“Easy come, easy go,” I muttered, staring at the handful of change I had left.
Splayed around the living room were the purchases I’d made, the vast majority coming from El, while the remainder had been picked up at the local hardware store. After some consideration, we’d decided against reinforcing the wards in-house. The time cost involved in developing thicker and more powerful wards was too high.
Rather than do that, I had chosen to work on a portable safeguard. That was why our coffee table had been pushed aside and the beginning of our warding circle rolled out on the floor. For the base, I’d decided to go with leather—specifically troll leather. The material had been carefully cured and still kept a little of its regenerative properties, allowing it to keep its pristine condition.
Having finished contemplating my poverty once again, I turned back to the leather. I was using a beam compass to draw out the edges of the circle on a giant sheet of paper pinned to the leather itself. Once I’d drawn the various runes in pencil, making sure I had enough space for everything, I would then have to enchant the entire thing.
Unlike most of my other wards, the portable shelter would be a short-lived defense. It wasn’t meant to last forever. In fact, with the amount of power I intended to pump through the thing, I figured it’d burn out within five minutes even if no one attacked it. But those five minutes would allow the secondary enchantments to kick in.
Of course, before I could make the secondary enchantments, I needed to make sure the primary ones worked. Around me were the discarded pieces of paper from previous attempts. Each time, a minor mistake—or a better idea—spoiled my work. As I finished with the compass, I leaned back and sighed in relief. Step one, done.
“You know, this is the second day you’ve been at this,” Alexa said, shaking her head as she leaned against the wall. “And you wanted to build more weapons, right?”
“I do. But this is more important,” I said, pointing at the leather. “As you know, defensive enchantments are always stronger if they’re pre-laid. I can cook up a powerful spell without a thought, but a properly enchanted circle could eat any attack of mine and laugh. It’s why all-out attacks against a Mage’s Tower were so rare. Anyway, I’ll be done soon.”
“You haven’t even started inscribing the runes.”
“But I’ve worked out what I want. Did you get the rest of my stuff?”
“Yes. Crushed deathwatch beetles, the extracted poison of a naga, and the lymph glands of a Chupacabra,” Alexa said, wrinkling her nose.
“Great. I wrote the instructions somewhere…” I cast around, moving papers till I found the necessary document and waved it at the blonde. “Here. Follow instructions.”
“I—”
“Lily!” I waited for the jinn to acknowledge my call before going on. “Can you watch Alexa and warn her if she does something wrong?”
Lily made her way down the stairs, her face furrowed with concentration. I waited while she tested the restrictions on her ring and the wish before she grimaced. “Yeah. I think so.”
“See. Easy!” I cheerfully exclaimed to Alexa, who made a face at me.
I laughed, having passed on the most time consuming and smelly job. Of course, I could do it myself—and often did—but as Alexa had pointed out, we were short on time. Better to finish this now than to wait.
***
Staring at the slowly drying piece of enchanted leather, I eyed the magic circle critically in the waning light of evening. Not that the living room was dark—in fact, it was brighter than day with all the lights I had turned on. The various enchanted materials we’d mixed had been added to gold and silver dust before I had taken the time to carefully inscribe the entire thing. Rather than waste time painting it on, I’d used magic to keep the mixture melted and stirred while Force Fingers carefully guided the slow-flowing mixture in the correct paths. All the while, I infused the mixture with my Mana and enscribed the runes with the spell formula.
The process had drained me more than any other enchantment I’d ever done and had taken the better part of four painstaking hours. The final result, to my eye, was perfect. Unfortunately, to the jinn’s exacting nature, it was less so.
Enscribed Runic Portable Abode Cast
Spell Fidelity: 87.4%
Enchantment Durability: 34%
Max Duration: 6.7 minutes
Portable Abode
This portable abode is a travesty of magic and intent. Rather than building a permanent safe location, this abode focuses on thickening the defensive walls of the abode, ensuring that it can withstand a strike even by an Archmage. Or so the creator thinks. Currently, this is an incomplete enchantment with a loss of 5.8% efficiency due to unfinished connections in the center.
Creates a 5’ x 5’ x 8’ protected location when triggered.
“Harsh,” I said, eyeing Lily.
“But fair.” Lily shook her head. “I would have preferred something more traditional. But I understand your thinking.”
I nodded. The second enchantment, the one I’d yet to complete, was a teleportation enchantment. It was basically a Linked enchantment with a spatial component. The goal was simple—you stepped into the circle, triggered the abode, and the protective walls came up. In the meantime, the teleportation enchantment made the connection to your teleportation location before sending you over.
The reason why I’d built it to last five minutes—rather than just a simple teleportation circle—was because teleportation was an incredibly complex spell. In fact, it was so complex that I couldn’t actually do it. Not real teleportation.
So instead, I was going to cheat. The plan was to use Link, Anchor, and Summon spells to sidestep the concept of teleportation. Rather, I’d Summon us to the new location, with the individuals within the circle taking a short ride through another dimension. Much, much safer than an actual teleportation spell.
Still insanely dangerous, but much safer.
“Now that you’ve completed that perversion, what’s your next plan?” Lily said, looking at the trio of plastic tubes I had resting to one side.
“Oh. Those. One-off-use wands,” I said, grinning. “Except I’ve got this idea that rather than generate the air itself, if I use hollow plastic, I could just put a Gust spell within.”
Lily’s eyes narrowed in thought, but before she could hint at what I was doing wrong, a knock on our door drew us away. It was just the two of us, since Alexa was at her night job.
“Trouble?” I said, wandering over to the door while grabbing my staff. I’d leave it out of sight, behind the door, but I’d grown a little paranoid over the last few days.
“It normally doesn’t knock,” Lily pointed out.
“Huh. True.” I opened the door.
Outside, to my surprise, a bike messenger stood, his hand raised to knock again. “Mr. Henry Tsien?”
“Yes?”
“Document for you.” The messenger handed me a clipboard to sign before he relinquished the simple envelope.
“Thanks.”
I was closing the door before I realized the poor fellow expected a tip. Unfortunately, I didn’t have my wallet on me. Magical staff, sure. But wallet, no. Shaking my head, I closed the door fully and walked back to Lily, eyeing the purple envelope. For a small envelope, it had a certain heft and stiffness that spoke of high quality, thick paper. An invitation—old school too, with a seal on the back.
“Weird.” I waved the paper in front of Lily’s face.
When the jinn saw the seal on the back, she stiffened. The seal was dark red, a slight smear of color running and, as I raised the envelope further, gave off the slightest tingle of magic. Not enough for me to worry about a magical attack, though there was definitely magic in play here.
“Do you recognize it?”
Rather than answer directly, Lily nodded stiffly. When I realized I wasn’t going to receive any further information from the jinn, I walked over to the kitchen counter and carefully set aside the mail. I grabbed my bag, pulled out my modifiable warding tablets, and flicked them around until I had the enchanted runes ready. Once I’d placed the envelope within my bag, I released a surge of power into the warding tablet and sealed the envelope away.
Once that was done, I focused and cast Force Fingers, manipulating the envelope to open it. As I broke the seal, a flicker of power escaped, rotating around as the notification spell hit the edges of my barrier and then, unable to escape, self-destructed. My eyes narrowed before I pulled out the card within.
The invitation was on fine purple paper, the note within written in a cursive script reminiscent of medieval Bibles rather than the functional cursive we’d been taught. I cocked my head, deciphering the words before turning the card around to check for a post-script. Finding nothing on the back or in the envelope, I released the Force Fingers spell while leaving the envelope trapped.
“How interesting,” I muttered. “I didn’t realize Rihanna was a magic user.”
“Rhiannon! You ignorant, pop-culture-loving nerd! Rhiannon. The fae goddess!” Lily gave up on being quiet, only to clamp her mouth shut when she saw my crinkled eyes and choking laughter. Once I’d managed to get a hold of myself, she continued. “It’s not a laughing matter. She’s the queen of the fae. You can’t turn down that invitation.”
I cocked my head as I sobered up and pointed at Lily. “How powerful, exactly, is she?”
“Individually?” Lily played with a strand of hair as she walked away, tapping a few buttons to continue mining with her ship before she answered, her voice soft. “We don’t count things that way. Didn’t. Once you hit a certain… point, it’s hard to really compare. Powerful enough, Henry. That should be enough for you.”
I grunted, tapping the envelope again. “And why is she inviting me? Us?”
Lily shrugged, not offering an answer. Or perhaps unable to.
In either case, I looked at the invitation and waved at it. “So I’m assuming that’s safe?”
When I got no answer from Lily, I sighed and pumped a little more Mana into the shield. Better to be safe than sorry then. I had the address memorized at least. Grabbing a pad, I scribbled a note for Alexa then got dressed. Considering the invitation requested an audience ASAP and Lily’s reaction, letting them wait was a bad idea.
***
There were many places I’d expect to find a portal to Faery. A standing stone circle on a mist-enshrouded hilltop. Perhaps, if you were a Tolkien fan, the elves might be watching the opera or theatre—you know, refined and snooty. I would even accept a park or a secure warehouse, one that allowed large movements of people without issue—especially if they lay in a confluence of ley lines.
What I did not expect was for it to be inside a comedy club. Getting in was easy. All I had to do was pay the very reasonable door charge. That I was getting in toward the last half of the show meant that the door person was willing to give me a discount too. Inside, I headed to the bar opposite the stage, eyeing the dimly lit, half-filled room. I wrinkled my nose slightly as the smell of stale popcorn and alcohol mixed with the raucous laughter.
I ordered a beer and leaned against the bar. So. This was the address. And I assumed if I flashed the invitation, I’d have been led where I needed to go. But without it, I needed to work out by myself where I had to go. As I chuckled appreciatively at a joke about a chicken, a boat, and a college party, I let my Mana Sight activate.
It was always in play, to some extent. A Mage’s ability to cut through most glamours, to sense Mana was always on. But there was a difference between looking and seeing—a shift of perception and attention. I stopped just looking and actually saw, letting the swirl of ambient Mana register in my consciousness. In short order, I chugged down half of the bottle, fortifying myself with some alcoholic courage, and headed for the washroom.
Pity I’d miss the rest of the act. But needs must when the fae called.
I made it most of the way down the corridor, bypassing the washrooms and heading for the “employee only” entrance before I was caught. The bouncer seemed to materialize from nowhere, his seven-foot, linebacker body form drawing my attention only when he leaned forward and put a meaty paw in my way.
“Employees only,” he growled, his voice resounding in my chest like a rising drumroll.
Now that he’d moved, I could see him properly for what he was—a troll. A fae troll, not the German ones which are called the same but are an entirely different species. These guys are big, big eared and nosed, with magic in their blood and the strength of the mountains in their bones. In other words, he could have squashed me if he’d grabbed me.
“I’m invited,” I said and held up a hand, letting a light spell form around my hand.
The troll watched my hand. “Mage Tsien.”
Statement more than question, but I nodded. The troll dropped his hand, letting me by, and I walked to the door. A push let me in, leading down a corridor that shimmered before my eyes. I squinted slightly, realizing that the split in the corridor was both illusionary and true—one a magical road for those who could make it and another, the mundane route for the norms.
I exhaled, shaking my head at the casual use of magic. At the fact that the road to Faery wasn’t a standing stone but an illusion in a comedy club. And because where I was going, I had never been before. As I stepped onto the road, a hand dropped onto my shoulder, forcing me to blink.
“Lily?” I gaped at my friend. “How…?”
“We are between and betwixt,” Lily said. “Some rules are relaxed. And we were both invited, were we not?”
I was surprised by her presence, knowing how little Lily liked leaving the house. Even after all these years—which for the immortal jinn was probably an eyeblink—it was still uncommon for the jinn to voluntarily leave our house. Yet as we strode along the twisting cobblestone road, mist rising to brush against our legs, I found myself comforted by her presence.
“You do remember your stories about the fae, don’t you?” Lily said, brushing dark hair back across her ears as she hunched in her favorite hoodie. It said “Let me show you true magic” with a book underneath.
“Yeah…” I scrambled through my memories. “They don’t speak untruth, but they can lie via leading statements. Their promises are binding—as are mine. No eating food or drink, or taking gifts. Or offering them, because that’ll create obligations.”
Lily made a face, then waved. “Mostly. The first one is a lie, and the others have… refinements. But I don’t have time to teach you court etiquette.”
“Nor could you,” I said, cocking my head.
Lily’s shoulders rose in a nonchalant shrug. Out of conversation topics for the moment, I eyed our misty surroundings, devoid of sound the way only a mist-filled land could be. Everything, even my own steps, was muffled, while my ability to see had dropped from tens of feet to a few feet.
As we continued onward, I noticed how the mist was slowly growing less dense, more and more of the world becoming clear. Trees in the distance firmed up, their brown barks deepening even as their leaves danced on subtle wind. They shimmered, and I squinted, slowing down as I tried to grasp their meaning.
“Ooof.” A hand grabbed mine and pulled my gaze away as Lily stumbled. I helped her regain her balance before she offered me a sheepish smile. “Loose stone.”
“Oh…” I looked at the smooth cobblestones beneath my feet and then at the guileless jinn, before drawing a deep breath and setting my mental defenses higher. Even the trees were a danger here.
Because Faery was not part of Earth. Once, perhaps it had been, but now, it was a different land entirely. Much like Avalon, it existed in a parallel dimension, one reachable via such faery roads and circles, but separate and untouchable. It was a magical land, and as I walked, I sensed my magical senses, my sight, shivering and waking. The light here was brighter, the Mana more intense, the smells more potent. It was like taking a half dozen shots of energy drinks at one go, the way it made my body wake. I found myself smiling, even as I reached for the calm that I’d learned to exist in to cast magic.
An awning rose up from the hill without warning, the portable court blocking the light from the—two!—suns while those within lounged, laughed, and ate. The fae that stood in the tents were tall, reminiscent of Tolkien’s elves but subtly different. Inhuman with sharp teeth and cunning eyes, while looking elegant and refined at the same time, clad in courtier clothing at least three centuries out of date. And in the center of the mobile court was a single chair where a woman lounged, clad not in courtier clothing but practical riding clothes. As I entered the tent, the group hushed.
For a moment, I froze, but subtle pressure on my arm that Lily had yet to release had me moving forward. I paused in front of the riding figure and bowed low. And then, catching Lily’s beckoning hand beside me, went lower.
“Rise, Mage Tsien. It’s a pleasure to see you too, Auntie.” Rhiannon’s voice was low, rough. Her accent was hard to place, her diction clear and distinct.
“Auntie?” I mouthed to Lily, who shushed me with her eyes and flicked her gaze back to the queen. Or god. Depending on who you asked.
“Thank you, Queen Rhiannon,” I said, deciding on the lesser status. After all, she wasn’t acting like a goddess to those present, but a queen at most. So I’d go with that. Also, it made my heart feel a lot better to deal with a supernatural fae queen rather than a goddess. “I received your kind invitation. Though—”
“You are wondering why I brought you here?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“We do not, normally, interact with the mortal world. Our time there has passed,” Rhiannon said, her eyes twinkling slightly. “But you attracted our attention when you made inquiries about one of our former citizens.”
“I did?” I blinked, then realization caught up. “The doppelganger.”
“The Changeling,” Rhiannon corrected gently but firmly.
“My apologies for the slip of tongue, Your Majesty,” I said. “But I had thought Changelings could only… well, is that not normal?”
“An aberration. Changelings take a single form, but this one altered,” one of the courtiers said, his hair the violent purple one only saw on Teletubbies and bad ‘80s cartoons. “A mutation caused by the pollutants in your world.”
“Iron?” I guessed.
“If only that were the only poison in your world.” The courtier sniffed and opened his mouth, his hand rising, body leaning forward as he worked up to an epic rant. Only to be shut down by a single walnut tossed at his head by Rhiannon.
“Hush. My aunt has no desire to hear you rant. Nor I.”
“My apologies, my queen.” The courtier bowed low.
Dismissing him, Rhiannon looked at me. “So. What do you seek from us?”
“Knowledge, if you will.” I mentally ran through what I needed. “Knowledge of who hired the Changeling would be gratefully accepted. If you have it. If not… I would not dare ask for more.”
“Polite, aren’t you?” Rhiannon’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “Not like your last… three masters?”
“I believe you’re thinking of others. My second-last master was quite respectful. But I don’t think you met him,” Lily said softly.
“Oh, of course. I forget. You’ve had so many.”
My eyes narrowed at the barbed words, and I glared at the woman. Queen. Fae. Whatever. Bitch was better. But I kept my tongue in my mouth because Lily had warned me not to anger her, even as much as declining her invitation. Which Lily hadn’t said for the Mage Council.
“I know nothing of this Changeling’s activities. As I said, we have little to do with your world anymore. At least, not officially,” Rhiannon said. “Only a few things interest us these days.”
I stilled, wondering what she meant. But seeing that she had no information for me, I bowed again. “Thank you for your time then, Your Majesty.”
Rather than dismiss me, Rhiannon fixed Lily with a playful, indulgent smile. Like a cat staring at a struggling mouse. “Tell me, Aunt, have you told him who you are really?” At Lily’s silence, she turned to me. “Have you asked her?”
I shook my head before realizing I didn’t need to answer the damn woman.
When I opened my mouth to say that, she cut me off. “Of course not. Her masters are always in such a rush to use her powers, for their wishes, that they never ask what the price of those wishes are. Well, almost all of them.”
“I know the price, but Lily’s…”
Free? Even I could not say that word with a straight face. She had freedom, more than she’d had for many years, centuries, maybe ever since she was trapped in the ring. But she was not free. Content? Maybe. Though perhaps distracted was a better word. Distracted by games, my TV, by virtual reality and a million other things that kept her from thinking of, well, freedom.
For the first time, I considered how Lily might feel. Knowing that my death would send her to an abyss. Forever.
But even as I considered those words, Rhiannon spoke. “My aunt is not who you think she is. She was trapped not because she was too powerful, but for what she did. What she is.” Rhiannon leaned forward. “You see her as a friend. A confidant. Do not be fooled.”
“Rhiannon.” Lily’s voice was cold, angry.
The threat was clear, but Rhiannon ignored her. Ignored her because Lily was, in the end, powerless to do anything.
“You are quiet.” Rhiannon’s lips curled up, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “Good. You are listening. Then hear this, Mage. The one whose magic you use, whose knowledge you borrow? She is Lilith. Eldest of our kind. Mistress of magic, mother of monsters, the first rebel.”
“Oh, please!” Lily rolled her eyes. “Not those lies again.”
“Lies?” Rhiannon’s lips curled. “You are the one who formalized, who began the rituals of magic. Whose experiments created the first jinn from the very blood that flows through your veins. You destroyed towns and wiped out settlements because they angered you.”
“They tried to kill me!” Lily snapped.
“And they all deserved it?”
“Well…” Lily fell silent, shaking her head. “It was a long time ago. I was—”
“Powerful. A rival for the dragons themselves. And since then, you have grown only more powerful,” Rhiannon said, looking at my hand where the ring rested. “Trapped, perhaps, but each year, each decade, you grow in strength and knowledge. Refining your magic.”
“Now I’m being condemned for studying the only thing I can?” Lily said, clenching her fists. “Henry, I’m not—”
“You are. Lilith. And you’re friends with creatures from legends and have a goddess who calls you auntie,” I said, offering the jinn a half-smile. “I’m not dumb. I figured that one out a while ago.” As Lily’s jaw dropped, I turned back to Rhiannon and offered her a bow. “Thank you for your warning, Your Majesty. If that is all?”
Rhiannon’s lips tightened. The mouthy courtier stirred, looking at me predatorily but made no move. We stood there in silence as I waited for Rhiannon to dismiss me. Or attack me. Either or.
In the end, the bounds of tradition, of the fae’s word and their rules of hospitality, held. Rhiannon flicked her hand, sending me off, and I hurried away, only wiping my brow when I was out of sight. Perhaps she had considered killing me. Perhaps she had just intended to warn me. But I decided there and then never to return to Faery. Not without a lot more firepower anyway.
Beside me, a silent jinn walked. Until we stepped across the threshold and the ring’s bindings forced her to disappear once more. Leaving me in peace, but with doubts. For while I knew who she had been, the question of her fate rose once more.
As much as I liked Lily, there was a reason why she had been locked up. A reason why so many feared her. And a reason, in the end, for me to keep the ring to myself. Because at least I knew what I would do with it.