Princess Millicent and the Black Egg

The Metropolitan Museum of Art buzzed with the controlled chaos that only a private school field trip could generate. Twenty students from Cavendish Heights' eighth-grade history class meandered through the Catherine the Great exhibition, their navy blazers and khaki uniforms a sharp contrast to the opulent gold and crimson of the Russian Imperial displays.

Millicent Nightbane walked among them, her presence both commanding and comforting. At twenty, she cut a striking figure - tall with an hourglass figure that even the most modest clothing couldn't fully conceal. Her iridescent black hair and piercing violet eyes marked her as something more than ordinary, though none of the students could quite say why." Most knew her only as Lucinda's older sister who sometimes helped at school events, the beautiful college student who made even the most rambunctious boys behave with just a raised eyebrow.

None of them knew she was actually the rightful Empress of an interdimensional empire, currently in exile on Earth. None of them knew that she could reshape reality with a thought or bend minds with a whisper. To them, she was simply Ms. Millicent, the nice chaperone who made history fascinating.

"If you'll look at this portrait," Millicent said, drawing attention to a massive painting of Catherine in her coronation robes, "you'll notice she chose to wear military regalia rather than traditional feminine garments. This wasn't vanity - it was strategy. In a world dominated by men, she needed to project power while maintaining grace."

The official museum guide, a dour woman named Ms. Pendleton, cleared her throat. "Actually, the audio tour suggests-"

"That Catherine was simply following tradition," Millicent finished smoothly. "But her personal letters tell a different story." She smiled, remembering how quickly she'd devoured every book about Catherine after arriving on Earth. Learning about this world's history had become something of an obsession - perhaps because it helped her understand her own past better.

Her sister Lucinda stood apart from the group, looking thoroughly bored. Unlike Millicent, who had embraced their exile on Earth as a chance for a fresh start, thirteen-year-old Lucinda viewed their new home as a primitive backwater. The young princess wore her required school uniform like it personally offended her, and her expression suggested she'd rather be anywhere else.

"This is tedious," Lucinda announced to no one in particular. "When they said field trip, I had hoped for something more... entertaining. The peasants here don't even have proper execution devices in their museums."

"Lucinda," Millicent warned gently. She'd learned that the best way to manage her sister's darker impulses was to redirect them. "Why don't you tell everyone about the significance of imperial regalia? You certainly know enough about it."

The tour continued through galleries showcasing Catherine's diplomatic triumphs and military campaigns. Millicent found herself increasingly fascinated by how this Earth queen had built her empire through wit and will, so different from her own parents' reign of magical terror. They passed displays of golden snuff boxes, elaborate court costumes, and diplomatic gifts from around the world.

Then they entered the "Cabinet of Curiosities" section, and Millicent's world shifted.

The room housed Catherine's collection of oddities - items that defied explanation even in their own time. A rhinoceros horn mounted in silver that supposedly detected poison. A fragment of skull claimed to be from John the Baptist. Catherine's favorite hunting hounds, preserved through taxidermy in eternal pursuit of phantom prey. But it was the item in the center that stopped Millicent cold.

The Black Egg of the Rus.

It sat on an ornate metal stand, its surface like polished obsidian shot through with veins of emerald. But Millicent knew it wasn't marble or any earthly stone. She recognized the stand's design - the same sinuous patterns had adorned Hotspur's drake-rider armor. The memory of him still ached, her brave knight who had died defending her family's throne even as she helped orchestrate its fall.

"This mysterious egg," Ms. Pendleton was saying, "was reportedly given to Catherine by a foreign diplomat who then vanished from historical record. Some scholars believe it to be carved from a single piece of black marble, while others insist it's an early example of Russian decorative arts in metal."

Millicent barely heard her. Under the pretense of admiring the display case, she placed her hand against the glass and whispered words in the Old Tongue, the language of magic that predated both Earth and Empire. The psychometry spell revealed flashes of the past - Imperial Lord Olivehill, young and dashing in his diplomatic robes, presenting the egg to an equally young Catherine. Their secret love affair bloomed across seasons, hidden from both Earth's nobility and Empire's spies. His reluctant departure when the Empire deemed Earth too primitive, too magically barren to be worth conquering.

But it was the present that made her blood run cold. Inside the egg, something moved. The drake embryo, dormant for centuries, was finally stirring. The increased ambient magic caused by her and Lucinda's presence in New York had awakened it. In five days, it would hatch - right in the middle of the museum's most popular exhibition in years.

Millicent drew back from the case, mind racing. She couldn't use magic directly on the egg - drake eggs were notoriously sensitive to magical interference, which was why they were normally kept in specially shielded nests. Any attempt to teleport or transform it might kill the infant drake inside. But she couldn't let it hatch here either. Earth wasn't ready to discover dragons were real, and she couldn't bear the thought of the poor creature being carved up by scientists trying to understand it.

She would have to steal it. But how? She had never attempted anything like this without magic. As she watched her sister transform a fly buzzing around her head into a tiny crystal butterfly out of sheer boredom, she knew she couldn't involve Lucinda. Her sister's solution would undoubtedly involve turning half the museum staff into various amphibians.

No, she would have to handle this herself. Somehow.

*****
The student kitchen at the Culinary Institute buzzed with activity, but Millicent barely noticed. Her hands moved automatically through the motions of preparing the day's lunch service - chopping vegetables with imperial precision, adjusting seasonings with practiced grace. Her mind, however, was centuries and dimensions away.

Hotspur astride his drake Nightflame, night metal armor gleaming against the beast's obsidian scales. The way he'd bow, always formal yet somehow playful. His face when she'd confess her doubts about the Empire, how he'd listen without judgment. The last time she saw him, not knowing her mother would...

"Earth to Millicent!" Casey waved a hand in front of her face. "That poor onion's about to file charges for excessive force."

Millicent blinked, realizing she'd been dicing the same onion for several minutes. Casey, her fellow student and closest friend outside of Adam and Lucinda's circle, leaned against the prep station. She wore her chef's whites with the same confidence she wore everything, dark skin glowing under the kitchen lights, hair kept neat under a colorful bandana.

"Sorry," Millicent said, setting down her knife. "I was... thinking."

"Clearly." Casey crossed her arms. "You never space out like this. What's got the perfect Ms. Nightbane actually showing human emotions?"

"I've been thinking about my past." Millicent surprised herself by admitting it. "Someone I used to know."

"Ooh, an ex?" Casey's eyes lit up. "Is he cuter than Adam?"

"They're... actually quite similar." Millicent smiled despite herself. Both so brave, so eager to prove themselves. Both with that same earnest desire to do right, even if Hotspur's version of right had been shaped by Empire propaganda.

"Girl, you have a type!" Casey laughed. "Tall, handsome, and probably way too noble for their own good?"

"I do not!" Millicent felt her cheeks warm. "They're completely different people."

"Uh-huh." Casey clearly didn't believe her. "So what brought this on? You never talk about your life before New York."

"I was at the museum yesterday, with Lucinda's class." Millicent started prepping the meatloaf for lunch service. "It got me thinking about Russian history. How their royal family..."

"Got overthrown?" Casey nodded. "Yeah, whole family wiped out by revolutionaries. Except maybe Anastasia, if you believe the movies."

The words hit Millicent harder than expected. She'd read about the Romanovs, of course, but hearing Casey say it so casually made the parallels impossible to ignore. Another royal family destroyed by rebellion. Only this time, she'd helped make it happen.

"Hey." Casey's voice softened. "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm fine." Millicent forced a smile. "Just getting lost in history. You know how I am with my studies."

"Well, stop thinking about dead princesses and help me with these burgers. Unless you want Chef Marcus to give us both detention."

Millicent laughed, grateful for the distraction. "Can he even give detention?"

"Let's not find out."

As they worked, Millicent let herself remember Hotspur one last time. His courage, his loyalty, his love for her - all ultimately betrayed by her choice to help overthrow her parents. She wondered if he would have understood, if she'd told him the truth. But that was another life, another Millicent. She had a new life now, with new love, new purpose.

And right now, that life included figuring out how to steal a dragon egg without magic. Somehow, that seemed easier than confronting her past.

*****

The Wonders' practice rink echoed with the sound of skates cutting ice and sticks slapping pucks. Adam Shirley moved like he was born on skates, weaving through defenders during the team scrimmage. His side was up by two, and with thirty seconds left, he saw his opening for another goal.

Then Millicent walked in.

She settled into the bleachers with her usual grace, still wearing her chef's whites from work, and suddenly Adam forgot everything he knew about hockey. The defenseman he hadn't noticed slammed into him, sending him sprawling across the ice.

"Shirley!" Coach Bennett's voice boomed across the rink. "Stop making eyes at your girlfriend and keep your head in the game!"

"Yeah, Romeo!" Mike from defense called out. "Save the romance for after practice!"

"You're just jealous," Adam shot back, getting to his feet. He could hear Millicent's laugh from the stands - that musical sound that somehow carried over all the noise of practice.

Coach Bennett blew his whistle. "Ten seconds! Make 'em count!"

Adam got into position, trying to focus. Mike had the puck, would pass to Jimmy, who always went left... there. Adam intercepted, spun past the defense, and sent the puck sailing into the net just as the buzzer sounded.

"Now that's what I'm talking about!" Coach Bennett clapped. "Hit the showers, everyone. Good practice."

"Sure got better once his princess showed up," Jimmy laughed, skating past. "Nothing motivates like- whoa!"

Every player except Adam suddenly lost their footing, sprawling across the ice in a tangle of limbs and hockey gear. From the stands, Millicent covered her mouth to hide her smile, but Adam caught the slight movement of her finger. He'd learned to spot the little signs of her magic, even if he still couldn't quite believe it was real sometimes.

After changing, Adam found Millicent waiting outside the locker room. Up close, he could see the worry lines around her eyes that she was trying to hide.

"That was quite a show out there," she said, kissing his cheek. "Though perhaps you should pay more attention to the game than your audience."

"Can't help it when my audience is you." He took her hand as they walked toward the parking lot. "What's wrong?"

"What makes you think anything's wrong?"

"Because you never come to afternoon practice unless something's on your mind. Plus, you made the whole team face-plant, and you only use magic when you're stressed."

Millicent sighed. "It's complicated."

"More complicated than dating an exiled interdimensional princess?" Adam squeezed her hand. "Try me."

*****

"Okay, out with it," Adam said as they left the rink. "What did Lucinda do this time?"

"Surprisingly, nothing too outrageous lately." Millicent smiled. "She's been almost well-behaved."

"Not Lucinda?" Adam counted on his fingers. "Did your fortune vanish? Are you suddenly poor?"

"Our investments are up twenty percent this month, actually." Millicent shrugged. "Not that money matters much to me."

"Can't be school - you're too smart for that." He studied her face. "Wait, did you find a baby bird out of its nest? Or a stray kitten? Those things always get to you."

"They do not!"

"Like that time I had to talk you out of vaporizing that guy for pulling his dog's leash too hard?"

"I would never-"

"Your zappy finger was glowing and everything." Adam wiggled his fingers in imitation.

Millicent laughed despite herself, the tension she'd been carrying all day easing slightly. They walked toward Adam's apartment near the school, the evening air crisp with early autumn.

"It's about an egg," she finally said.

"An egg?"

She told him about the museum, about Lord Olivehill and Catherine, about the Empire's dismissal of Earth as too primitive to bother conquering.

"So Earth was too lame for your folks?" Adam grinned. "Can't say I blame them."

"It has its charms," Millicent protested. "You have pie here. Do you know how rare pie is in the multiverse?"

"Forget pie - there's a dragon egg about to hatch in the Met!" His eyes lit up. "What are you going to do?"

"I have to steal it."

Adam stopped walking, his face breaking into a huge grin. "A heist? A real heist? This is perfect! It'll be just like Ocean's Eleven, or The Italian Job, or-"

"Adam..."

"No, listen - we need a crew. Every heist movie needs a crew. And we need cool codenames, and maybe some of those earpiece things-"

Millicent listened to him ramble excitedly as they entered his apartment building, unable to hide her smile. Perhaps she shouldn't have told him, but somehow his enthusiasm made the whole impossible task seem... well, possible.

*****

"Okay, out with it," Adam said as they left the rink. "What did Lucinda do this time?"

"Surprisingly, nothing too outrageous lately." Millicent smiled. "She's been almost well-behaved."

"Not Lucinda?" Adam counted on his fingers. "Did your fortune vanish? Are you suddenly poor?"

"Our investments are up twenty percent this month, actually." Millicent shrugged. "Not that money matters much to me."

"Can't be school - you're too smart for that." He studied her face. "Wait, did you find a baby bird out of its nest? Or a stray kitten? Those things always get to you."

"They do not!"

"Like that time I had to talk you out of vaporizing that guy for pulling his dog's leash too hard?"

"I would never-"

"Your zappy finger was glowing and everything." Adam wiggled his fingers in imitation.

Millicent laughed despite herself, the tension she'd been carrying all day easing slightly. They walked toward Adam's apartment near the school, the evening air crisp with early autumn.

"It's about an egg," she finally said.

"An egg?"

She told him about the museum, about Lord Olivehill and Catherine, about the Empire's dismissal of Earth as too primitive to bother conquering.

"So Earth was too lame for your folks?" Adam grinned. "Can't say I blame them."

"It has its charms," Millicent protested. "You have pie here. Do you know how rare pie is in the multiverse?"

"Forget pie - there's a dragon egg about to hatch in the Met!" His eyes lit up. "What are you going to do?"

"I have to steal it."

Adam stopped walking, his face breaking into a huge grin. "A heist? A real heist? This is perfect! It'll be just like Ocean's Eleven, or The Italian Job, or-"

"Adam..."

"No, listen - we need a crew. Every heist movie needs a crew. And we need cool codenames, and maybe some of those earpiece things-"

Millicent listened to him ramble excitedly as they entered his apartment building, unable to hide her smile. Perhaps she shouldn't have told him, but somehow his enthusiasm made the whole impossible task seem... well, possible.

In Adam's apartment, Zack sat at the kitchen counter, methodically working his way through a plate of raw chicken livers drenched in hot sauce. Being a zombie had its culinary quirks.

"Let me get this straight," he said between bites, "You - the good sister - want to steal from a museum? Aren't you supposed to be the responsible one, unlike your evil munchkin sister?"

Millicent raised an eyebrow. "You know, as Lucinda's bound servant, she can hear every thought you have about her if she wants."

Zack nearly choked on his liver. "Did I say evil munchkin? I meant perfect princess. Most gracious and merciful princess."

"This is perfect!" Adam paced excitedly. "Zack can be our guy in the chair, like in the movies!"

"Actually," Zack wiped hot sauce from his chin, "that kind of security system would need someone physically there to plug in. Just saying."

Millicent shook her head. "It's too dangerous for you both. I should handle this alone."

"No way!" Adam stopped pacing. "This is literally my dream come true!"

"I thought winning the Stanley Cup was your dream."

"I can have two dreams! Don't dream-shame me!"

They all laughed, and Millicent felt her resolve weakening. "Fine. But only if-"

"What's in it for me?" Zack interrupted. "I mean, saving a magical creature is great and all, but..."

"Well," Adam grinned, "Millicent could always turn you into a toaster."

"She wouldn't. She's the good princess."

Millicent smiled sweetly. "True. What would you like in lieu of becoming a kitchen appliance?"

"Uh..." Zack shifted nervously. "A thousand dollars?"

"Done." Millicent nodded. "Though I thought you'd ask for at least half a million."

"Wait, what? Can I change-"

"A deal is a deal between people," Millicent said. "Deals with toasters, however, are quite flexible."

Adam kissed her cheek. "You're so cute when you outmaneuver my roommate."

"Alright, fine," Zack grumbled. "a grand it is ."

"Operation Hard Boiled Egg is a go!" Adam declared.

Zack groaned. "That codename sucks."

"It does not!"

"It's... not the best," Millicent admitted.

"Oh yeah?" Adam crossed his arms. "You do better."

"Heist of Dragons."

"Okay, that is cooler," Zack said.

"Way cooler," Adam agreed, trying and failing to maintain his pout. "But I still like mine too."

Millicent watched them bicker about codenames, wondering if she was making a huge mistake. But seeing Adam's excitement, hearing Zack's grudging enthusiasm... maybe she didn't have to do everything alone anymore. Maybe that was the real difference between her and Lucinda - knowing when to let others help.

Even if their help involved terrible codenames.

*****

Millicent returned home to find Lucinda at the kitchen table, cigarette holder between her fingers, surrounded by stacks of books. Blue smoke curled around her head like a crown.

"You're late," Lucinda said without looking up. "You're never late, and I'm starving."

"I texted you an hour ago."

Lucinda checked her phone, frowned. "Oh. My apologies. I've been rather absorbed in learning Russian properly. Translation spells miss all the nuances when studying historical texts."

"And why," Millicent asked, hanging up her coat, "are you suddenly interested in Russian history?"

"It reminds me of our situation." Lucinda tapped ash into a crystal ashtray. "If I'm to rule this mudball of a world someday, I should know which countries need to pay for past insolence."

Millicent smiled, snapped her fingers. The kitchen came alive - pots floating to the stove, spices dancing through the air, lamb and rice measuring themselves out. "I heard a rumor Earth was deemed unfit for Empire rule."

"As it stands, yes. The grubs running things now have made quite a mess." Lucinda watched a knife perfectly dice onions. "But with proper control, it has... minor potential."

Millicent settled across from her sister, pulled out her own book and a pair of reading glasses.

"And what are you studying, dear sister?" Lucinda asked.

"Grand larceny."

Lucinda's wicked smile spread slowly. "The only kind of larceny worth committing."

"Indeed."

They read in comfortable silence as lamb curry and naan prepared themselves, each sister pretending not to notice the other's small smiles. Sometimes, Millicent thought, it was nice having a sister who appreciated the finer points of criminal enterprise - even if she didn't plan to tell her about this particular crime just yet.

*****

 

Walking to class the next morning, Millicent heard Casey calling her name.

"Girl, please tell me you took notes in Brazilian cooking yesterday?"

"Of course." Millicent smiled.

"I will give you my soul for those notes."

Millicent pulled perfectly written pages from her bag. "No soul required. Though, word of advice - never make that offer to Lucinda."

"How is that little ray of darkness?" Casey laughed.

"Learning Russian, actually. She's decided to study their history."

"Must be something, having a genius for a kid sister." Casey shook her head. "Meanwhile, my little brother wants to be an influencer and can barely spell the word."

"What's the password?" Zack appeared suddenly, speaking in an exaggerated whisper.

Casey stared at him. "Why are you being weird?"

"Being cautious," Zack said with dignity.

"Being overly so," Millicent corrected.

Casey took the notes. "Thanks, Millicent. I'll see you in class - away from whatever this is."

Once Casey left, Zack leaned in. "So she's not part of it?"

"Casey doesn't even know I'm a witch from another reality."

"I thought you two were close."

"We are." Millicent adjusted her bag. "But some people aren't ready for that level of paradigm shift."

"Better to know a thirteen-year-old might turn you into a pizza than not know, if you ask me." Zack shrugged.

"Speaking of knowing things - what was that password business about?"

"Oh, just having fun... Fancy Pants."

Millicent raised an eyebrow. "'Fancy Pants?'"

"Your code name! Adam is Slap Shot, and I'm Icebreaker."

"Let me guess who came up with those names."

"I rock like that." Zack grinned.

"Fine." Millicent sighed. "I'll text... Slap Shot and let him know I've developed a rudimentary plan for our ingress and egress from the museum."

"No problem... Fancy Pants."

Millicent wondered, not for the first time, if involving these two was her wisest decision

*****

Millicent walked down the halls of City College until she found a suitably deserted dead end. "This will do," she murmured, placing her hand against the wall. Reality rippled beneath her fingers as she wove the spell, creating not just a room but a history for it - maintenance records, electrical connections, internet cables that had always been there, if anyone bothered to check. She layered in wards that would make people's eyes slide past the door, their minds providing perfectly reasonable explanations for why they'd never noticed it before.

The door materialized - plain, unremarkable, exactly what you'd expect to find in a college hallway. She opened it to reveal a twenty-by-twenty room, brightly lit and professionally appointed. Maps of the MetropolitanMuseum covered one wall, focusing on the Catherine the Great exhibition. The central table held neat stacks of dossiers - guard rotations, staff schedules, maintenance logs.

"Something's missing," she mused, then gestured. A counter rose smoothly from the floor, complete with an espresso machine that would put most coffee shops to shame. A working sink formed beside it, water pipes extending into walls that hadn't existed minutes ago. "That's better."

She texted Adam and Zack the room's location, then settled into one of the chairs. From her bag, she withdrew a black cigarette and placed it in a long green holder - a habit she'd mostly given up since coming to Earth, but something about planning a heist called for it. As she lit up with a snap of her fingers, she couldn't help but smile.

"Well," she said to the empty room, smoke curling around her like a conspiratorial friend, "I suppose this makes me a criminal mastermind."

The thought should have bothered her more than it did.

*****

 

Adam and Zack found Millicent standing by a whiteboard, multiple markers floating in the air like attentive students. She took a drag from her cigarette holder, smoke wreathing her head like a crown.

"Who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?" Adam grinned.

"I decided to indulge a bit." Millicent exhaled a perfect smoke ring. "Criminal masterminds should look the part, shouldn't they?"

"I knew it." Zack nodded. "You're secretly evil."

"If I were evil, you'd be a toaster." She gestured to the chairs. "Shall we begin?"

The markers began writing as she spoke. "I've researched the museum thoroughly-"

"So did I," Zack interrupted. "That place is a vault."

"In the movies, they always use disguises and bombs," Adam offered helpfully.

"I've been reading this fascinating book by a French thief." Millicent tapped ash into a crystal ashtray. "He believed simpler was better. I considered several approaches." The markers sketched diagrams as she listed them. "Stopping time and walking in-"

"But?" Zack prompted.

"Maintaining a temporal pause longer than a few minutes risks creating a singularity that could destroy half the city."

"Let's not do that," Adam said quickly.

"Agreed. Then I thought about shrinking us all-"

"Like Ant-Man!" Adam and Zack said together.

Millicent blinked. "I have no idea what an Ant-Man is. But the dangers of being that small are considerable. I also considered astral projection and possession, but human auras are so fragile - it could be fatal to whoever I possessed."

"That's kind of like a magic disguise," Adam pointed out.

"True." She waved her hand, and bound booklets floated to each of them. "Which is why we're going with a basic infiltrate and grab. Your roles, contingencies, and backup scenarios are all color-coded and indexed."

Zack flipped through his copy. "Your girlfriend is way too good at crime."

"Yeah," Adam grinned. "It's kind of hot."

Millicent rolled her eyes. "Just read and learn, gentlemen. Just read and learn."

"After prep, we arrive in appropriate attire," Millicent began.

"You mean like invisible clothes?" Zack perked up. "You can do that, right?"

"I can, but we won't. Mass invisibility means not being able to see each other - that's a disaster waiting to happen. Just dark clothing."

"Stealth suits," Adam grinned. "Cool."

"Yes," Millicent sighed. "Stealth suits." The floating markers continued diagramming as she spoke. "Once inside - and I can't believe I'm about to say this - Icebreaker accesses the central security port for control of cameras and sensors. And this is crucial: leave a back door in the system."

"Just in case we need to scrub footage later." Zack nodded. "Smart."

"What's my job?" Adam bounced in his seat like an eager puppy.

"Lookout. Security teams patrol at set times, but they may deviate. You'll watch and contact us if needed. You may also need to provide... diversions."

"Contact how?"

"I can rig something-" Zack started.

"I'll link your minds," Millicent said. "It's how the Imperial military maintained efficiency - officers and enlisted connected via mind link."

"Cool!" Zack said.

Adam frowned. "Not sure I want Zack in my head."

Millicent laughed. "While you handle that, I'll retrieve the egg, replace it with a duplicate, and we'll head to the rear exit."

"Then teleport out?"

"No magic near the drake. We'll use the back door Zack unlocks."

"You know," Adam said, "in movies, plans never work smoothly."

"That's why I have forty-seven contingency plans." Millicent tapped her booklet.

"Your girlfriend's a crime nerd," Zack snickered.

With a casual point of her finger, Millicent transformed him into a toaster. "I heard that." She changed him back just as casually.

"Evil Millicent is hot," Adam declared.

"Don't make me turn you into a toaster too."

*****
"You seem back on your game," Casey said as Millicent expertly plated a soufflé.

"Now that I have some things figured out, I can focus properly."

"Thanks for those notes, by the way." Casey leaned against the prep station. "Though I did wonder about those heist plans sketched in the corners."

Millicent's hand barely trembled. "Just notes for a game."

"Don't worry, I'll keep quiet." Casey winked. After a pause, she added, "Can I ask you something? Are we good friends?"

"Of course."

"It's just... you only ever hang out with Adam, that weird Zack guy, and your sister. I'd love to spend more time together, you know?"

Millicent carefully seasoned a sauce. "I'm sorry. I have trouble stepping out of my comfort zone sometimes."

"It feels like you're hiding part of yourself." Casey's voice softened. "Like there's this wall."

"Where I'm from, people hid a lot."

"Well, if it helps..." Casey glanced around. "I'll tell you a secret."

"That's not necessary-"

"I stole a car when I was sixteen."

Millicent nearly dropped her whisk. "You? But you're so honest."

"I was young, stupid, and got dumped by my boyfriend. So I stole his car and raced home." Casey shrugged. "Dad's a trucker - taught me to shift gears with the best of them."

"You're a good driver?" Millicent's eyes lit up.

"One of the best."

"Can you meet me at Javanaut Coffee after our shift?"

"Sure, but why?"

Millicent smiled, thinking how every princess needed a lady-in-waiting - someone to talk to, share secrets with, do normal girl things with. Maybe it was time to let someone else into her world. Carefully, of course.

Very carefully.

*****

Millicent stood studying Javanaut's menu board, remembering her first Earth coffee purchase - the barista's face when she'd offered a gold bar in payment. She was still chuckling when Casey arrived.

"First time hanging with Millie Nightbane outside school," Casey grinned.

"Order whatever you'd like - my treat."

"Normally I'd say no, but since you're super rich..."

"I'm not super rich." Millicent pulled out her phone. "Just comfortable. Let me text Lucinda not to destroy another delivery person."

"I can totally see her doing that. That kid's scary confident for her age."

They settled into a booth with their drinks, Millicent turning her cup thoughtfully. Casey leaned forward. "What's on your mind?"

"One reason I've had trouble being myself around you is... I'm not exactly normal."

Casey laughed. "Duh. You're almost six feet tall, look like a movie star, smart as Einstein, and have this Mary Poppins everybody-loves-you thing going on. Nothing about you is normal, and that's cool."

"Thank you." Millicent smiled.

"Sometimes you come off as too perfect."

"I'm far from perfect."

"Name one thing you're bad at."

"I can't drive a car."

"We live in New York. Even people with cars can't drive here."

Millicent chuckled. "I suppose there's no way to do this but to show you." She snapped her fingers. The cafe froze - customers mid-sip, baristas mid-pour, steam hanging motionless above cups.

Casey's eyes went wide. "Holy shit."

"Not quite." Millicent took a calm sip of her coffee. "Casey... I'm a witch."

"Witches aren't real..."

"I just stopped time."

"I noticed, but..." Casey looked around again. "Okay, you're a witch. Like, broom flying?"

"Yes, I have a broom. I'm quite good at flying, actually." Millicent gestured, restoring time's flow around them.

"And you can stop time?" Casey watched a barista resume pouring coffee mid-stream.

"As demonstrated."

"Can you make it rain?"

Millicent snapped her fingers. Thunder rolled outside, followed by sudden downpour. Another gesture, and the rain ceased. "Yes, but I try not to interfere with nature. A storm here might cause a drought somewhere else."

Casey sat back, processing. Her whole life, like most humans, she'd been told there was no magic, that science explained everything. Yet here she was, sharing coffee with a witch.

"That's... not what I expected. I thought we'd talk about your boyfriend, music... maybe politics."

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's cool." Casey leaned forward. "Can you turn people into frogs?"

"I can, but I prefer not to."

"If I had magic, I'd have a list of people to turn into frogs." Casey laughed, then stopped suddenly. "Wait. Is Lucinda...?"

"Yes."

"That explains so much about that kid. Every puzzle piece just clicked into place."

Millicent laughed. "But you're okay with this? Because I have a few more secrets, and something to ask of you."

Casey took a long sip of coffee. "Still wrapping my head around it, but I think I'm good."

"Well," Millicent smiled, "I'm also not from this world. And on my home world, my parents ruled... well, that world and eleven others."

*****

"Hit me," Casey said after absorbing Millicent's explanation of her past, family, and exile. Millicent pointed at the empty cup, refilling it instantly.

"So you're a super-smart witch princess, your dad is Darth Vader, and your mom is Maleficent?"

"Those names I recognize." Millicent smiled. "Though Father was far more handsome than Lord Vader. But yes, you have the gist."

"You realize how humbling this is, right? Finding out your perfect friend is like... Super Alien Magic Princess?"

"Technically, as my parents have passed, I'm an Empress."

"Not helping." Casey took a long drink. "So what's this thing you need to ask me?"

"I need a wheel-person for a museum robbery."

"You're kidding."

Millicent explained about the drake egg, its history, and the urgency of their situation.

"I'm in," Casey said immediately.

"That was... easier than I expected."

"I don't want to be a frog."

"I'm not going to turn you into a frog."

"I know, but if you're going to be a criminal mastermind, the threat should be there."

"Adam says evil Millicent is hot."

"I get that." Casey grinned.

Millicent rolled her eyes and handed over one of her planning books. "Now that's settled, here's the plan."

"This is definitely the Millicent I know." Casey flipped through pages. "Like that time you wrote a small novel on ways to fix eggplants."

"Eggplants are underrated and deserved that."

Casey rolled her eyes and started reading. Millicent blew gently on her coffee, heating it to the perfect temperature, and took a satisfied sip. One more piece had fallen into place.

*****

"Hit me," Casey said after absorbing Millicent's explanation of her past, family, and exile. Millicent pointed at the empty cup, refilling it instantly.

"So you're a super-smart witch princess, your dad is Darth Vader, and your mom is Maleficent?"

"Those names I recognize." Millicent smiled. "Though Father was far more handsome than Lord Vader. But yes, you have the gist."

"You realize how humbling this is, right? Finding out your perfect friend is like... Super Alien Magic Princess?"

"Technically, as my parents have passed, I'm an Empress."

"Not helping." Casey took a long drink. "So what's this thing you need to ask me?"

"I need a wheel-person for a museum robbery."

"You're kidding."

Millicent explained about the drake egg, its history, and the urgency of their situation.

"I'm in," Casey said immediately.

"That was... easier than I expected."

"I don't want to be a frog."

"I'm not going to turn you into a frog."

"I know, but if you're going to be a criminal mastermind, the threat should be there."

"Adam says evil Millicent is hot."

"I get that." Casey grinned.

Millicent rolled her eyes and handed over one of her planning books. "Now that's settled, here's the plan."

"This is definitely the Millicent I know." Casey flipped through pages. "Like that time you wrote a small novel on ways to fix eggplants."

"Eggplants are underrated and deserved that."

Casey rolled her eyes and started reading. Millicent blew gently on her coffee, heating it to the perfect temperature, and took a satisfied sip. One more piece had fallen into place.

*****
"You're plotting something," Lucinda declared as Millicent reached their door.

"I'm not plotting anything."

Lucinda sniffed the air delicately. "Mediocre coffee, freshly rolled clove cigarettes, and wonderous machinations. You're definitely plotting."

"How was your day?" Millicent asked, stepping inside.

"I've decided to take destroy Russia as part of me taking over earth."

"Destroying such a large country might cause instability."

"Not the country - their farmlands are too valuable. Just the government." Lucinda's eyes gleamed. "It was built on rebellion and must go, along with other such governments."

"Including the one we live in?"

"Omelets and eggs, sister." Lucinda crossed her arms.

Millicent gestured, her coat floating to the rack, her book bag drifting toward her room. "I told Casey."

"Told Casey what?"

"About us."

A wicked smile spread across Lucinda's face. "About time. She's far more intelligent than Adam and Zack, and much more fun."

"You're okay with that?"

"Of course. I actually like Casey, especially when she's doing cakes at the restaurant."

Millicent laughed. "Speaking of food, I should start dinner. How about omelets while you tell me your plans for world domination?"

"Domination is such a harsh word." Lucinda followed her to the kitchen. "I prefer systematic curative upheaval."

"Of course you do," Millicent smiled, ingredients floating from the refrigerator. Despite everything, these moments with her sister - plotting world domination over breakfast food - made exile feel almost like home.

*****

"Could you add a room like this to my apartment?" Casey asked, stepping into the war room. "It's half the size of this place."

"I'll look into it," Millicent said from her seat at the meeting table.

Adam shifted uncomfortably. "Not sure how I feel about another person knowing the secret."

"Yeah, what if she's a spy?" Zack added.

"For who?" Millicent raised an eyebrow.

"The government, the Illuminati, the New World Order, the Lizard People in the Hollow Earth..."

"Is he for real?" Casey asked.

"Afraid so," Adam sighed.

"Look, Millicent's my friend. I'll take her secret to the grave." Casey paused. "Also, I'm kind of afraid of Lucinda."

"That part I get." Adam grinned. "Welcome to the team."

"Lucinda is a perfect princess-" Zack started, then shook his head. "Welcome aboard, I guess... Chocolate Thunder?"

"Slightly racist."

"Black Wheels?"

"Full racist now. It's like how in comics the Black superhero always has 'Black' in their name."

"How about just Wheels?" Adam suggested.

"Better."

Millicent smiled. "With Casey, we have our escape route, since teleporting with the egg is out."

"Plus an outside set of eyes," Casey added.

"So what kind of car?" Adam asked. "Something fast and sleek?"

"No, you want normal - nice sedan, black or gray. Nothing that stands out," Casey said. "But with serious juice under the hood."

"That's very specific," Zack noted.

"I can work with that," Millicent nodded.

"Should have fake plates too, just in case."

"Good catch," Casey said. "I know a guy - friend of my dad's. Shady but nice. Deals in cars of questionable ownership."

"A chop shop guy?" Adam asked.

"Maybe."

Zack laughed. "This is sounding more criminal by the second. Cool."

"I'll go with Casey to talk to the car guy," Millicent said. "We need things done quickly before the hatching."

"I still can't believe dragons are real." Casey's eyes lit up. "Can I have it?"

"I've been thinking about what to do after it hatches."

"What are baby drakes like?" Adam asked.

"Like fire-breathing kittens. Well, they don't breathe fire until year two. By then they're about fifty pounds."

"How big will it get?" Casey asked.

"Full maturity at twenty years. Live for centuries. Maximum size forty to fifty feet nose to tail, sixty to eighty-foot wingspan. Fire that can melt steel like butter at a quarter mile."

"How do you hide that?" Zack's eyes went wide.

"We'll cross that bridge in twenty years," Millicent said serenely.

*****

 

"Lou's a nice guy," Casey said as they pulled up to the New Jersey garage. "Still sends me twenty bucks on my birthday. But he can smell money, and if he knows you have it, he'll fleece you."

"I know the type," Millicent said serenely.

A tattooed bouncer answered their knock, raising the garage door. "I only wished for one new girlfriend."

"Shut up, Clint." Casey sighed. "Millicent, this is Clint, Lou's security."

Millicent held out her hand imperiously, clearly expecting it to be kissed. Clint shook it awkwardly instead. Casey watched, wondering what game her friend was playing.

The garage bustled with activity - cars being dismantled and reassembled with practiced efficiency. In the back office, they found Lou hunched over racing forms, short and stocky in an ill-fitting suit, wild gray hair framing his round face as he chomped on a cigar..

"Racy Casey, my girl!" He beamed. "Finally quitting college to drive for Uncle Lou?"

After Casey's hug, Lou's eyes settled on Millicent. "Who's the rich chick?"

Millicent looked down her aristocratic nose. "I'm Millicent, and you're going to help me."

"What can I do for a lady like you?"

"We need a car. Today," Casey said. "Boring outside, monster inside."

"Quick work costs-"

Millicent placed a black cigarette in her holder. "Light me."

Lou complied. Millicent exhaled and said softly, "There will be no cost."

Lou's eyes glazed. "There will be no cost."

"You and your men will get us the car, deliver it where Casey wants, then forget this meeting."

"Of course."

In the garage, the workers stopped as one, turning to Millicent. "Tell us what to do, mysterious lady. We will forget."

"You Jedi mind-tricked all of them?" Casey whispered.

"I hope that's okay. Just covering our tracks."

"No, that's cool. Lou would be impressed."

"I'll make it up to them - a nice ward to make the garage hard to notice by anyone not friend or employee."

"He'd really dig that."

Millicent addressed the entranced workers. "Lou knows what I want. Make it happen. Resume your duties, and in sixteen hours, you'll be yourselves, remembering nothing."

She took another drag, trying not to enjoy herself too much. But there was something satisfying about being properly imperial again, if only for a moment.

*****

"Don't tell anyone," Zack said, mashing buttons on his controller while Adam did push-ups nearby, "but doing a heist is almost worth being a zombie."

"Dude, you realize you're immortal, right?"

"Yeah, as long as I eat brains. Which, by the way, taste terrible."

"You should ask Millicent or Casey to help with that. They're chefs in training."

"Might do that." Zack paused his game. "Though Millicent might turn me into kitchen appliance for complaining."

Adam sat up, eyes bright with sudden inspiration. "Dude, you know what we should do? Case the place out."

"That's definitely not in your girlfriend's color-coded plan outline." Zack grinned. "I'm in."

"That way we'll get the lay of the place, not just what's on the maps."

"And if she gets mad-"

"You'll say it's my fault?"

"Exactly."

"I can take it." Adam flexed. "I'll just turn on the charm."

"You do that." Zack saved his game. "I'll just be standing, oh, half a mile away when you try to charm an angry witch princess."

*****

"Don't tell anyone," Zack said, mashing buttons on his controller while Adam did push-ups nearby, "but doing a heist is almost worth being a zombie."

"Dude, you realize you're immortal, right?"

"Yeah, as long as I eat brains. Which, by the way, taste terrible."

"You should ask Millicent or Casey to help with that. They're chefs in training."

"Might do that." Zack paused his game. "Though Millicent might turn me into kitchen appliance for complaining."

Adam sat up, eyes bright with sudden inspiration. "Dude, you know what we should do? Case the place out."

"That's definitely not in your girlfriend's color-coded plan outline." Zack grinned. "I'm in."

"That way we'll get the lay of the place, not just what's on the maps."

"And if she gets mad-"

"You'll say it's my fault?"

"Exactly."

"I can take it." Adam flexed. "I'll just turn on the charm."

"You do that." Zack saved his game. "I'll just be standing, oh, half a mile away when you try to charm an angry witch princess."

*****

Adam and Zack wandered into the museum wearing glasses they clearly thought made them look inconspicuous.

"Act normal," Zack muttered.

"I am normal."

They followed a tour group through the Catherine the Great exhibition. At a portrait of Catherine on her throne, Zack tilted his head. "She's cuter than I expected."

"Dude, focus."

After enduring fifteen minutes of historical commentary, Zack turned to the tour guide. "Where's the restroom?"

"Down the hall to the left."

"Got a computer hub to find," Zack whispered to Adam. "Try to look less bored."

Adam nodded vaguely as Zack slipped away, phone out to test signal strength. At a secure door with a card reader, Zack pulled up a specialized app, cycling through entry codes. The door clicked open.

"I hack therefore I am," he muttered, stepping inside. Then, for no reason he could understand: "Stop being an idiot."

He found the computer hub junction and was about to plug in when security rounded the corner. "ID please."

Zack ran. Footsteps pounded behind him, then suddenly stopped. "Useless," he blurted out, not knowing why. Looking back, the guards were gone.

He found Adam staring at the black egg. Grabbing his friend's arm, he steered them toward the exit.

"What happened?"

"Nothing. It's all good."

*****

"So you can just mind control people?" Casey asked in the war room. "That's cool."

"Only when necessary," Millicent said, adjusting her glasses.

"Could you teach me magic?"

"It doesn't work that way. You need a connection to magic - usually genetic."

"That sucks." Casey sighed. "But I get it."

Adam and Zack walked in, looking entirely too pleased with themselves.

Casey narrowed her eyes. "What did you do?"

"No idea what you mean," Zack said quickly.

"I have a little brother. That's exactly how he looks when he's done something stupid he thinks is smart."

Millicent looked between them. "Really? Did you two do something?"

"Nothing big," Adam said.

"Either tell me, or..."

"Adam made me go case out the museum!" Zack blurted.

"What? That's stupid!" Casey threw up her hands.

"We didn't get caught," Adam protested. "Now we know the place."

Millicent rubbed her temples. "There's a reason you don't 'case a place out.'"

"Because people might recognize you later even if you're dressed all ninja-ee?" Casey offered.

"Dude, you pushed me under the bus!" Adam glared at Zack.

"In my defense..." Zack pointed at Millicent. "Witch princess." Then at Casey. "Scary."

"He's growing on me like a fungus," Casey said.

"As long as no one saw you, it should be fine," Millicent sighed.

"Well..." Zack squirmed. "Security might have seen me. Or part of me..."

Millicent glared. "Now I understand why Lucinda likes to torment you."

"You're lucky I don't know magic," Casey said. "Poof - you'd be a lobster."

Millicent giggled. "Well, if they saw you and didn't give chase, we might be fine."

*****

"Very pedestrian," Millicent said, examining the grey minivan.

Casey leaned under the hood, whistling softly. "Engine's exactly what we need though."

"Let's hope Zack's earlier silliness doesn't cause issues."

"Should be fine." Casey grinned. "Though I was kind of hoping to see someone get turned into a frog."

"The evening is young."

Adam and Zack approached, looking ready for action. "Why aren't we practicing?" Zack asked.

"If we practice and encounter issues, second-guessing could harm us more than help," Millicent explained. "The plan is simple. If everyone does their job, everything should be fine."

"And Bob's your uncle," Casey added in an attempted British accent.

"We didn't say that in the Empire." Millicent smiled. "That's an Earth thing."

"What did you say?"

"'Sure as a grumpy Grat.'"

"What's a Grat?" Adam asked.

"Take a gorilla, shave it, make it scaly and green, give it Bronze Age technology."

Zack shuddered. "Glad Earth doesn't have those."

"You don't get to banter after almost getting caught," Millicent said.

"Sorry."

"I might accept that apology if everything works out.

*****

The minivan idled in the alley across from the museum. Millicent reviewed her notes one final time under the dim streetlight.

"Everyone ready?"

Three nods.

She touched her forehead, then pointed at each team member in turn, connecting their minds.

To me, my X-Men! Zack's thoughts echoed in everyone's head.

Nerd, Adam projected back.

"A mind link isn't a toy," Millicent said aloud, but her mental voice carried a hint of amusement.

Fine, Zack sulked.

Casey looked up from the driver's seat. Um, guys? Someone has to use the restroom.

*****
"That's me," Adam admitted.

"Oh, so that's what that feels like," Millicent mused.

"I can hold it-"

Millicent snapped her fingers. Adam blinked. "Wait, what did you do?"

"Made it disappear."

"That's equally gross and cool," Casey said.

"Agreed," Zack nodded.

Millicent gestured, transforming their clothes into form-fitting black outfits with utility belts, pouches, and masked hoodies.

"We look cool," Zack said, checking his tablet.

"Is he really as good with computers as he claims?" Casey asked.

"Zack has issues," Millicent said, "but technology isn't one of them."

"Thanks for the almost-compliment."

Millicent checked her phone. "Museum closes in fifteen minutes. We wait an hour after that."

"What do we do till then?" Adam asked.

"Should've brought my cards," Casey said.

"Not playing cards against a witch," Zack muttered.

"I would never cheat," Millicent sniffed. "That's beneath me."

"Yeah, Millicent isn't a cheater," Adam agreed.

Casey silently mouthed "frog" at Millicent.

Millicent mouthed back: "No."

****

Millicent, Adam, and Zack materialized in the museum lobby, their black outfits seeming to absorb what little light remained. Millicent pulled Adam close, kissing him softly.

Be safe, she projected into his mind.

You too, he thought back.

Zack made a gagging sound in their shared mental link as he headed toward the security hub. Focus, children, Casey's thoughts chided from outside.

Millicent moved with practiced grace through the darkened halls, her steps silent despite the marble floors. Growing up in the Dark Spire had taught her how to move undetected - a skill she'd never expected to need on Earth.

Reaching the security hub, Zack cracked his knuckles and pulled out his tablet. Just gotta bypass the- His mental voice cut off as he worked.

In the van across the street, Casey shifted uncomfortably. "This is weird," she muttered. "I can almost see what everyone's doing, like some kind of high-tech VR game."

Almost in, Zack projected. Putting security in diagnostic mode... now.

Good, Millicent thought, approaching the Catherine exhibit.

Everything's going fine! Adam's mental voice radiated satisfaction.

You never say that! Zack's panic leaked through their connection. That's like saying 'what could go wrong' in a horror movie!

He's right, Casey agreed. That's totally asking for trouble.

Focus, please, Millicent projected firmly, her mental voice carrying the same aristocratic authority as her spoken one.

Outside, Casey straightened in her seat as a sleek black helicopter drifted overhead, running dark. It hovered above the museum, almost silent. Four ropes dropped from its side, and dark figures descended with military precision.

Uh, guys? Casey's thoughts carried a mix of professional admiration and genuine concern. We've got a situation up here.

What kind of situation? Millicent's mental voice remained calm.

The cool kind that's probably bad news - think special forces meets ninja movie. Four of them just hit the roof..

A brilliant flash lit up the roof, and darkness cascaded across the neighborhood like a falling curtain. Every light within two blocks went dark.

Someone just EMPed the whole area, Zack's thoughts carried a hint of grudging respect. These guys are pros.

Okay, Adam projected sheepishly, I regret saying everything was fine.

I knew it! both Casey and Zack thought simultaneously.

Millicent paused in the shadows, considering their options. They had competition - professionals, by the sound of it. The egg was clearly more valuable than even she had suspected. But who else could possibly know about its true nature?

*****

 

Through her binoculars, Casey studied the figures on the roof. They're armed, she projected. Like, seriously armed.

Someone forgot to mention guns would be involved, Zack's thoughts carried a nervous edge.

This is too dangerous, Millicent projected. We should abort.

We can do this, Adam's mental voice was firm. I believe in your plan.

Hey, Zack thought, technically I'm already dead. Nothing these guys can do is scarier than what your sister's done to me.

I'm safely across the street, Casey added. Your call.

Fine. Millicent moved with fluid grace toward her goal, each step precise and silent. A security guard's flashlight beam cut through the darkness ahead. With a casual wave of her hand, the guard crumpled silently to the floor. The flashlight floated to her hand before it could clatter against the marble, and she clicked it off.

Security is down, she projected. Be careful.

Okay, Adam and Zack thought back simultaneously.

Reaching the display case, Millicent gestured elegantly. The glass vanished like morning mist. She reached for the massive egg - and nearly stumbled. Adam, she projected, I need you.

Why? His confusion carried clearly through their link.

Because magic or no, I have the upper body strength of a sous chef.

Adam moved quickly through the darkened halls, then froze. One of the armed figures in black tactical gear was sweeping through the exhibits with military precision. He pressed himself against a wall, heart pounding.

I'm blocked, he projected. One of the pros is between us.

Outside, Casey's voice carried urgency: "Zack, how long will the lights stay out?"

Based on the city grid? Half hour, tops.

"I'm going in." Casey slipped from the van, sprinting across the street. Pulling on her mask and hood, she reached the museum entrance and began pounding on the door. "Police! This is the police!"

The armed figure turned toward the sound. He's heading your way, Casey, Adam projected.

Casey ducked around the corner as the figure approached the door. "Politsiya mozhet byt' zdes'," the man muttered.

Uh, guys? Adam thought. Pretty sure that was Russian.

Russian? Zack's mental voice carried dawning realization. These guys must be hardcore- His thought cut off abruptly as cold metal pressed against the back of his head.

"Move and you are dead," a woman's voice purred in a thick Russian accent.

*****
The woman in tactical gear spun Zack around, her SMG inches from his face. "So your team was unlucky enough to choose today for what my team was planning." Her accent was thick but precise.

"I'm just the tech guy," Zack said. "Not exactly Special Forces material here."

"Our tech person is also fighter."

"Good for them. I mostly do computers and zombie stuff."

"On your knees. Face wall."

"Yeah... no."

She pressed the barrel against his temple. "This is not request."

"You won't shoot. Too loud."

"Built-in silencer."

"Oh." Zack considered this. "Still not moving."

The woman's response was swift and brutal - the gun butt cracking against his skull before slamming him into the wall. Zack crumpled.

Ow! Adam's mental voice carried genuine pain.

That was... unpleasant, Millicent projected with characteristic understatement.

Zack! You okay? Casey's concern flooded their link.

Zombie, remember? Just playing dead till she leaves. Zack's thoughts were slightly fuzzy but coherent.

Wait, Casey projected, I thought headshots killed zombies?

That would be terribly inefficient, Millicent's mental voice carried a hint of academic interest. Complete bodily destruction, hallowed weapons, or fire are the only reliable methods.

You learn something new every day, Casey thought back.

Adam reached Millicent, lifting the massive egg with a grunt. "It's heavier than it looks," he whispered unnecessarily - their mental link carried his strain.

Millicent's graceful gestures conjured a perfect duplicate egg as the glass case reformed around it. Perfect, she thought. Let's-

"I have two of others," a thick Russian accent cut through the darkness. One of the tactical-suited figures stood blocking their path, SMG trained on them. "Should I shoot?"

*****
Adam moved to shield Millicent, but her annoyed look made him step back. The Russian raised his SMG, finger tightening on the trigger.

Millicent's hand shot out, grasping at empty air. The Russian froze as silvery light poured from his mouth and eyes, coalescing into a spectral duplicate of himself. The soul contracted into a marble-sized sphere between Millicent's fingertips as its former owner stood motionless.

"I'm not the type of princess that needs rescuing," she told Adam dryly.

"Duly noted."

What just happened? Casey projected.

"She pulled out his soul," Adam explained.

Wait, souls are real? Casey's thoughts carried genuine shock. Guess I'm going back to church.

Been there, done that, Zack's mental laughter echoed in their heads. Not as helpful as you'd think.

Millicent studied the glowing sphere, then casually tossed it into the fake egg in the display case. "That should keep." She turned to Adam. "Follow me. Casey, Zack - meet us out back."

On my way with the van, Casey projected.

They moved swiftly through the sculpture gallery, Adam cradling the real egg. A security guard rounded the corner, flashlight beam catching Millicent full in the face. She winced, momentarily blind, as the guard drew his weapon.

Adam reacted instantly, driving his shoulder into the guard's chest. Both men crashed to the floor, the egg still somehow secure in Adam's grip.

"You okay?" he asked Millicent.

"Yes, but I can't cast on what I can't see."

Party just lost their mage, Zack projected with mock announcer voice.

I'll be fine shortly, Millicent thought back, blinking away spots. Just need a moment.

Adam kicked the guard's dropped gun down the hall, then took Millicent's hand with his free one. "This way."

*****

Adam guided Millicent through the Impressionist exhibit, weaving between Monets and Renoirs. "Hope that guard's okay."

"He's breathing fine," Millicent assured him, still blinking away spots.

They rounded a corner to find the Russian woman and a mountain of a man in tactical gear, weapons trained on them.

"How did you get past Alexi?" the woman demanded.

"He wasn't so tough," Adam shrugged.

"Alexi once killed two men with toothbrush."

"I took care of Alexi," Millicent said coolly.

"Impressive." The woman's smile was sharp. "But you cannot leave."

Millicent's vision was still blurry, but she could make out their shapes well enough. "Begone," she commanded. The Russians simply... ceased to exist.

Adam stared at the empty space. "You can be scary sometimes."

"I know. That's why I try not to show it."

"Where are they?"

"Nothingness. I'll bring them back once we're safe."

They found Zack in the next hallway, rubbing his head. "So not fair - I'm a zombie, why do I still feel pain?"

"Lucinda has an interesting sense of humor," Millicent said. "Follow us."

At the rear entrance, Millicent gestured and the door simply vanished. Casey waited in the van, but her mental voice was tense: Guys? Got a Russian on my side with a gun.

Zack grinned. "I got this." He sprinted around the van. "Shoot me! I dare you!"

The Russian obliged, emptying his clip into Zack's chest. As he approached the fallen body, Zack's eyes snapped open. The Russian stumbled back - directly into Casey's fist. She followed with a kick and executed a perfect jiu-jitsu takedown.

"Wait, you know martial arts?" Zack demanded as Casey held the struggling Russian in a chokehold.

Millicent and Adam reached them. With a casual snap of her fingers, Millicent transformed the Russian into a frog.

"That's so cool," Casey breathed, watching it hop away.

"The egg's getting heavier," Adam grunted.

"It's going to hatch soon."

They piled into the van, Casey gunning the engine. As they hit the street, Millicent cradled the egg in her lap while Adam collapsed into his seat.

"How did we actually pull that off?"

*****
The van pulled into a secluded parking lot near Cavendish Heights. As they piled out into the cool night air, Adam shifted the egg carefully in his arms. "It's getting hot - like, really hot."

"The drake is preparing to hatch," Millicent nodded. She pointed elegantly at the van, and it shrank with a soft whoosh until it was no larger than a matchbox. She plucked it from the ground and slipped it into her pocket.

"That's also cool," Casey breathed, watching the casual display of reality-bending magic. "Do you just... keep tiny vans in your pockets all the time?"

"Only on heist nights," Millicent smiled.

"Speaking of which," Zack rubbed his bullet-riddled chest, "can we talk about how I got shot like fifty times? Because that really hurt."

"Twelve times," Millicent corrected. "And you did dare him to do it."

They hurried toward the front of the exclusive high-rise, keeping to the shadows. With a graceful gesture from Millicent, their tactical gear transformed back into normal clothes. Adam quickly wrapped the increasingly warm egg in his coat, both concealing it and protecting his hands.

"The Russians?" Casey asked.

Millicent surveyed the quiet street, then raised her hand. A police cruiser was passing slowly by, the officers inside clearly doing a routine patrol. She gestured delicately, and the vanished Russians materialized in the back seat, wearing nothing but underwear and thoroughly confused expressions.

"That should keep them occupied," she said with satisfaction.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side," Casey muttered.

They slipped inside the building's elegant lobby. The night doorman didn't even look up from his crossword puzzle as they passed - one of Millicent's early enchantments ensuring the 13th floor's privacy remained intact.

In the elevator, Casey looked around with appreciation. "This elevator is seriously like a quarter the size of my apartment. Just saying."

Everyone laughed, the tension of the night finally starting to ease. Even the egg seemed to pulse warmly in response.

"I still can't believe we pulled it off," Adam said, adjusting his grip on their prize.

"We're not done yet," Millicent reminded him. "A drake hatching is... dramatic. We need to get it somewhere safe first."

The elevator doors opened onto the 13th floor - a floor that shouldn't exist, in a space that bent reality just slightly to accommodate it. They hurried down the short hallway to Millicent's door.

Inside the foyer, Lucinda lounged in an ornate chair like a bored empress holding court. Her cigarette holder dangled elegantly between her fingers, blue smoke curling around her head like a crown. She wore a black silk dressing gown covered in red spiders that might have been embroidered but were probably real, frozen in eternal crawl across the fabric.

Her violet eyes sparkled with wicked amusement as she fixed them with an imperial smirk. "Back from your heist so soon?"

Millicent sighed. Of course her sister had known - Lucinda always knew. The question was: what would she do about it?

*****

Millicent fixed her sister with a measured stare. "How long have you known?"

Lucinda took a long, elegant drag from her cigarette holder, casually gesturing the chair she'd been sitting in into nothingness. "Two days. After I sensed shenanigans were afoot." Blue smoke curled from her lips as she smiled wickedly. "It only took a brief peek into Zack's mind to see what you were planning. One really should never 'case out' the place."

"That was your puppeting during the case-out chase?" Zack asked, rubbing his head at the memory.

"Of course." Lucinda's smile widened. "If I hadn’t you would have ben cught and spoiled my sisters adventure"

"One scary kid," Casey muttered, keeping a careful distance.

"Her bark is worse than her bite," Adam said, carefully setting the egg on the marble floor, his coat smoking slightly where it touched the shell.

Lucinda's eyes flashed. With a casual snap of her fingers, she declared, "Change."

Adam's body twisted and contorted until a bizarre creature stood in his place - a dog with no head, just rear ends on both sides. "My bark and bite are equal," Lucinda said smugly.

"Please turn Adam back," Millicent sighed.

Casey stared at the double-ended dog, trying to work out its anatomy. "How does it... I mean, where does the food... never mind, I don't want to know."

With another snap, Adam returned to normal, looking slightly nauseated.

"We could have used some of your magic with those Russians," Zack noted.

"How did my Russians do?" Lucinda asked innocently.

Millicent's eyes narrowed. "They were your Russians?"

"Of course." Lucinda examined her nails. "I figured if you were doing a heist, it would be far more entertaining with some stakes involved. And as I had learned Russian and mastered crypto currency  a month ago… why not "

"They had guns!" Adam protested. "We could have died!"

Lucinda rolled her eyes. "Please. Millicent is a Princess of the Empire, Zack is already dead, and Casey apparently does MMA on weekends. The only one in any real peril was you." She shrugged delicately. "Omelets and eggs."

"But hey, we survived," Casey said brightly.

"I got shot," Zack reminded everyone.

"True, but now we need to focus on that," Millicent pointed at the egg, which was developing distinct cracks across its obsidian surface.

They gathered around as the cracks spread like lightning across the shell. Even Lucinda leaned in with interest, her cigarette temporarily forgotten. The marble floor beneath the egg had begun to steam slightly where the shell fragments touched it.

"Is this normal?" Casey whispered.

"For a drake? There's no such thing as normal," Millicent answered, just as the first piece of shell fell away, revealing something that gleamed like polished midnight beneath.

*****
A large reptilian head emerged from the cracking shell - sleek and elegant with luminous eyes, tiny horns crowning its head and sides, and delicate frills covering its ear holes. It purred like a cat as it kicked free of the remaining shell, revealing a two-foot-long body of midnight-black scales with a verdant green underbelly. Four limbed, small-winged, and tailed, the creature yawned and began mewing plaintively.

"It's adorable!" Casey breathed.

"It is rather cute," Millicent agreed softly.

"Almost worth getting almost murdered for," Adam nodded.

Lucinda approached the drake, reaching out to pat its head. "Hello, little one."

Millicent joined her sister, and the drake's mewing ceased at her touch. It immediately curled against her as she knelt beside it, seeking warmth.

"It needs a name," Zack declared.

"Stanley?" Adam suggested.

"No," Casey vetoed immediately.

"Doom-Rage the Destroyer?"

"Absolutely not," Lucinda rolled her eyes.

"Catherine would be appropriate," she suggested instead.

"It's a boy," Millicent said softly, "and I already have a name for him." She stroked the drake's frills. "Hotspur."

Lucinda's smile carried genuine warmth. "Good one."

"I don't get it," Adam said.

Millicent stood, carefully transferring the drake to Adam's arms. "They're rather like cats..." The creature immediately dug its claws into Adam's shirt.

"Ow! Yeah, definitely like a cat."

"Is anyone hungry?" Millicent asked. A chorus of affirmatives answered her. "Then I'll cook us a victory feast."

"I'll help," Casey offered, following her to the kitchen.

Adam carried the drake to the living room, settling carefully on the sofa. Lucinda and Zack joined them, the young princess looking unusually pleased.

"Hey, can you guys fix me some brains?" Zack called toward the kitchen. "Need to heal up from all those bullets!"

"I've got your back, Icebreaker!" Casey called back with a laugh.

EPILOGUE - One Week Later

Dawn light filtered through the windows of the 13th floor. Millicent stood sipping coffee, watching Hotspur chase one of Lucinda's enchanted butterflies around the living room. The drake had doubled in size already, and his wings were starting to look less decorative and more functional.

In the kitchen, Casey was experimenting with what she called "zombie-friendly brain dishes" while Zack offered increasingly unhelpful suggestions. "What about brain tacos?"

"That's actually not a bad idea," Millicent called. "The Empire had several good recipes for-"

A scream from the hallway interrupted her. Lucinda appeared, looking extremely pleased with herself.

"What did you do?" Millicent sighed.

"That dreadfully noisy woman from 12B is now a rather fetching catus." Lucinda settled into her favorite chair, summoning her cigarette holder. "She'll make an excellent addition to our balcony collection."

"Sister..."

"Oh, fine. I'll change her back. Eventually." Lucinda watched Hotspur catch the butterfly, which exploded into sparkles in his mouth. "He's getting quite good at hunting. Soon he'll be ready for bigger prey."

"No eating the neighbors," Millicent said firmly.

"You're no fun at all."

Adam arrived carrying several large steaks - Hotspur's current favorite food. The drake abandoned his butterfly hunt to bound over excitedly, nearly knocking Adam down.

"He's definitely got your boyfriend's grace," Lucinda smirked.

"And your sense of restraint," Millicent replied.

They watched their strange family - human, witch, zombie, and drake - gathered in this impossible space between worlds. Lucinda created more butterflies with a lazy gesture, and Hotspur chirped happily.

"Next time," Lucinda said casually, "I expect to be included in the heist planning."

"Next time?"

"Oh please, sister. You can't tell me you didn't enjoy it. Just a little?"

Millicent smiled behind her coffee cup. "Perhaps a little."

"Besides," Lucinda added, "I have some simply wonderful ideas about the Museum of Natural History's dinosaur collection..."

"No."

"But-"

"Absolutely not."

Hotspur settled between them, purring like thunder, as another day began on the 13th floor.