“But this is something I’m making for the war. Unscented so that nobody knows a glamourie is being used.”
“A glamourie for what?” I asked, because I hadn’t heard of this.
“For making human mages look like the fey, to allow them to blend in. I used part human magic, to allow the spell to feed off the mage’s power, and part fey to ensure that it works in Faerie without having to be constantly reapplied.”
“They’re gonna have to find some tall ass mages,” I pointed out.
Augustine himself was something like seven feet, and so fashionably skinny that he looked like a giant had grabbed hold of his perfectly coifed blond head and his fashionably shod feet and pulled.
“There are many types of fey, you know,” he said, taking the little pot back and gunking up my eyes with the contents. He painted circles around them, like a football player getting heavy handed with the eye black. And muttered a spell all the while, which made the stuff dry and tighten up uncomfortably. But when it finally released and he turned me toward the mirror again—
“Oh, that’s good,” I said, surprised. He’d gotten rid of the circles under my eyes at the same time.
“I’m thinking about bringing out a line of cosmetics, after all this war business is over. Unscented ones, to avoid clashing with a lady’s perfume.”
“You’ll make a pot of cash,” I said, admiring my fresh new look.
“I’ll need it,” it was grim. “The Circle pays poorly and my shows aren’t doing much better. With war on the doorstep, everyone feels awkward buying ‘pretty, useless things.’”
I looked around the workroom, filled with amazing magic, even more so than usual since Augustine had acquired himself an assistant. I glimpsed it peering at me from behind a rack, its huge, sunburst eyes as startling as ever. It was fey, too, of a kind not much seen.
One that was about to help us out hugely in the war.
But there was more here than just military advantage. I fingered a nearby dress, one that felt like silk and looked like stained glass with the light shining through it. In fact, it made its own light, staining the floor around it along with my skin.
Another had the rose window from Notre Dame on the skirt, with cathedral bells chiming softly whenever it moved. Still another was a column dress that looked like a thousand layers of white tulle, with roses climbing upward from the hem. They twined around the body of the dress, their stems making it form fitting, only to burst into bloom on the bodice. And these weren’t static blooms, either, but were constantly flowering, dropping petals with every step.
Beautiful.
I was tired of war, of running and fighting and crises and worry. I thought it might be nice to dress up in some “pretty, useless things” and go to a party, or hang out at a day spa, or spend the night in bed with my lover. And remember what the hell we were fighting for.
“Beauty is never useless,” I told Augustine, and was rewarded by a rare, understanding look. And an even rarer smile.
“What, exactly, did you need again?” he asked.
~~~
I shifted into Pritkin’s room at HQ, this time completely invisible, thanks to another of Augustine’s creations. It used to be that invisibility—the real thing, where you didn’t see movement or an outline or anything—was impossible. But apparently not for the fey.
Augustine had almost scared me to death creeping around my room once, wearing his Circle commissioned garment, and he’d improved it since then. Even still, the silky jumpsuit I had on took a tremendous amount of power, and would only last for so long. I had to time this exactly right, and that wasn’t really my best thing.
I therefore hedged my bets, and wedged myself into the little cubbyhole of a bathroom, where I could observe without being in the way. And where I wouldn’t land in the middle of a fight if I mistimed this. Because, yes, I was going back to the day of the attack at HQ, to see if my crazy theory had any validity.
But I was also trying to keep my word to Billy, and not change anything. Pritkin and I had both survived that attack, and I’d really like to keep it that way. I was here to observe, nothing more, which should be enough. I couldn’t see the assailant, but I should be able to feel any time spell he used.
It was a good plan, and I felt pretty proud of it.
Right until I shifted—and realized that somebody else had had the same idea.
I almost landed in another body, which was taking up most of the space in the bathroom, since there wasn’t much to begin with. My power managed to divert me at the last second, throwing me into the shower cubicle, which wasn’t much bigger than I was. And which was smaller still when somebody launched himself in after me.
I panicked; I admit it. I hadn’t expected an attack, being sure that the previous one had come from behind me, not from the side. Which was why I’d chosen the damned bathroom in the first place! So, I did something stupid.
Really stupid.
And froze time all around us.
This time, it wasn’t a slow down or a half measure. I freaking stopped it dead throughout the bathroom, which was a problem. Although not as much of one as what was coming in the front door.