Neophyte / Adept (18 page)

When I crawled inside, there were bits of straw, like
chickens had lived in it. The front end was badly damaged but the motor had
been fixed. It was the color of a pale blue sky, covered in rust. Lia started
the ignition and the engine rattled to life. “Gaven brought it,” she said.

“How is Gaven?” I asked, but she just shrugged. Lia more
than anyone needed to get away from here. It was clear that she longed for the
city––for the piazzas and all the places she knew. In a sense, I
knew where she was coming from. But she had it worse.

My homesickness had abated. I was merely a potential who
might
possibly
be recruited by a
prestigious Wiccan Household. Lia was in the Hopper with the rest of us, but if
no one picked her, if she
wasn’t
selected, she didn’t have the past that she could fall back on, of going and
being a werewolf again. And even though she had Gaven, neither did he. Losing
your animal was like dying, I thought.

The bashed-in ape van wobbled and picked up speed. The
leaves on the trees were in their last gasp of life. And the moon through the
clouds was crescent. It was a blue moon. Lia’s eyes were bright and sad. I
could see them through the rearview mirror, which dangled like it had done
something wrong.

We went that night to a piazza, whose stalls were open, just
to walk around. The other Initiates, none of whom were from Italy, took the
opportunity to walk around and admire the jets of water bubbling up from the
fountains, and to buy interesting knickknacks.

Lia and I bought some roast chestnuts from a vendor, popping
them into our mouths, while we spoke about, oh, lots of things.

“I want to show you something,” she said. We took our
purchases to one of the fountains. I think it had a satyr in it. Anyway....

The light from the moon and stars reflecting in the
water––

––revealed her Wiccan Mark.

It was faint. But it was there. She hid it with her hand so
that only I could see. It had a fingerprint. A sort of unique swirl at the tip
of her index finger. Silvery-blue like streaked lightning. But so finely
wrought that it was almost invisible. Her delta––that was the point
of her elbow––looked like an intricate knot work of silvery veins that
glowed when she hid it in her other hand––it came out in the dark.
“Lia... it’s... beautiful...” I said.

She glowed.

But then her eyes got sad. “I’m going to start having to
wear
manica langas
,” she said.
“That’s what we call it when someone is sly. It is said they have
long sleeves
. I hate that we have to
hide. Wiccans, I mean. Gambalunga means long legs, by the way. So at least
you’ll be able to run really fast, if you have to get away.”

We joined the rest of the Wiccan Neophytes I kept thinking
of as Initiates because the Houses had still not made their selections yet.

It was like joining a fraternity. A sorority, because we
were all witches. Why was that, by the way? Why
were
the Initiates all female?

“I have been reading my book a lot,” said Lia, who was
referring to her codex, “and it’s... ––they’re looking for
somebody,” she said. “This... super witch...”

“Is that what this is all about? Which House will get her?”
I asked.

Lia shrugged.

“The others think that that House will take over,” she said.
“They’re angling for supremacy, the Houses. Even the vampires and werewolves
are interested in finding her. Maria––you know she will be there at
the Wiccaning, right? She’s brought a psychic wereleopard, remember?
It’s where they read our minds.
She’s as
interested in finding her as the rest of them are. Maybe even more so. It would
be the missing piece. The one thing Maria needs to take over––to
start another war. Maybe I’m being paranoid.”

She popped a chestnut in her mouth. Lia motioned for the
other Neophytes, who returned, carrying their purchases.

We sat that night around the fountain, talking.

It would come and go, the rain.

I learned the rest of the Initiates’ names.

There were ten of them.

Nora Blackknight, Larissa Nightbloom––Badgley
Ravenscroft, Azura Darksky––Lizette, Pilar, Padget, Shaharizan,
Astra, and one last one, the strangest of them all––Gemma
Moonflower.

It was a matter of Houses, of who would go where, and what
they would do. Perhaps Lia understood that. She was, after all, the oldest of
our lot, a Mistress in her own right. We treated her like Big Sis.

* * *

I spent the rest of the night fretting––pursued
by Maria––she brushed the tops of the trees, in her witch’s
feet––following me over countryside––wondering if it
were really true––if they
were
really waiting for her to be this super witch––or, well, one of
us––whoever she was.

The Wolves were waiting for her and the vampires had their
own claims staked–– Not to mention the Wiccans...

It got me thinking where
my
choice was; if I even had one?

A cold draught fluttered the hairs on my forehead and I went
back to sleep. In the morning I had no sense of the way things had
gone––but it bubbled up like something out of a fountain, the idea
of the One, during our training session with Lux.

He had brought someone with him. Asher––Maria’s
psychic wereleopard.

I was puzzled because both Ballard and Gaven had vouched for
Asher––as had all of the covens.

Yet why was everyone so wary of him? In particular, the
Wiccans.

He was wearing his indigo-colored vest and other accoutrements,
but it was Asher’s eyes, like fire opals, staring out at you, like slitted
cat’s pupils.

Lux cleared his throat, enjoying our reaction. Asher was so
impressive he merited staring at––
a lot
. Some girls were drooling.

Lia had to shake her head. She was in her robes, her Wiccan
robes, which hid her Wiccan Mark. Neither one of us could discern a virtue yet.
But then babies all start out the same too. My money was on Awesomeness,
whatever she
selected
(“You’ll be
able to,” I said. “It’s your
choice
.”)

“This is Asher, who is–– do you mind if I say?”
said Lux.

“Not at all.” Asher looked like he was rather enjoying
himself. He winked at me and I returned the greeting.

“Asher is a Half Lighter. Does anyone know what that means?”
said Lux.

Half the hands in the room went up. “Vittoria?”

“Half-Magic, half-
Something
else
,” she said.

Asher smiled and his fangs were exposed.

There was a gasp.

“In my case,” he said, “I am the offspring of an eclectic
wizard and his wereleopard bride.”

“Do you shift?” said someone.

Asher’s smile broadened. “I do something else,” he said.

“But you’re
not
a
wizard...”

Vittoria again. I wished she would just leave. Asher took it
in his stride. I suddenly saw my opportunity––and it came to me,
what I had to ask.

“Please Mr. Asher, sir, is it possible for someone
with
Craft to
also
transform into a crocodile or a weregiraffe or something like
that?”

I could see Vittoria thinking about her balloon animals
again. Which was good. I didn’t want her knowing how seriously I took the answer.

Asher seemed to sense there was more behind my question,
however, and I noticed as he paused, that Lia’s ears perked up.

“Some Wiccans actually covet shapeshifters as mates to
create Witch Shifters––there has not been one in over a century,”
he said.

I looked at Lux, who was perfectly content with Asher’s
description, so it must’ve been true.

“But we need to get back to Half Lighters,” said Asher.

The class made an
aw
sound.

“I have to instruct you for tomorrow’s
Wiccaning
,” he said.

Suddenly we were all on the tips of our toes. He had our
full attention.

“Because one of you may be this One, the Wiccan Prime Mover.
She can access large amounts of magic they’ve only dreamed of before.” His
un-Marked arm seemed to take in all the world. “That is why everyone is so
interested in finding her,” he said.

“But I thought a Wiccaning was for infants?” said
Shaharizan, who clearly knew more of the magical world than I did.

At the mentioning of the One, the other Initiates hadn’t
even flinched––which meant that I was far, far behind. I was going
to have to start practicing. If I was going to form my Mark, I had to.

“Childlike is what you are, when it comes to Magic,” said
Asher. “You have all had to wait, have you not? So we are going to have a
Wiccaning. To do this we use Guides. Fledged Wiccan Elders who help you
look inside
––to see who you
truly are.”

“You mean mind reading?” said one.

He nodded.

“In a sense,” he said.

A mutinous outbreak of mumbles, followed by a cold sweat.
My
cold sweat. I didn’t want someone
messing around in my head. No way.

“What happens if you don’t let them in?” I asked. “I don’t
want someone reading my mind.” Grunts of agreement.

“That is where
I
come in,” said Asher.

“Pardon?”

“I am a psychic wereleopard, Halsey. I can
break
in.” He smiled, and his
canines––which really should have been called
felines––erupted mischievously.

“I don’t want you looking around... There are
things
, in there––
private
things...” I said.

The other Initiates and I were in a panic. It was uproar.
Asher breaking in. Asher––
seeing
.If
he had thought we would appreciate that, he was very much mistaken.

“Believe me, you have nothing to worry about,” he said, but
no matter what he said to alleviate our worries, I couldn’t stop the massive
panic attack welling within my breast.

Vittoria flexed her fingertips. “If that’s what it takes to
be in Ravenseal...” she said.

So it was true, then?

“Then I’ll do it,” she said.

The rest of the Initiates nodded.

“It looks like we
have
to
,” they said.

“It’s all right.” Lia put her hand on my shoulder. “I’m sure
if it was really bad, they wouldn’t make us do it.”

Lux helped Asher get the class back in order.

* * *

Lux warned us to empty our minds. “They’ll try and read
you,” he said. I could only imagine he meant the Wiccan Elders, who sounded
like a bunch of old dudes. “Remember,” he said. “This is a reading. They’re
looking for certain affinities, the
shape
of your mind, its complexity. They just want to peek inside and get a
feel
for you.”

Gross.
I suddenly
found myself getting angry. “You mean so they can better know where to put us,”
I said. “Into which House.”

“It’s true. The findings, some of them, will be broadcast,”
said Lux. “Do not be surprised if you get certain invitations afterwards. A
part of the Gathering, is so that recruitments can take place in a controlled,
safe
, environment. Do you remember what
I said about Wiccans not liking other Wiccans knowing about the shape of their
Marks?”

We all nodded.

“Sounds paranoid to me,” said one.

“The mind is the same way. It’s
inviolate
,” said Lux. “A crucial Wiccan ardane is that you do not
mess around in someone else’s head. That was agreed upon at the Covenant of
1887.”

Lux had briefed us on the event, the ardanes and the hiving
he talked to me about earlier.

“Then why are they making
us
do it?” asked Shaharizan.

“Because you have to. Just once. You’ll see,” said Lux.

“I do not use my gifts,” said Asher, continuing, “except
under special circumstances, when the powers that be have come together and it
is agreed upon that I should look.”

“Among the covenants that we signed,” said Lux, “was that
Half Lighters were no longer to be used as weapons––to scry, as
it’s called, or see into the future. It’s too much power. But they, like all
fledged, can look into our minds. Something Wiccans do not do to one another,
as a courtesy, as much as anything else. Clear your minds, please.”

But my mind wouldn’t clear.

No matter what I did.

I had scried. I had thrown my mind over great distances. I
had heard into others––or, well, listened to them. It was like I
was
there
, but my body wasn’t. But
that wasn’t possible, was it? You had to be a psychic wereleopard or something,
didn’t you?

Lux and Asher paced among the Neophytes. “You’re not clearing
your mind, Halsey,” said Asher.

I looked at all of the other Neophytes, all of whom looked
serenely out of it, or like they were constipated, so focused were they on
trying to forget, to empty their brains, but that kind of oblivion just wasn’t
possible for me. I could feel my forehead crumpling. I had to get to the bottom
of this.

“You said that your dad was a wizard? But what
kind
of wizard? An éclair wizard?” I
said to Asher.

“Eclectic.”

“But what is an Electric wizard?”

“Eclectic.
It
means he wasn’t Initiated by any of the Houses,” said Asher. “Wiccans have a
thing. That they are all descended, one from the next, through lineaged magical
bloodlines––for want of a better word––back to the
original House itself.
Before
it
split. So in a sense, all Wiccans are related to each other. You are all in one
House. One Line.”

“But some Houses are better than others,” I said.

He laughed.

“Do you know why I came here, Halsey Rookmaaker?” he said to
me.

I looked around. It was just the two of us talking.

“To find the Wiccan Prime Mover,” I said.

“No.”

“Then why?”

“Know your history; it is important,” said Asher. “The
ailuranthropes––those who shift into cats––have been
discriminated against forever and always. They weren’t even
invited
to the Covenant of 1887, much
less this Gathering. Do you see any of them here, besides me?”