Chapter 6
Tully
I can’t put my finger on what is giving me pause. A feeling. A fuzzy bit of air above the area. I don’t know. Snow sits in heaps around the disturbed area. The cobblestones are out of place, and the dirt is churned up. Wiping my brow with the back of my sleeve, I breathe in and out slowly. I don’t have the energy for this right now. I need a pint and a nap.
I look up toward the watchtower. I’m on the far side of it now and I’m not sure Rom will hear me if I yell up at him. I should really know more about my best friend’s mate—do gargoyles have better hearing than most? Probably.
“Romulus!”
He appears at the opening under the peaked roof. Well, that answers that.
“Yes?” His wings shuffle behind him, altering his dark silhouette.
I jab a thumb toward the destruction. “Can you take care of this hole for me? I’m bushed.”
“Of course.”
As Rom raises his hands, a snap of magic hits me in the back like a vicious snowball made of ice. I spin to face the opening in the ground only to see magic shimmering into the air in dancing motes of blue, white, and gold.
I rush over and look inside. What in the name of all the gods was that? The stones begin to shake, so I hold up a hand.
“Wait, Rom!”
Everything calms around me, the rocks going back to where they were. The magic zing is gone now.
I crouch at the hole and squint into the dirt. There’s nothing. But no—there is something . The echoes of a great power hum under the disturbed cobblestones.
The beat and whoosh of large wings sound behind me, and suddenly Rom is landing. He takes a knee beside the hole.
“What’s going on?” he asks. “Did I wreck it further?”
I laugh. “No, you big, sweet thing. You’re great. I wouldn’t have set you up with my Laini if I didn’t have total confidence in your magic and your control.”
His smile is too nice for this world. “So what is the deal?”
“I felt magic down here,” I explain. “Not mine. Not yours. Not the dumb minotaur’s either. Something else. Powerful as hell.”
“Want me to clear the space so you can poke around more easily?”
“Not yet.” I stand and wipe my hands on my skirts. “I need to do some meditation on this.”
“Do you usually do that?”
“It’s a regular part of being a witch. One must be in tune with one’s intuition.”
“I had no idea,” Rom says. “Should I try it for my magic?”
I slap his massive arm. Only the minotaur’s is more muscular than his. Or maybe they’re tied. “You should!”
His gargoyle fangs peek out between his lips. “I’ll do it.”
“Pick a quiet spot,” I say. “Get comfortable. Think of nothing. Or just white space. You’ll get there.”
“Thanks, Tully.”
I get a slip of parchment from the small pouch on my belt and magically pen a note to Rustion, asking that this area be roped off. I bespell the letter and it zips away in a flurry of purple sparks.
Argos joins me and crosses his huge arms. Snow is caught in his wavy, brown hair and little, icy flakes slide over his wide-set horns. The chains hanging from them jingle quietly.
“Do you want a hand here?” he asks.
“Your hand? No, thank you.”
“If you’re so proficient and respected, why are you being so defensive with me, a lowly competitor?” he asks.
I grip my wand tighter. “Give me those stones of yours.”
“No, I don’t think I will.”
“You must.” He’s infuriating.
“The mayor didn’t confiscate them,” he says. “He allowed me to keep them. Do you believe you have more authority than he does?”
Red sparks crackle from the end of my wand. “Rustion is too nice for his own good.”
“And yet he’s the only one who can confiscate property in Leafshire Cove, right?”
What did this minotaur do? Study our town laws before his arrival?
“Fine,” I snap. “Keep them. Did you finish tidying up back there?” I point in the general direction of his cart and mine.
“Aye.”
“Then we’re done here.”
He studies the hole in the cobblestones and the heaps of earth around the spot. “So we aren’t fixing this?”
“Nope.”
Two of our gate guards in Rustion’s livery show up and begin to set up poles and rope around the area.
“Okay, you’re definitely not telling me everything, Mistress Tully.”
“Don’t mistress me. And don’t worry about this,” I say, jerking my chin at the disturbed ground. “This is a problem for true magic workers.”
He raises an eyebrow. “So it’s a magical hole in the ground?”
“Maybe.”
I start toward my house, and Argos follows. I do my best to ignore him, hoping he’ll drift in another direction, and I silently plan out the rest of the cleanup. I’ll send a lad to gather my cart and potions and brooms later on. I’m not in the mood to be in the town square at the moment.
Argos won’t go away. He walks in step with me, his height casting a shadow over me. He’s just so big. I wonder what his weight on top of me would feel like… Ugh. I shove that thought away. He’s an idiot. I refuse to be physically aroused by a fool.
“You must concede that my magic isn’t the only strange power that was involved in today’s disaster,” he says, startling me. “Perhaps whatever is in that area is our real problem.”
“Please stop following me.”
“I’m on my way to the mayor’s manor. My direction of walking has nothing to do with you.”
My jaw twitches as I grind my teeth together. Must not commit murder. But Blessed Stones, it would be so peaceful if he ceased existing.
I finally stop and round on him, my hands on my hips. “I won’t see your cart tomorrow, right?”
“It’s up to you what you look at. I did notice you’re inclined to stare at my arse in particular.”
My blood boils. I storm off, giving myself a boost with my wand’s ability to let me fly a few inches from the ground. I refuse to look back at Argos.
I have two mysteries to figure out now.
Are they related? It’s too much of a coincidence for them not to be. I don’t have a real plan yet, but I know my first step.
I’m going to get that minotaur drunk at some point and steal his rune stones.