Magicians' Reckoning Read online

  She set down the cup. “I’m sorry to bring this up again after all you’ve been through.”

  The man’s mouth hardened, but the woman dropped her eyes, patting the sling that rested against her chest. Though Iris couldn’t see what lay inside, the shape suggested a very young baby, sleeping peacefully against his or her mother.

  “I don’t see what good it will do.” The man huffed. “We already told the sheriff our tale, as well as the magician out of Mill River.”

  Iris slipped a stylus from her pocket. Though her Fey heritage allowed her to manipulate magic without a channeling tool like a stylus, she didn’t wish to frighten the couple by showing off this inhuman ability. Instead she drew a line of symbols on a bit of parchment. A cool breeze sprang up, stirring the stuffiness from the room and carrying a faint floral aroma. The woman’s shoulders relaxed.

  “Darian, dear, please. What if whatever took Kay comes back for her little brother?” She patted the bundle. “Losing our girl was almost more than I could stand. If we lost another child …” She choked.

  “It may be a cold comfort, but such creatures tend not to linger in one area long. I doubt it remained here after taking your daughter, and it most likely will not return.”

  The woman’s hold on her baby tightened then loosened. Her husband closed his eyes, mouthing what might’ve been a prayer of thanks.

  Iris swallowed a sigh. While it perhaps offered the family some peace of mind, it also meant this creature would be harder to catch. She needed to find its trail before it struck again. “I know you’ve been over this before, but any details you can give me will aid in my search. The sheriff and Master Preston didn’t know what they were looking for. I do. So, can you tell me what happened the day your daughter disappeared? Did you see anything unusual?”

  “No, as we told the sheriff, it was just us that day, in the fields. Our Kay weeds between the rows while we work.”

  “No one was there but us. We can see the full stretch of the road for a quarter mile in either direction from our farm, all flat fields and pasture.” The mother shook her head. “Not a traveler the whole time, I swear.”

  Iris tapped her fingers on the table. It was the same story Master Preston had told her, and nearly identical to the tale of the first missing child. Something was off, though. “Was it a foggy day?”

  “No, clear blue sky, not so much as a cloud in sight.”

  “You’re sure about that detail? No low bank of morning fog that had yet to burn off?”

  “Not by the time we were up and out in the field.”

  “What about dust? Stirred up by the wind, maybe?”

  The baby fussed in the sling, and the mother bounced slightly to calm it. It had to be younger than Rill’s twins. An ache for her family swelled through Iris’s chest, but if she didn’t catch this creature other women might soon be bereaved as well.

  “No. The day was still and clear.” Darian scratched his neck. “I remember thinking we could do with some rain, but there were no clouds and no breeze to bring them in, just sun and sweat. I don’t think we’ve had anything but fair weather since then.”

  Iris chewed on her bottom lip. It didn’t make sense. Even in the middle of nowhere, a Leecher would be more cautious than to strike at midday with no cover from darkness or cloud. Even if it were desperate to feed, it would wait for nightfall or dusk. Its gaseous form could easily slip through the cracks under the drafty doors or down the chimney while the family slept. It didn’t need to attack in the open where it might be seen.

  “So it was a fair day, and she was working near you—”

  A rapping at the door made her jump.

  “Excuse me.” Darian stood and crossed the room. The door creaked as he opened it, letting in the cool fresh scent of evening air and the sound of chirping crickets. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for a woman named Iris Spellsmith.” At the familiar voice, Iris leaped to her feet, nearly toppling her rickety chair. “Master Preston said she might be here interviewing you.”

  “Auric?” Iris called.

  Her son stepped into the candlelight, his brow furrowed. “Mother, thank God!”

  Why was he here? A chill swept through her, and somehow she knew. “It’s your father, isn’t it?”

  “He’s not doing well.” He took a sheet of paper out of his pocket. “We need to be quick.”

  She rushed to his side. “I’m sorry, but I have to go,” she told her hosts. For a moment she thought of her belongings, left at the inn at Mill River Crossing, and the rented horse tied up outside of the farmer’s cottage. She pushed all that out of mind. It could be dealt with later. Gripping Auric’s sleeve, she nodded. “I’m ready.”

  ***

  Jericho leaned back in his chair beside his father-in-law’s bedside. The light of a single candle flickered over the older man’s pale face. During the last several hours, he’d drifted in and out of consciousness. The doctor had done all he could, but told the family to brace for the worst. Rill had sobbed for an hour after that, before the babies had called her away for another feeding. When Jericho checked on them shortly after, Rill was asleep with Lilac in her arms and Jaspyr curled at her feet. Jericho had transferred the baby into her bassinet and left them to rest.

  Now he shut his eyes and prayed.

  Dear Lord, please, let Auric find Iris and get home. Also, don’t take Hedward yet. The twins won’t even remember him if You do, and they deserve that. They deserve to know their grandfather. Please. Please give him a few more years with us.

  “Jericho?” the rasp of the old man’s voice jolted through Jericho’s thoughts. He sat up.

  “Sir? I’m here. Do you need anything?”

  Hedward gazed at him from beneath drooping eyelids. “Where are Rill and Auric?”

  “Auric is still looking for Iris, and Rill fell asleep taking care of the twins. It’s nearly midnight, I’d guess.” Jericho stood. “I can fetch her.”

  “No, let her rest. She’s been so tired of late. Poor girl always puts others before herself, you know. Gets it from her mother. I’ve never been that selfless.”

  Jericho eased back into his chair. “I don’t know, you’ve done an awful lot for me: taking me in, teaching me your trade, letting me marry your daughter. That’s pretty selfless.”

  Hedward laughed, but it turned into a cough. Jericho offered him a glass of water the doctor had left on the side table. Hedward drank then sighed. “I got as much out of those arrangements as I gave, Jericho. Especially with the last. Those little ones of yours are treasures, and it does me good to know you will be here to look after Rill when I’m gone.”

  Something squeezed Jericho’s heart. “Don’t talk like that. You aren’t going anywhere.” And he tried to make himself believe it. After all, Hedward was coherent again. That had to be a sign of recovery.

  “I’m tired.” Hedward’s eyes drifted shut again.

  “Go ahead and sleep. Auric will be back soon, with Iris.”

  “Ah, Auric …” A faint smile wrinkled Hedward’s eyes. “I’m so proud of him, of what he’s become. I never doubted he would be skilled at magic, but his temperament was so much like my own that I feared he’d make the same mistakes I did in my youth.” He winced. “I was so arrogant at his age, thinking I could bend the world to my whims.”

  “He seems to be doing all right in spite of himself.” Jericho chuckled.

  “Yes, well, the men in our family tend to favor passion over pragmatism. That girl of his, though, she’ll keep his feet on the ground if she has to nail them down.”

  Jericho snorted. “Yeah, Lotta’s good at that.”

  Hedward fell silent. Jericho watched him, trying not to worry, listening intently for any sign that Auric had returned.

  A cough wracked Hedward’s body. He leaned forward, his whole body convulsing.

  “Easy!”

  Hedward’s face pinched. “My head and chest hurt.”

  Jericho fumbled on the nightstand f
or a tiny bottle. “The doctor left some laudanum.” He held it towards his father-in-law, but Hedward waved it away.

  “Gah, and spend my last hours in a chemically induced stupor?”

  Jericho’s grasp tightened around the medicine. “Please, Hedward, for me, hang on.”

  “You’ll do fine without me, Jericho. All of you will: Auric, Rill, even Iris … but especially you.”

  The door burst open. Relief swept through Jericho as Auric entered, Iris at his heels.

  “Hedward!” Iris rushed to the head of the bed. Jericho stepped back to give her room. She cradled her husband’s head. A smile flitted across Hedward’s face. He began to speak in a tone too low for Jericho to hear. Iris nodded and kissed his cheek, tears streaming from her eyes.

  Throat tightening, Jericho drew closer to Auric. “Getting her was the right thing to do.” He forced a smirk. “You finally made a good call.”

  Auric rolled his eyes. “Don’t act like it’s so rare.” His eyes grew distant. “I did everything right this time, though, everything I could. I got the doctor right away. I made sure he’s not apart from Mother … He has to be all right. He has to get better. We did everything right.”

  Remembering the doctor’s dire warning, Jericho shifted from foot to foot. “You did all you could do, but Auric, that doesn’t mean ...” He drew a deep breath. “I hope you’re right.”

  A rustling drew Jericho’s attention to the hall. He stepped out. In the dim light of a single hall-lamp, Rill stopped and rubbed her eyes. “I fell asleep. I must’ve been out for hours. How come you didn’t wake me?”

  “You needed the rest.” Jericho stepped closer and took her hands. “Auric just got back—with your mother.”

  Her eyes widened, and she smiled. “Oh, thank God! And Dad?”

  “He is up talking, but I don’t think we should stress him. He says he’s tired and—”

  “Jericho!” Auric yelped.

  Rill’s eyes widened, and she dashed past Jericho into the bedroom. Heart shriveling, Jericho hurried after her.

  Auric stood, chest heaving, over his mother who cradled Hedward’s head in her arms.

  “Don’t cry,” Hedward whispered, his voice slurring. “Auric?”

  “I’m here, Father.” Auric sat on the edge of the bed. Rill hurried to his other side. Jericho hung back, feeling awkward, longing to go forward and take Hedward’s hand, but also not wanting to intrude on the family. Rill’s shoulders trembled, and he overcame his hesitation, going to her and placing his arm about her. Hedward’s heavy-lidded gaze flitted from one member of his family to the next. He smiled, let out a long breath, and went limp. Auric’s shoulders shook, and he drew his mother into an embrace.

  Rill crumpled against Jericho’s chest, sobbing. Jericho buried his face in her hair, his arms as tight about her as possible without damage to her ribs. “I’ve got you,” he whispered. “Hold onto me. I’ve got you.” Her tears dampened his shirt as she wept. Jericho closed his eyes, concentrating on her rather than the ache in his own chest. Hedward had trusted him with Rill, trusted him to look after her when he was gone. Jericho wasn’t going to let him down.

  Chapter Five

  Auric sat on the floor of his father’s study, staring at the empty desk, still covered in stacks of papers and magical theory books. Even though Hedward was no longer an official partner in the magical business, neither Auric nor Jericho had attempted to claim the room, choosing to conduct their business in the common work space of the shop. It was, simply put, Father’s study, and it always would be.

  Even now.

  Doubt played with Auric. He’d been so certain going after Mother had been the right thing, but he’d only bought her a few moments before Father passed on, and it had cost him hours at his father’s side. What could they have talked about in that time? What could Auric have told him? Jericho had related a section of conversation, that his father said he was proud of him, but Auric had missed that. He’d missed everything.

  And now Father was gone.

  Auric leaned against the wood paneling of the door. He needed to get up. The funeral was in an hour, and it would look bad if he didn’t attend. This room, however, still carried the faint trace of burnt alder wood: his father’s magical signature. The scent had always been a part of his life. Now he faced the possibility that it could fade away forever. What would be left then?

  Tears blurred his vision, and he drew his knees against his chest like a child hiding from a nightmare. He couldn’t face the congregation, all those people acting as if they knew Hedward Spellsmith, the respected town magician.

  They didn’t know that he was a brilliant theoretical magician, one of the first to learn how to open artificial rifts into the Fey Lands, that he’d met his wife in one of his journeys there, but that he’d sworn off the practice of rift creation when he realized the danger it posed to humanity.

  They didn’t know the single-minded passion he’d put into protecting his children from Fey forces, the sacrifices he’d made to preserve their family over the years.

  And how could they? Those were things Auric had only recently discovered for himself, things he still struggled to wrap his mind around, they were so at odds with the appearance his father had projected during his youth: competent but dismissive.

  Someone tapped on the door. Auric drew a deep breath and stood. He opened the door to find his mother peering at him, her brow furrowed.

  “Are you all right?” She took his hand.

  “No.” He tried to swallow the lump in his throat but failed. “I’m sorry. I know we need to leave soon. I just wanted a few minutes alone before we faced the crowds.”

  “I understand.” She closed her eyes, tilting her head back. “This room smells like him.”

  “Yeah.” His voice cracked. He fumbled for his handkerchief, but remembered he’d drenched it an hour before and not bothered to replace it with a clean one. Instead he shifted from foot to foot, resisting the urge to wipe his eyes and nose on his shirt sleeve.

  Iris tackled him in a bear hug.

  “Is it awful that I don’t want to go to the funeral?” he choked out. “I know I need to be there to pay my respects and say my farewells, but I don’t want to. I want to stay here. Father isn’t at that church, and he won’t be in that graveyard. He’s … he’s here.” He tightened his hold around his mother.

  She rubbed his back. “You don’t have to.”

  “Really? You aren’t going to tell me I’ll regret it forever if I don’t say good-bye? That it’ll look bad if I’m not at my own father’s burial?”

  “You won’t say your good-byes there, around strangers who barely know you. Besides, the whole town hates me because of my unexplained decade-long absence.” She groaned. “Try to explain to the local gossips that you were staving off a major catastrophe but doing so kept you captive in the Fey Lands.”

  In spite of himself, Auric chuckled. “Yeah, that doesn’t really come up over tea at the ladies’ sewing circle.”

  She stroked his hair. “You do what you feel is best. How would your father want to be remembered and honored?”

  “I wish I knew.” Untangling himself from her embrace, he entered the workshop and sat on the long table where he and Jericho would make up the spells for the local guilds. Weather and pest repelling spells for the farmers. Tracking spells for hunters and furriers. Spells to make trees grow straight for the foresters. “How is Rill holding up?” he asked.

  “You know your sister: she’s focused herself on her children, on worrying over me, even fussing over Jericho, as if she didn’t have as much right to mourn as any of us.” Iris sighed. “I worry about how much she takes upon herself.” She fiddled with her braid. “It’s hard enough to keep a sense of self as a young mother without her putting herself in that position.”

  Iris sat beside him and leaned her head against his shoulder. They remained in silence, Auric trying to ignore the sucking spot in his heart that had taken his father’s place. The f
aint cry of a baby drifted from downstairs. Jericho had asked his mother to sit with the children during the funeral, but the twins didn’t respond well to anyone besides Rill. Even Jericho had a hard time calming them sometimes. “A mother’s touch,” Father had called it, never taking it personally when the babies fussed in his arms—those babies who wouldn’t even remember him as they grew older. The emptiness throbbed like a knife wound.

  “I never properly thanked you for fetching me,” Iris said. “I’d have hated myself forever if I’d missed saying farewell because of my task.”

  “It was the right thing to do.” Auric shrugged. “You were his everything.”

  “I never should’ve left him in the first place. The doctor had said a relapse was possible. It had just been so long since the first attack that I grew complacent.” Tears rolled down her cheeks and seeped into Auric’s shirt.

  “We all did, and you had to go.” Auric kissed the top of her head. “That was also the right thing to do.”

  “It isn’t the first time I’ve chosen the safety of strangers over the good of my own family, though. I’d do anything to have that time with your father back.”

  “Children have been killed, and even Father said you were the best person to stop it.” A chill settled over the workshop in spite of the summer day outside. “Have you made any progress in tracking the Leecher yet?”

  She squeezed his hand. “You don’t want to talk about that now, do you?”

  “I kind of do.” Anything to distract from the grief that continuously threatened to overwhelm him. “I’m assuming you’re going to keep hunting it?”

  “I feel as if I must. Part of me longs to stay here with you and your sister and the twins, but as long as it’s free, no one is safe, including our family. Every victim it takes is as dear to someone else as you are to me, after all.” She stood and paced. “It disappeared again. After the last victim, I expected another body to be found. Leechers can’t go for long without food, but this one is being atypically insidious. My best guess is you’re right, that it has been in our world since you closed the rifts, but if so, how has it stayed hidden for over a year? It would have to feed regularly. I’ve gathered rumors of possible victims from towns between Mill River and the Capital. It looks as if it appeared in smaller towns for the first time about three months ago and has been making its way slowly into the countryside, taking a victim every few weeks, then moving to the next town before anyone can catch on.”