Arcane Circle c-4

by Linda Robertson

  Minutes later, a truck rolled by with a giant cake pan on the trailer. “Any guesses what that’s for?” I asked.

  “Not a clue,” Maxine replied.

  Donning my flannel, I headed for the door. The sentinel blocked my path.

  “You can come with me, or you can piss me off trying to stop me. Which is it going to be?”

  “Give me two minutes to re-secure the doors and windows so we’re certain your home and grandmother are safe in our absence.”

  “Or Zhan could stay here while you escort me.”

  “One against that many Beholders?”

  “Heldridge’s men may not even be a threat. And if they are, they’ve been up and working eight hours already.”

  “We are both going with you.”

  I shrugged and conceded. With a dog treat for Ares in hand, I told Nana what we were doing. Maxine locked the front door, then we headed out to the garage, intending to exit via the man-door. On a whim, I halted our little parade to fill a gallon-sized bucket with dog food.

  Maxine and Zhan waited for me, both with guns drawn. I appreciated that they took their duty here very seriously, but their bared weapons didn’t make me comfortable. “Is that absolutely necessary?”

  “Better safe than sorry,” Maxine said and opened the man-door. She locked it behind us and we walked toward the construction.

  After we located Mountain and waved to get his attention, he walked over to us.

  Behind me, Zhan gasped as she took in the flock of birds, strolling like peacocks from the far end of the grove. Their flame-colored feather configurations were brilliant in the afternoon light. “Phoenix?” she asked, incredulous.

  I nodded. The unicorns and griffons remained hidden within the grove. The dragons were near the edge, curled in big piles.

  “They’re eager to get into their coop,” Mountain said. The metal roof on the aluminum shed was being attached as he spoke. “They must know it’s theirs. They keep meandering out to have a look at it.”

  He gave me a brief update about pipes being laid in trenches below the frost line. Goddess help me, but Johnny’s dirty mind was rubbing off on me; nearly all of the report sounded like innuendos.

  “What is that?” I pointed at the newest arriving truck, backing into position according to the commands of onlooking Beholders. Before Mountain could reply, the answer hit me. “A swimming pool?”

  “For the dragons.”

  “Dragons?” Zhan echoed.

  “There. They’re sleeping.” Mountain pointed to where the dragons lay. They looked like coils of giant drainage tubing. “Once we get the pool installed and filled, they’ll be much happier.”

  “Did they eat?”

  “Ten cases of those little cans of tuna! I think I killed the hand-crank can opener. I’ve got someone trying to contact the Cleveland Metroparks Zoo, to ask about their suppliers. Bulk frozen fish would be far less hassle.”

  The animals were being taken care of, their shelters were coming along fast, and Mountain had it all under control. Speaking of eating … “You’ll have dinner with us, right?”

  “There’s no need to go to any trouble on my account.”

  “You don’t want me to go to any trouble? Look at all this.” My hand flapped at the scene around us, and I nearly dropped the bucket of dog food. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

  Apparently, griffon hearing is good enough to detect the rattle of kibble amid a cacophony of construction. Thunderbird emerged from the edge of the grove. The griffon arched his neck in my direction.

  Immediately I started toward him. The sentinels followed.

  As we neared, I held out the bucket. “You want this?”

  Thunderbird lurched forward eagerly and his lame paw caused him to stumble. It looked as if he was about to attack.

  We all halted, but movement to my right caught my attention and I realized that Maxine had raised her gun.

  The griffon recovered his balance and stopped.

  “Lower it,” I whispered. “Get back.” On my left, Zhan backed up several paces. The griffon considered Maxine with a steadiness that had an undeniable cognizance behind it.

  She lowered her gun and stepped back.

  “C’mon, Thunderbird.” I shook the dog food again. “This is all yours.”

  His one golden eye assessed me in an altogether human manner, not at all like a bird. He came to me, dipped his head into the bucket, came up crunching.

  I couldn’t resist stroking those black feathers gently.

  He jerked away, but did not retreat.

  “Sorry,” I whispered.

  In one swift movement, his beak darted in, wrested the bucket’s handle from me, and swung it away from me. He limped deeper into the grove, tail twitching irritably.

  Mountain returned to the worksite. Maxine and Zhan followed me across the field.

  I’d hiked only a dozen yards when my back pocket erupted with the guitar riff and chorus of AC/DC’s “Back in Black.” I took another step before I realized: The protrepticus is ringing!

  CHAPTER NINE

  Stopping in my tracks, I jerked the phone out of my pocket and flipped it open so hurriedly I nearly dropped it. Samson D. Kline’s voice hailed me. “Heads up, little girl; Xerxadrea’s body has been identified.”

  The phone issued a burp of static and the screen went black. I shook it, closed it, and opened it again. No light at all and no chance to ask him how the protrepticus could still work.

  “My lady?” Maxine prompted.

  “Nothing.” I pushed the phone back into my pocket and hurried on.

  As we crossed the yard, a dozen witches swooped down from the sky. My sentinels raised their guns once more and, again, I insisted they put them away. This time my most authoritative facial expression accompanied the words, “Holster them, now.” The sentinels obeyed.

  The witches hovered above my grass. That they did not dismount their brooms meant they weren’t staying. That they wore their formal black robes and charm-bedecked pointy hats meant they were on their way to or from official business. Thanks to my phone call, I could guess what.

  Foremost was Vilna-Daluca. Ruya, the raven that once sat on the shoulder of the Eldrenne Xerxadrea, now sat on Vilna’s shoulder. The rest of them were high priestesses, members of the lucusi that I’d had the honor of being a member of … for about twelve hours. They had given me my own flying broom, amped up my house wards, and promptly severed their ties to me as Xerxadrea had instructed them when they learned I’d become Menessos’s Erus Veneficus. Ranking witches didn’t allow status, titles, or respect to witches who used their power in service to vampires.

  Only Menessos and I knew that my becoming EV had been Xerxadrea’s idea and she had intended that severing to be temporary. She knew my role as EV had many purposes, and that Menessos’s “benefit” was the least of them. She’d assured me of this as she lay dying, having taken a bolt of fairy fire to save me.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure, ladies?”

  Vilna-Daluca dismounted her broom and advanced, steps soft and certain. She stopped before me, expression blank. Her long hair was loose, straight, smooth, and so white against her black robes. I was searching for a clue, scrutinizing the set of her mouth, the hazel of her—

  She slapped me. Ruya screeched.

  Before the bird could resettle its feathers, Maxine had her gun to Vilna’s temple. She cocked it for emphasis.

  I recovered. “Max, put it away.”

  “But—”

  Without shifting my focus from Vilna, I said, “Either you do as your Erus Veneficus commands, or you suffer the consequences.”

  I hadn’t pulled rank to threaten Maxine before. She obeyed.

  Citing my rank, however, didn’t please the Elder before me. Blame hardened Vilna’s features. She whispered hotly, “We protected you!”

  She was referring to the witches having aided me during the battle. “And I am grateful for that.”

  “Grateful?”
Her lips barely moved as she snarled the word at me.

  Jeanine glided close. In a voice meant to lure jumpers away from high ledges, she said, “Our actions were still in the best interests of the council.”

  Vilna-Daluca shrugged her off brusquely. Silent teardrops slid down her cheeks. She cleared her throat. “What came before is what Xerxadrea wanted. Out of respect for her, I leave it.” Her words cut like a keen-edged blade. “I leave your wards and even the elementals, as you are evidently accomplishing their house and, I assume, their care. But I am telling you now, before these witnesses: henceforth, we are enemies. Do not call on us. Do not expect our favor. What we had is gone.”

  Xerxadrea was right. Vilna hadn’t asked me what happened, so it was clear she had her mind made up—without the facts. I considered defending my actions, but she needed someone to vent her grief upon more than I needed to be vindicated. Maybe in time …

  I bowed my head slightly. “Blessed Be, Vilna.”

  She mounted her broom and took to the air. The rest of the lucusi followed.

  * * *

  Knowing Beverley wouldn’t recognize the Audi if I let one of the sentinels drive me to the bus stop, I hurried inside to get the keys to the Avalon. Nana was leaning against the counter in the kitchen, arms crossed, slippered foot tapping again. With a jerk of her head she indicated the yard beyond the kitchen windows and demanded, “What was all that about?” Her tone was clipped, as if trying to decide whether to sound angry or sad.

  So much for her good mood I tried to preserve.

  I shook my head, searching for words. Upon coming home after the beach battle I’d promised to tell her and Beverley everything that had happened. In the telling I’d admitted we buried Aquula at the Botanical Gardens, but I had left out the fairy attack that followed. If I’d revealed Xerxadrea’s sacrifice, I would have broken down. It wasn’t that I didn’t want Nana to know, just that I wanted to wait until the sting of that loss wasn’t as sharp before I spoke of it.

  Nana continued. “The news just announced the body found in the Botanical Gardens Friday night was the Eldrenne Xerxadrea. I knew they’d said the gardens had been broken into and that a body had been found, but I guess it was in my mind that they had found the body of the fairy or something.”

  My chin dropped almost to my chest.

  “Did their visit have something to do with that?”

  I nodded.

  “She struck you… .” Nana’s crossed arms fell limp at her sides. “There’s more to the story than you told me.”

  I bit my lip and nodded again.

  She snorted. “Makes an old woman wonder what else you’re keeping secret.” She shuffled out.

  The hurt in her voice was like another slap in the face. Not only had I not told her about Xerxadrea, now I’d not bothered to mention Eris had showed up after ignoring us both for damn near twenty years. I’d just won myself an all-expenses-paid guilt trip.

  There wasn’t time to fix it right now, so I grabbed the keys and left. The day had started with such promise, and then gone steadily downhill. Now it’s officially an all-out disaster.

  Zhan elected to ride with me to fetch Beverley from the bus stop. My having wrongly snapped at her earlier left me feeling too guilty to refuse.

  “How did you come to have those creatures?”

  I had expected Zhan to make some inquiries, and was glad her curiosity was focused on the animals and not my mother. “Their forefathers were stolen from this world millennia ago by the fairies. We kind of inadvertently stole them back.” The explanation was radically over-simplified, but true.

  “We?”

  “Many people played a part.”

  “Menessos?”

  “Yes. He was a part of it.”

  “He knew?” The blame in her tone wasn’t ambiguous. “He knew these creatures were real?”

  Oh hell. I couldn’t be honest with her. No one was supposed to know he was the original vampire, and that he was there when the fairies entered our world. Though he was unaware the fey were taking these elementals from our world at the time, he did know of it later.

  Will today’s disasters never end? “We only found out yesterday morning when the fey showed up with the elementals,” I lied.

  Nana had put something into the oven while Zhan and I were gone, and now it smelled wonderful. I sat at the computer working on my column and, to counteract all the terrible things that had happened today, I was imagining this was just a normal evening for a normal family at home.

  My make-believe was more convincing because Nana had gone upstairs to quilt while dinner baked, and the kiddo was doing homework at the dinette. The phone had rung a few times—Nana answered the cordless upstairs—but other than that, everything was quiet. Peaceful. Normal.

  Then Nana trudged down the stairs and began fixing something to go with the scrumptious-smelling dish in the oven. She must have decided we should have a side of Raucous with Earsplitting Sauce—because she was being anything but quiet.

  At the dinette, Beverley twisted around to watch Nana clanging pans. That caught my attention; it didn’t surprise me that Nana would be this angry with me, but to show her anger to Beverley was unexpected.

  Two could play the not-talking-but-not-silent game.

  Pushing away from my desk, I stretched, rose, and left the computer. Johnny’s stage pants were done in the wash and I decided to be helpful.

  Once the dryer was jingling and thudding with the studded and chain-adorned clothing, I joined the kiddo. Even with a cantankerous old woman battering my cookware and some knight’s battle armor apparently rattling in my dryer, I kept telling myself we were just an ordinary family … until the Beholders began filing out of the field and boarding the bus parked out front.

  Ordinary families don’t have the Regional Vampire Lord’s servants building barns in their backyard.

  The thuglike men from Heldridge were as dirty as Menessos’s men, but they were moving much more stiffly. Some were inspecting their hands and I recalled Mountain saying they’d have blisters.

  There was no evidence of animosity among them; it seemed from their behavior that some had made friends with Menessos’s men. That was encouraging. I needed something to go right today.

  Mountain brought up the rear, talking with a wiry older man. Mountain pointed at the house and the two of them approached the new foundation with a tape measure out.

  “What are they doing?” Beverley asked.

  The phone rang. Nana moved to answer the long-corded kitchen phone.

  “Making plans for Nana’s room,” I whispered.

  Beverley nodded. “What’s got her so grouchy?”

  “Dunno.” I wasn’t going to tell Beverley that Nana was mad at me because I’d kept secrets from her. I didn’t want to be the do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do brand of foster mother. “How’s the math?”

  “Easy.” She wrapped her arms around me in a hug. “I’m so glad I’m here, where the unicorns are.”

  “Me, too.” I rubbed her back. “How’s the history?”

  “Same.”

  Seeing how small, innocent, and eager to please she was, my heart ached. How could anyone ever treat a child wrongly? Beverley wasn’t even my child but I couldn’t imagine hitting her or locking her in a room. Sometimes I doubted myself as a parent, but unlike my own mother, I’d never resented the existence of the child in my home, or wished that she weren’t here.

  I can’t fess up about Xerxadrea or my mother now. With the snit Nana’s in, that additional information might turn the kitchen into a war zone. Maybe tomorrow.

  Behind me, Nana hung up the phone with more force than necessary, and shuffled back to the stove, grumbling. Beverley peered up at me questioningly.

  “Must’ve been a sales call,” I whispered.

  The buses were leaving. I moved into the bench seat across from Beverley, where I could evaluate Nana.

  That was when the sun sank away; I knew it because I felt Menessos awaken scre
aming in torment, felt him suck down his first breath of this night, felt him whisper my name as he regained control of himself. That sensation of filling up, of being whole, returned. A few deep breaths later, my body felt equalized.

  Mountain left his muddy boots at the front door and entered the kitchen in sock feet. He washed up at the sink—he was so tall and thick that he didn’t fit in the little bathroom under the stairs. “Where’s Johnny?” he asked.

  “I don’t think he’s going to join us,” I said. “He’s still at the memorial for those lost on the beach.”

  “Mountain, you’re in charge of security for now,” Maxine said, coming in from the living room where she’d supervised the Beholders’ departure via the window.

  “The head count on the bus was the same for the number that arrived,” he said.

  “Noted. We’re going to check the perimeter and then get supplies.”

  Nana set the casserole dish she’d just taken from the oven onto the stovetop. “Will you eat?”

  That’s my Nana. If she didn’t like someone she could give them the cold shoulder all day, but when dinner was served she’d still expect them to eat. She’d be mightily offended if they snubbed her dinner in retaliation.

  “No, thank you. We’re going to make our rounds, and get some supplies. We’ll eat while we’re out. See you in two hours.”

  Nana wordlessly transferred the meal onto the plates, but clanking dishes and spoons voiced her irritation for her.

  I meant no insult to the sentinels, but some time away from them suited me just fine. Having lived alone for a few years before Nana moved in, sharing meals had developed into a special activity.

  Mountain sat in the chair adjacent to Beverley’s. I was in the back corner on the bench. Nana served everyone a plate of salad, crusty bread, and a chunk of her casserole, then slid in beside me. Beverley appraised the food on her plate, dissecting it with her fork to inspect the layers. “It smells good, but I don’t know what it is.”

  “My mother called it mousakas kolokythakia. It’s moussaka with zucchini.”

  “I like zucchini,” Beverley said. “My mom used to slice it and fry it.”

  Nana pointed at her. “She gave you more than a beautiful face and a sweet disposition then, young lady. She gave you variety in taste. Good for her, and good for you.” Nana dug into her food.