My lake shimmered gently in the photo’s background, along with the Carlsons’ in-process house. Soft, natural magic lifted from the water, and the remnants of my brother’s ash magic from the Carlson place.
The photo picked up subtle magicks that I often did not notice.
In the photo, I sat on the mat on my deck in my shorts, shirtless to maximize my skin’s exposure to the sun, looking up at the morning sky. Faint magic twisted around me in balanced, concentric circles as if I’d drawn the natural magic of my world into the residual elven magic I always seemed to carry.
Nothing looked out of place. Nothing about my world was out-of-whack.
Ellie, I thought. How I knew she’d taken the photo and not our interloper, I couldn’t say consciously, but my gut knew. So did my heart, and my soul. She’d caught me at a moment of peace.
She wanted me to see myself balanced.
And she was telling me I would be fine without her.
My breath hitched. “No, I will not,” I said. The photo didn’t show the concealment enchantments infecting her life and the lives of everyone in Alfheim. The same enchantments that kept that faint magic from becoming fully realized.
“I’m not giving up,” I said. I looked at the parking lot in case she was still nearby. “I’m not, Ellie!” I yelled. Then out into the trees. “I won’t!”
From the Raven’s Gaze side of the trees, I got my answer. Wonk wonk! one of the ravens yelled. Caw! the other answered.
The desire to punch the church returned. To do so would not help. I’d end up with a sore wrist along with my ripped-up heart.
And this time, I did curse the magic. I cursed and I stomped, and gripped the photo.
“Frank!” Bjorn yelled from the Raven’s Gaze side of the trees.
Another elf come to interrupt an Ellie moment. This time, though, I was thankful. “I’m not,” I muttered again.
Perhaps a distraction would allow me to parse what all this meant. Or perhaps not. I tucked the photo back into its sleeve, righted myself. What else was I to do? We had an interloper to hunt.
Chapter 8
By the time I got home the sun had dropped to just above the trees and cast a warm glow over my driveway. The road side of my house had sunk fully into shadow when I parked, but the motion sensors on the string lights between the house and Maura’s wine-bottle gate flickered on as I turned off my truck.
Fall crispness chilled the air. My breath formed an icy cloud as I walked around to the passenger side to retrieve the evening’s gatherings.
Raven’s Gaze had been a flurry of magical activity by the time I walked back over after finding Ellie’s photo. Bjorn had already called Arne and Dag, and was on the phone with Gerard when I entered. Security footage was pulled shortly thereafter, then Ed called.
I dropped Ellie’s photo into the satchel, settled the strap onto my shoulder, picked up the takeout and the new phone, and came home. Anyone who wanted my story could call tomorrow.
How was I supposed to respond to Ellie not wanting me to find a way inside her enchantments when she clearly wanted—needed—me to? I hadn’t yet lost today’s encounter to the memory pit of the concealments.
She said I miss you so much.
She missed me. She kissed me. But I’m not supposed to make sure she’s okay?
Sal humphed.
“What?” I asked. A steady stream of mild irritation had been washing off her since we left Raven’s Gaze.
I pulled her out of her pocket and set her on the seat next to the food and the phone while I placed the satchel’s strap over my shoulder.
The bag swung over her blade.
Sal shot me a stern please keep that away from me.
“Why?” I asked. They were both elf magic, and therefore compatible.
Compatible, yes, but the stasis enchantments interfered with her ability to watch the world.
“Noted.” I tucked my jacket over the satchel, swung Sal onto my opposite shoulder, and picked up the packages. “We’ll need to figure out where to store Rose’s notebook so the spells don’t give you a headache.” I walked toward the house.
She thanked me.
“You’re welcome, my friend—”
An angry Akeyla-made screech rose from the other side of the house, and a bright flare of fire magic shot into the air from my deck and crested the roof.
Something—or someone—had pissed off my niece.
I rounded the side of the house at the same time Maura slammed the screen door leading from the house to the deck.
“What’s wrong?” She moved to the kids before I set the packages on the table near the door.
Maura usually didn’t glamour at home, so her calm, ice-like magic flowed gently around her body. It reached down the deck, toward the kids.
Akeyla and Jax stood at the end of the deck by the lake, both more comfortably dressed than they had been for the wedding, scowling at each other. Jax crossed his arms and looked up at the moon. Akeyla pressed her fists into her hips.
“I’ll do my schoolwork the way I want!” she yelled.
Maura squatted so she’d be on the same level with the kids. “What are you two fighting about?”
Akeyla leaned toward Jax, but didn’t take her fists off her hips. “He says I need to stop doing my homework because Ms. Saunders said I can skip a grade and we need to finish high school at the same time or he won’t get a schol… scholar…”
“Scholarship,” Jax said. He still wouldn’t look at Akeyla.
“A scholarship to the University to play baseball and I’m his mate so it’s my job to make sure he can play and I have to run with him when he’s at away games no matter what so I can’t go to college first.”
Maura looked up at me as if to ask Did you
