The plane climbs higher. He points the nose toward the volcano. I look out at the wing and realize we don’t have any running lights on.

He speaks to the camera. “I remember the first time I took you flying. I never met anyone who learned as fast as you. I should have known. I realize now that you were just testing me.”

It sounds like a love letter. I want to challenge him with this, but I don’t want to give up my advantage. If you can call it that. I can still barely move my fingers. I try to do some of my stationary yoga flexes to get the blood flowing through my muscles. If I can get my hands around my body fast enough, I might be able to get his gun and make him bring us back down to the landing strip.

I have to wait for the right moment. I need him to think he’s safe. That’ll be when he undoes my seat belt. He’ll have to do that if he wants to push me out. Only this time it won’t be onto an old runway to break bones like the Warlock probably did to Claire. He wants me thrown into the caldera of the volcano.

I doubt there’s a lake filled with lava inside there. Probably just a bunch of steaming vents and ash cones. The effect will be the same. The impact will trigger some seismological gadget and somebody will be sent out to inspect the disturbance.

Either way, they’ll find my smoldering corpse in the middle of a fiery volcano. Retribution. It’ll show the reach of his power. With no witnesses and him locked away in jail, it’ll be another mystery to build on his legend. How did the Witch end up in the volcano?

It won’t be a big illusion like the other three, but will prove to the world that even behind bars he can make strange and horrible things happen.

I wonder how many other people there are like the man who has captured me. It’s a scary thought.

“We’re almost there. I’d like to climb and cut the power and glide, really soar on the wind, but I think I’ll have to save that for later. Or at least until I lighten the load.”

The volcano looms. We’re on a path to go over the collapsed edge. I hear his fingers flip a few switches and then the sound of his seat belt unbuckling. He leans over to my seat. I can feel his breath on my neck. His hand slips across my waist and touches the seat belt. It pauses for a moment. A finger caresses my abdomen. He lets go of the seat belt and grabs the door handle instead.

I’ve only got seconds. I watch his wrist turn the handle. He pushes it open and the air rushes into the cockpit. One hand grabs my bound hands while the other unfastens my seat belt. He has me tightly. I can’t slide my hands free. I can’t get loose. I’m being lifted off the seat.