The Spellcast Gate (Accessory to Magic Book 5)

by Kathrin Hutson

  “Corpus.” Railen raised his eyebrows. “An interesting name. Your tribe, I’m assuming.”

  “I guess you could call it that.” She closed her eyes and took another deep breath. “We’d just gotten back from a job. It was perfect. The whole thing went off without a hitch, and we celebrated. Just like we always did. But I had to take it overboard. Again. Go figure.”

  The memory of that night had been burned into her mind for almost two years now. The words that had sprayed from her mouth in Damian’s living room were a complete jumble, but the venom with which she’d said them had apparently branded itself into her like a different kind of poison. So had the faces of her friends.

  Damian, Anthony, and Cedrick all clearing their throats and eyeing each other as she’d railed on Rufus’ private life. On his demons. Rebecca and Mel trying to tell her to stop, that she was taking it too far, that they’d this finished one of the biggest jobs of their careers and now wasn’t the right time.

  “I guess there’s a fine line between getting a little wasted and completely crossing over into raging-asshole territory. And I... Jesus, I said things I never should have said. Things I didn’t even really mean. Everyone else knew I was just letting off steam, but when you start breaking promises and hanging someone else’s dirty laundry out for everyone to...”

  Jessica gritted her teeth against the nauseating wave of guilt flowing through her. She’d been so sure of herself back then, so goddamn arrogant about what she could do and how fucking important she was to Corpus. To Mickey. And she’d thrown it all right out the window the second she’d let the booze start talking for her.

  “I let him down. In the worst way possible, I let him down. I let Mel down. I ruined everything we’d built together just because I couldn’t see how much of an ass I was.”

  Goddamnit, that hurt to say. The truth almost always did, right?

  “I should’ve known it would send Rufus over the edge, but I wanted to get back at him for...” She rubbed her aching forehead and snorted. “You know what? That part doesn’t matter anyway. It wasn’t even true. It’s just something I have to deal with now.”

  In this tent, sitting around a stupid table with two Xaharí magicals and being compelled to say it all under the magic of Ahárra became that much worse when Jessica could have sworn she now saw Rufus standing by the curio cabinet. He looked so real—his dark eyes crinkling as he smiled, hands thrust into his pockets, his head cocked to the side like he was waiting for her to say more.

  Like he always had before she’d said far too much without the possibility of ever taking it back.

  She stared at the vision and felt something deep inside her crack wide open at the chance to almost see him again but like this. Happy. Not the way she’d last seen him and would never forget.

  Railen stroked his chin, staring contemplatively at the table. “Words do have their own power. Whatever it was you said, I imagine it’s been imprisoning you far longer than it has him. Perhaps this friend of yours has already released it in his own way—”

  “No.” Jessica let out a harsh laugh that ended in a strangled croak. “No, it’s more like he released himself. And I didn’t even get the chance to apologize. Fuck, I wanted to. I tried, but he was already gone.”

  Jessica blinked furiously and sniffed, ignoring the sting in her nose and the pounding pressure at her temple that made her eyes well up all over again. When she looked back up beside the curio cabinet, the image of Rufus was had disappeared.

  He’d never been there in the first place, but it sure had felt like it. For a moment.

  “Hmm.” Apparently, Railen was trying really damn hard to put the pieces together for himself, because this killer story of hers was taking way too long. Leandras shot him a warning glance, but the mage seemed oblivious. “You pushed him away. Understandable. Still, I can’t help but wonder how that would make such an impact as to—”

  “I killed him.”

  The second those words were out, all the strength she’d used to hold back her tears left right along with them. She didn’t break down sobbing. She didn’t cover her face. But the steady stream of hot tears burned down her cheeks in an endless release.

  It didn’t even matter now that the fae man and the mage were there to see all of it. Yeah, it was a shocking revelation, but they hadn’t known Rufus. They had no idea who Jessica used to be with Corpus. They could watch her all they wanted, and they’d still never understand.

  “Nobody else sees it that way.” Her voice sounded thick and raw and felt so incredibly heavy rising from her throat. “Accidental overdose isn’t anyone’s fault, right? But this one... This one was. It was my fault. Pretty screwed-up justice there when I was the one who found him the next morning. I was the one who had to tell everyone he was gone. I had to tell Mel that he—”

  “None of us held that against you.”

  That was what Mel had told her two months ago as they sat across the table from each other for that stupid lunch. And she’d meant it. Jessica knew she’d meant it, and it still didn’t make a difference.

  All her friends had told her the same thing in one way or another, but the only voice that could have uttered those words and cleared her conscience was the voice she’d never hear again.

  No amount of darkwine and talk-therapy in Ahárra could change that. Not even an eternity of it.

  “So.” Jessica cleared her throat. “I used to drink. I don’t anymore.”

  “Because you believe bad things happen when you do,” Railen prompted.

  Sure, he was only trying to help, but this guy’s interjections were the reason she’d sworn off therapy altogether. That and the fact that shrinks kept notes.

  “Yeah.” She snorted. “Because bad things...”

  A flicker of light over Leandras’ head—like a single tongue of silver and black fire—stole her attention. It was only there for a second, just long enough for Jessica to take notice before it dissipated and the light spread down around the fae man’s head, across his shoulders, then disappeared.

  Her first answer—because bad things happened—had been a knee-jerk reaction. Whatever creepy power of realization Ahárra used now to warn Jessica of her own misunderstanding had very clearly made one hell of a point.

  She looked up at Leandras and found him staring back at her with that tiny frown of concern and just as much compassion as the night in her room she’d spent telling him of her childhood—or at least the end of it. Whatever existed between them now, this was why it never could never turn into anything else.

  “Because I’m afraid it’ll happen again,” she whispered, holding his gaze. “That’s why.”

  The Laen’aroth’s frown deepened, and when he dipped his head, she felt like the damn fae could see right through her into everything Ahárra hadn’t already stolen to put on display.

  Was that better or worse?

  “Ah.” Closing his eyes, Railen inhaled deeply through his nose. A smile spread slowly across his lips. “A personal truth opens many doors.”

  His trying-to-be-wise nod snapped her out of her realization and brought all the anger rushing right back. Part of it might have also been the darkwine, but they’d each only had two.

  Jessica cocked her head. “You say that like you’ve heard this story a million times.”

  “Not yours, no. But I have shared Ahárra many times with many different guests. Sometimes, the realizations exist merely between those who sit with me at this table. Sometimes, an individual comes to Ahárra expecting one thing and gaining an entirely different kind of knowledge. As, I believe, you have.”

  “Right.” Jessica angrily wiped the tears from her cheek with the back of a hand. “We sat down together so I could blame myself for killing someone I loved all over again. Just with witnesses this time.”

  “Jessica,” Leandras started, but Railen lifted a hand to stop him.

  “You were here to discover and release what’s still standing in the Guardian’s way. Very few i
n Xahar’áhsh are willing to take that step for themselves.”

  “I wasn’t willing until after we’d already started.”

  His eyes widened. “You were willing the second you stepped into this tent without the Laen’aroth at your side.”

  He had a point there. Jessica would have done practically anything to get the answers she’d received at this table. She’d done what was required of her, after all. She’d spoken the truth of her own fear—the one thing that had held her back from truly being herself again after she’d served her six months’ time in MJ Pen and tried to reinvent the core of who she was.

  Jessica had removed half her damn magic just to stop feeling like no matter where she went or what job she had or who she loved, she would inevitably screw it all up.

  “I don’t see why you guys had to be here for it,” she snapped. “If the heart of the matter was me getting down to my own personal reasons for hating myself, you should’ve just told me to drink alone.”

  “Yes, and then your secret would have remained.”

  Leandras cleared his throat. “I believe we’ve reached a—”

  “My secrets aren’t anyone else’s business.” Jessica glared at the mage. “And they have nothing to do with why Leandras and I came here or everything we apparently still have to do.”

  “No?” Railen spread his arms. “Ahárra does not reveal to create a rift where there is none or widen those that already exist. Its purpose is to unite.”

  “I can’t unite with someone who’s already dead!” All the air left in her lungs seeped out in a rush when she realized just how badly she’d needed to say that. It couldn’t be changed, no, but she could at least accept it and move on. Hopefully.

  In the silence, Railen dipped his head, clearly conceding to her statement. Then his fingers flickered toward the fae man sitting beside him. “But perhaps now you’ve made the space within yourself to unite with others.”

  Jessica huffed out a weak laugh that didn’t make much more sound than that.

  Leandras? She had to talk about Rufus just so she and the Laen’aroth could forge a new path together toward saving two worlds?

  That was ludicrous. Absolutely insane. It was...

  She looked to the fae man for reassurance—some small flicker of that incessant smirk or flash of light behind his eyes that proved he was enjoying her discomfort more than anyone had a right to enjoy it. Some kind of proof he agreed with her and secretly thought the mage had lost his mind too.

  But none of that made itself evident in his expression. Leandras held her gaze with an open expectation, like he was waiting for her to do something with what their host had just implied.

  Waiting for her to accept it.

  Because they’d been doing this together from the beginning. At least, it had been the beginning for Jessica. No matter how much they’d tried to fight it, neither of them would be sitting here right now if they hadn’t come together under the most infuriating circumstances over and over again.

  Jessica had played her part in hurrying along the poison that had stolen Rufus’ life from all of them.

  She’d also played her part in returning Leandras’ life—in pulling him back from the other side of the veil from which no one was supposed to return.

  At least, not as far as she knew.

  Leandras widened his eyes and leaned forward over the table, briefly glancing at his cordial glass. “I’d like to offer—”

  “Don’t.” Jessica pressed her lips together and nodded once. “He’s right. Maybe you had to hear all that to really know what you’re getting yourself into. So let’s move on and get to the next goddamn layer of this magical hell before I change my mind.”

  “Hmm.” Railen patted his stomach and scanned the tabletop. He looked like a mage who’d just heard way too much and had sat through far more than he’d signed up for in the first place. “Unfortunately, that’s not possible.”

  Chapter 8

  “Not possible?” Jessica glared at the mage who apparently couldn’t be bothered to follow through with his own promises. “You said we keep going until it’s finished.”

  “I certainly did.”

  “Then why would say something like that?” She thrust a finger at him. “I’m done here. We’re done!”

  “Jessica—”

  “Don’t Jessica me and jump to his side at the last second.” She swung her finger toward Leandras, and he actually lifted both hands in surrender. “There’s nothing left. You already know all my other secrets, and I am not going down every other shitty memory just so fucking Ahárra can get its rocks off. I want out of this. Now.”

  Railen hummed out a laugh. “I believe I have a much better understanding of your original predicament with fully preparing the Guardian for her role here, Leandras.”

  “What’s that even supposed to mean?”

  The mage shrugged, his smile flickering in and out as he stared at the table and let her yell at him.

  “Jessica,” Leandras tried again.

  “What?”

  He blinked slowly, his hands still raised in front of him. “May I say something?”

  “Unless it’s a spell that ends this conversation, then probably not.”

  The fae man dropped his gaze to the delicate frosted glass in front of him, and he whispered, “It’s empty.”

  “Seriously? That’s your important...”

  Then it hit her.

  His drink was empty.

  Jessica lurched forward to peer into her own glass. Yes, it was definitely empty—not a hint of amber liquid or a leftover droplet of green-black darkwine settled at the bottom. Nothing.

  “Wait, what?”

  “Well.” Railen slapped his thighs, nodded at each of them, then pushed himself to his feet. “I’m sure there are a few gourds of darkwine still circling around outside. Do let me know when you decide to visit Ocaiye.”

  The mage arched his back and clasped his hands behind him for a massive backward stretch and a series of popping knuckles and vertebrae. With a sigh, he strode quickly across the tent, brushed aside the entrance flap, and stepped into the clearing where the rest of his order danced and laughed and made the most out of what they had to work with. Namely an endless party in the forest and now the Guardian and her Laen’aroth guide to help them finally end it.

  The tent flap fluttered shut again, and Jessica snatched her empty cordial glass off the table. “It’s completely dry.”

  “Yes.” Leandras hadn’t moved from his seat on the cushion and only kept staring at her.

  “And he just walked right out of here.”

  “Also yes.”

  “But I thought... I mean, I guess I just assumed—”

  “A grand finale to our journey through Ahárra?” The amusement had crept back into Leandras’ voice, but somehow, it didn’t sound like it was at her expense. “A burst of finished magic and a full return to your physical existence on the natural plane? Perhaps the striking of a fanfare?”

  “Okay, stop.” Jessica tried to scowl at him, but the revelation of having finally made it out of their multi-layered time-trap—not to mention how close she’d been to ripping Railen’s head off by mistake—made her smile instead. She set the empty glass down for the millionth time and took a deep breath as she ran a hand through her hair. “Yeah, I did expect something. Kinda hard not to after all that.”

  “I do hope you’re not vastly disappointed.”

  “I wouldn’t call it disappointment, exactly. Just...surprised.”

  He pushed himself to his feet, then walked around the low table and offered her his hand.

  With a playful frown, Jessica accepted and let him help her up. “If you’re on the verge of running away like the mage, I totally get it. I’d probably need some air too after hearing a story like that.”

  When Leandras didn’t let go of her hand, it forced her to look up at him again. Those silver eyes seemed somehow brighter now under the red and purple lanterns, and it wasn’t from a
flash of light behind them or a spell gone wrong or the hint of imminent danger on its way to meet them head-on.

  They shone in the same way as when Leandras had discovered some private secret of his own at the bar in Ryngivát—the kind that made him look downright giddy.

  So this was what hope looked like in the Laen’aroth, huh?

  Or maybe it was something else.

  Jessica huffed out a laugh. “What?”

  “Do you need air?”

  “I’m...not sure.”

  His smile faltered as he dipped his head toward her. “Let me clarify. I’m asking if you’d prefer to be alone.”

  No, that didn’t exactly feel like the right fit either. Especially when Leandras gave her hand a gentle squeeze and narrowed his eyes.

  “I’m fine.” To her surprise, she returned the gesture before turning toward the entrance. “I definitely wanna get out of this tent, though. And probably never come back. So let’s—”

  “Jessica.” He pulled her back toward him before releasing her hand. But he stood so close now that he didn’t have to touch her at all to keep her there. “I want to apologize first.”

  “Um...okay.” Out of all the ways she could have responded to the look he gave her now—the kind of look that said they weren’t finished here, alone in this tent—the warmth radiating off the fae’s body inches from hers and the smell of oncoming rain made her glance at his lips. Then she realized she’d bitten down on her own, and wasn’t that just sending one giant neon-lit message. “For what?”

  “For not having explained to you what this meeting with Railen would entail. Specifically the drinks.”

  “Right. Well, par for the course, I guess.”

  “No. I didn’t consider the fact that you may have had other burdens than those you’d already shared with me.”

  Like her parents’ deaths, her desperate six-year flee before finding Corpus, the Brúkii having found her, Mickey’s torture, having her memories wiped by a Peddler and returned by an immortal lizard, and that she’d been born with a completely different name as a completely different person?