A Feather of Stone #3 (21 page)

Next to me, Thais touched my hand. She’d just noticed the sky. She was trying to keep her fear down, but I could feel it. I was open to everything right now, receiving impressions from everyone and everything around me.

In the circle Ouida came and deliberately put herself between me and Nan, taking my hand in hers. So it was Nan, Ouida, me, Thais, Claire, Richard, Sophie, Jules, Manon, Luc, Daedalus, Axelle, and Marcel next to Nan on her other side. Thirteen of us. A Treize. Someone here was frustrated that Thais and I were alive and here. I couldn’t see any sign on anyone’s face that told me who it was.

“Let us begin,” Daedalus said, and as if on cue, lightning flashed and thunder sounded threateningly. Thais let out a breath, and I squeezed her hand. The circle began moving dalmonde, clockwise, and Daedalus began to sing something that I couldn’t understand. I assumed it was in old, old French, just as it had been in 1763, when this rite had first been done. I had a quick thought: myself, two hundred years from now, doing the rite one more time.

Jules began to sing, blending his deep voice smoothly with Daedalus’s. Under my breath, I began my own spell, first outlining the limitations, hoping I wasn’t leaving anything out, and then weaving the rest of the spell around me and Thais. Again I wished I’d had more time to practice, but the words spun out of my mouth smooth and light and easy. To me that felt like the magick was right. As the circle moved more quickly around the crackling fire, the air around us dropped in temperature and the wind felt cool and damp.

Everyone was singing now. Daedalus’s voice was like the main branch of a wisteria vine, with everyone else’s voices twining around his. They wove in and out and around each other, each one distinct, yet blending into an almost seamless whole. I caught the words
collet
,
tâche
,
plume
,
cindres
, which I’d heard somewhere before. Holding tightly to Thais’s hand, I finished the second section of my spell and began the third.

Nothing startling seemed to be happening, except the magickal energy was rising faster and fuller than I’d ever felt it. The wind kicked up, blowing our hair, our gowns, making leaves swirl in tiny cyclones here and there. The fire cast a pretty, rosy warmth on everyone’s faces.

From time to time I closed my eyes so I could concentrate on my own spell. Thais was singing next to me, and I recognized her song. She didn’t know Daedalus’s spell, of course, so she was simply calling power to her. Our clasped hands felt hot. The ground itself pulsed with energy and power. Wind whipped my hair into my face for a moment, and I accidentally skipped a verse of my spell, only remembering it halfway through. Damn it. I had to begin the third section all over again.

Thais squeezed my hand. Opening my eyes, I saw her worried face.

“Is this a hurricane?” she managed to get out.

Around us, trees waved and bent. The wind was strong and cold and smelled like rain. The clouds above us were churning, lit from within by almost constant lightning.

I shook my head. My heart was pounding. I felt frighteningly full of energy. “Just big magick.”

Her face fell, and I wasn’t thrilled either. Nan’s eyes were closed as she sang strongly, her feet sure on the packed-down grass. The fire’s glow glided over her face, softening it, making her look younger.

Quickly I plowed on with my spell, needing to finish it as fast as possible. Everyone was singing loudly, though the wind snatched our voices away, twisting them up into the clouds, spiking them with lightning.

Luc’s face was flushed, unbearably handsome, and my heart ached. Ouida, on my right-hand side, was intent, her smooth brown skin glistening with mist. Manon was joyful, almost skipping to keep up with the circle’s speed, her face alight with hope. And Richard . . . was looking at me, his eyes dark and intense. I saw his mouth moving but couldn’t distinguish his voice. We didn’t love each other, didn’t even like each other, and he’d tried again and again to harm me. But I somehow believed that he would never try to hurt me now.

Drawing in a deep breath, I began the last part of my spell.

Lightning struck so close by that I jumped. My hair felt electrified, standing on end. A gray sheet of rain drew over us, soaking us with one sweep. My gown stuck to me uncomfortably as thunder rumbled through my stomach.

My chest felt full and tight, my body so strung with magick that I might burst. I blinked and for just a second was back in my vision, watching the circle do exactly this: the storm, the song, the rite, the rain. Only this time there was no Cerise.

Just her look-alikes.

Fear rushed over me then, huge and terrible and stunning. In one second I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could hardly move: I was paralyzed with terror, an unnamed, animal-like terror that this was too big, dark, dangerous, deadly, and that I shouldn’t be here, I shouldn’t be here, I shouldn’t be here. . . .

Boom!
The world whited out, as though in a blizzard. The blast of electricity knocked me backward several feet, wrenching my hands away from Ouida’s and Thais’s. Thunder shook the actual ground like an earthquake, shaking people apart, wrecking the circle. My skin sizzled, and I felt the lightning even before it snaked down from the sky, crisp and thorny and whiter than the sun. It blasted down, blowing a hole in the world where our fire had been. Daedalus, Marcel, Richard, Ouida, and Nan—Sophie and Manon—they each shouted, all different things, all at the same time.

The lightning splintered, whipping into each of us, throwing me to the ground. Daedalus raised his hands in exultation, laughing, feeling the power. In the next moment the lightning jumped, enormous and horrifying. Nan threw her arms out as if to embrace Marcel, and he held his arms open, his face to the sky. Instantly the lightning coalesced, leaving all of us, and speared Marcel in his chest, blowing him off his feet. In its glow I saw Marcel’s shock, his face twisting in pain—and then he fell heavily to the ground, dead.

The aftermath was still and quiet. The storm lessened immediately, leaving a stunned vacuum in its wake. The drumming rain became a gentle shower. We all stared at Marcel, who lay faceup, glassy-eyed, on the ground.

“Oh my God,” said Claire. “He’s dead!” She looked at us all, dumbfounded. “Marcel is dead!”

Thais made a small sound of terror, and I looked at her. She was greenish around the edges and swayed on her feet. I staggered over and caught her as she was going down. Clumsily we both collapsed, just a few feet from Marcel’s body.

“What have you done!” Daedalus shouted, his face a mask of fury. “How
dare
you! How
dare
you circumvent the rite!” He shook his fist at Petra, who sank down next to me, looking ill.

“He wanted to die,” Petra said weakly. “He wanted to die, and someone had to die for the rite to work. You know that.” She met Daedalus’s glare. “I had to make sure it wasn’t either of my girls. So Marcel and I made a pact.”

“How
dare
you!” Daedalus shouted again. “Who helped you? Anyone who helped you will answer to me!” He looked around wildly from face to face.

Sophie was gaping, leaning against a tree. Her long, dark hair streaked down her back. Manon, on her hands and knees, stared at Sophie.

“No one helped me,” Petra said, her voice hoarse. “It was just Marcel and me. I’m sorry, Daedalus. I know how much this meant to you. But I couldn’t let you kill the one you wanted to.”

He opened and closed his mouth several times as members of the Treize turned to look at him.

“And who would that be, Daedalus?” Richard asked quietly.

Daedalus shut his mouth with a snap. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he ground out. “I wasn’t going to kill anybody! I need everyone here! You’ve destroyed my life’s work! You’ve destroyed our one chance to have everything we’ve ever dreamed of!”

“I’ve destroyed your chance to have everything
you
ever dreamed of,” Petra said sadly. “But knowing you, I’m sure you’ll create another chance for yourself.”

I heard a gasp but couldn’t see where it came from. Then a groan.

Claire drew in a breath. “Marcel!”

On the ground, Marcel coughed and groaned again. He blinked several times, then seemed to register that there were trees overhead and that rain was hitting his face.

“Am I not dead?” His voice was a rusty metal whisper.

Luc knelt next to him, his face bitter. “Marcel—you’re immortal, man. Get used to it.”

Standing, Luc looked at Daedalus, at Petra, at the rest of the Treize. Not at me or Thais. He shook his head, seeming disgusted, then walked off in the rain in the direction of the cars.

“There’s no Source,” said Jules. He pointed at the charred ground, the jagged hole blasted into the earth. “The Source didn’t reappear. This was all for nothing.”

“So this is it,” Thais said so softly I could hardly hear her. “All of this, the lies, the manipulations, the secrets, the alliances, the research—it was all for nothing.”

“Not for nothing, my dear,” Petra said, just as softly. “Maybe Daedalus’s rite didn’t work, but there were many spells being worked here tonight, many people calling on magick for their own uses.”

I looked down at my hands, where the bright copper bracelets still rested against Richard’s bruises.
Interesting,
I thought. How many other people were working spells, and for what? Had any of them taken?

Had mine?