Enchanter's Echo (12 page)

As if answering in the negative, the truck peeled forward.

“I’d offer you mine, but....” He shrugged away his offer.

She clasped his hand. “Yes! Please. Give me your vibes.”

He didn’t.

“What are you waiting for?” she cried.

“I…uh…we did it once before. You pulled vibes from me. But then you stopped.”

“Because you didn’t like it.”

“I liked it, but I didn’t see how you could possibly like it.” Wrinkles creased his forehead, his tone genuine but slow, as if he were sauntering down memory lane instead of barreling through the city in an out-of-control truck.

“I liked it! It was bubbles and tickles everywhere.” The rush of her words lent sarcasm to the truth. “Now please! Help. Me.” She’d never had a conversation in which she’d yelled nearly every comment.

“I’d never done that before. Do you do it with every lover?” he asked, much too slowly.

She clapped her hands twice. “Edmund, focus! I have no vibes. I’m going to throw up.”

Those were magic words. Dark energy waved over her, ocean foam meeting the sandy shore. His vibes slipped beneath her ridiculous medieval dress and down the bodice, coating her from the soles of her feet to the top of her scalp.

This wasn’t the warm, vibrant touch of the light. This was crisp, cool sheets on a freshly made bed, that slippery feeling that seduced a body into letting go. His vibes danced along her skin, coaxing her to open to his touch, inviting her to drown in his essence. A safe temptation. Like fitting a square peg in a round hole, his vibes could never enter the nature of her being short of a spell intended to wound.

She took a breath, his vibes like a shield holding the world at bay. It cured her nausea but not her fear. She needed out. She needed her energy back.

He studied her. “Does this make you feel better? No one likes my vibes.”

“I like your vibes.” Her rushed words had a hard beat. “Living in that castle has warped your perception. Your parents should have fostered you to someone dark.” But a founding family would never give up their heir.

They passed a deli and then a coffee shop. The Justice Center and City Hall loomed ahead.

Desperate hope bubbled up. “The enforcers hang out around here. Maybe we can flag one down and get help.” Passing a doughnut shop, she could see two sitting inside. She pounded on the truck’s window. “Help!”

“It’s okay, Ror. She needs us alive. Trust me.” He reached for her hand. “It feels so good to give my vibes away. I have to stifle them all the time.”

She turned to glare at him. “Trust you? It’s hard to trust you when you’re not telling me anything.” She tried the door handle again. “And you and thousands of other mages shouldn’t need to stifle your vibes.”

He gave a hard laugh. “You think we should all get together and demand respect?” He thrust his arm across her chest. “Hang on.”

Tires squealed as the truck slammed into a left turn on West Broad. She plowed into Edmund’s arm as they came to a halt in the middle of the street. The doors opened. She jumped out.

With her first step, her slipper tangled in the thick skirts. Her vibes stolen, she had only her hands to stop her fall. She smacked onto the street’s cold pavement. Her dress billowed around her with a puff of air. She echoed the sound with a relieved sigh despite the throbbing in her palms and knees. Freedom. Safety. Well, safer, surely.

She struggled to stand, but her foot was still caught. Still on all fours, she scrambled away from the looming truck as if the thing might sidestep toward her and scooped her back in. Starry vibes, she might never get into another vehicle again.

“Princess.” Edmund stopped at her side, blocking the wind with his body and his vibes. His dark, wavy hair didn’t lift a strand, nor did the stiff, thick doublet move. “You all right?”

She was a bit lower than eye-level with his crotch, which was clearly defined by the black hose. Her breath caught and she stared, her gaze following him down as he crouched next to her, erasing the view. With a blush at her medieval naughtiness, she jerked her eyes to his face.

“Vow loyalty to Rallis. Right now.” The grim line of his mouth alarmed her. But still…

“No.”

He continued as if he’d expected that answer. “My vibes will blur your mind to her some, but block your thoughts. Control your face. Do anything to keep her as far from your emotions as possible. And try not to let her touch you. Do that and everything will work out splendidly.”

“Splendid?” she practically spat the word. “I don’t do splendid. I do kindness and caring, nurturing, and love. Splendid is jewels and kings and queens and extravagant beauty dripping everywhere, coated with gold and—”

“Sweetheart, stick a tiara on your head and you’re the definition of splendid.” His tight tone matched his firm grip on her elbow. He stepped back and pulled her to her feet. Tucking her arm into his, he tugged her toward the sidewalk.

She balked. The golden dress swished around her. “I’m not moving another inch until you tell me what’s going on.”

As they stood in the middle of the downtown street, a car stopped at the intersection despite the green light. The passenger got out and captured Edmund’s well-trained smile with an image spell that flashed in the air. Aurora would have been embarrassed if she had emotion to spare. As it was, the pit of fear in her gut sucked down every sentiment.

A soft snort sounded behind her. She twisted around. The city truck was gone. In its place was a golden carriage with six black horses stomping their hooves and blowing steam from their nostrils.

Had it been summer and not the dead of winter, she might have thought it was Rallis Day. The festival was in May and included carriage rides through the city—though nothing as fancy as this carriage—as well as boat rides on the Santa Maria docked on the Scioto River behind City Hall. Festival-goers donned costumes from the past and lined the streets with their brightly colored dresses and doublets. Her father had refused to attend, as he had all public events, but she’d always wanted to go.

“Me, too, enchantress!” a woman hollered from behind her. “This is our chance!”

Aurora turned back.

The white marble of City Hall towered above a row of neatly lined-up stunted trees that were forever imprisoned in a sea of concrete. In front of it, a bronze statue of Christopher Columbus, the daring and sly mage credited with discovering the New World, stood fifty feet high. An elderly lady stood next to its base. Her long, silver hair hung over a simple gray cape that covered her from her shoulders to feet. Her eyes were closed and thick black lashes graced the skin beneath. She clasped a branch-like staff that reached a foot above her head.

It was the staff that clued Aurora in.

Goddess, gracious and powerful, this was no old woman. Those were not dark lashes beneath her closed eyes. No, those were stitches of black thread holding her eyes closed. Aurora shuffled back as fear roped her gut. She made it three steps before Edmund caught her around the waist.

He whispered in her ear, “I’m here with you. Right by your side.”

She nodded mindlessly. His touch stopped her fear from tightening further. A foolish reaction. Even Edmund couldn’t defeat the High Councilor.

The High Councilor of the Republic of Mage Territories waved in enthusiastic greeting. “Enchantress! Your snail’s pace heightens my anticipation of our time together.”

Time together? To do what? Torture her for violating the Law of—

“Block your thoughts. Think of nothing. Go blank.” Edmund doled out advice as he pulled her toward the Republic’s most powerful crone.

Every wrong thought raced forward, unstoppable in their apparent eagerness for her execution. Without her vibes, she had no defense. Fear pulled a tunnel of blackness around her, and her vision dimmed. As she swayed on her feet, a searing whiff of vinegar burst into her nostrils. Her senses reopened.

Ahead, the High Councilor waggled an eyebrow. The old woman had cast a spell sending the vicious scent to Aurora’s nose. Likely she preferred her victims conscious.

As Edmund and Aurora came closer, a young woman appeared in the open doorway of the statue’s base. She stepped out as if the city should applaud, grateful for her presence. Though her cape matched the High Councilor’s, she made sure to thrust her bare leg through the opening when she walked, revealing her sleekness. Despite the sneer on her face, she was stunning, and she knew it. As she strutted forward, Aurora rethought her age. A teen, not an adult. Her pale blond hair crowned her head in tight braids, her milky complexion equally perfect, minus the disdain.

“Enchantress,” the High Councilor said, “meet my apprentice.” The old woman rubbed the girl’s hair in a mockery of affection, leaving a spray of tangled strands in her wake. “She’s ready to rule our fine Republic the moment I croak and would like to help me on my way however she can. I like to take her on my rounds. Makes people appreciate me.”

The apprentice flicked her fingers against her hair and spelled it back to perfection. She looked Aurora up and down. “I’ve never met a girl raised in a junkyard before.” She shifted her gaze to Edmund. “And he’s so dark he must have been shat from the bowels of the Earth.”

Edmund bowed. “A rare find is your apprentice to make such observations, Lady High Councilor.”

The girl lifted her chin. “My power is far better than you can fathom.”

“Then how gracious you are to deem yourself a servant of the Republic,” Edmund smiled and tipped his head, the retorts flowing as if his tongue bore a non-stick spell. “The gratitude of the citizens must overwhelm.”

The High Councilor tilted her head. “Well put, young Edmund. Servants of the people. A humbling task.” She shifted her blind gaze to Aurora. “Though humility doesn’t always serve. Glitter and gold, when allowed into the light, sparkle far into the distance to touch many versus a mere few.”

Behind her, a man, dressed in the same pale gray of the High Councilor’s robe, stepped out of the statue’s opening. Another and then another poured out. Guards. Guards who could arrest or simply kill enchantresses who violated the laws. Aurora’s head spun only to encounter the acrid smell again. It went straight to her every nerve, jerking them stiff and brittle until they threatened to shatter.

“Go on, young prince. Lead this enchantress to the boat before she runs out of strength like a lily-livered liability.” The High Councilor gave an eerie chuckle.

“A cold day for a sail, Lady.” Edmund pulled Aurora along. She flattened herself to his side, so stiff that she lurched and wobbled with her first steps. He kept her steady.

The High Councilor walked at her other side. The young apprentice took up the rear. Aurora looked back. The calculating cruelty in the girl’s eyes was startling.

The old woman looked back over her shoulder at the girl and then turned her sightless gaze on Aurora. “Don’t mind her. Oracles. We take quite awhile to mature. It’s a serious investment of time to wring out their snootiness. The smarter they are, the longer they take. I’ve never known one to take so long. I recently acquired another oracle though, so if this apprentice doesn’t work out, I have a spare.”

Acquired. Horror sank through her. Some family had lost a child to the High Councilor. Aurora clung tighter to Edmund’s arm. A new tension vibrated through him as well, but he continued to guide her down the sidewalk and around City Hall, playing a game she wanted no part of.

Ahead, a small park spread out to the Scioto River’s bank. Through the bare trees, the river glimmered in the pale cloudlight, and the working replica of the Santa Maria bobbed in greeting with the wind.

From the corner of her eye, Aurora caught sight of a few thin strands of the High Councilor’s long white hair dancing high. It moved unnaturally, into the wind instead of with it. She turned back to see the apprentice smirking. The girl shifted her gaze to Aurora. She winked and let her spell become visible in the air. A stream of light led from the girl’s fingertips to the back of the High Councilor’s head. The powerful woman was oblivious.

“
The new oracle,
”—the apprentice spelled the words to Aurora’s ear—”
he’s five days old today. So sweet. Poor baby
.” The girl’s face drooped. It almost looked sincere.

Aurora shivered.

“The enchantress needs to warm herself,” Edmund stated. Though she was cold, he’d misread that shiver. “Would you consider returning her vibes?”

“You warm her,” the High Councilor croaked. “You’re a man of strength and power. Look at those legs you’ve got. Muscles!” She lifted her staff. Reaching behind Aurora, she poked his rear-end.

He jumped a foot off the ground.

The old woman cackled. “And what a fine gluteus maximus! I believe your mage power is even finer. So use it.” She sighed. “I remember a boy like you once. Drew me in with his flame, his fire. Smooth, meaty lines over every inch. Closer to a foot,” she cackled. “If you get my meaning.”

“Gross,” the girl intoned from behind them, stretching the word into two syllables.

“A foot long?” Edmund said. “Was his flame in a barbeque pit?”

Aurora elbowed his ribs. Hard. She was a peasant stuck in the middle of the byplay between the rulers of this kingdom, and her only ally had no censor.

The High Councilor barked a laugh. “Oh, the things I did with his spatula.” The crack of a whip sounded in the air, then again. No, not a whip. A spatula.

The crone’s wrinkled face smoothed to perfection, her silver hair drowned in deep, dark black—instant youth with mind-blowing beauty. And then it was gone, back to old. “Just yesterday, perhaps. But how should I know? When one has as many memories as I do, it’s hard to keep them straight.”

“I can help you keep them straight. Just give me those memories and the spells,” the apprentice offered. Aurora didn’t look back, knowing the girl’s eyes wouldn’t match the sweetness of her voice. “After all, I already have a few spells. I’m strong enough for the rest.”

The High Councilor pivoted toward her apprentice. Her face rippled beneath her skin. As her cheeks thinned and lengthened, her mouth opened, as if pulled by growing muscles. The pointy teeth of a beast appeared. The frightening countenance radiated inhuman fury.