Hallowed Circle

Chapter 16

Lying on my cot, wrestling with the drowsiness that came after eating, I was racking my brain for a way to shield against the Elders that wouldn't rouse their suspicion. I had to make it through the round. If I had a later interview, I could sleep and perhaps, with a fresher mind, come up with a plan. But that hadn't been my multi-legged lot.

After the interview, I'd have about two hours to sleep. If I wasn't cut after this round, that, I thought optimistically, should get me through the night.

A scream resounded through the stone walls.

Instantly on my feet, I was the only one up and moving forward. Yanking open the door, my feet had me in the hall before I knew which direction to go. The sound of another door pulled me around to face the restroom end of the hall.

Mandy backed from the alcove, trembling. One hand covered her mouth, while the other was held before her like a loathsome thing. Footsteps resounded behind me; Lydia was hurrying toward us.

"Mandy." I eased toward her. "What's wrong?"

The holding room door shut behind me, then shoved open again.

"Mandy," I repeated.

Her frizzy blond head turned to me, her distress evident. She blinked. "Persephone," she whispered. She held that outstretched hand toward me. Blood was smeared on her fingertips. "She's dead—she's—she's dead."

Lydia stopped beside me; I felt the other finalists crowding behind us.

"Who's dead?" Lydia asked. "Where?"

Mandy shivered. "The… the one from Georgia. S-Suzanne." She began to sob and pointed to the shadowy alcove near the restroom. I could see nothing from where I stood.

I heard the regular tapping of staffs behind us and turned toward the sound; Morgellen and Elspeth were rounding the turn. "Finalists! Return to the holding room," Morgellen called. I did not obey quickly. Lydia went to them and they whispered together as they moved forward. "Lydia, take Mandy to the office where she can clean her hands. Call the police immediately. Elspeth and I will wait here to secure the area."

The next hour passed in what seemed like only moments.

The police arrived right away and quickly marked off the area with yellow plastic tape. We were all herded into the holding room while they "secured the scene." They photographed everything and dusted for fingerprints. From the doorway of the holding room, we watched the body bag roll by on a stretcher. We were all stunned, moved, and frightened. We barely spoke at all.

Until the police came in with fingerprint cards and ink, I don't think it occurred to any of us that we were suspects… or that a killer might be among us.

We were questioned individually in the kitchen by a short, balding male officer with glasses. His badge had the name Moore on it. During my turn, he wrote down my name and asked, "All right, miss, where were you when you heard Mandy scream?"

"On my cot trying to sleep."

He scribbled in his notes. "And for the half-hour preceding that?"

I explained about being in the kitchen, then returning to the holding room.

He scribbled more. "Did you go to the bathroom at any time?"

"No."

"You just laid on your cot and stayed there?"

"Yes."

"Did you see anyone else leave?"

"I was aware of the door opening and shutting a few times, of walking back and forth, but I didn't see who. My eyes were shut."

He let me go back to the holding room alone, after asking me to send in Holly. The doorless stretch of hallway must have been deemed safe enough for us to walk alone—and no one could escape from it. As I reached the last curve before the holding room door, I heard Morgellen arguing with another police officer. "We are conducting an Eximium! Every one of the contestants has been given a dagger. Every Elder has one as well, though I cannot be sure if any of us brought ours. I didn't bring mine."

"We will have to have everyone's dagger," the officer said. "For forensic testing." He radioed to another officer and requested thirty evidence bags be brought.

"You may take the daggers and proceed with your investigation, young man, but we must continue with our competition."

"That may not be possible—"

Despite the horror I felt that someone was dead, I was ready to cheer about getting out of the interview with the Elders. But Morgellen cut him off mid-sentence.

"I assure you it is," she insisted, her voice firm. "We will keep to the Great Hall. You may do your work here."

"In all likelihood, ma'am, one of them is guilty! I want them all confined to the holding room below ground for now."

"I don't doubt that, young man, but the rest of them are not killers and a high priestess will be chosen from among them. These women are foresworn to compete, and face dire consequences should they refuse to participate, let alone leave these grounds before the night is over. We Elders see no reason to halt the contest."

"Someone has taken a life, ma'am. Your consequences are clearly less of a deterrent to the killer than the threat of life imprisonment or capital punishment."

"Perhaps, Officer Detrick, but our prize is probably the motive for the murder. Our proceeding may help you find the murderer."

I stepped into view as if I hadn't been listening out of sight. Still, I felt the weight of Morgellen's gaze as I passed.

Rejoining the others, I said to Holly, "Officer Moore will see you next." She left as I sat on my cot.

Overhearing Elder Morgellen and Officer Detrick confirmed to me that Suzanne had been stabbed to death and one of the ceremonial daggers we'd each pulled from the cauldron was the most likely weapon.

Hot, I removed my sweatshirt, folded it, and laid it under my cot. I smoothed the copper Henley down.

Why would anyone kill her? As I understood it, none of us contestants knew each other, beyond what would be revealed in holding-room chatting. I thought about each person in the room, considering Morgellen's suggested motive. Who might have done it?

I noted Holly's empty cot; she was answering Officer Moore's questions right now.

As the runner-up, if one person was out of the running, she was in for the next round and therefore had a one in ten shot at advancing. If she remained the runner-up, she would compete, but it would not even be counted unless one of the other ten refused.

Or died.

I remembered how she had glared at Suzanne in the kitchen when Suzanne spoke of being "vigilant for our cause." Among us, Holly was the only one who seemed to have any benefit from Suzanne's death. Did the paper tiger have real claws?

Morgellen had convinced the police to let the Elders proceed with the Eximium. I had no idea how she managed it but the fact that she was an Elder left me wondering if she would use her power to compel him into giving his permission. Unethical, but considering the situation, I wouldn't rule it out. Even if she was sincere in her belief that we would aid in the killer's capture if we continued, allowing us to do so with a killer loose among us was quite a risk to take.

Another officer came to the holding room and bagged and tagged each of our daggers individually. A watchful and silent female officer stayed in the room with us when he left.

When I was called to my interview at ten after nine, my feet felt heavy. Escorted upstairs by Lydia and the dagger-bagging cop, I trudged along, my legs like iron weights. How could I shield? How could I hide? At the bottom of the steps to the Great Hall, I stopped. This was my formal meeting with the Elders. Nana had warned me about this.

Would they detect that I was the Lustrata? That I carried a stain? Would I, in the next few moments, be condemned to be Bindspoken? Maybe that wouldn't be so bad. Maybe it would nullify the stain.

But I couldn't imagine not feeling the vibration in a stone, or the elemental's spirits standing guard in a circle, or not hearing the call of a ley line.

Determined to clear my mind and keep my secrets my own, I started up the steps. The handrail was cold under my sweaty palm as I ascended into the dark, and turned to the dimly lit center of the vast floor.

"Come, child," said the Eldrenne.

I went.

The candlewicks had receded deep; the flames were no longer atop the pillars, but housed inside thin walls of wax, dimming the already low light until the Elders' faces were shadowed under the brims of their hats, wrinkles deep and forbidding as they appraised me.

"Merry Meet," I said, bowing in formal greeting, "Elders and Eldrenne. I am—"

"You are Persephone Alcmedi, of Eris Alcmedi, of Demeter Alcmedi, of Clio Alcmedi, of Thalia Alcmedi, of Elpis Alcmedi," Elspeth said.

"Yes," I answered. My Greek witch lineage went back centuries. I was grateful she didn't want to list it all.

"As the local nominee, we all anticipated you would breeze through the written portion of the test, as surely the acting priestess made a wise choice in you. We were not disappointed. We are assured by your very nomination that you not only know the Rede well, but strictly adhere to it."

Fighting against swallowing the lump forming in my throat as it would be a telltale sign, I worked at mastering the blankness within me and without and making the lump shrink so it wasn't choking me.

"Being high priestess is many things," Elspeth continued. "What concerns us here is how, in some ways, it is akin to being the owner of a business. There is a budget to consider—funds must come in, and they must flow out as well. What would you do to keep that flow of funds coming, and what would you do with it once you were in control of the Venefica Coven finances?"

Whoa. I didn't actually want this job. Suddenly, I was willing to bet Hunter had a business degree. Vivian had run a coffee shop, so she had a degree of sorts, or experience anyway. What experience did I have? "I honestly don't have experience with a business's finances but I am self-employed, so I understand money management and documentation. I maintain savings, handle investments with the help of a qualified professional, and live within my means. Do you have guidelines, training, or assistance in this area?"

Elspeth's mouth crooked wickedly on one side. It was not a smile; more like a cat's mouth twitching before it pounced. "You readily admit then, that you are not experienced enough to take this position and would need help."

"Yes, if it is available. If left to my own, though, I'd pull the books and study what was spent where and for what purpose in the past, and compare that to the budget at the time. I could create my own guidelines that way."

"What would you do to raise funds?"

"Find a successful coven and ask their priestess to share her techniques with me."

"Bah!" She thumped her staff on the dais and shook her head, irritated. "Do you know what the annual goals for this coven are? The long-term goals?"

"No."

"Are you aware of the policies and politics? The promises and commitments made to local government?"

"No."

"Have you read the Coven's business minutes? Have you even shown up to a sabbat?"

"No."

She screeched questions at me in a rapid-fire manner, but there she paused. "What makes you think," she taunted ruthlessly, "the members of this coven would accept you as their high priestess?"

My face turned to the floor. I felt so damn small in that giant room, like a mouse that had left its hole in the wall and scurried into the middle of the room only to have a big cat leap in front of me. "I don't." I felt cold, as if a draft blew over me; I should have left my sweatshirt on.

The Elders began whispering and murmuring to themselves as if they were a mental group in a nursing home. But there was a cadence to it, a rhythm, and I knew it was more than mad ravings.

"The local nominee," the Eldrenne whispered and her voice silenced the others, "is not indifferent to her coven. She is a solitary, who knows nothing of the coven model."

My head lifted. She had her palm out to me. No wonder I felt a draft; she was searching my aura. "That is true," I said. I hoped like hell she couldn't see things I didn't want her to see. I centered my thoughts on what experience I did have.

"The acting priestess has nominated a woman who cannot hope to run the coven!" Elspeth cried in outrage.

The Eldrenne's blind eyes seemed locked on me; her lids narrowed.

I went utterly still.

The Eldrenne gestured dismissively and the cool draft dissipated. "Lydia's a wise witch. She would never waste her nomination," the Eldrenne countered. "Tell us, Persephone Alcmedi, what qualities does Lydia see in you that make you worthy for this honor, despite your weaknesses?"

"I have many strengths," I said with conviction. "I am well known in my community for my skills with divination and counseling, especially with Tarot. I write a syndicated newspaper column, so I am well aware of local and national views on not only witches, but waeres as well. And I am always learning more about vampires and fairies. I have become something of a champion for the other-than-ordinary community, though admittedly I think that public battle will continue for some time. My long lineage affords me access to several Books of Shadows. I can organize people, set goals, form and implement a plan. I am responsible, fair, and hard-working." As I spoke, I realized I was getting angry and defensive. I couldn't help adding, "And I'm wondering why you aren't asking me about my spirituality and moral compass, which pantheon I prefer, and what elemental quarter-calls I use."

The Eldrenne laughed; it was a heh-heh-heh chuckle. "I think we know what Lydia saw in you," she said. Her hand returned to her lap and her face dropped down again. It seemed a kind of signal.

Elspeth resumed her questioning. "What is it you hope to accomplish, should you become high priestess?"

I hadn't thought about answering questions like this. I should have. Now was not the time to be formulating such ideas.

"You are hesitant to share your hopes?"

"No. No. It isn't that. I just…" I paused again, knowing I was not getting off to a good start. "Vivian pandered to the kind of witches who are mostly show and talk. I didn't like that and it kept me rooted in being a solitary. It seemed she snubbed those who wanted to practice the witches' ways of magic and spirituality."

Elspeth gestured to indicate the geo-dome. "Her 'pandering' paid off well for Venefica Coven."

"Yes, this facility is an admirable Covenstead." My hands slipped meekly into my pockets.

"You would snub those curious souls who gave deeply from their personal finances?"

"No, never." I paused. "I don't have a grand speech to pitch myself to you. What I know is that most of those who paid for this wanted a place to brag about, a place to be toadied to as they are at their country clubs and spas. Their donations were generous, but they were also strategic tax deductions." I pulled my hands from my pockets. "Vivian was good at schmoozing the wealthy. But, for the rest… take Mandy, for instance. That girl is a seeker, and she's thirsty for knowledge. She idolized Vivian, and Vivian took advantage of her. What does Mandy have to show for her loyal service? I'm not sure Vivian taught her anything. Mandy, and those like her, are the future. They are you" — I gestured at the dais—"decades from now. What groundwork is being laid for them? What ethics and standards are they being taught? Any?"

"So ethics and standards are important to you?"

"Yes. Personal responsibility, accountability, and a true sense of kindness. What is a high priestess if not a teacher? What will anyone learn from someone who cares nothing for them?" I hushed myself there. This was not a soapbox. I wasn't here to preach at the Elders.

"What else is important to you?"

"Justice." I said it without thinking.

Elspeth raised a white brow at me.

Had I just opened a trap for myself? Given them a clue I didn't want them to have?

"Justice," Elspeth repeated slowly, her expression pensive.

"Curious," another Elder murmured.

The Eldrenne lifted her blind eyes again.

Suddenly I said, "Someone died here tonight. Aren't we all feeling the importance of justice?"

"Yes," the Eldrenne said. "Yes, we are." Something about the curve of her lips said she was on track with my thoughts. She wasn't going to be diverted from that course by any attempt of mine to link it to tonight's crime.