Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus Allies Page 8

  They’d only been moving for a few seconds, barely enough time to reach the edge of Madam Barrington’s yard—in fact, they were headed on a collision course straight for her fence—when the world around them began to fade. Before Lily had a chance to blink or even scream, they’d run straight through the now-almost-invisible fence and out onto the street. But the street, too, was fading, as were the houses and trees around them.

  Though she longed to gaze about at the strange phenomenon happening before her very eyes, she barely had enough energy to keep moving. She was no runner, especially not when carrying a certain fluffy monstrosity that added considerably to her load. As she huffed and puffed, she could faintly see the low, gray shape in the twilight ahead of Sebastian that shuffled along at an alarming pace despite its stubby legs. Grimmold used his long arms like a gorilla to launch himself forward with each step, making it a challenge for the humans to keep up.

  The journey devolved into one long, dimly lit nightmare. The air had grown cold and silent as a winter’s night—Sebastian’s jacket now made sense—but Lily was too out of breath and focused on running to care. She had no idea how Madam Barrington was keeping up, but apparently the older woman was more fit than she let on. Her strong, cool grip never faltered. In the mad rush, Lily was barely aware of her surroundings, only catching sight of dim shadows and shapes out of the corners of her eyes. They seemed to be moving through a dark place filled with the ethereal possibility of both the human and fae realms. She saw a gigantic, shining tree smack dab in the middle of the towering shadow of an office building. The hazy shapes of cars and people intertwined with tall grass, piles of boulders, and an occasional deer. All around them lights sparkled in the air, zipping this way and that.

  Lily had no time to dwell on the ethereal beauty around her, because her right hand, despite Sebastian’s firm grip, was slipping. It was so covered in sweat and she was so out of breath, she didn’t know how much longer she could hold on. She tried to shout, to beg Sebastian to slow down, but there wasn’t enough breath in her lungs for more than a tiny squeak. She wondered desperately what would happen if she lost her grip. Would she be lost forever in this twilight world?

  Just when she thought she could hold on no longer, Sebastian slowed his pace and the shapes around them began to solidify. The air grew warmer and the fairy lights faded, but for some odd reason the trees did not. They became more and more real, turning into giants towering above, their crooked fingers crisscrossing the sky. Sounds returned, too, filling the eerie silence with the rustle of leaves and the slapping thump of feet on pavement.

  Sebastian finally stopped, and Lily stumbled forward to lean desperately on his shoulder and pant, her brain too oxygen-deprived to worry about propriety. She was dimly aware of Madam Barrington’s loosened grip, and of Sir Kipling poking his head cautiously out of his woolen sling. But all she cared about was how nice it felt to rest against something solid and warm.

  “Well, that was a lovely jaunt,” came Madam Barrington’s voice behind them. Lily turned her head just enough to see her mentor brushing off her skirts in a businesslike manner. Though the older woman’s forehead glistened in the light of a nearby streetlamp and her breath was uneven, she maintained a dignified grace that Lily had completely abandoned in her winded state. Feeling her mentor’s eyes on her, Lily finally straightened with a suppressed groan and took in her surroundings.

  She was quite surprised to see the shapes of stately, historic buildings rising on all sides, interspersed by the gigantic trees she’d noticed earlier. Judging by the Spanish moss dripping from every branch like slate-green hair, these were probably southern live oaks. Turning to look behind them, she noticed a well-tended grassy square surrounded by trees and adorned with various monuments and historical markers. While she’d never visited here herself, the scenery made it pretty obvious where Grimmold had taken them: to the historic downtown district of Savannah, Georgia, the Garden City. She wished they’d come to the city at a less urgent time. Savannah was legendary for its beauty, history, and culture. She’d have liked to look around. Maybe some day when she wasn’t busy saving the world.

  Noticing movement on the sidewalk, Lily brought her mind back to the task at hand. Their guide was scuttling furtively around the edge of a three-story, tan-colored townhouse on the street corner. He was obviously nervous about being out in the open, but the streets were empty. Lily looked around, wondering what time it was. With a jolt of surprise, she noticed the sky was no longer star-filled but grey with the approaching dawn. How long had they spent traveling? It had felt like forever, but it couldn’t have been more than ten or fifteen minutes, not with her legs. How could it be dawn already?

  Just then her arm jerked forward and she realized Sebastian still had her hand in a death grip and was towing her toward Grimmold and the tan house. Though their journey through twilight had ended, Sebastian’s words—Don’t. Let. Go—still echoed through her mind, and she felt a strange reluctance to let them fade. So, instead of protesting, she tightened her grip and trotted to catch up.

  “What’s he doing?” Lily whispered, once she’d caught her breath.

  “Trying to find the scent, I assume.” Sebastian’s brow was creased in concentration, but then he did a double take. “Wait a minute, you can see him?” He looked back at the mold fae, as if checking something. “Huh…you sure you can see him? Butt-ugly face, warty skin and all?”

  Lily nodded.

  “Well, I’ll be.” Sebastian scratched his head as Grimmold crept through some bushes by the side of the house, heading toward the vine-covered fence that surrounded its tiny back yard.

  “What?” Lily hissed.

  “Well, unless you’re a fae, or you’re looking through one of these”—he tapped the triangular seeing-stone on a leather cord around his neck—“you shouldn’t be able to see him right now. He’s using fae glamour to stay out of sight, seeing as how we’re in the middle of a city.”

  “But you can see him,” Lily pointed out, noticing as she did that Madam Barrington was examining the front of the house, a strange look on her face.

  Sebastian shrugged. “I’m different.” When he didn’t elaborate, Lily cleared her throat and elbowed him firmly in the ribs.

  “Fine, fine,” he grumbled, rubbing the spot with his right hand. His left still held Lily’s, as if they were in a silent contest to see who would let go first. Lily’s heart fluttered at the idea—like a silly schoolgirl, she thought in consternation—but still, she held on. “A certain, erm, individual, thought that if I was going to be hanging around the fae, I deserved to know what they really looked like.”

  Lily pursed her lips. Getting information out of Sebastian was like prying candy from the fist of a toddler. “And who was this individual?”

  He didn’t reply because at that moment Grimmold returned. The squat creature shuffled up and attempted to hide behind Sebastian’s boot, clutching his pant leg and eyeing the empty street suspiciously. Sebastian crouched down, prying the nervous fae from his leg one-handed and keeping a firm grip on one warty arm as he questioned him.

  “Is this it?”

  “Grimmold want pizza.”

  “And you’ll get it, once we find the wizard. Is this it?”

  “Smell right.”

  “You mean it smells like the letter?”

  The grimy fae nodded, a scowl of impatience making his already loose, wrinkled skin droop over his eyes in a comical fashion.

  “But how do we know the wizard is here?” Sebastian insisted.

  “Smell right.”

  “Can you smell the wizard?”

  The mold fae glared at him. “Grimmold want pizza.”

  “And thus we return to the crux of the matter,” Sebastian sighed.

  “Are you two inseparable, or might I borrow my student for a moment, Mr. Blackwell?” A dry voice came from behind them, and Lily jumped, turning. At the sight of Madam Barrington’s severe stare, she dropped Sebastian’s hand like a hot
coal.

  Sebastian was just opening his mouth to retort when his phone rang. The shrill beep split the quiet dawn air, and he scrambled to answer it, letting go of the truculent fae and looking around almost as nervously as Grimmold had. On the way to putting it to his ear, he glanced at the caller ID and cursed under his breath. Shooting Grimmold a warning look, he hissed, “If you ever want another scrap of pizza in your life, you’d better stay put.”

  Grimmold stuck out his tongue in response but nonetheless retreated to the bushes and plopped down in the dirt, long arms crossed over his ugly chest.

  “This had better be good,” Sebastian growled into the phone, now standing to his full height and turning his back on Lily and Madam Barrington.

  Lily couldn’t make out the reply, but it didn’t sound happy.

  Sebastian backtracked, his shoulders hunching and his voice lowering as if to exclude his onlookers from the conversation. “Okay, okay. Sorry. You’re right, you deserve a medal. But I’m kind of busy at the moment. Can you get to the point?…Oh, really?…Hmm…That’s good news. I don’t suppose you could, uh, do this one solo?”

  He suddenly held the phone away from his ear, wincing at the yells coming from the other end. “Okay, okay, calm down. I’ll get there as fast as I can,” he said, then hung up, cutting off the angry reply. “Okay, people,” he said, turning, “change of plans.” He deflated slightly at the looks on both his female companions’ faces.

  “Don’t you even think about running off,” Lily warned him, arms crossed as her stomach clenched in worry.

  “Look, we’re here,” he protested, gesturing at the tan house. “Grimmold says the scent leads to this house.”

  “But he wouldn’t answer when you asked if he smelled the wizard himself. Sounds to me like he’s trying to trick us.”

  “No, no, it’s nothing like that. Formal agreements are sacred to the fae. You can be sure the letter came from here, no doubt about it. As for Allen, we know he’s not outside the house, or else Grimmold would smell him. So he has to be inside, right?” He looked to the bush for confirmation, and the grumpy fae underneath it grunted in agreement.

  “There you go. He’s here somewhere, so you don’t need me any more.”

  “What do you mean we don’t need you any more?” Lily began, voice rising in alarm. At a hush from both Sebastian and Madam Barrington, she lowered her tone and stepped closer, hands on hips. “You aren’t here to twiddle your fingers and then disappear. You’re part of…well, part of our team. We need you. Here. I—I need you.” She finally said, the last words a bare whisper as she fixed her eyes on his collar, too chicken to look up.

  A moment of stunned silence greeted her pronouncement, and then Sebastian cleared his throat. “I…I want to be here, really, I do. But remember how I said Tina and I were working on—”

  “That witch again!” Lily exclaimed, now glaring readily up into Sebastian’s face as she took a furious step backward.

  “It’s not like that,” he hissed, moving close once more. She crossed her arms but stayed put. “I’m serious, we’re working on something, something to take down John Faust in case the…other stuff doesn’t work. Well, more like to make the other stuff unnecessary. Supreme art of war and all that.” He gave her a weak smile. “I’ve got to go take care of this, or the chance will be gone. I promise I’ll come back as soon as I can. It’s not like you don’t have my number, right?”

  Lily was furious at him and had no idea why. Everything he said made sense, and it wasn’t as if they really did need him. And yet, she didn’t want him to leave.

  She felt a light hand on her shoulder as Madam Barrington joined them. “Go, nephew. Take care of your business, and be quick about it. But expect to give a full explanation when you return. After all, are we not working toward a common goal? There is no call for secrets among allies.”

  Sebastian nodded mutely and turned toward Grimmold. “You want pizza? Take me back to the house, it’s all there.”

  The fae grumbled but got up and started off anyway, casting a nervous look over his shoulder at Sir Kipling as he did. The cat had remained still and quiet throughout, but nonetheless followed the odd creature with his large yellow eyes.

  Waving an apologetic goodbye, Sebastian trotted off after the fae, and both faded into the grey dawn, disappearing like mist in the shadows.

  Madam Barrington wasted no time. She made a beeline for the ivy-covered gate that opened into the house’s tiny backyard.

  Now that Grimmold was gone, Sir Kipling started squirming, attempting to extricate himself from the folds of the shawl. “Hold still,” Lily scolded as she reached into the woolen cocoon and lifted him out. As soon as his paws touched the ground, he was off like a dart, twining between Madam Barrington’s legs and slipping inside the gate as it was opened. Apparently Sir Kipling and Sebastian had more in common than she thought: neither of them wanted to stick around. Expression downcast, she trudged after her mentor’s disappearing form.

  She caught up with Madam Barrington on the back steps of the house as the older wizard examined the lintel and doorpost. Seeing her approach, her mentor explained in a quiet voice. “This may very well be the origin of Allen’s letter, but I can not detect a single sign of habitation or magic within. It is as if the entire house is devoid of life.”

  “So you think he’s not here?”

  “I did not say that,” Madam Barrington continued, stepping back to examine the second-story windows. “While it certainly appears to be abandoned, I suspect it does so at the command of its owner. Remember, Lily, things are rarely as they seem, especially when it comes to magic.”

  “Of course.” Lily nodded. “Do you think he’s watching us?”

  “Most probably.”

  “So why doesn’t he open the door?”

  “I suspect he does not want to be disturbed,” Madam Barrington commented in a dry tone, brow furrowed as she inspected the doormat.

  Lily didn’t blame him. Backing down the steps, she stared up at the house while Madam Barrington went to check for other entrances. In the growing light of dawn, its seamless, tan walls took on an amber hue. The house was devoid of excessive adornment, though it did have a nice sort of covered porch and garden between it and the next house. It would have looked decidedly plain except for the finely carved shutters and lintels of its sparse windows. While all the shutters were open, curtains inside each window were firmly shut, providing no insight into the depths within. All in all, it seemed to have little to recommend it in comparison to the fancier historic buildings around it. Of course, if this was Allen LeFay’s home, then it had probably been selected precisely because of its plainness.

  She was just wondering where Madam Barrington had gotten to when her mentor reappeared, having made a full circle of the house. Lily opened her mouth to ask what they were going to do next when there came a clicking at the back door. To her complete astonishment, it opened a crack to reveal the thin, pale face of a man in a tartan dressing gown and fuzzy house slippers. His sandy hair stuck up in all directions while a bristling mustache adorned his upper lip like a bad-tempered caterpillar. Firmly attached to his left ankle was none other than Sir Kipling. The triumphant feline had the most obscenely smug smirk on his face. As soon as he spotted Lily he meowed a “look what I found” at her.

  “This—this cat. Is it yours?” The man asked, his words sharp and his expression extremely put out.

  Lily, while horrified at her cat’s lack of decorum, fought down a giggle of mirth. “He is, sir. I mean, yes, sir. Please forgive me—I do apologize—” She started forward to peel her errant feline off the poor man’s ankle, but he held up a hand.

  “I would prefer you stay. That is, right where you are. Just call it—call the cursed thing off.”

  “Is that any way to greet your niece, Allen?” Madam Barrington, previously out of the man’s line of sight, now came to stand by her student. She gave Allen the same look of disapproval she reserved for naughty chil
dren. And Sebastian.

  Allen froze and his eyes widened in shock, staring at them dumbly for several long moments. Then he heaved a very deep, very long sigh. “Oh, bother.”

  “Indeed.” Madam Barrington’s voice couldn’t have been dryer if she’d been standing in the Sahara Desert. “Are you going to invite us in, or shall I explain the situation on your doorstep?”

  “No, no. Come in. Quickly.” He cracked the door a bit wider, motioning sharply as he looked back and forth to ensure the street was still empty. They hurried inside, Sir Kipling relinquishing his grip on Allen’s ankle to follow Lily as she passed.

  Lily felt the familiar whisper touch of wards as she crossed the threshold, but hardly even noticed it next to the sudden, blinding presence of magic all around her. It wasn’t that the magic was literally overwhelming the light receptors in her eyes. It was that the sheer surprise of so much magic in one place, magic that was completely invisible from the outside, was startling. She marveled at the range and complexity of the spells as one thing after another caught her eye: a ticking clock with no moving parts, its hands suspended in midair; a hall mirror that, instead of showing their faces, showed their backs; being able to see clearly out of every window, despite their drawn curtains; and, most curious, a flock of mechanical hands that circled lazily about the ceiling, looking for all the world like glittering vultures. They appeared to be some sort of construct, perhaps similar to her father’s raven.

  How her uncle managed to keep all this a secret, smack dab in the middle of a popular tourist town, was beyond her. One thing was for sure: no mundane would ever be allowed to set foot over this threshold, not with all these disembodied hands floating about.

  Allen led them along the hall toward the front of the house. The rich mahogany of the polished wood floors complemented the antique cream wallpaper nicely, both colors accented by elegant artwork in gilt frames. Light globes above their heads softly brightened and faded as they passed, enchanted to automatically detect their presence. Lily wondered if their detection parameters were based on movement, body heat, or something else entirely. She didn’t dwell on it long, however, being much more interested in the rooms they passed: a cluttered library followed by a spotless kitchen. Lily wondered at the contrast. Most doors were closed, however, perhaps indicating unused rooms.