Veiled Enchantments

by Deborah Blake

  Magnus leaned over and gave her a big smack on the lips, making Jerrik and Iona giggle and his sister scowl. “Rough enough. But I survived it. Put another couple slices of that roast on there while you’re at it, will you?” He smiled down the table at his mother. “Nobody makes roast beef like my mom.”

  Astrid smiled warmly and sent the gravy boat and a bowl of peas in his direction. As far as Donata could tell, no one else seemed to be alarmed at Magnus’s condition, so she tried not to be either, with limited success.

  “I’m sorry I haven’t been around more,” he said. “I hope everyone has been treating you well.” He narrowed his eyes at Kari, who ignored him, absorbed instead in the antics of her children, who seemed more interested in decorating each other with the food than in eating it. “Have you made any progress looking into the haunting?”

  Donata glowered at her plate, pushing the tasty food around with her fork. “Not since my conversation with Freddy earlier in the week. I haven’t been able to get any of your fellow Ulf trainees to sit still long enough to discuss their experiences, and no one else in town wants to talk to me. Apparently everyone thinks I am a Council spy.”

  “Not everyone,” Magnus said, squeezing her hand. “I’m sorry folks have been so uncooperative. I’ve got the weekend off, so maybe I can persuade a few people to get their heads out of their butts. The Ulfhednar tend to make up their minds about things and then stick to their positions as if they’d been set in stone, but I’d hoped that the fact that I’d brought you here would have made a difference.”

  Astrid gazed thoughtfully at their joined hands where they rested on top of the table.

  “I have an idea that might help,” she said. “Although you may think it is a bit out there.”

  Donata looked at her gratefully. “I’m open to any suggestions that would get the townspeople to trust me more. Otherwise I might as well just head back to the city now, for all the use I’m going to be.”

  “You and Magnus should get engaged,” Astrid said with a perfectly straight face. “Could you pass the bread, please?”

  Magnus handed the bread plate down the table. “Say what now?”

  “Maybe I should have specified ‘any suggestions that aren’t crazy,’” Donata added.

  A benign smile curved Astrid’s lips. “Thank you,” she said. “For the bread, I mean, not for calling me crazy. Besides, it makes sense.”

  “How, exactly?” Magnus asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “The problem is that everyone thinks that the only reason a Witch would come to our little town is to spy on us for the Council, right?” Astrid said, spreading butter with an abandon that made Donata envy the woman’s Ulfhednar metabolism. “So we give them another reason. If they all think you two are engaged, then it makes sense that Magnus would bring you home to get to know his family. Plus there is the bonus that if they realize Magnus trusts you enough to marry you, they’ll trust you more because of that too.”

  “Huh,” Magnus said, brow creased as he shoveled in a huge mouthful of potatoes.

  Donata looked from him to his mother. “You’re seriously considering this?”

  He chewed and swallowed. “It’s an interesting plan.”

  “It’s out of the question!” Halvor bellowed from the other end of the table, smacking his fist down hard enough to rattle the glasses. Donata grabbed hers before it could fall over, then drank down about a third of its contents. If they were going to have this discussion, she was definitely going to need more wine.

  Magnus’s face took on a mulish cast that Donata recognized from the days when they’d been dating. The fastest way to get him to do anything had always been to tell him he couldn’t. Donata thought his father probably should have learned that by now.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Magnus said. “I’m starting to warm up to the idea.” He gave Donata’s hand a squeeze. Thankfully, not the one holding the wineglass.

  “Ulfhednar don’t marry Witches,” Kari said.

  “Why not, Mama?” her daughter asked. “Is there a rule?”

  “No, there isn’t,” Astrid said. Her countenance was remarkably serene for someone who had practically lobbed a live hornet’s nest into the middle of the dinner table. “Some of the races aren’t allowed to mate, like the Dragons and the Fae. That one often doesn’t end well, alas. But there is no rule against Ulfhednar and Witches marrying. It simply isn’t done.”

  “Exactly,” Halvor said sternly. “It isn’t done. Ulfhednar marry Ulfhednar. That is all there is to it.”

  “But Torben down the road married a Human, didn’t he?” Erik said, mischief sparkling in his bright blue eyes. “We all went to the wedding.”

  “That’s different,” Kari said. “For one thing, a Human isn’t the same as a Witch, although really, no one approved of that marriage either. For another, Torben is in his sixties and his wife was just as old. They weren’t going to have children. That changes things.”

  Donata cleared her throat. “I don’t think your mother was actually suggesting we go through with it,” she said.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Astrid said with a barely suppressed grin. “I quite like you. He could do worse.”

  Donata choked on a mouthful of wine, and Magnus smacked her on the back.

  “Absolutely not,” Halvor said in a firm tone. “We’d be the laughingstock of the town. I forbid it.”

  Astrid shook her head, hiding her smile behind her raised napkin.

  “I hardly think that people will be laughing at us, Father,” Magnus said. “And you’ve been saying ever since I got home that it was time for me to find a nice girl and settle down. Donata’s a nice girl.”

  “I am not!” Donata protested. “I’m a cop!”

  “Good point,” Magnus said. “Luckily for you, nice girls have never appealed to me. Besides, being with a cop always makes me feel safer. That settles it. We’re engaged.” He put one muscular arm around her waist, practically dragging her into his lap, and kissed her soundly before easing her back down into her own chair.

  Donata had a feeling she should have been protesting, but she seemed to have temporarily lost the power of speech. Damn that man and his kisses.

  “Congratulations,” Astrid said. “Now, who wants dessert? I made pie.”

  Chapter Eight

  Donata was about to turn out her light when Magnus slipped into the room, clad again in a pair of sleep shorts and nothing else. She was going to have to get him to wear more clothes. Maybe.

  “What, you’re not even bothering to knock now?” she said lightly. Even in the dim glow of the bedside lamp, she could make out new bruises and cuts that had been added since she’d seen him last. When she’d first started serious martial arts training, she’d gotten plenty banged up, but nothing like this. She wanted to kiss each sore spot and make it better. Not a good idea, Donata. She kept her gaze on his face instead.

  “I figured I shouldn’t have to knock anymore, what with the engagement and all,” he said with a weary grin. “Besides, I come bearing gifts.”

  Donata sighed. She was too tired to summon up the energy it took to play these games—or resist his not inconsiderable charms. “I was just going to go to sleep. Can it wait until morning?”

  “You always were bad at accepting presents, ’Nata,” Magnus said. He held out a small satin pouch. “This is actually from my mother, so you have to be nice about it.”

  “I’m always nice to your mother,” Donata protested. “Even though the woman is apparently a lot less sane than she first appeared to be.”

  Magnus chuckled. “I know. She always seems like the one normal person in the family. Then you get to know her better, and you realize that she’s cunning, devious, and twisted.” It was clear from the way he said it that he thought those were all positive attributes. “Never underestimate Astrid Torvald’s ability to make things work out the way s
he thinks they should.”

  “That might be so, but you do realize that this fake engagement is just a means to an end. It’s not real. Although it wasn’t a terrible idea,” Donata admitted a little grudgingly. “If it works, that is. I don’t know that we can convince anyone that we’re really getting married.”

  Magnus dangled the little bag. “Oh, I don’t know. This might help.”

  Donata took it with some trepidation and tipped the contents out into one hand. The ring glittered in her palm, a sturdy but beautiful square-cut diamond set atop a simple gold band with Norse runes etched around its circumference. Her pulse stuttered for a moment. If she had been asked to picture her idea of the perfect engagement ring, this might have been it. If she had been able to picture anything at all.

  “I can’t take this,” she said, holding it out as if it were an rattlesnake that might bite her at any moment. “It’s too valuable. What if I lost it? We’ll just tell people we didn’t bother with a ring, or find something cheaper. Maybe something nice out of a gumball machine.”

  “There are no gumball machines in this town, ’Nata. There’s a general store that sells candy by the pound, weighed on an old-fashioned scale and put into paper bags. In case you haven’t noticed, the Ulfhednar have barely moved into the last century let alone this one.”

  She’d actually figured that out once she realized that there was no cell signal anywhere in the area, no television, and no computers. Astrid had told her that if she wanted to make a call or check her e-mails, Donata would have to drive over to the next town. Yeesh.

  “Besides, if we want to solve this mystery, we have to do something to persuade people it is safe to talk to you. My mother’s idea may be a little unusual, but it could actually work. But only if we act the part. This ring should help—it was my mother’s, although she couldn’t wear it anymore after she had us kids and gained a few pounds. If you are seen wearing my mother’s ring, everyone will have to believe the engagement is real.”

  He picked up her left hand and slid the shining stone onto her finger, kissing her hand briefly before giving it back. “See, it’s a perfect fit. I think we should take that as a sign, don’t you?”

  Sure. A sign that we are all crazy. Donata didn’t know how to explain the funny feeling in the pit of her stomach or the sudden rapid beating of her heart. It was just too much. She wasn’t in a good place to play at a pretend relationship. Not after the last two. For a moment, it was all she could do not to jump up, throw her things into a suitcase, and run for the door.

  “You know it’s not real, though, right?” she said. “It’s just until I can solve your ghost problem.”

  “Sure, I know that,” Magnus said. His smile seemed almost wistful, but she put that down to the dim light and his exhaustion. “Just a means to an end.”

  “Okay, I guess,” she said, trying not to stare at the rock on her finger. Her hand felt odd.

  Magnus grinned at her. “You know, most of the women I give engagement rings to are much more enthusiastic than this.”

  “Uh-huh,” Donata said. “Was that before or after they met the rest of your family?”

  He roared with laughter and she tried to shush him, but his humor was as infectious as always and she couldn’t help but join him. More quietly, of course. What the hell. The whole situation was absurd. She needed to stop taking it so seriously and just go along for the ride. What was the harm in a little pretending, as long as they were both clear that was all it was?

  “I have a great idea,” he said, a dangerous gleam in his eyes that she remembered from earlier days.

  “You do?”

  Magnus swept her into his arms and rolled on top of her. “You bet,” he said. “I think we need to practice being convincing as an engaged couple. And I know just the place to start.”

  Doomed. She was doomed.

  Magnus took her out to breakfast the next morning at the town diner, Bearly Edible. Clearly the owner had an odd sense of humor. But the woman seemed nice enough when she came over to their table to say hello. She was tall, gray-haired, and so skinny it made you wonder about the quality of the food, but Donata’s waffles turned out to be light and fluffy, and her bacon was thick, smoky, and delicious. For some reason she was ravenous. Must be all the fresh Maine air. Nothing to do with last night’s exercise. Which she swore wasn’t going to happen again.

  Magnus, of course, ate with his usual enthusiasm, and she thought he looked a little less frazzled today than he had the day before. He perked up even more when a short, stocky man with close-cropped brown hair and startling green eyes walked toward the table.

  “Well, that didn’t take long,” Magnus muttered to Donata. “There is nothing more dependable than the small-town rumor mill for passing information along at the speed of light.”

  “Huh?”

  Magnus stood up and greeted the newcomer with a manly hug and some mutual back thumping. “Morning, Jonah,” he said. “I didn’t expect to see you today. I thought you’d be enjoying a morning home with Mary and the kids.”

  “Oh, I just came by for a cup of coffee,” Jonah said. “Plus, I heard a rumor that your lady friend wanted to talk to me. Is it true you are engaged?”

  Magnus winked at Donata. “Small-town rumor mill,” he said. “Why don’t you join us, Jonah? This is Donata, and yes, you heard right on both accounts. Donata, this is Jonah. He’s one of the men doing the Ulf training with me this year.”

  Jonah pulled a chair out and the elderly proprietress brought his coffee with such alacrity it was clear she’d been watching. And no doubt listening, as were most of the folks at the tables around them, for all that they seemed to be giving their full attention to their food. Rumor mills indeed.

  “I’m a couple of years late going for the Ulf testing,” Jonah explained. “I got married and then my wife had twins, so she asked me to hold off a bit. But here I am. This is going to be our year, eh, Magnus?” He slapped Magnus on the back again. “Congratulations, by the way. I can’t believe someone finally snagged this guy. Seems like half the women in town were after him before he went off to the big city. What did you do? Put a spell on him?”

  Donata choked on her coffee.

  Magnus just grinned. “Nah, it was her charming personality and sweet temperament.”

  She kicked him under the table, scowling. “That and he knows I have a gun and I’m not afraid to use it.”

  “That’s right,” Jonah said. “You really are a cop, aren’t you? Magnus and a cop. A Witch-cop, even. Go figure.” He gazed at Magnus with those green eyes. “Gotta say, buddy, I’m kind of surprised you picked now to bring her to visit, what with the Ulf trials and all. Wouldn’t it have made more sense to wait until after it is all over?”

  Magnus shrugged. “I’ll admit the timing isn’t optimal, but when this ghost thing started happening, I figured Donata was the perfect person to help get to the bottom of it. So we moved up our plans a bit. She understands about my not being around much.”

  “You think you can actually find out why we’re seeing the spirits of our dead?” Jonah said to Donata. “I won’t kid you, most people around here would rather see Magnus with an Ulfhednar woman—no offense—but if you can stop my father from haunting me, I’ll be first in line to buy you a wedding gift. The man wasn’t much fun when he was alive, but dead he is even worse. Especially now.”

  “Can you tell me about the manifestations?” Donata asked. “And maybe describe where they happened?”

  “I’ll do better than that,” he said. “I can take you there as soon as you’re finished with breakfast.”

  “It’s not up a mountain, is it?” said Donata.

  Jonah laughed. “Not even close. The three times I saw my dad all took place in the building we use to train in. It’s about two blocks from here.”

  Walking those two blocks was an interesting experience. Unlike on he
r previous excursions into town, which had gotten her a lot of short, unhelpful conversations accompanied by a distinct chill, the few people they met along the way seemed to have warmed up by about thirty degrees. No one came over and gave her a big hug or anything, but the stares were slightly less suspicious and the greetings reasonably friendly. Donata had spent a lot of time working in the midst of Human cops who didn’t feel comfortable around her, so she was used to being on the outside of the group, but she had to admit it was a lot more pleasant not to be on the receiving end of all that animosity.

  She still couldn’t believe anyone thought she was a spy for the Council, but she had to grudgingly admit that Astrid’s wacky idea maybe hadn’t been that wacky after all.

  The training building turned out to be a long, rectangular open space with a few windows set high up where they wouldn’t get broken and rough wooden walls from which hung weapons including swords and staffs and a few things she didn’t recognize. The smooth wood floors had mats down in some places and sawdust in others but were mostly bare. In one corner there were a bunch of free weights, and the room had the not-unpleasant odor of wood, sweat, and exertion.

  “We work out in here sometimes,” Jonah said, ushering her inside. “Mostly it is used for sparring, though.”

  “I’d guessed as much,” Donata said with a grin. “Lots of space to throw each other around without breaking anything.”

  “Donata and I used to spar quite often,” Magnus said. “She might not be an Ulfhednar, but she’s kicked my ass a time or two anyway.”

  “Sometimes it pays to be fast and sneaky instead of just a pile of muscles,” she said, laughing. “And you make such a satisfying thump when you go down.”

  Jonah stared from one to the other. “The two of you sparred together?” She’d clearly gone up a notch or two in his estimation. From what Magnus had said, it probably had nothing to do with her being a woman, since Ulfhednar women kicked butt with the best of them, and everything to do with her being a mere Witch. Ha.