by Ally Shields
“You, too, cara mia.” His voice softened, his magic reaching across the distance, sending a delicious shiver down her back. “I am ready to board now. Do not forget, little witch, I want to find all your parts still in one tempting package when I return.”
She smiled in spite of her uneasiness. “Ditto. You tell Daron I’ll hold him personally responsible if anything happens to you.”
“I love you, too,” he said as he disconnected.
Ari sat lost in thought. She really did have a bad feeling about this trip. Was it a warning from her witch magic or normal anxiety over Andreas putting himself within Ursula’s reach? Ari hadn’t forgotten the malicious intent blackening the vampiress’s aura. One thing was sure—there was real danger waiting for him in Canada.
Ari twitched her shoulders to release the tension. Maybe she needed to think about something else. Worrying about Andreas wouldn’t make him any safer.
Searching for a good distraction and the comfort of a friendly voice, she made a call to Claris to arrange their meeting with Feyla.
“Great. I’ll call her now,” Claris said. “When I talked with her, she was available any time before 8:00 in the evening, when she goes to work. She’ll be excited to meet this quickly. Will an hour give you enough time to get Re?”
“Plenty. We’ll be there.”
Feeling better now that she was doing something, Ari hurried home, ignored the emptiness of the house, boxed up the rambunctious kitten, and in forty minutes she was sitting in Claris’s kitchen again. Re was in the greenhouse, stalking his male parent, trying to convince Hernando to play with him. The white Siamese regarded his offspring with fatherly tolerance.
“So, what gives?” Claris tilted her head. “You’re way too quiet.”
Ari shifted her attention to her friend. “I’m worried about Andreas.” She told her about the Toronto trip.
“Oh, wow, Ari, I’m sorry, but Andreas can handle this. You know he can. You’re just not used to being apart. I was like that when Brando first started going to conferences. Eventually you get used to it.”
“Used to it? Don’t tell me you don’t mind Brando’s constant trips. I’ve seen it on your face. You don’t like it, even a little bit.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” Claris looked down at the table.
“Have you considered telling him?”
“What good would that do? Science is his life, his career. I’m only the girlfriend.”
“Whoa. Only the girlfriend? Do you think you’re less important? If so, you two had better be talking. Weren’t you discussing marriage and babies a couple months ago?”
“That was before his latest breakthrough, the healing formula that he extracted from Fantasy, the hallucinogenic street drug. Now everyone wants to talk with him. I haven’t seen him in three weeks.”
“That’s harsh. Surely he calls?”
“Every day. But it’s not the same. I’m afraid—” Whatever Claris was going to say was interrupted by a tap on the greenhouse door.
Ari answered and invited Feyla in, recognizing her immediately. A petite elf, thin, pale complexion and delicate features. The girl hesitated when she saw Ari and offered a shy smile. “I can’t believe we’re meeting again. And over kittens.” Feyla looked around when she heard a rustle, gasped, and put one hand over her mouth. “Oh, my God. Is that him?”
Ari was left standing with a bemused look on her face, as Feyla plopped on the greenhouse floor. The elven girl invited Re to explore a ribbon from her hair, and her peals of laughter soon filled the room.
Claris came up beside Ari. “Even I didn’t expect this. I think they’re going to get along fantastically.”
Ari nodded, totally in agreement with her friend until Claris added, “I’ll have to call Gabriel and tell him how clever he was to suggest this.”
Ari sighed. Gabriel. Yet again.
Despite having placed one more kitten in a good home, Ari left Claris’s shop slightly annoyed with her friend for finding another excuse to talk with the handsome vampire, definitely annoyed with Brando for leaving Claris alone, greatly annoyed with Daron for needing Andreas in Toronto, and even annoyed with Andreas for going. Since she really wanted to kick someone’s ass, she thought it was high time she found the coven. With that goal in mind, she headed home and dug out her scrying equipment.
She hadn’t used the scrying bowl for months. The last time she’d lost the image, mostly due to the nature of the demon she’d been hunting. And that was before she had the Book of Shadows, a grimoire that recorded the history of her Calin family of witches, including the spells and potions genetically tied to her bloodline. Her chances were bound to be better now that she had her witches’ bible.
Sitting on the floor of the Chantilly Suite, with the doors closed and only the light of the moon streaming in the window, Ari lit the candles around the bowl of water in front of her. As the scent of vanilla and lavender filled the air, she breathed in the calming aromas and welcomed the four elements. Opening the Book of Shadows, she ran her finger down the page and began to read. She’d already checked to verify she had the proper ingredients but wanted a last peek at the words. Satisfied, she closed the book and picked up a small vial of distilled flower of althaea root. She added three drops to the water and stirred with one of the drink stirrers she’d swiped from Club Dintero. When she was finished, she closed her eyes and pictured the face of the High Priestess, focusing on the energies she’d felt in the cave. Slowly she began to speak.
Throughout the world spread your light; reveal what’s hidden in the night;
Find this face; show its place;
Gracious Goddess, grant my plea; so mote it be.
When she had repeated the words three times, she picked up a crystal pendant, holding it by a silver chain. Swinging it over the bowl, she waited for the picture to form. It looked like a map or aerial view of Riverdale. A small light appeared, then another. Within seconds, more than a dozen lights dotted the image.
Ari stared at it in shock. What had she done wrong? There should be one light, showing the current position of the coven. Were the members spread all over town? She quickly counted the positions—fifteen in all—and finished the ritual, thanking the Goddess.
After extinguishing the candles, she popped up to her feet and turned on the lights. She grabbed the Book of Shadows and began to search through its pages for an explanation. She’d never heard of something like this happening. Even if the coven had been separated, Ari had focused on the High Priestess. How could one person be in more than one place?
A half hour later, she had figured out the answer. A misdirection spell. The coven had taken precautions not to be discovered. The true location was hidden among fourteen false ones. By the time she checked them all, the witches would be gone.
“Damn.” When a knock sounded at her door an instant later, she swung it open to find Lilith grinning at her.
“Swearing at yourself?” The werelioness, half of the husband-wife team on Andreas’s security unit, strolled in, glancing at the magical paraphernalia. “I’ve heard of people talking to themselves, but this has to be a new low. Something go wrong with the magic?”
“It’s these damned witches.” Ari stormed. “They’re too clever by half.”
“Yeah, well, I guess I caught you at a bad time. If you’re going to stay in this mood, I may leave again. I only came by because Russell went to Toronto with Andreas.”
Ari’s wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, right. And what about your orders to stay close to me?”
“Huh, now that you mention it, Andreas may have said something about that.” Lilith didn’t look at all perturbed that Ari had guessed her real mission. The lioness dropped her lanky body into a chair, shifting one of two holsters carrying her guns.
Ari sighed. “It sucks that they’re in Canada without us. Ursula is an uber vamp, and she’s had her way for too long. She’s not going to put up with opposition from anybody.”
“I heard all
about her when I tracked down Gabriel earlier this evening. He’s really rattled. And I’ve never seen him that way before.”
Ari’s heart skipped a beat. Neither had she. “What exactly did he say?”
“Only what you said. But it sounded much scarier coming from a master level vampire.” She glanced at Ari’s worried face. “Maybe we shouldn’t let Gabriel’s mood worry us so much. He’s got more responsibility than usual. The guards are still missing, and he’s convinced there will be another attack on the caves. That’s a lot to deal with for someone who never wanted to be in charge.”
At least part of what Lilith said was true. Gabriel had made it clear often enough that he had no ambitions to be a prince. It was one of the reasons Ari had eventually learned to trust him. She didn’t have to worry that he’d plot a rebellion against Andreas. But despite his lack of ambition, Gabriel was one smart vampire. If he was worried, they should all be ready for trouble. Gabriel’s concerns only reinforced all the bad feelings Ari already had.
* * *
When Andreas called upon arrival in Toronto, his report did nothing to calm her fears.
“Ursula has collected three or four vampire leaders around her—the older, more traditional ones—but the younger ones are keeping their distance. They are not accustomed to Europe paying attention to them and do not welcome a change. Daron and I hope to encourage their independence. Still, it is a dangerous game. A rebellion could provoke a more serious response from the O-Seven.”
“Like what? What can they do from Europe? Are you saying they would all come traipsing over here?”
He was silent a moment. “They might not need to come. Their combined power is tremendous and can be wielded over distance. I am not sure we want to find out just how far.”
“What would that be like? Would more enforcers come?” she persisted. “Would they start a magical war using their powers? If it comes to a fight, do they do their own fighting or leave it to others?”
“If we were in Europe, they would do all of that and more. The elders fight with their minds, not their bodies.”
“You think they can really reach this far with just their minds?”
“I am afraid so. Probably less effectively than in Europe.” He sighed. “But it could be more than enough against the defenses we could raise.”
“There’s got to be something we can do.”
“I welcome any suggestions.”
“What about this mind thingy we have? Could we do something with that?”
“Mio Dio, Arianna. We are just learning to use the gateway. You cannot expect to take on the O-Seven in that manner.”
Since she didn’t have other immediate ideas, they moved on to talk about his uneventful plane trip and the current status of things in Riverdale. Long after the phone call ended, she thought about the frightening abilities of the O-Seven. Maybe there was something she—as a witch—could do. After all, the O-Seven had failed to wipe out the witches in Europe. The time had definitely come for her to approach Zylla, the wise woman living in the caverns. Nothing like talking to a firsthand historian.
Ari glanced at the clock on her dresser. Midnight. Perfect time to chat with an eight-hundred-year-old vampire.
Chapter Twelve
Once Ari explained Zylla had approved a meeting, Gabriel readily agreed to lead the way into the caverns.
“Consider yourself privileged.” Gabriel carried a lantern through the narrow pathways connecting the caverns. “Zylla doesn’t talk to many.”
Loose pebbles stirred occasionally under their feet, but most of the path was worn smooth. The bouncing light of the lantern made the caves even more mysterious. The musty scent from the damp walls and the presence of vampiric energy blocked any ability for Ari’s magic to give accurate readings on where she was and what dangers might be surrounding her. It made her edgy, and she noted every dark recess along the way.
“What’s she like?” Ari’s voice echoed in the tunnel. “Andreas never said much about her, except she’s old.”
“She was a soothsayer before her transformation.”
“Yeah, I guess he mentioned she was a wise woman. Did he mean witch?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. She has powers beyond those of a vampire, but I haven’t heard what they are. I didn’t meet her until I came to Riverdale, but it’s rumored she’s been in America since the first settlers came. Perhaps she’ll tell you more, if you ask.” He ducked into a smaller tunnel. “We’re almost there.”
As he spoke they turned another corner, and the path opened into a small chamber. Ari took in the sight before her. A woman with white hair falling to her waist sat next to a wood fire, stirring a pot of boiling liquid. Or so it seemed. The fire wasn’t real; it was a very realistic illusion. The pot emitted a faint smell of root beer that tickled Ari’s nose. Sassafras oil. What would a vampire do with that particular witches’ brew?
Finally, Ari took in the old-fashioned, multicolored skirt, the black top, and matching shawl draped over the woman’s arms. It all seemed like a carefully staged scene from the past.
Zylla looked up, her eyes glinting with interest at sight of Gabriel. “Ah, I had not expected to see you tonight. You honor an old woman.”
Gabriel bowed to her. “As if I could keep my distance from a beautiful woman.” He gave a flirtatious grin. “I have brought someone who is most anxious to meet you.”
“The Guardian.” Zylla turned her head to study Ari. “Andreas says you have many questions for me.”
“Yes, I do. If you don’t mind.” Ari stood a little awkwardly, not knowing what she was supposed to do. How did you greet an eight-hundred-year-old vampire who looked about as scary as your grandmother? “My name is Arianna, and I’m honored that you agreed to see me.”
The old vampiress laughed. “How could I resist Andreas’s request? I am old, but I still have a weakness for the flattery of handsome young men. He spoke fondly of you.”
Ari blushed, wondering what he’d said. Did this woman know they were lovers? Would she care?
“I had heard of you before he came and was curious.” Zylla peered at her. “You are a witch.”
Relieved the woman had steered the conversation onto safe grounds, Ari answered readily enough. “Yes. From the Calin bloodline.”
“I knew Talaitha. Lovely woman.”
Ari immediately warmed toward the vampiress. “My great-grandmother. She raised me, and I still miss her.”
“Very proper that you should. Come, sit, child. I once had some of your skills. Not many, for my witch blood was sadly thinned, but I had some ability to see the future and for healing. I can still make a comforting illusion and a useful potion or two.” She pointed her wooden spoon at the pot. “A dwarf I know suffers from rheumatism.”
Ari nodded. A logical use of sassafras. She sat down cross-legged next to the fire and immediately noticed there was no heat radiating from it. If she placed her hand in it, she’d feel nothing. That meant the pot was being warmed by a separate spell and Zylla had retained more tricks than she’d implied. Gabriel perched on a rocky ledge, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched the two women assess each other.
“I have no talent for prophecy,” Ari confessed. “My witch mentor, Moriana, is very good at practical prophecy involving the near future. Visitors coming, phones ringing. That sort of thing. I never could get the hang of it, even though I tried several times.” She stopped, realizing she was babbling. The old witch made her nervous. Ari took a steadying breath. “Did Andreas tell you about our problems with the O-Seven?”
Zylla waggled her white head. “He mentioned it. Don’t take them lightly, my dear.”
“I’m not. That’s why I’m so interested in the vampire-witch war back in 1329. How did the witches survive? Is there a spell or enchantment that will protect us from the elders?”
The old woman pursed her lips in thought. “Nothing is foolproof. And the witches never won that war. The conflict continues today, carried on by the Witc
hes’ League. I will tell you what I know, but I cannot predict if it will help you. My gift of prophecy was changed by the vampiric transformation. I no longer see the future with clarity.” She grinned, showing yellowed fangs. “Nothing wrong with my memory though. I can tell you about the past as if it was yesterday. How much do you know of that time in history?”
“Almost nothing, except humans call it the Middle Ages.”
Zylla nodded vaguely as she stirred her pot again. “By 1329 the crusades were over. So was the famine. The Knights Templar had been murdered, and the plague was not yet upon us. Europe was in turmoil; the Hundred Years’ War was brewing. In that atmosphere, it is not surprising that Otherworlders would begin their own quests for power. The vampires began to extend their influence beyond the forests of Germany into territories that had long belonged to the witches. Clashes were inevitable.” The old woman stopped and gave Ari a questioning look. “But perhaps you do not want to hear the details of this ancient history.”
“Oh, please, go on. Were you directly involved in any of the fights?”
“My coven was. I was not a warrior witch, but I lent whatever power I had to our cause.” Zylla picked up a thick cloth, wound it around her hand and arm to protect them from splashes of hot liquid, and moved the pot from the fire to a flat stone to cool. She put out the fire with a flick of her hand and pulled the shawl around her shoulders. “No, I do not feel the cold, child,” she said in response to Ari’s quick look. “It is nothing but a comforting habit.” Zylla’s hand went up to touch the deep crow’s feet near her temples. “I was an old woman before I became a vampire. I still enjoy the familiarity of the life I once lived.”
Which explained the clothes and the fake fire.
“Now where was I? Oh, yes. The beginning of the war. At first the witches did not object to the vampires’ expansion. As long as the vampires were discreet, they didn’t bother us much.” She settled her colorful skirt around her. “The war started over a pig.”