Harley Merlin 4: Harley Merlin and the First Ritual
Page 22
With that, I left the training room, my mind racing with thoughts of the future. Quetzi was still on the loose, but things were looking up. If I could really break this Suppressor and get my affinities balanced, then we’d have the advantage we sorely needed against Katherine. Even so, one little gnawing concern nibbled away at the back of my brain. I hadn’t been able to silence it since the kids arrived last night. We had nine of them back at the coven, but it had almost been too easy. The security teams had found them and brought them to us, seemingly without a fight.
Katherine Shipton, what are you up to?
Nineteen
Harley
“Harley, there you are!” Astrid called, as I headed for the Banquet Hall. I needed some time to figure out how I was going to get my hands on that Sanguine spell. Even if I managed to find it, I’d have to get the blood that Nomura had mentioned.
The more I’d thought about it, the more a disappointing realization had started to dawn. Maybe Nomura hadn’t given me that information to put the ball in my court. Maybe he’d told me all about it because he knew it was a near-impossible task. He’d spoken about magicals in Purgatory being the only ones who might be strong enough to fit the bill of what I needed. How the heck was I supposed to get in there and get some blood from a known criminal, without alerting anyone to what I was up to?
Cheers, Nomura… Way to build a girl up and let her down. Real sneaky.
“Sorry, I was just grabbing coffee and a bite to eat. I was on my way to the interrogation room, I swear,” I replied. To be honest, I’d been coming up with excuses for the last half hour, trying to pick the best one. I had other things to be doing, instead of interviewing the entire coven. My time was better served elsewhere—I just didn’t know how to break that to Astrid.
“Never mind that,” she said urgently. “I wanted to tell you what I found out about the Cult of Eris. You were right—it really relaxed my brain last night. I haven’t been able to stop reading since.”
“Not really the point of relaxation, but whatever floats your boat.”
She smiled. “I thought you’d be eager to hear what I discovered.”
“Do you want to talk here?” I glanced around at the near-empty Banquet Hall. The newcomers had already taken their food downstairs, before the coven started to stir. Alton had orchestrated everything to perfection, forging a dance between the kids and the rest of the magicals so they passed each other like ships in the night. It was an impressive bit of logistics.
“I suppose so. I could do with one of those.” She gestured to the huge mug of coffee in my hand.
“You really need to try a massage,” I teased, taking up a seat at the top end of the far-left table, while she went to fetch herself a cup of coffee. She gulped it down as she set a fat folder on the tabletop.
“So, although I did a lot of reading, the information I managed to gather was weirdly sparse,” Astrid began. “It’s like chunks of history have been removed from all available repositories. That led me to delve deeper. I don’t like censorship at the best of times, and I was certain there had to be some snippets of information somewhere.”
“Hey, that folder looks pretty weighty to me.”
She laughed. “It’s mostly photos. I managed to get some prints of the Apple of Discord, just to be sure that it was the same as the horrible tattoo thing that Katherine mutilated Kenneth with. I already knew that the Apple was related to Eris, which ended up being my starting point for last night’s research session. Do you know much about it?”
“Nada.”
“Well, it’s the apple that supposedly caused the Trojan War. In Greek mythology, the Goddess Eris decided to toss the apple into the mix during the feast of the gods, at the wedding of Peleus and Thetis. Inscribed on the golden exterior were the words ‘to the most beautiful.’ Naturally, this sparked something of a dispute amongst three of the other goddesses, each of them vying to be named the most beautiful—Aphrodite, Hera, and Athena. Are you following so far?”
“Yep. Although I’m also kind of thinking about a young Brad Pitt and Eric Bana in loincloths.”
She grinned. “Well, while you drool, I’ll tell you the rest of the story. So, our good friend Eris, the Goddess of Discord, wasn’t invited to the wedding. Irked by the snub, she decided to cause a little ruckus to get her revenge and amuse herself, as a bonus. When she tossed the golden apple into the party, Aphrodite, Hera, and Athena claimed it as theirs, each of them thinking themselves the proverbial fairest of them all.”
“Hang on a second… are we still talking about Troy here? That sounds an awful lot like Snow White to me.”
“Walt Disney probably took some influence from it, same as The Lion King is just Hamlet with lions and a humorous warthog-meerkat duo. They’re meant to be Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, in case you’re interested,” she replied.
“Whoa. Next, you’ll tell me that Beauty and the Beast is supposed to be Macbeth.” I chuckled.
“Anyway!” Astrid tried not to laugh. “The goddesses tried to get Zeus to judge who was the most beautiful. He didn’t want to end up getting skewered during the night by an irritated goddess, so he decided that Paris, a Trojan mortal, should choose. There was some nudity involved I think, but we won’t get into that, and each of the goddesses tried to bribe him. But, in the end, he settled on Aphrodite, because she offered him exactly what he wanted—Helen of Sparta.”
I raised my hand. “You mean Helen of Troy?”
“Well, she was ‘of Sparta’ then. The ‘of Troy’ bit came later, when Paris snatched her and married her himself. See, she was already married to Menelaus, who was a Greek king. That’s what caused the Trojan War, because Menelaus launched a campaign to get his wife back. And all because of a single golden apple, thrown into the mix by an unhappy Eris.”
“I mean, personally, I hate weddings. I’d have been happy not to be invited.”
Astrid snorted into her coffee. “Not exactly the point, Harley.”
“No… I guess not.”
“So, she’s always intrinsically linked with this apple, as that story seems to be the only prominent one about her. Looks like Katherine is out to spread a little discord of her own, if this is anything to go by.”
“Well, and all the crappy stuff she’s been doing.”
“Yes, that too.”
“Right, now the apple makes sense. Anything else in that folder of yours?”
She pulled out a few sheets of paper and spread them evenly in front of her. “This is the majority of what I could find. A bit more Greek mythology, claiming her to be the Goddess of Strife and Discord, but we got most of that from the apple thing. However, she was also noted to be the equivalent of the Goddess of War, Enyo.”
“Mrs. Smith liked to listen to her.”
“Enyo, not Enya. Do you need another one of those?” She nodded at my coffee mug.
I laughed, taking another sip. “It’ll kick in, in a minute. Bear with me until then.”
“I’ll try. Anyway, Enyo is a whole different kettle of fish. Discord and Strife aren’t particularly heartwarming, but it’s better than being the Goddess of War, Destruction, Conquest, and Bloodlust. Back then, from what we know, a lot of these gods and goddesses were interchangeable, and if Eris is the same as Enyo, then we’re in a heap of trouble, if that’s what Katherine is modeling her image on.”
She took a nervous breath before continuing. “I managed to find out a lot more about this Enyo character. She’s referred to as the ‘Sister of War’ and was a pretty bad egg, in most mythological accounts. She was responsible for the destruction of entire cities, loved all things warfare, and often rode into battle with Ares—the God of War himself. In fact, she even refused to take sides in a terrible battle between Zeus and the monster, Typhon. Here, there’s a passage about it: ‘Impartial Enyo held equal balance between the two sides, between Zeus and Typhon, while the thunderbolts with booming shots reveled like dancers in the sky.’”
My heart stopped. “What did you jus
t say?”
“‘Impartial Enyo held equal balance between the two sides, between—’”
“No, that’s cool—I got it.” It was too similar to be coincidence. If Zeus had leaned toward the Light and Typhon toward the Dark, then Enyo had been the one to maintain the equilibrium between both.
Wait… does that mean I’m Enyo/Eris in this scenario?
“Everything okay? You disappeared for a moment there,” Astrid said, her tone worried.
I nodded. “I’m fine, just a lot on my mind.”
“Brad Pitt still?”
“If only,” I replied, with a wry grin.
“Am I boring you?” She sounded hurt, her gaze dropping.
I touched her forearm. “Not at all. I love all this stuff. Like I said, I’m still waiting for the caffeine to hit, and when it does—man, it’s going to hit me hard.”
She smiled, clearly satisfied. “There were a few other quotes that I found, mostly about the split personality of these two amalgamated goddesses. Here, it mentions that ‘After all, there was not one kind of Strife alone, but all over the earth there are two. As for the one, a man would praise her when he came to understand her; but the other is blameworthy: and they are wholly different in nature. For one fosters evil war and battle, being cruel: her, no man loves; but perforce, through the will of the deathless gods, men pay harsh Strife her honor due.’ It has Katherine written all over it, if you ask me. I was quite startled by the parallels. This discord thing seems to be the concept she’s creating for herself—a terrifying, ruthless, warlike goddess who has to be worshiped and feared by everyone.”
What was with all this duality? It was starting to freak me out, not only because it sounded like Katherine’s ball of twine, but because it resonated in my own head. Did this mean there was an opposite to Katherine, somewhere in the world? A person who could restore the balance of what she wanted to destroy? I wasn’t arrogant enough to think it was me, but a gnawing suspicion remained. Maybe it was supposed to be Hester—Katherine’s twin. With her gone, who else could step into that role?
What if Katherine has already killed the one thing that could stop her? I didn’t want to dwell on it, in case it turned out to be true.
“Well, no man loved Katherine, that’s for sure,” I said bitterly. “Not without a nasty little curse, anyway.”
“That’s what I thought. As soon as I saw it, I got a picture of her in my head,” Astrid agreed. “And the last bit: ‘…through the will of the deathless gods, men pay harsh Strife her honor due.’ If she becomes a Child of Chaos, then she will be the deathless god.”
I shuddered. “I don’t want to find out what kind of honor we’ll have to pay her, if that happens.”
“There was another quote that I found quite interesting. This was apparently spoken by Eris herself: ‘I am chaos. I am the substance from which your artists and scientists build rhythms. I am the spirit with which your children and clowns laugh in happy anarchy. I am chaos. I am alive, and I tell you that you are free.’ You know how I mentioned to you in the foyer that there’s been a long-held belief that there are more than four children of Chaos?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, this would suggest that Eris is Chaos itself, or at least another one of the Children.”
“I’m not going to sleep well tonight,” I muttered. None of this sounded good, though it was clear that Katherine was setting her sights high. If she could become Chaos itself, superseding the other Children, then there’d be no stopping her new world order—whatever that vision was. Kenneth still hadn’t breathed a word about it.
My phone went off. Wade’s name flashed up on the screen. I picked it up and gave Astrid an apologetic look, but she just smiled knowingly. I wanted to protest that it wasn’t like that, but I’d already answered the call.
“Harley?”
“Yep, you called me, remember?”
“We don’t have time for sarcasm,” he shot back. “Imogene and Remington arrived five minutes ago, on Levi’s orders, and they want to take the kids away. Get down to the prison cells, now!”
“I’m on my way.” I hung up and turned to Astrid. “Imogene and Remington are here. They want to take the kids.”
Astrid frowned. “What? Does Alton know?”
“I guess so. Come on, we need to go—now.”
She nodded, getting up from her seat and following me out of the Banquet Hall. We tore through the labyrinth of corridors, using one of the concealed stairwells to get down to the prison cells in double-quick time. As we burst through the door to the subterranean level, only Wade and Santana were there when we arrived, with Alton standing beside Remington, the two of them in the midst of a heated discussion. Their voices were low, but the hiss of anger was unmistakable, and I could feel it, too. Meanwhile, Imogene seemed to be looking over the children one by one, ticking them off on a sheet of paper she’d brought in an elegant leather binder. She was crouched low, speaking to them in soft tones.
“Where are the other two?” she asked gently. “Denzel Ford and Andrew Prescott—do you know where they are?”
I could sense fear rippling off the gathered children, though Imogene’s soft voice seemed to calm them slightly. I remembered how in awe of her I’d been, the first time I’d met her. And, right now, she had the respect and attention of every single child, their eyes looking up at her as though she were their only hope.
To my surprise, Louella was the one to speak up. “Katherine killed them.” Her voice cracked, her lower lip trembling.
I gasped, drawing Imogene’s attention for a moment.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
Louella nodded. “I saw her do it. She decided their abilities weren’t going to serve her, after all, and she killed them in front of us. She put her hands on their shoulders and muttered this weird spell—a fiery light shot through them, and they just disintegrated into golden specks. They screamed for her to stop, but she didn’t care. She killed them anyway.” She lifted her hand to her mouth as tears escaped down her cheeks.
Some of the smaller children began to cry, and even Sarah McCormick had a glint of tears in her stony eyes. Looking at Wade, Santana, and Astrid, I saw my horror reflected in their faces. She’d killed children. That bitch had killed innocent little kids. Astrid looked the most shaken of us all, her gaze fixed on Imogene’s face, a flurry of mixed emotions coming off her—sadness, shock, and something like anger. I understood exactly where she was coming from.
“I’m so sorry you had to endure such a terrible thing,” Imogene said quietly, rubbing Louella’s arm. “Really, I’m so sorry that you’ve had to suffer at her cruel hands, all this time. Please believe that we were doing all we could to help you, to save you. I’m so grateful you’ve been found at last. From now on, you will be safe, I promise. We’ll make sure you get the best care and cannot be discovered by her again.”
“Thank you, Miss Whitehall,” Louella murmured, a sad smile on her face.
“Which is why we’re taking you all with us,” Imogene explained. “You cannot be properly protected here. The SDC has many excellent attributes, but with its past history, it isn’t appropriate for you children to remain here. I can’t force the two of you to come with us—Marjorie, Louella—as you are of an age where you may make the choice for yourselves, but I hope you will consider this offer of sanctuary.”
Alton turned away from Remington and strode up to Imogene’s side. “This is ludicrous, Imogene. Taking them away from here will only put them at greater risk. We’re taking steps to find a better location for them to hide in, and we are close to a resolution. Please, let them stay here. They will be safe, I promise you.”
She smiled apologetically. “You know I can’t do that, Alton. It’s beyond my jurisdiction. The National Council has ordered that we take them to a safer facility. They trust your ability to care for your own, but the choice has been taken from all of us. It will be better this way.”
“And what about Micah? I can train
him in the art of Necromancy. He’ll learn more from me than he can elsewhere,” Alton pleaded.
Hearing his name, Micah ran up to me and clung to my arm. His palms were sweaty and there were tears rolling down his rosy cheeks. All the while, Fluffers was perched on his shoulder, his hackles up. Neither of them wanted to go, and I wasn’t going to make them. Yes, the SDC wasn’t perfect, but we could keep them safe. I knew we could.
“With the exception of the two older girls, should they choose to stay, the children are all coming with me. It really is for the best,” Imogene insisted, her tone apologetic.
“Imogene, can’t you see they’re scared?” I interrupted. “Let them decide where they want to go—please.”
“I know you want them to stay with you, but we have a secure place for them to live. It has all been prepared. They will be safe, at last. Really, truly safe.”
“They’re safe here!”
A flicker of frustration crossed her face, though it softened into a defeated sigh. “This is not negotiable, Harley. I’m sorry, but it’s not. I have my orders from the National Council, and I can’t defy them, as much as I might want to. We must all do what is best for these children, even if it seems difficult now.”
At that, Remington stepped forward and wrenched Micah away from me. The cat leapt at his face in an attempt to defend his owner, but Remington cast the creature to one side with a sharp swipe of the hand, the animal dropping to the ground with a hiss. Micah let out a blood-curdling howl as he fought to reach his beloved pet, but Remington held him fast, bundling him into his arms. When it became clear that Micah wasn’t going to stop, he tapped the boy on the head and whispered something. A second later, Micah went limp in his arms, sleeping like a baby.
“I didn’t want it to be like this, Harley, I really didn’t,” Imogene said with a sigh. “I’m sorry for the unpleasantness. And to you, Alton.” With a remorseful expression, she bent to pick up the irate cat and cradled it in her arms. It relaxed, purring as she scratched between its ears.