She tried to get some sense of where and when she was, but the woman whom she inhabited kept her eyes downcast. Only feet and moonlit sand were visible. The feet were small and tanned, with ragged
overgrown nails and thick calluses on the toes. That led her to concentrate on the body. It was tired
—a bone-aching weariness that filled every muscle to burning. The spirit was likewise weak and dejected. Hopelessness and depression had set in, and she could feel herself wondering if this would be her entire life? Was she just to be used and thrown away like the others? A voice to her left finally raised her head. "It's time. We have the sacrifice ready." The words had a distinct accent she 'd heard recently, but she couldn't place it immediately.
A single massive tree stood in the center of a vast, flat landscape. The sky was clear of clouds, and the woman looked up briefly, appealing to God to let this end tonight. Let this be the last time she would have to watch another die so she could live.
Josette
watched as she walked closer to the tree and realized that she was looking at a
different
casting circle
—
nearly identical to the one in the jungle, but with different symbols around the outside of the central ring.
What in the hell was going on?
The woman closed her eyes as she stepped into the circle.
Josette
felt her flinch as the screams of another rose into the night and then ended with a gurgle that chilled her blood. An object was handed to the woman and she fondled it without opening her eyes. It felt like leather, but it was smooth in one direction and rough when the hand
moved the other direction. The woman liked the feel of it
—it amused her. She reached for the edge and
Josette
realized it was a book. It was another power book! She could feel the energy that surged through the woman's fingers as the pages opened.
A headache suddenly began to throb in
Josette 's
own head, distant and apart from where her mind was. She tried desperately to listen to the words, tried to remember them so she could find them when the time came, so she could remove this spell
—
because it was absolutely a spell that was affecting her real body.
But then she was sucked away again, pulled forcibly from the mind of the woman, and back into the snake caster's mind. The shift from desert to jungle made her gasp for breath, and she could feel Rick's frantic hands on her, trying to revive her. At the moment, though, she needed to be here. She knew it. This was important. This time, the snake caster knew she was there and spoke to her consciousness directly.
Josette
could both feel the mouth and feel the words appear in her mind.
"Welcome, Sazi seer. Your power will be my greatest prize for my master. Know that your life force will bring a great new age and finally return the world to its rightful state."
She pulled on her own power to reply.
"I think you're mistaken. Because this meeting will be
your
undoing, not mine."
A
chuckle was the only reply before the power of the casting circle rose and filled the small rock room. She gasped as power began to pull out of her and into the circle. But the caster apparently didn't realize who he was dealing with. She hadn't lived this long without having a few tricks of her own. She allowed her power to flow into the circle until it was full to bursting, and then called it all back to her again like a growing storm. Energy swirled around her real body, raising her earrings into the air and pulling at the hairs of Rick's beard. Rain began to fall on them as storm clouds filled the sky over Pony. Lightning flashed dangerously close as she felt outward for the other seers. She pulled power from them, and they gave it willingly
—feeling her presence and adding their will and fury.
With murderous intent she turned all the power on the caster, forced it to fill his veins, his limbs, his mind. He was taken by surprise and had no way of knowing what she was doing was even possible. His blood began to boil from the heat of the surge until he screamed and screamed and then
…
stopped.
She came back into her body just as the caster died and felt her own power kick back to her so hard and fast that she turned over on Rick's lap and vomited her breakfast onto the nearby junk. She heaved on
hands and knees until she was empty, leaving her dizzy and with a migraine that seared her eyes every time she tried to open them.
Rick's voice was shaken and rough when the air bubble in her head finally popped, so that she could hear. "What in the hell just happened."
"He tried to kill me from the inside out." The words were tiny little gasps and her voice was hoarse. "My throat hurts."
"Uh yeah. No doubt. You were screaming bloody murder. But fortunately, every time you did, thunder boomed from the storm you brewed up, so nobody would have heard it."
After three tries, she finally got her eyes open in a squint, but wide enough to see that his leather jacket was covered in blood. Most likely it was hers from the way her right temple and shoulder were pounding. "Did I cut myself?"
He nodded and took another shaky breath. "Big time. But it's healed now. You've been out for nearly half an hour. Are you okay?"
She chuckled lightly, and even that made her stomach hurt. "Hardly. But I will be now. I was right. There was a spell, and it was a snake. But it wasn't the only one. This one was a siphon spell. There's another one, too
—a different caster who's a woman.
That's
the blocking ritual."
"I
don't understand
the difference. You mean there are different kinds of spells that can be used against Sazi, outside of simple power? There's ritual magic, too?" Rick hated sounding like an idiot, but he needed to know what she was talking about if he was going to be of any use.
Josette
nodded and moved to a slightly different position, so she could lean her back against a rusted tractor wheel. "Pretty much. We Sazi don't use it much. Mostly we rely on our personal magic
—our 'gifts.' But while it is slower, and takes a lot of delicate, uninterrupted work, ritual magic can be immensely powerful. A lot of it predates Christianity. I think it was partly the spread of Christianity and the witch hunts that curtailed most of the use."
"But these snakes used it."
"Yes, they did. And apparently, they've been using it for some time
—pulling power from all of the seers without our knowledge. I don't know why yet, but Charles might know. He should be starting to feel better any time now."
Once again, Josie had gone her own way, without thinking of the consequences. He didn't try to fight when the frustrated noise rose and exited his mouth. He stood up to put the motorcycle back on its tires, where the wind from the storm had knocked it over. "So, you just killed him. Without finding out what he was up to?"
Her voice was calm, the sort of stillness that
challenged him to argue. "He was trying to kill
me,
Rick. I didn't have much choice."
He offered her a hand up, but she used the massive wheel to get to her feet instead. "You know that's not going to be the end of it, right?"
She gave him a look like he was stupid. "Of course. There'll be other plans, and probably other seers who can do ritual magic. All the council has
ever
been able to do with the snakes is beat them back. If you think them safe or trustworthy, you're a fool. They rise up and you beat them back. They plan and plot and we foil it. It's a never-ending game. Short of killing them all to extinction, there's nothing to be done except keep fighting them, one battle at a time." She must have noticed his expression and sighed. "You think I did the wrong thing, don't you?"
He threw up his hands before straddling the bike once more and wheeling it around to make sure everything functioned. He hated when it tipped over. "Hell, I don't know, Josie! Everything with you is just so damned black and white. But as much as I hate it, I learned in Wolven that there are a million shades of gray. I trust my instincts with people, where you look for traps and plots. Maybe some of the snakes are inherently evil. Perhaps I'm wrong and you're right, and they're
all
evil. Maybe you
did
do the right thing this time. It just frustrates me that you don't stop to think about
whether
it is the right thing before you start. You just do it and then worry
about it later. One of these days, that's going to bite you in the ass."
He turned to see her face, fully expecting it to be livid. Instead, she was close to tears and the wave of pain hit him in the chest hard enough to make him flinch. The words were whispered and filled with hurt. "Do you really believe that? That I just go off half-cocked and do things without thinking
—
Mil
people without considering the consequences?"
"Do you?" The question was serious and
h
is voice flat and cold. He needed to know. The Josie he used to know couldn't kill as easily as this new version that Lucas and Raven had told him about
—the one who casually talked about all the assassins she'd disposed of over the years last night, the dozens of
people
that were dead by her hand. "Do you even think about them being
people
anymore? Or are they just
the snakes
…
the villains, the enemy to be destroyed? Who are you, Josie? Who have you become?"
This is why he left Wolven, because he was getting the same way, killing without thought because there was no other choice. At the end, he didn't much like himself anymore.
A thousand emotions pierced his chest as quickly as they fluttered across her face, making his heart race. The scents of sorrow and fear blended with the ozone still in the air and he fought to breathe through it, to think through the tide. He watched her arms wrap around herself, as though she were freezing
cold. She was still so pale from the vision, and he nearly pulled her against him to warm her and make her feel better. But he just couldn't. Last night, she'd seemed like the old Josie
—proud and strong, a warrior with a heart, the woman he'd loved with everything he was. Today, though
…
this was a new person, colder, with sharp edges. No, right now he couldn't hold her—not until he knew who, or
what,
he would be holding.
She lowered her eyes to the ground, where foamy bile still dripped from the edge of a rusted sign. "I
…
I need to think. We probably shouldn't arrive back at the motel together. Maybe you should
—"
He nodded, understanding that she was tap-dancing around. "I'll go drive around for awhile. I'll be back around dark and then we can drive to the nearest airport. I'll still get you where you need to go safely. On my honor, I swear that to you."
She looked up then, her face still stricken, but she nodded. Her face and scent showed that she understood what lay beneath his very formal vow. He would travel with her and keep her safe, but there was no future for
…
them
if she'd really changed so drastically from who she used to be.
"Grodin. Lucas and Bruce will be flying into Grodin to meet us."
Rick dipped
h
is head in acknowledgment, then kick-started the bike and eased it back through the broken fence, heading not toward the hotel, but back
to Nelson. He should pick up a new phone and get hold of Raven again, and then keep watch on the compound to see if anything developed. Or maybe he'd just wander at the little pond and think. Perhaps it was
time
to do a little reflection about life and
…
things.
Josette
eased her
legs to a straight position. She'd been sitting on the bed for so long with them tucked against her chest that they'd cramped.
Standing up and stretching would probably be a good idea.
She swung her legs off the bed and began a series of exercises, side-to-side stretches with hands on hips, and then palms flat on the floor. Her mind had been wandering back and forth in time
—not visions, but memories. Had she changed so much? She remembered the numbness that had settled over her mind when she decided to kill the caster, and before, when she realized she
didn't
feel for the rattlesnake and his mate. Was she still the same woman who could be charmed enough by a tiny bunny to ignore her own stomach?
And if she'd changed was it because she didn't
want
to be that woman anymore? Or was it Rick who had changed? He used to be harder than her; more matter of fact, the eternal cop. Who had changed, and could they go back and become people they'd perhaps outgrown?
Yet, it had felt so good being with him again. It wasn't just the sex, but the total release, allowing her
to be herself. She'd let down all her barriers for one night, barriers she'd built up over a century while being alone. He took her at face value, and she let him. A part of her she'd nearly forgotten had leaped at the closeness, at the honesty, and didn't want to lose it.
Soon it was going to be time to leave and he was going to want an answer. Her heart had pounded almost painfully at the thought that he might be interested in more than a simple one-night stand
—a frolic for old times sake. But was there still enough inside her that she could bend to fit herself back into a relationship, if a future even existed for her? And did she want to?
The blinds were rattling, beating against the tile wall with each gust of wind that blew through the open window. Another storm, but she wasn't surprised. The energy over this town had increased tenfold with the killing of the seer. She walked to the bathroom and reached beneath the blinds, intending to pull the window closed when a flash of lightning illuminated the area behind the building. The weeds, where John Simmons had hidden, were crawling with snakes. The largest had a wedge-shaped head the size of a dinner plate
—much too large to be anything native to the area.
Josette
concentrated, trying to listen beneath the sounds of the storm. Yes, there was movement on the roof overhead, or perhaps between the roof and ceiling.
This was
so
not good. Moving as quickly and
silently as she could she crossed into the main part of the room to peek out the window. With the flashing of the neon sign she could made out snakes hidden in the grassy verge that edged the parking lot. Lots of them.