The Villain Keeper (10 page)

Tito glanced between her and Caden. “Um. You'll give it back to me, right?”

“Of course,” Brynne said. “I'm not that type of thief.”

Caden scoffed—like there was more than one kind.

Brynne took the necklace. She sat beside Caden on the cold earth and turned it over. The chain was interwoven wires of delicate copper and pewter, and resembled a vine. Hanging from the chain was a pendant of strange stone,
black and glassy. She handed it to Caden. It warmed his hand, unaffected by the winter air.

“She never took that thing off,” Tito said, and plopped down beside them.

“I suppose she wouldn't,” Brynne said. “She made it?”

“Yeah, this summer.”

Brynne chewed on her bottom lip like she was in deep thought. “Someone who could make something like this is very special.”

“Can't disagree with that,” Tito said and kicked at the dirt, his cheeks turning pink. “But, look, she bought that rock at the mall and she got the wires from the art supply store.”

Brynne motioned to the necklace. “It's a protective amulet,” she said. “The necklace is enchanted, and it's undocumented. No one in recent history can do enchantment or item magic like this. Not until now. Not until your Jane.”

Undocumented? Caden had researched protective amulets before. This was the first he'd seen up close; the first he'd ever held. In Razzon, there were one hundred and twenty-six known magical items. All priceless. His coat was number one hundred and twelve. It seemed he held a new item between his fingers.

“Huh,” Tito said. “You're supposedly a sorceress. His royal highness says the trap is magic. Why are you so surprised by an enchanted necklace?”

“Because it's
enchantment
. Look, there are three types of magic.” Brynne pointed to the trap. “The magic in the pit was ritual magic. It's attached to a place.” She scrunched up her nose like she was repulsed by the thought of it. “It's the darkest of magics and requires sacrifices of blood and soul—but never of the practitioner, always of the innocent.” Tito paled a bit, but Brynne seemed not to notice. “With instructions and the right materials, anyone can attempt it, and too many do.”

“I take it ritual magic isn't your type of sorcery,” Tito said.

“Ritual magic isn't sorcery at all.” She sat up straighter. “Sorcery is magic of the mind. It requires study and concentration. It's attached to people. It's one of the great disciplines of the Greater Realm and by far the most respected.”

There was little respectable about sorcery. Caden couldn't speak, because he'd been ordered not to. But he could again scoff, and did.

Brynne cast him a glare but continued. “It's people magic. It takes both talent and discipline. That's sorcery, that's my magic,” she said, and puffed up. “Enchantment is the third type—the magic of items.”

Caden held the necklace to the moonlight. Carved into the dark stone, he saw the image of a great tree. Great trees had a special significance in the Greater Realm. While the Winterbird protected the Winterlands and
people of Razzon, it was the Walking Oak that rooted in the Springlands and kept watch over the men, gnomes, and elves there. Of course, there were many trees in Asheville as well, and this might have been one of them. It might not have meant anything.

Or maybe it did.

He handed the necklace back to Tito. Tito took it quietly, put it on, and tucked it beneath his shirt. The necklace—magic item number one hundred and twenty-seven, the missing girl's amulet of protection—disappeared beneath the cotton. Things needed to be said. Caden needed to say them. He poked Brynne's shoulder and pointed to his mouth.

“What?” Her thoughtful expression turned sly. “You want a kiss?”

Even now she toyed with him. Caden blushed and shook his head. He pointed to his mouth again.

She leaned toward him like she might actually kiss him. He felt his heart begin to race and his ears turn hot. Then she laughed and pulled away. “Fine,” she said. “Talk, then.”

Beside him, Tito snickered.

Everything about Brynne, these people, and this situation was frustrating. Caden was tempted to kick nonmagical dirt at them both. Instead, he straightened his collar. “We thought Asheville was a place devoid of magic, but I do not think that is the case. Brynne and I were pulled here by
dark magic. Rath Dunn teaches math at the school. There was a ritual magic trap in the mountains and an amulet of protection that belonged to a girl who is now missing. There is magic here—that is certain. We must find how these things are connected. Then we will know why we're here.” Then, they could find their way home.

And if Jane was indeed an enchantress, and it seemed she was, there was more Tito needed to know. Jane was his friend. From Tito's reactions to her name, there was no doubt she was dear to him. Caden glanced at Brynne. She stared down at her hands, seemingly watching shadows play across her slender fingers and likely troubled by similar thoughts.

Tito glanced between them. “What?” he said.

“He's
your
peasant,” Brynne mumbled. “You tell him.”

“Tell me what?” Tito said.

Tito deserved the truth. Caden raised his chin. “All magics have their price. Ritual magic requires blood. Sorcery drains energy.” He gave Brynne a pointed look. “More than one foolish sorcerer or sorceress has fallen to exhaustion and not awoken again.”

At that, Brynne glared. “I know how to handle it.”

That was an argument for another time. He turned back. “To enchant an item a person must pay the price in years of life. Enchanting even one item drastically reduces lifespan.” He patted his sleeve. “It's rumored he who made my coat fell at a mere seventeen turns.”

“Uh-huh, right, then why would anyone do it? Because I've got news for you, Jane's smarter than that.”

Caden and Brynne exchanged looks again.

“She must have been very desperate for protection,” Caden said. “Enough that she had no other choice, and the trap must have been particularly attuned to her, and powerful, when it ensnared her.”

The question that hung in the air was,
protection from what?

Tito fidgeted and looked from Caden to Brynne. “So your sorcery drains your energy, but Jane's enchanting drains her life?”

Brynne looked back at her hands. “I'm sorry, Tito. But no known enchanter has lived more than twenty turns.”

“Let's say I believe you,” Tito said. “Maybe Jane should just stop enchanting crap.”

“That seems unlikely,” Caden said.

Brynne seemed to agree. “I've never heard of an enchanter not enchanting,” she said. “It's what they do.”

“The bigger question,” Caden said, “is why does a normal Ashevillian girl know so much about magic?”

They sat for a moment. The chill in the air cut deeper with the silence. Finally, Caden spoke. “Rath Dunn is evil,” he said. “What if he trapped and took Jane?”

Brynne seemed to consider this. “If she was indeed an enchantress, she, too, might have recognized him for what he is. It would explain the amulet of protection.”

“Why Jane?” Tito asked.

“Enchantment is rare magic,” Caden repeated. “We will discover the reasons for his treachery. We will get her back. But we must be clever. We must use care.” He turned to Brynne.

“First, though, you must remove the curse.”

She arched a brow. “Ask nicely,” she said.

T
wo hours later, the half-moon was covered by clouds. The temperature had dropped. The air smelled of snow, and Caden was still cursed.

“Try again,” he said.

Brynne touched his chest. The burn radiated out to his arms and legs, his fingers and toes. He fell to his knees.

Caden looked up at her. “I felt something.”

She nodded and looked hopeful. “Fall backward.”

Immediately, Caden obeyed her order. His hope shattered as his back hit the chilled dirt. He slapped the ground with his palms. “Try again,” he said.

Tito leaned against a nearby pine tree. He had his arms folded across his chest and he yawned. “You know,” he said, “I don't know much about magic, but this doesn't seem to be breaking.”

Curses could always be broken. “It'll break,” Caden said.

Brynne looked thoughtful, then away. She was oddly quiet.

Caden got to his feet. “I'm ready.”

When she turned back, for a fleeting moment she looked guilty. “There might be a problem. This curse might not break,” she said.

The time she'd spelled him with a tail, she'd undone it. The time she'd turned his eyes from brown to purple, they'd faded back to normal within an afternoon. “Of course this one will break,” Caden said. “All curses do.”

She bit her lip and looked down at her hands. “It's your fault,” she said.

Caden didn't like her guilty tone, didn't like the way she wasn't making eye contact. He especially didn't like the way her words sounded irritated but she was twisting her hands like she was worried. “What's my fault?” he said.

“My magic is strong,” she said. “And sometimes my control is lacking. And you're annoying.”

Caden really didn't like this. “What are you saying?”

“She's saying you're screwed,” Tito said. “She can't fix you.”

“I can't be stuck like this for another day,” Caden said. He poked Brynne square in the shoulder. “Fix it, witch.”

“I can't.” She shifted and looked down. When she looked back up, she looked ready for a fight. “And if the
curse won't break, it'll reoccur.”

“Wait. What?”

“For two days, as the half-moon rises so shall your compliance be complete.” Softly, she added, “It was an accident.”

Forced obedience for two days during each waning moon for forever was unfathomable. How could he serve his father and his kingdom? He'd be a weakness. He could be used against his family, his people, and his kingdom.

“I'm sorry,” she said, but Caden was in no mood to forgive her.

They trudged back to the house. Once there, Tito insisted they sneak Brynne inside, and that they enter from the ground floor window. Caden pulled through first. He landed quietly on the planked floor. Inside, the television murmured something about impending snow. He turned to help the others and froze. Leaning against the side wall, Rosa stood, arms crossed and brow arched.

Brynne dashed out of sight. Tito paled. Caden squared his shoulders and raised his chin. “It's completely my fault,” he said. Rosa led them wordlessly, angrily, to the couch. Tito sat beside Caden, hunched over and quiet. A single lamp lit the space, and the fireplace glowed with embers from a faded flame.

On the television, an image of Sir Horace's magnificent rump flashed. The volume was low, but Caden heard something about “a beautiful white horse seen near the edge of
Pisgah National Forest.” Caden sighed. Sir Horace did enjoy exploring new lands. Asheville and this Pisgah Forest were no exceptions, but he'd return soon enough.

“Look at me, Caden.” Rosa flipped the television off. She'd said that already. She'd said other things as well, but Caden had soon lost interest. She moved in front of him, her hands on her hips. “Am I boring you?”

“Very much so,” Caden said.

With a glower, she paced in front of them in a purple robe. It pooled around her feet in great velvet folds. She glanced out the window like she sensed Brynne's presence but couldn't quite latch onto it. Finally, she fixed her gaze on Caden. “What did you think you were doing?”

It wasn't an order, so Caden kept quiet.

Tito, however, seemed to be having trouble deciding if he was frightened or angry. Anger won out for a moment. “What do you care?”

“When you sneak out in the middle of the night, I care. You could've been hurt.” Rosa's cheek twitched. She closed her eyes and appeared to be counting. “Explain to me what you think you were doing.”

An order. “We were looking for clues to Jane Chan's disappearance,” Caden said.

That seemed to drain her. “Jane ran away.”

“She wouldn't have done that,” Tito said. “You always believe the worst. You're no different from anybody else! You don't care.” As soon as the words burst out, Tito's eyes
got big and he snapped his mouth shut.

Suddenly, the purple robe looked weighty on her shoulders and she sagged beneath its heft. “I care,” she said.

Tito turned away. “Right, sure. Whatever.”

For a moment, the living room was as silent as a gnomish burial mound. Rosa looked between them and rubbed her brow. “We'll talk about this in the morning. Go to bed. Don't let this happen again.”

“It might,” Caden said. If he survived the next day, he guessed the likelihood was quite high, actually. Especially without the curse forcing his compliance. “I have to comply for now, but make no promises for later.”