The Magician's Mistake (The Fay Morgan Chronicles Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

came up beside Lila. I stifled a groan as he hugged me, too. “Kestrel said it would take more than that to kill you, but we didn’t know.”
    “It was a good thing Kestrel showed up, right?” Lila said. “He’s good people. Adam, too.”
    “It was a good thing,” I said carefully, not glancing to where Kestrel stood at the window, looking out at the gray city.
    “So what now? How are we going to find this bitch and show her who owns this town?” Lila attempted to sound tough.
    “Now we rest. I must recuperate and heal. You will go home and I will call you in a couple of days when I have a plan.”
    She frowned. “Rest?”
    Kestrel turned from the window. “Rest,” he agreed. “Adam, you will drive Lila home, and then return promptly. Full moon tonight.” He nodded to a large, silver-barred cage in the corner of the hotel room.
    “On it,” Adam said.
    Lila threw a couple of things into her backpack, and they left.
    As soon as the door closed, Kestrel sat down on the bed beside me. Near, but not near enough, I thought and then tried to unthink it. “So, Morgan, you are planning on waiting a couple of days to take action?” He raised one eyebrow.
    “Of course not. But Lila would want to tag along and I am not in the habit of letting innocents get hurt.”
    “I thought so. What’s your plan?”
    I hesitated. I had no reason to trust him. Magicians were folly. Always. But … . “I’ll start with a finding spell. And then I will hunt her down and do what needs doing. Tonight’s the full moon. A good time for magic. A good time to end this witch.”
    His eyes traveled up and down my body. “You’re hardly in shape for any of that.”
    I sat up straighter. “I’ve been through worse.”
    “Morgan le Fay is a stubborn lass, how surprising. I only meant two magicians are better than one.”
    “You mean two witches?”
    We both attempted to glare at each other, but neither one of us could hold it, once we locked onto each other’s eyes. Those eyes, so endless. Who was he? I desperately wanted to know the answer to that.
    He glanced away first. “I will start on the finding spell. You have a soak. You stink and it will do you good.”
    “You’ll need to boil—”
    “Rose hips and rue. I wasn’t born under the hedge last night.”
    “And—”
    “Add peony and yarrow, once it thickens.”
    “A magician who knows herbs?” I said.
    “A magician who is not daft enough to ignore women’s magical knowledge. Of course I will bring my own sorcery to the table as well.”
    “Of course. A sacred sword? A staff of doom? I’ve always wondered why your type relies so heavily on phallic-shaped objects.”
    “Says the broomstick rider.”
    My mouth hung open. I surprised myself by laughing. Kestrel joined in.
    “Fine,” I said. “My shop has everything you need.”
    “My bag is well-enough provisioned. You. Bath. Now.”
    He disappeared into the other room. I grabbed the whiskey bottle and attempted to stand. I swayed. I groaned. Step by step, I made it to the bathroom.
    It was one of those modern wonders of marble, mirror, and a huge, deep tub. I began to fill it with hot water. I disrobed and examined myself in the full-length mirror. Brown, black, and purple bruises snaked across my arms, legs, torso, and back, echoes of the brutality wrought upon me. You will pay, I thought. Whoever you are, for whatever reason you want my amulet, you have messed with the wrong witch and you will pay.
    I eased into the water and sank down, letting the simple, everyday magic of water work on my aches. My elbow brushed against something, and I saw a small sandalwood square perched on the bath ledge.
    For healing , a note beside it said.
    Kestrel had made me a healing spell while I slept? It smelled of spice and forests. I ran my hands over it. The magic wound through it had a quickness and brightness to it, with an underlying depth that spoke of no ill intent. If he had wanted to harm me, he would have done it