The Indigo Spell b-3

by Richelle Mead

  “You can’t tell,” I blurted out to her. I held up the flask. “Adrian was letting me sneak some of his Kahlua. Stanton’ll kill me if she finds out.”

  Sonya looked understandably startled. “I didn’t think you drank.”

  “Tonight’s been kind of stressful,” I said. It was hardly a lie.

  “And it’s coffee-flavored,” Adrian pointed out, as though that might aid our cause.

  I wasn’t sure if Sonya was buying it, so I attempted a change in subject. “Congratulations, by the way. I didn’t have a chance to talk to you earlier. You look beautiful.”

  Sonya let go of her inquisitiveness and offered me a smile. “Thank you. It’s kind of unreal. Mikhail and I have been through so much . . . there were times I never thought we’d reach this moment. And now . . .” She glanced down at the diamond sparkling on her hand. “Well, here we are.”

  “What are you doing out here, Mrs. Tanner?” Adrian had recovered himself and was back to his outgoing self. “Shouldn’t you be inside gazing adoringly at your husband?”

  She chuckled. “Oh, we’ve got a lifetime of that ahead. Honestly, I just needed to get out of the crowd.” Sonya took a deep breath of the crisp, cold air. “I should probably get back soon. We’re about to throw the bouquet. You aren’t going to miss your chance, are you?” That was to me.

  I scoffed. “I think I’ll sit this one out. I’ve already caused too much speculation tonight.”

  “Ah, yes. Your infamous dance.” Sonya glanced between us, and a bit of her earlier puzzlement returned. “You two look very good together.” Awkward silence fell for a few seconds, and then she cleared her throat. “Well, I’m getting in where it’s warm. Hope you’ll change your mind, Sydney.”

  She disappeared through the service door, and I resisted the urge to beat my head against the wall. “She knows we’re lying. She can tell.” Spirit users were good at reading subtle cues from people, with Sonya being one of the best.

  “Probably,” agreed Adrian. “But I doubt she’s going to guess we were out working magic in a field.”

  A terrible thought came to me. “Oh God. She probably thinks we were off doing—you know—romantic type, um, things—”

  That amused Adrian far more than it should have. “See, there you go again. That’s the first thought that comes to your mind.” He shook his head melodramatically. “I can’t believe you keep accusing me of being the obsessed one.”

  “I’m not obsessed!” I exclaimed. “I’m just pointing out the obvious conclusion.”

  “Maybe to you. But she’s right about one thing: we need to get inside.” He anxiously touched his hair. “I think my hair gel’s frozen.”

  I handed him back the flask and opened the door. Just before stepping through, I hesitated and glanced back at him. “Adrian? Thanks for helping me.”

  “What are friends for?” He caught the door from me and motioned for me to go inside.

  “Yeah, but you went above and beyond tonight for something that has nothing to do with you. I appreciate that. You didn’t have to help. You don’t have the same reasons I have for cracking open the Alchemists.”

  Not knowing what else to say, I gave him a small nod of thanks and went inside. As the warmth and noise of the crowd swallowed us, I thought I heard him say, “I have different reasons.”

  CHAPTER 5

  I LEFT SHORTLY THEREAFTER with the Alchemists and didn’t expect to see Adrian for a little while. He was staying on with the other Moroi a couple more days in Pennsylvania, so there was no chance of a repeat flight together. My trip back to California was quiet and uneventful, though my mind raced with all the developments of the last couple of days. Between Ms. Terwilliger’s cryptic warning and my new lead on Marcus, I had plenty to occupy me.

  A text message from Eddie greeted me when I hailed a cab at the Palm Springs airport: We’re eating at Marquee’s. Wanna join us? A follow-up message soon came: You can drive us back. I directed the driver to take me to a suburb on the far edge of the city rather than Amberwood’s home in Vista Azul. I was hungry, seeing as there’d been no dinner served on the plane in coach, and besides, I wanted my car back in my own hands.

  When I arrived at the restaurant, I found Eddie and Angeline sitting on one side of a booth with Jill on the other. Immediately, I knew why they’d chosen to eat so far from our school. Being away meant Eddie and Angeline could go out as a couple. Back at Amberwood, everyone thought we were related. Eddie, Jill, and I passed ourselves off as siblings, while Angeline was our cousin. Eddie and Angeline had recently started dating, so they’d had to hide their relationship from our classmates to avoid raising suspicions. We already seemed to attract enough attention as it was.

  Angeline was cuddled up in Eddie’s arm. Even he looked like he was having a good time, which was nice to see. He took his responsibilities so seriously and was often so tense that it seemed as though it wouldn’t take much to make him snap in two. Angeline—though uncouth, unpredictable, and often inappropriate—had proven remarkably good for him. That didn’t make him any less diligent in his guardian duties, of course.

  Things were a little different on the opposite side of the table. Jill looked miserable, slumped into the seat with her arms crossed. Her light brown hair hung forward, covering part of her face. After ill-fated romances with a guy who wanted to become a Strigoi and with Eddie’s human roommate, Jill had come to realize that Eddie might very well be the guy for her. It was fitting, too, because for a long time, he’d harbored a secret crush on her, fiercely dedicated to her in the way a knight served his liege lady. He’d never believed he was worthy of Jill, and without any signs of her affection, he’d turned to Angeline—just when Jill had come around and wanted him. At times, it seemed like some sort of Shakespearean comedy . . . until I looked at Jill’s face. Then I’d feel conflicted because I knew if Eddie returned her affection, Angeline would be the one with that sad, sad expression. It was kind of a mess and made me glad to be free of any romantic entanglements.

  “Sydney!” Jill beamed when she saw me, brushing her hair away. Maybe it was because she needed the distraction, or maybe it was because Adrian’s new attitude toward me had lifted some of her moodiness. Regardless, I welcomed a return to the old friendliness in her rather than the brooding and accusing looks she’d harbored since I rejected him.

  “Hey, guys.” I slid into the booth beside her. Immediately, I opened up my cell phone’s picture album and handed it to her since I knew she’d want to know about the wedding right away. Despite all the intrigue that had gone down there, I had managed to take some pictures without the other Alchemists noticing. Even if she’d seen some of it through Adrian’s eyes, Jill would still want to examine everything in detail.

  She sighed with happiness as she scanned the pictures. “Look at Sonya. She’s so pretty.” Angeline and Eddie leaned across the table to get a look. “Oh. And there’s Rose and Lissa. They look great too.” There was an odd note in Jill’s voice as she spoke. She was friends with Rose, but her half sister was still a bit of an enigma. Jill and Lissa hadn’t even known they were sisters until recently, and the volatile political environment had forced Lissa to behave more as a queen than a sister toward Jill. It was a difficult relationship for both of them.

  “Did you have a fun time?” Eddie asked me.

  I considered my answer for several moments. “I had an interesting time. There’s still a lot of tension between the Alchemists and your people, so some of it was a little weird.”

  “At least Adrian was there. Must have been nice to have someone you know,” said Angeline, in well-meaning ignorance. She pointed to a picture I’d taken of the reception hall. My intent had been to get a full shot of the venue for Jill, but Adrian had happened to walk into the shot, posed and perfect like some handsome spokesmodel hosting the event. “Always so pretty.” Angeline shook her head in disapproval. “Everyone there is. I guess that means there weren’t any celebratory wrestling matches?”

&nbs
p; It was a sign of Angeline’s progress that she’d deduced that so quickly. Her people, the Keepers, lived in the wilds of West Virginia, and their openness to romance between vampires, dhampirs, and humans was only one of their more bizarre customs. Friendly fights broke out often, and Angeline had had to learn that such behaviors weren’t acceptable out here in mainstream America.

  “Not while I was there,” I said. “But hey, maybe something went down after I left.” That brought grins to Jill’s and Eddie’s faces and a hopeful look to Angeline’s.

  A waitress came by, and I ordered Diet Coke and a salad. Maybe I’d loosened up in my tight calorie counting, but I swore I could still taste the sugar from all the wedding cake I’d eaten after the spell.

  Angeline tightened her hold on Eddie’s arm and smiled up at him. “If you ever get to see my home, you can fight my brother Josh to show that you’re worthy of me.”

  I had to swallow a laugh. I’d seen the Keepers’ community and knew she was absolutely serious. I worked to keep a straight face. “Aren’t you breaking a lot of rules by being together without that having happened yet?”

  Angeline nodded, looking a little glum. “My mom would be so scandalized if she knew. But I guess this is a unique situation.”

  Eddie smiled indulgently at her. I think sometimes he thought we were exaggerating about the Keepers. He was going to be in for a shock if he ever did visit them. “Maybe I can fight a bunch of your relatives to make up for it,” he said.

  “You might have to,” she said, not realizing he was joking.

  It was hardly romantic banter, but Jill looked decidedly uncomfortable discussing their relationship. She turned to me, very obviously trying not to look at them. “Sydney, what are we going to do about Christmas?”

  I shrugged, unsure what she was asking. “The usual, I guess. Give presents. Sing songs. Have Yuletide duels.” Angeline lit up at that.

  Jill rolled her eyes. “No, I mean, we’re going to be on winter break in a few weeks. Is there any way . . . is there any way we can go home?”

  There was a plaintive note in her voice, and even Eddie and Angeline broke their mutual admiration to stare at me. I shifted under their scrutiny. Angeline wasn’t as concerned about visiting the Keepers, but I knew Eddie and Jill missed their friends and family. I wished I could give them the answer they wanted to hear.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “You’ll be staying at Clarence’s for break. We can’t risk . . . well, you know.” I didn’t need to emphasize the need for Jill’s safety. We were all familiar with that refrain. Ian’s comment about how fragile the throne was drove home the importance of what we did.

  Jill’s face fell. Even Eddie looked disappointed. “I figured,” she said. “I just hoped . . . that is, I miss my mom so much.”

  “We can probably get a message to her,” I said gently.

  I knew that was no substitute for the real thing. I was able to make occasional phone calls to my own mom, and hearing her voice was a million times better than any email could be. I even got to talk to my older sister, Carly, sometimes, which always cheered me up since she was so bright and funny. My younger sister, Zoe . . . well, she was a different story. She wouldn’t take my calls. She’d nearly been initiated into the Alchemists—to take on this mission, in fact—when I’d stolen it from her. I’d done it to protect her from committing to the Alchemists so young, but she’d seen it as an insult.

  Looking at Jill’s sad face, I felt my heart clench. She had been through so much. Her new royal status. Targeted by assassins. Fitting in to a human school. Her disastrous and deadly romances. And now enduring Eddie and Angeline. She handled it all with remarkable strength, always resolutely going through with what she had to do even if she didn’t want to do it. Lissa was praised for being such an exemplary queen, but there was a regality and strength to Jill as well that many underestimated. Glancing up, I caught a spark in Eddie’s eyes as he too seemed to recognize and admire that about her.

  After dinner, I took them back to Amberwood and was pleased to see that my car was in perfect shape. I drove a brown Subaru named Latte, and Eddie was the only other person I trusted behind the wheel. I dropped him off at the boys’ dorm and then took Angeline and Jill back to ours. As we were walking in the door, I caught sight of Mrs. Santos, a teacher I knew by reputation.

  “You guys go ahead,” I told Jill and Angeline. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  They left, and I walked across the lobby, waiting patiently for Mrs. Santos to finish a discussion with our dorm matron, Mrs. Weathers. When Mrs. Santos started to turn around and leave, I caught her attention.

  “Mrs. Santos? I’m Sydney Melrose. I wondered if I could—”

  “Oh, yes,” she said. “I know who you are, dear. Ms. Terwilliger raves about you all the time at our department meetings.” Mrs. Santos was a kindly-looking woman with silver and black hair. Rumor had it she’d be retiring soon.

  I flushed a little at the praise. “Thank you, ma’am.” She and Ms. Terwilliger were both history teachers, though Mrs. Santos’s focus was on American history, not world. “Do you have a minute? I wanted to ask you something.”

  “Of course.”

  We stepped off to the side of the lobby, out of the incoming and outgoing dorm traffic. “You know a lot about local history, right? Southern California?”

  Mrs. Santos nodded. “I was born and raised here.”

  “I’m interested in nontraditional architecture in the Los Angeles area,” I told her, the lie rolling easily off my lips. I’d thought about this in advance. “That is, non-Southwest styles. Do you know any neighborhoods like that? I’d heard there were some Victorian ones.”

  She brightened. “Oh, yes. Absolutely. Fascinating subject. Victorian, Cape Cod, Colonial . . . there are all sorts. I don’t have all the information on me, but I could email you when I get home tonight. There are several I know off the top of my head, and I know a historian who could help you with others.”

  “That’d be great, ma’am. Thank you so much.”

  “Always happy to help a star pupil.” She winked as she started to walk away. “Maybe next semester you’ll do an independent study with me. Provided you can tear yourself away from Ms. Terwilliger.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind,” I said.

  As soon as she was gone, I texted Ms. Terwilliger. Mrs. Santos is going to tell me about historical neighborhoods. The response came quickly: Excellent. Come over right now. I scowled as I typed back: I just got here. Haven’t even been in my room. To which she replied: Then you can get here that much faster.

  Maybe that was true, but I still took the time to put my suitcase back in my room and change out of my travel clothes. Ms. Terwilliger lived pretty close to the school and looked as though she’d been pacing in circles when I arrived at her house.

  “Finally,” she said.

  I glanced at the time. “It’s only been fifteen minutes.”

  She shook her head and again wore the same grim expression she’d had out in the desert. “Even that might be too much. Follow me.”

  Ms. Terwilliger’s home was a little bungalow that could have doubled as a New Age store or possibly a cat shelter. The level of clutter set my teeth on edge. Spell books, incense, statues, crystals, and all sorts of other magical items sat in piles in all rooms of the house. Only her workshop, the room she led me to, was neat and orderly—even to levels I approved of. Everything was clean and organized, to the point of being labeled and alphabetized. A large worktable sat in the center of the room, completely cleared off, save for a stunning necklace I’d never seen before. The chain was made of intricate gold loops, and the pendant was a deep red cabochon stone in a lacy gold setting.

  “Garnet?” I asked.

  “Very good,” she said, lifting the necklace. The candlelight in the room seemed to make every part of it glitter.

  “It’s lovely,” I said.

  She held it out to me. “It’s for you.”

  I stepped back u
neasily. “For . . . me? I . . . I mean, thank you, but I can’t accept a gift like that.”

  “It’s not a gift,” she said. “It’s a necessity. One that might save your life. Take it and put it on.”

  I refused to touch it. “It’s magical, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” she said. “And don’t give me that look. It’s no different from any of the charms you’ve made for yourself.”

  “Except that anything you’d make . . .” I swallowed as I stared into the depths of that bloodred jewel. “It’s going to be a lot more powerful than anything I can create.”

  “That’s exactly the point. Now here.” She thrust it so close to me that it nearly swung out and hit me in the face.

  Steeling myself, I reached out and took it from her. Nothing happened. No smoke or sparks. No searing pain. Seeing her expectant look, I fastened it around my neck, letting the garnet lie next to my cross.

  She sighed, her relief nearly palpable. “Just as I’d hoped.”

  “What?” I asked. Even if I sensed nothing special about it, the garnet felt heavy around my neck.

  “It’s masking your magical ability,” she said. “No one who meets you should be able to tell that you’re a magic user.”

  “I’m not a magic user,” I reminded her sharply. “I’m an Alchemist.”

  A small flicker of a smile played over her lips. “Of course you are—one who uses magic. And to a particularly powerful person, that would be obvious. Magic leaves a mark on your blood that permeates your whole body.”

  “What?” I couldn’t have been more shocked if she’d said I’d just contracted a deadly disease. “You never told me that before!”

  “It wasn’t important,” she said with a small shrug. “Until now. I need you hidden. Do not take that off. Ever.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “Ma’am, I don’t understand.”

  “All will be revealed in time—”