As we went inside, Liam flipped the “Open” sign to “Closed” and locked the door. Standing next to a diamond ring display, I tried to stop my brain from endlessly replaying the unsatisfying conversation. I focused on the rings: the stones in the rings were nice and sparkly, but the gold was muddy. It wasn’t the 24-karat that the label claimed. A wizard should have known that.
Actually, I had no idea what a wizard should or shouldn’t know. I’d never met one, though I’d heard of them. Their spells were fueled by gold and, as I understood it, drew from our natural abilities, such as causing and resisting fire. The security spell that Dad had used last night was supposedly based on detecting our ability to breathe fire, calling to the nascent embers within us—in other words, it was a wyvern detection spell.
Glancing out the window, I saw shoppers and tourists. No Ryan.
What would he have said if we hadn’t been out on the street, if we’d been alone? We hadn’t spoken since the Reckoning. He hadn’t called or emailed or even tried to check onme.
“Sky, you okay?” Liam asked.
He didn’t sound like he really wanted to know. It was a “suck it up and pay attention” kind of tone.
“We trust this Maximus?” I asked softly.
“We don’t trust anybody who’s not family,” Liam answered just as softly. He then plastered a smile on his face as a very handsome, very tall, and very dark-skinned man strode through the back door.
“Liam! Delighted to see you!” He smiled, and it was as if a spotlight shone on him. He appeared to be mid-twenties, though sometimes it’s difficult to tell with our kind, with more muscles than a jeweler should have. His voice was rich and low, like he should be recording movie trailer voice-overs. He didn’t look or sound anything like Dumbledore. He looked as if he’d walked off the set of a perfume commercial.
Liam clasped Maximus’s hand. “Maximus, I’m pleased to introduce my sister to you. Sky, this is Maximus, an old friend of the family.”
“Not so old as all that.” He flashed his overly magnificent smile at me, and I didnotroll my eyes, which I knew would make Dad proud. Clearly, Maximus was aware he was absurdly gorgeous.
As Maximus continued to ooze charisma at me, Liam cleared his throat. “I’m here to buy from the special collection.”
“Of course you are. Shall we get down to business?” He pulled out a chair for himself and for Liam. When he went to fetch an additional one for me, Liam stopped him. “She’s only here to observe,” my brother said.
Thanks, Liam,I thought, but I stayed by the rings with their subpar gold.
“Very well,” Maximus said. He redirected his movie-star smile toward Liam. It felt like a spotlight shifting aim. “I’m sure you’ll understand why, but I have to renegotiate a few of the minor details of our transactions. Lately I’ve been getting a lot of pressure to break off relations with your family. Hate to do that, given our history, but I will need to compensate for any loss of opportunity you’re costing me.”
“Frankly, Idon’tunderstand,” Liam said, his voice still friendly. “My family’s personal problems don’t have anything to do with our business here. This is purely a monetary transaction. Now I have some lovely things for you this time.” Reaching into his coat pocket, Liam pulled out a black velvet bag. He opened his hand and poured the contents onto his palm.
A necklace, a bracelet, and two rings.
All of them were Mom’s.
“You can’t!” The words burst out of my mouth.
Both men looked at me. Maximus seemed interested. Liam was frowning. I felt my face flush red. I knew I was only here to observe, and I knew that the fact that Maximus hadn’t gotten a chair for me was significant; I wasn’t supposed to be part of the conversation. Wyvern protocol was clear. I should have stayed silent. But selling Mom’s jewels! On her birthday! Liam turned to Maximus. “What Sky is trying to say is that these items have significant sentimental value to our family, as well as intrinsic worth, and we won’t part with them easily.”
“Ahh, I see. They belonged toher,did they?” From his expression, I expected him to lick his lips, rub his hands together, and cackle maniacally. Maybe he wasn’t a movie-star hero, I thought; maybe he was a villain.
“That wasn’t a fact that I intended to share, but yes.” Liam shot me another look, and I couldn’t tell if it was a real glare or a staged one—it was possible I’d helped his cause. Leaning forward, he began bargaining in earnest now, asking for spells in exchange for the jewels. He bargained hard, emphasizing the emotional importance and the whiff of scandal attached to them, which would be a great selling point for Maximus.
It took all my self-restraint not to grab Mom’s jewels out of Liam’s hand and run for the door. What right did Liam have to sell Mom’s jewelry? How could Dad have approved this? They were hers! She’d gathered them, hoarded them, maybe someday planned to pass them on to me. I knew that necklace. She’d worn it at her throat with her blue silk dress. And those rings—I could picture them on her fingers. I thought of her hands, detangling my hair, helping me wash away early attempts at wearing makeup, turning the pages of a magazine as we had breakfast together. And now we were selling off her things. It felt obscene and final….
It occurred to me that maybe this was why Dad had told me to come along. He never did anything on a whim, and I wasn’t here to help Liam. Maybe he thought this would helpme.Give me some closure. Help me move on.
He was wrong about that.
All it did was make me angry.
As I stared at the jewelry, Liam’s and Maximus’s voices faded to a buzz. A plan. I needed a plan, to take control of my life, to make things right. But how? My hands were clenched. I felt my heart rate increase. I felt as if my skin were tingling—like the moment before your fight-or-flight reflex kicks in—and I looked out the window…
And saw Ryan.
He was kicking a can across the street, as if casually, but looking at me the entire time. He stepped into the alley beside the store, and then he leaned back out and looked at me again. A month ago, I would have laughed at his lack of subtlety. Now I couldn’t remember how to laugh. His message couldn’t be clearer:
He wanted to talk.
