The Demon's Covenant

Nick made a low snarl of protest that Mae guessed did not indicate deep concern about Jamie’s emotional state.

“She said—”

“Don’t listen to her,” said Alan. “Listen to me. Stop. Now.”

The thunder made a low complaining sound and died away. Alan stepped back and slid the knife into his pocket, then reached out and offered Gerald a hand up. Gerald took it.

Nick went over to the wall and leaned his forehead against the gray bricks, teeth set. The clouds were slipping away slowly; the dark fingers of the storm curled around the sky as if they did not want to let go.

Mae felt much the same, but she released her hold on Jamie. He stumbled a few paces toward Gerald.

“I’m sorry,” he began. “I didn’t know—Alan said he only wanted to talk.”

“And I do,” Alan agreed calmly. “I apologize for Nick’s behavior.”

“I apologize for Laura’s,” Gerald told him, voice just as smooth and friendly. They stood clasping hands for another moment. They both had blue eyes, Mae noticed: Alan’s dark and Gerald’s light and bright. Alan’s crinkled behind his glasses as he smiled, and Gerald smiled back. “I have no intention of harming anyone,” he assured Alan. “All I want is a word in private.”

“I’ll give you a word in public,” Alan said, still smiling. “No.”

Gerald blinked. Alan dropped his hand and stepped back.

The storm was clearing fast out of the sky now, clouds spiraling as if they were going down some unseen drain. Nick was leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest.

“I wanted to talk,” Alan went on. “This is what I have to say: Leave Jamie alone. Get out of Exeter. Or I’ll turn your Circle over to Celeste Drake.”

Gerald kept smiling, betraying no more than he had by that first blink, but Laura went a little pale.

“I’m not scared of Celeste.”

“No?” Alan asked. “You should be. You’re the leader of the Obsidian Circle now, aren’t you? I’m sorry, I hadn’t thought. Should we be using a title for you now? As a mark of respect?”

“Yes, I’m the leader,” said Gerald. “And no. I thought—” He flashed a rueful smile at Jamie, and Mae was outraged to see Jamie smile hesitantly back. “Well, I didn’t think Black Gerald sounded exactly fearsome.”

“New leader,” Alan observed. “You’re very young. You lost about half your Circle when you lost your leader. You’ve been losing more since then, your best people leaving for more stable Circles. You’re desperately trying to recruit new magicians. And the Aventurine Circle is out for your blood. What do you have going for you, Gerald?”

“You have no idea,” the strange magician said hotly, “what he can do. He—”

“Ben, be quiet!” Gerald snapped.

The stranger—Ben—looked embarrassed and bowed his head, flushing faintly pink. Mae looked at him and remembered what the messenger had said about Gerald’s new mark.

“I think my best people have stayed with me,” said Gerald, and there was a firmness about his tone that made Mae understand for a moment why people might be loyal to him: There was a substance to him that she hadn’t seen in Black Arthur, terrifyingly and deliberately impressive though he’d been. “And I could mention that you don’t have anyone left on your side but a demon that could turn against you at any moment, Alan—but I’m sure you’ve been thinking about that yourself.”

“I’m on his side,” Mae snapped.

“A demon that could turn against you at any moment, and a human girl who can’t do magic or fight,” Gerald corrected himself. “Not an impressive list of allies, but that doesn’t matter. I don’t mean you any harm, Alan. Nor do any of my Circle. You don’t need to be worried.”

“Oh, I’m not,” Alan said blandly.

“I do not intend to leave Jamie here among people who do not understand him and will turn on him in a moment when his secret slips out. Which it will, someday. Someday very soon. He’s strong. Do you think his parents will react well once they know what he is? He belongs with his own kind!”

“I don’t think Jamie asked for your help,” Alan pointed out.

“Did he ask for yours?” Gerald countered. “He is a magician. His welfare is my concern. It is none of your business, and I will certainly not leave one of my own completely at the mercy of a demon!”

“That’s sweet,” said Nick. “The fact that you’ve put a spell on Jamie makes it not terribly convincing, but apart from that small detail, I found it a really touching speech.”

Gerald’s eyes went to Jamie.

“Hey,” he said. “You know I wouldn’t hurt you, don’t you?”

Jamie looked down. “I don’t know.”

That was when Laura threw a spell at Jamie, sudden as lightning springing between them, magic rising like a pet bird from her palm. It streaked through the air, swift and bright. Mae ran forward and knew the brilliant deadly thing would strike before she could get to him.

The magic bounced off Jamie and earthed itself harmlessly in the ground at his feet.

Jamie jumped back all the same, and Mae found him catching her hands, grip desperate for a moment until he remembered himself. Then he stepped away.

“Thanks, Laura,” he said unsteadily. “I always wondered what a tiny heart attack would feel like, and now I know. Very refreshing!”

He was still shaking a little. Mae’s hand itched to grab him again, to hold him and keep him safe, but he’d already turned away from her.

Nick left his place leaning against the wall and stalked forward. He didn’t attack anyone, but he put himself in front of Jamie, blocking him from the magicians’ line of sight.

“What was that for?” he asked, very soft.

Alan answered him, his arms folded and his gaze on Gerald.

“It was a demonstration,” he observed. “The spell on Jamie is a protection spell. It means no magical attack can touch him.”

Nick turned and looked at Jamie, face unreadable.

“It’s strong,” he tossed over his shoulder at Gerald. “Where did you get power like that?”

Jamie was staring at Gerald, looking helpless and lost. Gerald gazed steadily back at him. His face was open and almost sweet. He looked like someone you could trust.

Nick’s motives for helping Jamie had been seriously called into question. Jamie thought Mae had betrayed him. And then on this day of all days, someone had come through for him, and it had to be a magician.

“You don’t need to know that,” Gerald answered. “All you need to know is that I have enough power to take care of my own. And I will. Always.” He nodded at Jamie. “Next time I’ll come alone. I hope you will too.”

Jamie nodded once. It was a nervous movement, and might even have been involuntary. He might not have meant it.

He might have, though.

“Ben, Laura,” said Gerald, and they turned with him as he moved to go. He passed Nick by without a glance, as if he couldn’t see him at all.

Then he stopped, his magicians flanking him, at the mouth of the alley.

“When you’re ready to talk to me, Alan,” he called out, “let me know. I can help you.”

5

Getting the Wrong Answers

That’s settled, then,” Alan said once the magicians were gone. “We turn them in to Celeste Drake tomorrow.”

“What will she do to them?” Jamie asked in a small voice.

Alan did not answer him directly, which was answer enough. “I gave him a chance to leave.”

“No, you threatened him!”

“What do you want, then?” Nick demanded abruptly. “You want to be a magician? You want them to stick around in Exeter, maybe end up killing someone you know? Hey, how about your sister?”

Jamie glared at Nick. “Of course not. I just wish that there was some way besides murder or threats, or—I wish there was some kind of box I could check marked ‘none of the above,’ that’s all! You saw what happened when Laura cast that spell. You know Gerald’s trying to protect me.”

“And now he has a hold over you,” Alan said. “You’re grateful to him. You don’t think he wasn’t counting on that?”

Jamie hesitated. “It was a lot of trouble to go to, just so I’d be grateful.”

“Yes,” Alan agreed simply. “A lot of trouble. He must have killed several people to get that kind of power. And he could break it any time.”

“I could break it now,” Nick offered. Jamie turned and stared at him, and the corner of Nick’s mouth turned up slightly. “But I won’t.”

Jamie smiled back, a little hesitantly.

Nick crossed the distance between him and Jamie before Mae could move, and pulled a knife on him.

“Why bother?” he asked Jamie lazily. He touched the skin of Jamie’s throat lightly with the blade. “The spell will only protect you from magic. Gerald’s not protecting you, he’s protecting his recruit. Any other Circle tries to recruit you by magic, they won’t be able to. Anyone needs to kill you …” He tossed the knife up into the air and caught it, playful and casual as a man flipping a coin. “It would be so easy.”

Mae grabbed Nick’s arm and he whirled on her, then caught himself and stood looking down at her with his pulse thudding against her palm and the knife still in his hand.

She lifted her chin. “Oh, put that away.”

Nick put it away. “Just making a point.”

“Yes, I took your point,” Jamie muttered. “Right up against my throat.”

Mae looked away from Nick and walked quickly toward the wall, scrambling over it and trying so hard to make the climb look easy that she skinned her elbow as she did so. She pretended it didn’t sting.

Nick did not try to help Alan over the wall this time around. He stood with his hands clenched into fists in his pockets as they all waited for Alan to get over on his own.

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he told Jamie suddenly.

Mae reached out and touched Nick’s shoulder. Her hand brushed muscle, braced and tense under her palm, for a moment. Then he shied away from her and glared.

She smiled as if this reaction was perfectly normal. “Sometimes when you pull knives on people, they get this impression that you’re going to hurt them, and then they’re completely terrified. Crazy, I know!”

“Okay,” said Nick. He turned to Jamie and popped his left wrist sheath again. “Look.”

Jamie backed up. “Which part of ‘completely terrified’ did you translate as ‘show us your knives, Nick’? Don’t show me your knives, Nick. I have no interest in your knives.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “This is a quillon dagger. That’s a knife with a sword handle. I like it because it has a good grip for stabbing.”

“Why do you say these things?” Jamie inquired piteously. “Is it to make me sad?”

“I didn’t have you cornered,” Nick went on. “You could’ve run. And this dagger doesn’t have an even weight distribution; it’s absolute rubbish for throwing. If I had any intention of hurting you, I’d have used a knife I could throw.”

Jamie blinked. “I will remember those words always. I may try to forget them, but I sense that I won’t be able to.”

“Good,” said Nick. “Like I said, that spell won’t protect you, and you have a habit of getting into trouble. You need to know things.”

There was a long pause, during which Nick eyed Jamie in what seemed to be a critical manner. Jamie eyed Nick in what seemed to be mortal fear.