Magic's Design (35 page)

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Authors: Cat Adams

BOOK: Magic's Design
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Pain and fear wasn’t enough, because Mila was starting to realize just how selfish her mother had been to cast the spell. It wasn’t to protect Mila and Sarah, it was to protect
her
. If her kids didn’t remember their heritage, they’d never leave her to train in the guilds. She demanded calls every day, and dinner twice a week. How could she have that if her children left the surface world? Forever together with a simple spell. “I was pure enough to make a
duszat
, Mom. Pure enough to save the Tree in Vril this morning. But if not for a total
fluke
, I never would have known. I never would have
remembered,
and I’m so pissed off right now that I could
spit!
Suzanne could
die
because you broke your vow to Baba! She has the red shadow. Did you know that? Do you even
care
about your people anymore? Haven’t you heard them calling in your veins? They
need
us.” She grabbed her mother’s arm, a little harder than she’d planned by the expression.
But it galvanized her mother’s response and Mila realized just how deep her pain went as her words turned cold and bitter. “They
need
to die, Mila! They
deserve
to die.” She shook off the grip angrily and was off the ground and standing to her full height.
Mila could taste the magic now, and it tightened the glands at the back of her jaw. Apparently even her mother wasn’t pureblood. Didn’t Tal say water magic tasted sour? But Mila refused to back down even when her mother began to spit the words in nearly a yell … while people stepped around them, trying to ignore the scene. “They cast us out! Killed our people, our entire guild. You’re too young to have any idea what it was like. Mikel’s family took us in. They elected to stay topside because they were tired of killing and death. But even then the kings couldn’t stop. They had to track down the
traitors
who wouldn’t buy into the lies. They drove and pushed him until he had a heart attack. It’s all their fault, and I
refuse
to let them destroy you both, too! I will not save the life of any Agathian and I forbid you to as well!”
Mila stared at the woman who’d raised her, open-mouthed. Was this the same mother who taught her to love and respect your neighbors? To not care where a person came from and to treat every person as a brother, regardless of what they looked like or what they believed?
Apparently, even Sarah was shocked. “Mother! You can’t mean that. You think little Suzanne deserves to
die?
She’s only ten. Why would you say that?”
Maybe it was time for some shock therapy. She felt a calm flow through her. “You can’t
forbid
me to do anything. I make my own choices. The dark mage Vegre’s broken out of Rohm Prison, Mom. He’s here in Denver. If you want Guilders to die, you’re about to get your wish.” Her mother’s eyes moved through a dozen expressions, but ended up terrified. “Feel free to sit in your ivory tower of vengeance and ignore it as we all start to keel over. But now that I remember the spells, and with some help from my new friends, I’m going to be out there in the trenches, trying to keep people alive.”
Mila turned and started to walk away, but paused long enough to look over her shoulder. “I’ll even save you, when the
Tin Czerwona
comes knocking. I can only hope and pray to the Blessed Tree that you’ll do the same. I also hope that you’ll love … and
trust
Sarah enough to let her remember, because she deserves that much.”
Maybe it was calling on the Tree, or maybe the realization that the plague wasn’t just a memory of the past, but she was gratified to see the beginnings of respect in her mother’s eyes for a brief moment before she walked away.
She half-expected her mother to follow and continue the argument, but she didn’t. Part of her was sorry, but part glad, because there just wasn’t time. Thankfully, the day was warm enough that most of the ice had melted on the windshield, so that all she had to do was brush the towering pile of snow off the hood and roof. As she settled behind the wheel and started the engine, she began to think of the thousand things she needed to do before tomorrow night. If things went well, she could talk with her mother another time.
And if things go bad, I won’t have to worry about anything at all.
Next stop needed to be home, both to feed Mr. Whiskers and try to scrub some of the dye from her fingers before going to the Palace. She tried to call Candy on the way, but the cell phone had sat in the cold trunk too long. The battery was dead.
She parked in her usual spot and started up the sidewalk when her feet started to slow and a buzzing filled her head. There were footprints in the snow, leading right up to her door. And not just one pair of prints, but several—coming and going from various directions, as though there’d been a party.
But I thought Alexy sealed the gate and Tal put a guard spell on it. Of course, why use a gate when Sela still has a key? Stupid, stupid! Why didn’t I change the locks?
Or, could it be Tal? Could they have found the other side of the gate and come to the house?
Either way, she decided it would be prudent to cautiously look in the windows before simply walking in the house, into a trap. She stepped off the walk and sank into the fresh snow to her knee, hoping she wouldn’t have to do any fancy maneuvering, since that wasn’t likely to happen.
The living room was dim, with only the table lamp on … just like she left it. Mr. Whiskers was curled up on his favorite noon perch, a fluffy yellow towel on the horsehair love seat. It was a couch for show, rather than comfort, but Whiskers loved that couch. Mila was sure it was because it was where Lily used to sit and pet him.
“Heya, Mila!” She jumped a foot and nearly fell on her tail in the snow. She turned her head sharply and saw her neighbor, Jeff Hopkins, headed her way—his arms laden with all manner of boxes, bags, and small wooden crates. “Forget your key?”
She shook her head, a small measure of relief filling her. Jeff was a former cop and now worked as a bouncer at a local pool hall. He was the
perfect
person to walk in the door with her. He might not know magic, but he was an awesome fighter. He’d taught most of her defense classes, which was how they’d met. “No. I was just channeling you, I guess. Saw all the footprints in the snow, and I knew
I
didn’t make them. So I figured I’d look around before sticking in my key.”
He smiled and nodded. “Good girl. But you don’t have to worry about the prints. I made most of them. I guess you didn’t make it home last night, so I’ve been collecting these for you and keeping them in my house.” He motioned toward the odd assortment of containers in his hands. “You planning an art show or something?”
“Huh?”
He motioned with his head toward the door as a gust of wind nearly took the top box off the stack. “Let’s talk inside before I drop something.”
As she stuck her key in the lock and opened the door, he explained. “Whole bunch of people started coming by your place yesterday. When you weren’t home, they knocked over here. Mostly old Russian ladies—from their accents. They said they were all delivering these boxes so you’d watch over them and keep them safe. I’d presumed you knew what they were.”
She shook her head and took off her coat. It was chilly in the room, colder than it should be with the furnace going. Or had she turned it off yesterday morning, because it was supposed to warm up? She couldn’t remember. But it wasn’t so cold that anything would have frozen, so she wasn’t too worried.
Jeff held out his arms, as though waiting for help in taking the packages from him. “Bryan loaded me up when we saw your car. I can’t get them down without dropping something. They’re pretty fragile.”
Fragile? She took the top two boxes and the bag that was hanging on his wrist, giving him the second hand he needed to balance the rest and put them down on the coffee table. She opened the top box after placing her burdens, and the paperwork from the library, carefully on the love seat. They were close enough to Mr. Whiskers to make him lean over and take a sniff. Whatever they smelled like didn’t agree with him, though, because he stood up and stretched in a tall arch before leaping lightly to the floor with an indignant expression.
“They’re absolutely gorgeous. I had the hardest time convincing Bryan not to just
forget
to mention them to you.”
She opened the first box and felt her breathing still. It was a pysanka! An absolutely beautiful egg with alchemist motifs—rakes and stags and grains, in the exact colors she’d been using down below. She could even match the blue on her fingers to the blue on the egg. “Wow.” She didn’t know what else to say, and couldn’t figure out why they were here. “No, I don’t have a clue why people would deliver these to me.”
Unless … if Vegre really was doing what Dareen suggested and “collecting” Parask to dye eggs for him—
Word might have gotten around to other artists to dump all their stock. But how did they find me?
“There’s about a dozen and a half of them. If you decide to get rid of any of them after the show, let us know. I know Bryan will buy at least three of the blue ones. They match the drapes.”
Show. Well, it’s as good an excuse as any.
“Oh! the
show.
I remember now. Geez, can’t believe I forgot. It’s something the firm’s planning. I don’t know much about it, but I’ll check to see if the artists are willing to sell after it’s over.”
As she continued to open boxes, she realized the symbols were exactly the same as the ones she’d seen in the Tree. What if some of these were
duszats?
Maybe there would be time to fix
all
the Trees, before Vegre could make his move. “This is great, Jeff. Thanks a bunch for keeping them safe for me. And hey, if any more people show up while I’m out, could you grab those, too? Just make sure that
nobody
but me picks them up. These are real works of art and someone might pretend to be my assistant or something if they happen to see one. It’s just
me
, unless I tell you otherwise, ’kay?”
Jeff nodded firmly and then his face tightened. “No problem. Frankly, we’ve been sort of
wondering
about that guy who’s been spending time with Sela lately. He trips my radar.”
It was the first she’d heard that Sela had been spending enough time with anyone for the neighbors to notice. But if it was Vegre, she knew what he meant. “Tall, thin guy with bad teeth?”
Jeff nodded. “That’s the guy. A few times he’s showed up in a really nice suit and either caps or dentures. But you can’t hide that look, Mila. He’s been
hunted
at some point. He’s too wary. Keep an eye on him, huh? I wouldn’t be in the house alone with the guy.”
She opened another box, with a royal-blue and red mage guild egg nestled inside. “Seen him in … the past day or so, by chance?”
“No, and we’ve been watching. We were sort of surprised when neither you nor Sela came home last night, so we took shifts keeping an eye on the place.” That was really sweet of them, and it made her smile. Who said there weren’t any good neighbors anymore? “No visitors at all have made it inside. Either Bryan or I would always come meet people at the door or as they were leaving, and there aren’t any tracks to the back door or any windows. Unless someone showed up while we were asleep, I think it’s okay. But if you’d like me to check before I go, I’d be happy to.”
She did, so he did, which made her feel a lot more comfortable about staying in the house. It was hard to look around her house and suddenly
not
feel safe, but who’d have thought that someone could step inside without using a door or a window?
Once Jeff was gone, she sat down at the computer to start searching the Internet for anything she could think of that might make Vegre blow up Denver. Then she read through the photocopies. Neither was much help. The whole city was a saltwater sea for most of the prehistoric era and, in fact, they’d discovered large coal beds when they’d built the airport. The nearest potential volcanic activity was either in Fort Collins, nearly an hour north, or Golden, which was at least twenty miles west.
She scrubbed her face and did her makeup while she read the documents she’d printed from her Internet search. Nothing was any help—even looking at the history of the hotel. It had just been a cheap tract that nobody wanted during the silver rush years, an odd shaped parcel that wouldn’t fit a traditional square building.
“So why, then? Why spend the time or energy to blow up a hotel?” She didn’t have an answer and it was making her start to doubt herself. Maybe the others were right. Buckingham Palace might be the place after all.
But I
know
it
.
I can just feel it in my bones
.
But Tal was half a world away by now, and there wasn’t any guarantee she’d ever see him again. If he and the others were right and it was England, they’d simply go back to their lives after they caught Vegre. If not, then Denver would be a smoking crater with her as a part of it. Either way—

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