Endless Magic (Stella Mayweather Series Book 6)

by Camilla Chafer

  The woman inside was dead.

  I stepped closer, brushing Chyler off as she grabbed for my arm, ready to pull me away.

  The elevator doors were stuck, the little dings sounding each time they tried to close, only to retract again.

  "Call security," I shouted to the receptionist as I edged closer, every cell of my body on full alert. An alarm sounded from deep inside the building.

  I paused at the threshold of the elevator when the faint pulse of a spell vibrated from the car, but its intent didn't appear to be to attack. Instead, I found residual notes of invisibility and turn-away elements. Someone put the body in the car without being seen or stopped. Another element of the spell kept the car doors from sliding shut, ensuring its imminent discovery. Someone wanted to send a very powerful message.

  The dead woman wasn't solely human. She died recently, within a matter of minutes, judging by the wet blood, and the magic lingering on her, not quite ready to disperse yet. She was a witch. Her throat was cut, the blood congealing, and her eyes were wide open and startled. She never saw the attack coming.

  She'd been dumped, or positioned, on the floor, with her back against the corner, and her legs and arms spread wide like a ragdoll. Her head leaned limply to one side making the gash in her throat all the more obvious. Blood matted her long, brown hair and soaked her embroidered blouse. One hand held a piece of paper. I peered at it, trying to make out the writing without having to get any closer.

  Reaching a hand forward, I summoned the paper, extracting it from the car on a wave of telekinesis. I suspended it in the air in front of me, and didn't dare touch it in case it were spelled. As I explored it, I felt sure it wasn't; but I still didn’t want to take the risk and touch it.

  The words were simple, clear, and frightening.

  Étoile would go ballistic.

  As the sound of feet running through the corridors came closer, I turned to look for her amongst the swarm of black-fatigued guards that were fanning out across the reception area. Large arms closed around me, lifting me off my feet and carrying me away from the elevator. Over my shoulder, I caught one last look at the dead witch's glassy eyes before the guards blocked her from view.

  "Put me down!" I insisted, wriggling in their arms.

  "What were you doing next to that thing?" hissed a voice I recognised. The scent of earth surrounded us. "Stop wriggling."

  I stopped struggling, hanging limply as we moved to the back of the room. He set me down against a wall, spinning me around to look up at him.

  "Thank you, I think," I said, trying not to look too put out at being manhandled in front of the two dozen guards filling the lobby. I glanced around for Chyler. She was behind me a moment ago, but now I couldn't see her.

  "Are you okay?" Gage asked, gripping my shoulders as he perused me, searching for wounds.

  "Absolutely fine."

  "What were you doing? You could have been killed! That thing could have contained anything."

  "That 'thing' was a witch! Besides, there was no attack magic. She was a message. She, and you know, the actual message."

  "What if that message exploded in your face? I saw you summoning the paper. What if your magic triggered something?"

  "But it didn't," I protested weakly. That thought hadn't occurred to me. I didn't even suspect the spelled magic in the car, and around the dead witch, could have been booby-trapped and awakened by my magic. If Georgia were a part of my captivity, she would already know my magical signature. She could have spelled something for me to recognise and react to. I paled and gulped at my lack of foresight.

  "You were lucky."

  I was about to swallow my pride and admit he was right when Étoile swished past, briefly glancing at me and nodding when she saw I was fine. Gage relaxed his grip, waiting for Étoile, and I took the moment to look around. More guards had arrived, filling the area. A mixture of wizards, witches, and a few werewolves joined them. Some were from the search-and-rescue parties, while a few non-uniformed faces were recognisable as The Amethyst's guards. Most I didn't know, however, and I wondered if Étoile's increased defences included new hires from across our community. I turned away, searching again for Chyler, and found her with her back pressed against the wall. She clutched her bag across her chest, between two guards who stood close to her. To her right, I saw Evan as he stepped into the reception. He surveyed the area quickly, his eyes falling on me. His mouth was set in a grim line that turned even grimmer when he saw Gage.

  "I thought you weren't here," I said, stating the fact as I knew it. Shouldn't Gage have been collecting the talisman? His eyes looked tired, but there was an air of otherness about him, and his teeth weren't quite human yet. Apparently, he recently turned wolf.

  "I got back an hour ago, and yes, I have it."

  "You had to turn wolf to get it?"

  "It was faster than driving," he said. "I'll come find you later." Before I could ask him where it was, he vanished, moving nimbly through the assembled crowd to reach Étoile. I took the distraction as my moment to slide between guards, aiming for Chyler. She had to be terrified. So much for a warm welcome in the safest place on earth for witches! She had to be questioning why she came here.

  Before I reached her, Evan blocked my path. He caught my hand in his, inclining his head for me to follow. I shot what I hoped was a reassuring glance toward Chyler, and followed him to an empty spot as his hand tightened around mine.

  "What happened?" he asked. "I heard the alarm and followed the guards here."

  "Someone put a dead witch in the elevator and sent her up here."

  Evan pulled in a deep breath. "So we've been infiltrated."

  "I don't think so. She was spelled, and no one else was in the car. I was here when it opened."

  "What's the purpose of sending a dead witch?" Evan rubbed a hand over his face. "Except that it's one hell of a message."

  I opened my mouth to tell him exactly what kind of a message it was when I felt Étoile at my back. Her presence had a way of announcing itself, and I knew she was waiting for me. I turned, swallowing my shock at the message. Were they telling us they could kill any one of us, anytime? But that wasn't what the written message said.

  "They can't have you," she said as if I were an item on the menu. I suppose I was exactly that on The Brotherhood's most-wanted list: something to be bartered for and ultimately gotten. "They can't have either of you," she added. "The High Council will meet in the great hall in ten minutes. Bring someone for company."

  Before I could ask who, she continued her journey past us with several guards in tow at whom she barked her orders.

  I didn't care to wait to see what the remaining guards did with the body, but I did want to know what would happen when the High Council assembled. It seemed Étoile was calling high-level meetings daily now, and this one had to be urgent, given the circumstances.

  "Will you come with me?" I asked Evan.

  He nodded. "What did she mean?" he asked. "What did she mean, they can't have you?"

  "Stella?" Chyler grabbed my arm. The book was in her other hand, and the pages were still. Clearly, she'd given up waiting for me reach her, and that thought drove another shard of guilt through me. "What the hell was that?"

  "An attack," I told her, "but don't worry. Étoile has everything under control." Even as I said it, I hoped that was the case. Given Étoile's excellent poker face, it was hard to tell what she was thinking, but I had to assume it wasn't good. She saw the corpse. She also read the message. Even the thought of it chilled me to the core.

  "Is it because I brought the book?" she asked. "I just came up in that elevator. Ohmygosh! What if that had been me?"

  I put on my best reassuring face. "It wouldn't have been you. You weren't in any danger. That witch was already dead before someone put her in there, so they had to have snatched her before you even arrived. I don't think this has anything to do with the book."

  "Are you sure?"

  I thought about the me
ssage. "Positive."

  "Here. Take it." Chyler thrust the book at me, forcing me to grab the heavy tome with both hands. The pages rippled.

  "I'll take care of it," I promised.

  "I know you will. Anyway, if it's not happy, it will return to my family." She shifted from one foot to another and tried not to stare at Evan. "What do I do now?"

  "Go to your room. Try not to worry. I'll come find you when I know what's going on."

  "Okay." She nodded readily. "I won't worry. Much."

  "What's she doing here?" Evan asked as we left Chyler with a guard. She was looking even more worried as she gripped her small case and bag before heading towards the great hall.

  "I needed her help with something," I told him, tapping the book with my hand.

  "Oh?"

  "She asked me to unbind her."

  "Sounds like she needed you for something."

  I smiled. "It's a mutual thing. She wants to be a part of this." I waved a hand around, unsure if I indicated The Amethyst itself, or the cluster of hard-faced guards assigned to retrieve the body and disable the lingering spells.

  "She's not ready. She's too young."

  "I think that was said about me once."

  "You're different."

  "That's been said, too."

  Evan laughed, but he didn't ask any more questions as we walked into the great hall. Most of the chairs were empty and the High Council were already assembled, but this time, they were seated at a table on the floor, rather than above us on the stage. I would have said they looked casual, but since I knew why they were here, it was a very different sort of meeting.

  "What's going on, Étoile?" asked Arnie South, seated at the table, loud enough for the arriving assembly to hear. His goatee was neatly shaved, but he rubbed his hand over it, clearly worried. For someone who led his faction for more than thirty years, he didn't look much older than fifty. I wondered how he clung onto his command since his youth, or if he were genuinely good at it.

  "We've received a message from The Brotherhood," she said, dialing a number on her phone.

  "What? What did they say?" he asked, but she waved him quiet while waiting for whomever she dialed to answer.

  "Wake him," she said into the phone. "I know it's daylight, but wake him. It's important."

  "The vampires?" asked Corinthia, her dark eyes roaming the room before focusing on Étoile. "What's so important that you have to wake them before sundown?"

  Étoile ignored her as she continued, "Thank you. Yes. Please inform him he is on speaker." Étoile set the phone down on the table, addressing the other members of the Council, "We are all members of the High Council. An attack against one is an attack against all; and as of this moment, our security is threatened thanks to a Brotherhood message that has infiltrated this building. I have called you to discuss the matter; and Luke Fellows, representing the vampires, now joins us by phone."

  Gage strode past, not looking at any of us as he made a beeline for the table. Evan and I grabbed chairs and sat as Étoile called the meeting to order. While Evan was silent, I surveyed the High Council. All were present except for the vampires, whom Étoile clearly thought were important enough to have them present by phone. A body dropped into the seat next to me and I looked up. Daniel. I tried to give him a reassuring smile, which he returned with a confused shrug, as if he weren't quite sure why he was here.

  "I am here," said a disembodied voice via the speaker. "Why have I been summoned?"

  Étoile leaned towards the phone. "Luke, I apologise sincerely for waking you."

  "I was not asleep."

  "A message was received at The Amethyst from The Brotherhood."

  "You keep saying that," interrupted Arnie. "What did it say? What do they want?"

  Anger flashed in Étoile's eyes, but vanished in a millisecond. "The Brotherhood demands that we turn over Stella Mayweather and Daniel Morgan. Or, as they said, return them. If we refuse, they say there will be consequences. The message was delivered by a witch I had out on patrol. Her throat was cut."

  I hoped I only imagined the sound of someone licking their lips, but I figured I probably didn't. I wished something like that bothered me now. Instead, I turned to Daniel to see if he needed my reassurance, to tell him that of course the High Council wouldn't turn us over. But Daniel didn't look afraid. Instead, he took a deep breath, his mouth set in a thin line of anger.

  "The delivery of the message suggests a refusal would bring dire consequences," said Luke.

  "I concur," said Étoile.

  "So why don't we turn them over?" suggested Luke. "They've already had the girl, and the boy is of little use to us."

  Sitting beside me, Daniel bristled. I bumped his arm gently with my elbow and blinked at him, hoping he got my message: Stay calm. Say nothing.

  "They are two of our own," Étoile responded icily. "I would no sooner turn them over, than two useless recently-turned."

  "But what about the consequences? We hand them over in order to avoid any further attacks!" Arnie persevered.

  "I believe The Brotherhood are conspiring a ruse," said Corinthia, her voice deep and melodic, commanding attention. "They cannot be trusted."

  "Your personal feelings towards Stella Mayweather don’t outweigh the needs of all of us. They're just two witches! We have five races to protect here," Arnie continued to protest.

  Gage slammed his fist against the table, causing the shifter to jump. "How does giving up two of our own protect our races?" he asked.

  "Don't get me started on what you know of Stella," snarled the shifter as my face coloured. Gage didn't even look in my direction, but a pulse of heat from Evan told me he was annoyed at the shifter's intimation.

  Étoile slammed a hand on the table. "Personal feelings do not enter this. What is at stake is a dead witch was used to deliver an ultimatum demanding two of our own, or face whatever may come our way. Turn over two, they ask for two more. First witches, then shifters... We can't allow that!"

  "We..." the shifter started, but Étoile cut him off swiftly. "We know already from Stella's testimony that plenty of others from our races are held captive. We don't even know why they're being held, or why they're needed. We can't even gain intel on how many of our people they currently have. We simply will not give them two more!"

  "Maybe Stella is a ticking time bomb! Maybe if we don't hand her over, she'll annihilate us all. We don't know what they did to her!" said the shifter as I mentally wrote him off my Christmas card list. Permanently.

  "So we hand her over for further torture? That's not going to happen. We have security procedures in place should anything happen to Stella." News to me. I would have to ask Étoile just what procedures she meant, but I figured they couldn't be good ones. I didn't know which was worse: that she arranged such procedures already, or the obvious gossip being passed around as to what might have happened to me and what I might do as a result of it. If people were afraid of me here, what good was I to anyone? Even worse, was I safe anymore if they thought I could attack or kill them? Or would I be swiftly thrown out to The Brotherhood?

  "The demon is smart to suggest a ruse," came the disembodied voice. "They want our young witches, and we can understand the desire for the boy, given his bloodline, which is no secret, Étoile, despite what you might think."

  Silence descended over the table.

  "We were prepared for this," said Étoile, ignoring the master vampire. "We knew The Brotherhood were circling their quarry and it was only a matter of time before they attacked. This is an attack. This is a crime against our people and it must be answered in only one way."

  "War," said each Council member, one after the other.

  Étoile nodded. "War."

  Chapter Ten

  I turned the talisman over in my hands, the hum of magic running through me like electricity. Powerful magic must have been imbued in it when it was created, many, many years ago. Already, I could feel the traces of a headache starting to build. I didn'
t think it was because the talisman didn't like me. I doubt it could like or dislike anyone, in contrast to the horologican, which never hesitated to make its pleasure or displeasure known. The magic was simply powerful and insistent, which put me a little on edge. Now I remembered why I was so keen for Gage to hide it in the first place.

  I ran my hands over the surface, looking for clues, hoping it would reveal something about the superwitch, or the power it contained. On each of the four sides, it seemed to tell a story, depicting the stages of the moon as I turned it around. Below the moons were other carvings that covered its surface. Even without knowing it was important, I could instantly appreciate its beauty.

  "So?" prompted Gage. "What are you going to do with it?"

  I glanced up, glad for the reprieve from staring at the carvings. "Nothing," I said tersely.

  His brows knitted together like he wasn't sure whether to believe me or not. "I ran all that way on four legs through the night for you to do nothing with it?"

  "Okay, at the moment, I don't plan on doing anything, but I think it could be useful in this war."

  "You think? Or Étoile thinks?"

  "Both of us."

  "And what does she expect it to do?"

  "Save us all."

  "Sounds good to me," said Gage, clapping his hands together in a gesture of support. His face turned serious. "You had better tell me the rest of it. If it gets out that I gave you that talisman, it won’t be good for me. I'd rather have all the information I need in advance; after everything that's happened to us, I’m sure that day will come."

  I had to agree with him. If I found the other talismans, the day when my secret endeavour would be revealed would arrive very soon. I just hoped it neatly coincided with finding the elusive superwitch, who would hopefully reveal the bravery inside her, and the magic, by uniting the talismans and defeating The Brotherhood. At least, we weren't asking too much, I thought with a wry smile. "There's a prophecy in an old book written by a clairvoyant. It talks about The Brotherhood's demise and claims a superwitch is supposed to incite it," I explained, sticking to the bare basics. He didn't need to know how the star sisters were involved. Besides, we already discounted that theory with Étoile's test.