Mad Magic

by Nicole Conway

  “Forget her and get your ass over here.” Zeph’s voice was choked with emotion. “She tried to petrify Josie. I can’t undo it all the way.”

  Eldrick bent down, grasping my chin in his fingers as he peered into my eyes. “Can you see me, Josie?”

  “Y-yes,” I rasped.

  He gave a quick nod before flashing a look at Zeph. “She’ll be fine. I can undo the rest of the spell. Bring her inside.”

  Zeph carried me silently through the apartment into my bedroom. He was still shaking and his chin was twitching like he could barely keep it together. As soon as he laid me down on the bed, he backed away to lean against the wall. His jaw clenched and he put his face in his hands.

  I tried to reach for him. “I-I’m okay, Zeph. It wasn’t your fault.”

  He snapped a cold glare up at me, his hands curling into fists. His eyes blazed and a throbbing vein stood out against his neck. I waited for the yelling to start. Cursing. Flailing. Pitching his usual fit. I would have taken any of it right then just to know he was still himself.

  But he didn’t make a sound. Zeph bolted from the bedroom with a flurry of violet feathers, slamming the door behind him.

  My heart sank.

  “That imbecile,” Eldrick muttered under his breath.

  My tears felt cool against my flushed skin. “It wasn’t his fault. I wandered away from him at the fair—I wasn’t paying any attention.”

  Eldrick snorted. “He should have known better than to take you out into public like that.”

  I didn’t want to argue. It wasn’t Zeph’s fault, though. I had insisted on a date. He’d only taken me there because I demanded something romantic. He was trying to make me happy.

  I tried to swallow back the stiffness in my throat. “Whatever that woman did to me, you can fix it, right?”

  “Indeed,” Eldrick sighed and approached the bed, leaning over to inspect me again. His silver eyes darted all over, as though he were scrutinizing every detail. “Petrification requires a skilled touch. Ideally, this sort of spell would render the victim perfectly incapacitated and alive, making them easy to take advantage of. Lumi must have botched the spell. Amateur.”

  “O-oh.”

  He stretched a hand over me, his fingers spread wide as his palm hovered right over face. “You’ll most likely feel weak for a few days, and there may be some lingering numbness in your extremities. But the effects won’t be permanent.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  He frowned, his expression sharpening for an instant. “You … do not need to thank me for this.”

  What? Why? What had changed? I wanted to ask, but my body felt so weak. My thoughts became hazy again as a gentle, soothing melody hummed in the air. It washed over me, relaxing every part of my body as though I were drifting in a pool of cool water.

  I didn’t care about anything, then. Where Zeph was, why that woman had tried to kidnap me—none of it mattered. My eyelids got heavier and heavier as I took in deep, comfortable breaths. I let the faint smell of eucalyptus and the whispering of chimes carry me away.

  By Sunday, everything was back to normal.

  Well, it was for me, anyway.

  Eldrick’s efforts at removing the petrification had worked. I didn’t have any more numbness or tingling in my fingers and toes. I felt fine. Zeph, on the other hand, was still haunting my steps with his gaze darting at every sudden sound. He wouldn’t tell me why Lumi had attacked me like that, no matter how many times I asked. Was it really because I had been with him? Somehow … that answer didn’t satisfy me anymore. This wasn’t just some silly ivy plant or Bunsen burner acting up.

  That woman had nearly killed me. I needed to know why. But if I was going to get any useful information out of Eldrick, it would have to happen after Zeph went to work.

  I glanced at the clock on my phone again. Not long now.

  Eldrick was scowling into the refrigerator. “Are we out of milk again?”

  “I was thirsty,” Zeph mumbled.

  “That doesn’t entitle you to drink the entire gallon in one sitting.” Eldrick slammed the fridge door and stalked over to the coffee maker.

  I stuffed my phone back into my pocket. “Why are you guys vegetarians, anyway?”

  “All faeries are,” Eldrick scoffed. “We cannot eat anything that contains or is tainted by the blood of a living being. It makes us violently ill.”

  I was now well acquainted with what “violently ill” meant by faerie standards, and I was not interested in repeating that experience. Just thinking about it made me cringe.

  “Most of us, not all,” Zeph corrected.

  Eldrick snorted in agreement. “True. There are an infamous few whose souls have been so befouled and utterly warped by hatred, they actually crave it. It’s repulsive.”

  I wondered if that was where legends about vampires had come from. Zeph had mentioned something about them being associated with faeries before. “What about eggs?”

  “Eggs are good,” Zeph replied from where he was sitting at the table, nibbling on a fresh peach. “Basically no meat. And pure foods like milk, fruit, honey, and some vegetables are the best.”

  “Pure foods,” Eldrick explained, like he knew I was about to ask what that meant. “Those are products of nature that don’t require any living creature to suffer by taking them—including plant life. We can stomach plants, however, because of their lack of blood.”

  “Oh.” Well, that explained why Zeph had devoured the entire jar of my expensive organic raw honey. “Where is the best place to go out to eat, then?”

  The two faerie men glanced at one another, as though they were sharing some private, telepathic conversation.

  For an instant, I wished I wasn’t the only human in the room.

  Zeph shrugged and whipped out his phone. “It doesn’t matter to me. I can’t go anyway.”

  I gave him what I hoped would be a convincing frown. “Work?”

  “Yep. Hank texted me earlier. He’s swamped at the bar tonight.” He didn’t sound very excited about it.

  I picked at my fingernails. “So … if Eldrick and I go out for some dinner, should I bring something back for you?”

  Zeph cut me glare. His brow creased and his eyes narrowed.

  “It’ll be fine. Eldrick will be there. We won’t go far.”

  He pursed his lips, gaze flickering over to Eldrick—who was still preoccupied with pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee.

  “And we’ll come straight back after. I promise.”

  “Ugh, fine.” Zeph sighed and rubbed his forehead “Straight back here, though. I mean it. It’ll be late when I get back. Eldrick, make sure she stays out of trouble.”

  The dark spirit leaning against my kitchen counter casually sipping coffee, shot him a dirty look. “You have no authority to give me orders, changeling scum.”

  They bickered right up until Zeph shut the front door behind him. I didn’t say a single word until he was gone because I refused to pick a side. If this was a matter of one of them establishing himself as the alpha dog, then they were just going to have to sort it out on their own. I just hoped they figured it out soon because their childish arguing was going to drive me nuts.

  “Are we going?” Eldrick was watching me with a puzzled expression.

  Standing at the kitchen sink, I realized I’d been staring at the sparkling purple feather—Zeph’s feather—that was still inside the vase on the windowsill. Something about the way the moonlight caught it made my head feel fuzzy.

  “Sure.” I forced a smile and grabbed my coat and scarf off the back of the sofa on my way to the door.

  “Wait,” Eldrick snapped suddenly. He caught the back of my coat, yanking me to an abrupt halt. Then he grasped my shoulders and spun me around to face him.

  I was a little alarmed. He wasn’t usually so eager to touch me, or anyone else for that matter.

  He had a pensive frown against his sharp fe
atures as he took my scarf and began tying it into a complex knot around my neck. “You always wear it wrong,” he insisted as he finished tucking the loose ends under the collar of my coat. “If you’re going to wear a scarf, tie it like this.”

  I blushed. “Thank you.”

  He made an impatient, huffing noise and nodded toward the door. Eldrick almost never wore a coat, even though it was freezing outside. I didn’t understand it. After all, Zeph wore one. Did faeries get cold? Or was it just a fashion statement? Somehow, I doubted Zeph dressed with any regard for style.

  Eldrick, on the other hand, seemed to care a lot about how he looked. Once again, he was wearing all black—black pants, black dress shoes, and a black sweater over a black button-down dress shirt. His clothes were so formal—or at least, they seemed that way to me. I wasn’t used to being around someone who cared anything about looking fashionable.

  Eldrick walked beside me out into the chilly night, his stride brimming with a sense of proud elegance. Zeph had called him a prince before. When he walked like that, he certainly looked like nobility. He had his broad shoulders back, his head held high, and his hands tucked into his pockets. It made him seem sophisticated.

  “Don’t you get cold?” I finally decided to ask as we began our casual stroll downtown.

  He glanced down at me through his feathery black bangs. “No.”

  “Because you’re a puca?”

  “Yes, I suppose that is the simplest explanation.”

  “I’m sorry. I know I ask a lot of questions,” I mumbled. “I don’t understand the world you come from. And now it seems like Zeph was right; the closer I get to him, the more dangerous things are.”

  Out of the blue, Eldrick grabbed my arm and pulled me closer against his side. His eyes met mine. My stomach fluttered. His face was so close. He had never tried to touch me like that before.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t like him or find him attractive. He was frighteningly handsome, if not a little intimidating. And while we had gotten off to the worst start imaginable, things were different now. He was becoming the closest thing I had to family.

  But I couldn’t think of him that way.

  I was trying to think of a nice way to pull my arm away without offending him when someone on a bicycle went zipping past us, narrowly missing me.

  Once again, he’d saved me from being run over.

  “You have the resources to learn about our world, if you desire. Your father left many valuable texts behind,” he said casually, as though nothing had happened—but he hadn’t let go of my arm.

  “I can’t read any of it. It’s all written in the faerie language.”

  “Humans can learn to read our language. It is the voice of the earth. All beings have an innate understanding of it. It is what you would call instinctual.” He kept talking while he looked straight ahead.

  I grinned at him hopefully. “Will you help me learn?”

  “If you desire.”

  “It’s just … I don’t want to be afraid anymore. If something bad happens again, I want to be able to handle things myself instead of relying on you and Zeph to come to my rescue.”

  Eldrick flicked a strange look down at me. I almost mistook it for concern. “Does our presence displease you?”

  I blinked in surprise. “N-no! That’s not it at all. I just, well, I suppose I still keep asking myself if I’m going to wake up one day and you’ll both be gone. Then I’ll be alone again. And I’ll have to figure out some way to survive on my own.”

  I was uncomfortable admitting that. I didn’t want to cheapen their efforts—especially Zeph’s—in keeping me safe.

  I cleared my throat. “What does the faerie language sound like?”

  Eldrick’s tense, furrowed brow went slack. His expression became as serene and blissful as the cool surface of the moon. “Music,” he breathed the word as though it were ecstasy.

  “You mean like the chimes?” I knew that sound well.

  He nodded slowly. “Ages ago, some called it the music of the spheres. Your father possessed an exquisitely intimate knowledge of spellsongs. He could hear the tones and translate the harmonics into the human language.” We paused at a corner, letting a few bicyclers pass on the sidewalk. “To be perfectly frank, I’m impressed he was able to do such a thing. The details of our language, particularly the ancient spellsongs that comprise spellwork, are difficult for even an elder fae to discern. I’ve never seen so many texts about us in the human language before.”

  My head spun with questions as I tried to keep up with Eldrick’s long strides. “What’s a spellsong? And what does it have to do with spellwork?”

  “A spellsong is, as you described it, the chimes. The use of magic of any kind has a unique sound. A song, if you will.”

  My lips parted—that was why I heard that sound whenever Zeph or Eldrick worked magic!

  “Some are more distinct and obvious than others, usually depending on their desired effect. But each note, each melody, can be paired with a unique shape, line, or design—something your father quite skillfully deciphered.” He stopped at the edge of a crosswalk and turned to face me. “It isn’t unlike how humans write sheet music. You need to see the notes in order to understand how a song is made.”

  “Do faeries have to write down all their spellwork, too?”

  He smiled and opened his other hand. One twist of his wrist, and a beautifully intricate ring of bright runes appeared. It hovered in the air above his open hand, glowing softly while the details, designs, and smaller rings within it moved like the inner mechanisms in a pocket watch.

  My breath caught as the familiar tingle whispered over on my skin. I heard the soft, whispering of bells in my ear.

  Other people were walking and cycling by, passing us on the sidewalk. But no one else even seemed to notice. It was as though they couldn’t see it at all. It was just the same as when Lumi had kidnapped me—they were blind to it.

  “Most faeries do not require a knowledge of how a spell is made. For us, it is innate—comparable to someone who can play by ear rather than requiring sheet music. But there are instances where we must know how to read spellwork, such as in the case of learning a new spell, or performing a ritual that would be otherwise unnatural to us,” he explained, snapping his hand closed and extinguishing the spell. “Apparently, your father had begun developing some of his own spells; a dangerous endeavor for a human. His journals are full of them.”

  The light turned green and we crossed the street together. I clung closer to Eldrick’s side, taking refuge from the bitter wind against his tall frame. “If it was so dangerous, then why would he go to so much trouble?”

  Eldrick’s expression became stony and impossible to read. His lips pressed together as though he’d tasted something bitter. “We once had our own written records of our history, and catalogues of every spell known in our world. But such things aren’t valued anymore. Most faeries now care more about their own survival than trying to preserve our history.”

  I nodded. “Zeph said something like that, too.”

  Eldrick’s brow creased. “The minds of my kind are changing rapidly, turning from the old ways and caring little about the harmony of the earth. It can’t be helped, since so much of our existence now depends on the activity of humans. We are following you on your path to self-destruction like lambs to the slaughter.”

  So much for progress.

  We’d come to a small, familiar bistro on the street corner near my school. It was the same one where he waited for me while I was in class. They had a nice menu on display by the curb, and while the food definitely sounded delicious, I knew the real reason he had chosen to come here had nothing to do with the food. This place served lots of expensive, house-roasted coffees.

  No one liked coffee more than Eldrick. I didn’t know exactly how many cups he drank on a daily basis, but considering how much more I had to buy now just to meet his demand—I was willing to bet it
was in the twenties. He snubbed all the cheap bargain brands and always went straight for the exotic gourmet dark roasts.

  Eldrick held the door for me, then took my coat and scarf to carry it to a table near the back of the restaurant. He held a chair out for me as we settled in. It was so formal. I wasn’t used to being treated this way. A waitress brought us menus and glasses of water. Eldrick ordered an appetizer of hummus and sliced vegetables to share.

  But as hungry as I was, I couldn’t think about food yet. This was my chance. We were alone, out of Zeph’s earshot. It was time to get answers.

  “Can I ask you something in confidence?” I used spreading my napkin across my lap as an excuse not to meet his gaze.

  “By that, I assume you mean you would prefer that I didn’t relay any of this to your lover?”

  It took a second for me to collect my sanity, which he’d just smashed like a glass Christmas ornament. “No—well, yes. But we aren’t lovers. In fact, I’m not even sure he thinks of me that way.”

  “He does.” Eldrick sounded extremely sure about that.

  “H-how do you …”

  He rolled his silver eyes. “Don’t be childish. A man doesn’t do the things he has for someone he doesn’t have feelings for. That he is willing to jeopardize his own life should be evidence enough that his feelings are amorous.” Eldrick picked up a slice of cucumber from the appetizer tray and popped it into his mouth. “I doubt he would go to such lengths for anyone else.”

  “What lengths has he gone to?” I wasn’t sure I was ready to know, but the way he said it made it sound important. “Does it have something to do with the curse you mentioned before?”

  Eldrick didn’t answer right away. The waitress came back to our table, and he ordered a large black coffee. I ordered one of their signature sandwiches, even if the current subject had completely ruined my appetite.

  “I take it this is the question you’d like to keep between us,” he said after the waitress had gone.

  I was hoping he would be able to read the answer in my eyes. Zeph didn’t want me to know what was going on. He’d already gone to a lot of trouble to lie and hide his identity from me. Now, I could sense that he was keeping secrets again. The past two times I had figured things out the hard way. I didn’t want to go through that again.