Winging It (35 page)

On this night, he just stared at the screen, indifferent.

Which said it all.

I went to bed.

I’m not sure he noticed I’d left.

The cat trotted behind me with purpose, then leapt to my windowsill to stare at the night.

‘You’re going to need a name,’ I said to him and he gave me a look, as if I had no business choosing a name for his regal fabulousness.

His choice.

The short version of the story is that Meagan and I argued big-time on Monday.

I said (again) that she should bail on jazz practice.

She declined.

I said that she shouldn’t let Trevor drive her home.

She declined.

I insisted on being allowed to accompany her to jazz.

She declined, saying I would blow her cover.

I intended to do it anyway, but I got another note from Muriel the guidance counselor.

Yup, I was enrolled in the program for kids of families damaged by divorce.

Go ahead. Guess when the classes were.

You got it. Mondays and Thursdays, right after school. Attendance not optional.

I couldn’t have planned it better if I’d been a Mage.

On Friday night, I dressed for war.

I chose my favorite black jeans and my black lace-up boots with the heavy soles. My purple hoodie zipped right up to my chin and barely squished under the black leather jacket I’d permanently borrowed from Nick’s mom, Alex. I had the ring on my finger and I shoved my rune stone into my pocket. I tucked the last feather of Kohana’s into the pocket inside the left front of the jacket, pulled on a pair of acid green gloves, and was ready to go.

My dad didn’t seem to notice my departure. He was still in the living room, breathing smoke, his eyes like embers in the dark.

‘Going to Isabelle’s!’ I shouted without looking back.

I raced down the corridor and swung down the stairs of the building, erupting into the night. I could feel the glow of the rising moon and jammed my hands into my pockets as I headed for the cemetery.

To my astonishment, Fish Breath was right behind me, power-trotting through the snow. Maybe he’d heard me say I was going to see Isabelle.

I thought it was a bad idea for the cat to accompany me. He weighed a ton and I had a long walk ahead of me. The last thing I wanted was to need to carry him.

And Isabelle would flay me alive if I lost him.

Furball believed otherwise. We had a dispute in the street, during which I tried to persuade him to go home and he took a swipe at me with those claws of his when I tried to make him. I gave it up and kept walking. He trotted behind me, keeping up and only periodically complaining with a meow or two.

I decided I would not worry about it if he got lost on the way.

I knew it was a lie. I was getting used to His Majesty, watching over me as I slept and flicking his tail at me with attitude in the morning. He sat on the kitchen counter and yowled when he thought it was time to eat, which happened about twice a day.

He had, to his credit, even made my dad smile.

Looked like we were going to Graceland together.

That’s an old song, isn’t it?

The city was quiet.

Too quiet.

It gave me a sense of foreboding – assuming that I wasn’t carrying that along all by myself. This was it, the big test.

And I still didn’t have the answers or know what to do.

No pressure.

I shouldn’t have been surprised that it started to snow again, much less that it would snow harder with every passing minute. The flakes were as big as my fist by the time I met Isabelle at the subway station.

The cat yowled and wound around her ankles, proprietary and obviously glad to see her. And no wonder – she picked up Ol’ Lard Butt right away. We didn’t talk much as we walked to the cemetery, although I was pretty sure we were both thinking about Meagan. Could we haul her back from the dark side?

Although the snow had been plowed on the city streets, we sank up to our knees in the white stuff as soon as we entered the cemetery. It was quiet there, and might have been peaceful if I hadn’t been fretting about Mages.

We hadn’t gone far before I noticed the wolf. It stood on the far side of a gravestone, as still as the shadows, watching us with those unblinking pale eyes.

‘Derek?’ I whispered, not daring to hope.

His Royal Fabulousness hissed.

I saw, though, that the wolf had one blue eye and one that was gray. So, it wasn’t Derek – just one of his kind. Okay. I was encouraged that another wolf shifter had turned up. Would this one follow my lead? Be on my side? Or was he with the holdouts who didn’t want to follow a dragon girl?

The wolf turned away, slipping into the darkness just the way Derek did. I wasn’t quite ready for him to disappear. It seemed like I should be able to make some argument in my own favor. I leapt after him, sinking past my knees in the snow.

Then I saw that there were dozens of wolves in the shadows. Like the cats in the sewers, they were all heading toward a point of convergence. The moon touched their fur with silver, making them look both precious and ethereal.

Relentless hunters.

I remembered Derek’s comment about dogs seeing in black and white. They would decide whether to follow me based on my performance. Deeds over words. I was sure of it. The wolves turned as one and looked toward the far end of the cemetery.

I followed the direction of their gazes and saw the sickening swirl of spell light.

Beckoning.

The wolves were moving toward its vortex with purpose.

Could they see it? Smell it? Or were they just drawn to it?

‘That way?’ Isabelle guessed and I nodded. ‘Creepy enough place to eliminate species.’ She shuddered as we turned our steps in that direction. The wolves kept apart from us, several regularly casting glances our way.

I had the feeling that I was being watched. Not just by occasional wolves, either. I looked around and noticed a monument in front of me. It was a large square block of stone, which wasn’t very interesting. The figure standing before it, though, made my heart stop cold.

It was a hooded figure, its face hidden by the shadows of the hood.

It could have been Urd, except the cloak wasn’t black. It had the patina of verdigris.

I had the feeling it was the one watching me, like a guardian.

An angel of death, maybe.

But I couldn’t see its eyes. I needed to see its eyes. I wanted to know who was watching me, friend or foe.

I swallowed and walked closer to it, seeing the spindle that had fallen in the snow only when I nearly stepped on it. I reached for the spindle, uncertain whether it was real or not. My fingers closed on cold wood. The eyes within the hood glinted.

Relief swept through me. Better the devil you know.

‘Hey, Urd, want to come along?’ I asked and handed her the spindle.

Isabelle had stopped to watch me. She probably thought I was nuts. I heard her swear for the first time ever when the figure’s arm moved. Skeletal fingers reached out to grasp the spindle as I heard the creak of Urd’s bones. She turned it in her hands, checking it. Then it and her hands disappeared beneath the hem of her sleeves.

She abruptly stepped down from the monument. I continued and she followed us, her cloak leaving a trail in the snow. Isabelle’s eyes were round and she looked straight ahead, holding tightly to the cat. He stared over her shoulder, watching Urd with obvious suspicion.  

Urd began to murmur as we walked. It was a spooky sound, one that made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. I halfway didn’t want to know what she was doing. I couldn’t see any spell light, but I could feel energy in the air.  

A few moments later, I saw one monument from my trip to Trevor’s memory. It was the crusading knight, shield planted on the ground, gaze fixed heroically on the horizon. This presumably was where daring deeds were being done. Urd strode to the side of the gravestone, still murmuring. As I watched, she made a gesture, like blowing a kiss to the knight.  

He turned his head to look at her.  

He lifted his visor.  

He gripped his sword more resolutely.  

Then he hefted his shield and marched behind us.  

I stared. He was stone. He was a carving. But Urd’s kiss had him moving like a man of flesh and blood.  

Albeit one that was about nine feet tall.  

When the monument of the little girl stepped out of her glass box to walk behind the knight, I guessed the pattern. I pivoted to stare over the cemetery, seeing the array of shadows following us. Urd had awakened the stones, turning stones to people instead of the other way around.  

The exact opposite of the Mage spell cast at Trevor’s party.

‘I thought this place couldn’t get more creepy,’ Isabelle murmured, but I was relieved.

We weren’t going in alone. We were going in with an animated army of rock.

Couldn’t hurt.

There was no question of our destination. The beat of the spell was insistent. Even if I hadn’t been able to see the spell light, I would have felt its allure. It wound into my thoughts and urged me closer, drawing me to certain destruction.

Isabelle was caught in it, too, this time. We didn’t have to confer at all about our path. We just trudged along. I didn’t doubt that she was trying to keep it from completely claiming her thoughts, just like I was. It was really strong. I fought despair. Futility. A relentless sense of being doomed.

As we walked, the snow stopped falling. I felt the breath of wind and looked up to see the clouds being swept away. They were thinning fast, patches of starlight becoming visible.

We halted when we saw the triple circle of Mages. It was just like my dream. Two circles facing outward and one facing inward. In the middle, I could see Trevor, Meagan at his side, a frenzy of golden light swirling around her. She stared at Trevor with apparent adoration. The guys were there, too, and I was so relieved to see they were still alive that my knees nearly gave out.

They struggled against their spell bonds, snared in human form.

Jessica was there also, although she seemed to be more tired.

Or resigned to her fate.

Derek seemed watchful, caught in a haze of spells and snarling. What did he see two minutes into our collective future?

His Regalness leapt from Isabelle’s arms and strode through the snow toward the circle with verve, his tail waving like a banner. Isabelle might have gone after him but I stopped her with a gesture.

The cat Meagan had saved, the gray one she’d named Mozart, was sitting on a stone closer to the circle. His tail lashed as he watched the scene avidly. Fish Breath leapt to sit beside him. They exchanged quick glances, then simultaneously began to clean their paws.

I wasn’t fooled. They weren’t that disinterested. They would have stayed warm and cozy at home if they didn’t care.

I looked to either side and saw that the shadows were alive everywhere. I could barely discern the silhouettes of wolves all around us. Mostly I saw the pale glitter of their eyes.

And incredibly, mingled between them and gathered in smaller groups, there were dozens of cats. Maybe they were survivors from the sewer adventure. Maybe they were other ones.

But they weren’t all house cats. I saw black panthers with golden eyes. I saw sleek and spotted jaguars. There were golden cougars with massive teeth watching from the trees. I understood that they were all shifters, all cat shifters, and that was why they’d come. Adrian had shifted to a lion, but lions must be the only cat shifters that the Mages had exterminated.

And Kohana had lied to me about it. Big surprise.

We were all here.

And we were all focused on the Mage circle.

The woman I’d seen in Trevor’s memory stepped forward and there was a quickening in the air. Urd exhaled in a hiss behind me. The woman raised her hands just as the last of the clouds cleared and the light of the full moon shone on the circle.

She raised her hands and started to sing.

The ceremony began.

‘Behold the NightBlade,’ the woman sang and held the dark blade high. I didn’t like the look of it any more than I had in Trevor’s memory. The chorus echoed her words, singing them so that they reverberated. ‘Gift of the ShadowEaters. Carved of a meteorite. Possessed of the power to liberate shadows.’

Just as before, she waved the blade, making symbols in the air. Isabelle caught her breath, so she must have recognized them. The spell light was a vivid frenzy and the light emanating from the blade pounded into my brain. I thought my head might explode from the light show.

‘We invoke the ShadowEaters,’ she sang. ‘And invite them to our feast. Come, come among us, exalted ones. Come and partake of our offering.’

I was sure she would reach for Jessica or one of the guys. I was desperate to think of a way to stop her.

But she turned to Trevor.

He grabbed Meagan’s shoulders from behind. I saw her horror. She struggled, but his grip was tight and the spells were wrapping around her as well.

‘The ShadowEaters demand a sacrifice for your initiation,’ sang the woman to Trevor. The light was getting sparkly and I could see those shadowy shapes taking form between the Mages.

‘And so it is offered, in good faith,’ sang Trevor, pushing Meagan forward.

Hey! It wasn’t supposed to be this way!

Meagan fought and bit against Trevor’s grip. The guys struggled with new force against their bonds, as if they wanted to help her. Even Jessica was writhing in the snow. The wolves slipped closer to the circle and the cats watched unblinkingly, their claws bared.

‘The ShadowEaters demand a spellsinger as admission to the inner sanctum,’ the woman sang, her hands high in the air.

‘And so I have snared one. Behold, your humble servant who does only your will.’ Trevor pushed Meagan forward so that she stumbled. He fell to his knees and pulled her down to hers.

‘Blood and shadow,’ sang the woman as she grabbed Meagan’s hair and pulled her head back. ‘We shall all eat well at this feast.’ She lifted the NightBlade, its edge gleaming with evil.