Postmortem (Medicine and Magic Book 2) Page 8

  “If the dark mages are aware of you and they think to use you, then you need to gain control, especially with the escalation.”

  “Escalation?”

  Aron nodded solemnly. “Since the attempt with the demon king, the mage council has increased their efforts with the Dark Council.”

  “Burning off magic?”

  Aron shook his head. “Discovery mostly. Capture. Like I told you, anything more is difficult. But the increased attention from the mage council is probably why they attacked tonight. Don’t let them have an opportunity to place the paralyzer on you.”

  I smiled. “Paralytic.”

  “Practice,” he said again. Aron stepped into the hall, hand on the door, watching me. There was something unreadable in his eyes. It almost seemed as if he wanted to say something more, but he didn’t.

  When the door closed, I stared at it for long moments, a part of me expecting that he would return, but he didn’t. I don’t know why I thought he would; I should be grateful for the fact that he had come to help at all. Without him—and Lupita—the dark mages would have captured me and destroyed my home.

  Aron was right. I needed to be ready, but that meant that I would be able to use my magic. The basics of magic were easy enough. Gran and Gramps had taught me enough over the years that I could use the basics of my power. It was trying to do anything more complex. And when I tried, I struggled. I had been lucky to escape from the paralytic, but I needed to be ready with something more than luck. If I couldn’t reach for my magic when I needed it, and if I couldn’t overcome a spell I’d faced repeatedly, what was the point of having it?

  Hopefully, he had reinforced my walls, because I intended to test whether they were stout enough to suppress magic. It was time that I tried.

  And as tired as I was, I doubted that I could sleep. With the night that I’d had, my body was completely revved up and my mind wouldn’t be able to shut it down to let me get any sleep. Maybe I should take the opportunity to practice.

  If only I had a yard to use. Regardless of what Aron had said, I didn’t like the idea of damaging my home while working with spells. There were times when I lost control of my magic, so it was possible that I’d lose control now.

  The sword might help me focus.

  I went to my bedroom and pulled open the doors to my closet, sorting through the stacks of stuff until I came to the bundle holding the sword. I’d wrapped it in a blanket before storing it, not wanting to risk cutting myself on the blade accidentally. I probably should have chosen a different blanket. The one I’d used had some sentimental value to me; it was one that my mother had apparently used to swaddle me when I’d been a baby. And here I’d used it to swaddle a sword. She would have to understand.

  When I unwrapped the sword, I stared at it for a long moment. My cat Lucy crawled out of the closet and rubbed against me. “You were hiding there?” I should have gone looking for her before now. It was a measure of my tired mind that I hadn’t even thought of her during the attack.

  She meowed and sauntered away from me, leaving me smiling. If nothing else, she lightened my mood.

  I squeezed the hilt of the sword. It was intricately carved of what looked to be bone. The first time I’d realized that, I had tried not to think what it meant. I still didn’t put much thought into it. If I did, I doubted I would have been willing to even handle the sword. After all, this was a demon sword. Not just any demon, either. A powerful demon sword. I shouldn’t even be able to hold it, let alone use it to focus my magic, and the fact that I could was enough to tell me that whatever Aron believed about the possibility of fae parentage was a lie.

  I was demon. I had to be.

  I carried the sword back to my living room, holding onto the hilt. The surface of it was smooth, though there were faint ridges within it that I noticed the longer I held it. Taking a seat, I settled the blade across my lap, staring at the surface of the blade. Lettering carved into the surface caught the light, leaving odd shadows in places. The first time I’d noticed the lettering, I’d tried writing it down to figure out what was on the blade but had never managed to determine what it was. As far as I could tell, it was in some unknown demon language.

  The strange thing about the sword was the way it connected me to my magic. If I could reach through it, I might be able to attempt to use my magic better.

  Though I was tired, I needed to try and do this.

  Since the attempt at getting the demon king across the Veil, I hadn’t intentionally practiced with my magic. I’d been hesitant, afraid that I’d draw the attention of the council, despite knowing that my grandparents likely made it so that even if the council did come after me, they would do everything they could to protect me. There was more to my reluctance than that. I hadn’t used my magic because I’d been scared.

  And why shouldn’t I be?

  The magic might be worse than what I’d believed. It was bad enough thinking I was a dark mage, but now I had the added worry about thinking that perhaps I was part demon, something that shouldn’t exist on this side of the Veil.

  More than even fearing having my magic burned off, if I was part demon, would the council force me to the other side of the Veil? If they did, I would die. There was no way I’d survive something like that. The demons I’d encountered on this side of the Veil had been scary enough, but on the other side, there would be demons and fae and other dark creatures, all with power that was more than what I could draw upon.

  The other possibility was just as bad. They could choose to simply eliminate me.

  I had to be prepared.

  Setting the sword with the tip pointing into my carpet, I held my hands on either side of the hilt, letting the pressure of the bone focus my attention. Power burbled within me, seeming to respond to the sword. I drew on that power, letting it come rising up from within the depths of myself, slowly pulling that power out and pushing it into the sword. I didn’t want to release my power, only focus it.

  Heat built around me, the energy of the magic crackling in the air. Not a spell. As much as I wanted to try and use a spell, my magic wasn’t like that.

  I let the power ease out. If I could manage this, the next step would be controlling my magic in a way that allowed me to get a handle on how to use it effectively. With what I’d been through the last few days—really, what I’d been through this year—I needed to practice and be ready for the possibility that I might need to use it.

  As the magic eased from the sword, it slammed into my floor. I tensed, worried that it would destroy something, but the spell bounced back, dissipating again. Aron had placed protections around my home, and not just on the walls, as I had thought. If even the floor was protected, I wouldn’t need to worry nearly so much.

  The only problem was that I still didn’t know any spells.

  Even if I could reach my magic regularly—and that wasn’t a given—I didn’t have the necessary knowledge about how to use it effectively. I’d never be able to form a spell like the paralytic, or even anything more basic than that.

  I set the sword down, resting it on the floor, not concerned about damaging the carpet. “What are you thinking?” I whispered to myself.

  Drawing on magic was one thing, but the other part of it involved having the necessary knowledge about how to use it. And that was what I didn’t have. Gran and Gramps had tried teaching me in the past, spending countless patient hours trying to get me to understand how to manipulate my magic in the ways they knew, but I’d struggled. If they couldn’t teach me, there probably wasn’t anyone who could.

  Maybe I should have asked Aron for help. He might not be able—or willing—to tutor me, but I suspected he knew whom I could go to and ask.

  Without having the right kind of knowledge, all I could do was practice reaching for my magic. That would be valuable in defending myself, even if it wasn’t something I could easily control.

  As I practiced, reaching for the sense of magic deep within me and then releasing it again, i
t did become easier. I should have done this long ago, but then I’d always been afraid of what would happen if I reached for it. I’d never had the freedom or peace of mind to simply try reaching for magic until now.

  Even with Aron’s reassurance, I still didn’t feel completely at ease.

  Worry crept into my mind. What if he hadn’t really sealed off my home to protect me from others identifying my magic? I knew it was crazy—what reason would Aron have in lying to me? If he had wanted to report me to the council, he could have done that long ago—but I couldn’t shake those worries. What if it didn’t work the way he thought? He tried sealing off my home from dark magic, but my kind of magic was different. It was possible that he couldn’t separate my kind of magic effectively.

  I leaned back, letting the sword rest against my couch. At some point, I drifted off, only waking when I heard a sound at my door.

  Jolted awake, I grabbed the sword and headed toward the door. I must have slept, but I didn’t feel refreshed. Magic surged into me, though I knew I should be more careful. What if reaching for magic only alerted them to my presence?

  A knock came.

  That was what had jostled me awake in the first place.

  The dark mages hadn’t knocked. They had blasted my door open with magic.

  Magic.

  I didn’t detect anyone using it now, which wasn’t a guarantee they weren’t mages, but the lack of a chill working along my spine at least made it less likely. And there was the almost polite knock.

  The peephole hadn’t been destroyed and I leaned in carefully, ready to send a blast of magic through the door if necessary.

  I recognized the bushy eyebrows and the balding head that was much tanner than a man in Minnesota should be at this time of year. It was only Marvin.

  My neighbor was older and nosy and needed help every so often. He would watch over my home whether I wanted him to or not, but he meant well.

  Had he heard anything last night? I presumed it was morning, otherwise he wouldn’t knock. Marvin might be odd, but he wouldn’t come calling in the middle of the night.

  After setting the sword behind my door, I pulled it open. “Hello?”

  Marvin blinked, looking at me with a strange expression. I realized how I must look. Not only had I not gone to bed, but I’d been in a fight and probably had the remains of that fight still on my clothing.

  “Kate? What happened?”

  I looked down. Sure enough, blood splattered on my scrubs. “Rough shift.”

  His eyes widened slightly, and then he nodded knowingly. “I’m sure your patients appreciate everything you do for them.”

  I looked past Marvin and down the hallway. There was no evidence of damage. Aron had somehow completely cleaned up everything. That was the kind of magic I wanted to learn. If I could pick up my home with magic, maybe I could get a little more sleep. It wasn’t that I left my place messy—there wasn’t really the time for it—but too often dishes piled up in the sink and I needed to vacuum better than the stupid Roomba could do.

  “Some of them do. What can I help you with?” I tried not to sound too tired or annoyed, but all I wanted was to rest and I didn’t think I’d get that. Depending on what time it was, I needed to get to work. I might already be late.

  He glanced along the hall. “I’m just checking to see how everyone is doing. I heard some strange sounds last night but…”

  “What kind of sounds?”

  “Well, I don’t know. I didn’t have my hearing aids in last night, but it sounded like explosions. I wasn’t expecting any fireworks nearby, so don’t know what it might be.”

  “I didn’t hear anything, if that’s what you’re checking on.” At least, nothing that I’d admit to him. Marvin couldn’t know what really happened. I think it might kill him.

  Marvin glanced back down the hallway. “Ah, well that’s good, Kate. You get some rest. You look like you need it.”

  I closed the door, ignoring the last part of his comment, mostly because it was true. I did need sleep, though how much time would I have before I had a chance to get some?

  The demon sword seemed to stare up at me, almost taunting me. It was time to put it back to bed. I didn’t need to have the feeling of a demon sword watching me. That was probably only my imagination, but if it wasn’t, I didn’t intend to deal with whatever magic the demons might place in their weapons.

  When I’d wrapped it and stuffed it back into my closet, noise in my kitchen caught my attention. It wasn’t Lucy. She had followed me back into the bedroom and sat on the bed, looking over at me with her judgmental blue eyes.

  “You know, you could go check on it,” I said to her.

  Her ears twitched and she settled her head back onto the bed, closing her eyes.

  “You might be better were you a dog.” At least with a dog, I’d get a warning. Lucy might warn me—if she felt like it. Which never happened. She was far more content to sleep.

  There had been a sound in the kitchen, but with the protection placed on my home, there shouldn’t be anyone inside. Aron had made certain of that.

  I debated grabbing the sword again but decided against it. That didn’t stop me from reaching for my magic. The practice had helped me get more confident with reaching it so that I could delve toward it without fear that I wouldn’t be able to reach it.

  Then I started toward the kitchen.

  After the attack last night, my heart hammered. It was probably nothing more than my imagination and I’d end up blasting my kitchen with magic when I should be cleaning up. There was a pile of dishes that weren’t going to clean themselves.

  Stepping into my kitchen, half convinced that I’d imagined the whole thing, I nearly blasted Gramps in the face. “Gramps? What are you doing here?”

  I let out the connection to magic, and it sizzled away, hitting the floor. Thankfully, the protections Aron had placed managed to catch that magic and it didn’t go anywhere. I’m not sure what I would have done otherwise.

  “Katie, you are home! Cyn—she’s here,” he called out.

  Gran appeared from the living room, a pair of wine glasses in hand. “Katie? What happened to you?”

  I looked down at my scrubs again. I really had to change them. I didn’t need everyone seeing the blood splatter on them. All that did was lead to questions. “What are you doing here?” Could they have heard about the attack last night? Probably. They served the council, so it wasn’t too surprising that they should get word on attacks like that, but I had hoped to keep it from them a little longer. And how had they gotten in?

  “Council business, dear. That’s all.”

  I arched a brow. Gran could be so dismissive with me. I hated that it annoyed me, but it did, probably more than it should. “That’s the reason you came to my home and broke in? If there’s something you need, you could just tell me what it is. I’m a big girl and can take it.”

  Gramps looked at Gran. “You shouldn’t keep things from her, Cyn.”

  “When it comes to council business, you don’t get to tell me what to do, Veran.” There was an edge of heat in her voice. I’d learned to respect that edge when I was a kid, knowing that it was better to avoid her when she got like this. I didn’t want to be the target of her wrath.

  “Why are you here? Does it have anything to do with what happened last night?” Just like when I was a kid, it was best to admit the truth.

  “See? She can handle it.”

  “If she can handle it, we wouldn’t have needed to send knights to protect her.”

  “You sent the knights?”

  “There were dark mages, Katie. They follow that magic. Besides, you know we couldn’t let them—”

  I rounded on Gramps, cutting him off. “Did you know they would target me? Aron seemed to come awfully fast.”

  He glanced over at Gram, frowning. “Aron was here?”

  I nodded. “Because you sent him, I’m sure.”

  “We didn’t send him.”

  “S
o he’s gone rogue again?” During the demon attack, there had been a belief that Aron had gone rogue. I had a hard time imagining that. At all. He was nothing if not the obedient servant of the council. Other than when it came to me. If he were so obedient, he would have reported me to the council—and maybe he thought that he had by telling my grandparents.

  “Not rogue. The archers are given a certain bit of freedom,” Gran said, waving her hand dismissively. She took the glasses to the sink and began to rinse them. I thought she might put them away, but instead she found a bottle of wine and poured a glass, offering it to me.

  “It’s morning, Gran.”

  “Morning or not, there’s always time for a glass of wine.”

  “Not when you have to work.”

  Which I did.

  And forgotten until now.

  Shit.

  “Listen. It’s great the two of you are here, and I’d love to hear more about why you felt the need to send knights after me, but right now I really need to shower and change and get to work.”

  “You’re going to work even knowing what happened?”

  I turned to them and the frustration of the night along with my tiredness came out. It wasn’t that I wanted to snap, but after everything that I’d just been through, it seemed the only option I had was irritation.

  “And what happened? As far as I know, there were dark mages who showed up at my house because of something that happened at work the council should be aware of. From what Aron said, the council has increased their attacks on the dark mages since the demon king summons.” I glanced from one to the other. “They shouldn’t even know about me, not with what happened to Lexy.” The words lingered in the air. Gran made no point of looking away, so I sighed and shook my head. “Thank you for sending the knights to protect me, but I wish you wouldn’t have needed to. All I want is to have a normal life.”

  I had started to turn away when Gramps grabbed my arm. “Why should the council be aware of what happened at work?” His voice was soft, gentle, and broke through my irritation.

  “Because someone from the council came to my work. A patient came in and I thought he had been magically attacked and before I knew what I was doing, I was trying to help him.”