The Etsey Series 1: The Seventh Veil by Heidi Cullinan Page B

together, and soft silver sparks rose up from their forms as they consulted with one another. Madeline forced herself to remain cool and impassive, tamping down her anxiety and irritation with the delay. But when they reassembled again, she could not keep herself from bracing against their possible refusal.
    “We agree to assist you in securing this patient and in seeking answers. But no further action may be taken from what is learned without our consent.”
    The verdict chafed, but Madeline only inclined her head and stepped away from Charles as the guides moved in around him. She donned her headgear and watched as they lifted him, bearing him up as a thick gray cloud that floated several feet above the ground as they followed Madeline back toward Rose Cottage.
    It was difficult to keep her thoughts in check as she walked; the guides were never completely absent from her, and they would be listening especially closely to her now. But her mind was like a storm, and she could only contain so much of it. She tried to keep her thoughts productive rather than emotional, to corral old feelings and girlish aches, and to try to postulate logically what could have brought Charles back to Rothborne Parish, to dwell on what could have induced him to wander alone onto the moor and at night to boot. She recalled the alchemist’s signature she had felt, and she spun out a little of her power to examine it more closely. He was not a guild alchemist, that much was clear. She prodded the signature again, then hissed through her teeth as she felt the charge push back against her. Erotic alchemy . Sex magic, it was called. But there was no greater perversion of sex or magic in the world, and it coated Charles so thickly it was nearly smothering him.
    The magician had to be after the House blood. That didn’t even require magic to see, though it was a bald reach, especially for a rogue practitioner. It didn’t surprise her that Charles would fall into an alchemist’s net, but there was something particularly alarming about this magician and what he was able to do to Charles. It was far more disturbing to think the alchemist had learned enough to come here.
    And if Charles is correct, Jonathan is alive and he is here too, with a demon.
    Jonathan, Jonathan is alive.
    Madeline stopped walking, shutting her eyes and drawing deep on her power to muzzle her thoughts. No. That couldn’t be true. He had gone to die. She had felt him leave. He had fallen into the curse, and his death had been certain. He must be dead by now, and by a terrible death at that. He was not here. He could not be here.
    If you reached for him, you would know.
    “No,” she whispered, and she opened her eyes.
    She was at the top of the ridge, facing the woods and the great tree that guarded them. The fog was curling against the top of the ridge, growing thicker, but it could not engulf the tree. Behind her the guides stopped, disapproving. She ignored them, focusing on the tree to ground herself again. She would wait, and she would look for the truths, and she would face them as they came. She let out a slow breath, pushing the tension out of herself.
    If Jonathan is here…if he is still alive…if he is hurt…
    Something moved at the base of the tree, and when Madeline realized what it was, she went still. A man stood there, smiling at her.
    Madeline blinked, but he was still there. And as she studied him, frowning, she saw that there was something wrong about him. Or rather, something distinctly different. He was dressed strangely, all in white, and he glowed even though he stood in the dark shadows, as if he himself were the light. He was not significantly tall, and yet he seemed huge. She could feel the power radiating from him all the way from the ridge.
    He looked oddly familiar.
    The man smiled at her and waved. Then he vanished.
    “You are disturbed by something.”
    Madeline was still blinking and staring at the space where the man had been, but when the