The Joy of Hex

by Sarina Dorie

  I knew all and saw all.

  I saw Vega reach for the ruby, coveting it for the power she couldn’t supply herself with. She wanted to raise the dead. The ruby gave me the understanding of how to bring the dead back to life again—and why it wasn’t wise to rouse them from their dreamless sleep.

  I could have drawn away, but the ruby told me not to. Wisdom told me Vega would see what I saw with the ruby. She needed the same knowledge I possessed. Vega snatched up the dragon egg. Her eyes turned as black as ink. I wondered whether my eyes had done that as well.

  “It’s mine! All mine!” She cackled like a wicked witch and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

  “Uh-oh,” I said.

  The ruby hadn’t predicted that.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Bad Ghouls Have More Fun

  “What was that about?” Felix Thatch asked.

  “That was the Ruby of Knowledge!” Hailey squealed. “And Ms. Bloodmire just stole it!”

  “Son of a witch,” Elric muttered, covering his face with a hand. “She’s going to raise the dead, isn’t she?”

  “She’ll be back,” I said.

  I tried to sound confident, but all certainty had left me. I thought about that glint that had been in Vega’s eyes after I’d told her I was pregnant with Elric’s child. If we were lucky, she wouldn’t do anything . . . evil.

  I waited. She would return. The ruby would give her the wisdom to understand why it was a bad idea to raise the dead. I had seen it. I could see it still, though some of that brilliance was fading.

  Witchkin thought the use of the Red affinity was wrong because of the heinous deeds people had committed in the past using human sacrifice for the purpose of blood magic, torturing people with pain magic, or taking away one’s will with sex magic. They didn’t like the way electricity weakened all except for the Red affinities who possessed it. Yet it was more than that that caused them to fear us. Witchkin followed the mores and traditions set in place by the Fae courts, the Dragon Court, and the Lost Red Court from long ago without realizing why.

  Witchkin and many Fae didn’t understand the reason for the taboo of necromancy, though they lumped it into the same category as other crimes. The Dragon Court understood, though. The Ruby of Divine Wisdom had whispered those secrets to me.

  Necromancy meant one could speak with or raise the dead, depending on how the skill manifested in a Red affinity. Even if that person’s body could be healed with powerful Celestor and Red magic, more and more energy would be needed to sustain that body. If the corpse wasn’t fully decomposed, it might stand a chance at permanent resurrection. The true cost was what it did to the soul of the deceased.

  After death, the soul was supposed to move on, decomposing more quickly than the body, becoming absorbed into the spirit realm and breaking apart. Each fragment would couple with other fragments, incubating until another body was ready to absorb this new soul.

  To bring back the dead meant to collect part of that soul once again—even if that soul now belonged to someone else. Brogan McLean had said he had felt peace, though he had no memory of the afterlife. What he hadn’t mentioned was the tugging on his soul the longer he had been resurrected, the feeling like he was being urged to return to whence he had come. There would be no returning him permanently to his body without robbing someone else of a fragment of their soul.

  Thatch had survived the ordeal of gifting the Raven Queen with part of his soul in exchange for his sisters’ freedom, but the aftermath had been painful. Even now, with his soul partially grown back, he suffered. It would be wrong to steal a piece of a soul from someone to return it to another.

  Surely Vega had to see that. Not that Vega had ever been one to be particularly concerned about doing what was right.

  My apprehension grew when the silence stretched on. Vega didn’t return. Faces turned to me.

  “I guess it’s time for plan B,” I said. “Elric, can you get the Seal of Solomon from your father?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Coming out of the Broom Closet

  I needed to tell everyone my plan and how each would play a role—assuming they would want to after they learned what they needed to do.

  “First things first,” I said. “I need to get something out of the way. I need everyone to take a seat.”

  Like anxious students clamoring for class after the bell rang, my friends and former colleagues found seats in the room. Unlike high school students, they did so silently and without complaint.

  I sat on one of the settees, Elric on one side of me. I would have liked for my husband to sit beside me. I wanted him to be there to reassure me.

  As people crowded onto Victorian divans and chairs, Thatch turned away, facing the corner as though he were a child being punished. I knew he wasn’t going to like what I was about to say. He’d always insisted I remain secretive about what I was. That had never worked out to my benefit. I’d tried things his way. I was ready to try things my way for a change.

  I drew in a fortifying breath. “You all know about Imani being abducted.”

  Faces around the room nodded. Their expressions were grim.

  “What you don’t know is about my baby.” I glanced at Thatch’s posture, rigid as he pretended to examine a still life on the wall. “After my mom was abducted and she was turned into a tree, the incident that injured me was giving birth to a baby, which the Raven Queen stole. She has had my baby for over a year now. From what I gather, she is safe for the moment because she’s a baby and Fae typically want a baby to survive to adulthood.”

  Josie’s brow crinkled up in confusion. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Her eyes were full of hurt.

  “My memories have only just returned.” A spark of resentment rose in me. I forced it back down. Thatch had been trying to protect me from heartache.

  “Few Witchkin are able to have children at all these days,” Khaba said slowly, careful not to actually talk about what I was if he suspected. “If you’re fertile, surely you’ll be able to have another.”

  “Don’t you get it?” Tears filled Maddy’s eyes. “It isn’t right for the Fae to steal someone’s baby.”

  I knew she was speaking from experience. The days were ticking away until the King of the Pacific came for her boy.

  “Obviously, you’ve never had children, dumbass,” Hailey said. “She doesn’t want another. She wants her baby.”

  Khaba held himself straighter. “I have sired children. Long ago in an age before Fae had such problems.”

  Hailey’s face contorted with rage. “Well maybe you just don’t have maternal instincts because—”

  I feared the next words that would come from her mouth. Either she was going to say he didn’t care because he was Fae or because he wasn’t a mother. Hailey’s voice quickly snuffed out. She blustered on, her face turning red, but no one heard her.

  I wondered which witch in the room had silenced her.

  “That brings us to our next point,” I said. “You must be wondering how I had a baby when so few children are born to Witchkin at all these days.”

  “You don’t need to say it,” Thatch said to the wall. “It isn’t anyone else’s business.”

  I lifted my chin. “In this case, it is.”

  Josie exchanged a worried glance with Pinky. “We already know what you are. You’re . . . a fertility nymph. End of story.” She laughed nervously.

  From her reaction, I could see she knew. She didn’t want anyone else to know either. Her kindness touched me. She’d never even hinted at suspecting what I was. Then again, she might have drawn a lot of conclusions during the time I’d been asleep.

  “You need to know what you’re getting into,” I said. “I don’t want to be secretive and tell lies like Alouette Loraline did. Transparency is important.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Khaba said. For once, he wasn’t smiling and joking. There was a hard edge to his words.

 
I knew he was all about rules. If I came out and said what I was, he might need to report me to someone. Whoever that authority was.

  I smoothed my palms against my skirt. “All of you know me. You’ve seen my conduct with students and staff. I want what’s best for my students—for everyone. I try to protect people from getting hurt. I don’t use my magic to harm others.” I stared into the faces of my friends. “Just because my magic is different, it doesn’t make it bad. These traditions Witchkin and Fae have for labeling each other’s magic as inferior or calling it bad needs to stop. Just because Elric and Khaba are Fae, doesn’t make them evil. Just because the rest of us are Witchkin doesn’t mean we’re less.”

  People nodded. I felt like they were on board so far. I wished Vega had been there with them.

  “Just because someone has a plant affinity, doesn’t mean someone is going to use it to poison others. Not all sirens drown men, and not all fire sprites burn people for pleasure. There are good and bad people of every affinity.” I was nudging closer to the point of this.

  “Not all rock affinities crush their enemies,” Ludomil said.

  Khaba arched an eyebrow at Josie. “Not all djinn yearn to make your every wish come true.”

  She stared into her lap. Pinky leaned in closer, whispering something that made her blush. I had a guess who did intend to make her wishes come true.

  “Just because my affinity is different, doesn’t automatically make me bad,” I said. “It doesn’t mean I’m going to use it to torture someone or take away someone’s will. My affinity doesn’t rule my decisions or bend me to the whims of my magic.” Not anymore. “I am in control. I can decide when and how I want to use it.”

  “Just get it over with and come out with it already,” Hailey muttered. She looked like she was about to say something else, but her voice cut out again.

  Ben and Balthasar giggled.

  “I am a Red affinity,” I said.

  There. I was out of the closet.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The Red Army

  Khaba leaned back in his chair, one eyebrow raised. No one said a word. I expected them to gasp or cry out in alarm. The room remained perfectly still. The silence was unnerving.

  “Um,” I said. “Any questions?”

  Thatch’s face was drawn. His gaze flickered from one face to the next, his body tense, as if waiting for someone to pounce.

  Ludomil coughed. Satyr Sam looked like he was trying not to laugh.

  “Is that all?” Ben asked.

  They didn’t seem particularly surprised. Maybe they hadn’t heard me. Or perhaps Elric had used a charm to make them hear different words from what I intended to say, like that one time at the open house in front of that giant crowd of donors.

  Elric sat beside me, his hands clasped on his knee, watching me with interest.

  “I said I’m a Red affinity,” I repeated.

  “We heard you the first time,” Khaba said.

  Their lack of response a second time unsettled me even more. “You don’t seem . . . surprised.”

  Sam chuckled. “Well, it was kind of obvious when you resurrected Vega Bloodmire from the dead.”

  Gertrude Periwinkle adjusted her pointed witch hat. “And vanquished the Princess of Lies and Truth using electricity.”

  “Or the time lightning struck you, and you survived,” Ludomil said.

  Balthasar crossed his arms. “Or the time you resurrected my sister from the dead.”

  Khaba added, “And Brogan.”

  People started talking over each other all at once.

  “And Morty electronics don’t bother you,” Balthasar said. “Like when you confiscated our phones.”

  “You amplify the affinities of others,” Maddy said.

  Ben looked from her to me. “Really? I didn’t know that.”

  “Plus there’s the Raven Queen and the Silver Court always trying to kill you or snatch you.”

  “And there was that time at the All Hallows’ Eve Open House and the lights went all weird and red and you came out on stage and apologized.”

  “That wasn’t even me, though!” I said.

  “It was Imani,” Hailey said in her ever-so-helpful way. “She’s a Red affinity too.”

  I shot a dirty look at her.

  She shrugged. “You said you were going to come clean. You might as well go all the way.”

  Some secrets weren’t mine to tell.

  “So the entire staff already knew?” I asked. “I gave myself away?”

  Khaba shrugged. “Plus, Josie can’t keep her mouth shut.”

  I felt my eyes go wide as I looked at my friend.

  “I didn’t mean for everyone at the staff meeting last year to find out,” Josie said quickly. “I thought I was whispering quietly just to Pinky, but then it got quiet really fast, and it sounded like I was shouting. Sorry.”

  “Oh, uh, okay. Great. You already know.” They all had come despite knowing what I was. That must have meant no one here was afraid of me or thought I was evil. This made things easier. “Electricity is the one thing that can injure both Fae and Witchkin. It’s the one kind of magic that I have that our enemies don’t. With my affinity, we have a chance of defeating the Raven Queen and getting back our loved ones. It’s the chance to defeat her once and for all.”

  “Yeah!” Ben pumped his fist into the air. “Let’s go kick some Raven Court ass!”

  Balthasar punched him. “Shut up, butt munch. She isn’t done talking yet.”

  I appreciated their enthusiasm, even if I suspected they weren’t the sharpest swords in the armory.

  “It’s going to take more than lightning to put the Raven Queen in her place,” Gertrude Periwinkle said.

  “That’s only part of the plan.” I nodded. “I can’t do this alone. We need spies and operatives working within the Raven Queen’s castle so that someone knows where the prisoners are and can keep them safe. We need someone to make sure the slaves and servants aren’t hurt.”

  Elric tilted his head to the side, studying me thoughtfully. “How do you propose appointing spies without the Raven Queen finding them?”

  “They will need to hide in plain sight.” I swallowed, knowing this was risky. “The Raven Court has servants. I’ve seen women who can weave clothes and sasquatches who work as slaves.”

  I’d also seen a sasquatch in a cell in the dungeon, though I didn’t know why he was being held there. From what I knew about sasquatch enslavement, it was more the norm to work them to death than imprison them. My eyes met Pinky’s. If the idea made him nervous, he didn’t show it. Then again, so much fur covered his face, his expression was difficult to read when he wasn’t smiling.

  “You can’t just send Pinky to the Raven Queen. She might kill him. Someone will recognize him from the battle,” Josie said.

  Elric coughed loudly. “Not necessarily.” He flashed an apologetic smile at Pinky. “I beg your pardon for saying so, but most Fae can’t tell the difference from one sasquatch to another. If you’re that concerned, you could dye your fur, but it isn’t necessary.”

  “It would just be for a couple of days,” I said. “After you plant the seeds of rebellion among the staff, the rest of us will storm the castle.”

  Thatch snorted. “Storm the castle.”

  Pinky nodded as if deciding. “Yes. I’ll go.”

  “What about teaching?” Thatch asked. “Are you forgetting your obligations to your students and your school?”

  Leave it to Professor Grumpsalot to find a practical reason to reject my plan.

  “Pinky will be helping his students—and all future students.” If we were successful. “What obligation is greater than that?”

  I looked to Josie. “They might be willing to hire a weaver such as yourself. They had maids who produced clothing.”

  “You would need a disguise.” Pinky picked up a streak of lavender hair and tickled her cheek with it. “Someone
would have to be blind not to notice you.” From the way he grinned at her, someone would have to be blind not to see he was smitten.

  Josie blushed.

  “There’s a problem with Josie working as a maid,” I said. “They cut out the tongues of the lady’s maids and seamstresses so they won’t gossip.”

  Khaba nudged her with an elbow. “That would cure someone from talking too much.”

  She made a face at him.

  “That’s an easy fix,” Elric said. “The least of our problems. There are plenty of spells that can result in mutism: temporary removal of the tongue, sealing one’s lips together—which is a chore for eating—and deafness.”

  Ben raised his hand timidly, fear in his eyes. “What about us? Should we go there seeking work?” He looked to Balthasar, who was doing an admirable job pretending not to be afraid.

  Thatch lifted his nose up at them. “I hardly think the Raven Queen has need of a leprechaun security guard.”

  Thatch’s snotty tone and insolence reminded me of all the times he had publicly belittled me. I had never guessed that was his way of covering his feelings for me. I suspected his snide remarks about Ben were another one of Thatch’s unorthodox ways of showing he cared.

  Satyr Sam and Ludomil Sokoloff whispered to each other in the corner. Gertrude and Lucifer were getting awfully snuggly on the chair they were sharing. I couldn’t tell whether they were whispering sweet nothings in each other’s ears or discussing my plan.

  “We will go,” Sam said. “We’re adults, and we have valuable job skills. Even a castle full of villains needs a groundskeeper and someone to keep it clean.”

  Ludomil elbowed Sam. “The worst they can do is pay us even less than we get paid now.”

  No. The worst they could do was torture them to death—for no reason at all.

  Maddy raised her hand. “We could work in the kitchen! Or as washer women!” She gestured to her and Hailey.

  “No,” Thatch said firmly. “Two pretty young ladies, hired as maids or not, will be treated cruelly by royalty. They will use you, if not for your bodies, for your magic.”