The Magician's Mistake (The Fay Morgan Chronicles Book 1) (4 page)

I yanked off a button loosely sewn into my shirt. I threw it upward. “Gwasgaru,” I yelled and kept running.

The dispersal spell sent the bombs ping-ponging up and away. One of them exploded, sending piercing sound waves echoing in all directions. Another popped and turned into buzzing blue magic that wriggled outward, searching for my destruction.

Both spells were well-made. Both had taken time, craft, and planning to construct.

A boom sounded in the direction of the lake. Screams followed. I turned to see Lila and Adam struggling to run out of the lake. Dark blue tentacles wrapped around their shoulders, legs, and neck. The spelled sea-monster sought to pull them down and under. To kill them.

I screamed and ran down the hill toward the five women who stood watching Adam and Lila. They’d turned their backs on me and were laughing. Fools.

I muttered an ancient Welsh nursery rhyme as I ran. Each syllable worked to make a quick and dirty spell that pulled a pulsating chaos out of me. It moved as I moved, becoming huge and raw, ragged and burning as it began to eat away the day. They would suffer for harming the innocents. They would pay.

Something hit my lower back. It exploded and pushed me forward, sending me sprawling to the ground. With it, my half-wrought spell floundered and fell beside me. Born too soon, it hissed and writhed on the grass beside me, losing strength.

The spell that felled me rippled along my back, growing and clawing like a wild beast. It ripped into me, deep and hard. It grabbed onto my rib bones, my throat, and heart.

Ancient protection spells flared within me in response to the attack, fighting it. Pain, like a savage animal that knew no end, swallowed me.

I heard laughter. A woman ran up to me. She reached around my neck and yanked off my amulet. I screamed.

A moment later, other screams joined mine.

6

His Arms

I’ve always feared death. No matter how lonely and long my days have been, it has always scared me. No immortal can claim otherwise, else they would have succumbed to that cold embrace long ago.

But no fear lived in me now, in the endless moment of velvety darkness where I was held tight and being carried in his strong arms. I was safe. Loved. The layers of my solitary and strange ways fell away as death held me tight. His warmth eased into me.

“Hush now, love. Hush,” he whispered. “Heal, sweet Morgan.”

Death spoke in old Welsh, and he loved me. He’d always loved me.

7

A Useful Map

I awoke to pain and a blinding headache.

Not dead then, and this long and surprising life of mine would continue. My mouth curled up in a smile. Even my lips hurt.

I opened my eyes and stared up at the ceiling. It was a fancy one, bedecked with thick crown molding and a crystal chandelier. I raised my head. Pain lanced through my neck and shoulders. I moved one arm. More spiking pain. I closed my eyes and sought oblivion, but my mind was already moving, restless and hungry for details.

“Where am I?” My voice croaked like a crows.

“The hotel suite Adam and I currently call home.” I felt heat, his heat, nearby. I opened my eyes to see Kestrel hovering at the edge of my vision, his face creased with worry.

“What happened?”

“Like a knight in shining armor, I rescued you.”

“I have always hated knights and their loathsome chivalry.”

He smiled and his hand reached toward my cheek. It hesitated, an inch away, and then withdrew. “Then I should say I came running toward you, throwing fish and chips hither and yon, screaming and swearing as I sent those wrong mothers running. They got away with the amulet, alas.”

He held a cup of water up to mouth.

I swallowed a mouthful. It hurt.

“How?”

He took a deep breath. “I set a confusion spell. The ladies with bombs became rather befuddled. They screamed and ran away. I then dissolved the spells attacking you, Lila, and Adam.”

“You are powerful,” I murmured. “How are they?”

“Lila and Adam are fine. A bit water-logged. Lila didn’t sleep all night and day, sitting vigil beside you.”

I glanced out the window. It was late afternoon.

Kestrel continued. “I sent them down to the hotel restaurant for lunch. They should be back soon. They’ll be delighted you are fine.”

Fine. I managed not to groan as I turned my head to watch him. “So you are the magician.”

“I’m
a
magician,” he said lightly.

“I drew your card from my tarot deck.”

“Did you now?”

I blinked slowly. Painfully. “What part do you play in this unknown witch’s chaos?”

“I save the lass and she responds with distrust and disdain,” he said flatly. “Never mind that I gave you the necklace that the trolls and women sought.”

Which didn’t answer my question.

“Did you learn anything from any of the women before they fled?” I asked.

He scowled and turned away from me. “I’m sure you will find it convenient that the wicked magician was too busy saving the lives of you and yours to chase after them.”

I took a deep breath, gritted my teeth, and forced myself to roll over and sit up. I managed to only let out one gasp of pain. We were in some kind of hotel suite, and I was in a bed that could have slept a family of ten back in my day. I wore a thick white bathrobe and nothing underneath. Purplish bruises ran up my arms and down the flesh of my legs.

Kestrel watched as I swung my legs over the bed. He offered no help.

“Coffee?” I asked, my voice breaking.

He disappeared through a doorway and came back in wheeling a cart with coffee, a bottle of good whiskey, and a meat pie with a flaky crust. He pushed it close so I could eat where I sat.

I held a fork gingerly and took a bite of the pie. It tasted like home, like nothing you could buy in the States. Everything still hurt, but I felt minutely better. “You made it?” I asked.

“I cook when I’m nervous,” he said.

“Nervous?” I asked around a mouthful of beef and potatoes.

“You lie in this bed for hour upon hour like Sleeping Beauty and expect me not to care?”

“You don’t know me.”

He glared at me. His jaw clenched.

The door opened, and Lila and Adam came in.

“Morgan!” Lila yelled and ran to me. She bear-hugged me painfully. “You’re really okay, Morgan? Like really? You looked like this beautiful corpse, barely breathing, and I was going out of my mind, and those women at the lake were so intense, and whatever happened with female solidarity, right? And you’re really okay? Really?” Lila spoke in a rush.

“I’m fine, Lila. A bit sore, that is all.”

“It’s so, so good to hear your always-sort-of-pissed-off voice.”

“Glad you’re back, Morgan.” Adam came up beside Lila. I stifled a groan as he hugged me, too. “Kestrel said it would take more than that to kill you, but we didn’t know.”

“It was a good thing Kestrel showed up, right?” Lila said. “He’s good people. Adam, too.”

“It was a good thing,” I said carefully, not glancing to where Kestrel stood at the window, looking out at the gray city.

“So what now? How are we going to find this bitch and show her who owns this town?” Lila attempted to sound tough.

“Now we rest. I must recuperate and heal. You will go home and I will call you in a couple of days when I have a plan.”

She frowned. “Rest?”

Kestrel turned from the window. “Rest,” he agreed. “Adam, you will drive Lila home, and then return promptly. Full moon tonight.” He nodded to a large, silver-barred cage in the corner of the hotel room.

“On it,” Adam said.

Lila threw a couple of things into her backpack, and they left.

As soon as the door closed, Kestrel sat down on the bed beside me. Near, but not near enough, I thought and then tried to unthink it. “So, Morgan, you are planning on waiting a couple of days to take action?” He raised one eyebrow.

“Of course not. But Lila would want to tag along and I am not in the habit of letting innocents get hurt.”

“I thought so. What’s your plan?”

I hesitated. I had no reason to trust him. Magicians were folly. Always. But
…
. “I’ll start with a finding spell. And then I will hunt her down and do what needs doing. Tonight’s the full moon. A good time for magic. A good time to end this witch.”

His eyes traveled up and down my body. “You’re hardly in shape for any of that.”

I sat up straighter. “I’ve been through worse.”

“Morgan le Fay is a stubborn lass, how surprising. I only meant two magicians are better than one.”

“You mean two witches?”

We both attempted to glare at each other, but neither one of us could hold it, once we locked onto each other’s eyes. Those eyes, so endless. Who was he? I desperately wanted to know the answer to that.

He glanced away first. “I will start on the finding spell. You have a soak. You stink and it will do you good.”

“You’ll need to boil—”

“Rose hips and rue. I wasn’t born under the hedge last night.”

“And—”

“Add peony and yarrow, once it thickens.”

“A magician who knows herbs?” I said.

“A magician who is not daft enough to ignore women’s magical knowledge. Of course I will bring my own sorcery to the table as well.”

“Of course. A sacred sword? A staff of doom? I’ve always wondered why your type relies so heavily on phallic-shaped objects.”

“Says the broomstick rider.”

My mouth hung open. I surprised myself by laughing. Kestrel joined in.

“Fine,” I said. “My shop has everything you need.”

“My bag is well-enough provisioned. You. Bath. Now.”

He disappeared into the other room. I grabbed the whiskey bottle and attempted to stand. I swayed. I groaned. Step by step, I made it to the bathroom.

It was one of those modern wonders of marble, mirror, and a huge, deep tub. I began to fill it with hot water. I disrobed and examined myself in the full-length mirror. Brown, black, and purple bruises snaked across my arms, legs, torso, and back, echoes of the brutality wrought upon me.
You will pay,
I thought.
Whoever you are, for whatever reason you want my amulet, you have messed with the wrong witch and you will pay.

I eased into the water and sank down, letting the simple, everyday magic of water work on my aches. My elbow brushed against something, and I saw a small sandalwood square perched on the bath ledge.

For healing
, a note beside it said.

Kestrel had made me a healing spell while I slept? It smelled of spice and forests. I ran my hands over it. The magic wound through it had a quickness and brightness to it, with an underlying depth that spoke of no ill intent. If he had wanted to harm me, he would have done it before I woke up, I thought, and dropped the spell into the water.

It fizzed and filled the water with swirling purple bubbles that smelled like lilacs. My favorite. I leaned back and closed my eyes. The magic moved around my aching form, subtle at first as it ran across my body, soothing and gentle. It intensified as it massaged my muscles, finding and pushing into the sorest spots until they released their tension. I let out a moan as it knit together a torn muscle at the small of my back. I took a deeper breath as the warm magic found the cracked bones in my ribs, along my collarbone, and in my big toe. It ran back and forth along the fissures, smoothing out the bones and then pushing them together with small, cracking sounds. I took gulping, gasping breaths as the spell worked its hard magic. A few minutes later my bones were fixed and the spell turned gentle again, holding my body in the water and pulsing healing energy all around me. It managed to be both calming and invigorating at the same time. I took a long draw of whiskey and smiled.

Kestrel was a fine magician.

I lay in the water for much longer than was necessary, sipping whiskey and luxuriating in the simple pleasure of being alive and pain-free. When I got out I saw that the bruises had faded to a slight patina across my skin. A shadow to remind me of what had been done to me.

I slipped on the bathrobe and went into the bedroom. I found a bag full of the clothes I had been wearing at Greenlake. They were laundered, stitched, and ironed. I put them on, and went into the other room.

Kestrel stirred a cast-iron kettle full of bubbling potion in the brushed-steel and marble kitchen. The air was warm and herbaceous.

“Feeling better?” he asked, adding a handful of comfrey to the concoction.

“Much.” I cleared my throat. “Thank you.”

He nodded without looking up.

I walked close to him and peered over his shoulder at the potion. It was dark green with a thick and velvety viscosity. The base of the finding spell was coming along well.