Wicked Circle

stood, searching all around.

A shadow crossed the inland darkness, a shadow with ears pricked.

For a single heartbeat, it seemed like a dark wolf racing toward me, attacking—but I knew this was not true. The shadow was too small to be Johnny in wolf form. It was Amenemhab, my jackal totem animal, who was approaching.

He padded close and sat. The crescent moon above us silvered his back and darkened his muzzle, but his tail wagged happily—a good sign.

“It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise,” he replied. “How’s your mother?”

The last time I’d chatted with him, it had been about her. I filled him in on the events since then.

“So she does care and she has learned,” he said.

“Yeah. I guess.” I hadn’t believed this was possible when he’d suggested it. “She’s trying to guilt me into reciprocating, but that’s not why I’m here.”

“It isn’t?”

“No.” I explained that Liyliy was holding me hostage, and that she expected me to unmake a magical necklace without allowing me to touch the necklace or to tap the ley line for power.

“Hmmm . . .” he said.

I remembered that Creepy’s visit might be important too, but before I could speak, Amenemhab said, “And yet the two are not so dissimilar.”

“Huh?”

“As Liyliy is keeping you from the freedom you want, you are similarly holding your mother hostage from your love, which she wants.”

I frowned at him, but he was undeterred.

“Liyliy wants you to unmake the necklace and will restrict your freedom until you do as she wants. You want your mother to change, and you restrict her access to your heart until she does as you want. Are you following me so far?”

“Unhappily, yes.”

“Liyliy refuses to give you access to the item of power, but this complication makes winning your freedom more difficult for you, and because Liyliy does not trust you, this undermines the success of her goal. Care to outline how this is reflected with your mother?”

I crossed my arms, not that a physical show of being “blocked off” would have any effect on a totem animal. “I refuse to let her into my heart, but my standoffishness makes her more stubborn, and because I don’t trust her, all this undermines my chance of eliciting a change in her behavior.”

“See? You do understand.” He flashed the jackal version of a grin. “As Liyliy denies you access to the ley line, she lowers her chances for a satisfying outcome. As you deny your mother your love, you do the same, and it is a shame, for that is the one thing that can change her.”

“Okay, I get it. I see it. Life is wildly synchronous. But I can’t do anything about my mother if I don’t get away from Liyliy. So help me out here. How do I unmake this thing?”

“Why would you?” Amenemhab stood and paced back and forth before me. It was unnerving, since that was exactly what Liyliy had done. Just as I was about to say something about it, his tail dropped down. “Unmaking a spell of this magnitude, which was never part of you in either the making or the receiving, is interference with karmic repercussions. If you do this, you will bear an iron chain. It will have to be abolished if ever you are to reach your destiny, and nullifying it in this lifetime would be very difficult indeed.” He bowed his head.

“Then I have to get the necklace away from her, which will be next to impossible.”

“Is she so fierce?”

“She’s very capable and there, my right arm is injured.”

His snout lifted. “You’ve been tested. Those tests were not given you simply to strengthen you. In passing them you earned power and were afforded privileges and opportunities . . . such as unmaking that which was unjustly wrought upon you. But to balance the success of an opportunity, there comes a challenge.”

My shoulders squared. “So what do I do?”

He cocked his head. “Have you evaluated where you are in your cycle?”

“You want to talk about my period?”

“No. Your life cycle,” Amenemhab laughed. “Birth. Life. Death.”

I scratched my head. “I’m pretty sure I’m well past the birth part and into the life part, and hopefully none too close to the death part.”

“Each facet of life can also be gauged upon its life cycle. Like a love affair. Some are born quickly, live briefly and die in flames.”

Johnny. My stare dared the totem animal to make that connection.

“It is the way of existence—and your existence as the Lustrata is no different. What is birth?”

“Birth is creation, beginning, initiation.”

“And life?”

“Life is development, growth, progress.”

“It is time to evolve, Persephone. Time to take what you know and all you have earned and unite it.” He held his head high. “Embracing the goddess whose torches light your path and whose grace protects you is easy. Embracing the goddess who would set you aflame, who would drown you and cast your body soaring wingless into the sky . . . is not easy, and yet you embrace Her still. Some would let fear immobilize them, yet you just accept what She asks of you and do it. That sets you apart, Persephone.”

I hadn’t thought to “blame” Hecate for the close calls during my tests. Though I hadn’t grasped it during the first test—I’d been naïve, but I’d come to understand that danger was to be expected when a deity assessed a mortal.

“Your devotion and loyalty shine like bright beacons that declare you ready for the more treacherous journey along the deeper path.”

I cast my eyes toward the island that resembled a spearhead jammed into the middle of the lake. I’d seen the giant steps to Tartarus inside there. I didn’t want to go back.

“I cannot tell you the answer,” he said softly, “for these things of which I speak are uniquely yours, as will be the manner in which you combine them.”

“If I have so much, why isn’t the course of action obvious to me?”

“Being the Lustrata is no simple honor. It will only get harder.”

Delightful.

“You have a decision to make, Lustrata: Cor aut mors. I leave you to it.” He turned to leave, then stopped. “My time with you is growing short, Persephone; I feel another totem will soon replace me.”

That made me sad.

“Be at peace, Persephone. When things change here, it is evidence of evolution.” Amenemhab trotted away.

I awakened inside the cargo hold. Not wanting Liyliy to find the wet circle of salt and become suspicious, I wiggled around and hoped it disguised my actions.

“Cor aut mors,” Amenemhab had said. It was Latin for “heart or death.” It meant a choice between the morals and loyalty of the heart, or the insignificance and disgrace of death.

Of course I would choose “heart.”

C’mon, Snickers bar, and kick in. I have a karmic suicide to avoid.

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

In her suite at the Cleveland Renaissance Hotel, Aurelia emerged from the bathroom carrying an empty goblet. She wore a thick terry robe, and her towel-dried hair was combed straight. As she crossed the living room to the table, where an uncorked bottle of wine rested on a bed of ice, she paused to dig a