Page 83 of Scars Like Wings
“You want to know somethingfuckinghilarious about this whole thing?” Maisie shook her head softly, a hard-edged smile on her lips. “I always hated fairies. Even as a kid. I never understood everyone’s obsession with them in fairy tales and romances. They never interested me. I thought they were boring. I never learned anything about them beyond the tiny bits I had to learn to pass a test in elementary school. I never paid it any real attention. So, I know they are naturally, almost divinely, pretty. They have wings. They like to bargain and entice humans for their own gain for reasons they only know or whatever. But nothing else really. I know more about shifters and vampires than fae. Yet, today, I find out I’m half-fairy and I have to talk tomy father who is a fairy.” Her chuckle is self-deprecating, harsh, and lacking any humor. “Kay, thanks, I hate it here.”
“Oh, no, Maisie,” Simone got up and took one of Maisie’s hands from her crossed arms. “I’m so sorry. This has been such a crazy day.”
“Seriously. And it isn’t even over.” Maisie turned to me. “Bee? How much of the lore about fae is true? Can you really control them with their name?”
I shook my head. “No, that’s a common misconception that the lore gets wrong. You can summon them with their name and some magic, but you cannot control them no more than you can control any creature. Magic or not.”
Maisie nodded. “I think I have a summoning spell somewhere for that.”
“Are you really going to summon him, Maze? I mean, your mom made it sound like it was a really,reallybad idea,” Simone said.
“Yeah, I mean, why are you so interested in contacting him now? I know you have your doctorate, but that can’t be the only reason?—”
Maisie interrupted me. “You remember what Isidora said today? About grimoires?”
“She kind of said a lot about them…” I said.
“Grimoires aren’t specific to witches. Any supernatural can have them, and they can be passed down from one generation to the next. So, my mom may not have one?—”
Realization dawned on me. “But your father might.”
“Bingo.”
“But even if hedoeshave one, how do we know he would be willing to give it to you? He sounds like a Grade A dick,” Simone said.
“Oh, I’m not worried about that. I can beveryconvincing when I want to be.” Maisie winked. She held out her handtoward her floating bookshelves on the far wall. A book wiggled itself free from in between the stack and landed in her open palm. She opened it to the middle and started to search the pages.
“Maisie?” I said as I watched her skim the pages.
“Hmm?”
“You know you don’t have to do this for me, right? We can find another way to understand the Archaic. I’m sure Isidora would be happy to help.”
Maisie looked up and smiled at me. “I know.” She looked back down at the book to continue looking through it. “But this may be faster than waiting for Isidora to try to translate it. The Archaic was made by a witch-fae. I know almost everything there is to know about witches to the point where I’m getting a literal PhD in it. So, if I can get my father’s grimoire, I might be able to combine what I learn from there about fairy magic with what I know already—in theory,at least. Even if it doesn’t work, the grimoire would give me a new perspective on my dissertation to explore.” Maisie shrugged.
“Fair enough.”
“Found it!” Maisie declared. “This is a basic spell, but it works to summon anyone to your location for a short period of time.”
“How short?” Simone asked, looking over Maisie’s shoulder.
“Looks like… between five and seven minutes.”
“Yikes.”
“I did saybasic. For the spell to work on anyone, it can’t hold for long. A more complex spell would hold someone for longer, but it would take more time to prepare and require more of a price. This one is already requiring quite the price as is.”
“Magic is all about intention and cost,” I said, quoting something I had often heard from Maisie.
“I love that you have been paying attention during my late night study sessions,” Maisie joked. It made me smile seeing her return to something close to her normal self. Maisie closed the book and sent it back to its place on the shelves. She rubbed her hands together. “Okay! Let’s do this!”
Maisie came around the coffee table. Simone followed behind her to stand on one side while I rose from the chaise to stand on her other side. Maisie lifted her right hand with the palm facing up toward the ceiling. She raised her other hand into the air above it. Then she said loudly into the living room. “Here you are not, but so shall you be. Aran Hiro Kikumoto, I summon thee.”
“I thought you didn’t need chants to do a spell,” Simone teased.
Maisie smiled at her with a joking look before she returned her eyes to her outstretched hand. Her eyes brightened to a neon purple as magic surrounded her left hand. She held her left in her right by her fingers and slid it against her palm. The magic cut through her skin easily, blood pooling above her wound. Still, just as quickly as the wound appeared, it magically sealed itself under the blood as if nothing had happened and someone had just poured the blood there.
“Holy shit, you didn’t say this requiredbloodmagic,” Simone said. “That is supposed to be forbidden.”