I clued back into the conversation. “Usually the preliminary meeting happens when the child is much younger,” Lizbeth was saying, “and the adults involved are the parents. But that doesn't really apply in this situation.” There was something tight to her lips, and I couldn't tell if she was angry or if she was trying to hide her sadness. Either way, she wasn't happy.
“Okay,” I said, because I wasn't sure what else I was supposed to say.
“Wren’s inside,” Theo said, nodding as she moved aside to let us in.
I followed, waiting to see when this mysterious headmistress would declare herself. It – unsurprisingly – didn't take too long.
“I'm Belle,” a tall woman said, coming out of what I assumed was the kitchen.
“You must be Lou.” She didn't sound particularly impressed. To be fair, I didn't really expect her to be impressed. Given I knew nothing about magic, I wouldn’t have been impressed meeting myself. Maybe not quite as dismissive, but not impressed.
“Hello,” I said, shifting awkwardly.
Belle was tall and blonde with broad shoulders, and dressed in a slimming pantsuit like she was running for office. Her face was stern, but she didn’t look like she was about to smite me or turn me into a frog. I glanced Lizbeth, at Wren and Theo, in case I was missing some sort of greeting etiquette. They looked completely neutral, and I wasn't sure if it was a masked sort of face, or something that just developed around the woman in front of me. She didn't seem exactly like the friendly sort.
“I understood you somehow made it to majority without knowing about your magic,” Belle said, sounding officious. It matched her tall updo, elegantly coiffed, like she should've been dressed in a formal, award-winning gown.
Turned out bosses in the magic world were just as pompous as those in the human world. From Wren’s struggle to keep a straight face, I doubted I was the only one who thought that.
“It's rare, but not unheard of,” Lizbeth said, watching the whole situation.
I stayed quiet, because really, I had no idea what was going on.
“Rare when one's mother is a witch,” Belle said irritably.
I had a feeling that she didn't really like my mother much, now or long ago. In that case, she could go do something not nice to herself. I loved my mom.
“You know Sam had different circumstances,” Lizbeth said, and there was a hint of frost in her voice, like it was an argument they'd had many times before. Given how argumentative Belle looked, I wouldn’t have been surprised to find out that was the case.
“Fine,” Belle said, nodding at Lizbeth. “You’re taking responsibility over this woman until she masters her magic.” Apparently, she wasn’t even going to use my name.
“We accept the responsibility,” Lizbeth said smoothly. “Any other restrictions you feel like placing?” There was a challenge there. Oh goody. More politics for me to learn. There hadn't been enough of those in my last job.
“No,” Belle said, after a lengthy silent deliberation. “You may use the training center.” She waved a hand at me, and that apparently was the end of the conversation. She left the room, heading back to whence she came. I glanced at Lizbeth, who shook her head when I opened my mouth. I knew that sign.
Silently, Lizbeth, Wren, and Theo led me through the house, to a room in the back that didn't open until Wren touched it, stroking her fingers over the panel almost like dialing a phone number. For all that magic had been talked about, that was my first tangible example in a while. It was yet another way of remembering that, for all it didn't feel real, the whole thing was real.
And it meant I had a duty to myself, to others, to learn what I could do and be responsible about it. I'd read way too many horror movies about somebody who had magic – of whatever type – and didn't master it, instead hurting a lot of people. Not that I really believed in horror movies, but I wasn’t going to risk it.
The door opened into a room bigger than I had expected. The house in general was bigger than it seemed from the outside, which only half surprised me. Magic could do everything.
Wren drew a symbol on the table, and then sank into a seat, her face and body language relaxing. I waited, uncertain.
“The training rooms are warded,” Wren said, catching my eye.
I knew that word, roughly. Maybe not as much in a magical sense, but I was smart, I could figure it out. “She can't hear us in here,” I guessed.
A nod.
“More importantly,” Theo said, a hard irony to her face, “she can't listen in on us in here.”
“Is she like a spy?” It felt like the movie had gone from light-hearted to a spy thriller. Were armed guards going to appear out of nowhere?
“She doesn't like our family,” Lizbeth said, shaking her head.
I glanced at them, wondering if it was something I was allowed to ask about. Worst case I would find out later.
“We beat her out for a position,” Theo said, glancing at Lizbeth. “Instead, her sister had to settle for police chief.”
“Guessing she's not really popular?” I asked, looking from one tense face to another.
“Depends who you ask,” the three said at the same time.
It was almost like they'd said it in sync, and I could see them hiding grins. “Anyway,” Lizbeth said, clapping her hands together. “That's for later.”
“Today, the goal is to make you slightly less useless.” The voice was so spot on for Lizbeth’s voice that it took me a few seconds to realize it wasn't her talking. Baffled, I looked around. If she hadn’t spoken – her mouth wasn’t open, and she looked as confused as I was – then who was it?
On a hunch, I glanced down at Mocha, who was curled up against the wall, looking as innocent as a beagle could.
“You're learning,” Mocha said with a hint of approval to her voice.
I sighed, then looked up to see the three of them smiling at me. “Sorry,” I said, somewhat embarrassed.
“Familiars,” Wren said, a faint smile on her face, like she was sharing an inside joke with the others. I wasn't sure if she was, or just assuming some shared experience, but I wasn't exactly going to be like, ‘no we’re not the same’ when I was already in a strange place, in need of all the camaraderie that I could get.
“Do yours play tricks on you too?”
“Always,” Wren said dryly.
“Only in public,” Theo added. I blinked at her. “Mine’s a horse.”
“They can be a horse?” Seemed awful big.
“We don't always get a choice,” Theo said.
Lizbeth tsked, drawing our attention back to whatever she felt like drawing our attention back to. I had no idea what sort of lessons were going to happen. “We have an agenda for the day,” she said, all teacher-y now. “We’re going to get you used to the alphabet.”
“I'm guessing it’s not the ABCs?” I asked.
Lizbeth’s smile was faint. “Wren will be your instructor. She’s in charge of private tutoring for our littles who need some extra help, and is quite familiar with the elementary instruction.”
Okay, I had to admit, that hurt the ego a little bit. I was a ‘little’. I was somebody who needed private tutoring by someone who tutored kids. Yay me.
“Could be worse,” Theo said cheerfully. I glanced at her, not certain I agreed.
Theo grinned wickedly. “The upper division students have Belle as a teacher.”
I shuddered, although whether it was in mock horror or real horror I wasn't sure. Either way, I was glad to escape that.
“Do you need anything?” Lizbeth asked, and I opened my mouth to reply before I realized she wasn't talking to me.
Wren shook her head, but her smile was kind. “Thanks, Auntie,” she said.
Lizbeth patted her on the shoulder, her smile warm. “Any time, dear,” she said.
“Will she ever teach me?” I was thinking of Belle, of her potential teaching style. I doubted it was as nice as Wren’s.
Lizbeth chuckled. “Hopefully by th
e time you get there, you won't have to have her tutoring.”
I winced at the thought. She didn't seem very patient. “I’ll see you later.” Lizbeth waved, and then disappeared out the door. After it closed behind her, its seams seemed to melt, forming one continuous wall. It was claustrophobic.
“So where do we start?” I asked, to distract myself.
“Like Lizbeth said, we’re going to start from the beginning.” She pulled out a piece of sketch paper, one that looked eerily similar to the one I'd used when I'd accidentally summoned Mocha.
“We’re going to draw?” I asked.
“Sort of,” Wren said. “Be careful how you draw.”
“Are drawings magic, or something like that?” I looked askance at the paper.
Wren shook her head, although she seemed to be stifling laughter. “It's not our drawings,” she said, “it's the runes themselves that have power.”
“Okay,” I said. “What are runes?”
Wren exchanged a glance with Theo. “For not having heard about magic until now, you seem to be handling it fairly well.”
I wanted to laugh. It was only because she couldn't see how much I was freaking out inside. “The other option is to cry,” I said. “I've never been a fan of crying.”
Wren laughed. “I'm going to show you a list of the basic runes,” she said.
“Wait, I thought this was like an alphabet.” Basic and complicated didn’t sound like an alphabet.
“It's complicated sort of alphabet,” she said cheerily, like she'd had this conversation a million times. With my luck, she probably had. “There's a lot of different symbols, and they can all mean different things. What's most important is getting you familiarized with the basics at the moment.”
“Okay,” I said.
She handed me a laminated paper, with symbols all over it. I smoothed my fingers over them, curious.
“The lamination mutes their power,” Wren said.
“So just memorizing bits of paper for now?” I asked.
“It’s not very interesting,” Wren said apologetically. “But it is the best place to start.”
“As long as I get to storm the castle eventually,” I said. That got me a blank look. “We’re going to have to have a movie night.”
Wren chuckled. Theo looked amused, even though she didn’t smile. “You'll get there,” Wren said, her voice confident.
I took the sheet from her and let out a long sigh. Taking a sketchpad and a pencil, I started tracing the symbols, awkwardly at first, and then with growing confidence.
“What was your mom like?” Wren asked, drawing my attention.
“You never met her?” I always liked to double-check, and with half of my attention on what I was doing, I wasn’t sure what I’d missed.
Wren shook her head. “She left,” she said, almost regretful. “We never got to meet her, even when we were kids.”
“My mom,” I said, and then I paused, before saying, “she was awesome. She wasn't perfect, because no parent is perfect. But she’d done her best.” That was what mattered to me.
Wren smiled. “I like that about my mom too,” she said.
I glanced at her, surprised. “Your mom?”
“Ella,” Wren confirmed. “She’s a bit strange sometimes, but she is good at heart.”
“That sums up a lot of people,” I said.
“Including some people you'd rather it didn't,” she said wryly.
“Pretty much,” I agreed. I turned my attention back to the paper, shifting in the chair and frowning at some of the symbols. “This looks familiar,” I said, looking at what looked almost like a double-reed pen, and then another that looked like it was a name tag.
“From your house?” Wren asked curiously.
I shook my head, looking closer. They almost looked – “They look like they’re from my history lessons,” I said, surprised.
“Oh,“ Wren said. “You had a good history class, then.”
“Who stole from who?” I asked, curious. Hieroglyphics. That was what they looked like.
“It's a bit more complicated than that,” Theo said, interrupting. Wren nodded, apparently leaving the explanation to her. “Our magic is based in Kemet, which is the ancient Egyptian word for Egypt.”
“Like old-school Pharaoh type ancient Egypt?” I asked skeptically.
She nodded, and if it wasn't for the dead seriousness on her face, I would've asked her if she was joking. Yeah – Mom never mentioned that.
‘So, we’re Egyptian?” I glanced down at my pale-ish skin, not entirely convinced.
“Some of us,” Wren said, glancing at Theo, whose red hair was definitely not Egyptian. “But it’s the energy source we draw from. We’re either descended from the Egyptians themselves, or from those who could use their energy.”
“Huh.” I stared at the two of them, processing the information.
“In order to access the energy, we use runes that let us call to it.” Wren tapped her finger on a couple of the marks. “Either by writing or by tracing them.”
“I know it sounds crazy,” Theo said. “But you’ll get there.”
I was silent for longer than I intended before I smiled at her, although I didn’t feel it. “I hope so.”
Sometimes it felt like I never would.
Chapter Nine
I ran a hand through my hair, trying not to take the time to think about everything that had happened over the past few days. It had been almost an hour and I had just now finished copying the symbols to Wren’s satisfaction. Every time I blinked they swam in front of my eyes. I had no idea how I’d managed to do enough magic to summon Mocha. I couldn't even do magic on purpose.
“You'll get there,” Wren said, and she sounded reassuring. Maybe she even meant it.
There was a knock on the door and Wren lifted her head with a frown. “Nobody should be able to get in here,” she said, something in her voice I didn't like.
She held a finger up at me to stop me from moving and headed to the door. It took a few seconds, but then she sketched a few symbols on the door and opened it. “What are you doing here?” Wren said, before she moved back enough for me to establish that it was Ethan at the door.
“Kerrity wants to talk to her,” he said, his jaw tight.
Wren looked apprehensive now. “Why?”
Ethan sighed. “She had a motive,” he said, even though he didn't sound pleased about it. “And she's associated with us.”
Whatever it was, it didn’t sound good. “Anybody feel like filling me in?”
This time Wren was the one who winced. “Sorry,” she said, and she sounded like she meant it. “Kerrity is the police chief.”
“I take it she doesn't like Ethan very much?”
“She doesn't like our entire family,” Ethan said, and he sounded unenthusiastic.
“Great.” That seemed to be a trend. I couldn’t entirely understand why. Then again, I was aware I hadn’t been here long. I didn’t know the whole story. Maybe it was valid.
“She's insisting?” Wren asked.
“She is threatening to call it obstruction.” Ethan's lips were tight. “You know how she likes any excuse to go to the Mayor.”
“She sounds more like a teenager than she does the department chief,” I said.
Ethan’s smile was crooked. “Welcome to departmental politics.”
“So glad to know it’s this way in the magic world, too,” I quipped.
“You can find politics anywhere,” Wren said ruefully, like she was speaking from experience. “Magic or no.”
“You'd better get going,” Theo said, glancing at me. “Kerrity's not a patient woman.”
I stood, stretching my arms above my head in an attempt to work the kinks out of my back. I glanced back towards the main room, where I'd met Belle. “Is anybody patient here?” I asked. I wasn't sure if it was a joke.
“We have our moments,” Wren said, and she sounded cheerful enough that I didn't want to ask her if she was joki
ng. Sometimes it was better not to know the truth.
“I’ll be at the house when you get back.” Mocha’s voice caught me off guard, but I looked down at her, wishing she would come with. “You’ll be fine,” she reassured me.
I honestly doubted it would be that simple, but I followed Ethan out of the small room, heading out of the house. I stopped once the door closed behind me. “I don’t have my car.”
“I'll take you,” Ethan said. He looked half resigned, half apologetic. “I can drop you off at home when you're done.”
I stopped halfway in the car, giving him a searching look. “This is serious, isn't it?”
He glanced back at the house, where Wren and Theo were still inside. He seemed more willing to speak honestly when they weren’t around, but this he had to think about. “It has the potential to be,” he said finally. He wasn't looking at me.
“Great,” I said, and I definitely didn't mean it. “What's the chance I could just leave town and never come back?” I asked, only partially sarcastic.
The look Ethan gave me was surprised, but it morphed away as he realized I was being sarcastic. I hoped I was being sarcastic, anyway.
“I wouldn’t want to see you try,” he said, mostly pleasantly.
I couldn’t tell if he was torn between duty and obligation, or his initial gut feeling that I was innocent. I was making a lot of assumptions with that, probably foolishly. Did he seriously think I was a suspect?
I got buckled in the car, my mind working a mile a minute. “Do you know Miles?” I asked, figuring I could hit two birds with one stone.
“Why do you ask?” That seemed to catch Ethan's attention, even as he turned the car on and pulled away from the curb.
“He dropped by this morning.” I paused. “With his daughter.”
Ethan sighed, exasperated. “Did she escape again?”
“You say that like she's escaping from a mental asylum.” Although, to be fair, for all I knew, that was the case. I didn't know anything about the situation, so I couldn't judge one way or another.
“He was injured on the line of duty,” Ethan said. “Now he lives and works here and consults with us when we need it.”
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