I held it up, rubbing it with my Wiccan fingertips. This was mine, I thought. It meant I was supposed to be taken by a different House. Not Veruschka's. Only, the person who was supposed to have done so, wasn't able to select mehad been prevented. By whom? The Lenoir? The Master House? I looked at Blackstock....

"I'm Halsey Rookmaakerand, well, House Rookmaaker," I said. "The person who gave me this was in my House. Only, he's an Eclectic. We both are. But that's all over with, because I believe I can find my parents' House I belong in Rome, not in Ravenseal."

I looked at the Marker with the number six on it. Where I had been rubbing it, words had appeared. Written on the Marker, in handwriting that could only have been Selwyn's, was a message: "BEWARE THE DARK PATH."

Blackstock motioned for a witch, who whispered in his ear, briefly. "I see," he said.

Ballard continued to sniff and paw the ground. Had Ballard taken the opportunity to see if Selwyn was really at the Master House? His fur was standing on end. I looked at him, thinking, What is the Dark Path? Hurriedly, I rubbed the Marker. The message disappeared. I rubbed it again. It reappeared. There must've been some kind of spell put upon it. I erased it before anyone could see.

"According to Siobhan," said Blackstock, "there is no record of House Rookmaaker in our Heraldic Hall. However, the Marker was sentwhich means, either the Hall of Records has made a mistake, which I doubt, or someone does not want that House found."

"There! You see? She belongs to me!" said Veruschka.

"Having said that," Blackstock went on, "I have read no rule that an Initiate must absolutely complete a course of study with any House, regardless of how they may have been selected. Miss Rookmaaker, is it your intention to join House Ravenseal? They would do wonders for your career, you know?"

I shook my head no.

"Then, if you're certain," said Blackstock, "I have no choice but to free you of that commitment, and that, Veruschka, is final. Now, Miss Rookmaaker, you are aware that magistrae, or mistresses as they're sometimes known, outside of Prague, must be thirds, are you not, if they're to lead their own House? Even if you were to find House Rookmaaker, I could not let you proceed, unless it was held in interregesan interim Head running the show until the day you turn fledgedat which point the House and its running would be turned over to youwith all of the responsibility that that entails. So that's what I'm recommending. I'm going to give you an opportunity to solve this little puzzle. If House Rookmaaker existsas you say it doesand you can find itthen I'm sure we'll have gained a wonderful new Houseor an old House, as the case may be. Veruschka?"

She eyed him, saying nothing. "Good," said Blackstock. "Then, if there's nothing else"

"There is one other thing," said Lennox.

"By all means. Anything for one of the Lenoir," said Blackstock.

Privately, I thought, Who would attack the vampires?

Lennox whistled. Ma.s.simo appeared, followed by Menelaus.

"He's ravingand that's when he's coherent," said Menelaus, dragging someone behind him.

"We think aetherheads got to him, sir," said Ma.s.simo, showing us.

Selwyn was with them! He looked terrible: Hair all over the place, like he had been held somewhere against his will, or worse, driven mad...

I tried reading his mind, but it was shut down. The aether cloud was still around Selwyn. I could not penetrate it.

"We think someone may have done something to him, sir, tampered with his mind, likesay. He's not cut," said Ma.s.simo proudly. "His therian is still intact."

The rest of the wizards made way for Selwyn who stood before ushis hair was disheveled, his eyes a dazzling shade of blue.

"Aether. I knew it," said one.

"I haven't seen this brand of magic before," said Blackstock, peering at Selwyn intently. "It's almost like but nothat's impossible. Luxyou're a virtuososee if you can read his mind."

Blackstock stood back. Lux rolled up his sleeves. I again was treated to his amazing mark. But whatever he tried, it didn't work.

"Even with the tridents, my magic is too weak," he said.

"The reason I ask," said Blackstock, "is because I've read about this. But it was so long ago. It's something the Fifth of Fourth used to do. Mess in wizards' minds. But they're gone nowthey cannot be back"

"I have reason to believe that that is not entirely true, sir," said Lux. "I a.s.sume you've been reading the newspapers?"

"Houses are being destroyed. So what of it?" said Blackstock.

"Wasn't that His maneuver, sir? I mean, back in the day? He was a necromancer and they never die," said Lux.

"But the Dark Lord backit's just impossible"

"You know I've told you about this Hiving business will come to no good," said Lux. "Wizards and witches should be able to make their own decisions. The ardanes are more like amendments, after allthey can be repealed."

"Even if that were so, we cannot fight Shadows. Let them come out into the open, Lux."

"But this type of enemy does not fight in the open, sir," said Lux. "Whoever's doing this is organizedeverywhere. It's just as He operated before."

I watched Veruschka out of the corner of my eye, but if she was involved in any of this, she didn't let on.

Ballard trotted off into one of the corners and came back as himself. I tried to read his eyes, but he avoided my gaze. Selwyn was alternately in and out, mumbling nonsense words, or else catatonic. "Sed esse in silentium," he hissed, "sed esse in silentium."

Blackstock said, "They must be copycatting, Lux! That'll be it! They read what He didbut they have not his power, none have. No! I'll hear no differently!"

Lux tried to protest but Blackstock overrode him. "I will monitor the situation. The Council of Magic is not a rash body. We need more time, Lux. Let's see how things develop. Until then, I suggest we all go about our business. Agreed?"

"Aye!" said the members of the Council.

"May I say my piece now?" said Veruschka. "Because I've been patient long enough."

"By all means," said Blackstock.

"That 'sed esse in silentium' business, it means 'the silent existence'; it's what the vampires in Paris are so big on, Arty," said Veruschka. "Before you start talking about the Dark Order and dredging up unfortunate memories you might want to have a talk with them. After all, they've made it their business to destroy Houses.

"As for Miss Rookmaaker, she may 'go her own way,' yes, but I'll be watching her, and I'll be ready. You can bend rules only so far before they break, and there I'll be, Miss Rookmaaker."

The Ravenseals departed. You to your corner, we to ours. Lennox had the Star Wheel in his arms, ready to go. My Gambalunga, I thought, Ballard's motorcycle; we needed to get our stuff.

Lux knelt beside Selwyn and put his three fingertips on him. I watched as the panther slowly materialized. Selwyn was gone, but not forever. The black cat was in his place. Its blue eyes shone and Professor Lux stood back. "His therian will look out for him until he's ready to return," he said.

The touch of Selwyn's fur was electric. Ballard and I had accomplished what we'd set out to do. Now, it was getting back that would be the challenge.

Chapter 14 The Trial.

The trouble was we were about six hundred miles from Rome, and you couldn't exactly take a giant black panther on the Eurorail.

The sun was pale in the east and the Silver Lindens ranged high overhead, when we finally left Prague. It was just Ballard and me. Lennox was taking Selwyn back separately. Selwyn's mind was still a blank. That part of him was too deeply submerged, I wrote in my Diary. Still, half a protector was better than none, especially as Selwyn had giant claws and could rip to shreds anyone who tried messing with me, Veruschka, et al.

So what if I didn't want to join their House? They should've just taken Vittoria, anyway. I bet she'd go with them, if they'd just ask her real nice. Perhaps I'd suggest it to her, when I got back: Hey, V, good news! Ravenseal has an opening! Now you can leave here and never come back, biiitch!

Ballard and I were making our way through Central Europe. Crossing borders reminded me again my visa was up. Naturally, we avoided several spot checks.

The thing was, I needed a permesso di soggiorno, a permit to stay, when I got back to Italy. Otherwise, the EU could kick me out. I could apply for a work permit, but those were difficult to get.

"Mr. Person In the Questuraplease, please, please," I said to myself, "I was born in Rome, I just can't prove itbut if you check my Wiccan House you know, where the magic's at"

I was a foreigner who wasn't, an emigre who never emigrated. Plus, I didn't exactly have time to work a day job. Things were out there. I needed to open House Rookmaaker. The Grigori were coming. They had already attacked once in a maneuver to unseat us. Before I knew it, Ballard and I were in the Veneto, the plains beneath the Dolomites. The last of the drumlins receded past my taillamp. Here were lakes so blue, I saw the sky reflecting back at me. If only I knew what to do, I thought.

It was the twentieth of May; the annual solar eclipse floated over Rome, welcoming us back. Beat, I looked forward to getting back to my room. But on the outskirts of Rome, we were prevented from advancing by a line of motorcycles and their Riders revving their engines, looking at Ballard and me like we were total strangers. I couldn't tell who they were. Just, that they were not the usual I Gatti. Or were they? They kept their helmets on and their visors down. We couldn't see their faces.

Ballard cut off his engine. On every Rider were black leather jackets with the words The Warlockes st.i.tched into them. Who were The Warlockes? I wondered.

The leader of their pack stepped from his motorcycle. I could see "I-Gatti" stenciled on it. It was a bike Ballard had worked on. A lot of the bikes were like that.

Paolo lifted his visor.

"Sorry, Bal, can't let you pa.s.s," he said. "You or your girlfriend."

"What the h.e.l.l is this?" said Ballard.

"New rules, kid, for a new regime."

Ballard walked past him. "I see other Riders, but they don't show me their faces. Who put you up to this?" he said. "Wait, let me guess, Paolo. The War-Lockes? Locke did."

He drew his finger across a pink Rider's jacket who could only have been Liesel. She fidgeted, nervously. "I see how it is, now," he said.

"It's not just Locke, Ballad, the Council said, as well," said Paolo.

"Yeah, but Locke is the Council," said Ballard, coming back to him. "You know I want a trial, right? I am still Head Wolf, Paolo."

"Don't push it, Bal."

But Ballard, getting on his motorcycle, did push it.

"A trial, Paolo. It's the only way."

Liesel wasn't the only Rider I recognized. Blunt's and Giorgio's square frames were unmistakable... as was Lysander's. Who else was here?

"Ballard, what is it? What are they doing?" I asked.

"They want to exile us, Halsey."

So not only did I have a House to find. Now, I might not be able to. We pa.s.sed through them without a further glance. Why, I thought, was Locke stirring things up? Ballard waved good-bye and I sped off for Via dei Condotti, to my landlady.

BANG!.

Vittoria was still in her room. I thought about asking her what she was up to, but decided against it.

There was a flop at my door. This was something that had been happening ever since I took out those newspaper subscriptions. If something was happening, I'd know about it in a heartbeat. Same old, same old, I thought, flipping through thembut wait...

There was an article by Emma Skarborough, in La Repubblica, on stray Roman tabbies in Largo Argentinawhich was a place near here: "Calicoes, gingers, smoky graysRoman grimalkins have always had their place in Romeand their supportersuntil now," she wrote.

I read the rest of it. From the way it sounded... but, no... You're dreaming, Halsey. She would never do that... But would she?

I booted up my laptop and checked my e-mail. I felt guilty not having checked it in so long.

Nothing.

Nothing from n.o.bodyniente...

The IX website was still going strong. Stars and symbols falling from the header. Nothing had changed. It was still counting down, still bothering me.

I thought about the Riders, wondering what their reactions might be if the Grigori attacked and Ballard and I weren't in Rome to help defend it. Boy, will they be sorry when we're gone, I thought. No more Chosen One. If I am. If House Rookmaaker was within the city limits, and I was exiled, could I still go there? I decided to ask Ballard.

On the way, however, two members of the vigili urbani tried stopping me. Rome was in full crackdown mode against us. How had the Riders managed? I swerved out of their way and fingered the accelerator.

The shop was empty. Being on the outs with I Gatti didn't seem to have bothered Ballard. In fact, he was working on his own pet project. A logo for his new motorcycle company.

"What d'you think?" he said, showing me the insignia he'd created in his notepad.

"I figure every time I sell a custom jobby I'll slap one of those on the side of it," he said. "Maybe create a new army. The Ballards." He smiled at me, happily. "If you want," he said, "I'll make you one for your House. It'll have to be eclectic, though, or represent them."

"I think right now I'm homeless," I said.

"Still no luck finding it, huh?"

I shook my head, no... not that I'd tried finding House Rookmaaker yet. Still, what would the insignia for it look like?

Rooks are birdstoo close to Ravenseal, I thought.

Ballard took the sketchpad back.

Maybe, I thought, I wasn't supposed to find House Rookmaaker? In which case, was I going against my parents' wishes? They stuck me down the rota, after all. It was on their orders Selwyn shipped me off to St. Martley's. Or someone did. Maybe they had no intention for me to come back to Rome. But Risky had....

I looked at him, up there, smiling. Why had he intended Ballard and I to meet?

"You know," said Ballard, sketching a picture, "a place that big would have to be noticeable. Your House, I mean. You couldn't just put it anywhere."