A Kind of Magic

by Shanna Swendson

  In fact, he rather enjoyed watching them. One of the dancers, in particular, was mesmerizing. She didn’t seem to be constrained by gravity as she leaped and whirled about. There was something familiar about her, but he couldn’t seem to make the connection.

  She approached him, holding out a hand in invitation. He shook his head. “No thanks,” he said. “I’d rather just watch you. I’m not much of a dancer.”

  But he could watch her all day. The faint sunlight caught her reddish hair, making it shine like a crown. That was also familiar.

  A memory tried to struggle toward the surface. Wasn’t there something else he should be doing? It had to do with dancing, didn’t it? Or was this it, watching a redhead dance? Still, he couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling that something was wrong here. Or wrong somewhere.

  Someone shouted nearby, like they needed help. Instinctively, he headed for the sound, running into the woods surrounding the clearing. The redheaded dancer went after him, racing ahead to block his path. “You’re not leaving me, are you?” she said, clutching his arm. “Don’t you like watching me dance? I need you here with me.”

  “But I—” he protested weakly. His sense of urgency ebbed at her touch, and he let her lead him back to the clearing.

  Once he was there, she returned to her dancing, and he watched her. It wasn’t the same, though. There was something wrong about it, like she wasn’t the one he wanted to be watching. Yes, that was it, there was someone else he was supposed to be watching.

  “Sophie!” he said out loud. He was supposed to be at the ballet, watching her. What was he doing in the middle of the woods? And how was it so warm here? The clearing began to fade as more of the details came back to him. “Wait, this is just a dream,” he realized. “I’m going to wake up, and I’ll be at home, and probably late, and Sophie’ll kill me.”

  The dancer returned to him, now looking rather alarmed—or angry—and grabbed his wrist in a tight grip. “You don’t need to go. I’m here. You’re watching me.”

  This time, whatever magic she was trying to use on him didn’t work. “You’re not Sophie.” She still didn’t let him go, and although she looked slight, he couldn’t free himself.

  It was all in his head, he told himself. Part of him might be there physically, but there was still some part of him that was back in the real world, and if he woke up there, he’d have to leave this place. Closing his eyes to shut out what he saw, he focused as hard as he could on what he knew was real. He had a crick in his neck from falling asleep on the sofa. His shoulder ached. He hadn’t pulled a blanket over himself before he fell asleep, and his feet were cold.

  Her grip on his wrist grew even tighter, and that pain distracted him from the other physical sensations he was trying to feel, dragging him back to the forest. That was when he knew that even if this was a dream, it wasn’t just a dream. They wanted him here and were trying to keep him here. He was a prisoner. And that probably meant they were up to something somewhere else.

  Abruptly, the pressure on his wrist released, and he opened his eyes to find himself in a place that looked a lot like the empty space they’d visited when they’d gone into the dream world behind Emily’s mirror. There was a faint suggestion of trees superimposed on it, but they were fading. Eamon stood in front of him, holding the redhaired fairy at bay. “You should leave,” Eamon said.

  “I was trying,” Michael replied. “I think Sophie’s in trouble. They’re keeping me away from her.”

  “You go to her. I will find Emily and warn her.”

  Michael glanced around, unable to see an exit. “Go how?”

  “Wherever you go, if you’re trying to go home, you’ll get home. I will keep them from stopping you.”

  Michael felt bad about not thanking him, but knew that was a fairy taboo, so he settled for a nod before he ran into the woods. After he ran a few steps, he could see a light ahead of him, and he heard sounds that belonged more to New York than to the dream world. A dog was barking—probably Beau—the radiator was hissing, and Sophie’s voice called out, “Help!”

  At that, Michael jumped into the glow. He woke suddenly, gasping for breath, to discover that he really did hear something happening outside. He struggled to sit up and had to steady himself when he stood because his head was reeling. That melody threatened to take over, distracting him from his purpose. “Stop it!” he said out loud. “I don’t care about the music.”

  Instantly, his head cleared. He felt like he’d had a bucket of cold water thrown on him, but in a good way. He rushed to the window just in time to see two women nearing the end of the block. One was tall and dressed in furs, the other small and slender and giving the appearance of going reluctantly, even though he didn’t see any restraints or weapon in use. Whether or not it was Sophie, he felt like he needed to at least check on it.

  Grabbing his keys and his sidearm on the way out the door, he charged down the stairs. He heard Beau barking as he passed Emily’s door, but he didn’t stop. The women were out of sight by the time he got outside, but he sprinted down the sidewalk in the direction they’d gone. At the end of the block, he couldn’t see any sign of them in any direction until he forced himself to relax enough to let his fae-enhanced senses work, and then he saw them in the distance, heading for the park.

  Every fiber of his being wanted to chase after them, but common sense prevailed. If Sophie, with all her power, hadn’t been able to avoid being taken, he wouldn’t be able to do much to help her. He needed backup. Reluctantly, he turned and went back, suddenly conscious of how cold he was in his shirtsleeves, and already trying to come up with a plan.

  Forty-four

  The Theater

  11:00 p.m.

  Whatever it was that was going on with Charles, he’d been even more on fire that night, Emily thought as they took curtain call after curtain call. Was that a good sign or a bad sign? It might mean that she hadn’t separated him from his fairy muse, but it did mean that the show was a success. Either way, his interest in Emily hadn’t waned, and she had to admit to a shiver of anticipation running through her body when he caught her in his arms on the way to the stage door. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered, kissing her neck from the shoulder up.

  Her phone chose the worst possible moment to ring. “Ignore it,” rasped Charles as he kept nuzzling her neck.

  “I can’t,” she panted. Anyone calling her at this time of night was likely having an emergency. She managed to get the phone out of her pocket without interfering with the wonderful things Charles was doing to that sensitive spot right behind her ear and saw Michael’s name on the screen. “What’s up?” she said into the phone after accepting the call.

  “Oh good, you’re off the stage.” There was enough tension in his voice to drag her brain kicking and screaming into full consciousness.

  “What is it?” she asked as she extricated herself from her costar’s clutches.

  “Josephine has Sophie.”

  “What?”

  “It just happened a few minutes ago. I think they might have been heading toward the park.”

  “But why?”

  “Sophie would make a good hostage against your grandmother if Josephine wants her off the throne.”

  “But why now? She hasn’t tried to kidnap her before.” She belatedly realized that she probably shouldn’t have mentioned kidnapping while Charles was right there, but he didn’t seem to be paying much attention.

  “Maybe she got tired of having all her other plans foiled.”

  “Have you called the sisters?”

  “I don’t know if I should. Things aren’t great with them.”

  “You’re going to need backup.” Hating what she was about to say, and knowing that she had to say it, she said, “I’ll talk to them. They’ve been treating me like a neutral party. You go to the park and call me when you know something. Bring Beau with you.”

  “Now, where were we?” Charles asked when she disconnected the call.

  “
Sorry, I’m going to have to take a raincheck. My sister’s in trouble and needs my help.” She laughed out loud. “And that’s high on the list of things I never thought I’d say. It’s usually the other way around.”

  She rushed through the stage door with him hot on her heels. The crowds waiting outside came as a surprise to her because she’d been so focused on what was going on, first with Charles and now with Sophie, that she’d forgotten entirely that she was something of a star and she was at a theater. That was a good sign of just how serious things were.

  This would have been a great time for her magical powers to kick in so that she could cloak herself and sneak off through the crowd, but that lesson hadn’t yet been covered in Athena’s binders and she still hadn’t made her powers work in this world. Instead, she had to waste precious time signing autographs and letting people take selfies with her. She’d spent so much of her life dreaming about this kind of life that she never thought she’d be complaining about it.

  All the while, Charles barely left her side. He must have transferred his obsession from the leanan sidhe to her, and while she might have enjoyed that otherwise, at least for a while, it was inconvenient right now. When they’d made it past the fan gauntlet, he made as though to follow her. “I told you, not tonight. Maybe later,” she said, trying not to be too rude, since they were still in public and the last thing she wanted was a costar tiff going viral.

  She saw a silver head that stood out from the surroundings moving toward her, and she’d never been so glad to see Eamon. “Ah, there you are, Emily Drake,” he said when he drew near. “Sophie needs help.”

  “I know. Michael called. But I can’t persuade my friend here to go home alone. I think he might have a bit of a redhead obsession that’s enhancing his stage performance.” She hoped that was specific enough for Eamon to read between the lines and vague enough that Charles wouldn’t realize she was discussing fairies.

  “Yes, I see,” Eamon said after studying Charles for a moment.

  “Hey, buddy, who the hell are you?” Charles asked Eamon. “Emily, who is this guy?”

  “He’s a friend.”

  “What kind of friend?”

  If only she had a good answer to that question. “A friend I need to talk to now.”

  Charles looked for a moment like he was going to get belligerent with Eamon, but then he paused and his eyes went unfocused. “Go home and sleep soundly, with no dreams, no one invading your sleep,” Eamon said, his mercury eyes swirling hypnotically.

  “So, see you at the matinee tomorrow?” Charles said, surprisingly conversationally.

  “You bet. Later!” Emily said cheerfully. Charles turned and wandered off in the opposite direction.

  “You say Michael called you?” Eamon said, his tone making it a question.

  “Yeah. He said Josephine was taking Sophie toward the park. Maybe she wants Sophie to take her into the Realm.”

  “There is a market tonight. That is another possibility.”

  “Why would she want to go to the market, and would she need Sophie’s help for that?”

  “Perhaps not. But if she only wanted into the Realm, why would she take her at this precise time? A market brings together fae from both worlds.”

  “Then let’s get to market, pronto.”

  “No, we must go to the palace.”

  “The palace?”

  “The queen must learn of this development.”

  “Oh, right. Good idea. Except I need to talk to the enchantresses. You go to the palace, I’ll see if I can get the enchantresses on board, and we’ll meet up at the market. Where is the market, anyway?”

  “It’s at the castle.”

  “Okay, we’ll meet there.”

  At least, she hoped they would. Surely Amelia and Athena wouldn’t let a kidnapping slide just because of some oath.

  Forty-five

  The Park

  11:30 p.m.

  Sophie wasn’t prone to panic. She prided herself on her ability to keep a cool head. Now, though, felt like the perfect time to have an epic meltdown, only she couldn’t indulge herself because Josephine’s iron control kept her from being able to do anything other than walk alongside her. After her cry for help, Josephine had even shut her voice down. All she could do that was outside her captor’s control was think, and she doubted that all her imagined insults would do Josephine any harm.

  Which meant that mentally cataloging Josephine’s flaws and dreaming up potential tortures was a waste of time. What she needed was a plan, and for that she needed to have some idea of what Josephine wanted with her. They’d gone straight to the park, which was the seat of fae activity in the city. There were fae creatures who lived there, that was where gateways to the Realm could be found, and all the fairy markets Sophie had seen in this city had been there. Josephine had fae allies she met there. If anyone wanted to prove the existence of fairies, that would be where to go. So, was Josephine forcing the issue by bringing her enchantress colleagues there? Which meant there was likely to be a demonstration in which Josephine got to be the hero. Was Sophie being turned over to Josephine’s fae allies as payment for a staged demonstration? It seemed the most likely possibility.

  When she saw the number of fae in the park, she felt it confirmed her theory. Something was about to happen. It had to be getting close to midnight—not that she was able to move her arm to check her watch—which meant they might be heading to a fairy market. That would be the perfect spot for a demonstration to “prove” a fae threat and Josephine’s ability to handle it.

  Which meant Sophie couldn’t let that happen. It wasn’t the time she’d arranged with Nana to drag Josephine into the Realm, but that had still been the plan and she could move it up. The trick would be opening a gateway. She needed true earth or grass for that, so she needed to be off the path. From there, she wondered if she’d be able to summon the requisite magic. Nothing she’d tried, either fae or enchantress, had worked while she was under Josephine’s thrall.

  “There you are,” Josephine said as she brought herself and Sophie to a stop. Sophie couldn’t see who Josephine was talking to because she couldn’t turn her head. “I’ve brought her. Now we’ll see if this works.”

  Sophie felt someone moving behind her, and a voice said, “Are you sure she’s the one? She seems human.”

  “She’s more human than fae, but she has the fae part that counts, and by all accounts, she won the throne properly. Which goes to show that anyone who knows the trick can do it.”

  Sophie didn’t think that was quite true, but she was incapable of arguing, and arguing probably wouldn’t have been the smartest thing to do under these circumstances. She’d discovered while Josephine was sidetracked by talking to her friend that she could move her fingers ever so slightly. The hold on her must have taken some concentration to maintain, so what she needed now was a big diversion to allow her to break free enough to turn the tables and take Josephine to the Realm. And preferably before midnight.

  Forty-six

  Michael’s Apartment

  Meanwhile

  As much as Michael wanted to run headlong into the park to help Sophie, he forced himself to take his time and prepare properly. He loaded a backpack with water bottles and energy bars, just in case he ended up in the Realm. He filled the outer pockets of the bag with iron nails and plastic bags of iron filings for dealing with fae opponents. For other opponents, he had his sidearm on his belt and brought some spare ammunition. That was a last resort because firing his service weapon would result in paperwork, and he doubted that battling fairies would go over well as a reason. Still, the park was his jurisdiction, and anything that might look to the outside world like a dangerous riot might justify gunfire if he got desperate. Was there anything else that might help? He couldn’t think of anything, but he wasn’t sure how straight his thinking was right now. He hoped the enchantresses were better prepared for all this than he was. And he hoped they were willing to take action.

 
Once he was packed, he headed down to Emily’s place to retrieve a frantic Beau. The dog must have heard the commotion outside earlier. Or else he desperately needed a walk. Either way, Michael had to shut the door to keep him from running off before he could get the leash on him, and it was like hitting a moving target to connect with the collar, Beau was dancing around and twitching so impatiently.

  If he’d had a skateboard, Beau would have probably pulled him straight to the park—though he’d probably have been killed getting across a street because Beau wouldn’t have slowed down. As it was, he had to pull back on the leash with all his weight at each intersection to stop the dog from darting out into traffic. “It’s okay, buddy,” he said, trying to soothe Beau. “We’ll find her and help her.”

  Finding her would be the challenge. The park was big, and he didn’t even know if they were in the park or if Josephine had made Sophie take them through a gateway. He knew Beau was no bloodhound, but his sense of smell had to be better than Michael’s, so once they were in the park, he said, “Find Sophie, Beau.” The dog was already sniffing around, and Michael wondered how much he understood.

  He tried looking at the scene with his enhanced senses, and he thought he detected the remnants of fae magic, but it wasn’t enough for him to be able to tell what had happened. Really, the whole park was full of traces of fae magic, if you knew what to look for. And there seemed to be more than he normally noticed tonight. Were they having one of those fairy markets? Maybe that was where Josephine was taking Sophie.

  He watched the flow of fae traffic, trying to sense a general direction, and decided they must be heading toward either the castle or the theater. Beau didn’t object when he changed course to join them, so he figured he was on target. He still hadn’t seen any sign of Sophie or Josephine, though. They had a good head start, but Josephine didn’t appear to be a fast walker, so he hoped to have gained ground.