Slayers weren’t terribly affected by the change—we didn’t have usable magic, so our family lines weren’t bothered. Possibly the one way it touched us was that with fewer newly turned vampires—who were often very dangerous because they didn’t understand their limits—we didn’t have as many pro-bono cases. We’d also been forced to expand so that we now offered our services to shifters, wizards, and pretty much all supernaturals except for fae.
But in general, I’d been isolated from the panic until I’d come to Magiford and seen the desperation in person.
This means House Tellier’s actions are even more off brand than I thought.
“So… House Tellier is spending money wizards don’t usually have on humans—who they as a House don’t usually pay attention to,” I summarized.
April held her hand out, using the blue flames to shed light on the ashy ground. “It sounds like it.”
I nodded, mentally filing the fact away.
I also saw a House Tellier member meeting with a vampire. That’s too many suspicious behaviors for them to be innocent.
“They seem to also have suspiciously perfect timing,” April said.
“Yes,” I agreed. “Since they seem to be suddenly flush with cash…do you think they’ve been paying an oracle?”
Oracles were a subset of wizards, who—like slayers—didn’t have control over elemental magic. Instead, they could—in limited and specific ways—tell the future.
It was a rare power—and one that had inspired a lot of bloodshed within the supernatural community over the centuries. As a result, oracles were guarded and protected but if you had the right connections—and enough money—you could purchase a prediction from one. There was no guarantee it’d be helpful or even understandable, but it was an option available to the upper echelon of supernaturals.
“There’s no way,” April said, dismissing the idea. “Even if they’re suddenly spending more money, the funds needed to purchase a prediction are astronomical. Not to mention, there’s no way they’d have the proper connections.”
I nodded my agreement.
The convenient timing is still odd. There must be something to it.
Aloud, I said, “I’m going to walk the perimeter.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” April said.
I paused awkwardly in the middle of turning around. April was older than I was, so there was no reason for her to call me ma’am unless she meant it out of respect. It seemed Sunshine was right and that my team held me with respect, but how was I supposed to react to that when I was just their teammate? Since I didn’t know what to say, I concluded it was better to let it go and slipped off.
I edged around the garden’s perimeter finding plenty of charred remains of plants, but I didn’t find anything unexpected. I was going to smell so strongly of smoke that I’d need to shower before I went home—a vampire’s sense of smell was nothing compared to a shifters, but I wasn’t going to risk Connor asking why I smelled like I’d been cleaning chimneys.
I paced up and down the rectangular plot that had been burned, and the dampness from the rain made a layer of moisture on my boots that the ash clung to. Besides the garden, a few patches of lawn had burnt up—the fire had definitely spread out from the garden.
But it didn’t jump to the building… was it because the library is made of brick? Or did House Tellier control the fire to prevent it spreading?
If the fire was made of their flames, they could have magically controlled it. But then someone would have been able to sense the use of wizard magic. Not me, but as a fae Grove would be sensitive to magic and Brody should have smelled it.
Except we were focused on the fire, and when House Tellier showed up they used their magic fast, so the area brimmed with wizard magic shortly after our arrival.
When I got to the wall of the library, I could see a line that demarked where the fire had stopped burning.
Staring at the obvious border, I shook my head. There’s no way that’s natural.
I turned and peered out over the burnt gardens and the parking lot that extended beyond it.
The garden—which was a pretty small plot given it had to be wedged into a pre-existing space instead of being designed when the library was constructed years ago—was somewhat sheltered by the library itself, so there was only one direction anyone could have witnessed the fire from and the blaze had started fairly late at night.
This could all be a coincidence, but the chances seem low. I just don’t get why House Tellier would choose to burn down a garden.