The ring held powerful shielding magic. A don’t-notice-me kind of charm. The thin band of tarnished copper would never catch another witch’s eye.
I looked up at Raynor, who nodded. “Put it on,” he said.
“This was why you came in person,” I said. There were easier ways to communicate.
He nodded.
After another quick scan, I decided it was safe and slipped it on my pinkie finger. It was too small to fit on any of my others. “I don’t feel anything,” I said after a moment.
“That’s the idea,” he said. “Neither will Bosko.” He held up his own hand.
It was too dark to see, so I cast a light spell again and peered at his big fingers. Lots of gold, platinum, silver, several stones, a tattoo. But there, mixed in between the others, was a sister ring to the one I wore. I never would’ve sensed it if I hadn’t been looking directly for it.
Excellent magic. I smiled, relieved and grateful. “Thank you. Where did you get them?”
He cleared his throat, gesturing at my glow spell, and I extinguished it. At this point, if anyone was out there looking for us, they could just follow the blinking lights in the forest, but I didn’t want to argue with a powerful witch who had just given me a present.
“There was only one originally. I melted it down and cast it into two.” He exhaled, crossing his arms over his chest.
I was touched. “Thank you.”
“It’s purely selfish on my part,” he said. “If you’re exposed, the trail points directly to me. They’ll wonder why I recruited you after your dismissal. What did I know and when did I know it? How about Darius Ironford? Rochelle? Keeping you incognito is necessary for many of my plans, and possibly my job.”
“And your life,” I said. “You saw how Bosko took out Vera without any silly Protectorate inquiry, self-defense, due process—”
“The demon was about to form a ceremonial bond with a witch,” he said. “Bosko had the license to act immediately.”
The Circle was an ancient magic, giving all rites a more powerful bond that modern witches didn’t understand. The possessing demon might have had reasons we could only imagine for bonding with a witch in a Circle. Could my own ancestor have been a victim of such a rite?
“What’s to stop him from doing the same with one of us?” I asked.
“This is why you should leave California immediately,” he said.
“First Silverpool, now the entire state?”
“You should avoid New York, too.” He ran his hand over his scalp. “Why not find a quiet cottage in the middle of nowhere—”
“I already have a quiet cottage in the middle of nowhere,” I said.
“Without a wellspring. You don’t even like springwater. Why stay here?”
“I like it. It feels right.” But the truth was harder to explain. I’d come after my disgrace in the Protectorate in part because Tristan Price, the former Protector, had been supportive. Magic infused the land, flora, and fauna, attracting fae. There were also witches here, but it was remote. It was remote, but San Francisco wasn’t too far away. And the redwood trees… they’d called to me. I didn’t want to live without them.
“It’s going to feel wrong very, very soon,” Raynor said. “That ring will buy you a little time, but he’s persistent. And, as you’ve noticed, likes to kill things. Swear to me you’ll leave within the week.”
“But—”
“Swear it, or I take the ring back.” He held up his hand, fingers splayed, and I felt a sizzle of power in the copper band around my pinkie.
“Wait, just—” I began. The ring twisted and began sliding up my finger. “Wait!”
“Swear it.”
I fisted my hand to slow the ring’s departure and buy myself a few seconds to think. Was there a way I could protect myself from Bosko without the ring? If I refused to shake his hand, he and his assistants would turn all his powers of detection on me. Herbs and other hearth magic would probably work with a weaker witch, but he was strong and had methods and tools I could only imagine.
Just because I left within the week didn’t mean I couldn’t come back. My gut told me Bosko wouldn’t stay in Silverpool for years, let alone decades. But was it just wishful thinking? Wishes had gotten me into enough trouble lately.
All I could do was live in the present moment with the circumstances as they were. Meeting Raynor’s gaze, I felt a bonding spell flare into life. “I swear it,” I said. “I’ll leave within a week of Bosko coming to town.”
“And you’ll stay away,” Raynor added.
That vow I would not make. “While he’s here, I’ll stay away.”
His brow furrowed. “The Protectorship is a lifetime appointment.”
“In theory,” I said. “We can’t see the future.” Even with magic, it was useless to try.
“Don’t count on him leaving anytime soon. He pulled a lot of strings to get this position. I don’t know why, but Kurt Bosko really wants to be in Silverpool.”
I inhaled a deep breath. “Yeah. Me too.”
Chapter Sixteen
It was almost two in the morning when I got back to Silverpool and knocked on Seth’s door. I’d thought his fairy senses would’ve warned him somehow to be waiting for me, but it took him five minutes to hear my knock and finally open up and peer at me outside in the dark. His face was as sleepy and confused as any human’s.
“I know you’ll ignore me like all the other times,” I said, “but a really bad guy is coming to Silverpool as the new Protector, and I thought you should know as soon as possible.”
He yawned. “Really bad guy,” he said, nodding. “Got it.”
“His name’s Kurt Bosko,” I added.
“Right.” He nodded again, leaning against the door with his eyes half-closed.
His lack of reaction annoyed me. “He killed the woman who was marrying my dad because the opal ring told him she was a demon,” I said. “Day before yesterday. Maybe you heard about that?”
His eyes snapped open all the way. “Sorry. That must’ve been stressful.”
“It was kinda.”
“And now they’re sending him here to find more demons, I assume,” he said.
“Aren’t you worried? Why aren’t you worried?”
“None of this is news,” he said. “This is what the Protectorate does. There’s a wellspring down the street. Tristan has been dead for months. They were bound to send somebody eventually. I’m just surprised they waited this long—but that’s probably your doing.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I don’t want you to do anything for me, Alma. Please. It’s hard enough carrying the burden of one human life.” He opened the door, inviting me inside. “You look like you need a drink.”
“I can’t come in. From now on, I’m going to stay as far away from you as I can. It’s the least I can do for you, which is more than you want, but tough. They’re probably following me. My father’s reckless lifestyle strikes again.” I felt warm, tired tears pool in my eyes. “I have to leave Silverpool.”
He pulled me inside and closed the door. “I’m sorry,” he said. “He’s got the opal ring?”
“Not at the moment, but he’ll probably get it at some point,” I said.
“Then it sounds like you don’t have a choice,” he said. “You can’t risk running into him. When does he get here?”
“I don’t know. Any day now.” I couldn’t muster the panic I should’ve had. It just didn’t feel real.
“What are you doing here? You should be packing up right now.”
“That’s what Raynor said.” I looked down at the ring on my hand. “We worked out something to protect me for a while. I’ll be fine. It’s you who needs to worry.”
He followed my gaze and stared silently for a moment. “There’s something there on your finger, isn’t there?”
“You can’t see it?”
He shook his head. “Barely. It’s… brass?”
“Copper.”
“Neat,” he said. “Raynor has his uses.”
I felt a surge of affection for Seth, who was willing to say a kind word about a Protectorate agent whose career had been founded on killing supernatural creatures just like himself. “You could borrow it,” I said impulsively. “When you need to leave home—”
He scowled. “Then you would be exposed.”
“Only temporarily. I can avoid them. If they scan you once and determine you’re not a threat—”
“Alma, why? Why do you feel the need to protect me?” he demanded, fully awake now. “You’ve ruined your career, risked your life, and seem compelled, no matter the cost to yourself, to protect me. Why? You’re a witch, not a—” He cut himself off and stared at me.
“It’s not what you think,” I said quickly. He had a long history of flirting with me and was probably going to suggest I was in love with him. I did have feelings for him, but I didn’t think it was romantic. He was only joking, anyway.
“I’m having that urge again,” Seth said. “The one where I want to crawl into your lap and purr.”
“Now I really know I have to leave,” I said, reaching for the door.
He blocked me. “Your ancestry. It’s what drives you to sacrifice yourself, for me in particular. Powerful spirit beings have always been fond of the fae. My mother used to tell stories about angels who were as nurturing of us as demons were… hungry.”
“Right, I’m an angel,” I said with a snort. I didn’t pretend to understand all the subtleties of creation, but I was sure of my own imperfections.
“One of your ancestors was possessed by something similar, at least briefly,” he said. “That’s my theory.”
I was just starting to accept I had a demon ancestor. Now an angel? I wanted to believe such Bright creatures existed, and I would love to meet other demons who didn’t want to possess innocent people and make kebabs out of every wood sprite they met, but I didn’t have enough evidence. One thing I knew, however, was that I was too imperfect—too human—to consider myself one of them.
Seth was just teasing me again.
I nudged past him and opened the door. “Theories are cheap. I’m going home to shore up my wards. You should do the same.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve offended you,” he said. “I meant it as a compliment.”
“I’m a human being. A witch. Just because I’m a little different from average doesn’t mean there’s some big weird secret about me.” Big weird secrets were dangerous. It meant powerful witches like Kurt Bosko might want to kill you, and others would fire you from your job, and genies would grant wishes and demand unaffordable prices. It meant you were alone in the world, forced from the only real home you’d ever had in your life.
I strode away without another word and quickly strengthened the boundary spells around my house, extending them into the yard—and then, with a little spite, around Seth’s property as well. I was more powerful than I’d been a year ago; I could feel it. I used to have to scan my own front door before I entered, once finding my father had broken in, but now I didn’t have to. Could it be something about Willy? Or my advancing years? The alternative explanation was less pleasant: the deaths of other witches, fae, and supernatural beings who had crossed me—and died—had deepened my personal well of magic. I hadn’t intentionally killed anyone, but there had been deaths. Tattoos had appeared on my arm. And now I was stronger.
Did I really have to leave Silverpool? Maybe I was strong enough to stay. There was the vow to Raynor, but I could negotiate a compromise if I convinced him Bosko wasn’t a threat to me. The opal was locked up, he’d be occupied with Protectorate duties, and I had centralized a tremendous amount of power here at my house to protect myself, more every day. And if Bosko did somehow shake my unprotected hand and expose me as having the demon mark, the most likely thing he would do would be to expel me from Silverpool—so why jump the gun and do his work for him?
I went to bed hopeful but woke before dawn in a cold sweat. The dark ceiling seemed low, pressing down on me, and the walls felt too close and creeping closer. I got out of bed and dressed quickly, craving fresh air.
Something was coming. My hair stood on end, and every creak of the floorboards made me touch my focus string. When the sun finally broke over the treetops to the east, I picked up Random’s leash and took him out for his morning walk through Silverpool, resisting the idea it might be one of our last.
Given my nerves, I was prepared for the Protectorate to visit me, but when Random and I returned from our walk, the witch standing at the end of my driveway was an old friend.
Well, that’s what my father had called her right before she’d ensnared him in an arrest spell for Kurt Bosko to take him into custody after the execution of his bride.
I pulled the leash tight so Random couldn’t greet Flor with his usual warmth. He was too friendly. She didn’t deserve it. “What are you doing here?” I asked coldly.
She was wearing an official black-and-silver Protectorate sweater. Archivists, her former position, only wore civilian clothing. The hair bow in her helmet-shaped bob was still there, though. Today’s was red velvet.
She put her hands on her hips and frowned at the overgrown botany of my front yard. “I understand if you’re a little annoyed, but you can’t be seriously angry. You’ve got to admit I had no choice. Some of us can’t afford to turn down an opportunity when it literally falls at our feet.”
“You arrested him while his bride’s corpse was still warm.”
Flor snorted. “Warm? She was on fire. Because she was a demon.”
“My father invited you into his home. He was your host. Talk about a breach of protocol.”
“He’s been released,” she said. “Let’s not overreact.”
“I’ll act however I want.” I scratched Random behind the ears, fondly remembering how, when in dragon form, he’d been able to blast things with his fire breath. It was safer I didn’t know how to command him to do that. “So. Bosko took you on as his apprentice. You’re on your way to having that life of meaning you’ve always wanted. Congratulations.”
“Thank you. I don’t think you’re really angry. You always did hide your goodness under sarcasm.” Before I could correct her, she continued, “But I’m not quite his apprentice. Not yet. That position is filled at the moment. I’m in line to fill it when Percival moves on.”
“You’re just a Flint flunky?”
“I don’t have a title. You may refer to me as his assistant.”
I opened my mouth to tell her I didn’t plan on referring to her as anything because I was leaving town, especially now that she was there, but I stopped myself in time. Sleep deprivation, even with herbal remedies, made my tongue too loose. “His app is here in Silverpool too?”
She shook her head. “He’s coming later. I came with Protector Bosko at dawn. He said it would make the right impression.”
“That he has a sleep disorder?”
“That he means business.” She turned to look at my house—into which I was not going to invite her—then back to me. “I’m only here for the wellspring, Alma. With it so close, I can research the fae as I’ve always dreamed. Some of them will let me see them—new, wild ones who have never been studied by researchers before. I can compile the research to write fresh and exciting theories. And with Kurt Bosko’s name on my dissertation, some people will actually read it. That will be the start of me making a name for me and my children’s children’s children.”
What a fanatic. She and Bosko were meant for each other. “Don’t you think you’re getting ahead of yourself?”
She smiled. “Maybe. I don’t care. Big goals take planning.” She walked past me toward the street, patting my shoulder. “I just wanted to say hi. Clear the air. We’ll come by for a real check-in later.”
I promptly sent an erasing spell to the patch on my arm she’d touched. “Interrogation, you mean.”
“Not at all. There probably won’t be much talking required. Jus
t a scan or two.” She waved and kept walking down the street.
It was then I realized she’d come on foot. The winery, where the Protector and his staff lived, was just over a mile away on the other side of the Vago River.
It was smart to walk. Easier to sneak up on the unwary. I vowed to keep a sharp eye out for doll-headed pedestrians from now on.
Chapter Seventeen
Deciding Flor and Bosko would be busy at the winery on their first day, I took a nap on my living room couch, holding my magic staff. It was a rough-hewn piece of lumber I’d carved from a broken beam in my attic, holding a fragment of the power I’d infused in my home. A witch’s house contained, expanded, nurtured, and amplified her innate power—as long as she was in it. If I held the staff while I was inside the boundaries of my property, it was powerful, enabling me to lift bodies and blast hexes. Away from home, unfortunately, it lost most of its strength, although I was working on expanding its radius. It was now able to light a match a mile from home.
Maybe the comfort of the warm wood, vibrating softly, would help me rest. My sleep hygiene had been poor lately, and I needed to recharge. Random didn’t join me, instead choosing the tile of the kitchen floor, which was both pleasingly cool after his long walk and gave him first dibs on any intruders.
We were both on edge. He’d learned to dislike any stranger I didn’t let into the house. If Flor ever came back to see me, he’d bark at her. We had an excellent system.
The next time Flor wanted my attention, however, she simply texted. It was around two in the afternoon.
Come at highest moon, she wrote. The Protector wants to talk to you.
I pretended not to see the text right away, but I couldn’t ignore the summons.
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