That made both men stop and stare at each other for a long moment on the sidewalk outside. Tal spoke first, but it was pretty obvious Jason was thinking the same thing. “That’s not possible. It must be coincidence.”
She nodded and stepped past them just to get moving again. Jason corrected her direction by turning her shoulders with firm guidance. “I would have thought that, too, at first. But this particular person happens to be an heir to a major hotel in the city—except the hotel owner didn’t know he
had
an heir until David showed up. And David Pierce is the only client of our firm who has
never
been inside our offices. The partners always go to visit him … wherever he might be at the time. I’d never really thought much about it and had just
presumed
they went to see him at the hotel, but now I’m wondering. According to Tom Harris, one of the original partners in our firm, Myron Sanders had a lot of
witchy
clients who were shoestring relatives. Apparently, there were always problems when they came in—with the plumbing, furnace, and with potted plants.”
“Sanders,” Jason mused, turning his head back slightly from where he’d walked past Mila. “Could be descendants of the house of Saunders mage clan from down near Brighton, I suppose.”
Tal shook his head as they followed Jason to an old iron gate near what looked to be a stone dumpster—or maybe it was an incinerator. “I suppose. There were probably a few from that clan who didn’t come down after the joining decree.”
“But to what end? Did he somehow get out and later get captured again? Wouldn’t there have been news reports, or at least
rumors?
” Jason stopped in front of what looked like a padlocked door through a high stone fence. He started forward again, but then got an impish look on his face before waving his hand in invitation to Tal. “Care to go first?”
Tal shrugged and stepped past her, then walked forward with authority … smack into the iron gate with a thud that made her wince and fight not to laugh.
“Oops,” Jason said lightly before winking at her. “But you’ve no alchemist blood in you, have ya, mate?”
Talos gave the other man a sarcastic grimace while rubbing his nose lightly. “Funny.”
Jason bit his lower lip in an impressive struggle not to laugh out loud and Mila found herself fighting not to giggle. “Yeah, actually it was.” He held out his hand and wiggled his fingers. “C’mon then, lad. Hold me hand like a good boy so we can go through.”
He growled low and glared, making Mila realize he’d had his pride bruised. “Oh, c’mon Tal, he’s just teasing you a little.” She reached out and grabbed his hand and then put her other one in Jason’s waiting one. She was starting to like Jason despite her better judgment. He reminded her a lot of Candy’s brother Tim when they were young—always the prankster. Well, she’d lived through that, and had managed a few in return, so she could do it again.
Jason grinned and winked at her again and then looked at Tal with raised brows. “Oh, I
like
this one, Tal. She’s got spirit.” As he popped his fingers outward and the gate began to glow an eerie brownish-black, he looked down at her once more. “Sure you’re not Irish, lass?”
She shook her head and squeezed his hand lightly. “Ukrainian. We’re where the Irish
learned
it.” The resulting laugh from both men was lost in the roar of sound as they stepped through the gate. She’d noticed it when she went through the gate in the library, and wondered what made it. Was it wind rushing by from moving incredibly fast to span the distance? Or could it be that there was something between here and there, some magical location that they stepped
through?
She’d asked Tal the previous night, and he’d confessed having never thought much about it.
They emerged at the edge of what had once been a park. But the grass was unkempt and had gone to seed, the carefully pebbled paths overgrown and littered with animal droppings. It made her realize she hadn’t seen many animals down here. Just a few raccoons and what had looked like hairless hamsters. No cats, no dogs … not even birds. It contributed to the eerie sense of this place, and made her wonder what it had looked like when it was normal.
Whether the wondering caused it, or she just finally noticed it through her mulling, she heard the sound. Her head raised and turned to the choir of voices that weren’t voices at all. It was similar to the sound the
duszat
had made on the mantel, but this was deeper, richer—like comparing a first-grade chorus to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Her heart sped up as the sound filled her. She had to get closer.
She tightened her hands on the others and moved forward quickly, pulling them along. “C’mon. I need to go see what’s making the sound.”
But apparently Tal and Jason couldn’t hear it because they just stared at her quizzically. Tal shrugged and looked around. “What sound?”
Mila just shook her head and pulled her hands free of their palms, knowing she’d never be able to describe it. “Never mind. But I know where the Tree is.”
It wasn’t until she felt the hood fly from her head that she realized she was running … racing toward the Tree with the same enthusiasm as she used to dash for the playground. Joyous, eager, and with the firm knowledge the effort would be worth it.
It wasn’t what she expected—even though she hadn’t realized she
had
an expectation. The Tree of Life was massive, the trunk as big around as a sequoia, yet with branches far too short and frail for its size. The leaves were in places broad and wide as an elephant’s ear, and in other places as small and delicate as a rosebush.
I don’t even know what species this is. And if this is a slave to the real Tree, does the parent look the same?
She couldn’t even imagine where she might find it, since she’d never seen anything like it in a tree species book.
Arrangements of flowers, now-rotting fruit, and other items were heaped around the Tree’s base, offerings from people who had fled when their prayers weren’t answered, and tromped on and scavenged by those who remained. Jason and Tal reached her as she stood and stared at it while catching her breath. Both of them let out whooshes of air that said how fast they’d been running. “See what you mean ’bout needing a shorter cloak, lass,” Jason said between gasps. “Didn’t imagine those little legs could move that fast.”
“I do a lot of walking,” she replied absentmindedly, before reaching out one hand toward the Tree. She could feel the life here, sense it the same way as a wall in the darkness. She closed her eyes to allow her inner eye to see more clearly. They were right that the Tree was dying. She could see it in the pale blue bands where leaves had withered and wounds gaped in rotting bark. “It’s not dead yet, though. It can be saved.” She muttered the words, not taking her gaze from it as she searched for what Viktor had claimed was here—eggs in the branches that she needed to replace. She wasn’t even positive she’d spoken out loud until she heard Jason’s pleased response.
“Brilliant. Absolutely bleedin’ brilliant. Go on, then. Tell us what needs doin’.”
She stepped forward, hearing the crunch of leaves and wilted flowers underfoot, smelling the sickly sweet scent of rotten fruit. Her inner eye searched each branch in turn, looking for the egg. She had to find one, or she couldn’t even hope to start. The manuscript Baba had left had only revealed the recipe for the dyes and steps to create a
duszat
, but without any indication of what
designs
to put on the eggs. Perhaps that was knowledge she was supposed to already have … but she didn’t. If she could just find one of these, somehow see what they looked like through bark and wood, she could reproduce them.
Wait. There!
She saw a flash of a rune as she reached the nearest limb and passed her fingers over the rough bark. Yes, a double straight line that cut across the pattern of growth rings. “The ribbon of eternity.” But there was a jagged breaking of the image, where a secondary branch had sprouted out. She tried to turn it in her mind, moved around the branch, trying to see what else was on the egg.
“Blimey, Tal. Would you look at that?” Her ears heard Jason speak, his tone reverent, but she couldn’t be distracted from her task enough to turn to whatever he saw. She could only hope they would keep her safe from any problems until she was done. She dropped to her knees under the branch, shuffling through the scattered gifts until she touched ground. She followed the cracked edges of the fragment with her mind and fingers.
Dots inside circles, over a basketweave. But what’s the main theme?
She extended her focus, reaching further around the branch, realizing the egg must have broken and moved long ago. Finally she found it near the trunk where it was put so long ago … the mostly whole shell. The runes glowed bright in her head, so close she could nearly touch them.
A sun pattern with trees and crude stag outlines. Heat, warmth, and life. This must be the mage guild’s limb
. It was a complicated pattern but elegantly done. The artist who’d made this egg was obviously extremely skilled. She only wished she could see the
actual
egg to know what colors they’d used. But she’d have to rely on the manuscript and hope for the best.
But wait! There was one tiny piece that had worked out of the branch over the years. It was just at the edge of the bark. She reached forward to yank it out with her fingernails, being careful not to break it. But when she tugged, the fragment pulled back. A tingling flowed over her fingers, strong enough to pull a gasp from her throat.
“Craters! Help me get her out of there, Jason!” She heard Tal’s panicked voice and her eyes shot open. What she saw made her gasp and fight not to scream. Her hand was deep inside a crack in the branch, her fingertips still clutching the egg fragment. But the Tree had reacted and had closed bark over her hand. Even as she watched, rough scales were crawling up her arm toward her shoulder, as though the Tree was trying to absorb her inside it.
Tal grabbed her around the waist while Jason got her feet and they both began to pull her away. But the Sacred Tree wasn’t to be denied that easily, for the pressure on her hand increased, tugging her in. She tried to release the egg fragment, in case this was some sort of self-defense spell the original Parask artist had put in place. She tried the counterspell Baba had taught her.
“Avatay!”
and heard both Jason and Tal spout words that had no meaning to her.
“Arasht!”
from Tal, and
“Meeyelk mesha!”
from Jason. Heat flowed over her with each casting, and at last the combination of them pulling and casting, along with her frantically yanking her arm in circles cracked the bark. They all flew backward to land in a smelly pile of rotten squash, breathing hard and fast.
Her arm was still mostly covered by bark, and she peeled it off with her other hand, revealing skin that was pink and shiny, like a healing scar.
Tal helped her get the rest of the wood stripped from her fingers, and she realized she still had the bit of shell between her fingers. She dropped it into her other hand to see her prize. Even after all the years, the colors were still brilliant. Lacquered black, ruby red, and yellow bright as the sun were cut across with lines of white. She nodded her head, staring at the patterns, her mind already on the task of re-creating it. But Tal’s flat, hollow voice dragged her back to the present.
“So it’s true then.” He was staring at the bit of eggshell in her hand, his face a mask of conflicting emotions. She didn’t know what to say … how to make better something so devastating as the end of his whole belief system.
She opened her mouth to say something—anything to get that pained look off his face when a faint voice came from the distance. “Help me! Oh someone please help me with her!”
It was obvious that both Tal and Jason were trained police officers, because their entire demeanor changed into alert professionals. She followed their gaze to a pair of women—one fair skinned, one dark, in long red cloaks, stumbling toward them. The pale, elderly woman was supporting the other, who was having a hard time keeping her feet. She was obviously ill, and Mila closed her eyes once more to read their auras. It wasn’t just what she saw that panicked her, but the worried voices of the men on either side of her that revealed their identities.
Jason’s voice came first as she watched his energy aura shift in her mind’s eye. Patterns swirled and flowed as he raced forward to catch the dark woman as she collapsed. Her robe opened as he turned her over, revealing the dark red tendrils of
Tin Czerwona
crawling over her body. “Mum?”
Then came Tal’s voice, also filled with dread. “Sybil? Mom, what’s wrong? What are you doing here?”
S
he heard the jumble of voices as the men tried to find out what was happening from their mothers. But she wasn’t listening. Instead, she was watching the tendrils carefully, with a sort of fascination. The sickness was looking for a place to expand, someone else to infect. But it couldn’t attach to the others—she watched as tendrils reached for them, only to shrink back abruptly.
Then it occurred to her … they were
mages
. Tal had said he lost his parents and was sent to a foster family—also mages. Jason’s mother was earth clan, but he had inherited his
father’s
talent. “It makes perfect sense.”
Tal must have been waiting for a reaction from her because he pounced on her words. “What does?”
“Of course he wouldn’t create a virus he could
catch
. You’re all immune.” But as she watched the squirming threads of the sickness grow stronger, even as Jason’s alchemist mother got weaker, she knew she had to do something. She opened her eyes and managed to get to her feet among the smelly vegetables and brushed off the sticky seeds as best she could.
But this cloak is never going to be the same, and I need a shower.
Jason was helping his mother rise to a sitting position. But she couldn’t hold it and fell backward. In that brief movement, panic flashed in Mila’s mind. She saw a wisp of a tendril … seeping
down
, into the ground.
Magic. It’s a magical illness. But can a Tree catch a virus?
“We have to get her out of here!
Now!
” She hadn’t realized she’d yelled as her eyes opened, but everyone silenced and turned with wide eyes. Mila didn’t want to panic them, but something told her if they stayed, the slave Tree was going to catch
Tin Czerwona
and send it straight to the Tree of Life. “Somewhere, anywhere. But we need to get this woman
away
from the Tree.”
“We can’t move Mum. She’s horribly ill. We need to find a healer to come to her.” Jason looked at Mila as though she was insane and his voice reflected his anger and worry.
But Tal took in the whole scene before turning his face back to her and rumbling a question. “What’s the problem?”
“She
is
sick, Tal—with the same thing as Suzanne. And she’s about to infect the
Tree.
We need to get her
away.
” She stared at him strongly, willing him to understand. She tried to push the words into his head.
Please figure this out so I don’t have to say it
,
Tal. It’s
Tin Czerwona,
and it’s contagious. C’mon, you’re smart enough.
Whether he heard her, or figured it out on his own, she watched as confusion turned to panic, and then to action. He rose to his feet, away from his mother and picked up the other woman in his arms. “No time for talking, Jason. We need to get back to the shop. Mila, do you need to stay here to fix … anything?”
She closed her eyes again and stared at the ground. Thankfully, as soon as Tal had picked the woman up, the tendril had broken off. She nearly slapped her forehead.
Duh. This was the mage branch, so likely the roots were filled with fire magic.
She shook her head. “No, our luck is holding. But we need to hurry, and keep away from other people on the way back.” Jason started to open his mouth, reaching to take his mother from Tal’s arms, but she held up a hand. “Please, Jason. Once we get back to the store, I’ll explain everything. I know you don’t have any reason to trust
me
, but please try to trust Tal for a few more minutes. I swear it’s important.”
Tal nodded once at his former friend but didn’t wait for a reply. He took off at a fast walk, carrying the heavyset woman with obvious effort. But then he muttered a word and she felt a blast of warm air swirl around her ankles as she followed. A shimmering appeared around him and she could see his shoulders relax under the cloak. It took a moment to put it in place but she smiled when she did.
Well isn’t
that
a nifty trick? Hot air rises, so she’s not as heavy.
Jason’s voice came from behind her. “Can I give you a lift there, ladies? I dunno what Tal’s all about, but it seems important. I’ve not much magic left in me focus, but enough for this. Let’s have us a little boost, eh?”
She felt herself rising from the ground and struggled to keep her balance, twisting and turning as she quickly moved forward a foot or more above the bricks. “Whoa whoa whoa—”
A light hand touched her shoulder and the woman chuckled in a warm British alto. “You’re not used to riding the currents then, are you, dearie? It’s jolly good fun.”
Jason leaned over to whisper in her ear. “That’s why there are no cars down here. Never used to be a need.”
Tal’s foster mother must have heard. Her face was filled with open amazement. “Cars? You mean autos? Are you from the overworld, then?”
“This is Mila, Sybil. She’s a friend of Tal’s.” He looked at Sybil with raised brows then hooked a thumb toward her. “This lass wandered through that gate you’re not supposed to know about near Mum and Da’s flat … by
herself.
”
Sybil likewise raised her brows, and looked at her with a new expression, but Mila couldn’t quite tell whether she was surprised, impressed, or disapproving. Her own mother used to give her that sort of look when she would finally reveal something outrageous she’d done, long after the fact.
By the time they got back to the butcher shop, Jason’s mother, who Mila learned was named Dareen, was unconscious and moaning lightly. She didn’t even have to use her inner eye to see that the virus had spread. Tal placed the woman on the couch at the edge of the tiny kitchen, backed away carefully, and turned to look at Mila. “Can you help her?”
She shook her head and shrugged. “I honestly don’t know.” She looked out the window into the darkness of the cavern and threw up her hands. “No sun, no moon—which are who I call on for strength and purpose. And, it kicked my butt last time. I passed out before Suzanne was healed. This is even further along. Of course I’ll
try
. Like Baba said … we don’t refuse to heal just because the way is difficult.”
Jason wasn’t even listening. He’d knelt down by his mother’s side and was holding her hand firmly while trying to revive her by calling to her softly. Tal nodded and touched her shoulder with a look of gratitude.
But she was surprised at how Sybil reacted to what she said. Her expression darkened, making her eyes glitter angrily. The flames that decorated her robe leapt higher and crackled, as though tied to her mood.
It wasn’t in Mila’s nature to just ignore a glare like that, so she turned fully toward her and cocked her head. She tried hard not to put any particular emotion into her voice. “Is something wrong?”
Sybil’s features twisted into a look of loathing and barely contained rage. She clenched fists until her knuckles were stretched white. “It’s no wonder you’ve never ridden the currents … no wonder Dareen’s fallen ill.” Mila reared back, struggling to figure out what she was talking about, but in the next moment it was made clear. Sybil turned all that quickly rising emotion on Tal, who regarded his foster mother with an expression of surprise and confusion. “How
dare
you bring a filthy
Parask
into our midst! We banished that disease-ridden guild to the overworld for just this reason, Talos.” Holding out a shaking finger, Sybil pointed at her and spat words with a viciousness Mila had only previously heard in news footage of race riots. “Begone, enemy of Demeter … carrier of the red death …
whore of the dark mage!
I call on thee, blessed Demeter—” She paused and then her lips trembled for a moment, the final words finally rumbling from her chest to hang in the air with deadly intent. “Strike down this befouler of the craft!”
“
M
other!
No!
” Tal’s hand shot out as though warding off a blow and he pulled Mila behind him frantically with his other hand in a vain attempt to shield her from the curse. But there was no stopping it, no counterspell in existence that could avert the weighing of the Tree’s judgment against another guilder.
He’d never seen his foster mother like this. Her eyes were glittering with fevered intensity and a cruel smile was painted on her lips as the air grew heavy and still. He felt his heart pound with fear and a knot formed in his stomach that made him want to vomit. He clutched Mila’s arm tightly as he waited to see what would happen.
It certainly wasn’t what he expected. Mila yanked away from his grasp and came around from behind him, walking through the ozone-scented air as though it was nothing.
“Excuse me?!”
she yelled right at Sybil. “Who the hell are
you
to call me a befouler? I haven’t
befouled
anything and I’m sure as hell not Vegre’s
whore.
” Mila stormed forward, not even understanding enough to be afraid.
I’ll wager she doesn’t even realize a curse has been laid
. She landed inches away from his foster mother with clenched fists, so close that their noses were almost touching. “Where do you get off calling me a
whore?
You don’t know me, bitch … don’t know a thing about me or my family.” She turned one shoulder enough to point at Dareen’s still form, but remained inches from Sybil’s shocked face. Tal couldn’t tell whether she was shocked that Mila was still upright, or that she dared to dispute her claims. “It’s a damn good thing it’s not
you
lying there, lady, because I’m not sure I’m a good enough person not to let you just suffer.”
Mila shook her head before turning her back on them all to walk over and take Jason’s place at Dareen’s bedside. Jason had stood and backed away after the curse was laid. He was in the room’s farthest corner, looking on the scene with mingled fear and confusion. No doubt he was also watching to see where the curse would land, and what effect it would have.
But Mila wasn’t done yet, and Tal watched her in a sort of stunned admiration. She touched Dareen’s forehead and shook her head once more before muttering to herself. “Geez, Viktor was right about you guys. No
wonder
nobody has wanted to fix the Trees for you.”
Silence descended on the room as Mila pried open Dareen’s lids to look into her pupils. She winced at whatever she saw and then closed her eyes. Her head and hands moved in unison, apparently
seeing
the illness with her other sight. It took a moment for Tal to realize the air had cleared. For the first time he’d seen, a befouler curse had dissolved without striking a target. Either the Tree wasn’t able to raise enough power to punish, or it judged them all to be without fault.
Sybil apparently realized it at the same moment and opened her mouth. But he held up a warning hand and let out a growl. “Enough, Mother. It’s the
Sacred Tree
who has judged here and your new goddess Demeter obviously has no power to override it. Mila is no befouler, so just
stop
this.”
His words made her flinch and retreat into her robe, as though he’d struck her. He let out a frustrated breath. “Where did these strange new beliefs come from, Mother? When did you turn your back on the Tree’s good ways?” He pointed at Mila, who was doing her best to ignore them all. “Mila hasn’t harmed you … hasn’t harmed
anyone.
Even the Tree knows she’s good and kind and incredibly intelligent—and until the lot of us came into her world, had no idea she was even a guilder. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Sybil had gotten her composure back while he spoke and he suddenly realized that the calm, rational woman who’d raised him had disappeared. She regarded him with what appeared to be sadness, but was merely a mask over the top of her delusion. “Yes. Of course I understand, son. She’s
bewitched
you with the conjurer’s soul-corrupting magic. He told us this might happen when the end of the days of the Tree came near. But once Demeter is returned to her throne over the guilds, She will cleanse the land of their kind. I can only pray that you’ll be safe and will be returned to me when the era of fire begins.”
Mila threw up her hands abruptly enough that he and Jason both flinched. “Oh for God’s sake! This is getting ridiculous. I’m sorry, but you either need to get your whacked-out mom the hell out of here, Tal, or tell
me
to go. ’Cause I’m not going to stay and try to heal Dareen in the same room as her—she’s ruining my concentration. And the
Tin Czerwona
is getting worse by the second, so pick fast. She won’t last much longer.”
Tal looked between the two women. He’d known Sybil most of his life … had believed everything she’d taught him about truth and goodness. So why was he favoring Mila’s comments and believing that his mother was
whacked out? Am I bewitched?