Mad Magic

by Nicole Conway

  “It was all an illusion?” I stopped to stare at the abandoned house. My pulse was still racing as I tried to make sense of it. The wedding, the police cars, and the children—none of it was real.

  “A trap is more like it,” Hank answered gruffly. “And a damn good one. I didn’t sense a thing.”

  “Ah, well, try not to take it personally,” Zeph murmured. “You are getting pretty senile these days.”

  Hank scowled. “Yeah? Then what’s your excuse?”

  My head was throbbing as I climbed into the backseat of Hank’s old Cadillac. I couldn’t fathom it—how could none of that have been real? The policeman we’d spoken to had looked and sounded just like a normal person. I couldn’t even comprehend the depth of the magical power Fir Darrig had used to create all that. And to fool Zeph, Eldrick, and Hank so easily? It made my insides tie up in knots.

  Zeph got into the back with me, but neither of us said a word. He slipped his hand out of mine to light up one of his painkiller cigarettes, and I wondered if he was only doing that so he wouldn’t have to touch me.

  Outside, Hank was thanking Jack Frost for his help. The two shook hands, exchanging a few parting words. Jack leaned around to wink at me again before he took off into the sky.

  My phone chirped inside my coat pocket. I took it out, and quickly checked the screen.

  [CAMILLA]: Are you okay? Did something happen? We can sense you. Others are talking.

  I tried to be discreet as I sent her a reply, turning so that Zeph couldn’t see. I explained what had happened as briefly as I could, and assured her I was fine. I was about to put my phone away again when the screen flashed with another message.

  [CAMILLA]: Be careful. Freddy says he has something for you. Let’s meet soon.

  Hank didn’t like Eldrick driving his car. But with his head still bleeding from the scary-looking knot forming on his forehead, we all agreed he shouldn’t be behind the wheel. Still, the tension in the air didn’t let up for a second as we drove home in complete silence.

  Eldrick parked on the curb outside our apartment building long enough for Zeph and I to get out. I didn’t want to let it show, but I was still feeling numb and dizzy from the spells I’d used. No one had mentioned that there might be an issue with me using too much of my power at once. Now, I was feeling the full effect of it. My headache had gotten worse, like a pulsing pressure in my brain.

  “I’ll take him home and come straight back.” Eldrick called after us.

  I waved a hand to let him know that was okay.

  Once we were back in my apartment, I shrugged out of my soggy winter coat. It was soaked through with melted snow and speckled with Zeph’s blood. My head swam as I started for the kitchen. Aspirin—I just needed some aspirin and a glass of water. I’d be fine then … right?

  Zeph caught me as my legs gave out. “Easy, princess.” His tone was softer, gentler, as he slipped his arms under my back and knees to carry me. “Let’s get you to bed.”

  My head lolled against his shoulder. “You’re angry at me, aren’t you?”

  “No.”

  “You are. I can tell.”

  He sighed deeply. “No, not at you. Let’s talk about it later. You need to rest.” He stopped at the edge of my bed and laid me down, carefully tucking me into the warm blankets.

  “I thought you were the one who was supposed to get sick from using too much magic,” I tried to tease him. “No puking this time?”

  Zeph chuckled. “No. You gave me quite a jolt—enough to keep me sustained for a few hours unless I try any heavy spellwork. Last time I had to dump every drop you gave me into that boy. If I’m careful, I can make this last and taper it off gradually. No puking.”

  I reached up, brushing my fingers over his stubbly cheek. “I’m sorry. I would have fixed it before, if I’d known.”

  “Nah,” he muttered and placed his hand over mine, holding it against the side of his face. “I deserved it that time.”

  No argument there. Maybe I deserved it this time, since I was the one sneaking around and learning spells behind his back. But if I hadn’t … he would have …

  “I thought I lost you there for a minute.” My voice cracked. “Don’t do that to me again, idiot.”

  Zeph didn’t answer. His gaze met mine, riddled with intensity and emotion that never made it past his lips. Didn’t he know I couldn’t handle it? I couldn’t lose another person I loved. I wondered if that was part of being the vessel; if there was some curse on me that said I was doomed to lose everyone I cared about because of it. Was it better just not to care at all?

  Tears slid down the side of my face as I squeezed my eyes shut. A sob slipped past my lips.

  “Hey, it’s okay.” The bed lurched as Zeph climbed in next to me. His body curled around mine, pulling me into that special place in the middle of his embrace. A place that was mine and mine alone. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  I hid my face against him, pulling my arms and legs in close to my body. “My dad did a lot of research about the vessels who came before me,” I whispered. “His journals said they almost always had horrible, tragic deaths. It said that even after a vessel selected the new faerie leader, people and monsters continued to hunt them down because of their power. People tortured them, trying all kinds of horrible ways to steal all of their magic.”

  Until today I hadn’t understood what that might feel like.

  “I won’t let anything like that happen to you.”

  “I’m scared, Zeph.”

  “I’m right here.” His breath stirred in my hair. He kissed my forehead, my eyes, and the end of my nose. “Go to sleep.”

  “Stay here with me.”

  He ran a thumb over my lips. “There’s nowhere else in the universe I’d rather be.”

  “We were severely outclassed,” Eldrick muttered.

  Around a small table at the back of the bistro near my school, I sat with Freddy, Camilla, and Eldrick. It was well past the bistro’s usual closing hours, but a small bribe and a little eye batting from Camilla had bought us some extra time. We had to make this count, after all. Zeph had already gone to work at the bar, and as far as he knew, Eldrick and I were just out for dinner. Nothing suspicious about that, right?

  “I find that hard to believe.” Freddy’s tone had an edge. “You were with her, weren’t you? That’s a lot of muscle for one spriggan.”

  Eldrick’s eyes smoldered and he licked the front of his teeth.

  I leaned in between them. “He’s not lying.” Now wasn’t the time for them to have a pissing contest. “It was a trap from beginning to end, and none of us could see through it. Zeph was nearly killed. I was almost eaten. Twice, actually.”

  Camilla swirled her spoon in her coffee cup before looking up. “You said he used mandrake children?”

  Eldrick seemed to relax. He nodded. “Two, to be precise. I speak not as an Unseelie, but as a fae, when I say that the amount of magic he had poured into that area was nothing short of grotesque. He disfigured an ancient tree. He turned the season on itself. It was abhorrent.”

  “A show of force?” Freddy looked surprised.

  “If not a blatant challenge. Two weeks remain until the Singing Moon is upon us, and I have taught Josie everything I can.” Eldrick gave a frustrated sigh. “I’m no scholar, and teaching spellwork is not my specialty. Whether out of stubbornness or pride—Zeph still refuses to be a part of her education.”

  “Both run rampant in his family, I’m afraid.” Camilla smirked at her husband and gave his shoulder a nudge.

  “We have been through her father’s research from cover to cover. He believed the Fibbing Gate was our only chance to be rid of Fir Darrig, and I tend to agree with him,” Eldrick continued as he fidgeted with his napkin. “The years have made Fir Darrig powerful, even beyond my own assumptions, and now he’s recruiting others to his cause. Lumi has chosen to side with him. There are likely many others who would join with h
im if for no other reason than to avoid his wrath.”

  “You think he’s planning a war?” Freddy looked pale. “Against the Seelie Court? Or humanity?”

  “If he is able to take Josie, he could easily win both,” Eldrick replied.

  I held my breath, watching the light die out in Freddy’s eyes. He bowed his head slightly. “That’s … that’s just madness.”

  “Is it? You know what he’s like as well as I do.” Camilla was swirling her coffee again. “Whatever happened all those years ago has changed him. He obviously has no regard for the old laws or the proper treatment of the earth now. Even the lowest of Unseelie rogues still have some respect for at least one of those.”

  Eldrick nodded. “He must be stopped—preferably before any of us perish because of him.”

  Wait, what? I stole a quick glance at Eldrick as he sat stiffly, scowling down into his own empty coffee cup. Was he worried about Zeph?

  “I wonder if Aneira would join our cause, since it was her handiwork Fir Darrig defiled by having his summer overrun her winter,” Freddy murmured as he rubbed his chin.

  Camilla didn’t look convinced. “She might, but if Jack already fought for her honor once, she might consider that more than enough. After all, she doesn’t have much love for humanity.”

  I turned to Freddy and Camilla hopefully. “What about the Fibbing Gate? Have you learned anything else about it? Do you know where it is? Or how we can use it?”

  They glanced at one another and then quickly looked away, shifting in their seats. Freddy cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, it seems to be a lot more complicated than I anticipated.”

  He glanced both ways before reaching under his seat to drag out the large duffel bag he’d brought along. As he unzipped it, Camilla began to explain, “Most faeries think it’s nothing more than an old story. Those who do believe it also believe that it should never be spoken of. They fear the foul monsters that lurk beyond the gate, in our old world. They worry those horrors might follow us here.”

  “The skiia,” I remembered aloud.

  Beside me, Eldrick’s hands curled into fists on the table.

  “Only a very small portion of the faeries living in the world now actually remembers them from firsthand experience. As you know, there were only five pilgrims who made the journey,” Camilla continued, her gaze softening upon Eldrick. “They did bring some of their family members and children along with them, but there were barely fifty in total. So for most of us, the skiia and the Fibbing Gate are little more than a scary bedtime story passed down from our elders.”

  The silverware rattled as Freddy dropped what looked like a big, rolled up tapestry on the table between us. “All record of the Fibbing Gate had been stricken from the whispering books. Heavy seals have been put in place so that those words could never be read again. But I did find this.” He unrolled the thick, musty smelling fabric onto the table.

  The tapestry wasn’t much bigger than a movie poster, and the colors of the threads and fabrics were faded and frayed at the seams. It depicted an arched doorway surrounded by a field of stars. A crescent moon hung over it, sending down streams of light that almost seemed to shimmer when the fabric moved.

  The door itself was made of pieces of gray, cross-shaped fabric that had been carefully placed together like a patchwork quilt. Something about that shape was familiar. I took out one of my dad’s journal and flipped through the pages, finally opening up to the one where he had sketched out a mineral called staurolite.

  It had the same shape as the pieces on the tapestry.

  “You called this a weeping stone before, didn’t you?” I held the book up so Eldrick could see. Then I pointed to the tapestry. “It’s the same shape.”

  Freddy and Camilla craned their necks to see, too.

  “She’s right,” Camilla gasped.

  Freddy frowned. “Weeping stones contain iron, which is completely resistant to all forms of faerie magic. That’s a powerful deterrent for anyone who might want to open the gate again.” He reached out, gesturing for me to pass him the journal so he could take a look. “It would almost ensure that neither side of the doorway could be breached by anyone.”

  “Unless they were human,” I added as I handed it over. “If the gate is made of iron, then it’s a safe bet faeries didn’t make it by themselves, right? They had to have humans help them.”

  Freddy’s eyes lit up suddenly. He dropped my dad’s journal and dove back into his duffel bag and took out a large, yellowed piece of paper. One edge was tattered, as though it had been ripped out of a book.

  He spread it out before me, tapping at a drawing in the center that was surrounded by faerie text—or at least, it must have been faerie text. Most of it had been scribbled out with red ink.

  “D-did you tear that out of a whispering book?” Camilla sounded horrified.

  Freddy shrugged. “Well, it’s not like I could have carried the whole book out without someone noticing. It weighed nearly two hundred pounds.”

  I scooted in closer so I could see. “What’s a whispering book?”

  “One our ancient anthologies containing all of faerie history, even from our own world,” Eldrick said.

  “Think of it like a history book,” Camilla added. “Only, it’s been enchanted to continuously record major historical events even as the occur.”

  “So, couldn’t we look there to find out what happened to make Fir Darrig do all of this? I mean, even if the parts about the Fibbing Gate have been stricken out, there must still be something about Fir Darrig’s past in there, right?” Maybe if we could, I could find some way to reason with him.

  Freddy shook his head. “I tried that. Seems I wasn’t the only one who was willing to rip a few pages out. Someone had already removed everything about him from during that time.”

  I deflated, slumping back into my chair. So much for that.

  My eyes wandered over the drawing, studying it. It depicted a very similar arched door to the one on the tapestry—a door made of little crosses, complete with a crescent moon at the top.

  As my gaze traveled down the page, I noticed a normal, human-looking woman standing beside the door with flowing, curly hair. She was dressed in a billowing gown, wearing a heart-shaped necklace around her neck.

  That wasn’t the weirdest part, though.

  She was holding hands with a strange creature—obviously some kind of faerie. It had a human upper body that looked like a young man, but its lower half was a lion—sort of like a centaur. He had two brightly colored bird wings, and a tall crown made of twigs and leaves on his head.

  There were numerous paragraphs written beneath the drawing, but they had all been blotted out with that same red ink. I couldn’t read any of it.

  “Why are the words scratched out?” I asked.

  “If you want to write something a faerie won’t be able to read, you have to use old fountain ink. Old ink contains iron, which is why it appears red. It’s simply rusted over time.” Freddy explained. “They’ve covered the words so no faerie can read them. We call it sealing them, because it can’t be reversed.”

  “These were undoubtedly sealed because someone didn’t want the location of the gate compromised.” Eldrick snorted. “Although it does seem to be made of weeping stones. That would make it impossible for any faerie to open it.”

  “Not without human help,” Camilla guessed. “You would need both to open it again.”

  Freddy nodded in agreement. “A faerie to summon it, a human to open it.”

  “So how do we find it?” I glanced back down at the picture. “This guy, the one with the crown. He was the faerie king, right? If he’s in the picture, he must know where to find it.”

  All eyes fell back to the page.

  “It would seem so,” Eldrick murmured quietly, his brow creasing. “But anyone versed in our history would know better. He has never actually worn the crown.”

  “Well, who is he? Is
he still alive? Can’t we ask him where the gate is?” I was already getting excited. This was a promising lead.

  “That would be ill advised.” Eldrick leaned back, his eyes never leaving the image.

  They all looked reluctant, even scared. “Why?”

  “Because that’s Fir Darrig,” a familiar voice growled from behind me.

  My body instantly went stiff. I turned around slowly to meet a blazing violet glare.

  Zeph shoved his hands into his coat pockets, his head turning slowly as he studied everyone sitting around the table one at a time. By the time he got back to me, I could barely breathe. My throat closed up, and I was gripping the edge of the table.

  Then he gave one, small nod, and turned around like he was going to leave.

  A wave of guilt come over me like an ocean tide.

  Freddy raced out of his seat, stepping into the path of his much more dangerous-looking brother with a desperate expression. “Zeph, please listen to me. We only want to help. We—”

  “I don’t need your help,” Zeph yelled.

  “Don’t be stubborn,” Freddy snapped back. “Time is running out for all of us, not just you.” He moved in closer, his hands curled into fists. “What will dying prove, hm?” He pointed back at me. “You’ll be gone, and she will still be vulnerable. If Fir Darrig gets his hands on her, it’ll be the end of us all. Don’t think for a moment I’m not aware of that.”

  Zeph took an aggressive step toward his little brother. “What you do suggest? Maybe I should just stick a big apple in her mouth and serve her up on a silver platter just to save my own skin?”

  “Why don’t we take this outside, boys?” Camilla suggested as she stood and gathered her coat. “You’re making a scene.”

  A few of the bistro workers were peeking out from the back kitchen to see what was going on.

  They whispered and stared at us the entire time we were packing up and making our way out the door. I was so embarrassed I wanted to melt into the floor. We managed to get three steps from the restaurant before Freddy grabbed Zeph by the arm and shoved him up against the brick storefront.