“I have a delivery for you,” said Suri. She held out the envelope for the gnome to see.
Her eyes went wide. She disappeared from sight, and shut the door. Suri glanced at Raja, but he only stared straight ahead. A moment later came a metal rattling sound. The chain being unhooked. The door creaked open again, this time fully.
“My name is Estrella,” she said, with a low bow. “Welcome home.” A chandelier hanging from the ceiling in the entrance hall behind her shone with dull light. It looked to be using real candles. Large oil paintings, portraits of men and women making proud poses, lined the walls. A red carpet lay on the floor, and against the wooden walls were narrow tables set with bowls and vases and other generic decorations.
“What?” said Suri. “No, I’m delivering this package.” She held out the envelope to the gnome’s chest.
“Oh, oh!” Estrella exclaimed. “They didn’t tell you. Oh, my. But he knows.” She pointed a crooked finger at Raja. “What do I do, what do I do. The next meeting isn’t until tonight,” she said, rambling more to herself than to Suri. She closed the door, locked it. “You must stay here and wait. She will be here soon. Everything will be explained. Oh, it’s so exciting! I never thought I’d live to see the day!”
“Is everything ok?” Suri asked.
Estrella laughed. “I haven’t been this happy since my last child was born.” She shifted her skirt, which reached down to her ankles. Adjusted her belt and tunic. Straightened them, brushed off any trace of dust. Touched her hair. Although the outside of the manor was in ill repair, making it seeme abandoned, the inside was clean and well-maintained.
“Are you not the owner of this house?” Suri was beginning to suspect that the old gnome lady had gone mad. “Have you been living here alone for a long time?” She asked softly.
Raja stepped forward. “We will wait,” he said to Estrella, who nodded in return.
Suri felt that a grand trick was being played on her. She waited on a couch in a tea room, seated next to a stiff Raja, who refused to meet her eye. Estrella had waved off the rest of Suri’s questions, leaving her to nibble on the cookies she had put on a little plate for her, and to hold the envelope.
Suri was frustrated, ready to call it quits when the sound came of the front door opening and closing. Several pairs of booted feet went down the entrance hall, on the floor below the tea room. Estrella jumped up from her chair and practically ran out the door, holding her skirt in both hands. Raja straightened his already straight posture.
Gosh, does everyone know what’s going on, except for me? Suri began to realize that it was all a setup. The Androsian, Raja, Traxan…somehow they were all connected. And before the burning of the human district, and all of the events that had taken Suri on this crazy adventure. The Androsian had delivered the package at least a week beforehand. So just what the heck is this all about?
The booted feet stopped. There was silence. Then they took off running. The door to the tea room opened. A woman rushed inside and swept up Suri in a huge hug. “Oh, my dear,” she said in a loving tone. She cradled Suri’s head against her chest.
Suri froze like a deer caught in headlights. “Who are you?” she asked, when the woman finally let her go.
“The question is who are you,” the woman replied. Suri could see now that she was a fae, and a regal looking one at that. She had a straight, roman nose, wide mouth with full lips, and thick, curly red hair that fell down past her shoulders. “Open the package.”
It was all so strange that Suri didn’t so much as bat an eye as she cracked the envelope’s seal. A raven flew in through the open window and landed on the back of a chair. Transformed into Vestrix, who fell onto the cushion. She crossed her legs and watched Suri with obvious glee.
“Crafty witch,” Suri muttered.
From the envelope came two objects. One was a picture of a young man and woman, and a baby between them. The man’s face was stern, eyes like embers staring into the camera. The woman wore a tired smile, looking slightly sad. The other object was a metal locket, attached to a thin gold chain, that fell into Suri’s lap.
“What is all this?” She asked.
“Open the locket,” the woman answered.
It was circular, made of a black metal that contrasted sharply with the gold chain. Thirty seconds of trying and Suri figured out that she had to twist, then pull on the locket to open it. She gasped. A small, black stone was set inside, inscribed with a magic rune that pulsed with power. She felt drawn to it, reached out a finger and touched the inscription.
An electric shock coursed through her veins. Her face flushed, head began to ache with pain. “What did you do to me!” she screamed. No one answered. Her vision went black, and she fell to lay on the couch, trembling and sweating.
Suri thought she had been cursed, or poisoned.
In fact, she was being cleansed.
Suri didn’t know how much time had passed when she sat up again. Everyone was in the same position, but for Raja, who stood by the door with his arms crossed and a frown on his lips. Estrella handed Suri a glass of water. She gulped down the whole thing.
“The baby in the picture is you,” said the woman. She took Raja’s place on the couch, right next to Suri. “I took that picture. Vestrix and I are your father’s sisters. He’s dead now, but you still have us. We finally found you.” She waved her hand and a mirror appeared in the air. Suri turned to face it, and her face went pale white.
Her ears were pointed. Like a fae’s. But her eyes were still human.
“Am I…What…” She touched her ears to confirm that it was real.
“Your mother was human,” said Vestrix.
“That-that’s not possible. You’re lying.”
“It’s true,” said her other aunt. “I know you must be confused.” She glanced at Vestrix, then back to Suri. “But you are a Blackwater. The same blood pumps through our veins. The rune would not have released the curse on you if it was otherwise. You are the only half-breed to be born in living memory.”
A horn sounded from far out in the city. The two women paused. The horn sounded again, then once more.
“Goodbye,” said Vestrix. “I do hope you like your armor.” And in an instant she was flying out the window in her raven form.
Suri’s other aunt took her by the hand and held it in a tight grip. “I wish we had been able to find you sooner,” she said, as if afraid Suri might disappear. “It would have given us more time to prepare you.”
“For what?” Suri asked.
“Your blood has made you a target. Lord Korka wants your death above all else. His mind is bent upon it. We must train you, so you can survive what’s to come.”
31
A curse? The magi council hadn’t said anything about a curse.
“What are you talking about?” Mona asked.
“Keep your voice down.” Curly scanned the rooftops with a sharp gaze. “Look, you obviously don’t understand what’s going on. Whatever they’ve been telling you is a lie.”
“Lydia,” Mona said, remembering the master shifter’s reaction.
“You saw that? She didn’t want me talking about the behelit.”
“You said you wanted to help me.” Mona crossed her arms and started walking away from the Shifters Hall. “Fine, but you have to keep up.”
Curly hesitated, then followed her onto the walkway. They walked for some ways through the campus, in silence. Once, they heard the flaps of wings and took cover under a bush. Mona didn’t get a chance to see what it was, but she had her money on a pack of ghouls.
Their putrid odor was everywhere, so strong in some places that it seemed as if a ghoul could be a couple feet around the corner, or lurking on a rooftop above. In the end, they reached the library grounds without incident. But she wasn’t yet ready to trust Augustus. She still knew him as Curly, and his motives for tagging along were unclear. He was a black magic user, and had demon blood. Even if it was only a tiny fraction of his heritage, it pu
t his loyalty into question. He was also young nobility, far in line from the throne.
What do you want? Mona wondered. To earn the respect of your family?
It seemed unlikely that was reason enough. The behelit had made Mona the target of super powers. Anyone mixed up in her life was sure to get burned.
Of course, he could be planning to kill me and make the behelit his own. Even as the thought put Mona on edge, she had to admit that it was an unlikely scenario. The behelit was guarded by the Academy’s best magi. Someone would notice the severed bond long before Curly or anyone else could get there.
“Tell me why you’re helping me,” Mona asked. “What do you get out of all of this?”
“We shouldn’t stand out in the open,” Curly replied. “Let’s get inside.”
The council is looking for you, Kelendril said telepathically. He paused, then continued when Mona didn’t reply. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but the Demon Hunters will find you soon enough.
“Shit.”
“What is it?” Curly asked.
Mona didn’t bother to reply, and took off in a sprint for the library. The gig was up; she had run out of time.
Yelps from ghouls rang through the air. They had seen her running from a nearby rooftop and taken to flight. Their large wings took huge flaps, carrying them straight for the library.
Mona ran on as fast as she could. The sound of the ghoul’s wings came louder and louder. She was a couple of steps from the front door when a gust of wind hit her from behind. She spun around and shouted the flare spell she had been preparing.
The spell blossomed with light right in front of the ghouls, blinding them and hanging suspended in the air. The ghouls shrieked and flailed, giving Mona time to grab the library door and—someone had locked it. The door didn’t budge.
The flare was fading and she was standing two steps from the ghouls.
A sharp screech came from the library and the door flew off its hinges. Curly ran past Mona and into the building, stinking of brimstone. “Come on!” he shouted.
Mona ran after him. They took off down the front lobby, past the reception and book scan stations to the elevator. She pressed the button and the door opened just as the ghouls came loping into the library. They saw the pair of them and let out more yelps of excitement, racing forward with scimitars held high.
They saw Mona, that is. Curly had disappeared.
Having no idea where he went, Mona slipped inside the elevator and hurriedly pressed the button for the top floor. It felt like they were the slowest elevator doors in history. The ghouls were right there.
“Faster. Must go faster,” she muttered.
A scimitar clanged off the elevator’s metal exterior. Mona stepped back into the corner. She started chanting, readying one of her most advanced battle spells should the ghouls get inside.
The most they got was an arm. Mona kicked it hard and rammed it out of the way. The elevator doors were able to shut and, and it started rising for the eighth floor.
Mona let her attack spell fade into nothingness and slumped back against the wall. None of this was going as she had planned. She didn’t even know if they would be able to find any books now that the ghouls were inside. Worse, the ghouls might tear the place apart looking for Mona and damage the Academy’s collection. If there was one thing that pissed Mona off, it was damaged books.
The elevator dinged open, revealing an empty waiting room. In the middle was a pair of double doors and a secretary station against the wall. The Master’s Archive was unguarded, as Mona had expected.
The doors, however, were locked. This time she was ready. She superheated her hands with a spell, held onto the handles for a few seconds, melted them, and let the hunks of metal fall to the ground.
It was pitch black in the archive. She casted one of the first spells she had learned at the Academy and summoned a ball of glowing light. It popped into the air a few feet above her head, revealing a mess of books dumped all over the floor.
Sending the ball of light in a small circle confirmed that it was like this throughout the archive. Either ransacked, or caused by attacks shaking the building. Mona was screwed either way. The archive was a huge, three floor room with thousands of books. Instead of properly organized in their shelves, priceless tomes had tumbled into piles on the floor, practically forming a carpet.
Mona slumped to the floor. It was over.
After coming all this way, risking and losing so many lives, she had failed.
Mona held back the tears in her eyes. Despair was raining down on her when light from her hovering spell illuminated a nearby bookshelf. The title “Daemonic Biology” was carved into the wood, and shimmering pale green.
It was the colour of alteration spells, and what enchantment more likely to be on a bookshelf than a seeking one?
She picked herself up, touched the grooves in the wood where the light emanated from and more green lights blinked into existence around the library. Some appeared out of the sea of dark, high above on the second and third floors.
They didn’t have this enchantment in the student library. It may have been an anti-theft measure more than a organizational too. Whatever the case, Mona didn’t plan on taking any books with her.
Behelit…fae…stream of magic…
Mona’s search took her through the main floor, then up to the second where she found a section entitled “Flora and Fauna.” It was in that narrow row of books that she realized many of them had been written in ancient languages. Others were bound by lock and key. But most were in English, Old English and Latin, which Kelendril had required her to study.
Mona thought, at the time, that the behelit’s importance was owed at least a couple of books, not understanding that an object is often just as obscure as it is rare.
A short search left her rubbing her eyes in frustration. None of the books had a word about faerie in their title. She would have to continue in a different section of the archive.
It was when she was halfway down the stairs that Curly came in through the front door. He immediately saw Mona’s light and came to join her.
“We have to get out of here,” he whispered. “The ghouls are coming.”
“I know!” Mona snapped. She was already stressed enough. She didn’t have to be reminded of the damned ghouls. “Help me find this book and we’ll get out of here.”
“There’s no time,” said Curly. A smash sounded close by. “Shit, my Dad is going to be so mad.”
“What, why?”
“I shouldn’t be showing you this.”
Curly chanted a black magic spell. Being so close to the foul words made Mona’s tongue and throat go dry. She grit her teeth, the words alone putting her on the verge of a massive headache.
What the hell is he casting?
It took a minute of this for a rift to crack open. A tear in reality.
“And this goes where?” Suri asked.
“To my estate,” said Curly, sheepishly, like he was ashamed of having something as grand as an estate. “My father taught me that spell. I know it’s not allowed. He told me to use it only in an emergency.” A ghoul running on all fours ran into the library. It let out a keening wail, signalling the others.
“I think this is an emergency,” Mona concluded.
“Good,” said Curly. He smiled, showing the tip of one of his long teeth. “You first. I have to keep it open for both of us.”
But Mona wasn’t listening. She was staring at a bookshelf on the floor above them; Part of the light from her orb was shining on it. One book in particular caught her eye. It’s title was one word, written in a blood red ink.
Behelit.
“Wait a minute,” she called. She casted her levitation spell and started rising toward the upper floor.
“Hey! Where are you going!” Curly called.
In answer, Mona twisted and threw a crystal shard. It flashed past Curly’s head and embedded in the leg of the ghoul. It fell and slid across t
he smooth floor, thumping into a shelf. Two more ghouls, then three, then four came single file into the library.
“Mona…” Curly called, his voice cracking.
She grabbed the book from the shelf and began to descend back to Curly and the rift.
The ghouls were already coming up the stairs. Curly raised both hands and summoned black flames. They engulfed the staircase, making the ghouls shriek and jump back to the main floor, where they skittered over to a different staircase.
Seeing that they would reach Curly before she would, Mona cut her levitation spell. She fell the remaining distance and hit the floor with a roll.
“Go, go!” said Curly, gesturing at the rift like a drill sergeant. He was sweating profusely, and his lips were held tight in a thin line.
Nothing to lose, thought Mona, and she leaped into the rift.
* * *
Mona stepped into a cigar lounge occupied by a group of fancily dressed gentlemen.
“And I say we squeeze the bastard until he tells us…” The man trailed off mid-sentence. Looked at Mona. Blinked.
“Name yourself!” he roared. A sword of crackling, purple light appeared in his hand. He took a long stride forward and pointed it straight at Mona’s chest.
He had been the only one standing, and facing the direction where Mona had emerged. The other gentlemen, seated, quickly turned in their seats. One of them sloshed a bit of the drink he was holding onto his pant leg. Another took the cigar from his mouth. It took them a moment to respond to Mona’s unexpected arrival. Then they were on their feet, hands shimmering with deadly magic.
“How did you break past our barrier?” the man with the purple sword snarled.
“I’m, um. I’m Mona,” said Mona. She raised her arms in the air. “Hold on, please. Don’t kill me. He’ll be right here.” I hope. Come on, Curly!
No one moved. Five, agonizing seconds later, Curly came through behind her. The rift closed, leaving the lingering scent of brimstone.
“Augustus!” cried one of the men. The others glanced at him and slowly extinguished their spells. The point of the purple sword disappeared from where it had been an inch from Mona’s chest. The man narrowed his eyes at her, but stepped back.
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