Magic Forged (Hall of Blood and Mercy Book 1)

by K. M. Shea

  “A tiny sliver of it that is under my direct control, yes. Though my office isn’t stationary in the fae realm—that would make me too easy for those wretch nobles to find.” He made a face, then furrowed his brow and clawed at his mustache when he nearly inhaled a whisker.

  Killian plopped down on an elaborately carved chair made of white wood. “Have you finished schooling the wizard?”

  The Paragon flipped his glasses up again, this time to peer at me. “A wizard? My, my—I never thought you’d keep mixed company, Mr. Paranoid.”

  “She may be of use to me.” Killian glanced at the living desk, which sprouted a chrysanthemum at the corner closest to him. He narrowed his eyes at it, and the flower instantly withered and died. “Which is why I brought her here. She’s a Medeis—the last one.”

  “Ahh, you are Hazel Medeis.” Some of his pluck left the Paragon and was replaced with moroseness as he bowed his head. “I heard of your parents. I am sorry for your loss. Wait.” He furrowed his brows and glanced back at Killian. “What are you doing with the House Medeis Adept? Did you kidnap her? You shouldn’t do that, you know. Even if the wizards fear you and let you have her, it’s not a good look. Besides, you don’t even like humans, much less wizards!”

  Killian smiled, and the black-red of his eyes seemed to lighten up into more of a glowing blood red. “She came to me willingly. Some infighting in her House, I believe, but I don’t care about that.”

  The Paragon glanced at me—I couldn’t tell if he was looking to me for confirmation, or was checking to see if I was shocked by Killian’s careless words.

  I wasn’t surprised. Killian Drake wasn’t feared just because he’s good at smoldering. His general disregard for any life except vampires had gotten him a pretty dark reputation. In fact, if he had shown interest in Mason and everything that had gone down with House Medeis, I would have turned tail and run for all I was worth. I did not want a vampire mucking around in my business—particularly one as powerful and terrifying as Killian Drake.

  The Paragon blinked, but kept on staring at me.

  I shrugged a bit and edged away from Celestina—the much taller woman loomed over me as she perused the bookshelf just behind me.

  “What interests me is her magic—or lack of,” Killian continued. “She’s awful at magic. Lighting a candle is probably as useful as her magic gets, even though she’s a Medeis. Given her pedigree, that seems a bit suspicious.”

  The Paragon frowned. “You think she’s faking it?”

  “No,” Killian snorted. “Wizards are far too proud—if she really had more power her House would have trumpeted it from the walls when she made Adept. No, she believes she’s a near dud in magic. Which makes me suspect her powers were sealed as a child.”

  The Paragon turned in a slow circle, tapping his fingers together. It took me a moment to realize it was in excitement. “It can be done—though I’ve never heard of anyone being stupid enough to want it. But the wizards have asked us fae in the past to seal the magic of their most dangerous criminals.”

  The Paragon had a point—if my magic was sealed it was done by a fae. Though wizards have more natural magic since we channel it through our bodies, the way we can use it is limited. We can bend the elements to our will—like fire, wind, water, you get the point—and fight or defend with raw magic.

  The fae are in a similar but opposite position. Since they have to use things to channel magic for them, they can use magic for things like sealing powers, disguises, imbedding a spell in an item, a strain of hypnosis, and so on. They can’t react as quickly as a human wizard can, and in a magic fight a human wizard would win over a fae. But outside of fighting—which is more useful since supernaturals hadn’t had a large scale wars in decades—fae magic has far more uses.

  Like sealing someone’s access to magic.

  But even though it was possible, the idea that my magic was sealed was totally stupid. There’s no way my parents would have allowed it—and no one could have done it without their knowledge. (Besides, who would have done it? Mason had obviously been planning a long time, but I doubt he had his takeover in mind when he was ten.)

  “Perhaps Aphrodite might be able to tell if she’s sealed.” The Paragon made his way over to a bookshelf behind his desk.

  Killian rolled his eyes. “That abomination can’t sense magic any better than a fruit fly.”

  The Paragon gasped in horror. “How dare you say such things about this majestic creature!” He turned to a massive, velvet red cushion that was carefully placed on the middle shelf. Resting on the cushion was what I had assumed was a preserved egg from the fae realm—it was a very unusual shade of pink.

  But when the Paragon put his hand on it, the egg uncurled, revealing spindly legs, a hairless tail, and a wrinkled head ornamented with ears so big they were almost bat-like.

  It took me several long moments to realize the Paragon was petting a hairless cat that had a prominent belly and wrinkle lines that made the feline look angry.

  “He didn’t mean it, my dear,” the Paragon told his…unique cat. “He’s jealous of your inherent beauty and great charm.”

  “I have never seen that cat leave its cushion in its whole life,” Killian said. “It has no charm to speak of.”

  “Don’t listen to him, Aphrodite.” The Paragon scratched the cat under the chin and was rewarded with a deep purr even I could hear.

  “Aphrodite?” I cautiously asked.

  The Paragon beamed at me. “Aphrodite is a hairless sphinx cat with the bluest of bloodlines and a peerless pedigree! She came from a particularly famous litter of sphinx kittens, for her siblings have been scattered across various realms to bless the residents of the universe!”

  “Mmmert,” Aphrodite said.

  The Paragon apparently wasn’t anywhere near finished as he beamed at his treasured pet. “Given her great beauty and remarkable family, I knew I had to give her a name worthy of her glory! Inspired by a great number of Renaissance paintings, I settled on Aphrodite.”

  “Don’t—” Killian started to say.

  “Why?” I asked.

  A thin wrinkle connected Killian’s eyebrows, expressing his horror.

  The Paragon, however, chortled. “Because as it seems Renaissance artists were incapable of creating art in which the goddess Aphrodite was clothed, neither can fur be allowed to hide the greatness that is my feline companion!”

  Shocked, I stared at the bald cat. “I…see?”

  “Indeed!” The Paragon laughed until his precious cat hooked her claws in his tunic and pulled. “Wait—you must sheathe your claws, Aphrodite. I can’t let you ruin this robe, too!”

  Killian looked physically pained—or ill. I wasn’t sure which, but either way it made my day to see him uncomfortable. “Stop playing with the cat and check to see if she’s sealed.”

  “But—”

  “Now!”

  “Bossy!” the Paragon huffed. He made a face at Killian, then beckoned to me. “Step this way, wizardling.” He shuffled across his office, pausing at the far side of the room where a massive, spiraled horn leaned against a wall. He picked it up, grumbling under his breath as he struggled to hold it. “Mutant giant unicorn,” he complained as he staggered to a dark corner of his office. “Thing was an abomination. I can only hope it didn’t breed like rabbits. Here we go.” He maneuvered the horn—which was almost as long as I was tall—so the sharpened point was tilted down, then tapped the ground.

  That corner, which had previously appeared dark and dusty, flared to life. Elaborate swirls and circles of stars burned a bright gold on the ground. The light left the circle and traced up the sides of the wall in thick strokes reminiscent of trees, then crawled across the ceiling in another star pattern so the entire corner glowed with magic.

  The Paragon slapped his hands on his robe, then pointed to a crescent moon at the dead center of the circle. “Stand in the center, if you please. Yes, right there.”

  I stood in the circle, still
wearing my black pants from my job and the white t-shirt I had woken up in. I curled my toes in my running shoes, smiling at the quiet hum of magic that seeped beneath my feet.

  “Check her thoroughly,” Killian instructed from his chair. He reached inside his suit and adjusted something in a pocket. “I’m sure whatever it is it’s well hidden, or she would have been outed by now.”

  The Paragon snorted. “What! Did you do the impossible and develop magic powers and a deep understanding of them in the past five minutes? Get bent!”

  As I stood in the circle—relaxed and confident in my lack of powers—I watched the Paragon’s spry movements. There was something about him…His words were more modern than I’d heard from some werewolves, and his movements weren’t just quick, they were liquid—effortless. Was he really as old as he appeared? Fae were capable of deception. He could use magic to cover his true appearance.

  “Right, then. We’ll begin,” the Paragon said. “This shouldn’t hurt.”

  Suddenly I was a lot more alert. “Shouldn’t?”

  “Well, I’ve never done anything like this before, so I can’t be certain. Hah-hah!” He sheepishly scratched his cheek.

  Alarmed, I shifted and considered edging out of the circle.

  In an instant Killian was standing behind the Paragon, his red eyes narrowed on me. He held up a finger and slightly shook his head, his orders clear. I was to stay.

  I swallowed as glowing stars from the ceiling started to drop, putting me in a personal star shower. Whenever a star hit me it spattered me with liquid light, which glowed gold and bronze for a few moments before seeping through my clothes and into my skin.

  It was warm, but not unpleasant, and I tilted my head back to look up at the ceiling, getting star dust on my eyelashes.

  “Hmm. I’m not seeing any reaction yet,” the Paragon said.

  “Then look harder,” Killian growled.

  “That’s not how it works,” the Paragon began. “You see—”

  “Skip the lesson, and find her seal!”

  “Fine, fine—no need to be fussy! Just wait—oh!”

  Chapter Eight

  Hazel

  Lines of light formed, shooting from the little spatters the shining stars had made on my skin. They crossed up my body and congregated at my eyes, giving the world a golden haze.

  I felt my wizard mark surface—hot and sudden—but there was extra warmth on my face as well. That extra warmth alarmed me more than the giant unicorn horn or the foreign magic floating around me.

  A wizard mark is kind of like a magic-sensitive tattoo that only shows up when we tap into magic. It’s usually a pattern of swirls, shapes, or spikes, but more important than the design is the size—which indicates the level of power a wizard has. It’s why my single loop was considered shameful.

  But you’re born with your personal ability to hold and channel magic—there’s no improving it. There’s no changing your wizard mark, so what was wrong with my face?

  “Yep, she’s sealed alright,” the Paragon confirmed as he struggled to lean the giant horn against the wall. “In fact, I think I recognize that magic!”

  The circle of light faded, then died out as the Paragon strode over to his desk and started rummaging through its drawers.

  With the magic gone, the lines of light on my body disappeared, as did the spots the little stars had left, and the warmth of my wizard mark.

  I barely noticed—I was staring at the busy Paragon. Surely I had heard him wrong? There was no way I had sealed magic! Numbly, I shook my hair out and brushed off my clothes just in case there was any remaining magic, and stepped out of the circle.

  Celestina gave me a brief smile as she came to stand by me. I was actually glad for her nearness. She was tall, and there was something comforting about her big presence after…this.

  Killian, it seemed, preferred to hound our host. He planted his hands on the Paragon’s desk as the older man paged through a ledger. “What did you find?”

  “Ah-hah, yes, here it is!” The Paragon plopped his ledger on his desk and tapped an entry. “It seems my predecessor sealed you himself, Adept Medeis.”

  “What?” My shock made me clumsy. I almost tripped over my own feet as I crossed the workshop so I could stare at the paper.

  Most of the notes were written in the curving script of the language of Fae, but even I could recognize the entry which was dated with the human calendar, and marked with my parents’ signatures.

  “My parents asked him to?” I yelped.

  “Seems like it.” The Paragon set his glasses aside and peered down at the ledger. “Says here they brought you in when you were still a toddler. According to the report, they asked my predecessor to lock up all except the tiniest bit of your magic abilities.”

  “I have to sit down,” I muttered. There was an incessant buzzing noise in my ears, and the room seemed to move around me.

  I had more magic? But my parents had arranged for me to have it sealed? I glanced back at the ledger, certain it was a trick. But in addition to their familiar signatures, I saw my father had scrawled a sketch of the House coat of arms next to their signatures, marking it as an official agreement between the Paragon and House Medeis.

  Something in my gut rolled, and I felt sick. My legs shook, but I locked my knees and stiffly shuffled until I could plop down in the nearest chair.

  “I’m sorry to say it doesn’t give a reason why.” The Paragon thoughtfully tapped his ledger.

  “I don’t care why they did it,” Killian snarled. “What’s important is the seal. Can you remove it, or must it be broken?”

  “Um,” the Paragon said.

  “Um?” Killian repeated in an icy voice.

  I was barely aware of their argument. I bent over, my head hanging between my knees as I just tried to breathe.

  “It doesn’t give any conditions for breaking the seal, or any instructions,” the Paragon said.

  “Your predecessor was so sloppy he didn’t make any notes?”

  “We Paragons take pride in our work!” The Paragon preened, then almost jabbed himself in the eye when he tried to push his glasses, which were still on the desk, up his nose. “We don’t often take private clients, but when we do all is done to their specifications. In this case Rand and Rose of House Medeis signed a silence clause. Only they and my predecessor know the details of the seal, and they are all unfortunately dead.”

  “If you cannot break it, then remove it,” Killian ordered.

  “If a lesser fae had made the seal I could, but I’d not risk it on my predecessor’s work. He was a wily, shifty old man,” the Paragon said, sounding not very Paragon-like. “It’s unlikely to work, and far more likely that she’d die—which would do you no good.”

  Killian growled, and I finally managed to sit up.

  I was still shocked—this changed everything in my life for the good, but I was dimly starting to realize what it meant.

  My parents had lied to me about my magic for years. They saw me get bullied and picked on for my lack of magic, and they never told me the truth. Even now, when I was an adult!

  But I also realized that my present situation—with Killian Drake and his “interest” in me—was pretty treacherous, and I needed to be aware of what he was saying—or about to do to me.

  “How, then, can she remove it?” Killian asked.

  The Paragon retrieved his ledger and snapped it shut. “Based on my predecessor’s limited notations, it seems that the seal has a condition on it—a requirement she must meet or perform. If she meets that condition, her magic will be freed.”

  Killian raised one dark eyebrow. “You don’t know what the exact condition is?”

  “The ledger doesn’t say, no.”

  “Exactly what good are you?”

  “That was hurtful!”

  “You seem to be under a delusion that I care.”

  The Paragon sniffed and stuck his nose in the air. “I’ll see that I remember this whenever you ask
me for a favor.”

  “You have yet to actually be helpful,” Killian said. “All you did is confirm Medeis has more magic. You can’t break her seal, and you won’t take the Night Court in hand and get them under control—”

  “I am the top fae representative, not the fae emperor!”

  “There hasn’t been an emperor in at least 50 years,” Killian impatiently said. “You’re as close as it gets.”

  The Paragon looked like he wanted to rip Killian a new one—he seemed a bit taller and wider in the shoulders than when we first met him, so he probably was wearing a disguise—and as much as I would like to see that, the seal did concern me.

  “Could you make a guess?” I asked.

  The fae swiveled around to face me and blinked. “Pardon?”

  I forced myself to stand and took in a deep breath. I had to handle this—I didn’t have my House at the moment, and it was possible the Drake Family would make things worse. I needed to be calm—even though my head still buzzed. “The seal.” I said. “Could you make a guess what its breaking condition is?”

  “Oh. Well. Stereotypically, if a seal is placed on a person who is not a criminal, the breaking condition is that their life is in danger, or that they are being attacked. There’s a chance…” He trailed off when he saw my face.

  I shook my head. “I’ve been attacked twice in the last week.”

  The Paragon glared accusingly at Killian. “Are you doing a crappy job of taking care of your servants?”

  Killian folded his arms across his chest with the grace of a panther. “I did say she sought me out.”

  “And they say we fae are evasive,” the Paragon grumbled before facing me. “True love’s kiss is a popular seal in fae culture, but given your age I’d guess it wasn’t yours. Taking into account the secrecy, it’s fairly likely the condition was set by your parents, in which case your guess would be better than mine. I assume you know them well, which makes you more likely to guess what sort of condition they would set.”

  An hour ago I might have agreed, but I didn’t know anymore. Did I really know my parents? I mean, how could they hide something like this from me? What other secrets did they have that I never knew about?