I giggled, my mood lightening significantly, "Anywhere shiny and new that has free wi-fi."
"True story. Hey, isn't that Flix over there? Mona pointed toward Hunters, a big sporting goods store. "And Carl." She added, prompting a groan of irritation from me. The last time I had tried to get a hold of my best friend, he'd been knee-deep in new boyfriend quicksand, and I wondered if I'd ever get him back.
Flix looked up and blanched at the sight of me. Literally blanched. It's not easy to catch a Fae off guard. What the hell was going on? "Hey Lexi," he greeted me with a kiss on both cheeks, having reassembled his face into a welcoming smile.
"Hey," I kept my voice light and devoid of emotion, "Hello, Carl." The poor guy looked like he thought I might bite his head off. I knew it wasn't fair to take my irritation out on him, but I was too caught up in my own drama to care.
"Can I speak to you for a minute? It's about work." I raised an eyebrow in Flix's direction, knowing full well he could smell a lie just as easily as I could spit one out.
"Sure. Be right back," He nodded to Carl, who chatted conversationally with Mona and waved us away with a nervous smile.
"What is going on? Don't you know Kin and I broke up? I needed you, and you weren't there. Why?" I pleaded for answers, sick to death of trying to coerce people into telling my the truth--especially people I considered family.
Flix sighed, his eyes darting to where Carl and Mona were giggling conspiratorially, "I'm sorry about you and Kin. I know how hard this must be for you, and I know you've been going through a lot. I'm sorry I haven't been as available as I normally am. But I've got a life, too. Can you understand that? I'm happy for the first time in...well, a really really really long while. I've never gotten angry with you when your life has taken you away from me, and I'd hoped you could be happy for me."
I didn't know if I softened because he'd willed me to, or if I just knew in my heart, he was right. "I do get it, and I'm not really mad at you for being preoccupied. I'm more worried you're taking Kin's side. And I'd like to get to know Carl if he's this important to you. I feel like you've been keeping him away from me on purpose. Does he not like me or something?" I might have pouted a tiny bit.
"Stop worrying; I've told him so many good things about you, I think he's more worried you won't like him. We're in a bubble right now and I'm not ready to leave it yet. I need you to trust that I'm always there for you and that it'll all be okay in the end. Can you do that?"
What was I supposed to say to that? The weight of my own expectations felt heavy on my shoulders, and I knew Flix deserved to be cut some slack.
"Okay, then." I avoided meeting his gaze until Flix wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug.
"If you need me again, just call."
I let it go at that, retrieved Mona, and continued our shopping excursion while pretending not to think about how badly I wanted to drive to Kin's and tell him I'd do anything he wanted if he'd just take me back. Watching Flix and Carl saunter off hand-in-hand had driven a knife right through my heart. I wanted to go back to my own bubble.
I was just too stubborn to admit I was wrong.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Attending an engagement party that had ballooned into gala proportions wasn't high on my priority list for several reasons. First, Kin was slated to play for the happy couple. Second, I hadn't had a hand in uniting the lovebirds. And third, Kin was slated to play for the happy couple. Okay, it was only the two reasons, and the fact that the faeries put the event together wasn't enough to overcome either of them.
When I let Sylvana into the sanctum, it felt like I was sneaking around behind their backs even though this was my house and my sanctum now; I tended the Balefire flame. How my mother felt about having been passed over for the gig hadn't been discussed, but I felt the conversation looming like a dark cloud, just waiting to dump another torrential downpour in my lap.
For now, we had to find a way to unlock the door to the Shadow Hold that had so vehemently rejected Sylvana's touch. Clara's stash of ingredients and information was at the ready, and it seemed likely if she had left any clue at all, it would be here.
"The place hasn't changed much." Sylvana surveyed the room with cool, assessing eyes.
"Did you spend a lot of time here when you were young?" Exploring all the nooks and crannies also hadn't been on my priority list, much to Salem's disapproval, though I had been making more of an effort in the days since the split with Kin--mainly to stay busy during the unprecedented downtime at work. I'd also been looking for information on Shadow Hold. Sylvana still had bouts where she seemed shaken and pale after our first attempt to storm the castle, as I'd taken to calling it. It certainly looked like one, all stone outbuildings and turrets. I was surprised there was no dragon-filled moat surrounding the place.
"Enough," came the terse reply. "I know where all the skeletons are--or were."
"There are skeletons?" Silly me, for a split second I thought she meant the kind made of bones.
"And the closets they're stuck in, but that's not what we're here for right now, and as much as I appreciate Terra's willingness to heal me one time, we'd better make sure there's no need for it again." It sounded to me as though her appreciation went about as deep as a layer of makeup, but I was no longer willing to choose sides in a battle between the people I loved. All that had gotten me was one less boyfriend and a whole lot of hassle.
"I've looked through Clara's journals," I earned a mild sideways glance for using my grandmother's given name. "Came up empty. Maybe you'll have better luck since you're more familiar with the sanctum, or we could just figure out a way to hack the system."
"Hack the system? What an odd turn of phrase." I keep forgetting Sylvana had been living out of the loop. Way out.
"It means using non-magical methods of figuring out how to get inside." This whole operation reminded me of those heist movies that were big a few years back. "Maybe we could use something like fingerprint dust on the door to find where hands have touched it most recently."
"Fingerprint dust? Interesting idea."
"Assuming the powder sticks in the natural oils from skin and leaves a mark, that would give us the areas, but maybe not the order. What happens once we're inside? You said the place was full of booby traps."
"First step is to get inside, once we're in, everything from that point on is meant to test your resolve."
"I'm not sure I understand your meaning. If I've never met any of the keepers, how would they know anything about my personality or resolve."
Sylvana strolled around the room picking up things, looking at them, then putting them back down. What she was searching for, I couldn't imagine. "It's pretty standard stuff. A magical obstacle course, if you will. I went through it with Clara a few times, and it was always the same. Piece of cake. All we need to do is get inside."
Somehow her blithe assurance fell flat against the memory of the sound of her body hitting solid stone with a hollow thud.
"Let's talk more about the dust thing. What made you think of it?"
"Forensic shows are a big thing these days. They practically teach a person how to get away with a crime."
"What's it made from?"
"I'll show you. I just need a couple of things." A sliver of charcoal went into the mortar, and then I used a heavy stone to pound the wood off a bit of pencil. The graphite joined the charcoal to be ground into to powder with a few bashes of the pestle. Finally, I selected a soft brush from a drawer full of odds and ends. "Pick up that glass beaker." Sylvana complied. "Set it back down."
I fluffed the charcoal over the glass to bring out her fingerprints.
"Didn't you ever watch any cop shows back in the day? This is an old staple."
She gave me a quirk of a smile. "Not much. Television was never my thing. Some people watch, some people do things worth watching."
"Oh." A little cocky.
The fireplace groaned, and the wall around it cracked open. Salem rose up on his h
ind legs, morphing into human form as he stalked toward me. I'd forgotten about him when I'd invited Sylvana into the sanctum. Honestly, was it too much to ask that the people in my life get along--at least a little bit?
"What are you doing?" His tone reflected innocent curiosity, but I wasn't fooled.
"If I tell you, you can't rat me out to the faeries."
"If you don't tell me, I'll just follow you and find out for myself. No deal. My job is to keep you safe." He cast a glare at Sylvana that plainly said her priorities needed sorting out. "And what is she doing here?"
"Salem!" I exclaimed, "that's enough!"
"Lexi is safe with me." It must have been a testament to how badly she wanted to get on with the task at hand; I had yet to see Sylvana back down from a confrontation.
"Yeah? Where's your familiar, then?"
Sylvana's eyes refused to meet Salem's, and she changed the subject abruptly. She wasn't about to tell him anything more personal than her name, and I had my doubts she'd have even given that up willingly.
"I think we could adapt your fingerprint powder to something that detects the traces of where magic touched the door."
"What door?" Salem insisted on being filled in, so I told him what door and his eyes nearly fell out of his head.
"Shadow Hold? Are you serious? You can't go there; I forbid it."
"There's no choice; I'm meant to retrieve the Bow of Destiny, and that's where it's being kept. Sylvana's helping me and you can do the same or I'll lock you in here until I get back. It's not up for discussion." I held up a hand to stop him from protesting further. "I have to do this, Salem, and I don't think you have the power to forbid me from doing it."
What I didn't say was that this destiny was one I felt I could embrace. Well, depending on how that bow actually worked. I know witches are supposed to be comfortable around blood; we use it in spells when we have to because that's where the magic lies, but I'm not a guts and gore kind of gal. If pelting people with love's arrows turned into that type of pursuit, I'd have to rethink my options.
Sylvana held up the beaker with the fingerprints, "It won't matter if we can't retrieve the bow, so maybe you should pay a bit more attention to your spellwork and potion making than placating your little helper." The sharp edge to the words sparked a flare of rebellion that I quickly tamped back down. My mother was here to help, and I should listen to her.
"Now we need to add the magic component. What can we bind the charcoal with?"
"Nothing incendiary," both Sylvana and Salem chorused, shooting each other narrow-eyed glares before quickly looking away.
"Let's start with salt; it's a basic ingredient for most divination spells, and the sodium should have a grounding effect on the charcoal. The problem is, we don't have any way to test it."
"I can take care of that." Sylvana disappeared behind a row of shelves. We quickly followed the sound of something creaking open and turned the corner just in time to find her rooting around in a trunk tucked into a recess I hadn't yet discovered. "Remember what I said about skeletons? This one happens to be one of mine."
She pulled a silver plated chest about the size of a shoe box out of the trunk and brought it over to the alchemy table. "I was about thirteen when I cast the protection spell on this box; there's nothing more than childhood trinkets inside, and the hex wouldn't have been potent enough to harm anyone after all this time. Still, it's a similar spell to what my darling mother would have used on the door. We should be able to fashion something usable with it."
I was more than curious to see what trinkets my mother would have considered worth protecting as a young girl. The chest was old; probably a priceless antique, though taking into account what else was housed under the sanctum roof, its worth probably paled in comparison. Sometimes I felt like Clara's ghost resided in this space; I could see her flitting from shelf to shelf, preparing potions, standing in the center of the large casting circle while performing great and powerful (and possibly unspeakably evil) spells.
Now, the ghost of my mother's past had joined her, running through the stacks and picking up discarded baubles to keep in her treasure box. The bigger my world got, the smaller and more inconsequential I felt, as if the childhood I'd been mourning had never been mine, to begin with. Maybe, someday, all the pieces of the puzzle would click into place, and I'd finally feel like I knew where I belonged.
"Okay, it's time," we all crowded around the box, and I dusted a thin layer of the mixture over the entire surface, watching as several fingerprints appeared.
I tentatively reached out to touch one, willing the box to open as my fingertip caressed the lid. A blast of red sparks shot from the clasp, and I deftly whipped my head out of the way. Crimson fire ricocheted off the shiny surface of a recently polished silver tray hanging on the wall behind me and landed on Salem, who immediately sprouted a pair of bird wings and began to lift off the floor. Images of Charlie and Grandpa Joe flashed through my mind as Salem floated toward the domed ceiling above the sanctum, panic turning his ebony skin to a greenish color as he flapped in an attempt to ground himself. Burping probably wouldn't be useful in this particular situation.
"Lexi, help!" He squealed while Sylvana doubled over into a fit of laughter. She flicked a finger and Salem thudded to the floor, landing on his feet in his cat form before launching himself at Sylvana's face, claws unsheathed and fighting for purchase.
"Enough, both of you. And you think I'm the one acting like a child." I admonished, forcing a mumbled I'm sorry from each of them. "We're missing something. All we're getting is regular prints, and who knows how many times this thing's been touched by non-magic hands."
"You're right; we need a catalyst."
"The mugwort infusion worked pretty well when we were scrying," I plucked a vial of powdered mugwort from one of the chock-full shelves and turned to my mother expectantly.
Sylvana nodded, "Mugwort is probably the best choice; it's got hallucinogenic properties and might reveal the magical residue along with the prints. Good job, Alexis."
"Add one part of that, and one part consecrated salt and grind it as fine as you can." I nodded silently at Salem's instructions, still internally soaring from Sylvana's praise, and did as I was told.
Again I brushed the mixture, which was now vibrating at a low frequency, onto the chest's lid. Tiny curling lines and swirls began to appear, finally coalescing into identifiable fingerprints--of a sort--that glowed with a blue-white iridescence.
Salem took a big step back as I reached out once more. This time, a couple of taps caused the clasp to flip open, and the lid to slowly rise. Sylvana snatched the box away before I could take a look inside.
"That's all we need to know about that." Her tone indicated that I shouldn't press the matter, so I respected her boundaries and decided to let it go. "Let's gather the rest of what we need; a magical grab bag, if you will, just in case."
A half hour later, we'd raided the supply cache for a few basics, loaded two backpacks with provisions, and dressed appropriately for a stealth mission. I'd fastened my father's compass around my neck and tucked it beneath my shirt for protection. I had a feeling I'd need it.
"There's just one more question I want to be answered." Well, that was an understatement and a half; I had an infinite number of questions I'd have loved to pelt her with, but only one that had been gnawing at me for the past few days. "Was Delta telling the truth; are there other Fate Weavers out there?"
Sylvana shot me a narrow-eyed look, "Why would you even ask that; not only has she followed you, harassed you, kidnapped you, and tied you down in an alley, but she's also drawn a sword on you and threatened me. Why would you take anything she says seriously? She's just trying to motivate you to find it faster--and if you seriously think she's planning on letting you keep it, you're even more naive than I thought you were."
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Gray skies wept a light drizzle over the drive to Shadow Hold, which I hoped was not a harbinger of worse t
o come. "Got any umbrellas in the back of this boat?"
"Afraid not. I've got a tent, but I don't think that's going to do the trick."
"It would if you could put legs on it."
"A walking tent? What kind of crackpot magic do they practice around here these days?" Sylvana took an extra long look in the rear view mirror, and I wondered if she thought we were being followed. Twisting in my seat, I saw nothing suspicious behind us.
"Forget it, but I don't think the powder is going to work on a wet surface. Shouldn't we just wait for a dry day?"
"You know that's not an option." Now she thought I was nervous or something. "Between Delta and Jett, we're playing beat the clock already."
"I'm just not a fan of my toes going all pruney," I ignored the flutter of nervous energy in my gut and muttered under my breath. Not for a moment would I admit that I was scared of getting zapped by something wicked my grandmother cooked up.
"Then put a spell on your shoes to make them waterproof."
"Can't. Goes against the rules."
"What rules? You mean personal gain? Don't get me started." Sylvana rolled her eyes. "Consider it for my benefit, then. I don't want to hear you complaining the whole way." When she put it like that, what choice did I have? While I was at it, I spelled my clothes, too. And my hair. After all, I shouldn't go to my possible death looking wet and bedraggled; a girl needs to look her best during times of crisis. Not that this was a crisis exactly, but it certainly was stressful.
Whether it was deliberate or not, I felt like Sylvana was holding something back. She'd been jumpy and cranky all day, and there had been none of the closeness we'd started to cultivate.
We pulled into the turnoff leading to the waterfall, and she killed the purring engine with a twist of her wrist. "Just remember, once we go through the door, the only way back is forward. We're prepared, and your magic is stronger than you give yourself credit for."
All Spell is Breaking Loose: Lexi Balefire: Matchmaking Witch (Fate Weaver Book 2) Page 18
