Magic & Memory (28 page)

          “Couldn’t you just have waved your hand for the map as well, instead of making us draw it?” Joey wanted to know.

          “Of course I could have. That was just to keep you occupied while I found and printed my document. Besides, it’s good for you to practice your geography.” Bryn smiled cheerfully as he added, “And by the way, you totally botched Central America.” He almost imperceptibly flicked a finger, and several lines on the map rearranged themselves. Then he got serious and gave instructions. “Ok, let’s do this. Luna my dear, go and sit at the south point of the compass, if you please. Joey, you take the north, and I’ll take the west. Gus, you know where you can go.”

Augustine frowned at the nickname and the veiled insult, but started to do as he was told. He hesitated and put his hand out, but the invisible barrier was no longer there. So he went and took his place at the east ordinal as the warlock grinned and told him, “It’d be a bit juvenile to let you walk into a wall. Not that I didn’t consider it.”

Bryn took his spot, sitting on the floor at the west ordinal, and smiled brightly. “It’s been ages since I worked one of these. It’s going to be fun. Oh, and just so you know, I reinforced all the wards on the warehouse, so no one can burst in and interrupt us while we’re in the middle of this.”

“No one but me.” They all turned in the direction of a heavily French-accented voice. A handsome young man of about twenty with skin the color of espresso and wide brown eyes was grinning at them. He was dressed in a tuxedo and had a Louis Vuitton garment bag draped over his arm, which he now hung on the same hook the coveralls had been on. “Sorry to interrupt! I was absolutely sure Bryn would be wrecking his tuxedo in tonight’s endeavor, so I brought him a spare. But I see you are taking care of it,
amour
.” He walked over to Bryn and kissed the top of his head.

“This,” said Bryn, beaming at the young man, “Is my boyfriend Philippe. Who, I suspect, is here for more than just wardrobe assistance. Come to watch me work, love?”

“Do you mind?” Philippe’s dark eyes sparkled with excitement. “I won’t get in the way, I promise.”

“Sure, sweetheart. Pull up a chair and make yourself comfortable,” Bryn told him. “This is going to take a little while.”

“Not
too long
though, yes? You promised you’d go to the gala and let them give you that award,” Philippe said as he rolled the office chair around to the far side of the map, positioning himself so he was facing Bryn.

“Not too long, love, I promise. Ok, quick introductions and then we get started. Everyone, this is my Philippe. Philippe, you know Joey Adams, and that’s Alastair’s girlfriend, Luna Harper.” Lu felt a slight blush creep into her cheeks at that description as she smiled and waved in greeting. “Oh, and
that
,” Bryn flicked his hand dismissively toward Augustine, “That’s Augustine von Savinin.”

“You’re kidding,” said Philippe, staring at the platinum blonde vampire. “
The
Augustine? And you’re helping him find Alastair? Why?”

“I’m not helping
him
find Alastair, he’s helping
me
find him,” Bryn said lightly.

Philippe sat back and crossed his legs as he told Bryn, “Ok,
amour
. I’m sure you know what you are doing.” He still eyed Augustine suspiciously.

“Alright, let’s get started,” said the warlock. Before him all of a sudden were the printout and four identical bronze knives, each with elaborately scrolled handles. Now three of the knives slid across the floor, so that one was positioned in front of each of the people seated around the compass.

Bryn consulted the sheet of paper and started reading quietly. The language was unlike anything Lu had ever heard before. It was so utterly foreign that it took her a while to realize he was reading the same paragraph over and over again.

For a while it appeared nothing was happening. But then Lu saw that a faint circle of light had formed, connecting the four people seated on the floor. As Bryn continued in the same low monotone, the circle steadily increased in brightness. Bryn closed his eyes and began reciting the spell from memory. The circle got brighter still.

A few minutes later the chalk lines that formed the map lit up. Bryn’s voice sounded a little thinner, and a faint mist of perspiration appeared on his upper lip and forehead.

Everyone watched Bryn closely. Each passing minute seemed to diminish him in some small way, the warlock’s voice growing weaker, more perspiration dampening his features, his shoulders slumping slightly. Philippe’s face creased with concern, his eyes never leaving his boyfriend.

The chant abruptly changed to something else, other words in that same odd language, and light shot upward from the lines of the compass rose, outlining it in brilliant white. Lu and Joey squinted and held up their hands to shield their eyes.

“Do what I do,” Bryn said then, and picked up the little bronze knife before him. The others followed suit. He quickly ran the blade over his left palm and held the cut over the tip of the compass before him. Lu forced herself to do the same, making the cut quickly before she could think about it. Augustine and Joey did this too, a few drops of blood from each of them dripping onto the compass.

Bryn started chanting again in that same utterly foreign language. This time Alastair’s name was included in what he was saying. He squeezed his left hand into a tight fist, and more blood spilled onto the ground. The other three around the compass followed suit. The warlock wavered slightly and Philippe jumped to his feet, but didn’t take a step forward.

Bryn’s breathing was becoming a bit labored as he continued to repeat the incantation. Lu wondered if the spell was going as it should. Suddenly the four little puddles of blood lit up, glowing bright red, and they began to flow to the middle of the compass. It took a minute for them to reach the center, and when all four of them met, a powerful gust of wind appeared out of nowhere, then began to circle around them like a tornado, increasing in speed, grabbing all the papers in the room and whisking them along as the wind gained momentum, howling past them, right at their backs. They were safe in the calm eye of the storm and Philippe was untouched beyond it, their hair barely stirring as the wind raged around them. Suddenly, right in the center of the whirlwind, at the heart of the compass, a blinding white column of light shot up to the ceiling.

Bryn cried out in pain, bracing himself with both hands on the floor before him. His voice rose, the dead language ringing out over the storm that raged in the room. He squeezed his eyes shut as his olive complexion went pale and his nose started to bleed, dark red drops of blood soaking into the blue coveralls. Philippe pressed a fist to his mouth but didn’t try to cross into the tornado.

The warlock went on and on, struggling to keep the chant going as his body began to tremble and tears spilled from beneath his dark lashes. Lu watched in absolute amazement as a thin rivulet of blood shot out from the center of the compass rose. It stopped at southern California on the map they had drawn.

Then the column of light radiating up from the center of the compass flickered. Slowly a picture was coming into focus within that column, as if the lens of a camera were being turned. Suddenly the focus became crystal clear, and a three-dimensional image of a grand white mansion appeared before them.

Augustine drew in his breath. Then he yelled over the noise of the whirlwind, “You can stop now Bryn, we don’t need the address. I know exactly where that is.”

Bryn took a deep breath and opened his eyes, and instantly the wind and the light and the image were gone, all the papers that had been caught in the tornado gently drifting to the ground around them. Philippe ran to the warlock’s side, catching him in his arms as he wavered.

“So where is it?” Joey asked, jumping to his feet.

Augustine looked stunned as he replied, “It’s my home in L.A.”

A low growl rumbled in Joey’s chest, and he yelled, “I knew it! You had him all along! What game are you playing, Augustine?”

But Augustine looked dumbfounded, staring at the spot where the image had been. He pushed his pale hair back with both interlaced hands. “It’s not me!” he cried. Then he shook his head in disbelief as he mumbled, “Why would they bring him there, of all places?”

“Is Alastair ok, Bryn? Is he alive?” Lu asked.

“He’s alive, but barely,” the warlock replied.

Lu hurried over to the desk for a water bottle and brought it to Bryn. Philippe was cradling him and gently brushing Bryn’s damp hair back from his face as he murmured soothingly, “You did great,
amour
. Absolutely magnificent.”

“How long did that take?” Bryn asked.

Philippe glanced at his watch and told him, “Just under ninety minutes.” Bryn looked immensely satisfied.

Lu knelt beside the couple and opened the bottle, then handed it to Bryn, who drank deeply and winked at her. “Thanks, love.”

“Are you alright?” she asked him.

“I’m fine,” Bryn told her, sitting up and unfastening the top button on his shirt. His voice was thin and he was still quite pale, his eyelids heavy. “This used to be easier when I was younger, I’ll tell you that. But I can still work a major spell in record time,” he said with a grin. Then he used the sleeve of the coveralls to wipe the blood from his upper lip.

“You’re incredible, darling,” Philippe told him. “You never ever cease to amaze me.” His handsome face was still creased with concern, but he was smiling proudly.

“Help me up,” Bryn said, “We need to get to L.A.”

“Not
we
,” Philippe said as both he and Lu helped Bryn to his feet. “Remember? You promised me you’d only do the spell, nothing more, because you and I both knew how much that would take from you. And it took even more than we anticipated, didn’t it? So forget the gala too, we’ll just call and tell them something came up. You need to go home and rest. Yet another award is far less important than your health.”

“But Joey and Lu need my help, who knows what they’ll be facing in L.A.?” Bryn was saying, weaving slightly as he unzipped the coveralls and stepped out of them. Lu held his arm firmly to keep him from falling over.

“If you’re determined to help, you can do so from here,” Philippe told him.

As the couple was having this discussion, Joey came up beside Lu. Without a word, he gently raised her left hand to his mouth and ran his tongue over the gash on her palm, healing the wound. He lightly kissed her palm before letting go of her hand and she turned to look at him questioningly, but his composed expression was perfectly neutral.

 Bryn was saying, “You’re right of course, love. I won’t be of use to anyone if I pass out.” Then he asked, “Is the car out front?” His boyfriend nodded and Bryn said, “We’ll take them to the airport, then I promise to go home and rest.” He leaned heavily on Philippe as they headed to the car.

Everyone piled into the back of a black limousine that had been parked in front of the warehouse. Philippe told the driver to take them to the Executive Air terminal at SFO, and he gently propped Bryn up as the car pulled away from the curb.

Philippe located his cell phone and dialed a number in his directory before handing the ringing phone to Bryn. When a crisp voice answered, Bryn recited his name and a long account number, then gave instructions to the person at the other end of the line. He was assured a private plane would be ready and waiting.

Bryn closed his eyes. And when he opened them, for just a moment it seemed as if they registered every one of his three hundred and thirty years. Philippe handed him a bottle of water from the built-in mini bar, and Bryn grinned at him and said, “I could go for something a bit stronger, love.”

“You don’t need alcohol right now, you need to hydrate,” Philippe told him, his voice firm but kind.

Bryn accepted the water and took a long drink. Then he turned his attention to Lu and Joey and told them, “A charter jet is being prepared, it’ll be ready by the time we get to the airport. When you land at LAX, a car and driver will be waiting for you. Check the trunk, it’ll be stocked with a few helpful items. I’m sorry to say I need to stay behind, I won’t be of any use to you if I deplete myself further.”

“Ok. Thanks Bryn,” said Joey.

 “Do you happen to have Alastair’s cell phone on you? The one I gave him?” Bryn asked.

“Yeah.” Joey pulled the red phone out of his pocket and looked at the little screen. “I’m surprised it doesn’t need a charge.” The battery indicator was completely full.

“It doesn’t run on electricity,” Bryn told him. “Listen, when you arrive at Augustine’s house, call me and leave me on speaker. I’ll be able to send some help your way from here if I know what’s going on, a little protection at least.”

“We’re so grateful for all you’ve done for us,” Joey told him.

Augustine was sitting back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest. At some point the look of shock on his face had been replaced with one of grim determination. Now he said to the warlock, “Can you get a read on who’s in my house?”

“I tried, but the wards are so powerful around the building they’re like a thick fog. There’s no way for me to look inside, beyond being able to tell that Alastair is there and that he’s alive. Whoever this is, they want you to come in blind.”

“So how are we going to get in, if it’s all warded?” Lu asked.