Neophyte / Adept (48 page)

“A jaguar,” he said.

Perfect.
It was
good luck, really, Laurinaitis being here...

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” I
said.
“Both
of you.” Their reactions
were encouraging. “I was wondering about shifting. But first, what is that
symbol you are wearing around your neck, Asher? It looks like a triangle with a
swirl inside of it.”

“Oh, this? This is the Wiccan-slash-benandanti symbol for
rebirth,” he said. “And everyone knows the pyramid is indicative of
our
people.”

“Why is a triangle that points upwards a symbol for the
benandanti?” I asked.

“It’s complicated,” said Laurinaitis, who jumped in.

I didn’t flinch, stutter, double take or WHATNOT. None of
that.

“There are four cardinal points, Halsey Rookmaaker, North,
South, East, and West. This pendant is like the arrow of a compass. It points
North,” said Asher.

“Go on.”

“North is for Benandanti. Lorn––would you like
to?” He passed the pendant to Laurinaitis.

“
With pleasure,
”
said Laurinaitis. Laurinaitis put the pendant down
on the bench and angled it so we all could see. He angled it down.

“You’re from Rome, right?” he said. It was getting late, and
Asher lit a torch to put over us.

“Me? No––Massachusetts. Why?” I said to
Laurinaitis.

He angled it that way, across the Atlantic Ocean, to St.
Martley’s.

“Well, we
are
from
Rome,” he said. The keratin in his nails was thick. Laurinaitis kept them
clipped, but even in man-form they were deadly. How must he look transformed?
Like Ballard? Or no. Selwyn. Selwyn who was a cat.

“But I thought... there were the Sons and Daughters of
Romulus,” I said, “and
then
the
Grigori and the Benandanti? That they were separate.
‘You to your corner, we to ours,’”
I repeated.

Laurinaitis hissed at the name
Grigori
. “Lump the first and third together, not the second,” he
said.

“The Sons and Daughters of Romulus––and the
Benandanti,” I said. “Better?”

He turned the arrow back down. I knew of whom he was
thinking: Rayven. What was with the enmity between their two
“
covens
”
?

“You’re Wiccan, right?” he said.

“I am. But I’m uninitiated,” I said. It was starting to feel
like an excuse.

“Not anymore,” said Laurinaitis. “Asher? What d’you say?”

“She needs to know,” he agreed.

“I agree....” said Laurinaitis. “Halsey, have you ever
wondered why Il Gatto is the King of Cats, and the Werewolf King the Magister
Equitum? Why a wolf is a cat, and a cat a dog? Compounded by the fact
equus
means horse, which is simply
tradition and has no bearing on the matter whatsoever? If anything, Rome should
be where the King of the Wolves resides, Digby Doubleday, our packhead’s
non-pack sobriquet. Today there are domesticated cats, but no ailuranthropes,
in Rome, is that correct?”

I nodded, confused.

“The reason is the Last War,” said Laurinaitis. “We really
should have Manon here with us, Asher,
and
Enzo.”

Something in me clicked.

“Lorenzo? Is he
here
?”
I said.

Both Asher and Laurinaitis shook their heads.

“He died, unfortunately,” said Asher. “Perhaps we should
start with that.”

“Lorenzo used to be Head Wolf,” said Laurinaitis, “the
position your friend Ballard currently holds––but he got thrown out
of Rome. They gave him the boot––the benandanti as well.”

“Rome
is
shaped
that way,” said Asher, who drew a shape of the Italian Peninsula in midair with
his finger.

The pendant on the table looked like an upside-down, all-seeing
eye. The diarist in me snuffled ahead. Maybe indoctrination was knowing? It was
going to be a long night, but I needed to know this. Asher and Laurinaitis
continued on...

“The Grigori were not as they are now,” said Laurinaitis.
“They’re still mean and nasty, yes, but before––during the
War––they had numbers.

“Following the Covenant of 1887, the respective covens,
kords, clans, and dwayles, went their separate ways––
you to your corner, we to ours
, never to
fight again.
We hoped.
Which
should’ve been an end to it. But the Grigori marched against the Sons and
Daughters of Romulus, and very nearly destroyed us. The Council of Magic was
busy elsewhere, rebuilding their world, while ours was falling
apart––a clever trick, to turn their backs on us, after we had
decimated ourselves elevenfold saving them. Prague owes Rome. Never forget
that, Halsey.

“Erasmus had helped to turn the tide. Hiving had been
initiated, but Lenoir had been cast out. In one respect, Hiving is good,” said
Laurinaitis. “In every other, it is monumentally bad and always has been so.
But. Hiving.
Was.
It had happened.
That
was the material point. You look
like I’m losing you, and maybe I am, but I assure you, all will be made clear.

“The problem with coming into something in the middle or the
end––and let us hope it is not––is you never hear about
the beginning,” said Laurinaitis. “We will now endeavor to indoctrinate you
into the Past.

“It was
Rayven
who
killed Vanity Ravenseal, Erasmus’s Mistress. On the orders of the vampires, some
said. But Rome was in turmoil. The Grigori were all but extinct; they liked to
fight amongst themselves, and so were undermined from within. Like a dead
House, a conflict arose between the Roman Packheads. The Head Wolf, a
cyanthrope named Crispus, was all for finishing the Grigori off. After all,
they
had attacked us! But his brother,
Domitius, who was Head of the Quirinal at the time, thought otherwise.
‘Haven’t we suffered enough?’
said
Domitius one day. Crispus disagreed and overruled him. It was within his power.
‘We must end this threat to us,’
he
said,
‘once and for all.’
That night,
Domitius killed his brother, and it was Romulus and Remus all over again. Rome
was in free fall.

“With Crispus gone, the Quirinal was in power. But a small
faction of us rose from within––not Eclectics, per se, but
fully-fledged werewolves and
otherkin
kind.” His eyes lit up like fiery bijoux. “Before the splitting, Rome embraced
all forms of permutation––there were a million words for the things
we could do. Loup garou and berserkers and so forth. Unfortunately, there were
not enough of us to put an end to the Grigori, as should have been
done––but we maintained Crispus’s last wish, that the Grigori should
be
watched
. So that is what we have
done. We broke from the Sons and Daughters of Romulus and headed north. To
Stromovka. And so became the Benandanti. Those Who Do Good. But how do we good?
We do good by keeping an eye on those who do bad.
”

He pointed through the opening of the Hollow with his finger
directly to Prague and the Districts of Magic. The places
I
must go. I felt a prickle of fear.

“The Stromovka circles Prague,” said Laurinaitis. “It
surrounds it
.
Like a great magic circle. And the only thing––the
only
thing––between the
Grigori and Rome, between the Dark Order and Rome, is us.”

“You mean––you’ve been watching all this time?”
I said. “For a hundred plus years? For what the Grigori will
do
....”

“‘Watching’
is a
good word––as will be shown. But it was not the Grigori alone, our
vigilance extended to. It included the Dark Order.”

* * *

I did the math in my head. The European Covenant of Magic
was signed in 1887. That would make Rayven hundreds of years
old––an expert spellcaster. Way beyond fledged.
Better than me.

“Don’t forget,” said Laurinaitis, “some of us can live for
extraordinarily long times.
Rayven
,
as he’s called, is ancient. In the lexicon of the Grigori, he is the worst.” He
passed me an aperitif. The snow had let up, but the torch-side chat continued.
“Prague was bad then,” he said. “Now it is a dangerous place, even if you
don’t
have magic.”

“The Dark Order is spreading,” said Laurinaitis. “Magic is
growing once more from Prague, unfurling itself from the Districts of Magic.
That knowledge alone would require this gathering–– you know, I
think we
should
get Manon,” he said
to Asher.

“We know you wish to go there,” continued Laurinaitis, as
Asher got up to go, “––to Prague,” he said.

“Don’t do it.
The
friendship of our two families is paramount––perhaps we can repair
old ties, and settle this matter once and for all––and reunite the
Benandanti and Rome––because by going alone to Prague
the Grigori
have the advantage. But
together....”

Did he mean what I thought he did?
Were
the Benandanti still interested in eliminating the Grigori?
And if so, did they need
our
help? It
had been a hundred and twenty-five years––five Gathering’s-worth
since the Dark Days. As for
two
families, I wasn’t a part of the Sons and Daughters of Romulus. Not really.
Families lived in houses and I still needed to find mine. For once, I was glad
I had not won the race. It enabled me to go my separate way. Meanwhile, did the
Sons and Daughters of Romulus need Ballard back?