The Cost of Conjuring: A Bargain Beyond Blood

11. Oh, so that's how fucked I am? Cool. Fun. Great.

The undeniable creeping feeling of a search spell wakes me and I have two seconds to panic before I remember I put the spell book back under the floor. About time that concealment circle did some work. I hope it holds.

My body hurts in a new, duller way. It reminds me of my family's only mountain hike, where mom read the map wrong and we ended up on a 49 km trail instead of the 5 km one we prepared for. When I woke up the day after we got home I felt a bit like this.

With only some difficulty, I get up, walk to the door, and quietly crack it open. The voices floating up from the living room aren't fake or dramatic enough to come from one of Grandma's shows. And they're too low for me to distinguish what they're saying.

I sneak across the hallway, getting down on my stomach as I reach the stairs. If I crane my neck I can just see the couch and Grandma's armchair between the balusters where she sits looking proud, self-important, and very pleased with herself. But it's the two figures on the couch that make me freeze.

They look different up close, more human, less like scary concepts. Their long gray robes clash with our brown, worn couch and their faces are polite masks. A paper with a search circle lies before them on the cluttered table. They still move like one being, not identical but when the short one straightens up the tall one moves a bit to the side to make more room. Even this close I can't pinpoint their gender, which is probably the point.

"It's not here," the short one says fixing their lifeless eyes on Grandma. "You are sure you didn't return it with the rest?"

"Oh, I must have," Grandma says. "Thank you for looking anyway. I would hate for that book to fall into the wrong hands."

"Of course. It's a dangerous book," the tall one says, their voice too level like this conversation bores them.

The silence drags on. Grandma has not offered them anything to drink or eat but from what I can tell they don't seem offended.

"It's very pleasant to get to meet my successors but I assume you're not here to help an old woman look for her books?"

The magicians share a look and I wish I could tap into that because it's loaded with information.

"You're right of course," the tall one says. "We're investigating a suspected violation. A building leveled with the ground in a most... suspicious way."

Grandma's eyes shine, and she leans forward in her chair. I've not seen her this excited since before her magic was sealed.

"How horrifying. Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Actually, we would like to talk to your grandson."

I stop breathing. Which is good because the silence that follows is so complete I'm afraid they will hear my heart pounding against the dusty floor.

"Levi?" Grandma asks, sounding disappointed, offended, and like she's trying really hard to hide it. "Why would you possibly want to talk to him?"

The magicians share a look again and I fight the impulse to get up, go back to my room, and find a way to climb down the outer wall without falling to my death. Grandma knows there's no way they'll miss the magic still clinging to me if they get close enough. The shower washed away the blood but the charge of magic still lingers.

I try to swallow the lump in my throat. This is just like eight years ago when Grandma somehow talked the two magicians sent to investigate the mysterious disappearance of my family into keeping it secret. Going with the car crash story. And that I have no magic talent, whatsoever.