The Inquisitor's Mark (3 page)

THE LIBRARY MIGHT HAVE
been a pleasant place when it was open, but in the middle of the night, it was creepy. Jax reminded himself that this was also a secret day most people didn't know existed, so the likelihood of anybody lurking behind the towering shelves was pretty slim.

Deidre rapped sharply on a door labeled
STAFF ONLY
, pushed it open, and called into the hallway beyond: “Hello? It's Deidre Morgan with visitors to see you.”

The staff area of the library included a break room with a refrigerator and a stove, two couches, and a private bathroom. Jax wondered if the Taliesins lived off people's leftover lunches and slept on those couches.

A man stepped out of the shadows, making Jax jump.

Jax had met only two people of the Kin race before, Evangeline and Wylit, but this man had the same pale blond hair and stunning blue eyes they did. He held a candle in an old-fashioned holder, and he was dressed in
clothes that might have been in style in the 1800s—way worse than the 1980s clothes Evangeline had been stuck with when Jax met her.

Jax did some quick math. If this guy was about fifty years old, but lived only one day for every seven in the Normal world, he would've been born three hundred fifty years ago. Jax glanced at Evangeline, now dressed like a regular teen girl in shorts and a plain T-shirt. He'd once figured out that she must've been born back around 1900, before cars and airplanes and maybe even electricity.

Jax was a little fuzzy on history.

“Come this way,” the Kin man said before vanishing into a room at the end of the hallway.

The Taliesin men had taken over the office of the head librarian. There was no electricity in the building on Grunsday, so they'd set candles on the librarian's desk and on the shelves. The man who'd met them in the hallway went to stand behind another Kin man, who was seated at the desk, leafing through a large book.

This man kept them waiting while he finished the page, being rude on purpose, Jax assumed. Finally, he looked up. His coloring was the same as the other guy's, but while the first one had a weak, twitchy face like a squirrel, this one had sharp cheekbones and a large, beak-shaped nose. “Pendragon,” he said, greeting Riley without much pleasure. His eyes passed over the group, taking in each of their marks as they raised their hands to show the tattoos
on their wrists—which was the standard greeting in the eighth-day world. “The voice of command, an inquisitor, and a truth teller. Overkill, don't you think?”

“It doesn't have to be,” Riley replied. “We can keep this pleasant.”

Based on the man's expression, Jax doubted it. “I assume this visit has something to do with the assault on the Eighth-Day Spell,” the hook-nosed Taliesin said, closing his book. He stood up and looked at Evangeline with slightly less affection than most people looked at a spider. “If
she
was the culprit, and you've delivered her to us for justice, I must remind you that is not our function.”

“Hey!” Jax protested. “She risked her life defending the eighth day!”

“I was not
delivered
here,” Evangeline said stiffly. “We came to find out where you've hidden my sister.”

Taliesin paused a moment and then addressed Riley as if Evangeline weren't there. “It would be a very bad idea for those two girls to be together. They were separated on purpose for the safety of every member of my race. Our existence depends on theirs. Having them together would enable someone to wipe out the Emrys line at one blow, destroying the eighth-day world.”

Jax could see the guy's point, even if he didn't agree with it. Evangeline and her sister were descendants of Merlin Emrys, the legendary wizard who had cast the Eighth-Day Spell fifteen hundred years ago. The spell was
carried in the bloodline of Merlin's family, and Evangeline and her sister were the only ones left.

“It's a very bad idea to have them
apart
any longer, to be picked off one by one,” Riley argued. “Wylit found her brother, and then he found her.
Hiding
was not good enough. The Emrys line needs to reestablish itself, connect with old allies, and make new ones. They need to be strong enough so that no one dares act against them. My people benefit from the eighth day too; our magic is bound to that day. Without the eighth day, we lose our talents. I have to believe there are Transitioner clans who, for that reason alone, would make it their business to ally themselves with an Emrys.”

“As you did?” the hook-nosed Taliesin replied, his gaze dropping pointedly to the honor blade Evangeline wore at her side. It was Riley's personal dagger, the one he'd used since childhood, which he'd offered to Evangeline as a symbol of their alliance after he had gained King Arthur's blade, Excalibur.

“He treats me like an ally and an equal,” Evangeline said testily, “instead of a . . . a pawn.” She repeated Mr. Crandall's assessment of her worth to others. “Someone whose personal interests don't matter as long as I'm serving yours.”

Meanwhile, the squirrelly guy muttered and
tsk-tsk
ed to himself like an old woman. “This won't do at all,” he said to his brother.

“I agree,” the other one said. “We cannot support an Emrys clan led by this girl. She was educated in unsavory ideas by her treacherous father and allied with Kin who wanted to wreak havoc on the world. She can't be trusted to preserve the eighth day.”

Evangeline flinched at that statement, and it ticked Jax off. It was true that Evangeline's father had plotted with that lunatic Wylit to break the Eighth-Day Spell. But it was unfair to suggest she'd been a conspirator in his plans. She'd been just a kid at the time. Jax opened his mouth to defend her, but someone else beat him to it.

“I can vouch for her actions at the pyramid,” Deidre said. “She was
not
allied with Wylit, and she helped repair the spell.”

Riley flashed Deidre a grateful smile, but Beak Nose didn't seem impressed. “Nevertheless, a female Emrys cannot wield the family talent well enough to lead her clan, and she'll be susceptible to those who would use and manipulate her.” Here his cold eyes wandered to Riley in silent accusation. “I prefer that the girls remain separated. When they are old enough to marry, we'll choose appropriate matches for them and hope for a male heir who can someday lead the Emrys family with both magical strength
and
honor.”

Choose matches for them? Wait for a male heir?
These guys really were out of the Dark Ages! Jax had heard enough. He yanked out his honor blade and stabbed the tip into
the wooden desk. A moment later he remembered this wasn't really a Taliesin's desk he was damaging, but it was too late to take back the dramatic gesture, so he went with it. “You! Chinless Wonder!” He pointed at the squirrelly Taliesin with his other hand. “Where is Adelina Emrys?”

The man stammered, fighting the compulsion to answer. Jax had picked him as the weaker target, but for a moment it looked as if he might still resist. Then Riley joined in, his talent causing goose bumps to rise on Jax's skin.

“Answer the question.”

Jax's inquisitor talent and Riley's voice of command together defeated the guy. “Vermont,” he whispered.

“What's the address?” Jax demanded.

Chinless Wonder shivered all over, but Beak Nose grabbed his arm, lending him strength. Jax gathered his talent to try again, and Riley moved forward, no doubt meaning to get a grip on the man, which would increase his power of compulsion. It also meant this was going to get ugly, and the Taliesins would never trust the good intentions of any of them again.

“Wait!” said Evangeline. Jax paused and Riley took a step back, although he put his hand on Excalibur. Evangeline lifted her chin and spoke coldly to the Taliesin leader. “My vassal and my ally can coerce the information
out of you, but it would be better if you cooperated voluntarily.”

“Why is that?” he snapped, addressing her directly for the first time.

“Because I
am
the Emrys clan leader whether you like it or not,” Evangeline said. “Not some future male heir, and sadly, not my poor brother—who died because you couldn't protect him.
I'm
the leader of my bloodline, and I
am
committed to preserving the eighth day. You need to accept that. We shouldn't be fighting among ourselves. We're facing a crisis. The Morrigan was seen presiding over Wylit's attempt to destroy the world.”

Deidre sucked in her breath but did not deny what Evangeline said.

“Chaos is upon us then!” gasped the Chinless Wonder.

“Not if I can help it,” Evangeline said calmly. “The Morrigan may be guiding events toward some great conflict, but the outcome isn't preordained. The Emrys talent is supposed to run stronger in males, but I was strong enough to repair the Eighth-Day Spell. So
choose
, Taliesin. Are you really on our side, or not?” She closed her hand around one of the candles on the librarian's desk and whispered a string of words in an incomprehensible language.

Every candle flame in the room swelled to three times its size. Even the electric lights bloomed. The one in the ceiling flared impossibly bright and then shattered. Broken
glass rained down, and everyone except Evangeline threw their arms over their heads to protect themselves from the shards.

She stood perfectly still and glared at Taliesin. “Where is my sister, you horrible man?”

“Impressive,” Deidre said as they walked back through the empty library.

“Thank you,” Evangeline replied. She held a paper with a name and address written on it.

“If you're coming out of hiding at last, Riley,” Deidre said, “I approve. But watch your back. There are plenty of people who won't want to see you gain any influence.”

“Noted,” Riley grunted.

“That goes for you too, cutie.” She looked at Jax. “Be careful.”

Jax lifted his head in surprise. Who would be after him?

Mrs. Crandall narrowed her eyes at Deidre, then looked at Jax as if she wanted to stick a stamp on his forehead and mail him back to Delaware.

Deidre escorted them as far as the door, where she wished them good-bye and good luck. “Let me know when you've got the girl and you're ready to do business with the Table.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “I'm going to help Rufus and Enoch clean up the glass. As
much as I enjoy a good explosion, I don't want this library getting a reputation for poltergeists. It'll draw unwanted attention here.”

Rufus and Enoch? Really? Jax snorted. They were better off with the names he'd given them!

Back at the Land Rover, Riley spread a map across the hood and plotted a route. “It's about an eight-hour trip,” he concluded. “We can get there by midmorning if we drive all night.”

Mrs. Crandall cleared her throat. “She's living with Transitioners? Not being watched from a distance, but in their house? That's unusual.”

“Why?” Jax asked.

“Because it's better not to get emotionally invested,” Mrs. Crandall said vaguely.

“Mrs. Crandall means you don't want to get personal with someone who's supposed to be just a job,” Evangeline explained. Jax remembered that she and Riley hadn't known each other's first names until Jax had stuck his nose into their business, even though they lived next door to one another and Riley had been guarding her.

“Addie's thirteen now, but she was eight when we were separated,” Evangeline went on. “I'm glad they didn't make her live by herself, like they did me. I worried about that quite a bit. And Elliot was only six . . .” She bit her lip.

That was too sad to think about—how little her brother was when Wylit stole him away from his Taliesin-appointed
protectors and forced him to try and break the Eighth-Day Spell. “What are we waiting for?” Jax said, to change the subject. “Let's go get Addie!”

Riley opened the car door for Evangeline. When she passed him getting in, he leaned over and said something to her. Jax probably wasn't supposed to hear what was said, but he did.

“You were never just a job for me.”

Evangeline turned bright pink, but at least she didn't look quite so sad.

PINK TENDRILS ILLUMINATED THE
purple Grunsday sky at dawn, when they made a rest stop at McDonald's. Jax shook Evangeline awake, then stumbled out of the car, rubbing his hands over his face. He hoped he hadn't been drooling in his sleep. He was looking forward to bacon and eggs until he realized McDonald's wouldn't be serving breakfast. He'd only have a choice of what was cooked and available at midnight on Wednesday.

“Get whatever you want,” Riley said, leaving cash on the counter.

They helped themselves to wrapped burgers from the bins, and Riley pulled a tray of fries out of the hot oil. Evangeline took one of everything, as if she didn't want to miss a single thing in her first fast-food experience.

Jax couldn't blame her. She'd never eaten from a drive-thru or at a sit-down restaurant. She'd never seen a ball game or a play. She'd never been to the movies or even
watched a television show. Jax grabbed a large paper cup and tackled the milk shake machine. Dang it, if there was anything left in the pipes, Evangeline was at least going to have a milk shake.

They sat down in a booth next to a table occupied by a single tray of half-eaten food and an open issue of
People
magazine.

“So, which one of you is going to tell me about this Morrigan person?” Jax asked, chomping on a french fry. “Is she a Transitioner or Kin?”

“Neither.” Evangeline peeled back the bun on her burger to see what was in it. “She's not a person at all. She's a force of nature—the embodiment of destruction and chaos. The Morrigan takes the body of a girl or a grown woman or sometimes an old crone, and she's usually accompanied by carrion animals, like crows.” Riley shook his head, disagreeing, but Evangeline put her burger back together and went on, ignoring him. “She hand selects combatants for conflicts that will change the world, and she supposedly decides who lives and dies. There are reports of her appearing at Normandy, the Somme, Waterloo, and the Norman conquest of England.” She glanced across the table at Riley. “And the fall of King Arthur.”

“It's just a scary story to tell in the dark,” said Riley.

“Your friend Deidre believes it,” Evangeline replied.

“She's more superstitious than you might think.”

“Most soldiers are,” commented Mrs. Crandall.

Jax polished off his double cheeseburger and licked ketchup off his fingers, grateful for the hot meal. Then he realized something. “Hey! How can these burgers be warm? They've been sitting under a heat lamp throwing leftover light since midnight. Why aren't they cold?”

“Nothing will stay warm now that we've been here.” Riley pointed a french fry at the neighboring table. “That food will be stone cold by the time the Normals get back.”

“What do you mean,
now that we've been here
?”

“I keep telling you, Jax, it depends on the point of view of the observer. Don't you remember what I said about Einstein's theory of relativity?”

Well, he remembered Riley yammering in the car on their way back from Mexico, but as for what he'd said. . . . Jax's science wasn't any better than his history.

Riley saw the look on his face and sighed. “Time doesn't pass for inanimate objects on the eighth day unless someone observes it passing. No observer, no effect on the object.”

“Back at the college there were some basketball players,” Jax said. “Their ball kept bouncing after midnight.”

“Because you were watching it.”

“But I was watching a girl on a bike, too, and her bike froze in place.”

“She's observing that bike a lot more personally than you were. But if the ball was already in the air . . . and if the
velocity wasn't too great . . . ” Riley paused to consider it. “Well, it's complicated. There are a lot of factors.”

Evangeline slurped noisily at her milk shake. “Magic can't be explained with science. You might as well not try.”

Riley grinned at her. “You believe in the Morrigan but not science?”

“Why didn't you go to college?” Jax blurted out. Riley was smarter than he looked. A moment later, Jax realized the answer to his question was sitting right next to him. Riley wouldn't have gone to college and left Evangeline unguarded.

But Riley gave a different answer. “Bad grades. Take that as a warning.”

Jax slumped in his seat. Yeah, this wasn't a good time to remind Riley about sending him to school.

They finished eating, and Jax packed Evangeline's leftovers into a paper bag. They were waiting for her to come back from the restroom when they heard her scream. Riley reacted first, running down the aisle toward the ladies' room. Before he reached it, the door flew open and something the size of a large rat bolted out. It swerved around Riley, leaped onto a table, ran across the tops of several more, and came to a stop on a railing inches from Jax's face.

He yelped. The thing rose up on its hind legs and stared at him with black, glittery eyes. It was almost a
foot tall when standing, with thick brown fur and sharp-looking incisors. “What is that?” he yelled. It wasn't a rat; it had no tail. And its face was flat, like a pug dog—or an ugly old man.

“It's just a brownie,” Mrs. Crandall said with exasperation.

“What d'ya mean,
brownie
?” Brownies were chocolate desserts cut into squares, not dog-faced, tailless rats.

Evangeline came out of the restroom looking embarrassed. “Sorry. It climbed out of the trash can and startled me.”

Riley waved a hand at the creature. “Shoo,” he said gently. “Leave us alone.”

The so-called brownie turned and scampered toward the kitchen, where Jax assumed it would chew on the food and leave poop everywhere.

“Did you
command
it?” Evangeline asked Riley in surprise.

“Nah, I just have a knack with 'em.” He shrugged. “Not a skill I normally brag about.”

Jax stared after the brownie. “That's the first animal I've ever seen on the eighth day.”

“I told you there were vermin here,” Evangeline reminded him.

“I thought you meant
mice
.”

“No, not mice.” She shuddered. “I used to have a
terrible problem with brownies at Mrs. Unger's—they got into the garbage and ransacked the kitchen—and then they stopped coming.” She looked up at Riley. “Did
you
do something?”

Riley held the glass exit door open for her. “I saw you chasing a brownie out of the house with a broom one day, cursing and squealing and carrying on. And I asked them to stay away from our houses after that.”

Jax thought that over.
Wait. What?
Even if Riley ordered one—or two or three—brownies to stay away, how would that make them
all
stay away? Were they intelligent animals? Did they communicate with each other? Or did Riley have some special talent he wasn't sharing?

He hurried after Riley, wanting to ask more questions. But Evangeline was protesting that she did not
curse and squeal and carry on
, while Riley was teasing her, saying yes, she did—quite impressively, in fact—and Jax missed his opportunity.

Around eleven o'clock in the morning, Mrs. Crandall parked the Land Rover three blocks over from their destination in a little Vermont town while they plotted how to approach the Transitioners hiding Adelina Emrys.

“Their talent is obscurity, according to the Taliesins,” Riley said. “I'll bet they have other security measures in place, so let's assume they already know we're here. After
the events three weeks ago, they must be on high alert. Have you ever heard of the Carroways, Gloria?”

Mrs. Crandall shook her head. “Either it's a false name or they're a branch-off family.”

Jax knew some Transitioners traced their ancestry straight back to legendary figures, like Riley to King Arthur and Deidre to Morgan LeFay. But others had branched off and diverged into new talents over the fifteen hundred years since their ancestors had cast the Eighth-Day Spell. “Isn't there a directory of some kind?” Jax asked. “With all your names and talents and marks?”

Mrs. Crandall snorted. “Anyone who tried to collect that information wouldn't last long. Transitioners like their secrets.”

“I want you to stay in the car,” Riley told Evangeline.

“But I'm the only one they're likely to trust,” she protested.

“Someone with an itchy trigger finger might shoot at you before they realize who you are. They know the Eighth-Day Spell was attacked, and they have an Emrys heir. If I were them, I'd be nervous if Kin approached the house.”

Evangeline frowned at him. “You look more threatening than I do.” She indicated Riley's heavily tattooed arms.

“I'll go,” said Mrs. Crandall.

That was no good. Mrs. Crandall was six feet tall and dressed in army fatigues.

“I'm the one who has to go,” Jax said. “I'm the most harmless looking out of all of us, and they probably won't shoot me on sight.”
I'm useful. You don't want to send me away.

“He's right,” Riley admitted.

“No,” Mrs. Crandall objected. “Riley, he—” She bit off her words in frustration.

Riley pulled Jax aside. “It might be hard to find the house. That's the Carroway talent.”

“No sweat. Information is
my
talent, right? I'll find the house, explain who we are, and come back to get you.”

“We need a signal,” Riley said. “So I know you're not under duress.”

“How about
Riley, you suck
?”

Riley laughed. He'd once signaled Jax with the phrase
Jax, you idiot
.

At first Jax had trouble finding the right street. He pictured where it had been on the map and turned a corner that didn't seem like the right one, but
had
to be. Then, he couldn't find the house. There was a 15 and a 19, and a 16 and 18 on the other side of the street. But no 17—and no space for one, either. Jax gripped the hilt of his dagger and stared
hard
at the place where it should be, calling on his talent for information. Suddenly number 17 appeared: large and white with turrets and a wraparound porch.

“Hold it right there, boy!” a voice rang out from the house. “I've got a rifle scope aimed at your head. Hands in the air!”

Jax threw up both hands. “I come in peace!” he shouted.
Crap. That sounded stupid.

“You're not alone,” the voice called.

“No, but my friends are staying back till you say they're welcome.”

Jax sensed movement behind him and turned just in time to be body slammed by somebody twice his size. This man grabbed Jax's right hand, twisting it behind his back and away from his honor blade. Then he grabbed Jax's left arm and turned over his wrist.

“He's an inquisitor,” the man shouted. “Don't recognize the family, though.”

The scroll and the eye on his tattoo named his talent. Jax had figured out that much. An eye and a scroll meant
inquisitor
, just like the crown on Riley's meant
command
. The arrangement of the symbols and how they were combined with others were unique to each individual family. Riley's mark was famous enough to be known on sight, while Jax was nobody important.

“No questions out of you!” ordered the man from the house. “I'm a good enough shot to take you out without hitting my son.”

“I don't want to ask questions. I came to see Addie.” Jax gave the nickname Evangeline had used, thinking it might carry more weight.

The man's grip on Jax tightened. “We don't know any Addie.”

“Yeah, you do,” Jax said. “The Taliesins gave us your name. I've got Addie's sister with me and someone else. Someone important.”

“What's her name?” hissed the man holding Jax. “The sister.”

“Evangeline. She's sixteen. Addie's thirteen, and there was a younger brother, Elliot.” Jax searched his memory for other personal information about the Emrys family. How could he prove he was a friend?

The man untwisted Jax's arm but kept a grip on him and pushed him forward. “Start walking.”

“Uh, could you tell the guy in the house to take his rifle scope off my head?”

“Dad doesn't have a rifle on you. We don't keep guns in the house. Too many kids.”

There certainly were a lot of children. Jax stared at them in surprise. He'd never seen little kids on the eighth day before, since Transitioners didn't experience their first Grunsday until they were at least ten.

But these were Kin children.

They dashed out of sight when he was escorted through the house, all except for a toddler who sat in her diaper and nothing else in the middle of the floor. But they came back to sneak looks at him when he explained who he was and why he'd come.

The elder Carroway and his wife were in their sixties.
Their son was probably near forty. Seated in the back corner of the room, a Kin woman nursed an infant and listened silently.

“I don't sense any harm in him,” said Mrs. Carroway. “Nor in the others. They're anxious, but not hostile.”

Jax nodded. She was a sensitive. Riley had predicted they'd have one for security. “They're probably worried about me, and Evangeline wants to see her sister.”

“How do we know Addie's sister wasn't the one who tried to break the spell?” Carroway Jr. addressed his parents. “Do we dare trust her here?”

“Look,” Jax said angrily. “I'm tired of people thinking the worst of Evangeline when she almost died saving the world.” That crazy lord Wylit had wanted to wipe the seven-day timeline off the face of the earth and had needed an Emrys heir's cooperation to finish casting his spell. He'd hurt Evangeline and threatened her, but she had refused to help him. And after Wylit was dead, Evangeline had repaired the damage he'd already done to the spell—with some help from Riley and Jax and all their friends. Jax was proud of his liege lady; she was brave and selfless and deserved a lot more respect than most people gave her.