Praelia Nox Page 3

  A stray beam of sunlight flitted through the window, kissing Peter's hair with red highlights. He was so unbelievably handsome. My eyes slid to his, hazel-gold peering into gray, searching for the ring of green. Everything about him fascinated me. I leaned into him, my free hand sliding around the back of his neck to tug on the ends of his hair, moving him even closer, but then a sharp rap sounded on the roof of the vehicle.

  Ugh. We were about to transfer from my uncle's property in Washington State to the hills outside of San Francisco where my manor house was located. Transporting was bearable ever since we learned we could feel our connection in the nothingness of the between place, but it was lousy timing.

  "Don't think about it," Peter suggested, leaning in for a kiss as the darkness came for us.

  ◆◆◆

  We arrived moments later. Not only could I feel Peter's Light as we traveled, but his lips as well. Not bad. Not bad at all.

  "I bet the cook made more shortbread," I said with a carefree laugh. Now that I was so close to home, excitement welled up inside me. It had been too long. "And probably a million other things."

  "Good. I'm starving. I went straight to Ged's study to meet you two since I was running late."

  The limo rounded a corner, and there it was. A centuries old Irish estate, tucking into the hills against a backdrop of blue from the Pacific Ocean. My eyes followed a path barely visible out the back of the house, leading to the cliffs. A breath hitched in my chest, trapped there by a sudden stab of pain when I thought about the younger me, in the dark of night before my seventeenth birthday had dawned, carrying the ancient urn that held all that was left of my parents.

  Ashes.

  "Why were you late?" I asked him through numbed lips.

  "Overslept. I had a few things to take care of before I went to bed. And we were up later than usual as it was."

  I nodded absently. It was strange. Once the initial pain wore off from remembering the dark period after the car wreck, I was mostly excited to be home again. The truth was, I hadn't spent much time with my parents at the manor. There weren't any lingering images to haunt me. It was still too dangerous to live there on my own, but I decided to come back for a visit more often.

  The limo slowed to a stop. One of the guards on motorcycle escort duty announced our presence. A woman wearing a Rector badge on her uniform validated our traces with him before letting us through. A short ride later and we were there. Rector House.

  "Welcome home, milady," a guard said as she opened my door. She was dressed in my uncle's livery, his crest emblazoned on her identity badge. Armageddon had left some of his staff behind to help monitor the house after I left. I had forgotten.

  "Thank you," I murmured as I stepped onto the asphalt half-circle driveway. I used to wish we had cobblestones, or gravel, like the schools in Europe. It was prettier. But I had to admit, the ride to the door was smoother the way it was.

  "Wow," Peter said. "Huge."

  It was a good description. A large, white rectangle with windows and doors. What else was there to say? But it still had a little old-world charm left in the bricks.

  "Come on, let's go in," I said, suddenly in a hurry. Grabbing Peter's hand, I raced up the stairs and into the foyer, taking a deep breath as I did.

  Shortbread. There were about a hundred other smells too, but they were there. Cook never let me down.

  Peter laughed at my rush but stayed close. I had eaten not long before but my stomach was still growling. Magic burned a lot of calories. I always had room for more.

  I hadn't warned the butler about my arrival, so there wasn't a procession of the higher-ranked servants waiting to greet me. Cook knew I was coming, but she wouldn't have ratted me out. She still saw me as a seven-year-old and was content to let me wander about on my own. Besides, she knew I would go see everyone. Even if there was ranking in their traditional positions, we had never treated our employees, no matter what their jobs, as anything less than our equal. It would have been rude to slip in and then away again without saying hello.

  "Ah," Peter groaned as we entered the kitchen. "I'm in heaven."

  Cook turned to greet us. She was older than my parents, maybe even in her seventies. But she was alert, and strong, and gave the best hugs.

  "Welcome home," she said. Her dark eyes twinkled as I hugged her back. "I made all your favorites. And an extra tin of cookies for that scoundrel, Armageddon."

  I laughed. "Uncle Ged will be lucky if I share," I teased.

  "There are two more for you to take back with you. Hide them well."

  "I will. Cook, meet Peter Makenna. He's my boyfriend." That word still thrilled me, even after six months of dating. In some ways it felt as if we had been together forever. In others, it was still new enough that I felt a little awkward.

  Peter withstood her scrutiny with grace. "Nice to meet you, ma'am," he said, and then shook her hand.

  "He'll do," she said, giving me a wink before heading out the back door to the kitchen gardens. I giggled as we sat at the sturdy wooden table and dug in. Peter filled his plate with roast beef and pearl onions and mashed potatoes. I piled mine with berries and cookies.

  What bliss.

  ◆◆◆

  "Something is definitely hidden back there," Peter confirmed.

  We were in my father's study, having spent over an hour visiting with the staff. It had been locked since before I left home. I leaned into the Earth element and magicked all the dust and cobwebs into the wastebasket near his desk. I slipped over to the massive bookshelves and lay my hand across the shelf nearest the glow the two of us saw as soon as we opened the door.

  "He used Dark to bind it," I said. Peter knew me better than anyone. And he knew my secret. Rectors used the darkness to fight for the light.

  "Can you siphon it off?" he asked. When we had gone on a reconnaissance mission in San Francisco to the mayor's downtown office, there had been a strong protection spell on some files. Breaking through would have broadcast that we had been there. Instead, I sort of borrowed the Dark in the spell, weakening it to a point where nobody would ever notice that we had slipped through. It left me vulnerable to attack while I did it. Peter, too, since he was working with me. But there was nobody in my house to harm us if I did it again.

  "Yeah, no problem." I placed both palms directly over the hot spot left by the spell and opened myself up, soaking in the Dark, pulling it into my core. It swirled and flowed as if it were coming home, blending in as if it had always been a part of me. Except the part that belonged to my father, a deep royal purple trace.

  Light flooded into me, Peter's hand stroking my back as he helped me counterbalance the burden. "Look at that," he breathed in awe.

  Before us stood a door. There was still a bookshelf, real and full of books. Both in the same space, both real. The spell that placed a room where there was also a solid brick wall was ancient, a legacy from centuries before my father ever walked the halls of the manor.

  "Fascinating," I agreed. "It's kind of like Uncle Ged's spell that allows us to spy without anyone knowing a command center is there. Come on, let's go inside."

  We stepped through a dark wooden door, solid and heavy even without the spells that had kept it hidden. The walls were lined with cabinets and shelves, also old wood, with stacks of papers, metal instruments, crystals, and books. In the center of the room was a heavy table, glossy with age and surprisingly clean. In fact, the entire room was spotless. I leaned into the aura of the room and sensed a spell had kept it sterile.

  A small corner shelf held medieval tomes so Dark they were almost impossible to discern through all the wards and curses and spells and charms sealing them closed. It would take me a week to break through all those protections. Not that I wanted to. It was shocking to see such dark magic in my father's study, but his trace was only one of many that sealed them. Maybe they couldn't be destroyed, so they were locked away. At least he hadn't been using them. That would have been too awful.

 
My eyes skipped from shelf to shelf, getting a feel for the room. As expected, the book titles and instruments scattered about were located in areas consistent with the quadrants of the compass.

  "Ged has a secure library like this," Peter mused.

  "Yeah." Every major clan had buildings full of their archives, but this was more personal. A depository for the most important secrets, to hide from outsiders the workings of the clan. Another place to discover more about my heritage. "I think I'll keep it all here. Nobody else is getting through that door. I can come back when I'm ready for the bigger stuff."

  A part of me was dying to dig in, but in the center of a massive stainless steel pedestal stood a shiny gold object that quickly dominated my attention. Books and journals were common, even the ones collected by my ancestors and locked away. But this?

  "I've never seen anything like it," Peter murmured with reverence as he followed my gaze. "Come on, let's check it out."

  I stood before a giant astrolabe, a globe made of separate rings of gold surrounding a centerpiece. Usually every part of an astrolabe was round, but the center was a cross. No, not a cross. A compass rose, triangular shapes forged to point in all the directions of the compass.

  My fingers glided along the inner ring, tracing the runes intricately carved into the surface. I recognized those marks, had worked within their circle for months. It was a three dimensional Wheel of Fortune and Compass Rose, exact in detail to the ones on my workshop floor. They had been my mother's, and unique to the Laurus clan.

  "I wonder why my father kept this in here?" I asked as I stepped aside to allow Peter better access. He leaned closer, studying the small figures of animals around the base, then the other ring with inset shapes of black-lined silver, symbols of different elements and magic, the apex marked with a star coated with a patina in black. "It's practically begging to sit in the sun, soaking in Light." A small stack of papers was tucked between the astrolabe and the back wall. I brought them with me to the table and sat in one of the chairs as I studied them.

  "What do they say? Do you need any help?" Peter couldn't seem to tear himself away, viewing every carving with intense scrutiny. He was good at interpreting symbols and had a better understanding of ancient languages than I did.

  "The notes are in English. I'm okay." I sorted the stack, placing pages with design plans to the side. Peter would want to see those. The other papers were of more interest to me. Several with spells and magic diagrams, and the maker's notes. "Looks like an alchemist created it."

  Not a surprise. Gold was the preferred metal, although I had learned lead was more significant than we knew. But the alchemists, who spent their lives training to work with precious metals, made the best instruments. They knew more about it than anyone, ever.

  "According to this, the work is complete. I can't tell what all the spells are for, but I can feel the cohesion."

  If a magician wanted to work with multiple spells, they had to find a way to weave them together. If the magic was complicated enough, it often took several attempts and there would be gaps until they completed the work. Although neither of us had ever seen it before, we would have been able to tell if something was left in stasis or undone.

  "The last diagram is for a base and mount." My eyes flicked around the room, but none of the contents matched the drawing. "They aren't in here. I'll ask the foreman if he knows of any other orders my father may have placed besides the crystal."

  "Let's take the plans with us. You can have him commission the work if nobody has done so yet. It would be a travesty for this to stay locked away in the dark."

  "Good idea." As I stood, an intense pull came from the shelves of journals, drawing my attention. There was something so familiar about them. I slipped closer and pulled a midnight blue, leather-bound journal off the shelf. "I'll take these, too. They look like magic and business journals." To my surprise, the one I held belonged to my mother. She had helped my father with his business and was always by his side, but my father was the one who handled most of the paperwork.

  I slipped the journals into the small backpack I had grabbed before leaving the castle. I wore a belt pouch since there was always a possibility that I would need to take something with me, but this was my home. I may have other things I wanted to bring back to the castle and brought the bigger bag.

  We found the foreman near the back of the house, overseeing the removal of the glass wall. After a short conversation, he informed me the mount had arrived, although he didn't know what it had been for until I showed him the diagrams of the front yard where the astrolabe was destined to go.

  "It'll look beautiful out there," he said. "You'll be able to see it through the window over the door, too. A lot of planning went into this."

  I turned to follow where he pointed. The Rector crystal over the front door magnified the view of the driveway and yard. Bushes, flowers, trees. I could tell where the astrolabe should go - the balance out there would be complete once it was mounted.

  "Yes, it will. Go ahead with the plans. Let me know when you're done and we'll transport the astrolabe into position when the time comes."

  "Sounds good. Thank you, milady." He inclined his head in acknowledgment and then turned back to answer a question from one of his assistants.

  "Ready to go?" Peter asked. He slipped his hand around mine when I nodded, and we left my ancestral home together.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Ten...

  My aunt usually stuck with the traditional springtime activities and gift exchange during Eostre but this year was different. A formal afternoon soiree was the perfect excuse for so many people to arrive outside the property gates. And all their traces and flashes of light indicating a transfer spell.

  It was the best way to disguise the arrival of the top light magicians in the world.

  Armageddon made sure there weren't any clouds in the sky and the cool weather left only a slight bite in the air. Formal clothing tended to be warmer, anyway.

  I smoothed out a wrinkle from the sage skirt of my afternoon dress as I checked the mirror one last time. My hair was up, ready to pin on the cute little hat lined with flowers, and I slipped on delicate white sandals that matched my fashion belt and sweater. I turned and craned my neck to make sure my skirt wasn't caught up in back and then relaxed when all was hanging down properly. The slight hum of magic infused into the cast iron mirror frame drew my attention. When things died down, I would ask my aunt what the spells were for.

  A rap came from my bedroom. I hurried out of my dressing area and there was Peter, standing in my doorway, handsome in beige khakis and a soft gray polo with a subtle pattern of sage.

  "You look beautiful," he said.

  "Thanks. You don't look half bad, yourself."

  "Ah, such praise. Be still my heart." Peter chuckled as he leaned closer and planted a kiss below my ear. A sigh escaped my lips.

  "We better get out there." The rest of the words caught in my throat.

  "It will be fine." Peter escorted me to the stairs, entwining his fingers with mine as we descended. "You won't have to meet your cousins in the middle of the crowd."

  I focused on the Light emanating from his hand and nodded absently. It was stupid how nervous I felt. Like I was an interloper and was about to be exposed for a fraud. What if they didn't like me?

  "Of course they will. You're Lia. About as awesome as it's possible to be."

  Huh. I must have said that out loud. How embarrassing. I was such a baby. "Of course. That's what everyone thinks," I joked. "In fact, Oberon Taine was just telling me the other day how amazing I am."

  Peter snorted at the thought of my greatest enemy - so far - ever saying such a thing. "You're being ridiculous."

  "Yeah." We reached the ground floor. "Come on, let's go find Aunt Peony. She may need some last-minute help." She had organized the entire event and everything was running smoothly, but if I focused on the celebration, I would quit worrying.

  The castle was adorned w
ith ribbons and flowers. I had never seen anything so incredible. The air smelled heavenly, a blend of sweet-scented floral arrangements and the spicy aroma of lavender and rosemary boughs lining the walkways. We crossed the bailey to the grassy field with the gazebo and additional tents shading the area with tables and chairs and a buffet. The food was already there, magically kept fresh, the hot dishes hot and the cold chilled to the perfect temperature. The servants were off for the holiday and milling around, enjoying themselves.

  There had also been a few early arrivals. Jonathon Robus, head of his clan and close friend waved as he approached.

  "Happy Eostre," he said as he returned my hug. He fought for me in the trials when I was trying to win back the rights to my company. He almost died for my sake. That made him practically family. "You look lovely."

  He wore a light blue button shirt and pocket square with his suit, the color of this clan. "You look nice, too. How are your brothers? Are they here today?"

  "They have prior plans," he murmured as we moved closer to the buffet tables. He offered me a plate, but I declined with a tilt of my head. "I'll make sure my family is prepared."

  Of course he would. As head of his clan, they would listen to what he had to say and act accordingly. The Irregulars worked the same way. There were more agents than I had met, probably more than I ever would. But they each were assigned their own units and leaders who took care of regions across the globe. All of Armageddon's orders and plans were disseminated through them. They were rarely seen together, but that was by design. Jonathon, on the other hand, could freely meet with any member of his clan without rousing suspicion.

  Just in case anyone was watching a family of known allies.

  "How is the business going?" It was mostly small talk for the moment, but I wanted to know. His bloodline worked for Rector Enterprises. Had done so for centuries.

  "Excellent. We've been following your progress with great interest," he replied before he took a sip of his lemonade. My plant manager, Caeli Cael, helped me create a new corporation to track all of my experiments and patent the best of them. Once the mandated three-year holding pattern against changing my company was over, I could merge them and go into full production.