“We summoned the demon who left the mark on Tansy and Rhys showed up. Am I missing something that might be construed differently?” Ice practically formed on Terra’s tongue her tone was so cold.
“Yes. No. Terra, he never hurt that girl. He was trying to help. Why won’t you listen to me?”
“I’d rather hear it from him,” Grandmother spoke up. “And if he’s lying, I’ll know.”
“Are you implying Vaeta isn’t telling the truth? You know she’s bound by...” Terra fell silent when the implication of her own protest hit her. “Vaeta can’t lie.”
“No, but she can believe a liar, and it’s almost the same thing.” Mag pointed out.
“It is not the same. It’s totally different.” Vaeta protested, her voice shrill. “And he’s not lying.”
“You would say that, wouldn’t you?” Evian shoved in front of Mag and laid into her sister. “Airheaded twit. You wouldn’t know a bad intention from a left-handed narwhal.”
And there you go, name calling, the beginning salvo of every good faerie fight. The bad ones, too.
Instead of backing down, Vaeta snorted. “There’s no such thing as a left-handed narwhal, everybody knows that.”
“Enough.” The command that shocked the argument into silence came from none other than Violet Bloodgood. Surprised me, because I didn’t think she had it in her. “You stop it. Right now. It doesn’t matter whether she’s lying or not, or too dumb to see the truth. This demon is behind Tansy’s death, and he needs to pay for what he’s done. Margaret Balefire, weren’t you bragging just last week about your exploits with demonic forces? Do what you’re meant to do and take care of him. What are you waiting for?”
During the chaos that erupted, I forgot to wonder how Violet came to be summoned into the circle. Maybe that was what she wanted, but it was Serena Snodgrass who pushed things to the next level.
“Where is my mother?” She knocked Millie out of her way and went toe to toe with Rhys. “If you’ve hurt her in any way, you can consider yourself a walking corpse. Killing you won’t get me stoned since you’re not a witch, and I'm pretty sure I’ll have plenty of help.”
“Shut up, Ms. Snot-in-the-grass. You’re not much of a threat. What were you planning to do? Throw bubble gum at him?” There had been an incident between Serena and Vaeta and me that ended in a sticky mess. But that was before Serena had become a mother-to-be and everyone knows motherhood comes with a heightened desire to protect the young. I suspected Serena had more in her than she’d shown in the past.
Put a couple dozen keyed up witches in a room, add a few faeries and a demon to the mix, and you’ve got yourself a recipe for disaster. These women were out for demon blood and not especially interested in whether Rhys was guilty or innocent. Obviously, I didn’t know Vaeta as well as her sisters, and I didn’t like Rhys either, but she’d stood up for me on more than one occasion, and I’d heard her speak with great insight on people’s character. Were the other godmothers selling her short?
No, it had to be Rhys. It was his mark on Tansy. There was demonic evidence left at the scene of her murder. So, why was Mag standing silently?
Salem once said everything you need to know about someone is in their eyes if you take the time to look.
Look. Not listen, not assume, but look.
Tuning out the buzz and chatter of angry voices, I locked in on Vaeta’s gray gaze. What I saw there were an absolute certainty and trust in her own statements. My feet moved without me intentionally directing them, and Rhys fell under my scrutiny.
I got all up close and personal with him. Nose to nose, in fact.
One thing I know when I see it is love. It’s my stock in trade, my heritage, the mythology my life is based around. Rhys loved Vaeta. Enough to be a better man if that was what she needed. Enough to allow for the nobility of purpose. Enough to act in un-demon-like ways.
Everything else fell away as I trained my gaze on his and asked the simple question. “Did you kill Tansy Blankenship?”
Silent up until now, he mouthed a single word, “No.”
I believed him.
Sound returned to my world, but I knew it might be too late for the truth.
Clara
Violet, her voice shrill and strident, called for action, and the coven—my coven, witches I’d known for longer than a human lifetime or two, responded by showing all the signs of turning into an angry mob. Again.
A wave of women surged toward the edge of the summoning circle and would have penetrated its barrier if Mag hadn’t thrown out her arms. This was her thing; the job she’d left home to do and my first chance to see her in action. All the secret missions, the ones that cost her youth; I was about to finally understand why she’d chosen the life she had. My sister was going to pull out the serious magics.
“Um, Mag, are you sure you want to do this here?”
Too late.
I felt the crackling heat as Mag drew strength from the earth, from the Balefire, from the living gold of the summoning circle itself. She pulled out her wand, a lovely tool made from black tourmaline-studded gorse wood and tipped with a double-terminated chunk of rainbow obsidian.
Without so much as a backward glance, my sister knelt to press her right hand firmly against where one point of the pentagram touched the outer edge of the spell ring and laid the crystal tip against her own chest.
Golden fire lit the ring, casting a glow over Mag. Her head fell back, her mouth dropped open, and a small cloud of vapor issued from between her lips. A figure outlined in blue light rose above her head. A demon’s mark, the same one I’d last seen laid against Tansy’s skin, grew out of the mist and Vaeta shrieked.
“It’s not what you think. He’s innocent.”
“Shut up,” Mag said without any particular emphasis. The job done, her hand clutched my arm. I helped my sister regain her feet and supported her until she steadied. Every witch watched the lighted sigil intently as it turned in the air. Bit by bit the mark evolved from a demon’s signature to something else. “It’s not him,” she whispered in my ear, and we both went still.
A moment later, nothing remained but a fine, dark mist that seethed like a tiny storm cloud.
“Ostendium Nobis Cara!” The last time I heard a sound as pure as my sister’s invocation was when we presented Lexi to the Balefire. The day when it accepted her with the blare of a thousand trumpets. Some notes, imbued with nothing more than their own nature, carry the power to change the course of events. Others, like this one, carried more. Power—yes. Power to spare, but something else as well; a sudden knowledge or maybe the knell of fate.
Once activated with the truth, the circle decided Rhys didn’t fit the role of villain and ejected him without ceremony. Dragging Vaeta along by the hand, he flew out of there so fast his ever-present cowboy hat spun into the air behind him. The look on his face was priceless.
Skirting the now-empty ring, the cloud of mist fined down to a narrow finger and arrowed toward the last place in the room I would have expected it to go. Violet Bloodgood opened her mouth, took in the evil as though it were honey and nectar, licked her lips, and then looked back at me with a sardonically lifted brow.
“Didn’t expect that, did you, Clara? Miss high and mighty Balefire.”
Every one-sided conversation Violet had ever had with me during my passive years came back in a rush of clarity. I should have seen this coming. The veiled references to babies born on the wrong side of the sheets. I thought she’d been passing judgment on Sylvana, but she’d been talking about her own family.
Violet’s mother must have had an affair with a null. Wrong side of the sheets? Wrong side of the bed, the house, the world. Learning Hester Bloodgood broke taboo to consort with a magic-less man-witch shocked, then illuminated. Odd rumors and half-heard conversations about scandalous liaisons made sense to me now. A null/witch relationship would make Romeo and Juliet look like puppy love. Oil and water, fire and ice, these things don’t mix.
Not
having read the entire genealogy of every witch family going back through the annals of time, I wasn’t sure if there had ever been a witch/null match that resulted in anything other than a null baby and a Raythe. Leave it to Violet to flout convention by being born different.
Brains she lacked, but the power she had in spades. So many things started to make sense.
My understanding must have shown on my face because Violet practically cackled. “You should have stayed in your place and let everyone think you were made of stone. Fooled me, you did. Fooled everyone, I suppose. Going to cost you now, though.”
Buxom Barbie goes ballistic. Might be a good movie, but in real life, we had to put that witch away.
A snap of the fingers called Violet’s Raythe out of the ether. Crouched at her side, the thing preened while she ran fingernails around its ears and the coven, almost as one, took a step back.
No taller than waist level to Violet, it resembled a muscular gargoyle and looked like it should have been perched atop the balustrade of a vampire’s balcony.
“Your little pet looks like a half-breed to me. Not much of a threat,” Mag tossed off a sneering remark that sent Violet into a thunderous rage.
“Half-breed or not, you old hag, Ravana is more than capable of defending herself,” she screeched and faster than I could focus, the Raythe had my sister in her grasp.
Chapter Twenty-Three
THE PRIMARY USE OF a summoning circle is to contain that which has been called into its center. Violet had other ideas, and she didn’t hesitate to pervert its strength to her advantage. Stepping back over the edge to join her hideous pet, and channeling power into the ring of living gold, she raised a curtain of magic around herself that even two Balefire witches couldn’t cross.
Inside the circle, Mag’s feet thrashed above the floor as she struggled to keep her soul contained and intact. I saw death in Violet’s eyes. The evil scum wouldn’t even trigger the ultimate payment for the crime since it would not be by her hand the deed was done. I could hate her for that alone, but if my sister died, Violet Bloodgood would be my ticket to a proper stoning, even if it took a hundred years to make good on the promise.
Lexi, bless her, took charge of the coven during the moment I hesitated. “Come on, let’s pool our magic, just like before.” The slapping of flesh, palm to palm rang out as determined witches joined together to save one of their own. From one of their own, which felt like a major betrayal.
Millie took up the other end of the chain, the stony expression on her face a testament to the fact she hadn’t known anything about Violet’s history or involvement. Maybe I could forgive her. Later, when this was all over.
“It’s not going to work.” Even if I added my power to the mix, I could see it wouldn’t be enough. Not with the Balefire compromised. The Balefire. What if we put it out? No magic, no circle.
As if she read my mind, Violet shouted, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Ravana’s magic doesn’t come from the Balefire, and if you hurt me, you’ll just make her mad. She’s quite protective.”
Observing my expression, Violet grinned evilly and launched into a textbook example of when the bad guy in a movie has the upper hand and feels the need to gloat a little. Fine by me, while Violet focused on putting the rest of us in our place, Ravana took a break from trying to suck my sister’s soul. I’d take whatever small mercies were on offer.
“You’ll regret having been freed, Clara, and Tansy Blankenship should have minded her own business. Now you’re going to pay in blood, just like she did.”
“Are you going to slaughter the whole coven, Vi, and four elemental faeries while you’re at it? Let Mag go, and we can talk this through.”
“No way. She’s chock full of Raythe essence, and once Ravana consumes her, we’ll share in that power like we’ve always done.”
Now we were getting somewhere. The seed of an idea began to grow, and I only hoped my witchy intuition had correctly picked up a helpful tidbit of information. “What’s the problem, Violet, are you ashamed of your heritage, or just plain scared?” I goaded, knowing if I was wrong and didn’t hit the sweet spot between confidence and self-preservation to keep Violet talking, Mag was done for.
Violet blanched, “I have nothing to be ashamed of. My mother might have fallen in love with a null, but you lot have been breeding with humans for centuries, and nobody seems to care. I have been blessed with power and a Raythe to do my bidding. No other null-born has ever been able to say that. Ravana does as I command, and what I want right now is to see all of you kneel while you watch your precious Balefires become Ravana’s next meal.”
If Violet was telling the truth, she shared an unprecedented connection with Ravana. Without a precursor, it was anyone’s guess—including Violet’s, I hoped—what might happen to one if the other were harmed. We might be able to use that connection to our advantage if we could only distract Violet long enough to formulate a plan.
“What did I ever do to you, Violet? Please, elaborate. Because all I remember is treating you with patience and kindness. What has Lexi ever done to you? Or Mag? Or Millie, your best friend? And Tansy. How did that poor soul get on your bad side?”
“Shows what you know, Clara! Millie’s an idiot, just like the rest of you. I’ve had to hide what I am for fear of persecution since the day I Awakened. Ravana has been my only true friend and companion, and that meddling little Tansy poked around in the records. When she found out about my father, she showed up asking if a null-born could have magic. I only wanted to keep her quiet, but she wouldn’t listen. Ravana knew what to do, and now I’ve got Tansy’s soul and her power. There’s nothing any of you can do to stop us!”
LEXI
“Lexi!” I heard my name and started to turn toward the source, somewhere just behind me and to the left.
“No, don’t turn around. Act like you can’t hear me.” Evian’s voice hissed, apparently from the mother of pearl barrette I’d used to clip my hair back earlier in the day. In a pinch, it seemed she could use any shell to communicate. Good to know.
“Vaeta has something to tell you.”
“Rhys is...Well, it’s complicated, but he’s a member of the Inter-Magical Alliance, and he’s been tracking that Raythe for months, but he did something wrong, something you won’t like, and he’s very sorry, and he hopes you can forgive him, and me. I hope you can forgive me.”
“Get to the point, Vaeta.” I heard Evian hiss the words I was thinking. A tide of fury constricted my chest as it rose up and threatened to unleash the baser side of my powers. It wouldn’t be the first time; Serena Snodgrass could bear witness to what happens when my magic goes dark. Violet wasn’t worth risking my soul over, but Mag was family, and I would not let Ravana have her. Especially when it sounded like Violet’s next move might be to sic the thing on Gran and me.
“Anyway, when Rhys found Tansy’s body, he figured out the Raythe was attached to a witch, so he took some of the Balefire thinking he could take care of everything without anyone else getting hurt. It was wrong, and he’s been trying to put it back, but someone kept showing up every time he got near the fireplace, and then there was the fight, and now he thinks giving it back is the only way you’re going to be strong enough to take down that shield, but he doesn’t dare to try in case Clara freaks out.”
How she could talk so long without taking a breath was beyond me, but then again, Vaeta’s element was air, so maybe she had more control over her use of it. And besides, what did she want me to do about it now? My face was practically pressed to the shield and Violet had her beady eyes on my every move.
I gave the tiniest shrug I could manage, barely a twitch of one shoulder, and then listened as a short argument raged in whispers. By slow degrees, I turned enough to see my godmothers, who appeared to be standing silently. Clearly they were using glamour to disguise their heated conversation, so couldn’t they just do the same thing to keep Violet from seeing Rhys pass by? Or what about Soleil. Now that I knew how
much they’d aligned themselves with the Balefire to keep it going during my—let’s call it a dry spell—she must have some special affinity with it now. If the four of them, for once, could quit arguing, I’m sure they could figure out a way.
“...built like I am, people automatically think you’re an idiot. Just because I have big boobs doesn’t mean anything.” I heard Violet say and nearly snorted. I was pretty sure her boobs were way bigger than her brains, but this wasn’t the time for my stupid sense of humor to show itself.
It did give me an idea, though. Villains like it when you stroke their egos, so I took a chance. “Violet, it’s obvious you’re no disco bimbo,” I said, putting a slight emphasis on disco. If the faeries were listening at all, they’d get the reference to that time when the clash between air, fire, and water ended up creating what I’d humorously dubbed the Faerie Disco Battle. Bubbles of water and air with a spark of Soleil's flame had been the good thing to come out of the fight and we liked them so much the light balls had become part of our celebrations.
Violet looked at me like I had two brain cells left.
“Oh. That might work.” I heard Vaeta say in my ear. It took all of half a minute before they worked out a plan. Soleil manipulated the stolen Balefire to fit into a bubble made from Vaeta’s air. Evian coated the bubble in water so clear it had a mirrored finish. As Vaeta gently wafted the enclosed Balefire toward the ceiling, Evian worked the surface, so it reflected whatever was above and behind it. You’d have to know it was there to see the mirage shimmer as it passed overhead.
Violet missed it, but then, she was focused on the sound of her own voice and the airing of petty grievances going back to childhood. Every witch in the room made her list; even my inability to mature at a time convenient to her was a problem. Like it was my fault.
No Chance in Spell Page 19
