Turning Tides (16 page)

“I figure it’s better to be safe than sorry. Plus, it was fun.”

Miriam and I did not have the same definition of fun.

I cast an eye over her naked body. She’d obviously been swimming through the canal in her other form. I chose to give her the benefit of the doubt that her presence at that moment was a coincidence, rather than the direct result of more otter spying.

“Did you just come from the houseboat? How’s Mac?”

“Irritable, but hanging in there. He only threw two plates and one coffee mug before settling down, so I think he’s coming around. He did start getting ill a few hours ago, which is normal. Well, the new normal. He’s stable, in his way.”

“Do me a favor? Simon should be heading over in the rowboat soon. Do you mind giving these to him, for Mac?” I pulled the books I’d grabbed from Grams’ library, dog-eared paperbacks by Agatha Christie and Dorothy L. Sayers that I knew he’d love. “He can tell Mac… just ask him to say they’re from me.”

“I’ll deliver the message myself, and I’ll tell him more than that. This isn’t your fault, and I won’t let that damn man act like it is.” Proclamation delivered, she strolled away, ass swaying with every step.

She was right. This wasn’t my fault, most of it. It didn’t matter. So long as I could help fix it, it was still my responsibility.

One way or another, things were going to change that day.

Chapter 16

My mother’s house was empty
, so I headed next door. Though it was early, most of the island was already gathered, not wanting to miss any part of this momentous day. They might not be certain what would happen, but they planned to tell stories about it for decades to come. Nervous excitement filled the rooms, my family and the visitors counting down the hours till the trial.

To my surprise, my aunts hadn’t started on the wine yet. I found them on the back porch, in swings and rocking chairs, watching the rain that had begun to fall on my walk over.

Music followed me through the back door, an old Patsy Cline song. Tina was the aunt who’d turned me onto country music, and normally few things made me happier than a cup of tea, a rainy day, and a bit of twang on the radio. I wished I was in any position to enjoy it now.

“Aidan!” called Marie. “We’ve scarcely seen you. Sit, sit.” She patted the open space next to her.

“Sorry, Marie. I’ve been busy. The whole best friend accused of murder thing, you know.”

“Is that still happening? Goodness. Perhaps they should just flip a coin. It would be simpler.”

Tina shook her head. Being the youngest, she was slightly less odd than the others. “That wouldn’t be right. They need evidence. Show us your evidence, Aidan.”

“That’s kind of the problem.”

Tina stared at me, confused. “But you’ve had three days. That’s enough time to scour this entire island. What are you still hoping to find?”

Georgina shrugged. “Perhaps there’s nothing to find, dear. Have you considered that the reason you’re unable to exonerate your friend is that she’s guilty? It really is the simplest explanation.”

Her words echoed David’s, and I wondered how many others shared their belief. “Simple isn’t always right, Georgie. Is my mother around?”

Marie nodded. “Upstairs.”

I thanked her and moved toward the door. “Aidan.” Georgina’s voice stopped me, the tone far too serious for my light-hearted aunt. “She’s barely recovered from the last decade. We both know she’s not the same woman she was before you disappeared. Whatever happens, you can’t do that again.”

There was nothing to say, no answer I could ever give that would satisfy my family. Ten years in elemental time might not be much—unless it was time spent in hiding, letting no one know whether I was alive or dead. Those ten years would always feel like a small eternity to my mother, I knew, and based on the three somber faces looking at me now, she hadn’t been the only one.

And yet, I couldn’t promise I wouldn’t disappear again, so I only nodded and stepped inside.

My mother was sitting on one of the guest beds, folding sheets. She always liked to organize when life became too complicated.

“Did you know that David is trying to leave with Lana?” I asked in a low voice.

She shook her head. “I wish he could. If I had my way, I’d put that Pond girl on a boat and send her to Alaska. The poor dear babbles so much, and I live in fear of what’s going to come out of her mouth next. But I can think of no way to remove them without inviting the council’s suspicion.”

“Too bad. I’m pretty sure they’re both innocent.”

“I’d be inclined to agree. Josiah informs me that neither of them accessed fire magic last night. Nor did anyone staying with your grandmother.”

“There’s got to be someone, though. We’re missing something.”

She shook her head. “Perhaps we’re looking at this all wrong, Aidan. It may not be a dual. They really aren’t especially common.”

That was an understatement. Despite decades of searching, Josiah knew of only three living dual magics besides me. There was Trent Pond, still locked away in the hospital in Eureka. The other two were mysteries. We only knew that one lived in the deserts of the southwest US, and the other lived on the Prince’s Islands in Istanbul.

I’d seen no evidence that a half-desert or a Turk were anywhere on the island at the moment.

“Well, a dual magic may not even be our biggest problem anymore.” I shared what I knew from the council’s files. As I spoke, two angry red splotches appeared.

“How dare they? They have no right. That drug would ruin you.”

“Why did you even tell them about it?”

She set the folded sheet to the side. “I informed the council of the problems we had with that shifter woman who sought to destroy elementals. I believed they needed to be aware of the growing shifter threat in Tahoe, and the discovery of the magic-nullifying drug was an integral part of the story. It was perhaps the wrong call.”

I groaned, thought of five different names I wished to call her, and bit them all back. She’d done exactly what she was supposed to do. She’d trusted the people whose job it was to protect elementals. It wasn’t her fault they were terrible at their job. “Only because the council are a bunch of insensitive morons. How do we get rid of this drug, once and for all?”

She shook her head. “It’s too late for that. It has gone too far, too fast. There’s no telling who has access to the formula now. You can’t keep this kind of lightning in a bottle, Aidan.”

Maybe not, but if the most powerful weapon one could use against an elemental was on this island, it needed to be in my possession.

Better to be the one to wield the lightning than the one to get struck.

This time, Grams’
house wasn’t empty. Through the ground floor window, I could see the council
in the library. The three female members sat on the armchairs and the soft green love seat, though they appeared far from relaxed. They gestured emphatically, using sharp, pointed movements, and their faces were animated with frustration and anger. Michael Bay showed little interest in joining the debate. Instead, he paced along the shelves, running his fingers absently along the spines. Seeing the casual movement set my teeth on edge. He shouldn’t be here at all, let alone staying long enough to get his cooties all over my family’s books.

They hadn’t come the the island just to dispense your regular, bog-standard elemental justice. They’d arrived with a plan already formed, a plan that would ruin my life faster than being a dual magic ever could.

I had a good idea where I needed to look. Rachel Strait’s room was the only one I hadn’t examined in detail. At the time, I’d been distracted by Simon, the discovery of the laptop, and the need to find the IP address.

This should teach me a valuable lesson about leaving a job half done.

I studied my grandmother’s house, looking for a way to lure the council outside so I could finish searching Rachel’s room. There was no fire alarm I could pull, no stink bomb I could lob into the library.

I circled to the kitchen door at the back of the house. The screen door opened with a high-pitched whine, and I grimaced.

“Aidan Brook! What are you doing here?”

I jumped, releasing an undignified squeak.

My grandmother stepped from behind the pantry door, and I did my best to only look a little bit shifty.

“Grams! I didn’t see you there.”

“Shh.” She sent an admonishing glare my way. “If they know you’re here, they’ll... well, I’ve no idea what they’ll do.”

I strained my ears toward the library. I couldn’t make out any individual words, but the angry tone was impossible to miss.

“What are they discussing?” I whispered.

She shook her head as she moved around the large kitchen, gathering items for tea service. “I’ve no idea. Every time I get within twenty feet of them, they clam up. They’re acting like I’m not even a member of this ridiculous council. I’m older than half those fools,” she huffed, spooning loose leaf tea into a strainer. “I understand why I was removed from your case, but they’re now saying I can’t be impartial about your friend’s situation, either. I have been completely cut out, and in my own house. It’s lunacy. Ill-mannered lunacy.” Her final words were directed toward the library, and though they were delivered in a quiet hiss, her indignant glare spoke volumes.

“Even Lydia? She seemed relatively sane and willing to listen to something other than her own voice.”

“Well, yes, she’s been the one exception. Quieter, as if there’s always something going on behind her eyes. Rather the opposite of her niece, in fact.”

I didn’t say anything, but I gave Grams a mental high-five for that one. Based on the sly smile that curved her lips, she knew it.

Grams opened the fridge, took out cheese and mayonnaise, and placed them on the kitchen island alongside bread and tomatoes. “I’m making you a sandwich. You’re too skinny.” My grandmother only looked about thirty years older than me and was every bit as thin, but I’ve learned not to protest when someone offers to make you food.

Besides, I was starving. I was running all over the island and only fueling myself through the ocean and canals. I could exist for weeks on just my element, with no food and sleep, but existing was a far cry from thriving.

“Grams, are you hiding in here?” I asked. “Tell me you haven’t been booted out of your own library.”

“Booted, no. Given a bunch of irritated looks that stated as clearly as words that I wasn’t welcome? Perhaps. So I said I’d make them tea. Which I will. Eventually. When I decide I don’t mind feeding a bunch of discourteous moochers.” Again, she lifted her chin to direct the last words to toward the library.

She slapped two fat slices of tomato onto the white bread and added no small amount of mayonnaise to the other side. She positioned the knife against the block of cheese, preparing to slice off a piece that could feed an army of mice for a month. “I’m wrapping this for you to take away. It really won’t do for them to find you here.”

I snagged a leftover piece of tomato, salted it, and popped it in my mouth. “I can’t. I need to look for something upstairs.”

She set down the knife and waited.

“I shouldn’t tell you what. Plausible deniability and all that.”

“Aidan Brook, I am nine hundred and thirty years old. Unlike some people I might know, I am capable of telling lies without the entire world knowing. Now, spill.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Then it’s a good thing you got your smarts from me, isn’t it? I’m fairly certain I can wrap my brain around whatever information you’ve managed to uncover.”

Hey, she asked for it.

“Okay, but you’re not going to like this. And don’t ask me how I learned any of it. There’s a drug that interferes with magic. I knew the man who created it. He used it on me once, and I’ve seen its effects on others. The council discovered its existence when my mother freaking told them about it, so maybe you’re right about where I got my brains. Don’t tell her I said that, please. The council was planning on injecting me with the drug as part of my punishment. I think it’s in Rachel’s room, and I need to find it, either to show everyone what the council has become or to destroy it. I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. Actually, I just found out about the drug and rushed over here. That’s pretty much the entire plan so far.” I took a big bite of the sandwich, mainly to shut myself up.

Grams listened to the entire story without appearing to blink, let alone move. When I finished, she said nothing.

Instead, she carried the knife to the sink and opened a drawer next to the fridge. It looked like it held rows of spices. She moved several glass bottles out of the way and held up a few more, inspecting the contents. At last, she placed a small blue bottle with a dropper lid on the kitchen counter. It was half filled with a dark liquid.

“Grams! You have it? How? Why?”

“Of course I don’t. I’ve never heard of such a terrible thing, let alone kept a vial of it. But you need to search the upstairs without witnesses, and I can hardly lock the library door, or tell everyone to stand outside for the next thirty minutes because it’s such a pretty rainstorm.” She shook the bottle, then deposited ten fat, dark drops in the teapot. “Fortunately, this isn’t the first time I needed a break from an unwanted guest. Someday, ask me about the wretched Martha’s Vineyard branch of our family tree.”

“You’re going to drug them?” I was both horrified and impressed.

“Oh no. That sounds so dramatic. I’m merely giving them a respite from wakefulness.”

Grams plucked the kettle from the stove and poured water over the tea leaves, humming the entire time. I supposed it was good to know I couldn’t ascribe all my crazy being a dual magic. Some of it appeared to be good old-fashioned genetics.

When the tea had steeped just the right amount of time to disguise an illicit sleeping potion, she carried the tray into the pantry with a cheerful “Be sure to finish the sandwich, dear,” thrown over her shoulder.

I stared at the pantry door for a full minute, waiting for her to reappear. When she didn’t, I peered inside. The pantry held dry goods, potatoes, and a basket full of spare batteries, but no Grams.

If someone in the family knew how to teleport and forgot to tell me, I was going to be seriously pissed.

I ran my fingers along the wall, looking for the seam of a door. I found nothing until I hit the back wall. Behind several stacks of clean dishcloths, there was a small latch, about the size one might find on a cabinet door. I pressed it and watched in awe as the wall fell backwards, revealing a dark hall.

It wasn’t pitch black, though. Small holes and vents were cut into the walls, allowing in light from the other rooms. Vision was still limited, but it was enough to see a few feet ahead. With my right hand against the wall to guide me, I followed the hallway until I hit a dead end.

This time, I knew what I was looking for. I felt for the latch and released it, catching the wall as it swung backwards. No, not a wall. A bookcase.

I emerged into my Grams’ study, a classically decorated office just across the hall from the library.

On the one hand, it was a stressful day filled with all kinds of deadlines I wasn’t certain I could meet. On the other hand, I’d just discovered a secret passageway in Grams’ house, complete with a false bookshelf. That almost evened things out.

I could hear the council talking, though their voices were civil now that Grams was in the room. As much as I wanted to confirm they were drinking the tea, the risk of being spotted was too great. Reluctantly, I withdrew, walking back along the corridor and emerging in the kitchen a minute later.