Power Streak Page 21

  “Right. Yes, of course, Lady Jasmine. It’s just that, well, it’s not something I’ve seen before is all. And for someone who’s lived and experienced as much as I have, that’s quite rare, you see. When you combine my experience with the vast amounts of experience Lords Albacus and Mordecai have amassed … well, that’s nearly as bizarre as the rest of it.”

  “We’ve never seen anything like this,” Mordecai said, jingling his pocket in what was clearly a habit, suggesting that pocket of his robes held the runes he was reputed to have such a fondness for. His eyes clouded over as if he missed the tinkling sound of them rustling in his pocket.

  I wondered what had happened since the last time I saw them. The runes had tinkled then, as had the beads in their hair.

  “So you’ve suggested,” Ky said, his tone overly patient as if he were working really hard not to flip out on them the same way I wanted to. “Please, don’t keep us in suspense.”

  That seemed to do it. The wizards nodded their heads curtly in identical expressions of resolve, and Sir Lancelot tipped his head to them, giving them the floor.

  “Best we can figure it out,” Albacus began, “the pendant Jas wears is a powerful magical object that the paranormal community had believed to be out of circulation.”

  “That’s right.” Mordecai ran a long-fingered hand along the braids of his beard. “Many centuries ago, it was said to have disappeared. It belonged to Grand Witch Eloise of Damascus. Though neither my brother nor I had the pleasure of meeting her before she passed, her reputation still lives on.”

  Albacus nodded. “Few witches in the history of magic were more powerful than she. From all accounts, she was remarkable.”

  “That she was,” Sir Lancelot added wistfully. “Never was there a witch or woman graceful and powerful in the ways she was. She wore her magic like a fine perfume, as elegant as a fresh spring day and as charged as the tension in the sky before a lightning storm. What a beautiful, exotic woman. I haven’t met anyone quite like her since.”

  As Sir Lancelot had lived like a thousand years, that was saying something.

  “I was ever so saddened to hear of her death,” the owl added.

  Albacus waved his index finger in the air another time. “That’s the thing. No one knows exactly what happened to Lady Eloise. For all intents and purposes, she died to the world.”

  “As time passed, she was assumed dead,” Mordecai continued. “She had plenty of enemies, all desiring her power. Any number of them would have benefited from claiming her magic.”

  “But that’s the odd thing.” The brothers bounced back and forth, like they’d been doing this their entire lives. “None of her peers suddenly experienced a surge in power.”

  “None that was noted in the history books at least.” Mordecai cast a confirming glance at Sir Lancelot. Older than them, and with a memory as good as mine, he was a tiny, living, breathing encyclopedia of magical history.

  Sir Lancelot was already shaking his head, his feathers puffing out with the movement. “I paid close attention to the happenings surrounding Lady Eloise’s disappearance, and there was nothing of note beyond her sudden absence. As well known as she was at the time, it wouldn’t have been easy for her to disappear without a trace unless … unless something foul did actually happen to her.”

  The owl appeared to be reliving the loss of her disappearance all over again. His small owlish face drew in with heavy lines of sorrow.

  “And what does this have ta do with ma bestie’s pendant?” Roberta asked. “Are ya suggestin’ her pendant is the same one this Eloise had?”

  “That’s exactly what we’re suggesting,” Albacus said. “My brother and I discovered an entry in Rufus Roodle’s Remarkable Recounting of the Magical History of the Renaissance in which he describes Lady Eloise’s pendant in great detail.”

  “Its description matches the pendant Jas wears—” Mordecai pointed to my chest and the pendant that lay atop it all innocently—“…precisely.”

  Because I didn’t want to let go of Ky’s hand, I tried to stop petting Why to touch my pendant. The second my hand left his back, he started whining. Huffing, I switched out the hands, feeling the absence of Ky’s warmth acutely though I refused to let on to the fact, and clutched at my pendant.

  It was cool to the touch as if it never caused any trouble at all.

  “That,” Albacus said, extending his gnarled index finger toward the violet triangular gem, “is the Grand Witch Lady Eloise of Damascus’ famed pendant.”

  “We’re nearly sure of it,” his brother added.

  “Nearly?” Ky said, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. “Is nearly enough when Jas’ life is in danger?”

  “Wait. No one said anything about my life being in danger,” I protested. Or maybe they’d suggested it, but only because of my leg’s agonizingly slow recovery, right?

  I looked between Sir Lancelot, the brothers, Melinda, and the fairies. When they didn’t appear in any hurry to answer, I studied Adalia, Roberta, and Ky. I didn’t bother with Why as he rolled his face on the sheets, waving his furry butt in the air.

  “Well?” I prompted when no one filled in the dense silence and I’d had more than enough of this whole mystery shit. I chuckled nervously. “Am I dying or something?”

  Ky squeezed my shoulder, and I looked up to meet his waiting gaze. I didn’t like the concern weighing down those copper eyes I enjoyed so much.

  Sir Lancelot sighed heavily. “The pendant is draining your power.”

  “That’s not possible,” I said right away. “It’s been giving me powers.”

  But the protest died the moment it crossed my lips. Then what was going on with my shift?

  “Ah, so you have noticed,” Mordecai said, jiggling his pocket again. This time, the slightest tinkle emerged from his robes as the stones clinked against each other and he smiled at the change. “Did you hear that, brother?”

  “I did.” Albacus beamed, shaking his head. The beads at the end of his braids chinked softly. “Our magic is restoring itself.”

  “What?” I asked abruptly. I was trying to be patient, I really was, but come on. Could they spit things out already?

  “We’re only half alive, as you know…” Mordecai said.

  “And we used quite a lot of our magic in attempting to solve the little problem of your pendant.” Albacus pointed at my necklace again, as if there were more than one naughty problem pendant in the healing wing. “As we used our magic, there was less of it to fuel the spell that keeps us alive.”

  “I see,” I said, though I only partly did. More importantly, I didn’t care overly much when getting them to spill about my pendant and my situation was like pulling teeth from a giant troll who had rows of them like theater seats.

  “Boys,” Roberta said, sounding like she was talking to some of her gazillion children and not the founders of the finest magical academies around the globe, “can ya focus here? I need ta know how my girl’s doin’—before I die of old age, if ya don’t mind.”

  Bunnies as wily and mean as Roberta probably never died, but that was beside the point. I gave her a mental fist bump. She caught me looking at her and grinned.

  “Right you are,” Mordecai said. “Lady Eloise’s pendant was reputed to contain immeasurable power.”

  “Okay, so that’s good, right?” I said a little too quickly. “That would make sense. I was experiencing more power than I’d ever had before. I was wishing…” I trailed off, unsure if I wanted to explain what I’d done with the pendant’s magic. Certainly, I was in no hurry to explain the predicament of the Bitchy Bunch. Karma could play out its course, even if I’d been the one to set Karma on its path.

  “Yes, that’s how the pendant works,” Albacus said, before adding, “At first.” His bushy, hoary eyebrows settled low over his eyes, suggesting that this was where shit was about to get dicey. “When the person first puts the pendant on, the person—you, in this case—begins to absorb the pendant’s power. But that’s o
nly until the pendant adapts to the signature of your magical energy. After that point, it begins to drain your magic.”

  “Eventually, it will drain your life force as well.” Mordecai didn’t need to expound on his statement for it to sink like a boulder to the pit of my gut.

  “But … but how did this Eloise handle it if that’s the case?” Adalia asked. “Are you suggesting the pendant is what actually killed her? Made her disappear all those centuries ago?”

  “It’s possible, child,” Mordecai said, “but we don’t think that’s what happened.”

  “We still aren’t certain as to what caused her disappearance,” his brother added, “though we think it wasn’t the pendant. Her body was never found, but by all accounts she wore it without problem for over a century.”

  “Now Lady Jasmine wears her pendant.” Sir Lancelot swept a wingtip in my direction.

  “So then what are ya sayin’ ‘xactly?” Roberta pressed. “‘Cause y’all are takin’ the roundabout path to a clear answer.”

  “What we’re saying,” Mordecai answered, “is that the pendant is a highly advanced magical object. So advanced that its mastery perhaps even challenged the Grand Witch Eloise. From what we can gather, the magical object’s purpose is to draw magic to itself—in theory, for the practitioner who is master to the pendant—to eventually use.”

  “However,” Albacus warned, “if the practitioner does not master the pendant, the pendant will draw the power of the practitioner into itself until there’s no more.”

  “No more?” I squeaked.

  “That’s right. Until the pendant has drained you of all energy you possess.”

  “Surely there’s a way to stop it from happening,” Ky said. “With magic, there’s always a way.”

  “Agreed, my boy,” Mordecai said with a pleased nod. “That’s exactly how my brother and I think.”

  “And that’s why we won’t stop until we’ve figured out the way to help your friend,” Albacus stated.

  “My girlfriend,” Ky corrected, but he sounded distracted, and I couldn’t even work up the enthusiasm to celebrate his affirmation of our status.

  What the wizards were saying, in a ridiculously annoying, roundabout way, was that my pendant might just kill me. For real.

  And joy of joys, I couldn’t even take it off.

  There was no running from my predicament.

  The only way to solve it was to figure out the magical object’s secrets, tricks, and loopholes, and as far as I could tell, the pendant wasn’t talking.

  27

  Melinda patted my arm, her eyes glittering wells of compassion. I stared into their depths and almost choked on the overwhelming concern she felt for me. Quickly, I snapped my gaze away, glued on Why. I didn’t want to look too closely at anyone just then, and Why was a guaranteed distractor. He was currently chewing on the sheet.

  “Lords Albacus and Mordecai,” Adalia said, breaking the pocket of heavy silence, “if all you say is true, and I’m of course not arguing it isn’t, then how is it that Jas ended up with the sirangel Selene’s magic? Selene is certain Jas possesses it, and we can safely assume that’s through the pendant.”

  All attention but mine and Why’s swept across the expanse of the healing wing to a shadowed area where the floating lanterns were dimmer than those in the rest of the room.

  I bobbed my head in an attempt to make out what they were looking at. My breath hitched when three figures coalesced out of the deep shadows, all of them hovering over a bed.

  In that bed lay a limp, unmoving lump.

  “Is that…?”

  “Yeah, Selene’s here too,” Ky said. “Quinn, Liana, and Brogan are with her.”

  “I should really go check on her,” Melinda fretted. “She hasn’t been doing well.”

  Blinking into the dimness of the far corner of the room, I finally made out the outlines of Selene’s feet in the bed and cascades of long hair spread out along her pillow. She was far too still. Clearly her condition had worsened significantly since I last saw her at the lake.

  “Is she going to be all right?” I asked while the badger patted my arm some more.

  “I’ll do everything in my power to ensure that’s the case,” she said, her kind smile strained. “I haven’t lost a student in a decade.”

  Melinda scampered across the healing room, her skirts clutched in her paws as Sir Lancelot flapped his wings to land on the small, bare night table at the side of my bed.

  Fianna and Nessa flew to the same petite table, sinking onto its corners like they were exhausted. Fianna leaned back into her diminutive hands and crossed her legs at the knee. Her tiny grape seed eyes pinned on mine as if I were somehow defying her. I didn’t even have the excess energy to ask her what her problem with me was.

  “From what we’ve managed to piece together,” Sir Lancelot said, “Selene’s power may have transferred to your pendant through the determinator.”

  Sighing, I brought my head back to the pillow, waiting for more. I was going to end up with a crick in my neck if I kept straining to look at the owl and little fairies.

  “The pygmy trolls manning the administration office provided a detailed account of what happened when you checked in. And Selene is the student who reported in immediately before you.”

  “So the determinator takes our power?” Ky asked with a rumbly edge to his question.

  Go Ky! Because shit, the determinator should come with a mile-long scroll of fine-print warnings if that was the case.

  Mordecai and Albacus shook their heads in unison, the tinkling sound of their beads knocking into each other growing louder. Albacus smiled around his beard and bushy mustache.

  “The determinator isn’t designed to do any such thing,” he said.

  “We think the pendant may have used it as a transference tool,” Mordecai added, but he didn’t sound sure.

  “As in, the determinator didn’t actually hold on to Selene’s powers. It just allowed the pendant to access them?” Ky asked.

  “Something like that.”

  “I don’t think ‘something like that’ is going to cut it,” I snapped, huffing out the full extent of my exasperation.

  “We’re not planning on settling,” Mordecai assured me. “The moment we finish speaking with you, we’ll be diving into our research some more. You said this Professor Hettie Hapblomb is now back?” the wizard asked of the owl.

  “That’s right, Milord. She should have returned not long after us.”

  “That’s very good.” Mordecai jiggled the pocket of his robe again as if the clinking of his runes were soothing to him. “Perhaps she may have a different way of looking at this magical object we haven’t thought of yet.”

  “I also wouldn’t mind getting a look at this guinea pig you’ve mentioned.” Albacus grinned at Sir Lancelot before adopting a severe seriousness. I suspected it was due to the pointed way in which the owl refused to indulge in amusement at the sake of the dark sorcerer Radley Clark Raschund III, whom Rina had transformed into a guinea pig at the end of last term, and Professor Hapblomb had since adopted as a pet. That was one of the least odd things she’d done since joining the staff of the Magical Creatures Academy, on loan from the Magical Arts Academy.

  “What’s up with all these secret meetings?” I asked, since apparently no one else was going to, and I just had to understand what the hell was going on.

  Nessa, with her hand pressed to her tiny little blue halter top in affront, gaped at me.

  Fianna, the mouthier of the fairies, didn’t hold back: “Have you forgotten whom you’re speaking to? You’re in the company of the greatest minds of the entire magical community. You cannot force them to tell you things, especially not with such an informal ‘what’s up’ and—”

  Mordecai lifted a hand that suggested restraint. “It’s quite all right, Fianna, but thank you. I understand how the girl must be feeling. No one likes to be on the receiving end of shrouds of mystery, least of all me.”

&nb
sp; “Or me,” Albacus chimed in.

  “Sir Lancelot.” Mordecai waved a hand at him.

  “Right.” The little owl cleared his throat. “It appears that I may have been wrong about the Voice and the veracity of their claims that they wanted peace. It turns out—”

  “That they don’t want peace at all,” Nessa grumbled. She clapped a tiny hand to her open, rounded mouth, her brows bunched up by her hair line. “Sir Lancelot, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  He smiled fondly at her. “I know you didn’t. It’s an overwhelming situation for all of us.” He pointed those yellow, fiercely intelligent eyes at me and my friends again. “After the death of Rage and the capture of Fury and Laredo, I assumed the Voice was on its way out.” He pursed his beak shut for a few moments. “It turns out they were just regrouping. The Voice has decided peace talks are a waste of time. I fear they were never interested in peace to begin with.”

  “What do they want?” Adalia asked with a slight shake.

  “They want a complete overthrow of our way of life. They don’t want to cooperate with humans. Needless to say, they aren’t interested in protecting humans either. They want an oligarchy where those with the greatest power rule the entire world, human and magical.”

  Silence vibrated until I noticed that Liana and Brogan had edged closer so they could listen in. Quinn remained at Selene’s side.

  “Rage’s death only left an opening for another to take his place as head of the rebel faction of the Shifter Alliance. The Voice has now made it abundantly clear that it wishes to do away with all policing and governing bodies—unless they are their own, and then they want them only to enforce their tyrannical rule.”

  “I think we might’ve met him,” I grumbled, “the new underground leader of the Shifter Alliance.”

  “Yes, from what your friends have told us, it sounds like you did. And there are strong figureheads leading the vampires’ unofficial Undead League and the dark sorcerers as well.”

  “What of the werewolves?” Ky asked.

  “As of now, they’ve refused to be drawn into the Voice’s discussion.”