Gemstones, Elves, and Other Insidious Magic (Dowser 9)

by Meghan Ciana Doidge

  A golden glow softened all the hard edges in the room. I drained the glass of water. The apartment felt empty of magic, other than Gran’s and the wards. “Where is everybody?”

  “What?” my Gran said, huffily playful. She plucked the empty glass out of my hand and hustled toward the door. “Am I not good enough?”

  I shook my head at her retreating back, listening as she traversed the hall toward the kitchen.

  Crispy cinnamon toast tickled my senses. Without looking, I reached up to the shadow leech, who had just appeared on my headboard, tickling her in return under the chin.

  “Hey, Freddie,” I whispered. “You hungry?”

  The leech leaned down, nuzzling my ear and purring.

  Gran hustled back into the bedroom, holding a tray. She paused, eyeing the leech with displeasure.

  Freddie folded in her wings, wrapping her magic tightly to herself.

  “You know where your food is,” Gran said crossly. “You don’t need to bother Jade while she’s healing. I left you three charms. And one is from Burgundy. I know you prefer her magic.”

  Freddie took flight, zooming through the door and buzzing Gran in the process. The head of the Convocation shook her head, feigning disgruntlement — and completely ignoring my stunned expression.

  “You … you’re feeding Freddie? Wait — you can see Freddie?”

  Gran hustled over to the bed, placing the tray over my lap. The smell of homemade turkey soup wafted up, momentarily distracting me from interrogating her. My stomach grumbled.

  My grandmother huffed, pleased. Then she ruined our bonding moment by tucking a napkin into my tank-top neckline and trying to feed me.

  I took the spoon from her. Ignoring the way my hand trembled, I took a sip of the hot soup. “I missed Christmas. And turkey.”

  “But not the soup,” Gran said, straightening the already perfectly straight duvet and sheets.

  “Tell me everything I don’t know,” I asked, taking another sip. Then another. The soup was doing a surprisingly good job of slowly soothing away my regrets over missing the holidays.

  “Such as?”

  I reached for the dinner roll on the tray. It was warm, braided into a rosette. My grandmother’s baking. I tore it apart and buttered it. “What happened after, with the stadium? Your wards held?”

  “Of course they did. No one outside them heard, saw, or felt a thing.” Gran finally settled down beside me, folding her hands in her lap. Witch magic glinted from her rings. I’d never seen her wear so much jewelry or so much magic at once. “The guardians cleaned up their mess. As they should have. The treasure keeper. Haoxin, once she was up and about again. And the one to whom Warner owes fealty.”

  Fealty? “Jiaotu.”

  “Yes.” Gran’s lips twisted. Apparently, the guardian of Northern Europe had made a bad impression. “Couldn’t spare a word for any of those who covered for his brethren’s rampage. He sauntered around the stadium, what was left of it, three times. Counterclockwise.” Gran sneered.

  I offered her one of the sugar cookies that accompanied my lunch, shaped and decorated like a Christmas tree. It was cool to the touch. Gran must have frozen some of her holiday baking so I wouldn’t miss out.

  I tucked my chin to my chest, covering a well of emotion.

  Gran touched my hand gently, then took the cookie from me. “You’re still healing, Jade.”

  I nodded, pressing the napkin to the corners of my eyes. Then I took another comforting sip of soup.

  Gran nibbled on the cookie, taking up her narrative with more gusto. “I must admit, though, the guardian’s magic was impressive. His illusions were spectacular enough that the sorcerers and I could allow our shielding to fade. Then the city remained blissfully ignorant of the destruction of the stadium while Blossom oversaw the repairs.”

  “Blossom repaired the entire stadium?”

  Gran chuckled. “No. She had a legion of brownies at her command. And it was done within a week.”

  “And … the elves?”

  “Gone. Without a trace. Through the gateway, according to Mory, or crumbled into nothing.”

  I nodded, feeling saddened for all those I’d killed. Everyone who would have chosen to die in their own lands, if they’d had the choice.

  “Tony is still monitoring the situation,” Gran said, watching me intently.

  “Monitoring?”

  She waved the hand she held the half-eaten cookie in. “Social media sites and such. For chatter. Just in case anyone reports having seen something they shouldn’t have. But I doubt anyone could have seen through the magic we held that day.”

  “How long, Gran?” I asked, knowing it was the only question I really wanted answered.

  “For the cleanup? Under a week, like I said.”

  “No.” I set my spoon down, suddenly feeling full. “How long have I been in bed? Haoxin said it had been weeks.”

  “It takes as long as it takes, Jade. For you to be … back to normal.”

  I met her blue-eyed gaze, feeling the tears welling in my own eyes again. “What if I never am? Normal?”

  Gran stood, taking the tray and setting it on top of the bureau. “You’re tired. I shouldn’t have pushed you with a full meal.”

  “What’s the date, Gran?”

  My grandmother stepped back, holding the covers up so I could settle back down into the bed. I did, but only because I was tired.

  “The date?” I asked again.

  Gran smoothed her fingers across my cheek. “I’m so, so glad you are here, my granddaughter. When Warner pulled you out of the …” Her words hitched with emotion. “You mean … everything to me. Everything.” She leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. “January 30. Sleep some more, darling. When you’re ready, you’ll get up. That’s how life works. We keep moving.”

  She stepped back to retrieve the tray while my mind boggled over how much time I’d lost … to Reggie and to healing.

  Gran paused at the door, looking back at me. “I’m so proud of you, Jade. So proud of the life you have built, and the strength with which you defend it. But I pray every day that I never lay eyes on your lifeless body again. I’m not certain I could survive it. I’m not certain I would want to.”

  “Gran.”

  “Sleep. I’ll watch over you until you can take care of yourself again. And I have no doubt you will be able to do so. Soon.”

  She left without another word. I closed my eyes, tracking the taste of her magic and allowing the sounds of her bustling around in the kitchen to lull me to sleep. As I’d done as a child.

  The room was empty and brightly lit when I next woke. I swung my legs off the bed, compelled to leave it behind me. I stood, unsteadily. And after struggling to change into a clean tank top and my cupcake pajama bottoms, I made my way down to the bakery.

  To my kitchen.

  My haven.

  I should have showered. Brushed my teeth. I should have stretched, done yoga, made certain that everyone was okay.

  But I wanted, I needed, to bake.

  The storefront was empty. It was well past opening hour, so it must have been a Monday. The entire bakery felt almost … lifeless. As if it were slumbering.

  But there was butter and cream cheese in the fridge. And eggs from Rochelle. A precious half-dozen, though her deathlayer hens hadn’t been laying through the winter.

  I found myself wondering if the oracle had sent the eggs because she’d seen me baking in a vision. Then I threw my head back and laughed at the idea.

  The magic of the wards responded, caressing me. I ran my hand across the pristinely clean stainless steel counter as I crossed toward the pantry, collecting cocoa, vanilla, sugar, and flour.

  I owed Gabby and Mory a cupcake. Something with raspberry and a marshmallow topping.

  But not today.

  Today, I was baking just for me.

  I had the first dozen dark-chocolate-cake cupcakes in the oven when Kandy came barreling down the stairs from the uppe
r apartment. She laughed breathlessly when she saw me.

  “I step away for one minute …” She shook her head. Her towel-dried hair — still pink — flapped around her face. She got herself a stool from the office and perched on the other side of my workstation. The bright pink hair was crazy cute on her, but I didn’t say so. Because paired with faded-black skinny jeans, a black T-shirt, and the three-inch-thick gold cuffs, I was fairly certain the werewolf was trying to be edgy. I didn’t want to ruin that for her.

  I mixed up another round of cake batter.

  Warner arrived next. Dressed in jeans and a printed T-shirt, he swung me into his arms and danced me around the kitchen while Kandy screamed at him to be gentle. The T-shirt was emblazoned with the text ‘Looking good since 1507.’ Kandy’s handiwork.

  “Let her finish icing the cupcakes, at least!”

  Warner laughed huskily, then whispered in my ear, “I’m planning a surprise.”

  “For me?”

  He grinned, stole a plain cupcake, then wandered into the office to make phone calls. Though first, he dragged my desk across the floor to the right, so he could maintain a direct line of sight to me through the open door. I caught snippets of his hushed conversations as he spoke to my mother, then to Gran. I couldn’t get enough to figure out the surprise, though.

  I flicked my gaze to Kandy. “I scared you. All of you.”

  She shrugged, beckoning for me to give her the beater currently covered in dark-chocolate cream-cheese icing. “You know what it’s like. You’ve been on our side of that. Watching us dying.”

  The wards shifted, announcing Kett with a tingle of peppermint across my palate just before he slipped into the bakery kitchen through the exterior alley door. He stood just inside, watching me.

  I frosted a half-dozen cupcakes. Then I smiled at him.

  An answering smile ghosted across his face. Then he wandered into the office, had a muted conversation with Warner, and retrieved another stool.

  He cast a cool gaze across my no-longer-quite-so-pristine workstation. “How many cupcakes were you planning to make, dowser?”

  “Shut your wicked trap, vampire,” Kandy snarled.

  I laughed quietly, feeling tired but … contented. “Are Jasmine and Benjamin doing okay?”

  “She’s watching him,” Kett said. “We’re being careful around risings.”

  “Teresa still wants to put that bracelet back on him?” Kandy narrowed her eyes at Kett.

  He ignored her, speaking to me. “It’s a transition period.”

  My BFFs had obviously been bickering about the feeding and care of Benjamin Garrick.

  I smiled at them.

  “What?” Kandy asked snarkily.

  I slid a frosted cupcake across the stainless steel workstation toward her. She fell on it like it was a lifeline to heaven and she was drowning in a sea of death and destruction. “It’s going to take more than one, dowser.”

  An image seared across my brain …

  Slowly decomposing elf corpses littered throughout the stadium …

  Their lives thrown away, sacrificed to my sword by their leader …

  Hundreds dead …

  I blinked, forcing the image away. I was holding my jade knife, not the metal spatula I’d been using to frost cupcakes just a moment before.

  Kandy and Kett were gazing at me steadily. My werewolf BFF smiled kindly. Kett stood, reaching across the cupcakes spread between us, then ghosting his cool fingers across the back of my hand.

  I took a shuddering breath. Then another.

  I loosened my grip on my knife. It disappeared. I wasn’t wearing my sheath.

  Kett settled back onto the stool. Kandy grunted happily, eating the last couple of bites of her cupcake.

  I took another breath. Then I started frosting cupcakes again.

  Warner wandered back into the kitchen from the office, looking pleased with himself. I fed him a cupcake and he looked even more pleased, leaning back against the counter while he ate it, brushing his shoulder against mine.

  Someone knocked on the door to the alley. Someone the wards hadn’t announced. I couldn’t get a read on who it was, except to know they weren’t human.

  There weren’t many people who could hide their magic from me in such a fashion. But oddly, I wasn’t worried.

  Warner, Kandy, and Kett stilled. Their every sense was now trained on the door, like predators homed in on prey.

  “Come in,” I said. The magic of the wards shifted.

  An elf stepped through into the kitchen, sweeping her glittering green-eyed gaze across Warner, Kett, and Kandy — then immediately dismissing them. She settled on me. A smile tugged at the edges of her lips.

  Alivia.

  It was probably my pajama pants that amused her.

  “You didn’t make it through the gateway?”

  “I didn’t.”

  I gazed at her for a moment. The elf had ditched her gem-crusted clothing for perfectly pressed navy wool pants, a plaid wool coat, and an azure silk scarf. It was an outfit worthy of — and possibly purchased directly from — the Holt Renfrew display window.

  No one spoke. The others were obviously waiting on me to set the tone of the conversation. But, to me, Alivia had already proven herself an ally. And now, stranded on this side of the gateway, she was standing in my bakery, presenting herself. The least I could do, after everything she’d done for us, was to treat her as I would any other Adept. Plus, despite the rampant bloodletting in the stadium, I always preferred to default to being kind. And to cupcakes, of course.

  “Would you like a cupcake?”

  Alivia looked startled, then pleased. “Yes. Thank you.”

  I picked up a cupcake, offering it to her. “Dark-chocolate cake with dark-chocolate cream-cheese icing.”

  She took the treat, hesitating. “I … might have to stay for a while. I might like to … or have the option to, choose to stay forever.”

  I laughed. “Try the cupcake first. Then we’ll talk.”

  She looked concerned. “My … asylum depends on a cupcake?”

  “You peel the paper off first. Before eating it.”

  She blinked. Then she peeled the cupcake wrapper away from the cake, carefully collecting crumbs in her palm. She bit into the cupcake. Her eyes widened.

  “Oh, my,” she breathed. “What is this?”

  “Lust in a Cup, sweet cheeks,” Kandy crowed. Then she snatched herself a second cupcake.

  Warner reached past me, offering his hand to the ward builder, though his mood was restrained. “Thank you. Mory said you held a shield over her and Jade when the first section of roof collapsed.”

  Alivia stiffened, not accepting Warner’s hand. “I was seeing to my people.”

  I laughed. “A smaller casting might have been easier to hold, then. One that didn’t cover Mory and me as well.”

  “Perhaps.” The elf smiled tightly. Then, after another tentative glance at all of us, she reached into the pocket of her coat and pulled out a large milky-white gemstone. The stone she’d brought to Reggie. The stone that had fixed the gateway, made it fully operational.

  I met her gaze. “You closed the gateway.”

  “No. It was already compromised.”

  “You freed me from the gateway.”

  Alivia cleared her throat. “I … simply contained the situation.”

  “I didn’t see you there, elf,” Warner said darkly.

  “You were rather occupied.” Alivia turned the stone in her hand, gazing down at it. “And then, I wasn’t sure what my status would be if Jade … didn’t survive.” She looked up to meet my gaze. Then she offered the gemstone to me as if she might have been offering up a piece of her heart. A piece of her home. Like Mira’s black-sand beach.

  I shook my head. “That belongs to you. With you.”

  “The gateway has been disassembled and destroyed by the treasure keeper,” Warner said bluntly.

  Alivia nodded. “I would expect nothing less.”
/>
  “Thank you,” I said, reaching out to shake the ward builder’s hand. “You saved my life.”

  Alivia took my hand, squeezing. “I believe that was your kin, Jade.”

  I laughed quietly. Apparently, the elf wasn’t interested in gratitude. Even I could take a hint, if it was repeated enough times. So I stepped back, angling my body toward my fiance. “Warner Jiaotuson, sentinel of the instruments of assassination,” I said. “This is Alivia, ward builder … ambassador for the elves.”

  Warner reached toward the elf again. This time, she took his offered hand.

  Kett and Kandy crossed around the stainless steel workstation, already holding their hands out to the ward builder.

  “And Pulou thought cupcakes and peace treaty talks were a waste of time,” I groused.

  By the time I’d finished baking, Warner had to carry me to bed, leaving the cleanup to Blossom. But this time, he crawled in with me. Treating me to his own brand of gentle, healing magic.

  13

  I woke alone. Before I made any movement, before I stretched to document what parts of my body were working and what had yet to be fully healed, I reached out with my dowser senses. Seeking, tasting, every drop of magic in the building. As if summoned by that casual sensing, the hilt of my jade knife slipped into my right hand. My katana — the elf slayer — appeared in my left hand. The weapons, along with the weight of my necklace resting across my breastbone, murmured under my touch. Extensions of me, of my physical body and of my magic.

  I reached farther, finding Mory’s toasted marshmallow magic in the living room. The necromancer was most likely curled up on the healing chair that Haoxin had given me. While knitting, of course. My mother had deemed the chair too large for my bedroom, but said it was perfectly gaudy when paired with the worn leather couch in the living room. I had no idea that ‘perfectly gaudy’ was a thing.

  Kandy’s bittersweet chocolate and my mother’s strawberry magic were in my second bedroom. I had the distinct feeling that Warner had roped them into whatever he was planning. Though my birthday was still two weeks away, so I was fairly certain sixteenth century wasn’t planning a surprise party.