But today, my attention was elsewhere. The Council meeting was running a little long. Out of habit, I checked my empty wrist as Councilwoman Humbert wheezed on about the beer I'd brought her. But there was nothing to be done about my tardiness; I couldn't just walk out of the meeting room.
Cyrus, to my right, fidgeted just as badly as I did. Though he just hated when the attention wasn't on him. Although we were both thirty, he still hadn't lost his need to be the most important person in the room, even though he was nothing more than a councilman.
Finally, after another half-hour of dithering, Alexandra ended the meeting. I sprang to my feet, eager to get out the door before anyone could stop me. Unfortunately, Alexandra was quicker, appearing in my path with a curious look on her face. She now sported gray streaks in her brown hair, and a few extra wrinkles around her eyes, but she remained as powerful and formidable as ever.
"Somewhere to be?" she asked.
"Unfortunately," I said with a forced smile as I sidestepped her. "I'm in the middle of a time-sensitive experiment."
She sighed. "Very well."
I hid a smile as I transported away. No matter how many times I did so, it never failed to give me pleasure when I was able to leave the Guildmaster's attentions.
The tear crackled and sputtered as it always did, and I dove in, landing gracefully onto the sandy beach. Immediately, I transported myself into a house nearby, right onto the plush rug in the front hallway. I listened, knowing that, even if they hadn't felt me arrive, they would've heard me.
Two pairs of tiny feet scuffled against the floor—one much faster than the other. Around the corner, my precious daughters came into view. Nicole was three, with long brown hair that bounced as she ran, and Marie, fifteen months, whose running was more of a toddle.
I bent down as they leaped into my arms then stood, balancing the two of them on my hip. Nicole babbled on about her day, although I only understood about half of what she said. Marie simply squealed and giggled, desperately trying to keep up with her sister.
We ventured toward the delicious smells coming from the kitchen. There, my beautiful wife was pulling bread out of the oven. A pot of meat sauce and spaghetti sat on the stove as well.
"Finally," Mora said with an exasperated sigh. Her golden hair swung from a high ponytail, and her shorts—the same ones she was wearing when I left that morning—were covered in all manner of sauces and paints, as was her shirt.
"Tough day?" Gently, I put Nicole in her chair (she'd decided last week that high chairs were for babies) and set Marie in her chair with the tray. I summoned a jar of baby food from the fridge and a spoon from the drawer, placing both out of reach of the baby until we were all ready to eat.
"You try chasing a pair of toddlers all day and tell me how much you like it," Mora said, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. "Nicole peed in the hallway again, by the way. Your charmed diaper didn't work."
"Maybe now she thinks it's a game?" I asked, patting Nicole on the head as she grinned up at me.
"Game or not, I don't like cleaning up pee." She knelt down to look at Nicole in the eyes, her anger evaporating into a smile. "Especially baby pee. Do you hear me, munchkin? No more peeing in the hall. We go in the potty like a big girl."
"Pee in the hall!" Nicole chirped.
I stifled a laugh, and Mora sighed. "And how was your day back in the mothership?" she asked, walking to the stove.
"Same as ever." I went to the wine rack and chose a vintage, summoning a few glasses for the table. I uncorked the bottle magically and poured Mora a glass. "I'm sorry I was late. I tried to speed it along, but you know how they like to talk."
"I know." She crunched on a piece of bread. "Mom stopped by again."
I hid my annoyance as I spooned pasta and sauce onto Nicole's plate, magically slicing the noodles and meat into smaller pieces. "What did she want?"
"Mom's just…mom," Mora said. "She's freaking out because Marie already has magic and she doesn't know what to do about it."
Of that, I was well aware. There wasn't much I put my foot down about, but my children would not be magically bound until they were fifteen. It hadn't been as big of an issue with Nicole, whose magic was already contained to what she could do in a cauldron. But three weeks ago, I would've come to blows with Irene about Marie's burgeoning magic if not for my lovely wife.
"Then we'll be more careful," I said.
She reached across the table to take my hand, kissing it softly. "Yeah, and take a look at your daughter over there."
I turned just as a spoon rose from the baby jar and arriving in Marie's mouth. She hummed with excitement as the spoon returned to the jar then traveled back to her mouth.
"Look at the bright side," I said to Mora's pursed lips. "Feeding oneself doesn't usually happen until two or three in New Salem, so…" I decided wisely to end the rest of my sentence at her narrowed gaze. "So…I love you?"
"Uh-huh. Love me so much you leave me here to take care of these two for eight hours?"
"I'm sorry, my love," I said, taking her hand and kissing it. "I don't have a Council meeting for a few days. Why don't you go take a day to yourself tomorrow? A facial or massage perhaps?"
Mora surveyed me with a mix of amusement and annoyance. "You're lucky you're cute, baby."
I gazed into her exhausted eyes and pressed my hand against her cheek. What had begun as an explosive and frantic lust eventually had settled into a deep bond. It had taken me several years to get her to marry me, and several more before we'd had any children. Marriage and fatherhood were the most difficult—and rewarding—phases in my life. But after twelve years of exploring the world and two little girls, I could honestly say she could still make my heart race with that one look.
A loud belch broke the moment, as my three-year-old dissolved into giggles, quickly joined by a squeal from her sister.
"We also need a date night," I said, stabbing my fork into the pasta. "Badly."
"Yeah, and who's gonna babysit our two magical kids, huh?" Mora asked with a laugh. She turned to Marie and wiped her mouth with a damp cloth. "Our two crazy, messy kiddos."
"Jeanie could come up from school," I offered.
"Jeanie? Yeah, right. She hates kids," Mora said. "She's got about as much maternal instinct as my mother."
"Nina would watch them." Irene's sister was much less strict than her sister, and always offered to watch the girls.
"Nina…eh." Mora frowned. "I don't like asking her for too many favors. She's always been kind of weird to me."
"But she loves the girls."
"And that's weird," Mora replied. "I mean, don't get me wrong, our girls are great. But everyone else in the clan thinks they're ticking time bombs."
"Your mother thinks they're ticking time bombs." I didn't want to talk about Irene so I changed the subject. "I'll talk to Nina next time I see her. I miss you."
"Maybe you could take the kids with you next time you go to work," Mora said. "While we're on the subject of mothers."
"I'll tell her eventually," I demurred. And by eventually, I meant never. My mother would be horrified to know her two grandchildren weren't Warriors, or at least Charmers. But I'd also never told Mora the truth about what happened to children like Nicole in New Salem. And I had no plans to.
"Also, Uncle Ashley wants an update," Mora said. "Mom hinted he's annoyed we haven't gone looking for tear stuff in a while."
"Well, have you informed him we have two toddlers?" I said, sitting back and magicking the mess off the high chair and the faces of my daughters. "It's not like we have a ton of time to just wander around the world, reading books."
"Yeah, and didn't that used to be your favorite thing in the world?"
"I have a new favorite thing. Hanging out with my wife and kids."
"Well, you are in luck, cowboy. Because it's your turn to give them a bath," Mora said, taking her glass. She paused and kissed me sweetly. "Have fun."
I sighed, praying my girls woul
d be merciful, but knowing full well I'd need to charm my ears to keep the screaming from deafening me.
Twenty-One
I awoke the next morning with a bed full of children and a note from my wife informing me she'd gone to visit a girlfriend in Montreal for the day, but she'd left us a pot of oatmeal warm on the stove. Soon after that, Nicole kicked her sister in the face and we were all awake.
As they made a giant mess of breakfast in the kitchen, I sorted through the mail and caught up on the morning paper. I'd become a voracious reader of current events, once I'd gotten up to speed on what was current. Out the corner of my eye, I watched Nicole try to poke the baby with her spoon and magically removed it. A loud wail was my reward.
"Don't poke the baby," I said to Nicole.
"The baby poked me!" came the high-pitched retort.
I lowered the paper, looking at the cherubic face of my blonde child. "Marie, did you poke Nicole?"
The baby, predictably, had no idea what I was saying, and just laughed.
"Daddy, why don't I have magic?" Nicole asked.
"You have magic, princess," I said, putting down the paper. "Just a different kind. You can heal people and transport places and do everything I can. You just have to do it a different way." I summoned a damp cloth and wiped the pasty mess off her face. "You're a very powerful little girl. Never forget that."
That seemed to satisfy her, because she declared she was finished and wanted to watch cartoons. Unfortunately, I had other business to attend to, so I dressed them in their thickest coats for the brutal January weather, and we headed out in the snow. Nicole waddled ahead as well as she could, and I followed behind with the baby, using magic to catch the toddler when she slipped on the ice.
Nina's house was about a block away, which took us much longer in the heavy snow. We walked by Irene's house, which neither Nicole nor I mentioned. Instead, we made a beeline for the house next door, a stately manor with dead vines running up the sides.
"My girls!" Nina cried, opening her door. "Come see your Auntie Nina."
Nicole's jacket and snow pants disappeared in a puff of purple smoke, and she squealed as she ran into the kitchen, where something delicious was baking.
"I shouldn't be very long," I said, setting the baby on the ground. "Just a few minutes."
"Take as long as you…" She blinked as Marie's clothes—not just her jacket and snow pants, but her shirt, regular pants, and the diaper—disappeared. Stark naked, my one-year-old toddled into the kitchen after sister.
"Sorry about that," I said, running a hand through my hair. "She doesn't like wearing clothes lately."
"She's fine," Nina said with a smile. "Now don't worry about a thing. We'll have fun today."
I summoned a diaper, shirt, and pants to Marie's small body. Remembering what Mora had said about the girls' reputation, I cast a containment spell on Marie to keep her out of trouble, although it pained me to do so.
"That should help," I said to Nina. "I apologize. She's becoming more opinionated on what she wants."
"Opinionated little girls make for strong women," she said. "I swear, she looks just like Mora. We would've had as much trouble with her had she had magic at that age."
I couldn't disagree. "I won't be more than a few minutes."
"Take your time, Gavon, sweetheart."
I left my girls and transported across the small subdivision to the oldest house. There, I landed by the front door, as was customary, and called up the stairwell.
"Uncle Ashley?"
"In the library, my boy," came the feeble response.
I ascended the creaky stairs, went down the hall of portraits that never ceased to make the hairs rise on the back of my neck, and walked into Ashley's office. The old man sat at his desk, his skin sagging against his cheeks and his hair now a bright white instead of gray. Irene had been campaigning hard for him to step down—so I'd heard. She'd banished me from clan meetings, although Mora was still permitted to attend. But even though he'd aged, he was still as smart and commanding as the day I'd met him.
"Ashley, good to see you," I said, helping him sit down.
"Thank you, my boy. How are those girls?"
"They're three and one," I said with a heavy sigh.
"And magical, that certainly complicates things."
"Certainly," I said with a small laugh. "But nothing we can't handle. Mora had them all day yesterday, so she's run off with a girlfriend to Montreal for the day."
"I heard a rumor that Marie used magic in front of a nonmagical last week," Ashley said.
I started. "She…did? Mora didn't say anything about that."
"I'd imagine she wouldn't. This report came outside of Irene's grapevine, so I'm sure Mora wanted to keep it quiet."
"What did she do?" I asked. She was fifteen months old; what harm could she do?
"Summoned a toy, I believe."
I swallowed, a nervous dread growing in my stomach. "I'll tell Mora to be more careful when she's out with them. And I'll be more vigilant as well."
He nodded. "I'm not here to discuss your children, although I do enjoy listening to Nicole tell me about her drawings." He smiled, but I didn't share it. "How's your progress on the tear?"
"About the same," I said.
"Did you follow up with my friend in London?"
"Not yet." I tried not to look guilty. "It's been a little hectic with the girls lately. Time's slipped away from me."
I was no closer to finding a solution to closing the tear than I'd been when I'd made it. But if I were being honest, I didn't feel it to be a complete necessity anymore. Cyrus and the rest of the Council, including Alexandra, remained blissfully unaware of its existence. The only people who seemed preoccupied with it were Ashley and Irene.
"Gavon, people are starting to talk," he said. "We have to show them progress or else…"
"Or else what?" I said, knowing this was Irene's doing.
"I'd prefer not to find out," he said. "I know you must have some loyalty to your Guild, and I understand how hard it must be—"
"I haven't found a solution yet."
"You haven't been trying very hard either."
"I have toddlers, what do you want me to do?" I said. "And why is it a big issue now?"
"Because we are starting to see what happens when a child born outside the Danvers Accord comes of age," he said.
A sliver of fear slipped through my body. "What does that have to do with closing the tear?"
He remained silent, and the sliver turned into a storm.
"I hope you aren't insinuating that I should close the tear and leave my children on the other side of it," I said. "Because if that's what you're saying—"
"Absolutely not," he said. "But it is something we have to think about with Marie."
"And, again, what does Marie's magic have to do with the tear?" I said, warm anger rising in my cheeks.
"Merely to point out that if anyone from New Salem were to cross the tear, we would have a larger problem on our hands," he said. "I, and the rest of the clan, trust you, Gavon. Your girls are contained through their membership to Clan Carrigan. The rest of your Guild, however…"
We'd had this conversation a long time ago, when Mora was first pregnant with Nicole. "They don't know about it, though."
"Can you be confident that will remain the case? In fifty years, when you're as old as I am, can you be confident that no one will stumble across the tear if it remains open? A hundred years, when you're gone?"
"I take pains to hide it," I said. "Charms, that sort of thing. They'll live on long after I'm gone."
Ashley sighed, and I could tell he was growing tired of my delaying. "Gavon, I hate to have to be strict, but I will. You're simply married into Clan Carrigan, not a part of it. I need to see some concrete progress on the tear—and by that, I mean you have to do something—or I will have to recommend your banishment."
I sat back, stunned. "You would do that?"
"Only because being nice
hasn't seemed to work," he said with a pitying look. "And because Irene is becoming more and more vocal as I grow older. She won't be as gentle or forgiving as I am, so you'll need the rest of the clan on your side if you want to overrule her."
I couldn't argue. "Very well. Maybe Mora would like to take a trip to London with the girls. Check on that lead."
"That's the spirit," he said, clasping his hands together. "I look forward to hearing what you find."
I did my best to hide my discomfort as the girls played on the playground I'd charmed to be a little warmer for them. Nicole was climbing the stairs, her little sister barely able to keep up. I hoped one day they'd get along and be best friends, but if Mora and her sister were any indication, that might be a bridge too far.
Nicole laughed as she slid down the slide, guided by my magic on either side. I refused to be like Irene, pressuring my daughter into being more than she was. I wanted Nicole to love her magic and know how unique she really was. Nicole was the first of her kind in a very, very long time—the only Potion-maker in existence. And perhaps it was the combination of her mother's magic and my own, but she held within her a great deal of power that I hoped we could tap into when she was a little older.
But as a baby, when she'd wanted something, all Nicole could do was scream. Marie was starting to find her magical abilities, as babies did at her age. And now, summoning and transporting and levitating as she was…
Would it be better to put a containment spell on her? That, I didn't know. It seemed cruel to take away years of magical training just to appease the nonmagicals. But that was the world I'd chosen to live in. And bringing her to New Salem was out of the question.
Marie swayed on a step then fell backward. My magic caught her instantly, placing her back on the playlet.
"Baby. We've talked about this."
Dawn and Devilry Page 13
