Blood Solstice: Part Three in the Tale of Lunarmorte

by Samantha Young

  “Next?” Benedict sneered at her.

  “When the trace is gone, what next? We’ll be free, but the war as it stands will still exist. How do we end this?”

  “We don’t,” Benedict retorted sharply. “The details of the war will be left for the Council to deal with.”

  “Now Benedict-” Penelope began but Caia wanted to speak for herself.

  “You mean you intend to use me and then discard me?”

  “No, Caia,” Penelope rushed. “That is not at all the intentions of the Council.”

  “I think Caia should be put forward for a place on the Council,” Vanne interrupted.

  A place on the Council? Caia stared at him wide-eyed. She hadn’t meant that as such but… well actually… it was an idea. If she were a member of the Council she would have a say in how they went about ending the war. She could have an impact on the treatment of Midnights and Daylights alike.

  The Council gazed at him open-mouthed for a moment, before Marion cleared her throat, “I agree with Vanne.”

  He glared at her. “I didn’t ask you to.”

  “Well I do,” she snapped irritably, muttering under her breath about idiots acting like children.

  Benedict was outraged. “How dare you suggest such a thing?! There are only nine places on the Council and those have been filled.”

  The young magik, Derren, cleared his throat and everyone turned to face him. He was an enigmatic man and appeared only to ever speak when he had something of import to impart. “I agree with Vanne and Marion. Caia is too valuable a member of the Daylights to throw her back out to the wolves. She should be an integral cog in our machine, as she has already proven her worth tenfold.”

  Wow, she must be way cooler than she thought she was because that was mighty praise indeed.

  Shocked silence settled around the room. Finally, Alfred stood up. “Well… if it would be the will of the Council I suggest we at least discuss the possibility of adding Caia to our noble ranks after the rite has been performed.”

  “Here, here,” Penelope muttered and a round of the same followed from the rest of them. Well… all except Benedict who was content to skewer Caia with his gaze.

  ***

  The rite was not to be performed before the entire Centre as the Acquisition of the Trace Ceremony had been. It was a private ceremony between Caia and the gods, and so she was led to the deepest level of the Centre where makeshift caverns were sculpted into the building like damp, salty-smelling sea caves. The goddess Gaia, unlike Zeus who had roamed the skies, preferred enclosed spaces, and so it was often thought appropriate to perform any rites to Her within dwellings like a house or a cave.

  “Are you ready?” Penelope asked her softly as they stood inside the humid space, waiting as the torches were lit around the area for Caia.

  She nodded, shivering a little with nerves. Or cold… she was completely naked beneath her blue robe (significantly missing the gold Fasces on the left breast).

  “We’ll be back out at the elevator. Waiting.”

  She nodded again and watched silently as Penelope and the two magiks who lit the torches fumbled their way out of the dark caves. Taking a deep breath, she turned back to gaze at the almost circular room. In the middle stood a tripous (Greek for tripod) – a three-legged sacrificial altar with a large stone basin upon it. Carved into stone were the names of the living gods accompanied by a prayer to them to hear her. With great trepidation Caia removed the dagger from her robes, and then removed the robes themselves, standing shivering and as naked as the day she was born. Thank goddess she got to perform this one alone. She actually blushed even though there wasn’t anyone else to see her.

  Well except the gods, Caia, she reminded herself.

  Tentatively, she approached the altar, wincing a little at the gritting sand and stone beneath her feet. And, even though she knew it wasn’t possible, she swore she could hear the rush of the ocean in the distance. It was so weird.

  Standing before the tripous, Caia raised her hand over the bowl. She was utilising her other hand this time, the one with the annulet. She took the dagger and sliced deeper than before, cutting through the silver symbol on her palm, ignoring the searing pain it caused. The blood trickled into the bowl. Once there was enough, she morphed her hand to wolf and back again, regenerating her skin so only a faint red line was left. Exhaling, she then placed the tips of her fingers into the blood and pushed a flow of her magik energy into it.

  “Mother Gaia, hear my plea. I ask that you take back the gift of trace from your children and let us live liberated in a new world… forever your undying servants, forever loving.”

  Over and over she repeated the words the Council had advised her to use and for a while it seemed as if their endeavour was futile. But on the tenth round of the rite Caia felt the beginnings of an inexplicable shudder jolting through her. At first she thought the ground was actually moving, but as she looked down she found it still as glass. A fierce jerk knocked her back from the altar and she began to shake uncontrollably. Panic suffused her as her teeth chattered together and her brain jiggled about in her skull. It grew fiercer and more painful, feeling as if her very organs were smacking up against her bones and muscles. And then the eye watering pain began. If felt as if someone had grabbed a hold of her insides and were pulling them out of the top of her head, the energy encased in her body being shunted upwards and out with supreme force. She thought she might be screaming but the chaos of her body left her ignorant to anything else. She writhed helplessly on the floor of the cavern… until a sudden stillness drew the pain to an abrupt end. Caia sucked in a deep breath, air rushing into her panicked lungs with joy and relief.

  She nudged around with her energy. A giant, exhausted grin spread across her face. Caia would never have thought she would ever be this happy to be so alone inside.

  The trace was gone.

  ***

  Jaeden shot up from her chair at the exact same time Lucien did. At the exact same time shocked exhalations poured out of the pack as they gathered together in Lucien and Caia’s suite, waiting for the rite to be over. An electricity had tingled through her nerve endings in one sharp, smooth manoeuvre, and an instant understanding thrummed in her being. It was like an IM from the gods explaining in one concise note that Caia Ribeiro, the half-magik, half-lykan, had existed as both Heads of the Covens and had just given the trace back to the gods, unbinding them all.

  “You felt that?” she gasped around at them all. They nodded totally bemused.

  Reuben glanced between them and Laila. “There is no longer a hum in your energies to tell me who is Daylight and who is Midnight.”

  “Yeah cos’ it’s gone,” Jaeden explained. “And it came with a message about Caia and her giving up both traces. Telling us we’re free.”

  “Which means the Midnights probably felt it too.” Lucien shook his head in amazement, gazing at Laila for confirmation. She nodded her head slowly.

  “They’ll know about Caia?”

  “Yeah, they’ll know about Caia,” he confirmed.

  Jaeden trembled and lowered herself slowly to her seat. What did this mean? Now the supernatural world understood with perfect clarity that there was no trace and no longer any Head for either coven… was the war teetering on the edge of the end… or standing on the precipice of bloody disaster?

  ***

  Caia stumbled back out of the caverns, her body shaking uncontrollably. As she approached Penelope and Alfred waiting for her by the elevator with guards she tightened the robe around her.

  “What the hell is going on up there?” Alfred was yelling at the wall.

  Huh.

  Then Caia noticed he was pressing his ear and she realised he was wearing one of the ear pieces she remembered some of the staff wore at the Centre.

  “Well, shut down the portals until we can sort it out!”

  Oh goddess what was going on?

  Alfred threw up his hands in frustration. “Well, take those w
ho have already gotten in into the Court. But lock down those bloody portals before every Daylight on earth shows up!”

  “Caia.” Penelope came towards her pale-faced and took a hold of her arm to steady her. “Are you alright?”

  Well I was until I saw you guys. “I’m fine, what’s going on?”

  Alfred grimaced. “We have a problem.”

  “I’m getting that. What’s going on? The gods took the trace back… I thought we would be good after that.”

  Penelope shook her head. “The gods removed the bind from us all. We all felt it.”

  “You did?” Caia asked amazed.

  “Yes. But it came with a message about you being Head of the Daylights and Midnights, of what you are and how you had given the trace back to the gods. The Centre has been bombarded with supernaturals demanding to know what is going on.”

  Holy Artemis. Oh this was a problem.

  “Do the Midnights know?”

  Penelope grew even more wan. “I think we better talk to Laila.”

  29 – Method in the Madness

  Frustration tickled beneath her skin as she skimmed another page. Nothing! The history section in this library sucked. Caia groaned and waved her hand above the table, a glass of water materialising in front of her. She gulped it down hoping it would renew her energy.

  The last few days had been exhausting to say the least. Along with the Council she had had to retell her story thrice over to large groups that visited the Centre, demanding answers as to who she was and why the trace was gone. Caia wasn’t shocked. A good population of the Daylights had known of her existence, but there were those who lived quiet lives away from the war who were blissfully unaware of her. But now they knew and they seemed to know a Hades lot about her… including this miraculous power she seemed to have that no one else did. Some were hostile, but for the most part she was a curiosity and pretty much their saviour. Freeing them all from the trace had brought untold happiness to many of them. There were the more conservative supernaturals who believed strong leadership had been the key to winning the war, but for many it had been an invasion of their privacy. Once the excitement and buzz had died down, however, the questions such as ‘What next?!’ came battering down on them. Would the war go on as it was? Would the soldiers continue to train at the Centre? Or was the idea to infiltrate the Midnights and find out how they were handling things?

  For the Council it was yes to all of the above. Saffron had been sent in with a few other top faeries to spy on Orina Beketov and the Midnight Council. The report came with the good and the bad. The chaos of discovering Caia’s existence, that Ethan and Marita were dead, that there was no longer the trace to bind them together in war had put a temporary stop to Midnight attacks again – days before their attack against the Krôls was meant to take place. The bad news was Orina Beketov wanted to continue her war against other supernatural races and was gradually winning over a very confused Council. The Daylight Council took this to mean the war would go on as it had done, and had recommenced classes at the Centre. Caia wasn’t as convinced. In fact, she had an entirely different idea. She knew from having had the trace for the past ten months that the Midnight Coven was saturated with people who would gladly welcome peace. An idea was brewing in her busy brain, one she had imparted to no one, not even Lucien. But the library where she hoped to discover all she needed to know was proving infertile.

  Ugh, she really didn’t want to have to turn to Reuben for this one. But it was looking more and more likely.

  “You look annoyed.” Phoebe MacLachlan strode through the doors into the empty room, her dry tone somewhat relaxing after having been in the library by herself for hours.

  Caia nodded and slammed the book shut. “I’m not having a good research day.”

  The Rogue Hunter slid into the seat opposite her. “What are you up to, Caia?”

  Damn the lykan. She was nosy and perceptive and persistent to a fault. She was also extremely trustworthy, and Caia counted herself as one of the lucky few that Phoebe trusted and respected.

  “I have a plan.”

  “I’m listening.”

  When Caia was done Phoebe threw her a look that would have been a smile if the lykan had known what one was. “You need to look in the archives.”

  The what now? “Huh?”

  Phoebe rolled her eyes and stood to her feet, gesturing for Caia to follow her. She wound her way through the dark aisles of books until they came to the back wall of the room. All Caia saw was another row of bookshelves. She would be wrong.

  Phoebe approached the middle of the aisle and reached up to pull on a thick bronzed leather tome. A creak, followed by a rumbling shudder seconds later, and the middle of the bookshelf opened inwards like double doors.

  Caia’s jaw dropped. “How did you know this was here and I didn’t?”

  Phoebe shrugged. “I assumed the archives were public knowledge.”

  “Uh-uh.” Caia followed her into a beautiful, well lit room with no exit. In the middle was another library desk with green bankers’ lamps, and bordering the entire room were shelves of books. Walking behind Phoebe, she felt her gaze falling to the mosaic floor where different tales of the gods were depicted in stunning colour and splendour. She winced at the sharp tap her flat pumps made against what was surely a masterpiece and should never be trodden upon. Phoebe didn’t seem to be as bothered.

  “Here.” She indicated a row of books. “You should find what you need.”

  “Phoebe, I need this to stay between us until I’ve done my research.”

  The lykan nodded, her mouth firm and her eyes guileless. “Of course. It could be a very good idea, Caia.”

  She smiled wryly. “So if they say yes, you’re in?”

  Phoebe snorted, “If there’s a fight, then I’m in.”

  ***

  “You want to do what?” Benedict screeched at her and Caia had to stop herself from laughing at his outrage.

  So the Council were looking at her with a mixture of awe and horror. That could mean anything right? Lucien was smiling up at her encouragingly along with Marion and Reuben. Vanne seemed to be chuckling as if he couldn’t quite believe her gall.

  “I think it’s the only way to end this,” she insisted.

  “It’s completely insane and out of the question!” Benedict bawled.

  Caia narrowed her eyes on him. OK, he wasn’t so amusing anymore. He was just plain annoying. “Last time I checked there were eight other people on this Council with a vote.”

  He growled at her, “By all means let us see you humiliated by the rest of my colleagues for your depravity.”

  She gasped, “Depravity? I’m not depraved just because I have the courage to actually do something about ending this war!”

  “Benedict,” Vanne warned quietly. “Insult her again and you will have me to answer to.”

  Caia flushed under Vanne’s protectiveness but was glad for it because the warlock immediately blanched and sat down. Despite his place outside the Council no one had forgotten how powerful Vanne was. Caia noticed Marion throwing him a mournful look. Caia sighed. After this was all over she was going to have to do something about those two.

  “Yes, let’s be civil,” Penelope agreed, before looking up at Caia with worried eyes. “This is quite a proposal, Caia.”

  It was. It really, really was. After the trace had gone, Caia had begun to think about a measure that would help sort the wheat from the chaff. No matter what happened there was going to be bloodshed but Caia reckoned it would be better if the bloodshed happened in one fell swoop and gave them the closure they needed to begin to build a new world for supernaturals. She began to think about the battles that must have been fought many years ago, when honour had been settled on the battlefield. The history books in the library had been of no real use until Phoebe had taken her into the archives. It was there she learned of the spells cast to summon both Covens to a battleground that had been cast in protective magik, shielding it from hum
an eyes. There, those brave enough to fight would convene, and a great bloody battle would be fought until one side had destroyed the other. It was a mighty style of warfare in which even the faeries – who were utilised only for spying now – shifted into their animal of choice and took part in the combat.

  Caia believed they should cast the old spell calling to those Midnights who had no intention of ever making peace with the Daylights to fight them on the battlefield.

  “Caia, most, if not all, of the Midnights will show up because their pride and superiority will expect no less of them,” one of the older Council members insisted gravely. “We’ll be completely outnumbered.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “You have to trust me. When I had the trace I felt them all. I felt such a need for accord, for unity and harmony in them, that it broke my heart. There are thousands of them who will meet us on that battlefield, who will never see us as anything but lesser beings, but there are thousands of them who will stay home and who will wait for us to come to them with an offer of peace. Let us destroy those who stand in the way of that.”

  She saw the glimmer of hope in their eyes, their indrawn breaths, the way they leaned forward into her words. They wanted to believe but were so afraid of it.

  Trying to contain her excitement, her desperation, Caia lowered herself into a seat before them, her eyes wide and honest. “Have I not proven myself to you time and again? Do you not trust me to protect out people?”

  Penelope nodded, her eyes shining bright.

  One down.