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“I smell…” Derry wet his lips, his eyes flashing gold, “…a bunny.”
Snapping my mouth shut, I decided that was why Dad hadn’t turned Marita into a prey animal for transport.
“Touch that bunny and die.” I kept walking. “And get ready to run.”
“We’re leaving?” He palmed Marita’s forehead and shoved her back. “I call upsies!”
“Too late.” I hid my smile as his face fell. “I’m flying AirDad this time.”
The reminder I couldn’t summon wings for myself was enough to wipe away my amusement too.
This whole magicless thing really and truly sucked.
CHAPTER THREE
Dividing me from the Hunk had never been a priority. Too many other emergencies had crowded it out. I wasn’t surprised that what bumped it fromI really should get around to thistomayday, maydaywas the loss of my magic. The vulnerable didn’t survive in our world, and I was now as helpless as any human on the street. Except I had the added bonus of powerful enemies to match my former black witch status.
Clutching the crimson bunny against my chest as Dad flew, I asked, “Where are we going?”
And yes, Blay had suckered me into carrying him on four legs using his newfound weapons. Liquid bunny eyes and a fluffy cotton tail. Derry and Marita weren’t thrilled to miss out—on the transmogrification or on the flight—but I didn’t trust the gold in their eyes when they looked at Blay’s silky fur.
“I have an acquaintance worth visiting. He might have an idea how to nullify the Hunk.”
Hope I might access my magic soon buoyed me, and I cuddled Blay closer for the duration of the flight.
An hour after leaving ground zero, we set down on a dirt road leading onto a rickety covered truss bridge painted in shades of red that curled from its weather-beaten planks.
“Youracquaintancelives there?” I scanned the area, but there was only the one structure, and the erosion of the road convinced me no one had driven this way in years. “Bridge troll?”
“He’s half black witch and half bridge troll, yes.”
“Maybe transform Blay?” Not that it would do me any good in my current state, but the urge to reach for my wand while in the presence of another black witch was overwhelming. I would feel safer when Blay was less vulnerable. “I don’t want him thinking we brought him a snack.”
“Hiram, old friend.”
A man, sort of, climbed up from the riverbank. He had the right shape for a witch, but his skin was gray as stone and cut through with cracks. Lichen speckled his cheeks like an acne outbreak, or maybe freckles. His eyes were the dark green of growing things, clear and bright, and they crinkled as they swept over Dad.
“Horatio Proctor.” Dad curved his lips, but his gaze remained distant. “It’s been too long.”
Proctor.
The name clanged through my memory like a wrung bell.
“I thought you were dead.” Horatio chortled then crested the rise and spotted me. “Hello, child.”
The sweep of his tongue across his lips confirmed I still read as a witch to others of my kind. He must be ravenous to size me up as a potential meal with Dad right beside me. Yet more proof he didn’t get many visitors out this far.
“This is my daughter, Rue.” Dad’s expression darkened, hardened into pure menace. “Put your tongue back in your mouth, or I will rip it out of your head and strangle you with it.”
“Daughter?” Horatio wiped the back of his wrist across his mouth. “That would explain how she created a dark artifact onaccident.” His assessment turned curious but no less hungry. “The rest of us should be so lucky.” He noticed the bunny and placed a hand over his heart. “Youdidbring me a gift.” He reached for Blay, his fingernails as hard as flint. “How kind.”
“Touch the bunny and die.” I tightened my grip on Blay, caught Dad’s warning expression, then cleared my throat. “And thanks for offering to help.”
“Dark artifacts aren’t born every day.” Proctor’s ravenous gaze lingered on the bunny, who flashed his…fangs? “Rarer still are those who can create them.” He lost their staring contest. “We didn’t know your father was such a one either.” His envy flushed his cheeks. “Not until he gave birth to the Maudit Grimoire.”
Cold dread trickled down my spine, but I wanted to hear him confirm it. “You know about the grimoire?”
“Know about it?” His indulgent smile revealed algae-green teeth. “I helpedwriteit.”
