Gods of Chaos (Red Magic) (32 page)

I nodded. “Izzy’s been waiting too long. Besides, just because we have some help, would you really let anyone besides you rescue your sister?”

“True. I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it.”

“I figured. You just can’t wait to go rushing into battle with a Red god, can you?” My words were harsh, but I kept my tone light.

He grinned. “Witch, I fear you have found my fatal flaw.”

“Pride? Arrogance?” I teased, trying to make him laugh.

He shook his head, his eyes serious. “No. Love.”

I waited for him to say something about Izzy, but he didn’t. The air crackled with electricity, but this time, I didn’t want to look away from him.

Although the Coven had agreed to help us, they couldn’t decide which course of action to take. As night fell, Frances insisted we all stay over so we could get back to work in the morning.

I was relieved to find out I’d share a room with Lorna. The other women were all fairly intimidating, but she had a soft smile and seemed nice enough. Marcus volunteered to sleep in the living room on the couch before his father or his uncle could grudgingly offer to share a room with him. No one argued with his decision; of the two Red Witches in the house, they clearly felt that he was the most dangerous.

Lorna picked a room under one of the gables. The slanted roof made the small space feel cozy, like a secret hideaway. There were two old metal bed frames against opposite walls.

“I’ll take the one over here,” Lorna offered, gesturing to the bed under the low, angled ceiling.

“Are you sure? You might hit your head if you sit up too fast.”

She laughed. “Believe me, I’m a sound sleeper, and I never move until I am fully awake. Rushing into things, even daylight, can be dangerous.”

I wondered if she was chastising me for chasing the Seeming into the Underworld a year ago, but her face was neutral. Plumping the feather pillow, I flopped onto the bed. I didn’t have any pajamas, but I didn’t mind sleeping in my clothes for one more night. The springs groaned beneath me.

“So what do you think your Coven has planned? Or is it top secret?”

She smiled and settled herself on her bed without making a sound. “I don’t really know. I think we’re all waiting for divine inspiration to strike.”

I snorted. “Does that happen often around here?”

“No. But we keep wishing it would!”

“Does it ever frustrate you? Being in a group, I mean. Not having the freedom to work alone.”

Lorna thought for a moment. “Not really,” she finally said. “But then again, I never felt pulled to phenomenal magical workings. I’ve always been more inclined to use simple charms and arts. The Coven suits me.”

“Does anyone in the group go in for a flashier kind of magic?” I asked, thinking of Samuel’s fiery temper.

She chuckled. “Of course! We wouldn’t be a very strong group if our members weren’t balanced. But when we work together, we try to find the middle way between showy and simple.”

Other than Izzy, I’d never had the chance to speak so openly with a Witch whose training was so different from my own. “When did you join the group?”

“Mother sort of made me.”

Her voice was calm, but I thought I saw a flicker of anger in her eyes. “How did she do that? Was it like what Marcus’s mom did?”

“No, nothing so dramatic.” She laughed softly. “You see, I had finished up at university, and Mother gave me two choices: join her Coven and receive all the financial and magical support she could offer, or strike out on my own and give up my claim to her.”

I stared at her, aghast. “That’s awful! She gave you the choice of being disowned or joining her group?”

Lorna shrugged. “It hasn’t been a bad decision. Mother is a very powerful Witch; I’m not sure my life would have been as lovely if I’d cut ties with her.”

Gods, I’d never realized how lucky I was to have the parents I did. “My mom’s a Green. I can’t imagine her ever pulling something like that!”

She smiled at me. “White Witches tend to be a little less flexible than Greens. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

I wanted to know more about Jewel, but I had the feeling that Lorna wouldn’t be comfortable speaking about her mother’s patron. “Are you a White, too?”

She smirked. “No. My one rebellion, as Mother calls it. I declared Blue when I turned fourteen.”

“That’s young. I didn’t declare until last year. Who’s your patron?”

She stretched her arms overhead and rolled her neck. Instead of answering me, she asked, “What do you already know about Blue magic?”

I thought back to my conversations with Izzy. It seemed like another lifetime when I first met her outside of her school. “Izzy told me that it’s elemental. Blue magic is connected to water … ” I paused, searching my memory. “And emotion.”

“It’s also connected to art. Not the fiery kind of art that made Sylvia Plath kill herself or Van Gogh maim his ear. Blue magic governs a softer kind of art.”

“Like what?” I had never thought of magic being linked to art, even though I knew that Shakespeare had been a Green Witch.

“Well, I’m a poet. I write delicate little verses about the natural world. Mostly, I write poems to the moon.”

A memory stirred, and I recalled Aphrodite standing in my bedroom, telling me to look at the moon. She had mentioned the duality of the moon as a goddess and the moon as a big rock orbiting the earth, trying to help me see that things could have multiple natures. I shook my head sadly. Sometimes it felt like I still had a long way to go on that lesson.

Lorna misinterpreted my gesture. “It’s not crazy,” she murmured defensively, “just a mark of my devotion. Like I said, I express my magic in small ways.”

“No, it sounds nice! I don’t do anything like that.” She relaxed her smile, so I asked another question. “What about your goddess?”

She sighed. “It’s difficult to tell someone about a patron. Without experiencing her for yourself, you won’t be able to understand.”

“Still,” I pressed, “I’d like to know.”

Lorna stared vacantly across the room. Her breathing slowed, and I realized she was putting herself into a light trance. When she finally spoke, her words shocked me. “My goddess is Nepthys, sister to Isis and bride of Set.”

I sat up to interrupt her, but she went on. “Nepthys is the last born of her siblings, and the one most ignored by man and god alike.” She spoke the words as if they were something she had memorized, the text of some ancient ritual, and I shivered.

“When she was matched with Set, she was not happy and hungered for the husband of her sister. With Osiris, Nepthys bore the god Anubis, and Isis raised her sister’s child as her own. Set was furious at his wife’s betrayal, and since that time he has done all he can to control the power of his wife.” Lorna blinked a few times, her gaze clearing, and looked at me. “That’s why I’m not very good at strong magic; my goddess isn’t allowed to use her full power, so neither do I.” Her voice was back to its normal cadence.

“Why did you swear to her?” The question seemed rude as soon as I said it, but Lorna paused thoughtfully.

“Because I like simple magic. There is so much beauty in the simplest things, and Nepthys helps me to create some of that beauty myself.”

I nodded, thinking about what she had said. “That would make sense. But don’t you ever wish you weren’t limited?”

She shut her eyes and lay back on the pillow. “Has power made your life that much better?”

I couldn’t answer her. I sat there thinking in the dark, listening to the old house shift and settle around me. I didn’t sleep much that night; my thoughts were too jumbled. Worry for Izzy warred with confusion over the growing pull I was feeling toward Marcus, and the stories of the gods swirled around my mind, making sleep almost impossible. When I did eventually drop off, my dreams were filled with the harsh sound of Loki’s laughter. I woke up at dawn disoriented. After taking a few deep breaths, I realized where I was. Lorna’s bed was empty, so I padded down the hall to the stairs. I tied my long hair into a messy knot as I walked, not bothering to stop in the bathroom and check the mirror.

When I stepped into the front room downstairs, ten pairs of eyes turned toward me. Feeling self-conscious, I sat down on a rough wooden chair just inside the door. It was uncomfortable, but I didn’t want to draw more attention to my late arrival by moving. I hoped I wouldn’t end up with splinters in my ass.

“I say we move now,” Samuel resumed the conversation, speaking firmly, but Dr. Farren shook her head.

“There must be more study. We cannot risk harming the child.”

Frances twisted her hands. “We may already be too late.”

Dr. Farren smiled gently at Frances. “But this must be done with caution.” She glanced at me wryly. “Rushing into things has not improved the situation. I say we wait to learn more.”

No one spoke, but I saw Julia and Jewel nodding thoughtfully, and even Matthew looked like he was considering Dr. Farren’s words.

After a moment, Marcus stood up. “Is that your decision, then?” His jaw was set, and his tone made me want to take a few steps back.

“Understand, boy,” Roy stood to face his son, “that we want to save your sister. We simply won’t agree to do anything rash.” There was a tense silence, but finally Marcus shot me a look that spoke volumes and stomped out onto the porch.

“Excuse me,” I whispered to the room, not meeting anyone’s eyes. Then I followed Marcus outside.