As we pulled out of the driveway, Lexie cleared her throat. “What mischief is on tap for today, Granny Gwen?”
“Today's lesson is going to be all about the fundamentals of genus magic.”
“But if she's making zombies, then isn't she past that?”
Grandma gave her a curious look and answered, “Raising the dead is magic, dearie. Necromancy is her innate genus magic and the bracelet bestows an additional six magics. Before she can do anything reliably, she needs to learn about how to cast the magic she has. Up until now, she's been sort of fumbling around in the dark, occasionally hitting that switch in her brain that casts magics.”
Lexie furrowed her blonde brows. “I don't get it.”
“If you've never seen or held a gun before, you wouldn't know to pull the trigger to make it fire. If you play around with it a bit, you might make it fire by accident, but until you understand how it works, you can't reproduce those results when you need them.”
She nodded her head from side to side, as if rolling the idea around in her mind. “That makes sense.”
Grandma chuckled. “I try.”
“So where are we going?” I chimed in as she parallel parked on a commercial side-street and turned off the car.
“We're going to a nice empty field in the state park, where you can train without the prying eyes of humans.”
“But what if someone walks by?” Lexie asked, rearranging the wrapped layers of the scarf around her neck.
“Not to worry, ladies.” She gave us a reassuring smile in the rear view mirror. “I've got a barrier glamour set with me that we can put up, so even if someone walks by, they won't see a thing.”
Sounding a little exasperated, Lexie asked, “How does that even work?”
Grandma simply shrugged in response. “But first, I've got to pick something up from a friend so I can make you girls a better glamour for tomorrow. Don't worry. We'll be back on our way in a few minutes.”
“Something?” Lexie asked, unbuckling her seat belt.
“Eye of newt, if you want to be specific.”
Her jaw dropped. “You're joking.”
Grandma smiled indulgently. “No, dearies, I'm not. Eye of newt is a very old, very rare spell ingredient.”
“Rare? It's in every freaking fictional potion ever.” There was a slight note of hysteria in Lexie's laughter.
Now the indulgence was replaced by annoyance. “The eyes come from a kind of rare Avalonian lava newt. They're hard to find and harder to breed, even for master fey farmers who've been breeding them for centuries. Eye of newt is the magical equivalent of saffron, except even more pricey.”
Avalon? As in faeries?
Grandma turned around and stared at me. “You look clueless. I keep forgetting your limited knowledge. Avalon is the home plane of the noble fae and the seat of both fey courts. I'll have to pick you girls up a few textbooks so you can catch up.”
I just nodded. All of this information was getting to be overwhelming.
“You girls wait right here. I'll be back in a jiffy. You can follow me, if you want.” With that, we got out and she walked into a high-end clothes boutique that had been there for almost as long as I could remember, leaving us standing on the sidewalk.
Was the old woman who ran it a mage? How many were there? How many times had I said hi to somebody and they weren't what they appeared? How could I learn to tell the difference?
Was the woman pushing her stroller on the other side of the street really a vampire? What about the children playing tag in the park across the road werewolf— rather, wolf shapeshifter— pups? Or how about the old man casually reading the newspaper and people watching?
Watching… me.
Without taking my eyes from him, I pawed blindly behind me for Lexie. “Hey, hey.”
“What?”
“Do you see that old man over there?”
She stepped forward so she stood next to me. “The guy in the wool jacket reading the newspaper?”
“He isn't reading it.”
“Yeah, he is.”
“He's staring right at me.”
She raised her eyebrow at me and laughed just a little. “No, sweetie, he's got his nose buried in that paper. I can barely see the top of his newsboy hat.”
How could we be seeing two different things unless there was magic in play here? Sure, it could have been a mage doing something as innocuous as people watching, but why use magic to hide it?
As soon as I started marching down the street to the man, his expression shifted from curiosity to surprise.
The man, who looked to be in his seventies, dropped his newspaper. With a thick Italian accent, he asked, “Ciao, bella. What can I do for you?”
I jabbed my finger at his chest. “You can tell me who the hell you are.”
He leaned back against the bench and stretched his arms across the top, acting like the king of the world. “I am but a humble old man out to enjoy an afternoon stroll. And yourself? What is a lovely young lady doing out all alone?”
“Why were you watching me?” I demanded, my voice growing louder. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see I was attracting stares, but I didn't care. I had to know what this man was up to.
“I may be old, but una rossa is still lovely to look at.”
From behind, a cold hand grabbed my arm. “I'm so sorry, sir, it seems her new meds aren't agreeing with her.”
“I'm sure,” the man nodded.
With her vise grip on my arm, she pulled me back down the street to the shop. “Come on, we're going inside.”
I struggled for a few feet, but she was too strong for me to fight. Glancing back, the old man was still staring at me with a smug smile on his face.
She pulled me along without chastising me, but not without mockery. “Paranoid much?”
Almost stumbling into the shop Grandma went in, I looked around, but couldn't spot her between the racks.
Lexie spun me around to face her. “I won't tell your grandma about your harassing an old man and neither will you. Now chill out. Window shop.”
“Hi,” a male voice sounded from behind me. I nearly leaped out of my skin and turned around to a familiar face. A teenage clerk stood with a genial smile and hands raised. “Whoa! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you.”
Lexie quickly excused herself and evacuated the area like it was radioactive.
He brushed the side-swept bangs that had grown a little too long from his eyes. “Can I help you with something today, miss?”
“No, I'm okay. Just wandering.” I backed up a step, hoping he would get my dismissal and go back to whatever he was doing.
“I'm really sorry if I scared you.” He stepped forward and put his hand on my elbow.
I gently pulled it away and turned around to walk away from him. “It's fine.”
“Could I help you make a selection, miss?” He rushed in front of me and held up a revealing cocktail dress that was a shade of yellow that would look absolutely terrible with my auburn hair. “This would look amazing on you.”
Certainly, even though he was a teenage boy, he couldn't be blind enough as to think that would look good on me. Sure, I'd lost more than a few pounds over the last few weeks—a fortunate byproduct of my unfortunate situation— but there was no mistaking the clash of colors.
Then I remembered I was wearing a glamour. Grandma had said people would see me as whatever woman they imagined me as. He must be seeing someone who was really hot. And not a ginger.
“Really, kid, I'm not looking for anything. I'm just waiting on my friend.”
Like lightning, his expression changed from solicitous to enraged. “Why won't you love me?”
It was like the whole room stopped. The other customers stopped milling around and all turned to look at us. Good God, what did he think I looked like?
A middle-aged woman that I'd seen a few times before marched to the boy and grabbed him by his ear. “Forgive my son, ma'am. He's been under a lot of stre
ss lately with his AP classes.” She shoved him to the back room. She must have thought she was out of earshot because she hissed at him, “What are you doing shouting at an old woman like that? Are you crazy?”
So I guess she saw me as an old woman.
She hurried back over to me. “Ma'am, I am so sorry for my son's behavior. Could I offer you a fifty percent discount on any item in the store?”
“That's okay, really. I'm sure he just got confused for a minute.”
She worried her lip. “Well, you just let me know if something strikes your eye. The discount is still on the table.” With that, she went to her son, snatching him by his ear and dragging him into the back room.
I let out the breath I'd been holding and went to find Lexie, who was idly perusing the jewelry counter. One hand stayed in her scarf, rolling and unrolling the edges of the fabric.
“I just realized that I don't have any money. I can't buy anything. This is torture,” she grumbled with a wistful look on her face. I couldn't imagine how she was feeling, not having the financial security of her trust fund.
“At least we're breathing.”
“You're breathing.” She turned to face me. “I only breathe when I need to talk.”
Breathing was such a constant thing, I hadn't even noticed.
She changed the topic. “This glamour stuff is weird to get used to. See that middle-aged guy over there? I've seen him at a few parties before and he always used to give me the look, but now I'm invisible.” Her smile said that was a very good thing.
I nodded my head, thankful for the new subject. “And you saw how that kid reacted.”
“It's kinda unnerving to be yourself, but not be yourself.” She turned to me, brows furrowed. “Am I making sense?”
I nodded. “And I don't even wear any makeup. This whole false face thing is so confusing. I wish Grandma would hurry up.”
Lexie gave an inelegant snort/laugh and wandered off to the shoe rack.
I nibbled my lip and stared into the jewelry case. There, my eyes locked onto a necklace that Lexie would adore. There wasn't any gift that could make up for everything I had done to her, but it would make her smile and she needed that right now. Even though she usually didn't like anything antique, something about the silver rose in that case just screamed her name.
The metal was artfully tarnished in all the right places to accent the three-dimensionality of the grape sized flower that looked like it was carved from a single piece of silver. A flat, braided cord of leather held it suspended around a plastic neck. It would sit right over the wound that circled Lexie's neck. I had to get it for her.
The price tag hit me like a punch in the stomach, but then I remembered the manager had offered me a fifty percent discount on anything. It wasn't enough to bring the price down to the little bit of money I kept cached in my back-up purse, but I had to try.
I waved the lady over, who quickly obliged.
“Yes, ma'am? Can I help you?”
“I was wondering about this necklace.” I gestured to it and she quickly pulled it from the case. “Could I buy it for seventy dollars? It's all I have.”
She seemed hesitant, like she was deciding how to tell me no without offending me.
Wheedling just a little, I resorted to begging. “Please, it's all I've got and it's so perfect.” I wasn't proud to be fleecing another small-business owner, but I wasn't above much at this point.
She was still reluctant.
“I will leave you a five-star review online,” I promised, writing the sincerity onto my face and hoping it somehow translated through the glamour.
The manager let out a defeated sigh and I rejoiced inside.
She grabbed the necklace more forcefully than was necessary and led me to the register where I traded all the money I had for it.
I thanked the woman profusely and put the necklace in my pocket. I'd give it to Lexie after dinner.
Grandma finally came out of the back with a large box in her hands. “Let's go, ladies.”
I took one end of the box for her since she seemed to be struggling. Lexie snagged the car keys from Grandma's pocket and opened the back hatch for us. Who knew an eyeball could be as heavy as a big bag of dog food?
“How much was that?” Lexie asked, half-jokingly as we climbed in.
Grandma buckled up in the driver's seat and scoffed. “You don't want to know.”
More serious now, Lexie continued, “If it's your belief that spells magic, why buy expensive ingredients? If you believe throwing gravel in a pot of water will make a potion, why pay for eye of newt?”
“Because it's what works.” Grandma answered as though her question were ridiculous. “And it's a supply and demand thing: people don't cast powerful spells very often, so the ingredients for them tend to be more rare and therefore valuable.”
“Oh. That makes sense.” Lexie nodded and climbed in on the other side of the car.
I was about to open my door, but stopped to look for the old man on the bench. Nobody was there. I guess Lexie was correct, then, and I was just crazy. If there'd been someone following me, he'd have stuck around to watch me leave.
Right?
4
Shortly after that, we pulled into a little gravel lot in an empty field that was surrounded by trees on two sides and overlooking the sea straight ahead of us. There weren't any other souls to be seen.
“Okay, ladies, it's time to get started.” Grandma announced with all the enthusiasm of a summer camp counselor as we unbuckled and slid out— or at least I slid out. They were tall enough that they were actually able to set their feet on the ground.
Grandma motioned for us to follow her around. She opened up the back hatch, revealing a few duffel bags. She slung a backpack over her shoulder. “Take the other bags into the middle of the field. I'm going to go set up the barrier.”
She pulled a shiny black cube from the bag and set it down about twenty five yards away. She then came back to the car, continued in the opposite direction for the same length and set another cube down. The other two cubes went at the edge of the cliffs around fifty yards away. When she was done, there was a fifty square yard field within the cubes for us to practice in.
“What are you waiting for? Come on,” she called out from the cliffs' edge.
Reminded of our jobs, we snatched up the bags and hurried over. Of course, the one I picked had to weigh as much as a sack of rocks. Once I'd pulled it far enough forward that it no longer had the floor of the car to rest on, it made discordant, metallic clinking sounds like it was filled with heavy silverware or something. I was glad to reach the spot where I could put it back down. I wanted to just drop it, but I set it down gently instead because who knew what was in here and whether it was explosive or not? I'd been having a run of severely bad luck and I didn't want to tempt fate to bite me on the butt any more than it already had.
“What do we do now?” Lexie asked, putting her bag down into the grass with ease. It made a thick, familiar thud that told me there were books in that one.
Grandma turned to her and set her hand on Lexie's arm. “I'm sorry, dear, there isn't much that I can teach you since you aren't a mage. But what you can do—” She dropped to her knees and opened up the bag that Lexie had carried. Yep, that one was full of old, leather-bound books.
She pulled one out from near the bottom. “—is go into the forest and pick some of these herbs.” She opened the book, flipping through its crinkly pages until she found the one she was looking for.
Lexie and I both came around to her sides and looked at the worn, ivory pages. All of the text was in Latin, so neither of us understood it, but there were detailed illustrations. She pointed to three plants on the page and gave the book to Lexie, who had zero exposure to nature beyond groomed gardens and parks.
“Um…” she murmured, a worried expression on her face. She looked at the ungroomed forest and back to Grandma. “I am probably not the best person for this job.”
Grandm
a gave her a saccharine smile. “Well that's too bad, dearie. You're the only one for this job. Now get moving.”
Looking a little queasy, Lexie trod off into the forest's edge and awkwardly wiggled her way through the dense underbrush, vanishing within it in seconds.
“What am I supposed to do?”
Grandma paused and leaned back to sit cross-legged on the ground. “For you, the first thing we need to do is to figure out what kind of speller and caster you are.” She leaned over the bag with the books and pulled one that was thicker than my thigh into her lap.
I gave her a blank look and sat down on the grass in front of her.
She crossed her arms and leaned forward on the book. “How much do you know already?”
I thought back to the things I'd done in the pit and what Liam had taught me about magic before answering. “I know that magic is a universal form of energy, that mages can actively convert from its raw form into a spelled, or genus form. And that to do the spelling, a mage has to do something they believe will do what they want. I know some mages spell by moving around, some use focusing tools, some say special words or chant, and some mix potions. Then, once the magic is spelled, it has to be cast by using one of the same four techniques, but that an individual's way of spelling and of casting can be different.”
Grandma nodded her head. “And what do you know about genera magics?”
“That it's magic that's already been either intentionally spelled or naturally spelled and stored by a mage's body. That using it is much faster than using raw magic, but that the strength of everyone's genus magic varies and that it's like a battery, you only have but so much of it before you run out and need time to recharge.”
“Good,” she approved. “Now what can you tell me about your genera magics and how you've used them in the past?”
I stopped to think. “Um, I know that I have seven genera magics thanks to the bracelet: water, fire, air, healing, telepathy, and mimicry, as well as my own necromancy. I've used fire twice, one time blasting at the top of the dome of the pit and one time burning a wendigo that was eating my leg.” At the mere mentioning of that memory, ghosts of the fiery agony of its dinosaur-sized fangs scraping against my bone erupted over my thigh. I took a deep breath, rubbing my leg.
Duo (Stone Mage Saga Book 2) Page 4