Aidan
When Aidan awoke, the room was dark, dancing in shadows cast against a blue fire in the grate. His stomach clenched with pain, and he realized he had not eaten or drunk anything in quite some time. He smelled the remnants of a meal, and wondered if he had been asleep for days or merely hours.
The air was charged, causing the back of his neck to prickle with dread, though there were no signs of immediate danger. Still, it felt like he was being watched.
Aidan took catalogue of what he observed. Slaíne slept next to him in the bed, her Pull reassuring and strong. Last they had spoken, they had fought. Aidan shook his head at the memory. Was he being too stubborn and unforgiving? I’m not. His feelings for her remained unchanged, but it would take a long while before he accepted what she had done to him. He moved his attention away from her and looked about the room. Even though the room was dim, Aidan could make out every detail of his surroundings, something he credited to his strange new abilities that he had not sorted through yet. Everything was exactly as he remembered it. Nothing had moved. And yet something was wrong.
He sat up and dangled his legs over the edge of the bed. A breeze met his toes, which he curled, before lowering his feet to the floor. Careful not to wake Slaíne, Aidan padded toward the window. The drapes had been left open, letting in extra cold air. Not that it bothered him. Still, he took one look into the dark, listening to waves crash against the rocks below and the wind whistle through cracks between the windowpanes, before closing the heavy curtains and turning back to face the room.
“Who’s there?” he said more to himself than anyone else.
In her sleep, Slaíne mumbled something and reached out to where he had been lying. When her hand met no resistance, she rolled over to his side and at once began to snore.
Aidan took to prowling about the room. There were no human Pulls that he could find, but there lay a heavy presence nearby, one that was most decidedly unfriendly. Summoning the silver sword into his hands, Aidan moved toward the door. Something or someone was out there.
The door shook on its hinges, startling Aidan and nearly causing him to drop the blade. He drew in a steadying breath and closed his eyes, seeking the source of the Pull. Ah, it was a weak one, and it had changed in substance since he had last felt it, but he was certain he knew it. His eyes flew open, and he considered opening the door and facing the creature, in whatever form it might choose to take, but he remembered that he had not just himself to think of. “Slaíne,” he said.
She stopped snoring but said nothing.
Aidan looked over his shoulder and saw that she had sat up, but her eyes were barely open. I don’t know how, but the shape-shifter has followed us here somehow, he thought at her, hoping his words would reach.
Slaíne groaned. “That’s not likely. Come back to bed. Or better yet, eat somethin’. You was asleep all day yesterday after your…fit.” She frowned in the darkness.
Ignoring her concern, Aidan approached the door, one hand outstretched to open it, the other holding the sword, ready to strike. There was a gentle rapping at the door across the hall where the Pull had retreated.
“Lord Ingledark?” asked a woman’s voice, one that Aidan recognized. “Are you in there?”
A floorboard creaked beneath Aidan’s bare feet, and the Pull across the hall moved closer. “Who’s there?” Aidan asked, keeping his voice steady as he unbolted the door and prepared to turn the knob.
“Aidan, what are you doing?” Slaíne demanded.
Before he could open the door, it flew open and nearly hit him in the face. He was thrown backward, as if by an invisible hand, and missed hitting his head against the wardrobe by a hand’s breadth. He sprang to his feet, Calling the sword back into his hand, as he had dropped it during his fall.
There, standing across from him, was the wizard Hex. But the Pull was all wrong. The creature leapt at Aidan, who lashed out with his sword. The being was fast, but he didn’t have Aidan’s skill set. Without hesitation, he Summoned his copper knife and Repelled it away from himself directly at the other’s chest. The knife froze inches from the shifter’s face— no, Slaíne’s face.
“Aidan,” the real Slaíne screamed.
The shape-shifter mimicked her cry perfectly, turning Aidan’s skin to gooseflesh. It reached for the knife that hovered midair, but Aidan Dismissed the blade. “No, Slaíne. Don’t engage it. I know this creature’s Pull.” You won’t be able to tell the difference should he take my form.
Once more the creature shifted its shape, now taking on the form of Jinn before changing its mind and transforming into her giant of a brother. He lashed out at Aidan with great strength and speed, nearly striking him.
Aidan felt the breeze the creature’s fist had made. He swung around with the sword in response, but again the blade was blocked by an unseen hand. Cursing, Aidan Dismissed the weapon and charged at the shifter-giant.
The creature caught him midair by the throat, and tossed him aside like he was a rag doll, and went for Slaíne. There was a knife in the shifter’s hand now, a thin cruel blade that had no Pull.
Aidan stumbled to his feet and latched on to the creature’s Pull, attempting to Call him. It had only ever worked with Slaíne, something that didn’t seem to have changed now. He only managed to slow the shape-shifter, having successfully latched on to the Pull of a glove on his hand. That gave him enough time to run and launch himself at the creature, only to be flung back. “Run, Slaíne. I can’t stop him.”
Slaíne threw herself out of bed and flew right up to the ceiling, drawing a frustrated huff from the shifter.
“Watch out,” Aidan cried as it threw the knife at her. The blade missed her by a foot and embedded in the wall behind her.
Seeing that its one weapon was out of play, the creature looked at the door and began to flee. Aidan was going to let him go, but the door swung shut and barred itself.
“Why did you do that?” Aidan and Slaíne asked each other at the same time.
Now the shape-shifter was trapped with them. It grinned before shifting back to Slaíne’s form, prowling slowly toward Aidan. “Wrong wizard,” it said, cocking its head to the side. “It will have to suffice.”
“Stay up there,” Aidan warned Slaíne, trying to think of something, anything he could do. For some reason, he had been unable to land any blows on the being, who seemed to have no such limitation. If he could not attack, then Aidan knew he would have to at least defend himself until help could arrive.
“Aidan, you need ter—”
Whatever Aidan needed to do, he did not hear over his own ragged breathing and the roar of the shape-shifter who came at him in Slaíne’s form. Aidan Summoned the sword again, effectively blocking the creature’s fist from connecting with his head.
The shape-shifter skidded backward, as if repulsed by the blade.
It was disconcerting seeing such hatred and malice in Slaíne’s likeness, but Aidan tried not to let that distract him. Experimentally, he held out a hand and tried Summoning a curtain rod at the shape-shifter. Like the sword before it, the object landed harmlessly inches from the creature’s feet.
With a great snarl, the shape-shifter lifted the rod and tried using it as a weapon against Aidan, who simply Dismissed it. “You’ll tire soon enough,” the shifter promised.
Aidan did not doubt that. Being turned into a wizard had taken its toll on his body, and he knew himself to only just be on the road to full strength. He needed to think of something quickly.
Fly, you great idiot, Slaíne shouted into his mind, disorienting him for a moment. A moment was all that it took for the creature to get past his defenses.
The shifter kicked the sword out of Aidan’s hand and punched him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of his lungs. As Aidan tried to launch himself at the ceiling, hoping that this time he would be able to make flight work, he was seized by the leg and thrown against the wall. Stars swam before his eyes as he tried Summoning the sword.
Again he lashed out and the blade skidded off harmlessly. Aidan was going to Dismiss it and then Summon it, but the creature’s hands were around his throat, strangling him.
Slaíne shrieked and made to fly at the attacker, but Aidan held up a hand and Repelled her back to safety. The creature might have been able to land physical blows and block air from reaching Aidan’s lungs, but it was not having quite the obviously desired effect.
It was strange; he was not breathing and could feel the pressure on his neck, but it did not hurt. No spots formed in the corners of Aidan’s vision. His lungs did not burn.
With a furious scream, the shape-shifter released Aidan’s throat and shifted into a new shape that had knives for nails and tried stabbing him.
Uncertain if the blades could harm him or not, Aidan threw up his arms to protect his neck and face, and a blinding flash of green light filled the room. He blinked and lowered his hands, wondering why the creature hadn’t attacked. What he saw confused him.
The shape-shifter was suspended mid-jump in what appeared to be a large bubble, which pulsed green and shot out strange little bolts of light every time the being attempted to move. “Strange,” Aidan mused as he pulled himself to his feet.
“He manages impossible magic and all he can say is ‘strange’?” Slaíne scoffed as she lowered herself from the ceiling. “Not a wizard, my hide.”
Aidan ignored that. “Do you think Hex sent it to kill us?”
The beady-eyed man’s mouth worked furiously as he tried to wriggle free from the small prison. Aidan felt a slight prickling under his skin every time the shifter attempted to move, and it occurred to him that it was his own magic actively powering the transparent cage.
“Doubt Hex had anythin’ to do with it,” Slaíne said with a shrug. Her eyes narrowed. “Though, I’d like ter know what we’re doin’ under the same roof as it.”
Aidan couldn’t agree more. “What should we do with it?”
“If we can’t kill it, we should at least take it to Hex and demand he do something. Can’t go ’round all the time with one eye o’er our shoulders, can we?”
“Agreed.” He reached out a hand toward the bubble, which responded by floating away a few inches. “I guess that answers the question of how to move it.”
Despite the late hour and the peril, Slaíne gave him a smug smile and led the way out of the room and down the hall, where they were met by the wizard, who appeared most disheveled. “How did he get past me?” were his first words.
Slaíne glared and pointed her finger in his face. “Keeps company with a murderously evil creature and wonders where he went wrong.”
Hex’s face darkened, but he did not rise to Slaíne’s bait as Aidan knew he would have. “Forgive me. I thought I had him under control.” Before Slaíne could hurl more insults and accusations at him, the wizard reached out and tapped the bubble, which faded from green to red. “Welch, you’re henceforth banished from ever setting foot in the House of Curses. Should you attempt to interfere with me and my company again, may my deadliest of curses be on you.”
The creature seemed to shrink and then disappeared with a loud popping sound.
“He was meant only to keep you from breaking the curse,” he said to Slaíne, earning a low growl from the she-wizard. “He failed there.” Hex gave Aidan a rueful glance. “He wasn’t supposed to try killing anyone, though.”
It was Aidan’s turn to urge caution. Slaíne, remember that we don’t know all he’s capable of.
She gave him a sideways glance. “Why’d you do it?” she demanded, ignoring Aidan’s concern. “Why curse me and then set that creature against me?”
“Because I didn’t know how else to deal with your power,” Hex said evenly. “By the time I found out you even existed, you’d nearly killed your adopted parents twice. In fact, I thought you were responsible for their deaths, until I discovered Meraude’s involvement.”
Slaíne began to shake. “I nay ever hurt them.”
Aidan watched Hex and was sad to see the truth in his eyes.
“It was an accident,” Hex reassured her. “But you were too dangerous, nonetheless.” He motioned for them to follow him into the adjoining room, but neither Aidan nor Slaíne were inclined to move. The wizard’s shoulders sagged. “I meant to raise you myself and used the curse as a precaution.” He sighed heavily. “You got away from me shortly after, and the elves were there. I tried getting you to come with me, but the elves took advantage of the terms of the curse.”
Tears rolled down Slaíne’s cheeks, and she did nothing to wipe them away. “You sayin’ I went with them o’ my own will?”
Hex nodded then frowned. “We had fought, if I recall correctly. You were only five and five hundred years—”
Aidan’s eyebrows rose in alarm. “Five hundred years?”
The wizard put up a hand to waylay Aidan’s questions. “You were very young and wanted your own way. The elves seemed to promise that, so you chose to go with them. I had no choice but to flee before they, and you with them, could overwhelm me.”
Slaíne regarded him for a moment, and the tears stopped flowing. Now she swiped at her nose angrily, and looked over at Aidan, who didn’t know what comfort he could offer such suffering.
I’m sorry.
If she had heard him or not, Aidan was uncertain. Slaíne’s expression hardened and she turned away from both of them. “So ya sent your shape-shifter to keep watch o’er me? No, that ain’t right.” She clenched her hands into fists. “You made sure I stayed cursed so I could harm no one else, is that it?”
The wizard was quiet.
Slaíne turned, and her eyes glowed an unnatural blue. “Tell me!”
“You were and are a danger and a menace,” he said without emotion. “You’re lucky that what you did to Aidan didn’t kill him.”
“I knew it wouldn’t,” she spat back. “I know my own power.”
Hex stared back at her, unmoved and unconvinced, apparently. “Transferring part of your soul should not have worked. It never has even been attempted before.” He shook his head. “You are too young and impulsive. Aidan didn’t deserve to be put through this hell, no matter what you feel for—”
Aidan’s hand shot out as if of its own will, and a blast of green light flew out of his fingertips, stopping half an inch before the wizard’s face as it pulsed threateningly. “Don’t,” he growled, “attempt to speak for me.”
The wizard’s face paled in the light, and his eyes grew wide with surprise before narrowing. “So you’ve accepted your fate? Welcome.” He pushed the ball of light aside, and it faded away as Aidan realized he could not harm Hex. “Go back to bed. You both begin training in the morning.”
* * *
Aidan slept very little that night. When he did manage to rest, he dreamed of Slaíne wandering alone, weeping as she wiped blood from her hands that could not be cleansed. Weary and wound tight, he rose before the sun.
The thought of training as a wizard made Aidan ill at ease. He could refuse, surely. But why would you want to do that? asked a nagging voice in the back of his mind. Deep down he knew he should use every advantage he had against Meraude and Hex. “This isn’t natural,” he found himself saying and then felt foolish. Nothing about him had ever been natural.
When the nymph queen had stabbed him in the shoulder with the ice knife – Nitchoo – Aidan had seen visions of his past. If those visions were to be believed, Aidan had been conceived and born inside the confines of the Circle, a cult that had apparently bred men and women to have offspring with magical abilities from the Goblets Immortal. His parents and uncle had escaped somehow, but Aidan was the product of that treachery. Meraude had found them years later and killed Lord and Lady Ingledark, along with Aidan’s younger brother, Samuel. At least, Aidan had believed this to be true. Now, pacing the room, he had time to piece together facts that he had had little time or inclination to before.
After defeating Lord Dewhurst, the man who had framed Aidan for murder, Aidan had found Lord and Lady Ingledark’s somewhat decomposed bodies on the estate. “How were they only partially decayed?” he wondered aloud, causing Slaíne to stir slightly. More than twenty years had passed since their deaths. The bodies ought to have been dust.
Aidan Summoned a water bladder and took a swig of tepid drink. Then he froze. Had Dewhurst kept them alive that whole time? But for what purpose? He knew that Meraude and Dewhurst had forged some kind of alliance. If the Ingledarks had been kept alive that whole time, Aidan had failed them worse than he had at first imagined.
“My fault,” he gasped, and the pain was too great to bear. He collapsed to his knees and clenched his hands into fists.
It was there, despair washing over him as he tried to find release in tears that would not come, that his inner friend gave him a gentle nudge. Aidan. Salem’s voice was faint and yet hoarse, as though he had been screaming for some time. And then, it was silent.
Aidan shook his head and Dismissed the water bladder, which had dropped onto the floor. Morose, he watched as the water from the vessel pooled on the floor. This is why you need to train. If you don’t keep busy, your thoughts will eat you alive.
Swiping angrily at his nose, Aidan stumbled to his feet. But his thoughts were not done with him. He could still see his mother lying there in Dewhurst’s stables, her honey-blond hair splayed out around her…. How was it possible that she had looked so young? A new idea came to Aidan, one that made his stomach churn but at the same time lifted a weight from his shoulders. When Slaíne had killed the guards holding them captive at Lord Dewhurst’s manor several weeks ago, Aidan had Dismissed their bodies. He was unable to Dismiss anyone that was alive – save for himself and Slaíne – but once a person’s life force left them, they had less of a Pull anchoring them to Existence. Perhaps Meraude had murdered his parents all those years ago and Dismissed their bodies for some reason. Nothing decayed in Nothingness.
But how did they end up on Dewhurst’s estate? Meraude was nowhere near us at the time…or was she? And was Meraude also a Summoner? Maybe Hex would know.
Now he felt a little better, though there were still too many questions paddling around in his mind for him to get back to sleep. He looked back at Slaíne, who remained in a deep sleep. He could feel the whispers of her troubled dreams lap against his own thoughts, but was able to shut them out without too much difficulty. There was nothing to be done here in this room, and now that Slaíne’s curse no longer set a boundary of how far they could be apart, Aidan needn’t worry about hurting her in that way. Perhaps it was time to do some exploring of his own.
But Aidan hesitated. Last night, he had unbolted the door, accidentally letting the shape-shifter in. If he left now, there would be no way to keep Slaíne safe from whatever remaining horrors lurked in the House of Curses. The solution came to him almost instantly. With one more look at his mate, Aidan closed his eyes and relaxed, Releasing all of the Pulls around him. He first focused on detaching himself from the small, inanimate things: the blankets on the bed, the rugs on the cold floor, and then moved on to bigger things, such as the bed and the washtub and wardrobe. Then there was Slaíne’s Pull to contend with. It was stronger now than ever, and Aidan had trouble for a moment as he tried separating from it. Then, grasping success quite unexpectedly, Aidan left Existence and entered Nothingness.
In the past, he had never been able to see or even move in the land between the mortal realm of Existence and the land of the Beyond, but now he found himself standing in what appeared to be a large storeroom full of all the things he had sent there. In a tidy stack sat the papers he had managed to take from Dewhurst’s manor: clues and maps to the different Goblets Immortal. Those were perhaps useless to him now, as Hex had two of the five at least. Aidan turned from the papers and looked around. There was the silver sword, the bronze sword, which he had taken from the shifter when they had first met weeks upon weeks ago, and odds and ends strewn among hay and tanderine blossoms. With sadness, he remembered his horse, Triumph, which had been taken from him by goblins.
Now that he had taken catalogue of what he had in his cache, Aidan focused on returning to Existence, outside the door. When he had returned from Nothingness with Slaíne the other week, there had been little difficulty in landing exactly where he had planned. This time, he felt a strange pressure in his chest as he tried to return, and put a hand over his heart. Slaíne’s soul-half was writhing just there, causing him pain.
Aidan returned to the room in Existence with a great grunt. He was startled to find Slaíne standing right in front of him, awake and screaming his name.
“What happened?” she said with a great sob upon seeing him, and then threw her arms around his neck.
Bemused, Aidan returned the embrace and patted her awkwardly on the back. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Slaíne stiffened in his arms. “What?”
“What?” was all Aidan could think to say in return. Apparently he should have offered something more than that, because Slaíne pulled back and glared at him.
“Ya wanted to scare me?”
Confused, Aidan shook his head. “No.” He stretched the word out for an uncomfortably long time, earning him another dirty look.
She swore at him. “Then what were you doin’? Where were you?”
“I Dismissed myself.”
Her expression shifted to confusion. “What? Why?”
“To keep you safe,” he said, feeling dumber with each spoken word. Aidan shook his head. This was going poorly. He tried again. “After the shifter attacked last night, I didn’t think it wise to leave the door unbarred, and since I wanted to explore….” The look on his mate’s face made him stop.
“So you were goin’ ter leave me without warnin’, attempted to Dismiss yourself to the other side o’ the door, and nearly gave me a heart episode in the process? Blimey, Aidan, what were you thinkin’?” She reached out and grabbed him again.
Well, that was irritating. “So you’re allowed to leave me sleeping and locked in, but I attempt anything similar, and there’s hell to pay?” Anger bubbled hot in his stomach, and he found himself trying to pull away. “I think there are a few things we need to sort through, Slaíne.”
But Slaíne was having none of that. She held him tighter still, as if reassuring herself that he was not gone for good, though he could feel the heat of her anger in the kiss she pressed against his lips. “You could have warned me.”
If he were not so angry, perhaps he would feel guilty. As gently as he could while still seething, he extricated himself from Slaíne’s embrace and stormed toward the door.
“What are you doing?” she shouted, her relief giving way to rage, apparently. A wall of flames burst forth in front of Aidan, forcing him back.
He shot a glare over his shoulder at Slaíne, who was shaking, her face drawn and pale. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean….” As she spoke, the blue flames sputtered and died out into nothing, leaving behind a metallic tang in the air that tickled Aidan’s nose.
Aidan didn’t spare her another look before stepping over the thin pile of ash on the floor, his spine rigid and his steps louder, heavier than what was necessary. He ignored her, even as she called his name, storming through the doorway before slamming the door shut behind him. Only when he heard a raw, tortured sob from the other side of the door did he hesitate. His anger cooled for a moment, before the embers of it were fanned into flames again. She had made him what he was, and now she sought to control him.
She loves you, you idiot, whispered the fair part of his mind. You worried her.
He brushed the thought aside. Since he had become…whatever it was that he was now, Aidan had noticed his temper rising to the surface oftener. It was as if something inside him had broken and was trying to bind itself together again with whatever strong feelings he could find within himself. There was the very strong compulsion to strike something.
With a frustrated grunt, he continued onward, blind to the riches surrounding him. With each step he took, it felt more and more like he was wading waist-deep in honey. Slaíne’s Pull, normally a comfort, now chafed at him. His pace quickened. He needed to get away and sort through things.
Suddenly he stopped. He had become aware of a Pull nearby, one that he recognized slightly. Unaware of whether or not the familiar presence was friendly, Aidan darted behind a marble pillar, and waited for it to pass.
“Hello?” asked a deep, rumbly voice. “Jinn? You behind pillar? Please don’t play games.”
Aidan knew that voice, but he couldn’t place it for a moment. Covertly, he peered around the pillar and at once remembered the giant of a man who had attempted to capture him after the whole ordeal at Cedric’s tomb. Last Aidan had seen him, the giant had been turned into a bird by Hex. Ally or rival? Aidan couldn’t decide.
“Jinn? Please.” The giant’s Pull was moving closer to Aidan’s hiding place; he needed to make a move quickly.
Rage all but forgotten, Aidan ducked around the pillar and into clear view of the large man. “I don’t think we have properly met.”
The man blinked and stared. “You’re the Summoner.”
How should he respond to that? Aidan nodded. “You grabbed me.”
“Yes, Quick did. Where sister?” As he did not make a move toward Aidan, Aidan did not Summon a weapon or Dismiss himself.
“Is your sister Jinn?”
“Yes,” said he. “You know where she is?”
Aidan shook his head. “Not at the moment.” It was alarming, the height of the man. He had to stand over seven feet tall. Aidan was not used to being the shortest person in a situation. “Why were you and Jinn looking for me, Mr.…?”
“Quick,” he rumbled in reply. “You are…?”
“Aidan.” Aidan extended his hand, the giant stooped, and the two clasped forearms. Aidan repeated his first question, earning a shrug from Quick.
The giant gave him a suspicious look for a moment, and that emotion ironed out into confusion. “Quick doesn’t know. Jinn always makes plans.” He scratched his head. “Quick thinks it is about Mother. Jinn does not like Mother.”
“Hmm,” Aidan murmured in what he hoped was a consoling tone. “Mothers can be problematic.”
Quick nodded with enthusiasm. “Oh, yes. Mother is a very big problem.”
This isn’t going anywhere. But Aidan remained, knowing that the man’s sister was a potential ally. “What do you know of Meraude?”
For a moment, the man stood there blinking and looking this way and that. “What else were we talking about?” He considered Aidan through squinted eyes. “You are not very bright.”
Aidan sighed. “I’ve been accused of worse, I suppose. We were talking about Meraude, were we?” The gears in Aidan’s head turned. “Wait. Meraude is your mother?”
A great blush crept up Quick’s face and neck, and he hemmed and hawed a bit. “Was not supposed to tell you that. Oh dear. Don’t tell Jinn that Quick told.” He looked about, as though his sister might pop up out of nowhere and scold him. He leaned down and whispered in a conspiring tone, “Mother’s bad. Jinn says you won’t help us if you know.” The giant leaned back and regarded Aidan for a moment.
That complicated things. If he was telling the truth, and he seemed too simple and honest to speak anything else, why would Jinn seek him out? Why tell him about Meraude’s army? It made no sense. “So Meraude is your mother.”
Quick looked away.
“Not a very good mother, I’d wager,” Aidan said, testing the waters. When the man did not answer but cringed ever so slightly, Aidan tried a different approach. “Do you love her, your mother?”
The giant shrugged and looked down. “Quick supposes.”
“Quick?”
“Yes?”
This would have to be said with care. “I need to know what side you’re on. If you stand with your mother, we might— you, your sister, and I might stand at odds.” What a strange conversation to be having in the middle of a cursed house. It almost drove his fight with Slaíne out of his thoughts – almost.
Quick’s brow furrowed, and as he began to speak, his overlarge hands swung through the air in a frantic gesture. “Quick loves Jinn more. Jinn does not love Mother.” His shoulders heaved. “Jinn thinks Quick is stupid.”
Aidan waited as patiently as he could for his potential ally to speak, all the while aware that he needed to make better use of his time exploring the house. Anything he said, however, might break the spell of the moment, so he kept his lips pressed together.
At length, the man said, “Jinn wants Mother dead.”
“And what do you want, Quick?” Aidan asked, trying to keep his tone neutral.
Quick seemed to consider that for a moment and said, “You are the first to ask that.” He hesitated. “Quick does not know.”
That was enough to work with. Aidan felt around, making certain Hex’s Pull was nowhere nearby. He could sense it, right next to Jinn’s, but it was faint, meaning the wizard was far enough away. “And what do you know of the Goblets Immortal and the Blest?”
“Quick is Blest. Jinn is Blest. You are Blest too, Quick thinks.”
Aidan nodded; he would not get into how complicated that was now. “Which Goblets does Meraude have?”
For a moment, the man hesitated. “Would Summoner be angry if Quick didn’t know?”
“That is a shame, but I wouldn’t—”
“Drifting and Enduring,” he said, ticking the two off on his fingers. “Mother wants Questing Goblet.” Quick pulled a face. “Then Mother will do whatever it is she wants.”
Thank any powers above that there was no such thing as the Questing Goblet. Aidan did not mention it, however; some cards should be played close to one’s breast. “And what is it your mother wants to do?”
The question seemed to bring Quick up short. He regarded Aidan with a wary eye and then shrugged. “Jinn not know, Quick not know. Summoner does not know either?”
Aidan sighed. “I can guess. She hates all magic-kind, besides herself, so why not kill all of us?”
Now Quick was laughing, a great booming sound that echoed down the empty hall, causing Aidan to wince. “She not hate all magic-kind. Just bad ones.”
“Bad ones? And who, to her, are the bad ones?”
But it would seem he had lost the giant’s interest. Quick looked around, a frown upon his face. “Where is sister?” He walked past Aidan and began to call out.
At once Aidan hushed Quick, earning an annoyed look in return.
“Why be quiet?” the man asked.
Aidan frowned. “I don’t think we should be found together. In fact, tell no one but your sister that we met.”
“All right.”
Thoughts racing, Aidan started again to ask Quick for more information about Meraude and her plans, but the man was walking away from him. With a frustrated grunt, Aidan gave up trying. “Your sister is the other way,” he said, causing the giant to pause. “You’re going the wrong way. Jinn is with the wizard, and they are quite a ways down this hall.”
Slowly, the man named Quick turned on his heels and trudged in the direction Aidan had pointed him in. “Thank you, Summoner. Happy meeting,” he said with a tiny wave.
Aidan left the giant and hurried down the hall in the opposite direction, for the first time trying to take in his surroundings better. The floors were a polished onyx, and though early day’s light streamed in through several windows, torches sputtered and stuttered in their sconces on the walls.
We are on a cliff, he reminded himself. The way that they had come to the island was peculiar: Hex had picked a doorknob out of somewhere, placed it in front of him, turned it, and opened an invisible door into a blinding white hallway. Is that the only way to get here and leave? If so, where does he keep the doorknob?
Strange Pulls tugged at him left and right, all of them nonliving but still almost just as much a distraction. Aidan ducked into a small sitting room full of ruby-red chaise lounges with gold thread spun along the borders. He closed his eyes and reached out, searching for anything that felt like a doorknob. Unfortunately, doorknobs, like most other nonliving objects, had no real different Pull from that of an inkwell or something else of a similar size. He might be able to tell the difference between a coatrack and chair, but without being familiar with the specific item’s Pull, there would be no Summoning or Dismissing it without study. With all the rooms in the mansion, there were surely many doorknobs. Finding the right one would take patience and a thorough investigation of the place. As it was, he didn’t have the time. The sun had cleared the horizon, and morning had arrived; Slaíne would become even more worried, and Hex would be perhaps sending for them both.
Still, Aidan was reluctant to return, the memory of the fight churning his insides once more, though not as strongly. He kicked at an area rug in frustration, exposing the worn floorboards beneath. Aidan cocked his head to the side. His temper cooled again as he tried to take in what suddenly nagged at him. The area surrounding the boards didn’t seem heavily traveled. Why was this square area so worn?
Aidan kicked away the remainder of the rug and trod across the exposed boards. They creaked beneath his weight, and he could swear where there ought to be the Pulls of supporting beams beneath, there was only empty space. He frowned and got onto his hands and knees. Squinting, he could only just make out the outline of what might turn out to be a trapdoor. There was no time to go exploring, however. Aidan stole a quick look around and re-covered the area. The next time he was alone, he would have a look; now, to learn some magic and perhaps make amends with Slaíne.
* * *
When Aidan returned to the room, Slaíne was not there. He sensed her Pull a ways down the hall but did not pursue her. It was she who should seek him out, after what she had done. Telling himself he was glad to have some time alone, Aidan stripped and took a cold bath in the new tub in the corner of the room. Having toweled off and dressed, he found a shaving kit in the wardrobe and gave himself as close a shave as he could. And while he was at it, he took a knife and cut a few inches off of his hair so that it was now just below his ears.
Feeling human once more, Aidan decided to ignore Slaíne’s absence and the wizard’s promise to train him, in favor of exploring again. He had just tugged on his boots and was approaching the door, when he noticed a folded bit of parchment lying in the entryway. That was strange. He hadn’t noticed any human Pulls approaching the door while he’d been cleaning up. Wary suddenly, Aidan nudged the parchment with his boot toe and picked it up. It read:
Breakfast is in five minutes. Follow your senses to the dining hall. Tardiness is frowned upon. Looking where you ought not is punishable. – Hex.
As soon as he had read the signature, the parchment began to crumble into dust in his hands and then blew away on a sudden breeze. Aidan turned from the door. Something deep within him rebelled at the thought of answering a summons as if he were some mere dog. On the other hand, he hadn’t eaten a decent meal in a while, and there might be answers over shared bread.
Hunger won over pride, and he went in search of Slaíne to convey the message to her. He followed her Pull to another room a few doors down and knocked. There was no answer. “Slaíne?” he said, trying the doorknob. The door didn’t budge. “The wizard has sent for us. We are to eat breakfast and then you can train.” There was no response, nor any stirring within. He hesitated and swallowed even more of his pride. “I’m sorry my temper got the better of me.” Now he was beginning to worry. Again he tried the door, this time throwing his shoulder against it, wondering if it was merely stuck. Then he heard a low sigh, and he knew that she was at least conscious. Troubled, he pressed his ear up against the door but heard no other sound. “Come, let’s forget this morning and break our fast together. Surely you’re famished.”
Sweet relief flooded him as he sensed her Pull moving nearer to the door. He thought she would open it and emerge, but her Pull stopped.
“Slaíne? Are you hurt?” Should he break down the door and make certain she was all right?
Hearing his thoughts, Slaíne hastily said, “Go to breakfast. I need some time alone.”
Aidan frowned. “You sound…odd. Is everything all right?”
Again she sighed. “Yes. Go. Just go.”
“All right.” Still he hesitated. Was this some sort of test? If so, he was bound to fail it, no matter what he did. His heart gave him a painful twinge, as though he had something to feel guilty about. What that might be, he couldn’t imagine.
He turned his back to the door and went in search of Hex, aware that more than five minutes had passed since he had received the note. The House of Curses sprawled out in many directions, one hallway connected to another, leaving Aidan in doubt that it ever ended. Though his sense of Pulls had changed, he still was able to pinpoint the wizard’s and followed it around the corner from where he had left Slaíne, down a long hall, and up a short flight of stairs past empty suits of armor and flowing tapestries, to the outside of a closed wooden door. He raised his fist to knock.
“You’re late,” said a voice on the other side of the door, which creaked open. “Come in and be seated.”
Teeth clenched, Aidan fought his misgivings and forced himself into the room. The room was three times the size of the one he was staying in with Slaíne, and had a full wall of windows on the southern wall on the left, giving him a clear view of the ocean. In the middle of the room sat a dark wood table with high-backed chairs seated around it. Hex faced Aidan and thus the door, his expression wary. On his right sat Jinn, arms folded and face stony, and on his left sat Quick, who was too busy stuffing his face full of eggs and ham to wear any expression whatsoever.
“You’ve met Jinn,” the wizard said as Aidan continued to stand there. “And I wonder if you have met her brother, Quick.”
“A pleasure,” Aidan muttered as dread dropped down into his stomach like a stone. The air prickled with magic and danger. His hairs rose on end and he fought down an animalistic growl that was clawing its way up his throat.
Hex’s eyes seared into him and then looked back at Jinn, as if he were trying to solve some difficult puzzle. “Please, be seated.”
Slowly, Aidan moved and took a seat on Jinn’s other side, hoping to remove any suspicion that he had been talking with her brother. “Thank you.”
The wizard waved his hand, and Aidan’s plate filled itself. “I take it she isn’t feeling well this morning?”
Aidan stiffened. Please, no small talk. “Slaíne’s as well as one could imagine.” After your man tried to murder us both last night.
Hex inclined his head and lifted a small chalice to his lips, regarding Aidan over the rim. “Will she be joining us for training?”
Aidan did not like the way the other was watching him, and his questions nettled. But he knew he needed nutrition if he wanted to remain strong and able to escape at a moment’s notice. Unless the food was drugged or poisoned….
The wizard was still watching him and let out a humorless laugh. “Eat. I haven’t poisoned anything.” He looked meaningfully at the giant, who was downing a tankard of something that might be small beer. “Besides, poison is a woman’s method.”
Next to him, Jinn let out a huff and gave Aidan an annoyed look. They both knew that the wizard was trying to pit them against each other.
Still, Aidan explored the Pulls of the ham, eggs, hash, toasted brown bread, and beans. Nothing felt out of the ordinary, so he reluctantly raised a forkful to his mouth and chewed with trepidation.
Hex sighed. “You really do trust no one, don’t you? Well, except for the she-wizard, and look where that has gotten you.”
Aidan narrowed his eyes and swallowed the piping-hot mouthful of food. He’s testing your temper. Training a rage-filled wizard would be dangerous. Biting back a retort, Aidan explored the Pulls in his own tankard of small beer and, finding them to be safe, he took a small sip.
The wizard gave him a curious look and drained his chalice. “What did you two fight about?”
“What business is it of yours?” Aidan said coolly. Stay calm. He’s baiting you. Aidan was then hit in the face with a spray of small beer, which had just exploded from the tankard in front of him. Shocked and dripping, he turned a glare at the wizard, who merely shrugged and refilled his own glass as if nothing had happened.
Jinn, however, was staring at Aidan as though he’d sprouted another head. Even Quick gave him a dubious glance before attacking the remainder of food on his enormous plate.
“I heard you two shouting, felt a pulse of magic leave one of you, and then there was much stomping of feet and slamming of doors. You really ought to keep a check on that temper of yours.” He gave Aidan a meaningful look and took a bite out of his toasted bread. “What happens under this roof is my business, you see.”
Mind games, Aidan thought with a rueful sigh. It was too early to attempt to match wits. Wiping the sticky beverage from his face with his sleeve, he froze when the wizard said, “Dismiss it.”
Aidan blinked and said without thinking, “Liquids don’t have Pulls.”
Hex shrugged and took a sip again from the chalice. “You’re thinking like a Summoner, Aidan.”
“I am a Summoner.”
“No,” said the wizard calmly and slowly, as though he were speaking to a particularly dense child. “That’s not even half of it. Try.”
When he realized Hex wasn’t going to relent until he at least attempted something, Aidan shook the remaining small beer from his hair, closed his eyes, and was about to search for the liquid’s non-existent Pull, when something hot and greasy hit him in the face. His eyes flew open, and he looked down at the sausage now sitting on the table in front of him. “What are you playing at?” He swiped at the spot where the meat had struck him.
The wizard gave him a puzzled look and returned to eating. “Are you unwell?”
Quick let out a bark of a laugh, pounding the table and sending the plates jumping. “This is amusing. Do it again.”
Jinn looked back and forth between Aidan and the wizard, her expression confused. Apparently still subdued, she said nothing and took a dainty sip from the chalice in front of her.
Now Aidan kept his eyes open and on Hex as he tried to Dismiss the small beer from his face and shirt. At first he could sense nothing besides his shirt and his own body, but after a moment he could swear there was something else. He blinked and tried to Dismiss whatever strange Pull he was feeling, but a piece of buttered bread collided with the side of his head, effectively distracting him. Calm. Remain calm. Aidan Dismissed the bread and was prepared to Dismiss the butter from the side of his face as well, when the ham on the platter in front of him rose slowly in the air before him. Before it could strike him, Aidan Dismissed the meat as well, only to feel something cold and wet spill down the back of his neck. He didn’t have time to register what it might be when all manner of food and drink started to fly at him. Some Pulls he Dismissed, others he Repelled, trying to be mindful of the other guests at the table so that they would not be struck. But as soon as he sent an object away, another filled its place.
Finally, having had enough, Aidan slammed his hands down on the table, and everything froze. Bacon was suspended midair, along with a stream of small beer and globs of red jam from a golden tureen. Plates and specks of food hung between him and the other guests. Aidan let out a stunned breath, and everything vanished, except for the sharp knife he felt hurtling toward him. Aidan reached out and plucked it from the air before it could strike his neck.
Sticky and bewildered, Aidan looked over at the wizard, who was studying him approvingly. “Now Dismiss the small beer,” said Hex, handing a clean napkin to Jinn, who was also covered in the morning’s meal.
Rising, Aidan did as the wizard said without batting an eye.
“That is all for now. Training will resume this afternoon.” A slow smile spread across Hex’s face. “I suggest you clean up some time between now and then.”