The Wiccan Diaries: Neophyte Adept Part 56

"They joined him in droves. Soon his spies were everywhere. You found them in every House. Lenoir had an army of devotees, willing and able to do his bidding. It was the perfect marriage of the Fledged and the Forgotten. At which point he set about to do what he did....

"Lenoir held the opinion any jurisdiction an organization might have over magical power would denude the limits to which you could take it. The Three should be abolished, and if no one else would do it, he would. What started out as guerrilla warfare, eventually gained a following. Erasmus of Ravensealthe soon-to-be Head of that Houseconvened a secret council, The Fraternity of Secrets, in which all influential witches and wizards willing and able, were summoned to go over what would be done about the upstart, known simply as Lenoir. No one had ever seen his face; if you did, you were dead. He was like a bad rumorhushed up for too longthen, suddenly, released! He was on a crusade for his own glorification. Ideas didn't matter anymore. And his pranks were growing more numerous, and more deadly. Lenoir's genius was he recognized a way to justify the atrocities which were already begun but were soon to rage across the century! He was going to redefine Magic!

"War was coming. Misguided. Abstract," said Manon. "But at the top they knew exactly what it was about: control. Who would have it, and who would not.

"Lenoir was going to wrest magical control from the Families. And he did. That was the purpose of the Last War."

"But how?" I said.

"The answer is The Fifth of Fourth, a rogue faction of magic, which broke from the trine of other Houses. The Dark Order began as The Fifth of Fourth, Halsey. It was Lenoir's House. Quite literally, a fifth, or portion, of the other Houses, creating a new, fourth House. In point of fact, The Master House!

"After his defeat, we refitted it to a new purposefunny how magic and imagination seldom go hand in hand. Covens and the Covens, Lenoir and the Lenoir. The Fifth of Fourth became headquarters for the body responsible for regulating Hiving, The Master House, there in Prague "As for the Watchersor Watchtowers...," said Manon, "they were unparalleled in their skill and craftBronwen, who was the East; Rayven the West; and Marek, who was a vampire, the South.

"YesRayven was one of them," said Manon, misinterpreting the way my gut had clenched.

"As for the North? It was Lenoir. He offered the other Watchers power; only Rayven accepted. It cost him his soul."

"The others were destroyed," said Asher. "Rayven corruptedBronwen murderedand Marek forsaken We don't know what happened to him."

"The line of the Watchers was ended. It's interesting," said Manon, "when he bent Rayven, Lenoir took the mother lode of Rayven's power into himselfrather than share it with his ally. Rayven is powerful but nothing of what he wasfor he had been a Watchtower."

"It took an act of betrayal to destroy them," said Laurinaitis. "It's because of Rayven that shape shifters are now called turncoats. Even the Grigori hate him, and revile his name."

I kept Marek to myself; Manon couldn't possibly be referring to someone else.

If what she told me were true, Lenoir was the necromancer who had tried to kill me. Lennox didn't know! No one did! Marek should have told me! He was one of my Four Protectorsmy protettori. The Lenoir wanted him dead. He was a murderer. But from how it sounded, it didn't sound like Marek could die.

"They guard magic, Halsey. The Watchtowers guard the Chosen One."

Dear Diary, why had Mercaccio Lenoir wanted to destroy Rhea Silva? Was it so that he could take her power?

Something was up. I couldn't explain it, except to say I knew things, things I had to keep secret. This Marek revelation threw me for a loop. I thanked Manon, but uneasily. Just as I carefully extricated my Diary from her grasp. I kept asking myself, Did Lennox know who Marek was? He couldn't possibly. Marek gave no hint.

It was like Marek was hiding from me. He spoke in riddles. It left me uneasy. Like he knew things and wouldn't say.

That was exactly his game! A game of riddles and lies! Yet why did I trust him so much? Lennox may have drunk blood cups but Marek did not. He was a vampire, in fact and in fangs.

I flexed my fingertips. The she-witch is MINE.

Why did Rayven want me so badly? And Marek? Why did he? Was it because I was her? Perhaps they were attracted to the Chosen One.

She and the vampire are headed toward Prague.

Find the other one and kill him.

Do not let IT survive.

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

Selwyn. I needed to find him; he must know something. Even if he doesn't think he does, I can draw it out of him. Was there a way for surfacing repressed memories?

It surfaced, like a question mark. Who was Frobenius Foucart? The person who had signed my mother's and father's Magus Codex. And if I had theirs, whose codex had Vittoria received? Was she being whispered to, even now, in a voice from beyond the grave?

Giant hourgla.s.sfuls of Time ran minutes-for-days, leaving my Adepthood feeling increasingly out of reach. Where was Rayven now and what was he doing? Had he returned to Prague, to his master?

I knew I should feel some kind of fear, when I heard the name Lenoir; but instead, there was only the desire to meet him, if I could.

Unbidden, came the voice of the necromancer who had claimed the life of my parents. A crazy idea had come into my head. If necromancy existed, maybe I could learn it. Would it be possible to speak with Kinsey and Maximilian Rookmaaker? Talk directly with Risky, instead of all this p.u.s.s.yfooting around? Necromancy dealt with communicating with the dead. But then another voice intruded: Don't you think if they could speak to you, they would, Halsey?

Yes, I thought. I needed to speak with Ballard.

Something had happened to him, when it was just the three of us, and Rayven, sensing defeat, had cast his magic spell, to end my life.

It had hit Ballard instead of me and done something to him.

"Flagrante!"

I traced my name in fire, there in the air. The rook was the castle on the chessboard.

Rookmaaker.

Castlemaker.

King-maker.

If something more permanent than a scar had been done to Ballard, I didn't know what I would do.

I had seen him with a scar. In my dreams. And I had also seen him leading an army. Ballard had been standing before a collection of soldiers, getting ready to go into combat, his left side marred by a twisting old wound... like he had been cut...

It was weird. Had I seen him, or was it just one of many visions my imagination had cooked up to pain me with? Did everything I saw come true, or could I change things?

The age-old question, really. Was I to be the master of my own destiny? Or was Rayven? Or the symbols? Or Lenoir? Or Marek? Or any of the people who had an affect on my life? Mistress Genevieve...

The only value in knowing what's to come, is being able to prevent it, when it does.

She and the vampire are going to Prague.

Whatever gifts I had Lenoir had them as well. He could see things before they happened. How else did he know what I was about to do?

I got the sense of sitting across a giant chessboard from a grand master. Lenoir had made his turn. Now, it was mine.

Did he really believe that he could change the future and I could not? That I would somehow just put up with it?

Lenoir may have had this selfsame gift of future-seeing, but the question now was, how to hone it? I fetched out my diary and scribbled a training regiment, and then inked it out, irritated.

I had my Four Protectors. I was going about this all wrong.... The entire Grigori and everyone else could come after me. I had Ballard and Selwyn, Lennox and Marek; I had my House.

I needed to set up my world, to gather to me all of the important people in my life: Lia and Gaven, St. Martley's.

If they would....

We needed our own Gathering.

Dear Diary..., a word-puzzle perhaps, but is she the Super b.i.t.c.h because she can transform into a dog, a female B-I-T-C-H, or is it because she's just really mean and nasty? I shut out my light and went to sleep, snuffling ahead like the grey wolf, for what lay in my path.

So much for a resting place. Prague was close by. I could feel it. Trees were less secure than the solidity of Rome. Stromovka could not compare to the pomerium and the Aurelian Wall.

BallardBallard hurtBallard cutBallard destroyed I put my foot down. The benandanti would let me see himright this minuteor else I brought my pet.i.tion to Asher. He was one of the Celeres; they all were. It was spring and the canopy of trees overhead let in joyful light. Perhaps he could see my wrath.

"I will secure it. Please wait here. You are not waiting," he said.

"I want to go with you," I said.

So that's what we did.

The nurse, a wraith of a womanshe had clawed hands, and a warty nosesaid "He'll live. But barely," referring to Ballard. "You may see him, einhendr."

"Thank you, I guess," I said.

I was allowed in.

I climbed to the topmost domov, where Ballard was being held, and broke through the treetops: and there, in the distance, was Prague. I saw it! But no golden dome sparkled in the afternoon sun.

It looked dark over Prague. I turned my eye away, and saw Ballard, where he lay on his bed. His eyes wide open.

"Some view, huh?" he said.

"Oh Ballard."

"I know it looks bad, but don't worry. I heal all right, in the end."

He was wrapped in gauze like a mummy, but I could see half his face, which was smiling.

"Is there pain? How are you feeling? Can I get you anything?"

"Just Rayven," he said.

That reminded me.

"You should have told me," I said.

"About what?" he demanded.

"About Rayven... and stuff. You knew his name! You know everything."

Ballard huffed. I sat on the end of the bed, where he grimaced.

"One of the perks of the job," he said. "I figured we'd go to Pragueand wellwhatever. Gaven told me about Rayven and the Dark Order. And about me. I have an it, inside of me, a thing, my therian, or something... A Lare..."

"So it isn't Risky?" I said.

"What? Who?"

"Nothingit's justthey made it sound like reincarnationand I thought... Maybe your animal was like the ghost of your forebearsyou knowspirits."

I drew the circle out in midair, thinking, Is there a spell for everything?

Ballard's eyes got big. Had anyone ever told him he was magical before? I figured I would keep that secret, for now, until he was ready to hear it. He'd certainly kept secrets from me before.

"Risky's dead," he said. "Believe me. He's not coming back."

"I'm just glad you're back, Ballard."

It felt like Risky had been watching over me. Maybe the grey wolf was Risky's animal, his sangoma? A Lare.

"Me too," said Ballard. "Don't tell them, but I'm looking forward to getting out of here."

"When can you get out of here?"

I was thinking about Prague.

He leaned forward. Where the bandages ended, his skin was reddish and raw. I had the sense Grigori magicmagic used by the Grigori, their incantations, and so forthwas different from spells such as Wiccans used, or the Sons and Daughters of Romulus, if they still had any left (suddenly, I didn't feel so guilty about that racing stunt). That the words themselves were particular to the individual who uttered them, depending on which coven they were from. Fire could be invoked in many languages.

"Don't tell them," said Ballard, "but I'm getting out of here soon. I want to go with youTo finish our journey!"

"You need to rest, Ballard. Prague can wait!" I said.

The old lady who had been looking out for him, came back; Ballard rolled his eyes. "She's manic," he said.

"Your time is up. He needs rest," she said to me.

"Now you know how I feel about my landlady," I whispered to him.

Ballard looked at her, mutinously.

"Remember," he said to me. For a split second, I thought he had been trying to put a spell on me. "We'll gotogether."

Ballard could stay here, but I couldn't. Time seemed to be doing funny things to my head. For some reason, Rayven had been trying to cut out my animalmy therianas if I had one! Do not let it survive. Otherwise, why had he uttered that particular spell? He had aimed it at me. Why, unless he thought I had a therian. What were the Lares?

Did I have a therian? No matter what Ballard said, I knew the grey wolf was important.