Shadows, Maps, and Other Ancient Magic (2 page)

“I’m sorry, warrior’s daughter,” Drake called out apologetically. His voice was far too loud against the serenity of the nexus. Well, the typical serenity. You know, when I wasn’t getting attacked and almost killed. “I’d forgotten how delicate you are.”

“She is only half-dragon, fledgling,” Branson admonished. He was standing, sword sheathed and hands crossed behind his back, to one side of Drake.

I might adore being treated like I was precious, but I wasn’t interested in being insulted or underestimated by immortal creatures.

I sat up.

Qiuniu shifted back on his haunches to allow me space. “I would be pleased to heal you, Jade Godfrey.”

His utterance of my given name flooded through me like the tingly warmth that came from sipping great champagne. You know, like panty remover.

I gritted my teeth against the feeling and cranked my neck right, then left. Qiuniu actually flinched from the cracking sound. Blood rushed into my skull with a painful pulse, pounding right at the top of my spine. Good. The pain would keep me from getting all cozy with the guardian. I wasn’t at all interested in mixing up magic and emotions anymore. And by emotions I meant sex, of course.

“I’m good,” I said. This came out gruffer than I intended, but Qiuniu, who was the second-youngest guardian next to Haoxin, didn’t take offense as easily as some of the older guardians.

He smiled, sweetly disappointed. The guardian’s healing was administered via a searingly hot kiss. At least it was when he’d healed me in the past. I momentarily wished my stubbornness away … it was a great kiss, and I didn’t want to be bruised all evening …
 

Then, with a wash of golden magic that literally took my breath away, the portal behind me opened. The portal that led to the territory of Australia.
 

Qiuniu stood in a smooth movement, so swift I could barely track it. And I was sitting inches from him.

Drake froze, with the foot he’d been about to transfer his weight onto jutted out to one side.

Chocolate — an intense, spicy blend of smoky smoothness without a hint of bitterness — flooded my taste buds, as the warrior of the guardians stepped into the nexus behind me.

“Hey, Dad,” I said weakly, cranking my aching neck around to lay eyes on my father as the portal snapped shut behind him. Though I knew him to be over three hundred and fifty years old, Yazi appeared to be no older than thirty-five. His tanned skin and sun-bleached blond hair screamed ‘surfer dude.’ His grim scowl and the golden sword he carried casually by his side screamed ‘pissed-off demigod.’ The fact that his hard-shelled, samurai-inspired armor was splattered with blood and ash didn’t ease the intimidation factor.

“Jade,” he said. My name came out as a growled threat to everyone arrayed in front of me.

Branson and Drake instantly dropped to one knee with their eyes downcast. Qiuniu twitched, as if he’d stopped himself from doing the same.

A different kind of pleasure flooded through me, and I tucked my chin to hide the smirk that was now spread across my face. What a freaking brat I was. All pleased that my father had rushed to the apparent scene of my death … for the second time. I’d never had a dad growing up. Yazi and I had only met just over a year ago. I told myself I was allowed to be pleased that he cared for me.

“Healer,” Yazi said.

“Warrior,” Qiuniu answered.

“Thank you for attending my daughter.”

Qiuniu inclined his head. “My pleasure.”

Err, wrong thing to say. Yazi narrowed his eyes further. By the look of his armor, he’d been off saving the world from some terrible something that I wanted to know nothing about.
 

I scrambled to my feet, not at all worried about looking dignified or powerful now. “It was an accident,” I said. My words were breathy and rushed. My throat was still healing. I threaded the fingers of my left hand through the wedding rings I’d soldered like charms to the gold necklace I wore twined three times around my neck. The wedding rings contained glimmers of residual magic, which I’d mortared into the necklace with my own magic. As with my knife, I’d created the necklace before I knew I was an alchemist. I wore it constantly. As best as I could tell, given that I couldn’t actually see or taste my own magic, it seemed to collect more of my residual power daily. In the past, I’d used it to shield myself from harmful spells, but in tense situations — like this one — it was more of a comfort blanket.

Yazi frowned, then loosened the fingers of his sword hand. His gold broadsword simply winked out of existence. The intense taste of the warrior’s magic lessened enough that I could pick out strains of the other magic swirling to surround me now. Qiuniu always somehow carried music with him wherever he went. I never knew the tune, but I could hear hints of it. The pounding at the base of my skull eased a bit.

Yazi stepped toward me and placed his fingers underneath my chin. I’d never seen him not smile for such an extended period of time before. He applied pressure to my chin and I obligingly lifted it.

“You attend, healer, but you don’t heal?” he asked without looking away from me.

“The alchemist refused me, warrior.”

A slow, wide grin spread across my father’s face, transforming him from a forbidding warrior into a good-natured buddy type. “Did you now?”

I grinned back at him. “It was just a scratch.”

He threw back his head and laughed. The nexus shook. Or maybe it was just that all the magic in the air bloomed at this sound. That was my dad. He could lop the heads off three demons in a single blow and make magic dance with a chortle at the same time. He would be terrifying if I didn’t love him so much.

I glanced, still grinning, at Qiuniu. He looked less than pleased. Not that his fine features could ever really look sour, but it was the twist of his lips that betrayed his displeasure.

I stifled my grin. “I apologize, healer. I would never wish to waste your time.”
 

He nodded. “Happily, I was in the nexus when Drake came to me. Not to worry, warrior’s daughter.”

“Speaking of hasty fledglings,” Yazi said.

I opened my mouth to intervene, to protest Drake’s innocence. My father shook his head at me. I snapped my mouth shut.

“You’re still working off your last escapade, Drake,” the warrior continued.

“Luckily Suanmi doesn’t put much value on my life, so this shouldn’t add to the fledgling’s probation,” I said. I really wasn’t great at keeping my mouth shut when a friend was on the chopping block. The fire breather, Suanmi, loathed me. Actually, she loathed the happenstance of my birth. Conceived of a witch and a dragon during a fertility ceremony of the Kalkadoon — aka a tribe of Australian Aboriginals — I was unnatural. Suanmi had declared me ‘an abomination’ when she’d first laid eyes on me. It didn’t help that my presence in the nexus only encouraged Drake to disobey the restrictions and requirements of his guardian apprenticeship and training.
 

My father huffed at my interruption. Drake, who was still down on one knee, squirmed uncomfortably.

“Indeed,” Qiuniu said. He laughed softly.
 

Suanmi’s hatred was amusing, I guess. If she didn’t scare the hell out of me, I might have laughed along with the healer. As it was, I’d seen her cremate a demon by merely whispering in its ear, so I endeavored to stay way off the fire breather’s radar. This was a simpler task now, because after Drake had accidentally accompanied me on a scouting trip that ended in a triple demon summoning in London last year, Suanmi had demanded a separate training schedule for him. Which was fine because it opened up the mornings I needed to be at the bakery anyway. Well, my mornings … time didn’t exist the same way in the nexus. But I missed hanging out with the fledgling. He carried a lightness with him that I had a difficult time emulating these days, though my beleaguered soul was slowly healing.

Drake peered up at me. His dark brown eyes were almost hidden behind his bangs. I stepped forward to brush the hair off his forehead.

“You need a haircut,” I chided with a smile.

And that was all it took for him to spring, grinning, to his feet. “I have missed you, warrior’s daughter. I will be careful with your head from now on.”

Qiuniu choked back a laugh. My father expelled another huff of displeasure.

“Branson,” Yazi said.

The sword master rose to his feet but kept his eyes downcast.

“I entrusted my daughter to your care, my friend,” Yazi continued.

“Yes, warrior,” Branson said. “I have failed you.”

“No,” I cried. “It was a terrible test. There’s so much magic here, I didn’t feel Drake approach —”

“Then that is the skill you will hone next,” Yazi said, as if being inundated and overwhelmed by the power of the dragons was nothing.

Branson looked at me thoughtfully. His gaze then fell to my wedding ring charm necklace. “Perhaps the necklace the alchemist wears could be —”

“I’m awaiting the treasure keeper,” I blurted, interrupting what I was sure was about to become a lesson plan that would occupy months, if not years, of my time. Months that I greedily wanted to myself.

Qiuniu stifled another laugh. I was so glad I amused him. Not.

Branson inclined his head. “As you will, warrior’s daughter.” Then he looked to Yazi, who nodded back at him. Branson, taking this as permission to leave, spun away and strode off through the far archway.

“You hurt his feelings,” Drake said. He sounded surprised.

“His ego,” Yazi corrected. “Not a bad lesson for you to learn today, Drake, apprentice to Chi Wen.”

Drake nodded reverently to my father, who touched my shoulder lightly but then turned to Qiuniu. “I must return,” he said. “Do you have a moment, healer?”

“For you, warrior, always.”

Yazi turned back to open the portal behind him.

Qiuniu, a step behind my father, brushed by me with a whisper. “Next time.” His breath tickled my skin, spreading the warmth of his healing power across my cheek and down my neck. Sneaky bugger.
 

My father turned back to glower at the healer, but he stepped through the golden magic of the portal without another word as he did so. He wasn’t big on goodbyes. I was just coming to realize that my mortality was a thorny issue for him.

With a wink back at me, Qiuniu was swallowed by the portal. The door snapped shut.

“The healer wants to bed you,” Drake said. His tone suggested he was mystified by this discovery.

“Drake!”

“What? Did I use the expression incorrectly? The healer wants to take you to bed? To his bed?” the fourteen-year-old continued. “To have sex, you know.”

“Stop. Talking.”

“Guardians don’t wed. A marriage is traditional in your culture, isn’t it?”

“I’m not going to sleep with Qiuniu.”

Drake nodded sagely, but doubtfully.

I narrowed my eyes at him, completely forgetting it was a useless gesture against a dragon, even if he was only fourteen. “Don’t pretend you know different,” I snapped.

Drake, grinning madly, scrambled back a few steps and drew his sword in a flash of gold. “Pull your knife, warrior’s daughter!” he shouted. “Get back on the broken horse!”

I sighed. “That’s not the expression —”

Drake whipped his head toward the door to his immediate left. The white-paneled one, decorated with hundreds of ornate gold fleurs-de-lis. As in, actual gold. The crazy grin was gone from the fledgling’s face. He looked back at me with wide eyes, opened his mouth to say something, but then seemed to change his mind.

“What?” I asked.

“Got to go,” he said. Then he took off through the archway that Branson had exited through. He didn’t even bother to sheath his sword.

What the hell?

Portal magic bloomed behind the door that led to the territory of the guardian of Western Europe. I half-turned toward it, fear pooling in the pit of my stomach, but not knowing what to do. I hadn’t seen Suanmi in over ten months, not since that terrible night in London. Not since I’d begged her for help with my sister. She’d told me to “clean up my own mess,” and warned me that if I didn’t do so, she’d put me out of my misery.

I didn’t want to run. I also really didn’t want to be eviscerated with a single breath.

The portal opened. A foot shod in a drool-worthy Louboutin pump stepped through. Yes, a nude patent leather Very Prive peep-toe pump with the Louboutin signature red sole, which cost more than a month of rent on my apartment and bakery combined.

I clutched my necklace, practically praying for its shielding protection. I didn’t draw my knife, though my every instinct was screaming at me to do so.

As Suanmi the fire breather walked through the portal, I stepped my right foot behind my left ankle and bowed my head in a formal curtsy. I utterly refused to fall to my knees, not unless she forced me there. Suanmi’s navy blue Chanel pencil skirt skimmed her gorgeous legs just below her knees. The Louboutin heels and pristine nylons, which she wore despite it being late summer, swathed slim calves that didn’t look anything like the calves of the forty-five-year-old woman Suanmi pretended to be. Or maybe ‘pretend’ was the wrong word. Maybe that was just the point at which she’d decided to stop aging naturally? She was only a hundred or so years older than the treasure keeper, Pulou. If you can refer to being six hundred years old as ‘only.’

I kept my eyes cast downward, my fingers twined through the rings of my necklace. The magic — the utter power of the fire breather — thundered around me, and I fought the need to give in to it, to fall to the ground and rail against its crushing force. Suanmi never bothered to dampen her magic, not the way my father, Pulou, and even Qiuniu did around me.

Suanmi didn’t even pause. She stepped by me without acknowledgment, and that was fine by me.

I tried to focus on the clicking of her heels, counting her steps to the archway and beyond. Acting on the instinct to protect myself, I took all the magic raging around me and willed it into my necklace. I begged the necklace to hold it at bay, so I didn’t make a fool of myself in front of the guardian of Western Europe for the third time of our brief acquaintance.