Stolen Hearts

by Sasha L. Miller

  "I'll try to get the rest of the kinks ironed out quickly," Mervyn promised, smiling sympathetically. "I know it can't be easy dealing with all of this."

  "It's not bad," Callisto said, since it really wasn't anymore. "It's much better, I just thought—you should know? In case it was something worse."

  "Still, I'm sure you'd rather the tweaking be done," Mervyn said, smiling slowly in a way that made Callisto recall the way Mervyn had cast the last modifications to his charm.

  Flushing, Callisto shrugged and picked up his wine glass, taking a sip to try and hide his fluster. It was a red wine, and to Callisto's admittedly inexperienced tastes, not very good. The only wine he usually drank was the apple and other fruit-based wines his parents made.

  "So you do think Denzil will be okay?" Callisto asked, changing the subject as he set the wine down and resolve to drink no more of it.

  "It will take a bit, but yes," Mervyn said confidently, and he would know better than Callisto, since he'd been around Denzil more, and more recently. "You should probably let him do something for you, to 'make up for it' in his mind."

  "He's not allowed to leave the house," Callisto said, more fiercely than he'd meant. Mervyn was nodding though, so at least he wasn't alone in that sentiment.

  "If he leaves, it will be to try and track Baldric down," Mervyn said, making a face. "Denzil is very hot-headed, and he's good at magic, but not good enough to go head-to-head with a wizard."

  "He'd better not try," Callisto said, scowling briefly. If he had to lock Denzil in his bedroom, he would. "We should tell him Baldric isn't where he usually is. That might keep him from rushing out to find him."

  "He might have some idea where Baldric is," Mervyn said, not appearing phased by Callisto's vehemence. "I'll speak to him tomorrow, though I'm sure he'll do his best to avoid me."

  "I can go with you? He's not trying to avoid me," Callisto suggested, wondering why Denzil didn't just talk to Mervyn. He doubted that Mervyn would be anything but understanding—he didn't seem the type to rub things in and gloat and say 'I told you so.'

  "Maybe," Mervyn said, shrugging. "He might be more willing to talk about Baldric without you there, however. He's very protective." Callisto shrugged, not sure what to say to that. Denzil had been protective, and it was a little strange, since Denzil had wanted nothing to do with him when they were growing up. "And we're talking about unhappy things again," Mervyn said, smiling wryly. "I'm sorry. I can't seem to help myself."

  "It's okay," Callisto said, shrugging. "I'm not doing much better. Um, oh," Callisto paused, smiling shyly. "Would you like to hear some embarrassing stories about Denzil?"

  Mervyn laughed, smiling brightly. "I'd love to."

  "Okay," Callisto said, pausing to think. Denzil was going to kill him for this, but that was what he got for avoiding Mervyn. "Um, so every year my parents host a big bonfire to clear dead brush and downed tree limbs. They also sell fruit and the ciders and wines and other things they make from the orchard. They didn't let us help or get too close to the bonfire until we were pretty old, worried we'd set ourselves on fire or something."

  Mervyn laughed again, shaking his head. "I think I can see where this is going."

  "Right, so, one year, they finally decide Denzil is old enough, partly because he kept nagging them to let him help," Callisto said, smiling as he remembered. Denzil had been excited enough he hadn't even tried to rub it in Callisto's face. "Denzil was really excited at first, but our parents, they like to nag and nitpick. I think they told him twenty times not to get too close to the fire, and they didn't let him add wood, just bring it to them. Denzil wasn't happy, of course, and decided he'd add the next batch of wood himself. Our parents weren't pleased, but when Denzil gets it in his head to do something…"

  "There really is no dissuading him," Mervyn finished dryly. "I've run into that stubborn streak more than once."

  Callisto nodded, unsurprised. "So he's going to add the wood, and our mother is still saying, 'don't get too close, don't get too close,' and so Denzil gets as close as he can, throws the wood on, and turns to gloat that he was just fine—" Callisto paused, grinning, "—and a spark jumps out of the fire and sets his pants ablaze."

  Mervyn laughed, shaking his head. "I bet he wasn't even repentant after, either."

  "He did shriek like a little girl," Callisto said thoughtfully. "Though he denies it ever happened."

  "I'm not surprised," Mervyn said, grinning cheerfully. "One of the first cases I had him help me with was this young fairy who was having trouble breathing. She was a street vendor, and while she was working she dressed like a man to keep harassment to a minimum. Her hair was cut short to help with the illusion, but it was obvious she was a woman.

  "Denzil took one look, assumed she was a man, and called her 'him' and 'he' throughout the conversation, despite our attempts to subtly bring her gender to his attention. When I finally managed to tell him afterwards, he was incredibly annoyed with me, and then proceeded to pretend it didn't happen."

  "I can see how he'd make that mistake," Callisto said, smiling wryly. "Our village is very old-fashioned, and I can't think of any women who have short hair. It isn't worth the gossip that would come with it. Still, Denzil likes to deal with his problems and any embarrassing situations he gets himself into by pretending it never happened. He's very good at it. There was this one time—" Callisto cut off as the door opened and Evandie appeared, bearing a tray of steaming plates.

  "Denzil said to inform you that he's still asleep," Evandie said flatly, obviously unimpressed by Denzil's request.

  "Still avoiding me, I see," Mervyn said lightly, though Callisto thought he could hear an undercurrent of frustration in Mervyn's voice.

  "He'll probably come out tomorrow," Callisto offered, giving Evandie a smile and saying "thank you" when she set a plate in front of him.

  "You're welcome," Evandie said, her pinched, annoyed expression fading. She set the other plate in front of Mervyn then gave Callisto an assessing look. She sniffed then declared, "At least this one has manners."

  Callisto blinked, startled, but Mervyn just laughed, shaking his head. "Thank you, Evandie. Make sure Denzil gets something to eat, too, please? Even though he's rude?"

  "He'll get something," Evandie muttered, then promptly bustled from the room. Callisto blinked after her then turned back to Mervyn, who just smiled as though nothing strange had happened.

  "So you were saying? About Denzil?" Mervyn prompted, and Callisto wondered why he felt like he was being distracted. Deciding it didn't matter, Callisto started his story again, focusing on enjoying his food and Mervyn's company and nothing else.

  Part Eight

  Mervyn climbed the stairs to the second floor of the house slowly, delaying as much as he could get away with. He really didn't want to have the conversation he was about to have with Denzil. Denzil would be defensive and snappy, and he wouldn't really listen to anything Mervyn said, more so because he probably well and truly blamed himself for what Baldric had done to Callisto, no matter what Callisto had told him.

  Denzil had managed to void him an entire two days, and Mervyn was sick of it. Reaching the top of the stairs, he turned and headed down the hall to Denzil's room. He had it on Evandie and Callisto's authority that Denzil was still here and that he hadn't tried to leave, so that was something at least.

  Mervyn paused outside the door to Denzil's bedroom, waiting half a second before knocking loudly. Something went thump inside, but nothing happened past that. Likely Denzil hoped ignoring him would work well enough to drive him away.

  Giving Denzil another minute to answer the door, Mervyn shifted impatiently then pulled his lock-pick charm from his pocket. He tried the knob first and was surprised when it turned easily under his hand. Shrugging it off, Mervyn tucked the charm away and let himself into Denzil's room.

  "Go away, Mervyn," Denzil said immediately, not looking up from the book he was pretending to read. "I don't want a pep talk."

&
nbsp; "Good, I'm not here to give one," Mervyn replied, shutting the door behind him. Denzil was sitting in the window seat this room boasted, and so Mervyn dragged a chair close and sat down. "Callisto is worried about you," Mervyn said, not at all above playing dirty. Denzil sighed, snapping his book shut.

  "Really, Mervyn, you have to bring Callisto into this?" Denzil snapped, scowling at him.

  "I'm worried, too, but you usually don't care about my feelings," Mervyn said, smiling crookedly. Denzil scoffed loudly, sitting up straight in the window seat.

  "What do you want me to say, Mervyn? I was wrong, I was reckless, I was stupid? Fine, all of the above," Denzil bit out. "You were right, I should have gotten him checked out. I shouldn't have simply trusted him. I should have seen the signs something was wrong, and I willfully ignored it all to—to prove I wasn't stupid, and Callisto paid the price for it."

  "He doesn't blame you, Denzil," Mervyn said gently. "He's not mad at you or upset at anything other than you beating yourself up over this."

  "For now," Denzil said bitterly. "What happens if we can't find Baldric? Or if his heart is dead or charmed and he has to live with a chunk of metal in his chest for the rest of his life?"

  "Callisto is smarter than that," Mervyn said, firmly believing it. "And the charm is a near-perfect replacement. A few tweaks, and it will be perfect."

  "Our parents will disavow any knowledge of him if he goes home with a wizard charm in his chest," Denzil said, shaking his head. "Even if we get his heart back, there's no guarantee we can replace it properly and that he can do everything he did before. There's just—there's no way he's going to be able to go back to the orchard like he wants."

  "Are you sure that's what he wants?" Mervyn asked quietly, frowning at Denzil thoughtfully. "He's never made it sound like he was happy there." Denzil just shrugged, staring pensively at the wall above Mervyn's head. "Malone and I shouldn't have pushed you the way we did," Mervyn said after a moment. "I, at least, know you well enough to know how stubborn you can be when you're pushed. I only did it because I can't always be there to protect you, and I saw what Seth did to you. I didn't want to see that happen again."

  "I know, and I should have been smart enough…" Denzil sighed, running a hand through his hair restlessly. "I just thought that it didn't matter, that if anything went wrong, it would be my decision and that my stupidity wouldn't hurt anyone else."

  "It was a fluke," Mervyn said, shaking his head a little. "Just like Callisto finding my place and deciding to try me instead of the hospital."

  Denzil winced, making a face. "He was really trying for the hospital?"

  "I warned him," Mervyn said, frowning. "And Denzil, you know I'd be seriously upset if anything happened to you, right? You shouldn't be so cavalier—"

  "I know, I know," Denzil cut him off, looking annoyed briefly. "I was mostly thinking of that bastard Malone."

  Mervyn shook his head, somehow unsurprised. Denzil really needed to either accept that Malone was a wizard and get over it or actually get over Malone. Not that Denzil would admit his interest, not anymore. "Can you stop avoiding me now, then?" Mervyn asked, propping his feet up on the edge of the window seat, near Denzil's legs. "I'm not going to yell at you or tell you, 'I told you so,' and Callisto really is worried."

  "He shouldn't be," Denzil grumbled, eyeing Mervyn's feet but ultimately ignoring them. "He talked to me the other day."

  "I think it's because he hasn't seen you since," Mervyn pointed out, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

  "Yeah, yeah, whatever," Denzil muttered, glancing out the window. "So have you heard anything else from Malone?"

  "Not yet," Mervyn said, frowning, but deciding to let Denzil change the subject. "He should turn up in a day or so to let me know how it's going. Sooner, if he manages to find Baldric."

  "Disappeared?" Denzil asked, though he made more of a statement of it. "What do you think tipped him? We didn't know until after he stopped by that he was behind it."

  "It could be just that he saw Callisto," Mervyn said, wishing there was something more he could do to help Denzil work out his issues with Baldric, aside from distracting him. "I'm not sure. We may have accidentally suggested we knew, but I don't see how."

  "He was always kind of high strung," Denzil muttered, making Mervyn strain to pick out what he was saying. "It wouldn't take much to spook him."

  "Mmm," Mervyn said, wondering why Denzil had been seeing Baldric, then. He rarely had patience for that sort of behavior. "Any ideas where he might be hiding? Malone said he's no longer at his residences, and he's not showing up for work."

  "No," Denzil said, shaking his head. He smiled, not at all a happy expression. "I didn't know he had more than once residence, or that he was a wizard, and he was obviously keeping it from me on purpose. Why would I have any idea where he does his spell casting?"

  "He might have insisted on meeting frequently in a particular area of the city that wasn't near the hospital or his apartment," Mervyn suggested, wondering if it would help to shake some sense into Denzil. Probably not, that usually just annoyed Denzil. "Callisto suggested it might be near where Baldric attacked him, sine it would be difficult to get him too far without attracting notice."

  "Yeah, maybe," Denzil said, shrugging. Mervyn sighed, giving up on that line of questioning—Denzil was obviously in no mood for it. "I could write him a note, maybe. Tell him Callisto's doing better and you won't stop pestering me about inviting him for dinner. Maybe it will draw him back out or at least lull him into making a mistake."

  "That's a good idea," Mervyn said cautiously, though he wasn't so sure Denzil could write such a note without some emotion leaking in.

  "I'll do it in a bit, then," Denzil said, frowning morosely. "After I go reassure Callisto I'm not dead."

  "Which you should do now," Mervyn said, making Denzil roll his eyes. "He should be in the library. That's where he usually is this time of day."

  "You know his schedule?" Denzil asked, and he perked right up, meaning that Mervyn had just inadvertently let something slip.

  "Considering he only leaves the library to eat and sleep, it's not really hard to figure out," Mervyn said dryly, hoping to head Denzil off. He doubted he'd be that lucky though; Denzil liked distractions when he was upset, and this was too easy for him to pass up.

  "Uh-huh," Denzil said, obviously not impressed or at all dissuaded. "Which is why you were practically in his lap the last time you modified his charm?"

  "It was the easiest way to do it," Mervyn said, refusing to be ruffled. He shrugged, but couldn't resist adding, "Callisto didn't seem to mind."

  "All right, then," Denzil said, raising his eyebrows at Mervyn. "What are your intentions with regards to my brother, Mervyn? Do I have to step up and defend his honor? I think I need to start chaperoning you two."

  "He is an adult, Denzil," Mervyn said, amused even as he avoided Denzil's questions. He wasn't sure what his intentions were, yet, but he did know that he wasn't going to do anything until the matter of Callisto's heart was completely resolved. And perhaps not even then—he didn't want a 'thank you' relationship.

  "Barely," Denzil said, snorting. "He's only twenty."

  "Twenty is two years an adult," Mervyn said, almost laughing at the petulant look on Denzil's face.

  "He's young and, worse, impressionable. Don't mess with him, Mervyn," Denzil warned, serious again.

  "I wouldn't do that," Mervyn said, a little hurt even though he understood where Denzil was coming from. "Nothing is going to happen until he has his heart back or the charm is perfect, and I won't do anything if I think he's just infatuated because I helped him."

  "Okay," Denzil said, shifting guiltily. He didn't apologize, though Mervyn had not really expected him to. "Good. Um, I was thinking it might be nice to get him something to distract him from the whole mess. Only, Callisto would kill me if I went out alone…"

  "What did you have in mind?" Mervyn asked, a little surprised that Denzil was accedin
g to Callisto on the matter of staying here.

  "Paints or something," Denzil said, making a face. "I don't know what exactly he'd need, but he likes to do that sort of thing."

  "I'll put Evandie on it," Mervyn said. It was a good idea; no doubt Callisto wouldn't mind having another source of distraction besides the library. "She can figure out what to get without asking Callisto, so it will be a surprise."

  "Good," Denzil said, grinning briefly. "You can even say it's partly from you, get some points with Callisto for figuring out what he likes."

  "He already told me he likes painting," Mervyn said, then wished he'd kept that to himself when Denzil raised his eyebrows.

  "Really," Denzil drawled, smirking obnoxiously. "Callisto never talks about his art."

  "It came up," Mervyn said, shrugging. Denzil didn't need to know about the time he and Callisto had spent together in the library discussing the paintings in the Kaplir book. "Nothing special about it."

  "He doesn't talk about it, at all," Denzil stressed, looking thoughtful and much less obnoxious for it. "Our parents think it's rubbish and do everything they can to discourage it. They want him to take over the orchard or something. Apparently I'm too flighty."

  "You are flighty," Mervyn said dryly, and Denzil rolled his eyes.

  "Anyway," Denzil said loudly. "He must trust you a lot, to admit it."

  "Good," Mervyn said, because Callisto really should trust him at this point. "Is that why he thinks he needs to go home? So he can take over the orchards?"

  "Probably something like that," Denzil muttered, looking annoyed. "Callisto has always ceded to our parents' demands a lot more than I did. He probably feels responsible for them somehow, when it's their own damn fault I left. They're probably going to disown him for this mess, never mind it's not his fault, and then they'll start in on guilt-tripping me to come home, regardless of the way we always fight and I never do what they want."

  "I hope Callisto isn't too upset when your parents find out," Mervyn said quietly, wanting to find the idiots and shake them, and not for the first time. Denzil had mentioned them before, usually only briefly, but never in a good way.