by Jenn Bennett
While Lon read to himself, I anxiously thumbed through the rest of the paperwork. More loose pages in French that I couldn’t read. A photocopy of a Moonchild ritual from the 1800s with red lines crossing out entire chunks of the text. A page containing a woodcut print of a pregnant woman with the head of a sun and a pictorial map of the world below her. It was labeled GEHEIME FIGUREN DER ROSENKREUZER, 1785. Gothic script above the woman’s sun-disk head said: SOPHIA.
I opened my mouth to tell Lon, but when I picked up the paper, I saw what was on the bottom of the box.
The torn fragment of parchment stolen from the snake temple.
Invocation of the Great Serpent.
It was in English, and the calligraphy and old spellings were mostly readable. It wasn’t a ritual, really. No instructions about laying out this or that protection circle, no binding or ward.
It was a prayer of sorts, a set of sacred words to call down a powerful, godlike being from the Æthyr. A strange summoning seal was crudely drawn in the center of the parchment, like no demonic seal I’d ever seen. And as I read to the end, skipping over the mumbo-jumbo, I realized something important.
This was not for summoning an Æthyric being into a circle for a chat. Nor was it a spell to draw down the creature’s essence into a womb to create a Moonchild.
It had nothing to do with a conception ritual.
It was a set of instructions to call down this creature into a living human body.
A male body.
Not my mother but my father.
Dazed and disbelieving, I let go of the parchment and watched it drift back down into the box, then glanced up to see Lon’s gaze lift from the fallen page. He cupped my cheek with his hand, and I heard his emotions echoing mine.
“The Moonchild ritual was just meaningless ceremonial bullshit,” I said. “All they did was invoke this serpentine being into my father. Any magician with half my skills could do it. All my mom did was have sex with my dad while he was possessed by some kind of nocturnal proto-demon creature.”
“Cady . . .”
“Don’t you get it? Priya said all I had to do was figure out what kind of magick my parents used and remove it, but he was wrong. How can I reverse this? I’m a stew of psychotic human and demon DNA.”
Lon didn’t deny it.
Tears burned my eyes. I backhanded the metal box off the console, sending my parents’ cache of money flying, and roared at the pain that shot through my knuckles. When Lon tried to reach for me, I stormed away and headed to the hallway I’d seen in my vision, where my parents first appeared. It branched off to two bedrooms with nothing in them but stripped mattresses. Empty closets. Another empty room with traces of red ochre chalk on the wooden floor. An avocado-green kitchen that looked as if it hadn’t been updated since the 1960s. I strode through it, opening cabinets and drawers, flinging silverware across the peeling countertops. Nothing and more nothing. Not a damn thing but old grease splatters and a door that led to the backyard. I unlocked it and marched outside.
Remembering the diagram my mother had drawn, I strode through dead grass and made my way through scraggly underbrush to a clearing ringed with winter-bare trees.
Here it was. A February moon shone down on the place where they’d made me. I stared up at the dark sky. No magical hot spot or carefully designed ritual space. Just a plain old clearing on some property they’d bought out of convenience, where rich old men hunted wild boars for sport.
I heard Lon’s boots crunching through the brittle grass and sighed as he stopped by my side and stared up at the sky with me.
After a few moments of silence, cold night air sent a shiver through me. I stuck my hands into my pockets. “All of this was for nothing. I spent my entire adult life on the run to protect them, and they didn’t need protecting. And when I finally decide to start living my own life, what do I do? I come here. Of all the places in the country I could choose, I come right back where it all started. How sick is that?”
“Cady—”
“I’ve been running in circles, and I just can’t get away. I send them to the goddamn Æthyr, and she’s still got her nasty claws in me. I feel like a puppet that can’t shake the puppet master. Was I drawn here because she’s still puppeting me? Am I still Sélène?”
Lon was silent for several moments. “You may not feel it now, but you love me. You’re fucking crazy about me, and you’re crazy about Jupe. So maybe you were drawn here because I needed you and because my boy needed a mother.”
I swiped away tears, unable to respond.
“Or that could just be coincidence,” he said, looking back up at the sky. “Maybe you were drawn here because you’re the only person strong enough to stop Enola.”
“Maybe,” I whispered.
“I’ll tell you one thing I know for certain. When I read that chart she made of your life, I didn’t see a puppet. I saw a girl who shocked her own father in self-defense, who was rebellious and had to be carefully controlled. A girl who was a threat to them, even when she was a child. So despite whatever your mother chose to call you, you’ve never really been Sélène. You’ve always been Cady. Be that girl now. Be yourself. Enola Duval has no power over Arcadia Bell.”
I stared up at him, breathing hard and tamping down chaotic sentiments. “You know, you’re probably my favorite person in the entire world right now,” I said, trying to be lighthearted about what he was making me feel. And oh, the intense emotion that radiated from him when I said that. Strong enough to make me suck in a startled breath. Whatever it was, it cut through my remaining indecision.
Shutting out my surroundings, I yanked up my coat sleeve and stuck my finger in my mouth. Then I swiped saliva across the white-ink tattoo on my inner arm to charge Priya’s homing sigil.
“Priya, come,” I commanded, willing my guardian to appear.
The air fluctuated a few feet in front of me. I backed up and watched a slim, bare-chested figure step out of the night, all silver skin and dark, spiky hair crowned with a halo of black smoke, with shiny black wings folded behind his back. A beautiful sight and a massive relief to see him again, unharmed and whole.
“Mistress!” His black eyes blinked rapidly, as if I were the one who’d materialized in front of him. “I am so happy to see you. So very happy.”
“The feeling is mutual, my friend.”
He pushed back a lock of black hair that had fallen over one eye. “Why did you summon me? You should be using the Kerub’s boy . . .” He trailed off and flicked an unhappy look at Lon before offering him a begrudging nod in greeting. “You shouldn’t be calling me directly,” Priya corrected. “It isn’t safe.”
“I know. But I need you to deliver a message for me. Can you do that?”
“Of course. Anything.”
“First, I want to show you something.”
I willed the transmutation to come, trying my best not to tap into moon power as silver coated my vision and my body began changing. I caught my tail just in time and guided it over the stretchy waistband of my yoga pants—much easier than jeans—letting it coil around my wrist as it grew.
Priya’s jaw dropped, flashing me two rows of pointy silver teeth as he gaped at the change. Then he dropped to one knee, black wings rustling as the tips dragged over the ground. “Mistress,” he said as he bowed his head.
“Look at me, Priya.”
His face tilted up to meet my gaze. “Mother of Ahriman. Your word is my command.”
“Then I’m commanding you now. Go to my mother in the Æthyr. Don’t identify yourself. Just deliver her a message.”
“Anything.”
“Tell her if she wants me, she’s going to have to come down here and face the monster she created.”
“Mistress, please, that is unwise. I believe she is close to uncovering how to cross the planes.”
I thought of my mother’s embossed sigil on her journal. There was a reason it was altered and a reason she’d kept that version hidden from the rest of the order
. And when I considered every revelation I’d uncovered in that evil metal box of hers, this small detail might be the most important.
I knelt down in front of Priya and grasped his taloned hand in mine. “I don’t give a damn whether she’s learned to cross over or not.” I leaned close to his face and whispered, “I’m going to summon her psychotic ass down here myself.”
The following night, just before sunset, Jupe watched the red taillights of his father’s black pickup truck disappear down the back road of their property. Cady had gone with him. She was in a really weird mood. All Dad said was that the two of them were doing important magick and warned Jupe not to leave the house under any circumstance until they got back. The Holidays would be there in about an hour to lock down the house.
Jupe knew this had to do with Cady’s mom. But Dad wouldn’t tell him anything, which sucked, big-time. Imagining all the things that could be happening had to be ten times worse than knowing. Plus, when he got home from school, he saw they had a bucket of pig’s blood from a slaughterhouse outside of town.
Major shit was going down. Scary shit.
Like he was going to just sit around here and jump at shadows? Screw that.
He had a good idea where they were headed, because the back road was a half-mile long and only really led to three places: Mr. and Mrs. Holiday’s cabin, an open-air shed, and the beach at the bottom of the cliff. No way would the Holidays let Dad anywhere near their cabin with blood. That left the shed and the beach. Sand and blood seemed like a messy combination, and it might rain tonight, so he was betting on the shed, because it was covered and walled in on three sides. Apart from a tractor and some tools, the thing was empty.
Before he sneaked down there, he would call up Priya to find out if he knew anything. But first he called Leticia to give her an update on what was happening. Leticia was at the retirement Hobbit house, a.k.a. Racist Grandma Vega’s apartment. His original plan was to meet her there, but when all this shit starting transpiring, he’d asked her if she could come here instead. And as his dad’s pickup truck’s engine rumbled down the hill, Jupe’s phone chimed with her answer. He held his breath.
MSG from Leticia, 6:40 p.m.: Grandma Vega fell asleep. I’ve got two hours before my sister picks me up. I could take a taxi to your house if you tell me how to get there.
Hot damn.
It took her about twenty minutes. No way would Dad ever forgive him if he allowed a taxi across the house ward, so Jupe met her at the electronic gate and let her in after she paid the driver. Tonight she wore a fur-trimmed gray vest over her pink hoodie, and her hair was back in the messy buns behind her ears. She stuck her hands into her pockets and smiled at him as he punched the close button on the gate.
Foxglove jumped up on her. “Down, Foxglove, you damn freak. Sorry, she’s just extra friendly. She won’t bite or anything.”
“Hello, Foxglove.” She bent low and held out her hand. After a quick sniff, Foxglove gave it a good approval lick. Leticia scrunched up her nose and wiped her hand on her jeans as she stood.
“You wrestle a wolf for that vest?” Jupe asked, using it as an excuse to look her over freely without seeming too creepy.
“It’s fake fur. Stop looking at my boobs.”
Dammit. Best not to admit anything. He walked her up the gravel road toward the house. “It’s only seven. Your grandma goes to bed that early? Mine stays up past midnight.”
“Whoop-di-freaking-doo. And no, she usually doesn’t go to bed that early. I gave her wine at dinner.”
“Damn, Leticia! You don’t play.”
“Watch yourself, Jupiter,” she said with a sly smile. “I know all sorts of ways to manipulate you if I want to.”
“Maybe I want to be manipulated.”
She shoved his arm and made him stumble off the road.
“Hey!” He laughed and pretended to shove her back, but she raised an eyebrow in warning, so he gave up on that idea.
She whistled as they crested a hill and crossed the house ward. “That’s your house? Whoa. Your dad is loaded. That looks like something out of an architectural magazine.”
“We’re not crazy rich or anything. He inherited this property from his parents. It’s just that my dad’s an artist, so he likes things to look good.”
“My dad’s an engineer, so our place is pretty nice, but it looks like every other house on the block. This is cool. Your dad has good taste.”
“Wait until you see inside.” Jupe unlocked the front door and held it open for her. “But I’ll have to give you a tour another time. We only have forty-five minutes before the Holidays show up, and there’s something I want to show you.”
She gave him that little judge-y eyebrow tilt as she slid past him, smelling of strawberry jam and shampoo, and he almost lost his mind. If they’d had more time, that house tour could have gotten her inside his room. But as it stood now, he was just happy she was here at all.
“Tell me more about this big thing you’ve been texting me about,” she said as he led her into the living room, which was a bad idea, because now she was looking at his baby pictures.
“I’m not a hundo percent sure, but I think Cady and my dad are doing a summoning down at my dad’s workshop.”
“Wow.” She glanced out the patio window, looking nervous. “Where’s this workshop?”
“In a shed on the other side of the cliff. We can get there in five minutes if we walk fast. But here’s the part I want to show you first. Have you ever heard of a Hermeneus spirit?”
“Sure. Guardian angels. Everyone’s heard of those.”
“You don’t have one . . . do you?”
She shook her head. “Grandma Vega used to, but it died. I heard it, though, a couple of times when she called it. It’s sort of spooky, like talking to a ghost. I mean, not that ghosts are real.”
He chuckled. “Boy, have I got some news for you. I’ve seen shit you wouldn’t believe.”
“You curse too much, Jupiter.”
“Don’t get prudish on me now, Lett.” He knew the second he said it that she wouldn’t be happy, and sure enough, she gave him the devil eyebrow again. “Look, I didn’t call you Letty, so relax. Besides, I’m about to show you something that’s going to blow your freakin’ mind.”
She crossed her arms over her gray vest. “Okay, go on, then. Dazzle me, Houdini.”
Oh, he would. He pulled out Priya’s sigil from his wallet and dramatically spit on the card. So far, she didn’t seem impressed, but she would be. “Priya, come,” he said loudly, then to her, “You’d better back up. He needs room to land if he’s flying.”
“Who?”
“Priya, come,” Jupe said louder, and nervously smiled at Leticia.
They stood together, listening to the clock tick on the mantel. He wiped sweat off his forehead. She looked at him like he’d gone fruit-loopy. This was getting embarrassing.
Jupe tried once more, this time with extra spitting.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Nothing.
“What the hell?” he mumbled.
“Are you seriously telling me you’ve got a guardian?” Leticia said.
“He’s Cady’s. But we’re connected. It’s a long story. But I call him every day, just about. He always comes right away. I mean, always. You think maybe I don’t have enough Heka to call him? I’m not a magician.”
“You might try blood.”
Crap. He really didn’t want to do that. But he also didn’t want to look weak in front of her, so he nicked himself with a knife from the kitchen and bled a couple of drops of blood onto the card. But when he called Priya a fourth time and the guardian didn’t show, he knew something was wrong.
“You think he could be mad at me?” Jupe asked.
“Hermeneus spirits are servants. They don’t get mad. If their owner calls, they come every time. Well, I take that back. My grandma called her guardian a couple of years ago, and it never came, so that’s how she later found out it had died in the Æthyr.”
Died? “Oh . . . shit.” A terrible fear pricked at Jupe’s nerves. He pretty much hated Priya’s guts, but that didn’t mean he wanted the guy dead. Cady would freak out, and she already had enough on her plate. Last night, after the big talk, Dad had told him the memory magick was still active, so she still didn’t remember she was pregnant or that she and Dad were practically engaged.
On top of all that, if Priya died, who would keep tabs on Cady’s mom in the Æthyr?
He took out his phone and started to text his dad but remembered that he had specifically told him not to bother them, that they wouldn’t answer his texts. They’d only been gone, what, a half hour? They weren’t starting until the Holidays called to confirm they were all safe inside the house, so Jupe still had about thirty minutes.
He pocketed his phone and Priya’s card. “We need to go find my dad and Cady right now. This definitely qualifies as an emergency. Come on.”
They rushed out into the night air, Foxglove at their heels, and he showed Leticia the back road the pickup truck had taken. If she hadn’t been with him, he would have run, but he didn’t want her to think he was freaking out as much as he actually was. After a couple of minutes, the Holidays’ cabin came into sight, the windows glowing with warm yellow light. “Stay on the other side of the road, and if they spot us, I’ll do the talking.”
But they didn’t come out. And once Jupe and Leticia began hiking down the next switchback turn in the road, more lights shone in the distance. The shed. A metal wall hid the inside from view, but Jupe could just make out his dad’s pickup truck parked in the dirt driveway that looped around back. Thank God.
Foxglove started running toward the shed before Jupe broke down and did the same, his sense of urgency outweighing his eagerness to rack up coolness points with Leticia. Then the damn dog started barking, and Jupe couldn’t shut her up. No sense trying to hide things anymore; Cady and Dad would definitely know they were coming now.
“Jupe!” Leticia called out, just behind him.
He glanced over his shoulder and saw her pointing up at the sky, then swung back around to follow the direction of her finger. He saw it, too: a black shape falling like a torpedo. It was too big to be a person, too dark to be a falling star. A gigantic boulder? Crap, maybe it was a meteor! Foxglove was going nuts now, heading straight for it.
