"Rayven said that I was different, Asher, the last of my kind, that he was too. He couldn't mean I'm Grigori, could he? I mean, am I? The Sons and Daughters of Romulus don't have magic, do they? And this Grigori did, somehow."

"He both is and is not Grigori.... Slow down, tell me about the grey wolf; for I do not know of it...." said Asher.

"It felt familiar. As though I had seen it before, but couldn't remember where. I thoughtwell, I thought I might be one of them, a daughter of Romulus. Instead it's like I'm becomingRayven It's like he's a shape shifter, but a wizard as welland I might be too... potentially..."

"Have you ever experienced 'the Calling'?" said Asher. "It's what happens to a young shape shifter, before they turn. At birth... a tutelary spirit watches over them. This grey may be your spirit-animal. Good rule of thumbor fingers, in your case: Don't discount the possibilities. Everything may be important or nothing at all.

The twilight under the trees made the day night. I still had Ballard's blood on me. I didn't think it would ever wash out. In the back of my mind was the knowledge I had failed him. I kept remembering Ballard fighting the Grigori, dueling Rayven. Now I got a sense of him as a fighter opposing the Dark Side. We all were. Rayven must be one of them. A member of the Dark Order, an enemy. I felt the handlebars of my Gambalunga, thinking, Risky, what have I done to your nephew?

I was filthy, starved; I needed a change of clothing. Compared to Ballard, however....

I noticed my feet traveling downwards, my stride increasing. A bowl full of some ethereal moonlight spread before me. It was a moment before I realized it was midday, time ceased to matter in Stromovka. I felt my Wiccanness awaken under the canopy of trees. No earthly place I had been to was like this Hollow. A tributary of the Vltava trickled through it, the small twisting stream full of leaping, silver fish, before it reached the river that ran through the heart of old Prague, plunging through the Districts of Magic, the places I needed to go.

As I pa.s.sed through the Stromovka it seemed to disappear behind me, swallowed in the tangles of Moonfire, concealed in the elder trees. It was Golden Hourthe time of day when the mysteries of the world seemed at their ripest, proof time moved differently here.

Could it be? Had the Dioscuri meant for me to find Stromovka? They were Seers, after all. The oldest kind. Perhaps they saw me coming here looking for ThemFind Them.

ENOUGH. The word exploded through my head. I will make my own Destiny. ME. I refused to live thinking otherwise. I put my hoodie up.

"Something is bothering you. What is it?" said Asher.

"Magic, my own especially. Of what kind is it, who gave it to me, and how will I develop it? Becoming Adept really. But now this thing's out there, what makes me think I can become Adept at all? Those kinds of things. And then there's Fledged... and who knows what that'll be. Nothing's easy anymore, is it? For if I am magic, shouldn't I be able to manifest, to invoke? To banish, trans.m.u.te, do away with, alter... levitate, entrap... part? To imbue, see things, project, shield, ward, demystify? Shouldn't I? I am without any of the things you would expect from one with my supposed gifts. My curse, therefore, is to know what I don't know; or, rather, to know what I am capable of, without knowing what I am capable of; to know what has escaped me and will not come back "My parents, and Risky..." I said.

"And I know. And I hate it. I hate myself for allowing this to happen to me. But I don't even know who I am, so even my hate's misguided. In short, I am lost, Asher, and I'm beginning to think, I may never be found. What do you think about all of this?"

"That you shall. You shall be found, Miss Rookmaaker. I do promise you that," he said.

I looked at him, skeptically.

"Now, now," said Asher. "Don't be like that. Don't be sullen. Very few people, magical or otherwise, have the wherewithal to find the answers that they seek; you should be glad that you do. I have seen it in your face. In the way you've lost yourself here in the Stromovka. Biding your time, figuring things out...."

I could not honestly say that I had been doing any of that. More, just randomly seeking out information. I told Asher, who sighed. It reminded me of the old times. He turned every ounce of his cat-eye cunning upon me.

"I wouldn't be surprised," he said, "if you should solve this mystery. Which is the mystery of your life. Open your eyes. Everything may be important, or nothing at all. Don't discount the possibilities."

"You know, sometimes you are spectacularly awesome," I said.

A flash, and we were standing in his village. Just bang.

"That is what happens when you unburden your mind," he said. He raised his arms before him, as if inviting me to take it all in.

I began to hear the murmur of voices; until now, they had been concealed behind shadows and the figures of trees. Looking up from the Hollow, I could see a flash of skyit was nighttime already. The stars were peeking through. The small intrusion a reminder things were not as they appeared outside or within the Prague forest.

In a sense, the Stromovka was like a resting place, a respite, of sorts, from the outside worldwhere I could figure out my dreams.

Sparkling lights twinkled in the trees. Rosemary and juniper sprung from simple stone columns, concealed in the undergrowth. There were vines and creepers, a whole alien world. It swallowed me whole.

"Welcome!" said Asher. "To the home of the Benandanti!"

Dark eyes peered at Asher and I as we pa.s.sed. They looked scared. Like something was happening. It was absolutely necessary I get Ballard back. I didn't work without him.

"We must present ourselves," said Asher, "to the Magister Equitum. At which point, the burden of what to do next will be decided. A lot has happened, since last we met."

I watched as a little girl ran up to me and said "Uvitat." She had striations of purple and green and gold, in her skin, and other exotic colorations. "Is she...?"

"An eclectic," said Asher, who watched her run away. "Her name is Sienna."

She was extraordinary. When I looked again, she was gone. But then her eyes poked out and I saw Sienna peeping at me. Just extraordinary. It was like she was a chameleon....

I was suddenly nervous. Ballard should be here, I thought. I was runner-up. I couldn't parlay with the Magister Equitum. No way! It was overstepping my bounds.

A domov was prepared for me. It was a bungalow in the trees. It had a round window and sparkle lights. But also a bed, wardrobe, and writing desk. I could peek through the window as I wrote in my diary. The domov moved with the movement of the trees; it was very high up.

Asher was anxious to make me feel at home. After all... I would be staying with the Benandanti for a long time. "At least until Rayven's caught," he said.

The Magister Equitum agreed.

When I asked him how long that might be, Asher replied, "Who can say? We haven't caught him yet."

As for the domov, these were the lights I had seen in the trees. The effect was like magic. The arrangement had its perks, but also one rather large drawback.

Selwyn.

Even now, he must be with thosethose thingsthere in Prague. The M.E. said we were very near to it.

There wasn't a thing about it I could do. My orders were to stay put. Rayven seemed beyond fledgedinvinciblewhereas I I couldn't stop thinking about the spell he had done. If I should wander, and be caught.... If Rayven should catch me....

I fetched out my diary and found the page I was looking for. A part of me realized how backwards this was. Trial and error wasn't exactly the best protocol for learning how to duel. Was it going to take my death to figure out which spells could kill you? I was suddenly thrust into the real world and I was unprepared for it.

That was the entry I had made, so many months ago. We were now into March. I bit my lip and scribbled fast, filling the chart in. Vargr noctum, I wrote; that was the spell Rayven had used to almost kill Ballardbut he had pointed it at me. How come?

I didn't know what precisely vargr noctum meant, but Ballard was in deep trouble.

I put a question mark beside it, and then I wrote remembr.

Somehow, this one didn't seem quite so baffling.

Rayven had shown me a memoryone of his memories, in point of fact. I stared up at a great mansion. Damp. Derelict. Destroyed. The grounds filled with willow trees. It was swampy underfoot. Filth and decay were everywhere. It looked Dead.

Rayven stooped and I got a close-up of his clawed hand. In it was a sign, covered in moss. I wondered how long ago this had been? Why was he showing it to me?

Rot had eaten away at the sign, but clearly delineated were two words. He howled and the moonlight broke through the willow trees.

The sign said HOUSE ROOKMAAKER.

Why had Rayven wanted me to see this, and when had he ever been to my parents' House? It was almost like he was encouraging me to find House Rookmaaker. The memory-vision had been only a flash, but I wouldn't forget the mansion, or the grounds, anytime soon.

It was real and it was in ruins.

Something else, and it made me nervous....

We tried to save you....

That's what the gravediggers had said. We tried to save you. They said that to Rayven. Save him how? By burying him? Were they working for the Dark Side?

It must have had something to do with the Last Rites. I wrote that in my diary. It must have had something to do with what's happening in Prague. Is something happening in Prague? And if they didn't save Rayven, is he in danger? It was my only hope.

"The war is starting. Battle lines will be drawn. She and the vampire are headed towards Prague. Find the other one and kill him. Do not let it survive."

"And them?" the hunter had asked.

"The Dark Order shall rise again, my old friend."

The Grigori had acknowledged the wordswhich had set him on his mission, a mission, apparently, that had something to do with me.

I scribbled the words in my Diary for a second time. I flipped back to the original entry, but I hadn't really thought about the words until now. Almost like the visions were waiting for me to catch up with them. My diary was suddenly hugely important. Maybe I should let Ballard read it. Perhaps the abridged version. Some things were too private, I thought. And I didn't know what I had said about him. My memory was like a sieve. It let things out.

"He's right the way he is. He's too important to be just friends, and he's too important to be something else"

That was dated around the time of my birthday, when big things were supposed to happen to me, that Diary entry. It was in regards to Ballard. I turned to a fresh page and drew out the following: But where did werewolves and vampires fit in on the list?

An explosion rocked the base of the tree I was in. For one split second I thought Ballard was all well and had come to see me again. But voices were running around. Something was going on. Battle lines will be drawn.

Whose side would I be fighting on? And Ballard? And Lennox?

What were these sides?

Good/Evil, I wrote.

Vittoria.... As for Houses... Where were House Harcort, House Coven, and House Ravenseal, in all of this? Where was my House?

The past, the pastthe allegiances are in the past. I didn't know them, and because of thatI didn't know the past.

I threw my hands up in the air.

"I need to figure out everything," I wrote. "Because until I knowI don't know." I closed my diary and lay with it under my chin. My mark p.r.i.c.kled apprehensively; it was still glowing. I looked at it under my sleeve. He's hereRayven's still here, I thought. He must be out there still, running around. Asher a.s.sured me: "Our defenses are too secure for him to get through."

For now, I thought.

The war is starting.

She and the vampire are headed towards Prague. Find the other one and kill him.

Not me. Not her. Kill HIM.

It felt like a breakthrough.

Maybe Ballard was Rayven's target.

Do not let it survive.

I didn't understand that bit. I had a crazy thought for five seconds. What if.... What if there were two Prime Movers?

Bear with me, I wrote in my Diary.

What if Rayven and his Master were saying there were two Prime Movers, the Wiccan Prime Mover, whoever she was, and another one.

Literally, find the other One.

Full stop.

A male Prime Mover. Kill him....

There was more to thisin fact, a lot more. What she was headed toward Prague, anyway? Me? As if.

And if I was her, who was the vampire? Surely not Lennox.

Wherever Lennoxlove was, he wasn't here, and I hadn't seen him in a long time....

Do not let it survive.

Since entering the worldin Rome, InfesterI had seen the world turn from crystal clear, to metaphor and symbol... even to prophecy.

I didn't know how to explain it, except to say it was very much like deja vu.

Weren't the symbols, in a way, like the visions saying they were going to come to pa.s.s?

You don't know you have deja vu until you see something for the second time, and then realize you've seen it before. And then it shocks you and you think Something is going on.

The echo of the prophecy was coming true. The symbols were leading me somewhere.

The war is starting, I thought.

What if... What if the Them isn't the benandanti? What if the them the Dioscuri wanted me to find is the Dark Order itself?

Chapter 9 Watchtowers.