Her voice languid from sleep, she explained, “Remember when you were trying to show me how to cast in Ms. Boudreaux’s class? We were trying to heal the rash Estelle gave you?”
I made a sound at the back of my throat that was meant to be an acknowledgement. She understood and continued, after yawning and extending her arms in front of me. My hands found hers and drew her back in place as she spoke. I wasn’t ready for her to let me go. “We healed the class,” she explained. “And we improved them last night in the same way.”
“How?” I asked, intrigued by her insight, a point which hadn’t occurred to me.
She put it so simply, I chuckled.
“You channeled my energy in your release.”
I thought about it and then nodded. “It was an incredible release,” I admitted.
Her cheek moved against my shoulder as she smiled. “I know…”
I laughed from my belly.
“Well, look at them,” she said with a tip of her head at the window. “They are living proof how perfect we are together.”
I surveyed the growing crowd, who were now engaged in larger, even more powerful casts. “Yes, we are. We definitely are.”
A state of absolute comfort washed over me as we stood there, with Jocelyn so close and our forces growing more powerful. There wasn’t much more I could ask for, and then…
I stiffened and jutted my head forward, toward the bayou outside. Without realizing it, I muttered, “I don’t believe it…”
“What?”
“My cousins are here.”
“Really?” She sounded more excited than I felt.
“Really.”
“Is that a good thing?” she asked, trying to decipher my tone.
“No,” I said before considering it. “And yes.”
“Why no?”
I watched as one of them fist bumped a winged man who had come to introduce himself. It was meant to be a gesture of greeting, but with that kind of force… “They’re descendants of Celts.”
“Which means?”
“They’re brutes.”
Already, I was heading out the door, preparing to squash any argument Aidan was creating.
“That’s a little rude,” Jocelyn pointed out.
“It’s all right,” I reassured her. “To them, it’s a compliment.”
Shockingly, by the time Jocelyn set us down on the dock opposite my shack, Aidan had made friends with the man who he’d nearly shoved off the dock with his greeting. It was in the middle of a hearty laugh when Aidan happened to catch sight of me. He clapped a hand to the other man’s arm, bellowed, “Too true”, and began a march in my direction.
“Little cousin,” he said, again shouting from his gut, as was typical.
“Not so little anymore,” I replied.
“True! I understand you are taking the world by storm, as your destiny calls for.”
We embraced as I asked, “What are you doing here?”
He pulled away swiftly, jerking his head back. With a hand sweeping across the rest of my family, he announced, “We heard there was a war going on.”
“Took you a while.”
“Ah,” he nodded. “News travels slow to those on the fringe. We came in last night. Tried to track you down but…,” his eyes moved to Jocelyn, “well, now. I can see why you were busy.”
His hands fell and he approached her, taking in her disheveled hair and the crystal quartz bracelet she wore on her wrist. If it weren’t for the black cloak slung over her shoulders, I had no doubts that he’d be inspecting her curves, too. But either way, she was gorgeous.
“My lady,” Aidan whispered, bowing to take each of her hands and kiss their tops. “And I was told Weatherfords were wretched. Not so with you.”
She gave me a questioning stare.
“Aidan,” I told her. “One of the more brutish of the brutes.”
He laughed enthusiastically. “That I am, little cousin.”
“And this is Jocelyn, the Rel-”
“She needs no introduction,” Aidan declared. “Come, meet my family, Relicuum, now that we all are on good terms.”
I grimaced, wondering what she would think, despite resolving our truce – again – but it turned out better than I thought. I should have given her more credit. She walked away from them an hour later with a high opinion. I was amazed.
They, however, weren’t the only ones to enter the swamp last night. Some of the most powerful casters to ever exist mingled with the crowd, which never seemed to dissipate along the docks and only grew in size.
I was counting on this but not on the number who showed. It was a testament to our strength and willfulness as Dissidents, but it threw a wrench in my plans to assess every person’s capability level. A quick survey of the thriving village confirmed there were far too many of them to do it individually.
My eyes landed on Aidan, who was badgering a man into a contest, and the answer came.
“A tournament.”
I looked at Jocelyn who stood beside me and my eyebrows crossed in confusion. It was her voice that gave me the answer, and it had channeled through my head. What threw me was that we weren’t touching.
She had seen what I had and read my thoughts, and now I was reading hers.
“Apparently, last night affected us too,” she said without moving her lips, other than to lift them in a mischievous smile.
I kissed her, taking my time before pulling away. “I love you.”
“Better,” she retorted with a sparkle in her eyes.
I went in search of Lester to ask him to separate the forces by ability and to pair the men and women for competition. He did this with amazing speed, and as contestants stood in line, waiting for their turn to prove their prowess, I evaluated our new troops.
We’re stronger than before, when the Vires came for Jocelyn and me in the village the night they took her from me, more diverse, with broader intellect. That was apparent as each competitor stepped up to the makeshift line Lester had drawn at the edge of a dock.
Most rounds were interesting, but there were those that stood out as impressive. Theleo was well-paired with a dark-skinned man with white hair and wings to match who went by the name of Campion. Both showed unique skills, keeping the other guessing. In the end, they shook hands, and gave each other the due respect each deserved. Only one woman participated who wasn’t from our world and who wasn’t able to grow wings. She was human in all respects. But in her black suit laden with weapons, the sai she deftly controlled, and in the maneuvers she made, using the docks, boats, and water as tools rather than obstacles, it was clear she was a force in and of herself. Even her name was memorable, Ms. Beedinwigg. All of Maggie and Eran’s roommates performed well. With Ezra using her intelligence to outwit her competitor, Rufus using his size, and Felix using distractions, it was clear they could hold their own. The only one who declined participation was Gershom. I remember seeing him at our high school before he disappeared entirely. He was quiet back then, too. Although, he did mention that his ability would show itself soon enough. I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but I took him for his word.
Everything seemed to be going well, moving along, until Isabella arrived. She was breathless, and I’d never seen her break a sweat before. She landed in the only open spot, between the two current competitors. Her velocity was enough to throw both competitors backwards and off their feet and to leave a gaping crack in the dock’s boards.
“Jameson,” she demanded, striding directly for me. “We have an issue.”
She swung past me and into my parents’ shack with barely a glance at the rest of those around her. Jocelyn and I were the next two in the door with our families following. The only one in the room not a Weatherford or a Caldwell was Kalisha. She had a unique ability to find herself in a meeting without attracting too much attention. I imagined this trait was from her old Vire days. There was visible upset from everyone present, except her, when Isabella made her announcement.
“Your housekeepers have been taken. They will be hung at dusk.” She said this in her typical no-nonsense manner, but the perspiration on her forehead told of a different reaction underneath.
“How did they get to them?” Alison asked. Being my sister, I was surprised she hadn’t figured it out.
“Lacinda,” I grumbled before anyone else had the chance.
It appeared the woman wasn’t regarding the threat I’d made against her life if she intervened again.
Alison nodded. “Because she’s the Surveyor, she would be the one to bring her in.”
“It’s designed to weed you out,” Spencer said from the corner, his voice low and troubled. He was uneasy about the kidnapping, and had every right to be.
It was common enough to take someone from our world, or the other world ignorant to our ways, but voodoos had never been touched. There was a mutual respect between witches and those who practice voodoo. We come to them, ask for help, and then we leave, quietly and without disruption. Other than that, their culture remained separate from ours.
But then…The Sevens weren’t either one. This made them immune, or so they thought.
“Lester,” I said, turning to him. He read my face and knew what I was thinking.
In his deep brogue, he replied, “They’re as ready as they’re gonna be.”
“Then let’s assemble them. We’re going to need all the strength we’ve got.”
“What are you planning?” Jocelyn asked.
I was so consumed with determination I almost channeled my answer to her, but the rest of the room needed to hear it, they needed to understand what they were getting themselves in.
“Full, frontward attack.”
Aidan let out a whoop from the door, hollered the message to the rest of the crowd, and cheers erupted.
I was relieved they felt so emboldened. Maybe they were more ready than I gave them credit for.
I, on the other hand, had seen the Vires converging. We were heading into battle against a force larger than we wanted, without preparation, without a strategy, and without any time to execute one if we had it. And that, I knew, was exactly what The Sevens were expecting.
It was early morning in New Orleans, which made it just about dusk when we arrived in Italy. Once during the flight, I peered back to find a miscellany of white wings and black cloaks. It stretched for as far back as I could see, and it made me wonder what the radar detectors below us were picking up.
We needed to arrive undetected, but with a force this size, that would be impossible. I knew already that The Sevens, or what was left of them, would see us coming. And they would use it to their advantage.
What I hadn’t expected was for them to draw us in so close.
As we approached, a massive number of sentinels waited for us, rows of black uniforms so close together they formed a solid line weaving through the Ministry grounds. But not a single one moved. The orders had been given, and clearly they didn’t include an attack.
If anyone was waiting for me to stop and make an assessment, they were sorely disappointed. There would be no stopping; there was no time for it.
“Reminds me of London,” Maggie commented to the left of me, her appendages taking up several feet on both sides of her.
Eran, who was on her opposite side, chuckled. “With one contrasting dynamic…this time, we’re the ones attacking.”
They laughed and I wondered, once again, if they had reached the border between reason and lunacy.
Lunacy would work at this juncture.
“I see them,” Jocelyn said, drawing my attention back to the Ministry. My eyes swept across it, as we closed in on it, narrowing to the location where most hangings took place: the courtyard.
We breached the Ministry walls, soaring over the Vires assembled, and still found no resistance. When we landed in the courtyard, with those in our forces with the ability to hover doing so above us, the Vires still did not move.
And then I understood why.
The Sevens wanted us to see what they had done. They wanted to make sure there was no question it had been done by their hands, and not during the battle that was sure to come.
They want us to know their power.
I knew all this for a fact.
My mind, always so focused, stopped then, unable to process any longer. Vaguely, I understood this reaction was for protection, a shutting down of my mind before what I saw could do more harm.
I stood frozen, unable to register my surroundings, unable to move, unable to breath.
Jocelyn, however, screamed shrilly. She ran for the two women dangling at the end of their own respective ropes, who I wouldn’t have recognized if I hadn’t been told they were here.
In one continuous thought, every memory I ever had of Miss Celia surged back to me. The sight of her snapping beans in the kitchen with her favorite bowl. Leaving for church in her best Sunday hat. Standing inside the house she grew up in while trying to prepare Jocelyn and me for the war we found ourselves in. The pride in her eyes as she educated me about the voodoo culture. The disgruntled frown she retained just for me, whenever she caught me sneaking out to visit Jocelyn. And so many more.
Now, here she hung. The remains of what was once a strong, resourceful, loving woman now destroyed.
In my near-catatonic state, I caught glimpses of the scene in front of me. I couldn’t be sure if they were of Miss Celia or Miss Mabelle. Regardless, they both had suffered incredibly before death. The dangling eye. The missing nose. The torn fingernails, a sign they had clawed at something. The patches of perfectly cut skin removed from their thighs, the belly, the left jaw. It all told me that they had suffered. Worse, they had been tortured. No, The Sevens had done this to put them on display just for us. The presence of one woman confirmed it. Lacinda stood on the stairs directly above Miss Mabelle and Miss Celia, the two women who she had unquestionably committed to death.
As my eyes landed on her, narrowed, filled with rage, she did something unexpected. She jerked. She stared back, her expression blank. She was deciphering something.
Decipher this, bitc-
I got that far in my thought before she drew in a breath and looked horror-struck. There was no reason for anything else to cause this reaction in her. Her eyes were still on me. So I understood…
You can hear me, I channeled.
The twitch in her face told me she could.
We’re stronger now, I thought. If I can channel to you across the courtyard, imagine what more we can do.
Her eyebrows furrowed, telling me that she didn’t like that news. And if she didn’t enjoy hearing it, she definitely wouldn’t care for my next thought.
I smirked and delivered it defiantly. It must be from making love to Jocelyn.
And Lacinda’s jaw fell. Her eyes swooped to Jocelyn, who was oblivious to her, still trying to heal Miss Mabelle and Miss Celia, and sent sharp imaginary daggers at her.
Something snapped in me then. I understood that Lacinda had not heeded my warning to stay clear of Jocelyn. She never would. I knew that she had used Miss Mabelle and Miss Celia to trap us here. This had all been planned. And for those poorly made choices, Lacinda would die.
I’m going to get through these Vires, I warned, and then I’m coming for you.
She spun around, her teal blue silk dress flying out from her force, and then she ran.
This understanding liberated me, removing my mental shackles that kept me bound just where The Sevens wanted me.
Roaring, I ran for the nearest Vire, took hold, and channeled my force into him. His eyes widened before he could even react, my anger swelling inside him until his heart burst. The two on both sides of him, tackled me, but they didn’t get far. My energy, potent with rage, eliminated both, rupturing their brains.
A chain reaction followed with the entire courtyard and everyone in it fighting.
In a blind rage, I ran for Jocelyn, who was still trying to resurrect Miss Mabelle and Miss Celia. It was clear to
me that she had lost it as much as I had, although she’d gone in the direction of grief.
“Jocelyn,” I shouted, sprinting across the courtyard.
I had almost reached her when a woman stepped out from behind Miss Celia’s slumped, hanging body. Dressed in a blue batik, a traditional Indonesian dress, she looked out of place surrounded by black uniforms. However, the snide smile and moldavite stone necklace she wore seemed perfectly in place.
“Diomed,” I yelled, rattling Jocelyn enough to cause her to look up just as Diomed’s face stretched into a victorious smile.
Ice, the word raced through my head, Diomed is susceptible to ice.
As my feet carried me toward Jocelyn, a distance that seemed farther with each step, I searched for something, anything that could be used to freeze water. But Diomed was diligent. She had distanced herself from her weakness, and she had been careful not to reveal her position until the moment that suited her best.
What she hadn’t counted on was my momentum.
I didn’t hesitate, extending my arms as I reached her and lodged them around her neck. My force slammed her body against the stone wall behind her.
And my channeling instantly caught the images that had been captured in her memory. She had been a prostitute, a maid, a shopkeeper throughout her extended life, taking what she wanted, killing when she could, until meeting Peregrine. They became lovers, but there was no love between them. It had been her idea to seek out the first channelers, to abduct them and use them, and to leave their bodies in the street. It was she who caused Jocelyn to be taken from me weeks ago, having tortured those in her province for information on our whereabouts.
“You’re going to die now,” I growled, squeezing her neck.
Her eyes dipped to my hands encircling her throat and because her breath was kept from surfacing by my squeezing fingers, her answer was a sideways smirk and a slight shake of her head. But it was the confidence in her glare that frustrated me.
She was relaying the truth, and we both knew it.
Then her body began to slowly peel away from the wall. Something behind her was shoving her forward, but there should only have been stone. It wasn’t until I saw the tip of the first appendage did I understand what was happening. By then, it was too late.
Prophecy (Residue Series #4) Page 21