The Fairytale Curse (Magic's Return Book 1) (34 page)

The Morrigan’s chest heaved as if she’d just run a marathon. Our attack might have weakened her, but it wasn’t enough. Zac, CJ, and Sona clumped together on the steps, watching me anxiously, but the Morrigan paid them no attention. All her venom was focused on me.

“You thought you could defeat me?” she sneered. “You ridiculous child. I was working magic before your kind came down from the trees. You are less than nothing, little ape.”

She paced toward me. The air felt charged, like it does when a storm’s about to hit. Blue flames crackled through her hair. She took my chin in her hand and a jolt streaked from my jawbone to my feet. Up close, her face was no longer even remotely human, all trace of the glamorous Miss Moore gone. Red lights whirled in her eyes. My knees sagged so that only her hand held me up.

“The condensors were a good thought,” she said, as if praising a dog for a trick well-performed. “Clever ape. But you should have wished for bigger ones. Those toys might work on my ravens, but they aren’t strong enough for me.”

She let me go, and I stumbled back. My jaw ached as if I’d been punched.

“It’s a shame you’re not prettier,” she said. “I could use a thinker like you. A powerful latent, too. You might be quite strong if you ever reached your magic.”

I said nothing, and she laughed. “You thought you had, didn’t you? Silly girl. Did you like my raven? I spelled him into a piece of paper. It only took the slightest brush of the aether you carry to bring him to life. And you thought
you
had freed Puck.” She frowned. “But now I think you have no more need of all that aether. You or your sister.”

She waved her hand—the merest gesture—and I felt that shift inside that I’d felt the night the origami bird came to life. Which turned out to be
her
doing, not mine. The same kind of tugging I’d experienced at the Art Gallery just before Puck stole the cauldron. She must have been waiting for me, her little portable aether store, to provide the power to free the cauldron from whatever spells were concealing it.

And now she was accessing the aether inside me again, stealing it away. A strong smell of burnt toffee lingered on the air for a moment, and then faded, leaving me curiously empty. Something had been taken from me, but had it really been mine to start with? I knew it was too good to last.

With a crack, the collar I still wore burst into pieces and scattered at my feet. The nearest ravens took flight in alarm, then resettled, murmuring their annoyance. A glance across at the steps showed me the same thing had happened to CJ.

“So, you got what you wanted,” I said. Nothing fell from my lips when I spoke. The curse had dissipated along with the aether. I should have been happier about that. “Take the cauldron and go.”

“Oh, I don’t think it’s going to be quite that easy, little ape,” she said. “You see, I want the whole world. And I’m not going anywhere until I have it.”

Behind her, a figure carrying surveying equipment appeared around the side of the cathedral.

No, wait.

It was Gretel—and it wasn’t surveying equipment at all, but a giant condensor, like the one they’d threatened Puck with back in the vault. What the hell was Gretel doing here? She was a techie, not a seeker. How had she known where to find us, anyway?

At the back of the plaza behind me I heard ravens croaking and shifting, a great rustle of wings. The Morrigan, enjoying her triumph over me, took no notice.

I hoped it meant there were seekers out there setting up more condensors. Otherwise, we were screwed.

“But the cauldron is a good place to start,” said the Morrigan.

She turned and stalked toward it. Gretel was now in full view.
Come on, Gretel, now or never.

The Morrigan raised a hand to blast her with blue fire. But Gretel flicked the switch and the big machine roared into life.

I spun round as ravens lifted screaming into the air, and saw what I’d most hoped for: two more condensors forming a giant triangle with the plaza at its heart.

The air was a whirl of black bodies and beating wings. Feathers rained down like black confetti as I bent over, hands over my head, and ran to join the others on the steps. The Morrigan fought her way to the cauldron, leaning forward as if into a howling headwind. Above us, ravens spiralled like a great inverted tornado into the sky and disappeared into a rent many times greater than the one we’d made with our handheld condensors.

I struggled toward the cauldron too, though Gretel was screaming something at me. I couldn’t hear her over the howl of the wind and the cacophony of ravens. But I was too late. Before I could get close the Morrigan got her hand to it, with a cry of triumph that could be heard even over everything else.

But as she picked it up, the wind caught her too and tossed her into the sky in a streak of blue flame. She disappeared through the hole in creation with the last of her ravens, and the rent snapped closed with a boom that shook the plaza.

Black feathers wafted down as the roiling clouds shifted and the sun broke through. In a moment the sky was clear, as if none of it had ever happened.

We stared at each other in shock and relief.

“Oh my God, the frogs are gone!” CJ threw her arms around me. “Hallelujah!”

I hugged her back, my feelings a little more mixed than hers. Those few days when I’d thought I could do magic had been pretty special. At last, something I could do that she couldn’t. Was it wrong to feel a little sad that I was back to being ordinary old Vi again?

At least I didn’t have to wear that stupid collar any more. I grabbed Zac and Sona in a three-way hug. “Thanks, guys. You were great.”

Gretel ran over to us. “Is everyone okay? God, Vi, that was close. I thought you were going to get sucked away with them.”

I hugged her too. It was that kind of day.

“Gretel! You’re a star! You came just in the nick of time.”

Her face was a little pink, but she looked pleased with herself. She turned as the other two condensor operators joined us—Ronnie and Kerrie.

“Awesome job, ladies.” They high-fived each other.

“But where are the seekers?” I asked. “And how did you know where to find us?”

“Well, the big old cloud of doom hanging over the cathedral was a bit of a giveaway,” Kerrie said, laughing. She looked more alive than ever. I guess nuking a few Sidhe really perked a girl up.

“But before that I saw a huge concentration of aether forming here on the monitors,” Gretel said. “Everyone else had taken off for the Art Gallery, so I rounded up the girls and headed here.”

“Thank goodness you did.”

Three vans pulled up as we spoke. A warder leapt out of each one, followed by a team of seekers. Simon was in the lead, looking a little worse for wear.

“Too late, boys,” Gretel said. “Party’s over.” Then she turned to me. “What was that pot the Morrigan had?”

Oh, yeah. Some of my euphoria melted away.

“It was the Dagda’s cauldron.”

Her face paled. “Oh, shit. But … that’s supposed to be in Paris!”

“I know.” Yet here it was. Or rather, had been. Now it was in the Sidhe world, and God knew what that meant for the stability of the Gilded Cage. Nothing good, probably. The cauldron’s power was at the heart of one of the four anchors, after all. I gave a mental shrug. That was a problem for another day. “But it was either lose the cauldron or leave the Morrigan running loose. I know which option I prefer.”

She still looked shellshocked. “I just hope the warders feel the same way.”

She went to meet them, squaring her shoulders. I turned back to my friends with a sigh. Zac’s eyes were full of warmth. I felt my cheeks start to redden. Stupid blushes. Sona looked at the two of us with a knowing smile, but thankfully made no comment.

“Well, that was fun. Remind me not to go on any more school excursions with you,” he said.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. I should be the one saying sorry.” He shook his head. “I didn’t realise how big this magic thing was, or how … involved you were in it.”

There was a question in his eyes, but I didn’t feel ready to go into detail. “Yeah. It’s kind of a long story.”

“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.” He moved closer, and my heart, which had only just stopped trying to beat its way out of my chest, started racing again. “I’m sorry I was such a jerk.”

I shrugged, trying to pretend his nearness wasn’t affecting me. I don’t think he was fooled. “I’ll forgive you. On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

I leaned close and whispered in his ear. “Kiss me again.”

His arms circled me and I sagged against him in relief. It felt like coming home.

“You’ve got a deal,” he said.

 

THE END

 

 

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed
The Fairytale Curse
, please take a moment to leave a short review at Amazon.com. Your feedback helps other readers find the book, and I would be very grateful for your assistance in helping to spread the word.

 

Don’t miss the thrilling sequel,
The Cauldron’s Gift
, coming soon! For news on this, plus $0.99 deals and other book news, sign up for my newsletter.

 

Sign up
here
or by visiting my website,
www.marinafinlayson.com
.

ALSO BY MARINA FINLAYSON

THE PROVING TRILOGY

 

 

 

 

Moonborn
, a prequel novella to the trilogy

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I had a whole bunch of beta readers helping me on this one: first and foremost, my resident teenagers, Jen and Alana. Thank you, girls, for helping me bring Vi and CJ to life.

 

Thanks also to Michael Omer, Jen Rasmussen, Axel Blackwell, and Constance Whitley for their very helpful feedback.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Marina Finlayson is a reformed wedding organist who now writes fantasy. She is married and shares her Sydney home with three kids, a large collection of dragon statues and one very stupid dog with a death wish.

 

Her idea of heaven is lying in the bath with a cup of tea and a good book until she goes wrinkly.

Other books

Red on Red by Edward Conlon
The Eye of the Sheep by Sofie Laguna
Every Perfect Gift by Dorothy Love
The Dogs of Winter by Bobbie Pyron
The Scent of Murder by Felicity Young
Inside Out by John Ramsey Miller
El círculo mágico by Katherine Neville
Slowing Down by George Melly
Texas Homecoming by Leigh Greenwood
Mulligan Stew by Deb Stover