Piling the papers on top of the desk neatly, I pulled open the first drawer. Only pens and little jars of ink, and way more pencils than anyone needed. The second drawer was tiny notebooks, all empty. When I pulled open the third drawer, another mess of papers stared back up at me.
None of the papers in the pile made much sense. They were a bunch of random spells. Preservation spells made a bit of sense, considering the ingredients littering the room. But then there was a spell to detect death magic, and instructions to make a charm to repel green witch magic. Who would want to repel a green witch? Every one I’d met had been a cheery woman with way too much pep in her step and a desire to save the world. My immediate family had been too weak to present a specialty, but my mother told me one of my great-grandmothers had been a well-known green witch.
The first drawer on the other side had me sighing in relief. Sitting on top of another pile of random, disorganized papers, was an envelope with my name written across the front in surprisingly neat cursive. My fingers danced across the paper, finding a few sparks of magic flitting back to me. Had he put some kind of spell on whatever note he’d left? The men had said he was eccentric. And a cunt.
I guess I couldn’t blame him if the spell was to shield the note from prying eyes. Though my magic was weak, I was the only one here able to undo a wizard spell, so no one else would be able to read the note unless I wanted them to.
Assuming the envelope held a note at all.
Opening it might help.
I grabbed the envelope and flipped it, revealing the family crest sealing it shut. There was a letter opener sitting in a cup of quill pens on the top of his desk, so I made quick work of getting inside. The piece of paper I pulled out was thin and yellowed, older than I’d expected. His handwriting was still neat, but unfortunately the letter wasn’t written in the common tongue.
He’d spelled the characters to shift and change, giving me a document in an almost impossible to decipher mix of all six magic languages. Earan, Difreno, Etuinais, Azeno, Dosyan, and Xurian. How did he know I knew all of them? Had he been monitoring me through the years while also keeping his distance? He could have at least come to my parents funeral.
“Every new thing I learn about this man makes me hate him more,” I said to myself, grabbing a blank and crinkled piece of paper from the pile.
Translation spells were valuable tools, but I didn’t want to expend magical energy on one. I still didn’t know if the men had plans for me, and I’d rather give myself the best possible chance to fight back. Besides, I knew every character and word on the page. All I had to do was copy, and copying was calming for me.
The smooth stroke of a pen across paper, my brain automatically knowing what to do next. Where to go. The smell of old books and crisp ink, reminding me of my note-taking in the Grand Library of Enchantments. My former workplace. A peaceful, vast old building that I missed more than anything else in Asteria, other than Solstice.
I’d been so good at my job. I wasn’t bragging, either. My ego never had me taking credit for untrue accomplishments: I knew I was horrible at most things. Magic. Hand-eye coordination. Social interaction. But records keeping, I had been good at. In my five years at the Grand Library, I’d never made a mistake. Not in translation or in archive location.
“And yet, they still replaced me,” I said, messing up the curve of one of the Azenen letters. Scribbling it out, I drew it perfectly the next attempt. “I wonder if I would have been able to train my magic to be stronger, if I’d tried? Mom seemed to believe I could. I always thought her desperation for me to be good at magic was more wishful thinking.”
Though most of a mage’s magical strength was based on their bloodline, some Etuin research had shown evidence of increased output after rigorous training. Eight hours a day for twelve straight months. But the increase in magical output didn’t bring the subjects on par with bloodlines much stronger than theirs. Nothing like the magic I would have needed to keep my job.
They’d replaced me with a Balenci. Magic on par with Solstice’s family.
But maybe if I’d taken the time when I was younger to practice eight hours a day for more than a year… The original goal of the research project had been to test the effects of that, as well, but after a year all the subjects had been pushed too far. Emaciated bodies, hair falling out, constant aches and pains, tons of side effects. None of the backers were willing to risk health and safety to continue, although I’d heard some subjects had pushed for a continuation of the experiment.
We would do anything to increase our status in society.
I was insane for considering this as an option, no matter how much I’d loved my job. When I got out of this damn house, I’d find myself a better job. Maybe a human library, where they wouldn’t care about my low magic. Solstice would let me crash on her couch so I wouldn’t have to sleep on the streets. My life would turn itself back around.
My eyes refocused on the paper in front of me, finished with the translation.
“Fuck.”
I glanced between the older paper and my crinkled new piece, hoping I’d messed up the translation. No such luck. Uncle Felix was officially on my shit list.
Dearest Hadley,
You may not know me, but I’ve been keeping an eye on you since childhood. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there when your parents passed. With the grace of a prima ballerina, you danced your way through the tragedy and out the other side. I’m proud of you for not needing me.
No one looked at me and saw grace, much less a prima ballerina. The flowery prose made my teeth grit in irritation.
Since you’re reading this, I’ve passed away. I had a long battle with a death curse, but ultimately I was not able to break its hold on time. My fate should serve as a lesson to you, especially since you’ll be following my footsteps.
I’d followed his will to this town for money, not to follow in his footsteps.
The creatures we’re dealing with — the creatures you are residing with currently — are not to be trusted or underestimated. Every resident of Hadley House is dangerous, but not as vicious as those you will encounter in the future. Placing you within the seal that holds them is simply a test to ensure you’re ready. Find your way out of the house. You have everything you need, hidden beneath creaking floorboards or within drafty bedrooms. And ensure the beasts don’t exit behind you.
My hope that he’d left me an easy out had died in my chest. Clues within the house filled with dangerous monsters? Was my uncle hoping I’d die here? Because that eventuality was looking increasingly likely with every word on this page.
Work quickly, or you won’t make it out before one of the creatures snaps. I believe in your ability to survive this, Hadley. You wouldn’t be my precious niece if you died so easily, before you even got to the real work. What I’m doing is important for society, and I have someone ready to tell you all about it once you pass this first test.
Important for society, my ass. The second I got out of here, I was reporting this whole damn property to the Hallowed Council.
