Neophyte

by T. D. McMichael

It certainly had been like the dark aether, the Dioscurus. I couldn’t see it. Just feel it and perceive of an entity through the cloud of Asher’s mind. Maybe scrying made Dioscuri invisible.

  “Are they at all perceivable visually?” I asked.

  Lux adjusted the rings on his Wiccan W. “Yes. And there are lots of them. The Dioscuri have a hive mind. I don’t mean Wiccan Hiving,” he said. “I mean, One mind thinking for all, all minds thinking for one...”

  It sounded like some kind of nightmare version of The Three Musketeers.

  “I have heard that they have a dark tower somewhere, although where it is is beyond me,” said Lux. “They come from it, now and then. Do not ask me more. I do not know. Oh, and, since this Gathering encompasses fight training, I will say this.” He flexed the muscles of his Wiccan Mark. “When you attack one of them, you attack them all. They all know. Hive minds, remember? In that sense, they are immortal. Can you figure out why?”

  “Because... because...”

  “Because,” said Vittoria, who wished to prove that she––of all of us––deserved to be in Ravenseal, “the Hive never forgets.”

  “Even new Dioscuri know the oldest things,” said Lux. “It is the source of their power. Which is why witches and wizards come to them. To remember...”

  He left us there, thinking about what he had said.

  * * *

  That night Lennox and Marek had a tremendous argument outside of a speakeasy in New York City.

  “You really believe this? You really believe they have our best interests at heart? Maria wants power, Lennox, more than she’s got. She killed Glamorgan, the Vampire King, or did you not put that together in that thick head of yours?”

  “Don’t you see, Marek, that that is why I need to go back,” said Lennox. “They’ve offered me Rome. Did she tell you that?”

  “Maria says the same thing two different ways and backwards. Believe none of it.”

  “You have been my mentor. Almost a father,” said Lennox. “I would be dead without you. But it is time we went our separate ways. Just think, you won’t have to look out for me anymore!”

  He laughed.

  “Actually, that’s exactly what I’ll have to do,” said Marek. “If you go back to them, how could I ever trust you again? You know things that could get us both killed.”

  “Only because you told me,” said Lennox. “Besides, I’m sure they wouldn’t object. Come with me.”

  “Two vampires in Rome?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “It is 1929,” said Marek, looking at his wristwatch. “Besides, these flappers taste good. I couldn’t give that up. You go and be their lapdog and watch for these mongrels. I say no thank you. You go Lennox. I’ve taught you well enough. Maybe you will survive. In which case I’ll see you next century. Or the next. If you make it.”

  “Don’t be like that, Marek.”

  Marek made his way down the street. “Die young, my friend. Live forever. Et cetera, et cetera. Blah blah blah. Whatever. I don’t care.

  “Marek!”

  But Marek didn’t turn around; he didn’t look back. Lennox watched Marek disappear. Something in his eyes sparkled.

  * * *

  Asher massaged his temple with his huge lion-like paw. “I will have to go,” he said. “But I can come back, in a day or so, if you wish to scry some more.”

  “Is anything wrong?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Nothing for you to worry about,” he said.

  I didn’t inquire further.

  “But, remember, Halsey, keep practicing,” he said. My robes hid my Mark. “The best defense is the threat of retaliation.”

  ... Because there wasn’t anything to hide.

  “Okay, Asher,” I said, promising him, “and... thank you...”

  He nodded. “See you soon,” he said.

  We left each other at the opening to the Columbarium. It was quite a trek back to my room. Asher slipped off. He didn’t want anyone knowing he had been showing me stuff. I remembered all of the fuss that had been made about ailuranthropes––because some of them when mated with certain wizards and witches produced extraordinary children; children with powers that could be abused.

  What would have happened, if we had been caught? Was there some kind of council that ruled on magical infractions? I figured there must’ve been. Whoever they were, I didn’t want to get caught up in their politics.

  No wonder scrying was illegal. It was dangerous. I had seen Lennox as even perhaps he did not want me seeing him.

  Asher had taken the torch with him. And cats were usually so good about seeing in the dark. I trailed my hand along the rough stone wall. My book and my map were both back in my dormitory. I seemed to remember swearing to myself that I would never leave either of them behind again. Some idea was rattling around in my head––

  Either my roommate or my diary would get the full brunt of it, if I ever got back.

  Asher had created fire as if by speaking it. “Fire!”

  I tried the same. My Wiccan Mark was really letting me down. Nothing happened. Instead, I walked along, on my short, non-Gambalunga legs, and then somebody said my name.

  “Halsey?”

  I turned around.

  “Psst! Over here!”

  I went back to see what this was all about, but a little part of my brain was like What. Are. You. Doing?

  Someone was trying to kill me, weren’t they?

  It was impossible to see who it was.

  I continued to creep towards them. And then he appeared.

  Pendderwenn.

  He looked anxious. His eyes were bugging out. When he put his hands on me, I nearly panicked. For some reason––tonight––right now––Pendderwenn was scaring me.

  “Mr. Pendderwenn,” I said, in a voice of feigned astonishment. He had both his hands on my arms and shook me a little bit. If Veruschka Ravenseal was grabby––that was mind grabby; Pendderwenn was the real thing.

  “You’re hurting me,” I said.

  He apologized profusely. But he still didn’t let me go.

  “I have been wondering if, whether or not, you have given any consideration to joining my House,” he said.

  “It’s the middle of the night, Mr. Pendderwenn,” I said. “Please, let me go.”

  He seemed to come back to his senses. “Yes, you’re right, but, still, we could use you. Pendderwenn House would be right up your alley.” He smiled at me. His fake rub-on tan made him look like he was plastic.

  He looked into my eyes to make sure I got the point and then let me go.

  Halsey Pendderwenn.

  It didn’t sound that bad. In my head.

  “Heads are Houses,” said Pendderwenn, very wisely, “and as I am the Head of House Pendderwenn, I know. Your joining us would be like a coup d`état.” Pendderwenn beamed. “So what d’you say?”

  “Thank you. I’ll think about it,” I said.

  “Nobody else is recruiting you, are they?” he said, as if he thought it was a long shot.

  “Well...” Better to let him make of that what he would. I said good night.

  “We would be twelve again. I mean, you could help me with the recruiting. A full House, eh?” said Pendderwenn. “Eh, Miss Rookmaaker?”

  “You mean you don’t even have a––partial House?” I said.

  He broke down entirely. “I’m losing it. Oh, I don’t mean it’s being taken away from me. It’s just... dying,” he said. He wept right there. “You can imagine what they think.”

  “Honestly... ,” I shook my head. “I can’t.”

  He took a great gulp of air, becoming even more bug-eyed.

  “Paris, with all of their vichyssoise, they of course are happy,” he said, angrily. “They have always feared what the House of Rome could be! Then you have the other covens.”

  “They don’t like you either?”

  His shoulders shook.

  “What a great bore you must think me,” he said.

  �
��I think you could just use a vacation,” I said.

  A tear leaked from his eye.

  “I knew you were a good one,” he said. “I said, Pendderwenn, I said, if there was ever an Initiate who could bring us back to the status we had so briefly––and it was ever so brief––it would be that Miss Rookmaaker. After all, her parents were watchtowers. Powerful Wiccans were Kinsey and Maximilian Rookmaaker, powerful, powerful....” He trailed off.

  I stood dumbfounded.

  “You really knew them?” I said.

  But Pendderwenn was still in a huff. “Knew them? Huh. Not as well as some people. Let us just say, I shook their hands once. Word gets around, Miss Rookmaaker. It does indeed.”

  “Yes, but, it’s just––”

  “Oh! My word! I forgot. You never knew them, did you?” he said.

  My lip trembled somewhat; I nodded my head.

  “What’s a Watchtower?” I asked, recovering myself, but Pendderwenn just shrugged.

  “I’m only a number two, remember, Miss Rookmaaker; I’m not to know about, well, anything,” he said.

  He bade me goodnight.

  “But wait!” I said. “Can’t you tell me anything?”

  Pendderwenn searched and searched in his head.

  “I really wouldn’t know where to begin,” he said. “Being Adept sucks.”

  He turned and left me.

  * * *

  I raced back to my room. “Lia? Lia? Wake up...”

  “M’argh.”

  “Oh, never mind. Go back to bed.”

  “Murgh...” she sighed and went back to sleep. I was left wondering what I should do. I pulled my diary out from underneath my pillow and decided to write in it some.

  But then, it happened.

  When I went to light a taper, something happened. Something had never happened before; but here it was, and it was happening.

  When I held the matchbook over the candle, prepared to remove a match to light it––

  The candle ignited. It was like a tiny light going on. My tiny light.

  I had just done magic without meaning to. Lit a taper.

  Surprised, I dropped the matchbook, and then leaned closer. The candle flame hissed quite happily and then I blew it out. A curl of black smoke drew up, I could see it from the faint light which filtered into our dormitory.

  Nervous and excited, I drew forward once more, on my hands and knees, and––holding my breath––held up a single fingertip above the candle wick. It popped on again. I was suddenly overwhelmed with a rush of emotions. I could turn on lights! But that would mean...

  I took the candle with the flame in it, in my off hand, and trailed it along the place––the alleged place, I had to remind myself––where my Wiccan W should have been––all along the fingertips, and then up my arm, to my delta, the Wiccan magic spot, where the aether was said to flow, from the crook of my elbow. But, if it flowed out of me, perhaps the aether was the dark aether?

  There, at the crook in my elbow, was the teensy tinsiest knotwork of magical veins, which meant that I could not go to a non-magical blood drive ever ever again.

  My delta.

  My magic.

  It was really there.

  I blew out my candle and fell back on my bed.

  The creature reappeared again. Its eyes, so dangerous-looking, shined from out of the darkness. But I had fire now. An élan that was super-Wiccan and all me; it didn’t dare come any closer. I had magic, now.

  It was only later that I woke up and imagined that it had all been a dream––but there it was, my Mark was shining.

  * * *

  We were approaching the middle of December; I would be eighteen years old in one week’s time, but I couldn’t think about my birthday right now. Lux was pushing us harder than ever before.

  “You have to master this. Cull forward your magic,” he said.

  But the other Initiates and I got that constipated look on our faces again. We couldn’t do what he wanted us to.

  “It hurts... I can’t do it... ow,” complained Shaharizan. She looked at Lux mutinously.

  “I have to get you ready,” he said.

  “But why?” we all complained. “What’s going on? Is something coming up?”

  Bad choice of words. I had been straining so hard I almost vomited. (“Soon it will appear almost effortlessly,” he said.) I didn’t want it to. I drew back from the magic. It was not more second nature than going to the moon, and twice as hard; but I at least recognized it, when I saw it, the good and bad aether... I looked surreptitiously at my fingertips. The index had a faint silvery swirl––intricate and fascinating. Like me.

  I gave myself a little pep talk. Now you must hone your craft, Halsey, I told myself. Lux cleared his throat.

  “This is recruit week,” he said. “You all know that. Which means that you should all have received your brochures by now. Tomorrow,” but we moaned again. “Tomorrow is the first day of the Wiccan Draft. It is the opportunity the Houses have all been waiting for. Right now, they’re going back and forth between each other over who will get to select you first; which is really what they’ve all been up to since the beginning. I know what you’re thinking. That you were all supposed to have had a choice, some say. Later Halsey. The fact is, this Gathering has seen––for lack of a better word––into each and every one of you. Now it’s only the Houses that are left jockeying for who will draw first.”

  “You mean we are just going to be chosen?” interrupted somebody.

  “It does us no good if you go to the wrong place,” said Lux. “Just as it does them no good. Who better to decide that than the Houses. They will know which of you will fit in with each House?”

  “But what if no one picks us?” Lizette said.

  “What if we get stuck in the Hopper?” said Astra.

  Lux addressed the Initiates’ queries. “That is why each of you will be required to present yourselves, one last time,” he assured us, “for evaluation purposes only. You needn’t worry...”

  There were boos; they drowned him out.

  “I can’t go through that again,” said one.

  “It isn’t fair,” said another.

  “They already saw. Why do they have to look again?” said Lia.

  “The decision process,” said Lux, “is difficult this year, owing to the fact that there are so many of you.”

  “Only thirteen,” said Badgley. “How many Houses are there, anyway?”

  “It’s not that simple,” said Lux. Why did I get the feeling like he wasn’t telling us everything? “Some are negotiating for higher spots. While others, others are looking at auctioning their markers to the highest bidder, whichever House is willing to give up the most for you. Which is why it’s a good thing to go with them, when they do choose you, because you’ll be going to a House that really wants you,” he said.

  I looked at him like it was rubbish.

  Vittoria was looking around, all very blasé. She neither exclaimed nor objected––to any of it.

  Lux gripped his arm at the delta. “Enough! You will all have a chance to exhibit, which, after all, is the point. Without you being educated by an esteemed and certified Wiccan Household––well, you don’t want that traumatization, believe me.”

  “That’s why you showed us Asher,” I said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Asher,” I said. “He’s an eclectic supernatural. Self-educated,” I said as derogatorily as I could muster. “And you saw,” I said, speaking to the rest of them, “what he was treated like. Nobody trusted him. In fact, they all feared him. But they were willing to use him, weren’t they, to get what they wanted?”

  “There are benefits to being educated classically, through one of the schools,” said Lux. “Among them is respect. If you encounter a third-degree from one of the Houses, you’ll think twice about dueling with him––for he will know what you will know, unless you sabotage your chances of being recruited by a House, simply because you were too stubbo
rn to exist in a world which is imperfect.”

  Lux’s speech was working on them...

  He was showing them what they stood to lose.

  “You said that we were important,” I said. “You said that we mattered.” I couldn’t help it; I was shaking as I spoke. “You said that if it weren’t for us, none of them would be here.”

  “Halsey, think about what you’re saying,” he said.

  “I am, Professor.”

  “Don’t talk yourself into something that you can’t take back,” said Lux. “That isn’t a threat. I am your friend.”

  Vittoria smiled at me. It was that, more than anything, that got me.

  “I will finish up with the selection process,” I said, “or the draft, as you call it––if for no other reason than to see; but I don’t like what I see; and I do not agree with it, Professor. And I certainly––I certainly won’t be a part of it.”

  He called me back, but it was too late; I had gone. Lia caught up with me. “Do you know what you’re doing?” she said. We were departing the sandpit. Lia wasn’t angry with me, was she? If anything, she looked impressed.

  “Why are you beaming?” I said.

  “Because... you just stuck it to a third-degree badass from the House of Houses––except for the Master House,” she said.

  “There is no master House, Lia. And he isn’t that bad. Do you know? I feel reckless. What’s the Wiccan virtue for not giving a damn?”

  “I don’t think there is one,” said Lia, who looked at me, admiringly. “Do you think he’ll tell? You know––them? The delegates from each of the Houses? About you? That you might be a bad seed?”

  I shook my head. “It isn’t his style––if you’ll forgive the pun. But Vittoria will. Ravenseal must hold the first marker. I looked at her face,” I said to Lia. “They’ll choose Vittoria with their number one pick. If the other Houses reject me, so be it. I’ll go it alone. I always have. Come on.”

  * * *

  I wished, for the first time in a long time, that I had Ballard back as a friend. I was getting tired of our cold war. Whenever we passed each other in the halls he pretended to be engaged in conversation with someone else. It was a wonder he didn’t bump into everything. But then I realized that he didn’t want anything to have to do with me. The same with the rest of the werewolves, who kept themselves to themselves, even when the Gathering seemed to be taking on new life.