by Cate Tiernan
“Matinee’ll be air-conditioned,” Kevin coaxed.
“You talked me into it,” I said, and he grinned. At that moment, I felt so happy to be sitting there, so un-witch-like, like I used to be.
Of course, I was kidding myself.
Éternalité
“This apartment is okay, isn’t it?” Sophie asked Manon. She stood at the sink, washing their lunch dishes. Manon was at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper.
“It’s fine,” said Manon. “I like being on the second floor.”
It had been lucky, how quickly they’d found a nice place to live, Sophie thought. The apartment wasn’t big, just four rooms, but the two of them didn’t need much space. And the building was charming, an old Victorian home that had been cut up and rented out. It was only a block from the streetcar line. Maybe if they stayed here awhile, they would rent a car.
Manon came up behind Sophie and put her arms around her waist. Sophie turned her head and smiled at her, still up to her elbows in suds. They didn’t have a dishwasher, but she was used to that.
“Do you think Petra’s twins will want to do the rite?” Manon asked her. “Want immortality?”
Sophie thought. “I don’t know. Daedalus can’t be making a good impression—he has ‘power hungry’ written all over him. And I don’t know the girls at all. I just don’t know. It wouldn’t be an easy choice.”
Manon was silent for a while, resting her head against Sophie’s back.
“If you could choose this time, would you want it?” Manon asked.”Last time, we didn’t get to choose. It got shoved down our throats. But do you think you’d have wanted it, éternalité, if you’d had a choice?”
“Hmm. I guess so,” said Sophie, thinking. “There’s been so much I enjoy doing. I like modern life. I’m so glad I’ve gotten to experience a life that isn’t so hard and short, like it was when we were born.”
“Also, it took you about a hundred years to fall in love with me,” said Manon, and Sophie laughed, a little embarrassed.
“True,” she said. “I was a slow learner.”
“I wouldn’t choose it,” said Manon, letting go of Sophie and walking over to a window. “I wouldn’t choose immortality.”
Sophie was surprised. Manon had never said anything like that before.
“In fact,” Manon said, looking out the window, “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. If we can do the rite and change things, the way Daedalus says—I think I would choose to die this time. At last.” She turned to look back at Sophie, but Sophie was frozen in place, shock turning her to stone.
Sophie had never, ever considered that Manon might want to die. The idea, after all this time, was unthinkable. They’d always been together, even before they were lovers. They’d always planned to be together in the future. Now, out of nowhere, she wanted to die? Sophie had no words. Without Manon—she would die also. There was no way she would want to continue in this life without Manon to come home to, to share everything with. They made each other laugh, comforted each other, held hands in scary movies. Took care of each other when they were sick. They were two halves, joined together. One half alone would never survive.
Carefully Sophie rinsed the plates and put them in the dish drainer. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so panicked, so desperate. Her heart was pounding, and cold sweat had broken out on her forehead. She couldn’t even form the words yet to ask Manon why, why she’d want to leave her, to die. She couldn’t even look at her.
But there was no way she would allow that to happen, no way she would let Manon die.
I ended up buying a pair of new shoes anyway. Racey and I hit our favorite shoe store on Magazine Street, and they had an adorable pair of Doc Martens on sale that would be great for what passed as winter here.
“Now what?” said Racey. “We’ve done the medicinal snack and the medicinal shoes. I for one am feeling a little better, though I never want to do magick with Thais again.”
“Do you really think it’s her?” I said. “But why would she have this effect? She hardly has any power yet. And it’s not just because she isn’t trained—I mean, I can do spells with some untrained little kid, and I wouldn’t get blown across a fricking room.”
“Well, I know it’s not me,” said Racey dryly.
For the hundred-and-oneth time I wished Nan was back, despite how upset I was with her, and that reminded me: I took out my phone and called Ouida’s cell phone number. It rang, but in the end I only got her voice mail. I left a message, asking her to call me.
“Okay, so I’m going to take you up on your sleep-over offer,” I told Racey. “I just don’t want to be in that house alone another night. Let me go home and get some stuff, and I’ll come back later, okay?”
“Cool,” said Racey, getting out of the car. “Later, then.”
“Later.”
I drove home, worry really starting to weigh me down. Just a few weeks ago, I’d been totally on top of my life. I’d met Andre, who was my soul mate and the guy I wanted to spend the rest of my life with; Nan was just my Nan; and everything was normal.
Now nothing was. I had an identical twin—me, gorgeous Clio, who all the guys stared at. I wasn’t unique anymore. Nan wasn’t really my grandmother, and she was part of some science-fiction setup with a bunch of other witches who made Survivor look like a tea party. Nan, my Nan, had lied to me my whole life. Everything I had thought was true about me and her had been a lie. It made me feel like I didn’t know her, like I’d been living with a stranger. But… she was still my Nan, the only grown-up who always took care of me, and I couldn’t help feeling like she was still the only person I could trust to keep me safe, especially with someone out there trying to hurt me and Thais. I shivered, automatically glancing in my rearview mirror at the thought. I knew just what Thais meant about feeling constantly on edge, like someone could be lurking anywhere, ready to come at you. It was beyond freaky to know someone wanted you dead and to have no idea who that person was.
I looked back at the road as I drove up to the house, feeling relief wash over me when I spotted Nan’s old Volvo parked three cars down. Finally, she was back!
Now I would get answers to my questions, hear her explanations. I leaped out of my car and raced through the gate and up the steps. Then Nan was opening the door for me. I hesitated for just a second—I was really angry at her—but old habits and my worry won out, and I threw myself into her arms.
“Nan!” I said. “Nan! I thought you were never coming back!”
She held me tightly, one hand stroking my hair, murmuring, “Shhh, shhh,” the way she used to when I was little and I’d skinned my knee. And then, taking us both by surprise, I burst into tears. “Don’t go away again,” I sobbed, effectively leaving my calm, cool Clio image in the dust.
“I won’t, my dear,” Nan said. “Come inside now and tell me everything.”
We went to the kitchen and I noticed she’d been home long enough to clean up. I watched her as she poured us cold drinks.
“You lied to me,” I said, and saw her wince. “I trusted you. You’ve been lying to me my whole life. You kept my father from me. I’ll never have a chance to know him.”
“I’m so sorry, Clio,” she said. “I was … afraid. I wanted to keep you safe, at almost any cost. I’m not sure if I did the right thing or not. But you have to believe that I never intended to hurt you.”
“That wasn’t even all, though,” I went on. “Even after all of that came out, and you barely explained it, then you go away and I hear about this whole Treize thing. It’s… unbelievable. And I heard about it from a bunch of strangers. They were telling the truth, right?”
“Pretty much,” Nan said quietly.
I let out a breath. Some part of me hadn’t fully accepted it as real until that moment, hearing her confirm it. “You’re not even my grandmother. We’re related so far back I can’t even figure it out!”
“Thirteen generations,” Nan said, her long, slim finger
s curled around her glass. “But we are related—I still am your nearest relative, besides Thais. And I wanted to tell you so many times, but I truly didn’t know how. I just didn’t want the Treize to touch your life.”
“Too late,” I said.
“I know. And I know they’re putting their grand plan into action. You and I and Thais have to determine where we stand on that and on other things.”
“Yeah, like whether we want to live forever,” I said, and consternation crossed her face. I told her about Axelle and how we knew about the rite and had met everyone and had a circle.
“So you met Luc, did you?” Nan asked, as if picking up on something.
I shrugged. I’d never told Nan the details of my plunges into the dating pool, and now I felt even less close to her, trusted her less.
“Clio—did Luc hurt you? And Thais?”
There was no way I would admit how bad it had been to anyone. It was too embarrassing and made me feel like my heart, pumping and bleeding, was hung on the outside of my chest.
I shrugged again and met Nan’s eyes. “Not really.” I sighed. “But what a jerk. He dated both me and Thais. Luckily, we found out almost right away. We both screamed at him, and then when we saw that he was also part of the Treize, we froze him out.”
Nan looked at me, weighing my words. I wondered if she’d heard anything different, from someone else, and decided it didn’t matter. That was my story, and I was sticking to it.
“So it wasn’t any worse than that?”
“No. I mean, we’re still majorly pissed. But we’re dealing.”
“Um-hmm.”
I had to change the subject. “So where were you all this time? Why didn’t you call?”
“I was in Connecticut, fixing Michel Allard’s will.”
I frowned. “Thais’s dad?”I paused, feeling something weird in my stomach. “My dad?” I added, the words sounding funny. “Why? What do you mean, fix?”
“Somehow, right after Michel died, either Axelle or Daedalus changed Michel’s will so Axelle would get custody of Thais.”
“Oh yeah.”
“Yes. So this time I went up and changed his will myself.”
My head was spinning. “And they don’t have phones in Connecticut? I didn’t realize how backward they were.”
Nan looked at me wryly. “I was extremely busy the whole time, and I didn’t want to be in touch until everything was worked out. I knew you’d have so many questions…. The phone didn’t seem the right way to do this.”
“You changed the will back to how it was? Is Thais going back to Connecticut to be with that neighbor?”
“No. I changed his will so I would have custody,” Nan said, her eyes very clear and calm, looking into mine. “I’m Thais’s legal guardian now, and she’s going to come live with us.”
It took a moment for that to sink in. Another huge change in my life. I did feel a quick rush of gladness that she wasn’t going back north, yet—
“Do I have to share my room?”
Nan smiled at me, so familiar, and despite my anger, I was relieved she was back. “No,” she said, with an amused look. “I’ve thought about it, and I’m going to move myself to the little alcove room under the stairs. Thais will have my room. I don’t need much space anyway. It will be fine.”
Right now, the tiny little room under the stairs was our junk room.
“Well, if you think so. I’ll help you clear it out,” I said.
“Thank you.”
And then here’s the Clio part: it occurred to me that with Thais living here, I’d be much more involved with her life, know what she was doing. Like if she was seeing Luc, for example. I felt ashamed as soon as I thought that, but I knew it was true.
“Oh my God—there’s stuff I haven’t even told you,” I said, my heart beating faster. “Someone’s trying to kill me and Thais, and there’s something wrong with Thais’s magick.”
Nan’s eyes opened wide, and I went on to tell her all about our attacks, and the wasps, and how Melysa, one of my teachers, had saved us. I ran down our current theories and who we’d eliminated. Nan looked increasingly concerned as I went on, and her lips pressed together the way they did when she was mad at me.
Finally she nodded slowly, looking thoughtful. “Okay. I’m back, and I’ll get to the bottom of that. Now, what do you mean, there’s something wrong with Thais’s magick?”
So I told her about the spells we’d tried, and how they’d gone wonky, and then we’d done the joining spell, which had blown us across the room. Nan had nodded approvingly at the mention of the spell, but when I mentioned the hand-grenade effect, she looked astonished.
“What?” she said, as if she hadn’t heard right.
“We got blown right out of the circle, across the workroom,” I said again. I told her how I’d set the spell up, putting in every detail I could think of. “I felt like a rag doll. Then, just this morning, I thought we could try to do a réléver la griffe to see if we could find out who was trying to hurt us.”
Nan nodded; it was perfectly reasonable.
“We did it at Racey’s because I felt weird here. And I set it up carefully, four stones of protection, blah blah blah, and I was doing my song, and Racey joined in like a million times before, and then Thais joined in, singing, and she sounded good, you know? Like she knew what she was doing. Or at least, like what was coming out of her mouth was real.”
I realized I hadn’t asked Thais how she’d known what to sing. I’d ask her later.
“Then what happened?”
“We got blown across the room. All of us. We felt like crap, and Thais hit her face on the cabinet. She has a black eye.”
Nan looked at me like I’d announced I was joining the Peace Corps.
“I can’t believe it,” she said. “Racey got thrown too?”
I nodded. “And Azura felt it, a big boom of magick, inside their house, and she came running. She said not to mess with it again unless you were with us.”
Nan shook her head. “You physically got moved, through a closed circle.”
“We got thrown across the room,” I repeated.
“Thais has a black eye? Where is she now?”
I shrugged. “She ran into some friends from school and was going to hang with them. Azura patched her up pretty good. It should be mostly gone by tomorrow. I mean, do you have any idea what could cause something like that?”
Nan didn’t answer.
The Marked Girl Brings You Death
The snake—a nonpoisonous boa constrictor—coiled around the fortune-teller’s neck. Claire watched it, amused. It might actually spook someone who didn’t know squat about snakes.
The tiny Thai woman, her face the color and texture of a dried tobacco leaf, peered down at Claire’s palm very solemnly. Claire shot a glance at her friend, who’d convinced her to come see Madame Chu, one of the most respected fortune-tellers in Phuket. Her friend gave her a “be patient” glance and bent her head to light a cigarette.
This market was like any number of markets Claire had seen, in any number of countries. Uneven rows of canvas stalls, beat-up coolers holding fish, squid, shrimp. People hawking gold jewelry next to a stand selling fried batter. Roasted animals hung from poles overhead, filling the air with their scent and steam.
“What, Granny, she has no fortune?” Claire’s friend joked at the ongoing silence.
Madame Chu looked up at Claire. “No, she has too much.” Her sharp black eyes, almost enclosed by folds of skin, examined Claire as if she’d just discovered an exotic new creature.
“Too much fortune?” Claire’s friend laughed, the stall’s single lantern casting shadows on her red cheongsam. “Lucky you.”
“No,” said Madame Chu. “Not lucky. Too much.”
Claire laughed also, feeling the old woman’s cool, dry hands holding her own.
Madame Chu bent low over Claire’s hand. “Your fortune goes on and on,” she said, speaking slowly. “Your time of death ha
s come and gone. A dark one filled you with lightning, and now you live a walking death.”
Claire quit laughing. “What?”
“Granny,” said Claire’s friend, frowning. “You are the best fortune-teller, I told her. Don’t make me into a liar. Tell her the truth, and stop your nonsense.”
Claire swallowed hard and wished she had a drink. Right after this, they would go to Samasan’s bar. Absolutely. She’d paid up her tab and should be welcome again. Samasan never held a grudge.
Madame Chu’s black beetle eyes regarded Claire over their hands.
“What else do you see?” Claire said offhandedly, as if she didn’t care.
“I see a girl, marked—”The old woman touched her cheekbone. “Like a red lily flower.”
Claire sat very still, her heart starting to beat faster. “She’s dead,” she said lightly. All of them died, sooner or later. Daughter after daughter after daughter.
“No.” Madame Chu’s eyes burned like coals. “She will kill you at last. The marked girl brings you death.”
“Come on, Claire.” Her friend sighed. “She’s having an off night. We’ll come back some other time, okay?”
Claire pulled her hand back and stood up, looking hard at Madame Chu. “Yeah,” she said, throwing some money down. “It’s all nonsense.”
Madame Chu shook her head sadly, as if Claire were already dead.
Because of a funeral, a lot of the streets in the Quarter were blocked. After several frustrating minutes of circling blocks, I asked Sylvie to just drop me off and I would walk the rest of the way.
“You sure?” Sylvie asked.
“Yeah—you’ll never get through. And I’m only four short blocks away from here.”
“Okay, then. I’ll see you at school tomorrow. Friday, yay.”
“Yeah, okay.” I opened my car door and started to get out. “Thanks a lot for bringing me along today. I had a great time.”
“I’m so glad we ran into you,” said Sylvie, and Claude nodded.