“What do you want, torracollons?” Luisa shouts.
Rafi rubs his face, sighs, and looks up. He’s no longer smiling.
“They found a body,” he says. “Maribel is dead.”
Chapter Twenty
“Found washed ashore, as if Poseidon spat her out overnight…Drowned in the sea, not a mark on her… I didn’t even know she was depressed…She did like a drink.”
I wander around Maribel’s home where her wake is taking place, trailed by the hum of faceless gossip. A few pings are scattered among the statements. People like to embellish, yet when it comes to the dead many outright lie. The nasty tittering is incessant, so I make my way to the balcony.
My father was right, Maribel was in the sea. The Winter Prince delivered on his promise and washed her body ashore yesterday morning. I’ve not had contact with him since.
From what I’m hearing, most Mages believe Maribel’s death was from suicide. I may have located her, but I’m even further away from getting my story. If she was killed, then who did it? And if she killed herself, then why?
Dead MA First, Found in the Sea is a strong enough headline to bring back to The Chronicle, but something doesn’t feel right. My spidey sense is tingling — and not just because we are about to bury the world’s most powerful Witch in what looks like a gingerbread house made from nightmare dough.
Maribel’s home is one of four in Parque Güell. Humans are aware of three houses here, most of which are open to the public as part of the famed Catalan designer Gaudí’s park. But the fourth, a grander and more intricate house, is further up on the hill and protected from the public by a concealment charm.
The exterior is purple mosaic, rendered in Gaudí’s favorite style of biomimicry, the lilac and amethyst tiles layered to represent a Siren’s tail.
At least he wasn’t a bigot, like the rest of them, I think, stepping out onto the large balcony.
With a start, I remember my mother will soon be moving in here as the new First. She will be living in this grand mauve MA equivalent to the White House. This fact does little to relax me, although the warm air eases my breathing — the suffocating stench of death and gossip slowly evaporating from my skin.
“You’d think humans would believe in Witches once they visit a park like this one,” Luisa says, waving her hand over the magical landscape as she sidles up to me.
“You’d think.”
“You OK, Saskia?” She’s noticed my heavy breathing. “May I?”
I nod and she places her hand on my shoulder, the tension fading immediately. I’ve come to enjoy Luisa’s soothing touch, which could easily rival any Xanax.
“Thanks.”
I want to pull her closer, get lost in her embrace, but instead I step away a little. My mother is somewhere in this house, and even though she wouldn’t give a shit if I was with a man or a woman, I don’t want her near Luisa. Solina having an insight into my happiness is giving her too much power over me. It’s about as dangerous as telling someone on the Blood Web where you live. What I have with Luisa is one thing I’m not letting my mother ruin before it even starts.
I squeeze Luisa’s fingers gently. “How are you?”
She gives me a forced smile. “It’s a shock to us all. I mean, we suspected Maribel was dead, but suspicion and a corpse are two different things. What about you?” she adds. “You knew her longer than I did.”
Maribel hasn’t been on my radar for years. I don’t feel much about her death. I shrug.
“But it means your mother will be the new First. That must be strange for you.”
“I’m getting used to ‘strange’. Do you know what happens next? As in… after the wake?”
“There will be an Ascension ceremony by the next full moon, and that’s when the new First announces her Second. It’s usually someone high up, or close to the First. Do you know who it will be?”
I’m guessing Salvador, which is probably for the best. Maybe he’ll keep my power-hungry mother in check. I swallow down the acrid bile in my throat at the very thought of my mom having so much control over everyone.
“I don’t care who she chooses,” I say. “As long as she keeps me out of her politics. MA power trip drama is exhausting.”
Luisa smiles and squeezes my hand. “I have to go,” she says, kissing me quickly. “In an MA burial Touchmages are expected to heal the guests. You know, alleviate their grief.”
I hide my distaste and return to the main hall, immediately wishing I hadn’t. Maribel’s corpse has been laid out on a marble altar at the front of the room for all to see. She’s dressed in purple silk and wearing make-up, her cheeks tinted with an unnaturally rosy dew. She looks like she’s sleeping. Fuck, it’s only just occurred to me — her drowned body must have been drained of water and magically restored to its natural form. Humans would never display a drowning victim in an open casket like this.
A quick glance around the room confirms my theory. Rafi, and two other Elementals I’m not familiar with, are holding their palms up to the body and channeling in tandem. Maribel is dry, so I don’t understand what they are doing until I spot a green shoot snake its way over her shoulder. Foliage starts to sprout slowly around Maribel’s body then turns into magical blooms, until she is completely shrouded in bright lilac and white flowers.
Everyone in the room is either softly weeping or busy working. Beatriz and Luisa are at opposite ends of the room, methodically migrating across it and pausing to lay their touch on each attendee. Beatriz can’t take away pain like Luisa, but I guess she can gift people soft dreams and ease their grief that way.
I’m
