I assumed she meant her pre-blue hair days.
“Just tell me one thing,” I said. “Do you think I can really fit in?”
“I think you have the wrong idea of what a House is,” said Veruschka Ravenseal. “We don’t all sit around and watch TV all day.”
She left me standing there, staring after her.
I wondered if it were really true that the Master House had been showing interest in her, and then, if I could trust Veruschka Ravenseal? If she was a shoo-in, as it sounded like, she would know more of the twins’ mission than she was saying. They had to be here for a reason, didn’t they? Perhaps they were the two voices I had been hearing. In which case, I would need to watch my step.
The twins had had a strange symbol tattooed upon their faces. It ran from the bottom of their eyes. Shaped like a tremendous twisted thorn, it went down their faces and seemed to jump off at their chins. But it was their eyes––vacuous sucking pinwheels I could not escape.
“Well, come on, then,” said Veruschka Ravenseal.
* * *
I put the diary away. Why did it feel like everybody at the Gathering had manica langas, long sleeves? I couldn’t trust any of them. Selwyn, the twins, Pendderwenn. He would be more dangerous than ever. Perhaps Pendderwenn would try to start something; his marker had been stolen, after all, rendered obsolete. My friend and ally, Asher, was nowhere to be found. I remembered he said he was coming back. Okay. Something to look forward to. But when? I told myself. Lennox was agonizing. But Ballard... Ballard was the one it hurt me to think about... He must’ve seen that Lia and I had been chosen, but where was he now, and what was he up to? And did he even care that I was no longer going to be in Rome? Perhaps he could breathe a sigh of relief. I imagined it had to be hard for him, being my friend. I was always running around trying to find things out. My parents. What was I doing––not only here but existentially so? And blah blah blah.
No wonder Ballard wanted to get away from all that. He had his own problems. I was so far outside of the Pack that I didn’t even know what was going on anymore. Perhaps they were glad to be rid of me.
I could hear Ballard’s voice in my head. “You’re such a drama queen, Halsey.”
I missed his friendship; I missed seeing him with a grease rag in his hand. Our days pre- All of This were something I missed terribly. I also missed being called Halls. Yet, if I went with Veruschka to Ravenseal House I would be giving all that up, wouldn’t I?
Somewhere Lux’s voice said to me, “You always have a choice––even if it’s not a particularly good one, you have it.”
I had some soul-searching to do, and I couldn’t think of a better way to do it, than on my Gambalunga, the bike Ballard had built for me.
* * *
I went to go start it up. The only problem was somebody else waylaid me. What was it with me, walking down the halls at night? First one thing, then another, I told myself. When I stopped.
A pair of ravenous dark eyes were staring at me, out of slits in the pupils of cat’s eyes. “Asher?” I said.
But it wasn’t Asher. It was a tremendous black cat; its glossy black coat rippling with muscles.
It stared out at me like the thing I had seen in my dreams for the last four months, and then licked its tremendous snout with its heavy cat tongue. I saw its fangs gleam.
Certain that I had seen it, it turned and looked back, like I should follow it. I held my breath, undecided.
Was this what I had been seeing in my dreams? The black cat? It looked like a panther. Which was a mythical creature. Supposedly not real. Panthers did not exist. Much like a unicorn in that sense. Asher was a wereleopard. And from what he had said, it sounded like he couldn’t shift. This was something else. Somebody else. Because, when it looked at me, the cat registered an awareness that transcended its species. It was some shapeshifter? It had to be. It wanted to show me something. I decided to follow it.
We walked, the cat and I, through the corridors, to a place I had never seen before. The vampire side of things. The cat’s heavy paws hit the floor so lightly that I could swear it was not there. Maybe, in an existential sense, I wasn’t either. I had to do my best to remain as silent as it was. Some things were absolutely forbidden, and a living, breathing human Wiccan girl entering into the domain of Maria and the Lenoir was certainly one of them. But then we veered off again.
I could barely see anything. “Stop,” I said. The cat did as instructed, licking its nose.
I freed my arm from the robe––the one with the Wiccan Mark on it.
It was so faint, but the almost absolute darkness made my Wiccan Mark shine in a way I had never seen before. I could see it filling in. And, what was this? It was making some interesting shape. But it was too soon to tell. I didn’t know what it was. My Virtue was Ignorance, so far.
Concentrating as I had never done in my life, I tried to cull forth the magic. It was hard, because I didn’t know how exactly. Lux had never taught us. I guess he thought we would be too dangerous. Maybe that was why they had a Gathering, to prevent us––and by that I meant the other Wiccan Initiates and myself––from forming our own House.
Interesting idea, I thought.
It erupted in a dazzling flash the bright ball of light, shivering in my open palm. “See? Now we can look where we’re going,” I said.
The cat blinked. It didn’t need the light.
But I did. “Okay. I’m ready,” I said. “Let’s go.”
It seemed to nod, before leading the way.
Holding the ball of energy was an interesting experience. I had seemed to think it into existence, but only because I had seen Veruschka and some of the other fledged Wiccans do it before. Maybe you had to see it, before you could do it. Later. There would be time later. All the time in the world.
It shivered and hummed, the ball of energy. It was very bright. Within its core was a darker ball of energy. What I assumed must be the dark aether.
The cat continued to pad lightly through the corridors––when my brain clicked on. “Selwyn?” I said.
It stopped.
“It is you, isn’t it?” I said.
The cat turned and put its moon eyes upon me. But whether by a trick of the light, which I held––or some other magic––the yellow eyes, so fierce-looking, flashed suddenly astonishingly mind-numbingly blue. A stunning flash of azure I had only ever seen once before in Selwyn. And I would remember. He had penetrated my mind before with those sapphire beauties.
“You saved me,” I said. “It wasn’t Ballard, after all, it was you. You’re the Fourth Protector...”
I went to give Selwyn a big hug but he hopped out of my reach. “When Marek attacked me last summer,” I said. “You were watching out for me. You have been watching out for me. But why? You needn’t worry about him. In fact, I think Marek’s one of my protectors, too. He may have just been overzealous, is all. He has a thing about me, you see. But I’m seeing someone else. Lennox. Lennoxlove.”
The panther blinked and then licked its lips. For a magical creature he was very snuggly-looking.
“He’s house-trained, I swear. But then, I have another kind of House, don’t I? You, Marek, Lennox, and Ballard. You’re like the Fourth House. And I’m the Fifth of Fourth. So I guess that means we’ll have to Hive. No, that’s silly. We’re family,” I said. I couldn’t believe it.
The Selwyn-cat didn’t move this time, just pawed the turf uneasily.
“You don’t have to talk to me,” I said, “if you don’t want to. I would like to know how long you have been following me, though, and if it’s you I see in my dreams, because you don’t have to worry about me, I can take care of myself. There, you see?” I had shot the ball of light out of my hand; it flew down the hallway.
Selwyn followed after it at a trot. I could barely keep up.
He slowed. I nearly bumped into him. He held his nose to the ground. His panther ears swiveled forward.
“Hey––you’re a shifter,” I said, s
o that only he and I could hear. “You’re a wizard and a shifter. But I thought that hadn’t happened in a century. Not since––Rhea Silva, whoever she was.”
But Selwyn gave me a sphinx-like look and I shut my mouth. I could suddenly hear them, too, the other voices. The voices I had heard before.
They were here with me now, on the outskirts of Rome, in a tiny underground facility, which had been hollowed out to accommodate the Gathering. I put my hand on Selwyn’s back and kneeled down with him. At my touch, he shivered, but then relaxed. His powerful muscles were still in a crouch, as though he were stalking whoever was making the noises.
“Is it the twins?” I asked, making sure to keep my voice down. “Or, I know, Maria and what’s-his-name, Pier Alexander, they’re always whispering to each other.”
But Selwyn shifted his muscles, dismissing such claims.
“Then who then?” I said.
It was not long before I found out.
Chapter 23 – Vittoria’s Secret
I could feel every mystical vibration from when we had all been animals––my instincts honed from eons of magic in the blood. The voices were like the voices I had heard at Lennox’s family’s house. “She drew him with her blood.” That’s what Camille and Dallace had said. My mind had subconsciously been thinking about it all this time. Did I? Had I drawn Lennox subconsciously with my blood? Had I drawn Marek that way, too? Was I the Super Bitch? To quote Frobenius Foucart’s ugly words. Her? The One?
When I thought about my time together with Lennox, it was almost like it had been some other Halsey, some other Lennox. Not us.
We hadn’t been at Rat Rock at all. Somebody else had.
It was like we were in a trance. Even when we first met. When had I ever fallen for a guy like that?
And here. At this Gathering. Hadn’t I had a thing for Lux? And then Asher? And now... wasn’t I, in a way, attracted to Selwyn? Sure, he was much older––I didn’t know how old exactly. But when had that ever stopped me before? Wasn’t Lennox considerably older? And even Gaven. He was a tricenarian but he was also incredibly good-looking and if he had chosen to indoctrinate me, so be it, I wouldn’t exactly have complained. How could I? He should be on billboards, Gaven. Advertising cologne and world peace. But far from being a predator, he was a gentleman in wolf’s clothes. If he was still a werewolf. Something about the way Ballard was behaving made me feel uncertain.
Ballard wasn’t, was he––he couldn’t possibly be Head Wolf, could he? Il Gatto, the King of Cats?
I almost hissed the last word. Selwyn was a cat. How had he managed it. He was Selwyn, wasn’t he?
Halsey––and I’ve said it before, I told myself. You really haven’t got a clue about, well, any of it. Maybe what you were feeling about Lennox was put there by somebody else. Something else.
And then:
Were feeling? I told myself. Were feeling? I wasn’t getting over Lennox, was I?
The train of thought felt like an over-numbered Hive.
Selwyn seemed to sense my indecision. Around the corner was Something. Something I didn’t want to think about. I could sense that it was important. Selwyn wanted to show me it, after all, and when had he ever been exactly outspoken on anything? The inner sanctuary of his mind was averse to any kind of openness. Something about Selwyn––his quietness, for one thing––led me to believe that he had deep dark secrets to hide. And he had given out that he had known my parents––At the Wiccaning, when he had slammed his fist down. That was also important. Foolish me. I could have asked Lia any time if Selwyn had tried to read her mind? Or if it was just me? Instead Selwyn remained a mystery.
I wanted to pet him. He could have carried me on his back, if he wanted to. His body was one satin-black series of interconnected muscles, all flowing and ripply, with beautiful rosettes––spots particular to the mythical panther. He was breathtaking, in a Selwyn-cat kind of way. Absolutely amazing. When I looked into his eyes, I realized. He wasn’t cold. Just aloof. And maybe there was a reason for that. He didn’t have to be defensive with me. It was important he understood that.
So, I said, remembering the symbols, and speaking to myself. This was Lennox. And there, Ballard. And that, that was Marek. And this one must be Selwyn. I drew the symbols in my mind, and pointed each of them out to myself.
It looked like a spinning propellor. One... two... three... blades...
Four Protectors. A werewolf, two vampires, and a wizard who could shift. But if this was what Ballard had meant by being my full moon––by protecting me––he seriously needed to reconsider his commitment.
Could they really all have been here to protect me? If so, from what?
Selwyn could sense I had something on my mind.
“Sorry,” I said. “Where were we, and where are we? Because I don’t think we’re supposed to be here.”
The pack of muscles at his shoulder blades flexed. The light in his eyes that was usually blue became predatory. So I guessed that meant shifters couldn’t speak when in their animal forms. I adjusted my hood so only my eyes stared out and flexed the fingertips of my Wiccan W. It was like I was clawing the air or something. I waited for him to turn the corner, and the two of us to meet our destiny, together.
Selwyn-cat hunkered and listened to the voices. They were whispering something together. Hissing at each other.
“She scares us. We must––kill her. It is––imperative. Yes.”
“We cannot act until the Initiates are drawn. We must be patient.”
“No,” hissed the other one, “better––we shall pin it on him, yes.”
“Yes,” they agreed, one after the other.
“Silence. Come. Gather your forces. We must gather like they do.”
I wanted to find out who they were, but Selwyn refused. It was like he just wanted to let me know about them. He forbade me going forward. But the speakers, whoever they were, had already disappeared. Instead I was overwhelmed by a nauseous feeling. They were plotting something. Somebody was in danger. There were dangerous things at the Gathering. “I want to go,” I said. “Come on.”
He looked back at me.
“Come on, Selwyn. We shouldn’t be here,” I said.
Blinking, he turned to follow me.
* * *
Day two of the selection ceremony dawned with Lia, all smiles, and I, enjoying our breakfast together. She already knew that I had been chosen by Ravenseal. “I can’t believe it. Right? You must be really excited. Are you excited?” she said. “Because I would be. Ravenseal. They’re supposed to be the best.”
I knew she was only being kind. I decided not to vent to her about anything. There was no need to ruin her afterglow. But just when I was settling in for a peaceful day, Ballard happened.
Lia and I were going to see who else would be selected, but I had to confront Ballard first. Or, I didn’t know, slap him or something. So that’s what I did.
“Check your six, Bal.”
“Bal, is it?” I said.
I had just interrupted him and Paolo talking to some other werewolves about something called lungotevere embankments or something. “They prevent the Tiber from flooding the city, you see. Just like we do, eh? What is it? What do you want?” said Ballard to me.
It was the first time he had spoken to me in weeks.
“You’re a real shit, you know that, Ballard?” I said. I couldn’t help it, I stomped my foot. The tears had started to well.
He shrugged and left me there. “Come on, guys,” he said.
* * *
Some of the other Houses had chosen their Initiates. Coven got Badgley, which, go and figure. There was only polite clapping. A lot of talk, up in the stands where Lia and I were at, involved the Rookmaaker Choosing, as I heard it referred to. I put my hood up.
“Is it true her parents used to be in Pendderwenn? Where is Pendderwenn, anyway?”
“Probably off sulking. He lost his pick, you see. Oh, you mean the House? I don’t know. Somewhere.”
>
I didn’t want to hear anymore. I held Lia’s hand. Now that I was finally leaving Rome, we were closer than ever.
“Don’t listen to them, Halsey,” she said to me.
“It’s hard not to,” I said.
Veruschka continued her Selection duties. I wondered if the Lenoir had a pick. “With the tenth pick,” she said...
Nora Blackknight had just been selected.
I found it funny that some of the Initiates with names––that is to say, acknowledged Wiccan surnames––were being chosen after those without them. Nora Blackknight went after Astra, Shaharizan, and some of the others, who didn’t have last names, or pedigree, or provenance.
“Just because you’re in doesn’t make you in,” said Lia, referring to this Wiccan pedigree or provenance that I didn’t fully understand yet. “They take into account talent. Look at Vittoria... What happened to her, anyway?”
I told Lia.
“We’ll see her again,” said Lia. And then, changing tack: “Guess what I heard?”
“What?” I said, listening hard. I didn’t want to hear the rest of the voices anymore.
“You know that hiving business, you know why they do it?” said Lia.
“Why?” I said.
“It’s so that no one Wiccan House will get too big. No, listen to this. Gaven told me. Apparently that was what he was talking to those two Wiccans about, the day we came––what were their names, Stavros and Gisela? It’s called having a Storm of Covens, and it’s absolutely forbidden.”
I listened on, intrigued.
“It’s what the Lenoir were so scared about––a hundred and twenty-five years ago,” said Lia, “at the whatchamacallit, the meeting. It’s all in your book. I looked it up. ‘If a House,’” she said, quoting from the Magus Codex, “‘elects a leader––and that leader creates a Storm of Covens––’ you know, a bunch of Wiccan Houses all beholden to it––then that Household is said to be in breach and one of two things will happen. Either it must hive––which means number threes going to the Houses and them emancipating themselves fully and completely from their parent coven––or the Lenoir will be sent, to destroy it. The coven and its satellites. Anyway the Lenoir get to go kill that House and all of its offspring.”
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