Magic Rising Read online

  “How did that work out with being a warlock?”

  “Awkward. I prefer working the land.”

  “What is it you grow anyway? I never figured that out.”

  He gave me a surprised look. “Herbs, mostly. Livestock is a pain and arable farming isn’t what it used to be. I grow organic vegetables and fruit in the greenhouses. I’ve just sold a quantity of the herbs to your friend, Seren. Someone has to make the stuff for spells.”

  “You’re too butch to be an herb farmer.” I laughed.

  “Yeah, well, someone has to do it and I like it. Daniel’s been a big help. He and Bree both have.”

  Daniel blushed at Bree’s name and I hip-bumped him. “So it’s like that, is it?”

  “Nothing’s going on,” Daniel told me, adding, “Yet.”

  “I like her.” Daniel deserved happiness and I liked the nymph, Bree.

  “Will Evan be here tomorrow?” asked Anders as he steered us towards an empty table. We sat and I slipped my heels off under the table, now that no one could see me.

  “No. He’s out of town on business. Etoile said that only a small number of the other races are invited and I guess Evan wasn’t included. He’s not big on politics.”

  “I meant as your date.”

  “Oh, well, no, not that either. Are we supposed to bring dates?”

  “I am.” Anders looked smug for a minute.

  “Who?” I prodded. “You’ve been here how many days?”

  “Astra.” I think I paled because he said, “I know everything that happened.”

  “Then you know she’s… well…” How could I politely say “mentally unbalanced”?

  “I’m aware that she made a lot of bad decisions,” Anders said. “She told me last night.”

  “Well, okay, just…”

  “Be careful. I know. It’s just a date,” he assured me.

  “But you and Daniel look so good together,” I teased, and they both rolled their eyes. We sat together a little longer. Daniel’s worries about Georgia spilling the unpleasant details of his family history — our family history, I reminded myself — evaporated into a burst of confidence when a young witch passed by and smiled at him.

  “Kids,” said Anders as Daniel took off after her. Perhaps I was wrong about how much he liked Bree. Or maybe she didn’t like him back in that way.

  “Yeah, and you’re so much older.”

  “I am. I’m old enough to be his father. Well, nearly.” Anders signalled to a waiter who approached. He ordered wine for us both. “Sorry, I should have asked,” he said when the waiter returned a moment later with two glasses.

  “Wine’s fine,” I replied. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something. I heard about a talisman that piqued my curiosity. Apparently, it used to belong to a pack of werewolves, and then it somehow got into a witch’s hands. I heard it might be here and I was interested in seeing it. I know you have some wolf friends. Have you heard anything about it?”

  “No, but I haven’t had a chance to meet many of our brethren yet. Do you want me to ask?”

  “No, it’s not important,” I told him, purposefully keeping my tone light. “Just let me know if you hear anything? I’d like to speak to the witch who has it. Of course, it might just be a rumour,” I finished.

  “Sure.” He drummed his fingers on the table lightly, as though there was something on his mind that preoccupied him. I waited. “Do you want to talk about the trial?” he asked.

  By this time, I’d sipped half the glass of wine and was feeling pleasantly warm and sociable. The reminder of the trial wasn’t helpful, but unavoidable, and I knew plenty of other people were talking about it. Besides, I had no qualms in discussing it with Anders, who was my friend. That he was a powerful ally didn’t escape my notice.

  “I’m glad it’s over,” I told him, the relief in my voice evident, even to me. “I wish it hadn’t happened. And I feel very sorry for Mrs. Dorling because I can only imagine how much grief she has endured. She apologised to me afterwards and I think she was embarrassed.”

  “You have a kind heart, Stella.”

  That warmed me more than the wine. “Thank you.”

  “We all saw from your mind what happened that day. You made a big impression.”

  I knew that, of course, from the subtle glances I’d been receiving all evening. It seemed everyone wanted to see the woman who ended the malevolent path of their most recent Leader’s wife. A number of the faces were certainly more sympathetic now than they were at the trial. All the same, I didn’t want to be known as the “slayer.” That seemed like an awfully big reputation to carry around. I couldn’t be certain it was helping Etoile any, but when she had made no attempts to hide me away, as if I were an embarrassing relative, she proved that she had no problem being associated with me and did not think there was any stain on my character.

  It didn’t escape my notice that between my ridiculous trial and her sniper wound, we both seemed to be gaining a lot of sympathy. Already, two people had approached me and praised my composure while expressing shock at the viciousness of Eleanor’s actions, her crimes now very much public knowledge. That Etoile could consider me to be an asset to her candidacy was a revelation, though not particularly a shocking one. If Georgia had orchestrated this to show Etoile up, I was glad it backfired. I wasn’t naive enough to think that a bullet wound would pull in enough sympathy votes for Etoile to win by a long shot, but I knew it wasn’t doing her any harm either. Again, I wondered if the two events were connected. Aside from that, what my friends thought of me was more important than what strangers drew from the past events.

  “How did Daniel react to what he saw?” I asked.

  “He was sad for you,” Anders said, his thumb and forefinger running the length of the wine stem. “And impressed too. You don’t have to worry about him.”

  “It’s nice to have someone to worry about.”

  “He said the same thing. You look pensive,” Anders observed. “Missing home?”

  “Yes. I miss my house. I’ve taken a few days off work and I have a paper to write when I get home,” I told him. Then I coloured, realising he probably meant home as in England. I asked him if that was what he meant, and he just shrugged.

  “Home is where you make it,” he said. “Etoile seems well, considering.”

  “She healed fast. She probably won’t need the sling in a day or two,” I replied. “We don’t know who did it.”

  “I bet you have your suspicions.” We both watched Georgia crossing the floor, flashing bright smiles for anyone who glanced her way. We shared a knowing look. “See the woman by the bar? That’s Shazia Halpern. She wrote a book on symbolism. Most humans think she’s just a history professor with an interest in the occult. If anyone knows about this talisman you’re interested in, she would.” The only woman at the bar was an African-American woman, around my height, with beautifully braided hair that hung to her waist and swung whenever she moved. She looked across at us, as if she heard her name and nodded to Anders. He smiled back, and after a moment, so did she. “Tell her I said hello, if you go and talk with her.”

  “You’re not going to say hello?”

  “No. The last time I did, we ended up in bed for two days.”

  “I didn’t need to know that.” I turned from Shazia and glanced at Astra who stood with Seren and David. She seemed animated. “I wouldn’t say that within earshot of Astra. A girl doesn’t want to know the boy she likes has an ex in the room.”

  “We never got to the point of being ‘on’ never mind ‘ex,’ but duly noted. You really think Astra is dangerous?” He toyed with the glass as he spoke, not looking at me.

  “I don’t know. I think she has problems and I think you have a thing for girls with problems,” I said, referring to his previous girlfriend. She was a woman he’d personally excommunicated for betraying us to the Brotherhood.

  “Do not,” argued Anders. “I have a thing for pretty witches. Besides, you’re the one who’s dat
ing a daemon.”

  “Living with, not just dating,” I said, because for some reason, I wanted to reinforce the non-casual nature of our relationship. I had the burning, and no doubt, fruitless urge to check my phone again. I didn’t give in to it. My phone was inside my little clutch bag, currently sitting in my lap, and it hadn’t vibrated once. It would take a lot of willpower to not leave a very annoyed message for Evan later. “Thanks for pointing Shazia out. I’ll try and talk to her.”

  After Anders took his leave, it took an hour of circling and making polite conversation before I came face-to-face with the history professor. By that time, my feet hurt in the too-high heels, my head was swelling from the compliments about my composure, and I was ready to go home and escape the spotlight that had been unwittingly cast over me.

  “I wondered if we would be introduced.” Shazia held her hand out to me. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Estrella.”

  “Stella, please. No one calls me by my full name. My friend tells me you’re a professor of the occult,” I began and she smiled as we moved onto familiar ground, for her anyway.

  “I see my reputation precedes me. Who is your friend?”

  I looked around for Anders, and saw him conversing with Steven. “Anders Black,” I told her.

  She chuckled as she flicked one of her long braids over her shoulder, but didn’t make any comment on their relationship. Instead, she said, “Occultism is more a personal interest that complements my job teaching history. The two things sit well with being a witch.”

  “Actually, I wanted to ask you about that. Anders thought you might be able to answer a question I had. Well, it’s more of a query.”

  “I’ll do my best. Shall we sit? Your face tells me your heels are much the same as mine: glamorous, but not at all comfortable.”

  The guests had largely moved towards the dance floor, leaving many of the surrounding tables free, so we took one and sat with our backs to the wall, watching the dancers.

  “Tell me about your query.”

  “A friend of mine mentioned a talisman. Apparently, it once belonged to werewolves at some point and depicts the story of their evolution. My friend heard a witch might have it with her during the Summit and I wanted to see it. I’m curious.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve never seen a werewolf talisman before,” I said, keeping it simple.

  Shazia seemed to accept that because she said, “You definitely came to the right person. I’m often asked to appraise artefacts that are supernatural in origin.”

  “Have you seen this one?”

  “Do you know what it looks like?”

  “It’s has four sides, each with a stage of the moon cycle. I don’t know much more than that. Sorry.”

  “Nothing to apologise for. I haven’t been approached by anyone with such a thing and I haven’t seen it either.”

  “Oh.” Disappointment flooded me. I truly hoped that Shazia might solve the question of the talisman. If nothing else, I’d be able to let Annalise know that it actually existed.

  “Don’t look so disappointed. I have another idea. There’s a library on the seventeenth floor. It’s probably empty at this time,” she added with a knowing look. “They have an interesting section on werewolf history. I recall some books on artefacts and symbolism. Perhaps you’ll find some information in one of those.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m curious about something. Did your friend say what this artefact is for?”

  “No. Just a historical thing, I think.”

  “Hmm.” She looked thoughtful.

  “You don’t think that’s it?” I asked.

  Shazia shrugged. “I’ve studied werewolves — such a fascinating race — and they aren’t particularly attached to talismans, not like we witches are. Symbolism is a different story. They love their moons.” She leaned forward and waved to a woman. “You’ll have to forgive me for ending this talk so abruptly, but I want to speak to my sister before she leaves.” She extracted a card from her pocket and held it out to me. “Why don’t we talk some other time? If you’re really interested in supernatural artefacts.”

  I tucked the card into my purse. “Thank you, and thanks for your time.”

  With all my friends otherwise occupied, and my curiosity still piqued, I slipped from the room and made my way towards the elevators. Seeing the line, I walked past and pushed the door to the stairwell open. I stepped out of my heels, picked them up and started the short walk upstairs to the library Shazia mentioned. As I walked onto the half-platform, Micah materialised next to me and I jumped, my hand flying to my throat.

  “Where did you come from?”

  “More importantly, where are you going?” I inclined my head upstairs and Micah fell into step beside me. “You were supposed to call me if you left the party,” he said. “I’m your bodyguard.”

  “I haven’t left. I’m just taking an excursion.”

  “Where to?”

  “The library.”

  “Why?”

  I gave him a withering look. “To look at a book.”

  “Lead on.”

  “Have you heard from Evan yet?” I asked as we passed the next door and carried on upwards. I had my skirt hitched upwards so I wouldn’t trip on it. Between that, my purse and heels, my hands were full.

  When Micah hesitated, I stopped and fixed a look on him. “I have not heard anything from him in two days,” he admitted.

  “Is that unusual?”

  “Yes.”

  “Maybe you should look for him?” I started, and after a couple of steps, he sped up to join me.

  “My orders are to remain with you, and you are here. Evan does not like having his orders disobeyed.”

  “What if he needs your help?” Or mine? I thought, but didn’t say it.

  “He is daemon,” Micah said, giving me a perplexed look.

  “Even daemons need help sometimes.”

  “Not this one.”

  “But you are concerned?”

  “Yes,” he conceded.

  “Me too.”

  “He will be fine. Do not worry.”

  “Easy to say when no one seems to know where he is, or why he hasn’t been in touch with you or me.” I yanked the door open before Micah could say anything to scrub over my worries, and eased my aching feet back into my heels. A small plaque on the wall opposite listed the various rooms on the floor. I turned to the left and followed the arrow pointing towards the library.

  The doors were closed when we got there, which shouldn’t have surprised me, given the hour, and the lights were off. I tried the handle, but the door didn’t move. “It’s locked,” I said, my shoulders dropping.

  Micah tried the door and it opened easily. He smiled. “Not anymore.”

  “This is breaking and entering.”

  “Do you want the book or not?”

  I really did. And I wasn’t sure I should check it out during regular hours, without arousing curiosity, especially with all eyes on me. If the talisman were stolen, I didn’t want to attract attention by having any interest in it. Especially now when my every move would no doubt be noticed by someone. “Fine,” I said as I stepped in. He followed and closed the door.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Werewolves.” He raised an eyebrow at that, but didn’t make any retort. The room was massive. It looked a lot like a regular library with worn rugs over wooden floors and stacks beyond stacks of books, some of which looked ancient. It would take hours to search every one. Fortunately, I only had to find one section and I could only hope it was a small one. “Let’s split up. I’ll go this way. You go there. Shout if you find the werewolf bit.” I took off, checking the shelves for the small bronze disc that was printed with the sections. I found potions first, and moved past that to spellcraft, then onto dark magic, an area that chilled me to the bone. There were huge tomes on the fae, and others on mysticism. Vampires looked like a bundle of fun, but I moved past that, promising myself
that I would spend more time here in the future. Towards the back of the room, I found the werewolf section, two rows running side-by-side, each one, six shelves deep. “Hey, Micah, I…” My voice trailed into a frightened squeak as a hand clamped over my mouth.

  “Shh!” Micah whispered against my ear. “We are not alone.” He released my mouth, but remained close to my back.

  “So?” I mouthed at him, but he held a finger to his lips and pointed in the direction of the doors. We held very still. Then I heard what he heard. Footsteps, at least two sets, moving towards the centre of the library, their conversation muffled. They must have entered shortly after us.

  “What is it?” asked an annoyed male voice. “If you need to talk, do so now.”

  “I thought I heard something,” replied a lighter, female one.

  “It’s nothing. The building is old and creaks. What of the plan?”

  Someone heaved a sigh. “We’ll try again tomorrow.”

  “When?”

  “After the ball.”

  “It’s too risky.”

  “Everyone will be preoccupied. It will be easy to take the shot,” the female argued.

  “It could go wrong again.”

  “It won’t. It will be enough to make sure everyone panics. And while they panic, we’ll win. You know we will.”

  I edged closer, my hands holding onto the shelves for support. These people could be responsible for the attempt on Etoile‘s life, and I had to get a closer look at them. This might be the only lead we got. Even better, if I could catch Georgia in the act of plotting another shooting, I could warn someone. The very least my sudden popularity could avail me was to make someone at the Council listen to me.

  “Etoile has too much…” the man began.

  “Shh! Did you hear that?” the woman interrupted.

  I stopped, and my heart thudded in my chest. Micah pointed at my shoes. They must have heard my heels against the floor. As carefully and quietly as I could, I slipped them off. The footsteps started to move and Micah grabbed my hand. With a tug, he pulled me after him. In a half crouch, we shuffled to the end of the row, rounding it and running for the dark shade of the rear corner. We melted into the shadows, keeping our bodies small. I thought about using magic to surround us in a protective bubble, but realised Micah had already thought of that and discounted it. Any magic might send out a trace to another witch, and the last thing we needed was to be discovered.