Night World 1 (50 page)

Thea spun and looked behind her. The wraith was bobbing there. It was shaped like a woman made of vapor, with arms and legs only suggested, but with a long tail of hair that whipped around.

“I've got the stuff,” Thea muttered to Eric. Admitting she knew he'd never leave. “But it'll take a few minutes to do the spell. We'll have to keep out of—”

She was watching the lashing tail, but she wasn't fast enough. There was a sound—something between the snap of a whip and the crackle of electricity—and the tail flashed out. It was around her neck.

At first it just felt cold. Insubstantial but icy, like a scarf of subzero wind. But then the wraith gave a jerk and it tightened and it
did
have substance. It felt like metal, like a pipe full of supercooled liquid, like the tentacle of some alien creature with ice for blood. It was choking her.

She couldn't breathe and she couldn't get her fingers under it. It squeezed tighter, hurting her. She could feel her eyes start to bulge.

“Look at me!” Eric yelled. He had a stick that was blazing at one end and he was dancing up and down like a crazy person on the other side of the fire. “Look! Suzanne! I'm going to get your little sister!” He poked the burning stick at the dummy Lucienne, not at the wood piled around her, but at the actual doll.

“There! There! How do you like that?” He jabbed at the doll. A ring of fire blossomed in the black clothes. “Confess you're a witch!”

Thea felt something slide away and her neck was free.

She tried to shout a warning to Eric, but all that came out was a croak. He was already diving to one side anyway.

That must be what he's been doing all this time. Dodging.

“Eric keep it up!”

“Okay, but work fast!” He threw himself the other way.

She forced herself to turn her attention from him. Her backpack was at the edge of the circle where she'd dropped it. She grabbed it and dumped the contents out on the ground.

She had to do this right and she had to do it faster than she'd ever worked a spell before.

Oak and ash. She threw them on the central fire, then scooted toward it, dragging the other materials close with a sweep of her arm.

She ripped open a plastic bag and grabbed the quassia chips. They were light, and she had to thrust her hand into the flames to make sure they actually went in the fire. Blessed thistle was powder; she threw it. Mandrake root was solid, she threw it, too.

She had just grabbed the ounce vial when Eric shouted, “Thea,
duck.
”

She didn't look up to see what she was ducking. She fell flat instantly. It saved her. Icy wind blew her hair almost into the fire.

“Suzanne!” Eric was yelling. “I've got your brother! Look!”

There were fires at all three stakes now, and Eric was dashing between them, poking at one figure after another.

Thea pulled the plastic cap off the vial with her teeth. She shook it into the fire, her hand in the flames again.

One, two,
three.

The fire roared up, louder than ever, and pure blue. Thea fell back from it.

“Suzanne! Over here!” Eric's voice was faint beyond the roar.

Tears were running down Thea's face, her nose and eyes stinging from the acrid smell. She fumbled for the last object necessary for the sending-back…the bag of residue from the bronze bowl. She took a handful in her left hand and dropped it between two charcoaled logs at the edge of the fire.

Then she stood up—and saw that Eric was in trouble.

He'd lost his burning stick. The wraith had him by the throat and it was whirling him around, changing shape every second. His mouth was open, but Thea couldn't hear any sound.

“May I be given the Power of the Words of Hecate!”

She
screamed
it, into the roaring fire, toward the wheeling, changing spirit shape.

And the words came, rolling off her tongue with a power of their own:

“From the heart of the flame…I send you back! Through the narrow path…I send you back!”

She put all her own power into the words, too, screaming them with an authority that she'd never felt in herself before. Because the wraith was
fighting.
It didn't want to go anywhere.

“To the airy void…I send you back! Through the mist of years…I send you back!”

Eric staggered, was jerked sideways. He seemed to be lifted off his feet by the wraith.

“To beyond the veil…I send you back! Go speedily, conveniently, and without delay!”

Eric's feet were kicking in the air. This is how Kevin died, Thea realized suddenly and with absolute certainty.

She found herself yelling words she'd never heard before. “By the power of Earth and Air and Water! By the power of Fire on this night of Hecate! By my own power as a daughter of Hellewise!
Go speedily, conveniently and without delay, you bitch!”

She had no idea where
that
came from. But the next instant Eric fell. The wraith had dropped him.

It shot toward Thea—but then it stopped as if it had slammed into an invisible brick wall. It was directly over the fire.

Caught.

The blue flames were belching smoke—but sideways. Thea could see the wraith clearly above them. And for the first time, it didn't look like a cloud shape. It looked like a woman.

A girl. Older than Thea, but still in her teens. With long dark hair that floated around her and a pale face and huge sad eyes. Her lips were parted as if she were trying to speak.

Thea stared. She heard herself whisper, “Suzanne…”

The girl held out a pale hand toward her. But at the same moment the fire flared up again. It seemed to turn the girl's hair to fire, too. Dark fire was burning all around her and there was an expression of infinite sadness on her face.

Thea reached out a hand instinctively—

The fire roared—

And there was a flash like lightning.

Suzanne had been drawn to the heart of the flame. And now the lightning formed a cone: the narrow path.

Plastic bags and other debris whipped around the circle as if caught in a whirlwind.

Suzanne and the cone of white lightning disappeared into each other.

To the airy void. Through the mist of years.

The fire flared up above Thea's head, and then sank down. The blue seemed to fall to the bottom. The flames turned yellow, like ordinary fire.

It was as if a curtain had been drawn.

To beyond the veil.

That was where Suzanne was now.

At the edge of the bonfire, where the residue had been, there was a lump of soft clay. Thea knelt and picked it up. She looked into the center of the flames—and saw a coil of long hair, the color of mahogany. The ends were starting to blacken and shrink in the fire.

Thea reached in to grab it. She folded the hair over and quickly pressed the clay around it. It was a clumsy job, Blaise would have done much better, but the hair was enclosed. She groped on the ground for the wooden seal, found it, punched it into the clay. Suzanne's symbol, the cabalistic sign for her name, was printed.

It was done.

The amulet was restored, Suzanne was trapped again. She'd stay where she belonged unless somebody else was stupid enough to summon her.

Thea dropped the amulet without looking at it, got up, and staggered around the fire to where Eric was lying. Her vision was strangely gray.

After all this…he
has
to be all right…oh, please, let him be…

He moved when she reached him.

“Eric, we did it. She's gone.
We did it.
”

He grinned faintly. Said in a scratchy voice, “You don't have to cry.”

She hadn't realized she was.

Eric sat up. He was terminally mussed, his hair wild, his face dirty. He looked wonderful to her.

“We did it,” she whispered again. She reached out to smooth his hair, and her hand stayed there.

He glanced at the fire, then back at her. “I kind of hated to say those things to her. I mean, no matter how bad she was…” He touched Thea's neck, stroking gently. “Are you okay? I think you've got a bruise.”

“Me? You're the one who really got it.” She put her free hand to his throat, fingers just barely touching. “But I know what you mean,” she whispered. “I felt—sorry—for her at the end.”

“Don't cry again. Please. I really hate that,” he whispered, and he put
his
free arm around her.

And then they were just kissing madly. Deliriously. Laughing and kissing and holding each other. She could taste her own tears on his lips, warming with his warmth, and she was trembling like a bird in a thicket.

A few moments later a noise broke in. Thea didn't want to move, but Eric looked, and then he stiffened.

“Uh, we've got company.”

Thea looked up.

There were cars just outside the sandstone pillars. Parked cars. They must have driven up sometime during the fight with Suzanne, while the roar of the fire blocked out the sound of their engines, while Thea's attention was focused on the wraith trying to kill her.

Because the people were already out of the cars. Grandma Harman, supported by Aunt Ursula. Rhys in his lab coat. Dumpling-shaped Mother Cybele, with her hand on Aradia's arm. Old Bob, Nana Buruku.

Most of the Inner Circle was here.

T
hea started to let go of Eric. She could still try to save him.

But
he
wouldn't let go. And her own instincts told her to hold on to him.

They stood up together, holding each other, facing the Inner Circle as a unit.

“Well,” Mother Cybele said, blinking rapidly. “Aradia brought us here thinking you might need help. But you've taken care of things yourselves. We saw the end, very impressive.”

“I saw it, too,” Aradia said. Her face was turned toward Thea, the faintest trace of a smile on her lips. “You did a good job, Thea Harman. You're a true Hearth-Woman.”

“Yes, and where did that last invocation come from?” Gran said, shifting her weight to the cane Rhys gave her. “I've never in my life heard of anybody calling on their own power as a daughter of Hellewise.” She said it in a grumbling way, but Thea had the strange feeling that she was almost pleased.

Thea faced them all, Maiden, Mother, and Crone of the Inner Circle. She was still holding Eric. “I don't know where it came from,” she said, and was glad to hear that her voice wasn't shaking too badly. “It just…came.”

“And what about you? What's your name, young man?” Gran said.

“Eric Ross.” Thea was proud of the way he said it, quiet and respectful, but not cowed.

Gran looked from him to Thea. And back again.

“You're in this with my granddaughter?”

“He doesn't know anything….” Thea began, but of course that was hopeless. And ridiculous.

“I know I love Thea,” Eric said, cutting her off. “And she loves me. And if there's some rule that says we can't be together, it's a stupid rule.”

He sounded terribly brave and terribly young. Thea felt a wave of dizziness. Her fingers tightened on his until both their hands were shaking from the pressure. She realized for the first time that her right hand was fairly seriously burned.

“Please let him go, Grandma,” she whispered. And then, as Gran stood silent, “Please…I won't ever see him again and he won't ever tell. All he's done is try to help me, try to save lives.
Please
don't punish him for what's my fault.” Warmth pooled in her eyes and spilled over.

“He tried to uphold the law,” Aradia said. “At least, I think so.”

Thea wasn't sure she'd heard right. Gran didn't seem to be, either. She said, “How's that?”

“Hellewise said it's forbidden for witches to kill humans, didn't she?” Aradia asked, her face serene. “Well, that spirit was a witch who'd already killed a human—and who wanted to kill more. And he helped send her back. He helped Thea undo the forbidden spell, and he helped prevent witch law from being broken again.”

Rhys muttered, “Neatly put,” but Thea couldn't tell whether that meant he agreed or not.

Gran shuffled a step forward, looking at Eric. “And just what did you do to help, young man?”

“I don't know if I
did
help,” Eric said in his quiet, straightforward way. “Mainly I just tried to keep her from killing me—”

“When did you light the fires?” Thea asked in an undertone, still clutching his hands.

He glanced at her. One side of his mouth quirked slightly.

“Nine o'clock,” he said.

“Even though I wasn't there.” Thea's voice was just slightly louder now. “And you knew Suzanne would come and try to get you, and you didn't have any magic to fight her. So why did you do it?”

He looked at her, then at Gran. Then at her. “You know why. Because otherwise she'd have gone over to the party.”

“And killed more people.” Thea looked at Gran.

Gran was staring at Eric, her dark old eyes very keen. “So you saved lives.”

“I don't know,” Eric said again, maddeningly honest. “But I didn't want to take the chance.”

“He saved my life, too,” Thea said. “Suzanne tried to kill me. And I could never have gotten through the spell to send her back if he hadn't kept her distracted.”

“That's nice, but I'm not sure it's enough,” Old Bob said, running a hand over his stubbly chin. His weathered face was quizzical. “There's nothing that says upholding one law makes up for breaking another. Especially Night World law. We could get in a mess of trouble fooling with that.”

Gran and Mother Cybele looked at each other. Then Gran turned to Old Bob.

“I changed your diapers—don't tell me you know more about Night World law,” she snapped. “I'm not about to let a bunch of bloodthirsty vampires dictate to me.” She looked at the others. “We need to take this somewhere private. Let's go back to my place.”

Somewhere private. Hope kept racing giddily through Thea as the jeep bounced and rattled home.

Eric was driving, and Thea was in the backseat, so they couldn't talk. Aunt Ursula was in the front beside Eric.

Gran's fighting for me. And Aradia, and maybe even Mother Cybele. They don't want me to die. I don't think they even want Eric to die.

But reality kept trying to push the hope away.

What can they do? They can't condone a witch and a human being together. They can't risk war with the rest of the Night World, not even to save me.

There's no solution.

The little caravan pulled up the back alley behind Gran's store.

And then Thea was in the workshop again, in the circle of chairs. Creon and Belfana had been waiting. So had Blaise and Dani, who were both sitting down.

“Are you okay?” Dani began, standing—and then she shut up. She was looking at Eric, her dark, velvety eyes huge. A human in the Circle.

“We put Suzanne back,” Thea said simply. She took Eric's hand again.

The Inner Circle re-formed around the two of them, witch and human, standing centered.

“We have a situation,” Gran said. And she explained even though most of them already understood the problem. She did it thoroughly, looking at each of the Circle members in turn. Aradia and Mother Cybele sat on either side of her, occasionally putting in a thoughtful remark.

Thea figured it out in a few minutes. Gran was recruiting each of them, appealing to them—and showing that the Mother and Maiden both agreed with her. She was working them all over to her side.

“And the end result is, we've got these two,” she said at last. “And we have to decide what to do with them. This is a decision for the Inner Circle, for the daughters and sons of Hellewise.
Not
for the Night World Council,” she added, looking at Old Bob.

He ran a hand through rough gray hair and muttered, “The Council might not see it just that way,” But he smiled.

“There was a time,” Gran said, “when witches and humans got along better than they do now. I'm sure anybody who's gone far enough back with their family tree knows that.”

Eric looked at Thea, who shook her head and looked at Blaise.

“She means,” Mother Cybele put in, “that we used to take human husbands, a long time ago. To make up for the fact that there have never been enough witch men. That was back in the days when there was still the third Circle, Circle Daybreak. The one that tried to teach magic to humans.”

“Until humans started burning us,” Belfana said, her freckled face grave under its coil of deep red hair.

“Well,
this
one isn't likely to burn anybody,” Aunt Ursula said acidly. At that moment, Thea loved her.

“Nobody is arguing that the laws should be changed,” Mother Cybele said, putting her plump fingers together. “We can't go back to those days, and we all know the danger from humans now. The question is, is there any way to make an exception in this one case?”

“I don't see how,” Rhys said slowly. “Not without all of us ending up accused of treason.”

“It'll be the Night Wars all over again,” Nana Buruku added. “Each race of Night People against the others.”

“I don't wish them harm,” Creon said from his wheelchair, his cracked voice barely audible. “But they can't live in our world, and they can't live in the human world.”

And that, Thea thought, sums it up perfectly. There is no place for us. Not while one of us is witch and the other is human….

The idea came in a single flash, like the lightning from the balefire.

So simple. And yet so terrifying.

It might work….

But if it did, could I stand it?

Would you give up everything?

Everything—including Gran and Blaise. Dani and Lawai'a and Cousin Celestyn. Uncle Galen, Aunt Gerdeth, Aunt Ursula…Selene and Vivienne, everybody at Circle Twilight.

The smell of herbs, lavender mixed with rose petals. The kiss of cool stones in her palm. Every chant, every invocation…all the spells she'd learned. The feel of magic flowing through her fingertips. Even the memory of Hellewise…

Hellewise in her white shift, in the dark forest…

Would you give up everything
…
for peace?

For Eric?

This time the inner voice was her own. She found herself looking at Eric and knowing she already had her answer.

He was so good, so dear. Tender but intense. Smart and brave and honest and insightful…and loving.

He loves me. He was willing to die for me.

He'd
give up everything.

Eric was watching her, his gray-flecked eyes concerned. He could tell that something was going on with her.

Thea smiled at him. And was so proud to see that even now, surrounded by people who must seem like figures from some horrible legend to him, he could give her a wry half-smile back.

“I have an idea,” she said to Gran and the Inner Circle. “The Cup of Lethe.”

There was a silence. People looked at each other. Gran was startled.

“Not just for him,” Thea said. “For me.”

Long breaths quietly drawn in the silence.

Gran shut her eyes.

“If I drank enough, I'd forget everything,” Thea forged on, talking to all the grave faces. “Everything about the Night World. I wouldn't be a witch anymore, because I wouldn't remember who I am.”

“You'd become a lost witch,” Aradia said. Her lovely face was calm, not appalled. “Like the psychics who don't know their heritage. And lost witches can live with humans.”

“And neither of us would remember about the Night World,” Thea said. “So how could we be breaking any laws?”

“The law would be satisfied,” Aradia said.

Eric's hand tightened on Thea's. “But—”

She looked at him. “It's the only way for us to be together.”

He shut his mouth.

This silence was very long.

Then Blaise, who had been standing with crossed arms, watching, said, “She told
me
they were soulmates.”

For an instant, Thea thought she was saying it spitefully, to harm.

But Gran was turning in surprise. “Soulmates. That's a notion I haven't heard in a while.”

“An archaic myth,” Rhys said, shifting in his lab coat.

“Maybe not,” Mother Cybele said softly. “Maybe the old powers are waking up again. Maybe they're trying to tell us something.”

Gran looked down at the floor. When she looked back at Thea, there were tears in her fierce dark eyes. And for the first time since Thea had known her, those eyes looked truly old.

“If we did let you do this,” she said, “if we let you renounce your heritage and walk away from us…where would you go?”

It was Eric who answered. “With me,” he said simply. “My mom and my sister already love her. And my mom knows she's an orphan. If I tell her Thea can't stay here anymore—well, she'd take her in, no questions.”

“I see,” Gran said. Eric hadn't mentioned that his mom already thought Thea was living in an unstable home with an unbalanced old lady, but Thea had the feeling Gran knew.

Another pause, as Gran looked around the Circle. Finally, she nodded and let out a breath. “I think the girl's given us a way out,” she said. “Does anybody disagree?”

No one spoke. Most of the faces were pitying. They think it's a fate worse than death, Thea realized.

Blaise said suddenly, “I'll get the Cup.”

She clashed through the bead curtain.

Good. It's
good
to get it over with, Thea thought. Her heart was pounding wildly. She and Eric were holding hands so tightly that her burned fingers stung.

“It won't hurt,” she whispered to him. “We'll be sort of confused…but it should come back to us…except anything about magic.”