Cerys moved her hands rhythmically, as though conducting an orchestra. More roots broke through the ground and latched onto Mia’s arms, holding her in place.
“Her mouth,” I said in a stage whisper. “So she can’t perform an incantation.”
Cerys didn’t seem to think of that. She appeared satisfied with the roots. My magic was still whirling around in my system, begging for action. I couldn’t resist. As surreptitiously as I could, I angled my wand so that it pointed at a smattering of leaves on the ground. I brought one of the larger leaves to Mia’s lips and sealed it across her mouth. Cerys frowned, confused as to how the leaf got there.
Bryn gave my wand a light smack. “Let her do it by herself,” she hissed. “She’s actually an earth witch, remember?”
Cerys narrowed her eyes at me briefly before returning her attention to Mia. She clearly didn’t want to expose me to the professor. She also wanted to show me up because her next move was more impressive than anything I could do with earth magic. The leaves fell from the neighboring trees and grouped together to form figures before they hit the ground. Three leaf monsters flanked Cerys by the time the spell was finished.
“Cool. How’d she do that?” someone said.
“Excellent work, Miss Davies.” Professor Mayweather seemed genuinely pleased. No one was going to want to follow Cerys’s act.
A figure on the ground caught my attention. “Hestia?” I queried. Chancellor Tilkin’s familiar trotted over to me, a note attached to her front leg.
“Dani Degraff is in trouble?” Justin said, and clutched his chest in mock horror. “Someone write this day down for posterity.”
I ignored him and removed the note from Hestia’s leg. The cat gave me a resentful look before sashaying away. I unfolded the paper and read—Please see me immediately. Your aunt is in need of our assistance.
My aunt? Liliana? I tucked the paper into my cloak pocket.
“Are you in trouble, Dani?” Cerys asked softly.
“No,” I replied, but it seemed that my aunt was. I dusted off my bottom and glanced at Professor Mayweather.
“You may go,” she said simply and turned back to the class.
I hurried after Hestia, wondering what on earth my aunt could possibly need from me.
Chapter Two
Bryn and I stood on the doorstep of my aunt’s impressive home, my stomach in tight knots. I hadn’t even realized I was nervous until now.
“What’s the matter?” Bryn asked, noticing my hesitance. I was glad that Chancellor Tilkin encouraged me to bring a friend. She thought it would be a more realistic exercise if I had a partner with me. Bryn jumped at the chance to do fieldwork, even if it was only helping my aunt. I still had no idea what to expect, other than there was a problem that she couldn’t bring to the AMF. She’d made the chancellor promise absolute discretion.
“I haven’t seen her in some time,” I replied. Aunt Liliana had chosen not to attend my grandmother’s funeral. Although my parents hadn’t expressed their disappointment to me, I’d felt it whenever her name was mentioned. Of course, they’d been more upset over my aunt’s failure to keep up appearances than anything else. Typical.
“She must like you enough to ask for your help specifically,” Bryn said.
“It just tells me how desperate she must be,” I countered. “She tends to steer clear of my little branch of the family. We muddy her pristine waters.”
Bryn grew impatient and pulled the thick red rope that hung alongside the enormous arched doors. The door opened almost immediately, revealing a stocky man with thinning hair and a pleasant expression.
“Hello, Luther,” I said.
“Miss Danielle.” He didn’t seem surprised to see me. My aunt must have alerted him to our impending arrival. “Please come in. How was your journey?” The chancellor had kindly arranged for transportation to and from the train station, and Bryn and I had spent the train ride itself talking about which AMF divisions suited us best.
“The journey was long but uneventful,” I said.
“As it should be, miss,” Luther replied.
“This is my friend, Bryn Morrow,” I said. “Bryn, meet Luther, my aunt’s household manager.”
“Is that like a butler?” Bryn asked, following me into the foyer.
“Sort of,” I said.
“Do you give out business cards with that title?” Bryn asked him.
“No, miss. No business cards.” Luther appeared mildly amused. “Your aunt is in the formal parlor room.”
“Thanks,” I said. “You don’t need to announce us. I know the way.”
I noticed Bryn checking out the ornate foyer. My aunt’s house was heavily decorated—almost to the point of cluttered, except every knickknack was worth a small fortune. She loved her collections.
“What does your aunt do for a living?” Bryn asked.
“She marries well,” I replied, and heard Luther clear his throat to cover a laugh. “Come on. The room is this way.” I ignored the sensation of my heart thundering inside my chest. Aunt Liliana was my mother’s younger sister. She didn’t intimidate me. Never mind that she disregarded my nuclear family and contributed to our general feelings of exclusion.
“Great Goddess of the Moon. Look at you!” Liliana Montrose greeted us from the settee in the formal parlor. She set aside her book and rose to her dainty feet, which were covered in slippers adorned with a stag—her husband’s family crest. Her light brown hair fell to her shoulders in soft curls. She was an attractive woman, no traces of the pinched and careworn look that plagued my mother.
“It’s good to see you, Aunt Liliana,” I said.
“My darling niece, you look incredible.” She scrutinized me from head to toe before kissing each cheek. Then she turned to examine Bryn. “And who is your gorgeous friend?”
Bryn grunted. “I don’t get to hear that every day when I’m standing next to the magical supermodel.”
Aunt Liliana offered an appreciative smile. “Danielle favors her paternal grandmother. A stunning witch before her unfortunate turn.” My aunt’s lips grew thin. “Can I offer anyone tea?”
“Tea would be wonderful,” I replied.
Aunt Liliana touched an amulet around her neck and Luther materialized in the doorway. “Tea, please, Luther.”
He bowed slightly before disappearing.
“Is he faster than he looks or is there magic at work?” Bryn whispered.
My aunt returned to her place on the settee and gestured for us to sit. “There’s always magic at work, my dear. Otherwise, what’s the point of being a witch?”
“Bryn grew up in Terrene,” I said. “She’s still getting accustomed to our way of life.”
My aunt’s brow lifted. “Is that so?”
It occurred to me that I should have kept Bryn’s background to myself. Neither of us wanted to advertise Bryn’s connection to dark magic.
“My mother was one hundred percent human,” Bryn said, recovering nicely. “She insisted on keeping me with her and exposing me to a non-magical lifestyle.” She omitted the part about hiding from her father—Volans Moldark, one of the most evil sorcerers in living memory. Thankfully, he was dead now, so Bryn no longer had to live her life in fear.
Aunt Liliana sniffed. “I can think of someone else who could have benefitted from a non-magical lifestyle and saved us all a huge setback.”
I stiffened. She was going to go there now—really? We’d only been here five minutes.
Luther came into the room with a tray of tea and placed it on the coffee table between us. He left as quietly as he’d entered. I laughed to myself, realizing that he was the opposite of Hazel Hazeldine, who couldn’t help but interrupt any conversation in the chancellor’s office. Her idea of boundaries was very different from Luther’s.
“Who’s that?” Bryn asked.
“Certainly you must be acquainted with the history of our family’s demise,” Aunt Liliana said, gearing up for her polished rant.
Bryn’s brow furrowed. “Aren’t you her mother’s sister?”
My aunt’s peal of laughter filled the room. “Do you honestly think that matters? Degraff, Montrose, even our cousins were tainted by that witch’s inability to control herself.” Her disdain was evident.
I gritted my teeth. “That woman recently passed away. Please show some respect.”
My aunt’s nostrils flared. “Why should I? She showed no respect for us. She was a blight on proper society.”
I balled my fists, struggling not to lose my temper. “Grandmother suffered from an addiction.”
Aunt Liliana arched an eyebrow. “And what? That absolves her of wrongdoing? Of shaming this family and bringing us all to ruin?”
“You seem to be making out okay from what I can see,” Bryn said, making a show of surveying the elegant room with its expensive furnishings.
“We were fortunate that we managed to hold on to many of the Montrose heirlooms, unlike the Degraffs,” my aunt said with a cursory glance in my direction. It was true—we’d sold most of our antiques and heirlooms in order to keep the house itself where my parents still lived. “Which is one reason it’s so distressing that one has gone missing.”
“Gone missing?” I echoed. “Is that why we’re here?”
My aunt nodded solemnly. “Half a sword. The hilt, the crossguard, and the top part of the blade.”
I squinted. “You own half a sword?”
“Yes,” she said, as though that were perfectly normal. “I kept it on the wall in the library with other interesting artifacts. When I went into the library with my morning tea, there were a few papers scattered on the floor beside my desk. I looked around the room to make sure everything was in order and found the sword missing. There was no other sign of anyone having been there. No broken locks or open windows. The doors and windows are warded and locked anyway.”
Bryn leaned forward. “I’m going to put on my Captain Obvious hat for a hot minute and ask why you had a broken sword hanging on the wall?”
“I display many family heirlooms, as you can see.” My aunt gestured around the room, where I spotted a variety of paintings, tapestries, and objets d’art. “The half sword was the only item missing.”
“Is it worth us chasing after half a sword?” I asked. “What do we know about it?”
“We know your great-grandfather was no fool,” my aunt replied. “He never kept anything that didn’t have real value. If he had it squirreled away, trust me, it’s worth chasing after.” Her gaze lowered to the floor. “Please don’t tell your mom.”
I balked. “Why not?” Not that I’d been planning on it. My mother and I weren’t exactly close.
“Because I don’t want word getting out that my home is vulnerable to theft,” my aunt said vaguely.
She worried that my mother would gossip about the burglary? Suddenly, it hit me. It had nothing to do with alerting potential burglars to a golden opportunity. She didn’t want my mother to know that her younger sister had hidden objects of value from her, while my mother was struggling to make ends meet. It took all my strength not to hex my aunt right then and there. Her selfishness was astounding.
“Why call the academy for help?” Bryn asked. “We’re not exactly certified agents.”
Aunt Liliana chewed her lip. “I’d rather the AMF not know about my collection of antiques.”
My radar pinged. “Do you have items here that you shouldn’t?”
“Possibly,” my aunt hedged. “When I took things from my grandfather’s estate, I didn’t have them appraised, certainly not the ones he’d kept hidden.”
“In case they were hidden because they violated certain laws or regulations?” Bryn queried.
My aunt nodded. “My grandfather traveled extensively during his youth, where he acquired many precious artifacts.”
“Maybe some he shouldn’t have had in his possession,” I said knowingly. That fit with my mother’s description of her grandfather.
Aunt Liliana drummed her fingers on the desk. “I won’t pretend he was a perfect man. I imagine some of his wealth was ill-gotten in his younger years. He had a brash reputation.”
“Yet my grandmother is the one who you believe tainted the Montrose name,” I said.
“You shouldn’t worry, Danielle,” my aunt said. “From what I hear, you’re well placed to restore honor and glory to the family. Why do you think I asked for you specifically?”
“Because you knew I would help and keep my mouth shut about it,” I said.
“Of course,” my aunt replied. “But that wasn’t the only reason. Your skills have always been apparent. We’ve simply been waiting for you to grow into them.”
“What about you?” Bryn asked my aunt. “What do you excel in?”
Bryn was so blunt, I could have kissed her. My aunt blinked. “Me?”
“Yes, you,” Bryn said. “It seems there were several family members between then and now that could have smoothed over the whole ruined family vibe. Why not you?”
My aunt’s lips curled into a sneer. “My talents lie elsewhere.”
“Marrying rich?” Bryn asked. “Not sure that qualifies as a talent.”
My aunt scoffed. “Don’t be so sure, young witch. We all make sacrifices to get what we want.”
I changed the subject before the conversation got out of hand. “Any idea who may have taken your heirloom? Who knew it was here?”
“Anyone who’s ever been in my library,” she replied. “It’s had its share of admirers over the years. Such a unique piece.”
“Are we talking about a lot of paranormals?” I asked. “Guests at big parties?”
“Not really,” she said. “I close this room off to parties and such.”
“Has anyone shown an unusual interest in it that you can recall?” I asked.
“I’ve been thinking quite a bit, and the one incident that springs to mind is Hunter. He’s a dear friend, though. I hate to even make the suggestion.”
“What was the incident?” Bryn asked.
My aunt’s gaze traveled around the room, remembering. “It wasn’t that long ago, which is why it’s so fresh in my mind. He liked the rune markings on the hilt. He asked about the sword’s origin.” She blew out a breath. “I was fairly inebriated at that point, so I don’t recall much else.”
“If he’s your dear friend, why do you think he would sneak in and steal it?” Bryn asked.
“Well, he is a goblin,” my aunt said. “They’re a sneaky sort by nature. Maybe his genetics got the better of him.”
Nothing like a little racism to kick off an investigation. “But you said you’re friends with him,” I pressed.
“He’s involved in a lot of the same charitable organizations,” my aunt explained. “So we travel in the same social circles. He’s often here for cocktails. More importantly, he’s a Wiggin. As far as goblins go, that’s a solid family name.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Even with her own negative experience, she still was willing to make assumptions based on a family name.
“Where does Hunter live?” Bryn asked.
“Not far. He has an amazing log cabin,” my aunt said. “It was custom built by hamadryads.”
“I would think tree nymphs would be against log cabins,” Bryn remarked. “Don’t they die if their tree dies?”
“That’s a myth,” Aunt Liliana said dismissively. “They don’t mind. Makes them feel useful.”
“I guess we’ll pay a visit to Hunter Wiggin in the morning,” I said.
“Do me a favor,” my aunt said. “Don’t tell him I sent you. I don’t want to have an issue with him at the next event.”
“Sure thing,” I replied. Don’t tell the AMF about my secret stash. Don’t tell my mom about the sword. Don’t tell Hunter about her accusation. A lot of secrets right from the start. “Where should Bryn and I sleep tonight?”
“I’ve had Luther make up two rooms for you,” she said.
“Don’t go to any trouble,�
� Bryn said. “We share at the academy. We don’t mind sharing here. Less sheets to wash.”
“It’ll be luxurious with two of us,” I said. “Usually, there are two more.”
“Now would be a good time to freshen up before dinner,” my aunt said. “I think you’ll find the bedroom is different from what you’re used to. I hope you enjoy it.”
I said nothing because I remembered the room from childhood visits. It was hard not to, given how impressive it was.
“Dinner’s at seven?” I queried. My family had always adhered to a strict schedule when it came to meal times.
“Yes,” my aunt said. “Wilhelm is out of town. Otherwise, he’d be joining us.”
“That’s too bad,” I said. He’d been nice enough, the few times I’d met him.
We finished our tea and waited for Luther to escort us to our room.
“Holy smokes,” Bryn said, standing on the threshold of the bedroom. “Your aunt wasn’t kidding about different. This is incredible.” The entire ceiling of the room appeared to be open to the elements. “What happens if it rains?”
“She uses a weather charm,” I explained. “It creates a bubble of perfect weather, so the ceiling can always be open no matter what’s actually happening outside.”
“Clever,” Bryn said, gazing skyward. “We should ask the chancellor to implement something like this at Spellslingers.”
“It would be expensive for the whole academy,” I told her. “Weather charms don’t come cheap.”
“Will you be needing anything, Miss Danielle?” Luther asked. “Miss Bryn?”
“No, thank you, Luther,” I said.
“Very well then,” he said. “The bell is on the table should you change your mind.” He promptly left the room.
Bryn flopped on the bed to watch the clouds drift past overhead. “I could get used to this.”
I suppressed a smile. “I think Gray might miss you.”
“True.” She sighed. “And I’d miss him, too.”
“Hey, his family practically lives in a castle,” I said. “Who needs a charmed ceiling when you have a moat?”
She laughed. “I’d live in a straw hut as long as he was there, too.”
Outfox: Spellslingers Academy of Magic (Sentry of the South Book 2) Page 2
