by Linsey Hall
A door opened at the side of the house.
CHAPTER TEN
Sofia held her breath as she watched the door.
A woman walked out. She had short, messy dark hair and wore jeans and a t-shirt. She dug something out of her pocket. Cigarettes. She raised one to her mouth as she set off across the lawn. She lit it and headed for the water. No familiar followed her, which was strange.
“Will your mind control work on her? We could get information from her. But I’ve got to assume she’s strong.”
“It should. I’m stronger than any of them individually.”
“So is it a good thing or a bad thing that she just walked out?” Did she smell a trap?
“Can’t say. Could be a setup, but they couldn’t know we were coming.”
“It’s so much easier to try to enchant one of them than sneak into the house. Maybe she’ll walk far enough from the house that we can aetherwalk right to her. Then you pull your mind control thing.”
Sofia watched, her breath held, as the woman strolled along the cliff edge that led down to the water. The nearly full moon lit her way. It was a lovely night for a stroll, though cold.
Perhaps this was legit.
Either way, they had to try.
“She’s far enough away now. Let’s go.”
Sofia reached out and placed a hand on Malcolm’s shoulder. Once Kitty had pressed herself up against Malcolm’s leg, he took off his cuff and aetherwalked them to a spot right behind the woman.
She spun around, but before she could say anything or attack, he reached out and touched her temple.
Her wide eyes calmed and she stared at them.
“We’re your friends,” Malcolm said.
“Of course.” Her voice was leaden.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Inara.”
“You’re one of the Salem Coven?”
“Yes. The youngest.”
“What do you know about the spell book?”
“Which one?”
“The most valuable, the one that other witches covet.”
“Ah, the Grimoire. Yes, that one is valuable. It’s protected, though.”
“How so?” Malcolm asked.
“It’s within a special room that is a portal to our afterworld. It’s only accessible on All Hallows’ Eve, when the barrier between the worlds is weakest. It’s the best way to protect it. Only a Salem Witch who is a world walker can access our afterworld. Without dying, at least. And only on All Hallows’ Eve.”
“Tomorrow,” Sofia whispered. No wonder the High Witches had told her to get the book now. But they needed a Salem Witch who was also a world walker. That would be hard, unless….
“Can you take us there tomorrow?”
“Yes. I’m one of the three who can walk across worlds. On years when we need the book, one of us goes to the room to retrieve it. It’s never been me, though. I’ve only been part of the coven for fifty years.”
“Do you need the book this year? Is anyone going to get it?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then tomorrow, you’ll get the book and bring it to us here.”
“My magic isn’t strong enough. I need someone to link me to this world while my soul goes to the afterworld to retrieve the book. Someone whose power equals my own.”
Shit.
“We’ll go with you,” Malcolm said, his voice firm. “I can link your soul to this world. My power is equal to yours. We’ll meet you here and you’ll take us to the room. I’ll help you get the book.”
She nodded.
Unease skittered across Sofia’s skin on little mice feet. This was too easy, wasn’t it? What were the odds that a witch who could help them would walk out of the house right when they needed her to?
“Malcolm, ask her if she often walks outside to smoke. Or did she sense us?”
Malcolm repeated the question.
“I do come outside to smoke often, though I usually just sit on the stoop. But I sensed you in the forest. I walked to draw you close to me. Like wounded prey attracts a predator. I was ready for you. But I don’t know why I didn’t attack you. I always turn away outsiders. But there’s something special about you.” Confusion gleamed in her eyes.
How about, we enchanted you?
“I believe her,” Sofia said.
“So do I. And my enchantment is working.” Malcolm turned his attention back to Inara. “We’ll meet you here tomorrow. Is there a certain time the barrier is weakest?”
“Midnight, of course.”
“Then we’ll meet you in the woods near your house at eleven pm. You won’t mention us to anyone. You won’t remember us until tomorrow, just before eleven.”
Inara nodded. “Until tomorrow.”
She turned and walked away.
“Let’s get out of here,” Sofia said. Though she didn’t want to go back to his house, there wasn’t an alternative. She was so far from her home and aetherwalking took so much energy that she needed to go with him. Actually….
“I want you to take me back to my village,” she said.
“No.” His voice was firm.
“Malcolm. Don’t be such a heavy-handed asshole.”
His brow creased. “Fine. I’ll take you there, but you need to come somewhere with me first.”
“What? Now?” It was past ten, which wasn’t all that late, but she was beat.
“It should be now.”
“Where?”
“To get more help. In case we fail tomorrow.”
“Don’t talk like that.”
“It’s not likely, but it’s possible. We only have one of the coven on our side. There’s a chance the High Witches have sent us on a suicide mission. But we can get around that with help.”
“But who’s more powerful than you? A god?”
“Corrier.”
Sofia stepped back, surprised. “You’d take me to Corrier to ask for help? He must hate me. I left. I abandoned the opportunity he gave me.” She hadn’t even said goodbye that day when Malcolm had chosen becoming a warlock over her. She’d just run.
“You were his favorite pupil.” Malcolm grasped her shoulders and she didn’t move, desperate to hear what he had to say. “It broke his heart when you left. For a long time, he was angry. But he’s softened. He’ll help you.”
Sofia shuddered at the thought. Her throat had that raw, trembly feeling that comes with the need to cry. She’d always loved Corrier, but she’d blocked out thoughts of him when she’d left the apprenticeship. She’d been horrified when she’d learned what he’d sacrificed to become a warlock. What he wanted her to sacrifice.
But now she had a chance to see him again? And Malcolm said he’d forgiven her?
Not that she had anything to be forgiven for, she reminded herself. But it was so hard to separate the reality of a situation from the longing of a student to make a favored professor proud.
“Okay,” she said. “Take me there.”
She held out a hand and he took it.
Nerves made goosebumps pop up on her skin as she waited for Kitty to press against Malcolm’s legs and for him to transport them. She’d lost more than Malcolm when she’d turned away from becoming a warlock. Though Corrier hadn’t been as important to her as Malcolm had, he’d been her most valued mentor. She’d grown to idolize him as she studied under him.
Now she would see him again.
A moment later, Sofia stood in a familiar valley. An enormous cliff rose in front of her, waterfalls pouring down their faces. Cold wind whipped across her cheeks as her boots crunched the snow.
Norway. After leaving, she’d never returned. She turned left, to where she knew Corrier’s fortress would be. It grew out of the cliffside—gray stone, one with the mountain behind it.
“It hasn’t changed,” she said.
“No.”
“Do you come back often?” she asked as they walked to the great wooden doors.
“No,” Malcolm said. He opened his mouth,
then shut it. Finally, he forced the words out. “I have complex feelings regarding Corrier. I wanted to be a warlock, but as a result, I lost you. I’ve been bitter.”
“That’s dumb.”
“I know.” They reached the huge door and he pounded on it.
They waited only a moment before it swung open. A tall woman stood at the threshold, her auburn hair gleaming in the golden light from the large foyer. An apprentice.
“We’re here for Corrier,” Malcolm said.
“May I ask who you are?” Her Irish accent was lilting.
“Step aside, Moira. I know who they are.”
Moira stepped aside to reveal a familiar figure coming down the stairs. Tall and slender, Corrier’s white hair stuck out at wild angles. His dark cloak fell back from his shoulders, revealing gray trousers and shirt beneath. The power that radiated off him made Malcolm’s skin tingle. Corrier was the most powerful warlock in the world.
“Sofia.” His voice was warm. “It’s been centuries.”
“It has.” Warmth was buried beneath the hint of wariness in Sofia’s voice.
Corrier looked at Malcolm. “The same goes for you.”
His voice had chilled slightly, but Malcolm understood. Unlike Sofia, he’d completed his training. It was understood when a failed apprentice didn’t return to see the mentor. There was no reason to. But warlocks didn’t often stay away from their mentors for as long as Malcolm had. And three hundred years was a long time.
“I’m sorry, Corrier. But it’s good to see you.” He meant it. With Sofia now at his side, some of his bitterness had waned.
“Come, let’s have a drink. When someone who’s been away as long as you shows up, they normally want something. I’d like a drink for that.”
They followed him down the hall to his study. It was so familiar. He could recall stolen moments with Sofia in this very hall. He clenched a fist, pushing the memories away. They only served to confuse him. Make him regret his actions. Regret was weakness. He just had to go forward with the tools he had. He’d find a way to be with Sofia.
“Take a seat,” Corrier said once they entered his cluttered study.
The room was large, but the number of bookshelves and tables made it feel much smaller. Leather-bound tomes and magical instruments littered the surfaces. The fire blazed in the hearth, sending a warm glow into the room.
“Tea?” Corrier asked.
They both nodded.
Corrier went to a table laid out with implements for making tea and waved his hand, producing three steaming mugs. He turned to them and held up a bottle of whisky.
“Absolutely,” Sofia said.
“Thanks,” Malcolm said.
Corrier poured, then brought them their drinks. Three mugs for them, a saucer for the cat. They sat in chairs in front of the fire. Kitty took up a position in front of the hearth. Malcolm’s mind could so easily travel back in time to when they’d all sat here the first time. Even after Corrier had come into the room, he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of Sofia. When he’d seen her commitment and intelligence, he’d been lost.
“What is it that you need? After three hundred years, people don’t visit just to say hello.” His tone was kind.
“I’m sorry, Corrier. I never thought to visit,” Sofia said. “Though I valued what you taught me, the cost was too high.”
“I understand.” His gaze moved to Malcolm. “Can you say the same?”
Malcolm sighed. “Honestly, I can. The loss of Sofia proved to be too great.”
He felt her gaze on him, but didn’t look at her. Admitting these things… wasn’t easy. But he had to learn to do so if he wanted to win her.
“That is the nature of the warlock. Sacrifice in all things. Such great power comes at a price.”
“I now realize how great,” Malcolm said.
“Then how can I be of service?” Corrier asked.
“We are potentially—likely—in some trouble,” Malcolm said. He explained the problem with the witches. “So you can see, we need help.”
Corrier sat back and steepled his fingers under his chin. “Hmm. That is not good. It’s not possible to defeat the High Witches. Not when they fight as a group. Will they?”
“Yes,” Malcolm said.
“And your best hope is retrieving the Salem Coven’s Grimoire, but you’ll have to enter their house to do so. If you fail, you will have to disband your village.”
“Yes,” Sofia said, her eyes dark with pain.
Corrier leaned forward. “Though I do not become involved in the affairs of my apprentices, I can make Sofia stronger. She is the weaker link—” his gaze met hers “—no offense intended my dear, but you didn’t finish the training.”
“I know. But become a warlock?” There was dread in her voice.
“No. That opportunity has past. But you have the training. You know how to handle immense power. What I can do is link you to Malcolm. When you are in trouble, he can transfer power to you through the aether.”
“Won’t that weaken him?”
Corrier met his gaze. “Yes, though only if he gave you more than he could afford to lose. But if you were both fighting for your lives and your magical energy ran low, it’d be safer if he could transfer power to you and you could both continue to fight.”
“And he wouldn’t have to jump in and save me.” From the sound of her voice, Sofia liked that idea.
Malcolm sat back. Break up his power and share it with Sofia? He’d sacrificed everything for his power. Once, sharing it would have been out of the question. But it sounded like he’d have control of it. And Sofia needed it. “Yes. We’ll do that.”
“Hey! I haven’t agreed,” Sofia said.
“What’s to agree to?” Malcolm asked. “You’ll be twice as powerful. At least. With no downside, it sounds like.”
Her brow creased and her gaze was thoughtful. “There’s really no downside for me?”
“No. For Malcolm, yes. But not for you. You’ll have to get a small tattoo, and when you’re near Malcolm, you’ll feel him, but those are minor,” Corrier said.
“Feel him?”
Corrier nodded. “If you’re within a couple hundred yards of each other, you’ll be aware that he is there. But that’s all. And it will be useful when you’re fighting a battle together.”
She nodded. “Okay, I’ll do it. And thank you both.”
Something loosened in Malcolm’s chest. He’d been worried she wouldn’t take the offer. But it would make her stronger. Safer. Now that she would be both, he relaxed a bit. It wasn’t foolproof, but it was better than nothing. It’d give him more control, too. He hadn’t known how Corrier would be able to help them, but he’d been certain they’d be better off if he agreed to assist them somehow.
“All right, then,” Corrier said as he rose. “The first step is to link the two of you, the tattoos will be imbued with magic that will connect you and allow you to transfer magical energy to Sofia.”
“I’ll go first,” Sofia said.
“You hold your wand with your right hand?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’ll get the tattoo on that arm.” Corrier retrieved a feather quill from a shelf, then returned to stand in front of the fire.
Sofia rolled up her shirt sleeve. Corrier held out a hand and opened a small portal to the aether. It glowed bright white, an orb about a foot in diameter that floated about four feet off the ground. Corrier extended the feather quill until it touched the light and waited until it glowed.
Once it gleamed with magical energy, he withdrew it and turned to Sofia. She held her arm out, forearm facing up.
“Picture Malcolm in your head.”
Sofia nodded and closed her eyes. She winced when Corrier pressed the quill to her skin, but held still as he drew.
When it was over, she sighed in relief and glanced at it. Surprise flashed in her gaze when she saw the tall, cloaked man on her inner arm.
Corrier turned to Malcolm. “The same f
or you now.”
“My shoulder,” Malcolm said as he stripped off his sweater.
“All right then. Picture Sofia.”
Malcolm closed his eyes and did as Corrier requested. An image didn’t form in his mind, though a feeling of her did. Is this what Sofia had felt? He was about to tell Corrier when the man said, “Good, good. That’ll do.”
Pain sliced through Malcolm’s shoulder, a line of raging fire that made him clench his teeth. He held tight to the sense of Sofia. It felt as if her essence were within him, directing Corrier’s quill.
Finally, the pain faded. Malcolm opened his eyes to see Corrier stepping back.
“All done.” Corrier returned the quill to the shelf. “If Sofia is ever in a situation where she needs more magical power—say to fight a particularly evil witch—envision sending her some of your power. Focus on the tattoo and the link you feel. It should work.”
Malcolm nodded, then glanced down at his shoulder. Surprise flashed through him, then a grin tugged at his lips.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sofia stared at Malcolm’s shoulder, bewildered. His tattoo was… glorious. A winged woman, powerful and beautiful, decorated his skin.
That wasn’t her.
Malcolm tugged on his shirt and her trance broke.
“Thank you, Corrier,” Malcolm said.
“Of course. You were two of my favorite students.” His gaze met Sofia’s. “And I understand why you left the apprenticeship. It’s not for everyone. The cost can be too high.”
She nodded gratefully, her eyes pricking. She really had hated to leave her studies.
They said their goodbyes and Malcolm aetherwalked them back to his library.
She stepped back, then met his gaze. Unable to stop herself, she said, “That tattoo wasn’t me.”
“It represents how I see you.”
Oh. She blinked. Her heart started to pound.
Holy hell, she was in trouble. It was now clear: the good parts of him that she’d once fallen for were still there—they were just covered up by the jerky shell that loneliness had created. And even that shell was cracking.
He’d agreed to share his power with her. She hadn’t thought it possible for him to make such a sacrifice.
