Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus Allies

by Lydia Sherrer

  Avoiding Madam Barrington’s sharp gaze, Lily went straight to her chair, began to sit down, then jumped up in alarm at Sir Kipling’s hiss of protest. “Good grief,” she grumped at him, picking him up and settling him on her lap as she reclaimed her seat. It took him a moment of ear flicking and tail twitching to decide if he was going to jump down in a huff or stay and get petted. He chose the latter, and Lily was grateful for his comforting warmth.

  Sebastian soon returned, face alight with interest. It clouded over, however, when he noticed the only vacant chair was right beside Madam Barrington. Lily returned his plaintive look with a steely expression. The message was clear: get over it. He did, though not without a dark look of his own.

  “Now that we are all present,” Madam Barrington said crisply, interrupting the youngsters’ glaring contest, “let us get right to the point. As we have recently learned, John Faust LeFay is studying wizard genes in hopes of finding a way to make more wizards. How he imagines he can accomplish that, we do not know. But we do know he is seeking out Morgan le Fay, one of his ancestors, in hopes that her power and knowledge will help him achieve his goal of preserving the wizard race and ruling mundanes.

  “To give you both some background, the LeFay family is very rich, very powerful, and very old. They were one of the most prominent wizard families left in England in the early 1900s. Some saw their move to America in the 1950s as a step down in the world. If the rumors are to be believed, it was Ursula who convinced Henry to do it. Something about being closer to her side of the family.” Lily glanced at Sebastian, suddenly remembering that her father had mentioned the Blackwoods in relation to the Blackwells, something about a murder or a feud. She wondered if that was the side of the family her mentor referred to. “In any case, I suspect John Faust’s aggression and ambition are partially connected to his desire to regain his family’s prestige. There are rumors of threats and deals.”

  “You can say that again,” Sebastian muttered.

  “Excuse me?” Madam Barrington’s sharp ears did not miss a thing.

  “Oh, um,” Sebastian paused, noticing that all eyes were on him. “Well, I’ve been doing some digging. You know, milking my, erm, contacts.” He laughed nervously, no doubt trying not to wither under his aunt’s disapproving stare. “The point is, Mr. Fancypants isn’t just active among wizards. I don’t have any specifics yet, but I think he’s got his fingers in the whole magical community, not to mention the, er, illegal side of things, both magical and mundane. Sorry,” he finished with an apologetic glance at Lily.

  So that’s what he’d been up to with Tina, she thought, slightly mollified. “No need to apologize. It’s not as if I didn’t already know he was a scumbag.”

  “Hm,” Madam Barrington agreed. “It is not exactly a shocking revelation. The question becomes, have you learned anything useful?” She arched a critical eyebrow at her nephew.

  “Um…not yet,” he admitted, glancing at Lily again. “But we’re working on it.”

  “Do let us know,” her mentor said dryly, then continued. “John Faust was largely educated in England and so still retains considerable connections there. I know his wizard teacher by reputation, and he is the best there is, at least on this half of the hemisphere. Fortunately for us, the man is a virtual hermit and the epitome of conservative, so it is unlikely he would aid John Faust in his plans. That is probably why John Faust seeks to discover the resting place of Morgan le Fay: a lack of allies or like-minded individuals in his own circle of influence. We wizards may not be paragons of virtue, but our culture runs deep. We are scholars, not rulers. We do not interfere.”

  “Except when we do,” Lily muttered.

  “Yes,” Madam Barrington agreed, tiredly. “Except then.”

  They fell silent, each lost in their own dark thoughts.

  “So, tell us about Morgan le Fay,” Lily finally prompted.

  Her mentor’s eyes lost their focus as she cast her memory deep into the past. “She was a real person, that much is known, though most of her exploits in mundane literature are not to be believed. She lived in a time when mundanes were unusually tolerant to the idea of magic. During the time of King Arthur, several prominent wizard families became entangled in the politics of the time after having foolishly intermarried with the ruling elite. What may have begun as simple family rivalry turned into a struggle for the kingdom, and things went downhill from there. While Morgan le Fay may have been the most notorious, she certainly was not the only one. Merlin, bless his heart, tried to mediate, but nobody much wanted to listen to reason back then.”

  “But what is so special about Morgan that John Faust thinks he will gain by finding her?” Lily asked. “Why isn’t he looking for Merlin, or some other great wizard?”

  Madam Barrington nodded thoughtfully. “A valid question. I believe it is a matter of influence. We have very little primary source information about Merlin, but all writings agree that he was a conscientious man. I doubt he would agree to help John Faust, and he is too powerful to be coerced.”

  “Wait a minute,” Sebastian broke in. “You’re talking as if Merlin is still alive. That’s impossible.”

  Madam Barrington was quiet for a long moment, staring at the both of them. Lily knew that look. It was the one her teacher got every time she was trying to decide how much to tell and how much to hide.

  “I thought we weren’t hiding things from each other anymore.” Lily spoke, trying to keep any hint of hurt or petulance out of her voice.

  Her teacher’s gaze turned to her, and it held a depth and authority that Lily shrank back from. “Knowledge is a gift, not a privilege. It is a responsibility—a burden—not some prize to be won. And without wisdom, it is as deadly as any out-of-control spell. It will kill you just as quickly. I am trying to balance your healthy growth with the danger involved in knowing. I have seen too many wizards destroyed by it. I do not wish that for you.”

  Lily’s mouth snapped shut with a clop, and she sank back into her chair, thoroughly chastised. Just when she thought she was getting a grip on things, she was reminded how inexperienced she actually was.

  After an appropriate pause, Madam Barrington continued. “While no one can prove that Morgan le Fay or Merlin are still alive, there are rumors. Their bodies have never been found, and then there is the legend of Avalon. While mundane myths are far off the mark, they had to originate somewhere. If it exists, Avalon is most likely a reinforced time loop”—Lily and Sebastian glanced at each other in trepidation—“with a portal allowing subjects to enter and leave without halting the loop. Legends of such a refuge existed long before Arthur’s time. One would gain a great deal of power from knowledge of this place, and John Faust must hope Morgan will lead him to it. Being Morgan’s descendant, he obviously thinks she will be inclined to help him.

  “What makes the matter complicated is Geoffrey of Monmouth, a Welsh cleric and author of Historia Regum Britanniae, from which most mundane legends of King Arthur and his time stem. What is not known to mundanes, of course, is that Geoffrey acquired several primary-source wizard texts, which is why he knew more of the actual story than many give him credit for. Geoffrey’s problem is that he was mundane himself and was not able to understand what he found in context, leading to the creation of a “Historia” that was only half truth and half creative interpretation. Our problem today is that we don’t have the original texts Geoffrey used and so must guess, based on other secondary and tertiary sources, what actually happened.

  “There was rumor, however, of one text found in the LeFay family’s collection that spoke of Morgan’s exile from Avalon after the events of King Arthur’s reign. If the rumor holds any truth, it means Morgan’s grave might be found. Whether she is dead and rotted in it, or else found a way to preserve herself, I have no notion. John Faust, obviously, hopes for the latter, but either would suit him.”

  “So who has the text now?” Lily asked.

  “John Faust, I would assume.”

  “
Then how are we supposed to stop him? Break into his house and steal it?”

  “Nothing quite so dramatic,” Madam Barrington assured her. “No, there may be another way to find out what the text says, and that is to find someone else who has read it.”

  “Henry?” Lily asked, thinking John Faust’s soft-spoken and sympathetic father might be inclined to help them.

  “Oh, no. He might have acted to save your life, Lily, but he is still a LeFay. In any case, he probably never read it. He has only a passing interest in magic, having focused mainly on the family business. No, we are going to pay a visit to Allen LeFay.”

  “Who?” Lily asked, confused.

  “John Faust’s younger, and much less well-known, brother.”

  Sebastian’s mouth dropped open and Lily’s eyes grew wide as saucers. It was a moment before she found her voice. “What? He has a brother? I mean, I have an uncle?” The possibilities sent her reeling, imagining another egomaniacal jerk like her father. But Madam Barrington just smiled.

  “Never fear. He is nothing like your father, the darling child of Ursula. Allen takes more after Henry, though he has an eye for magic his father never had. They sent him with John Faust to England for his education, but he had health problems and they brought him home halfway through to finish his studies in the warm South. I was a part of those studies, since I had already tutored both boys until they were old enough for boarding school.”

  Lily still couldn’t believe it. She had an uncle. And he might be halfway decent. She felt a flicker of hope. “So where is he? When do we go see him?” she asked, leaning forward in her chair. The motion disturbed Sir Kipling, who yawned, threw her a perturbed look, and jumped down off her lap.

  “That,” her mentor said, “is the problem. I do not know where he is anymore. As you might imagine, he was not very close to his older brother. John Faust was always trying to pull him into interfamily politics, using him as a pawn while constantly showing off to prove his superior ability. All Allen wanted was a quiet life. He left about twenty years ago and I have had little contact with him since. I thought you or perhaps”—she paused, lips pursed—“Sebastian might know a way to search via mundane databases on the Internet. I may not be familiar with the most modern mundane technology, but I can not deny its usefulness.”

  Lily smiled, remembering her mentor’s utter loathing of the McCain Library’s online database and how she’d spent years avoiding it, only to dump the out-of-date and disorganized system into Lily’s lap when she took over. Lily had spent months working with the head librarian to update it.

  “I have a better idea,” Sebastian offered. “We’re short on time, right? I mean, Mr. Fancypants could be taking over the world as we speak, right?”

  Madam Barrington arched an eyebrow at her nephew’s exaggeration but nodded in agreement.

  “Okie-dokie. Well, I think I can find him in a matter of hours, but I’ll need something of his. Something that has his scent on it.”

  While Madam Barrington thought, Lily gave Sebastian a hard stare. He was about to whip out fae magic, and she had yet to pin him down and get any straight answers out of him.

  “I have a letter he sent me about five years ago,” Madam Barrington finally said. “Would that do?”

  “Perfect!” Sebastian rubbed his hands together, eyes alight with an adventurous gleam. “Now, this might involve a little, erm…” he slowed, realizing what he’d been about to say.

  “Yes, Sebastian, please do tell us all about your fae magic. You know, those abilities you’ve been hiding up your sleeve for years? I’m sure it will be fascinating.” Lily enjoyed the moment as Sebastian squirmed under her and Madam Barrington’s unyielding stares.

  He didn’t look happy about it but finally threw up his hands in defeat. “Fine, whatever. Just don’t tell anyone. I already have enough people gunning for me as it is, alright?”

  Lily and Madam Barrington nodded, though the older woman’s lips turned downward in a frown. “I might point out, nephew, that had you simply followed my advice a decade ago, you would not have such a problem.”

  “Yeah?” He turned and addressed his great-aunt directly for the first time since Lily had met him. “Actually, if I’d followed your advice I’d be dead.”

  Lily’s eyebrows shot up, but her friend didn’t elaborate, barreling on instead as he vented feelings he’d probably kept bottled up for far too long.

  “I’m sick of this whole ‘wizards are the superior race and witches are a disgrace’ stuff. It’s bull and you know it. I’m an adult with my own skills and responsibilities. It’s time I got a bit of respect from you, even if you don’t agree with how I do business. Maybe I didn’t turn out the way you’d hoped, but Mom and Dad would have accepted me for who I am. They taught me to find my own path and help where I could, and that’s what I’m doing.” He glared at her defiantly, and Lily waited with bated breath.

  Ethel Mathers Barrington looked steadily at her great-grandnephew, and Lily could only wonder what was going on behind those dark eyes. Perhaps memories of him as a boy, his parents’ death, and his struggles since then. Perhaps she was weighing opinions against facts, cynicism against charity, and seeing which came out on top.

  “Very well, Sebastian,” Madam Barrington said in a cool, composed voice. “I have seen too much damage done by witches to ever think favorably of them as a whole, but I am willing to be shown why you are not like the others. However, if you ever attempt to summon a demon, associate with them, or use their power, I will have no choice but to seek your destruction. They are the most vile, foul beasts in the heavens above or the earth beneath, and they destroy everything they touch. I would sooner cut a branch from the tree than see the whole tree fall into the flame.”

  Sebastian nodded in agreement, looking pale but determined. “I’m not an idiot, Aunt. Thanks to you.” He flashed her a humorless smile, then got up from his chair, muttering, as if to himself, “In for a penny, in for a pound.”

  He walked to the center of the room and turned to face them. “I’m not positive she can hear me here, but I’ll try anyway. Stay there, and no magic. You might scare her.” Raising his voice, he spoke in a melodic, flowing tongue foreign to Lily, yet somehow familiar-sounding. “Elwa, Pilanti’ara. Ihki naroom?”

  There was silence for a long moment. Then, from a great distance, Lily heard tinkling laughter so high-pitched it was nearly a squeak. The sound repeated, louder this time, and suddenly there was something small zipping around the room. In her mind’s eye Lily could see its magic. It trailed out behind the tiny creature like a green comet. The little thing finally came to hover near Sebastian’s head, moving ceaselessly as it twitched up, down, back, and forth in hummingbird-like bursts. The squeaking laugh was replaced by a high-pitched chatter that Lily thought might be English, if it was slowed down about four times over. So, she thought, this was the little creature who’d helped rescue her from the LeFay estate. She hadn’t gotten a good look at it then, being drugged and half conscious at the time. Lily glanced over at Madam Barrington to see her reaction. The older woman looked intensely interested—the equivalent of wide-eyed wonder in a normal person.

  “This is Pip,” Sebastian said, grinning at their expressions. “She’s a pixie. Pip, remember these guys? We helped them a few weeks ago.”

  Pip bobbed and squeaked, then flashed over to Lily and tugged gently on her ear before zipping up to do several loop-de-loops above her head. Lily was so startled she simply froze, not sure if she was being attacked.

  Sebastian laughed. “She likes you. She just said she’s glad you’re alright. That ear tug is a sign of affection.”

  “Oh.” Lily relaxed and smiled tentatively. Then she spotted Sir Kipling crouched on top of one of the bookshelves, bright yellow eyes following every movement of the tiny fae.

  “Sir Edgar Allan Kipling!” she exclaimed, voice startling her feline out of his predatory trance. “Don’t even think about it, not for one second.” She glared dagge
rs at him, and he flicked his ears back in consternation.

  “It’s not like I want to eat it,” he protested mulishly. “Just…play with it.”

  Sebastian and Madam Barrington looked at each other, nonplussed, as Lily carried on a conversation they could only understand half of. Pip, either oblivious to the danger or else foolishly unafraid, went to fly figure eights over Sir Kipling. The cat seemed mesmerized by its movements, head swaying back and forth and mouth opening to chatter at the pixie as if it were a bird outside his window at home.

  Alarmed, Lily began to rise from her chair. Her movement startled Sir Kipling and his head snapped down, wide yellow eyes and dilated pupils fixed on her. “Quit it,” she warned him, ominously. “If you can’t control your instincts, I’ll have you sedated. You take one swipe at any pixie or fairy or whatever we come across, and you’re grounded. For life. They’re our allies and the last thing we need is for your stupid cat instincts to mess that up. Understand?”

  He didn’t reply, but laid his ears flat in submission, hopped down from the bookshelf, and slunk off into the shadows, shooting her dirty looks as he went.

  “Sorry about that,” she apologized to Sebastian. “You should probably warn your friends to stay away from Sir Kipling, just in case.” It was then that she noticed he was shaking with suppressed laughter.

  “That was hysterical,” he managed between snorts. “Seeing you assert your authority as head of the pride—ha!—priceless.”

  “Well excuse me for helping,” she huffed, attempting to sound stern as she went cross-eyed in an attempt to look at Pip who had just perched on her nose.

  “Don’t worry about it. If Kip is foolish enough to go after a fae, he’ll learn pretty quick that claws and teeth are no match for magic. They can take care of themselves, believe me.”

  Mollified, Lily eased back into her chair, trying not to disturb the pixie, who was now poking around in her hair-bun and giggling with glee.

  “So…” Madam Barrington prompted, having watched the whole show with arched brows.