Harold perched on the skeletal remains of the old water tower, wings folded tight against the winter wind. From this height the merged city looked like a circuit board dipped in gothic fever: neon runes crawling across marble facades, maglev lines threading through stone arches that hadn't existed a week ago. Below him, Garrett Automotive's Factory 3 burned with Agnetha's sickly green light, every window a watchful eye.
He shouldn't be here.
The summons had come at moonrise: a brand of fire across his scaled chest that still smoked through the leather harness Reed had built to hide it. Agnetha's voice had slithered into his mind like heated wire.
1. Bring me the boy's plans.
2. Bring me the ice-witch's weakness.
3. Or I finish what the failed ritual started and tear the humanity fro
