Magic's Design

by Cat Adams

  He heard Mila whisper an aside to her grandmother, “Guildercent?”

  The answer was also whispered, again telling Tal that Nadia had once lived among his people. “A human with varying percentages of magic parentage. We once lived side by side after all, and passion infects us all equally.”

  He was surprised when Mila looked to him for verification. He dipped his head once, not really sure why it was important to him that she understand more about his people. But it was. “Oh, and run a search for my battle glove down there. I’ll be interested to see if there’s been any sign of it after Alexy and I left Rohm.”

  “Was it taken from you in battle?”

  “I threw it through the gate in this world after cloaking it. If it shows up at all there, we’ll get some idea of where they went when they left here.” He itched the skin near his mark. The continued discussion this way was making it burn. He could see wisps of smoke as the heat singed his arm hairs. If he didn’t stop soon, the skin would blacken and it would be a week or more before he could communicate this way again. But he didn’t dare touch it directly. The spell was delicate enough, especially with Kris doing it under cover of shielding. Any disruption could break the connection. But Great Holy Tree, it was getting harder to concentrate.

  “That wasn’t very … smart, brother. Not only will it tie you closer to the criminals if found by … wrong people, but being without a focus with a mage of Vegre’s abilities on the loose … could kill you.”

  He shrugged, even though she couldn’t see it. “All I could think of on short notice. I’ll find a rock shop in town to get a temporary crystal.”

  Kris snorted, making his skin vibrate. “Hardly a substitute for a battle-proven stone. The only decent flawless stones are ones … humans wear as decoration. You’ll either have to steal one or luck into it without a pile of overworld currency.”

  Mila’s face grew animated and he turned to stare. She cupped a hand to her grandmother’s ear and excitedly whispered something. It was too quiet to make it out, but her grandmother smiled and patted her hand, causing Mila to leave the room rather suddenly. He wasn’t sure he liked that, but he didn’t follow or stop her. It made no sense that he trusted these people, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

  “I’ll manage. But we’re going to have to stop talking soon. A memory potion won’t do much to erase scorch marks on your skin.”

  “True enough. Be very careful, brother. You won’t hear from me again until I sift through … my notes enough to realize I must have talked to you. I’ll try to find out the information and reach you … somehow unless … blows over before that.”

  In Kris’s usual style, as soon as she was done speaking, she ended the conversation. No closing, no notice. His arm simply stopped burning and the red glow diminished. But with the thousand questions that kept swirling around in his mind, it wasn’t until one of the women cleared her throat that he remembered that he was standing motionless, staring at his forearm.

  Apparently, they were waiting for him to do or say something. But there was nothing to say—at least not until he had a long discussion with Alexy.

  Candy stared at him. Giving a delicate cough she nodded in Mila’s direction. She’d apparently returned while he was distracted.

  Until that moment he had honestly forgotten why they’d come back to the kitchen. Too much was happening, too fast. Kris’s news, in particular, had shaken him to the core. Still, there was nothing for it but to soldier on. “My pardon, Mila.” He swallowed, hard. “While I must follow the trail of my glove, I believe it is prudent for my partner to stay here, and guard the gate.” Candy’s eyes, narrowed, so he hastily added, “With your permission, of course.”

  Nadia Penkin started to wrap a vivid red cloak around herself, embroidered with white and yellow runes. “You know my feelings on this, Mila.” She gave a delicate sniff before turning away from the younger woman as she picked up a large carpetbag.

  Mila sighed and shook her head as if she were weary of arguing. “Fine. He can stay. There’s not much in the fridge, but he can help himself to what’s there. Do you have any leads on Sela and Vegre?”

  “I’ve activated the tracking spell. It should be easy enough to follow. The images were quite clear, so they haven’t gone far.”

  “You should’ve seen it.” Candy spoke admiringly. “I could actually watch the whole scene in the flames, and I could hear the voices. It looked like one of the clinics, or maybe a hospital.”

  Nadia turned, giving Tal a look that showed renewed respect. “Well done, Mage. Very well done.”

  Tal met her eyes without squirming. In truth, he’d been surprised himself that he’d been able to capture sound. He’d never been able to before. Then again, this was his battle glove he was tracking. Perhaps that was it. Then again … he shook his head. No. It was his imagination. There was nothing about this place, or these people, that would make his magic stronger.

  The old woman’s expression grew thoughtful, with just a hint of amusement. “Interesting. It might be that Mila has finally come into her power. It happens at different times for all of us. But it also may be that your magic strengthens each other’s. Lifecraft is often drawn to firecraft, like a moth to a flame.” She looked at him from underneath a thick woolen cap. “Tell me, Mage—did you feel overheated during the healing? As though you would burst into flame?”

  He shook his head. The grandmother was a worldly woman, but he didn’t want to admit what he had been feeling at the time. It was even worse when Mila pushed open the door and their eyes met. Once again he could feel her magic push against him, slide through his clothing as though it wasn’t there. “I can say that I felt heated, to be sure.”

  Mila smiled almost shyly. Stepping to within a foot of him she held out her hand. It took some effort to pull his gaze from her heart-shaped face and deep green eyes to look into her open palm. But when he did, he couldn’t resist reaching out his hand to touch the object she held. The domed slab of blue-white stone was set in a frame of pure gold and covered most of her small palm. But what intrigued him were the swirls of colors that swept across the face of the gem—cobalt blue, rich crimson, and orange the color of an autumn sunrise. He could feel the energy of the stone. The activation spell still worked and it called to his magic, began to glow like a rainbow as it filled itself with residual energy. He could smell the colors, like individual petals of a flower. “Where under the world did you find a fire opal that size? It’s absolutely perfect, and looks like it was intended to be set in a focus glove.”

  “I don’t know anything about focus gloves, but you mentioned needing a loose gemstone, and I had this one upstairs in my jewelry box. I don’t remember where I got it, but I’ve had it for years.”

  “It was her mother’s focus, and her grandfather’s before.” Nadia’s voice reflected a pride that Tal couldn’t help but mirror when he heard the next words. “Sylvia has both Parask and Mage blood in her veins. The Bakus line were well respected firecrafters during my time.”

  He felt his brows raise and he couldn’t keep his voice from cracking just a bit from the sudden dryness of his throat. “Was Vladimir Bakus one of your ancestors? The hero of the Ural wars?” He directed the question to Mila, but she just shrugged. It was her grandmother who answered.

  “Sadly, Mila would not know. What little she knew of her Guilder ancestry was probably removed in the spell. But yes—her maternal grandfather, five removed, was indeed Craftmaster Bakus of the mage’s guild. This was his focus stone.”

  Alexy took that moment to walk in the room, and let out a low whistle at the stone, still glowing nearly a handsbreadth tall in Mila’s palm. “Bloody hell, Tal. Where’d that focus come from? It’s as big as the commander’s.”

  “Belongs to the ladies, it seems.” He motioned to Mila. “She comes down from the Bakus mage line. This was the very focus he wore.” Alexy whistled low with raised brows and dipped his head to Mila almost reverently. He might be a dirtdog, bu
t every schoolchild in Agathia had read the old bard tales of the Ural battles between the two mage houses—the Sima, where Bakus crafted, and the Terel, where Vegre’s forefathers wove their evil. It was long before the guilds were established and one of the primary reasons why they were formed. Hearing that would go a long way to convincing Alexy that the women had more to offer than if they were merely soul-conjurers. But Tal still was reluctant to mention it, at least not until his friend had seen something positive about their craft.

  Alexy furrowed his brow. “Um … could I talk to you for a moment first?”

  He nodded and touched Mila’s hand. “It’s a lovely stone. Thank you for showing me.” He’d turned to follow Alexy out to the next room when she grabbed his arm.

  “Wait. You don’t understand. This is for you … to replace the stone you lost. Your sister said you should have one and, well, it’s just been sitting in a drawer in my room. It’s a gift.”

  Both he and Alexy froze, crowded together under the door header, and turned their heads in near unison. If the look of shock on his own face was anything like Alexy’s, they looked like fools indeed. “You can’t be serious. That’s a powerful heirloom stone. I could never—”

  Nadia nodded her head sharply. “Mila asked my permission. We have no more mage crafters in our line. But I understand your reluctance, and would feel the same. If you would prefer, consider using the stone temporarily, until you recover yours.”

  Alexy nudged him in the ribs. “That’s a hell of an offer. This would crack that diamond of his right in half with that iron will of yours behind the blast. Imagine … the opal that took down the whole Terel clan. Vegre would shake in his boots.”

  Mila pressed it forward until it nearly touched his cloak. “Please. I know you’re going to try to get Sela back. If this can help, it would make me feel better for you to have it. It won’t do her any good sitting on my dresser upstairs.”

  Tal wasn’t even sure he could handle a stone this powerful. Although he was old by Agathian standards, he wasn’t as powerful a mage as many others. But imagine the good I can do if I can tame it—

  He nodded and accepted the stone, again feeling the gentle tug as the stone filled its reserves. “A loan then. Not a gift. I promise to return it as soon as Vegre is returned to prison, yes?” Without waiting for a reply, he pushed by Alexy in to the main room. It was too much really, and he was already nervous about being responsible for this important of a stone.

  “Hell of a stone, Tal. Really. You’ll do it proud.”

  Tal took a deep breath. “Before you tell me what you found let’s sit down for a minute. There’s something you need to hear, and you’re not going to like it one bit.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Mila took a deep breath as she walked through the hospital’s main doors. There was something that had always disturbed her about visiting people in a hospital. It wasn’t just the antiseptic smell, or even the faint but lingering scent of bodily functions that bothered her. It was that even the muted colors, sleek architecture, and soft voices couldn’t hide that there was so much sickness, so much pain.

  Things she’d always felt were starting to make sense. She’d felt her bunny’s pain, like she’d felt when her sister was sick. Small flashes of memory had been popping back into her head since what happened with Tal in the kitchen. Flowers that covered her hands with glitter, dipping her painted toes in a pond, and feeling very important to be asked to. Even though part of her didn’t want to believe, she couldn’t escape the images that came to her mind unbidden. She couldn’t pretend the connection she’d shared with Tal hadn’t happened. Worst of all, she couldn’t forget what she’d wanted him to … do to her. Yikes!

  And now, the part of her that was remembering, that needed to heal, was becoming overwhelmed. Her head began to pound from the pressure and her bones ached enough that she needed to sit down before she fell down.

  “You feel it too, yes?” Baba whispered the words softly as Candy went to the registration desk to ask after Suzanne. “The suffering, the silent cries that tear at your soul? They beg for relief. But remember, you cannot help them all or risk replacing them.”

  She nodded, feeling slightly out of breath from the press of the dozens … no, hundreds of patients who unknowingly grabbed at her, tried to snatch some comfort from her healing energy.

  “You’re shaking and quite pale. Are you in distress?” Tal’s voice was warm and concerned.

  He was still with them. The trail of his glove had led right here, to this hospital. The knowledge that a dangerous escaped criminal might be hiding among all these helpless people was a sobering one. Taking a deep breath, Mila stiffened her spine. “I’ll be okay. It’s just a little too much all at once.” She turned to smile at him but caught sight of her reflection in the glass of a vending machine before their eyes met. She really was pale. Her skin was almost translucent and her eyes seemed far too bright to be real. She had to blink before she realized it wasn’t just reflection off the lights … her eyes were glowing a pale, unearthly green. He reached out and touched her arm and her heart caught in her throat. His fingertips felt like a flame-filled hearth on a cold winter day. Even through her down jacket and sweater she could feel the deep soaking warmth. A deep longing filled her and she had to fight not to press herself against him to ease the chill she didn’t even know she had.

  Candy returned quickly. “The pediatrics unit is in the south wing on this floor.” She turned to Baba, “The receptionist said your friend is in room 208.” She pointed in the direction of the elevators. “Apparently it’s the fourth door down the hall to the right when you get off the elevators.”

  Baba gave a curt nod and turned to leave, but stopped at the sight of Candy’s brother hurrying across the lobby toward them.

  “Candy, you’re here! And you brought the Penkins with you.”

  The relief in his voice was palpable, and it brought Mila up short. She’d known him almost all her life, but she’d never seen him look like this. It was normal for a parent to worry about their child prior to surgery, but the big blond man seemed almost frantic. His clothes were rumpled, his hair mussed, as if he’d been tearing at it with his hands, and his deep blue eyes had dark circles under them. The girl was only here for a tonsillectomy after all—a routine thing.

  “Tim, what’s wrong? Is she all right?”

  He shook his head, his expression growing frustrated. “I don’t know. They say it’s fine. I suppose I should believe them. They’re the doctors. But it feels wrong, like something’s sucking at her; and nobody believes me. They just keep passing it off as parental hysterics.” He turned to Baba. “Can you do an egg-rolling on her? Please? My wife thinks I’m crazy, but I don’t care. I know it works. I remember how much good you did in the neighborhood. I might not have the healing gift you and Mila do, but I could always sense things. And there’s something wrong with my baby.”

  Baba’s expression grew grave. “I believe you.” She patted his arm with her hand. “But I am old, and not as strong as I once was. Mila has come into her power. She is stronger than I and will do the rolling for your daughter.” She opened the carpetbag to pull out a yellow styrofoam box of eggs. Flipping it open, she removed two, sliding one in each of the two pockets of her cape. Then, closing the lid she pressed the box into Mila’s hand.

  “You can do this, child. I know it. Just concentrate hard to remember what I taught.” She turned to Candy. “You will know where I am if you need me.”

  At that she turned and bustled off, leaving Mila feeling confused and more than a little nervous. Tim was looking at her with such desperate expectation that it was honestly frightening. What if she failed? What if what she did didn’t help the child, but actually made things worse? What if she drained herself too far and couldn’t stop? She abruptly remembered that part of the past far too clearly—the danger of dying.

  “Please, Mila.” Candy whispered the plea, and when Mila turned to face her friend she saw tears brimm
ing in those beautiful blue eyes.

  Candy didn’t say another word, and she didn’t need to. She had no children of her own, and doted on her ten-year-old niece.

  Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Mila tried to project a level of confidence that couldn’t be further from her true feelings. “Of course.” She gave Candy an encouraging smile. “No problem.”

  Candy’s return look carried such a weight of trust and hope that Mila was afraid she’d be crushed beneath it. But she had no choice. Not really. She was Parask, and as Baba had said, the Parask did not refuse to heal just because the way was difficult.

  “Thank you so much. This means more to me than you know.” Tim reached over to give Mila’s shoulders a squeeze before hurriedly leading the women down the hall to the south wing. It wasn’t until they were nearly there that she realized that sometime during the conversation in the lobby Talos had disappeared. And while she knew he had his own business to attend to, she was surprised at how keenly she felt his absence.

  Tal regretted having to leave without so much as a word to his companions, but at least he had his eyes on one of the true criminals, so that was something. Mila had good instincts, among her other … attributes which, even now, he was struggling not to concentrate too much on. Those glowing eyes, so filled with magic that he wanted to wrap himself inside. And she didn’t remember their kind? It made him nearly sick to his stomach that someone would do that to her.

  No, better to return to the task at hand. Mila’s gaze had kept moving toward a particular man in the lobby, as if she noticed something odd about him. The action had drawn Tal’s attention to the man despite magical concealments. It was the witcher, the one who’d kicked Alexy, and he was searching the hospital for something … or someone.