by D. R. Perry
"From the bottom of my heart, sir, I apologize."
"For?" The merman blinked.
"Not being good enough to bond with the hatchling. I think I could have saved her if I'd managed. So it's my fault. Let Cadence go and punish me instead."
"Young magus, please rise."
Logan did while wiping his nose on his sleeve.
"The lore you land-dwellers have on us is scarce by design, but you must know this. Kraken can only bond with merfolk. Your gifts are undeniably strong, but no magus could have managed that. Cadence DelMar is not responsible. So, we release her from punishment."
The kraken's tentacle unfurled and set Cadence on the deck.
Mermaids sometimes lost their lower garments when shifting unexpectedly. Cadence's legs remained a tail for a moment, which gave me time to remove my jacket and wrap it around her waist. Izzy did the same so she was completely covered. She leaned between us, sobbing.
"A price must be paid." Everything went silent. I looked up. "A child for a child is my thinking. That is the way of the sea."
Leo nodded, one corner of his mouth upturned.
"What?" Logan stared up at his father, eyes wide open. "Dad. No."
"You brought this on yourself," he scoffed. "I warned you."
The tentacle reached for Logan. Doris yowled and bounded in front of Leo where she hissed and spit, tail lashing. Brand the phoenix dove at the mercat, talons out and wings blazing.
"I wish for Leo to pay this price. And suffer for it."
Andre Gauthier stood in the middle of all the chaos with a brass lamp glowing in his hands. A figure shimmered into existence beside him. I recognized her from Logan's description. The woman from the library.
"I'm sorry." The handsome woman waved her hand as a tear trickled down her face.
"It seems my companion wants a different sort of justice from your family," the merman said.
The kraken's appendage hung in midair, then descended again, this time in front of Leo, where Brand did battle with Doris.
I heard a hiss, a scuffle, and a caw. Leo blocked my view of the kraken's tentacle. Logan cried out as the air around him trembled with pain. A fine mist fell on his face, tears in the rain. The tentacle lifted something off the deck—two bundles, gray and still. Finally, the massive creature and her merman sank beneath the water, slowly enough that the boat barely rocked.
Logan fell to the deck and curled up on his side. Despair came off him in waves. My breath caught in my throat. Elanor approached her father with her hands ablaze.
"What did you do?"
"What any reasonable person would have." He banished her conjure. "They were only animals."
I pulled Logan's head into my lap, where he wept in silence. I'd seen this before a year ago, with Dorian.
Doris was gone. Brand, too. Sacrificed in place of Logan himself. Leo Pierce hadn't flinched through any of it, although Andre's wish stipulated his pain.
He'll hurt. Eventually.
All our research told us that wishes always came home to roost. The voice's truth offered cold comfort.
Somewhere behind me, I heard that low intense voice again, chuckling.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
We all sat in the infirmary the next morning with Logan asleep in one bed and Hal getting his infusion in another. Hal's chair stood in a corner, a satchel filled with the books and papers from the other day slung across the back.
"I don't get it." Dylan scratched his head. "Why the conference?"
"Everybody knows now that Gauthier had Grandma's lamp," Hal said. "That must have been his last wish."
"So where is it now?" Faith asked.
"Well, one thing's certain," Xan gazed at his bandaged hand. "The wrong people don't have it."
"How do you figure?" Grace asked.
"I know them too well." He tapped his temple. "Things wouldn't be this peaceful if they had their way. They'll find it eventually. Then, we're screwed."
"I know what we all need." Hal smiled. "Coffee and pastry."
"What?" I blinked.
"Normally, I never say no to food." Dylan shook his head. "This is a crisis. Leaving now is madness."
"Risky maybe, but not madness," Hal said. "Trust me on this. We need Witches Brew breakfast. For morale. Nurse Smith and Ian are both here. Logan will be okay."
"I don't want to leave him." I patted Logan's hand. "But Xan's right. So is Hal. We need some breakfast, fresh air, and space to breathe."
When Ian came in to disconnect Hal's infusion, I took Logan's hand and kissed his forehead.
"I'll be back in a bit, dear."
He didn't make a sound or open his eyes, but his hand squeezed mine before we let go. The trauma of losing a familiar affected each magus differently. Logan's talent probably made it harder for him.
Hal kept moving his chair right past Witches Brew and crossed Front Street without stopping, then crossed Derby, which resulted in a lot of head-scratching. Dylan looked longingly over his shoulder at Engine House, which hadn't opened yet.
The entire way, Hal held his phone in his lap, sending texts. He stopped on Washington Street until he read a response, then crossed into The Point.
"They're not going to let me into N—"
"Don't worry, Xan." Hal tucked his phone back in his pocket. "He already said it's okay."
My brother let us into his apartment, finger to his lips. Nobody spoke until we were inside the warded practice room.
"Now that we're in here, they won't know what we say, not even if they've bugged us."
"Are you honestly worried about that?" Grace raised an eyebrow. "Never mind. It's wishes."
"My father would kill to get his hands on that lamp." Faith clenched her fists. "It vanished, so that means it has no master until the next person picks it up."
"Next person who isn't Andre Gauthier or Richard Hopewell, yeah." Hal nodded. "Dad used to joke that the decorations on lamps are actually ancient djinn for no repeat business."
"So, how do we keep it away from him?"
"That lamp’s directly connected to my family," Hal said. "It's barely functional, but I'm still a space magus and I'm related by blood."
"Isn’t it the same for the headmaster?" Xan asked.
"Nope. He married up." Hal grinned. "Only related to the Haddads by marriage."
"What about your dad?"
"Technically, yes. But he's off-campus today, dealing with the boat charter company. It's pretty safe to assume we lost our deposit."
"You planned this." I nodded. "Since last night when you saw the lamp vanish."
"Exactly." He nodded.
"Don’t you need big amplification devices to track something like a lamp though?" Noah asked.
"No, nothing like that." Hal grinned. "Turns out, I’ve got space affinity. I’m low on power because of my anemia, even right after this morning’s infusion. But I learned a trick thanks to Logan, from that green dragon journal he's translated. Just need the wards in here and a little help from you all in the magic department."
Hal pulled an atlas out from under the blanket in his lap and turned to the table of contents. Then, he took a pendulum from his pocket and looped the end of the chain around his middle and ring fingers. He held it above the printed page and stared at it while conjuring.
Sweat beaded on his forehead. Nin sat on his shoulder and pressed her cheek against his. Faith took his free hand, then reached for Grace's with her empty one. I got the idea and laid one of my hands on his shoulder and grabbed Noah's with the other. We formed a circle, gently conjuring and passing the energy of our elements around.
It reminded me of the calming exercise Elanor taught me for Bishop's Row, but somehow, our elements channeled together despite some of them opposing each other.
Faith squeezed Hal's hand. "Go on, ask."
"What page?"
The pendulum swung, defying the laws of physics.
"Ninety." Hal let the bob rest in his lap and flipped through the atlas. "
Now, where in Salem?"
The pendulum swung back and forth over Essex Street, eventually coming to rest on the spot by CVS, where the door was today. Faith was prepared. She pulled out a sketch on notebook paper, a map of campus. Hal drew a deep breath and began again.
The pendulum swung past the infirmary and the trustees’ quarters, swinging back and forth between the academic wing and student housing. It slowed over the dorms, which Faith hadn't replicated to show every floor. Hal dropped his hand and leaned back in the chair, panting like he'd run wind sprints.
"Do any of the trustees have access there?" Faith asked. "I thought it was off-limits."
"It's lax enough for my mom to knock on my door whenever she's in the bottle," Xan said.
"There are restrictions, though." I chewed my lower lip while thinking. "What was it the headmaster said at the welcome speech? Something about detection wards."
Someone knocked on the door.
"What the hell?" Noah opened it to reveal Elanor.
"Brianna called. It's an emergency. We have to go back to Hawthorn. Now."
"Elanor, we're doing serious sh—"
"Shut up, Noah!" She clutched her phone to her chest. "It's Logan. My dad put him in a car outside the Essex Street Garage. He was unconscious."
"Where?" I shouldered past my brother.
"Nobody knows." She trembled. "And he was bleeding."
Most of us hurried back to campus, where I acted as Elanor's escort. Dylan asked Brianna to stay on Essex Street, so we'd have someone watching the door to message Faith and Hal, who'd stayed behind with Noah at the apartment. He was too bushed to make the trip back without rest, even in the chair. Noah had no choice but to hide from the sun.
We needed information so we split up, intending to ask everyone around what they'd seen or heard. Dylan went to the infirmary, Xan to the café, Dorian the cafeteria, and Grace the dorms. I escorted Elanor to the office, where she pounded on the headmaster's door. He opened it and stared at us with a face like stone.
"Where's my brother?"
"I suggest you ask a relative, Miss Pierce." He shook his head. "I'm unable to discuss medical matters about any Hawthorn students. Privacy, you know."
"We're estranged."
"All the more reason I can't tell you. You're a grown woman, Miss Pierce. Act like it, and handle your family business."
"Sir," I stepped in. "Logan's estranged from them. He's an adult too. So, please. We only want to know where he is, to make sure he's safe."
"He's in the care of medical professionals."
"That's not good enough." The air around Elanor heated up. "I happen to know he left in a car, not an ambulance."
"I'm sorry I can't do more, Miss Pierce. Please. Find a relative. It's the only way." He closed the door.
She stalked out of the hall and through the lobby, making a beeline for the exit. I jogged to get in front of her, then turned around and walked backward.
"Stop, Elanor. Think."
"About what?"
"Why was he so insistent about a relative?" I pushed the vestibule door open with my hands behind my back. "I mean, he could have said your father if that's who he meant."
"Mom's in Vegas. The only other relative I have around here is locked up." She kept walking toward the exterior door.
"Wait." I stopped so abruptly she almost ran into me. "Do you mean your aunt? Petra?"
"How did you know about her?" She blinked. "Even Logan doesn't—"
I pushed the door open and stood with her in front of CVS, explaining about the yearbook. Including how Gamila gave it to Logan in the library.
"Don't say another word, ladies." Andre Gauthier emerged from the school door. "Not with Lavinia about to walk out for brunch. Follow me, and we can help each other."
He led us down the street to the parking garage and into the long-term section. We turned a corner to a row where only one vehicle stood. He drove an old-fashioned hearse of course, from the 1970s and in mint condition. As we approached, two people stepped out from behind the car. Bubbe and Izzy.
"Mildred Morgenstern?" Mr. Gauthier blinked.
"You don't bring Aliyah anywhere without me, Andre."
"It's not your business."
"My grandkid, my business." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I've got a Mendez soothsayer contradicting you."
"Hi." Izzy let out a nervous giggle. "My abuela says you ignored her warnings back in the day and that I shouldn't help you. When I said it's for Bubbe, she gave her blessing. Anyway, everything goes up in smoke if you go in a trio. You need four or more."
"Success means two more passengers later." Mr. Gauthier frowned. "It's not legal to drive with anyone in the back who isn't dead. I won't have room if I bring you all."
"Then Bubbe stays in Salem." Izzy's hands trembled.
"No, you do." Bubbe raised an eyebrow. "We discussed this already, Isabella."
"But the cards said—"
"You stay. I go."
"If you're sure."
"I am."
"Fine." Izzy swallowed. "See you, then. When I see you."
This does not bode well.
There wasn't any time to press Izzy for more information or my grandmother for that matter. Bubbe got in the passenger side. I got in the back with Elanor. The car had bench seats, so there'd be space for two more if we all squeezed. I wondered at first why one seat wasn't enough. Until Mr. Gauthier pointed the car toward Danvers and Elanor's response brought the headmaster's words into precise focus for both of us.
"The Sanitarium?" She gasped. "Aunt Petra!"
"Yes. Where the Pierces have always put their rebels. Now hold on." Mr. Gauthier stepped on the gas. "This is a race."
"I don't get it." But I did. He was as cautious as Hal and didn't want his enemies to know where he was going. I should have been more careful. There was nothing I could do now besides keep quiet about the lamp.
And hope any damage my loose lips had done stayed at a minimum.
The Sanitarium in Danvers was a sprawling brick building set in the middle of a bucolic green lawn. The granite steps glittered in the late morning sun, dazzling my eyes as we went up them and through sliding glass doors. The floor and walls were wide planks, bleached like driftwood. The only decor in the immediate area were long stalks of something like bamboo in alabaster planters, which both Andre and Bubbe side-eyed immediately.
I'm not sure what I’d expected the inside to look like, but the reality was nothing like what they show in the movies. No glass laced with metal, no bars, no mundane barriers of any kind that the eye could see, besides a half-wall that reminded me of the Dutch doors in Bubbe's office.
There were no apparent gates, catches, or latches in that low wall, which was painted to resemble fieldstone. I saw no desk or any attendants. People of all shapes, sizes, and ages moved on the other side, dressed in soft pastel pants and tops, reminding me of Monet's Garden.
They went about the business of living gently, oblivious to our presence by the entrance. When I approached the wall and tried leaning over it to catch the nearest person's attention, a ward stopped me. The patient in question, a lanky bald man older than Bubbe, moved along as though I were invisible.
I peered at them and noticed something else that didn't track with my clearly incorrect assumptions about inpatient mental health care. Nobody looked unkempt or otherwise in distress. Some sat, others paced, and a few engaged in repetitive behaviors with hands or feet. Most seemed alert and engaged in some activity or other. Reading, or artwork, or board games, or cards. One snored faintly in a reclining chair with a cozy blanket draped over her legs. Another dozed over a magazine at a small table. As I watched, the wood beneath him shifted to match the angle of the other sleeper's seat. A blanket appeared as if by magic and tucked itself under his arms as the magazine settled in his lap, page unturned.
If the people made me think of Monet, the murals put me in mind of Van Gogh. The artwork stretched from top to bottom, with magical
creatures as the most frequent subjects. There was one that featured a rainbow-hued flight of dragonets, the largest one eerily similar to Ember.
I tried picking out the dominant magical energy in the room, but so many types mingled that it was next to impossible.
"Yeah, she's here all right." Mr. Gauthier chuckled at the artwork. "I should have known. Wouldn't have needed Gamila at all if it weren't for Dishonest Abe and his blasted mind magic. Which, of course, is part and parcel of how she wound up in this place."
"I thought we were here for my kin." Elanor glared.
"Oh, we are." He nodded.
"So, exactly how are you helping?" I raised an eyebrow.
"As a chauffeur, of course." He grinned like the Cheshire Cat. "Besides, young Mr. Pierce is in here. And he owes me a favor."
"What's this really about, Andre?" Bubbe had her arms crossed over her chest.
"Why, Petra of course, Mildred."
"I should have known." Bubbe seemed to deflate. "Well, go on then. Rescue her if you've finally got the means."
"You know as well as I do that's not how the Sanitarium works. First, we've got to get in."
"That takes blood." Bubbe nodded.
I rummaged in my bag for something sharp.
"No, Aliyah." Elanor put her hand on my arm. "Watch this."
She walked over to the wall and placed her hand on the top, where one of the painted stones appeared to have a sharp edge. She wrinkled her nose, and when she took her hand away, I saw a tiny drop of blood.
"Pierce?" A voice called, but nobody appeared. "One of you passed this way a short time ago."
"I'm here for my brother Logan," Elanor said. "My Aunt Petra, too."
"I'm afraid Mr. Logan's still in eval for the next while. You're welcome to visit with Miss Petra while you wait."
"Thanks." She beckoned. "Come on."
"I'm sorry, but only family is permitted entry." The voice carried a hint of sadness.
"I was Logan's legal guardian for a year." Bubbe said. "That must count for something."
