Magic and Mayhem: Any Witch Way (Kindle Worlds Novella) (4 page)

Chapter Five

Gideon put his hand on Gwen’s back as they neared the carnival encampment, then removed it. What the hell was he thinking? It was a knee-jerk reaction, that was all. He knew the witches and warlocks in the traveling circus could be a closed-off group. They might not welcome an unannounced visit from strangers. His urge to protect Gwen was nothing more than a mere byproduct of having been raised right.

He’d sent the mice off on a wild goose chase to get them out of his hair for the day, but it hadn’t been easy to convince them to leave Gwen. The trio had shown up at Gwen’s door that morning with platters of fruit and cheese—a lot of cheese. Mickey and Mighty had said it was all part of the Glass Slipper Service, while Moose grumbled about sharing his cheese.

As he and Gwen teleported to a field near the carnival’s encampment, Gideon was glad he’d been able to ditch the mice. The last thing he needed was three mice tagging along as he tried to get the Komolvo to open up to him. Komolvo witches and mice did
not
get along. Komolvo witches could almost always trace their lineage back to a few familial lines originating in a small village on a mountainside in Europe. A village that at one time produced great cheeses.

After the mouse invasion of 1713, the Komolvo took to traveling, and many now worked in carnivals the world over.

They’d only gotten within twenty yards of the small carnival community when two men and a woman separated from the group and came toward them. Nowadays, instead of tents, or even RVs, they traveled in tiny homes set on trailers. Not what you think of when you think of trailer homes, these were tiny little houses, with chimneys and real roofs. The only difference between them and a real home were the wheels. Well, that and size.

Each was typically no more than three hundred or so square feet. At least, that was how they appeared from the outside. Gideon wouldn’t be surprised if they were much larger on the inside. It was what he would do. A basic glamour spell to make a larger home look smaller. There could be complications, of course, but nothing that couldn’t be handled by the people they were about to see. These witches and warlocks were crafty and sharp. If they lacked anything in the power department, they often made up for it in intelligence.

“What did we do to earn a visit from the Boguman himself?” one of the men said, by way of greeting. “We’ve kids here with us, but none I know who’ve earned a visit of this magnitude.”

Gideon laughed. They seemed open to him. Better to try to befriend them and see what he could find out. “Well, now little Aurel is pushing the limits a bit lately, but he isn’t the reason for my visit. Yet.”

The woman smiled, and her beautiful Komolvo features took on a light that shone from within. “That Aurel is a tough one. You might have a hard time getting through to him.” This particular carnival was made up of primarily Komolvo witches and warlocks, who likely hadn’t known anything other than the nomadic way of life. Outsiders were sometimes welcomed into the group over the years, and eventually accepted as family, but for the most part, the Komolvo line and features were evident in the faces of nearly every one of them.

The third man had yet to speak, and was attempting to look the part of the tough leader who wouldn’t deign to speak to outsiders, but Gideon wasn’t fooled. The woman was truly the one in charge. This was a matriarchal clan, and no one would accept or reject him without her say-so.

Gideon spoke to her now. “I’m not here on business. In fact, call me Gideon,” he said, then turned to Gwen. “This is Gwen.”

“Is she now?” the woman said, watching Gwen with eyes that saw too much. “Seems I’ve known her all my life.”

No one said anything for an uncomfortable moment. But the woman was the one to break the silence. “A witch with no magic.” She tilted her head. “No, that isn’t quite right, is it? You have all of the magic in the world, yet none of your own.”

Gideon cleared his throat and moved closer to Gwen. It hadn’t occurred to him how defenseless Gwen could be at times. She wasn’t able to use the magic she held. She couldn’t fight back if anyone attacked her.

“I’m Luca,” said the first man, “and this is Harmen and Floarea.” They all shook hands, and when Harmen continued to remain silent, Gideon wondered if he’d been incorrect in his first impression. Perhaps the man wasn’t trying to act tough. Maybe he couldn’t speak. It would be odd for a warlock given the health of most of their race, but perhaps a curse had left him mute.

There was no explicit invitation, but the three turned and walked toward the encampment, and didn’t object when Gideon and Gwen followed. He supposed that was all the invitation they’d get.

“How long will you all be staying in town?” Gideon asked after they’d met several others. A few children ran and hid when they spotted Gideon. It always puzzled him a bit that children could see who he was even when he was in warlock form. He was quite handsome in that form. There really wasn’t any need to run, but they always seemed to sense the Boguman and look for a place to hide. Except Aurel, he noticed. The boy really would need a visit soon. He simply jutted his chest out at the sight of Gideon and kept right on pulling the pigtails of one of the little girls.

Luca shrugged. “A few weeks. Assjacket affords us a little rest from having to hide who we are around the humans who attend the carnival. It’s a much-needed break every year. I’m sure you understand.”

“I do,” said Gideon, suddenly aware that he had felt some relief at not having to be the Boguman twenty-four-seven the past day. Despite the tension that continued to dominate every interaction with Gwen, he felt more at ease here than he had in a good long time.

“Will you join us this evening for our meal?” Floarea asked.

“We’d love to,” Gwen said, beaming as she looked around at the Komolvo. To her everything was an exciting new adventure, and she hadn’t bothered to see if Gideon wanted to stay or not.

Oddly, he did. Even though he wondered if the siphoned magic had something to do with the carnival, the thought of sharing a meal with others—something he rarely did—appealed to him.

So he made an effort to relax as they enjoyed an evening you couldn’t really experience anywhere else. Makeshift tables were gathered around an open barbecue pit in the field where the encampment had been set up. Chicken, steak, and fish crowded the grill over the open flames, surrounded wherever there was even the smallest bit of space by ears of corn still in the husks. Baked potatoes wrapped in foil sat on rocks on top of hot coals beneath the grill.

Even though the carnival wasn’t set up, there was still the feeling of a carnival all around. Tiny lights glittered above and a group of men played on gorgeous handcrafted instruments Gideon suspected were only brought out during private moments. They likely played another set of instruments when the carnival was open to the public.

As they sat with Harmen, Floarea, and Luca and watched dinner being prepared, Gideon scanned the group. As the Boguman, his ability to see into the hearts and minds of those causing trouble only extended to children, but he still tried to assess everyone he came in contact with, and especially those who seemed to hang back.

It turned out the couple Wanda had told them about, Minerva and Tink, were part of the carnival. He had to give Wanda credit. She was right about the pair. They were an odd couple if he ever saw one.

Tink was an enormous warlock, though his power was quite limited and he was a bit plain for a warlock. They learned he was called Tink because he tinkered with everything he could get his hands on. In fact, Shifters brought things to him to repair during this vacation each year. Tink seemed to want to hang back from everyone and didn’t join in the revelry much.

Minerva, on the other hand, tugged at him to come to the front of the group as the night went on. She was a stunning witch, but she had only moderate powers, and Gideon could see the hunger Wanda had talked about in her eyes. She coveted Floarea’s quiet strength and the power of those in charge. There was an aura of greed and perpetual discontent about her.

Tink finally succeeded in pulling Minerva back to the outskirts of the encampment to an old van.

“They seem like an unlikely pair,” Gideon said to Luca. Maybe if he got Luca talking about those in their group who didn’t have the power to siphon the magic from Gwen, he’d get the warlock to slip up about someone who did.

Luca snorted. “Minerva likes to get close to anyone she thinks might have power. With that one, she’s playing a long game.”

Gideon shook his head. “I don’t get it. He’s not a very powerful warlock.”

“No, but he’s Floarea’s cousin, which means he’s not only related to our matriarch, he’s a descendant of Guibran Mirga,” Luca said, referring to an extremely powerful, but deceased warlock. In fact, it was odd for a descendant of Guibran to be as weak as Tink was.

“Oh stop, Luca. Gideon doesn’t care about our ancestors,” Floarea chided, as she refilled the mugs of everyone at the table.

“Oh, but
I
do,” Gwen said, sitting forward. “I don’t have ancestors or family of my own. I find it fascinating. What is it like to have a history? To know where you come from?”

This time Gideon didn’t clamp down on the urge to put his hand on Gwen’s back. He knew he was getting sucked in with her again, but he couldn’t help it. There were times she seemed so vulnerable, so lost, and he had a hard time not responding to that.

It was Floarea who replied to Gwen, though. “Oh, but you do. You’re in all of us, Gwen.” Gideon still thought it was odd that Floarea had immediately seen who and what Gwen was, and seemed to accept without question that the anchor of magic was sitting at her table about to eat a meal with her. “Our ancestry is really your ancestry. The same magic that ran through Guibran also ran through you, as it now runs through me, through Tink, and Harmen—my brother—through many of us.” Floarea nodded to those around her, and Gideon wondered how many of them were from the Mirga family line.

Gwen smiled, but there was something behind it that told Gideon she wasn’t entirely comforted by Floarea’s explanation. He remembered talks they’d had centuries before during her first
visit
to this realm. She’d wanted to be a part of something, wanted to belong. To have family. A last name. Floarea was right about Gwen having history, and he wondered for the first time if she knew where she came from. He needed to remember to tell her how she became the anchor in the first place.

***

The evening gave way to night as they filled their stomachs with good food and drink. Gideon hadn’t intended to stay when the dancing began, but he found himself surrounded by nearly every witch and warlock in the encampment as music swept them away on the dance floor. He’d had no shortage of offers to dance from the bold women of the Komolvo camp, but he felt he had to keep Gwen close. Without him, she was completely vulnerable to anyone who wished to harm her. Much as he wanted her to complete her task so she could leave, he wouldn’t put her in danger.

He wasn’t sure how it happened. He’d been so sure to hold her at arm’s length. But Gwen began to work her way back into his heart. She was different than he remembered, and yet the same. This Gwen was naïve, but that probably came from her lack of memory of the last time she was here. She didn’t seem to know how powerful she really was. How brave she was. He had watched her throw herself into harm’s way to save magic two hundred years ago despite not having magic of her own, and he had no doubt she’d do so again today if need be.

Other things about her were so familiar they made him ache. Her smile, or the way she pushed her curls from her eyes. The way she wanted to be everyone’s friend. Her laugh. All of it made him want to go back in time. To be able to hold her again. To love her again without the pain of her betrayal between them.

Without conscious thought, Gwen was suddenly in his arms, her body pressed to his as they moved with the music, and she felt so right. So damned good, he wanted to lose himself in her.

She smelled incredible. As he lowered his head to kiss her lips, it was as though he’d come home. As though the last two hundred years of aching for her, of hurt and anger, had never happened. It was washed away in her arms, her kiss.

Part of Gideon knew this wasn’t right. There seemed to be a fog building around his brain, and he couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t stop what was happening. But he
should
stop it. That much he still knew.

Gwen was kissing him back, reaching up to his shoulders to pull him in, her scent surrounding him in a spell he was utterly lost in. They swirled on the dance floor, the faces of the others lost around them. But no, that wasn’t entirely true. Two faces kept reappearing amidst the swirling dancers. Tink and Minerva’s. Only they weren’t dancing. They were watching. Watching him.

Anger tore through Gideon as he felt the spell swallow them, as he realized they’d been enchanted somehow when he hadn’t been expecting it. He’d somehow let down his guard. He shook his head and rolled his shoulders, throwing off the spell with a roar.

Gwen stared at him in shock, but he didn’t offer an explanation as his eyes sought out Tink and Minerva in the crowd. Their faces were the only ones he’d been able to see clearly during the spell. That had to mean something. But they were gone, and all around them, the gypsies danced as though nothing had happened.

“Come on,” he growled at Gwen, tugging her through the crowd, ready to crush anyone who tried to stop them. He should have known mixing with the Komolvo was a dangerous idea. Why the hell he brought Gwen there with him, he didn’t know. But it had been stupid, that was for sure. He shouldn’t have put her anywhere near the danger.