The phone rang three times before it was picked up. A woman’s voice answered.

“Patrick?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

It wasn’t often that he called Lara.

“What do you know about…visions?” he asked, breathlessly. He’d felt like he was racing the clock all day, always ten minutes behind. Was he on a deadline? He didn’t know, but he didn’t want to miss it if that were the case.

“Plenty. What’s the context?” she asked, then added. “Also, hi.”

“Hi, sorry. Yes, context. My friend had a dream. She’s not magical, by the way. This tree I like was on fire. It’s an oak, of course. Then I had a dream of a man on fire. And when I touched him, it burned my hands in the real world. Which my friend also saw in her dream. Um…then I meditated, and there’s something linking me to this guy, but it’s not normal magic. And I feel like I know him, but I don’t I think do. And then I saw the tree on fire in real life. Well, the fire wasn’t real, but I wasn’t dreaming.” Patrick realized he’d barely taken a breath. “That’s the context. Sorry, I’m a little stressed.”

“I could tell. I can practically feel it through the phone,” she paused. “I can’t tell you what kind of magic is connected you to this man without being there myself. There are a handful of bindings that could do that, help you sense another person like that, but generally, the binding spell must be performed with mutual consent. Otherwise, there’s blood involved. Which, I’m assuming you’d remember.”

“And I definitely don’t.”

“Do you think this man is in danger?” Lara asked.

“No question about it. I’m afraid the frequency of the visions means I’m going to be late and lose him.”

“Him?” Lara’s voice softened. “Patrick, this isn’t about James.”

She said it as a statement.

“I know it’s not. It’s about this guy.”

“Someone in danger you’re afraid you’ll be too late to save…it’s not James, but the situation isn’t dissimilar,” Lara had a habit of reading him like a book. She didn’t have a psychic bone in her body but didn’t really need one. She’d been one of James’s best friends but had gladly welcomed Patrick into her life when James had discovered him. A little stray. No magical friends or family, completely oblivious to the magical side of the world. It was rare to go that long unnoticed. James had been Patrick’s main teacher, but Lara had shown him other things. Folk magic, charms, simple remedies to little frustrations. Her own power was immense, but she had a love for old magics that even normal people could perform. Part of why he’d called her was her extensive knowledge of binding spells, curses, and omens. The other part was that she was a good friend.

And she was right.

“I know it’s not dissimilar, ok? It doesn’t change the fact that this man is reaching out to me somehow,” he said, trying not to be too defensive.

“Just keep your head clear. You’ll be more help that way. If there’s someone trying to hurt this guy, you don’t exactly have the best offensive magic,” Lara paused. “Do you want me to come? I can get a flight from Denver tomorrow morning, first thing.”

“No, I can handle it. I have a feeling I have to do it. That’s why I had the vision.” He said. He could practically hear Lara thinking over what he’d said.

“You may be right. The visions are clearly very targeted to you. An oak on fire? When Patrick Oak has to save a fire mage? Too specific. Maybe he just needs help gaining control of his power. You’ll definitely get burned palms then,” Lara chuckled.

“What should I do now?” Patrick asked.

“Wait. Meditate on the connection attaching you. Whatever magic has bound you is going to let you know when it’s time,” Lara paused. “But I know you’re going to be impatient. You can try scrying. I don’t think it’ll work, but if you’re feeling antsy.”

“Definitely antsy,” Patrick took a deep breath. “I’m sorry this was the first you’ve heard from me in a month.”

“Two months. And, it’s okay. We can talk later. Deal with this. Let me know what happens and if you need anything,” Lara said. “And don’t be afraid to call Ruben if shit hits the fan. He’s in Charleston, so not terribly far. And he can move very fast when he needs to.”

“Good point and I will let you know how it goes. Bye, Lara. Love you.”

“Love you, bud. Good luck.”

The line went dead.

Lara was right about the scrying. The only hit he got was…his own apartment. Even while focusing on the thread attaching him to the man, to the point he could taste the fire magic in his mouth, he couldn’t get a hit with the scrying. So he settled in to meditate and think.

As usual, the meditation brought him back.

It was a cold day. Morning? Yes, early morning. He had awoken alone in bed. Maybe James was getting the coffee started? That was his role as the early bird in the relationship. But no, he wasn’t in the kitchen. Their magic was so entwined at this point that they were always aware of each other. He wasn’t in the apartment. He was on the other side of town.

That was weird. All that was over there were abandoned warehouses that the local kids messed around in (before inevitably getting caught and in trouble with their parents).

Wait, he was distressed. And there were others with him. Patrick could feel their dingey magic as stale grease in his mind. He’d felt magic like that before.

Hunters.

They sought powerful magicians and stole their magic. A process few survived as the magic was so entwined with bodies and vital organs. It could be removed safely by going slowly and gently, but that wasn’t the style of the Hunters. They ripped it out quickly and brought it back to their mysterious masters, The Five. The real miracle of Patrick’s life is that before he learned to disguise his magic, the Hunters never found him. He wasn’t particularly powerful, but his magic was rare.

And now they circled James.

Patrick was out of the house, running across town. He willed himself to go faster, whispering every charm he knew. He was two-thirds of the way there when a giant psychic scream welled up, so powerful Patrick could see it vibrating through the air before he felt it. James had let out his full power. Two of the Hunters were incapacitated, Patrick could sense. But, no, the other was still moving forward.

The psychic scream was intense, and Patrick was losing focus. His charms lapsed, and he fell to his knees on the sidewalk. They were less than a mile away, but the pain was so great his vision was splitting. He could barely hold off James’s power when prepared, the best he could do now was numb the pain a little.

Within a second, waves of warmth rolled over his being. James appeared in his mind.

“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t realize you were so close,” he said quietly, his voice practically a whisper in Patrick’s mind.

“James! I’m trying to reach you!”

“No. This last Hunter is powerful. It’s taking all my strength to hold him off and talk to you. I already used too much power…I don’t know if I can beat him.”

“Then let me help!”

“No! They can’t know about your magic. And there’s no reason to sacrifice yourself…” James’s image was fading.

“James? James!” Patrick yelled. The illusion was shattering. He’d never seen that before. It usually ended suddenly or faded gracefully.

Then, for just a moment, it came back in full force. The image of the forest clearing reappeared. James was in front of him. He smiled and reached out. Patrick could feel his hand in his own.

“I love you,” James said. He placed his right hand on Patrick’s chest. His brow creased, but then he smiled. “Goodbye”

“I-,” Patrick started, but then the entire vision dissolved. He was on the sidewalk in his pajamas. It was cold. His mind felt…alone.

The tears were already coming. He willed himself to rise and run. He ran without charms and spells. He reached the warehouse and walked carefully around the back. He saw the three hunters walking away. Two of them walked quite slowly.

James was on the ground. Patrick ran to his side, fuck if the Hunters noticed him.

One turned and looked. Patrick could tell he was sensing the air, looking for a hint of magic. Patrick had tamped it as far as he could.

“Normal human,” he said to the other two. “Sorry about your boyfriend!”

All three turned and laughed. Patrick barely noticed. James was still breathing.

“Hey, hey. I’m here.” He said. James's eyes were half-opened. He smiled weakly. “Why can’t I feel you?” Patrick asked.

James slowly shook his head. His eyes closed.

“Don’t close your eyes. Stay awake! Please.”

The rest of the memory was blurred by tears and pain.

Patrick snapped out of his meditation. The pain ached, but it wasn’t so fresh. It was a dull ache now. But something had caught his attention. When James had touched his chest, had he felt this binding magic? Had Patrick had it even then?

Before he could think more about that, he felt it. The tug in his chest and fire crawling up his arms from where his hands had been burnt. And in the distance, not too far away, was the man, burning bright. It was Patrick’s job to save him.