I nodded, though I could feel the tension that had taken up residence in my jaw. From keeping my mouth shut, perhaps.
“I believed … still believe … that Capri could and does provide a caring, stable environment for Opal. When Opal kept running away, once getting as far as the California border, it was Capri who worked hard to get her enrolled at the Academy. Not to cede responsibility for Opal, but to help focus her. And it worked. It was working.”
“I know,” I said. “I’m not questioning that. I’m grateful …”
“We couldn’t care for Opal before,” Christopher said, filling in the thoughts I couldn’t articulate. “We needed to get settled ourselves. But fate apparently has other ideas.”
Ember glanced at each of us, holding our gazes for a long while. Then she nodded. “I agree. I’ve had a personal experience with an Adept who can see the future. I’ve seen that future tied to paper, even as I ink my contracts.” She cleared her throat, settling her gaze on her hands. “I believe in … fate.”
I didn’t. I chafed at the idea of anything being decided for me. But if Ember’s beliefs ensured that she would fall on our side of the argument, I certainly wasn’t going to argue with the lawyer witch about it.
The corners of her lips curled, as if she were reading my mind. Or perhaps it was my demeanor she picked up on so easily. “I’ve also seen that destiny thwarted.”
“Really?” Christopher asked. “By the intervention of that same individual? The seer?”
Ember smiled tightly, but she didn’t answer him. Instead, she pulled a fresh yellow pad of paper from her briefcase and uncapped her pen. “The dog? Paisley?”
I grimaced, glancing at Christopher.
He nodded, once.
“She’s a … demon hybrid.”
Ember didn’t even flinch. She just started making notes.
I shoved away years of ingrained protective instincts. “How much of this are we going to need to reveal?”
“As little as possible.”
Christopher sighed heavily. “Paisley is bound to us.”
Ember waved her hand, pen wedged between her fingers. “And this Samantha person?”
“Her too.”
“Which is why she was able to come through the property wards?”
“Yes,” I said, half lying. The wards hadn’t been tied to Christopher or me yet. But even once they were, any of the Five would still be able to pass through them. “Just like any of your immediate family members would be able to step through your wards, Ember.”
She nodded. “And the sorcerer …” She corrected herself quickly. “Aiden Myers.”
“He’s staying,” Christopher said gruffly. “That’s not for you to question.”
Ember looked momentarily aghast. “That wasn’t my intention. I’m simply figuring out the best route, moving forward.”
I pressed my knee to Christopher’s under the table. He nodded, settling back in his chair.
Silence stretched between us. Ember paused thoughtfully, then added a few more lines to her notepad. She looked at me, tapping her pen on the page as if waiting to see if I had any questions.
I did. “Are we going to have to align with a coven?”
“Let’s not worry about that yet. We’ll just put in the paperwork, as if it’s a completely standard application of guardianship. I’ll get Opal to write a letter, and get a statement of support from Aiden Myers and Jenni Raymond to begin with.”
Christopher shifted in his chair. “Jenni isn’t pack.”
Ember waved her hand again. “I’m aware. And supporting you won’t expose her. We talked about it before she signed the affidavits I needed her to witness. Neither the individual packs nor the shapeshifter Assembly as a whole ever share information with the Convocation.” She patted a stack of paper to her right.
“Capri will dispute.”
“Yes. And then we’ll strengthen our argument.”
“How?” Christopher asked.
“We’ll make an appeal to the local coven.” Ember’s tone was even, but contemplative.
The clairvoyant frowned. “But Opal is a Sherwood.”
“Yes, well … the Godfreys will be your best bet. They are … more modern.”
“Power collectors?” I asked grimly.
She snorted — possibly the most undignified sound I’d ever heard from the lawyer. “Not in the way you mean.”
Magic glinted from Christopher’s eyes. “They have no need for power.”
Ember tapped her nose with the end of her pen. “Exactly.”
“No need of an amplifier and a clairvoyant?” I asked, amazed.
Ember smiled smugly. “No need. Vancouver has developed a reputation over the last few years as a safe haven.”
“Safe from what?” Christopher asked.
Ember returned to jotting down notes. “Anything.”
The clairvoyant glanced at me questioningly. But this was all news to me as well.
I phrased my next comment carefully. “We’d prefer to not be bound to any organization. It might, in fact, be impossible to bind us because of how we’re already bound to each other. Will that … scare the local coven?”
“I suspect they’ll require a home visit, to counter anything Capri asserts in her arguments. And they’ll want to check in with Opal herself. Perhaps invite her to yearly gatherings. Though I doubt attendance would be mandatory. But you will be hard pressed to keep all your secrets, Emma.”
I nodded. “I know.”
“They have … Pearl Godfrey is the head of the Convocation. And has been for many years. A witch doesn’t occupy that position without being able to hold it, undisputed.”
“But they …” I hesitated. “You said in your email that the Godfreys …” I struggled to articulate myself. “That they adhere to the light. Yes?”
“Obviously I can’t speak for the coven as a whole, but yes. But unless you’re planning on actively slaughtering townspeople and feeding them to your demon horde …” She paused as if looking for reassurance.
“We aren’t,” Christopher confirmed, amused. “Paisley prefers raw beef.”
An actual smile flitted over Ember’s face, but her levity was quickly smothered beneath a wall of professionalism. “We won’t rush into anything. Opal will return to the Academy, and we’ll go from there.”
Relief washed over me. I slumped back in my chair.
“And when Capri applies for guardianship as well?” Christopher asked, his tone remote. “When she tries to adopt Opal?”
Ember looked at him sharply.
The white of his magic rimmed his eyes.
I curled my fingers into fists, palms itching to grip the hilts of my blades. But decapitation really wouldn’t help the situation, or gain me any support from the witches Convocation.
“You’ve seen as much, clairvoyant?” Ember asked cautiously.
He nodded.
The lawyer sighed. “Well … that will be a hurdle.”
I stood up, knocking my chair away and breaking Ember’s sound barrier spell with an audible pop as I stepped away from the table.
“Socks …” Christopher pivoted, calling after me. “Strangling the witch won’t help.”
“Um, what?” Ember asked.
But I shook my head, striding down the hall and up the stairs. I just had to step away. I just needed a moment. And I really wanted to spend that moment with Opal.
Opal was gone. Granted, she had triggered a rune she’d obviously learned from Aiden to eavesdrop on us earlier, but there weren’t too many places that even a magically cloaked person could hide in the sparsely furnished house. I even checked the attic, discovering that the young witch had set her blanket fort up under the south peak of the roof.
She wasn’t there, though. The fact that Paisley was also nowhere to be found didn’t bode well either.
I grabbed thicker socks from my bedroom, swapping my thin sweater out for a thicker knit hoodie.
Capri was still in the fro
nt sitting room, reading a book. A bare-chested male model holding a broadsword decorated the cover. She didn’t look at me as I paused in the doorway. And I actually had to clamp my teeth down on my urge to sneer at her for letting Opal slip out of the house without noticing — again.
Calling her attention to the fact that the young witch had possibly run away wouldn’t have been worth the temporary satisfaction.
Aiden, Christopher, and Ember were in the kitchen. Christopher was resting against the counter beside the sink with his arms crossed, watching Ember as she cycled papers past Aiden for the sorcerer to sign.
He had brought his own pen, and smiled tightly at me when I strode into the kitchen. The expression didn’t lighten his eyes.
All of us were on edge. I shouldn’t have invited the witches in the first place, except … Opal. I had to. We had to suffer through all of this, for Opal.
“I’m heading to the Grant farm with Ember and Capri,” Aiden said, signing another of the papers Ember had set in front of him. “I believe I’ll be able to help them clean up the remainder of the residual.”
I’d forgotten all about the mess at the Grant farm.
“And date it, please,” the lawyer murmured.
Aiden obliged, jotting down the date next to his signature.
“Jenni went for supplies,” Christopher said. “More salt. And candles.”
“It should be fine,” Ember said, not looking up as she took the paper from Aiden and set it on a pile to her left. “A fairly basic cleaning spell. Capri just needs stable anchoring to cover that large an area. The rift appears to be closed. As you indicated.” She slipped a paper-clipped stack in front of Aiden next. “Read this one, please.”
“Of course,” he snapped testily.
Jenni and the witches must have come and gone from the Grant farm while Aiden and I were burning off my excess energy. I was too distracted. Missing things. And now Opal was gone. Though I would hopefully find her in the barn.
“I need to step out,” I said, already crossing toward the laundry room. “I need to … get something from the barn.”
Aiden frowned.
Christopher followed me.
I shoved my feet in my boots, then stuffed my arms in my coat, leaning close to whisper to the clairvoyant. “Opal.”
“Gone?”
I nodded.
He tilted his head, listening to his magic. Then he shook his head, not seeing anything of consequence.
That reassured me. “She’s probably in the barn, still wearing the rune.” I paused at the door. “Samantha?”
Christopher held up his cellphone. “Checked into the lodge.”
I sighed heavily.
“We’re going to help Zans, right?” he said.
“Of course we’re going to help her,” I snarled. “What choice do I have?”
“You always have a choice, Socks.”
“No.” I opened the door, letting in the chilled air. “That particular choice was taken from me a long time ago.” I glanced back in time to see pain flash across Christopher’s face. I forced myself to stop, to reassess what I’d said. “I choose you and Paisley every day.”
He nodded. “And Aiden. And hopefully Opal.”
“Yes.”
He brushed his fingers against my forearm, then fished a second phone out of his back pocket. “I want you to carry this.”
I groaned. “Am I leaving the property?”
“Yeah, you’re leaving the property.” He stepped away. “Say hi to Lani for me. Tell her to send me more options on the pickup truck. I want a red one. To match the roof.”
I snorted, shoving the cellphone in the pocket of my coat. So apparently Opal wasn’t in the barn. I exited, shutting the door behind me, then taking a moment to breathe in the chilly air. The snow was melting in earnest now, steadily dripping from the roof of the house.
I reached for Paisley’s magic, finding it all the way across the property, near the front gate. That confirmed that there was no point in checking the barn for Opal.
The young witch had threatened to run away. I had just thought she’d meant from Capri or from the Academy.
Paisley was waiting for me at the gate. Her dark blue-gray coat was stark against the snow, though the icy blanket had melted enough to slough off the fence. The main road was cleared, though damp. A thick accumulation of road salt had built up at the edges of the pavement.
Paisley dropped her mouth open in a wide, sharp-toothed smile. I slid my hand over her broad head, and she pressed her nose to the underside of my wrist.
“Thank you,” I said. “For being careful with the witches. You behaved better than I did.”
She chuffed, laughing at me.
I couldn’t see any tracks in the snow at the edge of the road, so if Opal had come this way, she’d been smart enough to walk on the pavement. But then, I wouldn’t have expected anything less of her. “Did Opal head into town?” I asked Paisley.
The demon dog yawned, stretched, then gave her big body a good shake.
I opened the gate and she pushed through ahead of me.
“I’m thankful you tracked her,” I said, pulling out the phone and texting Christopher, even though I had no doubt he knew about it the moment either I or Paisley stepped off the property. “And I’m glad you didn’t follow without me.”
Paisley grumbled, her shoulders rolling under a dense layer of dark-blue fur as she quickened her pace. The rune the young witch was using to sneak around might be strong enough to mask her magic from me, but I actually wasn’t particularly sensitive. Paisley obviously — and easily — had a bead on Opal though.
We walked along the road, moving as quickly as we could without drawing too much attention. I heard the car approaching before I saw it.
A red Jeep.
Jenni Raymond pulled up across the road from us, heading toward the house. She rolled down her window, out of uniform now.
“Opal?” she asked without preamble.
“Have you seen her?”
“Sorry, no. I had to clock out, went home to change, then picked up supplies. The town is still dead. If I’d crossed paths with her, I would have noticed.”
Paisley grumbled, strolling off ahead.
Jenni snorted, then smirked. “Apparently you don’t need my help though.”
I smiled back because it was expected of me. And because the shifter had been helpful with the witches and the mess at the Grant farm. More than she was obligated to be.
“I’m meeting Lani for lunch at the diner, as discussed. Have you asked the witches … or maybe just Ember? That Capri definitely isn’t the best spokesperson for magic and whatever.”
“Might not be the best timing,” I said.
Jenni cast her gaze out the windshield of the Jeep, then nodded. “Still, we’ll be at the diner. I can’t stand the stink at the Grant place, and the witches don’t need me to be there when they cast their cleaning spell. Call me if you need my help.”
“I will.”
She drove away. I hurried after Paisley.
Paisley led me steadily along the river’s edge, as close as we could walk without wading through rapidly melting snow. Her fix on Opal was so tight that the demon dog didn’t once pause to sniff or reorient herself. A few trucks slowed, giving us as much space as they could on the road as they passed us. I waved even though I didn’t recognize anyone specifically. Pretending to be friendly was worth not being splattered with slush and salt.
We crossed through the business section of Lake Cowichan, passing the street that led to the diner and Hannah Stewart’s thrift shop, heading toward the RCMP station.
As soon as we cleared the sweeping curve of the main street, I spotted a tiny figure on a bench situated at the edge of the river. The small park there held a tiny outdoor wooden stage. Its red paint was flaking. A dark-stone war memorial sat at the far edge of the grassy area. The wreaths that usually decorated its base were still covered in snow.
The RCMP station was
a block and a half to the east. Jenni would have driven past the park on her way home, so it must have just been timing that prevented her from seeing Opal sitting on the bench, gazing at the river.
Oddly, my step hitched as I recognized the young witch. Paisley prowled steadily through the snow, but I followed more slowly. Feeling nervous about conversing with a thirteen-year-old was ridiculous. Yet I was.
The demon dog skirted the bench until she was facing Opal. The young witch was sitting cross-legged, bundled in a puffy jacket of Christopher’s that he’d deemed too warm and therefore never wore.
Paisley eyed the witch.
“Hey,” she whispered.
The demon dog started grumbling, then pacing. Complaining, telling the young witch off.
“I’m sorry,” Opal cried. “I asked you to come with me.”
Paisley huffed, then resolutely turned her back on the witch. She stalked to the edge of the river, perching on a large ice-crusted rock and staring into the distance. The river was swollen and swift. A residential area spread toward the valley on the opposite shore, with the occasional set of stairs leading from backyards down into the water — for tubing and rafting in the summer months.
Opal slumped back on the bench, head bowed. A light breeze rustled her halo of dark curls.
I stepped around the bench, sitting down beside her. Silence stretched between us as we both gazed at the river and at the sulking demon dog. Warm from the walk into town, I unzipped my coat.
“I’m not running away,” Opal said, looking steadily out at the swollen, ice-edged river streaming past.
“Okay.”
“I just needed space.”
There was plenty of space on the property. “I scared you. With Samantha.”
She looked at me then, blinking. “No. I’ve seen you do much worse.”
She had. But I didn’t want those memories muddying, confusing the conversation we needed to have. So I kept my gaze on the river, marveling as I always did how deep and swiftly it ran through town. Like a dangerous beast lying in wait for a faltering footstep, ready to swallow its prey whole.
“I was scared for Paisley, and you, and Christopher.” Opal snuggled against me.
Mystics and Mental Blocks (Amplifier 3) Page 8