Sloane woke the following morning with a dry mouth and a pounding head. She shielded her eyes from the morning sun and groaned, rolling off the sofa onto her feet. The case board stood in the middle of the floor, and markers were scattered about, reminders she had worked into the early hours of the new day. She capped the Hyde bottle, grabbed her dirty glass, and staggered to the kitchen.
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, and she felt Dorathea before she saw her. “Why did you open the drapes? Never mind. Why are you here?”
Dorathea washed dishes at the sink and turned to her. “Good morning to you, too. You are late for training, so we decided to wake you.”
“Of course, you did.” Sloane poured a cup of coffee and rested against the island. “Why didn’t you get me up?” she asked Elvina.
The familiar sauntered over to her. I left early to help Dorathea. You wouldn’t have heard me over your snoring.
“Me? The way you rattle the shingles. I should’ve known you weren’t a cat.”
Dorathea picked up a pastry box tied with a lavender string and eyed Sloane from head to toe. “When you are finished bantering like an old married couple, Elvina and I will leave to the covenstead while you change into something—clean.”
They disappeared before Sloane could respond. After she dressed, she walked to the hobbit house. The front doors opened, and she slipped inside. “Thanks, Alfred.” The door slammed behind her, and she stared at the ceiling. “Jesus, you make one wisecrack…I said I was sorry.”
The covenstead was thick with incense and busy with zozzing books, whirling and whizzing gadgets, and beakers with globular bubbles popping open and releasing colored steam. Dorathea and Elvina sat in the velvet chairs by the fireplace. Its heat warmed Sloane’s face. The familiar was licking a paw covered in powdered sugar.
“Those look delicious. Are they from Freya’s?” Sloane sat next to Elvina. A coffee carafe floated in the air and poured her a cup.
“Yes, indeed. I met with the Grand Coven this morning. And Elvina visited her mother.”
Sloane turned to the familiar. “Whoa. How’d that go?”
Elvina’s whiskers twitched, sprinkling powdered sugar on the chair. She hasn’t brought herself to ask me where I’ve been for the last fifteen years.
Dorothea raised an eyebrow. “Really? How curious?”
“Don’t think you’ve gotten away with anything. I know mothers. The interrogation will come.” Sloane let out a gruff laugh and helped herself to an almond croissant. “Oh, yeah. Before I forget, Rose heard you last night. I thought we agreed you wouldn’t spy on me.”
Rose didn’t hear me, dear. I had no reason to guard you. Dorathea and I were together until late last evening.
Dorathea set her teacup on the table. “I believe I know who Rose heard.”
“Who?” Sloane asked.
“The crows, pet.” Dorathea peered over her glasses. “I suspected they might be Ġewende defenders. The Grand Coven confirmed my suspicions.”
“What the hell is that?”
Ġ ewende are shape-shifters, dear.
Sloane stared at Elvina. “Seriously?” Sloane gulped her black coffee. “Why are they watching us?”
“I believe they seek to destroy the same Demon we have detected.”
Sloane chewed her croissant slowly as she considered the ramifications. “So a Ġewende is in Denwick.”
“You are correct.”
“And you don’t know who it is?”
No one does, dear , answered Elvina.
“And the Grand Coven won’t tell us?”
“They denied my appeal. They will not reconsider without evidence that the individual is involved. It is up to the Ġewende defenders to detect the evil Magical or the Demon.”
“That’s bullshit. How the hell do we protect others or ourselves if we don’t know who’s here? I’ve studied Jane’s research. I think she knew another magical family was here and was narrowing in on who it was. I think she suspected back then what is happening now.”
“If she did, she did not tell us. But we must proceed along this line of inquiry carefully. As I told you before, Jane’s interest raised suspicions among the Grand Coven. They summoned her to appear before them and forbade her to continue.”
“Tell me exactly what happened,” Sloane said.
“There’s not much to say. The Weardas learned of her research and informed the Grand Coven. Nathaniel and I brought her before them. She was only seventeen, but they were ready to make an example of her flouting the Concealment Act. They demanded she relinquish any documents she had on magical families. But she told them she had destroyed everything.”
“No surprise. She lied,” Sloane said.
“Yes, indeed.”
“We don’t need to lie. We need to make our case to the Grand Coven again. I still think the guards at Drusnirwd may have made a mistake.”
Dorathea looked up at the ceiling and shook her head.
“Just hear me out,” Sloane said. “Does the prison allow visitors?”
Of course. Banished families can have distant relatives visit them, but only one at a time. And no one else. The magical abilities of all who enter Drusnirwd are blocked , Elvina said.
“She is correct. Banishment is a punishment felt as deeply as death.”
Sloane paced in front of the crackling fire. “Let’s explore the idea that one of the banished families had a child and hid the baby. Now, its descendant is back for revenge.”
Every magical species records the births of their children, dear , Elvina said.
Sloane stopped. “Who recorded mine?”
Dorathea and the familiar stared at her. Then each other.
“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Sloane paced again. “Only someone with a God complex would believe a plan is infallible. They aren’t. We make plans as sound as we can. But someone smarter will come along and expose their flaws. Make them better. It’s the natural order of ideas.” Sloane paused before saying, “Can prisoners and visitors have sex?”
Elvina laughed. I hardly think sex requires magical powers. At least not for most.
“My point is it only takes one visit to walk out with the start of a new generation.”
Elvina stopped laughing.
“There are rules in place to prevent such an event. Nevertheless, you posit an interesting theory. I will bring your questions to the Grand Coven,” Dorathea said.
“What makes you think they’d tell you if they knew?”
“They have no reason to lie to us.” Dorathea stood, wrapped her emerald-green cloak around her, and glided to the lectern.
“All right. You keep trying to get the Coven to cooperate. I’m going to take another look at Jane’s research.”
“Very well. Join me. It is time to begin our lesson. Today, you will learn to bestealce , the location spell.” She waved her hand, and the Book of Hagorúnum opened.
Sloane climbed on a stool next to the lectern.
“We conjure the location spell through intense focus on place. Place is where we are and where we desire to be at any given moment.”
“Oh my God, this is going to be unbelievably cool.”
“You are learning to bestealce for protection, not so you can impress yourself or others. Indeed, if your life is in danger, you will no longer fight. You must bestealce to Freya immediately.”
Sloane winced. “Why her?”
She is the most formidable sensor of magic or evil in the Northwest Quadrant, and we trust her completely , answered Elvina.
“I thought we were Protectors. Why do you want me to run?”
“At this time, you are no match for the evil that seeks to end us.”
“Even with Elvina?”
It takes a coven to eliminate a Demon, dear. The familiar leaped into her seat next to the lectern.
“Yeah. Aren’t we a coven?”
The familiar’s tail swept to and fro. More like half a coven.
“Elvina, please,” Dorathea said and turned to Sloane. “Trust me. We are unprepared to battle a Demon. Our priority is to keep you safe.” She flicked her wrist, and the book’s pages turned. “To bestealce requires splitting our vision. Do you find it easier to see from your third eye now?”
“Yeah. It’s gotten easier,” answered Sloane.
“Quite, right. Keep practicing.”
Dorathea conjured a cloudy image between her hands. The image swirled into focus. In it, Dorathea stood at the lectern and sat in one of the velvet armchairs in front of the fireplace. She separated her hands, and the image split apart. “When I cast the spell, I simultaneously visualize myself standing here while also seeing myself sitting there.”
Dorathea disappeared and reappeared in the armchair. “Now, you try.” She glided back to the lectern. “Begin with your eyes closed, then open your third eye. See yourself here and by the fireplace.”
Sloane closed her eyes. A palette of blurred colors, like the beginning of an Impressionist painting, slowly came into focus. “I see us.”
Excellent, dear , Elvina said. And the chairs?
“Yeah. They’re clear as mud.” Sloane opened her eyes. “Is that all? No Old English to learn for this spell?”
Of course, there is. Elvina’s snout disappeared into her teacup.
“The location spell’s incantation consists of two words, lecgan lāstas ,” answered Dorathea. “Repeat after me, Lek-gan lah-stos.”
“Lakgahn lahstohs.”
Elvina lifted her head. Almost. You sound better. Are you practicing the language?
“Old English?” Sloane laughed. “Not hardly.”
Try again , Elvina said. Lecgan lāstas.
“Lecgan lāstas,” Sloane said.
“Well done,” Dorathea said. “Remember, our tongues have memories. Preserve this spell upon yours. Repeat it several times a day. But right now, continue to speak the phrase.” She snapped her fingers and their tea reappeared on a table next to the lectern. She poured them another cup and listened to Sloane practice.
“All right. I’m done chanting like a Gregorian,” Sloane said after a while. “What next?”
Dorathea placed her cup on the side table and pointed to the top corner of the page. “See here, spells with this sigil require our most intense focus. To divide your third eye’s vision is no easy task and must be done precisely, or the consequences are severe.”
Sloane thought about the dragon and held out her hands. “Wait a minute. Like what?”
Elvina shuddered. Imagine if you tried to go next door but weren’t focused. Parts of your body would remain here, and others would appear there.
“Jesus. The spell can tear me apart? How do you fix that?”
“Our powers can heal most injuries, but not all, pet.”
“Whoa. You think I’m ready for this?”
“I would not teach you if I did not.”
“All right. Let’s do it. Where first?”
Nowhere, yet, dear , answered Elvina.
“She is quite right. First, you will practice focusing your third eye until you see yourself here and there.” Dorathea pointed to the armchairs.
Sloane stared blankly past the chairs for a few moments, then blinked, shaking her head. “It didn’t happen. The colors in my head are overwhelming. I need sunglasses in there.”
Elvina laughed. You sound so much like your mother.
“It will take time,” Dorathea said. She waved her hand over the teapot, and steam rose from its spout. “Try to focus on different areas of the covenstead if that helps.”
Nearly an hour passed before Sloane held an image of herself on the stool and in the armchair closest to the fireplace, but not without frustrated outbursts. And finally, she shouted, “I did it. I saw me here and there.”
“Excellent,” Dorathea said. “Now, hold the image again. This time when it is clear, articulate, lecgan lāstas. Remember, speak the words clearly, precisely, and only if your place is focused.”
“All right.” Sloane closed her eyes and concentrated. A few minutes later, she cast the spell, but nothing happened.
Try again , Elvina said.
Sloane repeated the words several times before closing her eyes. “Lecgan lāstas.” She disappeared and reappeared in a chair. “Oh my God. That was incredible.” Sloane turned to them, her heart racing.
The corners of Dorathea’s mouth turned up. “Well done, pet. Now, think of yourself there and here, next to Elvina.”
“All right.” She took only a moment to clear the image in her third eye and visualize her place. “Lecgan lāstas.” Her body jerked, and she fell into the dark void, but instead of her feet touching the covenstead’s floor, she reappeared in her New York apartment beside the bay window. “Oh, shit,” she whispered and patted her body. “Okay, I’m all right. No problem. I’ll just go back before they notice I screwed up.”
She closed her eyes and focused when whistling came from her bedroom. Her eyes flew open. She dropped to her knees, crawled behind Jane’s desk, and peeked toward the hallway.
Wearing light-blue silk pajamas and a creamy face mask, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips, Gary Prence sashayed into the living room. He set a watering can on the kitchen counter and strolled to the front door.
“Ahight, you beautifuls. I’ll be back in a couple days to dust each of yus’ precious tiny leaves. Keep growin’ and stayin’ gorgeous. Au revoir.”
Sloane waited until the lock clicked and then rolled onto her back in a fit of muted laughter. She and Gary had emergency keys to each other’s apartments. But she never considered her lack of a green thumb a crisis.
Lavender and sage still perfumed her apartment, masking the crime. She noticed the missing armchair and the bullet hole in the wall behind her desk. The apartment left her with a dull ache. Remembering Dorathea wanted something Jane had touched recently, she grabbed a photo and vase from her bookcase and closed her eyes, picturing where she stood and where she wanted to be in the covenstead. When the image was clear, she said, “Lecgan lāstas.”
A floating book smacked her on the head. Elvina’s laughter filled her mind.
“Very funny,” she said as she joined Dorathea and the familiar. “Okay, I can bestel—”
Elvina shook her head. Be-steal-ce, dear. It’s not that hard to say.
Dorathea took hold of Sloane’s arm. “Where did you go?”
“At the last second, I messed up my image of Elvina and ended up in my apartment.”
Dorathea released her. “Did you see or sense anyone?”
“No one important. Just my neighbor. But he didn’t see me.”
She exhaled. “Very well, pet. You must keep practicing but be careful. Only travel within the same room and do not focus on spaces that remind you of New York. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, no problem.”
What are you carrying? Elvina said, looking at Sloane’s hands.
Sloane held up the picture. “It’s a photo of Jane and me from this past Christmas. She gave it to me a few weeks before her accident.” She stared at the urn tucked in the crook of her arm. “And this is Jane.”