Chapter 3: Astoria - Bound to Ruin

This is not the first time the Magistrate’s officers have shown up at my front door. It is the hazard of being rumored to be the black-market magical book and item dealer in Delornia. This, however, is the first time they’ve shown up while Lucas is busy hiding a dead body.

Not to mention that the mystery stranger skulking around is either a sign of my slide into curse-riddled insanity or a flaw in my own security.

Said primary security flicks her fluffy cat tail to smack me in the face. My bland smile doesn’t slip as I quickly scan the warrant. The magician has cast a spell over the scroll that conceals the most important information until I comply. That bitch.

The fact they haven’t immediately arrested me is a good sign. Lucas could be right, and they’re here to see if I’m harboring Astoria Androclaria. Or perhaps they know who I really am.

Or this is Dimitar’s revenge in play. Hurray for me.

I step to the side. “Of course. Anything to assist the Magistrate.” Assholes.

“Thank you.” The human man steps in first, and I feign graciousness when I take the warrant offered to me. The magician follows. Our eyes meet. Her bowler hat hides her shorn hair, but I bet there are sigils tattooed all along her skull.

The wand in her hand lifts, and I don’t flinch. I have no need. Jinx has the magician trained in her sights and a vibration of protection shivers over me. One wrong twitch and my familiar will transform into her shadow demon form and rip the tainted soul out of the woman’s heart in an instant.

Though that would mean one more body to clean up, and I’m all tapped out on that front.

The woman’s eyes narrow on me, and I keep my expression unreadable. With a wave of the magician’s wand, the water drenching both officers begins to funnel towards it in long trailing droplets. A fine steam twists from the wand’s tip and the human officer sighs with a twitch of his mustache, “Thank you, Hobbs.”

I nearly pull something keeping my snort on the inside. Hobbs? What a quaint name for someone so dangerous.

The bell on my front door dings merrily as I shut it. “May I offer you some refreshments? Officer…” I scan the warrant quickly. Oh damn. “My apologies, Corporal Jagger. I have a fresh satchel of Estrella’s finest herbal tea that I can brew up.”

“That would be lovely, thank you. Hobbs?”

Hobbs shakes her head and turns her back to me. I flick my gaze over her and my eyes glint, my glamour shivering as it fights to hold strong against the Androclaria green that glows beneath the hazel. There’s a metallic tang in the air that can only be from an amulet, but it mixes with a sickly sweet scent. My eyes narrow on how she’s buckled up her deep navy uniform all the way to her jaw with no signs of loosening it. What I wouldn’t give to rip it apart to find the type of amulet that is emanating that particular flavor.

The gold buttons of the uniform gleam temptingly in the lamplight and my hands twitch, but I resist satisfying my morbid curiosity. Hobbs is a powerful magician. Corporal Jagger is investigating my shop. That is all I need to know in order to get them out as quickly as possible.

The Corporal shrugs out of his outer coat and I take it from him like the dutiful host I’m pretending to be. I hang his coat, my eyes flicking covertly to the silk curtains that obscure the wall where my concealed basement’s iron door sits. I swallow, my jaw setting. I can do this.

I ascend the three steps with Jinx firmly wrapped around my shoulders. I make it to my front counter without any further incident and allow my familiar to hop off onto it to glare with her glittering blue eyes at both officers. Her feet are soundless on the lacquered wood and I stroke her fluffy coat as she curls to sit, the tip of her tail twitching.

I still.

A human-skin-bound grimoire is crawling out of the stacks behind the officers. Its spine is ripped to ribbons to form tiny feet like some sort of large, squat millipede.

I scritch Jinx harder than I mean, but her rigidness tells me that she’s spotted it, too. I swallow, my eyes flicking up to the officers. Hobbs is eyeing the ceiling like she’s searching for traces of blood that are hiding within my magic, and Jagger is smiling professionally at me. His eyes betray him. They’re sharp like he’s taking in every micromovement from me. I don’t dare look at the grimoire again and force my body to relax into a casual, unbothered stance.

My heart hammers in my throat. I need to get these two out of the main bookshop so Jinx can do what she does best: subdue these sneaky bastard books. Like a sheep jumping the fence of its pasture, if one has figured out how to take advantage of my pentagram acting up, then there’s bound to be others who have slipped through the weakened shop fronts and are skulking about. If either of the officers turns around, I won’t need to worry about the dead body or Dimitar trying to frame me. I’ll be imprisoned for trading illegal goods. Grimoires must be returned to the Astrum Forest for safekeeping, as is detailed in the Revolution’s treaty, which is why my business is so lucrative.

But where can I move the Magistrate’s dogs? My loft is completely out of the question. There’s no way in hell I’m showing them where the entrance to my inner sanctum is. That leaves only one other option, and I loathe to do it.

I give Jinx a soft squeeze and step to my silk curtains, sweeping them back. “Please, let’s sit and discuss. I’d like to read your warrant while the tea steeps.”

Offering the back room while Lucas hides in the basement has me nearly breaking out in hives, but I’m out of options. I swallow and flick my gaze to the grimoire. It’s continuing its jaunty stroll towards the front door. My molars click as I watch Hobbs pause.

Get in the fucking back room, bitch, I urge silently.

The magician’s gaze meets mine again. The building pressure within me threatens to speed up my breathing. I focus on controlling my expression, controlling my eyes, controlling my breathing.

If Lucas pops out of the basement while they’re here, I’m going to fillet him alive.

The magician takes a step and I bite my tongue until it stings to keep my sigh of relief in check.

Movement behind her right shoulder attracts my eyes.

But then a crash in the back room has both Hobbs and I igniting our magic. My last thread of sanity keeps my flames in check and power crackles to raise the hairs on my arms. Hobbs rushes forward, and I shove down my instinct to attack. I call out instead, “Are you alright, Corporal?”

Jagger’s low, embarrassed chuckle reaches us. “I’m terribly sorry, Rosemont. I was trying to clear a chair and made a bit of a mess.”

I smile warmly at Hobbs and step to the side with an elegant sweep to gesture her past the curtain first. Hobbs’ lip twitches in a hint of a sneer before she steps by me. I let my gaze dart back to the shop. As I feared, a second book is shuffling its way out of the stacks, this time using its case to open and close like an inchworm. Oh, for the love of all things holy and unholy, can I catch a break?

Jinx pounces soundlessly, tackling the second book in an elegant roll. The scuttling first book squeaks and tries to turn to make a break for it, but its tiny legs aren’t made for speed.

I quickly speak to Jinx through our connection. They’re going to search the shop!

I know! Get your ass in there and stall while I hunt the rest.

My head throbs with a growing headache, and I try to close the curtains as nonchalantly as possible. My nerves are starting to fray; I cannot risk any slip-ups. I take a subtle breath. I can do this.

I permit myself the smallest glance towards what appears to be a bare wall behind the two officers. The illusion hiding my blood-smeared basement door is as perfect as always.

I wave a casual hand. “Please, sit.”

My magic hums into existence. I hold Hobbs’ unwavering gaze as the books piled on my chairs and abandoned bags of supplies shift to float to far corners of the room. Two chairs slide out for the officers and my comfortable office chair rolls over. I sit and cross my long legs elegantly, the other two following my lead.

I’m showing off. Jinx would chastise me for wasting energy, but I can’t help it. The less Hobbs gives away, the more I desire a reaction. Jagger appears appropriately impressed, at least. I ripple my fingers in a dance to brew the tea.

Three teacups and a pot glide over. The pot sits on a rune that I carved into my worktable to heat my cauldrons. It works just as well to keep the water warm as the leaves steep. The teacup and saucers gently click down in front of us. With a final flick of my fingers, I say, “I apologize for taking so long to answer the door. It is rather late, and I was quite disoriented at the abrupt awakening.”

Jagger fingers the edge of his saucer that Nora had gifted me one year ago, following the elegantly painted floral design. “Quite understandable, I assure you. It’s not often we use the summoning sigil at this hour, but time was of the essence.”

“Oh?” I flick out the warrant and carefully scan the freshly revealed words now that they were granted entry. My brows rise. “You’re looking for someone?”

Jagger clears his throat. “Yes. We received a tip that they might be within the shop. That’s why I have Hobbs here with me. She’s rather good at discovering anything hidden.”

A clenching unease from within nearly robs me of my smile. “What a talent. I’m sure the Magistrate is pleased to have such a magician on loan from the Guild.”

“Quite.”

“May I ask who you are looking for? I could look at my ledgers to see if they have stopped by and made a purchase.”

“I doubt this individual would’ve come by during the day. Did you notice any disturbances tonight? Any trips to your securities?”

Like I’m going to reveal shit to either of them. The last thing I need is the Magistrate sniffing around my shop in a long-standing investigation. Lucas and I can deal with the dead body. As for the intruder? This wouldn’t be the first or last time someone has tried, and I made sure none of them were found again.

I lie through my teeth. “Nothing comes to mind, unfortunately. If there was, I might not have noticed it. I was deeply asleep until the summoning activated. Sugar?” A sugar bowl hovers between Jagger and me.

He nods. “Yes, please.”

A lump drops in his empty cup. My eyes drift to the magician. “Officer Hobbs?”

Hobbs is scanning my back room, eyes narrowing at the magical window above my desk. If she is a seeker, the window’s potent flavor of Creation magic would mask any hint of a second illusion, keeping the secret of my basement door under wraps. It’s why I had it installed. That and I’m rather fond of how it looks. A win–win.

Jagger clears his throat. “We were tipped off that perhaps the person in question would be waiting for us here.”

My brows draw together. “Corporal, I understand the desire to keep these things vague, but my curiosity is quite piqued. I am a simple bookshop keeper who enjoys their solitude. I’ve unfailingly cooperated with the Magistrate for years. Perhaps if we speak plainly with each other, we can get to the bottom of this issue. It might trigger something in my memory so I can give you some information that could help.”

Jagger’s jaw works, and he taps his index finger on the table. I flick my fingers, and the teapot lifts and pours out three perfectly hot cups. Milk is poured into mine and my spoon stirs itself. I take a slow sip. “Ah, Nora does know how to mix a good blend.”

The Corporal takes up his own cup. He sips, and Nora’s tea works its subtle magic. Nothing nefarious by any means. It’s a friendship brew. One to lower hostilities and encourage conversation. It is her best seller. He sighs appreciatively. “I’ll have to stop by tomorrow to restock.”

“It really does take the edge off this stormy night. What do you think, Officer Hobbs?”

Hobbs doesn’t touch the tea, her gray eyes counting the stones along my bare wall. I smirk into my cup. Good luck trying to find an irregularity there. My Aunt Vi was a brilliant Creation weaver and she taught me all she knew.

A pang of grief clenches my heart, and the image of her dead body hanging above my father’s throne catches my breath. My stomach rolls with sickness and I try to quiet it with another slow sip. Cool air touches my leg, and I bear down on all my control to keep my illusioned outfit from flicking more than just at my ankles beneath the table.

I take a deep breath and hide it with a slow blow over the hot water. Calmness. Control. I am fine. My magic is mine. I control it.

Thankfully, neither officer seems to notice. Jagger adds another lump of sugar to his cup. “You must forgive Hobbs here.”

I blink, nearly forgetting my previous question about tea and cold nights. I tilt my head slightly. “Not much of a conversationalist?”

Jagger stirs his sugar. “Something like that. It’s perfectly alright if you choose not to speak to her. Hobbs doesn’t mind. She prefers to be my silent shadow.”

My gaze snaps to Hobbs’ throat before flicking away. With that one statement, my suspicions of the magician solidify. I would bet my shop and all my riches that under that wool coat hides a dark secret that only a few magicians can survive.

The sickly sweetness in the air is from a curse, one that even I would think twice about facing. Perhaps she offered up her throat in a sacrifice to the dark magic. I imagined a raw, blackened space for an Amulet of Imbibing to be fused. Inflicting constant, endless pain, yet keeping the wand’s Entropy magic from devouring her juicy soul. And like my lived experience with Jinx and the Rosemont Black Flame, I’m sure there’s a limit for how long it works before the Entropy magic overwhelms the protection.

My heart pangs for the thread within Hobbs’ wand. Every thread was once a weaver’s soul. To create this abomination of a weapon exploited by the humans, a weaver from my mother’s family domain had to have been slaughtered. Severed like this, there is no way for the Soul Thread to ever connect back to the Tapestry.

There’s no doubt in my mind that Dimitar sent Hobbs here tonight with the Corporal. Only the Amur could command such a magician, and I’ve never met an officer pairing with such a powerful token.

My tongue glides along my teeth. Could Dimitar be the one behind Vincentius’ murder? Does he have the power to take down a weaver of Vincentius’ caliber? The Amur did stand against both Valen and Lucas within my basement a few days ago. I’m incredibly skilled and even I would think twice about fighting both men together. Perhaps Dimitar lured Vincentius to the Guild with the promise of an alliance against the Archweaver.

Jagger sets his tea down with a sigh. “Maybe you are right. We should be open about the details of our search. I doubt you’re involved in this rather prickly situation, and you might have some unique insight that we haven’t considered, with your ancestry being what it is.”

My brows pinch as I try to understand what he thinks he knows about Aster Rosemont versus the truth of Astoria Androclaria. “Happy to be of any assistance.”

“We’re looking for a missing weaver.”

It takes every last drop of my self-control to not snap “Which one?” and a bubble of hysterical laughter nearly escapes my chest. I can’t tell if it’s from the stress, sleep deprivation, corruption, or all three. “A missing weaver?” My calm tone impresses even myself.

My father basically screamed to the whole world that I’m alive and in Havenport when he put that sizable bounty on my head. The Guild had made quite the scene wrecking the streets trying to grab me.

Yet, there’s something not quite right about that theory. Could Vincentius already have been reported missing?

A familiar, ghostly whisper brushes my ear. I’ve missed you…

Bile hits the back of my throat and my right hand spasms. My muscles lock up as I fight against my baser instincts to whip around to spot my brother’s emaciated form behind me. Instead, I stare at Jagger unblinkingly, my teeth clicking, waiting for the Corporal to flinch or gasp at a figure appearing behind me.

But the Corporal sips his tea, completely unbothered. I let out my breath slowly. The cursed version of my brother told me that Alasdair was too far gone to be saved. Now that I’ve cut the curse free, Alasdair will die.

Perhaps he’s already dead. If not, I saw that welded-together binding collar on his throat myself. There is no way in hell he could ever break from it in his withered state. He couldn’t be here.

I swallow and force myself to blink in an attempt to soften my wide-eyed stare. The voice. It felt so real, and it’s not the first time I’ve heard it tonight either. It whispered to me after I found the body in the foyer.

A chill shivers down my spine. How much longer do I have before corruption robs me of my mind? Weeks? Days? Hours? Or perhaps it’s already done, and I’m really laughing in a dark corner of my shop, rocking and smiling too widely.

Jagger helps himself to more sugar, oblivious to my spiraling thoughts. I stare, transfixed, when the lump falling makes the smallest of ripples. My pounding heart nearly drowns out Jagger’s response. “I’m aware that you’re no longer involved with the Astrum Order, but I’m sure you’d know of this weaver. He is rather renowned in and out of the Order. We received a tip that he was spotted entering your shop this evening.”

Male pronouns. They don’t think I’m Astoria, and I have no idea if I should be relieved or not. Damn it. I’m too rigid, but I cannot seem to relax my body. A whisper falls from my lips, “Which weaver?”

Jagger sighs and Hobbs’ eyes land on me. Finally, the Corporal says, “Vincentius Bauer the Third.”

My teacup crashes to the floor. Hobbs’ lips tilt in a small smile. They know.

Jagger settles in his chair. “You seem surprised.”

Jinx’s voice fills my mind. Books are under control. You can stop panicking now. It’s rather annoying.

But I can’t find the will to respond. Looking at Hobbs’ smug face, there is a bone-deep conviction within me that Dimitar killed Vincentius and planted the body in my shop.

What if Dimitar has Valen? Suddenly, I can’t breathe. If only my disguise could dull the very real scrape of dried blood on my skin, but it doesn’t. The stiffness of my blood-soaked robe makes me want to rip it from my body.

Memories of the congealed clots squishing under my hands when I fell flood me. The dripping walls. The scent of raw meat. The tendons and muscles… Oh, fuck. Bile rises in my throat, and my eyes burn from the effort of keeping my gaze trained ahead.

I’m going to faint, my body swaying. I slam my hand down on the table to catch myself. I snarl. Get it together. Do not let these assholes win.

My voice is too controlled, too flat, but I can’t seem to get myself to sound normal. “I apologize. I’m rather… shocked. That’s the Preservation Domain’s Councilor. If he were to enter my shop, that would entangle me with the Order and as… as…” I clear my throat. My hands are trembling, but I can’t feel them. Everything is cold. “As you know, I don’t associate with the Order. It’s key to being an independent merchant within the city.”

Hobbs needs to stop staring at me. I’m teetering between unyielding, blind rage and screaming as a total meltdown threatens to take over from the whirlwind of events.

I force in breath and attempt to harden my heart. This panic attack needs to be rescheduled for later. Right now, I need to get the Magistrate’s dogs out of my shop so I can get downstairs and talk to Lucas. We need to take action to prepare for Dimitar’s next move. We need to ensure Valen is safe and alive.

Darkness unfurls within my chest, its seductive tendrils stroking my insides to lure me into its control. A tremble vibrates through me. I cannot give in to its power. Not now when Dimitar’s trap is snapping around me. I grit my teeth against my heart’s pain and shove all thoughts of Valen away. It’s what must be done to get through this.

I clear my throat and surprise myself with my casual air. “Please, search the shop to your satisfaction. I fully comply with the Magistrate.”

With a nod from Jagger, Hobbs is on her feet. I don’t track her. Jinx can take care of that.

I suck in breath once more. I need to stop all these spiraling thoughts immediately. Jagger is watching me like a predator assessing their prey.

My eyes burn, but I somehow manage to summon another teacup. I fill this one by hand and thank the Tapestry that nothing spills. I pick up my fresh cup and say with a stable voice, “My, what a political nightmare it would be if you don’t find him. An Order Council member going missing within the city? What will the Archweaver do?”

Jagger’s lips purse. “I’m sure it will all be fine. We’ll find him. Hobbs is excellent at her job.”

I smile, but it’s more of a grimace. I take a sip to hide it and hiss down my connection to Jinx. If the bitch so much as looks at a book wrong, kill her.