The Brotherhood of the Snake (Return of the Ancients Book 2)

by Carmen Caine

  “You must assume Sydney’s identity until we return, Brock,” Rafael was addressing the Protector crisply. “And you must not arouse anyone’s suspicions. Proceed with great care.”

  Brock bowed his fair head and again slapped his arm diagonally across his chest.

  I felt a huge wave of relief to hear Rafael talking about me returning. So it was possible to get back! I shot both Rafael and Jareth a dark look, annoyed that I’d fallen for their bickering but then from the corner of my eye, I saw Brock beginning to glow.

  Astonished, I whirled to see a shimmer of golden light emanating from his skin to flash into a brilliant white light that consumed him entirely.

  After a moment, the light faded, and I was staring at myself standing in my room.

  Chapter Six – The Red Sky

  My mouth dropped open.

  Brock had just assumed my identity.

  “Keep it simple, Brock,” Jareth inserted in a snide manner. “Keep it very simple, especially in school. Sydney doesn’t even try, and she isn’t all that friendly from what I’ve seen.”

  I was too shocked to be insulted, though I did take note to confront Jareth about it later. I was too astonished to watch myself salute and head out of my room. A series of disjointed images appeared of me walking through the house, transmissions from random mirrors that my double happened to walk by.

  A moment later, my impersonator arrived in the family room.

  Grace was still texting as Betty laughed along with her show.

  “I’m tired,” my substitute announced with a yawn. “Think I’ll go to bed.”

  “Night, dear. Grace is going to bed soon, too.” Betty glanced up and smiled absently. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, Sydney! I forgot to tell you that Samantha’s expecting you at the coffee shop tomorrow after school. One of the girls called in sick.”

  My double hesitated only a moment before nodding. “No problem, I’ll be there.”

  Grace waved absently as I watched myself pivot and return to my bedroom.

  The Protector’s original form shimmered into existence.

  “Stay in character, Brock,” Rafael ordered, waving his hand.

  The image on the mirror began to fade as I once again saw myself sit down on the edge of the bed to pet Ajax as he leapt up to wag his tail in greeting.

  I frowned.

  Ajax obviously knew it wasn’t me or he’d never be wagging and acting so giddy.

  The mirror went dark.

  It only took a moment before the full horror of it hit me. “You can just get rid of me any time you want, and they’d never know!” I gasped.

  “Why bother?” Jareth chortled, enjoying my reaction. “If I were to expend my light impersonating another, I’d certainly pick someone far more interesting than you.”

  “Have a care, Jareth,” Rafael warned coolly.

  But I wasn’t about to let their squabbling distract me this time.

  “How did he do that?” I demanded to know. If they could shape-shift, they could be anybody, take anyone’s place at any time, and I’d never know the difference.

  I eyed them both with a growing sense of alarm. How did I even know they were who they were now, or if they really were themselves at all?

  “The Fae can control their sense of Light and use it for such things as shape-shifting when necessary,” Rafael offered in a pacifying tone apparently meant to calm me down.

  But I wasn’t interested in being calmed. “And those sparks you shoot out of your fingers?” I asked, growing even more agitated.

  Those sparks were a lot more powerful than I’d realized.

  “Prana sparks?” Rafael inclined his head. “They’re also the Fae sense of Light. Humans possess this sense as well, but as a race, you’ve yet to discover that you have it.”

  “Huh?” I blinked in surprise at that statement. I’d never shot sparks of light out of my fingers.

  “Prana sparks are gained through balance, forming the stuff which humans call ‘magic’,” he explained patiently, “Some humans have begun to sense this. There are references to the sense of Light throughout your culture. Some have seen it and named it ‘auras’. Others use it and call it ‘sixth sense’, though their mastery of it is crude at best. The sense of Light is capable of so much more. We can heal, communicate, phase-shift, and change shape through the mastery of its vibrations.”

  He was losing me. I shook my head. “Are you trying to convince me that humans possess the ability to shape-shift and bop around the planet at will?”

  “Perhaps one day, if you awaken to your potential.” Rafael smiled a little.

  I eyed him skeptically and blurted, “How do I know you’re even you anymore? If anyone can look like anyone, I could be talking to Marquis!”

  In my unguarded moment, I let his name roll off my tongue with as much distaste as I truly felt for him.

  Rafael didn’t miss it. He winced.

  Jareth chuckled.

  “You would know.” Rafael shook his head. His voice sounded a little stilted. “Your sense of Light—also known as intuition in your world—would tell you something was wrong.”

  I scowled, not entirely certain I trusted my intuition to that extent. After all, on Earth we’re pretty much trained to ignore it in favor of facts. Still, I added, “Then if what you say is true, Al will certainly know it isn’t me. I think his intuition is pretty good.”

  “Undoubtedly!” Rafael nodded once in agreement.

  I stared at him, assuming he’d promise me that I’d be home soon, but he didn’t. My mood darkened. “Well, at least Brock will be stuck taking my math test,” I grumbled. “Maybe he can finish school for me.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of letting that happen,” Jareth inserted, his lip lifting into a devious grin. “I wouldn’t let you fall behind in your studies. In fact, I’d even tutor you here, Sydney. I could use the entertainment.”

  I sent him a dark look, and I was preparing to direct my best glower at him when I recalled the image of him standing in the desert with a single tear trickling down his cheek. Apparently, there was more to Jareth than met the eye.

  As Rafael returned to his mirror, Jareth followed him and as they began another heated discussion I leaned my pounding head back onto the couch and closed my eyes, promising myself that I’d rest only a moment.

  And it seemed only a moment later that I found myself annoyed by something tickling my cheek.

  Groggily, I waved a hand in front of my face to brush it away.

  To my relief, it left.

  I was just on the verge of sleep once again when it returned to tickle my nose.

  It took a supreme act of will to open my eyes.

  There was a feather in my face, and behind it loomed Jareth’s kohl-rimmed eyes and sarcastic smirk, planted mere inches away.

  Slowly, I lifted my head from the black leather couch, my lips briefly sticking to the leather where I’d apparently been sleeping with my mouth open, drooling for quite some time.

  “Charming,” Jareth observed in a mocking tone. “That’s a nice puddle of spit.”

  I scowled. “You’re insufferable,” I accused peevishly. “I can’t believe I used to be your biggest fan.”

  He laughed. “Now, that’s something I don’t hear very often. It’s ordinarily the opposite. Once my fans meet me, it’s then they swoon and fall truly helplessly in love.”

  I glared, not in my best of moods and mumbled, “Rafael doesn’t seem to love you much.”

  His smirk didn’t even twitch, but contempt burned deeply in his eyes. “It’s still early. Let’s not spoil the day by bringing up Rafael.”

  I sat up, glancing around. “Where is he?” I asked, ignoring his suggestion.

  And then I caught my reflection in the mirror. It succeeded in rousing a startled expression on my face. Dark, smudgy circles ringed my eyes, and on one side of my head, my hair stuck out at right angles. The hair on the other side was plastered flat to my cheek.

/>   Apparently, sleep had done little to restore me.

  My clothes were wrinkled, and I was missing a sock. After a half-hearted attempt to comb my hair with my fingers, I gave up and turned back to Jareth.

  He was watching me with a grin. “I’ve never met a female less interested in her appearance than you, Sydney.”

  “Coming from you, I know that’s meant to be an insult, but I’ll take it as a compliment,” I replied, blowing my hair from my eyes.

  He bowed, appearing delighted. Stalking to the mirror, he waved his hand. “The streets will empty soon. Maybe then we’ll have an opportunity to escape this tower.”

  “Escape?” I latched onto the word, waking up instantly.

  But he ignored me, and I forgot about pushing him for more details as the mirror glowed and portrayed a view of the outside.

  Avalon was an astounding place.

  In the distance, I could see the floating islands drifting by with their vine-covered, wispy towers, reminding me that I was once again on a floating island myself, inside a similarly delicate tower.

  The two moons were high in a sky filled with the blue, butterfly-winged dragons that I’d seen before, and the streets surrounding the tower were still crowded with elaborately dressed Fae.

  Not long ago, I’d danced through those streets with Rafael as we’d made our way to jump off the spiral staircase ending abruptly in mid-air, far above the City of the Queens.

  My stomach flopped. I wasn’t good with heights. I didn’t relish the thought of skydiving without a parachute again.

  “Do we have to jump?” I asked, licking my suddenly dry lips.

  Jareth eyed me curiously. Apparently following my thoughts, his face lit with comprehension. “No, we’ll take another route.”

  I turned back to the mirror, watching the Fae dancing in the streets. There were a lot of them, and then I noticed something odd.

  They were all dressed in white.

  “What are they doing?” I asked, pointing to the growing crowd. “And why are they all wearing the same color?” From what I’d seen of the Fae’s obsession with fashion and their highly differing opinions about it, I knew that it had to be something particularly compelling to get them all to wear the same color at the same time.

  “Astutely observed.” Jareth chuckled again. “It’s a sort of holiday.”

  I eyed Jareth suspiciously. He was in an exceedingly great mood this morning. It made me wonder what he was up to.

  “What’s a ‘sort of holiday’?” I prompted when he didn’t continue.

  “Hardly a holiday,” Rafael’s voice interrupted.

  I whirled to find him staring grimly at the mirror, holding a covered tray. He’d renewed his eyeliner and applied a bold pattern of swirls around his left eye that trailed all the way down his cheek. He’d also changed his clothes, sporting a gray tuxedo jacket with a low-cut black tank top and blue jeans.

  Eyeing the tray, I was suddenly very hungry, but then his words belatedly piqued my curiosity. “What do you mean ‘hardly a holiday’?” I asked.

  Grimly, he set the tray on the center couch cushion and scanned the crowd in the mirror. Pursing his lips, he shook his head from side-to-side, as if searching for an understanding. But judging by the way his eyes hardened, he didn’t find it.

  “They’re fools, the lot of them,” he finally muttered under his breath.

  “There’s power in a symbol.” Jareth settled comfortably back onto the couch, lifted the cloth from the tray, and began poking through a plate of what looked like colored cubes of gelatin.

  “I’ll never be the symbol they want,” Rafael announced with a tone of finality. “I’ll never throw Avalon into another war.”

  Jareth shot him a quick glance. “And the Inner Circle?” he pressed acidly. “What if that’s their plan?”

  Rafael’s head jerked back and he clenched his teeth. “I refuse to participate in your delusions a moment longer, Jareth! Yes, I stated I’d investigate the Inner Circle and that I believe they exist, but they aren’t so grand and all-powerful as you apparently believe. They’re not master puppeteers, directing the strings of every Fae in Avalon. The Passing of Cor has been observed every year since his death and that was hundreds of years ago! Long before the birth of the so-called Inner Circle, isn’t that so?”

  Jareth didn’t respond. It was an annoying habit. Whenever someone said something he didn’t like, he just ignored the entire exchange.

  Finally, I broke the silence myself. “The Passing of Cor?”

  Apparently, Cor was a topic that Jareth was interested in.

  Sitting up a little straighter, he nodded at the white-clad Fae in the mirror. “Cor,” he repeated the name, pointing at Rafael with his chin. “He was Rafael’s forebear, King of the Fae, and the descendant of Queen Morgan le Fae. And most importantly, he was a Pure Blood, as is our precious Rafael. Every year, the Fae dress in white and throng to Zelphie and Rafael, his last living offspring, to demonstrate their support and desire that Cor’s descendants rise to retake the throne.” He eyed the mirror in disgust. “The crowds grow larger every year.”

  It was odd to think of Rafael becoming King of something. It didn’t seem real. I watched the Fae in the mirror shout for him as a sudden thought popped in my head. I frowned.

  “Won’t it be harder to escape when they’re all out there looking for him?” I asked. Recalling their abilities, I added a little self-consciously, “Oh! I forgot you can shape-shift.”

  “A Fae could never fool another Fae by shape-shifting,” Rafael replied, clenching his teeth tighter before confronting Jareth, “Escape?”

  He said the word with such aggravation that I found myself thrown into a confused mix of emotions. Apparently, he wasn’t on board with Jareth’s idea of an escape plan.

  “We’ll have to wait until they leave before making any attempt,” Jareth yawned, unperturbed, pointing to the demonstrators milling about in the streets below. “Their dedication is growing. They want their Pure Blood on the throne, or shall I say the Inner Circle must be escalating their plan?” He gave a scathing laugh.

  Rafael’s jaw muscle twitched, and I figured with the way he’d been grinding his teeth the last few minutes that he’d soon not have any teeth left. I wanted to talk more about escaping, but I guessed I should let Rafael cool down a little first.

  As Rafael and Jareth began glaring at each other again, I returned to the couch and helped myself to a red square of the gelatinous substance. It tasted just like strawberry Jell-O. “What’s this?” I asked.

  “Strawberry Jell-O,” Rafael replied tersely, folding his arms and keeping his eyes fastened on Jareth.

  “You’re kidding!” I laughed a little in the attempt to lighten the atmosphere. “Do you have like a black market for Jell-O or something?”

  They didn’t share my amusement. In fact, they were back to ignoring me again.

  I just sat back and watched them in astonishment.

  They really were horrible teammates, nothing like the counterparts they were supposed to be.

  But then, they were both cursed like I was.

  They were both Blue-Threaded.

  I scanned the mirror again, recalling the myriad of lines that I’d seen over Jareth’s head the night before, and the single Blue Thread weaving through them.

  What did my Blue Thread look like?

  How many fate lines did I have hanging over my head?

  Suddenly, I wanted to see them.

  I was just about to ask Rafael if I could have a look when the mirror went dark, and suddenly I was looking at myself in the mirror.

  I heard Rafael’s sharp intake of breath followed by Jareth’s gasp, but I wasn’t really paying attention to them.

  I was staring at an image of myself from the past, right before I’d moved in with Al and Betty.

  I was sitting next to my mom, Maya, as she was being admitted into the rehab center. But this time, above my head, I could see a complex web of white lines
. And like Jareth, one of them was blue.

  Only, his Blue Thread had been the same size as the other lines.

  Mine was huge and more like a blue neon sign hanging over my head. It seemed at least a foot wide and it shot straight up, disappearing into an inky black cloud at the edge of the mirror.

  I shivered.

  No wonder the Fae had been worried about me.

  “Why’s it so big?” I whispered hoarsely. “It isn’t a line. It looks more like a road! It’s at least a foot wide!”

  When no one replied, I glanced over my shoulder, but Jareth and Rafael weren’t looking at the mirror.

  They were staring at me.

  I suddenly felt scared. “What’s wrong?” I asked, my voice shaking a little. “Did my Blue Thread really grow?”

  When they still didn’t reply, full panic set in.

  “I made the wrong decision, didn’t I?” My lips were so numb I could scarcely form the words.

  I wanted to cry.

  Rafael stepped forward to softly lay a comforting hand on my shoulder.

  Even Jareth looked a bit sympathetic.

  “No, Sydney,” Rafael reassured me. “You’ve yet to face your challenge.”

  “Then my Blue Thread’s always been that big?” I squeaked. “How can you call that thing a thread? It’s huge!”

  His eyes filled with compassion. “We didn’t want to frighten you.”

  “Oh? You didn’t want to tell me that I had an entire Blue-Threaded tapestry hanging over my head?” I tried to laugh. I really don’t know why. It wasn’t a laughable situation. “Why’s it so big? What does it mean?”

  I could tell he didn’t want to answer me. He looked like he’d much rather be anywhere else. But he finally admitted, “We aren’t certain as we’ve never encountered this before. Most likely it’s related to the magnitude of your decision.”

  I glanced back at myself in the mirror again.

  If that was true, then I was going to affect a lot of people.

  I felt sick. My decisions weren’t just about me anymore. It was weird to think that I was responsible for so many people. It didn’t feel real. In fact, none of it felt real, from the Tulpa to the lizard people.