by Eva Chase
What the hell was Jude up to? I left the stack of books I’d been paging through. “Let’s find out what he had to say, then.”
We hurried down to the basement, reaching it just a few seconds ahead of Malcolm, who Connar must have contacted too. The Stormhurst scion was standing in front of the couch eyeing the folded piece of paper sitting innocently enough in the middle of the coffee table. The scrawl on the outside, which did look like Jude’s, said only, To the scions.
Not “the other scions” or “my fellow scions.” He’d cringed at including himself in that term from the moment he’d admitted his true parentage to me.
“It’s not like it’s going to explode,” Malcolm said, and snatched the paper up. His gaze darted over the words written on the other side, and his jaw tensed. He passed the note to me. I held it so Declan could read it too.
You all have done a hell of a lot more for me than I’ve ever been able to do for you. This one problem, I can fix. Make sure you give the barons hell.
“This one problem?” I repeated, but even as I said the words, understanding was sinking in. Jude’s voice yesterday in the field rang through my memory, from when we’d been talking about setting conditions with the joymancers—about someone needing to meet up with them.
It wouldn’t have to be her.
“He’s gone to New York to make the deal with the joymancers,” I said with a lurch of my stomach. Had he decided he was going to take that duty on the moment I’d mentioned it? But—out of all of us he had the least ability to defend himself from them right now—
Oh. My next words fell leaden from my mouth. “And he isn’t expecting to make it back.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jude
I should have been sitting in the comfort of my Manhattan apartment. The problem was that the apartment was linked to my name, and it didn’t seem wise to leave a trail showing I’d been here in the city at the same time as the joymancer force had arrived. So I’d lowered myself to a dumpy little hotel that accepted cash—charging me double since I’d arrived well before check-in. I’d coughed up the dough even though I wasn’t sure I was going to spend the night. For all I knew, I’d be long gone by then.
In the meantime, I’d settled into the stiff chair by the desk with its worn varnish, shifting every few minutes as if I might find a more enjoyable pose, while I waited for an alert on the prepaid phone I’d picked up. That device couldn’t be traced to me either. As soon as I’d gotten it, I’d dialed up the number I’d been able to glean from Rory’s phone and informed the joymancer at the other end that her people could text me when they were ready to arrange a meet.
She hadn’t confirmed they were on their way, but she hadn’t said they weren’t either, so I didn’t figure it would be too long. The sooner I could get out of this room with its stale-bread smell, the better.
And then… Then whatever happened would happen. If I hadn’t come, Rory would have decided on some strategy that put her neck on the line, because that was how she was. Risking herself wouldn’t have made any sense, though.
I didn’t belong with her and the others anyway. The clock had been ticking on the time I had left from the moment I’d been born, only faster since Mom’s new pregnancy. Better I ended up in some joymancer jail or dead from one of their spells than let Baron Killbrook get the satisfaction of ending my life. And I’d be foiling his awful plans at the same time. Win-win.
As long as I kept reminding myself that, I’d be fine.
A ringtone jangled, but not from the prepaid phone. It was my regular one that I still had in my pocket. I pulled it out with a grimace, already knowing I wasn’t going to answer it.
Rory’s number had appeared on the screen. No doubt Mr. Almost-Baron Ashgrave had told her I’d dodged his calls and his questions. My gut clenched at the thought of worrying her, but I wasn’t sure I trusted myself to lie convincingly if one of these insight experts got me talking long enough.
The call went through to voice mail. I was about to shove the phone away when a text popped up, also from Rory.
I know what you’re doing. We found your note. Don’t go through with this without talking to me, please.
The please jabbed me right through the heart. I could hear Rory saying it, see the plea in her dark blue eyes, as if she were right in front of me.
Fucking mangled magic. I’d managed to contain enough to cast a disguising illusion on the note so it’d stay hidden, but the spell had been supposed to last until tonight, by which time the deed should have already been done. Obviously I hadn’t managed to give it anywhere near enough oomph.
My hand wavered over the phone. I couldn’t just ignore her. Hell, if I did, chances were she’d come storming down to New York City as fast as that Lexus could carry her, and then all my intentions for keeping her out of danger wouldn’t mean shit.
I’m clearly the best man for the job, I wrote back. Don’t worry about it. Maybe they’ll enjoy my company so much we’ll part ways great friends.
Her reply was almost instant. I think you know I’m not going to just drop this. I need to TALK to you.
I’d barely finished reading when the phone started jangling again. I scowled at the screen, but a lump rose in my throat at the same time.
The worst part about how I’d had to go about this was not getting to say good-bye to her. I wasn’t sure if I deserved that luxury anyway, but she deserved better from me. Especially now that the cat was out of the bag anyway.
I brought the phone to my ear. “I’m not changing my mind,” I said.
“This whole thing was my idea,” Rory retorted, unfazed by the abrupt start to the conversation. “You shouldn’t go off and decide how to handle it without me getting any say.”
Her voice was so tight with emotion that my fingers clenched around the phone. I closed my eyes. “I know what you need done. I can take in enough power to make the deal—and that kind of spell sustains as long as it’s cast properly, even if you couldn’t put a ton of power into it.”
“That’s not the point.”
“No. The point is that, like I said, I’m the best person to do it. I’m the only person who can face the danger without risking the pentacle or anyone really important. This might be the only really important thing I ever do. I’m just taking the opportunity that presented itself.”
Rory was quiet for a moment. I almost thought I’d managed to convince her when she cleared her throat, and the hitching rasp of the sound told me she was on the verge of tears if not already crying. A shamed heat flooded me from my chest up to my face.
“You’re important to me,” she said, her voice watery but determined. “I’m sorry if I haven’t shown you that enough. And you’re important to Declan and Connar and Malcolm too. You didn’t even give us a chance to figure out another option. And you have no idea what might happen, what other things you might be able to contribute in the future…”
My free hand balled against my chest, against the hollow where I’d used to sense that constant current of magic, which now held nothing more than a faint tickle. “It isn’t getting any better, Rory. I’m not getting back even the power I used to have.”
“Is that all that matters? People make a difference without magic a gazillion times a day.” She paused. “I know it has to be horrible. I’ll do whatever I can to help you get what you can back, or adjust, or whatever. Can you at least give me that chance?”
“Will you still feel that way if I hang back and the rest of you can’t find a better solution, and the jackasses in town kill more people while we’re waffling over it?”
“Yes. Because the whole point of making the deal is to make sure no one at all dies if they don’t have to.” There was a rustling that might have been her swiping at her eyes. “I love you. So much. You know that, don’t you?”
As if I could somehow have failed to realize after all the compassion—and passion—she’d shown me. She’d been willing to tie her life to mine permanently if it meant sav
ing mine. I drew in a ragged breath, a tearing sensation rending through my heart. “I know. I love you too. And this is the best thing I can offer you.”
“No, it’s not. The best thing you can offer is being here, with me, fighting our battles together. That’s what I want.”
That was what I wanted too. It was just hard to imagine I could ever really have it. But her voice and her words were working their way into my mind and my soul, and even if I doubted myself, I believed in her.
“Just wait,” she said into my silence. “That’s all I’m asking. Don’t run in there knowing you can’t possibly make it out. Wait and give us time to find a better way. Trust me. Please.”
How could I say no to her? But how could I sit here uselessly while our chance might totally pass us by? I pressed my hand to my forehead.
“I’ll try,” I said. “If there’s a way I can make it work so that I get to come back to you, I promise you that’s what I’ll do.”
She must have been able to tell she wasn’t going to get a more definite answer out of me. “Will you at least let me know before you make any move?” she asked.
That would only make it harder, but I probably owed her that. “I will.”
When I’d ended the call, I sagged back in the chair, feeling drained but restless at the same time. I had about five minutes to recover before my other phone dinged.
We’ve arrived, the text from an unfamiliar number said. Willing to make arrangements to meet.
The joymancers. I sat up straight with a stutter of my pulse.
I could put them off. Did it really make sense to throw myself on their mercy? I’d had a plan for making sure they committed to the deal, but after that, I knew I wouldn’t have a hope in hell of getting away from them if they wanted to detain me or worse.
But Rory wanted me alive. Rory wanted me with her.
She also wanted to stop the wretched plan against the Naries that had been tormenting her almost as much as it had them.
How could I come up with anything better than the basic approach I’d decided on? I could barely cast any magic of my own. No matter how you sliced it, someone had to go out there and talk to them. It wasn’t as if this were some kind of movie where you could just—
Some kind of movie. For a second, I lost my breath. Then I was scrambling out of the chair toward the door with a brilliant spark of hope chasing at my heels.
“It’s done,” Mr. Oakgrime said, handing me the silver cufflinks he’d embedded the spell in. I’d asked for something small enough to easily fit in my pocket and distinctive enough that I couldn’t mistake it. “This one will activate when you squeeze the clip and run your thumb over the face of the other one at the same time, and it’ll have a range of about a mile. You should get a half hour or so out of the spell.”
The mage studio owner gave me a curious look, but I’d just funded a full year’s worth of movie productions, sparing him the need to keep scraping together the cash. It’d cost me more than half my accumulated savings, but it was worth it for this token and his discretion. He wasn’t going to risk irritating me by prying any more than he already had.
It was too bad that with my magic stripped away, I’d never get to work for the guy after all. He really was all right.
I squashed down the pang of loss and gave him a playful salute. “Sounds perfect. I look forward to seeing your next films.”
“After this, you can claim a seat at the premiere screenings.”
If I was around for that. This trick would go a long way toward keeping me out of danger, but tangling with the joymancers was never going to be safe.
He waved to me as I headed out. I flagged a taxi and hopped into the back seat, already tapping out a text to my mysterious contact.
I’m ready. I’m here alone, but you can pick the spot if you want that security. I just need to speak to someone who has authority over your whole group. If I can’t get that, I can’t give you the rest of the info.
The response came back so quickly I suspected they’d been discussing where they’d want to arrange our meet-up while they waited on me. Central Park, just north of the Bow Bridge. We can meet your terms—but we’ll be watching to make sure you’ve been true to your word.
Of course they would. “Central Park,” I told the driver. “West side.” Hopefully I could get there fast enough to take a decent lay of the land before the others arrived.
To make that more likely, I delayed my reply while texting Rory instead. I promised I’d let you know before I made a move. I’ve found the solution for you. If all goes well, I’ll be back there before dinner.
What are you planning? she wrote back.
I’ll tell you when it works. Save me some embarrassment if it doesn’t. But they shouldn’t even see me, let alone lay a hand or a spell on me. I paused before sending and added, Trust me?
I didn’t realize how worried I was that she wouldn’t until her next message popped up. I will. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to be worrying, though. Let me know you’re okay as soon as it’s over.
That I can do.
I confirmed the Central Park meeting with my joymancer contact, saying I could be there in an hour. It was actually only fifteen minutes before the cab reached the sprawl of trees. I directed the driver a little farther north and then handed him a few twenties as I leapt out. “Keep the change!”
His startled “Thank you!” followed me down the path.
Plenty of regular people were strolling through the park, enjoying the fall colors. I would let the joymancers decide how to handle the Naries here. I jogged around the lake beneath the blazes of red and yellow leaves to the pale gray arch of the bridge. The clouds that had clotted the sky back by the university had drawn back; the birds that hadn’t flown south yet chirped gleefully overhead. I’d have enjoyed the atmosphere more if I hadn’t been so wired.
When I reached the bridge, I slowed and ambled over it as if I were simply passing by. There was no sign of any mages staking the place out yet. I chose a tree not far from the north end of the bridge, dug a little hole in the dirt by its roots with a stick, dropped one cufflink in, and covered it over. Perfect.
Now I just needed a place to keep myself unnoticed and out of the way. The castle wasn’t too far from here.
I picked up my pace again as I left the bridge behind. When I reached the stone walls of the modern-day castle, I circled it and sat myself on the grass nearby, taking a cross-legged pose. Anyone who looked this way could think I was meditating.
Oakgrime had said the spell would work most smoothly if I was relaxed. Ha. I did my best to actually meditate, breathing slowly in and out, relaxing into the cheerful park sounds and the streaks of warm sunlight that split the fall chill. About fifty minutes into the hour I’d told the joymancers I’d need, I reached into my pocket for the other cufflink and squeezed and swiped to activate the spell.
Immediately, most of my awareness jerked across the grounds to a view of the end of the bridge. I could still make out a faint afterimage of the area around the castle, enough that I’d realize if anyone approached me, but the clearest sensations came from the spot where I’d planted the first cufflink.
For all intents and purposes, I was there. Oakgrime had conjured me an illusionary self. I’d asked him to make it a man in his early twenties that didn’t look particularly like me, because there was no need to incriminate myself if I didn’t have to, but otherwise I wasn’t sure who “I” was right now. But when I thought to step forward, the illusionary body my consciousness had slipped into moved toward the path. I let out a soft laugh and felt it tickle through my illusionary chest. To anyone around me, I’d look perfectly solid and real.
Perfect. The joymancers would have a hard time taking me into custody like this. But along with my awareness, the small pool of magic I was holding behind my collarbone could flow through this conjured body too. I might have thought of using this technique earlier if I’d still had the skills to pull it off myself.
I didn’t have time to dwell on that. A middle-aged man, maybe forty with plenty of salt in his peppery hair, came striding across the bridge with a purposeful air. A quiver of magic brushed over me. Either he or unseen allies he’d brought with him were scanning the area around the bridge with magic—making sure I hadn’t brought unseen allies.
Not a problem. I’d barely brought myself.
As he reached the end of the bridge, his gaze fell on me. I raised my hand at a jaunty angle. “Just me, as promised.”
His eyes sharpened as he took me in, maybe sensing something wasn’t quite natural about the figure he was faced with. But obviously Oakgrime had put every skill he used in his movie effects to work on this spell. The joymancer didn’t say anything, only stalked closer until he was about five feet away. With a murmur and a wave of his hand, he cast a spell into the air around us—to ensure our privacy, I guessed.
“You’re one of them, I assume,” he said in a disdainful tone.
“Funny thing—turns out we’re all individuals even if we work magic the same way,” I said. “And I don’t happen to agree with a whole lot of ‘them’ right now.”
He made a skeptical sound, but he gestured for me to go on. “What did you have to tell us, then?”
I crossed my arms over my chest, which at the moment felt more substantial than my real body back behind the castle. “First things first. Do you have the authority to speak for all of the joymancers who came with you? Because I’ll only deal with someone who does, and the deal will catch you out if you’re lying.”
“I can,” the joymancer said. “But I’m not inclined to make any deals.”
“Oh, I think you should be. You want to know that I’m giving you true information and not leaving out any details that could get you killed, right? Well, I’d like to know that you all aren’t going to barge into the situation slaughtering indiscriminately. I mean, you shouldn’t want to do that anyway, seeing as you’re the ‘good guys’ and all. So you agree to keep the violence within reason, and I’ll agree to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, and we’ll both be happy.”