“What are those little dogs?” Vera said. “Are those sweaters gold?”
Daisy squinted at Bikka and Umma. The fur around Bikka’s mouth looked orange, and Umma was gazing steadily at Wolfie, who was looking at the ceiling, and they were both wearing something glittery. “I wouldn’t be surprised,” Daisy told Vera, but Vera’s attention had already wandered.
“Hi,” she was saying, holding her hand out to Shar. “I’m Vera Dale; I work with Daisy.” Her eyes widened as she looked at Shar. “Oh! Professor Summer! I didn’t even recognize you. Your hair is practically glowing. Have you been using that herbal tea rinse I recommended?” Before Shar could say anything, Vera leaned over her to see Abby. “And it is so nice to meet you; you are such a lovely, lovely girl.”
“She is lovely,” Daisy said. “Her name is Abby.”
“So let me ask you, Abby,” Vera said. “Do you take vitamins?” She took a sip from her cup, and Daisy waited for her reaction.
“This is so yummy.” Vera drained her cup.
If you think it’s good now, wait till your dog starts talking to you.
“Mina gave me a bottle as I came in,” Vera whispered, pulling a ceramic bottle out of her bag. “Is it the same stuff?”
“Yep,” Daisy said.
Vera uncorked her bottle and poured more into her cup. Daisy bent down to pet Squash, who opened one eye.
“Be kind,” Daisy whispered. “Don’t mention the Snausages.”
Squash barked, “Nice shoes!”
“Oh my god!” Vera gasped, and looked at Daisy, tears of amazement in her eyes. “Squash just told me she likes my shoes.”
“Sweet dog,” Abby said, but Shar was staring at the table behind them.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered to Shar.
“We drank the tonic and got our powers,” Shar whispered back, nodding her head to the cups on the table. “I’m torn. I think it’s a bad idea to drink anything that Kammani makes, but…”
“We can use all the power we can get,” Daisy finished. She picked up two of the glasses and gave one to Shar and one to Abby and then got one for herself. “I vote we drink.”
Shar looked into the glass, nodded, and knocked some of it back, coughing a little as she swallowed. “This is not what we drank Thursday.”
Daisy tasted it and the impact hit her hard. It was at least twice as potent as it had been on Thursday, and where it had been delicious before, now it was irresistible. Power, Daisy thought, and drank it down, almost choking at the end when Kammani appeared to stand before the altar. She wore white linen heavily embroidered in gold and beads, draped and twisted over her perfect body, tied with a golden jeweled belt with a wicked-looking knife stuck in it, and she looked taller than she had last week, more exotic, probably because of her headdress, a wreath of gold leaves with stars just above that and then—overkill, party of one—a gold sun at the back of her head with seven flower shapes, fanning out on top, ending in gold ribbons that fell over her ears. It looked to Daisy like a hat you’d wear at a New Year’s Eve party, and then only after you’d had at least six drinks.
Abby leaned over Daisy and said to Shar, “Thin. Pretty. Big tits. Your basic nightmare,” and Daisy said, “Huh?” and Shar said, “When Harry Met Sally,” and laughed, but then Sam followed Kammani out to the altar, and Shar’s smile faded fast. He was dressed in jeans and a chambray shirt, and looked as close to ordinary as a god following a goddess in a gold party hat could, except that there was a faint glow to him.
“Look at Sam,” Daisy whispered to Shar, staring at him. “Does he look—” She broke off as she saw Shar, tipping back the last of her drink.
Shar had a blue outline. Very faint, but it was there.
“Uh,” Daisy said, and looked to her other side, at Abby, who had an amber glow as she put her empty cup on the floor.
Kammani walked up to the altar as Daisy looked at Gen and Bun. No glow there but a wispy haze as they moved, like a very faint trail of smoke, Gen’s yellow and Bun’s orange. Poor Bun. Nobody looks good in orange, Daisy thought, and looked at Vera, who lifted her cup to drink and left a green trail, like a special effect in a movie.
Beyond her sat Mina in a purplish smoky shadow, a definite shadow that moved with her. Permanent darkness, Daisy thought.
“IT BEGINS,” Kammani said, and Daisy felt a sudden urge to lean forward.
Kammani said something in a language Daisy couldn’t understand, but she could see color as Kammani moved, too, a pale, glittery aura, and she could feel Kammani’s words floating out and folding around her like a blanket, warm and comforting and familiar.
She forced her eyes open and thought, This isn’t right, and the comfort left her, replaced by cold suspicion.
The torches flickered, and Kammani looked at Gen. “COME.”
Gen got up and crossed over to the center of the steps and went up to meet Kammani, who raised her hands over Gen’s head, holding something that glittered. Gen seemed to expand, her shoulders going back and her chin lifting, and then Kammani fastened a necklace around her neck—more of a collar, Daisy thought—and then cupped her hands over Gen’s head. Daisy saw a flash of yellow light, and Gen said, “Oh!” and stumbled back, and Daisy said, “What the hell was that?”
Kammani’s eyes flashed at Daisy, and Daisy could feel her rage as their eyes locked. For a moment, Daisy wanted to lower her head in submission, but she fought it as Gen shuddered and then came down the steps, putting her hand up to feel her new jewelry, which looked like a beaded dog collar to Daisy, gold with blue and red-orange beads.
“This is what they did four thousand years ago here,” Shar whispered. “This is an investiture.” She was watching Sam, who was watching her. He looked troubled, but Daisy couldn’t tell if it was because of what was happening or because Shar was so tense.
She’s right to be tense, Daisy thought, and looked at Abby, pale beside her. This is bad news.
She cast a glance at the door, suddenly feeling Noah’s absence, and looked down at her watch; it was only eight past seven. He was probably just running late.
Shar put her cup on the floor as Kammani summoned Bun, and Bun approached as Gen had. As Kammani put a beaded collar around Bun’s neck, Shar said, “Look.”
“What?” Daisy said.
“There’s an orange glow—”
Kammani had placed her hands above Bun’s head, and now there was a flash of orange light and Bun squeaked. Daisy drew in her breath: that orange light had come from Bun rather than Kammani, and that wasn’t right. The shocks or whatever that was had to be coming from Kammani. It didn’t make any sense otherwise.
Bun felt her collar and squealed, “This is so cool!” and walked down the steps to Gen to show her the new bling.
Kammani looked at Abby, the glittery glow around her stronger now, shifting with small streaks of red and orange, and said, “COME,” and Daisy felt the pull just sitting beside Abby as Shar drew in her breath.
For one moment they were motionless, and then, as if they were one person, they all leaned back.
Kammani looked startled, her eyes moving from Abby to Daisy to Shar in growing awareness, and then after a beat she set her jaw and moved on to nod at Vera, who stood immediately and walked to the altar, trailing faint green light, a little unsteady on her feet. Daisy reached over Shar and picked up the ceramic bottle on Vera’s seat.
It was empty.
Kammani gave Vera her collar and put her hands over Vera’s head. The light flashed, green this time, and Vera cried out and stumbled down the steps, staggering into the middle of the circle, her hand over her heart, struggling for her breath.
“Oh … oh…” She blinked twice, and then the faint greenish glow around her flickered and died and she collapsed.
Time stopped, and then, like the moment of impact in a car crash, everything rushed together. Sam strode forward and leaned over Vera, Kammani rushed down the steps, Mina was holding one hand behind her back, the dogs barked, Bun and G
en covered their dogs’ eyes, and Daisy and Shar and Abby went to Vera as Kammani put her hand over Vera’s heart.
Daisy moved forward to kneel at Vera’s side and saw her eyes staring lifelessly up at the stone ceiling.
“RISE,” Kammani whispered, bending low, light pulsing under her hands. “RISE!”
“Vera,” Daisy said, her voice breaking, and Shar said quietly from behind her, “I called 911.”
Sam straightened, looking calm but serious. “She has gone to Ereshkigal,” he told Daisy, his voice kind. “She is in the Netherworld now.”
“CPR!” Daisy cried out. “Does anyone know how to do CPR?”
“Clear out!”
Daisy turned as Noah pushed between Bun and Gen to get to Vera. He put his ear to her mouth for a second and then started doing chest compressions.
Daisy looked around, helpless. Gen and Bun stood hugging their dogs, their eyes wide, but Mina stared down, a slight smile on her face, and Daisy felt fury sweep over her. She wanted to rush Mina, overpower her, knock her down. Around her, wind started to blow, she could see it now, a reddish-orange wind, a fiery trail that swirled around them, but then there was warmth on either side of her as Shar and Abby drew close. Daisy looked away from Mina—not worth it, not worth it—and the wind calmed and the air cleared as she focused on Kammani, who stood beside Noah, her face ashen.
“What did you do?” Daisy said, breaking away from Shar and Abby to advance on her.
Kammani looked up at Daisy. “I did nothing.”
“Come on,” Noah urged Vera. He leaned down and put his ear to Vera’s mouth, then cursed and continued chest compressions.
Daisy grabbed Kammani’s hand. “Shock her. Whatever you used to make the light come from her, give it back to her. Shock her.”
Kammani jerked her hand away. “I have done all I can. She is with Ereshkigal now.”
“No,” Daisy said. “Do something!“
The doors slammed open and the paramedics came in, fast, competent, and—Daisy knew—useless. Noah pulled her out of the way, and all she could do was stare as the dogs barked and the paramedics worked over Vera. Finally, they shared a grim look, and one of them reached down and closed Vera’s eyes. Noah stayed close to Daisy as the paramedics lifted Vera’s body to the stretcher. One of them wheeled Vera out and the other spoke to Kammani, but all Daisy could do was stare at the space where Vera had been and lean against Noah.
“Hey,” he said, running his hand over her shoulder, down her arm. “You okay?”
“No,” she said.
The paramedic stepped away from Kammani, who stood there, looking confused and ridiculous in her costume linens and her stupid gold party hat.
A useless fucking goddess.
Daisy stalked over to her, and Sam stepped between them. Daisy scooted around him and faced Kammani, going almost nose to nose with her.
“What have you done?” Daisy yelled, her fury and panic and dread feeling like they were shooting out from her. Harsh breezes started to blow all around them, but Kammani lifted her hand and they stopped. She looked at Daisy and said, “Go.”
“You killed her,” Daisy said. “Whatever you put in that tonic, this is your fault. You killed her. You knew there were consequences, but you just did whatever the hell you wanted to anyway, and now she’s dead.”
“It was her time, Humusi,” Kammani said. “She has left us, but you are still with me and must show respect—”
“Humusi’s dead,” Daisy said, her voice brittle in her throat. “I’m Daisy, and I want no part of you.”
Kammani stared at her, ice in her eyes. Daisy felt herself weakening under Kammani’s gaze, but then she heard a howl, “Vera!” and she turned to look.
Squash scrambled behind the paramedics as they wheeled the stretcher out, and then one of them dragged Squash back in and closed the door as she howled Vera’s name again. She scratched desperately at the door, trying to dig her way back to Vera, and Bailey stood next to her, not wagging his tail or jumping, just standing quietly, like the rock he was.
“GO,” Kammani said, and Daisy stepped back from her, her mind reeling, her stomach sick.
“You don’t belong here,” she said to Kammani. She felt Noah’s hand on her shoulder and turned to look at him, his face hard and unsmiling in the flickering torchlight.
“Let’s go,” he said. She nodded, then headed toward the door to take Squash and Bailey home, away from this place of power and death, promising herself that she would never, ever come back.
When they were back in the coffeehouse kitchen, Shar dropped her bag on the counter and said, “I need a drink,” feeling guilty that she hadn’t tried to stop the investiture, and furious with Kammani for putting Vera at risk, but mostly concerned for Daisy, who looked like hell.
Abby said, “I’ll see if there’s anything in the pantry.”
Daisy sat down heavily at the table, and Noah watched her, not hovering but ready to be there if she needed anything.
Like Vera alive again, Shar thought, and went over to sit beside her. Daisy still had that warm reddish-orange glow to her, and Shar wasn’t sure if it was anger or power or—
“It was the tonic,” Daisy said, her eyes glued to the table. “I knew it was powerful and I didn’t stop her, I didn’t warn her, and then she went up there and Kammani did her light-suck thing and…” She released a long breath, looking sick.
“It wasn’t the tonic,” Shar said. “We drank it, too. It didn’t make your heart race; it made you see colors.”
Daisy looked at her and said, “I could have stopped her.”
Shar reached out to pat her shoulder and then drew her hand back. She was just not a patting person. “I think the tonic made her happy,” she said instead. “She heard Squash talk before she died.”
Wolfie barked, “Go along now,” and Shar looked back at the dogs where Bowser was curled up on his huge pillow and Wolfie was nudging Squash toward him with his nose. Squash went over to the pillow and lay down in the curve of Bowser’s big body, and Wolfie and a quiet Bailey followed, curling against Squash so that she was completely surrounded.
“You’re in our pack now,” Bowser growled, and Squash sighed, and Milton climbed on top of all of them and went to sleep.
“Do you think Vera would mind if I kept Squash?” Daisy asked.
“I think she’d love it,” Shar said.
“I have Vera’s address,” Noah said quietly, and when Daisy looked up, he said, “From the class list. I know the super in the building. I can go pick up Squash’s things, if…”
“Yes,” Shar said when Daisy just looked at him, and then Daisy nodded and he went.
Abby came out of the pantry with a basket. “Where did Noah go?”
“To get Squash’s things,” Shar said, turning away from Daisy because she didn’t know what to do for her. If only Daisy had flunked her history final—that Shar could fix.
Abby put the basket on the table. “This was all I could find.”
Shar pulled it toward her. It was full of miniature bottles of booze. Bacardi, Grey Goose, Jack Daniel’s, Absolut, amaretto, Drambuie: the breadth of choice was amazing.
Daisy craned her neck to see. “Looks like Grandma had a little drinking problem.” Abby and Shar both looked at her, and she smiled weakly and said, “Little bottles, little drinking. Ha.”
“Oh,” Abby said. “I think she was using them in recipes. There’s a notebook in there that has a bunch of them. I think she was trying to make the tonic. It makes sense. Your grandmother kept the history, Shar. My grandmother was trying to keep the tonic.” She pulled out a tiny bottle of Amaretto. “What’s your mother trying to keep, Daisy?”
“Her skin tone.” Daisy took a bottle of Bacardi from the basket. “Little bottles of booze. Boozles.”
Her voice was strained, but she was making jokes, so Shar took a bottle of Grey Goose because it was so pretty and said to Abby, “Do you have orange juice?”
Abby put a cup of
milk in the microwave and then brought juice and Diet Coke and two glasses, and Daisy and Shar poured and stirred and looked at the two little empties as the silence stretched out. Alice in Wonderland goes on a bender, Shar thought, and knocked back some of her screwdriver. It wasn’t as good as the tonic, but it still gave her a glow, probably because she never drank.
She looked down at her hands. The faint blue was gone, which was reassuring. Kind of.
“I saw goddamned colors,” Daisy said.
“It was the tonic,” Abby said. “I drank it and saw them, too.” She sounded listless. “I don’t know how I’m going to get that in our tonic. I’ll look at Bea’s notes again. She has some fairly strange ingredients in the pantry.”
“Did your mom ever say anything about your great-grandmother?” Shar asked Daisy, trying to distract her from her misery. “Your mom’s third generation; she’s probably too far from Humusi—”
“Mina’s far from Munawirtum and she has the Wortham tradition down pat,” Daisy said bitterly as she stared into her glass. “She enjoyed Vera’s death. Did you notice that?”
“The Worthams are weird as hell and always have been,” Shar said, and then remembered Noah was a Wortham. “The Wortham women always have been. The men have been wonderful.” She took another sip. She was having two drinks tonight. It would be a first for her, but this was a two-drink night if there ever was one.
“My mother never said a word about it,” Abby said, and then the microwave dinged, and she ripped open an envelope of hot chocolate mix, stirred it into the hot milk, and poured in some amaretto. It smelled like heaven.
Maybe after my second vodka, Shar thought, and said to her, “You have a mother?”
“She’s out in California,” Abby said. “Amanda Richmond, the Real Estate Goddess.” She stopped. “Oh, hell. I always thought that was just a business thing, that she called herself that. It’s on her business cards, and I never got it.”
“So you think she knows?” Shar said.
“They all know,” Daisy said. “Right when Kammani showed up, my mother dumped Bailey on me and went to New York for allergy treatments. She’s not allergic to Bailey; she’s allergic to responsibility.” She lifted her drink, took a generous gulp, and set it back on the table. “My money says they all knew.”
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