Enchanter's Echo

by Anise Rae

  Aurora was trustworthy on that. Gwyn’s temper wasn’t worth the risk. Turning from temptation, she leaned the front of her hips against the counter and stared down at the newspaper. It was opened and folded to an article. She did a double take at the headline.

  Northern Alliance Falters. Rallis Again Refuses to Join.

  That explained Gwyn’s bad mood. Noble Territory was depending on that alliance to increase their clout. Though she’d fled her controlling family, she loved her home territory. All mages did.

  Aurora skimmed the article, slowing when she reached the quote from Senator Jonathan Noble. The man still sent shivers down her spine.

  “Without Rallis’s participation, the northern territories will never have the clout to protect our interests against the power of the Southern Alliance. Our bills repeatedly fail in the Senate and the High Council turns a blind eye to the issues that plague our people. Rallis Territory sits smack in the middle of us all, preening like a fat cat eating mice served on fine china. They have everything, even an enchantress, while the territories directly bordering them suffer.”

  Gwyn’s dad really knew how to blame everyone else for his problems.

  The shop door opened. She looked up knowing who it was before he appeared. An unstoppable smile spread across her face as Edmund entered, and it had nothing to do with the two coffees in his hands. Well, almost nothing.

  “Good morning, princess.” His pink cheeks and the disheveled dark curls across his forehead were evidence of another cold, windy day. His blue eyes looked paler than usual and they were tight at the edges. A tendril of worry unfurled.

  “Oh, great.” Gwyn’s sharp voice interrupted Aurora’s blush as she hollered from the back office. “Lover boy. I’m out of here.” The back door opened and slammed shut.

  “Was it something I said?” Edmund asked.

  “She’s having a bad day.” Aurora stared at the lumpy blanket sitting on the length of the bottom shelf and then turned her back on Gwyn’s rancorous gift.

  “What is that?” He nodded toward the lump.

  “Don’t know. A surprise for me.” She reached for the coffee in his right hand, but he switched, moving his left hand toward her.

  “Creamed and sugared. A surprise, huh? Is your mage day coming up?”

  “It’s passed. December 21st.”

  “Appropriate.” His voice was low and solemn. “The peak of the dark’s reign and then a golden princess lights up the longest night.” He leaned forward, brushing his lips against her temple and bringing the chill of the outside to her skin. He traveled kisses over her face to the tender skin of her ear.

  “I knew to come to your shop first, but I was hoping you’d stay in bed.”

  “The summons didn’t go well?”

  He shook his head, lips pursed. She leaned over the counter, jostling the newspaper. “Well, then, let’s see if this will help.” Reaching for the thick, stiff collar of his workmage’s jacket, she held him still while she targeted his lips for a kiss that would melt his insides. His taste was like home, heat and power all wrapped into one.

  He danced his tongue against hers and sealed their mouths hard, as if he was desperate to drink her in. But he didn’t stay long. He broke the kiss and, cupping her face, pressed his forehead to hers.

  She looked up at him from beneath her eyelashes. “What happened?”

  He straightened. His nose flared and his eyes narrowed. He put his hand on the paper with a deep breath.

  She looked down at it. “The Nobles? Is that what you’re upset about? They aren’t worth it. I wouldn’t join their alliance either if I were you.”

  “You haven’t read the rest?” He lifted the counter’s bridge and crossed to the other side, picking up the paper as he reached her.

  “You mean about Wasten’s wife?”

  “What about her?” He frowned.

  “She died. There’s not much in there though. Just when she was born and that she’s survived by her family.”

  He blinked away for a moment, thoughtful, and then tipped his head at her. “That’s not what I was talking about, no.”

  She bit her lip as a tendril of unease wound around her. “Is there something about the fissures?”

  “Not in so many words.” He stroked her cheek with the back of her hand.

  She gripped his wrist to steady herself, her head gone dizzy. She didn’t need to hear the words. She knew. “Oh, Edmund.” Something sank to the bottom of her gut. Her dignity, her pride, her privacy. “What page?”

  “The front,” he growled. She slipped the paper from his hand and flipped through. The front page. Naturally. The sketch pictured a naked woman…her…on top of the fountain, arms reached high, head tilted to the side, an obviously pleased smile on her face. The moon highlighted her form with its white beam, her breasts casting shadows onto her belly. Nothing was hidden.

  Slowly she dropped her gaze to the article in slow motion, the world spinning around her. She caught flashes of phrases. “Buck-naked. And a bottom that jiggles?” Her sobs welled up before she could get her hands over her face. Her body shook with the horror. Exposed. She wanted to curl up inside herself, pull all her parts in, from her legs and her chest to her mind and her heart. Hide away forever. But there was nowhere to tuck into, no place left to conceal herself … all her shields had been rendered. There was nothing left to cover her up.

  Edmund reached his arms around her, pulling her into him gently. He gave her space to shake the sobs out, but he didn’t let go. He conjured one handkerchief after the other, handing them over or blotting her tears himself.

  “Where are you getting these?” she finally asked between sobs. He just shrugged and she began to worry that businessmen all over the city were going to find themselves unable to blow their noses because their handkerchiefs had been sequestered with a spell.

  Finally, she slumped against him, sobbed out, wrung out. She stared at the paper. “I’m so glad my father can’t see this.” She looked up at him, but even his eyes against her rawness were too much. “Hold me tighter,” she whispered, burrowing into him.

  “I’m sorry, Ror.” His rough voice vibrated against her.

  “My fault. I did it. I should have been using my mage sense. You warned me. But I suck at it. I went naked in a public park. What was I thinking? I’ve always been so careful. It had just been so long since I’d communed.”

  “I should have grabbed you and run out of there. I’m sorry, Ror. My grandfather made sure no one could recast the image. He hired—”

  Another group of sobs burst from her chest. “Your grandfather saw this?” Between sobs, she recited the horrifying list of names. “Your mother. Everyone at the diner. The junkyard gang, my customers. The entire territory has seen me naked!”

  He rubbed her back. “The entire territory is grateful to you for calling down the goddess’s blessing on a park that was decimated by hate and anger and the death of innocents.”

  Before the sobs finished, she pushed away from his arms. Face clenched and wet, she reached with both hands and scrunched the newspaper into a stiff ball then tossed it away.

  He destroyed it before it reached the ground. She stopped his spell without a thought.

  “Look at me, Ror,” he demanded with a soft voice.

  “No. I’m so embarrassed.”

  “I’m not.” The two words were hard with conviction. “I’m proud that you’re mine, at what you’re able to do. The goddess herself couldn’t look anymore perfect than you do. Even your power is pristine.”

  She lifted her heavy eyes to glance at him, but she couldn’t hold his gaze for long. She covered her face with her hands.

  “My secretary called me on the way over and said the gratitude charms are piling up, both around the fountain and at the gates of the estate. I guess people assume you’re living there. I don’t know what you’re going to do with them all, but it would be a waste to let them rot.”

&
nbsp; She lifted her head. “You have a secretary?”

  He shrugged, unabashed.

  “I suppose an heir needs a secretary. I guess I don’t think of you as that very often.” She sniffed and her sobs returned. “Someone else can have the gratitude charms. Because I’m never leaving my house again.”

  * * * *

  He’d come up with a couple dozen ways to kill the reporter. Aurora’s tears had inspired him. Each method was more violent than the last. He held her tight against his chest, helpless to fix this. Less than a week ago, few people in the Republic knew his special girl existed. Now everyone knew her down to the placement of her freckles. Fury fired through him with real heat. He was too hot in his coat, but he wasn’t going to let go of Aurora to take it off.

  With his mage sense wide open…vibing hells, he was never shutting it off again…he could sense the guard, Gregor, at the front door. Another mage approached. Edmund kept his arms around Aurora, knowing Gregor would stop whoever it was, but the presence drew closer until he could hear footsteps.

  “Sir,” Gregor’s sound waves penetrated as if the door wasn’t even there. “There’s a woman here from P.U.R.E.”

  Vibing hells. His mother worked fast. “Send her away.”

  “Please, Lord Rallis.” Unlike Gregor, the woman’s voice barely carried. “I’ve been…ordered.” He clenched his jaw at the pathetic meekness, though he was careful not to disturb Aurora in his arms.

  “Ordered to do what?” Aurora whispered. She didn’t lift her head, still not looking at him. His heart dropped an inch farther. “Who’s out there?”

  “Ignore her,” he ordered softly.

  “I have some questions, some updates on the rally.” The interloper’s voice lifted on the last word as if it were a question. “I…I have to tell you. I can’t go back to her without telling you. What will she do to me?”

  Aurora lifted her head at the fear in the woman’s voice. “What will who do to her?”

  At least she was looking at him now.

  “Your mother?” she asked.

  “Will she chop off something?” P.U.R.E. girl’s wobbly voice was beginning to grate his ears. “Do they really do that?”

  “I think we’re going to start,” he muttered.

  “Courage, ma’am,” Gregor offered from the other side of the door.

  Aurora pushed from his arms with a small huff and lifted the counter’s bridge. She passed the towering stack of crumpled handkerchiefs and paced to the door.

  “Ror. Don’t fall for this.” The only reason he let her go was that she held her head high. Plus the weak power on the other side of the door would be no match for him or Gregor, but if the P.U.R.E. rep so much as mentioned the article or looked askew at his girl, he was going to chop off his first body part.

  Aurora opened the door to reveal a small, young woman with big brown eyes. She looked like a malformed mouse facing a lion. At her feet, a dozen vibe violets had sprouted through the cracked concrete.

  Impressive touch. He wouldn’t have thought to do that.

  The woman cowered. Edmund glared at her behind Aurora’s back, letting his dark power rise to the surface. Beneath the meek act, he was certain she had her mage sense on, figuring out how to play this game. His mother would have sent no less.

  “You had something to tell Edmund?” Aurora asked when the tiny trespasser didn’t speak. “Would you like to come in?”

  He should have confiscated Jasper. Ror didn’t even know not to let them in.

  P.U.R.E.’s rep shakily crossed the threshold, trying to hold Edmund’s gaze and failing. “The location’s been changed, Lord Rallis. It’s at the Kroegy Amphitheater. I have tickets and a parking pass for you, Lady Aurora.” She reached into her purse and pulled out the tickets. A vibe violet tumbled to the floor from the depths of her purse. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I just leak power everywhere when I’m nervous. I try to pick them all, but there’s just too many.”

  This was overkill.

  “It’s all right.” Aurora bent down to pick up the crushed blossom. “I leak power, too, when I’m nervous.”

  The annoying mouse’s face lit up as she gazed at Aurora like she was a goddess. “You do?” she gasped. “You’re so beautiful. Here.” She shoved the tickets at Aurora like they were a humble present.

  “What are these for?” Aurora looked down at them. “The P.U.R.E. rally?” Her shock gave him a very wrong sense of satisfaction. Now she’d know not to open the door to strangers. “The tickets say the Palace Theater. Not the Kroegy.”

  “That’s because Lady Rallis just changed the location. We haven’t had a chance to print new tickets, but it’s still good. We’d be honored to have you. She said Lord Rallis could make any adjustments to the agenda, but I’m sure you could too.”

  Edmund crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s your name?”

  “Molly Blackwell.”

  “Molly, how long have you worked for P.U.R.E.? A few minutes?” Since his mother had picked up a landline and ordered them to find a dark mage to send to him?

  “No, sir. A few days,” she squeaked. “I’m really an accountant. I’m only volunteering for P.U.R.E. I joined after the enchantress attended the ball and…it was in the newspapers, you know. Everyone who lives in the Pipe knows about the enchantress, and I thought if she went to the event, then they must be inclusive. And now the rally’s even been moved to the Pipe. To the Kroegy. Did you know the late metallist designed it? I studied him in architecture school...before I switched to accounting, that is.”

  Well played, Mother. He hadn’t known. But Aurora would have.

  “Molly, I don’t do P.U.R.E. events anymore.” Aurora shook her head. “And I won’t until all mages are welcome. When your colors are black and white, you can come back. And if you have some gray in there, I’ll be really impressed.” She tacked the last part on like it was an afterthought. A few crickets chirped to his mage sense. A lie. But he admired her tactic. She’d as good as said she’d never join P.U.R.E.

  “The gray! The fairies?” Molly squeaked. “Oh, dear me!”

  He had to admit he was with Molly on this one. According to the stories, the gray were the illegitimate offspring of the goddess’s consort. While Edmund didn’t believe in blaming the children for the sins of their fathers, he didn’t want the gray moving into his land. An unofficial meeting to ensure discreet, peaceful relations…fine. But he wasn’t standing on a stage next to one in front of his entire territory.

  Nevertheless, he had Aurora’s back on this, as he did on everything. “The pathetic meekness is a nice touch, Molly, but it’s coming on a little thick.” He looked down his nose, donning the founders’ scorn that every family excelled at.

  The woman’s face pulled into a sad frown so exaggerated it was in danger of falling off her chin. Then her lower lip trembled.

  Aurora spun to him. “Edmund. Rallis.” She ducked under the counter’s bridge in a practiced move. She put her hands on his chest and pushed. “Go. Away.”

  He might have been alarmed except her hands stayed in contact with his body. If she was still touching him, everything was all right. He walked backwards with her force, humoring her, until he ended up in her workshop. She closed the door in his face.

  He blinked, shocked. This was progress. Aurora had just shut him inside her personal space. His heart lightened, quite a feat considering his morning.

  He surveyed her room. Small, enchanted tools lined the wall, sized to fit her hand. A stool sat at her workbench. In the windowsill, a row of potted plants flowered despite winter. Her heart was in this room. And so was he. He almost smiled.

  Crooking his head toward the door, he used his vibes to pull the conversation in the next room to his ears.

  “Please forgive him. He’s upset about the newspaper.”

  “Oh, I understand,” the mouse squeaked. “Of course Lord Rallis is mad. You’re his. It’s so romantic really.”

&nbs
p; This Molly wasn’t so bad after all.

  “You live in the Pipe?” Aurora asked.

  “All my life. Born and raised a Rallis mage.” She was a proud little Rallis mouse.

  “Well, Rallis is…lucky to have you.” This time he did smile as his girl delivered the patriotic line. The people were going to love her. “You’ve delivered your message. Lady Rallis will be pleased.”

  He tuned out Molly’s lengthy goodbye and strode around Aurora’s workshop. Wasten’s toaster sat on her bench. He picked it up. If he hadn’t had his mage sense so wide open to eavesdrop on Aurora’s conversation, he might have missed it. He squinted into the bread slot. Chaos vibrated…a tiny evil, sitting at her elbow all this time. So small he’d missed it all this time.

  In the front room, the door opened and then closed a moment later. The mouse was gone.

  Aurora burst into her workshop. “That was rude and uncalled for, and what are you doing with that toaster?” Her voice faded as she read his expression.

  He wanted to smash the thing, destroy it from existence. He set it away from him, then pulled her in toward him.

  “What now?” Her voice was already small. She laid her head against his chest and he wasn’t sure if he should be pleased. Was she hiding from him again or seeking comfort and protection?

  “The toaster has a fissure in it.” He delivered the blow swiftly, like chopping off a body part. Only this whole disaster was chopping at her sweetness, her kindness. He tightened his grip around her.

  She went still, lying against him. “Are you sure?” Her voice was muffled. She broke his grip and marched over to the offending appliance and squinted at it.

  “Pull the bond through.” It was as simple as that. “If you can fix it, we’ll have our answer.”

  “And if it is a fissure…”

  “I’ll hunt Wasten to the ends of the earth.”

  “I thought your brother was supposed to do that.”

  “I’ll help.”

  She squinted her eyes shut. “Who the heck puts a fissure inside a toaster? How is this even possible? And how could I not have noticed it before? I’ve examined this thing front and back, inside and out. I’m good at working with enchanted metal. I’ve fixed this thing twice only to have it break again like I never did anything to it. This makes no sense, Edmund.”