The Uncanny Raven Winston

by Tammie Painter

  "Sorry about that. Rafi oversees some of the historic collection and he was eager to tell me about a hoard of Viking treasures they recently found just beyond the walls."

  I made a noise in my throat to show I was listening. Listening, but not caring. He caught the hint and some of the air fell from his sails of nerdy excitement.

  "I said I was sorry," he said, glancing through his lashes in that way that could almost make me forget all the doubts that kept a lock on my heart. A lock that was slowly loosening with every interaction. He darted a glance over both shoulders. "Look, I think I might have something. It’s not anything about the night your parents went missing, but I think it gets us a little closer."

  If you knew how much control it took for me not to say I knew he’d been in the file room, that I had detected his scent on the drawer where my parents’ file should have been, you would march yourself to Olivia’s office and say, "See, Cassie Black does know self-control. Stop being so hard on her and making her do stupid tasks. Moving wooden horses, indeed. What use is that for anyone?"

  Instead, I played it cool by asking, "Did you find a file on my parents somewhere?"

  "No, not a file, but there were some photos. We should have time tonight if you want to look over them."

  Before I could agree — and I felt a very enthusiastic agreement at the top of my throat — Chester thudded up to us.

  "Sirs, I’m supposed to tell you Alastair has to go to his room. Or you have to go to your room," he said, turning to me.

  "What do you mean?" I asked. "Which of us has to go?"

  "One of you. You’re not supposed to be together. I was told to tell you that. You have to stay apart from each other until it’s allowed."

  "Chester," said Alastair, "you’re making no sense."

  "I know. I’m sorry." Chester scratched his head and scrunched up one side of his face as if that might help him remember. Then Rafi strolled up, moving with a gracefully smooth gait. He did have striking features. Maybe he’d once been a model. Did the Magics have fashion shows?

  "Did you tell them, Chester?"

  "I tried. I got confused. But I did get three rats this morning."

  We all muttered vague sounds of admiration at this feat. Then Alastair asked, "What’s this about, Rafi?"

  "There’s some talk going on about Cassie’s trouble this morning, and something about a hole in your door, Alastair." Did you hear that? That was my stomach plummeting straight through the bedrock and into the River Thames. "I’m not sure what they’re planning, but you might be involved, so they want to keep you two separated until everything can be sorted out."

  "But we had plans," I said. Alastair grinned at the disappointment in my voice.

  "They’ll have to wait. Look," Rafi said to me, "they don’t really want you wandering. You’re supposed to go to Olivia’s office, then I guess just stay in your room until tomorrow."

  "Why can’t this be settled today?" Alastair asked. "She’s done nothing wrong. A few things got knocked over. Nothing was damaged."

  "There was an ear," I offered, pleased that he was sticking up for me when it seemed like everyone else wanted to make a mountain out of a horse turd.

  Alastair laughed. "See, an ear. Wait, from one of the horses, not from a living human, right?" I glared at him, letting him know he was not funny.

  "I’m just the messenger," Rafi said apologetically. "Olivia seems angry, but if I’m being honest, it doesn’t seem like she’s angry at you, Cassie. Just go along with it. It’s one night. I’m sure by tomorrow you two will be able to do whatever it was you were planning."

  His rakish smirk sent heat into my face and, as if he’d been nailed with a paint gun, a splash of red colored Alastair’s cheeks. I was about to say it was just some paperwork we had to go over, but that would only make it sound like I was covering up something. Something that involved getting naked.

  "It’s not what you’re implying, Rafi," Alastair insisted. "And you’re right, it can wait until tomorrow. As long as someone keeps her promises."

  He leveled his gaze on me almost as if he knew I’d been in the file room. And almost as if he knew I’d planned to go back. Crap, if I was under house arrest, I couldn’t go wandering the hallways.

  "Sirs, we should go. The message is delivered, isn’t it?" Chester asked Rafi, who sighed with exasperation and said it had been.

  Alastair gave me an apologetic smile and went off, yet again with Rafi who was explaining to Chester how much trust he was putting in him to get these messages right.

  I turned back to the White Tower, trudged my way inside, then headed to Olivia’s office.

  24 - STRANGE ENCOUNTERS

  THE DOOR TO Olivia’s office stood open. Even so, I knocked and hesitated. Maybe she’d be too busy to scold me. Maybe she had short-term memory issues and had already forgotten why she’d sent for me.

  No such luck.

  Olivia looked up, her face revealing nothing of her mood as she waved me in. After I sat down, she tidied some papers, laced her fingers together with her hands resting on her desk, then spoke to me with surprising calm.

  "From what Busby told me about this morning, you did well. Showed some real control, so I don’t want you to think what I have to say next is any reflection on your work today." Like I said, this was spoken with calm poise, but it still did not sound good. "You will be tested the day after tomorrow."

  "A test? So soon? I thought I had a couple weeks."

  Olivia responded with a flash of annoyance, but for once, it wasn’t caused by me. "Someone," she said, acidly biting back a name, "insists the test be done as soon as possible. Someone wanted it to happen tomorrow." She paused, and it seemed like she was debating whether to tell me more. Apparently she decided against it. Her face softened and she said, "I have, however, argued that you will be allowed a full day of our most rigorous defensive training, especially as you have never formally sparred before. Have you?"

  I didn’t even know what she meant by sparring, so I shook my head.

  "You’ll be working hard tomorrow, so I want you to get some good rest and build up your energy tonight."

  With another of her hand flourishes she produced a wicker basket with a latching lid and a large, black F & M printed on the side. It didn’t take any magic to smell the sweet and savory treats inside. Something chicken-y was in there along with something filled with lemon, strawberries, and honey. My mouth started watering.

  "We have our own chefs here, but that," she pointed at the basket, "is top grade magic fuel. If you need it, there’s always more where that came from. Now, promise me you’ll pay attention tomorrow, that you won’t get flustered, and that after your test we’ll celebrate because I’m confident you’ll do just fine."

  As with Alastair, as with all these HQ people, I could tell from the overly bright way she said this that she definitely was not confident I would do fine.

  This time when I headed up the many stairs to my prison cell/hotel room I had to lug a picnic basket loaded with what felt like twenty pounds of gourmet treats. I considered using a Lifting Charm, but it wouldn’t improve my chances of passing muster with these people if I ended up sending a few hundred dollars worth of Fortnum & Mason food and beverage through the roof of the White Tower.

  When I reached my hallway, my legs were begging me to stop moving. Marveling briefly over having two functioning hands once again, I stopped for a moment to switch the basket from my left hand to my right. It was then I caught sight of Banna heading my direction. With a pair of too-large sunglasses perched on her tiny face, she reminded me of an overgrown insect.

  "I heard what happened and that they’re being right dunderheads by telling you to go to your room like you’re a child. Olivia has no sense of humor. Never has. And you with plans tonight."

  Which plans was she talking about? Operation Alastair or Operation Tobey? I thought it best not to speak, no
sense condemning myself.

  "Anyway, I don’t see any harm in leaving your room. As long as you stay in the White Tower, it’s not like you’re going to vanish, is it?"

  "Well, it is possible. Magic, you know."

  "Quite right, but you’ll try to avoid that, won’t you?" I nodded, wondering what in Merlin’s name she was going on about. "I’ll let Tobey know you’ll meet him, then."

  "You know about me and Tobey?"

  "Yes, and a more charming pair could not be found. Far better than you and that Alastair," she said with a sneer. "There’s the little matter of— Well, but that’s not forbidden, is it?"

  By forbidden I assumed she meant a Magic and a non-magic hooking up. But still. Me and Tobey?

  "Tobey and I aren’t—" I stopped talking. If Banna was going to give me permission to explore because she thought Tobey and I were a couple, that provided the perfect excuse. A disturbing one, but still perfect. "You’re sure it’s okay for me to be out?"

  "I won’t tell if you don’t. Meet him in an hour. The others will be planning your work for tomorrow then."

  And with that, she turned and shuffled back down the hallway.

  After delighting in the world’s best chicken pie with chips, an imperial pint of British ale, and a thesaurus-sized piece of lemon cake loaded on the top and in the middle with fresh strawberries and whipped cream, I flopped onto my stiff mattress. I was tempted to take a nap, but there were secrets to discover, so after too little time, I pulled myself off the bed.

  Despite my legs declaring they were going to start a coup against the rest of my body if I even looked at another staircase, I darted as stealthily as possible through the White Tower’s maze of corridors to meet up with Tobey in the file room.

  As I headed to the cabinet where I’d left off, I made a quick search through the Ma drawer, hoping for something on the Mauvais. Again, the chocolate raspberry scent. And again, an empty spot where the Mauvais’s file should have been. Alastair had obviously taken it despite what he’d told me. I wanted to know what was in those stolen files, but couldn’t risk going to Alastair’s room. Damn Olivia for her stupid demands.

  Annoyed and disappointed at my lack of success, I continued on and worked through the Ys and Xs. I didn’t know exactly what I was looking for, but I knew I hadn’t found it by the end of the hour. I bid Tobey good night and, although utterly exhausted, I managed to return to my room without making a single wrong turn. Quite a feat given how much brain power was being devoted to pondering what magical challenges I faced the next day, and how long it would be before I could talk to Alastair in private.

  25 - MORNING WORKOUT

  AT SOME POINT while I was in the bathroom getting dressed the next morning, another full English breakfast had appeared on my room’s table. I know I should have probably been more wary, but the previous day’s toast hadn’t killed me, so I doubted the food was poisoned. Besides, the only person who might want me dead would be the Mauvais — well, him and a few home-care nurses back in Portland. And he needed to capture, not kill me to get his magic back. After which he would likely kill me.

  I know, such happy morning thoughts, right? I made my way through the eggs, the beans, the sausage, and half the toast, but before I could finish, there came a knock on my door. My first thought was it might be Banna, so I shut the curtains and turned out the bathroom light before answering.

  Instead of a tiny, light-sensitive woman, I stood face to face with Busby who wore a look of annoyance.

  "Are you not awake yet?" he asked, peering over my shoulder at the darkened room.

  "No, I just thought you were Banna."

  "Hardly," he said derisively. "If you’re ready, then let’s get you to the training room. You’ll need to spend today practicing for tomorrow."

  I rushed back in, opened the curtains, and grabbed the final two triangles of toast. The empty plate instantly disappeared. It’s not one of my prouder moments, but the vanishing flatware made me yelp and sent me jumping back two paces. In my defense, I was already on edge. A little snort came from the doorway and I glanced over to see Mr. T biting back laughter.

  "Oh yes, Cassie nearly had a heart attack. So hilarious." As we wound our way, not down, but up the staircase (seriously, how many levels did this place have?), I said, "There’s something more to this test than you’re letting on, isn’t there?"

  "What makes you say that?"

  "I may have the social skills of an earthworm, but I can recognize when people aren’t giving me the full story. So, are you going to tell me or not?"

  "It’s a placement test of sorts."

  "Of what sort?"

  He stopped on the stairway and turned to me, his face sterner than I’d ever seen it.

  "Of the very important sort, so please take it seriously."

  Well, that certainly put me at ease.

  When we reached the top of the stairs, we passed by a door with the words "Magical Medic" to the left of a caduceus decal, but instead of a snake twisting up a staff, it was a winged dragon doing the twining.

  Mr. Tenpenny ignored this door and opened another at the far end of the small, poorly lit space. When the door opened, I was blasted with bright sunshine, and Mr. T became nothing more than a silhouette to my newly-blinded eyes. Squinting and blinking, I followed him.

  The moment my eyes adjusted to the light, my jaw dropped at the view.

  We were on the roof. From ground level, the top of the White Tower appeared to be nothing special. But the area I was looking at sported a tinted glass awning and had been screened in with some type of mesh fabric — both of which I later learned had been enchanted to prevent any spells from going beyond them and to block the view of any passing planes or drones. The smooth floor was painted with the markings of a tennis court around which ran an oval track.

  "Is this a magic gym?" I asked.

  "No, just a recreational area, the gym is on one of the lower levels along with the pool. It’s been decided that the armory, while back in order now, may not have been the best place for your, well, your level of power. And really, it’s too nice to be cooped up in the indoor training room."

  I wondered briefly what William the Conqueror would have made of the Magics’ improvements to his White Tower. Mr. Tenpenny didn’t give my imagination much time to wander.

  "Now, the rules of the test are that you cannot employ any of your absorbing side. You’ll have to defend yourself using the techniques we’ll be working on today."

  "Why can’t I absorb? It’s my skill, isn’t it? That’s like saying a tall person has to crouch down during a game of basketball."

  "Because it is also your liability. And we don’t know how far the Mauvais might have infiltrated the magic community. After all, he was walking around right under our noses in Rosaria."

  "Are you saying I could be fighting the Mauvais and not know it?"

  "No, but there will be people watching, any one of whom might be influenced by the Mauvais, even without their knowing it. We believe that’s how he got so many Magics to go to his side before." I looked at him questioningly. "How can I explain it? Anyone in the audience could be given something that, if you absorbed it, could either hurt you or make it easier for the Mauvais to get your magic, the watch’s magic, for himself."

  "Like a computer virus."

  Mr. T clapped his hands together. "Exactly. And like a computer virus, it could get in and allow the Mauvais to access your power, his power. Which is another reason you must find a balance between your absorbing side and your giving side. That balance will keep you from doing either unintentionally."

  The Mauvais mucking around inside my head? Yeah, I was a little more motivated to get to this training.

  "So where do we start?"

  "Where you left off with Alastair." Sexual tension mixed with unrelenting suspicion? No, probably not. "I’ll be working you rather hard on some basic defensi
ve spells this morning." He stepped over to a supply closet and began rummaging for something. My first thought was magical medicine balls.

  "I thought Defense Ag—" I bit off the Harry Potter reference before Mr. T caught it. "I thought defensive training was Alastair’s job."

  "It is, but you need a full day of training and he can’t be around you that long. Others can." He made a sound of triumph and pulled out two thick, black shirts that reminded me of darker versions of the things fencers wear. "I will show you the most useful spells as well as tactics for when to use them. You will then have a break for lunch, after which you will spar with Olivia and then finally Rafi."

  "Is that safe? For them, I mean."