To Spell & Back Page 9

  Tempest tossed the nondescript hunk of rock into a receptacle nestled in the bed of flaming coals, and I leaned over her shoulder to see what was in the crucible only to learn I’d been dead wrong. Molten metal glinted up at me with a liquid shine—and judging by the humming vibration from the compass hanging against my chest, I was staring at a pot of smelted living gold—the very thing I’d come here to find. The thing I had no idea how to harvest.

  Not that the experience of seeing my ancestors was trivial, but if I couldn’t figure out how to accomplish my goal, what was the point of coming here? My nerves began to tingle at the thought of another wasted trip. If I didn’t get the gold, I couldn’t fix the bow. If I failed to repair the bow, I would never embrace my destiny. And that meant more love seeping out of the world. I didn’t want to picture that future, and I certainly didn’t want my failure to have played a role in bringing it about.

  Think logically; I ordered my brain.

  Okay. Logic. Here we go. I could touch spider webs (shiver) and trip over obstacles. I could feel sweat trickling down my back from being so close to the flame and heat of the forge. Maybe I could pick up a small hunk of raw gold from the pile and put it in my pocket. Easy, right?

  I probably don’t need to tell you how utterly that plan failed, and while I'm thinking about it, a big, fat thank you to the universe for being way too picky about my options. Could have cut me a break for once, but no.

  On top of my plan not working, the compass kept vibrating until the sensation worked on my last nerve. Finally, I pulled it out to see if there was a way to stop the annoyance, and it practically yanked me off my feet to get closer to the gold. It was like the small instrument had a huge magnet in it, and I was helpless to stop the motion as it dragged me closer to the crucible.

  If tripping over a branch in the forest had left an angry scrape near my wrist, dunking my face in a container of molten gold was going to leave a bigger mark. I yanked the compass over my head and let it dangle by the chain instead, but the speed of its descent brought my hand close enough for the heat to frizzle the tiny hairs on my arm.

  If it dipped any lower, I’d have no other choice than to let go, but first, I let the chain run through them until there were hardly any links left to clasp and only the tips of my fingers retained contact.

  Time stretched out while my skin pinked from the heat, my resolve began to weaken, and my nerveless fingers started to unclench. Quick as a wink, the compass dodged left toward the pile of ore waiting to go into the fire. I heard a metallic slurping sound and saw a pea-sized pebble get sucked into the compass, which went limp in my hand. Well, okay then.

  Two steps back I welcomed air that brushed a cooler breeze against my brow. I’d done it. Or the compass had, but the result was the same. I could go home now.

  Or not.

  I’d never figured out how the ring functioned in reverse. Turning it hadn’t worked for me the last time, and I’d been so keyed up from what I’d seen, I hadn’t paid attention to anything else I might have done to trigger my return.

  Maybe it was on a timer, and if that were the case, I’d take this opportunity to stick around—like I had a choice—who knows, I might learn a useful skill or two to take back with me.

  Now that my attention wasn’t so focused on my goal, I heard chanting that sounded like it had been going on for some time and stepped around the fireplace to see what was happening. Standing in the middle of the pentacle already set in the flagstones I recognized from my time in the sanctum, Tempest worked a spell that made me want to clap like a fangirl at a boy-band concert. The iron bits of the partially-completed casting circle hovered around her at close to waist height. With one hand, she slowly spun the material to orient the pieces in front of her and with the other, she forced witchlight to weld the iron securely until each section was perfectly positioned.

  That would have been impressive enough, but she followed with another spell to speed up the whirling of the circle, then slowly lowered it into place. A groove opened up to accept the iron ring as seamlessly as though the stones had been made from butter and carved with a warm knife. Next, she crooked an index finger, and the crucible danced merrily through the air to tip and pour its molten gold contents over the iron ring, sealing it into place. The final component of the spell fell like a cooling balm over the living gold, which sizzled and spit before turning the bronze color I was used to seeing. If I hadn’t watched it happen myself, I wouldn’t have believed the unpolished casting circle had been constructed using the same material as the Bow of Destiny.

  I’d just succeeded in committing the spell she used to memory so I could tell it to Salem when the ring on my finger lit and I felt myself being dragged out of there. What a trip.

  Chapter Nine

  “WOW,” I STAMMERED, standing next to Salem in the sanctum once more. “That was intense.”

  “Did you get it?” Circling in a figure-eight, Salem vibrated with excitement as if I held a dozen tuna flavored treats.

  A wide smile lit my face. “Yep, I sure did. But I wouldn’t have been able to without the compass.” I showed him the scrapes from where I had fallen. “So, I can touch sticks and stones and spider webs while I’m there.” Remembering, I checked to see if there were still strands of sticky silk in my hair, “but I can’t pick up anything intentionally or bring anything back.” My hair was web-free. “And, I can’t fix the bow in the past, either. I thought the whole trip was a failure until the compass did...well, look.”

  I swept my hair off my neck to show Salem the compass, which had lifted off my chest, its arrow pointing in the direction of the fireplace. In close proximity, the living gold contained inside was drawn so strongly to the flame that the chain dug into my neck if I stood still.

  “All I had to do was get it close enough, and it absorbed a chunk of living gold.”

  “Raw ore, you mean?” Shock raised Salem’s voice to the level of a Siamese yowl. “What are you supposed to do with that?”

  “Oh, ye of little faith.” I’d seen my great grandmother work the Balefire like a forge, and it didn’t look too difficult: heat crucible in Balefire, add chunks of living gold. After that, it was a sure bet I could screw things up six ways to Sunday. We’d have to hope luck or intuition would be enough because those were all I had going for me. I’d relied solely on instinct since I realized I wasn’t going to come into my powers like a normal witch, and they had always gotten me through whatever storm I’d stumbled into.

  “Didn’t you say there was a crucible in the store room?” Salem maintains cats don’t scamper, but that’s as good a word as any for what he did.

  I unclasped the chain, wrapped it tightly around my hand to ease the yanking on my neck while a wide-eyed Salem sorted through the closet, and finally returned carrying a sturdy-looking pot with long handles on either side.

  “Found it.”

  “Rest the handles on the tops of the andirons, see how they were made just for that reason?”

  “Now to add the gold.” The compass strained toward the fire as if it, or the chunk of gold inside it, wanted to be given to the heat. Letting it lead the way, I strode forward to thrust the instrument, hand and all, into the fire licking around the waiting pot. Green flames tickled across my fingers, and I thanked my lucky stars for the Balefire genes that rendered the flickering tongues harmless to my skin. The compass needle spun in circles, faster and faster until it disgorged the lump with a whooshing sound.

  The nugget rattled into the bottom of the pot and lay there defiantly not melting. Assuming I must have missed a step, I replayed the memory. Gold in crucible—check. Flaming Balefire—check. Those games where you’re supposed to find the difference between two images—yeah, I suck at those. There had to be something, though.

  I could have slapped myself when I saw what I’d been missing. The color of the Balefire flame was off a few shades. Gathering my magic together, I aimed everything I had at the fireplace. Like the tide runs toward shore
, my legacy roared up, and through me. Tempest’s words slid out of my mouth in such a jumble I only heard them myself at the moment I said them.

  Flame, white and hot, traced tongues over the crucible’s bowl and the lump of metal gathered itself, burst outward, then smoldered and turned to liquid gold.

  “Now what?” Salem’s question competed with the sudden noise in my head. The Bow knew its salvation was at hand and it wanted to heal badly enough to beg for it. Or, that’s what I got from the noises it was making, anyway. More gurgled notes that sounded nothing like the tune it had played while resting on my father’s shoulder as he stepped between my mother and grandmother.

  Forgotten in my hand, the compass whipped back and forth between the crucible of melted living gold and the glass-covered box where the Bow of Destiny rested in pieces. A not-so-subtle hint.

  Remembering how my great grandmother heated each bit of metal again before fusing them together, I chose two pieces to introduce into the fire and carefully used a set of fireplace tongs to hold them in the flame until they glowed.

  The air thrummed with magic, a sensation that was by now so natural I noticed its rare absence almost as strongly as I felt its presence. Not until this moment had I experienced the two sides of my heritage working in harmony; living gold forged by a Balefire ancestor formed the five-pointed barrier inside which I placed the crucible alongside the relic created by my father’s divine hands.

  “I hope this is going to work.” If there was an incantation or a prayer I was supposed to offer, I had no idea what it might be, so I decided to trust my instincts. Balefire to Bow.

  Assuming the smelted contents of the crucible would act as a glue of sorts, I laid the bow in the center of the pentacle with the still-glowing broken pieces lined up in their correct positions.

  “Here we go.” The crucible weighed heavier in my hands than it should have given the tiny amount of melted ore pooled in the bottom. A hand on each handle, I strained to lift and tilt the container high enough to pour its contents without burning myself. I might be immune to Balefire, but molten metal would flay me to the bone.

  I was spent and sweating by the time the gold began to ooze, shimmering as it slithered into the break I’d chosen for this first attempt—the worst break, the one in the center of the hand grip—and then solidified. A bright flash of white light sparked the air, and the repaired section flared to cast bright spots across my vision for a moment before the bow shivered once, and the compass abruptly stopped pulling.

  Using the tongs again, I dropped the bow into a cauldron and wiped away the sweat from my brow as water hissed and sizzled around hot metal. I couldn’t tell you if this is how regular gold gets forged, but my magic and my grandmother’s expertise hadn’t let me down.

  When I pulled the fused pieces out, Salem crowded in to get a look.

  “It worked. You can’t even tell there was ever a crack there.” I ran a fingertip over the formerly broken spot. “But there are two more repairs to be made, which means I’ve got to make two more trips to the past. So what did it look like when I disappeared.”

  “You just sort of faded, like a ghost. It was one of the more bizarre things I’ve ever seen, and that’s saying something. I could see right through you, Lexi.”

  “Well, that’s disturbing. I’m glad it was just us. Can you imagine the freak-out if Kin or the godmothers got a load of that?”

  When the bow was safely ensconced in its box and the compass securely clasped back around my neck, we took a moment to study the ring.

  To look at it, you would never expect the item contained such power. The simple band of beaten silver with a bit of tarnished patina looked like one you could buy in any one of the gift shops dotting the coastal region and catering to tourists. Five tiny circles, pressed into the metal, marched around the rim.

  “That’s odd.” Salem followed me to the center of the room where I held the ring under the brightest beam of sunlight I could find. “I swear only one of those circles was filled in the last time I looked. And see how dull the metal is now?” I twisted and turned it to try and catch the light. “All the shine is gone.”

  Pulling the ring gently from my fingers, Salem gave it the once-over. “The two outer circles do look different.” Him repeating what I’d already said made me shake my head. Hey, I’m growing, I didn’t point out I’d mentioned that already. “Are you sure it wasn’t like that before?”

  “Almost positive. It’s as if it’s counting down, you know? Like when you mark off the days on a calendar.” The comment triggered another thought. “Oh, I bet it is. I bet it’s like a Genie’s lamp. You get just so many wishes and then, poof, it’s someone else’s turn.”

  “Common enough concept in magic,” Salem allowed.

  “If I’m right, “ and I knew I was, “that means I have three more visits to the past and only two more repairs.” Ever since my trip back to the awful night I was orphaned, I’d been imagining the possibilities. If there were any other way to repair the bow, I’d have had four more visits to the past at my disposal. Four more burning questions to which I could have gotten answers.

  But maybe the gods would smile on me for once—it sure seemed like they owed me a break—and I’d get to use the last opportunity for my own personal ends. “Should be a piece of cake.”

  Salem regarded me through slitted lids. “You know what happens when you get cocky...”

  “There’s a difference between cocky and confident, Salem. Though, now that you mention it, there is something that’s been bothering me. Two things, actually. The first is Serena and her motive for going after Carl and Kin at the gym.”

  “Revenge?” Still talking, we made our way back to the sofa.

  “Certainly played a part in it, she’s attempted to punish me for years over something I don’t even remember doing when we were kids. But this attack was more about fishing for information—hence the truth spell—but why go after Carl or Kin? What could she possibly have hoped to learn? They didn’t tell her anything because they didn’t know anything to tell her. So, what if there’s more to it and she tries again?”

  “Would she be stupid enough to target Kin a second time?” Sometimes Salem forgets he’s not in cat form and tries to crawl into my lap to have his ears scratched.

  “Oof...Salem! Why can’t we communicate when you’re small and furry? You’re squishing me.” His forlorn look had me switching positions so he could lay his head within easy reach of my hand and he all but purred when I used my nails on him. “Back to Serena. How good are your sleuthing skills? I thought you might be able to turn spy for me. Find out whatever you can. I don’t think her state of mind is entirely sane.”

  “That girl was bat crap crazy before Jett got banished. Actually, I may have a way to get some inside info, “ Salem mused while stroking his chin with the back of his hand, “but you’re going to owe me a metric ton of salmon in return for the self-respect hit I’ll have to take.”

  “And why is that?”

  “I’m going to have to cozy up to someone I can’t stand—Serena’s familiar, Morana. She’s always had a thing for me.”

  If I hadn’t thought Salem was serious about the ton of salmon, I would have doubled over in laughter at the thought of him rebuffing the advances of an amorous kitty. The idea raised a question I’d been thus far too chicken to ask.

  “And you don’t feel the same way; I take it?” I received a scathing glare in response. “Is there someone you are interested in, Salem?” If I sat any closer to the edge of the proverbial seat, I’d end up on the floor.

  I didn’t realize Salem was capable of blushing, but his ebony skin took on a decidedly pink tinge, and he refused to make eye contact when he spoke. “There was. But her ninth life ended some time ago.”

  Oh. I felt like I’d gone on a five-mile run and then stuck my stinky foot in my mouth. “I’m so sorry, Salem. I had no idea.”

  “It’s okay. I’m okay.” I could tell he wasn’t. “You know
this is my ninth and final life. If there is an afterlife for beings like me, maybe I’ll see her there.” Salem blinked and changed the subject. “What was the second thing?”

  “The second thing is related to the first, and I definitely need your help. Things have been pretty quiet around here lately, but once that bow is fixed, I’m willing to bet life will get messy again. From what little I’ve been able to glean, it’s likely there’s danger involved with being a Fate Weaver.”

  “You’re still worried about Kin, aren’t you?”

  I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration, “How can I not be? He nearly got killed just following me into Shadow Hold. And now with Jett gone and the faeries hanging around all the time, I’m afraid he’s developing a false sense of security. I can’t always be there to pull him off the ledge, so I’m wondering what you can tell me about protection spells. Something I can use to keep him safe from magical harm.”

  “I’m thrilled you want to continue your training, but protection spells aren’t exactly cut-and-dried. They’re extremely complicated and require significant energy expenditure. And even then they’re only a one-shot deal.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Protection spells only act as a deterrent—kind of like a sped up version of the power of three, where the karma whammy comes swiftly, and hopefully gives the victim a chance to get away. Not only that, they border on affecting another’s free will. It’s a gray area, and if you’re not careful, it’s extremely easy to step into the black.”

  “You don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “Protection goes hand in hand with healing, which is, of course, useful in a pinch. Both are elemental in nature since you’re altering the state of molecules to, for instance, heal a wound or create a barrier. And before you ask, barriers and shields produced in self-defense don’t count in terms of karmic cost.”

  I raised an eyebrow, “So, it’s a line even if Kin wants my protection?”