Idols and Enemies (Amplifier 4) Page 15

  Isa flicked his fingers toward me, no magic in the gesture. “A good witch?”

  I looked down, taking in the shredded dress hanging off me. The crisscross red pattern was still fading from my exposed skin.

  He leaned slightly closer. “Can you tell me what spell she hit you with?”

  I shook my head. “Some sort of pure energy.”

  “But masterfully channeled. Not just wild magic flung in a panic.”

  I nodded.

  “Wouldn’t you know?” he asked intently. “With all your training, all your … conditioning? Wouldn’t you know?”

  “I know now,” I said grimly, stepping away from him and the conversation. I was suddenly tired. Too much of my energy pumped into healing, perhaps. Aiden was waiting for me upstairs to assess the damage. And I needed to get the dress to Cerise so she could repair it before dinner.

  Isa’s energy was chaotic. His questions were intrusive. I just wanted to be peaceful again. At peace, happily.

  Opal’s smiling face appeared on the screen of the iPad. “Hi!” Aiden and I had cloistered ourselves in the study for our late afternoon check-in with the young witch, having just woken from an unexpected nap.

  A light-skinned teen was seated to Opal’s left, holding a small blue and gold box aloft. Her dark-blond, short-cropped curls were clipped back from her face, bobbing around her head when she moved. She was slim and slightly taller than Opal. A darker-skinned teen towered over both girls on Opal’s right. His dark hair was clipped close to his head. His dark-blue eyes were alert, intelligent.

  “This is Emily,” Opal said, nodding to her left. “And Jack.”

  “Hi.” Emily smiled, reserved. Perhaps nervous.

  “Jack Harris Fairchild,” the other teen said formally. “Witch. Son of Wisteria, the head of the Fairchild coven.”

  Adopted by the head of the coven, if I remembered Aiden’s primer on Opal’s friends correctly.

  “Oh, yeah,” Opal said. “I keep forgetting the etiquette classes.”

  “You do,” Jack grumbled. “You know there’s a reason for it.”

  Opal waved her hand. “Yeah, yeah, so we don’t go around attacking people who we might get into trouble for attacking.”

  Jack frowned. “That’s not it at all.”

  Emily hid a smile behind her hand, and I had to stop myself from doing the same. I could actually feel Aiden relaxing beside me, stretching his legs under the desk. He slung an arm behind me, leaning back. Grinning. Happy.

  But hadn’t we’d been happy a moment before?

  And relaxed? Before?

  We had. Hadn’t we?

  We had napped through tea. That was unusual.

  Aiden gestured toward me. “Emma Johnson. Amplifier. Mother of Opal.”

  The young witch centered on the screen grinned at me, displaying her crooked eyeteeth. “Adopted, but yeah.”

  The adoption hadn’t actually been formalized yet, but something sweet bloomed in my chest. I let it be, enjoying the warmth as I nodded toward Aiden. “Aiden Myers. Sorcerer. My … mine.”

  Aiden chuckled quietly. Then, covering my sudden inability to articulate myself, he said, “And what have you got there, Emily?”

  I blinked, focusing on the screen.

  Emily was still holding the small box aloft on her fingertips. She glanced nervously at Opal, then Jack.

  Opal elbowed her. “You go.”

  Emily bobbed her head, setting her curls tumbling. “It’s a soul vessel. Sealed.”

  “Hmm,” Aiden mused thoughtfully. He was clearly planning on playing along even though he’d already decided that the purloined vessel was a project, not an actual artifact of power.

  “We’re researching the inscription,” Opal interjected excitedly. “Like you said we should. So now we want to open it.”

  “I see.” Aiden flashed a smile at me.

  “Don’t look at me,” I said. “I’d just pry the lid off.”

  “You’d just leave it gathering dust on the shelf,” Aiden retorted playfully.

  I grinned. “Yeah, I would.”

  “Really?” Emily gasped. “You’d ignore it?!”

  Jack also looked aghast at this prospect.

  “Emma isn’t into this sort of stuff,” Opal said.

  “Necromancy isn’t really my thing,” I said agreeably. “It wouldn’t call to me.”

  “Not just necromancy,” Opal crowed. “It’s sealed with runes.”

  “And at least one witch spell,” Jack said.

  I glanced at Aiden, who smirked at me knowingly. A make-work project indeed. I settled my hand on his knee, and he covered it with his own. It was odd, I realized, how a conversation with Opal’s friends that would likely amount to nothing but empty chatter didn’t chafe me in the least — in contrast with how quickly my patience with the sorcerers and the witches was wearing out.

  “The runes?” Aiden prompted. “Have you worked out the core alphabet?”

  Opal pouted. “Not yet.”

  “You need a sorcerer,” he said. “And most definitely before you try to open it.”

  Emily and Jack grimaced.

  Opal sighed. “Really? They’re all, like, snobby bores.”

  “Yes,” Aiden said, completely serious. “A project like this takes time, patience, and the right players.”

  Opal huffed. Emily and Jack looked doubtful.

  “But you’ll look at what I have?” the young witch asked hopefully.

  “We,” Jack corrected. “What we have.”

  “We.” Opal rolled her eyes, then she was back to grinning at Aiden excitedly. “I took a picture. I’m going to send it to you along with what we’ve worked out, as an attachment.” She reached for the screen.

  “Wait,” I said, leaning forward. “What about your classes and —”

  The call ended.

  I slumped back in my chair.

  “And?” Aiden prompted. “What were you about to ask, Momma Amplifier? How they’ve been feeding her?”

  I glowered at him. I had been about to ask exactly that. Melissa at the Home Cafe had mentioned something about making sure Opal was getting enough protein and calcium just the other day, and …

  Aiden’s eyes were twinkling.

  “I’m allowed —”

  He leaned over and kissed me. “Yes, yes, my love.”

  I curled my fingers through his hair. “I don’t want to sit through dinner with your family. I know that’s idiotic, but …”

  He frowned, touching my bare collarbone. “It’s not idiotic. I still can’t wrap my head around that spell … or Cerise even being able to cast anything of that magnitude.”

  “You said you didn’t know her well. And the spell she’s got on Kader is really impressive.”

  He laughed. “Trust you to be impressed by a spell slowly draining the life from one of the most powerful sorcerers in existence — all the way from another continent.”

  “You’re totally impressed as well.”

  “Well, yes. But I’m a dark sorcerer.”

  “Dark, dark, dastardly.”

  He grinned wickedly. “Most definitely.”

  “I wouldn’t call him the most powerful sorcerer in existence to his face, though.”

  “Don’t worry,” Aiden said quietly, speaking mostly to himself. “He uses the title already.” Then he sighed, sitting back in his chair, gaze settling on the blank screen of the iPad almost mournfully. As if Opal had taken all the light with her when she’d ended the call. As if we were both struggling to remain focused, on task.

  That was an odd thought.

  A soft knock sounded on the closed door. “Dinner,” Ocean called through from the hall.

  Aiden looked at me grimly. “I reiterate …”

  “We can kick them out at any time.”

  He nodded stiffly, stood, and offered me his hand. “Let’s go reintroduce my parents.”

  I took his hand. His skin was warm and lightly callused. I stood, smoothing my dress. When I�
��d woken, I realized I’d forgotten to give the damaged dress to Cerise, so I was wearing a green cotton-and-silk sundress for dinner. “Maybe we should have had dinner outside, picnic style. Mitigate any damage the house might take.”

  “It’s too late now.”

  Paisley had disappeared again — possibly annoyed that there was no place set for her at the table. The table that had been purloined from the kitchen now occupied the dining room, and was twice as large as it should have been, even with the extra leaf.

  I wasn’t certain how I felt about my house being rearranged, or even about how the witches had commandeered the kitchen in the first place. But there were suddenly nine people to feed and I didn’t cook, so I shoved my unease away. Holding Aiden’s hand while wandering into the dining room helped.

  The centerline of the table was laden with platters of food. I spotted a chicken dish featuring meat falling off the bone, mushrooms, and small onions, all drenched in a gravy that stank of pungent red wine. There were mashed potatoes and a large green salad slicked with a creamy dressing. Cerise’s sourdough bread — clearly started and raised with a hefty dose of magic — rounded the meal out. Lots of herbs and butter in every dish. I glanced through to the kitchen as I moved toward an empty seat, spotting a series of cheeses on a cutting board and another platter filled with fruit.

  I didn’t recognize any of the larger serving dishes.

  I paused before the empty seat that would put my back to the open doorway into the kitchen, realizing that the only other seat available was across the far side of the table.

  Cerise was at the foot of the table to my left. Knowingly or not, she’d placed herself between or before all three exits to the dining room.

  The china cabinet that the previous owners of the house had left behind had been moved into the back left corner of the room. Courtesy of Christopher and Aiden, it now contained three china teacups and saucers in the Royal Albert black rose pattern.

  Kader Azar was sitting at the head of the table, at the farthest point away from any of the exits except for the window behind him. Isa sat to his left. An empty seat — obviously intended for Aiden — was on the elder sorcerer’s right.

  Ocean sat to the right of Cerise. Sky was on her mother’s left, next to Grosvenor in the middle. I then noted that someone had actually assigned the seats. I leaned over, seeing my name written in a curly cursive script on a little card set on what appeared to be a china rose. Personalized place settings. And again, unless the attic had suddenly yielded up more than Christopher or I had excavated, they weren’t ours.

  My seat placed me between Khalid and Ocean.

  Silence had taken over the dining room at my inspection of the seating arrangements. Still holding Aiden’s hand — his grip on the edge of being too tight, even for me — I leaned across the table and picked up my placeholder card. Then, nearly dragging my hair through the chicken dish, which honestly smelled terrible, I grabbed Grosvenor’s place tag, swapping it out for my own.

  Cerise opened her mouth.

  I looked at her.

  Just looked.

  And looked.

  She shut her mouth, peeved but quiet about it.

  Grosvenor stood up.

  I crossed around the table, taking his seat. Aiden settled into the chair next to his father.

  Wearing a dark tan suit, Kader was smiling, eyes downcast. He sat slightly away from the table, hands folded in his lap.

  Isa reached to his right and swapped his card for Khalid’s. His brother stood without comment, trading seats with Isa to sit across from Aiden.

  Sky then swapped places with Ocean, placing herself beside Grosvenor, and leaving Ocean beside me. That was interesting.

  And now no one was sitting where Cerise had placed them, excepting her and Kader. At least I assumed it had been her idea, based on her pinched expression.

  “If you are all settled,” she said haughtily. “We may begin.”

  Plates were passed around. Grosvenor served the chicken dish. But when Ocean reached to take my plate, I held it in place.

  “I’m happy with the salad and the bread,” I murmured, feeling Cerise’s gaze on me.

  When everyone was served, we started eating. I slathered what appeared to be whipped herb butter on a hunk of the sourdough, and tried to ignore that there was too much dressing on, and not enough variety of vegetables in, the salad. Too many herbs in the butter as well.

  Aiden pressed his knee against mine, eating while alternating his gaze between his father and mother.

  Kader nibbled on the chicken. “The coq au vin is delightful,” he said to no one in particular.

  That was the pungent chicken dish, I presumed.

  “I worked with what I had,” Cerise said stiffly.

  “Aiden didn’t mention that you were a vegetarian,” Sky said apologetically, speaking to me.

  “I’m not.”

  Grosvenor coughed, though he might have been stifling a laugh. This drew a sniff from Cerise. The curse breaker took a large bite of the mashed potatoes and made exaggerated pleased sounds.

  Sky lowered her head, hiding her smile with a bite of chicken.

  The curse breaker glanced around at all of us. Khalid had already cleared his plate. Like me, Ocean was just nibbling at a mound of salad. And Cerise wasn’t eating at all. For that matter, neither was Kader, though he was making a show of it, pushing the food around on his plate.

  Who ate what or when or how much really wasn’t any of my business. But I actually had to quash the impulse to get up and make the elder sorcerer a peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwich. Why I thought he’d eat that, I didn’t know.

  I stuffed another butter-laden hunk of bread in my mouth.

  “Jenni did well,” Grosvenor said.

  It took me a second to realize he was talking to me. I looked at him blankly.

  “Your … trainee?” He raised an eyebrow. “She found all of Sky’s planted magic, two spells of mine, and one of Khalid’s presets.”

  I’d forgotten. What with all the magic being thrown around in the kitchen, and getting hit by Cerise’s spell …

  I had just wandered upstairs and taken a nap.

  A nap.

  Leaving Jenni alone with sorcerers and witches she didn’t even know. Jenni, who was still really half in hiding.

  Interrupting the confusion roiling around in my head, Aiden said, “You had Jenni sniff out magic foreign to her? That’s a good idea. I’ll contribute next time.”

  “I’m surprised her pack didn’t train her,” Sky said. “But I guess she doesn’t come across many Adepts in a small town like this.”

  “She found your spells easily enough,” Grosvenor said.

  Sky shrugged one shoulder, not looking at the curse breaker. “I didn’t try very hard to hide them. I didn’t think that was the point of the exercise.”

  Sky was right. It hadn’t been the point. I was just trying to help Jenni build a database in her head. But again, even knowing how trivial the assignment was, it was completely unlike me to walk away from a training session, leaving Jenni exposed and —

  Aiden squeezed my knee. I had a feeling I’d missed some bit of conversation, or some question directed at me.

  “It was interesting that Jenni had a harder time with Khalid’s presets,” Grosvenor said, as if he might have been repeating himself.

  Kader was watching me with narrowed eyes. Then he turned that gaze on Cerise. I could feel the dark-haired witch stiffen under his regard.

  “Combat spells?” I asked, forcing myself to focus.

  Khalid nodded. “Just a basic charge, a disruptor, and —”

  Cerise grabbed the napkin off her lap and tossed it on the table. “How can you all just sit here?” she cried in a high-pitched voice. “Talking about … nothing?!”

  I frowned. Training Jenni wasn’t —

  “With him! Evil incarnate, just … just sitting there!” She jabbed a finger toward Kader.

  Everyone moved.


  Magic roiled.

  Multiple shields snapped into place.

  Grosvenor stood, grabbing Sky’s chair and dragging it back a few steps, taking them both out of the line of fire as he shielded her. Khalid’s chair actually slammed against the wall, leaving a dent in it. He stepped to his father’s side, placing a hand on Kader’s shoulder. A shield snapped up around them both.

  Aiden, beside me, and Isa, across the table from me, both stood. Each sorcerer placed one hand flat on the table and flung the other hand outward. A wall of magic snapped between the hands they held on the table — a dual shield, encompassing about two-thirds of the room, ceiling to floor. The magic slid outward, coating the table and all the items on it. Presumably so the food and plates couldn’t be used as projectiles.

  Smart.

  I wouldn’t have thought of that.

  But then, I’d never had a family dinner before.

  Isa’s outward-facing hand was stretched toward Cerise. A dark-blue spell of some sort glistened in his palm.

  Aiden placed his free hand on my shoulder. I felt a cool shiver of power coating me.

  Her reaction more delayed, Ocean jumped to her feet, chair falling back. She placed herself at the corner of the table, next to her mother. She was holding a small round bottle in each hand, pulling the cork stopper of one out with her teeth.

  Whatever was in the bottle smelled foul.

  Only Kader, Cerise, and I remained seated.

  Magic slashed through the dining room, encasing us in a strained silence, on the edge of violence. Sorcerers versus witches. Sky had stepped away from Grosvenor, her eyes glowing light blue.

  And I was in the middle.

  A look of what I thought might be satisfaction flitted across Cerise’s face as she stared across at Kader. A hint of that third eye — just a glimmer of light, really — winked open on the witch’s forehead, then disappeared. The elder sorcerer’s face was utterly blank. Bored, even.

  Then he turned, looked pointedly at me, and smiled. As if he knew I was only a breath away from charging in and settling everyone down with a mere brush of my fingers.