MAKING MAGICKAL ALLIANCES: A Paranormal Women’s Fiction Novel

by Leigh Raventhorne

  The sapphire glowed even brighter at her words. I breathed in deeply and nodded. I’m not sure if that was exactly what Olen had suggested, but perhaps she was right. Thanking her, I stood and headed for my room. It was time to have a discussion with a pretty piece of jewelry.

  Chapter 4

  Talking to the fae Object

  To my surprise, Zara joined me moments later in my room. I’d just sat down on the edge of my bed and was debating on how to proceed.

  You didn’t think I would leave you to do this on your own? She jumped up on the bed and settled next to me.

  Grateful for her presence, I stroked her head. “No. I didn’t want to take you away from the kittens—I mean, kits.” Her purr rumbled under my hand, calming me.

  Sebastian watches over them. Besides, I am curious to see what will happen.

  With a sigh, I pulled my sleeve up and studied the beautiful sapphire stone. “Yeah, me too.” I chewed my lip, thinking. “Any suggestions?”

  Zara’s head tilted as she considered my question. I know nothing about fae Objects, but . . . from what I do know of fae magick and what Astra and Olen have intimated, perhaps you should try addressing it directly.

  The bracelet caught the light as I angled my wrist. “So, I should just talk to it?”

  Talk to it, think at it, or send it a smoke signal. Do something soon, though. The kits will wake and need to nurse again before long.

  All right then, here went nothing. I held my wrist up higher. “Um, hello?”

  Zara made a choking noise and dropped her forehead to her paws.

  “What?” Exasperation and more than a little embarrassment laced my words. “You said talk to it. What exactly am I supposed to say?”

  She lifted her head and met my eyes. This is just a hunch, but try giving it . . . an order. Though I do not think it will actually answer you, it may give you some sort of indication of how to proceed.

  The sapphire flared brightly. I thought I felt a faint hint of indignation emanating from it, but that didn’t make any sense at all. The bracelet was just a piece of jewelry. Wasn’t it? There was another brief flare of blue light and now it felt . . . sulky?

  I held my arm out as far as I could, away from Zara. Not that I believed it would help if something were to truly go wrong, but it was instinctive. “Are you getting this, Zara?”

  Yes. Perhaps not as strongly as you are, but there is definitely something there. She cocked her head, her ears swiveling back and then forward again, as if listening. It has sentience, I believe. Or at least the start of it. She looked down at her paws, her claws flexing on the bedspread. I will reach out to Astra. When she looked up again seconds later, she looked conflicted. She says you must establish a deeper connection with it. As the king of the water fae said—without a strong enough connection, it could become mischievous, unruly, and potentially dangerous, though she does not truly believe it would hurt you as its Maker. She also asks if you need her to return to the house or send Finn.

  Establish a deeper connection? How was I supposed to do that? Shouldn’t the blood and magick I’d used during its creation have been enough for that? How could a piece of jewelry possibly be sentient? My brow furrowed. “No, I’ll do this.” Somehow. “Please thank her for me.” Then something else occurred to me and my heart practically leapt to my throat. “What will this do to our bond?” There was no way I would take any chance that could damage the bond I had with my familiar. We may not have been bonded long, but she was already a part of me I couldn’t imagine ever being without.

  She stepped closer and put a gentle paw on my arm. Only death or betraying your oath can break our bond, Roxanne. Nothing more, nothing less. She paused, then said, Try reaching out to it as you do me.

  Lowering my arm, I inhaled, breathing in deeply while trying to clear my mind. With one last nervous glance at Zara, I focused on the large, blue gem in the center of the bracelet, stretching my mind toward it. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt a responding mental touch. It felt . . . curious. And there was still a distinct sulkiness there, almost like a petulant child. Could it understand what Zara and I had been discussing? As if in answer, the gem gave a soft, pulsing glow.

  Can you tell me what you did to Rand?

  I felt puzzlement coming from the stone.

  Zara sat and tapped her paw against my arm. Try showing it what you mean.

  Show it? I searched my memories of Rand. Flashes of him smiling down at me, laughing with me, holding me after we’d made love, all came to the forefront first. Embarrassed, I pulled up the memory of Rand when he’d reached out toward the gem on the dining room table, picturing the fear and pain I’d seen on his face when his arm solidified, as well as the fear that I’d felt for him. The sapphire dimmed in response. I couldn’t quite interpret what I felt coming from the stone. Forging on, I remembered Rand touching my arm, the one with the bracelet, during the battle out on the highway just three weeks ago; how he had screamed in agony. The panic, fear, and anguish I’d felt all came rushing back to me. I felt a mental quiver from the bracelet. On instinct, I kept going. I replayed everything concerning Rand in my mind, from that initial moment of terror to when he finally woke two weeks ago. The guilt, the uncertainty, and every other feeling I’d had coursed through me like I was experiencing it all again. When I finally allowed the memories to fade, my heart was hammering and I was panting slightly. I looked over at Zara, but her eyes were on the bracelet, not me.

  Now tell it what you want.

  What I wanted? What did I want? I wanted to be able to touch Rand again without hurting him—or fearing I’d hurt him. I wanted . . . the rest of what I wanted wasn’t even possible, I knew, so I shut it down. A future between us could never happen. I was older than he was, for one thing. If he’d been given some sort of second chance at life—temporarily or otherwise—there was no way he would want to spend it with me. All the glamour cream in the world wouldn’t change that, for either of us. He would probably want to take Toby and pick up his life where he’d left off, I was sure. I also knew there was no way I would hold him back from that.

  Roxanne!

  Zara’s voice jarred me back to reality. I’d started to become so lost in my thoughts, I nearly forgot what I was doing, why we were here. When I dropped my eyes to the bracelet, the sapphire was pulsing slowly, almost hypnotically. In my mind, a hazy image of Rand holding me appeared. When I reached up to touch his face, I saw the bracelet on my arm, and apprehension tightened my chest, but . . . nothing happened when my hand brushed his cheek. He smiled down at me and the image slowly faded.

  What did that mean? Was that the bracelet’s way of telling me it was safe to touch Rand?

  I would say yes. And I would definitely say that it is sentient. I’m not sure if you should discuss this with Astra or that water fae who was with the king. He seemed to have some knowledge of fae Objects.

  “Dorn,” I said absently.

  Zara stood and stretched, before jumping off the bed. I have been away from the kits long enough. I must go. The bedroom door opened before she reached it. By the way, Finn is nearly to the lower terrace. Astra sent him to check on you after all. Tail high, she left the room.

  I met my former pixie mentor out on the upper terrace after grabbing a cup of coffee and a basket holding some of the handmade pixie-sized pieces of furniture from the kitchen. He didn’t mind coming inside most of the time, but he was usually more comfortable outside. I set up the miniature chair and table, set the tiny cup of honeyed tea I’d brought out for him down, and smiled as I saw him inhale appreciatively as he sat. Gloria had happened on this blend of teas that the garden pixies couldn’t seem to get enough of and Finn was no exception.

  “How are things going at the mound?”

  He wrapped his hands around the cup, ducking his head to hide his blush. Now that the population restrictions they’d had for so long had been lifted, many of the younger generations of pixies were pairing up left and right. I hoped his r
eaction meant he had approached the pixie maiden I knew he’d had his eye on for so long.

  “Things are going well. Really well.” He peeked up at me from beneath his long lashes. Why did men always get the gorgeous lashes? This seemed to apply even to tiny fae males. “The queen has given me new accommodations in the upper levels.” I knew even as an esteemed artisan he’d had cramped quarters before the split. His cheeks reddened to a darker shade, if that was possible. “I asked Elia to move in with me. She said yes.” The pride in his voice as he said this made me smile.

  “Congratulations, Finn. I’m sure the two of you will be very happy together.” I remembered the way the two had shyly looked at one another across the small clearing during the raising of the new fairy mound. With the shortage of pixie maidens, there were a lot of bachelors in the colony. I was glad Finn had this chance that many never would.

  I saw his eyes dart to the bracelet he’d helped me Make. Ah. Time to get down to business. “I’m sure you realize the queen sent me.” This was a statement, not a question.

  Nodding, I told him what I’d done. When I finished, he looked thoughtful and pulled a scroll I hadn’t noticed from his belt. He took his time unrolling it and carefully smoothed it out on the table. It looked downright ancient.

  “I found this in the older section of the library. Not many fae Objects have been recorded.” He tilted his head, as if considering his words. “At least, not within our colony I’m told.”

  I stilled. I’d never asked Astra how many other pixie colonies still existed or if she had a way to contact any of them. Her colony had been under my family’s protection for hundreds of years and, from the way most fae had been hunted for their magick, I guessed I just assumed that hers was one of the last. Zara had once told me that none of the other unTurned witches in neighboring states and territories knew they were here. Danai was the exception and that was only recently.

  I thought about asking Finn if he knew of other colonies, then decided not to put him on the spot. Leaning forward, I wished I would have brought my reading glasses out so I wouldn’t have to squint to see the writing. It was bad enough trying to read all of the spells and histories in the books downstairs, let alone miniscule pixie words. A pair of readers appeared on the table in front of me.

  Thank you, Zara.

  You’re welcome, came the smug response.

  I put them on and tuned back in as Finn spoke. “This was all I could find on fae Objects. The queen said the Great Library had much more on them, but she’s not sure if it still exists.”

  “The Great Library?”

  He nodded. “I’ve only heard the stories, but all fae were welcome. Copies of many of our most precious histories and records were kept there. Artisans often went there to learn, too.” He sounded wistful.

  Zara, do you know anything about this library?

  Sadly, no. What does he have to say about the bracelet?

  Clearing my throat, I asked, “So what did you find?” Even with the readers, I couldn’t make any of it out. It didn’t appear to be written in English.

  “Before we start, let me tell you that before now, I thought things like this only existed in the stories told to children.” He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it mussed. “This is all in old pixie, which is really formal. I can read most of it, enough to get the gist, anyway. Here,” he pointed at a sentence, “it talks about a particular fae Object that was used to save its fae Maker and his people. When the Maker later died, it was passed down through several generations and there were many feats of,” he frowned, squinting at the words, “magickal greatness, is what I think it says.” He glanced up at me. “A pixie generation can cover several hundred years. When the last generation died out, leaving no blood heir, it disappeared for a time, then resurfaced years later in the hands of a human. If I’m reading this right, it says the Object went mad and had to be destroyed.”

  “How could something inanimate go mad?” I mused.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. There’s not much more in the scroll.” He rolled it up again, tucking it back into his belt. “There isn’t anything here about how it was destroyed, either.”

  Again, I got a distinct feeling of indignation and distress coming from the bracelet. Without thinking about what I was doing, I reached over and patted the stone lightly. The distress turned to a low hum of satisfaction, and I froze. I pulled my hand away slowly and rested it on the table.

  Finn, not missing anything, raised his brows.

  “I don’t know why I just did that. It was upset when you mentioned the Object being destroyed, I think, and I—” I stuttered to a stop as I thought about it. How could I explain what had just happened?

  “You're sure you can read what it feels?” The way he was eyeing the bracelet suspiciously made me want to cover it protectively with my other hand.

  “I think so?” I’m not sure if ‘read’ was the correct term, but I had definitely been getting distinct impressions from it.

  “That is a good thing, most likely.” He paced across the table, his chin in his hand. “Every children’s tale centered around a fae Object I’ve ever heard mentions its personality. Most are portrayed as the voice of reason for its Maker or holder. Some are mischievous but not necessarily destructive, unless it was Made to be. There is one story that centers around an Object that sounds similar to the one in this scroll, but I think it centered more on the human that managed to steal the Object and the evil things the human tried to use it for. There was no mention of that Object going mad or having to be destroyed, but it was only a children’s story.”

  “Well, how did it end, then?” I took a sip of my coffee, pointedly not looking at the bracelet.

  He stopped pacing and looked out across the yard, thinking. “The evil human was killed, if I remember correctly, either by a brave pixie warrior or a woodland troll.”

  I choked on the coffee as it went down the wrong tube and coughed for several seconds, unable to catch my breath. My wrist grew warm, and suddenly I could breathe again. Taking a cautious breath, my hand went to my chest.

  Finn, his eyes wide, pointed. I looked down at the hand resting lightly against my breastbone. The bracelet was glowing brightly, even in the afternoon sun. “Did that just do what I think it did?”

  As the glow faded, I nodded. “If you mean did it just stop my choking? I think so.”

  “Your well-being is important to it.”

  I bit back a retort that it wasn’t likely I would have choked to death on my coffee. I might have embarrassed myself and coughed for a while longer, thrown up, or wet myself at worst, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

  Thank it.

  The bracelet?

  No, your coffee cup. Of course the bracelet! And do it with sincerity.

  I looked at my wrist. “Thank you.” I tried to push gratitude into my words. In response, I felt . . . pride? It was hard to tell with the overwhelming smugness coming from Zara.

  That will do.

  “Did you just thank the bracelet?” Finn asked, one eyebrow up.

  I held up my hands. “I thanked the potential fae Object that may have just saved me from choking to death.” Now there was amusement coming from both the bracelet and my familiar. Changing the subject, I asked, “So what is a woodland troll?”

  “From what I know of them, they have long been extinct.”

  Finn and I nearly jumped out of our skins as our heads whipped around at the sound of an accented voice. Finn took to the air, his sword in one hand. We hadn’t heard anyone approach, but two people stood at the edge of the terrace. How long had they been standing there? The speaker—Dorn—I recognized from this morning. The other was a woman with long, radiant red hair. From the color and length of it, I thought it might be the angry woman from the river. Quickly composing myself, I stood and walked over to greet them. They glanced at each other, then watched me approach. I heard Finn behind me, but I didn’t take my eyes off the visitors.

  Z
ara? Did you hear them approach?

  There was a pause, then, No. They must be shielding themselves. Sebastian comes.

  Chapter 5

  The fae queen asks for help

  “Please forgive our intrusion. This is Arella, our queen.” Dorn bowed as he spoke, but I couldn’t tell if he was bowing to me or to her with the way his body was angled.

  “And this is Finn. Finn, Dorn.” I turned my attention to the woman. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Roxanne.” I held out my hand.

  The woman stared at my outstretched hand for a long moment before looking at Dorn. When he inclined his head, she reached out her own hand, barely touching mine before withdrawing it and pulling it behind her.

  I waited to see if she could or would speak for herself. When she said nothing, I motioned toward the table Finn and I had just come from. “Please, join us. I’ll have Gloria bring out something to drink. Would you like coffee or tea? Juice perhaps?”

  Nervously, I thought, Arella looked back up at Dorn, who towered over her petite form. He gestured for her to follow us as I turned and strode—confidently, I hoped—back to the table and sat down. Finn settled to stand on the table beside me, leaving the area across from me clear.

  “Arella will have juice. Orange, if you have it. I need nothing, thank you.” Dorn’s heavy accent sounded a bit more clipped than it had this morning, and I wondered why he was speaking for the woman at his side. He pulled her chair out when they reached the table and she sat without a word while he took up a position standing to one side of her.