His mother was one of the most uncompromising and demanding people he’d ever met. It had taken a lot to get them to stop trying for a second child.
Lucia had been a terrible parent, second only to his father. Salvador had believed for years he’d reached the point where he no longer cared what they did. But seeing her now—pregnant and prepared to put herself through hell again—and he wasn’t so sure.
Tears stung his eyes, but he knew better than to let them fall. Lucia hated tears. “I hope so. I truly do.”
By silent agreement, they walked down to the vault together. There was only one way in and one way out.
His father was still undoing the wards that secured the entrance. “I think we beat her here.”
“I doubt that,” Salvador said with a shrug.
“The walls are two feet thick,” Fulgencio scoffed as he undid the fire-repelling ward. “This vault is the most highly fortified room on the continent. It’s more secure than any bank in the world.”
“Maybe… but Gia is already inside,” Salvador repeated.
His mother rolled her eyes, but the argument was pointless. His father had undone the last ward.
Lucia did the honors. After nudging Fulgencio out of the way, she stood in front of the double doors and held up her arms, chanting briefly in a mix of Italian and Latin.
The heavy stone doors swung toward them. Soft luminescence lit the chamber full of shelves, small cells, and the odd pedestal.
“You got rid of the torches,” Salvador observed. His parents had always been traditionalists, but he was glad to see they were moving with the times.
A curved shelf blocked the view of the rest of the chamber. It was one of many. From a bird’s eye view, the arrangement of shelves and cupboards formed a celestial pattern—the outer edges a rough circle. Priceless antiquities and works of art were stored down here. Never-before-seen paintings from the old masters lined the walls, interspersed with cubbies that housed museum-quality antiques. They were all on the outer edges because they were the least valuable items in the room.
Magic was the currency of the Seven families. The outer rings held the lesser charms and talismans, along with occult books of middling significance. The farther inside, the more magical the objects became. They were also more dangerous.
They found Gia in the center. One of the pedestals to the left of the haunted Rodin statue was empty.
Formally, Gia inclined her head. “Fulgencio, Lucia, greetings,” she said, almost conversationally before gesturing in the direction of the empty pedestal. “Is something missing?”
When he was growing up, Salvador had been quizzed relentlessly on the items in the vault. Knowing one’s history is the key to innovation, his tutor had repeatedly said. We stand on the shoulders of giants. He should have known what belonged there, but the contents of the central ring had shifted placement while others had been removed since he’d been here last.
“Nothing is missing. An artifact is out for cleaning,” his father acidly bit out. “Now explain why you are violating my family’s vault and inner sanctum?”
Gia didn’t respond. She studied his mother. A flicker of pity and concern crossed her face. Of course she would have known about his parents many failed attempts to have a second child.
The Earth Elemental approached Lucia. Alarmed, his father stepped in front of her, trying to shield her.
“It’s okay,” Salvador said. The Elementals might consider his parents a threat. Unlike some members of his family, though, Gia would never harm an innocent…
The Elemental held up her hands, her expression benign and open. “May I?”
His father snorted, but he twisted to Lucia with a glance that asked what she wanted. Lucia flicked her hand, gesturing for him to move aside. When Gia put her hands on Lucia’s burgeoning stomach, his mother held still.
Salvador held his breath. Everyone did.
Gia lifted a brow. “Healthy,” she pronounced. “With a strong heartbeat. The baby’s development appears to be on track.”
She put her hands down. “Congratulations. I expect you’ll be adding another leaf to the family tree around the Equinox.”
Salvador’s mouth dropped open. Shit. He was going to be a big brother after all.
Salvador’s mother and father stared at each other. His father blinked rapidly. Lucia gazed down, putting a hand on her stomach. “Thank you,” she said hoarsely. His father ran a hand down his face, quickly giving them his back.
After sucking in a deep breath, his father turned around to face them. “We know the child is female.”
With a nod, Gia lifted her hand. She waved it across his mother’s stomach. “May the Mother’s blessing be upon her.”
Salvador frowned as a muted luminescence in the Elemental’s hand faded.
“Oh. Well, thank you for that.” Seeming uncertain, his mother touch trembling fingers to her mouth. It was an emotion he wasn’t used to seeing her express.
His father cleared his throat. “Yes, we are grateful for the blessing.” It was to Fulgencio’s credit that he only sounded a little hostile.
The corner of Gia’s mouth lifted. Salvador doubted she had ever heard such a sentiment from any Delavordo—well other than him. “You’re welcome.”
Reaching out, she patted the empty pedestal. “And I hope you finish… cleaning… this artifact soon. Its absence is throwing off the dampening effect of the Solis configuration,” she said, referring to the celestial pattern the family used to make sure the artifacts didn’t react.
Magic was inherently unstable. When an object was imbued with enough of it, they were able to affect the space—and sometimes even the people—around them. With more than one truly powerful piece, things got interesting.
Cross-reactivity was a big problem with collections like this, which was why they organized artifacts into specific patterns with occult properties. When aligned properly, the harmonic resonance of the objects were muted. It required maintenance because the energy of magical objects fluctuated, sometimes unpredictably. If one of the anchor points—like an item powerful enough to be on one of his family’s pedestals—was missing for too long, then the buffering effect of the design broke down. The results could be catastrophic.
“Do you want me to adjust the pattern?” Salvador asked. That had been one of his chores growing up.
“No, I’ll do it,” his father said, a touch snappishly. “Can you tell us why you came?”
“Ciro’s divining rod,” Salvador said.
His mother frowned. “That stick?”
Fulgencio’s nostrils flared. “Excuse me, that is one of the family’s most precious artifacts,” he snapped.
“Please,” Lucia said. “It’s a worthless stick that does nothing.”
“Just because you couldn’t get it to work—”
“We,” his mother interrupted. “We couldn’t get it to work. If we couldn’t, then no one can because it’s a stick. It doesn’t do anything.”
In his head, Salvador agreed with his mother, but he could see his father winding up. Fulgencio put his hands on his hips—a sure sign a long, drawn-out argument was coming.
“Nevertheless,” Gia said, stepping forward to forestall the disagreement. “We need it.”
Lucia scowled. “Why?”
“A purely preventative measure.”
“You hope,” Salvador muttered.
Gia sighed, flicking her thick lashes at him. “Yes, I do. Where is it?”
He turned to his parents. “Is it still in the epsilon closet?” he asked. Certain objects that didn’t fit in the configuration were given their own space, tiny closets in different corners of the room.
“Yes, although there’s not much point. It’s inert.” His mother glared at Fulgencio as if this were an old argument.
Salvador walked over to the closet, ignoring his father’s scowl. The epsilon closet was technically a bunker, one of several. The door was between rings two and three, and it was opened by a
genetically keyed spell.
He drew the charm he wore out from under his shirt. It had multiple purposes, but the one he needed was the simplest. Flicking open the end, he revealed a tiny needle. He pushed his index finger onto the point until a drop of blood appeared. Kneeling, he swiped it across the floor.
The detailed rune design engraved on its surface began to glow an iridescent teal color, his mother’s signature spellwork color. The luminescence flared, spiking before it gradually faded. Once it was gone, a door slid open, revealing a steep set of stairs.
The bunker was a bit more crowded than he remembered, but that was to be expected. Delavordos loved to experiment.
He found the divining rod in the rear, hanging unceremoniously from a hook.
If this is an occult tool capable of reaching the Mother, then it should be hidden behind lasers and motion detectors. Or his mother was right, and it just was a stick. He took the stairs up two at a time, making sure to clean the blood from the floor to reseal the door.
The scene when he returned reminded Salvador of a Mexican standoff. His father fumed, face tight with a familiar expression of indignation. His mother studied her nails, affecting airy unconcern, as if whatever Gia wanted was beneath her.
The Elemental stood with her hands behind her back in a classic ‘look how harmless I am’ pose. She wasn’t moving much, just slightly pivoting on her heels, but that small motion gave her a nearly two-hundred-and-seventy-degree view of the room.
Of course. Gia was in the lion’s den. What Elemental could resist cataloging the Delavordo treasury? She had probably already committed the contents to memory before he’d even arrived with his parents.
Salvador handed the divining rod to Gia. Her expression blanked as she examined it. It had been sculpted out of a single piece of walnut, the blunted end split a few inches from the base, forking into the polished ends. Runes and occult symbols covered it the entire length, which was roughly a meter.
A tiny pucker appeared between Gia’s brows. “Interesting.”
“What is?” Lucia asked. “Don’t tell me that thing works.”
“I don’t know if it does, but it’s very…balanced.”
“In what way?” Salvador asked.
Gia bobbled the rod. “The wood was chosen with care—walnut, equally balanced between male and female, as well as Earth and Water. Carving it up should have destroyed that, but it was done so carefully the balance was maintained. It’s finely crafted.”
Hmm. Both informative and simultaneously cryptic. And with that somewhat unnecessary compliment at the end. The Earth Elemental was surprisingly politic. But then his family’s history with their kind had generally been beyond the point where diplomacy was an option.
“I don’t like this,” his father said, drawing himself up to his full height. “No one has used this artifact for nefarious purposes. I don’t think it’s fair for you to preemptively confiscate it on the off chance someone might try to steal it. If that were to become a precedent, you could empty this room—a gross violation of the Covenant. As long as they aren’t being used for harm, we get to keep our objects of power. I’d hate to have to contact the other family heads over this.”
Briefly, Salvador closed his eyes, searching for patience. “Please don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be.”
Fulgencio glared. “Of course you would say that. You have no concept of family loyalty!”
He held onto his temper with an effort of will. “I’m not going to listen to this again—”
Gia cleared her throat, pivoting to face her father. “Perhaps you’d consider loaning it to us. It’s important.”
“How can we possibly trust you with it when you can’t even secure your own precious archive?” Fulgencio peered down his nose at her. “We know about the theft at the Water colony.”
Gia didn’t even blink. “Good. Then you know the threat is significant. But I can assure you this item won’t be lost or harmed in any way.”
Lucia had recovered enough of her equilibrium to remember she was also supposed to be throwing up roadblocks. “I don’t see why we should help you. It’s not like the Elementals have done anything but make our lives more difficult.”
Salvador restrained a snort. “It was more than a theft. T’Kaieri could have been destroyed.”
His father’s lips flattened. “Forgive me for saying this, but why should we care if Elementals are being attacked? We aren’t exactly allies. In fact, our lives might be a bit easier without the constant threat of their interference in our affairs.”
“Because our adversary’s goal isn’t to kill Elementals,” Salvador huffed, the last thread of his patience unraveling. “It’s to kill the Mother. If he accomplishes his goal, he’ll kill all the magic along with Her.”
His mother and father didn’t have a snappy comeback to that.
“Or John could be trying to reverse the spectrum,” Salvador pointed out, putting his index fingers up and inverting them. “He could be trying to remove magic from Supernaturals to give it to people like himself—to humans.”
“That is also a possibility,” Gia acknowledged, inclining her head. Her measured response told him that she’d already considered that scenario. A good tactician operated two or three steps ahead of everyone else. That’s probably why she’s so pissed. She hadn’t considered a threat from within the T’Kaierian community, and she’d been caught unawares.
“Perhaps under these circumstances, you would reconsider loaning us the artifact?” she said, rephrasing her request.
“I don’t think we can let Ciro’s staff leave Delavordo custody.” His father sniffed.
Gia smiled brilliantly, holding out her free hand. “Condition accepted.”
Fulgencio’s head drew back as the Elemental took his hand, pumping it up and down. “What?”
“And I have the perfect Delavordo for that,” Gia continued as if she hadn’t been interrupted, then handed the staff to Salvador.
Belatedly, the light of realization dawned on his father’s face. “I didn’t mean my son. He’s been outcast—exiled.”
Gia shrugged. “Then you should have said so before. Come along, Salvador.”
Flabbergasted, his father gaped, his face going from red to purple.
Salvador wanted to laugh aloud. He’d never seen his parents outmaneuvered so easily. The Elemental was completely throwing them off their game.
His mother waved her perfectly manicured nails. “He’s just going hand it over to you once you are out the door.”
“I promise the rod won’t leave his custody,” Gia offered. “Even if I need to use it, it will stay with him.”
His father rounded on Salvador, about to interject.
“And won’t leave my sight.” Salvador sighed, walking to the door. He was done. “Gia and I are old traveling companions.”
“And where did you two go together?”
“Nowhere special,” Salvador said, tugging Gia toward the door. “Just hell.”
22
Salvador had no idea where they were. He’d walked out of his parent’s house on his own steam, confident he’d handled the confrontation as best he could, but his mind was teeming, too full of facts and memories. Overloaded, he blindly followed Gia, trusting she would lead them… anywhere else.
When the ground covered them again, he barely noticed, not until it spit them back out again in an unfamiliar clearing. Salvador staggered to sit on a rock under a shade tree while Gia examined the divining rod, turning it over and over in her hands.
“Are you all right?” she asked after a minute.
He glanced up. Her eyes were uncharacteristically soft on his face. “I know that must have been a shock for you, finding out your mother is with child again.”
Salvador took a steadying breath, blinking to ease the strange dryness in his eyes. “You must know about their earlier attempts, all the rites and fertility rituals they pursued, along with the many miscarriages that followed.”
He had watched his parents explore every option under the sun and a few that had only worked in the dark of night. Despite their expertise in magic, they had been so desperate for a second child that they’d visited every witch doctor and second-rate shaman rumored to help with infertility. Some of the things they had done—the lengths they had gone to—those had stayed with him.
“I used to have dreams,” he said without meaning to. But once he got started, he couldn’t stop. “I dreamt that one of their rituals succeeded, and Mother carried a second child to term. But it always turned into a nightmare. What she ended up giving birth to wouldn’t be a baby—it would be a monster.”
Gia lowered the divining rod. She sat cross-legged in front of him. “I heard some of the rumors. They weren’t just trying to conceive another heir.”
“No,” he whispered. “They wanted to improve upon nature, to ensure the child’s magical potential was off the charts. It backfired. Human beings weren’t meant to hold that much magic. Mother kept miscarrying. I thought it had permanently ruined her chances of getting pregnant. The last few attempts nearly killed her. Yet, they still kept trying even though I begged them to stop.”
He suppressed a shudder. “I can still remember every second of that last attempt. It was terrible. The house is so large, but I could her screaming in every room—I know because I ran through each trying to find somewhere I couldn’t.”
He broke off, startled, when Gia covered his hands with her own. But she didn’t say anything. She just squeezed his fingers, silently comforting him.
“If you hadn’t made me come here today, I wouldn’t know they tried again,” he said. “The fact they succeeded…”
She could still die. His mother wasn’t out of the woods yet. All Gia could assess was the babe’s health up to that moment.
“You were right that their measures to concentrate magic were the reason they failed to conceive,” she said, squeezing again. “The fact she’s carrying to term means they gave up that particular quest.”
The Elementals Collection Page 99
