by J L Collins
A grin cut across his face, and it was like watching him talk about Brennrie all over again. His dark blue eyes lit up. “We discussed it. As soon as I get the word, I’ll be packing up and heading back to my apartment. Me and Brennrie are going to live there for a while, at least until I can make enough to buy a place. On the other side of town would be nice. It’s the whole reason why we’re even thinking of going to the Gala in the first place.”
As much as I ragged on Tristan and his terrible ideas, I could practically see the reality of his dream in my own head. He was smitten with Brennrie, that much was obvious. And before long, I knew he’d ask her to marry him. He might have played the eternal bachelor while I was gone in the Human Realm for the past fourteen years, but he wasn’t fooling me. He wanted a whole family of his own, just like the one we’d been lucky enough to be a part of when we were young.
I glanced behind him at a smaller portrait on the wall with a gorgeous woman stood against the dark cabinets of the Apothecarium, her dark eyes just as piercing as her auburn hair was vibrant. In her hands was a vial of bright purple liquid I knew to be one of her many self-created potions. My mother stared back at me with a small smile playing on her lips as if she were waiting to tell me a secret.
I let my gaze fall back down toward my brother. “That’s awesome, Tris. I know you have to be so relieved. It feels like things are finally starting to fall into place around here. Don’t you think?”
“Absolutely. I don’t think I can stomach counting the number of stars on my walls anymore.” Aunt Ginevra, a talented artist in her own right, had painted most of the Northern Sky around Tristan’s old bedroom when he was seven. I couldn’t imagine sitting there and counting the constellations, much less all of the tiny blips of whites and yellows dotted around the dark walls.
“Brennrie and I have so many ideas for what to do next. She wants to go traveling for a little while before I really come up with my game plan. But I don’t know—it might make more sense to see how well the business does before we start taking trips and all.”
I smiled at him, really taking in the scruff on his face and the casual way he seemed to grow overnight from a scrawny teenager into a man. I didn’t want to think about all the years I’d missed with him, basically trading that time with him for time with my daughter. But I could spend all the time I needed to with him now.
“Look at you, being fiscally responsible. It’s like you’re an adult or something.” I dodged the pillow thrown at my head, laughing. “Guess I spoke too soon.”
The road through the Spell Haven Market was full of busy shoppers, plenty of them with arms full of gifts. Others were cutting through the crowd with floating woven baskets trailing them, brimming with items. Some had their carriage transports idling nearby in the main parking lot for downtown Spell Haven, instead of trying to navigate the street full of people.
As much as I was in love with the beautiful scenery myself, nothing was better than watching Fiona-Leigh’s face light up. She scanned the crowd, the different vendors under their weather-repelling canopies and tents, and the smoke pluming into the air from the town square’s annual Yule log bonfire several blocks down. Her freckles always reminded me of rust-colored splatters of paint on a snow-white canvas.
“This is like one of those Norman Rockwell paintings,” she laughed, shaking her head. “My art teacher would just die. Maybe because of the aesthetic, maybe because of the troll selling hand-carved clubs over there… who knows?”
“Is he a famous artist?” I asked, genuinely unaware of who the guy was. Fiona-Leigh was definitely more knowledgeable of the Human Realm than I was, having grown up in it.
“Yep. I was over at Marina’s grandparent’s house a few years ago and they had an original painting on a wall in their dining room. They went on and on about it, saying it was a piece of American history or something. I learned about him last year in school, in my art class. Mrs. Portman showed us this—oh my god! Mama! Look at that!”
I looked in the direction she was jabbing her finger. The crowd had parted to make room for a huge wooden sleigh covered in holly with pinecones woven around it. The driver of the sleigh held tightly to the reins in his hand, shouting to the group of reindeer who didn’t seem to have a single snowflake on their fur. He waved and chuckled at the people in the crowd, tossing small boxes and pieces of wrapped candy overboard to them as the reindeer pulled him on.
If Fi’s jaw dropped any more, it would’ve fallen to the ground. “Is that? Is that who I think it is?”
I glanced back at the man who was now standing in his sleigh, his thick white beard and the long, brown woolen overcoat not really registering with me. He adjusted the holly laurel crowning his head and took another puff off of his pipe before tossing over another round of candy to the children—Witches and others alike. It took me a second to understand what she meant, remembering the first time she (and I) heard mention of Christmas in school. “Oh, right. I almost forgot.”
Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head as she slowly turned to me. “You. Almost. Forgot? You’re telling me that Santa Claus is real, and you just conveniently forgot to mention it to me? Are you serious?” her voice pitched a decibel higher with each syllable.
“Well I mean, he’s not Santa Claus-Santa Claus. That’s the Holly King. Or at least, he’s like a mall-Santa of the Holly King.”
“The Holly King?”
“Yeah, you know. He represents the time of the year where winter overtakes the land, he and the Oak King duke it out and he wins, yada yada. You know, the Holly King. Why are you looking at me like that?” What did they teach in her school, anyway?
“Right…”
Isobel’s kids, Lyra and Sean ran up to us from somewhere in the crowd, yanking at Fi’s hand. “Come on, Fiona-Leigh. If we hurry, we might get something good.”
She flashed me a quick smile and then she was off with her cousins, running at the fake Holly King at full speed. It was nice to see the sliver of childlike curiosity in her, especially when she practically looked like a woman and certainly tried to sound like one.
It was like everyone and their mother was out today, strolling along the street and side streets. The closer I got to the town center’s Yule log, the spicier the air smelled, like sugared figs and star anise. Many of the food and spice vendors were scattered around here, selling airy pies that were delicious and so light that you could eat three whole pies before ever feeling full. They were a personal favorite of mine when I was pregnant with Fiona-Leigh…
I stopped at a few of the tents, saying hi to a couple of the faces I knew, and checking out their items. Flipping over a pair of dwarf-smithed earrings in the shape of feathers, I debated on what I wanted to get for Fi. I brought a few of her gifts from home, knowing she was particularly hoping for a new set of wireless headphones and plenty of books. I’d opted for the headphones which I could tuck into my suitcase, and a couple of gift cards I knew she would be happy with. The other present I had for her was something I was hoping I’d really surprise her with, though I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to give it to her here, or back home.
Speaking of… I still had to find the perfect gift for Sully. What that was, was still a mystery to me. He made sure to tell me it wasn’t expected of me, but there was no way I was going to let him get me something and not reciprocate. Because I knew darn well that the man was going to go out of his way to get me something—that’s just the kind of guy he was. But what could I get here, in Spell Haven? The mini dragon earrings that puffed out enchanted realistic flames hanging from one of the racks seemed a little too on the nose.
“Gwendolyn Brady. So it’s true—you’re back in Spell Haven.”
I nearly dropped the earrings, careful to recover them and place them back on the velvety spread. Turning around, I did a quick mental search to place the voice to a face. Just as I had figured it out, I saw her and raised my brows.
“Althea?”
Her face had a couple of lines i
n it, and she’d grown out her old curly pixie-cut into a shoulder length cut that looked like a raven dusted in snowflakes. But my old fellow Shadow Hand, Althea Costas, still looked just as I remembered her.
She waved a little, her smile not as intimidating as I used to find it. When we were in the academy together, Althea, who had moved to Spell Haven from some island called Atlantis with her family, seemed ready to take me on at every turn. She was fast, strong, and whip smart. I hated her, but at the same time I couldn’t help but admire her. As much as she used to put me through my paces, she was a good person. She continually proved that time and time again. Being one of the only people I had graduated with that didn’t give me the cold shoulder after I got pregnant, she deserved a gold star in my book.
“In the flesh. Wow, it’s been a long time. I feel like I just stepped out of the training room, seeing you here,” she said.
I couldn’t help but smile, but I wasn’t sure whether this meeting required a hug, a handshake or what. “Yeah, no kidding.” I shuffled, looking back over at the shopkeeper who seemed to be eyeing me suspiciously. I hadn’t realized my hand was covering the set of earrings I’d been holding, and I quickly pulled my hand back, still awkwardly smiling at Althea.
We both stood there nodding like idiots until she finally broke the pause. “So. How’s your kid?”
Small talk was never my favorite, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to catch up with her. I told her about Fiona-Leigh, skipping over the part where my boyfriend—her father—had died, and jumping to where Aunt Bedelia spilled the beans about the whole magic-wielding thing.
Althea listened, somewhat distracted as she continued to look around us as if she were looking for something. I trailed off, and I knew I must’ve looked a little hurt, because she quickly shook her head.
“No, no. I’m sorry, Gwen. I promise you you’re not boring me or anything. I’m just looking for my husband. He was supposed to meet me here by the pop-up gyro shop, with Anthony,” she said, giving me an apologetic smile.
“Anthony…?”
“My son. He’s a year old already. It feels like he was born just a few days ago sometimes! It’s so hard to remember what day it is half the time, yet I can remember the exact moment he was born, every detail. Isn’t that crazy?”
Boy, just wait until little Anthony started talking about learning to drive. “I find myself saying the exact same thing all the time,” I agreed. “So, you have a baby? I have to admit… I definitely did not see that one coming.” It may have been a sort of rude thing to say to anyone else, but Althea had spent most of our time in the Academy talking about how much she would rather lock herself up in the Athenaeum of the Unseen, than have kids. “If I ever get married, the first thing on the list is to get my partner whatever kind of magical snip-snip they require. No Witchlings for me, no way.”
“Yeah,” she chuckled, sounding somewhat sheepish. “I guess when you get older, you realize how silly it is to say never. If it weren’t for Rufio, I probably would’ve never come around to the idea.”
I raised my brow. “Rufio? As in Rufio Clements, the Lead Investigator of the Shadow Hands? What!?”
“Yeah, that guy. I know, I know,” she laughed again, holding up her hands, the paper handles of her bags falling into the crooks of her arms. “It’s a long story. You know how much I couldn’t stand him in school but—”
Althea stopped short, her gaze landing somewhere behind me. Whatever she was looking at was getting Althea’s well-known death glare. Which was really saying something, considering she had a Gorgon somewhere long ago in her family lineage.
I finally turned, curious, and searched the scene for a moment before realizing what it was she was looking at.
Standing in the middle of a small gathering of people all clamoring for her attention, was a woman I’d only seen in photos from closed investigation case files… Delaney Drakar. Her dark hair was twisted up into some complicated braid around her head, her vivid purple eyes outlined under heavy dark makeup. The black Web-Winged Dragon-hide coat she was wearing shimmered under the sun, and she was laughing, her voice higher-pitched than I’d imagined it to be. This wasn’t just your everyday run-of-the-mill mean girl, though she definitely could be seen as that—always having the upper hand and getting away with whatever she needed to. Delaney seemed to have a flair of charisma to her, because everyone surrounding her, all Witches whose clothing suggested wealth, were leaning in on every word she spoke.
I rubbed at my jaw, realizing I’d been grinding my teeth a little too hard.
“She’s a snake, that one,” Althea hissed, both of us still staring. “Everyone thinks she’s some angelic contributing citizen, just because of her family.”
I nodded. “Oh, I know all about her. Unfortunately.”
“Yeah? Did you know she tried to have Rufio fired for disorderly conduct before he became Lead? Oh yes, she did,” she added, seeing the incredulous look on my face. “He was part of an investigation a few years ago into a fight that broke out at one of her elaborate parties for her Dark Market friends. One hobgoblin was severely injured when he was trampled, and claimed it was because she egged on some kind of Witchhunt against someone else in the party. The person went missing, and Rufio was at her place, conducting a search which he was legally allowed to, but she tried to make it seem like he was in there, stealing from her home. Obviously none of this was true, but it still made him look bad. Needless to say, I’d love to have some very strong words with her one on one, if you know what I mean.”
I did. And I pitied anyone who wanted to square off with Althea, except maybe Delaney. Unlike most Sirens, Althea had trained very heavily in weaponry in Atlantis, and wielded a trident like no one’s business. She didn’t need her magic to take out an opponent—it was just the icing on the cake for her.
As if she’d heard her name mentioned, Delaney slowly came closer, still chatting with her admirers, as a floating gold shopping bin followed all of them. I tried to avoid it, but the moment she stopped and glanced around at the vendors nearby, we locked eyes. Even though we’d never actually met, I knew in an instant that she knew who I was. Her vivid eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but her lips curled into an odd smile that didn’t seem to reach them.
“Oh Merlin, she’s coming this way,” Althea groaned, quickly turning away.
I knew it was just a trick of my imagination, but everything else seemed to fade away as Delaney deliberately walked up to me. Her friends all wore matching puzzled expressions until they saw Althea and I standing there.
“The Inquisitor’s niece, isn’t it? I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” Delaney said, sidling up to us without a thought of boundaries or personal space. “I’m Delaney.” The scent of something sickly sweet permeated the air around her. One of her fans should probably tell her to cover up her odor problem with something a little less overpowering…
“I’m aware,” I said simply, not caring for the way her fake smile had curled into something different. I thought of Gentry and his loyalty for her and couldn’t understand it.
“I see. Well, let me welcome you back to our lovely town, after such a long absence. Your family must have missed you terribly.”
I didn’t have to explain myself, but it was difficult to remain civil, even still. “My family is glad I’m here, yes.”
Something flickered in her eyes. “And your brother? How is he doing? I know he was a long-time friend of that troublesome vampire… Enoch, I believe?”
As if her boyfriend wasn’t the one who killed the so-called troublesome vampire, gunning for my brother next.
I fought against rolling my eyes and shrugged. “I’d hardly call Enoch his friend. Especially since you know, he’s dead and all. But I’m sure you know all about it.”
She lifted her head, her pointy chin jutting forward as if she suddenly smelled something foul. “I’m not sure everyone in Enoch’s circle would care one way or the other. Your brother had a part to play in
his death, or at least this is what has been told to me… I hear things, being so tightly knit with our community here. Chaos around here really makes for interesting conversation in Spell Haven.”
I took a small step forward, dropping my voice. “You can play the innocent and concerned citizen with them all you want, but it’s pointless with me,” I said, nodding toward the people who were still lingering several feet away behind her.
I bit back mentioning anything about my suspicions of her, or of her part to play in the Dark Market. I didn’t want to give anything away, especially with the MARC in place to take the whole thing down.
This earned a wicked grin from her. “You must really have me pinned, Gwendolyn Brady. Although I can’t say the same of you just yet. I’d originally thought you were just a pathetic Alchemist trying to play it big with the Siren Shadow Hands… who ended up getting knocked up by a filthy human of all things. How is your half-breed baby, anyway? Must be all grown-up now, right? And now you think yourself a town hero, beating the Shadow Hands at their own game and making yourself look like some kind of savior. How fun it would be to see your ultimate fall from grace, yet again. I wonder how long we’ll have to wait for that one.”
My cheeks burned like fire, and I was well-aware of my nails cutting into my palms within the fists at my sides. I didn’t offend easily, but Delaney was a master with cutting words it seemed. I didn’t take the bait, but I didn’t stand around waiting to think of some witty reply, either.
“You ready, Althea?” I said, turning back to my friend, ignoring the soft laugh from Delaney.
Althea pursed her lips. “More than ready to vacate this conversation. And Gwen, did you smell that? Like someone died in a candy factory accident or something?” she said with a disgusted look, linking her arm in mine and pulling me away from Delaney.
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