“Why don’t they just leave?” He might have whined.
“Because Miru won’t pay them until they bring you to him.”
Money. These people killed for money. He knew that. As soon as he’d seen Ernold’s corpse, he’d known that.
“There will be time to feel everything later.” Grandma Katona squeezed his hand. “For now, we have work to do. They want you, which makes you the bait for our trap.” She glanced around the room, then pointed for him. “Get two bottles of red wine and find some candles. I’ll fetch a few things from the kitchen and come back.”
She could have sent him to the kitchen with a list. Then he would’ve climbed the stairs again and reached high shelves.
He suspected she wanted to spare him the cruelty of seeing Ernold’s body once more. And he appreciated that kindness.
“Thank you, Grandma.”
Grandma Katona patted his shoulder and left him.
He slipped through the room, trying to remember where they stored the candles. The servants normally took care of the cellar and its contents. When he needed a candle, he asked for one. Ten or fifteen minutes later, the servant produced one.
No, he would not let himself think about the servants.
Or those two dead monsters.
As quietly as he could, he checked wooden boxes on shelves in the shadows.
With some effort, he could make a magical light. Any mage could, so his grandmother had said. No matter how they applied or used their magic, they could always make simple light. But he worried Jannil or Benny might see it and come investigate.
When he discovered the candles, he found a treasure trove of them in a variety of sizes. Uncertain of Grandma’s intent, he took two six-inch pillars and two twelve-inch tapers.
Examining them for defects kept his mind on tiny bumps and pits in the beeswax instead of bloodstains.
The wine, he had more difficulty selecting. Half the bottles in the rack were red.
Red, the color of blood.
He shook his head and forced himself to read the labels. The words had nothing to do with death or killing. Nothing among them reminded him of Ernold. If only he could wander through the wine racks forever, nothing else bad would happen.
His fingers touched textured paper and brushed over smooth ink. He needed two bottles. Grandma Katona didn’t care which two he took. Neither should he.
This one reminded him of his mother. How could he sacrifice her favorite things? She already had more than enough reason to disown him.
Grandma Katona sighed. He hadn’t heard her return. In some ways, he hadn’t wanted her to return.
Her return meant he couldn’t hide anymore.
“We can always get more, Algie.” She pointed to two bottles of her personal favorite. “If it bothers you this much, pick those. I’ll be fine.”
She stowed the candles inside a canvas bag with a drawstring then handed the bag to Algernon. “We need to move.”
“Yes, Grandma.” Algernon looped the strings over his shoulder and took the two bottles of wine.
The wine meant nothing.
He followed her up the stairs to the second floor. They both listened for several long moments. As Algernon cracked open the door, he heard another door open above.
“It’s worth a look,” Jannil said from the floor above.
Grandma Katona pushed through the door. Algernon hurried after her. They closed the door without latching it.
Algernon stood to the side, listening and hoping the pair passed without a glance.
“He better not be hurt, though,” Jannil said.
Benny grunted. “Maybe she hit the old lady.”
“I hope so. But we have to expect the worst. This is probably for servants, right? That means it goes to the kitchen, or close to it. Which is a good place to be when you’re hurt.” Jannil’s voice drew closer.
Algernon’s pulse raced. He had one thought and no others—if Jannil walked through the door, he had to hit her.
They quieted. He heard the barest hint of scuffing from their boots. Every sound thundered in his ears.
Lightning flashed, painting his shadow on the door. If they saw it, they’d leap through, ready to attack.
Thunder cracked, making him jump.
Nothing happened. Jannil and Benny hadn’t seen his shadow or heard him breathing.
“I hope they enjoy the booby trap I left in the kitchen,” Grandma Katona whispered. She patted his shoulder and led him down the grand staircase to the front door.
They circled to the lounge with the central staircase heading upward only. Chaise lounges, couches, and loveseats dominated the large space. Thin, gauzy draperies hung over the outside wall of small-paned windows.
Grandma Katona led him to a smaller, adjacent sitting room festooned with ornate carvings, plush velvets, and lavish furs. The room had a large window, a dark fireplace with a screen, and a second door leading to another room of the same type.
These spaces offered privacy during parties. For some, they served as small havens of quiet. Others used them for more carnal purposes.
“Set up the pillar candles here.” She pointed beside the door. “We want it to be lit already and not disturbed by the door opening but still as close as possible.”
Algernon retrieved both candles and placed them. Under her direction, he also balanced a small bag of flour on the lintel and attached it to the doorknob. When the door opened wide enough to allow a person through, the bag would fall.
“I don’t understand the point,” Algernon said as he finished checking his work.
Grandma Katona sighed. “Later, I’ll tell you the story of how I learned about this from Ernold. Flour dust explodes if you catch it in the air with fire. Most kinds of dust do the same.”
Algernon had only ever known Ernold as the kind man in the kitchen who always smiled and remembered to make his favorite crackers.
He would’ve liked to have the chance to learn more about Ernold.
Monsters.
“We don’t have time to get elaborate with the knives.” Grandma Katona scanned the room and grinned at the fireplace. “Fetch that rack.” She pointed to the small, elegant golden stand holding an iron poker and tongs.
Algernon leaned the poker and tongs against the wall and brought the stand to her. “What’s this for?”
She laid it on the floor and set knives along the post, pointing as close to upward as possible. “It’s a trick, Algie. I’m going to cover it and the door with an illusion. They’ll think the door is open. When they walk forward, they’ll hit the knives. With luck, that will cut up at least one shin.”
He blinked at her. “Grandma, you’re much scarier than I thought.”
Grandma Katona chuckled. “I wasn’t always old, Algie. Wait a minute here. I’m going to spread red wine in a trail of blood. When I get back, I’ll need you to lock and brace this door. While you’re waiting, make another fort like you did upstairs.”
“Yes, Grandma.” As Algernon moved the loveseat and two chairs, he tried to imagine his grandmother as a young woman. She lit people on fire with flour and candles, hid knives with illusions, and charmed older men with proficiency in cooking or baking.
His grandfather had died before Algernon was born. He’d avoided asking about the man after a simple question about him had sent his mother ranting and crying about the unfairness of death.
Mother had given him the ring soon after. To keep it, and him, safe.
Grandma Katona returned before he devolved into brooding again. “This will help me craft the illusion properly,” she muttered as she poured the last of the wine on his clothes, staining his shirt and pants.
He hated the feeling of wet clothing yet endured it for her. When she finished, he locked the door and braced the handle with the second room’s poker.
“Stand here.” She pointed to the corner closest to the door. With no visible effort on her part, she crafted an illusion over him. Like the first one she’d cast, th
is one concealed him so long as he remained still.
In preparation for the final confrontation, he drew his sword and held it ready.
“Whatever happens, Algie, I love you very much.” Grandma Katona smiled with bittersweet pride.
“I love you too, Grandma Katona.” He nodded his readiness.
Not that he was ready. He wanted to scream.
He wanted his mother. And his father. And Ernold. Everyone.
“When I come through, shut this door. Quietly.”
“Yes, Grandma.”
She hopped over the knives to reach the outer door. He heard her take a deep breath. “Grandma!” she wailed in an uncanny imitation of Algernon’s voice before it had lowered the previous year. “Come back! I can’t run anymore!”
After a few beats, she shut the door forcefully enough to echo through the house. Then she hopped over the knives again to rejoin him.
He shut the inner door as softly as he could.
Grandma Katona arranged herself on the floor as if she’d fallen before reaching the safety of the fort and still tried to get there.
As a final touch, she covered her body with an illusion of Algernon lying on the floor. The wine stains darkened to appear more blood-like.
Staring at a realistic image of himself, Algernon wished he lay on the floor instead. He wanted to take the real risk.
His grandmother deserved to sit in a chair and sip tea while he handled all this for her.
The outer door opened.
“What the—”
Algernon felt the explosion as a tiny press against his ears. A moment later, the second explosion thumped the wall.
One of them screamed. The other swore.
Wood and metal rattled on the floor. A heavy weight thumped into the door.
Another scream announced Grandma Katona’s illusion and knife trap had worked.
“Get him!” Jannil shrieked with pain pinching her voice.
The door flew open and cracked against the wall.
Benny lunged inside with his sword ready. Fresh red welts marred the flesh of his head. Soot stained his clothes and hair.
He checked the corner where Algernon hid and definitely saw nothing. “Stay where you are, kid.”
“Don’t hurt me,” Grandma Katona whimpered.
“I’m not gonna,” Benny grumbled. “Is it bad?” He pointed to the fake Algernon’s blood-stained side.
“Where’s your grandma?” Jannil growled from the other room.
Algernon hesitated. If he stabbed Benny where Jannil saw it, he had no way to surprise her.
They should’ve put him on the other side of the door. From there, he could’ve kicked the door shut.
Maybe the two of them could handle Jannil without surprising her.
“I don’t know,” Grandma Katona whined.
Benny sheathed his sword and reached toward Grandma Katona.
Terrified the contact would break the illusion, Algernon leaped from his hiding spot. He skewered Benny through the side, kept moving, and ripped out his blade.
When he stopped, he flung the door so it slammed shut.
Lightning flashed.
Jannil squawked in surprise.
Grandma Katona dropped the illusion and shoved Benny.
Benny fell over, gasping for breath.
Algernon locked the door. He bounded across the room and yanked the poker off the outer door.
As he fumbled with the lock, Jannil thumped against the inner door. She screamed curses.
Thunder boomed.
Grandma Katona took the poker.
Algernon yanked open the door. He took Grandma Katona’s hand and ran. They rushed to the ballroom.
Unused for several years, the wide, tiled expanse smelled of dust and old fabric. Huge blue drapes covered the windows. Weak colored light streamed through a circle of stained glass set into the roof in a sunburst pattern with blues, yellows, and greens. Stately columns formed a ring around the light, holding up the lofty ceiling.
“Use the columns and darkness,” Grandma Katona whispered. She nudged Algernon to the side and let go of his hand.
Algernon rushed behind a column. Grandma Katona hurried behind another.
“I know you’re in here!” Jannil bellowed.
The shadows around Algernon deepened.
“You won’t find him again,” Grandma Katona said. “I’ve already hidden him. You’ve seen only a fraction of my capabilities.”
Jannil snorted. “Sure.”
Algernon pressed his back to the stone column, willing his breathing to slow. He couldn’t afford to think about yet another dead man in the house.
His mother would die inside when she learned what Algernon had done.
“I don’t believe you,” Jannil continued. “People who rely on illusions are always liars. Did you know that, Algernon? You can never trust anything they say.” She paused and let out a tiny grunt of effort as she took another step. “Did she tell you she loves you, Algernon? And did you believe her? Every fiber of her being is built on lies.”
Algernon frowned. He knew his grandmother loved him without question. The path she’d pushed him down today led to dark places, but she’d done it to save him. He believed that.
His mother wouldn’t, but he did.
He kept his mouth shut, though. Jannil wanted him to talk so she could find him.
Peering to the side, he saw Jannil limp into the circle of colored light, her face painted with blue and green. Blood stained her right leg starting an inch below her knee.
With that much of an injury, he thought he might have a chance facing her. But he needed something more. One more advantage.
“Is that the best you can do?” Grandma Katona asked. “Call me a liar? I cannot fathom the arrogance of a person who walks into my house, murders my cook, and expects to walk out again while knowing nothing about us.”
Algernon saw Jannil turn her head, listening to Grandma Katona’s voice bounce off the walls. She turned and limped toward the column to Algernon’s left.
“For example,” Grandma Katona continued, “had you left the cook alive, we might have simply left so you could rob the house to your heart’s content. But no, you had to kill him.”
If she kept talking, Jannil would find Grandma Katona and kill her. Algernon needed to prevent that.
Jannil had seen illusions already.
He spun out power.
A copy of Algernon stepped into Jannil’s view. The translucent image had too much yellow and stilted, disjointed movements.
As long as he kept it that simple, he could maintain it.
Probably.
Around himself, he created a dancing flicker of fake flames. He also stepped into view.
Jannil turned and studied both him and his illusion. She bared her teeth. “You won’t fool me again,” she growled. “I’m not stupid!”
Another Algernon appeared a few columns away, not of his making. This one rippled like water.
“That remains to be seen,” Grandma Katona said.
A fourth Algernon glittered with golden sparkles. Only a moment later, a fifth glowed with bright red light.
The effort of holding together two separate pieces of illusion threatened Algernon’s tenuous control. His illusions pulsed.
They needed more power.
Every time he gave things more power, he lost control.
This one time, he thought maybe losing control might help.
Wait, that was a stupid idea.
No, he needed to trust his instincts and do it.
Algernon flooded his illusions with power. The weavings spun out of control.
Flames erupted across his body. They warmed his skin without harming him.
Lightning flashed.
The illusions threw no shadows. Algernon did. So did Grandma Katona.
Her shadow slapped the nearest column.
Jannil stood with her back to Algernon. She missed his shadow on the floor. But she saw Grandma K
atona’s.
As Jannil lunged at the column with her sword, Algernon charged.
Thunder cracked the air.
Algernon leaped at Jannil. Grandma Katona spoiled her illusion by moving. Jannil yanked back her sword.
Jannil squawked as Algernon slammed his body into hers. They flew through the air and hit the floor together in a tangle of limbs and swords. She screamed.
“Algernon,” Grandma Katona wheezed. “You’re burning!”
Jannil screeched in pain and rolled.
All the dust on the floor and in the air whooshed as the fire spread across it faster than he could track. It rushed to the walls in every direction. Pressure buffeted his ears.
Jannil’s flesh sizzled and popped. Her clothing burned.
Ephemeral fire scorched Grandma Katona where she lay bleeding on the floor.
Algernon stopped feeding the construct gone awry. He scrambled to put distance between himself and Jannil.
“I’m sorry, Grandma,” he gasped.
He lurched to his feet with his sword still in hand.
Still burning, Jannil crawled from him. She wailed and pulled herself by her hands.
Flames reached the curtains. They exploded.
The air vibrated and the room rocked with the blast.
Algernon dove for his grandmother.
“Go, Algernon,” Grandma wheezed between gasps. “Save yourself.”
“No.” He yanked the ring off his finger and shoved it onto hers.
The rare and wondrous gift from his parents knitted Grandma Katona’s flesh. Its magic worked slowly, but it would keep her injuries from killing her.
He dropped his sword and picked up his grandmother.
Around the edges of the expansive room, stone and brick cracked.
Algernon ran. The old woman in his arms slowed him enough to see the fire spreading.
His power had made fire terrible enough to burn stone and slate.
He fled through the wide, open doorway. Though he had a thought to collect Ernold’s body for proper burial, he doubted the magic-fueled fire would allow it.
His flight carried him to the double doors at the front of the house. He struggled with Grandma Katona’s bulk as he yanked to open one side.
Behind them, the fire roared like a wild animal freed from its cage.
In front of them, rain drove to the ground in a downpour.
Hidden Magic Page 11
