Blood Prophecy: Kallen's Tale (14 page)

Chapter 12

Her mother and grandmother
have returned from their fight and her mother does not look happy.  I lean
against the counter and cross my arms over my chest.  I am sure my face does
not look any happier than theirs.

Xandra has followed me out
and her mother turns to her when she comes in.  “Xandra, there you are.  I was
just discussing with your father and grandmother how changed your grandfather
is.  It’s as if he’s not even the same man he was when I was growing up.”  She
shakes her head.  “I don’t know who this man is.  He’s become a monster.”  Turning
to the Angel, she says, “You tried to tell me, but I didn’t believe you.”

“He has slowly morphed into
this shell of a man.  It’s been a long time since I could stand to be in his
presence.”

“Is he under a spell?” Xandra
asks.  Even irritated with her, I am impressed at her desire to find a less
painful answer than accepting the fact that her grandfather is a homicidal
maniac.

The Angel looks startled. 
“Sveargith is too strong to be influenced in such a way.”

Xandra shrugs.  “Unless his
defenses were down.  Maybe losing both you and Mom was enough for someone to
sneak in and put him under a spell.  It could happen, couldn’t it?”  She has
inspired hope in their eyes.

Her mother turns to her
grandmother.  “Yes, if he was depressed enough, that may have given someone an
in.  Don’t you think, Mother?”

“Why would someone do that?”
the Angel asks.

“Power, love, money.  Aren’t
those the usual things people are after when they do things like that?” Xandra
asks.  No sign of her naivety at the moment.

Her father jumps in the
conversation.  “But why not just take over.  Why keep him in place at all?”

“Perhaps whoever is exerting
control over him is not powerful enough to hold the throne on their own,” I say. 

“And needs my father’s
strength in order to rule over the realm.”

“So, Grandpa’s like a
puppet, then?” Xandra asks.

I sigh and nod.  I hate
admitting that he might be under a spell, but now that she has brought the
subject up, it could explain a lot.  “It is a distinct possibility if the
changes in him have been as dramatic as your mother and grandmother claim.”

Xandra looks thoughtful
again.  “Is it just as likely that he’s become a bitter old man because both
his daughter and his wife left him?”  Okay, which side of this coin is she on? 

Her grandmother responds
this time.  “It could be.  But being under a spell would better account for his
radical behavior changes over the years.  I guess I have been too close to the
situation.  I’ve wondered if the Witan had too much power over the years, but
it didn’t dawn on me that they might actually be controlling Sveargith.”

In a quiet voice, Xandra asks,
“They could do that?”

I do not want her to feel
worse, even if I am still annoyed with her, but I have to be honest.  “Yes,
even the most powerful Witch can be spelled if his or her psychic defenses are
low enough.”

Now, she looks scared.  That
was not my intent.  I push off from the counter and walk to where she is
standing near the table and grasp her hand in mine.  Giving it a little
squeeze, I say, “If your grandfather is under a spell, it was probably years in
the making.  The influence so subtle, he would not even know it is there.” 

I do not believe she finds
comfort in my words.  “Which means he’s not struggling against it.  He just
accepts it as the person he’s become?  He doesn’t think there’s anything wrong
with him.”

There is no way to twist
this conversation in a way that is going to make her feel better.  So, I stick
with honesty.  “From what your grandmother says, these Witches are very good at
planting emotions and controlling others.  It is not a stretch to guess that
they can be subtle when the situation requires it.”

“Indeed,” the Angel says.  “I
should have paid better attention to the changes Sveargith underwent.  I was so
focused on his part in chasing my daughter away, I lost sight of everything
else around me.”

“Where is Grandpa now?”  I
find it interesting she can call him that after all he has done to her.  I can
think of some much better names.

“He left.  But, I’m sure
he’ll be back soon.”

Chapter 13

The next three hours are
tedious.  Xandra’s mother and grandmother have been mixing potions and making
amulets at a furious pace.  They are going so fast, I think there are several
that were not properly spelled.  But, I’m smart enough to keep my mouth shut. 
I am doubtful that Xandra is even going to need all the things they are making
her wear. 

As much as I had hoped to
find some alone time with Xandra before the battle, I am currently keeping my
distance from her.  A little bit ago, her mother added a necklace to the
several others around her neck that smells like an angry skunk who had eaten
bat poop.  I really hope the aroma is not permanent.  Love may be blind, but it
still has a functioning nose.   Xandra keeps holding it away from her, so I
think she is worried about its permanence as well.

Her father and I are taking
turns being on the lookout for the Witan.  I do not really have to be outside
walking around to do this.  It just gives me a chance to stretch my legs and
get away from the magical duo every half hour or so.  Every time I go out,
Xandra’s eyes follow me longingly.  I would like to think it is my body she is
longing for, but I am sure most of it is her desire to run away from the
craziness as well.

Xandra is in her own little
world when I walk over and place my hand on her shoulder.  She almost leaps
from her chair and the amount of magic she has pulled is astounding.  I take
several steps back and put my palms out in a sign of peace.  Embarrassed by her
overreaction to being startled, she closes her eyes and concentrates on letting
the magic go.

When it is gone, her mother
reaches across the table and places her ghostly hand on Xandra’s.  “You’ll be
fine.  Your grandmother and Kallen and I won’t let anything happen to you.”  My
relationship with her has come a long way in the last two days, obviously.  I
am hoping that means when this is over, I will be allowed to stay.

The phone rings and Xandra
jumps again.  I am starting to get worried about how on edge she is.  Her magic
is too dangerous to keep pulling it at the slightest touch or noise. 

Everyone stares at the phone
as it continues to ring; no one particularly willing to answer it.  The most
impatient person in the room finally does.  “Hello,” Xandra says.

“Xandra, is your mom or dad
around?”  It is her aunt.

“We’re here, Barb.  What’s
going on?”

“I just got the strangest
phone call.  A Dr. Louis just called.  He said he was an old friend of yours
from medical school and he was hoping to drop by while he was in Denver.”

The spirits are scared into
shock for a moment.  Finally, Xandra’s mother says in a shaky voice, “Barb, you
need to take Zac and get out of there as soon as possible.  Get in your car and
drive. Right now.” 

“Julienne, what’s wrong? 
What’s going on?”

“How did they know?” Xandra
asks her mother who is walking a fine line at the moment between sanity and ‘I
am going to kill them slowly and painfully, then hold their spirits here and
torture them for eternity.’  It is not a good time to ask her questions. 
Xandra finally picks up on that.  “Um, Aunt Barb, you should do what Mom’s
asking.  We can explain later.  Just go.”

Her aunt is beginning to
pick up on the danger of the situation.  “Okay.  Should I pack anything?”

“NO! Just go!” the Witch
spirit screams.  I believe she is only holding on to her sanity by a
microscopic piece of string now.

“Alright, we’re on our way
out now.  Zac, get your shoes and your coat, we have to go.”  The boy argues at
first, but he eventually sees the light when his aunt says, “Zac, shoes, now!”

And then there is quiet on
the other end of the line.  Whispering, the woman says, “Jim, there’s someone
at the door.  What do I do?”

We all say simultaneously, “Don’t
answer it!”

“Barb, can you go out the
fire escape?” her brother asks with panic in his voice.

“I don’t know.  Zac,” she
whispers, “we need to try to go out the fire escape.”

“Cool!”  Leave it to a child
to find the fun in a situation like this.  He makes me smile.

“Okay, I’m trying to get the
window open now.  It’s stuck.  Zac, come here and help me.”  We hear them
struggling to get the window open and a little pop tells us when they’re
successful. 

“Barb, look below, is there
anyone there?” her brother asks.

After a second, she gasps. 
“There’s a rather large man staring up here.”

I was afraid of this.  “They’re
trapped.”

Whispering frantically into
the phone, the woman says, “Oh god, Jim, someone just opened the door.  Zac,
get in the closet.  Hurry!” 

I close my eyes.  It is just
a matter of moments before they are taken.  The only thing I can try to
reassure Xandra with is that they will probably bring them here as bait to get her
to break the protection spell. 

I am about to say that when light
erupts from every pore of Xandra’s body.  A light so painful, I feel my retinas
start to burn.  Immediately, I make a circle inside my circle, to protect the
rest of us from whatever is happening to Xandra.  Even watching through the
circle, where the light can no longer hurt us, it is still too painful to look
at.

“Keep your eyes closed!” her
father shouts.  Good advice.

“Jim, I can’t see.  What’s
happening?”

“Flash blindness,” he says
grimness.  “I can’t see, either.”

“Nor I,” the Angel says. 

If the light was bright enough
and pure enough to blind an Angel, it is a wicked amount of power Xandra is
exuding.  Her body has completely left her chair and her beautiful face is
euphoric as the magic of the spell fills her, letting her do whatever she
chooses.  I know she has gone to her brother by the way her body slumps back
into the chair.  It is here, but her consciousness is not.  I am absolutely
positive she will make it back.  The light may have subsided, but that was a
symptom of her power – not the power itself.

Chapter 14

My brows slam together when
it is apparent that Xandra’s consciousness has returned.  She does not wake up
like she has every other time.  Instead, her body starts to slide to the floor. 
Letting the protection circle surrounding us go, I rush over to her.  I catch
her before she falls.  Lifting her up, I bring her into the living room and lay
her down gently on the couch.

Her grandmother, who is
hovering over my shoulder as I smooth Xandra’s hair from her face, says, “I
will get a warm cloth.  Maybe that will help.”

I give her a stony glance. 
Yes, a washcloth is going to solve this mess.  Why did I not think of that? 
Not able to meet my eyes, she hurries back to the kitchen to get her miraculous
cure.

Pacing, I wait.  As each
minute passes, I become more and more worried.  What has happened to her?  I
want to shake her or kiss her.  Or both.  Anything that could possibly wake her
up.  I do neither.  I simply wait.

It has been almost an hour
when the Angel brings me a cup of tea.  I do nothing more than grunt a no when
she holds it out to me.  I do not want tea.  I want Xandra to wake up.  I put
my hand on the Angel’s arm and pull her to the corner of the room.

“Why is she like this?”

She shakes her head.  “I
don’t know.  Honestly.  This shouldn’t be happening.” 

What a poor excuse for an
answer.  “Whether it should be or not, it is.  How do we make it stop?”

“I don’t know.  In all my
years, this has never happened.  We knew that when we fell that our connection
wouldn’t be as strong.  It should be a protection circle, nothing more.”

“But she has not fallen. 
Therein may lay the problem.”

“No, it shouldn’t make a
difference.  Her blood should be weakened regardless.”

“Has there ever been such a
magical mixing of blood?”

I hear a gentle rustle
coming from the direction of the couch.  It seems a hushed conversation that
she can barely hear was the key to rousing Xandra.  Turning to her, I am back
by her side in two strides.

Kneeling down, I cup her
cheek gently in my hand.  “Do you think you could manage to go a little longer
between attempts to drive us out of our minds with worry?”  I attempt to smile,
but my plea is too real to fake my emotions.

She is able to smile.  “Sorry,
I have to meet my quota.  If I don’t do it at least three times a day, they’ll
revoke my magic license.”

Any worry that she has been
permanently brain damaged leaves my mind.  Raising a brow skeptically, I ask,
“And who, exactly, would give you a license to practice magic?”

“I have connections in high
places.  I am related to kings, you know.”

I tilt my head and laugh.  “Yet
you deign to be in the company of a lowly peasant such as myself.  How
fortunate I am.”

“I hate to interrupt,” the
Angel says from behind me, “but how are you feeling, dear?”

“Other than a bit of a headache,
I feel fine.  How long have I been out?”

I push a strand of hair
behind her ear.  “Only an hour this time.  Just long enough for me to reverse
your wild magic,” I tease.

She groans.  “What did I do
this time?” 

The Angel gives me a dirty
look before answering.  Obviously, she is not in a teasing mood.  “Nothing that
couldn’t be fixed.”  Turning back to Xandra, she says, “The important thing is
figuring out what happened to you.”

Xandra attempts to sit up. 
The way she puts her hand to her head tells me she is not feeling as well as
she would like us to believe.  “I went to Denver.”

My relief turns to anger in
the amount of time it took her to say those four little words.  “Did they scry
for you again with a stronger spell?”

She shakes her head, but I
believe it hurts her and she stops.  “No, apparently, I can go without them
doing that.”

My gaze returns to the
Angel.  I do not know why.  It is not like she is going to have an answer for
us. 

“So, any chance you two want
to tell me what you were whispering about?”

I turn my face into a blank
page as fast as I can.  The Angel attempts to do so, but she cannot overcome
the worry on her face.  Xandra glowers at the both of us.  “Uh huh, that’s what
I thought.” 

She tries to stand.  I
assume she wants to storm off, but all that happens is she falls back onto the
couch.  I try hard not to laugh, but she looks so cute sitting there all pissed
off and not able to get up.  It is really hard not to. 

“Perhaps you should lie down
for a few more minutes,” the Angel says.

“Fine,” she pouts.  “Where
are Mom and Dad?”

“Your mother is looking for
any sign of your Grandfather or the Witan.  We figured they must be close if
they scried for you again.”  I tried to explain to her that I would be able to
sense them, but I believe she needed to be doing something to keep from having
a nervous breakdown.

“No, they were all in Denver
going after Zac and Aunt Barb.  How do you think they found them?”

The Angel looks guilty
again.  Good, she should feel guilty.  After a moment, she says, “Because they
do not rely entirely on their magic to find some people.  They also use high
tech gadgets such as phone bugs.  Your grandfather planted one while he was here.”

Xandra’s face becomes a
picture of rage so fierce, I actually lean back from her.  “And you waited
until now to bring this up?  Don’t you think we should have known they did
things like this before we let them listen in on our phone calls?  You put Aunt
Barb and Zac in danger!”  She has risen from the couch and has backed her
grandmother across the room to the far wall. 

I follow and put my hand on
Xandra’s shoulder.  I do not want her to do something she will hate herself for
later.  “Xandra, your father has already been through this with your
grandmother.”  As soon as I brought Xandra into the living room, everyone began
brainstorming what spell they could have used to discover Zac and his aunt.  It
was then that the Angel brought up the Cowan technology.  Impressed as I am
that there are such interesting gadgets, I began to hate her even more at that
moment.  That was a huge piece of information she chose to leave out.  My
protection circles cannot ensure no one is listening through the phone line.  

Xandra’s father knows some
unbelievably colorful words.  I have considered writing a few of them down to
be used at a later date.  I am sure there will be others in this realm who will
make me angry and it will be nice to be prepared.  Needless to say, all of
those words were aimed at the Angel.  She cried.  For an annoyingly long time.

Pulling Xandra back against
me so that I can wrap my arms around her, I whisper calming words in her ears. 
I do not know if she can hear them over her grandmother’s blabbering, though. 

“I am so sorry.  It never
even dawned on me that they would use anything other than magic.  I’m afraid
I’ve kept myself too ignorant of the methods they use to track errant Witches.”

Xandra will not be mollified
any easier than her father.  “What, exactly, have you paid attention to over
the last eighteen years?”

“Hardly anything,” her
grandmother whispers.  I almost groan out loud.  Please tell me Xandra is not
going to fall for this pathetic behavior.

Xandra groans out loud. 
Actually, it is more like a growl.  A feral growl.  I do not hesitate to open
my arms when she starts walking away.  I do not want to be on the receiving end
of whatever is going through her head.  A few seconds later, the bathroom door
slams closed.