by K. M. Shea
“Here.” Perfect Secretary passed the thick sheets of paper over. All of them had wax seals pressed into the bottom of the paper, stamped with the House’s coat of arms.
Great Aunt Marraine fixed her glasses, then snorted. “Rothchild? They dare to ask us for an alliance? Hah!” She ripped the offer into thin shreds, then pulled out an envelope from her massive hand bag and put the ripped paper in the envelope. “We’ll have to stop at a post box on our way home, Adept.” She slapped a stamp on the envelope and scrawled out the address of House Rothchild.
I rubbed the back of my neck and smiled. “Sure! Sounds great to me!”
House Rothchild was forever on my black list for helping Mason, so being petty like this was a huge morale boost. (Plus, I figured it wasn’t as awful as what I wanted to do, which was have a good slug out with their traitorous Adept, who supposedly had once been a friend of my parents!)
“Let’s see…who else? House Nells, House Fischer—no, nope.” Great Aunt Marraine casually tossed the offers aside.
I folded up my cloth bag, only half listening as she continued.
“House Schnider, House Luna…”
“Wait, House Luna?” I asked.
Great Aunt Marraine retrieved the paper she had cast aside. “It seems so, yes. It’s an official offer, but since Adept Luna is currently serving on the Wizard Council she requests that the alliance not start until January of next year, when her term ends.”
Adept Luna supported my request to make some laws about House inheritance, and when I had gone before the Wizard Council to request that they officially name me as Adept—since I had been the Heir, even though I’d been turned out of the House by Mason—she was one of four wizards who had sided with me.
“Let’s accept that one.”
“Splendid!” Great Aunt Marraine swiped the offer. She pulled a manila filing folder from her purse and slipped the offer in it before returning her attention to the other offers, collecting them in a pile. She gave Mrs. Claus and Perfect Secretary a beaming smile. “As for all of these scallywags, you can tell them to go to—”
“Adept Medeis!”
Faintly recognizing the voice, I turned around. “Elite Bellus, good morning!”
Whispered murmurs of “Elite Bellus!” wafted through the office as the staffers stood and smiled at the Elite.
The Elite was the most powerful wizard in our region. He served on the Regional Committee of Magic, and frequently communicated with the Wizard Council—although he was officially banned from taking part in local politics as a check to his power, which is why he had been unable to help me.
He was a clean-cut man with a well-groomed goatee and silvery hair that he slicked back. Both his appearance and his clothes—navy blue slacks and a black sweater vest—gave him a sort of kind, professor-ish appearance, but really he had the mind of a steel trap and was as sharp as they come, even though he was kind, too.
“I thought I could catch you in here about now. Care to join me for a cup of coffee in my office?” the Elite asked.
I glanced at Great Aunt Marraine, who dipped her head to me. “Go ahead, Adept. I’ll take care of everything here.”
“Thank you.” I gave her a quick side hug, barely escaping when she reached for my ear.
She—and probably every staff member present—was likely wondering how I came to be on speaking terms with the Elite.
Granted, I had spoken to him a lot after I got House Medeis back as I tried to unravel everything Mason had done. But that investigation had closed a month ago.
I waited until we were in the hallway—the door closed behind us—before I made my guess. “You have something you want to ask me about Killian Drake, don’t you?” I wryly asked.
Elite Bellus smiled at me. “No, of course not! Well, perhaps indirectly.”
When I stared at him he winked and beckoned me down the hallway.
To illustrate his separation from the Wizard Council, Elite Bellus had his own private offices with a much smaller staff—a secretary, two guards, and at least one aide were always floating through the front rooms.
When we entered, Elite Bellus took a tray that held two steaming mugs of coffee from his secretary, then led the way through a maze of desks and tables to his office.
Elite Bellus’s office had a big window with a spectacular view of the lake that elbowed its way through Magiford. The water was dark, but still beautiful as the last of the red, yellow, and orange leaves fell off tall trees.
I plopped down in the overstuffed, plaid chair positioned in front of his massive desk—which was barely visible thanks to the stacks and stacks of paperwork he had scattered around the room.
“Still bearding the Wizard’s Council, are you?” Elite Bellus offered me a tiny pitcher of cream.
“I’m not going to let them relax until they get an inheritance law on the table for discussion.”
“And the more they resist?”
I grinned. “The more paperwork they’re going to find waiting on their desks. So far we’ve only been lodging complaints about Mason. We can still register complaints on all the Houses that actively worked against me.”
Elite Bellus laughed heartily. “I like your style. It’s legal, but you’re going to push until you force their hand—or drive them insane. Well done.”
“Thank you. So. What did you want to discuss?”
Elite Bellus took a sip of his coffee, then slapped a folded piece of paper on top of the stack of folders closest to me. “I’d like to invite you to this.”
I set my coffee aside and picked up the paper, unfolding it so I could see it was an invitation to an event. “A meeting?” I asked, reading the top line.
“Yes. A mixed group of magical races is giving a small presentation. Everyone from the Regional Committee will be there, and we were each allotted a number of extra invitations to give to the movers and shakers of our community. I’m choosing House Medeis as one of my invitees.” Elite Bellus smoothed his goatee and offered me a sweet smile.
I glanced back at the invitation. “What’s the presentation about?”
“An inter-species police force and local government. The group is from South Dakota, where magical races of any sort have had to pool resources to survive. They claim it has helped reduce fights, increase morale, their community has grown as a result—all the usual claims.” He waved his hand, dismissing the achievement.
“You don’t believe that it’s beneficial?”
“Quite the contrary,” Elite Bellus said. “I believe it’s very beneficial—for those who can manage it. But every place I’ve seen it work has been small and overwhelmed. Everyone was forced together out of sheer necessity. It won’t work here in the Midwest—or the majority of regions—because we don’t have those outside forces at work. It’s just a pretty dream for us. But Pre-Dominant Harka made some noise about it and insisted we fly them out to speak to us when she heard about them.”
I stared at the invitation, trying to piece everything together. Why was he inviting me if he didn’t think the talk would be useful? I mentally reviewed his description of the meeting, then sighed. “You want me to come because Killian is going to be there.”
Elite Bellus gave me two thumbs up. “That’s how your House was able to fly up the ranking charts—you’re sharp!”
“What can you possibly gain by dragging me there?” I asked. “I already told you we didn’t part on good terms.”
Actually, we’d parted on terrible terms. Killian—being manipulative and untrusting—decided the best way to protect me from his Family’s war with the fae Night Court was to unceremoniously kick me out. I figured out what he was doing, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t put up with being treated like that—even if it was because he was doing it for my good. Especially because he thought he was doing it for my good.
Killian had the habit of being a manipulative jerk, and I wasn’t going to let him yank me around on a chain and make all my life decisions for me. Ever since I got
House Medeis back I’d seen a vampire lingering on my street at least once every other day, and whenever possible I chased them off. I didn’t want Killian Drake finding anything out about me.
“Even if you’re mad at him, the fact is Killian Drake took you under his protection. Though it was a short amount of time, he doesn’t extend his protection to just anyone—I’ve seen him watch vampires get arrested in front of him, and he doesn’t even twitch. Somewhere in there, he cares for you. The way he paraded you around the Summer’s End Ball is proof—he wouldn’t lightly introduce you to society in such a way if he didn’t intend to keep the connection.”
I folded one leg over the other and wiggled my foot. “That’s unexpectedly romantic of you, Elite Bellus.”
“Hardly—I’m too logical to afford myself romantic nonsense where Killian Drake is concerned,” he dryly said.
“But you still haven’t said what you hope to achieve.”
“Ah, yes.” He brandished a finger in the air. “Given the topic, I suspect seeing you might throw him for a loop.”
“And you want him thrown for a loop?”
“Indeed.” Elite Bellus leaned back in his chair and picked up his coffee, taking a slow sip. “He’s been an absolute bear since you left. If he goes to that meeting, he’s going to reject everything they say for the sheer principle of it.”
“Why would that matter?” I asked. “You just said you didn’t think anything they talked about would work here.”
“You are right. We’ll never have the mixed subcommittees, but they have a few practices I’d like to consider. Big changes aren’t possible, but if we start small, we might be able to push enough to see if we could benefit.”
“If you want to change things,” I grumbled, “you could start by suggesting inheritance laws.”
Elite Bellus laughed hard enough to make his shoulders twinge. “You are right. That is something we wizards should look into. But I’m afraid I’m more concerned about our society in general, as it stands.”
“Fine.” I tapped the invitation on my leg. “You want me to come so you can hopefully throw Killian off, and then he won’t reject everything the speakers talk about. I’ll do it as long as it works into my schedule.”
“Thank you, I’ll be indebted to you,” Elite Bellus said.
I smiled. “It will be interesting to hear the discussion. But why are you looking to change things here? Are you concerned with where it looks like we’re headed?”
“Yes.” Elite Bellus took another sip of his coffee—more out of habit than real desire, it seemed to me. “If we don’t change our course things are going to get…messy. Besides, we already know what we’re currently doing isn’t working. Magic is still dying.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You think the death of magic can be stopped? Everyone’s been trying to fix it for years, and nothing has worked.”
“I think its failure can be slowed,” Elite Bellus corrected me. “I don’t know if it will ever stop leaking out of our world—not since we let the elves die out. But it’s dying at a faster rate than it was fifty years ago. If we can stabilize it, it will buy us more time.”
I slowly nodded. “I see.”
“Thank you for coming.”
I picked up my cup of coffee and took a sip—holy cow did the Elite like a dark and bitter blend. I dumped enough cream in it to turn it into a latte. “Don’t hold your breath—Killian might not react at all.”
“Maybe, but I’d rather stack the deck in my favor.”
I glanced at the invitation again. “Am I allowed to bring anyone from my House?”
“Of course! As Adept you should bring at least a few of your people. Now, why don’t you tell me what kind of inheritance law you would propose?”
I took another sip of my coffee, then set it aside as I leaned forward. “I’m so glad you asked…”
Two nights later, I tugged my scarf tighter around my neck and leaned up against the House. “Block off the driveway gate and move the front rosebushes so they butt up against the front fence.”
A swirl of magic, and the House complied, feeding off my abilities as it shut the driveway gate and reinforced it with boulders the size of laundry baskets. When it moved the rosebushes it almost looked like an animal was burrowing across the front yard. But even though the prickly bushes had lost their leaves and buds for the year, the branches would still make anyone think twice about trying to shimmy over the tall fence, or stick their arms through the gaps in the iron spokes.
“Good.” I shuffled back a tiny step so my back bumped against the House’s cold, stone covered exterior wall. “Now lock down the weapons and shift them to the basement.”
From my perch on the third-floor patio, I had the perfect view of the locked, waterproofed chests of our practice weapons getting swallowed up by the ground.
The House pushed magic through me—making heat swirl in my wizard mark. The House trundled the chests underground, burping them out in the basement.
I felt a little lightheaded—which was usually a sign I was starting to hit my limits. I sat down on a window ledge and patted the House. “Excellent. Give me a few minutes, and we’ll practice some more.”
I picked up the packet of papers I’d brought outside with me for my down time and tried to turn a page, but it was hard to do with my gloved fingers.
If Great Aunt Marraine knew I was working she’d be furious, and unfortunately I was too short to be out of ear-yanking range. But I needed to go over these papers, and it was the perfect thing to do when I needed to take a break from practicing defensive maneuvers with House Medeis.
Since I was Adept, House Medeis and I could pull and push magic between us. It really upped my abilities—while I was on our property anyway—but it also took a lot of energy. I was trying to accustom myself to it and see if I could improve my stamina. It seemed like it was working—though it also might just be that the House and I were starting to get the feel for each other and were working better together.
I squinted and held my packet up, trying to get some of the light that streamed through the window directly behind me.
House Medeis helpfully turned on a light above my head so I could see what I was reading—the monthly budget for November. (I gotta say, there was a lot more math to being an Adept than I ever thought.)
I stretched my legs out in front of me, resting my feet against one of the spokes of the tiny patio wrought-iron fence. A shadow passed over my papers as someone entered the empty room behind me.
Momoko stuck her head through the patio doorway. “Found a new spot to practice in, didya?”
Felix poked his head out just above hers. “Great Aunt Marraine is looking for you.”
I grinned. “Why do you think I went through the trouble of finding a new spot?”
Felix and Momoko joined me on the patio—which was pretty small, so we were squashed together so we could all fit. I didn’t mind the close quarters—I grew up with Felix and Momoko, and we’d been best friends since forever.
That’s why it was pretty obvious the two of them were psyching themselves up to ask me something—I knew all their tells. Felix was leaning against the door and looking innocent—a sure sign he was up to something—while Momoko was staring at her hands and chewing on her lower lip.
“What is it?” I asked.
The two exchanged looks.
I was a little irritated that they had something they’d obviously discussed separately—we used to share everything—so I might have laced my voice with more sarcasm than necessary. “What, did you two finally confess your unending love for each other?”
Momoko gagged. “What? No! Ew! Gross.”
Felix grimaced as if the idea physically pained him. “I stopped seeing either of you as females years ago.”
“Really?” Momoko asked. “That’s funny, because you seem a lot like a girl friend to me.”
“You—” Felix forcefully cut himself off. He shut his eyes and exhaled loudly, then glared at
Momoko. “That’s not important. We have something we want to discuss. Don’t we, Momoko?”
Momoko pushed some of her black hair over her shoulder, then pressed her hands together as she looked thoughtful. “Yes, that’s right. Hazel…we’re concerned.”
“What, is this an intervention?” I laughed.
Neither of them joined me.
“When you first got the House back I know there was a ton of work you had to catch up on,” Felix said. “But it’s been weeks. You shouldn’t have to do work every second of the day anymore.”
“I don’t do work every second,” I argued. “I eat and hang out with everyone!”
“You do. You make sure you talk to everyone in the House so no one feels left out, and you’ve worked hard to welcome the new wizards. But.” Momoko pressed her steepled fingers against her chin. “The second no one is bothering you, you run off and do more work. It’s like you’re scared of being left alone with your thoughts.”
“There’s a lot of work that still has to be done.” I set the monthly budget down again—having it sitting on my lap wasn’t going to help my argument. “And I’ll admit some of it is self-inflicted—like torturing the Wizard Council—but I want some clear-cut laws in place about House inheritance so this doesn’t happen again.”
Felix pressed his lips into a thin line, his angelic looks making him appear beautifully determined. “Let me rephrase what Momoko said. We know you’re not acting like a crazed workaholic because you feel like you have to get everything done, but because you’re trying to avoid thinking about Killian and the Drake Family.”
Dratted childhood friends—I’d forgotten that they could see all of my tells, too! “I am not trying to avoid thinking about them.” I sounded so fake, canned cheese seemed more genuine.
“Avoidance is your primary coping technique,” Momoko said. “You did it all the time as a kid, and I know you did it some with your parents. You would have avoided Mason if he’d only gone after you, but since he involved all of us he riled up your endless honor and virtue so you were going to face him sooner or later.”