by Zoe Chant
"Are you all right?" Gio asked.
"Just ... coping." She looked down into the ink-dark coffee. "Okay, so magic is real. Cultists showing up at neighborhood brewpubs shooting poison darts at people is a thing that happens. So is traveling halfway around the world in a few minutes. Whew." She blew out a breath and took a scalding gulp from the cup. "Ow." It was both hotter and stronger than she had expected. "Okay, yes. Feeling better. Sort of."
Mace abruptly jerked against her side. He sat halfway up and then flopped back down with a groan.
"Welcome back," Thea said. She twisted around to get a better look at him. He was pale and squinting against the light as if his head hurt.
"Coffee?" Gio asked.
"Aspirin would be better," Mace groaned. He made an effort to sit up. Thea somewhat shyly offered her shoulder for him to steady himself on. This might have been a mistake; she was all too aware of his proximity, and the muscular strength of his body through the burgundy sweater. Although the night was warm, she could feel him shivering slightly.
"I don't know if it's wise to mix painkillers with whatever was in the dart," Gio said. "What was it, do you know?"
"No idea." Mace rubbed his forehead. He was getting steadier by the moment, with color starting to come back into his face. "I'm going to guess it was a formula designed to take down—" His pause was brief but noticeable. "—a big guy like me."
He was going to say something else. Thea was positive of it. There was more to this than they were telling her, though she couldn't imagine what could be even more of a secret than magic-using cultists and being able to transport through solid rock.
"You think they were after you specifically?" Gio poured another cup of coffee and handed it to Mace. The espresso-sized cup looked tiny in his large hands.
"I'm sure of it." Mace ran a hand across his face and turned to Thea. "I am so sorry I got you mixed up in this. I never meant to bring danger to you."
Thea shook her head and took his hand briefly. His fingers were cold, but he twisted his hand around to clasp hers. "I feel like I should be more upset about it than I am. But the truth is, I've craved adventure all my life. I never would have gone into archaeology if I wasn't prepared to deal with adversity and hardship." Although even as she said it, she couldn't help feeling like a liar. Adversity and hardship—right up to the point when she slammed full speed into a wall, and then she had fled back to the safety of her office, her books, and her classes.
Maybe she had needed something to shake her out of that safe, comfortable existence, and help her learn to take risks again.
Although cultist magicians weren't exactly what she'd had in mind.
"How much of a risk is it that they might come here?" Gio asked. "They do know about me."
"They might, but they'll have to get past the wards first." To Thea, Mace explained, "We had some issues with this group last year. After that, I set up protections around Gio's place, as well as I know how. They can get here, but they'll have to walk in like normal people."
"As opposed to getting here how?" Thea asked, not sure if she wanted the answer.
"Portals," Gio said.
"Oh," Thea said blankly. "Portals. Yes, of course."
"And they're halfway around the world in Toronto right now, so we don't have to worry about them coming here for a while, at least. Unless they've had someone watching your house. Have you seen any sign of that?" Mace asked Gio.
Gio shook his head. "No, they've left me entirely alone after that one time. I don't think they consider me any sort of threat. They are clearly watching you, though."
"I should probably take you to Stonegarden for a while just to be on the safe side," Mace said. "Both of you. The protections on Stonegarden are old and strong, much stronger than anything I know how to make. Stonegarden is my family estate," he explained to Thea.
"Wait—in Newfoundland? I—I have classes. And meetings. And students."
But some part of her was lifting up on a rising tide of excitement. She hadn't even been out of Toronto since the cave-in. It was the longest she had spent in her life without going anywhere.
What if I DID go to Newfoundland for a little while? I can get Dr. Mendoza to handle my grad students and classes for a while, and we're almost on course break anyway. It's not a bad time.
"When would we go?" she asked.
"Immediately, if possible," Mace said. He flexed a hand and leaned down from the couch to place it flat against the floor tiles. "I feel stronger. I can stonewalk you there tonight."
"Stonewalk?" Thea's voice climbed a register. "Is that what you did before?"
She was up off the couch before she consciously realized she was going to move, backing up until she could press her back against a plaster pillar. The solidity helped make it feel less like the earth was going to vanish under her feet again.
Mace rose too, holding out a hand. "It's safe. I shouldn't have done it without explaining to you what was happening, but I didn't have a choice."
Thea shook her head. "No. I'm not doing it again. I'll get back home the traditional way, thanks." She swallowed and forced her balled-up hands to unclench. "On a plane."
"Do you have a passport?" Gio asked mildly.
"Shit." She clapped a hand to her mouth. "I don't have anything. I lost my bag at the restaurant. I don't even have a toothbrush."
"I could stonewalk you back to your place to pack—"
"No!" she snapped. "I'm not doing it again, understand? I don't care if a whole cabal of evil magician cultists is about to come down on me, don't do that to me again."
Mace was looking at her with a strange intensity in his green eyes. "I won't," he said gently. "I won't, Thea. Not without your permission."
"Thank you." She wiped her wet palms on her jeans. It was starting to sink in that she was in a foreign country and had no paperwork to get out of it. "My passport, could we—maybe I could have my landlady go in and get it? She could mail it to me here."
"There's a faster way," Mace said. "I can stonewalk back to Toronto and pack a few things for you, if you'd like. I can get your passport and an overnight bag."
"Oh." She couldn't see any reason why not. The idea of having Mace in her apartment was strangely thrilling. "Yes—that'd be fine. Gio, could I get some paper or something? I'll make a list."
Gio brought her a notepad and a pen. She sat on the couch with her legs crossed under her, and pulled her reading glasses out of her pocket. "Well, at least I have these," she murmured, and began scribbling notes. "There's not a lot I need. I'm used to living out of a backpack for months at a time. My passport is the main thing. I can't get out of Italy without it."
She pointedly ignored Mace opening and then closing his mouth. At least he had the common sense not to suggest doing the stone thing again. Thinking about it still made her go cold all over, skin prickling with sweat.
She pushed the thought away, and shoved the list at Mace. "Thank you," she said. It came out more begrudging than she intended, so she softened it with a smile. "I wrote my address on there too. Here's my house key."
At least she had that, her phone, and her wallet. Her habit of absent-mindedly shoving things into pockets instead of putting it all in her bag had never come in handy so much as at this moment. She spared a brief moment's regret for the bag in the restaurant, but it wasn't worth asking Mace to put himself in danger by going back for it. All she would lose was the map and some class notes she could reconstruct.
It was starting to sink in just how much she was going to need to reschedule or cover in order to vanish from her university life on a moment's notice. She had advising meetings, tests and finals, research papers in progress ...
She could just give up on the whole business, she thought. Fly home to Toronto, go back to her life, teach her classes, hope the cultists would leave her alone—
And maybe they would! Probably they would. She could slip right back into her regular life and forget that any of this had happened.
/> But she didn't want to.
She wanted to help find Mace's medallion. She wanted to get back out in the field again, to have adventures again. She wanted to start peeling the layers off the onion-like mystery that was Mace MacKay.
Cultists or none, having Mace walk into her office was the best thing that had happened to her in years.
"Er ... you okay?" Mace waved a hand in front of her face. "You zoned out for a minute there."
"Thinking," she said promptly. "About things. Apartment-related things."
Definitely not things like artifact-hunting with Mace, and the way it would bring them into closer contact. She wouldn't mind having his hands on her in a less dire situation.
Down, girl.
"I may as well leave immediately," Mace said.
Thea frowned at him. He was still pale. "Are you feeling well enough?"
Mace straightened his shoulders. Impressive shoulders, she couldn't help noticing. "I'll be fine. It might even help. Being underground has healing properties for—" He seemed to switch gears smoothly, as if he was about to say something else and then diverted abruptly. "—those with my abilities."
"I think I should go with you," Gio said.
"I don't need a babysitter. Stay with her."
"I'm not thinking you need a babysitter, I'm thinking you need someone to watch your back," Gio retorted. "Do you really want to be looking around for attackers while shoving clothing into a suitcase? No offense," he said to Thea.
"No, you're right," she said. "You should go with him. I'll be fine here. You said they won't be here soon, right?"
"No reason why they would be. Not immediately, at least." Mace started to rub his temple, then dropped his hand. "All right, but at least show her your panic room."
"Panic room?" Thea asked.
Gio smiled. "Ah. This way, please."
He led them into the house. Thea had brief glimpses of understated grandeur. It wasn't huge and extravagant, but there was a sense of quiet elegance to everything she saw, from the simple but beautiful furniture to walls with mural paintings of grape arbors and seascapes.
Gio stopped at a wall with a fresco of dolphins. "The trigger is here," he said, and reached for a cluster of grapes forming part of the frame. "See how three of them are lighter than the others? Push them in this order."
He did, and a portion of the fresco sprang abruptly open, revealing itself to be a door. Gio reached inside and turned on the light. There was a closet-sized room, paneled in wood.
"Good Lord," Thea said. She had to fight not to take an involuntary step back. There was no way she could go into something like that. She would rather take her chances with the cultists.
Unaware of her distress, Gio rapped the wood with his knuckles. "Heavy wooden paneling over plate steel. The floor and ceiling are the same. It has its own power supply and ventilation, not to mention some of Mace's wards worked into the walls. It's proof against incursions by stonewalking, and can protect you through an explosion or a fire."
"Wow," Thea said with all the fake enthusiasm she could muster, resolving never to step foot into it if she could help it.
"I hope you don't mind ..." Gio reached inside, rummaged in a box on the wall, and withdrew a small automatic pistol that he tucked under his jacket.
"Really," Mace said.
"What? I'm your backup, aren't I?" Gio pushed the hidden door shut. "You know how to open it?" he asked Thea, who nodded. "Show me the pattern?"
"She's got it," Mace said. "She's very bright." While Thea was still processing the glow from this, he turned to her. "Now that you know where the saferoom is, stay inside the house with the doors closed and locked. You should be fine. We won't be gone long."
"I know," she said. "It's okay. Hurry back."
"Feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen," Gio said.
Mace placed a hand briefly on her upper arm, giving it a squeeze. The warmth and strength of his fingers lingered even after he took his hand away and put it on Gio's shoulder.
Thea had a feeling what was going to happen next, but even knowing that didn't prepare her for the way the floor's stone tiles abruptly swallowed their feet and then the rest of them. She had just enough time to glimpse Mace's face, serene with concentration, and Gio with his eyes screwed shut, clearly dreading it. At least she wasn't the only one.
And then they were gone, and she was all alone in the big, empty house.
Mace
They emerged from the concrete buttress of an overpass. The night was chilly after the relatively balmy, fragrantly flower-scented Italian air.
Mace staggered, a wave of nausea washing over him.
"I will never get used to that," Gio muttered, and then turned to frown at Mace. "Are you all right?"
"Fine," Mace said. He swallowed a couple of times and straightened his shoulders.
"You shouldn't have tried to do it so soon after being poisoned."
"It's not just that. It's the concrete too." He wiped his hand across his face and felt cold sweat. "Toronto isn't an easy place to stonewalk to. Anywhere with exposed bedrock is better. I have to really push to get here, and the targeting is difficult too."
"Where are we?"
"Hopefully, a few streets over from Thea's building." Mace checked his phone with a hand that shook slightly, bringing up a map. "Perfect. Let's get her things and get out of here. She's on the fourth floor, and I won't be able to stonewalk until I can get back in contact with the ground. I don't like that."
His phone vibrated. It was a text from Thea. Are you there?
We just arrived, he texted back. Short walk to your place. We should be back very soon.
Be safe.
It was an intimate way to sign off. At least it felt intimate. He hesitated and then replied, You too.
"So about our young archeologist," Gio said pointedly as they began to walk.
"Don't go fishing. You'll catch nothing."
"For someone who has only known you for less than a day, she seems quite worried."
"It's funny how much of a bonding experience it is, being chased by evil magicians together."
The streets had emptied out as the evening wore on, and by this time of night, he and Gio were very nearly the only people on the sidewalk. At least it would make pursuers easier to detect. He saw none, and they reached her building without incident. Mace used her key to let them in.
"Behind me," he murmured.
They went up the stairs. There was no one in the hallway on Thea's floor, so Mace shifted, hunching down and drawing in his wings so he didn't gouge chunks out of the ceiling with horns or wings.
He unlocked the door and flicked on the lights.
No darts came flying out of the bedroom doorway or the bathroom. Her apartment was small and crammed with books, like her office, and Mace had a startlingly strong sense of her presence, as if she might be just out of sight through the open bedroom door. The whole place felt powerfully of her. But that fit with what he had seen of her so far. Thea had a strong personality, and she impressed it on everything around her.
Mace breathed in the smell of books and carpet cleaner, shampoo and old cooking smells. There was no sign that anyone had been in here recently, at least as far as he could detect with his sharper-than-human gargoyle senses. Reluctantly he let the gargoyle shape go and shifted human again; it would be much easier to get Thea's list if he wasn't constantly bumping into things.
"For the record," Gio said quietly, "that hasn't stopped being weird either."
"Did I ask you to come?" Mace locked the door behind them, and looked down at the paper in his hand. "Okay, let's grab the things she wants. She says her passport and phone charger are on her desk. Why don't you get that while I pack for her."
It felt intrusive, being in her apartment without her. He wished he'd been able to talk her into coming. He knew stonewalking was disconcerting for people who weren't used to it, but he hadn't expected her to react so strongly to it.
&nbs
p; He didn't like leaving her alone and unprotected at Gio's place.
They're not after her. They're after me. She's probably safer without me around, at least for a short while.
He found Thea's suitcase where she had said it'd be, among a clutter of shoes and other items in the closet, and gathered handfuls of clothes and tossed them in. Fetching from the closet wasn't too bad, at least not too intimate, and he found himself deeply intrigued by her personal style. The 1920s newsboy look seemed to be carried out through a lot of her wardrobe; there was a general inclination toward tweeds and plaids, browns and grays, and tall argyle socks. He even found a pair of suspenders in a slender female style, as well as a variety of hats.
His phone vibrated. It was Thea again, calling this time instead of texting. He jerked away from the closet, feeling guilty even though he knew he had her permission, and answered it.
"How's it going?" Thea asked. She laughed nervously. "Sorry, I don't mean to hover."
"It's fine. We're at your apartment. I'm just packing some clothes." He paused. "Thea, I'm going to have to get your underthings—"
"Oh, stop," she scoffed. "I asked you to, remember? There's nothing magical about a woman's panties, Mace."
He felt his cheeks flame. "Speaking as a guy, that's not entirely true."
"Mace MacKay, I am ordering you to pack me some underwear so I have something clean to change into."
"Your wish is my command," he murmured, and moved over to the dresser. The top was cluttered mainly with books and a few hair things. The only jewelry she owned appeared to be some chunky silver pieces.
"Top left drawer for bras. Top right for the rest. Come on, man up," Thea said on the phone.
Mace swallowed and opened the bra drawer. He had, after all, grown up with a sister and had a few girlfriends over the years, so feminine undergarments weren't a total mystery. Somehow it made a big difference that it was Thea's underwear, though.
Her bras were plain and utilitarian, mostly black or beige.
"Do you have—preferences?" he asked, dry-mouthed.
"Just pick something, I don't care what."