A Circle of Ashes (9 page)

I was putting my key in the lock when Thais said, “I wish you could have known Dad.”

Just like that, out of the blue. One of those twin things, I guessed. I bit my lip. “Me too,” I said softly.

Inside, Nan was waiting for us with Melysa, one of my teachers, in the kitchen. I hadn’t seen Melysa since she’d saved our lives last week, and now I saw that she was checking us out for aftereffects.

“Ready to do some metal work?” Melysa asked me.

“Yeah—just let me grab something to eat,” I said. “And that reminds me—I guess Thais won’t be doing her rite of ascension, will she?”

Nan shook her head. “Not this year.”

“Well, maybe by the time she’s thirty,” I said brightly, and Thais groaned.

Nan and Melysa laughed.

“What exactly is the rite of ascension, anyway?” Thais asked. “I’ve heard you mention it.”

“It’s a rite where a witch is tested on how much he or she knows on any number of given subjects,” Nan explained. “About spellcraft skills, historical knowledge, decision-making abilities, and even just raw magickal ability.”

“It’s an incredibly important rite,” Melysa clarified. “Passing it, undergoing the process, greatly enhances your own personal power. Quite a few people don’t pass it on the first try.”

“So it’s like the SATs,” Thais said glumly, “but for witches. The WSATs.”

“Yes, something like that,” Melysa said, smiling. “I’m sure your time will come. But Clio’s time is coming in only two months, so we better get to work.”

“I’d like to learn more,” said Thais hesitantly. “But it’s been so weird lately…”

“Actually, Thais, if it’s okay, I’d like you to hold off working any spells for just a little while,” said Nan. “You and I can start to go over some basic knowledge, though, about plants and properties of other elements. But I think you two shouldn’t work any magick together until we figure out what’s going on. Okay?”

“Okay,” said Thais, and I thought she maybe even looked a little relieved.

I shrugged. “Okay.”

That afternoon Melysa and I worked until it got dark—there were a couple of spells that are particularly effective right at dusk. She put me through my paces and I did really well, except for one little glitch where I accidentally wrote the wrong rune and had to start over.

But other than that, I did great—nothing went wrong.

Nothing got too big or weird.

I didn’t get blown across the room.

So what did that say about Thais?

“H
and me that magnifying glass, will you, Jules?” Daedalus held out his hand without looking up.

Jules got the small round lens from the shelf and handed it to Daedalus, who was leaning over a map on the worktable in Axelle’s attic workroom. Downstairs he could hear Luc’s raised voice, as if he and Axelle were arguing. He sighed. When Daedalus and he had first come up with this plan, it had sounded so feasible somehow.

“I’d forgotten how unwieldy the Treize is,” he said.

“Hmm?” Daedalus glanced up. “Did you say something?”

Jules gestured to the door at the top of the stairs. “Sounds like Luc and Axelle are locking horns again. Somehow I’d forgotten how strong everyone’s personalities are. Though I don’t remember Luc being so… volatile.”

“He never was,” Daedalus said absently. Keeping one finger on the ancient map he was studying, he carefully wrote some notes in a small book. He stood up, capped his pen, and looked at Jules. “Luc’s always gotten along with everyone—I mean, after Ouida got over their whole thing. We all knew Luc’s foibles, but they never got in the way, never interfered with any of us. It’s unusual, his being so… emotional.”

“Sophie,” said Jules, and Daedalus waved one hand dismissively.

“That’s old news. It can’t have anything to do with how he is now.”

“So is it the girls, then?” Jules asked, frowning. “I don’t see how it could be. His dalliances never—”

“Never reach his heart?” Daedalus laughed. “You’re assuming he has a heart, Jules. You know Luc. He has a porcelain surface—nothing gets in, and nothing gets out. Yes, we’d discussed his plan, his mission, in regard to the twins. And it seems like he failed, which is certainly unique. But I can’t believe whatever happened with Thais and Clio has affected him. There must be something else going on.” Daedalus looked thoughtful. “Perhaps it would be prudent to find out what that is.”

“Maybe he’s against doing the rite?”

“No,” said Daedalus, leaning over the map again. “Of course not. No, everyone is behind what we’re doing.”

“Not everyone,”Jules said, frowning. “Remember—”

“No, everyone.” Daedalus stood up straight again and fixed Jules with a glare. “No one could seriously oppose what I’m doing—you know that. Anyway, even if they did at first, they’ll come around.” He bent down to his work again. “Besides,” he added, almost in an undertone, “even if they did, it wouldn’t matter. None of them is at all powerful enough to really impede me. Well, maybe Petra.”

Jules was stung. Maybe Petra? Only she? Pressing his lips together, he walked over to the gable window and looked out. From here he could see the river and hear the blare of tugboats’ horns as they guided the huge tankers upstream. A haze hung over the water, and the last of the day’s sunlight shone weakly through it.

Only Petra. Daedalus considered only Petra worthy of concern. So Jules’s own power, own acquiescence, was taken for granted or not taken into account at all. And he noticed that this whole scheme, which he and Daedalus had developed together during the summer, now was Daedalus’s plan, his idea. Who was Jules? An underling? An
assistant?

Jules set his jaw, then schooled his face into calmness and turned back. His power. That was exactly what could change if they did this rite with the full Treize. The whole balance of power would change, in an instant.

“B
ay
,” Richard murmured, painting it on his wall. The silver paint looked good against the deep blue, and he stood back to admire its effect.” “Wind.”

Even though this apartment was only rented and even though he would no doubt not be here long, still, Richard had decided to go ahead and make his surroundings more comfy. His bedroom wasn’t big, and his bed was a single mattress on the floor. A low altar in one corner was covered with red candle wax. But the rich blue walls felt good, and now he was painting silver symbols and runes in a border encircling the room.

“
Collet
,” he said, dipping his brush into the paint. He drew two small circles connected by a U shape. Necklace. A drop of silver paint dripped off his brush onto his bare chest. Absently he smeared it with a finger, then put down the brush and lit a cigarette. He was standing in the middle of the room, planning his design, when he heard the apartment door slam.

Richard grinned wryly. What a surprise—Luc was still in a bad mood. He heard cabinets open in the kitchen, liquid being poured into a glass. Footsteps came down the hall, and then Luc was in the doorway, taking a sip of his drink.

“If that’s the last of my scotch, I’m going to kick your ass,” Richard said without heat.

“Left you some for breakfast tomorrow,” Luc said, looking at Richard’s handiwork. “You’re going to have to repaint all this before you leave.”

Richard shrugged, blew out some smoke, and tapped ash onto the floor.

Luc’s eyes narrowed as he caught some of the symbols. “You doing something here, Riche, or is this just for looks?”

Richard glanced at him. “Looks.”

Luc moved closer to the wall and tapped the symbol for feather. “
Plume? Collet? Tache
? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were working up to something.”

Richard regarded him evenly. “Good thing you know better.”

Luc drank, looking bleak.
Ah, the twins
, Richard thought. The lovely twins, with hair black as night, eyes green as the sea. Cerise’s eyes. Armand’s hair. Funny how their looks had been preserved so perfectly after all this time. Each daughter, daughter after daughter after daughter, had married. Some had married men in the
famille
, some had married outsiders. But for all that inpouring of genetic material, here the twins were, almost identical replicas of Cerise. As if they had sprung from her directly, without their blood being watered down over and over. His mouth set in a grim line and he went to pull on a T-shirt, carefully switching his cigarette from hand to hand.

“So you know Petra’s back,” he said.

Luc looked up. “Really? When? Where was she?”“Got back yesterday. Apparently she was up north, refixing Michel Allard’s will.”“In what way?” Luc asked.

Richard took a drag on his cigarette, acting casual, drawing out Luc’s torment. “She got custody of Thais. Plucked her out of Axelle’s like a chicken out of a fox den. But you probably know this.” He watched Luc out of the corner of one eye, saw him run a hand through hair already ragged, his face achieving yet another level of desolation.“Thais isn’t at Axelle’s anymore?” Luc asked, trying to sound calm and failing. Richard frowned. Luc actually seemed to have it bad, which was disturbing. Okay, fine, fool around with them, not a problem. But something more? It could be … dangerous.

Richard and Luc had always gotten along, as long as neither hampered the other in getting what he wanted. So far they’d never wanted the same thing.“Nope,” Richard said, putting out his cigarette. He screwed the paint cap back onto the jar and set it aside. “She moved uptown with Petra last night. I helped load the car.” He looked at Luc thoughtfully. “If they told Petra about you screwing them both, she’s going to have your blood.”

Luc flushed. “I didn’t screw either one of them.”“Sorry. I meant screw over.”“Bite me.” Luc’s hand was clenching his glass so hard Richard thought it might break.

Richard smiled. “And you would call it …?”

“A mistake.” Luc turned away, heading down the hall to the kitchen. Richard followed him, saw him dump the last of the bottle into his glass and slam it down.“So much for breakfast tomorrow,” Richard said. He leaned against the counter. “I’ve never seen you like this. And your uncharacteristic lack of finesse in this situation has raised eyebrows. What’s going on?” He laughed. “Oh,
déesse
, don’t tell me you actually care.”

Luc’s face hardened. “Like you should talk,” he said, quietly biting. “The way you used to moon over Cerise. The whole village knew. They thought it was funny. Too bad she wasn’t interested in a little kid.”

Richard felt anger heat his blood and tried to quench it. His throat hurt and he swallowed hard, wishing like hell Luc hadn’t just drunk the last liquor in the house.“What makes you think she wasn’t interested?” he said mildly. “Anyway, let’s just say my technique has improved in the last two hundred years. As has my success rate. Since the twins have given you the brush-off, would you mind if I had a go? How about Clio?”“Good luck,” Luc said bitterly, staring at his empty glass. “She’s a handful.”

Richard kept his eyes on Luc. “Or maybe Thais?”

Luc looked up, and Richard was surprised, though he didn’t show it. He’d seen Luc in every situation there was, from crazed drunken revelry to the bitter ashes of regret, but he’d never seen this, this cold, weirdly calm look of murderous rage.“Try it and I’ll rip your heart out,” Luc said.

“T
hey told you this?” Ouida asked, and Petra nodded.

Morning sunlight shone in through the plants hanging in front of the window. It cast green-tinged dappled light over the table, the worn linoleum of the floor. Petra opened the back door to let more breeze in.“Récolte soon, and as hot as July,” she murmured.“This is New Orleans,” Ouida said dryly. “Monvoile will come and go and it’ll be as hot as July. But maybe you’re not used to it yet. Maybe another two hundred years.”

“Should be cooler by Soliver,” Sophie said. “Maybe.”

A noise by the screen door made Petra look, and Q-Tip smacked the screen with one paw.

“Oh. Present for Mommy,” Ouida said, looking through the screen.

“Ick,” said Sophie. “Is that a mouse?”

“What’s left of one,” Petra said with a sigh. She opened the door and let Q-Tip in, then held out her hand. “
Tranquillez
,” she murmured, sketching a quick sign in the air, and the cat froze in mid-step on the kitchen floor.

“Why does that work if he’s deaf?” Ouida asked.

“I don’t know,” said Petra, kneeling by him. “But I’m glad it does. Okay, Q-Tip, drop the mouse.
Laissez tomber
.”

Q-Tip’s mouth opened, and the mouse corpse fell onto the floor.

“It’s a lovely mouse, Q-Tip,” Petra said, getting a plastic baggie. “Thank you so much.” She patted his head, and though he stayed in place, she felt him start to purr. “You are such a good hunter. A fierce and mighty hunter. I’ll put this mouse somewhere safe.
Déchargez
.”

Q-Tip, released from his holding spell, sat down and started washing his paw.

Petra put the mouse baggie up on the counter to get rid of later.

“Okay, where were we?” she said, sitting down again.

“Where you were telling us that someone’s trying to harm Thais and Clio,” said Sophie.

“Yes,” said Petra. “And I believe them.” She described the different attacks the twins had told her about. “But they said it hasn’t happened lately—not since the circle with the Treize, in fact. Which is why I let them go out to do some errands today. Did either of you feel anything that night? Anything off or dangerous?”

“You mean besides Daedalus?” Ouida asked.

“The girls were angry at Luc,” Sophie said stiffly. “Really angry. And there was more strong emotion, going between all three of them.”

Petra nodded. “Yes. I have to talk to him. Each of them says things with Luc were superficial—that they’re angry but dealing. Did you get more than that?”

“Oh yes,” Sophie said, frowning. “I feel sure—there was much bigger stuff between them, big, strong emotions.” She shook her head, her lips tight.