"I'll get to that," said Veruschka. "But first the other reason. Magic, you see, is mag-i-cal. Does anyone know what I mean by that?"
One of the Initiates raised her hand. A blonde girl in a ponytail. "It can be used in-structively or de-structively," she trilled. She said it like she was reciting from a textbook. I caught Lia's eye, who winked.
The Initiate was right.
"The purpose of the Schools," said Veruschka, "was to instruct young witches and wizards in the ways of Wicca. We could not have reckless crafters going about, doing whatever they pleased. That was how the trouble began in the first place. Therefore, it was decided, that the Wiccan coming of age would be after the seventeenth summer, but before the twenty-fifth. Too soon, and there's no appreciation. Too late, the mind cannot attain fully-fledged status. Brains have a nasty habit of becoming close-minded."
I listened on, interested.
"This Gathering is like Jubilee. For far too long magical upheaval has reduced the covensto speak nothing of our cousins, the Sons and Daughters of Romulus."
"Hear, hear," said Fanishwar Harcort.
"That is why," said Veruschka Ravenseal, looking around at all of us, "we have chosen to meet here, of all placesat this temple of significance..."
I didn't get it. What made this place so special?
"Amid the trenches of the Last War. The war we wizards made upon ourselves."
"It was not our fault."
"I am tired of running from that chestnut. I am here to tell you that it was.... But I get ahead of myself. Let bygones be bygones. And wizards wizards," said Veruschka Ravenseal. "We have Initiates to initiate."
She brought up her hands, from her long sleeves, of which only the hands had been visible; it was just a moment but I saw the adamantine swirls, like a fine tracery of liquid steel, that were different for each witch and wizard. They began at her thumb and twisted themselves up to a life-spot at the crook of her elbowthey extended themselves to the index and middle finger of her right hand.
It was said that a witch's arm was her delta, through which her magic flowed. The symbol of Power of all true crafters was in their Mark.
Magic flowed through her arm into her fingertips. It lit up her features and all other lights died out.
She cupped the flame in her hand and looked to each of usa fledged Wiccan witchand it was like seeing a shadow reflection.
I could be her.
I could be her.
I could be her.
I and the other Initiates stood in darkness. The Wiccans surrounded us. Their lights popped on and moved about us. I could follow the slow trailing of their robes. The silver symbols like bright fish lurking in deep depths. Veruschka Ravenseal raised her voice.
I wondered who had elected her; if there was even an election. Was Magic run by committee? I didn't know.
But it felt like Ravenseal was the best.
Like the other Houses had to kowtow to it. Which reminded me of the Lenoir. How in their arrogance they considered themselves the only vampires. Was Ravenseal the only House?
I didn't know how we could all exist, if it was even possible. Perhaps that was the point.
Ravenseal battled House Harcort, which battled House Coven.
I rubbed the thumb and index and middle fingers of my right hand together, imagining myself with the Wiccan Mark.
Imagining if I could possibly be her. This Mythic Chick.
"I know you are asking yourselves if you are worthy, if, when it comes your turn, you will show yourselves adept..." said Veruschka Ravenseal.
St. Martley's was so full of Wiccan potentialsit too was all-girl. Yet I had a father who was magical, and there were other wizards attending the Gatheringmale pract.i.tioners, themselves with the Mark, circling me even now.
I wanted to look at their fingertipsto see the conduit through which each of them crafted. More than anything I wanted a Mark of my own.
"Only a lineaged, second-degree crafter or higher-up, may invite someone with no powers to study," said Veruschka Ravenseal. "That person being the Initiate... Like the Great Book, we are tied, each of us, tied to each other, by the G.o.ddess herself...
"So long as Initiation is lineaged," she went on, "there remains an unbroken link of every magical adherent back to the beginningto the one true Magic."
"Blessed be," they all intoned. Lia nudged me.
"We pa.s.s... We move from the here into the hereafter. Our time comes. We turn from fledged to neophytes and back again. We pa.s.s through this existence. We are energy... 'When I die, my energy will flow...'"
The others recited it as a chant almost.
I rushed back to my room.
Dear Diary, I think I know now why Wicca is predominantly female... Even though a witch will call herself a wizard a warlock has a connotation of being a subpar spellcaster. Mother Gaia and the G.o.ddess above. But as my mother used to sayit's written here in her bookwhen I'm a rose I'll act a lily. Her Wiccan band has been 'immortalized' in my Codexalongside that verse. Witch (funnily enough, I wrote witch) after all used to be her Codex. I wish I could draw the Mark so that you could see it. Her Mark was like a flower creeping up her arm.
I wish she hadn't died, or been murdered.
They have a device in Rome, the Rota. It's where mothers used to drop their infant babiesthe ones they didn't want anymoreoff, like puppies at a night shelter. I wonder who stuffed me down the Rota.
Her Mark is too beautiful and obviously magical; it's full of Craft. She must've been a powerful, powerful Wiccan. If I could be a tenth of her...
And my father...
My mother loved my father.
Something Veruschka Ravenseal said about Initiationthat it was unbroken, that you had to be invited.
But n.o.body invited me. I was stuffed down a hole and left for dead.
Chapter 12 Volt and Pouch.
Dinner was a raucous affair. The Wolves were back from wherever they had been. We had fried rice croquettes and abbacchio alla cacciatora together with a sprite garden salad that snapped in the mouth; there was wine and even the Succo del Gatto I had not had since forever, its bitter spirits racing to my brain set everything right. The vampires were someplace else. I leaned toward Lia. Just how were the vampires eating? I asked.
"The what-d'you-call-'ems, Blood Cups," said Lia. "While they are here, killing people is strictly off the menu. I know what you mean though. I bet they can't stand watching us eat. It must be really difficult for them."
She took a sip of her aperitif.
I nodded, wondering how the Lenoir managed, with so many viable morsels wandering around.
My map was my constant companion. I laid it on the back of the chair in front of me. There were a series of tunnels that had no namesjust designations... Werewolfs, Wiccans, Immortals.
"Those are access points," said Lia. "Notice how the vampires insisted on being called Immortals? They just can't stand not rubbing it in."
"It's like we're segregated," I said.
"Separate his and hers everything," said Lia. "Just because we're having this fling, doesn't mean we cannot get divorced. Everything is structured to prevent confrontation."
"I just wish we could be more open," I said Still, there looked like there were other tunnels.
When I pointed this out to Lia she just shrugged and nodded. We were interrupted just then by Ballard.
He and Lia shared a brother-sister moment.
"Hey, b.u.t.t-face!"
"What do you want, Lia?"
"Not you here."
Ballard smiled. "My sister," he said. "Bet you could use a break," he said to me. "How about tomorrow?"
"What d'you mean?" I said, and stuffed my face with my garden salad.
"You. Me. Elsewhere. You can take out your Gambalunga. What do you say?"
"You mean we can just leave?" I said.
"It's a meet and greet, we're not exchanging vows," said Ballard, who also seemed to have marriage on his mind. He grabbed a piece of meat off Lia's plate. "Besides, I wouldn't get too comfortable," he said. He exchanged a look with his sister. "We're having visitors."
The word hung in the air like it was made out of helium or something.
"Does Gaven want to have a Wolves' Council?" Lia asked, her mouth hanging open.
I saw her look down to the long table; Gaven was in a heated discussion with two of the Wiccans, neither of whom I recognized.
There were more Wiccans than I knew.
"Even if he did," said Ballard, "you wouldn't be invited."
This was rather cruel.
"That's unfair and you know it," said Lia.
"What's going on?" I said.
"Gaven's orders. While I'm here I'm not on the Wolves' Council. Technically, you shouldn't even be talking to me," she said to Ballard.
"Ah, technically, Gaven can shove it, if he thinks he can tell me what to do. You're my sister, remember?" said Ballard.
"Gaven thinks that because I might be a witch there's a conflict of interest," said Lia. "It's not as bad as it sounds. Actually it's pretty sweet. He says I deserve an opportunity to be whatever I want to be, and if that means being a witch..."
They continued to be vociferous down at the table.
"Halsey?" said Lia.
"What are they arguing about?" I said.
Again, Lia and Ballard exchanged looks.
"It's nothing," said Ballard. "So how did your training go?"
I decided to let Ballard win. "So-so. How would you say, Lia?"
"I'm all over it," said Lia.
Ballard waited outside my door looking all nonchalant, which I knew was a very difficult pose for him, holding his motorcycle helmet and a pair of riding gloves. After all, how many more opportunities would we get to ride with winter coming on? I joined him soon thereafter, leaving Lia, who had her head in a book. Each Initiate had been given a copy of the Magus Codex. Apparently it was traditionary. A Wiccan stopped by to hand us ours. "Learn it," he said. I already had. The good bits, anyway. "Later Lia," I said. She waved bye-bye. I was excited to get out, the conditions were so cramped.
Ballard said, "Ready?" His face brightened in that Ballard way.
"After you," I said, and followed him out.
Ballard was chitchatty. The long tunnels were empty that led to our motorcycles. I started my Gambalunga. It took a while but it caught and snorted.
"I may have to adjust the fuel mixture," he said.
"You know I researched for this get-together," I said.
"And?"
"Well, I was thinking about last night, and our conversation." I unstuck the throttle and the Gambalunga made a bunch of loud fits. "Official Church doctrineand I'm talking Rome here," I said, "had it that all shapeshiftersyou, Asher, everyone"
"I like Asher," Ballard said.
"Anyway, if you were a werewolf, you were considered a witch, back in the day."
"Is that really true?" he said.
"Yep. And in Serbia, werewolves and vampires are vulkodlak, literally the same thing. So I guess what I'm saying is, we're not so different after all." I put on my helmet.