by Sally Green
“If you could control that Gift it would be pretty handy,” I tell her.
I turn to look around me. Greatorex is standing now, holding her hands up in defeat. She says, “OK. You win, Nathan. No more.” She looks at the groaning bodies on the ground, saying, “Though I still think they’ve improved.”
“Yeah, against anyone normal they’d be lethal.”
The voice comes from the trees and I look over and Nesbitt is there, grinning at me.
Blood Lust
The beautiful blonde Black Witch lights her cigarette and then throws the lighter to me. It’s good to have a cigarette now and again, especially one of hers. The smoke I inhale is deliciously thick, with the flavor of blueberries, and I blow out a long plume of heavy violet smoke and watch it hover above my head and fade to nothing. I didn’t use to trust Van enough to smoke her stuff, but these are no stronger than tobacco and taste better.
Van says, “I believe you attacked a group of Hunters, Nathan.”
“They’re the enemy. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?”
“You’re supposed to follow orders. There were no orders to attack.”
“I stumbled across them. Seemed like a good opportunity. I didn’t have time to get permission.”
“You know you wouldn’t have got permission if you’d sought it.”
We’re sitting in the center of the new Camp Three with Nesbitt, Gabriel, and Greatorex. Van’s an expert at potions and I assume she’s here to mix up a truth potion for Donna, though so far there’s been no mention of that and the conversation is more on me.
Van continues. “You risk your life and the lives of others for a few Hunters. Your attacks do little but satisfy your lust for blood.”
“Nothing’ll satisfy that,” Nesbitt mutters from behind.
“I took a risk and it paid off.”
“We’d rather you didn’t take the risk.”
“We all risk being killed at any time. We might all be dead by this time tomorrow. If I choose to attack some of them, that’s up to me.”
Van shakes her head and looks to Gabriel. He says, “Nathan takes calculated risks and wouldn’t endanger anyone else.” And somehow it feels worse that he’s covering for me when I know he doesn’t approve of my attacks.
“Well, calculated or not,” continues Van, “if they carry on, the likelihood is that you will get killed, Nathan. And we need you for a bigger purpose.”
“Yeah?” I say. So maybe this is the real point of her visit.
“The longer the war goes on, the stronger Soul gets. He is drawing more White Witch councils from Europe under his influence. We’re still trying to recruit from all sections of the witch community, but after our defeat at Bialowieza—well, it’s hard.” She glances at me and draws heavily on her cigarette before blowing out a stream of lilac smoke. “And there’s another factor holding people back. They don’t see the point in joining the fight when they believe you’ll kill Soul in any case. Rumors are circulating that some witches have had visions of you doing that. Personally, I’m not sure if they’re visions or desperate hopes. But everyone knows that you took your father’s Gifts.”
“So it’s all down to me? Is that what you believe too, Van?”
“If you do have your father’s Gifts and can control them, then you are stronger than Soul.”
“Soul alone,” I say. “Not Soul and hundreds of Hunters.”
“Soul knows you’re the last real threat to him,” says Nesbitt. “That’s why he’s sending messages out about the amnesty. Not that anyone believes he’d stick to his promises.”
“What amnesty?” I ask.
Nesbitt grins. “You haven’t heard? Anyone would think you’ve been living under a stone, mate.”
Van says, “Two weeks ago, Soul announced an amnesty for everyone in the Alliance and that all Alliance prisoners will be released—if we hand you over to him.”
“It’s a tempting offer,” Nesbitt adds. “But I’ve told everyone that if they give you up I’ll never speak to them again. That seems to have deterred them so far.”
There was a time, years ago, when Celia wouldn’t have thought twice about killing me or letting me die, but now I know she’d never do that. There was also a time when Nesbitt’s comment would have annoyed me. Now I blow smoke rings.
One of the trainees mutters something about the conditions the prisoners are kept in. I realize then that all the trainees are standing round, listening in. I wonder how many of them would like to hand me over in exchange for an amnesty.
Nesbitt has heard the comment too and he looks over at the trainees and then says loud enough for all to hear, “Course you could give yourself up to Soul, Nathan. I know you’d love to help the prisoners, alleviate their suffering.”
I grind my cigarette butt into the ground, saying, “It wouldn’t alleviate anything.” Maybe the prisoners would be released, but I doubt it, and the fact of Soul being in power would mean others would suffer. He’ll never stop persecuting Black Witches or anyone who objects to his hold on power.
I can imagine the prisoners in the cells below the Council building, some in the same cell where I was held once, before I was tattooed. I was left in complete darkness, chained to the wall. I feel for any Black Witches among the prisoners—they’ll suffer most being kept inside at night—but I know that giving myself up won’t stop Soul’s cruelty.
Van stands and says, “Walk with me, Nathan. I don’t think we need an audience for this.”
I get up and she takes my arm in hers and we stroll away from camp. Gabriel and Nesbitt follow close behind.
“Soul wants you, Nathan. But I believe he’d rather have you alive than dead. The Council kept you in a cage and trained you to kill your father. As a plan, that was twisted enough, but I think Soul is even more ambitious now. I think he wants to turn you into his private assassin, to kill whomever he wishes.”
“Are people having visions about that too?”
“Not as far as I know. But it fits with his plan to control witches around the world. He’d love you to be his henchman. I’ve never met Soul, of course, but Celia knows him and you have met him too, I understand. Would he want that?”
My gut instinct says yes. I tell Van, “He wanted to give me three gifts on my seventeenth birthday. I always thought that was odd. Like he was making it personal.”
“Yes, I think it is personal to him. I don’t think he needs you but he wants you. Partly ego, partly”—she shrugs—“obsession. You got away from him and he wants you back. But most of all he wants power. And he thinks having you will symbolize his strength.”
“Good job he hasn’t got me then.”
“Exactly. But, unlike Soul, the Alliance is weak and vulnerable. Celia is working hard to keep morale up and training the few recruits we have, but for the time being our first priority is to keep safe. Keep our heads down. Not attack the Hunters. And not risk losing you. We need you, Nathan. If you die, the Alliance will be broken. You can’t risk your life going after small groups of Hunters; that isn’t the way to defeat Soul.” Van stops and stares at me. “Though I sense that isn’t your top priority at the moment.”
I shrug.
She persists. “You’re searching for Annalise?”
“What do you think? Because of her my father is dead. Because of her half the Alliance is dead.”
“What will you do if you find her?” Van asks.
I snort a laugh. “You mean, will I kill her quick or slow? I’m favoring quick at the moment but I’ll have to see.”
Van takes a deep breath and pulls her cigarette case out of her jacket, offers me one and takes one herself. We smoke in silence for a minute before she asks, “Are you able to use any of the Gifts your father had?”
“You know, it’s bad manners to ask a White Witch about their Gifts and I am half White, Van.”
/> She blows smoke in my face and says, “And I seem to lose my manners completely around you, Nathan.”
For some reason that makes me smile. “I’m working on them. My Gifts, I mean, not my manners.”
She looks like she’s suppressing a grin and says, “With what results?”
“I can go invisible—that’s working the best—and I can kill with lightning. I can breathe fire.” And to demonstrate I blow out a small smoke ring without the help of a cigarette.
“And controlling time?”
“I’m working on it but it’s hard. But, you know, the smoke rings aren’t that easy either.”
That actually does make her smile and then she blows a huge smoke ring and series of smaller ones to me.
I’m still not sure where this is all leading. “Do you believe the visions of me killing Soul, Van?”
“I don’t need to believe in visions when I’ve got something better, something tangible that will enable you to kill Soul and will allow the Alliance to win.” She pauses for a long drag on her cigarette and then continues. “Even with all your father’s Gifts, you’ll still be vulnerable. His own death must show you that. More important than mastering his Gifts, you need protection. You need something that will make you invulnerable, something that will keep you safe. You need the Vardian amulet.”
“OK. I admit I’ve no idea what that is.”
“It’s an ancient and very powerful item. Believed to date back to the earliest days of witchcraft. All amulets protect those who hold them, but this one was something unique. It was created by a Black Witch called Vardia. Times were different then and Blacks and Whites lived together.” Van smiles, almost as if she can’t believe it herself. “Vardia fell in love with a powerful man, Linus, a prince, some say, but he was also a White Witch. He had little magical power, though, and he wanted Vardia’s protection. He told her he loved her and she created the amulet to protect him. He won many battles with the amulet pressed against his skin over his heart. He fought those stronger than himself but he was never hurt. He became more and more powerful. Linus was grateful to Vardia but he didn’t truly love her and knew he never could. Eventually he grew tired of his deception and told Vardia the truth: that he didn’t love her. He sent her away. But, despite his betrayal, Vardia still loved him and so, before she left, in desperation she ripped the amulet in two and gave Linus half, keeping half herself, saying that when he wanted her protection she would return, that he’d be safe when they and the amulet were reunited. But Linus never asked her to return and he was killed in the next battle he fought.”
Of course I have once seen half an amulet. It wasn’t a metal or jeweled ornament as I would have expected but a piece of worn, old parchment with strange writing on it laid out in a series of circles—well, semicircles because the parchment was ripped in half.
“The half of the amulet that Gabriel gave you?” I say. “That’s one of the pieces?”
“Yes.”
“But not much use without the other half.”
“No. However, many years ago I learned who had the other half and since then I’ve been searching for that person. A witch called Ledger.”
“And now you’ve found him? Her?”
“Yes.”
“And have you got the other half of the amulet?”
“It’s not quite as simple as that. But I do believe the way to beat Soul is by using the amulet. If you have it you’ll be protected as Linus was. You’ll be indestructible.”
“If the amulet is ripped in half, how do you know it’ll work? How do you even know these pieces are part of the Vardian amulet? It might all be a stupid old story anyway.”
Van’s blue eyes seem to explode with sapphire sparks as she says, “There are no guarantees, but I think Ledger will know how to make it work. She’s a powerful witch. Possibly the most powerful ever.”
“More powerful than my father?”
Van takes my arm again and says, “Ledger is very different from your father. She’s unusual for a Black Witch and most people haven’t even heard of her. She’s extremely private, though I was honored to meet her a few days ago. She has many Gifts and a vast knowledge of magic. She may be able to help you access your father’s Gifts as well as find how to make the amulet work.”
“But why would she help me? And I can’t imagine she’s going to hand her half of the amulet over for nothing, if at all.”
“She might be persuaded. I told her about you and she was extremely interested in meeting you.”
I look at Van. She’s as cool and sophisticated as always. The scars from her battle with Mercury are all but faded. She’s not in one of the pastel-colored suits she used to wear but dark casual trousers, jumper, and winter jacket. And she’s as hard to read as ever. I trust her, but I know she always has her own agenda.
“Why would Ledger want to meet me?”
“You’ll have to go and see her to find out.”
“You say I’m taking risks; if she’s so powerful, how do you know she won’t just take Gabriel’s half of the amulet and kill me?”
Van smiles faintly. “I don’t think murder is her style. And anyway I already gave it to her.”
“What?”
“It was a sign of good faith. Ledger will know how to make the amulet whole. She said she will do it for the right person. We simply have to hope that you are that person, Nathan.”
Dreading You
Van goes back to camp with Nesbitt, and me and Gabriel go for a run. I ask him, “Are you bothered about Van giving away your half of the amulet?”
“Of course not. I gave it to her in exchange for helping me, for saving my life. It’s hers to do with as she wants. And I told you back then, Nathan, I’m not interested in those things anymore. I never was particularly to start with.”
“And do you think I should go for the amulet?”
“I’m thinking about that.”
So am I. Ledger sounds interesting and so does the amulet but if I’m doing that I’m not looking for Annalise. But I’m beginning to realize—or rather I’m having to face up to what I’ve known for weeks now—that Annalise has escaped from here. She could be anywhere by now.
We run for a couple of hours and then head back into camp. Greatorex, Van, and Nesbitt are sitting with Donna and we go over to join them. Nesbitt is supporting Donna, who looks like she’s going to pass out.
On the ground is one of Van’s small stone bowls with dregs of liquid in it. Truth potion, I guess.
Van looks at me and then back to Donna and asks, “Why do you want to join the Alliance?”
“I can do good if I join.” Donna’s voice is slurred, like she’s drunk.
“What sort of good?”
“Kill the bad guys.”
“Who are the bad guys?”
“The evil ones, the bad guys.”
“But who? Name one.”
“Bad guys.” Donna looks like she’s going to sleep.
Van persists. “Are the Hunters bad?”
“They kill the Alliance.”
“Yes, but are the Hunters bad?”
“They tied me up and starved me and gagged me.” Donna seems to focus on me for a second or two and says, “He killed them.”
“Do you know the name of this person?” Van points at me.
“Nathan. Also known as Freddie.”
Van raises her eyebrows and looks at me. “Freddie?”
I nod.
“Is Nathan a bad guy?”
“He killed the Hunters.”
“So does that make him good or bad?”
“Everyone says he’s bad.”
“What do you say?”
“He let me have all the chocolate.”
Van blows her cheeks out. She looks tired. “Are you a spy?”
“No.”
“Are you an assassin?”
“I’d like to kill the bad guys.”
“Who are the bad guys?”
“The evil ones, the bad guys.”
I get the feeling this is not the first time the questioning has gone round in circles and I leave them to it.
* * *
Later I ask Van how it went. She shakes her head. “Difficult. To work best, any potion has to be tailored specifically to the individual. The one I used was a general truth potion, but even so everything she said should have been the truth.”
“So? What’s the verdict?”
“I don’t like the fact that her answers were always the same. They were honest but not open. But it’s hard to judge. I’ll need to make a potion specifically for her.”
Van offers me a cigarette and I accept it. I inhale the smoke and breathe out. I’m surprised that the cigarettes seem to be ordinary fain ones.
“American,” Van says, as if reading my thoughts.
“I don’t suppose you’ve got any of that other potion, the one that helped me sleep.”
Van hesitates but asks, “Bad dreams?”
I shrug. “They’re just dreams.” I wonder if I should tell her about my vision. Maybe another time.
“I’ve got this.” She reaches into her jacket and takes out a few small pieces of paper. Or, rather, pieces of paper folded over several times to make them small. She selects three. “It’s strong. Only one a night or you’ll never wake up.” She holds them over my outstretched palm. “You wouldn’t be tempted to take all of them at once, would you, Nathan?”
I look into the blue of her eyes. I tell her, “Most days I’m tempted.”
I don’t tell her that the thought that stops me is of Annalise being out there somewhere, alive and free, and if she was alive and I was dead then the injustice of it would consume me in flames. Only when she’s dead will I give up.