Lost Magic (The Swift Codex Book 3) (44 page)

We have sought shelter and sanctuary in from ignorant, blind forces such as these, and we will not be driven out. We will unite on this day to protect and safeguard our freedom, peace, and security. We are strong, we are able, and we will never forget the day that brought us together to uphold the light and goodness in this world.

Thank you and good night.

I considered the statement for a minute, pondering a couple paragraphs. In particular the ones about a search being underway and the part about harboring ''militant purists''. How well had I concealed our identities? Would we be recognized?

“Anyone from our coven could claim to be helping to restore order,” Leif said, but his eyes had dark rings underneath them and I had a hard time believing that he was as certain about that as he tried to appear.

“No one can say otherwise,” I said. “And that's good enough in the court of law, isn't it?”

“For now.”

“Yeah,” I sighed and shut my eyes. “Cole is going to see that things change.”

“He will.”

“Think they'll find Selestiani?”

“It is possible if they aren't careful.” Leif folded and unfolded his hands in silent contemplation, and continued, “If this becomes bad, I need you to know that you can trust me, no matter how it may seem.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just say yes, Fera.”

“Alright. I mean, I know I trust you, but why the conversation?”

Leif smiled and stood up, straightening his clothes. “I don't mean anything by it. A flight of fancy, that's all.”

“If you say so,” I said, shaking my head. “Is it possible for this to get worse?”

“As if you had to ask,” Leif said. “Don't you remember who was holding the illusion in place? In full sight of everyone?”

I realized who that was. “Shit, and I broke out of the dungeons, too.”

“We're blaming that on Valerin. They don't need to know the truth,” Leif said. “And in light of the correctional facility's reputation, everyone is pretending that it never happened, anyways. There was no break-out, they still haven't been made fools of. Imagine the repercussions. People would start questioning the government.”

I was shocked into silence, wondering how deep that cover-up had to go.

“And as we can't have you going into a place you disgraced, Barnes did some digging. Know who else was holding the illusion in place in full sight of everyone?”

“Johnson.”

Leif nodded. “Shelly Johnson, quite above suspicion under ordinary circumstances, but I dropped a quote from Commandant Cole's speech, 'We do not differentiate between these militant purists and those who harbor and condone them,' and cast enough shadow of a doubt that I secured equal treatment for you as for her.”

“Cole would not want to see much happen to her,” I said, thinking of both her as a person and of the Immortal which was slowly possessing her little by little. “But he wouldn't be so quick to let me go. What's the punishment?”

Leif shrugged. “Nothing you haven't been through before.”

It was then that I realized: I was back under house arrest.

Home was a mess of blankets and baby clothes. Bottles in the sink, clothes on the counter, diapers in various stages of being washed. The stuff I'd gotten at the baby shower was now just that—stuff. Loads and loads of stuff. None of which I had any use for now.

It didn't make sense to keep any of it.

Mordon and I weren't even married, after all, much less planning to...it felt wrong to say replace her. That was impossible.

I slumped against the wall.

We weren't even married, much less planning to have another kid.

Perhaps she'd come to visit, or would need watching in the future. I was still her guardian, after all.

But by the time that I needed to watch her, she wouldn't be a newborn any longer. All these things were for the very very young. Should she ever be in my care, I'd need all different types of things.

Pity to have gotten so little use out of them. I held up a tiny dress, the yellow polka dot one Mordon had picked out ages ago. It had only been worn a couple times at the most, it was still new. A quick wash, a gentle fold, it'd be good for someone else who found themselves unexpectedly with a tiny body to clothe. I started to put things into a sturdy box.

As I began to get into the flow of tidying up—that's what I told myself I was doing, tidying up—I felt alright. Even just a little bit good. The house was getting clean. I never cared to do the chore daily, sometimes not even weekly.

Presently I needed to pick up various glasses and dishes and put them in the sink. The sink was overflowing, so I washed the stuff in the sink and on the counter beside it. I remembered how the first time I'd turned on the sink water, it had come out bright yellow. Mordon had gone outside to do a purification spell.

I smiled to myself. That had been before I'd known that this place was physically located on the Kragdomen Colony's land. One of the disadvantages of portalling. You never knew where in the world you were. The first dishes were dry, I went to put them away.

The cabinet door wouldn't open. I tugged at it, thinking it was stuck. It still didn't move. On the fourth or fifth yank, I remembered that Leazar had enchanted the cabinets with a safety feature for Anna.

My eyes prickled.

I'd have to figure this out some time or another. The spell wasn't going to go away, not for years.

Which meant I'd have a daily reminder of the child which had turned my life upside down in a day and left just as fast.

I couldn't stand to clean anymore. I went to the bedroom, tripped over the crib, and stubbed my toe. Cursing angrily, I hauled the crib out of my room, left it blocking the hall, and sat down on the bed. Instead of checking my toe, I folded my arms around my knees, and focused on taking one breath after the next.

Mordon found me after I'd regained control over myself, but seeing him undid all the work I'd just done. It was wrong to say he smiled, but he did smile, it just wasn't the happy kind. It was sad and bittersweet, and when he twitched his fingers, I crossed immediately into his arms and wanted to never again let him see the puffy faced monster which I currently was.

“It's stupid, she's not dead or anything,” I said when my throat cleared enough.

“But she is gone.”

He held me a few minutes before I heard the soft sounds of shuffling and people trying to keep quiet in my own house. I sighed. “I don't want to see them.”

“They know. Leif and Barnes and your father made a storage chest. It has the standard vault enchantment, plus a few things I don't know courtesy of your mother and aunt. Lilly said she'd help tidy things up if you don't want to do it.”

I tightened my arms about his chest and thought about it in silence for a minute. “Maybe I'm a coward. I don't want to do it.”

“Do you want to keep the gifts?”

“Is it a good idea, or would it be better to let it go?”

Mordon kissed the tip of my ear. “Half of it we never touched.”

A blush crept up my cheeks. “Do you think we will?”

“Definitely.”

I nodded into his shirt. “Keep it.”

...there was nothing you could have done to prevent it...

The ceiling made for a very boring midnight view, even with the shadows cast by the tops of curtains which blocked out starlight. Usually when I woke, it was a simple case of putting the dream behind me and going back to sleep. Tonight was different. My mind wanted answers that weren't there.

Mordon slept soundly on his side. We'd fallen asleep with our backs pressed together, and I'd woken up at the time Anna had trained me to. I was completely awake.

I rolled out from under too warm covers, crossed the plush rug, and padded down the hallway. From here my choices were limited. If I lit candles, Mordon may come to investigate. Anything stored in the cabinets was effectively locked. My plants in the next room needed no care besides harvesting, and that could get loud. This left me one option.

The bottle of brandy Barnes had secretly gifted me hidden behind the bouquet Lilly had brought.

I tore the wax seal with a long thumbnail, wriggled the cork out, and sat on the counter to enjoy it by moonlight. Sweet fire stung my tongue. I held it in my mouth a moment. Ginger and pear, one of Barnes' experimental recipes. It warmed a path to my stomach. Breathing out the tingle, I flexed my toes in the moonlight. Getting drunk wasn't my goal here—if possible I wanted to avoid that. My foot drew circles in the air.

“You have to stop being culpable when it is not your fault,” Mordon said from his place by the mint green fridge.

I put the bottle by my thigh and looked at him. Despite the late hour, he seemed as awake as if it were mid afternoon.

“Did I wake you?”

“Not really.” He crossed the tile floor with the soft pad of feet, slung an arm around my waist. “The house is too quiet.”

It was the kindest way he could say that he missed Anna, too.

All of the exhausted hurt I'd been feeling throughout the day transformed into something raw, demanding. Weariness surged into strength. Vulnerability ached to be soothed. My skin went electric, catching even the tickle of a hair drawing across my back.

What we'd been through made me amazed we were still alive. I reflected on it briefly, stunned by all we had done together, and floored by how much I owed him.

“I've done the best I could,” I said. “But I wish that I had more to show for it.”

I raised my fingertips to his healing jaw. Another one of his sacrifices. Odds were that it would leave a scar, so far it was paler than his skin rather than darker. His eyes closed. He cupped my hand and kissed the palm.

The world tilted with the thrill that went to my head. I caved into it eagerly.

When we finished, he slumped into a chair, taking me with him by the handful of hair. We didn't speak, just stayed there, me kneeling on the floor, him stroking my jaw and neck in between smoothing out my long hair which had a few tangles in it now. It took me some time before I realized he was singing, very softly, so softly it was an articulate hum interrupted by his kissing me whenever our eyes met or fingers brushed.

He stroked my hair, smoothing out its length down my back, and slowly, softly, he began to sing a song about true love that never dies. The air between us shifted as the minutes went by and the house became completely quiet as one by one the others left without saying a word. At some point, I realized we were alone, entangled in an embrace, and my face was sticky with salt. Without giving an excuse, I got up and went to the kitchen, where everything was orderly and still.

We no doubt looked a mess, neither one of us with our clothes off properly, hair disheveled, dazed expressions on our faces, nothing at all like the sex scenes in movies or as portrayed in art. I didn't care, and I doubted that Mordon cared, either.

“
We should do that again.”

Mordon met my gaze and raised a single eyebrow.

“
Well, not right now. I can't even peel myself off the tile right now. But sometime...”

He smothered my lazy, slurred words in a deep kiss which tasted a little funny. He hugged me, wrapping arms about my shoulders so tightly that I couldn't take a breath. Mordon said, “You were amazing.”

“
I was, wasn't I? Never been like that before, must be something you did.”

Our fingers entwined and I rested my head in his lap, napping a little as he unpicked every knot from my hair, then stroked my shoulders. Eventually, my legs went to sleep and I began to shiver with cold.

“
Your shirt,” he said and dropped a twisted bundle into my hands. It was inside out except for one sleeve and was contorted into a circular rope which took my numb fingers a few minutes to straighten out. It wasn't until I gripped the table to stand and pull up my pants that he sorted out his own clothes.