Witch-Blood

by Ash Fitzsimmons

  My father continued to look anywhere but at me, and the grand magus cleared his throat. “Children, maybe we could all try not to provoke each other, hmm?” he said, cocking an eyebrow at Toula. She continued to sip her coffee as if she hadn’t heard him, and he sighed softly. “Guess it was too much to ask for this not to be awkward. Aiden,” he continued, shifting on the couch to see around Toula, “now that you’re back with us, your parents have some thoughts about your education.”

  “Back?” I echoed. “No, I…this was just Val’s idea, as soon as he sends word—”

  “He hasn’t yet,” Toula interrupted, staring at my dad. “Which tells me that he was right to get you guys out of there.”

  “Fine,” I retorted, “and we’re out. So what do we do about him and Coileán?”

  The grand magus stalled while he refilled his cup from a silver carafe. “Aiden,” he said slowly, stirring in cream, “everything I’ve heard from you and Mr. Bolin suggests a coup. What would you like us to do about that?”

  “We can’t just leave them!”

  “We don’t have a choice.” Putting his cup on the table, he clasped his hands over his knee and watched me sputter. “You want me to pit the Arcanum against the single most powerful faerie in existence, in that realm, on behalf of your brother?”

  “And mine,” Toula muttered under her breath.

  “Son,” he continued, “that would be suicide. I’m sorry, but if Coileán’s not strong enough to take care of himself, there’s nothing I can do to help him, and I’m not going to sacrifice my people to make the attempt. You’ve got to understand what we’re up against.”

  I stared at him in shocked silence for a moment, then managed, “I’ve got to do something.”

  “And I don’t mean to be cruel, but what exactly can you do? Unless you’ve discovered magic in the last year—”

  “I’m in.” Toula drank once more, and her half-empty cup vanished. “Pretty sure Joey wouldn’t mind lending a hand. Georgie will help if we can get her fed.”

  “The dragon?” the grand magus asked, and my parents’ eyes widened. “Leftovers aren’t doing the trick?”

  “Carver’s working on it,” she replied, seemingly unfazed that the grand magus had figured out Georgie’s identity, and I wondered what she and the grand magus had discussed during the night. “Whatever I did didn’t change her appetite, and her internal combustion is back online. She’s starving.”

  “I’ll see what else can be done,” he muttered, frowning at his abandoned coffee. “But what does that make, Toula—you, two mundanes, and a juvenile dragon? Come on, you’re smarter than that.”

  She sat back and crossed her arms. “I bet Carver would chip in.”

  “Over my dead body,” Dad snapped.

  He looked poised to spring across the food and tackle her, but Toula didn’t flinch. “She’s twenty, isn’t she? I don’t think you get a vote.”

  “And I’m also putting my foot down,” said the grand magus before Dad could explode. “Assuming that Helen were foolish enough to go along with this, which she isn’t.”

  “You’re sure about that?”

  The grand magus eyed Toula guardedly. “I’m quite sure that she understands the futility of going against one of the Three. She told me that Coileán impressed that upon her in, shall we say, memorable fashion.”

  “Sure, sure, but you know as well as I do that if he goes,” she replied, tossing her head toward me, “she’s not going to be far behind.”

  “Which is why he’s not going anywhere,” the grand magus said as Dad purpled. “Now, Aiden, your parents and I discussed this…unpleasantness…early this morning. I think it would be in your best interest to remain within the silo for the time being. Let me explain,” he insisted, cutting me off before I could protest. “I’m not sending an unarmed teenager out to fend for himself if there’s a chance that Oberon’s coming after him. You’ll stay here, and the Arcanum will pay for some online courses for you. No sense in making you twiddle your thumbs, right?”

  “I…I mean…” I stuttered, looking at my parents for an explanation, but Mom’s lips were tight, and Dad just glared.

  “You’ll have your own apartment,” the grand magus continued. “Mr. Bolin may stay with you until he figures out his next move…and I suppose there’s the matter of the dragon to consider. Well, we certainly have units large enough for three. You’ll be comfortable.”

  Dad continued to glower, and Mom finally broke her silence. “We had thought a program back east might be…you know, easier,” she murmured, “but this is safest for now.”

  “Just as long as you don’t have to see him, right?” Toula interjected. “I mean, let’s not stop a good thing, Voss. It’s not like you’ve checked in on him lately.”

  Mom looked at the carpet and flushed, but Dad had reached his breaking point. “Who the hell do you think you are?” he yelled, going to his feet. “You are nothing! You’re lower than nothing, Pavli! How dare you even speak—”

  “That’s enough, Howard.” Toula and Dad turned to the grand magus, who remained seated but managed to convey his displeasure through sheer ocular force. “I know you’ve had your differences, but Toula works for me. Sit down.”

  Slowly, not taking his eyes off her, Dad lowered himself to the couch once more.

  “And Toula,” the grand magus continued, rubbing his forehead, “you know that’s unwarranted. How about a little sensitivity?”

  “If you’ll excuse me,” she replied, “I don’t think we’re seeing eye to eye on what’s warranted here. I’ve gotten to know your son,” she said, ignoring Dad to focus on Mom. “He’s a good kid, Rachel. Brilliant. Whatever else you did, you did something right.”

  Mom risked a quick glance up from the floor but dropped her eyes again almost immediately. I’d never seen her so cowed—but then again, I had no idea what had happened in my absence.

  “Now, he’s not going to say anything about it,” Toula pressed on, nodding toward me, “but how do you think it feels to be cut off from the only family you’ve ever known? I mean, sure, his sister’s been coming around”—Dad’s teeth clenched at that—“and his brother would do just about anything for him, but you’re his damn mother. Let Howard have his tantrum—you adopted that kid, you raised him, and he’s sitting here right now, Rachel, he is right here, and I don’t have to tell you that he’s scared to death. The least you can do is look him in the eye!”

  And to her credit, she did. Mom raised her head and looked at me as Dad stormed from the room, then whispered, “I’m sorry,” before following him out.

  The heavy door echoed as it slammed, and Toula let out a long breath. “Fucking hell, Aiden,” she muttered. “I tried.”

  I patted her arm, then looked around her at the grand magus. “Appreciate the offer, sir, but I won’t be here long. I’m going to find out what happened, and I’m going to get Coileán back, even if you’re not going to help me.”

  “That wasn’t an offer,” he replied, peering at me over his glasses. “You’re not leaving the silo.”

  “Excuse me?”

  His gaze didn’t waver. “Toula’s right—if you jump into the fire, Helen will try to pull you out. I’m not going to risk losing our next grand magus because you’re too young to think things through. So here’s how this works, Mr. Carver: you either play ball by my rules, or I’ll put you to sleep until this blows over. And if you think I can’t deliver on that,” he added, giving Toula a long, meaningful look, “then just try me.”

  Her face screwed up in surprise. “Greg—”

  “Don’t you ‘Greg’ me, missy. If the old boy can’t take care of himself, it’s not my job to rescue him.” He shook his head and picked up his cup from beside the largely untouched breakfast spread. “And I won’t have it said that I got our people killed on behalf of a damn faerie. Is that understood?”

  Toula’s muscles tightened, but outwardly, she kept her cool. “So…what I’m hearing is that, assuming you�
��re right and there’s been a coup, you’re happy dealing with Oberon?”

  “If it comes to that—”

  “Have you ever met Oberon?” she interrupted. “Because I have. He’s an asshole on a good day, Greg. Now, you and Colin have your differences, I get that, but just think about what you’re saying.”

  “I am,” he replied, wincing as he pushed himself off the couch. “And I know this isn’t easy for either of you to hear, but I’ve got to think about the greater good. If that sounds harsh, I’m sorry.” He tugged at his cardigan with his free hand and waited while we stood. “I’ll have an apartment set up for you in the next day or two,” he told me, “and until I discuss this with the Council, I’ll have to ask you to keep a low profile. Toula, do you think the dragon will eat offal? There should be some fresh in a few hours.”

  She looked at him, slowly blinking, then nodded. “Yeah. Couldn’t hurt to try. Come on, Aid.”

  CHAPTER 4

  * * *

  Joey was many things, but he was no coward, and our sudden incarceration grated on him. The apartment we were assigned was nice enough—a little smaller than my parents’ and furnished like a better Holiday Inn—and one of the grand magus’s younger assistants had hooked up a television for us, but we couldn’t escape the fact that we were stuck in a glorified windowless cell. Joey’s phone was useless: it couldn’t get a cell signal three stories underground, and the silo had yet to invest in Wi-Fi. More tellingly, despite the grand magus’s instruction that I was to begin online courses, the computer brought in on the second day of our captivity was a clunky desktop model roughly as old as I was, slow and lacking a modem. If the dearth of outside communication hadn’t been enough to impress on us the true nature of our situation, the guards stationed on our hall made it crystal clear.

  As Georgie sprawled on the couch, drinking gallons of beef smoothies and staring at the TV, Joey paced and thought aloud, scheming of ways we might break out. With one sword and one shapeshifted dragon in our arsenal, however, the ideas weren’t exactly forthcoming. If he were quick and lucky, he might be able to disable the security forces, though pitting two wizards against one guy with a pointy stick left the odds in the house’s favor. Assuming we could get by them and make it to the surface, we were in the middle of nowhere, miles from a real town, and the Arcanum’s vehicles were magically protected against theft. We’d have to hoof it out of there, but how far could we get on foot before the Arcanum dragged us back? I wasn’t going to set any land-speed records, and even if Joey had been a sprinter, there was still Georgie to consider. She’d taken her first wobbly steps before the grand magus ordered Helen back to Nashville, but Joey still piggybacked her to and from the canteen, the in-house dining option for wizards who didn’t cook. Not only was Georgie unsteady on her feet, but she was also growing more lethargic by the day. Despite the enormous quantities she was eating, she couldn’t satiate her appetite, and we kept finding her asleep on the couch with her straw still in her mouth.

  To our dismay, we discovered on our second morning in the silo that we couldn’t look to Toula for help. She’d slipped a scrawled note under our door, saying only that the grand magus had a problem elsewhere that needed her attention. Who knows? she’d concluded. Maybe he’ll come around if his little fires are put out. That was it—no forwarding address, no phone number, and no way to reach her. With Hel and Toula out of the silo, Joey and I were on our own, and we were outgunned.

  By our fourth day underground, Joey was climbing the walls. “It’s Sunday,” he griped over breakfast while our escort was busy flirting with one of the cooks on the other side of the canteen. “The least they can do is let me out for Mass.”

  “Security risk,” I muttered into my pancakes. “And good luck finding a Catholic church around here. Nothing but Pentecostals for miles.”

  He sighed and stabbed his eggs. “Heathens. Georgie, honey, try to eat.”

  She sat between us, listlessly pushing her sausage links around her plate with two fingers. My mouth hurts.

  “Did you bite your tongue?”

  No. It hurts here, she thought, and ran her hands down the sides of her lower jaw. And I broke a tooth.

  “On what? Open up, let me see,” he coaxed, and Georgie’s tongue prodded the offender. Joey reached inside and wiggled it around. “It’s not broken, just loose.”

  How do I fix it?

  “You don’t. It’ll come out on its own, and a bigger version will grow in.” Seeing Georgie’s confusion, he explained, “You do this all the time, you just don’t notice. I’ve found your teeth everywhere around the barn.”

  But that doesn’t feel like this, she protested. And I’ve only got one set right now…

  In her true form, Georgie had teeth like an overgrown shark: perfect for ripping, slightly curved to the rear to hold prey, and abundant. She had three series growing at any one time, fit together in her jaws like razor-sharp nesting dolls. When a tooth wore down or fell out, the one behind it moved into place in a matter of hours. The new wrinkle of a loose baby molar was just one more annoyance with her current body, and she rested her chin on the table and snorted her displeasure.

  “She’s been eating constantly since Thursday morning,” I told Joey. “Her jaw’s got to be sore from overuse.”

  “Yeah,” he said, rubbing Georgie’s back. “But good luck getting a doctor to look at her around—”

  “Dudley!”

  I jerked up to scan the room for the source of the shout and spotted Russell by the juice table. “Shit,” I muttered, sinking low in my chair, “aw, shit, what else is going to go wrong?”

  By then, Russell was striding across the canteen toward our table—unaccompanied, at least, but that was a small comfort. My former chief tormenter had grown his dark hair out into a short, sloppy ponytail, but otherwise, he was as I remembered: a little taller than me, a fair bit thicker, with deep-set brown eyes fringed by girlishly long lashes. Russell pulled his wand out of the back of his waistband as he approached and smiled. “Look who’s back! The Dudster! Did they kick you out of your nerd school already, Dudley? Came back to see your old friends?”

  The neighboring diners turned at the commotion, and Joey went to his feet. “Help you with something, kid?” he asked as his fingers closed around his greasy table knife.

  Russell glanced at him, then smirked at me. “Found yourself a boyfriend, huh? Someone to wipe your bottom for you since your babysitter ain’t here?”

  I saw the wand in his hand, but I managed to recover my spine. “The grand magus asked me to stick around for a few days,” I told him. “Joey here is assisting me. So unless you’d like to drag the grand magus into this, I suggest you beat it and let us eat.”

  He leaned over the table, no longer smiling. “And who’s going to make me, Dudley? You?”

  Is he bothering you?

  I looked at Georgie, who couldn’t follow the conversation, but gave no sign that I’d heard her. Turning back to Russell, I said, “I’ve done nothing to you, and the grand magus isn’t going to like it if I’m all cut up.”

  “Who said anything about cuts?”

  “Or broken,” I continued. “So do us all a favor and go away.”

  He ignored me. “Heard your dad threw you out. Sent you off to school so he wouldn’t have to look at the dud. I don’t like looking at you, either,” he murmured, leaning closer. “I don’t like your face, Dudley. And you know what happens to people I don’t like?”

  Russell never saw it coming. While he was focused on me, Joey vaulted onto the table, dull knife in hand, and caught Russell’s neck in the crook of his arm as he slid off the other side. “Drop the stick!” he bellowed, holding the knife in the hollow below Russell’s right ear. “Drop it, you little son of a bitch!”

  Joey had a solid chokehold on him, but Russell’s wand hand had a mind of its own. Before I could shout a warning, he raised his wand, pointed it behind him…

  …and began shrieking as both wand and hand burst
into flame.

  Joey pushed him away and turned to find Georgie standing beside me with her skinny arms folded. A puff of smoke escaped her nostrils, and she smiled as Russell plunged his hand into a pitcher of ice water and wailed.

  “That…is some precision breath control,” said Joey.

  I didn’t want to hit you, or I would have just gone for the head. Stupid wizards. She plopped back into her plastic chair and sighed at her plate. I’m still hungry. Can I put the rest of this in a shake?

  As Russell was led to the infirmary, our escort hustled us back to our apartment and locked the door from the outside. “So,” said Joey as the footsteps in the hall receded, “on a scale of hand slap to execution, how much trouble do you suppose we’re in?”

  “He’s a magus’s son,” I muttered, joining Georgie on the couch. “Magus Mulligan’s a bastard, but that family’s been on the Council for generations.”

  “Uh-huh. And the fact that your buddy started it?”

  “Irrelevant. Not like the grand magus has lifted a finger in the past—why start now?”

  Can I have a smoothie?

  “Sure, hon,” said Joey, heading for the little kitchen. “And if they decide not to kill us,” he called around the corner, “we’re going to need more protein powder soon.” He started assembling the blender, then paused and said, “No, you did nothing wrong. I appreciate it, really.”