Page 32 of Runaway Magic
Cym didn’t have to worry about driving Fourteen insane because, impossibly, he wasn’t affected negatively by Cym’s magic. A smile touched Cym’s lips.
Cym could have good things.
He could havethis.
“I guess we will.” Sunshine broke through the clouds and warmed Cym’s face. The world around them grew brighter until the edges of reality softened and blurred into nothing.
Chapter 10
Marshall
Marshall ignored the spell that washed over him as he drove down the overgrown road leading to the Blaike Compound. It was a harmless but powerful suggestion that encouraged the recipient to find another, better-traveled road to get to the beach.
If the Blaike family hadn’t insisted on having their home right next to the ocean, they wouldn’t have needed such a powerful spell to protect their privacy. But they had power and money to burn, so they did what they liked.
The further in Marshall drove, the more his inner sight conflicted with the information his eyes were giving him. According to them, the road had given way to the forest, and he was now plowing his truck through a tree and heading straight for a large rock formation. His inner sight told him they were driving down a neatly maintained cobblestone road leadingtoward an imposing brass gate bracketed by rock walls on either side.
In the seat next to him, Adelle touched her index finger and thumb together making a circle then pulled them apart abruptly, like a popping bubble. Suddenly Marshall’s inner sight and his eyes agreed with one another again.
“Thank you, Addy. That was giving me a headache.”
Jack made a queasy noise of agreement from the back.
“Make sure to replace it once we’re through the gate. There’s no point in pissing off our hosts until it’s necessary,” Marshall felt the need to add.
“Of course,” was Adelle’s offended response.
“So,” Marshall said, continuing their conversation earlier, “the only people who have a problem with the Blaikes are the Benighted. How is that any different from their usual grumbling against the Beloved?”
“You’re spending too much time with the older Guard members, Marshall,” Adelle said, rolling her eyes. “Their antiquated way of thinking is rubbing off on you. Just because they can’t assimilate as easily into the Real as we can doesn’t mean the Benighted have nothing to offer the Guard.”
Marshall twisted his mouth in disgust, realizing that he’d been caught quoting the sentiments of the Council. “Ugh, it really sneaks up on a person, doesn’t it?”
Adelle acknowledged his concession with a nod but continued to drive her point home. “Just because you haven’t joined the council doesn’t mean they won’t use every chance they can get to groom you for the position of Praetor. You’re going to have to come to a decision soon.”
Marshall grunted noncommittally.
“But to return to your question, yes, these rumors come from the disadvantaged aspects of our society. That’s why I haven’t acted on them, considering how much of what comes from theBenighted is violence and lies. However, they are still people, Marshall, and sometimes they need our help. If these aren’t just rumors, we’ll need to act. From what I’ve heard, the Blaikes are ruthless in their dealing with the Benighted, and it’s gotten to the point where most of them refuse to deal with anyone in the family.”
“Whereas the Beloved can’t stop singing their praises. Sounds like a case of sour grapes to me,” Jack drawled.
“What I’ve failed to mention is that a significant enough portion of their contacts in the Benighted have gone missing recently.” Her clipped words let Marshall know he needed to tread lightly here. If Adelle took up a cause, she’d tear through friend and foe to see justice served.
Marshall nodded slowly. “That’s more serious. Why am I only hearing about it now?”
“Because each and every one of the missing people were all skeezy enough to have found their end in a dozen other ways,” Adelle conceded, blowing a stray hair away from her nose grumpily. “I was planning on looking into it after we finished our original assignment, but that’s all shot to hell now.”
“Hold that thought.” Marshall pulled the truck up to the gate and stopped. His windshield became translucent and an animated domino mask greeted them. “Welcome, Guardians. What business brings you to the Blaike house today?”
Marshall slipped into guardian-mode. “We are here for an audience with Matriarch Elanor.”
The mask’s delicate features took on a semblance of friendly sympathy. “It pains me to tell you this, but our beloved matriarch is away on a restorative holiday. She hasn’t been feeling well as of late. Perhaps another clan member could help?”
“That will do. Let us speak to Stella.”
“Oh dear.” The expression in the mask’s face became strained, if still pleasant. “I’m afraid Mistress Stella has had a bit of an altercation today and is in the infirmary. She isn’t available either.”
“I’m not afraid of the infirmary, are you, Adelle? Jack?”
