Page 55 of Heir

“From me?”

“From someone who would try to hurt you? Maybe she made contingencies. There are spells mages can cast that are activated when they die, in order to protect things that they’ve been entrusted to keep safe.”

“So then, maybe I didn’t trigger the spell. Maybe one of you did. Zandren, you, and Kase were moving Delia’s body. Maxar what were you doing?”

“I was outside looking for clues around the house. All I found were more footprints in the mud around back. I still think Zandren should go sniff around there to see what he can smell.”

“Drak?” I asked, facing him. “What were you doing?”

“I was on the phone with the King. On the porch.”

I frowned. “Well, neither of you were hit with the spell, nor did anything weird. So it had to be me. But all I did was pick the lemon balm and smell it. I also touched the cutting board and her tea towel.”

I shook my head. This didn’t make any sense.

What was she trying to protect?

I turned to Maxar. “What other kinds of mages are there? Is there a mage that can come here and figure out all the spells that are still active or idle in the house? If Delia is protecting something, I want to know.”

Maxar nodded slowly. “Another spellcaster, most likely.” He pulled out his phone. “I’ll call Kase and see if he knows anybody in town that could come by.”

“I also want to go to that Fiddleman’s Apothecary. It’s probably a mage that runs that, right? Maybe even a spellcaster mage?”

Slowly, Maxar and Drak both nodded.

Why were they looking at me like that?

Maxar was about to put his phone to his ear, but I stopped him. “I want to know all the different kinds of mages. All of them.”

His brows narrowed, but he nodded, put the phone to his ear and stepped out into the hallway.

“What is your plan?” Zandren asked.

“I don’t quite know yet,” I said. “But I can feel something working itself out. Delia is hiding and protecting something.” Then my eyes flew open wide, and I faced Drak. “Where exactly was Delia’s body when I tossed that cup to the floor and it shattered?”

“They were loading her into Kase’s vehicle. Why?”

“Because now I’m wondering if her body leaving her house was what triggered the spell. And none of you were in the house when that happened. Then when I threw the cup on the ground, Maxar was back on the porch, right?”

Drak nodded. “And we came right in to you.”

“So had you been in here, maybe you’d have been hit with the spell too. So it wasn’t that I did something specifically, it was that her dead body was removed from the house. A shield spell of some kind came down over the house and whoever was in it was supposed to suffocate.” My mind whirred with ideas, and my heart galloped as each one of those ideas started to make sense and fall into place.

I didn’t want to get my hopes up too much, because we hadn’t even scratched the surface of what Delia was hiding or why. But, at least I was pretty certain that the spell trigger wasn’t me picking at a piece of lemon balm.

Maxar returned. “Kase said that Monjol Fiddleman is a spellcaster.”

Hope filled my chest. “Then we need to go see him. Right now.” I headed to the front door. “Drak, you stay here until we get back.”

“No,” he said, with just the slightest hint of desperation in his tone that it made me pause. No, I had to be making that up. He wasn’t desperate. He was cooler than a frozen cucumber. “I’m coming with you.”

“Why? We don’t need all four of us there. And Maxar speaks mage, and Zandren looks like he needs another meal.”

“I do,” Zandren nodded. “I’m hungry.”

“You do know most mages speak English, right?” Maxar said, probably to me, but I wasn’t really paying attention.

“See?” I addressed Drak. “You stay here. Guard the place. Bark if anybody tries to steal the newspaper.”

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