by Eva Chase
My magic was still there? I reached toward it the way I would have if I’d been going to cast, but all I touched was the same emptiness as before.
But if she was telling the truth, I wasn’t empty. I was only numb. We could do this, as long as I didn’t give the game away too soon.
I nodded again, my pulse thudding faster. That response must have satisfied my familiar. One more thing you should watch out for, she added. I saw them casting on you while you were knocked out. From what I’ve been able to overhear, I believe they placed some sort of tracking spell on one of the buttons on your shirt. You’ll want to get rid of those as soon as you can once you’re out of here.
I glanced down at my shirt. It had just two small metal buttons, more decorative than functional, just below the center of the collar. And one of those could have led the joymancers right to our hotel. My stomach listed queasily.
“Thank you,” I said.
Deborah nuzzled my arm. You’re a good one, Lorelei. Don’t let the joymancers or the other fearmancers change that. Then she leapt down to the floor again and raced away.
I sat up straighter in the chair, my thoughts whirling as I worked through my hopeful escape. Deborah would come with the keys. Where were the keyholes on the cuffs? Turning my wrists, I made out the shape of the spots on the undersides and confirmed I could reach one side with the opposite hand if I stretched. It’d be tough to get a good fit, but I should be able to manage it. It wasn’t as if Deborah could handle that part for me.
Once they were off, according to her, I should be able to feel my magic again. I could already picture how I’d smash through the barrier in front of me. There might be others—in the doorway to the room outside, or in the hall… I’d need to send a stream of magic ahead of me to detect any obstacles.
A straight run down the hallway to the door was simple enough. I’d probably be running past at least one room where the joymancers were working, though. No matter how quietly I did my casting, they might catch on and come rushing to stop me before I’d even made it to the hall.
It didn’t sound as if the additional people they’d been waiting for had arrived yet, though. With my magic, I should be able to push past them. I could… shove them into one of the other rooms and put a magical lock on them. It wouldn’t have to be all that complex to hold them for the short time it’d take me to make it to the door.
Once I was outside, I’d just keep running. I couldn’t forget to grab my phone from the shrubs at the front of the yard—it’d be ten times as hard getting away without that. I could snap both the buttons off my shirt just to be safe and call an Uber to someplace several blocks away, dash over to meet it, and be on my way back to Sacramento before the joymancers had a chance to figure out which way I’d gone.
There were a lot of uncertainties in that plan still, but it was the best I was likely to get. I rehearsed the sequence in my mind over and over: unlock the cuffs, break the barrier, shove aside the joymancers, dash out the door, grab the phone, snap off the buttons, and run like hell. After a few iterations, it started to feel as solid as if I’d already done it.
I shifted forward on the chair so I could tilt at a better angle for reaching the cuffs. My mouth had gone dry. I swallowed thickly, waiting and waiting with the pounding of my heart—
—and Deborah bolted through the doorway with a tiny keyring clamped in her jaws.
I had no time to think, no time to do anything except launch straight into the chain of actions I’d been picturing. She scrambled up to my knee, I snatched the key from her, and my wrists strained against the metal binding.
In the first second, the tiny object almost slipped from my fingers. I pinched it tighter and maneuvered it into the first hole.
As soon as that cuff had snapped off, a trembling sensation rose up behind my sternum. My spirits leapt, but I couldn’t afford to rejoice just yet. I rammed the key into the opposite cuff and snapped that off my arm too.
The sense of my magic flooded me, as potent and heady as it’d always been—maybe even more so now that I’d had to go hours without feeling it at all. Deborah clambered up to my shoulder as I sprang to my feet. I set the cuffs gently on the seat so they didn’t make a sound to bring the joymancers running already and turned my focus to the barrier in front of me.
The words I’d chosen rolled off my tongue with a harsh breath I hoped would disguise them. I trained my attention on the center of the doorway and sent a blade of magic ramming straight into it like an axe.
The conjured wall resounded with an echo of the impact that quivered over my skin, but the barrier held steady. I clenched my hands and spat out the spell again more forcefully, over and over in swift repetitions.
On the fifth, the barrier shattered. I flung myself through the doorway and the room beyond, intent on the hall. With one more murmured casting, I sent a thread of magic winding ahead of me.
They’d sealed the doorway to the hall too. I bit back a curse. As I opened my mouth to attack it, a distant yell reached my ears.
They’d already noticed something was wrong. Shit.
I battered the new barrier with the same casting, not quite as cautious this time. Speed mattered more than secrecy now. With a jerk of my hand, the third impact split that wall of magic down the middle. I wrenched the tremoring energy aside and bolted through it.
Three figures were already charging down the hall toward me—the man and woman who’d questioned me, and the guy who’d originally let me in. I barreled on toward them, Deborah’s claws pinching my skin through my shirt as she clung to me.
Before my jailors could cast anything at me, I’d already spoken the spells I’d planned. A wave of energy smacked them to the side and clamped their mouths shut at the same time. I sent them tumbling through an open doorway in a heap.
“Shut,” I called out as I hurtled past, and the door banged closed with magical force.
Maybe someday they’d remember that I hadn’t killed them to make this escape, hadn’t even hurt them, even though the lethal approach might have given me more certainty of success.
The entrance lay straight ahead of me. I sprinted for it with a burst of exhilaration fueled by my apparent victory. There were magical locks on the door, but I could break those too. And then I’d be home free.
I’d just tossed a disabling spell at the locks when someone sprang from another doorway and sent a spell crashing into me.
I’d assumed all the joymancers around had already been rushing to contain my escape. A potentially fatal miscalculation. I slammed into the wall with a jolt of pain through my shoulder.
The man who’d battered me whipped up his hands as his lips moved to cast another spell. The breath had been knocked from my lungs. I sucked in air, fumbling for some sort of defense and knowing I didn’t have time to pull it off.
My lips were just parting when a small white shape launched itself from my shoulder.
Deborah threw herself into the blaze of the joymancer’s spell just as it shot from his hands. “No!” I choked out.
The bolt of fire hit her body and consumed it in an instant. A tearing sensation radiated through my body from throat to belly. A tiny fall of ash pattered to the floor.
Panic, anger, and agony collided in my mind. I managed to sputter a casting word in a ragged voice. The energy I whipped out knocked my attacker off his feet and pinned him to the floor. I hesitated for a few precious seconds, searching the ground as if my familiar could somehow emerge, as if the wrenching of our broken bond could be a lie.
“Deborah?” I croaked.
There was nothing. And with each moment I delayed, I might make her sacrifice meaningless.
With my eyes swimming with tears, I staggered around and lunged the last few steps to the door.
The cooling air in the darkness outside prickled across the wetness streaking down my cheeks. Every step sent fresh shockwaves of pain through my chest. I swayed on the sidewalk and managed to grab my phone on autopilot. Swallowing so
bs, I fled into the night.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Rory
As the car slowed outside the hotel, I came out of my daze of pain and grief with a brief jolt of panic. I hadn’t thought through making my return.
“Keep going, to the end of the block,” I said quickly.
The driver obliged without any visible reaction. I clambered out into the glow of the streetlamps that turned the night sky above hazy.
An alley around the corner gave me enough shelter to cast the reflective illusion. My magic stirred sluggishly across the ache that ran through my chest. I had to mutter the words more forcefully before the effect stuck in place.
My legs trembled. I leaned back against the rough brick wall and touched the indents on my shirt where I’d remembered to tear off the buttons just in time, a few blocks from meeting my driver. I’d checked myself over as well as I could in my muddled state afterward and hadn’t caught any hint of joymancer magic on me. I should be safe from them, at least.
After several seconds, I pushed myself onward toward the hotel.
It was a good thing I’d taken precautions. One of the blacksuits was standing in the shadows near the hotel entrance. I stopped in my tracks when I saw her and stayed in place until another patron came up to the doors. I managed to slip in behind him and passed another blacksuit on the way to the elevators. Thankfully, the man I was following was heading there too. I just waited until he’d gotten off before I pushed the button for my floor.
A fresh wave of physical loss hit me as I stepped out of the elevator. A wrenching sensation tore up from my gut to my ribs. I stumbled and nearly fell on the floor, which would have been just great for keeping a low profile. The thump probably would have brought half the blacksuits out of their rooms in an instant.
I managed to catch my balance, but as I crouched there, catching my breath, the thought of going back to my room and trying to sleep through this horror made my stomach twist even tighter. I was still going to be a total mess in the morning—maybe even worse than I was now. I had to get it together. And I wasn’t sure I could do that on my own.
I straightened up and took a few wobbly steps down the hall. The door to room 1506 was right across from mine. I hesitated there, wavering in indecision, but really, what other reasonable option did I have?
Malcolm had said he’d come so someone here would have my back. I might as well give him the chance to show whether he could really make good on that promise, right?
I didn’t knock, just murmured, “Open,” to the lock. The tiny light over the keycard slot flashed green with a faint click of the deadbolt. I eased the door forward and slipped into the dark room. With a wave of my hand and a quick word, I dispelled the reflective illusion.
It was very dark—it was well past midnight now, and Malcolm had pulled the blackout curtain fully closed. I stood there in the room’s foyer for a moment, letting my eyes adjust to the faint glow of the clock on the bedside table. I couldn’t make out more than the vague shape of Malcolm lying between the covers, but the rhythmic rasp of his breath told me he was asleep.
Until I moved toward him, anyway. Maybe it was a shift in the air or the whisper of my feet against the floor, but I’d only made it halfway across the room before his form twitched and his breath stuttered. His hand swiped over his face. “Rory?”
Abruptly, I felt both insanely out of place and desperate for guidance. My throat choked up, making my words stumble. “I—I’m sorry. I needed… to talk to someone, and I thought—”
He was already sitting up, reaching for the bedside lamp at the same time. A flick of the switch flooded us both with stark light. He took one look at my face, and concern with an edge of protective fury flashed across his. “What the hell happened? Has someone been hassling you?”
He started to get out of the bed, the sheet falling away from his bare chest, which I’d have appreciated more if I’d had any capacity for desire at the moment. My knees wobbled under me. I sank down onto the far end of his bed, and Malcolm halted, sitting up at the edge just a couple feet from me. He extended his arm tentatively to take my hand.
Something about the gentle contact cracked the composure I’d been holding onto so tightly since I’d fled the Conclave headquarters. The tears I’d managed to suppress by the time the Uber had shown up burst out in a torrent, along with a sob I couldn’t quite swallow. I gulped for air and tried to get control of myself again, but the anguish that filled my chest wouldn’t relent.
“Hey,” Malcolm said, sounding startled. He shifted closer and tugged me to him at the same time. “Hey. Whatever the hell it is, we’ll make it right. Do you need me to get Ravenguard?”
I shook my head emphatically as I tipped it to his shoulder. His arms squeezed around me. “No,” I managed to force out. “No. If she found out, she’d kill me.”
“Found out what? Talk to me, Rory. You can’t pretend it’s no big deal.”
I wiped at my eyes, doing my best to avoid leaking tears all over him. I hadn’t really thought through how much of the story I’d have to tell him for the important parts to make sense. But it was a little late to backtrack. “You’ll probably want to kill me too,” I mumbled.
Despite everything, his voice turned dry. “Even when I thought you were a shit-stirring traitor who was out to deliberately undermine me and the other scions, I never wanted to kill you. I think you’re safe.”
A ragged laugh sputtered out of me. I took a few more breaths, slower and steadier, until the choking feeling eased back. Malcolm kept his arms around me, his head tipped by mine so his chin rested against my temple with a comforting firmness.
“The whole reason I insisted on coming with the blacksuits to California is I’m afraid of what they’re going to do to get my mother back,” I said. “They’re so… furious, knowing the joymancers have kept her captive all this time, knowing they failed to realize… Of course there’s going to be a fight; of course it’d be pretty much impossible to get her back without anyone dying, but I’d just like it to be fewer people rather than more.”
Malcolm sighed. “No surprises there. That’s about the most Rory sentiment I’ve ever heard. So, what does that have to do with this?”
“Well, I— We did the locating ceremony yesterday afternoon, and as soon as the blacksuits had the location narrowed down, they went into assault mode. Lillian has these conducting weapons that can basically mow down all kinds of people with the same spell. It was obvious they don’t care who gets hurt along the way, even bystanders. I couldn’t stand the thought of just sitting around while they planned some kind of slaughter. So I…” I swallowed hard. “I snuck out and went to the joymancer’s headquarters.”
“What?” Malcolm’s head jerked up, his body stiffening against mine.
“I thought I might be able to arrange some kind of negotiation,” I blurted out. “That they might listen to me because I grew up more like a joymancer than a fearmancer. I just—I had to try. But they wouldn’t listen at all. They refused to even consider believing that I honestly wanted to help. They treated me like a prisoner. I had to get out and get back here. But to do that…”
My throat closed up again. That was the worst part. I’d gone out there hoping to save lives. Instead I’d cost Deborah hers. If I’d just stayed here, if I’d stayed out of it, she never would have had to protect me like that.
Malcolm was still tense, but he’d relaxed a little with my explanation. “To do that?” he prompted quietly.
“I brought my familiar with me,” I said. “When I was escaping, one of the joymancers came at me at a moment where I wasn’t totally prepared. I couldn’t defend myself in time. She jumped right into the spell he was aiming at me so it’d hit her instead of me. It killed her.”
The tears spilled over again. Malcolm inhaled sharply and hugged me tighter. “Fuck,” he muttered. “No wonder you’re messed up. Those bastards.”
“It’s my fault.” My voice came out watery. “I brought her there.
I came up with the plan in the first place.” I couldn’t even tell him the worst of it—that I’d lost more than just a bonded pet, that my mouse had held the spirit of a human being as well. I pressed my hand to the center of my chest. “It hurts. The broken bond.”
“Of course it does. God. I haven’t had to experience that yet myself, but I know—it’s always hard, and it’s hardest if you lose your familiar in some violent way instead of a peaceful passing on.”
Malcolm stroked his hand over my hair, and I found myself tucking my face closer to the crook of his neck. The lingering sharp aquatic scent of his usual cologne filled my nose.
“It isn’t your fault,” he went on in a firm tone. “You still had some faith in those assholes. You gave them the benefit of the doubt, because that’s who you are. And I know—I know your parents, at least, weren’t awful people. If you could have negotiated something, it’d have been better for our side too. It’s not likely we’d get through a full assault without losing any of our own in the process. But the joymancers screwed you over. You can’t blame anyone but them.”
I wished the situation were as simple as he made it sound. “I don’t know how well I’ll be able to hold it together tomorrow around the blacksuits… Is there anything I can do that’ll make coping easier?”
“I don’t know. From what I’ve heard, you basically have to wait the pain out. Like any other wound, it’ll start to heal on its own. But it should get better with time. If you’re still feeling awful tomorrow, you can always make up some excuse like that you’re nervous about what the joymancers will have done to your mother.”
“Yeah.” I was going to have to explain the plan I’d set in motion to Lillian somehow or other too. Dread crept in beneath the pain, but I gritted my teeth against it. I could worry about that when the time came.