Wicked As You Wish (A Hundred Names for Magic #1) - Rin Chupeco Page 0,37

get away with.

From their perch atop the high wall, Loki admired the impressive motion sensors strategically placed around the perfectly manicured lawn. Despite Invierno’s natural magical dampeners, the spelltech equipment resembled giant bowls of fluctuating energy, brilliantly bright in their vision, though invisible to everyone else. It must have taken an enormous amount of money to pay for the number of glyphs required to power this kind of surveillance.

The motion sensor spells were threaded throughout the back lawn like a giant cobweb, an obstacle course practically daring them to complete it.

Loki could never turn down a challenge.

Their fingers felt inside a pocket, fished out a small vial that they soon uncorked. A fine mist rose out from it, covering the lawn within seconds and, most importantly, shielding them from the cameras’ view. Half a minute later, it was as thick as split pea soup. Any normal person wouldn’t be able to see a few feet in front of them, in any direction.

Loki didn’t need to. They reached behind their ear, found the small toothpick they’d stashed there, and placed it firmly between their teeth.

Then they leaped.

Their feet made no sound when they landed, when they cartwheeled through the first set of sensors, slipping easily past the spaces between the threads. They scrambled partway up a tree and backflipped over a denser cluster, and then eased their way through the last remaining yards, sliding into the open garden patio just as the mist began to dissipate, leaving the garden as pristine as they had left it, their presence undetected.

West’s particular skill set meant he had an easier time of it than Loki. Having already shifted back into human form, he was waiting for them just outside the sliding glass that divided the back porch from the inside of the residence, half-hidden by some well-trimmed bushes.

Loki reached into their backpack and tossed a pair of pants his way. The boy opened his mouth to argue.

Loki stopped him with a shirt to the face. “Zoe made it very clear you can’t go in naked, West.”

He pouted but shimmied into his clothes all the same.

A rock song blared through several loudspeakers, threatening deafness. The town might not be predisposed toward magic, but the people inside were using enough spelltech for Loki to use the discharges as a kind of echolocation. Spells molded around the auras of teens passed out on couches and chairs, or those dancing to the music. They were counting on both the dim lighting and the partygoers’ poor life choices to proceed unnoticed.

West’s insistence on wearing his carpet of fur had been met with puzzled glances, but most people were too buzzed to say anything. For the better part of fifteen minutes they drifted from room to room; West would glance in and take in a quick noseful of booze and cigarette smoke, only to sadly shake his head. Loki kept an eye out for any disruptions in the air that might signal more shades. His Highness was proving to be difficult to find, but impatience now would get them nowhere.

Loki didn’t like crashing parties. Their idea of a good time was climbing a tree. West had more experience attending these sort of social functions, but the nobles who fell over each other inviting him and his family to events were willing to overlook his personal idiosyncrasies for the Eddings’ status. And as the night wore on and it became clear that Alexei Tsarevich was nowhere on the premises, Loki was all for leaving—after they’d searched the second floor, because they were nothing if not thorough.

There were even fewer people on the upper landing, all more inclined to be making out than dancing or drinking. There were far more rooms than Loki thought a house should have. “Anything?” they asked, speaking around the toothpick still clamped in their mouth.

“Not really.” West had his hands over his nose, already looking hungover. “Everyone stinks. Why do they like poisoning themselves this way?”

“They’re rich buttholes, West. Comes with the territory. If Alex isn’t here, we’ll still need to keep an eye out for the rabbit hole and hope we don’t have to dig up their garden to find it.”

“The phones aren’t working!” they heard one of the girls cry out, frustrated, as she jabbed at one of the keys with a bright pink nail.

“What’s a phone?” West asked.

Loki didn’t bother to answer. Their attention was elsewhere—specifically at a lone shadow that was steadily climbing up one of the walls, manifesting enough dark magic to