“Ever wonder why I don’t see any use in congregating and electing leaders? It’s this kind of idiocy. Where on earth did you get the idea this family owes you something for nothing? That you,” an arthritic finger waved around the room pointing at the loudest complainers, one after the other, “or you, or you should be able to enjoy the perks of being a witch while the Balefires shoulder all the responsibility? Shame on you. Shame on you all for being such sniveling pansies.”
Just because her insults were from the 70s, didn’t mean they weren’t warranted.
“Wake up and smell the potion, ladies. Flame feeds the witch, and that’s all you can seem to grasp, but the other half of it is that the witch feeds the flame. What have you given to the flame lately, Millie? Or you, Winnie? How dare you come into our home and run your fat mouths as if you had a right to or deserved something for nothing? Serve you right if we shoved you out the door and washed our hands of the lot of you.”
“She’s right.” A tiny voice spoke with more command than I would have thought possible, considering the source—Serena Snodgrass. The last person anyone had expected to speak on our behalf, and the one person who might be able to shut them all up. “None of them are responsible for the death of Tansy or the disappearance of my mother. I think I’d be the one to know, and I’m definitely the one who is going to report to your high priestess when she returns. It’s up to you what I tell her: either get behind us or get out of our way.”
Us? Serena considered herself part of us? Wrapping my mind around that one was going to take a circus-worthy bit of flexibility.
When Serena linked her arm with mine, I couldn’t help wanting to cheer. White hair flying around her head like dandelion fluff, Mag winked at Serena, then shot her nose up in the air so she could look down its length. “What do you say, Clarie? Let them swing on their own rope?”
“Tempting as that might sound, I think we’d better put them to use instead.” Clara joined her sister on one side and motioned me to take my place on the other. “If you’re all done whining now, can we get on with the business at hand?”
Thoroughly cowed, the three-quarters of the coven who were currently crammed into the hallway nodded, and we stepped back to let them into the house proper.
Chapter Twenty-Two
CLARA
The only other time the Balefire burned this low was when Lexi failed to promptly reach magical maturity—and while I'd forgiven, I still hadn't forgotten my sister's part in that fiasco. My turn at being keeper hadn’t been nearly as eventful, and I squashed the tiny, competitive voice inside me that wanted to crow about it.
Still, according to Lexi, it had never been as bad as this. Why? Because of the faeries. Poor girl had no idea what her godmothers had done, what they’d given up, to take care of her and to keep the flame going.
Tied to her charge on a magical level, that affinity meant Terra's cost was lower than the other two, and for Evian, to link with her polar opposite affinity must have been incredibly difficult. If I had to guess, I'd say Soleil would have paid the least, but she probably also shouldered the biggest burden. A remarkable effort for which I should remember to thank them as soon as the current emergency passed.
“Go get the faeries, please, dear girl. We’re going to need them.” Mag caught my eye, and we had one of those unspoken conversations sisters sometimes have. Her eyes widened, and I knew she understood what I meant to do. Maybe not all of it, but enough. “I hope it’s not too late.”
“Too late?” Lexi tossed the question over her shoulder and hurried to do as I asked while I stepped up onto the hearth to get a better view and turned to face my coven. Millie fidgeted under my scrutiny, and I wondered where her other half had gone to ground. It wasn’t like Violet to miss out on anything noteworthy, and if I’d had the time, I might have given more than a moment’s thought to her absence. As it was, worry would have to take a back seat.
“Okay, ladies. You know the situation, and it’s not good. If we don’t act now, we’re sunk, so listen up. Every witch has a spark in their blood—the essence of magic that comes alive when we Awaken. Right now, that spark is all we have left, and we need to feed it to the Balefire. All of it, and I hope it’s enough.”
“Will it work?” Winnie’s voice sounded stronger than I’d ever heard it. She must be one of those women who wimps along through life but thrives under pressure. Good for her. Maybe some of that pluck would rub off on Millie, who seemed to be going to pieces. “What will happen if it doesn’t?”
“We all know what will happen if the Balefire goes out, don’t we? That’s why we carry the damnable flame all over the blasted world. Whether this plan will work or not is anyone’s guess, but I don’t see any other option. I assume none of you have a better idea?” I glanced around the room at faces carefully shuttered, “No? Okay, then.”
“Gran?” Wings drooping, their bright colors fading to shades of gray, three faeries clung to Lexi with tiny hands gone pale enough to be almost translucent. They were running out of time. We all were.
“It’s going to be okay.” Please let it be okay.
“I think they’re dying. Can faeries die?”
“Shh.” It felt like we were the only two people in the room as I stepped down from the hearth and comforted my granddaughter by putting an arm around her as best I could and giving her a squeeze. The contact also gave me an excuse to brush up against each of the faeries and assess how much magic they still carried. Not as much as I hoped, but it would have to do. “Let Mag take them. I need you with me.” When she hesitated, I gently helped make the transfer and pulled Lexi back to the fireplace.
Keeping my tone brusque to push back emotions that might otherwise overwhelm, I ordered my coven to do the one thing I never thought I would be called upon to do.
“Join hands everyone, and give me everything you’ve got.” I reached for the witch nearest me and prepared myself to become the focus for all the magic we could pull together. Lexi, beginning with my sister who, I can freely admit, is the stronger of the two of us, did the same on her side of the room.
Hand joined to hand, and as each set of fingers entwined, magic grew from the smallest of sparks to a candle-sized flame that had better be big enough to rekindle the Balefire. When Millie and Winnie joined hands, they completed the chain that started with me and ended with Lexi, and I knew we were going to run short if I didn’t strip the elementals of their connection to the Balefire.
I gave Mag the nod, watched as the faeries collapsed against her, and hoped I hadn’t misjudged. Lexi would never forgive me if she lost her extended family. An oppressive silence fell over the room as if magic had taken a breath and left a vacuum in its wake, and then all spell broke loose.
The spark zipped toward Lexi, then reversed and raced down the line in my direction. If the situation hadn’t been dire beyond the telling of it, I might have chuckled at the expressions I saw as the power traveled down the chain like an electric shock. Millie looked so flummoxed; I thought she might have peed her pants a little.
It wasn’t as funny when the jolt hit me, and even less so when it arrowed back down the line leaving a trail of exclamations behind it. Until that moment, I’d have bet against Winsome Warner knowing any four letter words, much less daring to say one out loud.
“Gran, what should I do?” Lexi sounded panicked, and no wonder, the faeries clinging to Mag were losing consciousness. Should that be happening or should removing their connection have restored them? I could speculate later if they survived.
“I don’t know. This isn’t what I...” and then it hit me. The magic, searching for a focus, had sensed the presence of two keepers and was trying to choose between us. “It’s seeking its master, Lexi. One of us needs to step up as Keeper. Permanently. It’s time to decide.”
Keeper was only part of what Lexi would be putting on the line. This decision had far-reaching consequences for her relationship with Kin. I’d wanted her to have more time to decide, but that’s
not how things work sometimes.
“Do it. You were here first. I'm the one who should let go. I want it to be you.”
Now, Mag might have more divination skills than me, but I can spot a lie at fifty paces.
Did I want to be Keeper again? Lexi would end up with the job at some point anyway, so maybe she would appreciate a chance to leave home and see the world. Despite my boast in front of the coven, travel really wasn’t my thing. At least, that’s what I had thought. But now, faced with the choice I realized that twenty-five years of standing in one place had ignited a spark of curiosity. It would be nice to see something outside the confines of the eastern seaboard.
What? How come I didn’t know that about myself before? Mag was the one who craved freedom, not me. Until now.
“Look at me.” Of course, my granddaughter obeyed the order; she had grown into a lovely and respectful woman, no thanks to me. “Tell me true. Do you want the Balefire?” Wasting any of the precious magic on forcing her to speak her mind became unnecessary when eyes drenched with unshed tears met mine.
“Yes.” That was all I needed to hear, and letting go of the duty I’d carried for many a year turned out to be as simple as willing it so. I pushed the crackling energy her way. It shot like a miniature rocket through her body and out the finger she pointed toward the fireplace. Sparks erupted with a blinding flash and noise that pulled at the eardrums. I heard buzzing and then cheering.
“It worked,” Mag pointed toward the roaring blue flames and stated the obvious as she so often does. It’s one of the things I love about her. Magic swelled, as did cheers from the coven. When I checked on them, the faeries were back in their larger forms, and Lexi ran from the room trailing sobs behind her.
“I’ll be right back.” I followed my heartbroken granddaughter out into the backyard, watching in fascination as it expanded and bloomed back to life. When this day was over, a painful conversation with Terra and her sisters about severing their connection to the Balefire rose to the top of my to do list. They’d served Lexi well—gone above and beyond anything I could ever have asked of them—but her conscience would never have given Lexi peace if I’d let anything happen to them. None of that negated the fact I should have asked their permission before I ripped away that connection.
I found her huddled in the hushed silence under the spreading canopy of a weeping willow. She flinched under the hand I laid gently on her shoulder.
“Lexi, what is it? Everything is all right now.”
“No, it’s not. I should have said no. I should have done the right thing, but I was selfish. Now you’ll hate me and so will Kin.”
“Come now, that’s not true.”
“Yes, it is. You should have been the one. Not me. The Balefire needs someone strong like you. Look at the mess I made of things. I took it away from you when I knew you wanted to be the Keeper. I should have stepped aside.”
Silly child. I gave her a shake. “Did I say I wanted to be the Keeper? You assume too much.”
“I...what?”
“I don’t want the job.” Enunciating carefully and following each word with another shake, I talked sense into my granddaughter. “You try standing in one place for twenty-five years and see if you don’t want a change of scenery at the end of that time. I love you with all my heart, and this will always be my home, but I’ve got a hankering to see the world.”
“You do?”
“Are you certain you don’t?” What we’d just done had repercussions for both of us. “Your young man seems to be going places, are you sure you wouldn’t rather be completely free to follow him?”
“I’m a Balefire. Living up to my name is all I’ve ever wanted—even when I didn’t have enough power to make a frog sneeze. This is where my work is, it’s where I belong. You’re sure? This is okay with you, too?”
Why does everything have to be a drama with this generation?
“I’d be happy to fire-sit from time to time, but I’m excited to see what freedom tastes like. Cross my heart and hope to fly.”
Lexit's mouth dropped open. “You can do that? Fire-sit, I mean.”
“Yes, of course. I might not be the reigning Balefire, but I’m still of the blood, and that’s enough to let me be a substitute once in a while. What? You thought this was an all-or-nothing situation?” It wasn’t magic, or the Balefire, or the demigod inside her that made Lexi’s hugs feel like being blanketed with love, it was her heart.
“I love you, Lexi. To the moon, to the stars, to the bottom of the sea.”
“To the top of the highest mountain and the edge of the universe,” she added and it felt like we’d made a pact or a vow. The kind that can’t be broken, even in death.
“We’ve got a house full of witches and another job ahead of us, are you ready to go back inside?” Keeping an arm around her shoulders, I led Lexi back toward the house. Mag’s people skills were practically non-existent, so leaving her in charge of things was only good for the short term. Like ten minutes or less, and we were straining at the edges of the limit already.
Lexi
Aunt Mag does dirty looks almost as well as Terra, even if hers don’t carry actual dust and grime.
“If you’re finished fooling around with the touchy feelies, maybe we could concentrate on the bigger picture here? There’s no telling how long the magic will last, so let's get moving.”
“Yes, Aunt Mag. I’m sorry.” Minor fib there. If Gran was happy with me being the official Keeper of the Flame, I wasn’t one bit sorry for how it came to happen. Okay, maybe telling Kin I had just tethered myself to the area semi-permanently wouldn’t be a walk in the park, but if Gran agreed, I’d take a week with him in the middle of his tour. Sometime after Samhain.
“What’s next?” About half my attention focused on making sure my faerie godmothers hadn’t taken any permanent damage during the time without magic. The other half tuned in on the short but heated conversation between my grandmother and aunt, who talked in some kind of sisterly shorthand.
“We could...”
“Yes, but what about...”
“Then we’d better...”
“Okay, let’s do it.”
They seemed to have the situation well in hand even if I had no idea what the ends of any of those sentences might have been.
“Ladies, if you’d kindly follow us,” Clara reached toward the handle concealed within the fireplace, and I think I was the only one who saw the split second of hesitation before she surrendered her fingers to the flame. Can’t say I blame her for that. With the Balefire acting like it had a bad case of PMS, anyone with half a brain would be cautious.
The door to the sanctum opened smoothly, and if I felt a little bit like the fly entering the spider’s web, it was only because the memory of those walls closing in around me was still crystal clear. Right down to the lump in my throat and the shiver in my hands.
Suck it up, Lexi. Witches are not wimps. Especially not Balefire witches.
“As you can see,” Gran motioned to the alchemy lab and the long wooden table strewn with open volumes where we’d spent hours researching demonic symbols for the past several days, “we haven’t been sitting around with our thumbs up our behinds. Mag, explain your findings to the coven, so everyone understands what we’re dealing with here.”
“Listen up, ladies, because what I think we’re up against is something even I couldn’t predict, and that’s saying something. We found evidence of a demon presence at the scene of Tansy’s murder, and there was a demon mark imprinted on her flesh—but it gets worse.”
Mag had to hush the group as a flurry of gasps erupted, “We also isolated traces of Raythe essence, and the best we can assume is that the two are working together.”
“But that’s not possible...” Winnie practically shouted, an edge of hysteria creeping into her voice, “you assured us you had dispatched the last of them.” Her eyes narrowed, and I prepared myself to battle more accusation and criticism.
“There
are no absolutes, Winsome, and you know as well as I do that a new Raythe can be born anytime and the family might feel too ashamed to admit to loosing a scourge upon our world."
The simple truth shut Winnie right up and Aunt Mag continued.
"If a demon has tied himself to a Raythe, one summoning will kill two birds with one stone. Either woman up, or walk away. Your choice.” Looked like Winnie was good for showing strength through one tragedy a day, and then it was back to normal.
Mag extracted a tiny bottle from a pocket deep within her robes and motioned for everyone to arrange themselves around the raised platform in the center of the sanctum, “You too, Terra, Evian, and Soleil. We’re going to need every bit of juice we can squeeze.”
“We wouldn’t have it any other way.” Terra’s eyes met Mag’s in an unspoken promise.
“Here goes nothing,” Mag took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Her eyes turned black and rolled backward as a stream of glittering red and black mist expelled from between her lips.
Rising power closed my throat and made my lips tingle until they itched. Gray smoke furled out of the pentagram in the center of the circle my great-grandmother, Tempest, had set into solid stone by magical means. If you tell my grandmother this, I’ll haunt you when I die, but I squeezed my eyelids almost entirely closed and only peered through the tiniest of slits, and if I could have pinched my nostrils closed without anyone noticing, I would have done that, too.
I’d never seen a Raythe before; what if they steal a witch’s soul through her eyes or her nose? Not a chance I wanted to take.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Evian’s disgusted exclamation popped my lids open, and I silently echoed her sentiment when I saw the three figures appear as the smoke wafted away.
Vaeta, Rhys, and Violet Bloodgood blinked and rubbed stinging eyes.
“It’s not what you think.”
Vaeta spoke at once, but Violet wasted no time stepping away from the center of the circle. Something about the look on her face when she lifted a surprisingly dainty—given the size of her other accouterments—foot over the rim of the circle betrayed strong emotions. She probably felt distaste at being in such close proximity to a demon. I know I always felt that way around Rhys.
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