"I wouldn't do that if I were you," said Slyvan.
"I'm not you," said Radoslav, flexing his hand. The smoke formed into a spectral dagger.
Slyvan pulled a figurine from his jacket. It looked like a miniature Easter Island head, except the features were more square. The smoke around Radoslav evaporated when he saw the figure.
"How did you get that?" asked Radoslav, his voice as hard as stone.
"The only thing that matters is that you return to her Ladyship," said Slyvan as he pulled back his sleeves, revealing bone bracelets on each arm carved into a snake.
Radoslav wasted no time in answering. "No."
"What if we take a lil stroll into your bar and smash a few walls, maybe your bar? You'd be amazed at what Bastone can do with those things," said Slyvan, holding his tongue between his teeth.
"I'll build a new bar," said Radoslav.
Slyvan sighed and rolled the figurine over in his hands while Radoslav's gaze never left it. Pi caught a whiff of metal in the back of her throat. She wanted to examine the figurine.
"I didn't want to have to resort to this," said Slyvan. "Her Ladyship hoped you might come on your own. But it seems you cannot be persuaded by normal means. So how's this little morsel. If you don't come back, she'll kill your mother."
Radoslav's eyebrows didn't dip or furrow or twitch. They didn't round with delight, or crease with anger. They didn't do anything at all.
Within the invisibility spell, Pi shook. They're going to kill his mother? Heat rose in her chest. She wanted Radoslav to rage, to fight back. Why didn't he fight back?
If it were my mother, she thought, not even completing the words in her head for they were too terrible to consider.
Radoslav glanced her way as if he sensed her anger. His lip twitched.
She squeezed her hands into fists. Why aren't you doing anything?
Pi pushed through the spell.
"Don't let them," said Pi, then as their gazes fell upon her she added, "I can help if it's worth anything."
Radoslav put a hand over his face.
"Got yourself a mageling on retainer, how sweet," said Slyvan.
"You shouldn't have revealed yourself," said Radoslav without looking at her.
Slyvan strolled over. She could feel him trying to seduce her with his maetrie magic, but between practice with Radoslav, and her general dislike of the Ruby Court's representative, she resisted.
"Interesting," he said, tasting the word. "She could be of use, you know."
"No," said Radoslav. "She wouldn't know what she would be agreeing to."
"Agreeing to what?" asked Pi.
"Radoslav don't want you to visit his old home. I mean, why would he, after what he did, but that's beside the point," said Slyvan. "But you, you're bound to him. His little loyal mageling. You could go as his representative."
"It's too dangerous. She doesn't know the rules," said Radoslav.
"Then teach her," said Slyvan harshly as he strolled around the room, his boots clicking loudly, heel to toe. "You don't have to come right away. There's plenty of time before the Reaping."
Radoslav's head snapped around. He glanced away, emotion threading through him like steel wires in his limbs were being pulled taut.
"I'll do it," said Pi, overwhelmed with sympathy.
"No," said Radoslav. "It's too dangerous."
Slyvan's lips were peeled back in an obscene grin. His eyes crackled with mirth. "How sweet that he cares for his mageling."
"You know I can handle it, and it sounds like you don't have any other options," said Pi.
Radoslav took a long look at her. The emotionless mask that he normally wore was missing. She saw an old soldier who'd seen far too many battles. He gave one brief nod.
"Excellent," said Slyvan, clapping his hands.
Before she could do anything else, Slyvan appeared at her side and plucked a hair from her head. With dizzying speed, he tied it into a tiny bow and blew on it. The hair hardened into silver.
"With this you promise to be Raddie's sweet little errand girl for the Ruby Court," he said.
"I promise," she said, feeling a tug on her chest, the spell sinking its hook into her.
"She didn't even hesitate. Where did you find this one, Raddie, and are there any more like her? I'd like to get one myself," he said.
Pi concentrated, whispered the word constrict, and touched the bone bracelet on his wrist. Suddenly, the bone carving of a snake was squeezing his wrist. He started yelling and tugging on the bracelet, trying to get it off, but the snake squeezed tighter. Finally, he slammed his arm on the obsidian cube, breaking the carving and releasing his wrist from the bracelet.
His jolly attitude had evaporated to be replaced by searing anger. He pulled back his sleeves and advanced.
Before Pi could even summon her faez, Radoslav intoned, "This is still my fucking bar, so if you touch her, I'll rip Bastone's arms off and beat you with them myself."
Slyvan seemed ready to ignore Radoslav until he saw his face.
"Fine," said Slyvan, the anger disappearing behind a mask of indifference. "But it doesn't change what you promised, mageling. I'll see you in the Ruby Court later. You won't have Raddie to protect you."
The two maetrie disappeared into the portal. As soon as they were gone, the wall turned back to brick.
Radoslav faced her. "You shouldn't have done...well, any of it. Especially that bit with the bracelet, as amusing as it was."
"I didn't like him," she said.
"There's a lot of things I don't like in this world, but I don't go pissing them off, especially when I don't know the score. You may have talent and grit, but if you don't learn a little caution, you're going to have a short life span," he said.
Anger rose in her chest. "I got it. Hubris. Mages. We don't live long. But what about a little thanks? They were going to kill your mother!"
His gray eyes flickered black, then back to gray. "You'll learn soon enough."
"What does that mean?" she asked.
"I'll send for you when it's time to go over," he said.
"Out of curiosity, what would happen if I didn't go?" she asked.
"You'd become their slave for the rest of your short life," he said as he turned to leave.
With Radoslav gone, the room reverted to a storage area filled with cardboard boxes. The stacks of pictures waited.
Pi picked up a frame. The photo was obscured by a thin layer of dust. She couldn't shake the idea that she'd been tricked somehow. Why else would he have placed her in the room before the meeting and then allowed her to stay? Or maybe she was just a little salty from his lack of appreciation for her gesture.
After a while she decided she was just being paranoid. And helping him would be in her best long-term interest. She didn't know for what, but it was always useful to have powerful friends, especially when you didn't have much family.
Chapter Three
A few days after the debacle in the Enochian District, Aurie was headed to Freeport Games. She'd tried to reach Nezumi, but he'd disappeared back into the Undercity, and scrying magic wouldn't penetrate the low-level faez that hovered in the background down there unless she had a specialized trinket like a crystal ball.
Desperate to atone for the disaster, she'd volunteered with Hannah to help out at Freeport Games. Hannah ran role-playing games for kids to help them with making friends. She had a special case she wanted Aurie's help on. When Pi and a few other Arcanium members had found out, they asked to be included. Besides supporting Hannah, Aurie was excited about going to the shop to play a game rather than work.
Aurie had agreed to meet Ernie, Hannah's friend, ahead of time and walk to the shop. Hannah had suggested that as a way to reduce his anxiety about meeting so many people. She'd warned her that his nickname was "Echo" and that he didn't like to be touched. He was supposed to meet her outside of Arcanium, while the rest of the group was waiting at Freeport Games.
Aurie really wasn't paying attention w
hen she crossed the drawbridge leading to the street until a musky plum scent caught her nose.
"And this, my trendy little bitches, is where the magic happens, literally," said Violet Cardwell, eliciting a round of laughter from her pack of fashionable girls. At first Aurie thought they were friends of Violet's from high school, then she saw the Order of Honorable Alchemists pins on their lapels.
"Oh my," said Violet, holding her neon orange fingernails against her chest in faux indignation as she finally noticed Aurie, "this is one of those total blanks that I'm forced to endure in Arcanium."
Suddenly, Aurie was acutely aware of her ratty jeans, plain black T-shirt, and stained sneakers that she'd gotten at Goodwill.
"Excuse me," said Aurie, stepping around them and hoping that Ernie wasn't far behind. She really didn't want to have to linger near Violet any longer than necessary.
Violet spoke to her friends loud enough that Aurie was forced to hear.
"Arcanium is such a bore. There are musty, old, worthless books everywhere. Even the villa I stayed in on the Spanish coast was nicer than this Hall," said Violet, contempt dripping from her lips.
A million pithy insults sprang to Aurie's lips, but she held them back while she craned her head, looking for Ernie. The street was filled with tourists walking or driving by, holding their cell phones up for pictures. Souvenir carts with aggressive hawkers pestered the tourists with miniature plastic versions of Arcanium.
From the crowd on her left, Aurie heard someone mumbling excitedly, "I do not want. I do not want. I do not want."
She found Ernie trying to avoid a short, greasy looking fellow. He was stepping side to side, while the salesman was matching his movements and trying to shove a plastic model into Ernie's hands.
"I suggest you let him past or I'm going to enchant your underwear to give you a permanent wedgie," said Aurie.
When the salesman turned, she could tell he hadn't believed her until his gaze fell upon the Arcanium pin on her T-shirt.
"That's right, asshole, go sell your crap somewhere else," she said.
He disappeared right away, a look of concern imprinted into his forehead.
Aurie held out her hand. "Hey, Ernie. I'm Aurie. Hannah told you about me, right?"
Ernie looked at her hand as if it were a venomous snake, so she let it fall by her side.
"Call me Echo. Call me Echo," he said, glancing nervously at the concrete sidewalk.
"Nice to meet you, Echo," she said, looking up into his chubby face.
He was taller than her, and thick in all his limbs, the kind of weight one gets from playing a lot of video games. He had dirty blond hair and a wolf shirt that most people wore ironically, but she didn't think that was the case for him, especially because he also had a colorful backpack with cartoon ponies on it. He was also around her age, which surprised her. She'd thought that Hannah's friend would be one of the younger kids that frequented the store.
"What is your class?" he asked while staring at his shoes.
"I'm...in Arcanium. We study a lot of things," she said.
Echo squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as if he were in pain. "What class? What class?"
"I...uhm...I don't know—oh wait, you mean in the game. I don't know. I didn't have time to read the stuff Hannah sent me. What do you suggest?" she asked.
Echo brightened at the idea of picking for her. "Every party always needs a cleric. You could be a cleric."
"A cleric? Like I'm leading a congregation? Church thing?" she asked, not liking how it sounded.
He snuck a look up to her face, and smiled briefly. "Cleric like a doctor. Like Golden Willow. A healer."
"Did you know I worked there?" she asked.
He nodded, as if it were an important secret. "Hannah told me. I like Golden Willow."
Aurie took a second look at him. Had he been in the hospital when she worked there and didn't realize it? She didn't think so, or at least not on the Children's Floor for the Irrevocably Cursed, Magically Ailing, and Supernatural Virology.
"A cleric it is. Let's get moving. The rest of the group is at Freeport," she said.
The number of people in the area seemed to bother him based on his rapid eye movements. As he nodded and moved to follow, a voice interrupted them.
"Am I witnessing a date? Look at this, girls, we have a first date," said Violet.
Echo froze as the squad of girls approached, surrounding him. Aurie tugged on his arm, but the sudden and overwhelming direct interaction shut him down.
"This isn't the time for games, Violet," said Aurie.
Violet ignored Aurie and stepped to Echo. She put a finger under his chin and made him look at her. His lips writhed from her contact.
"Is something wrong with him?" asked Violet. "Are you so desperate to have a date that you'll pick someone who's this stupid?"
A kernel of anger formed in Aurie's chest, like a flame catching dry tinder in a rain-starved forest. It'd been a long summer, working unhealthy hours. This was the last thing she wanted to deal with, and it took a supreme effort to contain the wildfire she wanted to unleash.
"Violet. I know we haven't always gotten along. But please, step aside. This is my friend, and we're going to play some games," said Aurie, reaching out to pull Violet away.
Violet smacked her hand, and the Alchemist girls snickered. Aurie knew that look in her eyes. Violet was proving herself to her new friends. Aurie had been on the receiving end of this ritual at many a school and had learned to ignore it, but she knew Echo wasn't equipped for Violet's machinations. She needed to extricate Echo from the young socialite before something happened.
"What's your name?" asked Violet.
"His name is Ernie," said Aurie, trying to step between them, then under her breath to Violet, she said, "Please. Let this one go. We're leaving now."
Violet's long fingernails latched onto Aurie's arm. "Why should I? Last year, you tackled me, enchanted me with sleep, and after failing miserably in the verum locus, still got top grades in the class. I know your kind, and I know how you're getting by, and I won't stand for it."
Unleashing her rage would feel so good, and she nearly did, until she saw Echo's quivering lower lip and darting eyes. He looked ready to run.
Aurie lashed that anger down with steel ropes. It took every bit of her self-control. She calmly placed her hand on top of Violet's and tugged it off.
"We're leaving now," said Aurie.
A snicker, followed by a rubber stopper being popped from a vial, made Aurie spin around. The other girls had their hands behind their backs.
She suspected something was about to happen and moved to pull Echo away, but they cut her off. Their exaggerated smiling masks were caricatures of deceit.
While Aurie was still on the drawbridge, she was on Arcanium property, so she didn't think they would do anything too overt. But she also didn't want her hair turned to snakes or something like that.
After she caught a whiff of solvent, Aurie pointed at them. "Back the hell up, or I'm roasting the eyebrows off you skinny bitches."
The look of victory on Violet's face, followed by a sloppy wet sound, like a plunger in a toilet, gave Aurie only a moment's warning.
The books in Echo's backpack crashed onto the drawbridge in a pile of goop. His gaming books, loose papers, and other materials were covered in a green slime.
A horrible wail exited his lips as he fell to his knees. "Noooo! Noooo! Noooo!" He sounded like a warning siren.
Whatever control she had evaporated, seeing Echo crouched on his knees, his precious things ruined. The bevy of girls were laughing, pointing at Echo and her. The whole spectacle was heartbreaking. She'd been tasked with easing Echo into a social group as a favor, but Violet had destroyed that, destroyed the poor guy's fragile hold on the world.
Aurie wanted to lay into Violet and her friends, decimate them with a litany of insults, but a sudden rage gummed up her works, followed by a surge of faez, and as she looked at those perfect girls i
n their designer things and how they had been so callous and cruel, the only thing she said was: "Ragged!"
Later, Aurie recalled that she was thinking of how the bottom of Echo's backpack had been turned to slime. She'd wanted to enact petty revenge by making their purses or hemlines snap a few threads, or make the fabric shift, giving the clothing a thrift store look, ruining its value—not that they all couldn't afford it.
But that's not what happened.
After she said the word, she felt a sudden letdown from the intense usage of faez. She'd funneled far too much magic into the spell, which wasn't truth magic, but felt something akin.
When threads on the straps on a girl's purse just sort of jumped off, as if they were tiny worms springing to life, a collective gasp—Aurie included—went up. A few of the girls had devious grins, as if they thought some long-held grudge had been served in the chaos. At least until the threads fled from their purses in a spray of confetti.
But the initial threads had been the steam leaking out before the explosion. In an instant, the rest exploded off their clothing, like fibrous fireworks, tiny strands floating in the air afterwards as if a cloud of insects had descended.
The carnage set their expressions on kill. Aurie couldn't decide if she should grab Echo's hand and run, or flee back into Arcanium.
Sharp ozone burned her nostrils as magic filled the air, but before one spell could be cast, their clothes just fell off. Without the threads, the cloth, leather, polyester, or whatever they were wearing had nothing to bind them together. Their clothing fell away in sheets, like skin sloughing off a molting serpent, and then not one of them was worried about revenge, but covering themselves.
Aurie was vaguely aware that foot and automobile traffic had stopped. Tourists liked to walk or drive by Arcanium, and Aurie had gotten used to little hands pointing out of car windows at the building that was a cross between a monastery and Notre Dame, but now the throng was several deep with dozens of cell phones held high to record. Like naked birds taking flight, Violet and her pack of Alchemist friends fled down the street, the cell phones following them like sunflowers following the sun.
Aurie flipped Echo's backpack upside down and shoved the fallen books inside, ignoring the green goo clinging to her hands. Then she helped Echo up, being careful not to touch him too long.
Web of Lies (The Hundred Halls Book 2) Page 3
