Chalice and Blade Page 11

I had to admit she had a point. I’d felt, growing up, that I was always a year or so behind my peers in everything, from the music I liked to discovering an interest in boys. And I did push people away. One of the things that I loved about my various hockey teams over the years was they provided a social life without intruding on my privacy.

  “So what changed?” I asked.

  “You did,” Mom said. “You’ve come into your own this last year or so.”

  I cocked my head. “Since I began actively using my talents and learning more magic.”

  G-ma laughed once. “Oooh. That was pointed.”

  “Yes,” Mom said, ignoring her mother’s comment. “And I see now that I was wrong not to teach you myself. That in trying to protect you, I held you back even more.”

  Her regret poured off her like water. She’d done what she thought was best for me, even if I hadn’t been given any choice in it and didn’t agree. I guessed that being the parent of an empathic, psychic, magical daughter probably wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, but I couldn’t help but dig in the needle just the tiniest bit.

  “Good thing, then, that I met Diego, who trusted and believed in me.”

  Mom winced, then nodded. “Yes.”

  I stood. “Okay. Thanks for telling me.” I took the two steps needed to bring me next to her, bent, and hugged her. “So we’ll go forward from here.” I straightened up. “But right now I want to get this nasty snake-juice off of me.”

  G-ma laughed again. “You certainly got the worst of it.”

  “In so many ways,” I said, and headed upstairs.

  It felt good to strip off my snake sludge-ruined clothes and throw them in the trash bin. It felt good to know my mom now trusted and respected me. A long, hot shower was going to feel great.

  Diego showed up at my house in the morning with coffee and pastries from Tea Leaf and Coffee Bean. He set the Styrofoam cups and a bag on the coffee table, grabbed me and hugged me tight to his chest. I read his vibe like it was words on a page: he’d been worried about me going off to the darkling lands without him and was glad I was home safe.

  Dee had always had this thing about protecting me, even though he knew I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I had, in fact, protected and saved him a time a two. Now that I was used to his Knight Errant ways and knew neither of us needed to prove anything to the other, I found it rather sweet.

  He turned me loose and settled on the sofa. “So—tell me all about it.”

  I told him about the darkling lands, the watchers, the three-headed snake, and recovering the chalice. Dee sipped at his coffee and ate a cinnamon roll while I talked. I told him about my mom finally explaining why she’d tried so hard to give me an ordin life.

  When I’d finished, he set down his coffee and whistled low. “Been an eventful couple of days for you. Where’s the chalice now?”

  “Here,” I said, glad actually that he didn’t want to talk about my parents and the way they’d raised me. “Upstairs in the box with the blade.”

  Dee steepled his fingers and rested his chin on the platform of his thumbs. “Are we going to turn them over to Modis?”

  “You’re hesitant, too,” I said, hearing it in his voice.

  He shrugged. “I think we might want to talk to The Gate before we turn them over to anyone.”

  That seemed sensible.

  Chapter 15

  Jack showed up at my house the next morning while Dee and I were finishing breakfast.

  “Coffee?” I offered as I led the magic policeman down the hall toward the kitchen at the back of the house.

  “No.” He added, “Thank you,” almost as an afterthought.

  On the outside, Jack looked his usual, calm, self-contained self. His vibe, though, was all jitters and expectations. I felt his nervousness as if it were my own, but couldn’t pick out the cause—Dee and me going to visit The Gate? Jack’s own responsibility as a cop to find Hugo’s murderer? Maybe he worried we’d get in his way. Maybe he worried we’d figure it out first. That wouldn’t look good to his boss or The Magic Council.

  Dee stood when we came into the kitchen and the two men shook hands.

  I’d have thought them closer than their greeting indicated, given how hard Jack had worked to find and free Dee and The Gate when Gil had abducted them. I would have said they were ‘bro hugs’ friends if someone had asked. Evidently, they were mere handshake friends—today, at least. And Jack a little reticent to do even that.

  Jack was a cop first and a human second, but he’d broken some of his own rules to help rescue the two wizards. Maybe that explained his reticence now. Dee and I weren’t constrained by the rules the way Jack was. Maybe he worried we’d talk him into compromising his ethics or something. Not that we would. Not unless it was necessary.

  “How have you been?” Dee picked up his coffee cup, took it to the sink and rinsed it.

  “Fine,” Jack said. “A lot going on. The Gate is expecting you.”

  “Then we’d best get going,” I said.

  Jack nodded and muttered spell words under his breath. There was that quick whoosh that comes when you’re being beamed somewhere, my ears popped, and then Dee and I were standing inside The Gate’s cell in the magic police station.

  Jack’s vibe grew antsier. I almost smiled when I got it: he’d snuck us past McGowan’s eyes by bringing us straight into The Gate’s cell. Not the way Jack was supposed to do it, but the way he’d chosen to, whatever his reasons. Jack, being Jack, could decide to thwart his boss, but he wouldn’t be comfortable with it. He stood by the door, his arms crossed over his chest.

  The Gate, sitting on the twin bed in his white-walled cell, looked up and beamed at me. His brow furrowed when he turned his gaze to Dee. He stood and held out his arms as if offering an embrace.

  “Diego. How are you?”

  The men embraced briefly. The Gate resettled on the bed. Dee moved one of the wooden chairs tucked up on the table for me. He took the other himself. Jack again stood by the door. The same two books from the other day and a clear plastic carafe of water and a green plastic tumbler sat on the table.

  “Getting along,” Dee answered The Gate. “Coming to grips.”

  The Gate sighed. “You found what you were searching for, I assume, or you wouldn’t be back.”

  “We did. It’s safe.”

  Jack leaned forward. “What were you looking for, Diego?” He took a step toward us. “The blade stolen from Hugo Bernard?”

  I hid my surprise pretty well, I thought. I’d assumed Jack knew Mom, G-ma, and I were tasked with finding the chalice, and that Drake and Dee were sent to find and recover the blade. Evidently, he hadn’t known, which was interesting.

  And made me wonder if Modis had gone to The Council at all. The formality should have been The Council first, who would either approve or not approve whomever Modis wanted on the hunt. If Modis had no one in particular in mind, The Magic Council would assign hunters.

  The Council was unlikely to have named Diego and certainly not me as their champions. What I suspected now was that Modis had chosen us itself, bypassing The Magic Council altogether. That had to mean something, but I wasn’t quite sure what.

  The Gate fixed Jack with a bland expression. “We more or less agreed to let you hear everything that passes between us. We didn’t agree to explain.”

  Jack leaned back against the door and re-crossed his arms. “The agreement is now expanded to include explanations and answers to any questions I ask.”

  A big silence filled the room.

  “Why not?” The Gate said finally and grinned.

  I covered my smile with my hand. The Gate never gave in so easily unless he was getting exactly what he’d wanted in the first place.

  The older wizard shifted his gaze to me. “Please, have a seat. We have much to discuss.”

  I settled in the chair.

  “Oh, and Oona,” Jack said from by the door. “Don’t pull your mind-reading act. I brought you two
here. I expect to hear everything that transpires.”

  “Of course, Officer Schneider.”

  Jack glared a moment and then half rolled his eyes. I didn’t hide the smile that caused.

  “Let’s start with the chalice and the blade,” Jack said.

  Dee and The Gate both turned their attention to me.

  “It starts with a smoke-being chasing my parents into my house.”

  I went on to tell how Modis tasked my mother and me with finding the stolen chalice. How Drake and Dee were asked to find the stolen blade. How someone, somewhere wanted those two items in hopes that stealing them would get the fairies and the humans to blame each other and start a war between them. How Hugo Bernard was the Keeper of the blade and was killed when it was stolen—killed in a particularly brutal way, though Jack already knew that part. That the stolen items had now been recovered and Modis had requested that we turn them over to it, but that we hadn’t so far.

  “Why are you holding on to them?” Jack asked.

  I half shrugged and shook my head. “We just got back yesterday. There hasn’t been time to notify Modis.”

  Jack, The Gate, and I shifted our gazes to Dee.

  “The blade is safe.”

  “Good,” Jack and The Gate said at the same moment.

  The Gate kept his eyes on Jack. “I’ve tasked these two,” he waved generally in our direction, “with finding who killed Hugo. We go back a long ways together, Hugo and me. I’m sure you’ve heard the story of our breach. We both suffered a loss when his wife and children left.” The Gate’s eyes narrowed and his voice turned rough. “Hugo should not have died the way he did. I want to know who did it. I will have justice for my friend.”

  Jack’s gaze hardened. “Finding the killer is our job. Leave it to the magic police. We’re good at what we do.”

  “Yes, yes,” The Gate said impatiently. “So good that the magic police have me tucked away here in a cell with a murder charge next to my name.”

  “Sean McGowan believes the evidence against you is compelling.”

  “What evidence?” I asked.

  Jack glanced at me. “The Gate was seen leaving Hugo’s house shortly before the body was discovered.”

  My gaze flicked to The Gate who only lifted one shoulder in a small shrug that could have meant anything. I sent my sense out toward him. His vibe was consciously guarded. For whatever reason, he didn’t want me feeling his emotions.

  “The evidence is mere hearsay,” he said, his focus on Jack. “Sean McGowan is a horse’s ass. If you believed the charge, you never would have brought Oona and Diego straight here, bypassing your boss.”

  Jack uncrossed his arms. “I keep an open mind.”

  “Good.” The Gate smiled. “I’m sure you will also keep an open mind about the help Diego and Oona can give you in this search.”

  Jack crossed his arms again. “There is no search. We have our killer.”

  “Jack,” Dee said, but was cut off by harsh glares from both men.

  The energy traveling between the two men made my shoulders ride up and my stomach cramp. I could see the watery haze, like heat off a hot road, of the magic each man put behind his words—magic that pushed and shoved at the other, Jack and The Gate battling for dominance and control.

  “If you already have your man,” The Gate said, “then there’s no need for you to be kept abreast of the useless and time-wasting search my two friends will conduct.”

  “I would be interested in hearing what they learn,” Jack said. “Open mind and all. So here’s the deal: I will bring Diego and Oona to you occasionally. They will report to me daily on what they are doing and what they have learned.”

  “And you’ll return the favor of information,” Dee cut in.

  Jack considered it. “As I’m able.”

  I wasn’t happy with the deal they were making. Dee seemed okay with it, as long as we got something in return, but I chafed against feeling like a bargaining chip. I chafed against feeling that Jack was getting more than he was giving. But if he stayed out of our way and offered help when he could—it’d be worth it.

  The magical push and shove between Jack and The Gate stopped. The Gate clapped his hands.

  “Done,” he said. “So long as the daily debriefings take place here, with me.”

  Jack frowned. The more often he snuck us into The Gate’s cell, the more chance he’d get caught at it. McGowan surely wouldn’t be pleased at that.

  “Done,” Jack said.

  “Not done,” I said.

  Chapter 16

  The three men in the room all turned to look at me. I looked straight at The Gate.

  “In return for finding Hugo’s killer, I want you to promise here and now that as soon as the murderer has been brought to justice you will teach me how to build a magic screen to filter out other people’s emotions and physical sensations. I want you to teach me to build a screen I can control, so I can feel or not feel as I choose.”

  As an empath, I was under nearly constant bombardment from the emotions and physical pains of people around me. I’d lived with it for as long as I could remember and I was damn tired of it. I liked being able to slip into people’s minds, but too often their thoughts rang in my head if I wanted to know them or not. But I didn’t want the abilities completely masked. There were times when it was good or useful to know what others felt and thought. I wanted to keep the best and jettison the rest. I didn’t think it was too much to ask.

  Silence fell in the room. I felt Jack’s worry that if I refused to help, Diego would too and the true killer would never be found. I felt Dee’s sudden upwelling of pleasure at my demand. I felt The Gate’s conflicting desire not to be pushed into doing something he didn’t want to do—though I couldn’t tell why he didn’t want to help me—and his need for me to use my skills and abilities to do what he wanted.

  The Gate grinned. “Of course.”

  The excitement thrilling my nerves over The Gate’s agreement to finally—finally—teach me how to filter out the unwanted thoughts and feelings of other people dissipated when I thought about all we had to accomplish before that could happen.

  My excitement melted clean away when I thought about the chalice and blade sitting in a wooden box in my bedroom closet. And Modis.

  Jack had beamed Diego and me back to Dee’s house. The beer Dee had pulled out of the refrigerator for me sat untouched on the kitchen table. His was down only a few swallows’ full.

  “Say it, Oona,” Dee said. “I can’t read your mind.”

  That almost made me laugh.

  “I know that my mom wants us to turn the chalice and blade over to Modis, but every sense I have is telling me it’s a bad idea,” I said.

  “Bad how?”

  The fingers of my left hand were entwined with his, our joined hands resting on the tabletop. I drummed my right-hand fingers on my thigh. “I don’t know. I can’t get a fix on the reason, but every time I think about calling Modis to come get them, my stomach knots up.”

  Dee thought that over. In the year we’d been together, he’d come to trust my intuition almost as much as I did.

  “Do you have the sense that the smoke-beasts at your mother’s house and Modis are connected?” he said.

  “Do you?” Because while Dee wasn’t psychic, he was perceptive.

  “It crossed my mind,” he said.

  It had crossed mine, too. I turned Dee’s hand loose, centered myself and felt the smoke-beasts and Modis side-by-side. They were similar beings. They were after the same thing, though Modis, as guardian for the Keepers, had an understandable reason. The smoke-beasts? Who knows why they were after the chalice and blade. Whatever their reason, I didn’t think it was to preserve harmony between the humans and the fairies.

  I shook my head. “I don’t feel a connection between Modis and the beasts.”

  Dee took a sip of beer. “Do the artifacts have some power on their own? Could the smoke-beasts have been after them for a totally di
fferent reason than why Modis wants them?”

  I shrugged. “I’ve held both the artifacts and didn’t sense any special magic in them.” I thought about it some more. “But there are all kinds of magic. They could be imbued with something I’m not familiar with and can’t feel. Fairy magic. Or something the dwarves who made them put in. Or not. I don’t know.”

  Dee grinned. “Hell of a lot of good you are.”

  I punched his shoulder and laughed.

  Dee sobered. “Let’s keep the artifacts a while.”

  “I’d like to talk to The Gate more about them,” I said.

  “We can do that tomorrow.”

  “Jack is supposed to fetch us from my house,” I said. “Do you want to call and have him meet us here?” A thought struck me. “Does he have to physically be with us to beam us to The Gate? Can he do it from wherever he happens to be?”

  Dee didn’t answer any of my questions, only pulled his phone from his pocket to make the call.

  I moved to the living room and sat on the surprisingly comfortable, in spite of having very crisp, modern lines, couch in the living room and thought about what we should do with the chalice and the blade if we didn’t give them to Modis. We couldn’t keep them, obviously. They needed to be with whoever was chosen to be the new guardians. Who decided that?

  And what about the third sacred item, the one meant to restore harmony if things went sideways? Was that guardian also in mortal danger? Should the two recovered items go to him (I knew it was a him because Modis had said, ‘He doesn’t to be known) for safekeeping until new guardians were chosen, or would having all three artifacts in one place put Keeper number three in more danger?

  Dee came around the corner from the kitchen into the living room.

  Jack was right behind him.

  Chapter 17

  I greeted the magic policeman with a polite, “Hello,” acting not at all nonplused that he’d beamed himself into Dee’s house. Sometimes I surprise myself with my gift for feigned nonchalance.