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Pixie Noir (Pixie for Hire Book 1)

Page 8

by Cedar Sanderson


  Bella cocked her head at me, and I realized I’d missed something, and apologized. “Sorry. I’m wool-gathering.”

  “I was asking if you needed a nap. You look tired.”

  I yawned hugely at the word nap. “I suppose you are right. Going to sit watch over me?” My attempt at teasing fell a bit flat when she nodded seriously.

  “Wake me in an hour.”

  “Will do.” She pulled a slim case out of her bag and flipped it open to reveal a tablet.

  I fell back on the bed and closed my eyes, slipping into sleep far too easily.

  Chapter 7 - Dream Diversion

  “Your drains are clogged.” The old man was sitting on the edge of a trench, his feet in the muddy water.

  “What the hell?” Lom looked around at the eerie landscape. A ditch stretched out seemingly forever. Trees blocked out the horizon to either side, and if he looked at them too long, their limbs began to writhe. The sky was lowering overcast, swirling with unhealthy greens and purples. “Where am I?”

  The graybeard waved his pipe at Lom, the smoke falling listlessly toward the ground. “A particularly nasty bit of Underhill. Very useful for setting young lads at tasks that keep their nose to the grindstone.”

  Lom looked again. He remembered the mud, but the trees were new. It had been brown grass on dry fields before, and he had thought he was digging an irrigation ditch. “Dammit, Alger, I’m too old for your games. Why are you in my head? And how the hell did you get in, I thought I’d had you blocked.”

  Alger shrugged eloquently. He’d had centuries of practice, and Lom really thought he’d spent a few of those years in front of a mirror perfecting his Aged Wizard routine. “There’s a back door in that spell.”

  “I didn’t get it from you,” Lom pointed out through gritted teeth.

  “No, but I developed it. Look, we need to actually talk, not bicker.” Alger waved his hand, using the fingers of both the moving and stationary hand to build a spell, then they were sitting in a cozy room with a fire flickering in the grate. “Ah...” Alger stretched his feet out to the warmth, easing back in Lom’s own chair. “This is better. But I wanted to illustrate that your drains are blocked, dear boy.”

  Lom felt himself wince. Alger’s metaphors were usually heavy-handed, this one was worse than normal. Settling into the chair felt good, though, it had been a while - too long - since he had been home. Even in a dream, it was reassuring. “And what do you mean by that?”

  “I mean, of course, that every time you use magic, it’s a toxin building up inside you,” Alger leaned forward and stabbed his pipe stem in the direction of Lom’s chest. “And if you channel her, it’s that much faster.”

  “I’m teaching her magic so she doesn’t need me to channel her.”

  “And how much is she going to learn in a few days? I had a few years with you and look at you now...” Alger sighed, leaning back. “This new generation, always in such a hurry.”

  “I know how hard change is for the elderly, Alger,” Lom snarked at him. “We have less time than you have, and more to do.”

  Alger spluttered. “Elderly?”

  Getting Alger’s goat had always been Lom’s favorite pastime, but he had work to do, Lom couldn’t spend all afternoon in a dream with his great-great-it was forgotten how many times uncle. Besides, Alger was dangerous. He had great power, but his prices tended to be rough on those he helped.

  “I know only too well what is happening to me. I was there when the spell was set. I’ve spent years refining my tolerance levels, and I know where my limits are.”

  “She’s Lavendar’s kin. She’ll push your limits, boy.” Alger eyed Lom for a second, then stared into the fire. “Her grandmother,” Alger’s voice was softer than Lom had ever heard from him, “was a remarkable woman.”

  “Please don’t tell me...” Lom stumbled on his words, and couldn’t even finish that thought.

  “Eh?” Alger laughed after a moment when he understood what Lom had said. “No, no, not like that. She was her own girl, and far too young for me. But a powerhouse. Simply brought out the best and worst in all around her. I wonder if this girl of yours is the same way.”

  “She may be,” Lom reflected on her family and friends he had met so far. “But I have a job to do, and I intend to complete it, then go back to what I was doing before.”

  “You’ll be killed, you know.”

  Lom throttled back his irritation. Alger had this way of cocking a bushy brow at him and delivering the most annoying statements deadpan. “In escorting her to Underhill? I expect opposition, but not that heavy.”

  Alger fluttered his good hand at Lom in irritation. The other one sat in his lap, leaden, as always. “No, no... Well, yes, you could get killed doing that. It would be a glorious death! Reflect well on the Family, and all that.”

  Lom bit his tongue. “Hell with the Family. This was absolutely the last chore I was doing for them.”

  Alger chided him, “you keep saying that, too.”

  He went on, “No, the whole tracking down rogue magic users. Going to get you killed, m’boy. Bound to. You keep moving up the food chain, and you will find something with bigger teeth than you have.”

  “Maybe I am at the top of the food chain.” Lom knew better. There were creatures bound to Underhill he had always been glad were so bound.

  “Mphm...” Alger subsided again, having sat erect with his outburst about family. “You’re the head of the Family, you have a duty.”

  “The Family can go to hell.” Lom repeated himself. “And since when did you start taking my mother’s lines?”

  “Other than young Devon, who else is there?”

  “Not much of a family, ours. Besides, you’re the oldest, not I. That makes you the Head.”

  “I abdicated that role before your grandfather was out of training pants,” Alger returned calmly. “I’m just the advisor.”

  “Oh, some advice you give. What do you want, Uncle Alger? Stop beating around the bush, I don’t have time to rehash ancient family business.”

  Alger attempted a hurt look. Lom suppressed a snarky comment on it needing more practice. “I only want to make sure your mission is successful, boy.”

  “I neither need nor want your help. And I can’t afford the price.”

  “Tut, tut...”

  Now Lom did interrupt him. “Really? You just said tut, tut?”

  Alger laughed, he couldn’t help it. “You don’t respect my gravitas at all.”

  “I would if you had it. Can you go on without the flourishes?”

  “This time, boy, you can owe me. You’re going to need help with her.” Alger leaned forward, the jovial mask gone, and his eyes glittered in the firelight. “There are those even in High Court who will do anything to keep her from being presented. Should it appear she will become Consort... well, the gloves will come off. And Low Court is restless. Word is that the Hunt is preparing.”

  “It’s been a while since they rode out. They were pretty well dispersed the last time.” Lom spoke more calmly than he felt. He remembered the last time all too well. The breath of the hounds...

  “Yes, and they have had a few years to lick their wounds, boy.” Alger’s voice had softened again, and Lom knew he was remembering, too. Lom would have been dead if it weren’t for him. He owed Alger for that, if nothing else.

  “And just how do you propose to help me?” Lom was still wary of him.

  “You are teaching her magic?”

  “Just barely started.” Lom admitted, running his hands through his hair and making Alger smile. He looked silly with it all on end, but it was a habit.

  “I can help.”

  “I am not letting you run around in her mind.” Lom pointed at him. “Just because you make yourself at home in my mind, does not mean you are allowed to do it with her. You don’t have permission from her, and I will tell her not to grant it if you asked.”

  Alger looked hurt, and this time it was much more genuine. “I am not
given to trespassing. You are... unique.”

  “You mean I’m the only mind you’ve violated? Pull the other one, it has bells on.”

  Alger sighed. “I will give you a spell for her. Teach it to her, and it will give her access to a library, of sorts. My only fear is that she won’t understand it.”

  Lom thought back to his recent conversation with her about her college years and the affection for research that had led her into the line of work she was doing. “No, I rather think she is a library kind of girl. That might work.” He eyed Alger dubiously, “what’s the price?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  Lom blinked at him. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

  “I mean it’s a favor you will owe me, and I’ll collect in time. Or maybe never. Right now, just take it and get your duty fulfilled.”

  “I don’t think I can afford this.”

  “She can help with repayment, then.”

  “The hell she can,” Lom stood up and pointed at Alger. “You leave her alone, old man.” He smiled, which just made Lom madder. “This is my job, and I’ll do it. Give me the spell, and let me get out of this dream.”

  Alger reached into a pocket in his coat and brought out a ratty book. Lom held out his hand, and he placed it gently on Lom’s palm. Spells in reality were sometimes visible as energy, but here in the dream it had a physical weight, and a faint smell of old book.

  Lom sniffed, “I’ll admit I’m rather fond of that odor.” He tucked it under his arm, lacking a pocket large enough to hold it. Alger stood up.

  “Best of luck, boy. You don’t know how much hangs on your success. I shall be in the wings, watching, but I cannot interfere too much once you are Underhill.”

  Lom shook his head. “Get caught interfering at all and you will be banished, and I know it. You’ve done too much, over the years, and the fairies have long memories.”

  “Teach your grandmother to suck eggs.” Alger chuckled. “I shall be discreet.”

  “Can you do that?” Lom mocked at him gently. The old man wasn’t someone Lom could spend too much time with, but Alger was family, and had been his teacher from when Lom could remember. “Be safe. I can manage delivering the girl, and she isn’t a helpless thing.”

  Alger reached out and they shook hands, awkwardly, Lom remembering that he wasn’t really there, and Alger with a look that meant he’d rather hug Lom. Lom had made his feelings about that clear long ago. Alger let go of his hand and Lom felt the dream dissolving, and closed his eyes.

  Chapter 8 - The Magical Library

  When I opened them again, I was staring at the ceiling of the stateroom on the ferry. I turned my head. Bella was sitting and reading, still.

  “How long was I out?”

  She jumped. I smiled, and made a mental note to take her books away if she ever had to stand watch.

  “Oh, about an hour...” She looked down at the tablet. “Or two.”

  “Good book?” I sat up and stretched. The spell was no longer visible, but I could feel the pull of it, attached to me.

  “Yes. Do you... do that often?”

  “That wasn’t a nap,” I assured her dryly. “That was someone’s heavy-handed attempt at communicating with me in a dream.”

  “Oh. You can do that?”

  “I’m not going to teach it to you. The problem with being able to do it is, it’s too hard to make sure the person you’ve given permission to enter your mind can’t get in whenever they like. I didn’t think this person could any longer, for instance.”

  “Oh!” She repeated, her eyes wide. “So this was an enemy?”

  I shook my head. “He’s my old teacher, and a relative. But he always extracts a price for his help, and sometimes that price can be... well, let’s just say that the stories of Puck having ass’s ears have a basis in reality. And for Alger, that wasn’t much of a price. More a prank.”

  I remembered the years of servitude to him that my mother had paid for what she wanted. Only it had been me, serving, not her. I suppressed the familiar flare of resentment and rage, and the fear at what he was going to ask for, this time, and went on.

  “He wanted to help me teach you magic.”

  “And how much will it cost?” She looked a little nervous, and I didn’t blame her.

  “Nothing to you. This is something he and I will work out, later. Evidently it’s important to him that you make it to Court, and he gave me a spell for you to learn. It will give you access to a library of spells, and it will be a whole lot faster than me teaching you babysteps.”

  She looked me in the eyes. “Do you trust him?”

  I sighed. There was the heart of the matter. No matter what else, he’d been good to me in the long run. I’d become his student, not just a servant, and although I’d chafed at being tied to him, the reality was that I’d be dead many times over if it weren’t for the skills I’d learned from Alger.

  “Yeah. I do, and furthermore, he has motivation to keep you safe and sane.”

  She nodded. “What do I do, then?”

  “Spells, to boil it down to the simplest level, are a form of energy. We compel them, and release them, with hand gestures. Most use both hands, some simple ones only use one, or just finger movements. I’m going to lay this,” I pulled the spell free of my aura and it appeared as a golden flicker of energy, vaguely book-shaped. I smiled. Alger was a master craftsman at the things he really cared about.

  I held it out to Bella, who was staring at it in awe. I went on, “in your hands, and when you close your fingers around it and squeeze, it will activate. It will probably take a while for you to assimilate, I remember some of his teaching spells from when I was a lad.”

  She nodded, eyes wide and apprehensive.

  “It won’t hurt.” I promised her, and put the book in her hands. She held it tightly, and there was a brief flare of the golden light, then it disappeared.

  Bella shuddered and leaned back, closing her eyes. I let her be. Alger’s spells were compact and efficient, and that had been a large one. This would take some time. I looked at my watch and decided that food would be a good idea for her when she came out of it. I couldn’t leave her like this, though, she would be helpless.

  I sat on the bed and closed my eyes, opening the Sight as wide as I could without boosting it with my magic. Alger was right, I really needed to be careful how much magic I used. I’d been careless in Tok, but special circumstances. These days, I got by on cunning and speed as much as magic. I’d pushed my limits a few times right after the battle that had won me this particular scar, and I knew that it would leave me sick and helpless if I let it build up too far. At least it seeped out slowly when I wasn’t using magic at all, or I would be dead by now.

  The Sight showed no other magical activity on the boat, besides Bella. She was... I took a moment to watch her with the inner Sight. Her usual signature, a pale blue flare, was intricately overlaid with spinning golden letters, runes, numbers... I looked away. That spell was hypnotic with the dance of light on light she presented at the moment. I couldn’t afford the time or magic to get sucked into it with her.

  I opened my eyes slowly, and practiced just breathing while they readjusted. It wasn’t meditation, per se, which I’d long ago decided was frou-frou trappings for what my brain really needed. Peace, and oxygen. Not necessarily in that order. Getting my brain to stop a whirl of thoughts was all but impossible. I could slow it down, at least.

  I stood up. Bella still half-laid in the chair. Her eyes flickered rapidly under her thin eyelids, and I suppressed a sudden and irrational urge to bend over her and kiss those closed eyes... I found that I’d taken a step closer to her, and forced myself to walk past her, to the door.

  Out in the hall I practiced my breathing again. The racing thoughts and feeling of the last few minutes had been overwhelming. I’d have to be more careful. I kept saying that about her, and I was beginning to feel like a moth, drawn to the flame. Falling for the princess was fatal, outside fai
ry tales.

  When I returned to the room with a bag of the same sandwiches we’d had earlier, she was still where I had left her. I put the sandwiches on the night stand, locked the door, and lay down to get some real sleep. Dream talking was not at all restful. If she moved, it would wake me.

  As it turned out, she didn’t wake me, nor did anything else. I woke up groggy, slightly disoriented, and six hours later. It was still dark outside the tiny porthole window. I rolled over and looked at her. She was sitting just as I’d left her, eyes closed, breathing, I could see her chest move slightly.

  Now I was alarmed. It should not be taking this long for the spell to work. I got up and stood in front of her. If she opened her eyes we would be eye to eye, but she didn’t.

  “Bella?” I asked in a low voice. Still no response. I reached out and took her hand.

  Her eyes flew open, and after a second she focused on me. Her face animated again from the soft relaxation she had been showing before, and she frowned. “Leave me alone. I’m trying to figure out this damned archaic card catalogue system. Who uses these things anymore, anyway?”

  I let go of her hand, and her head fell back, eyes already closed. She was in a trance, mentally in the library Alger had given her. With the era he’d learned to use a library, it was no surprise the indexing system was complicated and obscure. I’d leave her to it until she was ready to come out. My stomach growled, reminding me that I still needed to feed her, too.

  I wound up giving Bella bites of the sandwich, which she took without ever really opening her eyes, chewing and swallowing almost mechanically. Then she got up, disappeared into the bathroom, and returned, all without fully opening her eyes. I tried not to be freaked out. There wasn’t much I could do about it, short of calling Alger, and I didn’t think he’d respond, or even think anything was wrong with this behaviour. I did start to wonder just how large the library he had given her was, though.

 

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