The Morrigan's Curse

by Dianne K. Salerni

  Jax sighed. Maybe Riley hadn’t just forgotten to give Addie’s letter back. This friction between his liege lady and his guardian was making him more and more uncomfortable. “He’s trying to keep you safe, you know.”

  “I realize that, but our goals aren’t aligned right now. I would do anything to rescue my sister. Anything. He doesn’t get to choose for me. I’m his ally, not one of his vassals. He’s so used to ordering people around, he tends to forget that.”

  “I thought you were also his girlfriend. Right?” It was none of Jax’s business, but he could hardly help but notice . . .

  She looked at Jax sadly. “I guess so. For now. Until he ages past me and decides he’d rather be with a Transitioner.”

  Jax gaped at her. Yes, Evangeline lived on a different timeline from the rest of them, growing only one year older for every seven of theirs, but did she really think Riley would let that stop them from being together? He hadn’t said anything, but Jax was pretty sure he knew what Riley was planning to do about that problem.

  Evangeline wiped the sadness off her face and attempted a weak smile. “Anyway, it still doesn’t give him the right to tell me what to do.” She poked Jax in the chest with her index finger. “Best you learn that now, Jax!”

  He held up both hands innocently. Right. No bossing around a girlfriend. If he ever got one. “I’ll score some saffron for you,” he promised. “And I’ll help you do the scrying, too. Figuring out Addie’s location before Sheila Morgan finds the enemy hideout is still our best chance at getting your sister out of the way of a preemptive strike.”

  Evangeline froze. “What preemptive strike?”

  Jax’s mouth went dry. Oh, heck. Nobody told her. “If Sheila’s people find out where the Llyrs are hiding, she . . . uh . . . plans to attack them during the seven-day timeline. To incapacitate them, not annihilate . . .” Jax knew that distinction was pointless. He hadn’t felt any comfort when Sheila had said it to him. And watching Evangeline tremble at the news made him feel even worse.

  “Riley told me nothing about this,” Evangeline finally said.

  “Well, he voted against it, but—”

  “Voted against it,” she repeated. “How good of him.” White lipped, with her hand clenched around Addie’s letter, Evangeline turned on her heel and stalked toward the stairs, no doubt planning to confront Riley on yet another breach of trust.

  “He probably didn’t want you to worry!” Jax called after her, knowing it was a lame excuse. She didn’t answer or look back, and Jax closed his bedroom door and banged his head against it repeatedly. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I just made everything worse!

  But realistically, what was Riley supposed to do? Yeah, he should’ve told Evangeline, but he didn’t have the power to defy the Morgans and the Dulacs and everyone else who’d voted for this at the Table. Riley’s resources consisted of three vassals—four, when you counted Billy—and not much else. Even if Evangeline and Jax secretly scried for Addie against Riley’s wishes and uncovered a clue to her whereabouts, they had no way to communicate with her, no way to reach her . . .

  And suddenly, it hit him.

  There was a way to reach her.

  Jax shot off an email seconds after midnight, as soon as his computer started working again. A few hours later, he had an answer. Jax figured that when a kid was grounded for thirty years, he had a lot of time to hang out on the computer checking email. And if he was secretly experimenting with brownie tunnels, like Dorian was, he had extra time.

  Jax asked his cousin to join him in a video chat very early Thursday morning, before the other residents of the cabin were up and about. Dorian looked different from the last time Jax had seen him. He wasn’t wearing his school uniform, and his thick hair, the same dark brown as Jax’s, was sticking up at the front of his head. “Hey, Jax,” Dorian said with a grin.

  “Hey, Dorian. How’s Lesley?”

  His cousin’s smile wavered. “Not that great, really. She still has nightmares. And she’s cranky. Moody. Won’t talk to me. Slams the door in my face when I ask what’s wrong.”

  Jax felt a surge of protectiveness. “Is your dad starting up with her again?” Dorian’s sister was the only one of Jax’s long-lost relatives he’d liked at first. He’d warmed up to Dorian eventually, but Lesley was different. She’d never transitioned, wasn’t marked with her family tattoo, and had no magical talent. Uncle Finn had been trying to “cure” her—first with brownie tunnels and then with blood magic—but his experiments had been nothing but torture for her.

  Dorian shook his head. “Dad’s way too busy helping Sloane with clan business to bother Lesley. I dunno. Maybe it’s just normal for girls.”

  Jax thought about Tegan, who practically defined cranky and moody. “Yeah, maybe. So, what’d you find in Dr. Morder’s notes? Have you learned how to work the brownie tunnels?”

  “Well, I’ve learned a few things. Turns out, Dr. Morder didn’t invent the spell that allows humans access. He told us he did, but really he found it in some ancient writings. I’ve got the original source here, but I can only read the part he translated.” Dorian bent over and started moving stuff around on his desk.

  Jax leaned closer to the screen. Was that— Yes! Dorian was using hair gel. His hair was spiked on purpose. Aunt Marian must be having a cow.

  “See?” Dorian held up a book written in some incomprehensible language. Then he frowned. “What are you grinning about?”

  “Nothing,” Jax said quickly. “Have you learned anything from his notes?”

  “Morder was trying to figure out the rules of object permanence outside of time. You know how from inside the tunnels you can see furniture and buildings, but not people? Well, you also can’t see objects that move around a lot, like cars or iPads or shoes. Movable objects do become visible if they stay in one spot long enough, though. How long varies; it can be a couple days or up to a week. I’ve been experimenting with different objects in my bedroom. The problem is preventing Mom from moving them when she dusts . . .”

  “Fascinating,” said Jax, although he had no interest in object permanence. “Did you find out anything about using the tunnels to jump to a new location, the way brownies do?”

  “Sure, but some of it I already knew.” There was a hint of showing off in Dorian’s voice. “Tunnels are like runways for brownies, used for takeoff and landing. That’s a simile. Jumping for brownies is like flying for planes.”

  “I got it, Dorian.”

  “There are more tunnels in our building than there should be, thanks to your dad having a pet brownie when he lived here. It was in and out of everybody’s garbage, which explains most of the upstairs tunnels. The tunnel in the basement leading from the lab to Central Park was made by the brownies Morder experimented on. Every time he released some, they used that tunnel to escape. But Morder couldn’t figure out why that tunnel was so much longer than the others—why the brownies took so long to jump.”

  “Well, I know that.” Jax could show off, too. “It’s because their magic was messed up from being held in the seven-day timeline. It must’ve been harder for them to jump, and they needed a longer runway.”

  “Ya think?” Dorian made a note in Morder’s notebook. “Awesome.”

  “But Dorian . . .” Jax wasn’t getting the information he wanted. “How do you jump from place to place?”

  “Concentration,” Dorian said, looking up. “Focus on where you want to go, like we did when we were moving through time. Except, I guess our brains aren’t wired like brownies’ brains, because I don’t usually land where I’m aiming.”

  “Oh.” That was bad news.

  “The first time I tried it, I wanted to reach the room where my dad was holding Addie, but I landed in Riley’s cell—maybe because Addie’s was warded. The other day, I was aiming for Central Park, but I ended up outside my favorite restaurant in Chinatown.”

  “So, it’s random.”

  “Well, I was hungry.”

  “Anything else
I need to know?”

  “Yeah. The brownie holes are made when brownies jump in or out of real time. We can use them, but we can’t make our own. The time I was trying to reach Addie, the tunnel spit me out in Riley’s cell and closed up behind me. I got stuck there. So if you’re planning to try this, you’ve got to be careful or you might end up stranded wherever you land.”

  “Unless I take a brownie with me.”

  Dorian’s eyes narrowed. “What are you planning, Jax?”

  “I’ll tell you if it works.”

  “What if it doesn’t work?” Dorian pointed a finger at him in warning. “Don’t make me have to come rescue you, cuz.”

  Jax grinned. “Bye, Dorian.” He logged off and sat back in his chair, thinking.

  Brownies.

  Glorified rats, Deidre had called them. Transitioners and Kin alike viewed them as pests and nuisances but didn’t normally think of brownie holes as a security risk or an entryway for intruders.

  However, Dr. Morder’s experiments for the Dulac clan had granted certain families access to the tunnels, like the Dulacs and the Ambroses. Jax’s talent had branched off from the Ambrose family, but he was closely enough related that he shared their access to the brownie holes. And because Dr. Morder had been planning to smuggle Addie out of the Dulac building by way of those tunnels, she could use them, too.

  If Stink could help Jax track Addie down, he should be able to snatch her right out of Llyr hands.

  15

  JAX TOLD NO ONE his idea.

  First of all, Riley would hate it because he couldn’t come along—or go in Jax’s place. Riley wasn’t able to enter the brownie tunnels, but he was perfectly capable of commanding Jax not to because it was dangerous.

  As for Evangeline—Jax was torn. Obviously, she was the best person to convince her sister to climb into a magical tunnel. But as far as Jax knew, something like this had never been done before. Evangeline had used the tunnels to get in and out of the Dulac building, but she didn’t know humans could jump like brownies to a different location. Jax had never done it, and Dorian, who had, admitted he rarely landed where he meant to. Jax wasn’t sure he could get to Addie even with Stink’s help, let alone take Evangeline with him. Plus, he’d be jumping into the enemy’s stronghold. He didn’t want to accidentally hand Evangeline over to the Llyrs!

  He had to try this alone. If he ended up having to come back for Evangeline’s assistance after he’d scoped out the situation, so be it. But first he had to find Addie.

  That was when he realized how short-sighted he’d been. Stink was going to need something belonging to Addie to find her. He’d tracked down Jax with socks. Addie’s letter would probably serve the same purpose, but Evangeline must have kept it on her person, because Jax couldn’t find it. He searched her room, which was nothing more than a large closet under the stairs. It felt weird, checking her sleeping bag and under her pillow while she was sleeping there—or rather, while she had been sleeping there and would be again. Jax had never figured out a verb tense for expressing Evangeline’s state of existence between Grunsdays.

  “Looking for something?”

  Jax jumped when he heard Riley’s voice, banging his head on the low, slanted ceiling. Sheepishly, he backed out of the closet. “Yeah, I was looking for . . .” Dang it. Evangeline didn’t have anything. The girl literally had no possessions.

  Luckily, Riley didn’t wait for him to finish the sentence. He held up his cell phone with one hand clasped over the microphone. “Call for you. Calvin Bedivere.”

  For me? Jax mouthed, pointing at his own chest. Riley nodded and handed him the phone, then stood with his tattooed arms crossed, obviously planning to listen in. “Uh, hello, Mr. Bedivere?” Jax said hesitantly.

  “Hello, Aubrey,” the man on the other end of the phone said. “I understand that the children we were expecting to house have regrettably fallen into the hands of the enemy.”

  “Yeah,” Jax said mournfully. “We were too late.”

  “Very unfortunate, but it proves Riley Pendragon was right. The Llyrs are recruiting their own kind, and it would behoove us to provide sanctuary for as many neutral Kin as we can convince to trust us. Certain properties have been prepared—mostly vacation condos that were vacant and suitable for this purpose. I promised that you and your liege lady could inspect the premises, and I would like to meet her in person. She may have thoughts on how best to approach Kin who desire a safe house but are wary of Transitioners.”

  Jax put his hand over the microphone and whispered to Riley. “Is it safe for Evangeline to meet him?” Riley nodded. Jax removed his hand. “That’s a good idea, Mr. Bedivere. But my liege lady will come with Riley. I’d just be in the way.” Riley narrowed his eyes at Jax.

  “Very well. Shall we say ten a.m. on the next eighth day?”

  “Sounds good.” Jax ended the call and handed the phone back.

  “I know what you’re up to,” Riley said.

  “Uh, you do?” Jax doubted it. Riley would look a lot angrier if he did.

  “Me going alone with Evangeline isn’t going to patch things up between us.”

  As Jax had feared, his spilling the beans about the Table vote had precipitated another argument between Riley and Evangeline. This one had been private—no blades on the table or anything—but apparently emotional. Jax had spotted Evangeline afterward with reddened eyes and a splotchy complexion, like she’d been crying. And Riley had taken off noisily on his motorcycle to blow off steam or sulk or whatever guys did after fighting with their girlfriends. Sending them together to Bedivere’s might not be a bad idea. “Why not?” Jax urged. “You could take her on your motorcycle, maybe bring a picnic basket and make a date out of it.” Apologize for keeping secrets from her—and tell her about your plan for staying together, you big dummy.

  Riley stalked away, muttering, “It’d be pitiful if I had to take advice from an eighth grader.” But he didn’t say he wasn’t going to try it, which was all Jax needed to know. Sure, he really hoped Riley and Evangeline made up. But more importantly right now, Jax wanted them out of his way on Grunsday.

  Over the course of the next few days, Riley and Jax received updates sent by Sheila Morgan to all the Table members regarding the search for the Llyr hideout. Deidre didn’t think the enemy plane had spotted hers, so there was no reason to believe the flight path she’d seen them on had been a diversion. The plane had been too far away to identify their heading with precision, but the Morgans were concentrating their search in northern Vermont, New Hampshire, Maine, and Canada, especially in remote mountainous and wooded areas where a group of Kin could escape detection.

  Other Transitioners had thrown their resources into the effort, too, and Jax had a bad feeling that time was running out. If the Morgans found that plane—or any of the others involved in the Oeth-Anoeth prison break—they’d bomb the site. Addie would be killed, and there was nothing Jax or Riley could do to stop it from happening.

  Meanwhile, Jax acquired the saffron Evangeline wanted and wondered what he would do if Stink didn’t show up next Grunsday. He didn’t have a way to summon the brownie. He wasn’t even sure he could convey his wishes to Stink, or if Stink would comply. The brownie clearly felt an affinity to Jax, but Riley was the only one he obeyed. How smart was he? Like, service-dog smart? Or signing-chimpanzee smart?

  Jax was also worried about the children stolen from the Carroway house. If he successfully located Addie, he could smuggle her away from the Llyrs via the brownie tunnels, but he wouldn’t be able to take any of the other children. That bothered him a lot, but maybe if he could save Addie, she would have information for Transitioner forces that would help them capture the Llyrs without unnecessary deaths.

  It seemed like a long shot, but it was the best hope those kids had.

  An unexpected gift arrived on Wednesday afternoon, when Riley’s phone started buzzing on the dresser while Riley was in the shower. Jax checked the text in case it was urgent.

 
; Billy: FOUND THEM!!!!! CALL ME

  Jax gasped. No way could Billy Ramirez, working on the internet, have located the Llyrs. But Billy wouldn’t waste the caps-lock key on nothing. Jax went into the hallway to make sure Riley was still in the shower, then took the phone downstairs and out the front door, punching in Billy’s contact number.

  “Hey, dude. It’s Jax. Riley can’t talk right now, so he asked me to call you back. What’s up? You didn’t really find these guys, did you?”

  “I so did. I have stuff to send Riley. Does he still not have email?”

  “Yeah, he’s like from the Dark Ages,” Jax said. “Send it to me.”

  “Done!” Billy proclaimed. “Jax, I got ’em. I know I got ’em.”

  “By looking up elves and vampires?”

  “By looking up the paranormal, the supernatural, and the weird. After what happened in Vermont, Riley told me to focus on the northeast U.S. and Canada, and based on something Evangeline said, he mentioned that these Kin might have a lot of money. Those two things ended up being the final clues I needed to track them down.”

  “How?”

  “Jax, you won’t believe how many paranormal websites I’ve searched in the past three weeks. I mean, I love this stuff, but my brain was turning to mush. Then,” Billy exclaimed, his voice rising in enthusiasm, “after Riley narrowed the search, I stumbled across a blog site called Richie’s Haunted New England—”

  “Billy. Really?”

  “Don’t knock it till you’ve looked at it! Anyway, there’s a string of private islands off the coast of Maine owned by millionaires. One of them happens to have a single mansion, its own airfield, and a reputation for being haunted. The plane looks just like the one Riley described, and it’s serviced by people who operate only from written instructions. One of the housekeepers was interviewed on the blog. No one ever sees the plane take off or land, even though the fuel gets used up. The housekeeper takes a ferry to the island every Thursday and cleans the house and delivers food, even though nobody lives there. Somebody eats the food, though.”