Page 26 of Adepts and Alchemists
“Are you more put out that you have to wait for your questions to be answered or that Wanda relied on Maverick to put up the wards rather than you?” GG asked.
Both, but I’d never admit as much to her. The fact that Wanda found a Blood Warlock more trustworthy than a witch stung my pride. The worst part was, I couldn’t even argue with her. Though I knew these witches, they didn’t know me except by reputation, which had been tarnished by my association with a mass murderer. I couldn’t blame them for disliking me, but it still hurt.
Angelo’s chuckle was as rich and indulgent as the chocolate in my mug. It was a treat to listen to, but did absolutely nothing for my libido. Lydia’s was another matter. Her body responded unconsciously, and I glowered at him until he let the power drop with a repentant smile. The rub was, I didn’t think he was actually doing this on purpose.
GG clucked her tongue reprovingly, covering Finn’s ears. I muttered an apology, and Finn pushed at her hands with a scowl.
“I’m not a kid, GG!”
“Yes, you are,” she said without missing a beat. “In so many ways. Indulge your great-grandma.”
Finn tried to hold onto the creased look of impatience on his face, but like most negative expressions, it couldn’t stick for long. I was shocked the boy could smile after the ordeal I’d put his friends and family through.
GG plucked up one of Finn’s hands a second later, lifting it to the thin ribbon of illumination that fell on the table. A black smudge on his hand resolved itself into a number, though I wasn’t close enough or interested enough to investigate further than that. She examined the number in silence before letting out another, longer sigh.
“I wondered,” she said. “I saw the book in the background of one of your mother’s photos. I’d hoped I was wrong. I hoped the magician’s blood died with Henry.”
Finn stared up at his great-grandmother, slack-jawed. “Great-Grandpa Henry was...”
His gaze flicked down to his hands. When he held them up to the light, I could see still more numbers seemingly inked into his skin. I might have called them tattoos if any tattoo parlor was unscrupulous enough to ink someone so young. Even so, I couldn’t imagine his mother being thrilled by the prospect.
“A magician, yes,” GG whispered, eyes fixed into the middle distance, reliving whatever horror put the look of desolation on her face. “For a while. It changed, after the war. He did also. The magic... soured—and he wasn’t the same good man he had been.”
I could imagine. Not every spell was rooted in emotion, but it was fantastic fuel for large or complicated spells. To have someone with that raw potential lose control due to shell shock or injury was too easy. I’d been the one looking for an outlet for the fear and rage for a long time. I’d done the same thing when the war had touched me. I’d soured too.
“You never told me any of this, Grandma,” Poppy said but her tone wasn’t angry or disappointed. It just was.
GG looked over at her granddaughter. “I waited until the time was right. Such as it is now.”
“Magicless,” Finn interrupted quietly as he looked at his great-grandmother. “That’s what happened to grandpa. Whenmagicians go bad, they’re called magicless. Which is a bit misleading, since they do have magic, it’s just... bad.”
He stared down at his fingers again, this time in thought. For the first time, it seemed to occur to him that something similar could happen to the power he possessed. It was a good sign that the thought of corruption disturbed him. If he was on guard against it, he was less likely to fall to temptation.
Like me.
GG’s eyes were far away and a little sad. “Regardless, he left. I think he knew what was coming. He left to spare me and the children. That’s when I reconnected with your mother, Indigo. I was looking for answers. And she had them for me. More than I wanted, if I’m honest.”
Betanya, Olga, Imani, and the loathsome warlock filtered in over the course of minutes. I swore GG’s grin grew with every impatient twitch I made. Maybe she’d gotten answers from Mother, but I never had. I was still murky on how Mother had even met Murrain. And why she’d fled from him, in the end. Having the answers so close at hand without being able to ask the questions was irritating beyond belief.
“How did you meet my mother?” I asked, the question bursting free of me at last. “I mean, we’re supposed to hate each other.”
“Are we?” she asked, head canted to the side. It made her look like a bird with snowy plumage. “Or is that just something you tell yourselves so you don’t have to challenge your perceptions of magic?” She didn’t wait for me to respond. “Cassandra knew that magic is at its greatest when we share it.”
“What was she to you?” I demanded. “You talk like you know her better than I did.”
GG sat primly, dropping into the space between Poppy and Finn. Both were staring at her, the former in unflattering disbelief and the latter in starry-eyed wonder. Poppy almostdrew her hand back when GG reached for it. Hurt flickered far back in GG’s eyes, but she accepted the rebuff with stoicism, letting her own hand swing back to her side. Clearly, this whole thing was now getting to Poppy. Maybe she’d just been in disbelief earlier.
“I just wanted to check,” GG said quietly to Poppy. “I suspect you may have inherited more from me than you might think. I was around your age when the tendencies began.”
“Tendencies?” Poppy repeated.
“The alchemy,” GG corrected with a soft smile. “Potion making runs deep in our family, Poppy, but alchemists only come once every generation or two. We’re rare. I always suspected you’d develop some aspect of the art. May I?”
Poppy hesitated for only a moment before laying her hand in GG’s bony grasp. There was only a single pulse of magic, like a plucked cord, the feeling ringing through the room in a sub-audible hum. Everyone present reacted, including Finn, who tried to discreetly rub his arms free of goosebumps.
“What was that?” I whispered.
“that’s what happens when two alchemists touch each other.” She gave her granddaughter a soft, pitying look. “My, my. You’re developing even more quickly than I realized. Have you done transfiguration already? People usually start with sublimation.”