The Fairytale Curse (Magic's Return Book 1) (24 page)

Mum slammed into the kitchen and got herself a glass of water. I got the funniest feeling she was trying to hide the fact that she was crying. Mum never cried. Dad was the teary one in our family, always losing it at soppy movies. Mum could remain dry-eyed no matter how many cute puppies died or little kids lost their families.

“Mum? Are you okay?” I went after her, tugging CJ with me. “Has something else happened?”

We hadn’t been expecting her home tonight, after all. If all these responsibilities were keeping her so busy, what was she doing here?

She turned to face us across the kitchen bench. There were tears in her eyes.

“I have to fly to Paris tomorrow. Something’s happened to Dad.”

My breath caught in my throat. My first thought was a plane crash, or maybe a car accident. But she hadn’t said
Dad’s had an accident
. I swallowed hard. “What’s happened?”

She took a deep breath. Her hands gripped the benchtop so tight her knuckles went white. “He’s been … turned into a bear.”

“A
bear
?”

“Oh crap,” said CJ. “Which fairy tale is that?”

“If we’re lucky, it’ll be
East of the Sun and West of the Moon
, and he’ll only be a bear by day. It’s still daytime in Paris so we don’t know yet.”

Oh, God. Poor Dad. Tears stung my eyes as I sank down on the couch in a rustle of satin. CJ settled next to me. Mum hadn’t seemed to notice yet that we were still holding hands.

“And if we’re not lucky?”

She sighed, scrubbing wearily at her eyes. “Then it could be a longer term thing. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I came home to pack. It’s an early flight. I have to be at the airport by five. By the time I get over there we should know more, and hopefully I can make arrangements to bring him home, if nothing else.”

“So he could be a bear forever?” I felt sick.

She tried to smile, but if it was meant to reassure us it failed miserably. Mum seemed to have aged ten years overnight. I’d never seen her look so lost and miserable. “I’m sure it won’t come to that. Dena’s very good, and Emmet is a great researcher. We’ll find a way.”

But they hadn’t found a way to wake up Snow White yet, had they?

“Who’s going to fix our collars now?” CJ said, more to me than Mum.

Mum stiffened. “What’s wrong with them?”

CJ let go of my hand. “They don’t work any more.”

Three green frogs hopped across the tiles towards Mum.

“Dam
nation
.” She closed her eyes. A split second later they flew open again. “Wait a minute—
you’ve
got the frogs?”

“That’s right,” I said. “And I’ve got the diamonds.”

“How in God’s name did that happen? What have you girls been
doing
tonight?”

“Nothing. We just went to the formal.”

I gave her a brief outline of the evening, leaving out the part where Josh dumped CJ in front of the whole senior school. Mum didn’t even know they’d been going out. I didn’t mention kissing Zac either. There were some things you just didn’t need to tell your mother.

She came and sat with us in the family room, looking shell-shocked.

“And they just started to get hot for no reason? You didn’t damage them in any way?”

“Nope.”

“Did anyone touch them apart from you? Were there any strangers there?”

“No and no.” Not that the strangers thing made any difference. Puck had been disguised as someone we knew last time. “Do you think there was a Sidhe there?”

“I don’t know. Puck’s in custody, and we haven’t seen any unusual activity on the monitors. But who knows any more? All the rules have changed.” She rubbed her face wearily. “It could just be that the collars reached the end of their useful life. They were only ever meant to be a stopgap measure. Dad would know.”

But of course we couldn’t ask Dad now. Her shoulders slumped. Maybe that was why the Sidhe had targeted him. He seemed the most useful of the warders.

“How did they get to Dad in Paris, then, if there was no activity on the monitors?”

“Good question.” Mum considered me thoughtfully. “For that matter, how did they get to Sergei when he was on that plane? Sidhe can’t travel on planes, there’s too much iron and too little space for them to tolerate it.” She sighed, a deep, defeated sound. “Perhaps someone set a time-delayed spell. More likely it’s just further proof that we have a traitor or two among us.”

That was sucky: that someone could deliberately be hurting the people they worked with, trying to destroy the organisation they had supposedly dedicated their lives to. No wonder Mum looked so despondent.

“I hate magic,” CJ said into the silence. “Why couldn’t you guys be accountants or something?”

“We can’t change who we are, Crystal. It’s our duty to continue our ancestors’ work. We’re the only ones who can protect humanity from the Sidhe.”

“Did Dad find out if the cauldron’s safe?” I asked.

“I don’t think he had time. That’s another reason for me to go to Paris.” She stood up and stretched. “But right now I have to go pack. And so do you two.”

“Are we coming to Paris too?”

“No.” Mum gave us the disappointed face again. Nothing had such power over me as that look. I felt like a worm. No, lower than a worm. “Since I obviously can’t trust you girls to do the right thing, you’ll have to move into HQ so Dorian can keep an eye on you while I’m gone. I’m not having you running around unsupervised any more.”

“But Mum, we could help!”

“Consequences, Crystal.” Mum gave her a steely glare. “You should have thought of them before you defied me.”

I could barely keep my eyes open as the big car purred through the dark streets. We’d dropped Mum at the airport so early it was still practically the middle of the night, but she was too steamed up about last night to leave us alone for a moment. She should have known no self-respecting teenager would get up to anything before breakfast. Too early. But she wasn’t taking any chances, so we got dragged out of bed about five minutes after we went to sleep.

Simon was wide awake, though no more cheerful than usual, so there was no chitchat. I was kind of glad it wasn’t Kyle this morning; I still felt guilty over the trick we’d played on him last night. I hoped Mum hadn’t chewed him out too.

CJ wasn’t even pretending to be alert; her head leaned at an uncomfortable angle against the window beside her, eyes shut. We were nearly at HQ; I watched the night-time city slide by past the windows, quieter than I’d ever seen it. It was too late even for late-night partygoers, and too early for anyone else. A garbage truck clanked along the street, seizing its chance to be king of the road, orange lights flashing a warning, though there was no one to see except us, and we were quickly past.

The Rocks huddled like a ghost town under the dark arch of the Harbour Bridge. Not even the windows of HQ were lit as we slipped quietly into the garage. There were only a couple of cars there before us; our footsteps echoed hollowly off the concrete walls as we made our way to the lift.

Simon led the way through half-lit corridors to the kitchen, where he offered us toast or cereal. CJ shook her head. She hadn’t said a word all morning, not even to say goodbye to Mum. Her eyes were red and swollen, as if she’d spent more of the night crying than sleeping. I’d brought the silk scarf downstairs this morning, thinking to tie us together so we could talk freely, but she’d pushed me away with a vehement shake of her head. That seemed like cutting off your nose to spite your face to me, but arguing with CJ was a waste of breath, so I’d just shoved it in my pocket in case she changed her mind later.

I poured myself a big bowl of cereal and yawned. I hadn’t slept so well myself, alternating between fretting over Dad and replaying every moment with Zac in my head.

I slid my foot over to touch CJ’s before I spoke—I didn’t want to be fishing diamonds out of my cornflakes. A girl could choke to death on one of those suckers. She didn’t look up from her own bowl, but at least she didn’t pull her foot away.

“So what’s the plan for the rest of the day?” I asked Simon. I wanted to help. There must be something we could do.

“We’ll have to check with Warder Kincumber. He’s usually up around six thirty. I’ll bring your bags up to the guest quarters when you’ve eaten, and you can get settled in while you’re waiting.”

The guest quarters was where we’d stayed before. There were four bedrooms off a central lounge area. Last time CJ and I had shared a tiny room that barely fit two single beds. Hopefully we could spread out a bit more if we were going to be here for the whole holidays.

God, I hoped Mum and Dad came back before then. I didn’t want to spend two weeks wondering what was going on in Paris, with Simon looking over our shoulders every minute. I checked my watch, but it was too early yet to ring Zac. I was busting to talk to him again. And maybe do a little more than talk. The memory of that kiss made my lips tingle, though some of the shine had gone off it now. I couldn’t stop thinking about Dad, wondering what he was thinking—if he could even think any more—and hoping he was okay.

Another guy came into the kitchen. He wore a Star Trek T-shirt and an apologetic expression. He could have been late twenties, but it was hard to be sure because his light brown hair was well and truly receding, which made him look older.

“Sorry, am I interrupting?”

“We’re just grabbing some breakfast,” said Simon. “Come in. Have you met the girls? Crystal and Violet, Emmet Branson.”

The guy whose file we’d looked at.

“Hi,” I said, and caught a diamond with my spoon. Oops. I pressed my foot back against CJ’s.

Emmet’s eyes widened. “You must be Warder Reilly’s daughters. May I?”

He reached over and plucked the diamond from my spoon. A soggy flake of cereal clung to it, which he wiped off onto his shirt, leaving a damp milky patch. Then he examined the diamond from every side, turning it over and over as if he’d never seen one before.

Simon shoved a packet of cornflakes across the table towards him. “You going to have some breakfast?”

“Oh, right. Thanks.” Emmet looked as if he’d forgotten what he’d come in for. He laid the gem down, wiping his milky fingers on his shirt, and got himself some cereal and a glass of juice. I wondered if his T-shirt had always been quite so mottled, or if he made a habit of wiping odd things on his clothes.

“I don’t normally see you here at this hour,” Simon said.

“No, well, we’re very busy at the moment.” Emmet kept sneaking little glances at me and CJ as he ate. He had a kind of apologetic air about him, as if he felt like he shouldn’t be here. “I was here until late last night, too. Warder Bhutra and I are trying to adapt Warder Reilly’s theories to help Kerrie Davidson.”

“Any luck?” Simon couldn’t disguise the eagerness in his voice. Right. Kerrie Davidson was Snow White. I looked at CJ, sure she’d see this as more evidence of Simon’s interest in the sleeping girl, but she stared miserably at her breakfast.

Emmet shook his head and picked up the diamond again.

“Forgive me for asking,” he said to me, “but why aren’t you wearing your father’s collars?”

“Because they don’t work any more.”

“Really?” His eyebrows shot up. “What, both of them?”

“Uh-huh.”

“That’s odd. Do you have them with you?”

“In our bags.”

“Mind if I have a look?”

“I’d love you to. I hope you can fix them.”

“We’ll drop by your lab in a little while,” Simon said.

“Great.”

After breakfast we headed for the guest quarters. Someone had already delivered our bags.

“I’ll leave you to unpack,” Simon said. “I’ll be back soon and we’ll take those collars to Emmet and Warder Bhutra.”

“You don’t have to come back,” I said, spitting diamonds all over the floor. “Just tell us where it is. I’m sure we can find our way around.”

“It’s no trouble,” he said, though his face told a different story. Mum must have given him strict instructions not to let us go anywhere alone. This was going to be a nightmare.

By the time we got to Emmet’s lab, Dorian Kincumber was there too. Must be a day for getting up early.

“Good morning, ladies.” He smiled, but not in a particularly welcoming way. Here was someone else who didn’t seem too pleased at being saddled with us. Well, the feeling was mutual. “Have you met Warder Bhutra? Dena, this is Crystal and Violet Reilly.”

A small Indian woman with a thick grey plait even longer than Sona’s smiled and said hello. Her smile was more genuine than Dorian’s.

I smiled back, pleased to find that for once I wasn’t the shortest person in the room.

“May I see those, please?”

We gave her our collars, and she handed one to Emmet. She had thick black-rimmed glasses hanging on a chain around her neck. When she put them on her dark eyes blinked huge behind their lenses.

“Oh, dear,” she said after a moment.

“What?” I glanced at Emmet; he was frowning. “What’s the problem? Can you fix them?”

“No. Not fix them. Replace them, maybe.”

“Why? What’s happened?” Dorian sounded grumpy. Maybe he wasn’t a morning person.

“These collars didn’t
fail
. They were destroyed.”

“Destroyed? By whom?” Dorian shot me a suspicious look. Yeah, right, as if I’d destroy the damn thing myself, when it had been the only thing stopping me spraying frogs everywhere.

“I’d have to assume one of the High Sidhe,” Dena said. “How did this happen?”

So I told the whole story of our night at the formal again, just as I’d told it to Mum. Her eyes widened when I got to the part where we swapped frogs and diamonds—she obviously hadn’t realised that had happened too. By the time I’d finished she was shaking her head.

“So it could have been any one of two or three hundred people?” She looked at Dorian. “And I assume our Sidhe guest is still in residence?”

“Puck? Of course. So swamped in iron he wouldn’t even be able to touch his magic.”

“So there is at least one other out there with his shaping abilities, and we have no idea what shape they’re wearing now.”

“But there’s been no activity on the monitors,” said Dorian. “And I thought we plugged all the leaks?”