They sat in silence as she sipped, staring at one another. She couldn’t read Madam Barrington’s expression, and she felt awkward, wondering what to say.
“I must...apologize for my dereliction of duty,” her teacher began, saving her the need to speak. Madam Barrington’s words were halting, as if she forced them out with difficulty. “Through my inadequate and selective teaching, I left you vulnerable to attack from another wizard. It could have cost you your life, and I would never have forgiven myself had you come to lasting harm.”
“Let me guess,” Lily asked bitterly, “Mother made you promise to keep me in the dark?”
Madam Barrington nodded and sighed. “I have known both sides of your family for some time. When your mother left, it was quite the scandal in the wizard community. Nobody quite knew what had happened, though I had always distrusted that LeFay boy. So when I received a call from Freda, a decade and a half after she disappeared, I was just as surprised as anybody. She said I was the only one she could trust and, since you had plans to attend my school, implored me to...mentor you. Apparently your words before you left made an impression. She felt guilty but was afraid to tell you anything. I felt it was unwise to hold anything back, to operate on half-truths, but I gave my word. Now I see it was a mistake, and for that I apologize.”
Again, Lily felt the resentment rise in her, but she pushed it back. She’d forgiven her mother and could do no less for her teacher who had done so much for her the past seven years. “It’s done and past. Think no more of it.”
“Ah, but I do, Miss Singer...Lily.” She said the name softly, tentatively. Her eyes held a tenderness Lily had never seen before. “You are the daughter I never had, you see. Long ago I...I loved a man. We wed against my family’s wishes, but he was killed barely months later on the German front. World War I was brutal, and my Arthur was hardly the only casualty. I never recovered from the loss, and I emigrated to America soon after because I could not stand to be reminded of him.” Her voice faded and her eyes grew distant. Lily stared in wonder, fascinated by this new openness she’d never even glimpsed before.
Madam Barrington’s eyes returned to the present, and she smiled sadly. “I should have treated you as you deserved to be treated, with honor and truth. You are a strong woman, Lily, and very powerful. I knew you could handle the knowledge I wanted to impart—your parents raised you well. But I listened to others instead of my own instinct. I want to make that up to you. There is so much more you have to learn, if you will allow me to teach you.”
Lily’s throat constricted with emotion and she reached for her mentor’s hand, giving the cold, bony member a reassuring squeeze. Madam Barrington’s admission of guilt and offer of assistance meant more to her she could have anticipated. It eased the pain of loss in her father’s rejection, knowing that her future, her heritage as a wizard, was not closed off simply because she refused to acquiesce to her father’s corrupted morals. There were other great wizards besides her father, and they would help her.
“Of course, Ms. B. I would like that.”
“Call me Ethel, dear,” she insisted, smiling softly.
A plaintive meow cut off Lily’s reply. “If you two are done being all mushy, I have a serious question.”
Madam Barrington’s eyebrows rose quizzically, but Lily just smiled and eyed her cat. “And what would that be, O noblest of felines?”
“Are you done with the milk?”
Lily laughed heartily, but before she could explain her mirth to Madam Barrington, a knock on the door distracted her and Sebastian poked his head in. “Mrs. Singer said you were awake. Could I, um, come in?” he asked, looking awkwardly at the floor and not at his great-aunt.
“Well, Lily, you have quite the parade of visitors today.” Madam Barrington rose. “I shall leave you both to it.” She headed for the door, pausing as Sebastian slipped inside and cleared the doorway. Gazing at him with pursed lips, she finally spoke. “Do not tire her out, nephew. After all the trouble you went to to save her, you might as well finish the job and let her recover properly.” She swept out of the room, but not before Lily thought she glimpsed a twinkle in her teacher’s eye.
“I told you,” Lily said, grinning at Sebastian.
“What?” he asked, sitting on the bed. Sir Kipling, seeing an unprotected lap, got up, stretched, and moved in to remedy the situation.
“She doesn’t hate you. I think she’s even starting to like you,” Lily replied.
“Hmph,” he grunted, still not looking at her.
They fell silent, the awkwardness in the room almost palpable.
“I’m sorry for not trusting you,” Lily blurted out, desperate to say it before she lost her nerve. “And for being horrid about Tina.”
He finally looked at her, relief shining in his eyes. There was something else there, too, something she couldn’t name. “I’m sorry, too, for being jealous and all. I guess I was kind of a jerk, even if I meant well.”
“Yeah, you were. But it’s alright.” Lily grinned, then sobered. “I haven’t exactly been the sort of friend you deserve, either. You’ve always been there when it mattered. I shouldn’t have doubted you.”
He took her hand gently and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll always be there for you, Lil. I promise,” he said, face as earnest and open as she’d ever seen it.
She looked away, unable to keep the words from slipping out. “What about Tina?”
His eyes clouded, but he didn’t look away. “She’s...complicated. We’re just having fun together, you know? Teaching each other some witchy tricks. She’s...kind of wild, and not a very nice person. Not like you.” He smiled warmly at her. “You actually care about people. She only cares what she can get out of you.”
“Oh,” Lily said in a small voice, not sure what to think.
“I’m your friend, and always will be. Even if,” he paused, rearranging his face into what was obviously supposed to be a smile, but looked more like a grimace, “even if you do go out with Agent Doofusface.”
Lily rolled her eyes, trying to act casual even as her heartbeat quickened and she felt warm inside. Then she remembered something. “You...you were right about everything, of course.” In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought. “About my father. He was behind the museum job. I should have stayed away.”
Sebastian shrugged. “Hey, look on the bright side. At least now you know what part of town has all the butt-heads in it. Avoiding them will be easy.”
Lily laughed. She’d missed his irreverent humor and mischievous ways, even if they did annoy her. But her thoughts returned to her current situation, and she grew serious again. “The problem is, I can’t avoid them.”
That got her a raised eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you didn’t learn your lesson the first time,” he said. “If you start acting all shifty again, I’ll tie you to your bed myself. I’m sure Sir Kipling will volunteer to sit on your chest until we talk some sense into you.”
“It will be a sacrifice, but I am prepared.” Sir Kipling didn’t even bother opening his eyes, simply remained splayed out on Sebastian’s lap, luxuriating in the tummy scratches he was receiving.
Ignoring her feline’s sarcasm, Lily shook her head. “No, it’s not that. John Faust...my father...” she sighed, suddenly tired beyond imagining. “He...has plans. Wizards ruling the world and all that. Knowing what I know, I can’t just ignore it, even though I’d like to forget the entire thing ever happened.”
“Hmm,” Sebastian said, noticing her drooping posture and heavy eyelids. “Maybe we should wait to have this conversation until after you’ve recovered. And your mom and ye old bat should probably be in on it.”
“Sebastian!” Lily exclaimed, eyes opening wide for a moment. “Don’t call her that. She’ll never like you if you keep being so impertinent.”
“Fine, fine,” he said, hands raised in surrender. “The point is, you need rest. Mr. Fancy Pants won’t take over the world in the next few days, I promise.” He stood, much to Sir Kipli
ng’s displeasure, and gently took the teacup from her hands, helping her shift back down into a prone position. She winced as the sheets brushed against the raw skin around her neck. It had been an awkward angle to bandage. The pain reminded her of all the questions she’d been meaning to ask him. He’d never lied to her, that she knew, but he certainly wasn’t open about his past.
“Why did the iron hurt me? And you, look what it did to you.” She reached up, pointing to the fresh burn mark on his neck.
“Weeelll,” he answered slowly. “Iron is poisonous to fae. So if you had any connection to fae magic, it might affect you.”
She remembered her father’s revelation that they were descended from Morgan le Fay, and that the woman had somehow acquired and passed on fae magic to her descendants. “That explains why it hurt me. But it hurt you even worse. Are you related to the LeFays?” She felt suddenly and inexplicably afraid. What if they were kin?
“Of course not,” he scoffed, and she relaxed, trying to hide an unconscious blush. “I just...well, you know I’ve had dealings with the fae. They kind of...rub off on you.”
Lily examined him, knowing a non-answer when she heard one. Her piercing stare was interrupted by a massive yawn. “There’s more to that story than you’re telling me, but I’m too tired to pry it out of you,” she said, finally letting her eyes shut. “But don’t think you can wiggle out of an explanation. You owe it to me.”
“Hmm, we’ll see, sleepyhead,” he replied. She heard a rattle of dishes, indicating he’d picked up the tea tray still full of scones, crackers, cheese, and a selection of fruit. “Now, since you won’t be needing this, I’d be glad to, uh, dispose of it for you,” he said lightly.
Lily smiled into her pillow, cracking an eye to look at him but not having the strength to scold him properly. She did notice Sir Kipling glaring at him in displeasure, probably because the impertinent human was stealing his milk. Sebastian turned to go, then hesitated. Bending over, he planted a soft kiss on her forehead and whispered, “Sleep well, Lily,” before slipping out the door.
* * *
Two days later, Lily was just packing the clothes and other personal items her mother had brought from her house when Madam Barrington entered the guest room. The woman nodded to Sir Kipling, who sat primly on the bedspread, supervising all activity.
Turning to Lily, she eyed her student’s slow and careful movements, meant to avoid disturbing the bandages on her ankles and wrists. “Are you sure I cannot persuade you to stay a few more days? You are not yet fully recovered,” her mentor said.
“I’m well enough to want my own bed.” Lily smiled at her mentor. “Besides, I have to be back at work tomorrow and I’d rather drive myself. But thank you...for everything.”
Madam Barrington sighed, but nodded. “Very well. Inform me when you feel up to continuing our conversation of yesterday. I don’t approve of anyone rushing off with mad notions of heroic grandeur, but I certainly agree LeFay must be stopped.”
“How much harm can he do, though? You don’t think Morgan le Fay really exists, do you?” Lily asked, shoving the last of her clothes into a backpack and straightening slowly.
“Quite a bit of harm, actually. And yes, Morgan le Fay existed. There is an unfortunately distinct possibility she is still alive, as well. However,” she continued, raising a hand to forestall Lily’s protests, “why I believe so is a conversation for another time, as are the details of what we must do to prevent his finding her. The first step is for you to recover. Then, I believe you are planning a much overdue visit home?”
Lily nodded.
“After you return, I have much to teach you and very little time to do it. While we work on bringing you up to your full potential, there are some people you should meet on both your mother’s and your father’s side who may be able to help you. No, do not look at me like that. Not all LeFays are as delusional and controlling as your father and grandmother. Also, I shall need to instruct you in the proper use of this.” She held out Lily’s eduba, its red cover embossed in gold gleaming with its usual magical sheen.
“Where did you find it?” Lily exclaimed, eagerly taking the volume. She’d thought it had been left at the LeFay estate along with her other things. She’d never expected to see it again.
“An extremely competent butler by the name of Byron Fletcher brought it to me, along with your shoulder bag. The bag is downstairs.”
“Thank you,” Lily said, holding the book tight to her chest.
“No thanks needed, my dear. Being the daughter of John Faust LeFay, I suspect you have a very difficult, though exciting, future in store. I only hope I can teach you what you need to know to survive.” Her expression was serious, and she nodded briskly before turning and exiting the room.
Eyes distant and thoughtful, Lily sat on the bed, one hand absently petting Sir Kipling while the other rested on the eduba in her lap. A difficult and interesting life, indeed, she thought. She could not deny her relation to John Faust, no matter how much she wished the memory of him away. Nor could she forget his crimes against both her and her mother. Was knowing truth worth the cost, after all? She wasn’t sure. If this was freedom, it certainly didn’t feel like it. She had more to worry about now, not less, and a whole new set of scars inside.
Of one thing, however, she was certain: she was Lily Singer, not Lilith LeFay. And now that she knew the truth, pleasant or no, she had to do something about it.
She rubbed her face with both hands and sighed. “We have a lot to do,” she lamented. “And somehow I feel things are only just starting to get interesting.”
Taking advantage of her distraction, Sir Kipling eased onto her lap, settling into a comfortable catloaf on top of her eduba. “You should stop worrying and pet me,” he advised.
Recognizing a sound piece of cat wisdom when she heard it, she did as she was told.
To be continued in Book 3 of the Lily Singer Adventures: Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus: Allies
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LOVE, LIES, AND HOCUS POCUS: ALLIES
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Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus: Allies
CHAPTER 1 - Thicker Than Blood
What kind of music do cats like? Under normal circumstances, this would be a difficult question to answer—one which scientists and cat experts have, no doubt, puzzled over for decades. Lily Singer, on the other hand, didn’t have to puzzle. In fact, she didn’t even have to ask. She was informed, loudly and unequivocally, that cats prefer jazz, specifically ragtime. This was the obvious answer, she was told, because country was too whiny, rock too angry, pop too undignified, and classical too boring—though it was an acceptable substitute. The expert in question? Sir Edgar Allan Kipling, magical talking cat extraordinaire. What, exactly, made Sir Kipling an expert on cats’ taste in music Lily had no idea, but she’d learned it was best not to argue with one’s cat. At least, not if you disliked losing.
So it was that she spent the first half hour of their drive shuffling through radio stations until she found one that met Sir Kipling’s exacting tastes. How he even knew about jazz, or ragtime for that matter, was a mystery to her. Up until several weeks ago, he’d been a normal cat. At least, as normal as a wizard’s cat could be. For Lily Singer was not just the archives manager of Agnes Scott—a private women’s college in Atlanta, Georgia—she was also a wizard. And being a wizard meant odd things often happened. In Sir Kipling’s case, a mysterious entity had gifted him with human intelligence and the ability to be understood by, but only by, his mistress. That same entity had helped Lily, her mentor Madam Barrington, and her witch friend Sebastian Blackwell stop the theft of a powerful magical artifact, with the side benefit of defeating a greater demon intent on eating them.
Yet Sir Kipling hadn’t been the only one to come away changed. The entity’s otherworldly touch had made her ward bracelet—the wizard equivalent of body armor—more powerful than any magical artifact she’d ever seen. She�
�d been told the bracelet would protect her, and protect her it had. Not just against demons, but against her estranged father, John Faust LeFay.
She’d spent years searching for him, allowing a rift to form between herself and her mother and stepfamily in the process. Yet in the end it was he who found her. She discovered, too late, why her mother had left him in the first place. A powerful wizard in his own right, her father showed his true face when he attempted to use her in a magical experiment that could have driven her insane—if it had worked. Rescued at the last minute by her friends, Lily was left devastated, wishing she could erase the knowledge of who her father really was: an egomaniacal sociopath. The truth may have freed her, but with that freedom came a burden of responsibility. It was, in fact, the reason for her current road trip with her musically opinionated cat.
They were on their way to Bertha, Alabama, to see her family for the first time in seven years. This reconciliation or “strengthening of the ranks,” as her mentor called it, was the first step in preparing Lily and her allies to stop John Faust’s insane plan to repopulate the world with wizards so they could “benevolently” rule mundane society. Completely aside from her father’s questionable ethics—the ends justify the means, all is permissible for the greater good—she was quite sure any wizard interference in mundane affairs, or vice versa, would end in disaster and bloodshed. Even if John Faust’s desire to preserve the dwindling wizard race was a worthy cause, his methods and ultimate goal were untenable.
Of course, stopping John Faust was easier said than done. Besides being exceptionally intelligent, highly skilled, and downright rich, he was also a respected member of the wizard community—well, respected by some, feared by others. Any attempt to recruit allies against him would be met with scoffing or outright hostility.
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