Magic's Design (40 page)

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Authors: Cat Adams

BOOK: Magic's Design
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And then he was gone, along with everyone else in the barracks. Dinner was expected to be exceptional tonight, owing to both the forthcoming battle and the availability of magic. Food had been gating in all day—meats and vegetables, spices and sweets. All afternoon the scent of roasting meat and baking pies had been making his mouth water.
But suddenly he wasn’t hungry. He leaned back on the bed again to stare at the ceiling. He could still almost feel the sensation of her next to him, phantom tingles of heat against his skin, and the scent of citrus in the air. Was that what this was all about? Was he merely infatuated with Mila, and not seeing the obvious?
“Does it matter
why
I have to go back?” Hearing his own voice speaking in the empty room startled him.
When did I decide to go back?
The answer was instantaneous.
When you realized she was right
. He could argue until his face was blue with the others about the possibilities and the
probabilities
. But he knew she was right.
Trust me
. But he hadn’t. It wasn’t logical, so he didn’t. Yet trust
wasn’t
logical … any more than faith was.
In that one brief flash of the obvious it was suddenly clear. He understood. He lost faith in Mila the moment she took away his faith in the Blessed Tree—the moment the Tree came back to life by her hand. There was no spirit, no guiding force inside the Sacred Trees—it was all just pretty
eggs. Why believe in anything at all? Why not just let logic rule?
He didn’t have an answer for that. But it wasn’t fair to let people
die
just because he was having a crisis of faith. That, in itself, wasn’t logical.
And, too, he needed to see her, hear her voice. He hadn’t been able to reach her even mentally since she’d left. Whether it was him or her didn’t matter. Even now his fingers ached to touch her, his heart pounded at the memory of her drowning deep green eyes, the curve of her lips, the taste of her magic.
Love isn’t logical
,
either
.
Again he could argue with himself that it wasn’t love …
couldn’t
be love this soon, or this strong. But his reactions when her name was spoken betrayed him.
Can there be love without trust? Without faith?
As he began to gather his things, hoping that the gate in the butcher shop still worked, he let out a small sigh.
I guess I’m about to find out
.
T
he iron eyebolt made an ear-splitting squeal as it slowly ground into the door frame. It was like fingernails on a chalkboard, amplified a dozen times by the narrow hallway. “Man, I don’t know what kind of wood they made this place of, but it’s hell for stout. How you coming with that other one?”
Candy let out a violent burst of air. The battery-powered drill went silent at the same time. “Broke another bit …
and
another nail. Next time you ask me to take you to the hardware store, remind me to say no.”
Mila smiled. Candy could talk tough, but she was a hard worker when she put her mind to it. She proved it by cranking the second eyebolt into the hole she’d drilled without much effort. “We’re almost done. That’s the last bolt and then there’s just the magical deterrents to spread out.”
Her friend blew a few strands of hair out of her eyes. “I’m not even sure why we’re doing this part. I understand installing the security system and emergency lights. Hell, you should have done that two years ago. I even see why you’d put a double-keyed dead bolt on Sela’s door. But a
trip wire?
What good will that do? Her door opens
in
, brainiac. She’ll spot it right away and just step over it.”
“You’d be surprised how the simple things get people, Candy. You’re the one who gave me the idea.” The confused look made her point down the hall. “Don’t you remember that statue that used to stand next to the table? The bronze one of the running girl with the foot that stuck out into the hallway?”
Her friend grimaced and stared at the spot. “I
hated
that damned statue. Hit my shin on it I don’t know
how
many times.”
Mila smiled. “Precisely. You hit it over and over, even though you knew it was there. People just forget to look at that height. You look at the floor, you look at arm and head level, but forget the shins. I figure I’ll have ten … maybe fifteen seconds to wake up after they go crashing to the floor. That could mean my life, or my freedom.” She flicked her finger against the nearly invisible piano wire tightly stretched across the doorway and listened to the highpitched ting. “I don’t know if their magic can open dead bolts, but I know Vegre can burn down the door. This won’t burn easily and won’t be affected by air or water magic. And,” she concluded, giving the bolt one final twist, “Even if it doesn’t work, it is worth a try.”
“Well, I do have to admit it’s hard to see, and putting the bolts on the outside of the jamb will make it nearly invisible from both directions. It’ll also be damned hard to yank out. So how much did the security system set you back?”
Mila shook her head and shuddered before rising to her feet and starting to pick up tools. “I didn’t even ask. I just handed Bryan my credit card and told him what I wanted. He said the motion sensors that came with the base unit would cover the house, but there are a
lot
of windows in this place. Putting those magnetic thingies on all of them probably won’t be cheap. I’m just hoping he’ll remember I’m a neighbor and be kind on the bill. I gave him the last two hundred to get him started. So now I’m broke again until payday.”
“But at least you’re likely to make it to the next payday. Definitely worth it, in my opinion.” Candy helped her carry the tools downstairs and let out a low whistle when she saw the security command unit now attached to the wall near the door. “Wow, you got the
fancy
one.”
Mila shrugged and put the tools back in the duffel bag before heaving it into the hall closet. “It’s a commercial unit, which is a little overkill. But I got this model because it’s the same one we have at work. I took a whole day of classes learning how to make that one sing and dance and jump through hoops. I know every code by heart and if a red button starts flashing anywhere, I don’t even have to look at the chart to know what it means. Frankly, I just don’t have
time
to learn another whole system.”
A light caught their attention and they turned toward the front picture window. It was the new emergency light clicking on to illuminate the walkway. Candy pulled up her sweater sleeve and looked at her watch. “Wow. It’s already dark? Man, I’ve got to get going. I didn’t plan to spend the whole day here … not that I mind, of course,” she hastened to add. She touched Mila’s arm, worry making tiny lines appear between her eyebrows. “You going to be okay here …
alone?
I could cancel my dinner date.”
Mila rolled her eyes and tried to let out a small laugh, even though she was wondering the same thing. “I’ve been here alone for two years now, Candy. Sela only spent a night or two here every week, remember? I’ll be fine.”
She nodded, still worried but then her eyes brightened hopefully. “Have you checked voice mail?”
The sigh that erupted from her chest spoke volumes and though she fought to keep it out, a small thread of hurt wound around the words. “We’ve been here the whole time, Candy. He hasn’t called.”
“But with the power tools running and … oh—” She finally noticed the look on Mila’s face … the one that said she’d already checked. “Well, I guess he hasn’t then, but he might still.”
She had to face the truth, just like Candy did. “It was a fling. A one-night stand. No big deal.”
Candy dropped her coat then and grabbed both sides of Mila’s chin so tight it almost hurt. “No. It
wasn’t
just a fling, and you know it. I don’t know what it
was
exactly, but don’t you dare give up hope this soon. You have a look in your eyes that—” Wetness appeared and she blinked it back. “That I pray every night I’ll see in the mirror. It might not be love, but it’s
something
, and it’s worth hanging onto. Okay?”
She’d never seen her friend like this, had never imagined that there was a deeper meaning behind all the flirting and dates and lovers. “Candy, I didn’t know …”
She smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes. “Everyone wants to find that perfect someone, Mila. At first you want it on your own terms, but eventually you start to bend. By the time you’re our age, you start picking and choosing—‘Oh, I don’t really mind being a football widow,’ or ‘I suppose his friends aren’t
that
bad.’” She let go one side of Mila’s face to touch her hair. “You found one of the good ones—smart and brave and handsome. So he’s a cop, so he’s a mage, so he’s hundreds of years old. Who cares? Of course,” she amended with a tip of her head and rolled eyes, “the elk-squirrel is a little odd, but maybe they taste good. I like elk. One of Tim’s friends hunted one once and brought back steaks. It was pretty good.”
Mila reached up to pull Candy’s hands down and held them tight for a moment. “You’re babbling, sweetie. But yeah—I wish he’d call. I wish I knew he was okay. But I don’t, and all I’ve got to hold onto right now is the thought that if I can stop Vegre, and keep the people at my work safe, then there’ll be a tomorrow. And with a tomorrow. there’s hope.”
Now Candy really did smile. She let go of Mila’s hands and picked up her jacket. “Hope’s good. I like hope. Well, then, I’ll
hope
everything will be okay here, and I
hope
he calls you, because it’ll make you happy. And hey, sue me—you’re my friend. I like it when you’re happy.”
There was no way to respond to her that didn’t involve a hug. So she did.
But once she’d closed the door behind Candy and was alone, it was a different story. The house felt big and empty—in a way that it never had when Sela was out. An energy was missing, and she knew whose.
So, rather than concentrate on the energy that was
missing
, she decided to think about the potential energy in the eggs that had been delivered. She still didn’t know if they were
duszats,
nor how to make them work. What she
did
know was the one on the mantel was. Thankfully, it hadn’t been attractive enough for Vegre to take, or he didn’t notice it. Either way, it still rested on the little block of wood.
But just as she was making herself comfortable on the couch with the egg, the bag from the occult shop vied for her attention. She wasn’t going to do
everything
the woman suggested tonight, but a few of the things had made sense. It was just hard to take someone seriously when they were dressed like Morticia Addams, right down to the octopus fringe on the bottom of the dress and a black waist-length wig. But it couldn’t hurt to pour salt on the windowsills, and she liked the idea of putting down a layer of painter’s masking tape first, so the salt didn’t eat the paint or dry out the wood. The best thing she came across in the shop, though, was the big old iron ladle. It reminded her of some of the old incantations Baba used to do to rid someone of the “black lady,” the carrier of ill health and the evil eye. Since some of the other incantations had worked in the healings, perhaps this one could keep evil from the house.
She didn’t bother with the old tongue, for the moon and sun wouldn’t need to hear her. Plus, it had worked just fine underground without the words.
Purpose and intent
. Just like Tal had said. She climbed the stairs and walked up to Sela’s door, feeling completely foolish. She lit the sandalwood candle and let the smoke fill the hallway with a warm, earthy scent. Gradually, the embarrassment passed and she began to breathe slowly, let purpose fill her. When she spoke, it came out as a booming command that echoed down the hallway. “Black lady, why do you come here? You good-for-nothing, you mustn’t show yourself. You may not dwell here among the light. I give you three tasks.” She held up the dipper and then placed it on the floor next to the door. “One task—fetch water for me from far away, where people cannot tread.” Then she held up a tuning fork that had also come from the occult shop. “Second task, make the rocks hum, far from here where roosters don’t sing.” Then she held up a bamboo walking stick, a cheap one from the drugstore. “Third task, lean on this and travel to where the icy winds dance. Be gone and never return again.”
She felt an odd sensation, like her ears popping, and the air felt clearer. Ozone mingled in her nose with the sandalwood. “Wow, did that actually
work?
” And if so, what did it do?
All she could really do was hope for the best and cross her fingers. She went back downstairs and had nearly resumed her place on the couch when her stomach growled audibly. It occurred to her that she hadn’t eaten all day. Well, if she hoped to be able to do anything productive, food should probably be next on the list.

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