Swift Magic (The Swift Codex Book 2) (2 page)

“Perhaps you intend to torture or torment me.”

“Is that what you would expect of me?”

“It is what I would expect of certain members of the Cole family.”

“You do not hold their name in high esteem.”

“Gregor Cole was a wendigo. A cannibal with insatiable hunger for flesh and power. I would be very surprised to find that the apple had fallen far from the tree.”

“You hunted him.”

I spoke calmly, just like I did before the court. “It was not I who did the hunting. As a predator, he should have been wiser about his prey.”

The man resumed his finger taps. “If all this happened as you say, then why have you ignored the summons?”

I frowned, hiding my surprise. He had to be taunting me, confusing me with conversation and redirections, a way to get me to contradict myself. “You do realize that anything I say here holds no sway in Merlyn's Court when it next convenes. Besides, arguments are concluded. I have nothing more to do other than wait.”

“Feraline of the Swift Clan, has it ever occurred to you that there may be other parties who have taken an interest in your actions?”

“S
ince the thing you call an infernal noisemaker has entered this house, not much has occurred to me. Even now,” I yawned, “even now it's putting me to sleep.”

“Is that what it does?” The man paused, evaluating me. Having decided that I did look ready to fall asleep in the chair, the man raised his staff and brought it crashing down on the seashell. The silence following its destruction felt perversely incomplete and eerie. The man sat down again. “There. Does that improve the situation?”

“As much as I want to hug you and call you a friend for life, the Council won't be happy
.”

“I do not take the sorcerer's council into consideration with regards to my actions. But now tell me, can you think of no others who would be interested in your guilt or innocence? Have you had no correspondence?”

Now that my head was clearing, I was beginning to wonder. “If you want to see all my letters since moving here, they are in the top drawer at the end of the kitchen.” The woman immediately found them and began to shuffle through the envelopes. “The Council has been regulating my mail. It is possible that things have been sent to me which I did not receive.”

“You still wonder if I was sent to assassinate you?”

“It would be odd of you to ask after my mail if that were the case,” I admitted. “But I cannot think of who else you might represent. The drakes have expressed no desire to pursue a sorcerer's problem. The sorcering community itself I have addressed and am enduring their rules. I cannot think …”

“Does the title Vanguard of the Battalion mean anything to you?”

My brow furrowed. “I haven't heard reference to the Vanguard in years.”

The woman glanced our way.

“It's clear,” she said. Then she made her way to where I always did my structured spells on the floor of the sun room. She seemed to be starting on a portal, but how she intended to break out of this place, I had no idea.

“Well,” the man said. “This would be why we never received confirmation.”

“You're feys. From the Verdant Wildwoods.” I looked between them, very puzzled. “I didn't think they wanted to have anything to do with me.”

“It was wise they sent us first, instead of the Hunters,” the woman said. “Though it was a courtesy in respect to your family, and not routine. I am glad we will not have to force you to return with us.”

“I cannot leave with you now. If I go before the sorcerer's council has given their verdict, I will be a fugitive. Can my arrival before the feys be postponed until tomorrow afternoon?”

The man balled his hand into a fist. “We have our orders. I am sorry. If the Wildwoods finds you innocent, you will be granted asylum there.”

Leaving everything I had worked so hard to build here was not an option, but arguing with these two would be bad. So I shuffled over to their spells on my sun room floor, examining them, buying time. “You can't just portal out. The wards are the same as the ones on the dungeons.”

The woman said, “We would not have come if we did not first have a way out.”

Wordless, I stood behind her, reading what she put down on the bricks. Seeing that I wasn't fighting or running—not that I had anywhere to run to—the man joined her and worked in synch. There was a portal, but there was also an area attack spell, and a modification which would direct the full force of the attack in one direction. The portal contained the same directions and a slight delay.

“You mean to pierce through the wards and follow after with the portal?” I asked.

“It has worked before,” the man said. “If you would remain quiet, please. The details are important to be correct.”

I nodded and watched as they became involved in their calculations and mathematics. When they spoke to one another, I slid my fingers down my necklace, found the invisibility ring, and I put it on. Trinkets had been my link to the sorcering world when I hadn't been able to use magic of my own, now they supplemented my limited strength and control. I stepped out of the blanket and stood in the corner of the room.

Something made my hair stand on end, but it was just a feeling, a premonition. I'd never go so far as to call myself a Seer, but I had a pretty good knack for knowing when things weren't adding up right. While I was looking at the feys and trying to understand what was wrong, the door the watchmen used opened. People entered.

They weren't the watchmen.

Their uniforms weren't made of cloth, but of some pliant plate armor which reflected like dark hide yet shifted like metal. Five people wearing full black fatigues entered my home. They froze upon seeing the fey Vanguards, and the Vanguards froze upon seeing them.

“Ah, Blackwings,” said the fey man. “Always a minute too late and over-encumbered with weapons. Tell me, what honor is there in slaying a sleeping girl?”

The Blackwings had a reputation as being the hired thugs for the sorcerer's ruling class members, but I knew little else about them. They were perhaps like a privatized SWAT team. Ah, here were my assassins.

“Lyall Limber,” said the first Blackwing, easing a wand out of his uniform. “This night has already improved when I can add your head to my trophies.”

Lyall lost his disguise spell and he smiled. “I share your enthusiasm. Run along while you still can.”

I decided to take that as my cue. I made for the french doors which would portal out into the commons lounge.

“Give us the girl. We haven't come for her head,” a different Blackwing said. I hesitated, then decided to keep moving.

The man stepped forward as if to start a fight, nearly bumping straight into me as I cut across his path. Heat skimmed through my veins. Trust me to get between two feuding forces. I relaxed fractionally when I was on the french door side of the room.

The wind stirred the gauzy curtains. I tried to quiet my magic, but it wasn't happening. They'd notice it soon. I reached for the door, planning on wrenching it open and flinging myself through the opening. And I'd just hope against hope that my coven was still awake on the other side, that the room wouldn't be empty, that they'd be able to fend off the unexpected arrival of the Blackwings and maybe the Vanguard. Lyall had told me to run, right?

“Halt!”

A bolt of electricity singed through the air. It struck the door I was about to touch. I jumped, but instead of withdrawing, I pushed myself forward. The doors opened as there came the scuff of boots. I felt my feet lift from the floor as there was a grunt and other spells showered me. The glass panels cracked. Something hit my back, propelling me forward.

Chaos exploded behind me.

I knew they would fight each other, but they would prefer to lay hands on me first. The portal itched as it passed over my skin, as if it were an elastic barrier considering not letting me through.

“Come on!” I didn't know if I said it or just thought it. Had someone modified the portal so it wouldn't let me through? The Blackwings had entered through the usual official entrance, they'd been let in by someone. Had cutting off my escape route also been part of the plan?

“Lyall!” I didn't know why I called to him, I didn't even know how much time had lapsed, just that I didn't seem to be going forward and I couldn't turn my head to look back. If it was another prison spell, I wouldn't be at all surprised.

There was a muttered word right behind me. I felt a groping hand snatch the thin fabric of my night gown. A bit of teal green collided with the portal. With a jolt of white-hot energy, I yanked myself out of my pursuer's grasp. The portal enfolded me, suffocating in its presence, utterly unlike anything I'd experienced before.

I stepped through into my coven's commons lounge, breathing a sigh of relief. The urge to rush to the others and tell them everything hit me at once, but I wasn't sure if that was a great idea. If my coven went and got in the middle of a fight between the Vanguard and the Blackwings, I'd be hard-pressed to get any answers ahead of time. Still, how long could I ignore the idea that my house was a battle site? So long as no one followed me here, I was relatively safe.

I shook my head and took a couple steps into the commons lounge. It was a living, dining, and cooking space which linked to everyone else's homes using portals like mine. I felt the rooms with my magic: no one in the couches or armchairs, everyone except Lilly Frey was around the table. She was in the kitchen.

She was younger than I was, but better filled out, her hair dark auburn and ever gracefully put up. Seldom did she show true happiness, and I thought it was because she hadn't found it within herself yet. Today she didn't wear the gray judge's cowl, it was hanging up on its hook. Lilly had taken to using a pink willow teapot but used it with her sachets instead of the sencha I'd contributed to the cupboards along with a massive cache of food which was now whittling down to nothing without my presence to maintain it.

I'd been so quiet no one had noticed me yet. And they were so calm, I had to assume that no one had come to check on my house yet this morning. It must be very early, then.

Mordon Meadows said, “We need to tell her before these Hunters come. Before was understandable, but this is a serious matter.”

My breathing halted. Alarm and the urge to demand an explanation hit me first, then fury. But I was too stunned to say anything. And Mordon looked so worn down. Oh he'd showered recently and his hair was puffed up, its red curls combed out into a disorder which made the darker and lighter stripes stand out even more than usual. But his hazel eyes didn't have the gleam that I was accustomed to.

Across from him sat Leif Frey, a slender man with a head that never grew hair so his nearly-pointy ears stood out. Lilly's hair at least hid her ears. Nevertheless, the two were distinctly siblings. Leif was a bit older than me. We'd spent the days together while we were children. No matter how often I saw him, his crystalline blue eyes always startled me.

Leif said, “It's not so simple as that. There are ways to handle delicate situations such as these.”

“Put her brother on the case.”

“Conflict of interest. My words, not his, but no less valid. They couldn't take him seriously.”

Leazer had been a few years older than me, and we'd drifted apart as we'd gotten older. Still, he was the family member I talked to the most. Now that Leazar had been mentioned, I had to find my way to the bottom of this. Fury gave way to a sort of calculating vengefulness which I shouldn't let get the better of me, yet I couldn't stop myself. Still mindful of my thinly-clothed body, I snatched a coat off the hook and drew it tight. Then I popped my invisibility ring off.

“Good morning, Coven,” I said, even fooling myself into sounding like there was nothing wrong.

Mordon folded the
Thaumaturgical Tribune
when I entered the dining nook where Leif and Constable Barnes were huddled in a muted conversation. Biting the inside corner of my lip, I glanced at where Lilly was pouring herself tea, missing the cup as she tried to act normal.