Witch-Blood

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Witch-Blood Page 12

by Ash Fitzsimmons


  In any case, the folks who passed by our island had to have been mundanes, as Rufus’s enormous, yet surprisingly neat, enchantment and our resort-quality digs drew no attention. His camouflage was almost too good, in fact, as our messenger nearly missed us when she came ashore Thursday morning.

  Shortly after dawn, as we were demolishing another of Rufus’s buffet breakfasts—I don’t know about the others, but indolence in a tropical paradise gave me an appetite—a willowy young woman walked out of the surf like a naked, bedraggled Venus. She padded a few feet up the beach, looked around with a little scowl, then leaned to the side and wrung out her long black hair.

  Catching sight of her, Joey jumped out of his chair, goggling like he was seeing a ghost, then ran down to the shore to intercept her. “Ilunna!” he called, waving to get her attention. “Ilunna, over here!”

  The naked woman—Ilunna, I gathered—straightened and looked around in confusion until Joey ran through the barrier of the enchantment. She stumbled back in shock—seeing someone appear from thin air might reasonably make you do that—and he caught her before she tripped. “Hello, again,” he said in Fae as he steadied her. “Been a while—”

  Having regained her balance, Ilunna grabbed Joey’s face and went in for a passionate kiss. As Joey flailed, Rufus chuckled in the chair beside me, and Georgie frowned at the scene. Are they going to mate? she asked us, turning for an explanation.

  “Judging by that reunion, I’m guessing they already have,” said Rufus. “I mean, I’d heard that the merrow were…uh…physical…”

  “I’m guessing that’s the legendary Merrow Chick,” I offered. “And yeah.”

  Rufus laughed again as we watched Joey extricate himself from the damp embrace. “Ilunna,” Joey gasped, “it’s nice to see you, too, but I’ve got a girlfriend, I can’t—”

  “Can’t what?” she replied, bemused. “And you learned to speak properly! Silly boy, when did that happen?”

  “Can’t…that.” He looked back up the beach and frantically beckoned for us to join them, and Ilunna beamed as we appeared from behind the invisible wall. “Uh…Ilunna, this is Rufus, Aiden, Georgie…”

  If Joey had been planning on proper introductions, Ilunna saw no need for the formality. Rufus stood closest to her, and so he was the second of us to get a kiss—and the first, I couldn’t help noticing, to return the gesture with any skill. Both were slightly flushed as they separated, and without further warning, Ilunna’s open mouth was pressed against mine. Being sixteen and less than inexperienced, I was too startled to attempt any of the techniques I’d only read about, and if Ilunna was expecting to find something with her gently probing tongue, she came away only with a hint of the bacon I’d just eaten. Still, she smiled when she released me, and I gazed after her in a reverie as she approached Georgie.

  But Georgie was having none of it. Forget it, she thought, holding her hands in front of her face. Ew. No.

  Ilunna paused, thrown in her rhythm, and cocked her head. “Have I offended?”

  “Not at all,” said Rufus, who had somehow managed to hook his arm around her waist while I was distracted. “The little one is actually a dragon. Now…Ilunna, was it?” he asked, leading her up the beach. “May I offer you some refreshments?”

  As they wandered toward the barrier and disappeared, Joey stepped close to me and murmured, “All right there?”

  “Uh…”

  He patted my back. “First real kiss?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “With tongue, no less.”

  “Yeah,” I mumbled, still tasting the salt of her lips on mine.

  “She’s too old for you,” he said quietly. “About Helen’s age.” I gave him a sharp look, and he held up his hands in placation. “I’m just telling you, that’s all. And keep in mind that this isn’t her default mode,” he added, lowering his voice to a nearly inaudible level. “Merrow, remember?”

  I stared at him steadily, saying nothing, and Joey finally rolled his eyes. “Okay, I’m not going to lie and say it was unpleasant, but once you know what merrow really look like…more teeth, less, uh…that…”

  Rufus stepped back through the bubble, interrupting Joey’s clumsy attempt at imparting the wisdom of experience. “We’re waiting, kids. Is something wrong?” he asked, then caught sight of my expression and grinned. “Oh, Aiden,” he said, shaking his head, “no. She’s not just out of your league—she’s not playing the same sport.”

  Coileán had told me about the free-loving tendencies of the merrow, but I had never seen someone so comfortable in her own skin as Ilunna was on the beach. She lounged in a wooden Adirondack with her legs crossed, swinging one foot to an unheard rhythm, and sipped from the oversized goblet Rufus had given her. The glass’s contents were strongly pink, its wide rim crusted with sugar and adorned with a hibiscus blossom, and I wondered just how many college bars he’d had to frequent to come up with that concoction.

  The scene looked like a spring break fantasy come to life, complete with an overly affectionate coed, but Ilunna quickly revealed the brains behind the window dressing.

  “Father said you needed a spy,” she told me, grinning as she brushed her salt-stiffened hair from her face. “So I presented myself to the king. A goodwill ambassador, you understand.”

  I could readily imagine how much goodwill Ilunna would generate by walking into a room. “Did you see my brother?”

  She shook her head and sipped her drink. “No, I did not. Father told me where I would find him—the path from the shore to the old queen’s palace is clear enough, if long,” she added, absently rubbing her foot. “He wasn’t there. The old king was.”

  The lovely, warm memory of Ilunna’s lips faded, and I felt sick all over again. “How, uh…I mean, what did you…”

  Ilunna waited for a moment while I fumbled for the words, then put her drink aside and clasped her hands in her lap. “I don’t know the courts on sight,” she explained softly, “and I can’t relate the names of all those I saw. You’ll forgive me for saying this, but the lot of you look very much alike.”

  I let it slide. “But you saw Oberon? Did you speak to him?”

  “Of course. He was gracious—his people showed me about the upper world and gave me comfortable quarters. Confusing, but comfortable,” she muttered. “I dined at his table for two days, but he seemed uninterested in physical pleasures,” she added with a little frown. “Please be honest—is this form unpleasant to you? If something is amiss, I’d rather know.”

  I could only gawk, but Joey jumped in to fill the silence. “You’re gorgeous,” he said, “and if Oberon wasn’t, um…receptive, then he’s probably got something on his mind.”

  She beamed at him, momentarily making me forget my troubles. “Oh, good. Mother says upper-worlders are odd about joining, so I didn’t know if his reaction was normal.”

  Joey glanced at me, then at Rufus, and asked her, “His reaction to…what?”

  “Well,” said Ilunna with nonchalance, “I’ve found that people are usually more willing to talk after joining, so I tried to join with him after our first meal. He excused himself, and I thought perhaps I had caused offense.”

  Beside me, Joey muttered in English, “Do not say anything.”

  “If he chose not to join with you,” said Rufus, sliding into the breach, “then he’s a blind fool. But you say he’s living in Titania’s palace?”

  “Yes, exactly,” she replied. “I saw nothing of Coileán—I never even heard his name. The mood was…festive, I suppose. So I learned what I could, and here I am.” She spread her hands, retrieved her drink, and tucked the floral garnish behind her ear.

  “How about the security situation?” asked Joey. “Were there many guards?”

  She nodded. “Everywhere. I was never alone with Oberon.” Looking around the fire pit at the four of us, she said, “Truly, I don’t know what’s become of Coileán, but I can tell you that Oberon is in Faerie.”

  “Any sign of Valerius?”
I asked, but Ilunna only shrugged.

  “I was never introduced to anyone of that name, so I’m afraid I have nothing to offer you. And that’s all I can do—Father has forbidden me to go back there,” she continued apologetically. “Court conflicts are dangerous things, you understand.”

  “Yes, and thank you. Believe me,” I muttered, “you’ve done more than the Arcanum would.”

  “So my father’s debt is repaid?” I nodded, and her shoulders relaxed. “Good. I had hoped not to disappoint.” She glanced around again, and her dark eyes settled on Georgie. “Forgive me if this is rude, but did I hear you were a dragon?”

  Georgie snorted and bit into a cold strip of bacon. Why, need something roasted?

  Ilunna seemed unfazed by the telepathy—but then again, I had no real idea of how the merrow communicated when they were underwater. “No, I just didn’t realize you could shapeshift.”

  We can’t.

  “Ensorcelled,” Joey explained.

  “Ah. That can’t be an easy transition. I mean,” she continued, seeing Georgie’s face work, “mine is difficult enough—balancing on these silly things takes practice.” She raised her foot and wiggled her sandy toes.

  Georgie’s crimson eyes widened. YES. And this, she thought, tugging at her hair with her bacon-free hand. What’s the purpose? It doesn’t warm, and it’s one more thing to be washed. And all the bathing… She shook her head and sighed. And the clothing. I just don’t understand.

  Ilunna frowned in confusion. “Why wear it if it bothers you? I don’t see the point, either.”

  At that, Georgie leaned forward and jabbed her finger at Joey. You see? Do you hear that? she thought excitedly.

  “I did,” he replied, rubbing his face, “and I’m telling you that walking around in the buff isn’t subtle.”

  The merrow shrugged. “Subtle or not, it works for me.”

  I can’t be sure, but I think I heard Rufus whisper, “Thank you.”

  As Ilunna was pleased to see Joey again, she was thrown when he explained that getting physically reacquainted was out of the question. “It’s not that I don’t like you,” he hurriedly explained in the face of her befuddlement, “and last time was…uh…great, but I have a girlfriend now.” This garnered only a blank look, and he added, “Who is a wizard. And who would be very upset if I cheated on her.”

  “It’s an upper-world thing,” Rufus explained, slipping into their twosome at just the opportune moment. “Alas, the boy is spoken for. If you just wanted a little amusement, however…”

  Ilunna gave him a once-over, cocked her head, and grinned, and I watched as the two of them disappeared into the pavilion together.

  When the curtain dropped behind them, Joey perched on the arm of my chair and muttered, “Unbelievable.”

  “He is single,” I said.

  “And she’s, like, twenty.”

  I shrugged. “Faeries, man.”

  “You’re telling me.” He paused, considered my expression, and punched me in the shoulder. “Dude, no, you weren’t going to get any of that action. I don’t care if she volunteered.”

  “Look,” I protested, “just because you’re attached—”

  “I promised Helen I’d take care of you. That means no merrow until you’re legal. Deal with it.”

  “Killjoy.”

  “The term you’re looking for is ‘responsible adult,’” he replied, and downed the remainder of Ilunna’s pink concoction while we watched the sea and waited for the party to end without us.

  To his credit, Rufus only stared wistfully at Ilunna’s disappearing wake for ten minutes or so before getting his head back in the game. “All right,” he said once the other three of us could reenter the bedroom, “what’s our next move? Coileán’s MIA, we have no data on Valerius, and it sounds like Oberon’s made himself at home. Plan? Want to head up to Alaska and coordinate? We can’t stay here forever,” he added. “The Arcanum’s going to wise up eventually and realize the danger is past.”

  Joey met my eyes and nodded, and I looked back at Rufus. “We’re going over. Today, if possible.”

  “Today?” He grimaced and sank onto his bed. “You did hear Ilunna say the place was guarded, yes?”

  “Which is why we need you to let us into the backcountry,” I said. “Let’s get some camping gear together and try to sneak in.”

  “Aiden,” he said, rubbing his closed eyes, “you know that’s not safe—”

  “Nothing is safe! There isn’t a safe option! What do you want me to do,” I asked, “wait around and hope the Arcanum doesn’t get me? Hole up in your parents’ guest room? Wait for Toula to surface? Hope Coileán spontaneously appears and figures this out?”

  “I’m just saying that it isn’t safe. I never said I wouldn’t help you…though it would just be the two of you, you know.”

  “Understood.”

  No, not understood. Georgie sat up and shook her head. I’m going with them.

  Joey dodged her glances for a moment, then sighed and murmured, “Sweetie, you can’t. Aiden and I can stay low, but…I mean, we can’t hide you. You’re huge.”

  She looked at him incredulously. How much smaller do you want me to be?

  “The problem,” Rufus explained, “is that the spell on you now will break as soon as you enter Faerie, and neither of those two can redo it.”

  Georgie stared at us, shocked and momentarily confounded, and her eyes began to well. I’m not leaving you, Joey, she insisted.

  He stood and crossed to her bed, then sat beside her and pulled her against his chest. “It’s just for a little while,” he soothed. “I’m going to keep you safe. You’ll go with Rufus, and he’ll take you to Helen…right?” he asked, glancing over the top of her head.

  “Exactly,” said Rufus. “You’ll stay with my parents. Mother does a lovely whole roast chicken—”

  But her sniffles had turned into full sobs by then, and Joey rocked her while she cried. I could feel the fear in her unguarded thoughts, ringing in my head like the buzz of a muted television in the next room, but I had no comfort to give her. As Georgie cried, Rufus and I rose and left her with Joey on the off-chance that he’d know what to say.

  Once outside the tent, Rufus shoved his hands in his pockets and contemplated the tranquil sea. “It might be safest if you used a permanent gate,” he murmured. “If the realm’s keeping an eye on things, you might get through under its radar if I don’t punch extra holes in the world.”

  I shaded my eyes against the late-morning sun. “You know where to find one?”

  “Actually, yes. There’s just one tiny problem.”

  “Which is?”

  Rufus slowly exhaled. “The gate’s in Glastonbury.”

  I grew up in the Arcanum’s heart, but the middle of nowhere, Montana, hadn’t always been the center of the magical world. The organization was born from a prolonged series of hostile takeovers, and for most of its existence, its headquarters moved around Europe among a set of castles owned by the oldest and most prestigious of wizard families. Sure, it wasn’t an egalitarian system, but it worked well until the nineteenth century, when enough wizards looked around, saw the direction the rest of the world was heading, and decided that leadership should be based at least nominally on merit. The first new-blood grand magus set up a system of installations, each overseen by a magus and his subordinates, where wizards could congregate and their children could be educated in spellcraft. Those installation heads were ultimately responsible to the grand magus and his local magi, the Inner Council, who governed from a castle in Glastonbury for a hundred years until World War I convinced the Arcanum to consider relocation once again.

  In the mid-1960s, the grand magus saw the potential in the giant missile silos being built across the American West, assembled a team to hex one in Montana, and managed to buy the property for a song. When he moved in, he announced that the silo would henceforth be known as “Arcanum 1,” and much of the rest of the American and Canadian wizard comm
unity followed him underground. The other installations were now officially designated Arcanum 2 through 7. Some were fairly unpopular—not many wizards wanted to live in Mongolia—but Arcanum 2, the magically camouflaged castle hidden to the southwest of the Glastonbury Tor, was always a bustling community.

  I’d never been to Glastonbury. Hel had, however—the grand magus saw to it that she went on a slew of field trips—and she’d come home with stories about the place. Disguised as a patch of trees and a field, and protected by wards that subtly discouraged trespassing, the castle was everything a wizard could want: properly atmospheric, spacious, and, wonder of wonders, above ground. True, living next to a bunch of hippies on a perpetual quest for the Holy Grail could be somewhat grating, but as a kid, I would have given my right arm for a study-abroad program at Arc 2.

  Then again, with the Arcanum’s hit squads after me, the thought of an English vacation no longer seemed quite so exciting.

  Waiting for sundown in Florida would put us in Glastonbury in the middle of the night, the safest time to go sneaking around. Still, the thought of popping over blind didn’t sit well with us, and not only because I couldn’t say exactly where Arcanum 2 was located. I couldn’t just call Hel and ask for pointers—she’d have thrown a fit had she known what Joey and I intended to do—but Rufus had a backup source who knew how to keep a secret, even if she wasn’t gung-ho for our plan.

  “You’re idiots, you know that?” said Vivi, her voice made tinny by Rufus’s speakerphone. “This is grade-A idiocy. Hey, want me to call ahead? Make reservations at the castle for you? Have an escort waiting?”

 

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