by May Dawney
Oblivion sounded pretty good.
EPILOGUE
Don’t get lost. It is such a hard lesson to remember, but it’s the most important one. Don’t get lost behind the Veil. If you do, you are truly lost.
The second you forget that there is a shell beyond this world of magnificent glory, you will never be able to find it again. The longer you are away from your body, the harder it is to get back to it.
Don’t stay away too long. There’s too much wonder behind the Veil to hold on to the desire to return.
– Simon Magus, “The Fundamentals of Magic”
THERE WAS A knock on the door.
Alena looked up and frowned. She hoped to God it wasn’t Ellen. After the day she’d had she really wasn’t in the mood for her Otherkin ex-lover—and it was only lunchtime. “Enter?”
The door opened to reveal Claire, dressed in the jeans Alena had bought her, her sweater, and her jacket.
Relief lifted the boulder off her shoulders. “Hey, sorry you came to without me being there. Madame Stravinsky wanted to talk to Dad alone.” Then her gaze fell on the backpack around her shoulders. She frowned. “Going somewhere, Alice?” She put a fair bit of amusement into her tone, if only to cover her own confusion.
Claire raised an eyebrow. “My name is not Alice.”
Alena pushed up in a hurry. “Madame Stravinsky. What are you—?”
“Pack yourself a bag. Now.”
Alena’s smile fell. “W-What?” She hurried to close the door. “What are you doing? My father is going to have your head—Claire’s head!”
“Do you think I care, Alena? Pack yourself whatever you need, or we leave without.”
Alena’s mind raced to catch up. She squeezed her eyes to slits. “You’re going to Poland.”
“Your father is an idiot. He should have let me go much earlier, now we will be too late. The wild mage is worth any danger, you know she is.”
Alena shook her head. “I agree that my father is too cautious. I will even agree that we should have gone to Poland yesterday. But Madame Stravinsky, there’s no use. We can’t help them. They’re on the train, they made it out. They’re safe.”
Madame Stravinsky closed the distance between them and cupped her cheek. “That is where you are wrong, Lena.” She stroked it with her thumb. “I don’t trust the shadow mage. You were a child when her request to bring her lover into the Society was denied. You did not see the look in her eyes. I am no fool, I know what it looks like to make an enemy. I have made plenty throughout the years. We made an enemy of Otieno that day, and I think she knows exactly how valuable a wild mage would be to us.”
Alena resisted the urge to lean into the touch, if only because she looked into the eyes of a seventeen-year-old host, and not into those of the centuries old woman within. “You think she’s not coming to London.”
“You always were smart, girl. My very smart girl.”
A surge of pride shot through her veins. “I am not a girl anymore, I am thirty-three.”
“Age is only a number Alena, you know that just as well as I do.” Madame Stravinsky curled Claire’s lips into a smile. “I’ve known you for twenty-five years. No one here, not even your father, knows you better than I do. True?”
Alena swallowed. She had come to the Society when she had been younger than Claire, and even more frightened. Her father had been a busy man, and a stranger. Her only consistency? Madame Stravinsky.
After a moment of hesitation, she closed her eyes, laid her hand on Claire’s wrist, and leaned into the touch. It was easier to forget it wasn’t Claire touching her if she kept her eyes closed. “T-True. You do know me better than anyone alive.”
“We don’t always see eye to eye, but we know this is important, don’t we?”
Alena nodded.
“Your father won’t live through the demise of our kind, but you and I will. Alena, I want you beside me. You, me, and the wild mage together will be an unstoppable force.”
There was such a gentle persuasion in her voice that Alena’s worries dissolved. “What do you plan to do? They will have left Poland by the time we get to France. Where do we go?”
Madame Stravinsky hummed. “Yes, they will have, but I suspect that by that time this shadow mage will have taken the wild mage toward their destination. Your father is a stubborn man, but he wants the wild mage as much as we do. Once he realizes we are closer to the wild mage than anyone he can send—anyone who can withstand Wagner’s influence, at least—he will come around, and he will tell us where to go. Once we arrive, we will capture the wild mage and bring her back home with us.”
Alena considered the logic in Madame Stravinsky’s proposal. There certainly was a lot of logic there, but there were also many assumptions—mostly about her father. “Do you think my father will forgive that easily?” She opened her eyes because she needed to see Madame Stravinsky’s expression.
Madame Stravinsky chuckled. She shook Claire’s head. “No, he will not, but thankfully not all Society members are blithering idiots like him. They will convince him, or they will sneak us the coordinates.” Madame Stravinsky dropped her hand. “You want to fight, don’t you?”
Alena looked deeply into Claire’s eyes—into Madame Stravinsky’s eyes—and swallowed. “I do.”
“Then come. This body I’m in will need attending to, and she trusts you. She’ll be dazed and afraid when my connection to her invariably cuts out somewhere along the journey. You can soothe her.” Madame Stravinsky tapped the side of her head, as if Claire was in there right now, watching her through those bright blue eyes.
Alena searched them for reassurance, but the unfamiliarity of them threw her off. “My father—”
“Alena, he’s costing us the war. He’s costing us the earth. I know you care about him.” Madame Stravinsky took both her hands and stroked Claire’s thumbs along her skin. “But we have talked about all the good we can do, if we were to overthrow the Inquisitio. I know you believe in the dream.”
“I do.”
“So do I. I believe in magic, in your magic. I don’t want you to lose what makes you so special.” The smile Madame Stravinsky placed on Claire’s lips reminded Alena of her mother’s.
Her resolve crumbled more. She did want to see Madame Stravinsky’s vision of the future come to pass; she wanted to help people, help humanity. There was so much good they could do out in the light.
Her resentment towards her father for keeping her trapped inside these tunnels bubbled to the surface again.
Alena nose started to run, so she sniffed and took a deep breath. “I-I’ll pack a bag.”
Madame Stravinsky hummed her approval. “That’s my girl.”
* * *
They hurried down the tunnel. Madame Stravinsky pulled her along, holding her hand with Claire’s. Alena risked a glance behind her.
The tunnel was deserted.
She glanced back at Madame Stravinsky. “Do you think—”
“Alena!”
She jolted and scrambled to look back, just in time to see Dad appear around the corner.
Normally, her father was a man who controlled his emotions tightly. Today, they were written all over his face, and the anger that was etched into his features gave Alena chills.
“Stop. Now. You—” He pointed at Madame Stravinsky in Claire’s body. “I warned you.”
“Dad, I—” Claire’s hand slipped from her grasp.
Madame Stravinsky took a step forward. “Turn back, Gregorios. You know we’re right.” Her tone was dark and low. Menacing. “We’re trying to save the Society.”
“You’ll get us all killed—her killed.” He brought his hands up.
The most minute of vibrations traveled through the ground and up Alena’s legs. Her heartrate sprung to a gallop. Magic. Geo magic. They only had seconds. “Run!” Alena shoved Madame Stravinsky in the direction of the end of the tunnel. “Go, I’ve got this. Go!”
Madame Stravinsky glanced at her, seemed to debate
herself, then nodded. She turned and ran.
“Petrovna!” Dad frowned. He halted his hands. His gaze returned to her. “Alena, what are you doing? Why are you going with her? You don’t have to risk your life for her.”
Alena’s resolve crumbled just a touch. “I’m sorry, Daddy.” She brought her own arms up.
He took a step back. His eyes widened when he seemed to realize what she was about to do. “Alena, don’t.”
Alena took a step forward. “Will you let us go?” She looked him deep in the eye, and knew what his response would be. He couldn’t let them go. Not only was she his daughter, she was his subordinate, and this was actual mutiny.
The sound of footfalls hurrying through the tunnel became softer. Madame Stravinsky was running. She would get out, but if Alena let her go alone, then what would happen to Claire? If no one was there to do blood tests, or to make sure Madame Stravinsky fed her, and allowed her to sleep enough, would Claire be all right? Would she be scared if she came to alone on a train, unsure of where she was heading? She would be, and Madame Stravinsky wouldn’t take good care of her. She never took good care of her hosts. No, if Alena didn’t join her, then Claire would be in trouble.
Dad shook his head. “I’ve taken care of the Society for years, and we’re still here. I know what I’m doing. My decision is final, Alena. You abide by it or suffer the consequences.”
They stared at each other across the divide, both with arms raised, both with magic at their fingertips. He was more powerful than her. In a fair duel, she wouldn’t stand a chance. Luckily, he was a geomancer like her, so she wouldn’t have to play fair.
“Forgive me, father.” She allowed herself no more hesitation. She raised her arms up, cast a glare at the vaulted ceiling above his head, and brought it down.
The ground rumbled, her body swayed. Bricks and dust pushed through the tunnel.
She prayed that the motions she saw in the cloud were her father raising his arms to bring his magic to bear as a protective dome. Alena didn’t wait to find out. She turned and ran. A barrage of bricks and mortar wouldn’t stop her father. No doubt he was already amassing the magic it would take to dig his way out of the rubble. She had seconds, if that, but even if she got half a minute, it would be enough. She had to focus on not getting buried herself.
“Alena? Alena!” Claire’s shrill voice, with Madame Stravinsky’s deep undertone.
She sucked in air, in the hopes of responding, but only succeeded in filling her lungs with dust. She coughed, spat, struggled to find clean air.
Bricks still fell. Something sharp scraped past her cheek.
Then she got ahead of the cloud. Her vision had blurred. Her lungs burned. She stumbled, and nearly fell.
A strong hand gripped her arm and held her upright.
“Alena!” Madame Stravinsky sounded relieved. Her gaze rushed over Alena’s body and her free hand patted her down.
“T-That won’t hold him.” She coughed, spat again.
Already a rumble started up behind them. There wasn’t time to waste.
“G-Go!” She sank against the wall. Her lungs seem to have been coated with brick dust, and it was impossible to get enough oxygen to her brain. She felt dizzy. Guilt washed over her like a tidal wave. What had she done? Would her father ever forgive her for this? She couldn’t change it now, she could only ensure Madame Stravinsky got out. She would pay for that crime, anyway.
Madame Stravinsky slipped Claire’s arm under hers. “Not without you.”
Alena opened her mouth but shut it again. She really didn’t want to face her dad right now. If Madame Stravinsky was willing to help, she’d come, even though she felt very dizzy. “T-Then we’ll have to hurry.” She pushed away from the wall and stumbled along.
By the time they emerged in the abandoned church, another explosion sounded behind them.
Madame Stravinsky gripped her arm. “Can you run?”
Alena dusted herself off. A small trickle of something warm ran down along her cheek and neck. Had one of the bricks hit her? All she remembered was chaos. “I’ll be fine. Let’s go.” She wiped at what was most likely blood, but only managed to smear it.
Madame Stravinsky inspected the spot that started to throb. “We’ll deal with that later. You did good.”
“I dropped a tunnel roof onto my father’s head. I wouldn’t call that ‘doing good.’” She pushed the words out through gritted teeth, but she knew she couldn’t linger to dissect her actions. She made her way through the church and out into the graveyard ahead of Madame Stravinsky.
“You did what you had to do.”
“Only if we succeed.”
“We’ll succeed.” Madame Stravinsky was hot on her heels.
“I really hope you’re right.” They arrived at the shed and Alena unlocked it.
Madame Stravinsky collected their helmets and held hers out for her.
When she reached out, she realized she was covered in red dust. She was going to stand out, which was never good, but especially not when you were on the run. There was nothing she could do; her father would be out any second. She grabbed the helmet. “Where to?”
Madame Stravinsky held her gaze. “The train station, and from there on out, to Paris. With any luck, Roos will have discovered where they are heading by then.”
“And if she hasn’t—if the Society hasn’t?” Alena slipped the helmet on and opened the visor. She pushed her bike out of the graveyard as quickly as she could.
“Then they will either know where Wagner is headed, or they can tell us the wild mage’s current location. Either way, we will be closer to them than your father is.” Madame Stravinsky looked behind her every few seconds, but her voice was calm.
Alena opened the gate and pushed the bike through. “I hope you’re right. If you’re not…” She trailed off. She didn’t want to finish that thought, let alone the sentence. As much she hated the underground Den, it was the only home she had. If she could never return there, she didn’t know what she would do, or where she would go.
“I’m right.” Madame Stravinsky placed Claire’s hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “We have to go. Are you ready?”
Alena flung her leg over the bike and turned the engine on. She glanced at Madame Stravinsky one more time, then shut the visor by way of reply.
When she put her hands on the handlebars, Madame Stravinsky sat down behind her and wrapped Claire’s arms tightly around her waist. She squeezed; their indicator that she was ready.
Alena let the engine roar and prayed it would drown out her thoughts, which were racing faster than her bike ever could. She sped off, and wondered if this trip to the station would be the last she’d see of London now she had made a pariah out of herself.
###
OTHER WORKS IN THE VEIL CHRONICLES
Wild Magic
Ania Zaleska lives a perfectly ordinary—albeit floundering—life in Poland's second-biggest city until the day she explodes. She's dug from the rubble of her apartment building by shadow mage Noah Otieno, whose job it becomes to get Ania's wild magic under control.
Noah is affiliated with the Society for Psychical Defense but she has kept herself away from magical politics as much as possible. Now she is in charge of potentially the most powerful magical weapon on either side of the war, she must decide how she can best keep her safe—especially when their magic brings them together in ways only wild magic can.
>>> Buy Here <<<
[https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07BPXZF77]
Stolen Magic [14 June 2018]
Viktoria Wagner hasn’t always been the prototypical Inquisitio member. For one, she was born with the ability to channel magic and she spent much of her teenage years exploring her powers. A good twenty years and a few hard lessons later, Viktoria has only her high position within the Inquisitio left. She abandoned her magic in the hopes of pleasing her father, who has long since passed away.
When the wild mage manifests, it falls to Viktoria to hunt her
down in the knowledge that the Inquisitio might have forgiven her youthful transgressions, but they will not forgive another. Viktoria either brings the wild witch before the Court of Judges, or the Wagner name will be disgraced, and Viktoria will go to any length to prevent that from happening.
>>> Pre-Order Here <<<
[https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07CXH5BG3]
Magic Destroyed [14 July 2018]
All dice have been cast and Ania and Claire have lives on the line. Viktoria has her family name to uphold. The German Alps become the stage for an impossible choice: Preserve the Veil and wage war with the Inquisitio or seal it so the Otherworld will be forever beyond reach.
If five women on widely different sides of quickly unravelling events can come together, there might be a third choice. Will the world survive the manic plans of an untrained wild witch?
They’ll find out one way or another.
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