The Problem With Black Magic (19 page)

When Cassie woke up, she was lying down in the backseat of a car. When she sat up, rubbing her head, she realized the spacious area probably belonged to a limo. Her two cream-adorned assailants were sitting across from her, looking so calm one would never guess they had just drugged and kidnapped someone. To her irritation, they did nothing but smile their mild smiles when she glared at them. There was definitely something off about these two.

Looking around, she noted it was still dark outside, but she had no idea how long she’d been asleep; it could be the next night for all she knew. There was a laptop computer sitting open between her two kidnappers, but beyond that, the interior was bare.

Still, she felt that there was something important she was forgetting. Squinting, she realized there
was something missing: that vague buzzing between her shoulder blades that she’d grown so accustomed to over the past few weeks. Looking down, she saw that in addition to the amulet Sam had made for her was another pendant: a cross, filled with blue topaz, opal chips and diamond studs. If anything, it was even more beautiful than her protection amulet, but she was pretty sure it was the reason she had lost her sense of magic.

Still, shouldn’t my protection amulet have triggered?
She picked up the pink amulet and frowned at the pale blue spot in the middle. Had her own magic corrupted the spell, rendering it useless, much faster than Serenus had anticipated?

“Don’t blame your amulet, it wasn’t defective,” an accented voice said. “In fact, it was quite a challenge to work around it.”

Cassie looked up to see a familiar face on the laptop screen between the two women. Her eyes widened, then she cursed herself for her own stupidity.

“So when you said no one had “the stones” to kidnap me now, that was just your way of patting yourself on the back, huh?” she asked.

“That wasn’t my intention,” said Cordley. The picture on the video was pretty clear, but Cassie couldn’t tell where he was; her best guess was that he was in another car. “And I’m sorry I can’t be with you; I wanted to explain this in person, but the logistics of your kidnapping made it impossible. There was a very narrow window of opportunity for the ladies to get you into the limo and speed off before your master got suspicious. I couldn’t afford to slow them down by making the car wait for me.”

“Oh no problem, I completely understand,” said Cassie sarcastically. She fondled her amulet, annoyed when it still gave off that comforting buzz of power. If it was still working, then why hadn’t it gone off when she needed it?

“Would you like to know how we got around that protection spell?” asked Cordley. “There’s a reason I’m asking; I think it would be instructive for you to know.”

Cassie shrugged. “I’m kind of a
captive audience, so gloat away. Knock yourself out.”

“It’s not gloating,” said
Cordley, the frustration in his voice surprising her. “Cassie, do you remember what your master told you about the amulet? How it works?”

She knitted her brows; it seemed like a long time ago now. “If anyone comes after me with ill intent, they’ll be in pain if they try to touch me…or so he said.”

“Celeste, Lindsey: tell her why you’re helping me bring Cassie back to London.”

“So she may know the fulfillment of serving at the pleasure of the Eastern Court,” they said in unison.

At first Cassie just stared at them, not comprehending. Then, her mouth dropped open as her own words sank in:
ill intent
. These women were completely brainwashed: the amulet couldn’t trigger because as far as they were concerned, they bore her no ill will. They honestly thought that kidnapping her and taking her back to their court was in her best interests.

She banged her fist on the seat, “Dammit, why is black magic so
freakin’ useless all the time!?”

“And now, you see our dilemma,
why we need white magic so badly. Why it’s worth doing such dishonorable things-- like shoving teenaged girls into cars in the middle of the night-- to get it.”

Cassie tilted her head, considering the image of
Cordley on the screen. When he revealed himself as the mastermind behind her kidnapping, she’d expected his classy act to disintegrate, but she was beginning to think it wasn’t an act; they might be enemies, but he did consider himself an honorable man.

“So what are you saying? You’re
sorry
you kidnapped me?”

He shook his head. “No, but I do hope you can understand why I had to
--if not now, then someday. Black magic is great for blowing people up Cassie, and not much else. It’s so potent, you have to use a bunch of safeguards-- like your master’s ill-intent clause-- just to keep it from killing everyone in the room. With safeguards come loopholes, and with loopholes….”

“Even really powerful spells can be outsmarted,” Cassie finished, looking down at her amulet. She picked up the new one-
- the one the woman, Celeste, had put around her neck-- and noticed she didn’t feel the buzz of power in her palm that she was used to. Somehow though, she knew it was there; she was pretty sure she couldn’t take the thing off if she wanted to.

“That amulet, however,” said
Cordley, pointing; his obvious love of explaining things reminded her of Serenus. “That amulet is made purely with white spells. One to put you into a painless sleep when you were first taken, one to sever your psychic connection with your master so he can’t find you, and one to stop you from taking it off. No strings, no loopholes.”

Cassie dropped it; she was mad at herself for even thinking it was pretty. “So if you’ve got a witch who can make something this cool, what do you need me for?” she asked, then remembered something
Serenus had told her; something about this didn’t add up. “Besides, why would you be stealing me for the Eastern Court? I thought you guys had lots more witches than the Western Court.”

“That’s a misconception we’ve worked very carefully to maintain,” he said. “Technic
ally it’s true, we do have more witches, but like your master would say, they’re ‘garden witches.’ Witches with your potential haven’t been common for thousands of years. The woman who crafted that amulet is one of a very select group.”

Cassie frowned; it always came back to that. For some reasons, witches were born with less power now than they were in the past, and that was why her awakening had driven the demons into such
a frenzy. Why a man like Cordley-- whom she was beginning to think had more respect for her and Sam than most of the Western Court-- was willing to risk everything to steal her away.

“Why is that, anyway?” she asked. “Do you know why witches are so much weaker now than they used to be?”

He shook his head sadly. “There are theories. Some think it’s a natural consequence of evolution; people don’t select for magic the way they do for brains, looks, and so on, because most don’t believe it exists. Some believe it’s random chance; some even think it’s a kind of divine punishment.”

“What do you think it is?” she asked, realizing to her surprise that she genuinely wanted to know his opinion.

He gave her a thin smile. “I stopped asking myself that a long time ago. All I know is, the white witches of yore could supposedly cure any illness, any ailment. And now, they can’t. But with your help, maybe that could change.”

Cassie swallowed as she felt as she felt the pieces of the Dr.
Cordley puzzle fall into place; he wasn’t saying it, but it was obvious he wanted a witch to cure someone who was sick. That’s why this man, who all her instincts were telling her was good, had worked long and hard to deceive the Western Court and snatch their most promising witch out from under their noses. Because even a good man would do that for someone they loved.

“Still, you could have asked me!” she said. “If you want someone healed, maybe after I’m actually trained, I could help; you didn’t need to kidnap me to make that happen,” she said.

“Did I?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You know a bit about what the court is like now. If they had the most powerful white witch in the world, do you think they would run around letting her heal sick little girls out of the goodness of their hearts?”

Cassie looked down. It was his daughter: it had to be. “No, they wouldn’t. They would charge for it. They would…use it to boss everyone else around,” she said. She respected that
Arrigio had a greater sense of fair play than most demons, but she didn’t doubt for a second that he would use her as a trump card when it suited him.

“Which is exactly what the Eastern Court is going to do, but unfortunately, I can’t do anything about that,” said
Cordley. When Cassie looked back at the screen, he was looking down at his hands.

Suddenly, Celeste piped up. “Master, we’re almost to Albany.”

Cassie’s eyes widened “Albany? You drove me all the way to Albany?”

If she didn’t know better, she would have sworn
Cordley looked embarrassed. “From there, you’re going to catch a private flight to Heathrow Airport; I assume your master’s people are canvassing JFK, Newark and La Guardia Airports now, looking for you, but no one expects anyone to go to Albany by choice.”

Cassie sighed and sat back in her chair. That was another thing she had to give
Cordley credit for; he was very logical.

***

Cassie actually slept fairly well on the flight to London. She hadn’t completely given up hope of escape, but she didn’t have the energy to try to pull
anything while Celeste and Lindsey were guarding her. She was sure Cordley had considered any obvious means of escape, and she didn’t feel mentally awake enough to come up with any non-obvious ones; apparently, the magically-induced sleep she’d had in the limo wasn’t very refreshing.

Periodically, she would wake up and inhale the smell of Sam’s jacket, which she was increasingly glad she had taken; somehow, the scent of him reassured her that she would find a way back.

When they reached London, after a brief wait, Cordley joined them, and he served Cassie, Celeste and Lindsey cookies and small cakes in the limo on the way to his home. Cassie briefly considered refusing to eat for about half a second, but it seemed incredibly pointless; besides, she couldn’t hate Cordley, and she didn’t see the point of trying. She didn’t forgive him for kidnapping her, but that wasn’t the same as hate.

In several respects, it would be easier if she could hate him. She wasn’t sure what would happen to him if she did manage to get away, but she was sure it wouldn’t be pretty; it would probably be a contest to see if the Western Court would kill him for betraying
them before the Eastern Court could kill him for failing to procure her successfully. It almost made her apprehensive about trying to get away, but then she thought of her family-- and even the crew at the Daily Grind, who were becoming more like a second family to her every day—and she wanted out. She might have sympathy for the man, but he’d brought this on himself.

Thinking of her parents brought tears to her eyes; the last thing she did was take off without telling them. If she couldn’t make this right, they would think she ran away. She dried her eyes and sniffed, telling herself she would find a way. To his credit,
Cordley didn’t ask her why she was crying, but did offer her a tissue.

As she had expected,
Cordley’s house was sumptuous without being ostentatious in the least. Located in a rural area an hour or two outside of London, the dark wood paneling, old-fashioned lamps and numerous plush couches appealed to Cassie’s aesthetics. If she had to be cooped up in a place against her will, at least it wasn’t hideous.

Celeste and Lindsey bid her a civil goodbye and disappeared down a dark hall; she assumed he had separate quarters for his servants. Or f
amiliars, or whatever they were. She didn’t think they had any magic, but she didn’t know if she could trust her senses with the white amulet around her neck.

Cordley
led her to a large bedroom done up in blond wood and soft pinks; obviously a girl’s room, there were dolls on the windowsill and series books on the bookshelf. She assumed it was his daughter’s bedroom.

“I’m staying here?” she asked, feeling awkward. This would normally be the part where someone would put down their suitcase, bu
t given that she’d been kidnapped, she had no belongings other than her clothes. Even Sam’s cellphone was gone from her pocket, but she would have been shocked if Celeste and Lindsey had missed that. That was probably rule one for kidnappings these days: secure all cellphones and mobile devices.

“Just temporarily,” said
Cordley. “They’re scheduling an emergency meeting of the court right now, and I assume they’ll have assigned a master for you by this time tomorrow. I hope this will be adequate, just for one day.”

“I see,” she said, running her hand over the cold surface of the computer desk. It was weird being treated like an honored guest when they both knew the truth.

“You must have jet lag; feel free to take a nap and I’ll send someone up with a meal in a few hours.”

Cassie shrugged. “Not tired; I slept for the whole plane ride.”

“Oh,” he said, looking somewhat uncomfortable for the first time. “Well, as you can see, there are books. If you can’t find anything to read, I’m sure we can make other arrangements-- movies, video games. That sort of thing.”