Gemstones, Elves, and Other Insidious Magic (Dowser 9)

by Meghan Ciana Doidge

  The young witch stepped off the sidewalk, slipping off her shoes and curling her toes in the sparse grass that edged the pavement. “The anchor point is right over here. Olive talked me through creating a doorway, then resealing it.”

  “Olive?” I stepped to the edge of the sidewalk, but the boundary magic prevented me from going any farther. “Not Gran? Not Scarlett?”

  Burgundy glanced over at Beau, disconcerted. “I … I thought you’d know.”

  My chest constricted as if my heart was being wrung out. “Know what?”

  Burgundy dropped her gaze, hunkering down to place her stone at the edge of the boundary.

  “Know what?” my father growled behind me.

  Beau cleared his throat. “Easy. We have orders. We’re going to follow them.”

  “Now?” I asked, snarling. “Now you decide to follow orders?”

  Beau ignored me. “Burgundy?”

  The young witch nodded, pulling a box of salt out of her bag. With her back to the magical barrier, she generously sprinkled a half circle about two feet across around her feet. “The salt is better for uneven ground,” she said, chatting nervously. “Better than just drawing in the dirt. For me, at least.”

  I clenched my fists, feeling my father doing the same beside me. The healer remained silent. His magic was neatly contained — which honestly was probably prudent this close to a magical working of unknown construction. My father and I didn’t share the healer’s natural equanimity, though.

  “Just tell me that everyone is still alive, Beau,” I finally whispered.

  “Everyone is still alive,” he said. “Everyone we have eyes on, at least. Since the last time we’ve seen them.”

  I pressed my hand to my chest, trying to physically force away the pain that had lodged in my heart. “Who haven’t you seen?”

  “The elves changed up their wards,” the shifter said. His gaze was on Burgundy, who had hunkered down again and appeared to be murmuring to the focal stone in the grass a few inches from her bare feet. She looked cold. “They closed down the final weak spot a couple of hours ago, though the Talbots are still conducting tests.”

  “Mory’s turtle,” I murmured.

  “Yeah, Ed. We’ve been using him to map the stadium.”

  I glanced over at my father. “Mory is a necromancer —”

  Burgundy abruptly stood, her eyes glowing bright blue. She clapped her hands together, then swept her arms forward, out to the sides, and up over her head.

  The magic of the boundary shifted. Thinning, then slicing open. Just wide enough to step through sideways.

  “I did it,” the young witch gasped.

  The magic wavered.

  “Keep your focus, fledgling,” my father growled, already brushing past me.

  Burgundy bit her lip, stepping carefully out of her salted half circle while keeping her arms aloft.

  My father ducked, slipping through the opening she’d created in the boundary. I followed, with the healer right behind me. We all carefully avoided touching Burgundy’s focal stone or stepping on the salt line.

  My father was suddenly chest to chest with Beau. And even though the shifter was easily five inches taller, he prudently kept his gaze downcast.

  “It’s okay, Dad,” I said. “We all go momentarily insane for our loved ones.”

  My father nodded, but he didn’t step away.

  Burgundy stepped back into the salted half circle, retracing her hand and arm movements in the opposite direction, then clapping again. The boundary magic knitted back together. The young witch bounced on her bare feet, squealing quietly to herself.

  Yeah, effectively using your own magic was a huge thrill.

  Scooping up her focal stone, Burgundy shoved her feet into her shoes. Beau capitalized on the momentary distraction, stepping away from my father.

  I cleared my throat, desperate to simply run off and single-handedly storm the stadium — but understanding that caution might have been a better choice. For a brief moment, at least.

  Also, I realized introductions were in order.

  “Yazi, the warrior of the guardians,” I said, formally sweeping my hand toward my father. “Beau, werecat, husband of the oracle, Rochelle.”

  Beau nodded.

  I continued as traffic sped by us. “Burgundy, witch, apprentice of the Godfrey coven, specializing in healing.”

  Burgundy bobbed her head, practically glowing.

  I turned to the darker-haired guardian on my right. “Qiuniu, healer of the guardians.”

  “Oh!” Burgundy cried, digging into her bag. “I have something for you. From the oracle.”

  She didn’t mean me. Or my father. She offered a folded piece of paper to the healer, who took it with a nod.

  I exchanged a glance with my father. He grimaced. Yeah, that couldn’t be good.

  “We’ve been expecting you,” Beau said. “I parked just on the other side of these trees.” Then he took off without another word, cutting through the forest rather than traversing the sidewalk.

  Not that I could blame him. It was an easy guess that he’d rather be doing anything else than welcoming me back into Vancouver.

  I followed at Beau’s heels, Burgundy beside me and Yazi behind. All of us pretended to ignore the healer as he lingered on the sidewalk, studying the charcoal sketch that Burgundy had given him.

  I glanced back just before I lost my line of sight within the thick trees, catching Qiuniu nodding to himself as he refolded and tucked the sketch into a front pocket that had no business existing in tight leather pants.

  But then, all our armor was layered with magic, including invisible pockets and sheaths. We were about to mount a rescue and quell an invasion, after all.

  I hoped.

  Though it was still early afternoon, it took just a few steps off the sidewalk and into the thick woods that made up the majority of Stanley Park to dim the light as though evening had fallen. The forest was old for such a young city, but no matter the thickness of the fir, cedar, and hemlock tree trunks, I didn’t think it was considered old growth. Still, the park didn’t allow any trimming or clearing of trees or underbrush, so our path to the parking lot required a lot of stepping over slowly decomposing deadfall and being careful to not trample large ferns.

  I had just caught a glimpse of parked vehicles through the foliage when magic bloomed in the branches of a slimmer tree to my left.

  My father’s blade was out and swinging — almost too fast for me to react.

  “No!” I screamed.

  Yazi froze, his golden broadsword only inches from the dimly manifested shadow leech that had just made an appearance in the lowest elbow of a young fir tree.

  The leech chittered madly, then disappeared.

  “Dad! That’s Freddie!”

  My father frowned. “You’ve named it.”

  I ignored his pissy tone. “The leech doesn’t usually appear during the day. It must be extremely hungry.”

  “You’re feeding a demon.”

  I jutted my chin out belligerently. “It’s a … it’s my responsibility.”

  My father sighed heavily, releasing his hold on his sword. It winked out of existence.

  The healer stepped past us, chuckling under his breath. My father gave him a look that would have curdled milk in an instant.

  Beau and Burgundy had already disappeared into the parking lot.

  I dug around in my purse, finding nothing that contained magic — residual or otherwise — except Warner’s knife and Kandy’s cuffs. And I couldn’t feed either of those to the shadow leech. “Have you got any money on you?”

  “It eats money?”

  “It eats magic.”

  My father grumbled something I chose not to hear. But he dug into the pocket of his well-worn leather pants and pulled out three golden coins.

  “Perfect!” I plucked them out of his open palm. “Now, go away. Freddie won’t come back with you here.”

  My father’s lips thinned griml
y.

  “I owe the shadow leech, Dad. And it’s better that Freddie’s coming to me to feed, rather than the alternative.”

  My father turned, stalking off through the trees and into the parking lot. I lifted up onto my tiptoes, carefully placing the coins into the elbow of the branch on which Freddie had appeared. Their gold glistened with guardian dragon magic.

  “Freddie?” I whispered. Then I waited. Muted sounds filtered through the quiet forest. I heard a slight rustling overhead from the birds that overwintered in the Pacific Northwest. Voices came from the direction of the parking lot, and the steady drone of traffic continued from the causeway, completely incongruent to the setting.

  “Come on, Freddie.”

  A sliver of magic bloomed on a fir branch higher above my head, as if the shadow leech was only begrudgingly manifesting. I’d never seen Freddie during the day before, though, so perhaps appearing at all was difficult. Either that or the leech had been hanging out with Mory too much and had picked up the necromancer’s generally belligerent attitude.

  A thin shadow flowed down the tree trunk, shifting over the three coins. The barest hint of burnt cinnamon toast tickled my senses.

  Freddie was starving. I hadn’t thought about that, hadn’t planned to be gone so long. But it was terribly irresponsible to have left the leech without a more permanent food source.

  “I’m sorry, Freddie,” I murmured. “I’ll make it right … well, I’ll fix it as best I can. I promise.”

  Freddie chittered quietly, but the leech’s form was just a wisp of shadow. I could barely see it.

  “Come see me later. After dark.” I strode off toward the parking lot without giving in to the guilt that had been riding me since I’d woken in the nexus. Guilt never got anything done.

  Revenge, however, was much more effective.

  “What do you mean, no?” I asked, my hand resting on the top of the back passenger door I’d just opened. “I want to head straight to the stadium.”

  “The oracle has given us our orders,” Beau said stiffly, staring at me over the top of the black SUV. Kandy’s vehicle. “We’re to return with you to your grandmother’s house.”

  Yazi had already climbed into the front passenger seat, with Qiuniu and Burgundy in the back, waiting on me. Beau was driving.

  Well, he was supposed to be driving. But he had decided to argue about our ultimate destination with me first.

  I opened my mouth, intending to insist. But instead, I strode purposefully around the car and made an attempt to snatch the keys from Beau. Actions spoke louder than words, right?

  Beau didn’t step back as I got up in his face. The green of his shapeshifter magic rolled over his eyes as he shoved the keys behind his back.

  Damn it.

  I was trying to be intimidating without actually having to follow through. And, you know, hurt more of the people I was pretty much sworn to protect.

  Beau’s gaze flicked to my forehead — and the mass of pink scar tissue I could still feel marring my skin. Concern flickered across his face. He clenched his teeth, squelching the emotion. “You said you’d listen, Jade.”

  “To the oracle,” I retorted, knowing I was becoming more and more irrational as I spoke, as I insisted. Becoming more childish. Again. But this time, I had a purpose. A real need. “The people I love are trapped —”

  “Rochelle knows that. And you have to trust her.”

  “That is ridicu —”

  “Why?” Beau softened his tone. “Because you’re older and wiser?”

  “No, but —”

  “Because you’re stronger?”

  “That’s not what I —”

  “Because you wield more weapons?”

  I gnashed my teeth. “Just drop me off. My father and I can handle the elves.”

  Beau nodded agreeably. “Yeah. We know. Rochelle has seen as much.”

  The image of the charcoal sketch Beau had shoved in my face floated to the forefront of my mind, like a bad memory imprinted on my brain.

  Beau nodded, apparently seeing some dawning understanding in my expression. “Yeah, that.”

  “You think … Rochelle thinks that … I’m going to make it worse?”

  “Well, you ain’t going to make it all better by going in guns blazing.” The shifter touched my shoulder lightly. “We need to go. Rochelle was hoping the healer would come.”

  And just like that, my heart was thumping in my chest and blood was rushing in my ears. I turned away from the concern lurking in Beau’s blue-green gaze. No, not concern. Compassion.

  I crossed around the vehicle wordlessly, climbing in beside Burgundy, who was perched in the middle of the back seat. Beau was reversing the SUV out of the parking spot before I even got my seatbelt buckled.

  “All right then, Jade?” my father asked from the front. His magic was buttoned down so tightly that I couldn’t taste a drop of it, likely in deference to the mechanical and electrical systems of the vehicle. Some magic wore on technology.

  “Yeah, Dad.” I gazed out the window at the mostly empty parking lot, then at the heavily treed park as it blurred by. Not because Beau was speeding, but because I was struggling with unshed tears. “We’re just going to Gran’s first. The oracle needs to see us.”

  And someone needed the healer. But I didn’t say that part out loud. Because it was obvious even to me that the only reason Beau and Burgundy were being so tightlipped was that they thought I would become unmanageable if I knew who it was who’d been so badly hurt that the healer of the guardians was needed.

  And you couldn’t have the wielder of the instruments of assassination lose her shit. Apparently, based on the sketch Beau had stolen from Rochelle, that was one of the ways to bring about the end of days.

  “Prudent,” my father said.

  I couldn’t remember what we’d been talking about. Something cool slipped into the palm of my hand. A stone. The image of a smiley face was painted on it. I closed my fingers over it, feeling soothing magic similar to my mother’s, yet tasting of sweet watermelon.

  I smiled at Burgundy. “Thank you.”

  She nodded happily.

  And now the fledglings — Kandy’s so-called misfits — were comforting me, when it was supposed to be the other way around.

  I stared down at Burgundy’s stone, desperately trying to sort through my hazy memories. “The Pack must know Kandy’s missing. Are they here?”

  “No,” Beau said. “They’ve been busy tracking elf sightings themselves.”

  “How did you manage to keep Desmond from showing up with an army?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light.

  “I told him five words. ‘Rochelle says to stay away.’ ”

  Because of me. All of it … the kidnapping, the magical grid … had happened because of my inability to fight Reggie off, my arrogance, and … untethered by all the raw emotion I was trying to deny, my magic welled up, threatening to smother Burgundy’s delicate charm work with my guilt. My stupid, useless guilt over everything I’d wrought.

  I didn’t want to destroy Burgundy’s thoughtful gift. I didn’t want to subvert her gentle magic with my own destructive tendencies. I might have been the wielder of the instruments of assassination, but I preferred cupcakes over murder. I craved friendship over making enemies.

  I was Jade.

  Just Jade.

  First and foremost.

  I relaxed my fingers, allowing Burgundy’s calming charm to soothe me, ground me. “Thank you,” I murmured again.

  “I’m glad you’re back,” the young witch said earnestly. “Everyone has been so worried. Plus Gabby’s good and all, but you make the tastiest cupcakes.”

  I smiled, chuckling quietly. But my father threw his head back and guffawed, flooding the interior of the SUV with his spicy magic.

  The engine thumped weirdly, stuttering, then catching again.

  “What the hell?” Beau muttered.

  I threw my head back and joined my father in his amusement, laughi
ng until I’d used up Burgundy’s charm. Until I’d burned off the misplaced guilt I’d been carrying.

  The SUV sputtered again.

  “So …” the healer drawled. “We’ll be walking the rest of the way, then?”

  My father cranked around in his seat to smile at me, and I grinned back. The magic that had filled the interior of the vehicle dispersed, and the SUV’s engine stopped sputtering and carried on.

  Life happened. Enemies invaded. Then the warriors gathered, and the invaders were eventually beaten back. Just as it had been in Tofino.

  So we were at the gathering part. I could deal with that.

  For a little while, at least.

  6

  My grandmother lay in the center of her bed, ashen and still. The dark-gray silk duvet and white sheeting underneath were neatly pulled up to her chest, her arms lying over top. A flickering, fading dome of witch magic that held only a hint of blue covered her from head to toe.

  My heart stopped in my chest as I stepped through into the bedroom, tripping over my own feet. Then Qiuniu was brushing past me, making a beeline for the bed. He paused before Olive, who was sleeping propped up in an antique chair in the corner of the room. The witch appeared just as drained as her normally robust citrus magic tasted. The healer brushed his fingers against her pallid cheek, but she didn’t wake.

  The dome of witch magic over my grandmother — more of a fine mist, really — collapsed.

  Gran sucked in a shuddering, pain-filled breath. But before she could exhale, the music that accompanied the guardian of South America’s healing powers welled up. Qiuniu settled on the bed at Gran’s side.

  “Jade.” A female voice called to me from the hall. “Jade.”

  I turned away, selfishly thankful for the excuse. I needed to be helpful. I needed to be doing anything but watching Qiuniu wrestle with death for my grandmother’s life.

  Burgundy brushed by me in the doorway as I glanced back into the corridor. The junior witch’s gaze was glued to Gran and the healer. She unbuttoned her wool coat as she crossed over to the other side of the bed, placing a hand on a wooden box on the bedside table.