Indebted to Faerie (Stolen Magic Book 6)

by WB McKay

  On the second floor from the top, the power dynamics were more varied, though the conversation was not. There were six different gatherings of people, each one more vapid than the next. All they ever engaged in was idle gossip. If I heard another opinion on what someone else was wearing, or the types of servants someone had, I was going to stab myself in the ears. Anything to block out the noise.

  "Oh, well I heard that he made her a costume for this ball!" said a bald man, gripping the arm of the woman next to him. I was about to get to work ruining my hearing, when he added, "If you see a butterfly, you know who it is."

  "Butterfly? The man never grows up, does he?" She let out a tittering laugh. "It sounds like they're up to their same old games. They'll drag us all into their theatrics, won't they?"

  "One can hope! It was so exciting last time!"

  Huh. I'd known that Aengus would likely mistake me for The Morrigan at the ball, but I hadn't considered that everyone else would. That could work to my advantage. No one would bother The Morrigan. There was no telling what she might do.

  I weaved slowly past the rest of the groups, occasionally taking a sip of my champagne as I listened in. I didn't bother looking at them. It was better not having a face to associate with the idiocy.

  "The Morrigan's daughter is in Faerie."

  "That's odd. Banshees typically stay out of our way, don't they?"

  "No, no, no, you misunderstand. This is the daughter. You must have heard of her. The one who isn't a banshee. She's taken over Volarus, you know."

  "That's only a story." They laughed. "Another game of The Morrigan, surely."

  "That's what everyone thought at first, of course, but too many trusted sources have assured me it's true."

  "You believe all of it's true? Even the part about—"

  "Yes!"

  "Oh, my."

  "I know."

  "On top of Aengus and The Morrigan getting at it again?"

  "I know!"

  "Can Faerie handle such excitement?"

  "I'm not sure I can."

  "The Morrigan has a daughter who's as much trouble as she is." They both laughed. "Well, well. If the daughter was of any worth, she'd deal with the mess she left in Oscura. Since the mist cleared, it's been filling with lowlifes. If you're going to conquer a land, you need to be productive with it."

  Their companion made a judgmental mhm of agreement.

  I groaned. Next group.

  "I can't wait to see all the costumes this year. I hope no one decides it's funny to come as a troll again. The sight of that disgusting pile of flesh is permanently burned into my brain."

  Next.

  "...I don't think he can pull it off, but Earth wouldn't be a bad place if it weren't for all those humans thinking they are superior because they can make fire by rubbing sticks together."

  I stopped to try and catch more of that conversation, but they had moved on to talking about the food that would be at the ball. Apparently, the salmon puffs were to die for.

  "Ugh, this is getting me nowhere," I grumbled into my glass. I made one last lap around the room, sniffing discretely for the scent of lavender, or anything else I thought could be useful. Nothing. I didn't bother doing the math on how many floors I had to go. I needed to find my answer. Come on, attending a dozen snooty parties is hardly the worst thing you've ever done for a job.

  "Why couldn't I be fighting more gorgons?" I pouted my way down the stairs to the next party. The room was more crowded than the last. "Lava snakes? I'd take more snakes."

  Why couldn't it just be snakes?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The pre-ball party was still in full swing when I got back upstairs. The other parties had been a bust. I was frustrated and losing heart, but both instinct and reason still insisted there had to be something I was missing.

  I circled the room, my eyes a laser as they scanned the crowd. The siren was gone, hopefully for good, as that was one less distraction. The spider queen and Tightpants still dominated the crowd. When I approached, I could hear Tightpants railing on about the benefits of ruling through fear. Surprisingly, Ms. Scary Legs was arguing in favor of ruling by inspiring adoration.

  "Adoration wouldn't have stopped whatever fool tried to enchant me earlier this evening," he argued. "Proper terror would have taken care of that."

  "Your servant said that enchantment was harmless." She waved three of her legs in dismissal.

  "That is not what he said!" Tightpants snapped his fingers. "Frederick! Come here right now! Frederick, where are you?"

  A yellow, stooped man emerged from directly behind Tightpants. He looked irritated, like he knew what was about to happen.

  "Did you say the enchantment was harmless?" Tightpants looked annoyed with Frederick the servant's answer when all the man had done so far was open his mouth. "Do you believe any enchantment could ever be considered harmless? Why is it I keep you in my employ if that were true?"

  "No," Frederick wheezed. "I did not say it was harmless."

  "Wouldn't you say that any enchantment unwittingly spelled on another should be considered an attack of the highest order?"

  "Yes, I would say that."

  "There you have it," Tightpants told Scary Legs.

  "You would have me take your servant's word for it?"

  "You were the one misquoting him as an authority. I can only do my best to engage in conversation with you; I do not take responsibility for how your mind works." Tightpants threw his arm out and snapped again.

  One of his other servants appeared with a drink, which she promptly handed over to Frederick. Frederick raised the glass to his own lips, and the faint scent of lavender met my nose.

  My heart raced. Great, I thought. Of course the person I need for the job is working for one of the most powerful fae at the ball. It made things more difficult, but—I had to grudgingly admit—also more exciting. Something was definitely wrong with me. Adrenaline junkie. I smiled to myself. Okay, okay. Focus.

  Frederick handed over the drink to Tightpants and was promptly dismissed. He wouldn't be noticed again until Tightpants's drink ran dry.

  I downed the last of my champagne and closed the distance between me and my target. When he realized my gaze was focused on him, his whole body stilled, eyes went wide—a deer caught in the headlights. I gave him my best smile and stopped right in front of him. "Hmm. It seems I've finished my drink." I waved my empty glass in front of him.

  Like a well-trained puppy, he took it, eager now that he thought he understood why I was looking at him. "I'll be right back with another glass of champagne, madame." He scurried off toward what I presumed was the kitchen.

  The debate about the best method of rule raged on. "Torture victims tell all manner of lies," said the spider queen. "I, however, know almost immediately if someone is betraying me. It's hard for most to keep up a convincing facade of adoration for someone they are stabbing in the back. When everyone despises you, how do you ever tell the difference?"

  "Family—"

  I walked away before hearing what I was sure would be a ponderous argument detailing the efficacy of torturing friends and family as a means to get truthful answers. The lackey had been gone long enough that I could follow him without attracting attention. Not that anyone paid attention to the fae in attendance with "lesser" magic. Oh, if they only understood what havoc could be wreaked with one of these "lesser" magics.

  Frederick stood next to a bar overflowing with drinks and appetizers, struggling to pop the cork on a sweating bottle of champagne.

  "Don't worry about the champagne," I said. "I didn't really want more."

  The man spun around so fast, I had to admire his ability to keep a hold on the bottle. His eyes were wild when he said, "I'm sorry madame, I shouldn't have taken so long."

  "I said, don't worry about it. I didn't want the drink." I gave him another smile to show that I wasn't preparing to bite his head off. "I want to talk to you about your magic."

  "My magic?" he a
sked, his smile a twinkle in his eyes more than a movement of his mouth.

  "Yes," I replied. "I would like you to tell me about your ability to remove enchantments from magical objects."

  His smile turned up a couple notches, baring a hint of teeth. "Most think I'm looking for poisons, or merely playing at theatrics."

  I glanced back over my shoulder and leaned in conspiratorially. "Well, let's not worry about what other people think." I really had to hurry this up. Tightpants wouldn't be oblivious to his absence for long. "As a matter of fact, why don't we take this discussion somewhere more private?"

  He looked past me to the party where his master stood, still arguing.

  "You just refilled his drink," I reminded him. "He won't notice you for a while."

  He turned and walked away so fast that I was left struggling to catch up. If he'd have been running to tattle to his master, I'd have been screwed. Thankfully, he was just eager to do as I'd asked. He probably wanted us out of sight of Tightpants.

  I caught up to him outside one of the suites. He opened the door and let me into one of the most opulent lodgings I've ever seen. Every surface was covered in gold, crystal, priceless artwork, or in the case of the floor, marble inset with what looked like diamonds. My jaw dropped so far I could feel the precious gems on my chin. All of that money stuffed into one space should have been garish, but whoever designed the space knew just how far they could push it without going too far. To say my covetous nature flared would be an understatement. By the time the little man had crossed the room, I'd mentally tagged three pieces I could hide under my clothes on the way out the door.

  Why shouldn't you have what you like?

  I swallowed hard. That thought hadn't come from me, but boy did it speak to my soul. The Fleece was hitting me in my vulnerable place. When I spotted the most beautiful crossbow I'd ever seen, my hands shook with the need to touch it. I walked past, still aware it was behind me.

  "Quite a place you have here…" I trailed off so he could provide me with his name. I already knew it, but I wanted him in the habit of supplying me with answers.

  "Frederick," he answered. "My master is a very important man. The suite belongs to him."

  I walked past him and into the gigantic suite. It was at least three times the size of the one they'd given me. "So, Frederick, like I said, I'm interested in your magic. Do you ever make wands imbued with it?" Every magic eater I'd ever met had an ego the size of Texas. I looked over my shoulder at him and said, "Or is that not something you're able to do?"

  He scurried to catch up with me placing one hand on the small of my back and pointing down a hall. "Of course I can make wands. I can't be with my master all the time, but he still needs to be protected. During those times, he uses my wands."

  I resisted the urge to pull away from the possessive gesture, reminding myself that things would go a lot smoother if he gave me everything I wanted of his own free will. "Where are you taking me?"

  "To my quarters. You want to see a demonstration of my magic in action."

  "I do," I said, realizing this guy thought we were on some kind of date. Well, fine. I'd just have to get this done before it got too awkward. "Will you show me the wands?"

  He opened the fourth door on the right and held out an arm for me to precede him into the dimly lit room. Instead of answering my question, he flicked a switch near the door and the lights brightened to nearly blinding. Well, at least he wasn't going for mood lighting. "Sorry about the light. It's necessary for what I want to show you."

  I rubbed my eyes and squinted in his general direction. When they finally adjusted, I realized the overhead light wasn't overly bright. The added brilliance was coming from a shelf stuffed with random baubles. Everything from an axe to a yo-yo sparkled with a glowing aura. The auras ran the full spectrum of the rainbow, some throwing several in shifting patterns.

  "These objects are enchanted," I said, replying to his speculative look.

  He clapped excitedly. "That they are." He pulled the yo-yo off the shelf, eyeing like I would a particularly juicy burger. "I'm in the mood for something a little complex tonight. I think this will be just the tasty morsel to do it for me."

  "So, you're sustained by consuming the enchantments in the items?" I asked, trying to hurry him along. I just needed a wand.

  His answer was long and ponderous, amounting to a very complicated "yes". I used the time to study the room, finding likely hiding places for wands. The room was large and full of drawers, but one particular chest had a trio of very narrow drawers at the top. I was betting they were in there.

  "By all means," I said when I realized his rambling had come to an end and he'd requested permission to devour the enchantment in the yo-yo.

  He held the yo-yo loosely in the cup of his hands and took two deep breaths. Light flared around the toy and Frederick let out a satisfied sigh. He held up the piece of orange plastic and it no longer glimmered with a magical aura. "That was delicious." He tossed the depleted yo-yo into a small black trash can. His posture was much less stooped than it had been a moment before. "The elf that enchanted it was quite skilled."

  "Nice." His crooked smile indicated I'd stroked his ego. "Do you get the same," I waved at his rejuvenated frame. "benefits when someone uses one of your wands?"

  Rather than puffing up with pride, he nodded gravely. "I do. That's why I have to be very careful who I allow to have one. Only my master may use my abilities as he sees fit. If multiple people were to use my wands, the results could be catastrophic."

  I nodded. While I'd already known this through experience on the job, it was always safer to confirm that what I knew applied to the person I was talking to. Still, hearing his train of thought, a new understanding came over me, one I wouldn't have grasped before I'd learned about my resurrection magic. "Magic overload."

  "Exactly!" He nodded like he was relieved. "You're the first person to ever guess that."

  He babbled on for a while after that, talking about how we must be kindred spirits. I nodded in all the right spots and barely hinted that I would experience something similar if I used one of my magics. Most of my attention was focused on getting one of those wands and getting back to my room before the ball started. And I needed to do it without attracting a lot of attention.

  "So, when she dumped me, I went on an enchantment binge. I ate everything I could get my hands on." He chuckled. "I passed out for three days."

  "Did it hurt?"

  "What? No, it doesn't hurt, I just get exhausted. My body is overwhelmed and decides forcing me to nap it out for a while is the best way to solve my problems. It helped some with the breakup problems, too."

  "Lucky you," I mumbled. If only overloading on death magic was as pleasant. Take a little nap, wake up with fewer problems. Sophie. I snapped my own name through my mind like a whip. Does this feel like the time for a pity party? I cleared my throat, but Frederick didn't notice. He was still rambling on about said breakup problems. It might not have been a good time for a pity party, but it was a great time for some good old-fashioned robbery. I slid the uppermost small drawer out. Inside were three black lacquered wands.

  "Wh-What are you doing?" stammered Frederick. "Leave those alone!"

  I scooped two wands up in my left hand, and took a single wand in my right. "This is going to be okay, Frederick."

  I guess he didn't believe me. Frederick dived, his arms outstretched like a child pretending they can fly. A quick sidestep and he missed me, plowing face first into the chest of drawers. The resounding rattle was enough to make me cringe. Honestly, even though they were usually more prepared, it was easier fighting assholes.

  "Seriously, it's going to be okay," I reassured him. In two quick steps I made it to his shelves and tapped three items with a wand in quick succession. There was only the whoosh of magic and smell of lavender when I touched the first two. "Hmm. It seems their power is limited."

  Frederick, who had managed to regain his footing, simply stared vac
antly forward, his mouth hanging open, blood trailing from a cut above his left eyebrow.

  I tossed the spent wand aside and tapped three more of the random objects. This time it was two chalices and a necklace. People loved magical cups and jewelry. They were probably half of my retrieval jobs for MOD. All three of them lost their magical glow.

  A low groan, impossible to tell if it was pleasure or pain, issued from Frederick's slack mouth. His eyes had drifted closed.

  "Shouldn't take much now, I think." I tapped a vase that held a single red rose and it went dim.

  The previously yellow and stooped man was now neither of those things. He looked virile and healthy. He was also definitely asleep on his feet.

  I tapped a book on his shelf and the glow on it reduced by half.

  Frederick toppled in a boneless heap.

  "There we go," I said, tossing aside the second spent wand. "Sleep tight, Frederick."

  With any luck, if he was found, his condition would be dismissed as overindulgence, and he wouldn't wake up until I was long gone.

  I searched the rest of the drawers in his room and didn't find any other wands. The other small drawers only contained silly trinkets. Good thing I hadn't needed the third wand to take him down. I hoped there was enough juice in the one I had left to take out the mask that controlled Derinia's people.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  I made it back to our suite just in time to see Graulfv sauntering down the hall. I opened the door and gestured for him to enter before me.

  We took seats on the couch, both of us grinning like children who couldn't wait to open gifts.

  "You go first," I said. "How did your search go?"

  "Well, I didn't find out anything about a way to destroy the mask."

  "That's fine," I said, careful not to give anything way. "The armor?"