That’s what I told myself, anyway.
I’d spent a fair bit of time experimenting with different spells to alter my appearance. I knew changing myself as much as I had was probably overkill. Bones kept saying I didn’t need to do much, but then he’d also mentioned the need for me to come in disguise at least three times, and also reminded me to wear my mother’s pendant.
Given that, I guessed he felt a little paranoid, too.
Rather than risk it, I changed more than my hair, which I turned dark red. I made my eyes brown after experimenting with a few other colors, and gave myself a longer neck, and smaller breasts. I tweaked my nose, mouth, cheekbones, and forehead until I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror. I thought, if nothing else, I’d have Bones grade my transmorph skills, something he’d mentioned more than once in relation to defensive magic.
I also fastened the chain of my mother’s crystal around my neck.
I still wasn’t entirely sure how the magic in that crystal worked.
Bones told me there were a number of chimaeric spells woven into the stone that made my magic difficult to see. He said when he went lower in his magic, my aura looked strange, like I didn’t have much magic at all. He said at other times, when he’d looked at me while I wore it, I’d actually looked like someone else, or even blended into my immediate environment.
I knew it didn’t block my magicentirely,as that would likely make me more conspicuous, not less. I also knew the effects were more variable than I’d initially thought, and that I didn’t look the same to everyone.
Bones thought the chimearic spells likely adjusted their masking properties depending on where I was, who was trying to look at me, how close they were to me in the physical, and even what their intentions were. He also thought the crystal would likely make it impossible for most Magicals to read my mind, or evenseeme, particularly if I wore it in a fight.
He’d called the magic in it “uniquely beautiful.”
Bones himself could still read me, of course.
His strange magic meant the crystal was basically useless against him.
I pushed him out of my mind as I walked, crystal or no. It seemed to take a long time for me to cross the entire west wing to reach his tower.
By the time I finally saw the rounded bottom of the turret, and the narrow, dark corridor at its base, which I knew hid the only door inside, it was already half-ten. Bones had told me the corridor and door were magicked in such a way that he’d know I was there, and he’d come down to fetch me once he felt me arrive.
For the same reason, I just stood in front of his door, waiting.
My hands clasped my arms as I shivered from the cold.
I should have worn a coat, or at least my cloak. I’d left both things upstairs, in that abandoned toilet, with the rest of my regular clothes.
I’d just started to fidget when the door opened abruptly in front of me.
Bones stood there, and I could only stare when I saw him, a little taken aback when I glanced down his body. A collared shirt hung open on his shoulders, leaving the scars of his chest visible, along with the fainter hieroglyphs that formed a curved crescent below his neck. His hair looked mussed as if he’d just woken up.
He stared back at me, his eyes strangely flat, holding a light I didn’t recognize.
I smiled, and started to walk forward, but he didn’t move.
He remained standing solidly in the door’s opening.
I came to a stop.
When I met his gaze again, puzzled, but undeniably blocked by his immovable stance, I caught him staring at my breasts in the low-cut top, then my legs below the short skirt. He stopped on my high heels, then his eyes rose back to mine, and he quirked an eyebrow. A faint smirk appeared at his mouth, right before he inclined his head with an odd grace.
“My, my. What have we here?” His eyes returned to my cleavage. “What a delicious little present you are. Did I order you on special delivery for the evening?” His smirk widened. “I do have good taste, don’t I?”
I frowned, studying his face. “Bones, it’s me.”
“Oh, I know it is, sweetling.” That smirk grew more prominent as his eyes rose to mine. “What a profound regret it is, that I am forced to turn you away this evening.”
“Turn me away?” I frowned, now puzzled for real. I glanced back the way I’d come, almost wondering if we were being overheard. Had he seen someone I’d missed? Had I been followed? I lowered my voice.
“Bones, what are you talking about?” I asked. “Let me in.”
His fingers made a shooing gesture where they gripped the black door.
