sensation ran up my arms. While faerie magic felt like a heady adrenaline rush and mage magic felt like a force of nature, witch magic generally seemed calm by comparison. The tingling wasn’t unpleasant, more like a healing spell. Goose bumps rose on my arms. My head snapped up as Isabel gasped aloud.
“What?” My voice sounded strange. Instead of answering, Isabel crossed the room and went into her bedroom. She reappeared seconds later holding a small mirror. My heart began to beat faster, my arms dropping to my sides.
Isabel held the mirror up. For a second, it was like looking at a portrait or an illustration. The woman staring at me was me, but… altered. My face was more pointed, the cheekbones more pronounced. My eyes glittered, green as emeralds, and my brown hair had darkened to black, twisting into curls I’d never have achieved on my own. I was taller, too, and somehow even my tattered jeans and T-shirt looked good on me. Possibly because I was glowing. A blue-green halo surrounded my entire body, like I’d walked through a glittery waterfall. I winked, and the stranger in the mirror winked back.
Damn. I stumbled, tripping over the edge of the circle, and Isabel lifted the mirror, staring at me.
“Oh my god.”
“Bad faerie!” screamed a voice. Erwin, our resident piskie, flew shrieking through the room, colliding with the far wall.
“It’s only me,” I said, but the piskie screamed again and flew up, this time hitting the ceiling. “Pull yourself together.”
Shit. Even my voice sounded different. Like I was singing. Ugh. I turned to Isabel. “I hate this.”
“It’s only for a couple of hours, right?” She moved to start tidying the floor, like she was trying not to stare.
“Assuming I don’t give the game away.” I hesitated. “Damn. It doesn’t even matter if they see my magic. They’ll think I’m one of them.”
Hands at my sides, I walked to the bathroom to get a closer look in the large mirror over the sink. I really did look like one of them, down to the pointy ears. Hesitantly, I raised my hands to touch them, and even the self-conscious movement somehow looked regal.
Assholes.
I smirked, putting on the expression of complete and total confidence all pure faeries seemed to wear. The lords, at least. I looked like a sneering elven knight. Yeuch. I kind of wanted to punch the faerie woman in the mirror on the nose, but even as a faerie, that’d look stupid.
I turned my back instead, suddenly glad the Mage Lord wasn’t accompanying me this time. It’d be less conspicuous for me to get into half-faerie territory alone, and besides, he was stuck in meetings with the other mages, trying to get information about the murder. I still thought he should have left the killer alive, at least until they could properly question him.
What would he say if he saw me now? I didn’t like to imagine. Not that he wouldn’t like how I looked as a stupidly attractive half-faerie—that was the problem. Because she wasn’t me. I shouldn’t even care, anyway.
Back in the living room, I found Isabel had managed to calm Erwin down. The piskie sat on the kitchen work surface, glaring at me with beady eyes.
“It’s temporary,” I said. “I’m doing some sneaking around—”
The doorbell rang. I hung behind, alarm ringing through me. Shit. Please don’t let it be Larsen. Or the landlord. I didn’t want either of them to see what we were up to. The landlord would kick me out, while Larsen would know we were messing with something illegal. Even if we did have the Mage Lord’s permission.
Isabel peered through the keyhole. “It’s Henry.”
I breathed out when Henry Cavanaugh came into the flat, followed by four-year-old George.
“What are you doing?” asked Henry, eyeing the spell circles all over the floor.
“Er. Working on a case.”
“Fancy dress?” asked George. “You look different, Ivy.”
“It’s a spell,” I said. “I’m investigating on half-faerie
“What?” My voice sounded strange. Instead of answering, Isabel crossed the room and went into her bedroom. She reappeared seconds later holding a small mirror. My heart began to beat faster, my arms dropping to my sides.
Isabel held the mirror up. For a second, it was like looking at a portrait or an illustration. The woman staring at me was me, but… altered. My face was more pointed, the cheekbones more pronounced. My eyes glittered, green as emeralds, and my brown hair had darkened to black, twisting into curls I’d never have achieved on my own. I was taller, too, and somehow even my tattered jeans and T-shirt looked good on me. Possibly because I was glowing. A blue-green halo surrounded my entire body, like I’d walked through a glittery waterfall. I winked, and the stranger in the mirror winked back.
Damn. I stumbled, tripping over the edge of the circle, and Isabel lifted the mirror, staring at me.
“Oh my god.”
“Bad faerie!” screamed a voice. Erwin, our resident piskie, flew shrieking through the room, colliding with the far wall.
“It’s only me,” I said, but the piskie screamed again and flew up, this time hitting the ceiling. “Pull yourself together.”
Shit. Even my voice sounded different. Like I was singing. Ugh. I turned to Isabel. “I hate this.”
“It’s only for a couple of hours, right?” She moved to start tidying the floor, like she was trying not to stare.
“Assuming I don’t give the game away.” I hesitated. “Damn. It doesn’t even matter if they see my magic. They’ll think I’m one of them.”
Hands at my sides, I walked to the bathroom to get a closer look in the large mirror over the sink. I really did look like one of them, down to the pointy ears. Hesitantly, I raised my hands to touch them, and even the self-conscious movement somehow looked regal.
Assholes.
I smirked, putting on the expression of complete and total confidence all pure faeries seemed to wear. The lords, at least. I looked like a sneering elven knight. Yeuch. I kind of wanted to punch the faerie woman in the mirror on the nose, but even as a faerie, that’d look stupid.
I turned my back instead, suddenly glad the Mage Lord wasn’t accompanying me this time. It’d be less conspicuous for me to get into half-faerie territory alone, and besides, he was stuck in meetings with the other mages, trying to get information about the murder. I still thought he should have left the killer alive, at least until they could properly question him.
What would he say if he saw me now? I didn’t like to imagine. Not that he wouldn’t like how I looked as a stupidly attractive half-faerie—that was the problem. Because she wasn’t me. I shouldn’t even care, anyway.
Back in the living room, I found Isabel had managed to calm Erwin down. The piskie sat on the kitchen work surface, glaring at me with beady eyes.
“It’s temporary,” I said. “I’m doing some sneaking around—”
The doorbell rang. I hung behind, alarm ringing through me. Shit. Please don’t let it be Larsen. Or the landlord. I didn’t want either of them to see what we were up to. The landlord would kick me out, while Larsen would know we were messing with something illegal. Even if we did have the Mage Lord’s permission.
Isabel peered through the keyhole. “It’s Henry.”
I breathed out when Henry Cavanaugh came into the flat, followed by four-year-old George.
“What are you doing?” asked Henry, eyeing the spell circles all over the floor.
“Er. Working on a case.”
“Fancy dress?” asked George. “You look different, Ivy.”
“It’s a spell,” I said. “I’m investigating on half-faerie
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