Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus- Betrayal

by Lydia Sherrer

  “In any case, Mr. Darthe was—at one time—looking for Sebastian, his intentions no doubt less than honorable. But some time after my nephew’s twentieth birthday, any mention of the boy’s whereabouts abruptly ceased. I was concerned, but as I had my own way of knowing he was still alive, I assumed he had simply left Atlanta. Though, perhaps you know different?”

  The question caught Lily off guard. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Was it her place to tell Madam Barrington of Sebastian’s time with the fae? She didn’t know much anyway, simply that he had spent several years if not more in Melthalin, hiding from the demons that had plagued him after his foolish dabbling in demonology.

  “I—I believe he did leave, for a time, though if you would like to know more it may be best if you ask him yourself. I am not very clear on the details.”

  Her mentor nodded, a knowing look in her eyes. “I see. In any case, it was a wise move on my nephew’s part. Atlanta was not a safe place for him to remain. And, naturally, I am relieved that he seems to have gained a semblance of maturity, if not much sense, in the intervening years. But who knows what machinations may have been put into motion by his return. Demons are not all stupid, brutish creatures with no desire beyond destruction and pain. The more powerful ones are frighteningly cunning, and not to be meddled with under any circumstances. They weave their webs over centuries and, much like a spider, their patience can be inexhaustible when awaiting their prey. If this witch, Roger Darthe, is in the thrall of a greater demon, a few years of quiet scheming in the shadows would be par for the course. Sebastian could be in great danger.”

  A cold dread washed over Lily, and she had to work to raise her cup to her lips without betraying the tremor in her grip.

  “Conversely, this rash of activity among local witches could be completely unrelated to my nephew. It is not uncommon every few decades for some individual or loose group to cause mischief. But either way, it is a perilous business to become entangled in, and one I would advise you to avoid.”

  While Lily couldn’t agree more, her annoyingly overdeveloped sense of responsibility did not. She made a face as she lowered her drink and cupped it in both hands, savoring its warmth. “Thank you for illuminating the dangers, Ethel, but Agent Grant asked for my help, and we owe him. Not to mention, the concept of ‘doing nothing’ doesn’t even exist in Sebastian’s psyche. I can’t leave him to deal with it alone.”

  Madam Barrington’s lips thinned. “His foolish choices are not your responsibility.”

  “Of course they aren’t, but he is my friend, and friends don’t let each other face danger alone. How could I live with myself if I abandoned him and he got hurt?” Blushing, Lily closed her mouth and looked out the sun room’s expansive windows, realizing she had nearly shouted at her mentor. A biting accusation hovered on her tongue, though she refused to voice it: How can you live with yourself after abandoning him all those years ago? She understood, logically, that Sebastian deserved every harsh word he’d received from his aunt over the years. And he had left on his own. But he had left because he felt he’d had no choice. Felt he wasn’t wanted, wasn’t safe. That was on Madam Barrington’s head.

  “I failed him.” Madam Barrington’s quiet admission made Lily turn back and stare, her anger fading at the haunted look in the woman’s eyes.

  “I failed him, and I failed his parents. Had I taken more precautions instead of respecting their foolish wishes…” She heaved a sigh, eyes on her teacup. “Perhaps they would still be alive today and Sebastian would be living a normal, mundane life.”

  Despite the gravity of the situation, Lily couldn’t suppress a small snort. “I doubt anything, least of all a stable home environment, could have given Sebastian a ‘normal’ life. He and normal just don’t get along.”

  A ghost of a smile lifted Madam Barrington’s lips, then faded into the grave lines of her aged face. “Perhaps you are right. But regardless of past mistakes, that does not change the danger he, and you, now face. Wizards have a long tradition of quietly opposing witchcraft wherever it is to be found. There was a time in my youth when one might have described me as quite the witch hunter.” She sighed, shaking her head. “But that was a different era entirely. As modernity has overtaken us and wizard families have scattered and faded, the bonds within the magical community have been left to molder and such endeavors have largely been abandoned. I have long debated whether to take action myself here in Atlanta beyond simple watchfulness. Yet in such times as these, tolerance and forbearance have always seemed the wiser course. It is a fortunate reality for the safety of mankind that witches are often destroyed by the very power they seek to harness, as demons are particularly fond of eating the hand that feeds them.”

  The image of a massive, clawed demon swallowing a witch whole after she had lost control of the beast flashed across Lily’s mind, and she shuddered. That particular incident at the Clay Museum had been burned into her memory, and she hoped whatever was going on now wouldn’t progress to that point. Regardless, she could not leave Sebastian to face it alone, whatever it was. They had almost died that night at the museum, and would have if not for angelic protection woven into her ward bracelet. Who, or what, had given it to her was still a mystery, and she still didn’t know how it worked. During her brief time in the fae realm last September, she had been able to actually feel and direct the power. But once she returned to the human realm where magic seemed so much weaker, she had no longer been able to harness it. The bracelet’s power was a maddening enigma, though she welcomed it all the same, as it had saved her life on multiple occasions.

  “Well,” Lily ventured into the pensive silence, “we won’t know anything until Sebastian gets the case files from Agent Grant. Once he does, perhaps we can look at them together. I’m sure we would benefit from your experience and wisdom, as long as you don’t mind dealing with Sebastian. He was acting rather oddly this morning.”

  “It shall be a sore trial, to be sure. But I believe I am up to the task. I did raise him through the last of his teenage years, you remember.” The two of them shared a knowing smile and set to finishing up their tea before it cooled completely.

  “There was one other thing I was worried about, if you don’t mind me asking.”

  Madam Barrington nodded.

  “Is there any possibility these recent incidents might be connected to…my father? Things have been so quiet. We haven’t had a shred of news—not a single sighting or rumor of their whereabouts since September. At first, I was relieved, but now it’s making me nervous.”

  “You and me both, my dear.” Madam Barrington’s brow furrowed and she shook her head. “But unfortunately I have had no news, and I promise you I have been stretching my contacts as far and wide as possible. Many of my old acquaintances have passed on, but some still remain, and I have tried—belatedly to be sure—to reach out to those younger wizards who still care to have dealings with others of their kind.”

  “What about Mr. Dee? Have you had any word from England recently?” The elderly man—Sebastian’s great-grandfather and one of a dwindling number of powerful wizard family patriarchs—had given them vital aid during their search for Morgan’s tomb last year. He had even made a trip to America to help Allen LeFay break the curse on Madam Barrington and aid in her recovery.

  “As a matter of fact, we are due for a chat this weekend. Despite our inability to deal directly with the problem of your father, I can assure you we have not been idle. If you do not mind waiting while I attempt to establish contact, I can see if he is available. The time difference makes communication difficult, yet us older souls often keep odd hours.” The regal wizard gave a dry smile as she took hold of her cane and used it to rise laboriously from her chair.

  “Here, let me take care that,” Lily said when her mentor reached for the tea tray. “I’ll get these washed up while you try to get in touch with Mr. Dee.”

  As Madam Barrington headed to her office, Lily gathered the tea items and carri
ed them to the kitchen, setting about washing and drying everything while trying not to let her mind wander to the many things worrying her. Sebastian. Richard. Her father. Morgan le Fay. It was all so exhausting. Sometimes she wished she had Sebastian’s thirst for adventure. At least then dealing with all these problems would be easier. But that just wasn’t who she was.

  “I don’t suppose you can spare a moment to pour a starving feline a drop or two of milk, Madam Cinderella?”

  Unsurprised, Lily turned to eye her cat, who had jumped up on the kitchen stool by the counter to observe her labors. He seemed to have an uncanny knack for knowing when a human being was in the general vicinity of the refrigerator.

  “Not when you use that tone of voice, I can’t. You should try being polite every now and then. Snark is rarely the best way to convince someone to help you.”

  “That was me being polite. I am a cat. What did you expect?”

  Lily rolled her eyes. “Madam Barrington always gives you milk when you come over. If I give it to you, too, you’ll grow fat as a sausage in no time.”

  “I’ll take my chances. Besides, I rather like sausages.”

  “You like to eat sausages. I promise, you won’t enjoy looking like one. Now shoo. You were supposed to be keeping an eye on Jamie. Where is he, anyway?”

  “Busy snooping in your carpet bag, I believe. He has been dying to get a look at your eduba. Seems to think he knows enough magic to use it.”

  “What?! That little—Jamie!” she yelled, hastily drying her hands. “Don’t you dare touch my things, or you will sorely regret it!”

  A curse and a pox on little brothers, she thought as she hurried out of the kitchen.

  4

  No Greater Love

  Making a beeline for the sun room, Lily almost collided with her little brother in the hallway. The reprobate looked as fresh and innocent as a spring morning.

  “Give it to me.” Lily held out her hand, the other on her hip as she glared at her errant sibling. Despite the decade separating them, he had grown considerably over the last year and was almost as tall as her, even in her heels. He might end up as tall as Sebastian at the rate he was going, and just as gangly.

  “What?” Eyes wide, Jamie held out both his empty hands.

  “My eduba.”

  A crease formed on her little brother’s brow. “What do you mean? I was just out back, um, getting some air.”

  Lily’s eyes narrowed. “‘Getting some air’ is what ladies in corsets do, not farm boys who are too nosey for their own good. Now stop playing around, this is serious. You can’t treat magic like a game or a harmless toy. Give me the book right now, or I’ll tell Mother and Madam Barrington, and you won’t get any magic lessons for the rest of the year.”

  “All right, all right. Sheesh. You’re such a spoilsport. I was only going to look at it.” Expression grumpy, he reached behind him and withdrew her red-leather, gold-embossed eduba from where he’d stuck it in the back of his belt. Lily snatched it from his grip and cradled it to her chest, making a mental note to put some sort of anti-theft ward on it. A nice shock to the hand would teach her brother a lesson he sorely deserved. At the thought, Lily remembered her mother’s plea for her to have a talk with Jamie. She exhaled, trying to let go of her ire at her brother’s reckless tendencies.

  “Look, Jamie,” she began, catching his eye and hoping he would listen. “I know you are excited about your lessons and it’s hard to be patient when there are so many wondrous things to discover. But magic is extremely complex and dangerous. If you try to skip ahead and learn things willy nilly, the gaps in your knowledge will get you killed. I assure you, the limits put on you are not arbitrary, nor are they just annoying lists of rules made up by stodgy old wizards with no sense of adventure.”

  Her brother’s scowl flickered as his lips twitched upward, but he quickly regained control and his brows drew down again in a stubborn expression. Lily sighed.

  “I see the budding thief was successful in his endeavor,” commented Sir Kipling, his meow startling them both. He sat on the hall rug, tail twitching lazily.

  Jamie glared at the cat. “You stinking tattletale. You said you wouldn’t tell.”

  “As a matter of fact, after you so foolishly ignored my advice to keep your hands to yourself, I simply stated I would not interfere with your plan to obtain your sister’s eduba. I never said I would allow you to enjoy the fruit of your labors. I only aid and abet harmless mischief, not dangerous foolishness. You, my boy, need to learn the difference.”

  The young man grumbled, Sir Kipling’s wisdom-filled meows lost on him as he stuck his hands in his pockets and shoved past Lily before she had a chance to translate. He took the stairs two at a time to the upper floor, no doubt intending to sit in the guest room and sulk. Lily could only shake her head in exasperation.

  “My poor mother. He will be the death of us all, I’m sure of it.”

  “Cheer up. She survived you.”

  “Excuse me?” Lily was about to embark on a lengthy diatribe of how unlike her little brother she was, but a sudden thought stopped her. “Wait, what did he mean you said you wouldn’t tell? Can he understand you?”

  “The spoken word is not the only means of communication, you know. I found an old board game in one of the bedrooms—Scrabble I believe it is called. Once Jamie understood my intent, the rest was easy.”

  “Well, well, look at you. Quite the enterprising feline,” Lily said, one eyebrow arched. She wasn’t sure a cat who could both read and write, in addition to possessing unknown magical powers, was a good thing. At the very least, it promised to keep her on her toes.

  A cough from down the hall made her look up. Madam Barrington was standing with her office door open, beckoning Lily over. “I have made contact, if you would be so kind as to join me.”

  “Of course. Just a moment, I need to get my things from the sun room.” Lily hurried back down the hall, arms wrapped around her eduba as she considered various ways to teach her brother a lesson. Sebastian would have laughed and said she was overreacting, but Sebastian wasn’t a wizard—he wouldn’t understand. The volume in her arms was a priceless treasure, just as much a part of her as her ward bracelet, not the least because it had been a gift from Madam Barrington, who had no family to pass it on to herself. Traditionally, each wizard line had a family eduba which was inherited by the oldest, magically-trained child of each generation, and the volume was often the most precious thing a wizard family possessed, beyond the family’s power anchor. Lily’s own power anchor—a beautiful lapis lazuli stone given to her by her mother—she assumed had come from the Silvester side of her family. New anchors and edubas could, of course, be crafted by a sufficiently skilled wizard. But the old family heirlooms, passed down for generations, were always more potent and sometimes possessed hidden powers that were lost and rediscovered over the centuries. Wizards used to be much stronger, and nothing made now was anywhere near as powerful as the artifacts of old. Which was why an impetuous, inexperienced, fledgling wizard like her little brother should be kept as far away from such things as possible. For a moment her thoughts flitted to Seth and the odd ring Sebastian had given him. She wondered what hidden powers it might possess, and if she had been unwise to let the young man keep it.

  Putting that particular worry aside, Lily grabbed her carpet bag and hurried to her mentor’s office, opening and closing the door quietly as she slipped inside. It was a wonderful room, her favorite in the whole house with its wall-to-wall bookshelves, ornate fireplace, and musty smell of leather and old books. Light globes hovered near the high ceiling and filled what might have been a very dark room with a comforting glow. This was the only room that sported overtly magical items, as it had no windows and could only be accessed by a single door which Madam Barrington kept carefully locked. Lily had been well into her second year of magic study before her mentor had invited her into the “inner sanctum.” Unsurprisingly, Jamie was not allowed to so much as darken its door.


  Laying her bag on a nearby chair where it would be safe from her brother’s meddling, Lily rounded Madam Barrington’s large oak desk, which was covered in orderly piles of books and various magical instruments that whirred and clicked with quiet industriousness. Her mentor held an ornate, silver hand mirror, the kind of thing one might see in an antique mall on Broad Street or Peachtree Road up in Chamblee. Its back looked mundane enough, but once Lily came around to the front she saw that dimmu runes had been etched around its silver frame. The etchings looked old, and she suspected it was another family heirloom.

  While both she and Madam Barrington believed it was better not to rely on magic for everyday tasks—especially since mundane technology was significantly safer to use—her wizard mentor had not neglected to teach her the different spells wizards had once employed on a regular basis. Conveyance spells were some of the more useful, and popular. They were a class of magic which could transmit sensory input—whether audio, visual, or tactile—from one item to another, even over great distances. Such devices as the mirror had once been in regular use, and Lily suspected this particular conveyance spell connecting Madam Barrington to her colleague in England had been used for decades. Lily rarely employed conveyance spells herself, since she had grown up relying on things like cell phones and computers. But such a practical class of spell could be very useful for other things, like avoiding eavesdroppers, whether magical or mundane. There were special parameters on conveyance spells that could limit the output to a certain distance and direction, or even connect audio and visual so that only those with line of sight on the mirror’s surface could hear the conversation.

  “Ah, Miss Singer. A delight to see you healthy and hale. How is that estimable cat of yours?”