“Use me,” Bryn added, gaze fixed on Aaron, her words ringing with a touch of steel.
The strain between them increased with frightening speed.
Just when I thought things might escalate into something more, Bryn shrugged. “Unless they decide I’ve outlived my usefulness and have me jump off a building instead.”
Oh boy.
Hot rage mushroomed like an atom bomb, then spread out to swamp the room. An eerie, dead silence seemed to stretch for eons. Aaron went completely still, so poised it made me a little uneasy. The light was back in his eyes, making the green color brilliant. I’d never seen him like this before, this … inflamed.
But then, I’d never witnessed my sister purposefully provoke a Magnus Level warlock. I wanted to grab her hand and get her out of there before things escalated any further. And then give her a good lecture.
“What do you mean by that?” Aaron asked in a steely tone.
A smug smile twitched at the corner of Bryn’s lip. I glanced up, shot her a scolding look, and elbowed her in the thigh, jumping in before she could make things worse and start the fight she obviously wanted. “Two
Aaron placed his elbows on his knees, putting his hands together to make a teepee with his fingers and resting his chin on top. “Murder?” His head cocked, eyes glittering, the word slipping from his lips like a threat.
“Well, like I said. We won’t know until—”
“It is either murder,” he interrupted in a dangerous tone, “the cult having possessed those two people and then deciding to get rid of them. Or it is the effects of the drug, creating depression deep enough to make suicide an option.”
Obviously, he didn’t appreciate my attempt at downplaying the situation. He wanted to hear it like it was, and I couldn’t blame him; I was the same way. “All right,” I said. “Here’s what I don’t get. If they were possessed, why would the spirits inside of them listen to that kind of order? I mean, without bodies and without being strong enough to take an un-addicted person, they’re releasing themselves to the afterlife, giving up a life, a body. So … why would the spirits allow that to happen?”
Aaron scratched his stubbly jaw. “Depends on how devout a cult member they were in life. You have to remember, they’ve been kept in those spirit jars perhaps for thousands of years. They likely chose to await a new life, to serve the cult in this way. This is a cult that has lasted over two thousand years, Charlie. Even in spirit form, those members would follow orders. True that maybe some wouldn’t, but these two obviously did.”
“I don’t know … It’s not like Tennin to throw away a mole, you know? It’s not his style.”
“Then perhaps it’s not him issuing this particular order.”
Aaron turned to Bryn, his expression analytical and cold and totally not the approach she needed right now. Removed. Unfeeling. “Have you been having suicidal thoughts? Bad dreams, visions? Are you more depressed than usual?”
An inward sigh went through me. If only he’d injected some feeling behind his hard eyes, a little concern into those questions …
I didn’t need to be in her line of sight to know her eyes were spitting copper fire. “Only when I’m around you.”
Ouch.
The tension came roaring back to life.
“Careful, Bryn,” Aaron responded with a hint of arrogance. “Your youth is showing.”
Oh shit. That was the one thing Bryn hated about her relationship with Aaron—the fact that she was twenty-seven and he was a couple hundred years old.
“And for all your years and supposed knowledge,” she said, standing, “you know very little about females.” Her back was rigid, shoulders back, chin up. But below this show of anger, there existed a wealth of hurt. “I’ll take this as my cue to leave. Wouldn’t want me listening in on whatever the oracle said. Might use it against somebody …”
I watched her go, hoping that Aaron would call her back, to show her he cared, but he remained silent until the door was closed. “I’ll double up her guards,” he said. “I want someone by her even while she sleeps, while she’s in the bathroom, while she’s working in the garden. Every moment of every day and night, she’ll be protected …”
Now why in the hell didn’t he say that when she was here?
“Did the oracle say anything else to help us?” he asked.
“She’s arranging an introduction with a creature she believes can see inside of a person and tell whether they’re possessed or not. Called it a sylph. You ever hear of it?”
Aaron blinked, his surprise slowly replaced by scholarly interest. “A sylph. They are little more than legend, even to us.”
“Well, apparently it’s real, so says the all-knowing Sandra.”
“It’s not an
“Oh. What else do you know about them?”
“I only know what the legends say.”
“And what do those say?”
“Some say that sylphs are a distant relation to the nymphs, that somewhere in our prehistory, they left Elysia for this world, first making their homes in the lakes, glens, mountains, and deep woods of what you now know as the British Isles. It’s said that during this time they evolved, diverged, and developed into shifters of the earth, of this world and its elements.
“Supposedly they eventually mated with male Picts and Celts of the area, sent the male children back to their fathers or killed them, and kept the females. It’s the females who have the ability to shift. Earth, air, fire, water. I’d guess they draw energy from their surroundings; develop a kind of symbiotic relationship with earth. I have long believed that this is where legends of your nature spirits come from. The Lady of the Lake, I assume you have heard of her?”
“The one from the King Arthur stories, sure.”
“Perhaps not fiction, perhaps a water sylph tied to a particular lake. Perhaps, even, still there today.”
“Any idea how they see inside?”
“None, I’m afraid. I wasn’t even aware this was a talent they possessed. I’ll research mo If I find anything, I’ll let you know. How’s your arm?” I followed his glance to my right arm. It was covered by my sleeve, but underneath, the scars from the battle atop Helios Tower remained. More precisely the scar or the imprint left from reaching inside of the agate sarcophagus and taking the divine sword from the grip of the First One lying inside, and using it to kill Llyran, the Adonai serial killer who’d been working with the Sons of Dawn for his own psychotic agenda.
That weapon was meant for a divine being to wield. It meant death to anyone who touched it. But because I had the genes of all three worlds coursing through my body—much like the First Ones—I had lived. And now I had what appeared to be some kind of ancient script/molecular-looking symbols running from my fingers to my shoulder.
“I’d very much like to copy the symbols, to study them. When you’re up for it, of course.”
Aaron felt strongly that the markings on my arm were from the language of the First Ones. Divine script. The first writings. The root language of the three worlds. And to him it was further evidence that I was morphing into— or evolving back into—a First One, a divine being, the first beings formed by the Creator and the genetic forefathers of the three noble races: humans, Charbydon nobles, and the Elysian Adonai.
“Maybe when
He actually smiled at that. Aaron was a long way from being healed and he knew it.
After I left the tiny hut in the woods, I took the meandering path that led to the school.
Bigger and grander than the Mordecai House, the League’s school, all done in gray stone and Gothic architecture, seemed like the perfect atmosphere to study the arcane. The grounds were beautiful and just as immaculate as the grounds of the Mordecai House.
I really didn’t think about what I did next, just let my feet carry me to the front of the main building and then followed the signs that pointed to the office, where I spoke with the administrative assistant. After looking over the
