The Lost Magic, page 11
Priscilla.
Gently, I reached up and plucked it from the air. My eyes felt bleary and hot from a sleepless night filled with dreams of fire. I yawned as I tapped the paper wings twice so that they unfolded in my palm.
Priscilla’s handwriting filled the inside.
Bianca,
* * *
I have arrived at your cottage safely and, I believe, undetected. I transported several places in Letum Wood, and moved around enough, I doubt anyone followed. The castle lay quiet when I left, and it would be at least twelve hours before anyone would discover my departure. Niko has no idea, I believe.
Considering how you and I parted last time, I’m concerned. There is no sign of you having been here. Are things well? Are you all right with your new friend?
Thank you again for everything. I will go to see Michelle soon. Let me know how I can assist you while you’re helping your Papa with the Celebration. I anticipate your return home. It’s . . . very quiet here.
Please destroy this, just to be safe.
* * *
Yours,
Priscilla
A thousand questions streamed through my sleepy head. How did she feel after leaving the East? Was it hard to untangle herself from Magnolia castle without suspicion? Unlikely, with Niko gone. The staff tended to love her. But still . . . her life had been decidedly more complicated the past several weeks. I hoped it hadn’t been too difficult.
Relief that she was somewhere safe overpowered my questions. I blinked out of sleep, read the letter one more time, then tossed it into the fire. The edges curled in the flame, burning to ash in red lines of fire before collapsing all at once in a flash of heat.
Dawn hinted on the horizon, leaving a burgeoning world below. With my head tangled in thoughts of Niko, Priscilla, and the Declan language, I wouldn’t be able to relax back to sleep anytime soon. Instead, I pulled on my day dress, ran a comb through my hair, and headed for the door. A flash of movement caught my eye at the window. I glanced through the thick glass panes to see someone walking across the rolling, grassy hillside that separated the forest from the castle. The manicured gardens of Chatham Castle, known for their creative beauty, shimmered through the fog.
My heart hiccuped. I’d know that graceful figure anywhere.
Merrick.
Although it had been two years since I’d seen him as anything more than a vague figure on the Wall to avoid, those broad shoulders and that sandy hair were still as familiar as anything I’d ever known. His hair was longer, pulled in a queue out of his face. I couldn’t see details, but I could picture flushed red cheeks and a bright, white-toothed smile. The same smile that would appear seconds before he captured me in a soul-shaking kiss.
My thoughts dissolved all at once. I could only stare as he strode across the rolling green hills of the Chatham gardens below. Mist collected over the ground, swirling in his wake. He moved like an otherworldly god, and flashes of memory exploded in my head like bright candles.
Running.
His lips on mine.
The smell of the forest on his skin.
With a sharp breath, I turned away from the window and banished those thoughts. No, I thought. Go away.
My heart pooled in my belly and flopped around like a useless thing. Merrick. Merrick, who had to leave. Merrick, who had broken my heart.
Merrick, who . . . came back?
He came for the Celebration, of course, to help protect Geralyn. Why hadn’t I thought of his return? It was inevitable. Although I didn’t want the questions, they accosted me anyway. Why was he in Letum Wood? Was he looking for me? Did he go for a run for the sake of remembering our life together again?
With Merrick and the sorrow of losing him fresh on my mind, I missed my trees with a keen pang of sorrow. They had always comforted my troubled heart whenever it remembered him.
Reluctant but unable to stop myself, I looked back. Merrick had disappeared. Only the quiet grounds lay in the morning dew, as if waiting for me to join them.
Out in the main apartment and far away from thoughts of Merrick, Papa waited. He stood near the curved bay windows that overlooked the same stretch of grounds I’d been staring at from my room. The growing light from outside gave him a quiet, ethereal glow.
“You’re up early, Papa.”
He spun to look at me. A smile crossed his face, tinged with warmth. I joined him at his side to peer out. When he spoke, his voice had a gentle burr.
“Morning, B. Why are you awake so early?”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
He grunted.
I lifted my brow. “And you?”
“It’s not that early. I have to be up before the sun most of the time, now. Today, however, I’m meeting with Baxter and Marten to prep for the Southern Network breakfast this morning, before the Esbat begins. Just wanted to take a few minutes to think before I head to my office.”
“Your office?” My brow rose. “The three of you normally meet here and have breakfast together, don’t you?”
His lips pressed into a firm line. “I know.”
Marten already knew about Ava, but Baxter didn’t, which could mean that Papa didn’t want Baxter and Ava to run into each other. Why that would be the case, I couldn’t even fathom.
“Why?”
“I don’t want Baxter here.”
“Are you hiding Ava from Baxter?” I asked, incredulous at the thought. Baxter had become Papa’s most trusted Assistant. He managed almost Papa’s entire life. For Papa to actively hide Ava from him specifically was . . . shocking.
His nostrils flared. “For now,” he murmured.
Astonishment colored my tone. “But . . . why?”
Papa paused, then said, “Let’s just say that he and I need to clear a few things up before he gets to know everything. Now is not the time to have that conversation with him. I plan to do it after the Celebration when both of us don’t have so much to do. Keep Ava to yourself for now, please? I will be the one that informs him when he needs to know. Got it?”
“Sure.”
I didn’t articulate all of my questions yet, mostly because I didn’t want to push Papa into irritation. Any frustration on his part would only push him further away from keeping Ava here with me. At any moment, he could take her away, and how would I recover my magic with her somewhere else?
Considerations aside, a comfortable silence grew between us. It’s what I’d always loved best about Papa. Our easy camaraderie extended to the quiet times as well. Behind us, on the table, lay a spread of Papa’s favorite breakfast. A sizzling slab of ham. A hardboiled egg. Fresh milk to wash it down, all with a thick, hearty roll made of sprouted grains. He hadn’t touched it, despite usually waking up ravenous.
“I can’t stop thinking about Marie,” he said quietly.
Mama’s name fell gently off his lips. My breath caught. It had been so long since either of us had mentioned her. We didn’t avoid speaking about her, but she had been gone for so many years now that bringing her up no longer felt natural. I cleared the sudden cobwebs out of my throat.
“Why?” I asked.
He half smiled, but it had ghosts in it. “I don’t know.”
“Do you miss her?”
“Forever. Always.”
“Oh.”
He shook his head. “It’s more than that. I just . . . I keep asking myself if this is all there is?”
“To life?”
“To everything.” He lifted his hands, as if to gesture around us. “To . . . us being here. To being High Priest. To . . . whatever this life is. Without Marie at my side, it’s . . . not what I wanted. I never thought this would happen, of all the things I pictured for the three of us.”
“Becoming the High Priest, you mean?”
He shrugged. His gaze had turned cloudy, as if frustrated, although his voice maintained an even edge.
“Perhaps. I’m not sure what I mean. I just know that I’ve felt robbed ever since I lost your mother. And sometimes, on quiet mornings like this, it . . . it just seems bigger.”
“She loved mornings,” I murmured.
He smiled. “Yes, she did. Mornings, tea, and quiet.”
“I miss Mama, too.”
“I know you do.” He turned to me, one eyebrow lifted. “Do you think about her much?”
“At least every day.”
“Me too. What do you think she’s doing right now?”
I laughed. “Assuming the afterlife is real? Planting something with grandmother. The two of them were insufferable in the garden together.”
He grinned. “Just like her daughter.”
I punched him in the arm and he laughed. Light lined the sound, which reassured me that all the gathering pressure I’d seen in his eyes yesterday hadn’t driven too deep yet.
“Speak for yourself,” I muttered.
He chucked me softly in the shoulder. “I love you, B. And I’m sorry about what’s happened. We’ll figure this out.”
The feeling in the air quickly sobered. “I had Leda come and meet Ava last night. I think there’s a good chance she’ll be able to speak with Ava soon. There are hints of familiarity in Ava’s words that align with the Declan language.”
His brow hung low over his eyes with his thoughts. “Huh.”
“Please, Papa. Let Ava stay here. I’ll take responsibility for her. She might be the only way we can get my magic to work again and possibly prevent something worse from happening to Alkarra. What if more are on the way?”
A heavy sigh dropped his shoulders. “I thought about it all night, and while I don’t like the idea of keeping a mortal here, I like the idea of you being somewhere else even less. Magic or not, I have no doubt you’d find Ava wherever I put her. So yes, I will let her stay. For now,” he tacked on.
Relief made me weak.
“Thank you, Papa.”
He cut me a sharp glance. “Nothing dangerous, B. Nothing at all. She is here to learn how to communicate with us, and then I will take it from there after the Celebration. Our focus has to be meticulous. We’ll give my attention to Ava when we’re through the Celebration. All right?”
“I understand.”
“You are not to ask her questions about the magic or where she lives or anything until I am in the room. Understood?”
I nodded. Of course, it would lay out differently from that . . . but let him feel in control here.
“Sounds fine,” I choked out.
The amused twinkle in his eye told me he didn’t buy it at all, but he let it go for now. He clapped a hand on my shoulder and stepped back.
“I need to clear up a few things with Baxter. Stay in the apartment as much as you can. If you have to leave, go with Reeves or someone that can get you out of a bad situation. Marten and I will figure out how to get you to the ball tomorrow night. Your absence again will only draw suspicion.”
“Jikes,” I muttered. “I totally forgot about the ball.”
He flashed me a pearly smile. “I didn’t. I’ll figure something out so that you stay safe. Don’t get too bored in here, and don’t go into Letum Wood.”
“Fine. I promise.”
He clasped me in a quick hug, kissed the top of my head, and shoved me toward the breakfast table. While he walked toward the door, a leather belt with hidden daggers and a sundry of other weapons zipped across the room and into his waiting hand. He paused at the door and spun around as he tightened it around his waist.
“Merrick asked about you yesterday,” he said. He studied me with a too-acute gaze. I tried to pretend as if I didn’t care. When Merrick had left the Central Network under Geralyn’s express command, there had been a sense of relief in Papa.
“Oh?”
“Told him you were doing great.” His expression darkened, then cleared. “I’ll have Baxter follow up on the ball, all right? Have a good day, B.”
He opened the door and disappeared into the hallway.
11
After Papa left, I sat at the breakfast table and dully comprehended my day. What would I do with my time? My mind drifted to my magic. More than a full day had passed since I touched the amulet, and I still felt the withdrawal of magic like a physical pang. The hollowness stretched through my body like a cavern. No amount of thought or wishing would fill it back up. Beneath it murmured a low, quiet roar of emptiness.
I frowned at a plate of fried eggs while Reeves puttered around the table, fussing with my half-filled teacup. He cast surreptitious glances over to Ava’s door, which remained closed and lifeless inside.
“Good sleep, Reeves?” I asked.
He nodded.
While I poked at a piece of bread, Reeves strode down the hall. He returned with the same crisp, even staccato of shoes on stone.
“Ava is gone.”
His calm declaration startled me like exploding sap. I leapt out of my chair and screeched, “What?”
“Her room is empty. The bed is unmade. She is not in her room or your room. I have not seen her this morning.”
Panic coursed through me. That meant she must be somewhere in or near the castle, which was the worst possible place for her to be alone right now. The delegations would be in the hallways after the Southern Network breakfast and on their way to the Esbat room any minute now.
“Where could she have gone?” I asked as I stalked to the wall where my sword hung. “What time did you get up?”
“I’m not certain where she went, and I woke up two hours ago.”
Halfway to the door, I forced myself to slow down and think. Without magic to keep me invisible, or safe, any mistake could result in death for me or Ava. I had no magic, and she was visibly mortal.
“I’m going to look for her,” I called over my shoulder. “I’ll be back. Stay here in case she returns.”
“But—”
Before he could protest, I rushed into the hallway.
Once there, I paused again. Now what? It could take a full day to scan every room and hallway. For all I knew, she roamed the cobblestone streets of Chatham City by now.
With a muttered curse word, I followed a hunch to the left. It led away from the main body of the castle and toward the gardens. She wouldn’t know that, but because the outside wall of the castle was in that direction, she might instinctively go that way.
My heart slammed in my chest as I hurried down a turret stairwell, smiling at a gaggle of maids as they passed. They sang a chorus of, “Merry meet!”, their arms full of brooms. Buckets flew behind them.
A tug of envy pulled at me. They didn’t even know how good they had it with their easy magic.
Sheer uncertainty kept me from asking if they’d seen a girl like Ava. No need to draw more attention to her. At the very least, they didn’t mention anything different about me, which meant something.
I hoped.
The maids disappeared behind me as I continued down the stairs and outside. A search of the nearest gardens came up empty. Guardians called to me, and I waved but hustled away before we could speak. The main floor revealed no Ava. Not in the kitchens, the laundry, or anywhere that servants mostly congregated.
I paused in a stairwell to gather my thoughts and catalog the places she could hide. Or her reasons for leaving. What was her motivation? Had someone taken her? Leda rarely woke up this early unless compelled, and she would have left a note. Reeves would have known the signs of a struggle in her room, and I doubted Ava would go with any witch without a protest.
After an hour of fruitless searching, I stopped in a hall with a defeated sigh. Best that I check to see if she’d returned before I started to search more private, secluded areas. Those halls would make it more likely that I could run into a high-ranking member of another Network, and the last witch I wanted to talk to was any of them.
Reluctantly, I headed back to the apartment. Paranoia ran high as I attempted to avoid all workers, waved every now and then, but otherwise acted like I had my total focus on something else. I avoided the halls that led to the Esbat and the visiting guest rooms and wound my way back through the castle.
Just as I turned a corner, I skidded to a stop. A body materialized out of nowhere, knocking into me. A pair of hands caught me just before I tumbled to the ground.
“Oh! Forgive me, Miss Bianca.”
When I recovered myself, Niko’s dark, wide eyes met mine. He appeared as startled as me, but it faded quickly. The pressure of his fingers around my arms disappeared as his hand dropped.
“The fault is mine,” I said with a forced smile. “Perhaps I shouldn’t always be in such a hurry.”
Niko tilted his head to the side, gaze tapered as he took me in. His hair was slicked back and shiny this morning. With a freshly-shaved face, strong jaw, and patrician features like his grandfather, he cut an impressive political figure. Standing before Niko Aldana without magic felt like walking into a room naked. How did the Southern Network delegation stand in front of witches every day?
Too late, I realized I’d been staring at him for an awkward amount of time. Something like concern appeared in his features.
“Are you . . . well?” he asked.
Panic filled me like cold snakes in my belly. Could he sense my missing magic? Was there something visibly different about me without it? Neither Papa, Marten, nor Leda had insinuated there was. Before I could summon up the brainpower to reply, he shook his head.
“I’m sorry. You are lovely, as always. Forgive me if that was rude.”
His observation had an echo of concern, but more of surprise. Surely, something seemed different about me, but maybe he couldn’t articulate what he sensed. In that case, I could slip out of here.
“Rough night,” I said with a wan smile. “Just a little tired.”
He ran a hand over his eyes. “I understand. These political meetings can be very intense.”
“You’re not sleeping well?” I asked, eager to turn the focus away from me. “Is there something we can do to make you more comfortable?”
