We reappear in front of a hill of rust-red stone. Around it there’s nothing for miles except some scrub brush. Despite this, Sophie smiles from ear-to-ear, which is unsettling given how stoic she usually is. She motions to a hole in the side of the hill. “It’s in there.”
We both use Glow in the Dark spells to light our way inside the cave. We get about a hundred feet when I see the first crude drawings along the walls. These depict a group of people, who have the figure of women. In another drawing lightning seems to come from the hands of these women, driving animals away. Farther down the cave, a third drawing shows the women standing over other people, who are kneeling before them.
“You see what this means? We were once worshipped like gods by the mortals.”
“Then why aren’t they still worshipping us?”
“Because of Glenda. She wanted to control not just us, but all magic. That’s why she made the coven.”
I say nothing to this, not quite ready to believe Sophie’s theories about Glenda and the coven. I’ve seen that Glenda has power beyond what she usually shows—my right arm can attest to that—but I’ve also seen how tender and caring she can be. I remember what Hisae told me back in Florence, that Glenda isn’t a monster, that what she’s done, she’s done for the greater good. I’m just as skeptical about this as I am of Sophie.
We continue along the cave, more drawings scattered at random intervals. These are far less crude depictions of faces—all women’s faces. They glow with blue light as we get near them, as if they’re alive. I lean closer to one and gasp as I recognize Hisae’s face. “What—”
“That’s a record of Hisae’s birth. We’re all here: you, me, Agnes, Mama, and even Glenda. Every time one of us was born, her face was drawn on the wall to record it.”
I continue to study Hisae’s face. This isn’t Hisae as a baby or even a little girl; it’s Hisae like I saw her in Florence. “But if that’s a record of her birth, why is she an adult?”
“Because we weren’t birthed like mortals. We sprang fully formed, like Athena.”
“Who?”
“A Greek goddess. Don’t you remember the Argonautica?”
“Vaguely.”
Sophie clucks her tongue; if she had her baton she would probably hit me with it like when she was trying to teach me the language of magic. “Come. What you really need to see is at the end.”
We continue to pass the record of faces. Sophie is right that we’re all here, including me. My face is a bit chubby and dotted with pimples, which means I was born a teenager. I think again of what Hisae said about my young heart; maybe that explains it—I was born as the baby of the coven, the runt of the litter. Aggie’s isn’t much older; neither is Sophie’s. Mama’s is almost unrecognizable because she’s so much younger than I ever remember her, a young woman in her late twenties, though with the same stern eyes. As for Glenda’s, I caught a glimpse of it when she broke my arm; hers is of a woman also in her late twenties with long black hair and furious eyes that seem to scream at me to turn back.
The cave ends abruptly in a solid wall. There are symbols carved into the stone, which I recognize as magic runes. “This is it?”
“No. This is the door.”
“How do you open it?”
“We can’t. Not yet.” She gestures to the bottom right of the wall, where a portion of the rock has been broken away. “Glenda took the last rune. Unless I find out what it is, I can’t open the door.”
“So how do you know this is the birthplace of magic? How do you know there’s not just a bunch of bat guano back there?”
“What else do you think Glenda would go to such lengths to protect?”
“Are you sure Glenda did it?”
“Who else would?”
“Maybe it was an earthquake.”
“An earthquake that destroyed just one rune?”
This does seem pretty farfetched. “Well, fine, let’s say you’re right: what do we do now?”
“We go to Glenda and confront her.” Sophie lays a hand on my shoulder. “Together we can overpower her.”
I think of Glenda in her true form again and have my doubts whether two witches would be enough to do it. “And then what?”
“We force her to give us the rune and then we open the door.”
“And if we find the birthplace of magic, what are you going to do with it?”
“We’ll give birth to a new coven. A coven that will reclaim our rightful place.”
I think back to the first drawings we saw. “You mean to enslave the mortals?”
“Why not? The mortals are inferior to us. They should worship us instead of their feeble, invisible gods.”
“What if the rest of the coven doesn’t want to go along with this? You’re going to kill them? Hisae, Tabitha, Sabrina, Agnes. You’ll just kill them all?”
“If we must.”
“They’re our sisters. Our sisters in magic.”
“If they resist us then they’re traitors to magic. And so are you if you refuse to help me.”
A gleam of madness enters Sophie’s eyes. She’s spent the better part of two centuries looking for the birthplace of magic. She’s given everything, including her life, to find it. Now that she’s so close, she isn’t about to let anyone stand in her way now.
Yet I have to stand in her way. Glenda was right about at least one thing: a war between witches, between the old coven and the new coven, would be disastrous for the mortal world. I think of my daughter, just an innocent teenager somewhere in France. What would happen to her under Sophie’s new order?
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I can’t let you—”
That’s as far as I get before Sophie lunges at me. She hurls me against a wall hard enough that I hear bones snap. My head rings from what’s probably the beginning of a nasty concussion. I groan, my vision turning red as blood drips into my eyes.
Sophie stands over me, her body glowing with the same white light as Glenda’s did when she broke my arm. Sophie’s eyes glow with blue light, which somehow seems to radiate hatred. “I’ve tried to be patient with you, Sylvia. Now I’m telling you: you will help me destroy Glenda or you will die—you and your daughter.”
“Don’t you dare touch her.”
“You’re such a waste,” Sophie says with revulsion. “You could be as powerful as Glenda if you wanted to be, if you ever stopped being a child. If you ever grew up and realized these mortals are nothing more than our playthings.”
“They aren’t,” I say, thinking of all the mortals I’ve cared about over the years from Henri to Rachel to Alejandro to Jaida. “They’re magical too.”
Sophie shakes her head. “I had hoped you would be reasonable. Now I see that once again you’ll have to be taught your lesson the hard way.” Her smile is sickening as she adds, “Maybe when she gets to the afterlife, your daughter can say hello to Henri for you.”
“No!” As I lunge at Sophie, my body is glowing white like hers, like when I first kissed Henri so long ago.
I manage to catch Sophie by surprise and fling her into the wall with the runes on it. The stone cracks but doesn’t shatter. Before Sophie can recover, I launch a fireball at her. This doesn’t have any effect on her. She counters with a Static Charge that sends me flying backwards. I land on my rear, but quickly get to my feet. I’m fighting for not just my life, but my daughter’s as well.
Before Sophie can hit me again, I use a Pile Driver spell to bring part of the ceiling down on her. The chunks of rock don’t hurt her, but they distract her enough for me to lunge at her again. This time instead of throwing her against a wall, I hold on to her. She tries to break my grasp, but I refuse to let her go.
I’m not sure what exactly is happening to me, but I can feel my power growing stronger by the moment, as if I’m feeding off of Sophie. The white glow around my body becomes so intense I can’t see anything. I can only feel that I’m still holding on to Sophie and that my entire body is vibrating. I hear the same music in my
ears that I first heard when I gained my powers, when I kissed Henri. Only now the music is deafening.
I fix Henri’s image in my mind, certain that I’m going to see him soon enough in the afterlife. Maybe there we can finally be happy.
I feel the explosion and I feel myself flying through the air.
When I wake up, I’m staring up at a blue sky. For a moment I think it must be the afterlife, but then I sit up and see the rust-red Mexican desert around me. I’m still wearing the same clothes as when I vanished to Tabla Diabla, complete with Colt’s revolver in my jacket. Touching my face, I don’t feel any cuts.
Rising to my feet, I see the smoking crater where the cave used to be. The birthplace of magic is gone—and so is Sophie.
Chapter 33
I try to vanish myself back to the town where I left Smokey only to find that my magic is gone. I’ve finally got my wish and become mortal. With a sigh, I turn away from the crater and limp north, back to Texas.
The heat of the desert soon becomes unbearable. I take off my jacket, but this doesn’t help much. What I really want is a nice, cool glass of water. The thought of water draining down my parched throat keeps me staggering forward for hours.
The afternoon sun beats down on me, the heat rising to well over a hundred degrees. There hasn’t been a river, stream, or even a cactus anywhere for miles. There’s nothing in this wasteland except for me. The thought gradually pops into my head that maybe this is my afterlife. Maybe this is what the Christians would describe as Hell. For my lifetime of sins, I’m doomed to wander this burning wasteland, alone. I’ll never see Henri or my sisters or Mama or my daughter or anyone else I love.
This thought is enough to bring me to my knees. I drop onto the ground, face first. What point is there in going on? I’m dead and this is my punishment. I might as well stay here until the vultures pick me clean—if any vultures bother coming by here.
I’m only vaguely aware of someone rolling me over onto my back. The water I’ve longed for pours down my throat. I blink my eyes and see a young woman with black hair whose skin seems to be glowing white. Her teeth are equally white when she smiles at me. It’s an old woman’s voice that comes from her throat. “Sorry to be late, but you handled things splendidly,” Glenda says.
“Sophie. She’s dead?”
“Let’s hope so.”
I want to refute this, but my mouth is still too dry. Sophie may have tried to kill me, but I can’t forget her sitting beside my bed, teaching me to control my magic. In her way, she loved me. I manage the strength to shake my head. “My sister.”
Glenda nods at this. “I know. But you had to kill her. There was no choice.”
“No.”
“She was out of control with her delusions of grandeur.” Glenda helps me sit up. “I always wondered in the end which side you would choose. You chose well.”
I find the strength to snort at this. I didn’t choose Glenda’s side or the coven’s side. I chose the side that would save my daughter, Aggie, and the other people I care about. “I can’t vanish,” I tell her.
“You’ve just overexerted yourself. It’ll come back in time.”
“Right.”
“Are you strong enough to travel?”
I consider this for a moment. Thanks to the water Glenda gave me—at least I hope it was just water—I feel strong enough to stand on my own again. I get to my feet, wobbling a moment before steadying myself. “Let’s go.”
Glenda takes my hand and in a flash I’m back in Edinburgh, in my old bedroom. She helps me over to the bed, but I insist on taking off my boots myself. The blankets are a bit dusty, but the bed feels soothing after lying in that desert. “My horse,” I say.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it. You just rest.”
Before Glenda can go, I reach out for her hand. “Don’t tell Agnes.”
“I won’t. She already thinks Sophie is dead.”
“Not that. Don’t tell her I’m here.”
Glenda sits down beside me on the bed, brushing back my hair the way Alejandro used to do. She isn’t about to kiss me. “Sylvia, you have to stop running from this. Agnes will forgive you. She loves you.”
I’m not worried about Aggie forgiving me. What I’m most worried about is whether or not she’ll forgive Alejandro. I don’t want to destroy their marriage, their family. They’ve been married now for nearly forty years; they have grandchildren. “I’ll tell her. When I’m ready.”
“Just don’t wait too long.”
“Thank you,” I say as Glenda stands up and readies herself to vanish.
“I’m the one who should be thanking you. The coven owes you a debt.”
“If you really want to repay me, then let me go. I don’t want to kill monsters anymore.”
“I understand. In time you might feel differently. Until then, I hope we can be friends. I’m sure the same would apply to Hisae and some of the others.”
“Sure.”
“Good. I’ll be back later to check on you. When you’re feeling better, we’ll have a drink.”
“You’re buying.”
“Of course.” Glenda winks to me and then she’s gone. I lean back against my pillows and then finally fall asleep.
***
I stay in Edinburgh for the next six months. Over that time, I wait for my magic to return. Given the way it’s come back the previous two times, I figure I should go find a handsome boy to kiss. Glenda continues to assure me that it’s just a matter of time before it returns. As on Frau Braun’s farm, I start to hope that it won’t, that I’ll finally be able to live a real life.
There’s nothing dramatic when it finally does come back. Glenda and I are drinking at my table, something we’ve taken to doing almost nightly as I recover. I feel the tingling in my foot and I know that it’s coming back. This tingling continues for two days, spreading to the rest of my body. I wait for an explosion or for my chamber pot to turn into a bird and fly away. Nothing like that happens.
“Of course not,” Glenda says. “You’re an adult this time. Your magic isn’t unstable.”
“Oh.”
Once the tingling has stopped and I can use my magic again, Glenda says, “I left your horse with the blacksmith in that town where you were. I told him you’d be back for it in a few months.”
“Aren’t you going to try and convince me to stay and rejoin the coven?”
“No. I think you’ve done enough—for now.”
We share one last drink at my table. “Did you really have the key to the birthplace of magic?” I ask her.
“Yes.”
“Did you ever go inside?”
“We were all inside there at one point.”
“What was it like?”
Glenda considers this for a long time. She’s probably the only one left who can still remember that far back. “It was like being born again.”
I smile slightly at this. That’s the kind of cryptic answer I would expect from Glenda or Hisae. “Can I ask you something else?”
“Go ahead.”
“I saw the pictures on the wall. Sophie said those were records of when we were born.”
“And you want to know about yours?”
“Yes. Why was I younger than the others?”
Glenda shrugs at this. “All of us heard it at a different time.”
“Heard what?”
“The music. That’s what led us there. I was nursing my daughter when I heard it. I knew I had to follow it.”
“You had a daughter?”
“Oh yes. We were all mortals once. Those of us who heard the music, we were able to become something else.”
I close my eyes, trying to see myself as a teenager in some ancient village. But I can’t. There are no memories left from back then. There’s nothing left of that young girl who wanted to become a witch. Would she have made the same choice if she knew how things would turn out?
I don’t realize I’m crying until Glenda puts a hand on my sh
oulder. I wipe at the tears with my napkin. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“I shouldn’t have told you.” Glenda sighs and again I see how truly ancient she is for just a moment. “That’s why you and Agnes wanted a new life, why they all did eventually. It’s such a burden to remember all of those people we left behind.”
“How do you live with it? By giving yourself to the coven?”
“Yes. I have forty-seven girls to look after. You’re not the only one who needs me.”
“What about Hisae? Or Regina? Do they need you?”
“Sometimes. We all have bad days.”
The obvious question is who Glenda goes to on her bad days. Maybe that’s why she’s been spending so much time drinking with me. Maybe even an ancient witch needs a friend. “Thank you for being here for mine.”
“It’s all right. I told your mother I would look after you if she died.”
We toast Mama and then I shake Glenda’s hand. “Don’t be a stranger,” Glenda whispers into my ear.
“I won’t.”
I go out to the alley and vanish. As Glenda said, the blacksmith in town has my horse. I pay him for taking care of the animal. Then Smokey and I ride from town, back onto the range.
***
It’s almost nine years before I see Glenda again. I’m in California, wading in the middle of a stream with a dish to search for gold. I have more than enough gold back in Edinburgh, but it seemed like a new challenge when I first heard about it in Kansas. Smokey managed to make it all the way here before she finally died, collapsing in her stall that first night. I cried like little David did when his Smokey died. Then I used an Ashes to Ashes spell to destroy her body. The ashes I scattered in the river to be carried away.
Prospecting isn’t as much fun as I thought it might be. It’s the kind of repetitious, patient activity that Sophie or even Aggie would be better at. I start thinking about leaving this place after the first week. One of my fellow prospectors has said there’s work to be had for the railroads, constructing new lines out here in California. That seems like something I might enjoy more. Really I’d rather just go back to Texas, but I’ve stayed away from there since supporting Mexico in their brief war against the Americans. It wasn’t that I really believed the Mexicans could win; I just wanted to help them avoid being completely slaughtered.
Tales of the Scarlet Knight Collection: The Call Page 117