by J. S. Malcom
Wait, did she just say mage?
I’m about to ask more when we pass a dimly lit room where people sit gathered at a table. I have only a moment to glance in, but I see a group of men and women of mixed ages. Each has his or her eyes closed, and each holds a hand in the air, from which a sparkling vaporous tendril meets those emanating from the hands of the others. Interesting, definitely, but that's not the part that piques my curiosity most. It's that my supernatural warning system just activated, alerting me to the fact that not all of those gathered are human. I also seem to be getting conflicting signals, telling me that at least one of them has to be a vampire and another a Vamanec P’yrin. Given that the bloodsuckers and the body snatchers are natural enemies, this doesn't seem possible.
“What was that about?” I look back over my shoulder as we keep walking.
“A magical fusion experiment,” Beatrice says. “We’re trying to develop a spell allowing for decreased light sensitivity according to biological gradations.”
Of course. That’s what I thought they were doing. “So, it wasn't my imagination that I just passed a room holding both a vampire and a VP?”
“As well as a werewolf,” Beatrice says.
Now that she mentions it, one of those guys did seem unusually hairy. “You’re not worried about them killing each other?”
Beatrice chuckles. “On the contrary. They’ve been friends for years, and they’re some of our most dedicated mages. Although, it helps that lately there's been a truce between supernatural factions. Things were getting a little precarious for a while.”
Beatrice is right, and I'm all too aware of what caused things to heat up to begin with. One of the first things Autumn and I did upon realizing what we were was to take down a Vamanec P’yrin kingpin named Opal. This action was partly orchestrated by Autumn’s Vamanec P’yrin pal, Paul. Still, the Vamanec P’yrin had been the dominant faction for a long time. When that changed, a supernatural power vacuum resulted. That, along with my random vampire hunting sprees, caused conflicts to escalate. Eventually, a truce was established. In many ways, an uneasy truce, but it has managed to hold.
Then something else occurs to me. “I thought this was an organization for witches.”
“Primarily, that’s true, but ours is an agency blind to supernatural species. We care only that you’re a good person—or entity, as the case may be—and that you’re willing to apply your magic for the good of all.”
A nice philosophy. Still, I can’t help but feel skeptical. “What about Grayson?”
Beatrice shrugs. “True, but there were extenuating circumstances, as I’ve explained. Also, Grayson was one of our best mages.”
That one gets a double-take. “How do you figure?”
“Ironically, he was very good at his job. He held immense magical power. While he might have only been pretending to be on our side, he was very good at pretending.”
That night when Grayson saved me from vampires comes to mind. My magic had failed after I’d been stumbling around in Faerie, and I’d returned to this realm firing blanks. Grayson lit up the scene with the magical equivalent of a supernova, bringing the vampires to their knees. Obviously, those were the bad vampires. What I didn’t know until now was that there were good ones. That’s going to take some time to process, but I still see Beatrice’s point. Grayson had an agenda entirely of his own. At the same time, he totally saved my ass. Weird.
We turn into yet another hall, this one ending in two large wooden doors at least ten feet tall. Beatrice glances over as we stride forward. “There was a reason I asked you to come by at this time today. I thought it might be good for you to meet the others.” She glances over at me again, this time lifting an eyebrow. “By the way, remember what they say about books and covers. This group was selected because they’re highly specialized.”
Before I have time to ask what that means, Beatrice gestures with a casual flick of her wrist. Those two massive doors swing open on groaning iron hinges to let us through.
CHAPTER 20
I expect to enter a vast shadowy chamber like the combat magic practice room Grayson took me to weeks ago. Instead, I’m nearly blinded as my eyes are assaulted by sunlight. I slow my gait and wait for my eyes to adjust. I soon realize we’re walking across a grassy field, above us a bright blue sky. This must be the California equivalent of the combat magic practice room. Magic al fresco, I guess.
The field is ringed by a stone wall, within it circular areas also ringed by stone. Each of those areas are blackened within. I assume they must be used for magical target practice. Three people lean against one of those walls, chatting as we approach. Two women—one with dark hair, the other flaming red—watch as we draw closer. There’s also a guy with curly dark hair who doesn’t look up from his phone. Now I know why Beatrice just said what she did about judging books by their covers. I expected a group of robed and bearded mages. Instead, it appears that I’m being assigned to a magical team consisting of witches my same age.
Beatrice said they were highly specialized. In what? Tumblr and Instagram? Sure, I'm young too. I've also gained a ton of magical experience in a short time. Still, half the time I'm shooting in the dark. Right now, I don't need people like me. I need a sage guiding hand. I need people who seriously know the ropes. All the same, I try not to let my doubts show as we reach the group.
“Good afternoon,” Beatrice says. “How is everyone today?”
The redhead tosses her hair over her shoulder and offers Beatrice a smile. Now that we're close enough, I see that she's stunning. She stands a foot taller than me, her physique just the right balance of angles and curves. She has high cheekbones, big eyes, full lips and a button nose. Damn, with her shiny pink nails, designer jeans and tight suede jacket, she looks like a cover girl.
In complete contrast, the girl next to her is a blend of punk and goth. She wears black boots, black jeans and a black denim jacket over a gray T-shirt. She has blue hair, alabaster skin and smoky eyes accented with black eyeliner.
“Cassie, this is Harper and Blair,” Beatrice says, indicating first the glam girl and then the goth chick. Both of them nod, their expressions neutral. Neither speak as they size me up. Okay, fun start.
No doubt sensing it’s his turn, the guy looks up. He pushes dark curls back from his face and hazel eyes meet mine. A jolt of surprise ripples through me.
“And this is Alec,” Beatrice says.
For a moment, I’m too stunned to speak. What are the odds?
“Hey,” he says. He looks at me again. “Have we met?”
It’s not like I think I make the most amazing first impression, but really? We all but collided in the upstairs hall of the Cauldron. I had to dodge his magically flying furniture.
“We live in the same building,” I say.
Alec frowns, studying me as if he’s never seen me before. “Oh. Maybe that’s it.”
Maybe that’s it? Yes, that’s it, you idiot.
Beatrice clears her throat and checks her watch. “Well, I wonder where—”
“What’s that?” Harper points a perfectly manicured finger at the sky.
We all look up as a small round object barrels toward us from one of the castle towers. With the sun behind it, I can’t tell what the hell it is. The world’s fastest fat bird? An incoming missile? Instinctively, I duck and cover as it swoops in over our heads. I clench my eyes shut, and then open them again when I hear laughter. It turns out I’m the one being laughed at for freaking out. Then I watch as a small woman uprights herself and gracefully touches down upon sneaker-clad feet. She’s stocky and at best four feet tall. She has dark skin, a helmet of gray hair and wears a black leather dress. She stares at me as she draw closer.
She stops in front of me to look me up and down. “Who are you?”
I hesitate. “I’m Cassie.”
“Are you always this skittish, Cassie?”
I have no idea how to answer the question. Only when a flying dwarf woman rockets tow
ard me from the sky, feels like it might get me a punch in the face. The best I can manage is, “Not usually.”
“Glad to hear that. You knew witches could fly, right?”
She has me stumped again. “I thought that was…”
I let my words trail off before I say something ridiculous.
“Let me guess. Only when we have a broom tucked between our legs. Is that what you were thinking?”
It’s a ridiculous situation. I’m a freaking witch. A real witch. But, yes, I thought flying witches only existed in storybooks. The ones with brooms between their legs and pointy black hat upon their heads.
“Everyone, this is Regina,” Beatrice says, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “As you can see, she’s more than a little accomplished at levitation as well as other forms of magic. She’ll be taking things from here today.”
Well, that’s good news. I can’t wait to bask a little more in Regina’s sunny personality.
“Good luck,” Beatrice adds, before starting her walk back toward the castle. At least she doesn’t take off flying. Regina’s entrance startled me enough. But, damn, who knew that someone could take levitation to that level? Literally.
Regina looks at the four of us. “Beatrice tells me that each of you possess some form of unique magic.” She runs her eyeballs over each of us, her expression suggesting she remains doubtful. “The problem being,” she adds, “I have yet to witness any indication of these powers myself. So, it only makes sense that we start today’s activities by seeing what each of you can do.”
Regina appraises each of us once more, her gaze lingering on me for a moment. She sighs, changes her mind and stabs a finger at Harper. “You. I understand you consider yourself to be a pyromancer. Is that true?”
Harper’s cheeks color a little. “Well, I’m pretty good at—”
“You wouldn’t be here if you were pretty good. Or maybe I misunderstood something.” Regina hovers into the air so they’re face to face. “How’s your range?”
“Well, I mean I never actually measured—”
“Then I guess we’ll have to determine that for ourselves.”
Regina points toward one of the target rings at the opposite end of the field. The stones around it remain blackened, but an unblemished manikin stands at the center, the figure of a man wearing a trench coat and a fedora. There’s no way that thing was there a minute ago.
Harper looks from Regina to the dummy and then back to Regina again. I can’t help but feel bad for her as her blush deepens.
“What are you waiting for?” Regina says.
Harper turns away from Regina as she concentrates on the target. The thing has to be at least fifty yards away. Her face continues to grow more red, to the point where she’s practically scarlet. Her forehead is also dripping with sweat. The poor things is—
Oh, wait.
She’s not blushing. She’s roasting. I can literally feel the magic rippling off of her, not to mention the heat. My own brow starts to prickle.
With a startling roar, Harper thrusts out her hand to launch a burst of orange light across the field. The dummy explodes in a fireball, the stone wall surrounding it blowing apart. Smoldering stones roll across the grass. As the dummy blazes, black smoke swirling into the sky, it takes me a few seconds to realize that my mouth just dropped open.
Regina grunts. “Not bad.”
Harper wipes sweat from her forehead. “Thanks.”
Regina looks between her three remaining victims. This time she chooses Blair.
“I understand you have anxiety issues.”
Blair looks back at Regina sullenly, blinking long lashes covered with black mascara. “Something like that.”
Regina gestures with her head toward the rest of us. “Have at it,” she says, whatever the hell that means.
Blair sighs and nods. She swivels her eyes between me, Harper and Alec. She looks back to me again, her eyes narrowing this time. I have no idea what she’s trying to do but it doesn’t matter because, behind her, a demon has just appeared on the field. Just like the one I saw the other night, it’s corpse-white and covered with scales. Fucking great. Apparently, all I have to do these days to encounter a demon is step outside.
“Hang on,” I say, pointing downfield. “I’ll handle this.”
Harper and Alec turn to look. Strangely, Blair and Regina keep watching me.
Alec turns to Harper. “What’s she talking about?”
Harper looks at me again. “Handle what?”
I point again. “That demon! What do you think—”
Just as suddenly as it appeared, the demon vanishes. I continue staring wide-eyed for a couple more seconds before I hear Regina say, “Nicely done, Blair.”
Only then do I put it together. Anxiety issues. Was Regina being funny a few minutes ago? I believe so. Good to know she has a sense of humor.
I turn my attention back to Blair. “Wait. Did you just—”
“Sorry,” Blair says. “That one just sort of jumped out at me.”
Alec frowns as he continues to look back and forth between us.
“What just happened?” Harper says.
Regina raises an eyebrow in Blair’s direction. “Care to share again? Perhaps for the group this time?”
Blair lets out another sigh. “Okay.”
The sound of a car suddenly coming our way makes us all turn. It’s small and green with a yellow hood and red doors. The grill is painted to look like a crazy smile, and the headlights modified to look like eyes. I’m not sure if we should run or keep watching as it zooms toward us. At the last moment, it fishtails to a stop a few feet away.
A clown gets out from behind the wheel, sunlight shining on his bulbous forehead. He has blood-red lips, arched black eyebrows and a spiky cloud of orange hair. The back door opens and another clown gets out, this one with pointy teeth. From the other side, another clown gets out. He has a grotesquely thick-lipped mouth and beady yellow eyes. From the driver’s side, another clown gets out, then two more from both back doors. Another one gets out again on the other side. They keep climbing out of the car, an army of creepy clowns that keeps growing in number. They shuffle toward us with leering smiles, staring dementedly as they approach.
“Okay, that’s enough. Turn it off!”
The car and clowns vanish as all eyes go to Alec. He’s gone pale, his eyes still bugging as sweat trickles down his face.
“I wondered who’d be first to crack,” Regina says.
“Okay, so I’m afraid of clowns,” Alec says.
“Who isn’t?” Harper says. “They give me the willies.”
“Yup, me too,” I say. I’ll take a vampire over a clown any day.
“As you’ve undoubtedly determined by now,” Regina says. “Blair is a phobimancer. She can perceive anxieties and make them manifest as visual illusions.”
“Not just other people’s anxieties,” Blair says. “I can cook stuff up on my own too.” She shuffles on her feet, seeming suddenly uncomfortable with the attention. “I mean, just for the record,” she adds.
“Very impressive, Blair,” Regina says.
Yeah. Thanks, Blair. That was fun. I can’t wait for the nightmares.
Regina looks between me and Alec, once again sighing as she looks at me. Geez, I get a little spooked by her incoming missile routine and apparently I’m on her shit list for life.
“Alec,” Regina says. “Your turn.”
Alec nods and takes a deep breath. He bends his elbows at his waist, turning his open hands out taut, fingers spread. Seconds pass as we look around and I’m pretty sure nothing is happening. Then I look down and see it. The grass around us is growing fast. It’s already up to our ankles. And it’s not just the grass, I realize. Plants are rising up around us too. Sprouts become stems, which thicken into stalks, which fill out to become flowers and plants. Once again, my mouth drops open as one of those plants transforms into a sapling tree, which keeps shooting up, its branches spreading and filling out w
ith leaves. Within less than a minute, the thing grows to be at least eight feet tall. As if that’s not freaky enough, a tugging feeling makes me look down again, this time to see that vines have wrapped themselves around my calves. They keep growing until they’re just short of my knees, at which point Alec suddenly relaxes his hands.
“Damn, you can control plants?” Blair says. She too has vines wrapped around her legs, as does Harper.
Regina, I notice, hovers safely above the ground. “I believe there’s more,” she says.
Great. Is this the part where we get sucked into the earth?
Alec nods again, this time lifting a hand into the air. He starts twirling his fingers in a beckoning motion. Birds rise from the trees surrounding the field. At first there’s just a few, but then more follow. Soon, Alec commands a mixed flock of robins, sparrows, swallows and jays. From above, crows and hawks fly down to join in, chasing behind the smaller birds as together they continue to circle.
Alec slowly starts to lower his hand.
Oh no. I look back and forth between us. “Um, should he maybe—”
Alec yanks his hand down with a flourish and the birds start diving straight toward us. This time, I’m not the only one who cowers, covering her head. At the last moment, Alec performs another gesture. The birds streak past just above our heads and rise back into the sky, where they disperse with a cacophony of confused calls, chirps, caws and shrieks.
Alec looks at us and shrugs. “Not just plants,” he says.
I think back to what Lissette said about Sarah Wellingsford. It would seem that her relative, Alec here, inherited very similar powers.
“Bravo, Alec,” Regina says. “Very impressive.” She turns to us and adds, “As you can see, Alec is an accomplished Terramancer. Among other things, if I understand correctly.”
“That’s true,” Alec says. “I’m proficient in multiple forms of magic. Terramancy just happens to be my area of expertise.”
