Gods of Chaos (Red Magic)

by Jen McConnel

  I paused in front of a shelf labeled “Divination: Flame.” Without thinking, I reached up and pulled down a thick leather-bound book. Kneeling on the floor beside the shelf, I began to turn the waxy pages. I was getting absorbed in the book when someone tripped over me.

  “Ouch!” I tried to keep my voice down, remembering the stern librarian around the corner, but I was startled. I stood up quickly, clutching the book in my hand.

  Dr. Farren looked surprised to see me. “I hadn’t heard anything from you since our meeting yesterday. I thought you might have returned home.” She glanced at the book in my hands, her frown deepening.

  I shook my head. “No. I think I have a plan.” I paused, but before I could continue, she cut me off.

  “Then maybe you and I should speak somewhere more private.” Her gesture took in the handful of people browsing through the library shelves.

  I nodded. “Let me tell Izzy.”

  “You’re here with her?”

  I ignored her surprised tone. What did the woman think I was, a leper? “Yes. She’s helping me.” I headed toward the chair where I had left Izzy, but it was empty.

  Dr. Farren looked around in consternation. “Does she know about you?”

  “I’ve told her everything.” Well, not everything, I mentally amended, but Dr. Farren didn’t need to know that.

  The book Izzy had been looking at was still on the chair, flipped open to a different page. This one was illustrated, with a red hippopotamus devouring a boat. I looked more closely at it, confused. I didn’t really know much about Egyptian mythology, but the caption said it was a picture of Set attacking Horus.

  “Horus was Isis’s son, right?” I asked Dr. Farren, pointing to the illustration curiously.

  She nodded, glancing at the book. Suddenly, she gasped. “Good gracious!” She stared at the picture, panic flashing across her face. Her eyes darted around the room and she grabbed my wrist.

  “We must act. Now.”

  Before I could struggle or protest, she dragged me from the library.

  Dr. Farren hustled me into her office, shutting the door behind us with a slam. I watched her seal it with a ward I didn’t recognize, and then she moved clockwise around the room, tracing the ward in each corner and in front of the two tall stained glass windows.

  Instead of the floor pillows, the room was now furnished with a massive oak desk. A throne-like chair sat behind it, and a rough wooden stool was placed in front. It was totally different than the office I remembered. The first time we’d met, she’d been friendly and her office had felt welcoming. Now that she was pissed, the office seemed like the setting for an inquisition.

  Dr. Farren sat on the throne, her back straight. With a gesture, she indicated that I should sit down, so I perched awkwardly on the stool.

  “How well do you know Isadora?” Her voice shook slightly, but her face was an emotionless mask. Still, I felt the tension in the room increase with her question.

  “She’s got a brother who practices Red magic, like me.” I paused. What did I really know about Izzy? “She’s a Blue Witch, and dedicated to Isis. She, um, she likes street food and cemeteries,” I finished lamely.

  Dr. Farren nodded slowly. “What do you know of her parentage?”

  I shrugged. “Nothing, really, except she said Isis was like a mother to her. I wish I felt that way about a god!” I laughed ruefully. “The ones I know are mostly out to kill me.”

  The director didn’t smile. “Your friend is an interesting Witch. Do you have any idea where she might be?”

  Startled, I almost slipped off the stool. “You think she’s missing? But she was just there a few minutes ago. Maybe she went to grab another book or something.”

  Dr. Farren sighed. “You must understand, Darlena, I am still not sure how far I can trust a Witch like you. And there are things that you should not hear from me.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She reached for the old-fashioned black telephone on her desk. “I need to contact Isadora’s brother. Maybe he can tell you.”

  I swallowed. “You won’t be able to reach him.”

  She set the phone down and glared at me. “All right, young lady, it seems that you have some things to explain to me.”

  “Marcus is gone.”

  “Gone where?”

  I hesitated. “I’m not sure. Izzy thinks Hecate took him, for some reason. I think he left willingly.” I paused. “I don’t trust him.”

  She eyed me shrewdly. “Why is that?”

  “I came here for help, but he didn’t seem concerned with what I told him. Either that,” I added bitterly, “or he’d like to see chaos take over.”

  She looked at me intently. “Where did you last see him?”

  “At the Clava Cairns. He and Izzy and I rode out there yesterday. We thought that—”

  “It doesn’t matter what you thought! I know you haven’t had the same kind of training, but I’d expect those two to know better than to go prancing around such a powerful site unescorted.”

  I looked at her in surprise. “Why is it powerful?”

  “As a Red, you of all people should realize the power of death. Those stones were built to symbolize the passage to the afterlife. They embody the power of death, and all that that entails.” She tapped her fingers on the desk, staring at me. “Clearly, we have to act.”

  I held up my hands. “I’m really confused. What’s going on?”

  She picked up the phone again, ignoring me. “Hello? It’s Tali. Yes. I know. Sooner than we thought. Now.”

  Dr. Farren hung up the phone and sighed. “You better come with me.” She rose swiftly and left the office. What the hell is going on? After a moment, I followed her.

  It was hard to keep up with Dr. Farren’s wide strides. Luckily, her car wasn’t parked too far away from the school. I waited until she’d pulled the BMW into traffic before I started asking questions.

  “What’s this all about? And where are we going?”

  She maneuvered the car through the thick holiday traffic. “The first question will take a while to explain. But we’re going to the countryside.”

  “Why?”

  Dr. Farren glanced at me. “To stop what’s started, if we can.”

  I grimaced. “I still don’t know what’s going on. But why do we have to go to the countryside? Can’t we do whatever we need to do here?”

  “My Coven is based there. We need all the help we can get.”

  “Your what?”

  She looked at me, surprised by my tone. “Don’t they teach you anything in America?”

  “The only time I’ve heard the word ‘coven’ was in one of those trashy horror movies. It was a group of Satanists.”

  She snorted. “That’s an improper use of the term. A Coven is a group of Witches.”

  “Isn’t that what your school is?”

  “A magical school and a Coven are two very different things. A Coven is a group of Witches who practice together. They swear vows to the group, as well as to their own patrons. In that way, they gain strength in their magic.

  I looked out the window at the frosty landscape whizzing by. “But isn’t that dangerous? To work so closely with other Witches?”

  Dr. Farren looked at me in surprise. “Why would it be? We’ve all sworn allegiance to each other. That vow is just as binding as a dedicancy to an individual patron. No one breaks that kind of vow.”

  I didn’t want to correct her. “But how does working as a group make the magic stronger?”

  “Our group has members from three of the magical paths, so we each contribute our strengths and weaknesses. It means our spells are more well-rounded, shall we say.”

  “Which three?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Which three paths are in your Coven?”

  “It’s not up to me to share information about my Coven sisters and brothers. You’ll have to ask them when you meet them.”

  “I still don’t understand w
hy you need your group right now.”

  She sighed. “Because if I’m right, the end of the world might become a reality really fast.”

  My heart sped up as I stared at her, startled to hear my own suspicions voiced.

  She smiled thinly. “My Coven has been watching events for some time, keeping an especially close eye on the gods who foster chaos. Not just the Red deities,” she added, looking at me quickly, “but any of the gods who enjoy a good disaster now and again.”

  “Who’s your patron?” I asked abruptly.

  She glanced at me, but then lifted her chin proudly. “Hera.”

  That made so much sense; the woman was queenly and powerful, even when she was angry. “So you’re a White?”

  She nodded.

  “How do you contact her?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  I paused, and worded my question without bringing Freya into it. “I thought that the gods are bound by the places they were worshiped. So how do you talk to Hera here in Scotland?”

  She laughed. “Museums are excellent places: artifacts from all over the world now make their home here in this land.” Her eyes flickered to me and then back to the road. “I’m surprised to learn that you do know some things.”

  I tried to ignore her tone. “Trinity taught three paths: Green, White, and Black. I never knew anything else existed until I made my declaration to Red.”

  She nodded. “That’s the American system. For some reason, when Witchcraft crossed the ocean, the Puritan fathers chose to eliminate half of the magical paths.”

  “So there are six paths altogether?” I paused, ticking off on my fingers as I went. The gray landscape whipped by the window, but I ignored it. “There’s Red and Blue, Green and Black, and White.” I looked at her curiously.

  “The sixth is the Yellow path.”

  “Is that the path of Air?”

  “Once more, very good!”

  I shrugged. “Izzy and I talked a little bit about how the elements come into it.” I paused. “Do you really think she’s gone?”

  Dr. Farren ignored my question. “The American system is incomplete. Together, the six magics represent the five elements that govern the planet: earth, air, fire, water, and spirit. To only teach spirit and earth is like amputating the legs from a man: horrible and wasteful.”

  “There must have been a reason they stopped teaching the other three paths.”

  Dr. Farren snorted. “The reason is obvious! Your forefathers liked things to be black and white, if you’ll pardon the expression. It was easier to build a magical system that dealt with good, evil, and mundane. Less complicated than the reality.”

  “I guess I don’t understand. I mean, cutting out Red makes sense.”

  “Does it?” She looked at me for a long instant, but just when I was starting to worry that we’d crash into oncoming traffic, she turned her eyes back to the road.

  “Well,” I struggled to find the words, “it’s dangerous, isn’t it? I mean, look what’s happened to me! My best friend tried to kill me because of Red magic.”

  She sighed. “Not all Witches are as power mad as your friend was.”

  I nodded. “But still, having a path that only three people can practice, I can see why they wouldn’t talk about it much. It’s like the most exclusive party around—people are sure to get jealous.”

  “I don’t believe that’s true. Especially if Witches were taught early on to respect all six of the paths, I don’t think even the exclusivity of the Red path would cause jealousy or conflict. Each path has dangerous elements.”

  “But sometimes it feels like Red is the worst.”

  She smiled sadly. “You bear a heavy burden, but you chose it for yourself. Some Witches are not so lucky.”

  “No one can be forced to choose a path. That’s against the Rede.”

  Dr. Farren stared straight ahead at the road. “Laws can be broken.”

  ***

  Dr. Farren parked in front of an old, white farmhouse when we reached the countryside. I counted three other cars parked in the driveway.

  “Darlena, there are many things you are about to learn. You won’t like all of them.”

  “I don’t care. I need to understand what’s going on, and I want to find Izzy.”

  “And Marcus?” Her question was gentle, but I detected a hint of sharpness in her tone.

  “I guess I’m not sure if he’s worth finding.”

  She smiled sadly. “You may change your mind.”

  I glanced up at the farmhouse looming before us. It looked old and abandoned to the naked eye, but my senses were tingling: magic had been done here, frequently. The residue made the house almost glisten. “Is it okay for me to go in there? I mean, I haven’t sworn an oath to your group or anything.”

  “That’s a chance I’m willing to take. I think everyone will understand.” Despite her words, she looked nervous. I wondered idly what she hadn’t told me about the Coven.

  “Crawck!” A loud scream came through the front windows of the house, and I jumped.

  “What was that?”

  Dr. Farren smiled. “Julia’s parrot. She never travels without him. You’ll get used to it.”

  The bird screeched again, louder, as the door opened. I was startled to see the stork-like man from the library standing there in the doorway, and I recoiled behind Dr. Farren for a moment.

  She patted my shoulder. “Good afternoon, Samuel. You must have left immediately to beat us.”

  He nodded, glaring at me. “As soon as the girl vanished. I didn’t think you’d bring this one, though.”

  Dr. Farren pulled me forward gently. “It concerns her.”

  He didn’t respond, but stepped aside so we could enter the house. The door swung shut silently behind me, and I felt a moment of fear. I glanced at Dr. Farren for reassurance, but she looked away.

  Despite what I’d been afraid of, the Coven seemed like a normal group of Witches. I guess the horror movies Rochelle and I had watched for years had really warped my mind. I was expecting evil rituals and human sacrifice, but from what I could tell, I might as well have wandered into a book club as a magical group. Besides Dr. Farren and the man from the library, three other Witches were waiting: Julia, the woman with the parrot, Frederick, a short old man who reminded me of my Grandpa Agara, and Frances, his wife. It was their farmhouse.

  Sitting on a plush loveseat, I surveyed the Witches around me.

  “Is this everybody?”

  Frederick shook his head. “Our group is made up of nine members, but we’re only waiting on one more.”

  I glanced at Dr. Farren questioningly.

  “Not everyone could come out on such short notice.”

  “Oh.” I sat back against the cushions, thinking.

  Frances offered me tea, but I shook my head.

  “What does this girl have to do with anything?” Julia and her parrot glared at me, and I sank further back in the seat.

  “When we are all here, we can discuss it.” Dr. Farren’s voice was firm, and the other Witch shrugged gracelessly.

  I’d never liked being around adults, and sitting there on display for this strange Coven was starting to grate on my nerves. Abruptly, I stood up, and the parrot let out a piercing shriek.

  “Could you tell me where the restroom is?” I spoke to Frederick. Of all the Witches, he seemed the least threatened by me.

  “The W.C.? Top of the stairs to the left. Mind the seventh step—the board’s loose.”

  I nodded and left the room quickly. Once out of their sight, I slowed down, climbing the stairs carefully. It wasn’t just the seventh step; the entire staircase looked like it might crumble if you breathed on it. Miraculously, I made it to the second floor. The bathroom was easy to find, and I locked myself inside.

  I wasn’t sure why I was so angry; hadn’t Dr. Farren offered to help? But the longer I sat in the living room downstairs with those Witches, the more annoyed I became. I splashed water on my face from t
he pedestal sink, trying to calm down. When the water hit my skin, I shivered. Glancing at the mirror above the sink, I bit back a curse. For just a moment, I thought I had seen another face in the mirror besides my own. When I checked over my shoulder and didn’t see anything, I shook my head. Looking back at the mirror, I only saw my own ragged face.

  “Better not start hallucinating,” I told my reflection. I stood there for a minute, studying myself in the mirror. I’d been eating since I came to Scotland, but not enough to make up for the months when I barely touched any food, and my cheeks were still unnaturally hollow. My eyes looked haunted, and I didn’t think that was just because of the start I’d given myself. The people in the car, and then Rochelle, I ticked off on my fingers, feeling guilt rest heavily on me with each death. Sandra and Joan in the vaults, and now maybe Marcus and Izzy? Even though I wasn’t sure Marcus was in any danger, I knew that it was my fault if he were. I’d caused so much disaster since declaring to the Red path; would I ever be able to make it right?

  Trying to shake off my melancholy thoughts, I ran the water over my wrists, chilling them until my fingertips felt numb. I couldn’t let myself mourn; I had to keep moving, had to keep trying to do something about the chaos I’d caused. After an extra splash of water on my neck, I headed back downstairs to join the Coven.

  The stairs felt much sturdier going down, and I paused. What if the rickety steps were just an illusion, like a glamour? Intrigued by the thought that had popped into my head, I jumped once on the stair I was perched on, and the wood felt solid beneath me. I stared intently at the stairs, and I was finally able to discern the glimmer of magic resting like powder on the steps.

  I looked back upstairs, thinking. Why would a Witch enchant something in his home, unless he was protecting something? What was the Coven hiding? I listened for a moment, but the voices in the front room droned on calmly: no one seemed concerned by my absence. Yet.

  Deciding quickly, I turned and went back upstairs. Ignoring the bathroom, I passed down a long hallway. The floor looked like it sloped like a cheap funhouse, but if I walked carefully, I found it was flat. Another glamour! I pushed open the door at the end of the hallway and gasped.