Cackles and Cauldrons

by Sarina Dorie

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The Best Laid Plans

  If Vega was telling the truth—and for once I believed she was—I couldn’t very well tell Khaba how the Fae was breaking in. She had said every time Thatch and I had sex, our enemy was damaging the wards, that we fueled her power in some way, which implied some kind of detection of sex or sex magic. There was no way to alert Khaba without telling him what Thatch and I were up to. I was only glad Vega hadn’t told our dean as much before. She could have, furthering her agenda to keep us separated, but she hadn’t.

  The only person I could tell was Thatch. I waited a few hours before I went to see him. He wasn’t in the dungeon, of course. The note on his door said he was running errands. I had to wait until that evening to tell him in the privacy of his office where it would be less suspicious than if we were in his bedroom.

  “That means one of two things,” Thatch said. “Either Vega is playing a prank on you in order to make your life difficult, setting terms and conditions that will amuse her. Or—”

  “She wasn’t lying like she was about the potion. She was genuinely scared. And she’s trying to help, even if she doesn’t always do it in a normal, nice-person way.”

  He grunted. “Indeed. That means if she is telling the truth, you put yourself in danger every time you experience pleasure.” His eyes bore into me. “Every time we’re together, it calls her.”

  Priscilla ruffled her feathers, shifting on her perch in her cage in agitation.

  I watched his familiar watching me. “If we know what calls this Fae, we can work with Mr. Khaba or the other staff to catch the Fae and trap her.”

  “Certainly. We’ll just ask the dean and principal if they would mind waiting outside as I make love to you. I’m certain they’ll understand.” He raised an imperious eyebrow.

  “I wasn’t saying we should tell them about that part.”

  “As much as I appreciate that you want to solve this problem, Khaba and Chuck Dean have heightened the school’s security. Despite my innocence in those murders, the principal is watching me, and he will find out if I pleasure you. We can’t risk it. The moment he fires me, you will be here alone and exposed with no one to protect you but Vega.” That was a scary thought.

  I drummed my fingers against his desk, thinking it over. “He wouldn’t catch us doing anything naughty if we did that remote projection while I sat here in your office. I could still experience pleasure without actually touching you. That might draw in this Fae so we could catch her.” She’d liked getting involved in our telekinesis before.

  The corners of his mouth quirked upward. “I suspect the true reason you have suggested this is that you are unable to go a day without my touch.”

  “Maybe.” I laughed. It did seem pretty horrible to have a boyfriend but not be able to spend time with him intimately.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I will think upon this plan of yours, but only if you promise not to take it upon yourself to carry out any schemes on your own.”

  I crossed my arms. “Me? Scheme? When have I ever not told you about some great idea I had that I knew you would say no to?”

  He held out his hand, and I took it. “Only every day.” His mouth smiled, but his eyes were serious. Pensive concern crinkled his forehead.

  He might have teased me and made light of the situation, but he was just as scared as I was of the Fae and what this one might do.

  Every time I met Khaba in the hallway, he greeted me with a smile. He dressed as he pleased, getting away with ignoring the dress code in the same way he used to. He sparkled with magic. Confidence exuded from him, though he couldn’t perform any magic, save for wishes, and I was his current master. Not once did he pressure me to finish my wish.

  It hung over me like a noose, a threat of what would be to come if I messed it up. Like last time.

  Finally, I came to him in his hot-pink office, admitting I didn’t know what to wish for. I didn’t know how to fix the world or give him everything he wanted.

  His smile was kind. “Honey, I let you become my master because I trusted you to make the right decision, and I still do. Now you’re going to have to trust me.”

  I was afraid I knew what he wanted. “Don’t ask me to join you with Brogan in death. The school needs you. I need you.” Even Thatch needed him, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Khaba’s strict enforcement of rules, Fae knowledge, and magic kept us all safe.

  “I’ve been preparing for this moment for a long time. Years really.” He removed a scroll of paper from his desk and handed it to me.

  I unrolled it and read. I had expected it would take paragraphs with clauses and semicolons to fully express the minutiae to govern all the rules necessary to ensure Khaba wouldn’t become evil again if he was freed from his enslavement. What was written was fairly simple.

  I read it twice, then said the words out loud. “I wish for Khaba to be his own sovereign, beholden to no one else, his body his vessel of magic to be used as needed for the good of the school and those he holds dear.” With those words, his office filled with smoke. Khaba stretched and moaned. I watched him shift from a man to a translucent form and back again. Tattooed across his chest was the image of the school, the sprawling wings stretching out in different directions. The ink drawing captured the mishmash of architecture that made the school a monstrosity.

  Khaba rubbed his hand across the image. He closed his eyes. “I’m making my first wish as a free man.”

  “What is that?” I asked.

  “Gifting some books to the librarian and some special plants to our favorite herbalism teacher.” He removed the staff and student handbooks from his desk. “My second wish involves some editing of school policies.”

  “My next wish is one I need you to grant.” Khaba held up the bong from where it rested on his desk. “I hope you don’t mind if I keep this as a souvenir.” He winked at me. “I have a feeling Grandmother Bluehorse and I might need it for medicinal purposes tonight.”

  It wasn’t the happy ending I wanted to give Khaba, but it was as close to one as I could give him.

  “There’s one more thing,” I said. “We need to discuss the Princess of Lies and Truth and make sure she doesn’t keep hurting people.”

  If we could stop her, we would make all our wishes come true.

  I enjoyed spending time with Felix Thatch in the morning before school for our lessons and after dinner on weekdays, though I wished it had been quality time with him, not just working on magic. He increased the frequency of our lessons. I sensed an urgency in him, a desire to teach me something I wasn’t quite mastering, even though it seemed like I was making steady progress in remote viewing, numbing pain, and occasionally even controlling pleasure when it popped up in my fantasies in the fear chair.

  He met me every day now, whether it was a lesson in the morning or making an effort to spend time with me in other ways that didn’t involve pleasure. He painted with me in the art room in the afternoon. He even showed up to a few Art Club meetings, though he hid behind his easel in the corner, barking at students to stay away and not look at his masterpiece when they tried to peek.

  During one of the Art Club meetings, Imani teased him. “I bet I know who you’re painting.” She turned over her shoulder to smile at me.

  “I will have you know, I’m not painting anyone. There’s no subject in this room enticing enough to inspire me to paint a portrait.”

  “Then why do you keep looking at Miss Lawrence?” Greenie asked.

  The girls giggled.

  “I’m not. I’m painting her stapler. It’s the most aesthetically pleasing stapler I’ve ever seen.” Even he couldn’t keep a straight face at that fib. His eyes sparkled as they met mine from across the room.

  After all the students from the after-school club had left, I locked the door behind them. “The most beautiful stapler in all the land, eh? I guess I know what to get you for Christmas this year.”
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  He shrugged. “I hope you do. I have need of a new one.”

  I didn’t know when I was going to have time to get Christmas shopping in or if I wanted to risk going to the Morty Realm.

  “You’ve been spending a lot of time with me lately. You better be careful, or students are going to talk.” I suspected he cared about that more than I did. The only part that bothered me was that a rumor might start about us, and it would hurt Josie’s feelings I hadn’t told her.

  “Someone has to keep an eye on you.” His eyes twinkled. “And your stapler.”

  He remained an appropriate distance away, just out of reach. I closed the space between us. He placed his hands on my shoulders, his fingers warm and reassuring through my blouse. I wanted to lean against him, but he held me in place, staring into my face with longing. He didn’t hug me or hold me, which was what I wanted.

  “I miss you,” I said.

  “I’m right here.”

  “I miss your arms around me.”

  “I know.” He squeezed my shoulders. “Try to be patient.”

  “I’m not a patient person.”

  “Yes, you are. I’ve seen you interact with delinquent children. Your heart is full of patience for them.” There was so much longing in his eyes, I knew it wasn’t just me this situation was hard for. “I need you to have some patience for this situation as well.”

  I sighed in exasperation. “No, you want me to have restraint.”

  His lips curled into a tentative smile. “One hug and one kiss.”

  I threw my arms around his waist. He folded his arms around me and buried his face against my neck.

  “What do you think about going on a date?” I asked. “We could be alone, and we could throw restraint and patience to the wind. We could go somewhere off school grounds where the Fae wouldn’t find us.”

  “Fae can always find you.”

  “Someplace in the Morty Realm with lots of electronics. A concert. Or a laser light show. Or even—”

  He kissed me, cutting off my next suggestion. When he drew back, I had forgotten what I’d been about to say.

  “I have been thinking upon your suggestion for entrapment,” he said. “I’ve discussed the matter with Khaba and . . . our new principal.” He said “principal” as though he doubted the title. “I have suggested that the Fae trespassing has occurred during or shortly after our lessons, which means there could be a possibility that a Fae has a vested interest in seeing you during your lessons out of . . . curiosity.”

  I snorted out a laugh at how ridiculous that excuse was. Even if a Fae was curious about my magic lessons, my secret enemy’s motive had nothing to do with anything so innocent or banal. I could only hope no one else suspected as much.

  I had been inside that woman’s mind, even if it had only been briefly back when I’d sensed her spying on us in Thatch’s room. The landscape of her soul had felt alien and cold, the emotions she wore in her body so much more intense than any human’s I had ever felt. Never before had I imagined a person could be made out of pure hatred and rage, brewed and bottled up.

  I was surprised Thatch had been willing to compromise and consider my plan.

  “What about the part about us being intimate together and everyone running in and catching us naked?” I asked.

  “We will do exactly what you suggested. I will sit in my chair five feet from you and touch you with . . . my mind.” The hint of a smile touched his lips.

  I laughed, understanding him at once. At last we had a plan. I felt good about this. I was doing something, and we would be able to catch that spy who wanted to harm us and our students as well.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Daughter of a Fae

  The meeting was small, consisting of the staff who would play a part in the plan. Only the most powerful Witchkin teachers were invited, those who stood a chance to hold their own against a Fae. A group of us and a well-planned trap united against one of them.

  Gertrude Periwinkle, Felix Thatch, Pinky, Principal Dean, and Khaba sat around the conference-room table. All of them excelled at wards and protective magic, and would be playing a role in the coming trap. The only Merlin-class Celestor and powerful Witchkin extraordinaire absent was Vega. She lacked a quality the rest of them had. All of the other staff were trustworthy enough not to blab about what we were doing. Josie and Pro Ro were in on the plan as well, but they would be keeping an eye on Vega to make sure she wasn’t compromised and playing a part in aiding the Fae.

  I didn’t think she was, but if she was magically compelled not to speak about who my enemy was and what she was doing, then she also might be forced to do other deeds against her will.

  “We shall act as though it is a natural and ordinary lesson, trying to perform as few variables as possible in order to not raise suspicion with this Fae,” Thatch said from the other end of the table. “We will keep our sound-barrier spell up, as well as the other spells I use in my office.”

  “Tell me, Professor Thatch,” Khaba said, eyes narrowing. “Why all the wards and protective measures for a mere lesson? Using so much magic must be taxing if you do this for every class.” Three buttons of his shirt were unfastened, not enough to reveal the school tattoo, but more than the principal found acceptable.

  Pinky had gone back to wearing a kilt, without a shirt.

  “By this point, it’s no secret that we harbor the daughter of the most powerful Witchkin of our lifetime.” Thatch folded his hands in front of him calmly, looking like a patient teacher imparting a lesson to a pupil. “It’s natural Witchkin and Fae will be curious about Miss Lawrence’s education. I make it a habit of using a sound-barrier spell in order to keep students from listening in. The rest of my wards are to keep Fae from gaining access to Miss Lawrence. Attempts have already been made to kidnap her, coerce her, and use her for their personal gain. The less the Raven Court or any other court knows about her education, skills, and natural talents, so much the better.”

  The corners of Khaba’s mouth turned down. He looked to me, searching my eyes as if wondering if I was as unconvinced as he was. I smiled at him reassuringly.

  Principal Dean stood up, his metal body clunking on the floor. “If I had it my way, this school wouldn’t harbor such a dangerous Witchkin, and we wouldn’t have to go through all this for one person’s safety. If I dismissed Miss Lawrence—”

  My eyes went wide.

  “According to the employee handbook—” Khaba folded his hands before him, a polite smile on his face. “—you cannot fire a teacher based on the grounds that outside influences wish to do her harm. You may only dismiss teachers for misconduct, which she hasn’t committed.”

  Not that he remembered. I couldn’t even ask Khaba if he remembered me resurrecting Brogan because all crimes had been “forgiven and forgotten.”

  Chuck Dean glowered at Khaba.

  “Shall we focus on our plan?” Thatch asked.

  “Yes. What are you going to do after you catch this Fae?” Khaba asked. “It’s one thing if this is a rogue Fae that can be turned in to the Fae Council for them to deal with, it’s another if this is someone acting under orders for the Raven Court.”

  Gertrude Periwinkle spoke in her library-volume whisper. “What if it’s the Raven Queen herself?”

  I already suspected this wasn’t the Raven Queen.

  “If it turns out to be the Raven Queen, or one working in her service, then we kill her before she kills one of us,” Thatch said.

  “And risk an all-out war?” Principal Dean asked. “It’s one thing to trap a Fae, mates, but we don’t need to bring down a war on my school. Anyone associated with a Fae Court has got to be dealt with by going through the proper channels.”

  Right, because he’d gone through the proper channels when he’d tried to kick King Viridios out of the school.

  The staff argued over the red-tape bureaucratic rules of Fae oppressors. I worried they were going to argue so much th
ey wouldn’t come to any kind of agreement at all and have no plan—which it turned out they didn’t. If they caught a Fae, no one knew what to do with her.

  It wasn’t reassuring.

  My lesson with Thatch was in his office while other teachers were placed at various other locations around the school. Thatch constructed wards to dampen sound, more so the staff didn’t hear us talk about my magic—or our relationship—than for the Fae spy. I wasn’t sure what I was more nervous about, being caught by a Fae or caught by my friends in my clandestine romance.

  Our lesson consisted mostly of me sitting in the fear chair as I projected my awareness outside myself. I grazed imaginary fingers over Thatch’s cheek and traced the line of his jaw with invisible lips. We took turns stretching electrical impulses outside of ourselves to caress each other. It would have been sexy if I hadn’t been so nervous.

  “Relax into your affinity,” Thatch said. “You need to be able to focus and activate your magic no matter the circumstance.”

  Relax. Easy for him to say with his Mr. Spock-like training. I resisted the urge to make a face at him.

  His chair creaked and fabric rustled. My eyes were closed, and I didn’t know if I was using remote viewing or it was my imagination that saw him physically leave his comfy chair to sit on the desk near me. After another moment, I felt his lips warm against my neck. I didn’t see him do this, only felt it.

  “Was that real or my spirit touching you?” he asked.

  I wasn’t sure. “Your spirit?”

  “Good,” he said.

  The communication between us was important to ensure we were the only ones in the room and the only ones touching each other. I was able to see through my mind as he touched a hand to my knee.

  I tried not to laugh. “This is getting easier.”

  We spent several more minutes practicing touch magic. I was aware enough of my affinity that I could feel the way it sparked when his skin met mine. Even without physical contact, it increased the swirling ball of red energy inside me, but not to the same extent. The more pleasant the touch, the stronger the power inside me surged.