by Gina LaManna
“Nope,” Ainsley quipped just a little too quickly. “Fine. Maybe.”
Nevada looked gobsmacked. “But that’s supposed to go down to the Dismemberment Committee.”
“It’ll get down there. But they couldn’t transport it until this afternoon, so...” She shrugged. “We sampled it. It’s research, Nevada. We have to know what types of video games are hot on the market these days. Otherwise, how can we confiscate them?”
Nevada’s eyebrows cinched together, as if debating the pros and cons of believing her boss. “I thought it was declared dangerous?”
“It’s mostly dangerous to humans.” Ainsley neatly evaded the question. “Anyway, we have more important business at hand. Nevada, next time Lily arrives, bring her straight to my office—do you understand?”
Nevada nodded dumbly.
“Great. Now, how about you call Dismemberment and tell them to come grab the computer? I need a little time with our Mixologist here. I’m so glad the two of you met.”
“The Mix...” Nevada stuttered. “Lily L-L-Locke.”
“Who’d you think she was?” Ainsley’s eyes landed on Nevada. “There’s only one Mixologist in our universe.”
“I didn’t...I-I’m sorry, Miss Locke, you’ll have to forgive me.”
“Nothing to forgive,” I said quickly. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you. Can Ainsley and I have a minute?”
“I assume this is confidential.” Ainsley took me by the arm and marched me down the hallway, leaving behind a speechless Nevada. “I know just the place to talk. By the way, sorry about my assistant.”
“Why? She was fine.”
Ainsley rolled her eyes. “She’s new, and she thinks she runs the world. She probably gave you the excuse I was too busy to talk, or whatever. For some reason, she loves me—she imagines I fart glitter and rainbows. Not a clue what gave her that idea.”
I laughed, pleased to be reunited with my friend. Ainsley knew how to lighten up a room, and that was exactly what I needed. We continued pleasant small talk for a few minutes as we wound through the magnificent building located in the middle of the Twin Cities. The lower half was disguised as a bank, while the upper floors were rendered invisible to human eyes by a series of complex magical spells and charms and hexes.
“You seem a little blue,” Ainsley ventured once we reached a huge glass doorway that seemed to open into the center of the building. “What’s eating you, boss?”
I sighed. “Are we okay to talk here?”
Ainsley grinned. “This is the best place in the entire building to talk. You could admit to murder and there’s not a thing we could do about it.”
I squinted around us as she pushed the door open and we stepped through it. I gasped as we did so, not having expected to step into a whole new world. Behind us, we’d left a mess of corporate hallways, sharp corners, clean to the point of dull fixtures with nary a comforting painting to spice up the walls.
Before us sat a roomful of life.
It was like we’d stepped into an exotic conservatory of the magical variety. A mix of rainforest and greenhouse.
Shaggy moss hung from limbs in every direction, and thick stalks of greenery protruded from the dirt beneath our feet. Glistening leaves as big as an elephant’s ear waved in the light breeze, though I couldn’t for the life of me find an exit to the outdoors.
“Magic,” Ainsley said with a smile. “Don’t forget, Lily, my dear—you’re a witch.”
I grinned back, soaking in the musty smell of dirt, the click of Ainsley’s heels on the unevenly laid stones. The path wound through the jungle-like greenhouse, the air thick with humidity and heavy with quiet.
Save for the sounds—sounds I hadn’t noticed until I truly listened. The slight rustle of leaves, a heavier clomp here or there. The crack of a stick and a buzz—an unending buzz that began to give me a headache if I concentrated on it too hard.
“You noticed,” Ainsley said, pleased. “The jitterbirds.”
“The what?”
“Jitterbirds. There, see? It’s got a silver feather through the tail.”
I found the bird, a crow-like thing except smaller, much smaller and thinner. Sure enough, there was one long silver feather protruding from its behind.
Ainsley waved a hand, and I moved my gaze to follow her gesture. Sure enough, once I truly looked, they were everywhere. Five of them sat on the branch just above my head, and a few hopped along the path next to my feet. Three more jitterbirds fluttered their wings on a nearby leaf the size of a small boat.
“They make this place work,” Ainsley said, happily whistling a tune as we moved along. “This is the largest population of jitterbirds in the entire world.”
“Why—er, do you have a jungle in the middle of your office building?”
“Fresh air,” Ainsley said with a wink. “That, and these jitterbirds block out sound up to twenty yards away for anyone to whom it’s not intended.”
“But I can hear you.”
“I haven’t induced the confidentiality bit of it yet. Here, I’ll invoke the charm and show you how it works. You’re going to love it.” Ainsley put a hand on my shoulder, spun me to face her, and looked into my eyes with a bright smile. “Lily Locke, listen to me.”
I nodded, not understanding. Ainsley gestured for me to repeat her phrase.
“Lily Locke—” I began.
“No, it’s like a repeat-after-me, but you say my name. I’ll restart. Lily Locke, listen to me. The sound of the jitterbirds sets us free.”
“Okay,” I said. “Er, Ainsley Shaw, listen to me. The sound of jitterbirds sets us free.”
At once, it was as if we were in a tunnel. Just the two of us, deep under water. Nothing about the outside world changed except for the ringing of intense silence now in my ears.
When Ainsley spoke, it was crystal clear. Dainty. As if I could hear nuances in her voice that I’d never heard before, never knew existed.
“Neat, huh?” she said, and it was as if she’d pounded a drum. “It takes a second to get used to.”
I nodded, listening to the reverb of her question bounce around my skull for ages longer than normal. It was as if all other sounds had been vacuumed away. Even my own breath sounded like someone banging a gong.
“This is how sound really works. You know, when it’s not diluted by everything else,” she explained. “Nobody has a chance in Hades to hear what we’re talking about now. So, if you have any gossip, now’s the time to spill.”
I smiled weakly. “I wish that were the case. I am actually here on a quest for information.”
“A quest. Fancy. What can I do for you?”
“Have you heard of the Master of Magic?”
Ainsley burst out laughing. When she looked at my face, her laughter morphed into a cough of confusion. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. It’s very important.”
“Oh, well, yes of course. I just figured...” Ainsley held a hand over her mouth, exhaling slowly. “I’m so sorry. It’s easy to forget that you spent so many years being human. I feel like we’ve been friends forever. Plus, you fit into the magical world like you were born to be there. I mean, you were, but you didn’t grow up hearing the tales.”
“So, everyone knows of him? Or her?”
“It’s most definitely a him,” Ainsley corrected. “Every master has been male since the beginning of time. Children born to magical parents, well, we hear the stories. I suppose some might call him a myth, like Santa Claus, but we all know Santa is real.”
“We do?”
“How else do you think the presents get all across the world in one night?” Ainsley shot a me a look that said I was being incredibly thick before continuing. “The Master of Magic is real. We’ve got extensive evidence that points to this being true. I can go more deeply into it, but I’ll wait since I’m guessing you have more to your question.”
“How do I find him?”
Ainsley began another laugh but cut this one short too. “L
ily. You can’t be serious.”
“Deadly serious.”
“Thank goodness for the jitterbirds,” she said, tugging a hand through her hair. “I’m not sure anyone else would believe this even if they did hear it. Lily, it’s a death sentence to look for the Master of Magic. Many have tried, none have succeeded.”
“None that you know of maybe, but surely someone has found him?”
“Like you said—none that I know of.” Ainsley’s brows knitted together. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”
I nodded, then sighed. “I wish I weren’t. I’ve been sworn to secrecy by my source, but I have information that suggests the Master of Magic is The Faction’s next target.”
Instead of laughing, Ainsley’s face drained of blood, her dark hair framing cheeks where slight freckles visibly popped. “That can’t be.”
“I don’t think they’ve found him yet, but—”
“Then they won’t.” A bit of confidence returned to her step. “It’s impossible to locate him just because one wants to.”
“What if it’s not? Is it worth the danger of writing this off as an impossibility?”
Ainsley sighed. “No, I suppose not. Have you heard about the last time he was injured?”
I frowned and shook my head.
“Researchers have said,” Ainsley said, her tones hushed despite the protection from the jitterbirds, “that the last time the Master of Magic was hurt, World War II broke out. Obviously, the consequences were devastating to recover from. The world still isn’t fully recovered.”
“But—”
“You must understand, Lily, that this is a huge theory you’re suggesting. If the Master of Magic were attacked, it wouldn’t only be the end of the magical world, it would be...it would be a global disaster.”
“How was he hurt last time?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I just know the story. He was unable to tend to the laws of magic, and the world just about fell off its axis. It was a disaster, Lily—millions of innocent people died.”
“Most of them humans, I’m willing to bet,” I said grimly. “No wonder The Faction has their sights set on the Master. It’d be one of the quickest ways to wipe out the non-paranormals. The Faction wouldn’t even have to do anything; if the laws of the universe are off balance, it seems like the humans will take care of the destruction themselves.”
My statement must have rung true to Ainsley because the paleness in her cheeks lightened further, leaving her chalky in color. “What are you planning to do to try and stop them?”
“I have to find him first. I’ll offer my protection, my skills—if there’s a way to help him, I’ll do it.” I could see Ainsley wasn’t yet convinced, so I dove into my bigger plea. “Look, I know this sounds impossible, and maybe it is. But I am sick of waiting around for The Faction’s next move—I’m ready to act first, to take the offense instead of the defense. If you can help me, please, consider it.”
Ainsley gave a short nod of agreement. “I think you need to talk to Millie.”
“Who’s Millie?”
“Millie is...” As Ainsley debated this, she hooked her arm through mine and marched me toward a hidden doorway that loomed behind a splashy waterfall in which jitterbirds played. “Let’s just say she’s a bookworm.”
“How will she be able to help me?”
Ainsley gave the first real smile since I’d told her of my plan. “According to the legends, the Master of Magic is protected by the ancient gods. You want to find the Master? You’ll need to uncover the gods.”
“And Millie...”
“Has read everything on the subject,” she said, leading me to a familiar desk where we proceeded to check out a set of broomsticks. “Let me introduce you to the Library of Greats.”
“You’re coming with me?”
She squished up her face. “We’ll see if they let me in. Last time, I nearly burned the place down. I highly suspect they revoked my library card.”
“Huh.”
“Long story,” she said. “I’ll explain another time.”
And then we were off from the flight deck, sailing through the air toward the only hope we had left.
Chapter 10
MILLIE TURNED OUT TO be a young woman with the most soft-looking brown hair I’d ever seen. She wore round glasses that made her eyes look three times their normal size, and though her expression was mostly pleasant, she frowned at the sight of our broomsticks as she met us at the front door of a very normal looking library.
“Ainsley,” she warned, “what have I told you about riding here on your broomstick?”
“Sorry, sorry.” Ainsley quickly eyed the librarian situated behind the front desk with concern. Then, she leapt with lightning speed to lock up the broomstick in a closet that looked as if it were for coats. “See, it’s actually a human library,” Ainsley whispered to me as I followed suit with my own broom. “I forget we’re not supposed to fly here.”
“You didn’t forget,” Millie chastised. “You know the rules. And anyway, Ainsley, isn’t it a little...soon to be back? The librarians haven’t forgotten your last visit.”
“I wouldn’t be asking you for a favor if it wasn’t important,” Ainsley said, parroting the same logic I’d used on her earlier. “Hear Lily out—that’s all I’m asking.”
Millie turned to look expectantly at me, so I launched into a quiet conversation as we began to stroll through the library. Along the way, Millie waved a few badges at the front desk to check us in, and then she led us upstairs. The entire way, the librarian behind the desk watched us like a hawk.
“Mrs. Flutterbing is not a huge fan of me,” Ainsley said, glancing sideways at Millie. “I’m not getting you in trouble, am I?”
Millie wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “She’s just concerned for the books. You have a talent for...well, you know. Not keeping them in one piece. Ah. Here we are.”
I looked up at the sign to which Millie pointed. It was labeled with the headline: Intestinal Issues and Severe Stomach Struggles.
“Er, actually,” I said. “I was hoping to find books on the Master of Magic.”
“Exactly.” Oblivious to my discomfort, Millie led us down a dead-end aisle, and when I was just about ready to suggest we turn around and leave the intestinal issues far behind, she reached forward and ran her finger down the center of one of the books.
Before our eyes, the shelves split in two. Ainsley glanced behind us again to make sure we were alone to witness the spectacle while I watched with rapt attention. The jam-packed shelves folded in on themselves to reveal an entryway through which Millie stepped without hesitation.
“Come along,” Millie said, her voice leaping with excitement. She glowed the second she stepped through, and it was easy to see she belonged. “Feel free to peruse as you wish.”
I surveyed the most magical expanse of books as I stepped into the cavernous room, overwhelmed by the sight of the utterly secret library. The ceilings were lofted high above the floor with shelving units covering every inch of spare wall. Ladders extending as tall as houses slid along the edges, while various scholars dressed in the traditional Cretan robes sat behind old mahogany desks.
There was no electricity, cell service, or modernity of any sort within the magical library. Instead, lanterns cast flickering glows over the creaky floorboards, leaving long shadows reaching into the belly of the library. Piles upon piles of haphazardly arranged books wobbled in stacks on every surface, creating cozy little caves behind which writers and students studied and scrawled on parchment before them.
I inhaled a shuddering breath, awed and astounded and hopelessly lost. “Um, do you have any suggestions for where to find information to locate the Master of Magic?”
“Sorry, I can’t help you find him,” Millie said again, apologetically. “You’ve come to the wrong person.”
“Why?” Ainsley demanded. “Millie, this is really important.”
“You want to
find the Master of Magic.” Millie’s eyes narrowed at us. “I don’t have that information. It doesn’t exist—nobody has it, and therefore, I cannot help you find him.”
“Any information on him would be helpful,” I said, trying not to sound desperate. “Do you know of any works that reference him, by chance?”
“Ah!” Millie perked up significantly. “Now, that I can do.”
“She’s one of those artsy types,” Ainsley whispered to me as Millie flounced away, running her hand along a variety of manuscripts as she moved, pulling one out here, another there. Her choices appeared random. “I don’t always understand how their brains work.”
“I just hope there’s something here. If not, I’m at a loss for what to do next,” I admitted. “I hate to sit around and wait, but I can’t think of another path forward.”
“Let’s see what Millie brings back.” Ainsley sounded confident. “She’s never let me down yet.”
I had high hopes for the books Millie brought back, and sure enough, she didn’t disappoint.
“Here’s one that briefly references how his magic system is supposed to work.” Millie flipped through a detailed reference book with complex illustrations and loads of colorful images. “It’s a theoretical book since obviously nobody alive has seen his work.”
“That’s the problem,” I murmured. “I don’t know all of this obvious information everyone else seems to have. I didn’t grow up on these stories; I grew up human. I’m learning everything from scratch.”
Millie’s eyes widened. “Fascinating. Tell me about being human. Did you ever come to this library? Who are your preferred non-paranormal authors? Did you read books on magic and wonder if it existed? What’s your favorite form of non-magical travel?”
“Millie.” Ainsley cleared her throat. “I think our friend Lily is on a time crunch.”
“Right, right, of course,” Millie said. “Well, in that case, let me introduce you to this one.”
I accepted the slim, brightly illustrated paperback that nearly crumbled in my hand with age. “What is this one?”
“It’s a children’s story,” Ainsley interrupted, leaning over my shoulder. “My mom read me this one. Masters and Magic. It’s almost like a, oh, I don’t know, a comic book for magic. It’s got his origin story and all that. It’s a story about the man who saved magic as we know it, and how he continues to this day to provide balance in the world. It hints at the destruction that will follow should the balance go awry.”
