Waging War

by April White

  “It was daytime. You couldn’t be.”

  “Exactly.” The word was dull and dead-sounding, and I wanted to shake some life into it.

  “Archer, we’ve had this conversation before. I don’t do stupid stuff during the day when you can’t be there. This wasn’t dangerous. I was with Mom and Jeeves and we were going to fricking tea!”

  My voice broke and Archer looked instantly worried. “What did Walters do to them? Shaw called Cleary, and the minute I woke up he sent me to find you.”

  “The ring.” I said. “He used the Monger ring on them. It was like they were both in a trance, and they did whatever he told them to do.”

  “He didn’t use it on you?”

  I shook my head. “I think he tried to, but it didn’t work on me. I don’t know why. He said something that made me wonder, so I asked him if it was just me or any mixed-blood and he got so angry—” Archer struggled to sit up. “Wait, what are you doing? You can’t get up yet.” I tried to push him back down to his makeshift bed, but he swung his legs over the side and sat, panting slightly, on the edge of the table.

  “Help me to the sofa.” His breath came harder, but it wasn’t wet or bubbly-sounding, so short of pushing him back, I had no choice. I got my shoulder under his arm and helped him to the Victorian-style settee. He sat heavily, then arranged himself so there was room for me.

  “Tell me everything.”

  So I did. He held my hand and looked into my eyes, and I shared every detail with him. And somehow the sharing of it took some of the weight away, like he was there to carry an end anytime it got too heavy for me to carry alone.

  By the time I had finished the telling, I was curled next to Archer and the last thing I remembered was him stroking my hair and saying he loved me. I thought I heard the door open and Archer’s voice rumble in his chest, but I was so deeply asleep it felt like dreams.

  I snapped awake just before dawn, which I knew only because Archer told me he had to sleep.

  “Are you better?” I asked.

  “I will be when I see you tonight.”

  “Thank you.”

  I could feel him smile as he drifted off to sleep, and I carefully uncurled myself from his side and locked the door to the keep behind me.

  Breaking the Spell

  I found Ringo in the library, up on a ladder, looking through old World War II books.

  “He’s sleeping,” I said when I came in. I handed him up a cup of coffee with lots of fresh cream and sugar, and he took a satisfied sip.

  “Peace offerin’ or bribe?” He came down the ladder and sat on the edge of the table.

  “Peace.”

  He nodded once. “Accepted.”

  “Thank you for giving him blood.” I searched his face. He looked tired and pale, but otherwise unscathed from his donation.

  He shrugged. “Ye do what needs doin’.”

  “Archer’s right. We have to find Tom,” I said.

  Ringo’s eyebrows arched up in surprise. “What changed yer mind?”

  “Seth Walters wants him. He’s willing to trade kidnapped mixed-bloods for him.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Ye wouldn’t be tradin’ Tom back to that monster.”

  “Clearly not. But what’s so important about him that Slick would make that kind of deal? It seemed like he thought he could take over control of the Council if he had Tom with him, like they’d be afraid of Tom’s power. And how does Slick know he’s still alive anyway?”

  Ringo looked thoughtful for a long moment as he sipped his coffee. “‘E’s got the mixed-bloods for sure, then?”

  I ran down the same conversation I’d had with Archer the night before, and Ringo looked a little sick when I described the crumpled remains of the Aston Martin and the condition of Archer’s body when he collapsed in the back of the van.

  “It’s good that Walters is on the run at the moment, but ‘e should be banned from Council. And if it really was yer mixed blood that kept ye safe from that ring and its power to compel, then rescuin’ those other mixed-bloods and bringin’ them out of the woodwork is the key to leashin’ the Mongers.”

  I stared at him. “That’s it! That’s why he’s been taking mixed-bloods! They can’t be controlled with the ring. This is huge, Ringo, because it means there’s a way to stop the Mongers.”

  His eyebrows rose in surprise and he regarded me for a long moment. “It’s an interestin’ theory, but the only thing ye know for sure is that the ring didn’t work on ye.”

  “But it makes sense, doesn’t it? The Mongers want power and control. They get power when they can control the Families, but if mixed-bloods are unaffected by the ring, they can’t be controlled.”

  He didn’t look convinced. “What’s to stop Walters from just killin’ all ‘is prisoners, if they are still prisoners? I mean that many mixed-bloods on the open market, and ‘e’ll ‘ave problems tellin’ anyone what to do.”

  “That would be mass murder.”

  Ringo scoffed and tossed his head at the World War II book on the table. “I’ve been readin’ yer ‘istory. Ye’ve ‘eard of the frog in the water theory of war, right?”

  “Throw a frog in a pot of boiling water and he jumps right out?” I said.

  Ringo finished. “But put ‘im in cold water and turn up the ‘eat slowly, ‘e’ll stay in that pot until ‘e dies.”

  “I know that’s what Hitler did, but what does that have to do with the Mongers?”

  “Ye ever ‘eard of a little thing called the Mixed-Blood Moratorium? Or ‘ow about the Death Edict for Vampires – technically, they’re mixed too since ye ‘ave to be a Descendent to be infected.” He looked me straight in the eyes. “The ‘eat’s been being turned up for ‘undreds of years. Killin’ a whole slew o’ mixed-bloods would just be bringin’ the water to boil.”

  It was after dinner when we all finally met in the library. I had slept for a couple more hours, then spent a few hours working with my mom according to Liz’s instructions. Speak slowly. Tell her what really happened. Don’t get frustrated when she goes blank or doesn’t remember.

  I had been in medieval France when they brought my mom out of the Monger ring daze the first time, when she and Millicent had been hit with Slick’s words in the Council meeting, and I had no idea it was so hard. Liz said that this time seemed worse, so the effects might be cumulative, and I couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to have my will pre-empted like that. I thought we’d made some headway though, because her eyes cleared at one point and she suddenly realized it was me sitting in front of her.

  “Saira! You’re safe!”

  “Yeah, Mom – I’m here,” I said, grabbing her hand.

  Then she lapsed back into her dreamy state. “Of course you’re safe. He said you would be.”

  I left her room soon after that and Millicent took my place. She squeezed my hand briefly as she went into the bedroom, and I was ridiculously grateful for that touch.

  Connor was already in the library, looking hollow-eyed and a little lost when I arrived.

  “How’s Jeeves?” I asked.

  His eyes focused slowly, but he finally answered. “Did you know his first name is Mason? That’s what my mum calls him when she sits in front of him, holds his hands, and tells him things that are true.”

  “What kind of things?” Liz had only just moved her family into Jeeves’ flat above the garage during the summer, so it wasn’t like she’d known him for very long.

  “That she watches him work on the cars and she likes how strong his hands are. She notices all the nice things he does for us, but her favorites are the fresh flowers that magically appear in the kitchen window every week. And she loves that he’s teaching me things – things a boy should learn from his fa—” Connor’s voice broke and he cleared it wetly. “His father.”

  I caught his gaze in mine. “How do you feel about that?”

  He held my eyes for a long moment before he finally spoke. “I want to shake him and make him wake up to
her sitting in front of him. He needs to wake up, Saira. It’s not fair—” he cleared his throat again. “It’s not fair for Mum to finally find someone, just to have him disappear in front of her eyes.”

  “I got through to my mom for about a second. Has she been able to reach him at all?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know, she hasn’t told me. But he’s not a Descendant. What if he doesn’t come out of it?”

  I couldn’t answer that, and Ringo saved me from having to try when he came into the room holding a book open to a marked page. “I found the Monger ring!”

  Both of us were by his side in a second. Ringo had been with me in Slick’s office when we’d taken the genealogy, and he’d actually held the blood red gemstone ring in his hands for a second until I made him put it back. I didn’t regret it, because that ring just felt nasty, but this wouldn’t even be a conversation if I had let him nick it like he wanted to.

  Ringo pointed to a drawing of a ring that instantly sent shivers down my spine. It was the same ring we’d seen in Slick’s office, and the same one he was wearing when he snake-charmed my mom and Jeeves. Ringo read the description.

  “It’s called Le Sang du Christ, and it disappeared in 1842.”

  My limited French was enough to translate. “The Blood of Christ. That’s graphic. Disappeared from where?”

  “From the Vatican. The Blood of Christ has been in the papal records since about the ninth century.”

  I stared at Ringo. “The popes had the Monger ring?” It sounded blasphemous to even say it.

  He shrugged. “It was part of the Vatican’s collection until 1842.”

  “Do you think the popes actually wore it?” Connor looked horrified.

  I snorted. “It might explain a lot – like maybe the Inquisition and the Crusades.”

  “If it’s the same ring, how does knowing about it help anything?” Connor’s voice was still incredulous.

  Ringo answered him. “Because understandin’ a thing that makes no sense might just give it edges to grab onto. And if the church ‘ad it, they might know ‘ow to fight it.”

  Connor scowled. “Bishop Cleary’s Church of England. We don’t know any bigwig Catholics.”

  Ringo and I shared a look, and I knew exactly what he was thinking. I grinned. “We do know a guy…”

  Connor’s face lost its scoffing grumpiness as he suddenly got it. “The Vampire from France?”

  “Where did Bas say he’d be going next?” I asked the guys, but Archer answered from the doorway as he entered the room.

  “From France he was continuing his Catholic immersion in England to learn English. But by the time of the Tudors he would have gone to Amsterdam. Why?” Archer’s tone was casual and light, but he moved stiffly, like he was still in pain, and I rushed to his side. He kissed me lightly and accepted my help to the sofa.

  “Because we need to ask him about the Blood of Christ,” I said.

  Archer made a wry face. “I’m not sure he ever actually drank that, but you can ask him.”

  I shook my head at him. “Seriously? You can pun, but you can’t dodge bullets? Your self-preservation instincts are a little wonky, my friend.” The air in the room felt so much lighter with him in it, and I tucked myself in next to him on the worn leather.

  Ringo opened the book and showed Archer. “Le Sang du Christ is the Monger ring. This book describes it as one of the Vatican treasures that went missin’ in 1842.”

  “You’re sure it’s the same ring?” Archer studied the drawing carefully.

  “There’s an inscription – just there.” Ringo pointed to the inside of the band where two words – oravi and vici - were barely visible. “The ring I held in Walters’ office had the words veni, oravi, vici engraved inside.”

  “I came, I spoke, I conquered.” Archer said softly.

  We all stared at him as the full weight of those three words hit us. I looked at Ringo. “You called it the power to compel. I think the words make it clear that the Monger ring gives the wearer the power to compel other people. And the Mongers have probably been using it for centuries.” I shook my head in awed horror. “How many wars were started with that ring?”

  The rest of the household filed into the library, and I welcomed the distraction from the thought of so much power in Monger hands. They must have just come from dinner because everyone was dressed in formal clothes, and even Jeeves had on a tuxedo. Archer struggled to his feet, but I knew better than to help him up. A second later, Connor followed his lead. I watched Connor’s eyes dart between Jeeves and Liz. She sat at a table and then patted the seat next to her for him to join her. He complied with a vague smile that made my heart hurt. Mr. Shaw pulled a chair out for my mom, and Ringo stood to give Millicent his. I always loved seeing what Millicent wore to her formal dinners, and tonight’s jewels didn’t disappoint. She had on my favorite long gold chain with the emerald pendant that looked like it came off the shipwreck of a Spanish galleon, and a chunky gold ring set with a bloodstone intaglio and circled with diamonds. The striking jewels suited the severe lines of her satin evening gown, but not even the reflection of sparkly things could erase the worry in her eyes.

  Millicent nodded regally to Archer. “You’re looking well this evening, Mr. Devereux.”

  “Thank you, milady. You are stunning as usual.” Somehow, Archer made courtly manners sound perfectly contemporary, and Millicent smiled at him. She looked at me and lifted the long gold chain with the emerald over her neck.

  “Saira my dear. I’ve been meaning to give this to you. I’m sorry I missed your birthday.” She held the necklace out for me to take from her hand. In my shock I got up and gave her a hug, which probably startled her as much as it startled me. She placed the chain over my head and the emerald fell to almost the same length as Elizabeth Tudor’s black pearl did under my shirt. I stared at the pendant in my hand, then at her.

  “It’s so beautiful, but it’s way too valuable for me to have—” I started to take it off again, but she stopped my hands.

  “Nonsense. It is a thing. Lives are valuable. Things are just pretty to look at. Enjoy it, my dear. Eighteen is a time for joy.”

  Millicent’s eyes actually sparkled as I kissed her quickly on the cheek. “Thank you.”

  My mom had a funny expression on her face when I sat down, as if she was concentrating really hard. “Bertram bought that emerald for Emily when she was pregnant with Tallulah—” Her eyes cleared as she looked at Millicent. “Your mother. He said it came from India and had belonged to a princess, so to a princess it would go.” My mom looked relieved to have gotten the words out, but then confused at why everyone was staring at her, and she lapsed back into silence.

  I looked at Millicent and whispered. “It should go to your family.”

  “You are my family,” she whispered back.

  “We interrupted something when we came in. What was this about the power to compel?” Mr. Shaw asked.

  “We believe it is the power of the Monger’s Family artifact – the ring. But Saira seems to be unaffected by it, which means perhaps the other mixed-blood Descendants are too.” I was glad Archer answered. I wasn’t sure of my footing with Mr. Shaw after his outburst at me the night before. Archer handed Mr. Shaw Ringo’s book. “The Monger ring has the red stone in it.”

  Mr. Shaw flipped the book over to see its title, then looked up in surprise. The Treasures of the Vatican?

  Ringo responded. “It went missin’ from Vatican City in 1842.”

  Mr. Shaw held the page open for my mom. “This is the ring that was on Seth Walters’ hand when he lied to you. This is the ring that makes those lies sound like truths.” My mom actually looked away, as if it was a picture of dead kittens or something. Liz held her hand out for the book.

  “May I?” she said. Mr. Shaw handed it to his sister, and she studied the page for a long moment, then placed it in front of Jeeves.

  “What do you see, Mason?”

  He looked down at the page
compliantly, shied away for a second, then seemed to force his eyes back to the page. Then he pointed to the Blood of Christ ring. “That was on his hand.”

  I held my breath, and I don’t think I was the only one. “On whose hand, Mason?” Liz asked gently.

  He closed his eyes, and Connor’s face fell. But then he opened them again, and looked straight at Connor’s mom. “On Walters’ hand when he made me stop the car for Claire and Saira.”

  There was a collective sigh in the room, though Liz never let Jeeves’ eyes leave hers. “What happened next, Mason?”

  I thought she was deliberately using his name to keep him present. He winced for a second, but then his eyes cleared again. “I don’t know,” he said. “It’s as though I were underwater with my eyes open, but anything I saw or heard was … distorted.”

  “Is it distorted now?” She asked him.

  Jeeves touched Liz’s face gently. “No. I see you very clearly.”

  The smile she gave him felt almost too private to witness, and there seemed to be hope lacing the tentative smile he returned. He finally turned his gaze to the rest of us, and when it landed on me, he looked relieved. “You’re unharmed, Saira?”

  I nodded. “Archer stopped them.” I got up and went over to Liz. “Can I see the book again, please?” She handed it to me, and I took it back to my mother. “Mom, tell me what you see.”

  She shied away from the picture again, and I used the most firm, gentle, mom-voice I could find in my arsenal. “It can’t hurt you now, Mom. It’s just a drawing in a book. It has no power here.”

  She looked back at the page, but just couldn’t keep her eyes focused on the ring. They kept sliding away as if it was just too much to bear. “I can’t … Saira.” She said, with effort. But it didn’t sound like she was saying my name, more like she was talking about me.

  “I’m right here, Mom. The ring has no power over me, and Seth knows it. I think it’s why he’s been after me. I’m a threat to him when he uses that ring, because I can’t be compelled by it.”