by Cat Adams
CHAPTER 13
She heard the jumble of voices as the men tried to find out what was happening from their mothers. But she wasn’t listening. Instead, she was watching the tendrils carefully, with a sort of fascination. The sickness was looking for a place to expand, someone else to infect. But it couldn’t attach to the others—she watched as tendrils reached for them, only to shrink back abruptly.
Then it occurred to her … they were mages. Tal had said he lost his parents and was sent to a foster family—also mages. Jason’s mother was earth clan, but he had inherited his father’s talent. “It makes perfect sense.”
Tal must have been waiting for a reaction from her because he pounced on her words. “What does?”
“Of course he wouldn’t create a virus he could catch. You’re all immune.” But as she watched the squirming threads of the sickness grow stronger, even as Jason’s alchemist mother got weaker, she knew she had to do something. She opened her eyes and managed to get to her feet among the smelly vegetables and brushed off the sticky seeds as best she could. But this cloak is never going to be the same, and I need a shower.
Jason was helping his mother rise to a sitting position. But she couldn’t hold it and fell backward. In that brief movement, panic flashed in Mila’s mind. She saw a wisp of a tendril … seeping down, into the ground. Magic. It’s a magical illness. But can a Tree catch a virus?
“We have to get her out of here! Now!” She hadn’t realized she’d yelled as her eyes opened, but everyone silenced and turned with wide eyes. Mila didn’t want to panic them, but something told her if they stayed, the slave Tree was going to catch Tin Czerwona and send it straight to the Tree of Life. “Somewhere, anywhere. But we need to get this woman away from the Tree.”
“We can’t move Mum. She’s horribly ill. We need to find a healer to come to her.” Jason looked at Mila as though she was insane and his voice reflected his anger and worry.
But Tal took in the whole scene before turning his face back to her and rumbling a question. “What’s the problem?”
“She is sick, Tal—with the same thing as Suzanne. And she’s about to infect the Tree. We need to get her away.” She stared at him strongly, willing him to understand. She tried to push the words into his head. Please figure this out so I don’t have to say it, Tal. It’s Tin Czerwona, and it’s contagious. C’mon, you’re smart enough.
Whether he heard her, or figured it out on his own, she watched as confusion turned to panic, and then to action. He rose to his feet, away from his mother and picked up the other woman in his arms. “No time for talking, Jason. We need to get back to the shop. Mila, do you need to stay here to fix … anything?”
She closed her eyes again and stared at the ground. Thankfully, as soon as Tal had picked the woman up, the tendril had broken off. She nearly slapped her forehead. Duh. This was the mage branch, so likely the roots were filled with fire magic. She shook her head. “No, our luck is holding. But we need to hurry, and keep away from other people on the way back.” Jason started to open his mouth, reaching to take his mother from Tal’s arms, but she held up a hand. “Please, Jason. Once we get back to the store, I’ll explain everything. I know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but please try to trust Tal for a few more minutes. I swear it’s important.”
Tal nodded once at his former friend but didn’t wait for a reply. He took off at a fast walk, carrying the heavyset woman with obvious effort. But then he muttered a word and she felt a blast of warm air swirl around her ankles as she followed. A shimmering appeared around him and she could see his shoulders relax under the cloak. It took a moment to put it in place but she smiled when she did. Well isn’t that a nifty trick? Hot air rises, so she’s not as heavy.
Jason’s voice came from behind her. “Can I give you a lift there, ladies? I dunno what Tal’s all about, but it seems important. I’ve not much magic left in me focus, but enough for this. Let’s have us a little boost, eh?”
She felt herself rising from the ground and struggled to keep her balance, twisting and turning as she quickly moved forward a foot or more above the bricks. “Whoa whoa whoa—”
A light hand touched her shoulder and the woman chuckled in a warm British alto. “You’re not used to riding the currents then, are you, dearie? It’s jolly good fun.”
Jason leaned over to whisper in her ear. “That’s why there are no cars down here. Never used to be a need.”
Tal’s foster mother must have heard. Her face was filled with open amazement. “Cars? You mean autos? Are you from the overworld, then?”
“This is Mila, Sybil. She’s a friend of Tal’s.” He looked at Sybil with raised brows then hooked a thumb toward her. “This lass wandered through that gate you’re not supposed to know about near Mum and Da’s flat … by herself.”
Sybil likewise raised her brows, and looked at her with a new expression, but Mila couldn’t quite tell whether she was surprised, impressed, or disapproving. Her own mother used to give her that sort of look when she would finally reveal something outrageous she’d done, long after the fact.
By the time they got back to the butcher shop, Jason’s mother, who Mila learned was named Dareen, was unconscious and moaning lightly. She didn’t even have to use her inner eye to see that the virus had spread. Tal placed the woman on the couch at the edge of the tiny kitchen, backed away carefully, and turned to look at Mila. “Can you help her?”
She shook her head and shrugged. “I honestly don’t know.” She looked out the window into the darkness of the cavern and threw up her hands. “No sun, no moon—which are who I call on for strength and purpose. And, it kicked my butt last time. I passed out before Suzanne was healed. This is even further along. Of course I’ll try. Like Baba said … we don’t refuse to heal just because the way is difficult.”
Jason wasn’t even listening. He’d knelt down by his mother’s side and was holding her hand firmly while trying to revive her by calling to her softly. Tal nodded and touched her shoulder with a look of gratitude.
But she was surprised at how Sybil reacted to what she said. Her expression darkened, making her eyes glitter angrily. The flames that decorated her robe leapt higher and crackled, as though tied to her mood.
It wasn’t in Mila’s nature to just ignore a glare like that, so she turned fully toward her and cocked her head. She tried hard not to put any particular emotion into her voice. “Is something wrong?”
Sybil’s features twisted into a look of loathing and barely contained rage. She clenched fists until her knuckles were stretched white. “It’s no wonder you’ve never ridden the currents … no wonder Dareen’s fallen ill.” Mila reared back, struggling to figure out what she was talking about, but in the next moment it was made clear. Sybil turned all that quickly rising emotion on Tal, who regarded his foster mother with an expression of surprise and confusion. “How dare you bring a filthy Parask into our midst! We banished that disease-ridden guild to the overworld for just this reason, Talos.” Holding out a shaking finger, Sybil pointed at her and spat words with a viciousness Mila had only previously heard in news footage of race riots. “Begone, enemy of Demeter … carrier of the red death … whore of the dark mage! I call on thee, blessed Demeter—” She paused and then her lips trembled for a moment, the final words finally rumbling from her chest to hang in the air with deadly intent. “Strike down this befouler of the craft!”
“Mother! No!” Tal’s hand shot out as though warding off a blow and he pulled Mila behind him frantically with his other hand in a vain attempt to shield her from the curse. But there was no stopping it, no counterspell in existence that could avert the weighing of the Tree’s judgment against another guilder.
He’d never seen his foster mother like this. Her eyes were glittering with fevered intensity and a cruel smile was painted on her lips as the air grew heavy and still. He felt his heart pound with fear and a knot formed in his stomach that made him want to vomit. He clutched Mila’s arm tightly as he waited to
see what would happen.
It certainly wasn’t what he expected. Mila yanked away from his grasp and came around from behind him, walking through the ozone-scented air as though it was nothing. “Excuse me?!” she yelled right at Sybil. “Who the hell are you to call me a befouler? I haven’t befouled anything and I’m sure as hell not Vegre’s whore.” Mila stormed forward, not even understanding enough to be afraid. I’ll wager she doesn’t even realize a curse has been laid. She landed inches away from his foster mother with clenched fists, so close that their noses were almost touching. “Where do you get off calling me a whore? You don’t know me, bitch … don’t know a thing about me or my family.” She turned one shoulder enough to point at Dareen’s still form, but remained inches from Sybil’s shocked face. Tal couldn’t tell whether she was shocked that Mila was still upright, or that she dared to dispute her claims. “It’s a damn good thing it’s not you lying there, lady, because I’m not sure I’m a good enough person not to let you just suffer.”
Mila shook her head before turning her back on them all to walk over and take Jason’s place at Dareen’s bedside. Jason had stood and backed away after the curse was laid. He was in the room’s farthest corner, looking on the scene with mingled fear and confusion. No doubt he was also watching to see where the curse would land, and what effect it would have.
But Mila wasn’t done yet, and Tal watched her in a sort of stunned admiration. She touched Dareen’s forehead and shook her head once more before muttering to herself. “Geez, Viktor was right about you guys. No wonder nobody has wanted to fix the Trees for you.”
Silence descended on the room as Mila pried open Dareen’s lids to look into her pupils. She winced at whatever she saw and then closed her eyes. Her head and hands moved in unison, apparently seeing the illness with her other sight. It took a moment for Tal to realize the air had cleared. For the first time he’d seen, a befouler curse had dissolved without striking a target. Either the Tree wasn’t able to raise enough power to punish, or it judged them all to be without fault.
Sybil apparently realized it at the same moment and opened her mouth. But he held up a warning hand and let out a growl. “Enough, Mother. It’s the Sacred Tree who has judged here and your new goddess Demeter obviously has no power to override it. Mila is no befouler, so just stop this.”
His words made her flinch and retreat into her robe, as though he’d struck her. He let out a frustrated breath. “Where did these strange new beliefs come from, Mother? When did you turn your back on the Tree’s good ways?” He pointed at Mila, who was doing her best to ignore them all. “Mila hasn’t harmed you … hasn’t harmed anyone. Even the Tree knows she’s good and kind and incredibly intelligent—and until the lot of us came into her world, had no idea she was even a guilder. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Sybil had gotten her composure back while he spoke and he suddenly realized that the calm, rational woman who’d raised him had disappeared. She regarded him with what appeared to be sadness, but was merely a mask over the top of her delusion. “Yes. Of course I understand, son. She’s bewitched you with the conjurer’s soul-corrupting magic. He told us this might happen when the end of the days of the Tree came near. But once Demeter is returned to her throne over the guilds, She will cleanse the land of their kind. I can only pray that you’ll be safe and will be returned to me when the era of fire begins.”
Mila threw up her hands abruptly enough that he and Jason both flinched. “Oh for God’s sake! This is getting ridiculous. I’m sorry, but you either need to get your whacked-out mom the hell out of here, Tal, or tell me to go. ’Cause I’m not going to stay and try to heal Dareen in the same room as her—she’s ruining my concentration. And the Tin Czerwona is getting worse by the second, so pick fast. She won’t last much longer.”
Tal looked between the two women. He’d known Sybil most of his life … had believed everything she’d taught him about truth and goodness. So why was he favoring Mila’s comments and believing that his mother was whacked out? Am I bewitched?
Jason spoke up before he had a chance to make a decision, and he couldn’t say he was sorry. “That’s about enough from the lot of you.” He left his corner at last and walked forward with authority before pointing at Mila, but looking at Sybil. “I know what me own eyes saw earlier at the Tree, so I’ve no choice but to give some credence to the lass.”
Tal agreed. There was no disputing Mila’s healing abilities anymore. When she’d knelt beneath the Sacred Tree and touched it—well, it was like nothing he’d experienced before. He’d seen dozens … no, hundreds of Guilders lay their hands on the Tree—whether seeking guidance, praying, or just in reverence. But he’d never seen the Tree actually choose to bond with a crafter before. Her hands had just sunk into the limb in a glow of blue power, and warmth had flowed in a wide circle around the trunk. They’d been nearly too awestruck to notice when it had started to go wrong and it was only Mila’s sharp gasp of pain that had brought them out of their stupor in time.
Dareen moaned just then and a rumbling came from beneath Tal’s feet. He wouldn’t normally notice the fine trembling of the floor or the swaying of the delicate china cups on their hooks under the cabinets because it was so faint. But combined with the possibility that a dirtdog had contracted Tin Czerwona, it spoke volumes. Once the disease began to progress, it would be dangerous to stay here, since even without magic, the very ground would react and try to bury them alive. Jason’s face took on a new panic. He dropped to his knees beside the couch and yanked up the sleeve of her crimson cloak, baring skin for the room to see. Her alchemist birthmark, the same comb pattern as Alexy wore on his bicep, was swollen and glowing a deep rust-red. Jason dropped the sleeve abruptly and rubbed his hands on his pants with wide eyes. He turned his head again to Sybil, his words flat and final. “That tears it. Get out of me house.”
“Jason, you don’t understand what’s happening here. She’s—” Sybil pointed at Mila, her face already speaking the accusation that hadn’t yet hit air.
The Fomorian stood firm. He clenched his dark fists and Tal watched as flames began to lick the air around his skin. But this was real … not mere decoration. “Me da’s away, and me mum’s in no state to speak. Until one returns to claim it, I declare familial right of this house. I claim the magic it contains and I revoke your welcome and your power here. Get out.”
Sybil’s voice raised in a panic that was suddenly very real. Having Jason revoke her welcome had made her forever powerless in this place. It was an enchantment on every home by the kings to keep the peace, and didn’t rely on an individual family’s magic ability to maintain it. “You’re siding with a Parask, Jason. It’s forbidden, and dangerous! You don’t know what you’re doing. The legends speak of—”
“The legends.” Jason sneered and snorted loudly. “Those old legends are a flippin’ joke. I’ve learned too much in the overworld to be frightened like a child. Frankly, I don’t care one dosh if Mila’s a soul-conjurer, an African witch doctor shaking gourds, or a naked mole rat in disguise. She’s offerin’ to help and, in fact, has offered nothing but kindness and charity so far. ’Tis only your words which concern me, Mrs. Onan. While I appreciate that you brought Mum to find help—which is the only reason I’m giving you fair warning, I say again … get out of me house before I put you out.”
Then Sybil turned to Tal, her voice so weedling and needy it made him cringe. They’d done something to her, the Children. This tactic was beneath the woman he knew. “Tal, talk some sense into your friend. You wouldn’t let him harm me, would you?”
Actually, he wouldn’t, but he couldn’t let her know that—couldn’t let her try to use him as leverage. The ground rumbled again as Dareen moaned and twisted in growing delirium. He had no doubt Mila couldn’t craft under this tension. Other than combat spells, he doubted he could, either. “I’d do as he orders, Mom. Having us both put out won’t help your friend Dareen.”
Her face moved through a dozen emotio
ns before settling into a cold, distant expression that was unlike anything he’d seen her wear before. He needed to find out what they’d done to her, and how to bring her back to the mother he knew. Soon, but not this moment.
“Very well,” she said at length. “I’ll go. But we will be back to cleanse this place of the Parask scum, so be warned.”
Mila let out a rude noise by vibrating her outstretched tongue, without even turning her head to acknowledge the words. It made Jason smile, which was apparently the last straw for Sybil. She turned and stomped down the stairs. She probably would have slammed the door if there was one. Jason moved to the window and after a moment the tension in his shoulders eased. He flicked his wrist with a flourish and Tal felt a pressure against his ears as the house’s protection barrier covered over the open spaces. Only those invited would be able to pass, which was probably a good thing … especially if she decided to make good on her threat. Jason turned to him with raised brows and a shake of his head. “Your mum’s gone crackers. You know that—right, mate?”
His reply came out angry and he realized his fists were clenched in frustration. “That’s not my mom, Jason. That group’s done something to her. Plus, we don’t know that your mom hasn’t gone crackers, too. One of us needs to follow her, keep her from reaching the other Children.”
Jason chuckled. “No need, mate. Look outside.” His friend … yes, Tal realized he did consider Jason a friend again, curled one side of his mouth in a wry grin.
Tal walked to the window and stared down into the street. Sybil was standing with furrowed brow, tapping her finger on her lip and flicking her eyes around the landscape as though searching for something. “What is she doing? Is she bewitched?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Jason said and returned to the couch to sit on the armrest next to Dareen’s head. “It’s part of the house magic. I’ve never really understood it, but if someone leaves here in anger, they won’t remember why they were angry by the time they reach a block. She’ll wander off and find her group and not have the vaguest notion of where she’s been for the past few hours.” He raised a hand as Tal’s expression darkened, as though anticipating his objection that a memory alteration spell was incredibly illegal. “I know ‘tis not proper. But not me doin’. This is house magic, not a spell. But I must admit it’s been useful for the business. Never an angry customer that leaves our shop.”