‘And there was plenty of music at the orphanage,’ Krystal said. ‘Not much of it was written after nine hundred and fifty, however. A lot of it was written before the Majesty War.’
Trudy gave a shrug. ‘I only know most of these from clubs and bars. I don’t think anyone in Greystone can afford their own disc player, and then you have to buy discs to play.’
‘Disc celebrities are a relatively modern phenomenon,’ Felicia said. ‘The technology to record sound onto discs isn’t that old.’ The song came to an end and Ramona got to her feet while the audience applauded the singer. ‘Are you okay, Mona?’ Felicia asked.
‘I’m fine,’ Ramona replied. ‘Be back… shortly.’ Then she walked toward the stage.
‘I think,’ Charlotte said, ‘that she’s finally had enough to drink.’
‘I think you’re right,’ Krystal agreed. ‘I think she’s going to do it.’
On stage, Ramona was talking to the band’s guitarist. There was nodding and then Ramona stepped up to the microphone, slipping her jacket off as she went. Beneath it, she was wearing one of her red one-piece garments with practically no back and a very short red silk skirt, and there were a few appreciative sounds from the audience. Ramona ignored them, lowering her head and closing her eyes for a second before a soft, melodic, melancholy tune began and Felicia gave a small gasp.
‘I stand here in the silence,’ Ramona sang, ‘I watch you walk away…’
‘That’s “The Silence of Our Love,”’ Felicia whispered. ‘It’s got a terribly difficult key-change in the third verse. Amateurs don’t usually–’
‘Well, hush and let this one try,’ Charlotte said.
Whether Ramona had heard the exchange was unclear, but if she did, she ignored it. The song built from a soft croon of lost love and the pain it brought, through a sort of gathering fury of determination to go on with life until, in the third verse, Ramona was belting out something that sounded like an anthem for every woman jilted in love. Until, suddenly, the music cut out behind her and her voice seemed to rise an octave in the middle of a word, and the song went into its final stages by returning to the melancholy, keening theme of pain and loss which had begun it.
As Ramona’s voice faded from the final held note, there was silence… And then the room burst into applause and Ramona lifted her head, bowed to those around her, picked her jacket up from where she had dropped it, and headed back toward the table where her friends were waiting.
‘That was amazing,’ Felicia said as soon as Ramona was close enough. ‘That has never sounded like a song that’s easy to sing, and you sang it beautifully.’
‘Thanks,’ Ramona said, grinning.
‘You did say you liked to entertain,’ Krystal said.
‘And you certainly did,’ Xanthe added.
‘I’m not bad,’ Ramona said. ‘I don’t practise enough to be really good.’
Felicia shook her head. ‘False modesty is deplorable in someone with talent, darling. That was a marvellous performance.’ Her eyes flicked past Ramona to where the singer who had got up first was hovering. ‘I think someone else wants to congratulate you.’
‘Uh-huh,’ Charlotte said. ‘And if you play your cards right, you might get over your knocking problem too.’
Ramona’s cheeks coloured, but she turned to look over her shoulder and she did not look too displeased at what she saw there.
6th Day of Springgate.
The week of the Dracorum was, traditionally, one of reflection, meditation, and beseeching the ancestors for a good spring to bring about a bounty of produce from the land over the summer and autumn. Certain elements had fallen aside as the agricultural nature of dragon society had subsided, but it remained a time for the celebration of family ancestors.
Xanthe was less than pleased that the first day of it was her birthday since it added a subdued feeling to the day which she did not really feel, but she did get her room to herself for half of it: Ramona only returned to the school at lunchtime, looking rather pleased with herself.
Krystal had always ignored the Dracorum as much as she was able. At the orphanage, the nuns had thought that forcing someone with no idea who their ancestors were to partake in ceremonies for them was simply cruel and served no purpose. Krystal had attended one service, just to see what happened, and had spoken to the officiating priest afterward about the magic involved because… Well, she was Krystal and everyone knew magic was her passion.
This year, things were a little different. Krystal still knew nothing about her ancestors, but she knew that she was a royal and she had greater need of finding out where she had come from. That was her reason for pulling an old notebook out from under her books.
‘I wrote down the pattern of the communication ritual,’ Krystal told Trudy, ‘and the words the priest used. I mean, I never expected to need them, but…’
‘This is you we’re talking about,’ Trudy said, grinning.
‘Well, yes. Here it is.’ Krystal paused, reading through the symbols. ‘It’s really pretty simple. It’s sending between dimensions, but it’s not hugely complicated at this time of year.’
‘The priests usually like to wait for sunset, if they can.’
Krystal nodded. ‘It’s a liminal time and, at certain times of the year, it can make some… transitions easier to overcome. During the Dracorum, it’s easier to work spirit corpus magic during the hour before and after sunset.’
‘Well, it’s almost dinner time, so you should be in that range.’
‘Uh-huh. Go lock the door.’
Trudy frowned. ‘You don’t want to be alone for this? I can go wait in Jesse’s room or something.’
‘It doesn’t actually make any difference to the spell. It’s just convention that has everyone conduct the rites in family groups. And you’re my friend.’ Krystal smirked. ‘My special friend. I think whatever ancestors I have should be happy I’m happy with you. And if they’re not, they know where they can stick it.’
Giggling, Trudy skipped across to the door and turned the key in the lock. She had guessed why and, sure enough, when she turned back, there were flickers of multicoloured light dancing around Krystal. The transformed royal took off her glasses, which she did not need in this form, and pushed her lengthened hair back behind her right ear.
‘Okay,’ Krystal said in her now sultry voice, ‘this is going to be quick and easy, but I’ll give them some time for a reply. You’d best sit down.’
Trudy stepped closer and dropped to the floor beside Krystal before wrapping an arm around her lover’s waist. ‘I’m ready,’ she said.
Krystal flashed Trudy a grin and then turned back to her notebook. As she began to solidify the concept of the spell’s symbols in her mind, she also began to read the traditional words, which were set dressing really. ‘Spirits of my ancestors, beloved forebears, hear me on this day. I come before you in celebration of the deeds of our past, and to seek your aid in whatever is to come. Look down upon me and, I pray, allow me to carry the name of… to carry our name forward with pride.’ The spell had been shaped and cast in the middle of the little speech and Krystal was pretty sure it was working. What she could not be sure of was that anyone was listening. Still, she felt she had to try one other thing. ‘Ancestors… I don’t really know who you are, or what your name is, but I can’t carry our name forward without help from you. Please, I beseech you, give me some sign that can lead me to my past. Otherwise, I may not have a future.’ Then Krystal closed the book and put her arm around Trudy. ‘I guess all we can do is wait.’
‘I don’t think we’ve ever had a reply from any of our ancestors,’ Trudy said. ‘Of course, yours might have a better reason to say something back. For all we know, you really are the end of their line.’
‘Now that’s a happy thought,’ Krystal replied, and she bent her neck to rest her head on Trudy’s shoulder and they waited.
7th Day of Springgate.
For Felicia, it was the second day, Indigoday, that w
as the worst. She was allowed out of lectures early to attend the Goldring family’s service with her father. He met her at the school gates without saying a word to her and they walked silently through the streets of Concord City to the hall one of the Goldrings had arranged for the meeting.
Sitting at the back, Felicia looked around the room while the priest went through the usual rite of dedication. In theory, Felicia was now the senior female in her line of the family and, as such, should have been at the front with the other matriarchs. Not only did she not feel like doing that, but there had been hard looks from the other women when she had walked in and she had not attempted to take her rightful place.
So, she sat in a row which contained only her father and herself. He chose to sit three seats away from her and, in truth, she was not entirely sure why he was there at all. He had cast aside his wife like a rag too damaged to be of further use and disavowed her name, so why had he bothered to join the ancestral rites for the Goldrings?
The answer came when the ceremony was done and the family was preparing to move on to someone’s home for refreshments. The Goldrings generally treated the Dracorum ceremony as a chance to gather together and gossip; Felicia had generally found the entire thing monumentally boring and had no intention of attending this year’s event. Then her father drew her to one side of the hall and spoke in a low voice.
‘I am taking ship to Umbral Crown on Greenday,’ Anders Darkmoon said. ‘All my business is taken care of. The proceeds from the sale of the house have been divided and will appear in the trust your… Lidia Goldring set up for you. I am, however, offering you one last chance to put this foolishness aside and come with me.’
‘Father, I–’ Felicia began, but her father frowned at her, annoyed that she should speak before he was finished. Or maybe annoyed that her first words had not been, ‘Yes, let me come with you.’
‘These people do not want you here, Felicia,’ he went on. ‘No one in Concord City wants you here. Come away with me. Your brother has examined the possibility of changing his family name and there is a branch of the Darkmoons in Umbral Crown amenable to the adoption. With some persuasion, they would take you as–’
Sudden anger flared in Felicia and she clamped down on it as hard as she could, but she could still hear the bitterness in her voice as she interrupted her father. ‘Cast aside my mother’s tainted name to take on another with the stink of necromancy still lingering over it? I think not, Anders Darkmoon. In a century, not even these bitter, disloyal social climbers will remember my mother’s indiscretion, but the foul acts of Lorenzo Darkmoon will hang over his family for much, much longer. You’ll never be rid of that and I want no part of it.’
‘Felicia,’ Anders said in a warning tone.
‘And you’re entirely wrong that no one wants me here. I have friends who stood by me when no one else did and, in truth, when they had no reason to think kindly of me.’
‘Friends! Ha! You’ve collected a gaggle of social inferiors about you and you call them friends. You’ll get nowhere in life with them around you.’
Felicia clenched her fists, her jaw tightening. Around them, silence had fallen and the entire family was watching. ‘My friends,’ Felicia said through gritted teeth, ‘include one of the brightest magical minds of my generation, one of the fastest flyers in the sky, and one of the kindest women I know. My friends saved not only your ungrateful behind, but the entire city from the spirit of your foul ancestor. I count myself as lucky to be with them and I can only hope to live up to their example in the future rather than behaving as my family would consider socially acceptable. Go! Take your cowardice and hypocrisy, and flee to Umbral Crown to hide behind your son. I’ll not be sorry to see you go.’ She lifted her head and her gaze swept over the watching Goldrings. ‘I am a Goldring, and I am proud of my heritage and my ancestry. And I say now before my ancestors that I shall not rest until I have made that name something to be proud of!’
Without waiting for a response, Felicia turned on her heels and marched off toward the door of the hall, hoping very hard that the tears would not start until she was outside.
12th Day of Springgate.
‘I know I’m not a gardener,’ Felicia said as she walked through the gardens with Jesse, ‘but I can be of some help. I can fetch and carry, and if you tell me what needs pulling up, I’m sure I can pull well enough.’
‘I don’t mind you being here, Flis,’ Jesse replied, smiling at her friend. ‘I was a little surprised that you wanted to come with me, but I’m not going to turn you away.’
Felicia was silent for a second or two. ‘I think… I think I’d rather not be on my own and Charley is out flying, as usual. Since Indigoday… Well, lectures and such have kept me busy through the week, but now I’ve just myself and my thoughts. I’d rather not be alone with my thoughts.’
‘I can understand that. Uh, did your father leave on time?’
‘As far as I’m aware. I’m sure someone would have told me if, for some reason, something had happened. He’ll be aboard the ship for a week or more, and I’m not even sure he’ll bother to let me know he arrived safely.’
‘Oh. I suppose you did rather cut things off with him.’
‘He cut first,’ Felicia replied and came to a stop as Jesse did. ‘Oh! Is this what you have to work with?’
Jesse gave a small sigh. ‘Yes. It’s really not as bad as it… You know, it is, but it’s nothing I can’t handle and it probably will be good to have some help.’
‘Well, make use of me as you wish.’
Pursing her lips, Jesse stepped closer and pushed up onto the tips of her toes. Her voice was a breathy whisper in Felicia’s ear. ‘You know how I like to make use of you, but I didn’t bring any ropes and the school might not approve of us doing it here.’
Felicia’s cheeks flushed red. ‘A-are you sure we c-can’t just go back to your room?’
‘Not for hours,’ Jesse replied, grinning mischievously. ‘Now, we should go to Thad’s shed. He’ll have a wheelbarrow and some heavy shears, and the compost heap is there. You’ll be delivering plenty of barrowloads to the compost heap.’
‘That sounds like immense fun. Who’s Thad?’
‘Thaddeus Harlow, the school’s groundskeeper. I’m sure you’ll like him. He’s nice.’
The shed Thaddeus used to hold tools, as well as a small burner and a kettle together with his precious supply of coffee, was hidden away behind some hedges, which also obscured a pile of manure and a pair of compost bins from the rest of the gardens. Felicia slipped through a gap in the hedges, following Jesse, and wished that she had picked tighter-fitting clothing; the camisole top she was wearing, along with a pristine pair of denim shorts, had seemed like a good idea in her room, but now she was having to unpick it from privet twigs.
Thaddeus looked up from reading a periodical of some sort, giving Jesse a warm smile and, more or less immediately, Felicia felt that she should certainly not like the attractive, muscular green dragon. He was wearing a shirt, but it was unbuttoned to show off a smooth, very well-built chest, and he was lounging on a deckchair outside the small, brightly painted hut. His baggy work jeans did little to disguise the fact that this man was muscle all the way down and, if Felicia was any judge of men, attracted to Jesse. Her suspicion was further confirmed since, when he spotted Felicia following Jesse through the hedge, he dropped his magazine over his lap. Definitely a philanderer and certainly one to watch!
‘Jesse,’ Thaddeus said, ‘what can I do for you?’
‘I’m clearing out the bed today,’ Jesse replied, and Felicia noticed that Jesse did not stammer in front of the man. ‘I need a wheelbarrow and some cutting gear. Possibly a flamethrower.’ Thaddeus laughed, though Felicia had seen the bed and thought it sounded like a very good idea. ‘Oh, and this is Felicia. She’s going to be helping me, so when she turns up with the first barrow, it would be good if you could show her the ropes.’
Felicia made a slightly strangled noise.
‘A pleasure,’ Felicia replied, stepping forward to offer her hand. He had a firm handshake. ‘I’m afraid I’m not much of a gardener. You’ll need to tell me what a compost heap is so I can use one.’
‘Shouldn’t be a problem. Uh, there is a gate at the back, behind the shed. I’ll unlock it so you can get the barrow in and out.’ Thaddeus ducked into the shed to retrieve his keys, and a couple of minutes later Felicia was discovering that wheelbarrows were the invention of someone determined to make carrying things in a straight line as hard as possible.
‘It’s heavier, but easier to steer, when there’s more weight in it,’ Jesse said.
‘That’s good to know,’ Felicia replied. ‘And that’s a handsome young man.’
‘What? Oh, Thad? Yes, he is.’ Jesse flashed Felicia a smile. ‘I’m sure that, if you put on a little charm, he’d be willing to show you more than just the compost bins. I wouldn’t mind if you took a little while coming back.’
Felicia blinked. ‘I didn’t– I mean, I have my hands full with you, darling. I don’t need anyone else complicating things. Especially not a member of staff.’
‘Okay. I wouldn’t say anything if you did. He’s not interested in me, so…’ Jesse gave a shrug and Felicia smiled. For once, Jesse’s total obliviousness to people being attracted to her was paying off in a manner Felicia could appreciate. ‘Anyway,’ Jesse went on, ‘I’m perfectly happy if you don’t want to take advantage of the gardening equipment. I have some plans for when we’ve finished. In appreciation of your help, sort of thing.’
‘Plans?’
‘Mm-hmm.’
‘What sort of plans?’
Jesse turned her smile on Felicia again. ‘That would be telling.’
‘Oh dear,’ Felicia said.
~~~
Krystal checked the address on the paper Trudy had given her. The building was a small hall in Greystone Ward and it was, apparently, where the Black family were having their Dracorum ceremony. Trudy had decided that Krystal should come, after work when the ritual itself would be finished, since Krystal’s own attempt at one had been a bit of a failure. Plus, Krystal’s version lacked another important feature of such events: a family.
Misfit Witchcraft (Misfits Book 2) Page 6