The Sunken Tower

by J A Campbell

  “You have your orders.” Lord Clarion enunciated each word like he was speaking to a trio of three-year-olds. He rose to tower over the three of them, glowering and summoning power that electrified the space between them. “You are an ignorant fae, but your companions are well aware of the penalty of a JM officer disregarding direct orders. Shall I summon the executioner now?”

  “No, milord.” Melanie bowed her head and led her party out of there. “We will do our jobs as they have been assigned by you.”

  “He’s now well and truly screwed all of us,” Hagatha said, her laughter brittle and ironic.

  “Well, we got here safely via the Ways; you think we can get back to Curon?” Elise asked.

  “I think we should ready our powers and go,” Melanie replied. “I want out of here. Now.”

  The three exchanged glances and nodded. They’d made it safely through the Ways to the JM. None of them thought much about summoning a WayGate to go back to Curon Venosta.

  Everything appeared normal—for a supernatural passage that allowed people to traverse miles in literally minutes—until they stepped past the merry-go-round. The world went gray and spun them around faster than a 78 RPM record.

  Melanie landed screaming on her hands and knees in blackness.

  “Elise! Hagatha!”

  She called to her companions, but she couldn’t even hear her own voice. She tried again. Nothing. Once more, this time with her hand on her throat to feel the vibrations. Her vocal chords worked, but her ears didn’t?

  She raised her hand to touch her face. Blinking, she shook her head. She couldn’t see, either.

  Am I blind and deaf? How can I even know where I am?

  She reached out to feel walls, a floor, something. While she could touch her own body, she couldn’t feel any of her surroundings, whatever they were. Wherever she was.

  What do I do? Melanie forced her panicked breathing to steady, her mind to focus on solutions and not fear. Who can help me?

  Marcus Macrow.

  Every time they faced a tough issue, Elise and Hagatha wished for his knowledge and competence. She trusted them. They’d been mages far longer than she. And he—Goddess knows how long he’d been a mage.

  Marcus, help!

  She focused everything she could summon on him, using her note-perfect memory to conjure his image: amber hair, intense green eyes, stern expression, stylish black clothing…deep voice, even-cadenced footsteps. One of the finest asses she’d ever seen…

  Magical energy prickled along her senses. Light from a WayGate just a few steps ahead nearly blinded her. She ran for it, preparing herself for anything.

  She sprang through the WayGate as the light started to narrow…

  She struck a solidly-muscled male body with enough force to knock the wind out of her.

  “Thank the Goddess, you’re alive,” Marcus’ rich voice startled her. Strong arms encircled her in a breath-stealing embrace. Lips warm and sensual covered hers.

  Her knees buckled, and her arms struggled to return his embrace.

  Stop! Her mind screamed. Marcus has never shown you affection like this. He’s teased and flirted, but no…You could still be in the Ways. This could be a crossroads and an offer you dare not accept!

  Breathing hard, she took both hands and every ounce of willpower she had to push away. Her heart didn’t stop hammering even half the room away.

  Marcus Macrow stood before her. Only it wasn’t quite the man she’d pictured.

  Instead of the solemn expression, his eyes shone with relief. His lips bowed into a warm smile. Instead of the sleek dark attire, he wore blue jeans, a brown bomber jacket, and green shirt, outdoorsy and comfortable—by the looks of it, tailored to fit him precisely.

  They were in the living room of Elise’s tower, with Slade, her cowboy ghost assistant, hovering insubstantially in the background, his hat in his hands.

  Or maybe it was the Ways equivalent; she had no way of knowing.

  “Who are you, and what have you done with Marcus Macrow?” Melanie demanded, resolving to keep as much distance as she could.

  “Your Highness, I am he.”

  Melanie took another steadying breath. Well, the damn proper title and impeccable grammar sounded like him.

  “How can I prove that?” She wasn’t sure why she asked the question aloud—maybe just for the relief that her ears and vocal chords were functioning.

  “Ask me anything.”

  “I know so little about you, how would I even know your answers were true?” Then she paused. She had learned a few things.

  “Who is Elise to you?”

  “My—my daughter—and alas, my cousin.”

  “Who is her mother?”

  “Audrey Winters.”

  Melanie glared at him.

  Marcus looked calmly back. “Audrey is the woman who loved Elise from her adoption on. The woman who gave birth to her has not earned the right of the title.”

  Melanie swallowed at Marcus’ pained expression. The man she previously thought ice cold hurt, and he was strong enough to let her see it, though he didn’t know she knew the family secret.

  “What did I call you when we first met?”

  His mouth spread into a grin, and he conjured a small halo of sparks around his person. “Palpatine.”

  “We’re not stuck in the Ways?”

  Marcus gestured to Slade. “He’s anchored here and cannot venture through a WayGate without Elise.”

  One step and she’d wrapped her arms around him, returning his kiss. The sparks shattered around them like fireworks, popping off harmlessly with just a gesture. She devoured his mouth, ran her fingers through his hair, and contemplated more.

  “Where have the three of you been?” He pulled his mouth away to ask, but didn’t release her from his embrace.

  “We got an assignment from the JM that we thought came from you. We started out in Greece.” Melanie looked up at him. “That’s originally where the JM sent us. The trail of shipwrecks led us to Curon Venosta, Italy.”

  He stiffened, his eyes alarmed. “There is no JM assignment open there. The last was seven hundred years ago, and it was mine. Sir Judas Veronis and I sealed the serpents in the passages beneath St. Catherine’s.”

  “You look really good for being over seven hundred years old,” Melanie managed.

  His brow quirked, and a smile curved his lips. “Both of us will live a good, long time, my dear, and I hope to spend it with you. But first, where are my kinswomen? Are they both alive and well?”

  Melanie broke away and pulled out her phone. Elise answered on the first ring.

  “I’m safe,” she said. “Marcus is here with me at your tower. I’m handing over the phone to him.”

  “Thank the Goddess you made it through the Ways,” Elise breathed. “We’re in Curon, at the hotel. Would you bring us some clothing we don’t have to magic?”

  “Of course,” Melanie laughed. “I’ll get Slade to help me pack now, and here’s Marcus.”

  Melanie handed the phone to Marcus, rushed upstairs, and grabbed the largest bag she could find. With Slade’s help, she quickly filled it with clothing for Elise and Hagatha to share, since they were close to the same size, and her own winter things. She also grabbed her second laptop bag, after she made sure she had a decent backup saved on the cloud.

  She hastened back down the spiral staircase but paused, her face warming, and she set the bags down so she could face Marcus. He noticed everything. He’d probably seen the absence of her ring, and she needed to explain.

  “I’m sorry. When we were in Miami, the dragons caught us on the Boston Whaler and demanded treasure. I threw my engagement ring in the water. They still wrecked us.”

  “My dear.” Marcus smiled and captured her in another breathtaking embrace. “You are the prized jewel I would fear losing. The ring is unimportant. It can be replaced. You cannot.”

  She leaned against his shoulder for a moment and just breathed.

  �
�I think I’ll let Elise and Hagatha tell you the rest,” she said. “I’m so glad to see you. Thank you for pulling me out of the Ways when I was lost.”

  “Milady, that was entirely your doing. I’m impressed with your ability to rescue yourself.”

  “I thought about you,” Melanie could barely speak past the lump in her throat.

  His arms tightened and he held her for several moments. She leaned against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body, the beat of his heart. Something told her this was where she was meant to be.

  “We’re going to all solve this together,” he said. “And then we’ll get to the bottom of what happened with the JM.”

  Melanie swallowed. “Thank you. I think we’re all going to feel better knowing you’re there to aid us.”

  “Then let’s get there and be done with it,” Marcus said.

  When she nodded, he opened a WayGate. The trip through the puppet factory was not too odd—save for the assembly area where the marionettes were given genitalia and had to have the parts inspected for functionality.

  “And here we are, back in the Ninth Circle of Hell,” Marcus said when they arrived. “And it’s frozen over, no less.”

  “Melanie!” Elise grabbed the tiny fae girl and hugged her hard. Hagatha took a turn as well, feeling Melanie return the hug despite the trouble she had caused. Marcus came in behind her, closed the door, and locked it.

  “How did you manage to get through the Ways?” Elise’s voice was shaky.

  Melanie took a long breath. “Everything was gray. I was deaf and blind. All I could do was think of the one person I hoped would get me out: Marcus. I don’t know how that worked, but the next thing I knew, I was in your tower with Marcus and Slade.”

  She blinked several times. Marcus laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. Hagatha’s heart hurt. They were together, and it was probably meant to be, if Melanie could reach out to him like that. If she were going to find either Marcus or Melanie herself, she’d have to blood scry.

  “Thank the Goddess,” they both said. Hagatha’s voice shook, and she couldn’t look at Cousin Marcus.

  “Milord.” Hagatha addressed Marcus formally after Elise hugged him and greeted him happily. Under normal circumstances, she’d have claimed her own hug or at least a handshake, but it was confession time.

  “I need to confess.” She was fairly certain there were more formal terms for what a liege-lady would say to her lord under the circumstances. Probably Elise and Melanie both knew them, but she didn’t want to wait and find out. Best to rip the bandage off and hope he didn’t choose to amputate the cause of the wound—which would be her.

  “I am listening.” Marcus had extended a hand and pulled it back. The man was mercurial. He could shift from fond kindred to Lord of the House faster than Aldo’s Ferrari. He stood before her, impassive-faced, his incisive, green eyes searching hers. Melanie remained at his side, her own posture erect as a court lady’s. Her eyes were at least more compassionate.

  “I had an affair with Lord Clarion.” Hagatha had to swallow back a bitter taste to say the words. She glanced toward Elise, who still wore the emerald at her throat. “He gave me an enchanted emerald pendant that caused me to stir up discontent among us. It has since been de-spelled.”

  Marcus nodded, his lips set in a firm line.

  “I also attempted to seduce your betrothed,” Hagatha said. “I could blame that on the pendant, but, well… I’m blaming it on the music and her personality.”

  Marcus’ right eyebrow twitched minutely, and his gaze shifted to Melanie. Hagatha looked a mute apology at her, but if word got to him about her doings from elsewhere, she’d be in more trouble. Truth, she couldn’t count on Elise not narcing her out. They were best friends, and they were fond, but Elise was a daddy’s girl, whether it was Richard Winters or Marcus Macrow.

  “Your Highness, did this behavior discomfit you?” Marcus’ voice was infinitely calm when he turned to Melanie to ask, but Hagatha braced herself.

  Melanie’s eyes widened. She swallowed and looked like she considered her words carefully, looking between the two of them. “No, Milord Macrow, I was not discomfited. It does not offend me if someone flirts with or propositions me, as long as they are willing to take no for an answer. Hagatha did not give me any problem, once it was made clear I am taken.”

  Thanks, Elise, Hagatha thought, but didn’t look toward her cousin.

  Marcus nodded minutely. “Is that all, Hagatha?”

  “No.” Hagatha’s guts tightened. Now she was the narc. She had no idea how Marcus was going to take this part. “Melanie’s ex-boyfriend is here in town. He sent her roses and invited her to a family wedding. I went in her stead when she refused him. I found my citrine cathedral, which I had lost in the Mediterranean Sea, among the wedding gifts. I stole it back at the wedding.”

  “That was ill-advised,” Marcus said. “However, considering the stone held a heavy charge of magic, which could have been dangerous to a non-gifted person, your actions were necessary.”

  “It gets worse. I didn’t realize I was stealing from the local Mafia, Don Giovanni Machiavelli’s family,” Hagatha said.

  When Marcus didn’t raise a brow, she realized he knew. Had Melanie told him, or had he run a background on his fiancée? She had no idea how Marcus seemed to know everything.

  “Is that all?” he asked, his voice still calm.

  She paused, looking down at her hands, her face flaming. “No, milord. I brought Aldo back here…at that time, we were all sharing a room because the hotel was full… When he saw Melanie walk in, he got out of bed naked and chased her through the hotel begging her to come back to him.”

  Melanie laughed, her cheeks abruptly bright pink. “Now that was discomfiting.”

  “Indeed,” Marcus replied, drily. “I can only imagine.”

  “Hey, I can laugh about it now,” Melanie said.

  Marcus smiled at that. “Do go on, then, Hagatha. I presume there is more.”

  “The Don figured out I was the thief,” Hagatha said. “I suspect his son might well have ratted me out. His men found us and took us to his home. Elise got us out of there alive.”

  “Well done.” Marcus nodded at Elise, who Hagatha suspected felt like she was about ten feet off the ground from her father’s praise.

  “I said House Macrow would replace the stone,” Elise said. “I should do that.”

  “Indeed, House Macrow should,” Marcus replied. “I shall attend to that detail posthaste. Is there anything else?”

  “Valonna’s here in Curon,” Elise cut in. “She’s made offers to all of us to forsake you, and we’ve refused her. We think she’s been trying to kill us and likely set the dragons free to wreak more havoc.”

  “She left Hagatha with a lock of her mother’s hair,” Elise continued. “From it we were able to summon her ghost and gain witness to precisely how she died. Using this as evidence, we can try her for murder with the JM.”

  “That’s it?” Marcus asked. Melanie, who stood close beside him, covered her mouth, her head shaking ruefully.

  “Isn’t that enough?” Hagatha stared at him, feeling near-hysterical laughter bubbling up close to the surface.

  “Verily,” Marcus agreed. “It is quite a lot. Lord Clarion is an enemy from the time of the JM’s first encounter with the dragons. He and his betrothed, Larissa, were junior members of the team sent to quell them, along with Sir Judas. She perished, and he blames me. I would not be surprised if he was behind the release of the dragons and this unsanctioned JM mission of yours.”

  “Valonna released the dragons,” Elise spoke up. “Melanie and I heard it when we were trapped in the church while they were mating.”

  Hagatha opened her mouth to mention the hatchlings, but Marcus spoke, and she chose not to interrupt.

  Marcus let out a long breath. “Then Paolo Clarion is indeed behind this, because the JM records for the original mission were sealed. I have not told Valonna, nor do I believe anyone els
e on the Council has.”

  “I have our original orders. I admit, I lied to Lord Clarion when he asked for them. At that point, we were suspicious.” Elise pulled the document from her fanny pack. The thing had been soaked in the ocean twice, but the ink was still readable, so the orders were clear—and so was the GPS location they’d been sent to.

  “May I have your phone please?” Melanie asked Marcus. He quickly pulled it from his pocket and handed it over.

  “Gee,” Melanie said, typing the location into Marcus’ phone. “Big surprise, it’s in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea, right where we all nearly drowned. When we confronted Lord Clarion at the JM, the patronizing sod gave us entirely different coordinates.”

  Hagatha saw Elise smile like a cat with a single talon affixed to the tail of a particularly juicy mouse. Yes indeed, she was definitely Marcus’ daughter. “I could have confronted him then, but the conversation had no witnesses. I figured I needed the Council on our side. He ordered us to kill all the dragons, by the way.”

  “Excellent call. Well played,” Marcus said. “Paolo probably believes he’s safe now and he can just sit back and watch the three of you die as revenge for his fiancée’s death. And if the dragons don’t kill you, he can charge you for countermanding JM rules regarding destruction of non-human mages. Pardon me while I make some phone calls.”

  Melanie handed him back his phone, and he frowned when he tried to use it. “It’s not working.”

  Melanie held out her hand. “Let me see.”

  He handed over the expensive high-tech gadget with a look of relief. If Lord Marcus Macrow could be said to have one weakness, it was technophobia. He had learned to use a computer, but his new phone still eluded him. Hagatha had no idea of the man’s actual age. Far too often, people thought he was her younger cousin, but he’d just given away that he was at least seven hundred. She wondered if he preferred carrier pigeon, or perhaps mounted messengers.

  “Beautiful, talented, and a geek.” Marcus smiled down at Melanie, who shook her head at him ruefully and set to work finding the problem.