As the kitchen table has the map, we squeeze around the breakfast snug. It is a tight fit, six of us crammed in—especially with Riker and his muscles taking up the space of two people—but we manage. The bench creaks. Snack Thief hops from backrest to backrest, hoping for dropped crumbs.
Riker snatches two sandwiches at once. “Thanks, Harper. I’m starving.”
“You are welcome. I can make more if needed.”
Dayna snorts, though there is affection in it. “Don’t encourage him. He gets worse if you feed him.”
“I don’t get worse,” Riker protests, mouth full of beef. “I get charming.”
“That’s one word for it,” Dayna says dryly. “You’re too grumpy to be charming.”
Jill grins. George chokes on his tea.
“I’m not grumpy. I’m brooding. There’s a difference.”
“Brooding?” Jill arches an eyebrow. “You sulked for an hour yesterday because someone ate your biscuits.”
“They were the good biscuits. Triple chocolate chip. Some of us have priorities,” Riker says, holding up his sandwich like a trophy. “And mine is this absolute masterpiece of roast beef and horseradish.”
After we finish eating, Lander clears his throat. The easy chatter stills.
“Right. We’ve got to move quickly while surprise is on our side. Whatever Meredith is planning, she won’t wait around.”
The easy camaraderie evaporates; everyone straightens, attention sharpening.
I stand and lead them back to the model.
“Harper received a message from Knox this morning,” Lander says. “Within the last twelve hours, Meredith, her coven, and several guards have taken the island and are holding the paper mages and their people hostage. She’s broken the treaty.”
Silence settles. Riker mutters a curse.
The treaty’s breach does more than spark an international incident; it risks sector-wide war. No one wants their secrets exposed, and the law was sacrosanct—until Meredith shattered it.
“We’ve confirmed nothing through official channels,” Dayna adds, leaning in. “Meredith knows how to conceal her arrival, which is why we’ve heard nothing from our usual sources. No one else knows. She must have cast some serious spells, which means she’s either masking and blocking the whole location… or she’s targeting specific buildings and people.”
“She has more than spells,” I say. “She has glass magic that suppresses paper magic. Knox is powerful, but hishands are tied without his power. Meredith has guards, coven members, possibly even sympathetic councillors.” Lander and Dayna murmur dissent, but I ignore them. “We do not have days; we have hours to fix this mess.”
“We need an extraction plan—and contingencies if things go south,” Lander says. “We’ve limited access to sanctioned kit, so we’re relying on personal stores, not Ministry stock. Harper’s right, Meredith has sympathisers on the Council. We can’t tip her off, so the op must be clean, quick, and with minimal casualties.”
“A surprise assault, then,” George replies.
“I can get us more gear,” Riker offers.
Dayna shakes her head. “Having you on the team already bends the rules; using shifter kit would push it too far.”
We go over each plan carefully, agreeing on some and ruling out others. Everyone has an opinion, and every suggestion is sound. Moments like this prove why Lander chose them.
“The island is roughly one and a half miles long and three-quarters of a mile wide,” I say. “About four hundred acres.”
Riker points at a flat stretch near the eastern rise. “If we skip the causeway and land here by boat, we can bypass the obvious security.”
I push magic into the area; the section detaches from the model, enlarges, and spins in mid-air, hovering like a paper hologram.
“There is a security office and a ward there,” I warn. “If you can handle it…” I glance at George.
“I can,” he says.
“If we can get close enough to disable the paperweights,” I continue, “the paper mages will regain full magical access.”
