Magic's Design (45 page)

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Authors: Cat Adams

BOOK: Magic's Design
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Alexy just shrugged and leaned back against the cushions. “I’m afraid you’ve lost me, luv.” Even Tal was shaking his head, unable to make the logic leap.
Instead of explaining it, she licked her finger and smeared spit on the smoked-glass coffee table. Once the triangle that the hotel sat on was drawn, she narrowed the lot by where the walkways and roads were. “Dedications in real estate mean you’re deeding bits of the land to the city for the public good. Alleys to get delivery trucks in, sidewalks for patrons, roads for drivers. So the owner doesn’t
own
them anymore. No more homestead on those bits. What does the lot look like
now?
”
It was Tal who said it first, in a voice filled with both awe and fear. “It’s an egg. Blessed Tree, this entire
property
is egg-shaped!”
She slapped her palm against the tabletop, startling them both. “
That’s
why he’s doing it here. The rune designs became part of this egg when they were installed, and they circle the building. The skylight is just part of it, and I haven’t ever looked at all the smaller windows as a
whole,
to see if there’s a larger picture made by them.” Every single bit of evidence was flowing into her head, attaching like they were suddenly magnetized. “Remember what Dareen said? He wants to harness the
sun
to blackmail the world. That would require a massive amount of power, and a pysanky this size, filled by a hundred smaller pysanky, would dwarf the power of the Tree. And controlled by him through homestead magic, he could do it.”
The two men were trying to wrap their heads around it, blinking repeatedly and staring at her with slack jaws. It was when Tal finally spoke that her balloon hissed and dropped a little. “But then why the squelk and the magma? Why
destroy
the hotel he worked so hard to get?”
She kicked her toe against the leg of the table aimlessly and crossed her arms. “Well, I haven’t worked out
everything
yet. I also haven’t figured out why
now?
If Vegre really has been coming and going for years, why did he pick tonight? There’s so many people out and about celebrating tonight. I’d think that would make it much harder to plan everything so it goes smoothly. Or is he
anticipating
the chaos? Maybe that’s the thing he needs—lots of confusion so nobody notices anything until it’s too late. Then he can start the New Year with a bang.”
Something about what she said made both Tal and Alexy sit up straighter. Alexy raised one finger in the air, but then lowered it and shook his head in tiny movements, as though whatever he was thinking was such a preposterous idea that it was too much to actually say. But Tal was willing to say it. “The Time of Cessation.”
Unfortunately, Mila had no clue what that meant. She rolled her hand, hoping one of them would provide an explanation. Alexy shook his head and tried to smile, but it faltered more than once before he gave up. “Just a myth. Claptrap to scare the poppets—a way for the kings to enforce the New Year’s curfew.”
“I’ve thought that about a
lot
of things lately, Alexy. But it’s mentioned too often not to at least consider it.” He looked at Mila. “Remember what I just said about homestead magic? It’s old magic—based on generally accepted belief of a thing.” She nodded and he continued. “Well, the Time of Cessation is older still … goes back to pagan times, and claims that there’s some sort of mystical clock in time and space that resets itself each year. It used to be during the celebration of Samhain in the old Celtic calendar, what’s currently celebrated as Halloween. But when most of the world adopted the Gregorian calendar, the last day of the year moved to December thirty-first.”
Alexy nodded. “The old myth claims that on the stoke of midnight on the last day of the year, reality ceases … just for a split second. Anything that happens during that moment
becomes
the new reality when the next year begins. If enough people
believe
that the old is gone, and the new begins, it does and they’ll never know the difference—won’t even remember the old world.”
She’d say it was ridiculous, but nothing else made sense. “But wouldn’t the entire world have to believe it about that particular thing? Wouldn’t the world have to acknowledge Vegre’s plan knowingly?”
Tal’s face went through a dozen emotions. “I just don’t know. But I
can
imagine that Vegre would try to use any advantage he could. If it worked, it would be just that much less work to take over. But it still doesn’t explain why he’d make a volcano in downtown Denver.”
“Maybe there’s some other way to fill a pysanka? I didn’t read all the scrolls at Viktor’s and Vegre was there. Maybe there’s something else going on—some sort of backup plan?”
Alexy nodded, his eyes still on the smeary drawing on the table. “It’s a pretty theory, luv, and I’ll give you marks for thinking of it.” He raised his head to look at her. “But the squelks are something that’s easily proved, where this … it’ll be something I’ll have to believe when I see.” He used the cuff of his jacket to clean off the spit art. “That’s not saying I won’t watch for signs. If I see an egg, I’ll destroy it. Every one that’s destroyed is one less to be used. But for now, I’m going to cloak myself and head for the basement, or a lower point if there is one. If I sense any squelk, I’ll Hash—” He paused and sighed. “I’ll find a way to get word to you. For now, though, I think you should find a way to contact Kris to let her know what’s going on. And Mila needs to keep tabs on Vegre and his motley crew and see if she can find any reason why it has to be
tonight.
I don’t suppose he’s fool enough to leave a written plan around, but maybe there’s
something
to be found.”
She nodded, and so did Tal. It wasn’t the
best
plan, as plans go, but at least it was movement forward. They just needed to find some way to score before the offense got back on the field.
“Mila!” She turned sharply to her name and saw Mike Callendar waving near the staircase. As he moved closer, he continued to talk. “They sent me to come find you. We’re about to go into the main room.”
“Mike? I thought you were headed to Canada on your goose chase …
hunt
.”
He gave a rueful laugh. “Missed my flight. I’m heading up day after tomorrow to join them late. So, tonight, I’m here at the pleasure of the firm, and
we
need to get going.”
She looked at her wrist only to remember she hadn’t worn a watch. “Is it eight o’clock already?”
Tal nodded, his eyes on the watch under his sleeve. “Very nearly.” He stood smoothly and stepped around the coffee table before offering his arm. “Shall we?”
Alexy leaned back as Mike stepped close to her, just a passing acquaintance chatting with two strangers. “Nice meeting you both. Have a happy New Year.”
Tal nodded and turned his head as they started to walk away. “Good luck with your project.”
“Never a need to worry about me. You just take care and keep that pretty girl safe.”
Tal closed his eyes and set his jaw before nodding and tightening his grip on her arm. “I’ll take care of her. You can wager on it.”
Mike looked at the interaction curiously, but didn’t comment beyond raising his brows her way. She just rolled her eyes at him and shook her head as if to say,
Men.
That made Mike chuckle and he offered his arm so that she was sandwiched between them. He leaned closer. “Came to get you because I wanted to be the first to tell you the good news. The judge denied the motion and the clerk says there’s a good chance the judge will sign the order finalizing the probate before the end of the day. He starts a three-week vacation on Monday, so he’s burning the midnight oil tonight, clearing off his desk.” He looked at her with a note of caution. “But it’s just rumor at this point, so keep your fingers crossed.”
It shouldn’t make her so ridiculously happy, but it did. Suddenly she
knew
everything was going to be okay. Baba would get better, Vegre would be stopped, and Tal—he could come live in her house with her.
Don’t get the cart ahead of the horse, girl,
said her Candy voice, but she shooed it away.
I get to have my moment, even if it gets stomped on later.
“Thanks for telling me, Mike. I’d
love
to start the new year with the house in my name. Lots of things to do that I’ve been putting off.”
He chuckled and winked. “At least
you
have an excuse.”
It was walking through the door of the banquet room that made her stutter to a nervous stop. Mike, his mission accomplished, let go of her arm and kept walking toward his wife with a small wave good-bye.
Boy, that moment of happiness didn’t last long.
All of the firm employees were lined up along the walls, drinks in hand and eyes wide as they surveyed the dozens … no,
hundreds
of pysanky that filled the room. They were lined up side by side like toy soldiers along a low shelf that encircled the room. They rested on the buffet tables among the chocolate-covered strawberries and caviar. There were even little tree-shaped holders, like would normally bear deviled eggs, up on the podium. She could only look at Tal helplessly, seeking some advice on what to do.
Vegre had trumped them both. There were too many people in the room to just start walking around the room, destroying eggs. And some of them might be boobytrapped, just like Tal had done with Sela’s door.
Her dismay was complete when she heard a tapping on the microphone and looked up to see Vegre himself staring down at her and Tal. He was in a full tux, with a bloodred cummerbund that had various pysanky designs embroidered on the fabric. Sela stood behind him now, the lights catching the shimmering silver floor-length gown she wore that so flattered her blond beauty and was accented by a stunning necklace with a center diamond the size of a pigeon egg.
Vegre looked down at Mila with open amusement. The smirk he wore was shared by the two mages from the prison. They were dressed as hotel security, complete with dark sunglasses and black fingerless gloves on
both
hands. They flanked the stage on which the podium sat, looking annoyingly capable.
“Shit.” It wasn’t a word she’d heard very often from Tal, but she couldn’t deny it fit the circumstance.
“Ladies and gentlemen of Sanders, Harris & Hoote—I’m David Pierce, and on behalf of myself and the staff and management of Peircevil Holdings and the Palace Hotel, I welcome you.” His voice was smooth, without a trace of the lofty British accent she’d heard before.
All of a sudden, the lights dimmed and she felt the heat and blinding light of a spot on her. She looked around frantically but then understood when he spoke again. “Please join me in a round of applause for your own Mila Penkin, who both arranged for this affair and was the …
inspiration
for the lovely decorations you see scattered around the room. Mila is quite an artist herself, and several of the eggs you see were made by her.” Everyone obediently clapped, hollered, and looked at her but she only had eyes for Vegre. His smile was self-satisfied and turned briefly to a sneer before settling back into more civilized lines.
He gestured to one of the waiters she recognized as one of Demeter’s Children. “Fetch Ms. Penkin a drink.” When the woman failed to move, to even react, his brow furrowed, but Sela covered for him, “Yes, do.” As if in a daze the waitress brought a tray of champagne flutes, offering one each to Tal and Mila.
“To the oh-so talented Mila Penkin.”
To Mila’s horror she was the center of attention as everyone obediently raised their glasses. “To Mila.”
Pierce flashed a venomous smile. “Now everyone, please, eat, drink, be merry.”
The old toast continued on in her head,
For tomorrow we may die.
Vegre stepped off the stage and was immediately surrounded by the partners of the firm, many of whom had never met him. His guards stood just in front of the crowd, keeping a close eye on Mila and Tal.
Mila set her flute on the nearest table. A sense of hopelessness filled her and she stared around at her friends, wondering what it felt like to burn to death in lava. Would it be fast, or agonizingly slow?
Tal’s voice whispered in her ear. “I tried to talk to my mother.”
Mila blinked at him, but didn’t say a word. She wasn’t sure
what
to say.
“She didn’t even
recognize
me, or Kris, either, for that matter. She’s completely bespelled.”
“I wonder if they all are?” She nodded toward a long line of people—dressed as waitstaff, even though last time they’d been wearing red robes with flickering flames. They barred the exit as well as if they were iron chains. Oh, they moved aside easily enough for the other members of the firm, but she was fairly confident the two of them weren’t going
anywhere.

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