A Spell for Masking and Misdirection
While honesty is the best policy, occasionally there’s a call for craft.
If you’re cornered and you need to create some breathing room, you require a working that causes people to focus elsewhere.
It’s best to choose a diversion that’s naturally dramatic so it doesn’t strike your audience as strange that they’re invested in the outcome.
Meanwhile, that intrigue allows you the space to complete whatever you’re trying to achieve.
Mind, this isn’t a permanent solution. The charm doesn’t mean they’ll look away forever or never think about you again.
They say you don’t regret the risks you take in life; rather you regret the ones you didn’t. As for me, I’d always rather know what would’ve happened if I had taken a chance. While I do want you to be safe, my gem, I also want you to be happy.
And you’ve a bold, bright spirit, and I am awed by the person you’ve become, even as I wait to see what more you’ll accomplish.
Our life together has been so much more than I ever imagined for myself, back when I was a young hobgoblin.
Oh, I’m still green, just no longer young, but I fancy I’ve some wisdom yet to impart.
Bless you for coming to me, my darling daughter. I wouldn’t be me without you.
Smoky quartz and tourmaline
Valerian and foxglove
A smidge of magic
This working is deceptively simple, and that’s the power of it.
The components serve as a focal point for your magic.
Place the gems in one pocket and the herbs in another.
Now close your eyes, and imagine your magic cloaking you from notice, not invisibility, not even like the skulking spell I taught you early on.
No, you’re perfectly visible. You’re just not worthy of attention.
Their eyes will slide right over you and fixate on something—or someone—else.
The amount of power you pour into this spell might impact its duration.
I once cast it too strongly, and people thought I’d gone missing.
Used that to my advantage, I did, and kipped off from work for a week.
We had a splendid holiday in the wildlands, didn’t we, my gem? You swam with Nerys in icy brooks and Shereth painted you blue because that’s the color you wanted to be that week. I made pigweed flatbread and mushroom stew until we were weary of it.
That’s the next point I need to make. This spell will never work on people who truly love you. Don’t even *try* to trick us. We’re coming to the end of this guide, only one spell more in my repertoire. And I saved the best for last.
Thea
Before the quorum’s first session, I cast the masking-and-misdirection spell.
Now Lord Liskaal shouldn’t be able to punish me before Zeph executes their plan.
It’s a peculiarly lonely day, the final one before all our fates are sealed.
I speak with Tara and my dad, but not Rosa or Zeph.
On the way to the great hall, those two pass without pausing.
Likewise, Govannon doesn’t see me either.
I’m braced for the worst when I turn the corner and spot Kerboros striding down the hall toward me.
I wait for him to pass. To not see me. And my dad’s words, written in the magical handbook, echo in my head: This spell will never work on people who truly love you.
But…Kerboros stops, a quiet smile lighting his usually somber features. “I missed you yesterday. I thought you’d be in our suite at night, at least, but—”
“I was with my dad most of the day,” I tell him. “And overnight. We had a lot to discuss. I didn’t have a chance to let you know.”
He tips his head, seeming curious. “Did you mention me? Is that why he took me for a drink?”
Oh no.
In fact, I did mention my feelings for Kerboros yesterday afternoon, and I didn’t think I needed to ask Da to be discreet, but apparently, I was wrong.
“I wondered where he went.” Before he can respond, the announcements begin, a resonant-voiced staff member calling out titles of those entering the quorum.
“We should go separately. It’ll be safer. ”
“I’ll go first,” he offers at once.
And I understand the reasoning without him articulating why—he’s offering himself as a sacrifice.
Lord Liskaal will be livid when Kerboros appears, after having failed his last task.
Based on what I know of his past, there was dark magic, a compulsion binding his actions, and as far as Liskaal knows, Kerboros shouldn’t be free to refuse whatever Liskaal demands.
The Lord of Winter could order Kerboros to fall on his sword, and he is willing to die for me, even though he could flee.
“Stay safe,” I whisper, watching him go.
He passed the test I didn’t intend to set for him. The spell doesn’t work on people who truly love you. And Kerboros sees me, always.
I haven’t run into Olive, but that might be for the best. We’re sisters, and it would hurt if she doesn’t love me, but it might be unreasonable to expect love so fast. For now, it’s enough that I like her and that she cared enough to search for me.
After counting as high as my patience allows, I slip into the great hall to take a position at the edge of the room. Liskaal is screaming invectives at his cousin, being held back by two burly boggarts in Autumn colors. “I will not—”
“Silence!” Lady Mirralee raps three times on the table where the other representatives are seated. I don’t recognize the rulers, but I can tell Summer from Springtide based on their colors. “Lord Liskaal, you will have an opportunity to address the quorum, but you have not been recognized.”
“Sit down, Liskaal.” The lazy order comes from a handsome fae in Summer’s hues. That must be Lord Sorren.
“You requested the first speech,” Lady Mirralee says to Zeph. “I am prepared to indulge you.”
“Of course,” the Springtide ruler says with a snicker.
I can see why people say they’re eccentric.
“Call Me Pell” is wearing what looks like a dressing gown over a long skirt paired with sturdy mud-encrusted boots.
If they’ve combed their hair in the last week, I can’t tell.
They carry dishevelment to the next level, cultivating it the way some fae do perfect beauty.
Their levity earns a mordant look from Lady Mirralee, but Zeph glides to the center of the room, untroubled by the rising tension.
“I’m here to address Winter’s inadequacies.
They were entrusted with the task of renewing the peace accords between Summer and Winter.
As of tonight, they have failed most ingloriously. ”
“I will see you dead for that insult,” Lord Liskaal spits.
Lady Mirralee levels a killing stare at the Lord of Winter. “Have a care who you threaten in my demesne, or you will be the one to lose your life.”
Zeph continues as if the interruption didn’t occur. “This is the contract I prepared and signed. Please note the fine print.”
Lady Valnevi sucks in a sharp breath. “What—”
“Hope they can read my writing,” Rosa says with a muffled laugh.
A memory pops up—Rosa mentioning her terrible handwriting. I don’t entirely understand what’s happening, but Zeph presents the contract to Lord Springtide, along with a magnifying lens. “Please read this codicil aloud, milord.”
“Please! Call me Pell.”
Zeph smiles. “Please read it, Pell.”
“As you wish!” For some reason, the Springtide ruler decides to do so in an uncanny imitation of Lady Valnevi’s shrillest tone.
“‘If the marriage between Thea de Winter and Devan J. Fenelon is not consummated within forty-five respites, the marriage shall be annulled, and the House of Summer can choose a different representative for the peace treaty. If Winter fails in this compact, they agree to select new leadership by rationale of incompetence, per past precedent for a vote of no confidence. The quorum of the four courts is bestowed with full jurisdiction in this matter.’”
Pell’s vocal stylings are so distracting—and amusing—that titters come from the crowd. Until people realize what’s actually been said. Then the room explodes with reaction as Liskaal thunders, “What trickery is this?”
“No trickery, just pixie penmanship,” Zeph says.
It seems like they hid an entire clause in the ornate swirl of an o. This is… I don’t even have a word for the joy sparkling through me with all the fizz of sparkling honey wine.
“Unacceptable,” Lady Valnevi shrieks. “We will fight to the death before honoring—”
“No.” The simple word from Lady Mirralee quiets everyone in the room.
“This is not dishonest. The words were written so you could have seen them, had you been more observant or if you had a trusted pixie in your employ. I opine that this contract is valid, the required time has elapsed for failure, and the quorum now has jurisdiction over Winter’s affairs. What say you, Pell? Lord Sorren?”
“Valid,” the Lord of Summer says.
“It’s valid,” Pell agrees. “Delicious! Ridiculously apropos. To think I considered missing this entirely. I’m so glad I put on my good boots.”
Those are the good boots? I sneak another peek at them. Still muddy. Fascinating.
Lady Mirralee makes a gesture, taking the contract from Pell. “Your complaints are noted and dismissed. The next order of business is—”
Lord Liskaal draws a hidden dagger and rushes at Mirralee, but one rather handsome gruagach in Autumn livery restrains Liskaal casually, forcing him to his knees. “Our people will rise up in revolution! They will never accept this travesty!”
Lord Sorren bursts out laughing. “You’re delusional. You must have no notion how much they hate you.”
“He’s right,” Pell adds. “So very right! They’ll likely throw a party. Oh, I do love parties. I hope there’s cake.”
“We can do that once all business is complete,” Mirralee says. “Zeph, I believe you have a nomination for the Summer marital alliance with Winter?”
“I offer Thea Summer, formerly affiliated with Winter, but she held no official titles. Here are the documents formalizing her relationship with our house.”
“Everyone knows that Devan Fenelon has ties to Summer and Autumn,” Lady Valnevi screeches. “This is all bias and corruption!”
Ties to Summer and Autumn? I glance at Lord Sorren, who merely smiles at the accusation. Does that mean Zeph is the mysterious scion, born to Lady Mirralee and, maybe, the Lord of Summer? This is a game changer.
“And who is next in line for leadership in the House of Winter?” Pell asks.
“Lineage is such a nuisance. Let’s do a lottery instead!
Everyone who belongs to Winter, put your names in a bowl!
Any boggins could do a better job at ruling than those two.
” They indicate the pair screaming and twisting in the guards’ custody.
Pell has a point.
Zeph ignores that suggestion, as it likely doesn’t fit their vision. Random boggins rule assuredly doesn’t suit this complicated scheme. “That would be Kerboros.”
“Does anyone object?” Lady Mirralee asks.
They ignore the futile shouting from Lord Liskaal, now being forced onto his face, cheek smashed against the glossy tiles. Lady Valnevi receives similar treatment as the voting takes place. Within moments, it’s over, a unanimous decision resulting in a bloodless coup.
Kerboros seems stunned, too shocked to speak, by his sudden rise to power. He’s escorted to the high table and offered the seat that belongs to the Lord of Winter. His gaze meets mine across the room, and I smile.
He’s saved. I can breathe again. So this was Zeph’s gambit?
Hide a fail-safe in the marriage contract and then misdirect and delay, delay, delay?
Well. It worked. It likely helps that they were getting constant reports from Summer and Autumn, at least until we wound up in the In-Between.
I do believe that wasn’t part of the original plan.
Pell indicates the two prostrated before the assembly, spitting hate.
“Whatever shall we do with them? They’ll cause trouble, left to their own devices.
Oh! We could cover them in metal and turn them into statues!
” They seem so very delighted with the idea that they don’t realize how everyone is staring in wide-eyed horror.
I hope things are all right for the wild fae in Springtide. I don’t think this ancient fae has many tethers left to reality.
Lord Sorren clears his throat because there’s no way to respond to any of that, turning to Kerboros. “Lord Winter? What is your decree?”
Everyone glances at Kerboros, who displays a menacing aspect. “Strip them of their magic and banish them to the mortal realm.”
“That’s a death sentence,” Liskaal snarls.
“Not immediately. You’ll suffer. And that’s the judgment you imposed on Thea. It’s fitting for you to experience it for yourselves.”
“I like you,” Lady Mirralee says in an approving tone. “House Winter is certain to improve under your leadership.”
Only afterward do I realize what this means.
They intend for me to marry Kerboros to seal the peace accords between Summer and Winter.
Without Liskaal and Valnevi agitating for war, it’s largely a symbolic gesture, and I suspect it’s also an apology from Zeph.
For not sharing their intentions sooner.
When the new Lord of Winter glides through the crowd to join me, I feel like I could burst with joy.