Wayward Magic (Magic Underground Anthologies Book 2)

by Melinda Kucsera

  “Oh, Sun Fury,” Lady Florian rose and approached him. The fairies flanking him tightened their grip. “We do intend to use your true name, but not to have you kill King Drokeh.” She touched his cheek fondly. “Rather, to have him kill you.”

  He stared into her hard, golden eyes. Surprise stole his words away.

  “Victory leads to carelessness,” Lady Caraway said from her bone-white throne. “And what a victory it will be for them, to see you cut down by their sovereign. They will linger and they will celebrate. Then they will die.” She gestured. “Put him on his knees.”

  His legs were kicked out from under him. Simith’s mind raced to come up with a plan. He would perish in that arena, that he couldn’t avoid. Yet, it was a chance to get near the troll king. They could force him to fall on Drokeh’s blade, but before that, he could tell Drokeh what the fairies had done. He could let him know the danger, and that the pixies were being controlled by their true names. There was still a chance he could spare his people from what was coming.

  From the folds of her tunic, Lady Florian extracted a slender vial. Pale green liquid filled it, along with a tiny gem that glowed as bright as a star. Simith leaned away from it, a dark forewarning filling his heart.

  “Now then,” she said. “We each have our part to play, and there are only so many commands a true name can hold at one time. This,” she dangled the vial before his face, “will ensure you don’t think of some clever way to betray our plans. For our purposes, you won’t need to speak.”

  Simith recognized it then. A geas, a magical prohibition that would steal his voice. He lurched against his captors’ hold, channeling his magic down his arms to scald their hands. They must have anticipated the move, for they hissed in pain without letting go. Capal grabbed a fistful of his hair and forced his head back.

  “It will go easier if you don’t fight it,” Lord Jarrah counseled.

  Simith strained to speak. “This world lived thousands of years under the cruelty of the Fae. They used the fairies as their objects of play more than any other. How can you condemn us to this?”

  “Survival comes from power,” Lady Caraway said quietly. “We learned that lesson well.”

  They forced his mouth open and Lady Florian upended the contents of the vial, the bright stone flashing. It wedged itself into his esophagus, the magic wrapping around his neck. It burned as it stripped Simith’s voice from his throat. Smoke poured from his mouth. Ash coated his tongue. He gagged on it, and they released him to wretch onto the ground, staining the grass black. In utter silence, he gasped and heaved. Through the pounding in his ears, he heard them recite his true name, listing commands his body would soon obey. Afterward, he was bound, both wing and hand, and tossed into a hole concealed by a rug at the back of the tent.

  Simith tucked his head against his knees. He lay in the cool darkness, the geas lodged in his throat like a jagged pebble, and tasted despair.

  Chapter Four

  Jessa stuffed an extra pair of socks, a light rain coat, and her toothbrush into her backpack before heading to the kitchen. Katie followed her, just as she had when she left Relle’s house that morning, only now she was waving her hands around.

  “You can’t seriously be planning to go there,” she exclaimed. “You don’t have any magic, you can’t ride a horse, and—You’re packing crackers, for God’s sake!”

  Jessa scowled at her friend and kept moving, adding items as she went. A lighter. A flashlight. Scissors. Dried fruit and beef jerky. It was almost like one of those shipwreck exercises in which one had to decide what was most important to bring along.

  Katie blocked her path. “You’re going to run into some horned creature that’ll turn you into a tomato plant. Going to this magicky place is insane.”

  Bandages. She should bring some of those too.

  Jessa zipped her backpack and turned to stride toward the bathroom. Katie followed, blessedly falling silent.

  After Ionia’s diagnosis, Jessa had straggled her way home and went to sleep in her own bed. It seemed a small comfort, but if she had to confront her own death, she’d rather do it from a familiar place. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t considered all the things Katie said. Finding Simith in an entirely different world, one that, according to him, suffered from a war that covered most lands, was hopeless. Then, she’d come home and dreamed of him again, a reminder that if she did nothing, he would die too. She couldn’t bear that.

  It was hard knowing the things she witnessed in her sleep had really happened. She watched him in battle, unhinged by blood lust, the sound of his rage and his pain loud in her head. Almost as loud as the voice of the pixie who fought beside him, the same one who’d called his brother her love. Rimthea. In his mind, Simith didn’t see his hands slaughtering trolls even while they fell and called for mercy. He saw only Cirrus as he burned and bled. He saw his homeland in flames and his people displaced. It was a terrible tragedy, watching Simith’s grief transformed into violence. To see death drag him inexorably farther from the joyful person he’d been.

  Jessa paused with a roll of gauze in her hands. She wondered what Simith saw of her memories when he closed his eyes. Had he seen the way she had shut everyone out after the funerals? How she made those who tried to come close soon regret it? Words had been her sword before she lost them, the false catharsis of inflicting pain on others—as if she could transfer some of her own pain by lashing out. Only Katie had seen through it.

  Jessa eyed her friend where she lingered in the hall outside the bathroom, arms crossed over her chest, annoyed expression in full force. She’d changed out of the sorceress costume into a shiny-metallic pink top, torn jeans, and flip flops with an enormous daisy by the toes. Her red hair hung long and wild over her shoulders, the bruising on her cheek adding a hint of danger. She still looked like a sorceress to Jessa’s eye. Weekend-casual sorceress, maybe. Jessa felt a smile twitch by her mouth.

  Katie’s gaze narrowed. “I’m worried you’re going to be killed and you think it’s funny?”

  “I’m not going to be killed.”

  “That’s just something you can decide, huh?”

  “I have to go, don’t you see? If I don’t, I’m dead anyway.”

  Katie flung a hand behind her. “That old bat is not a doctor. Just because she says there’s magic at work, doesn’t mean modern medicine can’t help you.”

  “It’s not only what Ionia said. I don’t feel the same.” She considered how to explain. “It’s like something’s missing and every second it’s gone I’m getting worse.”

  The worry in Katie’s eyes deepened. “It could be the pregnancy. We should have someone make sure things are all right in there.”

  “After everything you saw last night, do you really think an ultrasound or some anti-biotics are going to solve this?”

  Katie bit her lip. She threw up her hands. “Fine, but I’m going with you.”

  Jessa stiffened. “No, you’re not.”

  “You’re pregnant and sick. I’m not letting you go alone.”

  “Something could happen you.” She squeezed her backpack. “There’s no point in both us risking our lives.”

  “Well, somebody has to carry your pre-natal vitamins.”

  “You’re pregnant?” Both of them jumped. Relle stood on the threshold to the house, the kitchen door leaning against her arm. “That might explain how this link happened if he had to restore both of you.” Her silver eyes went from Jessa to Katie, and landed on the backpack. “Are you going somewhere?”

  Katie took the pack from Jessa’s hands, sending Relle a disdainful look. “So, you’re not just secretly Fae, you’re an eavesdropper too.”

  “The one doesn’t preclude the other,” Relle said wryly, though her shoulders drooped an inch. “And our hearing is better than a human’s, so don’t lie to me. You’re planning on going to the doorway.”

  Katie scoffed, drawing breath for what had to be a sharp remark. Jessa touched her arm to stop her. “I have to
go,” she said, holding her gaze. “Did you come here to stop me?”

  “You don’t know what you’re facing. Magic is like electricity. If you’re careless, it can hurt you. Or others,” she added softly.

  Jessa drew a deep breath and gathered her nerve. “I have to try. There are three lives at stake.”

  Even if she didn’t know exactly what she intended to do about the baby—she wasn’t certain she was in the best mental shape for that responsibility—Jessa felt compelled to fight for both their lives. She hadn’t yet found the answer for how to live after all she’d lost, but she knew she didn’t want to die.

  Relle regarded her in silence. “I’m not here to stop you,” she said finally, and retrieved something tucked into the waistband of her jeans. “If you’re determined to go, you’ll need this.”

  She held out the silver blade Simith had given her. Jessa came forward to take it, relief washing through her.

  “Where did you find this? I thought I’d lost it.” She’d searched all over the Neverstems’ guest room before giving up.

  Relle blinked in surprise. “The pixie gave you that?”

  “He called it a token.” She recalled his somber brown eyes as he’d done it, the warmth of his hands around hers.

  Relle gazed at the blade with a contemplative expression. “Tokens aren’t given lightly. They’re a gesture of high esteem, a bond of gratitude and trust.”

  “A bond?” Katie said incredulously. She looked at Jessa. “You knew him for one night. What exactly happened when you walked him back to the trees?”

  “I—Nothing. A conversation,” Jessa sputtered.

  Relle waved the matter away. “I thought he’d simply dropped it in his fight with the trolls, but if he gifted the blade intentionally, this will work even better.”

  “What will?” Jessa asked.

  “It’s spelled with his magic, see?” She traced a finger down the delicate green vines along the blade. “It’ll lead you to his whereabouts over there.”

  “Like a tracking device?” Katie tentatively touched the design.

  “Sort of, yes. This is precisely why tokens are rarely given.”

  “How do I get it to work if I don’t have any magic to activate it?” Jessa asked.

  “You don’t need any.” Relle produced a slim, leather belt and slid the knife into a sheath along its side. “The blade itself has magic. As its bearer, you only need to touch it and hold in your mind a wish to find him. When the magic reacts, it’ll feel like instinct, a pull to go in a certain direction. Follow that guidance.”

  And hope wherever it led wasn’t toward danger. Simith had intended to arrange another meeting with the troll king when he got back. It’d sounded like a dicey prospect before. Since he never arrived at the first one, it was likely even more so this time. A grim thought occurred to her.

  “Relle,” she said hesitantly. “Ionia said Simith and I are tethered to each other, but she didn’t mention what would happen if one of us…if something happened to one of us.”

  Relle’s eyes held sympathy as she handed her the knife and belt. “You share a single life force. Neither of you can survive if you lose the other half.”

  Jessa shivered, cinching the belt around her waist with hands that didn’t warm even in the July heat. “Then the sooner I leave, the better.”

  “We,” Katie corrected her. “I’ll need to stop by my place for a couple things.”

  Relle hesitated at that, lips pursing. She nodded. “We must hurry in that case. Granny wanted to close the doorway today. We have to arrive before she does.”

  Ionia was already there.

  It had taken less than twenty minutes for Katie to grab a few essentials, switch into her riding gear and a pair of boots that looked far sturdier than Jessa’s sneakers, and arrive at the tree line, but somehow Relle’s grandmother beat them to it. The old woman took in the sight of the three of them, dark eyes managing to look down on them despite her view from the wheelchair.

  She fixed her gaze on Relle. “No,” she told her. “You cannot go.”

  “I’m half-human,” Relle said. “You always say my magic has a different feel than yours. The curse—”

  “Is likely to kill you anyway.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “She’s not going with us anyway,” Katie put in. “It’s just me and Jessa. Can’t you wait a few days so we can bring this guy back and find a way to untangle them?”

  “No.”

  Katie put her hands on her hips. “I thought you were mad he wasn’t still here this morning. Now you don’t care?”

  She rolled her chair a pace closer, a dangerous air to her mien. Jessa found herself taking a step back. “To walk him back to the doorway is to risk others finding it. And you,” she pointed at Relle, “are a fool for even considering this.”

  “If I’m careful, the curse won’t find me.”

  “You say that because I have spared you from knowing the worst of its effects,” Ionia said. “There is a reason I have kept you from going there.”

  “I’m willing to risk it.”

  “Are you.” She opened her palm to reveal a small image of Relle standing there, exactly as she was now. “Would you feel the same when the blood runs from your eyes and spills from your mouth?” She lifted a hand and red streaked from the false Relle’s face. She collapsed, clawing at herself, writhing in agony. “You would not die. Not for many days. Not even if you begged for death. Not even if someone tried to give you it to you.” The girl’s mouth opened in a silent scream. Ionia snapped her hand shut. “You would suffer until the curse filled your heart with maggots and your body rotted through. Even then, you would linger for a time longer.”

  The bright, afternoon sun seemed too bright in the quiet that followed her hideous proclamation.

  Katie swore, voice quavering. “How badly did these fairies hate your people to make a curse like that?”

  “Enough to each sacrifice their youngest child, render their small bones, and drink a brew of their remains.” Ionia smiled thinly. “They hated us, yes. We earned their hatred with the many and terrible games we played.”

  A shudder wracked Jessa from head to foot. It didn’t surprise her that the fairies became so ruthless. No one could walk away from an act like without losing some critical part of their soul.

  “So, you see, child,” Ionia turned to Relle. “You cannot go.”

  Relle’s chest rose and fell rapidly. She lifted her chin. “The choice is mine and I have made it.”

  “Hang on,” Katie interrupted. “You’re not going Relle. Only Jessa and I are.”

  “Katie…”

  “You’re not. You’re not even packed.”

  Ionia turned her gaze skyward. “Why must my only granddaughter be enamored with this nitwit?”

  “Hey—”

  “Do you truly believe she’d allow you both to walk into a world of magic helplessly?” Ionia twitched a finger toward Relle. “She’s already dressed and packed to go. You just can’t see it.”

  The view of Relle shimmered and cleared. In place of her cutoffs and tank top, she wore cargo pants and a t-shirt, tall hiking boots, and a plump pack over her shoulder.

  Katie made a shocked noise. “When were you going to say something? Or was your plan to follow us in and hope we didn’t notice?”

  “I hadn’t decided on that part yet.” Relle met her eyes, unrepentant. “I couldn’t take the chance you’d refuse my company. I won’t see you hurt again.”

  The hard set to Katie’s jaw remained, but the fire in her gaze softened.

  Relle turned to her grandmother. “I know it’s dangerous, and I hear your warnings. I have always listened to your warnings. You told me to stay away from the human world and the world of the Fae, and I have. I didn’t want to, but I obeyed.” She drew herself up somewhat shakily, but her eyes brimmed with challenge. “I can’t obey anymore. What is the point of my life if all I do is hide? These people matter to me, just as Gr
andpa Edam and his sisters mattered to you. I have to help them and you have to let me.”

  Jessa couldn’t help but recall the many whispers and snide comments about the Neverstems in Skylark. How isolating that must’ve been for Relle, who longed to join the world she’d been born into.

  Ionia’s lips flattened with irritation. Exhaling sharply, she lowered her head, propped an elbow on the armrest and rubbed the space between her brows. “Of course, you invoke your grandfather’s name. You and Edam are cut from the same stubborn cloth.”

  Relle smiled. “Does this mean you won’t stand in our way?”

  “I suppose it does.” She sighed heavily. “But you must use caution with your magic. The power there is greater than anything you’ve felt before. Your blood was made to wield it. Don’t be tempted.”

  “I won’t.”

  She jabbed a finger at her. “No big displays. Your human side will only protect you if you don’t draw attention to yourself.”

  “Understood.”

  “I pray that’s true. Let us hope neither of us regrets this.” Ionia leaned back and regarded them skeptically. “First, we’ll have to glamour your appearance. You lot can hardly blend in looking so thoroughly other.”

  Jessa swallowed a laugh. It was an odd thought to contemplate that she’d be viewed as strange in a world filled with magical creatures.

  “Any thoughts on a disguise?” Ionia prompted.

  Jessa considered. She could think of only one.

  Chapter Five

  Simith stood immobile outside the great tent while fairies tightened the straps of leather armor around his chest. Supple and soft, it was finer than any he’d ever worn, and white as a frosted lake. In the torchlight, it gave off a pearlescent sheen, glittering like unmarked snow on a bright winter morning. The perfect canvas, he thought, on which to spill his blood when the troll king cut him open.

  He closed his eyes. He could not think like that. Down in the darkness where they’d left him for hours, his desperate mind had conjured a plan. Its chance for success was slim enough without stacking doubts against it.