Mages Unbound: Book 2 of the Fifth Mage War Page 3

  “Cordelia!” Mary said, her eyes widening. “I thought you were the mage technician.” She couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that Cordelia was here.

  “Can I come in?” Cordelia asked when Mary just stood there.

  “Of course,” Mary replied, shaking herself into motion and stepping back so Cordelia could enter.

  “What are you doing here?” She asked, closing the door behind her sister, before leading the way towards the living room. Cordelia followed, dropping her waterproof bag on the floor before sitting heavily on the chair beside it.

  “I don’t know. Honestly, I wasn’t sure where I should go, so I just asked the Atlantic to take me where I needed to be. And here I am.” Cordelia wasn’t sure why she said that. She must be more tired than she realized — usually, she was more circumspect with Mary. Before she could correct herself, Mary spoke.

  “Thomas told me everything,” Mary said tightly. She was starting to feel the wellspring of anger she had tried to summon earlier today bubble up.

  “Thomas?” Cordelia repeated.

  “He told me that you and he are sirens and that you’ve been lying to me since you could talk. Oh, and that Mom’s still alive.” Mary’s tone was oddly flat, but Cordelia again heard the ominous swell of the sea playing through. How strange that she had never noticed the sound of the sea in Mary’s voice before.

  “I’m a siren,” Cordelia said hesitantly, her eyes widening in surprise as she got out the last word. “I’m a siren! I’m a siren!” she repeated with increasing fervor.

  Something about Cordelia’s mynah-bird-like repetition struck Mary as funny. “Stop saying that. You sound like an idiot,” she said, but a grin pulled at the corner of her mouth, and the knot of rage in her gut loosened.

  “I can’t believe I can say it. I mean, I thought the geas had broken … Titania said she couldn’t sense it anymore … but I hadn’t realized it might have been broken on more than just me! Oh my God, Mary! You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to tell you everything!” Cordelia’s genuine delight made Mary remember why she loved her youngest sister.

  “Why couldn’t you tell me?” Mary asked plaintively.

  “I couldn’t get the words out … oh, I tried — especially when I was little — but I just couldn’t say it. And then, you couldn’t have heard it anyway. But now you can! I can’t believe I broke the geas that’s bound us up for fifteen hundred years!” Cordelia’s voice was filled with wonder.

  “You broke it? Thomas said his girlfriend broke it,” Mary asked.

  “Thomas?” Cordelia replied, confused. “Where’s Thomas?”

  “I have no idea where Thomas is,” Mary said in a rapid staccato. “A week or so ago, I was driving to work, and while I was stopped in traffic, something knocks me over. That’s when it must have happened. Then, Thomas calls and tells me—” Mary took a deep breath. “— tells me that we’re sirens, and somehow you were born a siren, but Amy and I are latents, and then he turned into one, but there was this curse from the Third Mage War ...”

  Mary shook her head before looking at Cordelia. “You know how bad Thomas is at explaining anything. He was practically incoherent. Until he tells me that Mom’s alive and that everyone’s been lying to me for most of my life!”

  Since telling Mike what had happened, Mary had been in a kind of limbo. Thomas’ tale had seemed like a nonsensical fairy tale, except Thomas didn’t lie to her … wouldn’t lie to her about something like this. Except he had, and so had Cordelia. The hot knot of anger tightened in Mary’s chest.

  But her little sister just looked a little deflated. “So freeing the Aos Sí didn’t break the curse.”

  “What curse? What do the Aos Sí have to do about anything?” Mary demanded. Now was not the time for Cordelia to go off on a tangent.

  “I just thought … assumed, I guess … that my promise to help the Aos Sí somehow caused the geas to lift. So Thomas broke the Atlantic Curse,” Cordelia said in a thoughtful voice.

  “Thomas didn’t do anything. His mage cast a spell or something and broke it. I almost died, Cordelia! I was driving when it felt like a ton of bricks hit me. I could have gotten into an accident!” Mary said, thinking that, as usual, Cordelia was focused on the wrong things.

  “Thank God you’re all right,” Cordelia said sincerely. “It knocked me down also, but I was in the fae preserve. Is everyone else okay?”

  Mary looked at her sister. It hadn’t occurred to her that Cordelia or Thomas might have been affected by the spell breaking.

  “Everyone’s fine.”

  “That’s a relief.” Cordelia shook her head. “It’s incredible, really. I can’t believe a mage was able to break Morgan le Fay’s binding. I mean, it’s not like people haven’t been trying for centuries. That curse is responsible for more siren deaths than the War itself. It feels like you’re being strangled when you try to tell a latent about sirens. It’s practically as bad as—”

  “You mean you’ve tried to tell me about this before?” Mary interrupted.

  “Oh my God, Mary! So many times. Not that you would have understood. Latents couldn’t even hear the word ‘siren’ before. When I was little, it was so confusing. I could tell my human friends — though their parents thought I had an overactive imagination — but I couldn’t say anything to my own family! You used to call me a cry baby because I’d try to tell you something, then the geas would wrap around and choke me. It hurt! And I couldn’t tell you why, of course. I hated being thought of as a cry baby. I never cry. Not anymore …” Cordelia’s voice trailed off.

  Mary slumped back against the couch. “I just don’t understand any of this!”

  “I know Thomas sucks at explaining stuff, but he should have tried a bit harder.” Cordelia got out of the chair and sat down next to Mary.

  “Well, he hasn’t called again.” Mary snorted, and Cordelia rolled her eyes in agreement with her sister’s implicit critique. Their brother was notorious for not calling.

  “Well, I’m glad to tell you everything!” Cordelia declared with a tone of relief. “Finally!”

  Mary looked at her sister expectantly, but Cordelia hesitated. There was so much to say, she didn’t know where to start. Their mother had written a whole textbook on the subject, after all.

  “Mom’s book!” Cordelia exclaimed, getting off the couch.

  “I’m so sick of hearing about this book!” Mary said with exasperation as she watched Cordelia head towards the kitchen. Just tell me already!” Mary called after her, getting up to follow. “Where are you going?”

  “I put it with the cookbooks. It’s kind of funny, I know. But when I was younger, I used to refer to it a lot and didn’t want to lug it with me every time I came to the States. You only use your cookbooks around the holidays, so I figured the look-away glamour would be enough to keep it safe.”

  Cordelia bent down to look at the cookbooks in the island shelves, pulling out a book with a solid black cover.

  “Here it is,” she said with great satisfaction.

  “That’s Mom’s book?” Mary asked. It didn’t look like much — a thick book with a dusty black cover. Mary couldn’t focus on it.

  “Put it away, Cordelia. It’s giving me a headache.”

  Cordelia took a dishcloth off the counter and wrapped the book inside. “Stupid glamour! I’ll see if one of the dryads can cast a counter. It’s spelled so that no one but an active siren can read it, and there’s a look-away on the cover that’s supposed to make mundanes ignore it.”

  Cordelia kept the book out of Mary’s view as she walked back into the living room, flipping through the pages as she went. Mary followed her, a bit nonplussed at all the magick that had suddenly entered her life. No, that had been revealed after being hidden from her for so long.

  “Let me just see how Mom started. She’s so much better at explaining stuff like this — even though she tends to lecture.” Cordelia turned back to Mary with a grin, but Mary was standing still at the threshold.
She wasn’t smiling.

  “Mary, what’s wrong?” Cordelia asked.

  “I can’t believe Mom’s alive!” Mary’s voice broke, and she swallowed. “Mom’s alive, and you and Thomas knew it and didn’t tell me. You lied to me. She lied to me. And that’s not part of any geas!” Mary blinked rapidly and caught her breath. She didn’t feel angry anymore. She just felt hurt.

  “Oh, Mary, that’s not how it was!” Cordelia said, genuinely upset. She dropped the book on the couch and came over to take her sister’s hands.

  “It was such a terrible time,” Cordelia said, her brow wrinkling as she remembered just how awful it had been. “Thomas was completely out of it! But you don’t know any of this.”

  She squeezed her sister’s hands. “No one wanted to lie to you. You have no idea how much Mom fought to keep you! To keep all of us together! Most active sirens never move back to the human world. But she really tried. Honestly, it’s a miracle she was able to manage for so long.”

  When Mary didn’t say anything, Cordelia shook her head.

  “Mary, I’m so sorry!” She reached out to hug her older sister, but Mary just stood there stiffly. “Please, Mary. Just sit down, and I’ll try to explain.”

  The doorbell rang, and Mary was relieved that something ordinary was finally happening. She checked her watch — four-thirty. The technician was late — definitely ordinary.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” the technician apologized when Mary opened the door. “I left a voicemail after I got held up on an earlier appointment.” The short, middle-aged man was wearing a black t-shirt over blue jeans. He looked like he worked out a lot; his arms bulged, and he seemed solid as opposed to paunchy.

  Mary gestured him inside, glancing out past him. A black van with “Danjou Enterprises” stenciled in pale blue stood parked in the no-parking zone. He hadn’t left the hazards on. Well, if he wants to risk getting towed, that’s his problem, she thought.

  The technician walked in, putting little blue baggies over his sneakers. Not that Mary really minded street shoes in the house; still, it was a nice gesture.

  “Hello,” the technician said in an odd voice. Cordelia was still by the kitchen entrance, and the technician had paused midway, staring at her.

  “Hi,” Cordelia replied. “Why is a mage-technician here?” she asked Mary. The technician didn’t move, he just stood there holding his workbag.

  “He’s here to fix the garbage disintegrator,” Mary answered, walking swiftly toward the kitchen. “It’s in here. I didn’t know it was such a big deal to put glass into it.”

  “The machines are tricky,” the technician said, starting to follow, but he kept looking at Cordelia. “I’ve got a real knack with them, though.” He paused when he reached her, tilting his head to one side as he stared. “You’re a vision of light, did you know that? You’re no mage, but you shine with magick!”

  “And you’re a mage?” Cordelia asked, eying him.

  “Yes. Henry Grace of the Danjou.” Henry opened his bag and fumbled for a moment before leaning close to hand her his card.

  “Back up a bit, Henry Grace, you’re crowding me,” Cordelia said. There was a resonance to her voice that echoed oddly in the room. Henry moved quickly in response to Cordelia’s request, his mouth breaking into a broad smile.

  “The disintegrator is in the kitchen island through there,” Mary said, gesturing past her sister.

  Henry didn’t answer; his full attention was on Cordelia.

  “It’s worse than it was before,” Cordelia said in an undertone, then pointed towards the kitchen. “Right through there, Henry. Go on and show me how well you can repair it.” Cordelia walked back towards the couch where the book lay. “Then, I think I may have another spell I need you to cast.”

  Henry pulled himself up straighter, his eyes shining with happiness as he went into the kitchen.

  “What do you mean, another spell?” Mary asked Cordelia.

  “You can’t read this book right now. Just because the geas was broken doesn’t mean the glamours and look-aways were removed. I don’t think they’re really complicated spells — maybe this technician can counter them.”

  “I don’t want to read that stupid book!” Mary exclaimed. She could barely bring herself to look at Cordelia while she held it; she thought Cordelia had underestimated the glamour’s strength.

  “I’m not very good with spells, but I am quite good at calibrating the silica,” Henry called out. Mary and Cordelia walked into the kitchen; they couldn’t see him from where they were standing because he’d crouched down behind the island to start disassembling the disintegrator.

  “A little glass usually won’t knock this machine out of balance. It’s one of the upgraded models. Too many people were dropping shards in them every time they broke a glass, so they redesigned the line. These newer garbage disintegrators can handle that. I’m surprised — oh, I see. Yeah, there’s a lot of glass in here.”

  Henry pulled heavy rubber gloves out of his bag, along with a wooden crate. It was odd; there didn’t seem to be nearly enough room in his bag for all the things he had in there. Mary and Cordelia stood at either side of the island, watching.

  “While these translocation enchantments are incredibly powerful, the objects have to be disintegrated first. Disintegration spells don’t work on glass, you know.” Henry looked up at Cordelia, who nodded in agreement, although she didn’t really care how magical appliances worked, as long as they worked.

  “I’ll have to clean it out before I can refresh the silica-salt levels. Then it should be good as new.” Henry reached into the bottom of the machine to pull out the glass, methodically putting the bottles into the wooden crate.

  “That is a lot of glass,” Cordelia remarked, eyeing the number of liquor bottles he was taking out.

  “I didn’t know it was a problem,” Mary said defensively.

  “Don’t you recycle glass?” Cordelia asked.

  “They kept changing the rules on what could be recycled. It got to be such a pain, I just stopped.” Mary shrugged. She probably should have paid more attention.

  “Well, like I said, the disintegration spells don’t work on silica compounds. You can drop the bottles in, but they’ll eventually clog up the machine. If you clear it out yourself once in a while, you won’t have to wait for a service appointment to open up. It’s not that hard.”

  “Can you show me how to do that?” Mary asked.

  Cordelia flipped through her mother’s book while Henry showed Mary how to operate the garbage disintegrator. Such an absurdly expensive appliance. You’d think that if the Danjou were really re-selling all the raw materials back to the factories, they’d want more people to own them.

  “Why are disintegrators so expensive?” Cordelia asked after Henry finished showing Mary how she could de-glass and reset the machine.

  “The large scale municipal models are actually more cost-effective to the customer per pound of trash. But the household units?” He shook his head. “Not much salvageable material in ordinary household garbage to make it worth the hassle. These spells are more finicky than air conditioners, so you typically need mage-technicians like me to service them. And there aren’t enough of us to go around.”

  Henry looked at Cordelia as he stripped off his gloves and flexed his biceps. “Time for some magick.”

  Mary and Cordelia watched as he stared intently at the open disintegrator. While it didn’t look like anything was happening, Cordelia could see his eyes shift around as if he were focusing on something.

  “Got it,” Henry said with satisfaction. “I’ll just top up the silica-salt reservoir, and you should be good to go.” He pulled a white plastic box out of his bag along with a clear syringe the size of his hand. The mage inserted the needle into the box and pulled the plunger out until the syringe was maybe a tenth full of what looked like glittery white sand.

  “It doesn’t seem to need much,” Mary said, wondering how much even this little bit was goin
g to cost her. Ever since the Arabian embargo, the Danjou were charging a fortune for silica-salt.

  “These gauges are designed for the industrial size disposals. Yours barely needs any silica-salt.” Henry assured her, pushing the syringe against the front of the disposal. The sand seemed to coat the entire outside of the unit, before being absorbed within.

  He started packing his stuff back up. “Well, that’s that. I’ll just make out the service statement — office wanted me to charge you, on account of the glass — but if I leave this crate of glass here with you, I’ll just say it had a silica leak, and that’s covered under your plan.” He winked at Cordelia, who smiled back at him.

  “That’s so kind of you,” Cordelia said. Henry’s eyes glazed over again, and he adjusted his pants. She usually didn’t have this kind of effect. She hadn’t even compelled him to do anything, and he was semi-erect already.

  “If you could just write that up, we’d really appreciate it,” she murmured.

  Henry pulled a little book out of his bag and started diligently writing out the statement.

  “Cordelia!” Mary said, walking over and pulling her to the side of the kitchen. “What’s going on?” she demanded in a whisper.

  “I’m a siren, Mary. It’s nothing new. I mean, this is a bit more of a reaction than usual, but it takes a lot of effort to dampen the effect.”

  Mary glanced back at the technician. Did he even realize what was happening?

  “Don’t worry about him. Everyone likes the feel of the siren spell. It won’t hurt him. And I think I can get Mom’s book counter-spelled for you today,” Cordelia said.

  Mary thought she seemed awfully cavalier about the whole thing, but then, she supposed this was normal for her sister. She frowned slightly as she thought about some of her sister’s odd behavior over the years. At the time, she’d just chalked it up to Cordy being peculiar. Now though, Cordy’s “agoraphobia,” her little sister hiding in her room whenever Mary had friends over … all of these little peculiarities seemed less strange and more sad.

  While Mary was engrossed in her reflections, Cordelia took the dishcloth off the book and considered the best way to do this. Mary wasn’t as prim as Mom, but Cordelia still remembered the shock on Thomas’s face the first time he saw her use a compulsion. She suppressed a giggle at the recollection.