“Cameron and I ran into a little trouble on our way here.” Elena settled back in her chair, having already decided that full disclosure would be the best course of action. Particularly since she would need the good doctor’s help. “Apparently, Nigel’s decided that hiring people to kidnap me is the best way to make a good impression.”
Alarm crossed the mirror’s face, though he was quick to collect himself. “I didn’t notice any injuries on you or young Mr. Merrick,” he asked, examining her for any sign of a bruise or tender shoulder.
“There was only one man, though he was about half as big as Cameron. Together, we managed to knock him unconscious and get him carted away without either of us being the worse for wear.” She felt like she was shorting Cam’s part in it, but she didn’t dare sound too complimentary around Dr. Flyte. He’d make far too much out of it. “The problem is that I doubt this is Nigel’s last brilliant idea.”
“No, I can’t imagine that it is.” The mirror was solemn. “Are you planning to tell your mother?”
Elena hadn’t decided the answer to that question yet. “She knows about the other two incidents and didn’t lock me inside the castle. Cameron and I proved as competent together as Alan and I were, so I’m at least as well protected as before.”
Dr. Flyte raised an eyebrow at the entirely non-committal response. “Clearly, you’re still giving the matter some thought.”
Not able to properly argue, she waved the chain of questioning aside. “What’s really important is that we find out more about Prince Nigel. He told us he was a younger son from Long Ago, but right now I think it’s safest not to believe a word that’s come out of his mouth.” She leaned forward, letting herself look hopeful. “You have more contacts than anyone in the kingdom, including Bishop. Is there any way you could talk to them? Even if we can’t figure out where he’s really from, it’s might be possible to find out where he’s hiding.”
Dr. Flyte considered this. “If he’s still within the boundaries of the kingdom, your guardsman might be more useful in this particular quest.”
“He’s not—” Elena snapped her mouth closed, realizing that the term was technically accurate. And arguing against emotional shadings he likely hadn’t even meant would only make her look like a fool. “Alan and Marie will likely be even more helpful. I’ll ask Cameron once the appointment ends.”
“And I’ll see what I can do on my end. An old friend of mine, a dragon named Mandrake, may know something—I believe he has relatives near Long Ago.” Dr. Flyte’s voice was pleasant, but his gaze was alarmingly focused. “So, it sounds as though you and Cameron Merrick are getting along better than you were during our last appointment.”
She lifted her chin, refusing to be baited. “He’s less infuriating than I’d initially thought he was. There’s no longer any threat of me snapping and killing him.” She smiled deliberately, deflecting. “Which I know must disappoint you.”
Dr. Flyte sighed. “I just want you to talk to me, Elena. I’m supposed to be here to help.”
Inconveniently, the memory of Cam’s comment flashed across her mind. Seeing you shout is the only time they have any idea what’s going on inside your head.
Elena softened her expression. “You are helping me. Information is what I need most right now, and there’s no one at it better than you.” Once she’d admitted that to herself, it seemed childish to let her fear stand in the way of getting that information. She took a deep breath. “I would also like you to be involved when we do another full examination of my curse. You’ve been involved in all the other examinations, and I want this one to include only those I trust the most.”
The doctor’s ghostly face went absolutely still. “You’re planning another examination? Full projection, protection circle, a full complement of study spells?” Only when she nodded did he allow his surprise to show. “We haven’t held one of those in—”
“Years, I know,” she finished for him. “I haven’t told anyone else yet, and I ask that you don’t say anything until I do.” He opened his mouth again, and she held up a hand. “Yes, I will ask my mother. With all the alert spells she has up, there’s no way I could hide such a large spell casting from her.”
“She’s also the finest sorceress in the kingdom,” Dr. Flyte said mildly.
“I’m going to ask her, Doctor. I promise.”
The mirror nodded. “Then I would be honored to participate. And I won’t say anything to Braeth or your mother until you’ve figured out the way you want to present the situation.” He paused. “I would suggest honesty, however.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Of course you would.”
Dr. Flyte simply smiled in response, making the image of a monocle appear over one of his eyes. “Now, my dear, let’s talk about any dreams you’ve been having.”
Chapter 8
Exploding Socks and Pirates
Cam still didn’t know what on earth Elena thought she’d figured out from his showdown with Bill—he’d been babbling, basically, and the man was dumb enough a rock probably could have fooled him. But when he’d explained both very logical points, she’d just smiled at him in the way his mom did when his dad didn’t have the slightest chance of winning an argument.
So, wisely, he stopped arguing. He comforted himself with the thought that she was just getting him back for ambushing her that night in the woods. Sure, his version was genius insight while hers made no sense, but he could let her pretend she had something.
Still, in the days following, he found other things to argue with her about. Nothing serious—no need to remind her how good she was at pushing his buttons. Just enough to keep her from going quiet on him. She hadn’t said a word about the timing of the blackouts for days now, despite the fact that she’d had two more brief ones, and Cam could only imagine what was going through her head.
He didn’t feel he could push the issue again—she’d already shut him down once—but seeing a spark in her eyes made him feel better.
“So, is this the Sunday I’m going to come back and find that you and Braeth have blown up half the castle?” Cam perched on the edge of Elena’s desk in what he was starting to think of as his spot. “Everyone keeps talking about the possibility, but I have yet to see decent wreckage out of the two of you.”
“I don’t see why everyone can’t just let that go,” Elena huffed. “It was once when I was eight, and the crater wasn’t nearly as big as people make it out to be.”
It was easy to picture her as a kid, glaring at everyone because they were overreacting to one measly little fireball. “The one thing no one’s ever told me is how it happened.”
She didn’t say anything, looking stubborn. Then the corners of her mouth twitched upward. “Braeth was helping me make some warming socks, but I decided they took too long to heat up. I tried tweaking the spell.”
“And accidentally blew up the socks.” He couldn’t stop the chuckle. “I should ask you to make me some for my birthday. We’ve got a guy back at the station with a nasty habit of borrowing people’s things without asking.”
“If I could control when they exploded, you would have gotten a set your first night here.” Still, her smile widened. “Your parents would have been upset, but it would have been worth it.”
“I should probably be relieved you put all of that in past tense, but I’m definitely going to start checking my socks from now on.”
Elena shook her head. “It’s no fun now that you’d see it coming.” Closing the book he’d spent the last twenty minutes distracting her from reading, she turned to the clock sitting on the fireplace mantle. “Speaking of your parents, you should really leave now if you don’t want to be late for Sunday dinner. Mrs. Feeney’s daughter’s in town, so she’s going to drag out filling your bread order as long as humanly possible.”
Cam winced, remembering Mrs. Feeney’s rhapsodic mentions of “bubbly, fun T
amara” that he’d somehow managed to repress. Then his brain caught on a more immediate question. “How do you know about Mrs. Feeney’s daughter? Do you sneak into town and chat with random villagers after I go to sleep?”
She shot him a look that held equal measures of amusement and pity. “Mrs. Feeney makes early morning deliveries to the palace. She asked me if you were seeing anyone.”
“And you told her?” He swore under his breath, shaking his head. “I know I said I didn’t want you lying to me, but for me is a completely different thing. It’s basic kindness when you see someone like Mrs. Feeney coming.”
Elena gave him a faintly chiding look. “If I’d invented a girlfriend for you, Mrs. Feeney would have told everyone in the immediate vicinity before the week was out. Then you’d have everyone in town harassing you about your secret girlfriend, someone would ask your parents about it, and you’d have to admit what happened to any real girl you might be interested in dating.”
Cam wanted to argue, what Elena said made an unfortunate amount of sense. “Okay, you have a point,” he said, less than thrilled with his list of options. He could avoid the bakery entirely, but when he showed up at home empty handed he would then have to explain the entire story to his parents. There was another bakery a half-mile away, but it would take him three times as long to make it home and he’d still have to explain.
The only way he wouldn’t have to explain was if he went by Mrs. Feeney’s, let Tamara giggle all over him, and escaped as quickly as he could. Of course, if he offended her at all Mrs. Feeney would probably start poisoning the bread. So he’d have to go through with the date, and hope that “bubbly” wasn’t code for “so inane you want to choke yourself just to stop listening to her.” And then he’d have to keep dating her, because heaven help the man who broke the heart of Mrs. Feeney’s little angel.
“Cam.” Elena’s voice, a little surprised and far more serious than it had been, broke his train of thought. “Is it really that bad? You just have to flirt with her daughter for a few minutes. Even if she’s unattractive, I’m sure your charm can stretch that far.”
“No, I will have to date her daughter, who her beloved mother describes as ‘bubbly.’ I’ve dated bubbly girls, and while it’s cute for the first five minutes after that you want to smother them with a pillow.” He rubbed a hand across his eyes. “Do you know how hard it is to say no to an old lady who knows exactly where both you and your parents live? Unless I start acting like a jerk, I’m probably stuck with at least one date. And once I go out with one old lady’s daughter, every other friendly shopkeeper with single children is going to be expecting the same thing. I’m setting a really bad precedent.”
She leaned her chin on her hand, just watching him now. “If I knew an old lady could rattle you so much, I would have put more effort into protecting you.” The corners of her mouth quirked upward again. “Of course, this could all be for nothing. You might meet this girl, stare into her eyes, and fall instantly in love.”
Still perched on the edge of the desk, Cam gave her a disgusted look. “That doesn’t happen unless black magic or potions are involved.”
Elena’s lips twitched in a way that made her look like she was suppressing a chuckle. “I’m amazed you haven’t considered the possibility that she may not like you. It would solve all your problems.”
That caught him short for a second. The truth was, he hadn’t considered the possibility. He made a good first impression with everyone, unless you were Elena,and if he defaulted to his usual charm he couldn’t see any reason why she’d say no right away. It was only after he’d been seeing a girl for a couple of months that they started tallying up the reasons why he was a bad idea.
This time, Elena let the laugh slip out as she straightened. “You truly didn’t think of that, did you? I don’t know whether I should be impressed by your self-confidence or start making fun of your ego.”
He made an exasperated noise. “Fine, so maybe I’ll get off scott free. Would you blindly trust a ‘maybe’ that you couldn’t do anything about?”
She hesitated, then lifted a hand in acknowledgement. “Fine. I’ll apologize. Next time this happens I’ll create an obsessively jealous fake girlfriend for you. I wouldn’t want you to have to face the sweet old lady all alone.”
Cam’s brain, desperate for something he could work with, seized on the last few words. “Or you could come with me.”
She blinked, surprised, then glared. “I’m not pretending to be your girlfriend.”
Cam shook his head, grimacing as he imagined the disasters that would spring up if they tried that little lie. If nothing else, her mother might eventually hear it. “No, no. That would just be asking for trouble. But if you come to dinner with me, you can go in and get the bread.” He stepped closer, a cajoling edge to his voice. Just because it was harder to charm Elena didn’t mean it was impossible. “I get to avoid meeting Tamara, and you get an evening of my parents’ cooking. As a bonus, you can mock me all the way there. We both win.”
She still wasn’t convinced, but she’d clearly started thinking about it. “So I’m supposed to go in and chat with Mrs. Feeney and Tamara while you, what, hide in the bushes? The windows of that store are big enough they could both see you standing outside.”
He sighed, knowing she was right. Still, the thought of having backup made him dread the entire situation a little less. “It’ll still be better if you come inside with me. If nothing else, I’ll have the excuse to leave early because you’re a guest.”
Elena met his gaze. “Would your parents really be okay with me—” She cut off the sentence before Cam could shoot her an incredulous look. “No, I can’t even make myself finish the question.”
“You always struck me as a smart woman,” he said dryly. “Now that we have that taken care of, what’s your next excuse?”
“Maybe I just don’t want to go with you. As happy as I normally am to spend time with your parents, your regular Sunday dinner routine is one of my few chances to get a break from you.”
He leaned back against the edge of the desk, not at all offended. If the edge of frost wasn’t in her voice, she didn’t really mean it as an insult. “I admit that you’re weirdly immune to my powers, and I suppose it’s possible that I’m annoying enough to counteract the majesty of my mom’s marinated chicken. Given both those things, it makes total sense that you’d want to stay here and have a tense, awkward dinner with your mother and Bishop.”
She almost winced, then stopped herself. “I’ll just have dinner in my room. I did it last week, and spent a very restful evening studying.”
“You’ve had dinner in your room every Sunday since I’ve gotten here.” He let the sympathy come through in his voice, knowing how frustrating it was when the facts stacked up against you. “You keep it up, either your mother or Bishop is going to snap and make you tell them what’s wrong.”
Elena mulled that over. “She’ll still wonder why I went to your parents’ house. Alan didn’t usually get me out there unless there was a major holiday or he was worried about me.” At Cam’s questioning look, smiled a little. “He always said it was your mother who was worried, but your father has this way of herding people. The few times that Marie actually has been worried, she always just called and invited me herself.”
“Oh, Dad’s had Mom call before, but it’s really just an expansion of the herding thing,” he said, thinking of the mirror call that had gotten him here in the first place. Luckily, it had turned out to be way less of a torture session than he’d thought it would be. “And she only agrees to play herd dog if she thinks you should be going in the same direction.”
“Your parents are mildly terrifying when they team up.” Elena sounded amused as she said it, but her expression made it clear she was still thinking too hard. “I can’t imagine my mother hasn’t picked up on the pattern, however. If I go to dinner at your parents’ house,
she’ll think they’re worried about me. Given the fact that she and Bishop are already worried about me, the results will be almost as bad as if I ate alone in my room.”
Cam shook his head, ready with a counter for this line of reasoning. “My dad hasn’t seen you in a couple of weeks, and he hasn’t been hovering over my shoulder checking to see if I’m doing his job right. Even if it’s not true, anyone who knows him will believe he’s asking you over to get a sense of whether I’m screwing up or not.”
That seemed to surprise her. “He hasn’t been by the palace once since you got here. I know he’s controlling, but I thought the fact that he’s virtually disappeared meant that he at least trusts his children.”
“That, or my mom threatened him.” Privately, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know which was the real answer. “But is your mother going to know that?”
Elena opened her mouth, then caught sight of the clock out. “Okay, now you’re going to be late anyway.” Her voice firmed as she made shooing motions with her hands. “Go. Mrs. Feeney should let you go fairly quickly if you say your family won’t start dinner until you get there. No good son wants to hold up the family meal.”
He glanced at the clock, realizing that he’d talked away most of his travel time. If he was smart he’d leave now, and even then he’d have to be really quick with the bread pick up. Even Tamara probably wouldn’t have time to cause him too much trouble.
And Elena would be here, either alone or sharing that awful chilly silence with her mother, while he was at home, eating delicious food and enjoying his pick of at least three different conversations going on at once. Even if you didn’t take part in any of them, they made for an interesting soundtrack.
Besides, his parents really would enjoy seeing her.
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