This norlock child of Uncle Jackswhat happened to him? Hexe asked.
After Lord Jynx died, my father took pity on the boy and made him his gardener.
You mean Jake was?
Your first cousin, once removed, Syra said with a sad nod of her head. But you must remember that was another time. Things are different now. She reached out to touch her sons arm, only to have the ivory bracelet wrapped about her wrist abruptly rise up, revealing itself to be a tiny albino serpent. The familiar hissed loudly and flared its hood, which popped open like the miniature parasol in a Mai Tai. Trinket! Lady Syra scolded, delivering a light tap to the top of its milk-white head with the tip of her finger. By the Outer Dark! What has come over you?
The micro-cobra flinched at the reprimand, but did not resume its previous, passive stance, and continued to keep its ruby-red eyes focused on Hexe.
Perhaps this is what has her upset, he said, holding up the glittering glove that now covered his right hand.
By the sunken spires! Lady Syra exclaimed in surprise. What is that thing?
The Gauntlet of Nydd.
Well, no wonder Trinket became alarmed! His mother frowned. Shes very sensitive to charmed objects. But I thought the Gauntlet of Nydd was lost during the Dragon War. Where on earth did you find itand how could you possibly afford it once you did?
I know what youre thinking, Motherits not a forgery, Hexe assured her. I checked the enchantmentthe signature on the spell is General Vlads. And as to how I ended up in possession of itit was a gift from a tradeswoman seeking a royal warrant. Its really no different from that time Bulgari sent you that cocktail necklace. . . .
Yes, yes, thats all very well and good, Lady Syra said impatiently. But why are you wearing it?
I find it helps focus and enhance my Right Hand magic. I need all the help I can get if I want to bring in even more paying business. After all, Im going to be a father soon.
Although it was obvious that Lady Syra did not completely believe what her son had just told her, she did not push the issue. In any case, you should be careful. The Gauntlet of Nydd was neither truly Left or Right Hand magic. Since it is ambidextrous it can easily go either way, depending on the user.
Well, I dont think you have to worry about me using a right-handed glove to work Left Hand magic, Hexe reassured her.
Im not the one whos concerned, Lady Syra replied, gesturing to Trinket, who was still weaving about atop her wrist. There, there, little one, she said soothingly, planting a kiss atop the familiars wedge-shaped head. No need to be upset. This seemed to placate the albino serpent, which once more resumed its role as living jewelry. Now go get dressed, dear, Lady Syra exclaimed gaily, turning to address me. Im taking you shopping!
* * *
During the course of my life, my mother has dragged me through every upscale department store in the city at least once. But where my mother entered Bergdorfs or Barneys like an arctic explorer intent on driving a flag into the North Pole, Lady Syra was far more laid back. The moment she set foot on the sales floor, the personal shoppers seemed to appear as if summoned by a spell, greeting her with eager smiles, without any sign of the nervous trepidation usually displayed by whatever sales staff was unlucky enough to wait on my mother.
However, while the floorwalkers and clerks were pleased to see Lady Syra, the same could not be said for our fellow shoppers, many of whom scowled in disapproval. But if Syra noticed them, she showed no sign of it as she moved through the stalking grounds of Manhattans elite with unflappable calm, as elegant and gracious as any crowned head of Europe stooping to visit a department store. No wonder Warhol had been so fascinated by her.
After spending an hour trying on clothes, I found myself staring at a daunting array of flowing tops and frilly, Empire-waisted dresses, any one of which cost more than my take-home pay for a month.
Syra, I cant let you pay for all of this! I exclaimed.
Tosh! Of course you can! She laughed as she handed the saleslady a platinum credit card. I cant allow the mother of my grandchild to go about dressed in nothing but a pair of overalls, can I? Besides, youve done a marvelous job of living lean and making ends meet. A lot of young ladies from your background would have chucked it all by now and returned home with their tails between their legs. You must love my son very, very much.
Yes, I do, I replied. Hes the only man Ive ever known who has looked at me and really seen me instead of what he expected to see, or wanted to be there. Its like I dont have to explain things to himhe just instinctively knows whats important to me. Do you understand what I mean?
Yes, I do. Thats how I felt about Hexes father, when I first fell in love with him. And I still feel the same way, all these years and hardships later.
I like Captain Horn a lot. He reminds me of Hexe, sometimes.
I suspect he inherited his sense of justice from his father, Lady Syra said, nodding her head in agreement. I just wish Hexe would be a little warmer toward him. I realize that it was difficult for him, growing up the way he didbut it wasnt Horns decision to leave him without a father.
Im certain once he starts seeing things through the eyes of a parent, hell come to understand his dad a little better, I assured her.
Im sure youre right, Lady Syra conceded. And perhaps the same will hold true for you as well.
Youre not seriously suggesting I reconcile with my mother and father, are you? I scoffed.
Im well aware that your mother has cultivated a layer of bitch you can break a shovel on, Syra said with a rueful smile. However, in her defense, the mistakes we parents make trying to protect our children are often the hardest for us to admit.
* * *
The sun was beginning to set by the time I returned home, laden with maternity swag. Since neither Hexe nor Beanie were there to greet me, I assumed he had elected to take the dog for a walk. I went upstairs and was hanging my three new maternity tops in the wardrobe when I heard a rustling sound behind me. As I turned around to see what was making the noise, one of the shopping bags from Barneys abruptly tilted over, spilling Scratch out onto the floor. Although he may be a demon, in many ways the familiar was no different from the typical housecatright down to the mad passion for investigating paper bags.
There you are! I laughed. Wheres Hexe?
Hes out in the garden with Beanie, the familiar replied as he rubbed the side of his face along the outer edge of a Neiman-Marcus bag.
I walked over to the window and peered out into the backyard, which was incredibly huge, thanks to the Kymeran talent of folding physical space like origami. Hexe was at the bottom of the garden, beyond the living hedge maze, playing with Beanie, who was eagerly chasing a red rubber ball around like a star soccer player.
I see you survived your shopping expedition with my mother, Hexe said by way of greeting as I made my way across the garden. How many stores did she drag you to?
I stopped counting at five, I replied. It wasnt that bad. In fact, I actually kind of enjoyed myself. Your mom is a helluva lot more fun to go shopping with than anyone in my family.
Im glad you had a nice time. You deserve to treat yourself, he said. Now that Ive got my hand back, maybe next time Ill be the one buying you nice things. He gave the ball another kick and Beanie leapt up as if he was spring-loaded, bumping it with his truncated snout like a trained seal. The ball flew into the dense tangle of ivy in the corner of the garden where the two walls joined, followed by the sound of breaking window glass. As I looked closer, I realized there was a small wooden structure, slightly larger than a potting shed, hidden deep in the dark green foliage.
Hexe walked up to the overgrown door and tried the knob, but it was rusted shut and refused to turn in his hand. I glanced through the broken window, as the other remaining pane was heavily covered by dirt, and saw a small potbellied stove, a table with a solitary, overturned chair, and the rotting remains of a narrow cot, all of it covered in dust. I looked over at Hexe, who had plucked the ball from the ivy and was turning it in his hands like one of his scrying stones.
I had almost forgotten this was still here, he muttered. This was where Jake lived. I was very young at the time, but I remember how he and my grandfather used to sit over therehe pointed to a pair of weathered Adirondack chairs positioned under a decorative wisteria bowerand chat while sharing a hookahnot at all like servant and master. When Jake died, it was the only time I ever saw my grandfather cry.
I wonder what it was like for him, living out his life in the garden, serving those who lived in the house his father built. To be denied his birthright, yet have it constantly dangled in his facehow cruel is that? He shook his head in disgust. My family has a long tradition of getting too caught up in what we are, instead of who we are. The gods and devils know its hard enough being a half-caste in the Royal Family . . . but a norlock?
Are you worried about what your mother said about the baby? I asked gently, slipping an arm about his waist.
Hexe grimaced as if hed bitten into a lemon. Astrologer or not, my mother doesnt know everything. I dont care how many fingers our kid has or what color his or her eyes might beno one is going to make him ashamed of who and what he is. Or her.
Youre going to make a hell of a dad, you know that? I grinned.
I still cant help thinking about how if Uncle Jack hadnt disappeared, all those years ago, both Jake and I would have grown up knowing our fathers, he said wistfully.
How so?
Jack was the true Heir Apparent, not my grandfather. But when Jack was swallowed up by the dimensional rift on the third floor, the mantle was automatically passed to Eben. Had Jack taken his rightful place as Witch King, my grandfather would have simply become yet another member of the aristocracy. He would have no reason to disown Esau in favor of my mother. Indeed, Esau would have had no expectations of inheriting the Throne of Arum at all. And maybe, just maybe, my uncle wouldnt have become such a twisted, bitter creature. As a minor noble without any claims to the throne, my mother wouldnt have had a reason to hide her love away, and she could have married whoever she wished without anyone raising an eyebrow. . . .
You might as well worry about what would have happened if President Kennedy had been assassinated in Dallas, instead of San Francisco, I countered. Or what if Christianity and Islam had gone to war with one another, instead of uniting to fight the Unholy War? Whats the point of brooding about things that never happened? All you get is a bunch of what-ifs that dont add up to anything real. You cant change the fact your father wasnt around when you were a kid. But you can take advantage of the fact hes around now. Just like you cant change what happened to Jake, but you can make sure our child will never be treated in such a manner.
Hexe laughed and pulled me into his arms. Youre as smart as you are sexy, you know that? Why dont you put on your cutest new maternity clothes? I might not be able to take you out on a shopping spree at Bergdorfs, but I think I can swing a night out at the Calf. Hey, maybe if we tell Lafo were expecting, hell throw in dessert!
* * *
The clientele at the Calf that night was what Hexe called the new normal: a sixty-forty mix of Golgothamites and humans, both sides skewing young, as most of the older, more conservative clientele had decamped to far less human-friendly establishments, such as Blarneys and Steppenwolfs, or stopped by only for lunch.
As we made our way through the crowded pub toward the dining room, I spotted an all-too-familiar figure with curly, peach-colored hair ahead of us. I instinctively grabbed Hexes arm in fear.
Thats Marzs croggy, Gaza, I whispered.
I recognize him, he said darkly.
Hes the one who fireballed the Big Top Club. Whats he doing here?
I dont know, Hexe replied as he watched the Maladanti disappear into the ground-floor kitchen. But I intend to find out.
We changed course and made a beeline toward the swinging double doors. Hexe pushed one of them open just enough to peer inside without being noticed. I had expected the kitchen of the Two-Headed Calf to be a large, noisy place full of sizzling flattops, flaming grills, rack ovens, and stainless-steel prep stations, crammed full of loudly cursing sous chefs, cooks, sauciers, and dishwashers. However, to my surprise, the only person in the entire kitchen was Lafo, who stood before a huge antique stove dressed in his cooks apron, stirring one of a dozen simmering copper vessels shaped like cornucopia arrayed atop the numerous burners. I had always assumed he was joking whenever he called himself chief cook, bartender, and head bottle washer, but apparently he was simply telling the truth.
Outside of the total absence of other cooks, the kitchen seemed otherwise normal, with coils of handmade sausage and hams hanging from racks suspended from the ceiling, and a wheel of cheese large enough to roll a wagon sitting on one of the counters.
Gaza strolled up behind Lafo as if he had every right to be there and announced himself by saying, I gotta admit, this joint has the best owl soup in Golgotham.
What are you doing in my kitchen, Gaza? Lafo growled, turning away from his pots to glower at the intruder.
Youre in arrears on your protection money, Lafo, the Maladanti replied tersely. Boss Marz told me to come collect whats due him.
Did he also tell you to pull my foot out of your ass? Lafo snarled. Because thats totally happening next if you dont get out of here! And you can tell Marz Im not coughing up another cent.
Id watch what I say if I were you, kitchen-witch, Gaza glowered, raising his left hand in a menacing gesture. Itd be a real shame if this place suddenly caught fire so soon after being renovated. . . .
Thats all Im taking from you! Lafo exclaimed, tossing aside his apron. Im not going to stand here and be threatened by a jackal in a bad suit!
Before Lafo could make another move, Gaza made a snapping motion with his hand, freezing the business owner in his tracks. Oh, but you are going to stand there, kitchen-witch, Marzs croggy sneered as he stepped forward. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the Witchfinder finger-cutter and held it up before Lafos temporarily paralyzed face, so that he could see it. He then slid it onto the magic finger of his victims right hand in a grotesque parody of a wedding vow. Lets find out how your customers like eating here once youre no longer able to charm the pots and pans. . . .
Get away from him! Hexe shouted, pushing open the kitchen doors hard enough to make them bang into the walls.
The fireball was already in Gazas left hand as he spun around, hurling the deadly missile like a southpaw pitcher tossing a knuckleball. Instead of moving his right hand in a defensive counterspell, Hexe caught the roiling ball of hellfire and held it in the palm of the gauntlet. He looked down at the mass of supernatural flame then back up at his attacker, and then, with the tiniest of smiles, he closed his mailed hand into a fist, snuffing out the fireball as if it were nothing more than a candlewick.
Hexe gestured again with his right hand and one of the coils of sausage hanging from the kitchen racks over Gazas head suddenly wrapped itself around the Maladantis throat like a python and yanked him off his feet. I hurried past the struggling goon and snatched the finger-cutter from Lafos hand, as the restaurateur was still trapped by Gazas paralysis spell.
Ive got it! I exclaimed, holding up the torture instrument so Hexe could see it. But if he heard me, he showed no sign of it; the look on his face was both angry and distant at the same time. He moved his right hand a quarter turn, and the meaty garrote about Gazas neck tightened even further. The Maladantis eyes started from his head and his tongue protruded from his mouth as he fought to suck air into his constricted windpipe.
I grabbed Hexe by the shoulder and shook him as hard as I could. Stop it! I shouted. Youre killing him!
The look of horror on Hexes face as he emerged from his weird trance was identical to that of a sleepwalker who has awakened to find himself standing on a precipice. The noose about the Maladantis neck went slack, dropping him onto the floor. Gaza staggered to his feet, massaging his bruised trachea.
Id get out of here if I was you, buddy, I told the dazed goon, who promptly dashed out the swinging doors, but not before casting a scalding parting glance in Hexes direction. Normally, I would have put a call in to the PTU, but fear of Boss Marz making good on his threat against our friends and families kept me from doing so.
A couple of seconds later Lafo snapped back to life, freed from the Maladantis spell. The first thing out of the restaurateurs mouth was a stream of Kymeran which, even to my ignorant ears, was clearly profanity.
Heavens and hells! Lafo bellowed angrily, once he finally switched over to English. That was the most horrible feeling Ive experienced in my lifebeing completely conscious of what was going on around me, but utterly unable to move or speak! That chuffer was going to take my magic! He threw his arms around Hexe, yanking him into a brotherly embrace. Praise Arum you showed up when you did, Serenity!
Im glad youre not hurt, but really, I just did what anyone else would have done in the same situation, Hexe said humbly.
Thats manticore bollocks and you know it! Lafo replied. Most Golgothamites are scared shitless of the Maladanti and wont lift a hand against them. I can never thank you two enough! He reached out and grabbed me with a long, heavily tattooed arm, dragging me into his impromptu group hug. You guys are awesome! Youre both eating and drinking on the house for the rest of the year! Once he let us go, Lafo finally seemed to notice the silver gauntlet covering Hexes hand for the first time. Hey, whats with the shiny glove?
Its a . . . family relic, Hexe replied vaguely.
Is that how you were able to field Gazas fireball? Ive never seen anyone actually catch hellfire before, much less snuff it out like that!
Just then a nymph with a pencil tucked in her laurel wreath crown barged into the kitchen. Lafo! Wheres that order for the four-top at table twelve? Two more minutes and Ill have to comp them their drinks!
Lafo snatched up his discarded apron and put it back on. Excuse me, folksIve still got a restaurant to run! He returned his attention to the collection of bottomless pots still bubbling on the stove. Go make yourself comfortable in the dining room. If theres anything in particular youd like thats not on the menu, tell your server and Ill whip it up special!
* * *
Despite the rocky start, it turned out to be a wonderful evening, with good food and excellent company. And even though we didnt need to tell Lafo I was pregnant to get a free meal, we went ahead and told him anyway.
Upon hearing the news, he grinned and belted out yet another one of his awesomes and returned momentarily with a towering meringue concoction atop a devils food cake that, when doused in absinthe and set alight, burned an eerily beautiful blue. As we watched, the outline of a young man took form within the sapphire-colored flames, then just as quickly disappeared.
The dessert never lies! Lafo crowed. Congratulations! Its a boy!
I looked across the table at Hexe, who had the same loopy grin on his face as when I told him I was pregnant. He reached across the table and took my hand in his own, the silver mail of the magic gauntlet shimmering like the scales of a bejeweled fish. I had never felt more loved and in love than I did at that moment. And yet, despite my happiness, the image of Hexe strangling Gaza by proxy continued to nag at the back of my mind.
Chapter 15
For the next couple of weeks Hexe dedicated himself to making up for lost time, cranking out potions and charms for all his regular clients who relied on him, as well as working hard to bring in new ones. For the first time in months it seemed as if we were finally starting to dig our way out of the financial hole we had found ourselves in. With both of us bringing in money on a regular basis, I was able to start setting aside part of my pay for the baby and other maternity-related expenses in a decorative cookie tin I kept on the dresser.
One evening, as I returned home from work, I spotted a woman standing on the sidewalk outside the boardinghouse, frowning at a piece of paper she held in her hand. She had red-gold shoulder-length hair that shone like a burnished shield. As I headed up the front steps, she stepped forward, casting her brilliant green eyes about nervously. She looked to be slightly older than myself and was easily one of the most beautiful women Id ever seen outside of a movie theater, although the Aéropostale dress she was wearing was way too young for her.
Excuse me, maam? she asked. Can I ask you a question?
Of course, I replied, trying to hide my bemusement at being addressed as maam by someone at least four years older than myself. Although I was three months pregnant, I wasnt in that big a hurry to be mistaken for someones mom.
Does someone called Hexy live here? she asked anxiously, gesturing to the boardinghouse.
Why, yes, Hex lives here, I answered politely. Hes my boyfriend. Are you looking to become a client?
I dunno, the beautiful redhead said. I guess so. This guy with a green mustache in Witches Alley said hes the person I needed to talk to if I wanted to get a curse lifted. All I know is that Im in a lot of trouble and Im scared.
Her lower lip suddenly began to quiver and she started to cry. And not the way a grown woman breaks down, either, by choking back tears and trying to keep it togethershe was just straight-up boohooing. Maybe it was my hormones kicking in, but I felt instantly protective of her. I put my arm around her shoulders, trying my best to comfort her as I escorted her up the front stairs and into the house.
Dont worry; its going to be okay, I said soothingly. By the waywhats your name?
Ashley, the redhead snuffled, wiping at her eyes.
Hello, Ashley. My names Tate, and I can tell you that youve come to the right place. Hexe is one of the best lifters in all of Golgotham. And Im not saying that simply because hes my boyfriend, I assured her as I unlocked the front door.
Once we were inside, I ushered her into the front parlor and had her take a seat while I went in search of Hexe. He was in the kitchen, dressed in an apron and a half-mask respirator, decanting a freshly brewed potion into a row of smaller bottles.
Honeyyouve got a new client! I found her on the front steps, trying to work up the nerve to knock on the door. Her names Ashley and she thinks shes been cursed.
Good! I havent had a chance to do any real spell-lifting yet. Im curious to find out just what the gauntlet can do, he exclaimed as he stripped off the respirator. Welcome to my home. Hexe smiled as he entered the room. Tate informs me that you are in need of my services, Ms. Ashley. What exactly is the problem?
Ashleys my first name, she said with a nervous giggle. My last name is Lattimer.
I see. How may I be of assistance, Ms. Lattimeror is it Mrs.?
Again with the nervous giggle. Mrs. Lattimers my mom. Ashleys eyes suddenly widened upon catching sight of Scratch as he emerged, yawning, from under the skirt of the couch and hopped onto the back of one of the chairs. Hello, kitty cat! she said with a laugh, reaching out to stroke the familiars sleek skull. What happened to your hair?
Scratch recoiled from her touch, fanning out his batlike wings in warning. Are you drunk or are you just stupid?
Ashleys eyes widened even further. You can talkand youve got wings! she exclaimed in delight. That is so cool!
Glad you approve, Scratch grunted, his ego mollified by her display of awe.
Do you mind? I have business to conduct, Hexe scolded, shooing the familiar off the furniture. Where were we? Ah, yes! Tate informed me that you believe you have been cursed. May I ask the nature of the infliction, Ms. Lattimer?
Cant you see? Just look at me! she said in exasperation, gesturing to her outwardly perfect body. If there was anything physically wrong with Ashley Lattimer, I certainly couldnt see it.
Could you perhaps be a bit more specific? Hexe suggested.
Ashley sighed and opened her purse, fishing out an official-looking piece of paper bearing the seal of the state of New York, which she then handed to him. This is a New York State learners permit, Hexe said, still baffled. Wait a minute! His golden eyes widened in surprise. Youre sixteen?
I was when I went to bed last night, Ashley replied, her voice beginning to tremble again. But when I got up this morning I was likethis!
I see, Hexe said sympathetically, handing her back her learners permit. Please step into my office, Miss Lattimer.
Now that I was fully aware of the situation, it wasnt hard to see the teenaged girl trapped within the body of the grown woman standing before me. As she entered Hexes office she stared in openmouthed amazement at the taxidermied crocodile hanging suspended from the ceiling. Hexe took one of his scrying stones from his rolltop desk and passed it over her body like it was a magnifying glass.
Its as I suspectedyouve been inflicted with progeria,a supernatural form of accelerated aging.
Am I going to keep getting older? she asked nervously.
No, he assured her. It doesnt appear to be an ongoing curse. Do you have any idea why anyone would have done something like this to you?
Ashley nodded, an unhappy look on her face. I go to this fancy prep school called Pridehurst. My parents arent rich or anything like thatI got in on an academic scholarship. I really like it there, and Ive made a lot of friends. Then last week I found out Im on the Homecoming Queen ballot.
I get it, I said knowingly. So someone decided to cut down on the competition by turning you from prom queen to chaperone. Sounds like a really lovely school.
Not everyone at Pridehurst is like that, Ashley insisted. But the ones that are like that are really rich, and theyre very mean.
Theyd have to be rich; progeria is a pricey curse, Hexe said in a serious voice. Its considered a petit mal inflictionstraddling the line between Greater and Lesser curses.
Can you help me, Mr. Hexe? Ashley asked plaintively.
Yes, but I need the permission of one of your parents to go forward, he explained. Despite your current physical condition, youre still legally underage.
Please dont make me call my mom and dad! Ashley pleaded, sounding very much like the sixteen-year-old she truly was. I dont want them knowing about this! I snuck out of the house before they could see me this morning. If they find out what happened, theyll yank me out of Pridehurst and sue the school! I really like it thereI dont want the school and the rest of the student body to get a bad name, because its not really their fault.