Moonset (11 page)

“So she’s had you spying on me?” Jenna spat.

“I’m not
spying
on you, you idiot!” How was it that Jenna could take a perfectly simple math problem like 2+2 and wind up with an answer equalling the square root of paranoid?

“Why you?” she continued, expression darkening in a way it only ever did when she fought with Mal. “I can’t believe you’d do this to me.”

“It’s not about you!”I’d almost forgotten my voice could
get
that loud. Red hazed in at the edges of my vision, and all the anger I’d bottled up over the year—whole shelves full of bottles—started to spill out. Too much had already happened today. “It’s about all of us, and what’s going to happen to
us
if you keep doing what you’re doing. So maybe stop being so damned self-absorbed for five minutes and
think
for once!”

Jenna took a step back like she’d been slapped. “Who do you think you are?” she asked. I wasn’t sure if the hurt look and tone were real, or a show for Illana. “No one elected you the boss of us all.”

“Someone has to be, Jenna. Didn’t you hear what I said? They want to ship us off to the middle of nowhere!”

“You should have told me. You should have told
all of us.
”

“All right, enough,” Illana said, hand pressed against her temple. “No one’s going to the Priory today. We realize that what happened in Kentucky wasn’t your fault.”

“Do you? Maybe you should have gotten here five minutes earlier, because Meghan never got that memo,” Jenna said. She stalked to the far side of the kitchen, putting as much room between the two of us as she could.

“There are different factions in the Congress,” Illana said carefully as Quinn walked back into the room, “and they rarely agree on what to order for lunch, let alone something as critical as a wraith attack.”

“So you believe in us and want to help protect us and everything is wonderful?” Jenna rolled her eyes. “I’ve heard all this before. Just because you’re famous for Diana and the others doesn’t impress me.”

“My world shall never recover,” Illana replied blithely, as if Jenna’s moods were something she dealt with every day.

I cleared my throat. “So if you’re not here to ship us off to juvenile detention, then why are you here?”

“I thought it was time we all met.” Illana took a seat at the table, carefully arranging the skirt of her dress.

The tightness in my chest was still unraveling, but Jenna looked unaffected. Stay, go, it made no difference to her. “What’s really going on here? And why are
you
here?” The leader of one of the Great Covens didn’t just pop in for a social call.

“Curiosity. Concern. Take your pick.”

I turned to Quinn. “She was the one on the phone, wasn’t she?”

Illana laughed, responding before Quinn could. “Of course. I expect my grandchildren to check in with me regularly.”

That bomb took awhile to clear. I kept looking between the two of them, Quinn and Illana, trying to find some similarity. Jenna just shook her head and smirked. Whatever she was thinking, it wasn’t good. She was probably already plotting her next expulsion-worthy event. It made me wonder, could you get expelled even before you were enrolled?

“Really?” Quinn asked. “Did you come here just to keep poking them with sticks? Because irritating or not, Meghan had that covered before you arrived.”

“She’s your grandmother. Illana Bryer. You’re
related
to her.” I was trying to put it into reference. If Quinn was her grandson, then that meant he was almost as infamous as the rest of us. Illana Bryer, the head of Fallingbrook, had married Robert Cooper, the head of Eventide, joining their two families twenty years ago. It was like the Kennedys marrying into the Vanderbilts.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I wanted to see them for myself. Remind the younger Daggett that I meant what I said, all those months ago.”

“And to terrorize them,” Quinn supplied.

Illana didn’t dignify that with a response. But the corner of her mouth definitely moved.

She was the only one who was amused though. Jenna crossed her arms in front of her. “I asked you a question. Either of you ready to stop lying and tell us what we’re doing here?”

The adults shared a look. The
family.
It was weird to think of Quinn being related to her. Was that why he was here? Not just to keep an eye on us, but to watch us for
her
?

“One of the more recent developments,” Illana began, “has suggested that we need to pay more attention to the lives you children are living.”

“ ‘We’ meaning the Congress, right?” Jenna questioned. “Have they decided to stop being cowards and start teaching us something useful?”

“Jenna!” There was a time and a place for airing your grievances, but in front of the world’s deadliest grandma wasn’t it.

Illana, however, didn’t look particularly offended, except by the decor in the kitchen. She turned up her nose at some of the “family”-themed wall hangings that had been put up before we arrived. “Quinn told me you’ve been … unhappy.”

“I was
unhappy
getting stuck in the middle of nowhere.” Jenna’s words were sharp, and her expression as dark as I’d ever seen it. “I’m
pissed
that we almost died, no thanks to any of you.”

Quinn cleared his throat.

“Not you, Quinn,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You’re perfection.”

His chest puffed out and he smirked a little. Clearly he was ignoring the sarcastic drip of Jenna’s words.

“When you can prove that you deserve to learn more, I’ll happily teach you myself,” Illana said. It was clear she thought that day would never come. None of us were under any illusions about that.

“So you’ll risk our lives in the meantime? Just to prove some stupid point about responsibility?” Jenna demanded. “You’re insane.”

“So you’ll risk their lives just to prove you don’t care to
be
responsible?” Illana fired back.

“So what does that mean?” I interrupted, hoping to stave off the Jenna rant that would eliminate any hope of good will on Illana’s part. “You said something about paying more attention to us?”

“It means exactly what I said. We need to pay more attention. So we will. I’ll be staying on in Carrow Mill, as will a few others.”

“You’re leaving D.C.?” Quinn asked, clearly surprised by this news. So maybe the family didn’t tell each other
everything.

“Oh, great. More babysitters,” Jenna snapped.

“Just hear her out,” I tried.

“Are you kidding me, Justin? She’s one of
them.
We can’t trust her. We can’t trust either of them.” She brushed the hair out of her eyes, regarding me with something like genuine emotion. “You used to know whose side you were on.”

“I’m on the same side I’ve always been on,” I said.

“Yeah,” she said, dropping her eyes from mine. “I’m just starting to realize it’s not mine.” She stormed out of the room.

Illana waited, then rose to her feet. “Justin will see me out. Quinn, start looking into those theories for me. I want to know how many other surprises have been buried in the soil here.”

Buried in the soil? What? I looked at Quinn, who breezed past me. “He’s been a mechanic here for thirty years; it’s not like he ever went into hiding. The only reason we know anything is because he approached Justin and Mal.”

“I don’t care if he’s selling used cars on the side of the road,” Illana said harshly. “Someone didn’t do their homework. Especially during a time like this—that’s inexcusable.”

Illana headed for the door, and I followed in her wake. She must be used to it, I figured. People scurrying after her, letting her set the current and forcing their direction. Jenna had been right about that much, at least. Illana was here for a reason, and it wasn’t what she was telling us. It wasn’t anything like what they were telling us.

“We’re still in danger, aren’t we?”

Illana didn’t pause. The door opened, then the screen door, and she stepped through into the afternoon sun. “There’s always danger. But danger and opportunity are fast friends. So take your opportunity, and show me who you’re going to be. A child of Moonset, or a child of the Congress.”

Eleven

“Sutter and Denton, seniors, first brought the incidents to the school’s attention. Initial speculation was confirmed after a Coven was dispatched to Carrow Mill. Someone was altering the junior class: they had been made docile; their passions extinguished. At the time, no one wondered why Moonset had been immune … ”

Council Investigation Report
Eyes Only

When I came back into the kitchen, Quinn was waiting for me. I bypassed him, went to the fridge, and grabbed a bottle of water. Why were the adults so hell bent on keeping us in the dark? They weren’t making it any secret that something else was going on in Carrow Mill, but they refused to tell us
what.

“You should go check on her,” Quinn suggested, glancing towards the ceiling.

“Are you new?” He must be. Either new, or crazy. I grabbed my coat out of the front hallway closet. “I’m keeping my distance until she calms down. I’ll be over at Mal’s.”

“School tomorrow,” he said, almost sounding like a parent.

“You’ve met Mal, right? He loves a curfew almost as much as he loves school,” I called, already halfway out the door.

We hadn’t talked much about school. Or at all. The fact that it was tomorrow, and I’d forgotten, only proved how off kilter things were here. The weirdness of Carrow Mill trumped any attempt at normalcy. Sure, we’d done the normal kinds of school shopping—buying supplies, backpacks, the usual, but it hadn’t been any sort of priority.

Until now.

“Did you know school starts tomorrow?” I asked Mal as I walked into his room.

He didn’t even really need to answer. His bag was already packed and sitting next to his computer desk. “Is that a trick question?” he asked, looking up from whatever he was doing.

“You could have at least reminded me.”

Mal arched an eyebrow at me and closed the laptop. “Are we really going to talk about school right now? What’d she want?”

I shrugged. “We’re not ‘supervised’ enough. Supposedly, that’s why she’s moving to town.”

“She’s moving here? Can she even do that?”

“Is anyone really stupid enough to tell her she can’t? I have the feeling that the sun doesn’t even rise unless she wants it to.”

Mal crossed the room and closed the door. “I don’t think Nick’s home, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful,” he admitted. “I’ve been trying to look up that thing from the other day. The symbol?”

I perked up at that. “Any luck?”

“Not yet,” he said. “But I know I’ve seen it somewhere before.”

“While we’re talking about it, what was that crap with Ash?” Mal looked confused, so I continued. “Interrogating her about the fire? Having her ask her dad? Aren’t you the one always preaching that we should blend in? That we shouldn’t call attention to ourselves?”

He snorted. “You’re just mad I wouldn’t leave you alone with your little girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Maybe I’m not the one that needs to remember that,” he said, suddenly serious. “I get that you like this girl and all, but you need to remember the situation we’re in. Odds are we won’t be here come prom night.”

“I’m not Bailey,” I snapped. “I know what I’m getting myself into.”

“Do you?” he asked. “You should have seen your face after the mall the other day. And then at the coffee shop? You’re all blissed out on this girl.”

Where the hell was this coming from? Mal was the one who always had my back, and suddenly he was acting like a dick? “Are you jealous? What the hell, man?”

“Right, because I’d have to be jealous to think it’s a bad idea,” he snorted. “Get over yourself.”

“Then what is this? She’s just a girl.”

Mal laughed to himself. He crossed over to his closet, and began flipping through the clothes on hangers. Looking for something. Like our conversation wasn’t that important.

Something crashed downstairs.

In the aftermath, there was an audible silence. Both of us waited, listening, but there was nothing. “I thought you said Nick wasn’t home?” I whispered.

“I didn’t think he was.”

One of the doors downstairs creaked, a faint sound that we wouldn’t have heard if we hadn’t been straining for it. “It’s probably him, right?” I said.

“Of course.”

But neither one of us called out to check. Together, we crept out of the room and down the stairs. In hindsight, probably not the smartest move. It could have been another wraith. Or something else sent after us. Aside from the faint sound of our feet against the carpet, and hesitant groans in response to careful steps, the house was totally quiet.

As we reached the bottom landing, I tapped Mal on the shoulders and pointed down the hall. Lights were on in the study, the door closed. But when I’d come into the house just a few minutes before, the door had been open and the room dark.

“Can you tell who it is?” Mal asked, glancing between the study to his right, and the path to the front door, to his left.

“You know all the same spells I do,” I said, trying to figure out if
anything
I knew would be useful here.
Etheric maanu
would tell me how many people were in the house. That wouldn’t help.
Ethera maan
could tell how far away they were. But nothing I could use to identify them.

“Yeah, but I don’t pay attention in class,” Mal responded, sounding aggravated. It probably annoyed him that he even had to ask. Magic was always his last resort. “If it was a wraith, it would have just blown up the house, right? Picked us up out of the debris?”

“Maybe,” I hedged.

He squared his shoulders and chose his direction. The study, then. I followed behind, grabbing the only thing handy that I could find. In a perfect world it would have been a baseball bat or a golf club. I had to settle for one of those blue-fringed Swiffer dusters.

I hefted the weight of it in my hands, already regretting the decision. Mal looked over his shoulder at me, smirked, and then pushed open the doors to the study.

The two of us went rushing into the room, me with feathered blue justice in my hands. Mal didn’t need a weapon of his own—he pretty much
was
the weapon.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Mal snapped.

I had to step around him to realize who he was talking to. Jenna, half crouched behind the study’s desk, stacks of files and papers cleared out of the drawers and scattered across the top. She dropped a hand to her hip, rose even as her eyebrow arched at the Swiffer in my hands like a weapon. “What are you planning to do? Dust me to death?”

“What are you doing here, Jenna?” he repeated.

“Breaking and entering, completely ruining Nick’s attempts at organization, and general crimes against the crown, obviously,” she said blandly. “So either close the door and help, Dumb and Dumber, or go back to talking first downs and engines. Or whatever you boys talk about.”

“You can’t just go through all his stuff,” I said in shock.

“Well, I’d go through Quinn’s stuff, but they’re both over there right now,” she said reasonably. “It’s harder to snoop through someone’s things when they’re in the room.”

Mal sighed, then turned around and closed the door behind us. It was as good as giving Jenna permission to continue. The moment the lock clicked into place, she went back to skimming through the files. “So you decided to break into my house? Why?”

“I’m done letting them make me a victim,” she said, moving from one drawer to the one below it. “They won’t teach us new spells? Then I’ll find them on my own. I’ll teach myself if that’s what it takes. But what happened back there will
never
happen again.”

“You’re looking for grimoires?” I don’t know what surprised me more. That Jenna would steal another witch’s book of spells, or that she hadn’t already done it before.

Grimoires, or spellbooks, were basically journals that most witches kept all of their magic in. Because there were so many spells, and so many variations, most people needed a written record. It was difficult work—because magic was a language, written spells had power just as much as spoken ones. Spells had to be broken down into the lines, spaced apart like diagrams on how to copy a Chinese symbol.

Mal shook his head. “You can’t do this.”

“I knew
you
weren’t going to help,” she replied scornfully. “Come on, Justin, you know I’m right. We need to be able to protect ourselves. You’re the one who keeps saying that they brought us here for a reason. If we’re in danger, can we really trust them to make sure Bailey and Cole are safe? Or what about Mal? He refuses to defend himself.”

“I don’t need to use magic to defend myself,” Mal snapped. “And quit trying to spin this into a good idea. It’s pretty much one of the stupidest you’ve ever come up with. Going through the Witchers’ things? Illana Bryer hasn’t even
unpacked
yet, and you’re already trying to get us in trouble.”

“And what are you doing? Sneaking around looking at weird fires and making the locals think you’re a freak?” Jenna’s lips curled dangerously. “You’re stirring up just as much as I am. But if Saint Malcolm wants to solve a mystery and get a treat from his owners, that’s okay.”

I looked over the mess Jenna had made, and the pair of them bickering with each other. “Put it all back, Jenna.”

“You can’t seriously be siding with him,” she snapped. “You know I’m right.”

I tapped out a rhythm like a heartbeat against the floor. “One minute, or I’m calling Quinn and turning you in.”

She gaped at me. This wasn’t done. It was one thing to side with Jenna, or against her. It was another to side with the adults. Even if Mal disagreed with her, argued that she should have stopped, if we got caught, he’d have her back.

So for her to stare at me like we’d never met before wasn’t entirely unexpected. But she put everything back, if not exactly where she’d found it, then close enough. The tension in the room could have compressed coal into diamonds.

Just before she closed the last drawer, she looked up at me. “I don’t know who you think you are all of a sudden,” she snapped, “but whoever he is, he’s a dick.”