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“That’s me,” Phi confirms.
“Then you’re Adelaide’s familiar.”
“She’s what?” Josie’s heartbeat goes from freaked out to high alert. “How is she still here?”
“I’m barely here. Not since that old wench got herself skewered by your mates.”
“Aren’t familiars supposed to die when their witch dies?” I ask.
Josephine tilts her head from side to side as if considering. “A witch’s familiar is tethered to this plane because of the soul-swap business I mentioned earlier. Once the witch’s soul is no longer on this plane it’s back to hell with the demon.”
Elara is still staring at Phi like she’s seeing a ghost—it’s what Fintan and Sebastian’s faces looked like when Josie raised the dead to sicc on Egan and Adelaide. Mine too, probably.
“Adelaide told me you were killed during the war.” Elara waves her hands over the bird in the bubble, and the rush of magic raises the hair on my arms.
“No. I was frozen in stone for the last two and a half fucking decades!” I say on Phi’s behalf.
Josephine narrows her gaze on me. “Why do I feel like that wasn’t an exact translation?”
“I’m wounded.” I feign offense. “While I hoped my bonding power-boost would be something cool, I assure you I take my role as bird translator very seriously.”
Elara lowers her hand, cutting off her magical efforts. “The residual witch signature is faint, but she does feel like Adelaide.”
“I mean really, if you doubt me, you might be able to find an app that can translate for you.”
Josie rests a hand on my arm and gives it a gentle squeeze. “You did great. You’re a natural.”
And just like that, my stance on my new ability changes. If Josie’s happy with it, that’s good enough for me.
It’s not like I needed a power boost, anyway.
I’m already more powerful than my opponents. If I widened that gap, it wouldn’t be a fair fight. Not to mention it would take all the fun out of it.
“So, you see why I need a witch,” the bird says.
When I translate Phi’s comment, Josie shakes her head. “I’m not looking for a familiar right now. And if I was, it most definitely wouldn’t be the old familiar of the witch who killed my parents.”
The bird ruffles its feathers before smoothing down and trying again. “We’re on the same team here, kid. I’m grateful you fried the bitch—or however you ganked her. It felt like I was being broiled from the inside out by the sun.”
“Kid? Really?” Josie frowns at me offended.
I shrug. “Hey, you can direct any and all complaints to the bird. I’m just the messenger.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m almost thirty.”
“And I’m almost forty thousand,” Phi says, though I don’t bother translating. “Well, thirty-nine thousand and sixteen, but I’m rounding up. Once you hit that ten thousandth year mark, you really only start counting by the thousands.”
“Noted.” I haven’t hit that milestone yet, but I’m sure I’ll still be celebrating each year for the rest of my existence.
Who doesn’t love a good excuse for a party?
“What did she say?” Elara asks, looking to Tavor instead of me to translate, though I answer regardless.
“She’s, like, real fucking old.”
Phi beats her wings against the bubble. “Don’t get lazy on me now, messenger boy.”
“Hey, you’re lucky I’m passing along your messages at all, bird.”
