A Kind of Magic

by Shanna Swendson

  It occurred to her that while a fairy wouldn’t have made it deep into the city and into a modern high-rise to take a child, three golden-haired children alone in the middle of the park would be nearly irresistible to the fae. She didn’t dare fend them off by pulling rank. She had to handle this like an enchantress would. Unfortunately, she was much better at pulling rank than she was at enchantress magic.

  “Have you got iron?” she whispered to Michael.

  “I thought we were trying to attract them this time,” he whispered back. “You think something’s out there?”

  “I’m afraid so.” She might have been planning to talk to whatever fae she found, and she might have come around from her previous “all fae are evil and not to be trusted” mindset, but she still carried iron at all times. She eased the miniature horseshoe keychain out of her pocket and stood slowly, scanning the area with all her senses.

  There was definitely something out there, and it wasn’t mortal, she was fairly certain. She mentally ran through the lessons in Athena’s binders. It would be best to limit herself to magic she’d learned there rather than going on any instinct at all. Her instincts were more likely to turn to her fae side.

  Then she had a sickening thought: If she did anything that made it obvious she was having to defend the children from the fae, it would still look like they were responsible for the kidnapping and she was saving the children from fairies. It wouldn’t play quite into Josephine’s hands, but it would still give her something to work with.

  But how could Sophie save them without using fae magic and without doing anything to even indicate that the fae were nearby? She suspected in her gut that someone associated with the enchantresses was nearby to witness the event and report on it. At least, that’s what she would have done.

  She detached the horseshoe from her keychain and hurled it in the general direction of the rustling noise. There was a satisfying muffled yelp in response. “Go get it, Beau,” she ordered.

  The bulldog wasn’t normally one for fetch, but he seemed to know that there was something out there, and he’d developed a taste for fairies. She thought the rustling sounded like it was moving away, and soon she heard sirens. The sirens were quickly followed by flashlight beams shining toward them. One of the children started crying louder. Another said, “Is that a fire truck?”

  Michael stood and called out, “Over here!”

  Several police officers came crashing through the bushes. They carried thermal blankets and soon had the children bundled up, and Sophie gratefully put her own coat back on. The officers carried the children off to the car, and Michael filled their leader in on what had happened. While they talked, Sophie searched the ground for her keychain, retrieved it, and caught Beau’s leash. “Good boy,” she told him.

  More officers arrived and fanned out through the park, and she figured that whoever was out there—fae or otherwise—was likely making him or herself scarce. The threat appeared to be over. For now.

  Sophie rejoined Michael, who introduced her to the officer. She ignored the raised eyebrow and smirk. It must have been an unusual occurrence for Michael to be out on a Saturday night with a woman, and she hoped he didn’t get too much grief about it. She gave her own version of the story: They were out walking her sister’s dog, the dog had sensed something and led them to the children, no, she hadn’t seen anything else, and the children hadn’t been able to tell them anything.

  “The kids did ask to have the siren on,” Michael added.

  “I believe we can make that happen,” the officer said with a grin before leaving.

  As soon as they heard the siren start, Michael said softly to Sophie, “Okay, what’s up with all this? Now they’re returning the kids?”

  “I guess there’s not much point in keeping them if we weren’t fooled about the fae being to blame. Would you want to be stuck with three toddlers?”

  “But dumping them in the park, at night, in this weather? That’s almost worse than taking them in the first place.”

  “I don’t think it was random. Maybe Josephine or any cronies she has were planning to immediately find the children, themselves, after fending off the fae, and we got in the way.”

  “Or they were watching you and setting you up to find the kids and fight off the fairies. If you were the one to raise doubts, it would have been nice to use you to make the point and prove you wrong.”

  The thought that she might be under surveillance made her skin crawl. “You have a very devious mind, Detective,” she said, trying to keep her tone light and fighting the urge to look around for stalkers.

  “It comes with the job. Either way, they might still be around, watching us. I guess finding a fairy to talk to is off the agenda for tonight.”

  “That’s probably for the best.” They were speaking in low voices, and that required standing very close, which helped Sophie forget that it was actually rather cold. “Some other time, perhaps.”

  “Then if you don’t mind, let’s get out of here.”

  She kept her eyes, ears, and magical senses on high alert as they headed out of the park, but she didn’t notice anything unusual. No one was using magic nearby, and if anyone was following them, they were doing a very good job of it. Maybe they’d accomplished their goal when the kids were found and were cutting their losses when no fairy battle had ensued. “Do you think you can check in on the kids later?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll head over to the hospital after I get Beau home. I’ll need to talk to the families and file a more formal report.”

  “See if you notice anything about the kids.”

  “You mean, using my new magical senses?”

  “That and your usual common sense. If they want to talk to you and can tell you anything about where they’ve been, that’s a bonus.”

  “Aye, aye, sir,” he said with a mock salute. “While I’m at it, I’ll make sure Beau gets to collect any reward. I bet he gets showered with chew toys for being such a hero.”

  She laughed, but she still felt unsettled. This had been too easy, and yet it still didn’t prove anything in a way that she could do anything about. She had no evidence, and she wasn’t even sure what plot she’d thwarted. Instead of it all being over with, she suspected it was only just beginning.

  Fifteen

  The Theater

  11:15 p.m.

  “Hey, Will, good show,” Emily said, giving her friend a quick hug as they headed toward the dressing rooms. “You look like you’re feeling a lot better.”

  “I never said I was feeling bad.”

  “Okay then, more well-rested.”

  “Did I really look that awful?”

  Oops. She hadn’t meant to insult him or be quite so obvious, but she had been worried. Saturdays were rough on the whole cast, but he did seem to have more energy than he’d had the night before. “No, not really. You just seem perkier, is all. In fact, you’re making me look bad.”

  “No, Olivia’s making us all look bad.”

  He had a point. The rest of the cast had to power through Saturdays, but Olivia seemed to be floating through it all on a cloud of glory. It was almost uncanny enough for Emily to suspect supernatural activity, but she hadn’t been able to find any evidence. Maybe Olivia was just on an adrenaline high from getting a big break. Applause was highly addictive, and rave reviews were better than a shot of espresso.

  At least Emily was pretty certain that Olivia wasn’t dancing her nights away with the fairies. There was no way she’d be performing so well if she were—Will’s situation was proof of that. “Olivia’s having a good week,” she said, trying to sound neutral and not the least bit jealous.

  “That’s the understatement of the century.”

  “I wonder what her secret is.”

  “You mean the crowbar to Sally’s foot?”

  “No. I mean the sudden starpower. Not that I didn’t know she had it in her,” she hurried to correct herself. “But this is more than I’ve ever seen. Where has
she been hiding that all this time?”

  He put his arm around Emily’s shoulders. “You know, we could have said the same about you a few months ago.”

  As she changed into her street clothes, she couldn’t help but wonder what he meant by that. Was it the boost she’d received after her time in the fairy realm, or did he mean the one performance she’d done as the lead before her world was suddenly upended? But she was pretty sure that Olivia hadn’t been abducted by fairies and returned the way Emily had been. For one thing, she’d never gone missing, and for another, it would have taken some intervention to keep her from pining away. Emily still had pangs for the Realm, and if she let them, they’d have been a deterrent to her performance, not an enhancement.

  She was still pondering all this as she left the theater. She signed a few autographs for fans who were devoted enough to wait out in the cold, but there was no sign of a certain silver head in the crowd. “Face it, Em, he’s just not that into you,” she muttered to herself. What did she expect? She was human and he was fae. He might be fascinated by humans, but that didn’t mean he wanted to take all the necessary risks to tie himself to one. She should be flattered that he’d even noticed her at all.

  Camera flashes going off nearby made her blink, but they weren’t aimed at her. Olivia had just come out of the theater and was making her way past the waiting fans. Emily told herself that she wasn’t at all jealous of her friend’s newfound stardom. She was merely worried, and she hoped that Olivia hadn’t unknowingly got herself into trouble.

  Instead of heading home, Emily turned to follow Olivia. The crowd of well-wishers provided good cover, so Emily went unnoticed. Olivia wasn’t going straight home, but she also didn’t seem to be going to the sort of place where she might meet a fairy. In fact, she seemed to be heading toward a nearby bar where theater people tended to congregate. Emily waited a second or two before following Olivia inside, then hung back near the entrance, watching her friend.

  Olivia was tall enough that she was easy to track, and she was making a beeline toward an even taller man. Emily recognized him as a friend from the cast of The Lion King. Or maybe more than a friend, judging by the way they greeted each other. Was that the reason Olivia was floating on air? Or was it the other way around—was he drawn to her more powerful performances and Broadway buzz? No, Emily reminded herself. He was on the same schedule they were, so he wouldn’t have seen Olivia in her new role. She saw nothing fae in him, and ever since her first adventure in the Realm, the fae stood out for her as though spotlit. It was probably just an ordinary new relationship, too new to yet share with friends.

  “It’s just the circle of life,” Emily whispered to herself before slinking out of the bar and turning for home. Now, more than ever, she wished that silvery head would show up for her.

  Sixteen

  Amelia and Athena’s Apartment

  Sunday, 3:00 p.m.

  Michael supposed he was really in the inner circle if he’d been invited to Amelia and Athena’s home. He’d called Sophie when he’d had an update about the missing and returned children, and next thing he knew, he’d been invited over to discuss it.

  When he saw the apartment building, he decided that either antiques or enchantressing paid really well. It was the kind of building where someone just about had to die before anyone else could get an apartment. He could feel the doorman judging him and wished he’d put on a tie.

  Upstairs in their apartment, he really wished he’d put on a tie, for all three women were dressed up. Well, perhaps not “up” in the case of Amelia, who always looked elegant, or Sophie, who usually didn’t look too casual unless she was on her way to or from a dance class or rehearsal, but he’d never seen either of them at home. Athena was the most casual one of the group, and she, too, wore a nice dress on this occasion, though with handmade pumpkin earrings.

  Then there was the tea laid out on the table in the living room, with fine china and dainty sandwiches. He felt like the giant teddy bear included among the dolls at a little girl’s tea party. Sophie caught his eye and gave him a wry, somewhat resigned, smile, so he got the impression that this hadn’t been her idea.

  Athena bustled around, putting on the finishing touches. “Detective, you sit there on the couch by Sophie. Make yourself at home. Amelia, would you do the honors?”

  Amelia picked up a teacup. “Milk or lemon?”

  “Um, lemon, I guess.” With a pair of silver tongs, she placed a wafer-thin sliver of lemon in the cup before pouring the tea and handing it to him. “Help yourself to a sandwich,” she offered.

  Athena joined the others around the table. “I’ll take milk in mine, please.”

  Michael waited patiently until the ceremony of pouring had been completed and they’d all loaded tiny plates with bite-sized sandwiches. “Now, Detective,” Amelia said. “What did you have to tell us about those missing children?”

  “The kids Sophie and I found last night were the ones who’d been missing,” he confirmed. “They couldn’t tell us anything about where they’d been, and I don’t think it was just because they’re so young. They didn’t realize they’d been gone more than a day. They’d been well cared-for—aside from being taken out of their beds and then dumped in the park on a cold night. There were no signs of trauma or dehydration. They don’t yet have results back on tests for any drugs.”

  “If it’s what we suspect, there won’t be any,” Amelia said.

  “There’s no point at which magic isn’t just as effective at keeping someone calm, and it doesn’t show up in blood tests,” Athena explained. “There are tests for it, but no hospitals are likely to run them.”

  “And the effect isn’t likely to linger long,” Amelia added.

  “I didn’t notice anything magical when I got a look at them at the hospital last night,” Michael said. “By then, they were so excited about having ridden in a police car with the siren on that they’d practically forgotten anything scary had happened. We tried asking them about what people they’d seen, but all they wanted to talk about was Beau.”

  “I suppose we can be grateful that they were returned safely and that Josephine can’t take any credit for saving them from the fae,” Sophie said. “I also managed to avoid anything that looked like me fighting off fairies, so it shouldn’t work as any proof of a fae threat. This should be a nonevent for the magical world, right? I’m more concerned about all the other fae activity that’s going on, and we weren’t able to get any kind of message into the Realm because we were busy with the children.”

  “We don’t know for sure it was Josephine,” Athena said, clutching her lace-trimmed cloth napkin in one hand.

  “Who else knew what we’d discussed about the kidnappings?” Amelia asked.

  “Even if she was the one, that doesn’t mean she’s wrong about uniting the circles,” Athena said.

  “Uniting them to do what?” her sister asked archly. “You aren’t suggesting we actually take on the fae, are you?”

  “I wonder …” Sophie said, her eyes focused a million miles away, or perhaps on another world entirely. “If we could manage to arrange it with Nana, maybe we could set up some kind of ceremony that looks like a treaty with the fae, then it will look to the enchantresses like it’s all been sorted out.”

  “The trick would be that it really does have to be sorted out,” Amelia said. “It would look like a violation of the treaty if anything happened afterward, and unless your grandmother plans to rule the entire Realm with an iron fist and truly close off the borders forever, something will happen.”

  “No, she’d never do that,” Sophie said, shaking her head. “If only she could just temporarily calm them all down until we deal with Josephine.”

  The intercom buzzed, and the sisters exchanged a glance. “Speak of the devil,” Amelia muttered. She put down her teacup and rose from her chair. “I’ll deal with this.”

  Michael started to ask how they knew who it was, but decided that was a stupid question. Am
elia spoke to the doorman over the intercom, then lingered in the foyer until they heard a knock on the door. She managed to sound somewhat pleased by the surprise visit, which Michael thought was probably a feat of acting skill that rivaled anything Emily could do on stage. “We were just having tea, so do please join us,” Amelia said, ushering the guest inside. “You remember Detective Murray, don’t you?”

  Michael stood as Josephine entered the room, and she gave him an approving nod before she took the seat Amelia gestured her toward. Athena picked up a cup. “Milk or lemon?” she asked.

  “Neither, but two sugars, please,” Josephine said, crossing her legs at the ankles and surveying the room. Michael couldn’t tell what she was looking for, but she was definitely looking, sizing things up.

  A game of teatime chicken ensued, with all the women seemingly fighting over who wouldn’t be the first to speak. Amelia and Athena looked bound and determined that they weren’t going to imply in any way that they didn’t know exactly why Josephine was there, and Josephine was taking great pains to look as though she was merely stopping by on a social call. Sophie just watched all three of them, her eyes suggesting that they were lucky they weren’t bursting into flames.

  Just when Michael was on the verge of blurting, “So, how about those Jets?” to break a silence that had grown so heavy it threatened the building’s structural integrity, Josephine finally cracked.

  “I saw that the missing children were returned safely,” she said.

  “Yes, that is a great relief,” Amelia said.

  “Those poor families,” Athena said. “But it should be a happy holiday season for them now.”

  More silence. The sisters calmly sipped their tea and took sandwiches. Michael ate several sandwiches and started on the tiny cakes. Sophie slipped her left foot in and out of its shoe. Color rose from Josephine’s collar up her neck toward her hairline. It reminded Michael of the whistle on a teakettle, forced by the pressure to make a sound, when she finally said, “And well done, Detective, Sophie.”