Resistant Magic (Relic Hunter Book 5)

by R. Leonia Shea

  Something like sadness was etched on his features. “And what is your connection to my upstart cousin?”

  “She needs your help.” I’d always found honesty to be the best course of action in my dealings with magical creatures. For Sidaffri’s sake, I told Idral about her half-freed status and the need to find her lamp.

  Idral looked at me and seemed to consider the situation for a long time. “What would I get for helping Sidaffri?”

  “What do you want?” I wasn’t prepared to bargain for the jinn, but it seemed like I had little choice.

  “If I agree to help Sidaffri, you have to help me.” Idral said, puffing out his cheeks and looking pleased with himself.

  I wasn’t expecting that, and at the rate I was racking up people to help, I’d never get back to my barn in the Berkshires. “Help you with what?”

  “I need an object retrieved.” Idral’s golden eyes swept over me, sizing me up in the most literal sense.

  I explained that I wasn’t a thief, but he stalked closer and walked around me, regarding me with a curious expression.

  Idral’s tone was indulgent. “It’s not stealing if the item rightfully belongs to me. I think you should be able to fit.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. First, I suspected I wasn't small enough to fit many places because my curves don’t do well with narrow, straight spaces. Second, the object could be in any number of scary locations that were probably guarded by humans with weapons or by magic - either of which could kill me. “Fit where, exactly?” I asked.

  “The vaults,” Idral said lightly, as if going into a vault should ease my fears.

  “What vaults?”

  “The Vatican.” He replied, giving me that feline grin again.

  That narrowed the defenses down to perhaps the most deadly humans on the planet - the Swiss Guard. I took a deep breath and thought about the consequences. If I helped Idral, I would have to violate a holy place, slip by superbly trained guards, and steal something that was probably priceless. If I didn’t help Idral, Sidaffri and the magic-users of Italy might be oppressed and suppressed forever.

  I blew out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding and nodded. “It’s not a lamp you need me to get, is it?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Why do you ask?”

  “Sidaffri’s a jinn. Jinn are tied to lamps. It seemed logical.” I said, hoping the grain of truth in the terrible lie would appease the griffin.

  “Hmmm.” Idral huffed. He jerked his chin to the left, rising onto his giant paws and taloned bird feet and heading into the tunnel I had come from. “You do need my help.” He said, sounding smug.

  I didn’t rise to the bait. We walked through what felt like miles of tunnels in silence before Idral spoke again, “There are others, you know. Lamps, I mean.” Idral’s deep voice seemed to come from all around me.

  I remained silent, but my vanity rose to the surface.

  “That’s probably how Sidaffri got into her current situation.” Idral added, still baiting me.

  “You’re going to need to be more precise in case we’re not talking about the same thing.” I relented. I wasn’t giving the cagey griffin any information until I was sure what side he was on.

  “The lamp, witch. It’s most unfortunate that the invaders have figured out how to use jinn to get around the magic.”

  “Making lemonade out of lemons.” I grumbled in the darkness to cover my excitement. I was right - the griffin also knew about the Lamp of Nusku! I squeezed my eyes shut and made a little “yes!” gesture with closed fists and a big happy grin. I was still gloating behind closed eyes when I bumped into Idral’s furry behind.

  I opened my eyes to find the griffin staring at me with a confused expression. “Why are they making Sidaffri work with lemons?” He asked.

  “It’s an American expression, meaning they’re making the best out of a bad situation. That part really isn’t connected to Sidaffri. She’s held by someone else, and she’s been trying to get your attention to ask for help.”

  Idral looked aghast, but he blinked at me like I’d accused him of hiding bodies in the catacombs.

  “Here in the tunnels?” The griffin trembled, causing his feathered crest to rattle softly.

  “Among other places, I guess. Look, she just asked me to find the griffin named Idral. She’s been setting beacon fires to get your attention.”

  His eyes widened. “That was Sidaffri?”

  I thought about that for a second. “How many jinn do you think are here?”

  Idral began to pace, looking thoughtful. His eyes widened. “You must get my item as quickly as possible.”

  “And then you will help me find Sidaffri’s lamp?”

  He nodded unconvincingly.

  “What about the Lamp of Nusku?”

  I saw a flicker of concern on his face.

  “That is what’s breaking the magic here, right?” I asked, second-guessing my theory.

  Idral looked at me and seemed to run through the possibilities. “Why do you say magic is broken?”

  I looked around. “Can’t you feel it? It’s all brittle and fractured.”

  Idral plunked himself down in the center of the tunnel and peered at me in the gloom. “The effects of that would be horrible.” The dim glow in the tunnel pulsed, but the flash of brightness didn’t stay. “Why did I not notice it? Why did I not feel my power fading away?”

  Son of a biscuit! The griffin was talking about another lamp and I’d offered up the real prize: The Lamp of Nusku. So much for my super-spy skills. Not wanting to dig the hole any deeper, I fell back on an old strategy: distraction.

  “How long have you been down here?” I asked, sounding concerned.

  “Years, maybe longer. I’m not certain.” He admitted.

  Another thought occurred to me, and I froze. “Idral, where is your treasure?”

  He puffed up, looking menacing. “I do not tell such things to witches.”

  I shook my head. “Are all of your treasures accounted for?” I really wanted to ask if perhaps the griffin himself was guarding the Lamp of Nusku.

  Idral’s eyes narrowed, “How do you know about that?”

  I shook my head in confusion, I knew I hadn’t said it aloud again, and I doubted the griffin was psychic. I let the apprehension I was feeling creep into my voice. “I’m only asking because I wonder if someone lured you here so they could help themselves to something really valuable in your treasure.”

  “All of my treasure is valuable.” He fanned his wings, and the crest of feathers on his head vibrated a little for emphasis.

  “I won’t argue with you for the obvious reason, but can you account for every bit of it?” Like, a lamp, maybe?

  “I don’t have to tell you that.” He turned his head to the left, raised his beak, and looked over my head. He wasn’t going to even dignify that with a response.

  I stifled my frustrated sigh. “No, you don’t have to tell me, but I think it’s vital to know if someone has been rummaging around in your stash.” I pressed.

  Idral looked offended, but he couldn’t maintain it for long. Shame settled into his golden eyes after a few seconds. “No. I have not seen some of my treasure in many years because I’ve been guarding the most important item.”

  I wanted to sigh in relief, but I had a feeling we weren’t talking about the same thing. “I’m going to guess you’re not sending me into the vaults to get the Lamp of Nusku?”

  Idral shook his head. “The item you are to retrieve is much more important than the lamp. You must help me.” He puffed himself up, but his eyes held a flicker of desperation that knocked the edge off his intimidation. “There might not be much time.”

  Well, that changed things a little. I shook my head in confusion, but Idral misunderstood, rushing on with more information. “Shabe told me where it had been sent. I followed it first to France, then to Rome. I know it’s here, but I haven’t been able to get it so I’ve stayed and guarded it all these years.
You have to help me, witch. In return, I’ll help you and Sidaffri.”

  Shabe was the name of the other jinn Sidaffri had told me about. The French connection sent a shiver of fear down my spine. That might have been ages ago...

  I chewed my thumbnail and thought through the possibilities. One griffin, two jinn, two missing lamps...and an item of paramount importance to a griffin. Yup, we definitely had a problem. The final piece of the puzzle clicked into place in my mind.

  “Faith and Begorrah.” I cursed, realizing that I was perhaps an idiot after all. “What did you lose, Idral, that someone could use to lure you away from your treasure?”

  Idral looked at me with suspicion. “I did not lose it. It was stolen from me. You retrieve it, and once I have it, I will consider telling you what it is.”

  “How do you expect me to get the right thing if I don’t know what I’m looking for?” I tried logic, but the sinking feeling in my stomach was getting worse. Suddenly, I couldn’t step left in Rome without tripping over a flipping magical relic.

  “It’s not a lamp.” Idral said as if playing coy would win my cooperation.

  Whatever the griffin wanted, it was valuable enough to keep him wandering the tunnels beneath Rome for possibly a long time. I thought about his detour through France and the fact that the lost item was so important that he’d left his treasure unguarded. It hit me after a few minutes. “It’s not the lamp they’re after; it’s the griffin’s egg that Robert the Pious sent to the Pope to prove his loyalty. That and a few loose jinn for their army.” I whispered, clapping a hand over my mouth.

  I’d been completely wrong.

  Idral’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know about my egg?”

  I shook my head, disgusted with my research skills. I’d been so sure that I was right that I ignored every other possibility. It wasn’t the first time I’d made that mistake, so apparently, I was a really slow learner. Idral continued to stare at me, so I gritted my teeth and admitted my mistake.

  All of the signs pointed to the blasted thing, and I was so preoccupied with the magic lamp that I ignored them. The Chanson was after the griffin’s egg, so they could bind their followers to their cause. Robert the Pious of France had one that he’d sent to the Pope in Rome to prove his allegiance. The Chanson might not know about the lamp of Nusku, but they certainly found a way around the broken magic. They’d been blasting into churches and vaults and prying open reliquaries to find it.

  “They’re not just here to annex Italy; they’re here to get the egg back. And they’re using a jinn to do it.”

  Idral glared at me. “Then you must get my egg first.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. His egg?

  “It is my responsibility to care for it.” Idral shifted from one foot to the other, his uncertainty telegraphing from his body just as clearly as from the hesitant look in his eyes. He was nervous, and hearing someone else was trying to get to the egg had him understandably on edge. I know it certainly made me tremble with fear. He tapped his talons on the floor, and I watched his panic grow.

  There really wasn’t any other choice I could make. “Okay, Idral, let’s go get your egg.”

  Chapter 21

  Idral took tunnel after tunnel, winding around subterranean Rome in what I was sure was the most indirect route possible. Finally, he stepped aside and pointed a talon down a narrow passageway. I walked ahead of him, thinking about how fortunate I was that claustrophobia wasn’t one of my issues. The tunnel ended in a grate about the size of a man-hole on the far wall. Idral would have to back out because there was no way he could turn around.

  “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, looking at the small opening and seeing all sorts of ways I could get stuck.

  “It’s in there. I can feel it.” Idral said, looking longingly at the grate and breathing heavily on the back of my neck.

  “And where does this tiny hole go?”

  “It leads to one of the storerooms, I think.”

  I looked at him with wide eyes. “You think? So, you’re not sure where this tunnel goes.” With the way my day was going, the tunnel probably led to the Pope’s private chapel, and I’d drop out of an air vent in the middle of mass.

  Idral looked guilty again. “I have a map back in my lair. I can show it to you. I stole it from the workmen when they restored the passage to Castel Sant'Angelo a few years ago.”

  I did a double-take. The main restoration of the site had been started in the early part of the twentieth century. There was no way I was going to tell the griffin he’d been wandering beneath Rome for at least a hundred years looking for an egg.

  “So you’ve been down here all this time, doing what? Waiting for someone to drop by who could fit in this hole?”

  Idral snorted. “Not at all. I’ve been down here guarding this hole so nobody could get in and steal my egg or any other things.” He sounded vague about the other things.

  “So, basically yes,” I said.

  Idral shrugged, but he gave a slight nod.

  “Now you want me to steal the egg?”

  “No, I want you to retrieve the egg so I can guard it more closely. I can’t do my job if the egg is someplace where I am not.”

  I thought about that and decided not to point out that he’d left a whole slew of other things that he should have been guarding when he decided to follow the egg. Then again, who was I to talk? My job was to stop a pyromaniac jinn who I agreed to help, when I wasn’t sidetracked by helping her cousin. I was also supposed to be looking for a lamp or two, yet I was going after a griffin’s egg. I comforted myself with the fact that the egg was the Chanson’s real target.

  That wasn’t mentioning the fact that the situation was the very definition of ironic: a griffin asking an archaeologist to steal a relic. Not only was it the exact opposite of what griffins were supposed to do, but it was also the exact opposite of what archaeologists were supposed to do. In reality, that ship had sailed for me a long time ago, and apparently, Idral wasn’t bothered by the paradox, either.

  I was still in a quandary about Nusku’s Lamp. If the Chanson wasn’t after it, then maybe it was perfectly safe where it was. I could also be wrong. Again. I shook my head and blew out a deep breath of exasperation. One thing at a time, I reminded myself.

  “If I get your egg, you will help me find Sidaffri’s lamp?”

  “Why do you want it?” He asked. “You’re a witch. You can use your own power.”

  I understood his reluctance to risk his cousin being enslaved by yet another sorcerer. “I have no intention of tapping into Sidaffri’s power. For her to be completely free, she needs help finding her lamp. I don’t want the lamp as much as I want to...guard it so nobody else can take advantage of her.”

  Idral looked suspicious, but not for the reason I thought. “That is a job for a griffin.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. “You can negotiate that with your cousin. I told her I’d find the lamp and free her; what happens to the lamp after that is completely up to her. We’re kind of obligated to help each other, Idral. Part of what griffins do is make sure there’s justice in the world. You’d be letting someone keep your cousin enslaved if you didn’t help me free her.”

  Idral thought about that before he spoke. “Griffins are also supposed to protect against witchcraft.”

  Well, that complicated things. I thought about it for a minute. “These are extenuating circumstances; sometimes you have to do bad to do good.”

  Idral gave a slow nod, looking somewhat mollified but still not entirely convinced.

  I wedged a little more logic into that crack. “Besides, if we get your egg and you guard it well, then the people who want to steal it won’t get it and misuse it.”

  “You are certain they are looking for my egg?”

  “Unfortunately, I think your egg is the only thing they’d be blasting into vaults and prying open relics for.”

  “Then my egg won’t be safe here.” The griffin looked even more worried. “
I would have to take it someplace safe or risk losing it again.”

  I nodded because it seemed like a logical jump to me. “You can take it anywhere you want.”

  Idral shook his head, causing his wings to rustle. “That might be a problem.”

  “It’s just a suggestion. Once we get your egg, it’s entirely up to you to decide what you want to do with it.”

  He lifted his golden eyes to mine, and they shimmered with unshed tears. “I can’t.” He whispered. “You’ll have to take it someplace safe for me.”

  I blinked. “What? Why?”

  “You’ll have to take it and hide it far, far away so nobody can ever find it.” A tear slipped out and slid down his furry cheek. “I’m so close, but now I’ll never see it again.” The griffin threw himself on the ground, and a sob shook his massive shoulders.

  I stood there stunned by the crying griffin for a few seconds before I moved closer. I crouched next to him and ran my hand across his fur in a soothing motion.

  “Maybe I can put a ward around it for you. They might not find it if I did that. I mean, I could also be wrong and maybe they’re not even looking for it.”

  “You’re not.” He whined. “It’s the most valuable item ever entrusted to a griffin, and I lost it. Just when I’m about to get it back, someone’s coming to take it away from me. I’m the worst griffin ever.”

  I’d been in his shoes before. “No, you’re not, Idral. You’re too hard on yourself. Everyone makes mistakes. You can’t be perfect all the time.”

  “Griffins are supposed to guard treasure and protect against witchcraft. I lost my treasure, and I have to ask a witch to get it back for me.” He moaned.

  He had me there. “You’re an excellent griffin because you can adapt.” I offered.

  “I can’t.” He wailed. “It took everything I had to make it this far, and I can’t even keep my egg.”

  “I’ll help you! It’ll be okay, Idral.” I had no idea how but there was no way I would let the Chanson steal the griffin’s egg from Idral. He was heartbroken at the mere prospect of losing it. “I’ll get the egg, and then we’ll figure something out.”