by Shannon Page
“Augustus Schriff and Lorenna Rosemary. Did you know them?”
“Yes, of course I did,” Gregorio said, giving Logan a gentle smile as he set his napkin down. “Though I fear I cannot help Logandina any more than I already have,” he went on, to Jeremy. “All the San Francisco Elders, as well as the major covens, devoted a great deal of attention to this matter when Augustus and Lorenna disappeared. Unfortunately, the trail went completely cold after they left Zchellenin. I cannot imagine the passage of so many years has made information any easier to obtain.”
“All the same, I thought I might look into it when I travel back to the Old Country next month,” Jeremy said. “It would be no trouble for me to ask around.”
“Your itinerary is already quite full,” Gregorio said. “I am not certain you will have room to add another large endeavor…particularly one which has already been so thoroughly explored by so many others before you.”
Jeremy and Logan exchanged a brief, warm glance before he looked back to his father. “All the same, I’d love to see what I can find out—when I can make the time, of course. Assuming you have no objections?”
“Of course not. I would be greatly interested to learn anything you may discover on the matter. The incident still disturbs me.” Gregorio turned again to Logan, his eyes kind. “As I know it does you quite a bit more, my dear.”
Logan blushed and glanced down at her plate as her shyness took over momentarily. Then she cleared her throat. “It’s…baffling, honestly. I feel as though we ought to be able to know everything. To be able to find them.”
“Not if those aligned against us are equally powerful.”
“Oh?” I asked.
Jeremy turned to me. “There are…factions… In the Old Country, at least. It’s complicated.” He glanced across the table at his father, as if asking permission to bring such unpleasant topics to the dinner table.
Leonora leaned forward and interjected, “We provide a thorough education regarding the Old Country here, young man. Its history and its politics. I should have thought Calendula would recall discussion of these matters from her own training.”
I felt my face redden with chagrin—I might have known she’d be listening to our conversation from her end of the table. Of course I’d studied the Iron Rose and the troubles, though it had been decades since my school days. But beyond what Jeremy had mentioned at Logan’s birthday gathering, I knew very few recent details; there was not a lot of correspondence between the Old Country and here. “Right,” I managed.
Logan patted my knee under the table as Jeremy answered smoothly. “You must forgive me, Leonora Scanza. My understanding of the world outside the Old Country is grievously incomplete. I meant no insult to San Francisco’s educational system or to your esteemed coven in particular.”
“Hm,” she allowed.
“I would be pleased to learn more, in fact,” he went on. “I have a great interest in everything about the wider world—it is why I have come here. Education is the foundation of so much.” He gave her a humble smile, his bright eyes warm and glowing. “Though of course, a coven mother of your stature would surely have little time to school a newcomer like me.”
I stifled a smile at this. Old Country manners were certainly, well, thicker than ours here.
Leonora did not appear to share my opinion. She smiled more naturally. “I would be pleased to assist in the continuance of your education. Send me a note next week, and we shall find a convenient time.”
At the corner of my awareness, I thought I heard my cell phone ringing. Up on the second floor, in my bedroom… I sent my senses out, seeking the only one who would be calling me.
Oh no.
At my right hand, Gregorio seemed to sense my alarm, and mistook its cause. “Allow me,” he said, refilling my glass of Margaux.
“Thank you…” I murmured, helpless as the doorbell rang.
Conversation stopped as the entire table looked at me.
“I…excuse me,” I said, pushing my chair back.
I almost ran into Petrana in the hallway, coming to take the latest guest’s coat, as instructed. “No! Back to the kitchen!” I hissed at her.
“Yes, Mistress Callie.”
Reaching the front hall, I cracked the door, standing to block the narrow opening. “Raymond,” I said. “It’s not a good—”
“I know,” he said. He was disheveled, breathing a bit heavily. I could see beads of sweat on his forehead. He clutched his phone. “It’s never a good time. You said you wanted to see me, and then broke our date. I haven’t seen you in a week. You don’t answer your phone. You don’t talk to me, you don’t have time for me…”
“I will—I promise,” I said. “Tomorrow. Just—busy—can we do this tomorrow?”
“If you’re breaking up with me, just do it now!” He took a step forward. I could smell beer on his breath. A lot of beer. “Who you got in there?” He blinked, then seemed to actually see me. “Fancy dress.”
“I’m having some…family…over for dinner. Raymond, you have to go.”
“I’m not good enough to meet your family?” He took another step forward. Now his foot was on the threshold. Being human, of course, he did not even know about ritual permission to enter. He could just bluster in here…
I took a step back, startled at the thought; he followed me right in. “Been dating a year, and I’ve never even heard about any family of yours!” he said, his voice rising.
“Raymond, get out of here!” Panicked, I glanced back—there were footsteps in the hallway behind me—oh no, there was my mother, with Jeremy right behind her.
“Darling?” my mother asked, one sculpted eyebrow raised, the skirt of her Dior gown falling perfectly around her slender ankles.
“Um, this is, um, Raymond,” I stammered, still somehow trying to salvage the situation. “Raymond, this is my mother, Belladonna Isis, and…Jeremiah Andromedus.”
Raymond glared at me, then at the two of them. His mouth hung open. Maybe it was the names, or the beer; maybe it was just because my mother didn’t look a day older than I did.
“Calendula?” Jeremy asked, his accent smooth and cultured. “Do you need any assistance?”
“Assistance!” Raymond snarled as he reanimated and stepped toward Jeremy.
My hands moved almost of their own volition as I cast a spell of fog on Raymond’s mind. With a small sigh, he crumpled to the floor, his eyes open but blank.
“Oh Blessed Mother,” I moaned. “I’m so—”
“Is this…the human?” Mom asked, unnecessarily.
“Yes.” I turned to Jeremy. “I’m so sorry! I…”
Jeremy glanced down at Raymond. I followed his gaze; my boyfriend was a sorry sight indeed. Tattered jeans, rough leather jacket, tangled hair. He needed a shave. And a bath. Jeremy cleared his throat and said, “I take it this is not merely a matter of putting him out on the street and erasing his mind?”
“No! I, er, no.” If I’d thought I was blushing earlier, that was nothing to what was happening now. “I’ve been…he’s…I’m seeing him.”
“Seeing?”
I heard the scrape of chairs on the dining room’s hardwood floor. Logan and Gregorio had followed us to the front hall, the old warlock laying a protective hand on her arm. My father, Dr. Fallon, and Leonora now crowded in behind them.
“Oh dear,” my father said wearily.
“Is he injured?” Dr. Fallon asked, leaning down to examine Raymond.
“Er—no, just fogged,” I said.
Leonora loomed behind him now. “Calendula? What is the meaning of this?”
“Mother Leonora, I can explain.”
“It’s the human,” my birth mother told her. “The one she has been—”
“That is not the part I am confused about,” Leonora interrupted. “I did not expect she would invite him to our gathering.”
“I didn’t!” I squeaked. “He just…turned up.”
“I see,” Leonora said, gazing
at Raymond in obvious disdain.
“We need to get him onto the couch!” I said, desperate for—I didn’t even know what. Distraction. For this not to be happening.
But it was.
Gregorio pointed at Raymond, sending the power necessary to move my human boyfriend into the next room and onto the couch in one smooth motion. He did it without even looking winded. “There you are, Calendula,” he said, with an indulgent smile.
I rushed into the front parlor, resisting the urge to wring my hands. The rest of the guests followed me. Elnor was already there, sniffing at Raymond suspiciously. She rubbed against my calves, sending feline comfort to her mistress.
It wasn’t nearly enough.
Raymond was technically awake, though perceiving—and, hopefully, remembering—nothing. His breathing had softened; his glazed-over eyes pointed in the general direction of the ceiling.
“Now perhaps you see why such relationships are unwise,” Leonora said, adjusting the skirts of her magnificent costume. “Humans do not belong in our world, nor we in theirs; eventually, one comes to realize this.”
“Callie, we’ve talked about this,” my birth mother put in, gently.
Gregorio gave a benevolent chuckle. “Nevertheless, every new generation feels the need to test boundaries, to learn for themselves. Did you never dally in such experiments, Leonora Scanza?”
She sniffed. “Surely I did not go so far as to give humans free access to any dwelling of mine.”
“I haven’t given him free access,” I said, turning to face her, my voice rising. “He doesn’t even have a key.”
“He not only knows where it is, he appears to be entirely comfortable dropping by,” Leonora said, sternly. “I agreed to your move here so that you might conduct your research more easily.”
“That’s not fair!” I almost shouted. “I barely see him—that’s what he’s mad about.”
My father cleared his throat and gave my mother a knowing glance. She patted my arm.
I struggled to fight down a surge of anger. How dare they lecture me like I was a child? “Leonora, you don’t own me—none of you do. This is my home, which I do own. I fulfill all my responsibilities to the coven, to witchkind, and to the world at large. Nobody, and I mean nobody, has the right to tell me who I should or shouldn’t associate with—here or anywhere else.”
My guests gazed back at me, stunned at my outburst. Leonora looked livid, my father embarrassed; my mother simply looked sad. At the back of the group, I could see Dr. Fallon nodding, very subtly.
So much for a lovely evening. I might as well finish. “Yes, I am dating this man. This human. And he’s clearly drunk, and angry at me because I’ve had very little time for him lately—not that that is anyone’s business but his and mine either.” I took another breath. “I’m sorry this happened during our dinner party, and I’m particularly sorry that Logan’s delicious meal is now sitting cold on the table.”
“Oh, I…” Logan murmured. “Gosh, don’t worry about that.” She put her hand on the back of a chair, leaning into it, looking a little ill. Oh, how she hated conflict.
“Should we…be leaving him in the fog this long?” Dr. Fallon asked, tentatively. “It can damage his mind.”
“No—of course not,” I said. Did even he think I was an idiot? It had been what, two minutes?
“Just turn him out,” Leonora said. “He will learn not to impose like this if you are firm with him. As you should have been from the start.”
Oh, Raymond, why did you have to do this! “I am not going to turn him out,” I said to her, gritting my teeth. “He’s not a dog.”
Dr. Fallon bent down, laying Raymond’s limp arm across his chest. “Humans are fascinating—their internal processes so much like ours, yet so fundamentally different. He is quite intoxicated, isn’t he.”
“He just needs to sleep it off,” I said. I put my hand on Raymond’s forehead, then opened my energetic awareness to the rhythm of his heartbeat, breathing, and jumbled, frozen thoughts. I eased the fog away while inserting sleep messages in its place, sending him down deep before letting go of any magical influence on him.
His eyes closed. A soft snore escaped his nose.
I removed my hand and stood back up. Dr. Fallon touched Raymond’s forehead, then chest, and nodded. “Yes, that will be all right, I think.”
Logan had her hand on her stomach; she looked distinctly uncomfortable. Her familiar, Willson, was hovering close to her. Elnor went and sniffed at him, then looked at me.
“Dear, are you all right?” my mother asked Logan. “You look pale.”
“I…I’m feeling a little overwhelmed,” she said. “I think I need to sit down for a few minutes.” She sank into the chair she was holding onto and closed her eyes. What was wrong? This was more than an aversion to conflict. I went to put a hand on her forehead, opening my senses once again. Her essence was oddly low, and I sensed a turbulence in her stomach. Willson sat near her feet, Elnor and Grieka right by him.
“There has been a great deal of unfortunate excitement,” Leonora said, pointedly.
“Indeed,” Gregorio put in, looking sober. “Dr. Fallon, perhaps you could take a look at Logandina as well?”
“Oh! Yes.” He jumped up from Raymond and went to Logan’s chair. “Have you been ill recently?” he asked her.
“No,” Logan murmured.
“Too much excitement?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I just need a minute. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She gave us all a wan smile, then closed her eyes again. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t apologize!” I stood back as Dr. Fallon continued to examine her. “Do you want anything? Tea?”
“Nothing. Just rest. Thank you.”
Dr. Fallon glanced up at me, then at Gregorio, with a worried frown.
“Let me have a look,” the elder warlock said. He took Logan’s hand in his, reading her pulse and all the energetic information behind it. After a minute, he said, “No, there is no recent illness here. I detect something sudden. And…” He paused, looking perplexed. “It seems externally sourced.”
“Externally sourced?” I asked.
“An infectious agent, a grave injury—something of that sort.” Gregorio frowned.
“Well, she obviously hasn’t been injured,” I said. “Food poisoning maybe?”
“I am trying to determine the cause.” Gregorio’s tone was short; his eyes were focused somewhere else even as he held onto her hand. I waited, tense. Beside me, I could feel both my mother and Leonora opening channels as well, though they were looking outward.
“I cannot detect any origin—it seems to simply appear,” Gregorio said, a minute later. “This is outside my area of expertise. A healer should be called at once.” He let go of her hand and stood up, his focus shifting away again for a moment. “Manka is available. I’ve sent a message.”
On the couch, Raymond let out another snore. Willson leapt up onto Logan’s chair, settling next to her as she slumped down further. Was she falling asleep, or passing out? Her hand draped to the floor; her pretty gown was being crushed underneath her. Her hair lay limp, inert, bangs flat against her damp forehead.
“Logan!” I said, more alarmed by the moment. I grabbed her hand again. Her skin was clammy. Her breathing was almost undetectable.
“I find nothing of danger in the immediate area,” Leonora put in, closing her channel. “Fortunate that she happened to be in company when it happened, at least.” Beside her, my mother nodded, frowning.
I bristled at the implication. Yes, Leonora, I thought, please tell us more about the perils of living alone.
Willson began yowling, jumping down to pace the floor around his mistress’s feet. His distress was infectious; the other familiars starting meowing as well.
“Dr. Andromedus,” Dr. Fallon said, his voice tense. “She seems to be actively leaching essence—it’s lower every minute. What is this?”
Gregorio shook his head. “I cannot say. Her
system is under assault, seemingly from nowhere.”
“Assault? Why?” I felt like one of the cats, pacing around and yowling ineffectually. “Where is her essence going?”
“That is what I am attempting to find out,” Dr. Andromedus said, leaning in closer. “I can slow the drain, but until we discover what is causing this…” He waved his hands and muttered a string of words, laying a complicated spell over her. She gave a soft sigh, and seemed to breathe more easily. “I have seen something like this once before, but not for many decades,” the warlock added, almost under his breath. “I thought…”
My panicked mind tried to make sense of this. Then I remembered. “Your…consort?” Jeremy’s mother.
For a moment, Gregorio’s face became an open book, showing unimaginable pain. “It could be,” he said in a near-whisper. Then he almost visibly pulled himself together and addressed the room. “Logandina is safe for the moment. When Manka gets here, she should be able to provide more insight. Meanwhile, let us move her to a more appropriate venue than this chair.” He glanced, with some distaste, at Raymond, still snoring on the sofa.
I felt helpless, desperate. “Um…beds, upstairs…”
“No need.” Gregorio flicked his fingers, pulling a daybed through the æther and setting it in the second parlor.
“You two, lift her—gently,” Leonora commanded, pointing to Jeremy and Dr. Fallon. They picked up the unconscious Logan manually and laid her on the daybed. I pulled a small chair over and sat in it, taking Logan’s hand.
“Should I give her some of my essence?” I asked.
“Perhaps,” Gregorio said. “Let us wait and see what Manka prescribes, though. There is no immediate danger now.”
The rest of the party milled around in the second parlor, waiting for the healer. She would come on the ley line, of course, but it would still take a few minutes.
My birth mother said, “Would anyone like some tea?”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
Mom went off to the kitchen, returning a minute later with cups for everyone. I took one sip of mine and set it down. At least Willson had stopped yowling. Now he lay curled at Logan’s feet, purring insistently. I reached for Logan’s forehead again, brushing aside lank bangs. Was her essence lower than a minute ago? I couldn’t tell. I took my hand away. Tried to sip my tea.
