Wicked Wings (Lizzie Grace 5)
“I’m sure Eli would have loved that,” Belle commented.
“The oldest of his sisters was at that drunk enough to be argumentative stage, so he was seriously considering doing it himself.”
“Wouldn’t they have sensed it?” I asked curiously. “They’re all witches, aren’t they?”
“Growing up with three younger sisters made him very adept at concealing spells. For a start, it was the only way he could keep them from snooping in his room and stealing his things.” He tugged the plastic bags out of his pocket. “Shall we do this here, or in your reading room?”
I hesitated. “While a locator spell is rarely dangerous, we’ve no true idea what we’re dealing with, so caution is the better option.”
He nodded and continued on into the room. I picked up my coffee and followed, but Belle and Aiden remained at the table. Aside from the reading room being on the smallish side, Belle could follow events through our connection.
If there’s an event to follow, she commented. It’s been hours since we found those feathers, and the resonance was fading fairly fast.
Ashworth is a more knowledgeable spell caster than us, so he should succeed where we can’t. I closed the door, then moved around to the table and sat opposite Ashworth.
I’m glad you didn’t say he’s stronger magically. Her voice was dry. Because he’s not, you know. Not these days.
The wild magic hasn’t altered my magic capabilities that much, Belle.
I wouldn’t bet on that.
Neither would I, if I was being at all honest. I took a sip of coffee. “What’s the plan?”
He placed the plastic bags on the table. “Given how quickly the echoes were fading, we’ll use your psychometry skills to pick the feather with the strongest resonance, and then weave a locator around it.”
“The only locator spells I know are fairly basic—”
Liar, liar, came Belle’s comment,
Enough comments from the peanut gallery, if you please.
As her chuckle ran through my mind, Ashworth said, “Which is why I’ll be doing it rather than you.”
I nodded. “What happens if the shape shifter is also magic capable?”
“They’re very rare beasts—”
“Then how do you account for the magic clinging to the feathers?”
“It could be nothing more than the innate magic every shifter or werewolf possess that allows them to shift—”
“Except it isn’t magic that gives them that ability, but rather DNA adaptions.”
“Yes, but it’s magic that covers the change and saves the rest of us from being grossed out.” He motioned toward the feathers. “The sooner we start, the better chance we’ll have.”
I somewhat reluctantly unzipped the top of the plastic bag and then upended it, letting the feathers float to the table. Only one held any resonance, and even that was barely detectable. I picked it up and opened the psychic gates. No images swarmed my mind, and there was no sense of where the shifter was or what she might be doing. Going deeper didn’t help; too much time had elapsed, and the connection between this feather and the shifter was all but severed.
“Anything?” Ashworth asked, a touch impatiently.
“Yes, but it’s too vague for my psi abilities. It might even be too vague for a spell.”
He grunted and plucked the feather from me. After a moment, his power rose; the protections within the room stirred briefly in response and then died down when no threat eventuated. I narrowed my gaze and watched him weave the various threads around the feather. While I couldn’t always remember the exact wording of a spell, I could generally visualize the patterns and then repeat it. It certainly wasn’t the approved way of doing things, but it had always worked for Belle and me.
When he tied off and then activated the spell, the threads sparkled lightly, an indication that the spell was not only working but also feeding him information.
“Unfortunately, the link to our shifter remains tenuous,” he said, “so we’ll need to get a move on if we’re to have hope of tracking her down.”
“Any luck?” Aiden asked as we both came out.