The Fairytale Curse (Magic's Return Book 1) Page 23

  “And your point is—? That’s what it’s meant to do. You said the collar did something else as well.” And you implied it was something bad.

  He shook his head wonderingly. “You truly are ignorant, aren’t you? Do they not teach you how to think in those schools you go to? You have latent powers, yes? Very strong ones, too, if I am any judge of these things. They have lain unused because there was no aether to make use of. And now there is. In you.”

  My God. He was saying I was a walking vault, full of the raw material of magic. And that my “powers”, whatever they were, were now within reach. I sucked in a shaky breath. From latency to what? Magician? Mage? Someone who could turn a bear back into a man?

  “Is it any wonder your warder friends were so quick to get that collar on you, before you discovered what you could do?”

  “That’s not true. Dad was trying to help us. To get rid of your stupid curse.” And now these Sidhe bastards had punished him for it. I clung to the truth. It was the truth, wasn’t it?

  “Of course he was.” He smiled agreeably. “And if it also suited his other purposes, why, who can blame him?”

  “I don’t believe you. I can’t do magic.”

  “Ah. But have you tried?”

  Well, of course I hadn’t. The thought had never even occurred to me. Why would it? He watched me, patient as a cat stalking a bird.

  “I don’t know how to,” I said at last, drawn into the conversation despite my best intentions. Go back to bed, my conscience insisted, you know the Sidhe are liars. But conscience stood no chance against the onslaught of curiosity. How could anyone be expected to walk away from a conversation like this? He was making so much sense. And the possibility that he was right, that I might be able to work magic and save Dad, took my breath away. I would do anything to have my father back.

  “It’s like everything,” he said. “It takes practice, but once you have the way of it, it feels as natural as breathing. Do you have something small? A hair clip? A coin?”

  My hair sprang free in wild curls around my head. It should be obvious even to a man that there was nothing restraining it. I felt in my pocket for a coin and my fingers brushed something. I pulled it out: the little origami bird Miss Moore had given me at the market, red and gold and intricately folded. Funny, I’d forgotten all about that.

  “That will do very well,” he said. “I cannot demonstrate, since the aether lies within you. Only you can access it. You must imagine this bird changing colour, becoming a green bird perhaps, or pink. Something quite different from its reality. See it in every perfect detail. Some think magic is a matter of willpower, but they are wrong. Magic comes from the heart. You must pour your heart into this little bird, and if your heart is true, the bird will follow your heart’s desire.”

  Right. Pour my heart into an origami bird.

  He smiled a little at the look on my face. “Don’t be discouraged if nothing happens on the first try, or even the hundredth. Your power is like a muscle that must be exercised to make it strong.”

  Okaay.

  What are you doing, you idiot? Don’t listen to him! But I had to. How else was I going to help Dad? I stared at the bird, feeling like an idiot. How did you communicate your heart’s desire to a piece of folded paper? Part of me suspected he was pulling my leg, and any minute now would burst out laughing at the poor foolish human who thought she could do magic. But the other part … Magic. He was saying I could do magic.

  By now I had a good handful of diamonds, so I shoved them into my pocket and took a deep breath. Concentrate.

  I frowned at the bird, focusing on it until I felt myself going cross-eyed. Come on, bird. Be green.

  Nothing happened. The paper stayed resolutely red.

  “Not like that,” Puck said. “Not with the will. With the heart.”

  I eyed him suspiciously, but he still kept a straight face. I sighed. The beginnings of a headache gnawed at my temples. With the heart, then.

  Please, little bird. I would love you to be green. I longed for green, the fresh green of maidenhair fern uncurling, the deep emerald glow of the beautiful dress I’d worn to the formal. The look in Zac’s eyes when he saw me in it. I ached for a drop of green, no more, just a drop, to prove that there was something special in me, that I wasn’t just a distant second to CJ’s glittering first all the time. Something that would bring that look to Zac’s face again. Something that could free Dad from his curse.

  The smell of burnt toffee filled the room. Inside me, something … shifted. With a rustle of paper, the origami bird lifted from my hand.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  The bird blazed with a sudden blinding light, and I fell back against the wall, hands raised to shield my eyes. A gust of air buffeted me, the sound of wings loud in the silence. Squinting against the glare I saw Puck stand, and something moved at his feet.

  Then the light faded, and I saw a black bird, bigger than a crow, pecking at the manacle around his ankle. A raven? Sparks flew out of the lock and the manacle slipped to the floor with a metallic clunk. Oh, shit.

  I lunged for the door, but the bird flew at my face, driving me back. The damn thing pecked me in the head. I screamed and lashed out with my fists. I felt feathers and claws, and then a lucky blow connected squarely with its body and I knocked it aside.

  I leapt up, arms raised to protect my head, but the bird darted from the room. Puck was gone. I staggered out into the main room in time to see the double doors swing shut.

  “Hey!”

  I sprinted after him, flinging the doors wide, and nearly tripped over the body of the guard sprawled across the floor. The doors crashed back against the wall, and Puck looked back as the noise echoed off the walls and grinned at me. The bird flew ahead of him. I stopped to check the guard’s pulse; it was strong, but he was out cold. Puck must have done something to him. Hopefully we didn’t have another Snow White on our hands.

  Puck took the fire stairs and I leapt up. The guard wasn’t going anywhere, which left it up to me to stop him, though God knows what I could do if I managed to catch up. But I had to try. He was so fast. He burst out of the stairwell on the ground floor as I took the steps two at a time. I chased him down the corridor to the foyer. Where to now? The automatic doors that led out on to the street were locked for the night.

  I saw him there, silhouetted against the sliding glass doors by the light coming in from outside. Trapped. I slowed down, now, finally realising the futility of the chase. What could I do? Ask him nicely to come back to his cell? I was very conscious of the dark, and how alone I was in the still corridors. Everyone else in the building was asleep.

  “Well, I enjoyed our little chat.” Something was wrong with his silhouette. He was shrinking, changing shape. “Thank you so much for your assistance.”

  Behind him the doors whispered open and somewhere behind me an alarm began to shrill. He turned and bounded into the street, a strange, stunted figure now. The raven cawed harshly and winged after him. I ran to the door, but already he was at the corner, moving with superhuman speed. Chasing him was pointless.

  My heart was pounding. The running, the fear. I put my hand to my head and felt blood where the raven had pecked me. I backed away from the doors and they slid shut. The clanging alarm was making it hard to think, but I couldn’t just stand here. People would be coming. Dena and Bryan were sharing the guest quarters with us, and Dorian would be in his rooms.

  I couldn’t let them find me here.

  My whole body started to tremble with reaction. I’d just turned a piece of folded paper into a raven. And that raven had somehow used magic to pick the lock that was holding Puck prisoner. What would they do, those warders, if they found out I was capable of doing that? What would they think if they knew I’d aided Puck, even unintentionally, in his escape? Would they even believe that it was unintentional? After all, I’d been creeping around down there at two o’clock in the morning, sneaking past the guard, who was now conveniently unconscious
. It was going to look pretty suspicious.

  And it wasn’t as if hiding my part in it was going to hurt anyone. The fact was, he’d escaped. How didn’t really matter.

  I felt a sudden great longing for Mum. She’d believe me. She’d know what to do now. But she was on the other side of the world, and I had to handle this on my own.

  I had to hide somewhere. Probably the first thing they’d do would be to check the prisoner. When they’d gone down there I could sneak past and pretend I’d been in my bed the whole time. Except …

  Oh, hell. The diamonds.

  My pocket was full of them, but I knew I’d screamed when the bird attacked me. Had I said anything? I couldn’t remember; it was a blur of panic. But even a scream would have produced a diamond, and if there was a big fat jewel sitting in the middle of the empty cell, I might as well just hand myself over now.

  I ran back to the fire stairs and headed down to the basement again. My legs felt weak and wobbly, as if they couldn’t support my weight. My bare feet slapped against the concrete steps. Time was not my friend.

  No one else was in the stairwell yet. How long would it take them to wake up, realise what the alarm meant, and head down here? I hurdled the guard’s body and skidded across the main room. My eyes were well-adjusted to the dark now.

  The lamp still burned in Puck’s cell. A single black feather rested in the middle of the floor, right next to a fat diamond. I scooped them both up and put them in my pocket. Then I got down on my hands and knees and checked under the bed, to see if I’d kicked any under there in my tussle with the bird. There was nothing, but when I turned to leave I spotted another one behind the door.

  I swooped on it and headed out, but halfway across the big room I heard the hollow bang as someone slammed the door to the stairs. Oh, no. The room was cluttered; I dived behind a desk and crouched there, trying to control my breathing.

  I heard running feet in the corridor, then a muttered exclamation as they found the guard. My mouth was so dry I couldn’t swallow. Someone came in; I saw feet go past my hiding spot. One of the men.

  “Oh, my Lord.” Bryan’s voice. Then he ran out into the corridor, shouting for Dena.

  She obviously wasn’t on this floor; the door to the stairs thudded closed again.

  I scrambled out from behind the desk. I didn’t want to be here when they came back. They might have a better look around.

  I ran down the corridor, heart pounding, expecting that damn door to open again any minute and the warders to pop out and catch me here red-handed. But it stayed closed, thank God, and I ran past it, trying office doors as I went.

  I found one that was unlocked and let myself in, locking it behind me. I fumbled my collar back on, my hands shaking so much it took three tries to get the clasp done up. What should I do? I couldn’t use the stairs, and I daren’t try the lift, but I had to get back up to my bedroom. What if Dorian was up there now, checking to see CJ and I were all right? I shuddered.

  There was no other way up.

  While I hesitated the stairwell door banged open again. This time two sets of feet pounded down the corridor towards the vault. I eased my door open and risked a peek out. Bryan and Dena disappeared around the corner.

  I chewed my lip for a moment, but there was really no other choice. I had to risk it. I took a deep breath and bolted for the stairs on shaky legs.

  I made it into the stairwell. Concrete steps had never looked so good. I grabbed the door and eased it closed behind me. As I did, I heard Bryan’s voice in the corridor again.

  Another second and I would have been caught.

  The stairs were quiet. No one here but me—for now. I took them two at a time, thankful for my bare feet. I made no noise as I sprinted upward. When I was almost at the top I heard the basement door open and Bryan begin to climb.

  As slowly as I dared, I turned the handle of the door to level 1, trying not to make any noise as I opened it. There was no time to check what was on the other side. I stepped through, hoping I wouldn’t come face to face with Dorian.

  No one was there. I pulled the door shut, again trying to make no noise as I turned the handle, but the lock made a faint click as I closed it. It couldn’t be helped. I was out of time.

  I was outside Kerrie’s room when the door to the stairwell banged open, so I turned and grabbed her door handle. Bryan checked at the sight of me.

  “I was just going to see if Kerrie was okay,” I said. “Why is the alarm going off? Is there a fire?”

  “No. No fire.” His face was set in grim lines as he came over and opened the door himself. We both looked in. Nothing had changed. Kerrie still lay sleeping the sleep of the dead. “Our prisoner has escaped and the seeker on duty is hurt. Dena’s with him now, and I’m checking everyone’s okay up here. The Sidhe will be long gone by now. We won’t find him.”

  Sergei had slept through the excitement. We could hear his snores from the corridor, but Bryan still opened his door and had a look.

  “Where’s Dorian?” I was surprised he hadn’t showed up yet.

  “He went home for the night to see his wife. He’s not usually here on the weekends, just lately, with everything that’s been going on … Rebecca was starting to miss him.”

  Wow. I hadn’t even known he had a wife. And she actually missed him! Just goes to show there really is someone for everyone. He didn’t seem like a family man. I’d just assumed he lived here permanently.

  Back in the guest quarters, CJ was standing uncertainly in the middle of the lounge area.

  “What’s going on?”

  She was looking at me, but Bryan answered. “Puck’s escaped. You girls stay here, I’ll go give Dena a hand.”

  He left.

  “Where have you been?” she burst out as soon as the door closed behind him. “I woke up when the alarm started ringing, and you weren’t in your bed. What have you done?”

  I loved how she automatically assumed it was my fault. But she hadn’t given me away to Bryan. Twins first, always. My legs gave way at last and I sank down on the nearest couch.

  “I went to see Puck …”

  “What the hell for? Are you mad?”

  “I thought maybe I could find out something to help us. To help Dad.”

  She rolled her eyes, but flopped down next to me.

  “And then he …” How did I tell her the next bit? And then he taught me to do magic and I created a bird that freed him? Oops, pity about that, but hey, magic powers are really cool. Shame you don’t have any. Oh, hell no. “And then he tricked me … into taking my collar off and sort of … used the aether in my curse to help him escape.” Which was kind of true.

  She slumped back against the couch. “Oh, shit. Did anyone see you?”

  “No. But now I feel really bad.” You have no idea how bad. “He’s out there again and it’s all my fault.”

  And then the stress of it all caught up with me and I burst into tears.

  CJ put her arms around me. “You idiot.”

  I turned and sobbed into her shoulder.

  “You couldn’t leave it alone, could you? You just had to go shoving your nose into it. You know what Mum would say, don’t you?”

  I nodded and mumbled into her shoulder: “Curiosity killed the cat.”

  “That’s right.”

  She hugged me tight as I cried, and I felt her drop a kiss on my hair.

  “Don’t you get my shirt wet,” she said.

  ***

  We all sat around the big table in the kitchen, and a gloomier bunch of faces you’ve never seen. Bryan had his phone on loudspeaker in the centre of the table, and he and Dena were talking to Dorian, who was on his way in though it was only five o’clock in the morning. His wife wasn’t going to be happy.

  CJ and I were eating breakfast. I was too churned up to have any real appetite, but I didn’t want to draw attention to myself, so I chewed dutifully on my cereal and listened to the conversation.

  “What about aether?” Dorian
was saying. “Did you check the levels in the vault?”

  “Of course,” said Dena. “It hasn’t moved. Capacity’s unchanged since he’s been in there.”

  “And the artefacts,” said Bryan. “Not a one missing. Every last damn whistle and hair comb accounted for.”

  “I don’t understand where he got the power from then.”

  Frustration was clear in his voice, as it was on the faces of the two warders at the table with us. Dena hunched over a cup of coffee; its delicious scent filled the room, but did nothing to shift the worried frown from her face. Bryan’s fingers tapped an endless rhythm on the table top as he thought.

  Both of them had already said what Dorian was saying now. The conversation was going round in circles. No one had any idea how the prisoner could have escaped.

  No one except me, of course.

  “Maybe he always had it,” Bryan said at last.

  “Then why wait? What did he gain from staying in captivity all this time if he could have walked free whenever he wanted to?”

  The gloom deepened as all three contemplated this. None of the answers to that question were likely to be comforting.

  I almost wished I could reassure them that they were barking up the wrong tree. Almost. My free hand toyed with my collar. When I realised what I was doing I pulled it away.

  Is it any wonder your warder friends were so quick to get that collar on you, before you discovered what you could do?

  I couldn’t tell them anything. Not until I was sure what the reaction would be. And what had Puck meant about “defectives”? Surely nothing happened to them. Simon’s twin was fine—happily married and working as a solicitor, according to Gretel. I looked across at CJ’s tousled head, bent over her bowl. Mum and Dad wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her. But why didn’t they tell us about magic?

  “I’ll be there in ten,” Dorian said, his voice fading in and out. Must be going through a tunnel. “Get as many of the seekers in as you can. If they do a sweep with Hendrix counters before the trail gets muddied by too many civilians we might be able to pick him up.”