Return to Sender

Elara stepped out from behind Julian. She walked directly into the stream of dark energy.

It hit her, threatening to tear her apart. But she didn't resist. She opened herself to it. She grabbed Julian’s shoulder with one hand, anchoring him.

"Vane!" she screamed, her voice distorted by power. Her eyes were glowing a violent, chaotic purple.

Vane stopped laughing. "What are you doing? Die already!"

"You tried to cheat the balance!" Elara shouted. The wind whipped her hair around her face. "You cannot force a debt onto an innocent soul! The Ledger rejects it!"

She raised her free hand, pointing her rowan wand directly at the Arch-Minister.

"I am the Scales!" she cried. "And I find you... *Wanting*!"

She didn't cast a spell. She simply created a mirror. She took the massive torrent of rot flowing into them, spun it around using the chaotic centrifugal force of her witch blood, and fired it back up the stream.

**"RETURN TO SENDER!"**

The beam turned. It was agonizing. Elara felt her veins scorching, but she held on. The black sludge reversed course, shooting up the Siphon, defying gravity, and slamming directly into the control deck.

Vane shrieked.

There was no explosion. Just a sickening *crunch* as the karmic debt of an entire city hit the man who had created it.

Vane didn't rot slowly. He turned to ash in a second. Then the console exploded. Then the catwalk.

The Siphon, unable to handle the feedback loop, began to crack. Gold coins—millions of them—began to rain down from the ceiling as the "good karma" hoarding was shattered.

"Julian, run!" Elara grabbed her husband.

He was weak, his skin still grey, but he was alive. He stumbled to his feet.

They sprinted for the door. Elara blasted the locking mechanism with a bolt of pure force. They tumbled into the corridor just as the Core Room behind them collapsed in a shower of gold and dust.