Spell bound, p.21
Spell Bound, page 21
I dropped my phone in surprise. It fell to the bed, facedown. Soo-jin’s voice was muffled. Sun pawed at the case, meowing, and I quickly turned it over for them to see.
“We’re really worried. It’s not like them not to come home or call us. We’ve tried their phone, but it’s run out of battery, or it’s broken.” She sniffled. “Sun, please contact us, if you can. Or just come home. Okay?”
The video ended with a phone number for those with information to call.
Sun pressed their paw to the screen.
“I’m sorry,” I said, throat dry and tight. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I didn’t think how it might affect you and your family. I didn’t think. Sun, please.”
Sun didn’t move. Didn’t make a sound.
“Is this why you ghosted me?” I asked, the hot sour sting of tears hiding behind my eyes. “Because of your family? That I could hurt them? That I could hurt you? I get it. I was selfish. I didn’t think very far ahead. I only thought of myself. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” A tear dripped off my jaw onto my pajama bottoms. Then another fell on Sun’s head. “Damn,” I said, using my sleeve to catch the rest. “I’m sorry for that, too. And I forgive you, you know, not that there is anything really to forgive since you were doing what you thought was best for yourself and your family. But just in case you felt guilty. That’s presumptuous of me. You might not have. Whatever. I’m just saying that I was hurt and annoyed, but we’re good now. We’re good.”
I clenched my hands in the blankets, took a steadying breath. Sun hadn’t moved.
“Okay. So. We need to find a way to turn you human and take you back to your family. Or at least let them know you’re okay. I could text them. Could you tap out the number and I—”
Sun jolted, as if startled, then reached out and sunk their claws into my arm.
I jerked away.
“They obviously want you home, Sun.”
Sun shook their head.
“Sun, be reasonable. Your family might know how to turn you back. And they miss you. It’s cruel to let them think the worst when you’re relatively okay.”
A low growl followed. Sun’s dark-brown eyes met mine, and I saw in them a hint of fear.
I sighed. Okay. This was Sun’s decision, even if I didn’t agree. They would know best, I guess. But the thought of having someone actually miss you, worry about you, resurrected a familiar pain. I’d had that once. I didn’t have it now.
“Fine,” I said, defeated. There was no arguing with a cat. “Fine. Okay. We’ll continue with our plan. Which, by the way, was really vague on how we were going to return you to normal Sun. Any ideas in that regard?”
Sun tilted their head, then hopped off the bed and crossed the floor to my computer chair. They jumped from the chair to my desk, sitting right in front of the picture I had of my grandmother.
Sun batted at it.
“My grandmother? She’s dead, Sun.” A lump formed at the base of my throat, and again I dashed my tears away with my sleeve. “I told you that. Remember? Our date at the coffee shop?”
Sun’s head snapped up, eyes wide, like they’d sniffed catnip.
Oh. I said date. Our date. Embarrassing. Wow. My ears went hot. I pushed on, choosing to ignore how my brain to mouth filter didn’t work before 6:00 a.m.
“Uh.” I cleared my throat. “What about my grandmother? She could use magic, but she wasn’t powerful like Antonia or Fable. She just made potions and cast butterflies. She had this ancient recipe book that she used to make soup…” I trailed off. “Wait. She had books. She had to have owned a spell book. It could’ve been the recipe book.” I shot to my feet. “She’d never mentioned the Consortium to me, and Antonia once said that there was no way they could know everyone, watch everyone. The spell book could still be in her belongings.”
Sun meowed.
“But,” I said, deflating, “I don’t have access to her things. After she died, I wasn’t allowed to return to the house and was immediately sent away.”
Sun tilted their head and meowed again.
I had no idea what they were saying, but that didn’t stop me from trying to have a conversation. “I mean, we could go to her house and look. There’s nothing stopping me now. And even if there’s not a spell book, there might be something. Anything. It’s a place to start.”
Sun sat primly, little paws tucked close, tail wrapped around their body, and nodded once.
“I know that I’m the genius of this relationship, but that was really smart thinking.”
Relationship. Again. Slip of the tongue. I should just bury myself.
“Okay, if you think Fable’s place is far out, wait until you see my grandma’s cabin. It’s north of the city, and it’ll take some time to get to, but it’s not like we have anything more pressing to do.”
It was still early, but I was rejuvenated by the thought of going home. If the little cabin in the quiet cul-de-sac was even still standing. I didn’t know. I hadn’t been back, but it was worth a try.
I scrambled around my room, shoving some clothes into my bag for me and Sun in case we were successful in turning Sun human. I grabbed my phone charger and wallet and ensured the Spell Binder was settled safely inside. Sun watched from their perch on the desk as I ran around my room and demurely looked away when I changed my clothes.
“Okay,” I said, clapping my hands. “Let’s go. We’ll hit a coffee shop for some breakfast and coffee, and then we’ll find a bus headed that way.”
Sun hopped down from the desk, and without any argument, jumped into the top of my bag. I zipped it up around them and slid the bag on my shoulders.
Having Sun this close to me again made me want to mention the cuddling. I didn’t mention the cuddling.
“Ready?”
Sun meowed. That was the best answer I could receive.
* * *
Despite an incident at the coffee shop where a little girl really wanted to pet the cute kitty in my bag, the trip to the cottage was relatively uneventful. There wasn’t a bus that was scheduled for a few hours, so I ended up having to use a car service, which cost a significant amount. But the job with Antonia had put enough in my bank account to cover it and whatever other expenses I’d incur on this mission.
Grandma’s cabin sat at the end of a long, winding street. It was a neighborhood of sorts, with scattered houses on big lots of green and large areas with old-growth trees. Sun was pressed against my thigh, cuddling me again, a low rumble emanating from their chest. It was the cutest thing ever. But as adorable as Sun was in a gray, fluffy body with ears and a tail, I missed my Sun. The Sun who cast unimpressed looks in my direction and who smiled softly and was blunt to a fault and who, I had realized, beyond that thorny exterior, was inherently considerate and felt deeply for those they loved.
The driver pulled in front of the house. I used my phone to pay and roused Sun with a nudge from my leg. They yawned and stretched and hopped into my bag with little fuss.
Once the car pulled away, I set Sun on the ground, and they followed me up the brick path. The grass was overgrown in the front yard, tall wildflowers tangled all over what was once manicured beds and pruned bushes.
“Wow. It’s still here,” I said, marveling. A year away had felt like an eternity. My chest went tight with the thought. “I hope no one lives here now. That would be awkward. But judging by the lawn, I assume it’s vacant.”
Other than the overgrowth of the front yard, the cabin itself appeared to be in good shape, almost pristine. No leaves on the awning of the porch. No vines climbing up the sides. No evidence of weathering at all in my absence. Huh, that was strange.
As we neared, Sun suddenly hissed beside me. Their back arched.
And that’s when I saw it too, an almost transparent sheen encompassing the house.
“A ward,” I breathed.
Sun scuttled away, gray fur fuzzed out. I didn’t blame them. I’d made the mistake of touching Antonia’s wards twice and paid the painful price for doing so both times. Antonia’s wards buzzed like live wires, but this one… seemed different… felt different… like butterflies.
“I’m going to touch it.”
Sun growled in warning.
“It’s okay,” I said, curious but unafraid. “It feels like Grandma.” I placed my hand flat against the magic. It tingled in my fingers and against the palm of my hand, warm and comforting. The ward rippled, wobbling outward from where my hand pressed in. The vibrating increased, and then, without warning, it popped, like a soap bubble.
I flexed by fingers and grinned down at Sun. “Wow. That was cool.”
Sun made a noise that was akin to a grumble, and I laughed. Of course, when I tried the door, it was locked.
Luckily for me, the ceramic frog with the wide mouth sat next to the welcome mat. I picked it up and tipped it over, and the spare key tumbled to the deck.
Sun huffed.
“I know, right?” I said. “A ward and a key? That tells me that no one has been in here. And that means, if Grandma did have a spell book, it’s still inside.”
The door had always stuck, and there was a trick to opening it. Pull the handle, turn the key, push inward, and yay! It worked. We were inside.
The living room looked just as I’d left it, though the recliner, worn rug, and couch with the crocheted blanket on the back were all covered in a thick layer of dust from being vacant. The house still smelled the same too, a little mustier than I remembered, but the same. A wave of nostalgia washed over me so fiercely that my knees went weak, and I grabbed the back of the couch to steady myself. As if sensing my discomfort, Sun wove between my legs, rubbing against the fabric of my jeans. I didn’t call them out on it and shrugged off my bag and set it in the recliner.
Unfortunately, the house was hot and stuffy, and when I tried to flick the light switch, nothing blinked on because, well, no one had paid the electricity bill in a year. I sighed and looked down at Sun. “Come on. This way.”
To the left of the living room was the kitchen. I stepped through the archway and walked to the drawer by the oven, whose heat-swollen wood resisted when I tried to pull it out. With a firm yank, I was able to open it, and on the top was a book. Sun jumped to the counter and meowed.
“Yeah, this is the one I was thinking about.”
I gently took the well-worn book from the drawer and carefully peeled back the cover. There was a recipe for soup. Right, I remembered that one, the one she’d make me when I was sick. Okay, but a recipe, not a spell. I turned the page. And there was one for banana bread. And the next page was one for peach pie. My heart sank.
Sun peered down at the writing.
I turned the page.
A casserole.
“Uh, this is not looking good, Sun. I’m sorry, but it looks like it’s only recipes.”
I flipped through faster, and each entry was more food and more food and an alcoholic punch, which, damn, Grandma, that called for a lot of rum. But no luck. It really was just a recipe book. I sighed and closed it, running my hand over the spine.
“Well, okay, so our first plan did not work. That’s okay, though. There are other options. And hey, at least we’re safe here.”
Someone knocked on the front door.
I spun on my heel, heart pounding. Sun hissed from their position on the counter, ears flattened.
“Maybe if we ignore it, they’ll go away,” I whispered.
Another knock. “I know you’re in there,” someone called.
Oh shit. “Maybe if we hide?”
“I saw you go in.”
Okay, so ignoring and hiding were out. “In a minute!” I called back.
I turned to Sun. “What do I do? What should I do?”
But Sun was a cat and couldn’t tell me, and I was freaking out.
“Come on, Eddie! I know it’s you.”
That brought me up short. Eddie? No one called me Eddie anymore. The Consortium surely wouldn’t.
I crossed into the living room, caught the edge of a window drape with my finger, and moved it aside.
A woman stood on the porch. A woman I vaguely recognized.
I opened the door a crack and peered around the edge.
“It is you!” she said, smiling, her brown eyes shining. “I can’t believe it. You’re back!”
“Um…”
“Do you remember me?” She waved her hand. “I babysat you a few times when you were young, and then I went away to college for a while. When I came back to the neighborhood, you were gone.”
I wrinkled my brow. Wait. I did remember a teenager who watched me a few times and then graduated from high school and left. She was about ten years older than me and had dark-brown skin, curly hair, bright brown eyes, and a wide smile. “Mavis?”
She smiled. “Yes! You do remember! I should’ve known. You were always so smart and curious! A little genius. I almost couldn’t believe it was you when the car pulled up, but you have the same smile you had when you were a kid.” She clasped her hands together. “I was so sad when I heard about your grandma and that you were taken away. I returned home right after it happened.”
I scratched the back of my neck. “Yeah. I live in the city now. Just came back here to find something of Grandma’s. Anyway, Mavis, this isn’t exactly the best time—”
“Oh my goodness, is that your cat?” Mavis squealed and pushed past me into the house. She crouched down to where Sun sat in the archway between the living room and kitchen. “It’s so cute! Look at those little paws.”
Sun flattened and hissed.
“Oh. Yes. But be careful. They don’t like to be petted.”
Mavis pulled her hand back just in time to avoid getting clawed and hugged her bent knees instead, staring intently at Sun.
“Oh,” she said softly. “You’re not a cat at all, are you?”
I froze. Sun froze. We all froze. Then I very slowly and deliberately shut the door behind me.
“Mavis?”
She stood and turned toward me, hands on her hips, and shook her head. “You are in a lot of trouble, Rook.”
17 ROOK
I gulped. “I think I liked it better when you called me Eddie.”
She clucked her tongue. “You’ve messed up, kid.” She rolled her neck and tipped her head back to look at the ceiling, sighing dramatically as she did so. “And you’ve put me in an awkward position.”
“I haven’t really,” I said. I stayed by the door and wiggled my fingers next to my side to get Sun’s attention. They caught on, thankfully, and slunk their way toward me. “Nothing to see here. Nothing to report to the Consortium, which I feel like you might have a relationship with if you know my magic name and what’s going on.”
She held out her hand, palm up, and a small spark of magic blazed upward, like a miniature firework, before bursting into an impressive flower of sparkles. Mavis was magic. Oh. Well. That would have been great information to have before I opened the door.
“The scrying mirrors have been lit up for days with your face and name and your darling little kitty here.” She pointed. “Sun, right?”
Sun sat next to my foot. And if looks could curse, Mavis would have been swarmed with scorpions about thirty seconds ago. I glanced at the door behind me. We could run, I guess, make a break for it, but Mavis seemed unconcerned by that option, like she had a plan if we tried, or knew there wasn’t much of an escape route. Also, my backpack sat on the recliner, and I couldn’t leave the Spell Binder behind.
“What else have the mirrors said?”
“Just that you’re dangerous and have broken a ton of Consortium laws. Luckily, they don’t know anything about you other than you’re Antonia Hex’s apprentice, who she calls ‘Rook.’ Which we need to have a discussion on how you became her apprentice because that would be a feat for anyone in general but especially for someone who doesn’t have magic.” Sun’s tail twitched in agitation, and it brushed against my ankle. “But I knew the real you,” Mavis continued. “So, I’ve kept a lookout on the house to see if you would finally return. And you have.”
“And what? You told them? For recognition or cookies or whatever?”
Mavis shrugged. “I didn’t tell them anything. Not yet anyway.”
My breath stuttered out in a relieved gasp. We still had a chance. “Why?”
Mavis slowly walked around the living room, her fingertips trailing along the back of the couch. Dust motes trailed in her wake in the weak sunlight filtering through the covered windows.
Sweat gathered at the back of my neck. The room was hot, and Mavis’s attitude was not helping. What was it with sorcerers and their penchant for theatrics and moral ambiguity?
“I wanted to decide for myself. I don’t take the words of those in power as absolute, especially when they are notorious for being secretive and known for their oppressive tactics.”
“That’s a good life policy.”
She smirked. “So, Eddie or Rook, want to tell me what exactly has the Consortium after you?”
“Not really.” I hooked my thumbs in the pockets of my jeans and rocked back on my heels, going for the innocent-kid look. I wasn’t sure it worked. “The usual, I guess.”
Mavis shook her head, her curly hair bouncing around her face. “Not good enough, kid. You have to give me more information than that.”
“Or what?” I asked. “You just said you don’t trust them. And the way I see it, if you were concerned about the Consortium yourself or if you wanted to earn brownie points, you would’ve turned us in the minute you saw us.”
She huffed, unamused. “What if I was lying and I did? And I’m stalling until they get here?”
I hadn’t thought of that. I scooped Sun into my arms and, for a brief second, took my eyes off Mavis and glanced out of the front window. I didn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean they weren’t out there. Sun let out a disgruntled yowl when I held them too close, but I ignored it as I twisted back to face Mavis. My heart pounded. I could probably run past her to the back door, but there was no way I could grab the bag and keep ahold of Sun and Mavis obviously had magic and who knows how powerful she was, and—I sucked in air, chest heaving. My whole body was stiff with fear, caught between fight, flight, or freeze.
“We’re really worried. It’s not like them not to come home or call us. We’ve tried their phone, but it’s run out of battery, or it’s broken.” She sniffled. “Sun, please contact us, if you can. Or just come home. Okay?”
The video ended with a phone number for those with information to call.
Sun pressed their paw to the screen.
“I’m sorry,” I said, throat dry and tight. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I didn’t think how it might affect you and your family. I didn’t think. Sun, please.”
Sun didn’t move. Didn’t make a sound.
“Is this why you ghosted me?” I asked, the hot sour sting of tears hiding behind my eyes. “Because of your family? That I could hurt them? That I could hurt you? I get it. I was selfish. I didn’t think very far ahead. I only thought of myself. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” A tear dripped off my jaw onto my pajama bottoms. Then another fell on Sun’s head. “Damn,” I said, using my sleeve to catch the rest. “I’m sorry for that, too. And I forgive you, you know, not that there is anything really to forgive since you were doing what you thought was best for yourself and your family. But just in case you felt guilty. That’s presumptuous of me. You might not have. Whatever. I’m just saying that I was hurt and annoyed, but we’re good now. We’re good.”
I clenched my hands in the blankets, took a steadying breath. Sun hadn’t moved.
“Okay. So. We need to find a way to turn you human and take you back to your family. Or at least let them know you’re okay. I could text them. Could you tap out the number and I—”
Sun jolted, as if startled, then reached out and sunk their claws into my arm.
I jerked away.
“They obviously want you home, Sun.”
Sun shook their head.
“Sun, be reasonable. Your family might know how to turn you back. And they miss you. It’s cruel to let them think the worst when you’re relatively okay.”
A low growl followed. Sun’s dark-brown eyes met mine, and I saw in them a hint of fear.
I sighed. Okay. This was Sun’s decision, even if I didn’t agree. They would know best, I guess. But the thought of having someone actually miss you, worry about you, resurrected a familiar pain. I’d had that once. I didn’t have it now.
“Fine,” I said, defeated. There was no arguing with a cat. “Fine. Okay. We’ll continue with our plan. Which, by the way, was really vague on how we were going to return you to normal Sun. Any ideas in that regard?”
Sun tilted their head, then hopped off the bed and crossed the floor to my computer chair. They jumped from the chair to my desk, sitting right in front of the picture I had of my grandmother.
Sun batted at it.
“My grandmother? She’s dead, Sun.” A lump formed at the base of my throat, and again I dashed my tears away with my sleeve. “I told you that. Remember? Our date at the coffee shop?”
Sun’s head snapped up, eyes wide, like they’d sniffed catnip.
Oh. I said date. Our date. Embarrassing. Wow. My ears went hot. I pushed on, choosing to ignore how my brain to mouth filter didn’t work before 6:00 a.m.
“Uh.” I cleared my throat. “What about my grandmother? She could use magic, but she wasn’t powerful like Antonia or Fable. She just made potions and cast butterflies. She had this ancient recipe book that she used to make soup…” I trailed off. “Wait. She had books. She had to have owned a spell book. It could’ve been the recipe book.” I shot to my feet. “She’d never mentioned the Consortium to me, and Antonia once said that there was no way they could know everyone, watch everyone. The spell book could still be in her belongings.”
Sun meowed.
“But,” I said, deflating, “I don’t have access to her things. After she died, I wasn’t allowed to return to the house and was immediately sent away.”
Sun tilted their head and meowed again.
I had no idea what they were saying, but that didn’t stop me from trying to have a conversation. “I mean, we could go to her house and look. There’s nothing stopping me now. And even if there’s not a spell book, there might be something. Anything. It’s a place to start.”
Sun sat primly, little paws tucked close, tail wrapped around their body, and nodded once.
“I know that I’m the genius of this relationship, but that was really smart thinking.”
Relationship. Again. Slip of the tongue. I should just bury myself.
“Okay, if you think Fable’s place is far out, wait until you see my grandma’s cabin. It’s north of the city, and it’ll take some time to get to, but it’s not like we have anything more pressing to do.”
It was still early, but I was rejuvenated by the thought of going home. If the little cabin in the quiet cul-de-sac was even still standing. I didn’t know. I hadn’t been back, but it was worth a try.
I scrambled around my room, shoving some clothes into my bag for me and Sun in case we were successful in turning Sun human. I grabbed my phone charger and wallet and ensured the Spell Binder was settled safely inside. Sun watched from their perch on the desk as I ran around my room and demurely looked away when I changed my clothes.
“Okay,” I said, clapping my hands. “Let’s go. We’ll hit a coffee shop for some breakfast and coffee, and then we’ll find a bus headed that way.”
Sun hopped down from the desk, and without any argument, jumped into the top of my bag. I zipped it up around them and slid the bag on my shoulders.
Having Sun this close to me again made me want to mention the cuddling. I didn’t mention the cuddling.
“Ready?”
Sun meowed. That was the best answer I could receive.
* * *
Despite an incident at the coffee shop where a little girl really wanted to pet the cute kitty in my bag, the trip to the cottage was relatively uneventful. There wasn’t a bus that was scheduled for a few hours, so I ended up having to use a car service, which cost a significant amount. But the job with Antonia had put enough in my bank account to cover it and whatever other expenses I’d incur on this mission.
Grandma’s cabin sat at the end of a long, winding street. It was a neighborhood of sorts, with scattered houses on big lots of green and large areas with old-growth trees. Sun was pressed against my thigh, cuddling me again, a low rumble emanating from their chest. It was the cutest thing ever. But as adorable as Sun was in a gray, fluffy body with ears and a tail, I missed my Sun. The Sun who cast unimpressed looks in my direction and who smiled softly and was blunt to a fault and who, I had realized, beyond that thorny exterior, was inherently considerate and felt deeply for those they loved.
The driver pulled in front of the house. I used my phone to pay and roused Sun with a nudge from my leg. They yawned and stretched and hopped into my bag with little fuss.
Once the car pulled away, I set Sun on the ground, and they followed me up the brick path. The grass was overgrown in the front yard, tall wildflowers tangled all over what was once manicured beds and pruned bushes.
“Wow. It’s still here,” I said, marveling. A year away had felt like an eternity. My chest went tight with the thought. “I hope no one lives here now. That would be awkward. But judging by the lawn, I assume it’s vacant.”
Other than the overgrowth of the front yard, the cabin itself appeared to be in good shape, almost pristine. No leaves on the awning of the porch. No vines climbing up the sides. No evidence of weathering at all in my absence. Huh, that was strange.
As we neared, Sun suddenly hissed beside me. Their back arched.
And that’s when I saw it too, an almost transparent sheen encompassing the house.
“A ward,” I breathed.
Sun scuttled away, gray fur fuzzed out. I didn’t blame them. I’d made the mistake of touching Antonia’s wards twice and paid the painful price for doing so both times. Antonia’s wards buzzed like live wires, but this one… seemed different… felt different… like butterflies.
“I’m going to touch it.”
Sun growled in warning.
“It’s okay,” I said, curious but unafraid. “It feels like Grandma.” I placed my hand flat against the magic. It tingled in my fingers and against the palm of my hand, warm and comforting. The ward rippled, wobbling outward from where my hand pressed in. The vibrating increased, and then, without warning, it popped, like a soap bubble.
I flexed by fingers and grinned down at Sun. “Wow. That was cool.”
Sun made a noise that was akin to a grumble, and I laughed. Of course, when I tried the door, it was locked.
Luckily for me, the ceramic frog with the wide mouth sat next to the welcome mat. I picked it up and tipped it over, and the spare key tumbled to the deck.
Sun huffed.
“I know, right?” I said. “A ward and a key? That tells me that no one has been in here. And that means, if Grandma did have a spell book, it’s still inside.”
The door had always stuck, and there was a trick to opening it. Pull the handle, turn the key, push inward, and yay! It worked. We were inside.
The living room looked just as I’d left it, though the recliner, worn rug, and couch with the crocheted blanket on the back were all covered in a thick layer of dust from being vacant. The house still smelled the same too, a little mustier than I remembered, but the same. A wave of nostalgia washed over me so fiercely that my knees went weak, and I grabbed the back of the couch to steady myself. As if sensing my discomfort, Sun wove between my legs, rubbing against the fabric of my jeans. I didn’t call them out on it and shrugged off my bag and set it in the recliner.
Unfortunately, the house was hot and stuffy, and when I tried to flick the light switch, nothing blinked on because, well, no one had paid the electricity bill in a year. I sighed and looked down at Sun. “Come on. This way.”
To the left of the living room was the kitchen. I stepped through the archway and walked to the drawer by the oven, whose heat-swollen wood resisted when I tried to pull it out. With a firm yank, I was able to open it, and on the top was a book. Sun jumped to the counter and meowed.
“Yeah, this is the one I was thinking about.”
I gently took the well-worn book from the drawer and carefully peeled back the cover. There was a recipe for soup. Right, I remembered that one, the one she’d make me when I was sick. Okay, but a recipe, not a spell. I turned the page. And there was one for banana bread. And the next page was one for peach pie. My heart sank.
Sun peered down at the writing.
I turned the page.
A casserole.
“Uh, this is not looking good, Sun. I’m sorry, but it looks like it’s only recipes.”
I flipped through faster, and each entry was more food and more food and an alcoholic punch, which, damn, Grandma, that called for a lot of rum. But no luck. It really was just a recipe book. I sighed and closed it, running my hand over the spine.
“Well, okay, so our first plan did not work. That’s okay, though. There are other options. And hey, at least we’re safe here.”
Someone knocked on the front door.
I spun on my heel, heart pounding. Sun hissed from their position on the counter, ears flattened.
“Maybe if we ignore it, they’ll go away,” I whispered.
Another knock. “I know you’re in there,” someone called.
Oh shit. “Maybe if we hide?”
“I saw you go in.”
Okay, so ignoring and hiding were out. “In a minute!” I called back.
I turned to Sun. “What do I do? What should I do?”
But Sun was a cat and couldn’t tell me, and I was freaking out.
“Come on, Eddie! I know it’s you.”
That brought me up short. Eddie? No one called me Eddie anymore. The Consortium surely wouldn’t.
I crossed into the living room, caught the edge of a window drape with my finger, and moved it aside.
A woman stood on the porch. A woman I vaguely recognized.
I opened the door a crack and peered around the edge.
“It is you!” she said, smiling, her brown eyes shining. “I can’t believe it. You’re back!”
“Um…”
“Do you remember me?” She waved her hand. “I babysat you a few times when you were young, and then I went away to college for a while. When I came back to the neighborhood, you were gone.”
I wrinkled my brow. Wait. I did remember a teenager who watched me a few times and then graduated from high school and left. She was about ten years older than me and had dark-brown skin, curly hair, bright brown eyes, and a wide smile. “Mavis?”
She smiled. “Yes! You do remember! I should’ve known. You were always so smart and curious! A little genius. I almost couldn’t believe it was you when the car pulled up, but you have the same smile you had when you were a kid.” She clasped her hands together. “I was so sad when I heard about your grandma and that you were taken away. I returned home right after it happened.”
I scratched the back of my neck. “Yeah. I live in the city now. Just came back here to find something of Grandma’s. Anyway, Mavis, this isn’t exactly the best time—”
“Oh my goodness, is that your cat?” Mavis squealed and pushed past me into the house. She crouched down to where Sun sat in the archway between the living room and kitchen. “It’s so cute! Look at those little paws.”
Sun flattened and hissed.
“Oh. Yes. But be careful. They don’t like to be petted.”
Mavis pulled her hand back just in time to avoid getting clawed and hugged her bent knees instead, staring intently at Sun.
“Oh,” she said softly. “You’re not a cat at all, are you?”
I froze. Sun froze. We all froze. Then I very slowly and deliberately shut the door behind me.
“Mavis?”
She stood and turned toward me, hands on her hips, and shook her head. “You are in a lot of trouble, Rook.”
17 ROOK
I gulped. “I think I liked it better when you called me Eddie.”
She clucked her tongue. “You’ve messed up, kid.” She rolled her neck and tipped her head back to look at the ceiling, sighing dramatically as she did so. “And you’ve put me in an awkward position.”
“I haven’t really,” I said. I stayed by the door and wiggled my fingers next to my side to get Sun’s attention. They caught on, thankfully, and slunk their way toward me. “Nothing to see here. Nothing to report to the Consortium, which I feel like you might have a relationship with if you know my magic name and what’s going on.”
She held out her hand, palm up, and a small spark of magic blazed upward, like a miniature firework, before bursting into an impressive flower of sparkles. Mavis was magic. Oh. Well. That would have been great information to have before I opened the door.
“The scrying mirrors have been lit up for days with your face and name and your darling little kitty here.” She pointed. “Sun, right?”
Sun sat next to my foot. And if looks could curse, Mavis would have been swarmed with scorpions about thirty seconds ago. I glanced at the door behind me. We could run, I guess, make a break for it, but Mavis seemed unconcerned by that option, like she had a plan if we tried, or knew there wasn’t much of an escape route. Also, my backpack sat on the recliner, and I couldn’t leave the Spell Binder behind.
“What else have the mirrors said?”
“Just that you’re dangerous and have broken a ton of Consortium laws. Luckily, they don’t know anything about you other than you’re Antonia Hex’s apprentice, who she calls ‘Rook.’ Which we need to have a discussion on how you became her apprentice because that would be a feat for anyone in general but especially for someone who doesn’t have magic.” Sun’s tail twitched in agitation, and it brushed against my ankle. “But I knew the real you,” Mavis continued. “So, I’ve kept a lookout on the house to see if you would finally return. And you have.”
“And what? You told them? For recognition or cookies or whatever?”
Mavis shrugged. “I didn’t tell them anything. Not yet anyway.”
My breath stuttered out in a relieved gasp. We still had a chance. “Why?”
Mavis slowly walked around the living room, her fingertips trailing along the back of the couch. Dust motes trailed in her wake in the weak sunlight filtering through the covered windows.
Sweat gathered at the back of my neck. The room was hot, and Mavis’s attitude was not helping. What was it with sorcerers and their penchant for theatrics and moral ambiguity?
“I wanted to decide for myself. I don’t take the words of those in power as absolute, especially when they are notorious for being secretive and known for their oppressive tactics.”
“That’s a good life policy.”
She smirked. “So, Eddie or Rook, want to tell me what exactly has the Consortium after you?”
“Not really.” I hooked my thumbs in the pockets of my jeans and rocked back on my heels, going for the innocent-kid look. I wasn’t sure it worked. “The usual, I guess.”
Mavis shook her head, her curly hair bouncing around her face. “Not good enough, kid. You have to give me more information than that.”
“Or what?” I asked. “You just said you don’t trust them. And the way I see it, if you were concerned about the Consortium yourself or if you wanted to earn brownie points, you would’ve turned us in the minute you saw us.”
She huffed, unamused. “What if I was lying and I did? And I’m stalling until they get here?”
I hadn’t thought of that. I scooped Sun into my arms and, for a brief second, took my eyes off Mavis and glanced out of the front window. I didn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean they weren’t out there. Sun let out a disgruntled yowl when I held them too close, but I ignored it as I twisted back to face Mavis. My heart pounded. I could probably run past her to the back door, but there was no way I could grab the bag and keep ahold of Sun and Mavis obviously had magic and who knows how powerful she was, and—I sucked in air, chest heaving. My whole body was stiff with fear, caught between fight, flight, or freeze.
