Page 57 of The Hearth Witch’s Guide to Magic & Murder (The Hemlock Saga #1)

Avery

They took a cab to Knightsbridge, first because the rain had started again and second because Saga had made a point that she would not be battling for a place to sit on the tube while wearing “these bloody shoes”.

It was an understandable sentiment, as the aforementioned shoes were heels of a magnitude Avery had never seen.

The sole of the toe sat on a platform of nearly three inches, whereas the heel itself rose a total of six.

They secured to her leg with a series of buckles and straps that twisted all the way up to just below her knee, giving the impression of a gladiatorial sandal.

It accentuated the definition of her strong legs in a manner Avery found…

hypnotic. This precarious perch raised her height from Avery’s shoulder to just about eye level, and every shift in weight or position engaged different muscles through her lower body.

Avery reminded herself, more than once, that it would be impolite to touch them, even if it was for scientific observation.

She wasn’t used to mortal women who didn’t perform physical labor for a living having such defined muscles.

She would have to inquire, at a more opportune time, if Saga participated in some kind of sport.

Saga maneuvered in her shoes with the ease of a circus performer on stilts. They were practically an extension of her limbs as they climbed out of the cab and ducked under the awning of the condominium.

The doorman nodded to both of them, opening the door so they could sneak inside out of the rain.

The Regent was appropriately named, as the lobby was decorated for the royalty of old.

Avery thought it looked even a little garish.

But what struck her most of all was the monitor on display in the lobby and visible through the great glass doors that showed guests a broadcast rotating through several hidden cameras, making it quite clear to any who entered that they would be watched.

She wondered how well this worked to deter break-ins.

Avery nodded to it. “Does that work like the camera on the phone? Capturing images?”

“Should likely capture full video as it’s displaying now. If we’re lucky, they keep footage long enough that we can prove Valentina might have…” Saga frowned as she gave the monitor another look. “Wait a minute, why… Why do you look like that?”

Avery smoothed down her vest self-consciously before checking the image of them was currently on display.

“What do you mean?” She scrutinized the video: Her hair was in place, and her suit well-fitted.

True, she didn’t quite match her companion’s dress with its short hem and modern cut that hugged the curves of her frame far more than anything Avery had ever seen her in, but she thought she herself looked quite dashing.

Saga glanced from Avery to the video feed, becoming even more perplexed. “In the video, you don’t look like you. I mean, you do, but you don’t. Your hair is an entirely different color.”

Avery felt the wisps on the nape of her neck raise.

Had her glamour failed? She examined the video feed but saw nothing out of place.

Dark hair, a light but warm complexion, blue eyes.

She grinned at it, then frowned. Her fangs were concealed, her ears still rounded.

Nothing had faltered. “I look the same as you’ve always seen me. ”

“No you don’t,” Saga insisted.

“What color is my hair normally to you?”

“Silver? White? It’s actually rather remarkable, I can’t quite pinpoint the color. It shines. My first thought was that it looks like moonlight…but that’s a weird thing to say, I can tell because you are staring at me, and that never means something good.”

Avery’s mind raced. How was this possible? She’d never fully removed her glamour in front of Saga, and even now, it was clearly still in place so how… “Can you see through glamours?”

“You mean like makeup?”

“May I help you ladies?” The concierge called to them from the desk.

Avery put up a finger to indicate they would be with him in a moment and led Saga off to the side. “Saga, my hair is naturally the color you described.”

Still not understanding, Saga shrugged. “Okay? I mean, considering your befuddlement with hair dye, I sort of figured.”

“And my eyes—or ears, how do those look to you?”

Saga took a moment to glance at Avery’s ears, then her eyes. Here she lingered longer and Avery couldn’t help but take a moment to appreciate the warm golden earthy shade of Saga’s own irises. There were notes of dark honey intermixed in the color.

“Your ears have a slight point—which I admit I didn’t notice until we were at Hygge—and your eyes are hard to describe. Like mercury…?”

Avery exhaled a breath she’d been holding. “You can see through glamours,” she whispered, awed.

“What’s a—”

“A minor illusion spell, nearly every fey can perform it—it’s how we’ve been able to walk among humans without detection.

When I was trying to ask about your hair that day, that’s why I was confused.

When I was last awake, I never could have gone out into the world as just myself—not because it would scare anyone but because my features are inhuman enough that people would ask questions… Are you wearing any charms right now?”

Saga shook her head. Her worry made a small crinkle form between her eyebrows. “Just my Brigid medallion.”

“Remove it?”

She clasped it protectively. “Why?”

“Please, this is important, I’m just trying to test a theory.”

Saga sighed and carefully drew the chain over her head and handed it to Avery.

“Any change?”

Saga checked the monitor, confused. “Was something supposed to change?”

“Just my expectations, I suppose.” Avery reverently replaced the necklace over Saga’s head. “Fascinating, I wonder if that talent extends to all illusions or just this sort.”

Saga pulled her hair out from underneath the chain and craned her neck to get a better look at them both on the monitor. “So this is how everyone else sees you?”

“I have made a few minor changes to remove any feature inherited from my father’s side, or that would draw suspicion or attention. I bound the spell to a wearable item so I can leave it on. It saves me time…”

“What is it bound to?”

Avery reached to her own collar to lift and expose a silver chain worn beneath her shirt before dropping it out of sight again. “I’ve never met anyone with True Sight.”

“I don’t even know what that is,” said Saga.

“You see things for what they are. Mostly. It’s immune to illusions, but not to something that physically changes appearance like shape-shifters.” Avery’s tongue clicked in realization. “Which is why you didn’t realize your uncle was a jinn.”

“Not until an awkward conversation with my aunt, anyway.”

“This could be increasingly helpful,” Avery observed aloud.

“But…also confusing. Especially if we are seeing different realities and we don’t realize it.

We’ll have to work on this. We’ll need to train you to be able to see illusions, otherwise being able to see through them may hinder your ability to connect with the world as other people see it. Or even miss a clue.”

“I could miss a clue by not seeing an illusion?”

“Of course. Every part of the puzzle is important, and the lie is still part of the puzzle, just the same as the truth.”

Saga let that sink in a moment. “You said if we are seeing different realities—is this something you can’t do?”

“Naturally? No. Not many fey can. We have spells or hagstones that let us see through glamours. It’s not something someone is usually born with, it’s something you’re…gifted.”

“Gifted by whom?”

The Aos Sí; specifically, the old gods of Faerie. Avery’s mind was racing. The Hudson line had always been powerful and devoted, but had they been so loved in the eyes of a god to be granted a gift even without their knowledge?

“You’re freaking me out a little here,” said Saga after Avery had gone too long without answering her.

“No, no, no,” came the quick and gentle reassurance. “There’s no need to feel anxious or worried, everything is fine.” Avery flashed a good-natured smile. “Nothing has changed. We have merely just discovered you possess a very beneficial little talent, that’s all.”

“If it’s so beneficial, why do we need to question it or train it or—”

“Deep breaths.”

Saga stopped herself and took a long inhale and exhale. Then again. “Yeah, okay.”

“Everything is fine,” assured Avery. “We will figure this out together, and in the meantime, we are going to catch a murderer.”

“Yeah,” Saga nodded again then stopped. Her eyes widened.

“Oh… Oh no. No, no, no. Avery, everything is not fine. What am I doing here? I’m not a detective.

It’s one thing to be drinking tea and poring over files with you, it is entirely another to be standing in the lobby of a suspected killer’s home. ”

“Saga,” Avery let her name whisper past her lips, grounding magic interlaced with each syllable. “You don’t have to know what you’re doing. I know. I will be right here at your side. You will be safe. And when the council finally pays me after this is over, I will buy you dinner.”

Saga’s fingers anxiously drummed her fingers against her thigh. “You promise?”

“I swear.”

“No sneaky ‘by the letter, not the spirit’ workarounds?”

“Nothing sneaky, nothing underhanded, nothing unspoken.” Avery gently gripped Saga’s shoulders reassuringly. “You will be safe. I am going to ask all the questions. All right?”

Saga took a moment to swallow this information. A few deep breaths, her eyes in a soft focus, and then she was back to the present. “Right as rain.”

“Good.” Avery released her and straightened upright. “I have a feeling it’s going to be your name the concierge will need.”

Saga smiled sheepishly. “Yeah…” She took a moment to remove her coat and sling it over her arm before smoothing down her dress. Her fingertips lightly brushed over her fringe, making sure it fell over her forehead properly. “How do I look?”