Kindling The Moon

by Jenn Bennett

  35

  The Big Sur region of California that borders Morella and La Sirena to the south is one of the most beautiful parts of the entire country. Rolling green mountains stretch across one side of Highway One, and the Pacific’s waves crash on the other at the bottom of craggy, lush cliffs.

  Going this way, instead of taking Five—the faster route— added an extra hour or more to my drive, as Lon tried to point out to me, but I didn’t care. The mental serenity it provided was well worth it. It wasn’t a weekend, so there weren’t too many people slowing down traffic by constantly pulling over at scenic spots. I’d hit L.A. after rush hour and would still get to San Diego well before 11 p.m.

  “Hard to believe it’s real, huh?” I said to Riley Cooper as I drove. “The view, I mean.”

  She sat in the passenger seat smacking gum. “Fantastic. I’m kinda sorry you’re taking me home. I’ve never felt so calm and relaxed in my life.”

  “Vacation can’t last forever.” And neither would my supply of the opiate elixir I’d been using to dose her.

  She sighed. “True, true.”

  “I’m sorry about the accident, Riley.”

  She shrugged. “I feel much better now, no harm done. To tell you the truth, Jane, I’m really glad I came. It was nice to catch up after all these years.” The smile she gave me was so authentic that I almost believed we were old friends. Then I reminded myself that the real Riley had hurt Jupe.

  A couple hours into our drive, I stopped at a gas station and called her father, Magus Zorn, in private on her cell phone, using up the last of her battery. He was alarmed and demanded to speak to her. I refused, but told him that she was okay and wasn’t hurt, except for the missing tooth. Like Riley, Magus Zorn denied knowledge of Caliph Superior’s whereabouts, but it was hard to tell if he was lying over the phone. Regardless, I told him to make sure his council was ready for me to prove my parents’ innocence at midnight. I figured that gave me time enough to talk to them beforehand.

  I tried to keep my eyes on the road, but I had a terrible headache and was fighting constant nausea. A couple of times I almost blacked out, but it passed quickly. Of course I would manage to get sick during all this, probably from that stupid midnight dip in the ocean.

  Early that morning, before I left Lon’s house, I scribbled a quick note to him and asked Jupe to deliver it. I made him swear not to read it, but I doubt those kinds of promises mean to much to a stubborn thirteen-year-old.

  Dear Neanderthal,

  There is no way I could possibly thank you for everything you’ve done for me, even if you only did it to get me in the sack. No matter what happens, I will pay you back the money you wired to Spooner. My order has it. You may not be a thief, but I don’t like being in debt to people. I was going to tell you some mushy private stuff, but I don’t really trust Jupe not to read this. Plus you already know it all anyway, maybe better than I do.

  —Cady

  It was just after ten when I pulled into a deserted parking lot on the edge of Old Town. I paused to inspect the building across the street. Hard to believe, but there it was, the infamous Luxe Sapphire Temple. The place where the final— attempted—Black Lodge slaying had failed seven years ago. And the place my parents had been framed, when all they’d wanted to do was mediate peaceful talks between the other occult organizations.

  As a rule, I usually avoid any of our rival orders’ temples and lodges, on the off chance that someone might recognize me; however, one time out of curiosity, I’d driven by this particular building when Kar Yee and I were loping around California after college. The largest occult temple in the world, their website claimed. It was intimidatingly big and contemporary in design, topped with a three-sided triangular blue glass window on the roof; the blue pyramid was lit from the inside and illuminated the night sky like a beacon, easily seen from blocks away. It was so grand and distracting that I almost failed to notice the series of Heka-charged wards around the main parking lot. I had no doubts that if I crossed those wards, I’d be attacked, so I kept my distance.

  According to their propaganda, the inner temple held over a thousand people. So crazy. Like one of those megachurches that brings in flocks of attendees every Sunday. Quality, not quantity, as the caliph always said. I wondered if he would be here tonight, and if so, on whose side would he be standing?

  I pulled my rental into a dark parking space under a tree at the edge of the empty lot and rolled down my window. The night air was brisk but energizing. I’d been stuck in the car far too long. Such a shame we didn’t arrive in the daytime. After navigating around the brown, smog-filled skyline of L.A., San Diego was the promised land, with warm, clear blue skies and even bluer water.

  Dull yellow lights glowed from the smaller windows around the sides of the temple. A handful of cars were parked near an entrance, but I didn’t see any people or movement. I patted my jacket, double-checking that the crystal talon was still tucked away safely in the inner pocket. A copy of the White Ice Demon class seal was rolled around the talon for easy access, but I’d also memorized it, and hidden a spare piece of red ochre chalk in the side of my sock, just in case.

  Riley was snoring loudly in the seat beside me; I’d dosed her one last time when we stopped outside of L.A. for gas. I’m sure my parents weren’t going to be thrilled about the kidnapping. Nothing I could do about it now but own up to it.

  Oddly enough, I was nervous to see them. It had been years, after all, since that last time my mom flew from France to see me in college. I’d changed a lot; I was sure they had too. I didn’t worry about it for too long, because the air bubbled outside the open driver’s window and Scivina materialized.

  You are here, she said stoically.

  “Hello to you too. Where are my parents?”

  She didn’t answer me. Before I could say another word, she faded away.

  “Hey!” I cried to the distorted air she left in her wake.

  Pissed off, I stepped out of the rental, leaving the door open. A long black limo pulled into the lot. I stuck one foot back inside the car, wary, but the limo door opened and a familiar figure emerged.

  “Mom?”

  She was wearing a well-cut navy business suit and had her dark hair pinned up, the crown of it now gray. Not only that, but her face was harder; the lines around her mouth were more deeply etched and she’d lost weight. The long, straight nose and deep-set eyes were still the same, but her complexion was sallow. She looked as if she’d aged ten years or more. It broke my heart a little.

  My feet didn’t want to move. I felt unexplainably shy, like a child. Older or not, she still commanded a great deal of respect. People always said that about her. She could just step into a room and everyone would stop what they were doing to look at her.

  She strode to me with outstretched arms. “Darling,” she said, a sliver of her once heavy French accent slipping in.

  Her arms folded around me, and I stiffened. Then I smelled her perfume and her hair, and I fell into her. It was like being drawn into a soft, warm cocoon. Everything just went away, all the worry and stress and bad feelings. My persistent headache pulsed a little softer, and I almost forgot why I’d come. None of it mattered. Only that she was there.

  The shoulder of her jacket was wet when I pulled away, but I didn’t realize I’d been crying.

  She held my face in her hands. “Hello, my beautiful girl. It’s all okay now, yes?”

  I nodded rapidly, sniffling. There was so much I wanted to say, but my tongue was numb. It was all I could do to breathe and stand up straight.

  “Seléne.” A low voice sounded from behind her.

  I looked over her shoulder to glimpse my father standing there.

  “Dad.”

  His short walnut brown hair was going gray like my mom’s. Especially over his ears. Even his eyebrows were gray. Jesus, they’re old. My mind recalled all the recent U.S. presidents, the stress of the office rapidly aging them over four years’ time—how you could look at b
efore and after photos and be shocked by the difference.

  He made a one-word comment to my mom under his breath that I didn’t quite catch as she moved out of the way. He was wearing black dress pants and a white shirt with the sleeves folded up to the elbows. He smiled, offering me a gleaming white mouthful of teeth. It was his used-car-salesman smile. I always used to tease him about that. It was worse in photos.

  We hugged, briefly, and he pushed me back to look at me before I was ready to end it. Brown eyes darted over my face. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have much time, and I need to know a few things.”

  “Okay, but I have some good news …”

  He gripped my shoulders. “Have you experienced any change in your magical ability?”

  Oh, thank God. They knew about the moon kindling. “Two nights ago, I was able to banish an incubus and his mate back to the Æthyr. I didn’t summon them.”

  “Tell me exactly what happened,” my father instructed. “It is important.”

  I told them about the room darkening to black, about the blue light that drew the symbols in the air. My mother cried out, then covered her face with her hands and tilted her head to the night sky.

  “What’s wrong? Is that bad? Is something wrong with me?” I asked.

  She raised both arms up and said something in French, while my dad grinned his funny grin and patted my back with enthusiasm. “No, no. It’s wonderful. Perfect. It is exactly as the old books said it should be. On your twenty-fifth birthday, your powers will manifest.” He grabbed my mother and embraced her as her eyes teared with joy. “We did it, my love. They doubted us, but we did it!” He laughed into her hair and kissed her head several times.

  I suddenly felt left out. Hello? Haven’t seen me in years? And weren’t there more pressing concerns? Annoyance flared up inside me. “So what is this power? And how could it be more important than the Luxe council? You do know that they’re planning to kill you, right? They tried to kidnap me.” I pointed at Riley’s snoozing figure in the car. “That’s Magus Zorn’s girl—the Luxe leader sent his own daughter after me.”

  My mother squinted into the car. “Mmm. She might be useful later.”

  “No time for that, Enola.” My dad tapped his watch. “We need to get going.”

  “Wait!” I protested. “I have big news. I found the white demon. We can call it to prove your innocence.” My irritation faded, replaced by a surge of excitement as I waited for their reaction.

  My dad smiled, and I for a moment I was ten again, being praised for acing a test. But while he was grinning, something slipped out under his breath. “Merde.” His mouth barely moved when he said it. My mother poked him on his hip with one finger, admonishing him. His grin got bigger. “That’s wonderful. Good job. Well-done. Come here.”

  I shook away my confusion and stepped forward to hug him. As my arms went around his neck, a gleam of metal moved in his hand. I barely felt the warmth of his palm against my back when something jabbed the side of my neck. I cried out, drawing away and reaching over my shoulder. As I did, he pulled back a syringe.

  “What—what are you doing?” My fingers found the tiny stinging wound. I shuffled away from them in horror as my vision blurred and doubled. “Dad?” My feet stumbled. A rush of pinpricks slid down my arms. I reached for the open car door to brace myself. Just as I did, my knees quivered.

  Numb. Frozen. I was able to see and hear when my face hit the pavement, I just couldn’t feel anything. Not my legs or my arms. I wasn’t sure I was breathing anymore. That worried me, but I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Confusion clouded my thoughts.

  The ground spun and glimmered with light. In the distance, dark shapes bounded out of the Luxe temple, running toward us. Animals, maybe. No, people.

  I was surrounded by strong hands. My parents. Another man. They picked me up off the ground and carried me to the limo. The dark figures kept running toward me, but I was inside a tornado and they’d never breach it in time. If I can’t breathe, will I die? I thought in a druggy haze.

  As hands pushed my head down into the limo, I tried to call back to people running toward us, but I just couldn’t. I had no voice.

  It didn’t matter. It was too late anyway.

  The swirling, black vortex drew me up and away.

  36

  A slow bead of sweat trickled down the nape of my neck. When it ran down my back, I realized that my nose was cold. Actually, cold on one side, hot on the other. That was strange. Strange enough to speed my ascent into consciousness. My eyes opened.

  I was outdoors. A clearing in the woods that was bare of grass. A rocky hill lay in front of me, several dozen yards in the distance. A single man clothed in ritual robes stood at the base. His head was bowed, as if in prayer or meditation.

  My vision was tinted red. Blurry. Obstructed, perhaps?

  A ring of luminaries circled the surrounding area, but they weren’t projecting as much light as the Æthyric glow that brightened three points around me like compass markings. Small binding triangles were carved into the ground. One was directly in front of me, some distance away—ten yards, maybe. Two on either side of me. When I realized what was inside the triangles, I felt certain one lay behind me as well.

  All were pulsing with light and flickered with movement; translucent entities were trapped within each one. Metaphysical holograms, just like my guardian Priya. But these weren’t friendly messenger spirits, they were Æthyric demons.

  The first, ensnared in the circle straight ahead of me, was built like a rock, twice the size of a human, with massive legs and feet. His skin was the texture of tree bark.

  To my left was a human-size woman with round features and long, wavy hair. She wore a loose shift, the hem of which was tattered and dripping with water.

  In the circle on my right was a winged, male, sylphlike demon. His wings opened and closed anxiously as he paced the inside of his circle, searching for a way out.

  And just behind me, elongated flame-shaped shadows flickered on the ground.

  Earth, Water, Air, Fire.

  I was inside an enormous circle, the cardinal points of which were stationed by four metaphysical projections of Æthyric demons who represented four elements. The projections were also unstable; they occasionally disappeared altogether, only to remanifest a second later.

  “She’s awake.”

  My vision left a blurry trail as I moved my head toward the voice.

  It came from my father, now dressed in an elaborately decorated ritual robe; my mother stood next to him wearing much the same. Handwritten symbols streaked across their necks. They were smiling, and their faces looked red and blurry. I shook my head, attempting to get rid of the obstruction in front of my eyes. It clung to my face like a spiderweb.

  “What are you doing?” I asked. My voice echoed weakly, going nowhere and traveling for miles at the same time. “Why did you dose me? Who were those people chasing us?”

  “Probably the caliph. He’s been tracking us through our guardians for the last week.” My father smiled, then added, “As if we wouldn’t notice. Don’t worry, though. We warded you on our way over here and temporarily banished our guardians—no bread crumbs for him to follow now.”

  And no deflector charm to protect me, either, thanks to the events at the Hellfire caves. I did my best to sober myself up, but whatever they’d used to drug me was laced with magick. “Why am I here?”

  My mother floated in front of me like a dream. “Seléne … you’re here to fulfill your destiny. You have returned to us like Malkuth returns to Kether.”

  “We didn’t realize the role you would eventually play all those years ago when we conceived you,” my dad explained, “but Frater Blue enlightened us.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? Who’s Frater Blue?”

  My father’s hand gestured to the praying man outside the circle. “Does he not look familiar to you? He was present when you were conceived.”

  The mage who presided over th
e Moonchild ritual? That name didn’t sound right. “I thought that was Frater Oben? Who is Frater Blue? Is that another magical name, or another member of the E∴E∴?”

  “A rogue magician,” my mother said. “We met him in Dallas a couple of years before you were born.”

  “You lied to the caliph? Why did you tell him it was another mage?”

  My dad laughed. “Work with someone outside the order? We’d have been expelled.”

  I didn’t think that was true; the caliph had been okay with the fact that I’d worked with other magicians over the last few years. Or was that a lie? Confusion clouded my thoughts. I strained to see the robed man, this Frater Blue. He had light-colored hair. Maybe white. I couldn’t tell. Wait … the Tamlins, the crazy couple in San Francisco who told me about the glass talon and the mystery man they saw running from the crime scene in Portland … was Frater Blue the man who committed the murders? The man who conjured the white demon? I laughed out loud. Surely it was the drug talking. I was making connections that weren’t there.

  “Why is he here, Frater Blue? Why are we all here? What are you doing?”

  A soft night breeze fluttered my mother’s graying hair. “Magick requires patience and time. Rituals take too long. All the summonings and spells require manual work.” She spoke dramatically, with an intensity behind her eyes. Like she was giving a speech to an audience at some occult gathering. I’d sat through more of those speeches than I could remember when I was a teenager. “Technology improves and science continually advances,” she continued. “But we use the same crude techniques that were used a thousand years ago. We’ve made no progress. Humans no longer use typewriters, they use computers—magicians use the same crushed minerals. We labor to draw the same old symbols to conjure and control the Æthryic spirits one at a time.”