Demon's Cradle (Devany Miller Book 3) (26 page)

“No, he hasn’t left your side. How could he have murdered Harrison without you knowing about it?”

“Magic? He could have hooked like you do.”

I shook my head. “No. He doesn’t have a lot of power here, even with the lodestones. And only Skriven can hook like I do.”

Her lip curled, her teeth bared through her grimace. “Like that man who was in the shelter and helped you move the soul from your body to Lucy’s?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t him, though.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.

“I didn’t like him.”

“I know. Come on, let’s go.”

She nodded. “I hope I didn’t make you late.”

“Arsinua is home. I left her a note letting her know I might be late, no worries.”

We walked to the car in silence, then she stopped dead. “Zech and I can go out tonight. Without worrying Harrison will show up and kill us.” Her face sagged. Then she smiled. “I’m free. I’m well and truly free of him, Devany.” She threw her arms around me and we stood there hugging for a long time.

SEVENTEEN

When I got home, Arsinua and Bethy were in the living room, practicing magic. They were growing flowers out of plastic cups, big, beautiful flowers that grew at tremendous rates and died just as quickly. Cheeseweed was attacking a wilting sunflower with a ferociousness that I hoped would someday extend to mouse-hunting. I was proud to note that my daughter’s flowers were bigger and bloomed faster than Arsinua’s. “Way to go kid.”

“Mom!” She ran over and hugged me around the waist. “Arsinua showed me how to boil water with my magic. It’s awesome. I can do it in like a second!”

“Sweet. That means you are the family’s official macaroni and cheese maker from now on.” I planted kisses on her head until she squirmed away from me and returned to her lessons. I was guessing her homework wasn’t done and that it would come in dead last in comparison to magic. “Where’s your brother?”

“In his room.”

I sighed and stripped down to my bare feet, tossing my jacket over a kitchen stool. Arsinua hadn’t made supper, which was fine. I don’t know why I’d never considered using magic to make cooking faster. What the hell had I been doing? Certainly not focusing on my priorities. I dug out frozen enchiladas and used my control room to heat them—it took a minute. “Damn,” I said softly, too softly for Bethy to hear and chide me for it.

I got out the dishes and spooned food on each one, adding magically-heated vegetables and some canned fruit. Because what was more magical than getting already sliced peaches from an easy-to-open can, I ask you?

I trudged upstairs to change into grubby clothes, pounding on Liam’s door as I went by. “Food, dude.”

He didn’t answer, but it wasn’t uncommon. I stripped and pulled on sweats and a t-shirt, then went back down, hammering on his door again. “Food!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said from inside.

I grinned and jogged downstairs. The food was still steaming, which was kind of weird. I looked at it with my Magic Eye and saw green crackling energy all over it. I waved it away with my mind and when I pulled back into the real world, the steam lessened. Hmm. I needed to fiddle more to figure it out. I took a tentative bite of mine, expecting lava outside and ice-brick inside, but it was warmed through.

“Food, guys.”

Bethy skipped out to the counter and dug in, chattering a mile an hour about the magic. Arsinua took her plate and Travis’ and went downstairs, not looking me once in the eye. That woman could hold a grudge.

Liam slumped down ten minutes later, looking like he’d been taking a nap.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

The defensive snap made me frown. “Because I care about you. What’s up?”

He shrugged, forked a big bite in his mouth and chewed forever. Unluckily for him, I had the patience of an annoyed mother. I stared. Drummed my fingers. Coughed. Finally he got the hint and said, “I’ve been trying to find Sharps. She won’t talk to me.”

“Oh.” That’s why he’d looked sleepy—he’d been trying to Dream, to reach his friend, who was pissed and not open for conversation. I looked at both my kids and realized they each held traits from their grandparents. Bethy had Dad’s witch side. Liam held Mom’s Wydling genes.

Had they gotten any Skriven from me? I hadn’t even been Skriven when I had them. Had I? Had Ravana’s meddling given me Skriven … parts? Or had she only made it possible for me to be born? Hell if I knew.

I eyed them, as if they would suddenly start ... I didn’t even know what. Stabbing each other? “Awful.”

“What?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. Just talking out loud. How was school?” This set off a conversation I knew well and gave us all a safe place to retreat to for a little bit. When all was said and done, I discovered that Bethy hated her math teacher and Liam thought the new football coach was in love with his English teacher. “So?”

“She’s married, Mom.”

“Well, let’s hope neither of them act on their urges. Shouldn’t you be studying and doing work, instead of gossiping about the teaching staff?” Perhaps I needed to make a call up to the school. It was a mundane task that felt very life-affirming to do, weirdly enough.

“Mom,” he said, in tones that implied I was a moron. “I have eyes. I see stuff.” He didn’t add ‘duh’ but it was there, nonetheless.

“Okay.” At his look, I raised my hands in surrender. “Okay. Fine. You’re observant.”

His lips twitched but he held back the smile. “You’re just saying that.”

I gave him the pointy-eyed stare and he gave into the smile. I ruffled his hair, which he hated, and proposed a popcorn and movie night which, surprise surprise they both agreed to. We found a dumb movie on SyFy and talked all through the show to complain about the acting, the poor decision-making on the part of the characters, and the bad special effects.

It was awesome.

When I was finally able to tuck them into bed, I was more relaxed than I’d been in ages. I was already in my sleep shirt and shorts when someone knocked. I sighed and crawled out of bed. When I saw the look on Arsinua’s face, I knew something bad had happened.

“Your father is in trouble.”

“What do you mean? How do you know?”

She came inside without asking and shut us inside my bedroom. “I’ve been talking with Marantha. It hasn’t been easy since the Anforsa is watching her, but we’ve been able to get a few messages back and forth.” She looked at me a little hesitantly. “I hope you don’t mind but I asked her to keep an eye out for your father.”

Who was this new timid Arsinua and what had she done with the real witch? “Of course I don’t mind. Just tell me what’s going on.”

“He’s in jail. On trial for crimes against the Witch Council, according to Marantha.”

I formed a hook. “I can just hook him out of there like I did you.”

“No.” She grabbed my arm, then dropped her hand away. “The Anforsa has him in a Skriven-proof cell. You can’t get in and he can’t get out. He’s going to have to answer for his crimes.”

I tossed my hands up in the air and let the hook collapse. “What crime? Falling in love with a Wydling? They are people too,” I said, glaring at Arsinua since I knew her feelings about the subject.

“He was wanted years ago for trying to get the witches on the borders to rebel against the order of things. He wanted to stop regulating magic. He advocated the destruction of the Omphalos.”

Nice, Dad. Way to leave out some important parts of your story, I thought. “What are they planning to do? I mean, what happens if he’s found guilty?”

Her eyes gave me the answer. But she had to say it anyway. “He’ll be sentenced to die.”

***

Deep breath in. Let it out. It was all I could do to keep from hooking to the Witch’s Council and rip them all a new one. “I’m not letting them execute him.”

“You won’t have a choice. If they make the decision, it’s final. He will die. Devany, you cannot take them on. They have some of the most powerful magic users on Midia.”

I leveled a glare on her. “I’m an Originator, Arsinua. Not some chicken shit witch hiding behind laws and rules and order.”

Her face paled but she didn’t back down. “Please. At least wait to see what the outcome of the trial is. Perhaps they will forgive his youthful indiscretions.”

“My mom was not a youthful indiscretion, Arsinua!” I paced away from her to the window and thumped the wall with my fist. “I won’t let him die.” She didn’t answer. Perhaps she was afraid to, afraid of me. Way to shoot the messenger, Devany. “What does Marantha think?”

“That they will find him guilty. There have been more attacks on the borders by Wydlings. People are scared. Packing up and moving further inland and away from the Anwar.”

I shook my head. “That’s bullshit. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’d bet you a mint it’s not the Wydlings. What they need to be asking themselves is who would stand to benefit from a country-wide panic?” I turned. “Well?”

She shrugged. Then her eyes found mine. “The Theleoni.”

“Bingo. They’re getting desperate. Kroshtuka and his people are spreading the information about domar berries protecting humans. They are breaking up the slave markets. The Theleoni will only get their way if the witches are so scared of losing their orderly magic that they allow the harvesting of humans. It always comes back to those human-trafficking bastards.”

“I don’t see how this changes anything. Your father’s deeds were his own and he’s not denied a single one.”

Would it be wrong to snatch her hair and smack her? Of course it would be. I wanted to anyway. “Of course he hasn’t denied a single one. Did you read his book? I mean, I know you did, but did you get it? Did you actually listen to his words?”

She flushed and the color only darkened as I continued.

“You were saying how much you admired him. That your group was inspired by him. And because he married a Wydling woman, he’s only good enough to be inspiring but not good enough to defend?”

“I thought you’d want to know,” she finally said and left my room, the door snicking shut behind her. I flipped off the door, which wasn’t satisfying.

Your temper is slipping from my grasp.

Which meant what? That I was going to go nuclear if I didn’t calm down? “I’m going to walk into that damn Council and kill them all if they don’t let my dad go.”

I cannot stop you from it. But I can tell you it would destroy you.

I didn’t care. Shit. I did care. “Mother fucker!” I whispered furiously to the room, remembering at the last second the kids might not be asleep. Or wouldn’t be if they heard me in my room cursing. I crossed the room and dialed Danni’s number, my foot tapping hard on the floor as I waited for her to pick up.

“Hello?”

Zech. Even better. “I need to know how to break someone out of a Skriven-proof cell,” I said without preamble.

His silence didn’t please me.

“Zech? The Witch Council has my father. They might kill him. I’m not going to let him die. Now, I figure you probably know something about the Council’s workings. And I’m pretty sure you’d rather help out my dad instead of seeing a bunch of your former comrades slaughtered by yours truly. So lay it on the line for me. What do I have to do to get him out?”

To my surprise, he answered readily. “Get thrown in with him. The cells are weaker on the inside because they have magic dampers. They won’t affect you with your ... affliction.”

“Affliction?” My heart was beating too hard in my chest. “Okay. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

I almost hung up, but I had to know. “Why help me?”

His pause had me checking my phone to make sure we still had a connection. He finally spoke. “I thank you for my life. And I think that you aren’t the abomination I once thought you to be.” Another pause. “What you did for Danni made her a new woman.”

“I didn’t do anything, just supported her.” God. What if her phone line was bugged? What if mine was? I pulled my phone away from my head in horror, as if I could see the tiny listening device hidden inside it.

“It was on TV. Them finding his body. I saw the magical sig. Your sig. So, thank you,” he repeated and hung up.

Into the phone, I said, “I have no clue what he was talking about, Detective Warwick.” I locked the screen, slipped it into my pocket, and cracked my knuckles. Time to get thrown in jail.

But first. Feed the cat. Talk to Travis. Make sure the kids were taken care of and knew what I was going to do so that they wouldn’t freak out.

Then get thrown in jail. Right. Priorities. Sometimes they sucked.

***

I had this great vision of me standing in the town square with a billowing black cape of fear slung over my shoulders, lightning flashing, black clouds darkening the sky. If I came in hot enough, I thought, I could scare them so damn bad they would give me my dad to keep me from flattening them. Problem was, I wasn’t sure where the Witch Council met. Sighing, I hooked to Marantha’s house. If they were watching her, then they’d find me. And maybe I could get some answers not colored by Arsinua’s bias.