The Magician's Mistake (The Fay Morgan Chronicles Book 1) by Katherine Sparrow Page B

and their eyes bulged. Whatever glamor they usually used to pass as humans fell away.
    “Now will one of you tell me what this nonsense is about?” I asked.
    Sonja howled and pummeled her fists upon the ward.
    I flinched. Immortal as I was, I could still easily be murdered by these creatures ten times as strong as any human.
    “Well done, well done,” the blue-eyed man said, standing up and brushing himself off. “You show grace, lass.” He had a slight Welsh accent. I wouldn’t have noticed it if I wasn’t from Wales myself.
    The two men smiled and walked toward me.
    “Belial,” I whispered again and gestured toward the ceiling.
    Rope fell and circled the men, trapping them where they stood.
    The young werewolf growled. His eyes slitted.
    “Come then, lass, I hardly think—”
    “Coming into my store. Commanding me to use magic and do your bidding. Bringing riotous trolls behind you. They’re usually quite lovely,” I said, not quite looking at them. At him.
    I knew him. I didn’t know him.
    “As though you don’t enjoy a bit of chaos as much as the next witch, Morgan. And here I was doing you a favor: coming to your store with a pretty bit of witch magic — the Amulet of Avalon.” His gaze, not that I was looking, fell heavy on me.
    “Avalon?” I said. My home, so many centuries and ages ago, long lost. I had nothing left from that summer island. “What makes you think I’d want some trinket? I have jewelry aplenty.” I gestured to the dozens of ankh necklaces, Celtic cross bracelets, and moon earrings that the trolls had managed to scatter across the floor.
    “But are they from the Isle of Apples?” he asked. “The island where great power and beauty once arose?”
    “Woah. What. The. Hell,” Lila said, popping her head up from behind the bookshelf at the back of the store. “I’m hiding and praying to whatever goddess will listen back here, and you’re like kicking ass and taking names, Morgan. This is so cool. You are so cool.” She walked forward and stood behind me.
    The trolls snarled at her.
    “Hello, monsters. Wow, real monsters,” Lila said. She waved at them.
    They lunged against the ward again. It still held.
    “Don’t,” I whispered. I turned to the men. “And you two, do not provoke the trolls. I’ll deal with you in a moment.” I focused my attention on the sisters. “Why are you here?”
    One of them spat a glob of green mucus on my floor. It hissed and smoked.
    “You did not just spit troll-phlegm on my floor.” I ran my hand through my hair and pulled out a magically-spelled bobby pin that held my long hair out of my face.
    “Siarad,” I said and ran my finger over the bobby pin. It turned into a flame, and I flicked it into the troll circle. The fiery truth-spell floated in the air in front of the trolls. “Who sent you?”
    The trolls reared backed from the flame, bumping against the ward.
    “Who sent you, Sonja?” I demanded.
    She squinted. Her mouth hung open. “There was a package? On our doorstep, a ding-dong-ditch kind of thing, only—”
    “It spelled us. Compelled us,” Rona said with her thick, rich voice. “It made us hunt the necklace thing.”
    “It gave us a promise of meat. When we found it. Sweet man meat for the necklace. We don’t eat men, not usually, but—”
    “Delicious men.” Rona licked her lips.
    Sonja reached for my truth spell that hovered before her, and caught it in her fist. The spell made a popping sound as she smashed it.
    I sighed. They knew nothing useful. I closed my eyes and studied the room for residuals of magic. Every witch and magician leaves a trace in their magic. I found the spell, like a gray cloud hovering around the trolls. There was something familiar about the magic. I concentrated, and could almost —
    “You about done there?” the blue-eyed man asked. “It’s a bit cramped in here, lass.”
    Growls filled the air. I opened my eyes to see the trolls turn toward the men and throw themselves at the