Siphon Magic Read online

  Mitch fled too. Hopefully to do as Vera asked, or Kale would hunt him down.

  “I’m being stupid, aren’t I?” Vera asked Kale.

  “Caring for a helpless creature is not stupid.”

  “Yeah but we’re here to save a lot of people, and I’m worried about a chicken.”

  The hatchery was empty except for them, but Kale was relieved Vera had chosen her words carefully. Witches knew too many ways to listen in on a conversation when they were motivated to do so.

  “I think we can manage to save countless people and one chick too. As long as you’re prepared to let him go if you can’t help him.”

  “You can heal him,” Vera said. “Like Mimi.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Lie,” Vera accused.

  “I don’t have magic, Vera. I can only call on the meadow’s power when there’s no other choice. But there’s a cost. That cost would drive this chick insane. They’d have to put him down for sure.”

  “What’s the cost?”

  He did not want to tell her, but she had a right to know. “When I draw the magic through me, a memory attaches to it. It’s sent into the person I’m healing. For them, it’s like living that experience through my eyes.”

  “What memory did Mimi see?”

  “I’m not sure. But Mimi didn’t see it, she lived it. As though she was me.”

  “And you think the memory was something really bad,” Vera concluded.

  “There’s little good to be found in my memories.”

  “So, she could’ve become a murderer?”

  “Or worse. Now she has to live with the memory of what she did, even though she didn’t do anything wrong.” Kale let out a slow breath. “I did do those things, though. Mimi has to decide whether or not she can forgive me for that too.”

  “It’s all because of me,” said Vera. “Because she tried to rescue me.”

  “Don’t be dumb,” Kale scoffed.

  Vera’s back straightened at his rebuff as he’d intended.

  “Then help me some other way,” said Vera. “Please. This chick doesn’t want to die.”

  Kale frowned. Is she making a general assumption based on the fact that no animal wants to die? Or is it something more than that? He couldn’t ask because Mitch and Gage were back with the requested supplies. Vera busied herself cleaning the bird and trying to coax him to open his beak for some water.

  “Answer a question for me, Mitch,” said Kale when the man drew near. “Do you want to find out who butchered your chicks and poisoned your Maiden?”

  “Right now, it’s all I can think of,” said Mitch.

  “If that person turns out to be a member of your family?” Kale asked.

  “Anyone who’s capable of butchering chicks, and performing the unspeakable magic necessary to make that poison, is no family I’d claim,” Mitch answered.

  “You’d disown them? Just like that?” Kale snapped his fingers.

  “Even if it was my own child.”

  “I have a proposition for you then,” Kale said.

  “I’m listening.”

  “Don’t put the chick down tonight. Give Vera twenty-four hours to try to save him. I’ll give you that twenty-four hours to talk to your family, see if you can learn anything before I step in.”

  “Why would you do that?” Mitch followed Kale’s pointed look at Vera. “Ah, I see how it would be challenging to keep an eye on that one and search for a would-be murderer.”

  “Not would-be. We’re hunting for someone who’s responsible for deaths in this realm and another.” What Kale didn’t admit aloud was that Mitch would be able to get the answers Kale needed faster that Kale could himself. No one wanted to talk to the Guardian.

  “There’s no one here with that kind of magic,” Mitch said, shaking his head.

  “I know you don’t want to believe it could be one of your family, but everything’s led us here,” Kale said.

  “You can rest assured that whoever brought your attention here and endangered the Monroe family will receive no mercy. To be truthful, though, I hope what I find will take your search away from here.”

  “Then you should work quickly,” Kale suggested. “Twenty-four hours starts now.”

  Mitch had only been gone minutes when Gage slunk back inside the hatchery. He’d brought along a coat and mittens for Vera. Sure, the nights got chilly this time of year, but didn’t the fool realize that Vera was practically toasting beneath the heat lamp? Gage cleared his throat to get Vera’s attention then passed her the items. Stars, it’s painful to watch the man fumble. Vera smiled, and Gage blushed to the roots of his hair. When Vera’s attention returned to the chick, Kale angled his body to face Gage, who remained hovering. In Kale’s peripheral, Vera dribbled water on the chick’s beak and tried to get him to swallow some.

  “You’re awfully young to be the Hatchery Master.” Kale pitched his voice low. “Perks of being the son of the Monroe matriarch and patriarch, I guess.”

  “I’m the Hatchery Master because I work hard and do a good job, not because of my parents,” Gage declared.

  “Isn’t it your job to watch over the spring nests and chicks? It doesn’t seem like you’ve done such a great job to me.” Kale indicated the chick.

  Gage’s face turned red, his gloved hands gripped the stall door tighter. When his work gloves shifted, Kale noticed the black spirals underneath. The man didn’t turn to meet Kale’s gaze, but at least he wasn’t making googly eyes at Vera anymore either.

  “There was no way to know someone was going to raid that nest,” Gage insisted.

  “Unless you planned the raid,” countered Kale.

  “I had nothing to do with the raid,” Gage said, his voice rising in anger.

  Kale raised a dubious brow at the man’s gloved hands.

  “I believe him,” piped Vera.

  “Of course you do,” replied Kale. “But he’s either been neglecting his responsibilities, giving the raiders an opportunity to plan and carry out their task, or he was involved in the raid himself.” Kale turned back to Gage. “So, which was it?”

  “I have not been neglecting my responsibilities,” Gage said, but his shoulders slumped slightly. “That night I missed my rounds. I’d been up with a sick brooding hen the night before and most of the day. When I woke late, I hurried to inspect the nests and found the raided coop.”

  “Why were you awake with a sick hen? Where was the flock healer?” asked Kale.

  “I am Flock Healer. In addition to being Hatchery Master.”

  “I thought the healer was a witch’s position,” said Kale.

  “It is. Our last healer died a few years ago. There was no one to replace her. I learned how to treat the flock without magic. It takes a lot more time that way, though. Sometimes I don’t get much sleep.”

  “Based on the number of healthy birds I’ve seen, you must be skilled. I’m surprised you are willing to do both.”

  “I’m the best option the flock has,” Gage said.

  “You care so much for some chickens?” Kale asked curiously.

  “Yes. I would never be able to harm one of my chicks. I knew exactly when each was laid and when they would hatch. I’ve not missed a hatching since I was twelve. This chick was due to hatch the day someone ripped him from his egg. Milk teeth become potent several hours before a chick hatches. Whoever did this knew that. To take a chick from their egg before their time, it’s abhorrent.” Gage took a steadying breath and said quietly, “Even if this chick survives, he’ll never be strong. Most likely, he’ll be bullied and ostracised by the flock. I’m not so sure we’re doing him a favor by keeping him alive.”

  “Say any of that to Vera, and I’ll rip out your tongue. Got it?”

  Gage nodded quickly, looking at the oblivious Vera.

  “Is there someone who might have had access to your intimate knowledge of the eggs?” asked Kale a little louder. “A wife? Girlfriend? A friend who’s been keeping your bed warm lately?” />
  Vera pretended to be busy tending her chick, but Kale could practically see her ears standing at attention.

  “There’s no one. I’ve been too busy for relationships.” The man blushed again. “Maybe soon I’ll find someone who will make me want to look up from my work.”

  Oh, for fiends’ sake.

  “I wasn’t asking for your hopes and dreams,” said Kale. “Just seeing who might have gotten you talking.”

  “Even if someone had been watching me, there’s no way they could’ve known the hen would get sick, or that I’d sleep through my rounds that night.”

  “What was wrong with the hen?”

  “She managed to find some bracken. It grows wild in the hills. Sometimes a seed blows down and takes root. Unfortunately, no one saw it before the hen found it. She has three eggs that will hatch soon, I had to make sure she didn’t destroy them while she was ill.”

  “Do you keep records of whose turn it is to feed the hens?” asked Kale.

  “Sure. Mitch keeps stuff like that.”

  “Maybe you should consider the possibility that the hen getting sick wasn’t an accident,” said Kale. “I know you don’t like it, but if you want to make sure they won’t do something like this again, you need to check it out. Have Mitch track down who was on the feeding crew. If nothing else, maybe someone saw something.”

  “He’s swallowing,” cheered Vera. “Look!”

  By the stars. The bird tipped his head back to swallow a ladle of water. Vera tried to offer some corn gruel next, but the chick turned his head away and closed his eyes to rest.

  “You are incredible,” said Gage with wonder.

  Vera smiled but it wobbled when she looked at the chick. The bird hadn’t eaten.

  11

  Vera couldn’t sleep. The moon was too bright. Okay, maybe she’d been obsessing over how cute Gage was when he’d blushed earlier. And how she’d blushed back. Gah. Her face heated thinking about it. The look he’d flashed her when she’d gotten the chick to swallow some water. . .Vera’s stomach flipped. She kicked a foot out from beneath the blankets. It was too warm. A minute later, she pulled it back under. It was cold enough out there to freeze a boob off. Spring acted as drunk in this part of Summartir as it did back home. Or more likely, the Palace had been heated magically, so she just hadn’t noticed how chilly the nights still were. At the farm, cold seeped through the plank floors and walls unhindered. She hoped Eggbert was okay. That’s what she’d been calling the chick when no one could hear. It was a silly name, but she liked it. What if his heat lamp went out? She hadn’t thought to ask how that thing worked.

  Vera sat up and peeked over the foot of the bed where Kale slept in a patch of moonlight. He was on his back, one arm curved under his head. The thin wool blanket draped over his chest wasn’t long enough to cover his bare toes. For some reason, seeing him barefoot made him seem deceptively harmless.

  “Kale?” Vera whispered.

  He didn’t flinch. She felt bad for all the sleep he was not getting lately. Kale shivered, making Vera feel even worse. She’d offered him one of the comforters, but he’d said he’d be fine with the blanket he had. So full of his tough-guy self. Vera slid from the bed, dragging along the thickest comforter, still warm from her body heat. Stepping lightly, she edged around the bed and lowered the comforter over Kale, making sure to cover his feet too. Soon, he stopped shivering. Vera’s lips curved into a tender smile. She’d let him sleep while she ran down for a quick check on Eggbert.

  Vera tugged pants on under her nightshirt and pulled the coat from Gage over her shoulders with a stupid smile. Getting the feels for a man who lived in a witch realm was such a bad idea. Then again, if he turned out to be a douche, Vera would definitely never see him again. Shoes on, Vera tiptoed to the door. She used one mittened hand to muffle the slight click of the lock. One perk of this place, the locks were magically low-tech. Vera hadn’t been able to unlock the palace guestroom door no matter how hard she’d tried. Twisting the doorknob slowly, Vera cringed, anticipating a creak, but it was silent. Because the door didn’t open when she pulled. She pulled harder. Still nothing.

  “Going out?” asked Kale, his breath warm on Vera’s neck.

  Vera jumped and spun around to face him. She pressed her back against the door and looked up at his face right above hers. Kale’s arm was extended up to the top of the door where he’d held it closed to keep her from leaving. At least she wasn’t just an incompetent door-opener. Kale swiped his other hand across his face, rubbing away the remnants of sleep. Vera couldn’t see his face from the shadows, but the moonlight at his back highlighted the curves of his shoulders and arms. His sides narrowed above the waist of his pants, the only things he’d worn to sleep in. Vera realized with horror that it probably looked like she was checking him out. She wasn’t, though. She’d just been fascinated by how the moonlight framed him. How it highlighted the crisscrossing scars all over his skin. Crap, I’m doing it again. He’s really going to get the wrong idea now.

  “You have a lot of scars,” Vera said pathetically.

  “I know,” Kale replied. “What I don’t know is why you’re sneaking out in the middle of the night.”

  “I was just going to make sure Eggbert’s okay. It’s really cold.”

  Vera wasn’t feeling the cold anymore. Kale radiated heat. No wonder he hadn’t thought he’d need a thicker blanket.

  “Eggbert?”

  Double crap. I didn’t mean to say that either. “The chick.” Vera prepared for Kale to laugh.

  He tipped his head and studied her. He didn’t laugh. Pushing off the door, he turned to retrieve his shirt and boots. The cold flowed back around Vera. The moonlight outlined Kale’s tense jaw.

  “Next time wake me, okay?”

  No scolding or berating. Half-asleep Kale was unusually mellow and non-jerkish. Like this, he’d be incredibly easy to get along with. Vera’s throat was too dry to speak, but she nodded her head. Kale must have seen it in the darkness because he didn’t ask if she’d heard him.

  “Let’s go,” Kale said once he was fully clothed.

  Vera wanted to tell him he didn’t have to go if he didn’t want to. But there was no way he would let her go alone. Arguing would probably bring out his normal crank. Vera pressed her lips closed. Better to not screw up a good thing.

  Kale looked over the chick. Vera’s Eggbert was fine. The lamp over his stall was going strong. Kale hadn’t expected otherwise, but after whatever had been happening upstairs, with the girl’s eyes all over him, he’d needed out of that room.

  “He looks better, right?” Vera whispered.

  Eggbert woke. Vera’s voice was a siren call to him. The chick strained to get closer to Vera but was too weak to stand.

  “Hold on, buddy. Don’t hurt yourself.” Vera unlatched the gate and hurried inside.

  The chick was no threat to Vera, but Kale suspected he’d lose something if he got too close. The cord that tied Kale to the Meadow threaded up his spine, so his back and head were indestructible but his fingers not so much. A few dismembered digits wouldn’t kill Kale, but once something was cut off, it didn’t grow back. He had to reattach it. Vera would not appreciate how he went about getting a finger back from the chick’s gut should the thing swallow one. Eggbert pressed against Vera, jostling her with his uncoordinated movements. Vera overbalanced and fell on her butt, giggling. Eggbert did look better, but he still looked like he could be dead in a day or two. Stars help me, I want the thing to stay alive so Vera keeps smiling like that. First Mimi, now Vera. These women are killing me.

  “It seems he missed you,” said Kale. “I’ll refill his water and see if I can find something he’ll eat.”

  Kale carried the empty water bowl back through the doors separating the hatchery from the family’s common areas. There was a sink in the hatchery, but they stored unfertilized eggs for eating in the kitchen pantry. He weaved through the rows of dining tables and stepped over some forgotten playing card
s near the kitchen entrance. The Monroes would not approve of feeding the chick an egg, but it was precisely what Eggbert needed. It’d give the chick a super-dose of nutrition. And Eggbert would love it. Hopefully. Kale would deal with the repercussions later if they came up.

  After pumping a bowl of fresh water, Kale found six eggs in the pantry. Half that many would be more than enough to feed everyone at breakfast. Kale collected a ladle and a large mixing bowl. He smacked the top of one egg with the ladle. The shell splintered. Kale hit it a couple more times until he’d made a hole big enough for the ladle to fit. Egg-white dripped over the side of the shell and onto the floor. Some crone was going to throw a fit in the morning when they discovered Kale’s messy handiwork. He would have to look for duck nests tomorrow. He wouldn’t dare try something like this again.

  Balancing both bowls, Kale headed back into the hatchery. He’d only been gone a few minutes. Vera crouched near Eggbert and startled when he walked in.

  “Kale,” Vera said, letting out a relieved breath.

  “What happened?” Kale turned in a circle, searching the shadows for what had her scared.

  “It’s nothing.” Vera blushed. “Someone walked by the window outside, it surprised me is all. Probably just someone making rounds. I’m a little jumpy now, but it’s fine.” Vera started to stand.

  “Stay down where no one can see you. Just in case.” Kale lowered himself, so he was hidden as well, and set the bowls inside the stall. “Keep your voice low too.”

  “I really don’t think there’s anything to worry about.” Vera pointed at the orange-streaked liquid that she could see now. “What’s that?”

  “A little egg for Eggbert,” Kale said, listening for any sounds of movement beyond their stall.

  “That’s disgusting.”

  “He won’t think so.”

  “Isn’t that cannibalism?” Vera asked.

  “There’s no baby chick in there. It’s just egg—what baby chicks eat before they hatch.” Kale glanced over his shoulder.

  “Oh, I hadn’t thought of it like that.” Satisfied, Vera reached over, snagged the bowl, and pulled it toward Eggbert. “How do I feed it to him?”