The Thing About Weres

swallowed. When she pleaded for his help to hide her son’s birthright, he went into his den and came out months later with the spell for sun potion.”

I’ll bet good money that my brother doesn’t know that the edge of the Old Mage’s sleeve is more frayed on his right wrist than his left.

“To the Royal Court, a wolf amounts to a subspecies,” he continued, oblivious. “But with just one measure of this stuff, taken before a full moon, a Were can ignore the call of the moon. He doesn’t have to transform into his wolf … and his secret can remain a secret.”

“But a Were needs to release his wolf.”

“Not true. In my world—” He caught himself and rephrased it. “Today in Merenwyn, few Weres answer the moon’s call.”

Lexi’s mouth turned down as he stared at the flask in his hand. “Lukynae was the first to be offered the choice to hide his wolf. He could have continued taking his sun potion before every full moon, and no one would have known who or what he was.”

“But Lukynae chose to release his wolf.”

“Even ten years among the Raha’ells was enough to leave its imprint. When Lukynae grew up, he stole the spell and left the Court, and suddenly, the Fae could no longer count on trapping wolves during full moons. And worse, tribes that had previously acted as separate packs began functioning as one rebel group led by a man called Lukynae.”

Lexi lifted a shoulder. “Eventually the Royal Court discovered the Old Mage’s treason. They appropriated his spell for sun potion—which created a new class of servants—and sentenced him to the Sleep before Death.”

“Servants? You’re confusing me. I got the impression that the Raha’ells lived in the hills.”

“You know that after the war between the Fae and the wolves of Merenwyn, a treaty was signed.”

“Yes, the Treaty of Brelland. All but one pack of wolves signed it and accepted exile to this realm. Which confuses the hell out of me because you keep talking about three packs.”

“The Kuskadors chose to remain and submit to subjugation to the Fae rather than accept exile. They were tied too closely to their farms to leave.”

“Then what is this about the Raha’ells—”

“Most of them were captured and exiled with Lukynae. But some escaped before the net fell and took to the hills. They’ve bred over time. There are not a lot of them, but there are enough to be a nuisance.” A bitter smile narrowed his mouth. “They’re rebels, and they must be hunted to the ground.”

He lifted the flask, his gaze on Anu. “She was raised as a Kuskador house servant.”

“You drink a lot of that stuff.”

“No more than I need.” My brother’s body tensed up, anticipation poised for the moment, then he tilted back his head and swallowed. A pause to savor it. “Anyhow, the old man hasn’t got much longer. I’ve seen his body.” Lexi’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, then he continued, his voice dreamy. “They keep what’s left of the Old Mage in a special room in one of the older wings of the castle. His bed is high on a dais, and the bedding’s made from the finest silk.” A ghost of frown. “He’s got long white hair and his eyes are half open—that gave me a scare when I entered the room. The old man’s in some sort of coma. If he was aware of me, he didn’t show it. I waved my hand in front of his face and he didn’t even blink.” Lexi absently rubbed his jaw, using the backs of his fingers. One long stroke, then another.

Lexi had found his own way to self-soothe.

He looked at me with drugged dismay. “I wouldn’t want to live like that. Neither alive nor dead. He’s lost most of his toes and fingers. They look like they’ve been chewed on by rats.”

I pushed the bread around the bottom of my plate, sopping up the syrup, while thinking about wind-nibbled trees in Threall.

My brother wiped his mouth. “It’s made my job easier.”

“How?”

“Before he went to his sleep, the Old Mage put protection spells on every page of his spell book.”

Yes, and he forced a young mystwalker to serve his life sentence with him.

“Those wards make tinkering with his incantations dangerous and reading them next to impossible,” said Lexi. “And it’s made me practically indispensable to the Black Mage. I’m custom-made for his needs—the thief who can see magic.” He flexed his hand, a self-mocking expression twisting his features. “The Old Mage is on his last legs. And once he’s gone, all the wards he placed on the book will crumble.” Lexi rubbed his chest, smiling with eyes that suddenly looked content and slumberous. “It must have pleased the Old Mage to imagine his spells blowing up in his assistant’s face—I heard that they didn’t get along. Too bad he couldn’t live forever.”

“But you’re working on the book,” I said slowly.

Lexi’s head bobbed languidly. Crap, he’s wasted.

“I can see the lock right on the page—as if the magic were layered over it like a gossamer veil,” he said slowly, pride swelling in his voice. “All I have to do is figure out how to lift it free. I study the edges, figure how thick it is, and then I steal it. My talent gives the Black Mage total access to whatever is on the page. With me by his side, he looked powerful.” An ugly smile. “But now, his true colors will show.”

Helzekiel’s ambition and greed?

Lexi’s gaze was heavy-lidded, his eyes glazed. It bothered me to see him like that. Yeah, he’d just come home. He had a right to celebrate in his own way. But I didn’t like it. Even if part of me wondered if being tanked on sun potion was any worse than some of the local boys getting together for a case of Creemore Springs beer.

My twin slumped a little lower into his chair.

I pretended to be preoccupied with sopping up every drizzle of syrup while my mind spun around the answer to that puzzler. Casually, I asked, “You feeling better now?”

“The buzz doesn’t last anymore.” Lexi frowned at the moon, then reached for the cord to the blinds. “Not like it used to, anyhow.”

“There are no other amulets over in Merenwyn that will open a portal, right? Right, Lexi?” I watched him fumble with the sides of the carefully pressed curtains. “Stop tugging them like that. All you have to do is unhook the tieback.”

Lexi gave up on the curtains and threw back his head in a huge yawn.

“Only one that I know of and it’s held in the Royal Vault. The Queen’s crown jewels have less protection,” he said. “My mage’s going to be shit out of luck because his spell-catcher has flown away, and the Old Mage’s Book of Spells is going to crumble to dust before he reasons out how to break the wards on the page he wants.”

Don’t call him your mage.

My brother’s eyes drooped to half-mast, but still, I knew his gaze was fixed on my hands, as I carefully cleaned off Merry with a napkin. A thought came to me, and I froze.

“Lexi,” I said. “What page?”

“Huh?”

“You said the page he wants—is there a page about amulets?”

He favored me with a slow smile. “Amulets, and portals, and everything else.”

“The Safe Passage, too?”

“You ask a lot of questions, runt,” he said, studying the ferret.

What would happen if the Black Mage were able to lift those wards? Would he come here? Would he—“Lexi, there’s no way he could lift the ward off the page without you?”

“He’d be risking destroying it.” He flipped his hair back over his shoulder with a languor that set my teeth on edge and then stretched his arms along the back of the seat. “The Black Mage’s time is coming. No matter what he thinks. I don’t care how many mystwalkers he discovers.”

He leaned his head back. Two minutes from passing out.

“He’s training mystwalkers?” I asked casually as Merry shifted inside my blouse.

A slow nod. “He’s always so optimistic when he finds one…”

“How many are there in Merenwyn?” When he didn’t answer, I kicked him and yelled, “Lexi!”

He stirred and favored me with a heavy frown. “Stop shouting.”

I repeated my question.

“They’re all dead except for the one he’s training now. And that never goes well.” He yawned. “It makes him