Neophyte / Adept (17 page)

“House Pendderwenn, of which your parents
were
a part–– I was a kid,
but I have seen the Family Trees–– hived, originally, from us, from
House Ravenseal. Here’s the rub––and it was something Maria Lenoir
didn’t intend...

“Only a fledged Wiccan member of any coven may form an
autonomous House,” said Lux. That means it is independent in every way from its
parent coven. Julius Pendderwenn is not fledged, nor will he ever be, I don’t
think. Even if something should happen to him, it is
Ravenseal’s
decision on who should replace him. Houses don’t let
other Houses Hive from them, Halsey. Not really.”

I nodded. Now that I thought about it, I didn’t want to be
beholden to some parent coven––some Ravenseal, or something like
that. It was like the magic books. They should be free to develop
independently, as should the Wiccans who read them, shouldn’t they? Yet, if I
joined a House like Pendderwenn...

“...I mean to say,” I said. “I would be a slave,” I told
Lux.

Now that I thought about it, St. Martley’s was an
independent coven. They had never hived from anyone.... That I knew about....

“It’s for protection,” said Lux. “If a war were to break
out, the Houses would contract, the parent covens dragging back their
satellites, anywhere in the world. Ravenseal’s numbers would swell, become greater
than twelve, along with its power. Not to mention the Harcorts and the Covens.
And that is what the vampires are afraid of. That we will be too powerful for
them to control, if and when a second war ever starts.

“Erasmus must’ve really outsmarted Maria Lenoir that day,”
he continued almost to himself. “She must’ve thought that would’ve been an end
to it––with Hiving. She figured eventually Houses would emancipate
themselves, one from the other. But that hasn’t happened. Which is why junior
covens are carefully monitored and fledged Wiccans not allowed to head them up.
That’s third-degree Wiccans, by the way. Some say there’s a fourth degree.”

I drank my mint julep feeling like my head would explode.

* * *

It was nearing Midnight. And as the chimes rang, the party
was ended––I had not really met anyone. So many Supernaturals had
attended this Ball. Yet, I felt, we were no closer to any kind of magical
understanding. The room was emptying. I looked up into the stands, where
couples were being shooed out of their niches. It was time for the goodnight.

Lux and I had spent the evening whispering together. I felt
honored to be in his presence. So I knew, for instance, that he was
twenty-eight-years-old. I asked him about it. And also, how long Wiccans could
be expected to live. A part of me was thinking about Lennox––and
then a nebulous guilt would surface until I remembered Lia’s
words––
one night only
...

Lennox and I had forever. Or at least
a
forever. Lux explained:

“We do not ordinarily outlive our counterparts, unless we
have something left to do, some unfinished business.... Wizards, I mean...”

By counterparts he meant humans––non-magic human
beings. Even with magic, people still fought wars. It made me sad.

Lia and Gaven came over––and were just about to engage
us in conversation––when several things happened simultaneously.

Lux grabbed his Wiccan Mark and grimaced––the
doors flew open and several people I recognized as members of Gaven’s pack
raced in––and my head, my head went funny––

Shapes and sounds assaulted me––and a voice...

Ballard yelled and my eyes flew open. He was being held back
by Locke and some of the other werewolves. Paolo stopped dancing with Vittoria
to come over and rescue him. Suddenly, I was in a furstand.

Gaven and the werewolves were all six-nine. So I didn’t see
what had gotten Ballard’s goat, or his werewolf or whatever. But Lux was really
hurting. “I’m okay. I’m okay,” he said to me, panting and out of breath. He
stopped me when I tried to help him. “But I have to go,” he said.

I tried to go with him but I was stuck in tall
bodies––shunted to the side––with Lia. Lux bade me
goodnight and left.

Gaven was surrounded by werewolves.

“But they’re okay?” he said. “No... I want no retaliation.
Step up the protection detail. In fact, I want the Riders assembled. Tell the
Team Leaders I wish to speak with them immediately. It can’t be helped.”

Lia whispered to me.

“Volt and Pouch were just attacked,” she said. “They’re
being taken to my house.”

“Volt and Pouch? You mean those two fourteen-year-old boys?
Attacked by whom?” I said. “Are they okay?”

“Good question. We can’t stay here.
Gaven’s orders.
He wants us back in our dormitories. Come on,” said
Lia.

I followed after her. Ballard was nowhere to be seen.
Apparently, Rome wasn’t big enough for all of us––all the
Supernaturals––even for one night. “My idiot brother. Can’t even
control himself,” said Lia. It was a while before I spoke with her again.

Chapter 17
– Wizard Donuts

Lia’s snores filled the dormitory. The usual sounds were
gone from the werewolf side of things. I realized half of them must be out and
about.

On Gaven’s orders. What had he said? That they were to ride
around all night. But that couldn’t mean... There weren’t vampires making a
problem in the city, were there? I couldn’t sleep. Despite Lia’s warnings or
perhaps because of them my mind and body were both wide awake.

“Dear Diary,”
I
wrote, but gave it up as a bad job. I was restless. My legs were itchy. I
decided to go for a walk. The clock in our room said
three-thirty––so I hadn’t been asleep that long. Dreams at the
Gathering were non-existent. Instead I was having waking dreams––
visions
... of–– But
no
, it was impossible, I shook such
inane notions out of my head; and because they were so warm, slipped on my
Initiate’s robes. I put my hood up. Now if I was interrupted, people would
think it was just some strange specter––like Maria
herself––not a narcoleptic Neophyte who walks in her dreams.

Despite what anyone said, I didn’t trust Maria. She gave off
this vibe, like death. Maybe she was the one whispering in my head. I had to
keep that to myself. I couldn’t let it out that I was––that I might
be––

If people thought I was, they wouldn’t want to be around me
anymore, would they?

No, they would not.

Pretty soon I found myself standing in one of the hallways
that led to the Star Room––I didn’t know what had made me go there,
but I had.

It had been put back to rights, the Star Room, like nothing
had ever happened––the holly and unused mistletoe and all of it had
all been magicked into non-existence. Such efficiency scared the hell out of
me. I thought a party should be messy afterwards. Everyone drunk on
sleeplessness and whatnot. It turned out someone else had come for messy
mis-remembrances. Gaven himself. He stood there by the obelisk, running his
fingers along it––looking at all of the figures. I startled him
when he heard my footsteps––apparently I was less disembodied than
I thought. He turned suddenly; it looked like he was angry. His violence faded
as fast as it had flared, however. “Halsey!” he said. “You shouldn’t be here.”

When I asked him why not, he said, “For lots of reasons.”
But then he smiled at me and went back to petting his sculpture. Gaven wore his
biker jacket over his tux.

For a tricenarian, he was very hot.

Tricenarian. Gaven was
losing his power...

“Ballard tells me you’ve been having funny dreams,” he said.

He stood up and looked at me; I nodded.

“It isn’t that he
can’t
keep confidences. Ballard is a werewolf,” said Gaven. “He is in my pack. He has
an obligation to inform me if anyone is experiencing
the Calling
.

“Is that what this is? I have––funny dreams,” I
said. “I hear––voices almost.” Immediately I had betrayed myself
after swearing I would not tell anyone that I was crazy.

Gaven stuck his thumb back at the obelisk. “I have just been
talking to Asher about this obelisk. Funny guy, Asher. But trustworthy, you
know? Has things to say. Apparently this meeting place rests on my ancestors.
This obelisk is their tomb. Their headstone, in point of fact.”

He didn’t expect a response––which was good,
because I had none to give. It was so late at night that any ordinary
formalities ceased to exist.

Maybe Gaven was used to being by himself. Leaders were like
that. Because he went back to staring at the obelisk, and forgot about me. But
of course he spoke again.

“I didn’t know what I was at first,” he said. “I was just
some teenage hormonal biker chasing girls––not that I’m not that
guy still––at heart. But then
it
started happening. I would lose time. I would cease to be me, and I would be
the Wolf, instead. It is an amazing and terrifying experience. This ferocious
joy would overwhelm me. Then––
alone
––I
would run to meet the night.”

He turned and smiled at me. I could see for a moment what he
was talking about. It was like something had hold of Gaven. Some force larger
than he was.

Mind you. Gaven was big.

“This was bigger,” he said.
“Better
than anything I had ever known. But when I went to share it
with other people I realized I was all alone. That is what it is to be the
Alpha. Even when Lia turned, I could not share everything––what all
of this meant to me––even with her. I have been a werewolf now for
ten years. And I can feel it slipping away from me....

“So much for my little bildungsroman. The Calling, Halsey,
is the werewolf coming of age. For seven years those whom it selects are
forced
to serve. Old men forget or they
never knew. This party tonight is an example of that. Things are not as they
seem. They are not as others would choose to believe. The Dioscuri have seen to
that....

“I think I may know
what is hunting you,”
he said to me.

I didn’t know why, but I told him––there and
then––what I thought it was.

“Some kind of animal, Gaven. I dream about it every night.
And Ballard. Ballard is part of it. Ballard...”

“Ballard,” said Gaven, “is special.”

“He’s protecting me,” I said.

Gaven fell silent again.

It was a while before he spoke.

“Promise me,” he said, “that if you should ever take leave
of Rome––no, listen to me. Promise me that you will
take Ballard with you
. I think he is
meant for more than this. He’s worth ten times as much as me. I just hope we
are not too late. He will need your guidance before the end. Well, my end. For
you and Ballard, this truly is beginning.

“You are like the Wolf, Halsey Rookmaaker. The Wolf that I
was. I look for him, now and then, but he is gone. Ballard will explain to you.
I will let him in on the secrets of our Pack. Risky would have wanted it. He
was the greatest werewolf who ever lived, Risky. But he had his time. Watch out
for Ballard. He doesn’t say it, but he will need your help. Come with me. I
will take you back.”

* * *

The next morning was a buzz of dullness, until over breakfast
Ballard explained to me what had happened. He had been riding around all night.

“I’m famished,” he said. He dug into his
pajata
, which was calf intestines,
calling it the
quinto quarto
,
whatever that meant. Plus he ate oxtail stew. I watched him, slightly sick to
my stomach. Maybe it was all the mint juleps the night before. Or maybe there
was something different about Ballard. I couldn’t put my finger on it. It was
like he had changed. Like the old Ballard was gone.

Lia made a point of ignoring him. But I knew Ballard. He
would just think she was being jealous. After all, as a Wiccan, Lia had been
shunned, in a way, from the Pack––and this after being its co-Head,
the alpha female. To top it all off, she had still not figured out what was going
on with her shifting––if she could anymore, or if it was gone
forever.

Now was Ballard’s turn to exhibit.

“That blood-lipped vein drain is gone, I take it. Last
night,” he said, “with Liesel. Guy comes up to me. Tries to start a fight.”

“He wasn’t starting a fight, you idiot. He asked Liesel for
a dance.” Lia couldn’t control it any longer. “But no. You have to go and cause
a scene. Mom and dad...”

“If you mention my mother and father again,
I’ll––”

“What?
You’re
becoming a real problem child, you know that, Ballard? Come on,” she said to
me, “we’re going to be late...”

I hurried after her. Ballard went back to his food, with an
angry look on his face.

“What was that all about?” I asked.

Lia slowed down once we were out of Meadpalace.

“He just doesn’t think. I swear––I thought he
was going to shift, right there, when he shoved that vampire. We’re supposed to
be getting along with these... people. If Ballard’s not careful, he’ll end up
starting a war.”

We turned a corner, and went down the tunnel to the Star
Room. I liked it better when it was decked with witchhazel and all of the other
flowers. Now it was cold and stone. And Lux was, too, when he finally got
there. Maybe he was still hurting from the night before.

We had never had that awkward moment, Lux and
I––of whether it was a date or not––or what was the
protocol, and so forth, for ending the evening.

There was that guilt again.

An image of me, locked in Lux’s arms––Lennox,
scrutinizing us from a doorway.

“Vampires... What kills them... What they can do... And what
we can do to counteract some of their nastier aspects. That will be the lesson
for this morning,” he said.

He stood around waiting for someone to speak.

“Anyone?” said Lux. “Come on. Don’t be shy. Yes, you there.
Shaharizan, is it not?”

“Yes sir... I was just thinking... well...”

“I see. You feel that we should be
friends
with vampires. Is that it? You see them here and you think
that this is their normal behavior. By all means, let us here from
you
next.”

Another Neophyte had raised her hand. Badgley, I think.

“It’s just, it’s a little––and I mean no
disrespect––but it is a little––
two-faced
, don’t you think? I mean, here we are
trying
to make friends. And then the
next second we’re learning how to kill each other. It’s just rude, is all.”

“Isn’t it?” said Lux.

I got that swashbuckling sense from him again, even though
he was a little hungover, or whatever, with the pain from his Wiccan scar.
Maybe it had interfered with his niceness, because he was being more direct
with us than he had ever been before, less inclined to coddle––I
almost wrote cuddle––us.

“Wiccans make war. So do vampires,” he said. “We
like
to kill each other.”

“But––”

“This is not an ivory tower, it is a sandpit.”

Badgley stopped talking.

“Rude perhaps. But I think you’ll be glad of the training
you received from someone like me if a vampire ever tries to attack you.”

Was that a possibility?

As I felt to my neck, I knew that it was

“Besides, this is an intellectual discussion,” said Lux.
“You will not need your
callouses
.”

The wit of that. Like we would have to build up our
resistance to sentimentality. I looked at my Mark, wishing it would appear.

It went from the most contentious to the funnest lesson we
had ever had, and the most informative. We learned about sires, brood sizes,
and certain telepathic powers they possessed (“They feel a connection with
their brood master,” said Lux), something Lennox had never explained to me
amply, and also about what
kills
vampires.

This was the part I shied away from. The other Neophytes and
I looked at each other––except for Vittoria, who said, “I just
wonder what kills those big hairy balloon animals?”

She pantomimed making a werewolf out of a balloon.
Apparently her date with Paolo hadn’t gone that well.

Lia overheard this but didn’t say anything. She may have
been mad at the werewolves herself. From what I had seen, they had started
treating her shabbily. I was going to have to have a long talk with Ballard
about that.

Lux signaled for the end of the lesson.

“One last chestnut,” he said, “–– yes, Lia?” Lux
looked surprised. Lia hardly ever raised her hand.

“I don’t know about you guys,” she said, addressing the
other Initiates, “but I could do with a ladies’ night out. What d’you say to
getting out of here for a while?”

The other Neophytes and I looked at each other.

“Seven o’clock?” she said.

We nodded. It was agreed upon.

“Tomorrow is a big day,” said Lux, drawing us back
temporarily. “We have a guest speaker. Try not to be late.”

“We won’t be long,” said Lia.

Lia and the rest of us shuffled out of the room, with Lux
disappearing to wherever he went. Vittoria was looking at Lia like some kind of
boundary had been crossed, but let it go. The other Neophytes and I whispered
excitedly together. We agreed to meet at seven o’clock at the tunnel the
Wiccans took to get in and out of the Gathering. There was a big van, or
something––and some other cars there, that we could take. My
inner-Gambalunga snorted some.

* * *

November visited the Roman countryside that afternoon with
thunderclouds and a fierce torrent of rain water, so I spent the time writing
in my diary, waiting until nightfall, when the storm subsided somewhat, and
everything cleared up.

We had a little surprise waiting for us when we got there.
Two
little surprises.

The first was that Vittoria wasn’t coming.

Cool with me
, I
thought.

“It was almost like she didn’t
want
to come,” said one Initiate in a hushed voice.

Lia smiled at this.

“Vittoria was all buddy-buddy with Veruschka Ravenseal at
the party,” she whispered to me. “Two guesses who they’re picking.”

It sounded like Ravenseal had their new Initiate.
Vittoria Ravenseal.

When I thought about it, it made me sick. I didn’t tell Lia
that Ravenseal had only one opening. It didn’t seem to matter anymore. “I’m not
joining any House she’s a part of,” I said.

The next surprise was that Ballard’s ape van was waiting for
us, a curious little vehicle that rode on three wheels. There was a single
driver’s seat and a little homemade chair behind it. The other Initiates would
have to make do in some of the other vehicles I saw lined up at the Gathering.

It was obvious that the majority of them had driven here. I
didn’t know what I had expected, broomsticks and magic carpets. But we piled
into as few automobiles as possible. It was Lia and I in the ape van. The rest
would have to follow.