Summoned Chaos (21 page)

“You mean the Reformation Ball which is supposed to honor the amazing union of the Skilled and Normal worlds, but now seems to be nothing but a huge media blitz for you and Elsa Klein?”

I almost laughed. I’d forgotten about his sense of humor. “That’s the one.”

“Yes.”

“I assume Carrie is joining you.” Just saying her name was difficult enough. Bringing it up with him was herculean—we both knew it was the first of many wedges driven into our friendship.

My old friend nodded cautiously.

“I’m glad,” I admitted. “It’ll be good to see you two together. Oh, and I heard through the grapevine that she’s preggers. Congrats. Hope it’s human.”

The shock on Jethrow’s face was priceless. I smiled, enjoying the fact that for once, I’d rendered the man speechless.

“There’s my dad,” I said, waving at my old man. “See you around.”

I weaved through the small crowd, avoiding men and women decked out in their finest robes, each accentuated with the family colors or crests. Most were combinations of powerful pairs like reds and yellows. The Shifters preferred subtlety, wearing all black with red piping on the edges.

“Why aren’t you in your formal robes?” Dad asked when I approached.

“They’re at the dry cleaners in preparation for the upcoming party.”

He eyed me suspiciously. “I suppose I should be thankful you’re attempting to be professional at all. Even if those are your ‘everyday’ set.”

“Hey, this is a huge step for me.”

Dad sighed. “Yes, I know.” He gave the room the once-over. “So, how are you doing with all this?”

“All of what? The media fame or the attention from the Council?”

“Both, actually.”

I shrugged. “I’m dealing with things, but haven’t enjoyed being at home recently because the crowds are getting out of hand. Don’t care much for the protesters or the news hounds. I may need to book a hotel room.”

“You can always stay at the Homestead if you like.”

The thought of curling up in the comfort and safety of my old bed was tempting. “Thanks. If things don’t spool down outside my townhouse here soon, I may take you up on that offer.”

“Your mother and I would love it.”

With as stressed as I was recently, I would too.

There was a commotion near the entrance and the crowd shuffled to get a better view. The newly repainted doors opened, revealing a small contingent of nervous men and women. They were dressed in various garb representative of their religious affiliation. Accompanying them were Elders Devon and Bristol.

I frowned. The data I’d seen had made it sound like Devon and Bristol were against modernization. So why were they escorting the group?

Maybe they drew the short straws.

Devon looked, well like Devon always looked—perturbed. Bristol, on the other hand, seemed downright disgusted. She walked brusquely, her gray robes snapping at her heels. The religious personnel kept pace, but some of the older ones lagged behind.

Bristol was the first across the threshold, marching through the throng of Councilmembers like Moses parting the Red Sea. Her heels clicked with mechanical fury as she headed down the hall to our left. The religious leaders followed close at hand, but several paused to gaze around the interior of the HQ building.

At first I couldn’t figure out what the big deal was, but then it dawned on me that for the first time in almost a millennia, representatives of organized religion were inside the governing spaces of the Skilled.

Perhaps the arriving men and women wanted to soak in the occasion.

Then again, the entrance was still being patched together, so maybe they were wondering whether or not coming to HQ, the center of a lot of recent violence, was really a good idea.

Whatever their thoughts, the entire group continued through the entrance and turned down the hall toward the main conference rooms. Once everyone passed, the suck-ups and I fell in step behind them. Murmurs echoed off the marble, drowning the sounds of our footsteps. I couldn’t break out individual conversations, but what little I could piece together sounded as if our people were both excited and terrified of what was going to happen. Collectively they seemed to wonder if this implied that the bloody, centuries-old hatchet would finally get buried or if it was just another in a long line of betrayals.

Man, I hoped it was the former.

The small parade shuffled down the hall like cattle. I was beginning to wonder how we were going to get anything done with so many people, but that fear was squashed as soon as we reached the massive doors to the main meeting chambers. The religious leaders and Elders passed through unhindered, but Devon’s Admin Witch halted the rest of us.

“Elders and authorized personnel only,” she said politely.

“But we’re senior Council!” a Mage demanded.

“I’m sorry, but those are my orders.”

The Mage sneered. “You’re just a secretary with watered-down Skill. What gives you the authority to boss us around?”

The Witch offered a plastic, practiced smile. “My employer, Elder Devon. If you wish to take it up with him or any of the other Elders, they have a meeting scheduled for tomorrow morning. I can add your issue to the discussion items if you like.”

The Councilmember fumed, but shut up.

I wanted to punch the Mage for being so prejudiced. The weaker Skilled folks didn’t deserve to be looked down upon just because they were born a certain way. More important, the powerful didn’t need to flaunt their Skill.

But being a tool wasn’t the Mage’s only fault. She’d also chosen the exact wrong time to behave like an ass.

If this meeting truly was designed to be the opening dialogue with the various faiths, then the last thing anyone needed was someone on our side of the coin proving just how closed-minded idiots still held positions of power.

Maybe we weren’t ready for this meeting after all.

I caught Dad’s gaze.

“We’re considered Authorized Personnel, aren’t we?” I asked.

Dad grinned widely. “Yes.”

“Crap,” I muttered, and reluctantly followed my old man through the crowd, ignoring the rumblings of jealousy from the rest of the Councilmembers. The doors closed behind us with a boom. I felt the surge of power as a defensive spell activated.

I swallowed. The meeting room was the same one from the attack on Ambassador Jones. I could still see the image of her dead aide in my mind, the pool of blood gathering around his lifeless corpse. The far side was the antechamber where I’d beaten a Mimic to death. And enjoyed it.

Dad touched my shoulder, his face filled with concern, but I shook my head.

“I’m okay,” I whispered.

“You’re pale.”

“It’s just a little stuffy in here.”

Dad clenched his jaw, but released me.

The religious group spread out around the long table while the handpicked Councilmembers, which included Jethrow, sat in the chairs against the wall. The five Elders sat opposite the religious leaders. In addition to Devon and Bristol, there was Rancin, Queen and Marquette.

Ironically, the one who appeared the least concerned or annoyed was Devon.

Once the leaders were settled, Devon addressed the room. “Thank you all for coming. I think it goes without saying that no matter what, this meeting is already a major success. For the first time in almost a thousand years, organized religion and the Skilled are literally sitting at the same table.”

“Historic, indeed,” Rancin replied. She smiled, but only with her lips. Her gray eyes displayed nothing but ice.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us,” a tall, regal man in all black said. “We are truly honored to finally begin the road to formal peace.”

“I thought we were already at peace,” the Councilmember next to me mumbled sarcastically. He was younger than most, closer to my age than Dad’s, and wore the robes of a Wizard. I didn’t recognize him, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. The Council had grown so huge over the years that it was almost impossible to keep tabs on all the newbies.

Dad gave the Wizard a withering glare. The young man looked away quickly.

“Before we begin,” Devon said, “I’d like to apologize on behalf of Ambassador Jones. She wanted to be here, but is still dealing with the aftermath of the attack at her home last night. But she did send a message wishing us the best of luck with this endeavor.”

Ah, no wonder she wasn’t there.

“Father Pierce,” Devon continued. “As the leader of our guests, would you mind beginning the introductions of your people?”

“Of course not.” He faced the room. “I am Father Pierce. I represent the Catholic Church and am currently serving as the chairman of the board of directors for the Mosaic Group.”

“Rabbi Shorewater, Treasurer.”

“Shaykh Abbas, Member at Large.”

And so on. The introductions lasted a good ten minutes and was a top contender for the Most Boring Usage of Time award.

My mind drifted to Quinn. Where was she? What was she up to? Was she still mad that I’d exposed her to the media?

Man, I missed her.

I needed to do some varsity-level groveling, starting with a fancy dinner. And flowers. She loved daylilies. Maybe I should pick some up on the way home...

Someone nudged me, rousing me from my thoughts. I blinked several times before realizing that all eyes were on me.

“What?” I asked.

“Your turn,” Dad said.

“Oh.” I offered the crowd my Andrew-Approved Smile. “Hi, my name is Marcus Shifter. I’m an Aries and love Huey Lewis and the News. My favorite color is tangelo because it’s fun to say.”

Several Councilmembers and a few of the religious representatives snickered. The Elders simply scowled. Dad closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

Father Pierce seemed to perk up. “You’re the one who set this up?”

“No, that’d be my old man,” I replied, chucking a thumb at my father. “I just gave him Pastor Rado’s card. Speaking of which,” I added, glancing around the room, “where is he?”

“This meeting is only for the higher echelon, Warlock,” Rancin said.

“Did I get promoted?”

More snickers, but the Elders apparently didn’t think it was funny.

Devon gave me a predatory gaze. “You are here because you were invited. And while we appreciate his efforts in this matter, Pastor Rado was not. We can debate the merits of each person here, but that will just be a waste of time.” He turned to Father Pierce. “Speaking of which, I think we should move this meeting along, don’t you?”

The priest nodded. “Agreed. Apologies to the Councilmembers who did not yet have a chance to introduce themselves. If you able to remain behind after this meeting, my colleagues and I would love to talk with you. Now then, I believe we’re all wondering why Mosaic Group has been pushing for this meeting.”

Murmurs floated across the room.

“First, I’d like to give you a little background to our organization,” Pierce said. “In a nutshell, the Mosaic Group represents some, but not all, of the major religions of the world. We’ve been in existence for only a few years with a mission to help further the education and encouragement of religion around the globe. Currently we’re based out of the National Cathedral, but we make it a point to conduct meetings at the various temples, synagogues, churches, et cetera, to ensure we honor each religion that is part of our group.”

Councilmembers shifted with boredom. It was one of the few times I agreed with them.

Apparently Pierce was experienced at reading a crowd, because he quickly shifted gears. “As for the purpose of this meeting, the Mosaic Group believes the time has come to formally apologize for our collective actions over the past millennia. We are no strangers to your plight, having suffered countless persecution over the years because of our individual faiths.”

The Wizard next to me laughed, covering it immediately with a cough.

“We realize this is not a quick fix,” Pierce continued, ignoring the rather obvious skepticism in the room. “And we are not expecting that forgiveness will be granted overnight. All we want is the chance to publically and formally offer our apologies and to open the doors of our religions to those who wish to enter.”

“That’s it?” Rancin asked.

“Yes.”

The room was silent. Bristol was the one to raise the question lingering on every Skilled mind.

“Why now?”

“Because now is the best time,” Father Pierce, said, tapping his index finger hard on the table. “We believe we can help those suffering in the wake of the attack here the other night. We
want
to help if you’ll let us.”

“We have counselors,” a Councilmember interjected.

“And you should encourage your people to talk with them,” Pierce said. “Our faiths, however, can offer a different kind of healing.”

Several of the Skilled muttered under their breath.

Devon jumped in before the murmurs grew too loud. “It is a generous offer, but personally, I know for a fact that your group has grown more desperate to contact us of late. I have a hard time believing that benevolence is the sole reason.”