Beyond the Seer Read online

  I cleared my throat loudly, and she gave a slight jump before ripping off the casino manager’s telephone number and tucking it deep into her bosom. Her face now slightly flushed, she flipped the page and said, “Ah-ha! Here it is. The perfect job for ya. Don’t know why I didn’t think of this one from the start.”

  “What is it?” I asked with trepidation, wondering what other sorts of horrors lay within the pages of that file. “Because if I had a choice, I’d really like to work someplace where I could use my magic, maybe learn a little something…” I stopped talking when I realized she wasn’t listening to me; instead, she’d torn out a sheet of paper from a notepad she kept on her desk and had begun jotting down a business name and address that I couldn’t make out from where I was sitting.

  When she handed the address to me, I glanced at it, then stared at her in alarm. “The Magic Island Hospital? But I don’t know a thing about magical medicine. What if I accidentally kill someone?” Just what I needed, I thought—more dead bodies to appear on my watch. How many was I up to now? Four? Fifty? A thousand? Somewhere along the way, I’d lost count. I pushed the address back to her and shook my head. “Uh-uh. No way. You’ll just have to find me something else.”

  I crossed my arms stubbornly over my chest, and, ignoring me completely, she pushed the address back toward me. “Sorry, girlie, this is the only job I have that you’re qualified for. Besides,” she added with a wicked grin, “it doesn’t take a lick of magic to scrub out bedpans. Even someone as useless as you can manage that.”

  When I continued to protest, she shrugged and snatched the address away from me. “Suit yourself. I’ll just give the ogre mayor a call and let him know that we’ve finally found that janitor for their feeding hall.” Her hand drifted toward the telephone as her smug smile morphed into an unpleasant leer. “Did I mention that the ogres’ very favorite snack is braised witch toes?”

  Even though I was sure she was egging me on—surely the High Court didn’t allow ogres to snack on witches—my stomach lurched and I grabbed the hospital’s address back from her. “Fine,” I said with a sigh, tucking the piece of paper into my purse. “Bedpans it is.” Too bad I’d received poor marks on my level zero exams for the cleaning spell—but it looked like I’d be getting plenty of practice soon enough.

  When I arrived outside my dorm room a few minutes later, I heard the muffled sounds of swearing that could only be coming from Monty, the overly dramatic shrunken head who’d conned his way into living with me full-time after I’d rescued him from his position as a joke shop owner’s security head. Since then, he’d spent his days repaying my generosity by taunting my poor dimwitted familiar, stuffing his gullet with as much food as I was willing to supply him with, and generally making my life difficult.

  “What now?” I muttered to myself, fishing around in my pocket for my key. As I fumbled it into the lock, I banged on the door and shouted, “You better not have tricked Pierre into getting stuck under the bed again, Monty, or I swear I’m going to kick you out on your double chin faster than you can—”

  The door opened unexpectedly and I tumbled inside, catching myself with a hand on the frame. I didn’t even need to look around for the source of the commotion; a hideous odor blasted me squarely in the face, and I doubled over, retching. I yanked my shirt over my nose to ward off the stench, which worked well enough for me to take a cautious step into the room, where Monty was spinning around on his chain in a frenzy and Pierre had flattened himself under the bed, howling and trembling. There was also the little matter of what was on the floor—dozens of putrid, rotting fish, their scales falling off and their eyes bugging out of their head.

  “Who did this?” I choked out, doubling over once more. I grabbed a trashcan by the door and began heaving into it, wishing Lady Winthrop hadn’t made our training wands disappear—this would have been the perfect opportunity to work on my cleaning spell, especially in light of my new job.

  “The devil herself,” Monty howled, his bulging eyes watering profusely as he tried unsuccessfully to swing himself away from the fish, which were scattered beneath him. “Here I was, minding my own business while contemplating the mysteries of the universe and the location of my missing limbs, when the heavens themselves parted and rained down fish guts and hellfire.” He drew in a dramatic breath and immediately began gagging. “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”

  I frowned at him. “A woman scorned… what’s that supposed to mean?”

  Monty’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” He aimed a wicked grin at the doorway, and I swung around to find Sebastian standing there, his face pale and horrified.

  “Oh no, not again,” he groaned, tugging his wand from his waistband and arcing it through the air. Although the rotting fish immediately evaporated, down to the last scale, their stench lingered in the air. Pinching my nose, I hurried to the window across the room and threw it open, sticking my head out and breathing in great gulps of fresh ocean air.

  “Must be nice,” Monty said, watching me enviously when I finally reemerged. Feeling a sudden wave of sympathy for the head, I grabbed his chain and thrust him out the window, barely able to keep a grip on him as he swung around in ecstatic circles and began wolf-whistling at a fairy fluttering along the sidewalk below.

  “Come to Monty-poo,” he called down to her, baring his teeth in what he clearly thought was a winning smile but looked more like something out of a particularly horrific nightmare. “If you’re a good girl, I’ll let you tickle my chins with your wings.”

  The fairy looked around for the source of the noise and, finally spotting it, began screaming at the top of her lungs. “Was it something I said?” Monty asked, looking wounded as I yanked him back inside. “It’s been many centuries since I’ve been able to properly woo a woman. Perhaps I’ve lost my touch. Back in the bonny days of my youth, I only had to look at a pretty little petticoated thing before she dropped her—”

  “Please,” I begged, “whatever you’re going to say, spare me. I think I’ve already suffered enough for one day.” Then I turned back to Sebastian, who was spraying pineapple-scented air freshener out of his wand and deliberately avoiding my gaze.

  “Care to tell me what’s going on?” I asked, crossing the room toward him and laying a hand on his wrist, forcing him to lower his wand and look at me. “Why would someone target me like this? And what did Monty mean by, ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?’”

  Judging by what I knew of Sebastian’s past—the details were vague, but he’d earned quite the reputation as a love ’em and leave ’em type and had made enemies of what seemed like every eligible woman on the island—it didn’t take a genius to put all the pieces together. But I needed to hear the truth directly from his lips, especially if I was going to trust him with my own heart.

  He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot and ran his hand through his thick brown hair. “Well, you know that I’ve had a few”—he chewed his bottom lip nervously—“flings in the past.” He darted an anxious glance my way, as if this were shocking news.

  “Yeah,” I said, waving my hand impatiently. “With half the women on the island. I’m well aware, thanks.”

  “Right. Something like that.” He cleared his throat, and Monty let out a barely suppressed snort of laughter at Sebastian’s obvious discomfort. “Well, one of them, a woman named Remy, was slightly…” He paused again. “Unhinged.”

  Uh-oh. “In what way?” I asked, glancing toward my dorm room door, half-expecting her to pop right through it, wand blazing. Which brought up another very pertinent question…

  “What sort of creat—I mean, person, is she?” I needed to know what I was up against, after all. Did I need to worry about fangs, wands, talons, or some terrifying combination of all three?

  Another long pause. “A siren,” he finally said, staring at his feet.

  Oh great. So she was drop-dead gorgeous, and her voice made men want to hurl themselves off clif
fs. How was I supposed to compete with that?

  “If she’s a siren,” I said, frowning as I stared at the spot on the carpet previously occupied by her idea of a welcome-to-the-neighborhood present, “then how did she manage to make fish fall out of the sky and land right in the middle of my dorm room? Sirens don’t have magic, do they?”

  Sebastian suddenly became very interested in his fingernail. “Let’s just say she has a lot of friends,” he mumbled. “She’s very popular.”

  Even better. And why was Sebastian acting so strange at the mere mention of Remy’s name? Something smelled fishy in here… pun intended.

  I plopped down onto the bed and patted the mattress beside me, indicating that he join me. As Sebastian walked over, Pierre wiggled himself back out from under the bed and sniffed my empty hands before waddling over to the wet spot on the floor that previously housed the fish. As I tried to hold in another gag, he began slurping eagerly at the fish remnants with his fat pink tongue.

  When Sebastian sat down, I let my gaze roam over his face for a few moments. “Look,” I said, tracing my finger down the back of his hand, “I know a thing or two about bad relationships, so I can sympathize. As I’ve told you, I was with my previous boyfriend for eight years before finding out he had someone else on the side.”

  I took a deep breath; that betrayal may have been a world away—quite literally—but the memory of it still stung me to the core. “So I don’t want us to keep any secrets from each other,” I continued. “Tell me the truth about Remy—about your relationship, about what I’m up against.” I waved my hand toward the carpet, which Pierre was now trying to pull up with his teeth. “Should I be expecting any more surprise gifts?”

  Sebastian shook his head morosely. “I have no idea—I never do when it comes to Remy. She and I were quite… we were quite serious a few years ago.” When I gave him a questioning look, he added, in a clipped tone, as if the words caused him considerable effort, “Serious to the point of discussing marriage. But something didn’t feel right about it, you know? There was always a nagging feeling in my gut telling me to turn and run away, so I broke things off. And, well, let’s just say she didn’t take the news too well. Since then, every time I try to date someone—hell, sometimes even if I’m just talking to another woman and she gets wind of it, she makes a point of reminding me that she’s still around.” He gave a short, humorless laugh. “Like I said, unhinged.”

  I groaned. Just what I needed—another reason to be looking over my shoulder, something I found myself doing a lot these days thanks to my penchant for attracting murderers wherever I went. When I said as much to Sebastian, he shook his head adamantly.

  “She’s not going to hurt you, Wren—it’s me she’s after. And besides, she’s never tried to do anything to me physically. She’s more into the mental games. But I don’t care,” he added fiercely, wrapping his arm around my waist and tugging me closer to him. I rested my head on his shoulder, listening to the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. “There’s nothing in the world she could do to me that would make me give you up. What kind of fool does she think I am?”

  He pulled away from me and stared so hard into my eyes that I had to look away. “I’m in this for the long game, Wren. When you know, you know.” Gently, tenderly, as though I would break at the slightest touch, he pushed a strand of hair off my forehead before pressing a soft kiss to my skin.

  I leaned my head against his shoulder and let out a long, deep sigh.

  Chapter 4

  The Magic Island Hospital, a sterile white-brick building located right in the middle of town, was bustling with activity when I arrived for my first day on the job. As I crossed the street toward the front doors, which were emblazoned with four wands arranged into a red cross symbol, I was nearly knocked over by an enormous winged ambulance the size of an airplane swooping down from the sky, its siren screaming.

  I watched as six male nurses burst through the hospital doors, wands in hand, and ran toward the approaching ambulance, a stretcher floating in the air behind them. “Stand back,” the biggest man shouted, clearing the area with a wide sweep of his wand that sent passersby flying gracefully across the street to land safely on the other side. “We’ve got a hot one!”

  As if on cue, red-orange flames blasted through the ambulance windows, accompanied by a roar that shook the sidewalk. The man flung up his wand arm not a moment too soon, erecting a shimmering barrier around himself and his fellow nurses as the window glass shattered and rained down around them.

  I stared, slack-jawed, as they surged toward the ambulance, shouting orders to each other that were drowned out amid the continuous roaring. They emerged a few moments later in two neat rows, their white uniforms singed black, their wands aimed at the stretcher now floating between them. The stretcher was carrying not the massive dragon I was expecting but a palm-sized fairy who was thrashing against the steel restraints that bound her and screaming her head off, each wail sending more flames exploding into the sky.

  “Not again,” a yeti beside me said sadly, shaking his head. He was bald from head to toe; instead of glossy white fur, his pink-skinned body was covered in patches of mossy green welts that smelled like sulfur and hissed whenever he moved.

  “What was that thing?” I asked, taking a few hasty steps away from the yeti, who gave me a wounded look. Feeling slightly ashamed of myself—I would probably encounter far worse inside the hospital—I edged toward him again, trying not to let the disgust show on my face. Maybe I should have taken my chances as a janitor at the ogre feeding hall after all.

  Then another loud hiss filled the air, accompanied by a wave of steam that spewed droplets of water all over my face, and when the mist dissipated, I looked down to see that the yeti had melted into a sticky green puddle on the sidewalk.

  “Stand back, stand back.” A reed-thin dwarf wearing a hazmat suit and carrying a metal shovel ambled over and elbowed me out of the way. As I shuffled to the side, using a patch of grass to wipe off some of the yeti goo that had trickled down the sidewalk and soaked into the bottom of my shoe, the dwarf began scraping up the mess with the side of his shovel and dumping it into a black garbage can labeled “toxic substances.”

  I opened my mouth to ask what had happened to the yeti, then, thinking better of it, closed it again and glanced down at the job information Misty had given me. “Could you tell me where I can find Gerald?” I asked politely. “Today’s my first day on the job, and he’s supposed to be my supervisor.”

  Without responding, the dwarf jerked his finger over his shoulder toward the ambulance, where a squat gnome with ruddy cheeks and bottle-lens glasses so thick you could barely see his eyes was crouched down on the ground, holding a cylindrical object in his hand and staring very intently at something on the sidewalk. “Thanks,” I said, and headed straight for the gnome, my still-sticky shoe making an unpleasant squelching sound with every step.

  I approached the gnome and hovered over him, but he was so focused on whatever he was doing that he didn’t notice me until I cleared my throat loudly and deliberately. He gave a little jump, the cylindrical object flying out of his hand and clattering down the sidewalk, and adjusted his glasses as he squinted up at me.

  “Hi,” I said, sticking out my hand for him to shake. “I’m Wren Winters, and Misty at the employment office sent me here to…” I drifted off and screwed up my mouth. “Well, actually, she didn’t tell me what sort of job I’d be doing, but she gave me your name.” I held out the paperwork I’d been given as proof, and Gerald took it, holding the paper up to his nose as he scanned his wide amber eyes over it.

  “Wonderful!” He handed the paperwork back to me with a toothy grin. “We could always use more help in the housekeeping department. Seems like we lose another employee every third day…” His grin faded slightly, and though I very much hoped he meant that the employees merely quit rather than were, say, eaten by rabid werewolves, I kept my mouth closed once more, deciding that, for the sake of m
y sanity, today’s theme would be “Ignorance is bliss.”

  “Anyway!” He clapped his hands eagerly. “You’re here now, and beggars can’t be choosers.” Before I could decide whether I should feel insulted or not, he waved me toward the cylindrical object that had rolled a few feet down the sidewalk. “You’re just in time to help me test out my new invention,” he said as I bent down beside him.

  “What is it?” I asked, leaning in for a closer look. The object looked to be made of metal, with a hole on the top, a clear compartment in the middle, and a fat red button on the bottom.

  “A handheld high-temperature glass furnace,” he said, drawing up his shoulders proudly as he glanced down at his invention with the same pride usually reserved for one’s firstborn child. “I just sent it to the patent office last week—my fifty-fourth invention to date. And you know what? One of these days, I’ll get my first approval, I’m sure of it.”

  He thumbed his glasses further up his nose and puffed out his chest. “I’m a tenth-generation inventor. Did you know that my great-great grandfather, Cornelius Narbuck, is the gnome who invented the world’s first mermaid-descaler? It was revolutionary.”

  “That’s… wow, that’s really great,” I said, not having the faintest idea what a mermaid-descaler was. I turned my attention back to the cylindrical object that was now vibrating against the sidewalk. “What does it do?”

  Gerald waved his hand in the direction of the ambulance. “Ever since the fairies started illegally importing dragon grass—a highly addictive substance that improves their flying distance but also comes with the nasty side effect of breathing toxic flames—we’ve been getting at least one case a week here at the hospital for a carbon dioxide detox. But before they’re cured, they cause a lot of damage, as you can see.”