Magic's Design (6 page)

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Authors: Cat Adams

BOOK: Magic's Design
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“But where did she get the money?” Conversation in the other room stopped, and Tal realized he’d spoken aloud. The slatted door opened, and Mila gave him an annoyed glare.
“Well, you might as well come in if you’re going to eavesdrop.” The door closed again, leaving him to blush in peace. But after a moment, when the silence continued to drag on, he was forced to take a deep breath and push open the door.
The same scent of flowers and fresh herbs, but far stronger, struck him the moment he entered the tidy kitchen, filled with bright colors and dark wood. Most of the floral scent originated from Mila. It was sweet, but not cloying—more the fresh subtlety of a cool orchard than a garden. Cherries and orange blossoms, with apple overtones. He realized he was just standing there, sampling the air while staring at her. And she was staring back, her nostrils flared and eyes wide.
It was Candy who cleared her throat with an impish smile that made both of them start. Mila’s face immediately dropped from the slight smile to a more disapproving expression that matched her earlier words.
“So, how much did you hear?” Mila tried to sound stern, but her light blush gave her away, and when he smiled, her eyes dropped to examine her oddly translucent teacup on the table.
“Introductions first, Mila. Where are your manners?” Again the younger woman reddened, all the way to her ear tips. The old woman dipped her head and waved a hand at an empty seat. Her thick accent made all of the vowels round and expressive. It was obvious English wasn’t her first language. “I am Nadia Penkin.” He sat down dutifully and dipped his head as she continued. “This is my granddaughter, Ludmila Penkin and her friend, Candace Hawkins.”
“Most people call me Mila.” She shrugged and caught his gaze again with those dark eyes, so that he barely heard her friend in the corner.
“And I’m Candy.”
Manners forced his gaze away from Mila once more. Bowing his head slightly, he decided that trying to pretend he was a simple human was useless considering Mrs. Penkin’s abilities … and her threats upstairs. “I am Craftman Talos Onan, a midlevel commander in the Overworld Police Agency. My friend upstairs is Alexy Duvrot. We are—”
“You are a mage. Your friend is an alchemist—a dirtdog,” said Nadia. “Fellow Guilders.”
“Baba, what is a
Guilder?
” Mila blurted the words out, her frustration apparent. “You keep saying that like I should know.”
Tal opened his mouth to reply, but again Nadia spoke up, in outraged surprise.
“How you not know, Mila? I tell you many stories when you are little about the Guilders. The caves … we go visiting when you are young.” She gestured to Candy. “I take
both
of you, so I can show you our ways. How you not know?”
Mila and Candy exchanged confused looks and shrugs. But moments later, Candy’s face registered understanding. “Wait! Do you mean the
geeders?
The tiny Ukrainian magic folk who live underground like fairies?
Those
stories?”
This time, Nadia’s face looked confused as she mouthed the words, but then she laughed. “Ah. I see. My English, it was not so good when I came here to America. I not say all the letters like I do now. Yes. Yes, these men are
geeders.
But proper is Guilders, and not so tiny. You see?” She patted a hand gently on Tal’s arm, then turned his wrist over to show the birthmark on his forearm. She fingered it a moment and furrowed her brow, making him squirm in embarrassment. His mark was faint and twisted—a mark that should belong to an apprentice instead of a crafter. “This is Guilder. He is mage … fire guild. You see his mark? Like the one on your middle toe. His friend is alchemist, earth guild, like your baby toe. Sela, she was water witch guild, like your second toe.”
“What do you mean,
like my toes?
What do those designs you painted there have to do with any of this?”
The old woman looked taken aback by Mila’s words. She reared back in her chair and watched the young woman carefully for a long moment before asking a question that seemed as steeped in careful wording as a criminal interrogation. “You remember … Viktor’s gardens? Yes?”
Only Candy’s eyes widened in excitement. “
Ohmygod!
I loved the gardens! The spinning flowers, the wishing pond, and oh—remember all the Christmas trees?” She stared at her friend’s blank face in astonishment. “C’mon, Mila. How could you forget those purple whatzits? The sparkling flowers you begged your mother to buy for
months
.”
The grandmother’s voice was cold when she spoke, her eyes flashing from an anger that was so deep it could produce any result. Tal felt his hand tighten on where his focus should be and realized it might have been foolish to throw it through the gate.
“She’s forgotten because she was
made
to forget.” Then started a string of words that were more muttering than conversation. Nadia touched the golden necklace she wore and then threw her hands wide as though to embrace the Tree. “She promised … swore on her
mark
she would not do this thing. Who knows what might be altered, or
lost
inside the mind? No, it must not stand. But first I must know more from your mother, Mila. It was done to you a very bad thing.”
Mila’s face grew alarmed, as it should. If she was right …
craters,
a memory alteration spell. That must be what Nadia was alleging happened. It was illegal in all the known realms, so she was right to be angry with whoever had done it! To remove the training of a Guilder forcibly was dangerous in the extreme. It could cause wild manifestations of magic because of the loss of knowledge of how to control the power.
Tal cleared his throat to catch their attention. “That could have legal repercussions if true. Please tell me … I’ve never felt magic such as yours. What guild do you craft under? Who should I contact to report this violation of your granddaughter?”
Mrs. Penkin growled, a deep snarl that could easily have come from an angry animal. “To tell that tale, you must first be refreshed. Mila, you will tell me what refreshment he requires, please.” At Mila’s startled expression she rolled her hand. “Quickly, quickly. You must think … what is that expression … on your toes now. We must learn what damage has been done.”
“But how—” Her confusion was obvious as she raised her hands in frustration. “If this is something I used to do, I don’t remember it. I just don’t remember, Baba. How can I?”
Her grandmother sighed. “Is like egg rolling, yes? You use your
other
eyes to see his pain and weaknesses. Close the eyes that see this world to see the next. Try hard to remember how we played the healing games. You will have to fight to find your past, Mila, to find the truth of my words. At each of us you look, tell us what we need.” She clapped her hands sharply, making all of them jump.
Mila looked to Candy for guidance, but she just waved her hands before raising herself to sit on the dark granite countertop. “Not my thing, remember? I never could
see
sickness like you guys could. Can’t focus what’s not there, sweetie. But c’mon. You used to do it all the time. I’ll bet if you try you can.”
Tal stood up to go back and join Alexy in investigating. There was nothing to be learned here that wasn’t simple curiosity. He wanted no part of an apprentice’s attempt to rediscover her magic. He didn’t have the time or energy to waste fending off miscast spells.
But it was as though the old woman had read his mind. “No fretting, young mage. Mila was very skilled for one so young. She will remember if she tries. Sit, please, yes? This will help you and your friend greatly. My mark’s vow.”
That stopped him. A Guilder didn’t call upon their birthmark to make an oath lightly, and her eyes bore out the promise when he turned to meet them. Under the circumstances, he shouldn’t trust her—shouldn’t trust any of them. And yet he did. He’d learned to trust his instincts, in the same way he’d trusted them to leave his post and check the prison perimeter. He tried to put aside his concerns and open himself to the experience. Perhaps there were things here that could benefit him. And he really had no idea where to start searching for the gate until Alexy was done. “Very well. But I must insist that no magic leave the premises, nor change any aspect of the evidence. And, if either of us is attacked, we’ll defend ourselves by the full measure of the Saxon Accords.”
Mila and Candy had wide eyes from his warning. He had seen the look before, and it mollified him slightly, because it was born of both fear and lack of understanding, rather than any sort of deviousness. But Mrs. Penkin merely nodded. “Is fine. I would expect such a response, but we will not attack, yes?” She held up a hand and pointed it to the stove in the far corner of the large room. “Mila, you will stand there so you can see us without turning.” When she didn’t immediately jump to her feet, the grandmother clapped her hands again. “Come, come. We have little time and much to do. The mage will not harm us so long as we do not harm him or hide things from him. Those are the elements of the Accord.” She turned her head and raised her brows. “Yes?”
A quick nod was all he could manage before Mila was on her feet and stepping lightly to the corner of the room. His eyes followed her automatically, even when he tried to pull them away.
“I’ll do my best, Baba. It’s been a long time, but hopefully it’s like riding a bike, and I’ll remember as I go.”
Once in the corner backed by the stove, she took a solid stance and cupped her hands lightly at her sides. The muscle memory of the act seemed to surprise her and she let out a slow breath then looked relieved.
She closed her eyes and a shudder overtook her. Without warning, a cloud of energy settled around his shoulders. It was fluffy, frothy, like being covered in cotton, fresh from the fields. He closed his eyes and could see the net of magic that she’d thrown around the room. No mere spell, this. She was the energy, and he could feel it press at him, raise the hairs on his skin until he shivered with anticipation. His own power, what little was left, rose to greet this tentative touch, and it leapt up like pouring fuel on a flame.
He was enveloped, consumed, and the force of it made him place palms on the table to keep from falling out of his chair. With a gasp, he opened his eyes and could see the magic in the air … ghostly tendrils that dipped and danced, but with purpose.
Candy was awestruck, her eyes following the threads around almost hypnotically. Nadia Penkin merely smiled and nodded, as if to say,
You see? She has been trained.
The magic began to swirl around him now, in tighter circles. He caught his breath and closed his eyes once more as the cottony sensation turned to an urgent stroking that did more to his body than simply raise hairs.
Every nerve was alive and raw as strokes became pinpoint prickles that both hurt and felt wondrous. The scent of flowers became pine needles, then fresh dew on a cool morning. Trickles of water rolled down his face, or maybe it was just his imagination. But he certainly wasn’t imagining how his body was hardening, in a skin-tightening rush that began to heave his chest. It was only through sheer willpower that he didn’t snarl and rush across the room to grab Mila and kiss her. He wanted to run hands along her sweat-soaked bare skin, bury his face in that long hair and have her until his flesh was satisfied. Even gritting his teeth couldn’t keep back the involuntary moan as he struggled, and that’s when he saw Nadia’s brow furrow with the beginnings of concern.
When he finally turned his gaze to Mila, she was wide-eyed, her hair blowing in the wind of energy she was creating. She was beautiful, wild, and as hungry as he.
He watched without moving has she moistened pink lips nervously. Her nipples hardened to tiny pebbles under her shirt as he stared, as the magic began to affect her, and she squirmed in her stance, trembling with need.
She shook her head frantically as if to fight off the sensations, but she was losing. It only made it that much more difficult not to bolt from his seat. He closed his eyes again and concentrated on the patterns of colors. But even they were erotic in his current state, flowing and dancing … sometimes fluid and other moments twitchy and desperate. His hands ached to touch something and nothing he did could end it, not with the taste of magic in the room.
Finally he could stand no more—he didn’t care who would see, or what they would think. He opened his eyes and stared at her, looking for some sign. Her lips opened and she reached out one hand. When he stood, she moved forward in anticipation and even Nadia’s frantic hand pulling at his cloak wasn’t enough to stop him.
But then the telephone jangled, harsh and jarring. Just that tiny sound was enough to break the spell and Tal was able to stop himself before he reached her.
“Hello?” When he heard Candy answer he looked up and realized it was her mobile phone that had rung, rather than the house unit. Mila was looking rather sheepish, leaning against the oven door with head hung, contemplating her shoes. Tal couldn’t help but admit that he felt the same.
Tree help me, the things I was thinking.
His own mother would have backhanded him if she’d known and he was a little surprised that Mrs. Penkin, while watchful, wasn’t berating him.

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