“You talk to animals?” I asked blankly.
Mocha just looked at me. “You can't?”
“Not part of my skill set, no,” I said.
Mocha made a dubious noise. “Humans,” she said with a shake of her head. Another pause. “Ethan's coming,” she said.
I wasn't sure what I tensed myself for, if anything. I had a feeling whatever it was, it wouldn't be good. Ethan’s red hair was easy to spot, and with a jerk of his head, he led Lizbeth, Mocha, and me over to a small nook that was out of sight of the people starting to file out.
“She's claiming everything is fraudulent,” he said with a weary sigh.
“I didn't do anything,” I said, my voice as firm as I could make it.
He was shaking his head before I could even finish. “I know,” he said. There was a tired smile on his face. “Besides, even if I wanted to suspect you, you haven't been in town long enough – or had the right access – to the building or the lawyer to pull something off like that.”
Well, I was going to take that as a compliment, as I was fairly certain it was. Somehow.
“Just when I thought things couldn't get worse,” I said darkly. I wasn’t mad, I was – shattered, probably. I missed my mother, I missed my life. I felt weak and I hated it.
Lizbeth wrapped an arm around me, and I let myself lean into it, my feelings all jumbled up. Ethan looked on, almost helpless.
“We'll get it sorted out,” he said firmly.
“That's what you said last time,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant instead of worried. I mean, I wasn't completely worried. I was a little bit. I wasn't sure if I was more worried the will was true, or more worried it was fake. Because if somebody had doctored the will, that somebody was doing a very good job of framing me for murder.
What I didn’t appreciate, by the way, for anybody who was listening.
If it was real, then that caused its own questions to arise. Why would Mildred have left the coffee shop to my mother?
“Go get some rest,” Ethan advised. He glanced back at the inside, the skepticism and worry in his face not reassuring me. “I’ll keep you posted on any updates.”
I glanced at Lizbeth, and she turned to look at Wren and Theo, who were leaving the building. “Walk her home, will you?” Lizbeth asked.
I shook my head before they could answer. “I’ll go on my own,” I said.
Ethan frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I’ll have Mocha with me.” I nodded to her. “I just. I need some time to think.”
Ethan still didn’t look convinced, but Lizbeth put a hand on his shoulder and Ethan’s expression gentled. “Text us when you get home,” he said instead. “So we know you made it.”
I saluted him with two fingers tapped to my forehead, earning myself a weird look.
“If there is someone out there trying to frame you for murder, you don’t know what else they could do,” Ethan added reasonably. “So be careful.”
“I will,” I promised. I even meant it, too. I just needed some time to myself.
I stood outside the coffeeshop, safely home. I hadn’t gone inside, but it still counted, right?
“I’m not going to stop you,” Mocha said, far more of an enabler than she should have been. “I can’t tell anyone anything.”
“I wonder who made that a thing.” I stopped mid-plotting to look at Mocha, to think about the fact only we could talk to our familiars. While I was guessing that ensured a strong bond, it led to some problems.
“It's just a peek,” I reasoned with myself, turning my attention back to the coffee shop. Cupping my hands, I peered inside, trying to guess where the stairs to the living area were. If Mildred had assumed I had gotten upstairs from there, they had to exist. But it was hard to tell.
Marking a couple doors in my mind, I headed to the back gate and then up the stairwell. At one point, the coffee shop owner must have owned the apartment, because it didn't make sense otherwise. When had they gotten separated and why? Ethan had made a point of reminding Mildred that the apartment wasn’t hers. Why had my mother ended up with it?
It took a minute of poking and prodding at doors and trying to see things in my mind before I picked a door. “This one,” I said out loud, mostly to make the air feel less empty. Mocha was dozing now, leaning up against my apartment door and leaving the human to do whatever crazy thing she felt like doing.
As quietly as I could, I tried to find a lock. It wasn't that I was worried about getting caught, although that was part of it. I had a feeling Ethan wouldn't take it very kindly if I was caught snooping, nor would it do much to improve my innocent image.
Still, it wasn't like I could end up in worse circumstances, right? Too bad there wasn’t any wood to knock on.
The door seemed to be locked, and I poked at it with frustration, trying to figure out exactly how to get it to open. Mildred was magic, and the downstairs door was magic, but apparently that was a very simple magic. I had just opened the door, and the downstairs magic had activated. This? This door was like it was cemented shut and not going anywhere.
Mentally I ticked over the runes I had studied under Wren, searching through anything and everything to find a clue that would help me.
“Right,” I said to myself. I closed my eyes, mimicking what I'd seen other magical people do in movies. It was cheesy, and it looked weird, but all I wanted to do was try and remember which symbols I was taught that could, potentially, have to do with unlocking a door.
One looked like a door, the other like a key. Obvious, right? Holding them in my mind, I reached out and put my hand on the door. It was like there was the music in the background, gradually building to what would be a fabulous crescendo. My skin felt electric, alive. I reached out, tried to push open the door, and it didn't move.
I fought back a grin at myself, because really, what was I thinking.
“That's not how you do it,” a voice said from behind me, the amusement a counterpoint to my surprise.
I spun, just grateful that it wasn't Kerrity. “I was just –”
Addie dispelled my words with a shake of her head, her eyes kind. “You don't have to explain yourself to me.”
After everything that had happened in the town, I was kind of suspicious. “Why not?”
She smiled but didn’t answer. “They've been distracted,” she said, disapproval clear on her face and in her tone. “You haven't been getting the training you deserve.”
“They’ve been busy,” I said loyally, although whether or not I agreed was a whole different issue. “The murder really has them thrown for a loop.”
“Not the murder,” Addie said, her smile secretive. “You.”
I held up my hand, pausing her. “This is getting way too close to some fairytale stuff,” I said frankly. “What would me appearing have to do with anything?”
“Your mother never spoke of her time here?” Addie asked, looking troubled.
The piercing nature of her eyes was kind of creepy, but at the same time, there was a warmth to her gaze, something that made it comforting instead of frightening.
“She didn't,” I said, trying not to show some of the bitterness I felt about the decision. Maybe she never intended for me to find out about my magic. I didn't want to second-guess her, because I loved her, and I respected what she did and who she had been. True, it sort of sucked in the circumstances, but I doubted Mom could've predicted what would have happened or where I would end up.
Then again, she had left me the apartment. Maybe me finding out after she had passed had been her game plan all along? It was unsettling, thinking about that.
“Which door is yours?” Addie watched me intently.
I blinked, a bit baffled, but I pointed. “Third door to the left.”
She was quiet, then nodded once. “I see.”
I moved towards the door but stopped with my hand on the doorknob, curiosity keeping me from moving forward. “You didn't know that?” I asked.
“Not everything can be seen,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Or anything, in my case.”
“You’re blind?” Maybe I was getting fanciful, but that was what it sounded like.
“Words,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I see just fine.”
Dumbfounded, I stayed where I was. She was heading my way, graceful and poised, like nothing was wrong.
“I do believe you need a history lesson,” Addie said, a mixture of resigned and amused.
I flushed. She had more things to do than to attend my curiosities. Although – I was curious to see what she was going to tell me. I watched as she touched the leather strap across her chest, with several pouches. I could see the wide bottoms of the bells poking out, although apparently their tongues were silenced. “I was mostly wondering what –”
“The bells are for,” Addie finished for me, her eyes kind. “They're my way of accessing the runes. When you've lived as long as I have, things don't work the way they used to.” There was no invitation to ask questions. That was a final statement.
I nodded, respecting that. I wouldn’t pry.
Chapter Thirteen
“Trying to get into the coffee shop, were you?” Addie asked, a knowing look in her eyes. She glanced at the door I was poking at.
“I wanted to see what it was like,” I admitted. “Did you hear about what happened this morning?”
“Of course.” Blind or not, Addie managed to give me quite a skeptical expression. “I hear everything.” She hummed, the musical sound echoing around the upstairs hallway. “That wasn't your only motivation, I think.”
“You sound like Yoda,” I said nervously.
“Do I?” she asked, sounding distracted. Then she winked at me. “Or does Yoda sound like me?”
Deciding that was a conundrum I didn't feel like answering at the moment, and I let go of my front door, not sure where we were going to go. She took a set of keys out and handed them to me.
“So we’re not going to the coffee shop?” I asked, feeling somewhat lame.
“Would you like to learn the magic to your new apartment, or not?” Her head tilted to the side. “The coffee shop will still be there.”
I sat down and shut up, at least metaphorically. “Thank you,” I said.
“The runes are controlled through several mechanisms,” she said, stroking her fingers across the smooth surface of the door. “They can't be seen unless you know what you're looking for, which helps keep foreigners from finding our magic.”
“Foreigners?” I asked, suddenly thinking of Harry Potter and all those other wizarding places.
“Humans and the like,” Addie said. The energy in the air sizzled under my skin, making me feel antsy. A small blue patch on the door flared up. “There we go,” she said, sounding pleased.
It was a square, probably two by two inches, with dimly lit runes on it.
“That's the key,” she said, sounding satisfied. “It hadn't been used in a while.” There was something thoughtful to her voice, but wicked, too.
“So how do you use it?” I asked.
Addie looked at me, as if she was considering having me learn the hard way. While that would've been infinitely amusing for her, I had a feeling we would have been there for a long time.
“Study the runes and then fix them in your mind,” she said. “Pass your hand over them.”
There were four runes. The lock, something that looked like a scroll, another one that looked like a door, and one I thought was a pen but was apparently a variation of key. I did as she told me to, feeling kind of silly. But the door clicked open, swinging open as if I’d used the knob.
Okay, I had to admit that was pretty cool. Not only was I easily entertained, but I was starting to do real magic things.
“That’s awesome,” I said, my voice awestruck.
“Your entire apartment is built up for magic users,” Addie said. There was something disapproving to her tone, although it didn’t sound directed at me. Instead it sounded like whomever had made that choice had earned her disapproval. “It's a question of the rune and intent.”
I pointed towards the bathroom, dying to know. “Even the toilet?”
“Everything,” she said, eyes crinkling in amusement. “Everything means everything.”
“That simple?” I asked doubtfully.
“The greatest crime was teaching people that magic was complex,” Addie said, and again there was that bitter tone. I wasn't sure what had happened, or who had done something to her, but she definitely seemed to hold a grudge.
“Test them out,” she said, pointing towards the kitchen. “Once those are done, we’ll head down to that coffee shop you are interested in.”
“The coffee shop?” I tried to sound innocent, but I didn't try very hard.
“I have access to the building,” Addie said. “You won't be questioned with me.”
I personally thought that might not work as well as she hoped, given the whole murder thing, but I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in its mouth. I smiled, letting myself be quiet and be grateful. “Thank you,” I said instead.
Addie’s eyes on me were shrewd. “It will be yours eventually.”
I stared at her for a long moment, trying to figure out why she sounded so certain. I didn’t know much about the extent of magic, or the things people could do without runes. “Can you see the future?”
“Not quite.” She seemed surprised by the question. “Although there are some that can, it's a very rare gift among our kind.”
That made a lot more sense, or as much sense as magic could make in the first place.
“Do you cook?” Addie asked, catching me off guard with the change of topic.
“I attended culinary school for a couple semesters. I’m not bad.” It was something I prided myself in, being able to make stuff that tasted good to Mom even in the end stages.
“Let's go downstairs,” Addie said, as if what she was doing was the most natural thing in the world.
“Okay,” I said amicably. I followed, leaving my apartment and heading towards the stairs Addie had identified as leading to the coffee shop.
We stopped in front of them, and I turned to look at Addie. “Now what?”
“You tell me.” Her eyes were calm, and I still wasn't entirely certain I believed her claim of being blind. Then again, maybe it was like the Jedi and she could feel things with the force. She had made that Yoda joke.
I turned to the door, mimicking what I'd seen her do and running my fingertips over the smooth wood. It felt cool to the touch, surprisingly so. Was that a clue? Or was it something design related that I needed to ignore?
I had instincts for a reason, although I wasn't entirely sure I trusted them. Sticking with them, I did a second inspection, going over the frame inch by inch. It took me a few seconds, but I found the faint indent, the hint of texture that signified the hidden lock panel.
“Very good,” Addie said approvingly. “I won't have you unlock it.”
I lifted my head to look at her. I would do whatever she said, but I had to admit I was a little disappointed.
Addie laughed. “It's much too advanced for you at this stage,” she said. “We'd be here forever.”
I filed that thought away, the note that there were varying levels of security systems, varying complexities. It seemed magic was as diverse as the real world. Although this was the real world, now that I thought about it.
“After you,” she said, nodding to the door.
“Do you need help?” I asked, thinking about the whole blindness thing. I doubted it, given she was fine with everything else, but it was only polite to offer.
“No, but thank you.” Her smile was polite and mysterious, something I didn’t realize could exist at the same time.
“Okay,” I said. The door swung open and I headed down the steps. They were oddly quiet and eerie, sending shivers down my spine. But in a good way. Sort of.
“Is it supposed to be this –” I
paused, because when I looked back, I couldn't see Addie at all. I couldn't even see a sliver of light from where the door had been. It was like it had shut behind me and I had hit the point of no return. The shivers went from mild to creepy crawly, and my stomach lodged itself in my throat.
“I’m going to die here,” I lamented. All alone and abandoned.
“No,” came Addie's amused voice from in front of me. “You're just dealing with the trickery that is stairs.”
I made a dubious expression, because I was aware of stairs in the human world, and they weren’t quite that complicated.
“Have you watched Harry Potter?” she asked.
“I read the first couple books,” I offered, aware that among my college friends it had basically been sacrilege.
“How fortuitous.”
“Did you take a class on sounding like a fortune cookie?” I asked.
Addie started to speak but I beat her to it. “Do I borrow from fortune cookies, or do fortune cookies borrow from me?” I recited.
Her smile was wide and toothy. “You're learning.”
I smiled, even though my attention was focused on navigating forward. I could see a hint of light growing larger, until all of a sudden. I could see her fully now, sitting at one of the tables.
“Take a look around,” Addie said.
I had to admit I did, with the brash delight of a kid doing something they were told not to. I had a feeling Ethan wouldn't really approve, but that also was one of my lesser worries at the time.
I spun slowly in a circle, noting that the coffee shop was bigger on the inside. It seemed to be a theme in Elder. Next I walked around, identifying the work area, the small kitchen in the back. It was a small, sturdy place, someplace I would've worked in college, saving money for tuition.
“It's nice,” I said, surprising myself with how warm my voice was. How nostalgic I sounded.
“And?” Addie prompted.
I had no idea what she was going for. “Very nice?” I hazarded.
She rolled her eyes. “You look but do not see,” she said.
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