A Wild Conversion Page 9

  She made it into the shop, had sent a magical bolt of announcement in front of her when she had started. Despite her desire to just send herself here, opening and closing portals could be all too obvious to anyone watching—and Frederick and Jenny should be safe for the few extra minutes this journey would take.

  Unfortunately, she did not find her informant alone. McMeeney Distaff’s sister was in the shop, too, seemed to be hanging around endlessly.

  This was no surprise, as she had apparently been mooning over Brandon ever since her school days. The fact that he had long since partnered only made her sigh more.

  Emma added one of her own sighs and sent a little spark of magical static to her informant to let him know they were there.

  Thankfully, Brandon did a marvelous job of finally ushering the woman out the door. His avoidance was practically a magical skill on its own.

  Once his visitor was gone, Emma flicked a powerful ignore-me spell over the building and finally appeared to the shopkeeper. The small widening of his eyes in acknowledgment just showed her how much she had changed.

  She didn’t look in the mirror behind her to calculate the amount of discoloration in her irises now, wasn’t certain she wanted to know how far along her conversion was—or how powerful. She was going to have to learn as she went.

  Still, she did have to reach out to steady poor Natalie, their method of travel unsettling her. Even her friend’s hair was in chaos.

  “Sorry,” Emma murmured, smoothing along it quietly.

  Her friend just smiled. “I understand.” And Emma knew she did.

  When Natalie glanced in the mirror, she laughed. “Ooh, pretty.”

  It was only then Emma realized that she had unintentionally given her an entirely new—and rather becoming—hairstyle.

  To say the least, her new status was disconcerting. Focusing back on Brandon, she couldn’t say what she wanted in front of his daughter, who was watching interestedly. Her horse half was stretched out on the floor, her human portion wearing a pink dress and sitting up, playing with a three-dimensional mind puzzle Natalie had created for her a year ago.

  Still, her centaur father understood, taking it all in stride. He usually did. Unlike the classical world would imagine, his human half was not naked but covered in a full, 18th-century frilly shirt and dress coat, his long, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Except for his horse half, he dressed from a full century earlier than most of the town.

  “Here,” he pointed. Once they moved beyond the curtain, they were in another world—and, when someone said that on this side of the barrier in Salem, they meant it quite literally.

  The back room wasn’t a room, then, but rolling hills. One didn’t become a creature who could hide from everything but folklore without getting really good at different dimensions.

  Emma barely noticed the change, was just relieved she hadn’t brought Frederick, who had had enough shocks for one day without subjecting him to fairy tales into the bargain. “Your daughter . . .” she began.

  Brandon nodded. “. . . will understand. She’s old enough now.” He drew a symbol in front of him. “Will you sit?”

  A large, comfortable sofa had appeared behind the two ladies, one straight out of a mundane furniture showroom from the 1990s or so. Despite its utter incongruity, that was no surprise. Brandon made his living from selling the unnoticed and unwanted bits from various dimensions to magical Salem. It was a recycling plan which worked quite well for all.

  The two women followed his invitation, and he waited till they were comfortable. Even though she was desperate to get to the facts, her earlier encounter with Everly Distaff had convinced her of how important the proprieties could be.

  “I understand it’s urgent?” he prompted them.

  Sighing, Emma knew centaurs had a reputation as understanding far more than they ever revealed and hated to play to their stereotypes, but she trusted him, knew he could help.

  “Unfortunately, I’m not certain exactly what I’m looking for. I’m still finding the shape of things. There’s the train wreck today, the comings-and-goings of the Everly clan, especially the youngest one’s child, and, well . . . just anything else out of the ordinary you’ve heard lately.”

  He raised an eyebrow, and she supposed he was right. They didn’t have the time for all that.

  “. . . that has to do with the more-established families in Salem or the workings of the city, I suppose,” she narrowed.

  Nodding solemnly in acknowledgment, Brandon always understood what was needed. She usually only came here to find out about those who required a little extra help but would never actually dare ask for it, those she hadn’t found out about on her own. It made her feel like a snoop sometimes, but she just couldn’t abide knowing others were forced to go without. She only hoped none of them saw her as more of an annoyance than a help.

  Many times, she had wondered how many others Brandon told things to. Certainly, she hoped they didn’t include the Everlys or their like. Given all that was going on, she might have to choose her payment rather carefully.

  He began at once, and she listened. “There’s a new witch in the village, although the Everlys have shielded her arrival well. Few know about her. There are only rumors of her child, but if the family breeds true yet again, the balance of power may turn.”

  That Brandon had a tendency to speak like an oracle was fairly normal for centaurs. Emma wasn’t certain whether it were an honored idea of their culture or just the way they chose to irritate the outside world which couldn’t accept them. Either way, she usually rather enjoyed it.

  Knowing her informant understood this, she started to make her payment while waiting for the rest—although she would never know whether her own information were new to him or not.

  “The new one is Jane, or Jenny. She’s untrained. I don’t know how much magic she may have. Her child is Livy, and her powers are already manifesting.”

  Unusually, his eyes widened, some fear evident there. It was the most emotional display she’d ever witnessed from him, and she didn’t blame him—too much power in Everly hands not at all comforting.

  “Jane’s brother, Frederick, was brought here in the train crash today.”

  Brandon leaned in toward her, staring deeply, and she had to force herself not to break eye contact—whatever he would see in her another part of the payment.

  “He’s an untrained sorcerer.”

  Understandably, he seemed worried. “Converted?”

  “Not yet.”

  He nodded. “But it is only ever a matter of time. You will train him, Maitre?”

  She began to worry, as she seemed to only be making payment. “If he lets me.” Quickly, she changed subjects. “The Everlys . . .”

  Nodding again, he did his part. “The new arrival is from another time.”

  It was half a question, and she nodded in agreement.

  “He is bred from Everly blood.”

  Once more, she nodded, and he stood up taller, his eyes terrible.

  “Then he is not the first.”

  She opened her mouth to ask, but he went on.

  “All the great families have meddled in the mundane world—Everly, Philbert, Randolph. Each plays their part. The question others will have to face is: to what end?” His look darkened. “And will all survive it?”

  The idea sent a shiver through her blood, and she quickly realized Natalie was trembling, too. She put her hand on her arm but didn’t look away from Brandon. “Is it too late to stop them?”

  While she didn’t understand exactly what these families were doing, she feared. Whether it were supernatural knowledge or simply the ability to see the whole picture much earlier than most, a centaur’s warning was never to be ignored.

  Of course, he didn’t answer directly. The Cassandra types never did.

  “This is what you must ask yourself. If a male Everly is here, did they send for him?”

  Emma frowned. It seemed doubtful, given their re
actions so far, and Frederick certainly seemed unaware of any greater forces at work. But then Everly Distaff had said that she would return for him, as well . . .

  “Or is Hecate’s hand at work again, giving us the keys to survival, even amidst the chaos of order some may wish for us?”

  His open hand pointed toward the door of light which shone surreally in the air of the hillside.

  “That is the answer and the work you must seek.”

  She knew when she was being dismissed, Brandon telling her everything he was likely to. Rising with Nat, she heard a voice, before she could thank him. It was quite soft at first, then increasingly urgent. Finally, it seemed to nearly take her head off.

  EMMA!

  She had no idea of the wild surges of power which shone in her eyes. “Frederick!” she worried.

  Brandon’s hand pointed, and the portal shifted the merest fraction, but Emma knew that it now pointed toward her home. “Go, child of Hecate. Save those who may be saved.”

  She didn’t need telling twice. Grabbing Natalie’s hand, she leapt through the doorway and back to the world of chaos she soon hoped to help.

  Arriving at her own front door, she rushed along, with Natalie in her wake, to an upper bedroom. It didn’t even occur to her to question where the summons had come from, and she probably would have decided it was due to her ongoing conversion, if she had.

  A moment later, she arrived to find Jenny still unconscious on the bed. Now, however, her brother was also insensible, Benjamin bent over where he lay on the floor.

  The fear she had felt from the moment of the summoning increased dreadfully. “Frederick!” No matter how strong a latent sorcerer he might be, there was only so much magic the untrained should ever attempt.

  Fortunately, her own conversion appeared to be going strong, the man’s eyes opening the second she leaned down to touch his face. “Emma,” he sighed in relief, grasping her hand. “Those lights, I’ve seen them . . .”

  Not having heard the conversation he’d been having with Benjamin before her arrival, she had little idea what he meant.

  Looking more deeply into the man’s eyes, she searched for any damage his call to her might have left. To make the summons that clear and that desperate, in his untrained state, he had to have drained himself considerably. She was only thankful not to find the entire Everly clan attacking the house, as the intensity of his call, the fear in it, still seared a bit in her mind.

  But she somehow understood the worried look he cast back at his sister. Whatever he had to say, he didn’t want the girl to hear it, and they both knew that she would need looking after. Grasping his hand more tightly, she knew she would have to give him what strength she could to help him heal from such magic, as he explained what he knew.

  Having made her decision, she stood up, leading Frederick with her and looking to her grandfather apologetically. “I’ll open a tunnel so you can hear.”

  Her gaze took in the girl sleeping quietly on the bed, her face no doubt showing her fears, and Benjamin nodded. Jenny’s wouldn’t be the first bedside where he had kept vigil. Maybe between them, they could start to find some answers.

  It was only as Emma was turning with the man that she remembered the other person here—Natalie.

  She almost startled, ashamed of herself. In her concern for Frederick, she had nearly forgotten about her best friend. It was a painful oversight and one which was probably going to be prodding her with guilt for quite sometime.

  Almost relieved that her mental link with the woman hadn’t been entirely reconnected yet, just enough to pass basic ideas, she gave her a quick smile. Hoping she would follow, Emma led her visitor out to a more comfortable sitting room in a bedroom suite near her own.

  Unaware why she chose that particular room, she assumed it must be some of Benjamin’s magic. He tended to ready rooms for visitors long before anyone else knew they were coming. She wondered how long ago he had prepared these.

  Whatever the details of her grandfather’s abilities, he had done his magic beautifully, as always. The room seemed imbued with Frederick’s essence even before the man entered it.

  She heard Natalie smile an approving, “Nice,” before she led her guest to a small sofa. Keeping his hand in her lap, even as they sat, she feared that he would need all the aid he could find in recuperating from his strain.

  Oddly, though, he didn’t seem particularly worn, just a little tired. Of course, it weren’t as though he had just done the kind of magic he had earlier in the day with the containment, but a summons that strong should have taken much more strength. She nearly shivered. If this were any indication of how powerful he really was, it was a frightening insight into the abilities the Everly clan hoped to control.

  It took only a thought to open up a tunnel to their conversation for Benjamin, and she gave just a second to ponder her own abilities. When she had first started her magic, almost everything had required particular words or motions—some sort of focus to make the magic go. After a while, the words could be spoken silently, the motions less noticeable. Now that she was converting, however, she felt she could do nearly anything with a mere thought.

  Some inner part of her screamed just slightly. Think of all the damage I can do, if I don’t hold myself together.

  This was probably the reason why she had always tended toward the old-fashioned look in clothing. Everything 19th century was so restrained and forced. It helped her keep a fine rein on her own inner temptations, as well.

  Holding Frederick’s hand in both of hers, then, she prompted, “What is it?” It seemed a bit silly, given the desperation of his summons, but he was from a more formal time. Perhaps he needed to have his opening presented to him.

  Seeming grateful, he smiled over at Natalie briefly, and Emma cursed the brief flash of jealousy which ached in her. She didn’t know whether it were more ridiculous to feel that way about her best friend or to make such a mental fuss about a man she had, as yet, refused to discuss her feelings with, anyway.

  Somehow, she had entirely forgotten that it had only been a few hours since they’d met.

  Thankfully, he began, leading her away from her petty thoughts. “There was more that happened on the train. That dark oil you removed . . .”

  Thoroughly refocused from her brief flash of emotions, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t discussed it with him earlier, although she supposed there had been ample distractions. Clearly, a simple derailment hadn’t caused his wounds.

  “The lume-noirs.” She squeezed his hand and was a little unsettled by how good it felt when he entwined his fingers with hers. “What happened?”

  Sitting back, he appeared to be straining, and she wasn’t certain whether it were the aftereffects of the magic or the disturbance of his memories. “I was on the train to visit my aunt in Salem. Not Hester, Penelope. She lives in . . .”

  He seemed lost for a moment.

  “. . . my Salem. I can see now that she’s running a school for magic there.” At the next confession, his voice dropped a bit. “I just feared she was losing her mind.”

  Considering what she now knew—or, at least, suspected—about the Everlys, this seemed like dangerous news. Who knew what might happen to time itself if they started adding magic to people who wouldn’t have known about it otherwise.

  She was going to interrupt, when he glanced back up to her, clearly saw her look. “What she does . . . it’s not . . .” He struggled again. “It doesn’t feel like Hester’s magic.”

  His eyes unfocused a moment, and she wondered how difficult it must be for him to have to relearn his entire world in just a few hours.

  “I think she’s trying to help hide those children.” Sitting back further, he looked serious. “I think there’s a reason they didn’t bring her with them.”

  Emma’s hands caressed his. “You think she’s working against them?”

  He nodded, and she let out a little breath, sitting back to gaze at Nat, who raised an eyebrow. So it was po
ssible to undo the family’s work, then. Maybe one of them had already rebelled.

  This gave them intriguing possibilities, although she didn’t know how powerful this Penelope might be. They could have left her behind as a nearly-null nuisance.

  She would have preferred this to the possibility that the woman was part of some other plan but pressed the matter on. “The accident?”

  Frederick let out a breath, and she could see that reliving it was difficult for him, which wasn’t a surprise. Even with no one apparently badly wounded, it would have been terrifying.

  “It started just as we derailed. The lights—the clair-lumes?”

  Wondering whether he meant the lume-noirs but not wanting to interrupt, she nodded.

  “They were all around the train. It was almost like . . .” He shook his head. “. . . an attack?”

  He seemed so uncertain—or, more appropriately, like he didn’t want to believe what he felt. Still, she could see that his soul understood details his mind had yet to catch up with.

  “What happened then?” she prompted. Clair-lumes alone hadn’t caused those wounds in his back.

  His gaze was distant, and she felt his grip tighten on her. “There was this . . . compulsion? Like the one Hester threw at my sister?”

  She nodded, and he shook his head.

  “The colors were different, but the feeling was the same.”

  “Someone was trying to force you to come to them?” Natalie broke in. It would make sense if the Everlys had caused the wreck to try to reclaim him. Perhaps, whatever their plans, they were progressing.

  Frederick shook his head, but the horror didn’t leave his eyes. “It wasn’t directed at me. There was a woman on the train with a baby.”

  Emma knew her own eyes were widening.

  “I thought they were trying to attack the child.”

  Somehow, she understood his injuries now. “You were protecting her—the little girl?” She didn’t know why she assumed the child were female, except that it fit in too neatly with the Everlys’ claim on Olivia.

  He nodded, and she felt fiercely proud of him. Of course he would. Even without the skills to do it, even without any knowledge of what he truly faced, he would stand up to anyone to protect. It was how they were alike.