Arcane Circle

CHAPTER NINE

Stopping in my tracks, I jerked the phone out of my pocket and flipped it open so hurriedly I nearly dropped it. Samson D. Kline’s voice hailed me. “Heads up, little girl; Xerxadrea’s body has been identified.”

The phone issued a burp of static and the screen went black. I shook it, closed it, and opened it again. No light at all and no chance to ask him how the protrepticus could still work.

“My lady?” Maxine prompted.

“Nothing.” I pushed the phone back into my pocket and hurried on.

As we crossed the yard, a dozen witches swooped down from the sky. My sentinels raised their guns once more and, again, I insisted they put them away. This time my most authoritative facial expression accompanied the words, “Holster them, now.” The sentinels obeyed.

The witches hovered above my grass. That they did not dismount their brooms meant they weren’t staying. That they wore their formal black robes and charm-bedecked pointy hats meant they were on their way to or from official business. Thanks to my phone call, I could guess what.

Foremost was Vilna-Daluca. Ruya, the raven that once sat on the shoulder of the Eldrenne Xerxadrea, now sat on Vilna’s shoulder. The rest of them were high priestesses, members of the lucusi that I’d had the honor of being a member of … for about twelve hours. They had given me my own flying broom, amped up my house wards, and promptly severed their ties to me as Xerxadrea had instructed them when they learned I’d become Menessos’s Erus Veneficus. Ranking witches didn’t allow status, titles, or respect to witches who used their power in service to vampires.

Only Menessos and I knew that my becoming EV had been Xerxadrea’s idea and she had intended that severing to be temporary. She knew my role as EV had many purposes, and that Menessos’s “benefit” was the least of them. She’d assured me of this as she lay dying, having taken a bolt of fairy fire to save me.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, ladies?”

Vilna-Daluca dismounted her broom and advanced, steps soft and certain. She stopped before me, expression blank. Her long hair was loose, straight, smooth, and so white against her black robes. I was searching for a clue, scrutinizing the set of her mouth, the hazel of her—

She slapped me. Ruya screeched.

Before the bird could resettle its feathers, Maxine had her gun to Vilna’s temple. She cocked it for emphasis.

I recovered. “Max, put it away.”

“But—”

Without shifting my focus from Vilna, I said, “Either you do as your Erus Veneficus commands, or you suffer the consequences.”

I hadn’t pulled rank to threaten Maxine before. She obeyed.

Citing my rank, however, didn’t please the Elder before me. Blame hardened Vilna’s features. She whispered hotly, “We protected you!”

She was referring to the witches having aided me during the battle. “And I am grateful for that.”

“Grateful?” Her lips barely moved as she snarled the word at me.

Jeanine glided close. In a voice meant to lure jumpers away from high ledges, she said, “Our actions were still in the best interests of the council.”

Vilna-Daluca shrugged her off brusquely. Silent teardrops slid down her cheeks. She cleared her throat. “What came before is what Xerxadrea wanted. Out of respect for her, I leave it.” Her words cut like a keen-edged blade. “I leave your wards and even the elementals, as you are evidently accomplishing their house and, I assume, their care. But I am telling you now, before these witnesses: henceforth, we are enemies. Do not call on us. Do not expect our favor. What we had is gone.”

Xerxadrea was right. Vilna hadn’t asked me what happened, so it was clear she had her mind made up—without the facts. I considered defending my actions, but she needed someone to vent her grief upon more than I needed to be vindicated. Maybe in time …

I bowed my head slightly. “Blessed Be, Vilna.”

She mounted her broom and took to the air. The rest of the lucusi followed.

Knowing Beverley wouldn’t recognize the Audi if I let one of the sentinels drive me to the bus stop, I hurried inside to get the keys to the Avalon. Nana was leaning against the counter in the kitchen, arms crossed, slippered foot tapping again. With a jerk of her head she indicated the yard beyond the kitchen windows and demanded, “What was all that about?” Her tone was clipped, as if trying to decide whether to sound angry or sad.

So much for her good mood I tried to preserve.

I shook my head, searching for words. Upon coming home after the beach battle I’d promised to tell her and Beverley everything that had happened. In the telling I’d admitted we buried Aquula at the Botanical Gardens, but I had left out the fairy attack that followed. If I’d revealed Xerxadrea’s sacrifice, I would have broken down. It wasn’t that I didn’t want Nana to know, just that I wanted to wait until the sting of that loss wasn’t as sharp before I spoke of it.

Nana continued. “The news just announced the body found in the Botanical Gardens Friday night was the Eldrenne Xerxadrea. I knew they’d said the gardens had been broken into and that a body had been found, but I guess it was in my mind that they had found the body of the fairy or something.”

My chin dropped almost to my chest.

“Did their visit have something to do with that?”

I nodded.

“She struck you… .” Nana’s crossed arms fell limp at her sides. “There’s more to the story than you told me.”

I bit my lip and nodded again.

She snorted. “Makes an old woman wonder what else you’re keeping secret.” She shuffled out.

The hurt in her voice was like another slap in the face. Not only had I not told her about Xerxadrea, now I’d not bothered to mention Eris had showed up after ignoring us both for damn near twenty years. I’d just won myself an all-expenses-paid guilt trip.

There wasn’t time to fix it right now, so I grabbed the keys and left. The day had started with such promise, and then gone steadily downhill. Now it’s officially an all-out disaster.

Zhan elected to ride with me to fetch Beverley from the bus stop. My having wrongly snapped at her earlier left me feeling too guilty to refuse.

“How did you come to have those creatures?”

I had expected Zhan to make some inquiries, and was glad her curiosity was focused on the animals and not my mother. “Their forefathers were stolen from this world millennia ago by the fairies. We kind of inadvertently stole them back.” The explanation was radically over-simplified, but true.

“We?”

“Many people played a part.”

“Menessos?”

“Yes. He was a part of it.”

“He knew?” The blame in her tone wasn’t ambiguous. “He knew these creatures were real?”

Oh hell. I couldn’t be honest with her. No one was supposed to know he was the original vampire, and that he was there when the fairies entered our world. Though he was unaware the fey were taking these elementals from our world at the time, he did know of it later.

Will today’s disasters never end? “We only found out yesterday morning when the fey showed up with the elementals,” I lied.

Nana had put something into the oven while Zhan and I were gone, and now it smelled wonderful. I sat at the computer working on my column and, to counteract all the terrible things that had happened today, I was imagining this was just a normal evening for a normal family at home.

My make-believe was more convincing because Nana had gone upstairs to quilt while dinner baked, and the kiddo was doing homework at the dinette. The phone had rung a few times—Nana answered the cordless upstairs—but other than that, everything was quiet. Peaceful. Normal.

Then Nana trudged down the stairs and began fixing something to go with the scrumptious-smelling dish in the oven. She must have decided we should have a side of Raucous with Earsplitting Sauce—because she was being anything but quiet.

At the dinette, Beverley twisted around to watch Nana clanging pans. That caught my attention; it didn’t surprise me that Nana would be this angry with me, but to show her anger to Beverley was unexpected.

Two could play the not-talking-but-not-silent game.

Pushing away from my desk, I stretched, rose, and left the computer. Johnny’s stage pants were done in the wash and I decided to be helpful.

Once the dryer was jingling and thudding with the studded and chain-adorned clothing, I joined the kiddo. Even with a cantankerous old woman battering my cookware and some knight’s battle armor apparently rattling in my dryer, I kept telling myself we were just an ordinary family … until the Beholders began filing out of the field and boarding the bus parked out front.

Ordinary families don’t have the Regional Vampire Lord’s servants building barns in their backyard.

The thuglike men from Heldridge were as dirty as Menessos’s men, but they were moving much more stiffly. Some were inspecting their hands and I recalled Mountain saying they’d have blisters.

There was no evidence of animosity among them; it seemed from their behavior that some had made friends with Menessos’s men. That was encouraging. I needed something to go right today.

Mountain brought up the rear, talking with a wiry older man. Mountain pointed at the house and the two of them approached the new foundation with a tape measure out.

“What are they doing?” Beverley asked.

The phone rang. Nana moved to answer the long-corded kitchen phone.

“Making plans for Nana’s room,” I whispered.

Beverley nodded. “What’s got her so grouchy?”

“Dunno.” I wasn’t going to tell Beverley that Nana was mad at me because I’d kept secrets from her. I didn’t want to be the do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do brand of foster mother. “How’s the math?”

“Easy.” She wrapped her arms around me in a hug. “I’m so glad I’m here, where the unicorns are.”

“Me, too.” I rubbed her back. “How’s the history?”

“Same.”

Seeing how small, innocent, and eager to please she was, my heart ached. How could anyone ever treat a child wrongly? Beverley wasn’t even my child but I couldn’t imagine hitting her or locking her in a room. Sometimes I doubted myself as a parent, but unlike my own mother, I’d never resented the existence of the child in my home, or wished that she weren’t here.

I can’t fess up about Xerxadrea or my mother now. With the snit Nana’s in, that additional information might turn the kitchen into a war zone. Maybe tomorrow.

Behind me, Nana hung up the phone with more force than necessary, and shuffled back to the stove, grumbling. Beverley peered up at me questioningly.

“Must’ve been a sales call,” I whispered.

The buses were leaving. I moved into the bench seat across from Beverley, where I could evaluate Nana.

That was when the sun sank away; I knew it because I felt Menessos awaken screaming in torment, felt him suck down his first breath of this night, felt him whisper my name as he regained control of himself. That sensation of filling up, of being whole, returned. A few deep breaths later, my body felt equalized.

Mountain left his muddy boots at the front door and entered the kitchen in sock feet. He washed up at the sink—he was so tall and thick that he didn’t fit in the little bathroom under the stairs. “Where’s Johnny?” he asked.

“I don’t think he’s going to join us,” I said. “He’s still at the memorial for those lost on the beach.”

“Mountain, you’re in charge of security for now,” Maxine said, coming in from the living room where she’d supervised the Beholders’ departure via the window.

“The head count on the bus was the same for the number that arrived,” he said.

“Noted. We’re going to check the perimeter and then get supplies.”

Nana set the casserole dish she’d just taken from the oven onto the stovetop. “Will you eat?”

That’s my Nana. If she didn’t like someone she could give them the cold shoulder all day, but when dinner was served she’d still expect them to eat. She’d be mightily offended if they snubbed her dinner in retaliation.

“No, thank you. We’re going to make our rounds, and get some supplies. We’ll eat while we’re out. See you in two hours.”

Nana wordlessly transferred the meal onto the plates, but clanking dishes and spoons voiced her irritation for her.

I meant no insult to the sentinels, but some time away from them suited me just fine. Having lived alone for a few years before Nana moved in, sharing meals had developed into a special activity.

Mountain sat in the chair adjacent to Beverley’s. I was in the back corner on the bench. Nana served everyone a plate of salad, crusty bread, and a chunk of her casserole, then slid in beside me. Beverley appraised the food on her plate, dissecting it with her fork to inspect the layers. “It smells good, but I don’t know what it is.”

“My mother called it mousakas kolokythakia. It’s moussaka with zucchini.”

“I like zucchini,” Beverley said. “My mom used to slice it and fry it.”

Nana pointed at her. “She gave you more than a beautiful face and a sweet disposition then, young lady. She gave you variety in taste. Good for her, and good for you.” Nana dug into her food.

I enjoyed taking a meal with a small cozy group, and with these three people in particular, it felt like a satisfyingly domestic exercise. A chance to sit calmly together and have some peaceful conversation … it was a common thing that my hectic life promised to allow less and less. For me, struggling through the balance-driven destiny of the Lustrata was paid back like this, in these quiet moments breaking bread with family. It was right and warm—Nana’s irritation notwithstanding.

Or maybe Nana’s fabulous bechamel sauce with cheese was making me sentimental.

“Are the barns done?” I asked Mountain.

“Almost. The animals are in them, but the roofs and the insides need some final touches.”

“So, Mountain,” Nana began conversationally, but the edge of annoyance in her tone couldn’t stay hidden, “what kind of mess-making can we expect tomorrow?”

He wiped his mouth on a napkin. “Here at the house, they’re going to cut through the new house-side foundation panel and into the cellar, to route the electric, plumbing, and heating for your addition. When that’s done they’ll put up the floor joists and subflooring, erect the prefab walls. This is where the Beholders really shine. Once the foundations are set to build on, we’re fast.” He paused. “Out in the field, the water truck is coming tomorrow to fill the dragon’s pool. The well pump will be put in, the electric wired.”

“Did the electric company get the poles in?”

He nodded. “The foundation for my mobile home is in, too. It’ll be delivered and set up. Since the semis have already torn up the yard, I requested that a gravel driveway be put in, running to the barns, but I’m not sure if they’ll do that tomorrow or the next day. And I asked for a truck for myself.”

“You’re so lucky,” Beverley said.

“Because I might get a truck?”

“Because you get to live out there with the unicorns.”

“I’ll technically be closer to the dragons.” He covered his mouth like he was sharing a secret with her. “And let me tell you, they snore like buzz saws.”

She giggled.

“Did Heldridge’s men give you any cause for concern?” I asked.

“They didn’t have any construction sense.” He readied another bite of moussaka. “And they weren’t accustomed to physical labor, either.”

“Didn’t slow you down any,” I put in.

The phone rang again. Nana slammed her fork down and rose to answer it. The rest of us were politely quiet. She glanced fleetingly in my direction before stepping into the living room to talk privately. I tried to listen in, but even with my hearing being amped up by my connection to the vampire, Mountain and Beverley’s discussion of unicorns combined with the clattering dryer kept me from hearing. When Nana reappeared, she was more disgruntled than before.

And I was more curious than ever.

Which is probably the point. She wants me curious so she can deny me some knowledge as payback. So I resolved not to be curious. Outwardly, anyway.