by Gina LaManna
“What does the Master of Magic do?”
“These are the threads that stitch the universal magic consciousness together. He guides, maintains, balances.”
“He controls all magic?”
Gerry looked at me sharply. “He never controls anything. It’s not in his nature to control, but to guide and shape and balance. The balance, Lily. Good and evil, light and dark, laughter and sadness, hope and fear. Magic brings many things to our world, and it all hangs in a precarious balance.”
I swallowed. “I don’t understand.”
“Nobody does, not fully.” Gerry crossed his hands before his body, watching the flickering display once more. “Just because he does not control, does not take away from his power.”
“Is he a wizard?”
Gerry frowned. “No.”
“What is he?”
“The Master of Magic. There is nothing like it.” Gerry pressed his hand to the glass siding once more and set us off, traveling back toward the stairwell. “That is exactly all he is. No more, and no less.”
When the glass platform returned to the side of the abyss, Gerry disembarked and then stood waiting as I remained behind. I felt drawn to the edge, thirsted for more of this. The light, the magic, the intensity of it all.
“It’s beautiful,” I whispered, feeling the unwelcome sting of tears in my eyes. “I don’t understand it, but it’s...”
“Beautiful and horrible and wonderful,” he agreed. Then, with a new crispness to his voice, he waved a hand toward the depths of the cavern. “One tug of the wrong thread, Lily, and your heart would stop. Now come, we’re done here for the day.”
I let Gerry pull me from the platform and back down the staircase until we reached the Master’s office. Then with a flick of his hand and a grasp of my wrist, we Evaporated into a warm and cozy little space, a small room furnished with red squashy couches and warm, autumn colors popping against a pale wall. A fire roared just behind me, and I stepped forward in surprise, feeling the heat on my back.
“Welcome to the only inn in Olympia,” Gerry said, much like an elevator attendant. And then he vanished.
“There you are.” A smiling woman stood behind the desk, her hair in tight ringlets. “I’m Diana, one of Ceres’s.”
“Ceres?” I’d barely finished processing my visit with Gerry before I felt blindsided again. “Ceres?”
“I know, we mostly have the Greeks around here, but there are a few Romans scattered in the mix, too.” She grinned, her face glowing far brighter than the auras around Lucy, Derby, or any of the other locals I’d seen. “I checked your cousin into the room upstairs. Would you like to join her? I’ll have your bags sent up...er, you don’t have bags. I can have dinner prepared if you’d like?”
“Oh, that would be wonderful.” I rested a hand apologetically on my stomach. “I haven’t had a thing to eat all day.”
Her face brightened more around her full pink cheeks. “Of course! I’ve just prepared some dinner for myself as a matter of fact—loads of it, and it’s not like I need to eat all of it.” She fondly patted a healthy-sized stomach. “Will you join me? I was just about to take my break.”
I glanced at the darkness outside, figured Poppy was probably sleeping already, or near it. Either way, I needed to eat, and I was desperate to learn more from Diana about her ancestors.
As the name Ceres flitted through my head, I felt the amulet weighing heavy around my neck. The closer I stepped to Diana, the warmer it grew, the brighter it glowed. A faded yellow sheen, quite similar to the halo around Diana’s face. I took its happy hum and pleasant glow as a sign that my feet—and stomach—had pulled me in the right direction.
Diana invited me to sit at a small table in the living area, so I did, enjoying the fire crackling merrily behind us as she poured a deep, soulful burgundy wine into our glasses. A light tinkle of piano music flitted in the background.
The food itself was incredible. I ate until I should have been embarrassed, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop. Meats and cheese and olives, salads and pastas, bits and bobbles of side dishes and sweets. Dessert was coffee and a slice of cake, and it was only then that I realized I’d been so busy eating I’d barely touched my glass of wine.
Diana sat back looking satisfied and smiled. “So, what brings you here? I know you’re traveling with your cousin, and you’ve got Gerry’s undies in a real bunch, so you must be important.”
I laughed. “I would not say I’m important, just that I’m needed here. Or so they tell me. I’m actually not quite sure why yet.”
Diana topped off her wine glass and sipped slowly. As she did, I weighed the pros and cons of taking a risk: The amulet was heavier than ever around my neck, but I’d kept it tucked under my sweater and safely hidden. I wondered if Diana would recognize it if I revealed it to her.
There was only one way to find out.
Reaching for the chain around my neck, I pulled out the amulet and rested it against my chest. I said no more, letting the glowing heart shine for itself as I watched Diana for her reaction.
Her eyes changed first. They widened and hinted at alarm as she focused on the heart around my neck. Then her hands gripped the table and her body froze still as death. “You have the amulet.”
When her gaze made its way to mine, I hesitated, then nodded. “I’m beginning to think so. It was given to me by my mother.”
“Of course it was,” she whispered. “Where did she get it?”
“I don’t know. She’s dead.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“My aunts reunited both halves of the amulet on the day they told me I was a witch.” I clasped a hand around it, amused for a brief moment thinking back over those early days, my shock and awe and fright at the declaration. Now, my witchiness was the least of my problems. “They told me it was to protect me. They told me a tale of its origin.”
Diana nodded, her hand extended. At the last second, she hesitated. “May I?”
“Yes, of course.”
“A long time ago, it belonged to my mother.” Diana’s fingers lightly gripped the heart charm. She smiled when her fingers connected with the metal. “I saw you staring at my Heritage when I mentioned Ceres’s name—I wondered why, and now I know.”
“Your heritage?”
“Ah, right. The glow you see around my face, around our faces. It’s called Heritage. The closer one is related to the Twelve, the more attached they become to Olympia. The more attached, the stronger the glow.” She twirled a hand around her face. “As you can see, I’ve got a strong Heritage.”
“This necklace—it’s not as simple a story as my aunts thought?”
“It is a protective charm as they suggested, originally from Hecate, but this one is a more particular variety than they’d ever bargained for.” Diana let her fingers caress the charm one last time, then withdrew them to her side of the table. “You are wearing a very special heirloom. There is only one true amulet like this in existence.”
“What does it mean?” I gestured downward at the changing shade of light. The necklace glowed a fierce orange now, vibrant and solid. I could hardly see the shape of the heart for the thickness of the glow. “What’s happening to it?”
“It’s found its way home. I’m a familiar face, Lily.” Diana smiled at the necklace as if it were a beloved child. “It’s part of the prophecy.”
“Prophecy?” This wasn’t the first time I’d heard the word thrown around. I hadn’t thought much of it since Liam’s proclamation, but I’d far from forgotten it. “Do you know the prophecy?”
“I know of the prophecy, though I hadn’t realized it would be fulfilled so soon.” She hesitated. “Then again, it makes sense. The Master’s been hard at work these last few years. Uncharacteristically so.”
“What do you mean?”
“His time is nearing an end, I believe. We can all see it. I am thinking this prophecy must have something to do with the relationship between you both.”
&
nbsp; A tremble rocked my spine, skittered across my skin. “You mean this Master is retiring?”
“Honey.” Diana’s expression filled with pity. “This isn’t a job one can retire from. You see, there can only be one Master of Magic at a time. While one lives in power, the other...passes on. It’s not a sad thing, honey, you poor thing. You’re shaking.”
“I came here to protect him. I’m—I’m the one who’s supposed to stop that from happening. Are you saying I’m destined to fail?” I shook my head. “I don’t believe it. I’m not giving up that easily.”
“I’m not saying that at all. You both are connected in a pivotal way—as I said, there’s some relationship between the pair of you. If your job is to save him now, save him you will.” Diana retreated, her gaze softening. “Do you know what Ceres was known for during her time?”
I racked my brain attempting to picture the book from which I’d found the amulet story. “Grains or harvest...something to do with agriculture?”
“Yes, but in this case, more importantly, she was the goddess of motherly relationships.”
“Okay,” I hesitated. “And why does that matter?”
“The amulet you wear around your neck is the strongest protective charm for women that’s ever been created. It was forged by gnomes, enchanted by elves, and sealed by the gods. The three creatures had never worked together before and have never since. It’s a member of the Order of the Heart family of spells—an old witching tradition in which a mother passes down half of the heart to her daughter. However, this one is a very special version.”
“What is its purpose? How is it different?”
“Its purpose is to protect its wearer. It is rumored to have, shall we say, a mind of its own. When it no longer belongs to you, it’ll find its way to the next woman, and on, and on, until it’s needed once more.”
“Why do I have it?”
“This one is different because...” Diana hesitated, pushing her glass of wine away to make room for an elbow rested on the table. “It’s specific to one owner. The amulet belongs to the Mother of Magic. All other owners are merely conduits to its true match.”
“Sorry?”
“Every Master of Magic is born a human, a wizard, something. They don’t become the Master until the time is right.”
“He inherits his powers.”
“Yes—and the challenge is that we never know when, where, how, or who, will bear the next Master. Therefore, the gods cannot protect the Master of Magic until he is found and named as such.”
I frowned as I listened.
“The necklace was created to seek out the Mother of Magic and protect her, so she can safely raise her son until the time comes for him to live with us in Olympia. Once he inherits his powers, the Keeper will protect him.”
I waited for a long moment, the silence stretching into discomfort. Then, I couldn’t help it. I threw my head back and laughed. When Diana looked confused, I waved a hand and shook my head, slowly returning to a quiet grin.
“I’m sorry, but that can’t be right. I must be one of the conduits you mentioned—one of the women who passes it onto the true owner. It can’t be mine.”
“You’re just afraid.” Diana patted my hand. “The prophecies are never wrong. If it’s you who owns the necklace, and I think that it is, your son will be the next Master of Magic.”
“Where is this prophecy?”
“The Master of Magic knows all prophecies, but I don’t need the prophecy to know that this necklace belongs to you. You see, Lily, the amulet only glows so brightly when the time is nearing. I’d give you a few years maximum until your life changes. The Master of Magic must feel it, too. He’s been working on something, a project—something big. I can only imagine it’s his final one.”
“You’re telling me that I’ll have a son who will be the next Master of Magic within the next several years? No,” I said, shaking my head. “Absolutely not. I just got engaged yesterday.” My hand circled around the amulet as I stood. “I can’t—I’m sorry. I think you should take the amulet from me to hold for safekeeping.”
“The amulet is yours to keep.” Diana stood, too, matching my gaze. “Either you’ll fulfill the prophecy...”
“Or I’ll die trying, and it’ll move on to the next woman in line.”
Diana’s silence was enough.
“I’m going to head upstairs. I need to get some rest and think.”
“I can see you’re not convinced,” Diana said. “So, let me put it this way. The question isn’t whether or not the amulet is yours... but for how long will it belong to you?”
I backed away from the table. Diana looked sympathetic, though amusement played at her lips.
“Fine, fine. That’s enough conversation for tonight. Get some rest, Miss Locke.”
I might have thanked Diana for dinner, but I couldn’t be sure. I wound through the hallways of the inn and looked for door number nine as Diana had said, my head spinning with the day’s events. I had come to a new town filled with the descendants of ancient gods, met the Master of Magic, and learned the truth about my amulet and its purpose in protecting a child I didn’t yet have. I needed to lie down.
I spotted door number nine with relief. Finally, someone who could laugh at this with me. Who could help me process and forget, even for a minute, the weight of the world that pressed on my shoulders.
“Hey, Poppy, sorry I took so long!” I pressed my hand to the door and it unlocked at my touch. As it swung open, I called out again. “You will not believe what happened—”
The words died on my lips as I stepped into the room.
A scream followed—probably mine. I couldn’t be sure.
Another bloodcurdling scream, and then, “Poppy!”
Chapter 25
THE SOUND STARTED FROM my lips, and then bled to hers.
Poppy lay on the bed as if she’d been sleeping. The covers were pulled up to her chest and the ruffle of pink pajamas peeked out at the top. Her head rested on the pillow, her eyes open, dead with fear.
The issue wasn’t Poppy.
It was the figure standing over the bed—a tall man, broad and sturdy looking—blond-haired, dark-eyed with a look of utter concentration on his face. In his right hand, he gripped a stake.
At the sound of my scream, the intruder’s eyes flicked up at me.
“Poppy, move!” I took advantage of the lag in time as we all digested the surprise and flung the door shut behind me before I pounced across the room. As I moved, I built a lightning fast Stunner Spell and hurtled it toward the intruder.
I missed my target wildly, but the ball of light caused Poppy’s attacker to dodge its trajectory, stumbling backward and releasing his stake. As he scrambled for it, I moved further into the room and built another Stunner Spell. I held the pulsing ball of light in hand.
This time, I wouldn’t miss.
I inched closer to Poppy, hoping to wedge myself between her and the attacker. Poppy had managed to roll off the bed and into a crouch on the floor. I crept toward her as I kept my eyes focused on the blond hair near the other side of the bed.
“Who are you?” I growled. “What are you doing here?”
He said nothing, though his face hardened as he stood, the stake in his hand. His knees bent as he got into position, and we faced one another, moving toward the end of the bed and away from Poppy.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice was low, soft. Silky in its confidence. “Move aside and let me at the vamp.”
I stiffened as realization hit me. The blond hair, the shiny blue eyes—shiny, shiny, shiny. This was the man from the police station. The person who’d tailed me on the mainland. The vampire hunter must have been tracking me to get to Poppy, and then I’d gone and led her right into harm’s way.
“How’d you get into Olympia?” The thought came to me at once, and I blurted it out. “You’re not a demigod, are you?”
“No.” The man’s eyes flashed. They were an odd shade of blue—an
almost royal blue in their clarity. His hair was dirty blond and slightly curled, and his physique was...well, it was solid enough to kill a vampire, I knew that for a fact.
“Poppy’s not a traditional vampire.” I raised my hand, letting the Stunner Spell hold a warning as it glowed. “She doesn’t drink blood, and certainly she’d never harm a fly, let alone a human or a fellow paranormal.”
His eyebrows creased. “That’s impossible.”
“She’s blood intolerant,” I snapped. “It gives her...issues.”
“Lily!” Poppy hissed. “Those issues are private.”
“Not when I’m trying to save your life,” I hummed back under my breath. To him, I spoke louder. “How did you get here?”
“I walked in.”
I squinted, trying to decipher between obliviousness and deceit. After a long pause, I realized he wasn’t lying—he truly didn’t understand how he’d gotten into Olympia. An issue I’d address later, after Poppy was safe.
The hunter turned toward Poppy, and it was enough of a move for me to cry out my incantation and hurtle the Stunner Spell at him. It clipped the man’s shoulder, just enough to numb a bit of his arm. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the arm with the stake.
He lunged toward Poppy, soaring over the bed and landing next to Poppy’s crouch. With one strike, he had Poppy on the ground under him, holding the stake poised for the kill.
“No!” I couldn’t say where the cry came from—inside me somewhere. A guttural, painful crevasse that sent fury and adrenaline rocketing through my body. “Stop!”
Even as I lunged at him, I knew it was too late.
The stake descended toward her heart.
I watched in slow motion as the vampire hunter looked directly into Poppy’s eyes as he drove the stake downward, a hungry look on his face, as if he wanted to watch the life seep from her eyes.
He hesitated only for the briefest of seconds before completing the deed—one breath from Poppy’s demise. That split second was enough.
A crash broke through the window across the room, the glass shattering to millions of sparkling pieces at our feet. A sailing blur knocked the tussling pair over, sending Poppy sprawling to the side where she fell with a sharp cry onto the shards littering the floor.