Chapter 11

Eleven

"There are three things a saint must never do: take gold for a miracle, believe they are worthy of worship, and make a deal with a sorcerer." — Sayings of the Blessed Crow.

This time when Mara reached the garden gate to the house on Albert Street, the wards met her with a warm tingle of greeting across her skin.

"You built me a loophole into your wards?" she asked.

"Of course I did. I don’t want you to think you’re not welcome here," Augustus said, shedding his jacket before reaching to help her out of her own.

"Thank you. It’s nice to feel wanted," she replied. He hung up her coat and hesitated.

"I’m sorry if I did anything untoward the other evening. I am usually quite an affable drunk, so if I did anything to make you feel uncomfortable, I’d like to know," he said.

Mara studied the stubble on his jawline and felt it moving up her neck as his strong arms held her.

"You did nothing that made me uncomfortable," she said, honestly.

Flustered, aroused, confused, but definitely not uncomfortable.

Augustus relaxed. "Good. I’ve been worried."

Mara placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "If you had done something that I didn’t like, do you think I’d be standing in your hallway right now?"

"Good point." Augustus placed his hand over hers. "There’s something I need to tell—"

"If you two are done standing around, can I please have an introduction?"

Leaning against the wooden banister was a lean, beautiful brown man with fiery hair. His eyes were dark green and shone in the half-light.

"This is Mara, Saint of grief and wonder," Augustus said before making a dismissive gesture with his hand. "And this is Flynn."

"Mara, at last." Flynn gently pushed Augustus out of the way and gave her a low, elegant bow. "It is a pleasure to meet the saint that has put this old man’s panties in such a twist."

"He strikes me more as a boxers guy," Mara replied, shaking the sprite’s hand. Flynn’s smile was mischievous and delighted.

"I like her," he said to Augustus.

"Connor asked her out." He wasn’t exactly pouting, but there was definitely a tone that Mara puzzled over. Connor was a nice, good-looking guy, definitely not someone to be warned over.

"You took her to see the Druids? I really need to talk to you about going on dates of better quality."

"Connor was very gentlemanly about it. I think it was more of an apology date than a date date."

"Sweet Saint, I can’t blame the man for trying. I’m just surprised he had the stones to do it in front of Augustus," Flynn said with an impish grin.

"Fuck Connor and his bad manners. What have you made for dinner, Flynn?" Augustus said.

Flynn wrapped Mara’s hand over his arm. "Come, darling, I’ve made a vegan lasagna and some herby pull-apart bread. Do you like wine?"

"Only if it’s red," Mara replied. She looked over her shoulder at Augustus, reaching behind her with her other hand, but he was already too far away. He smiled at her, and his lips were more like they were when he’d been sleeping, relaxed and untroubled.

"Let him brood and get himself together. The Druids always put him out of sorts," Flynn said, once the kitchen door shut behind them.

Mara sat down at a pine table as Flynn moved around the pale yellow kitchen. Like the rest of the house, it had been renovated in previous years with stainless steel appliances to match the stove and oven.

"Who would’ve thought a sorcerer would be so domestic," Mara said with a shake of her head.

"He’s a fucking slob, so he uses magic to keep it clean because he’s incapable of keeping up with it himself. His study is the only part of the house where the magic doesn’t work, which is why it looks like a tornado has gone through it." Flynn uncorked a bottle of wine and poured her a glass. "It really is great to see him take an interest in something other than that dratted hole in the magical ozone."

"But it is about the hole. I’m helping him close it. I think. He said every time he comes to see me, it gets smaller," Mara said as she took the glass of wine.

"Perhaps, but it’s still nice to see him try and make friends with someone. I thought he told me that you don’t like sorcerers."

"He’s the only person that hasn’t forgotten me in nearly my whole life. I can’t help but be curious about that."

"Sounds like he’s not the only one that needs a friend. I’m happy he’s finally letting go of this curse nonsense and letting someone in," Flynn said, sitting down beside her.

"What curse? My curse? Because I have more than one."

"No, darling. Augustus’s curse. You mustn’t have delved too deeply into his heartache if you haven’t figured it out yet."

"Figured what out?"

"That everyone he’s ever loved has died. That’s why he believes he’s cursed and keeps to himself."

Mara took a large mouthful of wine. "He’s not cursed. Believe me, I’d know. My family has had that many curses on them, I don’t even know which ones I have. If anyone is surprised he’s willing to risk being my friend, it’s me."

Flynn sighed. "He always did like complicated women."

Mara was saved from having to ask precisely what Flynn meant by that as Augustus breezed into the kitchen and took a beer from the fridge.

"What have you been saying to make Mara look so worried?" he asked, sitting down opposite her.

"Flynn was curious to know why I’m here if I don’t like sorcerers."

"Oh? And you said?" Augustus raised an eyebrow.

"The perks. Everywhere I’ve gone today people have fed me."

"My charm and good looks mean nothing to you? You wound me."

"I haven’t seen the first, and the second is subjective," Mara replied.

"With manners like that, it’s probably best that people forget you, saint."

Mara’s smile grew wider. "You can’t get people to like you because they are forced to remember you."

"Wicked little tongue on you when you’re hungry, isn’t there? What’s the holdup, Flynn?" Augustus asked. The sprite held a wooden chopping board, laden with fresh bread, and simply stared at them.

"Nothing. Here, eat." He placed it between them and retreated to make it look like he was busy preparing things when he wasn’t.

Flynn had known Augustus for fifty years, and seeing this side of him had Flynn rattled. Augustus wasn’t comfortable in company, but he was goading the saint with playful ease. Flynn had expected a quiet, timid woman who was lonely and would bend easily under the force of Augustus’s personality. Mara was none of those things.

Mara wasn’t intimidated or impressed in the slightest by Augustus, and because of this, she didn’t recognize the confused and besotted expression that the sorcerer currently wore.

Flynn didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or weep at all the trouble they would cause each other.

Thankfully, Mara was utterly unaware of Flynn’s study of the situation. She was happy to be out of the teashop for a night and had a houseful of books that Augustus had promised she could choose from.

"You know Flynn here uses wild magic like you," Augustus said. Mara raised a brow. She could see the poor sorcerer was doing his best to understand her and decided to let him down as gently as possible.

"It’s still different, Augustus. Flynn, correct me if I’m wrong, but sprite’s draw on the magic of the nature around them, the land and trees and all of the wild things?" she asked. The handsome sprite nodded. "So if you pull too hard on that magic, you could kill the nearest tree?"

"I would never! But in theory, yes," Flynn replied.

"The magic you use is a borrowed power. You can manipulate it, but the power originally belongs to the trees. So you see, sorcerer, you’re wrong," Mara said.

"It makes no sense! You have to get it from somewhere," Augustus argued.

"She pulls it from the Divine. That’s what saints and clerics have done for centuries, Augustus," Flynn replied.

"It’s also hereditary. What if the Divine blessed the original saint, and it was so powerful, it remained in the Corvo bloodline?"

Mara sighed and poured herself another glass of wine. "Do all sorcerers have to study the whys of things so intently that they take all of the mystery out of them?"

Augustus gave her an incredulous look. "Do you really have no desire to learn how your abilities work so that you can break some of your curses?"

"Who says I want to get rid of them?" she said. Mara had spent many years wondering what would happen if her curses were lifted, and she had simply given up hoping anything would change.

"You really don’t want to be remembered at all by anyone?" Augustus asked.

"That’s not the worst of them."

"What else is there?" he asked, brows lifting. Mara didn’t reply; she was too lost in the memory of her mother screaming and dying in her bed.

"I’ll tell you some other time, perhaps. I’d prefer not to give everyone indigestion," she said finally. Augustus opened his mouth to press the matter, but Flynn, who was far wiser in picking up emotional signals than the sorcerer, kicked him hard under the table to make him drop it.

"If you can’t tell me about your curses, then tell me why the Corvos hate sorcerers," Augustus said.

"Because they are nosey," Flynn muttered.

"I’m sure there are lots of reasons." Mara shifted in her chair uncomfortably.

Augustus smiled. "You don’t know, do you?"

"I have a way to find out. I just haven’t bothered to look. The warning was always enough for me to keep my distance. My whole bloodline would be despairing right now, knowing that I’m breaking bread with one of your kind," Mara said.

She didn’t know why she was risking her ancestors’ disapproval and wrath. She doubted they would have supported her theory of Melbourne wanting a miracle.

Her mother would’ve told her that if the sorcerer broke it, it was up to him to fix it.

"I, for one, am glad that destiny has brought us all together," Flynn said over the top of them, breaking up the brewing argument. "Melbourne is weird enough without its magic always in flux. If you two working together can fix it, then it’s worth burying the animosity of ancestors and gaining new friendships."

Mara looked sideways at Augustus. "Is he always this positive?"

"Unfortunately. He doesn’t like arguments. Better not introduce him to your grandfather cat."

Flynn didn’t like that they were finding their common ground in mutual criticism of himself, but he was willing to tolerate it to see the tension between the two relax again.

He focused on his wine and tried not to think too hard about the way the two of them circled each other like wary, curious cats.

After dinner, Mara got lost in Augustus’s bookshelves. She still had the book of sorcerers that he had given her, but she couldn’t resist running her fingers along the spines and pulling several other volumes off the shelves.

Augustus seemed to be interested in everything from quantum theory to mythography. He found her sometime later, sitting on the floor with a small stack beside her, and a book opened in her lap.

"I’ve been thinking," he said as he sat beside her and leaned back against the bookshelf.

"It seems you don’t do much else," Mara murmured, not looking up from the page of illustrations she was studying.

"I know, I can’t help it. It’s a sorcerer thing. Hear me out?" Augustus asked. Mara lifted her head and shut the book in her lap.

"I’m listening," she said.

"I want us to have a proper truce. I hate to admit it, much more than you can possibly know, but I need your help. Without your grief tea and miracles, I can’t fix Melbourne’s magic or detangle myself from it. It’s my nature to want to figure out how your magic works so that I can understand how it reacts to mine and Melbourne’s as a whole. I’m bossy and demanding and impatient, and I’m going to probably piss you off more than you can imagine. I don’t mean it."

Augustus struggled to vocalize what he was thinking at the best of times, and Mara had no idea that her proximity made him even more inarticulate.

"Are you trying to figure out what you can offer me in return for helping you?" Mara asked with a frown. "Because you should know, that’s not how miracles work."

"That’s the problem, Mara. I don’t know how or why any of this is working," Augustus replied. "I had the memories of my sister to contend with the other night, but mostly I was drinking because I can’t figure out any of this. Not the magic, not my buried grief, and certainly not you."

Mara rested a hand on his knee. "Perhaps you need to learn to stop being such a control freak, Augustus. I said I’d help you, and I will. That’s all there is to it. Miracles don’t require payment because they take as much as they give. In your case, you need to sacrifice your pride."

"I know, and that’s why I’ve been fighting it every step of the way. You said your miracles can’t be paid for, but let me give you something in return. Please, my honor demands it," Augustus said.

God, that must be lonely. Mara chewed her lip, thinking about her day and his words that wouldn’t leave her head. Then she had her answer. "I want to go with you to sort out Melbourne’s supernatural disputes like we did today."

"That doesn’t seem like a very good payment," he said with a frown.

"It will get me out of the shop. They won’t remember me anyway. I’d like to meet with people who aren’t telling me their darkest secrets," she replied, and because he was being so painfully honest with her, she decided to return the favor.

"You were right. I am lonely. I can’t change the memory curse, but maybe spending time outside of the shop will make it seem less unbearable."

Augustus’s expression softened, and he placed his hand over hers. "I remember you."

"For now. Who is to say that once we finish going through your grief, you won’t forget me like everyone else?" Mara asked, and his hand tightened around hers unexpectedly.

"I won’t forget you."

"You won’t have a choice. Try not to let it trouble you too much, Augustus. Saints and sorcerers aren’t meant to be friends for long anyway," Mara said. She did her best to sound flippant, but it sounded like a lie even to her.

Why did the Corvo saints hate sorcerers so much? For the first time in her long life, Mara was determined to find out and not take Sophia’s word on it.

"I agree to your terms, Mara Corvo," Augustus said, shaking their held hands. "And I am determined to be your friend. Curses, memories, and disapproving ancestors be damned." He said it with a smile, but Mara knew a vow when she heard one.

The strange new miracle inside of her glowed as she held onto his hand and whispered, "Deal."