Dawn and Devilry

by S. Usher Evans

  I looked up at my wife, wrapped in a black wool coat, her yellow tresses flying in the breeze.

  "Yes, my love?" I said, feigning ignorance. "What have we talked about?"

  "You're in the middle of a nonmagical park," she said, taking a seat on the bench next to me. "You can't be plucking children from thin air."

  I wrapped my arm around her and kissed her forehead. "There's a Look Away charm on the playground."

  "That only affects nonmagicals."

  "If your mother is surprised by magic, I think we have a lot more to worry about. Perhaps she's developing dementia…"

  "I'm serious, Gav," she said. "You didn't hear the earful I got from her the other day. She wants Marie under a containment spell pronto."

  I sighed instead of responding. I'd had too many fights about Mora's mother to rehash it further. "How was Montreal?"

  "Bitterly cold," she said with a shiver. "But fun. I haven't been ice skating in years." She rested her forehead against my cold cheek. "There was a handsome guy at the rink, too."

  "Oh? Magical?"

  "Not a drop," she said. "Still cute. I didn't have the heart to tell him I had two kids and a husband at home. Gave me free skates though."

  "With more than a little bit of flirting, I'm sure."

  "Just a bit, Gav. I am a married woman."

  I chuckled, and she leaned further into me as we watched our two little girls chase each other around the park. Later, we carried them back home and cooked dinner together, tripping over each other in our small kitchen and sharing a glass of wine as the girls watched cartoons before we put them to bed. With the house to ourselves, Mora and I engaged in a little more marital bliss before finally calling it a night and going to bed.

  As I lay there, my wife in my arms, Ashley's warning flitted in the back of my mind. Things were so perfect, it was easy to forget that I had obligations in New Salem and to Mora's clan. My agreement with Ashley so long ago was now more a formality, but still valid.

  I kissed Mora's forehead and promised myself I'd worry about it tomorrow. But just as I was drifting off to sleep, I felt something odd that woke me right up. It was a small kernel of magic—similar to the one I'd felt when she'd been pregnant with Marie. But this was…

  "Mora," I said, shaking her. "Wake up."

  "Huh…what?" She blinked. "Baby, what is it? What's wrong?"

  "Are you pregnant?"

  Her eyes widened. "W…what? I'd better not be."

  I concentrated, searching for that small kernel again. It was faint—barely there. But it still existed. The smallest indication that a Warrior was coming.

  Twenty-Two

  We confirmed Mora's pregnancy via nonmagical means three days later. She was less ecstatic than I was.

  "Three kids, Gavon?" she said, pacing the bedroom. "What the hell am I supposed to do with three kids. I have two arms. And a Warrior? So she or he'll be tossing spells like you do?" She ran a hand through her hair. "This is insane. We can't have another kid."

  "Baby, come here," I said, holding out my arms. With a frown, she trudged toward them, resting her head on my shoulder. "We'll figure it out. I promise."

  "Mom's going to be livid."

  "I dare her to say one thing in front of me," I said, unable to keep the venom from my voice. "I dare any of them to say one thing about my children in front of me."

  She leaned back and smiled. "You know I like it when you get all feisty about our babies."

  Some of my anger cooled, and I allowed myself to relax. "I can't believe you're having a Warrior. It's…amazing."

  "And why is it any more amazing than a Healer and Potion-maker?" she asked with a raised brow.

  "Because…" How could I explain it to her? She had no idea the bond that came with specialties. Beyond that, I couldn't help but find this to be almost poetic. My mother had given me away as a child for someone else to raise. I would be there for my child—to show them that a Warrior could be powerful even trained by their parent.

  "Because?"

  "Do you know how your cousin Charlie takes his kids to the Red Sox games?" I said. "And how he was so excited when his daughter started softball so they could play it together?" She nodded. "It's kind of like that. I love the girls, but I can't spar with them. I can't show them how to block a spell. I can't—"

  She pressed her finger to my lips. "I get it. You're such a dork."

  I kissed her fingertip. "You know what else this means, don't you?"

  "Hm?"

  "Remember when you were pregnant with Marie, how you suddenly had all this healing magic?" I said, casually sliding my hands down the side of her body. It had been a curious oddity—presumably a byproduct of a magical under the Danvers agreement playing temporary host to a child not under it. "Well, I believe the same will happen here."

  "So?"

  "So…" I pulled her closer. "That means you and I might be able to spar."

  Her eyes lit up. "For real? You'd let me into the ring. Me and my delicate sensibilities?"

  "I have never called your sensibilities delicate," I said. "But yes, perhaps I can teach you a couple of things. But not for a few weeks, at least. The baby's magic is pretty weak right now, it needs to grow. But I can already tell, this one's going to be a powerhouse."

  "Look at you," Mora said, taking my face in her hands. "You're really excited about this, aren't you?"

  I nodded. "I know you're nervous about having three kids, but I promise you, it's going to be fine. We can handle it."

  "Oh geez, what if it's a boy?" Mora said with a horrified look. "I can't deal with boys."

  I honestly didn't care, although we'd be spending significantly less money on clothes and toys if it was another girl. "When do you want to tell the kids?"

  "Nicole won't be able to keep it from Mom," Mora said. "And I don't want to tell Mom until…" She sighed. "Ever? Can I just keep this secret from her forever?"

  "I think when you show up with a squealing baby with Warrior magic, she might have some questions."

  "Ugh." Mora dropped her head in her hands.

  "Hey," I said, gently removing them and holding her close. "Don't get upset. It's bad for the baby."

  "Maybe we could just…I don't know, take the girls for a few days. Go somewhere."

  "Well, Ashley did want me to follow up on his lead in London," I said with a grin. Might as well kill two birds with one stone. "Delay the inevitable a bit longer?"

  "Sounds awesome." She stood. "I'll start packing."

  Even with magic, getting two kids under four ready for a week-long trip was more complicated than it seemed. But soon, we'd transported into an alley in the middle of London, away from prying eyes. I'd perfected the art of casting a Look Away charm before I arrived anywhere new, just in case.

  The girls always loved transporting. Nicole would scream excitedly as the world changed beneath our feet, and every time she'd ask me when she could transport.

  "Soon," I promised her. First I'd have to find a Potion-making book that contained such a spell, but there had to be one out there. There seemed to be a potion for everything else.

  "So you're going to follow up on Ashley's lead?" Mora asked. "How long are you going to be?"

  "Uh…"

  "Long," she said. After glancing around the alley, she magicked the baby's carrier from her back to my front—along with the baby. "You take her. I'll take Nicole and go sightseeing."

  "Find us a good hotel too, will you?" I said, adjusting the baby on my front. She was fast asleep, a good sign. "And can you leave the diaper bag?"

  "Have fun," Mora said, kissing me sweetly on the lips. "C'mon, munchkin. Let's go see what London looks like."

  I pressed my hand to the baby's back and watched them go, offering a small wave when Nicole looked back at me. When they disappeared around the corner, I pulled the letter from Ashley from my pocket and read.

  "Okay, Marie, for your first magical lesson," I said softly. "We're going to learn how to use magic to
find an address."

  The baby was a poor study, but as I'd seen with Nicole, even the simplest magical lessons seemed to stick. I let my magic guide me into the city, glad to be back once more. Shortly after I'd been allowed into the clan, Mora had taken me here to see a Shakespeare play performed live at the Globe Theater. Both had been thrilling, but didn't hold a candle to the moment we'd stopped by the bank and found a large sum of money in my name.

  The account had been charmed—as was, I found out, most of the money in that section of the bank. The magical who'd taken me to it said that no one had been able to unlock the vaults for centuries. It was based on DNA, and when it opened and revealed a large sum of money…

  Let's just say the clan was a little more eager to let me hang around.

  Mora and I didn't take much—we didn't need a lot, either. Our house had been a gift from Ashley on our wedding day, as it had belonged to Ashley's father, and had been vacant for some time. But I was glad I could give the money to my girls one day, perhaps for college, or even for their own houses.

  I looked down at the baby, marveling at how quickly time was passing. Just yesterday, she'd been born. Soon, I'd have a new baby to carry around and dote on.

  "I'm so excited for your new sibling to get here," I said, as we continued down the street. "You two should be good friends. A Warrior and a Healer. And you share the same blood, so your powers will be extra helpful to her." I chuckled. "I hope you can spare some for your old man, too."

  The baby, predictably, slept on.

  After a long walk into the more magical part of London, I arrived at the address. I walked to the door and rapped on the knocker, also signaling my presence magically. It was an older practice—something the younger magicals didn't do—but Ashley had told me once it was still a sign of respect.

  The door opened to reveal an Indian man with a bushy mustache and jet-black hair. He gave me a once over, then opened the door wider. "You must be the magical from the Carrigan Clan," he said in a thick London accent.

  I held out my hand. "Very nice to meet you. Gavon McKinnon."

  He introduced himself as Sahil Jha and welcomed me into his home, guiding me to his book-filled office. I stood in the doorway, admiring his stacks with glee.

  "You're a fan of the written word?" he asked. "Or just the magical one?"

  "All of them," I said, patting Marie on the head as she squirmed, but didn't wake up.

  "You've got a strange sort of magic," he said, peering at me as if I were a curiosity. "As does your child."

  "Yeah." I'd become used to this question over the years, having the explanation down to a short few sentences. The look of surprise when I mentioned the tear never ceased to make me feel uncomfortable.

  "And that's why you're here, I suppose," he said with a knowing nod. "Ashley's letter said something about magical pockets."

  "Anything you have on the subject, I am all ears." I took the seat he offered me.

  "I'll put on some tea, then."

  I had a fantastic talk with Sahil over a cup of strong brew, with only a short break to feed the baby who'd woken from her nap. His knowledge on magical pockets was limited, but his family had once been the world leaders in it, so he had plenty of books. Prior to the Danvers Accord, Sahil's clan had been a strong line of Charmers, and their magic still held an affinity for it.

  "The old ways aren't practiced so much anymore," he said as I flipped through his book. The words were in a different language, but I magically charmed them into English. A cursory glance told me I would find nothing valuable in them, but I didn't think Ashley would be happy if I returned home empty handed.

  "So tell me of this New Salem," he said. "And how you came to make the tear?"

  "To be frank, I don't know," I said with a sigh. "It was something of a youthful tantrum. The only thing I recall ever showing promise was the infinity symbol and a mix of potion ingredients. I can't even remember what I threw in there."

  "Have you tried recreating it?"

  "Thousands of times," I said. "I even have a Potion-making daughter. Perhaps one day she'll be able to unlock the secret."

  "Oh, that reminds me," he said, popping upright and scurrying to his stacks. He procured a book from the shelves and handed it to me. "Ashley's letter mentioned the Potion-maker. I thought she might like this book. I found it a few years ago in the trash heap."

  I grinned as I read the title—Potions and Potion-making. "This is wonderful. Thank you for rescuing it. Nicole will love it. One day, perhaps, when she's old enough to read."

  "Are there no Potion-making books in New Salem?"

  "None," I said grimly. "Some old ways are better left unpracticed, if you get my meaning."

  He nodded. "Then it is a wonderful thing your daughter was born here."

  I felt my wife's gentle call on my magic, and I smiled. "I couldn't agree more."

  I left Sahil with a promise to return one day to learn more about India's magical culture, and to tell him more about New Salem. He seemed of like mind to myself—a man curious about the world and everything in it.

  I found my wife and daughter sitting in a cafe, Nicole sipping on a hot chocolate that had to have been magically charmed—otherwise, she would've spilled it all over herself.

  "Weren't you just getting onto me about using magic in public?" I said, kissing Mora's forehead.

  "This is not obvious," Mora said. "And there's a Look Away charm on her. Also, hooray, I can use magic in front of non-magicals again. Thanks, pregnancy."

  "That baby is something else," I said with a grin, before turning to the toddler. "And how was your day, Nicole?"

  She gave me a whipped cream grin and then went back to it.

  "How was your meeting?" Mora asked.

  "Fantastic." I pulled out the potion book Sahil had given me and put it on the table. "An actual Potion-making book for Potion-makers. Just what I was looking for."

  She pursed her lips. "And how is that going to help you close the tear?"

  I cleared my throat. "I mean…"

  "Gavon. Ashley was pretty clear—"

  "I talked to him about it and got some books, though I don't think they're what I need. But it's something."

  She sat back and leveled one of those glares at me. "Sometimes, baby, I don't think you want that tear closed at all. I think you want it to remain open forever."

  Luckily, Marie waking up and loudly wailing ended that conversation pretty quickly.

  Twenty-Three

  Our trip to London was short-lived, and soon we were back in our home, just in time for a massive January blizzard to overtake the neighborhood. And, unfortunately, just in time for me to have to return to New Salem for another Council meeting. But thanks to the blizzard, Mora would have another few days to hide from her mother.

  "You'll have to tell her eventually," I said gently.

  "Oh, that's rich," Mora said, putting her hand on her hip. "Mr. I haven't told my mother about either of my daughters."

  "Touché." I kissed her forehead, but her gaze had changed. "What?"

  "Are you going to tell her about this one?" Mora asked. "Since it's a Warrior?"

  I opened and closed my mouth. "I…don't see how or why I would. I would have to tell her about you, and the tear, and this world. She'd want that child to grow up in New Salem. And she'd probably give the baby to…" I narrowed my eyes, hot anger crawling up my spine, "Cyrus to raise."

  "Oh yeah, no," Mora said, pressing a hand on her lower abdomen. "Don't tell your mother about this."

  "Not a chance." I wiped the anger from my face and kissed her forehead. "I'll be back later."

  It was always jarring to return to New Salem after a few weeks at home. I'd become so used to seeing the sun and hearing the ocean nearby that the dark silence was unnerving. When I'd become a councilman, I'd been given Master Jones' old house to live in. It suited me well enough—there were no servants, no one to bother me. It was easier still to pretend like I was an eccentric old man
(after all, thirty was old in New Salem), too focused on science experiments to leave my house. I would let the reputation continue as long as it needed to.

  If possible, it was colder in New Salem than the blizzard I'd just left, although there was no snow on the ground. I charmed my cloak to warm me, but it didn't seem to do much as I strolled through the streets. The village was bustling even in the chill, for the inhabitants had no idea of any other life.

  As customary, I stopped in at Mary's house first with a fresh batch of bread. She and I had become cordial over the years, though, thankfully, she'd fallen in love with another Enchanter. They had five children now (six, maybe), all Enchanters with rosy dimpled cheeks and long brown hair.

  "Master Gavon," she said, ducking her head as I walked into her shop. "Always a pleasure to see you."

  We exchanged more pleasantries, and she told me the latest with her children. Her second youngest little girl reminded me of Nicole in age and precociousness, and I wished I could bring her something sweet from the new world. Perhaps one day.

  "Your experiments seem to be going very well," Mary said, taking the fresh roll from me and disintegrating it into small crumbs. From each crumb, she formed a full loaf, which she put to the side as she worked. The food that New Salem consumed was still mostly dirt, but at least it started from fresh food.

  "I hope to be close to creating a new kind of beer," I said. "But so far, it hasn't done very well. The last batch I brought wasn't very well received."

  "I wish you could share your secrets," she said with a sigh.

  I patted one of the little girls on the head. "One day."

  Alexandra and the Council were the only ones who "knew" I was using potions to improve food. They thought it might cause a stir if the villagers knew potion-making was suddenly legal—especially considering how many of their children had been killed for having the specialty. Nuance, Alexandra had said, wasn't something they'd understand.

  I also thought it might be another way for her to consolidate power. Once I'd been accepted into the inner circle as a councilman, I'd seen a side to politics I didn't like. It was clear that Alexandra, Cyrus, and I were only on the Council, only living in the nicest houses in the village, only given such incredible say over the lives of everyone else, because of tradition. And keeping the rest of the village from questioning that tradition was the only way we remained in power.