Chapter 10
Ten
Martin
Had Grayson always looked so uncertain? So small and lost? Had my earlier prejudice blinded me so badly I couldn’t see the individual before me clearly enough?
Perhaps. Then again, we all wore masks when confronted by those we didn’t know or situations we found intimidating or uncertain. Perhaps Grayson’s mask was better than most. I found I didn’t like either option, though for vastly different reasons.
Our shared silence wasn’t strained. If anything, it was peaceful. My inner dryad magic contentedly hummed now that it was closer to the part it had willingly given up. I hadn’t gotten the feeling my magic was upset regarding the loss. The gain had been equal if not superior to that which we’d lost.
Grayson’s magic was so much different than my own.
For lack of a better word, Grayson’s magic felt a little wild and more than a little mischievous.
It danced around, preening for my magic, desperate for any type of attention.
My magic seemed all too willing to comply and happily indulged Grayson’s spark.
Last night I’d felt his magic zipping through my body, its buzz traveling here and there as my more stoic and steady magic chased it.
The joy Grayson’s magic emitted was something I’d never experienced before, and though it had only been two days, I couldn’t imagine parting with it in the future.
That magical spark woke something dormant within me. I felt lighter and freer than I had in years, possibly decades. I was beginning to think my birth soil wasn’t my only treasure.
“I think I’m ready to try again,” Grayson said, breaking the quiet. “Admittedly, I’ve been putting it off.”
“What changed your mind?”
Grayson’s soft chuckle made me reflexively grin. “Henry.”
My eyebrows winged upward. “You don’t say?”
“I do say. There’s a fair amount of wisdom packed into such a little fella.”
I rolled my eyes. “Dear Gaia, don’t let him hear you say that. You should have seen the shit he and Hikaru got up to when…” My words trailed off as I thought of the kitsune and all he’d been through.
“Have you heard from him?” Grayson asked.
“Not directly.” My smile felt bitter for some reason. “Hikaru wouldn’t contact me directly. Not that he reached out to Keir this time either. Keir called Warlock Holland yesterday to check on Hikaru.”
Grayson sat forward, his pale blue eyes attentive. “And what did he have to say?”
“Not much. Nikodemus Holland is a warlock of few words.”
“Sounds typical,” Grayson agreed.
“True enough.” I let loose a weighty sigh. “From what I understand, Hikaru hasn’t done anything…destructive.” I cringed, remembering some of Hikaru’s more memorable outbursts when he’d been younger. “Holland’s a good influence in that regard.”
“And the tail remnant?” Grayson asked. “Has Warlock Holland found a way to return the magic to Hikaru?”
“Not yet, but if there’s anyone who can, I think it will be Holland. He’s a very capable warlock.”
“And now head of the Warlock Council.”
I barked out a laugh. “Much to his dismay and utter disgust. It wasn’t a job he really wanted.”
Grayson’s nose cutely scrunched. “Understandable. I, for one, have absolutely no use for such nonsense. Most will-o’-the-wisps feel the same way. We’re too individual to want to band together and form a ruling party.”
And that was exactly what the Magical Usage Council was for—beings like will-o’-the-wisps.
Some species’ numbers were too small to form a ruling body of their own.
Others had absolutely no desire to do so.
Still, conflicts arose, and it was beneficial to all those involved to have an oversight—a group of individuals who could look into the source of the discourse or offense.
Our job was to find a compromise or hand out justice.
I could understand where Grayson was coming from. “I’ve no interest being in charge of the Magical Usage Council.”
“Wise dryad.” Grayson added a saucy wink for effect.
“I wouldn’t go that far.” I certainly hadn’t been very wise when it came to Tenzen Huxley.
Grayson shrugged as if he either didn’t care or wasn’t certain. Head tilted back, Grayson cracked his neck. “So, you ready to try this?”
My focus snapped back into place now that we were back on topic. “I’m ready if you are. Admittedly, I’m not certain what that entails.” It could be I wasn’t ready at all.
“Me either. I guess we’re winging it.” Grayson was trying to sound flippant. The hesitant hitch in his breath made me think otherwise. “How about we start small.”
That sounded reasonable. “What does that mean, exactly?”
Cool, blue flames tickled Grayson’s fingers, licking its way up his arms. “I always hear the call, but it’s louder when I activate my wisp side.
” He flexed his fingers, fisting them before relaxing and stretching them again.
A frown pulled at his lips. “The only problem is that in here”—he tilted his head, indicating the space we were sitting in—“I only hear the call of your soil. It’s not bad.
In fact, it feels incredibly…good. Unfortunately, that’s not currently helpful. ”
“Do we need to leave the conservatory or my quarters entirely?”
“Let’s find out.” Grayson popped up off the ground.
I followed at a more sedate pace. Arms stretched out before him, Grayson headed back inside.
Walking farther away from my soil, Grayson headed for the door.
Eyes scrunched and lips little more than a thin line, Grayson looked at me and said, “Looks like we need to leave.”
“Should we go to someone else’s quarters?
” I was certain Keir would be willing. Tabitha too.
I wasn’t so certain regarding Jima. Ferrets were hoarders by nature.
I could only imagine the amount of treasure Jima had collected over the years.
Now living in Virginia with his mate, Frost’s rooms hadn’t been used in months.
Most of our remaining members were scattered, doing the work the council was originally founded to perform.
Given our losses, there were a number of rooms available that were no longer in use. I didn’t relish the idea of going into one of those. None of us had had the heart to clean or clear them out. Instead, those individuals’ quarters sat empty—little more than shrines to the dead.
Grayson eased my mind. “I don’t think we should use anyone’s personal space. I’d probably pick up on something, but just like your rooms, the treasure would be theirs, not something Huxley left behind.”
There was always the chance Huxley had stowed something in one of our rooms. I nearly tripped over my feet when that thought floated through my head.
“There’s nothing else in your space,” Grayson said, his fingers barely touching my shoulder. “I would have felt it earlier if there were.”
“I… Thank you. I hadn’t even considered it before, and once I did…” I shuddered. “I don’t like the idea of Huxley leaving anything that close to me.”
“Perfectly understandable. I’m glad I could at least allay that fear.”
“So am I. After we’ve practiced a bit, it might be a good idea to check out those other rooms, just to be certain.” Starting with Keir’s.
“We can do that,” Grayson agreed. “For now, let’s head back to my room. My understanding is that it’s a guest room and was never anyone’s private space.”
“That should be true.”
“It’s also where I made my last attempt.
” Grayson turned his head, briefly glancing up at me as we continued down hall after hall, heading toward the opposite side of the compound.
Fingers fisting, Grayson’s unease was clear, making me wish I knew how to ease his concern. Hopefully, I would remedy that soon.
A few more minutes of walking brought us back to the visitor section of the compound.
There were half a dozen rooms located there, most of them hardly used over the years.
Grayson opened his door. I caught a glimpse of motion out of the corner of my eye and turned just in time to see a piece of green cloth pulled through a crack in the wall.
Seeing as how the quilt covering Grayson’s bed was made of the same material, it wasn’t difficult to put two and two together.
“I told him he could take some,” Grayson said, obviously seeing where my attention was. “Henry liked it so much. I couldn’t see a reason to tell him no. I hope that’s okay.”
Running my fingers through my hair, I blew out a deep breath. “I’d imagine it’s fine. All Henry has to do is tell us he needs something and we’ll get it for him. It’s not like we’d deny him.”
Grayson grinned. “But where would the fun in that be?” His soft laughter sounded nice.
“Seriously, house dwellers are scavengers. It’s not in their nature to simply ask for something.
” Henry had indeed asked Grayson if it was okay if he take some, but that wasn’t the same as wanting it to be handed to him.
Considering he’d found the comforter, it still counted as something scavenged.
I kept my thoughts to myself. Henry’s needs were so small they hardly made a serious dent in anything, and to my knowledge, Henry had never taken anything valuable from any member of the council. Most of what was discussed was utilitarian things or food. Nothing any of us truly missed.
Grayson was at his bed, lifting the quilt. The small patch that had been removed was no more than six to eight inches in length and width. “I hope it helps keep him warm,” Grayson absently mumbled before flopping down on the bed, arms splayed out like a starfish while his legs dangled off the side.
Unsure where to sit or what to do, I just stood there, feeling awkward.
Glancing around, I didn’t see much in the way of personal effects.
Nothing that would hint at Grayson’s personality.
The will-o’-the-wisp wore rings on nearly every finger, their style a mishmash of different eras.
I’d seen will-o’-the-wisps do this before.
It was their found and claimed treasure.
At least it was what they could easily travel with.