Neophyte / Adept (55 page)

“Ballard’s in trouble?”

“Manon, find Manon...” I said.

I felt myself falling––and then it was like I
was
flying
, weightless through the
air––I opened my eyes––there were bonfires in the
distance––we broke through the trees––sailing across
the face of the moon–– Lennox was carrying me!

How could I have been so stupid? I wasn’t special at all! It
was Ballard! Ballard was different––special––everyone
said so.The first thing Rayven had ever said to me was,
“Your friend
, where is
he
?”
He wasn’t interested in me at all. It was Ballard! Hadn’t Gaven
told
me to look out for him?

Idiot. Selfish
, I
berated myself.

Lennox was somehow flying through the air––I
remembered thinking I would have to be
fledged
before I experienced that. What if Ballard somehow d-died? I couldn’t bring
myself to face it. What would I do, then? Where would I go?

Find the other one and
kill him––
Of course they were after Ballard. He was Head Wolf,
Il Gatto, the leader of the Sons and Daughters of Romulus... but this was
before that had happened. Before Ballard had won the race. Lenoir had
communicated with Rayven in my dreams. It hadn’t happened yet! They could just
as soon have been talking about me. I was runner-up. It must have been
something within Ballard, they wanted stopped; something even he didn’t know
about. The Grey Wolf.
Do not let IT
survive.
It had to be.

“Rookmaaker... everything... Rookmaaker...” I whispered
deliriously.

I felt ourselves land, and me being passed over. “Take her,
Manon. You
were
right. I will go
faster.”

“Halsey, you have to wake up.”

Something cool slashed through me. “WAKE––UP!”

“I’m here––what is it?”

But
where
was I?

“We have to hurry, come on!” said Manon. Lennox had dumped
me off on her. She dragged me to my feet.

Suddenly, I heard it,
and
Saw.

Explosions, fire in the night. The benandanti were in
trouble.

Lennox
, I thought.

My consciousness came back to me; Manon ran ahead. We were
on the edge of Stromovka; I could see firelight in the distance. Prague was
behind us. Stromovka was burning.

I battled my way through the trees after them, finding a
well-worn path I knew by heart. It brought me out to the lake; from there it
was a straight shot to the Hollow itself! The trees were all on fire.
“BALLARD!” I shouted. If I was going to save him, I
’
d
better do something quick. Lennox and Manon had already jumped into the fray.

Smoke rose, spreading thick about me. I coughed, putting my
sleeve over my mouth.

My Mark! It was astonishingly, blindingly bright blue! The
only time that’d ever happened, it meant Rayven was nearby. Was he? Of course
he was! The Grigori had come burning! He must’ve been leading them! They were
the
THEM
his Master had been talking
about! The Dark Order!

I flew down the path, feeling prickers and things dig into
my skin, trying to remember the spells I’d learned.

It was no good. I was doomed. I couldn’t see anything. And
then my feet started going downhill. The hollow was full of impenetrable, black
smoke. I didn’t know where I was going, but I saw spells erupting suddenly,
everywhichway...

Curses flew from one figure to the next, hitting some,
flying past others. I found myself vápnlauss, without a weapon, wondering what
to do.
Are you a witch or aren’t you?
Craft
, I told myself.

But I couldn’t just craft. Not without first finding
Ballard...

His domov.
I
skirted the upper edge of the Hollow. A meteor struck near my feet. Rayven
wanted Ballard. Maybe they were back... And Ballard was one of them...
The Watchtowers...
That would be it. He
was
my Protector, after all. If so, what
exactly did Watchtowers do, and was
that
why Ballard seemed to be on Rayven’s hit list?

Was Lennox, or Marek, or Selwyn?
But the Watchtowers were destroyed; my parents were destroyed.

A blast from someone’s Mark erupted my way. “Skjotleikr.” My
mark flared and suddenly I began to run really fast. It couldn’t be this
simple... it couldn’t...

“Sundr!”

I fell on my face and slid through the moist earth. It was
like I was paralyzed. A Grigori stood over me, drawing back his clawed hand,
dripping fangs drooling on me.

Suddenly, Laurinaitis appeared. “Come at
me
, small-guts,” he said.

I could only watch as the Grigori prepared to strike.

Laurinaitis’s face had taken on the characteristics of a
jaguar. He plowed into the Grigori, bowling it over. They began to duel.

It happened lightning-fast, each brandishing their spells at
the other––Laurinaitis was tricky; he executed a series of
blindingly-fast feints. All too soon, he dispatched the Grigori. At the same
time, I got to my feet. “Are you okay, Halsey?”

But there was no time––“no time...” I shouted. I
raced ahead.

I continued toward Ballard’s domov, Laurinaitis going the
other direction.

* * *

The fighting continued around me. I stayed low, doing my
best to breathe. It was around here somewhere. The flames were spreading thick
and fast. What would the benandanti do without Stromovka? I couldn’t believe
Rome had stuck their head in the sand. They had forgotten.

I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. The benandanti had never forgotten.
They watched and they waited. They hadn’t let their guard down once... Neither
would I.

Why, if things were so bad, hadn’t Mistress Genevieve ever
said anything about it? Was she protecting me the way it felt my landlady had
sometimes done? Yet, Risky had set Ballard and I down this path. Why?

I found Ballard’s tree, and was just about to scale it, when
a voice behind me made me turn fast.

“Mine
at last.”

I whipped around and Rayven was standing right there. If he
was a Grigori, why didn’t he look like one of them? He was scary, but essentially
a wizard. They were monstrous. I didn’t get it.

“What––do––you––
want
––Rayven?” I said.
Whiny––but so what.

He came forward, appearing from the smoke. I looked and saw
my Gambalunga––pity I couldn’t just jump on it and ride away. Being
in his presence, I saw why he had been a Watchtower. There was something
smooth, urbane, about him. Yet, he had been corrupted. How?

“You truly
are
alone,” he hissed.

I snapped. I formed my W and thought of the worst
feiknstafir I could imagine, before uttering it. It wasn’t enough. Rayven
blocked it easily and sent his own spell shooting my way. “N for Neophyte. For
not ready yet,” he said. His eyes lit up. “I don’t believe it...”

Out of the darkness, the tungleskin had crept. It was the
grey wolf. But it wasn’t evil... It wasn’t even there to kill me...

“That’s one of the Lares,” said Rayven, astonishment
coloring his features.

I looked at his Mark; back to my own. Both of ours were
glowing. There was no telling what Rayven’s Virtue could be. Did he even have
one? We were connected somehow, to the grey wolf, there in Stromovka.

Rayven stepped forward and its fangs flashed. What was going
on?

Figures were appearing out of the smoke, dragging the
wounded––a great cry went up and the full blaze of the bonfires lit
up my face. What was it that I wasn’t getting? Who could make me understand? My
Harm None ring flashed.

I don’t know what made me say it––he was
withdrawing, maybe that was it––but I said, “I’LL BE WAITING FOR
YOU, RAYVEN. DO YOU HEAR ME? I’LL BE WAITING FOR YOU!” I shouted.

He turned and was gone.

Quickly, I went to check on Ballard. The room was empty. Had
he been gotten? When I came back down, they were all coming into view,
including Ballard... the fire was following them.
Oh no.

I would like to say we magicked our way out of it. But there
are some things that not even the best intentions can solve, and an
out-of-control fire burning through the forest is one of them. A great smoke
overhung Stromovka, much the way a veil of something evil overhung Prague. I would
find out soon enough. About everything.

* * *

I quickly made a list of to-dos.
Do
find out about Selwyn.
Do
find House Rookmaaker.
Do
get back to
Rome. Do the things Houses are supposed to do. The trouble was, I didn’t know
what that meant, exactly. The only thing I could think was what St. Martley’s
had taught me––abstinence, control––

It had been a place where young witches were educated, but
not in magic.

Quickly, an idea began to form––a sense of what
House Rookmaaker
could
become. A
place far from Prague, and all its rules––a place hemmed in by
power––because I had the wolves––a place for anyone.

House Rookmaaker would become a place for
New
Magic. A kind of oriflamme around
which the Eclectics could rally; after all, I was uneducated too. Perhaps not
knowing any better
was
a virtue. Did
Ballard know any better when he became Head Wolf? Would I, when I led House
Rookmaaker? Besides, my parents would’ve wanted it that way. The problem was
thirteen-or-greater. I had no idea whatever else Houses had to genuflect to.

Perhaps the idea of a
House
was what was wrong.... Perhaps there should be no Houses at all! Did I ever
think of that?

Ballard and I grabbed our motorcycles. The benandanti would
make their way to Rome. I informed them of the letter I’d sent Lia, explaining
what had happened to Ballard. “Don’t be surprised if they expect your visit,” I
said. Then Ballard and I prepared to depart. We were still going to Prague.

Manon came running over. “We’ll look for you, Halsey, and
Ballard.”

“Blessed be––or something,” I said.

And then Ballard and I were off. It was a short drive to
Prague––but we passed through a wasteland of ash.
This
was what happened to Houses that
did not get along. Certain rogue entities were sent to destroy them. Somehow, I
imagined it would be much harder to send Rome up in flames, but it had been
done before, and others would try.

Chapter 13 –
The Council of Magic

Was Lenoir the necromancer I had fought with? If so, could
he bring back all the dead? Perhaps the Dark Order
would
rise again.

My mark was silent now, free of the shooting stabs of pain I
had been obliged to endure since turning eighteen; one would think, given a
place such as this, where the Grigori were prevalent, it would be acting up,
but no, it was either connected specifically to Rayven, or something else was
going on.

Coming around the bend, the entrance to the Districts of
Magic appeared. Not a soul was in sight. “So this is it, huh?” said Ballard,
unimpressed. “And what’s-his-face will be there?”

Two misshapen figures in cloaks were huddled in a corner
looking at us. Ballard unraveled his bandages, brushing himself off; for the
first time, I saw his scar. It was worse, somehow, than when I had seen it
before. Badly-knitted flesh disappeared down his neck, to hide in his
undershirt. What was this strange precognition that enabled me to see things
before they happened?

I deliberated, but again refrained from telling Ballard
about my Wiccan House. When I had ironclad proof, when I found the place,
then
I would tell him about House
Rookmaaker.

At the Sign of Magickal Objekts & Wonders, an old thrift
store, a witch sold Ballard and I a Star Wheel (“For my Luminarium,” he said),
an eight-sided wheel remarkably like the website I had visited; “Spin it to
know which virtue thou shalt be,” said the old crone, spookily.

We spent the day catnapping on benches, going through shops,
or else lollygagging around, waiting for when it got dark.

Golden Lane had become a wasteland. Leering gargoyles stared
down at us––their mouths opened in silent screams. The ground began
to slither and shake. It was like my body was in scales. Fire spewed from the
earth and an orb of white light surrounded me.

What is happening to
me?
I wrote in my Diary, when I woke up.

I had gone down the street as it twisted out of sight,
willing myself not to panic, when a voice behind me had called my name.
“Halsey!” Ballard continued to snore beside me. I had no idea how long I had
been asleep.

I woke Ballard, who clutched at the Star Wheel, wiping the
drool off his mouth. “What is it?” he said. “I was having a dream. We were
running...”

Was he having the chase nightmares like I had been having?

“I think I may know how to find Selwyn,” I said. I explained
to him what I was thinking about.

“I don’t know if that’ll work,” said Ballard. “I’ve never
done it on purpose before.”

“But you will be able to?” I asked. Now that I’d had the
idea, I couldn’t think of anything else. A note of desperation was in my voice.

“What if I hear
them
?”
he said, dropping his voice so that only I could hear. “It’s like a CB radio.
If I turn into a wolf, and use my powers to detect Selwyn, I might hear him,
sure; in which case we can find him; but there are others out there, Halls, who
might hear me. It works both ways. When I’m turned, I hear the Grigori, and the
benandanti. It’s like this shadow world. How else do you think I knew where to
find you when Rayven attacked? He may not have shifted, but his mind was on the
hunt.”

“I thought you had a feeling-thingy?” I said, remembering
when he used to get bad vibes.

“This
is
my
feeling-thingy––only it’s getting
powerfuller––powerfullest––whatever––I’m becoming
badass,” he said. “The true Head Wolf.”

Was I a fool? Ravenseal was after me.... But I had
provenance, a birthright. The red marker was in my bag, along with my diploma
from St. Martley’s. “We can’t fight them all,” said Ballard, “the Ravenseals
and
the Grigori––there’s no
telling how many of them there are in Prague... I’d be giving our position away
or something... Plus, Selwyn would have to be in cat-form,” he said. “I dunno.
It seems awfully risky. What we need is backup.”

* * *

We couldn’t use telepathy to find Selwyn for fear others
would find us. In which case, Ballard and I would be in deep trouble. First
things first, I went to the hotel room to fetch out my bag. Ballard waited in
the lobby. I left the Star Wheel on the table, along with a good-bye note to
Lennox, telling him where we’d gone. The concierge was most helpful.
“Ravenseal? Hum. You might want to check the Directory,” he said. He slammed a
behemoth red-leather volume on the counter, flipping it open. “Here you are.
Ravenseal... with an R. Big House on the left. You can’t miss it,” he said. His
finger slid down the Directory; on every page were lists of Houses... Wiccan
Houses...

“Are these all real?” I asked, staring at the list with my
mouth hanging open.

“Certainly, they’re real. The Directory is no laughing
matter, Miss. It’s kept very up to date, according to the solstices. Why?” he
asked.

“N-Nothing...”

“Halls, what is it?” said Ballard.

“And this holds every House? Even the ones that are
extinct?” I said.

“Especially
the
ones that are extinct,” said the concierge. “Otherwise, how would we know which
ones are still alive? Honestly, it’s like you aren’t even a witch.” He looked
on sadly. “If you want, the new one’s just come in, you can keep this one if
you want? The Directory gets shorter every year, almost as though Magic were
dying.”

“I really appreciate this, sir, really!” I said. I stuffed
the Directory as quickly as I could into my backpack along with the Everything
book.

“It’s past the Master House. You be careful, Miss.”

* * *

“
You know they’re after us,
right?” said Ballard. “Ravenseal. And you want to
go
there?
To
their
House?”

“Lux can help us, Ballard. He’s a Styles Master.”

I felt giddy. Here was a way to find my House. The Directory
revealed instructions not just to find the secret location of House Ravenseal,
but all Houses, including my own.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure they’re a great House!” said
Ballard. “And Ravenseal
would
be the
perfect vantage point from which to spy on the Master House, but I don’t think
you should go there, Halls.”

“Why not?”

“For one, Lia’s grown very fond of you.”

“And the second reason?” I asked, snuggling up to him.

“Vampires aren’t exactly welcomed in Prague,” said Ballard.
“He won’t be able to visit much.”

Would Ballard join my House? Could he, now that he was Head
of the cyanthropes––of all the cyanthropes, because the Benandanti
still owed him their allegiance. The Bennys had essentially hived from the Sons
and Daughters of Romulus––but Lux, who had taught me of hiving, was
right: Houses didn’t just break from other Houses, not really.

“Traduttore,
traditore.
Gaven was right. Look at this place,” said Ballard. He stared up
at the Master House. “I could just peek, you know? If Selwyn’s in there...”

“He may not be turned, Ballard. Come
on
,” I said, dragging him away.

We rushed through a crowd of shoppers, down the Lane as it
forked to the left, until we were walking along a hedgerow, out of town. The
Districts of Magic were disappearing behind us.

According to the book, Ravenseal House was somewhere down
this avenue, we just had to find it. I stopped to get my bearings, but also
check my House.

Hair blowing helter-skelter I found the page I was looking
for. “R, R,” I whispered to myself, turning the pages frantically. Ballard
must’ve thought I was a madwoman.

A new tingling was in my fingertips. Was I about to discover
the secret whereabouts of
my
House?

“It’s not here,” I said, flipping through the Directory
despondently.

IF YOUR HOUSE IS NOT LISTED, said the book, SEARCH THE
BACK
OF THE DIRECTORY.

Of course. The index listed
Houses no longer with us
.

THESE ARE THE HOUSES THAT WERE, BUT ARE NO LONGER, said the
book.

I flipped to the back. Whereas the
living
Houses––those that had not been
eradicated––listed physical addresses, along with those who were in
them, their Heads and so forth––what I called the dead Houses
listed only the House names and dates of obliteration. No other information was
presented.
No wonder the book was
shrinking.
There were hundreds of them... Thousands of listings... Houses
from the past that had been wiped out––most of them pre-dated the
twentieth century––but no House Rookmaaker. I didn’t know where it
was at.

Hoping it was some kind of mistake, I turned to the title
page, but it was last year’s copy. Rookmaaker, if it existed, should’ve been
listed. “But it’s not!” I said, slamming the Directory shut.

Ballard seemed antsy––“Um, Halls?”

“Yes, Ballard?”

I flipped back to Ravenseal. A list of eleven names was
presented, with Veruschka’s at the top.

HOUSE RAVENSEAL

&

its Members

Veruschka Ravenseal *

Rumor Scroop *

Balthasar LeFlaq

Pirapong Bonewits

Rosamund Rasmussen

Tatiana Tower

Polixines Derevjanik

Pericles Pike

Lara Tanner

Djonga Hardesty

Lux Aeterna *

––
missing

*
Symbols next to names
denote powers not usually associated with Wicca-craft.
Names ranked in order of their significance.

Lux was at the bottom. I got a kind of icy prickle when I
saw the twelfth spot, where I should have been listed.
No twelfth. Missing.

“I hate to bother you and all, but you
might
want to get ready for a fight,” said Ballard.

“What?”

I looked up. Two witches and a wizard were making their way
down the hedgerow. It was getting late and the clouds were making parhelia,
sundogs, bright spots of light on either side of the sun, which may have been
their Lights. The Wiccans were shooting them at us.

I put my book away, stuffing it into my backpack, when
suddenly Lux appeared. Comprehension dawned on his face.

“Halsey? What are you doing here?” he said.

“Hello Professor Lux.”

He formed the W. The talons were on his fingers, tridents
which helped him to craft.
Had
he
been? That would have been unusual. He didn’t normally
do
magic.

I hoped he didn’t inquire as to the further development of
my Mark. As always when I was around him, I felt my shortcomings like a hard
edge, cut into my flesh.

Ballard seemed to encourage a confrontation. The sun was not
fully down yet. I didn’t want to get into anything without Lennox present. We
were still within the purlieus of the Districts of Magic, were we not? I hadn’t
been caught on Ravenseal territory, unawares, had I? If so, I didn’t know what
I would do.

Lux looked towards Stromovka. The cloud of ash had still not
dissipated. How must I look? I got an uneasy feeling, like Ravenseal knew what
had happened, almost like they had been in on it. But what did they know of the
Benandanti?

Ballard shifted infinitesimally.

“Right. Introductions,” said Lux. “This is Pirapong
Bonewits––” he said, pointing to a tallow candle of a
witch––“and Rumor Scroop––”

“Hello,” I said.

“Ladies, allow me to introduce Miss Halsey Rookmaaker!”

“Wait, not
the
Miss Rookmaaker?” said Bonewits.

“As in our twelfth?” said Scroop.

“Turned us down, I’m afraid,” said Lux.

Rumor Scroop continued to stare at me like I was a bug.

“It’s not right,” said Bonewits.

“No, it’s not,” said Scroop. “I think you should come along
with us, now, dear. Leave the dog. I daresay it’s not Housebroken yet.”