by Leah Cutter
Chris stiffened. How had the judge gotten ahold of that paperwork? Denise lived in fucking Oregon. States shouldn’t share information like that. He glanced back at the lawyer for Patricia, his wife—ex-wife. He gave Chris a smug smile.
Smarmy bastard. Probably bribed someone to do his job for him.
“Yes, ma’am,” Chris said. What else could he say?
At least Mama had stayed in Georgia, so she hadn’t had to see her son shamed so.
Chris finally got out of the courthouse. The Texas heat blasted him as soon as he left the air-conditioned building, stepping into the parking garage, the stench of exhaust mingling with the smell of eternal summer. He actually wouldn’t be sorry leaving this place, with its sorry-assed architecture. Nothing grand or inspiring here.
At least he’d found underground parking for his car, though sliding into the seat was still like stepping into a furnace. He drummed his thumbs against the steering wheel as he waiting in line to pay the exorbitant amount the petty man at the gate demanded.
Probably wasn’t even an American.
Chris had been aware that Denise had renewed the restraining order every year. The only way he’d be able to contest it would be to schedule a hearing, which mean driving back out to Oregon.
Involuntarily, Chris checked his backseat. It was empty. No Satanic creature from his nightmares sat back there, gold-red eyes burning in a death’s head, teeth like knife-points, strange clockwork wings spread out like an evil, living machine.
Fresh sweat still broke out across Chris’ back.
Chris wasn’t ever going back to Oregon. Let Denise keep spending money on useless restraining orders.
Except…now that Chris thought about it, Denise’s restraining order was just for her.
The paperwork didn’t mention Dale or Nora.
The twins would be graduating from high school this year. Legally adults. Probably liberal trash like their mother. And Nora—Nora might actually be in league with the devil. Her and that infernal creature he’d seen.
But maybe, just maybe, Dale would have enough experience to know better, now. Would have had his heart broken by enough of these independent women. He might welcome a man’s influence in his life.
A father’s.
And Chris could have a family again.
Besides, if he quit his job, Patricia couldn’t garnish his wages as she’d been threatening. Nor could that witch of a judge.
With a jaunty whistle, Chris steered his car back toward his crappy apartment.
Time to go see the twins.
* * *
Brett carefully held back any sign of anger at Nora’s refusal to even touch the ring he had gotten for her. The warm hearth-fire he generally saw when he looked at her had cooled and drawn back, burning much lower.
“It isn’t an engagement ring,” Brett told Nora again. “Just a promise ring.”
Brett had thought Nora would be charmed. The ring looked like a plain silver band with three simple red stones in it. He’d taken her out to one of her favorite places, on the rocks, overlooking the ocean. Though the sun was out and the sky was blue, the wind blew strong enough that they huddled together for warmth, as he’d planned.
Gulls cried their disappointment from far above them. The rocks lay like bleached bones. Brett found this place depressing, but he understood why Nora liked it: The contrasts between living grass and the dead rocks, the way the sand whirled like it was alive, how the ocean beat its waves on the shore: it was all very dynamic, very alive.
Very much like her.
“Thank you,” Nora said, pushing the ring to the side where she couldn’t even see it anymore.
Brett took the hint, snapped shut the little blue velvet box, and put the ring back in his shirt pocket.
“But I can’t take it,” Nora told him. “It just isn’t right. I’m not going to make any promises to you that I might not be able to keep.”
“It’s just a friendship ring,” Brett said. She had to take the ring. If she didn’t, she’d leave, leave his territory, his control, and he couldn’t have that.
She must be his, and his alone.
Nora shook her head. “No. But thank you.”
“You hate the ring, don’t you,” Brett said, guessing, still trying to figure out the real reason why she was rejecting him. “You want something with a rock as big as your knuckle,” he teased, working hard to stay human and not just force the thing on her. She had to take it willingly, accept his will.
“You said it was your grandfather’s, right? Old Eli?” Nora asked seriously, not paying attention to his bantering.
Brett nodded. “Yeah. You know I can’t afford to buy you the type of ring you’d like, not that you’d accept it from me anyway.” Maybe he could guilt her into taking it. Humans were generally easy to manipulate. He’d always enjoyed that Nora was more difficult than most, though he usually could bend her to his will.
“You’ve never talked that much about your grandfather,” Nora said.
That was unlike Nora. Normally she listened to him. The ring must have really upset her. “Not much to say,” Brett lied. “I didn’t know him very well—only saw him a few times at Christmases and such.”
“He was an odd man,” Nora said, looking out over the ocean. “Very, very odd.”
Brett stilled, trying to hear beyond Nora’s words to the truth of the matter. What did she have against Eli? She didn’t suspect anything, did she?
“He was also very smart. Knew a lot about a lot of things,” Nora said. “But I won’t touch anything of his,” she added, glancing at Brett.
“Because he was odd?” Brett asked, confused. What did odd matter? Nora called herself odd sometimes, using the word as a badge of honor. He’d never understand humans.
“Exactly,” Nora said, wrapping her arms around her chest tightly.
Brett wrapped his own arms around Nora, hooking his chin on her shoulder, trying to warm her up, knowing he’d have to find another way to win her, to get her to wear the ring. She wouldn’t take it with her, not at this time. Eventually, though, she would. And it would wear at her will, even without direct contact.
How much did Nora know about Eli? About him? How much had the Maker seen? Brett had never even guessed that she’d been suspicious of old Eli. She’d always been so polite around him, when Brett was still wearing that skin.
Maybe Brett should have kept the Eli persona around for another year or so. Not faked his own death so soon. But he’d needed time to bring his Brett personality along, to get Nora to trust him. She had more will than most humans. He’d welcomed the challenge, originally.
Too late now for regrets, now.
“Let’s get you home,” Brett suggested, breathing warm air along Nora’s neck, getting her to turn and look at him.
“We could stay for a short while,” Nora said, giving him a flirtatious smile.
“We could at that,” Brett said, accepting the kiss she gave him, all the while thinking about how to bind her to him. How to get her to take the ring.
He had very little time left before his mating cycle was over, before he’d have to give up the power Nora might impart to his children. What a mother she would make to them, if she survived the childbirth.
* * *
Nora drove back home silently, as usual. Though Dale complained about never being able to turn on the radio when she drove, she hadn’t bothered explaining that there were too many paths sometimes, or about the sheets floating in the air. He’d have called her crazy and never gotten back in the car with her.
Sometimes, Nora wondered if the magic she’d discovered did make her crazy.
Though Dale would have corrected her, and just say “er”–as in “crazier.”
That made Nora smile.
Dale didn’t have any magic, beyond being a Tinker and able to fix just about anything mechanical. Nora still didn’t understand why he didn’t want to work with Brett at the garage all summer. It would have been perfect for
him.
Then again, Dale didn’t seem to have much of an opinion about Brett. Her twin was carefully neutral, at least to Nora, about her boyfriend. Mom liked him, but Dale wouldn’t commit one way or the other. The best Nora could get out of him was a “He’s okay.”
Did Dale still not trust his own judgment, after he’d been so mistaken about the fairies? They’d enspelled him, but he hadn’t forgiven himself, not really.
Whereas Nora had been wrong about Kostya, wrong about their dad, Chris, and it didn’t matter much.
However, was Nora wrong about Brett? Wanting to give her a ring from old Eli? She shook her head. No, he just didn’t know, couldn’t see, not like she could. Brett was plain and old-fashioned and a complete mundane.
The ring Brett had tried to give her wasn’t magic, or at least it didn’t glow like the fairy magic did. But there was something off about it. Something slippery. Something that made her not want to even touch it.
Nora ground her teeth in frustration. No teacher had ever appeared to her, to train her in magic. The arcane books she’d read were mostly wrong and couldn’t help. She did the best she could, but she felt she was blindly groping in the dark.
If only Nora could see better, if only she knew more about magic. Then she would have been able to tell what the magic in that ring had been, if it would have been safe to wear it or not.
Right now, all she could do was refuse to touch it, to touch anything magical.
How was she ever going to learn, though?
One of the pale gray sheets floating in the air flashed, disintegrating. Nora shook her head. She’d made Dale tie a rope around her before she’d tried walking through one—it had left her shivering and cold to her bones, as if it had just snowed on her grave.
From the right angle, Nora could see into the sheets: The world looked almost the same on the other side. But only almost. It was like the world was set at a different angle.
How could she go through one? Was it safe? Whom could she ask? She’d never even seen sheets like these mentioned in any book about magic or arcana, though she’d seen them in a couple of surrealistic paintings by artists who were no longer alive.
Nora sighed as she parked the truck in the driveway. At least most of the sheets had disintegrated around her house, so she didn’t have to worry about accidentally going through one. But why had they disappeared? Was that a good thing? Or bad?
The solid, brown, one-story rambler seemed to wait patiently for Nora as she slid out of her truck. She’d always liked this place, particularly once they’d fixed the fairy magic problem, and the electricity stopped going out all the time. She was going to miss it when she left for college.
Hell, she was going to miss everything. Even Brett. Particularly Brett. She wouldn’t promise him anything, though she knew she’d already given him her heart.
Nora squared her shoulders. The sky was just beginning to darken, the sun lowering in the west. Ocean winds swirled up and around Nora. She was going to have to go tell her mother…something.
At least now, Nora could justify giving her mother a protection bracelet that let her see.
With that decision reached, Nora continued walking up the driveway to the house. She paused at the door, looking back out over the empty field across from the house, suddenly twisting her bracelet. Was something out there, staring back at her?
Nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary. Nora was going to have to talk with Brett again about mowing that field. That grass was getting too tall again: Too easy for a hidden, unfriendly something to watch the house.
Nora finally turned and entered the house, unsettled. Kostya knew better than to come and bother her family, didn’t he?
* * *
“What is this?” Denise asked Nora as she handed her one of her knotted bracelets. It was one of her prettier ones, with a roaming design that skirted the edges then met in the middle, forming odd triangles, done in yellow, black, and brown string. She stayed seated in the large chair in the living room, where Nora had insisted she stay, like a spectator of some play the kids would put on, as they had as children.
Denise had assured Nora more than once that it was fine, she didn’t feel left out by not having the exact same type of bracelets that she and Dale wore. Why was her daughter giving her one now?
“We promised to tell you enough to protect you,” Nora said, her chin still stiffly obstinate. “Part of that means that you have to actually wear protection as well.”
Denise took the offered bracelet. It felt normal enough. She traced her fingers over the pattern. There wasn’t anything she could see that was out of the ordinary. She brought it up to her nose to smell, but all she could scent was cotton and wool. “How is this supposed to protect me?”
Nora looked over her shoulder at Dale, who shrugged. “Won’t know until she puts it on.” He sat on the edge of the gray couch, his hands tightly folded together, as if he wanted to grab hold of his tools and fix something, though there was nothing to fix.
“Please, Mom, let me put it on you,” Nora said, dropping gracefully to her knees next to Denise’s chair.
“All right,” Denise said, holding out her right wrist.
Nora hesitated. “Normally, I would tie it around that wrist.” She held up her own hands.
Though Nora wore her knotwork bracelets around both wrists, Denise noticed that Nora had twice as many around her right.
“But I think—I think I’d rather put this on your left wrist. Closer to your heart,” Nora continued.
Denise couldn’t help but stiffen. “I’m fine, you know.” She’d felt good all day. Stronger than usual, to tell the truth. She couldn’t remember why she’d fallen that morning. Maybe she’d just gotten out of her chair too quickly.
“Don’t care,” Nora said, back to being stubborn.
“Fine,” Denise said, holding out her left wrist.
Nora tied the strings together, making three intricate knots, then clipped the ends professionally.
Denise held her breath and looked up, around the living room. Nothing changed. The world didn’t suddenly shift, as Denise had been afraid it might. She twisted the bracelet around her wrist. It was remarkably smooth. “I don’t see why you won’t try to sell these at one of the local craft stores,” she told Nora. The work really was remarkable.
Nora made another face. “Can’t. Well, not these. And I just…can’t, Mom.” Nora glanced at Dale for support. There was something more there, but Denise had never been able to get to the bottom of it.
Dale shrugged. “Anything different?” he asked. He still sat very stiffly, as if holding himself back from jumping up and doing something.
Denise looked carefully around the room. “No?”
Dale nodded to Nora, who wrapped her fingers around Denise’s wrist, closing them around the bracelet. “Now?” Nora asked.
Different spots around the living room flared suddenly, as if hidden lights had been turned on. The back of the couch, where Nora’s afghan lay, was brighter. The macramé owl decorating the wall shone, as did the corners of the windows.
Denise looked closer. For the first time, she noticed that there were little bits of knotwork attached to every corner of both windows. The bracelet Dale wore glowed brilliantly, and Nora herself looked as if she stood in the full sunlight.
“What does all that light mean?” Denise asked. Other bits of knotwork lay tucked away, on the bookshelves, over the door going out, as well as the door leading into the hallway. “Why is all your knotwork glowing?”
Nora shrugged as she removed her hand. “It means we’re protected. From the fairies. And other magical creatures.”
Fairies? Oh, right. That strange creature from that morning. “Why do we need protection from them?” Denise asked, puzzled. He’d seemed perfectly harmless, though a bit ugly.
“Fairies aren’t human, Mom,” Nora said. “They can’t be trusted. They’re mercurial, their emotions changing rapidly. You can’t trust them to keep th
eir word.” Nora sighed, then continued. “They want Dale to work with them, to repair the clockwork in their kingdom. And they want me as well.”
“What do they want you for?” Denise asked, suspecting the answer but wanting to hear it from her daughter.
“For my magic,” Nora whispered.
Nora stiffened when her mother laughed, as she’d known she would. She tried to be generous and call it nervous laughter. She knew that was part of it, the way the pitch of her mother’s laughter rose. The living room still suddenly felt much colder. Night pressed in harder from outside, dark and black.
“There’s no such thing as magic,” her mother scoffed.
Nora nodded, wrapping her arms across her chest. Why hadn’t she put on a sweater over her T? She knew that her mom would deny it. Mom lived in a world that was all about bills and responsibility and while there was fun, there was mostly work.
Magic was fancy, something her mom wasn’t.
“Mom,” Dale warned.
That at least made the world a little warmer, that her twin was still on her side. “It’s okay, Dale. I knew she wouldn’t believe me. Not at first.”
Dale’s wide eyes were very gratifying to Nora. “You’re going to show her?”
Nora shrugged. Only if Mom believed, really believed in magic, would she also believe in the other creatures who haunted the world, who could hurt her.
“What are you going to transform?” Dale asked, coming over from the couch. “Anything I can help with?”
Nora smiled. At least Dale thought her magic was cool. Nora was never sure if it was more of a blessing or a curse.
“Transform?” Mom asked.
“There are three types of magic that humans access,” Nora said, remembering Kostya’s lecture from so long ago. “The most common are those who deal with the past—”
“Ghost Herders,” Dale helpfully piped in.
