Treasures, Demons, and Other Black Magic (7 page)

I eyed Blackwell, who was smiling at me like a proud father showing off a talented child. I scanned the room, noting the different flavors of magic that created the individual wards. Blackwell’s treasure hunting was obviously a hereditary trait. Many of the wards were constructed not by him alone, but by Adepts who shared his underlying magic.

“It’s an impressive collection, sorcerer,” I said. “I assume it’s one of your newest additions you want me to look at?”

Blackwell nodded, but before he could indicate the way, I stepped by him through the first rows of artifacts and moved toward the center of the gallery.

I could taste Blackwell’s magic up ahead — the rich, earthy cabernet he emitted, not the day-old cheap wine of the fog spell. The difference was worth investigating but wasn’t on today’s to-do list.

Drake scanned the gallery almost systematically as he followed behind Kett and me. There was no hint of his ever-present grin on his face now. Dragons weren’t big on this sort of accumulation of power. Blackwell was lucky that Pulou, the treasure keeper, wasn’t with us. I wondered what rules the dragons followed. Could they just seize Blackwell’s collection, or did they need cause to do so? And if they could, why hadn’t they done so already?

Kandy stayed by the entrance with her arms tucked behind her back. Smart wolf. She couldn’t see magic like Kett, Drake, and I could. I imagined she didn’t want to tangle with any more of Blackwell’s spells. She still had the silver burns that I’d seen on her skin in the guardroom. They were fading now, but she usually healed much more quickly.

Blackwell had a dark edge. If he decided to not be gentle while surrounded by these many magical objects, we’d definitely be more than bruised.

Something caught my attention, and I paused to stare at a curtained alcove to my far right. A few statues of various origins and materials stood between it and me, but I could clearly taste the pulse of magic hidden within the alcove — stronger than anything outside it. Blackwell’s magic overlaying something …

“Here,” Blackwell said. He rested a prompting hand on the back of my shoulder. I slowly turned my head to look him in the eye. His nose was even with my forehead. He didn’t remove his hand … in fact, his smile widened.

I felt my own smile spreading deliberately across my own face in response. Then I did something I’d never done aggressively before. I reached out with my alchemist power and grabbed a bit of Blackwell’s magic from where his hand rested on my shoulder. I gave it a tug.

My stomach churned as the taste of red wine flooded my mouth. But Blackwell’s reaction was worth the nausea. He blanched and snatched his hand away from me.

My don’t-touch-me point made, I raised an eyebrow and inclined my head to indicate I was ready to move forward.

Blackwell rubbed his thumb across his palm and looked at me thoughtfully. That little power play might have been a bad idea. I mean, he must already get that I wasn’t just a witch with an affinity for dowsing, but maybe it wasn’t a great idea to display unusual powers to a collector. I was already on Kett’s shelf. I didn’t need Blackwell’s rapt attention any more than I already had it.

“Just here,” Blackwell said as he stepped by me to draw my attention to a long wooden table in the very middle of the gallery. A circle was carved into the stone floor all around it. A straight-backed chair — also made out of solid, chunky wood — stood at one end, but this wasn’t a dining table. It looked like a workstation. Or, rather, a place to collect bits and pieces of objects, jewels, and other knickknacks.

My fingers immediately itched to surf the magic of the broken items, to pluck out the glimmers that called to me and make them into a new whole.

Cool fingers brushed against the inner wrist of my left hand. Kett, cautioning me. I looked up from the table to find Blackwell watching me far too closely.

“Your magic is very intriguing, Jade Godfrey,” the sorcerer said. “I do wish we were convening under better circumstances.”

I opened my mouth to rip his head off over those ‘circumstances’ but Kett brushed his cold fingers against my wrist again.

I clamped my mouth shut and clenched my hands. It was interesting that the sorcerer could see my magic, as I couldn’t. I often wondered if I tasted more like my mother’s witch magic or my father’s dragon magic, or if I was some unique taste altogether.

I stepped over the carved circle that encircled the table. Within it, I caught a glimpse of inactive runes.

The vampire followed me over the ward line, but Drake didn’t. I guessed that this inactive ward snapped into place if anything went wrong when Blackwell was inspecting the pieces he laid out on the table. By ‘wrong,’ I was thinking magical backlash that could potentially harm the collection. Or interact with it badly.

Again, I itched to touch it all, wondering what he did with the bits he deemed useless. In my hands, they could be made whole again. To him, they were probably garbage.

A wooden box, eight inches square, sat before the single chair at the end of the table. Blackwell circled to stand before it. He opened the lid and looked up at me expectantly.

I circled in the opposite direction until I stood by Blackwell, with Kett practically glued to my side.

A silver circle some six-and-half-inches across was nestled in the chest. A different rune — or so I guessed, as it wasn’t a language I could read — was carved every two inches or so into the silver band. What looked like rough-cut diamonds were embedded into the metal between these runes.

“Silver doesn’t hold magic well,” I said, thinking out loud.

“It’s platinum,” Blackwell said.

Ah, silly me.

“The diamonds are huge.” The gemstones looked as if they’d been chiseled out of the earth and simply crammed into the platinum band by raw, brutal alchemy. I wasn’t the only one who made magical objects, but there wasn’t a long list of people who could do so. Actually, according to the dragons, I might be the only one currently living. Yeah, that wasn’t overwhelming at all.

“It’s a collar?”

“A circlet, I believe,” Blackwell answered. There was something lurking in the smoothness of his tone that I didn’t want to identify or even know about.

The circlet or headband didn’t emit any obvious magic, but still I hesitated to touch it. It was almost as if it repelled me … or more like it was a small, malignant void just sitting pretty in its wooden box. A tiny black hole in the guise of a jeweled coronet.

“Will it harm me?”

“You tell me.”

Asshole sorcerer.

“Have you touched it?”

Blackwell shuddered at this question. So that was a yes.

“I don’t like it.” I directed this statement to Kett, who was standing so close to me I could see his magic dancing in his skin. This display always reminded me how far the vampire was from human. He was like animated magic … or maybe the corpse of his previous self reanimated by magic, with its memories and thoughts intact. But ‘reanimated’ wasn’t the perfect word …

“Yes,” Kett answered. “I can see.”

“Tell me what it is. What its function is, dowser,” Blackwell said. “And I will set you on your sister’s trail … if you’re up for it.”

I wasn’t sure if he meant identifying the object or hunting Sienna, but I really wasn’t up for either. Of course, I did a lot of things I didn’t want to do these days.

I reached out and hovered my hands over the circlet. Nothing happened. Always a good start.

I lowered my hand, but at the last second, I chose to avoid touching the circlet. I pressed my finger into the velvet cushion in the very center of the platinum circle. Blackwell really had an unhealthy thing for plush fabrics with heavy napes.

I exhaled. Nothing happened.

I inhaled, about to lift my finger and actually touch the band, when a pulse of multicolored magic spread from carved rune to gem to carved rune all around the circlet.

Then the magic clamped down on my finger.

I screeched and yanked my hand back. The feeling instantly dissipated. The glow faded from the runes.

“What color was the magic?” Kett asked.

“All colors. You couldn’t see?”

Kett nodded. He was just questioning his senses, I guessed.

“But I think the runes and gems color the spell,” I said. “Not the … alchemist who created this.”

“Created what?” Blackwell asked, eagerness edging his tone.

I was fairly certain Blackwell already had his suspicions. But instead of answering, I reached out and pressed my fingertips to the outside of the band, carefully not touching the runes, gems, or inside edge. I lifted the circlet from the box.

I gazed through the circle as if it was a window. The magic didn’t try to grab me again. I hesitated to tell Blackwell any of what I was tasting, but I felt compelled by the bargain we’d struck in the courtyard.

“Hold it like this and it won’t affect you,” I said, turning to pass the circlet to the sorcerer.

He carefully placed his fingers next to mine until he held the full weight of the platinum band.

“It’s deceptively light for something so terrible,” I said.

“Yes?” Blackwell lifted the circlet and looked through it as I had. For a moment, the inner edge caught the reflection of the sorcerer’s eyes, and I had to look away from the yawning chasm of greed I saw there.

“Do you have others?”

Blackwell hesitated, but then said, “No.”

I looked at Kett, who always seemed to know when people spoke the truth — maybe he noted their heart rates — and the vampire nodded.

“What is it?” Blackwell actually seemed to have an excess of spit in his mouth.

I turned away, sweeping my gaze across the parts of the gallery I hadn’t walked through. Drake was leaning against the stand of a smiling Buddha. I almost cautioned him from doing so, but then stopped myself. Obviously, the micro wards didn’t bother the fledgling guardian. His deceptively casual stance was probably for Blackwell’s benefit, because the fledgling was as unsettled as I was. Now that I was looking for it, I noted that a number of the alcoves had their curtains drawn, and a few pedestals were draped with red velvet. It bothered me that Blackwell didn’t have his entire collection on display. I was going to have to walk away, to hand him more power, and take his clue in order to save Mory and stop Sienna.

And that was my ultimate responsibility.

I offered Drake a sad smile. He shrugged in response, bowed his head, and turned to walk back to Kandy at the front entrance.

“You understand that such a thing as this would not hold me, Drake, or Kett for very long. But we would be terribly angered by its use.”

Blackwell nodded. I was fairly certain he was barely listening to me. He was just waiting for the punch line.

“It’s a dampener,” I finally said, not looking at Blackwell as I spoke. Kett stiffened — though I wouldn’t have thought that possible — beside me. “A magical suppressor, as far as I can tell.”

Blackwell expelled a breath. Then, smiling to himself, he carefully placed the circlet back in the chest.

“It drains magic?” Kett asked.

“No. Is that even possible? I think it just holds it in place.”

“Rendering the Adept human,” Blackwell said. I really didn’t like the barely contained glee evident in his tone.

“Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe it simply stops them from using their magic, which is why it wouldn’t hold a vampire for long.” Vampires were made of magic, or at least Kett was to my eyes. The dampener — placed on a vampire — would have nothing specific to grab a hold of and then restrict.

Blackwell turned to look at me. His hand was placed possessively on the lid of the wooden box. “And why is that, dowser?” the sorcerer asked.

I smiled. “That information isn’t part of our deal, sorcerer.”

Blackwell inclined his head.

“Now for your part,” Kett said.

Blackwell nodded. “We’ll need to go to the library.”

“Lead the way,” I said.

Blackwell tucked the wooden box underneath his arm and headed back the way we came.

I tried to not worry about the information I’d just traded. I tried to not worry about what was behind all the curtained alcoves. The treasures contained in this room no longer dazzled me. I just hoped that Blackwell was so careful and jealous that those treasures never left the confines of their wards and these stone walls.

Though, honestly, for a moment, I did think about pulling out my sword and destroying everything in my path. It was a silly but compelling thought.

Instead, I laced my fingers through Kett’s cool ones and stared at the midpoint of Blackwell’s back. The familiar peppermint taste of the vampire’s magic filled my senses, clearing my sinuses of all the other magic in the gallery.

This wasn’t the worst thing I was going to have to do to get through this Sienna debacle. But it saddened me to think about how Blackwell might use that circlet.

I freed myself from Kett’s fingers and stepped from the gallery. Drake, Kandy, and Blackwell had already exited before Kett and me. Blackwell raised the ward over the door as I passed. Stupid sorcerer. I’d already tasted this magic, and it wouldn’t hold me at bay anymore if I wanted in.

I’d be back, I promised myself. When and why and how, I didn’t know. Except that the circlet didn’t belong in Blackwell’s collection.

∞

Blackwell led us diagonally across the main entrance and then up a twist of circular stone stairs that were way too narrow and confining for my taste. McGrowly would have had to walk at an angle to get his shoulders through. Coming down was totally going to be worse.

As immediately as he sprung to mind, I determinedly avoided thinking about Desmond Charles Llewelyn, Lord and Alpha of the West Coast North American Pack. I hadn’t even heard his voice in the last three and a half months, because I hadn’t called him. I didn’t like the way the life debt bond I owed him compelled our so-called relationship. And magic or no magic, I didn’t need any of it interfering with finding Mory and stopping Sienna.

Instead of thinking of my would-be shapeshifter lover, I imagined how Kett would be full of information about the narrow stairs making it easier to defend the castle. Forcing intruders into single file would mean that a single sorcerer on the top landing could pick them off one by one. But would Adepts who could scale walls or tear down doors ever be stupid enough to get trapped like this? Castle living was so not for me.