The Sunken Tower

by J A Campbell

  Melanie swallowed, tasting blood in her mouth.

  “You promised you’d stay away.” His voice sounded icy.

  “I thought it was just Monza and Rome,” Melanie kept her voice level and her eyes on the man. “I kept my word and have never returned to either. I had no idea the family was from Curon Venosta.”

  “You bring me trouble.” He gestured toward Hagatha.

  “I am sorry, Don Giovanni,” she replied, honestly.

  “You do not steal from me.”

  “I will pay...” Melanie offered the only thing she could think to appease him.

  “No.” Hagatha stepped forward, her eyes near red with anger. “You deal with me. Melanie had nothing to do with this. And I stole nothing.”

  Melanie tensed at the sound of twin clicks. The gunmen stepped forward, their weapons trained on Hagatha, who didn’t appear to be aware of just how much trouble she was in. Both men’s eyes shifted to the Don.

  Melanie kept her eyes on the old man, trying to ignore the trickle of icy sweat slowly tracing down her underarm.

  “Where is the rock now?” Don Giovanni said.

  “If you’re referring to the item that was rightfully mine, it is under the sea,” Hagatha spat. “The people who took it in the first place got it back.”

  The Don’s eyebrows shot up.

  “And what reason do I have to not drop you there?” Don Giovanni hadn’t raised his voice or moved a muscle, but the air in the room charged like a near lightning strike.

  Cold panic struck Melanie as Hagatha’s bound arms shifted.

  Elise stepped forward, clearing her throat and completely ignoring the guns trained on her. All of their bonds loosened and Elise simply raised her hands. “If you shoot her, you will bring down the wrath of House Macrow. Your house will be destroyed. Every. Last. Member.”

  It wasn’t so much the words Elise said, but the way she said them that had Melanie believing every word. Power practically vibrated from the necromancer. She suddenly understood why the people of Neutral were terrified of her, if they’d ever seen her even half this imposing. She held herself perfectly, as if she were the Queen of, well, everything.

  The Don didn’t exactly shift his chair back, but he appraised Elise carefully before gesturing for his goons to lower their weapons again.

  “I’ve not heard of this House Macrow.”

  Elise’s lips twitched in a secret smile that made Melanie’s skin crawl. She glanced at Hagatha. The normally pale woman had turned white as a sheet. Eyes wide, she stared at Elise with her jaw dropped.

  Hagatha hadn’t seen this side of Elise, either.

  “Of course not. Our House is older than your country,” she hissed. “I can’t expect upstarts such as yourselves to know of our noble linage. Nor would I expect you to recognize its members, but you have three of them in your presence, and we will be shown respect.”

  Melanie was actually shocked when the Don didn’t drop to his knees.

  His goons, however, did.

  The Don’s eyebrows rose. “Get up, you fools.” He turned back to Elise. “Parlor tricks.”

  Elise simply raised an eyebrow and stared at the Don. He stared back, but Melanie saw a bead of sweat gather on his brow.

  Finally, the Don dropped his eyes. “Madam Macrow, we will, be assured, investigate your claim.”

  That strange half smile flitted across Elise’s face again. “As you will. I believe we are finished here.”

  The Don nodded graciously. “Indeed.”

  “As a token, House Macrow will deliver a replacement wedding gift. Congratulations to the happy couple. Your people will leave my people alone, or there will be consequences.” Elise offered a slight nod before turning sharply and marching from the room.

  Melanie grabbed Hagatha’s arm and yanked her after the woman.

  Once they were back into the crisp mid-morning air, Melanie discovered they had another problem. Transportation. Somehow, Elise had that under control as well. She bore down on the large man who had driven them to the Don’s home.

  “You will take us back to town. Now.”

  The man’s eyes went wide in panic and he glanced over her shoulder. Melanie guessed fear was not something the man was used to feeling, but he scrambled into the driver’s seat.

  Elise stood by the rear door and waited.

  “So sorry, ma’am.” He jumped out and opened the door for her and shut it when the three women were seated.

  Melanie noticed the Don standing in the doorway as the driver pulled away from the house.

  Elise remained silent, keeping up the act throughout the quick trip back to the hotel. She stared straight ahead, not even looking at the beautiful scenery as the car twisted through the mountain roads.

  Finally, the driver pulled up to the hotel, jumped out, and opened the door for them. He went so far as to bow and offer Elise a hand.

  She ignored him, striding regally away from the bewildered thug. Melanie did accept his assistance out, not quite certain she could make the high step down on her own.

  Hagatha stepped out. They both hurried after Elise into the lobby, getting wide-eyed looks from the staff, which Elise also ignored.

  Melanie tugged Hagatha after Elise until they were in the necromancer’s room; then Elise whirled around and glared at Hagatha.

  “Are you quite finished endangering our lives and the mission?” she practically growled.

  “Yes. I’m sorry.”

  “Good. What the hell is wrong with you?” Elise hadn’t softened her expression.

  “I’m sorry,” Hagatha murmured again. “I guess I’m feeling left out.”

  “Of what? We’ve included you in every aspect, from Melanie’s training to this mission. You’ve proven untrustworthy, which is not like you at all.”

  Hagatha’s shoulders slumped. “I guess, I don’t know... I’m just not good enough.”

  Elise shook her head. “Hagatha, you’re as talented as every person in the room. Get over it already.”

  “Paolo says I don’t fit in the House and I should just leave you all.”

  “Paolo?” Elise stared at her kinswoman. She practically spat at the thought. “The only Paolo I know is Lord Clarion.”

  Hagatha flushed. “We’ve been seeing each other since the last JM meeting… He’s been helping me.”

  “Helping you with what?” Elise tried to keep her voice from rising, but fury was about to take her. “You realize, Lord Clarion is our House’s enemy on the Council?”

  “I don’t…” Hagatha shook her head. “I don’t like the politics of the JM. I attended that one meeting and I knew Marcus and Paolo didn’t get along then, but I thought it was just a momentary thing.”

  “No,” Elise replied. “Marcus won’t talk about it, and Lord Clarion’s done whatever he can through the JM to damage House Macrow. I’d imagine whatever he did to you was an extension of that feud.”

  She sighed. “I’m sorry. I’ll... I’ll get myself right. Should I break it off with Paolo?”

  “Hagatha,” Elise chose her words very carefully, seeing the pain in her cousin’s eyes and how close she was to breaking down. “I seriously doubt you were ever truly ‘on’ with Lord Clarion. He is probably using you against the House.”

  Hagatha sobbed, wrapping her arms around her slender body and rocking. Melanie stepped forward and got her tissues, offering a kind word and a pat on Hagatha’s shoulder.

  “We’re here for you, Hagatha. Even if we have to crack you over the head.”

  Elise’s cousin nodded.

  “Are we good now?” Elise fingered something at her neck.

  “Yes.”

  “Good, because we’ve got things to talk about.” Elise sank down onto the edge of the bed.

  “Yeah,” Melanie piped up. “For starters, how the bloody hell did you pull that off? You practically made him shat kine.”

  Elise flopped back onto the bed when Hagatha giggled. “Behold the power of the necromancer,” th
e crazy one said.

  “Excuse me?” Melanie fisted her hands and put them on her hips.

  “I channeled a bit of Marcus, a bit of Valonna.” Elise’s lips twisted at that. “And I asked a sympathetic ghost to help me out with the intimidation. They’ll never know what hit them.”

  “A ghost. You used a ghost to do all that?” Melanie sank down into her own chair, her insides quavering. “I think I need some tea. With whiskey.”

  “Tea would be grand. Then we need to talk about what else I learned today, starting with this.” Elise pulled down the collar of her shirt, exposing a gleaming green stone.

  Melanie and Hagatha both studied the emerald pendant.

  “That’s mine,” Hagatha said, not reaching for the stone. “It was in the bag that we lost in the Med. Where’d you get it?”

  “Darien.” Elise sighed.

  Hagatha stared longingly at the gleaming emerald resting against the outstretched wing-like shape of her cousin’s tanned clavicle. She moved her tongue around to moisten the sudden dryness in her throat. Her hand itched to reach out and take back her belonging as she’d done with the citrine geode at the wedding.

  So close. Elise was now seated across from her at the tiny table in her hotel room.

  A glint in Elise’s eyes harder than the Mohs Hardness index for the gemstone stayed her grasping fingers short of their goal. That emerald might’ve been given to her first by Lord Clarion, but it was Elise’s now, and she’d snatch back a bloody stump if she tried to take it from her.

  Hagatha nodded, lowering her eyes to the dark stained wooden tabletop in a mute apology.

  “Darien gave this to you?” Melanie asked, turning the name into something exotic and beautiful with the simple roll of an R.

  Hagatha recalled the name Elise had spoken just a few moments earlier with such an unmistakable mixture of joy and sadness. She turned to Melanie, a rebuke hot on her lips for interrupting. The girl had a complexion made for moonlight, pellucid as fine china, which reflected a soft glow by starlight. The fae girl was nearly white now. Hagatha’s breath caught, and she returned her gaze to Elise, who nodded in answer to the question, her lips firm.

  “I’ve missed something,” Hagatha confessed. Either the two had been sharing a good deal more with each other, or she hadn’t been paying attention. Either one hurt. She resolved to be a better team member. All their lives were still at stake. Both women had saved hers multiple times at great risk to their own. She’d done nothing but add to their troubles.

  “I met Darien here at the bakery,” Elise said. “He claims to be local, but his accent isn’t anything like the Italians.”

  “Then two of my stones have shown up here,” Hagatha said. “Both lost in the sea to dragons. We’re on the right track, but how are they getting in the hands of the locals?”

  “You need to talk to Darien as soon as possible,” Melanie said to Elise. “Maybe he can tell us something about the stones. Then we can go to the rock shop and talk to the owner, see if more of Hagatha’s rocks are there for sale. From the wrapping, that’s where the Don bought the wedding present, possibly right after we’d left. Remember, when we came in to buy Hagatha’s presents, that Asian-looking woman was walking out, and the owner mentioned she’d sold stones to her that she was going to have ready soon?”

  Hagatha felt like the goofy cartoon character with the light bulb coming on over her head. She shook her head regretfully and spoke.

  “I’ve been out of it,” she confessed, and from the nods of her two companions, she was stating the obvious, though neither of them was rude enough to call her on it or laugh at her. Their expressions were instead concerned. “Sorry.”

  “You’ve had quite a bit of shock,” Melanie said kindly.

  “So have we all,” Hagatha said. “It’s time for me to start contributing to the solution instead of making matters worse so we can get this case solved before...”

  She couldn’t finish the sentence, but her companions nodded in full agreement.

  “The emerald’s spelled,” Elise said. “I cannot decipher the enchantment laid on it but my shields have protected me. For some reason, I do not believe you were so fortunate, cousin. Hagatha, are you grounded enough now to attempt to read the spell?”

  Hagatha’s eyes blurred and stung. Grounded, she could get. Preparing for the hurt she’d no doubt feel when she learned what her lover had done to her was a whole ‘nother matter. But she was the one of the three with experience in reading the unique language of spells, particularly the kind cast by geomancers on stone. She couldn’t let them down again. She’d been so happy to have the man’s attentions, she’d never even considered he’d cast a spell on the gift he’d given her.

  “Whiskey or tea?” The question came from Melanie, who stood by the coffee maker they’d only used for hot water to brew their tea.

  “What would you recommend?” Hagatha meant it to be friendly and humorous but realized it was neither. Melanie had come face to full-on-naked with the man she’d described as a horrible mistake, and that was clearly her fault…again. Hagatha muttered once more, “Sorry.”

  “Stuff happens,” Melanie said. “Someday, we’re all going to look back on this and laugh.”

  Melanie poured whiskey into the plain, stout, hotel-issued coffee cup and passed it over. Caffeine and alcohol hit her between the eyes with the first careful sip of a mixture of black tea and peaty Scotch whiskey. She took a couple of drinks and set the cup down on the table with a solid thunk.

  “Elise, shield in case the stone makes me go crazy…or sane…or something.”

  Both women laughed. That was a good start to getting things back to what passed for normal between two dark ladies and a fae.

  This time, Hagatha waited for Elise to pull the necklace off and carefully hand it over. Hagatha took the emerald, warmed from Elise’s skin, in her hand and reached with her magic sight for the spell-work laid on the stone. She noted that there was no signature from one of the House of geomancers. Did he purchase the job from a fae or some other entity who could hide their enchantments from her? As soon as she got home, she needed to talk to Professor Harkenrider, her mentor in the art of stone, and find out what happened and how she could prevent it in the future.

  Her vision filled with rich green: envy, jealousy, Scheele’s green—the poison pigment that killed so many a few centuries ago—and absinthe, the great invigorator of dark dreams and illusions. The geomancer Lord Clarion had used was wise to play to the stone’s rich green to aid in the powerful enchantments. Where the eye leads, the heart often follows.

  Taking a deep breath, she canceled every one of the negative sorceries with a cleansing gesture. Energy from her magic permeated the close hotel room and scented it with the fragrance of ionization after a rainstorm.

  Hagatha let the stone drop from fingers grown abruptly cold and numb as if she’d stuck them in dry ice. The pendant hit the table in front of her with a soft thunk. The emerald was once more what the Goddess intended it to be, a thing of beauty, a memory, a tabula rasa for its holders to write their own thoughts and beliefs upon.

  Which, she had to confess to herself, were mighty in their own right. She recalled her delight when she’d seen the glimmering faceted stone in her lover’s hands and realized he’d meant that bit of beauty to grace her throat.

  The memory brought her anger back afresh. She raised her hand to crush the stone. It was frangible, more so than most of the gems in that class.

  Elise’s long-fingered hand stayed her.

  “That stone caused me to try and make you hate Marcus.” Hagatha turned to Melanie. “And to be jealous of the two of you being friends.”

  “We’re family,” the two said as one. “We forgive you.”

  “Just don’t do it again,” Elise cautioned.

  “Please.” Melanie added.

  “Don’t forget,” Hagatha advised them. “I don’t know how deep the poison runs. I’ll fight it, I promise you that, but please wa
tch me until I can earn your trust once more.”

  They both nodded.

  “Now, I’m taking this to Darien to see what he can tell me,” Elise said. She picked the stone off the table, but did not put it on. Hagatha wondered what that meant for the relationship between the two of them, but now was not the time to ask.

  “You don’t think he’s one of the dragons?” That from Melanie. After the messes she’d made, Hagatha could barely speak, and she didn’t want to invoke Elise’s wrath any more than necessary by asking the question.

  “I don’t want to think so,” Elise confessed, her voice flat. “But the evidence is adding up. We need to talk.”

  Melanie laughed. “Men hate to hear those four words.”

  Melanie and Elise laughed, more or less having shared those kinds of experiences with various significant males in their lives at one time or another.

  Hagatha almost felt the tension in her shoulders ease until Elise turned her green eyes back to her.

  “There’s more.”

  Hagatha let a near hysterical snort loose. “After nearly drowning…twice…facing the Mafia…”

  “Valonna found me this morning and made us an offer…”

  “An offer we can’t refuse?” Hagatha let the nervous giggles she’d been suppressing out until her sides ached from near hysterical laughter. “First, the Godfather. Now her. What could she possibly want?”

  “I’m passing the offer along,” Elise said. “In the name of honesty and full disclosure.”

  Hagatha grimaced. Valonna knew her daughter very well, even if the two were unalike, save in their strength and magical power. Elise was honest and decent, like her father.

  Elise pulled a bundle wrapped in Valonna’s signature color—oxblood, a hideous mix of the worst aspects of red, brown, and purple that reminded Hagatha of raw liver every time she saw it and made her want to recoil—from her pocket and set it down between them. Hagatha noticed while her cousin’s expression was carefully neutral and inoffensive, she’d still raised shields. Prudent, really. Hagatha would do the same until she was certain she could trust the other person. And you could never trust Valonna.