Moonset (27 page)

“They made me do it,” Luca suddenly whispered, losing some of that shine and bravado, and reminding me of the kid I’d met on my first day. The one who wanted nothing more than to lay his head down on his book bag and pretend that none of this was happening. “They made me.”

“People could have died. You invoked Maleficia. You’re no better than them,” Ash said, suddenly harsh. Though I’d put my knife away, she hadn’t. But it didn’t look like she was going to be flinging around magic with hers. More like flinging that knife into his chest. I grabbed her by the shoulder. She tugged against me, but I kept holding on.

“But when they get in your head,” Luca snarled, “you don’t have a choice. Disobedience isn’t an option. They
were in control. They killed that man. Not me.”

“You opened the door, Luca! You can’t possibly think you’re innocent.”

“Ash … maybe now’s not the time,” I muttered. Something was going on in the fire. A normal hearth fire was all sorts of healthy oranges and reds and even a little blue. The fire in the fireplace, though, was changing. The blue gained more prominence, and the hissing of the burning wood started growing louder, sounding more like a acetylene torch.

And it was growing darker, giving off less light.

The blues split into tongues of blue and green, each a sickly, unhealthy kind of shade. The room was suddenly cast into something much like moonlight.

And then the fire spoke.

“Child of Moonset,” the fire crackled.

Ash had already started backing away when the fire began to change. She moved to my side, and then her hand was in mine. There wasn’t anything visible in the flames—not like the inhabitants of the Abyss had faces—but there was that same predatory presence. Like the Devil had personally turned all his attention on just the two of us.

If it came down to a choice, I preferred the preternatural presence outside that made me feel like prey over the monster in the fire pit. Monsters shouldn’t speak.

“I brought them, just as you demanded.” In contrast to us, Luca had actually gotten closer to the fireplace—and the thing inhabiting it.

“Yesssss,” the thing hissed, cracks and pops punctuating its words. The fire grew larger, darker and larger. Each tongue of flame that stretched out seemed to do so with purpose, like hands straining against a cage. One extended out, reaching towards Luca with a caress. He leaned forward, and the fire brushed his skin but didn’t seem to hurt him.

The air was thick with something profane—a presence that was so vast it dwarfed the rest of the room and made the oxygen taste strange and sulfurous. My grip tightened on Ash’s hand, and almost like we were one we both took another step backwards.

“Scion of Daggett.” The fire shifted, sending a veil of sparks up the chute. “Know usssss.”

“No,” I replied.

“So ssseditious. Like your maker.”

“I’m nothing like my father,” I snapped. Ash’s grip tightened.

“Ssstanding there wearing his face,” a second voice—this one more feminine—said, sending up another shower of shimmering sparks. “Human irony.”

“Justin, we need to do something,” Ash whispered.

I nodded, but my focus was on the fire. They’d been summoned into the fire. Maybe there was something to that.

“You brought us here, didn’t you?
You
were the ones who wanted us to come here. Why?” My words were all bravado, but I was hoping the things peering through the fire couldn’t know that.

In the aftermath of the fire’s touch, Luca had grown silent, glassy eyed and drooling. Sleeping, just like the others, only his eyes weren’t closed.

“Yessss. Feel. Let it burn inssside you.”

“They want you angry?” Ash was talking, but it was half to herself. And then, more forcefully, “What do you want with him? With all of them?”

“Moonssset trespassed against us,” the female seethed. “
You
shall be the tithe that balances the scales.”

“You can’t have him!” Ash called out, extending her knife once again. She stepped forward, leaving me behind. She pointed her knife at Luca, but it was more than that. I recognized the quick flicks of her wrist, the way her hand looped around at the sides.

She was drawing something.

The fireplace erupted, just like it would have if someone had thrown a bucket of gasoline on it. Where there had been only a pair of voices before, suddenly there were dozens. Some seared with rage, others with lust, but most were impatient moans. “OURS!!!”

“I don’t think they liked that very much,” I said, edging forward.

“Their blood bindssss us,” came the voice from the flames. This one was different than the others. Dry. Cold-blooded. “Your blood releasesss.”

My blood? “I won’t free you,” I said.

“You will. So it will come to passsss. Hisss blood is not enough.”

I looked down at Luca, saw the cut down his arm. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. The cut was old, crusted and clotted, but it still looked serious. “Was Luca telling the truth? Was Moonset innocent?”

Sparks surged upward, and for a moment they had a face. “Villainsss. Monsterssss.”

I wanted that sinking feeling in my stomach not to exist. I
wouldn’t
feel disappointment. Moonset had made their beds a long time ago. There was no sense trying to change the sheets fifteen years later.

“Ssstriking down one of our own as they did,” the fire hissed. “Who were they to pronounce such a fate upon her?”

“Kore,” a second voice moaned. “Sister mine.”

Ash hesitated, looking at me over her shoulder. “I know that name. But Moonset didn’t kill her,” she said, her voice less certain. “Robert Cooper did.”

The fire voices had seemed to forget us. It shrank a little, now little more than three separate tongues each striving upwards in a different direction.

“So shall she be avenged,” the female said.

“And she shall walk into the world, fettered and forgotten, her blood shall sow seeds of vexation,” recited the dry one.

“Kore,” again moaned the third.

Ash was shaking now. I moved to her, the two of us now standing in a line with the benches. If I reached to my left, I could tuck back a stray lock of Bailey’s hair. Just sleeping. All of them looking so peaceful.

“The female works against ussss.”

Just like that, the fire erupted into motion. It became not just a fire, but also a creature with three fire-born tentacles. One moment we were standing there, the next one of those tentacle arms was flying towards us. “
Aere dis,
” I shouted, using one of the spells from Sherrod’s book, but the wind it called didn’t slow the tentacles down. I did the only thing I could think of: I grabbed Ash and pulled the two of us down.

Quick, but not quick enough.

“Agh!”

I had smacked my shoulder against the side of the church bench, but when I looked up at Ash’s cry, it was to see her hand almost in my face, and the blue-green tentacle wrapped around her wrist. Her athame clattered to the ground, and just as quickly as it had flown our way, the tentacle unwrapped itself and slithered back towards the fire.

I was grabbing her arm a moment later. “Are you okay?”

But a closer inspection revealed only a hint of redness on her skin. No burn.

“Cold,” she whispered through her teeth. “Numb.” One whole side of her face had gone slack, the skin sinking downwards like a stroke victim. “Have to get out of here … ”

I turned back towards the fireplace. “Why do all this? Why? Luca, and everything you put him through. My
family.
WHY?”

“Ripen and rot, Child of Moonset. Touchstone of all those bound to you.” The dry voice whispered, crackled really, like a viper. “Ripen and rot, for this night they have condemned you to us, a plague to send to the Abyss itself. Swear unto usss.”

“To usss.”

“We will bless you, vessels of our essence. Free usss, let usss in, and we will crush those who persssecute you. Our powers are legion. We can teach you to channel the Abyss. To live forever, with usss. In usss. As usss. Swear!”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“They will spill your blood where you ssstand,” the viper hissed. “Swear, and your hour of vengeance will be had. Sssuch power we will bestow upon you.”

I could feel it in the air, the symbol that Ash had been drawing. It hung there, half-finished and pulsing with magic that could quite possibly rip me to shreds. Rip any of us to shreds. I could feel it—this wasn’t just another spell, it was something more. It was almost finished—it was
begging
to be finished.

“Swear!” the viper demanded. The fire began to rage again, the three prongs losing cohesion as the fireplace was consumed in one giant ball of cold fire.

“Swear!” repeated the female.

“Swear,” moaned the other.

The knife was still in my back pocket. My hand slid around the pommel like the blade had been crafted just for me. It was hot against my skin, warmth the fire couldn’t provide.

They asked for it.

“Fuck you,” I snapped, bringing the knife down in a slash that ripped through and completed the symbol that Ash had started.

Aerous.
The symbol glowed so bright that it dimmed the Abyssal fire. It was a familiar symbol, but still one that I had never quite seen before. But I knew what it was, now. Aerous. The primal wind. A spellform. I didn’t have time to wonder how Ash had known a spellform, or how I’d known how to complete it.

A tornado exploded in front of me, throwing me backwards. For a moment, I sailed in the air, my eyes drawn to the sickly blue green of the fireplace. I saw the fire wrap itself around Luca like a cocoon; heard a dozen inhuman shrieks; and felt a whirlpool pulling us down, down, down into the darkness.

Then the roof collapsed.

Twenty-Nine

“When we found them, they had been
lined up in a row of cribs. The twins were
together in one, of course. It was almost a month before we found evidence that Baby Girl
Daggett had a different mother.”

Adele Roman
Moonset Historian Official Witness Statement,
From the raiding of the Moonset compound

I don’t know how any of us made it out of there in one piece. A magical SWAT team had descended upon the farmhouse property. Adults were
everywhere
, searching the grounds, talking in hushed circles. Spotlights blazed on the remains of the farmhouse.

I was awake for a long time before I was actually conscious. For the longest time, I watched Witchers hustling to and fro, and others farther away, combating the weather magic.

“Someone really huffed and puffed all over that house, didn’t they?” a familiar voice drawled from next to me.

Jenna was leaning against a tire. I craned my neck around, realizing that we’d both been propped up against the side of an SUV. “Are you okay?”

Her hair was a mess, and both of us were covered in dirt and grime, but she nodded slowly. “Think so. Last thing I remember is leaving the house with Malcolm.”

“They’ve got Witchers all over the place trying to maintain control,” Jenna said. “I heard them talking earlier. They’re spread thin, trying to cover up what was happening in town, and contain all the shit Luca stirred up.”

“You idiot.” There was suddenly a voice and a presence in front of us, blocking out the light. My stomach tightened, thinking for a moment that the … demons, or whatever they were, had come back.

It was Quinn. “Do you have any idea what could have happened to you tonight? What did you think you were doing?”

“We ran out of Thin Mints?” Jenna asked, assuring me that she really was okay. If she could crack jokes so quickly after a house caved in on her, she was going to be all right. “You wouldn’t believe how hard it was to track down a Girl Scout at this hour.”

“Do you know what’s going on out there? How could you be so stupid?” he demanded, his voice oddly whispered. Like he was afraid someone was going to overhear him. Come to think of it, he was facing us at a strange angle, more like he was looking towards the back of the house than talking to us.

“It was Luca,” I said. “I thought … I thought it was someone else. But he released more of the darkness. I know. It
talked
to me.”

Quinn’s self-possession got the best of him, and he spent the next several moments like a gaping fish in front of us. Mouth opened. Mouth closed. Opened. Closed. “Now you listen to me you little asshole,” he managed to get out, though his voice was strangled. “You don’t remember anything.
Anything.
Any of you.”

I went to argue, to say something, but Jenna caught my eye and shook her head. It became an elaborately silent conversation, with complex thoughts expressed only through our looks.

I have to tell them what happened. They need to know.

She tugged at her hair, trying to create some order out of the chaos.
No they don’t. But you’ll tell me later.

Of course I will. Don’t be stupid.
I scratched at my forehead, my fingernails coming back dark with dried blood. My second attempt was much softer, more uncertain. There wasn’t any wound I could feel, no sensitivity, but nevertheless there was a whole section of my hair that was plastered against my scalp, congealed with that same brownish red.

Is everyone okay?
Jenna’s head didn’t move, but her eyes moved around quickly and anxiously. She didn’t have to say anything. I read the question on her face.

I shrugged. That in itself said everything I knew.

“Ahh, it’s about time they began to awake,” Illana Bryer was suddenly above us. Her outfit was some sort of strange mesh of skintight slacks with a black shawl hanging nearly down to her ankles wrapped around her.

“So helpful of you to keep an eye on the two of them, Quinn,” she continued, staring down at us. I met her eyes only for a moment, enough time to see the calculating coldness in them, before I turned and scooted closer towards Jenna. “But someone will be around shortly to take care of them.”

“Take care of us?” Jenna’s voice was acid. “Considering something attacked us, and my brother looks like someone beat the shit out of him, you’d think a little medical care wouldn’t be out of the question.”

Illana’s lips thinned. “Yes, well that was before the five of you were found cavorting with a known warlock.”

“Who?”

She didn’t seem to like my question. Or maybe she didn’t like the challenge in my voice. “Luca Denton, obviously.”

Jenna, God bless her, started to laugh. The kind of Mean Girl laugh that said she enjoyed other people’s misery just a little too much. “Luca?” She glanced at me, amused deception in her eyes. “This is some kind of joke, right? Or some sort of test?”

“I assure you this is a matter of the utmost gravity,” Illana said.

“I’m sure,” Jenna laughed, throwing her head back a little. “Luca invoked the black arts without screwing it up? He’s Maddy’s little lapdog. If he’d even
had
an original thought in his life—and I seriously doubt that’s the case—then I can’t even picture him doing it right in the first place! He’s a loser.”

“That’s enough, Jenna,” Quinn said.

“You’re awfully silent,” Illana murmured, and I looked up to find her homing in on me with her laser eyes. “No reaction? No protests of innocence?”

“I remember something,” I said, fully ignoring the advice of Quinn, whose posture tensed immediately. Even Jenna was sitting straighter now.

“I thought
you
might,” she said, her emphasis on the “you” sounding much like I was the only one she expected would. Her tone was hungry for it, her expression wolfish. “Tell me.”

“We know about Kore,” I said, my tongue stumbling over the name. “Who really killed her.”

Illana stared at me, her expression cool, her eyes searching mine. I don’t know what she saw there, but after a few moments, her lips parted and her eyes widened.

I watched as the effect of the name took its hold over her. At first, there was shock. Then uncertainty. For the first time, perhaps ever, Illana Bryer dropped her gaze and turned away.

“Where did you … ” she whispered, her voice trailing off. And then, as if she realized that she’d forgotten herself, all of the arrogance and prestige of being Illana Bryer came flowing back into her. “Quinn, with me,” she suddenly snapped. “Evanson and … you with the hair, come here.” Two adults, a man and a woman, were suddenly in front of us as well. “No one is to speak to them,” Illana announced, glancing over her shoulder down on us, and then over to
Quinn. “No one at all, until I send for them. The others are gathering as we speak.”

Once she was gone, Jenna leaned into me. “What was that?” she whispered. “What did you do?”

I shook my head and shrugged. I really didn’t know.

Despite what Illana had dictated, they didn’t keep us in the field for much longer. Jenna and I were bundled up, blankets thrown around us, and taken away by Evanson and … the one with the hair a short while later.

But they didn’t take us home.

The storm had finished passing over us, and already the temperature was starting to rise slightly. The driver seemed to have no trouble on the roads.

Entering the high school in the middle of the night wasn’t my idea of a good time. By this point, I’d long since been picturing my bed, and planning a long, long recovery from everything that had been going on.

We entered from the rear parking lot, walking through one building after another as we headed towards the front of the school.

“I want to know where the rest of my family is,” Jenna demanded of Evanson. “We haven’t seen my brothers or my sister since we woke up outside that …
farmhouse.”
Somehow, she made farmhouse sound like it something reprehensible.

Evanson didn’t say anything, however. Neither did the redhead who walked behind us.

“It’s just like the drivers,” I explained to her.

“They’re not going to talk, no matter how much we try.”
“If Maddy would have taught me that spell to set his boxers on fire, I’m sure he’d say
something
,” she sniped. I thought I caught a glimpse of a smile on Evanson’s face.

As we approached the main building, there was more activity in the halls. Men and women, stationed at every intersection. The closer we got to the front of the school, the more guards we saw. All in all, we probably passed thirty to fifty, and that was just down the main thoroughfare of the school. Every single one of them stopped what they were doing long enough to watch us pass. No one said a word.

Our guards led us towards the main office, a place that was quickly becoming my home away from home. From there they led us back into the conference room where I’d been spending so much time lately. Only this time, there weren’t only one or two people inside. There was a full-on dozen. The long rectangular table was full on three sides, with Illana Bryer in the dead center of one of the long sides. Across from her, the entire side of the table was empty, except for two empty chairs clearly left for us.

“Oh no,” Jenna whispered, as Evanson held the door for the two of us. One look at all the closed, emotionless faces in the room and I think we both knew that this wasn’t just a simple expulsion.

“Thank you, Aaron. That will be all,” Illana said formally. Once we were in the room, Evanson nodded once and closed the door from the outside. I watched him disappear down the hallway through the slats in the blinds.

“That’s Robert Cooper,” Jenna whispered at my side, nodding to a white-haired man who was so sour he looked like he had lemon juice running through his veins.

“This is a troubling night for all of us,” Illana spoke first, but she was speaking to her gathered comrades, not to us. We were the only two in the room under the age of fifty—although with witches you could never really tell. Some could have been close to one hundred. “For the past several months, we’ve all heard the whispers and scandal that has been plaguing this town.”

“Excuse me. But before you convene the lynch mob, the
polite
thing to do would be to introduce yourselves.” It was the standard Jenna response. However, it wasn’t Jenna who was speaking. I was.

Illana Bryer stared at me in shock. Twice in one night, I’d caught her by surprise. But I didn’t stop there. “And before you start with
anything
, the least you could do is inform us how our family is.”

“Absurd!” Robert Cooper glared at us from Illana’s right. “I don’t answer to you,
Moonset.
”

In the corner of the room, where I hadn’t noticed him before, Quinn pushed himself off of the wall. “Grandfather … ”

“And I’ve heard more than enough out of
you
,” the man continued with a brief look to his left, his voice dripping with contempt. “You’re lucky you aren’t seated next to the warlocks.”

Conversation began to spring up between different groups around the table. Two women to my left were murmuring about how it was “so upsetting.” A group of men who looked like they should have been at a sports bar were grunting about “mistake letting them come here.”

Jenna had taken her seat, but I didn’t. For once, I wasn’t going to be the one trying to placate everyone, and make things better. Besides, this wasn’t a fire we were just going to walk away from.

Screw the good twin.

“Excuse me!” My voice rang throughout the room, and all movement stopped. Quinn’s grandfather looked like he’d swallowed his tongue. “Are they okay? Where are they?” I kept my voice loud, and controlled. I thought I caught a glimpse of approval on Quinn’s face, but with him it was so hard to tell.

“Your family is fine, dear boy,” Illana said, her voice smooth and uncompromised. “As is the girl, I can assure you.” She, too, looked less murderous than some of the others around the table, but her tone wasn’t entirely respectful either. “They’ve shown no adverse effects to their … trials this evening.”

“Where are they?”

“Safe,” Illana said.

“They were not deemed a threat,” Robert snapped.

“He has a right to know what’s going on,” Quinn fired back.

There was a moment’s pause before Illana stepped in. “Justin Daggett. Jenna Bellamont. We’ve been gathered tonight after accusations that you have been known associates with a warlock.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I said, feeling fire in my veins. “Jenna wasn’t even involved. She was as much a victim as the others.”

“Nevertheless,” Illana continued, as if I hadn’t said anything of value, “those are the accusations in play.”

“We’re the only ones they’re scared of,” Jenna murmured quietly, looking up at me. “They don’t care about the others.”

Robert Cooper cleared his throat. “And that’s all you need to know. Now then—”

“I am not bait.” I took a deep breath, and looked at the members of the Congress. None of them, save Illana, looked particularly intimidating. “And this is the last time you’ll use any of us like that.” Someone had to stand up. Someone had to put this to an end.

They’d brought us here, hoping we’d draw out their warlock. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, the warlock would take care of the Moonset problem for them. And if not, well, we could both be painted with the same brush. The whispers once again picked up around the table, from smug whispers of “how inappropriate” to more scandalized “of course it was
them
.” Everyone around the table had an opinion, it seemed. That’s when I knew for certain.

The Invisible Congress. Made up of the leaders of the Great Covens and a few token Solitaires. They pulled at our strings and toyed with our lives. I looked down at Jenna, who was looking back up at me like we’d never seen each other before.