Bright Blaze of Magic

by Jennifer Estep

  I ran my hand over the star carved into her tombstone, the same symbol that was etched into the hilt of my— her—sword. The motion made a star-shaped sapphire ring on my finger gleam, the gem shimmering like a dark blue tear that was about to drop from my hand and splatter against the tombstone. My mom’s engagement ring, the last present my dad had given her before he’d died.

  I could have stayed here longer—much longer—just thinking about my mom and how much I missed her, but I still had work to do. So I drew in a breath, then let it out, turned around, and walked back through the gate.

  I grabbed the two bags of weapons from where I’d left them in the grass and headed over to a large blood persimmon tree that leaned over the cemetery, right above my mom’s tombstone. I slung the two bags across my chest, making sure that I wouldn’t lose them, then took hold of the trunk and started climbing.

  I always enjoyed climbing, whether it was snaking up a tree so I could get a better view of my surroundings, scurrying up the drainpipe on my balcony to go see Devon at the mansion, or scaling the outside of some brownstone in town in order to get on the roof so I could sneak inside and see what all I could steal. But the two bags of weapons were heavy and awkward and made this particular climb more difficult than normal. I couldn’t have managed it at all, if not for the extra boost of strength that Claudia had given me in the training room.

  That extra magic burned out of my body just as I reached the spot in the tree that I wanted. I leaned back against the trunk, wiped the sweat off my forehead, and caught my breath. Then I carefully removed the two bags from across my chest, making sure that I had a good grip on them, and shimmied up a little higher in the tree, getting into position.

  At my chest level, two thick branches split off from the main trunk, dipping down before rising up and out and snaking skyward again. Together, the branches formed a perfect, sturdy crook for me to nestle the bags in. For extra insurance, I drew out a long length of spidersilk rope from one of my coat pockets, looped it around both bags several times, and tied them down to the branches. This way, I didn’t have to worry about the bags falling out of the tree or some troll getting curious about what might be inside them, jumping up and down on the branches, and knocking the bags down to the ground.

  Of course, a treetop in the woods wasn’t the most secure place, but the weapons would be okay here for a day or two until I could take them to my other, better hiding spot. It was the same procedure I’d used with all the other black blades we’d stolen from Victor, sneaking them away from the mansion and over to my final hiding spot a few at a time, and it had worked like a charm so far.

  Besides, it wasn’t like I could get into a car and drive down to the city. Not this late at night. At least, not without attracting the attention of the guards on duty. They might not spot me creeping through the shadows, but a car was another matter. The guards would wonder where I was going and what I was doing, which was exactly what I wanted to avoid. So it was better to leave the weapons out here in the woods where there was little chance that anyone would find them.

  Once the two bags were secured to the branches, I climbed down the blood persimmon. The trolls in the neighboring trees were still watching me, their green eyes full of curiosity, and a couple of them cheep-cheeped at me again. So I reached into my coat pockets and drew out several bars of dark chocolate. Many folks were afraid of monsters, but not me. My mom had taught me that most monsters were actually pretty easy to get along with, if you knew what toll to pay to get them to leave you alone. In the tree trolls’ case, dark chocolate was the preferred bribe of choice.

  So I held the candy bars up where all the trolls could see them, then laid the chocolate down on a flat rock off to one side of the clearing.

  “Sorry if I kept y’all up past your bedtimes,” I said. “So here’s a treat to make up for it.”

  The trolls’ eyes brightened with sly satisfaction and they cheep-cheeped again, but it was a far happier sound than before. I grinned, knowing that they would climb down from their nests and snatch the chocolate bars the second I was gone.

  I started to leave the clearing, but my gaze went over to my mom’s tombstone at the back of the cemetery. My grin faded, and the old, familiar pain of her loss flooded my chest again, like a copper crusher coiled around my heart, squeezing, squeezing tight.

  “Good night, Mom,” I called out in a soft voice.

  I waited, but of course there was no response. No voice, no whispered words, not even the whistle of the wind in the trees. I blinked back a few tears, then sighed, stuck my hands in the pockets of her spidersilk coat, and trudged back to the mansion for the night.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The next morning, I got up, got dressed, and went down to the dining hall as usual, as though I hadn’t spent most of the previous night skulking through the shadows and stealing things that didn’t belong to me.

  Nothing that I hadn’t done before.

  The dining hall was one of the largest rooms in the mansion, the place where everyone gathered to meet, eat, and more. Long tables that could seat dozens of people each crouched on top of black-and-white Persian rugs, while floor-to-ceiling windows lined the back wall, offering a lovely view of the landscaped grounds and the deep, dark woods beyond.

  I’d gotten here a little later than normal, so everyone was well into their breakfasts. My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten anything since the mini cheeseburgers in the library last night, so I went over to the buffet tables that lined one of the walls and fixed myself a heaping plate of blackberry pancakes, cheesy scrambled eggs, grilled hash browns, and of course, bacon—lots and lots of bacon.

  I crunched down on one of the crispy strips, enjoying the smoky applewood flavor, then grabbed a tall glass of orange juice and headed over to the table where Devon and Felix were sitting with Mo. Oscar was at another table, and he waved at me before turning back to his pixie friends.

  Felix and Mo were both talking a hundred words a minute to each other, so I slid into the seat next to Devon.

  He leaned over and bumped his shoulder against mine. “I missed you on the roof last night.”

  “Sorry,” I said. “But once I got back to my room, I took a shower and went to bed. I guess all that sneaking around made me more tired than I’d realized.”

  Devon nodded, accepting my explanation, although his eyes sharpened just a bit. I focused on my breakfast instead of looking at him. Devon was supersmart and it wouldn’t take much for him to realize what I’d really been up to last night. I’d have to be more careful about lying to him. I didn’t like keeping him or the others in the dark about my moving the black blades out of the mansion, but Claudia wanted it this way, and she was the head of the Family. So I’d follow her orders—for now.

  Devon’s suspicion quickly melted away, and he grinned at me. I grinned back at him, and we both focused on our food, since we couldn’t get a word in edgewise with Felix and Mo both talking as fast as they possibly could. I polished off one plate of food, went back over to the buffet, and got another plate. This time, with even more bacon. Mmm. Bacon. It really was the perfect food.

  “So what do you think, kid?” Mo asked, waving his hand over several paint swatches that he’d laid out on the table. “Cerulean blue or smoke gray?”

  I sat down with my fresh plate of food. “You’re repainting the Razzle Dazzle? Again? Why? You just painted it a few weeks ago. Seafoam green, if I remember.”

  Mo tipped his white straw hat back on his head. “I read this article that muted colors, like blues and grays, soothe people. And you know when people are calm, they—”

  “Spend more money,” I said in unison with him.

  He winked at me. “You got it, kid.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. Mo had a bit of an obsession with interior decorating. He was always painting, cleaning, arranging, and rearranging the merchandise at his pawnshop in hopes of luring more customers inside and then getting them to buy more stuff while
they were there.

  He nudged the paint swatches a little closer to me. “So which color do you like?”

  Before I could answer him, Claudia strolled into the dining hall, followed by two men. The older man had snow-white hair and was wearing a black tweed suit. William Reginald, the Family butler, responsible for overseeing the mansion and everyone inside it. The other man had wavy black hair and bronze skin and sported a far more casual look with his black polo shirt and khakis. Angelo Morales, Felix’s dad and the Family chemist, who grew and harvested the stitch-sting bushes and other magical plants in the greenlab.

  At first, I thought the three of them were just here for breakfast, like everyone else. Then I noticed the hard set of Claudia’s lips and the worry that darkened her eyes. Devon noticed it too.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Not that she’s told me.”

  Claudia strolled into the middle of the dining hall and stopped, clasping her hands in front of her. Slowly, everyone quieted down and turned to face her. Claudia looked out over the pixies, guards, and other workers who made up the Sinclair Family. She stared at me for a second, but her gaze darted past mine before I could use my soulsight to see what she was really feeling.

  “I just wanted to remind everyone that tonight is the dinner for all the Families,” she called out. “As usual, several of you will be attending the actual dinner itself, along with me and the other senior members of the Family, while the rest of the pixies, guards, and workers will either remain here or man their usual stations down on the Midway. Given all the recent tensions with the other Families, I want everyone to be especially sharp and on guard tonight. Is that understood?”

  Everyone nodded back at her, their faces suddenly serious.

  Claudia scanned the crowd again. “Good. That is all. Enjoy the rest of your breakfast.”

  She nodded to everyone, then turned on her heel and left the dining hall. Reginald and Angelo stayed behind, both of them going over to talk to the pixies, guards, and workers about their duties for the day. Mo got up and went over to the other two men. Slowly, everyone else turned back around and focused on their food and conversations again.

  “What was that about?” Felix asked.

  Devon shrugged. “You know the dinner for the Families is always a tense time. She’s probably just worried about that. After all, things didn’t go so well at the last dinner.”

  “You mean Grant kidnapping and almost killing you and Lila?” Felix snorted. “Yeah, I’d say that didn’t go so well is a total understatement. But Grant got turned into lochness food, thanks to Lila, so at least you don’t have to worry about him tonight.”

  Grant Sanderson had been the Sinclair Family broker, but he’d wanted more magic and more power within the Family, and he’d tried to kill Devon and me to get it. I’d turned the tables on Grant instead, and he was the one who’d ended up dead, just like Felix had said.

  Devon shrugged again. “According to my mom, there’s always something to worry about during the dinner.”

  Felix shook his head. “Well, you would think that your mom would relax a little, now that we have all of Victor’s black blades.”

  “Most of Victor’s black blades,” I corrected. “We had to leave some behind, remember?”

  Felix rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I was there too, remember? But what could he possibly do with the few weapons we left behind?”

  “I don’t know,” I muttered. “I just don’t know.”

  But Claudia was obviously worried about it, and so was I.

  Despite Claudia’s warning, the morning passed by quietly. Devon helped his mom with some Family business, while Felix and I went down to the training room. Felix had healing magic, and he was definitely more of a flirt than a fighter, but he was determined to improve his skills, something I was helping him with.

  The two of us sparred for a couple of hours, then got lunch together in the dining hall before going our separate ways for the rest of the day. Felix headed up to the greenlab to help his dad harvest some stitch-sting bushes. Me? I went to my room and took a nap, trying to catch up on some of the sleep that I’d missed last night when I’d been skulking through the woods. All this thieving was wearing me out.

  At six o’clock that evening, I was back in the library, wearing a black pantsuit that was almost a mirror image of Claudia’s, although I’d opted for a pair of black sneakers, instead of the stilettoes she wore. Devon, Felix, Angelo, and Reginald all sported black suits and shirts as well. So did Mo, although he’d paired his suit jacket with a black Hawaiian shirt patterned with white hibiscus flowers. The same splashy pattern also adorned his shiny wingtips.

  My jacket was unbuttoned, revealing my black camisole underneath, but I was far more interested in the wide, black leather belt cinched around my waist. Three stars were hooked to the belt, but they were far more than the pretty decorations they appeared to be. Several quarters were also tucked into one of the hidden slots in the belt, and I ran my fingers all the way around the leather, making sure that everything was secure.

  Devon reached over and grabbed my hand. “You’ve checked and rechecked your belt and your quarters three times now. All your supplies are right where they’re supposed to be.”

  “I know,” I muttered. “And I’d be checking and rechecking my sword if it wasn’t up in my room. I really want to take a weapon tonight.”

  He grinned and squeezed my hand. “And you know that no one is allowed to have any weapons at the dinner. Be glad you can get away with wearing those three throwing stars on your belt.”

  I squeezed his hand back, then buttoned up my jacket, hiding the belt and throwing stars from sight. “I know, but I still wish I had a sword. Or a dagger. Or something else really sharp and pointy.”

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “Everything will be fine, and the other Families will be on their best behavior tonight, including Victor, Blake, and the rest of the Draconis.”

  He was probably right, but I still couldn’t help but worry all the same. Even if tonight’s dinner went peacefully, Victor didn’t plan on keeping those black blades locked away in his secret room forever. He’d stockpiled all those weapons and all that magic with the sole purpose of destroying the other Families. And now that he’d told Blake his plan, it was only a matter of time before Victor attacked us.

  But I kept my worries to myself. If I’d voiced them, Devon would have tried to reassure me. He would have said that we’d stolen almost all of the black blades and that Victor couldn’t hurt us with them now.

  But that wasn’t true. Not really. Because Victor didn’t need black blades and stolen monster magic to kill us.

  Not when he’d so easily murdered my mom.

  Serena Sterling had been one of the best fighters around. She was smart, strong, and had survived more battles and monster attacks than anyone I’d ever known. When I was younger, I’d thought my mom was invincible, and that nothing could ever really hurt her. But Victor had stormed into our apartment that hot summer day four years ago and killed her in a matter of minutes.

  I’d always wondered how he’d done that, since I’d only seen the horrible, bloody aftermath and not the actual attack itself. Victor was rumored to have many, many Talents, and I’d lain awake countless nights, trying to figure out exactly what magic he could have used to get the drop on my mom, what power he had that had let him so easily cut her to pieces, without getting so much as a scratch on himself in return. Or maybe it had taken the combination of his magic and Blake’s strength to overpower her. I doubted that I’d ever know for sure, and part of me didn’t really want to.

  Because my mom had been the best fighter I’d known, and if Victor could kill her, then he could do the exact same thing to me and my friends, black blades or not.

  Devon grabbed my hand again. “Are you okay? You look like you’re about to be sick.”

  I threaded my fingers through his and forced myself to plaster a smile on my fac
e. “Never better,” I muttered. “Never better.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  We left the library, went outside, and got into a black SUV with the white Sinclair hand-and-sword crest emblazoned on the doors. Devon drove, while I sat in the front passenger seat, and Felix and Mo chatted in the back. Claudia, Angelo, and Reginald were in another vehicle in front of ours, along with a couple of guards.

  The vehicles wound down the curvy mountain roads, and thirty minutes later we were cruising through the town of Cloudburst Falls. It was almost seven o’clock now, but people still filled the streets on this hot July evening, taking photos, buying hats and matching T-shirts, and chowing down on burgers, fries, nachos, and other treats from the food carts that lined the sidewalks.

  Normally, I would have enjoyed watching all the tourist rubes, but that strange tension I’d felt back at the mansion just wouldn’t leave me. My sight magic didn’t let me see the future, not like Seleste’s Talent did, but I couldn’t help but feel something bad was about to happen. Or maybe that was just because I’d spent the last two weeks stealing weapons from the most dangerous man in town. During the last four years, I’d avoided the Families—and especially stealing from them—as much as possible. But now, I’d swiped the very thing that Victor prized above all—his magic-filled black blades—and I was afraid it was going to come back around and bite me, like a monster I’d gotten a little too close to.

  Sometime very, very soon.

  Devon pulled into a parking lot off the Midway that was reserved for the Families, but it was already full of cars and there weren’t any empty spaces. The surrounding streets were also full of vans, buses, and other tour-group vehicles, and he had to drive five blocks over before he found an empty spot on one of the quieter side streets.

  “Come on,” Devon said, getting out of the car. “We’re on the opposite side of the Midway from the restaurant. We’ll have to hurry to catch up with the others.”