by Patti Larsen
Applegate went on.
“Is it true?” All innocence and fake concern. She turned to Mom with a little moue of shock. “Did the Brotherhood kill your Enforcers and take control of the stronghold?”
I'd never heard a gasp that loud before, as though each and every person in attendance drew a breath at once. The sides of the tent swayed from the change in air pressure as the focus turned to Mom and crushed down on her like the weight of the entire world.
Mom did nod at last, hands still and silent in her lap as she acknowledged the fear pushing against her. “It is true,” she said. “For now.”
The sigh following stirred the gathered magicks, woke the wild ones still hovering against my skin as though needing my warmth and presence to ease their pain.
“I see.” Margaret frowned, turned to the gathering. “And she claims she is able to keep all of us safe. When she can't even protect her own territory.”
Bitch. Bitchy bitchass mother witch of a bitchbag.
Before Mom could say anything, as the gathered magic users absorbed what Margaret said, she smiled. Beamed. Raised both hands.
“Fear not,” she said. “For there is another explanation for all of this.”
Mom’s eyes locked on mine.
Syd, she sent. I think I know where this is going at last.
Then she was way the hell ahead of me.
Do not, she sent, under any circumstances, react. Do you hear me? Just trust this is necessary. And will hopefully show us what the Brotherhood is after here at conclave.
There was her “hopefully” again.
Wait. React? To what?
I had my answer a heartbeat later as a gaping black hole opened in the middle of the empty center of the pavilion.
And Liander Belaisle strode through.
Choke. Gasp. Snarl.
Syd. Mom's power slammed against me, pinning me to the back of the bench as my egos fought each other for the right to kill his arrogant ass. He's not here.
He. Was. Right. There.
But no. No, Mom nailed it. An illusion stood before us, a projection he sent through the unnatural gash he'd made in the veil.
Coward didn't even come himself.
Fear pulsed through the crowd, but no one moved. Not while he smiled up at Margaret, then turned in a slow circle, his projection spinning until he bowed to Mom.
“Allow me to introduce myself,” he said.
“I know very well who you are,” Mom said.
“Of course you do.” He turned, met my eyes. “Ah, Sydlynn. Delightful.”
Just let me go after him, my demon hissed. In and out, Entrails 'R Us.
“I'm afraid you've been misinformed,” he said to the gathering as though not needing me to acknowledge his greeting. “As usual, my people are vilified, stories told out of turn by a handful of vindictive witches.”
My stomach cramped as my demon roared and surged against the confines of Mom's magic.
Remember, she sent. To most of the witches here, the Brotherhood are just a dark sect of sorcerers, more a myth than reality in their closed-off lives, not the enemy we’ve come to despise. Only we have had real contact with them and understand the impact they have on our planes.
Us. And Applegate.
“As it turns out,” he went on, “we're not so bad.” He ran both hands down the front of his double-breasted suit coat, flashing another smile. “We just want to get along.” Tell me the conclave wasn’t buying this slick delivery? “And the accusation of our 'attack' is unfounded. As I can explain, if permitted?”
No one argued. I think partly because, if my allies were like me, they couldn't muster a word to say.
Belaisle took the quiet for acceptance. “To do so,” he said, “will take a proper address of your fine conclave.” His smile turned down to an artful frown. “I can't tell you how hurt I was to be overlooked for an invitation to this lovely get together.”
Mom's power retreated. Okay, she sent. Kill his ass. Make it look like an accident.
Too late, and we both knew it.
Margaret gestured to the gathered leaders. “The circumstances of Master Belaisle's arrival may be unusual,” she said. “But we have allowed other races and magical powers to attend our conclave. Would it be right to exclude the Brotherhood?”
A vote. All righty then. He'd have his ass kicked and I could go after him.
Alone.
And screw the prophecy.
Panic set in as hands rose to contest it. Meira, of course. Chambrelle for Sunny. Oleksander with a nasty expression on his face. Mom. And Odhran.
Not enough. Damn it, what the hell?
Was Mom really right about the witches?
“And all in favor?” Margaret's sickening smile told me what I already knew as hands shot up.
Every Council but Mom's. Aoilainn, I'm sure just to piss off her Unseelie cohorts. And, to my utter shock, Eva Southway.
Belaisle's smile widened, cream and cats coming to mind. “Your faith in me is appreciated,” he said. “My party will arrive presently.” He turned and bowed his head to Margaret who returned the gesture before he vanished through the black hole.
Which remained, gaping emptiness taunting me.
Maybe this was a good thing. If he was here in person, I could slice and dice without having to chase him down.
Mom, I sent. Haven’t you warned them about the Brotherhood? What the hell had she been up to all these months?
Of course I tried, Mom sent, her exasperation coming through. Boy, was it. Might as well beat a brick wall with a soggy noodle for all they listened.
I’d beat them, all right.
If it doesn’t impact their little circles of influence, they bury their heads in the sand and sing nonsense until you go away. Her anger dissipated, turning to disappointment. We’ve become so afraid of being noticed, of being discovered, taught so well to hide who we are as a race, we witches no longer can see trouble even when it’s delivered to us in a hand-wrapped package.
My knee bounced so hard the heel of my foot hurt from the impact.
We have to do something. Warn them again.
I wish it were that simple, Mom sent. I fear our need to go unnoticed is our greatest weakness.
Maybe I could change that. Peel away Belaisle’s skin so the gathered witches could see just what he was made of.
Figuratively. Of course. The real skinning would come later, in private, where my demon could enjoy herself without being interrupted by people screaming and throwing up.
Wouldn’t you know, Margaret thought of everything?
“Only one matter to bring up before our Brotherhood friends join us.” Applegate jabbed a finger in my direction. “It is very well known Sydlynn Hayle has a grudge against the Brotherhood in general, Liander Belaisle in particular.” From the bemused looks on the gathered witch’s faces, it was no such thing. Mom was right. Clue. Less. Applegate went on anyway. “It is my belief his life will be in danger if she is allowed access to him while he attends conclave.”
You bet your booties, lady.
I choked on fury while she cornered me as neatly as Mom did the werewolves the day before. “Since there is precedent set,” she said, “I order she be held responsible for his safety during the course of this conclave and, should anything happen to him or his people, she be held to the fullest extent of our laws.”
“Considering you don't preside over this conclave,” Mom said, voice dry and heavy, “your order is denied.”
I could feel the argument coming, but was forced to sit there with my mouth shut.
Or blurt something unfortunate.
“We don’t want our guest to feel unwelcome or in danger,” Margaret said, changing tactics. “Knowing Coven Leader Hayle's power, she is the only logical one at present to ensure Liander's safety.”
While the other Council Leaders balked at Margaret's heavy-handedness, they softened to this argument. Which made me grit my teeth in frustration.
Damned witches
were all the same.
Mom's power scorched the edges of mine, but in anger at the situation, not at me.
“Very well,” she said. I'm sorry, Syd, she sent.
Don't be, I sent back, mind churning over the possibilities. At least this way we'll have him where we want him when the time comes.
Mom's power withdrew as her lips curved into the barest smile.
I had a feeling I'd have help stripping his skin from his body one tiny piece at a time.
***
Chapter Twenty Six
Mom broke the conclave for a half hour to have a pavilion erected for the Brotherhood. I held my seat, eyes locked on the gaping hole where Belaisle and his people would soon emerge and struggled to keep my cool over Eva Southway's betrayal.
She reached for me with her sorcery before I could decide whether Piers would still be interested in me if I murdered his mother.
We'd lost anyway, she sent. And I, for one, would prefer to have Liander Belaisle in reaching distance.
Except he's coming here with a plan, I shot back at her, hating she was right. And previous experience tells me whatever he has up his ugly designer sleeves will make your little attempt to corner him look like a sixty-year old pageant queen on crack.
She laughed softly in my head. I've had doubts about my son's interest in you, she sent. And now I understand what he sees, what I missed. She paused. I have absolute faith you will prevail, Sydlynn Hayle. The rest of us are simply at your service.
I glared at her even as she tipped her head to me and went back to speaking to Felix.
Hrumph.
Mom was just settling into her seat again when the black pit pulsed and Liander walked out, a small group of Brotherhood at his back. I recognized the bully from the lab immediately and, to my shock, another familiar face.
Rupe was with him. Once my friend, the Goth known as Blood, tied to Mia when she was Pain, Rupe had been manipulated by Ameline, and, thanks to Belaisle, uncovered his own sorcery.
And joined the wrong side.
The tall, well-dressed young man waved at me with a grin, and Mia’s defection suddenly made all the more sense. Her Pain to his Blood. She’d always thought he was her other half. Was broken when his parents moved and they were parted.
I guess she never did get over him. And now, thanks to Belaisle’s conniving, she had to think trading sides meant having Rupe back, too. Though he had to have promised her magic.
A double header Mia would have never been able to resist.
I flashed my teeth, leaning forward until Sass hissed at me, and waved back to the traitor who used to be my friend, hoping somehow, in her broken little mind, Mia would wake and see who she’d chosen to trust. Putting all of my fury for her into my glare at him.
Rupe had the good sense to break eye contact.
The hole closed, Belaisle's three Brotherhood members in keeping with the number permitted. He'd thought of everything, hadn't he? He gestured for his people to precede him as he smiled, the picture of benevolence. Too bad his soul was a gaping hole of nothing.
“If I may,” he said, addressing Mom. “My absence yesterday denied me the opportunity to speak on the behalf of my people.”
I could tell Mom wanted to squash him like a bug, but her grace was legendary. “Proceed,” she said.
Liander stood in the middle of the vast empty pavilion center, as calm and comfortable as a master magician casting an illusion over an audience. “I could tell you about the last century of my people's development,” he said, “but the Brotherhood instead prefers to look to the future and our plans for it.”
This should be good. I felt Sassafras's body shake as he growled silently, hyper-focused on the sorcerer.
We all were, down to the last of us. Even me.
“Which is part of the reason I wished to join conclave,” Belaisle went on. “The future. And our desire to change the way magic is perceived by normals.”
Say what?
“Too long have those with power hidden behind shields and false lives, pretending to be who we are not.” Holy. Crap. No way Tallah’s visit was from the Steam Union, or any kind of coincidence. Now I knew Belaisle was behind it all along. “Even as normals destroy this plane with their greed and industry.” Oh, and Coterie Industries wasn't involved? He was such a charlatan. “It is time all magic races work together to enforce our protections and guidance of this plane.” He turned to Meira. “Of all planes.”
While the other magic races simply scowled, I thought one or two of the gathered witches might dissolve into puddles of panic. A roar of terror raced around the circle of watchers, witches actually clutching each other in fright.
If Belaisle wanted to empty the place, he was doing a good job of it. Way to make friends, loser.
Mom’s power took firm hold of the space and shut everyone down.
Just in time for my sister to make a wisecrack.
“Perhaps if you'd come to us before attacking the Enforcer stronghold,” Meira said in her best deadpan politician's voice, “there would have been a chance to hold such a conversation.”
As if. But the jab hit home.
I hope he bled from it.
“Not so,” Belaisle said. “But I'm glad you brought it up, Your Highness.”
The scrabbling need to escape the idea of exposing themselves had faded to a soft skim of anxiety so sharp the sides of the tent were in jeopardy. Still, the Asian Council Leader seemed poised as she rose to speak.
“What was your purpose?” Sumiko’s face settled into cold composure, soft Japanese accent appearing over her perfect English. “Such an attack goes against the very laws we strive to uphold.” While she'd agreed to allow him entry, it appeared she didn't trust him either.
At least not everyone lost their damned minds.
“You may not be aware,” he said, “but the stronghold, as you call it, does not, and never did, belong to the North American Enforcer order.”
Knew that. Now everyone did. Couldn’t keep a lid on this, either, turned out. Liander had all the answers to the unspoken questions weighing on conclave tied up in a pretty bow he handed to the gathering in his silken voice.
“I doubt your Enforcers know who the real creators of the empty plane are,” he said. Maji, jerktard. So there. “Nor did they desire to find out.” He turned to Mom who shook her head.
“It has long been a question on our minds,” she said.
“The empty plane is ours,” he said. “Created by the Brotherhood almost four millennia ago. It is, in fact, our home. Was lost to us when the maji attacked during the time of the Egyptian Pharaohs.”
Liar. At least, if Eva was to be believed. Could I believe her? Mom.
We have no way of knowing if Eva’s information is right. She sounded a little desperate. It could be true, Syd.
Hell no.
“I’m hearing lots of air come out of your mouth.” Yeah. Pot. Kettle. Wasn’t shutting me up, though. “But I’m not seeing any proof, Belaisle.”
He looked up at me with the most condescending tsk I’ve ever had the fury to be targeted with. Turned to Mom. “You need to teach your little maji patience, Council Leader.”
Splutter. Choke.
Grrr.
“The North American council discovered it, quite by accident, I understand.” Liander waited, eyebrows raised, for Mom to respond.
“Three hundred years ago,” she said. “A mirror shard was uncovered in an abandoned coven house.”
“Not a coven house,” he said. “But a Brotherhood historic site.”
Mom didn't comment. From the feeling around me, the way resistance faded at his words, she didn't have to.
We'd lost the popular vote. If not the stronghold itself forever.
“Your Enforcers repurposed our home,” he said. “Something we only discovered recently.” Okay, now I knew he was lying. Belaisle must have known about the Enforcer’s occupation ages ago. Why else would he have tricked the order into taking the machine back
to the lab? “When we found out our ancestral plane was occupied, we reacted with anger.” Regret, so false and overdone, pulled at his face. I wanted to smack it away, tear him open, show the gathering what I saw.
Felt.
The emptiness in his heart matching the nothing of his sorcery.
“We managed to acquire the means to return, only to be confronted with an attack.” The memory of Demetrius's experience surged inside me, reminding me how much of a sociopath Liander really was. “And, sadly, we answered with force.” He shrugged. “The Enforcers refused to be evicted, leaving us no choice but to answer fire with fire.”
Is that what he called it.
“You murdered innocent elders,” Mom said, voice steady, calm as though discussing the weather. “And young trainees just learning the Enforcer craft. You call their presence an attack, Liander?”
Maybe it was the cynic in me that thought the stares and whispers from the gathered witches were a little too excited, too titillated by the reveal. Like this whole mess was here for their entertainment. Not something to be taken seriously.
I opened my power to show them what Demetrius showed me. We’d see then what they thought of today’s program.
A pair of sharp nails dug into my arm in a tight pinch, shattering my furious intent. I turned, scowling, locking gazes with a pair of faded blue eyes.
Don’t do anything stupid. Gram’s mind was thin, distant, but there, with me. Won’t get us anywhere. He's telling the truth about most of it. Varity squeezed in beside her and nodded. Enough truth the rest of it won’t matter in the end. The bastard is a master of lies, but in this instance, he's right. The stronghold was never ours. And the loss… casualties of our little war.
What are you doing here? I wanted to hug Gram even as I stared at the pair in shock. How did you get in?
Gram snorted while Varity rolled her eyes at me.
Just try and keep us out, Varity sent.
We felt the stronghold fall. Gram's eyes narrowed, lips a slash of anger. Couldn't just sulk in my room and not try to do anything.
So what about the stronghold? I sent. There are other ways in. My excitement started to bubble. There has to be a way to take it back.
