Kyle the Apprentice Warlock

Chapter 31



11:30AM September 13th 2026

35,000ft Altitude between New York City and Washington DC

 

Poor Jim was nervous.  He was handling it well, but now more of the flight’s passengers were asking questions about why they were so long overdue.  Some of them were getting angry.  It was keeping the already stressed-out flight attendants, who didn’t seem to know what was going on themselves, very busy.

For her part, Camina was fairly certain she knew what was going on.  Not exactly, no.  She wasn’t clairvoyant.  But she could put her observations together and make some educated guesses.  Observation one, the ambient magic density had spiked significantly.  Observation two, the plane had turned around and flown away from New York.  Observation three; none of the passengers, and possibly none of the staff not in the cockpit had been informed of these changes.

Of course, Camina couldn’t be positive she was making the correct deduction, but she was fairly certain that there had been some kind of major magical incident in the vicinity of New York.  It hadn’t been cataclysmic.  At least, the levels of magic she sensed didn’t feel cataclysmic.  It was definitely bad though.  Very bad.

Part of her, the maternal part, wanted to scream at the flight attendants and demand some answers, much like the other passengers were doing.  Another part of Camina was patient.  It sat and waited, legs primly crossed, partly because it knew that staying in tight control over her emotions and biding her time would bring her answers faster than throwing her weight around. 

The other reason was that she was a prominent magic wielder, and her actions had very far-reaching consequences.

“Listen here, young Miss.”  An angry blonde with twang was shaking an admonishing finger as she harangued the flight attendant.  “We’ve been on this here flight for hours longer than it was ‘sposed to last.  I think we all deserve some answers.  Now aren’t we going to New York or ain’t we?”  She’d switched to gesturing around the cabin and trying to get support from her fellow passengers.

“Ma’am.”  The exasperated female flight attendant tried to reinstate order one more time.  “I’ve already told you.  We are being redirected to another airport.  But because of the magic arrow swarm intersection happening today we won’t know if we have a path to land anywhere for a few hours.”  Well, that sounded like a lie if Camina had ever heard one.  The magic arrow swarms weren’t set to intersect for another two or three hours.  And they were coming from nowhere near D.C.

“I’ve been watching he news on my tablet thingy that the grandkids got me for Christmas last year.”  An elderly gentleman chimed up from a few rows behind the obnoxious twanger.  “And the news is saying there’s been some kind of catastrophe with New York.”  He smacked his lips against his gums in irritation.  “Nobody can communicate with them except by message spell.  Was there some kind of blackout of something?  They lose their electricity?”

“Sir.  As I’ve said before…”  Before she could finish her thought, the man that Camina had bet Jim was the U. S. Marshal on the flight stood up and indicated the woman should stop talking.  He had been closely monitoring a low-magic communications scroll strapped to one wrist.  When he’d stood to deal with the unruly passenger he’d pulled his sleeve down over it.

“You owe me five bucks.”  Camina chuckled quietly to Jim who groaned as he pulled out his wallet to pay up.

“You’re lucky I even have five bucks.  Any other day and I’d have to use an app to send it to you electronically.”  Giggling with glee, Camina settled in to watch the unfolding diversion.

“United States Marshal, Ma’am.  The flight crew will keep you apprised of any information you need to know.  Could you please sit d – ” Before he could even fully intervene, the passenger address system came on.

“This is your captain speaking.”  The words crackled with the weird not-so-great echoey quality that all passenger address systems seemed to have no matter how luxurious the interior of the plane.  “Would the passenger in seat forty-four A please come to the flight deck.  I repeat the passenger in seat forty-four A please come to the flight deck.”

For a second, just a second, Camina glanced eagerly around to see who it was that would respond to the captain’s call.  Who else besides herself could possibly be important enough for the captain to call upon.  Then her shoulders slumped, and she glanced furtively at the seat number above her head…and sighed dejectedly.

“Forgot what your seat number was for a second there didn’t you?”  Jim quipped quietly beside her. 

“Oh, shut it Thafesh.”  It was a habit really, to call a comrade by their last name.  It made her just a little bit amused.  “Don’t let them toss my coffee while I’m gone.”  She whispered urgently and stood as nonchalantly as she possibly could.  Most of the other passengers were still looking for the row and seat the captain had called out, but their searching gazes zeroed in on Camina like homing missiles despite her attempts to look completely casual.

Sure, the tall, gorgeous brunet with her tropical tan and dark eyes could have just been getting up to use the restroom.  But did anyone really think the exotic, muscular beauty that looked like a supermodel had become a professional athlete, and walked like she was marching was just coincidentally getting up right after the pilot called someone to the cockpit.  Naw.  From his own seat, Jim snorted in amusement.  It was funny. 

Murmurs started up around the cabin.  People turned around in their seats to watch her approach and slowly walk past.  There were whispers talking about how familiar she looked.  Damn right she should look familiar.  One person who made the comment was literally holding a magazine with her picture on the cover and Jim had to stick a finger in his mouth and bite it not to laugh out loud.  He had no idea how she was keeping her composure and not rolling on the floor in hysterical laughter.  Like, he could just see that the effort of not rolling her eyes at that one, was giving her eye strain.

Finally, she reached the flight deck door and pushed the button for admittance.  There was a brief quiet exchange over the intercom, and she disappeared into the interior.  The quiet murmurs became an almost instant buzz of gossip.

“Oh, my good Lord.”  Someone exclaimed.  “Was that Camina Wattkins?  The Harbinger is on our flight?  How much trouble are we in?”

 

 

Okay.  So it might have been a little tacky of me, but I laughed when I wrote that last line.  


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