Magical Midlife Meeting (Leveling Up #5)(56)

“With spells,” Niamh replied. “That’s how they fight. They wave their hands around and largely stand in one place. It’s right boring.” She was annoyed she hadn’t been able to do more in our fight— the other side had given in too fast.

“It’s not boring when you don’t have a mage at your back,” Broken Sue growled. “Not everyone can withstand one of their spells. And even if they can, there’s always a limit. Whether it’s two or three, or more. At some point, it’s too much.”

“I knew a mage that was super scared of shifters,” I said. “And everyone yesterday just froze.

Were the mages you…dealt with not afraid?”

Broken Sue crossed his arms over his wide chest. “One on one, yes. Small groups, sure. But when they stood behind the mercenaries, no, they weren’t scared. They had numbers and power. We had a few guarding many. They bulldozed us.”

The room went silent for a beat, everyone clearly processing the pain behind Broken Sue’s words, the raging memories that must be ripping him apart.

“You had to spare fighters to guard the vulnerable,” Nathanial said, leaning against the wall with an apple in hand. “That was not a fair fight.”

“Fair or not—”

A knock sounded at the door. I’d put up Elliot’s ward, after searching it for hidden tricks and finding none, and it vibrated with an unnecessary warning. Mr. Tom came out of the laundry area and headed that way.

“Fair or not,” Broken Sue began again, “they did more than just stand there slinging spells.”

“Are ye sure, now?” Niamh narrowed her eyes. “They brought in mercenaries. Who was actually fighting?”

Broken Sue stilled, eyes on Niamh.

“Hiring mercenaries seems to be their go-to move when they’re up against a wall,” I said as Mr.

Tom closed the door. He walked over and handed me a note on plain cream cardstock, which he’d already divested of its envelope in his usual way of helping himself to my mail.

“Money can buy you a victory,” Ulric said, lounging on a chair, his leg thrown over the arm. “It can’t buy you class, but it can buy you a victory.”

“Ye know from experience,” Niamh intoned.

“Nah, I don’t have money or class.” Ulric laughed. “Just wild hair, a bad attitude, and a tricky tongue.”

I frowned as I read the note. “Elliot Graves needs to see us. Well…me and whoever I want for protection. A few of us. It’s about tomorrow’s battle against Mr. Bow Tie. Chambers.”

“Why a few of us?” Niamh asked, sitting up.

I shrugged. “Just says to bring a few people if I want protection, although he says I won’t need any. It’ll be a quick chat about a rule change.” I put the note down, my stomach swirling like I’d been caught cutting class. “He probably wants to caution me. We went a little overboard.”

“You need to learn how to do that shadow soul thing or whatever it is,” Hollace said.

“Who wants to come?” I put up my hand.

“Ah, sure.” Niamh pushed herself up to standing. “I might as well. I’m bored sitting around here all the time.”

“I don’t know why,” Mr. Tom said, pulling a bowler hat and a pair of sunglasses from his disguise suitcase. “You’re doing what you always do—sit on your butt and drink.”

“No, no, don’t ye get out that stuff a’tall. Ye look like a clown, so ye do.”

“I don’t want to stand out in places where I can’t blend in,” Mr. Tom said.

Niamh stared at him for a long beat. “Then why in the beejeebus are ye putting on that garb? Are ye out of yer mind or what? Of course ye stand out, ye donkey. Who in a dark tunnel wears a feckin’

bowler hat and sunglasses? Ye’ve got to be takin’ the piss altogether.”

“We’ll all go.” Austin walked from the bedroom with tousled wet hair and a five o’clock shadow.

He’d clearly overheard our conversation and decided not to primp. No watch lined his wrist, and he wore a simple T-shirt and jeans. “A Jane and some animals made laughing stocks of mages yesterday.

That won’t sit well.”

I slipped my arm around his middle and gave him a quick squeeze. “Wise.”

“Cyra, at the back,” he said, pulling the door open for me. “Watch our six. Weakest in the middle.

Shifters flanking.”

Shivers ran down my arms and a strange feeling quaked in my middle. We started walking before I could decipher it. The banter and relaxed chatter from a moment ago had completely dried up, everyone now on their guard. Austin was entirely correct—we’d been noticed yesterday and might be a target today. No one wanted to be made a fool of by the butt of the joke.

“Where to?” Austin asked, and I handed over the note. Rather than take it, he read the message and then nodded. As we made our way to the meeting point, cutting through the repaired and empty lobby area (with a longing look through the new double door), and into the smaller, danker tunnels, he dropped his voice to address me privately. Or mostly privately. “You let the shifters upstage you yesterday.”

“I didn’t want to accidentally kill anyone. I almost did anyway.”