by P. C. Cast
“Oh, it’s beautiful!”
I followed her gaze to a thin silver ribbon of light that stretched around the perimeter of our circle, connecting air, fire, and now, water.
“Yes, it is. And you helped make it so.”
I traced the circle around and halted before Stevie Rae and her green earth candle.
“Hey there, Z.” She handed me a long match.
“Hey there.” I lit the match and invoked, “Earth is the fourth element of our circle. It is present all around us as well as in our bodies. It sustains us and supports us. It is our home. It is the element of our basic needs—our shelter and our stability. Come to me, earth!” Stevie Rae’s green candle lit and for an instant I was transported to the Tallgrass Prairie in summer. I smelled the fertile ground and heard birds singing and insects buzzing.
When I headed back to the center of the circle to invoke spirit, I was filled with purpose at the sight of the silver thread that tied the four elements together.
My match was still lit, and I held it to my purple candle. “Spirit is the fifth and final element of our circle. It is what unites us and binds the other four elements to us. Without spirit we would be empty shells. It is the element of transformation. Come to me, spirit!”
All across my skin I felt the familiar prickle of spirit as it surged into the circle and turned the silver binding thread of light to a soft violet. I put my candle on the ground at my feet and picked up the velvet bag of salt as I unwound the sweetgrass from around my wrist.
“Earth, please smudge our circle and then join me in the center.” My voice had changed. I no longer sounded like a young woman who was barely eighteen. I spoke with the power and confidence of a High Priestess, blessed by Nyx. My words carried across the park, filled with the power of the five elements.
Stevie Rae placed her candle on the ground and, careful to remain within the confines of the sparkling purple thread, she lit the fat smudge stick and walked clockwise around the inside of the circle as she wafted the sage around us. White smoke rolled in waves creating the shapes of flowers and trees above her, and as she passed Damien, then Aphrodite and Kacie, the smoke changed form. At Damien it became playful little cyclones, skipping around him. When she reached Aphrodite the funnels became flames, and at Kacie the flames changed to waves. Finally, Stevie Rae joined me, and all the shapes came together to form a beautiful set of wings.
Stevie Rae placed the stick on the ground, and the earth instantly extinguished it. I held out the rope of braided sweetgrass and said, “Let’s go to fire.”
Together, earth and spirit walked to where Aphrodite stood before the wall of Neferet’s grotto. I used the red fire candle to light the strand of sweetgrass, then I lifted it and began tracing the pattern of a five-pointed star—representing each of the elements—as I said, “Just as sage cleanses, sweetgrass calls to the spirit realm. Tonight, I beseech the protective spirits of this earth to come to this place. I call not only with the power of this circle and our Goddess of Night, Nyx, but I also beckon with the rich heritage of my Cherokee blood. My ancestors lived with the land—not on it. They cherished it and were its protectors. But even though I am the only vampyre here who carries the Tsalagi blood, we five acknowledge that the earth is not ours to own and pillage. It is instead our responsibility to care for it and keep it for generations to come.”
Though I still traced the pentagram, I called to each of the elements saying, “Air, what is your role in protecting the earth?”
“I love it!” Damien said.
“Fire, what is your role in protecting the earth?”
“I cleanse it!” Aphrodite said.
“Water, what is your role in protecting the earth?”
“I nurture it!” Kacie said.
Stevie Rae didn’t hesitate. “I am earth—strengthened by the other four elements!”
“And spirit indwells it!” I said.
I dropped what was left of the sweetgrass at my feet and loosened the drawstring of the velvet bag. With her left hand, Stevie Rae held the open bag for me. Her right hand gripped my left as I dipped my free hand into the tiny white crystals sparkling like diamond chips in the light of Aphrodite’s candle. I inhaled deeply and said:
“Come, spirits of the earth.
I call on you this hour.
Repel those made vampyre through rebirth;
Henceforth they cannot cross this white line of power!”
As I spoke the spell, I threw handfuls of salt all around the tomb in front of me while I envisioned a barrier of white that encircled the grotto, much like the glistening purple light that bound our circle.
It worked perfectly—incredibly—magickally. The salt didn’t simply fly through the air to scatter by the tomb. Directed by spirit and called by earth, the salt formed a thick white circle around the grotto. Within the barrier of that circle, the spirits of huge beasts lifted from the earth. I grinned as I recognized them and greeted them as my grandma would.
“Osiyo, yanasi!”
“Ohmygoodness! Bison!” Stevie Rae said.
I couldn’t stop smiling. The giant beasts, iridescent and magnificent, materialized all around the tomb.
“May I look?” asked Aphrodite, sounding like a little girl asking for candy.
“Sure,” I said.
Careful not to step outside our glowing thread, Aphrodite turned. “They’re incredible! Will everyone be able to see them?”
“No, after we close the circle they’ll be invisible unless a vampyre doesn’t heed the repel spell. Then they’ll probably be visible to that vamp as they push him or her away.”
“That’s something I’d like to see,” she said.
“See, maybe,” I said. “Experience—no way. Bison are nothing to mess around with.”
Like they heard me, several of the spirit beasts snorted and translucent smoke billowed from their wide nostrils.
“They’re not playing,” said Stevie Rae. “I can feel their power radiatin’ from the earth. The Sons of Erebus Warriors are gonna have to stay way back from the tomb when they guard it.”
“Why do we need them to guard it at all now?” Aphrodite asked as she stared at the creatures.
“You have a point,” I said. “I’ll talk to Stark about it, but I don’t see why we’d need more than one Warrior posted here at night. That’s enough to keep an eye on the humans who leave stuff for Neferet.”
“Good,” Aphrodite said as she turned back to face me. “I’m all for having more Warrior time—if that Warrior is Darius.”
“Ah oh, speaking of humans who leave stuff for Neferet.” Stevie Rae squeezed my hand and jerked her chin toward the street behind us.
I looked over my shoulder to see Stark striding toward a lone woman who was walking down the sidewalk that framed Twenty-First Street. I watched the Sons of Erebus Warriors close ranks so that she had a hard time seeing around them to where we were, but I wasn’t worried about gawkers—not really. Stark and I had already decided he would say the House of Night High Priestess and her circle were simply strengthening the protective spell around Neferet’s tomb—which was definitely a version of the truth.
“Nosy humans.” Aphrodite shook her head as she squinted through the lingering sage and sweetgrass smoke at the woman who had already turned around to head back in the direction she’d come. “Hey, Neferet is not your friend!”
Aphrodite hadn’t exactly shouted it, but the woman must have heard something because she looked back at our circle.
“Can you believe it? She’s a grown woman,” Aphrodite muttered. “You’d think she’d know better.”
“We have to keep it positive,” I reminded her.
Aphrodite’s brows pinched together. “Right. Sorry. I should know better.”
“No problem,” I told her. “I totally get the frustration. Let’s c
lose the circle and head back to school. I can already taste the spaghetti waiting for us.”
Closing the circle was simple. I began where I’d left off, with spirit, thanking it and then gratefully releasing it as I blew out my purple candle. Then I moved counterclockwise around the circle, thanking and releasing each of the other four elements until the glowing thread that bound us dissipated and the spectral bison disappeared.
“What was up with that human?” I asked Stark as the Warriors joined us.
He shrugged. “She said she lives near here and works the graveyard shift at St. Johns Hospital. When she gets off she likes to walk around the park at night because the Warriors make her feel safe.”
“Aww,” I said. “That’s kinda sweet. It makes me feel good that the humans who live near the House of Night have begun trusting us.”
“Makes me feel good too. I told her she could come back tomorrow night and that the Sons of Erebus Warriors would be sure to look after her.”
“You’re a nice guy, James Stark.” I tiptoed to kiss him.
He put his arm around me as we followed the others back to the parking lot. “Just nice? Not sexy or courageous or even cute?”
“I’ll take nice over all those other things, but okay. You’re all of them.” I stuck my hand in his back pocket, appreciating his firm butt. “Hey, you wanta test the vamp repel spell?”
He snorted. “Hell no! My Warriors and I could feel it all the way outside your circle. Didn’t you see the guys I’d stationed above the tomb backing off when those giant buffalo appeared?”
“No, I was busy watching the bison,” I corrected.
“Well, it works. No need to rile up those beasts,” he said. “Ready for some spaghetti?”
“I’m always ready for psaghetti.” And, feeling safe, protected, and a lot better about everything in general, I sang my anticipatory psaghetti song all the way back to the House of Night—much to the amusement of Stark and the irritation of Aphrodite.
8
Other Lynette
Earlier that day
The mansion Vanessa and the other four college girls led Lynette and Neferet to was in the historic Midtown district of Maple Ridge, and as Vanessa had said, within easy walking distance of Woodward Park. It was a huge brown-brick Georgian villa with columns and what had to be more than eight thousand square feet of space over two stories.
“Oh, yes,” Neferet had said as they’d approached, noting the wide brick walkway and the tastefully ornate facade. But the instant they entered the majestic home, Neferet had met Lynette’s gaze and quietly corrected to, “Oh, no.”
The bones of the villa were exquisite, but the inside had been utterly ruined by a horrible interior decorator. As Lynette stared around them, taking in the magnificent woodwork, beveled windows, gleaming wood floors, twenty-foot ceilings, and exquisitely detailed and original crown molding, she decided that the theme within was a mixture of self-aggrandizement, immaturity, and bad taste. Each room was painted a different color—the entryway being blue, which wouldn’t have been terrible had they used moderation and understood that pastels work best with that type of color palette. Clearly, whoever was in charge of design didn’t understand that. The elegant structure was no match for poor judgment—midnight blue changed to emerald green, which then became a fierce mustard yellow.
The horridly colored walls should have held museum-quality masterpieces. Instead, they were filled with huge prints of the five young women ranging from over-the-top baby pictures to posed portraits of each wearing what they obviously thought was couture. The majority of the ornately framed photos were of Vanessa, but each of the five women was represented—over and over and over again.
In the middle of the glaringly green sitting room Vanessa threw out her arms and spun around. “Well, what do you think, my lady?”
Neferet paused only a moment before saying, “I think this is a lovely villa and it is clear you have a deep connection to it.”
“May I ask who did your interior design?” Lynette said.
Vanessa smiled smugly. “That would be me. I actually would love to have a career in interior design, but Daddy says it’s part of the service industry, and so, totally not for me.”
“Well,” Lynette struggled for a moment with how to respond, then followed Neferet’s lead and prevaricated, “you have a very distinctive eye.”
“Yes, I know,” Vanessa said dismissively.
“Show us to our rooms now. I must freshen and then find a feeder before the fog dissipates.”
Vanessa made a sweeping gesture toward the wide wooden staircase that curved to the second floor and was carpeted in plush ivory. “Please, come this way.”
“Yeah, it’s super gorgeous upstairs too!” gushed Amber as the other girls nodded and smiled and followed them up the stairs.
Neferet paused every few steps to study the enormous black-and-white photos that hung against the red wall. “These nudes are quite—unusual.”
Each photo was of one of the girls, naked and bareback on a horse. They all had extensions so that their blonde hair reached their waists and were in various positions from reclining to straddling.
“There’s a story to those,” said Vanessa.
“Yeah,” Jordan, the girl who had represented earth, spoke up. “It was during our Epona phase. That’s why we took the pics on the horses.”
“Please, Jordan. Get real.” Vanessa shot the other girl a narrowed-eye look. Lynette found it interesting that Jordan not only stopped speaking, but also faded into the background. Vanessa controls the other four, Lynette realized.
The young woman explained to Neferet as they slowly climbed the staircase. “I realized super fast that Epona wasn’t a real goddess, especially when Neferet, well, our Neferet revealed herself as an immortal. So, we just keep these pictures for fun because they’re, you know, gorgeous. Our photos honoring Neferet are in our bedrooms.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially and in a mock whisper said, “We keep them up there because some people don’t get why we worship her.”
Neferet clicked her pointed nails against the banister. “Of course they don’t. The general public is ignorant. That is a well-established fact,” she said smoothly. “Now, Vanessa, tell me about how Neferet revealed herself as immortal to this world.”
Lynette took mental notes as Vanessa, with occasional input from the other four women, outlined a bizarre sequence of events beginning with the death of Tulsa’s mayor—which they blamed on Zoey Redbird—to the slaughter of humans at the Boston Avenue Church—culminating with this world’s Neferet basically barricading herself within the Mayo Hotel while she was besieged by the Tulsa Police Department and House of Night vampyres. They also described a being who sounded a lot like Erebus who they claimed had been Neferet’s Consort, but who was killed in the Mayo battle. Eventually, after literally hundreds of human deaths, which the five young women blamed on the House of Night, Neferet broke free from the Mayo siege but was ambushed at Woodward Park and sealed into the grotto through magick and the sacrifice of an immortal.
Lynette thought the story sounded about one-quarter truth and three-quarters the fabrication of rich girls who have little else to do.
Lynette cleared her throat as they paused in the upstairs landing outside five bedrooms and a dayroom that was Easter-egg purple. “Vanessa, does the rest of Tulsa, excluding the House of Night vampyres of course, feel as you five do about what happened to the Goddess Neferet?”
Vanessa barely glanced at her and made a dismissive motion with her long, squared-off fingernails. “Oh, the politicians and media and such don’t, but whatever. They’re all controlled by men. Of course they’re going to say what the House of Night tells them to. We know better and so do a lot of other people. Just go look at our Neferet’s tomb. It’s practically covered with offerings.” Vanessa turned her back on Lynette as she curtsied awkwardly to N
eferet. “And now, my lady, I thought you might like Kelsey’s room. It faces north and gets the least sunshine.” She pointed to a modest-sized room painted a jarring shade of coral. “Oh, and there’s a room downstairs off the kitchen Juanita stays in sometimes when the weather’s bad or whatever and she can’t get home. Your maid can have that one.”
Instead of answering, Neferet strolled around the upper floor, looking in all of the bedrooms. Lynette followed her, intrigued by the photos that decorated the rooms. Each girl had filled her walls with framed naked photos of herself. In them, they’d had their faces painted with the strange black makeup they still wore that made them appear as if they wore Mardi Gras masks. They posed with their arms aloft, light illuminating them as if they were standing—or lying or straddling chairs—in the middle of a spotlight. Lynette decided that they were pretending to be divine, and she had to stifle the urge to laugh. She’d witnessed the power Neferet possessed, had watched her summon Old Magick, naked except for the tendrils she called her children. Compared to her, these women—these girls—looked like they were playing dress-up in their mothers’ closets.
“Do you like them?” Vanessa asked breathlessly.
“Them? You mean the rooms?” Neferet answered.
“Oh, well, that too. But I meant our photos. They’re a tribute to Neferet. If you like them then our goddess must too.”
“I can only speak for myself, but I have never seen humans create such a tribute to a vampyre goddess before, and it says much about how you worship. I’m sure your Neferet will find it as fascinating as I.”
