by Antara Mann
“Well, this was a bust,” I lamented.
“Such things do happen. Occasionally. But we shouldn’t lose hope,” he replied and squeezed my hand in his firmly. This sent tiny bolts of electricity into my own magical energy, perking me up. I looked at him, grateful for the reassurance.
“I still cannot comprehend how Garrett and his super-secret ally picked up the mages,” he said. “There is bound to be some pattern in the kidnappings — I know there is.”
“Well, we only need to find it,” I repeated his words back to him and smiled. My turn to encourage him. “Maybe if we could see all the facts… Wait! I have an idea. Let’s go to the Council’s headquarters and carefully read through the missing mages’ files. Maybe we can see a pattern that way.”
“That’s a brilliant idea. I knew I fell in love with you for a reason!”
I punched his arm lightly for being so brazen, and he mussed my hair in return. Then Kagan reached for his raw fae power and the wind swirled around us, caressing my skin and sending titillating shivers down my spine. The air vibrated with yellow-white light, then grew into the usual big swirl and took us through the ether into the void.
We stepped onto the sidewalk just before the Magic Council’s tall glass building. We went inside and strode past the receptionist, who stared at Kagan open-mouthed and pale-faced. Everyone here knew about the Griffith magic dynasty. I smiled and winked at the fairy girl, but she only had eyes for him.
We took the elevator to the tenth floor. There, I headed straight to the archive room, where all the data the investigators had collected was stored. It was a vast repository, stuffed with hundreds of millions of papers, books and reports from all the investigators who had worked at the Council since its establishment in 1760.
The depository resembled a huge library. I went to the section containing my own files and pulled out the folders bearing the names of Kevin Rydell and Aldwyn Saal. I took Kevin’s, and the fae — Aldwyn’s.
For about half an hour we read through the papers. I, as usual, had described everything in great detail.
“At least we can rule out the Hellfire Club,” Kagan said all of a sudden.
“Pardon?” It took me a moment to make sense of the words he’d just uttered. The meeting spot of all dark users we’d focused on last month and where one of Garrett’s minions worked wasn’t involved in the missing mages’ cases. But we already knew that. “Ah, yes, if that’s any consolation. But we still have a largely plausible pattern list, so…”
“Holy magic! That’s it!” Kagan shouted, and I involuntarily jumped.
“What is it?”
“I knew the name was somehow familiar to me.” He turned to me, his eyes bright with excitement. “Aldwyn Saal won last year’s Magica of the Year contest. How could I have forgotten it?”
Chapter 10
“Umm, sorry?” I asked, baffled, as if he’d spoken to me in Mandarin. “What’s this Magica of the Year thing?”
“You must live under a rock. Magica of the Year is an annual contest for magic users such as mages and sorcerers. It is held at the end of each calendar year across the U.S.”
“Hmm, now that you mention it, the name does vaguely ring a bell,” I said, trying hard to remember where I’d heard about it. It must have been back at the Magica Academy. The reason I wasn’t interested in this topic was because Awen had long dispelled my desire to participate in any showcase of magical skill by warning me from an early age to keep my superpowers hidden. Now I finally knew why.
“You never took part in magical contests?” Kagan asked me cautiously. I sensed he’d read my mind. I shook my head.
“And what about you? Has the almighty fae kicked mages’ or sorcerers’ asses?” I couldn’t help but smile at the mental image I’d conjured, of Kagan competing with other supernaturals. It would be like a tiger playing hide and seek with mice or kittens.
He slightly raised his eyebrows. “As a matter of fact, yes.”
Of course, I thought. Not much of a surprise here.
He hurriedly added, “But I competed in the Fairy of the Year contest. Fairies are not allowed to race against Magica beings such as mages, witches and sorcerers. We fairies compete against our own kind — faes, elves, pixies, leprechauns and the like; basically the Seelie and Unseelie Courts.”
“Hmm, interesting.” I thought about it for a minute. “So, what do these contests consist of?”
“Oh, a variety of things. They are complex and have several stages. The jury changes the rules every few years to keep them fresh and challenging to new contestants. Because I participated when I was a child, the rules must have been altered many times since. Anyway, from what I remember, I had to conjure different beasts, heal both supernaturals and humans, manipulate time and space, and a bunch of other stuff I cannot really recall. But I won first place.” He winked at me.
Of course! “Sounds like a hell of a lot of fun. And work. Quite an accomplishment,” I remarked, and just then it dawned on me: Kevin Rydell had also won a lot of contests; he had a lot of certificates in his living room. And the way his sister talked about his abilities and accomplished healing magic… I recalled her words, that his only hobby was the annual magical contest. And she regretted that Kevin wouldn’t be able to participate this year.
I turned to the fae. “When does this Magica of the Year take place?”
“Early December each year. Why?”
The dates coincided. That was it! “Holy cow, I think I found the pattern! Kevin’s sister, Freya, said she regretted her brother would miss the annual contest he’d been participating in each year. I didn’t think it played a major role in the investigation back then, but now that you mentioned it, maybe that’s how Garrett picked the mages — from the participants to the Magica of the Year competition.”
Kagan clapped his hands, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “Yeah, it totally makes sense. Garrett and the inferni are definitely picking the cream of the crop. Come, let’s go and check if the two mages really participated in the Magica of the Year contest last year,” he said, his fairy magic pulsating in the air. It made me feel intoxicated and slightly dizzy.
“Umm, where exactly are we going?” I asked, but it was too late. I saw his mischievous smile. Next, his power prickled on my skin. Tiny golden threads appeared in the air before us, pulsing and vibrating in yellow-white light. The threads looked like teeny tiny stars, so beautiful that I wanted to reach out and touch them. Before I could, though, I felt the all-too-familiar magical tug, and the void took us.
We arrived before a mid-sized brownstone building in Queens. It looked to be in good shape, neither too large nor too small, and it didn’t jar with its surroundings. The Magic Council’s building, in comparison, was much taller and lavisher, which was what one would expect: The Council’s bigwigs wanted to show off to their employees. Both buildings, though, were invisible to the human eye.
“Welcome to the Magica Institute Service Center, the headquarters of the Magica of the Year contest,” Kagan read out loud and headed straight for the entrance door.
Already inside, he strode to the receptionist at the front desk. She was a young, attractive hearth-witch with auburn hair, in her mid-twenties. When she saw him, her mouth dropped open. The Griffith family was well-known in our circles. When she shifted her gaze to me, she frowned and a shadow passed over her face. The look in her eyes said, ‘Too bad this hottie's taken’.
“Hello,” Kagan greeted the hearth-witch, his eyes glowing. "You look beautiful." He was calling his fairy magic. I could tell by the slight tickles I felt on my skin. The sensation was warming, and my head felt incredibly light. The fae was employing his mind-manipulative energy to get us what we needed without wasting more time on red tape.
“M-Mr Griffith,” the witch managed to mumble, completely star-struck.
He gifted her with a dazzling smile, pouring a new wave of his fairy powers on her. “I need a little favor.”
“A-anytime, sir.”
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His smile grew radiant. “Can you open up the list of last year’s participants at the Magica of the Year contest?”
“Of course, sir,” she replied and browsed a few files on her computer. I arched an eyebrow at Kagan.
“Here we are. Umm, are you looking for someone in particular, sir?”
He nodded, his gaze not shifting from her face. “Aldwyn Saal and Kevin Rydell.”
The hearth-witch’s pupils grew larger, her expression bewildered. She looked at the fae, at a loss of words. Her reaction made me uneasy.
“What’s the matter? Are these names familiar to you?” I asked her.
“Yes, ma’am. She swallowed hard. “These are last years’ winners. They won the third and second place in our contest.”
“Oh boy!” I murmured. This confirmed our suspicions.
Kagan was speechless, too. We exchanged quick looks and he turned to the hearth-witch. “May we look into the actual archives?” he said, placing his hand on hers. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes; in different circumstances that would make me so mad and jealous that I would have blown my top. We knew we could get the information anyway; we had the Council’s backing, after all. But filling forms and waiting for a director’s signature would take ages, and time was of the essence here. We could square it all up when the investigation was complete and the mages were safe again.
“Please,” he added.
She smiled at him, her cheeks turning red. “Sure, Mr. Griffith. Please follow me.”
She stood from her chair and proceeded down the corridor. We followed her. We climbed the stairs leading to the building’s second floor, which was also the top one, and walked in silence for a few more minutes, passing several rooms. The penultimate one turned out to be a small library.
“Here you are,” she said, opening the door for us. The library was a dingy, over-stuffed and uninviting room. The girl turned on the light and said, “Take your time. I have to go back to my desk now — lots of work.” She smiled widely at Kagan once more and disappeared down the corridor. We were left alone.
I directed my attention to the room and began rifling through the big piles of records. A few minutes later we realized all the papers around us were records from previous years, or records of previous years’ contests. After an hour, we finally got our hands on the file from last year’s Magica of the Year contest.
The names of the first three mages who’d won popped up, encircled in green. As the receptionist had said, Aldwyn Saal and Kevin Rydell had taken the third and second places respectively.
The files contained articles describing what the particular tasks included. Aldwyn won by merging the past and future into the present; he’d materialized the past and future selves of several spectators.
“Wow, that must have been quite a sight!” I said reading about Aldwyn’s accomplishments.
“Yeah — it is,” the fae agreed. “This contest is more of a showcase intended for the magical corporations and organizations. That’s how they headhunt and hire the best Magica users in the United States. You know, mages, witches, sorcerers…”
“Uh, sorcerers? You mean, like the psycho Garrett we’re after? This lot all work for the Council or Chaos Corporation?” I looked up at Kagan in surprise. Up until he’d mentioned sorcerers, I’d been leafing through Kevin Rydell’s file.
Amusement washed over Kagan’s face, small playful flames flashing in his eyes. “Yes, that’s right; sorcerers too. Surprised?”
My heartbeat quickened and my mind raced through my memories. Did I have a colleague sorcerer at the Council? I didn’t communicate much with them outside of work, so I wouldn’t know.
Before I could answer, he went on, “True, some of them have turned to the dark arts, but this doesn’t automatically make every sorcerer evil. As you know, sorcerers are far stronger than mages. They have inborn magic in them and don’t need to harness the elements or even learn how to use their magic — it comes naturally to them, like breathing. Of course, practice makes perfect, even for sorcerers. That’s why Kai and his minions have courted them for millennia — they want to claim sorcerers as their arsenal.”
“Well, it surely worked for Garrett. He is an abomination,” I spat.
“But I know where you’re coming from; sorcerers have built a bad rep for themselves in the community.”
I directed my attention back to reading the reports of Kevin’s accomplishments at last year’s contest. He had managed to bring back from the dead a mage, healed several hexed shifters and lifted a curse from a vampire. According to the report, the vampire was cursed to sleep for centuries in a row by Baba Yaga herself — an old witch who resided in cold and distant Russia — because he’d refused to sleep with her. I shook my head — some supernaturals, just like people, couldn’t take no for an answer.
“Kevin did even better than Aldwyn. No wonder he got second place,” I said more to myself than the fae.
“And no doubt Samuel Hendricks was the best of all three,” Kagan added. “He won the first place.”
“Let me see.” Kagan handed me the file. The more I read the more the dread in the pit of my stomach intensified. Samuel Hendricks was a blood mage who could change the fate of people, families or even companies. He won by pacifying two century-long feuding family lines of owl shifters and werewolves, and by changing the destiny of quite a few folks present at the contest.
“Oh, shit! That’s not good at all, Kagan. He is in trouble. We ought to warn the Council and the two courts as well.”
The fae took out his phone. “My thoughts exactly.” He dialed a number and shifted from me as far as the room allowed. His resonant voice sounded unusually clear and loud in the small room. He spoke little and to the point. He told the Magic Council to watch Samuel Hendricks closely, since we believed he might be in danger.
“They will take care of it,” he said once the conversation was over.
“I do hope it’s not too late,” I said gravely.
“At least now we know what criteria Garrett and his ally used to pick their victims.”
“Yeah, and I’m feeling it in my guts, they are brewing something very dark, maybe an evil ritual again.”
The fae chuckled. “Whatever you do, don’t ever lose your optimism.”
I ignored his remark. “What bothers me is how they knew where to find the mages.”
“The winners’ addresses are probably written somewhere in here,” Kagan said looking back into the files. He leafed a few pages, his eyes glowing in a greenish color. His magic stirred behind his focused demeanor.
“Nope, there’s no information,” I concluded after he and I thoroughly searched for any data in the records.
“I think we should talk to that cute receptionist again,” he said, looking intently at me. His face broke into a devilish grin.
“Easy there, playboy; I might get jealous,” I warned him.
“And I love it when you do,” he whispered in my ear. His touch and proximity gave me goosebumps. “You look so sexy when you are angry.”
I turned my head toward him, desire burning inside me despite the strange location and the job we’d been tasked to do. I had half a mind already making out with him right here, on the spot. Suddenly the small room came to life, the air becoming charged with heat and sexual tension. The fae grinned at me, and I knew he had yet again read my mind.
“Hey, anyone told you it’s rude to invade one’s thoughts all the time? I need my privacy,” I shouted and slapped his back.
“You like it rough, do you?” he whispered in my ear again, his breath hot on my neck. This sent more heat to the top of my thighs. I couldn’t muster the strength to pull away from him. “Once we are done with the investigation, I promise you we’ll spend a few days in my castle. Alone.” Without a prompt, he kissed me hard on the lips. A wave of desire exploded inside me. His magic tasted better than the most delicious wine, sweeter than dark chocolate cake. His embrace felt so enticing and addictive that I instantly w
anted more. My grip on his waist tightened, but in the last moment he pulled away from me, leaving me breathless.
“First, we work.” He took a step toward the door. The desire lingered inside of me, fire blurring my vision. I had to subdue my heightened senses and force myself to focus on our current task. When I was finally in control, I made for the door to follow him, but the thought of Kagan being Ryan's boss crossed my mind. I’d almost forgotten! I had to ask him about that.
"Kagan, wait!" I nearly shouted because the fae was already outside the room.
"Yes?" He reappeared at once, worry and surprise visible on his face.
"Umm, that Ryan guy told me something that, frankly speaking, shocked me."
"Really? What could he have said to shock you?" He drew nearer to me and softly caressed my face with his finger, his touch burning hot on my skin. His hand lingered for a bit longer than needed.
"He claimed you were his boss."
Kagan blinked, his face inscrutable even that close to mine. "Oh!" was his only reply.
I bit my lower lip, staring him in the eye. "Is it true? You own Chaos Corporation?"
Kagan sighed and said through a chuckle, "Ah, that one. Well, my parents are managing it." He took my hands in his, not taking his eyes off mine. "They put it in my name the day they established the company."
"And why didn't you ever mention it?"
He shrugged. "I thought it was irrelevant. As I said, I'm Chaos Corporation's owner only on paper. My parents are running it." He tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear and said in a low voice, "Now, shall we continue with our investigation?" He took my hand in his and we walked out of the room in silence. Halfway along the corridor toward the stairs he remarked, “They ought to have the contestants’ personal information somewhere in their system. I wonder if this information is well guarded, or if outsiders have easy access to it.”
I pondered before answering. It was important to figure out how Garrett and his inferni ally got their hands on the winning mages’ addresses. “They must have had inside help, someone working for them,” I said.