Chapter 4
Tully
M y heart shoots into my throat and I grip my cart to keep from falling on my arse. Laini shouts and Kaya falls back a step. What is happening? I whip my wand in a quick movement as the magic tugs at the length of rowan wood. My hand is shaking.
My spell flies toward Kaya’s stall. The magic grabs a stack of scones and flings them across the square. Maplecats scatter, snow flying from their fast-moving paws.
The wayward magic zooms back toward me.
“Duck!” I say to Kaya and Laini.
“What’s wrong?” Laini grabs my wand arm and drops into a crouch with me.
The spell zips over us.
Sweating, I shake myself free of Laini. “Nothing. Hold on. I’ve got it.” My magic has never acted like this. It’s like I cast a major working—and a chaotic one at that—instead of a simple protection dome.
With a gust of magical wind, the spell grabs my little brooms and shoots them like massive crossbow bolts across the town fountain. People are running and screaming.
This isn’t something that happens to mature witches. And it never happens to me. I’ve always had perfect control of my power. That’s why everyone trusts me. I can’t let this go on. The spell is pulling so hard at my wand that I’m about to lose my grip. I don’t know what will happen if I can’t keep hold of it.
The wayward spell rushes toward Kaya’s bakery in a purple and orange stream of sparkling power.
“No, no, noooo,” I whisper, trying to force my will onto the spell. “Come back, you naughty beast!”
“I’m right here,” Argos says, suddenly at my side.
When did he walk over here? The magic rips up Kaya’s roof and flings chunks of wood shingles through the air. People cover their heads and shout for help.
This is terrible.
Argos lifts those black stones he was fiddling with yesterday. “Allow me to help.”
“Stay out of it,” I snap. “I’ve got this.”
“I don’t think you do.”
He rubs the stone in his right hand and brings the other one to meet it in a quick rap like someone trying to break open a walnut. The spell shivers again, then it diminishes in size and power. I’m able to reel it back in via my wand.
I’m panting, and I hate the way everyone is looking at me. Like I’m not what they’ve always known me to be—a reliable, powerful witch who knows her business and doesn’t make mistakes. Instead, their faces show doubt and even fear.
I tuck my wand into the belt over my corset top and raise my hands. “People of Leafshire Cove, I don’t know what happened there. But I promise you that I will find out what, or who,” I say giving Argos a loaded look, “caused this disruption in magic and rid us of the problem as quickly as possible.”
“So you’re blaming me,” Argos says quietly. I hate how calm and non-sweaty he looks.
I’m over here drenched and I likely appear insane. I’m sure my red hair is doing its best scary monster impression. I tug my hat down lower on my head.
“You’re the only thing that has changed with regard to magic around here this week,” I say. “The most obvious answer is usually the right one.”
“But it was your spell. It had nothing to do with my magic.”
“Your magic. Ha! You have no real power. Whatever those nasty little stones are, well, they must be dark magic.”
Lord Mayor Rustion appears from the gathered goblins, humans, pixies, and orcs. The aging lion shifter lifts his hands and says something that sounds calming.
Laini sets a gentle hand on my shoulder. “I can go get Rom or Grumlin if you want another magic worker at your side,” she whispers.
“I’m fine. It’s not my fault.”
“Of course, it isn’t,” Kaya says, no sarcasm in her tone.
Rustion’s normally kind face is stern when he looks our way and I can’t help but falter just a tiny bit in my confidence.
“What in the name of all the gods happened here?” he asks.
I point to the minotaur. “Ask Argos.”
Rustion looks Argos up and down. “You’re new here, yes? I recall your habitation request coming across my desk, I believe. Unusual name. Plus, I don’t believe we have anyone with minotaur blood here. Welcome to town.”
He’s being so painfully polite. Ugh. Rustion is great and all, but sometimes, he should be more direct and cut people down when the occasion calls for it.
Argos dips his chin and the chain on his horn catches the light. “Nice to meet you, Lord Mayor.”
His eyes are sincere and it’s silly how long his eyelashes are. A male with those muscles and broad shoulders shouldn’t have long eyelashes.
Rustion returns the nod. “Now, down to the problem at hand. What is your take on it, Tully?”
“I cast a protection dome over the butcher. Basic magic working. The spell exploded and went feral. The magic was created with Argos’s unnatural illusions in mind, so I believe his power is the problem here. It tangled with my true magic and did all this damage. He should be banned from selling his wares, and honestly, he should be kicked out of town for his crimes.”
Rustion crosses his arms. “Hmm. Argos, what do you believe happened? And I’d like to see the stones Tully mentioned.”
Argos’s mouth pinches, and I grin fiercely at the small win of annoying him. Old Rustion is going to give him the boot. I restrain myself from cackling with happiness. I can’t wait to have this thorn out of my side.
“Lord Mayor, my illusions didn’t alter when Tully’s spell went awry.”
The way he says my name has my heart beating too fast again. I wrinkle my nose and shake that off. He is such a bastard, blaming me.
“I have lived here for almost all of my twenty-five years,” I say. “Never once has anything like this occurred until you waddled into town.”
Rustion cranes his neck to look at Kaya’s damaged roof.
“Waddled?” Argos mouths to me. He makes a show of looking at his arse, twisting and lifting his brown eyebrows.
Laini snorts. Kaya laughs, then covers her mouth. She eyes me warily and I roll my eyes.
Argos clears his throat and puts his large hands in his pockets. He has the hands of a farmer—broad and strong-looking, but he doesn’t have any scars or dirt under his nails.
“I don’t think the problem has anything to do with me,” Argos continues. “But I’m happy to show you the source of my magic.”
Now we’re getting somewhere. He removes the rocks from his pockets and displays them to Rustion in one large palm. Runes mark the smooth surface of the rounded stones. They are so black that they seem to absorb light. Power shimmers lightly from them.
“Those are dangerous,” I say.