Page 40 of Magpie
“You’re—” I begin to say, but she cuts me off.
“Tell Ronan his mother misses him.”
“Shit!” I shout, yanking my hand out of the silver at the first blinding sear of pain. I fling the bone aside, hearing it clink and skitter across the floor as I cradle my injured hand to my chest. My arm shaking, I look down, expecting to see the melted ruin of my hand, but I stop when I see nothing but unmarred flesh.I glare up at Ronan, hissing, “What thefuckwas that, and why didn’t you give me any warning?”
“He’s an ass like that,” Lyric says, startling me. I had forgotten she was here.
Ronan doesn’t pay me any mind as he follows the path of the bone where I flung it after feeling that momentary pain from the boiling silver.
“Your mother says hi,” I spit, hoping my words affect him, hoping they pierce him right in the heart. I’m bewildered, and my nerves are already frayed ropes, and I’m inno moodto play any more games with mages.
“That wasn’t my mother,” he grumbles, leaning over and retrieving something from the ground. His back is to me as he observes the item. “Only a friend of hers.”
Ronan turns and walks toward me, reaching out to take my wrist and yank it forward. He places something icy cold in my hand.
“I didn’t tell you because I honestly didn’t know if it would work or not. I didn’t want to get your hopes up in case she rejected you. Apparently, she found you worthy.”
I look curiously down at the black iron key in my hand, the shape of a moth on the end. I can almost imagine the creature is glowing.
I look at Ronan. “What did she find me worthy of?”
“Life, Maggie,” he says. “She gave you the key to life.”
Iwatch him from my perch at the windowsill. I’m up in the attic, looking down on the porch. A white picket fence lines the well-manicured lawn, picture-perfect. I can’t tell what the House looks like, what type of structure the line of people on the sidewalk see when they queue up to enter. Alister will be busy all night with the performance—the second type of ritual he told me about, the one that involves feeding off the fear of the masses that follow this place like it’s a cult leader. I’m not allowed to participate in this one. He said my aura would chase away the souls he needs to lure inside.
I don’t entirely understand the concept of this spell, this ritual based on fear and pain. But I don’t think too hard on it, knowing that it at least gives me a small reprieve from the lessons he has been giving me.
Tears spring to my eyes, sorrow and anguish clouding my mind and clogging my throat. With a great effort, I shove it all down. I’m always overwhelmed with grief and pangs of loss when I think about my lessons, and the murky void they leave in my mind.
I focus instead on the man with the skeletal face guarding the door, flashing his wide smile at the crowd, making them shiver and avoid eye contact. I smile, not scared in the slightest at the sight of the wicked creature Sean becomes during this period when the veil between realms thins. Alister says that this month calls to our baser sides, the malevolent force inside all of us. It brings out our true nature. I can’t help but notice thatIdo not change. I don’t morph into some creature of the night.
Maybe it’s because I have always been dark.
I tap on the glass, something to disturb the quiet of the attic. As though he can sense me, Sean turns and looks up at the window I’m pressed against. He flashes me a grin before going back to tormenting the waiting crowd. I watch as he lets a trio of girls into the House. They squeal and jump when he lunges at them, before dissolving into a fit of nervous giggles. I don’t hear any of it. None of it reaches me here. Not a single bit of nervous laughter, not a scared shout; not any of the many screams I know are echoing the vast cavernous halls of this place. The attic is silent as the grave.
Yet it is impossible to ignore the magnitude of energy that swells inside the House. I feel it like the currents of the ocean, swaying with each new soul that enters. I nearly rock back at the ebb and flow of energy and power. Alister will be drunk on it already. Another reason he leaves me mostly alone during the month leading up to Samhain—he is often too lost in his own haze to worry about giving me more lessons.
Slowly but surely, the crowd dwindles as I keep up my silent vigil on the windowsill. Sometimes Sean lets entire groups enter the House together; other times he makes people go in one at a time. There is no rhyme or reason to his selection, but I am sure it is all orchestrated by Alister.
The night is truly dark by the time the last patron enters, a scared but giddy smile plastered across their face. Somethingtugs at the back of my mind, as it always does whenever I watch these crowds. It all feels so familiar, a memory just outside of my grasp. I shake the feeling away, focusing again as Sean comes into view.
Sean became my first real friend inside the House. I thought it would be awkward, especially after the way we met, but there is something so easy about being around him. Something that feelsright. I fell easily into the habit of joining him for the ritual, although more often than not we simply sleep, curled up together. Some nights we stay up well into the early hours of the morning, talking. Since that first night, that first ritual, Alister has not sought me out to watch. Maybe he doesn’t find pleasure in the small act of being held, being listened to, but I do.
There is painfully little I can tell Sean about myself that he doesn’t already know, though. My time in the House has been considerably shorter than his. He told me he was the first creation Alister and Irina made. When I asked him about Irina, he placed a single finger on my lips, silencing me, begging me to never speak of her in front of Alister. I want to question him about it, question Alister about the name scrawled on the back of that card on his hat, but I trust Sean. I trust him far more than I should for how little I know him. If I’m being honest with myself, I trust him more than I do Alister.
Beyond just keeping me company through the long nights of the ritual and chasing away anyone who tries to drag me into a blue-lit stone room, Sean has been there for me in other ways. He is the one I go to when the cloud of grief from my lessons envelops me, when I can’t find my way out of it. After my first lesson, when I was left aching and raw, Sean was the one to comfort me.
I wanted Alister to spend the evening with me, to warm me in his embrace and chase away the flashes of the nightmarish vision that plagued me. Instead, he dropped my hand themoment we entered the House and retired to his study for the evening. When Alister is in his study, he does not want to be disturbed. He left me hollow and alone, a ghost to wander the halls aimlessly as I tried to put the fading memory of the lesson behind me. Sean was the one to pull me from those visions, the one to bring me back to myself. He protects me in all those ways, from the unwanted touches of others to the void of my own mind.
Sean walks down the stairs to the front door of this picturesque suburban home before turning to me. He looks up, smiling and waving. Beaming, I give him a timid wave in return. He motions for me to come down, and I falter. Alister specifically told me to stay in this room until the performance was over. He said he would retrieve me when it was safe. Surely things are heading to a close, with the last of the patrons inside. Alister will probably forget to come to me, like he does most nights of the performance.
Biting my lip, I watch as Sean inclines his head, motioning again for me to join him. Swallowing my nerves, I nod and push myself away from the window.
I creep down the attic stairs, padding my way silently to a hidden staircase. After years inside the House, I’ve come to learn the easiest way to navigate the twisting hallways and winding staircases is to simply think of my destination, to imagine where I want to go. I feel blood rushing to my face when I remember how many times the House has deposited me outside of Sean’s room. I seem to be unable to keep him off my mind.
The House is eerily quiet as I sneak through it. I expected to hear shouts of surprise and screams of terror. I expected to have to hide from groups of patrons, or any number of creations performing in the ritual. I wonder if the House is hiding me from them, or if it’s Alister. I push those thoughts from my mind as I step into the foyer leading to the open front door. Worryingmy bottom lip, I pad silently across the floorboards until I am standing on the threshold. Leaning against the doorway, I watch Sean.
He’s standing against the railing of the stairs leading to the front door. He has a hand held out in front of him, a single finger pointed at a rock on the ground. As he curls the finger in a quick motion, the rock flies toward him. He snatches it easily out of the air, tossing it down in front of him and repeating the whole process.
