Arcane Circle

EPILOGUE

Monday morning, we returned to the hospital. Since it was a new moon, I’d packed up a few of Eris’s ritual things—a goddess statue and a few stones—and took them to her so she could commune with her deities that night. She wouldn’t call spell energies—you never know who’s in the hospital—but she could meditate. I figured it was always therapeutic for me.

My mother was groggy and kind of spacey from her medication, but all in all she wasn’t surprised her arm was gone. The doctors said they’d never seen anyone simply accept such a life-altering trauma so easily. They cautioned the rest of us repeatedly to be wary of a rebound, and informed us of the signs to watch for concerning depression, post-traumatic stress syndrome, and other possibilities.

After talking privately with her, however, I was certain she’d be fine. Not that she was happy about losing a limb, but she said she’d “rather give her right arm than carry that guilt forever.” She’d gotten what she wanted. As the justice-minded Lustrata, I could accept it. The only thing she cried over was not being able to drive her Corvette because it was a stick shift.

She told Lance the car was his now. That didn’t make him nearly as happy as it would have under any other circumstance. Lance was taking this much worse than she was, though he put on a brave face for her. Nana and I had a private conference call with Celia and decided to stay for a week, to help Lance and Eris deal with this and make adjustments. That ten grand I’d packed wasn’t used as bribe money, but it was useful.

The famous tattoo artist Arcanum had exceled—but on borrowed talent. Now I knew what she had taken from Johnny, and what she had given back. While the wæres have big plans for Johnny, he’s going to be taking his guitar painting skills to another level. That, I’m sure of. And, since Nana, Zhan, and I were planning on staying here for a week, I was also certain that he wouldn’t complain when we offered to let him take the Audi home.