BOUND IN BLUE

Book One of the Sword of Elements

Heather Hamilton-Senter

Two Paths Publishing

Gods walk among us.

All you have to do is See.

When Rhiannon discovers that beings out of myth and legend are real, her ability to see magic as color puts her at the center of a conflict with the ancient gods of Avalon. Her fate depends on mastering her power and using it to remake the Sword of Elements—once known as Excalibur—but if she succeeds, she could become far more dangerous than any god.

And gods don't like being challenged.

Copyright © 2014 by Heather Senter

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

Two Paths Publishing

www.twopathspublishing.com

Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes and have been fictionalized. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, or institutions, is completely coincidental.

Book Layout © 2014 BookDesignTemplates.com

Cover Design © 2014 BookCoverArtistry.com

Bound In Blue/ Heather Hamilton-Senter. -- 1st ed.

ISBN 978-0-9938225-1-3

To my family, eternally.

CHAPTER ONE

A mermaid found a swimming lad,

Picked him for her own,

Pressed her body to his body,

Laughed; and plunging down

Forgot in cruel happiness

That even lovers drown.

―William Butler Yeats

Fear is white and thickly veined with sea-blue.

I reached over the bed rail and touched Mom’s cheek. The industrial clock on the wall ticked once, loudly. Jerking my hand back, I rubbed the tips of my fingers against my jeans.

She was cold.

I reminded myself that her skin was always cool. Except for her black hair, everything about Mom was cool and pale, even her eyes.

They were cloudy now and staring at the ceiling. I couldn’t make myself close them the way people always do in movies. I couldn’t touch her again.

Gripping the sides of the chair as the color of fear washed over me again, I felt ashamed. The only thing Mom was ever afraid of was a man with silver hair. I saw him once when I was little, across a busy street. We were driving, but Mom stopped the car and pulled me down to the floor. As she held me close, the sound of her heart was a wave crashing against rocks.

Rhiannon, listen to me. We cannot be seen. Hide in the shadows and be still and silent.

As I listened to her, I imagined a blue shadow covering me, protecting me from whatever it was that she was afraid of. My own fear broke apart like ice on a churning ocean and the colors of all my emotions erupted out of me for the first time, dashing themselves against the blue like they were trying to break free. I wrapped the shadow closer and my colors calmed and dissipated. I wasn’t sure how much of that was a real memory, but the man didn’t see us.

I’d been seeing colors ever since.

I once tried to tell Mom about the colors I felt, but she just smiled and looked away. I didn’t try again. It would have been nice to talk with someone about it. I’m sure my colors would be a nice break for some psychiatrist bored with the usual budding Unabombers.

But fear is white and cold and veined in a wet and moldy blue that echoes the color of the hospital walls.

A sudden vibration made me jump and startled pink sparkled across my vision. Fumbling in my pocket, I nearly dropped my phone as I pulled it out. My fingers were as numb as if I’d pressed them against ice.

“How is she?”

It was Peter. I stared at the screen a moment before shoving the phone away. I couldn’t answer him. If I did, it would make the nightmare true.

The chair made a vicious scraping noise against the floor as I stood and I froze, heart pounding, imagining the corpse popping up like they do in bad horror movies. Of course, it didn’t move.

Mom didn’t move.

I backed away to the door to look for someone to come and tell me what I was supposed to do. The nurse on duty had left to give me time to say goodbye, but there wasn’t anything here to say goodbye to.

A woman walked past me into the room and strode up to the bed. She wasn’t young, maybe mid-thirties, but she was the most stunning person I’d ever seen. With a mass of dreadlocked, white-blonde hair, and wearing a skirt that looked like a cascade of expensive rags, she was Goth Barbie’s slutty older sister. Touching a black-lacquered finger to Mom’s forehead, the woman whispered, “Viviane, you stupid fool.”

“Hey!”

I couldn’t think of anything to say after that. Don’t call my dead Mommy stupid?

A strange impulse to laugh bubbled up inside me, but I shoved it back down and only a strangled squeak escaped.

Good thing. Laughing over the body of my dead mother might buy me a one way ticket to a psych eval.

The woman turned at the sound and seemed surprised to see me standing there. “You must be Rhiannon. We have never met, but my name is Morgan.” I stared at her and she gestured to the bed. “Viviane was my sister.”

I shook my head. “Mom didn’t have a sister.” The woman didn’t respond and a flash of violet impatience made me blink. “If you’re her sister, how come you didn’t come when she got sick? Why didn’t Mom even tell me about you?” Crackles of red across the violet surprised me—surprised me at how angry I was that I’d been forced to endure all this alone. A long-lost aunt would be a relief, but how could it be possible?

I glanced out the door to see if I could catch one of the nurses’ attention, but they seemed to be busy with some emergency down the hall.

The woman was still staring at me. Despite the eccentric clothing, she held herself straight and rigid with her chin lifted slightly and her arms held a little away from her sides like a ballerina.

Just like Mom.

“Why didn’t you come?” I whispered, hating the weakness in my voice.

The woman sighed and looked down at the bed. With a graceful motion, she brushed her fingers across Mom’s arm. “Viviane made her own choices—choices I knew would be her undoing. I saw no reason to force my witness upon them. Still, for the sake of the common cause that once bound us, and for the love I bear her still, I would have come if she had asked it of me. She never did. Any emotion felt for my sister was always a one-sided thing, and she was ever of her own mind.”

Morgan talked funny—strangely formal like Mom did—but this refugee from a heavy metal music video couldn’t be my aunt.

Because that would mean Mom lied to me.

Anger was coming in red streaks now and I walked over to the bedside table and reached for the emergency call button. In one swift movement, the woman was in front of me, grasping my hands hard enough for me to know that she could stop me if she wanted to.

“Do not be afraid. I mean you no harm.”

I pulled back and after a brief resistance, she let go. “I don’t know you,” I muttered.

Morgan raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Viviane and I have walked different paths for so long that we could no longer meet in the space between them, but I felt her passing. I would have taken her to rest where she belonged, in the free air under the moon. She shouldn’t have been here, hidden away from the sky.”

There was an accusation in her voice and my cheeks went hot. As we stared at each other, I saw that her eyes were pale—so pale you might think you were looking at a blind woman. I’d never seen anyone with eyes like that before.

Except Mom.

I slumped down into the chair by the bed. I’d been up all night waiting for the end. I didn’t have enough energy left to be suspicious.

After a few uneasy seconds of silence, the woman spoke and her voice was gentler. “What did they say was the cause?”

I shrugged. “Lupus. Maybe. The doctors weren’t sure. Some auto-immune thing that made her organs shut down one by one. They didn’t know how to stop it.”

“The doctors of this world are fools.”

I didn’t disagree. I rubbed my eyes, but they were dry and gritty, as if all the tears in them had turned to sand.

Morgan stiffened and made a hissing sound between her teeth. “Be still. Others are coming.” And then she walked up to me and poked me hard between the eyes.

“Hey!” I yelped. “What the hell?”

Morgan leaned in close. “Stay still. Be quiet. Do not move.” Familiar commands I couldn’t help but obey. Her fingernails dug into my shoulder as she pushed me down into the chair as if somehow she could make me sit more deeply and decidedly than I was already sitting.

Auntie Morgan is crazy.

And then the stream of truly crazy filed into the room.

A young woman sporting a red mohawk who shopped at the same stores Morgan did, but in the blisteringly neon department.

An older woman with a long braid of white hair wrapped around her waist like a belt.

A huge, dark-skinned man with a lip ring connected to a gold chain threaded through a piercing in his ear.

There were more, all as strange as the first three. A curious nurse peered into the room with wide eyes, but a glare from Morgan sent her away.

I was abandoned to the freak show.

Some of them touched Mom’s forehead with gentle fingers. A few whispered soft words to Morgan. I just sat there as they ignored me—as good as invisible—while the numbness spread from my fingers up into my body and the white of my fear went black and dirty on the edges like snow on the side of the street.

“Hello, Morgana,” an amused voice drawled. A good-looking guy leaned in the doorway and smiled at Morgan. Longish hair with a hint of ginger poked out from under a red baseball cap and he had the kind of five o’clock shadow that’s grown on purpose.

She didn’t smile back. “I prefer to be called Morgan now, as you well know, Thomas Redcap.” She made his name an insult.

The man’s smile widened. “Ah yes, you’re all modern and casual now. I’d heard. Love the outfit by the way. Did you join a band?” He sounded Irish or something. Miming a tip of his cap, he sauntered into the room and leaned forward as if to kiss her on the cheek.

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

He gave her a mocking bow.  “Well you can’t blame a lad for trying, Morgana the Fair and Perilous.” As he approached the bed and didn’t even glance in my direction, orange irritation crackled along the edges of my vision. It faded to grey shame when he closed Mom’s eyelids with gentle fingers.

“Poor Viviane,” he murmured. When he looked back at Morgan, his face was serious. “Do I have your leave to continue?”

She grimaced. “Get on with it.”

Redcap nodded and then quickly—so quickly I almost couldn’t understand what I was seeing—his hand shot out and a sharp fingernail dragged down Mom’s arm, peeling flesh from it in one long curl like the skin off an apple.

Horror cut through me like bright lightning and bile burned my throat. I tried to stand, but my legs were dead and the chair only moved a little across the floor. The man’s head shot up and I stared straight into amber eyes edged in red. Caught in those impossible eyes, I couldn’t breathe, until he frowned and his gaze wandered away as if he couldn’t see me at all. With a small shrug, he relaxed.

And then Redcap put the long strip of my mother’s skin into his mouth and ate it.

I tried to scream, but my voice had been ripped from my throat and the place on my forehead burned where Morgan had touched me. Wild, panicked colors surged through me as I imagined the skin on my face blackening and peeling away. I couldn’t move. I was frozen and incinerated all at once.

Stay still. Be quiet. Do not move.

I was obeying every command. As I stopped struggling against my invisible bonds, the pain faded.

Morgan shuddered delicately as she flipped the blanket on the bed to cover my mother’s arm. “I know your duty, Redcap, but I do not have to enjoy watching you perform it.”

A faint flush appeared on the man’s cheeks, but his face was sad. “Poor Viviane,” he repeated. “Her essence is in me now, but there are too many things missing, things which should have been preserved.”

Morgan looked at Mom with a strange expression on her face. “Viviane keeps her secrets then, even in death.”

Redcap snorted. “Secrets Cernunnos would pay dearly to know.”

She glided over to the man and though they were the same height, Morgan seemed to tower over him. “Will you search them out, Thomas Redcap?” she whispered, her mouth close to his, seductive and dangerous. “Will you sell what you find to the highest bidder?”

The man didn’t move, but his back was to me and I could see his muscles straining the fabric of his shirt across his shoulders—he was holding himself very, very still. “No, Morgana the Fair and Perilous, not even to you.”

She backed away, her eyes fixed on him like twin moons. “Then let us take our separate paths and be gone from this place.”

“Hey Rhi . . .” Peter poked his head into the room and I stood so fast that the chair skittered away and hit the wall. Whatever it was that had held me captive was gone.

I began to babble as I rushed over to my best friend. “Call the police! You need to call the police! That man, what he did, I can’t believe what he did . . .”

But I couldn’t find the words for what Thomas Redcap had done.

“Slow down. What are you talking about? What man?”

“Him!” I whirled and pointed. The room was empty except for the silent body of my dead mother.

And then all color in the world was gone and there was only black.

CHAPTER TWO

The light of the sun stabbed me through my closed eyelids and I knew I couldn’t hide in bed any longer. Bunching my thin quilt into a ball, I threw it across the room in the general vicinity of the laundry basket. It might have made it in too if the basket weren’t already overflowing with dirty clothes.

Pushing myself up, I rubbed my aching temples. Two months had passed since the day Mom died—since the day I fainted and hit my head—and the headaches from the concussion were a daily event. I winced as my feet touched the floor; all my nerves felt exposed. Purple irritation rushed across my sight and then, without warning, I was blinded by a spinning kaleidoscope of color. All the strength left my limbs and I fell off the bed onto the floor.

Normally my colors only appeared when my feelings were intense. I suspected I didn’t have much of an imagination either because they were predictable—pale blue for sadness, hot red for anger, and all the colors in between for the various shadings between those emotions. White was fear and black was despair, but usually everything was mixed up and confused without one color predominating. Over the years I’d become used to them slithering through my brain and streaking across my vision.

I wasn’t so used to them hitting me in my gut.

When my colors faded and I could see again, I used the bed to stand up, but sharp pain pulsed through my head at the movement. As vomit rose into my throat, I breathed slowly through my nose until my stomach settled.

After tottering into the shower and scalding my body back into submission, I felt better. Good thing because I had a hell of a day waiting for me. Mom could be pretty vague most of the time, but on some things she was crystal, even when she went all Wicca on me. As she got sicker, she made me promise to scatter her ashes at the lake by sunset of the third day after the next blue moon. She was that specific. This was the third day. It was also the first day of my last year of school, so, double whammy.

Picking through every piece of clothing I owned, even the dirty ones, I decided on white jeans, a striped t-shirt, and a navy cardigan. I hoped I looked nautical in a cute way, not a Popeye kind of way.

As if anyone would ever notice.

I was dragging a brush through my hair when there was one knock at the door, a slam, and then the sound of my battered couch groaning under the weight of a six-foot teenage boy.

“Oh, by all means, let yourself in,” I called as I gave up trying to force my hair into a sleek ponytail.

“Blah, blah . . . what was that? Couldn’t hear you!” Peter already had the TV on and was channel surfing when I came out of the bedroom, something he would have never dared to do while Mom was alive.

“What could possibly be worth watching before eight in the morning?”

Peter grinned. “There’s always sports on somewhere. Besides, I’ve been up for ages. I’m already bored out of my mind waiting for you to get ready.”

“You’ve only been here three minutes, jerk.” I tossed a pillow at his face, but he caught it and put it behind his head.

“Yeah, but when you have a high metabolism like mine, three minutes is actually like three hours.”

“What stupid comic book did you learn that one from?”

“Hey, graphic novels are an art form.”

“Sure they are. And the superbabes in skintight onesies have nothing whatsoever to do with your art appreciation.” I put my hand up just in time to block the pillow that sailed back at me.

Laughing, I crossed to the tiny kitchen facing the living room and opened the door of my ancient, avocado green fridge. The bare bulb flickering at the back couldn’t hide the fact that my only options were a can of diet soda, a carton of milk way past its expiration date, and a shriveled apple. Or maybe it was a plum.

I sighed. I’d have to rely on take-out again if I didn’t want to starve. I was sure I’d picked up groceries on the weekend, but ever since the concussion, I sometimes got mixed up in my days. That seemed to bother the doctor at the clinic a lot more than my headaches did. I almost thought I could see the canary yellow of his concern.

I didn’t go back. I didn’t need to start seeing colors for other people too.

Slamming the door and giving up on breakfast, I pushed Peter’s feet away as I plopped down on the other end of the couch. From the day we met when we were three years old, Peter and I were soul mates of the non-romantic variety. We did experiment with kissing once when we were twelve, but it was awful and we promised each other to never try it again. Luckily for Peter Larsen, being a handsome, blond, star athlete—with just enough nerd in him to be interesting—meant getting many more chances to find a compatible kissing partner.

For mostly invisible me, not so much.

I grabbed the remote so I could check the time on the channel guide. “We should go in five.”

Peter grabbed it back and continued clicking through the channels. “Lots of time. How’s your head today?”

Peter’s constant concern was beginning to get on my nerves. My memory of the day Mom died was messed up. I could remember the awful moment when the rattling sound of her breathing stopped, but not much after that. I couldn’t even remember Peter coming to the hospital. He tried to catch me when I passed out, but I hit my head on the bed rail and was unconscious for ten minutes. It took ten stitches to close the gash inside my hairline and I spent the night in the hospital for observation. Peter seemed to think it was somehow his fault I’d fainted like a tragic heroine in a Victorian novel. All summer he’d treated me like I might break apart into pieces at any moment.

“It’s OK,” I lied.

“So, today’s the day, right?” Click, click, click.

I took the remote and turned the TV off. “Yup.” We both stared at the blank screen.

The couch shook as Peter slapped his knees. “Right, let’s do this then.” Taking me by the hands, he hauled me to my feet so fast I nearly fell. “Are you ready for the best year of our lives?”

Amber flared on the edges of my vision. “I’m ready,” I lied again.

Gathering my things, I followed Peter outside. I didn’t bother locking the door—the giant weeds surrounding the yellow stucco and green roofed house were proof that nothing was worth stealing inside. I scuffed my shoe at a vine that was beginning to creep onto the bottom step. Windfield Farm’s gardens were beautiful until Mom got sick.

I wondered if the Larsens would hire someone to replace her. The thought hurt. I doubted it though. Peter’s great-grandfather had established the stud farm in the Twenties and many famous racehorses had been born and trained here, but its glory days were over. There were still a few horses on the property, but Peter’s parents had begun selling the land off to developers and a new subdivision was growing behind the barns. I hated the thought, but I knew the city that had been creeping in for years would soon pounce and gobble the whole place up.

Mom had talked her way into living in a guesthouse in exchange for maintaining the gardens, but even then there were fewer and fewer visiting celebrities of the racing world to impress. I’d realized pretty young that our little house was basically charity from the Larsens. Now they were my guardians. I loved them a lot and had always spent most of my free time up at the main house with Peter, so nothing much had changed. I paid for my few expenses out of the little bit of money Mom had saved from her small salary.

I got into Peter’s car and we drove past the main house and out the wrought iron gate that led to the city road. A few minutes later and we were pulling into the student lot at our school—Eastdale High, home of the Screaming Eagles.

“C’mon, c’mon,” Peter muttered as he honked the horn at the car in front of us trying to navigate the broken concrete parking lot.

“What’s with you?”

“I’m meeting some of the guys before class. We’re working on how to get some intel on O’Neil’s team before the first game.”

Peter’s excitement was proof that our high school experiences had been vastly different. He had a ton of friends and the never-ending football rivalry with O’Neil, the school across town.  I associated school with the nervous mustard yellow crawling under my eyelids that matched our hideous school colors perfectly. Our team jerseys were bad enough, but our cheerleaders had the worst of it. In their teeny yellow and black striped skirts, they looked like cold bumblebees. That’s how I thought of them even out of uniform.

We parked and Peter paused with his hand on the door handle. “You know, I could go with you. It's going to be hot and the Celica’s AC doesn’t work. Dad’s truck would be better on the dirt road too.”

“It's OK. I think it’s something Mom would want me to do alone. Thanks though.”

He nodded. “You’ll feel better once it's over.”

“Yeah.” I got out of the car, and as we walked towards the school, I put my arm around his waist and gave him a quick hug. Some of the cheerleaders were lingering at the entrance, giving Peter flirtatious smiles. He was a big favorite with all the girls at school. He treated them like ladies, even the ones whose reps were more like ladies of the evening. I knew I was lucky to have such a great guy as my best friend and I hugged him again.

Go ahead, Bumblebees, stare.

But it was him they were looking at, not me.

Our lockers were on different floors and Peter ruffled my hair before bounding up the stairs. I felt a splash of crimson that almost immediately disappeared—I could never stay mad at him for long.

Hurrying into the nearest bathroom to check on the damage, I smoothed my hair down and then paused, surprised. Someone came in and brushed past me as they went over to the farthest sink and turned on the water, but I couldn’t drag my eyes away from the girl in the mirror. Rhiannon Lynne was such a fancy name that I’d always felt more comfortable with Rhi—short and sweet—but the girl who gazed back at me could actually pass as a Rhiannon. Her hair was long and wild and forgotten trips to the grocery store had produced a face that was sharp and defined. Her eyes were smoky grey and mysterious.

A wave of dizziness passed over me and I grabbed the sink to keep from falling. Head swimming, I looked at the girl in the mirror again and had the strangest feeling that she was the real Rhiannon and I was some pale copy—an imposter. Her eyes darkened with fury and I knew I had to hide before she could find me and punish me for taking her place. White fear blossomed and I heard my mother’s voice.

Rhiannon, listen to me. We cannot be seen. We must be small, so very small together. Hide, Rhiannon, hide. Hide in the shadows and be still and silent.

I closed my eyes and imagined a blue shadow covering me—a barrier between me and the fear. After a moment, the tension flowed out of me into the deep, soft blue and I was calm again.

“Hey, how’d you do that?”

A slap of yellow and I opened my eyes, blinking at the fluorescent lighting; I’d forgotten where I was.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, but that was fairly impressive.” A petite girl in a black mini tutu and baby doll top was observing me with a crooked smile. Her black hair was punctuated by two white stripes caught up in ponytails above her ears and she stared at me with almond-shaped eyes thickly lined in black.

“What?” I asked stupidly.

“You know, how you were there and then, poof . . . .” She waved her fingers in the air. “And then you came back.” She tilted her head and frowned. “Maybe not all the way though. What’s the trick?”

I hadn’t had a lot of practice responding to questions and I certainly didn’t know how to answer this one. When I didn’t respond, the girl shrugged and pulled an eyeliner pencil out of a battered leather bag. “Forget it.” She began to darken the winged lines around her eyes.

I glanced at the mirror and was relieved to recognize the face looking back—not a Rhiannon, just a Rhi.

The mind plays tricks when it’s been bashed up a bit.

I pushed open the door to leave, but when I glanced back, the black-haired girl was leaning on the sink smirking at me.

Warning yellow trailed between us like ribbons.

CHAPTER THREE

After the final bell rang, I trudged to my locker and dumped my books into it. The rest of the day had been just like every day—I was still Eastdale’s own invisible girl.

I bet no one would notice me even if I walked naked into the cafeteria and started playing the ukulele. While tap dancing.

It was a running joke between Peter and me. I knew I wasn’t literally invisible—I wasn’t crazy—but being seen and being seen were two different things. When I was younger and very shy, it was a relief when someone’s eyes would pass over me or go distant when I spoke.

Now it’s just annoying.

I hadn’t even managed to collect a dirty look from Lacey McInnis. It was almost disappointing. Head cheerleader, the top of our class, the lead in all the plays, and the most popular girl in school—Lacey was basically a walking, talking cliché. Dirty blonde and ten pounds heavier than was ideal on someone only five foot two, she still entranced everyone she met. They loved her and she loved them back.

Except me. She hated me.

Because our last names were so close in the alphabet, our lockers always ended up next to one another. Unlike the rest of the student body, Lacey was painfully aware of me, but today she was preoccupied. She and another Bumblebee were watching a knot of students at the end of the hall with Peter at the center.

Lacey adjusted her ponytail. “They’re supposed to be brothers, but they don’t look much alike so I’m not sure. And there’s a new girl too. She’s . . . interesting.” I guessed she was talking about Bathroom Girl. As if conjured by Lacey’s words, the girl came around the corner, her skirt hiked up to the very limits of public decency. She smirked at me as she passed and the yellow ribbons were back.

“Wow,” Lacey mouthed.

Peter had detached someone from the group and was steering him our direction. Lacey straightened and looked up hopefully, but Peter was watching Bathroom Girl and walked past without noticing. Flushing, she glared at me and dragged the other Bumblebee down the hall.

Bingo. All’s right with the world again.

“Hey Rhi, this is Daley. He’s new. Daley, this is my best friend, Rhiannon Lynne.”

“Ow!” I jumped away from the wall of metal lockers as static sparked across my arm. My cheeks went hot.

Great first impression, Rhi. He’s going to think you have Tourette’s. That’s if he even remembers you at all.

Daley was tall and lean, and his sandy hair, dark blue eyes, and straight jaw all added up to movie star gorgeous. His face was hard though; he didn’t look like he belonged in high school. Around his neck he wore a strangely feminine necklace—an aquamarine stone in silver filigree. As he stared at me, mauve unease gathered along the edges of my vision. I felt exposed.

I change my mind. I’m just fine being a naked, ukulele-playing tap dancer that no one notices.

I forced myself to speak. “Aren’t you kind of old to be a senior?” It was the first thing that popped into my head. Hearing the stupid words out loud, I could have cheerfully kicked myself.

Finely arched brows pinched into a frown. “We move a lot because of our dad’s work.” He paused as if he was thinking over his answer carefully.  “I need to pick up some classes before I can graduate.”

I nodded. Daley stared at me. I stared back. It took me a moment to realize he was actually expecting me to respond. I normally followed along in whatever conversation Peter was involved in, nodding and interjecting occasionally. No one usually bothered responding so my contribution to the discussion ended there.

I’d heard the expression before, but never actually seen anyone’s eyes glaze over with boredom before. Turning, Daley called down the hall, “Hey Ty, come here!” Relieved of the pressure of his gaze, I blinked and my colors disappeared.

The guy who approached us was big—almost scary big—but he had young face and dark hair a bit on the shaggy side.

Sexy shaggy, not shaggy dog shaggy. I give it a week before the Bumblebees abandon Peter and start stalking this guy.

“This is my brother Tynan. Ty, meet Peter Larsen and Rhiannon Lynne.” Daley gave our full names the way adults do when they introduce people.

Daley’s brother brushed the hair out of his eyes and smiled shyly. “Hi.”

Peter grabbed his hand and began shaking it; the Larsens were big on proper etiquette. “Man, you’re huge! Have you ever played football before? We could use someone like you.”

Tynan shook his head. “We might not be in town long. Dad’s work moves us around.” He looked at me and smiled. “You have a pretty name. Do you know your genealogy?”

It took a moment for the startled pink starbursts to clear. “What?”

Tynan launched into a string of enthusiastic sentences. “Your family history. Where you come from. Rhiannon is Gaelic. I speak Gaelic—a little bit anyway. Your name means Great Queen so I thought maybe you might be Irish or Welsh. That’s what we are. Welsh, I mean. That’s how I know. Rhiannon’s a figure in Celtic mythology and there’s even a cool song about her. Lynne is Gaelic too. It means ‘lake’. What are your parents called?”

Peter and I shared a look and I could tell he was trying not to laugh. Tynan had gone from zero to sixty in five seconds flat. Peter might find it amusing, but it was making my head ache.

I change my mind about this whole talking to people thing.

“My mom was Viviane Lynne,” I said finally.

Tynan’s eyes widened. “Really! That’s the same name as the Lady of the Lake in Arthurian myth. Your mom’s name literally means ‘Viviane of the Lake’. Where was she born?”

He’s so excited. It makes me feel bad that I want to punch him in the mouth to make him shut up.

“Rhi’s mom died a couple of months ago,” Peter said quietly when I didn’t answer.

Tynan hunched his back as if he could somehow make himself smaller. “I’m sorry,” he said very quietly as he stuck his hands in his pockets and bent his head so his hair shadowed his cheeks.

I shrugged. “It’s OK.”

“Your mother’s name was Viviane Lynne?” Daley interrupted, staring at me with weird intensity. I almost gasped out loud when the light caught his eyes funny, almost as if something bright had streaked across them.

My mouth was dry and I had to swallow before I could answer. “Yes. Why?”

He blinked and turned away. “Nothing,” he muttered. “We should go soon, Ty.” Daley strode down the hall and out the back door.

Tynan didn’t seem to realize his brother had left him there alone. “I’m really, really sorry, Rhiannon.”

Bright red swirled with purple swamped my vision as his concern ignited equal parts anger and irritation. “It’s OK!” I snapped. Tynan stiffened and Peter looked at me in surprise.

So this is why nobody ever talks to me—I’m a bitch.

“It’s OK,” I repeated in a softer tone and smiled to hide the lie. “But don’t call me Rhiannon. It’s just Rhi.”

Tynan brushed his hair out of his eyes and smiled back shyly. “I think Rhiannon suits you.”

I was grateful for the change of subject when Peter jerked his chin down the hall. “Hey, Ty, do you know that girl?”

Lacey and some of the Bumblebees had surrounded Bathroom Girl and seemed to be trying to engage her in conversation. Even from where we stood, it was obvious that Bathroom Girl couldn’t care less.

Tynan’s smile faded. “Yeah.”

“Can you introduce us?”

When Tynan hesitated, I decided to help Peter out. “Me too. We met this morning, but I didn’t get her name.”

“Sure, c’mon,” Tynan agreed and we followed him down the hall. Bathroom Girl raised her eyebrows but didn’t comment when we approached.

Lacey looked grateful for a new and more appreciative audience. I doubted she was used to anyone being as obviously unimpressed with her as Bathroom Girl was. “You’re Tynan, right? Where have you been hiding?” Lacey asked brightly, ignoring me and Peter.

“I was just getting to know Rhiannon.”

Lacey blinked. “You mean Rhi.”

“I mean Rhiannon.” Tynan smiled as if we shared a secret.

Lacey tried to smile too, but her jaw was clenched so tight I almost felt sorry for her. She was the only person in the entire school who was even vaguely aware of me most of the time, probably because she was crazy about Peter and saw me as an obstacle to getting him. They’d been out a few times, but he just wasn’t into her. To Lacey, that was unacceptable. In her mind, I was the real problem.

Tynan gestured to Bathroom Girl. “Miko, this is Rhiannon and Peter.”

Before the girl could speak, Peter grabbed her hand and began shaking it up and down like he was pumping for water. “Hi!”

“Hi.” She retrieved her hand and began twirling one of her ponytails.

“How was your first day?”

“Fine.”

“How long have you been in town? I can show you around if you want. There’s a few cool places.”

Miko didn’t look like the kind of girl who needed any help finding the cool places, but she surprised me. “OK,” she said with a crooked smile.

“Yeah?”

“Sure.”

Monosyllabic must be the new black.

Peter was grinning and I felt another unexpected flash of sympathy for Lacey as she wandered away with the Bumblebees. Peter never even noticed.

“We could go now, if you want. Unless there’s somewhere else you have to be.”

Instead of answering, Miko turned to me. “Are you coming?”

All the unexpected attention was beginning to wear on me and I was glad I had an excuse to bow out. “Sorry, I can’t. I’ve got to be somewhere soon.”

“Maybe we could all do something together this weekend,” Tynan said.

It took a moment to process that someone was asking me to make weekend plans. “Sure, that’d be great.”

Daley opened the door and reappeared. “C’mon, we’ve got to get going. Dad wants us home right away.”

“We’ve got to go,” Tynan parroted his brother as he walked around me to join him. They stood silhouetted in the doorway and it was true what Lacey said: they were nothing alike. Tynan was hot, but beside Daley, he seemed unfinished somehow. I rubbed my arms as they prickled with static electricity again.

“Are you coming?” Daley asked Miko, but she shook her head. A nod from him and a quick wave from Tynan and they were gone, the door slamming shut behind them.

Miko was watching me. “They’re not real brothers,” she said as if she could tell what I was thinking. “More like foster brothers. It’s Taliesin’s thing; he picks up strays. Me included, I guess.”

“Who’s Taliesin?” The name rolled off my tongue, strange but somehow familiar.

“Their father.” She air quoted the word father.

Peter was as confused as I was. “So you’re their foster sister?”

Miko snorted. “No.”

“But you came here with them?”

The girl shrugged. “I stay with them, so when they move, I do too. We move around a lot.”

So they all keep saying.

CHAPTER FOUR

Impatience was crimson, yellow, and grey all twisted together into one butt-ugly mix.

Stuck in the back with an enormous sports bag that reeked of an entire summer of forgotten gym clothes, I was forced to endure Peter’s scenic route home. Oshawa was nice enough, but every minute spent driving past a local tourist trap to impress the new girl was a minute less I had to get to the lake before sunset.

When Peter finally pulled up in front of my little house, I didn’t wait for them to pull away before rushing inside. Throwing everything I thought I might need into my purse, I retrieved the urn with Mom’s ashes from the top shelf of the book case.

I’d expected the funeral director to give me something more like a vase—I had vague memories of seeing a movie where a rich man’s ashes sat above the fireplace while his heirs fought over his money until they were killed off one by one—but this was a wood box with a gold latch. When Mom got sick, she made all the arrangements without telling me.

I put the urn in my purse and took it out to my car where I set it on the passenger seat and fastened the belt over it. With the air conditioning not working, a lifetime of nightmares awaited me if I somehow managed to lose my mother’s ashes out the open window.

Two hours later, I parked at the top of the steep path that led down to the cottage Mom had rented every summer since I was eight. I’d picked up the key from the rental agency on the way, but when I tried the front door, it was unlocked. The place was so secluded that security wasn’t a problem.

I stepped inside and put my purse down on the kitchen table, disturbing a thick layer of dust that made my nose itch. In the main room nothing had changed—two plaid couches, a coffee table with a couple of coasters propping up one leg, a small box of a TV that got one channel, and a bookcase made out of planks of wood and old bricks. There was a faint smell of mildew. Anemic light filtered through the curtains and an intermittent brushing sound could have been the scratching of mice in the walls or the fluttering of bats inside the crumbling fireplace. The door leading to one of the bedrooms was partly open.

I had the strongest feeling something was hiding behind it and watching me.

Citrine swept through me. Grabbing my things, I hurried back out into the sunshine. Skidding a little on the grassy path, I ran down the hill to the water’s edge and then stopped and looked back. The cottage was the same as it had always been—a clapboard building with cracked windows and curtains with faded strawberries on them.

The stain of my emotion faded, but there was no way I was going back inside.

Slipping off my sandals, I stepped onto the long dock that jutted out from the shore. As I passed out of the shadow of the trees, I squinted at the gold glare of the early evening sun bouncing off the lake. The lake was small but deep, and only a few feet from shore you couldn’t see the bottom, just fallen trees stretching into the wet darkness like an ancient shipwreck.

Pushing my purse into the center of the dock, I lay down at the edge with my stomach pressed against the warm wood and peered into the water. When I was little, I used to pretend the drowned trees were the entrance to an underwater kingdom. I would dive in and try to reach them, but always got spooked halfway and had to swim back up.

Mom loved the water. On warm nights, we would sit on the dock in silence, watching the reflection of the stars in the lake and the turning of the moon. Now all that was left of her was going to be mingled in the water and maybe even the very air. Mom never asked me what I wanted—if I wanted her to be buried rather than cremated. She didn’t even tell me she was sick until almost the end. The tears in my eyes burned away in the rise of a red emotion.

It’s not fair.

I batted at the water just to see it disturbed, but stopped when I noticed the reflection of something moving towards me. For a moment, I thought the color of my anger had taken shape.  Fishing the object out of the lake as it drifted into reach, I held up a red baseball cap.

“Hello! I almost didn’t see you there.” A man in a canoe glided towards me. As he approached the dock, he back-paddled fast and bumped against it lightly. He held out his hand and it took me a moment to realize he was reaching for the hat. I handed it to him and he put it back on. Between the gold light bouncing off the water and the shadow of the brim of his cap, I couldn’t get a good look at him.

The man placed his paddle across his knees and put his hand on the dock to keep the canoe from drifting. “Thanks. I burn something wicked without a hat.”

I got to my feet and backed away as I pretended to brush off my clothes. I’d never seen the man before and there was only a handful of cottages on the lake. “How did you lose it?”

“Well, that’s a wee bit embarrassing. I was getting hot, so I took it off for a minute and managed to knock it out of the canoe with the paddle. Every time I got close, the water whisked it away. I guess it prefers the company of pretty girls.” He winked at me, and while it seemed like a friendly wink and not a pervy one, I hadn’t been winked at enough to be sure. Or ever.

“Are you visiting?”

“Sorry?”

“You don’t sound like you come from here originally. I thought maybe you were on vacation or something . . .” I trailed off lamely.

“Ah,” he said, nodding in understanding. “I’m Scottish. Originally.” He winked at me again and my cheeks went hot. “But I haven’t been back for so long I’d probably sound out of place there too. I had a powerful urge to go somewhere green and quiet, so I found myself here.” He sighed. “It reminds me of home.”

The man in the canoe bobbed up and down as he gazed at the high hills stretching up from the lake. He was nice—and kind of hot for an older guy—but I was discovering that despite what I’d always wished, being noticed all the time was exhausting. Hoping he would wander away and simply forget he’d ever seen me like most people did, I looked out into the water.

And saw something strange.

A large fish was slipping in and out of the drowned trees, but I’d never seen anything bigger than a sunfish in the lake before. The pale shape was difficult to track and I kept squinting from the sun on the water and losing sight of it. I edged closer. It was really too big to be a fish. Maybe it was a piece of sail from a boat. I discarded that idea when the shape changed direction and started coming towards me. It couldn’t be, but it looked like a person, and I realized the sparkling yellow almost blinding me wasn’t from the sun after all.

Holy crap, there’s a naked girl in the lake.

She had light hair parted in the middle and pulled back from an oval face, and while she was definitely moving, her pale arms and legs hung limp. She was like a fish being reeled up on a hook.

Even though yellow worry and white fear warned me not to, I leaned out over the water to see. It wasn’t until the girl was a few inches below the surface that I realized I was staring at the fixed expression, closed eyes, and slightly smiling mouth of a corpse.

“Get back!” the man yelled just as waxy, wet arms surged to life and grabbed me by the ankles.

I overbalanced and hit the lake in a painful belly flop. Cold hands pulled me down deep and fast. Flailing in panic, blinded by florescence, I broke loose. Pain exploded in my knee as it connected with a jagged branch on one of the drowned trees; I’d finally made it to my underwater kingdom.

Kicking hard, I reached for the surface, but when my fingertips touched air, I stopped. The girl—the thing—had my legs again. As I struggled against its grip, my foot hit something soft and yielding. Looking down, I saw that the water-filled skin on the creature’s face was now dented and loose. Stomach heaving, I exhaled precious breath. I was going to be forced to breathe in water. Color faded as a voice in my head promised to take me down to the place that erased all light and hid all sorrows in the deep dark.

I opened my mouth.

There was a flurry of motion around me and my legs were suddenly free. Strong hands grabbed me under my arms and pushed me up out of the water. Clutching the edge of the dock, I pulled myself onto it, coughing and spewing. The man from the canoe hauled himself up beside me. “Are you all right?” he asked when he caught his breath.

“Did . . . did you see that?”

The man—who had somehow managed to keep his cap on—didn’t answer as he got to his feet and looked out over the water. “L'Inconnue de la Seine, you are far from home and this place is too small for you. Go and find deeper channels and leave the children of the land alone!”

I noticed he kept back from the edge, even though his canoe was upside down and sinking. The sun dropped behind the hills and when the stranger turned back to me, I could see his face clearly for the first time.

His eyes were amber and rimmed in red.

“Thomas Redcap,” I whispered and the name unlocked the gate to my memories. “Mom,” I whispered again as I remembered everything. I’d been saved from that creature in the water by a monster.

The man stared at me and when he spoke, his accent was stronger. “Since I saved your life, I don’t mind us being on a first name basis, but what do you know of a redcap?” He said it like it was a thing, not a name. “It's strange you should be attacked by L’Inconnue, a creature of the old world. Stranger still that I should feel compelled to come here at all. What are you, then? A little bana-bhuidseach meddling in powers too big for herself?” His shadow blocked the setting sun.

The sun!

Scrambling to my feet, I pulled the urn out of my purse and fumbled to unlatch the lid. It released with a soft click, but then I hesitated. What if that thing down there was waiting for me to throw the ashes, scattering them like fish food for her pale mouth to gobble up?

One glimpse of the sky told me I had to decide fast. Hoping I was doing the right thing, I opened the lid and heaved the urn into the air as high and as far as I could. The dying rays of the sun flashed off the metal latch as the box dropped into the lake and sank out of sight.

“Viviane!” Thomas Redcap cried.

Searing pain assaulted me and for the second stupid time in two stupid months, everything went completely black.

CHAPTER FIVE

It was cold. A tight band restrained me around the waist and my knee was sore and hitting against something hard.

“So we’re awake now, are we?”

There was a flash of dazzling white terror, but then my eyes adjusted to the gloom and I was able to see and think again. I was cold because my clothes and hair were damp and the air-con of the Celica was pumping out frosty air into my face. I was wearing my seat belt and my knee was knocking against the door on the sore spot where it had connected with the tree in the lake. Moving my legs a bit, I could feel my purse and sandals on the floor at my feet.

There was still a faint glow on the horizon and I could see quite clearly that Thomas Redcap was driving my car.

I pushed myself up out of my slumped position. “What did you do to me?”

Redcap chuckled. “Sorry love, but don’t blame me. You went down like a stone. It's lucky for both of us I caught you before you fell back in the lake. I bundled you up in here to take you home.”

Anger mixed with fear was a surprising pale persimmon. “How do you know where I live? Have you been stalking me?”

“I checked your wallet for your address. You know, I’m getting a little offended at being treated like the villain here. After all, five minutes with you and I end up tussling with L'Inconnue de la Seine, and that’s someone I’d rather stay clear of, thank you very much. And then you repay my gallantry by throwing Viviane’s bloody ashes into the bloody lake! So what I want to know is who the hell are you and what do you want from me?” His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were white.

I remembered those hands. I remembered everything. “I saw what you did, you psycho! You . . . you . . . defiled my mother’s body! You ate her skin!” Remembering it made my stomach heave and I forced myself to breathe slowly through my nose. How could I have forgotten what this man did to her?

“What are you talking about?” I was thrown hard against the passenger door as Redcap swerved off the road and skidded onto the soft shoulder.

“My mother!”

“Your mother? Are you talking about Viviane?”

“Of course I am! I’m Rhiannon Lynne. And quit changing the subject! I saw you! I was there when you did it, only . . . I didn’t remember until now. . .”

Well that sounds lame.

Redcap took off his hat and tossed it on the dash. “Morgan put you up to this. She’s trying to ferret out Viviane’s secrets.”

Morgan. Goth Barbie’s slutty older sister.

“Morgan’s my aunt,” I said as I remembered that too.

A bark of hard laughter. “Sweet Auntie Morgan—do you expect me to buy that?”

“That’s what she told me. She said she was Mom’s sister.”

“Viviane and Morgan are sisters all right, but that doesn’t say anything about you. Maybe I should just turn you over to the police and let them sort it out. Was it some kind of prank? See if you could steal something valuable and dump it?”

“I was there. I saw you take Mom’s skin and eat it!” I pressed on. “You called Morgan ‘Morgana the Fair and Perilous’, which ticked her off.  You said some guy named Kernoonos wanted to know the things Mom had hidden. I was there!”

Redcap drew a long breath. “So the walls did have ears that day, though I would never have guessed it was you, mo leanabh. Morgan hid you well. Or perhaps you did it yourself, eh? I didn’t see you at the lake until I was right on top of you.”

“Maybe you were too busy doing something else like, I don’t know, eating my dead mother’s skin, you pervert!”

The man slammed the palm of his hand hard against the steering wheel. It reminded me I was trapped in a car on a lonely road with someone I was very sure was completely and totally dangerous.

And I mouthed off at him and called him a psycho. Haven’t I watched enough movies to know you never, ever tell the villain you’re on to him?

His voice was low and soft. “Don’t make the mistake of comparing me to a common flesh-eater. I’m the last of my kind. I preserve the Great Ones of my race when they pass on. I have within me something essential of Viviane herself. Because of what I did, she will never be lost to us.”

I stared at him without responding while I calculated the odds of getting to the phone in my bag before he could stop me.

Redcap sighed and shook his head. “All right then, I don’t know why I care, but I’ll prove it to you.” He scratched at the shadow of his beard. “About nine years ago, Viviane was careless. She’d been keeping a low profile, but thought she was finally safe. On a whim, she decided to go to the movies for the first time. She’d never had much interest before, but someone—a child— had been pestering her to go.” He paused. “It was you. I can see you through her eyes. You look happy.” He snorted. “Skinny too. And in need of a hairbrush. Anyway, not long after the movie started, Viviane had a strong feeling of danger.”

I thought of the silver-haired man. I’d only seen him that one time, but I knew Mom was always watching for him.

Redcap whistled through his teeth. “She was afraid. I can see it in her face. I can feel the echo of it inside me. I would never have thought Viviane would be afraid of anything. She dragged you out.” He paused and frowned. “She said something to you, something I can’t quite capture.” I remembered.

Rhiannon, listen to me. We cannot be seen. Hide in the shadows and be still and silent.

The man cocked his head and snorted as if he could see it all on the windshield in front of him. “The way you’re glaring at her, well, let’s just say that few in this world have ever dared to look at Viviane that way. The next morning, she went to a bakery and brought back something to leave on your nightstand for when you woke up . . . something small . . .”

“A french macaron,” I whispered.

“Yes, that’s it. She knew the confection was your favorite, but there was still so much she didn’t understand—like why the movie with its sound and light and laughing children was even important to you. I can feel she wanted to make you happy—that she tried—but she didn’t know how. You were a creature she never truly understood.”

My eyes filled with tears. “How do you know all this? Did she tell you?”

“I hadn’t seen or even heard of Viviane in an age of the world. She is in me now.”

I rubbed my eyes. “Right, you ate her skin and now you know everything she ever did. Do you think I’m stupid?”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “Perhaps, since it seems you have no idea whatsoever who Viviane was. Maybe there’s a land where the spirits of my kind dwell after death, but I keep some part of them here in this world, within myself.”

“That’s crazy!”

Redcap didn’t respond. Shifting the car into gear with a jerk that rattled the windows, he drove back onto the road. Shivering, I switched off the AC with a snap. Had he fixed it? It was a reassuring thought that maybe he wasn’t planning on raping and murdering me if he’d gone to the trouble of fixing my car.

Maybe he just really likes my car.

I contemplated the man. Except for his eyes, he seemed normal: handsome, well-dressed, older. How much older, it was difficult to tell. Not as much as I’d originally thought. I couldn’t pin down anything exact about him at all.

And I have to admit if you ignore the whole eating my mom’s skin thing, he’s been a perfect gentleman.

“I guess I should thank you for saving me from that thing in the lake. And for driving me home too.” A thought occurred to me. “How will you get your own car back?”

“I don’t have a car.”

That’s weird.

“And you’re welcome. For the air-conditioning too, I might add.”

“You did fix it! Why?”

Redcap was silent for so long that I didn’t think he was going to answer. “I don’t like broken things,” he said finally.

We drove for a while in silence and I began to relax a little. “So what was that thing at the lake? You called it a name—Connie something.”

“L'Inconnue de la Seine,” he corrected.

“Whatever. What was it?

He shrugged. “A story. A legend. In the 1880's, a girl’s body was found in the river Seine in Paris. A common enough result of either murder or suicide, but this one was strange. She wasn’t decayed and bloated as she should have been after her time in the water, and she’d drowned with a smile on her lips. Touched by her beauty, someone at the morgue made a plaster cast of her face.” He chuckled. “More touched by the desire to make a buck or two, he began selling copies. In a few years the girl’s death mask was a common decoration on the walls of the living rooms of Europe. Do you know CPR?”

“I had a demonstration during a baby-sitting course.”

A waste of time since no one’s ever called me up and asked me to baby-sit their kid.

“Then you’ve seen her before. The man who invented the CPR dummy used her face as his inspiration.”

“That’s creepy, but it doesn’t explain anything.”

“Doesn’t it mo leanabh? There will always be foolish romantics ready to fall in love with beautiful dead things.”

“But it was real!”

Redcap glanced at me before returning his attention to the road. “Of course it was real. Fools who worship objects never stop to think about the power they’re giving them. But then, how could they know the body they dredged from the river was a goddess.”

“A goddess,” I squeaked.

“She was known by the Gauls and the Celts as Sequana, the goddess of the Seine, but when her worshippers abandoned her, she faded and died. This new generation bestowed adoration upon her image, wrote love poems to it, and gave it the kiss of life every day. That was enough to restore her, but it changed her too. Clawing her way out of whatever common grave her body had been dumped into, she was reborn as L'Inconnue de la Seine—the unknown one of the Seine. The image of her face has spread through the world and now she’s no longer bound to her river.”

I had to swallow before I could speak. “Why was she at the lake?”

He shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but his face looked concerned. "She must have been drawn by Viviane’s ashes as I was. They are alike in some ways after all.”

“What do you mean?”

Redcap sighed as he took the red baseball cap off the dash and put it back on. “Don’t you get it, lass? Just like the original Sequana, Viviane was a creature out of myth and legend.”

“You’re crazy. My mother is dead. Because of you and Morgan, I lost my memories for an entire summer. I want to know what’s going on!”

When the man didn’t answer, I sat back in frustrated silence. After a couple of minutes, we drove through Windfield’s gate and I pointed the way to the smaller road leading up to my house. He pulled in front, turned off the engine, and handed me the keys. With the headlights off and clouds now covering the moon, I could barely see him, and when he spoke, his voice was low and angry.

“Mo leanabh—do you know what it means?” Redcap didn’t wait for me to respond. “It means my child in Scottish Gaelic. My mum used to call me that when I was little. But are you just an innocent child? How could you claim kinship with Viviane and not know what she was? How can you be ignorant of the world as it really is, mo leanabh?” The impossible red circling his irises burned.

“I don’t understand anything that’s happening to me,” I whispered.

Redcap cursed quietly and got out of the car. I hurried to follow him.

“Rhiannon,” he said and his voice was now gentle, “I don’t know who or what you are, but there’s something I know for a truth—you are not Viviane’s daughter.”

“What do you mean? Wait!” I cried.

But he had turned and slipped away into the darkness.

CHAPTER SIX

I spent the next few days avoiding Peter, but since he had football practice and student council meetings to attend, he didn’t seem to notice. It was a relief. I’d never kept a secret from him before, but I didn’t know how to make any of what happened up at the lake sound real. He would tell his parents and I’d be back at the hospital with doctors dipping into my head again.

Viviane is not my mother.

Each morning I would wake up and think I could march into her room and demand some answers. On the third day, I made it all the way in before the sight of the empty bed reminded me she was gone.

Mom wasn’t like other mothers. She wasn’t like Peter’s mom. Mom never hugged me or yelled at me. She never asked me how my day was. She didn’t like it when I went to the movies with Peter or stayed after school to work on a project, but she never said why. We were usually quiet when we were together.  Sometimes she would smile, but I had no memory of seeing her laugh. I couldn’t remember her ever saying she loved me.

I had a recurring nightmare when I was little. When she heard me crying, Mom would come and I would tell her about it. She would put her cool hand on my forehead until I calmed down and went back to sleep. Standing there staring at the empty bed, it occurred to me Mom never once told me the nightmare wasn’t real.

Red anger flared across my vision and I went back to my own room. Grabbing some clothes off the floor, I dressed and began searching the house.

Viviane is not my mother.

Why should I believe Thomas Redcap? I had no reason to trust him, except that he’d saved my life.

And fixed my car.

Maybe he meant I was adopted. It would explain how different Mom and I were. I pulled the house apart but couldn’t find my birth certificate or anything else that might prove my theory. I even checked under her bed, but only found a family of lonely dust bunnies.

Discouraged, I fingered through the jewelry in the small ceramic dish on the nightstand. Static electricity bit the tips of my fingers as they brushed against a delicate silver charm bracelet and I lifted it up to the light. A single charm dangled from it—a stylized daisy, or maybe a wheel—and the chain threaded through one of the spaces between the spokes. It was simple but beautiful and I wanted to put it on, but Mom’s things didn’t feel like they belonged to me. As I put the bracelet back, I noticed the corner of something peeking out from under the dish.

It was a business card with R. Goodfellow & Associates printed on one side and a phone number written on the back. It sounded like a law firm. If I was adopted, her lawyer would know, but wasn’t there attorney/client privilege or something? I went into the living room and popped the card in my purse just in case.

I sat down on the couch. It was quiet. Mom liked things to be quiet. When I would turn on the TV, the noise would drive her out into the garden. Peter and I would go to the movies instead or watch up at his house so we wouldn’t bother her.

In a surge of defiance, I hit the button on the remote and jacked up the sound till it filled the house. Then I went back to her room and began rifling through her armoire. I was almost tall and pretty slim, but Mom was skeletal and all legs—most of her skirts would be too long. Instead I hauled out a bunch of filmy tops I thought would fit. Claiming ownership of everything Mom had left behind, I also took the silver charm bracelet. The wheel shape was simple, almost childish, but I wanted it. As I draped the chain over my wrist and fastened the clasp, another spark of electricity ran across my skin, but this time it didn’t hurt.

It felt exciting.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The light was strange—grey and dim. The trees around me were cruelly twisted and their bare branches appeared to be claws reaching out to snatch me from the arms of the woman who carried me. I pressed my face against the soft, wheat-colored hair spilling over her shoulders and down her chest, but the rapid beating of the heart beneath was no comfort. We came to an abrupt stop and I was put down on unsteady legs onto the smooth path cutting through the trees. Another woman stepped out of a dazzling light to meet us. Her hair was black and her eyes were pale and cold—it was Mom. She took my hand and tried to lead me towards the light, but I began to cry and pull away. I reached for the beautiful woman who had abandoned me, but she was already leaving. As a dark shape slinked after her and the trees closed behind them like a gate, I tried to scream, but there was no sound.

I woke with my heart pounding and couldn’t see through icy blue streaks until it slowed down. I hadn’t had the nightmare in years; thinking about it must have resurrected it. The dull thud of my constant headache began again.

I never told Mom she was in my dream. I didn’t even realize it was her at first. The woman in my dream was larger, brighter somehow. Now I knew it was undeniably her face, her thin hand that held mine, and her pale eyes that seemed to see nothing and everything at once.

I dressed for school in jeans and a peasant blouse I’d pilfered from Mom’s wardrobe. I was still wearing the charm bracelet. The little wheel looked like some kind of good luck charm and I tucked it under my sleeve and decided to keep it on; I could use a little luck.

Peter wasn’t the only one I’d been avoiding. After the novelty of the new kids’ attention wore off, I felt strangely uncomfortable with it. Perversely, I was also afraid of the disappointment when they began ignoring me like everyone else did. When the lunch bell rang and Miko stepped out of a classroom into the hallway in front of me, I stopped and hoped she hadn’t seen me.

As she walked away, I felt relieved, but also unkind; from what I’d observed during the week, no one was going out of their way to make friends with the girl. Gathering my courage, I ran after her, but instead of heading to the cafeteria, she went through the door that led to the dressing rooms on the side of the stage. It seemed kind of stalkerish to follow her, but so did lurking in the hall waiting for her to come out. I was just about to leave when I heard singing and what sounded like a harp. Curious, I opened the door and went down the corridor to the girls’ dressing room. The door was open. Miko sat on the long counter running under the wall to wall mirror with a small harp in her hands. Looking up, she blinked in surprise.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” I joked.

Raising an eyebrow, she didn’t respond as she stuffed the instrument back into her bag.

My heart sank as I realized she was now ignoring me like everyone else did. “That was pretty. You have a beautiful voice.”

Miko went very still. “You heard that?”

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you. Is that a harp?” When she didn’t answer, I plowed on with nervous chatter. “I thought they were bigger. I’ve never known anyone who could play the harp. You’re really good.”

The girl stared at me as if I’d grown another head. “You could hear the music?”

“Um, yeah, of course.”

“I knew it!” Miko’s smile was triumphant. Grabbing me by the arm, she propelled me out of the dressing room and through the door into the hall.

“What are you doing?” I protested.

“Proving a point.”

For such a tiny person, her grip was iron as she dragged me into the cafeteria and over to the table Peter, Tynan, and Daley were sitting at. Depositing me into a chair, she plopped herself down on Peter’s knee and her pink miniskirt hiked up to show even more leg than usual. Peter didn’t seem to know where to put his hands and his neck was so red I was afraid something was going to pop.

“It’s Friday,” Miko announced. “Let’s do something.”

“Count me in,” Peter said and was rewarded with a kiss on the cheek. The blush spread from his neck up into his face.

Tynan brushed the hair out of his eyes and flashed me a quick smile. “I’m in.”

“Like what?” Daley looked up from the massive book he was reading just as I yelped from the prickle of static running through the metal chair into my thighs.

So much for making a good second impression.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Miko twirled a strand of hair around one finger and her eyes glittered. “Rhi likes music. Don’t you Rhi?” She turned back to Daley before I could reply. “She likes my harp. She thought my singing was really pretty.”

Daley closed his book with a thump and Tynan pushed his tray away and sat up straight. Everyone was staring at me.

Anxiety drifted like tangerine fog along the edges of my vision. “I don’t know where any bands might be playing. Sometimes in the summer there are underage dances, but . . .”

Peter wasn’t going to let me ruin what he’d probably been angling for all week. “But we could go to that restaurant I was telling you about and then catch a movie.” I felt a twinge of jealousy; movies were our thing.

“Great!” Miko said, hopping off his knee and flashing more leg at the student body. “It's a plan. You can pick us all up at 6:00.”

I sat there as Miko arranged my very first date for me. It wasn’t until I was walking to my next class that I realized I wasn’t sure which one of the brothers was supposed to be mine. Touching the wheel charm tucked inside the sleeve of my blouse for luck, I made a wish.

Let it be Daley, please.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The teacher droned on as if he somehow knew how desperate I was for the class to be over and wanted to torture me for it. I was excited at first, but the more I thought about going on a date—about socializing with anyone other than Peter and the Larsens—the more I felt like I was breaking apart. My head throbbed as colors streaked across my interior vision and my skin was tight and hot where the charm rested against it. When I lifted my sleeve and looked at my wrist, I was shocked to see a round mark, almost like a burn. I’d felt the charm’s electricity a number of times, but hadn’t realize it had actually raised a raw, red welt. The spot was painful, but I’d continued to wear the bracelet even though I must have known it was hurting me.

What’s wrong with me?

It was suddenly all too much. No matter what I’d wished for before, I no longer wanted to be seen. I tried to remember Mom’s voice, but it was thin and far away. Closing my eyes, I focused on the watery blue that usually calmed me, but I couldn’t grasp it and it dissipated like mist on the surface of a lake.

Anger surged through me and a flash of light beneath my eyelids followed it. Startled, I opened my eyes and jumped to my feet, but the sparkles of pink I would have expected didn’t appear. Everything was too bright and the glare made the world look like it was painted in black and white.

When Mr. Porter turned and crossed his arms, it took me a moment to realize he was waiting for me to apologize. Someone in the back laughed. My cheeks flamed and I wished everyone would stop staring at me.

Everyone is staring at me.

“Is there something you’d like to share with the class, Miss Lynne?” After three years, five days, four hours, and twenty-two minutes, one of Eastdale’s teachers had decided to acknowledge my existence.

“No . . . uh, sorry,” I stammered, “it’s just . . . I thought I saw . . .” I searched for a plausible excuse for jumping out of my skin and standing there like a moron. “I saw a spider.” More laughter. “I don’t like spiders,” I added unnecessarily.

Mr. Porter had small eyes made even smaller by thick, black-rimmed glasses. They seemed to contract now into dark dots. “And is it too much to ask for you to take your seat, Miss Lynne? Or would you like us to all drop everything and go searching for spiders so you’ll feel more comfortable?”

“No. Thank you. I’m fine now.”

“Well that’s wonderful,” he drawled before turning and continuing to scrawl on the board in his illegible handwriting.

Lacey McInnis leaned over from the seat behind and whispered, “Don’t mind old man Porter. I bet everyone here wishes they could stand up and walk out. He’s just mad you’re the first one to try it.”

It took me a moment to process that she was speaking to me. Civilly. “Wish I tried it years ago,” I murmured and she laughed.

After class, Lacey hesitated by my desk and then seemed to decide something.

“Hey Rhi, I just wanted you to know, I understand. I bet it’s hard watching Peter drool all over the new girl.”

So that’s it—the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

“I guess.” There was no point telling Lacey I didn’t care if Peter drooled all over every girl in town—she wouldn’t believe me.

“If you ever want to talk . . .”

“OK. Thanks.”

I was the recipient of my first ever Lacey McInnis smile before she waved and joined a couple of Bumblebees on their way to cheerleading practice.

The school day ended on such a weirdly pleasant note that I took courage and began to look forward to going out that night.

After a quick snack and a long shower, I rummaged through the contents of a laundry hamper that now contained the majority of my wardrobe and came up with a slightly wrinkled jean skirt and one of Mom’s chiffon tops. Neither were dirty—I’d just thrown them at the hamper because I was too lazy to hang them back up. As I took the charm bracelet off and placed it on my night table, I was glad the long sleeves of the top covered the burn on my wrist.

I was slipping on a pair of sandals when Peter started honking outside. Stuffing my phone and some money in the back pocket of my skirt, I rushed out.

“Hurry up!” he yelled through the open window of his mom’s mini-van. It wouldn’t be stylish, but at least we would all fit. The automatic side door slid open. “In the back,” he ordered.

“Why?”

“I want Miko to with me. Besides, don’t you want to sit with Ty?” He pulled away so fast I was almost thrown out of my seat before I could get my belt on.

“I don’t know, do I?”

“You should. He’s been asking about you all week.”

“Really?” I wasn’t sure I believed Peter. If Tynan had wanted to talk to me, he could have found me any time.

“Really. He’s like, obsessed with you. I hope Daley found a date or it’ll be weird. He wanted to know about you too, but Ty was all over it.” My heart dropped as I realized my wish had gone unanswered.

We went north on Simcoe Street, the same road Winfield was on, until we passed Port Perry. Following the directions on my phone, we turned off and headed towards Lake Simcoe. When we arrived at the address we’d been given, neither of us spoke for a moment. Mansion might sound like somewhere one of the villains in Peter’s comic books would live, but it was the only word that fit the sprawling stone building at the end of a dirt lane, backed by forest. The other two and three acre lots around it were still bare and waiting to be bought and built on.

Peter pointed at the red sports car parked in front. “Do you know what that is? It’s a Jag F-Type V8 S! They start at a hundred grand and go up.”

The others were waiting for us on the massive stone porch and were in the van before Peter could get out and open the doors. “Nice ride,” Tynan laughed as he buckled himself into the seat beside me.

Peter flushed. “Well at least we’re not sitting on top of one another.”

Miko ignored her seatbelt and slid across the front passenger seat to nestle into Peter. “Now that sounds like fun.” His blush went nuclear.

Daley climbed into the back. “We need to stop somewhere first.”

When Daley gave him the address, Peter caught my eye in the rearview mirror; we both knew it very well. Twenty minutes later, we were at Lacey McInnis’ house. Tynan and I got a bright hello as she climbed into the van. Peter and Miko were ignored.

“Hey, Day,” she said as she sat beside him.

I would have bet big money that Daley would hate the nickname, but all he said was, “You look nice.” She did too. Lacey carried her extra ten pounds better in a t-shirt, sleek jacket, and ruffled skirt.

“Wow, that’s beautiful.”

“Don’t touch it!” I turned in surprise to see Daley tucking the chain and its pendant under his collar. Lacey looked like she might cry.

“Sorry,” he apologized after a moment. “It caught in my hair and you pulled it.” I could hear the lie, but Lacey smiled in relief.

Miko snorted and made a face as she snuggled in closer to Peter. “We need to make another stop.”

“Sure. Where?”

“Somewhere quiet.”

He grinned. “I know just the place.”

Uncomfortable, I shifted in my seat and gazed out the window.

We drove across town to Parkwood, a historic estate and one of the few tourist attractions in town worth checking out. The grounds were almost always open, but I’d heard it was easy sneaking in even after hours.

It’s amazing what people will say around you when they don’t notice you’re there.

We parked and walked past the house and down a path to a sunken clearing with a stone pavilion at one end. During the day, the area was used for weddings. During the night, it was occasionally used for the type of activity that resulted in some of those weddings.

Peter draped his arm over Miko’s shoulders and wandered away from the rest of us. Not to be outdone, Lacey glared at him and then put her arm through Daley’s. Tynan and I stared at one another awkwardly. I wanted to say something witty or cute, but feared I’d probably end up making out with him just to avoid speaking to him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“What?” The horrible thought occurred to me that he was sorry he didn’t want to make out with me.

Tynan looked at his brother. Daley and Miko had both detached themselves from their partners and Daley nodded back at him. Tynan straightened into full and impressive height and pointed at the trees on the one side of the clearing. “Ae veyll ooæk ee - ærree bee ægh!” he yelled.

Dandelion yellow flashed across my eyes. As Tynan continued to shout gibberish into the shrubbery, I had the terrible feeling I was about to get punked the same way that poor girl Carrie did on the night of her prom.

Before I could move, the air became wet and I closed my eyes against a blast of icy wind. Colors swirled in my mind’s eye and shaped themselves into something monstrous.

A white form licked by corpse blue flame. Silky hair slicked in dew. Glistening fangs. Dog shaped and yet as far from a dog as a nightmare is from a dream.

Three short howls echoed through the clearing. The vision in my mind wavered and I opened my eyes.

Peter had put himself between the direction of the sound and the rest of us. “Better stay back. It might be a coyote or a wild dog. Try not to make any sudden moves.”

I shook my head. “That’s not what it is.”

“You can see it somehow, can’t you,” Miko whispered as she sidled up behind me, “even though it's not yet fully present in our world.”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

I shook my head again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Another howl and the bushes shook and swayed. Peter looked around wildly as he tried to locate the source of the sound. Lacey whimpered.

“What is it?”

“A member of the Wild Hunt, a hound of Avalon. Most supernatural beings have many names, but the Welsh would call it a Cŵn Annwn. The Hunt guards the Wall between our world and the world of magic. Tynan called this one from its pack.”

I stared at her in shock. “Why?”

Miko’s lopsided smile was full of mischief. “To win a bet.”

I might have slapped it right off her pretty little face if hell hadn’t suddenly erupted. A white creature burst into the clearing. It landed facing Peter, snarling and huffing. The beast matched what I’d seen in my mind except for the glowing red of the inside of its ears. It was beautiful.

And completely pee your pants terrifying.

Peter held his ground out of range of its claws. “Get back to the van! I’ll hold it off somehow!”

“Protector,” Miko murmured. “Check.”

Lacey didn’t need to be told twice. When the beast’s gaze remained fixed on Peter, she raced up the stone steps and out of sight down the path.

“Useless,” Miko sneered. “Check two.”

I looked at Tynan, but he was staring at the ground and wouldn’t meet my eyes. Daley stood with his arms crossed, watching us. “Do something!” I screamed. Neither of them moved.

Rhiannon, listen to me. We cannot be seen. Hide in the shadows and be still and silent.

Mom’s voice rang through my mind like a bell in my skull. I had to obey and disappear. I waited for the color that always followed her words to pass over me, but could only find wisps that I could barely focus on. I blinked my eyes and then even they were gone.

The beast turned its head to look at me with eyes like moonstones.

“He sees you,” Miko said. “I don’t know how you’ve been hiding yourself from everyone, but you’re all here now. What are you going to do?”

Even if I’d had an answer, there was no time. The creature moved so fast it seemed to fly. The air was knocked out of my lungs and when I could think again, I realized I was flat on my back with the Cŵn Annwn’s cold paws on my chest. Claws like curved, bleached bones dug into my ribs, but the creature was strangely light. I gasped as its claws pierced the fabric of my top and it lowered its head to look at me intently. It wasn’t attacking. Yet.

I should have been blank and white with terror, but its touch seemed to have changed something. Or maybe I’d hit my head when I went down and couldn’t comprehend the reality of my danger. I tried to focus on the Cŵn Annwn, but it shifted between a dog-like beast with white hair and a creature made from the glowing blue-green of marsh gases and the silvery grey of windblown skies.

I couldn’t help myself—I put my hand out to touch it. Peter hissed at me to stop. The Cŵn Annwn growled as my fingers sank into the slick, wet fur at its neck and I froze, expecting razor teeth to sink into my skin, but the creature shook its head as if confused.

Some instinct told me to close my eyes. The Cŵn Annwn was still there in my mind as an aura of pale flame. I felt it flicker up my arms and across my body. It called to me.

I let go of the beast’s fur and reached for the tongues of flame flickering blue, then green, then silver and grey. In my mind, they leapt up in response. As they seeped into my skin, a pleasure spread through my gut that I’d never experienced before. I felt the beginnings of ecstasy, but it wasn’t fast enough.  Impatient to have it all—to feel it all—I imagined myself reaching out to grasp the Cŵn Annwn’s colors and my palms burned with cold fire.

I opened my eyes when the creature whimpered and everything I thought I knew about myself and my synesthesia was blown to hell. I could still see the flames that danced across my hands and their connection to the beast.

I think I can see magic.

The weight on my chest increased and I knew the Cŵn Annwn was preparing to attack. Acting on instinct again, I tightened my grip on the beast’s aura and yanked it away.

Sensation swept through me. I could smell the rich odor of wet earth, fallen leaves, and running streams. Wind slapped my cheeks and I exulted in the reckless joy of the hunt. I raced across misty moors and dove into salty seas. I tore through the skies and fell on my prey like a bolt of lightning. I felt a joy so pure I wanted to cry.

The weight disappeared and I was forced back into myself. The Cŵn Annwn was gone.

“Are you all right? Are you hurt?” Peter skidded to his knees beside me and I thought I saw a thread of brilliant green connecting us, but my head started throbbing and I lost it.

An oval face smiling a lopsided smile swam into view.

“Anomaly,” Miko said. “Check three. I win!”

CHAPTER NINE

We sat on one side and they sat on the other—enemy camps separated by the no man’s land of the table. Tynan appeared miserable and even Daley seemed uncomfortable. I could tell Peter was angry, but Lacey was harder to read.

The only one who was perfectly relaxed was Miko. She was wolfing down an apple crisp slathered in whipped cream. I considered the bowl of chocolate mousse in front of me and picked up a spoon to shovel a generous portion into my mouth.

Lacey broke. “How can the two of you sit there eating after what just happened?”

Miko didn’t bother looking up. “Have some. You’ll feel better.”

“How is dessert going to make me feel better about being attacked by a monster?” Lacey cried, but it was a topic no one was ready to discuss.

One by one, the others began to eat what Miko had ordered for them. Even Lacey began to pick at her shortcake until she was finishing it with enthusiasm.

Fortified by chocolate, I was ready for answers. “How did you know?”

Miko didn’t blink. “Know what?”

“That chocolate mousse is my favorite and pecan pie is Peter’s?”

“Everyone likes to claim they’re into wheat grass and steamed vegetables and whatever, but I can see past the illusion of the lie they tell themselves to uncover the truth.” She grimaced. “People rarely appreciate being told what they really want.”

Tynan nudged her gently with his shoulder. “We do, Meek.”

I was sick of all the games. “So she is your sister then, and not just some chickie who works for your dad.” Tynan ducked his head and his hair fell over his eyes. His refusal to look directly at anyone for long was starting to irritate me.

The noise Miko made was a cross between a laugh and a snort. “I told you, unlike these two losers, I have a family of my own—even if I’m not on speaking terms with any of them at the moment.”

“So what did you win in this bet of yours then?”

Lacey dropped her spoon with a clatter against her plate. “What bet?”

“I think it was a bet we wouldn’t get killed, at least, not too quickly.”

Daley shook his head. “I would have stepped in if the Cŵn Annwn had attacked. Up until you did whatever it was you did, it was only curious. We search for Potentials. Miko can usually sense what category they fall into, but you three were difficult to sort out. It was her idea to try something a little bit unorthodox.”

“Potential for what?” Peter asked. “And what was that thing?”

“Not potential,” Tynan corrected from beneath the curtain of his hair, “a Potential. Someone with untapped abilities. Magic.”

“Magic,” Peter said, laughing.

“Magic,” Lacey said with wonder in her voice.

I didn’t say anything. I already knew that magic existed.

A waitress arrived with mugs of hot chocolate and we were silent as she passed them around. “The boys and I still need sugar,” Miko explained after the woman left. “Using magic depletes the body’s physical and mental resources.”

“Tynan was the one who called the Cŵn Annwn.”

“Tynan has that ability. At the moment.” Tynan flushed and looked away. “Daley was maintaining a perimeter to contain the beast. I was holding a glamour over us to make sure no one witnessed our little experiment.”

Peter laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”

Daley sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but Miko has a magic device—a harp—that gives us information on where a Potential might be.”

“Oh come on!”

I put my hand on Peter’s arm. “Just listen for a minute.” His pale eyebrows shot up, but he nodded.

Daley flashed me a grateful look. “Sometimes the harp is as specific as a name and a place, but usually it’s just a general area and we have to narrow it down ourselves. The harp sent us to Ontario, but we’ve been searching cities since the spring and it’s been like chasing ghosts. Since most abilities show up in adolescence, we normally start in the schools and Eastdale was the first on the list here. Miko could sense something, but she wasn’t sure what. Since there were three of you in one place—which is unprecedented—it was probably messing with her abilities.”

Miko perked up. “I was being blocked!”

“Maybe,” Daley conceded.

“But then there was the weird thing in the bathroom,” Miko interrupted.

Lacey wrinkled her nose. “What weird thing?”

Miko ignored her and looked at me. “You were doing some kind of magic I’d never felt before.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Daley frowned. “You said you were Viviane Lynne’s daughter. Our father has been looking for her, but she’s been missing for years. Everyone thought she was dead.” He paused when he saw the look on my face. “Sorry. We didn’t realize it was true, or how recently it happened, until you told Tynan. Anyway, at the time, our father thought the name was maybe just a coincidence, but it was worth checking out. The three of you seemed connected so we watched you all, or at least, we tried to. You were always difficult to find. I’d track you down and then something would catch my attention and you’d be gone. You being able to hear the harp was another red flag. Miko had the idea of putting you in a stress situation to see what would happen and I agreed.”

“And what’s the harm of a few wagers on the side, right Meek?” I glared at the girl, but she was inspecting the polish on her nails and looking bored.

Daley made an impatient gesture. “If you want to be angry with someone, be angry with me.”

“So what was the bet then, Day?”

A muscle jumped in Daley’s cheek and his eyes narrowed. I was right—he didn’t like the nickname. “Miko’s bet was that within three minutes of facing a threat, she could confirm exactly what you were.”

“What are we then?”

Miko answered with three black-tipped fingers raised as she ticked the points off. “A Protector, a Mongrel and an Anomaly.” She smiled sweetly at Lacey. “You’re the Mongrel, in case you were wondering.” Lacey’s mouth opened but no sound came out.

Miko pointed at Peter. “Protector. You’ve inherited the ability from a relative or an ancestor. We can check with Taliesin and see if we can find out who it was, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up. Protector magic is one of the few abilities not diluted by breeding and you can never predict which generation it’ll pop up in.”

The finger turned to Lacey. “Mongrel. One of your ancestors mated with a lorelei or something. The hint of those abilities is what makes you more popular than you deserve. In ancient times, you might have had enough natural talent to become a witch, but now you’ll probably become a weather girl on regional TV. National, if you’re lucky.” Cruel, but basically what I would have predicted for Lacey too.

The finger moved to me. “Anomaly. Do you even realize that sometimes you’re almost invisible? That’s a witches’ trick, but I’m mostly immune to those. That day in the bathroom, I saw you fade before my eyes and then come back, though not as strong as before. It was like you were still out of focus.”

Tynan pushed the hair out of his eyes. “We asked around and no one could remember what you looked like or if you were in any of their classes. Except Lacey. She definitely . . . knew you,” he finished diplomatically. Lacey fidgeted beside me but remained silent. “She seems to be unaffected by whatever it is you do.”

Miko thumped the table with a tiny fist. “The point is, I can smell the spells a witch casts from a mile away and I couldn’t detect siren or lorelei on you either.” She smirked at Lacey. “They both have a distinctly fishy scent, paranormally speaking.” She pointed at me again. “You couldn’t really be the Viviane Lynne’s daughter—that was ridiculous—but you’re not like any other Greylander we’ve encountered. Daley refused to even consider you might be an earth magician. . .”

“That’s not true.”

“. . . but he was right, you’re not. There isn’t an earth magician on record who could do what you did to the Cŵn Annwn. We just wanted to see how you would react and then Ty would have sent the hound back. Somehow you pulled the Cŵn Annwn’s power out and left something different behind. So, Anomaly!” she said as if that was proof of everything.

A faint vibration passed through the table and I glanced outside the window to see if a storm was coming. The sky was clear. When I looked back, Daley had placed his hands flat on the table and was staring at me with a frown. I had the strange impression that the vibration was coming from him. “The three of you could use some time to process this. Peter can take you home. I’ll call for someone to pick us up. Come to the house at noon tomorrow and our father will explain everything.” It was a command, not an invitation “Go on. I’ll take care of the bill.” We were dismissed. Peter slid out of the booth and Lacey and I followed him.

I stopped. Daley might be completely hot in an authoritarian sort of way, but I had to ignore that because there was something I needed to know. “Since you seem to have all the answers, who was my mother? Who was Viviane Lynne?”

He considered me with stormy eyes that didn’t trust me at all. “She was the Lady of the Lake.  Viviane was a goddess.”

Lightning streaked across the cloudless sky.

CHAPTER TEN

I woke early the next morning feeling agitated and restless. My night had been filled with dreams of being chased by the Cŵn Annwn through twisted trees while lightning hit the ground around me.

I decided to go for a quick run across the property to clear my head. Even though it was early, the farm hand everyone called Old Tom had already let the horses out. Two of them were munching on the grass near the fence in the back paddock. Doll and Galileo were chestnut-colored siblings and direct descendants of the farm’s most famous horse, Northern Dancer. As I approached the fence, Doll cantered over to see if I’d brought a treat.

“Sorry, girl.” I kept my distance. The horses sensed my fear and reacted to it with their teeth. Every attempt to learn to ride had ended one of two ways: on my backside in the dirt or begging Peter to get me down.

My nose twitched as I caught the scent of something funny underneath the usual horse and hay smell. I’d never been to the ocean, but it was what I imagined it smelled like: salty, sharp, and wet. Doll shook her head and backed away in a funny sideways movement. Galileo trotted towards us, snorting and huffing through his nostrils. They both seemed to be staring at something over my head.

I turned around. Windfield was set up on a grid with tree-lined laneways branching off from the main road that led to the front gate. My house was about twenty feet down the second of those laneways. The two closest guesthouses were on the third and not too far from where I stood. The buildings were neglected and sinister; the perfect place for an intruder to hide. Northern Dancer’s bloodline was valuable property and even though the barns were locked down at night with a state of the art security system, Old Tom was always on the lookout for anyone trying to break in and get at one of the horses.

Mauve shot with grey prickled on the edges of my vision as it occurred to me that security systems might not be too useful against someone—or something—with magic.

I glanced back at the horses. Doll’s eyes had widened until the whites showed. Peter had taught me the signs; Galileo was anxious, but Doll was afraid. Maybe they’d been spooked by a rabbit and were acting up to get attention.

Yeah, cuz thoroughbred racehorses are just neurotic that way.

I jogged over to the first house and tried the doorknob, but it was locked. The place was in pretty bad shape. These two guesthouses had always been hardly better than shacks and were used as accommodation for temporary workers back when things were thriving. The houses closer in quality to mine were on the far side of the property and had already been torn down to make way for the new subdivision.

Flaking paint dug into my palms as I leaned on the window sill to get a better look inside. A kitchenette ran along one wall and a table with one missing leg leaned against the other. There was no other furniture. Two closed doors led to a bedroom and a bathroom. The house was as deserted as it should be.

I decided to check on the second one, just in case. From the outside, it was identical to the first except for a triangle-shaped window set in the door a little above my eye level. Rising on my toes to look through, I leaned on the doorknob to prop myself up. When the knob twisted unexpectedly, I fell forward through the doorway and onto the wet carpet. Scrambling up, I started to gag at the smell, and then froze—all thoughts of mildew and mold and rotting things forgotten. Cold white veined in dank blue the color of a thrashing sea passed over my eyes.

Beside the imprints of my hands in the soggy carpet, and all around the room, were the distinct marks of paw prints.

The smell of the carpet didn’t seem to bother Peter at all. Years of mucking out the horse stalls had probably burned off the first layer of cells in his nose.

“Why’d you come in here anyway?” he called through the open door.

“I told you, the horses were acting weird.”

Peter came out onto the porch and looked down the path to where Doll and Galileo were again happily munching grass. He snorted, but didn’t comment.

“There was a weird smell too,” I added. He cocked an eyebrow at me and I amended the statement. “Weirder than that.”

Peter crossed his arms and ran the thumbnail of his right hand up and down the groove between his bottom middle teeth, something he did when he was thinking and a habit both his mother and his dentist hated. Coming to a decision, he walked back into the house and kneeled down in the muck to measure one of the prints against his hand.

I stayed on the porch. “Should we tell your Dad or Old Tom?”

Peter shook his head as he stood and wiped his hands off on his jeans. “I don’t want to pull them into this.”

“What do you mean?”

“It might be something like that thing you killed, the Coowinanoon.”

“Cŵn Annwn,” I corrected, “and I’m not sure I killed it.”

“Well it isn’t a coyote or a stray dog; the prints are too big.” He pointed to some smaller marks. “And it has six claws on each paw.”

Breathing through my mouth to keep out the smell, I took a step inside. “That’s weird, right?”

“Yup.” Peter walked over to the kitchenette and opened a bottom cupboard, then quickly slammed it shut.

“What is it?”

“I think I found its lunch.”

“What?”

“Raccoon.”

“Recent?”

“From the amount of maggots in it, yeah. But something was chewing on it first.”

We both turned and looked at the first closed door. Mrs. Larsen was a huge X-Files fan and used to say Peter and I were proof ESP really existed, but we just knew each other so well that sometimes saying things out loud wasn’t necessary.

Peter stepped lightly across the soggy carpet and I squished after him. Twisting the doorknob carefully, he opened the door to a bedroom. It was empty. I caught the smell again—a whiff of salt air—and pointed to the bathroom door. Peter nodded and padded over to push it open. He stood there, staring.

“What? What is it?” As I approached, I tried to ignore the disgusting slip and slide of my running shoes on the carpet; it was like walking through sewage.

When I was ten, I went through a major Little Mermaid period—the original story, not the sappy cartoon. I collected all the storybook versions I could find and one of my favorites had an illustration of the Little Mermaid diving through waving kelp with her hair streaming out behind her. So I knew what I was looking at. Peter reached into the tub and pulled out something wet and slimy.

A long strand of rotting seaweed.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Peter was pre-occupied and tense as we drove to the mansion.  Except for a puzzled question about my now working air-conditioning which I dodged, we were silent. I didn’t mind. It had taken over half an hour to shower off the stink of mildew and seaweed and my head hurt.

When we pulled into the driveway and parked, Lacey was waiting for us beside a rusty old hatchback. Her cheeks went bright pink when Peter gave her a quick hug.

Peter knocked on the front door and a middle-aged man opened it.

“Yes?”

“Mr. Taliesin?”

The man laughed, his tanned skin wrinkling into deep lines. “Heaven forbid, no. But I’ll get him for you.”

“We’re actually here for Ty and Daley.”

“Oh I see, the new recruits. C’mon in.” The man disappeared down a hallway as we stepped inside.

Lacey frowned. “What did he mean by ‘recruits’?”

I shrugged and looked around. The foyer was two stories high and the staircase in front of us swept up to the top floor at the back of the house. Muted paintings hung on the walls and niches displayed tasteful decorative items.

Lacey pointed up at a crystal and iron monstrosity. “Look at that chandelier! It must have cost thousands. This place is amazing.”

I decided to refuse to be impressed. “It’s boring if you ask me.”

“It’s a rental,” a voice with a lilting accent agreed. A trim man with close-cut salt and pepper hair and a neat beard entered from a side hallway. “It was more the location than the house that attracted me.”

Lacey gave the man her brightest smile. “The house is beautiful, Mr. Taliesin.”

“Please, it is simply Taliesin. Daley apprised me of the details of your misadventure yesterday and I agreed that I should meet with you to explain as much as I can. I have some business to attend to first, but I have asked Rowan to escort you to the dining room where lunch is waiting.” He gestured to the man who had greeted us at the door and now returned to the foyer. With a nod, Taliesin exited the same way he arrived.

“C’mon kids.” Rowan waved us over with a friendly smile. “This way.”

We followed him down the hall into a grand room where a table that could easily seat twenty stretched from the window to the entry. Tynan, Daley and Miko sat at the far end.

“Ah, here the miscreants are,” Rowan announced genially. He gestured to a sideboard with serving dishes on it. “Fill up and take a seat.”

We helped ourselves as Rowan led a discussion on everything from whether any of the movies out were worth the price of admission to if there was a chance the new Bachelorette would find love. We all relaxed except Daley. I could feel him watching me. I expected a flare of yellow or orange in response—or even the more complicated mix of scarlet and rose I was starting to feel whenever he was around—but there was nothing.

“If you are finished, I would ask that you accompany me to the study.” Taliesin’s quiet appearance at the doorway was unnerving; the man moved like a ghost. Rowan thanked us for our company and as he left, all the ease and warmth left with him.

We filed after Taliesin into another tasteful cream on cream room. He sat down behind a massive mahogany desk and we settled into the couch and chairs around the room. I chose an overstuffed armchair and regretted it as I sank into the cushions. Daley leaned against the wall with his arms folded.

I examined Taliesin. The man wore dark jeans and a white cotton shirt, but his clothing was so crisp and tailored that it whispered, not shouted, designer. I knew I was anxious—a strong enough emotion to usually inspire some color—but all I could sense along the edges of my sight was a deep indigo. Pain suddenly swelled in my temples and I wanted to run and hide from this quiet, terrifying man.

Rhiannon, listen to me! We cannot be seen! Hide in the shadows and be still and silent!

Mom’s voice seemed to scream at me and I imagined myself grasping at wisps of misty blue until I finally managed to drag a few scraps around myself.

Miko pointed. “She’s doing it again.”

Taliesin frowned as his eyes flicked around the room. A haze passed over my eyes and the world went dim, but I couldn’t hold onto it. Mom’s color slipped away, and indigo—an oilier, denser blue—replaced it.

“And now she’s back. See?” Miko’s voice was triumphant.

Taliesin nodded. “Yes, I do now.”

“Daley didn’t believe me.”

Daley made an impatient gesture. “I didn’t say that.”

“You did!”

Their voices hurt my head. “I’m right here. What exactly do you think I’m doing?”

Taliesin raised his hand and the room went quiet. “Yes, you are definitely here with us now, Miss Lynne, but I could not see you in the room even though I had been warned about your peculiar ability.” He leaned forward and rested his chin on steepled fingers. “No spell? No incantation?”

I thought of Mom’s voice and the words I heard her speaking in my head but decided not to mention it. “How would I even know how to do something like that?”

His shrug was the barest of movements. “There is a great deal of dangerous information to be had if you know where to search. The internet has changed everything, even that. You had no idea that you were essentially rendering yourself invisible?”

Something about the man put my back up and I didn’t like admitting what I’d already guessed. “Maybe everyone needs to get their eyes checked.”

Taliesin leaned back in his chair and regarded the others. “Well?”

Tynan brushed his hair away from his face and flashed me a shy smile. “I thought you might still be in the dining room.”

Miko sat with her legs crossed on a small ottoman. “I couldn’t see her—which should be impossible since I’m the glamour girl here—but I’ve been working on keeping track of her just in case.”

Great, now I have a tiny harajuku stalker.

“Mr. Larsen?” Taliesin prompted.

Peter snorted. “I think I would have noticed if Rhi had a habit of turning invisible.”

“Typical Protector,” Miko said, smirking. “What about you, Lacey?”

Lacey hesitated before answering. “I could see her.”

“So could I,” Daley volunteered.

Taliesin nodded thoughtfully. “Interesting. Given their close relationship, Mr. Larsen is likely Rhiannon’s bonded Protector and would be able to sense her presence whenever she was near. He might not notice that he was not actually seeing her with his eyes. Miss McInnis’ lorelei blood must protect her from this particular glamour as well. But why you, my son? None of your abilities should protect you from such a spell and I thought you said that you had trouble finding her at the school.”

Something in my stomach jumped as my eyes met Daley’s, but then he shrugged and looked away. “I don’t know.”

Miko fidgeted and twisted one of her ponytails around her finger. “Let’s not forget that Rhi can also see and hear the harp even without me wishing it.”

Taliesin tapped his fingers once on the desk before responding. “Yes, ‘curiouser and curiouser’ as Alice in Wonderland would say. But perhaps I should first explain to our new friends what happened yesterday and what it meant.”

Lacey stood and balled her fists on her hips. “I know what happened. It was just some dog attracted to the garbage at the park. Miko saw how freaked out we were and thought she’d have a little fun. I don’t appreciate being messed with like that.” The two girls glared at one another.

Taliesin gestured for Lacey to sit. “Miss McInnis, please.” His tone was firm and she obeyed. “I wish I could let you remain in ignorance, but the fact that we have taken an interest in you will not have gone unnoticed by the spies who make it their business to trade in this kind of information.  Knowledge is needed now for you to protect yourself from those who would seek to make a trophy out of one of even your very limited ability.

The expression on Lacey’s face shifted to outrage as she realized she’d just been told she was basically a magical non-entity.

Peter wasn’t convinced. “Right, so I’m some sort of a magical security guard, Lacey’s popular because great-grandpa knocked up a mermaid, and everyone thinks Rhi can float away and disappear. Oh, and yeah, the woman who planted the friggin’ tulips in our friggin’ garden was the Lady of the Lake!” It was as close to swearing as I’d ever heard my best friend get and was proof of how upset he was.

It was my fault; I should have prepared him for magic. Taking a deep breath, I came clean. “There’s some stuff I haven’t told anyone yet. The day Mom died, I met a woman named Morgan who said she was Mom’s sister. Then a guy called Thomas Redcap ate some of Mom’s skin—but that’s a normal thing for him,” I hastened to add when I saw Peter’s shocked expression. “When I fell and hit my head, I lost my memory of what happened for a while. But when I went to the lake to scatter Mom’s ashes, a river goddess tried to kill me and Redcap saved me. He told me Mom wasn’t my birth mother.”

I turned to address Taliesin because I couldn’t bear the look on Peter’s face. Except for the silver-haired man and my colors, I’d never kept anything from him before. It was time to fess up about at least one of those.

“I see colors in my mind when I feel things, but I always thought it was a weird kind of synesthesia. When I saw the Cŵn Annwn’s magic, I knew I was wrong, or at least, not all right. I took its power somehow—I’m not sure how. Peter and I found paw prints and a bathtub full of seaweed on his property, but I don’t know if it has anything to do with the Cŵn Annwn.” Sinking back down into the chair, I fingered the wheel charm on the bracelet under my sleeve as I stared at a spot on the floor.

“I thought I would be the one providing illumination today.” Taliesin’s voice sounded amused, but when I glanced up, his face was stern. “You and I will talk on this further, but for now I will be as succinct as you have been.” He considered each one of us until he was sure he had our attention. “Parallel to our world, there exists a place of magic—the Grey Lands of Avalon. The lord of that land was called Cernunnos the horned god by the Celts, though both he and his land are known by different names in all the cultures of the world. His three sisters reigned with him: Morgana, Morgause, and Viviane.”

Shocked pink striated with orange alarm ran across my sight.

Taliesin raised his hand before I could speak. “I know you have many questions. Let me finish and perhaps some will be answered. The abilities of Greylanders are heightened in this world of light and dark so different from their twilight home. They found their way here and became the creatures of our myths and legends. Morgause and Viviane were goddesses in many lands. Morgause was a seer. Cassandra of Troy was one incarnation; Andraste of the Celts was the last before her current one as the Seer of New York. Viviane chose the moon and water as her symbols—Diana, Hecate, Tethys—she was all of these and more.” His face was sympathetic. “It was fitting for she was known to be cold and barren. When she appeared among the Celts—my people—she named herself the Lady of the Lake.”

“The ancient tales of gods falling in love with mortals were based on truth. The mating of Greylanders and humans sometimes produced children of unprecedented skill. Our abilities may vary, but we call ourselves earth magicians for we are loyal to it. But one was born who was gifted by the earth with pure magic sprung directly from it—the Earth King—and his power rivaled that of the Lord of the Grey Lands. Cernunnos sent Morgana, his most beloved sister, to destroy the King.”

Morgana. Morgan.

Taliesin sighed. “It is a sad story of all too human betrayal and suffering. Despite the Earth King being already married, he and Morgana fell in love at first meeting. They planned to conquer this world and the Grey Lands and rule both together. They almost succeeded. In the final battle, Cernunnos brought down the Earth King through treachery—not to death, but to an ageless sleep. The chaos that ensued led to the time we call the Dark Ages. Cernunnos created the Wall between our worlds to protect himself should the Earth King ever rise again.”

The lilting tones of the man’s voice sent a shiver down my spine. “I lead the earth magicians and those Greylanders stranded behind the Wall who have sworn loyalty to me. Together, we fight the ones who have no love for the world and have chosen to become monsters. We stand ready for the day the Earth King awakens, for he is a tyrant who cares nothing for the lives of those who follow him. And we stand ready to fight on a last front against Cernunnos, who will not be content to remain behind his Wall forever.”

Only Peter was brave enough to break the silence that followed. “Rowan called us ‘recruits’. If you expect us to fight against this ‘Earth King’, I think we deserve to know his name.’

Taliesin’s voice was soft but his eyes were hard.

“King Arthur of Camelot.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

A lot of shouting followed the announcement that the great enemy of the world was King Arthur. Peter had a hard time accepting that the character he’d identified with in movies and novels was a world-conquering dictator.

“Enough!” Taliesin’s shout brought immediate silence.

Wow. He could do Broadway with that thing.

“I understand this is difficult for you to believe. The legend of the great King Arthur and his noble knights of the round table is a powerful one. Indeed, much of it is true.” He turned away to gaze out the window. “Whatever the blindness of his vision, Arthur was a true believer. He saw Morgana and those of her kind as victims of an evil overlord who oppressed his people and kept them in twilight. He was not entirely wrong. Arthur believed his power was a sign from God that he was to be the liberator of both Avalon and this world, whether the people in it wanted his liberation or not. I have set my life in opposition to his quest. I was a bard—a singer of songs and writer of poetry—and I was a warrior too, but I never expected to be anything but human. Yet the earth magic claimed me and so I must continue in life until it frees me.”

Taliesin bowed his head. “We were friends once, brothers. I would have followed him to the steps of hell. I suppose I did. I was with him and his army when he attempted to invade the Grey Lands. Only eight of us returned. I saw then that the lives of men, especially those of no magic, meant little to Arthur. I chose a different path after that day.”

“Sir, are you saying you’re a couple of thousand years old?” Lacey’s voice was respectful but disbelieving.

An unreadable expression flickered over Taliesin’s face. “Most accounts of my birth give it as 534 B.C., but I was born a couple of hundred years before. I changed my name when it became clear I would not age and die naturally with the rest of my kin. Taliesin is the name under which I gained the notoriety I bear now, but last August the third was the two thousand, five hundred and twenty-second birthday of a Welsh baby named Gwion Bach.”

“As to what you believe, Miss McInnis, after today it will be none of my concern. I am gathering an army. The hint of magic in your blood will be useful to you in all your pursuits. You are not, however, useful to me. Rowan will give you something we call a fith-fath which will allow you to mask your supernatural side if you feel threatened. There are also herbs and charms you can place around your home as a protection. We will give you the instructions, and as long as you are vigilant, you will be as safe as anyone else is in this world and I will have discharged my duty towards you.”

“That’s it?” she squeaked. “You expect me to go home, scatter a few herbs around, and just forget about everything?” Peter and I looked at each other. We knew Lacey wouldn’t accept being so low on the food chain easily.

Taliesin sat back down behind the desk. “What would you have from me? Your abilities are slight and I need warriors not schoolgirls.”

Lacey folded her arms across her chest. “Miko said I could become a witch.”

Miko rolled her eyes. “I thought you didn’t believe any of this?”

“Of course I do.” Lacey looked around the room. “OK, do you honestly think I’m so stupid that I can’t see what’s right in front of my face?”

I shook my head. “You ran away before the Cŵn Annwn showed itself.”

“I came back. Not all the way, but I could still see what happened. Just like I can always see you. I figured out a long time ago there was something weird about how no one except me ever seemed to notice you. I didn’t know it was magic, but I knew it was something. It was another good reason to try to keep you away from . . .” she broke off and flushed as she glanced at Peter.

Taliesin’s voice hardened. “I am sorry, Miss McInnis, but I have nothing else to offer you. I have enough blood on my hands. I will not add yours.”

“What about me and Rhi?” Peter asked.

It was Daley who answered. “Being a Protector makes you a born warrior which is why you’ve always been so good at sports. If you join us, we can train you to access physical and mental abilities you can’t even imagine now.”

For a moment, Peter looked interested, but then he frowned. “What about college? My parents? I can’t just leave them and take off.”

Daley glanced at his father and they shared a moment of silent communication before he continued. “We can work around that for now. Taliesin is the hub, but the spokes of his army spread out over the entire earth. You will need to spend some time training with us, but then you can go home. All we ask is that if Arthur is awakened, you’ll join us when we call.”

I felt a chill as Peter crossed his arms and ran his thumbnail up and down the groove between his teeth.  He was considering it. The comic book loving, wannabe superhero inside him could never turn down such an opportunity.

“And me?” I asked.

“You are a mystery that we must get to the bottom of,” Taliesin replied. “Mr. Larsen and Miss McInnis may return to their homes, but for the moment, you will stay here with us.”

I stood in alarm, but no colors answered my call. “What do you mean ‘stay here’?”

“You will be our guest until I can determine the nature of your abilities and if you are a threat to our cause.”

Peter was on his feet now too. “That’s ridiculous! How could Rhi possibly be any kind of a threat?”

“Really?” Miko drawled. “And I suppose she didn’t suck the power out of a supernatural watchdog? She’s a mystery and mysteries are always dangerous.”

“You can’t keep me here against my will,” I said.

Tynan spoke up. “Untrained abilities are dangerous. Our father can help you. When he found me, I had no memories of my past and my abilities were erratic.”

“Are erratic,” Miko muttered under her breath.

My breath caught at the hostile expression that flickered over his features. “I knew I needed to earn his trust. Dad is the only one standing between the world and scarier things than the Cŵn Annwn.”

Daley’s eyes seemed to flash with light. “Not to mention you were raised by the high priestess of our enemy. Viviane was as cold-hearted as her moon and either she was lying, or you’re lying about being her daughter. That’s enough reason for us to be careful.”

“Enough.” Taliesin’s tone was mild, but Daley looked down and was silent. Taliesin’s power was in the beautiful tones of his voice and the way everyone listened and obeyed. I could feel it when he turned his attention back to me.

“Viviane’s purposes were always unfathomable. She gave Excalibur to Arthur. Later, she took it from him and aided his betrayer, yet she never returned to her place by her brother’s side. Whatever her true aim, by abandoning Arthur and his people, she lost the worship which her power had become tied to and at last died a mortal death, as you were witness to. I admit that I neither liked nor trusted Viviane. There seemed to be no love in her for either humankind or Greylanders so why would she take you in, a human child?”

I couldn’t answer that, but I didn’t want to stay here. I wondered if I could see Taliesin’s power and maybe do something about it. I closed my eyes and tried, but oily indigo lapped at the edges of my mind like waves at the shore.

It’s some kind of spell.

I opened my eyes in shock. “What have you done to me?” Peter jumped to my side, but I pushed past him to confront Taliesin. “You’ve done something to me! I can see it!”

Tynan stood and moved towards me, but Peter stepped between us with his fists raised. Daley edged closer to his father in case Peter decided to strike in that direction.

“Careful,” Miko murmured. “Protector, remember?”

“I’m not going to hurt Rhiannon,” Daley said. “None of us are.”

I was shaking. “What are you doing to me right now then?”

When Taliesin spoke, his voice was soothing and I could see the muscles in Peter’s shoulders relax a little. “This is one of my abilities: to bind power temporarily. I am holding yours, whatever their true nature, just out of your reach. No lasting harm will come of it.”

“All I can see is indigo blue trying to cover me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “How interesting. Just as with the Cŵn Annwn, you are seeing the manifestation of my power as color.” Taliesin sat back with a sigh. “Give me a show of good faith. Help me to trust you and you will be free to leave and never return if you so wish.”

“And if I don’t co-operate?”

His smile was wintry. “Then I may be forced to conclude that you are not to be trusted.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Taliesin’s message was clear: stay and submit or else.

I shared a look with Peter and he stepped back and was in control of himself again. “OK, I’ll do it, but I’m going to need some stuff if you want me to stay here tonight.”

“Great,” Tynan said eagerly. “I’ll go with Peter to your place. He can get what you need.”

“Thanks, but I need some personal items in my purse now, actually. It’s in my car.” Tynan blushed as I gave him the keys from my jeans pocket. Even barely alluding to feminine products was enough to psych out a teenage boy. I knew Daley was watching so I kept my face blank and innocent.

“It is settled then,” Taliesin declared. “Miss McInnis will wait in the dining room for the fith-fath to be prepared for her and Daley will give Mr. Larsen a greater introduction to our history and methods. Rowan will escort Miss Lynne to her room.” He turned to contemplate the view out the window. It was our cue to go.

Rowan had appeared at the doorway as if summoned by silent command. He gave me a rueful smile. “OK there, kiddo?”

“Just peachy,” I said under my breath as I followed him out of the room and down the hall. Daley gave me a look that promised he would find out all my secrets as he ushered Lacey and Peter back into the dining room.

“It’s going to be all right,” Rowan assured me. He’d known all along how this was going to play out and I hated him a little for making me like him so much at lunch.

I paused on the first step of the staircase. “What’s ‘all right’ about being kept here against my will?”

The man grimaced. “Don’t think of it like that. Taliesin needs to be careful, that’s all. He carries the weight and responsibility of protecting countless lives.”

“Sure, I get it. The leader of a magical army that’s supposed to protect us from King Arthur is afraid of a seventeen year old girl.” Rowan was saved from replying by Tynan bounding up to us and delivering my purse.

“Thanks.” I took a quick look inside to make sure he hadn’t gone through it, but the contents were intact.

Tynan grabbed my hand and pulled me up the stairs. “Rhi’s a guest, not a prisoner. I’ll take her to her room.” I followed Tynan as Rowan watched us from the foyer.

“Here,” Tynan said, pushing open the door to the first room down the hall off the landing, “this is one of the nicest.” It was a bedroom. A bit of relief somewhere in all the cream on cream would have been nice, but a large window showed the forest behind the house and the king-sized bed looked soft enough to accidentally suffocate in.

“I’ll just be a minute.” I brandished my purse and Tynan blushed again.

The bathroom was luxurious. Dropping my purse on the marble vanity, I pulled out my phone and the card from Mom’s room.

Bingo.

Tynan was sitting on the bed waiting for me when I came out. “Isn’t the bathroom great? It’s almost as big as the one in Dad’s room. We’ve had to camp out and use outhouses and latrines before, so this place is great. And the beds are . . .”

“Great?” I interrupted, but I smiled to take the sting out of it.

Tynan laughed. “Yeah.” He threw himself back onto the bed. “C’mon, try it.” I’d almost forgotten how handsome he was behind those shaggy bangs.

Playing along, I climbed into the space beside him and sank deep into the soft covers. It really did feel . . . great.

Tynan propped himself up on one elbow. “Listen, I’ll talk to Dad. He’s not usually so cautious. We lost someone recently and he blames himself. We’ll sort it out and then you can go home, I promise.” I noticed how his voice had changed, how much older he sounded, and how the almost pathological shyness he’d exhibited was gone.

I was suddenly aware of how close we were. I could see the faint line of gold around the brown of his eyes and he smelled like sugar and light sweat. His eyes widened and without warning, he leaned down to kiss me.

Whoa! Down boy!

Pushing myself away with my heels, I banged into the headboard as Tynan fumbled awkwardly to keep from falling on me. As I grabbed at the pillows to prop myself upright, a strange expression crossed his face, dark and ugly.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Miko stood in the doorway, her leather bag under her arm and a grin on her face. Tynan got off the bed while I sat up quickly.

“Relax.” She closed the door and then bounced onto the bed in front of me. “Rowan didn’t like the idea of you two in here alone so I volunteered to act as chaperone, but don’t let me stop you. If Taliesin’s going to go all prison warden on you, you might as well have some fun.”

Watching him from the corner of my eye, I could see that Tynan now looked as embarrassed as I felt. He’d gone back to hanging his head and letting his hair hide his eyes, but his cheeks were red. The best thing to do was to not make a big deal out of it. I pointed at the bag I’d seen Miko carrying around school. “What’s that?”

She pulled out the harp. “I thought it was time you two were properly introduced. Rhi, meet the harp of Binnorie.” The instrument had twisted knots carved all over the sound box and was painted in gold.

Tynan sat back down beside me. “Did Dad say you could do this?”

Miko’s eyes narrowed. “I’m Binnorie’s keeper, not Taliesin. Here.” She pushed the harp into my hands.

Startled, I nearly dropped it; it was heavier than I expected.

“Close your eyes,” Miko said. Triggered by those familiar words, I obeyed.

Thunder shook the ground and my eyes flashed open, but the world around me had changed. I should have been frightened, but I felt calm and distant, as if I were half asleep. I was standing on the banks of a wide river surrounded by misty hills. I heard a sound and turned. Beside me, two girls in long, richly embroidered gowns were arguing. They were both beautiful; one with dark curls bouncing on her shoulders and the other with a cascade of bright hair falling to her waist. In a sudden violent movement, the dark haired girl pushed the other one into the river. She thrashed and struggled to stay afloat, but the weight of her gown and hair kept pulling her under. Sister, the drowning girl cried as she slipped under one last time and was gone.

Another clap of thunder. The river had become a shallow stream and the girl’s body had washed up on the shore. White bones showed through white flesh and I was grateful her tattered gown and golden hair hid most of what was left of her from sight. A man on horseback passed by on the road and when he saw the lovely ruin by the water, he dismounted and wept over it. Retrieving a knife from his saddlebag, he went to work on the body, severing bones and shearing hair.

I was reminded of L’Inconnue de la Seine and the worship of beautiful dead things in the water.

The thunder came again and I was now in a crowded hall where a young couple sat at the head table, whispering to one another and stealing quick kisses. It was a wedding celebration. Beside me was the man who had found the body of the girl and in his hands he held a golden harp.

I walked with him as he approached the bride and groom. The harper placed the harp on the table and sweet music sprang from it entwined with a voice which pierced my soul. It sang of two sisters who loved the same man, but he loved the younger one and her golden hair. It sang of how they walked by the river and how the jealous sister pushed the other one in. It sang of the harper who wept over the body of the drowned girl and then used her bones and hair to make a golden harp.

And then the harp accused the young bride in the hall of murdering her sister Binnorie and marrying Binnorie’s beloved.

No clap of thunder, just a slow fade of the scene as I closed my eyes in the past and opened them in the present.

I took an unsteady breath. “What was that?”

Miko took the harp from my nerveless fingers and put it back in her bag. “You saw?” I nodded. “The harper carved the frame of the harp from Binnorie’s breastbone and made the tuning pegs from her fingers and the strings from her hair. The harp sang the truth of how Binnorie died and Binnorie’s sister was burned at the stake by the same husband she stole. I think after that the harp became obsessed with justice and uncovering hidden truths. I think it helps us find people with talent because they’re hidden too, but it’s not all-knowing and it does send us down some completely useless roads sometimes. Because of the sister’s betrayal, it took me a while to earn the harp’s trust, but it doesn’t trust men at all. It hasn’t forgotten that Binnorie’s beloved transferred his affections to her sister after Binnorie’s death.”

“Is her spirit in the harp?” I was horrified at the thought.

Miko shrugged. “Don’t know, but Binnorie must have had powerful earth magic for her bones and hair to still be alive with it even after her death. Too bad she didn’t discover that before her sister murdered her.”

I shivered. “Where did you find it?”

“It called to me. It led me to one of those old castles in England that’s open to the public. The harp was sitting on a bookshelf, right out in the open, but no one seemed to see it. I don’t know why it chose me, but I became its keeper.”

I crossed my arms. “And now you use it to kidnap people.”

Miko laughed. “Nope, you’re the first.”

Tynan wasn’t amused. “Stop it, Miko. No one’s being kidnapped.”

“Really, Ty? Taliesin’s paranoid and you know it. I mean, I agree we need to get to the bottom of things, but we could try asking the harp instead of locking Rhi up in a tower like Rapunzel. Now that we’ve introduced them, we could do it right now.”

Tynan sat back down on the bed. “No. Not unless Dad says we can.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to get any better acquainted with Binnorie, but I asked anyway, “If the harp is so good at finding truth, why would he say no?”

Miko grimaced. “He doesn’t trust it. Or me.”

“Why not?”

Miko lay back on the bed and pretended to inspect the black polish on her nails.

“It’s the whole fairy thing,” Tynan explained when Miko didn’t respond.

I laughed and then stopped when I saw he was serious.

Time for a little payback.

“You’re a fairy? Don’t fairies have wings and put their hair up in ballet buns and need little children to clap for them or they die?”

With a sigh, Miko pushed herself up on her elbows and glared at me. “OK, listen up, cuz I’m not repeating it. Mom was a fairy—or a sidhe as you better call them whenever über Celt Taliesin is around—and Dad was human. He owned a ritzy department store in Kyoto—still does—and she was the model-slash-girlfriend of a well-known British lingerie designer. Did you know half the models in the world are at least part sidhe? Fairies can retract their wings into their bodies, and who else could look as good in thongs and pushup bras? Anyway, Dad was rich and kind of hot stuff so they hooked up. Mom got pregnant and I ended up with some fairy powers but no wings—genetics are a bitch. As soon as I was born, she dumped me on Dad and took off. Fairies are beautiful, obviously, but also lazy, cruel, and generally stupid. Dad spent a lot of time beating that out of me—literally—so when the harp called, I left and never looked back. Fairy powers are all about glamour and deceit and that makes me good at knowing the truth from a lie and not so good at getting people to trust me.”

Tynan put his arm around the girl’s shoulders. “I trust you, Meek.”

Miko shook him off and rolled her eyes again. “Because you’re an idiot who can’t even remember the first fifteen years of his life. If you did, maybe you’d know better.”

“Wait,” I interrupted, “you were serious about that?’ When Tynan flushed, I regretted asking.

“When Taliesin found him in New York, he was living on the street like an animal. He didn’t even know his own name and his abilities were all over the place.”

Tynan’s face had gone bright red, but Miko was about as sensitive as a wooden spoon. “What about Daley?” I asked to change the subject. I didn’t expect Miko to fall back on the bed laughing in response.

“Don’t,” Tynan warned. “He’ll kill you if he finds out you told her.”

“Oh, who cares!” She flipped over and looked at me with a wicked smile. “It’s too funny to not share. Daley’s been with Taliesin the longest and he’s definitely teacher’s pet. I’ve never seen anyone take Daley down, not even in practice, and he would have more control over the magic side of his abilities if he just tried harder to master it. But back then, nobody would tell me anything about him and even the harp was silent.”

“The harp doesn’t like Daley,” Tynan added.

“The harp is flammable, idiot. Can you blame it? Anyway, like I said, Daley was a mystery so I kept my eye on him.”

“He says you stalked him.”

“Whatever. I was following him one day when the weather turned bad and then it happened . . .”

“What?” I asked, intrigued.

“Daley was hit by lightning.”

“Was he hurt?”

“Nope.”

“I don’t get it.”

Miko paused for dramatic effect.  “He caught it.” She frowned. “So technically, I guess he wasn’t actually hit by the lightning.” She was on her knees now and bouncing on the bed. “C’mon, it’s no fun unless you guess. I’ll give you some clues: lightning, big hammer, imagine Daley with long hair and a beard . . .”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Daley is ‘The Mighty Thor’!” Miko fell back on the bed as she exploded into a fit of giggles.

“He’s not Thor,” Tynan said and then frowned and shook his bangs out of his eyes. “Except, in a way, he kind of is.”

I shook my head. “What?”

“Daley is descended from the Greylander who came here and used his power over the weather to make himself the god of thunder. The people in the North called him Thor, but he had names in other places—Summanus, Tlaloc, Thunderbird—it was all the same guy. The old gods did that all the time. To the Celts he was Taranis.”

Miko snorted. “And because Taliesin is like a billion years old and still thinks Britain is the center of the universe, we all use the Celtic names even though half of those are the Roman versions that got written down. But don’t try telling Tal that. Practically all of the earth magicians alive follow him, so it’s become a ‘thing’.” She air quoted.

Tynan shrugged. “It would be too confusing to use all the different names. Most of the old gods are gone anyway.”

“They died?” I asked. “Isn’t immortality the definition of a god?”

“They lost their powers. None of them were probably truly immortal, except maybe Cernunnos, but thousands of years can feel like it. Without their powers, most died sooner rather than later. A few still hold on. Becoming a god is tricky. When people worship you, it enhances and increases your power. But when the people who worshipped you stop or die off . . .”

“The power dies too?” I jumped to the logical conclusion.

“And not just the new power, but the amount you were born with too. It all gets mixed up together. That’s what happened to Viviane, I mean, your mom.”

I thought of how quickly the sickness came on and how her organs shut down one by one. “No one’s been worshipping her for a long time. Why did it happen now?”

He shrugged and brushed his hair back. “Viviane was once incredibly powerful, but to you she seemed like an ordinary person. The Lady of the Lake was never seen again after Arthur was defeated. She’d probably been dying for years and it finally caught up with her.”

I felt sick as Tynan plowed on. “I don’t know if Taranis is dead or not, but Daley’s the first person in three thousand years to inherit the same abilities. Daley’s parents adopted him, so no one knows which one of his ancestors Taranis hooked up with. He’s a Protector too.”

Miko grabbed the blanket at the end of the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders, striking a pose. “Well I’m going to keep calling him Thor. I bought him a cape last Christmas but he never wears it. Maybe I should get him a helmet this year.”

Tynan tossed a pillow at her head which she ducked. “Maybe you should stop teasing him about it.” It made me think of Peter.

“So Daley’s like Peter?” I asked.

“Sort of. He’s your bonded Protector. You don’t know what that means yet, but he’d die to protect you.”

“I’d do the same for him. He’s my best friend.”

Tynan shook his head. “It’s not the same. You can choose to do it, but Peter has to do it. He’ll protect you even if it means letting someone else he loves get hurt. Daley’s different. Taranis wasn’t just the god of thunder. There are ancient references to his powers that no one understands. His symbol was a chariot wheel with eight spokes.”

My breath caught. The little charm tucked under my sleeve also had eight spokes. I pushed the bracelet a little farther up my wrist. For some reason, I didn’t want anyone to see it.

“The wheel is a symbol of fate. Dad thinks part of Daley’s inheritance is the responsibility to be a judge over the gods, to decide their fate. I don’t know what that means, but we all get pretty big guilt trips from him whenever one of us screws up.” Tynan laughed but there was an edge to it.

Miko was watching him. “Daley’s a bully sometimes, but even I know he loves you, Ty.” She paused and bit her lip. “More than anyone else alive on earth.”

Tynan looked up and Miko shrugged and gave him a funny smile.

I think I’m missing something.

She glanced at me. “Daley’s completely full of it sometimes, but he’s as hard on himself as he is on everyone else. Taliesin plans for him to fill the void when Arthur is defeated once and for all. ”

“Don’t ever say that. There’s only one Earth King.” Tynan’s voice was harsh.

Miko frowned. “Maybe. And maybe not. I do know Daley doesn’t want to be the judge of the gods.”

I didn’t understand. “But you said the gods are all dead or powerless now.”

Miko slipped off the bed and readjusted her ponytails in the mirror over the dresser. “That’s the old gods. There are still gods on earth. Gods who can speak to harps, command armies, take power from a Cŵn Annwn . . .”

Tynan’s eyes were sad. “We’re the gods Dad believes Daley is destined to judge.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Us?”

“Yup.” Miko pulled out some eyeliner from her bag and began thickening and winging the black lines around her eyes. “But what happens when the gods go to war and judging one magic user means betraying another, or protecting a human means ignoring one of his own kind? Rowan started a bet that Lord Thor’s mind won’t be able to handle it and he’ll go berserk and kill us all.” She smirked. “I may have let that slip one day when Daley was being particularly annoying.”

Tynan brushed my hand with his. I tried not to pull away. “Daley’s always searching through old books and checking out ancient sites where Taranis was worshipped to see if he can find out anything about what he’s supposed to do with his power.”

Miko threw her eyeliner down on the dresser. “And maybe Daley should decide for himself. Just because some moldy old book or a scratching on a pillar in a field tells him something, it doesn’t mean he has to do it.”

Tynan looked down so his hair fell over his cheeks and I couldn’t see his eyes. “Fate is fate. You can’t escape it. Maybe it’s better to know who you’re supposed to be, even if you don’t like it.”

I thought about that for a moment. “I don’t believe in fate,” I decided.

Miko bounced back on the bed. “Me neither. I say, if all Daley wants to do with his power is roast hotdogs with it, then why not?”

All this talk about Daley conjured images in my mind—powerful images that stirred something inside me more deeply than Tynan’s quick kiss had.

The front door slammed. There were voices and then one rose above them all.

“You can produce the girl now or my men will go and search for her, and they don’t play so nice with things like Italian leather furniture and fancy ceramic doodads. Or doors. You’ll lose your security deposit for sure, Taliesin.” This was said in an English accent so broad it was almost comical and followed by a booming laugh I could somehow feel as well as hear.

That’s my cue.

“Sorry guys. You should try to remember to get rid of any cell phones the next time you kidnap someone.” I grabbed my purse and walked out the door.

“Ah, this must be Miss Lynne.” The man at the bottom of the stairs was an impressive sight. Tall and broad shouldered, he wore a dark green suit accented by the triangle of a handkerchief in a brighter green in the breast pocket. His beard was full and bushy, and the tawny red hair spilling onto his shoulders was as masculine as the mane of a lion. The man stood in the center of a tableau that included Peter, Lacey, and two other bearded men on one side, and Rowan, Daley, and Taliesin on the other.

“Mr. Goodfellow?” I asked as I came down the stairs. Miko and Tynan had caught up, but I ignored Tynan’s hand brushing my arm as if to stop me.

Up close, I could see that the man’s eyes were also bright green, and it was a sprig of holly in his pocket. Drops of moisture like dew clung to his hair and beard, but the day was dry and sunny.

“Of course, my dear, I came as soon as I received your message. Viviane told me you might be in touch.” His face became serious. “The world is darker with her passing.”

“Thank you.”

Pulling out a card from the inside pocket of his jacket, Goodfellow offered it to Taliesin but the bard waved it away with a tight smile. “Do not mock me, Silvanus. I know who you are, though I have only had dealings with your cousins.”

“Yes, you and your kind make quite free use of my kin. But call me Robin Goodfellow, Bard. The name Silvanus died with the Romans.”

“And I thought the Lord of the Forest no longer ventured onto the Paths to visit the human world.”

Goodfellow shrugged. “True. You and your earth magicians have bound my kin to ferry your asses to and fro ‘round the world, but I’ve eluded being pulled into this little jihad you and Morgan are working your way up to. That doesn’t mean I’ve given up all care for what happens in the wider world outside the Greenwood.”

Daley and Rowan had been watching the exchange with confused looks on their faces, but Rowan seemed to suddenly understand something and stepped forward. “Lord Forest,” he said, bowing from the waist.

“It's just a Path guide, Rowan . . . ,” Daley said and then his eyes widened. “Are you saying this is the Green Man?”

“The Green Man, Silvanus, Jack in the Green, the Green Knight, Robin Goodfellow, even Robin Hood—they are all his names,” Rowan replied reverently. “He is the Lord of the Forest and the Keeper of the Paths.” One glance at Peter and I could see he was almost overcome by the thought he was standing in the same room as Robin Hood. I wasn’t so enthusiastic.

Couldn’t Mom have a nice, normal, human friend I could rely on instead of another addition to the freak show?

Robin Goodfellow scratched at his beard, but he looked pleased. “It’s nice to be recognized. As for my younger kin, you may call them ‘guides’ if you wish.” He glared at Daley. “But remember they serve at my discretion and allowance.”

“Take care, Lord Forest.” Taliesin’s voice was quiet, but I could hear the warning in it. Goodfellow seemed to shrink a little.

I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks Taliesin’s one scary dude.

The so-called Green Man gestured towards me. “Viviane asked me to come if ever Miss Lynne needed me. Miss Lynne called, so she’s leaving with me, end of argument.”

Daley was unimpressed. “Do you think you can take her if we don’t want you to?” Either my colors were coming back or there were actual sparks of static electricity dancing in Daley’s hair. Goodfellow flinched.

Wood doesn’t like fire.

Taliesin put his hand on Daley’s shoulder. “Easy, son. There is no need for us to be at odds. Miss Lynne has formed the impression she is being held here against her will and I apologize for that unfortunate misunderstanding. I am merely concerned for both her safety and the safety of others until she has greater knowledge and control concerning her abilities.”

I’d had enough. “I’ve been around for nearly eighteen years and haven’t managed to kill anyone yet, you know.”

“For nearly eighteen years you were hidden in the dark of the moon,” Taliesin replied. He meant Mom and whatever she’d done to me with that misty blue.

Taliesin crossed the floor to stand in front of me. He wasn’t tall and we were almost eye to eye. “If you are no enemy to us, then I am no enemy to you. I will help you understand who and what you are and you will be free to choose your own path and destiny as long as it does not threaten mine.”

“I want to go home,” I insisted stubbornly.

“Will you at least return so we may investigate this ability of yours? Will you give us a chance to prove that we, at least, mean no harm?”

I gave in. “I could come with Peter after school on Monday.”

Peter cleared his throat. “Sorry Rhi, but I’m staying for a few days.”

“What? Why?”

“There are other Protectors here. They’re out on patrol right now, but I’ll meet them when they get back. This might be my one chance to learn about what I am.” His eyes pleaded with me to understand.

I knew if I insisted, I could probably get Peter to come home with me, but would that be abusing the bond between us? Would I be yanking on his Protector chain or the friend one?

“What are you going to tell your mom and dad?”

“Early morning practices, crashing with one of the guys—it’ll be easy.”

I nodded and the relief on his face confirmed my suspicion that I could have made it difficult for him to go against me.

“I’ll cover for you with your parents, but what about school?”

Lacey had been uncharacteristically quiet till now. “I’ve got it,” she said. “If I take in a note to the office saying Peter has mono or something, they’ll never question the signature.” She was right. The staff loved Lacey and would just be happy the most popular boy and the most popular girl were back together. Peter thanked her, but for once, Lacey didn’t respond to his attention.

Maybe it bums her out to know people only love her because she has lorelei blood in her veins.

Goodfellow clapped his hands together. “Then it’s settled. I will escort Miss Lynne to her car. If she wants to come back of her own free will later then that’s her business.”

“Will you return then?” Taliesin asked.

I tried not to hesitate. “I’ll come on Monday after school.”

Taliesin nodded once to me and once to Goodfellow before turning and walking away. His footsteps made no sound.

“The bard preserves his skills I see,” The Green Man commented. “Many a time he once padded through my forests, as silent as the wind.” He glared at Daley and his electrified hair. “Now he contents himself with using my kin like pack mules to deliver himself through the Paths of the world.”

Rowan cleared his throat. “Lord Forest, you know that’s not strictly true. They are not your Paths to control.”

Goodfellow grunted and lifted one shaggy eyebrow. “Are they not? Without me and mine, you’d be lost if you tried to walk them. The Paths are the ghosts of the forests of the world, and only those of my kind are truly welcomed by them. Remember that, Druid, the next time you order yourself up a Guide.”

“Yes, my lord,” Rowan murmured, bowing from the waist.

I gasped and turned to Rowan in panic. “Wait! Get Taliesin back! He left that indigo inside me.”

“It’s OK, kiddo. I’m the one who’s been maintaining it. A binding dissipates quickly. To slow it down, I channeled it into the wood frame of the house. I’ll remove it now.”

Goodfellow chuckled. “You can take the druid out of the forest, but it seems you can’t take the forest completely out of the druid.”

Rowan made a complicated gesture with his right hand. Indigo cleared from my vision like a fog lifting, but a confusing mash-up of colors replaced it and blinded me for a moment. When I looked at Goodfellow, I thought I saw colors surrounding him: emerald, moss, and sage.

He motioned to the door and we all followed him outside. His men walked away into the trees on the one side of the property, but before I could ask where they were going, I had to jump out of the way as Lacey got in her car and sped off in a squeal of tires.

Peter pulled me aside. “Are you going to be OK?”

I forced myself to smile. “Of course I will. Go on. Go play with your new friends.” He ruffled my hair before walking back to the house. The door was still open and I could see Miko sitting on the stairs playing with her hair. Daley stood on the porch looking, well, thunderous was the best way to put it. Tynan joined him and gave a small wave, but I turned away without responding. I would have to sort out how I felt about what happened when I didn’t feel like I was going to hurl.

Following Goodfellow to my car, I nearly ran straight into his broad back when he stopped abruptly. He sniffed the air and then I smelled it too: the briny odor of seaweed. In all the drama, I’d forgotten about what Peter and I had discovered.

“Take care, Miss Lynne.” Goodfellow shook his head and sniffed again. “Something may be hunting you.” After that horrifying statement, he smiled and plucked the holly out of his pocket. The red berries gleamed against the greenish tint of his skin. “Place this over your door. Holly is a symbol of life, but its sign was a spear; it will keep most unwanted things from entering. Once upon a time, maidens would put it under their pillows in the hopes of dreaming of the man they would marry, but the holly may also bring dreams of another kind and it’s wise to pay attention.”

I took it, careful to not catch my fingers on the prickly tips of the leaves. “Thank you for helping me out.”

He raised a shaggy eyebrow. “I’ve watched Gwion Bach since he was a child. Taliesin he calls himself now. He has power and even one such as myself should be careful not to anger him, but still, he’s a pompous ass, isn’t he?”

I nearly choked on my own spit as I laughed, even though a pounding whirl of colors was the price and I had to lean against the car to steady myself.

Goodfellow handed me another one of his cards with an address scribbled on the back. “Come and see me tomorrow around noon. I have something for you from Viviane.”  When I looked at him in surprise, he shook his head and didn’t elaborate. In an old-fashioned gesture, he held my hand to help me into my car and then closed the door behind me. Then he walked into the trees and disappeared from sight. I tried to see where he went, but the forest had swallowed him whole.

I placed the card and the holly on the passenger seat and gunned it out of the driveway without waiting to see if anyone was still watching from the house. If I thought too hard about colors and magic and things hunting me, I would never have the courage to go home, but I’d made too much of a fuss about leaving to just turn around and admit I was afraid to go.

As I drove, my returning colors grew bolder. I’d always been able to see them and still see the world normally, but they were more tangible now, as if they hung in the air in front of me. My head hurt. Somehow I made it home and got to the bathroom before I vomited violently. Falling onto my bed, I collapsed into sleep, but color followed me even there.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Maybe it was because of the holly, but the nightmare was subtly different. I looked up from the warm embrace of the woman who carried me and saw a young man following us, though the light was too dim to make out his features clearly. The woman stopped and turned to speak to him, but I couldn’t hear the words; the dream had always been silent except for the sound of her heart and my own breathing. She began walking with increased urgency and so did the young man though he kept his distance. With a familiar gesture, he brushed long hair out of his eyes.

I woke with a start.

It’s just a dream. People see crazy things in dreams.

I could hear the drizzle of rain falling on the roof and the light filtering through the blinds was grim. Reaching for the glass of water and bottle of acetaminophen on my bedside table, I swallowed a couple of pills and closed my eyes until my headache receded.

After I showered and dressed, I decided to go to the bakery. It was a little bit of a drive, but it was the only place local that sold French macarons. When Peter and his parents went to church—they were heavily involved in their local congregation—Mom would never let me go with them. She would go to the bakery and get a box of macarons—jewel colored meringues shaped like UFOs with jam or cream in the center. I thought it was our special ritual, but maybe she was just pawning me off with a treat to keep me from wanting to go with them.

I suppose it’s reasonable that a god might not want her kid to spend her Sundays learning about a rival one.

As I left the house, I checked the sprig of holly to make sure it was still wedged into the loose piece of siding above the door. Even after a chilly night, it was fresh and green.

The bakery was quieter than usual because of the rain and only one of the tables was occupied. I breathed in the sweet smell of sugar. Ordering a dozen macarons in raspberry, pistachio, and salted caramel, I promised myself I would save some for later, but knew I’d end up eating them all before lunch.

As I waited for my order to be boxed, I realized the group sitting at the table was watching me. I wasn’t used to people paying attention to me yet and mauve discomfort filled me. When the waitress handed me my change, I rushed out of the café, fumbling in my pocket for my keys.

“What’s your hurry?”

Startled, I dropped the keys on the pavement as a woman walked around me. She bent down to pick them up and held them in front of my face.  I snatched them back and shoved them in my pocket.

We stared at each other. The woman’s skin was pale and drops of moisture clung to the fiery red strands that had escaped from the elaborate braid draped over her shoulder. Around her neck she wore a thick gold choker open at the center and engraved with strange symbols. I blinked first; the rain had turned to a fine mist that coated my lashes.

The rest of the group wandered out to join her, two men and another woman. They all wore black though the styles varied. The woman in front of me wore a leather jacket belted at the waist, leggings, and low-heeled boots.

Looks like someone rented the Matrix.

I made a move to walk past her and she countered to block me. “So you’re the Anomaly.” She almost spat it. There were some sniggers from the others. This was a gang—a very stylish one—but still a gang.

I was surprised. No one had ever noticed me enough to bully me. “Yup, that’s me, the big old anomaly. Who the hell are you?”

The woman smirked. She knew who I was so she had to be one of Taliesin’s Protectors. He may have backed down, but there was a real threat here, I was sure of it.

I tried to remember what I’d done by instinct when I faced the Cŵn Annwn. Closing my eyes, I tried to use my interior vision to see the power inside this woman—because she had power, I was sure of it. There was more laughter, but I forced myself to concentrate. The Cŵn Annwn was pure and simple, but as the outline of her form appeared in my mind, it was filled with an elusive and shifting landscape of color. A couple of hues dominated—gold and red—but tainting them all was a black that charred the others wherever it touched them.

I reached out my hand and heard her intake of breath when I brushed her arm. I shuddered. I could feel the blackness emanating from inside and eddying around her. The woman pushed me away but not before I managed to grasp some of it.

There was shouting, but I ignored it. In my mind, I looked at the strand of blackness held in the mental image of my hand.  It felt like despair. It felt like power fed by strong emotion.  Power used to hurt.

Hurt just for the sick satisfaction of it.

The dark power seemed to acknowledge my recognition; it twisted in my hand and changed its shape into a whip. When I imagined snapping it at the ground, I heard the crack. Pain shot through me and I opened my eyes.

So much for synesthesia.

I held a length of some black substance in my hand and by the shocked look on the woman’s face, I knew she could see it too.  Pulling the trailing end across the wrist of the hand still holding the pastry box, I could feel its slithering weight on my arm. I snapped it at the ground between us and the woman jumped back while the others gathered in a frightened knot behind her.

A whip was the right shape for it. I wasn’t sure how I knew, but this power was used to torment, even torture. I wondered if the woman knew. I wondered if she’d ever used it on anyone.

Shaking the black rope off, I grabbed the woman by the arm. Before she could resist, I closed my eyes to see the aura of color surrounding her and then hooked my fingers into it. She shoved me away, but I held on and pulled with mental, physical, and maybe even spiritual effort. After a brief resistance, black power flowed out of her and rushed towards me. I fell onto my back on the wet pavement as it surrounded me. It poked and prodded at me, trying to find a way in, but I held my breath and kept my eyes shut tight. I couldn’t let it in the way I did with the Cŵn Annwn’s power. I didn’t want to know what this dark magic felt like.

The pressure disappeared. I opened my eyes and saw black smoke pluming into the air to be shredded and washed away by the rain.

I pushed myself up into a crouch. The pastry box was still in my left hand and I had to use my right to steady myself as I got to my feet. The woman stared at me, panting, before turning and walking away. She gestured and the others followed.

Nausea hit me as the pounding in my head doubled. I got the keys out of my pocket, but they slipped from my fingers and it took me two tries before I could pick them up. Stumbling to the car, I slid in and tossed the pasty box on the passenger seat, but a terrible smell cut through the pain and I pried open the lid. The macarons were ash that steamed and stank.

I threw the box out the window.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I parked in front of a building on a side street downtown and checked the back of Goodfellow’s card to make sure I was at the right address. The place was abandoned and there were no other cars in the small parking lot. I expected it to be locked, but the front door opened into a dingy vestibule with an old elevator on one side and a roped off stairway on the other. I made my choice and pushed the cracked and yellowed elevator button. When the door jerked open and I stepped in, I tried not to imagine rusty cables breaking and sending me hurtling down to the ground in a heap of twisted steel.

The ancient contraption creaked its way to the next floor, and after a jolt, the door opened again and I stepped into a spacious foyer of white marble and walls covered in elegant grass cloth. The air was cool and damp.

“Hello?”

“Miss Lynne? Is that you?” Goodfellow emerged from around a corner wiping his hands on a frilly tea towel. He was dressed in head to toe green again. “I wasn’t expecting you for another hour. Is everything all right?”

After the incident with the woman, I hadn’t wanted to be alone and had come straight over, but all I said was, “I didn’t mean to be early. I’m sorry if I’m interrupting anything.”

He waved my apology away and tossed the towel back into what must be the kitchen. “Not a problem, my dear. Come into the living room and we’ll have a little chat.”

I followed him into a large room decorated in green and white and then almost immediately sank weak-kneed into the closest chair. Outside the floor to ceiling windows, trees stretched for miles and faded into distant, foggy mountains.

You’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.

“Where are we?”

Goodfellow held out his arms as if he could embrace the view. “One of my favorite places in all the world—Gwydyr Forest in the heart of Snowdonia. Wilder than Sherwood, more open than the Black Forest—pine and spruce and a view of great Snowdon peak itself.”

I had to swallow before I could speak again. “Snowdon?”

“The highest mountain in Wales.”

I stood and walked to the window to touch the tips of my fingers to the cold glass. It was real. We were in a house perched on the edge of a small, rocky lake. Trees swept away from it on all sides.

“How did I get here?”

I heard Goodfellow sigh. “I can’t believe Viviane left you so ignorant. Why would she do such a thing?”

I had no answer.

Goodfellow folded his arms across his massive chest. “How did you get here? How did I get you away from Taliesin and his people? It’s because of the Paths. I might not be able to defy the bard completely, but he knows I could tell my kin to make themselves scarce, if you know what I mean. I could make it quite difficult for him to traipse back and forth across the world with his army.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You know about the Wall?” I nodded. “Before the Wall, the Paths were used to travel through the world or to Avalon when the way was still open. The Paths were once part of the ancient forests covering the earth when the magic of creation still flickered among the trees. Those first forests were sentient and allowed creatures to pass through them, or not, at their pleasure. Thus, the Paths were born and I found them.”

His voice twisted. “Eventually I found Cernunnos at the end of one of them. But all things must pass away and new forests were born which had no thought and did not grieve or rage when they were paved over for strip malls and condos. But the ghosts of those original forests remember and their Paths remain. Except for me and my kin, few can find them. Of all the earth magicians, Arthur had the best sense of them, except for . . .” The Green Man shook his head and walked away, leaving the sentence unfinished.

I followed him. “Except for who?”

He shook his head again. “It doesn’t matter. Someone who is lost and gone.”

I was hungry for answers. “Who are your kin then?”

Goodfellow sat down on one of the white leather couches in the center of the room. “I am the Green Man and can walk any Path, but there are lesser beings who can also find them. I call them my kin and the earth magicians call them Guides. They are creatures of the forest—wood sprites, dryads, tree fairies—a network created to transport the earth magicians through the world. To their credit, the magicians are usually fair in their payment, but some have the power to force the Guides if they chose to.”

“But not you.”

“No. I am old, Miss Lynne, very old. In a way that I can’t explain to you, I’m a part of those first forests. I feel them still.”

I glanced back at the elevator door at the end of the hall. “I didn’t exactly come here through a leafy trail.”

Goodfellow laughed. “I can make a Path look like anything I want, even an elevator in an abandoned office building.”

Sitting down on the matching couch across from Goodfellow, I noticed the long wooden box and thick folder on the glass table between us. “I really appreciate your help yesterday, but why did you want to see me?” As an answer, he handed me the folder and I opened it and dumped out the contents on the table. There were several bank books, bank cards, and a document which turned out to be a birth certificate with my name on it.

“It’s a fake, but a good one. Viviane had several made up over the years when she needed to. She destroyed them after she used them.”

“Why?” I asked in surprise.

“Names have power, even names on paper. It wasn’t my place to ask what she was protecting you from. Perhaps she was just being cautious.”

I took a closer look at the paper in my hand. It looked authentic to me. “You did this?”

The Green Man’s laughter shook the windows. “I’ve kept up with the times, but not to the point of becoming a master counterfeiter. There’s a banshee in Dublin who’s the best in the business. Banshees know when someone is about to die. This one started out in identity theft and then diversified. The money is real though. I made all the deposits myself. You have ample funds in several institutions and currencies around the world.”

I flipped open one of the bank books and gasped. “Where did all this come from?”

Goodfellow shrugged. “As a goddess, Viviane had received tribute from her worshippers, but most of it was gone by the time she asked me to take care of her affairs. The Seer of New York gave me a heads up back in the Seventies that a certain company with, shall we say, a very common fruit as its logo would be worth following.” He winked at me. “Even a god is well served by a few good investments. I didn’t do too badly myself.”

“Why didn’t she give this to me herself? How could she even know I would find your card and contact you?”

Goodfellow’s smile slipped away. “She didn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“Viviane was explicit in her instructions. I was to deliver these items to you and provide any assistance you might need, but only if you contacted me. A test of fate, she called it. All she said was that events had not transpired as she had once planned and she would not force their shape going forward. She had left things in place for you, but that greater gods than she would need to guide you to them, or away as fate decreed. I didn’t understand it, but then, you know how she was.” He seemed embarrassed, but I didn’t know if was for himself or for Mom. “Miss Lynne, can I get you something to drink? I was just making some tea when you came in.”

“No, I’m fine. What’s in the box?” I asked bluntly. He was trying to distract me from the last item on the table.

“Smart girl,” the Green Man murmured. Clasping his hands and leaning forward, he considered me intently. “I’ll be straight with you. When Viviane told me what she wanted me to retrieve and keep for you, I was shocked. I tried to argue with her, but she wouldn’t listen.  ‘Only if Rhiannon comes to you,’ she said, ‘only if she asks.’ Since I figured it was highly unlikely, I agreed. I went to the location Viviane gave me and recovered this box, but I don’t have to give it to you unless you ask. And believe me, Miss Lynne, you don’t want to ask. Some things are better left hidden.”

I wanted the answers Mom offered me in death that she’d denied me in life.  “I’m sorry. You’ve been good to me, but I have to ask. Will you please give me what my mother left me?’

Goodfellow sighed as he slid the long box across the table toward me. It scraped across the glass; whatever was in it was heavy. Flipping open the silver clasp on the side, I lifted the hinged lid to reveal a long shaft of distorted grey and yellow metal. Something had been melted and left to harden into an ugly mess, but I couldn’t tell what. Goodfellow made a soft noise and I looked up to see tears running down his cheek and into his beard.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Excalibur,” he whispered.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I spent most of the night too excited to sleep. The Excalibur—sword of legend and magic—was wrapped in a t-shirt in my underwear drawer.

How cool is that?

I was up and ready for school too early, but there was less chance of running into Peter’s parents if I left at an unexpected time. I parked in the half empty lot and was dropping my books off in my locker when a dry voice said, “How wonderful it is to see a student arrive on time these days.”

My heart jumped and pink sparkles danced across my vision. An older woman with short grey hair stood in the classroom doorway across from my locker.

“Oh, hi, Mrs . . .” The teacher seemed familiar, but I couldn’t think of her name.

The woman cocked her head at me like a bird. “Come.” She motioned for me to enter the classroom. “I would like to discuss something with you.”

“OK.” I followed her and sat down at a desk in the front row. She remained standing.

“I am Cailleach,” she introduced herself. “I am taking over Senior English for the rest of the term.” I fidgeted in my seat as she fell silent and stared at me with round, strangely opaque eyes. There was a strange flapping sound. Out of the corner of my eye I caught the impression of white wings beating against one of the windows, but when I turned to look, there was nothing there.

“Calm yourself, Miss Lynne,” she murmured. “There is much we need to discuss.”

The woman tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and I realized I did know her. “You were there!” I said in surprise.

The woman frowned, but before either of us could speak, Miko poked her head in through the open doorway.

“I thought I saw you come in here. We need to . . .” Miko faltered. Rushing forward and grabbing me by the wrist, she pulled me out of the classroom. “I need Rhi right away!”

“Sorry,” I muttered as I passed the woman. “I need to go.”

Ms. Cailleach never spoke a word, but I imagined I felt her watching us all the way down the hall until we turned a corner. We were inside the nearest bathroom before Miko slowed down.

“What were you doing with her?” she demanded.

I pulled away and rubbed at my wrist—the fairy’s black-tipped nails had left crescent-shaped marks on my skin. “She said her name was Ms. Cailleach. She’s the new English teacher.”

“No, no, no!” Miko had her hair pulled into a high ponytail and it was shaking back and forth furiously. “Not Ms. Cailleach, just Cailleach.” She stressed the pronunciation of the name—kaliex. “That was the Ancient Owl, the White Woman, the Great Hag!”

“What are you talking about?”

Miko looked like she wanted to strangle me. “Don’t you know anything? Think of the eternal archetypes: Maiden, Mother, Crone. Every culture in the world fears the Crone.”

I leaned back against the side of one of the stalls. “A Crone or the Crone?”

More exaggerated shrugging and eye rolling. “How should I know?  The Celts called her Cailleach, but she has other names in other places. Maybe there’s one. Maybe there’s a whole bunch. Who cares? She’s Beira, the Queen of Winter, and she rises at Samhain to bring death to the world!”

Great.

I went to the sink and splashed some water on my face. “I’ve seen her before.”

“What?”

I watched Miko through the mirror. “She came to the hospital the day my mother died. I didn’t recognize her at first because her hair was in a long braid that she had wrapped around her waist.”

Miko was pacing now. “Cailleach cut her hair? That has to mean something.”

I grabbed some paper towel and patted my face dry. “Like what?”

She stopped and frowned. “I don’t know. Cutting hair can be a way to show grief or begin a new phase of life. Sometimes hair holds power—think of Samson or Rapunzel.” Miko snorted. “I finally caught that cartoon on DVD, by the way. All the parents who took their kiddies to see it would wet themselves if they knew Rapunzel was actually a serial killer who used her hair to open locks from the inside.”

I scrunched the paper towel into a ball. “Please don’t ever, ever tell me anything that horrible ever again.” I shuddered. “So Cailleach is going to kill us all in our sleep? Or should I be more worried about Cinderella showing up to take us out with Uzis?”

“You really don’t know anything, do you.” It wasn’t a question. “Cailleach isn’t evil. She just is the same way winter is—and just as dangerous. Let the witch do her thing and don’t get in her way.” Miko smirked at me. “And I don’t know about Cinderella, but Snow White was a baobhan sith who used her fingernails to slit her victim’s throats.”

She dodged the paper ball I threw at her face.

I opened the door a crack and peeked out, but the hallway was empty. “C’mon.”

Miko followed me into the hall. “Taliesin did say that once word started to spread about you, others would come.”

“But how would she even know?”

“She knew Viviane. And most high-level Greylanders have their ways. Are there owls in the barns at your place?”

I thought of the beating of wings at the window. “Yeah.”

“Owls are sacred to Cailleach. Maybe that’s how she found out.”

Owl spies—it gets better and better.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Miko had somehow scored Taliesin’s Jag so we left my car in the lot. Miko drove too fast and had a tendency to grind through the gears. I hoped she was casting some sort of glamour over us because she would get her license taken away if we passed a cop.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

She grinned. “I think we need to eat breakfast and then drop a whole lot of money on crap we’ll never wear.”

I grinned back. “Agreed.”

A few minutes later, we were sitting in the only restaurant at the Center open for breakfast. The rest of the complex was empty except for senior citizens doing a walking class and a few women with babies in strollers waiting for the stores to open. I’d ordered waffles and Miko was devouring an obscene mound of bacon, sausage, and egg.

Maybe Peter’s right about the superhero metabolism.

“So this Cailleach, have you ever met her before?”

Miko shook her head and mumbled something around a mouthful of sausage.

I laughed. “What?’

She gulped down some juice and swallowed. “Sorry. I told you magic makes you hungry.”

“You were doing magic?”

She arched her eyebrow at me. “Interesting that you couldn’t tell. To use sci-fi parlance, I was cloaking us from the moment we left Cailleach until we sat down here. We were a couple of football jocks at the school and then two senior citizens doing the speed limit in a Jetta.”

It felt like ants were walking across my back. “So Cailleach is big time dangerous as opposed to run of the mill, every day dangerous then?”

Miko snorted. “Who isn’t in our world? The question is whether she’s dangerous to you. She came to see Viviane when she died, so that’s a plus. Maybe she cut her hair in mourning. Your mother was a real big deal once upon a time.”

“I know what Taliesin said but what could she want with me?”

“Are you kidding? The Lady of the Lake called you her child. You have a mysterious, unknown power. The great Taliesin is frightened of you. Even Morgan-le-friggin-fay accepts you! Everyone is going to try to use you to their advantage.”

I dropped my fork as the waffles heaved in my stomach.

“Whoa,” Miko said in alarm, “are you OK?”

I nodded but didn’t trust myself to speak.

Miko shook her head. “Sorry, but Viviane was cruel to not tell you about any of this. She must have known how dangerous it would be for you once she was gone.”

I didn’t answer until I was sure the waffles weren’t going to make a reappearance. “A test of fate,” I murmured.

“Huh?”

“Something Goodfellow said to me. Maybe Mom wasn’t sure what to do and she decided to leave it to fate.”

Miko gnawed on a piece of bacon. “Maybe.” Shaking her head and dropping the bacon, the fairy pushed her plate away. “Let’s talk about something else. Me first. Is Peter as much of a boy scout as he seems?”

“More.”

“Too bad. Though I suppose it would be a step up from my last two boyfriends.”

“Why? What were they like?”

Miko held up two black-nailed fingers as she counted. “Boyfriend number one—psychopath. Boyfriend number two—vampire.”

Vampire and psychopath aren’t mutually inclusive?

“Vampires are real?”

“Unfortunately. There are a lot of different blood-loving creatures—like our friend Snow White—but true vampires are rare and most of them keep a low profile. All those books and movies mean even the stupidest human knows how to pick one out and kill it.”

I couldn’t help myself. “So what are they like?”

Miko rolled her eyes. “Forget all the crap in all the teen paranormal romance books you’ve ever read. I wish they would. Vamps have bought into their own press in the last few years; they all think they’re tortured and misunderstood. The truth is they just like to drink blood. They don’t even need to. They could get by just fine on cheeseburgers and pizza if they wanted. The one I dated even had acne.”

I sputtered and tried not to lose the mouthful of cranberry juice I’d just sipped. “So why did you date him then?”

Miko looked embarrassed. “I hate to admit it, but I bought into the whole tortured soul routine too. It was before I left home. Business was bad. Dad wasn’t taking it well. Dad was taking it out on me with his fists. The guy with the really white teeth who played bass in a punk band seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“What happened?”

She grinned. “Well, you know the story. Boy meets girl. Boy turns out to be a vampire. Boy tries to eat girl. Girl kicks boy in the nuts.”

I knew I was opening myself up to all kinds of ridicule, but I couldn’t help it. “And werewolves?” I asked eagerly.

“Dirty. Hairy. Smelly. More interested in camping than killing anyone. They usually end up on the west coast and become snowboarders. And forget the turning at every full moon thing. They can’t control it, but most of them only turn once a year or so when there’s a supermoon.”

“Is that even a real thing?”

“Of course, dummy. Even though I had to lurk around your crummy school to flush you guys out, I graduated early and even have a few college credits.” She straightened in her seat and pointed her finger at me. “A supermoon—or ‘perigee moon’ as we Astronomy 101 grads call it—is the moon when it is closest in its orbit to the Earth.”

“And what about the psychopath?”

Miko’s smile faded away. “Nothing much to say. Psycho liked his knives. Cut me up outside of a nightclub we were partying at—said I was flirting with the bartender and he was going to teach me a lesson.”

Shock was like losing all my colors at once. “What happened?”

Miko’s eyes glittered. “I survived and made sure he’d never get close enough to anyone to ever do that again. A little fairy glamour makes him look like he’s covered in scars and boils to any girl he shows an interest in.” She hesitated and then passed a hand over her face. The jagged scar sweeping from the corner of her mouth to her ear was angry red against the pale gold of her skin. “He gave me the idea.”

I swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry.”

Another pass of her hand and the scar was hidden under glamour. “Don’t be. He paid for what he did. I call it poetic justice.”

After a few minutes of silence, we settled the bill and went into the mall. As we wandered in and out of the stores, our good moods began to return. We shopped and laughed as if we weren’t a wingless fairy and a dangerous anomaly.

For one precious day, we pretended moms didn’t lie and boys didn’t hurt.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I didn’t follow Miko to the mansion when she dropped me off at my car, even though I’d said I would. A day at the mall had made me feel normal again and I wasn’t sure I wanted to re-enter Taliesin’s world. The thought of what Miko did to the guy who scarred her was proof that it was strange and dangerous.

A week went by and each morning it took more pills to make the pain in my head go away. I missed Peter. I stayed away from the empty guesthouses even though Old Tom had locked them up again. He’d shaken his head at the sight of the rotting seaweed in the bathtub, but hadn’t commented. I wasn’t even sure he’d told the Larsens. As far as he was concerned, his horses weren’t bothered so there was no problem. Peter texted that he’d reminded Taliesin about it too, but the bard hadn’t come up with any answers.

But it was the dream that kept me from returning to Taliesin. Maybe it was just superstition, but the holly above my door seemed to have made a difference and each night the details became clearer. I was convinced at least some of it was an actual memory. Not Tynan, of course, but the other elements seemed so real. In the dream I was about three years old—the same age as when we came to live at Windfield. Maybe my childish brain had somehow interpreted the day I was given to Viviane into a vivid dream.

Which means the woman in my dream might be my birth mother.

I was almost grateful to have school to distract me. Cailleach turned out to be an excellent teacher and didn’t seek me out again. The rest of my teachers continued to call on me to answer questions and give my opinion. They weren’t the only ones to embrace the new and more visible me; kids who’d never spoken to me before were suddenly acting like my friends. I even turned down a couple of guys who wanted to “hang out” on the weekend. I didn’t feel ready for that much attention.

Miko, Daley, and Tynan no longer bothered showing up at Eastdale—they’d all been homeschooled by Rowan and had graduated ages ago. Miko kept me up to date via text. Taliesin was disappointed I hadn’t returned. The harp was silent on any new recruits. Peter was training with Daley and the other Protectors. He’d told his parents he had football practice before and after school and was crashing with one of his buddies who lived closer. Reading between the lines, Peter and Miko were spending a lot of time together.

By lunch on Friday, the strain of all the attention was wearing me out and I longed to be invisible again.

Not all the time, but I could use a break.

I paused with my hand on the cafeteria doors. Lunch was in full swing; it sounded like a pack of wild animals consuming their prey. I’d somehow disappeared for most of my life so I could probably manage it again for one lunch hour. I closed my eyes and tried to find Mom’s voice, but fluorescent yellow panic filled me when I couldn’t remember what she sounded like. Grasping for a memory, I saw her pale, frightened eyes as she hid us from the silver-haired man.

Rhiannon, listen to me. We cannot be seen. We must be small, so very small together. Hide, Rhiannon, hide. Hide in the shadows and be still and silent.

The words were the spell and a veil of blue mist closed around me. Opening my eyes, I pushed on the doors.

Not a single head turned. A guy who’d asked me out just that morning bumped into me as he walked out. Mumbling an apology, his eyes slid over me as if he’d already forgotten I was there.

Lacey entered the cafeteria from behind me. “Hey,” she said and then stopped and stared at me. “You’re doing it again. Fading or whatever.” She was still immune to it.

“I wanted to see if I could control it, but it's getting harder. It’s strange, but I think it was something my mom did to me and now it's beginning to disappear.”

“Makes sense. C’mon, there’s an empty table over there.”

“I haven’t got a lunch yet.”

“You can have mine; I’m not hungry. My mom makes great manicotti.”

Homemade manicotti sounded good. I followed her to the table and wondered where the rest of the Bumblebees were.

Lacey seemed to read my mind. “The girls are working on a routine. I didn’t feel up to it.” She passed me a Hello Kitty lunch bag and I suppressed a smirk because I really wanted that manicotti. Stuffed in a thermos, the pasta was squashed but tasty. I polished it off and refused to be embarrassed that Lacey was watching me while I ate.

I leaned back with satisfaction. “Thanks. I can’t believe how hungry I was.”

“Doing magic makes you hungry, remember?”

I glanced around at the students who were now oblivious to my presence and shrugged. I was pretty sure I was hungry because I was still relying on fast food places for dinner and skipping most of the other meals. “It doesn’t feel like magic. I would have thought magic would feel more, I don’t know, sparkly or something.”

Lacey smiled. “You felt something when you fought the Cŵn Annwn, didn’t you?”

“I felt powerful.”

She stopped smiling. Something was different about her. In just one week, she was thinner, but it didn’t suit her after all. I noticed a black tattoo peeking out from under the cuff of her denim shirt.

“You got a tattoo? Isn’t that against the cheerleader code or something?”

Lacey tugged the cuff back over the swirly mark on her wrist. “I can cover it with makeup when I’m in uniform.”

I looked closer. Lacey’s hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and her face was pale. Her eyes had dark shadows under them.

And to be honest, she smells a little.

“Did you get the fith-fath thing from Rowan?” I felt funny saying it; it rhymed with hee-haw. Miko had explained the rules of Gaelic and Welsh to me, but I just didn’t understand how something spelled sidhe could be pronounced shee, or how sith could be pronounced the exact same way. Baobhan sith became baavan shee, Cailleach was kaliex, and my favorite name— which was pronounced shevon—was actually Siobhan. It was maddening.

Lacey shrugged. “I don’t need it.”

“But Taliesin said you could be in danger.”

She shrugged again.

“What’s going on, Lacey?” I was pretty sure I knew the answer. Lacey McInnis would never accept not being the best at something. Maybe she’d started investigating magic on her own. Taliesin had let it slip there was a lot of information about it on the internet.

Lacey rested her forehead against a clenched fist. “Nothing,” she sighed.

Before I could press it, she sat up straight and stared at the door. I turned around and saw Cailleach walking towards us. Her white hair was straight the way only a flat iron can make it and she had a slim figure anyone would envy. I closed my eyes for a moment and could just barely sense the cold silver surrounding her.

The woman stopped at our table and crossed her arms. The sleeve of her blouse pushed away from her wrist and up her arm and I saw that black tattoos in curving and knotted designs covered every inch of her exposed skin. Ice crept down my spine.

Who needs the internet when you have the Crone slumming at your school?

“Miss McInnis, you were supposed to meet me in the library to discuss your independent study unit. I don’t appreciate being kept waiting.”

Lacey shuffled to her feet. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t. Follow me. There is still time in the lunch period to make some progress.” Without waiting for a response, Cailleach turned and walked away, high heels clicking on the linoleum floor.

Gathering the lunch bag and stuffing it in her purse, Lacey gave me a listless wave as she left. I wanted to say something to stop her, but then I remembered how much Mom had kept from me. What right did I have to keep Lacey away from something she clearly wanted to do?

Cailleach stood waiting for her at the cafeteria doors. Lacey paused and looked back with a strange expression on her face—almost as if she expected me to do something—and then they were both gone.

I stayed invisible for the rest of the day so I could think in peace. Lacey could see through glamour based magic, so she must have known the truth of what Cailleach was right away. Taliesin knew the Crone was teaching at the school, but Miko said he wasn’t concerned—even magical beings sometimes need jobs. I decided that Lacey had a right to make her own decisions and it was none of my business.

It haunted me later that maybe she wanted me to stop her.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

When I drove home, Peter’s mom was sitting on the porch of the main house and motioned for me to park. Rising to greet me as I climbed the wide stairs, she gave me a warm hug. Even though I’d known her just about all my life, I still called her Mrs. Larsen. The Larsens were formal people and older than most other parents of kids our age. Peter sometimes called them Sir and Ma’am.

“C’mon in, Rhi. There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

I nodded and followed her into the house. I was surprised when she went into the formal living room and sat down on the sofa. It was going to be one of those kind of talks. She must have found out Peter was lying to her. I sat down beside her and braced myself to cover for him.

“I got a call from the school. They said you missed classes on Monday.”

It took me a moment to remember the Larsens were listed as my guardians and of course the school would call them.  I came up with the first excuse I could think of. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think to tell you. I didn’t feel well and I went home. I should have let you know.”

Mrs. Larsen shook her head. “I’m not worried about that. But you see, it reminded me that I’ve been putting off something I need to do.” She stood and walked over to the fireplace to pick up an envelope sitting on the mantle. “It’s no secret I never agreed much with your mother’s style of parenting—you were so little when you came to us and so starved for affection.” She turned suddenly. “I don’t mean to say she didn’t love you. I’m sure she did.” Her voice hardened. “She just never seemed to show it. I never once saw that woman hold your hand or kiss your cheek.”

There was nothing I could say to that. I had no memory of Viviane—Mom—doing those things either.

Mrs. Larsen tapped the envelope against her palm and then crossed the room and sat back down beside me. “I’m sorry, honey, I shouldn’t have said that. It just used to make me so mad. When you and Peter became close, I thought maybe I could give you some of the affection you were missing.”

Tears sprang to my eyes. “And you did. I love you and Mr. Larsen.”

“We love you too, sweetheart. You know that, right?” I nodded and she handed me the envelope. Typed across the top left corner was R. Goodfellow and Associates. “Your mother and I had an argument a few days before she collapsed.” Mrs. Larsen grimaced. “Well, I had an argument anyway.”

“What about?”

“You. Your mother told me she knew she was dying. Informed me just like that as if there were nothing else that needed discussing except for who would take over caring for the gardens—as if that was the only thing I would be concerned about. She actually seemed surprised when I asked if we could become your guardians. She said no. I wouldn’t have argued if she had someone else in mind, but she seemed to think her death wouldn’t make much difference to you at all.”

“But she did make you my guardians.”

“After I threatened to contact Children’s Aid! The next day she presented me with this.” She motioned to the envelope.

I pulled a sheet of paper out; it was another birth certificate. According to this one, I’d turned eighteen on my last birthday.

Mrs. Larsen shook her head. “I don’t know why she lied about your age. Maybe it was a mistake she never bothered to correct. She gave me permission to take care of you for a little while, but you’re legally in charge of your own life. I’m sorry it took me so long to give this to you, but I guess I wasn’t ready to let go.” She grasped my hands and gave them a little shake. “It doesn’t change anything. We’re family and no piece of paper can take that away.”

After twenty minutes of reassurance accompanied by chocolate chip cookies, I went home. Sitting on the couch with the two nearly identical documents on the table in front of me, I searched my memory of the years and could only come up with seventeen of them. Goodfellow did say Mom had a few copies made up. This one had been created to free me from the Larsens’ watchful eyes, but why? They’d never tried to enforce any authority over me after she died, but maybe only because they believed I was already legally an adult.

Viviane Lynne was listed as my mother, but no father. I looked at my name printed out in duplicate and a wave of pain passed between my temples. The words on the papers in front of me seemed to writhe and crawl. The longer I looked at my name—Rhiannon Lynne—the less it seemed to have any meaning and the more exposed I felt. Acting on impulse, I picked up the certificate Goodfellow gave me and ripped it right through my name. The pressure immediately eased.

I was just about to do the same to the other one when a thought occurred to me: even if it was a lie, the new certificate would come in handy. I didn’t have to answer to anyone if they thought I was eighteen. I was free.

How can I be free when I don’t even know who I really am?

After I put the remaining certificate safely between the pages of a gardening book in the book case, I felt better. Making a decision, I pulled out my phone to text Peter that I was coming and was ready to get some answers.

As if in response, three howls echoed through the fields behind the house.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Hunting for anything that howls is a bad idea, but I ran out of the house and circled it. Nothing. I even walked over to the guesthouses, but they were locked and quiet. Convincing myself it must have been Old Tom’s collie, I put it out of my mind and went home to get ready.

Changing into jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, I tucked the charm bracelet under my cuff. I’d been wearing it almost every day even though red irritation ringed my wrist like a burn. I also decided not to show Excalibur to Taliesin. I didn’t know why, but I wanted to keep both the charm and the sword a secret.

Just between me and Mom.

When I arrived at the mansion, Rowan was working in the garden and waved me over. “Did you do all this?” I asked as I admired the neat beds of shrubs and flowers.

Rowan brushed the dirt from his hands. “I thought I would make myself useful and leave things better than we found them. It’s too late in the season to do much, but it’s still an improvement.”

I knelt down beside him and pointed to the clump of pink, ruffled flowers he’d been clearing the weeds away from. “They’re pretty. What are they?”

“Anemone. I’ve been helping them along.” Rowan ran his hands over them, murmuring words I didn’t recognize in a humming drone. The plants swelled and stretched to meet his palms the way a cat arches its back to be stroked.

I gasped. “How’d you do that?”

The tanned skin around his eyes crinkled into deep lines when he smiled. “In another life I was a druid, a priest in the religion of the Celts.” He touched a small Celtic cross on a chain around his neck. “In many ways, I still am. The earth blessed me with the power to nurture life. I may have wandered from the religion of my youth, but the abilities I developed have never left me.” Following my gaze, he lifted the cross to show me. “You’re wondering why I wear this symbol of faith.”

“I guess I thought magic made religion irrelevant.”

Rowan chuckled. “There are no more definitive answers to be found in magic than there are in anything else. Magic is just an ability; one as valid as a talent for singing, or painting, or fixing cars. There are Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, and Jewish magic users. There are some who cling still to the gods of the old world. There’s even a small contingent of Rastafarians among the Greylanders beyond the Wall.”

I stared at him for a second. “You’re joking.”

He laughed. “Yes, but I wouldn’t be surprised. All beliefs are found among us, and for all our powers, not one of us knows for sure what lies beyond the veil of death, especially those of us who have cheated it for so long. We have merely been given more time to ponder the question. Despite what some might believe, we are not gods. I have faith there is something out there greater than myself, otherwise, why endure at all if everything we know and love will disappear into nothingness?” A shadow passed over his face, but then he smiled and it was gone. “I hear you met my wife.”

I was thrown by the sudden change of topic. “Your wife?”

Rowan stood and offered a hand to pull me up. “Boudica. Or Bo as we call her. Tall, red hair, plenty of attitude. I think you ran into her at some bakery around town. Sound familiar?”

I brushed the grass off my knees. “You’re married to her?”

He laughed again. “I see she made quite an impression. She usually does. I love my wife, but diplomacy is not one of her strengths. She caught it from Tal when one of the other Protectors tattled on her about your little encounter. Tal figured that’s why you hadn’t been by.”

I nodded. My encounter with Rowan’s wife had nothing to do with me not coming, but it seemed smarter to let them think that.

Rowan put a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Before we met, my wife suffered a great tragedy. She has a suspicious nature, but she’ll come around. Try to give her a second chance, if you can.”

I nodded and it seemed to satisfy him. As the druid escorted me inside, he called out—“Tynan, she’s here!”—before winking and leaving me standing alone in the foyer.

Tynan bounded down the stairs “You’re here!”

“I’m here,” I repeated.

“Hello, Rhi.” Dressed in a black leather jacket and jeans, Daley emerged from the dining room and my heart jumped in my chest as if I’d been shocked. Considering him with fresh eyes, I wondered how any of us had ever believed he was a high school student. Miko must have helped that along with a little fairy glamour. “You shouldn’t have let Boudica put you off from coming.”

“Yeah, well, it didn’t exactly inspire me with confidence.”

“If you’d heard Taliesin rake her over the coals about it, you might have been reassured—but then, you weren’t here, were you.” It was an accusation, not a question.

Tynan had edged closer to me and the way he hunched to hide his height made me feel like he was bending over me, cornering me. “It was bad. Dad stripped her of her command. Rowan thinks she’ll get it back, but I don’t know. Once Dad makes a decision, he usually sticks with it.”

Daley’s voice was cold. “She shouldn’t. Boudica was under strict instructions to leave Rhi alone. She’s never been good at taking orders and that makes her a liability.”

Tynan looked away. “You don’t understand her pain.”

“It doesn’t make it OK.”

Great. Five minutes and I’m already in the middle of a sibling spat.

I cleared my throat to get their attention. “So Daley, how old are you anyway? Cuz you sound positively ancient. You’re not Ty’s Dad, you know.”

“I’m old enough to know better.”

“Better than who? Me? Or someone who buys her outfits at Bondage R Us and got her butt kicked by a girl carrying a box of pastries.”

“From what I heard, nobody got their butt kicked, as you so politely put it. Boudica recognized she was facing someone reckless and untrained and made the smart decision to back down. The only smart thing she did, I agree, but still a lot better than throwing magic around in front of a bunch of civilians. She chose to walk away from a confrontation that might have hurt someone.”

“She didn’t walk. She ran.”

That might be a little bit of an exaggeration.

Daley looked disgusted. “Is that something to be proud of? If you knew anything at all about what you’re doing then you’d know how wrong that is. It isn’t fear to stay clear of a rabid dog.”

“Am I the dog in this scenario?”

“Don’t be stupid. You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t think I do. And Boudica didn’t back off because she was smart. She was scared. I think she knew she couldn’t take me. But if you don’t believe me, maybe you’d like to give it a try and see how far you get.”

“Are you challenging me?”

Strange emotions colored hot pink and candy apple red seemed to fill the air. “Not a challenge—a promise.”

And could I be any more clichéd?

“Stop it!” Tynan stepped between us. With shame, I realized I’d forgotten he was even there. Glancing back at Daley, I saw sparks glistening in his hair and a hot light glowing in his eyes. Looking like that, I could believe he was the god of thunder.

“Ah, I thought I heard voices.” Taliesin appeared in the foyer and I wondered how much he’d heard. “Tynan, please tell Miko to bring the harp to the study.” Tynan nodded and went up the stairs.

“You two, come with me.” The bard’s tone was icy.

I guess he heard enough.

“I’m sorry. And it’s twenty-one,” Daley murmured as we followed Taliesin.

“What?”

“I turned twenty-one last April, so not so old after all.”

My heart jumped again. I had no name for the colors I was seeing/feeling.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Taliesin led us to the study. I pretended to examine the books in the bookcase and endured the awkward silence until Miko burst in carrying her leather bag over one shoulder.

“Finally! Now we can get some answers.” She stopped and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Tynan pushed past her. “Rhi and Daley were fighting.”

Peter’s arrival spared me from responding. “Hey, Rhi. Did you see Mom and Dad?”

I punched him in the arm hard enough to make him wince. “I saw your mom. Don’t ever make me hide anything from her again. They bought your story. That’s not what we talked about though. I’ll tell you about it later.”

Peter looked curious but didn’t press it. We turned together to face Taliesin who was sitting at the desk with his fingers steepled—his favorite pose. I held his gaze to make sure he read the message of our solidarity. Peter might be drinking the Kool-Aid here, but he was still my best friend.

Taliesin’s lips twitched. Satisfied, I sat on the couch and Peter plopped down beside me.

“I am pleased Rhiannon has returned. I have used the time during her,”—the bard paused, eyes glittering—“delay to consult with an earth magician who has devoted his life to the cataloguing of the various types of magic currently present in this world. He agreed that Rhiannon’s connection between magic and color—both in her own perception, and in its manifestation to others—may be unique. I have also spoken with Morgana to try to determine Rhiannon’s true parentage. She confirmed that Viviane had never had a child of her own. She had thought her sister had simply taken in a foundling for her own inscrutable purposes.”

I was surprised. I’d thought Morgan Le Fay—or Morgana as he called her—was Taliesin’s enemy, and yet apparently he could pick up the phone and give her a ring any time he wanted to chat.

“What does it even matter? Whoever my real parents were, they obviously didn’t want me.”

Taliesin shook his head. “It matters a great deal. No Greylander or earth magician would give up their child willingly. Children of magic are precious.”

“So what happened then?”

“I do not know, but it is a great and worrisome mystery that you should end up being cared for by Viviane. She was known to have long ago put aside any real interest in the human world.  You are the second child I have encountered with unknown magic parentage.” He gestured at Tynan who looked down so the sweep of his hair hid his face. “I do not believe in coincidences.”

The mauve swirling through me was speckled with other, darker colors, but I shrugged. “I don’t understand why any of this is important.”

It was Daley who answered and his voice was angry again. “You don’t understand because there are things no one here has told you yet.” Surprisingly, it wasn’t me he was mad at; he was glaring at his father. Taliesin nodded for him to continue. “About time,” Daley muttered before turning back to me. “You might have destroyed that Cŵn Annwn. At the very least, you changed it. I could feel the power leave it like an electric charge in the atmosphere before it dissipated. You shouldn’t have been able to do that to a hound of Avalon.” Sparks of static electricity were flying from Daley’s hair. Since no one else seemed worried he might set the house on fire, I wondered if they could see the manifestation of his power the way I did. “The Cŵn Annwn were created from mortal dogs to serve Cernunnos. If one falls, his power revives it; their power is his power.” He paused for a moment to let that sink in. “There’s no precedent for what you did except in the tales of the very darkest of creatures.”

I swallowed hard. “What creatures?”

It was Taliesin who answered. “I have never encountered one outside of myth, but the Leanan Sidhe were said to have the ability to steal the life force out of a man, leaving only an empty shell behind. What you did could be described in a similar way. I think you can understand why this might give us cause for concern.”

My head began to pound. “What do you want me to do?”

“Can you show me how your ability manifests itself?”

“I don’t know. I’ve always seen my colors when my emotions were strong. I thought that’s all it was—some kind of weird synesthesia. Maybe since my colors tell me something about myself, they can also tell me things about other people, like their abilities. I don’t know how I made a color actually appear.”

“Perhaps your power is strong enough to create a reality out of your perception. Or perhaps your special ability is the power to make corporeal some essential nature of magic we have not understood till now. You will never know unless you try, Rhiannon.”

“OK.” I stood and closed my eyes. Faint traces of the indigo binding still lingering in the house distracted me—it was like looking through glasses smeared with oil. I opened my eyes in frustration. “I can’t.”

Daley had crossed the room to stand beside me. “Boudica said you grabbed her and I saw you touch the Cŵn Annwn.” I nodded and he took my hand. “Try again, Rhiannon.”

His use of my full name did strange things to my insides and when I closed my eyes again, I saw streaks of hot pink shooting through the indigo. The outline of his form appeared in my mind, lined in blades of cyan and orange lightning. I jumped as electricity passed between our entwined fingers.

“What do you see?” he asked.

“I see you.”

A pause. “What do I look like?”

I answered without hesitation. “Lightning. Cyan light and orange flame so bright it’s almost colorless. And a stormy sky—charcoal and blue lined with silver.”

After a moment of silence, Taliesin spoke. “Can you touch what you see?”

I heard the hiss of Daley’s indrawn breath and white fear shivered across my vision of him. “What if I hurt Daley?”

The bard’s voice was cold. “You did not hurt Boudica.” Either Boudica didn’t know what I’d done to her, or hadn’t admitted to it.

“You can do it.” Peter’s voice was closer; he stood beside me now and I could see the bright green thread connecting us. Trust and confidence seemed to flow through it.

“I’ll try.” I tightened my grip on Daley’s hand and lifted it in front of my closed eyes. In my mind, lightning danced over our fingers and around a small ring of light on my wrist.

The wheel charm.

The light flared and my interior vision was blinded as my wrist seemed to catch fire. I tore my hand out of Daley’s, but I could feel some of his power come with it. There was a moment of resistance and a strange aqua iridescence swirled around me, but then Daley’s power was mine. Opening my eyes, I gasped for breath and then froze.

A ball of lightning lay in my palm.

The wheel charm no longer burned where it was hidden beneath my sleeve, but the lightning I held was almost too hot to endure.

Taliesin frowned. “An illusion?”

Daley leaned down to touch the power in my hand with a cautious finger and then straightened and backed away. “It’s real,” he gasped. “She took a part of me.”

I stepped towards him and held out my hand. “Take it! Take it back!”

He recoiled from me. “What did you do?”

Taliesin stood and put a hand on Daley’s shoulder. “What did it feel like, my son?”

“Like she was clutching at my soul!”

“Be calm. How much did she take? Will you be all right?”

Daley took a shuddering breath and then seemed to get himself under control. “Not much. I’ll be fine.” There was no expression in his voice.

I had to say something. “Daley, I’m so sorry.”

Taliesin interrupted, “No need to apologize, Miss Lynne.” He returned his attention to Daley. “Could you have stopped Rhiannon if she had tried to take more?”

Daley’s face was now a calm mask. “Maybe. I’m not sure.”

“Take it back,” I begged again.

“I don’t know how.” Daley turned away.

Crimson rage smeared across my vision. Putting all the force I could find behind it, I threw the ball of lightning at the ground. There was a crack of thunder, and then the acrid smell of wool burning. We all stared silently at the black hole in the Persian carpet. Peter stepped on a small tongue of flame to extinguish it.

Miko cleared her throat. “Well, not to say that wasn’t interesting, but I think we should try the harp before jumping to any conclusions. The leanan sidhe left gifts of creativity for what they took, but I don’t see Daley rushing off to write a poem.” The fairy pulled the harp out of the bag. “Binnorie’s been difficult lately, but she agreed to let all of you see and hear her. Just let me talk to her for a second.” I didn’t like how she called the harp by the drowned girl’s name.

The minutes stretched on as Miko whispered to the harp. I was getting restless by the time she stopped in frustration.

“She’s not listening to me . . .”

CHILD OF BLOOD!

An awful screeching filled the room and Rowan and Boudica rushed in through the door to see what was going on. Pain shot through me as if something had been pulled tight until it broke. The harp continued to wail.

Have mercy on us Child of Blood, Eater of Bones and Life!

Have pity on us Destroyer of Worlds and Scouring Wind!

He has waited long and you cannot evade.

You will rise to meet him or choose to fall.

On this hangs death on the right or the left.

The voice quieted and took on a singsong quality.

One will go forward alone.

One will return to the beginning.

Choose rightly and blood will run like a river.

Choose wrongly and it will pour out like the sea.

But do not say you were not warned by me.

The harp fell silent.

Boudica crossed her arms over her chest and looked at me with raised eyebrows. “Well that was reassuring.”

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

The harp was silent, but everyone else had a lot to say.

Boudica was yelling. “It’s a prophesy! Are you telling me you know every prophesy ever made?” That was directed at Taliesin on a rising pitch that sent pain shooting through my head.

Rowan motioned at his wife to stop but his face was worried. “You have to admit it sounds like it could be a prophesy.”

Taliesin ignored them both. “Miko, Binnorie is your charge. Was it a prophesy or has she finally gone mad after all these years?”

Miko hugged the harp to her chest. “She’s not mad. Not yet. It has to be a true prophesy.”

Daley snorted. “Since when has any prophesy ever been ‘true’? You know as well as I do that prophesies are as slippery as nixies.”

Boudica shrugged off her husband’s arm and strode over to me, but I had trouble seeing her past the streaks of acid orange flashing in front of my eyes. “It’s a prophesy and we know who its target is.” Vicious crimson burst into my head. “I say we stop worrying about what the prophesy was about and just get rid of the who.”

“Bo . . .” Rowan admonished.

Pain was coming in waves now, crashing against me so fast I could barely catch my breath. Everything was color; everything inside me and around me. Emotion, power, thought—I could see it all now and it was blinding. A part of me yearned to take the essence of what I perceived into myself. A part of me knew it would burn me from the inside out until my mind was just like the smoldering, stinking hole in the carpet.

“The first Rhiannon rode a pale horse,” Tynan murmured. “Some say she was the goddess of death.”

Daley frowned. “That’s not helpful, Ty.”

“Has anyone noticed how many horses there are where she lives?” Boudica spat.

Peter jumped to his feet. “That’s my home you’re talking about and what have horses got to do with anything anyway?”

Rhiannon, listen to me, we cannot be seen. Hide in the shadows and be still and silent.

The angry voices faded away and I could hear only her. Not Mom—Viviane. My mother was dead. It was a goddess that had left the remnants of her voice in my mind. The tattered mist of her spell slipped away and rage filled me—rage at what she’d done to me, rage at all the things she’d kept from me. Crimson swept through the other colors and overwhelmed them. Drowning in it, I grasped at a thread of bright green winking through the maelstrom.

Peter!

He turned to look at me. Everyone else went silent.

Taliesin took my hand and felt for the pulse in my wrist. “Rowan, call 911.”

Miko stared at me with round eyes. “Where did all the blood come from?”

“What blood?” I asked. At least I tried to before I choked on the viscous mass in my mouth. I was covered in blood. With trembling hands I felt my ears, eyes, and nose; it was everywhere.

“It pours out like the sea.” Boudica murmured.

“Enough!” Taliesin roared and the agony in my head jumped in response. “Rhiannon, can you hear me?”

Of course I can. You could pop an eardrum with that thing.

I nodded.

“Are you in pain?”

I nodded yes again, but it wasn’t the point. I lifted my hands to show him. “It’s not blood,” I said as clearly as I could. “Something inside me broke.”

Taliesin stepped back in surprise. “Hang up the phone,” he barked. The druid muttered some excuse into the receiver and put it down.

Peter took my hand. “I heard you calling me in my mind. What can I do?”

I couldn’t speak. Color was coming faster; streaming out of my mouth and dribbling out of my nose, eyes and ears. Peter grabbed my shoulders as I thrashed backwards in a desperate struggle to breathe.

“RHIANNON!”

The power of the bard’s voice made the color rushing through me tremble and falter. I managed to take a deep breath.

“Can you regain control?”

I shook my head violently.

“Tal,” Rowan said, “if she can’t stop it, it’ll kill her as surely as losing that much blood would.”

Taliesin’s eyes widened, but his voice was calming. “I will have to try to stop it for you. Do you understand what that means?” I nodded again. He never moved, but a blanket of indigo dropped over me. Color dissipated like smoke and I coughed the rest out of my lungs. Miko handed me a tissue and I dabbed at my face—real blood had added itself to the flow.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

With a hiss, Boudica stomped out and Rowan followed her with a murmured apology. Peter let me go, but his hands were trembling.

When Taliesin stood and stumbled, both Tynan and Daley rushed to help, but he waved them away. He leaned against the desk and passed a hand over his face. “I am fine, but it is taking all my strength to bind whatever that was.”

“Should I get Rowan back?” Tynan asked.

The bard sighed wearily. “Later.” He glanced at the bloody tissue in my hand. “Do you know what happened?”

I struggled to find the worlds. “I’m not sure. When the harp screamed, it felt like something inside me broke. I could see everything as color—my thoughts, my feelings, all of you—it was overwhelming.”

“And what you perceive, you are somehow able to manifest in reality.”

“I guess. But there was so much of it. I’m not sure where it was all coming from.”

Taliesin sighed again. “With Rowan’s help, I can contain this for a day, maybe two. You must gain control within that time. You cannot risk another deluge; that was real blood mingled with it.” He shook his head. “I have never experienced magic as a physical entity. It is both fascinating and terrifying.”

The knuckles on Miko’s hands were white as she gripped the harp. “But if it was all just a manifestation of Rhiannon’s power, where did it go?”

Taliesin looked at me. “Did the binding contain it?”

I couldn’t sense anything. “It’s gone, I think.”

Daley’s voice was quiet. “I took care of it.”

Taliesin relaxed and smiled. “Well done, but you had better keep an eye on the sky tonight. Until all the energy disperses, the weather is bound to be unstable. Maybe I will come with you. It might be dangerous, but it is also likely to be spectacular. Rhiannon, I suggest you stay the night. I know who to call to help you and I promise I will release the binding once you are in control.” I hesitated and then nodded. “Good. Tynan can get you something to eat and then you should rest.”

A door slammed followed by the sound of voices. Daley was immediately alert. “That’s Boudica’s patrol returning. I sent them out while you were making your decision about her. What should I tell them?”

Taliesin’s face was grim. “Tell them she is out of the command structure indefinitely.”

“They won’t like it.”

“Then send them home. They may join your patrol or they may go their own way and see if Morgana will take them, but I will not tolerate insubordination—not from Boudica and not from them. Take Peter with you. He has made friends among her group and his presence might have a calming effect on the situation.”

Peter looked at me with concern. “Are you OK now?’

Define OK.

But I nodded and Peter ruffled my hair before following Daley out.

The bard gestured to Tynan. “Take Miss Lynne upstairs and keep her away from the others. I do not think any of us want to deal with more drama tonight.”

I gathered my purse and took the hand Tynan offered to help me up; my legs were still shaking.

Miko put the harp back in its bag. “What do you want me to do?”

Taliesin sat down in his chair and closed his eyes. “Stay with me while I make a call.” She perched on the desk and he swiveled to face the window—Tynan and I were dismissed.

We slipped out the door and down the hallway stretching away from the foyer and Boudica’s patrol. I couldn’t see anyone from my angle behind the central staircase, but I could hear angry voices and Daley’s cool response—they weren’t taking the news of Boudica’s demotion well.

“What will they do?” I whispered

“If they’re smart, they’ll fall in line and join Daley’s group back home. That’s Las Vegas, by the way. Dad wasn’t kidding; he’ll cut them loose.”

“Isn’t he afraid they’ll go join Morgan?” We climbed the second staircase at the back of the house.

“If Dad can’t trust his patrols to follow orders then they’re no use to him. Besides, they’ll do about as much good with Morgan as with us.”

“I thought she was the enemy.”

He glanced over his shoulder at me. “Only if she wakes Arthur. Until then, we basically do the same thing; we keep the monsters in line.”

I bet Daley thinks I’m one of those monsters.

The thought hurt.

We entered the second floor from the opposite end and Tynan took me to the same bedroom as before. As I brushed by him and went in, I was reminded of what happened the last time we were alone. “Have you ever met Morgan?” I asked to distract us both from the thought.

“No. Dad doesn’t like me around when she comes.”

“He meets with her?”

Tynan bent his head and his hair covered his eyes. “Sometimes.”

“Strange.” I sat on the bed and threw my purse on the nightstand.

He sat down at the other end. “Do you feel better now?”

“I think so.”

“That was weird.”

“Yeah.”

Tynan brushed his bangs out of his eyes. “Is there something going on between you and Daley?”

“What do you mean?”

“You two were pretty intense down there. Daley’s my brother. I don’t want to get in the way if you two are into each another.”

I just had a magic harp prophesy I’m gonna do a lot of really bad things and then nearly bled out with magic and he wants to talk about his feelings?

“Nothing’s going on,” I said instead.

“You frightened us,” he said softly.

“I’m sorry.”

Before I could react, Tynan reached out and pulled me against him. Without knowing exactly how it happened, his arms were around me and my head was tucked under his chin. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.” His heart beat thudded next to my ear and I heard the echo of Viviane’s.

Be still and silent.

Tynan’s lips brushed my hair, but I didn’t need my colors to know I didn’t feel the same way he did. When I didn’t respond, his grip loosened and I slipped away, ignoring the hurt on his face.

“I’m going to get cleaned up. And I’m starving. Could we get something to eat?”

Tynan smiled in relief. “I’ll get a bunch of stuff to bring back here and we can make a picnic on the bed and watch TV.”

I stifled a sigh as I realized he had no intention of leaving me alone. “That would be great.”

Tynan was already on his way out the door. “I’ll be right back. See if you can find anything good on.”

I’d stuffed a change of clothes in my purse in case I ended up staying the night. Taking my t-shirt and yoga pants into the bathroom, I started to pull off my shirt and then stopped as something caught my eye. The bracelet had slipped down my wrist and revealed a red burn the same shape as the wheel charm. It didn’t sting anymore when I probed the damaged skin, but it would probably scar. Undoing the clasp, I put the bracelet away in my makeup bag and dabbed some foundation on the red mark.

Twisting my hair into a loose bun, I was just coming out when Tynan returned carrying a tray heaped with food and two bottles of orange soda. For the next half hour, we watched a show about teenage werewolves that Tynan found completely hilarious. When I pretended to fall asleep before the show finished, Tynan turned off the lights and slipped out.

As soon as he was gone, I flipped onto my back in the darkness and stared up at the ceiling, rubbing at the mark the wheel charm had made on my wrist. Lightning illuminated the room, but no thunder followed. Curious, I got out of bed and went to the window.

As my eyes adjusted, I saw flashes of lightning outlining Daley as he stood with his arms raised on the edge of the forest bordering the yard—real lightning, not the kind I saw when I sensed his power. He was alone. As I watched, the bolts came faster and faster until the light was almost continuous. The lightning wasn’t flashing around him, it was striking him.

There was no thunder. Daley was thunder incarnate.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

I held Mom’s hand as we walked towards the iron gates of Windfield Farm. I knew from memory that we would walk through them and down the road to the Larsen’s home. Mom would knock on the door and a boy with messy blond hair would open it. That boy and I would look at one another and know we were going to be friends forever. That would be the beginning of my life as I remembered it; there was nothing else before.

But as we walked, I did something I couldn’t remember doing in real life. I gazed up at the tall, dark-haired woman who held my hand and wondered who this stranger was and where she was taking me.

I woke before dawn and it took a moment before I realized where I was. The dream had left a bad taste in my mouth, but at least my head didn’t hurt as much—the binding seemed to be holding back my headache along with everything else. I couldn’t get back to sleep so I decided to get up.

I crept out of the room and down the stairs. A huge, stone-floored kitchen running along the back third of the house was easy to find. Feeling through the cupboards in the darkness, I found a glass and then squinted at the sudden glow when I opened the fridge.

“Ah, it’s you, mo leanabh. I wondered who was scurrying through the house like a little mouse.”

I gasped and nearly dropped the pitcher of juice in my hand. Twin spots of amber ringed with red glittered in the gloom; Thomas Redcap was sitting at the table sipping something from a mug.

“What are you doing here?” I was glad to see him now that my heart was no longer in my throat. Despite disappearing and leaving me with more questions than answers—and probably only because he rescued me from L’Inconnue—his unexpected presence was strangely reassuring. I poured some juice and sat down beside him.

“I was invited. Or at least, I came with someone who was invited: your dear, sweet Auntie Morgan.”

“Why?”

“When your queen calls, you answer.”

“Your queen?”

He shrugged and took a drink. “The closest thing to one this side of the Wall. Due to my slightly more extensive experience dealing with you, mo leanabh, I was given the pleasure of accompanying your dear aunt. I thought you would be happy to see a friendly face, under the circumstances.”

“Taliesin called Morgan to help me bring my abilities under control?”

Redcap finished his drink with a satisfied sound. “There’s no one more powerful than Morgan Le Fay.”

“I keep getting told that Taliesin and Morgan are at war and yet they seem pretty cozy.”

Redcap chuckled as he pushed back his chair and stood. “Oh, you don’t know the half of it. I’ll be seeing you at a more hospitable hour. Until then . . .” He touched his cap and brushed past me.

“Redcap?” He paused and looked back. “What are you? I mean, what exactly is a ‘redcap’? And don’t tell me it’s someone who likes to wear red baseball caps.”

His face changed. It was strange how young he seemed one moment—as young as Daley—and then almost ancient the next. “What I am is the last of my kind. My ancestors killed for the joy of it and ate the flesh off the bones of their victims to absorb their memories. They dipped their caps in blood to strike fear in the hearts of their enemies. I have never dipped it in blood, but I wear this old cap to remind myself.”

“Remind you of what?”

Redcap stared at me for such a long time that I thought he wasn’t going to answer. “Of what happens when you don’t change with the times, mo leanabh. My people are dead, hunted by men of conviction like Taliesin. I survive because I have embraced the world as it is, not as I wish it to be. I learned that lesson the night my mother was killed. She refused to accept that the old world is no more. Both Taliesin and Morgan are in danger of learning that hard lesson the same way.”

He grimaced. “There’s something you should know. Viviane has gone from me, poured out as surely as her ashes were poured out on the water. In all the history of my kind, once gained, no one else has ever eluded us.” He disappeared down the dark hall.

As I returned to my room, I was glad for the heads up about Morgan. I wasn’t sure what I thought about the woman. She was estranged from Mom, but she came to mourn her. She was Taliesin’s enemy, and yet he turned to her for help. She was the villain in most of the stories written about Arthur, and yet according to Taliesin, she was Arthur’s great love.

And she makes some very unfortunate fashion choices.

After a quick shower, I redressed in my slightly rumpled clothes from the day before, but left the charm bracelet in my purse. The house was still quiet so I decided to explore the main floor. I was just about to open the double doors off the foyer when I heard the voices of a man and a woman from behind them.

“I am glad you chose to contact me.”

“You were the obvious choice and I welcomed the excuse. Truthfully though, I did not expect you to arrive so . . . expeditiously.”

“Should I have delayed?”

“No.” Silence and movement. “It has been a long time.”

The woman sighed. “Too long. If only you would relent, we would not need to be parted.”

“Dear one, you know that is not true. However this plays out, we are destined to be parted.”

“If only  . . .”

“If only.”

Silence again and I had enough of a teenager’s imagination to guess what the owners of the voices were doing.

So that’s what Redcap meant by his crack about Taliesin and Morgan.

I backed away from the door and retreated to the study. As I waited for everyone else to get up, I searched for something to pass the time. The bookcase was a bust. The owners of the house were self-help nuts, and while I definitely might need help, none of the books were interesting. One on the desk stood out from the others because of its age and worn condition and I guessed it was Taliesin’s. I couldn’t be any guiltier of invasion of privacy than I already was, so I picked it up and opened it.

It was an art journal filled with drawings, writings, and snippets of poetry. I knew I should probably put it back, but I’d read somewhere on the internet that scholars had been studying the remaining fragments of the works of Taliesin the Welsh warrior-poet for hundreds of years, so why not me? I sat down with the book on my knees.

The poetry was OK, but what held me in place violating my host’s privacy were the beautiful drawings in pencil, ink, and watercolor. Notes in the margin indicated the names of the subjects, but I didn’t need them to recognize Tynan by his hunched shoulders and lock of hair falling over one eye, and Miko by her ponytails and crooked smile. Daley was drawn in black ink with his arms raised to the sky. Beside him was a girl with a river of dark hair falling over her shoulders and a chain around her neck with a gem encased in filigree. The note in the margin said Daley and Melusine.

I forced myself to turn the page. A fragment of poetry was followed by the sketch of a wolf in fine pencil strokes, its fur ruffled by an unseen wind.

I have fled as a wolf cub.

I have fled as a wolf in the wilderness.

I flipped through the pages. Among the images of those I recognized—Rowan, Boudica, even Mom—one was repeated over and over: Morgan Le Fay.

I came to the last page. On one side was the full-length image of a smiling man dressed in armor. Tall and broad-shouldered, confident and powerful, I didn’t need the dedication at the bottom to tell me it was Arthur. On the other side, another man’s face looked back at me—a face of cruel angles, wintry eyes, and silver hair.

I knew that face.

Underneath the drawing was written:

Cernunnos, Lord of the Grey Lands of Avalon.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

I was still staring at the page when Taliesin and Morgan entered the room. “Rhiannon, you surprised me. How long have you been waiting here?”

I couldn’t answer. I had no idea how long I’d been staring at the portrait of my father.

Morgan frowned and took the book from my unresisting hands. She was dressed in a wiggle skirt, crisp shirt, and black pumps and her hair cascaded over her shoulder in controlled waves. I guessed the more conservative getup was for Taliesin’s benefit.

Examining the picture, she turned to the bard with a smile. “A good likeness. When did you do this?”

“Years ago, when first we met at Camelot.” He took the book from her and placed it on the desk.

I don’t blame him for not wanting her to see all his stalker pics.

Morgan glanced at me. “Cernunnos is my brother and Viviane’s too, so he is, in a way, your uncle.”

“No,” I said.

The porcelain skin between her eyebrows furrowed delicately. “‘No’ what?”

“He’s not my uncle.”

“True, he would not likely appreciate being called such.”

“No. That man is not my uncle.”

Morgan rolled her eyes. “Fine. Forgive my attempt at civility. You are right, he is not your uncle . . . ,”

“He’s my father.”

Stunned silence and then they both began to speak at once.

“You must be confused . . . ,”

“Nonsense, child, my brother has no . . . ,”

“You grieve for Viviane, so perhaps you . . . ,”

“To think that you, a foundling my sister took pity on, would dare claim kinship with the Lord of the Grey Lands!”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” I yelled. My head felt like spikes of metal were drilling through it.

Taliesin swayed. “Calm down, Miss Lynne. You are making it difficult for me to hold the binding. We will be quiet now, I assure you.”

Peter ran into the room, followed by Thomas Redcap at a slower pace.

“Are you all right?” From the look of Peter’s hair and wrinkled sweats, the intensity of my emotions had pulled him out of bed.

“What’s going on?” Redcap asked.

Morgan gestured in frustration. “It is not enough that somehow this child wormed her way into my sister’s life, but now she is claiming to be Cernunnos’ daughter.”

Redcap cocked his head at her and smiled. “Of course she is.”

The woman’s mouth gaped open like a fish. If it hadn’t felt like my brain was being bashed in with a rock, I would have laughed.

“Look at her.  The hair and eyes are different, but think of the fine cut of your brother’s face, the arch of his eyebrows, the set of his shoulders. Think of what Taliesin told you of her abilities. Putting aside the color manifestation—which is something new, I admit—who has ever taken the power of a Cŵn Annwn before? They are his creatures, you know this. Not even you could do such a thing.”

Morgan turned to the bard. “Could it be possible?”

Taliesin shook his head. “I do not know. We all thought that of you four, only you had ever brought a child into the world, and then only because of the earth magic.”

Redcap leaned against the wall and snorted. “You’re both missing the most interesting question. Viviane found her—or was given her—and has been hiding her from Cernunnos all this time. Why? Viviane broke faith with both Arthur and her brother. Why would she want her brother’s child?”

Taliesin frowned. “A weapon?”

“Or perhaps a gift.”

“I still don’t believe it,” Morgan said, folding her arms across her chest.

Redcap laughed. “Well, I think you’d better start.  Viviane instructed the child to scatter her ashes on a lake right after a blue moon. Oh, and did I mention that L’Inconnue de la Seine came all the way from Europe through watery Paths to wait for her? I’d already guessed what the girl was before we came here.”

Peter sat down on the couch. “What’s he talking about?”

Redcap seemed to be enjoying himself. “Let me illuminate. Viviane allowed what was left of her power to dwindle until death so she could hide herself and this girl from her brother. Why would she make such a sacrifice? Viviane and Cernunnos were alike, cold and unfeeling. Seduced by the power this world gave to her, Viviane turned her back on her brother and bound her power to the worship she received from humans. When that worship faded, so did she. Fated to finally die, she gave what was left of herself in the care of a child. A child she instructed to throw her ashes into a lake. A lake made special by Viviane’s love for it.”

“A sacred pool,” Morgan murmured.

“Yes, a sacred pool where she could be reborn in renewed power. Perhaps L’Inconnue felt the approach of Viviane’s remains and was angry a greater water goddess might encroach upon her territory.”

Peter shook his head. “How does that prove this Cernunnos guy is Rhi’s dad?”

Morgan was pacing now. “When Viviane and I made our allegiances here, my brother swore revenge upon us. We were three sisters born of magic. Of all the creatures I have met through the long ages of the world, only he has the power to unmake us—or perhaps make us. If even a particle of Viviane’s body remained and a portion of her spirit lingered, Cernunnos might be able to raise her up and restore her. Magic could birth Viviane again, but he would never do this for her.”

“His child might have the same power,” Taliesin said gently.

Everyone was watching me. I wanted to disappear but I forced myself to respond. “He’s the silver-haired man. I saw him once when I was little. We hid from him. Mom never told me, but I guessed he was my father.”

Taliesin sighed. “I had heard rumors that Cernunnos could cross the Wall in some manner. Viviane was known for her powers of concealment, just as a lake appears to be one thing on the surface, but its depths are hidden.”

Morgan was Amazonian and I had to crane my neck to look up at her as she accosted me with questions. “What did you do when you scattered the ashes? Did you say anything? Did Viviane give you any other instructions?”

“She asked me to scatter her ashes in the lake, that’s it. That’s what I did.”

Morgan glanced at Redcap and he nodded. “After L’Inconnue tried to drown her, Rhiannon threw the ashes into the lake and then passed out.”

“And you saw nothing after that?”

“No, but Viviane has gone from me. It’s not impossible that it was part of her plan.”

The woman looked worried and it made me angry. “I’m not saying I believe it’s possible, but don’t you want your own sister back?”

Morgan turned away and Redcap answered. “Viviane was the Lady of the Lake and Arthur worshipped her before he came to understand who and what she really was. Still, because of that, she has power over him. If she were restored in her full strength, who knows what she would do; her allegiance was always as uncertain and as changeable as the waves.”

Morgan made an impatient gesture. “It doesn’t matter now. Either Viviane didn’t know the nature of the spell she needed, or she died before she could show the girl what to do.”

“So you admit that Rhiannon could be Cernunnos’ child?”

“It is possible and impossible all at the same time. It would explain a great deal about my sister’s behavior, though not my brother’s. Which then begs another question—who is this child’s real mother?”

My dream told the truth; my birth mother had abandoned me to Viviane.

A strangled yelp interrupted my thoughts. Peter had picked up the journal from the desk and was now staring at the portrait of Cernunnos with his finger on the page. He lifted it to show me what was written at the bottom. One word was scrawled in the corner in pencil. I’d missed it before. I’d been too busy staring at my father’s face.

“C’mon! Merlin? Really?” Peter asked plaintively.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

“Yes, he was known in my time as Merlin.” Taliesin took the book from Peter’s hands and closed it before gesturing for him to take his seat. “I had forgotten how powerful that name has become in this modern age, but I assure you, he was no kindly mage with a pointed hat and long beard. I have shown you the story before in broad strokes, but these are the finer details. Perhaps it will help you to know that Cernunnos was also Anubis in Egypt, Hades in Greece, and Pluto in Rome. When he tired of this world, he alone was not diminished by leaving his worshippers. His power seemed endless.”

“Then a whisper of an unknown magic reached his ear. On a small and insignificant island in a cold sea, a young king named Arthur struggled to unite a nation. Despite what the storybooks say, there was no sword in any stone. It was Viviane who gave him Excalibur—a mysterious talisman of earth magic—and he became the Earth King. Cernunnos came to him and named himself Merlin—even I did not recognize him as one of the old gods of my people. He guided Arthur as his friend, but he sought to control and limit him as well.”

“Arthur’s power could not be contained and when he no longer heeded his mentor, the Lord of the Grey Lands sent Morgana to ensnare him with her beauty. You know the rest.” He took Morgan’s hand. “Instead, she told Arthur the truth. She changed her name to Morgan le Fay as a warning to her brother that she had come into her own power, but I remember her by the name she bore when first we met.” Morgan pulled away, visibly moved. “She and Arthur had a child—a boy—and named him Mordred. They made plans to invade Avalon even though the Lady of the Lake turned against them for it and reclaimed Excalibur.”

“Cernunnos was forced to resort to deception. He appeared to Mordred as Merlin and convinced the boy his father meant to rule both worlds as a tyrant—a truth wrapped in a lie. Mordred demanded Excalibur from Viviane as his birthright.”

“In the midst of the last great battle on the borders of Avalon, Mordred stabbed his father through the heart with the sword and then fled and was never seen again. Excalibur was destroyed and the Lady of the Lake took what remained and hid it away. The Earth King could not be killed by his own magic, but instead fell into an enchanted sleep. Morgan le Fay honors the oaths she made to him on the day they met and guards him still until she can find the key to waking him.”

Morgan brushed a tear from her face. “Thank you, my dear bard, for seeing me with such charity despite all that has passed between us.”

“Always,” he whispered.

With a sigh, she walked over to me and placed her cool hands on my temples.

“What are you doing?”

“I am helping you. My gift is the ability to sense the power in others. I guide them in accessing it and am able to take some for myself to shape with incantations for my own purposes.”

That sounds like the politically correct way of saying she steals it.

Morgan laughed softly. “Do not look so worried. I can also draw my magic from places and objects of power, and for those I train, it is a gift given willingly in thanks. You, however, donated so much raw power to the heavens yesterday that even the efforts of Taliesin’s electrically charged protégé could not clean it all up. Now hush. When Taliesin releases the binding, I will help you regain control over yourself.”

“How?”

“By going into your mind.”

Hell to the no.

Without warning, indigo disappeared and sparkling color rushed in. I must have closed my eyes because everything else disappeared. Disoriented, I felt like I was drowning.

“Rhiannon! Calm yourself. Keep your eyes closed and concentrate on me and me alone.”

I forced myself to obey. To focus, I placed my hands over hers and her form appeared in my mind in colors even more chaotic than the ones flowing around me. Unlike Daley and the Cŵn Annwn, the outline of color around her seemed fractured and disjointed.

“I can see you.”

“And what do I look like in your mind?”

“Colors all around you and through you, hundreds of them.”

I felt her hands shift as she turned to speak to Taliesin. “She must be seeing what could be described as my aura. I had thought such an ability was only a foolish tale told by charlatans, but it would explain how emotion, power, and essence are visible to her.” Her voice addressed me again. “What else do you see?”

“Color everywhere.”

“And where does this color come from? Are you seeing the rest of us here in this room?”

I paused. “I don’t think so. I mean, I sort of have a sense of people sometimes, but it doesn’t come clear until I touch them. At least, that’s what happened before.”

Redcap’s voice was close. “Here, let me try.” His hand brushed my shoulder and I gasped as a fleeting vision of him lined in warm gold and blood red flickered across my mind.

“I saw you!”

Morgan gave an unladylike snort. “Yes, the redcap’s nature is very vibrant. I am not surprised you could see him so easily.”

There was silence. I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn’t feel my body anymore.

It is beautiful, how you see it. My vision of the woman solidified and her voice was now coming from inside my head.

You can see what I see?

I am inside your consciousness. For the moment, I perceive what you perceive. My mental impression of Morgan sighed. As I can also perceive that you are indeed his daughter. While your colors hold no meaning for me, I can sense the echo of my brother’s soul in them. Of your true mother . . . She paused . . . there is something almost familiar about it, but I cannot capture it.

Color swirled around me like a rushing stream. What is all this then?

I do not understand what it is, let alone what it means, but it does seem to have a source.

A source? We aren’t anywhere! We’re in my mind!

Yes, but this is your mental picture of a true reality. She pointed to an ebony strand spinning through the others, leaping and diving like a fish. I do not like the look of that. What does it feel like to you?

I only had to think of the color to have it in my hand. The headache I’d endured all summer spiked.

It’s pain. My pain.

Follow it.

Releasing the ebony, I imagined myself sinking deeper into myself. Morgan disappeared. Following the dark flow, I arrived at a wall of ice edged in silver. Color stained with ebony leaked from a broken area in the center.

Viviane created this spell, but it is failing. Morgan’s voice was faint and far away.

You can see it?

No, you are too far within yourself for me to reach, but I can sense her touch.

What is it?

Some sort of barrier, I believe. What do you perceive?

I approached it cautiously. It’s damaged. I remembered how I felt something break when the harp screamed the prophesy at me. Panic rushed through me once again. Where are we, Morgan? My brain? My soul?

Who can say? It is a question more for science than magic. What I can tell you is that my sister created this to protect you from something. She was silent for a moment. We do know that at least some of what you perceive is power.

I noticed colors similar to Daley’s and the Cŵn Annwn. Was this only a mental representation of what I’d done to them? What about all the other colors?

Morgan continued. But if that is true, why would Viviane try to protect you from it? Why would she not want you to have power?

I thought of the ebony and how it tainted all the rest. Where it touched the icy barrier, the surface appeared rotten and putrid.

Maybe because of the pain.

There was urgency in Morgan’s voice now. If you are right, then whatever is seeking its way in—whatever you take in—also wounds you. It is beyond me to remake my sister’s construct, but I can strengthen it. She murmured words in a language I didn’t understand. Take this and bind the corruption.

A ball of light materialized in front of me. With a thought, I guided it to the weeping lesion.

What will happen? Am I healing something in my mind or in my body?

I do not know.

Anger sliced through me and a bright red separated itself from the other colors in response. Viviane had made this barrier to block my full abilities, I was sure of it. I had a sudden intuition that this particular shade of red—if I could grasp and shape it—could be used to ignite the flesh of an enemy. White horror filled me and the terrifying color paled and faded away.

As the spell spread across the barrier like an ointment, I surged up through myself back into consciousness. When Morgan slipped her hands out from under mine, I opened my eyes, blinking at the light.

“Were you successful?” Taliesin asked.

Morgan sat down on the edge of the desk and crossed her long, slim legs. “Perhaps. I believe Rhiannon draws power from those around her like a sponge; you were not far wrong when you suggested the leanan sidhe as having similar abilities. Viviane created a barrier to try to keep the girl from doing so, yet over the years she has unknowingly collected remnants from those she has encountered. She sees them as colors, though I have no idea of the reality of this or if she shapes them as she perceives them. Though this ability must be her heritage from my brother, I believe Rhiannon is part human and cannot safely contain the power she is heir to.”

She looked at me. “I think Viviane was trying to protect you from yourself and perhaps those of power around you too. Why she did not tell you—did not teach you how to control it—I cannot say.” Morgan’s eyes were round and pale as moons. “With Viviane’s death, the spell is failing. I have done what I can, but you will need to be vigilant or you will be a threat to both yourself and others. I will seek for answers concerning this strange ability and will help you where I can; we are blood and I am bound by that.”

Her eyes became fixed, unblinking. “Remember this always: blood magic is the greatest magic of all.”

A strange tingling went through me as if her words were the echo of something I was supposed to remember.

Morgan Le Fay stood and kissed Taliesin on the lips before turning and walking out the door.

Redcap winked at me as he followed her. “Until we meet again, mo leanabh.”

Tired and depressed, I said my goodbyes and went home. Later that night as I lay in my own bed staring up at the ceiling, I thought about what I’d seen before I returned to the conscious world.

Morgan’s spell seemed to heal the barrier, but a single ebony spot remained.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

The world fell into a pattern: days at school and nights and weekends at the mansion. And while I sometimes felt a prickle up my back as if someone was watching me, there were no more howls, paw prints, or bathtubs full of seaweed.

October arrived rainy and cold. Leaves flared briefly to early, vivid life and then were struck down into the gutters. Binnorie’s prophesy wasn’t mentioned and neither was my parentage. I assumed everyone who’d missed the big news had been told that Cernunnos was my father, but no one mentioned it. Perhaps they were all being polite.

And maybe they’re just afraid the wrong word might set off the ticking time bomb.

Taliesin had assigned my training to Boudica and after a week, I wondered if it was to punish her or me. She wasn’t openly hostile, but I could feel her dislike. Boudica was of the wax on wax off school of training and I repeated seemingly insignificant tasks until I wanted to go Karate Kid all over her ass. I practiced holding still for as long as I could. Once I achieved thirty minutes of complete stillness, we began again with me balancing on one foot. I was still struggling to achieve even one minute in that position. She had me solve complicated puzzles and then break them up and do it again until I wanted to scream. Apparently no one trusted me to try to access even the orphaned colors that remained behind Viviane’s barrier until I demonstrated some discipline.

I just got better at faking it.

One of the best things about the mansion was the indoor pool and as the weather got worse, we all spent a lot of time there. The sight of Taliesin in Hawaiian print swim trunks was disconcerting.

Rowan in his Speedo made me want to gouge my eyes out.

Miko was afraid of the water and the closest she would go was to sit in her bikini on the edge of the shallow end, showing off her pierced navel in the center of her toned tummy. Peter did back flips and belly flops to impress her. Tynan swam solitary laps while Daley would practice a dive or two and then dry off and leave.

Tynan.

Things had gone awkward between us. Tynan was gorgeous and clearly into me, but he wasn’t Daley.

Isn’t the handsome guy with a secret past and hidden sadness practically the foundation of modern pop culture?

Because Daley was sad—I’d seen proof of it. I often stayed overnight in the room that was now unofficially mine. About a week after Binnorie’s prophesy, I was almost asleep when a flash of lightning jolted me awake. When no thunder followed, I knew it was him. I tried not to look, but I couldn’t help myself and I slipped out of bed and went to the window. Daley stood at the edge of the property staring up at the sky and I was shocked to see moonlight reflecting off tears on his face.  The tingle of his electricity on my arms was almost like touching him and for a moment he was outlined in color. Ashamed of myself for spying, I was about to turn away when I noticed an iridescent aqua webbing across him. It was the same color I encountered when I took his power, but it clashed with the others; it didn’t seem to belong.

I returned to my bed, but I couldn’t sleep. The strange color made me uneasy and restless.

I wasn’t the only one struggling to figure things out. According to Miko, Tynan’s abilities had become even more unpredictable and unstable. He had lost the ability to call a Cŵn Annwn from the Wall. We found that out when Taliesin tried to arrange another test of my abilities. After a week of moping around the mansion, he created fire from air when he snapped his fingers. Rowan clapped him on the shoulder and declared the mystery solved—Tynan was a pyromancer. The next day, he couldn’t make a spark no matter how hard he tried. Again, Rowan clapped him on the shoulder and promised they would figure it out eventually. And so it went—Tynan would exhibit a powerful ability that would just as quickly disappear and Rowan would try to make him feel better about it. Taliesin would remain noticeably silent.

The one constant was that Tynan could sense the Paths. He confided in me one night that back in Las Vegas he’d even travelled a couple of feet down one before losing his nerve. He made me promise not tell anyone and I agreed, but I resented being forced into what felt like a lie.

A couple of weeks before Halloween, Boudica and I were sitting by the pool in bathing suits and t-shirts while Peter, Tynan, and Daley horsed around in the shallow end. Their object was to keep a beach ball from hitting the water, but it was really an excuse to dunk one another and elbow each other in the face as they launched themselves after it. Peter had started the game and it was good to see the other guys laughing and having fun; my best friend’s sunny nature was infectious. Taliesin and Rowan cheered them on while Miko sat on the steps leading into the pool gripping the metal handrail as if her life depended on it.

Boudica pulled off her t-shirt and threw it on the small table between us. “For all his long years, Rowan is still like a child. He takes such pleasure in simple things.” The words might have been affectionate, but her tone was strangely neutral.

I decided to risk asking something I’d been wondering about. “I thought all the earth magicians were human. Why are Rowan and Taliesin still alive after all these years?”

Boudica shrugged, muscles rippling under pale skin scattered with freckles. “No one knows in Taliesin’s case, but Rowan has bound himself to the bard by oaths sworn on both magic and his faith. He will remain on this earth as long as Taliesin does.”

“So when Taliesin dies, Rowan dies too?”

She shrugged again. “Perhaps when the bard is gone, Rowan will begin to age again—though likely some battle or other will do them both in at the same time.”

I shivered despite the moist, warm air. There was something cold in the woman’s voice.

As if she doesn’t even care. Or worse.

We sat in silence for a minute, but eventually I couldn’t help myself. I had to ask, “And what about you?”

She lifted a pale eyebrow. “You mean, what is my status among the immortals?”

I squirmed under her frosty gaze. “I guess so, yeah.”

“No one has told you then?” I shook my head. “I was the queen of the Iceni,” Boudica declared proudly. Rowan glanced over in concern, but I smiled back and he relaxed.

She was waiting for me to respond, but I didn’t what to say. Scowling, she jabbed her finger at me. “Don’t they teach you children anything? The Iceni were of the Celtic bloodline. My kingdom was roughly where Norfolk is today. In England.” I could feel myself flush at her obvious contempt.

The woman sighed. “When my husband died, I was the rightful heir, but Rome had already placed its yoke around the neck of Britain and didn’t recognize the right of women to rule. Rome took my kingdom, flogged me, and raped my daughters. So I waged war upon Rome. In the end, I was defeated. I took poison with my daughters, but to my horror, I awoke and they were dead. I fled and didn’t know what I was until Rowan found me. I learned from Taliesin that my abilities in war and my immunity to the poison were my heritage as a descendent of the sidhe warriors who once served Cernunnos.

“Sidhe?” I repeated. It sounded like shee.

“I suppose, in your modern lexicon, you would call them elves, but they were nothing like the languid actors prancing around in your movies. The sidhe were warriors so beautiful and bright that it hurt to look at them directly. And so in love with battle that no full blooded members of that race remain—a little like your friend the redcap, though nowhere near as messy. The sidhe could sever the head of an enemy with one stroke and almost no blood, so clean and hot were their blades, so strong their arms.”

Her lips twisted. “I didn’t know which of my parents to thank for my unwanted life. They both died when I was young. I suspect it was my mother for my clearest memory is being taught by her how to lift a sword. Sadly for my poor daughters, their blood was too diluted by their father’s to survive the poison as I had. I’m not immortal, though I’ve aged very little since that time. A dose of poison strong enough to account for what I am would have killed me, and I would have adjusted my portion if I’d known. By the time Rowan brought me to the bard, I’d relearned the desire to live—for vengeance, if nothing else.” Boudica’s voice became low and almost sensual. “I enjoyed watching the great Roman empire fall at last.”

I felt sick. I wished I’d never asked.

Boudica smirked as if she understood how her story had affected me and it only increased her contempt. As she stood and walked to the deep end to execute a perfect dive into the pool, I could see the white of old scars criss-crossing the skin on her back.

Miko wandered over and plopped down into the chair Boudica had vacated. “Was she telling you her story? I caught the end of it.”

I nodded. “It’s sad.”

The fairy pulled her knees up to her chin. “I don’t know why she joined Taliesin. I don’t think she likes any of us, not even Rowan. It’s terrible what happened to her, but she’s wrong inside. Did she tell you what she did after she lost her kingdom?”

“She said she waged war on Rome.”

Boudica had joined the boys in their game and Daley was now sitting on the edge of the pool watching. His necklace shimmered aqua against his bare chest.

Miko dropped her voice so no one else could hear her. “When she conquered a Roman city, she destroyed it. She slaughtered almost eighty thousand people, even the women and children, and what she did to the bodies . . . well, it was awful. At least, that’s what the history books say. Of course, when she was defeated, the Roman legions were just as bad, but it’s not a Roman I have to sit across the table from every night.”

I shivered again; I’d seen some of the darkness running through Boudica. “I feel sorry for her.”

“Sure, feel sorry for her if you want, but don’t ever trust her. I doubt she’s even remotely sane. But then, who am I to talk about trust.” The fairy was staring at her phone with a strange expression on her face.

“Who’s that?”

A dusky blush spread across her cheeks. “No one important. Just an old friend who wants to hook up.” She slipped the phone back into her bikini top and I laughed.

“That’s an interesting place to keep it.”

“Might as well fill it with something.” She nodded her chin at Boudica. “We can’t all be as well endowed as some people.” The woman’s attributes were definitely impressive, but my gaze strayed back to Daley.

“Oh Rhi, don’t even think of Daley that way.”

I forced myself to look away. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I mean. Daley will break your heart.”

“I’m just curious. Why does he always wear that necklace with the aquamarine stone?” From Taliesin’s book, I knew it once belonged to the girl named Melusine.

Miko frowned. “The stone is clear.”

I sat up straight as I realized that the color I saw the pendant as was the same as one of the colors I saw surrounding Daley. “Stay here for a minute.”

“What are you doing?” Miko hissed.

“Checking something out.”

I walked over to the shallow end. Rowan smiled and Taliesin nodded as they passed me on their way out. I almost lost my nerve at the shock that ran through me as Daley looked up. Electricity sparked across my skin. I’d asked Miko, but no one else was affected by Daley’s power the way I was. The charm bracelet was still in my purse, but the red scar on my wrist burned.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he replied.

That was the extent of the conversation. I stood there awkwardly. The beach ball hitting me in the face came to my rescue.

“Sorry, Rhi!” Peter yelled.

“It’s OK.” But instead of throwing the ball back in, I offered it to Daley. Frowning, he reached for it and I made sure our fingers connected. Hoping it would be enough, I closed my eyes.

For a moment, there was nothing, but then the stone burned aqua and I saw tendrils escaping it, entwining with Daley’s lightning. They connected him to a beautiful girl with a river of dark hair.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

“No. Friggin. Way.”

I’d dragged Miko away from the pool and we were sitting across from one another on her bed. She’d decorated her room with posters of Japanese rock bands and pink pillows. She was twisting one of them now in her small hands.

Tell me again what she looked like.”

We’d been through this twice already. “Pretty. Long, black hair.  White dress with swishy sleeves.”

Miko’s eyes were wide. “That’s what we buried her in.”

“What?”

“We buried her in a white dress with long sleeves.”

“Who?”

“Melusine. Daley’s girlfriend.”

I had to know. “How did she die?”

Miko grimaced. “When Melusine first joined us, everyone was so excited. She was an actual descendent of the first Melusine—an ancient water elemental who could turn into a kind of dragon. Our Melusine wasn’t a pureblood and hadn’t learned how to access her powers, but it would have been a real game changer for us if she could. Unfortunately, the original Melusine was also a man-eater—not just literally—and ours was the same. By the time she came to us, she’d left a pile of broken hearts behind. One of them eventually caught up with her.”

It took me a moment to understand what Miko was saying. “She was murdered?”

“Some kid walked up to her in the middle of the street and shot her. He put another bullet in his brain before Daley could even react.”

“That’s awful.”

“It gets worse. The kid left a suicide note in his pocket. Melusine had been texting him, promising they would get back together and getting him to send her money. When he ran out of cash, she told him she was done with him. Daley went out of his mind with grief. He took the necklace off her dead body and he’s worn it ever since. He’s forgotten what she was really like.”

“What was she like then?”

“Beautiful, vain, charming, manipulative—just like most sirens, loreleis, nixies, and mermaids.” Miko smiled her lopsided smile. “And fairies too. But Melusine was from that whole class of Greylander whose sole purpose seems to be to seduce and destroy men for the fun of it.”

I didn’t remind Miko that my closest magical counterpart might be a leanan sidhe.  “She seemed sad.”

“She might have cared for Daley,” the fairy conceded, “but there’s no way of knowing if he truly loved her back. That’s the only part of her magic she was ever in control of, but Daley refuses to believe it. He refuses to remember how they fought all the time or how jealous and unhappy she made him.”

I went to the window. The picture of Daley’s face raised to the moon was an image my mind kept turning to no matter how hard I tried to banish it.

A pillow hit the glass and I turned and raised an eyebrow at Miko.

“Sorry. I wasn’t aiming for you. I’m furious I didn’t see Melusine’s spirit had attached itself to that stupid necklace. Seeing the truth is supposed to be my specialty!”

I sat back down on the bed and leaned against the headboard. “So what are we going to do about it?”

“Hauntings aren’t good. Ghosts forget the details of who they were in life but not the big emotions. Since that’s all they’ve got, those emotions just get bigger and bigger until they spill over into the mortal plane. Add magic into the mix and it could get ugly.”

“So if ghosts exist, I guess it’s proof there’s life after death. I suppose it’s our duty to help her move on to wherever it is she’s supposed to go.” I didn’t want to examine too closely why I wanted her gone so badly. “Do you think Daley can see her?”

“Nope,” Miko replied without hesitation.

“Why not?”

“If Daley could see Melusine, he’d be happy.”

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

I sat cross-legged on my bed at the mansion with a magazine, but 10 Ways To Add Sparkle To Your Holiday Wardrobe couldn’t hold my attention. Giving up, I tossed it across the room at the dresser, but it missed and slid down the front to join the sweater, boots, three t-shirts, two pairs of jeans, and several textbooks on the floor. I was spending less and less time in my own home, but my two rooms were starting to look the same.

Peter had run out of excuses to give his parents and usually left before dinner. Missing him, I lay back and concentrated on the connection between us—a thread the color of new grass. As we both trained, our bond strengthened, and I was able to sense him without being near him. I’d also learned how to block that awareness. I never again wanted to catch even a hint of what he was feeling when he was making out with Miko. After that first horrifying experience, Taliesin taught me how to create a mental barrier to give us both some privacy. It was like imagining a pane of glass reflecting the bond away.

I tossed onto my side restlessly as I was reminded of my disappointing interview with the bard.

“Yes, I am aware that Melusine is still with us,” was his calm reply.

“What do you mean you’re ‘aware’ of it?” Miko squeaked. “Why haven’t you done anything about it?”

Taliesin sighed and glanced at the fridge behind us; we’d cornered him in the kitchen on his way to get a snack. “What would you have me do? Take away Daley’s only comfort in grief? Should I be that cruel?”

“You’ve been cruel before.”

Taliesin nodded. “Yes. But Melusine has not yet posed a threat to any of us. You remember how Daley’s sadness threatened to overwhelm him after death. You also know of how I first found Daley, but I will tell the tale again briefly for Rhiannon’s benefit.” He sat down at the kitchen table and gestured for us to join him. “Six years ago I went to consult with the Seer of New York.” He glanced at me and I remembered that the Seer of New York was Morgause, my mom’s and Morgan’s sister. It felt strange to think that I had another aunt out there, although an adopted one.

“She told me to seek out the Hudson River Psychiatric Center and that my journey to knowledge would begin there. Since the Seer is rarely so specific—or coherent—I immediately went in search of the place. It was very strange. Part of the facility was still in use, but the rest was abandoned and filled with ghosts. I could not see them, but I could hear them answer when I asked why the Seer had sent me to them. Their whispers led me to Daley who was starved and half-crazed. He had been sent to the facility for observation, but in his confused state had run away to join the spirits. They are like lightning, after all, being insubstantial and yet powerful. I do not know how long he was alone with them. If Daley remembers, he does not say.”

The magic in the bard’s voice transported me. I could see barred windows, rotting wood, and Daley huddled in a corner in the dark.

Taliesin continued, “Daley’s stepfather drank and his mother did nothing to protect the boy from the man’s rage. One night, Daley fought back. It was also the night of a great storm. Without meaning to, he tapped into the power that is his birthright and struck his stepfather down with lightning. When the house caught fire, Daley’s mother refused to leave her husband’s side. Daley tried to save her, but they were separated by flame.” The bard sighed. “I took him in as my son, but it wasn’t until we found Tynan that he began to heal. Daley’s great need is for a family to replace the one he lost. He was going to ask Melusine to marry him.”

“What?” Miko gasped.

“When she died, I was afraid we might lose him to the shadows again. Rowan began to sense that the girl’s spirit was still with us, but it seemed to help Daley and allow him to function. We hoped he would eventually let go and shed the ghost on his own.” The bard’s smile was grim. “I know we cannot let the situation carry on indefinitely. The more a spirit loses touch with its own identity, the more it believes that we, the living, are its enemy. But let us wait and see, for Daley’s sake.”

I tossed again and punched the pillow as I tried to get comfortable. Taliesin wanted us to stay out of it, but he couldn’t see the web of Melusine’s possessive desire.

She’s not going anywhere.

I gave up and got out of bed; maybe a quick run would clear my head.  Easing into the hallway, I closed the door carefully behind me.

“Where are you going?”

Startled pink starbursts blinded me, but I heard Tynan laugh softly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

As my eyes cleared, I forced myself to smile. “It’s OK. I couldn’t sleep so I was heading down to the gym.”

“I was going to go for a walk. Why don’t you come with me?” I couldn’t think of a way to say no so I followed him downstairs to the doors that opened onto the back terrace.

There was frost in the corners of the glass. “Maybe I should grab a jacket.”

“You won’t need one.” Opening one of the doors and stepping out, Tynan motioned for me to join him. My reluctance must have shown on my face as I came out. “Don’t worry. Look at what I can do.” He made a motion with his hand and the chilly air around us swirled, picking up dried leaves.

Coughing at the dust of the leaves as they disintegrated, I was about to tell Tynan to stop when I realized the air was now dry and warm. I looked at him in surprise. “That’s amazing.”

He ducked his head but I could see the white of his teeth as he smiled. “What color is it?”

Warm air flowed over my skin and I closed my eyes briefly. “Auburn with orange sparks. But how?”

“I’m agitating the atoms around us to create heat. At least, I think I am. I’ve never understood where science and magic meet.” He kicked at the remains of the leaves as they fell to the ground; the warm wind was gone. “It doesn’t matter. I won’t be able to do it again tomorrow.”

A hint of warmth stayed with me as I followed him out into the yard. “It must be frustrating.”

“If I knew who my real parents were, maybe I could make sense of it.”

“You honestly don’t remember anything from before Taliesin found you?”

Tynan shoved his hands in his pockets. “My first real memory is waking up in a bed at the ranch. Daley was watching over me.”

“Don’t you think it’s strange that you and Daley were both found in New York?”

He shrugged. “Not really. New York’s a magnet for anything paranormal. All the great cities of the world are. There’s lots of Paths in them too. If I somehow got lost on one, I could have come from anywhere in the world.” His fists clenched. “How can I find my destiny when I don’t know who I am?”

I turned away and looked up at the moon—it was almost full and it filled the sky with cold light. “I don’t believe in destiny. Knowing who your parents are might not give you any more answers than you already have.”

Tynan came up behind me and put his arms around me. I wasn’t short, but my head still came under his chin and I felt enveloped, trapped. “Finding out Cernunnos is your father is a good thing, Rhi.” His breath was warm on my hair.

“Really? He sounds pretty scary to me. Even his own sisters are afraid of him.”

“It’s better to know who you are than to be left guessing like me.” I tried to ignore a flash of irritation.

Tynan just can’t let go of his own deal.

The hard pounding of his heart against my back reminded me of the day Mom hid me from my father. She’d hidden me from the world. My birth mother had abandoned me to her. They never asked me what I wanted. Tynan wanted to make decisions for me too—wanted to make me feel something I didn’t feel.

I untangled myself from his arms as gently as I could and tried to change the mood. “Ty, I need to talk to you about Daley.”

The air around me ignited with a boom and I was hurled to the ground. Hot pain prickled across my arms and the smell of burning hair filled my nostrils. “What the hell!” I screamed, but Tynan was shouting back and his voice was unnaturally amplified.

“Daley! Always Daley! Don’t you know he can’t see you with her around? He can’t see anyone anymore. She will never let him go!” The house lights were turning on and it was only a matter of seconds before everyone found us.

“Can you see her?” I demanded. “Can you see Melusine?”

Tynan seemed to sink into himself. “She haunts me.”

Daley and Taliesin ran out. Ignoring me, the two of them half dragged, half carried Tynan into the house.

Rowan rushed to my side and hissed through his teeth when he saw my arms. “Are you all right?”

“I think so.”

Taking my hands, he helped me to my feet as he examined me. “It’s just your forearms and they’re scorched, not burned. I have something that will fix them.” He looked at me with gentle eyes. “Please forgive him. He has these episodes sometimes, but he won’t remember anything in the morning. He likes you so much, and that’s the problem; it reminds him of Melusine.” Rowan spat on the ground as if her name tasted vile. “It wasn’t enough she bewitched Daley, she had to toy with the boy too. Ty’s broken and Melusine dug her pretty little teeth into that break whenever she could. She even tried to come after me once, but Bo holds all my heart.”

Leading me into the house and down to the kitchen, Rowan retrieved an amber-colored glass jar from the fridge. The ointment in it smelled like wet grass. “Starweed for burns,” he explained as rubbed it into my skin, “but I’ve increased its potency.” When I ran my hands over my tingling forearms, they were smooth and hairless, but the pain was gone.

Once I assured the druid that his medicine had worked, I gathered my things and went home. I wasn’t mad at Tynan anymore. Knowing his history, I couldn’t be surprised he wasn’t stable. At least I had the answer to one of his problems.

The bitch has to go.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

At school the next day, I marched straight up to the one person who could help me—Lacey McInnis.

In less than three months, Lacey had tumbled from the top of the food chain all the way to the bottom. The other Bumblebees had been tolerant of the new Lacey for a while, but once she quit cheerleading, they moved on. With her stringy hair and sloppy clothes, the rumor started that she was hooked on meth.

I knew what she was really hooked on.

I leaned against the locker next to hers. “So, how’s the witch training going?”

Lacey lifted an eyebrow that hadn’t seen a tweezer for a while. “What are you talking about?” As she pushed a strand of dirty hair out of her face, I was shocked to see the growing length of black tattoos creeping up the underside of her arm.

“C’mon, a moron could have figured it out. You keep having all these super-secret study sessions with Cailleach, and you’ve gone all Courtney Love all of a sudden. The answer is obvious to anyone who even guesses that magic exists.”

Sighing, she closed her locker and leaned against it. “What do you want?”

“I need your help.”

Lacey looked at me like I was crazy. “You need my help? You’re the flavor of the month everyone’s all excited about and you need my help? Do you know how hard it’s been for me to achieve anything in magic? How much blood I’ve spilled from my own veins? I’ve basically given up sleeping and eating. Even with all that, I wouldn’t be anywhere without Cailleach helping me. And do you know what’s funny about that? Do you? Cailleach came here for you! When she found out you were already training with Taliesin, she decided to find a new apprentice. I said yes.” The last was defiant.

“Good for you.”

She stared at me for a second before responding. “What?”

“I said, ‘good for you’. Why should you be the one left in the dark?”

Lacey’s eyes went dead. Maybe she believed me. Maybe she was just too tired to fight. “What do you want?”

“Let’s get out of here.” I was skipping again, but my new birth certificate was my get out of jail free card.  Lacey closed her locker with a bang. I thought she was going to say no, but then she nodded and began walking for the exit. I had to hurry to keep up with her.

We drove in my car to a donut shop a couple of blocks away and I bought us both blueberry muffins which we took to a table in the corner. After a slow start, Lacey devoured hers. I pushed mine over and she started pulling it apart and popping pieces in her mouth. Her wrists looked fragile with the dark knots and swirls of the tattoos enclosing them.

“When was the last time you ate?”

“Not sure,” she mumbled between bites.

“Aren’t your parents getting worried?”

“Cailleach put a whammy on them so they only see what they want to see. So,” she said, brushing the crumbs away and changing the subject, “why do you need my help?”

“It’s something I think I need a witch for.” Either that or a priest. “It’s kind of an exorcism,” I added.

That caught her interest. “Cool. Demon?”

“Ghost, but a magic one.”

“Still cool. Way above my pay grade though. We would need Cailleach’s help.”

I told her the whole story. I even threw in the detail about Melusine coming on to Rowan to make sure I sealed the deal.

Lacey shook her head. “Wow. She sounds like a real piece of work. But if she’s not hurting anyone, why don’t you do what Taliesin says and let her fade away?”

“He can’t see her. I can, and believe me, she’s not letting go of Daley without a fight.”

“But what makes you think she’s so dangerous? She couldn’t even stop herself from getting shot.”

A thread of mauve unease wormed across my vision and I hesitated. When I didn’t reply, Lacey fidgeted and I knew I was losing her. Hoping I was doing the right thing, I said, “Melusine was the direct descendant of the original Melusine. She could turn into a dragon.”

Lacey leaned forward, her face filled with excitement. “So she could turn into a big old ghost-dragon any second?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t want to wait around and find out.” And I wanted Daley and Tynan out of Melusine’s scaly little paws.

“Sounds interesting.” She laughed brightly and was the Lacey I’d known almost all my life again. “Who am I kidding? It sounds awesome! I’m in. But I know what Cailleach’s going to ask—what’s in it for her?”

“She’s interested in me, right? Well, I’m interested in me too. If she still wants to, I’ll train with her. I’m not making a lot of progress right now. Maybe she can help me find some answers.” I was betting dangling that bait would be enough to snag Cailleach.

Lacey started to leave. “Where are you going?” I asked.

She turned and lifted an eyebrow at me. “I’m going to contact her.” I looked at her phone sitting on the table and she laughed again. “Haven’t they taught you anything? I need water and a basin. I use a scrying bowl when I want to talk magic with Cailleach. That way, no one else can listen in.”

I could feel my cheeks go warm. “Of course,” I murmured to cover my ignorance, but by the look on Lacey’s face, she wasn’t fooled.

After a few minutes, the girl returned and the fleeting energy some food had put into her was gone. Slumping down in her seat, she wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Cailleach has agreed to help, but she’s naming the time and place as a condition.”

“OK, when?”

“All Hallows Eve—Halloween. Are you going to the dance?”

“What dance?”

Lacey rolled her eyes. “The Halloween dance.” The “Stupid” afterwards was implied.

“I don’t know. Why?” Eastdale always held its dance the Friday before Halloween. It had been one of Peter’s and Lacey’s first dates.

Lacey’s face clouded and I wondered if she was remembering the same thing. “I’ll give you the rest of your instructions then.”

“Why?”

“Because Cailleach says so, that’s why. A spell like this is delicate and takes planning. She’ll let you know what she wants you to do when she’s ready.”

As we left, I could tell Lacey was pleased to be back on top of our personal little food chain. I blinked away angry red specks—the dance was just a few days away and I could endure it until then. When I dropped her off beside her own car, she drove away without saying good-bye.

When I went back to the mansion, Rowan met me at the door and told me Tynan had no memory of attacking me and the ability he’d shown was gone too. Still, I was glad he was out target shooting with Peter and Daley in the makeshift range at the side of the property. I’d been surprised when Peter told me he was learning to shoot. Guns were useless against advanced magic beings, but apparently they worked just fine on a lot of lower monsters and most of the Protectors were packing.

I found Miko in her room and told her about my plan to get Lacey’s help. To my relief, the fairy was all for it. We both decided to leave Peter out of it. He was spending a lot of time with Daley and my best friend didn’t exactly have a poker face.

I felt bad about it, but not as bad as I should have.

The one wrinkle was Melusine. Each day I spent at the mansion, I became more attuned to Daley’s power. I was beginning to be as aware of him as I was of Peter—as if we had our own bright bond. But I could feel Melusine through it too. I could see her all the time now, hovering around him, whispering in his ear. When I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, she was still there, shimmering in aquamarine. Once I tried to touch the color of her power. As it passed through my fingers, my hand brushed Daley’s shoulder and we both jumped as electricity arced between us. Daley stared at me with dark, unreadable eyes. I looked at Melusine.

The day before the dance, Melusine turned and looked back.

We were all in the kitchen. Yelping in surprise, I bumped into Peter and he dropped the plate he was loading up with Rowan’s brownies. Melusine pressed herself against Daley and stared at me, her eyes filled with meaning. He seemed oblivious.

For the rest of the night, she made sure I saw Daley was hers by pawing and kissing him whenever I was around. Then she confirmed my suspicion she wasn’t confined to the vicinity of the necklace—or my awareness of Daley’s power—when she appeared in the air above me as I lay half-asleep in bed. Screaming, I tumbled to the floor in a tangle of blankets and pillows.

Tynan’s room was next to mine and he rushed in. “I heard you scream. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. It was just a nightmare.” I sent the same message down the green bond that vibrated with Peter’s concern.

Floating in air and wrapping her white legs around Tynan’s waist, the ghost flicked a silver tongue into his ear. Tynan’s cheeks flamed and he excused himself.

I couldn’t wait for Halloween.

When I shuffled down to the kitchen for breakfast the next morning, I was surprised to find Peter sitting with his elbows on the table, running his thumbnail between his teeth. He looked up when I came in and laid his palms flat against the surface, but he didn’t smile.

“I want to know what’s going on.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t mess with me, Rhi. I can feel it in here.” He tapped his chest. “You’re hiding something and I want in.”

I sat down. “I didn’t want to drag you into it.”

“This thing between us—this bond—it doesn’t give us a choice, does it. I go where you go.”

I sighed and nodded. “I’m sorry. You’re right.” I told him everything about Melusine and the plan to get rid of her, including Lacey learning magic from Cailleach.

“Don’t you think you should have told me all this days ago?”

I felt a twinge of guilt as the bond between us pulled and strained. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Peter slammed his fists down on the table and I gasped at the violence of it. I’d never, ever seen Peter lose control.

Is there a Protector version of ‘roid rage?

He flattened his hands against the table again, but they were shaking. “You and me for always, remember? No matter what, I have your back and you have mine. Right?”

A sudden chill crept up my spine. “Even if I’m wrong?” I asked softly.

“Even if you’re wrong,” he replied without hesitation. “The way I see it, you pick a side and stick with it. Maybe sometimes we’ll be right and maybe sometimes we’ll be wrong, but if we stick with each other, it’ll even out in the end. If this is your plan, then I’m with you.”

“What about Taliesin and Rowan?”

Peter smiled and the man filled with coiled aggression who’d assaulted the furniture a moment ago was gone. “I’ve known those guys for like, what, five minutes? What do you think?” I leaned over to give him a fierce hug.

“You and me,” he said when I released him.

“You and me.” I agreed, but in my heart I knew I was capable of choosing something else.

I pushed the thought away. “Do you want to go to the dance tonight?”

“The Halloween dance? Are you joking? Why?”

“Lacey wants me to meet her there so she can give me the rest of Cailleach’s instructions.”

“Why doesn’t she come by and give them to you? Or text you?”

Peter was right. Meeting Lacey at the dance seemed unnecessary, but I didn’t want to risk putting her off by being difficult about it. “I don’t know, but let’s just go with it, OK?”

“Fine. But you know you have to dress up, right?”

I stared at him as he smirked at me.

Kill me now.

CHAPTER THIRTY

I checked myself out in the mirror again.

“C’mon, what’s taking so long?” Peter had been asking some variation of that for the past half hour. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and refused to look at his face until he said something.

“Wow.”

I could feel my cheeks burning. “Is it OK?”

Peter laughed. “OK? Are you kidding me? Don’t get me wrong, Rhi, because I just don’t think of you that way, but you’re like totally hot.”

I couldn’t help grinning. “Don’t be an idiot.”

Dragon or no dragon, when Peter told me dressing up for the dance was mandatory, I wanted to scuttle the whole plan. He and Miko convinced Tynan and Daley to go too and it became a whole group date thing again.

Because that turned out so well the last time.

I fidgeted in my costume. Going as the Little Mermaid had seemed like a good idea at the time. Streaks of red hair paint enhanced the highlights in my hair and I’d scrunched and fluffed it into a mass of curls. A green bikini top was covered in sequins from the craft box hidden in the back of my closet. Rummaging through Mom’s wardrobe, I’d found a long green skirt so tight that I couldn’t imagine how she’d ever walked in it. It was made of a ruched material, and when I cut slits in the bottom edge, it fanned out to suggest a mermaid’s tail. The skirt hung low on the hips and it was sheer enough to show my legs and bikini bottoms in the light.

I felt naked.

Peter was dressed as Superman and it was the same costume he wore when he took Lacey the year before. I didn’t think it was the smartest idea, but it was too late to change now. Our school had a strict policy about dances—show up at the starting time or you didn’t get in.

“Tynan’s going to pop a gasket.”

“That’s not what I want.” I rummaged through my purse until I found the charm bracelet. I was starting to feel silly about hiding something so pretty. I fastened the silver chain around my wrist, but I still twisted it so the charm was on the inside and dangled against my palm. “I’m not interested in Tynan that way.”

Peter’s pale eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I thought you liked him.”

“I do, but . . . he’s got issues.”

As we walked to the Celica, I threw Peter the keys—there was no way I could drive stick in this outfit. As I eased into the passenger seat and the seams of my skirt strained, I prayed to make it through the night without a wardrobe malfunction.

Putting his key in the ignition, Peter paused and looked at me. “Is it Daley?”

“I don’t know,” I murmured.

Peter sighed as he started the car and pulled away from the house. “Maybe Tynan has issues, but so does Daley. I talked to him about Melusine.”

“You what?”

“Don’t worry. I didn’t tell him anything, but Daley’s my friend. I just wanted to know how he still felt about her. He’s got to be aware of her on some level.”

“What did he say?”

Peter hesitated before answering. “That he will never love anyone the way he loved her.” Something crushed my heart in its icy fist. “I’m sorry, Rhi.”

We were approaching the gate when a flash of something caught my eye. “Stop for a second.”

Peter hit the brakes. “What? What is it?”

“I’m not sure, but I thought I saw something running around the back of your house.”

He peered out the window. “A coyote?”

“I couldn’t tell.” Coyotes were pests, but not usually dangerous to people. They’d go after dogs or cats though and the stud farm had plenty of those.

Peter put the car in park and got out. As I watched, I noticed how muscled he was and how he walked with a kind of dangerous grace.

We’re all changing so much.

He disappeared behind the house for a couple of minutes and then returned, got in the car, and drove away without saying a word.

I stared at him. “Well? Did you find anything?”

He was breathing fast, but his voice was steady. “Paw prints—lots of them—all around the house.”

“Like the ones in the guesthouse?”

“Yup.”

“Coyote?”

“Too big.”

My mouth went dry. “What about your parents? Shouldn’t we warn them or something?”

Peter shook his head. “They’ve gone to a show in Toronto and they’re staying overnight in a hotel downtown. Old Tom was going to lock up the horses and go visit his daughter in Port Hope, so he’s probably already gone too. We’ll take care of things at the dance and then get the others to come back with us. I think we’re going to need their help.”

“Is it another Cŵn Annwn?”

“I don’t know, but there’s more seaweed piled up behind the house. It was like some kind of crazy nest.”

What nests in seaweed hundreds of miles from the nearest ocean?

“I heard something howling a few days ago but I thought it was Tom’s dog.”

“Let’s just do what we need to at the dance and get back as soon as possible.”

We were quiet until we reached the school and parked. Shuffling inside in my skirt, I presented our tickets to one of the students sitting at the table outside the gym.

“Hey, Rhi! Love your costume.” It was one of the Bumblebees dressed as a sexy nurse. I was pretty sure her name was Angela, but they all tended to mash together into one black and yellow swarm. Apparently none of them remembered they used to be almost completely unaware of my existence.

I felt bad that I hadn’t really returned the favor.

“Thanks,” I said as Sexy Nurse stamped my hand. “I like your costume too. Have you seen Lacey yet?”

Sexy Nurse exchanged a look with Sexy Little Red Riding Hood, another Bumblebee. “Oh, we’ve seen her. Maybe you can talk some sense into her. We’ve all tried.”

“I’ll try too,” I said and that seemed to satisfy them. Sexy Nurse gave me a smile and a wave while Sexy Red stamped Peter’s hand like she was kissing it.

I was too eager to find Lacey to wait for him to disentangle himself. As I entered the gym, the noise of the music and the color of the flashing strobe lights hit me with so much force that I thought my own colors had burst out of me and splattered all over the walls. My vision blurred, but I steadied myself and looked for Lacey.

She wasn’t hard to find.

Swaying to the music, Lacey was dressed in black leather pants and a vest that pushed her breasts up past PG-13 territory. A studded choker and teased hair completed the biker chick look, but I knew the black tattoos crawling over her bare arms and shoulders were real.

As I approached, her eyes flew open, though I doubted she could hear me over the music. I would have expected her eyes and lips to be made up to match her outfit, but she wasn’t wearing any makeup at all. In fact, her face was ashy pale. She shouted something, but I shook my head and pointed to my ear to show I couldn’t hear. Grabbing my arm, she pulled me to the far exit and down the hall to the backstage entrance of the auditorium.

“No one will bother us in here.” I followed her through the wings and onto the stage. It was pitch black except for the light above the stage manager’s table. I couldn’t see where the stage ended and the chairs began and I had a strange impression of nothingness—as if the rest of the world had disappeared.

“Scary, isn’t it.” I could hardly see Lacey, but her voice carried. “All those people—it’s terrifying. But once you get going, it’s such a rush.” I wondered if she’d even auditioned for this year’s show and her next words answered me. “I’ll miss it, but Cailleach says performing is a type of magic. Until she frees me, all my magic is bound to her.”

“What do you mean, ‘frees you’?”

Lacey’s laughter was harsh. “Don’t you know yet, Rhiannon?” She stressed my name strangely. “None of us are free. Taliesin wants something, and if you don’t give it to him, he’ll just take it. Arthur and Morgan are worse. If you go to them, Arthur will enslave you the same way he did her. If you fight them, you’ll die. You can always join your father I guess, but maybe there’s a good reason your mother was hiding you from him.” I was surprised by how much she knew and was glad the darkness hid my face. “At least Cailleach has promised to give me my freedom once she has what she wants.”

“What does she want then?”

Lacey laughed again. “It doesn’t matter. What do you want?”

“I want Melusine gone.”

“Why?”

We’d been over this already. “Because she’s dead. Because she enchanted Daley when she was alive. Because she could hurt him. She could hurt all of us.”

“And because you love him.”

The words rang out through the stage and the auditorium like a bell.

“Yes.”

Lacey walked back into the glow of the stage manager’s light and I left the abyss of the stage to join her. She handed me a piece of paper with elegant handwriting on it. “I’m glad you were honest with me. It makes everything so much easier. Cailleach’s powers rise at Samhain—Halloween—and she’ll meet you at that address and that precise time. This is your spell, so you need to find all the items yourself. Don’t pawn it off on Peter.”

I didn’t like her tone. “Of course not.”

She tapped her fingernails against the table a couple of times as we stared at each other. “Can I give you a piece of advice?”

I was starting to lose patience and a thread of angry scarlet wormed its way across my vision. “What?”

“Leave Daley alone. Be happy with Peter and Tynan. Cailleach says even the redcap has a thing for you. Isn’t that enough? Why do you need Daley too?”

Scarlet frosted with ice. “This is for Daley’s own good and everyone else’s safety.”

Lacey backed away into the darkness. “You’re his daughter—what can you know about ‘good’? Maybe someday, someone will decide to put you down for their own safety, for everyone’s ‘good’. Maybe they already have. Something’s stalking you, Rhi . . .”

My name whispered and echoed across the stage, but I knew Lacey was already gone.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

I opened the stage door and walked out of the darkness, squinting at the transition to the fluorescent lighting in the hall. Clutching my list, I stumbled around a corner and walked straight into a couple making out against one of the lockers.

The girl pushed away in surprise. She was wearing a mask with feathers draping down her neck and a black-feathered ballet skirt, but I would have known her anywhere. It was Miko.

The guy with her wasn’t Peter.

I didn’t get a good look at him as he took off out the back door, but I caught a glimpse of white teeth when he turned to smile at me. I remembered the text she received that day by the pool and the old friend who wanted to hook up some time.

Apparently that’s exactly what they did.

We stared at each other—Miko covering the side of her face with her hand and me crushing Cailleach’s instructions into a ball. The paper was sweaty and ragged, but it was better than doing what I wanted to do.

It was better than punching her in the face.

“It’s not my fault,” she whispered. “I tried to tell you—you can’t trust a fairy.”

I turned and walked away.

“He promised me wings.” I could tell she was crying, but I didn’t stop. I could feel the red rising inside me was too dangerous for me to be around her. Almost blinded by angry crimson, I went back to the dance to find Peter.

“Rhi? Are you OK?” I was surprised to discover I’d almost walked right past Daley without seeing him.

“No. No, I’m not,” I said, but I knew he couldn’t hear me. He stared at me for a moment, then reached out and pulled me into his arms.

“What are you doing?” I yelped. The music had changed abruptly to a pop ballad and my voice was loud in the sudden quiet. Daley smiled. My embarrassment increased as I realized my arms were somehow around his neck and his hands were warm on the curve of my bare waist. We were dancing, sort of.

If you call me swaying back and forth in this stupid skirt dancing.

“You looked a little unsteady.” He glanced over his left shoulder at my hand. “What’s that?”

I crushed the paper into an even smaller ball. “Just something I need to take care of.” I took a look at him. “What are you supposed to be?” He was wearing jeans, a black t-shirt, and a black leather jacket.

“Just me.”

I shivered in his arms. That’s all he needed to be—just Daley. Costumes might be mandatory, but I doubted anyone would have dared to try and stop him from getting in. “Why are we dancing?”

He shrugged. “It seemed like the thing to do.” For once there was no challenge, no twist of suspicion in his voice. “A better question is what am I even doing here?”

There was no sign of Melusine and the necklace was tucked away under his shirt, so I relaxed a little. “I really don’t know. I thought you’d bail.”

Daley laughed and my heart skipped a beat; I’d never made him laugh before. I wanted to tell him everything—about Melusine, about me, even about Miko—but then his irises darkened and I could have sworn fine blades of lightning were flickering across them. Pulling me closer, he frowned as if he didn’t understand what he was doing. My body was molded so closely to his that when a rumble of distant thunder vibrated through me, I wasn’t sure where I ended and he began.

Daley closed his eyes as if he couldn’t look at me anymore, but he leaned in and his mouth brushed mine. Gasping as electric sparks arced across my lips, I pulled back and that’s when I saw them.

Melusine and Tynan standing together staring at us.

Shoving Daley away, I focused on Melusine’s fury because I couldn’t bear to look at Tynan. He was dressed as a pirate, like a little boy.

Daley stiffened and turned. “Ty . . .”

Melusine’s face hardened as she realized Daley still couldn’t see her. Iridescent scales rippled across her skin.

I braced myself to face the dragon.

The stench of seawater and rotting fish filled the air. People stopped dancing and looked around, making faces at the smell. A moment later, the fire alarm went off and kids started running for the exits. Teachers struggled to keep things under control and I was surprised to see Thomas Redcap among them.

Miko had to push against the crowd to reach us. “I pulled the alarm to get everyone out.” I refused to respond to the pleading in her eyes as Peter joined us.

I haven’t decided if I’m going to tell him his girlfriend is a lying skank.

Peter’s pale eyebrows shot up as he wrinkled his nose. “Do you smell that?”

I nodded. It smelled like something that nested in piles of rotting seaweed.

The gym was now almost empty. One of the teachers began to walk towards us to herd us out, but Miko made a slight motion with her hand and he turned and ran out the nearest door.

“He thinks we’re following him,” she explained.

“Thanks Meek,” Tynan said.

“Glamour is the only thing fairies are good for.” She seemed so sad that I was tempted to forgive her, but one look at Peter, oblivious in his dorky Superman costume, and I just couldn’t.

I caught his eye. “Can you see anything?”

“Nope. I’ll cut the strobes.” He went over to the abandoned DJ equipment and fiddled with the knobs until the colored lights stopped flashing.

“There.” Daley pointed to the far side of the room. “By the wall. Something’s moving.” Melusine drifted to his side. The dragon had subsided.

Miko frowned as she concentrated. “It has a type of glamour, enough to make it almost disappear in shadow, but it will have to come out to attack.” She swayed, but Tynan caught her and steadied her. When she pulled away, her costume was dark and wet around the neckline and something that looked like blood stained the sleeve of Tynan’s shirt.

We all jumped when the door to the gym crashed open, but it was just Redcap. “I see you’ve cornered the Dobhar-chú,” he commented as he sauntered towards us, “but this one has friends hiding in the corners.” I caught the fleeting impression of movement on the far edges of the room. “Water-hounds are cautious killers. I’ve been following this pack ever since I caught their scent.”

“What are they hunting?” It had to be asked, but I already knew the answer.

Redcap winked. “Why, you, mo leanabh, of course. They’ve been hunting you.”

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

Terror presented itself in its usual cold white, but I wasn’t sure anymore that I could trust what I felt/saw. Ignoring it, I stuffed the crumpled up paper in my fist into the only place my costume would allow—my not-so ample cleavage. A couple of quick rips and the slits in my skirt opened up past my knees. Redcap’s smile had turned into a bit of a leer, but at least I could move freely.

Daley put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Call Dad.” Tynan nodded and pulled out his phone.

Redcap seemed amused. “Good idea. I’d forgotten the bard has some expertise in canine matters.”

Peter walked back to us, never taking his eyes off the prowling shadows. “What’s a water-hound?”

“A very vicious creature,” Redcap replied.

“Like the Cŵn Annwn?”

Redcap shook his head. “No, nothing like. The hounds of Avalon are dangerous but noble creatures. The Dobhar-chú honor nothing. They kill for the joy of it. Dobhar-chú means water-hound, but they aren’t hounds at all. They’re monsters born in the depths of the sea, but as long as there’s enough water to keep their hides moist, they can make their nests almost anywhere.”

I thought of the wet carpet in the guesthouse and the small stream that ran on the edges of Windfield and behind the main house.

“The Dobhar-chú will study their prey and wait till they have the advantage. They probably followed you here in the hopes of taking you by surprise in the confusion and noise.” He ogled my body and his mouth twitched. “And when you’re hampered by that quite fetching outfit.”

I flushed and crossed my arms over my chest. “Why are they after me?”

Redcap shrugged. “Likely they’ve been conjured by someone to eliminate you.”

“Who?” He shrugged again.

Miko pointed. “That one’s bigger. It might be the leader.” I could see the shape of the creature, but nothing else.

“Can you do anything about its glamour?” Daley asked. Melusine stood close to him and she seemed more solid than before.

The fairy’s face was strained. “I’m trying to break through, but it’s hard.” She swayed again and then straightened her shoulders. There was a moment of change, as if the earth shrugged under my feet, and then everything looked subtly different. Miko had broken the Dobhar-chú’s glamour.

“Fairies are good for something,” she muttered as she fell to the ground.

“Miko!” Peter cried as he rushed to her and pulled her limp body into his arms. Her feathered headdress fell off and I could see the two small puncture wounds on the side of her neck and the thin stream of blood leaking from them. There was a hiss of indrawn breath—Daley’s—and my attention returned to the shadows.

But the shadows were gone. Instead, four enormous creatures stared at me.

Redcap whistled softly. “They hunt in mated pairs. Someone most certainly wants you dead to send two sets after you.”

I was almost submerged in a torrent of white fear. Redcap was right; they were nothing like the beautiful and terrifying Cŵn Annwn. The largest was as long as Tynan was tall. Dark and slimy, rotting seaweed was matted in its wet fur and its claws and teeth were yellow and dripping. The smell of dead fish made me want to gag.

“Dad’s on his way,” Tynan said.

Daley grunted. “I’m not sure he’ll get here in time. We’ll have to take care of this ourselves.”

Tynan hunched his shoulders. “I don’t have anything in me today.”

“You’re bigger and stronger than anyone else here except Peter. Stay between Rhi and the Dobhar-chú.”

I felt a flash of acid purple irritation; I didn’t need a six foot four babysitter. “Why don’t you just zap it?” I made a gesture to indicate throwing lighting.

“My abilities are limited inside. If I can lure them out. . .” He gasped and stared at my arm. Before I could react, he grabbed my wrist.

“Ow!” I cried as he twisted it to catch the light. The silver wheel charm dangling from the delicate chain sparkled with pale fire.

“Where did you get this?” His fingers dug into my flesh.

“You’re hurting me!” I tried to pull away and keep an eye on the Dobhar-chú at the same time, but Daley’s grip was unbreakable. Tynan and Peter watched us in confusion.

Redcap frowned and put his hand on Daley’s. “You’re hurting the girl. Let her go. Now!”

Daley was taller, but Redcap’s face was dangerous. Daley released me and I glared at him as I rubbed my bruised wrist.

Stepping between us, Redcap gave me a reassuring smile and took my hand gently to lift it back up to the light. “Is that what I think it is?” he murmured.

Daley answered him. “It is. I’ve been searching for it all my life! I would know it anywhere.”

Redcap raised an eyebrow at me. “Where did you find it?”

“Guys,” Peter interrupted, “I think we have more important things to worry about right now.”

I glanced over at the beasts; they were definitely closer.

“Actually,” Redcap replied, “this is indeed quite important ‘right now’.”

I was starting to panic and yellow fluorescence surged through me; the creatures were getting ready to pounce. “It’s Viviane’s. I found it with her things. Satisfied?”

“Yes, quite.” Before I could move, Redcap snapped the charm off the chain and presented it to Daley with a flourish. “Our Rhiannon may have found the Wheel of Taranis in Viviane’s jewelry box, but I believe it belongs to you.”

The moment Daley’s fingers touched it, the charm expanded until it was the size of a small shield. His hand fit around the edge and between two of the spokes as if it had been made for him.

Which I guess it probably was.

With a mighty heave, Daley threw it against the windows on the outside wall of the gym and they shattered. The scar on my wrist burned and I felt the wheel’s power as it soared into the sky, searching for thunder and lightning.

The Dobhar-chú attacked.

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

I was wrong about Melusine—the dragon hadn’t entirely subsided. As the Dobhar-chú leaped at us, Melusine swept shining claws across the closest one’s belly. It surged through her insubstantial form and collapsed on the ground with its guts spilling out. The ghost disappeared and the other Dobhar-chú skidded to a stop on the smooth gym floor.

The Wheel of Taranis whizzed through the air and returned to Daley’s hand like an electrified boomerang. Pointing it at one of the beasts, he gestured and lightning spun out of it and ripped a long gash along the creature’s back. Even though it was wounded, it never made a sound. Daley raised his arm to strike again, but the beast sprang and knocked him to the ground. The Wheel fell out of his hand and skidded across the floor.

Tynan struggled to pull the Dobhar-chú off his brother as Daley held its forelegs to keep the gnarled claws from slashing his chest. The third beast circled Peter who was still crouched beside Miko. Redcap used his own sharp nails to rake its flank while Peter punched it with his fists.

That left the last, the biggest, facing me. I had to keep my eyes open, but I tried to sense its essence. I almost had it and there was nothing pure about it—the Dobhar-chú’s colors were moldy and putrid—then it slipped away. I needed to get close enough to touch it. Wet eyes gleamed with intelligence and I knew it had orchestrated this moment, separating me from my friends to tear me apart.

Three howls pierced the air and the Dobhar-chú lifted its ugly, dripping head to look past us. A white form sped past me so fast that it was almost a blur. With a great leap, it launched itself at the monster. The two creatures—one black and one white—fought in frenzied motion and eerie silence. When my friends dispatched their own attackers and the beasts lay dead, they gathered beside me to watch.

“What is it?” Peter held Miko tenderly in his arms, but he still flanked me, ready to fight.

“It’s a Cŵn Annwn,” Redcap answered and then frowned, “only, somehow it’s not.”

The Cŵn Annwn was smaller and was losing the fight. Daley lifted the Wheel, but I put a hand on his arm to stop him—there was no way to strike one animal without hurting the other.

I shook off the static electricity that accompanied every contact with Daley. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t get close enough to touch the Dobhar-chú and take its power. The Cŵn Annwn would die and it would be my fault; I would never be able to hide from the shame of what I’d done to it.

Hiding—that was something I knew intimately. Closing my eyes, I conjured up Viviane’s voice.

Rhiannon, listen to me. We cannot be seen. Hide in the shadows and be still and silent.

The veil of blue mist that appeared in my mind had broken apart almost into nothingness. Acting on intuition, I searched among the orphaned remnants of color in my mind. Similar tones spoke of sadness and loss, but this one was very specific. I was about to give up when I sensed a small amount and called it to myself. With a thought, I added it to Viviane’s mist and repaired it. Giving it a mental push, I opened my eyes.

A substance like filmy cloth lay in my hands.

Redcap approached cautiously. “What is it, mo leanabh?”

“The spell Viviane used to hide me, but I’ve changed it a little.” Before he could question me further, I threw the veil of blue over the Dobhar-chú.

Viviane used this to hide me from the world. Let’s see how you like being hidden from what you need to survive.

Slipping past the Cŵn Annwn, the color molded itself to the other creature’s skin. The hound of Avalon backed away, sides heaving, as the Dobhar-chú tried to claw the veil off. The spell was created by Viviane from her strengths—the hidden depths of water and the dark side of the moon. The Dobhar-chú needed water to survive, but with this spell, I was the master of water. I hid every cell of the creature from even the tiniest molecule of moisture. Thrashing and struggling, it made the first sound since it revealed itself—a sad, strangled whine. Even through the blue, I could see the creature dry and contract until it was a desiccated husk. When I released the spell, the Dobhar-chú’s body collapsed in on itself and crumbled into dust.

Something brushed my leg and I looked down, but I was too sick of myself and what I’d done to be further surprised. A grey wolf approached the Cŵn Annwn. The two animals touched noses in silent communication and then the Cŵn Annwn gave three howls. As the air shimmered, the grey wolf disappeared and Taliesin stood in its place.

I remembered the passage in the bard’s journal: I have fled as a wolf cub. I have fled as a wolf in the wilderness. I remembered that Goodfellow had said, “Many a year he once padded through my forests, as silent as the wind.” Taliesin was a shapeshifter. At least, that’s what I guessed he was. He certainly didn’t fit the profile of a snowboarding werewolf.

The bard approached and the Cŵn Annwn followed, limping. “I would like you to meet Seolan. He is the hound of Avalon whose power you took. He has returned to the state of his birth before Cernunnos transformed him and has been rejected by his pack.” Taliesin scratched the dog behind his large ears and the animal leaned against him in satisfaction. “Seolan is an Irish Wolfhound. They were once the hunting dogs of the nobility of that land and he is still formidable, but now mortal. By taking his power, you have declared dominance over him. He accepts you as the leader of your pack and seeks to be allowed into it. To please you, he has been hunting the Dobhar-chú while they have been hunting you.”

Taliesin gestured and the dog took two steps forward, long nails clicking on the gym floor. I kneeled down and placed my hand on his head. Closing my eyes, I searched for his colors, but nothing of the supernatural creature he once was remained. He was just a large dog with white hair threaded with grey.

Seolan lowered his head to his paws and looked up at me with deep, liquid eyes.

I wanted to run. I wanted to wrap myself in a veil of blue so dark no one would ever find me. What I’d done to him was unforgivable. I’d stolen from him the joy of the hunt, the wild sky, and the warm gift of belonging. I’d taken his life out of curiosity and ignorance and left a smaller, greyer one in return. I was the monster here.

But Seolan forgave me. I saw it in his eyes. Throwing my arms around his neck, I pressed my face against his silky hair and cried for the first time since Mom died. Seolan waited patiently while I purged myself of all my grief.

“Guess I missed the fun.”

Miko was awake. Rubbing her neck and grimacing at the fresh blood smeared on her hands, the fairy stepped towards me as if she wanted to say something and then stopped, eyes wide.

“I feel funny  . . .” She convulsed as shudders rippled through her body. There was a wet, ripping sound and wings sprang from her back as delicate and translucent as I’d imagined fairy wings would be.

But they were also black and had the thick ridges and jagged edges of the wings of a bat.

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

Daley and I sat on the landing at the top of the stairs. After a tense drive home, Miko and Peter had gone to her room.

Then the yelling began.

Everyone else was hiding from the drama and even Seolan had run away into the forest behind the house. With her wings appearing like that, Miko had come clean and confessed she’d let her Ex infect her with his bite. Peter’s deep anger had been frightening and I’d had to block my awareness of him through our bond.

I watched Daley from the corner of my eye. The wheel charm had shrunk back to its original size and he was rubbing it absently.

Redcap had called it the Wheel of Taranis. I wanted to know more, but Miko’s transformation had been so stunning that I didn’t notice when he slipped away.

Did Mom want me to find it? Why did she have it? Was she hiding it from Daley?

“I should have known. I should have stopped this,” Daley said bitterly.

“How could you possibly have known?”

He shoved the charm in the pocket of his jeans and dragged his fingers though his hair. “Miko always had a thing about not having wings. I thought it was enough that she was Binnorie’s keeper, that she had a purpose. I guess not. She must have been desperate to do what she did. I should have known,” he repeated. “It was my responsibility.”

“No, it’s not. You’re not her keeper or her judge, no matter what Taliesin says.”

His body sagged. “I guess Miko and Tynan have been talking about me.”

I put my hand on his shoulder, but the jolt that shot through it made me gasp and sparks of power danced between my fingers. “Do you see that?” I whispered.

He put his hand over mine and the sparks flew higher. “Yes.” Sliding his fingers down my arm, Daley laughed softly as electricity raised the fine hairs. Shivering, I pulled away, but he grabbed my hand to stop me. Tracing the lines of the scar on my wrist with his finger, he looked at me and blades of lightning flashed through his eyes.

It was hard to be so close—the sting of his power hurt—but it was harder to stay apart. As I pressed myself against him and he put his arms around me, the tremble in his body was like silent thunder.

Ice touched my back and I was wrenched away. Skidding down the stairs on my behind, I hit the ground with a thud. Daley stared at me for a moment in stunned surprise and then came after me.

“Are you all right? What happened?” He helped me to stand.

I tried to cover my embarrassment with a laugh. “I’m OK. I must have slipped somehow.” Movement caught my eye. Melusine hovered above the spot where we’d been sitting and she was smiling. The ghost had pushed me. When she waved at me coyly, light caught the luminous claws on her fingers.

Daley followed my gaze. “What are you looking at?”

I was saved from answering by the sound of a door crashing against the wall. Peter stomped down the stairs and his face was so filled with fury that even Melusine swished out of the way.

Miko ran after him. “I’m sorry!” Her wings were retracted and she looked pale and fragile.

“Save it!” Peter snarled as he pushed past Daley. With a growl, he turned and drove his fist through the window beside the front door. I jumped back as shards of glass hit the floor around him. Miko’s scream brought the bard and druid running.

Rowan approached Peter like he was an animal that might bite. “Steady, lad. Don’t move too fast or you’ll do more damage.”

Ignoring him, Peter yanked his arm out of the jagged break in the window. I was shocked. He wasn’t even scratched. When he looked at me, his eyes were bleak. “We’re all changing so much,” he whispered.

Miko was crying, but Peter just continued to stare at me as the anger drained out of him. Through our bond, I let him feel that I was with him, always. He nodded, knowing I would come with him, and then opened the front door and walked out.

“Rhi?” the fairy said softly.

“Go away, Miko.” I couldn’t look at her, but I heard her obey.

Taliesin walked away without commenting, but Rowan hesitated. “Coming into one’s power is different for everyone, and change is,”—he paused and his face was sympathetic—“inevitable.” After a moment, he followed the bard.

Melusine had already drifted off to wherever she went when she wasn’t stalking Daley. He was clutching her pendant and wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Goodnight,” he murmured and then climbed the stairs to the bedrooms. I was left standing alone in broken glass.

The wood floor creaked and pink splattered across my vision as my heart jolted in surprise. Not quite alone—Tynan lurked in the shadows behind the stairs.

“Good night, Rhiannon.” His voice was strange—darker, older—and the colors it conjured in my mind were disturbing.

I couldn’t manage a reply as I let myself out.

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

Halloween and trapped were the first thoughts to penetrate my soggy brain. Headache, hungry, and morning followed. Pushing myself up on my forearms, I scraped back the tangled hair from my face to see why I couldn’t move.

Seolan was lying across my legs. I’d heard him howl a few times and knew he was close by, but hadn’t seen him since the night of the dance.

The dog moved off when I shifted. Giving him a tentative pat on the head, I kicked away my blankets and got out of bed. How he got inside was obvious when I went into the living room. I always left the kitchen window open a little, even when the weather got cold. It was wide open now and the screen was on the floor. Muddy paw prints dotted the kitchen counter, but I couldn’t be mad; they blended in with the dirty dishes and empty takeout containers. I pulled the window almost closed but left the screen out.

The movement intensified the pain in my head. Bottles of pills were stashed in every room now—I’d tried everything legal looking for relief. The drug of choice in the kitchen was aspirin. Popping two in my mouth, I swallowed them without water, then decided to take two more. I wasn’t going to let a headache spoil the day.

It was October thirty-first— Samhain—and I was finally going to get rid of Melusine.

Since the dance, the ghost had grown bolder. She roamed the mansion freely and I’d endured a number of increasingly solid pushes and slaps when I wasn’t expecting it. After she raked my arm with a luminous claw during dinner and I had to pretend I’d somehow cut myself with my own knife, I lied about having a cold and stayed away from the mansion for a couple of days.

I still needed to pick up the items for the spell. Scrawled across the bottom of the page of instructions Lacey gave me was a note that elements collected as close as possible to Samhain had more inherent power, so it was a good excuse to skip school. After a half-hearted attempt to tidy up, I pulled my hair into a loose bun and left the house. Seolan slipped out with me and bounded off down the laneway into the trees, but not before nuzzling my hand with his nose. I had a feeling he’d be back.

It was nice to have someone to come home to.

I spent the day gathering everything and then grabbed some food from the only roadside taco truck in Oshawa. It meant a trip to the edge of town, but the extra fortification was worth it. I had just enough time to wolf down two soft tacos before the dimming sky told me it was time to go. I arrived home to find Seolan sleeping on the couch and the wind whistling through the open kitchen window. I turned up the heat and closed the window just enough to keep the worst of the cold out in case the hound wanted to leave the house while I was gone.

By the time I was showered and dressed, it was almost dark. Gathering my purchases, I was just putting them into one bag when Peter opened the front door and stuck his head in.

“Hey, I have Mom’s van so I thought I’d pick you up.”

“Thanks.” I followed him outside. Pulling the door closed firmly, I checked on the sprig of holly above it. It was still green.

As we walked to the van, I could feel Peter worrying about seeing Miko. The last few days had been difficult. She’d called and texted, but he hadn’t answered. When she started texting me, I ended up as the go between relaying messages.

I wasn’t sure what he was more afraid of: getting mad at her again or forgiving her. I knew what I would do, but for Peter, who was raised with a strict moral code, forgiveness was the only option. Except he’d confided in me that he wasn’t sure he could.

Climbing into the van, I put the plastic bag on the floor and Peter started the engine. Turning on to the main road, he had to be careful not to hit any of the trick or treaters who were beginning to filter through the gates. Mr. Larsen gave out full-size chocolate bars on Halloween and that info had spread like wildfire through the new subdivision behind us. Most kids were willing to walk a fair bit—or to get their parents to drive them and drop them off—to trick or treat at a full-size house.

“What’s in the bag?” Peter asked.

“Two dozen birthday candles, a can of cream soda, a bag of glass marbles, gingerbread man cookies, and a picture of an oak leaf. It was supposed to be an actual leaf, but I couldn’t find one so Lacey said a picture would be fine. I had to go to the library and pull one out of a book.” I felt rather bad about it.

Peter’s pale eyebrows disappeared into the light fringe of his hair. “Really? Lacey and that teacher are going to conjure up some major mumbo jumbo and that’s what they need?”

“Yup.” I didn’t want to admit it, but I’d been wondering if Lacey had given me the list to waste my time out of spite. I couldn’t even imagine how any of it would be useful in banishing a ghost.

“What’s our cover story then?”

“Miko’s worked it out. She’s telling Tynan and Daley we’re having a sort of magic intervention for Lacey at Cailleach’s.”

“We’re going to her place?”

I shook my head. “Lacey said it was a neutral location that wouldn’t make Melusine suspicious.”

“Nice.” Peter grinned and I could feel his renewed tension through our bond. He was so tightly sprung now that he always seemed ready to explode into action. That terrible anger was gone, but I couldn’t lie to myself anymore that a Protector was a glorified bodyguard. A Protector was a warrior.

When we arrived at the mansion, I grabbed the bag and climbed into the middle row after a look from Peter. Miko slipped into the seat I’d vacated, but after a murmured greeting, they were silent.

I was surprised when Tynan got in the van and sat in the very back. Daley eased in beside me. Melusine floated into the empty spot beside Tynan with an acid look in my direction.

“So,” Peter said, “where are we going again?”

I checked the map on my phone. “Go north on Holt Road. Right before you get to Conlin, turn at King Lane.”

He nodded. “That’s not too far, maybe 5 minutes.”

I checked the clock on the dash: 5:45. By the time we turned on to Holt at 5:52, my stomach was wound tight around a knot of marigold and I was having serious second thoughts about the whole thing. The sun hadn’t fully set, but there were no streetlights and it was dark and eerie—particularly with a ghost in your car on All Hallow’s Eve.

Peter stopped the car and put it in park.

“What’s wrong?”

“What was the address again?”

“King Lane, corner of King and Holt.”

“That can’t be right. Holt ends here.”

I took off my seat belt to look over the dash. Peter was right—the road had come to an end and the headlights showed an overgrown path in front of us. I checked my phone again. “Holt’s supposed to go all the way to Conlin Road.”

“Well, it doesn’t.” He grabbed the phone. “Wait a sec while I check something.”

I glanced over at Daley. Melusine had her arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind and her claws had become translucent fingers again. The helpless longing of her pose and Daley’s constant caress of the necklace made me feel guilty, but also seriously creeped out.

And then Melusine’s eyes opened and there was so much menace in them that I couldn’t wait to exorcise her pretty little behind.

“Cool.” Peter said as he passed the phone back to me.

“What?”

“It’s a trap street.”

“What?” Tynan repeated from the back.

“A trap street.” Peter twisted around. “You’re kidding me, right? Do you guys seriously not know? A trap street is a street that doesn’t exist. Map makers put them in so if somebody copies their map, they can tell. I read about them online, but I never thought I’d find one.”

Peter was in geek heaven, but I wondered if this was another element of the spell. Names were important. Maybe magic flowed freer in a place that didn’t have a real name to bind it.

Daley was impatient. “We must have the wrong address. Somebody call Lacey.”

I checked the clock: 5:59. “There’s no service,” I lied as I put the phone in my pocket.

Tynan leaned forward. “There’s probably something up ahead we can’t see, maybe a private road. If Lacey’s got as deep into witchcraft as Rhi says, then we should at least try.”

“Ty’s right.” Miko pointed. Easy to miss in the darkness, Lacey’s car was parked just off the path.

Daley shrugged and the ghost hopped on his knee and nestled into him.

Peter pulled forward a few more feet and then put the van back into park. “I think we’re walking from here.”

As I got out, Miko linked her arm through mine and pulled me ahead of the others. Her skin was cold and clammy and I suppressed a shudder of revulsion as I shook her off.

Her face went blank. “He knows,” she hissed and I shivered again at the new sibilance in her voice.

“Daley?”

She shook her head. “Tynan. He was getting suspicious so I had to tell him everything.” She glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was close enough to hear. “He wasn’t surprised.”

“He remembers seeing Melusine?”

“I don’t know. He’s not happy though. The only thing that convinced him was telling him Melusine wants to hurt you and is getting strong enough to do it.” She wasn’t wrong. The long scratch on my forearm was proof.

The fairy looked scared. “And there’s something else. I heard Binnorie singing yesterday when I was in the hallway outside my room. I’ve never heard her sing on her own like that.” She hesitated. “I don’t want to tell you . . .”

“Miko . . .”

She sighed. “She was singing that the dragon was going to peel your skin off like a banana.”

My heart thumped in my chest and yellow alarm pulsed with it, but I ignored them both.  I checked my phone again: 6:02. The path ended at a small clearing with a picnic table off to one side. Lacey and Cailleach were waiting for us.

“Give me the bag,” Lacey demanded and I handed to her.

The others arrived and Peter put the camping lantern he was carrying on the table. The light illuminated a lit cigarette balancing on the edge and Melusine flitted over to it, gazing at it longingly.

“Melusine used to smoke in her room when Daley wasn’t home,” Miko said with wonder in her voice. “She knew he wouldn’t like it if he ever found out.”

“You can see her?”

Miko nodded. Melusine was getting stronger.

Cailleach’s eyes were black pits in her face. “Belief begets reality. The god of thunder’s belief in his love for the dragon girl has tethered her to this world, but it is your belief and desire for her which has brought her back to the brink of life.” The woman wasn’t looking at me or Daley with her unblinking, round eyes.

She was looking at Tynan.

“What’s she talking about?” Daley asked.

Tynan’s eyes were fixed on the ghost. “Melusine is with us. I can’t always see her, but I can feel her. She misses you. She misses me too. Sometimes I talk to her so she won’t be lonely.”

Daley tried to put his hands on his brother’s shoulders, but Tynan shook him off. “Ty, I know you cared for her—maybe more than you should have, but that’s OK. I wish it wasn’t true, but she’s gone. We have to accept it.”

Tynan’s face changed and his voice became darker. “Try telling that to Rhi.”

Daley frowned and looked at me. I pointed to where Melusine hovered around the cigarette. “Melusine is here. Her spirit is tied to her necklace, but she needs to move on. You can’t see her, but I can. You don’t know that she’s changing, becoming something more than just a ghost. Lacey and Cailleach offered to help us, but we were afraid that if we told you, you wouldn’t come.”

Sparks began to flicker around Daley’s head and thunder boomed in the distance. “You know what you should do, Rhiannon? You should mind your own damn business.”

Miko rushed forward. “It’s true. I can see her now too.”

A gasp to my left. “Holy crap!” Peter said, “So can I.”

“Me too,” Lacey said calmly.

Daley clenched his fists. “Why can’t I see her then?”

That’s a good question.

Cailleach advanced and Melusine moved away until she hovered between Tynan and Daley. “The collective power of our belief in the girl, aided by the Path close by, is making her more solid by the minute. What we have come to do, we must do quickly or we will have no control over her at all.”

I checked my phone again: 6:04.

I closed my eyes. Maybe the bond between Melusine and the necklace was keeping Daley from seeing her. Extending my senses, I found the spot of blazing aquamarine centered over Daley’s heart. Wisps crept from it and connected to his colors.

It was worth a shot. I opened my eyes and put out my hand. “If you want to see her, give me the necklace.” Thunder boomed, closer now, but after a brief hesitation, he slipped the necklace off and gave it to me. The wheel charm had been threaded onto the chain as well. I removed the jewel and then passed the chain and charm back to Daley.

What I’d once thought was a precious blue stone in silver was just white glass surrounded by silver-plated wire. Placing it on the picnic table, I smashed it with the base of the lantern, shattering the glass and twisting the metal.

“What are you doing?” Daley yelled and then stopped as he saw Melusine’s ghostly form for the first time. “Mel?”

Lacey laughed as she rummaged through the contents of the bag. “I meant regular candles, not birthday candles.” But she pulled them out, so I guessed they would do. Marking out the edges of a short walkway with the candles, she then made a circle with the marbles at the end of it. She lit the candles with the cigarette and took a long drag before snuffing it out.

Lacey smoking is almost as disturbing as standing five feet away from a ghost that wants to peel me like fruit.

Cailleach gestured and Lacey addressed us in the same voice she used to belt out show tunes. “At the setting of the sun, we embrace Samhain and the world stands on a knife edge between light and dark, life and death. Cailleach, the divine crone and great queen of winter, rises in her power and the door to the Otherworld opens. I pass through the candles for purification and the circle of stones is my protection from all hostile spirits.” Lacey promenaded through the candles and Cailleach watched as if she were judging her performance at a beauty pageant.

Lacey held up the picture of the oak leaf. “The veil is thin and like the druids of old, we summon immortality by the power of the sacred oak.” She burned the picture in the flame of the last candle. A thread of slate-grey flashed across my eyes and seemed to wind through my skull and down my spine. Talk of immortality didn’t sound like an exorcism. Yellow warning flickered on the edges of my sight.

Lacey scattered the ashes in the center of the circle and poured the can of soda on top. “Food and drink to appease the spirits who walk free this night. It would normally be milk or wine, but milk is too weak for this casting, and sending you to buy wine might have drawn too much attention. It doesn’t really matter; it’s the looks that count. Most spirits aren’t too smart. Sorry Melusine.” Lacey giggled and her pupils were dilated.

Melusine drifted away from Daley and wafted into the circle. As she brushed ghostly fingers at the liquid puddled on the ground, her claws returned and an impression of pearly scales rippled across her hands.

“What’s happening?” Daley whispered.

Tynan replied before I could. “Melusine is haunting you and we’re sending her on.”

Daley rounded on his brother. “What?” The thunder crashed closer this time.

“It’s what Rhi wanted.”

Daley grabbed me. I gasped as his nails dug into my skin and electricity followed. “What are you doing?”

“Melusine doesn’t belong here. We’re doing this to protect you!”

“Shut up!” Lacey’s voice was unnaturally amplified. “You’re interrupting my casting!”

Daley’s hair and face sparkled with electricity as he shook me. “What gives you the right? Who made you Melusine’s judge and executioner?”

“Daley, she’s already dead!”

“I won’t let you take her away from me again!” Daley’s fingers emitted electric shocks and I cried out in pain.

With a murmured incantation, Cailleach gestured and an invisible force pushed us away from one another. “Enough! This casting is bound by the circle of stones and none may disturb it. See.” She pointed. “The spirit is already caught.”

“Mel . . .,” Daley groaned. The ghost reached for him with claw-tipped fingers and then pulled back as she encountered an invisible barrier at the limit of the stones. Daley stared at her in desperation and a hot wind began to swirl between them. Tynan stood behind his brother with a sad expression on his face.

I felt as if someone had thrown cold water over my head. Had I truly believed Daley would thank me for ripping his dead girlfriend away from him? Was I really that stupid? Ugly honesty the color of dead worms smacked me in the face.

I’m doing this because I’m jealous of Melusine.

Miko touched my arm. “This doesn’t feel right. Make it stop.”

I looked at Peter and he shrugged. “Your call.” But I could feel his true emotions through our bond. Peter currently wasn’t very fond of supernatural exes and would be just as happy for me to send Melusine on her merry little way.

Despite my less than pure motives, I knew the ghost was a threat, but the colors of this magic were dark and reminded me of the Dobhar-chú. Cailleach watched me closely as I approached the stone circle. “Lacey, stop. I don’t want to go through with this.” She ignored me as she crushed the gingerbread men and scattered the fragments on the ground.

“Spice cake in the shape of the god of death to feed him as he returns to the underworld,” Lacey intoned.

“Stop!” I tried to cross the circle, but it was like hitting a brick wall. Falling hard on my back, the air was knocked out of my lungs and searing pain flashed into my head.

This has gone to hell.

I forced the pain away as Peter helped me to my feet. “This isn’t right. There’s got to be another way.” Lacey hesitated, but Cailleach gestured and she flinched.

“C’mon Lacey, we’re friends . . .”

“Friends! Are you kidding me? How could I be friends with someone who sneaks around in the shadows? I’ve always seen you for what you really are.” Her voice broke. “You took away the only guy I ever cared about. And do you want to know what the worst thing about that is?  Do you? You didn’t even want him! You were going to do the same thing to Melusine. You think you have power, but I have power now too. And wait till you see what Melusine’s really like once she’s reincarnated into her true form.” She smirked. “Actually, maybe you’d better skip that part. I have absolutely no idea why, but she doesn’t like you very much. Isn’t it funny how you have that effect on people?” Lacey’s face had hardened into an echo of Cailleach’s.

Dismissing me, Lacey put out her hand and Melusine raked a claw across it. Lacey winced and then made a fist. Drops of blood dripped on the ground.

Blood magic.

The strands of their hair rose and mingled together as the spell gained strength. Lacey began to chant and Cailleach joined her:

I am the wind on the sea.

I am the roar of the wave.

I am the bull of seven battles and the hawk upon the cliff.

I am dew and flower, fish and lake.

I am the mountain made flesh.

I am the word and the point of a weapon.

Fire bursts from my head and the moon is ordered by my will.

Return from Tethys’ kingdom, O beast of the sunset,

And receive my enchantment of wind and spear.

I wanted to hide from the mess I’d made—run and hide until the world was black and white and choices were easy—but I’d bungled everything in the worst way possible and I was going to have to somehow fix it. If Viviane’s frozen wall in my soul was keeping me from accessing real power, then it was time to bring all barriers down.

I descended through myself to that bruised and damaged place. Morgan’s spell had healed most of the wound, but the dark spot in the center still remained. Mom—Viviane—had built this wall in my mind to protect me from the power I was heir to—a power that was maybe too powerful for me to contain. I needed that power to make things right.

I wanted it too.

I believe fear is white and thickly veined with blue the color of the sea. I believe it is an icy edifice which keeps me from my true self.

But ice melts.

The wall was a symbol of everything that had been denied me. I could see power as color and there was enough crimson rage to call up a fire capable of destroying it. I brought Viviane’s wall down, damning all consequences. As the colors of her spell dissipated, a dark emptiness was revealed—the corruption that had been breaking through the barrier. I had a moment to register its full horror and then color poured through it from somewhere outside myself. I reached for the surface of my mind before I drowned in it.

I had done something terrible.

When I opened my eyes, flames of magic still danced on my palm. “Daley,” I whispered. He saw the flames in my hand and understood. Joining me, he gestured for Tynan to flank us, but Tynan had backed up to the edges of the clearing, slinking into the darkness like the figure in my dream. I turned back to the witches and their ghost. In response, Cailleach moved behind the circle, but Lacey and Melusine were oblivious.

“Lacey, I’m not kidding. You need to stop. Now!” I flicked my wrist and sent a tongue of flame out to test the boundary of the stones. It held. Lacey lifted her arms to the sky and Melusine’s ghostly form began to solidify into living flesh.

We were running out of time. I could sense Peter at my back, ready to fight. There was a ripping, flapping sound and I knew Miko had unfurled her new wings.

“Well done, little witch, but you need to go back to the kiddie table and let the grown-ups take it from here.” A woman in a white coat and gloves stepped into the clearing with someone unexpected in tow: Boudica.

“What are you doing?” Daley demanded, but Boudica ignored him.

Morgan glanced at the flames in my hands, but didn’t hesitate as she strolled up to the circle and faced Cailleach. Lacey and Melusine stood uncertainly between them.

“Well, Crone, I see you have found a new protégé. Have you not yet learned that they will only take what you have to give and then take their freedom?”

“As did you, my child.”

Morgan flinched. “I left my brother, not you. Do not blame me for choosing love.”

“You chose a human over the one who protected you from the time you and your sisters came into being. You chose the earth king and now you are bound to him and to your own ruin.” Cailleach sounded sad.

Morgan nodded at Boudica and the woman drew her sword. The sound it made as it left its sheath was like the hissing of snakes.

Cailleach was trapped, but she regarded Boudica with contempt. “I see you have found a she-dog to do your bidding. What did you offer her to take her from Taliesin? Beware, for this one will sniff after whoever holds the bone.”

“I know what you intend to do with this dragon in the making and I cannot let you give my brother so great an advantage. Do not make me choose between the love I bear you and that for my husband.”

Cailleach cocked her head and her round eyes blinked once. “If you were truly choosing love, then you would choose another. Abandon this foolish quest to wake the earth king. I bear a message from your brother. He will forgive all past trespasses if you make peace with the bard and live the rest of your long years with him. But be warned, Cernunnos will not allow you or Arthur to challenge his power again.”

Morgan sighed and her voice was soft and ragged. “As you say, I am bound and bound again. My fate is stretched upon an unstoppable wheel and I must follow it or be pulled under.”

“Then you will remain as Cernunnos made you,” Cailleach replied cryptically, “and will never be made whole.” She bowed her head. “Do what you must, my child.”

Morgan gestured and Boudica struck so fast that nothing earthly could have stopped her. Lacey screamed as the Crone’s head rolled into the circle, dark eyes open and staring.  The flames in my hands sputtered and died as I struggled to not be sick. Boudica smiled as she wiped the blood on her sword onto the grass.

Morgan turned away from the body on the ground. “Cernunnos corrupts all who cannot escape his influence. He sought to raise a dragon from the last of the bloodline of Melusine to use as a weapon against us. My brother wishes to dominate this world as he does his own; to cast us all into everlasting twilight. Arthur is the only one strong enough to hold against him. This is what Taliesin cannot accept. Can you not see that we must be united against the true evil?” Put that way, it sounded reasonable, but she said it looming over the severed head of a woman she loved.

So what does she do to people she’s just fond of?

Daley confronted her. “And what about those who won’t kiss Arthur’s boot? What about all the people in this world who just want to live their lives untouched by magic?”

“What of them? They are not your people. Would they fare better with the host of monsters my brother will send once he is ready to attack?”

Lightning sizzled in the air above Daley’s head as he pulled the charm off the chain and it became the Wheel of Taranis in his hands. “Arthur is a tyrant.”

If Morgan recognized the Wheel, it didn’t frighten her. “That’s Taliesin talking,” she sneered. “Arthur will bring order to the ranks of all magic users and then, with their help, to the world. He will bring peace and freedom to this world and to the Grey Lands, our true home.”

Tynan stepped out of the darkness. “Our father believes there can be a middle ground; a path between chaos and tyranny.”

Morgan shook her head in frustration. “Taliesin would . . .” And then her eyes widened. Striding over to Tynan, she murmured an incantation and a ball of light appeared in her hand. Holding it up to Tynan’s face, she looked at him with desperate eyes.

“My son!” Morgan le Fay cried.

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

I was wrong. This has gone so far past hell that I’m looking at hell in the rearview mirror.

“Did you know?” Morgan screamed as Boudica shook her head in confusion. “We leave now! Bring the boy and the dragon.”

Boudica gave a whistle and two horses burst into the clearing, one white and one black. I would have been trampled if Peter hadn’t pushed me out of the way. A stray hoof caught him in the leg and he fell.

Lacey stood in front of Melusine and began chanting, but Morgan gestured and the stones creating the magic circle flew apart. Boudica pushed Lacey out of the way and she hit the ground hard and lay still. Almost solid now, Melusine didn’t resist when Boudica heaved her up onto the black horse and then mounted behind her.

“Mel!” Daley cried, but she just smiled and leaned back against Boudica. Thunder boomed and a bolt of lightning flashed, but the horse dodged it easily. If Daley used the greater power of the Wheel, he might hit Melusine.

“Look!” Miko pointed. Tynan was on the white horse and Morgan was behind him. Putting her arms around his waist, she rested her cheek against his back.

I ran to them and grabbed the reins. “Ty, what are you doing?”

The wind whipped Tynan’s hair across his face and I couldn’t see his eyes. “I felt it was true when she said it. My soul knows it.” His voice darkened. “Taliesin always sent me away when she was coming, never let me be near her. He was hiding me. Morgan’s my mother. I have to go with her.” I gasped in pain as he tore the reins from my hands. He gestured and a grey gash ripped through reality. Beyond it I glimpsed twisted trees like the ones in my dream—a dream of travelling on a Path. Morgan’s horse jumped through the portal and Boudica’s followed.

I ran after them. Miko screamed something through the rising storm of Daley’s fury, but I ignored her. Throwing myself through the opening, I whimpered in pain as I skidded across the ground and had to stop myself with my raw hands. I was just getting to my feet when Daley hit me from behind. We lay there for a moment, entwined in ways that felt intimate, before he pulled away. Standing, he brushed his hands off on his jeans as if their contact with my body had soiled them. I stumbled to my feet and hoped my burning cheeks would cool before he noticed.

“Where are they?” Daley’s voice was swallowed in the thick silence of the Path. The air felt dead and resistant to speech and movement.

“I don’t know. They should be right here.” Without a Guide to change it into something more familiar, the Path took its true form. The ground beneath our feet was too smooth and uniform. The twisted trees were bare, but dense and impossible to see through, and they curved above our heads and blocked the sky. It was like being in a grey tunnel. I was reminded of what Morgan said about Cernunnos casting the world into everlasting twilight.

“We need to find Tynan. He’s our only hope of getting out of here.”

White fear made it difficult to think. The Paths were deadly to those without the talent to travel them. “Why did you follow me?” I whispered.

The flashes of lightning in Daley’s eyes were the brightest things on the Path, but the expression on his face was unreadable. “We need to get Melusine and Ty back.”

There was no sign of the portal we’d come through. “I can’t hear the horses.”

Daley took a couple of hesitant steps. “The sound is strange here. They could be just ahead and we might not even realize it.”

“I’m going to try something.” Closing my eyes, I extended my awareness along the Path and was rewarded almost immediately. Without Viviane’s frozen barrier blocking the way, I was filled with fresh color. I still had almost no idea what to do with any of it, but I could sense the powers of those around me more easily. Morgan was a rainbow of fireflies dancing across a silver lake. I could tell she was too powerful for me to challenge. I tried Tynan, but his colors were even more chaotic. Clashing hues chased one another so fast that I couldn’t focus on any of them.

I moved on. Melusine was a surprise. I expected fire now that she was in her dragon form, but she was still aquamarine, sea-foam, and iridescence. A pale rope the color of bone surrounded her and disappeared into a far darkness. I shuddered. The dragon might be rising, but Death hadn’t relinquished its claim on the girl.

Running out of options, I found Boudica. In my mind, I could see the aura of her power as a fierce gold fouled by blackness.

I opened my eyes. “They’re just ahead.” I didn’t wait for Daley as I began running down the winding Path, but I knew he was following. The trees made it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead. Without warning, the Path took a sharp turn and we skidded to a stop in front of an immense form.

Melusine had completed her transformation.

The dragon’s head was long and tapered, and while it somehow kept something of the girl, it was also completely inhuman. Its serpentine body was covered in scales of mother of pearl and four powerful legs were tipped by luminous claws. The creature’s wings were small and obviously not useful for flight. In fact, they almost looked like gills. Tynan and the others had to be somewhere behind her, but Melusine towered over us and blocked the way.

“Mel!” Daley cried. “You don’t have to do this. Come back with me.”

I heard the dragon’s answer in my mind, and by the shocked look on Daley’s face, so did he. “Why would I want to do that? You have no idea of the power I now command. Death and the witch have freed it in me. I have become Otohime, the luminous jewel, and I will take my rightful place among the gods.”

“Please, Mel. I love you.”

The dragon’s sinuous neck extended until the creature’s snout was inches from Daley’s face. Its mouth gaped open and translucent fangs dripping with venom were exposed.

“Melusine,” he whispered.

“Our love was just a little thing.”  The dragon sounded amused. “It pleased me to have you. Tynan too.” There was no sound, but the dragon’s movement gave the impression it was laughing. “Do you begrudge your brother a few kisses, a few sweet embraces when your back was turned?”  Daley’s face darkened but there was no thunder on the Path. “Don’t be sad. You served the purpose all men are made for, and quite well, I might add. I would have stayed with you if death and glory hadn’t come calling, but your place in my story is finished and it’s time for you to go. Say goodnight, my love.”

All the light and electricity that belonged uniquely to Daley seemed to dim and grow cold. Closing his eyes, he bowed his head.

I could tell that Melusine was preparing to lunge. Pushing past Daley, I sank my hands into the scales around her neck, shuddering as my fingers dug through them like the scales on a fish. The dragon reared, but I held on, feet dangling a few inches off the ground. I didn’t need to close my eyes to find her colors. Ignoring the chill of Death’s pale rope, I closed my fingers around her aura and the soft, wet scales oozed through my fingers. Filling my hands with aquamarine and iridescence, I pulled. Melusine howled as skin and power was ripped from her. I landed on my feet with a thud.

I had a moment of triumph, but her power slipped through my fingers like water. Shaking my fingers clean of iridescent slime, I backed away as the dragon advanced, snarling and huffing. I looked to Daley for help, but he’d slumped to the ground and either didn’t realize or didn’t care I was in imminent danger of being shredded. Using Viviane’s spell to create a blue veil, I threw it at the beast, but it slid off and dissipated. Melusine was more powerful than a spell spun from moisture and mist and her mouth widened into a parody of a smile.

I needed more power. If I couldn’t find it inside myself, I would have to get it somewhere else.

I didn’t dare close my eyes, but I could sense Boudica somewhere ahead on the Path. Tynan and Morgan seemed to have disappeared, but I fought back grey despair and concentrated on the woman. Boudica was a queen. Despite the darkness surrounding it, the gold of her aura told me she had the power of command and the ability to bend others to her will.

I can use that.

Melusine’s neck lifted up like a snake ready to strike and I knew it was now or never. Darting to the side, I slipped around her, but my heart stopped for a moment as I felt the displacement of air as the dragon’s teeth snapped together behind me. I’d only barely avoided having my head chomped off.

Melusine’s struggle to turn her enormous body around on the narrow corridor gave me a head start. Two turns of the Path and I found Boudica running her hands across her horse’s neck, murmuring calming words. She’d been left back to babysit the dragon, but the horse seemed to have other ideas and was pulling on the reigns, eyes rolling. Distracted by her efforts to control her mount, she was unaware of my arrival until I barreled into her and knocked her to the ground. As she let go of the reigns, the horse panicked and ran off.

Now that I was touching her—straddling actually—I could feel the gold of Boudica’s power emanating from the thick choker at her neck; it was the symbol of Celtic royalty and she’d unconsciously centered her entire being on it. Before she could catch her breath and push me off, I grasped the two ends where they met in the middle of her throat and pulled. There was a small resistance, and then the choker broke apart and her color flowed into me.

There was probably a moment when I could have stopped—a brief moment when I knew that I was taking too much—but I let it pass. Filled with a pleasure so visceral, so transcendent, I took her power. And when that was gone, I took her very essence, even the darkness. Throbbing with color, I tossed the broken choker aside and stood. I wasn’t even aware of Boudica as I stepped over her to face the dragon. Melusine had stopped and was watching me as if she was curious as to what I had done, but I wasn’t interested in her anymore either.

It was Death I needed to talk to.

I didn’t stop to think of how impossible it was to do what I was doing. Filled with so much power, I felt like I could order the stars to dance. Instead, I closed my eyes and commanded Death to take Melusine.

And Death obeyed.

Melusine screamed—a sound that pulsed between the roar of a dragon and the pitiful cry of a woman who died too young. As death’s pale rope tightened and pulled her into the black abyss, I joined my scream with hers. Pleasure had twisted and erupted into flames which licked the inside of my skull. I fell, but strong arms caught me and held me tight.

“There you go, mo leanabh, I’ve got you.”

I knew that voice. “Redcap? What are you doing here?”

His breath was soft against my ear. “What I always do, Rhiannon; come at the call of a Great One’s death.”

There was a sensation of movement I couldn’t make sense of and then cold grass brushed my cheek as Redcap eased me down onto the ground. I opened my eyes as he brushed the hair back from my forehead, but even that light touch brought fresh agony.

Taliesin’s face swam into view. “Is she injured?”

“I’m not sure. I can’t see a wound.”

A wail shook the trees and they whipped and waved in response as it began to rain. I turned my head and forced myself to focus through the pain. At first, I couldn’t understand what I was looking at. Rowan was holding something in his arms and rocking it back and forth. I blinked and white horror surrounded it.

It was Boudica, beautiful and cold, eyes wide and staring.

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

I pieced the details together of how I got there as I lay in the hospital bed. I remembered Rowan refusing to be parted from his wife’s body. I remembered him ripping the cross from his neck and throwing it into the grass before Taliesin and Daley restrained him.

I remembered the screaming.

Now that the pain was dulled by a drug being dripped into my veins, I realized I was the one who’d been screaming. I also remembered Daley calling me a vampire, but I knew that wasn’t what I was. I was something worse. Boudica was a queen. That gold lined with darkness was her very soul.

And I’d yanked every bit of it out.

Peter stayed by my side until the drugs kicked in. He had a nasty gash on his leg that had to be stitched—Morgan’s horses must have been supernatural to have the power to injure him—but I could feel through our bond that he was already healing. He told me how Miko had called Taliesin and the bard had contacted Robin Goodfellow. They’d arrived via another Path shortly after Daley and I disappeared. How Redcap appeared was part of his own particular mystery.

When Peter’s parents came to take him home, I pretended to fall asleep so they would all go and leave me alone. When the room was quiet, I surrendered to indigo. The drugs weren’t the only thing restraining me, but I couldn’t blame Taliesin.

I woke up the next morning when someone tapped me gently on the shoulder. It was the doctor on call. Pushing myself up in the bed, I pulled the blanket around my flimsy hospital gown. My stomach sank as I realized it was the same doctor I’d seen at the walk-in clinic—the one whose yellow aura showed how worried he was about my headaches.

“Hello, Miss Lynne. Do you remember me?”

“Dr. Calder,” I said to prove I did.

“You were supposed to come back and see me.”

I shrugged. “I was fine so I didn’t think I needed to.”

He raised an eyebrow as he checked my chart. “And yet it says here you were brought in screaming in pain and had to be put under heavy sedation to calm you down.”

“My headache got bad last night, but I’ve been handling it.”

He held up the chart. “Clearly you haven’t. I’m going to arrange for you to have some tests.”

“What kind of tests?”

“We’ll do a neurological exam to check your hearing, vision, balance, and reflexes, and then an MRI to get a look at what’s going on in your head.” After a few reassuring platitudes, the kind doctor who oozed yellow concern left to continue his rounds.

I sank back into the pillows and tried not to think about the corruption in my mind. Morgan and I had tried to heal it, but clearly we’d failed. The pain must mean that what I’d done to Boudica had made it worse. I knew something now, something terrible.

Mom hadn’t made the barrier to protect me. She’d made it to protect everyone else. And I’d destroyed it.

Rhiannon, hide in the shadows and be still and silent.

I didn’t need to close my eyes anymore to conjure the veil of blue mist. It was tattered and torn, but I knew I could repair it and make it stronger than Viviane ever could. It was only a spell—a product of thought and imagination—but I could feel it as it settled on my skin. I touched my face as it molded against me like fine silk, cool and smooth. I could sweep it over myself and disappear into the shadows forever. I could hide from what I’d done.

A tremor ran through the mist and I strained to hold it. Taliesin’s indigo was trying to stop me from accessing power, but with the barrier in my mind gone, I was stronger. Concentrating, I saw something I’d missed before. The texture of Viviane’s spell was different from Taliesin’s, but the color was just a lighter version of the same. I laughed, but it was an ugly, broken sound.

I’ve been bound in blue my whole life.

A blast of anger like a desert wind passed over me and dazzling shades of scarlet and crimson erupted from my hands. They flowed through me from some source outside myself—I didn’t know where and I didn’t care. The flames burned through Taliesin’s indigo and evaporated Viviane’s shadowed mist.

And then I struggled for air as magic fire consumed the oxygen in the room.

Panicking, I commanded the flames to recede, but they ignored me. I’d lost control the same way I did with Boudica. The flames flickering across my skin didn’t burn, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t suffocate. I started to lose consciousness.

No. Not again.

I forced my mind down to Viviane’s barrier, but instead of an icy edifice, there was only a dark tunnel leading to some unknown place. Color rushed through it towards me.

A shift and my perception changed. I was floating in a lake of color and bright drops of rain pelted me. Each one carried a message, but as the rain beat harder, the lake churned and I began to drown.

Another change as my mind struggled to comprehend the reality of what was inside me. I was suspended in a night sky and the multi-colored sparks in it were stars. Floating through space, I plucked a golden orb from the darkness, but the stars whirled around me and threatened to crush me into dust.

I was back at the tunnel. The shades of red were gone, exhausted in the flames that had filled the hospital room. Gold swirled around me now and tentacles of ebony reached through it. This was what I’d taken from Boudica. Gathering all my strength, I ejected her colors from my mind. Tweaking and combining Viviane’s and Taliesin’s spells, I closed off the pathway with a veil of indigo.

At least this time it’s my choice.

I opened my eyes and gasped; the flames were gone, but the oxygen in the room was thin. Pulling the I.V. out of my hand, I staggered to the window and forced it open until cold air rushed in and I could breathe normally again.

Once I was able to teeter over to the bathroom and get dressed, I made my escape. I called a taxi once I made it to the hospital entrance. When it dropped me off at Peter’s house and Mrs. Larsen opened the door, I threw myself into her arms.

She patted my back and brought me into the kitchen where Peter was eating breakfast. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “Why didn’t you call us to come get you?”

“It was just as fast to catch a taxi. I must have knocked my head again, but they did some tests and said I could go home.”

Mrs. Larsen clucked her tongue. “It’s always dangerous driving on Halloween. I’m just glad you kids weren’t killed. I hope they throw the book at that driver. Imagine drinking and driving on a night when all those children are wandering around!”

I glanced at Peter and he gave a slight nod—car accident was our cover story.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “it’s lucky we were in Daley’s Yukon. The van would have been totaled.” I was glad Peter hadn’t had to trash his mom’s minivan to sell the lie.

“Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get you something to eat.”

I shook my head. “That’s OK. I just wanted to let you know I was home. I’m going straight to bed.”

“Well, call if you need anything.”

I agreed and Peter hopped after me to see me out. Closing the front door, he walked to the porch stairs and sat down; he was pretending for his parents’ sake that he didn’t heal unnaturally fast.

“You really scared me. I could feel you screaming right here.” He tapped on his temple. “I thought my head was going to split open.”

I sat down beside him. “Welcome to the club. I’m fine now though. I’ve got it under control.” I sighed and slumped over my knees. “I messed up.”

Peter draped his arm over my shoulders. “We messed up. And maybe we didn’t even do that. Melusine wanted to kill you—Miko told me—and Lacey and Boudica betrayed us. You tried to rescue Ty and Boudica got in the way.” His voice hardened. “That’s what happens in war.”

“How are Daley and Rowan?” I was afraid of the answer.

“They’re hurting. Rowan’s out of it. Taliesin and Goodfellow saw enough to guess what happened when they pulled you out of the Path. Melusine attacked and Boudica got caught in the crossfire, and then Morgan escaped with Tynan. Is that about it?’

“Yeah.” I didn’t add that I’d ripped Boudica’s life and magic away to give myself the power to defeat Melusine.

“Rowan won’t accept that Boudica was a traitor. Miko says he’s locked himself in his room with her body and won’t come out.”

Bile burned the back of my throat. “What do we do now?”

Peter pulled up his pant leg and picked out a couple of stitches. The skin around them was already smooth and perfect. “Taliesin wants me over there tomorrow. Should I put him off?”

No more hiding. “No. Besides, Morgan has Tynan and we have to figure out how to get him back.”

“She called him her son. What does that even mean?”

I didn’t have an answer and after a quick hug, I went home and did what I should have done in the first place.

I went to work.

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

A crackle of accusatory thunder woke me up. I got out of bed and opened the blinds, but I knew what I would find—clear blue sky. This was Daley’s thunder.

Dressing in jeans and a t-shirt, I swept my hair into a tight ponytail and searched in my closet for the largest bag I could find. It was easy now that most of my clothes were littered all over the floor and I found one from my gym days in middle grade. Pulling Excalibur out of my underwear drawer, I dropped it in.

I’d spent the rest of the previous day researching all the Arthurian lore I could find online. A lot of it was confusing and contradictory, but I felt better prepared to face Taliesin. I picked up Peter in front of his house and instead of going to school, we drove to Taliesin’s rented mansion.

As we parked, I grabbed Peter’s hand and squeezed it hard once. “Follow my lead.” He nodded. Hefting the bag over my shoulder and marching up to the front door, I opened it and walked inside. I’d been treating the place like home for weeks, so why stop now?

“Taliesin!” I yelled.

After a few seconds, the bard appeared at the top of the stairs. “Miss Lynne,” he acknowledged, “I am glad to see you are recovered, but now is not the best of times for you to be here. I would ask that you go home until I send for you.”

“I don’t think so, Tal.” He scowled at my tone but didn’t respond.

A small pink and black projectile ran down the hall and hit me with a fierce hug. “Hey, Miko,” I responded as I disengaged myself.

She backed away at the coolness in my voice. “I was worried about you. I’ve never heard anyone scream like that before.” She looked at Peter as if asking for permission to go to him. He gave her a small smile, but something in his face must have told her to stay put. The fairy wrapped her arms around herself and I could see the tears in her eyes. She didn’t seem to understand that Peter might accept what she’d done, but it was going to take him some time to forgive it.

I felt the pull of his electricity before he even arrived, but as Daley entered the foyer, I ignored him and focused on Taliesin as he descended the staircase.

“How long have you known?” I demanded.

“Known what, Miss Lynne?”

“How long have you known that Tynan is really Mordred?”

Miko gasped. “Then it’s true? Tynan is Morgan and Arthur’s son?”

I nodded. “Not just their son. Mordred is the one who betrayed Arthur and put Excalibur through his heart. He’s the reason Arthur is sleeping. Am I right?”

Taliesin did something I would never have expected—he sank to the bottom step and sat there looking old and crumpled. “Yes, Viviane gave Excalibur to Mordred. Whether for Cernunnos who had deceived the boy, or for herself, I do not know. I can only guess that her purpose for you is to continue her work of vengeance.”

Daley stared at Taliesin as if he didn’t recognize him. “And what about Ty?”

“I have not known, not for sure.” The bard rubbed his eyes. “But I had begun to fear it. The destruction of Excalibur broke Mordred’s mind and he was never seen again, but he was known to be a master of the Paths. Tynan thinks I do not know, but his ability to sense them first aroused my suspicions. There were stories of a Path that led through time, but I thought they were fantasies. Due to my estrangement from Arthur, I had never seen Mordred, even as a baby. I doubted it could be possible, but still, I never risked Morgana seeing him. She is bound to Arthur even at the expense of a son.”

“What about Boudica?” I asked. “Did you know about her?”

“I swear I did not. Rowan refuses to believe it, but I saw and heard enough to know she betrayed us.”

I faltered in my righteous anger. “I didn’t mean to kill her. It was an accident.”

Daley barked a laugh and his hair crackled with sparks. “Didn’t you? Isn’t that what your kind does? Leanan sidhe, succubus, whatever you are—you take what doesn’t belong to you. At least the mystery of Rhiannon Lynne is solved at the expense of two lives.”

“Maybe it’s true. Maybe that’s what I am. But I didn’t do it on purpose. I had to stop the dragon.”

And people die in battle all the time.

I pushed the thought away, but my own coldness shocked me. “The Melusine you loved was gone. You knew what she’d become and yet you bowed your head and practically asked her to bite it off.”

“Daley!” Miko gasped.

Thunder boomed, but I couldn’t stop. “Maybe the girl Melusine loved you once, but the dragon Melusine wanted to kill you. I wasn’t going to let that happen. I couldn’t.” Something flickered in Daley’s eyes, but he turned away.

“Is Melusine truly gone?” Taliesin asked.

I forced my attention back to the bard. “I think so. She was bound to Death and I told it to take her.”

Taliesin stared at me, but I didn’t explain. He didn’t need to know all my secrets. Standing, he declared, “You are fearsome indeed, Miss Lynne, to command Death itself.”

Peter stepped forward. “So we’re agreed it’s a huge mess, right? What are we going to do about it? How are we going to get Ty back from Morgan?”

“What can we do?” I was shocked at the sound of the bard’s voice; rough and broken, its power and beauty were gone. “He is her son. She has more right to him than I, though I doubt she can love him after what he did to his father. Tynan is lost to us.”

“Wrong answer,” I murmured. “We’re getting Ty back.”

“How? Morgana will never trust me again and she is more powerful than you can imagine.”

“I have something she’s going to want more than a son.” I upended the bag and dumped its contents onto the floor with a crash of metal on marble. The remains of Excalibur gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the windows.

Taliesin fell to his knees, touching the twisted gold and silver with reverence. “Can this be what I think it is?”

“Take it and make a trade with Morgan. What can she do with a hunk of useless metal anyway?” The bard didn’t move. “Take it,” I insisted.

“He can’t, kiddo.” Rowan shambled down the stairs, reeking of alcohol.

Fear is white and thickly veined with sea-blue.

The druid gave a low whistle. “Well aren’t you just full of surprises. Who would have thought you had Excalibur hidden in your handbag?” The others looked at me in shock as they caught on and Rowan laughed wildly. “That’s right, this hunk of junk is the greatest earth totem ever created. Says something about us, doesn’t it? Excalibur has latched on to our dear little Miss Lynne here. I think it knows we aren’t really her friends—that we aren’t exactly on the same side. Don’t believe me? I’ll prove it to you.” Rowan kicked at the metal hard enough to break a toe, but Excalibur didn’t move. I flinched for him, but the druid was beyond physical pain.

“Where did you find it?” Taliesin whispered.

I shook my head. “I didn’t find it. My mom . . .” I paused and corrected myself, “Viviane left instructions for Goodfellow to get it from where she’d hidden it and then to give it to me.”

Miko poked at the metal with a black-nailed finger. “How could he lift it then?” With horror, I realized she wasn’t wearing nail polish anymore—her fingernails were actually black.

Taliesin touched her shoulder and she backed away. “If Viviane intended it for Rhiannon, then the agent of its journey would be given the ability to complete that mission. Viviane was the Lady of the Lake and Excalibur’s first master.”

“Can Morgan use it?” I asked.

Taliesin hesitated before answering. “I don’t know. Perhaps. Her powers are older than any earth totem. She might be able to break its will.”

“Then she’ll want it bad.”

The bard rubbed his face and I saw he hadn’t shaved. “If Arthur is awakened, Excalibur could be used to defeat us! How can we give our enemy the key to our destruction?”

“We don’t know what might happen in the future, but we do know that Tynan needs us right now! You’ve said yourself he isn’t safe with Morgan. Call her, Taliesin.”

“Make the call, Tal,” Rowan said over his shoulder as he shuffled back up the stairs. We watched him leave in silence. We knew what his steps were taking him back to.

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

Taliesin arranged the exchange. Rowan was finally persuaded to let his wife’s body go and Boudica was to be cremated at sunrise in the woods at the back of the property. Morgan would meet us there.

Time crawled by. Rowan spent the day preparing the area in the tradition of the druids—he’d left his Christianity back in the clearing with the cross he ripped from his neck. The other men retreated to the garage to fashion a rough coffin. Miko and I had nothing useful to do, so we watched TV and listened to music. None of it distracted me enough, but I didn’t want to go home. I fell asleep around midnight, but a nightmare of an avenging queen riding a ghostly dragon woke me up before dawn.

After a long shower, I dressed in the clothes I’d brought with me: black skirt, black boots, black sweater. Miko and I waited at the bottom of the stairs for the men to carry the coffin down. Rowan shambled behind it, but he seemed sober. I expected him to accuse me or tell me to go, but his eyes slid past me as if he’d never seen me before. As we passed through the yard and into the woods, Goodfellow was waiting for us in the shadow of the trees. Rowan looked at him in confusion.

We entered a clearing where a pyre of wood was surrounded by leaves and herbs scattered on the ground. Tynan and Morgan stepped out of the trees to meet us, but Tynan’s head was down and his hair hid his face. Shrouded in a velvet cape, Morgan was finally dressed the way I would have expected Arthur’s consort to dress. The men laid the coffin down on the pyre and backed away as Taliesin and Morgan shared a long and meaningful look.

“Let’s get this over with,” she said coldly.

He gestured to the coffin. “For Rowan’s sake, let us first lay Boudica to rest.”

Morgan shook her head. “The woman’s soul has gone from this world and has nothing to do with me now.” Her voice caught. “It is you who has broken my heart. I have always accepted that you will fight me in the end, but I never believed you would deceive me. You hid my son from me! What was once between us is finished.”

Taliesin’s face was stricken, but he bowed his head and gestured for me to come forward. I’d wrapped Excalibur in one of Mom’s long scarves and Morgan gasped as I loosened the material to show her.

“So it is true! Viviane had it all along.”

“Take it,” I said. “It belongs to me and I’m giving it to you.” Morgan put out her hands and I placed Excalibur in them.

She exhaled. “I was not sure I would have the strength to hold it. Even now, its weight is almost unbearable. But you have given it to me freely and it accepts me grudgingly. Once Excalibur is in its true master’s hands, it will burn bright again.”

I ignored her and held out my hand to Tynan.  “C’mon Ty, let’s go.”

He turned to Morgan and whimpered, “Mother?” He sounded like a little boy.

The woman’s face was unreadable. “See, my son. Your friends are here.”

“I have no friends.” Tynan slapped my hand away so hard I stumbled and fell against the coffin.

It slid off the pyre as if it had no weight at all.

“What mischief is this?” Morgan cried and then whispered an incantation. With terrible strength, she pulled off the lid and threw it aside.

The coffin was empty.

Everyone froze except Rowan. He was wandering around the clearing as if he’d lost something.

“That’s impossible!” Daley said. “We put Boudica in the box ourselves just minutes ago. We carried her here. I felt the weight.”

There was yelling and arguing, but I was watching Rowan. He was touching the grass and trees with frantic fingers. “Tal.”

“Where is she?” Morgan screamed.

“Tal!” Rowan shouted.

But the bard was focused on the woman he loved. “Morgana, I swear to you, I do not know.”

“Taliesin! Listen to me!” The trees swayed and bowed at the druid’s command. “This is the wrong place!”

Goodfellow stepped into the clearing and understanding sent white shivers across my vision.

The Green Man can make a Path look like whatever he wants.

Goodfellow raised his arms and the trees around us were replaced by stone walls stretching up into darkness. We were in some kind of cave. Lanterns hanging from iron hooks illuminated a crumbling archway and a stone sarcophagus with a man’s figure carved on the lid.

Everything seemed to happen at once, captured in images stacked on top of one another like pages in a book.

Boudica raising her sword, her armor shining gold in the torch light.

Miko flying at her on black wings and being batted aside like a dark butterfly.

Morgan facing the Icenian queen with Excalibur in her hand.

Rowan falling to his knees.

Taliesin reaching for Morgan.

Tynan using his power to throw Taliesin against the cave wall.

Peter cradling Miko to his chest.

Tynan embracing the carved image on the lid of the sarcophagus.

Heart pounding, I forced myself to focus on the two women facing one another. Boudica was muscular and the sword in her hand was deadly, but Morgan was taller, and even in its ruined state, Excalibur was infinitely more dangerous.

Rowan lifted his arms to his wife. “Bo!” he cried. “You came back to me!”

Boudica sauntered over and gave him a vicious backhand that drove him to the ground. When he moaned, she kicked him in the head until he lay still. “Weakling,” she muttered. Rubbing her knuckles, the woman turned to me. “Thank you for releasing me from your mind, or wherever it was you put me. I was aware of myself, but couldn’t feel my body, and it took me a while to figure out what happened. I was getting a little worried my ‘death’ might become permanent. You and the Redcap have a lot in common, but at least he waits till his victims are dead before stealing their souls. Still, it all worked out pretty well. Things were getting ugly between you and Melusine and I was happy I didn’t have to risk my ass over that little bitch.”

I stared at her. “But you were dead. They put you in a coffin.”

Boudica shrugged. “I’ve been working with Morgan for a while, but only to get intel.” I glanced at Taliesin sprawled near the wall and she laughed. “Not for that self-righteous dick.” She smirked at Morgana. “Sorry, Morgana, but you know he is.” When Morgan didn’t respond, Boudica shrugged again and turned back to me. “Your father says hello, by the way.”

I flinched as she pressed her finger against my temple. Eyes glittering, she lifted her sword in warning and I froze. “Cernunnos has special insight into what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours—practically insider knowledge.” She flicked me hard with her finger and laughed when I gasped. “When he realized what you did, he preserved my body until my soul was free.  Goodfellow controls what enters a Path and where it goes. Rowan had no idea he’d conveniently prepared my crematorium at the mouth of one. Morgan wanted Excalibur and the boy. She thought Goodfellow was with her, but he belongs to us. When she revealed the destination, he scooted my body ahead of you all. I really do need to thank you. I’ve been trying to find Arthur’s tomb for years without tipping her off. I was almost ready to give up.”

“Why?” Morgan’s voice was so quiet, I could barely hear her.

Boudica whirled around. “How can you, of all people, even ask that? I was a queen! I ruled before Arthur sucked at his mother’s teat. Why should I bend my knee to an upstart king or the rogue bard who spurned him? Cernunnos promised me my kingdom and look where we are—in Arthur’s tomb with Excalibur ripe and ready for the picking.” She glanced over her shoulder. “So, thanks again, Rhi. I’m actually quite sorry I sent the Dobhar-chú after you, but the little witch insisted and your father wanted to see what you would do.”

Red rage smeared across my sight, but I forced myself to smile. “So what did dear old Dad ask in return then, Bo? To prance around in a French maid’s costume and bring him his slippers?” It was a random shot, but when she scowled, I knew I’d hit the bull’s-eye.

Morgan’s laughter echoed off the stone walls. “Really, Boudica? You would endure my brother’s cold hands and the certainty of death when he tires of you for a petty kingdom?”

Boudica swung her sword lazily as she walked towards Arthur’s stone coffin. I recognized the action from when I’d watched her training—she was getting ready to attack. “Oh Morgan, it’s almost sweet how naïve you are. Cernunnos didn’t offer me a spit of land in the middle of the sea. He’s giving me the entire world. The only price is Arthur’s head.”

Lightning ricocheted through the cave and struck the woman, throwing her across the floor. Daley emerged from the shadows holding the Taranis wheel.

Boudica wiped a trickle of blood from her mouth as she stood. Her armor wasn’t even singed. “That was a mistake, godling.”

Daley shrugged. “I may not want Morgan to wake Arthur, but I’m not going to let you murder him in his sleep.”

“Hit her again!” I screamed.

Movement caught my eye. Morgan had joined Tynan and they stood together looking at Arthur’s effigy.

Boudica sneered at Daley. “I’ll deal with you later, boy.” She approached Morgan cautiously with her sword raised.

I ran to Daley. “Why did you stop?”

He lifted the wheel. “It needs to recharge and I’m too far underground to harness any of the elements. It doesn’t matter though. That’s sidhe armor she’s wearing.  Its magic protects her.”

Boudica pointed her sword at Morgan. “Witch, I have a message from your brother.” When she opened her mouth wide, a voice from another world came out of it. The effect was obscene.

“Dear sister, you stand on the edge of the knife. Forsake the earth king and all will be forgiven. Advance, and there will be no mercy, no peace. I will hound you through the eras of your immortality until you go mad and beg for death. I will not warn you again.”

The voice scraped away at the barrier between my mind and pain. Morgan didn’t even look up as she whispered something and gestured at Boudica. The woman was flung across the cavern like a doll and disappeared into the darkness behind us.

I looked back at the tableau of mother and son, finally reunited. For the first time since I met him, Tynan seemed peaceful and happy. “My son,” Morgan whispered, tears streaming down her face as she pulled him close and kissed him on the cheek.

Tynan jerked strangely. He looked down at his mother and opened his mouth, but no sound came out. As Morgan pulled away, I saw the jagged length of Excalibur jutting out from under his ribs.

When Tynan fell, I did too. I thought I heard Daley yell, but it was cut off abruptly. Crawling on all fours to where Tynan lay pumping out blood and life, I screamed for help, but everyone was frozen.

“What have you done?”

Morgan stared at me as if I should understand. “I could not risk them interfering. They will be fine. They are only caught momentarily out of time.” The pupils of her eyes were dilated and the irises were almost colorless.

“Not them! Tynan! Your son!”

“You mean Mordred,” she corrected absently as she bent down and drew Excalibur out of his body like a knife out of butter. Bright blood was on the metal and she used it to draw on the chest of the effigy. “Four circles for the four elements: air, fire, water, earth. When I draw the fifth at the center, I will bind them with the all-encompassing illumination that commands them.” She focused on me again and frowned. “You can’t think that any of this is what I wanted. If I had met Taliesin first, so many things would have been different. I was a creature finally freed and Arthur was my salvation. I swore unbreakable oaths to him and was caged again, but I was happy to live in a cage forged by Arthur. I made my bargain freely and never guessed I would live to regret it.” She looked at the bard where he lay crumpled on the ground. “Will you tell Taliesin? Will you tell him I regret it?” she asked plaintively.

I wasn’t interested in Morgan’s pain. I pressed my hands to Tynan’s wound to stop the blood, but it flowed fast between my fingers.

Morgan sighed. “Let him rest. My son’s death was ordained from the moment he raised Excalibur against his father. The son shed the blood of the father, and the father must be raised by the blood of the son. This was the missing spell I have been searching for all these years. I told you once that blood magic is the most powerful magic of all—even my brother is bound by it. Though I was compelled to search, I hoped Excalibur was lost and my son, wherever he was, would be safe.”

Her voice hardened. “Viviane’s scheming has brought us here.” She turned away. “Leave him be. My son is mad. It is better that he pass this way.”

She was right—Tynan was damaged—but he was also a boy who had wanted to kiss me and had told me the meaning of my name. Closing my eyes, I searched for the bright green of my bond with Peter. We belonged to each other in a way that was more powerful than blood. I took my hands off Tynan’s wound and concentrated. When I opened my eyes, a fine net of peridot green covered the blood on my palms.

With his blood on my skin, I could see Tynan’s colors, wild and chaotic, and drifting away. I was running out of time. Panicking, I placed my hands on his chest. As my spell sank into his body, I imagined the power of this bond encircling his soul. If he belonged to me—if his blood belonged to me—it couldn’t be used to wake Arthur. I could deny the power of blood magic.

But I was too late. Morgan drew the last circle before I could bind Tynan and claim him as mine.  Throwing Excalibur away as if she couldn’t bear to touch it anymore, she cried out:

“I see in the rocky peaks far away, the place of death;

A rough mountain with a misty summit.

Come down from it and launch your ships on the Fomorian ocean,

Thou son of Uther Pendragon!”

The sword had skittered towards me across the ground. Before I could reach it for it, there was a booming sound and chunks of stone flew through the air—the sarcophagus had shattered. I was thrown backwards, small fragments nicking my arms, but something soft broke my fall.

It was Rowan. Or at least, his body. His head had been severed in one clean cut.

As I scuttled back in white horror, I heard soft laughter coming from the gloom beyond the torch light. “Now I am truly my mother’s daughter, the last of the sidhe.”

While the druid was caught out of time by Morgan’s spell, Boudica must have been out of range and had escaped it to complete her betrayal. I could sense her aura. There was still gold in her, but it was now completely overshadowed by darkness. I took a step towards it, but then it winked out. Cursing Goodfellow under my breath, I knew she was gone

There was a cry and I turned to discover that time was moving again. Peter was helping Miko up. Daley had been hit by some of the debris and was bleeding from a cut on his forehead, but otherwise looked all right. Taliesin stirred and I knew he wasn’t dead.

Morgan le Fay stood at the side of a man in the middle of the rubble. Tall and muscular, his black hair and neat beard framed a handsome face and eyes gleaming with warmth and intelligence.

Looking upon Arthur in the flesh for the first time, I knew Taliesin was wrong—the Earth King was the savior of the world, not the enslaver. When he laughed with joy and embraced Morgan, joy filled me too. I wanted to bow to him, my once and future king, and beg him to accept me as his. I put out my hands towards him and was surprised to see they were covered in blood. Tynan’s blood. Arthur’s son lay forgotten on the ground and my heart was my own again.

A sense of dark teal like the shadows on the forest floor caught my attention; Goodfellow was still nearby. I was relieved. Even though he’d betrayed us and had helped Boudica escape, we were going to need him.

Closing my eyes, I searched for the auras of my friends using their strongest colors to find them. Taliesin was bronze like a trumpet. Miko was bright pink, but inky black branched through it like veins. I could easily find Peter through our peridot-green bond. Daley was the deep blue-grey of stormy seas, the platinum of rain clouds, and the red-orange of lightning. Cutting through them was a pale, pure gold.

Excalibur.

CHAPTER FORTY

The sword called to me, but it lay on the ground not far from Arthur and I didn’t dare draw his attention to it. The Earth King released Morgan and looked around in surprise. “How long have I slept, my love? And where are we? This is not the chamber at Camelot.”

Morgan’s eyes darted away. “No, my lord.”

Frowning, he peered into the gloom. “Who are these fallen? Is that Taliesin?” I froze as his gaze passed over me, but if he saw me, he dismissed me as no threat. I began to creep towards the sword.

“No, Arthur.”

Arthur’s face was tender, but his voice was steel. “Why are you lying to me, Morgana?”

“I . . .,” she faltered, “I don’t want you to hurt him.”

With a laugh, Arthur pulled her close again. “For one so fierce, you have a tender heart. I would never harm Taliesin. He was a brother to me once and may still see reason and join us. But why is he here? What are we doing in this cave?” Arthur noticed Rowan’s body and his smile slipped away. “And is that not Taliesin’s pet druid? What happened in this place?”

“What do you remember?”

His face darkened. “I remember my son attacking me with my own sword.” I froze in case the mention of Excalibur reminded Morgan that it was still there, just out of reach.

“Let us go,” she said as she laid her head on his chest. “There is so much I need to explain and this place holds only sorrow.”

But Morgan had not forgotten the way into my mind.

“Take it! Quickly! I cannot fight the oaths I have made for long. In a moment, I will be forced to tell Arthur who you are and that Excalibur is here. Understand that I am bound and could not even choose my own son over him. You are my brother’s child and heir to his power. Only you have the hope of standing against them both. Remake Excalibur and free me, free us all. If you don’t, both our worlds will be consumed in the flames of war.”

If I could hear her, then she could hear me. “I will kill you for what you did to Tynan.”

“My son is not dead yet. Look.”

She was right. Tynan’s aura was a swarm of multi-colored sparks dancing towards the same darkness Melusine had been tethered to, but he was still alive.

I had to do something fast. Calling up every shred of the power of the spell Viviane had hidden me with, I screamed the familiar words. “Listen to me! We cannot be seen! Hide in the shadows and be still and silent!”

“What mischief is this? Where did they go?” Arthur roared.

The spell had worked. We were invisible to him.

Pushing Morgan away, he began to pace the room like a lion in a cage. As he passed within a few feet of Excalibur, I knew I couldn’t guarantee Viviane’s spell would hold at close range.

I lunged for the sword. “Everyone! To me!”

Daley was the first to understand. He slung Tynan over his shoulder. Taliesin had regained consciousness and Peter helped him to his feet. Miko was shaky on her feet but moving. I ran for the back of the cave where the Green Man was hiding in the shadows and the others followed. Glancing back, I was shocked to see Arthur following. He might not be able to see us, but somehow he could sense us. Morgan watched and did nothing.

“Goodfellow, get us out of here!”

There was a feeling of pressure—as if my ears had popped—and then I stumbled and fell. Rolling onto my back, my hands still clasped around Excalibur, I looked up at grey branches which hid the sky. We were on another Path. Depending on the Green Man was a gamble, but we were safe.

Goodfellow leaned down and offered me his hand, but I ignored it. “Why?” I demanded as I stood.

He dropped his hand. “I swore my own oaths to Arthur. I thought he would save the forest from the destruction of Man, but he only wanted control over the Paths. Still, as long as he lives, my oaths hold. When Morgan told me to take you to Arthur’s tomb, I couldn’t deny her, but I swear I didn’t know what she intended to do. I gave you Excalibur in good faith, as Viviane asked me to. I didn’t know the boy was the lock and Excalibur the key to raising the Earth King.”

Ice washed over me as I realized I was the one who had offered to exchange Tynan for Excalibur. I was the one who had set events in motion.

I freed Arthur.

“If you belong to Arthur, why did you help Boudica double-cross us both?”

Goodfellow’s eyes were no longer green, but grey with tears. “With Arthur sleeping, I thought I could gain the Lord of the Grey Land’s favor. I hoped he would have the power to free me from my oaths.” The Green Man straightened his shoulders and regained some of his strength. “I care nothing for the petty conflicts of men and magicians. I seek only to be free.”

I looked at the others.  All of them except Peter were bruised and bloodied. Daley kneeled on the ground with Tynan in his arms.

“Just get us home.”

“One moment, Robin Goodfellow.”

White shivers pulsed through me, but I turned to face Arthur. I’d forgotten he could travel the Paths.

The Earth King strode towards us, but gasped when he saw Tynan. “My son?”

“That’s close enough,” Daley warned and I heard thunder somewhere far away; we must be near an exit off the Path.

“My son is injured! He needs my help!”

As Arthur’s plea tore at my heart, I saw him and I understood. We were all filled with paradoxes and inconsistencies, strengths and weaknesses, powers and disabilities—so many colors. Not Arthur. Arthur was pure. He was amethyst and not a single speck contaminated that magnificent, royal hue. His great power was a singleness of being and purpose that promised he could force even destiny to his will.

My soul cried out to accept him as my lord, but Tynan’s blood on Excalibur held me firm. Still, I understood Morgan and Goodfellow better.

I bet Hitler was that same damn color.

Lifting Excalibur, I stepped forward and pointed it at Arthur. Even though it was blood-stained and twisted, Arthur’s face changed and I knew he recognized it. He looked into my eyes and I knew he saw me too.

No one will ever make the mistake of not seeing me again.

“Who are you?” And what are you doing with my sword?”

The metal was heavy and my arm shook, but my voice was steady. “Who I am doesn’t matter right now. What I’m going to do to Excalibur does.” Actually, I had no idea what I could possibly do to Excalibur, but the flick of the king’s eyes towards the twisted trees off the Path gave me a hint. I raised Excalibur as if I meant to throw it and Arthur lurched towards it.

“Stop! I’ll give Excalibur to the trees. You could try going after it, but I don’t think you’d ever find your way back to the Path again.”

Arthur folded his arms across his chest. “There are some in my time who would cut off your hands for daring to touch a king’s sword—even the ruin of it—but it is not my time, is it.” It wasn’t a question and he didn’t wait for me to reply. “Morgana would spare me the truth, but now that I am fully awake, I can feel it for myself. The earth has changed. I am its king and I know its nature. Time has flowed out like wine from a broken bottle while I slept.”

“At least you’re taking it well.” Excalibur’s weight was almost unbearable and beads of sweat slid down my back.

Taliesin approached and bent his head. “Arthur.”

“Bard,” Arthur greeted him. “Let me see my son.”

Taliesin hesitated and then nodded. Scowling but obedient, Daley carried Tynan to Arthur.

The king frowned as he examined the wound. “What did this terrible damage?”

He was asking Taliesin, but I waved the sword to get his attention. “What do you think?”

Arthur ignored me as he touched Tynan’s face with a gentle finger. “Ah, blood magic. I understand. My son tried to kill me, but he has paid the price for his betrayal and erased his dishonor with his blood.” He straightened with a sigh. “Sleep deep, my son.” He glanced at me. “You can put Excalibur down. You are weary and I have no interest in it at the moment. Though I would not have it destroyed or lost, it no longer has the power to aid me.”

I hated that he could see my weakness, but I put the sword down with relief and flexed my aching arm. Arthur chose that moment to take what he wanted.

Not Excalibur.

Me.

CHAPTER FORTY ONE

My brain went blank the way it does when you dive into cold water and it took me a moment to realize Arthur had grabbed me and somehow moved us to another Path. I braced for an attack, but he released me and walked away. “Keep up. We have only minutes before the Green Man finds us.”

When I didn’t move, he returned and arched an eyebrow at me. “Despite Taliesin’s presence, you seem to be the power behind the forces opposing me. Do you not want to know the truth?”

I haven’t had the truth since the day my birth mother dumped me with Viviane.

He seemed to read my hunger for the truth in my face. “Yes, I thought so.”

“I need to get back to the others.”

“You are worried about my son,” he guessed, “but Mordred is as good as dead. I have seen many wounds on the battlefield and his is mortal. I promise you though, time passes strangely on the Paths and you will see my son before the end.” With a courtly gesture, he invited me to precede him.

I shook my head. “Forget it. I don’t trust you.”

He flushed as if I’d hurt him, but then he chuckled and I felt my own cheeks grow warm. “How strange this time must be that you do not recognize the honor I was according you. However, it is indeed easier to converse walking side by side.”

I looked up at him; he was even taller than Tynan. “And why would you honor me?”

Arthur laughed again. “My long sleep may have rendered my mind dull, but I am beginning to recover. Though it fills me with great surprise, I recognize in your features the echo of my former mentor’s. I called him Merlin. You are kin to him in some fashion.”

“You could say that. I’m his daughter.”

Arthur stopped dead in his tracks. “Why, the old dog . . .” He immediately sobered. “My memories are addled and out of order. I am forgetting the true identity of my false friend.”

“It’s OK. I’ve never even met him.”

We began walking again. “You are royal and I accede you honor again. Who is your lady mother?”

“I don’t know. Viviane raised me.”

Arthur was silent for a moment. “The Lady of the Lake betrayed me and became my enemy.”

I shrugged. “Maybe she had her reasons. It doesn’t matter now. She’s dead.”

The king shook his head. “What a strange tale you hint at, but Morgana will tell it just as well. I have not brought you to the Path of Time to waste it.”

“Time?”

“As I examined the body of my son, I saw that he has aged only a few years. Mordred knew the Paths almost as well as Goodfellow and his kin. He must have come this way, though I do not know how he managed it. Other than Goodfellow and myself, I know of just one other who could travel the Path of Time. Her name was Guinevere, but she would not help my son.” Arthur didn’t know his story was known throughout the world and that I knew the name of his wife.

“This Path seems the same as the other one.”

“If you have the gift for it, you can feel the subtle differences.” He gestured for me to hurry. “Quick, I sense the Green Man has found our trail and there is something you need to see.”

Arthur’s strides were almost twice as long as mine and I was almost running to keep up with him when he came to an abrupt stop. “We are here.” The Path divided and passed under two archways made from the entwined branches of the trees. Beyond them both, light flickered.

Arthur pointed to the right. “Mordred must have traveled that way and into your time. Can you feel it? I have tried to pass its gate before, but have always been denied.”

“His name is Tynan now.” I took a step forward, heart pounding. I recognized this place.

“Another name for another existence.” He sighed. “I wish I could have left him to it, truly I do, but my son has followed his fate to its inevitable conclusion. Follow me.” Arthur passed under the arch on the left, and as I followed him, the light changed without warning.

An unfamiliar world lay before me. To say it was grey would be like saying the ocean was blue—right and wrong at the same time. It was grey, but it was also gleaming silver, flashing chrome, glittering obsidian, and soft dove. Shadowed hills rolled under a stormy sky and fleeting shades of rose, powder, and moth-wing green faded in and out of the scene like mirages. It was all so very beautiful.

And so very, very wrong.

“The Grey Lands,” I whispered.

“Yes. Though this is the Path of Time, for me it will only show this one scene. You are looking upon the place as I first did when I was brought here by the man I knew as Merlin.” Arthur stretched his hand out and the scene wavered and resisted. “I was completely enchanted. We called it Avalon for the pale pink apples that grew in the orchards and thought it was an island because of the ring of mist surrounding it. And then we thought it was the underworld when we began to sense the taint of evil hidden in its heart. Can you feel it?”

I swallowed. “Yes.” It was like a pale flower growing out of a rotting corpse.

Arthur nodded. “Good. Not everyone can, not at first. I freed Morgana, but there are thousands more who languish here and I cannot abandon them.”

I reminded myself that Tynan was dying and turned away from the bewitching scene. “Maybe they don’t want to be freed.”

“It does not matter what they want. I will do what is best for them. That is what a king must do.”

Did it ever matter to Viviane what I wanted? Did it matter to Taliesin? What about the mother who gave me up to them?

Arthur was right about the Grey Lands—they were rotten at the core. Maybe someone did need to do something about it, but not this amethyst fanatic. I wasn’t going to let him decide the fate of both my worlds.

Because I knew I belonged to the Grey Lands the moment I saw them.

“I’m going to stop you,” I muttered.

Arthur turned. “So you are his then? Your father’s?”

“I don’t belong to anyone.”

He dismissed me with a wave of his hand. “Each of us is bound to something or someone.”

“I’m going to stop you,” I repeated, louder this time.

Arthur laughed, shaking his head. “I am sorry for my rudeness, but you are a child. Not even Morgana can stand against me and there is no one more powerful save her brother. I am the Earth King. I will defeat Cernunnos, and then through blood and marriage, this world and Avalon are mine. But since you value choice, I will honor the nobility of your blood by offering you one: join me or die.”

There was movement behind me. I cocked my head to the side as if considering. “Thanks for the great offer, but I’ll pass. Oh, and I’d be careful who you say you’re married to. Basically everyone knows you already have a wife.”

Arthur was fast, but I was faster. I blinked to center myself and fire fuelled by anger leapt from my hands and flared between us. The last thing I saw before Goodfellow grabbed me was Arthur’s astonished face and the reflection of flame in his eyes.

CHAPTER FORTY TWO

“That was cutting it a bit close.” The others were gone, but Excalibur lay where I’d dropped it. I picked it up and was surprised at how much lighter it felt, as if it had been struggling against the pull of Arthur’s power too.

Goodfellow ignored my sarcasm. “I need to close the Path off from the other end before he follows us here. This Path has multiple branches, and with any luck, he won’t know which one we took.” He glanced back at me. “I’m sorry for my part in everything, Miss Lynne.”

I didn’t answer because it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was getting to Tynan in time.  The Green Man gestured for me to walk forward and without any transition I stepped into the clearing in the woods behind the mansion. I looked back but Goodfellow was gone.

I ran into the house and the sound of voices led me to the study. Tynan lay on the couch and Daley kneeled beside him, holding his hand. Taliesin hovered over them. Peter and Miko stood by with helpless looks on their faces.

Tynan’s face was just like Mom’s right before she died.

Daley looked up at Taliesin and his eyes were frantic. “Do something!”

“I can try a binding. If his powers are bound, perhaps his spirit will follow.” The bard went still and then his shoulders sagged. “It is too late. I cannot find him.”

I put Excalibur down on the desk. “Let me try.” The bard hesitated and then nodded.

Someone had bandaged Tynan’s wound but it was messy and loose. A pain went through me.

Rowan would have done it right. He would have put ointment on the wound and spoke words over it and Tynan would already be getting better.

Fluorescent yellow panic blinded me for a moment, but I took a deep breath and calmed myself. I‘d claimed Tynan in that cave, body and soul. If I couldn’t find him, no one could.

I placed my hand on the bandage and blood seeped through it and stained my palm. Shivering with revulsion, I closed my eyes and discovered that Taliesin was right—Tynan’s splintered colors shivered in a dance of chaos along a pale rope leading to darkness. A green thread still connected us, but it was pulled tight and looked ready to snap.

Blood magic is the greatest magic of all.

“What?” I opened my eyes and looked around, but everyone stared back blankly. The voice was in my mind.

Blood magic is the greatest magic of all.

It wasn’t Morgan’s voice, even though she’d said the same thing to me. It wasn’t Viviane’s either. I had a brief vision of grey, twisted trees and I knew—it was the voice of the woman who had given me away.

“Peter, get me Excalibur.” Because I wished it, the sword let him pick it up. Taking it from him, I made a small nick in my palm and my blood joined Tynan’s. Excalibur flared gold and then went back to its silent, sleeping state. I lifted my hand, but Taliesin grabbed my wrist. I looked up at him in surprise.

“The gods know I love this boy as if he were the son of my body, but think about what you are intending to do! Blood magic is old, dark magic. Only the greatest among us can wield it, and if you have not noticed, the greatest among us are beings capable of monstrous acts. Arthur was felled by it—held in deathless sleep for centuries—then raised up to unnatural life. Each time it is used, there is a price. Eventually there must be a balancing and an accounting.”

I hesitated. “He’ll die if I don’t do something.”

A jolt of angry electricity ran through me and thunder shook the windows. “Then do it!” Daley commanded.

I pulled away from the bard and slammed my hand down onto Tynan’s chest.

I must have closed my eyes again because it was dark. Even my sense of his aura was gone. All I could feel was the blood seeping from the cut in my hand and the pulse in my wrist pounding. Louder and louder it pounded—Tynan’s had joined it. As the blood spread out from my splayed fingers and mingled with Tynan’s, I realized I hadn’t closed my eyes at all. Blood was all I could see.

Taliesin’s voice pierced me. “For one such as you who sees power, emotion, and thought as color, what does the essence of life look like?”

He was right to ask. Blood was life. Blood was everything—every color that ever was or ever will be. I shook my head; I was too far past speech to explain.

My awareness of Tynan’s aura returned, but the green bond between us was too weak to hold him back from Death much longer. I thought I’d claimed him back in the cave, but I was wrong. That was why Morgan’s spell defeated me then and Death was defeating me now.

Blood magic is the greatest magic of all. More powerful even than Death.

I concentrated on the blood flowing from my hand and sent it into Tynan’s body, forcing the molecules in my blood to meld with his until we were one. Looking into his body from the inside, I was horrified. Tynan’s heart was a torn, pulpy mass. As I watched, it faltered to a stop and I knew it would never beat on its own again. As his heart died, I did the only thing I could do.

I gave him mine.

A surge swept through me more painful than anything I’d ever experienced as all the colors stranded behind the barrier in my mind emptied out of me in a great rush. I felt my back arch in a terrible spasm and then Peter’s hands on my shoulders holding me down. Waves of hot and cold flowed across my fingers as color erupted from them. The power of my blood could save Tynan, but only if I survived too, and I wasn’t sure the pain wouldn’t kill me. My heart beat so hard I was afraid it was going to burst.

It was beating for two.

Tynan’s life returned to him like sparks over charred and almost cold wood, but it wasn’t enough. The trickle of blood from my hand wasn’t enough. How much more could I give and still be the anchor he needed? I pushed down the fluorescent hues of panic. I could do this, but I needed more power. I needed the power of a god.

“Help me, Daley.”

I felt him hesitate, but then Peter’s hands were gone and Daley’s replaced them on my shoulders. For a moment it was like being tasered, but then I was filled with thunder, lightning, and storm-painted seas. If he ever mastered all these abilities, he would be as powerful as Morgan le Fay. His platinum was the power to control the wind and I took just enough of it to sweep as much of Tynan’s spirit as I could find into his body.

I could do anything while Daley was touching me.

The only color left in me was a trace of Taliesin’s indigo binding. It still lingered in the house and had seeped past the barrier in my mind. I used it to bind Tynan inside his own body.

My heart slowed to its normal pace, but the sound was off, as if a second beat followed the first an infinitesimal amount of time later. I thought of an old song I’d heard on the radio once.

Two hearts beat as one.

Taliesin’s whisper made me open my eyes, but I couldn’t look at him. “You are now bound closer than brother and sister, or parent and child. You will never be free of him until he dies. And he will die the moment you do.” I wasn’t sure how he knew, but I knew he was right.

I didn’t wait for Tynan to wake up. I didn’t want to be there when they told him about Rowan. I didn’t want to be there when they told him his mother had killed him. Grabbing Excalibur, I left. Peter’s concern followed me through our bond, but I ignored it.

Trudging down the driveway, I was surprised to see Thomas Redcap standing at the end of it, frowning. He wasn’t wearing his cap and without its constant shadow, his face was soft and young.

He smiled in greeting. “It’s good to see you alive and, well, alive after all that has happened, mo leanabh.”

“I’m not even going to ask how you know about that. And I’m not your child, Thomas.”

He examined me closely. “No, I suppose you’re not, Love. Not anymore.” His smile turned rakish and his accent thickened. “But that can be a good thing now, can’t it?”

My cheeks went hot. “What are you doing here?”

“I haven’t the faintest. The death of a Great One called me, but now upon my arrival, I find that all here are living souls.”

“Not all of us,” I whispered as I thought of Rowan’s body lost and forgotten in some distant cave.

Redcap sighed. “Ah yes, the druid. A good man by all accounts, but I do not come for the likes of him. I felt the son of Arthur die.”

“Yes, he died,” I said. “But then I made him live again.”

Redcap’s hand darted out to claim mine. Lifting my fingers to his lips, he bit one lightly.

“What are you doing?”  I asked breathlessly, but I didn’t move my fingers away from where they rested on his bottom lip, one of them bloodied.

He turned my hand over and kissed my palm on the small wound on my hand. I breathed in quickly when I felt his tongue flick at the blood covering it. Golden eyes rimmed in red gazed at me in wonder. “You are a goddess, love. Forgive me, for I couldn’t help but try to take a part of you for myself.”

Pulling away, I stumbled and dropped Excalibur. It hit the pavement with a dull clank.

I’ve really got to stop dropping this thing.

Redcap bent to pick it up, but his eyes widened as the rough metal refused to budge. He burst into laughter and the sound was sunshine and apples and warm blood.

“I understand everything now,” Thomas Redcap said.

CHAPTER FORTY THREE

Whatever it was that Redcap understood, he didn’t share it on the trip up to the lake. He was in a good mood though and enjoying the burger he’d asked me to drive through and get for him. I glanced over at him as he was finishing; he was a neat and fastidious eater.

I shivered as it reminded me of what else he delicately harvested and ate.

Pushing the thought away, I asked Redcap where his car was and why didn’t he drive himself if he was so keen, but he laughed again and turned up the volume on the heavy metal station he was forcing me to listen to.

Arthur’s awake and preparing to conquer the world and I’m transporting a bloodthirsty Greylander with bad taste in music to cottage country. In the off-season!

I could feel the heat of Redcap’s gaze on me as if he couldn’t stop looking at me. The nick on my finger and the wound on my hand burned.

When we arrived at the lake, Redcap was out of the car and almost down the hill as if he couldn’t wait for whatever it was he was expecting to happen next. “Grab a blanket if you’ve got one, Love,” he called over his shoulder, “and bring the sword.” When I caught up with him, he was already sitting on the dock with his eyes half closed against the weak sun. I did a quick check of the drowned trees before stepping back as far from the water as I could.

“Sit down, Rhiannon.” There was something in his voice that made my heart beat faster, but then I felt the echo of Tynan’s follow it and ice washed over me. “She’s down there, yes.”

L’Inconnue de la Seine.

Placing Excalibur in the center of the dock, I sat down and pulled the blanket over my knees. “Why are we here?”

In a sudden movement, Redcap pulled me back against his chest, grazing my temple with his rough cheek and wrapping his arms around me. “You’re cold,” he explained.

I held myself stiff for a moment and then relaxed. Redcap would keep me safe from L’Inconnue.

“Do you remember the day we met here?” His breath was warm. “You were a child then. A dangerous child I thought, but beautiful. Now you’re a woman and I’m in awe.” His lips brushed my ear and my colors swirled in confusion.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

“Only what you want me to and nothing more,” he answered and nipped my ear with his sharp teeth.

“Stop!” I scrambled away from him and grabbed Excalibur.

We stared at one another. He was dangerous—I’d always known that—but I’d been drawn to him too. It didn’t matter though. I wasn’t ready for what he was offering me.

Redcap sighed and looked away. “I’m sorry, mo leanabh,” he said rubbing at the shadow of his beard, “I shouldn’t have done that. It’s just you remind me so much of one I lost long ago.”

Something blocked the sun. “Touch my daughter like that again, Redcap, and you will lose something else.”

The Lady of the Lake stood on the water with her cloud of dark hair rising in the wind.

“Mom!” I jumped to my feet, torn between amazement and embarrassment. “Morgan said it was possible, but I didn’t believe it.” Despite all my anger and disappointment, I wanted to touch her, but she was out of reach.

Viviane smiled. “You did well, Rhiannon. I had lost all power, all weight in this conflict over the fate of two worlds. But the moon wanes and dies only to be reborn again, and the tide recedes and then returns. I knew the Redcap would come at my death and consume my spirit and then you would spread my ashes here as I instructed.”

Redcap stood and gave her a little bow, but winked at me as he straightened. He wasn’t the least bit embarrassed. “I didn’t know why I was drawn to this place. And then I met you here and you were attacked by L’Inconnue. She wasn’t trying to kill you; she was trying to get us both into the water. The raw power inside you was the spark that lit the flame of the spell and Viviane left me when I jumped in to save you.”

“It was some time before my spirit and my body were rejoined, and still not perfectly.” Viviane gestured down at herself and I could see the lake through her flowing gown and white limbs. “Perhaps I will never leave this place until the true death of my kind claims me, but I have regained the power to do what must be done.”

Moisture ran over my lips and I realized I was crying. Viviane cocked her head at me as if my tears puzzled her. “Do not cry for me, Rhiannon, for I am content. I was one of three sisters, but of us all, I had the least of love within me. It seems to me now that we were each incomplete in some way, but I cannot puzzle out the mystery of it. Much that I was and knew is lost forever. Still, what love I had, I gave to you. Being your mother for a time has given me that gift and I am grateful, but I must now give you a gift which one day you may curse me for.”

Redcap motioned for me to approach. “Excalibur returns to the Lady of the Lake,” he proclaimed.

I picked up the shaft of lumpy metal and reached out over the water to give it to her. Taking its weight easily, Viviane examined it. “I am glad the Green Man kept our bargain, but it is difficult to again see the totem in this state. In the depths of the sea, I formed Excalibur from metal that fell from the sky, but I did not give it life. That task fell to another. Yet I knew its destiny was to save us from my brother’s dominion. I believed Arthur was Excalibur’s ordained master, but he disappointed me.”

“He’s awake,” I said.

She smiled sadly. “I know. I felt it. I felt your peril. And yet, here you are.”

“Morgan let me go.”

Viviane gazed into the sky as if she could see her sister there. “Do not judge Morgana too harshly; she fights her fate as best she can. Love is Morgana’s downfall, and yet she has had more of joy with both Arthur and Taliesin than I have had in all my days.”

Without warning, Viviane sank into the lake. I tried to look for her in the depths, but the water was strangely opaque. Redcap and I waited in awkward silence and the arm he draped around my shoulders for warmth was now light and impersonal. Finally she emerged, the water streaming from her hair and a magnificent sword in her hand. She offered me the hilt, but I hesitated.

“Take it,” Redcap urged me. “Take it before she fades.” He was right—Viviane was now transparent. I took the sword and then with the other hand she passed me a jeweled scabbard. Excalibur glittered in the dying light, but I felt nothing from it, not even a hint of the gold I’d sensed before.

She seemed to read my mind. “Yes, Excalibur has been remade, but it must still be quickened. You must temper it in the fire at the heart of the world and then you must find your true mother to guide you in how to use it. I go now to regain my strength. Do not come back here again until the end.” She began to fade.

“Wait! What does that mean?” The only mother I’d ever known was leaving me. It hurt worse than the first time because I knew it was her choice, that it had always been her choice.

“Go in peace and remember that as I was able, I loved you.” Viviane disappeared into the water.

“Wait!” I yelled as Redcap restrained me from diving in after her.

“Stop!” He shook me hard to get my attention. “Look!”

Where Viviane had disappeared, another figure surfaced, pale and menacing—L’Inconnue de la Seine. The creature had changed. Her hair now flowed over her white shoulders and the ghastly smile had relaxed. Through a splash of bright horror, I saw that her eyes were open and alive.

Redcap pulled me away from the edge. “Viviane has a new daughter now, and she will not let you disturb her mother’s rest. We’d best leave before she remembers she once walked on land.” We backed away and the creature watched us with gleaming eyes until we were off the dock before she slipped back down into the lake.

I sheathed Excalibur and followed Redcap to the car where he got into the driver’s seat without asking and began to drive. The heavy weight of the sword lay across my legs while anger simmered inside me and burned away my tears.

“Why couldn’t she tell me? Why couldn’t she give me what I needed, just once? I don’t care if she’s the damn Lady of the Lake! She owes me more than that.”

Redcap gave me a concerned look. “I wasn’t lying when I told Morgan that things were missing from Viviane’s essence. I now believe she used her power to excise certain memories. She no longer has the answers you seek, Rhiannon.”

“But why?”

He shrugged. “To protect you in case Cernunnos ever found her, I suspect.”

“Does it make me a bad person that I don’t care about that right now?”

He sighed. “No, love, it just makes you very young and there’s no shame in that.”

And there it was, the elephant sitting in the front seat between us.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about Redcap. He’d saved my life and I was drawn to him, but he was a monster. Closing my eyes, I leaned my head against the cool glass of the window. The colors of regret filled me, but I wasn’t sure if they were mine or his.

I woke up when we pulled up in front of my house and Redcap muttered, “I’ll see you in safely.” As we went inside, I noticed that either Redcap wasn’t enough of a monster for the holly to keep him out, or the plant was somehow sentient enough to know he was with me.

He looked around and frowned. “Viviane lived here?” He seemed surprised and my cheeks went hot.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t seem like her, that’s all. This is cozy though.” He seemed to be picking his words carefully.

By “cozy” he means cramped, old, and ugly.

Anger swept through me, but there was no color left to call up fire with. “That’s just great! I get the second class mother and the second class house. And I suppose you’re my second class stalker. Pervert actually. What are you? A thousand years old? More? It’s gross. Or maybe you’re just a second class monster since you don’t even have the guts to eat the corpses you collect. And now I’m stuck with this second class sword! What am I supposed to do with it? Use it as a big, stupid letter opener?” I threw Excalibur on the couch.

Without warning, I was pushed hard against the wall; Redcap had me pinned. One hand held my wrists above my head and the other trailed across my cheek. I winced as his sharp fingernail pierced my skin.

“The Great Ones are always cruel. Never doubt that you stand first class among them, mo leanabh. But better an honest monster than one who hides behind a pretty face.”

As I stared into his gold and red eyes, I had an impulse to apologize, but the sting of the scratch on my cheek stopped me. There was a low growl as Seolan came out of the bedroom. He was no match for Redcap, but the look in the man’s eyes told me we weren’t in any real danger.

I was the one who had hurt him.

Redcap released me and walked away, his back straight and stiff. He opened the door and hesitated, but didn’t turn. “May the next time I see you be at the moment of your death, Great One,” he whispered, pulling the door closed behind him with a soft click.

CHAPTER FORTY FOUR

I sat down on the couch and tried not to cry. I knew I’d acted like a brat. Confused, Seolan paced nervously and then jumped on the couch beside me. When he put his head on my knee, I stroked his soft head and felt a little better.

I looked around with new eyes; the place really was shabby. Worse than that, it didn’t feel like home anymore. Home was with the people I cared about, and with the exception of Seolan, they were all back at the mansion. Even Peter continued to train there—in fact, had thrown himself deeper into it than ever—though things between him and Miko were strained and uncertain.

I gave the hound a quick hug and then pushed him off to go pack some clothes. I left Excalibur on the couch where I’d thrown it. Maybe Taliesin would know what I was supposed to do with it, but for the moment, I wanted to get as far away from it as possible.

Seolan followed me outside to the car. I thought about taking him with me, but he nudged my hand and ran off into the darkness. The hound came and went as he pleased and I hadn’t even had to feed him yet. I suspected his second home was the main barn and he was either stealing food from Old Tom’s dog, or Tom had taken him in as a stray.

The windows of the mansion were dark when I pulled into the driveway. Taliesin had given me my own key and I slipped it in the lock and opened the door. I could sense Peter and Tynan through our separate bonds. Tynan was sleeping. Peter was in the gym even though it was late. He didn’t seem to care anymore if his parents were worried about where he was at night.

I sighed. He was right. We were changing. Maybe too much.

Hoping I wouldn’t run into Taliesin, I went up the stairs and knocked on Daley’s door. He opened it with a surprised look on his face and then pulled me into the room.

“Where’d you go? Tynan’s been asking for you.”

“I’m sorry. How is he?”

Daley sat down on the bed, running his fingers through his hair. “Confused. He says he doesn’t remember anything.”

I sat down beside him. “Do you believe him?”

“I don’t know. I can’t wrap my mind around any of it.”

Even with the lights off, there was still light in the room—the Wheel of Taranis in its larger state was hanging from a hook on the wall and glowing with stored power. Daley followed my gaze. “Viviane wanted you to find the charm, but did she expect you to give it to me? I wonder if she’s laughing at us from wherever goddesses go when they die.”

For some reason, I was reluctant to tell him about what had happened up at the lake. “Do you still think I’m a leanan sidhe or some sort of vampire?”

He scrubbed at his face with his hands. “Whatever you are, you need to come with us and fall into rank with Taliesin. We’re at war now.”

It wasn’t what I wanted to hear. Redcap had unsettled me, made me feel somehow wrong. Despite what I’d called him, I felt like the monster.

I pounded my fist on my knees. “I don’t care about any of that! I don’t care about Taliesin’s war.” The electricity between us surged through me, igniting colors in my mind and my body. What I wanted to say was that all I wanted was for Daley to take me in his arms, but I didn’t dare. Instead, I leaned in and kissed him.

I had a moment of fluorescent panic when he pulled away, but then his lips found mine and it was replaced with rose and magenta. Winding his fingers through my hair, Daley pulled me closer and the thunder vibrating between us told me he wanted this as much as I did. Opening and closing, rising and falling all at the same time, I sank into him, blinded by lightning and deafened by thunder.

I was slapped back to reality when Daley pushed me away and jumped off the bed. “What do you want from me?” he choked. I couldn’t speak, but I suspected the answer was in my face when his breath caught and branches of light flared across his eyes. He turned and faced the window. His shoulders heaved with a couple of deep breaths and when he spoke again, his voice was steady. “This doesn’t mean anything. It’s only electricity. I loved Melusine. I know why you did what you did, but I can’t forgive you for it, even if I do see my lightning reflected in your eyes.”

Cold filled me until I was numb and colorless. I wanted to laugh, but I knew it would come out wrong, twisted and ugly.

If there’s a god of love somewhere, he or she must be laughing their asses off. Tynan, Taliesin, Redcap, Daley, Me—we all love the wrong people. We’re all bound to the wrong people by bands of crimson and flame. Consumed by fire.

By the fire at the heart of the world.

I heard her voice again—the voice of the mother who’d abandoned me. Something teased at my brain. There was something I needed to remember, and it wasn’t about love.

Not this sort of love anyway.

The fire at the heart of the world—I tasted the words, searching for the colors hidden in them. For a moment, I was overwhelmed, but then the fragmented memories of the day she left me clicked together like the pieces of a puzzle. I finally knew what I had to do.

Standing and walking over to the door, I looked back at the young god of thunder silhouetted in the light of the moon streaming through the window.  “Tell Taliesin that Viviane is alive and has remade Excalibur. Tell him Excalibur is mine.”

Daley’s face was shocked, but he remembered his duty. “We need you, Rhiannon. We need Excalibur. Are you with us?”

I left without answering.

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE

I entered the clearing carrying Excalibur in its scabbard in one hand, a flashlight in the other, and a blanket draped over my shoulder. Kicking the candles and other witch debris out of the way, I shrugged the blanket off onto the grass and dropped the sword on it. As I put the flashlight on the picnic table, a gleam of something metallic caught my eye and I knelt down to pick it up.

A cross on a broken chain.

I put it away in the pocket of my jeans, not for faith, but in remembrance of a good man who made flowers grow.

Shrugging out of my coat and rubbing my arms to warm them, I settled myself on the blanket, but it was no barrier against the freezing ground. For a moment, I regretted leaving the warmth of my home, but this was a place with no proper name to bind it; the spell I was going to cast needed all the help it could get.  Unsheathing Excalibur, I used the scabbard to prop the sword blade side up. I was shivering violently now and it took a few tries to balance it properly. As I reached the point where cold is indistinguishable from heat, I closed my eyes.

The fire at the heart of the world.

The words were the key that turned the lock on my memory. I was on the Path of Time and the trees were as strange and menacing as I’d experienced before. If they were the ghosts of the forests of the world, they resented all of us. Strong arms carried me and I imagined I felt in them the desire to keep me and protect me. Perhaps it wasn’t possible to do both. I looked up and saw Tynan following us. With his long, dark hair and pale skin, he was as haunted looking as the trees.

Who are we running from?

The golden-haired woman stopped and turned to speak to him. “We must separate now and hope that Merlin is confused by our trails. He has no power to pass this way, but he has the patience of a spider. If he discovers what times we have fled to, he will wait for us in them even if it takes countless years. I have taken steps to conceal my daughter. The best I can do for you is to take away the memory of your former life and give you a chance at a new one. Merlin has no interest in you beyond a means to strike at Morgan and will not exert himself overmuch to find you.”

Tynan’s face was stricken. “Must I leave my mother?”

“If you value your life you must. Your greatest peril is if Arthur survives the wound you gave him and seeks his revenge. You will be safe in the future.”

There was a flash and Tynan jumped back into the gloom. I looked around to see Viviane stepping out of a bright light.

The golden-haired woman put me down and looked at me intently. “Rhiannon, you bear a power in your blood from both your parents that cannot be denied. Blood is life. Blood is everything. It is the magic of water, fire, and air combined within the earth of your flesh. When the time is right, Excalibur must be reborn. All our hope rests in you.”

The place around my heart hurt; I was too young to understand that it was breaking. I threw my arms around the woman and buried my face in her skirts, but she disengaged me firmly. Kneeling down to face me, she put her hands on my shoulders. “I know it is difficult to understand why I must leave you. I do not want to. But someday you will know what to do with the power you are heir to. Perhaps then we will find each other again.”

Viviane stepped forward. “What the child knows, others may divine. What even I know may be forced from me.”

“I trust you will take means to never let that happen.” There was danger in the woman’s voice and Viviane bowed her head in response. “But you are right, as always.” Pulling out a small knife from the pocket of her robe, she nicked her finger and blood welled up from the spot. When she touched my forehead, her blood burned and I began to cry.

“When the time is right, remember this and what it means: the fire at the heart of the world.”

“Blood magic is the most powerful magic of all,” Viviane murmured, taking my hand and pulling me away.

“Blood magic is the most powerful magic of all,” my mother agreed. “Pray she need not spill it all to save us.”

The memory had been waiting all these years to reveal itself at the right time and place, triggered by the key phrase. Almost losing my nerve, I said a quick prayer to whatever god might exist outside of a world that was lousy with them.

In one swift movement, I slammed my right wrist onto the razor-sharp blade and dragged my arm back.

A deep parallel cut began to stream hot blood. Trying not to focus on what I’d done to myself, I leaned over and slit the other wrist. Because of the awkward angle, that cut ran diagonally across the scar the Wheel of Taranis had left behind.

I’m the child of blood. It flows out like the sea.

Falling back, I pulled Excalibur onto my chest with difficulty—my hands didn’t work right anymore. I wanted to cry, to regret what I’d done, but then the pain was replaced by a sweet lethargy. As my blood flowed over Excalibur, I couldn’t remember why I was there and I was too moved by the beauty of the cold stars above me to care. Even Peter’s alarm running through our bond or the distant sense of Tynan’s own heart faltering as mine slowed couldn’t reach me.

It took much longer to die than I expected.

Hovering above myself, I examined my body, amazed at how much blood could come from two small, well-placed cuts. Without vanity, I decided the dead girl on the ground was quite lovely even with the vacant eyes and moon-pale skin—beautiful dead things again. The thought reminded me of what was supposed to happen next, but I was surrounded by a pale rope that slowly dragged me towards a far off darkness.

I was disappointed to realize I was wrong.

A sudden shimmer, a breath of warm air, and Thomas Redcap appeared. “Rhiannon!” He dropped to his knees and gathered my corpse in his arms, burying his face in my hair and not caring that Excalibur sliced into his chest. “What have you done? What have you done, mo leanabh?” Holding me, he raised my bloody wrist to his lips—capturing me in the strange and unique way of his kind—and the pale rope fell away.

I could take care of the rest.

“I’m not a child,” I whispered, back in my body.

Redcap’s eyes widened and flame engulfed the amber. “Rhiannon?”

I tried to smile. “I didn’t know any other way to call you.”

Excalibur flared to life between us, awakened by my blood sacrifice, but it was no longer just the gold of good earth and wheat sheaves. It was also the shimmering, changing blue of a sun-lit sea and the translucent white of racing clouds. Encompassing them all was crimson and scarlet, alizarin and flame.

Earth, water, air, and the spark of life: fire. The blade seared its brand on my flesh and then healed all my wounds as it claimed me with the elements of the earth power.

Redcap kissed me and I fell unresisting into the fire at the heart of the world.

CHAPTER FORTY SIX

Peter was sitting at the end of my bed. It was his anger humming through our bond that woke me up.

“Good. You’re awake. Now what the hell were you thinking? Do you know what it was like to feel you slit your wrists and to know I was too far away to get to you in time? Do you? Do you even care? Do you get that you actually died? That I felt it? And then to see you covered in blood . . .”

“And Thomas Redcap?” I joked weakly.

Peter’s mouth opened and closed for a moment before he found his voice again. “If you hadn’t already died once tonight, I think I’d kill you. I was almost out of my mind and poor Seolan was so freaked that I had to put him in your mom’s room.”

I pushed myself upright with shaking arms. “Excalibur?”

He snorted. “Alive and practically purring like a kitten. I can feel it through my bond with you. You wouldn’t let it go until we got you back here, but then it let me take it. I’m guessing all this was for its benefit?”

I nodded. “Redcap told you about Viviane?” That’s what she was to me now. She would never be Mom again.

“Yup.” Leaning forward, he turned my arms over and exposed the pink scars on my wrists. The round bisected one almost looked like the hilt of a sword.  “How did you know it would work?”

“I remembered something important my birth mother told me. She hid it in my mind until the time was right. The rest was intuition, but I knew Thomas Redcap would come at my death and capture my spirit before it went too far.”

Peter’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

I shook my head. “It’s a redcap thing. Excalibur is mine now and I was pretty sure it would heal me, just like it sent Arthur into an enchanted sleep instead of letting him die.”

Peter snorted again. “Pretty sure?”

“Mostly sure,” I amended with a grin that Peter couldn’t resist returning, even though I could still feel his anger. He had a right to it. It had all seemed so logical at the time. Maybe the fact I was still alive was proof I knew what I was doing. As I got out of bed, the dried blood on my t-shirt crackled and reddish flakes fell to the floor.

Or maybe I’m just lucky.

“Excalibur showed me how it was made. An asteroid fell into a lake. Viviane found it and the metal from it was forged in fire and quenched in earth. My birth mother awakened the sword with her blood. When I was little, she told me what I would need to do, but I didn’t remember. She told me that blood magic is the most powerful magic of all.” I also knew she’d only had to give a small amount of her blood to bring the sword to life. Healing the terrible damage done to it had taken a lot more of mine. Almost too much.

“You remember her?”

“A little.” I took a deep breath. “Could you grab me a clean top?”

Peter dug a clean t-shirt out of my closet and turned his back as I changed. Throwing the ruined one across the room at the small mountain of dirty clothes surrounding the hamper, I realized I’d probably end up burning them and going on a shopping spree before I ever managed to wash all of them. The movement pulled on my sore wrists, but otherwise, I felt great.

“Where is he?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

“Redcap? I don’t know. You were out of it for hours. I wanted to take you to the hospital, but he showed me your wrists healing so there didn’t seem to be much point. He wouldn’t leave your side at first, but once it seemed like you were going to be OK, he left.”

“Oh.” I forced myself to push any thoughts of Thomas Redcap and that hot, confusing kiss aside.

As I pulled the new shirt over my head, I looked down at myself in dismay. It was truly desperate if the only clean thing Peter could find was a t-shirt with a flavor of the month boy band on it from when I was twelve. At least I hadn’t gone up too many sizes in the bra department since then.

Let’s hope anyone who sees me in this thinks I’m being ironic.

“You can turn around, but don’t laugh.”

I expected him to make a joke, but he just stared at me blankly. Concentrating on our bond, I finally caught the undercurrent of an anger running through it that had nothing to do with me.

“What is it?” I asked.

“You’ve got a couple of visitors. I’ve been holding them off until you woke up, but they’re getting pretty impatient.”

“Who?”

“Nope. You gave me the shock of my life. Think of this as payback.”

I looked at myself in the mirror over the dresser and the face staring back at me from the mirror was now definitely a Rhiannon, not just a Rhi. Redcap’s scratch down my cheek and the marks on my wrists couldn’t be helped, so I gave up on the idea of making myself presentable and went into the living room.

I was expecting Daley and Tynan, or even Taliesin waiting to tell me off for taking such a stupid risk. I didn’t expect my father sitting on the couch twirling Goodfellow’s sprig of holly in his fingers. Boudica stood at attention by his side.

Holding my gaze, the Lord of the Grey Lands held the holly up. I watched in horror as the power and life in it was drained until it was a blackened husk.

Just like I did with the Dobhar-chú.

Crumbling what was left of the holly in his fist and tossing the fragments on the coffee table, he rose to greet me. “Daughter,” he said, inclining his head.

“Dad,” I replied, hoping my voice wouldn’t betray my fear.

I was rewarded with a wintry smile. “I suppose you know that I have been searching for you for a very long time.”

“Yes. How did you find me now?”

Cernunnos wandered around the room, inspecting my belongings with interest and picking up an item here and there to examine more closely. I half expected him to put on some white gloves and check for dust.  “I knew that when Viviane died, I would eventually be able to break through the spell she used to shield you, but then you revealed yourself to Boudica and saved me the trouble. Sending the Dobhar-chú was a little test to make sure. But since then, you’ve been a busy girl—raising the dead, killing yourself—I could have found you blindfolded after that.”

Was it wrong that my heart lifted at the thought that he wanted me? Was it so strange that I responded to the unfamiliar and yet somehow familiar sound of his voice? His pattern of speech was more natural than his sisters’. In fact, I couldn’t see any similarity between him and Viviane or Morgan at all. I crossed my arms to hide my shaking hands and the idiotic smiling boys printed across my chest.

Peter moved to my side and Cernunnos laughed softly. “Relax, Protector. Viviane stole Rhiannon from me for her own purposes; I only wish to claim what is mine.”

A flash of crimson cut through me. I’d claimed myself when I quickened Excalibur. “I don’t belong to you.”

“Do you not?” His smile was wider now. “And if I tried to take you, do you think you could stop me?”

I was reminded of Daley saying almost the same thing to Goodfellow and grey doubt clouded my vision. I forced myself to smile back. “Maybe not, but Excalibur could.”

His face didn’t change, but I could feel the menace in him. “So you have the earth totem? I had assumed that when Arthur was awakened, it was by Excalibur’s power.”

“No. Morgan murdering her own son is what woke Arthur up.”

His eyebrows arched. “Ah, I see. How fitting. And this was the same boy you resurrected, I gather.” Cernunnos pursed his lips. “Mordred is mad, but of the four of us, only Morgan and I have produced children.” I tried not to flinch as he stepped towards me and lifted cold fingers to trace the scratch on my cheek. “You have no idea how important you are.” His eyes were black with flecks of pure white.

“And yet Morgan stuck a knife in her son’s heart. I don’t suppose you would do any different.”

Dropping his hand, Cernunnos turned to Boudica and laughed. “Did I not tell you, my queen? Is she not my daughter to the very core?”

“Yes, my lord,” she murmured.

Through our bond, I could feel Peter’s fury grow. He was poised to attack, but we were outmatched and I needed to deflect his attention quickly. “So are you two an item then? I wouldn’t put a ring on it if I were you, Daddy. Bo has a habit of killing off her husbands.”

Cernunnos’ raised eyebrows were curiously fine and dark, as if they were drawn on. “And what does it matter to me that she dispatched the mewling druid?”

Closing my eyes, I concentrated on the woman. It had only been a guess sparked by quick flashes of the warm brown of good earth and the emerald green of leaves at the height of summer surrounding her, but I was shocked to discover I was right. Remembering the deep cuts that had almost severed Rowan’s head from his body, I struggled against a surge of nausea.

Opening my eyes and forcing a smile, I drawled, “Because your girlfriend is haunted by her past, Daddy. Literally.”

Cernunnos examined Boudica closely and then shuddered delicately. “Nasty creatures, ghosts. You know how much I despise the parasites, my dear.”

“Yes, my lord,” Boudica said meekly, but she glared at me. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Do not return to my presence until you do.” With the barest flick of his wrist, the woman was banished into nothingness.

I let out my breath in a startled whoosh. “Where did she go?”

Cernunnos sat back down on the couch and crossed his legs elegantly. “Somewhere she can deal with her little problem. The woman has her uses, but I like my concubines clean and free of disease.” His smile was the definition of wicked.

I was appalled, even for Boudica. “She thinks you’re going to make her a queen again. She betrayed everyone for you.”

He shrugged. “And I may keep that promise if it suits me. Now, enough about the Icenian, what are we going to do about our little problem?” He motioned for me to sit, but I remained standing. His mouth twitched as if he found my stubbornness amusing.

“What problem?”

He picked off an imaginary piece of dust from his knife-pleated pants. “Don’t pretend to be a half-wit—Arthur, of course. Neither of us wants him to ascend to his power and we certainly don’t want him to get his hands on that pig-sticker your young man is trying to hide.” Peter flushed but didn’t move from his position blocking the chest of drawers in the corner.

Cernunnos laughed again. “Really, my dear, is this the best you can do for a Protector? Once I knew you had Excalibur, it was a matter of moments to find it in the room.” He paused. “How did you quicken it, by the way? I had thought it was dead and useless.”

I didn’t answer and when he stood, I took a step backward in response. “Good,” he said, surveying me with satisfaction. “Don’t underestimate my power or my lack of patience for stupid children. Because of the Wall, my time here is short, so listen well. We share the same goal: to stop Arthur before he takes action against either of our worlds.”

I decided to play along. “What do you want from me?”

Cernunnos’ smile was a thin line. “Nothing more than what you were already intending. Our purpose at this moment is the same.”

“And what’s that?”

“Finding your mother, of course.”

My heart lurched. It hadn’t occurred to me until that moment that of course my father would know the identity of the woman he’d impregnated.

“My mother?” I asked, pretending not to care.

But the Lord of the Grey Lands wasn’t fooled and his smile widened. “Yes, your mother—the earth witch Guinevere.”

I couldn’t speak. Not in a million years would I have guessed my birth mother was Arthur’s spurned wife.

Merlin and Guinevere—boy did the storybooks get that one wrong.

Cernunnos was becoming transparent and I could sense the power of the Wall as it drew him back to the grey lands of Avalon.

And I recognized the familiar handiwork.

I smiled. “You didn’t make the Wall Between Worlds to protect yourself from Arthur. Viviane made it to protect us from you. Don’t bother denying it. I’ve seen her walls up close. And now that she’s back, yours is as strong as ever.”

I felt a rush of satisfaction as his eyes widened—he hadn’t known Viviane had returned—but my father would not be bested so easily. “Then you had better find Guinevere quickly. She’s the only one who can undo Viviane’s spell and bring down the Wall. Without my help, you can never hope to defeat Arthur.” He made a motion with his hand and a raging tidal wave of color obliterated the barrier in my mind. Screaming in pain, I could feel Peter catch me as I fell, but I was blinded by the color searing my retinas and the feeling of knives plunging into my skull.

There was a terrible pounding noise. Cernunnos turned in surprise as Seolan broke Viviane’s door off its hinges and burst into the room. The hound looked at me with eyes that loved and forgave me and then leapt at Cernunnos.

Cernunnos caught him by the throat mid-air and the hound made a pitiful, strangled sound. Making sure I was watching, he smiled as he crushed Seolan’s neck.

“NO!” I screamed as he tossed the lifeless body at my feet.

As quickly as it began, the pain was gone. Gasping for air, I searched through the new colors that filled me for that red I’d once seen that would sear the flesh off bones. Fire tipped with acid appeared in my hands, but Cernunnos made another small motion and the color was forced back inside me. For a moment I thought I might burst into flames myself, but then I contained it.

Cernunnos grimaced as he delicately wiped hair and blood from his fingers onto my couch. “Don’t make a spectacle of yourself. I created you. Fulfill the purpose of that creation and I may let you live. Deny me and I will make your every moment a living agony until color eats through your brain and leaks out of your skull.” A shock went through me as I realized that my father saw power as color too.  “Good. I can see you understand me. You’re going to be an obedient little girl and do what I say. You’re first task is to find Arthur’s abandoned queen.” He took something out of his pocket and threw it on top of Seolan’s broken body. “Use this to contact me when you’re successful.”

“I don’t belong to you, Cernunnos,” I hissed.

He ignored my bravado. “One last thing: I’ve decided I no longer wish to be known as Cernunnos. The Celts who gave me that name are all rotting in their graves. You may call me father, but tell the others I want to be known by a name as famous as Arthur’s.” He faded from view, but his voice rang through the room, rattling the cupboards and shaking the windows.

“Tell them my name is Merlin!”

Trembling, I pushed away from Peter and fell to my knees beside Seolan. Throwing my arms around him, I buried my face in his silky hair, but my tears had been burned away in flame.

I sat up. “Get me Excalibur.” Peter retrieved the sword from behind the chest of drawers and handed it to me. I pulled just enough out of the scabbard to expose the sharp edge and make a long cut in my palm. Passing my hand over Seolan’s face, I closed his dark, trusting eyes and stained the white fur with my blood.

“I will avenge you. I swear it.” The scars on my wrists and the burn on my chest flared hot and I knew Excalibur witnessed my blood vow to the creature whose life I had taken twice. I would be held to that vow by the earth magic.

A small object rolled off Seloan’s broad chest and I picked it up.

It was a pink apple from the orchards of Avalon.

CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN

I stared at the little pink sphere sitting on my coffee table. Was I supposed to eat it when I found Guinevere? Would I fall asleep like Snow White and wake up in Avalon? It didn’t matter. I doubted Guinevere would be easy to find. I still had time to figure out how to free myself from Merlin’s clutches.

I jumped at the knock on my door and when I opened it, I was surprised to find Miko standing outside. Taliesin’s Jag was parked on the road.

We stared at each other for a moment. No one could see them when they were retracted, but the dark wings she’d schemed to get still hovered between us. “What are you doing here?” My encounter with my father had stripped me of politeness. “If you’re looking for Peter, he’s not here.”

Peter was burying Seolan under the trees near the back paddock. I couldn’t bear to do it.

She shifted uneasily and I saw she had her leather bag on one shoulder. “He called me earlier to tell me you re-made Excalibur somehow. That’s amazing.” She didn’t sound amazed. She didn’t sound like she cared at all.

Confused, I opened the door wider. “Do you want to come in?”

She shook her head. “It’s OK. I need to ask you something, but maybe now’s not the best time.”

She was right—it wasn’t—but I forced myself to care a little. “What’s wrong?”

Miko took the bag off her shoulder and shoved it into my hands as if she couldn’t bear to touch it anymore. I knew from the weight of it what was inside.

The fairy’s eyes filled with tears and I saw that her irises were now large and black. “Binnorie doesn’t belong to me anymore. She rejected me.”

I could guess how much that hurt her, but she wasn’t dumping the harp on me. I held out the bag. “Well I certainly don’t want it.”

She backed away. “I know, but I don’t know who else to give her to. She won’t go to any of the guys. I don’t know who else to trust her with until she picks another keeper. You’ll keep her safe until she does. I owe her that much.”

I thought of Seolan and how I’d failed to keep him safe. “Binnorie hates me.”

“Binnorie fears you. She’ll obey you.”

I shuddered. “I don’t want anything to do with her. I’m only keeping her until she chooses someone else.” I hated that I was now calling the harp ‘she’, but not as much as I hated being the guardian of a magical object made from the hair, bone, and spirit of a drowned girl.

“Thank you,” Miko said as she turned and walked back to the Jag. I put the bag down on the porch and followed her. As she opened the door, she paused but didn’t look at me. “I know I was stupid. I know Peter will never forgive me. I’ve never belonged anywhere—not with my father’s people, not with my mother’s. Taliesin tolerates me out of pity.”

“That’s not true . . .”

“I knew if I had wings, things would be different. I would be different.” Her lips trembled and obsidian tears ran down her cheeks. “And now I am. Just not the way I hoped I’d be.”

I didn’t want to, but I felt sorry for her. “Maybe they’re not the wings you wanted, but they’re still good, right? And you don’t give Peter enough credit. He’ll forgive you. Things could go back to the way they used to be.”

Miko shook her head. “More things have changed than my wings. I’m something new, and new isn’t always good.” I had to step away quickly as she pulled the car door closed and sped down the laneway.

CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT

The thing about growing up is you start to realize that nothing about life is simple and clear.

Arthur was my enemy, but he loved the world in his own blind way. I needed Merlin to stop Arthur, but he was a devil I’d been forced into a bargain with. Taliesin had vowed to stop them both, but he loved the woman who had killed the son of his heart.

I couldn’t trust any of them.

There were no good sides. No wrong and right. No black and white.

Only all the colors of the world in between.

CHAPTER FORTY NINE

It was only a few days before Christmas, and Peter and I were sitting on a plane heading for Las Vegas. He pretended to read while I stared out the window, thinking about the events of the past two months.

The others had arranged for Robin Goodfellow to take them home to the ranch in Nevada and Peter and I had promised to join them once the semester was over. The goodbyes were awkward. Daley was distant. Miko was sad and listless. Peter hugged her but stepped back quickly when she tried to return it.

Taliesin was still in mourning for Rowan and Morgan. When I presented Excalibur to him in its renewed glory, the bard turned away, overcome. Once he collected himself and began to ask questions, I was purposefully vague about how I’d quickened the sword and also how I’d discovered my birth mother was Guinevere. He was deeply shocked at that revelation. When he assumed Viviane told me, I didn’t correct him. I didn’t mention my visit from Merlin either, though I informed him of my father’s name change. I could tell Taliesin’s sharp eyes had noted the faint scars on my wrists, but if he guessed what had happened, he didn’t say. It was a good thing he couldn’t see Excalibur’s outline branded into the skin between my breasts. He did let me know that the scabbard could make itself and the sword invisible if I commanded it to.

I didn’t want to talk about Seolan and was glad when no one asked.

When Tynan pulled me aside and asked if he could speak with me, the others wandered away to give us some privacy. “So, about you and Daley . . .” I tensed and Tynan smiled sadly. “I just wanted to clear the air. I think you know how much I care about you. I realize we’re half cousins through Cernunnos, I mean Merlin, but that doesn’t mean the same thing to Greylanders as it does to humans. And though I don’t really understand it, Dad told me that you saved my life. I wish I could repay you somehow. I wish . . .” He didn’t finish saying what he wished. “But I know you have feelings for Daley.”

There was no point denying it. “Yes.”

He bowed his head and his dark hair covered his face. “He still loves Melusine, you know.”

There was no point denying that either. “Yes,” I said again.

Tynan stiffened and looked up, eyes blazing. “I get it, but it’s a mistake, Rhiannon. And what about the redcap? What’s your relationship with him?”

I was caught off guard. “Nothing. We’re friends. That’s it,” I stammered.

“The redcap is dangerous and more powerful than he knows.” Tynan’s voice was darker and more mature. A shiver ran through me. It was Mordred’s voice—the voice of a boy who at twelve, in that time period, was a man.

The voice of a man who had tried to kill his own father.

“I felt it, you know.” He clutched his chest. “You did something and I felt my own heart stop.”

Tynan was illuminated by the white of my own horror. I hadn’t stopped to think that I was risking his life as well as my own when I cut my wrists. For the first time, the true enormity of what I’d taken on when I saved his life threatened to crush me.

He hunched his shoulders and seemed to deflate. “Anyway, you should be careful around both of them. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” His voice was hesitant and soft, the way it normally was.

“I’ll be careful,” I promised, but I didn’t mean about Tynan and Redcap.  I made a silent vow that I would be more careful about the life I held in the palm of my hand.

Tynan smiled shyly and the echo of Mordred was completely gone. “C’mon, you’ve got to see this. Goodfellow must feel really bad about everything because he’s gone all out.”

When I followed him through the patio doors, I wondered if I’d finally snapped. A massive wooden ship rested on the back lawn.

All it needs is the animals filing in it two by two.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said under my breath but Tynan heard me and chuckled. The sound was so normal that my heart lifted in hope. Maybe his darker half would eventually disappear.

Goodfellow emerged from a door onto the deck, his red hair blowing in the wind. “I told you, Miss Lynne,” he called down to me, “I can make a Path look like anything I want.” His laughter echoed across the sky and I couldn’t help smiling back. I guessed that Taliesin had forgiven him for his deception and there was something about him that made me want to as well. It would be easier to stay mad at a forest than it would be to stay mad at the Green Man.

He gestured and fabric on the deck that I’d thought was a sail now filled with air and became a giant hot air balloon. When Peter joined me, I could feel my best friend’s delight at the steampunk marvel in front of us.

Geek, I thought affectionately. When he laughed and stuck his tongue out at me, I knew he’d somehow heard me through our bond.

His joy faded as Miko brushed past him and then turned and gave him one last sad look. Despite the closeness I’d developed with the fairy, I hated her for dimming Peter’s light.

The strange individuals who had entered our lives walked up the plank and into the hatch on the side of the airship. Daley was the last. He hesitated at my side as if he wanted to say something, but then walked away without a word. It amazed me that he couldn’t feel the magenta bond that stretched between us and threatened to pull my heart out of my chest. He stopped again at the top of the plank, silhouetted against the opening into the airship, and I remembered the first day I met him. I thought of how I’d compared the two brothers as they stood side by side and found something missing in Tynan. I thought of Morgan and what she’d said about wishing she’d met and loved Taliesin before Arthur. Maybe I would have loved Tynan if Daley hadn’t been there to outshine him. I thought of how that might have changed everything.

Daley looked back at me before he disappeared, and even at that distance, I could see the flash of lightning in his eyes.

I abandoned any regret. I’d chosen the storm. I wouldn’t complain about the weather.

The hatch closed and the airship vanished.

Peter and I returned to our lives. He threw himself into sports, but I knew he thought about Miko all the time. He stopped going to church and that worried me almost as much as I knew it worried his parents. Sometimes I felt flashes of rage through our bond that frightened me.

We’re all changing so much.

Without Viviane’s hiding spell, I experienced normal school life fully. It wasn’t all pleasant. I tried to repair my grades, but it was a hopeless cause. I even went on a couple of dates that left me longing for eyes pierced with lightning and the touch of sparks on my skin.

On the last day of November, Lacey returned to school and reclaimed her title as Queen of the Bumblebees. A bad case of mono was the explanation for her strange behavior and she was treated with all the sympathy due a tragic heroine. Given that he had used the same illness as an excuse, Peter got the blame for getting her sick. The Bumblebees gave him angry looks he was completely oblivious to. Lacey didn’t acknowledge him or me as she walked into Mr. Porter’s class on her first day back.

As I sat behind her and watched her pop back up the social ladder, I seethed with anger. She’d betrayed us so Cailleach could deliver a dragon to Merlin. I didn’t know if Cailleach had forced her or if she’d gone along willingly and I didn’t want to know. I didn’t trust myself to not do something stupid if I didn’t like the answer. Using my senses to search for any traces of power, I found her colorless.

But one swirling tattoo remained on her wrist.

It made what I had to do that much harder. Binnorie had been whispering to me for days until I wanted to smash the thing to bits. Now the harp lay quiet in the leather bag at my feet. When the bell rang, I picked it up and rushed after Lacey as she was leaving. I grabbed her by the arm. Hard.

I might have also used a little magic to make sure she really felt it.

As I guided—some might say forced—Lacey down the hall, through the stage door and onto the stage, I could feel her shaking. I released her and she stumbled away from me. Smiling, I channeled enough of the red of my anger into the air to surround the stage with a ring of flame.

When I gestured and Excalibur appeared in my hand, the would-be witch gasped and fell to her knees. I made sure she got a good look at it before I put it back in the scabbard belted at my waist. I gestured again and it disappeared. I just had to think of it disappearing for the thing to obey, but I was putting on a good show. We were on the stage after all.

“What do you want?” I could see Lacey’s hands trembling, but her voice was calm and I had to admire her acting skills.

“What I want is for you to know that despite everything you did, Melusine is contained, the Lady of the Lake has returned, and Excalibur is mine.” At least I hoped Melusine was still contained in her ghostly form.

Lacey got to her feet and straightened her shoulders. “I know. I also know who your birth mother is. Between her and Cernunnos, it’s no surprise you were able to claim Excalibur.”

I glanced at the tattoo on her wrist. I might not be able to sense any power in her, but the mark was proof that Lacey still had a few tricks up her sleeve. I remembered the fith-fath Rowan had made for her and wondered if she’d taken it from him after all and was using it now.

“I was bound to the crone,” she said defiantly. “I didn’t have a choice.”

I didn’t believe her, but it didn’t matter. I slid the bag across the stage and she jumped back from it as if it might be filled with snakes.

“Pick it up.” She approached it cautiously and obeyed. “Look inside.”

Lacey opened the bag and gasped in shock. When she looked at me, her eyes were round and full of tears. “Why?”

I shrugged. “How should I know? She’s claimed you and now you’re her keeper. Binnorie’s crazy, so that probably explains it.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Don’t thank me yet. I have three conditions.”

“Anything.”

“First, if the harp ever wants to go back to Miko, you won’t stop it.” Lacey hesitated and then nodded. “Second, if Taliesin asks you to find Potentials for him, you will.” She nodded again, quicker this time. “And third, I don’t want to see you in this school until after the semester ends.” She started to protest but I stopped her. “I mean it, Lacey. I don’t care if you call it a relapse, or exchange school, or a death in the family. Over the holidays, Peter and I are joining the others in Las Vegas, but until then, if I even think I can sense you anywhere near us, I’ll take Binnorie and grind her to dust. Are we clear?”

Lacey rubbed her eyes and nodded. “I’ll do what you ask, but you’re right—I’m not sorry. Cailleach served Cernunnos, but he’s no worse than the rest of them. There are no good sides, only a chance to gain enough power to be free of them all.”

“That’s exactly what I intend to do. Don’t get in my way, Lacey.” I waved my hand and the flames vanished. “I’ll leave you two to get acquainted.” As I felt my way in the dark for the exit, Binnorie began to sing.

Lacey was true to her word—a transfer to a private school in one of the southern states was the excuse. December passed quickly. Peter had already convinced the Larsens to let him spend Christmas with Miko in Las Vegas. He hadn’t told them he and Miko had broken up. I wasn’t even sure they actually had.

What’s the protocol for breaking up with someone who only cheats on you to become a fairy/vampire hybrid?

And then there was the greatest surprise of all.

The night before our flight, the Larsens celebrated Christmas early and we feasted on turkey, chestnut stuffing, and cranberry-apple pie. I watched with excitement as the Larsens opened my gift—a white porcelain statue of a horse I found in a little shop downtown. I’d also paid the taxes on the property for the next year, but they wouldn’t find out about that until after I was gone. Hopefully it would keep Windfield safe from developers a little while longer.

By midnight, we were sipping eggnog by the fire and Mr. Larsen was asleep on the couch snoring loudly. When Peter’s mom motioned for us to put down our mugs and follow her, we grinned at each other. It was one of our traditions. Mrs. Larsen usually kept back a special treat just for us—Mr. Larsen was diabetic and she hated to tempt him too much. I hoped that this year it was her almond crescents—a family recipe handed down from her German ancestors for generations—but when we entered the kitchen, she was just standing there with tears rolling down her cheeks.

Peter rushed over and put his arm around her. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just going to miss you so much.”

“It’s only a couple of weeks. I’ll be back in no time.”

Mrs. Larsen tried to smile, but her lips trembled. “That’s what they all say when they go to Taliesin. That’s what my sister said, but she never did come back.”

All the air seemed to have been sucked out of the room.

“The Protector curse comes from my side of the family,” she explained quietly.

“Mom . . . ,” Peter began, but she shushed him.

“I was eleven when my sister left and thirteen when my parents received the letter from Taliesin telling us she’d been lost. I knew exactly what you were the moment you were born. I knew you were Rhi’s Protector the first time I saw you together. It didn’t take too many late night football practices before I realized you weren’t telling me the truth and that Taliesin had come for you both at last.”

I could feel Peter’s shock through our bond. Of all the changes in his world, this one was the worst and he could barely process it.

“Did you know what Viviane was?” I asked softly.

Mrs. Larsen shook her head emphatically. “No. And I don’t want to know now. I was afraid of what it might do to Peter if I turned you away. That’s the honest reason why I took you both in, but I let you stay because I grew to love you.”

She put out her arms and the three of us huddled together in a teary embrace. I was taller than her now and it made me sad.

Pushing us away and wiping her eyes, Mrs. Larsen retrieved a photograph from the counter behind her. “This is Marie when she was seventeen. She was gone a few months later.” The photo showed an attractive girl with blonde hair posing in front of a Christmas tree.

Peter took the photo from her. “Dad always said Aunt Marie died in a car crash.”

“Your father never knew her. We told everyone she’d gone away to school. Taliesin had just relocated from Wales to Nevada—something about the opportunity of the ‘New World’ being a powerful attraction for monsters. When Marie disappeared, we made up the story of the accident to explain it.”

“Disappeared?” I asked.

“We never found out what happened. Taliesin said there was no body.” When Peter tried to give the photo back, she shook her head. “Take it with you. I always hoped Marie had changed her mind and run away when she got the chance. You never know, maybe you’ll find her someday.”

The photo was now the placeholder in the book Peter was pretending to read. He was running his thumbnail up and down the groove between his bottom teeth as he stared at it. I wondered if knowing about his aunt made him doubt his decision to join Taliesin, but I didn’t intrude on his thoughts through our bond. I knew what I thought about it all. The bard had either deliberately concealed his knowledge of her, or worse, completely forgotten about the girl who had disappeared while fighting for him. Almost defiantly, Peter had promised his mother that he would be back, no matter what.

I didn’t promise anything.

Resting my head against the window, I stared into the darkness beyond the plane. There wasn’t anything left for me back home, only Seolan buried under the trees. I’d planted a holly bush over the spot to protect him in death the way I couldn’t in life.

The seatbelt light went on and the pilot indicated over the loudspeaker that we were about to make our descent. As the plane approached the lights of Las Vegas, the emerald mystery of the city made me feel like Dorothy entering Oz. Candy apple red winked at me from out of the midst of the brilliant green, reminding me of Thomas Redcap, and I couldn’t help smiling.

As I touched my fingers to the cold window, I thought of the day Viviane died and the feel of her skin and how I couldn’t bear it. That moment began a journey that ended here. I pressed my hand flat against the glass. Las Vegas would be the beginning of a new one. Maybe Daley was out there right now, reaching for the sky, answered by thunder. My heart beat faster and I could feel the slight echo of Tynan’s after it.

“There’s no place like home,” I whispered as lightning flashed on the horizon.

EPILOGUE

Fear is white and thickly veined with sea-blue.

The specialist was talking, but I wasn’t listening. Unlike the on-call doctor and his bright yellow concern, this one had no personal interest in me at all.

He was interested in my cancer though. He lit up all rosy pink whenever he was talking about the tumor in my brain.

He glanced down at the chart to make sure he had the name right. “Miss Lynne, do you understand what I’m telling you?” He probably thought my silence was a refusal to accept bad news, but I’d seen the corruption first hand and he wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know.

I nodded.

“Good. Then I’d like to have you admitted for surgery immediately. We’re lucky the tumor isn’t affecting any vital processes at the moment, but the scans show that its growth is steady and fast. The sooner we get in there and remove it . . .”

“I can’t,” I interrupted him. The doctor’s eyes narrowed and I hurried to explain. “I leave tonight to visit family in Las Vegas.”

“Your family will understand.”

“But it’s my grandma. She’s really old and this might be the last time I get to see her. I want to be with family this Christmas and she’s the only family I’ve got since Mom died.”

Careful Rhi, don’t lay it on too thick.

The doctor tapped his finger against my file and I decided to tip the scale in my favor. Closing my eyes briefly, I teased out a breath of indigo. I still found magic easier if I let it take physical shape and the doctor would have been able to see a faint misting of color if he’d bothered to look up from my file. Before he could, I bound him ever so gently to the persistent idea that I needed to go. I couldn’t force him, but I could make him feel like he wanted to help me out.

“That sounds fine then.” He put the file down on the desk. “Go visit your grandmother for the holidays and I’ll tell Admissions to expect you on January third.”

I didn’t bother hiding the relief in my voice. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Family is important.” Pulling a pen out of his lab coat pocket, the doctor scribbled something on a pad of paper. “Take this to the pharmacy downstairs. If the headaches get too severe, one of these will help.” He handed me the prescription and then paused and frowned. Picking up the file again, he tapped it against the desk.

“Just make sure to check yourself in as soon as you get back. This is serious, Miss Lynne. Your tumor is aggressive. Left untreated, it will begin to press on your brain and you will experience seizures, blackouts, and a loss of motor and bodily functions. Eventually it will kill you.” I promised I would return. For a moment I thought he was going to insist I stay, but then he said goodbye and left briskly.

A few minutes later, I was outside and tossing the prescription in a garbage can. I had my own way of dealing with the pain and no time for curious doctors—my time was running out. I needed to find my mother and a way to keep Merlin out of my head before Arthur made his move. I figured if Guinevere was powerful enough for Merlin to need her, then she might be able to help me stop her husband. Convincing Taliesin to take me to Viviane’s sister Morgause, the Seer of New York, was the first step in that plan.

Settling myself into my beloved Celica—I would miss it when I abandoned it at the airport—I pulled out my passport and tickets to make sure they were in order. Goodfellow owed me big time for his part in the mess with Morgan and Tynan and a new name and fake passport were only the beginning of how hard I was going to squeeze him. I wasn’t ready to trust him to put me on a Path again yet, so I’d had him arrange flights for us.

I flipped open the passport. I hadn’t given Goodfellow any instructions and I was curious as to what he’d chosen. Lynne was a name Viviane had used to echo her title as the Lady of the Lake. I was on my way to find a new mother, so I needed a new name.

Rhiannon Caerleon.

It tugged at my memory until I recalled that Caerleon was the city Arthur and Guinevere had ruled together before he spurned her and made his home in Camelot. Whispering the name, trying it out, I decided I was satisfied with Goodfellow’s choice. I was ready.

Las Vegas is as good a place as any to die.

I noticed the sky as I put the car in gear and pulled out of the parking lot. The sun was just beginning to set and streaks of red underscored the clouds, echoing the colors that surged through me.

Fear is white and thickly veined with sea-blue, until it evaporates in crimson flame.

The next book in the SWORD OF ELEMENTS SERIES is CAUGHT IN CRIMSON

An important note about the order of books in this special boxed set:

The events in TO MAKE A WITCH—a companion novel featuring Lacey McInnis, New Orleans, and Voodoo—take place before those of CAUGHT IN CRIMSON. You may read these two books in any order, and CAUGHT IN CRIMSON follows next in this box set, but characters introduced in TO MAKE A WITCH do make an appearance in CRIMSON.

If you enjoyed BOUND IN BLUE, please leave a review at: http://tinyurl.com/ozyauvx

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CAUGHT

IN

CRIMSON

Book Two of the Sword of Elements

Heather Hamilton-Senter

Two Paths Publishing

Ontario, Canada

What if you were the monster of your own story?

Armed with Excalibur, Rhi must learn to control both her ability to see magic as color, and her hunger to possess it, but an ancient artifact of the earth magic keeps calling to her with a fire she may not be able to resist, even if it changes her into something she doesn't recognize, even if it destroys her. Only Guinevere or Merlin can help her, and Rhi must decide whether her loyalties lie with humanity, or with the beings of the Grey Lands, her true home.

The choices bound in magic are never black and white.

Copyright © 2015 by Heather Hamilton-Senter

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

Two Paths Publishing

www.twopathspublishing.com

Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

Book Layout © 2014 BookDesignTemplates.com

Cover Design © 2015 BookCoverArtistry.com

Caught In Crimson/ Heather Hamilton-Senter. -- 1st ed.

ISBN 978-0-9938225-5-1

I have happily taken liberty with La Belle Dame Sans Merci by Keats, This Endris Night, The Lorica of Saint Patrick, and Preiddeu Annwn by the historical Taliesin.

I have also quoted Thanatopsis by William Cullen Bryant as it is quoted on the tomb of John E. Hubbard in the Green Mount Cemetery of Montpelier, Vermont.

CONTENTS

RED

RUBY

SCARLET

GARNET

CARDINAL

ROSE

COQUELICOT

VERMILION

CARNELIAN

ALIZARIN

CERISE

BERRY

BURGUNDY

POPPY

ROUGE

AMARANTH

CARMINE

CLARET

FLAME

CINNABAR

CRIMSON

CRIMSON

CRIMSON

CRIMSON

ASH

ASH AND FLAME

PROLOGUE

RED

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I've tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

― ROBERT FROST

The sand was cold under my bare feet and my palm was numb where it rested against the metal of the flashlight. In the Mojave Desert, before the sun was up, December was pretty chilly. Not the kind of cold I was used to back home, but enough to make my toes curl and send stiff rays of almost-pain up my back. I shivered in my swimsuit, although the scraps of black fabric could only just barely be called that.

I’d learned the hard way that clothing and fire don’t mix.

Except for the long sweater tied around my waist, the rest of my things were stashed in the SUV I’d liberated from Taliesin’s collection. A fifteen minute drive had brought me to Henderson, Nevada, and a quiet road where suburbia ended and the desert began.

I did a quick check to make sure no one else was nearby, but the only color I could sense was the faint glow of the coming dawn on the horizon. I’d scoped out the location the day before, looking for somewhere private to explore this new expression of power. Ever since Peter and I had arrived in Las Vegas, I’d been filled with red. Red was anger and rage, passion and excitement. It was life. It was fire.

Hence the bikini.

I’d lost control of it with Taliesin on the very first day. He’d called me into his office for a private talk, but interrogation was more accurate, and I’d given in and confessed exactly what happened when I quickened Excalibur. Taliesin, warrior-bard and one-time companion to King Arthur, was one of the good guys, but he could also make me absolutely furious. He didn’t approve of the risk I’d taken using blood magic and we got into a terrible argument.

That was the first time I burst into flames.

At first, I enjoyed the stunned look on his face, but then my jeans and t-shirt began to smoke and the edges flared with bright sparks. Running to my room, I only barely made it to privacy in time. As heat flickered over me, I realized that even though it could hurt and destroy, it wasn’t normal fire.

It was magic.

I decided I was far enough away from the road. Dropping the flashlight on the sand, I untied my sweater and threw it a safe distance away; I would need it unsinged if I didn’t want to scare all the early morning commuters by walking out of the desert naked.

In the darkness, out of sight of mankind and godkind, I let emotion fill me—rage at the mother who’d abandoned me, the foster mother who’d denied me the truth of my existence, the father who only wanted me as his puppet—it erupted from every pore. Back arched and gasping, I was a column of fire reaching for the sky.

I was a question framed in flame.

And I was answered. Red magic surged into me from unknown beings, some as close as the neighborhood behind, others as far as the edges of the state. I wanted to keep it all, but it passed through me leaving tantalizing glimpses of the wondrous, terrible things it could make me capable of. Then the magic was gone and only my hot anger remained. Sick with hunger for that ecstasy of power, I didn’t care if it meant stealing it from other beings somewhere out there in the dark. In that moment, I would have killed to have it back.

Agony sliced through my temples. Falling to my knees, I called on Viviane’s binding spell to block the pain. For one terrifying moment I didn’t think it would work, but then cool, blue relief replaced the red of rage. I huddled in the sand, naked and cold, guessing that I’d probably done new damage to myself. I didn’t care.

Weeping at the loss of magic both darker and brighter than anyone should ever possess, I knew I was a monster.

CHAPTER ONE

RUBY

The shouting woke me up. Again.

Since Peter and I’d arrived, each day had begun and ended the same way—with him fighting with Miko.

Groaning, I reached for a pillow and stuffed it against my ears. I’d slipped in before dawn, hoping I could still get an hour of sleep before anyone was up, but Peter’s voice had to be waking everyone in this wing of the estate. I’d never even heard Peter yell until all this mess with the fairy, not even when we were little. When Peter was angry, his mouth tightened up and he went silent.

Ruby anger flared once and obscured the bright green of my bond with my best friend, but I pushed it away. My trip to the desert had eased some of the tension that had been threatening to boil over. Still, I was tired and irritated by it all.

I wish he’d get over it. It’s not like Miko can take back letting her ex-boyfriend bite her.

I knew I wasn’t being fair. I was just as angry with Miko, but if Peter wasn’t going to break it off with her, then he needed to learn to live with it.

Sighing, I pushed the pillow off and sat up. Peter’s voice was quieter now, though that wasn’t necessarily a good sign. Holding my breath, I waited for the sound I’d begun to dread—the sound of Miko crying.

There was a hard rap on my door. Slipping off the bed and throwing on a robe, I went to the door and opened it. Daley stood on the other side. His sandy hair stood up in spikes and he was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. “You need to do something about this!” he demanded.

I felt shy and awkward only half-dressed in front of him. “I don’t know what I can do.”

He ran his hands through his hair, disarranging it even further. “Peter’s a good guy. He’s going to be an even better soldier. I understand how hard it is to forgive . . .” He broke off, a faint flush rising on the ridge of his cheekbone. “A Protector has to put his personal feelings aside and do his job. This thing with Miko is a distraction none of us can afford while we’re at war.”

Despite how his nearness made me tremble, the near constant simmering red at the base of my soul made my voice sharp. “We’re not at war! Arthur and Morgan le Fay haven’t even made a move yet. Maybe they never will.”

Daley’s eyes flickered with the lightning of his power. “We’re always at war. You know, it’s about time someone showed you the truth about what we do here. I’ve been waiting for Taliesin, but . . .” He broke off again, unwilling to say anything bad about the man who’d rescued him from madness and a life on the streets. Daley had come into his power without anyone to guide him and had accidentally killed his mother and step-father. He’d run away and was hiding in a crumbling old asylum where the electricity of his power attracted the ghosts of the former inmates. For her own reasons, the Seer of New York had sent Taliesin to find him.

“Get dressed and meet me in half an hour, but get Peter to shut up, will you—he’s upsetting Ty.” Daley walked away without waiting to see if I’d agreed or not. “And bring Excalibur,” he called over his shoulder.

Sighing, I slumped against the doorframe, acknowledging the faint echo of a heartbeat after my own, something felt more than heard. When Tynan became emotional, more of Mordred—the troubled and murderous young man he’d once been—found its way to the surface.

Apparently I’m not the only one who’s noticed.

After his mother Morgan le Fay stabbed him with Excalibur to awaken his Arthur, I’d created a complicated spell to take the place of his ruined heart. I wasn’t even sure how I’d managed it, even with Daley’s help. Still, as long as my heart kept beating, the magic kept Tynan alive. It tied me to him in uncomfortable ways.

Pulling the belt on my robe tighter, I marched down the hall. Peter wasn’t just my best friend, he was my bonded Protector, which meant he was my responsibility. I’d found out over the last few days that this had meaning to the people here. I was the daughter of Merlin, the Lord of the Grey Lands of Avalon. I was also the daughter of the earth witch Guinevere. Most importantly, I was the current guardian of the greatest totem of earth magic, Excalibur. Peter might be the very newest of the Protector recruits, but since he was mine, he had higher status than many who’d been training all their lives.

I knocked on Miko’s door. “Hey, guys. I know you’re in there. Let me in please.”

I waited a few seconds. Finally, the doorknob turned and the door opened a few inches. Stepping inside, I took in the scene. Miko lay on her bed like a wax doll, her black, translucent wings wrapped tightly around her.

When we first arrived in Las Vegas, I was shocked by the change in the girl. Staring down at her now, I wished with all my heart that the mischievous half-fairy dressed in combat boots and tutus would come back to us. The pale young woman in a white silk robe and jet-black hair pulled into a severe bun was a stranger.

“What happened?” I tried to keep the accusation out of my voice, but from the look on Peter’s face, I didn’t succeed.

“Nothing! We were . . . talking, then she just stopped. She said she was tired. She wrapped herself up in her wings and went to sleep. She didn’t even bother waiting for me to leave. She just closed her eyes as I didn’t exist for her anymore!” He clenched his fists.

I approached the bed then looked back up at Peter in shock. “She’s hardly breathing!” Miko’s face wasn’t just pale—there was actually a hint of bluish-black along the edges of it where her skin met her hair.

Peter unclenched his hands and ran them across his face. “She doesn’t breathe much, not anymore. I seem to be the only one who’s even noticed. Everyone’s too busy telling me to get over it to see what’s happening to her! Taliesin keeps saying she’ll be all right, but I don’t think he really knows.”

I brushed my fingers against the girl’s arm. Her flesh was icy cold. “What were you guys arguing about?”

He took a shuddering breath. “She’s been calling him.”

I didn’t need to ask who “he” was. “Did she say why?”

“She says I can’t help her, that no one here can.”

I gazed down at the girl; she was a dark sleeping beauty. “Maybe she’s right.”

There was silence and then Peter walked out of the room. I could feel just how much I’d hurt him, but maybe Miko’s ex-boyfriend could help her. No one else had been able to.

I touched her arm again; her skin wasn’t just cold, it was hard. Gathering a blanket from the end of the bed, I covered her with it. Maybe the ex-boyfriend wasn’t the only one who knew what it was like to change into something darker and more dangerous. I had to face the truth. I was a leanan sidhe, a thief of the very essence of the soul.

Call it what you like—give it a fancy name and wrap it up with a bow—but Miko and I are both just vampires.

Daley was waiting for me in the grand foyer, and I could tell by the ozone in the air that he’d passed impatience and was now approaching extreme irritation. I’d actually got a bit lost. When the others had referred to this place as a compound, I hadn’t really understood what they meant. It was hard to remember how impressed I’d been with the mansion Taliesin had rented in my home town. This place made it look like a shack in comparison.

Taliesin had to receive some sort of financial compensation for what he did because the Pim Ranch, as it was known locally, must have cost millions. Only ten minutes from the airport and fifteen from the Las Vegas Strip, the ranch sat on ten acres of unnaturally green lawn flanked by a small forest of palm trees.

Inside was the kind of luxury I’d never imagined, and I caught myself more than once thinking how Lacey McInnis would have loved it. There was a library, games room, gym and sauna, twenty car garage, indoor and outdoor pool, basketball court, tennis court, and a gourmet kitchen larger than the house I grew up in.

Not to mention an actual, honest to goodness, friggin’ ballroom, for crying out loud!

Three other buildings dotted the gated property. A guest house and massive stable had been converted into residence-style quarters and training rooms for the Protectors. A slightly smaller building at the back of the property housed the paid staff who kept everything in spotless condition. Peter had told me they were all earth magicians of limited ability.

Most of the local Protectors had their own homes or apartments in the suburbs nearby. Those who lived throughout the world came to the ranch once a year to report to Taliesin, so if needed, the entire compound could be converted to house at least a couple of hundred of them.

As I approached the foyer, I avoided Daley’s stormy eyes by admiring the décor around me. The main palette was tan, gold, and cream, but colorful modern art hung on every spare stretch of wall. A circular gallery ran around the center of the second floor, looking down on the living room and foyer. Taliesin had a wing to himself on that floor. I’d caught a glimpse of him pacing the gallery one night when I couldn’t sleep and was wandering the house myself. I wasn’t sure what the other rooms up there were used for, but I guessed that some had been Rowan’s.

“What took you so long?” Daley didn’t wait for me to answer. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

I looked down at my jeans and leather jacket. “What’s wrong with it?”

He ignored the question. “Where’s Excalibur?”

I concentrated and the sword appeared in its scabbard on my hip. I’d jammed it through my belt, hoping the guard and pommel would keep it from slipping through. “There’s a spell on the scabbard. I just have to think about it and . . .”

“Yes, I gathered that,” Daley interrupted. “But how do you think you’re going to use it wearing it like that?”

Truthfully, I hadn’t really considered ever using Excalibur again after having to slit my wrists with it. Reminded of how I’d almost lost my life to rekindle the sword’s power, I pulled leather gloves out of the pocket of my jacket. Peter’s mom had given them to me and they were long enough to cover the pale scars on my wrists. When Daley’s eyes flickered down to the scars and then darted away, I knew Taliesin had filled him in on the precise details of what I’d done for Excalibur. Pride filled me with a complicated mix of colors and I placed the gloves down on a console table instead. I told myself I didn’t need to be ashamed of what I’d done to awaken Excalibur and that I certainly didn’t need to hide the evidence of it from anyone.

“Take off your jacket and the sword.” Daley’s command caused my colors to dissipate as I refocused on my surroundings. He’d picked up a leather harness from somewhere and was now holding it out impatiently. Shrugging out of my jacket, I put it and the sword in its scabbard on the table.

“Lift your arms.” Obeying, I held my arms out. With a sigh at what I could only guess was his interpretation of my own uselessness, Daley unbuckled my belt and unthreaded it from the loops in my jeans while I concentrated on subduing the inappropriate emotions his detached touch aroused. Seemingly unaware of my discomfort, he ran one strap around my waist, and the other across my chest and over the opposite shoulder to where it attached to the first. He indicated a wide loop on the strap at my waist and I picked up the scabbard and pushed it through.

When I turned experimentally, Excalibur stayed on my hip instead of flapping and banging against it. “That’s so much better! I can actually move with the thing on now.” I concentrated and the sword disappeared.

The corners of his mouth twitched into the barest of answering smiles as he made a few adjustments to the band over my chest. When his fingers brushed the bare skin above the neckline of my t-shirt, electricity danced over my collar bone and I couldn’t stop the involuntary gasp that escaped my lips. Daley went too still and the moment of ease between us was gone.

“I can do it,” I murmured, backing away. Every time I thought that Daley might have feelings for me, he made it clear that he couldn’t forgive me for sending the ghost of his girlfriend Melusine back to where it belonged. He only remembered the young woman he was going to ask to marry him. He’d conveniently forgotten the ghost-dragon who would have peeled the skin off my bones and then swallowed him whole without remorse.

I pulled my jacket back on. “Where are we going?”

But he’d already crossed the foyer into the coat room and didn’t answer until he returned wearing a battered-looking leather jacket of his own. Strangely, he was carrying a wooden sword in one hand. “We’re heading down to the Strip to check things out.”

I glanced at the bank of windows that stretched above the front door up to the second floor. The sky beyond was bright blue. “Do you normally see a lot of action during the day?”

“It’s dark enough inside a casino and not all evil things hide in the night. Pull out your sword.” He brandished his wooden one.

“What?”

“You heard me. Pull out Excalibur.”

“Why?”

He gestured with the practice sword impatiently. “Are you just going to drag it around all the time and never learn to use it? It’s got to be heavy. You need practice pulling it out and lifting it.”

I didn’t answer that Excalibur wasn’t really heavy at all. It had seemed to be when I first quickened it, but I could feel that the sword was now accommodating my muscle strength and height. Lifting it took almost no effort and I hardly ever tripped over it anymore.

Daley saluted me with the practice sword. “En garde.”

“OK,” I muttered. “En garde to you too.” I lifted Excalibur.

And Daley struck it so hard with the wooden sword that I went backwards and landed on my behind on the stone-tiled floor.

“Hey!” I yelped.

His sword came down on the spot my leg had been only milliseconds before.

“Daley! What are you doing?”

He gestured for me to get up. “Do you think a kelpie, or a merrow, or a fachen will wait politely for you to recover before they rip your head off?”

“Well I don’t know what any of those things are, but I’m guessing the answer is no?” I stood gingerly. The real answer was Daley knocking Excalibur from my hands with a blow from the wooden sword. The earth talisman clanged loudly in protest as it bounced across the tiles.

“Again.”

It was a good half hour before Daley decided I would be able to pull Excalibur out of its sheath in a hurry without chopping a finger off. I even managed to counter a couple of strikes from his sword. I flushed orchid with a sense of accomplishment when he declared that even though I wouldn’t be able to stop anything larger than a pixie, it was a good start.

I liked the idea of us starting something.

Flexing my hand to get the stiffness out, I wasn’t really paying attention as we went outside until I noticed what he’d picked out for us to drive.

“Seriously?” I really was surprised. I’d been in Taliesin’s garage, which contained both a fuelling station and a car wash. Just about any of the multitude of luxury vehicles in it would have been more comfortable than the banged up, soccer mom minivan parked on the circular drive in front of us. Daley got in and I reluctantly followed.

“The point is to not draw attention to ourselves,” he said as he navigated the long driveway to the automatic gate and pulled out onto the main road.

“It’s Vegas. I don’t think a Mercedes or something would look out of place. Or anything with heated seats and a good sound system.”

“We’re hunters, not tourists. Besides, I like the roominess. You can pack a lot of things in the back. When we’re done in town, I want to stop at the mall before we come home.” As I continued to stare at him, he frowned. “What?”

“You surprise me, that’s all. I wouldn’t have guessed you were the shopping type.”

Turning the wheel, he glanced over. “Are you kidding? You know what day it is, right?”

It took me a moment. “Christmas Eve. I forgot.”

“Don’t you celebrate Christmas?”

I shrugged. “Sort of. With Peter’s family. But Viviane never wanted anything to do with it. Peter and I opened presents with his parents before we left, so I guess I lost track of the days.” I was reminded of the last present Peter’s mom gave him—a picture of his aunt who’d also been a Protector before she disappeared. I hadn’t seen the photo since we arrived and wondered what Peter had done with it.

“Dad . . .” Daley paused and corrected himself. “Taliesin is neutral on religion, but Rowan always made a big deal out of Christmas.” Daley used the bard’s name in public as if he never forgot that their primary roles were commander and lieutenant rather than father and adopted son. “I want to get something good for Tynan for Christmas. The holidays are going to be hard for him without Rowan. They’ll be hard for all of us.”

I was touched by Daley’s desire to fill the void left by the kind druid, but thoughts of Tynan made me anxious. I was conflicted over the magic I’d created to replace the heart that Morgan le Fay had destroyed. Anxiety crept towards anger as thoughts of Morgan inevitably led to thoughts of her sister Viviane. My real mother had abandoned me. Viviane had hidden me from the knowledge of who and what I truly was. Taliesin only wanted to use me. Daley had rejected me when I practically threw myself at him. Even Thomas Redcap had demanded more than I knew how to give.

Before I knew it, anger turned to fury.

Red seared my sight, forcing me to close my eyes. I sensed a wild, passionate magic which harmonized with the hot colors whirling through me. I was suddenly hungry, so hungry for it. This magic was closer than the spell I’d sensed earlier. As I reached for the tantalizing shades of red, I began to perceive what they could help me do. I just had to reach out with the power I was born with and consume theirs.

“Stop it!”

I opened my eyes, not sure where I was or what I’d been doing. I was hot; as hot as if a bonfire was crackling on the dashboard of the van. With an inarticulate growl, Daley turned on the A/C and the heat began to dissipate. I glanced at him, trying to read the expression on his face. He looked annoyed, but not surprised.

Taliesin must have filled him in on my incendiary tendencies.

Daley was the first to break the awkward silence. “I know I’ve said some things about you—to you—that were . . .” His hands clenched on the wheel and he seemed to change his mind about what he wanted to say. “The thing is, you need to get control over your powers and fast. Haven’t you noticed that we’re falling apart here?” Bright pink sparkled through me. The naked emotion on his face was shocking. “Taliesin has been keeping the world safe for hundreds of years. I’m proud to be his son. We used to be a good team, the best, but now Arthur is awake, Rowan is dead, Miko is turning into I don’t know what, and I’m not even sure who Ty is anymore!”

“And it’s all my fault,” I muttered.

“I know it isn’t, not really, but we’re fighting a war on three fronts now—Arthur, Merlin, and a whole lot of nasty creatures who’d love to carve out a little piece of the kingdom for themselves. And there you are, at the center of it all. Even you’ve got to admit that your allegiance hasn’t been that clear. You can’t blame me if I wish the harp of Binnorie had never found you.”

Icy white doused all other colors and destroyed what had begun to grow between us before we’d left the house. “Well I’m sorry about that, but I’m still trying to figure things out myself! You all keep saying I’m a leanan sidhe. The only thing I know about them is that they’re soul-sucking monsters. I don’t know the first thing about what this ability is, let alone how to control it!”

Daley pulled into a parking lot on a side street behind one of the casinos. Snapping off the A/C and then the engine, he turned in his seat to look at me. “I’ll tell you one thing, Taliesin always said the leanan sidhe were just a myth—that the stories about them were confused tales of encounters with common vampires.”

I snorted. “Isn’t that why we’re here? Because all myths are real?”

“Sometimes a myth is just a myth, or an exaggeration of the truth. The last story, or record, of an actual encounter with a leanan sidhe is ancient. I’m wondering if there’s something deliberate about that.”

“You think it was on purpose?”

He shrugged. “Every member of an entire species of Greylander seems to have just disappeared. It’s possible they’re all behind the Wall, I suppose. But even so, you’re half human—and not just any human—you’re the daughter of the most powerful earth witch ever born. You’re unique. Your powers are going to be unique too.”

I wanted to tell him how Cernunnos, or Merlin now that he’d reclaimed the name he used when posing as counsellor to a young King Arthur, had demanded that I find my mother Guinevere. She was the only one who could free him from his prison in the Grey Lands. Viviane had made the Wall using Guinevere’s spell but was now too weak to do anything about it. The assumption was that since Guinevere had brought us all forward in Time, she must be alive somewhere.

Merlin had forced me to agree to help him by threatening to funnel magic into me until my mind burst and I was nothing but an empty shell. I was heir to his power, but my human half couldn’t contain it, and all the magic I’d unwittingly drawn into myself all my life was killing me. The doctors had told me I had a tumor in my brain, though I wasn’t sure it wasn’t really a black hole leading to a vortex of chaos. One of Avalon’s pink apples was stashed in a drawer in my room, waiting for me to contact Merlin with the news that I had found Guinevere.

I pushed away the desire to tell him everything. Only Peter knew most of the truth, though not some of the more unpleasant details, and nothing about the cancer. If Daley resented me now for being at the center of this conflict, what would he do if he found out I was secretly acting on Merlin’s behalf? I hadn’t actually made any moves to find my mother yet, but I suspected that wouldn’t make much of a difference to him.

Daley sat up straight, squinting at something outside the van.

“What?” All I could see were tourists walking towards a cross street that must lead to the famous Las Vegas Strip.

“There.” He pointed at a young man wearing a hoodie. “Once you know what you’re looking for, false glamour is easy to spot.”

“False?”

“Glamour that isn’t integral to a species, but the result of a spell. It’s a little ragged and uneven on the edges.”

“I can’t see it.”

“Focus.”

I closed my eyes to concentrate and there was an immediate flicker of iridescence across my interior sight. When I opened my eyes, the flicker matched up to the speed and trajectory of the man walking away from us. He glanced over his shoulder in our direction, but didn’t betray any evidence that he realized we were watching him.

“So he’s using glamour. Does that automatically mean he’s bad?”

“No, but it does mean he’s hiding something.” Daley climbed out of the van and I followed, jogging a little to catch up. “It’s not a crime to purchase a glamour spell, but occasionally it means bigger trouble.”

I glanced back at the minivan. “Shouldn’t we pay for parking?”

“The Las Vegas Parking Authority has our license plates on record. We couldn’t operate freely if the mayor wasn’t aware of what we do here.”

“He’s one of us?”

Daley shook his head. “No, but you’d be surprised how many Mundanes know. Just about every major city in the world would have devolved into anarchy years ago without Protectors around.”

The young man was heading west along Paris Drive. I was struggling to keep up with both of them. Daley’s Protector training meant he was in much better shape than I was, even if you didn’t count his magically enhanced Protector physique. Huffing and puffing after him, I vowed to start spending some time in the compound’s gym.

The man glanced over his shoulder again before passing the Paris casino and running across the lanes of traffic on Las Vegas Blvd. Surprisingly quick, he had a strange, loping gait. I recognized the hotel he was heading towards from movies and TV. It was the Bellagio.

“Damn,” Daley muttered under his breath.

“What is it?”

He slowed down for me to catch up. “Do you still have him?”

I nodded. I didn’t need to close my eyes now. I’d locked on to that peculiar iridescence.

Hands on his hips, Daley looked up and down the road in frustration. Tendrils of white lightning spread across his irises as he reached up to grasp the wheel charm on the silver chain around his neck.

“What?” I asked again.

“It’s the friggin’ Bellagio,” he replied, as if that explained everything.

CHAPTER TWO

SCARLET

I waited for the charm to transform into the deadly Wheel of Taranis—the weapon of Daley’s birthright—but he let it go and the lightning in his eyes faded.

“OK, it’s the Bellagio? So what?”

“We have an agreement about the Bellagio.”

“With who?”

Daley ran his hands through his hair. “With one of its owners. Technically it’s owned by a large corporation, but there’s a silent partner who’s kept a major stake in it. I don’t know who it is. We’re supposed to stay out.”

“So we’re done then?”

I was beginning to recognize that stubborn look. “No. We just need to make sure there’s a real threat before we act.”

“And if there is? What are we supposed to do exactly?”

Daley gestured to where he knew Excalibur lay invisible on my hip. “We kill it, if necessary. Is that going to be a problem?”

Uh, yeah.

“No,” I said.

“Good. Follow my lead and try not to draw attention to yourself.” His eyes narrowed. “And take down your hair.”

“Why?” I asked, even as I obeyed and pulled my hair out of its ponytail. Without the restraint of the band I’d tortured it into earlier, my hair reclaimed its usual slightly wild state.

“You look a little older with it down. The legal gambling age here is 21. You can’t even linger on the casino floor if you’re younger than that. I think you’ll pass, but stay in the common areas if you can. And remind me to arrange a fake ID for you when we get back.” Daley frowned when I couldn’t help smirking, but I didn’t explain.

I already have one fake birth certificate saying I’m eighteen, why not a fake ID pushing me up into my twenties? At this rate, I’ll be collecting old age pension before I reach thirty!

I followed Daley across the street and past the Bellagio’s famous fountains to the main entrance. A revolving glass door ushered us into the hotel where I couldn’t help staring in wonder at the giant glass flowers covering the ceiling of the lobby in wild hues like the psychedelic dream of a demented gardener. I could barely comprehend it, but Daley didn’t spare it a glance.

“I’ve lost him. Can you see the glamour, you know, the way you see things?”

The riot of color hovering over my head was disorienting “I don’t know.”

“Concentrate.”

“I’m trying!”

I finally caught a slight glimmer. “There.” I pointed to the right of the reception area where crowds of people were also heading.

“Great. The Conservatory. It’ll be packed with tourists.”

We passed between massive pillars into the Conservatory. All the hotels and casinos along the Las Vegas Strip were decorated extravagantly for the holidays and the Bellagio was no exception. Giant nutcrackers stood sentinel by a Christmas tree that dwarfed them. Flying Reindeer danced over their heads between cascading gold bells. On the ground, tumbling polar bears were constructed from white carnations and poinsettias in every possible color blanketed everything but the pathways. The smell was earthy, heady, and distracting.

Another brief sense of iridescence caught my attention, but it was difficult to focus on. This particular glamour seemed intended to cause someone to have difficulty retaining awareness of the bearer. I’d lived most of my life under a similar sort of spell. Using that knowledge, I concentrated on finding the ragged, vulnerable edge of the glamour. When I found it and pulled, the magic surged into me. I had to fight against the temptation to disappear, but I held firm until it dissipated, breaking apart into colorless sparks. It was surprising how little resistance I encountered, almost as if the glamour wanted to be taken.

Something now danced between the polar bears, something very out of place in this child’s dream of Christmas. Instead of the velvet texture of flower petals, and the bright glitter of ornaments, this thing was hard, dry, and cracked. I pushed through a group of children to get closer, ignoring their cries of dismay that I was blocking their view.

An electric tingle along my spine told me Daley was close behind me, but I didn’t dare take my eyes off the spot I’d last seen movement. For a long moment there was nothing. Then, in a sudden flurry of motion, I saw empty eye sockets and a long, bony jaw dripping ribbons of red.

“There.” I pointed. “Do you see it? That’s our guy there, behind the bears, only, it’s not a guy.”

Another round of movement that seemed to take the creature in and out of reality, and then it stopped and looked right at me.

Or at least it would be looking at me, if it had eyes.

The skeleton of a horse pawed the ground, ribbons of red fire falling from its jaws; it was both terrifying and profoundly alien. I was mesmerized.

The voices of the children crying in fear brought me back to myself.

Daley grabbed my arm. “You took the glamour off?” I nodded. “Can you put it back on? We’re going to have a panic here in a moment.”

“I’ll try.” I concentrated on the desire to hide and searched inside for duplicates of the colors I remembered. After a few moments of effort, something barely tangible glimmered in my hands and I tossed it at the creature. The spell wasn’t exact, but it was enough to mostly mask the thing from the sight of the children. Adults had come to collect them, murmuring softly, lying to them as adults always do that there are no monsters under the bed.

Since it was my spell, I could still see the skeleton beneath it, but I was somewhat proud of what I’d created. It had been as simple as using my own memories and emotions to help me call up similar colors which were really similar magics that I’d unwittingly stolen and stored through the years. Then I just tried to re-create the design of the original spell as closely as I could. I knew it was imperfect. It was like trying to re-create a masterpiece with a paint by numbers set, but luckily, the spell wasn’t that sophisticated.

Now that I’d opened my senses to it, I could detect glamour throughout the entire hotel. It sparkled and flashed, daring me to consume it. I knew the ulterior motive was to convince tourists to stay and drop as much cash in the casino as possible, but I couldn’t help being entranced. “It’s so beautiful. There’s magic everywhere.”

But Daley had shut himself off from wonder the day his girlfriend Melusine was shot in the street not too far from the hotel.

“Keep your eyes on that thing!” he barked. I’d masked the creature with glamour, but hadn’t known how to replace the image of the young man. Daley now couldn’t see it at all.

“It’s not moving.” Even though it looked ghoulish, perhaps it was harmless.

Then the creature jumped.

I was spun around by a blow that caught me on the side of my body and pushed me into a bed of poinsettias, Excalibur’s scabbard banging hard against my thigh.

“Where is it?” Daley yelled.

“There!” I clawed at my spell and peeled some away, revealing a glimpse of white bone that was enough for Daley to follow.

A flare of pain on my right side made me pull up my t-shirt to reveal an angry burn on my waist where the cloth had rode up when I fell. A tendril of fire must have lashed me as the creature ran by. Wincing as I pulled the shirt back down, I got up and ran after Daley.

The creature had backtracked through the lobby and into the gaming area. Weaving through rows of slot machines, it turned and grinned at me with its gaping jaw and curved teeth. Fire dripped from its mouth, but since no gambling senior citizens were immolated, its burn appeared to be selective.

Daley’s haste had drawn the attention of a security guard. As I opened my mouth to warn him, a hand clamped down on my shoulder.

“Can I see some ID, Miss?”

So much for the change in hairdo.

My shoulder was released so I could turn around. The man was dressed in a suit, but I could see the gun in the holster under his jacket as he dropped his arm. “ID, please,” he repeated and then stiffened as Daley was escorted our way by a tree-sized guard. My heart sank when I saw the wickedly serrated knife in the guard’s hand. He must have taken it off Daley, who was now sporting a set of handcuffs instead. My guy put his hand on his gun.

Bony jaw grinning, the creature disappeared into the crowd.

“It’s OK, Martin. The lass is with me.” That lilting accent. That peculiar twist of the voice that always made it sound like he was smiling, even when he was deadly serious.

Thomas Redcap.

I almost didn’t recognize him without his cap. The elegant suit and crisp, white shirt were a surprise as well. Despite being more formally dressed, he looked younger, probably because his baseball cap always added shadows under his eyes. Still, I kind of missed it.

Because he looks like a stranger.

The man he’d called Martin hesitated with his hand over his weapon. “Sorry, Mr. Ruadh, but the girl’s underage and it looks like her friend was carrying a concealed weapon.”

Redcap’s smile was friendly, but it was directed at the man—he hadn’t looked at me once. “I can vouch she’s legal, Martin, since she’s a cousin from this side of the pond. I was just coming to treat her to lunch at Le Cirque.” The man relaxed as Redcap leaned in to give me a kiss on the cheek. “Sorry I was held up, love. I should have been here to meet you.” Redcap’s lips didn’t connect with my skin, and when he straightened, his eyes slid across my face as if they didn’t want to touch me either. A mottled grey and red feeling filled me—shame over the things I’d said to him the last time we saw one another, and the strange mixture of comfort, repugnance, and attraction that always made me so confused around him.

From the cold look on his face, he hadn’t forgotten a single word of the terrible, awful things I’d said either.

“What about this guy?” the other guard asked, jerking on Daley’s jacket. Daley wisely kept silent.

Redcap snorted. “The boyfriend none of the family approves of, of course.”

The guard held up the knife and light reflected off the elaborate design on the metal hilt. “He was carrying this. They were both chasing someone.”

“Young people today are always in so much of a hurry.” Maybe it was a trick of the light, or the effect of his accent and odd way of speaking, but now Redcap looked older again, almost fatherly. “I’d arranged to purchase the knife for my own collection. The boy is something of an antique hound, but now that I see it, I think he was deceived as to its age. Still, it’s a pretty thing.” He shook his head at Daley. “You should have known better than to bring it into the hotel.”

“Sorry, sir,” Daley said humbly, though his eyes flashed with lightning.

I’m amazed the words don’t burn his mouth on the way out.

The man called Martin motioned for the other guard to take the handcuffs off. “I’ll take your word on it, Mr. Ruadh, but you’d better go up and clear it with the boss before I make my report. You can pick up your property when you’re ready to leave the building.”

I got the sense that Redcap wasn’t pleased by the way his smile slipped ever so slightly. “Sounds reasonable. Is she in a good mood today?”

Martin chuckled as he nodded for the other guard to go. “She’s generally in a good mood for you, Mr. Ruadh. Except for when she isn’t.”

Redcap grimaced. “Right you are. Lambs to the slaughter then.” The two men chatted pleasantly as Daley and I followed them down a broad hallway to a private elevator. Martin punched a code into a keypad and the door slid open. We ascended several floors, and then the elevator opened onto a marble foyer bounded by a frosted glass wall.

A young woman sitting at a clear glass desk looked up from her laptop. “Hello, Mr. Martin,” she said brightly. “Everything quiet on the floor today?” Her smile widened when she noticed Redcap. “Mr. Ruadh! We haven’t seen you here in ages.”

“Hello, Iris. Can you let the boss know I’ve brought a couple of friends to meet her?”

“Of course.” The girl pressed a button on the phone on her desk and spoke quietly into the receiver. Nodding, she gestured for us to proceed. “She has a break in her schedule and would love to see you.”

Martin backed up into the elevator. “Well, that’s me safely out of it. Good luck, Mr. Ruadh. I’ll leave the knife with the concierge.”

“Thanks. Sorry for all the fuss.” Redcap pushed on a section of glass and it swung open on nearly invisible hinges; he obviously knew his way around the place.

“Ruadh?” I murmured as he held the door for me to pass.

His smile was cool and impersonal. “The name I use in polite society. Ruadh is Gaelic for red.”

We entered a spacious office with a glass conference table on one side, and several couches and chairs on the other. Beyond them, another glass desk continued the theme of transparency. And beyond it, a wall of glass showed the sky above the other hotels on the Strip. A woman stood with her back to us, gazing at the scene. I was reminded of my trip to Goodfellow’s apartment, but another look around reassured me that I hadn’t travelled through a disguised Path, and that I was still in the city and time I expected to be.

The woman turned languidly and I immediately felt underdressed, under coiffed, under everything. Wearing a purple sheath dress cut to skim every curve, she was heavily made up with liquid liner framing her almond-shaped eyes and her lips were stained deep plum. High cheekbones and a nose that was a touch too big for her face were framed by close-cropped, black hair. There was nothing masculine about the cut. It balanced the strength of her features, paring them down until she wasn’t quite beautiful, but incredibly arresting.

Actually, smokin’ hot sexy.

No one spoke. The woman placed a long-nailed hand on her hip and quirked an eyebrow at Redcap. Sighing, he gestured from me to her. “Rhiannon, please allow me to present Cleopatra Thea Philopator.” He turned to look directly at me for the first time. “My wife.”

CHAPTER THREE

GARNET

I wasn’t sure which word was harder to grasp, wife or Cleopatra.

Cuz both of them are impossible.

“Ex-wife,” the woman drawled.

Though Redcap laughed, I got the sense he’d deliberately tried to shock me. “Sorry, love. Old habits die hard. Divorce used to be forbidden, or at the least, quite difficult to arrange. I keep forgetting that times have changed.”

The woman sat down in the leather chair behind the desk and crossed her legs. Picking up a pen, she balanced it between two fingers. “So this is the girl who’s been causing so much trouble.” The comment was directed at Redcap in a less friendly tone.

Daley took a step forward. “Rhiannon is under Taliesin’s protection. If you have a problem with that, you can take it up with him.” His defense surprised me.

Cleopatra dropped the pen and leaned forward on the desk. “Who said I had a problem with it? What I have is an agreement with your people, earth magician. You’re not welcome on my property.” A sudden movement brought her to her feet and she practically glided over to look at Daley closely. “But you’re not an earth magician. You do, however, look familiar. Have we met before?”

“No.”

“Perhaps when you were younger?”

“I would remember.”

The woman smiled. “Still, there’s something about your face . . .” She stiffened. “You’re the storm god’s son.”

“I’m not his son.”

She waved his objection away. “It doesn’t matter how many generations there are between you, you’re his son in all the ways that matter.” Tapping her finger against her bottom lip, she narrowed her eyes at him. “You resent your gift, and you resent your progenitor more for not being here to guide you. Without him, you’re not sure what you really are. Perhaps I could help you find the answer. I knew Einridi a little, long ago. We were friends.” Meaning overlaid the word and I could feel my face grow warm. What really surprised me was the faint flush on Daley’s cheeks.

Redcap chuckled. “There isn’t a man alive that Cleo can’t read like an open book. She can ferret out all the small lies we men tell ourselves. It makes for an uncomfortable marriage.” His tone was mocking but affectionate.

Smiling, she raised an eyebrow at Redcap. “Perhaps why none of them lasted much past the honeymoon. Still, there’s no point in not remaining friends.” The woman focused her attention on me. “But Thomas knows I have no true magical power. The only gift I inherited from my Greylander father was my long life. Relationships with great men were once my political stepping stones, but eventually, they crumbled beneath my feet.”

“I thought the story was that Cleopatra killed herself,” I blurted, “and how the heck did you and Redcap meet?”

She looked at Redcap. “Shall I tell my tale of woe then?’

“Cleo . . .” he murmured, but she laughed and turned away.

Her tone was light, but I could tell it was false. “Don’t you know that history is written by the victors? After my husband Marc Antony died in my arms, my handmaiden helped me to escape Egypt.” She nodded towards the outer office. “The girl you met outside is a many generations removed descendent of the original Iris. The emperor Octavian spread the lie that I’d committed suicide rather than let the world know that a mere woman had eluded him, so I travelled north to Britain. I knew the route from my discussions with Julius Caesar’s about his campaign there. Settling in Ireland, I adopted the identity of the sorceress Carman to build an army to reclaim my throne, but when I heard that my eldest son had been killed by Octavian and my other children given to the emperor’s wife, I lost heart for it and forgot who I once was. After many generations—and a couple of advantageous marriages that left me a widow with a large fortune—I met Thomas.”

“Celebrating the coronation of Queen Victoria in a Belfast pub,” he reminded her.

“A very nice pub,” she drawled. She looked at me from under shadowed eyelids. “But sadly for me, our union lasted only slightly longer than the queen’s celebrations did.”

Redcap smiled. “Marriages entered into after consuming copious amounts of ale were never meant to last, but I also never regretted a moment of our time together.” The man seemed intent on sending me the message that I was the least interesting woman he’d ever met compared to the great Cleopatra.

She made a dramatic movement with her arms to indicate the world beyond the glass. “I discovered a desire to reclaim my identity, at least in part. I came to America and became Cleopatra again, though I modernized it a little to Cleo Philemon.”

Redcap inclined his head towards her in a gesture of respect. “And have become truly powerful in your own right.”

Instead of being pleased at the compliment, a shadow crossed her face and her arms dropped heavily to her sides. Underneath the proud, almost-gold of confidence in the woman lurked the mottled colors of insecurity. “You know I always enjoy your visits, Thomas, but I actually have a meeting now that I can’t miss. Why didn’t you let me know you were in town?” She was all business now.

He shrugged. “I didn’t want to bother you. I know how busy the Christmas season is around here. I also know you don’t like Taliesin’s people in the Bellagio, so when I saw these two, I thought I’d make sure they didn’t get into any trouble.”

“I see.” Her voice was too neutral. The casino had to be covered in security cameras. She probably already knew that Redcap wasn’t telling her everything. “Where are you staying then?”

“Just a place by the airport.”

“You’ll stay here. Iris will make the arrangements.”

“You don’t have to do that, love.”

“Nonsense. Besides, I wouldn’t mind keeping you close in case my New Year’s Eve plans fall through.” Redcap laughed, but I would have laid bets she was serious.

Cleo turned to Daley. “Contact me if you want to find the storm god. I have access to resources which the bard does not.”

“Thanks,” he murmured.

Suddenly intent, she darted towards me. “I need to speak with you privately . . .” Then something caught her eyes and her expression became closed and impersonal. “My business associate has arrived. He’s catching a plane this afternoon for New Orleans so we’ll need to finish this up some other time.”

“OK,” was all I could think to mumble, wondering what she could possibly want, but then I remembered Miko’s words from what seemed like an eternity ago.

Everyone is going to try to use you to their advantage.

Cleopatra nodded for someone to enter and an extremely tall man with a shock of red hair strode into the room. Beside him was a young girl with tangled blonde hair streaming out from under a newsboy cap.

I glanced over at Redcap when I heard the hiss of his indrawn breath, but his face was impassive. “Belenos,” he said with a slight bow.

The man ignored him. “Really, Cleo, if you make me miss my flight, there’ll be hell to pay.” He had a British accent.

There was a spark of defiance in the woman’s eyes, but her smile was smooth and welcoming. “My friends were just leaving.” Cleopatra kissed Redcap lightly on the cheek, but evaded his questioning gaze.

The young girl stared at me as we passed her. When I turned back, she was still watching, but then the door swung shut and separated us.

Iris rose from her desk with an expectant smile, but Redcap waved her away. “Please let the boss know that while I appreciate her kind offer, I won’t be taking her up on it.” He crossed the room and pressed the button for the elevator.

The girl looked distressed. “But Mr. Ruadh, you know she doesn’t like being crossed.”

The elevator doors slid open. “Don’t worry. She never stays mad at me for long.” Ignoring the girl’s protests and giving her a wink, Redcap entered the elevator and Daley and I followed.

“Blast it,” he murmured once the doors closed. “The Mari Lwyd is probably long gone.”

“So you saw it too? The Mah-ree-loo-ed?” I stressed the syllables to make sure I’d heard him correctly.

Redcap nodded. “Grey Mare is the translation, though it has nothing to do with the Grey Lands.”

“Do you mean that thing we were following?” Daley asked.

“Yes. I was in town for,”—he glanced at me—“other reasons, but I caught a whiff of it, magically speaking. Something in me recognized the scent and told me to follow it. I ended up here. I was just debating whether it was worth getting on my ex-wife’s radar when I saw the two of you. I check in on her every couple of years to make sure she’s staying in line, but I wasn’t due for months yet.” His laugh was rueful but still a little fond. “Cleo is a complicated and infuriating woman, but life is never dull around her. I wonder what she could possibly be doing with Belenos.”

The elevator reached the ground floor. Ignoring the dark emerald jealousy spiking through me, I stepped out first. “So what is this Mari Lwyd thing then? Something bad? It burned me.”

Redcap followed. “Not evil. Not good either. Not even properly alive, at least in the way most would understand it.”

Daley was staring down the hall, alert to any possible threat. “Like Excalibur?”

Redcap shrugged again. “More alive than Excalibur, but with less free will than other sentient beings. The Mari Lwyd is a portent, a harbinger, a thing of magic. There hasn’t been a confirmed sighting of it in at least a hundred years. Think of it as an aspect of the earth magic, a message from whatever element has claimed it. For it to appear so soon after the quickening of Excalibur, well, I doubt it’s a coincidence. It must have some purpose for appearing after all this time, and yet it places a glamour on itself so it can’t be seen by just anyone. . .” He and Daley shared a look.

And then they both looked at me.

The sharp orange of irritation prompted me to blurt, “What’s the difference between Greylander and earth magic anyway? It all looks the same to me. ”

Daley frowned. “It’s different.”

“Not to me.”

Tendrils of lightning flashed through his eyes. “Well, you don’t really know that much about it.”

Redcap’s snort of laughter eased the tension. “Maybe Rhi’s right. If there’s some essential difference between the two, other than bloodlines, I’m not sure what it is. What you can trust is that the Mari Lwyd’s appearance is somehow linked to the deadly belt ornament she’s got on.”

I grabbed Excalibur’s hilt. The sword and scabbard were still invisible, but somehow, Redcap could see them. I probably shouldn’t have been so surprised.

Redcap seems to be able to see into my soul. Why not the magic that ate a bit of it?

I might have spent more time dissecting that thought if a ribbon of red fire hadn’t caught my eye. The Mari Lwyd stood at the end of the hallway, bones gleaming, shaking its head the way a live horse would shake its mane. I was just about to shout to the others, when the creature’s voice entered my mind.

There is something I must show only you. This is why I was sullied with glamour to evade all other eyes. This is why I have led you here. But not now. Not while the soul eater and the lightning bringer are present. I will find you again.

It was more images than words, but the meaning was clear. Then the Mari Lwyd disappeared.

Redcap was watching me. “Miss Lynne?”

“It’s Rhiannon Caerleon now,” I replied, evading the question, and wishing he would call me mo leanabh as he used to.

“Rhi,” he amended, “is something wrong?” His tone was courteous, but his eyes were cold, reminding me of the terrible things I’d said to him when we were last together. There was no forgiveness in him.

I stifled a sigh. “No. The creature’s gone. We might as well go too.”

“Right then. This is more Taliesin’s territory than mine anyway.”

Daley frowned. “Then why were you following it in the first place?”

Redcap shook his head. “Not here.” He walked away.

Daley and I shared a look and I knew we were in agreement. We followed Redcap to the lobby where he retrieved Daley’s knife from the concierge and gave it back to him, and then outside past the Bellagio’s fountains. On the walkway well off the property, Redcap finally answered. The crowds eddied around us, but he didn’t lower his voice; they weren’t the ones he was worried about overhearing.

“I think you understand that when a Great One falls, I take a part of them into myself. What those outside my race don’t know is that all this knowledge, all these essences, were never meant to reside within one person. As my people had sons and daughters, the fragments of souls within were passed on, becoming less cohesive, less aware. It was a burden shared by all, which benefited all. Thousands of years of wisdom and experience could be shared among an entire people, but we were too thirsty for war and it led to our extinction. As far as I can tell, I’m the last of my kind. I have no one to share the burden with or to pass it on to when I die. With each new Great One I take into myself, the pressure becomes greater. The essences inside me are more complete, more demanding than any other redcap has ever endured.”

A gust of wind caught a lock of his hair and pushed it over his forehead, glinting in the sun with the same red as his eyes. I wanted to reach out and brush it away. As if he could hear my thoughts, Thomas Redcap looked at me and I knew his feelings for me hadn’t gone cold. With emotion naked on his face, he seemed vulnerable and young—the youngest and last of an ancient people.

As lost and alone as I am.

When Daley broke the silence, I sensed his mauve discomfort. “What are you trying to tell us?”

But Redcap could only see me. “Because of what happened to my people, I made a vow to never use my abilities beyond being a living catalogue of magic users. I’ve resisted the temptation to violate the privacy of the essences inside for my own gain—I suspect Cleo only married me hoping I would—but I can’t always ignore their voices. I contain a Great One who once encountered the Mari Lywd. The fragment of his essence is so old that I don’t know who he once was, but he’s been shouting at me ever since I caught sense of the creature.” I could feel distress streaming off him in hot, wild colors. “The Great One kept screaming until I saw you, Rhiannon Caerleon.”

Daley’s voice was unexpectedly gentle. “What did he say?”

Redcap’s eyes flared red. “Have mercy on us, Child of Blood. Have pity on us, oh thou Destroyer of Worlds.”

CHAPTER FOUR

CARDINAL

I bet somewhere, a gold harp with the soul of a girl in it is saying I told you so.

Despite the good idea of a day of training turning into a fiasco—and Redcap spouting Binnorie’s prophesy about me—Daley still insisted on stopping at a local mall on the way back home. Leaving me at the food court, he disappeared into the crowd of last minute Christmas shoppers. After less than an hour, I couldn’t bear the crush of people anymore. They could all see me now, really see me. It was probably my imagination, but everyone seemed to be watching me, wondering why I was sitting alone. I longed to hide again under Viviane’s binding spell, to forget who and what I was and make the rest of the world forget too.

I was a fool to ever want to be noticed.

In the throes of a full-blown panic attack, I pushed through the crowd until I found an exit. Outside, the air was cool and soothing. When I calmed down, I realized I was on the opposite side of the mall from where we’d parked. Retracing my steps back inside, I passed a small stall where a local artisan was selling wreaths. Some bowed to the local foliage and were fashioned from palm leaves woven together, but others were the traditional evergreen type. When I brushed my fingers against them, I was surprised to find they were real. A quick look at the price tag showed the rarity of the material in this climate, but most prices had been knocked down for the last hours of Christmas Eve shopping.

A lush one caught my eye; the needles were an unearthly, almost-turquoise. Several blue spruces were planted behind Peter’s house and I’d always loved them and the way they stood out from the drabber green of all the other trees. This wreath was large, but plain, and the only adornments were thin branches of holly woven through, stripped of leaves but not the red berries. The bright red against the blue-green gave the wreath a more modern look. I remembered Goodfellow had told me that holly provided protection and enhanced dreams, but I wondered if taking the leaves off had destroyed its power.

“The berries are real,” the woman behind the stall said. “You have to keep them away from any pets though because they’re poisonous, but they’ll keep their color through till January.” On impulse, I decided to buy it, even if it was only decorative and had no magic in it. The woman wrapped the wreath carefully in a white bag tied at the top with some twine. As I carried it back into the mall, I realized that the simple act of buying my very first Christmas decoration made me feel part of the world around me. I didn’t need to hide. I could blend in if I tried.

When Daley finally met me back at the food court an hour later, he was carrying a number of his own bags, including a heavy-looking one with the logo of an electronics store on it. Noticing the plate of fast food Chinese on the tray in front of me, he grimaced. “That stuff’ll kill you. It also looks amazing.”

“Do you want it? I’m full already.” The truth was that food didn’t satisfy me the way it used to; there was no color to it.

“Are you sure?”

I pushed the tray over in response and he began to dig into the noodles and stir-fry. “What did you get?” I asked, but he shrugged and didn’t answer. “I got a wreath for the house.”

Daley stopped chewing and looked at me. “That was nice,” he said finally.

His scrutiny gave me the uncomfortable feeling that I’d done something wrong. “I just thought we should have something. I’ve never bought a wreath before. I hope it’s OK.”

“I’m sure it will be.” He gestured around us with the fork. “You know, we used to come here all the time. I liked Chinese but Ty always went for the pizza.”

I laughed before I realized he was serious. “Sorry. I guess I just thought of you guys with Taliesin all the time, travelling around the world fighting the good fight. I never thought of you as mall rats.”

He reached out and picked up the drink I’d also abandoned. “We were teenagers,” he said between sips, “and I wanted out of that house. I even went to the local high school for a while until all my absences forced Rowan to start home-schooling me. Tynan preferred it that way, but I . . .” He put the drink down. “I used to come here alone sometimes when everyone else thought I was up in my room studying.”

“Why?”

Daley was watching a girl and a boy two tables away. By the way they were giggling and leaning toward each other, they weren’t brother and sister. “I wanted to feel normal. I was the first person in generations to be born with the storm god’s power and the entire community of magic users on earth all had expectations that I would become something important. No one cared what I wanted. I would have given all my power away to just be normal. I would have given my life to bring my mother back, even my step-father.” His eyes were still on the young couple, but he seemed very far away.

I was just about to tell him that I understood, that I was probably the only person who truly understood, when he whispered, “Melusine made me feel normal.”

And there it was again, the wedge that was always between us. “Daley . . .” I started to say, but he stood abruptly and started clearing the remains of the food away. Something in his face told me not to try to continue the discussion as I trailed behind him out of the mall and to the van.

On the short drive back to the compound, Daley was so tense that I couldn’t help wondering which he was regretting more—buying presents for a celebration that was sure to fail without Rowan or slipping up and letting me see behind the hard mask he always wore. As we parked and walked up to the front door, I realized I’d also mistake. I’d intended to hang the wreath on its smooth surface, but had no idea how. I followed Daley inside where we both hesitated awkwardly in the foyer, unsure of how best to end our disastrous outing together. It was how I imagined the end of a date would feel if you weren’t sure whether you were going to be kissed or offered a brotherly hug.

Yeah, just like a date. The worst date ever.

Daley put his bags down and ran his hand through his hair. “Well, I guess we both know that wasn’t exactly what I had in mind for today.” He seemed embarrassed.

“It’s OK.”

“It’s not.” He looked away. “None of it is. This isn’t what you thought you were signing on for when you agreed to come here.”

“I don’t know what I expected.”

A muscle moved in his jaw as he stared at me, then he shook his head. “Maybe it’s because of the binding spell Viviane put on you, but I never know if you’re telling the truth.”

I was almost too surprised to respond. My thoughts and feelings were so chaotic—so colorful—that I couldn’t understand how everyone wasn’t seeing them. The thought that I was blank and opaque to everyone other than Peter made me feel both mildly depressed and strangely powerful.

“OK,” I admitted, “this isn’t what I expected. I thought Taliesin would help me figure out my abilities, but I guess I’m just going to have to do that on my own.”

Nodding, Daley looked thoughtful. “You did pretty well with that glamour. Except for sidhe—fairies—and a few other beings with inherent glamour, those kinds of spells are tricky. The leanan sidhe were said to have glamour so it makes sense, but you were able to separate it from yourself and cast it on to something else. It was impressive.”

I warmed peach at the compliment. “Thanks, but I’ve got so much I need to learn and I don’t think Taliesin has the answers.”

“Maybe not.” I could tell it cost him to admit even the slightest disloyalty towards his father.

“But I do want you to train me.” I patted the hilt of Excalibur, grateful for the feel of it even though it was invisible. “And I want to learn how to use a sword.”

Now I couldn’t read his expression. Concentrating hard, I had the impression that there’d been a slight change in the colors that identified him to me. Then he smiled—it wasn’t much of a smile, just the barest lift of his lips—and I knew for sure that something had shifted between us. Maybe Daley hadn’t meant to open up to me at the mall, but he had, and something had eased between us because of it.

He nodded. “I think that’s a good idea. Until you have control over your abilities, you might need to know how to protect yourself. You might as well make the best use of your time while you’re here.”

The warmth drained out of me. It didn’t sound like he expected or wanted me to stay in Las Vegas indefinitely. The skin around my eyes ached and I knew that tears were perilously close behind. I brandished the bag containing the wreath. “I’m going to take this to Taliesin to see where he wants me to put it.”

Daley re-adjusted his purchases and began to walk towards the bedrooms, calling over his shoulder, “I have to make an official report, but you should tell him about the Mari Lwyd. And we have Christmas dinner at midnight. Try not to eat too much before then. Cook will be insulted if everyone doesn’t stuff themselves into a food coma.”

I laughed. Something had changed between us, even if the change was small. Maybe, eventually, it would grow large enough for him to want me to stay.

As Daley disappeared down the corridor, I briefly considered abandoning the idea of going up to see Taliesin, but I didn’t want any hint of a lie interfering with the slight thaw in our relationship—especially not over something as minor as being afraid to disturb the grieving bard. The grand staircase across from the foyer led to the second floor and Taliesin’s personal rooms. Gathering my courage, I went up the stairs to Taliesin’s office and knocked on the door.

A slight shuffling noise told me the bard was there, but it was a full count of ten before he answered, “Come.”

As I went in, I was hit by the contrast to the man who’d interviewed me in the office of the rented mansion in my home town. That Taliesin had been handsome, trim, and palpably powerful. This Taliesin sitting behind his desk was red-eyed, unshaven, and unkempt. He was still powerful, but I didn’t need to concentrate too hard to sense the streaks of grey despair running through his aura like a disease.

“I don’t understand you!” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

The side of his mouth quirked into the barest of smiles, a ghost of his former vitality. “And a Happy Christmas Eve to you too, Rhiannon.”

I could feel my cheeks grow hot. “Sorry, I was just thinking out loud.” It was an apology, but what I’d been thinking wasn’t complimentary and we both knew it.

The bard sighed. “If it helps, please know that I don’t understand you either.”

I forced a laugh. “I’m not so complicated.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you not? Perhaps it is an aftereffect of the spell Viviane placed on you, but I cannot guess what you are thinking or feeling, or what your true desires are, and I have always been a good judge of character. I cannot tell where your loyalties or even your friendships lie. I do not feel that you are truly one of us. You are a cipher to me.”

As he echoed Daley’s sentiment, I wondered if Viviane’s binding spell, which had made me almost invisible to the world, had damaged me irreparably.

Perhaps I should have given the bard some comfort by admitting he was uncomfortably near to the truth, but I honestly didn’t feel I owed him that. I’d come to Las Vegas to follow the man everyone said was the one to unite all magic users, even Greylanders, under a common banner of cooperation with the rest of humanity. What I’d found was a man as bound by his love for Morgana as she was to Arthur. Without her, he was crumbling. Daley and the others had known the great warrior-bard Taliesin, famed through history. All I’d known was a cold, imperious, and finally, broken man.

“I miss Rowan,” I admitted instead. Perhaps Rowan’s kindness and quiet confidence had reflected a warmth onto the man which Taliesin had never truly possessed on his own.

The bard’s expression didn’t change. If he’d been touched by the mention of his friend, there was no sign of it and I felt a flash of jealous emerald in honor of the druid’s memory.

Rowan should be haunting him as well as Boudica.

Ruby clawed through the emerald as I thought of how Boudica had murdered her husband. It didn’t help my mood that Taliesin seemed to have forgotten everything except his lost love, Morgan le Fay. As my emotions grew hotter, an answering power full of the passion of life and the rage of battle called to me again from somewhere beyond the house. It wasn’t too far away. All I needed to do was cast away any resistance and it would come and fill me. Its siren call was becoming almost irresistible.

I dragged my awareness away from the power calling to me. I couldn’t lose control in front of the bard again. As an excuse, I pulled the wreath out of the bag I was carrying. “I thought this would brighten the place up a bit for Christmas, but I don’t know where I should put it.”

The bard barely glanced at it. “There’s a small hook on the top of the mantle over the fireplace in the great room. You could hang it there if you wish.”

Nodding, I stood to leave and then hesitated. “While I was out with Daley, we ran into something called a Mari Lwyd.” The flicker of interest in the bard’s eyes prompted me to continue. “We followed it into the Bellagio. Thomas Redcap was following it too. He was the one who told us what it was.”

The bard looked thoughtful. “How strange. Back home in Wales, boys used to dress up as the Mari Lwyd and go from door to door through the Christmas season, singing for food and drink. It was a joyous custom that is still remembered in some villages today, though even when I was a child, it was already very old.”

“Redcap called it a portent.”

“Perhaps. The origin of the custom is so lost in history that I never guessed it might be based on an actual being. Considering Redcap’s special ability, his knowledge of it could indeed be greater than mine.” He looked at me strangely. “Scholars believe that the custom of honoring the Mari Lwyd was once part of a ritual concerning your namesake, the goddess Rhiannon. Some say that she and Epona, the horse goddess, were the same entity.”

I remembered reading about Rhiannon during one of my online sessions seeking to improve my grasp on the whole spectrum of Celtic mythology—particularly since I’d learned that most of it was true. I also remembered that there was some disagreement in the stories as to whether the original Rhiannon was a goddess or just a queen. “Was she a Greylander?”

“Possibly, but I have never met anyone claiming that name, so perhaps not. She was more likely an earth magician with enough power to stamp her image on history, but not to escape mortality.”

“So why did my mother name me after her? Does it have something to do with the earth magic?”

“Earth magic is, quite literally, everything. Every living soul on this planet shares in the magic if only in the slightest, almost imperceptible degree. It is the fire at the heart of the world, but not everything is merely a reflection of its flame. Your name may have no meaning other than the simple achievement of a pleasing combination of vowels and consonants.”

I nodded as if I agreed, but privately wondered if there’d been a purpose to my name that neither of us yet knew. “And what about the horse skeleton thing we saw? What should we do about it?”

“As to the Mari Lwyd, there is also likely no reason for concern. It will disappear at the end of the season as it has in ages past.” Taliesin slumped back into his chair, all interest exhausted. He looked so tired that I regretted bothering him. The man had protected mankind for hundreds of years; he deserved a little respect and understanding.

Unsure of how to express that, the silence stretched between us. I’d never understood the phrase before, but it did feel stretched—as if Time had become thin and insubstantial to the point that we could step outside of it. Grey edged in black clouded my vision as, against my will, I felt myself drawing Taliesin’s desiccated and damaged power into myself.

See what a little bit of empathy for the man does to you?

I blinked my eyes until I could see clearly again, angry at myself and a little afraid. If it was possible to absorb even the corruption of power, I had that much more reason to learn how to stop being some sort of supernatural sponge.

The bard’s eyes were wide with shock. “Please.” His choked whisper was more terrifying than any anger he’d ever shown me, and I didn’t know if he was asking me to stop or begging me not to.

I backed up into the open doorway. “I’m sorry. I don’t know . . . I can’t . . .” Turning and running from the room, I careened down the hall and the stairs until I collided with something hard at the bottom

“Hold on. I’ve got you.” Hands steadied me. Even before the bright pink of surprise faded from my sight, I knew who it was.

I can feel my heart beating in two places at once.

I couldn’t stop myself from pulling away almost in revulsion, but Tynan didn’t appear to notice. It didn’t make me feel any better. No one else had mentioned it, but it couldn’t have escaped everyone that his personality seemed to switch back and forth between sweet but insecure Ty and dark, unbalanced Mordred. As his memories of who he once was had undoubtedly returned, the question remained unanswered of who Tynan truly was now.

“Thanks. I’m OK. I just came down the stairs too fast.”

He nodded. “How’s Dad? You were up seeing him, right? Christmas will be hard without Rowan. I don’t think any of us can understand how lonely it is for Dad to carry the weight of protecting the world on his shoulders. Rowan and my mother made it easier for him.”

I knew he was right. I might feel personally betrayed that the bard hadn’t turned out to be the wise mentor of just about every fantasy book ever written, but I couldn’t dismiss the man who’d carried burdens that most would never understand. He’d been doing his job when he came to find me.

And it only cost him his lover and his best friend.

I handed Tynan the wreath. “He said I could hang this up over the fireplace.”

“Nice. I’ll help.”

In the center of the great room, the fireplace rose to the ceiling, one of its sides supporting the stairs which led to the gallery above. Couches and chairs were grouped together for conversation or viewing the large TV that emerged out of a cabinet when a button was pressed. Along the back of the house, several French doors led to the pool and gardens. There was a proper media room slightly below grade, but the great room was the place for socializing.

Tynan felt with his fingers for the small hook that protruded almost imperceptibly from the fireplace mantle. “Here it is.” Looping the twine on the back of the wreath over the hook, he stepped back to see if it was even. “How does it look?”

“Sad,” I said before I could censor myself.

As Tynan tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, I realized I didn’t miss how he used to hide his face beneath it all the time. He’d even had his dark hair cut more fashionably, though it was still on the long side. If it weren’t for the feeling I always had of being in two places at once whenever we were together, I could almost have seen myself renewing my initial interest in him.

If we weren’t cousins. Ew.

Tynan crossed his arms as he regarded the wreath. “You’re right, it does. Rowan used to organize the staff to decorate the house up until it looked like Santa’s workshop.”

“Should we get a tree?”

He shook his head. “No. Leave it be. Things are different now. Holly and evergreen are fitting symbols and have their own innate magic of protection, but it’s about time we dropped the other trappings celebrating the birth of the Carpenter from Galilee.”

I stared at him in surprise. “But Daley said you loved Christmas.”

“Children can be bought with gifts, but I was raised by my mother in the old ways. I remember that now.  Did you know that Arthur converted to Christianity? It was the one thing he and my mother disagreed on. I never knew if his conversion was genuine or only a cynical attempt to reconcile with the faith that was sweeping the world, even among magic users.”

“Rowan told me once that there are earth magicians and even Greylanders of all faiths.”

He snorted. “There are no gods. We of all people should know that.”

I ran my fingers over the soft needles of the wreath, but pulled back when a few berries tumbled off onto the limestone hearth. “I don’t know what I believe in.”

Tynan’s soft laugh sent a shiver down my spine. “Believe in yourself and you’ll never be deceived. Believe in your power. Believe in Excalibur.”

I put my hand on the hilt of the sword on my hip and Tynan’s eyes followed the movement. The sword was still invisible, but the hungry look on his face told me he knew exactly what I’d reached for.

“Yes,” he whispered, “that truly is something worth believing in.”

“I’m going to check on Miko.” But as I walked across the great room towards the bedroom wing, Tynan followed.

Always an echo.

When I rapped lightly on Miko’s door, she called for me to enter almost immediately and I was happy to see that she looked a lot better. She was still deathly pale, but she was sitting up cross-legged on her bed with a laptop in front of her.

“How are you feeling?” I asked. “Peter was so worried when he couldn’t wake you up. So was I.”

Her eyes evaded mine as she closed the lid of the laptop. “It’s just how I sleep now. I get tired. I’m glad you’re here though. There’s something we both wanted to talk to you about.”

“Both?”

Tynan threw himself into a chair beside the bed, hunching over his knees, and was abruptly Tynan again. “Maybe we should wait.”

Miko shook her head and strands of black hair floated into the air as if they had no weight. She was dressed in a white kimono-style robe and her hair was long and loose on her shoulders. She looked like a Japanese princess. “We’re leaving, Rhi. Both of us.”

I sat down heavily on the end of the bed. “What? Why?”

“Because of this.” As she half-closed her eyes and exhaled, translucent black wings sprang from her back, scalloped in shape like a bat’s.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Tynan drawled.

Mordred’s back. That was quick.

I forced myself to focus on Miko’s face, because when I looked too long at those beautiful, somehow wrong wings, I felt sick. And then I wanted them. “Is this because of Peter? He’ll get over it.”

Another exhale and the wings retracted into her back and disappeared. She slumped against the headboard. “It’s not about him. Tynan and I just don’t belong here anymore. We both need to figure out what we truly are and we can’t do that here. Taliesin has lost his way. Everyone can see that. Haven’t you been wondering where all the Protectors are, other than the ones Peter has been training with?”

I shrugged. “I thought they were all out, you know, protecting.”

“Some. Others have stayed in their own homes in the city, not ready to jump ship yet, but soon.”

“And some have left already and gone to Arthur,” Tynan interrupted. “Just a few months ago, this house was filled with people. Now there’s only a skeleton staff, and those Protectors too loyal or too frightened to leave. In a few more months, they’ll be gone too.”

I stood. “Then we need to get Taliesin to wake up! I know he’s hurting, but he can’t let it all fall apart like this.”

“That might not make a difference. Despite everything Taliesin stands for, most earth magicians and our Greylander allies believe they are superior to the Mundanes, even if they won’t admit it. More of us believe in Arthur’s vision of the world more than we do in Taliesin’s.” It didn’t escape me that for the first time in my hearing, Tynan hadn’t called Taliesin Dad. “Only my real parents can guide me in my abilities.” While that seemed like a reasonable excuse, by the way his eyes shifted away from mine, I knew he was hiding something.

Maybe he’s making more progress with his magic than he’s admitting.

I put the thought away for future consideration. “You’re conveniently forgetting that they both tried to kill you.”

“And I tried to kill Arthur, who was not only my father, but my king. If they can get past it, so can I.”

“So you’ve already been in contact with them.” It was an accusation, not a question.

Miko reached over and grasped my hand. “I didn’t make this decision lightly, but it’s my best hope of finding an answer to the question of what I’ve become. You could come with us. Maybe it’s your best hope too. Taliesin is trying to hold on to a world that’s already disappeared.”

“I don’t know.”

Tynan snorted. “C’mon, Rhi, you know as well as I do that Merlin is coming and only the Pendragon is strong enough to stop him.”

“Pendragon?”

When Tynan made a gesture towards the sky with his hand, I was struck by how long and graceful his fingers were. “Pen Ddraig. Head of the dragon. Arthur.”

“What if I told you Merlin isn’t coming yet? Would that make you stay, even for a little while?”

Frowning, Miko let go of my hand. “What do you mean?”

I considered telling her that my father was blackmailing me into finding my mother Guinevere—the only one who could release him from his prison behind the Wall Between Worlds. He had enough power to escape it for an hour here and there—long enough for him to demonstrate how he could destroy me by pouring magic into me till I burst like a ripe tomato—but not long enough to neutralize the threat Arthur posed to his power.

I changed my mind. I wasn’t ready to give up all my secrets yet. “Just that there’s no need to rush into anything. Peter told me you contacted the guy who did this to you. Can’t he help?”

“Marus is only a droch-fhola,” she dismissed him airily.

“Droc-ola?”

“Gaelic for man of bad blood—a vampire.” The side of her mouth quirked up into that familiar half-smile. Miko had always ridiculed Taliesin’s insistence they call all the wild and varied Greylanders across the earth by their Celtic names.

“So if he’s just a plain old vampire, why aren’t you one too?”

Her voice was a whisper. “True vampirism is rare and actually quite hard to transmit. When Marus met me at the dance, he didn’t think he could hurt me because he’d bit me before and nothing had happened. It’s why we broke up, remember? Vampire magic is like a virus and most humans are immune. So are most magic users. Since nothing happened after I was bit, I was immune. Vampires don’t need to drink blood, and they certainly don’t need to kill. There’s tons of groupies who’ll line up to be bitten.”

For a moment, the look on Miko’s face was rapturous. “Vampire magic is felt by both parties during the bite, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever imagined. People become addicted to it. When Marus came to see me, I was tempted. I’d interrupted it the first time and never got a chance to experience what I’d learned some people would do almost anything for. When we saw each other, we couldn’t resist fooling around. We figured we were protected by my immunity, but it turns out that it was my fairy side that wasn’t fully immune and we’d just been playing Russian roulette. Now that’s the side that’s changing . . .” Her voice trailed away.

“So now you want to drink blood?”

“No, I’m not craving blood.”

“Then you’re like me. You feed on power.”

She considered the thought before shaking her head, black tendrils lifting around her again, proof of the change she was describing. “I don’t know. Not exactly. But I’m so hungry all the time. And I’m fading. I can feel it. That’s why I’m sleeping all the time too. I might die if I don’t get whatever it is that I need.” Her eyes were wide and her pupils dilated. “That’s why I have to go. I’m running out of time.”

I was filled with azure sympathy. “Stay. We’ll figure it out, I promise.”

But Miko had closed her eyes wearily and Tynan answered, “You have more than enough to figure out yourself. You should come with us.” The intensity in his gaze made me uncomfortable. “We could help each other. No one really wants you here.”

My breath caught at his words, but before I could respond, Miko’s eyelids fluttered open. “I almost forgot. I think I’ve found something for you. Not every single legend in the world is a Greylander fact, but it’s possible that one of Arthur’s knights actually encountered a leanan sidhe. There’s an old poem which describes an encounter between the knight and a woman with strange powers. It might be a retelling of an even older story. Arthur might know more about it if you ask him.” She put her hand on the laptop. “I’ve emailed it to you. Don’t read it till you’re ready though.” She and Tynan exchanged a glance. “You might not like it.”

Still smarting from Tynan’s words, I got off the bed and walked to the door, but I couldn’t resist a parting shot. “If you’re so hell-bent on joining him, why don’t you just ask Arthur about it yourself?”

Miko’s reaction was strange. She looked away—the first quick movement she’d made—and two spots of red bloomed on her white cheeks. She looked feverish.

Tynan laughed. “It will probably make more sense coming from you”

“What?”

Tynan didn’t look away or flush. “Arthur is on his way here. Tonight.”

CHAPTER FIVE

ROSE

“Are you nuts? Please don’t tell me you invited Arthur here, tonight of all nights!”

Miko and Tynan shared another long look. “Not exactly,” she admitted, “but the timing is lucky.”

Tynan’s eyes were large and dark. Though the multi-colored sparks of his aura were as chaotic as ever, they seemed to be circling a knot of amethyst. I’d previously only seen his magic as a heritage from his mother Morgan le Fay, but he could sense Paths just like his father. It might be obscured by all the chaos, but he was a prince of the earth magic. “I’ve been in contact with my father ever since we got back. He reached out to me. I didn’t trust him at first—didn’t trust that he’d forgiven me—but now I do. It’s time for me to reclaim my place by his side. He said so himself.”

Miko’s eyelids fluttered as if she could barely keep them open. “We only made our decision a couple of days ago, but then Arthur phoned Taliesin yesterday and requested a truce and a meeting. We don’t know why, but we’ll leave with him after.”

“Have you told Taliesin yet? Or Daley?”

“Not yet,” Tynan admitted. A flash of something like guilt passed through him and then disappeared.

“Taliesin might, but Daley won’t understand.”

He looked away. “I can’t be the little brother forever. I love Daley and I owe him a lot, but I have to walk my own path. He’ll understand someday.” Straightening his shoulders, he looked back at me. “Do you?”

I wanted to say I didn’t, but it would have been a lie. I did understand. I wasn’t in Las Vegas because of any real allegiance to Taliesin. I’d come because I needed to know what I was. If I couldn’t find my answers with the bard, then I would move on too.

Tynan seemed to read my thoughts. “Come with us.”

“I don’t know.” The room suddenly felt too hot. I turned to leave but his words stopped me in the doorway.

“Promise me you’ll think about it.” There was no us now. Tynan’s plea was for himself and I could feel the strength of his desire to keep me with him. It was difficult to resist.

I was having trouble breathing. “I don’t know,” I repeated as I walked out.

Back in my own room, I stowed Excalibur under the bed and assessed my options. I hadn’t made any progress in finding my mother, and I knew Merlin would only wait so long to hear from me. Taliesin seemed to have lost the will to live, let alone to help me. There was nothing left for me at home. I’d hurt Redcap and the thought was like a wound that wouldn’t completely heal; there was no comfort there now.  Daley would never leave Taliesin, I was sure of it, but what about Peter? I suspected he would want to go home once his training was over. He’d been my other half since almost my earliest memories and I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be away from him.

I sat down at the desk and turned on the laptop Taliesin had provided for my use. Miko’s email was already waiting for me. It contained a link to a website that consisted of a single page with a painting of a beautiful woman leaning over a knight dressed in armor at the top, and a poem beneath it. My breath caught as I read the title: La Belle Dame sans Merci—The Beautiful Lady Without Mercy. The poem told the mysterious story of a knight who lies dying, claiming a beautiful woman has bewitched him and sucked his life away:

She took me to her Elfin grot,

And there she wept and sighed full sore,

And there I shut her wild wild eyes

With kisses four.

And there she lullèd me asleep,

And there I dreamed—Ah! woe betide!—

The latest dream I ever dreamt

On the cold hill side.

I saw pale kings and princes too,

Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;

They cried—‘La Belle Dame sans Merci

Hath thee in thrall!’

I saw their starved lips in the gloam,

With horrid warning gapèd wide,

And I awoke and found me here,

On the cold hill’s side.

And this is why I sojourn here,

Alone and palely loitering,

Though the sedge is withered from the lake,

And no birds sing.

I went cold all over. Had there really been a knight once who’d encountered a leanan sidhe? According to the notes at the bottom of the page, some scholars believed that Keat’s poem referred back to an older tale, now lost. A succubus was a demon, an evil spirit, but this poem told of a living woman with a terrible power. A beautiful woman without mercy.

A leanan sidhe.

I went to the chest of drawers across the room, opening the second one down. Hidden underneath a sweater was the pale pink apple from the orchards of Avalon that Merlin had left with me so I could contact him. I tentatively touched its smooth skin. Merlin, Taliesin, or Arthur—which one should I follow? Merlin was my father and held my life in his hands. Taliesin’s vision appealed to my sense of fairness and equality. Arthur was the rightful Earth King.

I couldn’t ignore the truth that a cold, merciless part of me was drawn most to Merlin and the power he represented, but the apple reminded me of poor Seolan, the Cŵn Annwn I’d destroyed and he’d killed.

There was a knock at the door and I shoved the apple back into the corner of the drawer. “Come in.”

Peter entered the room and stood there, staring at me. We didn’t need words. Through our bond, I felt his homesickness, and his disappointment at the failure of his relationship with Miko. But I could also feel his pride at his accomplishments as a Protector, and underneath that, his irrepressible delight for Christmas, even here, so far from home.

A burst of laughter escaped me when he produced a tray of cookies and a bottle of soda from behind his back with a flourish. My own need for comfort had been as clear to him as his emotions were to me. “C’mon then.” Giggling, we hopped on the bed and I clicked on the TV. We spent the rest of the day gorging on shortbread and watching every old Christmas special we could find. My last memory before dozing off was of Scrooge dancing around his apartment in his nightgown.

It was music that woke me up. Curled against the warmth of Peter’s back, I had to push myself up and over him to see the clock on the bedside table. He stirred and groaned under my weight, but didn’t open his eyes. I gasped when I saw the time. “Wake up! Daley said dinner would be at midnight. It’s almost time.” Peter had always been a deep sleeper and it took a couple of hard whacks on his shoulder to finally get him up. I went into the bathroom and changed into a velvet skirt and black ballet-style top while he struggled to full consciousness.

The music beckoned me, arousing an excitement I’d never felt at Christmas before. It hinted at mysteries to be revealed and comforts to be enjoyed. For a moment, I understood Scrooge’s impulse to dance just for the sheer joy of it. Peter and I were grinning at each other like kids.

When we entered the great room, we could see that someone in the staff had been busy. Though there were no seasonal decorations other than the wreath on the mantle, white candles had been placed on every surface and their light illuminated Taliesin sitting on, playing a harp. It was similar in style and size to the harp of Binnorie, but I was happy to detect that it was ordinary wood with no hint of magical color around it. Peter and I sat down on one of the sofas to listen. Miko and Tynan were huddled together, talking softly. Daley stood alone by the French doors. Several other Protectors and staff members I didn’t know sat around the room.

Taliesin began to sing a Christmas carol, though one I’d never heard before. The melody was simple, stirring, and something about the tune and the words told me it was very old:

This endris night

I saw a sight,

A star as bright as day,

And ever among

A maiden sung,

Lullay, by by, lullay.

I’d never heard Taliesin sing before—though I’d assumed that was part of a bard’s job description—and I wasn’t disappointed. Though I could still feel the grey edge of despair in it, his voice was rich yet clear. The song seemed to be a dialogue between Mary and her child, but the old English was difficult to follow. Instead, I looked out the window into the darkness and let the delicate sound of the harp and the beauty of the bard’s voice transport me to a sky as soft as the velvet of my skirt where the stars pierced me with a nameless longing.

The song finished and I was back in the room again. Sighing in appreciation, I began to clap, but stopped when I realized it was the only sound. Everyone was frozen except for a young man in a hoodie staring at me through the glass. Gasping, I sprang to my feet. As if my motion disturbed it, the image of the young man wavered and I saw the creature underneath it.

The Mari Lwyd.

I reminded myself that the creature was reputed to appear during the Christmas time period and that Redcap had said it wasn’t evil. Trying not to look too closely at the frozen bodies around me, I threaded through them and opened one of the sliding glass doors. As I stepped outside, I was surprised that the air was neither cold nor warm. In fact, there was almost an absence of physical sensation.

Turning to face the young man, I could see now that his face was pale and bony. Other than that, and the occasional glimpse of the true Mari Lwyd underneath, he looked ordinary.

“What have you done to them?” I asked.

He gestured to the house. “I have not done anything. We have simply stepped Outside. Not outside this place. Outside Time.” He gestured again and when I looked, I could see that Taliesin had moved just the tiniest bit. They weren’t actually frozen. The sensation was similar to when Morgan took me out of Time in the cave that held Arthur’s resting place.

“Thomas Redcap said you were a portent. Are you trying to tell me something?

He nodded. “Follow me.”

I hesitated. Underneath the visage of a young man hid a gruesome creature of bone and flame. “Where are we going?”

“There is no time for questioning. Mortal beings are not meant to dwell long outside of Time. Even now, you are being changed by it. There is something you must see before this night is finished.” As if in answer, a clock inside the house tolled once, a seemingly unending sound that vibrated along my bones. “It was prophesied that I would find you at this time of the year’s turning. Through ages I have waited. What I must show you, I must show you now.”

Curiosity was stronger than any sense of self-preservation. “Fine. Where are we going?”

“Follow me,” he repeated. He was either unable, or unwilling, to tell me. Without waiting to see if I was following, he walked away. I followed him around the side of the house and down the driveway out onto the street.  We covered far more ground than was humanly possible, and with almost no exertion. The ten minute drive to the Strip was probably at least a forty-five minute walk, but within seconds we were standing outside of the Bellagio.

“We’re not supposed to go in there,” I said, but the Mari Lwyd ignored me. Time was approaching its normal pace. Tourists eddied around me as if they were walking through water, but didn’t acknowledge my presence. The Bellagio’s fountains danced in slow motion, colored lights fading in and out as the drawn out sounds of a familiar carol played.

The Mari Lwyd beckoned with bony fingers. “I was given this glamour many years past so I could approach you when you came to the right time and the right place. Be quick and stay close so I may fulfill my mission.” As we approached the hotel, the Mari Lwyd began to run. I struggled after him, trying not to touch any of the holiday revelers as I passed. I had a feeling it would be disastrous for beings in separate Time streams to connect.

“Who?” I demanded when I caught up to him under the glass garden on the ceiling of the lobby. “Who gave you the glamour?”

When the Mari Lwyd looked over his shoulder and grinned, I could see the bones of the horse skull under his skin. “Guinevere.” The word was like a drawn out hiss of breath.

He held out his hand. When I took it, he was no longer a he, but an it. The glamour disappeared, and without knowing how, I was sitting astride the hard skeleton of a horse. Skin crawling, I still grabbed the massive bones of the rib cage to keep from falling off when the creature began to run through the Bellagio, so fast that our surroundings blurred into streaks of color and light. The only thing I could see clearly were the ribbons of flame streaming from the creature’s jawbone.

“Be honored, child.” The creature’s voice was now in my mind. “I have not borne either mortal or god on my back since the first Rhiannon rode me as she went to meet her beloved. I was a being of flesh then, though I sprang from the earth with no mother to begat me. Rhiannon was the divine Earth Queen and I existed only to serve her until her death.”

“Earth Queen? Do you mean like how Arthur was the Earth King?”

“Yes. And remains so, though the Earth has lost confidence in him. Yet he may still reclaim his honor.”

It felt like we were travelling upwards, though I had no idea how. “So what does an Earth King or Queen do exactly?”

The creature peered at me over its shoulder with empty eye sockets. “They serve the earth.” When it looked forward again, I knew I would get no better answer.

We came to an abrupt stop, but I didn’t lose my balance. In fact, despite my bony mount, the ride had been as smooth and effortless as if I’d been riding on air. The Mari Lwyd shook itself and without transition, I was standing on a plush carpet in the main living area of a luxurious apartment, probably one of the Bellagio’s penthouses. The lights of the city twinkled back at me from the bank of windows on one wall. There was a noise from one of the bedrooms and I jumped in surprise as a woman came out.

Cleopatra.

I held my breath, but as she barely missed walking right into me, I knew she couldn’t see me. Wearing an evening dress and adjusting a diamond earring, she seemed to be getting ready to meet someone special, but she moved languidly— we were still in separate Time streams, but not too far off from one another. When she spoke, her words were slow but understandable.

“Father? I’m ready.”

There was a shimmer and a breath of cold air, and then Merlin appeared two inches in front of my nose.

CHAPTER SIX

COQUELICOT

Holding in a yelp, I stepped back.

The man I once knew as Cernunnos frowned. “Have you placed the wards on the hotel as you were instructed?”

“Yes. . . ” Cleo replied, “but there was a disturbance today and the sorcerer I use to reset them hasn’t answered my calls. I promise I’ll have them back up as soon as possible. I’ll find someone else if I have to.”

I held my breath as Merlin cast his eyes around the room, obviously searching for something he could sense but couldn’t see. “What happened?”

Cleo tried to smile, but she was obviously afraid. “Nothing really. One of Taliesin’s people broke our agreement and trespassed on the property. Of course it set off the alarms, but he wasn’t aware. I got rid of him. I’ll remind Taliesin of our agreement, forcibly if necessary.” I was surprised that she didn’t mention Daley or Redcap by name, or meeting me at all.

Merlin’s eyes narrowed. “The bard is a meddler, but too honorable to ever guess the true intent behind your agreement.” He made the word sound dirty. He was circling Cleo now and I could see her tremble at the menace in his voice. “Do you know why I keep you alive, Cleopatra Philopater?”

“No, father,” she whispered.

“Out of all my children, you were the least to me, born as you were without any magic or talent. I had such hopes for your bloodline when I visited your mother in the guise of the horned god Khnum. Imagine my disappointment when you turned out to be a Mundane. It was only your lust for power that kept me from turning you to dust once I knew you were flawed, but I found myself admiring your cunning and initiative.” Smiling, he stroked her cheek with a gentle finger, but she didn’t relax until he turned away and sat down on a leather armchair.

Cleo sat down on the couch across from him. “And I’m grateful you spared me and extended my life beyond what it would have been, father. I exist only to serve you.”

He waved her fawning thanks away. “You’re lucky you’ve made yourself useful to me in other ways, though not in the one that I’d hoped.”

“And what of my more talented brothers and sisters across the world?” She couldn’t quite keep the bitterness out of her voice.

The cruel but handsome angles of Merlin’s face tightened as his jaw clenched. “Unsatisfactory, every single one of them. Through every age and culture of the earth, I’ve planted my seeds only to watch them all grow stunted and unable to contain what I require. All but one, and her mother’s foul magic keeps her out of my grasp, if not completely out of my reach.” He ran a hand over his silver hair, smoothing it down with a look of aggrieved majesty. “I had to burn through several of your siblings only just recently, and they were old ones conceived when the world was new. I suspect I will burn through many more while my true heir remains out of my full reach until I’m freed from Avalon.”

Cleo’s face was expressionless. She obviously wasn’t going to mention that we’d met, but I didn’t know why. It suddenly dawned on me that she was my half-sister, apparently one of many half-siblings.

Holy crow, I’m part of a family of evil magic users.

Standing abruptly, Cleo walked over to the windows to stare down at the lights of Las Vegas. “What makes Guinevere’s child so special?” The envy in her voice was clear. She wasn’t hiding our encounter out of any sisterly bond.

I guess we won’t be having sleepovers and braiding one another’s hair any time soon.

Merlin made an elegant, helpless gesture with his hands. “Guinevere was the greatest earth witch of her time, but I have bedded other witches with only disappointing results. I have no idea what accident of breeding made Guinevere’s child my heir. I’ve certainly not been able to replicate it, though not through lack of trying.” He laughed, and even though he seemed old to me, I could still see he was handsome in a debonair, Hollywood leading man sort of way.

Like a satanic George Clooney.

Cleo turned. “You know she’s here in Las Vegas.”

He nodded. “Of course. It doesn’t matter where she goes now that I’ve finally seen her adult face. She may evade me for a time, but I’ll always eventually be able to find her. Guinevere thought that if she could bring the girl through the Path of Time, she could hide her from me forever, but I’m a patient man. Viviane, my own sister, helped Guinevere to bind me in Avalon, but since she couldn’t use her powers without drawing my attention, she lost them and died. Which meant she could no longer hide the girl. Viviane is back, but she’s not what she was; she’ll be no help in bringing down the Wall. I need Guinevere, and to get to her, I need Rhiannon Lynne. I can sense her now, though I can’t always touch her. In fact, my senses tell me she’s quite close.”

I froze as Merlin looked right at me, but his eyes were unfocused; he knew I was there but he couldn’t see me. “Come out, come out, wherever you are, sneaking little mouse.”

I experienced the same sensation as when I once went with Peter to a theme park and he took me on the highest roller coaster. In that moment between ascending and descending, I thought my stomach might jump out of my mouth. Somehow I was back on the Mari Lwyd and through the window. We dropped from the building like a falling star.

The Mari Lwyd’s hooves clicked on the ground as we landed in front of the Bellagio’s fountains which were spraying and dancing to a recording of It’s The Most Wonderful Time of The Year. I felt a strange stutter as my heart began to beat normally again and sensed Tynan’s following just a step behind; the streams of Time had almost realigned.

Then the creature shook me off into the water.

I tried to stand, but the pool was deeper than was possible and I lost my footing and sank. Looking down, I could see sand and stone far below and a school of pale fish swimming beneath me. Kicking and flailing, I reached for the surface and broke free, gasping for air.

The Bellagio was gone. Las Vegas was gone. The whole world was gone. All that remained was a grey sky filled with storm clouds and the Mari Lwyd watching me from a wind-swept beach framed by barren cliffs.

Using the waves to propel myself, I swam to shore and collapsed on the sand. I could feel the cold now. Shivering so hard I could barely push myself up into a standing position, I was just about to scream at the Mari Lwyd for almost drowning me when it collapsed, ribcage heaving with imaginary breath. Steam rose from the bones as the ribbons of fire dripping from its mouth went out.

Anger forgotten, I knelt by the creature’s side. “What’s wrong? What can I do?”

When the skull lifted off the ground and twisted to look at me, flakes of dry bone broke off and fluttered to the ground. “Many generations ago, I was given this one purpose—to make you see.”

“Who made you? Was it Guinevere?”

It dropped its head on the sand in a posture that even in bone spoke of great weariness. “I know nothing of the witch save that she charged me to find you. I was called into being by the first Rhiannon to serve her and play with her children. After her death, I somehow remained in this world, but only through the season of the winter solstice, until Guinevere placed the geas on me to find you. Once I did, my quest would be ended and also my existence. She had the power to command me and I could not deny it, but I am happy to finally seek my rest.”

The Mari Lwyd was silent and still for so long that I feared it was gone. My pity was pale lavender streaked with silver, but there was no answering color of magic in this cold, grey place. When I rested my hand on the creature’s skull, a section of it crumbled to dust beneath my fingers. Stomach heaving, I stood as the bones disintegrated before my eyes, but the Mari Lwyd wasn’t at peace. Thin and distant, its voice was carried across the beach on the wind. “See! The world is out of balance. Look beneath your feet.”

A gust of supernatural wind buffeted me, lifting me into the air onto a narrow ridge of rock. In front of me was the frothing, churning ocean. Behind me was a pit of magma and fire.

I looked down. I was standing at the center of a symbol etched into the stone—lines knotted into a trillium-like shape, bound by a circle.

As the wind swirled around me, the Mari Lwyd’s voice gained strength. “Water, fire, air—all bound together in the earth which gives them home. These are the elements which exist in all who are also bound by the earth of blood, flesh, and bone. This is the very essence of earth magic, but a spider appeared in the garden of the world, swallowing power whole until the Great Balance was threatened.”

“Do you mean Merlin? Cernunnos?”

“Many ages, many names.”

“What did he do?”

“I cannot say. I was only made to know and tell.”

“I command you to tell me what you know!” I was afraid the spirit of the Mari Lwyd would disappear before it could give me its message.

“LOOK DOWN!” The voice boomed suddenly.

The stone beneath my feet shifted and I threw my arms out wildly to keep my balance. With horror, I realized the ground had broken and the symbol was now split in two. Chunks of rock broke away from the cliff, dropping into an ocean raging with storm on one side and a maelstrom of fire on the other. I gasped for oxygen as the fumes from the magma sucked all the air out of the world.

The voice of the Mari Lwyd was now almost indistinguishable from the howling of the wind. “Where you stand, all Greylanders, earth magicians, and humankind stand with you!” More stone broke away and I was forced to balance on the balls of my feet to keep from falling to my death. “Where you fall, all Greylanders, earth magicians, and humankind fall with you!”

“What do you want me to do?” I screamed, helpless with white terror.

“Save us all.”

“How?”

“Look down.” When the Mari Lwyd’s voice faded away, I knew the creature was finally gone. Then the rock beneath my feet exploded into fragments.

I was back at the Bellagio, balanced on the cement edge of the fountain pool, looking down into the shadowed water. Something glittered at the bottom, catching the light of the strobes which still danced with the sprays of water to the tune of It’s The Most Wonderful Time of The Year. I thought at first it was only a handful of coins some tourist must have tossed in for luck, but then a crescendo of light at the climax of the song illuminated a deep bowl made of gold with pearls inlaid around the edge. Though it was submerged in water, fire roiled inside it.

A warning bell sang in my mind, but I couldn’t stop myself from stretching towards the enticing red power, absorbing its heat greedily. As flames began to rise on my skin, I realized it was the true source of what had been overwhelming me ever since I’d arrived. It called to me, claiming me, consuming me. The pressure building inside my body, inside my soul, was almost too much to bear, and I knew that soon I would erupt into a conflagration of magic and disintegrate just like the Mari Lwyd.

I didn’t care. All that mattered was the need to possess the golden object in the water. As if it understood, it rose to hover just beneath the surface. Leaning forward, I reached out to grasp it.

And grabbed King Arthur by the front of his silk shirt.

CHAPTER SEVEN

VERMILION

I was somehow back in the great room of Taliesin’s mansion. Letting go of Arthur’s shirt, I tripped on my skirt and scrabbled wildly at my waist for Excalibur, but I’d left the earth talisman in my room.

Arthur raised an eyebrow at Taliesin. “Has the child hit her head recently?” The king was dressed in a black suit and leather duster.

Like he just stepped out of GQ’s Modern Threads for Modern Monarchs issue.

I looked around. A few of the Protectors were standing alert and ready, but Taliesin was sitting with his harp on his lap as if he’d just finished singing. Enough time had passed while I was gone for Arthur to arrive, but evidently not much more than that. His attendants—two women and a man—still lingered near the door. I could feel Peter’s surprise and concern through our bond, but the emotions were directed at me, not Arthur.

Coming to my side, Peter hissed, “Where were you? I thought you’d just gone to your room, but then you were practically assaulting King Arthur, for crying out loud. What were you thinking?”

As I shook my head, a wave of dizziness followed and Peter had to steady me and help me sit in the nearest chair. Arthur surprised me by striding over and kneeling at my side. Placing his hand on my forehead as if he were taking my temperature, he looked intently into my eyes and I was immediately filled with a sense of peace and belonging. I couldn’t deny it; I felt more whole near him.

He and Taliesin seemed to communicate wordlessly as they shared a look. “A vision?” the bard asked.

Arthur cocked his head at me. “I believe so. What did you see, child?”

“The Mari Lwyd,” I replied before I could stop myself.

Arthur’s smile was almost fatherly. “The Mari Lwyd? Do you mean the figure that young men dress up as to go begging door to door for ale? I encountered the practice sometime after I was made king. My son used to love . . .” Glancing at Tynan, he caught himself. “While it might be a fitting vision of gaiety at this time of year, I don’t know what its significance might be. Are you prone to visions?”

“No.”

Arthur looked at Taliesin again. “I doubt it’s of much importance, so I will leave the riddling of it to you. My task here is too urgent to be distracted by the fledgling magics of an untrained girl.” I almost bristled at the dismissal, but his smile was reassuring and I relaxed. “Don’t worry, child. Dreams of the merry grey horse don’t imply much evil.”

How innocent you really are, my king

Because I did think of him as my king. I couldn’t help it.

Taliesin was watching me. Accustomed to my habit of keeping secrets from him, I doubted he was so easily fooled. I wasn’t sure how much I could tell without revealing everything else I’d been hiding.

The bard placed his harp in a case, shutting it with a snap. “Those of you with family or friends in the city, I thank you for your attendance this evening and invite you to spend the rest of this holiday in whatever manner you prefer. Arthur has invoked the ancient rite of hospitality and I will have no need of Protectors here tonight except for my son and Peter Larsen. For those of you who wish to remain, dinner has been laid out in the ballroom. My family and I will retire with the king and his attendants to the main dining room.” I was surprisingly touched when Taliesin’s gaze included Peter and me under the term family. More than half of the Protectors departed with warm wishes of Merry Christmas and Happy Solstice, while the rest bustled off to enjoy their dinner. Once they were gone, Arthur began to speak, but Taliesin held up his hand to stop him. Gesturing towards the dining room, he preceded us there.

The carved oak table in the Pim Ranch dining room could have easily seated twice our number. The cook—whom I’d never seen but who always seemed to anticipate the need for food—had already laid out a feast on platters down the center of the table. Two huge brass candlesticks towered at either end. Daley approached the table and made a complicated gesture with his hands. There was a brief smell of ozone as twin balls of electricity appeared on the tips of his fingers. He flexed his hands and they were released, floating to the top of each candlestick to illuminate the room with warm light.

Even Arthur looked impressed. “May we speak freely now?”

Taliesin hesitated. “Word of Rhiannon’s parentage, and of her arrival here, have already spread through the community of magic users. Unfortunately, I cannot trust that there are not some among my people who are willing to trade knowledge for currency.” He turned to Miko. “Do you sense any glamour or subterfuge nearby?”

“I don’t think so, except . . .” She paused, her gaze fixed on the woman standing beside Arthur. “Except for the fairy of course.” The woman was beautiful but extreme with her hair cut and dyed in a screaming red mohawk and wearing an orange jumpsuit that appeared to be made out of rubber straps. I realized I recognized her—she was one of the visitors to Viviane’s deathbed. She’d seemed truly sad at the time and I wondered if she knew that my foster-mother’s death had only been temporary. Arthur’s other female attendant, a ginger-haired woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties, murmured something under her breath to the somber looking man beside her. He frowned and shushed her.

Taliesin took the three in with a glance. “Well met, Bedivere. I am glad to know that Morgana has awakened the Sleepers at last.” The man bowed but remained silent.

I glanced at Miko and she whispered, “Morgan placed Arthur’s most loyal knights under a sleeping enchantment, to be awakened when he was.”

The bard kissed the hand of the fairy with the red mohawk in an old-fashioned, gallant gesture. “And well met to you as well, Titania.” An unreadable expression flitted over his face. “I did not know that you had entered Arthur’s service. I would not have thought you would give up dominion over your own realm.”

The fairy flushed, but lifted her chin proudly. “The time has come to take sides, bard. Oberon has chosen Merlin’s and cast me out of my own home in Cannock Chase. He prefers the form of a great black cat to that of a man now, and uses it to terrorize the lower fairies and local humans. All in Merlin’s name.”

Bowing low, he released her hand. “I am sorry Titania.” Taliesin then turned and greeted the ginger-haired woman with a cordial nod. When she smiled politely but didn’t speak, he frowned suddenly as if something had caught his attention.

“Old friend,” Arthur said, “shouldn’t we retire somewhere private? The news I bring may be difficult to hear.”

Distracted from his regard of the woman, Taliesin turned away. I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it or not, but the woman seemed relieved to no longer be the object of his scrutiny.

The bard made a sweeping gesture around the room. “This is my family. If what you have to say is so difficult, all the more reason that I hear it in their company.”

Arthur nodded. “Of course. Perhaps if I were more honest with myself, I would say instead that my news will be difficult for me to speak out loud.”

Taliesin went very still. “Morgana.”

“Yes.”

“Is she?”

“No. Not yet.”

Tynan stepped away from the shadows near the wall. “What is it? What’s wrong with my mother?” It amazed me that he seemed to have forgiven her for stabbing him in the heart with Excalibur.

A muscle in Arthur’s cheek twitched. When he took a ragged breath, I realized that all the calm politeness was only a façade. “Your mother has been ailing for some time, more in her heart than in her body I think, but I could see the difference in her shortly after I was awakened. She seemed to be . . . fading. I realize now she couldn’t bear what she’d had to do to you, my son, to awaken me. This morning, I found her in our bed as stiff and cold as if she were dead.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I thought at first she was dead, but the physician I summoned declared that life was in her yet.”

Taliesin had flinched at the word dead and was now clutching the back of one of the chairs like a lifeline. The movement wasn’t lost on Arthur. “I don’t begrudge either of you the comfort you took in one another while I was gone, old friend.”

Taliesin bowed his head in acknowledgement. I was torn between admiring Arthur’s benevolence and understanding, and rolling my eyes at how he assumed any relationship between them had to be because they were missing him.

Tynan had slumped back against the wall and his eyes were large and dark. “Is my mother sick?”

Arthur rubbed his eyes wearily. “No, not sick. The physician believes she took some unknown poison strong enough to kill even one of her kind. Only the bond between us is keeping her alive, and I can feel it failing minute by minute.”

Taliesin collapsed into the chair as if he could no longer stand upright. “Where is she now?”

“This is the only thing that delayed me coming to you. We were at Cornwall. I couldn’t leave her alone and unprotected, so I brought her through the Paths to her sister Morgause.”

The bard looked up sharply. “You left her with the Seer of New York? Why? Morgana would be safer left in a den of snakes than with Morgause! The woman is unhinged. You must know that she cannot be trusted.”

But I could see by the sudden flash of fear on Arthur’s face that he hadn’t known that at all—he’d been asleep for too long. “Then we must prepare to leave with even greater haste! You can’t be ignorant as to why I’ve come for you.” Whatever else I might doubt about him, there was no doubting his love for Morgan le Fay.

The bard seemed to shrink into himself. “I can’t help you.”

Daley put a hand on his father’s shoulder. “What is it? What does he want?”

“He wants me to give him the Cauldron of Bran.” Seeing the confusion on our faces, he laughed but the sound was bitter. “I forget sometimes how much of our history has faded into myth. You would know it better by another name.” Taliesin paused dramatically.

“The Holy Grail.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

CARNELIAN

The Holy Grail.

Holy smokes.

“Nam seith ny dyrreith ogaer sidi.” Taliesin’s eyes found mine as he repeated in English, “Except seven, none returned from the Fortress of the Otherworld. All of you know the story of how Arthur led an army into Avalon.” He shifted his gaze to Arthur, but the king didn’t look away from the implied accusation. “We failed in our mission, but we did not return home empty-handed. We took spoils with us.” He spat the word. “Perhaps to convince ourselves that our quest and the loss of so many men were not in vain.”

Arthur sat down at the table, speaking patiently as if to a child. “I didn’t know what the Cauldron truly was when you claimed it as the price for your service and left me. If I had, you know I would never have parted with it. It might have been used to heal me after Mordred’s attack.” Arthur lifted a beckoning hand towards Tynan when he turned away. “That dark event is behind us now, my son. You’ve paid for it with your blood. I speak of it now only to explain.” Tynan relaxed, but he remained by the wall, partly in shadow.

The bard straightened his shoulders. “Believe me, Arthur, if I had known then what it was, I would have used it to save you from your centuries of sleep. By the time I understood, it was no longer in my possession.”

Arthur looked so stricken that I felt incensed on his behalf, a result of his innate ability to command fealty. “Are you saying you had the actual friggin’ Grail and you lost it?” I yelped. “Isn’t it like the cup of Christ or something?” Peter and I shared a concerned look. I may not have been raised religious the way he was, but even I knew that losing something like that would be pretty heinous.

When Taliesin raised his eyebrow at me, I immediately felt foolish. “At Jesus of Nazareth’s crucifixion, I am sure his followers had graver concerns than collecting his blood in a cup, but as this new religion spread through the British Isles, the accounts of the power he seemed to have over death became confused with tales of the life-giving magic of the cauldron.”

Miko gave a little gasp. “I remember this story. Bran the Blessed was the king of Wales. He had a cauldron that brought the dead back to life, but he lost it somehow to the king of Ireland. Eventually the two went to war. Bran won, but the cauldron was destroyed and he was killed by treachery.”

Taliesin sighed. “Yet another example of history become myth. In ancient times, a conflict erupted among Greylanders and civil war broke out between the Tuatha Dé Danann of Ireland and the Tylwyth Teg of Wales who were led by the giant Bran. The war spread from our world into Avalon, or Annwn as it was called then, and the final battle was fought there. The cauldron was a talisman of the earth magic, older than Excalibur. No one knows who crafted it or how Bran came to find it, but it was lost in Avalon. As we retreated from Merlin, taking what we could from fortresses and castles on the way, we thought it only an object of great beauty made of gold and pearl.”

My heart skipped a beat as startled pink sparks exploded across my vision. “I thought cauldrons were made of black iron, like they always show witches using at Halloween.”

It was Arthur who answered me. “The word is clumsy in English. I prefer grail for it captures the fineness of it. The Grail was a deep bowl crafted in gold with pearls inlaid all around the edge.”

Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap.

“Where have you hidden it, Taliesin?” Arthur’s voice had become dangerous. Peter and Daley were immediately on their feet and at the bard’s side.

Taliesin waved them off. “I forget that you probably know very little of the multitude of stories which have grown up around your exploits, Arthur. If you did, you wouldn’t need me to answer that question.”

The king’s voice was only marginally louder, but I could feel the power of command in it. “Then enlighten me.”

“I was tricked into giving it to a trusted knight who once served you, and who was my companion in arms. I know where the Grail is. Every child who has read the tales knows where it is. The Grail is kept in the castle of the Fisher King, but we knew him once as Galahad.”

Arthur’s frown made the room feel dark and cold. “Galahad? That priggish, self-righteous little know it all? He was only a mortal.”

“Tales contain the seeds of truth. I suppose that drinking from the Grail periodically has extended his life, but perhaps not. Perhaps he died long ago and the Grail is buried with him.”

Arthur stood and his attendants flanked him. “Take me to this castle of the Fisher King then without delay. Morgan’s life hangs in the balance. Galahad would never let her die.”

Taliesin snorted, the most unrefined sound I’d ever heard him make. “He showed no interest in saving you from endless sleep! Do you think his judgment will be any different for Morgana? If he is even alive at all.”

“Then we’ll convince him to come to the correct judgment. And if he’s dead, I’ll dig him up with my bare hands if I have to, but I will find the Grail! Now where is this castle?”

Taliesin was on his feet now too. “Don’t you understand? No one knows, not even Robin Goodfellow. Galahad asked him for the use of a Path Guide, claiming he was weary of the world and wanted to find a remote, forgotten place where he could spend the rest of his days fishing. That Guide never returned. The tales sprang from rumors of mysterious encounters with a Fisher King and his magic Grail. Those who stumbled upon his castle and were given refuge would find themselves alone on the ground somewhere completely different when they awoke from sleep. I eventually suspected that Galahad and the Fisher King were one and the same.”

Arthur’s expression darkened. “How can I believe that the youngest of my knights managed to trick you, Taliesin the warrior-bard, out of the legendary Cauldron of Bran? You must have recognized it. What game are you playing? Would you treat Morgan’s life so lightly?”

Taliesin’s face went white, but his voice was controlled. “I had barely even looked at it. I was so angry at the fool’s errand you had led us on that I took it to spite you when I saw how it caught your eye. I had no desire for treasure. All it did was remind me of everything we lost in Avalon. When Galahad was not chosen by Morgana to join the Sleepers, he found me and begged for the Grail. He told me he wanted it so he could always remember the glory of the King of Camelot and the Knights of the Round Table. Perhaps he had somehow divined its true nature, but I believed his request was innocent and gave it to him gladly. It was only later that I began to doubt. Still, the Cauldron of Bran—the Grail—was a mysterious and dangerous power. I decided it was better lost in the mists of history along with the Fisher King.”

“Why?” Peter asked. “Why is it so dangerous? Something that can heal, maybe even raise the dead, it sounds like a miracle.”

Taliesin smiled sadly. “They say the god you and Rowan follow could do the same. What was his fate among his fellow men?” I could feel Peter holding back his protest. Nothing we’d experienced thus far had shaken his faith, but he seemed to realize this was an argument that no one would win.

Arthur wasn’t convinced. “Yes, it’s a powerful weapon. To be able to heal one’s army would make all the difference in a war. Perhaps you just don’t want me possessing that advantage, old friend.”

“Has using any talisman of the earth magic ever been that simple? You of all people should be wary of it. The earth magic picks and chooses who it will favor, and it can abandon that favor just as quickly.” Taliesin pointed his finger at me. “The cost of quickening Excalibur was almost this young woman’s life. Do you think the Grail will ask any less? It betrayed Bran and let him die in the Grey Lands of Avalon.”

Arthur nodded, but I could tell he wasn’t swayed. His purple aura of majestic, absolute certainty and strength of will remained pure and unsullied by lesser emotions. “Then declare a truce between us and join me again, old friend.  I will trust in your wise council over such a powerful object, I promise it.” Seeing something in Taliesin’s face, he pressed his advantage. “We share a common enemy in Merlin. Whatever differences we have over the course we believe this world should be on, they are nothing compared to what Merlin will do if he has free reign over the earth. Morgan told me that until recently it was believed that Merlin had created the Wall Between Worlds to protect himself, but even before I was struck down, I’d begun to suspect that his sojourn there wasn’t voluntary. Now we know that Viviane trapped him there.”

“Under Guinevere’s orders and using her spell,” I couldn’t help adding. When Arthur frowned at me, I realized he hadn’t been told everything yet.

I suppose I can’t blame Morgan for not wanting to talk to her lover about his wife.

“Guinevere? What does she have to do with it?”

I surprised myself with a surge of red anger on my mother’s behalf. “Basically everything! This whole mess started when you betrayed her. Viviane didn’t give you Excalibur, Guinevere did. I have no idea how she got it, but she didn’t believe you would trust it if it came from her. You’d already chosen Morgan over her, and that made Merlin so paranoid that he seduced Guinevere and then convinced Mordred to kill you. Sending Guinevere into Merlin’s arms is why I was born, why she left you and disappeared, and one of the reasons why Merlin is so eager to escape now that he’s found me!” Peter took my hand to calm me, but the heat on my skin was warning enough and I pulled away before he could register its unnatural temperature.

Arthur stared at me as if I’d gone mad. “Guinevere? An earth witch? And you’re her child?” Apparently the king was above listening to gossip because I’d thought that information had already spread through the magic community grapevine.

Sighing, Taliesin sat down heavily in his chair. “It is true.”

Arthur shook his head. “I can hardly believe it.” The expression on his face softened. “You have to understand, Guinevere was just turned twelve when we were married. She was a child to me—a lovely child, but nothing more. It was a political alliance advanced and encouraged by my counsellors. Even Merlin approved once he arranged to meet her before the negotiations were completed.” He fell silent and I guessed he was now questioning Merlin’s true motivation. “We were married in a church. Though I’d converted for the sake of my subjects and had some belief in the new religion, my heart was still tied to the old ways.”

And to Morgan.

Arthur nodded as if he could see my thoughts on my face. “I was already married to Morgan by the leader of the druids, and we were bound by magic. Ours was my true marriage. My knights and closest confidants knew and accepted this, but the people only knew and loved Guinevere. I thought she was content with the arrangement.”

Chalk another one up for male pattern blindness.

The king smiled sadly. “I would never have begrudged Guinevere any happiness in our arrangement. There was a young man at court I thought had caught her eye. He had a funny, foreign name I can’t quite remember, but when he converted to Christianity and became a monk, I thought it was because she’d finished with him.”

Great. Mommy’s a ho.

“But to think that she had a child with Merlin,” he continued, “and that child is you, is almost inconceivable.”

Taliesin raised his hand. “There is much we still do not know of Guinevere’s involvement in this matter, though I suspect that Rhiannon could enlighten us somewhat. What remains to us now is that while the Grail might save Morgana’s life . . .” His voice caught and I could see his fear that the woman he loved might die. “While the Grail might save her, magic always has a price. And even if we were willing to pay it, we have no idea where the Grail is or what Path leads to it. Goodfellow’s missing Guide took that secret to their grave.”

That’s not exactly true.

“That’s not exactly true.” For once, I’d said exactly what I was thinking. “I know a little something about binding spells. Arthur should be able to tell if Morgan will make it through the night or not. Will she?”

The king’s gaze turned inward, then he blinked and nodded. “She remains near death, but it is still at bay.”

“Then we still have time. We might as well all sit down and have dinner because there’s a lot I need to tell you.”

One of Arthur’s powers was his sensitivity to the hearts and minds of his subjects. “You know where the Grail is.” It wasn’t a question. “Where?”

Everyone was staring at me, making me want to disappear, but I forced myself to smile. “At the Bellagio, of course. Where else would it be?”

What proceeded was probably one of the strangest Christmas dinners ever. It began with the suggestion of a truce between worldwide forces of magic and ended with Taliesin and Arthur slicing their palms and mingling their blood to seal it. In between, I told them everything. Almost.

Water, fire, air—bound by the earth that contains them all, our personal earth of blood, flesh, and bone.

Blood was the most convenient aspect of earth to spill or share. For the first time, I wondered what magic someone could perform with flesh or bone. The morbid thought only partially distracted me from the nagging sense of guilt over what I hadn’t divulged. I’d told them that Cleo was in an alliance with Merlin, but didn’t mention she was also my half-sister. I didn’t mention Redcap’s reference to my starring role in a doomsday prophesy, but Daley had probably already told Taliesin. I also minimized my account of the vision the Mari Lwyd gave me. I did expand on the tale of how Merlin had appeared to me and killed Seolan, and that he was searching for Guinevere, but I didn’t tell them I’d been forced to agree to help. I was keeping that information private in case I needed it to save my own skin. The truth was that I had no real allegiance with anyone at the table except Peter. None of them, none of us, were pure in either action or motive. Who was I to say whether Merlin was the real monster or not?

Except he threatened to explode your skull from the inside out, Rhi.

The unexpected bright spot in the evening was when Daley handed out his presents at the end of dinner. Taliesin eagerly ripped open a box of expensive looking chocolate truffles. It humanized him a bit to discover he had a serious sweet tooth. Tynan had gone down to the media room to hook up the gaming equipment Daley had given him and Miko had followed even though she seemed reluctant to leave. Daley had given her an explosion of black tulle that was some sort of a skirt, but it lay forgotten on the chair. She’d spent the night gazing at Titania as if fascinated. I’d assumed that since Miko was half fairy, she was at least used to other fairies, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

Peter and I had gifts too. Peter’s was a quite deadly-looking gun which I was sure Daley hadn’t picked up on our trip to the mall. My best friend looked beyond thrilled.

Guns can kill some creatures just as well as a sword or magic can.

I didn’t know what to make of my own gift. Inside the small box was a silver bracelet with a single charm hanging from it—a charm in the same shape as the one in my vision. I knew it was a common Celtic shape, and he couldn’t realize its significance, but it didn’t feel like a coincidence.

“It’s beautiful.”

Daley’s small smiles were more precious for how rare they were. “It’s only fair that I found you something to replace this.” He touched the charm hanging on the long chain around his neck—the Wheel of Taranis in its dormant state. I’d found it among Viviane’s things, but it was Daley’s birthright. As he helped me fasten the bracelet around my wrist, electricity arced along the metal, sparking us both. It startled me into a laugh and his smile deepened. My breath caught. Peter had once told me that the real message of the Christmas season was hope. When Daley brushed my skin with his fingertips and trails of silver followed, I finally understood how powerful that emotion could be.

“Thank you,” I murmured, afraid to say more and ruin it.

“I think . . .” He stopped and started again. “I know that what happened to Melusine wasn’t really your fault.” He continued to hold my hand, staring down at the bracelet on my wrist. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to get past it.”

Consumed with the sensation of his skin against mine, it took me a moment to realize he was waiting for me to respond. “I understand.”

He looked up suddenly. “Do you? I’m not sure I do. Miko says that part of what was between me and Mel was magic. She says it’s why I’m finding it so hard to let go.”

I was finding it hard to breathe. “You loved her.”

Daley’s gaze turned inward and he dropped my hand. “It feels like I always will.” Silver hope faded at his words.

“I still think we should go now.” Arthur’s heated declaration to Taliesin interrupted the moment. Avoiding my eyes, Daley said he was going to go help Tynan set up his equipment. I was left in the awkward position of not wanting to chase him, but not wanting to be left alone with the bickering adults either.

Taliesin sighed; they’d already had this same argument several times over dinner. “We must wait for Goodfellow to arrive, and he was miles away from the nearest Path adjudicating some conflict among the Guides.”

“I can walk a Path myself. I don’t need Puck’s help.” I noticed how Titania stiffened when Arthur called Goodfellow by that name. Bedivere and the ginger-haired woman shared knowing look, but otherwise hadn’t said much during dinner. They ate like soldiers—quickly and heartily, ready to be finished and gone at a moment’s notice.

“You can walk the Paths, my lord, but the Green Man is the master of them.” There was an edge of impatience in the bard’s voice; the alliance was already wearing thin. “From what Rhiannon has described, this is no ordinary Path. I have never heard of one which passed through water. It may only have been a vision from the Mari Lwyd and not a true Path at all. It might even be a trap. In any case, we need to tread carefully.”

Arthur subsided with a huff of frustration, but I knew he wasn’t just being petty—the man was sick with fear for Morgan. Between his fear and Taliesin’s, the air felt like it was being filled with white smoke, and I was just about to slip away to somewhere more comfortable when there was a pounding on the front door.

Arthur immediately became the great leader that legend named him. Calling out commands, he had Taliesin covered by Titania, Bedivere guarding himself, and the ginger-haired woman stationed at the window with her gun out, scanning for threats.

Maybe it was the fact that I’d been left out of the protection detail that put the snark into my voice. “What’s wrong with you people? It’s just someone at the door for crying out loud!”

The pounding continued as I left the dining room and passed through the house to the foyer, forcing myself not to run. I didn’t look back, but I could hear people gathering behind me and guessed that everyone in the house had come to investigate.

Another round of frantic banging. “I’m coming,” I muttered under my breath. “Don't have an aneurysm over it.” There was one last slightly muffled thump and then nothing. The door was solid wood and heavy; it took me a moment to wrench it open.

Thomas Redcap tumbled through onto the marble floor at my feet, bleeding from several long cuts that had shredded his shirt. I stared at him in shock.

His eyelids fluttered open. “Monster,” he whispered. “There’s a monster loose in Las Vegas.”

CHAPTER NINE

ALIZARIN

“Search the grounds!” The unnatural amplification of Taliesin’s voice made everyone jump. “Make sure nothing followed him back here.” The Protectors who’d remained for the evening rushed outside to obey, but Taliesin stopped Peter, Daley, and Tynan. “You three stay here in case anything gets past them.” Arthur directed his people with silent motions to do the same. Miko tried to follow Titania to her position near the door, but the fairy waved her back.

“Rhiannon,” Redcap whispered, but I couldn’t move. I just stared down at him.

Arthur bent over and put Redcap’s arm over his shoulders, pulling him to his feet and leading him to the living room. “Come, man, just a few more steps and we’ll have you resting somewhere more comfortable than the floor.” I could see genuine concern on the king’s face.

The face of a man I could follow.

I pushed the thought away at the same time Redcap pushed himself away from Arthur.

“Your wounds, Thomas,” Taliesin cautioned.

Redcap shook his head. “They’re not that bad. It only caught me with a glancing blow, but I was forced to use my . . .” He paused, protective as ever of the secrets of his people, even though he was the last of them. He took a breath. “I was forced to use my abilities to get here as quick as I could without the call of a Great One’s death to guide me. It almost killed me.”

Taliesin frowned. “How is that even possible?”

Redcap swayed and Arthur caught him again, lowering him down to a sofa. “There is death here, close by.” Redcap was looking right at Miko. “Something has died and a new thing has risen in its place.”

There was a frozen moment of terrible silence and then Miko ran from the room. I started to follow, but Taliesin motioned for me to stop. “There is no urgency to the mystery of Miko’s condition. There is, however, great urgency to find the source of the claws which did that.” He was pointing at the bloody cuts on Redcap’s chest. “What did you see, Thomas Redcap?”

The man took a shuddering breath. “I’ve been keeping an eye on the Bellagio ever since we caught sight of the Mari Lwyd this morning.” He jerked his chin towards me. “She told you about that?” Taliesin nodded and Redcap continued, “I could see that something was wrong. Cleo was in and out of the place all day. I followed her assistant Iris when she left and convinced her to tell me what was going on. She said that since we’d disturbed the wards on the hotel by trespassing—and by ‘we’, I mean you two since I’ve always been exempt from them—Cleo had been waiting for the sorcerer she employs to come and reset them. Iris thought she seemed almost afraid about the delay. I went back to the Bellagio after dark. It was almost midnight, when I saw . . .” He glanced at me again.

“What?” Taliesin prodded.

“I thought I saw Rhiannon riding the Mari Lwyd.”

Redcap’s uncanny ability to see me, truly see me.

Since this wasn’t exactly new information, Arthur shifted impatiently. “What then?”

“Something came out of the water. Something big. And even the Mundanes could see it. I tried to stop it, but . . .” Redcap’s face crumpled with anguish. “It killed anything Mundane in its way! There were children in the crowd! Women holding babies in their arms!” He covered his face with his hands.

Daley ran to the console and pushed the button that brought the TV up out of it. Turning it on, the screen filled with an image of the Bellagio surrounded by emergency vehicles. A reporter stood in front telling a tale of carnage and confusion. Survivors claimed some sort of animal had attacked them—an animal with the head and neck of a snake, the body of a leopard, the legs of a lion, and the cloven hooves of a deer.

There was an audible gasp and I turned to see Titania staring at the TV with wide eyes. “My lord! It can’t be!”

“But it is. The Questing Beast has returned.” Arthur touched Redcap on the shoulder. “You said it only killed Mundanes. How do you know?”

Taking a shuddering breath, Redcap looked up. “There were two Greylanders and an untrained earth magician right in its path, but it stepped around them.”

Arthur and Taliesin shared a look. “It’s a trap then,” Arthur said simply. Taliesin nodded in agreement.

“What do you mean ‘it’s a trap’?” Peter yelped. I could tell through our bond that he was on the verge of panic.

Redcap stood. “He means the creature wanted to make sure someone with magic would witness and bring word here. That’s why it only scratched me when I tried to engage it.”

As I continued to listen in white horror to the reporter tabulating the casualties, I knew Redcap was almost right. Stepping in front of the TV to make sure all eyes were on me, I pushed up my sleeve and held out my arm. As I let rage sweep away the horror, flames erupted from my skin. “It’s not a trap for you, Taliesin, and not even for you, Arthur. The trap is for me. There’s a fire in the depths of the Grail that’s calling to me, promising to fill me with its power. These flames belong to it.” Then I said the words that I suspected would make an enemy of Arthur forever. “Just like Excalibur, the Grail is mine.”

But he surprised me. Ignoring the fire, he grasped my outstretched hand and the flames went out as if even the elements obeyed his command. “I am the Earth King still. I can help you bear this burden.” Arthur’s face shone and the majestic purple of his power filled me. Without meaning to, I took some of it into myself, and for a moment, I understood what it felt like to be a king.

I pulled away before I couldn’t stop myself from taking more, or before I fell to my knees and pledged my allegiance—I wasn’t sure which I was closest to. “Thank you.” As Arthur smiled in response and inclined his head towards me, he didn’t seem to realize that I’d drawn some of his power away.

Not that he would. He’s got mojo to spare.

“We should go now. We should strike at the Fisher King before the creature comes back.” Lurking in the shadows on the far side of the room, Tynan had been silent for so long that I’d almost forgotten he was there.

Arthur considered for a moment before shaking his head. “No, my son, Taliesin is right. We’ll wait for Puck.” He sighed when Titania turned away. “We’ll wait for Robin Goodfellow,” he amended. “The beast wants to draw us out now when the presence of so many Mundanes will confuse the situation. We can’t risk an even greater loss of life among them.”

Tynan bowed his head. “You’re right, Father. I’m sorry.” Taliesin quickly hid the hurt look on his face and I wondered if he knew he’d already lost his adopted son to Arthur.

When Redcap swayed, I was the nearest shoulder for him to lean on. “Sorry, love, but if I could just lie down somewhere quiet for a minute, that would be brilliant.” A hint of the familiar twinkle in his red-streaked irises returned as he winked at me. “I wasn’t trying to cop a feel, though with a hot chickie like yourself, it’s tempting." He winked at me. "Hot—get it?” I suppressed a tart retort when the weight of his hand on my shoulder increased. He was trying to hide it, but he was having a difficult time staying upright.

“You can lie down in my room.” When he had no cheeky punchline for such an easy set up, I knew just how difficult.

“I’ll get something to clean up his wounds,” Peter offered and I nodded my thanks.

Urgent conversation closed around us as we left. Between my shoulder and the wall, Redcap made it down the hall and into the room where he collapsed on the bed before I could even pull the covers down for him. As I picked up a throw to lay over his legs, he grasped my wrist. The silver charm bit into my skin from the pressure of his hand, but when he whispered, “Mo lenahb,” I held still.

“I’m not a child,” I reminded him gently. As I sat down on the bed beside him, he winced at the movement. “Sorry. How bad is it?” Between the shredded shirt and the blood that had already dried, I couldn’t tell.

“Not bad. It was the abuse of my power to come here that . . . I couldn’t . . .” Closing his eyes, he seemed too weary to finish.

“It’s all right. Don’t speak.” I couldn’t stop myself from smoothing the hair back from his forehead. Marveling at the way it glinted with red the same way his eyes did, I wondered where his cap was and hoped he hadn’t lost it in the attack.

Redcap turned his face towards me, but his eyes remained closed. “There’s a bat in the belfry, Rhiannon Lynne,” he murmured. He was delirious.

“That’s not my name anymore either.” But he was either sleeping or unconscious.

Peter entered the room carrying a bowl filled with water and some bandages. He stopped when he saw Redcap on the bed. “Is he . . .?”

“He’s just sleeping.”

Putting the bowl and bandages on the bedside table, Peter pulled a small pair of scissors from his pocket. “Can you get some towels?” When I returned from the bathroom with an armful of towels, he’d already cut Redcap’s shirt away. As I watched him dip one of the towels in the water and carefully wipe away the dried blood, I was impressed.

“How do you know what to do?”

Peter’s fair eyebrows lifted in surprise. “I got my First Aid badge at Scouts years ago.” When I just stared at him, he laughed. “What do you think I was doing every Wednesday night up at the church anyway?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Human sacrifice? Running a Ponzi scheme? Since Viviane would never let me go, I figured it must be pretty bad.”

Peter shook his head. Through our bond, I could feel the words he was thinking about my foster mother, but was too polite to actually say.

Cleaned of blood, Redcap’s chest was muscular, but surprisingly white and hairless. I smiled when I remembered the first time we met on Carefree Lake, when the wind blew his cap away, and he told me how he, a true Scotsman, burned in the sun without it.

Peter gathered up the ragged remnants of bloody cloth and threw them in the waste paper basket by the desk. “He was right. These are really just scratches. I don’t think he even needs the bandages.” Peter frowned. “But where did all the blood come from then?”

The world went white. I had to sit back down on the bed fast before I fell. “Maybe it wasn’t his blood.”

Peter swallowed hard. “I’ll bring a new shirt for when he wakes up.”

“Can you go find out what’s going on out there first? I’ll keep an eye on him just in case.” He agreed and slipped out of the room, promising to update me soon. Once the door closed behind him with a soft click, I reached under the bed and found Excalibur by feel. I’d left the cloaking spell on so the sword was invisible in my hands when I pulled it out, but the solid weight was reassuring. The confidence of its gold power made me straighten my spine.

“If Arthur is still the Earth King, why did you choose me? What do you want from me?” As ever, I sensed an awareness, a kind of proto-life in the sword, but there was no answer. And now another talisman of the earth magic—that by all rights should belong to Arthur—had claimed me as well.

Placing the sword within reach at the end of the bed, I lay down beside Redcap and pulled the blanket over us both. As I nestled into his side, his strange, russet heat was comforting. His magic was apples, blood, and warm earth, with flashes of ebony that spoke of the implacable cruelty at the heart of a redcap’s nature. Thomas hid that side of himself well. He didn’t want to be a monster.

Shame filled me as I remembered that was exactly what I’d called him. I’d driven away the one person whose magic didn’t tempt me at all. Maybe it was because our magic was similar in some ways. We both took the essence of someone, of their power, into ourselves. Redcap had chosen to follow his nature for noble reasons.

Why do I do it?

The answer was in the hunger that the taste of Arthur’s power had awakened. It followed me into a troubled, amethyst-tinged sleep.

I dreamed.

I was standing on a path in a forest—an ordinary path of dirt and trampled grass. Raising my face to the light filtering in through the trees, I took a deep breath of air scented with loam and moss. It was a perfect day, but I knew I couldn’t linger. As I began to walk, I realized that others walked with me—my friends. As we travelled deeper into the forest, the day darkened around us. One by one, my friends stepped onto paths that branched away and disappeared into the trees. Tynan and Daley were the last to leave and then only Redcap stood beside me. His eyes were red with flame, and when he spoke, his voice was not his own.

“Remember, before the gates of Hell, a lamp is burning.”

“What does that mean?” my dream-self asked, but Redcap turned and walked away. They had all abandoned me. When I looked down, I understood why—the path had become a stream swirling with blood. As it began to rise, I knew I was going to drown in it.

The pain woke me up. Confused at the neon green light pulsing before my eyes, it took me a moment to realize it was only the screen of the alarm clock glowing in the darkness. It read 4:00 a.m. When I rolled over, I realized that Redcap was gone.

My legs were tangled in the throw. Kicking it off, I stumbled to the bathroom to splash some water on my face, but it couldn’t cool the heat of my skin. Leaning on the granite counter for support, I tried to call on the barrier spell I’d perfected to wall myself off from the awareness of pain, but it eluded me. As I sank to the ground, it rose, tearing through my skull and shredding all thought. I’d come to Las Vegas expecting that I might die from the damage that magic was doing to my body—from what the doctors said was a tumor in my brain—but I hadn’t truly understood the capacity for suffering in a human body.

The sound of the door to my room opening scraped at my brain. “Rhi? Are you awake?” a hushed voice asked. “It’s me. Thomas. Goodfellow just arrived. Arthur wants to head out before the sun comes up.” I could hear Redcap flicking the light switch on. “Rhi?”

“In here.” At least, that’s what I tried to say. What came out was more like a cross between a grunt and a howl.

When Redcap rushed in, the sound vibrated through me in waves of agony, but I couldn’t open my eyes or resist when he pulled me into his arms, cradling me on the bathroom floor. “Mo ghaoil, mo ghaoil,” he whispered over and over.

Time was lost in a maelstrom of pain. Finally it crested and broke like a wave on sand and I was finally able to draw on the dark indigo that always lingered near Taliesin to create a barrier between my awareness and the corruption in my brain. If I kept using his indigo to re-make the barrier, Taliesin might eventually lose the ability connected to it—his ability to temporarily bind the powers of those in his home. I didn’t care. All that mattered was stopping the pain. The Grail was calling to me, seeking to fill me with its magic, but it was magic that was killing me.

When I could think again, I realized Redcap was sitting with his back against the wall, and that he’d pulled me onto his lap. My head was resting against his chest, now clothed in one of Peter’s shirts. “What does mo ghaoil mean?” My voice was a harsh croak.

Redcap sounded almost embarrassed when he laughed. “Ah, you heard that, did you? You keep telling me you don’t want to be called a child anymore, so I thought I’d try my beloved and see if you liked it any better.”

I lifted my head so I could see his face, but the motion made my brain swim and I sank towards him instead. His mouth brushed against my cheek. I wanted to pull away. At least, I told myself I did, but I felt powerless to move.

Redcap’s indrawn breath tickled my skin. For a moment, he was still, but then his lips trailed across my face, kissing the hollow beneath my jaw, whispering over my eyelids, heading inevitably, inexorably to my mouth. At first, his touch was tentative, tender, hardly more than a feather’s weight of pressure.

Butterfly kisses.

I smiled at the thought, and the movement of my mouth against his made him bolder. He pushed against me and my lips parted. The kiss became deeper, insistent. The colors that filled me were too close to the shades of anger for safety, but I couldn’t stop him. His arms tightened around me. I was trapped, but I didn’t care. I’d never been kissed like this—I’d never even dreamed of being kissed like this—and it didn’t matter to me anymore that I wasn’t sure how I actually felt about Thomas Redcap. All that mattered was his mouth, and his hands that were now running through my hair and down my back.

When he kissed my neck, the sound of my own gasp surprised me. I felt a sharp nip just above my jugular vein, and then a warm trickle of blood over my collarbone. I didn’t pull away.

He did. Sliding me off his lap, he stood and then helped me to my feet. I could hardly bear to look at him. When I dared a glance, the expression on his face was unreadable.

I was cold now. As I began to shiver, he ran his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry, mo. . .” He stopped himself and took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have done that. The essences inside me . . . your presence makes them restless.” When he looked at me to make sure I understood, his eyes shone pure red. “There are too many powerful essences, all more aware than they should be.” When he touched my cheek with gentle fingers, I wanted to burst into tears. “They find you irresistible, like moths to a flame.”

“Thomas,” I whispered, but the use of his true name seemed to undo him and he turned and left. I followed, but he kept his back to me as he said over his shoulder, “Arthur wants you to leave Excalibur here. He believes its presence will warn the beast of our approach.” Without waiting for my reply, he left the room.

“Wait!” I chased him into the hall and almost ran into Tynan and Daley who were now dressed in leather jackets with guns holstered beneath them. Ty also held the dagger with the intricate hilt that Daley had almost lost at the Bellagio. The two of them looked at Redcap in surprise as he pushed past them with a murmured curse.

“Is everything all right?” Tynan asked. Daley just stared at me with a hard look on his face before following Redcap.

“Fine,” I muttered.

Tynan raised an eyebrow at me. “Well, if you were trying to make my brother jealous, you succeeded beautifully.”

“I’m not trying to do anything.”

“Then you’re playing with fire. With both of them.” He took a step closer—close enough for me to touch his chest and feel the beat of his magically constructed heart, but I knew it would only echo mine. When I looked up, his eyes were dark opposites of Redcap’s.

Leaning close, Tynan whispered in my ear, “You should forget my brother and the redcap. I have chaos in me. You eat chaos. We would get on very well together.”

With a smile that never reach his eyes, it was Mordred who walked away.

CHAPTER TEN

CERISE

I returned to my room and quickly dressed in more battle-ready clothes, but I was still the last one to gather in the great room.

Peter motioned for me to join him. “Here. This is for you.” He held a silver automatic in his hand.

“What am I supposed to do with that?”

“When I heard Arthur didn’t want you to bring Excalibur, I convinced Aneirin that you needed something to defend yourself.” Aneirin was the senior Protector who’d taken on Peter’s training along with Daley. Peter idolized the man. I’d seen him on the property but had never been introduced. In fact, most of the Protectors seemed intent on avoiding me and I didn’t know any others by name. When I’d asked Peter what was going on, he’d admitted that Taliesin’s people were a little afraid of me.

“I hope I don’t accidentally shoot one of us,” I muttered as Peter showed me the safety. The gun was small enough to slip into the back pocket of my jeans, and as I tugged the bottom of my jacket down to cover it, I felt like a gangbanger. “So did they explain what a Questing Beast is while I was gone?”

He nodded. “It’s a sort of hybrid monster. Arthur said he and his knights hunted and fought it a number of times, but were never able to do more than chase it off. Prospective knights were sent on quests to find it, so the name stuck.”

“Great. How are we expected to stop it then?”

Grinning, Peter opened his coat to show me the gun Daley had given him—a much bigger version of mine.

I looked around. The room was a lot more crowded than when I’d left it. Most of the Protectors who’d been dismissed to their own homes had returned. The majority were strapping on modern weaponry, but a few carried swords and one even had a bow strapped across her back.

Christmas is cancelled, boys and girls. We’ve all been very naughty.

“Where’s Miko?” I asked. Frowning, Peter jerked his chin towards the far end of the room where Miko was talking animatedly with Titania. “They’re pretty chummy all of a sudden, aren’t they?”

He nodded. “Arthur’s people bother me. Bedivere hardly says a word and that older woman keeps staring at me. And you know who Titania is, right? Remember English 101? Titania and Oberon?”

“You’re kidding me. That Titania? A Midsummer Night's Dream’s Titania?”

“Yup. I guess Shakespeare wasn’t such a creative genius after all. More like just a reporter.”

“Wow. Just, wow. I don’t know why anything surprises me anymore.”

When Peter laughed, Miko looked over at us, then very deliberately turned her back and continued in conversation with the other fairy. Peter’s face fell.

I touched his arm. “It’s good that she has someone of her own kind to talk to. Maybe Titania can help her figure things out.”

“Maybe. C’mon, it looks like we’re getting ready to go. Where’s Redcap?”

I looked at him in surprise. “I don’t know. Isn’t he here?”

“The redcap has been sent to distract his ex-wife, the alluring Cleopatra.” When I turned, I tried not to let Goodfellow see how pleased I was to see him. Robin Goodfellow, Sylvanus, Jack in the Green, Robin Hood, Lord Forest, Puck—they were all his names, though the only true one was the Green Man. Giving me a little bow, he nodded pleasantly to Peter. “Well met, you two. I see the desert air agrees with you both.”

“I love it here,” Peter declared enthusiastically.

“Hello, Goodfellow,” I said coolly.

The man chuckled. “Come now, Rhiannon Caerleon,” he stressed the alias he’d given me, “let us be friends again.” Even in the desert, his red hair and beard glistened with scattered drops of dew, and he was dressed head to toe in forest green.

In the face of his cheerfulness, I relented. “Fine. But just remember that fire trumps forest every time.” I held out my hand and allowed a small tongue of flame to leap from my palm, gratified at the flicker of surprise in the man’s eyes. Goodfellow might be the Lord of the Forest, but I wanted to make sure he remembered what would happen if he betrayed me again. “What took you so long anyway?”

The ever-present aura around this man of green and growing things made it difficult to detect any change in his emotional state, but a hint of mauve unease was teasing at the edges of my mind. My suspicion was heightened when he wouldn’t meet my eyes. “There was trouble among my kin overseas which required my presence.”

I shared a look with Peter and knew he was thinking the same thing; Goodfellow was definitely hiding something. I was about to press it when Titania approached and interrupted us.

“Hello, Puck.” She made the name sound like a curse and there was real fear in the Green Man’s eyes when he turned to face her.

“Titania,” he murmured, bowing low.

“You look well.”

Goodfellow’s eyes widened as if she’d just slapped him. “Yes. Thank you. Yes, my lady. If you’ll excuse me, I think Taliesin is looking for me.” As he hurried away, the fairy watched him go with a satisfied expression on her face.

“What was that all about?” I blurted out.

The way Titania stretched her neck and shook her red mohawk reminded me of an exotic bird. “Puck once took my husband’s side in a conflict over one of my human servants.” Her smile had no humor in it. “I’m aware they teach that little playwright’s version of the story in your schools. What the talentless hack neglected to say was how Oberon killed the boy, or how Puck shielded my husband from my wrath by letting him escape on a Path. Puck was once my friend, but he was more interested in freeing the forests from the hands of Man than he was in the life of one small boy. He foolishly believed every false promise Oberon made him.” She shook her head again. “You cannot trust him.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Peter protested, but I was already nodding in agreement. I’d learned that Goodfellow’s loyalties were divided. When it came down to it, he would choose his own kind first.

Titania made a graceful motion with her arms to indicating something behind herself and then in front. “I want you to know that I was happy when I heard the Lady of the Lake had returned to this earthly realm, though I hear much changed.” Her gaze was direct and a little intimidating.

“Were you close to Viviane?” I didn’t admit that I’d seen her at the hospital.

“I think you know that friend was not a word often used in connection with Viviane, so, no, not friends exactly, but perhaps kindred spirits.” Despite her extremely modern and edgy hair and clothing, when the woman smiled, she seemed ancient. With another movement like a cockatoo bending its crested head, she took her leave of us and glided back to Miko who appeared extremely impatient for her return. The two were soon huddled again in deep conversation.

Peter whistled. “Now I know what to do my senior English essay on. I’ll be able to come up with a whole new approach to Shakespeare.”

Arthur held up his hands for quiet. “Protectors, you will take the rear while my people go ahead. We will be travelling via the Path, but Goodfellow has informed me that the closest it will bring us to the Bellagio is about a block north of it. Once we’re on the ground, fan out to avoid alarming the Mundanes, but keep in view of one another. We don’t expect to meet any resistance until we reach the hotel.”

“There’s a Path nearby?” I whispered to Peter.

He snorted. “How do you think Arthur got here so fast?”

Arthur continued, “We know the attack at the fountains was a ruse to draw us out. The Questing Beast is a fearsome foe. Our purpose is to give Robin Goodfellow enough time to find the Path which leads to the Grail. Your mission will be to draw the beast away so that we can enter and find it. Don’t engage the creature if you can help it.” He nodded to Taliesin. “We leave now!”

I followed Peter to a position just behind Arthur, Taliesin, Daley, and Tynan. Titania and Miko were behind us. Goodfellow took the lead flanked by Bedivere and the ginger-haired woman. One by one, we filed outside and began walking.

“Where’s this Path?” I asked, not too pleased that no one had ever bothered to tell me we were practically sitting on top of one.

Peter’s chuckle only annoyed me further. “Just keep walking.”

When we reached the end of the driveway, Goodfellow placed a hand on each side of the iron gate and pushed. As those in front of us walked through, they disappeared. Peter walked backwards into thin air, winking at me before vanishing.

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Taking a deep breath, I stepped through.

And almost walked straight into a woman teetering down the sidewalk in four inch heels. “Sorry!” I apologized quickly when she glared at me. Even though it was early Christmas morning, and still dark, Las Vegas was a city that didn’t sleep. People still roamed the streets, most in party mode, so the sudden appearance of a small army didn’t attract too much attention.

“Where are we?”

Peter pointed at the winged statue rising from the circular pond in front of a huge Christmas tree. Behind it was one of the largest hotel/casinos. Caesars Palace was written in light on the side.

“Keep moving,” Titania commanded after she and Miko came through. “This isn’t a sight-seeing tour.”

Even with the darkness making the world unfamiliar, the Bellagio was easy to spot. Police cars and emergency vehicles were still parked outside, not to mention several news station vans. I was just wondering how we were going to get anywhere near the fountains when a policeman stepped over the crime scene tape and approached Taliesin.

“Officer Prescott,” the bard greeted him.

“Mr. Taliesin. The mayor said you would be on your way. I take it this is under your jurisdiction then?”

“If you don’t mind, Officer.”

“It’s all yours. Just give me something I can use this time. And don’t say a gas leak; we’ve gone to that well too many times.”

“We will think of something.”

The officer nodded. “You want us to clear out? It might look fishy to the Press.”

“Having everyone move back should be sufficient as long as we have unobstructed access to the fountains and no clear sightline on us.”

“How long do you need?”

Taliesin shared a look with Arthur. “I think an hour will give us enough time.”

The officer sighed and then began motioning to the crowd. “All right everyone, listen up! We need you to move back at least fifty yards from the crime scene for your own safety! We have a potential gas leak on the site!” He glanced at Taliesin and shrugged. “Oldies but goodies.”

It took a few minutes for the reporters to gather their equipment into their vans and move down the street. There wasn’t too much grumbling; in a twenty-four hour news cycle, this one was already getting old. The bodies had been taken away and there was nothing left to photograph except chalk outlines on the ground. The reporters continued to busy themselves interviewing witnesses a safer distance away, but I wondered how Taliesin would ever cover the story up, even with the help of the local authorities. Miko, Titania, and the other Protectors had created a loose line to block the sight of our activities from any overly curious bystanders. The police made a second line a few yards away from that.

Arthur was peering into the huge pool that housed the Bellagio’s fountains. “Rhiannon,” he called, “come here and show me where you saw the Grail.”

But I couldn’t move. I was staring at a small chalk outline and a tiny shoe forgotten on the ground. There was a terrible pain over my heart. A gasp made me look up; Tynan had his hand to his chest and his face was pale. I felt the magic which had replaced his heart beat a fraction of a second after mine.

I couldn’t stop staring into his dark eyes. “This is my fault.” I didn’t know if I was telling him or myself.

Arthur strode over to stand in front of me, breaking the connection with Tynan.  “You didn’t do this. That creature did. Tell us again what you remember, so we can stop it.”

Some of his great confidence and majesty slipped through the barrier of our skins. Strengthened by the royal amethyst of his power, I was able to step away from the sad little memorial. Arthur guided me back to the pool and Peter followed, but Tynan remained standing over the chalk outline.

Goodfellow acknowledged my arrival then resumed gazing into the water. The police had put up portable work lights for the retrieval of the bodies and examination of the crime scene. Between them and the Bellagio’s own lights, it was difficult to see the bottom of the pool clearly.

The Green Man appeared troubled. “There’s something strange here. It’s not a Path exactly, and yet . . . Rhiannon, what did you see?”

I put my hands on the edge and leaned over, recreating the memory. “There was gold on the bottom. I thought it was from coins that tourists throw in, but when I looked closer, I could see the Grail. Fire was burning in it. It had to have been a vision. It couldn’t have been real.” I trailed my hand across the water, but nothing appeared beneath it.

Peter snorted impatiently. “Well something came out of there and killed a bunch of people! If it’s not a Path, then what is it?”

Goodfellow shook his head. “I could be wrong, but I think it’s a back door.”

“A back door to where?” Arthur demanded.

“Avalon.”

A sudden commotion down by the police line caught my attention and I looked up to see Redcap struggling to get through, pulling Cleo after him.

“Rhiannon! It’s a trap! Get away!” He broke through the line just as the head of a giant snake surged out of the water. I stared at it, transfixed as it darted towards me. The jaws opened and fastened on my forearm, pulling me down into the pool.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

BERRY

The Questing Beast dragged me deeper than was possible in the Bellagio’s pool and then back up through flowing water that could only be a river. It deposited me near the bank and then climbed out, keeping its distance but regarding me steadily. Pulling myself up onto the grass, I lay there coughing and sputtering until I could breathe again. My arm ached a little, but otherwise, I wasn’t hurt.

Just as I was starting to get bored playing the staring game with a monster, Goodfellow appeared out of thin air and stepped out of the water followed by Arthur, Taliesin, Peter, Daley, and Tynan. The sour thought crossed my mind that having the Lord of the Paths with you meant you didn’t have to be half-drowned to pass through whatever it was we’d just come through.

“Are you all right?” Peter rushed over, but I put my hand up to stop him from helping me stand.

“Nothing a little CPR won’t fix.”

The Questing Beast lifted its head and made a noise almost impossible to describe. The closest would be to say it sounded like a pack of Cŵn Annwn were trapped in its belly and trying to chew their way out. A shimmer enveloped it as the snake head, leopard body, lion legs, and cloven hooves contracted into the shape of a dark-skinned woman with long black braids.

Rolling her head and shoulders, she appeared relieved to have changed forms. When she noticed us staring, her smile was friendly, but she ducked her head shyly. “Greetings to you all. I am Dindrane,” she said graciously. “It is my pleasure to welcome you to these shores on the borders of Avalon.” Her mouth tightened. “This is the domain of the Fisher King. Please come with me. My master is waiting for you farther downstream.”

I didn’t care how pleasant the woman sounded, I could still feel the imprint of her fanged mouth on my arm. “I don’t think so! I’m not going anywhere with you! You killed those people . . .” I couldn’t continue; the memory of that small shoe had closed my throat.

The woman turned gracefully towards me, any trace of the monster hidden. “When I am not Dindrane, I am the Questing Beast, but my only glory is in the hunt. When those you are concerned for are taken away, after only a short time they will appear as normal again. All is illusion.” Her shape flickered, allowing me to see the beast beneath for a moment. “Prey is limited here on the edges of the Grey Lands; there is only the hunt and capture, the catch and release. I am the Questing Beast.”

“Yeah, you said that already,” I muttered. I wanted to believe she was telling the truth, but the nervous way she kept glancing over her shoulder didn’t reassure me.

“Please come. It was my lord’s desire to draw you here. I had no choice but to obey. He is waiting for your arrival.”

Peter and I shared a look. “So it was a trap then.”

“Of sorts.”

“And I bet you’re going to tell me it’s for my own good and that no harm will come to me here.”

The woman’s gaze was dark and steady. “No. There is much peril here. I cannot say for certainty that any of you will survive it.

Great.

Arthur stepped forward. “Lead on then.” But he kept his hand hidden underneath his coat where I suspected he carried his own weapon. I longed for Excalibur instead of the gun in my back pocket.

As we followed Dindrane, I took the opportunity to look around. We were in a very different place from where the Mari Lwyd had taken me, though the grey cliffs peeking through the mist in the distance could possibly be the same ones. Here, the grassy banks and trees appeared lush at first, but on closer inspection were dusty and beginning to wilt. When I kneeled down and ran my hand across the blades of grass, several crumbled away to dust under my fingers. Even the water in the river didn’t seem to reflect the weak sunshine the way it should; there was no sparkle in it. The air was odorless, and neither warm nor cold, but I was already as dry as if I’d never been submerged in water.

We rounded a bend in the river to see a red and gold roofed pavilion standing in a clearing. Beneath it, an elderly, white-haired man was sitting in a low-slung chair. He was fishing. Looking up at our approach, his face split into a child-like grin. Hooking his rod to a holder on his chair, the man limped over to greet us.

“Arthur! Taliesin! You can’t know what it means to me to see you both after all these years! Dindrane, don’t just stand around gawking. Fetch us some refreshments.” When he spoke to the woman, his voice became petulant and demanding. I noted the way her shoulders stiffened as she walked out of sight over a rise.

“Come! Sit!” The man motioned to several gilded chairs surrounding a small table.

Arthur approached cautiously. “Do I know you, sir?”

The man’s face fell. “Don’t you know me, my king?”

Frowning, Arthur stared at him until understanding passed over his features. “Galahad?”

The white-haired man was delighted again. “Yes, it’s me! Isn’t it amazing that we should meet here after all these years?”

“Yes, amazing,” Taliesin murmured. “Where are we exactly?”

An expression something less than child-like flickered over Galahad’s face. “Well you’ve been here before, Taliesin. You should recognize the place.” When the bard just looked at him, Galahad gestured impatiently in the direction Dindrane had gone. “Go take a look then.”

Taliesin walked out from under the pavilion and the rest of us followed. Galahad limped along after. I noted that his one leg was bound around the thigh with thick bandages, but faint traces of blood appeared to be seeping through.

At the top of the hill, we had a clear view for miles around. Directly in front of us, a stone path led to a white castle surrounded by lawns and ornamental shrubs. Beyond the castle, the path disappeared into mist which gave fleeting glimpses of a land of ashy rose and moth-wing green, silver and chrome, glittering obsidian and dove grey. It was both beautiful and wrong.

The Grey Lands of Avalon.

“So you are the Fisher King. And you have lured us to Avalon.”

Galahad laughed. “Yes, Dindrane tells me that’s what they call me. But no, we’re not in Avalon exactly. Just on the border.” He turned back towards the river at the bottom of the rise. “This is a place where our world and Avalon overlap and bleed into one another. Merlin uses it to escape, but he’s always drawn back. There’s a spell that prevents him from leaving permanently. Sometimes humans stumble through by accident as well.” He gave me a sidelong look. “But they can never stay for long.”

Goodfellow stepped forward. “Which begs the question, Fisher King, how did you come to find this place?” His voice deepened dangerously. “And where’s my Guide you tricked into bringing you here?”

Galahad cackled. “The Guide you lent me had a secret.  Her name was Yglais. Did you even know that, Lord Forest?”

“I remember Yglais,” Goodfellow growled.

“A pretty girl she was—a wood sprite, I believe.” Galahad clucked his tongue. “She was abused by her own brother, the poor thing. When she became pregnant, she hid the child here after it was born. It was a monster, you see, but she couldn’t destroy it. Even when it sometimes escaped and drew the attention of the Earth King. When I asked Yglais to find me a secret place, she knew just where to bring me.”

“And where’s Yglais now?”

The man’s eyes darted away. “Oh, here and there. Come back to the castle with me. It will be easier to explain when you see.”

“See what?” Arthur asked.

The Fisher King blinked slowly. “Why, the Grail, of course. That’s why you’ve come, isn’t it?”

Goodfellow frowned. “I’ll stay here until Yglais returns.”

“All right, all right.” Galahad waved him away. “I’m sure she’ll be along soon.”

We followed the Fisher King down the path towards the castle. As we walked, the man’s limp became more pronounced and the bandage became soaked with blood. He didn’t slow to check on it but quickened his pace.

Arthur looked at him with concern. “What happened to you, my son?” It was so strange to hear him say that to someone who looked decades older.

The man grimaced. “Do you remember when we were last together? Fleeing our defeat in Avalon? I was badly wounded, but I hid it from you, so desperate to be your brave, pure knight.” There was a twist in his voice. “When we returned home, the healer told me the wound was mortal, but I refused to believe him. Received in a supernatural place, I was sure that supernatural means could heal it. By then, I’d guessed the nature of the vessel that Taliesin had claimed as his spoil from the war. Before I could tell you, you were attacked by Mordred.” He waggled his fingers at Tynan. “Hello there, by the way young man. It’s nice to see you two have made up.”

We had arrived at the castle. Dindrane opened the doors and ushered us into the Great Hall where refreshments were laid out on tables. As Galahad brushed by her, she couldn’t hide a shudder.

“Please,”—he gestured to the tables—“have something to eat and drink while I finish my tale.” When no one moved, he sighed. “Very well, story first, food later. As I was saying, I realized we’d found the Cauldron of Bran, or the Grail as it’s called now, but I was no longer sure of Taliesin’s loyalties.” He inclined his head towards the bard. “You surprised me by agreeing so easily to give it up.”

“I did not know its true nature.” Taliesin’s voice was hard. “You were the youngest and most gallant of Arthur’s knights. Why didn’t you heal your king after you healed yourself?”

The man’s mouth set in an ugly expression. “Do I look healed to you, Taliesin? I didn’t know it at first, but since my wound was both mortal and supernatural, the Grail could only extend my life, not heal me. I must drink from it once every year or I will die a death whose agony will be multiplied each year I’ve cheated it.”

When he turned to me suddenly, his expression changed to one of innocent glee. “Do you want to see it?”

“Of course,” I murmured. When he grabbed my hand to pull me forward, I noted with distaste how long and curved the yellow nails on his hand were.

The Fisher King dragged me to the back of the room where a tapestry covered part of the wall. He motioned impatiently for Dindrane to push it aside. As she pulled it along the rod, an alcove in the wall was revealed. The Grail sat in it. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed Dindrane.

The tapestry must have had a binding spell woven into it, because I couldn’t feel the Grail’s pull until it was pushed aside. Now it beat at me with waves of fire.

“Look inside,” Galahad whispered.

I knew the others had gathered behind me, but it felt as if I was alone in the world with the Grail. Without conscious thought, I cupped my hands underneath it and looked into its depths. Immediately, I was surrounded by a ring of fire. At my feet was a shallow pool of water no more than a foot in diameter. Gold walls rose around me.

Just as I’d somehow understood Excalibur’s true nature, I understood the Grail too. When I released it, I was in my own body again. I took a step back, fighting the Grail’s pull.

I looked at Galahad. “Why hasn’t Merlin taken it from you?”

The man cackled again as if I’d just said the funniest thing in the world. He gestured wildly in the general direction of Avalon. “You’ve seen the Grey Lands. Haven’t you guessed? He’s sucked it dry for millennia. Now he’s a fat spider imprisoned at the center of a web of his own making. He’s full; ripe to bursting. His people are too afraid of his power to rise up against him, and he’s too afraid to use his power and weaken himself. The Grail is no use to him.” The man limped to me and I had to force myself not to flinch when he ran a finger down my cheek. “Merlin is taunted by the bright, shiny world beyond the Wall, and he’s desperate for the power running through it, even though he knows even just a little bit more will destroy him. But a long time ago, he had an idea. What if he could create a nice, plump receptacle for all his power needs?” Galahad leered at me. “Think of it as a battery filled with magic. With one of those, Merlin could absorb all the magic in all the world, funneling it into a container he could access any time he needed. But he needs a special battery; one he’s attuned to through blood.”

Christmas dinner rose in my throat and I had to swallow hard not to spew it on the ground. “What are you saying?”

“Merlin has littered the world with failed experiments like the one who guards the other side of the door you came through. From what I hear, his seed is almost numberless. The only one he has ever created who perfectly meets his desires is you.”

I turned away. “We need to get out of here. It’s a trap.”

Galahad’s screech of laughter was filled with the insanity of hundreds of years alone and a human life unnaturally extended. Blood began to pulse in gouts from the wound in his thigh. “Tell them what you saw, little girl. Tell them about the Grail.”

Ignoring him, I tried to run, but Arthur caught me by the arm. “What did you see?”

“Let go! We need to leave now!”

I shook his hand off. “The Grail is a talisman of the earth magic, of life and death. The fire is a terrible power; I can barely resist it. The water is life, but it’s almost gone. There’s only a mouthful left.” I pointed at the Fisher King. “He’s made a deal! Me for the power of life restored to the Grail!”

“Very good, Rhiannon. I knew you inherited more than just my good looks.” Merlin entered the chamber, looking out of place in a finely tailored, modern suit.

“Why don’t you tell Galahad how you lied to him?” I screamed. “How you tricked him into bringing me here! You can’t restore the Grail. The earth magic will always resist you.” My father only smiled as he sauntered towards me.

“Run!” I yelled at the others, but there was no response. Everyone in the room was frozen. They’d been phased out of Time.

Merlin noticed Tynan standing beside Arthur and frowned. “That’s a surprise. I wouldn’t have thought Arthur would forgive his son’s betrayal.”

“It just goes to show that you know nothing about the love between a father and a child.”

“No, I suppose not.”

“How are you even daring to use your power? Galahad said your people are just waiting for you to be weak enough for them to tear you apart.” The spell he’d used was a complicated weave of many different colors; I could tell it was costing him a great deal of power. Merlin was like me. He could take power, but when he used it, it left him and was gone.

He smiled. “It doesn’t matter now that you’re here, my dear little sponge. I’ve grown tired of waiting for you to find Guinevere and bring the Wall down. When Galahad approached me with his supply and demand problem, I thought it would be a good opportunity to hurry things up a bit. I made a deal with him. If he would give me the Grail, I would tell him how to restore its life-giving waters. I’d even let him come and drink from it once a year for as long as he lived in exile on my borders. All he had to do was bring you here. You and Arthur.”

“What has Arthur got to do with it?”

Merlin held out his hand and a silver wand as narrow and sharp as an ice pick appeared in his hand. “Haven’t you begun to understand yet? Objects of the earth magic embody all its elements—water, fire, and air bound together by earth. Together, they contain Spirit—a human soul in your case, or the essence of magic in the world. All these elements reside in your own body, or have you forgotten how you quickened Excalibur?”

“Blood magic,” I whispered.

“Blood magic,” he agreed, “the highest and purest form through which a human can access the earth’s power.” He laid the tip of the stiletto against Arthur’s neck. “The Grail was last filled long before Bran was betrayed and murdered.” A drop of blood welled up on Arthur’s skin. “The only thing which can re-fill it is all the blood contained in the body of an Earth King. I will drain Arthur and then funnel both aspects of the Grail’s magic into you. Then you and I will uproot the Wall Between Worlds from its foundations and walk out of this prison into a land of possibility.” He paused. “Well, I’ll be walking out. I suspect your mortal brain will have been mashed into a pulp by then, but Cleo promises to put you up in a very nice room where you can desiccate away in peace. By then I will have found Guinevere and impregnated her with your successor.”

So this is the real reason he wants my mother—to turn her into his own personal battery factory.

As Merlin raised his hand for the killing blow, a spray of blood caught him full in the face.

The Questing Beast towered over us, Galahad’s brutally severed head in its mouth. Dindrane hadn’t been in the room when Merlin cast his spell and had managed to evade being caught out of Time. Surprised, he lost his grasp on the spell and it unraveled, throwing the room into chaos.

The beast tossed the head at Merlin’s feet, then with another fluid motion, grasped the Grail and threw it at me. I struggled to catch it and keep my grip, slicing my palm open on the edge when I almost dropped it.

My blood was all the invitation the Grail needed. Defenseless against it, the power of destruction swept through me. Flames erupted from my hands and arms, turning the sleeves of my jacket to ash. Even Merlin stepped back, an expression of fear on his face. The exposed scars on my bare wrists seemed to gape open again. If the Grail had been re-filled, I would have already been blasted out of existence, but I knew I’d only received a portion of its fire yet and I was barely managing to keep the rest of my clothing from going up in flames. My skin would be next. I needed to do something to release some of the power.

Raising my arms, I took aim at my target.

CHAPTER TWELVE

BURGUNDY

It wasn’t just fire that sped from my fingertips towards Merlin—it was a force of pure destruction. As he fell to the ground under its assault, a feeling of exultation filled me, only to be replaced by agony. The world went dark as the Grail slipped from my grasp.

Seconds later, I realized someone was pulling on my arm, cursing at the heat of my skin. It was Daley. Flames still flickered over me intermittently, but Daley was the god of thunder and lightning—they might hurt him, but he wasn’t burned.

Something fell inches form my head, jarring me with its impact. Chunks of stone were falling from the ceiling. Releasing the Grail had allowed me to regain a little bit of control, but my first blast was still going to bring the castle down on top of us.

“Where is he?” I tried to ask between coughing fits. I couldn’t see Merlin through the dust filling the air.

There was a sound like the baying of hounds as the Questing Beast shivered and contracted into a woman. “Get out of here!” Dindrane screamed before returning to her other form.

Daley hauled me forward and I could feel Peter close behind. I pulled away. “The Grail!”

“I’ve got it!” Arthur emerged from a cloud of debris carrying the talisman, followed Taliesin. The Questing Beast lumbered behind them. As we ran up the pathway, the castle collapsed in on itself with a deafening boom. I had no way of knowing if Merlin had escaped or if he’d been buried along with the corpse of the Fisher King.

Goodfellow was waiting for us under the pavilion, staring at the ruin in shock. Taliesin had to cough the dust out of his lungs before he could speak. “Get us home!”

“To the river,” he replied, but when we reached the banks, he hesitated.

“What is it?” Arthur asked, still cradling the Grail to his chest.

“I can feel the Door, but it’s resisting my efforts to open it.”

“Perhaps I can help, my Lord Forest.” An incredibly tiny, green-haired woman appeared out of the mist. “I have much greater familiarity with its tricks.” She held out her hand and the Questing Beast became Dindrane again. The girl stepped past us to take the woman’s hand.

“Yglais?” Goodfellow asked tentatively.

“Yes, my lord. I’m pleased you remember me. It has been a long time.”

“I thought you were surely dead.”

She smiled sadly. “The Fisher King deceived me. I’d stumbled upon this place years before and he convinced me to share my secret.” She hung her head. “I’m ashamed I never told you, my lord, but I needed to keep Dindrane safe. I’m sorry. If I’d come to you with what my brother did to me, Galahad wouldn’t have been able to trap me here. He has kept us both captive all this time, serving his needs.” The hatred in her voice gave a clear picture of what exactly Galahad’s needs had been.

“There is nothing to apologize for.” Goodfellow’s voice was gruff with emotion. “What is the name of the man who hurt you? I’ll see justice done on him.”

Yglais looked up at her daughter, tears glittering in her eyes. Dindrane’s voice was cold. “This was always my intent whenever I escaped. I was on a quest for justice—for myself and my mother—and justice was served long ago.” Goodfellow nodded his understanding.

Through our bond, I could feel Peter’s concern. “But Galahad was supposed to be the best and purest of the Knights of the Round Table. That’s why he could see the Grail. How did he ever become that?”

Arthur sighed. “Galahad was a good man once, but we aren’t living in a fairy tale. His wound and his desire for more life have twisted him. Mortals were never meant to live forever, especially not in this twilight place. The real Galahad died long ago. What we encountered was just a phantom.”

Taliesin stepped forward. “Can you take us home, Yglais?”

“Yes, but stay close. This isn’t a true Path. It’s a place where worlds overlap and it’s very unstable.”

Yglais let go of her daughter’s hand and motioned for us to come into the water. One second I was sinking into the river, and the next I was stepping out of the pool in front of the Bellagio. None of us were wet. Some of the Protectors looked over in surprise, but they were still blocking us from the view of the dwindling crowd on the street.

Goodfellow bowed low before the tiny wood sprite. “I’m sorry I never found you and brought you back, Yglais.”

Lips trembling, she smiled in response. “We’re free now, and soon enough, what is past will fade.”

I realized her daughter was missing. “Where’s Dindrane?”

Yglais looked at me with round eyes like an owl’s. “Out here, where the nature of a Greylander is enhanced, she is always the Questing Beast. In Avalon, she can be Dindrane.” Without saying goodbye, the wood sprite stepped back into the water and disappeared.

Arthur put the Grail down on the edge of the pool with a dull clang of metal on concrete. When he looked at me, his face was full of resentment. “It doesn’t want me. I can feel it. Why?”

I had no idea. What I did know was that the pressure to use the Grail’s power was building again. I looked around desperately as the flames flickered in my hands. “I think I need help, guys!”

Daley took my hands in his. “Try to stay calm,” he murmured, but being so close to Avalon must have dampened his power before because now it was like gas on a fire, urging it to greater heights. As I pulled away, flames engulfed my body, consuming much of my clothing, nudging at the barrier of my skin. I gasped at the heat of the metal as the gun which had been in my pocket slid down the back of my leg. It warped and began to puddle on the ground. It was the last thing I saw before my mind filled with the fire streaming into me from the Grail through the cut in my hand.

“I have you, mo ghaoil.”

Thomas Redcap.

I could see him in the silhouette of his power. Acting on instinct and hoping he would understand, I leaned into him and exposed my neck. “Help me!”

There was a sharp pain, quickly gone, and then the power coursing through me was running on a loop between us, giving me a chance to regain some control. Pulling away, I touched the small wound on my neck. Redcap had ingested some of my flesh, my blood. A very small part of me was in him now, but the Grail’s power was following it. When Redcap walked away unsteadily, I knew he wouldn’t be able to hold it long either.

He returned holding a coat for me to put over the remnants of my ruined clothing. I slipped my arms into it and buttoned it up to my chin. It was a woman’s coat—expensive looking, probably designer. Over his shoulder, I could see Cleo standing coatless and shivering between Bedivere and Arthur’s ginger-haired attendant.

Pushing past Redcap, I walked over and punched his ex-wife in the mouth.

Cleo cried out and stumbled, but Bedivere held her up as if waiting for me to take another shot. I might have too, if Redcap hadn’t caught my arm. “Why do you do it?” I demanded. “Why do you help that monster?”

“He’s my father,” she whispered, eyes entreating me to understand.

“Well I doubt you’ll be seeing him for a while.” But I didn’t really believe that the Fisher King’s fallen castle would hold Merlin for long.

I didn’t resist when Redcap put his hands on my shoulders, turning me to look at him. “I’ll deal with her later. I’m helping you hold this hellish power, whatever it is, but I can’t contain it forever. Not without . . .” He grimaced. “Not without taking more from you,” he said at last.

Taking a deep breath, I nodded that I understood. “The power belongs to the Grail. I need to put it back.” Wincing with every step of my bare feet on cold concrete—the Grail’s fire had even stolen my boots—I approached the earth talisman cautiously.

Despite my display of near nudity and totally inappropriate fisticuffs, Peter was grinning at me. “I never knew you had such a mean right hook! I’ll never argue with you over the remote again!”

I couldn’t help laughing. The place in my heart where joy lived belonged to my best friend. “I need your help. Both you and Redcap have to keep me grounded.”

Arthur backed away from the Grail and I lifted it up. I nodded at Redcap. Understanding, he placed his hands underneath mine and the contact intensified my sense of the power swirling back and forth between us. As I looked into his red-streaked eyes, I was tempted to destroy the earth talisman and let the fire fill us until we melted together into one being, consumed by power. I surprised him by leaning over and kissing him hard, biting into his lip until it bled. The taste of his blood was exhilarating. The Grail’s power was ours. Together, we would become a new sun and burn the world away.

Peter put his hand on my shoulder and I was flooded with bright, peridot green. His bond strengthened my tie to the earth, drawing me back from death. When I pulled away from Redcap, the man looked more shaken than when he arrived at Taliesin’s fleeing a monster.

Because he’s never seen a real monster until now.

Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to concentrate on the Grail. It was dangerously unbalanced. Its power of death and destruction was ascendant because its power for life had been drained by the Fisher King. If Merlin was telling the truth, the only way to refill it with life and restore the balance was with Arthur’s blood.

I knew I had to get it out of us soon, but the amount of power needed to command a talisman of the earth magic was incredible. Excalibur could have helped me, but it was miles away.

I dared a glance at Redcap. A drop of blood had welled up on his lip, calling to me with the dangerous seduction I’d almost burned the world for. Closing my eyes against the siren call of blood magic, I instead descended into the lake of color in the depths of my soul. Dancing and glittering like a captive rainbow, it held every scrap of magic I’d stolen through the years like a magpie feathering its nest. But what can come in, must surely be able to go out the same way. Gathering almost all the colors in my being and weaving them into a spell made from every kind and type of magic, I issued one undeniable command.

Go back to where you belong!

A concussive force shook me, forcing me to exhale till my lungs were dry and I thought I would never breathe again. After an eternity of seconds, I was released and could gulp in precious oxygen. There was one blinding moment of pure pain, and then all my stored power left me along with the Grail’s. The fire resisted, probing at the wound on my neck and the cut on my hand, but they were both shallow and had already stopped bleeding and were closing up. Soon I was empty of everything except my bond with Peter and my connection to the spell that kept Tynan alive. I’d carefully shielded both.

When I opened my eyes, a ring of flame circled the inside of the Grail, gilding the tops of the pearls around the rim, guarding the last drops of silver water at the bottom.

Redcap let go of my hands and backed away as if he couldn’t bear to touch me any longer. The cold seeped between us, erasing anything else.

“Well that was quite a display, Redcap,” Tynan drawled. “But I suppose it’s in any monster’s nature to take advantage of a situation.”

Redcap lifted his chin proudly, his eyes glinting red and gold with the lights of the Las Vegas strip. “The powers of my people come in handy sometimes. The Great Ones only remember that when it suits them.” My heart broke as I realized he was taking the blame for our unseemly behavior, even though I was the one with no self-respect in the face of blood magic. But to my everlasting shame, I didn’t defend him.

“At least you didn’t have to look like you were enjoying it so much,” Daley muttered.

“Listen, boy . . .”

“Enough!”

Even the power of Taliesin’s voice couldn’t make Redcap kneel. Walking over to Bedivere, he wrenched Cleo from his grasp. “This is my ex-wife. I’ll find out what she knows, but she stays with me here, in the Bellagio.” His glare dared anyone to disagree. As he led her away, he didn’t look back. We watched them in silence until they’d almost reached the entrance to the hotel, and then Arthur nodded at Bedivere. The man turned and slipped into the shadows.

I looked at Arthur in surprise. “Where’s he going?”

“I don’t trust the Egyptian and especially not the redcap. Though the rest of his kind may have been eliminated, there are those of us who still remember that blood-thirsty race. We’ll all sleep safer in our beds when the last one is finally gone.”

“But he helped us! He helped me!”

Arthur’s smile was indulgent, fatherly. “And you’re to be commended for your innocent trust, but you can’t see him as I do. As we all now just did.” I was too tired to protest again, so I just nodded, sick at my own betrayal of the man who’d saved me more than once.

The redcap who loves me.

Arthur gestured for the others to gather around him. “Thanks to Rhiannon, the Grail’s fire has been safely contained. We’ll return to Taliesin’s home and partake of whatever rest or sustenance we can till an hour after dawn. Rhi, and whomever she chooses to accompany her, will come with me to New York where we will use the Grail to save Morgan le Fay. Once she is again at full strength, we will use the earth talismans to cut down Merlin once and for all. Together.” When Arthur smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkled and I felt my heart leap with the desire to follow him. Command was as natural and effortless to Arthur as breathing.

One look at Taliesin’s worried face brought me back down to earth. Morgan had tried to kill herself out of remorse over what she did to her own son—and perhaps out of a desire to escape the bonds holding her to Arthur. She loved the king, but she loved the bard too. And from what little I knew of my aunt, I suspected she loved her freedom even more. She might not welcome being brought back to a life of loving bondage.

Arthur directed the ginger-haired woman to carry the Grail and I didn’t protest. The Grail was mine no matter where it was, but I was relieved to be separated from it. I was so empty now, and I could feel it in the back of my mind, beating at me to let it in.

The back of my mind.

I was surprised to realize I wasn’t in any pain. An absence of magic had brought relief. Maybe it could reverse what had been happening to me. Even a month ago, I wouldn’t have accepted the loss of magic as the price for my health. I’d come to Las Vegas naively believing I was willing to die for magic.

But that was before I knew just how much suffering I would have to go through first.

We began to move out. Stepping over a chalk outline, I hoped that Dindrane was telling the truth and that the carnage had only been an illusion. As we followed Goodfellow’s lead towards the Path outside Caesars Palace, Taliesin drew up beside me. “I am afraid that we are set now on a course from which there will be no easy return. You know that Arthur can only see the world in terms of black and white. The woman he loves is dying; his quest then must be to save her.” His voice was barely a whisper; he didn’t want us to be overheard.

“Don’t you want that too?”

“It may not be what Morgana wants.” His words echoed my thoughts. “What Arthur does not account for is the Grail itself.”

“It’s out of balance,” I admitted.

“Yes. Consider Excalibur—the sword can take life, but it also defends it. If Arthur drains the last bit of life-giving magic from the Grail, then it becomes only Death. Who can say what that will do to him? Or to you.”

I watched Arthur as he strode ahead of us, so sure in his course, so convinced of the absolute rightness of his leadership. “What should I do?”

The bard laughed—it was an unfamiliar, unguarded sound. “The Grail is yours. Even I can feel it. I cannot say what you are meant to do with it.” He quickened his pace and walked ahead with no other answer.

Suppressing a flash of irritation, I was a few steps past him before I processed that Daley had stopped walking and was staring at something on the sidewalk. I went back to him, hesitating at the strange look on his face. Tynan looked over his shoulders at us with concern, but I nodded that I would take care of it. He turned away and continued on, leaning down to murmur something to Miko and Titania.

Impatient to get back and put some proper clothes on—and shoes—I put my hand on Daley’s arm to get his attention. “Daley?” When he didn’t respond, I gave him a little shake. “We need to go now. What are you doing?”

“They forget,” he murmured. “Even Dad.” I was surprised to hear him call Taliesin Dad in public. “But then, he wasn’t here. No one was. We died alone.”

If the Grail had left any heat in me, it was swept away now with white horror at his use of the word we. I guessed where we were. Following his gaze, I almost expected to see the stain of blood on the sidewalk beneath our feet.

I tried to make my voice as gentle as possible. “You didn’t die here. Melusine did. You did everything you could. The ghost-dragon wasn’t really her. There was nothing anyone could have done to save her, not then, and not now.”

He didn’t seem to hear me as he stared at the spot where Melusine was shot by her ex-lover. “This is where I held her while her life spilled out on the ground. This is where she choked on her own blood and her eyes begged me to save her. This is where I lost everything.”

Shaking my hand off, Daley stumbled away.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

POPPY

The Path to New York City was a sleeper train straight out of the Orient Express. Longer distances required Paths to be shaped to look more like conveyances the mind was used to. Goodfellow said it was to avoid becoming what he termed brain-lost, though why he thought something from an Agatha Christie novel would be more familiar to us, I had no idea. Having seen the grey, unnatural oppression that was a Path’s true nature, I understood the need for an illusion though. At least the train was comfy. I’d finally learned that the ginger-haired woman’s name was Isabelle. As we were waiting to enter the Path, she’d informed me that they’d come to Las Vegas on creatures that looked almost like horses because Arthur still wasn’t completely at ease travelling on anything that didn’t move on four legs.

Isabelle had also filled me in that Paths where the entrances and exits were actually fairly close geographically—like the one leading from Taliesin’s compound to the Las Vegas strip—were experienced so quickly that the mind didn’t have a chance to register anything. The trip from the Bellagio to the domain of the Fisher King had also passed in moments, proof perhaps that our world and Merlin’s existed parallel to one another, almost touching. It was a troubling thought.

Though Goodfellow’s penchant for steampunk airships and elaborate antique trains was endearing, his defection from our quest was less so. Under the baleful gaze of Titania, he’d declined to come, instead offering a local Path Guide to transport us. When I wondered out loud why we’d bothered waiting for Goodfellow before when there were other Guides in Vegas, the fairy queen grudgingly admitted that many Paths were beyond ordinary Guides, but none were beyond Puck.

Taliesin and Goodfellow had escorted us to the mouth of the Path on the property of the compound. Once we followed our Guide onto the Path, Las Vegas disappeared and we were standing in in the corridor of the train with compartments on either side. The Guide had indicated that we could take our pick and the group had split up. Resting on a narrow, built-in bed with a feather pillow under my head, I was grateful for the privacy. Even though it would only take a little more than an hour to reach New York, it had given me time to think. I’d emptied myself of the magic I’d collected. I was like an addict who was finally clean. I had to stay clean. I had to stop stealing magic.

The decision was made. I would help save Morgan, and then somehow find a way to transfer ownership of Excalibur and the Grail to Arthur. I felt a flash of what might be protest from the sword, but forced myself to ignore it. As far as I was concerned, Arthur and Taliesin could fight Merlin, and after that, fight one another. I would go home and try to remember what a life ignorant of magic was like; a life I had to admit I’d never really known given that Viviane’s spell had hidden me from full interaction with humanity, but still . . .

Holding on to the illusion of free will, I denied the sure knowledge that Merlin would never let me make that decision. Closing my eyes, I pretended I didn’t feel the determined pull on my mind from Excalibur resting unseen on my hip, or from the Grail in Isabelle’s rough canvas knapsack.

I refuse to become a magic junkie jonesing for my next fix.

A crackling sound echoed through the train. “We are now approaching Track 61. Please be ready to disembark in five minutes,” a voice said over an anachronistic sound system, but I supposed that since it was all an illusion anyway, anachronisms were allowed.

Sitting up with a sigh, I slipped off the bed and left my compartment. As I walked down the corridor towards the dining car, there was no sensation of movement and no scenery except grey fog outside the windows.

The others were already waiting inside. Daley sat in a booth by himself staring out the window at the blank nothingness. Isabelle and Titania were playing a game with what looked like Tarot cards. Miko was watching the other fairy with an avid look on her face. To my eyes, she seemed to be sitting just a bit too close, but if she was annoying Titania, the woman didn’t show it.

Arthur and Tynan were sitting together conversing quietly and I was struck by how similar they looked; there was no doubting they were father and son. I should have been happy for Tynan that they were reconciling, but I couldn’t forget Taliesin’s stricken expression, quickly hid, when both Ty and Miko told him they were going to stay with Arthur. The Tynan who’d always called Taliesin Dad was gone. I’d known that for a while, but I could feel that Taliesin hadn’t.

I slid into the seat across from Peter. “Is there any actual food in this place?”

“I wish. I’m starving.”

“I thought you grabbed something before we left.”

When he shrugged, I could see the heavy muscles moving under his shirt. “I’m still hungry. Did you know I’ve grown an inch since we got to Vegas?”

“In one month? I know guys sometimes get their growth spurt late, but I would have thought you were tall enough already.”

He grinned. “I’ll be taller than Ty soon if I keep it up.”

I forced myself to smile. Peter kept changing. What would he be like once he finally stopped? I jerked my chin towards the three women sitting at the other table. “What do you think about Miko staying with Arthur?” I instantly regretted the question when I saw the flash of hurt cross his face.

“I don’t know. She seems happier. Taliesin hasn’t been able to help her figure things out, so maybe Arthur and his people can. Miko told me that since her mother abandoned her, she’s never really been around fairies much. Shakespeare said Titania was the Queen of the Fairies. If anyone can understand what’s going on with Miko, it’s probably her.”

“Probably. But what about you? Are you just going to let her go?”

He stared at the tabletop, running his thumbnail up and down the groove between his bottom teeth; a sure sign that he was thinking deeply. Then he sighed and put his hands flat on the table. They clenched once, almost spasmodically, and I felt a quick surge of anger almost as quickly suppressed. “I want to talk things through with her, but she keeps avoiding me. I need to know . . .” His fair skin flushed.

“What?”

“I need to know if she wants me to stay with her. I need to know if she wants me to join Arthur too.”

I don’t know what I might have said to Peter if the Path Guide hadn’t appeared in the doorway just then. I reflexively pulled on the bond between us, resentfully drawing him closer. When his eyes widened slightly, I knew he could feel what I was doing.

Could I make him stay with me? Even if he doesn’t want to? Is the magic binding a Protector to his Charge that powerful? Maybe it’s the real reason we’re best friends. Maybe Viviane did this to us.

Peter had already turned his attention to the Guide who was about as unforgettable a young man as possible until he spoke. As he gestured to the exit doors, he declared in the thickest southern accent I’d ever heard outside of a fried chicken commercial, “We’re arrivin’ on Track 61. If y’all just take the doors to the right, we’ll be stoppin’ at the Waldorf Astoria station, in the great city of New York.”

The tension in Peter suddenly dissolved and he tugged me out of the booth. “C’mon, this is going to be cool.” As he pulled me over to the exit, the others gathered behind us. Since there was no sensation of movement, there was no sensation of stopping either. The Guide gestured towards the doors and Peter slid them open with his hands. I was grateful to see darkness instead of grey mist beyond, but I still couldn’t see where we were supposed to go.

“Well I’ll be hanged!” The Guide pushed past us and jumped into the darkness. There was a sound of boots landing on concrete then the flicker of light from a cell phone “They were s’posed to have the lights on. Just hold your tail feathers while I call up top.” I caught muttered exclamations of “John Brown’it” and “that dawg just won’t hunt!”

“All right,” he called back to us finally. “Just give it about ten seconds.” In less than that, the lights came on. It wasn’t bright, exactly, but we could see.

“It’s really Track 61! I can’t believe it!” Peter’s excitement seemed out of proportion to the crumbling rails and platforms around us.

Miko’s jump onto the platform was so light, it seemed that she was flying even without extending her wings. “What’s Track 61?”

Peter’s answering smile was out of proportion to the mild interest on the girl’s face and my heart broke for him. I made sure he couldn’t feel it through our bond though; I wouldn’t ruin this for him.

Conscious he had an audience, my best friend cleared his throat and projected. “Track 61 is actually a decommissioned station of the New York subway system. This track was specially built in the Thirties to bring President Roosevelt in and out of New York secretly so people couldn’t see he was in a wheelchair, but there are rumors that it’s still kept open for visiting presidents to get out of town fast if there’s ever a disaster.”

The Guide grinned. “Wives’ tales! This place is kept open ‘cuz it’s a Path entrance, though Roosevelt wasn’t a half bad wizard in his own right. That’s the man’s own personal subway car right over there.” He pointed at a rusting hulk covered in peeling blue and green paint sitting just off the track. Peter was in geek heaven.

Arthur was the last to step off. The moment both his feet were on the ground, the train dissolved into mist. He looked at the Guide with concern. “How will you find your way home, young man?”

The Guide shrugged. “There’re other Paths. Lord Forest ordered this one closed temporarily to prevent anyone from following you.” Whistling, he began to walk away alongside the track. Before he disappeared into the darkness, he called back, "If you find your way onto Track 61 again, my lord, the concierge know where to find me! I’ll cool my heels in town a while!”

Steel doors in the concrete wall swung open and a trim man dressed in a pinstripe suit with a gold crest on each lapel stepped out. “Greetings to you all, I’m the Special Concierge for the Waldorf Astoria and I’m here to assist you with anything you need while you’re in the city. Let me welcome you to New York and escort you to the main level.” He stepped aside for us to enter what looked like an ancient freight elevator and then closed the steel doors behind us. When he pushed a button, the elevator door slid into place and we began to ascend. The man kept glancing at Arthur, awe clear on his face. After a short trip, the door opened to reveal a nondescript hallway. As we followed the concierge down the hall, the man finally got up the nerve to speak. “I must say, my lord, it’s truly an honor to meet you. I would never have believed the day of your awakening would occur during my lifetime. I can’t wait to tell my children that you arrived in New York on my watch.”

Arthur inclined his head slightly, the liege lord acknowledging his rightful tribute. “Have you held your post here for long?”

“I’ve been on the job for about twenty years, my lord. I’m only human, but my family has Protector blood in it and we’re proud to serve. We have the honor of tending to any special guests who are in the city. Will you be staying with us tonight, my lord?”

“I don’t believe so. My aim is to return home with my wife as soon as possible.”

Though the man’s face fell, he didn’t let his disappointment reach his voice. “Well, if there’s anything I can do to make your visit to our city more comfortable, just contact me here. I’d be happy to help with anything you need.”

Tynan’s face was curious. “Do all the hotels in New York cater to supernatural guests?” I wondered how much he remembered from his time living on the streets.

“No, sir, only the best hotels,” the concierge sniffed.

We turned a corner into a wider hallway with chandeliers and richly patterned carpeting which then opened up into the hustle and bustle of the check in area. The ceiling soared above us, but the lighting was warm and rich. As we passed a fantastically decorated, freestanding clock, I noticed it was topped by a gold replica of the Statue of Liberty. Red and gold decorated Christmas trees flanked a sweeping set of stairs and then we were at street level and out the revolving doors. Where the Bellagio had been fanciful in its decor, the Waldorf Astoria was class and old money.

The concierge indicated the line of yellow taxis lined up in front of the hotel along Park Avenue. “Would you like me to arrange transportation for you, my lord?”

Arthur shook his head. “No, thank you. I remember the way and our destination isn’t far. After sitting so long, I’m looking forward to the walk.”

When the man proffered his card, Arthur just stared at him, not understanding. Isabelle took it instead and put it in the pocket of her jeans.

“If there’s anything you need, anything at all, don’t hesitate to call me directly,” the concierge murmured before bowing and retreating back into the hotel.

It was probably a lot quieter due to the holidays, but some morning traffic still travelled along the many lanes of Park Avenue. I was glad I was wearing the jacket I’d left home in because December in New York was quite a different thing from December in Las Vegas, and even though there was no snow on the ground, the air was bitterly cold. As Arthur strode down the street, he seemed oblivious to the weather. I looked longingly back at the taxis which were undoubtedly toasty warm inside.

Shoving my hands in my pockets, my fingers brushed against the pink apple from Avalon and recoiled; frostbite was favorable to the unnatural smoothness of the fruit. Even though it filled me with revulsion, I hadn’t dared to leave it behind. Now that I was free of magic, maybe I could hide from Merlin, but maybe I couldn’t. We were on our way to see the Seer of New York and if anyone could help me find Guinevere, it was her. Even Taliesin had agreed, though he’d warned me that the Seer’s advice was rarely straightforward and often difficult to interpret. Still, it was worth a try. Then I would have to decide what to do with that information, but I couldn’t rule out that I might use it to bargain with Merlin for my life.

Especially now that he’s probably pissed I dropped a castle on him.

After ten frigid minutes of skyscrapers and financial buildings, we turned onto 57th Street where the shopping became even more upscale. Stores like Prada and Dior had windows lavishly decorated for the season, but were shut for the day. After several more cold city blocks, we finally stopped. On the one side of the street was the famous Russian Tea Room with its dancing gold bears on the façade. Across from it was a glass monstrosity reaching for the clouds that looked like a waterfall on crack. Also made of glass, rippled canopies hovered over the sidewalk and two doors, one with metal signage above labelling it the entrance to the Park Hyatt New York.

Arthur opened the unmarked iron and glass doors on the left and we entered into a spare, modern space where an elegant woman stood behind an opening in a marble wall. She looked up with a polite smile. “Welcome to One57, New York’s premier condominium complex. How may I help you?”

“The penthouse please. Say that Arthur is here.”

The woman’s expression didn’t change as she pressed a button on the phone on her desk and spoke quietly into the receiver, but I could sense an increase in tension in the sudden spike of fuchsia in her aura. She gestured towards the leather sectional in the center of the lobby. “Please have a seat. Someone will be down to speak with you in a moment.”

I could tell from the look on Arthur’s face that he wasn’t pleased, but he gave the woman a regal nod. He didn’t sit though, but stood facing the direction of the elevators with his arms folded.

I didn’t mind a chance to sit after walking block after block in a pair of ankle boots I hadn’t had a chance to break in; the grailfire had burned my favorite ones to ash. All except Daley followed suit; he leaned against the wall, staring at the ground. When Tynan gave him a sidelong look, I realized I wasn’t the only one Daley was distancing himself from. He seemed to be drifting away from everybody. Pale aqua ice trimmed the deep, ocean blue and pewter was laced with blue fog; Daley’s colors were edged in sorrow. Resisting their call, I looked away, shivering as I was reminded of that terrible moment standing on the spot where Melusine had died.

I was distracted by the way Isabelle heaved her knapsack onto the smoked glass table and slumped down wearily on the couch. It made me wonder if the Grail was fighting being carried by her. I could certainly feel its power reaching for me. The warmth against my leg told me Excalibur, though currently invisible, was answering that call. Or perhaps it was the other way around. There was a dominance or command I could always feel from the sword’s almost-life.

After half an hour of waiting, Arthur finally lost patience. Stomping over to the receptionist, he growled, “Woman, get Morgause on the phone now.”

“I’m sorry, sir . . .” Whatever excuse she was about to make was interrupted by the sound of an elevator door sliding open and we all turned to see a small man dressed in jeans and a t-shirt emerging from it. He was thin and wiry with snake tattoos running up both forearms, and he appeared extremely amused to see Arthur.

“Dear boy, how are you?”

“Well, Lugh.”

The man made a face. “Please, I haven’t been called that since the Tuatha Dé Danann drove me out of Ireland. Thankfully the Norsemen were much more accommodating.” He bowed from the waist to the rest of us. “Allow me to introduce myself. My second name, and the one I like best, is Loki.”

Loki. I’m living in a comic book.

The man’s eyes were practically sparkling with glee. “By the looks on your faces, I think my fame has preceded me.”

Arthur was not so amused. “Take us to Morgause immediately, Loki.”

The man pretended to sigh sadly. “Unfortunately, my mistress has directed me that she is not to be disturbed. Her right hand man is out of town just now, if you know what I mean, and she prefers his guidance when dealing with unexpected visitors.”

I could feel that strange anger building in Peter again. “But we’re not unexpected and this is Arthur, the Earth King. Get out of the way, trickster.” I didn’t like the ugly tone in his voice.

“Protector . . .” Arthur murmured but Peter ignored him.

“This guy’s being a jerk! He should show some respect!”

Loki smirked. “What’s with the moose?”

“You little . . .” I didn’t know what exactly Peter intended to do to Loki, but when he tried to grab the man, his hand went straight through. Loki’s image wavered for a few seconds and then cleared.

When Arthur patted Peter’s shoulder and smiled, I could feel Peter respond with something close to adoration. I shouldn’t have been surprised; King Arthur of Camelot had always been one of Peter’s literary heroes, but it would make things complicated if Arthur and I ended up on separate sides again.

Arthur gestured towards the still grinning man in front of us. “The real Loki died long before my birth. Some necromancer called up his shade for Morgause while she was still at court in Camelot. She uses him as her private security system now. I’m sure he discourages all but the most determined of visitors.” But when Arthur tried to step through the man and go into the elevator, its doors closed firmly. I glanced back at the receptionist, but she was bent over her desk, determinably not seeing the scene right in front of her.

Arthur frowned. “I have no time for your tricks, Loki. I’ve brought something which will save Morgan. I need to see her right away.”

“I’m sorry, my king, but you’re right—I’m the security here and my lady has instructed me to secure her privacy for the moment. She will see you when her associate Bel and the Messenger return from their business trip. She did say to tell you that Morgan le Fay’s fever has stabilized and she’s no longer in imminent danger of expiring. The Seer has reserved rooms for you in the Park Hyatt. The hotel occupies the lower floors but the entrance is just next door. The Seer asks that you remain there until she sends for you. I’ll be in touch.” The shade waggled his fingers at us and disappeared.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

ROUGE

I had to admire Arthur’s restraint. If I wanted to wring Loki’s skinny little neck, I could barely imagine what he wanted to do. Bowing his head and concentrating for a moment, he looked up with a relieved sigh. “Loki’s correct. Morgan’s condition is still dire, but I can sense that we have some time to acquiesce to Morgause’s wishes. The woman was always flighty and paranoid, and I don’t wish to risk upsetting her while Morgan is in her charge.” His gaze darkened. “But one day only, and only if I don’t sense any change in Morgan. Longer than that and I’ll tear this glass monstrosity down with my bare hands if I have to. Still, it appears that Taliesin’s misgivings about the Seer of New York were mostly unfounded. Morgause has taken care of her sister and brought her fever down.”

Miko’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of poison causes fever anyway?”

Titania frowned. “The girl is right, my lord. You didn’t say that Morgan le Fay’s condition was due to fever. I know you’re still unfamiliar with the modern world, but this sounds more like some sort of illness.”

Arthur nodded impatiently. “Yes, Morgan has explained to me the many advances the physicians of this age have made, but she didn’t appear to be ill except for the unnatural heat of her body. And there was a note . . .” The sudden anguish on his face was just as quickly smoothed away. “Perhaps I misinterpreted both it and her condition. We will see to these rooms which Morgause has arranged and then wait for Loki to contact us. For a time.”

A flare of bright anger from Peter crossed our bond. “You’ve got to be kidding me! That’s it? Why don’t we just, you know, storm the castle, so to speak?”

“Not unless I’m forced to it. The Seer is more powerful than you know, young man.”

Peter snorted. “What’s she going to do? Break all our fortune cookies? Throw crystal balls at us?”

“Peter . . .” I cautioned.

Arthur motioned for us to follow him out of the building, and only after he’d looked up and down the street to make sure we were unobserved did the king seem prepared to speak more freely. “There are some things about this new world that Morgan has made very clear to me, and one of them was her sister. Morgan warned me not to cross her at all costs. The Seer of New York has many powerful friends, both in the world of magic and in the mundane one. They come to her with their secret desires and they leave with answers, but the Seer keeps those secrets. This great city is built on the backs of the men and women Morgause has lifted up and could just as easily bring down. She could raise an army with a simple call on one of your phones. It may come to that, but we can bide our time for a little while as long as I feel that Morgan is stable. I should have trusted in Taliesin and brought Morgan to him instead of here, but . . .” He left the rest unsaid.

Maybe he’s not so OK with Morgan and her relationship with Taliesin.

In the weak light, strands of grey at his temples gleamed dully. There were more than when I first met him after he was awakened. More wrinkles in the corners of his eyes now too.

I guess a few hundred years of beauty sleep has to be good for something.

It was a reminder that while Arthur might live much longer than other men, he was still mortal. Just like Taliesin, he would live only as long as the earth magic had a use for him. I’d been looking at the king as an almost invincible figure, but since Excalibur in its scabbard strapped around my waist was evidence of his complicated relationship with the earth magic, I suddenly felt much less secure in his company.

When we entered the hotel, the concierge appeared to be waiting for us and directed us away from the polished black front desk. Presenting us with a handful of key cards, he escorted us personally to our rooms on the 25th floor. Apparently the Park Hyatt was also one of the finer establishments which catered to supernatural clients. The girls were settled in one suite and the boys in another down the hall. Arthur was given his own on the same floor.

The suite was coolly modern in tones of grey and taupe. A multi-level coffee table decorated with several black sculptures sat in front of a curved couch upholstered in grey wool. The floors, walls and draperies, as well as several chairs and low benches, were all variations of the same pale taupe. A dining room table sat in front of the bank of windows which looked out at the skyscrapers of New York. The only contrast in the room came from the silver vase of branches dotted with yellow flowers and the large painting hanging above the second couch on the other side of the coffee table.

The painting seemed strangely out of place. Everything else was comfortable, but minimalist, while this was bright and lush. It depicted a field of red flowers filling the canvas from edge to edge. The paint and brush stokes were so thick and wild that I wasn’t quite sure what the flowers were, but I thought they were poppies.

Miko immediately began raiding the minibar—which was more like an armoire filled with gourmet treats— and placing them on the actual bar provided in the suite, proffering some items to Titania like gifts. She put out a graceful, long-fingered hand and accepted a bottle of sparkling water. Despite the rebellious red mohawk, the fairy naturally accepted the homage of a subject; she was the fairy queen, after all, at least, that was what William Shakespeare had called her. I was curious to learn more about her and Oberon and what happened with Goodfellow, but Miko took every spare minute of her attention.

Isabelle dropped the bag with the Grail carefully on the desk in front of the window and collapsed into the chair with a sigh. As a welcome gift, the hotel had left a blueberry tart under a glass dome and a bowl filled with pears. When the ginger-haired woman picked up one and bit into it, I secretly hoped she didn’t have a sweet tooth because the tart looked enticing. As she closed her eyes wearily while she chewed, I would have placed bets that the Grail had been fighting her. The Grail wasn’t like Excalibur—meaning that the sword somehow picked and chose who it let carry it—but it still seemed to have a will of its own.

Without purse or bag, unsure of what to do, I asked, “Did anyone else think to bring a change of clothes with them or even a toothbrush? I thought this was just going to be a day trip.”

Isabelle opened her eyes but only to pick up the newspaper on the desk and begin reading. By the look of the jeans and shirt she was wearing, they’d already seen a day or two of wear.

Miko, however, was more concerned. “Is anything open so we can pick up a few things?”

I shrugged. “It’s Christmas day.”

Titania pulled a cell phone out of one of the orange straps on her Bondage R Us outfit. “I’ll take care of it.” She made a quick call and less than an hour later, a woman appeared at the door pulling two large suitcases behind her.

“Darling,” she murmured as she air-kissed Titania.

“Isolde,” the fairy murmured back.

The woman was stunning with honey-colored hair that had been chemically treated with subtle highlights, a narrow waist, and long legs clad in skin-tight, strategically ripped jeans. Miko was staring at her with her mouth open. Isabelle looked up from her chair by the window with a disinterested smile and then went back to reading the news. As Titania and Isolde huddled together like old friends, Miko was forced to my side.

“Is that who I think it is?” I asked under my breath, even though I already knew the answer; my consumption of pop culture had been one of my few joys through my high school years.

Miko picked up a magazine sitting on the desk and showed it to me. Isolde stared back at us from the cover in a swimsuit with a neckline cut so low that it was really a hipline.

Titania was now helping her friend dump clothing, toiletries, and accessories out of the suitcases and onto the dining room table. Isolde waved us over with a flourish of long, skinny arms. “I was on my way to a party so I can’t stay, but this should tide you over. Some of the designers have been getting stingy lately with some of the girls, but they always save the best stuff for me. It’s all sample sizes, but most of you should be OK.” The most of you was directed at Isabelle in her stained jeans, but the ginger-haired woman didn’t even look up. “You’re lucky. Just last week I convinced Oliver to give me some pieces from the new makeup line he’s developing, so I had lots of it. It’s not in production yet, so don’t show them to anyone. Call me if you’re going to be in town for more than a couple of days, ‘Tania. We’ll do lunch.” More air kisses and murmured darlings between them and then one of the most famous models in the world breezed out. It had all taken less than five minutes.

Miko rushed over to the table like a kid in a candy store. Even Titania was pawing through the jewelry. I picked up a pair of oversized sunglasses. “She gets all this stuff for free?”

When Miko grinned, I saw again the vibrant young woman she used to be. “One of the perks. I told you about fairies and models, though I never realized Isolde was one.”

Titania was putting a gold hoop earring though the hole in one ear; it was at least three inches in diameter. “That’s because she’s only part fairy, like you. Only she lucked out and got the wings.”

The light in Miko’s eyes dimmed and she wandered back to the couch. “Maybe I’ll just take a scarf and some makeup. Everything else will be miles too long on me anyway.”

While I had a normal girl’s desire to wear nice things, the way Titania was looping jewelry around her neck and wrists reminded me of a bird attracted to something shiny. A little disturbed, I gathered a few items and took them to the bedroom. As I turned to close the door, the poppy painting on the far wall of the living room caught my eye again. Seen from a distance against the backdrop of the elegant, minimal décor, it looked even more wrong. Suddenly tired, I closed the door and lay down on the bed without even putting away the beautiful things I’d taken from Isolde’s stash.

There was a sound of knocking and I jolted awake. Miko was standing in the open doorway. “Hey, sleepyhead, we’re going to get some dinner with the boys. Do you want to come?”

I sat up groggily. Rubbing my eyes to get the fuzziness out of them, I followed her back into the living room. “I can’t believe I slept? What time is it?”

“It’s almost ten. We all konked out for hours. Isabelle didn’t even make it to a bed. I normally don’t find travelling a Path so tiring. I’m starved now and I know you are too.” One of Miko’s gifts was an ability to perceive what people really wanted. “Tynan called and said for us to meet them downstairs in ten minutes. Can you be ready in time?”

“Sure. I’ll just go get changed.”

Sauntering back to Titania at the bar, Miko tossed the tail of an orange scarf over her shoulder. I remembered seeing the color poking out from under the darker pile of clothes on the table. The silk looked like fire against the black of her hair and the white of her skin.

When I went back to the room and picked up the silver tunic and grey leggings I’d thrown to the end of the bed when I fell asleep, I was surprised to notice a fine layer of dust on them.

Isolde must have more clothes than I could ever imagine if she lets designer duds lie around long enough to get dusty.

I’d also picked out a fancy vibrating toothbrush and some makeup items and deodorant, and I took them into the ensuite bathroom to change. I hadn’t taken any jewelry—I’d chosen the outfit to match the silver bracelet Daley had given me. As I smoothed the tunic over my hips and fluffed some curls into my hair, I thought about leaving Excalibur behind, but I’d grown used to its weight on my hip. Though it had once seemed too long and heavy to carry around easily, it now fit me in a way I couldn’t explain. With its spell of invisibility, the only sign of it was some creasing on the side of the tunic. When I threw on my jacket, even that was masked.

As we travelled down to the lobby in the elevator, my head was still a little sleep-muddled. When I caught Isabelle re-adjusting the knapsack on her shoulder and rubbing her neck, she gave me a rueful smile. “I fell asleep reading and I can’t get the kinks out.” I was glad she hadn’t left the Grail alone and unguarded in the hotel suite, but it bothered me that she seemed to have taken ownership over it.

The Grail is mine.

Titania had changed into a black halter top and wide-legged pants in flowing silk topped with a cropped jacket that looked like it was fabricated from silver feathers. The halter was cut deep and a silver chain draped even deeper, ending in a slim pendant that reached her waist. She’d painted her eyes silver to match and had sleeked down her mohawk into controlled red waves framing her face—the bright bird was gone and a queen was among us.

The men stood as she approached, all but Daley’s eyes widening appreciatively. I felt plain and unnoticed, but when Peter smiled shyly at Miko, I didn’t care anymore—I was just happy to see her smile back, even though the faint blush in her cheeks only pointed out how unnaturally pale they’d become.

At the same moment I noticed, Peter seemed to as well and the smile slipped off his face. I felt Miko stiffen. Her expression became cold and she sidled closer to Titania.

As the others passed us, Isabelle surprised me by commenting, “The boy needs to learn to not telegraph his every thought on his face.”

She was right, but it bothered me to hear her say it. “That’s just who Peter is. He’s honest and open. He doesn’t need to change.” When the ginger-haired woman murmured an apology and put some distance between us, I felt a little ashamed.

But it’s none of her business.

As we passed the front desk and went outside, I was surprised to see snow on the ground and slush on the edges of the street. “When did it snow?”

Tynan was looking up and down, frowning. “It must have come down hard during the day while we were napping.”

I hung back with him as we crossed the street. “You guys all slept too?”

“Deep. My father thinks our Guide was inexperienced. Even with the illusion of the train bringing us here, we may have all been on the edge of becoming brain-lost. You should have heard him yelling at Goodfellow. He’s never used a cell phone before, but he soon got the hang of it, I can tell you that.”

Daley knocked my arm as he brushed past, but the electricity that always seemed to be between us was dampened. Everyone looked tired and out of sorts, even Arthur. Isabelle was holding the card from the concierge at the Waldorf and speaking into her phone. She listened for a moment and then nodded, pointing for us to cross the road to the Russian Tea Room. “He got us in,” she said as she disconnected the call.

We dashed through traffic to the red canopy above the brass-edged doors, and entered an older, more opulent world. People were standing waiting for a table, but Isabelle pushed past them to the hostess. Ignoring the angry looks from those still waiting, we followed and the hostess ushered us over to two half-moon shaped booths with red leather banquettes. Arthur and the two older women immediately took the one furthest in and the rest of us took the second, all except Miko who hesitated between them, clearly not wanting to leave Titania. The fairy smiled indulgently and patted the space beside her. Miko happily climbed in, sitting too close from what I could see, but Titania seemed intent on treating her like some sort of pet. When I noted that Peter was also watching, I checked on his emotional state through our bond, but the connection between us was muted and blurry.

Our dinner proceeded as a quiet, sedate affair, while all the other patrons in the packed restaurant seemed to be in a lively, celebratory mood. The place was packed and I realized that the Waldorf Astoria’s concierge must have pulled some major strings to get us two tables. It was a bit embarrassing to be treated like royalty, but after the food began arriving, I was glad that at least one of us actually was royalty. We’d arrived just barely in time for the post-theater menu and the Blinchik—a crepe filled with mushrooms, goat cheese, and lingonberries—followed by Boeuf à la Stroganoff soon picked me up. By the time I was finishing it all off with chocolate mousse, I almost felt like celebrating too.

I was so intent on the chocolate goodness in front of me that I hadn’t even noticed that Peter was talking on the phone with someone until a complicated mixture of wariness and sadness seeped through our bond. He was sitting on the other side of Tynan, but I was able to catch snippets of the conversation.

“It’s all such a mess, isn’t it?” When he noticed me watching, he lowered his voice and turned partly away.

Who is he talking to?

Peter’s pale eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What? What happened?” A pause. “Are you sure? We’re going to see her. Taliesin thinks she can help us find Rhi’s mother.” His voice was loud enough now to rise over the din and we were all paying attention. When he stood suddenly, staring at something near the entrance, I felt him go into full Protector mode. “They’re already here.” My best friend was gone and a warrior stood in his place.

“Who’s here?” I hissed, but he ignored me.

“You should be here, Lacey.” I went cold as I realized who he was talking to. There was another pause as he glanced at me. “You’ve given us intel. That means something. I’ll talk to her.” Cold turned to heat as I realized he and that witch Lacey McInnis were now talking about me. I could just barely pick out her voice on the speaker of Peter’s phone.

“I don’t belong there.” I had to admit she sounded sad.

“None of us do.” There was a bitterness in Peter’s voice that shocked me. He disconnected the call and looked over my head at Arthur. “We’ve got company.”

As if on cue, one of the waiters yelled, “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time! Ten, nine, eight . . .”

As the entire restaurant began to count down to midnight, shocked realization clicked into place—the dust on the clothes, the strange and heavy sleep—we’d been taken out of Time for almost a week. Morgause must have rigged up the magic in the rooms she’d arranged for us. Then I remembered the strange painting of poppies on the wall and how it was so obviously out of place.

As the waiter screamed, “Happy New Year!” and the crowd exploded into revelry, a tall man with red hair and a young girl with tattered blonde hair spilling out from under a newsboy cap walked silently towards us. As the strains of Auld Lang Syne filled the restaurant, I realized who they were. They’d come to see Cleo at the Bellagio before heading to New Orleans. The girl now sported a red and purple bruise on one cheek and the man held his head stiffly as if it hurt. A peculiar ring covered in twisted symbols glinted on his index finger.

The girl stopped in front of me. “Listen, don’t shoot the messenger—and I mean that literally ‘cuz I’m the Messenger—but Morgause told me to tell you that she wants the Grail.”

“She took us out of Time,” I stated flatly.

“Yeah. She kind of went a little overboard with it, but the guy she hired to set the spell was some newbie she took a fancy to. He thinks he’s some sort of artist.” Daley and Tynan shared a look and I guessed that they’d had a poppy painting in their room too. “We’ve been waiting for the wards on the rooms to alert us that you were up. She only meant to put you out until we got back. Frankly, you’re lucky to be alive.”

“Why did she do it?”

The man rolled his eyes. “Oh for pity’s sake, get on with it.” His British accent only heightened the disdain in his voice.

“Shut up, Bel,” the girl hissed. “The only reason I’m doing this is to try to prevent any of us from getting killed. I’m still the Messenger, at least for now. Do you think I like being stuck between Morgause and Arthur-bloody-Pendragon?”

“What’s a ‘Messenger’ then?” I asked, but it was Arthur who answered as he slipped out of his booth.

“The Messenger is Morgause’s creature. If I recall correctly, the current occupant of the position is named Chloe and she is not our friend. She must obey her mistress’ commands until her term of service is up. Even before I was sleeping, Morgause’s mice were notorious as spies.”

The girl shrugged. “I just pass messages back and forth, and as for my mistress’ commands, I’ve always got a little wiggle room if I look for it.” Grabbing her companion’s hand, she held it up to the light. “And I don’t have to obey this guy at all. Right now, this ring is holding him and giving me some leverage with the Seer, but not much. If I don’t bring the Grail back with me soon, all she has to do is make a couple of calls and some not so friendly dudes will come looking for us.”

“The Grail isn’t going anywhere without me.” I injected every ounce of my firm intention into my voice.

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Then I guess you have to come along. It’s what you were planning to do anyways, isn’t it? I just thought I’d give you the chance to get yourself out of this mess." I shivered as she echoed Peter’s words to Lacey.

Now that the singing was done, the patrons and staff were beginning to notice our altercation. The girl jerked her chin towards the table, making her hair flutter around her shoulders. “Why don’t we dial this down a bit before things get messy?” Tacitly agreeing, Arthur sat and the rest of us followed, but the addition of extra bodies at one table made for a tight fit so Miko and Titania remained standing.  Bel leered at me as he settled in comfortably against my right side, pushing me against Peter. The heat pouring off the man was incredible and I could feel myself beginning to sweat through the delicate silk of my tunic. I gripped Excalibur’s pommel under the table.

I caught Isabelle’s eye as I tried to surreptitiously pull the knapsack containing the Grail under the table towards myself, but Bel surprised me by laughing. “I know exactly where the earth totem is, dear. Fire calls to fire. You might as well put it out in the open.” He leaned forward. “In fact, just so we have everything on the table, so to speak, I highly recommend it.”

Arthur frowned. “Only address my people through me, Belenos,” but he nodded for Isabelle to comply. She cleared a space in the center of the table and put the knapsack down on it.

The man smirked. “I must say, Arthur, I’m gratified you remember me, but it’s Bel, if you don’t mind.”

Arthur snorted. “Why should I mind what a second rate fire demon calls itself? You were all always running around calling yourself god of the sun—Alaunus, Étaín, Sulis, not to mention the ruffians who plagued the rest of the world like Helios and Ra. If I remember you, Bel, it’s only because you were the weakest of the bunch.”

As the heat against my side increased, Chloe looked back and forth between the two men. “Steady on, Bel.” She pointed to her index finger. “I’ve still got you on a short leash. Besides, you’ll roast in here the same as the rest of us if you decide to turn this place into an oven. Even you have your limits.”

Bel ignored her. “Oh Arthur, you always were a self-righteous bastard. And I mean that quite literally given the stories about your mother.” He turned his head and winked at me. “Igraine was her name. She had a most scandalous reputation.”

Arthur’s face never changed expression, but when I opened my senses to his magic, his aura was blazing. Immediately hungering for it, I blocked my awareness of it. With all the practice blocking the pain in my head and my sensitivity to both Tynan and Peter, I was getting pretty good at it. There was only a little resistance then I was able to look at Arthur and only see a handsome man in his early forties.

The Earth King leaned back and crossed his arms. “You know that the Grail belongs to Rhiannon, not me. Why has Morgause drawn me into this?”

Bel shrugged. “You need its waters to save Morgan le Fay.”

I was holding myself as far away from the man as I could, but my skin felt like it was being seared. “And I’ve agreed.”

“And Morgause and I are equally happy to let you proceed, but not without a little quid pro quo first. It’s the reason she was waiting for me to return. The Seer’s powers aren’t attuned to an object like the Grail, but mine are.”

A piece of the puzzle clicked into place. “You want its fire.”

“Precisely. Unfortunately, Arthur, you’re quite right in your judgment of my abilities. All that remains are a few parlor tricks, but when you woke up, you changed everything. The realm of magic is in flux. When it comes to a rest, a new world order will have emerged.”

“With you at the top?”

“With the Seer, of course.”

But I knew he was lying. “So if you’re just Morgause’s lackey, what were you doing with Cleopatra?”

The man stared at me for a moment and I thought I read real surprise on his face before it was hidden beneath a sneer. “Cleopatra is just a means to an end.”

Chloe sighed. “Let’s get this over with. Morgause will be freaking and you know it.”

When Bel grimaced, I caught the sense that returning to the woman wasn’t something he was looking forward to. “Everyone out then, but don’t forget the bill, Arthur. And do tip well.”

As we exited the restaurant, the cold seemed to freeze the air in my lungs, but at least it shut Bel up and cooled my skin where he’d leaned against me. We crossed the street and went back inside One57 where the man at the desk waved Bel and Chloe past and an elevator door opened as we approached. The elevator took us to the top floor and opened onto a private vestibule. The shade of Loki the trickster god was waiting for us. He bowed low and I saw that he’d combed his hair over the top of his head to hide a bald patch. When Chloe turned the knob on the condo door, he disappeared.

The apartment was a Hollywood version of heaven. Everything was white, from the polished marble tiles on the floor, to the walls, to the huge chandelier above us. The chandelier wasn’t lit, but two lit corridors ran out on either side of the foyer, providing a little light to see by. Ahead of us was an open concept living space that was at least a few thousand square feet just on its own—the apartment had to cover the entire top floor. White furniture sat on white rugs which sat on white tile. Anything that wasn’t white was glass. Floor to ceiling windows bounded three sides of the entire space, showing a view of dark skies and the lights of the city below. It was like standing in space looking down at the stars.

There was movement and a figure was silhouetted against the pinpricks of city light. A woman was dancing in front of the windows to some music that only she could hear. Her red hair was the brightest thing in the room as it cascaded down her completely naked body like tongues of flame.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

AMARANTH

“For crying out loud, Morg, put on some clothes. You’ve got guests.” Bel huffed impatiently as he flicked a couple of switches and flooded the room with artificial light. The Seer of New York flinched as if she’d been hit, but she didn’t turn.

“Bel, darling, is that you? You took so long. I’m lonely, and everything hurts so, so much.” The woman seemed almost addled, but when Arthur began to edge down one of the corridors, she hissed over her shoulder, “Loki!” The trickster appeared, blocking the way. Arthur surprised me by hesitating, but the look on his face said he wouldn’t be stopped for long.

When Chloe picked a filmy robe up off the floor and draped it over the woman’s shoulders, I could feel Peter relax. He was raised in a home where R-rated movies were forbidden and even his comic books were inspected to make sure they didn’t cross the line. But then Morgause turned and I could feel his anxiety go through the roof. The thin fabric of the robe did almost nothing to hide her full breasts, tiny waist, and curving hips. She had creamy, almost luminous skin and the over-full lips and vacuous expression of a porn star. The only thing that marked her as sister to Morgan and Viviane were her pale, pale eyes.

She held out her hand to me. “Come, daughter of my brother, the horned god Merlin, and of fair Guinevere.”

Chloe motioned for me to obey. As I approached, I put out my hand to take hers, but the Seer pulled back in alarm. “No, no,” she whispered, “can’t do that. It hurts too much. That’s why I live up here in the sky where all their grubby little fingers and grubby little brains can’t touch me.” She cocked her head at me. “Your brain is loud, but not as loud as it once was. It’s now empty, empty, empty.” Morgause laughed.

Morgause is crazy.

“Empty now, but not for long, Child of Blood.” She frowned. “Why do you recoil from your rightful title? Blood is life. Blood is magic. And spilling it is a natural consequence of mortality.” Her eyes narrowed and her expression became sly. “I could tell you what it all means, but I know you came to me with another question and I will only answer one.”

“I want to see Morgan,” Arthur interrupted.

The Seer waved her fingers at him. “Yes, but does she want to see you, Arthur?”

The king strode towards her, backing her up almost to the window as she attempted to avoid him touching her. Bel threw himself down on the couch looking bored, as if he’d seen this scene or one like it played out many times before. Even Chloe was busy picking at the split ends in her hair.

Arthur’s face was filled with righteous anger. “You said she took poison, but her fever says otherwise. I may be ignorant of some of the learning of this new world, but I’m learning fast. You put a sleeping spell on us and kept me away from her! She could have died in that time!”

Tears brimmed in the woman’s eyes and her face crumpled. “But I can’t do anything without Bel. I need him. I had to do something to stop you from coming here until he returned. It couldn’t be helped. How could I know that it would make you sleep so long? It’s not my fault, is it, Bel?”

“No, dear,” he mumbled, running his hands over the lid of a large, wooden box sitting on the glass coffee table. Its entire surface was covered with scrolling designs in gold leaf. It looked old and expensive. Something teased at me from the box, a hint of pale magic almost indefinable in color, but I forced myself to ignore it. The designs were obviously meant to hide the true nature of what was within, but I was already sick of magical objects. I didn’t need whatever it was that was hidden inside.

“See!” Morgause declared, completely unaware of the man’s complete indifference towards her. Scratching at her arms where the robe brushed against them, she seemed barely able to stand its touch. Red welts rose on her skin. Similar marks stood out on her thighs as the silk swished around them.

Rolling her eyes and sighing like any ordinary pre-teen, the Messenger stood. “They already know you want the Grail. Why don’t you just give them your terms and get it over with already?”

Morgause made a plump pout with her lips. “I’m not listening to you. I can’t trust you since you hobbled my lover with that silly ring. I think I’m going to send you to England. I have messages for the mundane queen that just can’t wait.”

The expression on the girl’s face became hard and adult. “You promised me that the last two messages I contain are the ones that would fulfill my service. Only I can deliver them. You made sure of that. Let me do it and set me free or I’ll take them with me and keep them secret till the day I die.” Turning on her heels, she marched towards the door.

Chloe had her hand on the knob and was beginning to turn it when Morgause screamed, “Stop!” Then the Seer clapped her hands over her ears as if the sound of her own voice hurt. “Fine,” she whispered. Apparently satisfied, Chloe slouched back to the couch.

“What mischief is this, Seer?” Arthur growled. Isabelle had dropped the knapsack holding the Grail to pull out a formidable looking gun. Peter’s hand hovered over where I knew his weapon was harnessed under his jacket and the two fairies had unfurled their wings, transparent red and black mingling together. Daley stood by the door with the silver charm in his hand, but he hadn’t called up the Wheel of Taranis yet. I wondered how safe it would be to use it in an apartment made of glass far above the ground, but lightning flashed outside, waiting to be commanded.

Only Tynan was missing. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him slip down the corridor and the shade of Loki didn’t stop him. Giving me a wink, it disappeared.

Factions and shifting allegiances, but who here is really on my side?

Arthur approached the Seer. “Give me Morgan and we’ll leave you in peace.”

“Give me the Grail. It’s my price for her life.”

“You know I can’t do that. I need the Grail to heal her.”

Bel’s sudden laugh was harsh and discordant. “No, Earth King, neither of you will need it because you’ll both be dead. The Grail is mine! Airbe druad!” Opening the decorative box on the table, he reached in and scattered something on the ground.

Bones covered with strange marks.

There was silence as we all stared down at them. Free of the box, I could feel the power in the silver, rust, and charcoal of the markings, but it was somehow incomplete or restrained. Still, there was enough magic in them that, given time, I was pretty sure I could extract it. Disturbingly, my guess concerning the value of flesh and bones as well as blood appeared to be correct. Whatever Bel expected them to do, however, didn’t materialize.

“Drat,” he muttered.

Chloe looked up from the magazine she was flipping through and rolled her eyes. “I told you so.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CARMINE

Bel shrugged. “It was worth a try.”

Chloe snorted. “A spell requiring the bones of three witches won’t work if one of the bones is missing, and you’re no witch anyway.”

“Then it’s a good thing it wasn’t the only egg in my basket, isn’t it?” he drawled. “I was hoping the spell would succeed and I wouldn’t have to extract our little mole, but best laid plans and all . . .”

He was interrupted by Tynan arriving with Morgan in his arms. She was dressed in a simple gown and her pure white hair spilled over her shoulders and down her son’s arms.

“My love,” Arthur cried, taking the limp body from Tynan and placing it gently on an armless divan. She looked like an effigy on a tomb, but I could feel the heat radiating from her.

I had to dare it. Closing my eyes, I opened myself up to an awareness of her power. I’d seen it before, but the multi-color sparks were enveloped by the type of flame that is old and hot with hints of blue in its depths.

It wasn’t the only flame in the room that particular color.

As I stared at Bel, my thoughts began to re-order themselves, falling into place like tumblers in a lock. He was allied with Cleo, who was my half-sister and in league with our father. Cleo knew about the Grail, and about me. She was once married to Redcap and even he admitted that her motivation might have been for the power lying dormant within him. Morgan had become mysteriously and deathly ill, supposedly by her own hand, and requiring Arthur to seek out the Grail to save her.

Bel laughed. “Perhaps someone is beginning to catch on.”

Morgause pouted. “Don’t tease, Bel. It’s not polite.”

Arthur straightened his shoulders and I felt the almost irresistible pull of his majesty and might. “Isabelle, give me the Grail. We won’t delay a moment longer.”

But the woman leaned down to pick up the knapsack and walked over to hand it to Bel.

Click.

Morgause kneeled down beside her sister and brushed a strand of hair away from her brow, but the heat of Morgan’s skin seemed to burn her fingers. She stood and backed away, hissing in pain.

Arthur’s voice was all the scarier for how quiet it was. “Isabelle, what are you doing?”

But the woman was staring at Peter. “Try not to judge your poor aunt too harshly when you think of her. Life as a Protector was untenable, but so was going home. There had to be a third option. Bel offered another path. ”

Peter’s face was confused. “What does my Aunt Marie have to do with any of this? Did you know her?”

Bel indicated for the woman to take the Grail out of the knapsack and she did so, holding it gingerly. She looked over its edge at Peter with an unreadable expression. “Your Aunt Isabelle Marie was named after her mother so she was always called Marie. I reclaimed my first name when I reclaimed my life. Your mother never knew it, but I’ve kept an eye on you through the years. I knew what you were the moment I saw you.” Underneath the years and the hardness in her face, I could just barely see the girl in the picture Peter’s mom had given him. When I felt a surge of recognition from him, I had to block his shock to keep functioning. I didn’t blame him, but there were more important things going on than the discovery that the family black sheep was alive and well and working undercover for a sun god.

“Please.” I hated the pleading tone in Arthur’s voice. “Without the Grail, Morgan will die. Surely we can make some kind of a deal.”

Morgause was swaying in front of the windows again, her robe loose on her shoulders and her arms wide as if even the touch of her own skin against itself hurt. “I’m sorry, dear brother in law, were you under the impression that the Grail could help my sister? Morgan le Fay’s blood is pure. The Grail is a talisman of the earth magic.” When she looked over her shoulder, her pupils were as dilated as if she were stoned. “Haven’t you wondered why it let Bran the Blessed die? His blood was also pure.  The Grail can only save those who are tainted with mortal blood.”

“You’re lying.” But I could tell he believed her when the color of ash settled over him.

I struggled against the wave of crimson and garnet that threatened to overwhelm me. Everyone was making the assumption that the Grail was Arthur’s to give.

The Grail is mine, mine, mine.

I glared at Bel. “What makes you think you can use the Grail? Give it to me and stop whatever it is you’re doing to Morgan le Fay. Then maybe, maybe, I’ll let you live.”

The man looked down at me from his greater height as if I were a bug, but his answering words weren’t for me. “You were quite right when you called me the weakest of my kind, Arthur. It was all because of my whoring father and his misguided attraction to mortal barmaids. My mother was a sweet but stupid woman who managed to raise me to adulthood by opening her legs to every paying customer she could find.” He smiled. “Don’t get me wrong, I was grateful for her sacrifice. And when I finally mastered my powers, I believe she was equally grateful when I burned away her miserable life.” His voice was so rich, so cultured, that his words were doubly horrible. I felt like being sick. “So you see, Earth King, I’m willing to bet that I can use the power of the Grail’s fire, with a little help from its true owner, of course.”

I lifted my chin. “Take your fire out of Morgan le Fay and we’ll talk.”

But Bel was already shaking his head. “You’re the one in no position to bargain. The spell is a variation of a shape shifter’s fith-fath. I haven’t put my fire into her. I’m transforming her into fire. He lifted his arms and intoned:

I arise today

Through the strength of heaven;

Light of the sun,

Splendor of fire,

Speed of lightning,

Swiftness of the wind,

Depth of the sea,

Stability of the earth,

Firmness of the rock!

On the word rock, his arm shot out, fingers stiff and splayed wide. Morgan immediately seized, back arching and the tendons in her neck popping out from her skin. Arthur and Tynan held her down to keep her from hurting herself. When Bel dropped his arm, she collapsed, but the color of flame still shaded her skin. Morgause was watching with fascinated eyes.

Bel put his hands in the pockets of his tailored pants and leaned against the glass wall casually. “You see, even I as the weakest of my kind have enough power to kill a queen. But now that it’s raging out of control, I don’t have the power to stop it. Not without the Grail.” He smiled cruelly. “And then there’s the matter of Rhiannon’s Great Big Question.” He air quoted.

My heart skipped a beat; apparently all my secrets were known. Fighting the urge to steal some power from somewhere, anywhere, and disappear, I made my voice cool and unconcerned. “What question?”

The man laughed. “You should stay in Vegas, child. You’ve got one of the better poker faces I’ve encountered.” He beckoned and Morgause came to his side. “The threads of what I know are everywhere. Cleo is like a hound desperate to please the master who beats her. Between Merlin and that love-sick redcap, she’s divined almost everything there is to know about you. She thinks I’m on Merlin’s side against Arthur and Taliesin and was pathetically eager to tell me everything. Even after all these years, the legendary Cleopatra still thinks she needs a man to give her what she wants. Still, all the better for my plans.”

“So whose side are you on then?”

“Mine, only mine.”

“No surprise.”

“Remember, pots and kettles and all things black…I think that just makes us kindred spirits.” Before I could protest he clapped his hands together. “Good. Now we understand one another. Morgause . . .”

Wafted was the only way to describe how she moved to stand in front of me. Unlike many beautiful women, Morgause’s loveliness wasn’t diminished up close. Her skin was almost poreless and there was no trace of makeup on her face. Her lashes were thick and dark, and the raw, vivid color of her hair was completely natural. She exuded a scent of roses, lush and summery. The only flaws on her body were the small scratches and patches of irritated skin. As Morgause stared at me with her sisters’ eyes, I couldn’t help comparing. Viviane was logical and clear-thinking, with little emotion or tolerance. Morgan le Fay’s strength, and downfall, were her love and passion. Morgause was all sense and sensation; both the physical world and the psychic world seemed to be a constant assault on her.

No wonder she’s cray-cray.

The woman pushed a heavy strand of hair away from her face, wincing as her own fingers brushed against her cheek. “I know your questions. I have the answer to all of them, but I will only give you one. Ask.”

I glanced at Bel but his face indicated that this was what he expected.

Is he just going to give away one of his bargaining chips?

“Ok. Where is my mother Guinevere?”

Morgause nodded as if that was exactly what she was expecting, but instead of answering, she turned to look out the windows at the dark sky. “Messenger,” she murmured.

As Chloe moved to stand between us, she whispered, “I’ve tried to help you in ways you can’t know yet, but I have to obey. This is the first of my last two messages and then I’ll be free.”

I could see Morgause’s shoulders tense through the almost transparent silk of her robe, then she whipped around and hissed something into Chloe’s ears. The girl’s eyes widened in surprise. Smiling coyly, the Seer wandered back to the window, laying her cheek against the glass.

Shaking her head, Chloe sighed. “Sorry, but Morgause has been more clever than I would have ever given her credit for. Still, it’s her right to dictate how the answer is given.” Her voice became loud and formal. “I am the Messenger. The Seer has spoken and I am her voice. Thus sayeth the Seer, ‘I will answer your question, but there are conditions. Give Bel the power of the Grail’s fire and ensure my life from Arthur this day. Only then will the Messenger take you to Guinevere. The Messenger cannot tell you where she is and will not take you if you do not meet my conditions. My servant has become the Answer. If your actions violate my conditions, Guinevere will be lost forever.’” Message given, Chloe spoke in her normal voice. “That’s it.”

There was silence. Arthur was seated beside Morgan, holding her hand. Tynan hovered anxiously over them both. They didn’t care about Guinevere or the Grail. All they wanted was for Morgan to live. In fact, everyone, even Peter, was looking at me as if the choice was obvious. Only the shade of Loki the Trickster grinning at me from the foyer seemed to see the trap I’d walked into. As I stared at him, he waggled his fingers at me and winked out of existence.

So there was no other answer. “Deal,” I said.

Bel clapped his hands together again. “Excellent! Let’s get started.”

“Fine. Give me the Grail.” When he frowned, I held out my hands impatiently. “I haven’t done this before.” Which wasn’t exactly true. “Do you want me to risk messing up?”

The man nodded at Isabelle. When Peter flanked me protectively as she approached, she flushed and gave us both an apologetic look. “Don’t tell your mom, Peter. She wouldn’t understand. It’s better that everyone thinks I’m dead.”

“Agreed,” Peter said in the coldest, hardest voice I’d ever heard him use. I continued to block my awareness of him through our bond; the berserker rage that sometimes came over him would only distract me from what I had to do.

The woman tried to give me the Grail, but I jerked my head towards Peter and she handed it to him, avoiding his eyes. I decided a little show of force was necessary and pulled Excalibur out of its scabbard, causing it to become visible. Peter’s aunt backed away quickly.

Bel frowned. “I have no interest in Excalibur. Harm me and you will lose Guinevere forever. And from what I hear, your own life as well.”

“We need to share blood to do this.” I put my hand against the blade and made a small slice in the palm. Immediately, the reminder of slitting my wrists with the sword almost overcame me. The scars burned and I could feel the power of the sword probing my defenses, but I was determined to keep my vow to empty myself of magic. Through suffering, I’d rediscovered a will to live.

Cupping my hand to keep the blood from dripping out, I held Excalibur out to Arthur. “Can you help?” By offering him the sword, Excalibur would obey me and let him hold it, but I was surprised by the sense of something in the weapon that in a person would be eagerness. Arthur left Morgan’s side reluctantly, but couldn’t help the small smile that curved his lips when he took the sword. I tried not to see how Arthur’s hand tightened on the grip, or how the sword seemed like a natural extension of his body. It even appeared to be larger and heavier; the earth talisman adjusted to accommodate its wielder. I ignored the small burst of emerald jealousy.

I didn’t ask to get adopted by magical weaponry.

Bel put out his hand and Arthur made a cut, not bothering to be too careful about it. Bel grimaced but didn’t comment. When Arthur offered Excalibur back, I shook my head. “Hold on to it for a minute.” I was proud of myself for not snatching the weapon back greedily.

Even though I’d blocked my awareness of Peter, he still seemed to know my needs. Without being directed, he placed the Grail on the coffee table. When I kneeled down on one side, Bel mirrored me on the other. As I held out my hand, I wasn’t sure what I planned would work. I was able to pass the Grail’s power into Redcap because of his unique ability to absorb souls. I just had to hope that Bel’s fire magic was enough like the Grail’s that a transfer could be made. He took my hand and our blood mingled, dripping into the ring of fire just below the Grail’s rim. I was immediately suffused with blood magic—every color imaginable and some beyond the ability of the mind to comprehend. I struggled to remain aloof from it; to let it flow over me, but not take any of it into myself. A flash platinum and red-orange made me look up. The Wheel of Taranis was in Daley’s hand.

“Now what?” Bel was impatient. He couldn’t sense the powerful magic swirling around us.

The pull of electricity dancing over the Wheel’s surface and the answering lightning outside were distractions, but I managed to drag my concentration back to the Grail. Like Excalibur, it had a kind of life, but wasn’t exactly alive. Still, I formed my thoughts as if addressing a sentient being.

Give me all your power.

A picture of what to do formed in my mind. Still grasping Bel’s hand, I leaned down and put my lips to the rim. Using my free hand to tip the Grail towards me, I drank—not it’s life-giving water—

I drank its fire.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CLARET

“Viviane, you must help me! If he finds out about her, we’ll lose everything!”

I don’t want to wake up, but mommy’s voice is loud, and my face is too warm from falling asleep near the fireplace. I open my eyes, but all I can see are the flames.

“I am not sure what you expect me to do, my queen. I have already given Excalibur to Arthur, which is far more than I should have done given that it is a talisman of earth magic.” The voice is strange and unfamiliar.

Eyes half-closed, I crawl over to mommy even though I’ve just learned how to walk. She pulls me into her lap and I lay my head against her chest, but her heart is beating fast. It keeps me awake. When she laughs, I think she’s laughing at me and I start to cry, but then she makes the soothing sounds into my ear that tell me she’s near and that she loves me.

She lifts her face from my hair. “Oh Viviane, you need to know the truth!”

“What truth, Guinevere?”

“The truth about him and about what you are—about what we all are. If Merlin finds my daughter, he’ll finally be able to destroy everything!”

I can tell that mommy is scared, but the words are too strange for me to understand why. I fall back to sleep, warm against her breast.

So warm, so warm. Her heart becomes a flaming sun and I fall into it forever and forever . . .

“Remember our deal, Rhiannon.”

My eyes flew open. Soaked in all the colors of fire, I was drowning in a burning lake of damnation.

“Make it stop!” someone screamed with my voice.

Bel was yelling, “Give it to me, you stupid girl! You weren’t made for fire!”

Daley stood over us holding the Wheel of Taranis like an angry god prepared to strike. The Wheel’s electricity was fire from the sky; it was both attracted and repelled by the earthly fire in me.  Daley’s power was to stand in judgement. Staring up at him, still screaming, I knew that soon his judgement would fall on me, obliterating me from existence. I was defective, wrong. I would lose control and destroy us all. Daley wouldn’t want to do it, but his power wouldn’t allow him to turn away from his duty.

In his eyes, I saw his own surprise as his hand lifted to strike.

And then I saw my way out—the tiny connection made possible by the blood I’d shared with Bel. Desperate to escape destruction, I sent the Grail’s power through it to him.

I was blessedly cold and empty and strong arms were holding me upright—Peter’s. I must have knocked the Grail away after I drank its fire because it had rolled across the floor to Daley’s feet. Still holding the Wheel of Taranis, he was staring down into its depths as if it were the abyss of Hell. Despite what I saw, he hadn’t been standing over me at all. Maybe what I saw was a vision of his judgement, a judgement still to come. Daley took a shuddering breath and the Wheel was only a silver charm on a chain around his neck again.

Bel was standing, transferring fire through his fingers like a magician’s coin. He didn’t look that different until I closed my eyes.

Then he was a new sun.

Arthur stepped forward with Excalibur raised. “You got what you wanted. Take the spell off Morgan.”

Peter helped me up. “Like you said, a deal’s a deal, Bel.” My voice was as hoarse as if I’d been screaming for hours.

Bel laughed as flames shot from his hand to hit the ceiling and then fell to the ground in star-shaped sparks. “Yes, I was too weak before to stop the spell once it started. Unfortunately, I’m far too powerful now for the delicacy required. I’m afraid I would quite bollocks it up.” Before anyone could stop him, he flicked his fingers at Morgan le Fay.

The woman was caught up into the air, back arching unnaturally until there was a sickening sound of something cracking. For a moment, her skin was the color of an ember deep in the fire, then the light went out and she fell to the ground, smoke curling out of her open mouth and empty eye sockets.

We stared at her in horror.

With a strangled cry of grief and rage, Arthur swung at Bel with Excalibur, but the man created a wall of flame which obscured his movements long enough for him to escape. When the flames died down, he was already on the terrace. As we watched, he leaped off the ledge. I ran outside. The sides of the building descended down into the darkness as if into an endless abyss, but a ball of flame containing Bel slid down them.

Not knowing what to do, I went back inside. Arthur was holding Morgan in his arms, rocking back and forth and keening—a sound of utter desolation. Tynan had fallen to his knees, tears streaming down his face for the mother who’d stabbed him through the heart.

I looked at the others for help. Morgause was wandering around the room shaking her hands as if the sound of Arthur’s grief was hurting her. Chloe tried to calm her, but the Seer recoiled from her touch. Miko was sobbing softly and Titania had her arms around the girl’s shoulders. Daley was staring into the Grail as if he was looking for answers in the drops of life-giving water left at the bottom.

“She’s gone,” Peter said. I thought he meant Morgan until I realized Isabelle was missing.

I shook my head. “Never mind her.”

I’m filing Isabelle under the least of my worries.

I tugged on Arthur’s arm, forcing him to give me his attention. “Bel’s gone. We need to stop him.”

Ignoring me, Arthur murmured something into Morgan’s snowy hair, and then lifted her off the floor to lay her back down on the divan. I tried not to watch. From the odd angle of her body, I could see that the last spasm had broken her back. I was grateful when Tynan leaned over and gently closed her lids over the empty eye sockets.

There was a shimmer in the air and Thomas Redcap appeared in the middle of the room. “I come at the call of the death of a Great One.” He was staring at Morgan le Fay as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Hope ignited in Arthur’s face. “Don’t let her go. Don’t let her go.”

“Of course not, my lord.” With his cap back on, I couldn’t see the expression on Thomas Redcap’s face. I turned away so I also wouldn’t see him tear the skin off Morgan’s arm and eat it as he had with Viviane. It was a redcap’s way, but I didn’t have to like it.

“Do you have her?” Arthur asked eagerly.

When I looked, Redcap was backing away from the body, but he seemed uncertain. “Enough that she will never be forgotten among our people.”

The king’s face darkened. “Just enough isn’t good enough. I know the history of your kind. I know what they did. And I know what you can do. I don’t want fragments! I want all of her!”

Redcap looked at the Earth King in shock. “You don’t understand. That’s not what you want. If I go too far down that road, I might not be able to stop myself. The pressure of so complete a soul could drive me mad. You don’t know what you’re asking of me!”

Arthur lifted Excalibur and placed the tip at Redcap’s throat. “I know exactly what I’m asking. Do what you were made for or die here beside her.”

“Arthur, stop!” I cried, but the blade swung towards me before I could move.

“Don’t think Excalibur will keep me from killing you if you get in my way, Rhiannon. It may be yours, for now, but the scars on your wrist are proof that it’s quite willing to let you die.”

Redcap had edged towards the door, but Tynan grabbed him roughly and pulled him back to Morgan’s side. I had no doubt Redcap was Tynan’s equal in strength, but he was staring at Morgan as if mesmerized.

He’s been battling the cravings of his kind for hundreds of years and now Arthur’s handed him a bloody buffet.

“Thomas! You don’t have to do this!” I think it was my unexpected use of his first name that made him look at me, but when his gaze returned hungrily to Morgan’s body, I knew he’d lost the war.

The next few minutes were some of the most terrible of my life. The others huddled in corners or hid their faces. I heard the sound of retching more than once. Eventually, even Arthur looked away, though he continued to aim Excalibur at Redcap. It was unnecessary. Once Redcap passed a certain point, he had no way of returning. What began as the delicate shearing of skin eventually became the stripping of flesh and the gouging of viscera. Only Morgause watched with me, eyes wide with fascination and longing. She looked as if she wished she could shed her skin too.

I bore witness—witness to when a man who loved me, and who I might have been able to love back, became a slathering, ravening beast. Bathed and gorged in Morgan le Fay’s blood, cap bright with it, the creature looked at me with red eyes. Then the air shimmered and it disappeared.

Titania found a throw on one of the couches and placed it over the remains. The white wool was immediately stained red through and through.

When Arthur offered me Excalibur, I took it with shaking hands. “I know what you’re thinking. I know you believe I’ve done something terrible to the redcap, and you may be right, but this is war. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made. I will find a way to bring Morgan back, but I need to contain her soul until then. Think of how Viviane was returned to us.”

If you call a half-life tethered to a lake and her new undead daughter a victorious return.

When I didn’t respond, he sighed and nodded to Titania. “You two, take to the air and find Bel, but don’t engage until we join you. We’ll come as fast as we can.” The two fairies agreed. Eager to leave the carnage, they ran out onto the terrace and leaped from the side in a flurry of red and black wings

Looking at Daley who was still staring into the Grail as if mesmerized, Arthur frowned but turned away without issuing any orders to the young man. Daley was Taliesin’s; Arthur didn’t seem to have any real interest in him.

Unsure of who I belonged to, I slid Excalibur into its sheath and tried to walk, but my legs nearly collapsed underneath me. Someone grabbed my arm and I was surprised to discover it was Chloe. She smelled faintly of recent vomit, but her gaze was direct. “Sorry, I guess that ring held Bel less time than I thought it would. I’ll stay with Morgause while you go after him. We’ll . . . clean up here. Arthur will need what’s left of Morgan if he hopes to find some way to resurrect her. After that, I’m with you. I’m your Message, remember? Don’t leave me behind.”

Nodding, I pulled away. Arthur strode to the door and the rest of us followed, but Loki appeared, blocking the way. “Sorry, my lord, but the security protocols have been triggered.”

Morgause’s tinkling laughter sounded insane. “Bel’s always been such a naughty man. I knew I shouldn’t have let him coax the password out of me. I don’t suppose he left it unchanged, did he?”

Loki bowed mockingly. “No, my lady. Isabelle gave me my instructions as she left.”

Morgause pouted. “What instructions?”

The Trickster’s eyes twinkled with malice. “Why, to not open the door until you’ve all died of hunger and thirst, of course.” He laughed at the look on our faces. “No, just until she and Bel are far enough away.”

The Seer shooed him away with her hands. “Nonsense, open the door, Loki.”

“Not yet, my lady.”

Arthur strode straight through the shade which wavered and then reformed. The Earth King twisted the doorknob, but even though his muscles bulged with the effort, the door wouldn’t open.

Loki grinned. “Reinforced steel similar to the type they use in safe rooms, my lord. Morgause had the architect turn this whole condo into a possible safe zone.”

The Seer had wandered back to the wall of windows. “Well of course I did, silly. Not everyone likes their truth, even when they ask for it.”

“He’s getting away!” Arthur growled.

Tynan’s eyes widened as he thought of something. “Father! I know you were asleep for a long time, but you’re still the Pendragon!”

Arthur didn’t seem to understand, but then an expression of joy transformed his features. Running out onto the terrace, he lifted his arms and shouted, “Dewi, I call thee!”

Peter and I caught up with Tynan as he followed Arthur outside. I grabbed his arm to make him look at me. “What’s he doing?”

Tynan was grinning like a boy. “Father once had a vision of a great bear being conquered by a red dragon. He thought it meant he was destined to defeat his enemies, so he had the image of a dragon sewn on all his standards. But it wasn’t just a vision. When he was surrounded by an army of Saxons and facing certain death, the dragon appeared and saved him. That was the beginning of his understanding that he was the Earth King.”

I stared at him. “Are you trying to tell me a dragon is going to show up at any moment? A real one?”

Tynan nodded as he watched the sky. “It’s an embodiment of the fire of the earth. It obeys the Earth King.”

I didn’t remind him that two of the earth talismans had already abandoned Arthur.

A spark in the air hurtled towards us. As it grew larger, I knew that the thing the ghost of Melusine had turned into was like a child’s toy compared to the creature descending upon us. Flames streamed from its nostrils with every breath, lighting up the sky. The dragon was the size of something from a monster movie poised to destroy New York City, but it flew gracefully above the buildings. Burgundy-colored scales covered it, but where the fire reflected off them, they sprang to vivid, crimson life.

As it landed on the edge of the terrace, its wings beat the air into powerful gusts and we were knocked to the ground. I could feel Peter’s wild joy where he crouched beside me, but I didn’t share it. Almost against my will, I looked up.

Straight into the slitted pupil of a giant eye.

I’d been afraid so many times in the past few months that I’d become an expert in discerning the subtle shadings hidden within the white of terror, but what I experienced now was pure nothingness. Just when I thought I would lose my mind, the warmth of the dragon’s power filled me. It was the color of a fire that warms a home in the middle of the winter, not burns it down.

Rise, little Earth Queen.

And there it was in the voice in my mind, the answer to everything. Those who had orchestrated the political alliance between Arthur and Guinevere must have known they were both heirs to the earth’s power. Merlin must have known it when he chose to add her to his breeding program.

But Arthur didn’t.

Don’t let him know.

The scaled head turned to regard Arthur who was watching us with a different kind of terror on his face—a terror that even this had abandoned him.

He is still my son and the eldest of your kind. I will defer to his authority, but I am yours to command, Earth Queen, for you have held the fire within you.

I can’t take this from him too.

As you wish.

The Red Dragon—for I could tell from its thoughts that this was the name it gave itself—edged along the glass balustrade of the terrace nimbly. Given its size, I would have thought the glass would have shattered, but the creature appeared to be lighter than air, like a hot air balloon. By the way its body kept floating upwards, its claws were gripping more to keep itself from drifting away.

Arthur and the dragon shared a silent communication. Whatever was said between them, Arthur relaxed. Placing his hand on the dragon’s side the way you would with a horse, he said simply, “We will ride.”

Tynan and Peter both approached the dragon with awe on their faces, but I realized suddenly that Daley was still inside. I ran back into the apartment where Chloe was kneeling by Morgause. The Seer was crouched on the floor and staring through the glass at the dragon as if paralyzed.

Chloe looked up. “I’ll stay with her until Loki lets me leave, but then I have to go with you to deliver your message. The magic won’t let me rest until I do.”

“Meet me at Track 61. Do you know where that is? I’ll join you as soon as I can.” No matter what happened next, I had to find Guinevere. Arthur would seek his revenge, but I had other priorities.

Then why are you following Bel at all, Rhi? Is it because you can’t let the fire go?

Chloe nodded. “I came in on Track 61 when I was given into Morgause’s service. Bel didn’t like using Paths when Morgause sent us on missions, but I can get to it again.”

“What about the Seer?”

My question drew Morgause’s attention away from the dragon and she stirred. “You must think me a poor prophetess to not predict Bel’s betrayal.” She lurched forward suddenly onto all fours. “But I did! There are dolls nesting in dolls here, plans overlaid with plans. I see them all. You sometimes have to go all the way to the bottom to find the path which leads up.”

Whatever you say, crazy lady.

But she wasn’t done. “You’ll understand well enough before the end. You carry a geas and will either live or die in fulfilling it, and the rest of us with you. Have mercy on us, Child of Blood, Eater of Bones and Life! Have pity on us, Destroyer of Worlds, and Scouring Wind! Choose rightly and blood will run like a river! Choose wrongly and it will pour out like the sea!” But she completed the prophesy slightly differently. “You cannot say that you have not been warned by me, but my plea will come to you through one who is mine.” I knew the change was deliberate, but not its significance. I would get no further answer from the woman. Sitting back on her heels, Morgause was scratching at the skin on her arms as if insects were burrowing under her skin.

Rolling her eyes, Chloe pushed the Seer’s hands away and hauled her to her feet. “C’mon, let’s get you dressed in something decent.” The girl smirked at me as she led Morgause away.

I didn’t have time to worry about riddles; a glance outside showed me that the others were already on the dragon’s back. “Daley, we need to go.” He had picked the Grail up off the floor and I put my hand out for it. When he didn’t move, I knew with absolute certainty that he wasn’t coming.

Electricity arced between him and my outstretched hand. Tingling with the sting of it, I let it travel down my arm and through my body, joining us together with power. When the charm form of the Wheel of Taranis sparked against his chest, I could feel it too. I could even sense his thoughts, and what I sensed filled me with dismay. The ghost-dragon had only been a twisted version of Melusine’s spirit. With the Grail, he could bring the girl he once loved back to her perfect, pre-death state. I could feel the torment of his longing for her.

How does he bear it?

But I could also feel that he knew what I was offering him. My ability to take power also gave me the ability to share his—to help carry the burden of it. I could feel what a burden it truly was. It was so much more than the ability to control thunder, storm, and lightning. His ancestor Thor/Einridi was called the Champion of the Gods, but the truth was closer to Taskmaster and Judge of the Gods. Dormant in Daley was the right to command those of Greylander blood and impose his will and judgement on them. His power was a dark mirror of the Earth King’s. Earth magic served its people, but Daley’s power had no pity or remorse. I realized that he fought its rise every single day.

As we shared a communion deeper than mere love, Daley began to let go of his feelings for Melusine. They slipped off him like a tattered robe, colors faded and muddied.

Then I ruined it.

While I wanted Daley with every ounce of my human self—while my Greylander half made me his truest match—I couldn’t control my hunger for power. Without meaning to, I yanked some of it out of him and into myself. There was a moment of wild ecstasy as Daley’s storm flooded my body, then I was cold, so cold when I saw the look on his face.

Clutching the Grail to his chest, Daley stared at me.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

He turned and marched over to Loki. The shade made a sweeping bow towards the door; Bel was far enough away that the security protocols had turned off. When Daley opened the door and walked through without looking back, Loki disappeared.

Peter was yelling at me to come. I could feel the exhilaration of his joy at the chance to ride a dragon, but he wouldn’t leave without me. I didn’t know what to do.

Do I chase the Grail’s fire or its water?

There was no real choice. Chasing Daley after what I’d done was a useless exercise. Running back out onto the terrace, I chose fire.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

FLAME

Riding on a dragon’s back was even more uncomfortable than I would have imagined, but not for the imagined reasons. Instead of being rough, the Red Dragon’s scales were too smooth to grip easily, and the creature’s body felt light and insubstantial; it was like riding on a blowup pool toy. More than once, Peter had to grab me before I slipped off, and Tynan behind him returned the favor. Only Arthur seemed able to find the proper balance between holding on for dear life and moving with the creature’s muscles, though he jumped off just as fast as we did once we landed.

The Red Dragon had only needed to be told he was chasing the Grail’s fire to leap off Morgause’s building and take flight in a definite direction. One57 was only a few blocks from Central Park and that was our destination. The park was famous—endlessly depicted on film and TV—but I was amazed at the size of it as we flew over. On the ground in a densely forested section in the north end, I felt as lost as I was on the Path we chased Melusine down.

The dragon had carefully picked its way through trees to land in a ravine, at the bottom of which was a stream and waterfall. With a huff of its breath, it cleared the snow from the stone path and rested comfortably.

“What now?” I asked.

“Dewi says that the grailfire is near.” He said the dragon’s name with a lilt, making it sound like deh-wee. I hadn’t got any sense of the dragon having any name other than Red Dragon, but I had to admit that Arthur’s association with it was longer than mine.

The forest was dark; there was no artificial lighting in this section of the park. People were likely continuing their New Year’s celebrations not too far away, but I couldn’t hear them. Luckily the dragon’s body was slightly translucent. The fire within it emitted a faint glow that illuminated the surrounding area.

“What about Titania and Miko? Do you think they found him? They must have seen us coming. Half of New York probably did.”

But Arthur was already shaking his head. “Dewi can only be seen by those with at least a fair portion of magic in their blood. On his back, we were as invisible as he was. Titania would have seen him though, and her mastery of the forest is exceeded only by Goodfellow. It worries me that they haven’t come to meet us. I told them not to engage with the fire demon.”

Peter pointed up. “There’s still a few leaves on the trees and the ravine is deep. They could be at the top and not able to see us now that we’ve landed.” I could feel that he was still high from his ride on a dragon, but the feeling slipped away as worry for Miko replaced it.

Tynan touched his father’s arm to get his attention. “We should split up. We can’t risk losing Bel. He has to pay for what he did to my mother.”

Arthur clasped his son’s hand in agreement. “We will follow the demon. Dewi senses he is north of us along the river, but the path is too narrow and wet for the dragon. We’ll go on foot.” He nodded at me. “You two find the fairies. Meet us north of here as fast as you can.”

“Yes, sir,” I muttered, but Arthur and Tynan were already striding away. From behind, they looked like mirror images of one another.

Peter and I took the pathway that headed up, and by the time we reached the road at the top of the ravine, I was thinking of the dragon’s warm back with nostalgia. We could see the lights of the city beyond the park now.

“Miko!” I called, but there was no answer.

I felt a tug on our bond. “Spit it out, then. What is it?” Worry made me sharp.

Shoving his fists in his pocket, Peter looked miserable. “I know you have this sense of me because we’re best friends.”

“And because Viviane made sure we were thrown together so you’d become my bonded Protector,” I reminded him.

“That too. Anyway, I know you can feel a lot of what I feel. Maybe it’s stronger for you because of what you are, but I’ve always known what you were feeling too.”

I pushed away my irritation. “Yeah.”

“The thing is, I can feel that ever since we got the Grail, something’s different.”

I sighed. “I’ve been stealing magic like a magpie all my life. I was filled with it. Somehow I was able to weave it all into a spell to force the Grail’s fire out of me. Now I’m empty except for our bond.” The remnants of electricity on my skin called me a liar, but I didn’t mention Daley.

“But you can still sense magic, right?”

“I can, but I don’t want to.”

His eyebrows disappeared into the fringe of his hair. “Why not?”

“Because . . .” I took a deep breath. “Because the temptation keeps getting stronger. When I sense magic, a part of me wants to take it, no matter who I hurt. I’m afraid that eventually I won’t be able to stop myself.”

Peter ruffled my hair and pulled me into a hug. Pressed against his chest, I could sense the magic that made him a Protector. I was usually blinded to it by the bright green of our bond, but I could feel the rich earth tones, the warm bronzes, and the grey steel mottled with dark rust. The first colors were his powers, but also his traits of dependability, humility, and straightforwardness. The steel was the ruthlessness of a warrior and the rust was the berserker rage that sometimes came over him, though I didn’t know if it was a corruption particular to him, or something that was part of every Protector. I was momentarily reassured to realize his colors didn’t arouse in me a desire to take them.

Maybe because I have access to them through our bond any time I want.

Before some of what I was thinking leaked over into him, I pushed the thought away. “So you want me to find Miko by opening my senses up to her magic.”

“I’m worried about her. I know I’m not like you, but I just have this feeling that something’s wrong. And I know we need to find Bel too, but . . .”

“But what?”

“Haven’t you noticed how weirdly intense Miko is about Titania?”

I sighed. “Look, I know things are awful between you two right now, and I don’t blame you for being jealous . . .”

“It’s not that!” He took a steadying breath and his swift anger receded. “I’m not blind. Miko’s Ex, Titania—they both understand things about her that I never can. But what I understand is that she’s not the same person she was before. It’s not just new wings and pale skin. Miko is someone completely different now.”

I stared at him for a moment. “So why do you still love her?”

“Because I do. I can’t help it.”

Peter jumped when I put my hand flat against his chest. It was hidden deep, but a fine thread of ebony bound him to someone out there in the darkness. Perhaps it was just a byproduct of his ability to bond as a Protector—and I could have easily broken it now that I’d found it—but it was real.

I took the sides of his jacket and gave them a tug. “OK then. Follow me.”

The bond allowed me to track Miko without opening myself to her power, but the trail surprised me by heading away from the direction Bel had gone. Whatever had distracted the two fairies, it wasn’t him. As we jogged along the road to where my sense of Miko ended, we encountered more people coming home from parties or using the cover of the park for late night illicit encounters. When I turned around in frustration, one couple caught my eye. Half hidden in the darkness just off the road, they were pressed against a tree, writhing against one another.

Embarrassed and a little shocked, I was just about to look away when one of the figures lifted its head. The light of the streetlamp illuminated the sharp edge of a white cheekbone, a gleam of teeth, and a swath of dark hair. I grabbed Peter’s arm, trying to pull him away before he could take in the scene, but it was too late.

“Miko?” His voice was a whisper, but it filled the air like a shout. The fairy let go of her companion and stepped back from the tree in surprise.

And Titania’s body slid to the ground.

It was obvious she was dead. She was so drained of life that the wounds on her neck were almost white, and her skin was as papery and dry as a thousand year old mummy.

I had no memory of reaching for it, but Excalibur was in my hand. The sword had been created to combat darkness and this was about as dark as it got. It pulled at me, urging me to strike, but Miko wasn’t looking at me or the threat I held in my hand. She was looking back and forth between Peter and Titania’s corpse as if she couldn’t believe she was seeing either of them.

“I didn’t! I didn’t mean . . . I was just so hungry!” Her face went dreamy as if the thought reminded her of what had sated that hunger. “I’m the first of my kind. Human blood wouldn’t help. Titania figured that out. She let me feed. She was my friend . . .”

“You murdered her!” Peter screamed. The berserker rage was building again.

Miko shook her head wildly. “No! You don’t understand! It helped at first, but then it wasn’t enough. In humans, blood is everything; it’s the essence life. But in fairies, there’s more. There’s glamour. I had to have it. It was the only way to make the hunger go away. It was the only way to survive. When we came here, she kissed me, and she let me feed.” She stared at Titania as if she didn’t understand what the crumbling thing at her feet was. “And I couldn’t stop.”

The Peter I knew would never hurt the girl he loved, no matter what she’d done, but the Protector beside me pulled a gun out from under his jacket and fired.

With a sweep of her wings, the dark fairy launched herself into the air and the shot missed. As she looked down at him, there was nothing human and very little fairy left in her face, yet I could still sense her deep feeling of betrayal that Peter would try to kill her. Before he could shoot again, she flew away into the cover of the trees. I could see an ebony and rose cord between them; it frayed and broke, disintegrating into dust along with the body of the fairy queen. They mingled and were lifted by the wind and blown away.

A shiver of light in my peripheral vision made me turn, but my breath caught in my chest when something emerged from the trees, grimy with dirt and dead leaves. It was wearing a cap at an almost jaunty angle, stiff and dark with dried blood. When the creature turned its head to look at me, its eyes were red.

“No, Thomas,” I moaned, but I wasn’t sure what I was begging it not to do. I must have taken an involuntary step forward because Peter’s hand was on my arm, pulling me back.

Circling where Titania had died, the redcap seemed dismayed not to find any remains, but then it straightened and grinned, showing sharp teeth with shreds of flesh still caught in them. “I told you once you reminded me of someone. A girl I knew. A girl I loved.” The calmness of his voice only made the madness in his eyes more terrible. “She was one of my kind, but something else too. Her mother would never speak of who the father was, even when a strange power began to grow in the girl. Fool that I am, I refused to see it. I called her a ghaoil, my darling, and made a promise to marry her. All the while she smiled at me and kissed me, she was testing the limits of her new power. I couldn’t deny it any longer when a young man of our acquaintance, another suitor, was found dead with her hovering over his body. Feeding it seemed. My people cast her out, but I heard years later that she’d entered Arthur’s court. She escaped the destruction of our people and whether she lives today I cannot say, but the last I heard of her, a man had written a poem of her exploits. La Belle Dame sans Merci he called her.” I couldn’t find the man I cared about in the glowing red of its eyes, but its smile was a kind of evil promise.

Was the girl he loved a leanan sidhe? Could she still be alive?

Does he think of me as a woman without mercy?

I opened my mouth to ask, but denied the meal of a Great One, the last of the redcaps denied me any answers by slipping away into the darkness.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CINNABAR

The pull of our bond dragged my Protector along behind me. Somewhere underneath that mantle, a young man was grieving the loss of his innocence, but I needed my warrior now.

Because the Grail’s fire had begun to scream.

Travelling on the road, we’d come close to Bel’s location, but were up too high.  As we descended back down the ravine, a stone bridge with an arched tunnel underneath it loomed ahead. Arthur and Tynan were standing at the mouth of it, staring at a bright light inside. As I approached, Arthur turned. “Titania?”

“I’m sorry. She’s dead.” When he swung back with a growl, I didn’t tell him that it wasn’t by Bel’s hand, even though Excalibur still pulled at me to go after Miko.

Arthur and Tynan were blocking my view of the tunnel and I stepped around them to see what they were looking at. It was as unexpected as it was horrific. Bel was rolling on the ground trying to put out the fire consuming him. His mouth was open wide in the rictus of a scream, but there was no sound. Bile rose in my throat as I realized the man’s vocal cords had been burned away.

Tynan’s expression was cold. “When we found him, he was struggling to keep control, but then something seemed to snap and the fire was all over him. He’s a Greylander. He should never have messed with earth magic.”

Even though the difference between the two magics seemed tenuous to me, I knew he was essentially right. The fire belonged to the Grail alone.

I gestured helplessly. “Isn’t there anything we can do to help him?”

Arthur stared at me as if I’d gone mad. “And why should we help the fiend?”

“No one should have to die like that,” I said before I remembered that Bel hadn’t extended Morgan any mercy. “I’m sorry.”

Arthur’s sigh was dark and heavy. “Don’t be. You’re right. A king should dispense justice, not cruelty.” He held out his hand. “May I use Excalibur? Just for a moment. My hand is steadier on a sword than it is on a gun.”

Tynan reached under his jacket. “I’ll do it, father.”

“No, this is my duty. I am the Earth King.”

Not able to think of a good excuse to refuse, I gave Arthur the sword and he smiled in satisfaction at holding it again. It seemed larger and gleamed brighter in his hand. I walked with him towards Bel, telling myself it wasn’t because I didn’t want him to get too far away from me with Excalibur.

As we stared down at the burning man, he stared back at us. Bel was a fire demon. Though his power of speech was now gone, his skin was only burned and blackened in a few places. The grailfire may have rejected him, but it would take its time finishing him off. I had the horrible thought that he might go years before death released him from the pain.

I told myself that Bel’s eyes were begging for us to end his suffering, but the truth was that I could sense his continued struggle to master the Grail’s power. He would never give up, no matter what it did to him. Given enough time, he might even succeed.

Then I told myself that wasn’t the real reason I motioned for Arthur to proceed.

It was only as he raised Excalibur that the answering twitch in my hand re-awakened a twinge of pain from the cut on my palm. As the sword descended, I realized my terrible mistake.

“No!” I screamed.

Bel and I are still connected by our shared blood. The fire will seek the Grail through me!

But before I could say any of that, Excalibur cleaved Bel’s heart in two and I became a pillar of flame.

CHAPTER TWENTY

CRIMSON

This time there was no hiding in unconsciousness; I was exquisitely aware of my agony. I was also aware that I was thrashing uncontrollably on the ground, screaming and screaming. I’d only had a taste of the Grail’s power when it entered me through the cut on my hand in the castle of the Fisher King. Now its entirety had emptied into me. It was more than my mortal half could bear, but as my mind burned, I still understood with perfect clarity that my Greylander heritage would allow me to suffer for months, maybe years, before I was granted the release of death. Everything I thought I knew about myself, every good or noble thought, was ashes. The only thing that mattered was making the pain stop.

I will do anything to make it stop.

Somewhere outside myself the others were trying to help me. Tynan packed my heated limbs with snow while Arthur braved the flames on my skin to hold me down and keep me from injuring myself. I could feel Peter desperately trying to reach me through our bond to help me regain control over the magic.

None of it could touch me. I was alone in the universe, a burning comet hurtling through nothingness.

Then my hand brushed against something sweetly, blessedly cool. Somehow I knew it was the pale pink, smooth-skinned apple from Avalon. It had to have fallen out of my pocket. My fingers clutched at it. It was my lifeline, and nothing which had gone before—not Guinevere, not Viviane, not even poor Seolan—was important anymore.

Father! Don’t let me die like this!

I opened my eyes and looked around in surprise at a scene out of a dream. I stood on a sloping hill looming over a grassy valley. Its colors were muted, grey, and the ground underneath my feet felt slightly insubstantial. I turned around. A few yards away, low-lying fog obscured the bottom of a stone tower that stretched up into pewter-edged clouds.

Relief spread through my limbs as I realized where I was. “Avalon,” I sighed.

“Not precisely.” As Merlin walked towards me out of the mist, I finally understood how he’d seduced Guinevere and so many other women. In the softer light of Avalon, his silver hair gleamed, and his face was younger and less cruel. Dressed in robes the color of slate, he appeared to be only a few years past middle age and still devastatingly handsome.

The thought of Merlin’s breeding program was nauseating, but I forced myself to ignore it and instead allowed myself to be grateful for the weak sun above which produced little heat and the cool, wet breeze on my face.

“If I’m not in Avalon, then where am I?”

My father stood beside me and together we gazed down at the valley below. A field of flowers the color of lichen ran across the bottom. Beyond them, a river coiled into the distance like a ribbon of liquid silver. He lifted a graceful hand. “Here, but not all the way. A part of you is in Avalon and anyone who happened across us would be able to see you. A part of me is with you in New York and I’m quite sure Arthur can see me as well. I wonder what he’s making of it.”

“How do you know I’m with Arthur?”

He turned and made a motion as if to brush a strand of hair from my cheek, but didn’t actually touch me. Searing pain ran across my face. Just as quickly, it was gone.

“What was that?” I gasped.

Merlin’s lips were pale but beautifully formed, almost chiseled looking. The corner of one side lifted ever so slightly. “I’m blocking your conscious awareness of your body so we can have a civilized discussion without all the screaming getting in the way.”

“A discussion about what?”

“I have no idea.” He indicated the apple in my hand. “I wasn’t the one who activated this communication. The last I saw you, you dropped a building on me. It was unpleasant, but I have to admit I was impressed.” He clasped his hands behind his back and walked away a bit, the mist swirling around his legs. “I also sensed what you did to control the grailfire. I would never have expected you would be able to give up so much power to create that spell. As it turns out, it’s a good thing for you that you did. You would be overwhelmed already if you hadn’t made a little storage room in your soul.” He shrugged. “Not that it will save you unless you can return the fire to the Grail.”

The sensation of heat flickered through me again and I was suddenly aware that most of my clothing was hanging around me in burnt tatters. The heat of embarrassment followed. As I crossed my arms over my chest to cover myself, there was a shimmer in the haze and a grey gown and soft leather boots lay on the ground at my feet.

With a small smirk, Merlin turned away while I shed my ruined clothes. Thankfully my ID and phone seemed a bit singed but otherwise OK. The cash I’d been carrying was burned all along one side but would still be usable. So was the leather holster that held Excalibur’s scabbard. As I changed, slipping everything into the deep pocket in the skirt of the gown and refastening the scabbard around my waist, I tried not to think about New York and the fire that was eating me whole.

If it’s working on my clothes, then my skin is next.

When I cleared my throat, he turned around, eyebrow lifted in expectation. I took a deep breath. “I need your help. I know you created me to be a living storage receptacle for the power you can’t contain yourself. I’ve felt you put power into me before, so it stands to reason that you can take it from me too. Please take the Grail’s power from me. Please get it out of me!” I was beginning to panic. When the look on his face didn’t soften, I added the only other thing I could to my plea. “I’m your daughter.”

Merlin grimaced at the word before shaking his head. “I doubt my nature would be compatible with the earth magic. The Grail was made to contain a power that living beings can’t. Why don’t you just return it to the talisman?”

I wasn’t sure if the aching feeling in my throat was from unshed tears or if the fire was now eating away my voice the way it did Bel’s. “Someone stole it,” I admitted finally.

He clicked his tongue. “You lost the Grail? How unfortunate. Still, I could feel its power calling to you before you found it.”

I hated that he somehow knew that. “Yes.”

“How did you control it then?” He darted towards me, his face avid. “How did it make you feel?”

I didn’t want to tell him, but there was no point trying to hide my sins now. “I almost couldn’t control it. It filled me with so much rage, but it also showed me things I could do, the power I could wield with that feeling if only I could master it. It was frightening, but it was exciting too.”

Merlin smiled. “Perhaps I have become jaded by my failures with your siblings, blinded to the possibility that you might be wasted as a mere receptacle. Perhaps what you really are is a weapon. I can show you how to save yourself, but there’s a price for such knowledge. You will bind yourself to find Guinevere and make her free me. After that, I will begin again to create a new, equally suitable receptacle for power to replace you. If I succeed, and only if, then you can take your place in Avalon beside me as my champion and heir.”

Heat began to fill the air between us, making it hard to breathe. “I told you before that I would find Guinevere.” I tried not to think about what he was planning to do to her once she took the Wall down and he needed new offspring to replace me.

He waved my protest away. “You would have said anything then to stop the pain. Now that a part of you is in my realm, I can lay a geas upon you that you won’t be so easily able to escape.” His eyes glittered with amusement.

He knows that’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do.

If Merlin was laying a binding spell on me, I couldn’t feel it in the grey, smothering atmosphere of Avalon. He made a stroking motion down my body, though he still didn’t touch me. “Are we agreed?”

As the heat increased, I couldn’t speak, so I nodded yes. That seemed to be the signal for the fire to find me again. Crying out in torment, back arching, I was under the bridge in Central Park. A wall of flame now surrounded me and had pushed the others away.

Merlin stood beside me, glaring at Arthur through the blaze. “Yes, my protégé, it is war between us at last. Soon I will be free and then one of us will take the world.” He closed his eyes for a moment, face set in concentration, then made a motion with one hand.

The flames froze, and with them, the pain—he’d taken us out of Time. I could almost perceive the weave of color and pattern that made up the spell, but I was too exhausted to hold on to any sense of it. I was still holding the pink apple in my hand. I tucked it into the pocket of my skirt with my ID and phone.

Folding his arms and pacing the inside of the circle of fire, Merlin was now the patient teacher. “You’ll still eventually need to find the Grail and return its fire. You have no other option. No body—human or otherwise—was meant to contain all of either of its powers. The Grail was only ever to be used in small doses. Its fire could strengthen a champion or destroy an enemy, and its water could rescue from illness or death. Most beings can bear a little magic; it passes through them and returns to its origin. You, however, are different. You’re like me. What you take, you keep, and the desire to take more will only grow and grow until it becomes an unbearable hunger.” For a moment, that hunger was naked on his face and I knew I was looking at my future. It was the same future I saw in Miko as she drained Titania. “I need you, or someone like you, as a container for the power I can’t hold on my own. You need the same. A child of your body would be best.”

When he raised his eyebrow, it took me a moment to work out what he was asking. “No, there isn’t . . . I mean, I don’t have a child.”

“Then this will have to do in the short term.” He stopped pacing in front of Peter.

“What do you mean?”

“This young man is your bonded Protector. With a little effort, you can funnel enough power into him through that bond to buy you time to find the Grail. It’s not ideal, but it should work.”

I stared at him in dismay. “I can’t do that! It might kill him!”

Merlin cocked his head, considering Peter. “I don’t think so. He looks strong and the Protector bond will give you access to that extra power if you ever need it. In fact, once you get rid of the grailfire, you might consider continuing to use him in that way.” He looked at me. “Have you been to see one of your mortal doctors yet? It isn’t your imagination that something is happening inside you. No purebred Greylander can withstand my power and all the other hybrids I’ve created have had their brains liquefy almost as quickly. I’m willing to spare you in exchange for your use as my weapon, but your own hunger for power will only increase the pressure on the corruption in your body. If you do what I’m suggesting, you’ll buy the time you need to prove your usefulness to me as well. Of course, I admit that you may find yourself in need of a new Protector, but they’ve always been plentiful. After I succeed in creating your replacement, I may even be willing to make you a new container of your own.” His eyes glittered. “Haven’t you always wanted a baby brother?”

“I won’t do it.” I moved to pull him away from Peter, but my feet tangled in the unfamiliar length of the gown and I fell to my knees.

Merlin laughed. “No? Prove me wrong then.” As he waved his hand, the weave of the spell unraveled and he disappeared.

When every nerve cried out in suffering, I knew I was back in Time. I would have gladly chosen death over the pain, but my still unblemished skin was proof that death was no friend to me. As the power destroyed all conscious thought, I couldn’t remember my name or the names of my friends. I couldn’t remember the world.

A bright green cut through the fire as someone braved the flames and kneeled beside me, taking my hand. I couldn’t think who it was, but I could hear him. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, but the words had no meaning. All I could understand was the rope between us. It led from a place near my heart to a green pool, deep and cool—a perfect place to extinguish a fiery power. Someone had told me I would find it, and what I should do with it, but I couldn’t remember who.

Embracing the peridot-green rope, I sent the conflagration coursing down it like electricity through a power line and was finally liberated as the flames died on my skin.

There was a strange, choking sound and I looked down to see a young man seizing at my feet. I tried to think who he was.

“Rhiannon! Stop! You’re killing him!” Another young man with dark, slightly shaggy hair was screaming at me.

“Who?” I asked with real curiosity.

“It’s Peter!”

I grasped at the scraps of meaning the name invoked, but the boy had already stopped shaking. Waving away the dark-haired young man’s help, he stood, swaying a little on his feet. “Stop now, Rhi.”

Surprised by the command in his voice, I obeyed. The flow of power snapped back into me and a wave of heat responded, but this time I was able to soothe the anger and violence inside and regain control. Once I did, I knew him again. It was Peter, my best and only friend. He was staring at me, breathing heavily, and though our bond was saturated with power, I could still feel the shock of my betrayal humming through it. I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn’t think of anything to say.

When I offered no explanation, he shook his head. “If you’d asked . . . I would have . . . I would have done anything for you. But you didn’t. You didn’t ask. You just took.” His face contorted. “And I could feel it! You were willing to let me die! That’s OK. I’m your Protector. That’s my job. But I could feel you! You didn’t even care!”

I should have realized we were on dangerous ground, but I wasn’t really listening. All I could see was the portion of the Grail’s power that I’d put into him. I feared it was too much for him to contain.

Or maybe I just want it back the way a junkie knows it wants the last fix that kills it.

I must have taken an involuntary step towards him because he yelled, “Stop!” Then he did something completely unexpected. Holding his hand out, palm up, Peter made a crushing motion with his fist and any sense of the fire I’d sent into him disappeared as if it had never even existed. It took a moment for the full meaning of what he’d done to hit me. Peter was my bonded Protector. The grailfire was threatening me, so he was given the ability to snuff it out. I’d never guessed the true extent of a Protector’s power.

He’s perfect.

The moment the thought crossed my mind, it crossed our bond too, and I knew he heard it. The expression on his face changed to one of disgust. I knew he could feel what I was just beginning to realize—that I would never be able to resist the temptation to use him again, not even at the risk of his life, not even if he tried to resist me. It was inevitable that I would eventually turn our love and friendship into an abomination. He was my Protector and I would damn us both; I would have no choice.

But I can atone for my sins.

“Peter,” I whispered.

He shook his head furiously, denying me, but I wasn’t trying to apologize.

I was saying goodbye.

His eye’s widened in alarm as I sent the Grail’s power up our bond again, but this time, I held tight to the end of it. For a moment, the magic between us took actual substance in the air as a fine green rope. Then it caught fire. I let the fury and grief over everything I was about to lose feed the flames until the bond between us burned away. There was a flare of searing pain in my chest as the last of it disintegrated near my heart, and then I was cold.

I hoped he understood what I’d done to save us both, but now I had no way of knowing. He stared at me, a stranger, and then turned and walked back up the path into the darkness.

He was going home.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CRIMSON

“That was brave.” Arthur was standing with Tynan a few feet away, watching me warily.

I couldn’t help but warm at the unexpected praise. “You know what I did?”

He nodded. “My sense of the earth magic is different from yours, but I could tell when some of it left you and went into Peter. He destroyed it somehow and you released him from his bond. I hope you haven’t made an enemy of the boy. The Protector magic is strong in him. He has the potential to become a great warrior. Hope also that you never have to face him in battle.”

“I had to do it. It saved me for the moment, but because of what I am, I won’t be able to stop myself from taking more power. Merlin told me how to use a vessel I’m linked to as a kind of battery to store what I can’t contain in my own body. I can’t un-know that, and I can’t risk giving in to the temptation to use Peter like that again. I won’t do that to him.”

Tynan shook his head. “We’ve got to get you back to the Grail then and put its fire where it belongs.”

When a tear rolled over my lips, I was surprised there was any moisture left in my body at all. I wanted Thomas Redcap to come and make me feel safe the way he used to, but the man was gone and the redcap hadn’t deigned to come and claim Bel’s body.

I suppose a second rate fire demon is beneath him. Or maybe he’s not bound by any rules at all now.

Taking a quivering breath, I was shocked at how cold the air was in comparison to my still too warm lungs. “We can’t. It’s gone. Daley took it.”

“Melusine,” Tynan guessed.

“Yup.”

Arthur’s face was grave, but I could tell that he was focused on something other than the loss of an earth talisman; he’d experienced that before. “Don’t worry, my son, I’ll find your foster brother and retrieve the Grail. It’s your birthright. It’s of no use to your poor mother, but if you choose to let Daley bring his lost love back, I won’t object.”

Wait a second. What do you mean Tynan’s birthright?

I forced my voice to remain deferential. “I’ll find the Grail, my lord. It called to me before. I’m sure I can find it again.” And then I would have to decide whether to let Daley bring back Melusine or not.

Arthur was shaking his head. He seemed saddened by something, but I could also sense a hardened resolve—the edges of his aura were almost crystalline. “I’m sorry, Rhiannon, but you will not be leaving this place alive.”

Tynan’s head whipped around to stare at his father. “But . . .”

The king held up his hand and Tynan fell silent. “Though you were partly in his realm, I could still perceive the content of your conversation with Merlin.” My father had said that Arthur would be able to see him. “I realize you’re not to blame for what’s been done to you, and I pity you, but I cannot let you free Merlin from his prison.”

Sudden fear burrowed into my gut like white maggots. “I won’t then. I’ll find a way to fix things.”

Arthur sighed as if my protest pained him. “I heard him lay the geas on you! You no longer have any choice in the matter. You will either die here or die when you fail him, but you won’t be allowed to free him.” His voice became soft, but its persuasive power only increased, seeking to convince me that this was the only possible course of action. “There are no words to express the depths of my sorrow that your young life should be ended. You are Guinevere’s daughter. I can see her in you. Whatever my failings as her husband, I would never choose to harm her or anything belonging to her. If I could spare you, I would, but this is what it means to be a king—to make the hard decisions, the sacrifices that no one else can.”

He lifted Excalibur, so much larger and deadlier in his hand. “You will not find your mother. You will not release Merlin. You will die here this night so that countless others may live in peace. I promise you it will be quick and that your story will never be forgotten.”

And that was that. A king had declared my death sentence. And he was my king, I knew it. There was no denying it. A vibration moving up through the ground into my bones seemed to declare it—that Arthur of Camelot was the rightful Earth King again. I could only bow my head and receive my fate.

“Let me do it, Father.” I looked up in shock as Tynan’s voice betrayed his eagerness to prove himself to the man he’d once betrayed. Arthur hesitated, perhaps remembering the time his own son drove Excalibur into his heart, but then nodded. As Arthur handed the sword to Tynan, my calm acceptance shattered.

Hell to the no.

Taking a step back, I kept my gaze fixed on Tynan. “Don’t do this, Ty. We can figure it out. There has to be another way.”

But though he’d kept the name, the Tynan I once knew was gone. I’d known it for a long time. Mordred was a young man of confused emotions and wavering loyalties who was easily led. He’d been persuaded by Merlin’s lies to kill his own father. It had taken much less than that to be convinced to kill me.

Tynan tossed his hair back from his face, never again endearingly shy, never again needing to hide. When he raised Excalibur, the sword was smaller, but thinner and sharper. Even its bright gold aura was darkened along the edges. “No, father is right. This is the only way. There’s more at stake here than your life or mine. War pits brother against brother, and sister against sister.” The side of his mouth quirked up into a sad half-smile. “Cousin against cousin. This is war. You’re the enemy. You didn’t ask for any of this, but neither did I. It’s just  . . .”—he paused as if searching for the right word—“collateral damage.”

As he approached, I backed away, trying not to trip on Bel’s remains or get too close to Arthur. If I could make it out from under the bridge, I might be able to run into the brush up the side of the ravine. It was dark. I could lose him there.

Tynan seemed to guess what I intended to do and circled around me, blocking the way. “C’mon, Ty,” I pleaded, “this is crazy! It’s murder!”

“A soldier obeys his king and is clean of any sin while doing his duty.”

I forced a harsh, derisive laugh. “Really? A soldier obeys his king? That didn’t stop you from sliding Excalibur into a king’s heart before!”

Flinching from the truth in my words, Tynan hesitated and lowered the sword. I made a break for it past him and into the open. Running flat out as fast as I could along the pathway, I had to skid to a stop, tripping and skinning my knees through the thin fabric of my gown when Tynan appeared in front of me.

Out of thin air.

“I can’t believe that worked!” He was grinning as if it were the proudest moment of his life and he wanted to share it with me. “I wasn’t sure it would! I’ve been practicing, but I didn’t know if I could do it under pressure. I’ve always been able to sense the Paths, but when I heard you talk about how you saw magic, how different that was from how anyone else experienced it, it made me wonder if the reason I kept failing was because I was trying to conform to old ideas. You’re unique. I thought maybe I was too. So instead of trying to find and walk Paths, I tried making one!”

It’s not possible.

Concentrating, I could see the essence of his sparkling, multi-colored power flying away as if it had broken apart from a single point. His next words confirmed my suspicion. “I can’t hold it for long, but if I focus on where I want to go and it’s not too far, I can create a Path to take me there.”

He’s a flippin’ teleporter.

Tynan was still smiling when he thrust Excalibur in the direction of my heart.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CRIMSON

I should have been skewered. Instead, the strike that was meant for my heart sliced through my sleeve to the skin on my upper arm. Fire and blood leaked from the wound, but a quick glance told me it was only shallow. Through my sense of its almost-sentience, I knew Excalibur had saved me, but the earth talisman was deeply conflicted. It didn’t want to hurt me, but Tynan was an heir to earth magic too.

And he knows how to use a sword.

When Tynan struck again, I had to roll away and onto my feet to avoid the blade coming down on my neck. Arthur was right; the scars on my wrists were proof that Excalibur was willing to let me die no matter how conflicted it might be. Maybe it would have mercy on me and just send me into endless sleep.

Hell to the no, no, NO!

I called fire into my hand—rage at almost getting my head lopped off by my own sword made it ridiculously easy. Illuminated by the flames, Tynan’s grin was a madman’s and his aura was chaos. This fight wouldn’t end until one of us was in the ground. I flicked my wrist and sent a stream of grailfire flying in Tynan’s direction.

He disappeared.

And reappeared to my left, swinging his arm in a wild arc. A cut across my thigh, a bit deeper this time; Excalibur was still playing with me. Hissing in pain as I threw myself away from a second blow, I fell off the pathway and tumbled down the bank of the stream, breaking through a thin layer of ice into the water. I hit the bottom with my shoulder and then rebounded, gasping at the cold. The stream was only a couple of feet deep, but the wet gown had twisted around my legs like sodden rope. Pulling at it, trying to free myself so I could stand, I looked around frantically for Tynan.

A slight ripple in the fabric of reality accompanied by a flash of multi-colored sparks were the only warnings I got. He jumped from one of his Paths, crashing through the ice into the stream, but keeping his feet under him. I finally managed to stand and we circled one another warily. The leather on one of the sleeves of his jacket was charred and cracking; I’d hit him with grailfire.  It must have only been a glancing blow, but it gave me courage and I stopped moving and faced him.

The world went blank for a moment when he disappeared, and then Tynan began darting in and out of the air around me until I was almost overwhelmed by the continuous flow of creation and destruction in the pattern of magic. All I could do was keep throwing flames around myself to keep him from getting too close. My existence became a black sky intermittently blasted with light. Still, Excalibur kept breaching my defenses until several thin cuts crisscrossed my shoulders and forearms, cauterized almost immediately by flame. The sword hadn’t got a killing blow past the power of the Grail, but it was only a matter of time. If I’d never realized it before, I knew now that Excalibur was the master of all other talismans.

Teeth chattering, tripping over my numb feet, I was becoming exhausted. If I lost control over the grailfire in my hands, it would all be over quickly.

There was a sparkle of chaos. The sword arced through the air, passing mere inches in front of my face as I threw myself backwards into the water, catching myself with my hands on the stony bottom. The grailfire went out, and though I tried, I couldn’t master it anymore. Teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, my heart was beating like it wanted to claw its way out of my chest.

As Tynan and I stared at each another, I could see he was as worn out as I was. Breathing heavily, his skin was white and his dark hair was plastered with sweat against his cheeks. Creating a Path, even a temporary one, had to require an almost unbelievable amount of energy.

“I really am sorry, Rhi,” he said as he waded towards me through the water. There was no hurry now that I was helpless. As he loomed over me with Excalibur, his features softened. “Now that we’ve reached the end, it’s important to me that you know that I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you.” He reached down with his other hand and moved a strand of wet hair out of my eyes. “But you couldn’t see me. You could see Daley, and even the redcap, but never me. Don’t you understand that it was just like what Viviane did to you? You made me invisible.”

But while I knew that Redcap loved me, and hoped that someday Daley might, I didn’t believe Tynan’s declaration of love. There was something incomplete about him, something wrong. Like the earth, he was out of balance.

“Is that why you’re doing this? To punish me for not loving you? Will it make you feel better when you cut off my head?” Pushing with my heels, I scraped myself a few inches farther back along the bottom of the stream but stopped when he pointed Excalibur at my throat.

Tynan was shaking his head sadly. “It’s not that. If I could, I’d let you live. But I understand something you don’t.”

“And what’s that? That you’re nothing but a cold-blooded murderer?”

A shadow crossed his face. “I’m not . . . that. I was never that. All I’ve ever wanted was to do what was right. I’m a prince. I understand what that means. It’s my duty to protect my king and my king’s people. I never wanted to hurt anyone.”

Excalibur’s point lowered and I pressed my advantage. “So that makes it OK to kill me? Makes it OK for a son to kill his father?”

“I was deceived, but my motives were pure. I promise they’re pure now too.” As the young man who was once called Mordred lifted the sword to strike my head from my shoulders, Excalibur sang to me in gold of its own regret. It would remain neutral—it wouldn’t choose between two heirs—but the sword was still a sword in the hands of someone who knew how to use one.

Promise me you won’t send me into endless sleep.

But the earth talisman made no such promise.

As the blade descended, it seemed to me to move in slow motion. Too desperate to worry about accidentally slicing my fingers off if I misjudged the distance, I reached out to stop it.

The jarring impact pushed me against the bottom of the stream, but I came back out sputtering, propped up on one hand while my other encircled Tynan’s grip on the hilt. The tip of one finger had managed to touch the metal. In contact now with both heirs, I could feel the sword struggle in the same way it must have when Tynan tried to kill Arthur. Then, however, the sword had already rejected the king. We, as heirs, were equals.

A vein bulged in Tynan’s temple as he tried to press forward, but we were locked in position. I felt my slight advantage as the one to quicken Excalibur in its latest incarnation, but Tynan was stronger. Eventually the sword would yield.

When it kills me, will it shatter the way it did before?

I hope so.

I was pushed back onto my elbows. The water was up to my neck. Tynan shoved harder and the water was lapping the sides of my face. I slipped under for a second but then arched my back and found air again.

As we struggled, a black shadow closed in on me, obscuring my vision.  I couldn’t see Tynan anymore. There was only the unrelenting force on my arm as he pushed Excalibur towards my throat, and the pounding of my heart like an ancient drum calling to war.

My heart was pounding.

Our heart is pounding.

As my finger slipped off the hilt, my arm began to buckle under Tynan’s weight. “Stop, Ty! Don’t make me do this. Don’t make me a monster!”

Too eager to regain Arthur’s trust, Tynan had forgotten what we shared. The space in his chest where his heart once beat was now filled with a spell born from desperation and magic. A spell I made. A spell which obeyed my command. I unraveled it like a kitten with a ball of yarn and then snipped the thread between us.

There is magic everywhere if you know where to look. The world is filled with it. It is, at its purest, simply life. Destroy the magic and you destroy the life. As Tynan’s limp body fell on top of me, knocking the breath out of my lungs and sending me to the bottom of the stream, I froze in the small death of winter.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CRIMSON

Rhiannon. Wake now.

Viviane used to get me up for school with those simple words, repeated exactly the same every morning.

You must wake now.

Opening my eyes, I panicked as I realized something heavy was on top of me, weighting me down on the bottom of the stream. Thrashing, I tried to move but failed. Above the surface, the light of the moon illuminated someone with long, dark hair standing over me. I opened my mouth to scream and it filled with water.

Mom!

The figure bent towards me, removing the weight from my chest and then heaving me upright. I gulped in precious air as the memory of the last few moments flooded into me.

As Excalibur slipped from his limp hand, Tynan’s body bobbed up to the surface. I floundered through the water and broken ice to get away from it. I couldn’t bear to look at it. Clawing my way out, I collapsed face down on the snowy ground, mimicking the floating corpse.

“Oh, Mom! I didn’t want to do it! He didn’t give me any choice!” Shivering, I began to sob; shuddering breaths which wracked my body with pain, gasping as an answering pain shot through my temples before I could block my awareness of it. Magic had reawakened the corruption within me, but the adrenalin of the fight had masked it for a while. “I can’t bear this anymore,” I moaned.

I’d been washed clean of all my anger towards Viviane—Mom—I just wanted her to take me home.

“Mother couldn’t come. The Lady of the Lake is bound to her place until what is broken is made one.” I looked up. It wasn’t Viviane who’d rescued me. It was the creature who’d been transformed into L'Inconnue de la Seine. She looked different. Before, she’d looked like a drowned girl. Now her hair and clothing were long and flowing in imitation of Viviane’s. Her eyes were open and aware, and her lips were no longer fixed in a smile of death.

Wiping my tears from my face, I struggled to my feet. “How did you know?”

As the L’Inconnue shrugged, her whole body seemed to ripple. “The Lady may reside in the lake, but as her followers grow, so too does her power. Once you stepped in the stream, she was aware of your plight and commanded me to go to you.” She lifted her chin proudly. “I am not bound but may travel where I will through any water of the world.”

I focused on something the creature had said. “What followers?”

“Mother is very busy with her other children. All the mermaids, nixies, and water sprites are gathering to her.”

“For What?”

When she smiled, her teeth were small and pointed like a pike’s. “For war.” Reaching down into the water, she retrieved Excalibur and held it out to me.

Lady of the Lake 2.0.

I managed to teeter on the edge and take the sword without stepping back into the water. Tynan’s body drifted too close.

“Arthurrrrrrr.” L'Inconnue de la Seine said his name on a long, drawn-out breath as she dissolved into droplets of water raining down on the stream.

The king was behind me.

Yellow warning was swamped by sorrow the color of a lake of tears and I couldn’t move, but he ignored me as he waded into the stream and pulled the body out of it. Dropping to his knees, he pulled his son into his arms, rocking him and cradling him cheek to cheek the way he must have when Tynan was a little boy.

Tynan’s lifeless eyes gazed at me from the king’s embrace.

The Earth King didn’t cry out the way he had when Morgan le Fay died. His silence now was more terrible. I could feel his emotions—feel that in many ways, he blamed himself. The lights of the city beyond peeked through the trees, but they dimmed and wavered as Arthur’s pain and regret filled the world.

The lights of New York went dark.

When Arthur looked at me, his face shone in the golden glow emitting from the sword in my hand. I felt Excalibur mourn with him. He gently lowered Tynan to the ground, and as he stood, grief coalesced into dark menace. Taking a step back, I lifted the sword.

He pulled out a gun.

Never bring a sword to a gun fight.

Arthur didn’t speak. His was a king’s judgement, holy and justified. He might not be used to modern weapons, but a bullet would still find me at this range.

A gust of hot air blew debris into my eyes and I was momentarily blinded. Panicking, I swung the sword in front of me

Careful, little Earth Queen.

Dewi?

I’d completely forgotten about the Red Dragon. When I rubbed the grit out of my eyes, I saw that it had landed in between myself and the king. The dragon opened its mouth, revealing teeth like jagged rubies, and its voice was the roar of an inferno.

There will be peace between the king and the heir. The earth demands it.

No sound echoed through the park. The voice was in my mind, but by the way Arthur flinched, I knew he could hear it too.

While two heirs walked the earth, I could not intervene. I am only one aspect of the earth magic. It was not in me to choose.

“I am the Earth King and I will choose my own heir!” Arthur thundered. “She killed my son!”

The Red Dragon’s head darted forward until he and Arthur were almost nose to nose, Steam curled from the creature’s nostrils, but the king didn’t move. The gun was still aimed at my heart.

The girl’s right comes through her mother. Guinevere’s line is older and deeper than yours, Earth King.

Arthur turned his head to stare at me as he comprehended the dragon’s meaning. He’d never realized the true value of the girl he’d married, thinking her only a child, a necessary evil of a political alliance. If only he’d loved her and they’d had a baby together, none of the terrible things that followed would ever have happened. Tynan would never have died because he would never have been born. Arthur would never have been cast into centuries of sleep. The earth would have continued to anoint kings or queens in a long line of succession up till the present.

How different the world might be now.

But the world had been fractured and the connection to the earth magic had been lost.

Arthur looked back at the dragon as he lowered the gun. “So you would prevent me from avenging my son’s death?”

The dragon lifted its head proudly.

I am not a mere construct of metal meant to capture and contain the earth’s power. Excalibur may command all the other talismans, but I am an element personified. I am the fire of the earth! I care nothing for the death of one child. It is the earth I serve and all the many beings that live and die on it as they should. Your son was a hollow vessel ever willing to be filled by the purposes of others. It was not his fault. He was formed from incomplete materials.

The Red Dragon swung its massive head around to look at me with eyes swirling with magma.

Child of Blood, the earth is out of balance! Where you fall, it falls with you. Mend what was broken and make all that was divided into one.

Arthur holstered his gun, but his bark of laughter was grim. “Because the earth demands it, I will spare your life, girl. Dewi has named you as my heir, but mark my words well, the moment you betray the earth by releasing its enemy, the magic will reject you. You’ll no longer be my heir and my hand against you won’t be stayed. The choice is yours.” Instead of being dimmed by sorrow, his amethyst majesty blazed. Dismissing me, Arthur returned to his son. He pulled Tynan into his arms and buried his face in Tynan’s dark hair.

If Redcap was lurking somewhere in the darkness, ready to capture what was left of the boy for eternity, I couldn’t see him.

Ride, little Earth Queen.

The Red Dragon leaned down for me to mount but I hesitated and looked back. “I would have followed you, Arthur. I would have followed you if things had been different. I would have been honored to, but neither of you gave me a choice.”

The only answer was Tynan’s dead eyes staring at me accusingly.

Still gripping Excalibur, I climbed onto the Red Dragon’s back. We were in the air when Arthur finally responded.

“Beware the day we meet again, daughter of Merlin.”

EPILOGUE

ASH

I wasn’t surprised when I heard a sound behind me like laundry flapping on a clothesline. Closing my eyes, I let it take me back to a warm Saturday morning, only half-remembered from when I was a child. Peter’s mom was hanging sheets on the line behind her house and Viviane was planting geraniums in the garden. I was safe and happy.

“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” Miko had landed close. Her voice was soft, but there was a hint of defiance in it.

With a sigh of regret, I released the memory of warmth and sunshine and returned to the cold winter of the present. I glanced at Chloe, but she either didn’t realize what Miko was now or wasn’t overly concerned about it. Probably the latter. She was right to be calm; neither of us was Miko’s prey.

“I know you didn’t,” I answered finally without turning. I continued to stare at the place Morgause’s message had brought us to.

The Red Dragon had landed on a street just outside Central Park. After I’d clambered off, it flew away without another word.  As I walked back to the Waldorf Astoria, the lights came on; New York City’s New Year’s Day blackout had ended, probably because Arthur had taken his son’s body away with him through a Path. Chloe was waiting for me in the lobby. After supplying me with fresh clothing from the hotel’s boutique, the concierge had led us down to Track 61 where the Path Guide with the southern accent was waiting for us.

Given that Chloe couldn’t tell him where we were going without divulging the message, we then spent a frustrating half-day crisscrossing the country while the Guide tried to guess through a process of deduction. Chloe had finally nodded yes when he put us on a Path that exited at Montpelier, Vermont. Once there, we were apparently close enough for her to finally divulge the message:

Green Mount Cemetery. John E. Hubbard.

At the rental car office in town, the attendant had known the cemetery well. He’d even known where John Hubbard was buried and had proceeded to direct us to several other graves of interest to tourists. I’d started to wonder if Morgause’s message was some sort of sick joke.

As I stared at the impressive monument, I understood. Three steps led to a stone slab with John E. Hubbard carved in raised letters at the bottom. At the other end sat a magnificent bronze statue of a young man swathed in billowing cloth. His head was thrown back and to the side as if sleeping, or reposed in death. Curved walls flanking the statue had the lines of a poem cut into them:

THOU GO NOT LIKE THE

QUARRY SLAVE AT NIGHT

SCOURGED TO HIS DUNGEON

BUT SUSTAINED AND SOOTHED

BY AN UNFALTERING TRUST

APPROACH THY GRAVE

LIKE ONE WHO WRAPS

THE DRAPERY OF HIS COUCH

ABOUT HIM AND LIES DOWN

TO PLEASANT DREAM.

Miko drifted to my side on translucent wings, a dark mist seen out of the corner of the eye. I pointed at the tomb. “Can you tell me what it really says?” I could sense the sparkling colors of a glamour spell, but didn’t dare touch them and risk taking any more magic into myself.

Reaching out with her black-tipped hands towards the tomb, the dark fairy pulled them back in a graceful motion, as if slipping off a veil.  The words in the stone wavered and rearranged. Now they simply said:

HERE LIES MY GWEN. SHE DIED TOO SOON.

MAY 1ST, 1902.

I’d found my mother.

According to the historically knowledgeable rental guy, Hubbard was a controversial businessman who’d died a bachelor in 1899. Thumbing his nose at a town that had rejected him, he’d left explicit instructions for an extravagant memorial that was finally installed in 1902, the same date as the inscription. I wondered if he was the one who’d called her his Gwen, or if someone else had used the monument to conceal her body. I wondered how she’d died. I wondered if she’d found peace after Arthur and Merlin.

I wonder if she’ll hate me for disturbing that peace.

We’d all assumed that Guinevere had travelled on the Path of Time to a point at least somewhat comparable to mine and Viviane’s. Instead, she’d hidden herself in my history so that even if Merlin did find her, he would never find me. She hadn’t accounted for my own power calling to him, like to like.

I knew Miko was staring at me, but the black-haired, white-skinned figure in my peripheral vision was too alien for me to look at directly yet. Still, she seemed to read my intentions on my face. “You’re going to bring her back.”

I stroked the pink apple in the pocket of my jacket from the Waldorf, no longer repelled by its unnatural smoothness. “I didn’t think I’d have to. Now I don’t have a choice. Merlin will kill me otherwise.” Guinevere had lost herself in Time to give me the chance to escape my father and now I was going to throw her sacrifice away. Grey despair was swallowed up in flame, reminding me there was a limit to how long I could contain the grailfire.

I don’t have a choice.

“You’re going to need the Grail.”

“I don’t have it. Daley does.”

“What are you going to do then? There’s only enough water left to bring one person back from death. Maybe he’s used it on Melusine already.”

I shook my head. “I talked to Taliesin. Goodfellow has forbidden any Guide to take Daley on a Path. It will give me some time to catch up.”

“Ah.” The exhalation of Miko’s breath was like dead leaves rustling through an alleyway. “He needs Melusine’s ashes. After she died, a woman came to take them away. I believe it was her grandmother. Taliesin must know where.”

“Scotland. She took them to Scotland.”

A gust of air blew my hair across my face. Miko hovered over the bronze statue before lowering herself to sit on its lap, back to its chest, mimicking its posture. She was forcing me to look at what she’d become—beautiful and cold, otherworldly and deadly.

“And what will you do when you find him? He won’t give the Grail up. Not if there’s a chance of bringing Melusine back.”

When I didn’t answer, the silence was broken by a delicate cough—Chloe. “Um, Rhi, if you can’t say it, you probably can’t do it.” The girl’s hair had been blown into blonde tangles around her smooth cheeks. My only ally left was hardly more than a child.

“I’ll take it. If I have to, I’ll take it.”

The Messenger nodded as if she believed me. “Morgause gave me another message the first day I was brought into her service. She didn’t tell me who it was for, or when I was supposed to give it, but that I’d know what to do when the time came.”

“And you think the message is for me?”

She hesitated. “I think so. The Seer told you her plea would come to you through one that was hers. I was hers, but it’s time for me to stop being the Messenger.”

Miko had drifted into the air, moving restlessly around us, but I kept my attention on Chloe. “Go on then.”

“Morgause told me that when the time was right, I was to say, ‘Mend what was broken and make all that was divided into one.’”

The Red Dragon’s words. A sense of sadness the soft blue of moth wings rose in me only to also be burned away. “I’m sorry, I really am, but you’ve made a mistake.”

The girl blinked. “How do you know?”

I thought of Tynan’s face, white in death. I thought of how I’d betrayed my best friend. I thought of my father’s taunt to prove him wrong that I wasn’t exactly like him.

I thought of the bones Chloe and Bel had brought back from New Orleans—the bones of three powerful witches. Chloe had taken them from Morgause’s condo, but she’d given them to me when I told her about Bel. The girl was dry-eyed, but she’d shoved the box into my hands as if it contained a nest of snakes and told me the story of how Bel had obtained them. Thanks to Lacey McInnis, one was missing, but I would find a way to use them. Excalibur and the Grail were my birthright through the woman buried under the stone in front of me. I would take the Grail back by force if I had to, even if Daley tried to stop me.

The silver of hope was a lie. After what I’d done to Tynan, I knew Daley and I were over. I just hoped he wouldn’t get in my way.

Because I want to live.

I forced myself to look straight up into Miko’s eyes and to not look away, even when I saw that they were black from edge to edge. Ebony veins spread out from them like a lace mask, pulsing with her latest feed. The truth of what she was had become visible for all to see. It was time for me to embrace the same honesty.

Unclasping the charm bracelet, Daley’s gift, I tossed it at the feet of the bronze statue of Death like an offering and gave Chloe her answer. “I know because I’m a monster.”

And for the first time, the thought didn’t bother me.

READ ON FOR AN EXCERPT FROM

SEALED IN SILVER

Coming June 2016

Go to the next book in this special boxed set to find out how Bel came to have the bones of three witches in TO MAKE A WITCH

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AN EXCERPT FROM SEALED IN SILVER

ASH AND FLAME

Outside the cemetery, a car was waiting across the road.

“That’s my ride,” Chloe said.

I stared at her. “What?”

“I called my dad to come get me while you were talking to the car rental guy. We actually don’t live too far from here. Coincidences, huh?”

“You’re going?” I was hollowed out by pale blue and dove grey, surprised at how bereft I felt that she was leaving me.

“It’s nothing personal. I just want to go home.” Looking down, long hair falling over her cheeks, Chloe scuffed at the dirt with her toe. A sharp pang filled with darker colors went through me as the movement reminded me of Tynan.

She should get as far away from me as she can.

I pulled the former Messenger into a hug, but she held herself stiff; we barely knew one another and my display of emotion was awkward. Pulling away, she tucked her hair behind her ears. “OK, bye then.”

“Bye. Take care of yourself.”

Rolling her eyes like any ordinary, normal preteen, Chloe walked over to the car and said a few words to her father through the open window. Even from across the road, I could tell he was anxious to get her away from my kind; the kind that had taken her from him in the first place.

She started to walk around the vehicle to the passenger side but then hesitated. Turning, she looked at me and shrugged. “You know, he was a pain in the ass, but I kinda miss Bel.”

And then she smiled and I knew Chloe would never be just an ordinary girl.

As the car drove away, Miko drifted out through the archway that marked the entrance to the cemetery. “You’re sad. Do you want me to make her come back?”

When I didn’t answer, she wafted around to hover in front of me. As I searched the dark fairy’s face for any remnant of the girl who was once my friend, I saw that mixed through the lace-like pattern of ebony veins were silver marks—the scars from the knife an ex-boyfriend had cut her with. Miko had always hidden them with glamour. Seeing them now only reinforced how truly alien she had become.

“Go away, Miko.”

The dark fairy obeyed, spreading her wings and ascending until she disappeared into the clouds. I had no idea where she would go. Maybe she would just drift around all day, feeding on fairies and slowly thinning the population of supermodels in the world.

I looked back up the hill at Guinevere’s resting place. The weak sunlight sparkled on something bright and I imagined it was the silver bracelet that Daley had given me, and that I’d left on my mother’s tomb. It was the symbol of another tie I’d severed between myself and the world.

“I’ll be back, Mother,” I whispered. “I’ll free you from Death and you’ll hate me for it.”

I almost expected one, but there was no answer. The cemetery was empty. I was alone with flame and ash.

There was no use lingering among the dead. I had to get the Grail back and return its fire before I was burned out, and I needed the last of its life-giving water to resurrect Guinevere. Daley had taken the Grail to Scotland to find Melusine’s ashes and bring her back to life, but I couldn’t let that happen. Goodfellow had promised that none of his Guides would transport Daley on a Path. Daley would need to travel by plane and that would give me time to catch up.

Getting into the rental car, I checked on my phone for directions to the nearest mall and then texted Goodfellow the address. I would pick up some clothes more appropriate for winter in Britain and the Green Man would meet me there and put me on a Path.

A pretty little town nestled at the base of rolling hills, Montpelier was the state capitol, but the only mall was quite small. Still, I managed to find a pair of sturdy boots, a winter coat, a leather jacket, and an assortment of tops and jeans plus all the other necessaries. A large sports bag held everything. I’d also bought a smaller one with some interior padding to hold the bones of the three witches.

I hadn’t told Taliesin about the bones. I hadn’t told him a lot of things. There wasn’t much else to say after letting him know that one son had stolen the Grail and that I’d killed the other. The phone had gone dead and I’d thought he’d hung up, but then Goodfellow was on the line. When I gave him the whole story of everything that had happened since we left Las Vegas, there was no condemnation in the Green Man’s voice. There was something worse.

Fear.

Now Goodfellow was late. He’d muttered something about there being some problem with the Path at Taliesin’s, but I hadn’t really paid attention. Uneasy at the delay, I sat down on a bench beside a young woman feeding crackers to a toddler in a stroller. As the minutes wore on, irritation became hot anger. I tried to distract myself with a newspaper someone had discarded, but my skin was crawling with impatience. Taking deep breaths to slow my racing heart only reminded me there was no longer an answering echo to its beating. Crimson rage and grey despair flared high in equal measure.

Why did you make me have to do it? Why did you make me kill you?

Unable to bear my own thoughts, I jumped to my feet, searching frantically for any sign of Goodfellow. The young mother looked up in curiosity while her son batted at her hand for more crackers.

As my hands began to shake uncontrollably, the grailfire roiled through my gut, uncoiling tendrils of flame into my limbs, and slipping through my defenses into my mind. The amount I’d siphoned into Peter had made what was left manageable, but only barely.

Only if I didn’t arouse it with rage.

“Don’t I have a right to be angry? I didn’t ask to be what I am! I didn’t ask for fire!” I realized I was yelling out loud when the toddler started to cry. People were staring at me. It only inflamed me more.

“What are you looking at?” I screamed at an elderly man who was leaning on his walker, shaking his head.

A heavily muscled man wearing a blue shirt emblazoned with a mall security badge approached me cautiously. “OK. Calm down. I think it’s time for you go home now. You don’t want any trouble.”

Heat was crackling along my nerves, making me want to tear off my skin to release it. “Stay away from me!”

The mall cop lost patience. “That’s it! Come with me, Miss.” As he put his hand on my arm, the grailfire did what it was created to do—it attacked. Fire flew from my hands into the man, hollowing him out from within into ash. His eyes flared once and then darkened, smoke curling from them as he dropped to the ground like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

The people in the crowd began to run screaming. The toddler’s wailing was a siren in my mind. Clamping my hands over my ears, I screwed my eyes shut, but I could still see them—still see every living being as a collection of thoughts, emotions, and even latent powers. It was all color. And what I could see, I could use. I understood Merlin finally. There they were all around me—fat little batteries outlined in color, waiting for me take their power.

Or store what I couldn’t contain.

The searing tempest began to build again and I could feel the exquisite pain of small points of flame dancing along the exposed skin of my arms. No Earth King or Queen was ever meant to hold this much. Only Dewi, the Red Dragon, could actually be the embodiment of the element of fire.

The child was closest and easiest to fill. I sent some of the grailfire into him. It travelled along the bond between them into his mother. The child held out longer than she did. One after another they fell—the old man, a tired sales clerk, the middle-aged woman going through the accounts in the back room of a shoe store—after the first dozen, their individual identities blurred. As each one failed, the Grail’s power rebounded back into me with incredible force until I thought my brain would explode with the agony of it.

Someone with untapped abilities manage to stabilize it for a moment. The woman’s aura held traces of cool green and watery blue; a small portion of mermaid blood ran through her veins. She’d instinctively dampened the grailfire, soothing its wrath. For a moment, hope surged through me, but then she faltered and the power took her too.

She was the last one.

The grailfire spun around my heart, claiming it as its prize. I was the Earth Queen. When I erupted into a conflagration of power, I would take the world with me. Binnorie, Redcap, the Mari Lwyd, and the Red Dragon screamed at me, blending into one voice filled with agony.

Have mercy on us, Child of Blood! Have pity on us, O thou Destroyer of Worlds! The earth is out of balance! Where you fall, it falls with you!

But my mercy had been burned away. The mall was empty of anything else I could use. I needed to look elsewhere.

I opened my senses to the world.

A hand on my shoulder shook me and I awoke with a gasp, surprised to find Goodfellow staring down at me with a strange expression on his face.

I straightened up out of the slumped position I’d fallen into and ran a hand through my hair. “Sorry. I must have fallen asleep. What took you so long?”

But Goodfellow didn’t answer. Swallowing hard, his eyes darted around as if they didn’t dare rest on any sight too long. I was just about to ask what was wrong when a small, still form partially hidden under the bench caught my attention. An overturned stroller lay beside it, wheels spinning.

Frozen with white horror, it took almost impossible force to look up and around.

The floor of the mall was littered with bodies.

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Read on for TO MAKE A WITCH

TO MAKE A WITCH

A Sword of Elements Novel

Heather Hamilton-Senter

Two Paths Publishing

ONTARIO, CANADA

Copyright © 2014 by Heather Hamilton-Senter

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

Two Paths Publishing

www.twopathspublishing.com

Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

Book Layout © 2014 BookDesignTemplates.com

Cover Design © 2014 BookCoverArtistry.com

Two Make A Witch/ Heather Hamilton-Senter. -- 1st ed.

978-0-9938225-3-7

Head cheerleader and top of her class at her old school, Lacey McInnis had ended up on the wrong side of a conflict between ancient gods. Looking to make a fresh start at an exclusive boarding school in New Orleans, she’s also hoping to forget she was once this close to becoming a powerful witch—that is, before her mentor the Crone had her head chopped off, and before her high school nemesis turned out to be the hero of the whole thing. Which meant that Lacey had actually been one of the bad guys.

When the tomb of a Voodoo Queen is desecrated and a gruesome murder is committed in the very heart of Westover Academy, Lacey realizes she could be next on the killer’s list. Ironically, fate may once again make Lacey McInnis—a good girl gone bad then good again—a witch.

.

The spells in this book are taken from passages in several pieces of ancient Celtic literature, including Llyfr Taliesin (The Book of Taliesin) and The Lament of the Old Woman of Beare.

The events of this book take place between the events of BOUND IN BLUE and CAUGHT IN CRIMSON.

CONTENTS

ST. LOUIS CEMETERY NO. 1

AN ARRIVAL

AN INVITATION

A CHANGE

AN EXPLANATION

A MESSAGE

A TASK

A DISCOVERY

A DEATH

AN ALLIANCE

A DEAL

A CONFRONTATION

AN UNDERSTANDING

A DECISION

A BEGINNING

Kilkeel, Maine

PROLOGUE

ST. LOUIS CEMETERY NO. 1

On December 17th, 2013, in St. Louis Cemetery No. 1, a vandal painted the tomb of Marie Laveau, the legendary Voodoo Queen of New Orleans, bright pink. It was thought that the perpetrator’s intent was to cover the marks that had been scratched into the brick and plaster tomb by tourists over the years. Decades before, a rumor had spread that if someone wanted the spirit of the great Marie Laveau to grant a wish, they were to leave an offering, draw three Xs on the tomb, turn three times, and then yell out the wish.

This story takes place just after that act of vandalism.

CHAPTER ONE

AN ARRIVAL

This air is alive with witches . . .

― Conrad Potter Aiken

As I smoothed the quilt down over the bed, I counted in my head—one, two, three—and resisted the urge to run my hands over the flat surface one more time. Taking a deep breath, I stepped away and slipped out of my nightgown, folding it neatly and putting it under my pillow.

I am Lacey Ann McInnis, I reminded myself, and I am in control.

I examined my surroundings as I got dressed. The wood panels lining the bottom half of the walls gave the somewhat cramped room a feeling of warmth, and the desk under the window allowed enough room for one comfortable chair. Across from the bed, two narrow closets were separated by a small mirror and vanity. My brief exploration the night before had already found the shared bathroom at the end of the hall with its rows of showers, stalls, and swan-necked faucets swooping over ceramic sinks veined with cracks. All in all, I liked what I’d seen thus far.

The only negative was that I’d been assigned a double room. My roommate hadn’t turned up yet, but an alarming quantity of personal effects, including three tennis rackets, were strewn across the desk, bed, and floor, though they did manage to keep to their side of an imaginary line down the middle of the room. Still, it was an effort to stop myself from tidying it all up, and I made a mental note to request a single room when I met with the headmistress.

Pulling out my makeup bag from my purse, I began my routine: moisturizer, some concealer to knock down the bit of redness around my nose, a shimmer of eye shadow, a dusting of power, and a slick of neutral lipstick. Unlike most dirty blondes, my eyebrows and eyelashes were naturally black, so I left them alone. I’d showered before going to bed so three quick brush strokes restored the bounce to my hair.

I checked myself out in the mirror and smoothed the pleats of the skirt over my hips, happy to feel some of my curves returning. I wasn’t back up to my normal weight yet, but I felt physically stronger than I had in weeks. Last to go on was the close-fitting blazer with its red and gold crest resting directly over my heart. I surveyed my reflection with satisfaction. As the head cheerleader at my old school, I was used to uniforms, but Westover Academy’s was a step up from the gold and black sweater and skirt set which always reminded me of a bumblebee.

Armed and ready, I crossed over to the window and pushed back the curtains to check the weather. The sky was grey, but even after the many hour’s drive from the Canadian border to New Orleans—the view outside the car changing as if time was slowly winding back from winter to spring—I still wasn’t used to the sight of green leaves and grass in December. There might be a bite in the air at night, but I would probably only need a light jacket even at winter’s worst.

“Hello!” A tall girl with pixie-cut black hair burst into the room. She stared at me for a moment and then flashed a smile that made her somewhat strong features light up. Lean and clear-eyed, she could have walked straight out of a Hemingway novel. “They told me I was getting a roomie, but I didn’t expect you until the new term started.” She threw a sports bag onto her bed. “I thought I’d be the only one stuck here over Christmas break. When did you get in?”

“Late last night. I’m Lacey. Lacey McInnis,” I added.

“Ava Brady.” She smiled again, all dazzling white teeth framed by tanned skin. “Canada, right?”

I nodded, surprised.

“My parents own a lodge in Stowe. It’s swamped by Canadians once the leaves start to turn color, so I recognized your accent.” She jerked her chin towards the view outside the window. “I bet you’re not missing the snow. I know I’m not. You’d think growing up in a ski town that I’d love it, but I wouldn’t care if I never saw snow ever again.”

Smiling politely, I passed my fingers over the small tattoo on my left wrist. The slightly raised edges were warm, which meant the spell was still suppressing the natural charm and glamour of my lorelei heritage. I relaxed. My roommate was obviously just naturally friendly. I’d always enjoyed being popular, but discovering it was only the by-product of being descended from a magical creature had burst that bubble. The suppressing spell was the first one I asked my mentor the Crone to teach me. I wanted to know who admired me only because of the magic—most of the student body, as it turned out. After the Crone was murdered, all the spells I’d mastered as her apprentice failed, and the tattoos associated with them disappeared from my skin. This one was the last vestige of my few brief weeks as a witch.

I gestured to the bed. “How come you didn’t sleep here last night?”

Ava grimaced. “The Aged Parents decided to do the whole family bonding thing before they went on their annual cruise. It leaves from Florida so they ever so graciously decided to take a side trip to see me. I was at their hotel downtown, but they kicked off this morning.” She plumped up her pillows against the headboard and hopped onto the bed. Twirling a tennis racket in her hands, Ava looked like she couldn’t care less that her parents had ditched her on the holidays

She stopped abruptly and looked at me intently. “What about you? What did you do to deserve being dumped here?”

I shrugged as I sat on the edge of my bed, careful not to wrinkle the sheets I’d just smoothed. “My mom and dad only have a few days off work over the holidays. We drove down and had Christmas dinner at a restaurant. They dropped me off last night and then headed back.”

“Hmmm,” Ava grunted. “Do you play?” She brandished the racket in the air.

“Not very well.” That was an understatement. The first and only time I tried, I was so bad and showed so little possibility of any improvement that I never dared to try again.

“Damn. There isn’t a girl at this school capable of giving me a decent game. Tennis is the whole reason I’m down here letting the humidity ruin my hair.” She ran her hand over her sleek hair as if she were soothing a small animal that might bolt at any moment. “Westover’s program is top notch, but I need some real competition to keep me on my toes.”

Ava continued to expand on her plans to go to an Ivy League school on a tennis scholarship, but I was barely listening. There was a hum in the walls as if the plantation-style building had suddenly awakened and become expectant and alert.

My cell phone rang and I picked it up off the desk. “Hello?”

“Miss McInnis?”

“Speaking.”

“This is Ms. Dalton. I just heard that you’d arrived. Would you be able to come over to my office in Stradford Hall?” It was the school’s headmistress. After agreeing to meet her in fifteen minutes, I disconnected the call, and the strange tension dissipated like an exhalation.

Ava half-heartedly offered to join me, but I declined, assuring her I could find my way. Before I’d even left the room, she was already burrowed into a blanket fast asleep.

Stradford Hall was the second building over from the student residence. It stood at the end of the circular driveway, stone steps leading up to broad columns framing double doors with brass handles. As I pulled one open, surprised at its weight, I already knew what I would find from my obsessive study of the information packet the school had sent me in the mail. The first floor was taken up by the administrative offices, the dining room, and the kitchen. The second floor held a small assembly hall. Larger meetings were held in a separate building at the edge of the property which housed a good-sized theater. I’d studied the pictures online, allowing myself just the smallest trickle of excitement. The Crone had made me give up being involved in most of my normal activities, including being in the school musical. Hopefully coming in halfway through the year wouldn’t leave me out of any upcoming productions Westover Academy might have planned.

As the door closed behind me with a dull thud, I looked around with interest. Confused and unsure as to why I’d chosen to leave home—leave them—Mom and Dad had delayed driving me over to the school until it was too dark to see much of anything of the grounds or the buildings. A security guard had met us at the gate and helped to bring my bags up to my room, and then there’d been tears and a flurried goodbye when my parents left.

Across the spacious foyer with its elegant furnishings was another set of double doors with equally ornate handles. A small sign to the right of them indicated that this was the dining hall. Pulling the door open a couple of inches, I peeked inside. Wood tables and benches sat in orderly rows, shining in the light streaming in from tall, arched windows along the back wall. The scene was less like reality and more like something you would see in a movie. The guard had told me there was no staff present over the holidays—except for them and a small cleaning crew—so I would have to make my own meals from the supplies provided. I was looking forward to it.

I closed the door carefully. Two wide hallways branched off the foyer in opposite directions. The right one had a small sign with Kitchen and Security written in gold, and the left said Offices. My shoes clicked as I stepped off the carpet and onto the wood floor and headed down the left hall, passing paneled doors with brass knobs, and framed prints and paintings in the spaces between. A small print hanging crooked caught my eye and I couldn’t stop myself from pausing to straighten it, but my fingers hesitated on the frame as I realized what I was looking at.

A shiver went down my spine. The black and white engraving depicted a robed woman pointing at a ghostly being while a group of bearded men cowered at her feet. In spidery lettering at the bottom of the print was the title: The Witch of Endor by Doré.

I knew the story from Sunday school. King Saul of Israel had made the Witch of Endor summon the spirit of the prophet Samuel to seek his advice in battle. Instead, the prophet had foretold the king’s defeat and death.

Something hard settled into the back of my throat as I forced myself to pull my hands away and hold them tightly clenched at my sides, but I couldn’t stop looking at the image. The witch was beautiful and carelessly powerful. She had been the instrument of a king’s despair and then had disappeared from the narrative, untouched by the wars of men.

With all my heart, I wanted to be her.

There was a sudden flurry of clicks—the sound of someone typing on a keyboard—and the mesmerizing effect was broken. I turned and continued toward the open door at the end of the hall and into a comfortable reception area where I waited for a young woman working on a computer to notice me. One side of her desk was piled with student files and I guessed she was the Miss Claire Benoit, Administrative Assistant whose name was at the bottom of most of the paperwork and emails I’d received from Westover during my last minute application. As she frowned at something on her screen, I admired her cappuccino complexion and cascade of dark curls. When she looked up with a frown, the deep line between her eyebrows was the only flaw on her smooth skin.

I responded with a smile which was friendly, but not ingratiating or obsequious. I used to know every shade of meaning available in a smile, and when the woman relaxed and smiled back, I knew I hadn’t lost my touch.

“Sorry, chère, I didn’t hear you come in. You must be our new student. I was just working on your file right now.” She gestured gracefully to the half-open door behind her. “Headmistress Dalton is waiting for you.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t forget to pick up your class schedule when the headmistress is done with you. It’ll be on my desk if I’m not here.” I nodded and moved to go past her, but she interrupted me. “Oh, and Lacey?”

Yes?”

Miss Benoit’s lips twitched slightly. “You don’t need to wear your uniform outside of school hours except at official school events.”

Heat flooded my face, but I smiled and nodded again as I went into the main office. The woman waiting for me was slim with stylishly cut but dull brown hair, and dressed in an expensive looking suit. She immediately reminded me of Cailleach, but where the Crone had seemed ancient and ageless all at once, Headmistress Elisha Dalton looked young but seemed older. A portrait of her hanging on the wall showed a remarkable likeness, even though the brushstrokes were somewhat impressionistic, and there was a power in it that drew the eye.

“Hello, Lacey.” Leaning over her desk, she shook my hand and I tried not to pull away until she released me. Her skin was cool and dry and her grasp was steady and light, but I’d become overly sensitive to physical contact; the Crone’s touch had more often brought pain than it had comfort.

“Hi.” I glanced at the painting again, noting how its colors had captured that same impression of coolness and calm. The headmistress noted the direction of my gaze. “Miss Benoit is not only an excellent assistant, but a very talented artist as well. I have to admit though that it sometimes makes me uncomfortable to have my own face staring at me all day long,” The woman’s voice held only a hint of the languid drawl of a native Louisianan, marking her as fellow transplant to New Orleans “I didn’t expect you to show up so soon, Lacey. When security let me know you’d checked in last night, I cut short my vacation to meet you.

My cheeks went hot. “I’m so sorry. I should have realized everyone would be on holiday.”

She waved her hand. “I was rattling around the house with my cat looking for something to do. Besides, you’re not the only student on campus I should probably be keeping my eye on. You’ve met your roommate already?”

“Just now. She seems nice.”

The headmistress’ lips quirked into a smile. “Yes, Ava’s a nice girl. Hopefully you’ll last longer than her other dorm mates have.” I was surprised by the comment. The girl had seemed pleasant enough. “Just let me know if you have any problems with her. There are some other rooms empty.”

It was what I’d wanted—a room to myself—but I felt a perverse desire to be contrary, to not be what everyone expected me to be. I could guess at what Ms. Dalton saw when she looked at me—a naïve child used to trading on her prettiness to get what she wanted as she coasted through life on a pleasant cloud. The woman only saw the sugar and cream on top and couldn’t guess at the darkness and bitterness underneath.

“I’m sure we’ll get along fine,” I said, putting on my most convincing smile. The suppression spell in the tattoo on my wrist burned slightly as it tried to counteract my exertion of charm.

But I was surprised when the woman frowned in response instead. “Why exactly are you here, Lacey? Why Westover Academy? You’re a long way from home. We almost never accept new students halfway through the school year, but Miss Benoit convinced me that you would be an asset to the school, so I agreed.”

I twitched down the cuffs on my blazer, playing for time. I certainly couldn’t tell her I’d mined my contacts on the darknet for a recommendation on a school in North America that might be witch friendly. Of course, that was when I was still anxious to pursue my studies, but the longer I was away from magic, the more I felt like I was turning back into the person I used to be. I’d persuaded my parents to fund my last semester of high school at this outrageously expensive institution and hoped I hadn’t drained their savings account for nothing. Still, it was better than going back to my old school where I’d made such a mess of things.

I was once a good girl, but then I became a witch.

Tilting my head, I laughed lightly, a sound that paired nicely with the particular smile I was now displaying. “And I’m so glad you did! I love it here already. I can’t wait until classes start up again.” The headmistress was staring at my hands and I realized I was winding a strand of hair around my finger—three times one way, then three times the other. Untangling my fingers from my hair, I forced my hands to my sides.

Ms. Dalton returned my smile, but her eyes were shrewd. “Was there trouble then? Something that wouldn’t show up on your permanent record? You were sick for a long time—mononucleosis, if I remember correctly.”

A chill settled on my skin as I remembered the days of starving and bleeding myself for the sake of magic. “I guess I just became a little out of sync with everyone when I missed so much school.” I thought about what Ava had said about the weather. “My parents also thought a warmer climate might be better for my health, Headmistress.”

The woman stared at me for a moment before nodding. “I’m sure it will. Well, Lacey, your grades are excellent and I have no doubt you’ll fit in fine here. And you can call me Ms. Dalton or Dean Dalton. Miss Benoit disagrees, but Headmistress is a bit too Dickensian for my taste.” From her tone, I knew I was dismissed.

“Thank you, Ms. Dalton,” I said as I stood and walked to the door.

“Lacey.”

I turned. “Yes, Ms. Dalton?”

She looked at me intently. “I lost someone too, long ago, back when I was living up North. My daughter . . .” She took a breath. “My daughter was murdered.”

Shocked at the revelation, I murmured, “I’m so sorry,” but the woman continued as if she hadn’t heard me.

“I was lost for a very long time. I did things out of grief that I dearly regret now, but eventually the pain got easier to endure. Since then, I’ve made it my mission to protect and guide other young women. It may not feel like it right now, but the darkness of loss can sometimes lead us to a greater light.” As if on cue, a ray of sunlight streamed through the window and I caught the hint of something bright and reflective on her skin—a silver flourish just above her collar bone that might be mistaken for a faint scar.

When I didn’t respond, Ms. Dalton sighed. “The guidance counselor at Eastdale Collegiate added a note about your brother’s death, and also about the changes to your behavior over the past few months. He believed it was a delayed reaction to the tragedy your family suffered, but I know the signs of a suffering and addiction of another kind, particularly wherever the Crone is present.”

I went hot and cold all at the same time. The woman shifted in the light and the mark of silver tattoos became clearer. I knew what it meant, but I’d lost my ability to trust along with my innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She sighed again and nodded. “I understand. No one here will force you to reveal yourself, Lacey. This is a safe place, a place where you can put the past behind you.”

I chose a stupid and uncomprehending smile. “Thanks, but like you said, it’s all in my file. I’m fine now. I appreciate your concern though.” I walked out the door, certain the pounding of my heart matched me step for step like a drum.

It took every ounce of willpower I possessed, but I didn’t run. I didn’t count the diamonds in the pattern on the carpet in the foyer, or straighten the lopsided Christmas decorations draped across the mantle of the fireplace. I walked out of Stradford Hall and stepped on every crack in the path leading to the residence, even though each crunch of my heel against the concrete sent a spike of ice up my spine.

When I made it to the safety of my room, I was grateful to find that Ava had finished her nap and gone out. As I lay down on the bed, I counted to three over and over until the old compulsions faded and I could think clearly again.

The silver marks on Ms. Dalton’s skin had been almost invisible, but maybe that didn’t necessarily mean the power behind them had faded too. The Crone had taught me that the price of witchcraft was to be marked by it, but I never guessed there might be different symbols than the twisted black ones which once ran along my arms and across my shoulders.

Restless, I went to the closet and pulled out the battered leather bag tucked in the corner. I knew I shouldn’t be so surprised that a school recommended by an online coven would turn out to be run by a witch, but had the knowledge of what the Crone and I had done—or tried to do—already traveled this far, this fast?

Taking the golden harp out of the bag, I cradled it in my arms. The harp of Binnorie had been given to me by my greatest enemy and was the second of my most precious possessions. The harp was able to uncover hidden things, even hidden truths. That was what I’d been told. After it rejected its previous guardian, the voice of the drowned girl Binnorie had sung my name and that was enough for me. We belonged to one another now, but after that first moment of communion, the harp had been silent and empty of magic.

I placed my fingers lightly on the strings. I’d taken piano lessons for years and could probably have managed to shape a tune, but I didn’t dare. The harp would sing when it was ready and not before. “Is the headmistress a friend or foe?” I asked.

“Are you?” I thought I heard the harp respond, but I knew it was just my imagination. Disappointed, I put it away and turned instead to my greatest treasure. Reverently retrieving the old scrapbook and laying it carefully on the bed, I sat down beside it and turned to the first page of photographs.

A little boy stared back at me. He had dark blond hair the same as mine, blue eyes just like mine, even a snub nose exactly the same. He was wearing an orange lifejacket and pointing at the water, his hair too long because none of us could bear to get it cut in case he lost his babyhood too soon with it. The boy in the picture had just turned six and was on holiday with his family at the beach. The sand was pale beige and the sky was azure.

Unshed tears burned the back of my eyes. That day at the beach, I was twelve to his six; old enough to be a protector, young enough to be a playmate. Tracing my finger down the image of the boy’s face, I imagined I could feel the smoothness of his cheek.

But it was only the smoothness of paper and fading ink. Closing the book, I held it to my chest tightly. My brother Stephen would never play on another beach after that day. The chaos called cancer would rise up and swallow him before he could even reach Christmas. After that, I would begin to perform actions in threes and scrub my hands until the cuticles of my fingers were always cracked and red.

“What would you think about what I’ve done?” I whispered, but I knew there would be no answer to that question, and I was glad, fiercely glad. I put the scrapbook back into the darkness of the closet and closed the door.

Frozen forever at six, Stephen would never know what I’d done to become a witch. He would never know that I was anything else but the big sister who loved him.

CHAPTER TWO

AN INVITATION

Ava was gone for hours. I was still full from the dinner my anxious parents had pressed on me the night before—and the Christmas treats they’d filled my suitcase with—so I spent the rest of the day unpacking, setting up my laptop, and arranging enough personal items around the room to make it feel a bit more like home. I even did some laundry in the facilities down the hall. The only sour note was that I couldn’t find an iron and had to content myself with pressing my shirts with my palms until they were as smooth as I could make them.

When Ava finally returned, I was curled up in the chair with a book. Plotting world domination with an ancient witch and her master hadn’t left much time for reading and I had a whole stack of novels I couldn’t wait to plow through.

“Hey, miss me?” She tossed her bag across the floor and didn’t seem to mind when it missed the bed and spilled out gym shoes and a wet bathing suit onto the floor. “You should have come over to the gym. It’s the building between us and Stradford. The facilities are pretty good. I thought security would have locked up the pool, but it was open. It was nice to have it all to myself. Whatcha reading?”

I passed her my book, but she took one look at the cover and gave it back. “Love’s Pure Heart—it sounds churchy. If I have to read fiction, it’s got to at least have heaving breasts and throbbing you know whats. You get the picture.”

I laughed. “Vividly.”

Ava started stripping.  I could feel my cheeks go warm, but she was staring at me so directly that I couldn’t look away. “Seriously though, is that your thing? Are you, like, really religious or something?”

I started to nod and then stopped myself. “I used to be. Maybe I still am, but I’m not sure how welcome I’d be at church.” I paused. “I’m coming off a bit of a wild phase.” The understatement of the year.

Ava was now rummaging through her closet completely naked except for a lace thong, making me wonder if this was one of the reasons her roommates bolted. The girl didn’t have a spot of cellulite on her thighs and was so lean that the muscles and bones of her back looked drawn on her skin in shades of tan and gold.

I was a little jealous. My flirtation with anorexia—not to mention exsanguination for the Crone’s blood enchantments—had been brought on by an obsessive pursuit of magic. Even now, I was still almost as skinny as Ava, but I’d always been happy with my shape even when it carried five or ten extra pounds of baby fat. What I envied was the strength of Ava’s legs and the flexibility of her long spine. Sometimes I felt so brittle, I thought I might break.

Rhi was just like Ava.

The first time I really noticed Rhiannon Lynne was a few months after Stephen died. My mind had been on a loop, endlessly replaying my brother’s last breaths before he passed away in his own bed surrounded by toy dinosaurs. It wasn’t until I went into his room a few days later and lined them all up three by three, smallest to largest, that my mind could finally rest. But my rituals weren’t my only coping mechanism. I’d crushed on Peter Larsen for years, but after Stephen died, that feeling deepened to love and Peter became the sun I orbited. We went to the same church and I believed it was a spiritual witness that he and I were destined to be together.

But then I saw Rhi, really saw her, and in a cruel irony, it happened at my church. The youth class had just let out and all of us were milling around in the foyer, putting on coats, and waiting for our parents. I was hovering near Peter. I don’t remember what we talked about. I do remember we were laughing. He brushed my arm once with his hand. It seemed accidental, but I knew, the way a girl does, that it was on purpose.

Suddenly, his head jerked up as if he’d been pulled by a string and he turned towards the front doors. Snow swirled outside, but through the glass, I could see a girl with long legs and wild hair the color of hot chocolate and melted caramels. It waved around her in the wind, mingling with the black hair of the woman beside her. They stood at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the building as if they didn’t dare step on church property. Peter ran out to them, throwing snow at the girl and chasing her down the parking lot. The woman followed behind slowly. I was forgotten.

It took me a long time to understand that there was nothing romantic between Peter and Rhi. It didn’t help at all. I could see it in his face when he looked at her. I could see it even when he fell in love with someone else. Rhi was everything to Peter. She came first.

“But they can’t, right?”

I looked up and discovered Ava was now fully clothed in black jeans, a white shirt with rolled up sleeves, and copper hoops in her ears. An eggplant-colored hobo bag was slung over one shoulder, and an acid green coat hung off the other. Somehow, it all worked.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“They can’t keep you from going to church, no matter what you’ve done, right?”

“I suppose so,” I murmured once I recalled what we’d been talking about.

“Then it’s a question of how comfortable you’d feel there I guess.”

“I guess.”

The girl flashed the wide smile that took her face from interesting to arresting in an instant. “So there’s nothing stopping you from a little sin and depravity New Orleans style, is there.” It was a statement, not a question.

“I guess not.”

Grabbing the book out of my hands, she tossed it across the room. “Then why aren’t you dressed yet, girl?”

There was something about the air in New Orleans—fragrant, spicy, slightly rotten—that was both repellent and intoxicating. It was the only explanation for why I was huddled with Ava against the side of the residence while we waited for the security guard to finish his rounds. The instructions in my orientation packet had made it very clear that students were not to leave the premises at night without clearing it first with Miss Benoit and checking in with security. I’d wanted to do just that, but Ava had assured me that Benoit would never give permission, and she’d gone home for the night anyway.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” I hissed. Breaking curfew could get me kicked out of school. I didn’t know if the same rules applied during the holiday break, but I didn’t want to find out.

I wasn’t insensible to the irony that I was more worried about getting kicked out of this school than I’d been about releasing monsters at the Halloween dance at my old one. But that was when I belonged to the Crone and her mind was my mind, almost literally. I was her vessel and any spell I mastered made her stronger. She’d promised to give me some of that power when my service to her was finished, but had her head cut off before she could keep that promise.

“Don’t be such a sissy or I’m going to assume you’re lying about being such a bad girl at your old school.” Ava’s teeth showed white in the darkness.

I shrank back into the shadows as the headlights of a car filtered through the gaps in the trees and shrubs lining the fence. “How are we even going to get out? The gate must be locked by now.”

“How sad, oh ye of little faith—very inappropriate this time of year, by the way.” She jerked her head. “Follow me.”

As the guard disappeared around the opposite side of the building, Ava darted out, but instead of heading down the drive toward the front gate, she disappeared into the shrubbery.

“What are you doing?” I hissed.

A strong hand with long, tapered fingers encircled my wrist and pulled me into the bushes.

“Careful!” I used my free hand to protect my face as Ava drew me into the small space between the plantings and the wrought iron fence.

Leaning in close, she put her hands on my shoulders. “This is a secret that has been passed down from senior class to senior class for fifty years. You must swear to never reveal it to outsiders or to anyone who is not a senior.”

“Ava . . .”

“Swear it!” she insisted, completely serious.

“I swear.” As I repeated the words two more times in my mind, there was a brief sensation of heat on my arm. Pulling away, I waited for a black mark to emerge, but the warmth faded and there was nothing.

Ava pushed on a section of rusty fence and it bent outward, creating enough space to squeeze through. In one sinuous movement, she was out. Following, I regretted my decision to wear a full-skirted, slightly retro dress, a cropped leather jacket with a zipped pocket for my wallet, and high-heeled boots—I hadn’t anticipated an exit via shrubbery. Thankfully, I only snagged my jacket once and otherwise made it through unscathed. Out in the open, I hesitated, but Ava put her hand in the center of my back and propelled me down the street.

“No second thoughts. We’re on holiday!”

My parents and I had stayed in a suburban hotel off the expressway that catered to business travelers. The school was in the heart of the Garden District, but thus far, I hadn’t seen any more of New Orleans than an impression of light and life at the end of the darkened streets. I was surprised to realize I was excited to get a better look at it. Surprise and excitement were among the many emotions which had been leeched away by the Crone’s training, but apparently I was more resilient than I’d feared.

My heart beat a little bit faster as I turned in a circle to take it all in. Directly across from the school and stretching down the road were southern mansions of flaking white paint, pink stucco, and black wrought iron. They were romantic, decadent, and so different from the sensible brick houses I grew up with. Walking backwards, I nearly tripped when the modern concrete of the sidewalk transitioned abruptly to aged and broken stone arranged in a herringbone pattern.

Ava glanced at my high-heeled boots and grimaced. “We can go up a block to St. Charles and get the streetcar to Canal, but we’ll still have to walk a bit. Can you make it in those?”

I bit my tongue and counted to three to prevent myself from snapping that I’d been wearing heels since I was nine and this wasn’t my first time off the farm. “I’m fine. Where are we going? Bourbon Street?” It was the only place I knew in the city—a knowledge based strictly on movies and TV shows.

“Hell no! Not unless you fancy wading through urine and vomit while pushing past strippers. I know a place just off the French Quarter where we can get some dinner. Then we can see where the night takes us after that.”

I felt giddy and reckless. “Let’s go then!”

The streetcar ran regularly into the night and we arrived at the stop just in time to catch it. The slatted wood seats made me wish for more of my lost padding to return, but the historic St. Charles Avenue streetcar was vintage New Orleans and worth it. Still, after a fifteen minute ride, I was glad to get off and stretch my legs as we walked the block up to Chartres St. and into The Crescent Bar and Kitchen where the hostess directed us to a table beside a stone fireplace. Part late-night bar, part hipster eatery, The Crescent was a comfortable mix of cozy and trendy.

I settled into a vinyl bucket seat. “I’m surprised they’re still serving food this late.”

Ava tossed me a menu. “Sure. They serve until around four in the morning.”

I stared at her. “You’re kidding.”

She grinned. “They’ll still card you though, in case you’re wondering.”

Annoyed with myself that I’d let her surprise me, I shrugged casually. “I don’t drink.” Ava raised her eyebrows but didn’t comment. As a slightly harried looking waitress approached carrying two glasses of ice water, I scanned the menu. “So what’s good?”

“Try some real New Orleans food. Get the red beans and rice or the gumbo.”

I took her advice and ordered the gumbo while Ava chose something called a meatloaf sandwich. As we waited for our food, Ava declared that she needed to rest her eyes and slumped down in the chair, apparently napping again. The girl was definitely a little odd, but I didn’t mind the silence.

I was happily people watching when a young man entered the restaurant and immediately captured my attention. As he walked over to the bar, he passed by so close that the disturbed air was almost a touch against my arm and my skin tingled. I watched him as he sat on a stool and ordered a drink, laughing at something the bartender said. When my breath caught in my throat with an audible gasp, he turned and the light of the simmering fire awoke bright sparks in his blond hair.

He looked just like Peter.

His eyes met mine and I could almost imagine that Peter had come to find me, had forgiven me, had finally realized I was his. Looking away, I sipped my ice water, but the knot of pain in my throat made it difficult to swallow. The truth was that Peter was gone. He was in Las Vegas with Rhi and the other Protectors who followed Taliesin the Bard. Not a single one of them would be sad if I dropped off the face of the earth, and I couldn’t really blame them.

Peter wasn’t coming for me. He would never be coming for me.

“What’s wrong? You look like you’re going to cry.” Ava seemed to be part cat; capable of dozing off for a minute and then emerging immediately awake and recharged.

I finally managed to swallow and forced myself to smile a perfect, careless smile. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

But I still couldn’t take my eyes off the young man at the bar. It wasn’t until he slipped off his stool and came towards us that I realized I was still smiling my fake smile directly at him. It must have looked to him like a blatant invitation. I let my gaze wander away, but he wasn’t deterred.

“Hey, I’ve seen you here before, haven’t I?” The words were directed at Ava in a soft drawl, but he was looking at me.

“Probably. I come here all the time. You’re a local?”

That was all the opening he needed and he sat down in one of the empty seats at our table. “Local enough. I grew up just outside of Baton Rouge. I’m Ethan, by the way.”

“Ava—Vermont. Lacey—Canada. We’re seniors at Westover.” Ava gestured languidly between us.

“Cold weather gals then.”

“The coldest,” Ava replied, but her laugh was husky.

Up close, Ethan didn’t look as much like Peter as I’d thought. He was shorter and his hair was more bronze than gold. As he continued to banter with Ava, I tuned them out and focused on the closest TV screen.

“It’s a cryin’ shame. They should string up whoever did that. As if it weren’t bad enough all the damage Katrina did to this city.”

The silence alerted me to the fact that Ethan’s comment was addressed to me. I widened my eyes as I turned my attention to him.

“Pardon?”

“The tomb—that’s what you were looking at, right?”

I was saved by Ava. “What tomb?”

“Marie Laveau’s tomb! Look, they’re still talking about it.”

The TV was on mute, but closed captioning ran across the bottom of the screen. It was a news report on the vandalism of the tomb of the notorious Voodoo Queen of New Orleans, Marie Laveau. An image of the structure filled the screen. Someone had painted it bright pink.

The waitress brought our food and Ava and Ethan kept up a conversation that I knew I participated in from the look on Ethan’s face when I spoke, but couldn’t for the life of me recall. There was something about the story of the vandalism of the tomb that had both intrigued and unsettled me, so when we finished eating and Ethan suggested taking a walk over to have a look, I agreed.

There was a bit of a bite in the air when we stepped out into the street, but it was nothing compared to what I was used to in December and it was easy to ignore. “How far is it?” I asked.

“Only ten minutes or so. It’s an easy walk.”

Ava was already striding down the street. “C’mon! I’ve been in New Orleans for three whole years and I’ve never once been to the grave of a Voodoo queen. It’s practically criminal!”

It was an easy walk, but I still felt a frisson of fear when the crowd thinned and we entered a rougher, less tourist-friendly neighborhood. It suddenly felt very reckless and dangerous to be out on the streets late at night with a young man who was hardly more than a stranger. I was almost glad when we arrived at the gates of St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 and discovered they were locked up tight.

Ava pouted. “Well that was a waste of time!”

Ethan’s smile was a little too self-satisfied. “Now, do you think I would bring you all the way up here without a plan in mind? Don’t despair, darlin’. I happen to know another way in.” The tattoo on my arm suddenly became warm.

As he disappeared around the corner, I held back and Ava looked at me in surprise. I shrugged. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. Maybe we should just head back.”

Ava threw her arms around my shoulder, nearly knocking the breath out of my lungs as her heavy bag thumped against my back. “McInnis, you need to live a little. Nothing bad’s going to happen.” She jerked her chin towards the road. “There’s a police station right over there. You said you were a wild child back home. Don’t wuss out on me now.”

She was right. I’d seen much worse than a spooky old cemetery. As long as the dead stayed dead—and without magical intervention, they usually did—there was nothing to fear here.

I felt myself grin, and for once, it was real and honest and spontaneous. “OK.” Following the direction Ethan had taken, we turned the corner onto Conti St. This street was darker, more secluded, and many of the houses had plastic over the windows and doors and seemed to be abandoned. Here, the white-washed wall that enclosed the cemetery revealed its true face of scarred and broken brick, and one section of it was about three feet shorter than the rest.

Ethan was waiting for us. Motioning for us to be quiet—perhaps the street was not quite as abandoned as it looked—he put one foot into a divot in the wall where the first layer of brick had completely broken away. With one hop, he leveraged himself onto the top. As he looked down at us, I wondered how I’d ever thought he looked anything like Peter at all. His hair and eyes were much darker and there was something heavy about the contours of his face. He was also older than I’d first thought. Hadn’t he told us he was a college student? Or had I just assumed that?

Oblivious, Ava grabbed Ethan’s hand and he hauled her up beside him. With a flash of white teeth gleaming in the light of the streetlamp, she slid down the sloping roof of the tomb on the other side and disappeared from sight.

CHAPTER THREE

A CHANGE

The mark on my arm was still warm, but I wasn’t aware of exerting any of my inherent magical charm. Even as I brushed my fingers against it, the warmth disappeared. My skin felt smooth, and I knew that this last spell and its accompanying mark had almost disappeared.

I took Ethan’s outstretched hand and shivered; it was cold from contact with the air-chilled brick. He pulled me up easily, but since I was so much shorter, he dropped to the ground first and grabbed me around the waist to lift me down. It was a strangely old-fashioned gesture you might imagine of a man lifting a young lady down from her carriage.

The moon was only a crescent, but the night was clear, and the streetlights surrounding the cemetery gave enough light to see by. Ava was already wandering down one of the laneways. White burial vaults lined every side like little houses on a city street.

Ava paused at a newer, pyramid structure. “I heard some actor built that for when he croaks.” She turned around. “Why is everything above ground?”

Ethan ran his hand over the crumbling plaster covering one particularly ancient specimen. “The cemetery dates back to the late 1700s when New Orleans was part French and part Spanish. The tombs reflect their tradition. And it’s the high water table too. You can’t have corpses rising to the surface every time it rains.” He lifted his arms dramatically. “It’s a city of the dead.” Dropping his arms, he grinned and gestured for us to follow. “C’mon, the Voodoo queen’s tomb is this way.”

Ava’s expression was bright with interest. “How come you know so much about this place?”

Ethan shrugged. “I’ve been here a few times, tagged along on a couple of tours.”

We turned right and Marie Laveau’s tomb was unmistakable in bubblegum pink paint. A simple, rectangular structure with a peaked roof and a white inset like a front door, it was surrounded by flowers, jewelry, and even food strewn on the ground.

Ava whistled. “The pictures didn’t do it justice. It’s not just pink—it’s pink. Why would anyone do something like this?”

I didn’t answer, but I knew. I could feel it. One, two, three—I counted in my mind. Even though the paint was fresh, a few new X’s in sets of three were scratched into the surface. When I brushed my fingers against them, I felt the scores of others buried beneath the paint. They should have hummed with power, but the desecration of pink had broken them.

Ethan tapped one of the new marks. “A rumor began back in the Thirties that if you make three X’s on the tomb and then turn around three times and speak your wish, Marie Laveau will grant it.”

One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two three. I forced myself to speak, trying to break the compulsion to make my own marks on the tomb. “Is that Voodoo?”

Ethan sniggered and something about the sound annoyed me enough to stop the counting loop in my mind. “No, just a local legend.”

But I could feel that while this explained some of the more recent marks, the oldest had been made with a purpose.

Grabbing my wrist, Ethan tugged me around to the right side of the structure. “Come see this.” I glanced at Ava, but she was kneeling and squinting at a small plaque on the tomb.

The reflected light of a streetlamp shone directly on the wall of the structure. With his free hand, Ethan pointed to a patch where the plaster was gone and brick showed through. He pushed on the exposed brick with his finger and a piece of it shifted.

When he smiled, he looked nothing at all like Peter. “You see, chère, I wasn’t exactly telling the whole truth. I actually spend a lot of time here. There’s always a tourist who’s wandered off or some kid sneaking in after dark on a dare. Easy pickings. I found the paint in the garage of a house down the street; it must have come from a little girl’s bedroom. The color didn’t matter. I just had to break the binding spells protecting the tomb.”

“Why?” I whispered.

He shrugged. “I don’t know why actually. It’s what the creature asked me to do. I never saw it clearly; it hid in the shadows.” He laughed and his accent deepened. “I didn’t care neither. The creature promised to protect me if I did what it asked.” He tapped the brick lightly and it moved again. “When I came back the next day, do you know what I found?”

Prolonged contact was proof that Ethan’s hand wasn’t just cold from the night air; it was a band of ice around my wrist. He leaned in close and his breath was sour against my face. “Or to be exact, what I didn’t find.”

Placing his hand flat against the bricks, he gave a push and several fell into the tomb, leaving an opening just big enough to put your upper body through. A foul smell emanated from it, but I wouldn’t give Ethan the satisfaction of seeing me gag.

He looked disappointed. “Don’t you get it? All the bones were missing—poor Marie Laveau and how many others of her kin she was mingled with—but their loss was my gain. I’ve got a nice little hidey-hole for my special friends when I’m done with them.” He smiled and his teeth were white and sharp in the pale light of the crescent moon. “After all, what good is a tomb if it’s empty?”

“Ava . . . ,” I moaned, sure that if I screamed, Ethan would pounce.

He ignored my cry. “The creature told me to keep an eye on that fancy school of yours—said I was to watch for a little blonde chit like you. It was just my luck when you two snuck out through the fence.”

I inched away as far as I could until my arm was extended straight. Searching desperately for any remaining magic, I played for time. “The creature must want me for something. You’ll make it angry if you hurt me.”

His glamour was all gone now. I could see clearly his full cheeks, olive skin, and thick, red lips. His hair was so black and glossy that it was almost blue, and the tips of his sharp canines touched his bottom lip. “Maybe. But promises are promises. Blood is blood. Besides, ‘a bird in the hand’ and all that.”

“Step away, you grey-souled bastard,” a British-accented voice commanded.

When Ethan’s grip loosened in surprise, I wrenched my arm away and ran to Ava. She stood and swore softly. “Damn. Security.”

But the man and young girl approaching us weren’t security guards. The man was tall and slender, with a shock of red hair, high cheekbones, and delicate, foxy features. The girl trailing behind him could only be twelve or thirteen at most. She had a pale, oval face and tattered blonde hair falling to her waist from under a black newsboy cap.

The girl folded her arms and sighed. “Don’t bother, Bel. We’re too late anyway. They’re gone.”

Ethan slunk in front of me like an animal guarding its kill. “These are my hunting grounds! Get out!”

The man looked at the girl and she shrugged. When he looked back, a small smile flitted across his lips. Extending his arm, he flicked his index finger at Ethan.

The young man who’d lured us to St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 to kill us and stuff our bodies into an empty tomb, burst into flames. He made no sound as he flared once and then disintegrated into ash, leaving nothing but charred bits of skin and a few sparks among the offerings to Marie Laveau.

Someone started screaming. It had to be Ava, because I hadn’t even cried when I saw my brother’s white face and the plastic T-rex clutched in his little, rigid hand.

Even over the screaming, I could hear the man comment drily, “I do hate vampires. They burn too quick.” He looked at me with narrowed eyes. “Be a good girl and shut up, won’t you?”

The screaming stopped, filling me with surprise. It was me, after all. It gave me a strange feeling of hope that I could still feel something after everything I’d seen and done.

But standing in the ashy remains of a serial killing vampire, I could also feel the pull of the world of magic—a world where I’d been on track to becoming a monster. A different kind of monster than Ethan, maybe, but still a monster. “No,” I whispered, clinging to the thought of salvation.

“No?” Bel replied, misunderstanding what I was denying. “You do realize your young man was planning to drain the blood from your nubile bodies and hide them inside that tomb?”

“An empty tomb,” the girl at his side reminded him.

He made an impatient gesture. “Yes, empty. I caught that the first time. I’m not deaf, you know.”

The girl shrugged. “I told you it would be. We should have gone to the head of the New Orleans coven as soon as we got here.”

The man smiled. “But then we wouldn’t have found these two pretties.” The girl rolled her eyes but didn’t respond.

I glanced at Ava. She was silent, staring, and her normally golden skin was ashy. She was in shock.

The man approached us languidly with one hand in his pocket, like a model on a runway rather than a decaying cemetery. Heat poured off him and a line of sweat sprang up across my shoulders and trickled down my back. When he lifted my chin with his finger, his touch burned, but there was something else beneath it—a pleasure that was both repellent and attractive. I jerked away. He was like the city, golden and corrupt, and the stinking tomb behind me was a reminder that both were equally dangerous.

“Bel,” the girl murmured, her tone neutral and her face expressionless, but the man backed away.

I felt the disturbance in the air rather than saw the blow. When my mind could comprehend what I was looking at, I realized the man was on the ground. Ava stood over him with her bag dangling from one hand; she’d knocked him out cold with a powerful backhand.

The blonde girl walked over and gave the man a nudge on the shoulder with her foot. He didn’t move. “Wow.” I couldn’t be sure, but she sounded amused.

The girl looked at me, but now that Ava had broken from her near-catatonic state, she was running and screaming my name for me to follow.

The girl’s eyes widened slightly, pale eyebrows lifting. “Lacey McInnis?”

I hesitated, wanting to demand how she knew my name, but Ava had already disappeared from sight. I had no hope of getting up the side of that tomb and over the wall without Ava’s greater height to help.

Even though the girl looked like she was about to say more, I couldn’t wait around to hear it. Turning, I careened wildly through the city of the dead.

CHAPTER FOUR

AN EXPLANATION

With Ava’s help, I clambered over the wall and out onto the street. We ran as if demons were on our heels until we reached Basin Street where we were able to catch a cab. Clutching her bag to her chest, Ava trembled in the back seat beside me, but wouldn’t say a word. When the cab dropped us off on the road to the side of the school, she stumbled out while I threw some bills at the driver.

“Ava, wait!” I cried, but she was already disappearing through the opening in the fence. I scrambled after her and through the vegetation, leaves brushing against the sore spot underneath my chin. I pushed through in time to find Ava vomiting violently onto the grass.

As I waited for her to finish, I picked up her discarded bag and was surprised to discover how heavy it really was. I looked inside. Jumbled with loose change, a wallet, and an impressive supply of cosmetics was a ten pound hand weight.

“I always carry it around.” Ava was rubbing her mouth and still shaking, but she looked a little better. “Passive weight training,” she added as she took the bag back and hung it on her shoulder.

“Good thing,” I replied, but Ava wasn’t listening. She was striding towards Stradford Hall.

Guessing what she intended to do, I caught up and grabbed her by the arm. “No, Ava.”

“We need to tell security to call the police! We need to tell them what happened!”

“We can’t.”

She shook me off, but I moved to block her. “What are you doing?” she screamed.

I glanced around nervously, hoping the guard on duty hadn’t heard. “Listen, I know you’re freaked out. So am I, but we can’t tell the police. Believe me, I wish we could. ”

“But . . .”

I called on the glamour of my lorelei heritage and there was no feeling of warmth on my wrist to protest—my last spell was truly gone. Pushing an unexpected surge of sadness aside, I focused on the terrified girl in front of me. “What are we going to tell them? That a vampire lured us to the cemetery to kill us? That a man flicked his finger and turned the vampire to ash? They’ll think we’re crazy or that it’s some kind of prank.”

Ava’s expression became uncertain. “How could Ethan be a vampire? Vampires aren’t real.” Her voice shook.

Taking her arm, I guided her towards the residence. “They’re real, but usually they just feed and let you go. They must have some sort of glamour magic as well because the only reason I agreed to go with Ethan was because I thought he looked like . . . someone I used to know. He didn’t, not really. Maybe the bars are where he goes to look for prey at night. Maybe we were just unlucky enough to attract his attention. He must have discovered a long time ago that the cover of the cemetery allowed him the privacy to do more than just feed.” I thought of how Ethan had lifted me down in that courtly, old-fashioned way. “A very long time ago, I think.”

The natural magic of my genetics was calming Ava down. She even looked like she actually believed me.

“Are we safe here?”

One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. I counted off my steps until I was sure I could reply in a steady voice. “Yes, we’re safe from vampires here.” I had no idea if it was true. The Crone had little interest in anything outside of witchcraft and saw all the other beings that lurked in the shadows on this side of the Wall as vermin. Vampires were supposedly not able to enter a home without permission, but what about a public building like a school?

But I was more worried about the man called Bel whose touch burned, and a girl who knew my name.

Less wobbly now, Ava pulled away. “OK then. Let’s go home. I just want to get into my bed and pretend the whole thing was a bad dream.”

We went to the back of the residence where Ava produced a key that opened a metal door—another Westover Academy Senior Class secret. It was the door to a utility room that collected the garbage bags thrown down the chute on each floor. Up a small flight of stairs and through another door, and we were in the hall that led to our room.

Once inside, Ava began brushing her teeth and gargling as if removing the last traces of vomit could bring the world back into order again. I couldn’t judge. I was scrubbing my hands in my own sink under water almost as hot as Bel’s touch. An itch in the back of my mind urged me to make the water hotter and hotter until I lost myself in pain. Worse than that, I couldn’t stop thinking about the small surgical knife at the bottom of my makeup bag.

“Again,” the Crone demanded.

I tried not to whimper. The Crone didn’t like it when I complained. I’d promised to obey under oaths that made me shudder to think of them, and I knew she would punish me and those I loved if I failed her.

But that wasn’t the only reason I was whimpering. Every time the Crone commanded me to slice the knife across my skin and spill my blood into the cup, she made me stop at two cuts. The pressure to complete my ritual was almost unbearable, but she wouldn’t allow me release. The very nature of my compulsions made me the ideal candidate to master certain types of magic, but the Crone demanded that I be that master, not a slave.

I wondered if she knew that when I was alone, I completed the third cut, deeper and longer than the others.

Turning off the tap, I dried my red, throbbing hands. I hadn’t cut myself since the night the Crone died, but I hadn’t got rid of the knife yet either. Folding the hand towel neatly into a small square, I forced myself to turn around.

Ava was sitting on her bed staring at me, her face shiny and her hair wet and spiky. “Explain,” she demanded.

Sighing, I sat down on my bed facing her and began. “To understand, you need to know about a girl I grew up with. Her name was Rhiannon Lynne, but everyone who could see her called her Rhi. The thing was, not everyone could see her, not really . . .”

When I finished the story of how I’d ended up on the wrong side of a fight between King Arthur awakened, Merlin who was also the Lord of the Grey Lands of Avalon, and Taliesin the warrior-bard who had sworn to protect mankind, Ava seemed to pass out more than fall asleep. I followed almost immediately after, but by the next morning, the girl had bounced back to normal and had acquired an insatiable curiosity about all things magical.

I was awakened by a hand shaking my shoulder. “So this Rhiannon you hate so much, she’s Merlin’s and Guinevere’s daughter brought through Time? And she remade Excalibur, like, the Excalibur?”

“Rhi,” I corrected automatically as I sat up, pushing the hair out of my bleary eyes. “And yes. I mean, no, I don’t hate her exactly, but yes, that’s what she did. I didn’t find out everything firsthand, but the Crone connected me with witches all over the world using the Darknet. News travels fast in the magical world. What time is it?”

She ignored my question. “And this Rhi basically threw you out of your own town?” The girl’s voice was indignant.

I turned the alarm clock on the desk so I could see the time; it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet. “She had her reasons. She only wanted me gone until she and Peter joined Taliesin in Nevada, but I decided I needed a more permanent change.”

“I can’t believe Peter would chase after that fairy slut Miko all the way to Las Vegas!”

I flopped back down onto the bed and suppressed a sigh. Ava seemed to have only two speeds: on and off. Now that she’d adjusted to the idea that magic existed, she’d transitioned into complete acceptance of everything I’d told her—and obviously I had to be the heroine of the story. I probably should have, but I couldn’t tell her I was actually one of the villains.

Maybe it was because I didn’t feel like one. It was true that Peter was blind to Miko’s real nature. It was also true that Rhi had her own agenda and couldn’t be trusted. The whispers all over the Darknet—even those surfacing onto the mainstream Internet—were that Rhi was a leanan sidhe. No one really knew what that meant, but the consensus among witches was that it was something old and monstrous.

If there are no heroes, how can those on the opposite side truly be villains?

I escaped that question and the rest of Ava’s by promising to answer everything I could, but only after I’d showered and had breakfast. She agreed and only tapped her foot and sighed a few times as she waited for me to belt a sweater over my denim skirt.

The morning air was moist, but mild. Stradford Hall had disappeared into fog, but I could see a black town car parked in front.

“I wonder who’s here.”

Ava shrugged. “It takes a lot of fundraising to keep a place like this going, even with the tuition they charge us. There’s always a politician or local celebrity being shown around by the dean.”

As we passed through the foyer into the dining hall, I noticed a security guard going through some paperwork inside one of the offices, but otherwise the building seemed quiet.

The entrance to the kitchen was behind the currently empty serving stations. Ava was already pulling down cereal boxes from one of the upper cupboards.

“Are there any baking supplies?”

The girl looked at me as if I had two heads. “How would I know?”

I rummaged through the kitchen until I found a cast iron pan and all the ingredients for pancakes. Baking was something my mom had showed me how to do before I was tall enough to reach the counter.  It didn’t take long to whip up a stack of pancakes. The fridge produced a bottle of syrup, but Ava refused to try anything that wasn’t pure Vermont maple and dropped a small slab of butter on top instead.

“So what should we do?” she asked between quick bites.

I shrugged. “Well, I didn’t expect the school to be so dead over the holidays. I even thought I would need to wear my uniform the whole time so I didn’t bring a lot of clothes, mostly skirts. I should probably pick up a couple of pairs of pants.”

Ava put down her fork and stared at me. “That’s not what I meant. I thought maybe we should go back to the cemetery.”

“Why?”

“If there were bodies in Marie Laveau’s tomb—recent ones—shouldn’t we do something? Let someone know? Somewhere in the city, people are waiting for their loved ones to come home, but they never will.” Her eyes were moist with tears.

Shame made my cheeks hot. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Maybe we could call the police and leave an anonymous message about the hole in the tomb, say that we saw something inside.”

“That’s a good idea.” The girl was energized again. Pulling out her smart phone from the back pocket of her jeans, she searched online for the police tips number and began dialing.

Claire Benoit appeared in the doorway to the dining hall. “Miss McInnis, could you come to the office please?” Her hair was coiled in a high bun and she wore extravagant, dangling earrings; she looked like she’d been headed somewhere much more exciting than the school. “Just leave the plates. I’ll get someone from the cleaning staff to take care of them.” As she walked away, she wasn’t smiling.

Ava held up the phone. “It’s done.”

“Good. I’ve got to go though. Miss Benoit wants me to come down to the office.”

“What did you do to piss her off? She didn’t look too happy. Not that it takes much with her.”

“I don’t know.” A thought struck me. “Rats! I forgot to pick up my schedule. She told me specifically to get it off her desk, but I completely forgot. Do you think that’s it?” The old Lacey would never have allowed such a lapse in attention to academic detail.

“Benoit always has a bug up her behind over something, so it’s possible. I better go with you for back up.”

“Is she that bad?”

Ava grimaced. “The rumor is that she used to be a model or something when she was younger, but something happened and she ended up stuck here as a glorified secretary. She’s always acting like everyone else is beneath her, even the dean.”

Claire Benoit was tapping away at her computer keyboard when we entered the reception area. Her eyes flicked up from the screen. “Go on in. They’re waiting for you. You might as well go too, Ava.” Scowling, she jerked her chin towards the office.

Ava and I shared a look as we stepped inside. I could feel there was trouble, but I didn’t expect who I found seated in front of Dean Dalton’s desk.

The red-haired man called Bel and the young girl with tattered blonde hair.

CHAPTER FIVE

A MESSAGE

“Hello, Lacey, Ava.” Dean Dalton didn’t invite us to sit.

I could feel Ava tremble beside me as she stared at the red-haired man. I hadn’t explained anything to her about him because he was a mystery to me as well, but I’d told her that many beings of magic lived in this world like normal humans. We were actually lucky Bel showed up when he did. Without any power, my only defense against a vampire was my strong singing voice and childhood dance training—meaning my ability to scream loud and run. Still, it was probably a good thing she’d left her bag back in our room or she might have gone on another swinging spree. By the way Bel was surreptitiously rubbing his jaw, he seemed to be thinking the same thing.

“Does the Amazon really need to be here, Dalton?” Bel drawled, jerking his chin at Ava.

It was his young, blonde companion who answered. “She saw the vampire and what you did to it, Bel. Lacey has probably already filled her in on everything else, so there’s no point keeping her in the dark. Besides, she’s pretty good with a weapon.” The girl looked at me. “That’s probably going to come in handy.”

The dean crossed her arms. “I’ve been apprised of your adventure last night. Have you taken it upon yourself to inform Ava of all the details on our kind?” Her voice was cold.

Rebellion pulsed through me, but I forced myself to respond with the kind of smile that usually got me out of trouble. “I think Ava has a right to the truth about this world, but I’m sorry if I broke some sort of rule around here.”

Bel snorted. “Don’t try throwing your watered down lorelei charm around here, girl. The only one it works on is your Amazonian friend, and by the looks of it, she’s already wrapped around your finger.”

The blonde girl rolled her eyes. “What my rude friend means to say is that his name is Bel. If you were around way back in the B.C.s, you would have worshipped him as a sun god. If you were around in the Seventies, you probably would have known him as the runway model who blew away his career and about a million dollars’ worth of cocaine in the back room of Studio 54.”

Bel pouted. “It was only a few hundred thousand, and you never needed to go to a dingy back room at Studio 54 to do your business. Those were more civilized times.”

The girl rolled her eyes again. “Whatever. It’s like, ancient history.” She lifted a laptop off the dean’s desk and offered it to me. “I’m Chloe. I have a message for you.”

I glanced at Ms. Dalton, but she was staring at her hands folded on the desk in front of her. Chloe followed my gaze. “I’ve already given the White Lady her message, but maybe she should share it with you. It concerns you too.”

I took the laptop and the girl slouched back in her chair as if she’d been released from some great tension. “White Lady?” I asked.

The dean looked up. “I’m the White Lady— the leader of the New Orleans coven. All other covens in the Southern U.S. owe their allegiance to us.” She gestured to the two in front of her. “Bel and Chloe work for Morgause, the Seer of New York. You’ve heard of her?” I nodded. “Good. Then you know that her messages are not to be taken lightly. I can guess what message she bears for you. Hearing mine may help you better understand yours. Go ahead Chloe.”

The girl stared back. “You know I can’t.”

Gesturing helplessly, the dean sighed. “I’m sorry. I forgot. We’re all bound by the rules of our separate vocations.” She pushed her chair back and stood. “Chloe is the Messenger—the only one of her generation that we know of. She’s the direct descendent of the being who once called himself Hermes, the messenger of the gods. Each of his descendents who are born with the same gift serves Morgause from the age of ten till adulthood. Chloe has an eidetic memory, and once given a message by someone with the power to command her, she can and must only give it to the designated recipient of that message, or die trying. Bel is her bodyguard.” The dean’s lips twitched. “Though what he did to fall from Morgause’s grace to get that assignment, I don’t know.”

“Trust me, it’s an honor.” The man’s tone was sour.

Ms. Dalton sat on the edge of the desk. “Chloe, if I give you a direct command to repeat the message to Lacey, now that you’ve discharged your duty, would that suffice? It risks turning possibility into fate if I voice my own death warrant.”

Chloe sat up straight again. “Maybe. Command me with power to ‘repeat’, not ‘say’, and I think it will release your message.”

The dean didn’t move, but I felt the flare of power as she murmured the words of a spell under her breath. “I am the White Lady,” she said out loud. “Messenger, you have discharged your duty to me. You will repeat the words of the message which now belongs to me to do with what I will.” I might have been imagining it, but I thought I saw the slightest shine of silver through the sleeve of her silk shirt.

Chloe’s pale eyebrows lifted in surprise. “That did it.” All business now, she turned to me. “So, here’s the White Lady’s message from Morgause. The Gates of Guinee stand between this world and the next, guarded by the Ghede. To open the seventh gate, Saint Expedite demands an offering of the bones of three witches. Li Grande Zombi will swallow them and open the way between worlds.” She smirked at me and a dimple formed in one cheek; she definitely wasn’t even thirteen yet. “That’s actually a pretty straightforward one as far as messages from Morgause go.”

Ava breathed in sharply. “Wait a minute, I get it! It’s Voodoo!”

The dean’s face was white. The message didn’t mean anything to me, but it clearly did to her. “According to Voodoo lore, the Ghede are powerful spirits who guard the way between life and death. The seven gates are thought to represent the seven days that a spirit remains close to the body and is in danger from an evil bokur or wizard. In Lousiana Voodoo, the Ghede are called the Barons. The statue of Saint Expedite near St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 is believed to represent the most fearsome Ghede of all—Baron Samedi. And the seventh gate is believed to be hidden in the cemetery.”

“And zombies.” Ava’s voice shook. “I’m sure she said zombies.”

“No, Li Grande Zombi was Marie Laveau’s pet snake. It was thought to embody the snake god Dhamballa.”

I shook my head. “So someone’s going to try to open the gates by using the bones of witches? That’s crazy!”

“Is it? Perhaps. But the threat is real if Morgause sent the message. My death would create a power struggle on this continent that we can ill afford given the more recent turn of events.”

Bel swung his legs off the desk and straightened in his chair. “King Arthur’s return has set plots and plans in motion all over the world. War is coming, and when it’s over, there’ll be a whole new order in place. Everyone with even half a talent is going to try to carve out a little kingdom for himself out of the chaos.”

“Are they?” the dean murmured. “What we do know for a fact is that the bones of one powerful witch are already missing.”

“Marie Laveau,” I guessed.

“Yes. The original Xs marking her tomb were part of a spell that every ignorant tourist’s addition only strengthened. The marks were deliberately simple and crude to conceal their true purpose.”

Ava rubbed her arms. “Obviously someone figured it out.”

“Obviously. I have to admit I never anticipated someone simply erasing the marks with paint. But you have to understand that the Voodoo Queen’s followers were responsible for that magic—and that magic has nothing to do with my own. I was not Marie Laveau’s keeper, though perhaps I should have been. Our unknown assailant now has the first component of the spell. That leaves us on the list.” She was looking at me.

One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. It took a moment before I was calm enough to speak. “The vampire called it a creature. He said it was looking for me, but I don’t have any power. Not anymore.”

The dean gestured for Chloe to respond. “The Seer of New York had a premonition of the Crone’s death and sent me to her.”

“You were in my hometown? Doesn’t the Seer believe in telephones? Or email?”

“Morgause would never trust one of her messages to any medium that can be manipulated and altered. I have no choice except to deliver any message exactly as I receive it.” The girl looked uncomfortable. “She was angry that we didn’t stick around long enough to witness everything that happened there, but after the Crone gave us this laptop, we went home. My instructions from Morgause are to say to you ‘you are the Maiden’, and then tell you to open the laptop.”

A tingling sensation ran down my back. All eyes were on me, but I never minded a bit of theater. I knew the truth of what I was—a powerless, defeated, wannabe witch—but I’d go through the motions for now.

Placing the laptop back on the dean’s desk, I lifted the lid. The screen was blank except for a Celtic symbol, similar to the ones that once covered my arms. Three blades made a trillium shape with a circle cutting through the middle.

Chloe pointed to the tip of each blade. “Water, fire, air.” She traced the circle with her finger. “Bound by the all-encompassing spirit that commands them. The circle represents the body, or the blood, that houses the spirit and balances all the other elements.”

I backed away. “I don’t want anything more to do with blood magic.”

The girl traced her finger around the circle back the other way. “It’s not just blood. It’s body and spirit combined. It’s the power of the Earth as it contains all those elements. It’s everything that’s alive and powerful, balanced and contained. But that’s not the message.” She sat back down. “Press one of the keys.”

I obeyed and the screen saver disappeared, revealing a window open with a video embedded in it.

“Press play,” the girl urged.

When I pressed the arrow for play, the window filled with the Crone’s ageless, aristocratic features.

“Lacey McInnis, if you are watching this video then you know that I am dead. It is only just. Enhanced by my power this side of the Wall, I have lived longer than any being has a right to. You are my heir. Whether this brings you good or evil, I cannot say, and am surely now past caring. There is some money and a small house in upstate New York which are now yours and the details can be found on this computer. But most importantly, I am the last in a long line of my kind. I spent my years as the Maiden in Avalon. As the Mother, I raised heirs not of my own body. Viviane, Morgause, and Morgana sprang into being in their present incarnation fully formed, but with the minds of children. I spent my power bringing them into theirs. When they abandoned me, I became the Crone. I had thought that the daughter of Cernunnos would be mine, but she walks a darker, more dangerous path. So now, Lacey, I am left with you. Do not curse me for leaving you at the bottom of my choices, for you may yet have reason to curse me for choosing you at all. With my passing, you are the Maiden. From the moment you hear these words, this mantle is upon you and others will recognize it. This computer contains a partial account of all the spells I have achieved, but it is woefully incomplete and I can guess that I have not taught you anywhere near enough to protect yourself. The return of Arthur has set events in motion and there is no more time. The choice of what to do with what I have given you is yours. It is no longer my concern.”

The video ended. No one spoke as I closed the lid on the laptop. Even the constant tap, tap, tap of Claire’s keyboard had ceased.

Seeing the Crone again didn’t make me sad. The old Lacey had been taught in Sunday school to love one another. The new Lacey didn’t think old women who tortured you and then gypped you on all their promises deserved to be mourned.

I was winding my hair tightly around one finger and its tip was turning purple. I forced myself to let it go. “Whoever wants the bones of powerful witches doesn’t want mine.” I pushed up my sleeves to show my arms. “I have no power. I was just a receptacle for the Crone to use.”

The dean pushed up her own sleeves and held out her arms. The faint tracings of silver could have been dismissed as barely visible scars, but to me they looked like flowing vines and flowers. “Witches are mortal beings. We can’t touch magic without being marked by it. When we abstain or moderate our use of power, the outward manifestation fades, but what we have done can never be fully wiped away. The mark—the actual essence of power—goes deeper than that.”

Bel’s lips twitched. “What she’s trying to say is that it goes all the way to the bone.”

Horror filled me. If my very bones were marked by the Crone’s darkness, how could I ever escape her? How could I ever find my way back to being the old Lacey? “So I’m the third target.” I was perversely proud of how cool my voice was.

Ms. Dalton pulled her sleeves back down. “Maybe. While your potential as the Maiden is great, there’s someone currently much older and far more powerful who is also here in the city.

Bel became alert. “Who?”

The dean narrowed her eyes at him. “The current Voodoo Queen of New Orleans—Marie Laveau’s heir.”

“See? Voodoo,” Ava muttered under her breath. Louder, she asked, “Shouldn’t we warn this Voodoo Queen then?”

Dean Dalton tapped the desk. “Yes, but she won’t trust any message coming from me.” She looked meaningfully at Chloe. “But if it came from someone she would believe . . .”

Bel ran his fingers through his hair. “Bloody hell.”

As Chloe shook her head, her hair whipped around her shoulders. “Morgause wouldn’t like it. She’s possessive about what belongs to her.”

The man barked a laugh. “More like stark raving bonkers. Definitely not someone you want to piss off.”

The dean folded her arms. “Then it’s probably best not tell her about it.”

A scream of pain and terror broke the answering silence.

CHAPTER SIX

A TASK

Ava was out the door first. The rest of us followed her down the hall and into the foyer. Claire Benoit was propped up against the wall, a security guard pressing a cloth to her arm. An upturned bowl of Christmas balls had spilled its contents around her and drops of red blood were scattered over the silver spheres.

Ms. Dalton knelt beside her. “What happened?” The whites showed around Claire’s eyes and she was breathing fast. When she didn’t answer, the dean looked at the guard.

He pulled back the cloth to reveal two puncture wounds still streaming blood. “Maybe she tripped and fell against the fireplace. She could have hurt herself on the poker . . .” He paused, his face confused. “But I don’t know where it went to.”

Bel tapped him on the shoulder. “Be a good man and go call an ambulance.” The guard nodded and rushed back to his office.

Bel lifted the woman’s arm while she stared at him, panting and murmuring something. He frowned. “It looks like a snake bite.”

Claire nodded violently. “Yes, yes!” she cried. “Damballah, Damballah!”

Dean Dalton took the woman’s face in her hands, forcing her to look away. “Claire, listen to me. You’re safe now. I won’t let anything harm you, I promise. Just calm down and tell me what happened.”

The woman took a shuddering breath and seemed to regain some control. “It was the loa Damballah, the great snake god that bit me. And Baron Samedi commanded it! He was here. I am marked for death!”

“I had no idea you believed in Voodoo,” the dean murmured.

“Baron Samedi! It was him! Right here in this room!”

“Shhhh, I promise to protect you. We’ll get you to the hospital and make sure, but you don’t seem to have been poisoned by the bite. You can tell me more later, but for now, sleep, and I’ll guard you.” The dean whispered something in her ear and Claire closed her eyes. Silver flared once across the dean’s collarbone.

Bel threw himself down on the leather couch, his long legs spilling out onto the floor. “Well I know I’m exhausted! If we’re done here, Chloe, then let’s go back to the hotel.”

She ignored him. “What did you say to her?”

The dean slumped into an armchair. “It was a spell. I bound myself to protect her from any threat for as long as she lives.”

Chloe’s pale eyebrows lifted. “That’s a powerful spell. It leaves you exposed.”

“I could feel the magic in that bite; it was ancient and dark. When Claire showed up at the school a few years ago, she was homeless. I gave her a job thinking I was helping her, but she’s a mundane—she would never have been exposed to such evil if not for me.”

“Still . . . .”

“Do not argue with me in my own house, little girl.”

Chloe flushed. The dean sighed, but didn’t apologize. “I still need you to take a message to the queen.”

The blonde-haired girl’s lips set into a stubborn line. “That’s not a good idea.”

“I’ll do it,” I said and then wished I’d kept my mouth shut.

Bel didn’t wait for the dean to agree before he was up and on his feet. “That’s settled then. You don’t need us anymore. Good luck with the whole Voodoo thing. I’m going to be sipping a martini and getting a massage, but to each his own. C’mon Messenger, we’re going.” When he opened the door, the sound of the arriving ambulance came through it.

Chloe stared at me; I couldn’t tell if she was grateful I’d released her from the burden of accepting an unwanted message. “If you need us, we have a suite at the Ritz-Carlton until tomorrow—room 905.” I nodded and she followed her companion out.

The dean greeted the paramedics and explained that there was some possibility that Claire had been bitten by snake. With amazing efficiency, Miss Benoit was strapped to a stretcher and driven off in the ambulance.

“You’ll take the message then?” She was staring out the window at the departing vehicle.

I shared a look with Ava. The girl grimaced, but I knew she was in as well. “I said I would.”

“Then come with me.”

We went back to her office where the dean retrieved a set of keys and offered them to Ava. “You can take my car. It’s parked in the back.”

Ava took the silver key ring. “Aren’t you going up to the hospital?”

“Later. Whatever did this was able to pass wards that I’ve placed all around the property. I need to reinforce them immediately. I know everything that comes in or out of this place, and yet Claire was attacked by something practically right under my nose.”

“Everything?” Ava squeaked. I guessed she was wondering if the dean was aware of her late-night excursions through the hole in the fence.

But the woman was too pre-occupied to notice Ava’s discomfort. “You must tread very carefully with the queen. Her name is Adelaide Rochon. We’ve only met once, and trust me, it wasn’t a comfortable meeting. She’s a witch, but there are as many types of witches as there are shades between black and white.”

I shifted uncomfortably. “So we don’t know if she’s a good witch or a bad one.”

“Adelaide practices the Vodou religion, something outsiders can’t truly understand. The loa—the spirits—can be bound to do a petitioner’s bidding for good or evil. These opposites are only a balance and one is not necessarily preferred over the other. Because of that, it’s very difficult to assign any particular morality to her. I believe she can be trusted, up to a point, but she’s also very dangerous. ”

The dean sat down heavily. “Adelaide guards her power and influence jealously. I came to this school because the opening here allowed me to create a haven for the young members of our kind. I have rarely needed to use my power in almost twenty years. Still, Adelaide believes I’m only biding my time before I overthrow her and take her followers. Any message from me will be mistrusted, but perhaps she will listen to the Crone’s heir.”

One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. “Won’t she just think I’m here to take her power too?”

The way the dean smiled made my face go hot. “Not as the Maiden. Adelaide will respect you because the Crone chose you, but she’s not likely to fear you.”

Neither the old Lacey nor the one I was now liked being dismissed as inconsequential.

Ava jingled the keys. “So where are we going?” When the dean gave us the address, Ava whistled.

“C’mon, Lacey—you’re getting the proper New Orleans tour.”

An hour later, we were on our way to the French Quarter in Ms. Dalton’s Escalade, and I was wondering why on Earth the dean would give Ava the keys after the second pedestrian had to jump away from the curb, afraid for his life.

“Parking’s a bitch in the Quarter. We’ll still have to walk a bit.” She glanced at my face. “Sorry, I have a mouth sometimes.”

“That’s OK.”

“You don’t swear, though.”

“Old habits.”

The girl nodded. “I get that.” She was silent for a moment. “It’s creepy that Ethan was watching us, following us. It makes me wonder what else is out there that we don’t know about.”

I shrugged, remembering how I’d thought he looked like Peter. I hadn’t asked Ava what he looked like to her. Was a vampire’s glamour in the intended victim’s mind only? That would be truly creepy. “Magic always attracts other beings of magic. Someone once wanted to give me a charm to hide me from other magic users, but I turned it down. I wish I had it now.”

“Maybe there’s something on that laptop that could help you make one.”

“I doubt it. The Crone’s magic was aggressive.” I’d left the laptop on the dean’s desk. The woman gave me a knowing look, but didn’t comment when I walked out without it. I didn’t want to receive the Crone’s gift, even though I realized it was only a symbolic protest—it didn’t change the reality of what I now was. Somehow I knew that I was now the Maiden, whatever that meant, and whether I liked it or not.

Ava swerved to avoid running into the back end of a truck that had stopped to turn. “Those silver marks on the dean’s arms—are they really spells?”

“Symbols of them anyway.”

“Did yours look like that?”

I shook my head. “Mine were dark and twisted, like the Crone.”

“Holy . . .”—she stopped herself mid-swear—“spit. An actual free parking spot in the Quarter! There’s a first for everything.”

Ava rode the curb once and had to pull out and re-adjust before parallel parking between a mini-van and a sedan. We climbed out of the SUV and after a short walk, we turned a corner and Ava announced, “Welcome to Bourbon Street.”

I smelled it before I could take it all in—a mixture of tantalizing cooking odors and many days old beer with just the slightest hint of vomit. And then I heard it too—jazz and zydeco filtering out of several bars and cafes further down the street. And finally I could see it—lanterns and white archways, wrought iron balconies painted dark green and pink stucco walls. The street engaged my senses one by one.

A hand-painted sign hung from the bottom of the iron balcony of a two story building: Baron Samedi’s House of Voodoo.

“Not quite what you expected?” Ava asked.

“No.”

“What do we do now? Knock?”

The windows were shuttered, but the sign clearly listed the hours of operation. “It’s a store. I guess we just go in.”

I opened the door and stepped inside. A bell over the door frame announced our arrival and a handsome young man with smooth, dark skin and close-cut hair hurried in from a back room. “Welcome to Baron Samedi’s House of Voodoo. How can I help you?”

The store was dim; lamps with fringed shades lit the corners of the room, but the fluorescent light on the ceiling was turned off. Tall candles in glass lined one wall. Tall shelves were filled with small statues depicting Catholic saints and other beings I didn’t recognize. Unfamiliar objects of ceramic and string hung from the ceiling. Everywhere were figurines of cloth and straw with skulls for heads. On the wall above the front counter hung a painting of Baron Samedi himself.

The young man seemed to register how dark it was. “Just a second, please.” Rushing outside, he began to open the shutters over the windows.

As the light rushed in, what had at first seemed sinister, became touristy, even a little kitschy. Not the painting though. In the brighter light, it was only more menacing. Baron Samedi was depicted in a top hat and evening clothes, with a lit cigar in one hand, and an elegant walking stick in the other. The top of the walking stick was a skull and the Baron’s face was painted to match. There was something compelling and strangely familiar about the face.

The sales clerk returned. “Sorry about that. I forgot to open the shutters this morning. No wonder it’s been slow today.” He grinned, apparently unconcerned that customers had thought the store was closed. “Now, what can I help you young ladies with? A love charm? Perhaps an invocation to ask the loa to eliminate a rival?”

I matched him smile for smile. “No, thank you. What we really need is to see the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans.”

I had to give him credit—his smile faltered for only the slightest fraction of a second. “Now chère, someone’s been having a bit of fun with you. The last true Voodoo queens were Marie Laveau and her daughter, Marie Laveau the Second. If it’s tales of them you’re looking for, I have a couple of nice books in the back room.”

The clerk retreated around the counter, but I followed him. As I leaned against the counter, he couldn’t help but respond by leaning toward me, his hand almost touching mine. When I smiled, I could feel him soften, wanting to please me. He nodded. “Perhaps if you had a name, I could direct you to who you’re really looking for.”

I was tired of playing games. I’d learned enough from the Crone to recognize the subtle disturbance in my senses that being near a person with magic caused. This was no ignorant sales clerk. I leaned in a little closer. “Just tell Adelaide Rochon that the Maiden demands an audience with the Queen.”

Straightening, the clerk swore and all the folksy obsequiousness designed to fool tourists fell away. “I should have known the moment you walked in. Witch, right?” He didn’t wait for me to respond. “Auntie’s going to kill me for letting another witch in her house. You should go before she realizes you’re here.”

“I can’t do that. I have a message for her—one that might save her life.”

“Sure you do.” He jerked his chin at Ava. “And what are you, chère? Another witch?”

“Tennis player,” she replied flatly.

He stared at her for a second and then chuckled. “It’s comforting to know not every beautiful girl who walks in here is a witch.”

Ava’s posture changed subtly and suddenly the two of them were looking at one another with interest. I was forgotten.

Irritation made my voice sharp. “Are you going to tell Adelaide I’m here?”

He paused, considering, and then shrugged. “Why not? If she flays me alive for letting you inside, she certainly can’t flay me a second time for letting you upstairs. I can’t promise she won’t flay you though for bothering her.” I had the feeling he wasn’t joking. “C’mon. I’m Michel, by the way. We might as well be on a first name basis if we’re going to die together.”

Gesturing for me to precede him into the back room, he fell in step with Ava. Even though fear raised the hair on my arms, I walked into the dark. When my eyes adjusted, I saw the narrow staircase.

“Go on up,” he urged.

At the top of the stairs was a small landing which gave Ava and Michel a good excuse to stand close. Rapping on the door twice, he called out, “Auntie? Can I come in? There’s someone here who needs to speak to you.”

I couldn’t help myself. I reached out and gave the door a third knock. Michel glanced at me but didn’t comment.

There was no answer, but a small click indicated the door was now open.

The young man made a flourish with his arms, the whites of his eyes gleaming in the dim light. “After you, Maiden.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

A DISCOVERY

As I opened the door and walked in, I expected something as exotic as the store below with maybe a few shrunken heads thrown in for effect. I didn’t expect Swedish modern. The loft space encompassed the top floor of not just the store below, but at least two others beside it. Everything was blond wood, stainless steel, and cool stone. The only splash of vibrant color in the room was an abstract painting filling the entire length of one wall. It was all a little modern for my taste, but I appreciated the elegance and simplicity of the design.

I focused on the small woman seated at the glass dining table and she stared back. She was lighter skinned than her nephew, and while her hair was cut just as short, it was shot with grey. Dressed in a tailored, cream-colored pantsuit, she crossed her legs and revealed arch-achingly high stilettos. She looked more like the queen of realtors than of Voodoo.

“It’s a good thing for you that I love my sister, Michel.”

“Yes, Auntie.” For all his talk of flaying, he didn’t seem afraid. “These girls say they have an important message for you. And they know who you are.”

Narrowing her strangely light green eyes, she gestured for us to approach. Inspecting Ava briefly, the woman flicked her French-manicured fingers towards the sectional in the center of the room. “You. Go flirt with my irresponsible nephew over there.”

I nodded at Ava and she obeyed. Michel seemed happy to follow. I was happy to notice Ava had her weighted handbag with her, just in case.

Adelaide gestured again. “Sit.”

I sat down across from her. Tapping the glass with one long fingernail, she narrowed her eyes. “You run to plumpness, but have recently lost weight. And blood too, if I’m not mistaken.”

Irritation filled me, but I forced my lips into a small smile and didn’t respond. Five or ten pounds heavier wasn’t exactly plump.

She raised one eyebrow. “No? I’ll tell you something else then. The vapid milk of your complexion tells me you’re a Northerner. The lines around your mouth say that you smile too much and for little reason. There’s a mind behind those eyes, I think. When you’re old, you’re going to have a line of dissatisfaction between you’re brows. And you’ll be fat, most likely.”

One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. Smiling, I mimicked her movement, tapping my finger against the glass until the urge to smash her face into the table passed.

Leaning back, Adelaide sighed. “Ah, I’ve made you angry. Why do you cast a spell to erase your own feelings? Don’t you know that rage is powerful?”

I pressed my hand flat against the glass. “What spell?”

She looked down pointedly at my hand.

Gasping, I jerked it away, but the faint black mark on my wrist was already fading.

“Who are you?” Adelaide demanded. “And be assured the answer had better satisfy me or you and your friend will never leave this room alive.”

“Auntie . . . ,” Michel protested, but she pointed a long finger at him and he was silent.

I shared a glance with Ava and she pulled her bag closer. “My name is Lacey McInnis. I’m the Maiden,” I said simply.

Adelaide frowned. “Then the Crone . . . ?”

“Is dead. I was her apprentice. She made me her heir.”

The woman’s sudden laughter was startling. “You Celtics, always taking things so seriously, so sure you’re the possessors of original magic.” I knew she wasn’t talking about the basketball team. “I’ve heard about this King Arthur awakened from endless sleep, and the Horned One now calling himself Merlin. I’ve even heard he has a daughter with a strange power.” She laughed again. Standing suddenly, she walked over to a window and pulled open the blind. “Come over here. What do you see?”

I joined her at the window. “The street, some tourists, a few cars . . .”

“You see the world. Those beings who came from Avalon made themselves gods over it, but there is magic that is deeper and more ancient than any petty Roman god, or Norse hero, or Celtic king. The magic of the loa—the spirits—has existed since the beginning of time.”

The woman threw her arms around my shoulder, suddenly motherly. “Let’s eat, chère. Michel is an excellent cook. Truly, it’s the only reason I don’t send him back to his mother.” As she guided me back to the table, Michel stood and they shared a long look that I couldn’t read.

Finally, the young man looked down. “And I’m grateful, Auntie. Jobs are hard to find in the city.” She made an airy gesture with her right hand and Michel went to the kitchen.

Ava joined us at the table. Michel brought out four glasses and poured lemonade into them. The tart liquid cleared my throat. “I have a message for you,” I began, but Adelaide shushed me.

“Manners, child. Not until we’ve eaten.”

The lunch of pork medallions in peppercorn sauce was delicious. I watched Ava and Michel through my lashes, an ache beginning in my chest and spreading down my arms. They looked like they were really interested in one another. Why was it so easy for some people? What was wrong with me that the guy I loved couldn’t see me, even though many others would have happily lined up to take his place? The ache turned hot. How could Peter be such a fool? How could he love her?

I jumped at the clatter of Adelaide’s fork as she dropped it on her plate. “I see the rage in your face again. That is the power of the Maiden.”

“I don’t have any power.” It was becoming my mantra.

The woman waved her fingers at me. “Do you think Maiden, or White Lady, or Queen of Voodoo, are just colorful titles? The Crone’s power was of winter—cold, resentful, and full of revenge. She was the Crone for so long that the power of the Maiden and the Mother are almost forgotten in the world. The power of the Mother is the contentment of the fading summer and the plush fulfillment of fall. She is conservation, protection, and benevolence. But the power of the Maiden is warm spring and the hot flare of early summer—the power of growth, and violent beginnings, the frenzy of first love, and the aching yearning to become.”

Her words assaulted me, threatening to undo the casing of my skin so that my very atoms would explode into the air. I reached for something to calm myself, but I couldn’t remember numbers, or cuts, or rituals. I had no power. I had never had any power. At the end of everything, there was only Stephen, my little brother, lying dead on his bed, clutching his favorite toy. I couldn’t save him. No matter how smart, popular, or strong I made myself, he was still gone.

Screaming silently, my mind flew apart, following him.

A warm hand was on my shoulder—Michel’s. It calmed me. He seemed about to speak, but then he looked at his aunt.

She was regarding me thoughtfully. “You have an expressive face, Maiden. It’s a liability. You must learn to hide your feelings from the world. I can see clearly that the Crone tainted you with her winter somehow.”

Taking a shuddering breath, I nodded. “She used me as a receptacle for the power she wasn’t strong enough to hold.

The woman’s eyebrows shot up. “I wonder where she learned that trick. I didn’t even know it was possible.”

“Lacey?” Ava whispered.

“I’m all right.”

The girl looked afraid. “Your eyes rolled back in your head and you started to shake.”

I tapped the glass three times before I could respond. “I’m OK.”

Adelaide leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “There’s a balance to all the power that exists in the world. Good and evil. Light and dark. Young and old. I suspect the Crone upset that balance with what she did to you. You’re a very dangerous young woman, Lacey McInnis. The power of life, even violent life, is incompatible with a love of death.”

“I don’t love death. I hate it.”

She tapped the glass three times, mocking me. “Do you?”

Without warning, the woman’s face changed completely, and she looked hesitant, uncertain. “Michel?” Her voice quivered as she reached for him.  He helped her stand and she clutched his arm, hunched over and shaking. When she looked at me again, there was a gleam of insanity in her eyes. “I’m tired! Give me the damn message and then get out of here!” Ava and I stood in surprise.

Michel bent forward to murmur a few words in his aunt’s ear. Straightening, he said, “It’s time to go. The queen’s patience is fading.”

The hairs on my arm stood up and static electricity filled the air. I tried to take a step forward, but it was like trying to push through the winds of a hurricane. A roaring rose in my ears and I had to scream to hear my own words. “This warning comes from the White Lady who received it from the Seer of New York. Someone is stealing the bones of witches to open the Gates of Guinee! They have Marie Laveau’s already. They want yours!”

My hair whipped around my face and everything was blurred as if rain was falling sideways between us. Even through the roar, I could hear Adelaide cackling. “As if I’d be stupid enough to trust anything from the White Lady! Take this message back to that witch. Ask her how many innocent men she chased to their deaths to avenge the death of her daughter! Though your sins be as red as scarlet, they shall be white as snow!”

There was a flurry of motion and sound I couldn’t grasp or comprehend. The world went briefly blank, and then everything was silent. When I could see again, Michel, Ava and I were standing on the other side of the Queen of Voodoo’s closed door.

Michel gestured quickly. “C’mon, before she changes her mind and decides to play with us a little more.” We followed him down the stairs and back into the shop.

Ava’s eyes were wild. “What was that?”

“Adelaide is very old. Sometimes she forgets herself and says and does things she shouldn’t. I thought it was time to get us out of there.”

“You did that?” I asked.

He shrugged again. “Are you surprised that the nephew of the Voodoo Queen is a bokur?”

“Bokur?”

“I don’t know what you would call it in your world. A male witch? A warlock?”

Ava laughed abruptly. “New Orleans is just chock full of witches, isn’t it?”

I looked down at my hands; they were shaking. “What did she mean about the White Lady?”

Michel shrugged. “There are two factions of witches in New Orleans—those who practice Voodoo and follow my aunt, and those who follow the White Lady. I don’t know for sure why they call her that, but the rumor among Adelaide’s followers is that it concerns a folktale from the 1800s. The White Lady was a woman whose daughter was raped and murdered by a local farmer. Mad with grief, she threw herself into a lake. Her ghost supposedly wanders the roads at night dressed in white, looking for her child, and terrorizing passing motorists. Other versions of the story say she murdered the farmer and any other man who had ever dared to even look at her daughter.”

It was a long moment before I could speak. “Are you saying the dean of our school is a two hundred year old mass murderer?”

He ran his hand over his head. “I don’t know. Like I said, my aunt’s mind isn’t what it used to be. It could be true. Depending how we use our magic, we witches live much longer than Mundanes. But that’s not important right now. Tell me everything you remember about this warning. When Adelaide calms down, I’ll make sure she understands.”

While Ava related the details of the message Bel and Chloe brought from Morgause, and the attack on Claire Benoit, I wandered around the store. A small object on the back of a shelf caught my eye. It was a plain little doll made of cloth. Unlike the skull-headed versions, this one had no face and smelled like it was filled with herbs. I recognized it immediately.

“Why do you have a fith-fath in the store?” I asked.

Michel came over to look at what I held in my hands. “What did you call it?”

“A fith-fath. Someone made one for me once, but I didn’t take it. It was supposed to mask my presence from other magic users who wished to harm me. I was stupid to refuse it.”

“I’ve never heard it called that before.”

Ava grabbed the little figure from me. “I know what this is! It’s a Voodoo doll! People stick pins in it to hurt you.”

The young man laughed as he took the doll from her hand and waggled it at her. Ava took a quick step back, fear on her face, and he looked a little ashamed. “Sorry. Don’t worry. All that’s just stuff that’s been made up for horror movies. This is gris-gris—talisman based magic. You use the pin to put a picture or name on the doll to focus your spell on that individual or to call on a spirit. Then you petition it to help you with love, power, luck, or an uncrossing.”

When Michel tossed the doll on the shelf. I picked it up again, feeling strangely protective of it. “An uncrossing?”

“If someone wishes you bad luck or casts a spell on you, you use this to undo it.”

I shook my head. “That’s so similar to what Tal . . . to what someone once told me about it, but that was a completely different culture.”

“Don’t worry. I know all about Taliesin, King Arthur arisen, and the Horned God Cernunnos now calling himself Merlin.” I looked up in surprise at the young man. “Your people think the magic came to this reality with the creatures who left Avalon, but I believe it has always been here.”

“What do you mean?”

His dark eyes were intent, but he didn’t answer my question. “It doesn’t matter. Take it. If you wind a strand of your hair around its neck, maybe it will protect you the same way your fith-fath was supposed to.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, slipping the doll into the pocket of my sweater. I glanced over at Ava. The girl looked shaken and afraid. “We should go.”

Michel nodded. “And I should go with you to speak to the White Lady so we can plan how to proceed against this threat. My aunt’s no good to anyone in the state she’s in right now. She almost never leaves the apartment anyway. The cars and people confuse her and she forgets who she is.”

“Is she safe here alone?”

Michel laughed. “New Orleans will be safer from her while she’s in a mood, and we need to find out who wants the bones of witches before they have a chance to strike.”

Ava fidgeted nervously, obviously anxious to leave. “We’re parked around the corner.”

“I’ll just lock up the shop.”

As Michel prepared to close the store, my eyes were drawn back to the painting of Baron Samedi on the wall. The combination of elegant clothing and the skull-painted face was almost lewd, but there was something familiar about it too. “Michel, is the Baron real? Miss Benoit said she saw him when she was attacked.”

The young man glanced at the painting, but his eyes slid away as if the sight made him uncomfortable. “I have no doubt that whatever he truly is, the Baron is very real.

“And what about the loa—the spirits? Do you believe they’re really trapped on another plane of existence, forced by your rituals to obey you?”

Michel hesitated. “I don’t know that I believe in life after death in the religious sense. I do know that just like the Baron, the entities we call the loa are also real. And the Gates of Guinee keep the loa from entering our world.”

I had to swallow three times before I could speak. “But what if they are the spirits of the dead? If the gates are opened, could the dead come back to life?”

“I don’t know, but whoever stole Marie Laveau’s bones has someone special in mind to bring over to this side.”

I pointed at the picture. “Baron Samedi?”

“Perhaps.”

“But if Claire saw him, he must already be here.”

He shrugged. “There have been sightings of the Baron before. Maybe he’s able to appear briefly, but can’t stay permanently. Maybe Death always draws him back to the gates and ejects him from this world.”

We were all staring at the painting now, considering the terrible thought of such a creature making this world its home.

Michel closed up the store and followed us down the street to the dean’s SUV. I let him sit in the front, and to his credit, he only clutched at his seatbelt the first time Ava ran a stop sign. They continued the murmured conversation they’d begun in Adelaide’s apartment, but I ignored them. I couldn’t help thinking about the possibility of a magic that might allow the spirits of the dead to return to this world.

Stephen. Stephen. Stephen. I tapped my fingers on the window in time to his name.

“That’s funny,” Ava said as we drove through Westover Academy’s entrance.

I unclicked my seatbelt and leaned forward. “What?”

“The school’s technically closed for the Christmas holidays, so we should have had to buzz in to get the guard to open the gate.”

“Maybe someone else came in and he forgot to close it.”

“It’s almost two.”

“So?”

Ava frowned out the window at the empty lawn. “Security always checks the front around now.”

“How do you know that?”

She arched an eyebrow at me. “Trust me, the art of not getting caught requires knowing exactly where security will be at any given time. It’s actually a bit of a scandal. A whole lot of Fortune 500 progeny are enrolled here. The least the security company could do is randomly vary the schedule, but safety’s loss has been my gain.”

Ava parked in front of Stradford Hall and we ascended the stairs. As if on cue, the three of us hesitated in front of the doors. I had the strange impression that something was waiting for us behind them, but the building was hushed and silent.

I swallowed. “I guess we should go inside.”

With a gentlemanly gesture, Michel opened one of the doors and peered inside. “Are all the lights usually off?”

Ava shook her head. “Maybe the dean went to the hospital to see Miss Benoit, but the foyer is always lit and someone should be in the security office.” She stepped inside and I followed her. Michel eased the door shut behind us.

Looking down the darkened hall towards the Dean’s office, I could see that the lights were off there too. “We have her car. She said she was going to reinforce the warding spells she’d placed around the school.”

“Maybe she’s out back.”

“Let’s check her office first, just in case. Maybe the power’s out or something.” I stopped abruptly.

“What?” Ava asked.

The picture of the Witch of Endor was hanging askew again. On the surface of the glass, across the figure of the witch, were two deep scratches.

Without conscious thought, I was running down the hall. Slamming against the door frame of the reception area, I pushed myself across the room. The dean’s door was closed. I wanted to open it, but my body wouldn’t obey. Wrapping my fingers around the knob I turned it back and forth. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. When I completed the ritual, I could finally turn the knob one last time and shove the door open so hard that it banged against the wall. Ava and Michel pushed into the opening beside me.

Some things can’t be unseen. The image from that day will be with me until I die and darkness finally claims my mind.

Meat was thrown around the room—human meat. Gobs of flesh hung from the walls. Here and there was evidence: a fingernail, a hank of brown hair, a shred of silk cloth. Torn scraps of the portrait that had hung on the wall looked like they’d been tossed around the room like confetti. Splinters from the frame impaled pieces of fat in a ghastly parody of hors d'oeuvres on toothpicks

There was blood everywhere, but no bones, not a single bone amongst the ruin of what was once a living being.

CHAPTER EIGHT

A DEATH

I couldn’t move. Ava had stumbled away and I could hear her being sick behind me. The sound of Michel’s breathing was harsh, but his voice was controlled. “The White Lady?”

“Yes.” I wanted to, but I couldn’t stop looking. I thought the Crone was evil—I thought I was evil— but I’d never seen evil until that moment.

“The bones are gone.” It wasn’t a question, but I nodded.

“H-h-how c-c-could s-someone do that? T-to a p-person?” Ava began sobbing and softly moaning.

As the smell of sickness mingled with the stench of rotting meat, darkness closed around me.

Michel caught me before I fainted and pulled me away from the carnage. Sitting me down on the couch, we stared at one another. His skin was ashy and his hands on my arm shook, but after a few moments, our breathing slowed and synchronized.

“No, no, no.” Ava was hunched over in a corner, rocking back and forth on her knees. A wave of complex emotion set my teeth buzzing. There was an intense desire to smash something, and beneath that, a shameful desire to smash it against Ava to make her stop.

Michel let me go and stood. “The shock is too much for her, but maybe I can help.

“How?”

He hesitated. “Bokur medicine.”

I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of it, but the girl was silent now, and her eyes were wild and staring. It was worse than the crying and moaning. The Lacey I once was would have been filled with concern and compassion. “Do it,” was all I could manage now.

He pulled out his wallet. Inside was a translucent packet containing dark granules. “She’ll need some water.”

“I’ll go get it.”

“Are you all right to stand?” I stood to prove I was. Kneeling beside Ava, Michel cupped her cheek with his hand. She stared at him with uncomprehending eyes.

“I’ll be right back.” As I stumbled down the hall past the picture of the Witch of Endor, a glint of color on the floor in front of it caught my eye. Kneeling down, I ran my fingers across the flecks of green and gold and was shocked to discover they were scales of some sort.

By the time I came out of the dining hall with a glass of water, Ava and Michel were already sitting together on a couch in the foyer. He looked up. “She was able to take the medicine without water. I thought it was better to get her away from that room.”

Flashes of irritation and suspicion went through me, but I kept my face relaxed.

He took the glass from my hand and gave it to Ava. “She should drink something anyway.” Ava began drinking in big gulps.

“What did you give her?”

“Just a special herb enhanced with magic to create a mild sedative. It will help her function until her mind is able to process what she’s seen.” He took the empty glass back. “You feel better now, right Ava?” She nodded.

I sank into a chair. I was so tired. “What should we do? Should we call the police?”

Michel shook his head. “They’ll think we did it. At the very least, they’ll detain us all for questioning. I need to protect my aunt.”

“We can’t leave it . . . her there.”

“Don’t forget that you’re a target too. We need to get you somewhere safe.”

“But when one of the guards finds her, they’ll suspect Ava or me anyway. They know we’re the only ones on campus.”

“Lacey, I don’t think there’s anyone left alive here.”

I thought of the open gate and knew he was probably right. I needed to make a decision. “I know somewhere we can go, but I need to talk to Miss Benoit first. She was bitten by the same thing that killed the dean.”

Michel was instantly alert. “You know what did this?”

I held up the iridescent scales clutched in my hand. “Li Grand Zombi.”

Ava followed me over to the residence and up to our room while Michel waited for us in the SUV. I began to gather some clothes, and after a moment, she did the same. She didn’t speak though, and I worried that despite Michel’s medicine, she was in deep shock.

I looked around with regret. I’d already begun to think of the room as home. I didn’t know if I would be coming back, so I grabbed my scrapbook and the leather bag containing the harp of Binnorie. Stuffing my clothes in the bag, I grabbed Ava’s as well, and she trailed behind me back down to the SUV like a faithful puppy. I held the back door for her to get in and then dumped the bags at her feet.

Why do some people get to fall apart while the rest of us have to put on our big girl panties and go on? As I got in the front seat, my compulsions made me put the key in the ignition and take it out three times before I was able to turn on the engine, but I finally did it.

Michel was staring at me and I could feel my face flushing. I had everything precious to me in the leather bag on the floor of the back seat, so why shouldn’t I just get on the next plane home? The death of a witch I barely knew wasn’t really my problem.

Not my problem. Not my problem.

I didn’t finish my personal incantation; I let it hang there, uncomfortable and incomplete. The image of Elisha Dalton’s torn and chopped up flesh was an itch in my mind that I couldn’t scratch; a picture frame that couldn’t be straightened; a ritual that I couldn’t complete.

Or could I?

Knowing I was doing the right thing—knowing I was doing the stupid thing—I opened the door and got out.

“Where are you going?” Michel yelped.

“I can’t leave her like that.”

“We have no idea how long we’re safe here. Someone will show up with a delivery or the next security shift will arrive. At some point, the cops are going to be all over this place.”

“I have to go back. It won’t take long, I promise.”

I didn’t wait for him to protest again. I returned to Stradford Hall and entered the darkened building. Moving deliberately, I counted my steps in threes until I stood outside the reception area of the dean’s office. The recitation of numbers in my head had placed me in an almost trance-like state; I felt as if I was floating above my body, watching myself. It made me wonder if the dean’s spirit still lingered near her remains or if it had already fled to the place of peace and rest I’d believed in growing up. Maybe she had joined the loa and would spend eternity obeying Voodoo queens and bokurs.

I wondered who would miss her. Her daughter was dead, but she’d mentioned a cat. The thought of that cat waiting for her master to come home bothered me, and I was pushed back inside my body.

I went inside. Searching through the drawers of Claire’s desk for something sharp, I found a letter opener. Telling myself to think of the slabs of protein in front of me as things, not a person, I drew the letter opener across my left palm three times, gasping in relief as I made the third cut. The wall to my right was sprayed with blood and gore. I pressed my hand against it.

The Crone had used my blood for many of her spells. Blood was a balance of all the elements—fire, water, air—bound by the spirit or will contained in the body. With blood magic, you weren’t constrained by specific words and actions needed to create specific outcomes. With blood, you could control the elements, if your will was strong enough. There was always a price to pay, but by using someone else’s blood, some of that price was passed on to them. The Crone had used a lot of my blood. I sometimes wondered if that was why I felt so dead inside—if the price I’d paid for her magic had made me less than human.

“Round and round and round we go. Where we stop, nobody knows.” I didn’t know why the words to the rhyme had come to my mind. I wanted to laugh, but didn’t let myself.

With the power of my blood and the White Lady’s combined, I called on one of the Crone’s spells written on my very bones to answer. There had to be something useful. As Cailleach, the great hag/queen of winter, half the spells she’d stuffed into me were ones of pale destruction. It probably would have hollowed me out and left me mindless, but she could have saved herself from Morgan and Boudica using one of those spells. Instead, she allowed Boudica to cut off her head.

Self-pity coursed through me. If the Crone and I had succeeded in freeing the dragon Melusine and delivering it to Merlin, I would have been rewarded with enough power to fill the empty, yawning cavern of my heart. But the Crone loved Morgan—her one-time daughter—and wouldn’t stand against her. I was less than nothing to the Crone, just a consolation prize when Rhi refused to be her apprentice. The Crone had left me with nothing to fill what my brother had torn out of me when he died.

Rage burned through self-pity until it was nothing but a curling wisp of smoke. I remembered who I was. I was Lacey McInnis—top student, head cheerleader, good girl—and I didn’t do self-pity. Maybe my love for Peter couldn’t fill me. The Crone’s acceptance would have been a drop of water in an empty pit. Triumphing over Rhi would only have brought me brief satisfaction. But this spell could fill the aching void.

“Ebb, flood, and ebb: I know

Well the ebb, and well the flow.

And the second ebb, all three,

Have they not come home to me?”

It was a spell to return three-fold whatever I desired, and I desired the Crone’s cold power. I conjured in my mind the picture of the symbol that had once burned on my shoulder and felt an answering pain deep underneath my skin.

The white destruction of winter filled my body.  I embraced it and let it build until there was no way to contain it and it erupted through every pore in my skin. My screams filled the school as every atom of the White Lady was obliterated from creation by white fire.

When the blizzard of power passed and I could feel myself again, I discovered that I had fallen to my knees. I looked up. The room was empty of any trace of blood or flesh. Stumbling to my feet, I noticed something I’d completely forgotten on the dean’s desk—the Crone’s laptop. Amazingly, it had survived everything unscathed. I tucked it under my arm and left. I didn’t look back.

Michel was watching me with a frown on his handsome face when I returned to the SUV. Ignoring him, I stowed the laptop in my bag on the floor of the back seat, careful not to lean it against the harp of Binnorie. There was a faint, haunting sound and my heart skipped a beat, but that was all. The harp still had nothing to say to me. Ava didn’t move when I slammed the door; she was slumped across the seat and seemed to be sleeping.

“What happened?” Michel asked as I slipped into the front.

“I took care of it.”

“How?”

“How did you help Ava? I’m a witch. You of all people should know better than to ask my secrets.” As I said it, I realized it was true. No matter how hard I’d been trying to find my way back to the old Lacey, she didn’t exist anymore. I was a witch. There was no denying it any longer.

Michel looked away. “Sorry.”

I didn’t respond as I put the car in gear and drove through the academy’s front gate. Michel gave me the directions to the nearest hospital. I just hoped it was the one Claire Benoit had been taken to. Focusing on the unfamiliar roads, I tried to ignore the warmth on my shoulder that told me a twisted black symbol might have appeared there.

I resented it. The Crone’s magic was lodged inside me like a parasite. I thought of the beautiful silver swirls on poor Elisha Dalton’s skin and hoped that there was more than one kind of witch. But even the dean had begun her career by terrorizing motorists as the White Lady.

When we entered the hospital complex, Michel directed me to a deserted corner of the parking garage. “Wipe down the steering wheel and the handles with your sleeve. Have you ever been arrested?”

“Of course not.”

“Good, then your prints won’t be on file.” I stared at him. “We have to leave the SUV here. We can’t be seen with the White Lady’s car.”

“You’re right. I didn’t think of that. Thanks, Michel.”

“For what?”

“For helping me deal with all of this.”

We both looked back at Ava. I was surprised to see that her eyes were open. Michel smiled and she smiled in response. Reaching over the seat, he brushed her hair with his fingertips. “C’mon, chère. We need to leave the car now.” She nodded and sat up—soft, compliant, and so different from the restless, vibrant girl I’d come to know.

I got out and hoisted our bags on my shoulder. Michel led us through the garage and into the hospital by a circuitous route, silently pointing to several security cameras mounted on the ceiling.

At the main desk, I gave Claire’s name to a tired looking admin and she checked her computer. “Sorry, Claire Benoit was examined and discharged shortly after admittance.”

I groaned in frustration. “We have to know what she saw. Maybe I should go back to the school in case she shows up there.”

Michel shook his head. “You shouldn’t go back there.”

“We shouldn’t go back,” Ava agreed.

When the woman at the desk looked at us with an expression of curiosity on her face, Michel took Ava’s arm and pulled her away. Flashing the woman an innocent smile, I followed him back out the front doors.

He hailed a taxi. As it approached, he kept his voice low. “We’ve wasted enough time. Either you or my aunt are the next target. Given her state of mind when we left, it might be better if I go to her alone. Hopefully, she’ll be herself again and will have a plan for what we should do. You said you had somewhere safe to go?”

“We need to get to the Ritz-Carlton.”

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “The Ritz?”

“Chloe—the Messenger—told me I could find her there. I just hope she hasn’t left yet.”

“While you were talking with my aunt, Ava told me all about Morgause’s people. Isn’t Chloe just a little girl? How can she possibly protect you?”

“Not her. I need Bel. He turned a vampire to ash. Hopefully he’s just as effective on giant snakes.”

The taxi dropped Michel off at Baron Samedi’s House of Voodoo and I agreed to touch base with him in an hour. As he got out, Ava became agitated and tried to follow, but he murmured something in her ear and she relaxed. She didn’t speak to me. I wasn’t sure which one I liked the least—freaked out Ava, or sulking Ava.

When we arrived at the hotel on Canal Street, I finally understood what the phrase “putting on the Ritz” meant. The Ritz-Carlton New Orleans was exactly the sort of place I’d always secretly believed I would end up at. On the outside of the imposing building, carved stone swags ran along the top of the first story windows like icing on a cake. Inside, the lobby was lit by crystal chandeliers and light bouncing off of polished marble floors. Everything, from the brass handles on the doors to the vases of fresh flowers displayed on the tables, had been chosen to create an air of dignity and luxury. I was gaping and could feel myself grinning, but for once, I didn’t care.

Ava trailed behind looking completely disinterested. Coming from money and her own hotel-owning family had made her immune to the beauty around her.

As we took the elevator to the ninth floor, I prayed that Bel and Chloe hadn’t checked out; I had no other way to contact them. When I knocked on the door to their room, the silence stretched for so long that I almost gave up hope. Suddenly, there was the faintest hint of sound behind the door, and I knew that someone was watching me through the peephole.

Tired, afraid, and completely fed up, I thumped the door with my fist three times to underline my demand. “O-PEN-UP!”

After a moment, the lock turned and the door swung open. Bel slouched in the opening wearing nothing but a pair of black briefs. He looked terrible; his hair stood up in red spikes and his eyes were bloodshot. “What the hell do you want?” he growled.

“We need help. Can we come in?”

“Who the hell are you?”

I stood up as tall as my five foot one inch stature would let me. “I’m Lacey McInnis. I’m the Maiden.”

He scowled, and then waved his hand. “Right, right. Sorry, love, I forgot. Once you start running messages for Morgause, the recipients all start to look alike. What do you want?”

“I want to come in.”

I knew by the way he hesitated that he was lying about not recognizing me; he just didn’t want to let me in. Without waiting for him to answer. I pushed past and Ava followed. “Where’s Chloe?”

He slammed the door behind us. “How the hell should I know? She must be rattling around here somewhere.”

I walked through the marble foyer into a spacious living room, complete with a fireplace and billiards table. Glass doors opened onto a stone terrace overlooking the French Quarter. The view was incredible, but I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the needles and small vials littered over one of the coffee tables.

Bel threw himself down onto one of the sofas. “Get out here, Messenger!”

The doors leading to the bedroom opened. Chloe peered out, rubbing her eyes. “What time is it?”

“Apparently it’s time to get up.”

Chloe frowned at the clock on the mantle over the fireplace. “It’s almost two! What happened to our wake-up call? We were supposed to check out of here ages ago. We’ve missed our flight, you know.” She stomped around the room, a small figure in flannel pajamas. When she noticed the drug paraphernalia on the table, her face never changed expression, but her voice was filled with disdain. “Get rid of your junk, Bel.”

He flounced off the couch and gathered up his things, disappearing into the bathroom muttering, “Yes, your majesty.”

“Stupid junkie,” she muttered back. Making a face, she hopped on the sofa Bel had vacated and pointed to the one opposite. “You guys might as well sit down. We’re going to have to pay for the extra night so I guess we aren’t in a hurry anymore.”

I sat down. Ava sat close beside me. Chloe frowned, and squinted at us, but didn’t ask why we were there or make excuses for Bel’s drug habit. I felt a wave of sadness that someone so young could be forced to have a companion as sordid as Bel, but then pushed it away. No one had sympathy for me when I was the Crone’s slave. All they did was act high and mighty, and so pure, so condemning of my choices. I’d been tossed to the wolves and I’d survived. Chloe looked like she would too.

“The White Lady is dead. It was the same creature that attacked Claire Benoit—the snake Li Grand Zombi.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. I’m sorry.” The girl sounded more confused than sorry—as if she had no idea why I was telling her this.

One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. It took me a moment before I could respond. “So we need your help. You said to contact you if we did.”

The girl bowed her head and her tattered blonde hair covered her cheeks. When she looked back up, there was a hint of pink in her pale face. “I shouldn’t have told you that. I’m just the Messenger.”

“We just need somewhere safe to stay until we can figure things out.”

“Figure things out,” Ava echoed beside me.

Chloe cocked her head and frowned. As her eyes darted back and forth between me and Ava, Chloe looked as if she was considering our request, but then she sat up straight and said, “Hey! When did your friend get turned into a zombie?”

CHAPTER NINE

AN ALLIANCE

I stared at her. “What?”

Chloe brushed tangled hair back from her face. “I’m not exactly an expert, but that’s a classic zombie.”

“That’s crazy.” But Ava didn’t respond to the accusation and a whisper of unease curled through my stomach.

“Bel!” Chloe yelled. “Come in here!”

The man sauntered out of the bathroom. “In, out—make up your mind, Messenger.”

She pointed at Ava. “Take a look.”

Bel leaned forward, squinting. “Oh, right. A zombie. Missed that.”

The girl looked at me as if to say, “See!”

One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. “Ava isn’t a zombie, for crying out loud!”

Chloe stood and marched over to us. “Stand up.” Ava obeyed. “Let’s go now. OK?”

“OK,” Ava replied as she followed Chloe two times around the coffee table and back to her original position. When Chloe sat down, so did Ava.

Bel chuckled. “Zombies are fun.”

When Ava’s shoulders brushed mine, I darted away.

“Relax.” Bel drawled. “Zombies don’t eat brains. They’re ordinary people who’ve been spelled by a bokur into a trance-like, incredibly suggestible state. Didn’t you even notice that she was following you around, mimicking everything you did? I have to admit, I prefer her this way. I don’t bruise easily, but the she-wolf just about cracked my jaw in two.”

I couldn’t help myself; I inched farther away on the couch. “Michel did this.”

“Who’s Michel?” Chloe asked.

“The Voodoo Queen’s nephew. He gave Ava some sort of medicine to help her cope with . . . what we saw.”

Though Chloe’s face was soft and childish, her eyes were wise. “The bones were gone?”

I nodded.

Bel came over to Ava and lifted her chin with his fingers. I knew the burn of his touch, but Ava never flinched. “Zombies are created by a bokur using any drug that helps to separate the body from the mind. LSD will do, or just about any other street drug, but the spell a bokur uses to steal the will of the subject is a deep secret.”

I felt sick. “He said it was a mild sedative.”

Bel laughed. “Well it’s that all right. Cheer up, love. There’s no real harm done. Perhaps your bokur friend did the right thing. Mundanes have no business mingling with our kind. Perhaps he intended to remove the spell as soon as he thought Ava was more stable. Until then, she’ll follow anyone around like a puppy dog. She’ll say the right thing when prompted, but her mind is gone for the moment. He probably did the girl a kindness.”

Chloe looked troubled. “Maybe, but zombies are usually created for a purpose.” She glanced at me through her wild hair. “Think of it as a kind of brain washing with an embedded trigger. When the trigger is pulled, the zombie will act out its creator’s will.”

A chill went through me. Michel had sent me away on purpose. He could have done anything to Ava while I was gone. “I need to get Michel to undo whatever he did.”

Bel snorted. “And what if the girl turns into a hysterical lunatic when you do?”

“She won’t.”

The man draped himself over a chair. He was still in only his underwear, and unlike most redheads, the skin on his long limbs was creamy and unfreckled. A small flame licked me in unexpected places. Disgusted, I forced myself to coldness.

Chloe’s eyes were now shrewd. “Go put some clothes on, Bel. We’re going with them.”

“Whatever for?”

“Haven’t you been listening? Li Grand Zombi has the bones of two witches now.”

Bel went very still. “Really?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

He leapt to his feet. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

What we were waiting for was for Bel and Chloe to get dressed. It was one of the worst fifteen minutes of my life. No matter what Bel said, I couldn’t shake the fear that at any moment, Ava would turn into a brain eater. When Chloe emerged from the bedroom, Ava and I were in opposite corners of the room, staring at each other.

“Whoa, whoa!” Chloe stepped between us. “In case I wasn’t clear before, the zombie will basically follow your lead until triggered. So if you show suspicion and aggression, that’s exactly what you’ll get back. And she’s a lot bigger than you.”

Bel came out of the bathroom dressed in rock star chic. “Chloe, did we return that rental?”

“Not that you were in any state to notice, but yes, we did.”

He looked at me. “Do you have a vehicle?” I shook my head.

Sighing, the man picked up the phone on the side table. “Concierge? Yes, we need a limousine in ten minutes.”

“Taxi!” Chloe hissed.

The man rolled his eyes. “Excuse me, I misspoke. I meant to say, we need a taxi.” He said the word like it tasted nasty. Dropping the receiver on the base with a clang, he glared at the girl. “I regret the day your skinny little arse showed up at Morgause’s flat. There’s a new world order coming, girl, and I don’t intend to play your lackey once it does.”

Chloe shrugged. “Take it up with Morgause. I’m not the one who lost two hundred grand in Atlantic City.”

There was something so sensual and yet slightly ridiculous about the man with his extreme height and almost cartoonish hair, but Bel’s face now was a reminder that he was once a powerful god. I really knew nothing about the Messenger and her handler—in fact, I knew very little about anyone I’d met since I arrived in New Orleans—and past events had proven I wasn’t the best judge of people.

I’d grown up loved, popular, and maybe a bit spoiled if I was being honest. I trusted the Crone because I believed she was touched by my desire to be more than I was. Instead, she used me.

I wouldn’t let myself be used again.

Bel pouted the entire trip to Baron Samedi’s House of Voodoo. When he flounced out of the taxi, Chloe gave a sigh and paid the driver. I didn’t need to tell Ava to get out of the car. Chloe was right; Ava mimicked whatever we did.

I’d texted Michel a number of times on the way over, but got no response. The shutters were over the store windows, and when I tried the door, it was locked. Frustrated, I had to turn the knob to the left and then to the right three times before I could loosen my grip on it. Stepping away, I held my hands tight against my sides. “Michel implied that his aunt never leaves her apartment. She’s got to be up there.”

Smirking, Bel traced his finger around the base of the doorknob. There was a smell of burning wood, and then the knob fell into the store through the singed hole in the door. “You’re welcome,” he said, gesturing dramatically for me to enter. Hoping that no one on the street was watching, I propped the door open with my bag so the missing hardware wouldn’t be noticeable.

Bel shuddered dramatically as he pushed past me into the store. “Charming,” he drawled.

Chloe was staring at the painting of Baron Samedi with a frown on her face. “What?” I asked.

She shook her head and looked away. “Nothing.” I didn’t believe her, but the girl wouldn’t look me in the eye.

“C’mon, the stairs are this way.” They followed me up the narrow staircase, Ava trailing at the end, but at the top, I came to an abrupt stop. The door to Adelaide’s apartment was slightly open.

I couldn’t move. A complicated routine of turning the knob on the door back and forth in series of three might have broken the compulsion, but I wouldn’t touch the door.

Bel was waiting for me to enter first. “Maiden?” When I didn’t respond, he pushed past me and went inside. After only moments, he came back out again. “Turn around and go back down.”

I had to swallow three times before I could speak. “Why?”

His eyes sparked with an inner fire, glittering in the gloom. “You know why.”

I nearly skidded down the stairs and the howling in my ears had nothing to do with Voodoo magic this time. Back in the store, I slammed my hands hard against the glass of the front counter three times. Ava tapped the counter listlessly in response.

Chloe and Bel were staring, but agitation was still running through me like ants under my skin. Shoving my smarting palms into the pockets of my sweater, I found the little Voodoo doll. My hands seemed to have a mind of their own. Yanking strands of hair out of my head, I wrapped them three times around the doll’s neck. When I finished, some of the tension left my body and I felt like I could breathe freely again.

“Adelaide’s dead?”

Bel snorted. “It looked like somebody vomited a Jackson Pollack all over the place.”

“Bones?” Chloe asked.

He shrugged. “Not that I could see, but I wasn’t about to go wading through the muck to make sure.”

One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. My heart finally settled back to a normal rhythm. Taking a deep breath, I was about to ask what we should do next when I realized that both Chloe and Bel were now staring at the painting of Baron Samedi.

It’s funny how anger can burn away more complicated, less complete emotions. “For crying out loud, what is it? Why are you both staring at that thing?”

“Why?” Ava echoed blankly, but there was no real question behind her eyes—she was just parroting what she heard. Anger swelled in me. It was obscene that Ava’s bright and vibrant soul was trapped behind Michel’s spell.

Bel and Chloe shared a look. The man made a complicated gesture with his hands, and a ball of flame leapt from them to hover in front of the painting. The flickering light made the figure seem to breathe.

I saw it then—the thing that had caught the attention of my subconscious the first time. There were many versions of Baron Samedi in the candles, books, cards, and dolls throughout the store. None were like the painting on the wall though. I realized now that I recognized the face under the death’s mask, even though I’d seen it only once before in a scrying bowl when the Crone made a deal to deliver a dragon to Cernunnos, the horned god of the Celts, the Lord of Avalon, the wizard of Camelot—

Merlin.

CHAPTER TEN

A DEAL

I jumped when my phone went off. I’d dropped it in my bag, and as I searched for it, my hand brushed against the strings of the harp. There was something in the resulting sound I wanted to pay attention to, but the phone in my hand was ringing insistently, demanding I answer.

“Hello.”

“Lacey, is that you?” It was Michel.

“Yes.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m at the store.”

I counted to three in the space of silence that followed. “Then you know.”

“Yes.”

“Lacey, listen to me very carefully. I need your help. It has all the bones now, but the spell isn’t working. It needs the harp.”

“What are you talking about?”

His voice hardened. “Don’t play games. I know all about the harp of Binnorie. It’s the only reason your life was spared over my aunt’s—the creature knew it might need you. You have to bring the harp to Marie Laveau’s tomb or Li Grand Zombi will kill me!”

The old Lacey would have run to help a friend, even an acquaintance, but this Lacey was watching Ava roam aimlessly through the store.

“Tell me first what you did to Ava.”

There was another pause. “We don’t have time for this.”

“Fine. I’m going to hang up now.”

“No! Wait! I didn’t do it to hurt her. With how she took down Bel, I knew she was capable of protecting you if it came down to a choice between you and my aunt. I just needed to take Ava out of the equation to give my aunt a fighting chance. Obviously, it didn’t matter in the end.”

Cold settled into my spine as I understood that Michel had deliberately sabotaged Ava, my only support system in the city once the White Lady was dead, to protect his aunt. Something ached in the back of my throat and along my jawline. “How did you know about that? I never told you how Bel saved us from the vampire.”

A third pause, the longest of the three. “Ava did while you were talking to my aunt. We don’t have time for this. Please, Lacey, I’m dead if you don’t come.”

I relented. “Where are you now?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just be at Marie Laveau’s tomb by sundown. Bring Ava and I promise I’ll undo what I did to her after I’m safe.” The phone went dead.

I looked at the others, but Bel waved any explanation away. “Excellent hearing is a universal hallmark of all supernaturals. So, the creature has the ingredients for the spell, but doesn’t know how to use them. Interesting. It’s either the most incompetent evil mastermind ever born, or this is a trap. What’s so special about this spell anyway that it needs so much magical firepower?”

It was Chloe that answered him. “That’s what I’ve been asking myself this whole time. Li Grand Zombi wants to bring Baron Samedi permanently into this world, and now we find a painting of the Baron with a familiar face on it.”

Bel frowned. “Cernunnos?”

The girl’s smile was small and cold. “Buddy, you need to spend more time on the internet instead of at raves, or at least pay attention to Morgause when she’s in a chatty mood. He’s to be called Merlin now. The bones of three witches are going to be used to create a spell to bring the Baron though the Gates of Guinee. What if it’s not a gate? What if it’s a wall?

“What are you talking about, girl? Cernu- . . .  Merlin created the Wall Between Worlds. Why would he need help to cross it?”

“Here’s another update—it’s a lie that he created the Wall. The Lady of the Lake trapped him in Avalon. He can appear here briefly, but he’s a prisoner there. Obviously he’s been manipulating this Li Grand Zombi creature to somehow bring him across.”

I looked back at the painting. “So now he’s Baron Samedi too? How many names does this guy have?”

Bel snorted. “He’s the Lord of the Grey Lands of Avalon. That place also has many names, including Hades and Sheol—it’s basically the underworld of every culture on Earth—so why not its master? But what I don’t understand is if Merlin is trapped behind the Wall, how did the artist of that painting capture his likeness so well?”

“Let’s find out. Take it down,” I commanded.

“Take it down yourself, little witch,” he muttered, but obeyed anyway, placing the painting on the front counter. The ball of fire followed it and hovered above.

Chloe pointed. “There.” The scrawled signature was easy to read: Claire Benoit.

“She lied to us,” I stated the obvious.

Ava had wandered over to look. “She’s a liar.” There was something strange in her voice. I didn’t know if she’d been getting worse, or if I’d just thought differently of her once I knew she’d been spelled, but the intensity of her zombie-like behavior had seemed to increase. There was something in her voice now that was more like my roommate.

“Ava?” I asked tentatively. I thought I caught a flicker of response in her eyes, but then she looked down and shambled away.

Chloe ran her finger over the painted name. “Claire—the woman who was attacked, right? Was it just an act?”

“She’s working for the other side.”

The girl looked around. “Then why is the painting here? If she knew the Voodoo Queen well enough to give her a painting, maybe she was on her side.”

Something didn’t add up. Claire Benoit was connected to all of them—the White Lady, the Voodoo Queen, and Li Grand Zombi—and yet she somehow knew Merlin’s face well enough to paint it as Baron Samedi’s.

I shook my head. It didn’t matter. My only choice was to leave Ava as she was, or to help Michel so he would take the spell off her.

It took me longer than it should have to make that decision.

I turned to the red-haired man and his young companion. “Will you help me?”

Bel’s eyes were like smoldering embers. “With the bones of three powerful witches, this creature is in possession of a very dangerous weapon. Of course we’ll help you,” he replied gallantly as he made a flourish with his arms. The ball of fire disappeared.

Chloe was staring at him like he’d grown another head. “Um, yeah, what he said.”

I put my phone away in my bag. “Thank you. We have a couple of hours before the sun sets, and there’s something I need to do first. Will you meet me at the cemetery when it’s time? And can you keep Ava with you? Thanks.” I didn’t wait for them to actually agree. Picking up my things, I hurried out the door and down the street.

I slipped into the third open doorway I found and hid behind a rack draped with Mardi Gras beads and carnival masks. Watching the street through the eyehole of one of the masks, I didn’t have to wait long. Bel was striding down the street, looking up and down—obviously looking for me. Chloe grabbed him by the arm. Shaking her off, he spat out what looked like some very colorful language as he hailed a cab. Ava followed them into the vehicle.

“Can I help you, chère?

I whirled around. An older man in a wife-beater shirt and brown cap was frowning down at me. It took me a moment to realize I was running my hands across the purple and gold beads, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth . . ..

Even though he was staring at me, I couldn’t stop myself from running my hand over the necklaces one last time to complete another set of three. Once I finished, I had control over my body again.

The man’s face hardened. “Are you going to buy something or not?”

I nodded. “Sorry, yes.” While my body had been on auto-pilot, my mind had decided on something. “I’d like three of these necklaces please.”

I paid for the garish beads, declining the bag the man offered as I shoved them into the pocket of my sweater. My fingers brushed against the little Voodoo doll. It was strangely comforting.

Needing somewhere to go to work, I made my way down to Decatur, near the river, where the striped green and white awning of a coffee shop beckoned. I ordered some beignets and orange juice and found an empty table as far from the street as possible. The place was busy; the customers created a living wall that hid me from the world.

Taking a bite of one of the square, puffy donuts, and coughing a little as some of the powdered sugar went down my throat, I popped open the laptop on the table. I started searching the files on the hard drive, but the Crone’s naming system made no sense to me at all. I was about to give up when something familiar caught my eye. When I clicked on it, the spell that opened was the one the Crone and I had used to bind Melusine’s spirit and warp it into a dragon.

I didn’t understand everything until after the Crone was dead. Most powerful magic users have spies to keep an eye on their rivals. The Crone used owls which she imbued with supernatural power. They must have told their tale to someone because it was on the Darknet only a few days later. Freed from the bitter infection of the Crone’s spirit, I slowly began to understand the events that had rocked the world of magic, and my true part in them. But even then, pride kept me from going to Rhi and asking her forgiveness, though the horror of how I’d almost unleashed a dragon on the world haunted my dreams.

As I read through the words of the spell, intuition sparkled on the edges of my mind, but I couldn’t quite grasp it. I minimized that spell and opened one called Three-fold.

My left hand tapped a drum beat on the marble counter. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. The words swam in front of my eyes: three-fold goddesses, three ages of man, three great sorrows, three elements contained in the body and bound by the spirit, three colors from which all other colors spring, bad luck comes in threes, third time’s the charm—the list went on. But it was the last passage that made my breath catch and time stand still: three Paths.

I hadn’t seen everything Rhi and Peter had seen. I hadn’t been taught by Taliesin. I’d had to study and scrape, scouring the Darknet for information, but that was OK because I was used to climbing to the top of the class all on my own. I knew about the Paths. The Crone didn’t like using them, and I’d never been on one, but I understood them.

The Paths were the remnants of ancient magical byways that had been created by the sentient world forest at the dawn of time. As the forest lost its consciousness, the magic of the Paths faded until only those born with the gift knew how to travel them. But according to this, all the Paths were only the branching tributaries of three main arteries: the Path of Time, the Path of Destiny, and the Path of Life and Death.

I read on eagerly. Only the most powerful of magic users could find these three great Paths, let alone access them. The Path of Time allowed one to view the past or the future, though there were rumors that some could actually travel them. No one knew the meaning of the Path of Destiny, but magic users were warned in dark terms to never try to find it. The Path of Life and Death was the most sought after, and over the centuries, its known entrances had actually been recorded.

I closed the lid of the laptop carefully, and wrapped my hands around my glass of juice, letting the condensation cool my fingers. For once, the frantic count of threes in the back of my mind was silent.

St. Louis Cemetery No. 1—New Orleans’ City of the Dead—contained one of those entrances.

I lifted the glass and gulped down some juice, letting the sugar revitalize me. As I watched the sun fade, I’d never felt so still in my life. I was perfectly balanced on the edge of a knife; I could feel the sharpness, but it wasn’t cutting me. Yet.

I’d always forced things—excellence at school, achievement in every arena, even making myself into a witch, though my natural talent was small—but now I’d found a place of perfect calm. I was the Maiden. The Crone had told me I would know it, and I did. I just wasn’t sure what it meant.

A snippet of one of the Crone’s spells teased my mind and I closed my eyes to fix it in my memory:

I have loved thee three times thirty.

I have loved thee nine times nine.

I’d been hollow, empty for so long. Magic couldn’t fill me. Only love could. Sighing, I opened my eyes. Unfortunately, the only love left in me was for a dead brother, and for a boy who didn’t return my feelings.

I put the laptop away; if there was something in it that explained what Li Grand Zombi intended, I couldn’t find it. The top of the breastbone frame gleamed in the dying light. I longed to take the harp out and touch the strings made of golden hair, but my time had run out. Hurrying into the bathroom, I changed out of my jean skirt and into black leggings that I tucked into my low-heeled boots. Belting my black sweater tighter over my white t-shirt, the next phrase of the Crone’s spell came to me.

Caught between heaven and earth,

Only a white dress and a dark cloak cover me.

Pulling out some makeup and a hairbrush, I began to prepare myself as if I were getting ready to go on stage. When I finished, my hair gleamed dully against the dark of my sweater, and my eyes were shadowed and mysterious—a mask to hide behind.

Catching a cab, I was at the gate of the cemetery within ten minutes. I waited for the driver to move on before I went down the side street to where the wall was lower and crumbling. It was harder without someone to help me, but after a couple of tries, I finally made it onto the top of the wall. Sliding down the roof of the nearest tomb, I landed with a thud and fell to one knee. As my bag hit the ground, the harp cried out with a sound like a woman who’d been hit. I froze, but nothing followed.

I had to keep moving. It wasn’t completely dark yet and I hoped to reach Marie Laveau’s tomb before Michel and Li Grand Zombi did.

When we were looking for somewhere to summon the dragon inside Melusine, the Crone had taught me that a place with no given name to bind it allowed magic to flow easier. Unfortunately, the cemetery’s name was well known and fixed. But the Crone had also taught me the spell to find areas where magic is closer to the surface, such as the location of the entrance to a Path. I didn’t know any way to access that spell without blood magic, so I picked up a loose piece of brick on the ground and cut my palm with the edge of it.

There were only a few drops of blood gathered on my palm, but I was looking for subtlety. “In the time before time, there arose a creature without flesh or bone, veins or blood, head or feet. It will not be older, and it will not be younger, than it was at the beginning.” I blew the drops of blood from my palm. They were caught and lifted by the breeze I’d conjured. Ignoring the sudden ache in my bones, and the slight burn on my skin that told me the mark of a spell had returned, I followed the blood that glistened in the dying light. I expected them to lead me to Marie Laveau’s tomb, but instead they took a turn and stopped.

The drops of my blood separated into a fine mist and fell to the ground in front of the empty tomb created in the shape of a smooth-sided pyramid.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A CONFRONTATION

“It’s a good trick, isn’t it, hiding one of the Gates of Guinee in that monstrosity.” I whirled around to find Claire Benoit standing behind me. “It used to look appropriately monumental, but it was too obvious. Adelaide had it changed a few years ago and started the rumor it belonged to some Hollywood actor.”

My heart was beating, but now was not the time to break character, so I forced a smile. “I suppose no one knows the Gates of Guinee are really the entrances to Paths either.”

“Not just any Paths, but I think you know that already. Your transcripts said you were bright, but that’s not the reason I expedited your transfer to Westover Academy. I expect you know that too.”

“You brought me here for this spell.”

She tossed a long black braid of hair over one shoulder. “You weren’t even trying to conceal your digital footprint. When I saw you nosing around the Darknet looking for a witch-friendly school, it was easy to create a few false online identities to push you this way. I’d already heard about the Crone and her role in Arthur’s rising. I put two and two together and figured it was a safe bet that you were her heir. Now there were finally enough powerful witches within my grasp to give me what I wanted.”

Something didn’t quite add up. “When Morgause warned the White Lady that someone was looking for the bones of three witches, you already had three witches right here in New Orleans.”

Her eyes narrowed into slits, green gleaming through her lids. “As if the Seer of New York cares about what happens to a few witches! She was just sticking her delicate little nose down here because she wants the same thing I do.”

“So why did you need me to come to New Orleans?”

“Why did I need you? I’ll let you in on a well-kept secret—Adelaide wasn’t a witch. The fearsome Queen of New Orleans Voodoo was a fraud. All the magic of her line went to her nephew. He should have been the first Voodoo King in a hundred years, but instead, Adelaide used him to create the illusion of having power.”

I picked a smile that said I was confident and not the least bit frightened. “So Michel is the Voodoo King and you’re Li Grand Zombi.”

Claire moved towards me in a strange, slinking motion. “Not exactly. The title is masculine, not feminine. My great-grandfather served Marie Laveau as a symbol of Dhamballa incarnate. He was her loyal assassin. He even allowed her to bind him and all his descendants as eternal servants to each Voodoo Queen. I suppose the Crone taught you that the wording of spells must be painfully exact. Even though she had no power, Adelaide was still the Voodoo Queen, and I was bound to her until her death released me.”

“So you killed her.”

Her smile was almost a caricature of evil. “I couldn’t. The binding would never have let me.” She gestured and Michel stepped out of the shadow of a tomb.

I felt sick. “You killed her? You did . . .” I couldn’t speak of the brutality of it. “You did that to your own aunt?”

Michel shook his head. “It was quick. I would never have made her suffer. I couldn’t tell how powerful you were, and you slipped me by taking Ava to Morgause’s people. I didn’t want to tangle with Bel, so I left the mess to convince you that Li Grand Zombi had the third set of bones. I knew you would come, even if only to help Ava, and I’d heard enough about Bel to expect you would come alone.”

Remembering the surprised look that Chloe gave Bel when he offered to help, I wondered if Michel was right.

“And the White Lady? It was a good act, Michel. I really believed you were as shocked as I was.”

He glanced at Claire before answering. “I was. It was the first time I’d ever seen . . .” He swallowed. “It was a terrible thing, but it had to be done. All of it.”

“Why?”

Claire gestured impatiently, but Michel seemed to want me to understand. “It wasn’t fair. I had the power, but I was forced to pretend I was Adelaide’s clerk, her personal chef, her errand boy! My own mother convinced me that New Orleans would never accept a Voodoo King. I used my magic to prop up Adelaide’s reign and accepted it as my family duty until I saw how she treated Claire, how she turned a magnificent creature into a killer for hire. I couldn’t bear it. I had to free her.” Claire reached for him and he took her hand.

“You jerk!”

He looked at me in surprise. “What?”

“You made Ava think you liked her!”

The bokur laughed. “You and the girl are children to those of my kind.”

Claire pulled her hand away, frowning. “What is she talking about?”

Michel shrugged. “It’s nothing, chère. I just pretended to be attracted to the girl to get closer to her. She’s strong; she had to be neutralized before we advanced on the Maiden.”

While their attention was on one another, I pulled the harp out and brushed my hand against the strings.

The harp of Binnorie sings with the voice of a drowned girl trapped in an instrument made from her body. It sang my name once and made me its keeper, but this time, the harp communicated to me in a wave of pure thought. My own thoughts were corrupted by the disease of my OCD. When the harp entered my mind, I was healed. I had no memory of actual words, but when the harp was done, I knew the truth.

“You made a deal,” I whispered.

When she turned to stare at me, the look on Claire’s face was naked, suffering. Without warning, her skin rippled, and the impression of scales stood out in relief on her body. “I can’t control it anymore. It takes over and I have no choice; I have to obey. I become a thing, not a person. Even now that Adelaide’s dead, her supporters are gathering. They’ll keep turning me into a monster against my will until the day I die! The Gates—the Paths—have a leeching effect on my power. Here I’m less of a slave to the creature inside.” She turned and touched Michel’s face gently. “Here I fell in love.” He cupped her hand with his own, but she sighed and pulled away. When she looked back at me, her pupils were long and narrow.

“It was also here that Merlin appeared to me. I knew him as Baron Samedi, and it took a long time for me to trust him, to believe his promise to free me from the curse of my power if I freed him from his exile. He was the one who told me how to remove the protection spell on Marie Laveau’s tomb. I’m bound by all the queens, even the dead ones, so I offered the vampire an unlimited supply of victims if he would paint over the witch marks on the tomb and break the spell.”

“Is that why you sent him to kill me? To get my bones for you?”

The woman shrugged, powerful muscles running under her shoulders. “The vampire was a lurker. He must have heard me talking about you with Merlin and decided to go after you himself.”

“So what’s the deal then? You set Merlin free, and then what do you get out of it?”

“The way to the Grey Lands of Avalon is through the Path of Destiny. The Wall Between Worlds demands a balance. Merlin can’t come through unless I take his place.”

Michel looked at her in shock. “What?”

She kept her gaze fixed on mine. “You know the lore, don’t you, witch? All of us cursed with immortal power trace our ancestry back to that place. Here, our abilities are enhanced. But in our true home, we can live like normal people. I don’t want to be this thing anymore.” Her eyes were suffering, pleading.

“If Merlin comes through the Wall, there’ll be war, you know that.”

She shook her head and it wobbled on a neck that had grown thicker and longer. “War is already here. This will just put the players in place a little faster. Besides, what does it matter to you? You already tried to raise a dragon for Merlin.”

The calm the harp had placed in my mind was fraying. I fought the urge to count in sets of threes, to turn around three times, to carve X’s into the tombs around me.

Claire’s head darted forward and the rest of her body contracted and lengthened, her clothing sliding off and falling to the ground. “Don’t fight it,” she hissed as her arms and legs were absorbed into a massive, snake-like form. Only her face remained, balanced obscenely on top of her sinuous length.

Michel continued to stare at her. “You’re leaving me? After all I’ve done for you?”

She ignored the question. “Michel, the girl. Now!”

The bokur never took his eyes off Claire, but he gestured, and Ava shambled out of the darkness. “Zombie!” he yelled. “Do what you were made for.” I tried to run, but Ava was too fast. She pulled me back and pinned my arms behind me.

Claire sighed. “Thank you, my love.” Then she lunged and swallowed Michel whole.

CHAPTER TWELVE

AN UNDERSTANDING

Somewhere in the world there was still love and laughter, hope and understanding. Somewhere in this very city, there were Christmas trees that hadn’t been taken down yet and families gathered together in the warm afterglow of the season. Somewhere there was light—there had to be—but here, all the light had been swallowed like an Ouroboros swallows its tail.

Powerful muscles contracted along the great snake’s body as it digested Michel. Watching, I felt like I was floating above myself again. One, two, three—there goes one layer of Michel. One, two, three—there goes another. I laughed and I could hear the edge of crazy in it. The shock of it brought me back to myself.

It took a long time for the bokur to die. I knew the exact moment because Ava let go of me and fell to the ground. When the creator of a spell dies, so does the spell itself. Only truly powerful beings like Rhi’s mother could create a spell that would last beyond death.

When Claire’s lips peeled back and her jaw unhinged, I knew what was coming, but couldn’t look away. She disgorged what was left of Michel on the ground between us. Then I disgorged the beignet I’d eaten earlier.

But Claire wasn’t done. Another heave and out they all came, all the bones she’d collected and somehow magically internalized in her human form.

I wiped my mouth on my sleeve. “Why?”

She sighed softly as she slipped her jaw back into place. “He loved me, but he would never have let me leave, and I can’t bear this life anymore. I thought Adelaide would have pity on me when she learned how much her nephew loved me. Instead, she tightened her hold on both of us. Because of my grandfather’s oath, she could make me do whatever she wanted, even kill myself. She used that threat to keep Michel in line.” The contrast of her beautiful face bobbing on the body of a monster made the entirety more horrific. “I went to work for the White Lady to see if she could help, but the woman was more interested in surrounding herself with stupid school girls to replace her dead daughter. Her sentimentality was her undoing. When she bound herself to protect me against all threats, she rendered herself incapable of attacking me when I came to kill her.  For all her power, she never knew what I was until the very end. She never knew I was a slave.” Claire’s voice broke off in a deep sob.

The old Lacey might have felt sorry for her. Claire had obviously suffered. She was also obviously more than a little insane. But there was no pity in my heart, and I knew, finally, that the old Lacey was gone forever. “Are we done here? You have your third set of bones. You don’t need me.”

She slithered towards me through the mess of flesh and bone and vomit, tears glistening on her face and running off the green scales of the neck of her true body. “But I do. I need you to perform the spell. Besides, Merlin wants you. He even made it a condition of accepting my offering. There’s a risk to a spell like this. If something happens to me on the other side, Merlin will be weakened. He may even become trapped again. He agreed on the condition that I give you over to him. He knows you’re the Crone’s heir. He has plans for you.”

It felt as if someone had injected ice water into the veins in my neck, and I shoved my hands in my pockets to stop them from shaking. Grasping the little Voodoo doll, I held it tight in my right fist. “I don’t know the spell.”

“Just because the Wall keeps Merlin from coming here permanently, doesn’t mean he can’t break through for a short time. He has eyes and ears everywhere.” Claire was close enough to strike now. Backing up, I nearly tripped over Ava’s unconscious form. She moaned a little, but didn’t move. “For example, he knows all about the laptop Morguase gave you. The spell will surely be in there, chère.” The word was all wet sibilance.

When I didn’t move, she reared up and hissed, her tongue flicking at me as her teeth disappeared into the flesh of her gums and two needle-sharp fangs replaced them. “Do it!”

I let go of the Voodoo doll in my pocket and pulled my hands out. They were steady now. As I retrieved the laptop from my bag, I deliberately brushed the harp with my fingers, but there was no sound from it at all. It was a bad sign if even the harp of Binnorie didn’t want to be heard. Sitting down cross-legged beside Ava, I turned on the computer, hoping the sound of the machine booting up might start to wake her.

As I looked through the files, Claire began to clean up the human waste she’d disgorged, brushing what was useless off the path with her long tail, and gathering the bones with her mouth. When I glanced up, the ground between us was clear, and the bones were arrayed like an altar in front of the pyramid tomb. Claire was draped across them, watching me with glittering eyes.

I swallowed, just once, surprised at my own control. “This might take a while.” She didn’t speak, and her eyes drooped as if she were too weary to respond.

I was lying; I knew the spell she wanted. It was the same one the Crone had planned to use to bring Merlin to this world, but not until she had the gift of the dragon Melusine to appease his anger. Even if they traded places and she was trapped behind the Wall, the Crone wasn’t sure it would keep him from returning to Avalon, and she’d originally supported Morgana and Arthur in their war against him. But after long years, my mentor was just like Claire—she wanted to go home.

Claire hissed impatiently and I knew I’d delayed too long. “I found it.” Covering my action by standing, I hit Ava with the back of my heel, hard. This time, she stirred and her eyelids fluttered as she began to come to.

As I approached Claire on her altar of bones, I could feel their collective power. The Crone wouldn’t have needed them to perform the spell, but I would. Putting down the laptop, I angled the screen so I could see it.  Stretching out my right hand, I held it cupped over Claire’s head as I recited the words on the screen:

From the Triads of Tara—

These are the three candles

That illuminate every darkness:

Truth, nature, knowledge.

One by one, the marks of power on the bones began to appear—silver swirls on the White Lady’s, etchings of rust on Marie Laveau’s, and charcoal printing all over Michel’s. I didn’t recognize the symbols on the women’s bones, but I could see a word here and there in the jumble of Michel’s. I wished that I could stop and investigate, but Claire was watching me closely, venom dripping from her fangs. I continued:

These are the three aids of theft:

The dark forest, the long cloak,

And the deep night.

The symbols flared once—white light, a reddish haze, a swirl of darkness—and then disappeared. Except they weren’t gone; they were in me.

The pain was excruciating. I fell to my knees. Shards of bone on the ground cut through my leggings into my skin, and my blood strengthened the spell. I wanted to scream, wanted to throw back my head and howl, but I didn’t dare make a sound that wasn’t in the spell. After an eternity of ten or twenty seconds, the pain subsided to a dull ache, and I knew that if someone were to cut me open right at that moment, my bones would be covered in marks of silver, rust, and charcoal.

I stood gingerly. I was ripe to almost bursting with spells—with power—and I didn’t doubt their ability to burst me open quite literally.

Claire had raised herself up on her bed of bones and her face was level with mine, swaying slightly with eyes like green fire. “You have the power of the bones,” she hissed. “Speak the spell!”

“You asked for it,” I muttered.

The gift of the Maiden was the violence of new growth, the blossoming of young love, and the rising of the sun that melts the snows of winter. It was the gift of transformation and the possibility of creation.

These are the three slender things that support the world:

The slender stream of fresh milk into the pail,

The slender blade of green corn emerging from the ground,

And the slender thread in the hand of a skillful woman.

While my hand was in my pocket, I’d unwound the three hairs from the neck of the little Voodoo doll. As the power of three witches drained from my bones and concentrated in my cupped palm, the hairs twisted and grew until they became a shining cord.

Comprehension dawned in Claire’s face, but I was too fast. I threw the cord around her neck and grasped both ends, crossing them and pulling tight. Arms wide and muscles straining, I screamed the last line of the spell:

I bind you by the three marks of a wise maiden:

A steady voice, a steady heart,

And a steady hand!

I had to pull the cord tighter as Claire returned to her smaller, human form, but she was now mine to command. She looked at me with eyes bright with tears. “And now I’ve traded one slavery for another.”

I was tempted to bind Claire to my will the same way Adelaide had. The old Lacey was a good girl with a heart of darkness who became a witch. Maybe the new Lacey—maybe I—wasn’t exactly a good little girl anymore, but I could still decide what color my heart was going to be. The Maiden’s cord would protect me from Claire; I didn’t need to make her suffer.

Before I could loosen my grip, there was a flash of light so bright that I closed my eyes instinctively, stumbling as the cord went slack. When I opened my eyes, Claire was gone, and all that remained of her was shining ash scattered among the bones.

“Be a good girl and step away from the bones, Maiden.” Bel was illuminated by the flames dancing in his hand. I looked around for Chloe, but the man was alone. When Ava groaned and pushed herself upright, Bel called fire into his other hand and pointed it at her. “I don’t want to hurt either of you, but I will if I have to.”

One thing the Crone didn’t need to teach to me was that spells are so specific that if any element is missing, if even one word is out of place, they will fail. As head cheerleader, as a singer proud of my perfect pitch, as an A plus student, I understood that kind of exactness and discipline.

I grabbed one of the bones on the ground and ran.

Heat singed my heels and I changed direction, darting between the tombs. With his long legs, Bel was gaining on me fast, and I could feel that another burst of flame was heading my way. Pulling the Voodoo doll out of my pocket, I twisted around and threw it at Bel, and then changed direction. Michel had said it would protect me against spells cast my way. I was gratified to hear an outraged yelp as the flame turned on its master. Slipping between structures that Bel had no hope of getting through, I was thankful for my five foot one frame and the pounds I’d lost while serving the Crone.

I reached Marie Laveau’s tomb. Tearing the three Mardi Gras necklaces from my neck, I let the green, gold, and purple beads fall to the ground among the other offerings to the great Voodoo Queen. Using the bone in my hand—one of Marie’s own by the rust-colored marks on it—I gouged three X’s through the pink paint and deep into the ancient plaster. Tearing away the police tape on the side of the structure—and hoping that the bodies of the vampire’s victims had already been retrieved—I dropped the bone through the opening in the wall of the tomb.

I ran back to the front and turned around three times crying, “Marie Laveau! Grant my wish! Take this bone from your own body and keep it safe for all eternity!”

The ground heaved and I fell. When I tried to stand, a ring of fire sprang from the ground, melting the scattered beads. Bel had found me. As he looked at me though the flames with the face of an angry god, I was truly terrified. He’d wanted the power of the bones for himself. There would be no mercy.

Without warning, the flames disappeared. As I watched in surprise, Bel jerked strangely and then crumpled to the ground. Ava stood behind him, swaying unsteadily, holding the bloodied laptop in her hands.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A DECISION

“Ava? Are you all right?” She looked at me with dazed eyes, clutching the laptop to her chest, but nodded yes.

Chloe stepped out from behind Ava, breathing quickly; she looked like she’d been running. She nudged Bel with her foot, but he didn’t move. “Two for two,” she murmured as she scraped her tattered blonde hair behind her ears. The pale skin on one cheek was marred by a red and purple bruise. “Sorry it took me so long to get here. He gave me the slip back in town.” She touched her face and winced.

I stood. “What are we going to do when he wakes up?”

The girl fished around in the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a gold ring. It was open in the middle and covered in twisting symbols similar to the ones that had marked my skin. She slipped it on Bel’s index finger.

“That’s it? That’ll hold him?”

“Until we get back to New York. The ring has a binding spell on it with an added compulsion to return home immediately—just a little bit of insurance I picked up on the magic black market when Bel wasn’t looking. He’s been twitchy ever since Arthur woke up. I guess he saw his chance to grab power in that new world order he’s always going on about.” Chloe smirked at me. “He’s not that bad once you get used to him, but I’m going to make him regret ever laying a finger on me. He works for me, not the other way around. I guess I’m going to have to remind him of that.”

Ava was blinking rapidly as she became fully awake and aware of her surroundings. “What’s going on? How did I get here?”

Chloe turned to face the tomb suddenly, as if something had caught her eye. The girl’s face was as expressionless as ever, but she took a quick step back and grabbed Ava’s arm. “C’mon, I’ll tell you all about it while we get out of here.” Ava tried to move towards me, but Chloe pulled her away. “Lacey’s got a little cleanup to do. She’ll be along in a minute” She nudged Bel again with her foot. “Bel! Get up and follow me!” Even though the man still seemed unconscious, he shambled to his feet. Chloe looked at me intently and jerked her chin in the direction of the tomb, before leading them away.

Puzzled, I turned, and my heart leaped in my chest when I saw the woman standing there. The light from the moon and the street combined to illuminate her face like a spotlight. Her skin was like Claire’s—coffee mixed with cream—and strands of dark, curling hair peeked out from underneath a white headdress.

Marie Laveau.

The spirit nodded as if she could hear my thoughts. “You’ve performed the magic well, petite, and I’ve granted your wish. And since you protected my bones from being used in a dark spell, I’ll grant you one more—the true wish of your heart.”

Fascinated, I took a step closer; she looked as real and solid as any living being. “Is your tomb one of the gates?”

“Yes, chère, though the gates were here long before this place was built. There are seven Gates of Guinee in N’awlins. They lead to Paths, as your kind call them. The first four have been lost, but the last three are scattered in this grand repository of mortal remains. They lead to the Path of Destiny, the Path of Time, and the Path of Life and Death. While there are entrances to these Paths in other places of the world, the magic is strongest here.”

“A descendent of your Li Grand Zombi was trying to reach the Path of Destiny. She was trying to trade places with Merlin in Avalon.”

The spirit laughed and the sound was warm and rich. “Ah, that man! So in love with his names and disguises. I called him Baron Samedi in my youth, though perhaps you know that. Let me tell you something that may aid you in the future. There are none alive who have heard his true name, just as Avalon is not the true name of his land. Find his true name, if you can, and you will have power over him.”

Bending down gracefully, Marie Laveau picked up a bead that had escaped Bel’s fire. It glistened gold between her fingers, gleaming like a fine gem. “The horned god lies in wait at the end of the Path of Destiny like a spider. Whatever its true purpose once was, he has corrupted it. I preserve the entrances to the other two. Perhaps, one day, someone will find the four that are lost. Till then, I hold the balance. That balance was almost lost today.” She blew on the bead and both she and it disintegrated and vanished, though her voice still echoed through the City of the Dead. “I hear your true wish, chère. As mistress of the gate to the Path of Life and Death, I answer it.”

I put up my hands to protect my face as a gust of wind swirled debris and dead leaves into the air. The wind died as suddenly and completely as it began, and the stillness was broken by a small voice behind me.

“CeeCee?”

The ache of coming tears began at the back of my jaw and travelled down the sides of my neck into my chest. When he was first learning to talk, my brother couldn’t say his L’s, so he called me CeeCee instead. Stephen, Stephen, Stephen, my heart cried silently as I turned.

“CeeCee?” Stephen whispered again.

My legs lost all feeling and I dropped to my knees in front of my little brother. He wasn’t wearing the black pants and stiff white shirt they’d dressed him in to put him in the ground. He had on his favorite t-shirt with the rip in the collar, and the grey shorts with the white stripe that he always insisted on wearing inside, even in winter. Clutched in one hand was a green plastic dinosaur.

“Stephen, Stephen, Stephen!” I cried, shuffling forward and throwing my arms around him. I could feel him, though he was strangely insubstantial, like he was made of vibrating air. Still, it was something. “I’ve missed you so much!” The tears flowed down my face, taking the ache with them.

He pulled away, laughing and pushing his long bangs out of his eyes. “I know! I hear you calling me all the time. Stephen, Stephen, Stephen,” he mimicked me.

He grinned and put his hand on my cheek, something he did even when he was a toddler. His hand wasn’t warm or cold, but I could still feel its gentle pressure.

“You can hear me?” I whispered.

He rolled his eyes. “All the time. Even when I’m playing with Granny.”

My breath caught in my throat. Granny was my mom’s grandmother. She’d died when I was around Stephen’s age, before he was even born.

“You see Granny?”

The question seemed to upset him, and he dropped his hand. Big, round eyes looked at me uncertainly. Mom always said that he had Granny’s eyes; I could see it now.

I brushed the hair back from his forehead with trembling fingers; it was like touching down so fine that it left almost no impression on my skin. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you glad to see me? I’ve missed you so much.”

He glanced over his shoulder and frowned. “But Granny will be wondering where I am. We play together every day. She’ll be worried if I don’t come back soon.” He backed away towards the tomb.

A fist grabbed my heart. “Please! Don’t go! Stay with me. I love you, Stephen. Nothing’s been right since you went away.”

Then Stephen gave me that wonderful smile that always put a dimple in his right cheek; the smile that captured my heart when he was only a week old. Everyone says that newborns can’t really smile—that it’s just a reflex—but he did, when I held him. It was a kind magic between us.

I was grinning and crying at the same time as he ran back to me. Catching him up in my arms, I held him close—as close as if I could take him into myself and keep him with me, inside me, forever.

I knew it then, the terrible truth. I could feel something, but there was no warmth, no weight. He was real, but he wasn’t alive.

“I love you too, CeeCee. I’ll stay if you want me to.” He kissed my cheek and nestled his head under my chin, but there was only the brush of static electricity on my face.

I wanted him to stay. I wanted it so much that I felt sick with longing for it. I knew I had the power to do it too, somewhere deep in my bones where the marks of black witchcraft still lingered. I could make him stay. I could make him a part of myself to fill the hollow place in my soul. I could drag his spirit around with me for the rest of my life, denying him the joy he’d found in an Afterlife I’d doubted even existed.

I could damn us both to misery until the day I died.

The old Lacey would have done it. The Lacey who raised a dragon with the Crone would have done it too.

But I couldn’t—not to the brother I loved more than my own life. Untangling his insubstantial arms from around my neck, I kissed him on the forehead and put him down. “No, you’re right. Granny will be missing you. Will you take that kiss and give it to her? Tell her I miss her too.”

Stephen nodded. “OK, CeeCee.”

I looked up at the stars. I might be strong enough to let my little brother go back to Heaven, but I wasn’t strong enough to watch it happen.

The air was knocked out of me as something hit me around the middle. I looked down. Stephen had flung his arms around my waist and he was solid and warm. Laughing, I lifted him and hugged him tight, memorizing the feel of his soft skin and the way his floppy hair tickled my cheek. I rocked him back and forth in my arms and he wrapped his skinny little legs around me like a monkey, the way he always used to.

I heard Marie Laveau’s voice in the wind. “This was the true wish of your heart.”

She was right. All I wanted was to hold him one last time. I snuggled him close and kissed his smooth cheek. I kissed him on top of his little snub nose that was shaped just like mine. I turned a few moments into a lifetime of memories that would sustain me until the end.

Then I put him down. When I brushed the hair back from his forehead again, it was like wind running through my fingers; the magic was over.

Giving me a little wave, he turned and walked towards the tomb. When he reached the door, he looked back. Maybe it was just the tears streaming from my eyes, but his face seemed different. Through a watery mist, I thought I could almost see the man Stephen would have grown to be if Death hadn’t stolen him from me. Or maybe it was the man he really was, somewhere in a place beyond Time.

The mist thickened between us, but I could still hear his voice as it alternated between the sweet tones of childhood and the stronger ones of maturity. “Don’t cry, CeeCee. It doesn’t take any time at all. In a heartbeat, we’ll be together, forever, and then we’ll never be apart again. I promise.”

“Stephen,” I whispered, but I didn’t finish the incantation. I would never disturb his rest again.

The mist dissipated, and I was alone in a crumbling graveyard, standing in front of a bubblegum pink tomb, holding a green plastic dinosaur.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A BEGINNING

After Stephen’s spirit left me, everything was a blur. When I found my way back to the pyramid tomb, my bag was undisturbed, but the bones were gone. Even the remnants of the bokur’s human remains had disappeared. Fuzzy-headed and a little lost, I wandered through the cemetery, looking for the way out. When I stumbled upon the front entrance, the gate was open, and Ava stood on the other side holding the battered laptop. She didn’t know where Bel and Chloe had gone and wasn’t sure how she’d got there or who opened the gate. A taxi was waiting for us on the street, but when I questioned the driver as to who called him, he didn’t seem to understand English. When he dropped us off at the school, he sped away before I could give him money for the fare.

I followed Ava back to our room in the residence and collapsed onto my bed. There was nothing after that until a firm rap on the door woke me up the next morning.

Groaning, I rolled over and opened my eyes. Ava was only half awake and struggling to untangle herself from her bed sheets, so I got up and went to the door. When I opened it, a sprightly old lady even shorter than I was looked back at me. She was smiling and I could have sworn her eyes actually sparkled. I rubbed my own to clear the sleep out of them.

“Ah, Lacey McInnis—correct?”

I nodded and she peered past me into the room. “And Ava Brady, yes?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I didn’t mean to wake you, but since you’re the only girls currently on campus, I wanted to make sure you knew what had happened.”

Ava and I shared a look. “What happened?” I asked.

The woman laughed. “Oh my, you sound so serious. It’s nothing to worry about, I promise. Ms. Dalton has been offered a wonderful opportunity to head up an experimental arts school in Switzerland. It’s a great honor for her, but one of the conditions was that she leave immediately. I’m sure she would have liked to say goodbye, but there just wasn’t time. I promised to convey her well wishes to you two. Perhaps you can let the other students know when they return.”

I just stared at her as she lied to me, but I got the message. There would be no police, no murder investigation. We would participate in this pleasant fiction and no deviation from it would be permitted.

She laughed again, her apple cheeks dimpling adorably. “I’m so sorry. You have no idea who I am, do you. I’m the new headmistress. You can call me Mrs. Bell though. No ‘dean this’ or ‘headmistress that’. I’ve been on call just in case.” There was the barest hint of a tremor in her smile. “Just in case dear Elisha received the promotion she deserved.”

Something brushed against my legs. I yelped in surprise—it was a grey and white cat.

Mrs. Bell leaned down and scooped the animal into her arms. “This is Elisha’s cat William. Isn’t he a beauty? I couldn’t bear taking him to the pound so I decided to bring him here. He can belong to all of us.” The woman’s bright eyes twinkled at me over the cat’s head.

So the New Orleans coven already had a new leader. I knew it, and she knew I knew it, but apparently we were going to pretend she was just a harmless little old lady holding a fluffy cat. I was fine with that. I hadn’t decided yet whether my future plans included Westover Academy or not.

The rest of the Christmas holidays passed uneventfully. The new dean quickly put things back to normal at the school. Her office was re-carpeted and freshly painted, and a team of security guards started patrolling the grounds again. Women this time. I had my suspicions about what other skills they might possess. Even the scratched glass over the print of the Witch of Endor had been replaced, but the wall where the portrait of Elisha Dalton had hung was conspicuously bare.

Mrs. Bell was a constant presence at the school. Although she smiled merrily each time we passed in the halls, something in her eyes made me wonder if she blamed me for what happened to the White Lady. I tried to avoid her whenever I could.

She wasn’t the only one I was starting to avoid. Maybe it was because of the trauma of everything she’d experienced, but Ava was increasingly vague on the details surrounding the witch’s death. When I told her about what happened to Michel, she was curious, but nothing more. She didn’t remember having any interest in the bokur, and she thought I was joking when I said she was a zombie for a short time.

There was tension between us after that. I was relieved when a few of the senior girls returned for New Year’s Eve. They were surprised to hear about Ms. Dalton, but by the time they followed Ava through the break in the fence to attend a party at the private boy’s school across the city, the dean’s abrupt departure was forgotten. Even though the charm of my lorelei ancestry encouraged them to include me, I declined the invitation and Ava didn’t press it.

As I sat in our room, waiting for the clock to count down to midnight, I regretted not going to the party. I’d never really been good at being alone, and since my charm drew people to me, I’d rarely had to be until these last few months. I stared at the sky through the window, but I couldn’t find peace in the stars. Giving in, I picked up my phone and dialed a familiar number.

After two rings, he answered. “Hello?”

“Hi, Peter. It’s me.”

There was a pause. “Lacey?”

“Yeah,” I said softly.

Another pause. “Are you OK?”

My breath caught. I’d wanted to talk to him for so long, but I’d been afraid he would hang up, or worse, call me a monster. “I don’t know,” I answered honestly, and then the rest came out in a rush. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry about everything that happened back home. I know it doesn’t make up for any of it, and I know you can’t forgive me, but I’m sorry, I really am.”

A longer pause this time, and then Peter sighed and gave a strange little laugh. “It’s all such a mess, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” I heard people talking and music in the background. There was a two hour time difference between New Orleans and Las Vegas and I wondered if he was at a party with Miko. I stifled a swift flare of jealousy.

When he spoke again, the warmth in his voice told me he was smiling. “Do you remember last year when we went to that New Year’s party at Taylor’s house?”

“Of course.” It surprised me that he ever thought about something we did together when we were dating.

“And how she and her boyfriend got into a big fight and broke up, and you spent the whole night talking her down through the bathroom door while I watched TV? And then they were right back together the next morning.”

“I remember.”

“I’ve been thinking about that all day. That was a fun party.”

“Fun?”

He laughed. “Well, maybe not fun exactly, but eating junk food and lying on the couch watching TV while your girlfriend is helping a friend isn’t the worst way to spend New Year’s Eve.”

It took me a moment to get over the fact that he’d called me his girlfriend—something he’d never admitted to before—but I knew this wasn’t really about me.

“What’s going on, Peter?”

I knew his silences, his tones, and pauses. I’d studied him for so long, sure that we were meant to be together, that I could feel the sadness in the space between his words.

“It’s just not what I expected, that’s all. I’m not sure I fit anymore with . . . everyone.” But I knew he meant Miko. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”

My voice was harder than I intended. “Listen, there’s something else I should tell you. I had a little run in with one of Merlin’s people.”

“What? What happened?” He was all business now.

“It doesn’t matter. I took care of it. But you need to somehow find out Merlin’s true name. All the others are fakes, but his real name will give you power over him. And that’s not all. I know she’s supposed to be neutral, but I think the Seer of New York is on his side. You can’t trust her.”

“Are you sure? We’re going to see her. Taliesin thinks she can help us find Rhi’s mother.”

That surprised me, but I couldn’t forget the missing bones and how Chloe and Bel had disappeared at the same time. I didn’t know what they could do with them without the last bone safe in Marie Laveau’s tomb, but it worried me. “Just keep your guard up. And if you run into a girl called Chloe and a red-headed man called Bel, don’t believe a thing they say.”

When Peter replied, his voice was barely above a whisper, as if he didn’t want others in the room to hear him. “They’re already here.”

We stayed like that for a minute, listening to one another breathe. “Be careful,” I said finally.

“You should be here, Lacey.”

“Rhi would never accept me.”

“You’ve given us intel. That means something. I’ll talk to her.”

“I don’t belong there.”

There was a bitterness in his voice that shocked me. “None of us do.” The line went dead; he’d hung up.

I stared at the phone until the sounds from the houses on the street told me that the new year had begun. Tossing it on the bed—and ignoring the wrinkles it created on the smooth quilt—I went over to Ava’s desk and turned on her computer. Connecting with Bel’s head had done something to the hard drive in the Crone’s laptop. One of the guys throwing the party was supposed to be some kind of tech genius. Ava had taken the laptop with her to see if he could salvage anything from it. She seemed to think it was her responsibility since she was the one who’d used it as weapon, even though I reminded her that she’d done it to stop Bel from turning me to ash.

I hoped that this guy could help. Without the laptop, I couldn’t access either the spells or the little bit of money the Crone had left me. I didn’t even know the address of the mysterious house I’d inherited.

Logging into online banking, I sighed when I saw the balance on my credit card. I’d applied for it with my parents when I turned eighteen over the summer, and the plan was for me to use it for school supplies, or any emergencies, and then they would pay it off. The fact they hadn’t yet told me that the cost of Westover Academy was hurting them more than I’d realized. I promised myself that if I was able to get to the Crone’s money, I would pay them back.

I opened three more windows and pulled up the details on flights to three locations: New York, Las Vegas, and Toronto. Three choices for three paths with no clear ending in sight on any of them.

I had enough credit left to pick one.

As my fingers hesitated over the keys, they itched to bang out a rhythm in threes on the desk. I fought the urge to turn around three times. My throat ached to swallow. Numbers passed before my eyes, urging me to use them to find the right combination that would allow me to act.

I looked over at the little green dinosaur grinning at me from his perch on the shelf above my bed and my compulsions faded. I didn’t need help making my choice, because when I was faced with it, I made the hardest choice of all. This was a piece of cake.

“I love you, Stephen,” I whispered to the starry sky outside my window.

Then I pressed enter.

Lacey’s story continues in

SEALED IN SILVER

Coming July 2016

READ ON FOR AN EXCERPT FROM

THE BAD LUCK WITCH

A new paranormal mystery series with a dash of romance - Available May 2016

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{ 1 }

Kilkeel, Maine

It was just my luck.

Pitch black and still a couple of miles outside of Kilkeel, Maine, my beloved Ford Mustang finally decided to give up the ghost. Thankful for small mercies—since I knew they were the only ones I was likely to receive—I managed to pull over into a deserted parking lot before the car shuddered to a stop. Gripping the wheel hard, I had to admire my own restraint for not screaming obscenities at the top of my lungs. There was no point protecting my voice anymore, but I was pretty sure that if I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop. After eleven and a half hours of driving, I was worn out to the bone, and sitting there in the dark, with the moon glinting through the twisted shapes of unfamiliar trees, a little scared too. Taking a deep breath, I turned the key in the ignition one last, hopeless time, but after a couple of clicks, the car returned to a silence almost reproachful in its completeness.

“Sorry, baby.” I’d pushed the car too hard, and extensive experience had taught me that any repair would be complicated and expensive. Ten years old and suspiciously cheap, the Mustang had been an impulse buy; its red leather interior had seduced me into overlooking the 280,000 kilometers already clocked. I could have bought a new car for everything I’d spent on keeping this one on the road.

Miles, remember? Better get used to using the local lingo.

There was no point in just sitting there. Getting out, I stretched hard, joints popping, and looked around. There wasn’t much to see.

“So this is Maine, huh? Not exactly happening city.”

I’d packed everything I owned into the ridiculously small trunk of my car and turned my back on the only home I’d ever known in Toronto, Canada to cross the border and make the long journey to Kilkeel, Maine. It was a strange kind of homecoming. This was where I was born twenty-four years ago, almost to the day. Well, not right in Kilkeel, but at the hospital in the next largest town over. According to Wikipedia—the first thing I’d checked after receiving the letter that had changed my life—the population of Kilkeel was only about three thousand, though tourists flocking to the coast increased that number during the summer. My mom had grown up here, though Amelia Mason had never been back even once since she went north to Canada after I was born.

Shivering, I opened up the trunk and fished out a coat from one of my bags. I’d left behind an unusually warm October in Toronto, but here, the air was crisper. Pulling the coat on and belting it tight, I walked over to the dark building the parking lot encircled and peered in the window. If I’d had any kind of good luck at all, the place would have turned out to be a garage or something, but it was so dark that I couldn’t tell if the building was just closed, or abandoned.

Bad luck, per usual.

Well, there was no way in hades I was going to spend the night in my car with those dark windows staring at me. Retrieving my purse from the passenger seat, I returned to the trunk and pulled out my overnight bag. I’d anticipated probably having to stay over somewhere for the night, but, excited to begin a new adventure, I’d pushed through without stopping.

Fabulous idea that turned out to be.

Making sure the Mustang was locked up tight, I gave it another half affectionate, half resentful pat and began walking. I hoped the car would be safe until morning, but if someone dragged it away and left me free to collect a small payout from my insurance company, I wouldn’t complain. I should have bought a sensible automobile. Maybe a minivan. A million soccer moms couldn’t all be wrong.

As I trudged along, I could smell the ocean; it was somewhere close, hidden in the darkness. The brisk scent lifted my spirits and I picked up my pace. According to the GPS on my phone, I would soon encounter civilization—such as it was in this part of the world. On cue, houses started to pop up along the road. After a few more minutes, the first street light appeared, illuminating a purple and green Victorian monstrosity that looked like it was designed by Willy Wonka. The sign outside gave the inn some sort of a touristy, nautical name, but I barely registered it. I was too busy salivating at the thought of food, a shower, and a bed for the night, and I didn’t really care in what order.

When I stepped onto the columned porch and opened the front door, I could hear music; despite the lateness of the hour, a band was playing somewhere inside. It was good too. I could pick out at least two guitars and one banjo intertwining acoustically with a modern Celtic flair. As I entered the foyer, the song finished, followed by applause. The relative silence afterwards indicated that the set was also finished. A bit disappointed, I gave the old-fashioned bell on the reception desk a ring.

A long-haired man wearing a Grateful Dead t-shirt emerged from around a corner. “Hi there! If you were looking to hear the boys, they’re done.”

“Thanks, but I was hoping to get a room and maybe something to eat. My car broke down about a mile up the road.”

When the man bent over the computer on the desk, the light glinted off the bald spot on the top of his head. He tapped away at the keyboard for a moment. “Actually, you’re in luck. We had a last minute cancellation on our smallest room. I can only give it to you for the night though. It’s booked again tomorrow.”

“That’s great!” I replied, so surprised to encounter some good luck that I managed not to swoon when he told me the price. Pulling out my credit card, I mentally calculated whether it would cover the amount.

The man seemed to see the numbers turning over in my head. “It’s the season.” His voice was apologetic. “The rates go up as soon as the first leaf changes color. I would give you a break if I could, but I just manage the place. It’s the owner’s policy never to discount a room under any circumstance. If it’s too much, there’s another inn about a mile down the road, but I doubt it’ll be much cheaper this time of year.”

“That’s OK,” I said, but I held my breath as he swiped the card. Thankfully, the charge went through. I’d had the bad luck to have my card stolen a few months before. It had eventually all got sorted out, but there’s nothing quite like the cold shiver of embarrassment when your credit card is declined.

The man peered at the card as he typed my information into the computer. “Truly Mason—that’s an interesting name.”

Don’t say it. Don’t say it.

“Just like Truly Scrumptious in that movie with the flying car. What was it called again?”

“Chitty Chitty Bang Bang,” I said through gritted teeth. Mom had always said she’d named me after a song by Lionel Richie, but maybe she just didn’t want to admit she’d named me after a girl in a corny movie about a flying car.

“Yeah, that’s it. I loved that movie as a kid.” He retreated through a doorway behind the desk and then returned with a key and handed it to me. “Your room’s down the hall to the left, all the way at the end.”

“Thanks. Is the restaurant still serving?”

The manager motioned for me to follow him down the opposite hall. “It closed a couple of hours ago, but the pub should still have some wings and fries going, stuff like that. You’ll have to be quick though. Now that the boys have finished, it’ll be closing soon too.”

As we passed through a set of double doors, he waved over the only waitress on duty—a young woman with hair pulled into an artfully messy bun—to come and seat me. She directed me to an empty table close to the stage. I dropped my bag and purse on the floor and tossed the key onto the tabletop. Slumping down into the chair, I leaned back and looked around. Most of the other tables were full, but people were paying their bills and getting ready to leave. The band was putting its instruments away in cases.

The manager clapped one of the musicians on the shoulder on his way back out. “Nice set, Aidan.” The man murmured something in return as he eased his guitar into its case, but his back was to me and I couldn’t hear it.

The waitress pulled out a pad and pencil from the front pocket of her skintight black skirt. “You’ve got about fifteen minutes before last call. What can I get you?” Her tone bordered on hostile.

“Nothing to drink. Just whatever you have to eat that’s fast.”

“Nachos OK?”

I nodded, but the girl wasn’t looking at me. She had her eyes fixed on the man the manager had complimented. “Sure,” I said twice before I got her attention.

Making a note on her pad, she sauntered off without responding, brushing past the man who had captured her attention. She said something to him in a low voice accompanied by a coquettish smile. He shrugged, but didn’t otherwise respond. Pouting, the girl pushed through the swinging doors to the kitchen. By the way the three men on stage shared a look, the waitress’ behavior was expected.

When the object of her attention turned around to disassemble a mic stand, I totally understood why she was besotted. Tall and broad-shouldered, he was more rugged looking than was my usual preferred type, but he was definitely a lot of girls’ type. I would have cut his dark brown, slightly curling hair and shaved off the five, no, ten o’clock shadow, but there was no denying he was pretty gorgeous underneath the scruff.

As if he could feel me looking, his head swung around and our eyes met. He frowned. It was a little uncomfortable to be caught staring, but I held his gaze a moment and then glanced away, nonchalant and unconcerned. It was a free country, or so I’d heard. The man was not my type. I didn’t need to be embarrassed for just looking.

Of course, my type seemed to be the slick, handsome, cheats on his fiancée type, so the joke was probably on me.

The thought of Dylan darkened my mood even further. I couldn’t deny that part of the reason I’d jumped at the chance of a new life in Maine was to get as far as possible from my ex-fiancé and the humiliation of a wedding called off only a month before the date.

The waitress returned with a plate of over-cooked nachos and a glass of water which she slammed down onto the table, sloshing some onto the plate. I was in the mood to bite someone, anyone’s head off, but she wasn’t even looking at me. She was too consumed with smirking and posing for the guy onstage to care about what she was doing with my order, and I was too tired and hungry to send it back. Resigned, I pushed the section of wet nachos off onto the table—the mess she would have to clean up later would be my petty revenge—and began wolfing down nachos.

The waitress shimmied back over to the stage. I didn’t care if it wasn’t polite; I’d been driving for hours with only the radio as entertainment, and the scene developing in front of me was dinner theatre. Though departing patrons sometimes obscured the view, and I couldn’t hear them through the din, it was obvious what was happening. The waitress asked the musician what he was going to do now. He made a gesture that indicated he was heading out. Fiddling with her hair, she invited herself along. While his compatriots rolled their eyes, the man shook his head no. Swishing her hair over her shoulder and pouting again, looking suddenly very young, she asked why. He told her why, and whatever he said, it wasn’t well received. I wasn’t an expert lip reader or anything, but her retort appeared to contain an impressive array of expletives. Riveted, an evil part of me was enjoying the drama.

But I dropped a salsa-laden tortilla chip in my lap when the musician pointed straight at me.

“Damn!” I scooped the mess off my jeans, scrubbing at the stain with a napkin dipped in what was left of my water. By the time I’d cleaned myself up, the man had strode over to loom over me while the sulky waitress hovered behind him.

“You’re late,” he growled. “I’ve been expecting you for three days.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I grew up in a family where books about myths and legends were used to teach me the ABCs, and Irish uncles still believed in fairies. Raised with tall tales, I’ve always told stories too—first as an actor and singer, then as a photographer, and now as a writer.

I live and create in rural Ontario, Canada with my beautiful children Summer, Holly, and little Stephen, cheered on by my biggest fan, my husband Steve.

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