I jumped. “Shit, you can’t eavesdrop on our conversation.”
Lloyd’s forehead scrunched up. “Er, Jas, you’re not talking to her, are you?”
“You have zero concept of privacy,” I said to Evelyn, then turned back to Lloyd. “Unfortunately, yes, I am.”
“Evelyn’s here right now?” he asked.
“Technically, she always is,” I said. “But she seems particularly restless at the moment. Don’t you want to talk to the Hemlocks, too?”
“You can do that without leaving the guild if you want to,” she said. “If you really care so much about following the rules.”
Shit, I could. If I left my body. “Are you sure you’re not trying to get into my body to possess me and run amok again?”
“No, I want to talk to them, too,” she said. “About those symbols.”
“You’re seriously thinking of letting her have her way?” Lloyd said. “You know what happened last time. I’m not up for being strangled by your mad ancestor.”
“She’s coming with me,” I said. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on her.”
“That’s not necessary,” Evelyn said.
Lloyd scowled. “Yeah, I don’t trust her.”
“Relax.” I brushed dust from my clothes and stood up. “It’s no different to going into the spirit realm.”
“Except you might get stuck there again. Or possessed.”
“Tell you what, I’ll set up a circle, then,” I said. “Use one of the protected rooms. It’ll only be for a minute, and if the Hemlocks won’t help me, I’ll get out of there.”
“All right,” he said. “But I don’t trust her. A bit.”
Nor do I. But in all my hours exploring the spirit realm lately, I hadn’t thought to travel into the forest as a ghost to speak to the Hemlocks. The idea of leaving my body unattended was still as unappealing as letting Evelyn have her way.
Lloyd and I found an empty room and set up a candle circle. Since there were more patrols out in the city than usual, nobody disturbed us, and I put a sealing spell on the door just in case. Lloyd watched me, second thoughts written all over his face, but I gave him a reassuring smile and stepped confidently into the circle.
In one blink, I was out of my body, rising through the ceiling to the guild’s roof. Evelyn floated alongside me. Despite her usual closed expression, she had to be enjoying this. The spirit realm was downright fun when you had this type of freedom.
As a spirit, the forest was even easier to find than I expected. One second, Evelyn and I hovered side by side on the spirit line. The next, trees crowded in around us, and darkness closed overhead.
“Hey,” I said, not sure if my being here as a ghost would alert the Hemlocks or not. Considering Leila had got into the forest undetected, probably not. “Hey, Cordelia. We’re here.”
Silence. Not so much as a stirring in the branches.
I turned to my companion. “Evelyn, please tell me you know where the cave is.”
“It’s not geographically fixed.”
Wonderful. Lost in the woods with the ghost of my dead ancestor. I floated down the path, hoping to see a landmark, but there weren’t any.
Fine, then. I tapped into my Hemlock magic, and it rose to my fingertips, lighting them in grey and green. The forest warped and shifted, and the next second, we were in the cave, faced with the sculpture containing the form of Cordelia Hemlock.
“You two,” said Cordelia. “Where is your body, Jacinda?”
“Don’t worry, it’s safe,” I said. “The guild has me on house arrest, so I thought I’d pop in and visit. And Evelyn wanted to talk to you, too.”
“Yes, I do,” Evelyn cut in. “Someone is using the old rituals to incite chaos among the local supernaturals. That suggests it’s time.”
“Uh, time for what, exactly? I thought we were here to discuss those symbols.” The glowing green glyphs at the back of the cave snagged my gaze. Definitely similar ones, if not the outright same.
“Jacinda knows little compared to you,” Cordelia said to Evelyn, completely ignoring me. “It’ll take time to bring her up to speed.”
“I’m right here,” I pointed out. “What I’d like to know is, what’s that language in those glyphs, and why the hell can it be used to reanimate corpses? Only necromancy is supposed to be able to do that.”
“As I said, your knowledge is limited,” she said. “Humans like to hide from what they fear, not embrace it.”
“I am human,” I said. “Let’s skip the part where you lament what a disappointment I am and tell me what the bloody language is. Why does it have power over life and death?”
“Because we do, Jacinda. The language is ours.”
“You mean you created it, or…?” My words trailed off. I already knew. The Hemlocks had created it, humans had stolen it, and now the enemy was using it against us. “You created the base for the witches’ language? How is that possible?”
“Because the symbols are nothing more than shortcuts, and what matters is the magic itself,” Cordelia said. “If you’d paid attention in lessons, you’d know.”
“I knew that part,” I said. “It’s the same with necromancy. But I’m a little lost on why you created a symbol that can reanimate and control someone against their will.”
“Our predecessors created the symbols, Jacinda, not the means of controlling every decision someone makes regarding how to use them. Yes, that does mean they can be used for terrible deeds.”
“That figures,” I said. “I take it they’re not common knowledge, then. Who might be using them in Edinburgh?”
“Who indeed?” she croaked. “The knowledge trickled out of our grasp long ago.”
Translation: Leila might have told anyone. And the symbols weren’t restricted to the Hemlock witches. I’d always thought necromancy and witchcraft weren’t that much different, but I hadn’t known the symbols were the exact same. Most necromancy only used the spoken words which didn’t correspond to any existing language.
“They’re not just raising the dead,” I said. “The same people are creating spells to force shifters to transform and attack the mages against their will.”
“Not all shifters,” Evelyn interjected. “Specifically, direct bloodline descendants.”
“Hey!” I turned to her. “You knew? You were hanging around while I was talking to Ivy and Ilsa, too.”
“Of course I was,” she said. “We cannot be separated that easily, Jacinda.”
Irritation prickled at me. “Look, there are basic rules of manners… never mind.”
Direct bloodline descendants. Shifters who were descended directly from the Ancients. Had they been targeted because they were easy targets—or because whatever the enemy used to control them worked more strongly on shifters of that bloodline?
I turned back to Cordelia. “My magic reacted violently when I touched the spell controlling the shifters. Why?”
Cordelia’s eyes gleamed like dark pits. “Your magic cannot abide to be near the magic of our ancient enemies.”
“That doesn’t explain why—” I broke off. “Was it the stone that destroyed the wards on the hotel?”
“Perhaps,” Evelyn said. “It’s as likely as anything else.”
If it was true… there were more pieces of stone inside the mages’ headquarters, where the others had relocated. And where my friends were right now.
16
Ignoring Evelyn’s shout of protest, I faded out of the forest, back into my body. If Evelyn got left behind, it was not my problem. I had to warn the others.
“Whoa,” said Lloyd, as I jerked upright, knocking several candles over in the process. “What is it?”
Ice cracked on my hands, and I winced. “I’m ninety percent sure it’s those damned stones that brought down the hotel wards. I should have known.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep.” I grabbed my phone and sent Isabel a text. “Not that it really matters considering those shifter ghosts can get an
ywhere they like anyway, but I’m the one who left the bloody stone in Isabel’s room.”
“That’s it, I’m coming with you.” Lloyd grabbed a couple of candles.
“Sorry, Lloyd, but necromancy isn’t much help when you’re being clawed open by a rabid shifter, even a ghostly one. Can you take the candles back? If the boss asks, tell her my family might be in trouble again. She can’t blame me for going to warn them.”
Lloyd let out an exasperated noise. “It’s not worth telling you to be careful, is it? Please try not to die this time, Jas.”
“I’ll make a special effort just for you.”
My phone buzzed with a call from Isabel as I ran out of the room.
“Hey,” I said, accepting the call. “I’m on my way now. Are you still at Asher’s?”
“I am, but—I think that’s why the shifters went after me first. I had the stone in my room.”
“I should have known.” My free hand clenched. “I’m going to warn the others. I know the mages will probably yell at me, but whatever.”
“I’ll message Ivy—no idea whether she’s there or not, but she’s usually good at convincing people to listen.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Seriously, be careful with those stones. They need to be destroyed, but hell if I know how.”
Even Drake’s mage fire hadn’t put a dent in them. Nor Isabel’s explosives. If they were somehow linked directly to the Ancients, was it even possible to destroy them?
“I’ll try to think of something,” Isabel said. “And I’ll get there as soon as I can.”
“Thanks.” I turned off my phone, ducking out of sight of a group of passing necromancers. When the coast was clear, I sprinted through the lobby and out into the cobbled street.
Never mind my job—those stones could bring the wards around the guild’s headquarters crashing down. And now I’d abandoned Evelyn in the woods. Not that she couldn’t join me at any time if she wanted to, but I was setting records for fuck-ups and the day was barely half over.
I broke into a full-blown sprint, my lungs burning, my legs protesting. Please tell me the mages have guessed what those stones might have done. Vance must have worked it out, surely. I should have checked the hotel wards when I’d last left, but it had slipped my mind.
I hurtled around a corner and skidded to a halt outside the mages’ guild entrance. The wards were back up, the gates sealed, and the same mage apprentice as before stood on guard outside. I nearly groaned aloud at the sight of his impeccably combed straw-coloured hair and polished shoes.
“You again?” said the mage. “What do you want?”
“What did the mages do with the spells they confiscated from the shifters?” I asked, between breaths.
“Why?”
Being direct was probably the best approach. “They’re booby-trapped,” I said. “They can neutralise witch wards, including the ones right behind you.”
“You’re having me on,” he said. “Who sent you?”
“Uh, I’m friends with several people in this building,” I told him. “Ask for Ivy Lane or Mage Lord Colton if you don’t believe me.”
He scowled and raised his sleeve, tapping a mark on his arm. A mage mark. Mages used them to communicate with one another, usually master-to-apprentice or two partners on a mission who wanted to be able to find each other quickly. The swirling lines made my stomach turn over, recalling the bloody symbol on the dead witch’s body. The glyphs the mages used weren’t unlike the witch runes. Maybe that type of magic had never gone out of style at all.
“What’re you looking at?” he said. “Never seen a mage mark before?”
“Wouldn’t it be quicker just to use your phone?” Where in hell was Ivy?
His scowl deepened. “Quit taking the piss. I’m Lord Sutherland’s son, and the mark connects me to him.”
I blinked, then stifled a laugh. “He doesn’t trust you not to wander off alone?”
Usually, the marks were used for members of a team of mages to stay in contact with one another while on a dangerous mission. For Lord Sutherland to put it on his son meant he was either ridiculously overprotective or said son had a habit of shirking his duty.
“Don’t you laugh at me!” He flushed to his hairline. “Dad, get out here. Tell her to go away.”
“There’s no need to shout.” Lord Sutherland strode out behind him. “Neil, what are you doing?”
“She insulted me!” he said.
I rolled my eyes. “He’s acting like a spoiled child. I told him about a legitimate threat to your security and he didn’t believe me, so here we are.”
“Threat to our security?”
“Those wristbands the shifters were wearing contained a stone that has the power to neutralise witch wards,” I said. “That’s how the enemy attacked the hotel. What did you do with the ones you confiscated?”
His eyes narrowed, showing his beautifying spells had slipped, and there were wrinkles in the corners of his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “And how exactly did those stones get into the hotel? Was it you who brought them in?”
Ah, crap. “I didn’t know. Nor did you, otherwise you’d have warned the other mages… right?”
His gaze went to the shimmering wards on the gates. “If you are correct, I assume that if nobody has been foolish enough to remove one of those stones from the building, the wards remain functional as ever.”
Crap. Ivy took one. My hands itched to feel the wards, to see if they were as intact as they looked, but that’d blow my cover.
“So you still have them?” Cold sweat gathered on the back of my neck. I’d have to wait until he was gone to check, but as long as the enemy had those stones, they could break in at any time.
“If you mean the spells the attackers used against us, they’re with my own team of witches, who are analysing them as we speak.”
“And has anyone tested to see if they break?” I asked. “Isabel’s best explosives couldn’t put a dent in them. Drake’s mage fire couldn't damage them either.”
“My team are more than capable of handling the matter ourselves,” he said, nodding to Neil. “See to it that Jas leaves the premises immediately.”
Neil looked like Christmas had come early. I wanted to punch him in his smug face.
“And the dead body?” I said, not moving. “That doesn’t concern you?”
He held my gaze for a moment. “A lot of things concern me. Things that aren’t fit for the ears of simple necromancer apprentices.”
White-hot anger bubbled inside me. Now I wished I could punch both of them. “Lady Harper would disagree with your approach.” Or maybe she wouldn't. She’d probably give me a tongue-lashing of her own. Damn, I missed her. Who’d have thought it.
“Lady Harper was a remarkable woman, with a remarkably flawed vision.”
What does that mean? “You knew her personally?”
“Did you?” He left the question hanging. “I’ll be hosting another meeting tomorrow, Jas, the last gathering of the Council of Twelve. Feel free to tell me more about your theories with the rest of the council as an audience.”
Damn him. I turned away, my cheeks burning. I should have known the mages would have their own plan to deal with the enemy, but he seemed entirely too unconcerned about the stones. What is he scheming?
Then again, Lord Sutherland would be fine no matter what happened. Not just because he lived in one of the most protected places in the city, but because the supernatural world’s laws always protected mages first, above all others.
The last meeting of the Council of Twelve. I doubted he’d used that wording by accident. Whether he was right or not, the mages would be going it alone.
And no wards would protect them the next time the walls between worlds came crashing down.
By the following morning, I was a brittle mess of nerves. While Ivy claimed that the stones, if the mages had them, hadn’t left the building, Lord Sutherland and his son’s smug words had chased one another around my head a
ll night. Seeing his face as he opened the meeting made my blood churn and my Hemlock magic simmer below the surface. The meeting room seemed emptier without the shifters, and half the witches hadn’t shown up either. In fact, only Isabel and two others were present.
The Mage Lord spoke. “We have spent the last day discussing the attacks and the future steps necessary to prevent further conflict. Removing the shifters from the council was the first step, but the attacks would not have been possible without the aid of a witch. Therefore, no witches will serve on our council in future.”
“Does that include the person who makes your beautifying spells?” Ivy said, not bothering to lower her voice.
Lord Sutherland gave her a look frostier than the January air. “No witches, including your friend, will be permitted to stay in this building.”
Isabel shifted next to me, her mouth pressed in an angry line. “I suppose you won’t have need of any wards?”
The Mage Lord turned to his council. “It’s a necessary precaution, until these dark magic practitioners are brought to justice.”
“At least you admit it’s dark magic,” I said. What the hell—if Isabel was getting kicked out, I might as well go out in a blaze of glory. “And the shifters aren’t plotting against you of their own free will.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “All practitioners of dark magic will naturally be sentenced to death.”
Uh-oh.
“And how do you propose you’ll find them?” Lady Montgomery asked. “As you said to me yesterday, you have no way of tracking the practitioners, particularly if you expel your witches.”
“I think it’s obvious,” he said. “Any witch who belongs to a coven is to sign a register. Any witch who doesn’t is no longer allowed to practise magic. That will root out the traitors quickly.”
“But—there are already laws preventing anyone from selling spells on the market without a licence,” Isabel protested. “How can you police what people do in their own homes?”
“It should be relatively easy, with these.” He held up a band-shaped spell. “Any witch who fails to comply will wear one of these. My team has been perfecting them—I suppose at least I can say the enemy’s methods have been helpful for our own research.”
Witch's Spirit (The Hemlock Chronicles Book 3) Page 16
