Drink Deep - Chloe Neill [91]
“Sure,” I said with a nod.
“Now, imagine the system is ripped in two by those who decided good and evil were anathema to each other.” His left hand flat on the table, he placed his right hand palm down a few inches above it. “Each hand is now half of the magic in the world. The world continues to function as we know it only while those two layers remain in balance.”
My thoughts stopped whirling chaotically and fell into order. “Which is why the lake stopped moving and the sky turned red—because the natural laws are askew.”
“I wouldn’t say ‘askew.’ I would say ‘undergoing reorganization.’ ”
“So the nymphs, the siren, the fairies. They truly have nothing to do with it?”
“Bit players at best.”
I sighed, regrouped, and kept going. “Why would things become unbalanced?”
“Because light and dark magic are being blended together. Because the separations between them have been violated. There are a variety of reasons, I suppose, to employ dark magic. Murder. Binding someone to service. The creation of a familiar. Prophecy, for those who don’t have the gift. Conjuring demons. Communing with otherworldly creatures.”
“Then who’s doing it? And how do I fix it?”
“How do you fix it?” He barked out a laugh. “You don’t fix it. It’s not a screw that needs tightening. It simply is. Some would say it’s a return to the original world. The First World. That Which Existed and Should Exist Again.”
There was a self-satisfied gleam in his eyes that suggested he was looking forward to that day. It seemed clear he thought the world was ready for change.
“Wouldn’t it be a return to war?” I wondered. “To Armageddon?”
He clucked his tongue. “That’s such a naïve view. Good and evil existed together for eons before humans—or vampires, for that matter—came into being. Don’t knock what you don’t understand.”
I ignored the sass. “And the Maleficium. Where can I find it?”
He sat back in his chair and threw an arm over the back. “Now, now, Ballerina. I can’t give away all my secrets, can I?”
“Are you using the Maleficium to make magic of your own? To bring about that new world order?”
He smiled at me through half-lidded eyes. “Would I do such a thing?”
“Yes. And you’d lie about it.”
He tilted his head to the side in obvious interest. “After all I’ve just given you, you accuse me of dishonesty?”
“You’ve lied your entire life. That you had the city’s welfare at heart. That you were trying to help vampires. That you were human.”
“Yes, well. Amorality was easier before evil intent was ascribed to it.”
I rolled my eyes. “If you didn’t have anything to do with it, why do the fairies think old magic is involved? And why did the city smell like lemon and sugar after it rained?”
“Just because I didn’t make the magic doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it. The Maleficium is old magic. The recombination of good and evil leaves its mark on the natural world—the water and sky. It also leaves its mark on the wind. In the latent magic in the air. I can’t be faulted for wanting to sample it, can I?”
“How can you sample airborne magic from across town?”
“There is more to the universe, Horatio, than what you can see or believe to be true.”
“I’m aware,” I dryly said.
“The point is, magic doesn’t need a freeway.”
“If you don’t have the Maleficium, who does?”
“The Order maintains possession of it. Guards it, if you will.”
My stomach churned with butterflies. I was going to have to go back to Catcher and accuse a sorcerer of screwing with the Maleficium . Yeah—maybe Mallory was distorting the natural world in her fifteen minutes of free time each day.
Well, regardless of whether I liked his answer, I couldn’t fault him for not sticking to his word. I placed the medal on the table and slid it toward Tate. Without looking back, I rose from my chair and walked toward the door.
“Thank you for the prize,” Tate said. “And don’t be a stranger.”
Frankly, I’d be fine if I never had to see