A Wild Conversion

by Katherine Gilbert

  Watching, Emma saw the cat push the cup it had brought in toward Frederick with its paw, staring at him imperiously. Even Emma had zero idea how the cats had managed to make the beverage, much less get it up the stairs, but this wasn’t important now.

  Taking its hint, Frederick nodded and moved Benjamin’s hands to a position to hold onto the cup. When her grandfather didn’t respond, one of Frederick’s hands raised the cup to Benjamin’s lips, encouraging him to sip, as his right thumb traced a small, intricate pathway over his brow.

  “I break this spell, Hester.”

  Frederick’s words were soft, the tone strong. His thumb continued to trace—was that an infinity symbol?—on his patient’s forehead.

  “I hereby break all bonds you’ve ever claimed on this man.”

  Emma heard Natalie gasp, couldn’t blame her. She wasn’t certain how much of the magic her friend could actually see, but even the most basic knowledge of the art would show just how complex his current unbinding was.

  This wild seer was actually performing three different types of magic—a protection, a vow, and an awakening. The latter, especially, was an unbelievably complex spell, one only the most skilled sorcerers even tried—and here Frederick was doing it out of simple instinct.

  Her heart beat faster. If she hadn’t been all too aware of just how little he consciously knew of their world, she would have thought him to be the most well-educated practitioner she had ever met.

  There was a little shiver inside her—half fear, half soul-deep arousal, his magic spellbinding to watch. The fact that all of it arose entirely from his deep and abiding spirit just made him all the more fascinating, and the simple fact that everything he did was taken on with the intention of aiding those around him spoke to a part of her too inherent to ever overcome. Even if she hadn’t understood the deeper bond they already shared, she would have found him captivating.

  She had let go of Natalie’s hand, heard the woman whispering softly in her mind, so as not to distract his extremely complicated spell. He’s pretty damn dishy, I’ll grant you that.

  Emma glanced over with a raised eyebrow, despite the moment’s seriousness, but Natalie just shrugged.

  He may be all yours, but I’m not blind.

  Emma patted her hand and smiled before looking back to the spell Frederick was weaving—or unweaving, really. It was amazing, dangerous, meticulous work, but he made it seem so natural that she felt quite giddy.

  With every stroke of his thumb, as well, Benjamin’s eyes lightened, coming slowly back to life from the frozen half-world he had been in only a moment before. One deep breath later, and he actually focused again.

  “What . . .?” Looking around at them, his expression seemed to cave in, reality obviously flooding back much too thoroughly. “Oh . . . Lily . . .”

  As he started weeping, the cats jumped on his lap to comfort him. Either the sound of his distress or some unspoken bond brought another three running into the room, too. One took a flying leap, six feet over the coffee table, to land in his lap, joining the other two in a chorus of mews, purrs, and murps, as they reclaimed him by rubbing their cheeks against his face. Another started twirling intricate patterns around his ankles, weaving some spell all its own, and a third head-butted his calf repeatedly.

  Understanding, Emma knew how concerned they were. She wanted to go to him, but they were what he really needed. They were the ones whose bond to him went so deep.

  Besides, she was quickly torn from her concern for one man by the near-collapse of the other. Frederick had already been on his knees to tend to her grandfather but now held himself up on one arm.

  Moving to him instantly, she caught him, drawing him to her. How he managed to perform any of the magic he did with no training was a miracle. A sudden fear gripped her, as she put her arms around him, holding on tightly. What would she ever do, if he couldn’t survive his conversion?

  It was this terror she had been trying not to admit, her hands rubbing over his back, begging him to stay with her. Every fact she had ever been raised with was against him. Every wild conversion story she had ever heard ended with the subject’s death. If they were lucky, it came quickly. If not, there were years of incurable madness which preceded it.

  Nearly crying, she held him tightly, begging to him. Frederick, please don’t leave me.

  Her lips trailed down from his ear to his neck, and she felt him shudder. She wanted to claim him as her partner to try to bring him back but did not ever want fear to be part of that.

  Please don’t go.

  Terrified for him, even as his arms surrounded her, she felt him actively shaking.

  “Emma,” he whispered, his voice raspy.

  When he pulled back to gaze at her, she gasped—the torrent of his emotions visible in a light show which ran through both irises and pupils. When his hand touched her cheek, she shivered, as well. He only continued the thought in her mind.

  If we both survive this . . .

  He didn’t finish the promise in words, but the images which flashed through her mind brought on another, small gasp. They were searing and explicit and . . . well, tempting would have been the least she could say of them. If there hadn’t been a million serious issues yet to face, she would have dragged him off to her bedroom to start trying them all out this instant.

  Emma? he asked her, clearly worried that he had offended her.

  But she would not have that.

  Putting her hand on his cheek, she kissed him with a thoroughness and passion which seemed to surprise him, although he quickly caught up, holding her to him tightly. She heard a bit of a giggle in the back of her mind and knew Natalie was amused by their antics, but that was only a brief insight, her focus entirely on her undeclared partner.

  When she pulled back, he barely let her go, both of them shivering, and she knew her eyes were flashing every bit as wildly as his.

  Frederick, I assure you, of the dozen different things I’m going to do with you when all this is over, I’m definitely not going to let you out of my bed for at least a month.

  His eyes flashing, his thumb traced near her mouth, and she just wanted to climb him.

  I am NOT letting you go.

  This was not yet the claim she wanted to give him—or that he wished to hear—but it would have to do, for now. There was too much yet to be settled, too much of her life and her world which suddenly made no sense. Once she had finally found some sanity, they could work out all the details of their bond. And then they could show each other all the ways this partnership truly worked.

  She continued to be lost to him for several long moments, until she heard a small voice. Um, Em?

  Blinking—seeing Frederick doing the same—she emerged somewhat from their dreams of the future, although her hands were still stroking tenderly along his back.

  Your grandfather?

  Turning at the same time as Frederick, she saw the man who had long raised and loved her weeping and shared Frederick’s feeling of guilt. Still, she pushed him softly back toward the sofa. He had done enough to help by breaking Benjamin out of at least some part of the spell Hester had apparently long held him in. She wasn’t going to risk any further damage to him now.

  Staring at her grandfather, one hand reached out without her realizing it toward Natalie.

  Instantly, her old friend came to her side, holding her hand, as she knelt beside the distressed man. Her free hand stroked tenderly over his brow, as he had done to calm her so often when she was a child.

  Truly, she was sorry about her distraction from him, although she couldn’t help her fears for Frederick, as well. He had already worked more complicated, and completely untrained, magic in a day than most fully-converted sorcerers might in a very full month.

  Still, she returned to the problem at hand, wiping away her grandfather’s tears. “Do you know what happened now?”

  Natalie squeezed her hand, understanding her fears.

  “Do you know what’s happened in
the missing years?”

  This was a question which she was more than a little nervous to have answered, but there was no avoiding it any longer.

  Clearly, he did remember, although it was obvious that the truth would not be easy.

  He broke out of his sobbing only long enough to stroke a finger down her cheek. “Oh, Emma. Little one.”

  The cats which covered him were still either meowling pitifully or purring so loudly it was hard to hear, all of them desperate to give their companion whatever comfort they could.

  “How did I ever let it come to this?”

  The answer was far too clear, but she didn’t think being reminded of his weakness in comparison to Hester was likely to make him any happier. Besides, she was distracted by Natalie’s Em.

  When she looked back, she saw Frederick rubbing over his forehead, swaying slightly on the sofa. While she didn’t want to leave Benjamin’s side, she knew it wasn’t actually her physical or magical comfort he needed now. He had the cats for that. She had other duties, then.

  Moving back to Frederick, she took a seat beside him on the couch. He was trying his best to conceal his distress from her, but it was all too obvious that his heroic efforts in breaking some part of Hester’s spell had seriously drained him, at least, and she began to fear once more that she might lose him.

  Of course, Natalie had come with her, was gripping her hand so tightly it hurt, but she didn’t want her to let go, her friend’s strength the only thing currently keeping her together. She put her other arm around Frederick, then, placing his head gently on her shoulder and holding him close, hand stroking over his hair, as she gazed over to her grandfather—hoping she could keep the man and herself in one piece while they heard this tale.

  “What happened?” she prompted him.

  Kissing Frederick’s head, still looking to her grandfather, who seemed a little loath to start, she waited patiently.

  Once it came, Benjamin’s voice was sometimes difficult to hear over the continued meows and purring. “I still don’t remember all of it. It’s like there’s a fog covering everything.”

  Looking to Frederick, who was trying to hide his wobbliness, Benjamin seemed warily impressed by his guest.

  “It’s just that some of it’s lifted enough to see what’s beneath.”

  Sensing more than she saw Frederick’s smile, she could feel both his relief for his patient and his pride at having helped him.

  She kissed his forehead, as Natalie rubbed her hand in both her own. She was beginning to suspect that they would have to move slowly here, although she wasn’t certain whether that were due to the trauma of what was being remembered or the thoroughness of Hester’s compulsion still trying to reassert itself.

  “What do you see?”

  Her grandfather wasn’t actively sobbing anymore, although the tears never really stopped. Leaning back in the chair, gaze on the past, he let them fall unattended. One of his feline companions batted them away, before they made it to his chin.

  “The ball.”

  He had to stop to keep the sobs back for a moment, and, when he got himself a little under control, the rage was obvious.

  “That’s where it all went wrong.”

  Emma didn’t interrupt, letting them all hear the story at his own pace.

  “I was stronger then, was on my way to becoming a full sorcerer. A few of the village families even had hopes that they could partner their daughters with me.” There was a small, slightly sad smile. “But Penelope and I had a plan.”

  They were all quiet, waiting.

  “Pen and I had been sweet on each other since we were kids. Hester had never seemed to give us much attention. Of course, she didn’t like either of us much, but she didn’t like much of anyone else, either.”

  His look changed.

  “Except maybe Randy. The two of them had been in each other’s back pockets for a while.”

  Emma suspected but wasn’t certain she should interrupt. Nat took up the job, instead. “Randy?”

  Benjamin seemed to fully notice them for the first time. “Randolph—Randolph Spear, as he is now, although that’s kind of a surprise. His father was a huge, powerful man.” His look grew confused. “I never thought he’d be gone in my lifetime.”

  Hester’s fog seemed to have descended on him again, covering what Emma knew both she and her two companions were now wondering, but she suspected this was a story for later. Better to get to the rest of what he could recall, for now.

  “The ball?”

  It took a second, but he appeared to shake his other musings away. “Anyway, Pen and I were planning on being partnered there. We had magical demonstrations ready which would coincide with each other’s nicely. No one in town would have objected. My family liked her, and Hester had never seemed to care much either way.”

  He had said this so casually, but it definitely didn’t affect his listeners the same way. Emma squeezed Natalie’s hand, had to hold Frederick’s head down to her shoulder to keep it from rising—knowing he still wasn’t really recovered.

  Not yet, she told them both. She understood they felt the roiling of her emotions at such a casual mention of a family which she had never known existed—and which, she suspected, if Hester had had plans for them, might not anymore.

  For all her life, there had only been her and Benjamin in this great big house—well, them and his cats and eventually Natalie, too. Her grandmother—whom she was thinking of in far darker terms than ever—had visited to check on her magical progress only occasionally.

  Calming her only slightly, she felt Nat squeeze her hand, but she couldn’t repress the question. What in sweet Hecate’s name has Hester done with the rest of my family?

  Still, Benjamin didn’t seem to have noticed the discrepancy, and she was afraid that interrupting him might keep them from getting what information they could. For all Frederick’s hard work in breaking Hester’s spell, that woman had at least a century of magical knowledge over him. Emma wasn’t certain how long this clearing of her grandfather’s memories would last.

  As deeply as she craved to know more, she wasn’t taking any chances, continued to listen.

  “I still can’t remember exactly what . . .” Benjamin’s hand went to his forehead, struggling, till he seemed to intentionally relax.

  Emma understood. A spell such as this one would fight back if confronted. Better to approach quietly and see what it let slip on its own.

  “Hester caught me before the ball. She told me that Penelope wasn’t coming, that she wasn’t here anymore.” His face was grim. “That was probably when she put the compulsion on me. I just remember feeling devastated but not really fighting or questioning.”

  He shook his head—his gaze so deep.

  “I would have moved heaven and earth, otherwise.”

  There were still details they didn’t know—some of them pretty catastrophic—and that said nothing of Hester’s real motives in getting rid of her twin.

  Emma prompted, although she already guessed the answer. “You were partnered with my grandmother that evening?”

  Gaze distant, he nodded. “Gloria Philbert. Never really liked her. She was always tagging along behind Hester and Randolph, always had that cunning, evil look in her eyes.” He shuddered. “Of all the people in this town, save Hester, she would have been the last one I’d have chosen.”

  They all suspected that he hadn’t, really, but mostly let that lie.

  Emma only asked one more question on the subject. “Did Philbert Spear push the match?” It would be nice to know how much involvement he might have in all this.

  Benjamin looked at her before shrugging a little. “I never even knew him then. I knew she had a brother, but I think he was off somewhere.”

  His look twisted, as he fought for the memory.

  “In another magical town? The mundane world?”

  Giving it up, he shrugged again.

  There was clearly no more point in pushing, so Emma moved him
to another, terrible question, fearing for its effects on him. “My mother . . .?”

  Once more, the tears began, silently and instantly, driving the various cats around him mad—all of them twirling, head-butting, or rubbing their cheeks against him. His face looked so distraught.

  “I can’t believe I forgot her!”

  His fists clenched against the arms of the chair.

  “I can’t believe I forgot my own daughter!”

  Frederick tried to rise from her shoulder, but she could feel how unsteady he was. Holding him still, kissing the top of his head, she let him speak from there.

  “She’s powerful.” He didn’t even seem to want to say the woman’s name. “She made me forget . . .”

  Benjamin held up a hand, still not looking at him. “At least you had the excuse of not knowing magic existed.” His fists clenched again. “And it wasn’t your own damn daughter!”

  She could feel that Frederick wanted to argue that he saw Jane in pretty much the same way but felt him let it go. It was no time for petty disagreements about who was most to blame.

  Refocusing him, she got his attention. “Grandfather.”

  It worked, as she rarely called him anything but by his name.

  “Tell us the rest of what you recall.” She could feel her magic sparking through her eyes. “And remember who’s really at fault here.”

  He didn’t seem to agree but did as she asked, nonetheless. Finally petting one of the cats, who purred loudly, his gaze was on the past. “I raised Lily. I think. No.” The look was distant. “Maybe Hester . . .”

  Trailing off, his anger was obvious.

  “Those years are still gone, I guess. Anyway, I do vaguely remember her partnering off with Randy, although I don’t much remember noticing the details.”

  All of this was bad enough, but when Benjamin looked at Emma, his horror was obvious. “And then there was you . . .”

  They all waited. Benjamin had stopped petting, the fists returning.

  “Hester brought you to me when you were still an infant. She said you . . .”

  He looked into Emma, his rage at Hester so obvious.