Chapter 21 Ivy
IVY
After finishing her indoor performance at the café, Ivy made her way to the Book Nook with her guitar case and a growing sense of urgency. The community's protection had felt comforting, but it was temporary. Sebastian was here, in Hollow Oak, and she needed real solutions.
"Back for more research?" Moira looked up from the stack of legal texts she'd been organizing, her mahogany curls escaping their braid after what looked like hours of work.
"If you don't mind. I need to understand exactly what I'm dealing with before the Council meeting."
"Of course. I've pulled everything I could find on binding dissolution and sanctuary law." Moira gestured toward a table laden with open books and scattered papers. "Some of it's quite promising."
Ivy settled into the seat across from her and opened the first volume. "Where should I start?"
"Consent clauses. The foundation of any legitimate magical contract is informed, uncoerced consent. If we can prove Sebastian used deception or magical influence to obtain your signature, the entire contract becomes void."
"What counts as magical influence?"
"Mood alteration, confusion spells, anything that impairs judgment or free will during the signing process.
" Moira turned several pages to a section marked with ribbon.
"There's also the question of unequal bargaining power.
If one party has significantly more magical knowledge or resources, courts can rule the contract unconscionable. "
Ivy read through the legal precedents, making notes as she went. "This case from North Carolina. The witch who was bound to a coven leader who controlled her magic for seventeen years."
"Cecelia Morrison. The court ruled that contracts requiring total magical subjugation violate basic supernatural rights." Moira's voice carried professional satisfaction. "The key was proving that the binding prevented her from accessing her own power independently."
"That's exactly what Sebastian did. The contract made it impossible for me to perform without his permission, or even practice on my own."
"Can you remember the specific language he used?"
Ivy closed her eyes, forcing herself to recall that day in his office when she'd thought she was signing a standard management agreement. "Something about 'exclusive representation of all magical abilities related to musical performance.' I thought it just meant he'd be my only agent."
"But the magical binding interpreted it more literally."
"Much more literally. Within a week, I couldn't even hum without feeling like I was stealing from him."
The door chimed, and Ivy's head jerked up hopefully. For a moment she found herself wanting it to be Dorian, wanting to see his green eyes and easy smile, to feel that sense of safety his presence had begun to represent.
But it was just a customer looking for a cookbook, and Ivy forced herself to focus back on the research. She had enough guy problems without adding romantic complications to the mix.
"Here's something interesting," Moira said, pulling another book toward them. "Community sanctuary precedents. Towns with protective wards can offer legal shelter to individuals fleeing magical persecution."
"How does that work?"
"If the Council officially grants you sanctuary, you're protected from external magical influence while within Hollow Oak's boundaries. Sebastian's bindings would be suppressed, possibly severed entirely."
"Temporarily or permanently?"
"Depends on the strength of the original magic and the duration of the sanctuary period." Moira traced a finger down the page. "But there's another approach that might be more effective. Something called 'songs of unmaking.'"
Ivy straightened with interest. "I've never heard that term."
"Ancient fae magic. Using musical power to unravel bindings by singing them apart rather than cutting them." Moira's expression grew thoughtful. "It requires intimate knowledge of the original binding structure, but when done correctly, it dissolves magical contracts without harming either party."
"As opposed to what?"
"Forced severance, which usually damages both the binder and the bound. Like cutting a rope that's holding up a bridge while people are still on it."
The door chimed again, and Ivy found herself glancing up despite her best efforts. Another customer, this one browsing the fiction section. She needed to stop hoping for rescue and focus on rescuing herself.
"Songs of unmaking," she said, turning back to Moira. "How would that work with Sebastian's bindings?"
"You'd need to understand the magical structure he used, then compose counter-melodies that would unravel each binding thread without triggering the contract's defensive mechanisms." Moira pulled out a slim volume bound in deep blue leather.
"This has some theoretical frameworks, but honestly, most of the practical knowledge was lost generations ago. "
Ivy opened the book and began reading, her mind already working through the implications. "My grandmother used to sing protective wards. She taught me how to weave intention into melody without creating dependencies."
"That's exactly the skill set you'd need. Ward magic and binding magic are mirror images of each other."
"So if I can create protections that don't bind..."
"Then theoretically, you could create dissolutions that don't damage." Moira's excitement was barely contained. "It's risky, but it might be your best option for permanent freedom."
For the next three hours, they worked through texts on magical theory, contract law, and fae music magic. Ivy took copious notes, her handwriting growing smaller and more cramped as she tried to capture every relevant detail.
"The key seems to be understanding Sebastian's specific magical signature," she said, flexing her increasingly sore fingers. "Each warlock has a unique approach to binding magic."
"Right. And you'd need to compose the unmaking songs in a way that matches his energy patterns while inverting their effects."
"Like harmonizing in reverse."
"Exactly." Moira lit a fresh candle as the afternoon light began to fade. "The real question is whether you remember enough about how his magic felt when he was creating the bindings."
Ivy shuddered at the memory. "I remember. I wish I didn't, but I remember."
"That's good. Unpleasant, but necessary for this approach to work."
The door chimed a third time, and Ivy caught herself looking up again before forcing her attention back to the page in front of her.
She was being ridiculous. Dorian had his own life, his own responsibilities.
Just because he'd been helping with the festival didn't mean he had time to check on her research.
And she definitely didn't need the distraction right now.
"Here's something else," Moira said, pointing to a passage in an older text. "Binding contracts can be challenged if the magical practitioner created them within the territory of another supernatural authority without permission."
"Sebastian created the bindings in Nashville. Does that help?"
"It might. If we can prove he's attempting to enforce them here without Council approval, that could be grounds for immediate intervention."
Ivy wrote until her fingers cramped and the candle had burned down to a stub. By the time they finally stopped, she had filled nearly twenty pages with notes on legal precedents, magical theory, and potential approaches to breaking Sebastian's hold over her.
"This is substantial," Moira said, reviewing Ivy's work. "You've got multiple legal angles and at least one magical approach that could work."
"But no guarantees."
"Nothing in law or magic comes with guarantees. But you've got real options now, which is more than you had this morning."
As Ivy gathered her notes and prepared to leave, she found herself glancing one more time toward the door. Still no Dorian, which was probably for the best.
She had enough complications in her life without adding whatever was developing between them to the mix. Right now, she needed to focus on breaking free from Sebastian's control.
Everything else could wait.