“It takes about three hours or so to get to Dallas,” said Taylor, “so we should probably get going.”
Norie gave two thumbs-up.
She wore clothes borrowed from Lucinda, who was also a slim woman, but the T-shirt and jeans looked baggy on Norie’s too-thin frame. Taylor decided they’d hit a mall, too, and get her some decent clothing. There was no reason she had to walk around looking like a little girl playing dress-up. Then again, the alternative was for her to go naked. For an uncomfortable moment, that image stuck inside his head, along with the number of things he could do to a naked Norie.…Then he felt like an asshole and tried to scrub the porn out of his mind.
Sweet Mother Goddess. He needed to knock that shit off. He was Norie’s protector, not her lover, and she deserved a lot more respect.
He said their good-byes to the others and then guided Norie to the battered SUV. He opened the door and helped her inside. She squeezed his hand in thanks and then put on her seat belt.
In no time at all, they were headed out of town.
“Not much in the way of radio stations out this way,” he said apologetically. “I’ve got some CDs in the glove box, if you want to pick something to listen to.”
He kept his eyes on the road, but he heard her rummaging around. Finally, she picked one and slid the silver disc into the player.
Seconds later, he recognized the opening strains of Carlos Santana’s “Black Magic Woman.” He glanced at Norie. She looked back at him and grinned. He saw the sparkle in her eye and was glad she still had a sense of humor.
They arrived at the Dragon embassy a little after four p.m. They found a spot in front, fed the meter, and then walked up a hundred marble steps to get to the entrance. With his Dragon-issued ID and the paperwork from Gray, they were allowed inside. A woman with graying hair, thick glasses, and an unfortunate penchant for wearing plaid led them down a hallway and into a lushly appointed study. Or maybe it was just a fancy waiting room. Taylor couldn’t really put a name to it. The lady gestured for them to enter and said nothing at all, barely offering them a glance as she left.
“Nice to meet you, too,” muttered Taylor. He held the lockbox with the gun in his left hand. He couldn’t wait to be rid of it. He didn’t like that holding the damn thing made him nervous, but he couldn’t shake the foreboding sitting in his stomach like a bad bowl of chili.
Norie sat down in a plush leather chair and picked up a magazine with the headline, “Martha Stewart’s Magical Makeovers.” Restlessness ate at Taylor, so he wandered around the room and looked at the paintings. Most were medieval landscapes, a few were scenes from magical history, and the biggest one, which hung above the massive stone fireplace, was a portrait of Jaed and her dragon. It was a monstrous red and gold beast, and it looked very much like the creature that Gray shifted into when he took on the form. Taylor hadn’t paid much attention to magical history in high school, so he couldn’t recall if Jaed could shift into a dragon herself. Even in a world filled with the unusual, the idea of people turning into mythical creatures was still astonishing.
Taylor was eyeing that portrait when a panel next to the fireplace slid open and a young man hurried in. Startled by the mage’s sudden appearance, Taylor put his hand on his gun holster. The kid didn’t even notice. He had a distracted, harried look that didn’t sit well on his youthful face. He wore the traditional red robes that indicated the House of Dragons; his Converse sneakers peeked out from beneath.
“Hey. Um, hi.” He was pale-skinned, wore round glasses that made his brown eyes look owlish, and his blond hair looked as if it hadn’t been brushed in a week. “You’re the sheriff?”
Taylor held out his free hand. “Sheriff Taylor Mooreland.”
The man shook hands heartily, with far more strength than Taylor would’ve given him credit for. The firm handshake made his estimation of the boy rise, well, a smidge at least.
“Emmett Lee,” he said. “I’m your…er, mage, I guess. Did you bring the—” His gaze landed on Norie, and his mouth dropped open. “Wow! I mean, wow!” He hurried to the girl, his arms waving and his robes fluttering. “Awesome. So awesome. Never thought I’d ever meet one of you!”
Startled, Norie rose from the chair and found herself nearly shaken to death as Emmett grabbed both of her hands and juddered enthusiastically. Taylor crossed the room and extricated the stunned woman from the mage’s grip.
“Sorry,” said Emmett. He blushed. “I just didn’t think I’d ever get to meet a thanaturge. They’re practically nonexistent, you know.” He paused, his gaze zeroing in on Norie’s neck. “Hey, that’s weird. You get some kind of magical blowback or something?”
Both Taylor and Norie stared at Emmett.
“What does that mean?” asked Taylor.
“Yeah, that must’ve been some spell. I’ve never seen a thanaturge in action, but I’ve researched a lot about them. Ekros is so cool, you know? I’m a dragon. Totally a dragon, heart and soul, but being able to necro? And see ghosts? Man, that’s awesome.” He turned his gaze to Norie. “You see any ghosts here? I think this place is haunted. It’s old and people have died here, and sometimes I get that funny feeling in my stomach, and my hair stands up on the back of my neck. So I was thinking we have spirits hanging around or something.”
Taylor’s head was starting to throb from Emmett’s rapid-fire commentary, and when he opened his mouth to start another round, Taylor grabbed the kid’s shoulder. “She can’t talk,” he said. “And she doesn’t exactly remember what happened. We think she got bespelled.”
“Oh.” He gave them a strange look. “Well, sorta. I guess. Whatever went down was really badass. It happens sometimes when the magic is so strong, it kinda…” He flicked out his hands and wiggled his fingers while making sounds of an explosion. “Chances are whatever happened, the magic wasn’t released properly and it, you know, got all globby. I mean, it’ll go away on its own eventually, but why wouldn’t she just remove it?” He cast an unsure glance at Taylor. “Don’t you want her to talk?”
“Of course I do!” Taylor wondered why Gray and Ember, two of the most powerful magicals he knew, hadn’t offered up the “globby” theory. “Is it demonic?”
Emmett blinked at him. “You know her better than I do. I’ve never heard of a thanaturge controlling demons, but anything’s possible.” He looked askance at Norie. “She seems really nice, though.”
“I’m talking about the spell. The magic. Did demons do this to her?” Then Taylor thought: What the hell is a thanaturge?
“Er…” The mage looked at Norie, and then at Taylor. “Demons smell bad, and so does their magic. She smells really, really, really good. And she’s pretty.” He blushed again. “So I don’t think she’s possessed or anything. Um, not that pretty has anything to do with magic. Just with her.”
Taylor wanted to shake Emmett until some sense fell into his cotton brain. “Norie isn’t possessed, and she doesn’t control demons. But we had a run-in with one earlier, and I just wondered if the magic clinging to her voice box has anything to do with the Dark One.”
“Um. Well. Y’see, it’s her magic,” said Emmett slowly. He glanced at each of them, his expression confused. “Don’t you get it? She cast the spell.”
Chapter 8
Stunned silence followed Emmett’s announcement.
“Um, yeah,” said the mage, his befuddled expression bleeding into apprehension. “When magic gets, well, globby, it only does that with the person who accessed the power. You know, return to sender, that kind of thing.” He readjusted his glasses. “How come you don’t know this stuff?”
“I’m not a magical,” said Taylor.
Emmett slanted him a look of disbelief. Taylor ignored the mage and met Norie’s panicked gaze. He felt badly for her, but along with that empathy was a sliver of suspicion that curled up in his stomach. How could she not know she was a magical? Was she really a victim, or was she playing him?
Norie stroked her throat as though doing so mi
ght remove the clinging magic.
He took her shoulders and gently turned her to face him. “Do you remember casting a spell?” he asked.
She shook her head. Her eyes glistened with tears. Her lower lip quivered, but she caught it between her teeth. He believed her. He also realized that Emmett was the second young magical to see what the older, more experienced magicals had not. Trent had also mentioned Norie’s necro powers. And Taylor couldn’t help but wonder why no one in Nevermore had detected she’d been a victim of her own magic.
Taylor put his arm around Norie, and she accepted his comfort. She fit just right against him, as if she belonged there. He wished he didn’t feel this way. She made it difficult to think straight. But she needed him, and he’d already committed himself to her safety. I won’t let anything happen to her.
“Can you remove it?” asked Taylor.
“Me?” squeaked Emmett. “No way. It’s Magic 101. Only the wizard who cast the spell can undo it, or you know, a convocation from his House, which is like, huge, and hardly ever done anyway. And magic globs aren’t a big enough reason to get her House to work a removal spell.”
“She doesn’t have a House,” said Taylor. “Because she says she’s not magical.”
“I thought she couldn’t talk.”
“She wrote it down.”
“Oh.” Emmett stared at Norie. “She’s…That is, you’re the only one who can remove it. I can tell you how, if that’ll help.”
Norie’s gaze slid up to Taylor’s. Fear flickered in her eyes, and he gave her a one-armed squeeze. “It wouldn’t hurt to try, sweetheart.”
She looked at him a moment longer. Then her gaze cleared, and she gave a firm, decisive nod. She moved away from Taylor and then stood before Emmett. She lifted a hand and made a “c’mon” gesture.
“Yeah. Um, okay. You’re necro, so your power originates from…well, spirits and residual death type stuff. The older the place, the better the necro vibes. Like here’s good ’cause this place has been around awhile, and people have died here an’ stuff. But, you know, cemeteries are like the ultimate mojo for you.” Emmett cleared his throat. “Like everyone else, you borrow from the elements, from nature, but it’s…not quite the same. And thanaturges are like…way, way out there. Like überness, you know?”
“I’ve heard of thaurmaturges,” said Taylor. “But not thanaturges. How do you know that’s what she is?”
“ ’Cause that’s her vibe,” said Emmett. “Every magical has a vibe. It’s kinda how we know who’s who. Anyway, she’s a necro, for sure. But she’s like pulsing with the death energy. I mean, honestly? I didn’t know any existed. The last recorded thanaturge was…jeez. A hundred years ago, at least.”
Taylor was reassessing his idea of Emmett helping Norie. The kid was a damned mess and appeared so scatterbrained that it seemed unlikely he could teach Norie anything useful. And if Emmett was wrong, and his own magic somehow harmed her, then Taylor would have to kill him.
“Is there a master wizard around?” he asked. “Or maybe a Raven who could help us?”
“Ravens aren’t altruistic,” said Emmett. “And I’m good. Really good. If she can call up the magic, I can show her how to use it.”
Taylor opened his mouth to protest again, but Norie punched him in the arm. He looked down at her. She made a slashing motion over her throat that he took to mean, “Shut up.”
He took a few steps back, readjusting the lockbox in his left hand. He wasn’t sure what to expect, and tension ribboned through him.
“Okay,” said Emmett. “You know the first stance, right? The one you use to call the magic for the elements? In your case, that’s the ghosts. Or decay. Something’s always dead or dying somewhere. That’s your conjure point. And you know it’s one of the five points you use to call for the magic from the elements and commove into your spell.”
Taylor bit back a grin at the look of astonishment on Norie’s face. Emmett kept describing the process without taking notice that his student wasn’t exactly keeping up. The fact that the kid was so excited about describing what to do without any regard for Norie’s obvious cluelessness didn’t exactly inspire confidence in the sheriff.
Taylor had never really paid attention to the ins and outs of magical instruction. When he went to the academy to get his police training, he had to take the required courses in uses of the law enforcement–approved magical objects, and, of course, the courses that taught him how to survive magical attack and take down magicals. Neither of those situations had occurred in his nearly six years as sheriff. Still, the information was useful to have. It wouldn’t help him in a full-on magical onslaught, but mundanes rarely came out from those altercations smelling like roses—or alive, for that matter. So, he knew how to use the tools given to him, though he tried not to implement those things too often. He preferred the direct, mundane route, though he certainly didn’t mind having magicals for friends. They sure did come in handy from time to time.
He stifled the urge to interfere. Norie had asked him, sorta, to stay out of it. The lockbox with Banton’s gun felt heavier by the moment, and he was startled to feel itchy. Still, he knew it was important for Norie to get her voice back, and even though he had a bad feeling about what was going to unfold in the next few minutes, he decided there wasn’t much he could do about it. Sometimes, you just had to go with the flow and assess the damage afterward. Yep, sometimes it was all about the cleanup.
Norie was trying to keep up with Emmett’s instruction, even following some of the kid’s moves. He didn’t think for a minute that Norie would be able to conjure up anything viable, much less fix the whole “globby” issue. It made sense that the girl was a magical, maybe even this so-called thanaturge, and that would draw the attention of the Ravens. But Kahl? How did he come into things? And demons? Or ghosts, as Trent had insisted on. What was the end game? And why taint the portal to the Goddess fountain, which was, at this point, still just a working theory about Nevermore?
“Okay,” said Emmett. He had a self-satisfied expression on his face. “I think she understands.”
Taylor gave them both a thumbs-up and prepared to watch the show. Or rather, he prepared to watch nothing. Still, his mama didn’t raise no fool, so he stepped back—way back.
“So, you start with feeling around for the dead stuff,” said Emmett. “Start the first point of the five you need to create the energy.”
Norie nodded, though she didn’t seem too sure about “feeling around for dead stuff.” Still, she made an effort, going so far as to close her eyes and scrunch up her face.
Goddess, she was cute.
“Got the first point?” asked Emmett. “Think of it like strings that you’re gonna tie together. You draw out the first one, then the next, and the next…until you’ve kinda braided all five together. Then you have the convergence and the magic. Then you direct it what to do.” He pointed to her neck and made wiggling motions.
Yeah, thought Taylor, easy as pie. If the pie were made of disconcertion and calculus.
Norie cracked open one eye and offered a half-moon glare. The boy offered a somewhat pompous smile, as though his quick and twisty instruction hadn’t just confused the living hell out of his student.
“Ready?” asked Emmet.
Norie nodded, squeezed her eyes closed, and lifted her arms. She pointed her fingers, took a deep breath, and then went very still.
Seconds ticked by, and nothing happened. Emmett didn’t seem entirely concerned that Norie wasn’t calling forth any magic. Taylor wasn’t too surprised, though. He wondered how long he should let this craziness continue.
The air went suddenly electric.
All the hair on Taylor’s body rose, and then an ungodly wail shot through the room. The lamentation was filled with pain and terror and echoed off the walls, bouncing around until it split into several terror-filled exclamations. As the noise faded, the temperature dropped—one minute, Taylor was breathing normal, if not stale, air, and then the nex
t, he was drawing in air so cold, it scraped his lungs.
“Uh-oh,” said Emmett.
Taylor glanced at him sharply. “What?”
Emmett’s teeth were chattering, and everyone’s breath issued little puffs. It was as if the room had been turned into a walk-in freezer.
“Emmett,” said Taylor, his voice low with warning.
“She’s way powerful,” offered the mage. “But she’s blocked. It’s like her power is bleeding around…oh.” His eyes went wide. “Do you think her powers were bound, or something? I mean, that would make sense. Probably cursed as a kid, before she really knew what she could do, or whatever. The thing is, curses can’t last forever. There’s always a time limit, so maybe hers is almost over. That’s why she can sorta access the magic, but it’s all weird and stuff, ’cause she doesn’t know what she’s doing.” He tapped his temple. “She’s winging it. Instinctual, you know?”
“Maybe,” managed Taylor through clenched teeth, “you should’ve figured that out before your damned magic lesson.”
Emmett looked wounded. “It’s not like curses are always obvious.”
Taylor resisted the urge to unsnap the gun from his holster so he could shoot Emmett. The mage took one look at Taylor’s face and scuttled away a few steps, his nervous gaze switching to Norie.
Norie hadn’t moved at all. Her eyes were still closed, her breathing shallow, and she remained eerily still.
“What’s going on?” demanded Taylor.
Now or Never: Wizards of Nevermore Page 13