The day was bitter and biting, wind that whipped raw against skin, that seemed to seek out gaps between coat and skin, to insinuate itself into bones and joints. Not many braved it.
Eliot Vincent wore no coat, no scarf, no hat, his lack of armor against the weather a subtle reminder that he was strong enough not to need it. He stood, calm and easy in the cold.
Sydney removed her hands from her pockets and rubbed them together for warmth. “Let’s get this over with.”
The challenge began.
The snow beneath Sydney’s feet jerked and heaved up, flinging her off-balance. By the time she regained her feet, it had turned to a slick of ice. She hit it and fell, hard.
“Oh, well done,” she muttered under her breath as it then cracked. Splinters and shards drove up, sharp enough to pierce through skin. She left blood in red smears across the ice and heard the reaction go through the crowd.
“Right. That’s enough of that.” The ice around Sydney melted. Slow at first, but then all in a rush. The air warmed. Green shoots burst from the ground and grabbed at Eliot’s feet. His hands turned into twigs. Bark replaced his skin, and leaves burst from him. He became a perfect tree, a beech, in full bloom. Spring in the midst of winter.
Sydney walked over to Laurent, who handed her a tissue for the blood on her face. “I was worried for a minute there.”
“He was good. Good enough he should have gotten through this. The tree was as close as I could come to leaving some of him alive.” She reached out her hand. “Can I have my gloves, please? I really do hate the cold.”
? ? ?
Miles Merlin sat in a quiet corner of the Mages’ Club, Grey across from him. “Here is a thing I find very interesting. There have been a series of bodies found, throughout the Turning. Bodies upon which a number of spells have been performed, in the course of the killings. Most interestingly, in each case, the finger bones have been removed. It looks almost as if someone has been killing people in order to cut the magic out of them.”
“That does seem interesting,” Grey said, his face blank. Under the table, he held his hands rigid in the opening posture of a defensive spell. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Miles cast, but he was the head of the House that led the Unseen World. He must be strong. Better to be ready.
Michael Dee walked over, bourbon in hand. “So, what do you plan to do about the failures of magic, Merlin?”
Miles turned on the charm, a politician at the negotiating table. “I’m looking into the causes, of course. And—forgive me, Grey, I know she’s your sister—but it does seem like Sydney’s presence among us may have something to do with them.”
“Shadows ought to be kept in the Shadows,” Dee said, then laughed as if he found himself very funny indeed.
“You’re exactly right,” Miles said.
“Carry on, then.” Dee toasted his glass in their direction, losing a little bourbon over the rim in his enthusiasm.
“Forgive me. I chose this table hoping to avoid interruptions. Now, where was I? Oh yes. The truly odd thing is that the girls who’ve been killed are all lesser magicians from lesser Houses. They barely have enough magic to remain in the Unseen World. Now, what I don’t understand is, if you’re going to go through the trouble of killing someone for their magic, scraping it from their bones, why go after someone who has so little?” Miles picked up his fork and tapped it against his plate, causing capers to roll from the top of his bagels and lox.
Grey pushed his chair back slightly, giving himself room, just in case. “I’m not sure why you’re asking me this.”
“An academic discussion, nothing more.” Merlin smiled and draped red onion on his salmon. “We spend so little time fully considering the sources of our power. If this is one, we owe it to ourselves—to magic—to think about the best way to use it. Because, as you know, there have been some recent problems with magic. Indeed, last night there was a complete failure of magic at a challenge.”
“Complete?” Grey echoed.
“I’m sure it’s part of the reason for Dee’s visit just now. Both magicians attempted to cast, and nothing—nothing—happened. And we’re all aware of other times when magic has misfired, or hasn’t been as strong as it should have been,” Merlin said. “And while these events have increased dramatically since Sydney appeared in our midst, it doesn’t necessarily mean that she’s taken magic from Shadows to help her performance here. It may simply be a sign that it’s time to look for alternate sources of magic. If something is happening, it’s best to be prepared.”
Grey relaxed then. “I would think that, if you’re trying to make the collection, you’d choose people with less magic because you’d want to increase your chances of success. It’s like the sacrifices—they’re sent away when they’re small, before their magic is as strong as it might be, but that’s because it makes it easier to take it out of them. You don’t want someone who might be able to fight back.”
“Well, that’s certainly something to think about, though I’m not sure it helps us deal with that woman who claims to be your sister. Whatever else she is, she is very strong magically.” Merlin shook his head as if this problem were a great sadness for him.
“Do you really think she’s the reason for the failures of magic?” Grey asked. “That if her magic were taken—no, not taken. If her magic were returned to where it should be, would the failures stop? Would everyone else be stronger?”
“I think,” Merlin said, “that there is a reason magic is failing. There does not seem to be the pool of magic there normally is, and, as I’ve said before, the biggest connection I see is that magic became weaker once Sydney began to participate in the Turning. Magic does not just disappear—it goes somewhere. If she has too much—”
“Then someone ought to take it back,” Grey said.
“You are aware, of course, that Houses whose members fall in the course of a Turning are exempt from the next required sacrifice,” Miles said.
“I’m not sure how that applies here. I won’t have established my House until after the Turning is finished.”
“It applies because the death returns their magic to that same pool of power that the magic of Shadows comes from. If Sydney were to fall in the course of a challenge, perhaps some sort of balance would be restored. It’s certainly something to think about,” Miles said.
Yes, Grey agreed. It certainly was.
CHAPTER NINETEEN