The New Improved Sorceress

by Sara Hanover

  “Devious and perfect. I think we can handle that. We’ll get word to him, but when we do, I want Tessa protected and not out of anyone’s sight.”

  “Done.”

  I could feel a frown setting in. “I want to be there. Scout might need me.” And I hated being left out.

  Carter shook his head. “Not wise. He knew he wanted you before as a hostage and if you’re exposed to him again, he might figure out exactly why.”

  Aunt April frowned. “Why would he want Tessa specifically?”

  “Because of this.” I showed my palm to her in all its marble-embedded glory. My great-aunt sat back rigidly.

  “Great Matilda,” Aunt April snapped. “Did you do that to yourself? Like a tattoo or one of those spools?”

  “Ah. No. Not exactly. It’s a talisman, like a charmed ring or something.”

  “But it just happens to be a piece of marble sunk into your hand.”

  I beamed at her. “Exactly.”

  And then Hiram, Carter, and Brian leaned forward, talking all at once and trying to explain to her it wasn’t as bad as it looked but that the elves might think it intriguing, which would not be a good thing, and I think she understood that but also thought there was more than they were saying. She took it in, anyway, not bad for a beginner in her first night of learning modern magic. Of course, with Potion Polly for a grandmother, Aunt April might have had a leg up on the whole learning process.

  Steptoe, however, had gone curiously quiet. While everyone else discussed the proper timing to reach Devian and make their offer, he slid the remaining photocopies over to himself and studied one intently. He seemed to pale, which caught my attention. His hand, when he lowered it over the main copy, shook.

  “How could you not tell me?” he asked me quietly.

  “Not tell you what?”

  He moved his hand, revealing the copy. “This wot.” The picture was of that obsidian choker, the jet necklace that curved about, ending in the token of a spade. I hadn’t realized I’d snapped that shot.

  “That was another piece of jewelry in the case with the Eye. Clever, isn’t it?”

  “Clever?” His voice rose above everyone else’s. “Clever? That necklace, that cunning bit of jewelry, is my tail—barb and all!”

  “Your tail?”

  He glared at Aunt April. “Did you not ’ear me? Tail! Mine! Barbed as any demon’s tail should be, and you,” he glared at me. “Didn’t think to tell me you’d found it!”

  And that’s when my great-aunt keeled over.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  DEARIE ME

  “I THOUGHT SHE did marvelously well up until that last bit.”

  The kitchen had cleared, everyone had departed, my mom had driven Aunt April home and returned, and we sat in the living room with our heels on the coffee table. Marvelously fragrant and hot, mugs filled with tea and brandy and honey rested in our hands while Brian rattled around doing something or other upstairs.

  “A demon is a bit much for anyone.”

  I blew across the surface of my mug before taking a bracing sip. We wouldn’t have had brandy with our teas, but Mom had gotten it out to fortify Aunt April and we decided that sounded like a good idea, so here we were fortifying ourselves as well. Mom sat with her fingers circling her mug.

  “I just wish he could have refrained.”

  The tea felt so good going down my throat and warming my stomach. “He was in shock, I think. That I’d found it and not told him. Or overlooked him or whatever.” I tilted my head. “I really would never have recognized it for his missing tail.”

  She put her mug down. “We did hit her with a lot tonight.”

  “Absolutely. Ghost in the basement and all.”

  “She did ask.”

  “But,” and I paused to take another sip. “I don’t think she realized what she had asked for. The extent of everything.” I drew a ring in the air.

  “True.”

  I leaned forward to put another shot of brandy in, and my mother tapped the back of my hand. “No.”

  “No?”

  “You’re in training.”

  “Oh. Right.” I knew there was more to it than that. Her side of the family had a few permanently drunk uncles, and she didn’t want to see me go their way, but seriously? I’d had enough drama for the night, though, so I let it go. To be fair, she didn’t freshen up her tea either.

  Finished, I took the mugs into the kitchen and nearly dropped them in the sink when Steptoe appeared out of the corner.

  “Simon!”

  “Sorry, ducks.”

  “Are you . . . are you all right?”

  He gave a half bow. “I am . . . most . . . apologetic. I thought the worse of you, just for a moment. Old ’abits, I’m afraid.”

  “You’ve had centuries being with the worse, so I guess it’s understandable. We’ll get your tail back.”

  “Did they take it?”

  I thought hard before shaking my head slightly. “I don’t know. It was in the case with the Eye, and Devian might have filled his pockets with other items, but the only thing I saw him carrying, for sure, was the ruby.” I rinsed the mugs out and put them to the side. “He probably would have recognized your tail, though?”

  “I would think so. Be a stupid bloke if he ’adn’t. Not that he would have known it was mine, but he’d ’ave known what it was.”

  “Not stupid, but he was a bit occupied.” I put a hand on my hip. “So we don’t know if Devian’s crew took it or not.”

  “From th’ snaps you ’ave ’ere, it was in the same case.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then ’e probably took it. The bastige would have known ’twas something worth ’aving.”

  I knew Steptoe was either really tired or really worried because his accent came out so thick I had a little trouble understanding him. I went to the board in the hall where the car keys hung, took mine off, and tossed them at him. “If you need to go look.”

  The keys bounced off him and hit the floor. “I can’t go in there. I’d never get past their sniffers.”

  “I don’t think anyone else is in any shape to go with us.”

  He bent over, picked the keys up, and put them on the counter. “You’re not up to it?”

  “I barely got out of there last time. Mom and Carter would have conniptions if I went back without a lot of protection with me.”

  “Too right, that.” He gave a heavy sigh.

  “Although,” I began, thinking. “Neither of us needs to get out of the car . . .”

  “Wot?”

  “You should know if your tail was there or not if we pulled into the parking lot, shouldn’t you?”

  Steptoe considered me a moment before nodding. “I should, indeed, ducks. I should, indeed.” He snatched the keys up again. “Then let’s give it a go. You’re with me, right?”

  Thinking I should just go to my room and try to catch up on my sleep, I answered, “Of course, I am!”

  For some reason the second trip out went much faster than the first. Maybe it’s because I knew the way or maybe it was because Steptoe drove as if AC/DC was his copilot. Heavy metal blasting in our ears, we flew down the road, windows down, my hair streaming behind me. It was midnight dark when we pulled in the lot, with the moonlight rising right in our eyes, the casino’s neon on full illumination. Simon snapped the radio off. We sat in absolute quiet a moment while the car made settling noises, little pops and squeaks. I imagined it was complaining about the drive, compared to the little use the professor had made of it when he owned it.

  Steptoe said nothing. I finally turned to him. “Well?”

  He needn’t have said it, I could tell from his expression, “Nothin’. Not a cursed thing.”

  “Now we know.” I nudged him.

  “Devian has it.”


  “Somewhere. And he hasn’t made use of it yet because you’d know if somebody pulled your tail, right?”

  “Damn right, I would.” That brightened him up. “Now, ’e wouldn’t know if the demon belongin’ to that tail was ’ere or passed on, not until ’e tested it out a bit, and ’e hasn’t, so . . . we’ve got to get it back. Before . . .” and Steptoe went silent.

  “Before what?”

  “Before I go chaotic evil or some such.” He wrapped his hands about the steering wheel, his knuckles pale.

  “He can make you do that?”

  “Not exactly. He’d have to get ahold—look, ducks. The less you know the better.”

  I didn’t want to not ask questions but I had to respect that. “Home, then. And neither of us to worry unless the glop shows up in our backyard. Or whatever manifests. All we have to do is figure out how to get Devian to turn over the tail when he gives us the ruby and Scout.”

  “Nothing like a threesome,” Steptoe said, as he put the car back in gear and steered us toward the highway.

  About halfway back on the road, he said, “Smelled the professor lately?”

  I’d been almost asleep but that snapped me awake. “Smelled Brian?”

  “Like that, yup.”

  “As in . . .”

  “Aromatic. He’s wearing that jacket about, right-o?”

  “Well, yeah. It’s getting cooler nights, so Mom dragged one of my dad’s old coats out. He’ll probably get a knit cap in a few weeks.”

  “But he smells. Like . . . like redwood and juniper.”

  I had to think on it. “Likeeeee . . . well, yeah, juniper I guess. Kind of like a holiday spice. Shouldn’t he?”

  “I’ve been thinking on the way things ’appened at the casino. Now I can see why Carter didn’t attack Devian mano a mano, as it ’twere. He’s got a Society leash on ’im, that lad does, so he has to be very circumspect about magic and wot he uses and how and against whomever, so to speak.”

  “He does?”

  “Oh, aye. Carter can be very, very powerful. He denies it, but I still swear he’s a djinn. He’s got that ancient sun and desert magic about him. The Society is a little bit afraid of ’im so they give him a long lead, but he knows one misstep, and he’s under their lock and key. He must be very, very careful.”

  No wonder he seemed uptight. “They can take his power away?”

  “Not exactly, but they can try to put it down, see? Shut it off. Not that I think the lot o’ them can manage it, but it would lead to quite a brawl, and Carter wants t’ avoid that.”

  “Okay, so Carter could have taken on Devian but held back. What about Brian and his smell?”

  “The old man could have taken on Devian as well. Couldn’t have held him long, but tripped him up, no doubt. Even as Brian, he’s remembered enough tricks to try it. He’s always been a wily old cuss.”

  “But he didn’t.”

  Steptoe gave me a quick glance. “No? Then who freed you?”

  “The stone.”

  “Lass. We be friends here. You may not tell anyone else, but you can tell me.”

  I fidgeted in the passenger seat. I knew, though, if I asked him, that he wouldn’t tell the others. Not unless he suddenly went rogue or something, if his tail got yanked. “I reached for the stone.”

  Simon shook his head. “I can still see the glitter on your eyelashes, like. He pixied you.”

  “He did.” I took a deep breath. “All right then. Malender showed up. How or why, I don’t know. I couldn’t get a word out. If I could have, it wouldn’t have been his name. Suddenly, there he was, staring down Devian. I just happened to be in between them.”

  “Now that makes a bit o’ sense.”

  “It does?”

  “Indubitably.” He thought heavily for a bit.

  My head throbbed for a few seconds while I wished we’d just left the heavy metal channel echoing in the car. It would have been easier on me than this conversation. I tried again. “Why?”

  “Because someone had t’up and rescue you. Because Carter can’t use his power the way he wants, an’ the professor won’t.”

  Trying to keep up, I added, “Because of his smell.”

  Steptoe laughed. “No, no, not right, that one. Because he’s a bloody coward.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Because, luv, he’s got all that he needs to do the ritual, he carries it about in his pockets, but ’e doesn’t have the nerve to go through it.”

  “But—we still have to find everything.”

  “No.”

  “He told me we did.”

  “That was months ago. He’s been busy wi’out you.”

  “You mean he can build his phoenix pyre now?”

  Steptoe didn’t answer until two cars blew past us going the other way, then he said, “Pretty sure, I am.”

  “But you don’t know.”

  “I haven’t asked him. Have you?”

  Outside of the need for pixie dust, we hadn’t really talked about it for weeks. If he were hiding it, I don’t think he’d answer a direct question from either me or Steptoe. I wouldn’t look forward to the fire either, but, truth be told, I didn’t think I’d have the nerve to be a phoenix wizard under any of the conditions. “No, I haven’t. What makes you think he’s gathered everything he needs?”

  “Th’ desk in his ’ome.”

  “We went through that.”

  “Oh, you just thought you did. Secret drawers and all that.” Steptoe gave me a sly look.

  “Didn’t find any.”

  “’Course not. Secret.”

  I could see freeway exit signs telling us that Richmond was not far away at all now.

  “You knew they were there.”

  “Bet your brass buttons I did. Like my tail.”

  “I thought you sent your lads in to ask him where the tail was!”

  He took one hand off the wheel and laid a finger alongside his nose. “A wee bit of a lie, that were. I had finally peeled back some of the protections and could tell the old cuss had ’idden it there . . . think of it . . . for decades! Hidden it away from me. But I needed him to fetch it out of the house, from wherever he ’ad it secured. He wouldn’t do it for me. I’d begged him once or twice, so I sent me lads in. Now I know that one was working against both o’ us, for Zinthrasta, and forced events. The house and the professor went up in smoke. Wards still held, I could not get to my tail—and then it disappeared.”

  “Someone went through the study before we did?”

  “Too right.”

  “When?”

  “I’d say soon as th’ ashes cooled. Maybe even a touch before. I was too busy chasin’ down the professor’s head or new body to check the ’ouse out. By the time I did, the desk had been popped like a safe. That particular drawer, at any rate.”

  “Think the professor knew that?”

  “Had to ’ave.”

  I sat without words while he negotiated the right exit ramp and tooled us onto the residential streets of our end of town.

  “Why wouldn’t he give you your tail back?”

  “Said ’e wanted to keep me bound. I told ’im I was tryin’ th’ redemption side o’things, but he didn’t believe me, quite. Can’t say as I blame him. You believe me, though?”

  Tail or no tail, Simon was a lesser demon. However, he’d had my back in a number of bad situations, and I called him a friend. I knew he’d taken a chance telling me about the professor, not able to predict how I’d take it. I patted his shoulder. “I do,” I said.

  He beamed at me. “So wot are you going to do?”

  “Well, I’m not going to set him on fire, even if he asks.”

  “No?”

  I waggled my head. I had far more doubts about Malender than I did about Steptoe, however, and i
t seemed probable that the professor might feel the same. I don’t know if the professor had turned cowardly because he feared doing the hard thing that had made him a wizard throughout the ages, or if he wasn’t ready even if the demon thought he had everything lined up. It’s not like he would have a second chance to do a fiery rebirth over again if he did. “No. He has the right to decide if he’s going to do it, and Malender has already told me—and him—that he’s the spark. So whatever the professor decides, it’s Malender he’ll answer to and not me. Keep your peace about it, Simon. He’ll either rejuv himself—or he won’t.” Of course, with that came the realization that I might never get the information I needed to revive my father. Not unless the Iron Dwarves let Germanigold back into their lives so she could get Morty’s journals for me, and that seemed a real long shot as long as the Eye of Nimora stayed missing. I sighed.

  “I don’t like th’ odds o’ that. We need him, and soon. Th’ elves are getting bold, and I am thinkin’ that there are grave and dark times coming. A’course, th’ professor knows that as well, being himself or not.”

  He pulled into our driveway, stopped the car, and turned the headlights off. The evening shrouding us seemed to echo his gloomy statement.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  TEXAS REDHEADS

  I FELL INTO bed with the hope that I could sleep through whatever was left of the late hours and not go to battle with whatever might show up in a nightmare. Sunday morning meant I could sleep in. We used to be churchgoers, Mom and I, but all the whispers drove us away. They used to be: “Wonder if she killed him?” and now it was, “Poor woman. He’s never coming back. Wonder if they’ll find a body?” I couldn’t remember if we’d acted like that about other members of our parish, but I hoped not. Surely we hadn’t gone to church to be petty. So, Sundays meant late hours, catching up, and slow afternoons.

  Sleep did take me in, soundly and warmly and cozily—but someone forgot to tell the professor about my morning plans.

  The firm but quiet knocking sounded on my door insistently until I staggered to it and yanked it open. Brian stepped back, his eyebrow quirked, as if suddenly aware I might be in a bad mood. It could barely have been dawn.