I promised you a sneak peek. Here it is.
A little setup so this makes sense. Gideon has just landed in Savannah on his very first assignment as a Conclave agent. Three families have each lost a child, and the Conclave’s own people have already been through the Marchetti house without finding a thing. In the scene below, Gideon is standing in a seven-year-old’s bedroom while Dacey waits behind him in the doorway.
This is when things start to get… complicated.
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The boy’s room was at the end of the hall. The door was open, and Gideon could see blue walls with a model of the solar system hanging from the ceiling.
Stepping through the door, he saw a bed with the covers thrown back, and a small dent still in the pillow. One wall was covered in wooden shelves filled with books and toys. A desk held an expensive-looking computer. Near the window, but knocked on its side, was a telescope on a tripod. On a colorful rug, he spotted a threadbare stuffed rabbit lying face-down where it must have fallen. Gideon looked at the rabbit for a second and had to breathe through clenched teeth.
He walked over to the bed. Closing his eyes, he hovered his hand over the bed without touching it. A magical signature lingered on the mattress. He snapped his eyes open immediately, recognizing the magic.
“Mage magic. He or she used a standard knock-out spell here. I assume to make sure that Anthony wouldn’t wake up and alert everyone. And I’m picking up a levitation spell – that must be how they got him out the window without leaving any physical traces of their passage.”
Gideon walked around the room. “No one even came inside. I can feel Anthony being floated out of bed and…” He traced the path of magic. “Towards the window. That’s what knocked over the telescope.”
Following Anthony’s trail to the window, everything in him went quiet and focused.
The window was partially open. A warm breath of morning air came through the gap and stirred the curtain.
At first glance, the ward appeared whole.
The window was netted like the rest of the house. To his second sight, it glowed faintly, unbroken and uninterrupted, humming its small, steady note.
He crouched, bringing his face up close to the ward. No longer trusting his eyes, he put his hand up, palm flat, an inch from the surface of it, and closed his eyes. He let his auramancer senses brush up against the ward. He felt along the surface, prodding gently at the magical barrier.
There.
Opening his eyes, Gideon could finally spot the thinnest scar in the ward, as if someone had carefully, thread by thread, created an opening in the barrier – like unpicking a seam. Then, after they grabbed the child, they sewed it back together. The reconstruction was nearly flawless, but he could see the joins where the threads were re-tied, the way a jeweler knew where a chain was broken and soldered.
A thread of magic ran the length of the mended seam. It was as fine as spider-silk and a bright, gleaming white, laced in and out through the vivid blue-white lattice of the ward.
Concentrating on the seam, he tried to identify the bright white thread of magic. It sizzled and crackled against his senses. The magic hissed like a live wire, making the hairs on his arms stand up.
Gideon wracked his brain, but he wasn’t familiar with the magic. It was like nothing he’d ever read about in his studies or similar to any Mythical objects Vena had mailed him.
“Giddy?”
Dacey was still in the doorway. He took comfort in the banked warmth of her magic. She must’ve noticed his reaction to the unknown magic.
“What is it?” she asked. “What did you find?”
He stood up slowly and turned to face her. “They came in this way. They used a mage to knock out Anthony and levitate him out the window. They did it from a distance – the mage never came inside this room. However, the magic they used cut a slit in the ward without triggering it…” He blew an annoyed breath. “Dace, I’ve never felt this kind of magic before. It… crackles. It feels like touching an electric fence. Then somehow, they basically stitched up the hole in the ward, closing it back up. I can barely detect the seam. The magical thread is white and sparking. I don’t know what kind of Mythical being could do this. Dace, have you ever heard of magic that’s white and crackles like static?”
She thought about it, then shook her head. “No. Never.”
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Ten days to go!!!!
P.S. Next week I’m introducing you to the Savannah Conclave. There’s a barefoot dryad, a minotaur chauffeur, and a gargoyle who will absolutely make you sign in before you’re allowed in the crime scene.
