Dreamwalker (Stormwalker #5) - Allyson James Page 0,74
the mirror would be safe from thieves near it was a good one.
“Do you truly believe Flora can fix it?” I leaned my elbows on the counter, already tired though I’d not been awake long. “When I contacted my mage friend in Oklahoma, she said it would take magics far more powerful than hers to put it back together. And she’s pretty good. I didn’t sense that kind of ability from Flora.”
“Earth magic is tricky.” Cassandra’s embarrassment faded as she explained. “Its magic rooted in bedrock, in mountains. Slow but so very strong. Look how strong Mick is, or your storm power, or your grandmother. Pamela … Changers also have earth magic. I’m fire and air, which is different. My magic is faster, and possibly more destructive initially, but try arguing with a mountain.” She gave me a wry look, as though she found arguing with Pamela a futile effort.
“I get that.” Both Mick and my grandmother could be rock-stubborn. “But a mage gifted enough to fix the mirror might try to take it from us. This is why I haven’t scoured the world for someone to repair it.”
“Which is why I think Flora is perfect,” Cassandra said. “She has no interest in talismans she can’t handle. She likes reading tarot and palms and casting simple spells. I doubt she’ll be in the running for Ununculous soon.”
I hadn’t felt an evil vibe from Flora, it was true, but powerful mages were good at hiding themselves. “I’m fine with her trying, but I’d like Mick there, and you and Pamela, in case she does turn out to be evil incarnate.”
“Very wise.” Cassandra gave me a nod. “Shall I schedule it for tomorrow morning?”
“Sure,” I said, and she typed it into her scheduling software. Ten a.m., Magic Mirror Repair.
I bade her a good night and turned away.
Pamela was coming down the stairs as I crossed the lobby again. She fixed me with a gray, wolflike gaze. “You have her working too hard.”
I looked right back at her. “Sweetie, if you can convince Cassandra to shut down her computer and go to bed, you have my blessing.”
Pamela studied me narrowly. She was Native American, with a finely shaped, oval face and brown eyes that changed to gray with her wolf. We’d met when she’d burst in here one day and attacked me. I had no doubt about her strength.
“Hmm,” she said, her gaze softening. “Good night, then.”
I left them to it.
***
I returned to bed well after midnight. When Mick looked in on me, I patted the mattress beside me, but he only leaned down and kissed my forehead.
“I found Drake,” he announced. “I’m off to talk to him.”
“It’s the middle of the night.” I knew it was unnecessary for me to point this out—it was pitch black outside. “Go tomorrow. Or wait and let me come with you. I want to hear what he has to say.”
I struggled to sit up only to find a firm hand pinning me down. “You are exhausted.” As soon as Mick said the words, my eyelids drooped. He touched my cheek. “Sleep, Janet.”
I found myself falling back into the pillows. Damned dragon and his healing magic.
My sleep was refreshing, as Mick meant it to be. I did dream, but this was a familiar dream, with a comforting haziness rather than sharp reality.
I seemed to be out in the desert under the spread of stars, my clothes gone but my skin perfectly warm. Constellations twinkled above me—Cassiopeia and Perseus, the bears large and small, the North Star.
A coyote came out of a wash, and I folded my arms and waited for him.
“Well?” I asked when he sat down by my side and didn’t speak. “I’m naked and dreaming. What kind of cryptic god shit are you going to tell me this time?”
Ah, Janet, you are so cynical. The huge coyote wrinkled his nose. Maybe I just like visiting you.
“Spit it out. I have sleep to catch up on.” I used impatience to hide my nervousness. Coyote’s little dream chats usually meant I’d have to face something terrible.
All right, all right. Coyote heaved a sigh, his furry sides moving. The all powerful can be the most vulnerable, but compassion is the strongest gift of all. In the end, you’ll have to choose, and make the choice for others. His voice grew quieter, more serious. Be careful how you choose, Janet. Cruelty is so easy.
I stared. “What does all that mean? Can you be any more vague?”