The Santa Society (25 page)

Nothing has been simple since I met Reason. And I’m glad because it means life lost its grayness. Instead, magic paints everything with deeper meaning, richer colors like the vivid orange, black, and white that now slides between our intertwined fingers. This exhilarates me, too, seeing our hands connected and enmeshed in something so wild and primal. I glance up at him and find him watching me. He has a look on his face that reminds me of something beatific, glowing like he’s seen a cosmic finger draw out the secret of life in the clouds.

“She belonged to my father.” He lets go of my hand and scratches the side of her face. Her purr electrifies me. “She disappeared after he died. I haven’t seen her since. But here she is, and she’s pregnant.”

I search his expression, wanting to ask how any of this is possible, but I don’t.

The look he gives me as he meets my gaze tells me all I need to know: The Gift has not left him. And it’s confirmed itself, once again.

Alice flops over on the ground, legs up. Together we sit down, too, side by side and place our hands over the somersaulting cubs inside her belly. How perfectly impossible, and yet, here she is. She’s returned, carrying new life.

He stretches out beside her, and places his head in my lap, looking up at me as I stroke her pregnant belly. “You’re right,” he says.

“I am?”

“Yep. The Gift doesn’t need the Society.” He closes his eyes. “It only needs a wise man...and a wise woman.”

Chapter 27

NOW THAT WE’VE FED ALICE, and filled our own bellies with Dex’s special banana-blueberry waffles, we’ve set out to pay a house call to Brother Cassius. We’ve left Klaus to spend the day with Dex at the Sloon. I expect this trip to be pointless, but Reason insists we try. He’s kept quiet about what exactly he plans to say. Like the day we went to see Ives, he hasn’t solidified it yet.

I stare out the window as we drive down a winding road through the foothills that leads us deeper into the valley. Neither of us has spoken for a while. We pass into a thickening forest of pine trees, and I decide to break the silence. “I’m not sure why, but I didn’t peg him for an outdoorsy fellow.”

“He’s lived out here since my father apprenticed under him, before he gave up Office.”

“Do you really think he lost the Gift?”

“No one ever said it for sure, but I think so. My dad hinted at it.” Reason steers the truck down a narrow driveway that switch-backs to the left. Soon we pass through a concrete walled entrance with no gate.

The house looms ahead of us, a brick home with large windows across the front. Other than a small gazebo, it looks pretty modest. The closed garage and absence of vehicles give the appearance that no one’s home.

But I think I see a curtain move just as Reason shifts into park and throws open his door. The suggestion of a pale hand rests where the swag of fabric bends in an unnatural curve, and I continue to watch the window, not taking my eyes off it until Reason stands waiting at my open car door. I climb out, but when I look up again, the curtain has returned to normal position.
Someone is definitely in there.

I have a strong sense someone watches us as we walk toward the front door. But Reason doesn’t seem to notice. His hand rests in the small of my back as we make our way up the brick lined walkway. Despite myself, I move in closer to him.

The barren covered porch contains nothing except a pair of mud-crusted work boots with thick rubber soles. I have a hard time imagining Cassius wearing these. He seems much too fragile and proper for manual labor.

Reason rings the bell, and a muffled chime sing-songs inside. We look at each other and smile. I imagine I see him draw himself up straighter, taller. Silence. Finally, Reason reaches to ring the bell again, just as something brushes against the door and a series of sniffing sounds emits from the bottom of the threshold. A bolt unlocks, a chain slides, another bolt turns, and then a third.

The door opens with a tiny crack.

“Back up Scarlett. Back. Rhett—go.” I recognize Cassius’ voice right away.

I steal a quick glance at Reason. He lifts an eyebrow at me and looks back toward the door with a smirk on his face.

The door swings farther open. Cassius stands taller than I remembered. He squints at us as he tightens the sash of his red robe. I look down. He wears black corduroy slippers and white socks that come halfway up his pale, skinny calves.

Two gray snouts sniff at the air on either side of his legs: small teacup poodles. I wouldn’t have guessed him to be a poodle guy, either.

“Reason. I would have expected you to be busy packing today. To what do I owe this honor?”

Reason doesn’t flinch. “Alice.”

Cassius’ mouth draws up like a raisin, then instantly relaxes again. “I suppose you’d like to come in.” He says flatly.

He doesn’t wait for confirmation as he steps back, allowing us to enter.

Once he’s closed the door behind, he turns without looking at either of us and leads us down a short hallway and into a library. Immediately, I notice the heat. It must be 80 degrees in here. Rhett and Scarlett pant as they follow beside him.

Old books and mounted animal heads cover the walls. Immediately I identify a moose, two mule deer, and an elk. A snarling fox stands on top of one side of the “L” shaped desk. The front-facing side contains nothing but a fossilized lizard paperweight and an open book. A magnifying glass lies over the open pages, marking his place.

Cassius seats himself behind the desk and motions toward the two leather chairs in front of it. The juxtaposition of his private-wear, dead animals, and dusty library collection gives me an overwhelming feeling of claustrophobia.

Our bottoms make unpleasant noises as we situate ourselves in the leather. I glance down, wondering if they’re made of vinyl or they’ve just never seen many visitors. The poodles sniff around our shoes as Cassius grumbles, “Let’s get on with it.”

Reason looks like a grown-up in a child’s chair, ready for Cassius to serve him a tiny cup of tea and some imaginary scones. Cassius keeps his eyes on Reason as though a silent standoff transpires between them. It occurs to me, finally, that Cassius hasn’t acknowledged me at all since we got here.

Reason clears his throat and begins. “I’d like you to explain to me why Brother DeMurio's promise to Adelaide hasn’t been fulfilled.”

Cassius regards him down the length of his nose. “What promise is that?”

“To offer her the protection, the support of the Society.”

“That is exactly what I’ve done.”

“See, that’s just it. I don’t believe you have.” Reason’s voice has a sharp edge to it.

“Brother DeMurio and I did not agree on how to provide that for her. I’ve acted in her best interest by encouraging her to pursue a normal life, outside the Society.”

“You’ve gone against your predecessor. Where is the letter, Cassius?”

“What letter?”

“The one that’s been stolen from Erin’s home.”

Cassius shifts in his chair. “If you mean the letter from Brother DeMurio to Adelaide, I received it just yesterday in the mail, sent it a few days ago—before Ms. Sinclair’s unfortunate incident. I had no involvement whatsoever in Brice’s obtainment of it.”

“
Unfortunate incident
?”
Reason repeats as he spreads his palms on his knees and takes a deep breath. He lets it out in a slow exhale before he continues. “We’d like the letter back.”

“I’m sorry, but I can't do that. Is there anything else I can help you with?” Cassius eyes him coolly.

Reason ignores it. “What would the Council say if they knew you deleted Erin’s membership file?”

“I don't really care what the Council would say. She’s my Granddaughter—my personal concern.”

My head snaps up. Is he suggesting he has my interests at heart? I want to laugh, but I force myself not to.

“I thought as much, Cassius. I have known you for a long time. I cannot imagine you’d do this simply for the sake of your own bitterness.” He pauses for emphasis. “But you are forcing your will onto another. Could this be the same tendency that caused you to lose the Gift?”

The air in the room instantly thickens—enough to be sliceable. The muscles and tendons in Cassius’ jaw clench. Reason leans forward as though preparing for battle. I almost expect the air to crackle between them.

Cassius speaks in a slow, measured tone. “My wife did not wish for her descendants to be constrained by the Society. As long as I live, I will honor that wish.”

So that’s it. He never quit loving his wife.

“Enough!” Reason slams his fist on the desk, causing a tremor strong enough to tip the fossil over and slide the magnifying glass off the book. The pages rise together, swallowing the place-mark. “You’d reject the wishes of your own child and your grandchild for the ideals of a woman who can’t see what’s happening now. Do you really think she’d have wanted her daughter to die without her living father by her side? You’ve made yourself a miserable person. Do you do it for honor or regret?”

Cassius leans forward. “Your father would be ashamed of your disrespect.”

“No, Cassius, my father would agree. He pitied you. I do not. Your honor rests in the man you choose to be today. What will the man of today do that is honorable? Will he forgive himself or continue to punish everyone around him for his mistakes?”

Now it’s Cassius turn to bellow. “Don’t talk to me about my mistakes or your father’s pity. You have no idea how my life has been without her! And sitting before me now, is a woman who bears her face. If she could speak to me from the grave, she does so right now—in this situation. Before me I see the same decision I made then.”

“You’re terrified of thinking you both could have made different choices. That is your only stake in this.” Reason’s countenance looks fierce. “Where is your honor, Thomas Cassius? Where’s your faith now?”

“I’ll tell you where my honor is. My honor is beside you. I’ve not loved my descendants from afar and done without my family so that you could come along and make it all for nothing!”

Reason relaxes now. He leans back in his chair, observing Cassius, who still sits erect in his seat with veins bulging in his temples. “Thirty years ago two men walked into the plains of Africa on a mission of mercy and diplomacy. They came face to face with a tiger in an abandoned village. She and her cub fed on the bodies of the dead. One man followed behind the first. He could have run away, but he did not. Instead, he ran forward just as the tiger leapt to attack. He stepped in front of his apprentice and speared the animal with his walking stick. In memory of your courage, my father brought the lion cub home and tamed it.
That
was your honor. Today, Alice has returned and reminded me again your willingness to sacrifice, Brother. Now you have the chance to make another: let go of the past.
That
will be your honor today.”

Cassius does not speak. His face looks like a granite stone, but I begin to notice his eyes reddening. He reaches up his hand and pushes away the book on the desk in front of him. When he draws back his hand, I see it tremble.

“I can’t undo it now, Reason, and I’ve destroyed the letter. There are no other files concerning membership. DeMurio had no right to meddle in personal matters against my wishes. And even if I tried to change it now, it couldn’t be done without substantial evidence to support the revocation of your Office and the Gift.”

Reason clamps his hands down over his knees. “You had no right to meddle in the personal matters of Adelaide and Erin Sinclair. If bloodline creates such privileges for you, you should have no problem obliging Erin’s entitlement to the rights of hers.”

“It’s too late.” Cassius looks at the desk.

“You knew Amendment 16 did not apply to us. What you’ve done is enough to have you removed from the Council. Is this what you protect now?”

“Reason, I’m too old to care about such things.”

“Then you’ll at least care about the Society.”

Cassius narrows his eyes. “Of course I care about the Society.”

“You’re right. You can’t undo it. But it’s not your actions I refer to, it’s the Gift. In your bitterness, you have done the very thing that has freed the Gift—the truth—from the hands of corruption.”

“Get on with it MacCloud. I’m not in the mood for games.”

“You haven't asked how I came to have Alice.”

“Well, surely you do not mean she’s literally returned. You meant metaphorically.”

“No, I meant literally.”

Cassius stands now, a slow affair that’s much less impressive than when Reason does it. “I’m tired, Reason. Desperation does not become you. I would like to rest a while, so please, leave now.”

“I offer you the chance to keep the Society in tact as it has existed for over two thousand years and you want a nap?” Reason laughs, but his face is not smiling. “If I have to carry out my work without the Society, I will do so. While you decide how to protect something you do not own in a Society that Christmas does not need. But the loss of everyone’s livelihood and history will be of your own making. It’s your choice. I told you from the start I’ll do what I believe is right. I meant it.” Reason shoves his chair back and stands.

The poodles congregate at his feet, seeking his affection. I stand too, just as Cassius begins chastising them. “Scarlett—Rhett, come.”

His poodles ignore him. Reason gives them each a pat and then takes my hand. We step over them and see ourselves out.

Cassius calls from behind us. “You don’t own the Gift, either. You should be careful what you threaten, lest you find yourself excommunicated and deposited on your rear end without the Society to provide for you.”

He does not sound nearly as sure of himself as he did earlier, though. Not even his dogs stand loyal beside him. They follow us to the door wagging their tales and frolicking at Reason’s feet, vying for the glow of his attention. He gives them one last scratch before he closes the door.

Cassius voice bellows through the hall. “Rhett, Scarlett, come here this instant.”

Reason takes my hand and shrugs as he says, “Well, I’d say that solidified pretty well, don’t you think?”