by Nancy Holder
“Aren’t you afraid someone will see the fire?”
He shook his head. “They will enchant it so that only we and Armand can see it. It will help guide him to us. Come, while they are working we will talk.”
He led her a little ways away so that they could still see the rest of the coven but they could not be overheard. He sat and motioned for her to do likewise.
Once she was seated facing him he asked, “Who is chasing you, Nicole?”
“I don’t know,” she stammered, feeling her heart begin to race.
He nodded gravely and took both her hands in his. “Whoever it is is very powerful. Nicole, I fear for you. We must take extra care.”
Nicole felt herself crumble. She was tired of all this; she left Seattle to get away from the witchcraft and the danger. At least she wasn’t alone.
“I’m glad you found me.” She sobbed.
He shrugged and reddened slightly. “I have a confession: Our meeting was no accident. We have been searching for you, Nicole of the Cahors, since we heard that you were in Spain.”
She bristled, anxious that they had “heard” of her, hurt that he hadn’t told her before. “It’s Anderson,” she replied icily, not yet sure how she was going to respond to the other.
“Maybe to them,” he gestured wide, indicating the world with a sweep of his arm. “But here, with us, and here,” he tapped her chest over her heart, “you are Cahors. Yours is an old family, and there is pride to be taken in that.”
“My ancestors were murderers and assassins. No pride there.”
“Not all,” he answered gently. “Some Cahors witches were allied with the covens of the Light and they did much good. Others chose to ally themselves with all the forces of Darkness. And only you, Nicole, can say which side you shall ally yourself with.”
She smiled bitterly. “I would be lying if I denied that I was drawn to the dark.” She thought of Eli and the excitement she had felt when she was with him. She thought of the things they had done together, how she had let him touch her, and she was filled with mixed emotions. Mainly she felt remorse but there was a small part of her that was defiant, that knew that even with the knowledge she had now, she might not change a thing if given the choice. That was the part that frightened her.
Her scalp began to tingle, and she looked away from him. She glanced toward the others and was unnerved to find Pablo staring straight at her. His eyes bore into hers. Did he know what she was thinking? She fervently hoped not and tried to wipe her earlier thoughts from her mind. He shook his head slowly, whether in disapproval or defeat she did not know. At last he turned away and she felt herself sag with relief.
“Pablito sometimes uses his gifts when he ought not. Unfortunately, discretion is one of those things that only time teaches young men,” Philippe observed, having watched the exchange.
Nicole looked back at him guiltily. “Maybe he’s right to keep an eye on me.”
He smiled. “Time will tell the truth of that. But for now, come. They are ready for the ceremony.”
He stood and extended his hand. She took it and he helped pull her to her feet. Together they walked back to the fire.
“What sort of ceremony is it?”
“A seeking ceremony. We are asking for visions of the future.”
“So, what, I get to ask to see my future husband?” she joked.
He gave her an appraising look. “Perhaps you will, but it is not for me to say. No one can choose what they are shown.”
As they reached the fire, Nicole noticed that Armand had rejoined them. He nodded at her briefly.
“Now that we are together, we shall begin,” José Luís announced.
They all seated themselves around the fire. The smoke drifting upward carried the scent of burning wood mixed with something else that was much sweeter. Nicole wrinkled her nose, not sure whether the smell was a pleasing one.
They joined hands, and for one wild moment Nicole thought they were all going to start singing “Kumbayah.” She closed her eyes, willing herself to relax, and took a few deep breaths. The sweet smell wasn’t that unpleasant, she decided. It was actually kind of nice.
“We are gathered here to invoke the power of Seeing. We ask for clarity about the path that we are on, where it is leading, and what we must do to uphold the Light. Show us what we must see,” Philippe finished.
“Grant us eyes that we might see,” Armand added.
“Grant us wisdom to know what we must do,” Alonzo said.
“Grant us courage that we might act,” Pablo said.
“Grant us strength that we might prevail,” José Luís concluded.
On either side of her, José Luís and Alonzo released her hands. Nicole opened her eyes and watched as Alonzo picked up a long, crooked white stick that had been sitting on top of the fire. She gasped as she heard the sizzling wood burning his palm. He held it close to his chest and bent his head over it, eyes squeezed tightly shut.
Nicole watched as the muscle that ran along the left side of his jaw twitched. At last he looked up and his eyes shone brightly. “I see a great evil reaching across Europe, its darkness sweeps everything away before it.”
He passed the stick to Armand and picked up a strip of cloth soaking in a bowl of liquid. Gingerly he wrapped it around his burned hand.
Armand bowed his head over the stick reverently. His entire body began to shake. Finally he looked up. “I see myself standing between the Darkness and the Light. We are fighting the Darkness and we are not alone. Others are with us, but there is a great price to be paid.”
He passed the stick wordlessly to Philippe and then took a towel from the bowl handed to him by Alonzo and wrapped his hand. Philippe bowed over the stick for only a moment before looking back up. Tears were shining in his eyes.
“I see myself taking up a great burden and lifting it from the shoulders of another. The burden ages me.”
He passed the stick to Pablo and took a cloth. The young guy bent over the stick for several minutes quietly before he at last looked up.
“I see an island that has been hidden for centuries. There is a man in chains. A woman watches over him; she has always watched over him. She is afraid. Someone else is on the island, and he frightens her.”
José Luís took the stick from Pablo and held it tightly. Nicole could smell his flesh burning as she watched the tendons in his fingers flexing.
At last he looked up. His voice was eerily calm as he spoke. “I see my death.”
Shocked, Nicole stared at the stick as he offered it to her. She didn’t want to take it, didn’t want to be burned, and she certainly didn’t want to see anything. Still, she reached out her hand and clasped the stick. Her flesh burned and she knew it, but she could feel nothing. She held the stick in front of her.
She saw Eli’s face floating before her, laughing, taunting. It faded and another face was there above her. The features were cruel and twisted beneath a mane of blond hair. She screamed and tossed the stick from her.
Alonzo caught the stick in midair and after saying a few words over it, set it gently down. José Luís began wrapping her burned hand in the soothing cloth. “What did you see?” he pressed.
She looked up at him, gasping for air. She had never seen that face before in her life, and yet now she gasped, clawing for breath as if her head was still under the water in the bathtub at the safe house, “I saw ... I saw . . . my husband.”
She couldn’t get warm and she couldn’t stop shaking. It was as though she were slowly freezing from the inside out. The ground was hard beneath her and the cloak only kept out the chill of the morning air but did nothing to warm her. Nicole turned onto her side and tucked her knees up into her chest, trying to block out the vision she had had.
She had seen Eli, and a voice inside her had told her that he was still alive. How could that be? Hadn’t he, Michael, and Jer died in the fire? If he was alive, Michael might be too. They could be the evil the others had seen sweeping like a plague a
cross the continent.
She should warn Amanda and Holly. They had a right to know. If it was true then they needed to be prepared. I should be with them. She pounded her fist against her thigh. I don’t want to go back. I don’t want any part of the magic.
A voice inside her head mocked her, telling her she was a fool to think that she could ever escape the magic. It had followed her. No, it was in her. She couldn’t change that no matter how far she ran.
And what of that other face? She had felt the evil oozing from every pore of the lionesque features. And that voice, “I shall marry you, Nicole Cahors.” Who was he and how did he know who she was?
She stared down at the bandage wrapping her burned palm. Philippe had told her that within twelve hours there wouldn’t even be a mark.
A stray cat that had been lurking close by for the last hour approached quietly. Its fur was dusty and tangled, and its eyes held a feral gleam. It crept close and finally curled up so that it was touching Nicole’s chest. She dropped her hand upon the cat’s back.
It purred, startling them both. It settled, though, and stared at her with great almond-shaped eyes. “What am I going to do?”
The cat blinked at her once before squeezing its eyes closed and falling asleep.
SEVEN
SEED MOON
Brains and blood, tissue and bone
Time to reap the death we’ve sown
Sun above and stones in hand
Help us spread fear throughout the land
Come and see through scrying stone
The plans they make against the Crone
Cast the runes and we shall see
How to triumph, blessed be
Nicole: Outside Madrid, November
Nicole’s dreams were wild, vivid. She struggled against the man she had seen in her vision. He leered at her, laughing, always laughing. His mouth gaped open larger and larger like a cavernous yaw. Flames started shooting out of it, searing her face with their heat. She tried to scream, to turn away, but her feet wouldn’t move and only a whisper escaped her lips.
“Nicole, come to me,” the voice was soft in her mind.
She was finally able to turn, and she saw Philippe standing several feet away, his hand outstretched to her. She reached for his hand.
Now she awoke, and he was saying something to her.
She turned her head toward the door and there he stood, smiling gravely at her. Something warm, like a gentle touch, brushed against her mind, and she smiled. He moved to her and sat down beside her. He took her hand in his and warmth flowed through her.
“We have talked. We will do everything in our power to protect you.” He added, “You have a great destiny, Nicole.”
Tears stung her eyes. Maybe she had once believed that; it seemed long ago, back when her mother had been alive and they had practiced simple magics together. But I thought I was going to become a great actress, not a witch! Now she had nothing. Holly, maybe, had a great destiny, but not her.
“I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else,” she said, dropping her gaze.
With his free hand he tilted her head up so that her eyes met his. “We are not mistaken, Nicole Cahors. You have a great destiny. I know it. I feel it.”
She stared deep into his eyes and felt all her barriers falling one by one. She began to cry in earnest, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her, loving her as all the pain washed through her. His body shuddered slightly at each new wave, as though her pain, memories, and fears were assaulting him as well. When at last she looked up, she saw tears streaming down his face. His lips were moving as though in silent prayer.
He opened his eyes, and she could barely believe, let alone trust, what she saw shining in their depths.
“There’s so much I want to tell you,” she whispered.
“I know, I can feel it.” He bent slowly and kissed her on each cheek.
“I’m not a saint,” she said, dipping her head.
He put his hand under her chin and lifted her face back to his. “If you were, we’d have problems. Oh, not that we don’t have a few already.”
She smiled at his joke even as his touch sent her pulse skittering out of control. She fought down her emotions. There was something she had to do.
“I need to make a phone call.”
He nodded as though he had been expecting that. “It has to be short,” he warned. “They have been casting their nets trying to find you. We will need to be very fast and very clever.”
She nodded and then put her head back against his chest. All the forces of hell might be looking for her, but for the moment she felt safe.
José Luís had not slept since the vision. When the others had pressed him about it, he had answered in vagaries. Nothing about the vision had been vague, though. He knew even the moment of his death. He also knew there was nothing he could do to avoid it. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.
This was the fourth place they had been to in search of a phone for Nicole. They needed to avoid the towns, so they had been approaching villas. Within a mile of each they had turned away, sensing something amiss. They were running out of time, though. They could all feel it. Traveling by day was dangerous because of the increased numbers of people, the increased risk of being seen by the wrong person.
He glanced up at the sun as it approached the horizon. Being about during the day, though, had posed less risk than the night would. It was going to be a full moon.
He gazed along the cobblestone street. This tiny village might be their last chance to find a phone before night closed in. Pablo came up next to him. He placed his hand on the boy’s head.
“There is a phone next to the café in the square.”
José Luís nodded. Something didn’t seem quite right here, but he couldn’t place his finger on it. He glanced again at the setting sun. There wasn’t much time left. They’d have to take the risk.
He began to walk and felt the others falling in behind him. Armand cloaked them so that the villagers would not mark the passage of so many people.
They reached the phone, and Philippe and Nicole began to place the call. The rest of them spread out. José Luís kept one eye on the square and one eye on Philippe and Nicole. He could see the bond that was forming between them and he couldn’t help but approve. Philippe was strong and had a stability that Nicole lacked and needed. With his strength and her fire they could make a mark on the world.
It looked as if they had been connected. He smiled tightly. Only magic could allow an international phone call to go through that quickly from a pay phone in a small village.
Nicole’s hand shook as she dialed. What was the number? She’d lived in that house all her life, and now when she needed it she couldn’t even remember the phone number. Slowly, digit by digit, it came. At last she got through and the phone began to ring.
The answering machine picked up and she hung up in frustration. She breathed a prayer of thanks to the Goddess when she remembered Amanda’s cell phone number. She picked up the phone and dialed.
“Hello?” She nearly wept with joy when she heard her sister’s voice on the line.
“Amanda, it’s me. Listen carefully.”
“Nicole! Nicole, oh, my God! Where are you?”
“In Spain, somewhere, I think. That’s not important now, though. You have to listen to me. Eli is still alive.”
“Nicki, the ferry!”
“Listen to me, Manda.” She looked around anxiously. “Eli is still alive.”
“But . . . how do you know?”
“I had a vision. It’s complicated. But he’s alive, and there’s big evil happening.” Nicole swallowed. “I’m sorry I left, Amanda. Hecate . . .”
“She’s fine. Oh, Nicole.” Amanda was sobbing in earnest now.
Philippe gestured at her to hurry. She took a breath. “Did something happen to Holly?”
“Eddie’s dead!”
“What about Holly?” Nicole almost shouted.
�
��She saved me. I would have died. Nicki, oh, please, Nicki, come home. We need you.”
“I—I will,” Nicole said firmly. Now Philippe waved his hands and shook his head, silently urging her to get off the phone. “I have to go.”
“No!” Amanda wailed.
“I have to,” she said firmly. “I’ll try to call again soon.”
Hating herself, she hung up.
Nicole looked very upset. José Luís was concerned, watching, unable to hear what she was saying. At last she hung up, and Philippe gathered her close. José Luís took a step toward them. The sooner they left, the better.
Searing pain exploded in his back and chest. He crumbled to his knees, trying to shout. No sound came out. He twisted as he fell, landing on his back and driving the knife further into his punctured lung.
As he stared up into the face of his killer, he could see the moon, pale and full already, visible in the sky above.
As the world went black he thought, Ay, Dios mío, the visions never lie.
“I shouldn’t have left. I should never have left,” Nicole murmured against Philippe’s chest as they walked away from the phone booth.
“Ah, petite,” Philippe whispered “I am so sorry.”
They turned toward José Luís.
Nicole gasped as she saw the dark figure looming behind him.
Then José Luís fell to the ground, stricken.
From everywhere, menacing hooded figures appeared, as though rising from the very earth. Their cloaks were so dark they seemed to absorb the last vestiges of light around them. One rose behind Philippe, and Nicole shouted a warning.
He turned to face it just as the others of the coven exploded onto the scene. Armand shot into motion, a spinning whirlwind of magic and death. The last ray of the dying sun glinted off the sword he wielded. Nicole’s shocked mind wondered briefly where it had come from. The man twisted and turned like a fiend, chanting, shouting curses, and swinging the deadly blade. Three dark figures fell. More surged up to take their place.
From the top of a nearby roof, Nicole heard a loud, keening wail. She glanced up to see Pablo. He slowly extended his hands; bright light suddenly seemed to engulf his body. It shot through his fingers and cast the entire square in a blue, unearthly glow. The dark figures squealed and tried to scuttle away from the light.
