The Fae's Amulet

by J F Posthumus

  “He was a werebear,” Jade said as we closed the distance to the shattered entrance. “He knocked away my axe. I grabbed him by his foot and smashed him into everything I could.”

  I hazarded a guess. “Would that include one or more of the supporting beams in the ceiling?

  “Yes, most of them, actually. We should hurry,” she replied.

  Once we cleared the building, Althea stepped away from us and fell to her knees. After coughing and wheezing for ten long seconds, she got groggily to her feet.

  Before I could ask if she was all right, half the house, mostly the part we’d been in, collapsed. It made even more racket than our adventures inside.

  I looked across the street and saw lights coming on in the firehouse. The smell of natural gas permeated my nostrils, and there was little reason to doubt it was coming from the broken house.

  “Time to go,” I said.

  Jade held out her hand, so we could be in physical contact to teleport.

  “Not yet,” Althea gasped.

  She moved closer to Jade and detached the shoulder strap from the military rifle Jade had brought, but not used.

  Without hesitation, she shouldered the weapon and fired the grenade launcher. The small cylinder arched smoothly into the remains of the house. Without a word, she pivoted and put her arm on my shoulder.

  There was no reason to wait, so I teleported us back to Althea’s home.

  The grenade went off just as we were vanishing, igniting the leaking gas, and transforming the remains into burning ruins.

  * * *

  Our escapade didn’t quite end with returning Althea home.

  The moment we landed in Althea’s living room, she collapsed to her knees, doubled over, and began to dry heave.

  Jade and I exchanged grim expressions. Jade lifted a brow, I rolled my eyes and nodded. My compatriot-in-arms slid her axe into the scabbard on her back and picked up the still-heaving fae.

  I led the way to her basement, figuring that would be the best solution.

  By the time we reached the bottom of the basement steps, Althea was sliding in and out of unconsciousness. Jade placed her carefully on a bed of moss at the base of the tree.

  Althea opened her eyes slightly and coughed.

  “Thank you,” she said, barely above a whisper.

  Two seconds later, her eyes closed, and her head lolled to the side. Three seconds after that, we heard steps on the stairs.

  Jade and I turned at the same time. Jade drew her axe, and I readied a throwing dagger with my right hand. I had a spell ready to hurl with my left.

  Imagine our surprise when Sterling appeared. His eyes were narrow, and there was no smile or pleasant expression on his face.

  I lowered my hands, tucking the dagger away. Jade lowered her blade, but she didn’t put it away.

  “Healing slumber?” Sterling asked, his voice cold and hard.

  “Yes,” I said, nodding toward Althea.

  Jade muttered one word. “Fuck.”

  “Yep,” I murmured back.

  A healing sleep meant she wouldn’t be conscious, let alone helpful, for days, possibly a week. The grimoire hadn’t been in the house. It had a specific energy to it, and if it had been there, I would have felt it.

  “Your escapade is breaking news.” Sterling did not sound happy.

  “Jade and I didn’t cause the explosion. That was Althea,” I stated. He narrowed his eyes further, and I shrugged. “Ask her when she wakes. Nothing we did broke any of our laws.”

  Sterling opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. I had him, and he knew it.

  “I’ll arrange protection for her,” he snapped.

  Then he was gone. Jade and I looked at each other and shrugged.

  “Shall we go clean up and wait for him to return with her guards?” I asked.

  Jade nodded. As we headed up the stairs, she draped an arm over my shoulders. “Think we can charge the Council for our services?”

  “I think we should send them a bill, including the cost of the takeout we’re going to be ordering,” I replied.

  Jade laughed.

  We each headed for separate bathrooms after dropping our clothes into Althea’s washer. She could complain later.

  If she dared.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Twenty

  Friday

  My alarm woke me at an ungodly hour. The sun had not even begun peeking over the horizon as I trudged into the kitchen for a quick breakfast of a donut and hot tea.

  Sterling hadn’t stayed over the previous night, which worked for what I had planned. I doubted he’d approve of what I was going to do, but I was beyond frustrated with how my week was going.

  After washing the sticky remnants of the glazed, custard-filled donut off my hands, I headed for my basement, tea in hand.

  Maekyl blinked blearily as I set my mug on the table and carried him into my vast library.

  “What are you doing up so early?” he grumbled.

  “I’m tired of running around in circles trying to find that amulet and grimoire.” I set the skull on one of the end tables and walked toward the bookshelf in the south-eastern corner. “I’m going to do what I should have done when Sterling walked in my office, declaring the amulet was stolen.”

  “It’s about time!” Maekyl exclaimed excitedly. “Bottom shelf, third book on the right. It’s got what you want in it.”

  I pulled the tome off the shelf with a grunt. It was the size of a binder and the thickness of three encyclopedias combined into one. The leather was ancient and smelled faintly of blood. The edges of the papers were burnt umber, dusty with age and lack of use. I could feel the dark Magick leaking from the pages.

  I lugged the book into my workroom and hefted it onto the counter. Maekyl’s skull floated behind me. I probably should have carried the skull and levitated the book, but it was too late now.

  “If you really want to make the most of the spells, you should take a shot of the locating potion. The dragon’s blood will increase the potency of any spell you cast. The result will be far better than if you don’t use it.” Maekyl’s voice was low and thrumming as he spoke, reminding me of what he had been.

  I turned slightly so I could see him as he watched me with burning red eyes. “Spells? You have more than one that would work? Or are you thinking the usual trifecta? One for location, one for defense, and one for offense?”

  “If you’re going up against someone gorged on dragon’s blood or the equivalent, you’ll need something else. I have several useful suggestions.” He paused and sighed. The sound reminded me of crashing boulders and thunder. “Such a pity you didn’t keep the—”

  “Shut up,” I snapped. “If I’m doing this, I don’t need a reminder.”

  His red eyes twinkled. “Don’t you mean encouragement? You were glorious, my dear. You could easily begin anew, starting with the amulet.”

  How tempting that was. I walked to the cabinet I kept the potion in and removed the bottle.

  “Go with the tall,” Maekyl encouraged.

  I hesitated a second before grabbing a tall shot glass. Filling it to the brim, I tossed it back before setting the bottle and glass on the counter.

  The potion burned going down my throat. Good and strong, it left a dark aftertaste. I felt it hit my stomach then blossom out. The dragon’s blood unfurled, sending power through my blood. The alcohol and other ingredients diluted it, so it wasn’t slamming into my senses all at once, but I felt the steady flow.

  My fingers tingled as the Magick built within me. I turned towards Maekyl, and the shadow of his former self peered out from the skull.

  “The first spell is on Page 87,” Maekyl said, a smile curling his lips. I could easily see the ghostly form of a mouth full of sharp teeth smiling gleefully over the physical reality of the skull. “I’ll list out the ingredients, then the pages for the rest, after you complete that spell.”

  The tome opened with a soft rustle. The pages were as soft and pliab
le as cloth, in contrast to the hard, tooled-leather binding. Considering the pages were made from human skin, it wasn’t surprising. The ink was made of blood and Magick.

  Turning to the required page, I skimmed over the spell. It was a simple spell of protection from harm. I thought it was a waste of dragon’s blood, but I figured Maekyl had his reasons for starting with that one.

  I grabbed a charcoal pencil and drew the required rune on my left wrist, imbuing it with droplets of Magick. The charcoal was cool against my skin as I read the spell’s words from the tome. The rune heated up until it was just shy of burning, flaring red before turning into the pale white of a long-faded scar.

  “Impressive,” I murmured.

  Maekyl sniffed. “Not really. You’ve always had better control of dragon’s blood than most mortals or fae. It’s always made me question your mother’s heritage.”

  “Next spell?” I asked, turning eagerly back to the tome.

  “Now, for the good stuff,” Maekyl said gleefully. “Begin with Page 197. It—”

  “Catherine? What are you doing?” Sterling asked.

  I turned to look at him, and it was rather obvious he had other things he wanted to say.

  “I’m tired of running around, looking like a fool,” I said. “It’s time to take a proactive lead and change the rules.”

  “That isn’t a wise idea,” Sterling said, crossing to me. He glanced at my tome, then did a double-take. “Where did you get this?”

  “I’ve had it for a long time,” I replied curtly. “And I’ll be fine. I’m far more mature than I was, and I can handle the spells and Magick. It won’t lead me down the same path I took centuries ago.”

  Maekyl coughed, and it sounded like he was trying not to laugh. The jerk.

  “You may be older and more aware, but the Magick in this book is beyond tempting. It slowly coerces the user to delve deeper into the Black Arts, to use more and desire everything.” Sterling closed the book with a loud thud. “There are other methods.”

  “No.” My voice sounded determined, leaving no room for argument.

  Sterling sighed and shrugged, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he moved closer, until he was mere inches from me. I stared into his eyes, my lips parting slightly as he caressed my cheek before cupping my face. He leaned forward and kissed me gently, tenderly.

  There was something different about this kiss. It was soft and gentle, but it made my stomach flutter and my pulse race faster.

  He slid his free hand around my waist and the one on my face to my back. He pulled me closer, lifting me slightly, until I fit perfectly against him.

  He broke the kiss slowly, and I saw passion and desire burning in his eyes. There was no smugness or smirk on his face.

  Blinking at him, I found myself feeling odd. I wanted him, but I was also nervous and excited, apprehensive about what was to come.

  “Hello?” Maekyl called. “Remember me? The amulet? The tome, Aunryzn Faerxol?”

  “It can wait,” Sterling said, his voice deep and rough. It did all sorts of things to my libido.

  “Later,” I agreed. “Much later.”

  Sterling turned, taking my hands in his, and led me from the basement.

  “Xantos would have made certain you stayed with this,” Maekyl muttered grumpily. “I need to learn his methods better.”

  “Yeah, right. Whatever,” I said dismissively.

  Whatever I was feeling, I could examine later and blame on the dragon’s blood. Until ‘later’ came, I was going to enjoy whatever Sterling had planned.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Saturday

  Friday had been amazing, and I had loved every minute. Sterling had done a spectacular job of distracting me. Now, though, it was time to put an end to this business, so I could find out if he was interested in me or merely the job.

  That meant I needed time away from him. Sterling, however, had no interest in leaving. If he stayed, there was no way in all the Hells I’d be able to use any of the better spells.

  I needed help, and there was only one person I could think of who could give it.

  Telepathy was a simple spell and, thankfully, it didn’t require me to do anything that would make noise or wake my lover who was sound asleep beside me.

  “Do you think Xantos would be willing to provide a distraction to lure Sterling away, so I can tend to business?” I asked Maekyl silently.

  His chuckle filled my head. “I believe something can be arranged. Let me see what I can do.”

  “Thanks, Maekyl,” I replied, forcing the smile off my face.

  His chuckle sounded again, growing faint as I dismissed the spell. I could always rely on Maekyl to help me get into trouble and mischief.

  This was trouble, in my opinion, but it would be worth it. I hoped.

  As I drifted off to sleep again, Sterling sat up suddenly. His eyes had a distant look, as though they were focused somewhere else.

  I blinked a few times, my brows furrowing.

  “I have to go,” he said bluntly as he rolled from the bed.

  “Must you?” I asked with a pout.

  He gave me a small smile. “Unfortunately, yes. Have fun tonight with your friend. I’ll see you soon.”

  Leaning over, he gave me a kiss that left me feeling a little guilty about what I’d done and what I was going to do.

  “Until later,” I murmured, dropping back on my pillow.

  Sterling kissed my temple, eliciting a smile from me, before he departed. I was a bit disappointed by and greatly impressed with how quickly the distraction occurred.

  Once I could no longer hear the purr of Sterling’s Stingray, I left the warmth of my bed. Grabbing my black, silk gown and the matching robe, I hurried to my basement.

  “Thanks, Maekyl,” I said as I flipped the tome open.

  “I live to serve, lady,” he said mockingly. His teeth clacked together as he chuckled.

  After rolling my eyes, I skimmed the pages as I flipped carefully through them. It didn’t take long for me to get to the right page.

  “It’s written in draconic,” I said accusingly.

  Maekyl smirked as much as a skull could. “Then it’s a good thing I’m a dragon.”

  “It’s a good thing I can read it,” I retorted in the same droll tone he had used. Maekyl snorted. “Did you write this or Xantos?”

  “Me,” he retorted. “Do you wish to know whose blood I used?”

  “Not really,” I replied. Turning to the skull, I changed the topic back to the task at hand. “Do you think I should take another shot of the potion? It hasn’t been useful yet.”

  “Just take a capsule,” Maekyl replied thoughtfully. “The potion should still be effective for another twelve hours. I gave you the stronger version, since I didn’t trust Sterling not to interfere.”

  “You could have warned me.”

  Maekyl laughed. “It’s been too entertaining watching you open up and remember how to live.”

  Sighing, I shut up and grabbed one of the capsules of dragon’s blood from the fridge. I popped it into my mouth and chased it with a shot of gin.

  “What spells are we doing, Maekyl?” I asked, my hand roving over the open page.

  Maybe Sterling was right. Maybe this book beckoned and coerced anyone who read it, let alone used the spells from it. Considering I had used it frequently during my heyday, I couldn’t really say he was wrong.

  “The one for locating the amulet, obviously.” Maekyl paused. With the dragon’s blood once again coursing through my veins, I could see him blowing puffs of smoke into the air. He met my gaze and winked. “If you had a suitable sacrifice, we could create any number of items that would be useful.”

  “No.”

  The leiche sighed dramatically. “Very well. I suppose that only leaves the more boring spells.”

  “Let’s start with the locator spell. Then we can worry about other offensive spells once I know where the amulet is located.”

/>   Maekyl thought for a moment, then nodded once. “At least you’re starting to think more like my beloved lady of yesteryear.”

  “If you don’t shut up, I’m going to remind you that I don’t need my father to throw you into a volcano,” I stated pleasantly. “The spell, Maekyl.”

  Grumbling in German under his breath, Maekyl hissed for a long minute before giving in to my demand. With obvious disdain and unhappiness in his voice, he listed off all the required materials for the spell.

  Using the tome, I created the needed rune on the floor by copying what was on the pages. It was slow, tedious work. By the time I finished, I had tossed my robe haphazardly across the room, my knees hurt from the floor, my fingers ached from holding the chalk, and my shoulders hurt from being hunched over for more than an hour.

  Whole runes were never drawn on anything, unless you wanted them to be used. They were divided up into neat little sections, sometimes only broken apart by a hair’s width. If you wanted to use a rune, it had to be drawn perfectly. Any blemishes could cause a variety of problems, from the rune not working to turning anything near it into dust. It depended on the rune’s purpose.

  After stretching, I unfolded a map of the surrounding area and carefully weighted it down in the center of the rune with heavy crystals.

  A circle sat off to the side of the map with a single line connecting it to the rune. Retrieving my robe, I slid it back on before taking my place within the circle.

  Closing my eyes, I visualized the page with the written spell and began reciting it.

  Draconic is a harsh language that hurts the throat. It sounds like a mix of throaty growling, screeching like a pterodactyl, and the throat-ripping style of grunge metal, without music.

  Magick filled the room. It was thick, dense, and nearly overwhelming. I could feel it pushing at the edge of my circle, trying to break through to envelope me. There was a reason summoning circles were used. To not use one was to allow yourself to be drowned or smothered, depending on the spell, by the power of the Magick.