“Anything is possible at this point,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood at the table. Putting everyone at ease again will go a long way in helping repair their connection.
“You are already as vibrant as a butterfly floating on gossamer wings,” Acton reassures me.
Before I can respond, a server stops by with our food. Everyone’s dinner looks and smells delicious. I lean over to take a whiff of the bee pollen smoothie, a frothy concoction of sap from various trees as well as natural sugars, pollen, and honey. The combination smells pleasant, like it would make a nice scent for a candle. It is topped with pollen flakes and a sizeable chunk of raw honeycomb that Acton immediately plucks out of the glass and takes a big bite of.
We finally ease into more companionable conversation after our first few bites of food. I ask Walt who they ran into on their side of the street.
“Well, when we went to the garden store, they basically stole half my stack! Between all we’ve bought there and at their nursery, I guess we’re their best customers lately, what with the big back garden overhaul project. They offered to hand them out to customers!” Walt slaps his knee and laughs at the sheer silliness of it. “I didn’t have the heart to say no.”
“Well, they know how to keep their customers loyal!” I guffaw.
“The dance academy wants to host the election night party. They said they’ve been my biggest fans since I helped them organize recitals in the parks for their students who fly. I was too flustered to outright accept, but I told them I’ll consider it. That’s too much, right?” Walt questions.
“I remember how beloved those were,” Norrell chimes in. “The young students had tremendous talent.”
Acton cups Walt’s cheek in his hand affectionately, turning his head so they gaze at each other. “You have been a north star to many, even if you would never give yourself credit. Let them celebrate you, my overly modest mate.” Walt and Acton share a knowing smile and a peck on the lips.
“Then I believe we’ll have ourselves a party!” I gush, clapping my hands in glee.
Chapter 14
Norrell
Niven stops me in the upstairs hallway as he emerges from his room, Ada’s father’s study where I often spent hours in long conversations with him all those years ago. There is a gleam in Niven’s eyes, like he is primed for something.
“The warlocks’ hideout has been sighted finally. Their cloaking spell must have flagged for long enough that one of our flyers spotted it before disappearing again. If they had help with their escape, it seems to be running out. I bet we’ll get them within the next forty-eight hours. We’re keeping a close watch on that location, trying to pick up any magickal signatures. My team and l will escort them through the portal as soon as they’re in custody,” Niven explains animatedly, sounding fired up to question the attempted murderers.
We walk downstairs into the kitchen together. Niven starts the coffee while I unload the dishwasher and set two mugs on the counter. Then I fry some eggs and put bread in the toaster. Niven sits at the table, flipping through his notebook and begins writing intently.
“In case we need to leave quickly, there’s a lot I must accomplish in today’s session with the fae. Ashes, between how much of my magick it drains and how it affects Ada, I need tomake sure we’re as short and to the point today as possible,” Niven says, not looking up at me, still taking notes.
“We need to find out how to separate it from Ada and then we should rid our realm of it. The fae are always unsettling, even after dealing with many over the years. This one is beyond the pale,” I answer, taking the pan of eggs off the burner and plating them with the toast. I prepare a plate for Ada, who will be downstairs shortly. She will go to the clinic again this morning and then hopefully be able to work at her shop afterward if she feels up to it. Though the effect these short interrogation sessions have on her still fills me with dread.
When I set down Niven’s and my plates and pour the coffee, he breaks down his plan for the morning. Most of the session will again focus on Ada and the fae magick stealing her life. There is added pressure since he could be gone for a while depending on the outcome of the warlocks’ interrogations. And then the Yuletide season arrives.
The interrogation starts earlier than usual and with an even greater sense of urgency. Niven called Darla Rallis to join us again. She eagerly agreed and is in the room with us. As we have done for weeks, the team of witches lifts the wards as the fae is taken out of containment. I search for its pool of magickal power, letting it awaken and draw strength until it becomes threatening.
Niven’s focus locks in, his pupils expanding and darkening his green eyes as he wrestles for control of the fae’s mind. When he is satisfied, he begins the questioning. “Do you steal theethereal sparkof others every year at Samhain?” His use of the fae’s phrasing seems purposeful to elicit a better response.
The fae sounds more unhinged the longer we question it, like it loses its mind the longer we keep it warded. It is unconscious while in containment, so to the fae, this must feel like one long series of questions.
“Yes! Yes! Decades from each one before they perish. My life will be eternal!” the fae shouts gleefully in two voices, a child-like squeak and a wispy but distinctly masculine one.
“Alright, that answers another question I had,” he says to the room. “Does it matter if the victim possesses magick? Does that make their ethereal spark more potent?”
The fae giggles wildly. “I always savor the magick before it is gone. It takes extra effort to fight through it to get to their ethereal spark, but the payoff is sublime. It draws out the sweetness in their pain. And to be the last one to relish their magick before it extinguishes forever, it is glorious. It makes their ethereal spark so much stronger, particularly if the creature is powerful. Ada was one of those rare treats I will remember fondlyforever.” The fae punctuates its point with a chorus of soft and musical feminine tones.
“Why do you have to fight through their magick?” Niven presses, his physical stance turning as aggressive as his tone.
“Because it wants to preserve ethereal spark at all costs. Magick has an instinct to survive as much as the life form that wields it. That is the only challenge I must face when I snatch it for my own. The magick will fight and fight to banish the spell, but mine is stronger. Italwayswins,” the fae warns in a menacing tone delivered by that childlike voice again.
“What can reinforce that ethereal spark and let magick do its work to try to extricate your spell?” Niven has found that following the fae’s line of thought helps him dig for more detailed information. His magick seems to control the fae more smoothly with that approach, flowing with the twists of its mind rather than against it.
“More ethereal spark, so much more. Both magick and ethereal spark resist my pull, but once my claim on it has started it is nearly impossible to stopper. It takes more ethereal spark and magick than one creature can possess to break my spell. Noone haseversurvived it,” the fae sing-songs eerily in a deep bass vocalization.
“Are there known artifacts or relics that can boost Ada’s ethereal spark or magick enough to break your spell?” Niven asks, squinting in extreme concentration. He seems particularly focused on this question.
The fae attempts to seize its magick, as if about to cast a spell, but I absorb it well before it can do anything. It is desperately resisting this question. “Not many are known to me. They are all fae made, gifts dropped here long ago from another realm for the fae to use. Those who took possession of the ones you seek store them high in the sky where the Whispered Folk rarely go, where there’s plenty of wild magick to fuel their incredible power. The Banner of Life will grant ethereal spark from one into another. But it is known to kill those it pulls from if they are too weak. The Forged Ruby is the only substance that can absorb magick from one being and transfer it into another in a useable form. This gift has only been sparsely granted to this realm, so do not think you can easily find it.” The fae laughs maniacally in a trio of feminine voices.
