Stolen Hearts

by Sasha L. Miller

  "Good," Mervyn said, smiling faintly. "Don't hesitate to let me know if that changes, all right. Do you have any questions?"

  "Why is he so upset?" Callisto asked, frowning at the empty doorway. He probably shouldn't be asking Mervyn that, but it wasn't as if Denzil would tell him, and he and Mervyn seemed close enough that Mervyn might actually know.

  "Because he's an idiot," Mervyn said, both amused and exasperated. "He does a lot of magic, and he's good at it, but he doesn't like to admit it."

  "I thought so," Callisto said, making a face. "I think—it's something we grew up with. Our parents are both fairies, and they taught us—they don't think that we should use our magic. They think it will only get us in trouble, and they only ever use theirs if they need to heal or graft a tree."

  "I thought as much," Mervyn said, smiling ruefully. "But you don't seem upset, and I think it would help Denzil to know that."

  Callisto nodded, fidgeting briefly before glancing around the little room again. "Where are we?"

  "Still in the basement," Mervyn said, confirming Callisto's suspicions. "We didn't want to move you back upstairs until we were sure the charm had taken, since all of my equipment is down here."

  "Oh, that's why you were sitting with me?" Callisto blurted out, then immediately regretted it. It seemed he really was feeling better, since he usually stuck his foot in his mouth on a regular basis.

  Mervyn didn't seem annoyed, though, just laughed sheepishly. "Yes, right up until I fell asleep on the job."

  "You looked tired," Callisto said then vowed to keep his mouth shut because he really was saying the stupidest things today.

  "Still, I shouldn't have nodded off," Mervyn said, making a face. "If you're feeling up to it after you eat, we can move you upstairs, since it looks like the charm is doing well."

  Callisto nodded, crossing his arms over his bare chest and wishing he had a shirt. It was a little chilly and a little discomfiting, sitting on the edge of the bed half-naked. "So what happens next?"

  "I'll work on refining your charm, and you'll rest for a few days. Then we'll find the wizard and get him locked up," Mervyn said, moving over to the discarded chair and sitting down. "I have an investigator looking into the whole thing, so hopefully he'll be able to track the wizard down quickly."

  "He's not going to keep my heart alive, is he?" Callisto asked quietly, trying not to get upset about it, but failing miserably. It would be next to impossible to hide the charm in his chest from his parents, and he didn't know what else to do besides work on the orchard.

  "I don't know," Mervyn said, just as quiet and subdued. "He may think you're dead, but if he's a good wizard, he may be able to tell you're alive. In that case, he might keep your heart alive in case you were able to track him down."

  "And if he doesn't?" Callisto asked, wondering if he could live with a metal heart for the rest of his life.

  "We'll make that charm perfect," Mervyn said firmly. "If not better than a real heart. I won't let you have anything less if you have to walk out of here with a charm in place of your heart."

  "Okay," Callisto said, keeping his doubts to himself. Mervyn had already done so much for him; how much more would he do before he started thinking of Callisto as a burden?

  "When I said we'd fix it, I meant it, Callisto," Mervyn said, smiling crookedly, and Callisto flushed, feeling terrible. "Not, I'll fix it halfway and then you're on your own. If you have to stay here for years while I perfect it, so be it. I'm not going to force you out or give you anything less than my all. I still think there's a good chance we can recover your heart and replace it, and I won't give up on that until I have no other choice."

  "I'm sorry," Callisto said, slumping dejectedly. "I didn't mean—"

  "It's okay," Mervyn said, smiling more genuinely. "I can't imagine it's easy, what you're going through. Just know that I'm not going to give up on you, okay?"

  "But why not? I mean, what's in it for you?" Callisto asked, then cringed because that really was a terribly rude thing to ask right after the promises Mervyn had made.

  "Did you know that I've never done anything like this before?" Mervyn asked, and he didn't sound offended, at least. "Which probably isn't very comforting, but one of the things I enjoy most about magic is learning more about it. I wasn't just trying to calm you down when I told you that the first time. I like doing new things with magic, and I like knowing that what I'm doing is helping people and affecting them in a good way. I've had my fill of wizards who give lip service to how they like to help people when they really mean they like the paycheck that comes with working with people, but won't lift a finger when there's nothing in it for them."

  "Okay," Callisto said then sighed, exasperated with himself. Was that really all he could say? "I'm sorry, I just—people always want something, and my parents are always, always going on about how terrible wizards are, and you're not, not at all, and I—I just don't know anything."

  "It's okay, really," Mervyn said, giving him a real smile. Callisto flushed, wondering how he'd managed to find the one good wizard in the city. "You should have seen Denzil when he first realized I was a wizard. He was much worse than you, and he had no reason to think I knew he was a fairy, either."

  Callisto smiled at that—Denzil was much more outspoken than he was, so that probably hadn't gone well at all.

  "Yes, it went about that well," Mervyn said cheerfully.

  Callisto started to ask more—Mervyn had said something about how he and Denzil had met before and Callisto was curious—but the sound of stomping footsteps on the stairs above their head cut him off. Denzil appeared a moment later, looking noticeably happier than when he'd left. He was also carrying a tray that held a steaming mug, a steaming bowl of oatmeal, and a plate of toast cut into little triangles.

  "I may have annoyed Evandie," Denzil announced cheerfully, passing the tray to Mervyn, who leaned forward and set it on the bed next to Callisto.

  Part Five

  "What did you do?" Mervyn asked, sighing.

  "Nothing," Denzil said, trying and failing to look innocent. Callisto smothered a grin with a bite of toast, and it really was sad, but it was the most delicious thing he could remember eating in ages. "I just stood there. She was the one who threw silverware at me."

  "You shouldn't antagonize her while you're sleeping here, Denzil," Mervyn said. "She's going to be in a snit all day, and you'll probably end up with a short-sheeted bed or something."

  "I know," Denzil said, not sounding the least bit upset about it. "She doesn't like me much," Denzil confided to Callisto as he started in on his oatmeal. "I don't know why; I've never been anything less than perfectly nice to her."

  "You're not fooling me," Callisto said, shaking his head. "You were always 'perfectly nice' to Aunt Claris, too."

  "She likes you," Denzil said, then added thoughtfully, "But then, Aunt Claris did too."

  "Evandie likes me?" Callisto asked, confused. She hadn't seemed to, especially the first time they'd met. She'd looked ready to pitch him back out onto the streets head first.

  "She asked how you were," Denzil said, as though that was the ultimate proof. "She never asks about any of Mervyn's victims."

  "Clients," Mervyn corrected, rolling his eyes.

  "That's what I said," Denzil said earnestly. Mervyn sighed, but ignored him, which was usually the best means of dealing with Denzil.

  "Unless you have objections, Callisto is going to move upstairs when he's done eating," Mervyn said, changing the topic and distracting Denzil.

  "Are you sure? I thought we were going to have him down here an entire day after he woke," Denzil said, and Callisto really hoped that wasn't going to stay true. He'd probably go stir-crazy in a few minutes left alone in this tiny room. At least his bedroom upstairs was bigger, even if it had just as little to distract him.

  "He's doing better than we originally thought," Mervyn said, shrugging. "And there's nothing to suggest the charm is going to stop working."

&nb
sp; "And you feel up to two flights of stairs?" Denzil asked, turning to Callisto.

  Callisto nodded, hastily swallowing a mouthful of oatmeal. "I think so."

  "Good," Denzil said, smiling at that. "Then upstairs it is, but you have to let us know immediately if anything changes along the way."

  "I will," Callisto promised, finishing off his oatmeal and pushing the tray away. "We can go now?"

  Mervyn laughed softly, standing up and pushing the chair back against the wall behind him. "Okay, but take it slow, all right? Do you remember what I told you about how the charm works when you exert yourself?"

  "It doesn't keep up," Callisto repeated dutifully. "So I have to take it slow and pay attention to how what I'm doing is affecting me."

  "Exactly," Mervyn said, giving him another smile.

  Callisto pushed the blankets away then carefully moved the tray to the side table so he didn't accidentally upset it when he got up. He slid off the bed, standing up, and suddenly he was all the more aware that he wasn't wearing a shirt. He'd come down with one, but who knew where that had ended up.

  "Oh, hold on a moment," Mervyn said and slipped out of the room.

  "I don't have any idea," Denzil said when Callisto glanced at him quizzically. The sound of a door opening and closing came from somewhere outside the tiny room, and a moment later, Mervyn reappeared. Holding Callisto's shirt as if he'd read Callisto's thoughts. He passed it off to Callisto, and Callisto carefully shrugged it on, wincing a little when his chest protested the movement.

  "Ready, then?" Denzil drawled then led the way out into the hallway.

  The trip upstairs was slow, but not half as slow as Callisto had had to take it with the previous charm. Still, he was a little winded when they reached the top of the stairs, and he really hoped Mervyn was able to tweak the charm to fix that soon.

  "Good to keep going, or would you like a short break?" Mervyn asked, glancing towards the door to the salon. "You could sit in there for a bit, if you like."

  "Okay," Callisto agreed, because that was better than going up to his room where there was nothing to do but rest. "I mean, I'd like."

  "Denzil, get the door," Mervyn ordered, flashing a smile at Callisto when Denzil started grumbling. He moved ahead of them, though, and Mervyn kept pace with Callisto, probably to support him if he faltered, which was nice.

  Denzil opened the door, mock bowing the two of them in, and Callisto shook his head, a little exasperated but glad that Denzil seemed to be in a better mood. Stepping into the salon, Callisto faltered, half-turning towards Mervyn when Mervyn steadied him.

  Mervyn looked surprised, too, so he hadn't known Baldric was sitting on the other side of the room, either. It was only the surprise that had made Callisto falter, of course, never mind that Baldric was currently staring at Callisto as if he were a particularly rare specimen to be examined.

  "What are you doing here, Baldric?" Denzil demanded from behind Callisto, not sounding at all happy. "I told you I'd come see you in a few days."

  "I'm sorry," Baldric said, his attention switching lightning quick to Denzil. "You sounded so worried in your letter. I wanted to see if there was anything I could do." His face was still squashed-looking, Callisto thought somewhat meanly, then immediately felt contrite. It wasn't as though Baldric could do anything about that.

  "Here, sit down," Mervyn said quietly, guiding Callisto to a nearby chair. Denzil glanced at them, obviously displeased again then crossed the room. He pulled Baldric out of his chair and into the far corner of the room, saying something too quietly for Callisto to hear as they went.

  Mervyn took the seat next to Callisto, glancing over at where Baldric and Denzil were having a hushed conversation. He leaned closer to Callisto, murmuring, "You were right, his face is squashed. Think he was dropped on it as a child?"

  Callisto snorted, stifling a laugh. It was mean of him, especially since Denzil obviously cared about Baldric. He was still touching Baldric's arm lightly, and they were standing closer together than normal people would. Denzil was also obviously getting less angry as Baldric spoke to him.

  "…a few more days, okay?" Denzil said, loudly enough that those words carried across the room. Baldric nodded, and Callisto looked away, giving them a little privacy, because whatever Baldric's faults, Denzil obviously cared about him.

  "How are you doing?" Mervyn asked quietly, pitching his voice so it wouldn't carry across the room.

  "Good," Callisto said just as quietly, studying his lap for a minute before glancing at Mervyn. "When will you hear from your investigator?"

  "On this?" Mervyn touched his chest lightly. "Or the other?"

  "Um, both," Callisto said, though he'd mostly meant Baldric.

  "A few days," Mervyn said, frowning a little. "Maybe a little longer on the—" Mervyn tapped his chest again.

  Callisto nodded, wondering if there was any realistic chance of finding the wizard who'd stolen his heart. It had been ages, practically, and surely any wizard with the nerve to steal a heart and then let his victim go would have covered his tracks well.

  "I'll try to make Denzil stop hovering," Mervyn said, apparently misinterpreting the look on his face.

  "Good luck," Callisto muttered, smiling a little because it was sweet of Mervyn to offer that, but Denzil was going to be nigh on impossible to avoid now.

  "Thanks," Mervyn said, smiling wryly. At least he seemed to know what he was getting into on that front. "I'll at least make sure he rests properly, even if I have to have Evandie drug his tea. She likes doing that."

  Callisto smothered another laugh, wondering what those two had against each other. "You should get some rest, too. Not in a chair."

  "I will," Mervyn said, smiling at him. "But you shouldn't worry about me. Denzil is likely to try and camp in your room until he's satisfied the charm isn't going to give out suddenly."

  "He can try," Callisto said, not looking forward to trying to convince Denzil to give him space. Hopefully with Mervyn's interference it wouldn't be too difficult.

  The cessation of quiet voices from the far corner abruptly drew Callisto's attention back to Denzil and Baldric. They were crossing the sitting room slowly, and while Denzil still didn't look pleased, he looked resigned to Baldric's presence.

  "Baldric, this is my friend Mervyn and my brother, Callisto," Denzil said, not sounding too pleased about it. "Mervyn, Callisto, this is Baldric. He's leaving now, but you'll probably see him in a few days."

  "Nice to meet you," Mervyn said, standing to shake Baldric's hand. "You really must come for tea or dinner, as soon as Denzil lets you."

  "Very funny," Denzil muttered, even as Baldric laughed.

  "I'll make sure of it," Baldric said, smiling easily, it did nothing for his appearance, and Callisto wished he could peg what it was he didn't like about Baldric, aside from his face.

  "All right, come on," Denzil said, obviously impatient to have Baldric gone. Probably because of Callisto, though if Mervyn made a habit of sending investigators after Denzil's beaus, that might be part of it as well. Baldric laughed again, but obediently allowed Denzil to herd him from the room. Callisto shook his head, hoping his heart problem wasn't interfering with Denzil's relationship.

  Except it obviously was. Denzil was staying here, both because of Callisto and the ubiquitous threat hanging over his head. He'd probably had to cancel more than a few things with Baldric over the last few days.

  "What's wrong?" Mervyn said, reclaiming his seat next to Callisto. "You look upset."

  "Nothing," Callisto replied automatically. Mervyn frowned at him worriedly, obviously not convinced. Callisto grimaced, but finally said, "Denzil shouldn't be here, he should be ..." Callisto trailed off, not sure how to articulate what he was trying to say.

  "No, he's right where he should be," Mervyn said firmly. "He may be overbearing and terrible at comforting, but he's your brother and he cares about you Callisto. Don't sell yourself short. You're much more important than a squashed-face flunky he
's only been seeing for a month or so."

  "How do you know?" Callisto asked then hurried to clarify so Mervyn didn't think he was doubting that Denzil cared. Callisto knew that, but if the danger to him was past, and it seemed it was since the heart charm was working well, then why did Denzil need to stick around? "That they've only been seeing each other for a few months?"

  "Denzil is terrible at keeping secrets," Mervyn said, smiling faintly. "He would have let something slip shortly, and I was already suspicious. Usually he spends more time over here."

  "Oh," Callisto said, biting his tongue to keep from saying anything else incredibly stupid.

  Mervyn really did know Denzil well—probably better than Callisto did. Granted, Callisto hadn't seen much of Denzil the last few years, since he had moved to the city and spent most of his time there. Their parents somehow hadn't seemed to realize that Denzil probably wasn't coming back to work on the orchard anytime soon, if ever.

  Mervyn frowned, opening his mouth to say something more, but thankfully Denzil chose that moment to reappear, slightly red-faced. "You're not allowed to check up on him," Denzil said immediately, dropping into a nearby seat heavily. "Not even a little."

  "Seth?" Mervyn asked, not looking particularly moved by Denzil's words. Good, since Mervyn had already set his investigator on Baldric. "What does he do?"

  "He's an administrator at the local branch of the city hospital," Denzil said grudgingly. "He lives in a tiny apartment in the Halin district. He's not a wizard."

  "Mmm," Mervyn said, neither agreeing or disagreeing.

  "Just let him do it, Denzil," Callisto said, cutting them off before they got a full-scale argument going. "It would make me feel better."

  Denzil hesitated, but then sat back in his chair, grimacing. "Fine. But nothing intrusive, and you better not set that bastard Malone on it."

  "Too late," Mervyn said, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "He's the best at discreet, Denzil. He's also trying to track down anything he can find regarding Callisto's attacker."

  "Why am I surprised?" Denzil muttered. "Fine, whatever, but I reserve the right to hit the bastard if he annoys me."