“You are expected,” one of the men said. “This way,” the other added, gesturing into the house.
Cadell was led into a study on the first floor. The house was decorated with an uneven mix of styles, with reproductions of the works of the renaissance masters like De Vinci hanging next to the works of more contemporary artists such as Salvador Dali. Classical Greek and Roman statuary shared space with formless impressionist works made from various kludges of randomly-selected materials. The chaos of styles seemed fitting for the house of a man who had a reputation for being mad. Isles’ study was equally fitting to that reputation.
Wearing a blindingly white suit with a pastel-blue tie. Isles himself sat behind a large mahogany desk with a huge reproduction of Munch’s The Scream of Nature hanging behind it. Two very Victorian-looking leather bound easy chairs sat next to bright orange chairs of nineteen-sixties vintage An obviously fake bearskin rug, complete with a toothy head, lay in front of a small fireplace while an authentic Persian rug lay in front of the desk. Isles seemed to be oblivious to Cadell’s arrival and was entirely preoccupied with a Rubik’s Cube.
“Sir,” one of the guards that had greeted Cadell said. “Mister Selkirk has arrived.”
“Selkirk?” Isles repeated, still fixated on the cube.
“Cadell Selkirk, Sir,” the guard reiterated.
Isles stood and threw the cube forcefully into the fireplace, causing his fine straw-blond hair to flitter about his shoulders, leaving strands across his angular, almost gaunt face. “Ah, yes,” he proclaimed. “The seventh son of Brendon Selkirk, decorated United States Marine, slayer of more demons than even Buffy,” he proclaimed, bowing at the waist with a flourish of his right arm. “I am honored to have you in my home, Blessed Warrior.”
Cadell inclined his head slightly without taking his eyes away from Isles or his guards. “I greet you on behalf of the Selkirk family,” he announced. “I’m here to bargain, Mister Isles.”
Isles resumed his seat behind his desk and retrieved another Rubik’s cube from a desk drawer; handing it to a guard who removed it from its box and manipulated it until the squares on its sides were sufficiently scrambled before handing it back to isles. “Bargain?” he objected. “I should think you’d be here to compensate me for what your mother did to my wards. It will be days until the magical currents around my house settle sufficiently for me to reconstitute them. With my wards down, I had to go through considerable effort to conjure my muscle-bound helpers here.”
“I wouldn’t know about that,” Cadell retorted.
Isles spoke but his eyes were only for the Rubik’s Cube. “Of course you would. Your lovely mother is one of perhaps a dozen practitioners who could even attempt to cast a spell that powerful. Besides, it was supercharged with angelic power that only the Blessed have access to. You do realize that your family unleashed the magical
equivalent of a small atomic bomb, do you not?” “It was necessary,” Cadell admitted. “You have something that could bring worldwide destruction, something which my family cannot allow to fall into the hands of the Grigori or Nephilim. I’m here to bargain for it. The demons will come to simply take it.”
“That would have been much more difficult for them before your mother blasted my wards into near nothingness,” Isles countered.
“Truthfully,” Cadell admitted, “we didn’t know the spell would be that...,” he searched for a word,
“disruptive.”
Isles laughed, but still did not look away from his Rubik’s Cube. “That, I can believe,” he proclaimed. “Now,
Cadell of the house of Selkirk, why are you here?”
“The spell that wrecked your wards was a spell intended to locate a very old, very powerful relic. My family wants it.” Cadell said.
“Solomon’s ring, you mean?” Isles asked, grinning impishly as he twisted the cube. “I’ve been wanting to do some experimenting with it, but there is only so much time in a day and so many puzzles to solve.”
Cadell took a step toward the desk and Isles’ guards tensed. “You’ve had the ring a while, then?”
Isles fussed over the cube for several seconds before answering. “Oh, yes,” he admitted. “It was in the Bagdad museum when the place was looted during one of the military disturbances that are so frequent in that region. I acquired a number of interesting pieces during that time. I understand the ring was stored in a drawer in the museum’s basement. The so-called experts had no idea what they possessed.” Cadell tilted his head. “But you knew what it was. You had Solomon’s ring all of this time and never got around to examining it?” he asked.
“There was no reason to rush,” Isles said. “I couldn’t use its ability to control demonic entities and I certainly have no desire to unleash seventy-two, ah, shall we say, disruptive demons on the world. That would make the earth positively untidy.”
“You can’t use the ring?” Cadell pressed.
“Cursed things,” Isles shouted. He stood abruptly and hurled the second Rubik’s Cube into the fire. “Oh, no. I have some demon ancestry, distant though it is. I believe my great-great-great-great-grandfather was an incubus. I may have need of a few more greats in there, but it doesn’t matter how far removed the demon blood is. Demons can’t use the ring to control their diabolic kin. They can plug the ring onto the vessel, unlock it, and release all of those mayhem-loving demon lords, though. I have no reason to do that. I may be pleasantly eccentric, but I am not a moron.”
“Well, if you have no use for the ring, perhaps it would be safer in the hands of the Blessed,” Cadell proposed. “Especially since your wards are down.” Isles had taken a third Rubik’s Cube from his desk and was twisting it with increasing zeal. “Just because I can’t use it doesn’t mean that I don’t have use for it. I just haven’t found that use as of yet. Besides that, it did belong to King Solomon. That alone makes it a bauble worth having. I’m afraid I would have to receive something of equal value if I am to part with it.”
Cadell smiled and nodded. “Of course you would. You know, my family only found the ring first because demons can’t cast that disruptive location spell. But Blackwell won’t be far behind us, and I doubt he will be polite when he comes looking for the ring.”
“Actually,” Isles contradicted, “I’ve dealt with Aetius Blackwell before. He can be somewhat … trying to one’s patience, but he has never resorted to violence during our dealings.”
“But you’re not willing to give him the ring,” Cadell countered. “You know he’ll use it to open Solomon’s vessel, which you said you would not choose to do. You also know he’ll just take it if he can’t get it through barter.”
“He will undoubtedly try,” Isles agreed, glaring at the still-unsolved Rubik’s Cube. “But despite the damage your family’s rather rash action has done to my wards, I am far from helpless. Especially since you and your brothers have been so actively reducing the numbers of Blackwell’s Tainted minions in the last day or so.”
“Is there something you might take in exchange for the ring?” Cadell asked, leaning back casually. Isles sat the Rubik’s Cube on his desk and looked directly at Cadell. “We are talking about Solomon’s ring. It is a legendary artifact and very, very powerful. I should, at the very least, demand something equally legendary and potentially as powerful.”
Cadell cocked his head slightly. “What would that be?” he asked.
A wicked smiled formed on Isles’ lips. “A sample of your blood,” he replied. “Shall we say an ounce?”
“No, we shall not say one ounce,” Cadell objected. “We shall say not one drop.”
“Come now,” Isles said, returning his attention back to the cube. “One ounce is not too much to pay for keeping the ring out of demonic hands.”
“From what I understand,” Cadell retorted, “my blood, if freely given, could potentially be as dangerous as the ring in the hands of a skilled magical practitioner, and you are one of the most skilled practitioners in the world.
&nb
sp; I’d have no way of knowing what you would use my blood for. My dad told me about the blizzard of ’78.”
Isles snorted. “I made a tiny miscalculation while summoning a frost giant. All of the Norse mythology that has been written has been from the Asgardian point of view. I merely wanted another perspective. Things just got
… a tad out of hand.”
Cadell laughed. “You didn’t summon one frost giant, you summoned all of the frost giants,” he reminded Isles. “It took my dad, my grandpa, all of my uncles and the Buckland family to help you put the cork back in the trans-dimensional bottle. The whole thing covered a dozen states with several feet of snow.”
“Do you really think I would be so careless again?” Isles asked.
“Honestly? I’d say that you’ve been the magical equivalent of the proverbial mad scientist and at least at times, you seem to have been, shall we say, far less concerned about what happens with one of your experiments as long as it’s spectacular and interesting.” Cadell replied.
Isles shrugged his shoulders while he twisted the Rubik’s cube. “Your father must have exaggerated the tales of my exuberance for my craft.”
Cadell shrugged. “Perhaps he did. In any event, I’m sorry, sir, but my blood is off the table,” he stated. “What else can we trade?”
“I’m afraid that I must insist upon your blood, freely given,” Isles declared. “I doubt that you, given your family’s overdeveloped sense of conscience, would part with any of the power objects in your possession.” “You will have to fight Blackwell to keep the ring.” Cadell repeated. “Along with God only knows how many Tainteds, a pretty powerful red-headed warlock, and whatever mage Blackwell found to cast Solomon’s location spell. Or you could just give my family the ring and save yourself all of that trouble.”
“What trouble?” Isles asked, growing frustration with the Rubik’s Cube evident in his voice. “You and your brothers may not try to take the ring from me by force, but you are obliged to keep the ring from falling into demonic hands. That means that you and your brothers will have no choice but to protect me in order to safeguard the ring.” He gestured to the two supernatural guards behind him. “So in addition to my bodyguards, whom I assure you are quite formidable, I shall have some of the best demon hunters in the world, including the seventh son of a seventh son of a Blessed family.
No,” Isles said, “I do believe I will retain possession of the ring. One day you might reconsider the trade we discussed. Until you do, however, I’m afraid that any further discussion would be a waste of time. My ‘man’ will see you out.”
“If that’s the way you want it,” Cadell assented, slowly approaching Isles’ desk. He took the Rubik’s Cube from Isles and twisted it four times before handing it, fully solved, back to Isles. “But remember that we tried to do this the easy way.”
Chapter Eight
Helen padded into the living room barefoot, clad in pink cotton pajamas and a powder-blue bathrobe. Even after sleeping for several hours, she looked weary and disheveled. Her hair was much flatter on one side of her head than the other and she had unflattering circles beneath eyes that were still heavy with drowsiness. Having stopped in the kitchen, she carried an oversized mug of coffee. She approached Brandell and Evelyn as they chatted over coffee near the fire. Brandell rose and guided Helen to one of the sofas.
“Girl, you look like death twice warmed over,” he observed. “We were going to let you sleep for at least another four hours.”
“No, Gramps,” Helen replied, “The boys will need me and Astrid won’t be able to help for another five or six hours.”
Evelyn appraised Helen and tilted her head. “No offense, but Brandell is right. Maybe you should get some more rest.”
Helen shook her head. “I put one of the pep-potions that Astrid taught me to make in my coffee. I’ll be fine in fifteen or twenty minutes. Red Bull may give you wings,” she declared, hoisting her mug, “but this shit gives you jet engines.”
Helen took a long drink from her coffee. “Where are the brothers? I can’t remember anything after the spell was cast.”
Brandell put a hand on her shoulder. “They went to a meeting with Edward Isles,” he told her.
“He had the ring?” Helen asked, concern for her adopted brothers suddenly overcoming her fatigue.
“Don’t worry,’ Evelyn assured Helen. “They called a few minutes ago and they’re fine. They couldn’t make a deal with Isles for the ring, so they’re staking out his house and waiting for Blackwell and his goons to try to take the ring from Isles, after which they’ll take it away from Blackwell.”
“I should get over there,” Helen said, getting off the sofa and looking at Evelyn. “Why aren’t you there already?” she asked.
“Cai wouldn’t let her go,” Brandell replied. “He didn’t want her anyway near Isles. That S.O.B. would know that she was a Seventh before she’d gotten within a mile of him. We have to keep her heritage a secret for as long as possible until she can really protect herself in the Trueworld.” He put hands on her shoulders again. “Now sit down and think. What will you be able to do at Isles’ house? You’re not a fighter; you’re a mage and a holistic healer. Josh still needs care and Astrid will need your help getting herself together when wakes up.”
“You’re right, Gramps,” Helen admitted. “Damn it!”
Brandell hugged her briefly and laughed. “Don’t let that red-headed temper get the best of you, young lady,” he admonished. “Sit down, finish your coffee and let that potion kick in. Then you should probably look in on Josh,” He directed. “It’s time for me to walk the dogs,’ he added, moving toward the door.
“I can do that for you, if you want,” Evelyn said.
“It’s pretty cold out there.”
Brandell held up a hand. “No, walking the dogs is as much for my exercise as for preventing the dogs from making a mess. Besides, you two probably want to talk without a stodgy old man around.”
“You’re just old,” Helen chided, grinning. “You’re not stodgy.”
Leo and Theo trotted into the room, each with a leash in his mouth. They sat at Brandell’s feet, tails wagging. “Okay, you two,” Brandell said to the German Shepherds, “up!”
The dogs both stood on their hind legs, and Brandell attached the leashes to their collars. “They don’t really need these things,” Brandell said to Evelyn. “But they’re big fellows and the neighbors get nervous if we don’t have them leashed.
Let’s go,” he said to the dogs. Leo and Theo trotted away at a pace that was comfortable to the elderly Brandell.
“Those aren’t normal dogs, are they?” Evelyn asked, looking to Helen, who was already visibly more alert.
“Well, we define normal differently in this household,” Helen replied, smiling slightly. “Let’s just say that Leo and Theo are smarter than the average pooch, by far.” She looked around the room briefly. “Where’s your aunt?” she asked.
Evelyn sighed. “She’s on the phone with Uncle Randal, trying to convince him to help us keep Solomon’s ring away from Blackwell. Brandell reached out to the Bucklands in New Orleans, and they’re sending help, but, with the weather what it is, it will be a day, at least, before they get here. Brandell says that the other Blessed families are too far away to get here in time.”
Helen sipped her coffee and nodded. “Since Blackwell’s warlock has been teleporting to and fro as he pleases, opening portals anywhere around Boston would be dangerous.”
“More dangerous than Blackwell getting the ring and turning seventy-two particularly nasty demons on the world?” Evelyn asked. “Couldn’t they risk one teleportation spell, given how bad the situation is?” “If the boundaries between the dimensions were ripped open, they could stay open and cause portals to dozens of other dimensions to open as well. Portals to the lower dimensions might even be opened. There are things a lot worse than the demons the ring could set loose.”
Evelyn shook her head. “My uncle knows what
we’re up against. He knows what the stakes are, and he just picked up all of his marbles and went home. He should be here helping and should have brought in all of my cousins, too. But he’s back in Philadelphia, pouting because he didn’t get his way. Maybe it’s a good thing that he never included me in his family.”
“He’s just honoring your mother’s dying wish,” Helen replied. “Maybe you should give him a break.” “No,” Evelyn said putting up a hand. “Honoring my mom’s wishes may have been why he didn’t tell me about the Blessed, but disowning me and Aunt Eve was just pure spite. He was pissed that we defied him, and he’s refusing to help us against Blackwell because we wounded his pride.”
Helen sipped her coffee again and looked at Evelyn with sympathy in her eyes. “I hope for his sake that you’re wrong about that. Refusing to help us because he’s keeping his word to your mother is one thing, but refusing to help for a selfish reason like pride would be neglecting the Blesseds’ Calling. A patriarch of a Blessed family who ignores the Calling would be punished by his family’s Archangel. That would be bad.”
“Then my uncle had better get with the program,” Evelyn said, “Because it looks like the Corey family angel is already pissed at him,” she added, holding up the palm where the mark of Camuel on her hand been replaced by Uriel’s sigil.
“I don’t think that that’s ever happened before,” Helen observed. “At least I’ve never heard of a Blessed going from serving one archangel to serving another.”
Evelyn shrugged. “Aside from the fact that my uncle wouldn’t let anyone in his family train me, I feel more at home here with all of you than I ever have before.” She leaned forward in her chair. “When we were all connected casting that locater spell, I could feel, I mean really experience, a part of the love you all have for one another. You all think of the others before thinking of yourselves. I’ve wanted to be a part of something like that all of my life. I hope I can earn the right to be a part of this family.”
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