Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus Identity

by Lydia Sherrer

  “I...I wish we could, but...it’s so dangerous,” Mrs. Singer said, brows scrunching together as she glanced back and forth between Sebastian and Jamie.

  “Mom—” Jamie tried to speak, but Sebastian warned him off with a gesture.

  “Mrs. Singer, I understand how afraid you are,” Sebastian continued in a low voice, focusing on the mother of the woman he loved. “Me? I’m so terrified for Lily that whenever I think about her it feels like I can’t breathe. I can’t imagine how hard it would be for you to have not one, but two of your children in harm’s way. But life is full of danger, and it will find each of us, one way or another.” As Sebastian spoke, glistening tears pooled at the corners of Mrs. Singer’s eyes—eyes that were full of knowing and sorrow. “I know you tried to keep Lily away from magic for a long time, to protect her. And it worked, at least for a while. But times have changed, and the best way to protect Jamie is to teach him both how to fight and how to be a responsible part of a team. At least then he’ll have a chance when things...well, when danger comes knocking on your door.”

  For a long moment, Mrs. Singer held his gaze, and his heart broke to see the fear in her eyes. He knew what it was like to lose the people you loved most, and he would never forgive himself if Jamie got hurt because of this. But he’d known the look in Jamie’s eyes too: if the adults didn’t take him seriously, the idiot kid would go off on his own and do something reckless.

  Finally, Mrs. Singer raised a hand to wipe her eyes, then nodded.

  “Yes!” Jamie crowed.

  “Only if Ethel agrees,” Mrs. Singer said with a quelling look at her son.

  All eyes turned to Aunt B, who met Sebastian’s gaze, then dropped her gaze to contemplate the table in silence. After several moments had passed, she raised her head and pinned Jamie with a hard stare. “Responsibility is given where it has been earned. I agree that you have earned the right to sit at the table, but anything more will depend upon your actions henceforth. Comport yourself in a respectful, responsible manner, and you will be treated in kind. Tell the truth, and the truth will be told to you. Obey orders, and one day you will earn the right to give them. Now, before we proceed, is there anything you would like to tell me?”

  The sudden silence was broken only by Jamie’s audible gulp. Sebastian hid his smile. Aunt B was more clever and fair than he’d given her credit for. He supposed all their butting heads over the years hadn’t gone completely to waste.

  “Uhhh, is there?” Jamie finally asked, his voice rather squeaky.

  Aunt B did not reply, only raised one spider-thin brow.

  Jamie ducked his head and began to trace random patterns on the table with one finger. “I, um, might possibly be practicing spells at night.”

  “Jamie! What have I told you about casting magic unsupervised?” his mother said, looking like she was about to dig in for a good tongue-lashing.

  “Peace, Freda. He shall do penance for his misdeeds in due time,” Aunt B said. Sebastian could have sworn he saw a hint of a smile in the crinkling around her eyes. She’d already known. “Is there anything else, Mr. Singer?”

  “Ummm, I—I might have—just maybe…” the teenager trailed off, his mumble becoming inaudible.

  “Sit up straight, look me in the eye, and speak clearly, Mr. Singer.” The steel in Aunt B’s voice made Jamie snap upright.

  “I might have, um, borrowed a book from your office.”

  “Jamie!” Mrs. Singer gasped.

  Aunt B did not speak, only held Jamie’s gaze until the boy was quivering in his chair.

  “We will discuss a suitable punishment after the matter before us has been resolved,” the elderly wizard said, finally relenting. “For now, you will return the book as soon as you leave this table. After that, you and I will adjourn to my office where you will demonstrate a perfectly executed containment circle and the accompanying safety wards we have taught you. If I am satisfied, I will give you a list of spells that are appropriate to practice on your own. Should you deviate from that list, your privileges will be revoked.”

  “Y-yes, ma’am,” Jamie said and nodded vigorously.

  The old woman held his gaze for a moment more, then turned to Mallory and gave her a nod. “Please, proceed.”

  Sebastian could have sworn he saw Mallory roll her eyes, obviously unimpressed by all the drama, but perhaps he’d just imagined it.

  “Based on financial transactions under John Faust’s alias,” she began again, “I’ve traced his probable location to a facility in Kentucky called Louisville Mega Space—or, as it is more commonly known in the area, Louisville Mega Cavern.” Mallory paused to grip the edge of the map Sir Kipling was using as a rug, then she extracted it from under him in one swift pull, dumping the feline on his back in the process. He glared at her before rolling to his feet and slinking over to Mrs. Singer for sympathy scratches. Unsurprisingly, Mallory ignored him and continued her briefing, using the map to show the location in question. “It’s a huge underground compound that began as a limestone quarry in the nineteen thirties and was converted into a storage facility in the nineties. It has multiple warehouses inside it, most of which are leased out to various companies for storing anything from documents and equipment to consumable goods, vehicles, and boats. More recently, they’ve added a few tourist attractions in another section of the mine, including a historic tram tour and a light show, and they’re currently constructing the world’s first underground zipline.” Mallory’s mouth twisted down, as if she couldn’t quite conceptualize the idea of a zipline in a mine—or maybe she was just having trouble with the whole idea of “fun” in general. It sounded grand to Sebastian, and he had a sudden image of Lily and himself zipping along in a massive tunnel full of shadowy rock formations. Of course, Lily probably wouldn’t be caught dead on a zipline, but maybe he could bribe her with copious amounts of dark chocolate—

  “According to the charges in his financial records,” Mallory said, her voice dispelling Sebastian’s daydream, “John Faust has been renting one of these underground warehouses for quite some time, possibly to store magical items, and maybe even as a backup safehouse. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has been holed up there ever since he disappeared last September. The facility offers commercial leasing, and it also provides indoor plumbing and internet connection to most of their units. The facility is accessible and secure twenty-four hours a day. I won’t know more about their security system until we arrive and I can examine the area, but I’m sure they have everything under video surveillance.”

  Mallory paused and looked around, as if checking for questions.

  “He’s hiding in a cave?” Jamie said. “That is so cool!”

  Sebastian shot him a repressive look, which Jamie completely missed because his attention was fixed on Mallory. The boy’s eyes were wide and gleaming with something that looked suspiciously like hero-worship. Sebastian sighed.

  “That might explain our difficulty in locating him these past months,” Aunt B said. “I have contacts throughout the United States who have been searching for any hint of his magical signature. Yet if he has remained underground, he could conduct his experiments at will and remain hidden from all but the most meticulous of searches. Is there any indication whether or not he is alone?”

  Mallory tilted her head, as if thinking. “Based on his credit card purchase history, I would guess his operation is larger than just himself.”

  “I’m sure Morgan is with him,” Sebastian said. “She’s a fifteen-hundred-year-old wizard with no ID, no money, and no knowledge of the modern world. Where else would she go?”

  “That is a logical conclusion,” Aunt B agreed. “It would be safest to assume LeFay has other conspirators as well. We do not know for certain that Mr. Darthe and his witches are working for LeFay, but where we find one, I highly suspect we will find the other.”

  “Right,” Sebastian said when no one else spoke up, “Mallory and I are leaving as soon as we break up this little meeting. We’ll drive
up to Kentucky and do some nosing around to figure out where in this Mega Cavern Mr. Fancypants is hiding. Are you…” He winced and trailed off. He’d been about to ask if his aunt was feeling well enough to travel. One look at her and the answer was obvious: No. It was almost startling how much she had aged in the past few months, as if the stolen time her magical genes had given her was now trying to catch up. Something hard and painful tightened around his heart, but he ignored it and cleared his throat.

  “I know you need rest, Aunt B, but I don’t like our odds—me and Mallory going up against John Faust and probably Morgan by ourselves. Now, if they aren’t expecting us to catch up to them so soon, there’s a fair chance we can surprise them, grab Lily, and make a quick getaway. But that’s assuming nothing at all goes wrong, and it’ll still leave Fancypants and his clutch of snakes free to cause more mischief.”

  Aunt B nodded gravely. “It would. However, you are not as alone as you might fear. We have allies, Freda and I,” she said, turning to give Mrs. Singer a significant look.

  The words were a statement, but his aunt’s tone made it sound more like a question. There was a pause as a storm of emotion flashed across Mrs. Singer’s face, but it was gone almost as soon as it had come. She took in a fortifying breath, then gave a resolute nod. “Yes. It’s time,” she said, as if finishing a conversation she and Aunt B had begun earlier.

  “All that remains to be seen,” his aunt continued smoothly, “is who can answer our call on such short notice. We will gather what help we can and follow in all haste. You and Mallory, however, should leave now. LeFay is not so foolish as to think he will remain hidden for long, not after he has taken one of our own, so he will surely have warnings and wards in place. You will be at a disadvantage without a wizard with you to detect magic, so I have created these.” She pulled out two quarter-sized clay pendants and slid them across the table toward Sebastian and Mallory. “They have been enchanted with a very simple spell that causes the charm to grow cold in the presence of magic. Now, I expect them to be returned after this business is through—distributing magical objects to mundanes has always been frowned upon, and for good reason. But, considering the amount of trouble you attract, nephew, I have resigned myself to bending the rules for the time being.”

  Sebastian reached out to pick one up, then sucked in a breath as his fingers touched the frigid piece of clay.

  “As you might imagine, they are rather cold at the moment, considering the number of wards we have added to this house of late. They will warm once you leave, though they will maintain a slight coolness as long as they are in proximity to the ward charms I have already given you. Sebastian, your rings will affect them as well, but you will still notice a sharp difference should you stray into the path of any larger spells—the stronger the magic, the stronger the reaction.”

  “Will they be fooled by glamour or masking spells?” Mallory asked, and Sebastian shot her a curious look. He wondered how much her father had taught her about the mechanics of magic and how much she had simply picked up on her own.

  “That depends upon the spell. Glamour works against our mundane senses, while masking spells work against our magical ones. A spell designed to hide magic will conceal it from a wizard as well as from this charm.”

  Mallory nodded, obviously satisfied with the explanation.

  “Now, your final and most valuable asset will, of course, be Sir Kipling.”

  Pricking his ears up at the mention of his name, the feline rolled to his feet, abandoning his languid pose where he’d been enjoying Mrs. Singer’s expert belly rubs. He gave an impressively wide yawn—more to show off his mouth full of long white teeth, Sebastian suspected, than because he was actually tired—then sauntered over to the middle of the table.

  “I have spent the last two days developing a spell to help Sir Kipling communicate with us unfortunate souls not blessed with Lily’s understanding. The inspiration behind it came from an old friend, though I doubt I will ever have a chance to thank him for it. We have tested it, and so far it seems to work, though I am unsure how long the spell will last before I will need to recast it. It is quite complex, and there was no time to add more aluminum fittings to the collar in which to carve permanent anchor runes. In any case, it should serve our purposes for at least the next few days. Sir Kipling, if you would be so kind as to demonstrate.”

  Slowly, one at a time, letters shaped from golden, glittering light began to materialize above Sir Kipling’s head, floating there like some bizarre speech bubble.

  GREETINGS, EARTHLINGS.

  Sebastian barked a laugh. “You’ve been watching Lily’s television, haven’t you, you little sneak?”

  THAT IS MIEZEKATZE TO YOU, WITCH. OTHERWISE YOU WILL USE MY PROPER NAME.

  “Jeeze, somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” Sebastian said as Jamie sniggered and Mrs. Singer hid a smile. “What does meezeekats even mean?”

  His aunt gave a dry smile. “I believe the correct pronunciation is ‘meet-zhe-cat-zhe,’ and it is the German word for pussycat.”

  “Oh, so now he reads, writes, and speaks German? Just you wait, one of these days he’s gonna grow opposable thumbs, and then we’ll really be in trouble.”

  FEAR NOT, HUMAN. I AM A MAGNANIMOUS RULER.

  “Oh, yeah, right. That makes everything better,” Sebastian grumbled, but then his aunt cleared her throat in a quelling sort of way and he fell silent.

  “Let us not lose focus. While this spell enables Sir Kipling to inform you of anything suspicious he may find, it will be of little use when stealth is needed or you are not in sight of him. LeFay will surely be prepared for discovery. He knows we will be looking for Lily, and will have contingencies prepared should we discover his location.”

  Mallory nodded. “I’m familiar with his methods. We’ll manage until you get there.”

  The look on Aunt B’s face said she very much doubted that, but she let the topic drop, turning instead to Sebastian. “Keep us informed via the porthole. I hope that we will be no more than a day behind you.”

  “Got it,” Sebastian said, shoving his chair back and standing. “We’re off. Jamie, wanna give me a hand carrying stuff to the car?”

  “Yeah!”

  Mallory shot Sebastian a look, but did not object when he led the teenager out of the dining room. As they left, he heard Mrs. Singer speaking, and he paused outside the doorway to eavesdrop.

  “We’re so grateful for your help rescuing Lily. I knew you would want to help, the same way Lily helped you.”

  A derisive snort almost escaped him, but he managed to smother it as Jamie looked on in confusion. Sebastian wondered what Mrs. Singer would think if she knew how much Mallory was charging for her “help.” But he pushed the thought away and focused back on Mrs. Singer’s voice.

  “When you disappeared so suddenly before, I was worried about you, dear. It’s good to have you back. How are you? Have you settled in alright? Did you have any trouble finding furniture and such to outfit your new...well wherever you’re living?”

  This time Sebastian couldn’t hold back his grin when he imagined the pained look on Mallory’s face. Mrs. Singer in full-blown mothering mode was a lot for even a well-adjusted adult to handle, so Miss I’ve-got-the-emotional-range-of-a-teaspoon didn’t stand a chance.

  Before Mallory could try to make a quick exit and end up discovering them lurking outside the doorway, Sebastian grabbed Jamie’s arm and towed him down the hall. The sooner they could shift all their bags into the Buick, the sooner they could get going to Kentucky.

  ***

  Of course, it wasn’t quite that easy.

  First, Mallory needed to go by her place to grab some equipment. Sebastian was extremely interested to know where she lived, but kept his mouth shut lest she decide his curiosity was good enough reason to kick him to the curb and go get her things by herself. Apparently she trusted him enough—or was just resigned enough to his annoying presence—to let him accompany he
r, and he didn’t want to give her a reason to change her mind.

  Mallory, as it turned out, lived in an old cotton mill.

  It was the latest and greatest thing in Atlanta—and many large cities, no doubt—to renovate old factories and other industrial buildings into apartments. Not only did it make good use of resources, but there was a certain draw to living in a reclaimed building with historic significance. The apartment managers certainly milked it for all it was worth.

  This particular complex sat right in the center of Cabbagetown overlooking the MARTA line. The community was very “artsy” and “hip,” and close enough to the central hub of Atlanta that rent was no doubt on the higher end of things—though not as high as Midtown, Ansley Park, and the other ritzy neighborhoods north of downtown. It was a gated community, which wasn’t terribly uncommon in Atlanta, but had probably been on Mallory’s list of “must-haves” when she’d gone apartment shopping.

  Much to Sebastian’s disappointment, after he parked Mallory gave him an emotionless, though still quite threatening, directive to stay where he was, saying she would be back in a few minutes. If they hadn’t been in such a hurry—and if Sebastian didn’t genuinely believe Mallory would permanently harm him if she caught him following her—he would have slipped off after her. But since they were in a hurry, and he didn’t want to add any more injuries to his account, he twisted around to talk Sir Kipling into following her instead—

  And found the backseat empty.

  “You sneaky little scoundrel,” Sebastian said with a grin. He craned his neck and caught sight of a gray shadow slipping beneath the row of cars that ran parallel to Mallory’s trajectory. Well, that was fine, then. He would just grill Sir Kipling as soon as they were alone. That was assuming, of course, that Mallory didn’t catch the feline in the act. In which case, Sebastian wasn’t sure which one of them he’d bet on surviving the encounter. Sir Kipling had wickedly sharp claws and speed on his side, but Mallory was death on two legs…