Enchanter's Echo (11 page)

He pointed at the first stone. “Can you sense it? It’s small.”

She reached out a hand, but he grabbed her wrist, startling her into a jump.

“You can’t touch it. You’ll get sense sick. See with your mage sense.” Despite the grim turn to his mouth and his hard hold around her arm, he spoke with calm patience.

Her cheeks heated, her icy skin suddenly burning. “Actually, I don’t use my mage sense much. Not unless I’m working with metal.” She twisted her wrist out of his grip.

He let her go. Confusion lined his face, the same expression her father used to wear. “What do you mean? You used it last night when you stopped my spell and turned the ball into a white wonderland.”

“No. That wasn’t my mage sense. That was just me...energy that’s always hovering on my skin. I cast all my spells with that energy except when I repair vibed metalworks.” No one had ever understood.

He stared with those dark blues like the real answers were buried inside her. “I suppose that explains why you glitter. If your vibes linger on your skin, losing control under stress makes sense. But every mage learns to look at the world through their mage sense. No kid gets out of school without that instinct forced down their throat.”

“I didn’t go to school.” She held up her hand to ward off his interruption. “My father taught me. He tried to tell me the same thing, but I don’t need to look at the world through my mage sense because I’m always seeing through my energy.”

“Ror,” he puffed the word out as if this had stolen his breath. “That is the most naive—” He cut himself off and tried again. “You have to use your mage sense to see the world around you. Every mage does. Otherwise, how do you know if you’re walking into a spell intended to harm? Without it, you’re as blind as a Non.”

“I am not.” The old frustration of being unable to explain rose anew. “I can see energy just fine. Life energy.”

“Life energy. And what percentage of the energy spectrum is made up of life energy? Twenty percent?”

She shrugged. More like ten, but she wasn’t going to tell.

He didn’t give up. “I rarely turn my mage sense off when I’m out in public. In fact, the only time I’m not using it at least every minute is when I’m alone in my attic.”

“You live in the attic?”

He ignored her question. “You’re walking around this world blind. Do you know how dangerous that is?” His voice tightened with every word.

She tried to soothe him. “All mage energy is a blessing from the goddess, meant to be reveled in and appreciated.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. Hard. Then he put his hands on her shoulders, turning her so he faced her head on. “That’s ridiculous. Not everyone uses his energy for good. Some use it to hurt people, or break into houses or drug pretty girls with potions. It can kill. It can blow up cars and fountains. It can devour your delicious, glittery goodness until you may never have existed in the first place.”

She lifted a hand to cup his cheek, his face warm against her cold hand. She soaked in his heat, wishing she could absorb away some of his fear as well. “Edmund, I refuse to go through life being afraid of the energy that naturally surrounds us.”

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out for a moment. With a hard swallow, he seemed to find his voice, though she wished he hadn’t considering what came next. “I finally understand why the other three enchantresses have armed guards. I thought it was just for show. They protect them from their own rosy outlooks. No wonder the old stories tell about enchantresses locked up in towers.”

“Not this again.” Her father had said the same thing. “I’ve been doing this all my life. Nothing’s happened to me.”

“Expect some changes, princess.” Had he not said the words so softly and with that desperate look in his eyes, she might have snapped at him. Instead, she declined politely.

“No, thank you. I like my life the way it is.” The lie popped out before she recognized it, but the Rallis heir didn’t miss it. His eyes flashed with the knowledge. After all, this was a man who’d been trained his entire life to search out the untruths and the threats, to defend his territory.

He turned to face the yard of stones. “You do know how to open your mage sense, right?”

“Of course,” she huffed.

“Open it and tell me what you see.” He wrapped an arm around her torso, pinning her arms. “No touching. No reveling in this, like you’re calling down the damn sun.”

“I prefer the moon, remember?” She answered absently, staring at the air between the first and second stones. Since there was no getting around it, she opened her mage sense as if she was at her workbench. Waves of energy glimmered before her. In the middle of the stones, a slim line of chaos vibrated in an uncontrolled mass, pulsing with an aggression that outmatched its small size.

She squinted at it. “I’ve never seen any energy look like this. What is it?”

“The energy has no claim on it. No link to the Rallis bond.” His voice hardened with the blunt admission.

She drew back, puzzled. “But I thought the Rallis bond controlled all the energy in the territory. Energy doesn’t just come unbound. Does it?”

“Someone ripped the bond.” His quiet words had a core of steel.

“What?” She shook her head, trying to understand. “How is that even possible?”

He lifted his hand and circled it around the top of the fissure, not quite touching, as if he were admiring its form. The grim pull of his lips said otherwise. “The bond is indestructible, except to a destruere mage. As it happens, I’m the only destruere in the world.”

Soul-deep certainty rooted and blossomed inside her. “You couldn’t do this. You’re Rallis’s protector, not its destroyer. So you’re not the only destruere mage.”

He bowed to her, as if she’d honored him with her words. “Even my brother didn’t have that much faith in me at first.”

She pushed away from him and circled around to the other side of the rocks, staring at him through the shimmering chaos with her mage sense. “Is this what the Wild West looks like?”

“Not hardly. Because there’s so much mage energy in the Republic, this little line of chaos is much more intense than the chaos of the West. Any chance you can fix this?” The casual question held a fierce edge of anger.

“I’ve never seen anything like it.” However, she did have experience working with the bond, an unsharable secret. Since enhanced physique broke the connection between mage and bond leaving the mage a rogue, she’d pulled the bond’s vibes through every person she’d saved.

“To fix it,” she began, “the Rallis bond needs to be reestablished here.”

“Correct.”

“You’re asking me to play with your family’s bond. I have no vow to Rallis.” A vow of loyalty would prevent her from doing harm to the family, including the bond. In return, the family would vow their protection. In Aurora’s view, that protection equaled crimped freedom.

“I’m perfectly aware of that. The senator would like to speak with you about vowing. However, this can’t wait. If someone brushes against this, he’ll be in a world of hurt.”

He was right about that. With the ease of a breath, she pushed her vibes into the land’s energy still controlled by the bond. Wrapping her vibes around a tendril, she pulled the energy through the destruere’s spell. In a blink, the fissure disappeared.

He laughed, a single short huff. “I didn’t think it would be that easy. Have you done this sort of thing before?”

Her heart jolted at his teasing smile. She could never tell him the truth to that question.

He gave her half of a smile and tipped his head. “Thank you.”

She took a deep breath, but it didn’t stop her words from shaking. “We’re definitely even now.”

The slight joy in his smile froze. “Let’s get in the truck.” He held out his arm for her to proceed. A cold gust of wind pushed her along. She huddled her bare hands beneath her arms. Suddenly, heat circled around her.

“Not that I mind doing it, but why are you not casting warmth around yourself?” He opened her door.

“Drainpipers don’t cast that type of spell very often.” She climbed into the truck. The seat was warm beneath her. He’d heated that, too.

“Because Pipers are weak. You’re not.”

“Oh, please. Not everyone here is weak, though even the triflings are welcome. Drainpipers simply don’t use everyday spells as much as the rest of the city. They believe in keeping the air as free of trash vibes as possible. How can you not know this? Pipers are your people, too. Everything here revolves around the health of the towers.”

“Rest assured I plan to spend a great deal more time in the Pipe.”

She stiffened as he closed her door, shutting her in with the echo of his words. Her defense of the Pipe had just backfired like a spell read upside down. Not smart, she thought as he strode around the front of the truck, at ease in a worker’s clothes. He was at ease everywhere—naked in a forest, in a tuxedo on a political stage, in the junkyard destroying eyes and kissing enchantresses. If he hung around here, he’d conquer the Pipe in a matter of days. It wouldn’t be long before he was eyeing her forest.

She needed to keep him away.

He climbed in the truck, and she turned to say goodbye. “I’m sure you probably have a lot of heir stuff to take care of. I can walk home from here.”

Before she could open the door, he vibed on the engine and blasted the heaters. Warm air shot from the vents touching her skin in places that weren’t exposed by the jumpsuit.
What kind of heat spell was this?
She looked down to see the upper part of her chest bare, her cleavage pushed high by the corset of a golden dress that would have done any princess proud. Strings of pearls and golden thread adorned the wide, low neck and continued down her torso, framing the golden brocade fabric that peeked from the slit in the overskirt. Long sleeves drifted down to points that would come close to brushing the ground when she walked. She touched her head. Her hat was gone and her hair was secured in a low knot at the nape of her neck.

“Edmund Rallis!” Outrage slowed her words but she’d work up to racing speed. “I told you never—” Her anger dimmed to puzzlement at the dark scarlet doublet that framed his upper torso, stopping at his hips to reveal black hose clinging to his legs. Pointed black shoes graced his feet.

He hadn’t moved. His vibes hadn’t changed.

“That wasn’t your spell.” Her voice wavered. The doors locked shut. Trapped. Her throat tightened.

“Hose aren’t really my thing.” Regret dimmed his blue eyes. “I’m sorry, Aurora.”

The engine revved. The vehicle shifted into reverse. Aurora’s shoulder slammed against the door as they sped out of the driveway and down the street. Businesses and houses blurred past. She gripped at the dashboard, but her hands slipped off from a sheen of instant, fearful sweat. She tried the armrest, then the seat’s bottom, moving in an odd dance of fright, seeking safety and finding none.

“What exactly are you sorry about?” Her voice pitched high. “That the truck has been hijacked or that my clothes have been?”

Edmund looked at the ceiling. “Would you please consider slowing down? You’re scaring her.” He spoke loudly, as if the intended target was hard of hearing.

“Who’s doing this? Who are you talking to? The senator? Did you tell him about the ey—”

He clamped a hand over her mouth and stared at her with such ferocity that fear doubled its speed as it pumped through her veins.

She took that as a no.

He stayed there for a moment and then moved slowly away. She got the point. But enough of this. She had plenty of power to stop this insanity. She reached for the truck’s engine with her vibes. Her energy shimmered and disappeared. “What was that? What just happened?” She tried again, but her vibes faded away. “Oh, good goddess. I can’t cast.” That had never happened before. She couldn’t breathe either. “I can’t cast.” The words became a chant.

He cupped her face, ignoring the steering wheel and anything else to do with driving as the truck plowed down Front Street. “It’s all right, Ror.”

“It’s not.” She shook her head inside his grip as they zipped past Whittier and its path to the junkyard. She almost reached out to it. By comparison, life was safe there. She might hide her crimes, but at least she was in control.

“No one is going to hurt you. You’re on the front page of every newspaper in the Republic. A new enchantress who makes her social debut is big news.” He raised his voice and lifted his eyes to the ceiling. “If anyone hurts you it would be a front page story all over again, and the Republic wouldn’t rest until justice prevails.”

She might have heard a laugh whisper through the cab of the truck.

“What’s going on? And look at the road, for vibes sake!” It was a miracle she could speak around her heart jamming her throat.

He did as she asked, straightening back into his seat, and she suddenly missed his touch. She’d rather die connected to him than alone.

“It’s just a quick trip to the portal.” He plopped his hands on the wheel with a slap. “You’ll be home in no time.”

“Portal? Portals don’t exist!” Her shrill tone scraped at her throat. She lifted a hand to clutch at it as if her air had been stolen along with her vibes. “What game is this?”

“That is the question.” An old woman’s voice played through the air.

Aurora glanced around as if there were actually room in the truck for another passenger to hide.

“Not one I’d choose to play,” Edmund muttered.

“I want out.” She grabbed the door handle. It didn’t move. “How do we get out?” The world edged in, too close without the layer of energy that always surrounded her. It was like missing a hand or her sense of touch. She was incomplete. Her skin brushed the dress’s fabric, dull and lifeless. It might as well have been burlap. Without her energy surrounding her, nothing felt right.

The truck crossed West Sycamore. They shot past the Black Cat Pub only to squeal to a stop as a real black cat darted across the street. She eyed the curb. No cat dashed down the sidewalk. Had it made it? But what could she do if it hadn’t?

“I need my vibes back!”