If only the rest of the trip had been this easy!
Lucas
was still shaking his head in disbelief as they got in the car. "A century in an open crack in a public building, and it's still there. You live a charmed life, Aspen."
A bitter chuckle rose from her. "Not charmed, Lucas. Hardly charmed." Still, she couldn't help but smile. "Let's get out of here. We've got work to do."
The four of them returned to the car. Lucas drove with Ahmad riding in the passenger seat. Rick sat in the rear next to
Josette.
Only when they were on their way did
Josette
turn her attention to the artifacts in her possession. She knew the book, so she set it aside, and began examining the box Ahmad had provided.
It wasn't much larger than a shoebox, but it was quite heavy. The lid was a separate piece, made to fit so snugly on the base that there was barely a line to show where one ended and the other began. She ran her finger lightly over the exquisitely carved pattern of snakes, animals, lizards, and birds. Each creature was depicted in stylized detail.
"It's very beautiful." At her touch the wood warmed, and she felt power waking, stirring deep within it.
"It was my mother's dowry." Ahmad's voice and scent were empty of any emotion. "I wonder, sometimes, if that box was the only reason why my father took her as his wife. It seemed appropriate to relieve my father of it after he was killed."
There was a grim satisfaction in his voice, that she
didn't know how to answer. Apparently none of the others did either.
In silence, she turned her focus to the book. With deliberate movements she folded back the oilskin. There was power in this book, too, but it was different, a cool light breeze that tickled the hairs on her neck.
The car slowed to a stop at an elaborate metal gate set in a tall brick wall. Lucas pressed a button and the driver's side window lowered with a soft hum. With rapid strokes he tapped in a series of numbers. Slowly, ponderously, the gate rolled out of the way.
They drove up a curving brick drive that was lined with palm trees, past an elaborate fountain where naked cherubs splashed and frolicked, the water splashing musically over their stone bodies into a large reflecting pool. Fat koi swam slowly amid the lilies in that pool.
Josette
could smell them from her seat in the car, and her mouth began to water. Her eyes sought them out beneath the shimmering reflections on the water. She'd been denied them at the house in Nelson, but now
—
"No eating." Ahmad's droll voice brought her back to the present. "It's part of the purification process."
"Ah well."
Josette
gave an exaggerated sigh. "I suppose they'll still be there in the morning."
"They will unless Rick eats them all first. I can smell that he wants to." Lucas pulled the car to a stop beneath a covered walkway that led from the drive to
the house. Blooming vines draped from the ratters, and fat insects buzzed among the fragrant blossoms.
The house itself was longer than it was tall and made of gleaming white stucco, with a red tiled roof and large arched windows that could be left open to summer breezes.
Josette
could smell the chlorine of a pool, and the sound of the ocean was loud enough that she would guess there was beach access as well.
"I promise to save you at least one." Rick raised his hand in a Boy-Scout salute.
"Two at least. I'm already hungry and it's going to be a long night." She gave him an exaggeratedly plaintive look, which made him snort with laughter.
"We'll see."
The front door of the house swung open and Amber burst forward. She came to the car at a run, her hug nearly sweeping
Josette
off her feet before there was time to think or prepare.
"Mon Dieu!
Thank God you're finally here." Amber stepped back, her hands still holding on to her sister's arms. She looked
Josette
up and down. "You are well? You look tired."
"It was a difficult trip."
"So I gathered." She let go and turned to lead them into the house.
"How are they?"
Josette
asked.
"They are stable at the moment." She turned, and their gazes locked. From just the look she knew that things had been very bad indeed.
Your rooms are in back. They have French doors. We picked this place because the spell requires a covered stone courtyard." Amber ignored the men and scurried up the sidewalk ahead of her sister. It was terrible manners and very unlike her. But no one seemed to mind. They could all smell the naked fear she was trying to hide beneath her bustling manner. "There's a private bath. I took the liberty of setting it up for the cleansing ritual when I heard that your plane landed safely. It might be a little cool by now. We expected you sooner." She held open the front door.
Josette
stepped into an open living area with a vaulted ceiling that stretched upward. The floor was polished teak. The furnishings had obviously come with the house and been chosen by a decorator. Everything was modern, and covered in either white-or cream-colored fabric. The only colors were in the occasional throw pillow and the huge abstract painting that hung above the massive fireplace.
Still, the ocean view from the rear windows was spectacular. From here
Josette
could see the storm moving slowly over the water, heading this way.
"This way." Amber hustled her sister down a long hallway and through a door of dark stained teak.
It was a beautiful suite, but
Josette
wasn't given much time to look at it. Her sister shut the door to the hall behind her with a brisk slam and ordered. "Strip. We don't have much time. I didn't want to say anything in front of Lucas, but Nana is fading fast and so
is Charles." When
Josette
didn't appear to be moving quickly enough to suit her Amber hissed in irritation, grabbed the book and box from her hands and tossed them on the bed.
"I said
strip,
damn you," Amber shouted, her voice cracking with strain. She started to tug at the button on her slacks.
Josette
didn't argue. She kicked off her thongs, grabbed the bottom of her sweatshirt and pulled it over her head, letting it drop to the floor. It was the work of seconds to peel off her pants and underwear and follow the other woman into an elegant bathroom of white marble with gold veining and gold-plated fixtures.
White pillar candles had been scattered throughout the room. The tub had been filled with what smelled suspiciously like
goat's
milk. How they had managed to get an entire sunken tub's worth on short notice would be worth asking about
…
after the ceremony.
Moving with frantic haste, Amber moved over to the counter where there was a golden bowl filled with incense. She lit the powder before grabbing an ancient book from the counter and shoving it into Josette's hands. "I'll light the candles. The page with the cleansing spell is marked with a red ribbon."
Josette
took a few seconds to breathe deeply and steady her nerves before opening to the indicated page. Amber, meanwhile, was flitting from candle to candle with a press-button lighter. The room began to take on a warm
glow, the white marble reflecting the golden candlelight, the veining in the marble sparkling.
The words were in an ancient tongue.
Josette
had done her best to master it all those years ago when
Grandm
ère Helene
had given the book to her, but it was always difficult for her to force her lips to form the harsh syllables. Still each word seemed to echo in the air of the bathroom, falling into the silence like a drop of water into a pool. With each word, each phrase, the power built, until the air hummed with energy.
Josette
took the lighter from her sister's trembling hand. Setting the book aside, she padded barefoot to stand in front of the second book. It was the work of a moment to light the incense. The smoke blew through the room on a sudden breeze that was wet with the promise of rain and the smell of salt. The second book opened of its own accord, to the proper page, she presumed.
There was a rumble of thunder in the distance, and the room outside the door had grown shadowed.
Josette
was not surprised. The power she was raising was more than the air could hold. Of course it would affect the weather. How could it not?
She set the book on the bed next to the other. She turned to give her sister a comforting smile when Amber jumped at the strength of the thunder. She would have liked to say something, but didn't dare lest it disrupt her control of the spell.
Three short steps took her to the edge of the sunken
tub. Lightning crashed overhead as she walked downward, the milk lapping at her feet, then calves. But it was as she lowered her head and body below the surface that the storm broke, and the rain began hammering at the windows in blinding sheets, the wind wailing like a banshee, stripping limbs and leaves from the trees.
Josette
rose from the tub. Milk poured in rivulets down her body. She brushed her sodden hair from her eyes stepping carefully out onto a pure white bath mat. Amber had left towels within reach. Both were new, and the color of new fallen snow.
Drying herself quickly, she went to the bed. It was awkward carrying both books, the box, and a lighted candle, but she managed.
The door to the courtyard was open. Outside, the sky was near black, the roiling clouds revealed their majesty by flickering bolts of lightning. A cold wind, laden with salt, blew harsh against Josette's still-damp body. The candle flickered, but continued to burn.
They were waiting outside. In the shadowed dark she could make out the huddled shapes of the injured seers and the others who had gathered to aid them.
Josette
passed through the open door. She walked to the center of the courtyard. Setting down her burdens, she knelt and tilted the candle so that a few drops of hot wax fell onto the hard gray stone before sticking the candle into the hardening wax.
Still on her knees, she laid out the things she would
need for the ceremony: red, yellow, and blue powders, each in a leather bag dyed that color, and finally, wrapped in a cloth of black silk, a hand-carved dagger made from one solid piece of polished obsidian.
Carefully, she opened the first book again and turned to the correct page. Slowly, she began a chant in a long-dead language. Taking the yellow pouch in her hand she rose to her feet in one smooth movement. Her voice never faltered as she began walking a large circle with the candle at its focus, all the while letting the yellow powder trickle slowly from its bag. She stopped, just short of completing the last inch of the circle. At her curt nod the others moved forward.
Suddenly, she could feel Rick's presence, above all the others
…
but she didn't know why. Still, she didn't have time to analyze it. There was little enough time to finish before the moon crested.
Nana, unconscious, was carried to the circle by Lucas. He laid her gently in her place, standing behind and above her, grimly holding the candle she was too weak to grasp.
Tatiana supported the Duchess; her arm around the old woman's waist seemed to be the only thing holding her upright. But when she reached the circle she stood on her own, swaying, but determined
—her candle grasped tight in age-spotted hands.
Antoine
came next, under his own power, but with Tahira at his side. She kissed him gently before
stepping back. The look she gave
Josette
held a desperation that wrenched at her heart.
Still chanting,
Josette
walked an equilateral triangle, each of the three points touching the circle, dusting the circle with fine red powder. The dusts combined, pulling themselves magically together to become a single orange
Une
that grew in size until it circled the room.
Rick led the Ruhsal of the Hyalet Kabile to her spot. Amber half-carried Charles to the last remaining opening.
Each seer who could held a candle. For those who could not, one was placed on the stones in front of them, within the line of the circle. When, at last, everyone had taken their places
Josette
let the last of the powder trickle through her hands.
The circle closed with an audible pop. The sheets of rain continued to fall, but they hit the invisible barrier of power and bounced off. Outside the circle, the storm raged. Inside, there was only silence except for the steady hum of magic.
She padded softly to the center of the circle. The chant changed now, as she moved to the second book. Squatting down, she gathered up the blue bag and walked a square, trailing blue dust between the spots on the circle where four of the injured stood.
Power sprang up through the shape, the darkness of the storm driven back by flickering flames of every
conceivable color: the blues of the summer sky and of the deepest midnight without moon or stars; the reds and browns of mother earth, the flickering colors of golden flame; greens of every shade ever imagined, all this and more, enough to blind the eye and dazzle the mind.
Josette
closed her eyes, forcing her mind to focus. Taking a cleansing breath of incense-laden air she walked to the center and retrieved the red bag. Chanting the new words she walked the second triangle, the tip of this one breaking through the base of the first, forming a six-pointed star. Each seer stood at one point, leaving the sixth empty. This spot was reserved for the essence of the person who had blocked their gifts. The ceremony would pull on his or her power, then tighten like a noose until the spell broke and the identity of the caster was revealed.
As the second triangle closed the candles in front of each of seer flared to blazing life, their light reflecting off of solid walls of shimmering power.
She was almost done now, and it was a good thing. Because her body was starting to weaken. Even as a shadowy form began to take shape on the final point of the star,
Josette
felt her opponent fighting with every ounce of her strength.
Exhaustion made her tongue thick, and she struggled with the complicated cadence of the chant. She had to reach the center of the circle of power to move to the next stage of the spell and complete the working, but each step was harder than the last. Her body
trembled with exhaustion; it was an effort of will to simply raise her foot from the ground. Two more steps were all that stood between her and her goal, but she could not force her aching body forward. Fear lanced through her then, sharp and immediate. What if she wasn't strong enough? What if she failed? She stumbled, falling to her knees with bruising force. She closed her eyes, searching for the strength to keep moving and found Rick. He dropped his shields, silently offering her his courage, his strength, just as he'd done on the airplane. She pulled the power of his emotions inside her, used his encouragement as a crutch to stagger to her feet with the dagger in her hand. In one swift stroke she cut a deep line along her forearm, watching as the blood welled upward, looking almost black against the white of her skin in the oddly shifting light. The pain was intense, and her breath escaped through her teeth in a soft hiss.
Blood ran freely down Josette's arm, and she knew that this cut would heal human slow. The magic of the knife would see to that. Blood trailed across the stones as she moved clockwise. Beginning with Charles she walked the circle, smudging each forehead with her blood. In Nana's place she smudged both Lucas and the woman he protected.
With each step, each smudge of blood, the colors flared and the air within the circle seemed to thicken, until she moved against an unseen wind and her lungs struggled to draw breath.
Stars
danced before her vision as she forced her way back to the center. Still Rick fed her power, but he was now on his knees, his shining eyes growing weaker. She lowered herself clumsily to the ground, kneeling in front of the book. By the light of the candle fastened to the stones she read, forcing each word outward to control the hostile magic she'd raised and contained. As the last word passed her lips she felt her power fly outward. It hit the wall of magic with a sound like the ringing of a massive bell.
Emotions poured over her in a scalding wave as images flashed before her eyes, turning and shifting like colored shards of broken glass thrown upward into a white light bright enough to burn her eyes: A girl of eight or so with dark hair and eyes, fighting not to cry as the other children shoved and taunted her viciously in the schoolyard, but being oh so careful not to draw blood.
The same girl, a teenager now, screaming and struggling as the men raping her laughed. A red-tailed hawk, diving to attack her where she lay tied to the ground with silver chains as the men cheered and jeered.
A stylized pawprint the color of blood on a black background and a deck of cards that spoke of their commitment.
Image after image, spinning and flickering, in and out of focus until
Josette
felt she would go
mad. As if from a distance, she heard a woman's scream of rage that turned into the eerie shriek of a bird of prey. She slapped the caster with all her strength, tried to keep her grounded and in this place of long ago, a place before dreams.
"No!" screamed the woman. "The Sazi must not learn of this. They must not know our true intent
…
that we will wash the earth of the shapeshifter race
…
that we will
cure
them all!"