Istvan was talking with a group of people that centered on him and Piros.
The tip of the Red Drake’s serpentine tail traced an idle pattern across the pavement, but his expression. He caught sight of our trio. “Going partying, ladies?”
Everyone turned to stare at us.
“Yup,” Yana said cheerfully and uninformatively.
I met Istvan’s inquiring gaze. “Peggy said there are chestnut cakes at her family’s open house.”
His gaze traveled to Nora and back to me. “We’ll talk when you return home, Amy.”
A foreboding shiver snaked down my spine. This was an eventful day for him. If Istvan needed to add a serious conversation to it, then the topic was likely to be unwelcome.
Yana linked her arm in mine. “Cake first.” Her voice was artificially bright. Her comment did the trick, however, politely ending the exchange and enabling us to leave behind the gazes of the curious.
Except for Nora’s. She came with us.
Peggy’s family welcomed us with open arms, so much so that I suspected she’d sent a message ahead.
Artoun ushered us through an arch to the internal courtyard which had a strong aroma of spiced cider. Peggy’s husband, Arthur, presided there, sitting on a stool beside the fire pit. He stood at our arrival, bowing first to Nora before smiling at Yana and me. Around him was a purposeful bustle. Laughter and good-humored chat mixed with people being escorted around, inspecting aspects of the building.
“Chestnut cakes,” Arthur said in a conspiratorial whisper. “My daughter Adina has a basketful fresh from the oven in her apartment and the apartment has the best view of the town and street party. Go on up.” He nudged us toward an open door. “Mistress Nora, I am afraid we built our home for goblins, but Aelred has fresh fish here. We will grill them for you and talk of many things. You honor us with your presence.”
Peggy’s house was suitably sized for goblins, humans and werewolves, but not for griffins. By sending us here, Peggy had given us an excuse to shed Nora. And when Arthur added the bit about honor, then Nora had to stay and talk with our host.
“I’ll be fine here, Nora. Enjoy the party,” I called back.
Yana closed the door.
I raised an eyebrow at her in the sudden dimness.
She grinned, all teeth and fierce amusement.
Adina’s apartment was simple, barely furnished, but made beautiful by the craftsmanship of its finishes. We sat on cushions on the floor by the large window and ate chestnut cakes. Adina’s toddler son crawled into my lap and sat there, happy to share my cake while a dozen and more of us talked and watched the street party below. It was a lovely and relaxed way to join in the celebrations. Plus the view from the window meant we saw when Nora departed.
There was a hiccup in the babble of conversation that meant the goblins noticed as well.
“Thank you,” I said sincerely when we left an hour and more later.
Ignoring the spiced cider served to his guests, Arthur was drinking a stein of beer. “Neighbors” was all he said. But the jerk of his head meant not only the Hope Fang pack house next door, but the magistrate hall.
Allies, I thought, and smiled at him.
Rory detached himself from leaning against the front wall of Hope Fang House as Yana and I walked past it. He’d evidently decided that the official part of the day was done. He’d changed out of his uniform and into ordinary shirt, leather vest and trousers. There’s something very sexy about an open collar on a guy.
“You looked spiffy in your uniform,” I complimented him.
“Spiffy?”
Yana choked on a laugh.
Rory leaned close to me. “Don’t you mean ‘ruggedly handsome’?”
Yana laughed outright.
“Nope.” I shook my head, barely holding back a smile. The banter felt good.
None of the Faerene partying on the streets were fall down drunk, not yet. But a few were tipsy and inclined to be overly friendly. No one bothered us. Perhaps that’s why Rory had come to meet us.
“Do you know what Istvan wants to talk to me about?” I asked him.
“No.”
Yana caught a candy from a handful a young elf threw in our direction.
“Kiss!” he shouted.
“You wish. I’m mated,” she called back.
He trotted nearer, eyes travelling to me. “What about—” His gaze snagged on Rory. “Never mind.”
“I think you owe me a kiss,” I said mock-sorrowfully to Rory as the elf ducked into the nearest open shop to hide from him.
“Collect it anytime,” Rory said in a husky voice.
Yana fanned herself with her hand. “Whoo-hee. Hot.”
I blushed.
“To answer your question more fully.” Rory paused.
I had to think hard to remember my question. Oh, that’s right. What did Istvan want to talk to me about?
“I’d guess that it involves Nora and her research into human mages.”
I liked that he said mages instead of familiars. I didn’t like that he shared my earlier suspicions.
He shoved his hands into his pockets, shoulders hunching. “I don’t know Nora as well as I do Istvan. He respects her, so I believe she’s honest and principled. I don’t think she’d intend anyone any harm.”
“As long as she defines that person as a person,” I amended.
Both werewolves stiffened.
“You think she sees you as lesser?” A growl roughened his voice.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. It felt like she didn’t want to engage with me, but she watched me. Maybe I just imagined the bug under the microscope feeling.”
Yana glanced across me at Rory. “I noticed it, too.”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “At the ceremony. You’re a puzzle she wants to solve. I would have said that she’s rattled. Something she didn’t expect has happened and you’re connected to it, Amy.”
“Lucky me.”
He agreed solemnly with my ironic response. “You are fortunate. Having Istvan as your partner…he takes his oaths seriously. It’s why he makes so few. The Migration Oath and the Magisterial Oath are the only two he bound himself with prior to bonding with you. He would stand against the Fae Council itself to protect you and your interests.”
Istvan met us just inside the hall.
Nora stood with him.
“Amy, we can be private in my office.” A slight flick of his wing was the equivalent of a human politely indicating a direction.
Rory and Yana took the hint that they weren’t required. Rory touched my back in passing in a gesture of goodbye and good luck before they headed for the kitchen, or perhaps for the guard unit quarters beyond.
A handful of staff and visitors lingered despite the party outside. They watched with veiled curiosity as I entered Istvan’s office.
The vast room was sparsely furnished. Istvan either crouched on a thick carpet that matched the gray of the stone floor or prowled the room in thought. At the door he paused briefly. “I will speak with Amy alone.” There was no apology or flexibility in his tone. It was an edict from the serving magistrate for the territory.
Nora had tried to join us and been rebuffed.
The massive doors that had stood open since they’d been hung, swung closed.
Istvan sank onto his carpet emitting a whistling sigh. “Come and sit with me, Amy, please. We are in this together.”
“In what?” My unspoken dilemma was where to sit. Since he’d invited me to join him, selecting a chair seemed rude. His black fur looked warm and soft, and the room was chilly. “Can I lean against you?”
To his credit, the austere griffin didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
I hadn’t snuggled with him before, but it felt natural to lean against his shoulder and steal some of his warmth. His long beak, sharp claws, and knowledge of his magical power all failed to scare me. With him, I was safe. He literally had my back. Whatever troubled him, and involved Nora, he was my magician partn
er.
“Fifty four humans bonded with a Faerene magician,” he began. “Of those, Chen’s magic load has increased.”
“Magic load?” I queried.
“The level of magic he can channel. Chen and Viola have practiced with her channeling his magic for healing. You and I haven’t practiced, but your magic load remains stable. The remaining fifty two familiars have seen their magic loads decrease, drastically. At the current rate, Nora fears they’ll lose their magic and return to being mundane.”
Istvan allowed me time to process the bombshell.
I stared at the tidy desk that the magisterial clerks used when assisting Istvan in his office. “Why?”
“It is all supposition. We have yet to discover why or how those humans who gained magic did so.”
It was a puzzle I’d put aside. I couldn’t imagine that anything I’d done in my scramble to survive the apocalypse had warranted waking magic in me.
“The reason for familiars losing magic is, therefore, equally inexplicable. Nora’s hypothesis is trust. Chen trusts Viola and her use of his magic to heal. I’m aware that you wish that I, too, was a healer.”
“Not anymore.”
“Really?” he questioned, distracted for once.
I smiled at his astonished pleasure, but also felt a tug of regret that I hadn’t told him so. “I’m proud of my magician magistrate.”
His wing half-opened and tucked over me.
I wriggled so that my head wasn’t buried in feathers.
“Sorry,” he said.
“No, this is good. Warm. So it’s trust that keeps the magic flowing?”
“Nora argues for that explanation. I promised her that I would channel your magic in a spell, today. We will need to do so daily to provide her with data to assist in proving or disproving her hypothesis. There are political implications.”
Politics were twisty. I was still learning the political situation for the Faerene on Earth. They had Harold, whom they called a king, but he was elected. Then there was the Fae Council; again, elected. The next layer down was regional government, and some of that was clan-based. Complicated was my assessment of Faerene politics, but the Faerene themselves considered the structure stripped-down and efficient. It made me wonder how byzantine the political game on their home world of Elysium was.
“Some of those informed of the loss of magic in the majority of familiars accept Nora’s hypothesis and perceive an opportunity to strip humanity of magic—for the moment. The idea would be to bind a human mage to a magician partner without giving them any time or information on which to build trust.”
“Which would shut down their magic if Nora’s hypothesis is correct,” I concluded, echoing Istvan’s sad and angry tone. “You’re hoping that you and me, like Viola and Chen, can offer a better alternative.”
“Yes.”
I trailed my fingertips along his black feathers. “I trust you, Istvan. I will do whatever you ask of me.”
“Thank you.”
“And thank you for tucking me under your wing, literally and figuratively.”
He clacked his beak in what sounded like the griffin equivalent of “pish-tosh”. “Shall we channel your magic, now?”
“If you like.”
He floated two silver hand mirrors down to the floor in front of us. “We will link the mirrors in a closed circle. This is a precursor of slate technomancy. We’ll give one mirror to your family in Apfall Hill and they’ll be able to talk with you here.”
Emotion welled up in me so fast that my nose burned with tears. I pressed my face into his fur, willing myself to calm. Finally, I could manage a few words. “I’d like that.”
“Brave girl. I’ll cast the spell now.”
I watched the two mirrors. They were elegant silver hand mirrors for displaying on a dressing table. I couldn’t see anything change in them nor did I feel any magic move through me.
“Done,” Istvan said.
“I didn’t feel anything.”
He nodded slightly. “Maybe you never will. However, when we have time, I’ll give you the basic lessons a griffin chick is taught for sensing magic.”
“That would be wonderful.” The gift of knowledge was as important as the enchanted mirrors. It was easiest to control a person if you kept them in ignorance. Granting me knowledge was about setting me free. My hand hovered over a mirror. “May I?”
“Yes. The mirrors operate on a simple closed circuit. When you press the top button on one mirror you turn it on to receive communications from the second mirror. You press the second button to send a communication. It wouldn’t be wise for your family to hear everything that happens in the hall, so don’t press the broadcast button unless you’re sure what will be audible and visible in the background.”
“I understand,” I promised solemnly.
Istvan stood, shaking out his wing before refolding it against his side. “That said, the idea of the mirrors is that your family can contact you as needed as well as simply to chat, so they need to be somewhere they can be monitored. I’d suggest asking Peggy if the mirror can hang in the kitchen during the day and at night I’ll ask Emil to keep it in the clerks’ room.”
I hesitated. The mirrors were solely for my benefit. Well, mine and my family’s. But Istvan was going to make operating them a staff responsibility. “If I had a compact mirror I could keep it in my pocket…”
“A semi-public arrangement is better.” He watched me stand, clutching the mirrors. “Literally tying yourself to your family is unhealthy. I am aware that humans did so with cellphones, but that insanity is past. Moreover, if you wish for your family to visit here, it would be helpful if they grew comfortable talking to people, and vice versa, before their arrival.”
The latter point struck home. The magistrate hall and the town of Justice filled with Faerene were a big adjustment. “Okay.”
“We’ll visit your family tomorrow morning. Nine o’clock, for half an hour.”
I smiled broadly. The smile faded as Istvan continued.
“I would like your permission to tell the hall staff of the loss of magic in most familiars. The news will trickle through, anyway. Rory, at least, needs to know how unique you and Chen are, and hence, how important.”
I would be guarded even more carefully. “All right.”
Istvan opened the massive wooden doors to his office.
Nora immediately peered in.
At my instinctive retreat, Istvan’s tail whipped against the floor.
“A beak full of curiosity and no restraint,” he snapped.
Nora stiffened. “My interest is professional, not personal.”
“And I will provide you with the information you require, but I will not be ambushed at my own door.”
Urwin, the centaur clerk, snorted agreement. “I did tell her.”
Nora glared at him.
I headed for the kitchen. After all the chestnut cakes I’d eaten this afternoon, I wasn’t hungry enough for a full meal, but I’d take a snack and a cup of tea through with me to the family room. If anyone was there, I could talk through with them what Istvan had just told me.
My plans were derailed by the unexpected guest who stood talking with Rory in the yard.
Chapter 11
“Melinda?” The pale gray unicorn who’d been my tutor in the familiar trials stood talking with Rory in the yard. I dashed out through the kitchen door. “Melinda!”
The silvery-blue glow of her horn intensified. “Good evening, Amy.”
I skidded to a halt, not quite on such terms with the unicorn that I could hug her.
Rory steadied me before casually tucking me against him. He’d also been a tutor at the trials, and we were definitely on hugging terms. “Melinda brought some interesting news, which I’m guessing Istvan just shared with you.”
“About the other familiars losing their magic?”
“Yes.”
The glow of Melinda’s horn dimmed. “It is sad. Hopefully, we can remedy the
loss. Otherwise the guilt of losing humanity its magic will be heavy. The thirty of you who were hurt by holding vigil may turn out to be the fortunate ones. Their prospective Faerene magician partners can slowly build their trust during their convalescence.”
I had more immediate concerns. “Nora is here.”
Melinda stamped her right hind leg as a horse might to try to dislodge flies. “She is the chief researcher assigned to discover the how and why of humanity gaining access to and losing magic. She is under a lot of pressure.” The unicorn stretched out her neck and nipped at my sleeve. “Her problems are not yours. That is why I hastened my move here. To tell you to concentrate on your life and needs and relationship with Istvan, and to leave Nora to her worries. Some people’s coping strategy for stress is to share it. I advise against you taking on Nora’s stress.”
“Thank you.” I touched Melinda’s velvety nose.
She huffed gently.
Rory picked up on a different point. “When you say hastened your move here…?”
My eyes widened as I stared at the unicorn in sudden hope. Melinda would be a good friend to have close being as she was older, sedate and wise. She’d provide balance to the quite action-oriented people at the hall.
“I’ll be roaming upriver and in the vicinity of Justice,” she said.
“Bless you,” Rory said with fervor.
Melinda’s ears twitched, the forward angle indicating amusement. “You are very welcome.” And for my benefit. “Amy, a unicorn’s magic provides healing. As I roam, I’ll ensure that the water flowing downriver is clean and, over time, my presence working magic will purify the air and soil as well.”
“A town that has a unicorn’s blessing never suffers an epidemic,” Rory said.
“Oh.” I regarded Melinda with even more appreciation.
She swished her tail. “I have to live somewhere.” She tried to sound casual, but it was obvious that our response pleased her, perhaps especially my awe.
“Will you come in and dine with us?” I asked.
“Not today, child. But I am nearby if you have need of me.” She looked at Rory, including him in that offer.
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