Page 9

ELSTERFAE

M alediction went immediately on high alert, his ears swivelling like a cat on the hunt, tail smoothing out behind him.

He moved with the same feline quickness, wincing as he pulled his wound.

The injury slowed him enough for Gisele to follow as he threw open the door to the sitting room and raced down the hallway to the entrance stairs, hurtling up them two at a time.

The screeches increased in both frequency and volume as they climbed, and by the time they emerged on the third floor—how many floors did this house have, on the inside?—they were running towards a high-pitched cacophony.

Magpies , she realised when he slammed open the door to where all the noise was coming from, a door which had rather alarmingly appeared between strides.

Or rather, not magpies but something very like them streamed out of the room as Malediction swore and ducked amidst a whirling flock of dark, winged shapes.

Gisele hurriedly pressed herself against the wall to avoid them.

All the other doors along the hall slammed shut, and a great curtain whooshed to cover the entrance to the stairwell they’d just come up. The magpie creatures shrieked in protest, the heavy material catching their wings as they clawed and pecked, trying to break through.

The curtain, or rather the house, fought back, billowing violently, throwing the creatures off and wrapping around others in fists of fabric, even as they wriggled and clawed.

A wind came up from nowhere, blowing the birds furiously back towards the room they’d emerged from.

One of the lamp-holders built into the wall twisted itself into a four-fingered cage and trapped a bird against the wall.

The creatures looked like magpies with gilded tails but for one very key difference.

Each bird had a tiny pair of paw-like hands emerging from its breast, and each one clutched a different item, holding their treasures fast as they squawked and flew and thrashed.

A lot of them held buttons in different shapes and sizes. One carried a spool of golden thread.

Half the flock was still in the room that Malediction had so unwisely opened. Good to know his lack of forward planning isn’t limited to just me .

It was a sewing room she could see past him, full of fabric and haberdashery.

Inside, the creatures were battering against the closed windows, their beaks beating sharply against the glass.

Still others were attempting to find cracks in the window frame, tearing at it with their claws as the curtains whirled angrily around them.

Malediction tore a magpie-creature directly from the air and snarled “ Stop! ” with it held in his fist. It was larger than any of its companions. Their leader? Did demented fairy magpies have leaders?

Menace rolled off Malediction in waves, and the remaining creatures all perched uneasily, their black beaks turning towards him as one.

The terrible sorcerer of her nightmares stood in the doorframe, shadows whirling around him and alchemical eyes gleaming with malice.

Claws emerged from his fingertips, pressing against the bird’s throat.

Oh . It wasn’t even surprise that sat suddenly heavy in her stomach, more a sense of ‘oh, of course’ . Of course it had all been an act. Of course she’d been a fool to trust him even the smallest amount. There was almost relief in it; at least the world made sense again.

But then instead of committing unspeakable acts of violence upon small woodland-ish creatures, he brought the bird up to eye-level and growled at it.

“Give up what you have stolen and I will convince Skymallow to let you out rather than wreak its vengeance upon you.” He stalked into the sewing room, the bird in his hand protesting all the while, and emerged with a straw hat in his other hand, held upside down. “In here. Now .”

His golden claws glittered. The bird in his hand gave a sharp trill of command, and the rest of the flock responded with various attitudes of surprise, fluffing up their feathers and chirping protests.

The leader-bird repeated the trill, firmer this time, and with a series of annoyed chirps, the flock began to swoop backwards and forwards over the straw hat, releasing their treasures as they did so.

Needles, thread, shining gold buttons (a popular choice), and small squares of sparkling fabrics filled the hat until all but the leader-bird sat grumpily empty-handed.

“And yours,” Malediction told the one in his hand firmly, still with that aura of suppressed violence.

With a croak that sounded like a rude word in not-magpie language, the bird dropped the golden thimble it held in its tiny paws. The thimble joined the rest of the stacked goods with a click.

Malediction stalked over to the window and undid the latch. “All right. Out!” He threw the bird in his hand, which opened its wings with an indignant squawk, swooping away. Its friends followed in a wave of feathery, protesting noise.

Malediction firmly closed the window behind the last one and re-latched it.

The malevolence of his aura dispersed, sudden as a punctured balloon, and he spoke to the house in a much gentler tone, as if he were soothing a frightened animal.

“It’s all right. I’ve got them all back.

You did well. You haven’t lost anything. ”

He scattered the objects in the straw hat onto the bare floorboards, where they were promptly… swallowed?

Gisele swallowed too. “What was that about? And why are you feeding the house sewing supplies?”

Malediction looked up, startled, as if he’d forgotten she was there.

“Elsterfae. Minor pests, which shouldn’t have been able to get past the wards.

Skymallow was worked up by them getting in, and then even more worked up to prevent the theft of its property.

Such things are hurtful to siden, and Skymallow is more vulnerable than most, since it is young and I have so little magic to give it.

” He set his palm against the floor. “It wasn’t your fault they got in, my friend. ”

There was an unexpected softness to him as he spoke to the house, and in that moment he seemed whatever the opposite of a nightmare sorcerer was. Just an old, lonely soul.

The softness had gone when he rose to his feet. In its place lay a certain grimness, shivering through the bond. Was she imagining it, this sporadic sense of his emotions?

“The wards were disturbed by your arrival and our”—his lips pulled back in distaste—“re-connection. I need to fix them before they let anything else in.”

He stalked out of the room. After a beat, Gisele followed.