Shadows, Maps, and Other Ancient Magic (4 page)

I had to smirk at the presence of the candy wrappers, though. I came by my sweet tooth genetically. At least, that was how I currently justified my chocolate consumption levels.

The treasure keeper plucked the charmed pen out of my hand at the same time as I took the offered bundle from him. The moment I touched it, I thought — and immediately dismissed — that it might be skin. As in, human.

I ignored the bile threatening to rise at the back of my throat, unfolded the please-don’t-be-human-skin parchment, and stared at all the pretty colors and shapes drawn on it. I had an inkling it was supposed to be a map — based on the plethora of green and blue — but I had no freaking idea how to read it. I think the triangles were supposed to be mountains? Honestly, it looked like it belonged under glass in a museum, not in my hand and soon-to-be stained with chocolate.

“A task more worthy of the alchemist’s skills,” Pulou said. “A task more interesting.” I wasn’t a hundred percent sure he wasn’t mocking me with the ‘alchemist’s skills’ part, but I was too intrigued — in a slightly disgusted way — to fret about it.

“This … this isn’t a tattoo, is it?”

“Yes, from my predecessor. Entrusted to me when I assumed his guardianship.”

The ‘tattoo’ was about as wide and long as my back, and undoubtedly that was where it had been placed … you know, before it was … removed. I was holding what was possibly a map previously tattooed on and then skinned from a guardian dragon. A flower-and-leaf motif along one side, multicolored striped circles in either corner, and what appeared to be interconnected blocks along the other side, blurred its purpose for me. It sleepily thrummed with magic.

“I must go. Bixi calls.”

My meetings with Pulou were always exceedingly brief, and usually ended with me firing questions at the treasure keeper’s back as he was called away to open a portal for another guardian elsewhere in the world. Bixi was the guardian of North Africa. In human form she was the spitting image of Cleopatra, but her guardian-inherited ability was shapeshifting.

Pulou brushed by me. His magic was a far more bearable version of Suanmi’s. It didn’t constantly boil around him as the fire breather’s power did.

“Should I come back tomorrow for further instruction? Will we hunt together?”

“My magic will not help in this hunt. You must go where guardians dare not tread.”

Wait, what? Um, that didn’t sound good at all. “ ‘Dare not tread’?” I said. “But not like, ‘cannot tread,’ right? Not like this could kill me?”

“I do not hold you in such low regard, Jade Godfrey,” Pulou said. His tone was as serious as I’d ever heard it. “But I have now given you access to all the knowledge I possess in the matter. Unfortunately, my predecessor’s journals were lost in a fire before I had a chance to study them.”

He gestured toward the tattoo that I continued to hold gingerly by the edges. “As I’m sure you can taste, the tattoo was created by an alchemist. Luckily for me, you’re also an alchemist. Figure out how to read it, and then we shall talk about guardian myths.”
 

The treasure keeper pulled open a door covered in hieroglyphics. Or at least hundreds of shapes that I was guessing were ancient Egyptian writing, based on my extensive film-and-TV accumulated knowledge. The portal magic flooded the nexus, making my brain momentarily stutter. I swore the golden magic reached out for Pulou, as if welcoming him home with a cozy hug.

Pulou stepped into the portal.

“Wait!” I cried after him — regaining the use of my tongue if not my brain — as he disappeared from my sight. “At least tell me if it’s a map!”

The door snapped shut behind the treasure keeper.

I was once again alone in the nexus. Why did I have the feeling that I was the one who’d just gotten pranked?

It is a map.

I looked up. Pulou’s voice echoed through the nexus, but he hadn’t returned.

I sighed, carefully refolded the parchment along the lines that already creased it, and tucked it into my trusty Matt & Nat satchel.

Right. I finally got assigned a real treasure-hunting mission, but first I had to figure out how to read a map that even a guardian couldn’t read … great. It was like being stuck in a high school geography class all over again when I’d never been better than a C+ student. And I’d really, really been looking forward to stealing the circlet from Blackwell’s castle. Whoops, I meant reclaiming the inhibitor. Yeah, and kicking the sorcerer’s ass if he tried to stop me. I had unresolved feelings for Blackwell. As in, I was really resolved he was evil through and through, but I didn’t know what to do about it.

Okay.
 

If it was a map, someone should be able to read it. If Pulou thought that someone was me, then who was I to question one of the guardian nine?

I turned toward the First Nations-carved cedar door, through which I’d entered the nexus hours ago, and willed the portal to take me home.

∞

“It’s my belated birthday.” Kandy the green-haired werewolf stood — arms crossed and glowering — in the middle of the bakery basement. She’d been waiting for me the moment I stepped from the portal onto the hard-packed dirt floor.

“I know,” I answered, giving her a blazing smile. It was her belated birthday because she’d gone camping with her Norwegian buddy, Jorgen, on the weekend of her actual birthday, August 8th. I’d been invited, but I had a feeling that my and a werewolf’s idea of camping were completely different. Plus, I still wasn’t sure whether I would have been crashing a date or not. Kandy was super close-mouthed about anything remotely personal. Her personal. Not mine, of course.

I hadn’t even known that Kandy was a physiotherapist until she got certified to work in Canada and started picking up shifts at the clinic a couple of blocks down the street. Even then, I think she only told me because she needed a reference for work visa purposes.

I’d created four new cupcakes —
Sass in a Cup,
Tease in a Cup, Flirt in a Cup,
and
Tart in a Cup
— with the taste of Kandy’s dark-chocolate berry-infused magic in mind, though without the bitter finish. I’d given Kandy two of her birthday cupcakes for her camping trip, because my main gift hadn’t been ready until today. My now-twenty-six-year-old werewolf best friend was perfectly happy to have two chances to eat cupcakes especially made for her, and I was more than happy to make them.

“You’re late.”

“Am I?” I said, as if I didn’t know we had any plans at all. Then I dug into the inner side pocket of my satchel, carefully avoiding touching the dragonskin map, and pulled out a folded, printed piece of paper. I handed the paper to Kandy.

Her glower deepened as she snatched the paper from me. The green-haired werewolf was about two inches shorter than me, and favored tank tops and ripped jeans. But tonight she was dressed in sleek black pants that fit her lithe body like a rubber glove and rode almost embarrassingly low on her nonexistent hips. Her black satin halter top draped, rather becomingly, down to the small of her back. Her hair, which she’d been growing out, was gelled straight up in various three-inch spikes all over her head.

I was going to need to change.

Kandy unfolded the paper and read the tickets I’d printed. I’d bought us two spots in a truffle-making course at Chocolate Arts that night.

Kandy huffed, hiding her approval of the gift behind her grumpiness. “So that takes care of dinner. Then what?” she asked.

I laughed. “Oh, I’ve got a few ideas. There might even be dancing.”

“You have exactly thirty minutes to look respectable enough to be by my side tonight.”

“Aye, aye, belated-birthday captain,” I said with a salute. Then I stepped past the werewolf to climb the wooden stairs that led out of the basement and into the pantry of my bakery above.

Kandy stopped me by wrapping her arm around my neck from behind, pressing her face into the curls at the back of my neck. It was like being held — carefully — by steel bands.

“Sometimes I worry you won’t come back,” she whispered. “When you go through the portal.”

“I won’t leave you.”

I felt Kandy nod, but she didn’t immediately release me. Ten months ago, she had chosen to stay in Vancouver with me instead of returning to the base of the West Coast North American Pack in Portland, though she’d visited at least once a month since making that decision. She really wasn’t a fan of the pack’s new beta, Audrey. And I also thought Kandy held some guilt about the death of a fledgling werewolf, Jeremy, at the hands of my sister over a year ago. Guilt because she was technically a pack enforcer, and she should have protected him better. She swore she stayed for my protection, along with some political mumbo jumbo about alliances and whatever. Except Kandy was the least political person I knew.

She also might have stayed because she thought Desmond had broken my heart. He hadn’t — we weren’t meant to be together despite all odds or anything — but he’d dented it pretty good. No matter that Sienna had deserved it. I wasn’t about to forgive him for killing my sister.

I hadn’t heard from or spoken to Kandy’s alpha since January, when I’d chosen to aid Rochelle instead of helping the pack get their collective hands around Blackwell’s neck. The visit had resulted in claws and knives unsheathed and insults exchanged, and had probably widened the divide between Desmond and me rather than repaired anything.

I wasn’t going to be a political ally — in or out of Desmond’s bed — and that’s all he wanted me in his life for anyway. It was time to move on. Didn’t we all deserve to fall head over heels for someone who utterly adored us in return?

Sigh.

“I thought there would be more cupcakes,” Kandy muttered into my hair.

“There will be cupcakes. Two new ones, plus the first two you already tasted.”

“I looked everywhere.”

I laughed. “I baked them at Gran’s.”

Kandy swore and released me. “What are you waiting for, then?” she growled. Then she dashed ahead of me up the stairs.

Not all werewolves kept their emotions so far in check as Kandy did, but tears and robust laughter were rare occurrences with my best friend. We were complete opposites that way.

∞

I switched out my T-shirt for a light-blue silk peasant blouse with a drawstring neck, and my jeans for a black silk skirt. The skirt had the most perfect, subtly ruffled edge that fell just above my knees. I kept my necklace coiled three times around my neck, where it rested nicely on my collarbone, and strapped the invisible sheath for my jade knife to my bare thigh. The skirt was loose enough that it didn’t show the outline of the knife when I was standing, but I’d have to be careful when sitting down. I usually left the unnerving of people to Kandy, and it was her belated birthday after all. I slipped on a pair of black Fluevogs — classic Gorgeous Minis — to complete the look. Thankfully I’d gotten my legs waxed last weekend, so I was good to go barelegged.
 

I hustled through the apartment to join Kandy in the living room, where she was sharing a glass of red wine with my mother, Scarlett. As I crossed by the kitchen, Scarlett smiled, her strawberry blond hair its usual perfect smooth wave down her back.

A plate of candied salmon, cream cheese, and onion-and-garlic brown rice crackers sat on the gray granite kitchen island, and I fell on this treat without a word. I had to compete with Kandy, though, and the salmon was already half gone. Scarlett laughed and touched my shoulder lightly. Her magic tingled through the thin silk of my blouse. She touched me every time she saw me these days, as if reassuring herself I was actually beside her. Gran as well. I’d scared them very badly in Tofino. Or rather, Sienna almost killing me in Tofino had scared my mother and grandmother terribly.

“Merlot, Jade?” Scarlett asked.

“No thanks, Mom. I think we’re almost late as it is.”

“The cab is waiting for us,” Kandy said. She swallowed the remainder of her wine in a single gulp. Her wicked metabolism probably burned off all the alcohol before it even hit her stomach. I had found — since recovering from almost dying, and draining my magic so severely in order to take Sienna’s — that I had to drink so much to get buzzed now that my stomach usually rebelled before my head did. Yeah, I’d tested it more than once. A girl had to try to have some fun, and Kandy was always up for a round of good pub food.

“It’s like a four-block walk,” I said.

“More like seven, and in those shoes?” Kandy said, a wolfish grin on her face. I took the grin to mean that my outfit was acceptable.

I laughed, and then cried out, “Let the revelry begin!”

Scarlett laughed. Kandy and I headed for the front door. As I passed the couch, I realized I’d forgotten to transfer my wallet and keys to a smaller, prettier bag, so I jogged back to my bedroom and grabbed my satchel instead. Thankfully, Matt & Nat satchels went with every outfit. At least every outfit I owned.

∞

Chocolate Arts was on West Third Avenue between Pine and Fir Streets, just one block north and six blocks east of the bakery. The evening was clear and balmy. The sun still wouldn’t set for a couple of hours. Though it would be the first day of fall next Tuesday, the glorious summer weather had held and the trees hadn’t started changing color yet. The cherry tree and magnolia blossoms were months gone, but the air was still sweetly fragrant. Kandy could probably pick me up, throw me across False Creek, and I’d hit downtown Vancouver, but you’d never know that a big city was that near tonight.

We hopped into the completely unnecessary cab, which drove the half-dozen blocks and pulled up to double-park out front of the chocolatier. I passed the cabby a ten, happy that I’d thought to grab cash from the ATM yesterday when I dropped the deposit for the bakery. Kandy was on the sidewalk before the taxi had fully pulled to a stop. There was parking out back that led customers through the kitchen to the storefront, but the one time I’d entered through the back, I felt like I was totally invading the chocolatier’s creative space.

Chocolate Arts specialized in decadent truffles using Valrhona and Cacao Barry chocolate, as well as their own line of chocolate and ice cream bars. Their salted caramels were the first I’d ever tasted, and the eighth-inch rectangles of chocolate-covered goodness were a go-to purchase for me. As in, every time I dropped by. Tonight, we’d be learning how to make some of their signature truffles, which meant Kandy and I would be guzzling melted chocolate while we rolled balls of variously flavored ganache into lumps of tastiness. I planned to be cocoa-buzzed and covered in chocolate up to my elbows within the hour. Too bad I didn’t have anyone to lick it off me later … or I’d bring home a container cup.