One Good Wand

by Grace McGuiness

  “Stay where you are,” the Chisel commanded. I knew well that he didn’t need a wand to do considerable magic, but there was a wand in his hand now, sleek and polished. “Ms. Hargitay tells me she doesn’t have the wand. You have no jurisdiction to arrest someone who isn’t in possession of a misappropriated implement.”

  “According to the amended articles, I may take her into custody for questioning should there be overwhelming evidence against her.” He took another step.

  A green bolt of magic sizzled like water on a hot stove at Egeus’s feet. “State the evidence.”

  “You are not a judge,” Egeus said flatly. “Your standing among magical guardians holds no sway in Folk Court.”

  “According to those samesaid amended articles, the accused has a right to hear the evidence against her before she is taken into custody.” Say what you might for his frigid personality, but the Chisel knew his legal footwork.

  Egeus cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Very well. One, the wand belonging to Maysie Browning Fife was never relinquished upon her retirement. Two, Maysie Browning Fife failed to appear at summons to do so. Three, the three days allotted for an agent of WHIRA to request and apprehend the implement passed with no sign of the implement. Four—”

  “Such occurrences have nothing to do with Ms. Hargitay. Those facts may be used to take Miss Maysie into custody, but not her apprentice.” He was winning me over one rebuttal at a time.

  “Four,” Egeus continued as if uninterrupted, “we have determined the energy signature belonging to the implement in question is still present at the retired’s place of business. Five, that same signature is all over Miss Hargitay.”

  “A natural occurrence if her mentor had used the wand on her more than once in a short span of time.”

  “Six, when ordered to relinquish the implement, the woman in question ran from authorities. Seven, when she ran, it was to lead them into a troll trap.”

  “I was scared,” I interjected. “And I had no idea there was a troll on that bridge!”

  “Eight, within the elapsed time, the implement’s energy signature has faded from its previous space and grown in those inhabited by the godmother in question—her home, in particular.”

  A chill raced down my arms. “You went to my house?”

  The Chisel broke eye contact with Egeus to glance at me. “You were not present when this happened? That’s illegal search.” His stone-faced glare returned to the blond nymph. “Your overseer won’t be pleased about that.”

  “Time supersedes owner presence,” Egeus refuted. “Nine, the godmother sought to falsify evidence, giving into custody a false wand to deter the retrieval squad from completing its mission.”

  I stepped out around the Chisel, my fear edging ever closer to the kind of explosive rage that only Danny ever roused in me. “Only because you wouldn’t believe me when I said I didn’t have it! Because you threatened me. Because you made me afraid for my safety!” The ground around my feet leapt into purple relief. The light emanated from my shaking hands, a deep, rich purple with no hint of gold whatsoever. It swirled and leapt like smoke, dancing to its own tune.

  “I warn you, Godmother,” Egeus said, eyeing my hands with the same kind of flat emotion the troll had wrought in him. “I am authorized to respond to violence with violence.”

  “Like hell you will,” Mueller said from behind me on the right. I had no idea when he’d arrived, but I was glad he had. Not only was he safe, but I felt better with him at my back. “She has no clue what she’s doing with magic. Which you would have figured out if you had actually talked to her instead of demanding things she can’t give you.”

  The Chisel sidestepped closer to me. Close enough to run the backs of his fingers down my arm. With a shiver, the purple smoke blinked out like it had never been. To Mueller, he whispered, “Get her out of here.”

  “I will not be deterred—” Egeus began. The rest of his brethren sizzled into being behind him, flanking him as surely as the Chisel and Mueller flanked me. Except there were a lot more of them than there were of us. Even the woman, Astera, stood there, wheezing and dripping yellow-tinted blood, but as determined-looking as the rest of them. “Let me rephrase. We will not be deterred from doing our duty. Not by a mundane, a free godmother, and a member of the Family, no matter how well placed. The Rules override all!”

  As if that were a battle cry, the seven of them lit with yellow-gold light. Well, six. The short guy in the back looked like he should be making shields for the ancient Greeks, his bronze was so shiny. Danger rippled off all of them, but no more so than it did from the Chisel. His green light was brighter, stronger than any of theirs, and I had a feeling that my boss had been right—for all that they objected to the term, these were just minions. Lesser beings doing the bidding of a more powerful group of people. Which didn’t make them any less dangerous…

  “You can’t take all seven by yourself,” I insisted, wanting to pull the Chisel away but afraid his magic would burn me if I touched him. His suit looked as emerald as Ireland through the glow.

  “I’m not.” He stepped around me again, placing himself between me and the threat. “I have the backing of the entire Family at my disposal. Whatever happens here, they will repay it with all the vehemence and precision we are known for. Get her out of here, Mr. Mueller.”

  Mueller answered by slinging me over his shoulder and carrying me away so fast, I didn’t have time to object.

  Chapter 34

  Yellow and green exploded behind us.

  “No!” I beat at Mueller’s back with my fists. “Mueller, stop! We can’t let him do this!”

  “What are you going to do, exactly? Throw smoke at them? Beat them with your tiny fists of fury?” He set me down outside the blast radius, though I had no idea how he could tell where that was. When I tried to run, he wrapped his arms around my middle and refused to let go. Unfortunately for me, he was bigger and stronger. By a lot.

  “I can use the wand. Not well, but I can try.”

  “That’s what they want, Tessa. To force you to show your hand. Then they can take the wand and lock you up forever. Is that what you want?”

  I collapsed over his arms, holding in my sobs only barely. “But what if they kill him?”

  “He’s the freaking Chisel, Tessa. He doesn’t strike me as the type to fall easy.”

  I sank to my knees on the warm, dry prairie dirt, forcing Mueller to kneel with me. “I can’t let him do this.”

  “His choice.”

  My stomach gremlin roared. “Bullshit,” I spat. “I have spent the last decade with a man making decisions and expecting me to live with them. This is my life, and my choice. I didn’t choose to be a godmother, but I will damn well choose to stand up for myself!”

  Before Mueller could grab me back, I rolled through his arms and came up running. How did I know how to do that? I chose not to question. I dashed back across the field, my sneakers raising plumes of earth that turned purple before they fell back again. A yellow arrow zinged past my head. A bronze scythe narrowly missed cutting my legs out from under me, spinning just perfectly to swing around me instead of through me. That made me want to rethink my choice.

  But no. I was committed. This was my fight. Maybe I wasn’t the one who had put me on this path, but so what? They wanted me, they could have me. No prince was going to fight my battles while I slept on the sidelines.

  I leapt over an electric arc and hit the ground hard, falling to one knee. Egeus stood a few feet away, his attention focused wholly on the Chisel. And my goodness, I had never seen anything so insanely sexy as that man right then, his eyes shining with the same green light that created a sparking, convex shield around him; his suit rippling around his strong frame as the nymph’s combined maelstrom bore down on him. Heat flared through me, adding a red tint to the purple, making me glow from head to foot like a very angry lava lamp.

  “Egeus!” I shouted, my voice barely carrying over the roar of the wind. I leaned
into it as Egeus turned his gale on me, refusing to bow. “I’m the one you want, right? Come and get me.”

  And like that, the wand was in my hand, its spiral cool in the heat rushing over my skin. Gold began to seep into the swirl of my magic, coming out in bubbles and shooting stars. I raised it, expecting to see a look of triumph flash across the squad leader’s face. Except it didn’t happen.

  Instead, the sky darkened as a shadow passed in front of the sun. A heavy, drawing beat drew through the air as two enormous wings carried the dragon out of the sky to land with a heavy, earth-shaking thud close enough to eat every single one of us. Its scales glistened black and wet in the afternoon sun, as if we had interrupted its bath. The beast roared, forcing all nine of us to clap our hands over our ears.

  Instinct sent me to the Chisel’s side even as I searched the field for Mueller. He was nowhere to be seen. Better that way. I didn’t want him dying for me, either.

  The nymphs whirled on the dragon, forming a line and grasping hands. Their magic joined, too, coalescing into a wall of yellow-gold light. Poor Shorty was left out, a darker counterpoint all by himself. A weakness in the magical chain, perhaps. Weak on his own. He knew it as much as the dragon did. As its head whipped forward, jaws opening, the bronze nymph stood his ground without flinching.

  “No!” I screamed for him. Pointing the wand at the dragon’s head, I willed it to do its worst.

  Its worst was…disappointing. It let loose a flood of purple-gold butterflies. They fluttered and flitted at the dragon, swirling around its nose and drawing it up short. Instead of eating the bronze nymph, the dragon sneezed all over him. The nymph flew several paces back with the force of the sneeze, where he stuck in a thick layer of mucous.

  Several of the nymphs looked at me over their shoulders, wide-eyed in surprise. What, was I supposed to let the poor guy get eaten? Is that what most godmothers did? What the hell kind of screwed up world was this?

  I charged forward, intending to somehow combine all our magic. The Chisel had managed to hold off the dragon last time, but only barely. Driving it off now would take more than he had, I was sure.

  I hadn’t moved more than a step when the dragon reared its long neck back like a viper ready to strike. Instead of trying to eat anyone else, it opened its mouth and spewed purple flame over the ground, effectively separating the nymphs from the Chisel and me, along with the bronze nymph struggling to free himself. The heat of the flames drew sweat instantly. The deep, dark purple of those flames with their black centers drowned out the light of my own color, making it look like a sad, pathetic lavender by comparison.

  The Chisel grabbed my hand, pulling me backward just as a second line of flames erupted in front of me. His magic enveloped me in the coolness of a spring day, but it didn’t dispel my horror as I watched the dragon snatch two of the nymphs in its jaws. Rather than swallowing them, it leapt into the air and soared away, leaving us all to deal with the purple flames rapidly growing into a brushfire. Even a mundane fire grew quickly in a Colorado July, and these were no ordinary flames. Before I knew it, I couldn’t see anything but smoke. Good thing I had hold of the Chisel, or I would be completely lost.

  “What now?” I asked, moments before a coughing spasm wracked my body.

  He was silent for a few seconds before he answered, “We need wings.”

  “Please tell me you have a couple spare sets somewhere in that wonderful suit of yours.” My eyes were watering now, my lungs tightening as the fire inched closer. Most of it was headed toward the nymphs, I realized, drawn to the fuel of their air magic.

  “I do not.” I heard defeat in his tone even as he raised his head with regal acceptance.

  “You can’t make wings? Everything else you can do, and you can’t make us fly?”

  “There are limits to all magic. Mine is the magic of the earth. No flying for me.”

  That left it up to me. What was my magic made of? I had no freaking clue. Smoke? Fire, like the dragon’s? Not super helpful, unless I could figure out how to turn myself into a dragon, too.

  Then again, I had given Mueller a tail. Maybe I could give the Chisel a pair of wings?

  I lifted the wand, trying to think of a good spell. What rhymed with ‘wings?’ Dings. Things. Rings. Maybe it was the smoke, but I couldn’t seem to get beyond that.

  Stupid nymphs. They should be using their magic to blow the smoke away, to drive the fire…oh. Away from them was toward us. Which meant all we needed to do was stay ahead of it. Right? I couldn’t think.

  “Come on,” I said, pulling the Chisel in the direction I thought we should go. Purple flames leapt up in front of us almost immediately. “Uh, this way.” I chose another direction. Same thing.

  “It’s no good,” the Chisel said, his English accent growing ever so faintly Irish. Or maybe that was the smoke clouding my ears. “It circled us. Smart fire.”

  Something about calling the fire smart made me giggle. And once I started, I couldn’t stop. I doubled over, laughing hysterically and sucking in even more smoke with each inhale.

  The Chisel sat down beside me, pulling me against his chest. He was warm, but still cool. Comfortable. My eyelids drooped as my laughter faded. Sleep sounded wonderful. My hand let go of the Chisel’s even though I didn’t mean to.

  “Hold on, Tessa,” he said, and now I was sure he was as Irish as O’Toole.

  His sentiment was in direct conflict with the song playing in my head. Faint strains of that popular song, all tinny and strange, but drawing closer. The song of a chilly queen who finally found a way to be herself. That should have been my song. A song of triumphant beginnings. Instead, I was going to die here, devoured by a dragon like a piece of extra-crisp bacon. At least I had helped Amy. She had a job and maybe a boy. And my mom was awake. That was something. Something good. Worthwhile.

  Not a failure anymore. Just in time.

  The music continued, louder now. “That is really annoying,” I murmured into the Chisel’s breast pocket. His magic was keeping out the smoke now, so I could breathe even if I couldn’t keep my eyes open. “Somebody turn it—” And then, with a gust of fresh air blowing in a bronze halo around us, I remembered.

  I shot to my feet, got light-headed, then pulled the Chisel up with me. Using the bronze halo as a guide, I found Shorty the nymph still half-encased in hardening mucous. The Chisel blasted him out in time for the roar of an engine to interrupt the tinny music. Holding the wand aloft, I shot a purple-gold flare straight up, high in the sky.

  Not five seconds later, Mueller’s SUV skidded to a halt in front of us. Mueller threw open the passenger door, looking every inch a tattered super hero. “Come with me if you want to live.”

  We piled into the messy vehicle and Mueller tore away from the flames with zeal.

  “Mueller,” I said, coughing purple smoke from my lungs. “I could kiss you!”

  “Come on, Hargitay,” he said, keeping his eyes on the uneven terrain. “Not in front of the Chisel.”

  How Mueller had managed to get his SUV through the trees, I had no idea. All I knew was that if he hadn’t, we would have been barbeque. No doubt the dragon would then circle back and enjoy us for dinner. Ah, human in the summertime. Or…whatever the Chisel was. Probably just as tasty to a sky-blotting, purple-flame-spewing dragon, whatever sort of magical Folk creature he was.

  We made it to the factory with no further distress. The bronze nymph shook all of our hands enthusiastically, thanking us over and over again and promising to put a good word in for us at WHIRA. He kept saying, “Refreshingly modern,” though I had no idea if he were talking about the car, our methods, or what. Nor did he elaborate. As soon as he had enough space, he did a little jig, hopped into the air, and was gone.

  I was too exhausted, my eyes and lungs still burning from the smoke, to say much of anything. Not even to tell the Chisel he didn’t need to stick around. From what I gathered in all of our dealings, he was a busy, important man. I figured he had more weighty thi
ngs to see to than my safety. Still, he brought up the rear when Mueller led the way into the factory.

  Egeus was waiting for me in the main hallway, his arms folded across his singed button-up shirt and charred tie. “I will not be deterred from completing my mission, Miss Hargitay.”

  Without warning, Mueller threw himself at the taller, more slender man-nymph like a linebacker. Egeus merely sidestepped and flicked a jolt of electricity at Mueller, knocking my would-be protector to the floor where he lay motionless. Vibrations in the walls suggested the nymph’s magic had jumpstarted at least some of the nearby machines.

  “Mueller!” I started to dart forward, but the sound - no, the feeling - of a brewing electrical storm stopped me.

  Egeus’s yellow light tinted blue, like a candle with a too-short wick. Sparks of electricity sizzled across the floor between my fallen friend and me, effectively blocking all attempts to help. “The wand, Miss Hargitay. I have no idea how you did it without presenting the wand itself, but I know you used it. Relinquish it, and then prepare yourself for arrest for assaulting WHIRA agents.”

  “She did nothing of the sort,” the Chisel protested, advancing. “That argument is with me. And the dragon.”

  “She intended harm, and would have committed such had the dragon not intervened. That is as good as attacking.”

  “Where is your proof? That burden falls to you, Egeus, and no one else. No judge on the Court will agree that you are in the right with such circumstantial—”

  “I can prove she used the wand,” he said, pulling a smart phone from his pants pocket. The video he played back showed me shooting the purple-gold flare into the sky. “That is the godmother in question, and that is her magic drawing on a secondary power source. That is all the proof I need.”

  “Play that again,” the Chisel demanded. While Egeus fumbled with the buttons on the phone, my remaining protector came up behind me and whispered, “When I give you the signal, run.” Addressing Egeus again, he said, louder, “Those mundane contraptions are such a difficulty. Helpful in the moment, but far more trouble than they’re worth.” He inched out in front of me, his dusty oxfords mere centimeters from the sparking lines.