The Mortal Knife (12 page)

These gloomy thoughts passed the time more effectively than he realised and before he knew it the Crone was stepping away from Aron and setting down her pen. She bowed her head at him and returned to the throne. Nathanial and Heinrich helped Aron to his feet. His face was very pale and his cheeks and chest gleamed with sweat but he managed to bow to the others and say in a small voice, ‘My Light is your Light.'

The Curators stood up and said in unison, ‘Our Light is your Light.'

Heinrich embraced Aron, careful to avoid crushing his tender flesh in a bear hug. ‘We congratulate our newest brother. Welcome, Aron Mortson, to manhood. Give no Luman cause to take away the Mark you rightfully bear.' He turned to Elise. ‘We will now hear Aron's oath. We look forward to joining you shortly for the celebration.'

His easy courtesy couldn't quite hide the fact that the women and children weren't allowed to hear this part of the ceremony. Of course Elise would never do anything other than incline her head graciously and say, ‘Of course, Chief Curator.' She rose to her feet and indicated that the others should follow her. Adam dutifully fell into line and trooped out of the chamber, back into the passageway.

The heavy iron door thudded closed behind them and Chloe promptly burst into tears. ‘I can't believe they did that,' she wept. ‘I can't believe they did that to poor Aron!' She sobbed into her hand, all her sophistication deserting her. She was once again a thirteen-year-old girl in a very expensive dress.

There was a stunned silence, then Elise swept into action. ‘Stop crying, my darling! Enough! Your make-up!' A lace-edged handkerchief appeared from nowhere and dabbed up Chloe's tears before they could do any damage. Auntie Jo fussed around making comforting noises.

Even Luc seemed shaken. ‘It took longer than I thought it would. It must have hurt. Like, really hurt. Hurt
a shitload
!'

Adam nodded. Inside the chamber it had all seemed vaguely normal but now they were out of the room he could see it was just one more thing to try to reconcile with his everyday life. ‘Bet you're glad now that you weren't the first one to come of age?'

Luc frowned. ‘Dunno. Might be better to go into it and not actually know what happens.' He tapped the side of his nose. ‘Still, I'll come prepared. There's this cream you can get  … '

His cunning plan was interrupted by Elise. Chloe was still subdued but her make-up was miraculously restored thanks to several tubes and a compact produced from Elise's lace-covered evening bag. ‘We must go. Our guests will be waiting.'

Auntie Jo rubbed her hands together. ‘Cheer up! Not long till we get the grub now!'

They made their way along the corridor. The Oath Chamber was well soundproofed behind the heavy door but as they made their way towards the ballroom they could hear the subdued roar of a large and excited crowd. The guests had arrived during the Marking and been led to the ballroom by trusted family and friends. The passage widened and turned a corner, revealing double wooden doors, closed against them.

Uncle Paddy was standing waiting for them, on guard duty, keeping the guests inside. ‘Elise! My God woman, you get better looking every time I see you for a fact!' He grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips, then widened his eyes theatrically at Chloe. ‘And who's this vision of beauty?' He pretended to stumble backwards swooning and Chloe managed a watery smile. ‘You look beautiful, darling girl,' he said, kissing her cheek.

‘Where's my welcome you old rogue?' Auntie Jo demanded.

Uncle Paddy shook his head, apparently overcome with sorrow. ‘Ah, Josephine, don't remind me! Don't remind me of what I've missed out on! If you'd only been born a few years sooner I'd have thrown myself at your feet and let you walk over me until you agreed to be my bride!'

Auntie Jo snorted. ‘You wouldn't have lived to your advanced age with me walking all over you.' She grinned and they embraced with real affection. ‘It's good to see you Paddy.'

‘Well Luc, Adam.' Uncle Paddy nodded at them. ‘How was the Marking? Did he stay quiet like a man or sing like a woman?'

Luc grinned. ‘He never made a sound.'

Uncle Paddy threw his hands in the air triumphantly. ‘Of course he didn't! That's the Mortson blood in him! He's made of stern stuff is young Aron! Just like you two!' He winked at Adam, who smiled hesitantly. He wasn't sure he deserved the credit Uncle Paddy was giving him.

Paddy turned to Elise, dropping the patter, suddenly business-like. ‘Your guests are inside, enjoying some refreshments. You've done a lovely job on the place.'

Elise smiled. ‘Thank you, Patrick. It's kind of you to say so.'

‘The family are all looking forward to seeing you.' He winked at Chloe. ‘I can tell you that one young man in particular is looking forward to seeing a certain girl in a golden dress.'

Chloe's cheeks flushed. Elise kept smiling but her eyes were steely. ‘Yes, Chloe is looking forward to seeing
all
our guests this evening. Shall we go inside?'

‘Of course,' Paddy said, gallant as ever. As he opened the door and announced their arrival Adam shot an angry look at his mother. If Chloe had to get betrothed at all, why didn't Elise just let her get betrothed to Ciaron instead of casting about searching for someone more important? All right, Uncle Paddy wasn't technically their uncle but the families were close; certainly much closer than the Mortsons were with Elise's family. Most of their French relatives were too busy looking down their noses to be friendly.

They were greeted by polite applause and there was no more chance to ponder the mystery of snooty relatives before a swarm of people pressed forward to greet them. Adam's hand was shaken and his cheeks kissed until both were burning. The room was bursting. Hundreds of people had turned up to see the newest Marked Luman and they were dressed for a party. Elise fell into step as the perfect hostess, greeting all her guests graciously, admiring the height of sons and the dresses on daughters.

Luc was watching the whole spectacle with sardonic pleasure. ‘So, time to suss out the talent. Do you want me to find Monobrow for you? You know, the babe we spotted at the Summoning? I thought she looked just right for your future wife  … '

Adam scowled and tried to stay close to Elise. They had only managed to greet a quarter of the guests before a trumpet blew behind them. The double doors were open again and Heinrich and the Concilium were entering. The room fell silent. Heinrich spread his arms. ‘My dear friends. Allow me to present to you our newest Luman brother. I give you  …  Aron Mortson, Marked Luman!'

A sheepish-looking Aron entered with a beaming Nathanial. He looked much better, in spite of the raw black mark on his chest. There was an almost hysterical roar of approval from the crowd.

Luc grinned. ‘Let's get this party started!'

Two hours later Adam was sitting at a long bench with Luc and Auntie Jo. The air was rich with the scent of dishes from every part of the globe. Adam stared at the mountain of food on his plate, wondering where to start.

At least he'd been able to take off his heavy ceremonial cloak. After his rapturous welcome, Aron had to greet the guests, receiving gifts from the men and kisses from the women. At this point the girls and women had vanished to lay out the food for the feast ahead while Aron was being fêted by the crowd. Finally, flushed with adrenalin and embarrassment he had led the formal procession of Marked Lumen into the feasting hall.

All the unmarried girls stood behind a long bench, platters and bowls of food on display in front of them while their mothers fluttered about behind. It was all a bit surreal; girls in beautiful dresses and heels standing serving soufflés and samosas. The trouble was that being a Luman wife meant being a hostess, so looking good wasn't enough – you had to be able to cook and entertain your guests too. Adam imagined Melissa standing beside him and died a little inside. She'd think she'd stepped into some kind of awful costume drama.

Food had been heaped on his plate until it wouldn't hold any more and only then had Adam made his escape to the table. Luc had somehow managed to carry three plates back with him, which Auntie Jo was taking full advantage of. None of the girls had wanted to give her any food – after all, she wasn't exactly a prospective husband. Adam picked through the mess of dishes on his plate without appetite. It was all so cringeworthy. He glanced up at the far end, where Aron was sitting in the place of honour with his father and the Concilium. Elise's seat was empty; no doubt she was checking on Chloe's progress and pretending that she hadn't helped her daughter with the elaborate concoction Chloe was serving.

Auntie Jo scraped the last morsel from her plate and burped discreetly. ‘Lovely. Some of those girls should be professionals. Their talents are wasted at home.'

Luc raised an eyebrow. ‘You know, since you're not married, shouldn't
you
be up there? You should be catching a husband.'

Auntie Jo smiled. ‘Funnily enough, I was always better at eating the food than cooking it. Your mother on the other hand is a fabulous chef and barely eats a thing. Oh, the cruel irony of it all!'

‘But you must have done this when you were younger? You know, when you were a teenager.'

Auntie Jo's smile faded a little. ‘That was a million years ago. Back when dinosaurs walked the earth and all that. Anyway, you'll all have to marry good cooks and then at least I'll be well fed when I come and visit.'

Adam tried to imagine Auntie Jo at Chloe's age and felt a pang of curiosity. After all, once upon a time she must have seemed like any other Luman daughter, not the quirky character she was now. What had she been like? Had she been pretty? He thought about the locket round Auntie Jo's neck and the picture inside. There was something familiar about the young man in the photo. Had Adam met him before? He must have been Auntie Jo's intended husband but for some reason they hadn't ended up betrothed. Maybe he had ended up marrying someone else. Could he be one of the Lumen here this evening?

His musings were interrupted by Chloe's arrival. She looked hot and bothered but pleased too as she slid onto the bench beside Auntie Jo. ‘I thought I was never going to sit down. My feet are killing me.' She gave her gold sandals a baleful glance.

Luc smirked. ‘Don't get too comfy. You're going to have to dance soon.'

Chloe swore under her breath. ‘Don't remind me. One of the Chinese Lumen made me promise him the first dance. I tried to get out of it but he's like some kind of
stalker
.'

Auntie Jo raised an eyebrow. ‘The Chinese Lumen are big players. Your mother will be delighted.'

Chloe scowled. ‘I don't want to live in China. I want to stay somewhere close to Britain.'

Auntie Jo shrugged. ‘Britain is a small Kingdom. There are more souls in a small Chinese Kingdom than most of Europe put together. You'd be top of the pile if you married a Chinese Luman.'

‘Yeah, and it doesn't matter where you are when you can swoop anyway,' Luc said logically. ‘I mean, it's not like it would take you long to come home for a visit. As long as you were allowed to.'

Adam looked at the sudden tightness in Chloe's face and felt sorry for her. She was thirteen years old. She shouldn't be worrying about having to move to the other side of the world. Their world was mad. Totally mad! ‘Maybe you'll still get betrothed to Ciaron,' he said, trying to sound encouraging.

Luc shook his head. ‘Mother will never allow it. Trust me, she wants you to be Luman royalty. Ireland's tiny. She'll want you somewhere like India or America at the very least.'

Chloe scowled. ‘Yeah, well, Father likes Ciaron. And it's up to him anyway, not Mother.'

Auntie Jo was forking up the last mouthfuls from Adam's plate. ‘Don't worry about all that tonight Chloe. Just try and enjoy yourself.'

‘Have you even managed to talk to Ciaron yet?' Adam asked innocently.

‘How am I supposed to talk to him when I have to sit with
you
lot?' Chloe snapped. She looked close to tears. ‘I'll talk to him later.' She stood up abruptly, almost tripping over her long skirts. ‘I
hate
these shoes!'

They watched her retreat in silence. Auntie Jo sighed. ‘Welcome to the wonderful world of Luman womanhood,' she muttered and emptied her wine glass.

Chloe's abrupt departure left them all feeling subdued – and in Adam's case guilty. He was rubbish at being a Luman and resented every call-out – but at least he had some control over where he would live and work. Chloe would probably be a far better Luman than him – but just because she was a girl she didn't get that choice. What would it be like, knowing you had to leave your home and marry a virtual stranger?

Of course, Adam realised with a sudden chill, he would be able to stay in Britain but he would still have to marry a stranger when the time came. Male Lumen generally got betrothed when they were slightly older than female Lumen – but by the time Adam was Aron's age he'd be seriously expected to have a future bride in mind. How was he going to break that to Melissa if things worked out between them? He gulped at the thought of explaining
that
under her laser-eyed scrutiny  … 

He was glad when they were finally able to leave the tables and make their way into the packed ballroom. The room looked amazing. The sprung wooden floor glowed beneath the crystal chandeliers and hundreds of candles burned along the walls. A stage had been erected at one end for the band to play. All of the band members were male Lumen from minor families. By playing at balls they could get their families invited to events they would otherwise be excluded from – and give their children a chance at raising their status.

Adam felt a sudden, passionate dislike for the Luman world. The whole thing was sick. Here he was, swanning around, being eyed by girls who didn't know him just because his father was High Luman and they had loads of Keystones. Did his potential admirers even know that he couldn't guide a soul without throwing up? Or were they just as suckered in by the Mortson name as everyone else?

Luc of course was in his element. ‘Babes everywhere. I don't even know where to start.'

Adam snorted. ‘Yeah, but this isn't like Cryptique. You can't just cop off with someone and get away with it. You'll end up betrothed before you even know what's happening.'

Luc gave an airy shrug. ‘Well, on the bright side, if it's not like Cryptique I don't need to worry about you throwing up on someone's feet. Anyway, trust me. I know how to keep the mothers on side.'

‘It's the fathers you need to worry about,' Adam muttered. It was fair to say that Lumen took their daughters' prospects seriously. In his book it didn't make sense to annoy someone who could send your soul straight into the afterlife.

Auntie Jo was standing on tiptoe peering towards the stage. ‘Well, your parents are ready to start the dancing. I wonder who Aron's going to choose for his first dance.'

Adam stared curiously at the front of the ballroom. As hosts his parents would lead the dancing, joined by the Concilium – but tradition decreed that the newest Marked Luman would be one of the first on the floor. Every guest would be watching feverishly to see who he would choose as a partner. After all, this could be the first step on the road to betrothal.

An elbow hit him in the ribs. ‘It's Monobrow!' Luc whispered ecstatically, pointing across the room. ‘She came! You're all set for romance, bro!' He nodded towards the girl from the Summoning.

Adam looked at her with a mixture of horror and guilt. She was wearing a bright orange dress the size of a car and had her hair piled up in curls beneath some kind of tiara – but nothing could really distract attention away from that unfortunate eyebrow.

The Lumen on the stage were picking up their instruments and the band leader raised an eyebrow at Elise, who nodded discreetly. As the first notes swelled out Nathanial bowed formally to his wife and took her hand, leading her into a waltz. The married members of the Concilium offered their hands to their own wives – but all eyes were on a furiously blushing Aron. After a moment's hesitation he approached a pretty Indian Luman in a sari and jewelled sandals. She stood rooted to the spot for a moment, shrinking beneath the envious or amused gaze of the crowd, but managed to take Aron's hand and follow him onto the dance floor.

There was only one unmarried member of the Concilium and he was looking around the ballroom with an expression of unbridled resentment. He seemed to be searching for someone. At the same moment Auntie Jo cursed loudly enough to make several Lumen look around in surprise. ‘Oh, he wouldn't dare! The little snake! I refuse!'

Adam and Luc watched with a mixture of horror and delight as Darian approached Auntie Jo. His expression would have curdled milk – but protocol was protocol. Auntie Jo was unmarried and the sister of their host – and technically available. The fact that they hated the sight of one another was entirely beside the point. In fairness, the last time they had met Auntie Jo had revealed to the whole room that he had unsuccessfully wooed Elise. Clearly the memory was still etched into his psyche. As he reached them he gave a bow so stiff his spine almost snapped. ‘May I have the  … 
honour
 …  of this dance?'

Auntie Jo had frozen. She was usually the master of the pithy comeback but for once she'd been blindsided. She revved furiously in neutral for a moment, then sighed heavily, realising she was trapped. Even Auntie Jo wouldn't humiliate a Curator at a Marking ball. ‘Erm, yeah. All right.'

Adam sniggered and tried to turn it into a cough. It wasn't the most gracious acceptance. He watched Darian grit his teeth and whirl Auntie Jo into the centre of the dance floor. At the front of the room Nathanial was dancing with Elise. She was smiling up at him. For a moment Adam could almost imagine them at ball like this one twenty years earlier, both of them only a little older than he was now. He felt a curdling mixture of embarrassment and affection.

Luc rubbed his hands together. ‘Time to go a-hunting. Don't wait too long or you'll be left with the dregs  … ' He darted off sideways, his eye clearly set on someone – and a moment later re-emerged with a blonde Californian beauty.

Left alone Adam gulped and risked a cautious peek around. Everywhere he looked there were girls hoping for a dance, watched beadily by parents. A few of the nearest girls eyed him hungrily. He felt like a worm at the centre of a flock of very hungry chickens.

There was a delicate cough beside him. ‘
Bonsoir
, Adam,' a sweet voice intoned. He turned and found himself looking at a pretty girl with blonde hair and brown eyes. Her hair was piled into an elaborate mop of curls and she was wearing a dress that resembled a dessert; a frothing mixture of white net and satin. ‘Don't tell me you don't remember me?'

Adam stared blankly at her for a second, then felt his jaw drop with sudden recognition. ‘Marianne! Wow, you look  …  different!' He cleared his throat, feeling desperately awkward. He knew Marianne was some kind of cousin a few times removed – but the last time he'd seen her she'd been a snot-nosed kid having a tantrum at their French grandmother's house. Somehow she had morphed into a porcelain doll.

There were no tears or howls of wrath tonight. Marianne seemed perfectly composed. ‘But of course! It has been too long, dear Adam. You look
très beau
. Very handsome. And what lovely music.' She smiled expectantly.

It took Adam a minute to realise what she wanted. ‘Oh yeah. Erm  …  do you want to dance?'

Marianne's eyes widened to saucer size. ‘Why yes, how lovely!' She managed to sound surprised even though it had blatantly been her plan all along.

There was a moment of fumbling awkwardness as Adam wrestled her into a dancing stance. Happily his lessons with Madame Gauche-Pieds hadn't been wasted all those years ago. Marianne was a good dancer but the whole thing felt so contrived. It had been much more fun dancing with Melissa in Cryptique – even if Michael Bulber had managed to bring the evening to an unromantic conclusion. At least Melissa had wanted him there because she knew him, not just because his surname was Mortson.

Time had a funny way of moving faster when there was music on, Adam realised a while later. He was on to his fourth dance partner; he'd never been so popular with the ladies. Marianne had been reluctant to let him go and had made him swear they would dance again before the night was over.

At least dancing meant he got a good view of everything. Auntie Jo had escaped Darian's clutches (or vice versa) and was being squired around the floor by the ever-gallant Heinrich. Darian was circling Elise, ignoring his partner completely, clearly lying in wait for an opportunity to pounce on the object of his devotion. It was a slightly gross realisation for Adam that someone fancied his mother that much. Luc was dancing with a succession of model types while Aron seemed to keep returning to the pretty Indian girl he'd first danced with.