Fated Encounters

Chapter 20

Patrick stood in the dusty old study, the scent of leather-bound books and time-worn wood filling the air. His eyes swept over the shelves lined with history—his father’s life, his work, and the secrets he had kept from him. After days of searching for Angela and coming up with nothing, he knew there was only one thing left to do: protect the Andasastra. His father had made it clear how crucial it was, and Patrick couldn’t afford to lose more than he already had.

Rex sat alert beside him, his tail twitching as if he too understood the gravity of what they were about to do. The dog had been by his side through it all, a silent companion in the growing storm that loomed over them. Patrick knelt and scratched behind Rex’s ears. “We need to keep this safe, boy. If they get their hands on it… we’re all finished.”

The Andasastra sat on the desk, its pages yellowed with age, but the power it contained was undeniable. It held knowledge of every creature that walked among them—humans, supernatural beings, and even the aliens who had abducted Will. Within its pages were secrets that many would kill for. Patrick’s father had died protecting it, and now it was up to him.

But with Angela gone, everything felt heavier. The weight of his mistakes, of her absence, bore down on him as he packed the Andasastra into a weathered leather satchel. It wasn’t just about protecting the book—it was about keeping her safe, too, even if she was nowhere to be found. He couldn’t let this fall into the wrong hands.

“Let’s go,” Patrick muttered, standing up and slinging the satchel over his shoulder. Rex barked softly in response, ready to follow him into whatever unknown lay ahead.

As they moved towards the exit, Patrick’s foot kicked something. It was a small black notebook, one he hadn’t noticed before. Frowning, he bent down and picked it up, recognizing his father’s handwriting scrawled on the front cover: Contacts.

Patrick's heart pounded. His father’s contacts? Why hadn’t he found this earlier? Flipping open the first few pages, he saw names of people from all over the world—hunters, researchers, and old friends his father had known in his search for knowledge. But as Patrick continued skimming, one name stood out, underlined in bold ink:

Morgana, Witch of the Southern Hills.
Beneath the name, in his father’s unmistakable handwriting, was a note: You can trust her. She will guide you through the battle.

Patrick stared at the words, his mind racing. A witch? His father had never mentioned her before, but the urgency of the note left no room for doubt. Will had clearly meant for Patrick to find her, especially now, when the danger surrounding the Andasastra was greater than ever.

He closed the contact book, his thoughts spinning. Could this Morgana help him not only with the battle but also with finding Angela? Maybe she could offer guidance, give him a way forward where everything seemed so dark and uncertain.

Rex nudged his leg, sensing his hesitation. Patrick knelt down again, pressing his forehead against Rex’s. “I don’t know what we’re walking into, but we don’t have a choice. We need her help. And if Dad trusted her, we have to trust her too.”

Patrick stood and pocketed the contact book before heading out. As they made their way to the van, the weight of the decision hung over him. Protecting the Andasastra was vital, but finding Morgana could be the key to so much more. She might know how to fight the enemies closing in on him—and maybe, just maybe, she could help him find Angela before it was too late.

He secured the satchel with the Andasastra in the back of the van and looked over at Rex. The dog gave him a knowing look, as if he, too, felt the importance of what lay ahead. Patrick climbed into the driver’s seat, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly as he took a deep breath. His father had always been a step ahead, and this time, Patrick had to trust that Will’s plan would lead them in the right direction.

As they drove down the winding roads toward the Southern Hills, Patrick couldn’t shake the feeling that time was running out—not just for him, but for everyone involved in this tangled web of destiny. He had to protect the Andasastra, find Angela, and now, seek out a witch who held the key to the battle his father had prepared him for.

The road stretched ahead of him, uncertain and shadowed by doubt, but one thing was clear: he couldn’t turn back now. His father’s words echoed in his mind—you can trust her—and he hoped to God that Will had been right.

Because if he wasn’t, everything could come crashing down.