The Secret Coin (Accessory to Magic Book 3)

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The Secret Coin (Accessory to Magic Book 3) Page 18

by Kathrin Hutson


  Great. Jessica had to be better and faster and stronger than the Matahg who’d held her under his thumb for five years before he’d sold her off to the MJC just to keep his own nose clean. At least until she successfully undid the Shattering. Then, supposedly, that would take care of the rest for her.

  ‘Definitely. Doesn’t matter if he was literally the only guy you couldn’t beat when you were at full power. There’s no undoing the…undoing.’

  “Sounds good to me. Now we just need to figure out exactly when and where we’ll be having one more meeting with the world’s most traitorous boss ever.”

  ‘Correction. When and where you’ll be meeting him. I can’t leave. I mean, I can, technically, but not the way that would actually be helpful to you. Mostly.’

  She shook her head and tried to shake out the weirdness of that statement. “Fine. So I’ll have to do this alone then. Without your help.”

  ‘Without my help, yeah. For the most part.’

  The shower knobs squeaked again, and the rush of water pattered out into the constant drip that would continue for another seven minutes before the shower line completely emptied. Jessica only knew because she’d timed it during her first week here, when everything about the bank had driven her up the wall instead of only half of it.

  The bank hummed in her mind. ‘But maybe not completely alone…’

  Jessica pushed herself up on the couch and drew her legs in beneath her to cross them. Leandras had said he wanted to witness Mickey’s ultimate demise. Maybe he’d actually come in useful for that—if he promised not to intervene and could actually follow through with that promise. If there was some way to draw Mickey in nice and close before the Matahg ever knew what was coming for him. If Leandras didn’t do something stupid in an attempt to protect Jessica and ended up killing her old boss first. Then they’d be back at square one.

  ‘That’s a lot of ifs.’

  “Not an unusually high number for us, though,” she whispered, staring at the door as the shower curtain clinked aside and Leandras’ wet feet squeaked on the bathroom floor.

  ‘True. Looks like you’ll just have to put it all out on the table for him, then, right? I mean, he is the only one who can beat Mickey into submission.’

  “Right. Including you.”

  ‘Well yeah. But I could have. If you’d had all your magic.’

  “We’re getting there, okay? Just bear with me.”

  ‘Like I have anything else to do.’

  Leandras still hummed a strangely tuneless something as he went about the rest of his business in her bathroom. When he jerked open the door without warning—fully clothed again with his damp hair slicked back and smelling like Jessica’s ginger-rose shampoo—she tried to look casual about having literally waited for him the whole time without any kind of diversion. But the steep angle of her arm hanging awkwardly over the hard and uncomfortable back of the couch didn’t exactly present the picture of laid-back nonchalance she was going for.

  Clearing her throat, Jessica jerked her arm away from the back of the couch and stood. “We need to talk.”

  “I agree.” Leandras calmly finished buttoning up his dress shirt but left the top three buttons undone. The glimmer of another purple-glowing tattoo was visible right below the curve of his left collarbone. “As much as I appreciate the aid you’ve given me over the last five days, I’ve clearly overstayed my welcome.”

  “That’s…not what I was going for, but okay.”

  The fae glanced sharply up at her and narrowed his eyes. “Unless, of course, I haven’t.”

  “Haven’t what?”

  “Overstayed my welcome.” He steadied himself with a hand against the bathroom’s doorframe and lifted one foot to readjust the thin sock beneath his dress shoe. “The binding is complete, so naturally, you have every right to rescind your offer of shelter. I’ll find somewhere else to hole up for the time being.”

  “My offer of…whatever.” Jessica blinked quickly and shook her head. “No, I mean we need to talk about what happens next. If I can actually trust you, then I think you—”

  “Though it would be more convenient for both of us if I stayed.”

  Jesus, was he really this thick-headed, or did he just like ignoring her?

  “This next phase of the reckoning already has a short timeframe,” he continued, running a hand through his damp hair again. “And I’m afraid we’ve already expended the majority of it in our deadlock truce. We don’t have much time.”

  “So everyone keeps telling me.” She tossed her hands in the air and let them slap back down against her thighs. “Any idea how long not much is?”

  The fae stopped scanning her bedroom and met her gaze head-on. “Two days.”

  ‘What?’ the bank shouted.

  “What?” Jessica scowled at the fae no longer sworn by the binding but still hanging around like he was about to move in and start calling Winthrop & Dirledge his home.

  ‘Over my rotting support beams.’

  Yeah, I’m right there with you.

  Leandras tugged down the ends of his shirtsleeves with a crisp jerk and got busy buttoning up the cuffs. “I do believe I said it in English, didn’t I?”

  She stepped back along the side of the couch and cocked her head. “You’re coming on a little strong there.”

  “And you’re acting like we haven’t just spent five days holding our breath until we can leave this bank and do what has to be done.”

  “Okay.” With a deep breath, Jessica lifted both hands in surrender. “Let’s start over.”

  “I’d rather move forward, if it’s all the same to you.”

  “Did you hit your head in the shower? Is that why you’re acting like a complete asshole again?”

  “No.” Readjusting the open collar of his shirt, the fae dipped his head and grimaced. “But I apologize.”

  She glanced around the room, did a double-take of the fae trying to cool his jets, and frowned. “Oh.”

  “There’s enough at stake without me running the risk of pushing you away. That isn’t my intention.” The fae seemed unable to look her in the eye. “I’m merely…”

  “Stubborn? Impossible to deal with? Way too full of yourself?” The second she said it, she wondered if she’d taken it too far. Leandras was apologizing, and here she was, making a giant joke out of the whole thing because authenticity and what sounded like a fairly genuine attempt to smooth things over made her itchy.

  Jessica scratched the back of her head, then immediately jerked her hand down and folded her arms.

  The fae slowly looked up at her and hummed, one corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. “We are still discussing my qualities, are we not?”

  A sharp laugh of relief escaped her. “It could go either way at this point.”

  “Well at the very least, we can admit to sharing a fondness of self-deprecating humor.” Leandras gestured toward the couch. “May I?”

  “Sure.”

  He slowly sat, and only when he looked up at her in expectation did she finally give in and sit beside him.

  ‘I thought you were trying to get him out of your room.’

  Yeah, well if this next chat of ours gets him on my team so we both get what we want, I can deal.

  “So.” Leandras cleared his throat. “You suggested we start over.”

  “Right. First, just…tell me what happens if the next two days go by and we don’t move to reckoning phase number two. Please.”

  He didn’t hesitate for a second. “The timer that started when I withdrew the sigil coin runs out entirely. The second phase of the reckoning will never occur, and every magical who’s offered you a proposal for first rights will be turned away empty-handed.”

  “But that was basically the plan anyway.” Jessica leaned away from him and crossed one leg over the other, slinging her arm over the armrest. “No one’s getting through that door.”

  “Except for you and I, of course. Should you decide to trust me and act on my ad
vice.”

  Oh, sure. They were bringing it all back down to Jessica and her justifiable trust issues. Peachy.

  “Okay, let’s just say for the sake of playing devil’s advocate and checking all the boxes that I don’t trust you. We don’t go to phase two with this thing. There’s no first rights. The Gateway stays closed. What happens?”

  “Every magical organization in this world will hear of it.” Leandras raised an eyebrow, looking exactly like someone who was considering the possibilities only because they knew it was nothing more than hypothetical. “Those still behind the Gateway will be condemned to an agonizing fate in Xahar’áhash while that world burns and the Dalu’Rázj consumes enough of it to fuel his own power. Meaning the Gateway will eventually open, but not from this side. And not by you.”

  “So…what? There’s no other way for a Guardian to start the reckoning again? Get the ball rolling one more time when it’s safe?”

  “Oh, I’m sure there is. But you and I would be dead before the opportunity ever arose.”

  Jessica snorted. “Oh, come on. You don’t know that—”

  “I do.” The fae swallowed as he mirrored her posture, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back against the opposite armrest. “Because it’s happened before.”

  There was no hint of a smile on his face, no flash behind his eyes that usually meant he was screwing with her. Jessica’s disbelieving smirk vanished. “You’re serious.”

  “Quite serious.”

  “Okay, but if a Guardian already tried to open the Gateway and failed, by your own logic, you’d already be dead.”

  “Except for the fact that I was not the bearer of this responsibility at that time.” Leandras closed his eyes briefly, and his upper lip flickered into a short-lived grimace. “Tabitha’s predecessor received the mantel of Guardian at the same time I was appointed to my current task.”

  “Which is to get that door open.”

  It wasn’t exactly a question, but the fae dipped his head in acknowledgment all the same. “Among other things, but that one takes the most precedence, yes.”

  “So…what? Someone tried to open the thing, the Guardian before Tabitha did his job, and they both died because they somehow screwed up and didn’t have enough time to fix it?”

  “No, Jessica. The Guardian before Tabitha refused to do his job. And my predecessor couldn’t stomach doing what was required of him.”

  “Why didn’t Tabitha do it?”

  Leandras’ eye twitched as he held her gaze, and he really didn’t look happy about having to answer that question. “She also refused.”

  “Oh, great. So I’m definitely the only one breaking the rules—”

  “The timing was never optimal before now,” he growled. “And the rules have changed. If I haven’t managed to convince you of that in the last five days, then we’ve both failed. Perhaps it’s time to abandon our posts, then, hmm?”

  ‘Wow. Talk about a sore subject.’

  Yeah, I get it.

  “Okay. Fine.” Jessica swiped her hands through the air. “Now we have the hypothetical worst-case scenario out of the way.”

  “I’m glad to hear you call it that.”

  “Honestly, everything’s hypothetical right now. I’m just weighing my options.” She ran a hand through her hair and tried to figure out how to best phrase what she wanted to know next. “Just bear with me.”

  “As long as it doesn’t take two days, I’m happy to accommodate.”

  The urge to roll her eyes was almost too strong to ignore, but not quite. Jessica took a deep breath and nodded. “Say I do trust you. For as much as I can without completely throwing out everything I know about…well, just anything. What happens next?”

  Leandras nodded. “The second phase of the reckoning is predicated upon a certain spell.”

  “Of course it is. What do we have to do?”

  “Gather the required reagents. It’s a rather complicated incantation with a list of necessary items for transmuting that power into the precise frequencies of—”

  “Leandras, I know how spells work. Even complicated ones.”

  He stared at her, blinked once, and dipped his head with a quick jerk, like it went against everything he believed in to defer to whatever expertise Jessica might or might not have had. “Of course.”

  “So what exactly would we have to do to get all these reagents and cast the damn spell?”

  “Conscript the aid of a number of other magicals loyal to our cause, for one.”

  “Wait, what?”

  His chuckle was dark and weighed down by his own obvious distaste. “Has it not occurred to you that entire organizations and not single entities have come forward in one way or another to get what they want from you? Either the coin or the first rights, which obviously can’t be granted without the coin, but I imagine they’re merely attempting to cover all their bases.”

  Well no, actually. It hadn’t occurred to her.

  ‘Me neither. Huh.’ The bank tsked. ‘Hey, ask him why, will ya? This is taking way too long.’

  Jessica pursed her lips, then muttered through clenched teeth, “Honestly, I’ve been a little too busy to pick apart the nuances. But thanks for enlightening me.”

  The fae ignored her sarcasm. “This isn’t a spell that can be cast in a dusty closet or a second-story bedroom by one, two, or even three magicals, Jessica. It requires at least two dozen. Or perhaps fewer, if one or two practitioners are particularly skilled and can carry the extra weight. So in the next two days, hypothetically, we would gather the reagents and the magicals willing to undertake this endeavor with us. We would cast the spell. And the second stage of the reckoning would be complete.”

  “Opening up for first rights,” she muttered, all the pieces coming together in her head. “And giving the right magicals the chance to cross over before everything goes to shit.”

  “That’s one way of putting it, I suppose.” Leandras licked his lips, like he was trying to hold back another emotional explosion as he leaned slightly toward her on the couch. The scent of ozone rising from him was dampened by the smell of her shampoo and almost made Jessica smirk. “So now that we’ve dispensed with the hypothetical discussion, I would like to return to reality and ask what exactly you intend to do over the next two days.”

  “Yeah, thanks for humoring me.” She ran a hand through her hair again and huffed out a wry laugh. “I’m guessing there are at least two dozen of these Laenmúr guys you mentioned taking me to meet.”

  “At least, yes.”

  “And none of them want the same thing as the Requiem and Jensen and the Hakali Hand?”

  Leandras spread his arms in concession. “We all want the same thing. To open the Gateway. But I assure you, the faction of Laenmúr has no interest in seeing the Dalu’Rázj repeat his efforts in this world. I cannot say the same for the organizations you mentioned and whoever else may be vying for a chance to return through that portal.”

  Jessica nodded, staring at the rug in front of the couch.

  Okay. Well at least they were finally getting some clarity on the difference between the good guys and the bad guys. Not like she entirely trusted the good guys were a hundred percent good, but there was a decent chance they were better than any of the assholes who’d tried and failed to kill her.

  ‘Or we can just go with you and I being the only good guys, and everyone else is just a gray area that can be rearranged.’

  I’m pretty sure we’ve already been trying that this whole time. And look how well that worked out.

  ‘Hey, listen to you. Finally starting to come around, huh?’

  Maybe.

  “If I do this with you,” she said slowly, “going out to find the reagents for this spell and taking them to these Laenmúr magicals, I can’t help you kick off the second phase without another spell of my own.”

  The fae nodded when she looked up at him.

  Yeah, he understood exactly what she was getting at here.

&
nbsp; “It’ll have to happen all at once.” She shrugged, hating to admit this next part. But she’d already learned the hard way—more than once—that she really couldn’t do everything on her own. “And you’re the only magical I know who can handle the Matahg.”

  Leandras’ eyes lit up with another silver flash, and he gave her what might have been his first genuine smile since they’d met. “I believe I may be able to accommodate.”

  “Right, because he recognized you before he scurried out of here. Laen’aroth.”

  The fae’s smile dimmed. “That name means many things, Jessica. But none of those meanings will stand in our way. If I summon the one you intend to bear the cost of returning the rest of your magic, he will know nothing more than that I wish to meet with him.”

  “And you have to hold him off while I do the rest.” Jessica wasn’t exactly sure what the rest of the spell to undo the Shattering entailed, but she didn’t need to know in this moment. What she needed to know was that she could trust Leandras to do his part, just like he hoped he could trust her to do hers.

  ‘Don’t worry, witch. I’ll make sure you have everything you need.’

  “I see no problem with that arrangement.” Leandras stood and offered her his hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally be exchanging the right information with a Guardian who’s willing to step up to her duties. With you, Jessica.”

  Uh-huh. Flattery wouldn’t get him anywhere at this point. Jessica had nothing to be flattered by.

  She stood on her own, then took his outstretched hand. Their shared grip was firm, and as the centuries-old fae from a dying world gazed intently at her, she got the distinct impression that she’d just entered another binding agreement. It wasn’t magically induced, and it certainly didn’t cover nearly as many detailed terms as the actual binding they’d sworn. But she was bound by her word just the same.

  She tightened her grip on his long, slender fingers. “Don’t make me regret this.”

 

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