I looked away. An awkward silence followed.
Cora exhaled. “You’re not staying, are you?”
Her words sounded so similar to Zak’s, yet her tone unlike my little brother’s rang with sympathy.
I tried to smile. I’m sure it came out as a grimace. She deserved my honesty. “No. I’m not who I was before. Before will never exist again for me. I’ve seen things, I’ve done things . . . There’s only now and, if I’m very lucky, a long future with Twig. It’s not fair to you, but I don’t want my wounds reopened, and being here makes me bleed.” I forced myself to meet her gaze.
Cora’s eyes shimmered with tears again. “So, why did you come back?”
“I wouldn’t have, if I didn’t need closure and to do research.”
“Research?”
“Yeah, it’s a long story.” I told her anyway. When I’d given her the bare bones of our dilemma, I added, “Twig’s part fairy, though his dragon side is waaay dominant, and his dragon wants to mate. I’m looking for a solution.”
“What if there isn’t one? Will you give up your magic?”
“What? No! Why would I do that?” My eyeballs had to be bugging out of their sockets.
“Well, you said you love him and he needs this, right?”
“He’d like it.” No sense telling her about Twig’s struggle to control his dragon. I wanted them to be friends and scaring her wasn’t the best way to encourage that. “So would I, just not at the expense of my magic. Why? Would you in my place?”
“No.” She chewed her bottom lip.
“I hear a ‘but.’”
“Men aren’t typically magical. We can agree on that, right?”
“They used to be.”
“Granted. But not now. For whatever reason, men aren’t good hosts. I’m not saying women are better than men. And you know I’m not a magicusist. Whether or not you have magic, everyone deserves the same protections and rights. I’m only saying that magic resides in loads of women but not in any men. Until you.”
“And you see this as a problem?”
She gripped my face in both hands and pulled me down so we met at eye level. “I don’t care about your magic the way the Council does.”
“So what do you care about?”
“You, Broomsparkle. I care whether it will eventually hurt you. If you aren’t equipped for it, I’m afraid it will destroy you. I just got you back. I don’t want something bad to happen.”
“Why would it hurt me?” I pulled away from her grip so I could see her better.
“It seems obvious. No wizards in a thousand years. There must be a reason.”
“Not a single account that I’ve seen mentions a problem with men’s magic once we have it. For some reason the magic just disappeared.”
She wrinkled her brow. “I’m not so sure. Hallewell and most of the other reis seem to think it could be a problem. I’ve overheard them talking. Quinn, the scenarios are grim. It’s one reason Simone, I mean, Rei Vosen, wants to test your magic. She’s hoping if something is wrong, they’ll be able to help you.”
“I’m sure it has nothing to do with wanting to know how powerful I am.” Sure, right.
“Well, they’re not completely altruistic. Still—”
“I have a hard time believing my magic will—what?—turn against me. It feels . . . right. And I’ve already had to use it on numerous occasions to survive. If it was going to happen, it would have already done so. More likely the Council’s problem with my magic has to do with an unknown quantity in their midst.”
“Goddess, I hope so. I can’t stand the thought of something bad happening.” She squeezed my hand briefly.
“You can’t tell Hallewell—or anyone else—about my mating dilemma. I don’t want the Council to know anything about me except what I choose to share. I know it puts you in a weird position, but at least for now, I’d appreciate silence.” I leaned away so I could make eye contact.
“You know I wouldn’t spill your confidences. Though if anyone could mobilize the resources to help you find your answers, it would be the Council. Hallewell’s so much more trustworthy than you’re giving her credit for. She wants to do more for nonmagicals, both men and women. She has amazing ideas. If you’ll give her a chance, you’d like her.”
“I’m sure you’re right. Still, I’m not ready to take her into my confidence yet. Maybe at some point. So keep it to yourself for now, ’kay?”
“Lips sealed.” She mimed locking them.
“You said that when you spilled the kelpie beans about Antha Naxxremis’s crush on Saffron Angelsin. I lost a friend over that.”
“Quinn, I was nine.” She shoved my shoulder playfully. “I’ve kept all your secrets since. Not speaking to me for three days was punishment enough. Even then, you were a hard-ass.”
“Ha! I was a sweet, fluffy kitten. You were the hard-ass.”
“I might resemble that remark.” She snuggled against me. She appeared so tiny that it would be easy to mistake her for being frail. “I’m sorry for what happened, Quinn. If I could have made things different for you, I would have.”
“Yeah, I know that, Cora. This trip has been stressful, though seeing you brings back good memories—”
Quinn! Twig’s panicked voice echoed in my head.
I froze. What is it? What’s wrong?
Nothing.
Dragon, what’s going on?
Silence.
18
“Quinn, what is it?” Cora gripped my sleeve. “You stopped speaking. And your face . . . It’s gone pale. Is everything okay?”
It took me a moment to come out of my head enough to answer her. My eyes remained closed as I reached for Twig. I could feel his worry . . . and distress. But over what?
“I don’t know, Cora . . .” I opened my eyes. What could I tell her? I didn’t even know what happened and I hadn’t mentioned Twig’s and my ability to communicate silently. Not the time to be spilling any more secrets. A partial truth then. “I can feel that Twig is upset. Something’s wrong.”
“You’re sure?” Cora leapt up. “Do you need the guards? I should tell the High Rei—”
“No! I don’t know what’s wrong, just that something is. It could be anything.” And wasn’t that the truth? Twig, I thought, can you hear me? Please tell me you’re okay.
Before he could answer, a loud thud against our door had me calling upon my magic. Cora squeaked, her hands coming in front of her in a defensive stance, magic crackling across her skin.
“Wizard, let me in.” Twig’s voice came muffled through the door. It didn’t sound right.
I rushed to the entryway, threw back the bolts, and practically tore the door from its hinges. Twig stumbled forward, almost falling, before I gripped his forearms. He weighed a ton. Still, I managed to steady him.
“Twig!” A fine white powder covered my familiar from top to toe, and his hands scrubbed at his eyes. He coughed, then wheezed, trying to suck in air. “What in cockatrice’s curses happened to you?”
“H-help me to the bath. I need this infernal stuff off my skin.” Twig continued to swipe at the powder on his face, only making it worse. His eyes were mere slits, and lava-like tears ran down his cheeks. His wheezing concerned me more than anything.
Stepping close, I wrapped an arm around his waist and attempted to drag him forward. He stumbled and we banged into the wall as I hauled him down the corridor to the bath. “Cora, lock the door and stand guard. I’m not taking any chances.”
“Quinn, what’s that powder?” Cora called after us, my bracer sensing the crackle of her magic as she took up position. “It could be poison. You shouldn’t be touching him.”
She had a point, but I couldn’t leave Twig defenseless and in pain. A coughing fit banged us into another wall. I wrestled him into the washroom and then into the giant claw-foot tub, clothing and all. A crystalline faucet and pump sat at one end, and I began pumping water into the tub like my life depended on it. “Just give it a minute.”
As the basin slowly filled, I worked the handle with all I had, until he sat partially submerged in water. Then I began splashing water on his face, grabbing a washcloth to wipe the powder away. Once I started, Twig allowed me to tend to him, keeping as still as his coughing would allow.
I used a silver pitcher to scoop and pour water over his head. As the powder sluiced off his hair and face, his cough abated, though his eyes remained swollen. I stepped into the tub and tugged at his clothes. He helped me remove them piece by piece. I continued to pour water over him, grabbing soap and lathering his long hair. I wouldn’t leave a single grain of that powder on him.
Once I rinsed his hair, he loosely plaited it, keeping his eyes tightly shut. I soaped the rest of him, my own clothes now soaked through. It couldn’t have taken more than a few minutes, but in that time we hadn’t spoken a word. Not until he put his thumb on my bottom lip and pulled it from my teeth did I realize I’d been gnawing on it.
“Perdition, punishment, and perversions, you scared me, dragon.” I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed him tight, water sloshing over the rim of the tub.
He returned my embrace, his eyes not quite as puffy, and then started stripping off my clothing.
I huffed. “Do you really think this is the time or the place?”
“I don’t want that powder touching you.”
I couldn’t argue with that. He continued to tug my clothing off until I stood as naked as he. I drained then refilled the tub before sinking down in his lap. Twig then poured water over my head, making sure to thoroughly rinse me. I took over scrubbing myself until my skin shone a rosy hue. We climbed out of the basin together and wrapped ourselves in oversized towels that even fit Twig’s large frame. Draining the tub again, I pumped more water to get rid of whatever powder remained.
When we entered our bedroom, we found that Cora had laid out fresh clothing for us both. I could have kissed her. We donned our clothes, leaving clasps undone and tunics unlaced. Neither of us bothered with stockings or boots. After we returned to our sitting room, Cora rushed to my side.
“Are you both okay? Do you know what that powder was? I scooped some from the floor and put it on a dish. We need to get the High Rei involved. She’ll want to know someone attacked you.”
“I don’t know that I was attacked,” Twig said, squeezing the last drops of water from his damp hair, his voice gravelly but looking almost his normal robust self again. “I’m not exactly sure what happened.”
That’s when I remembered Zak. I gripped Twig’s arm. “What about Zak? Was he with you? Is he okay?”
Twig’s eyes narrowed. “The brat may have done this to me.”
“What do you mean, ‘he may have done this?’ Why would he dump that powder all over you?”
“I’m trying to tell you, wizard. Give me a chance to get my thoughts in order.”
I stuffed my hands in my armpits. Now that Twig proved to be safe, I needed to know what happened and where Zak fit into all this.
“So,” Twig rubbed at his chin, his eyes distant. “Zak showed me around town, and then we visited the tavern where he works.”
“You didn’t corrupt him, did you?” I teased, trying to lighten the moment and not show my impatience or worry.
He knew me too well for that, his gaze becoming sharp.
“Corrupt him? Wizard, you should worry that he’ll corrupt me! You should see the tavern he works at . . .” Twig read my scowl and cleared his throat. “I mean, it’s nice. A, um, family-run business. Not full of pirates, at all. Much. Nice ones only. Mostly. I only put down two.”
“Uh huh.” Well, I’d see what I could do to find Zak a better life. If he’d let me. I made a get-on-with-it gesture.
“So, not helping then?”
“What do you think, dragon?” Tension crept into my shoulders, and only partly because of Zak’s questionable job.
Twig cleared his throat again. “Anyway, I might have told him that a tavern was no place to work. I may have mentioned that you would want him to be safe. He might not have taken that so well.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, he may have told me to go to hellafuck in a handbasket. And he might have stormed off.”
“And you let him?”
Twig glared. “Not exactly. I mean, yes, initially. When he didn’t return, I went looking for him. You know he wears that amulet, so I focused on it and followed my senses.”
“And? Don’t drag it out, Twig. I’m worried.”
“I found the amulet on a barrel in an alleyway. But no Zak. When I touched it, that powder exploded all over me. I couldn’t see and felt disoriented.” Twig tapped a clawed finger against his lips. “Now that I think of it, all my senses dulled. I almost shifted because it startled me and upset my dragon. I didn’t want to break the Cairnsdaught Accord, well, not in the first couple of days. I figured I could wait at least a week to cause an inter-realm incident.”
“Twig, focus. What do you mean, it dulled your senses?” I had a bad feeling about this.
“I could still shift, obviously. Maybe that was the point? Maybe someone wanted me to break the accord.”
I nodded and urged him to continue. “And your senses?”
“Yeah, I couldn’t see, but more than that, my sense of smell and even my hearing dulled. And I couldn’t draw a firm breath. Like it extinguished my fire.”
I rubbed my brow. Dammit. Why would Zak do that? Or was it Zak?
Twig’s eyes narrowed. “You know something.”
“It’s most likely candied hydra-bone powder.” I picked up the plate with the powder and sniffed it. Smelled like CHB powder, and it brought back a memory of sitting with my grandmother in her studio as she worked. Wetting my pinky, I put a dab on my finger, then tentatively put it on my tongue. Nodded.
“My grandmother used to make this. In case of dragon attacks. Not offensive so much as defensive. To give us time to hide. It’s hard to compound, and a batch takes almost a year to produce. There’s a long magical fermentation process. Few apothecaries carry it—or have the expertise on hand to make it—though I’m sure there’s a small surplus now that the accord is in place.”
“So you think Zak used it on me?”
I worried my lip. “It’s expensive and rare. Why would he do that? And my grandmother gave him that amulet. I can’t see him willingly giving it up. Do you still have it?”
“Hold on, wizard.” Twig strode back toward the washroom.
“What are you going to do?” Cora broke in, and I jumped. I’d forgotten her presence entirely, so focused on my little brother’s disappearance.
I turned to her. “Please send the reis my deepest regrets. I need to check on Zak. If he’s simply throwing a teenage hissy, I’ll wring his neck. But I have to be sure. Something could have happened to him.”
Cora looked skeptical. “Like what?”
“I don’t know, but my return seems to have put a lot of things into motion.”
“Quinn, you can’t dodge the Council forever.” Cora stepped close, poking my chest with surprising strength for such a slender finger. “Let them help you. There are so many resources at the Council’s disposal. Talk to Hallewell and stop making excuses. If you don’t want to stay, tell her. Perhaps there are other options. I swear, she’s reasonable.”
I rubbed where she’d poked me. “I’ll take your words to heart, Cora. I will. But right now, I need to find Zak.”
Cora sighed. “Okay, just remember that you need allies. Blowing off the Council won’t endear you to them.”
I shrugged. “Family first.”
“I’ll send your regrets and let them know why. Make sure you update me when you get back. They’ll want to reschedule at the earliest opportunity and assign you palace guards if this turns out to be something more than an angsty teen with a grudge.” We moved to the suite exit.
I groaned internally. No way in the bloody blue moons I’d allow guards to follow us around. “Can’t wa
it.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
I closed the door after her, not denying it. I’d rather have my teeth pulled by an orc with a rusty spoon, than spend more time with the Council of Divine Magic or their guards.
Twig returned, holding Zak’s amulet. It glimmered, the yellow gem sparkling even in the low lighting. Taking it, I examined the talisman. When I looked up, Twig wore a puzzled expression.
“What?”
“Your magic feels . . . different. Muted. Can I hold the amulet again?”
I didn’t feel any different with it in hand. I passed it to him. “Better?”
“Yeah, now I can sense your magic strongly.” He offered it back, and I took it once again.
“And now?”
“Muted.” Twig circled me. “Definitely. If I wasn’t your familiar, I’m not sure I’d even sense that you have magic. And does it mute magic or does it hide magic? Or both?” Twig tilted his head, considering.
“That’s an odd, huh.” I called a fireball in my other palm. I had to increase my concentration, and it came up small and not very powerful. It wouldn’t do much damage in a fight. I dispersed it. “It mutes my magic.”
“You said, when you first tested, your magic seemed weak, right? It’s not weak now. Did you wear your amulet during the trials?”
I thought back. “Yeah, I never took it off. My grandmother gave it to me shortly after I arrived at Befsarry. She called it a family heirloom and said that I should never remove it.” I put my hand to my throat. “After I failed my tests, they took it. Not allowed to keep most of my possessions.”
“So perhaps—”
“My grandmother wanted to disguise the strength of my magic. But why? And why would Zak have one like mine? That would mean . . . Burn me, Twig, he’s a wizard!”
19
The Lower Isle remained as I remembered it, while being nothing like I remembered. Heat shimmered and rose from the baking streets, along with the stench of too many people in too small a space. After the sterility of the citadel, I wrinkled my nose at the variety of smells. Not that different from the Elder, though Lighthelm was more prosperous than any city in the Hominus Realm. The number of people in threadbare clothes, barefoot, and in many cases clearly homeless, struck me in a way it hadn’t in the past. Were there more of the poor than before, or was I simply more aware of them now?
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