Dark Cotillion (First in the Brenna Strachan Series)

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The room was cool and dark. The furniture was blissfully silent. I wasn’t tired physically, nearly as much as I was mentally. It was a lot to absorb. Dragons and Wyverns and Minotaurs, oh my! And the only things at my disposal were four Overlords, a handful of other Elders, Demonnation, and untamed Witch magic. It didn’t seem like nearly enough. Then again, I wasn’t sure all the Elders and Humans on the planet seemed like enough.

  I flopped onto the bed and pulled out the book that I was supposed to be studying. However, given that I was pretty convinced I was going to die, it seemed like a waste. I tossed it aside and opened my Sherlock Holmes instead.

  Three hours later and that is how Anubis found me. My nose was buried inside the Sherlock Holmes book of extraordinary size and completely oblivious to the world around me. He sat down on the bed before I noticed him.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Not particularly, no.” I frowned at him and put the book down on my lap. “Chiron sucks.”

  “You should make that into a bumper sticker.” Anubis gave a heavy sigh. “It would probably sell well even among the Centaurs. They could wear them on their rumps.”

  “That would be interesting. What happens if Chiron dies?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what happens if Chiron dies? What happens to the Centaurs, to the Elders, to the balance and order of our world?”

  “I don’t know. An Overlord has never died. It seems that a new Overlord would come into being. Nature abhors a vacuum.”

  “Instead of playing defense, maybe we should be playing offense.”

  “You want to go after Chiron?” Anubis gave me a disapproving look.

  “He causes me nothing but strife and perturbation.”

  “How would you get to him? And how would you kill him?”

  “We could feed him to a Dragon or Wyvern.”

  “Really, Bren?”

  “No,” I sighed, “not really, but it would make the Maturing a lot easier. He’s insane.”

  “Insanity is like beauty.”

  “Whatever that means.”

  “It’s in the eye of the beholder. You call him insane, but others would call him heroic. In this case, he is no different than Alexander, Ramses, or any of the other insane rulers who did great things.”

  “Did you ever meet any of them?”

  “Insane rulers?” Anubis gave me a smile. “More than my fair share. Pharaoh really did have a screw or two loose, but he was an amazing leader. And Alexander…”

  “What about him?”

  “He made Nero look like a bloody saint. Nero got a bad rap.”

  “Must not have had as good a publicist as Alexander.” I gave another sigh.

  “Very true.” Anubis looked around the room. “So what scares you the most?”

  “Now or in general?”

  “Now.”

  “Everything.” I looked at him earnestly. “If I die, I could bring down four Overlords. How hard would it be to replace them? Worse yet, it would be over something silly. And while I have trouble fathoming eternity in any real terms, death is even more complicated. Yes, I think everything is an apt list.”

  “Would it help if I told you we would protect you?”

  “Not really. Who will protect you?” I frowned. “What happens if during battle, some stray Dragon decides to eat you or Beal? Will the rest of us die along with you? Will it be as slow and painful as your own? If we survive it, will our souls survive? Magic is tricky, complicated, and forever changing. Just when you think you understand it, you find out you’ve got the wrong handbook. Do you know why I’m not a better Witch?”

  “Because you don’t practice the art like you should?”

  “Because it scares me. Demon magic is tamed and it makes sense. It is understandable. I can heal. The ability to lay on hands and take the suffering of another is an amazing and great thing. But I understand the rules of it and I understand its limitations. Witch Magic, especially untamed, it isn’t predictable. I can shape it, try to make it bend to my will, but sometimes, even with the greatest help, it goes awry, hence the enchanted furniture and trapped souls that live in this room. As much as the two magic’s help each other, they also hurt my control. The Demon in me, it can make me stronger, more powerful, but it lessens my control of the Witch. It is something my mother has never understood. Something I don’t think anyone but Daniel really understands. He has the same problem. Too much Witch magic and too much Demon magic. The Witch can rip the soul from your body and the Demon wants to heal such a fracture. My mother told me that I am the second most powerful Witch in the world right now. It is hard to comprehend the repercussions of such a thing. Untamed magic, powerful untamed magic, swirling around me, inside of me, waiting to be forced out, and begging to be used. What I did with the trees a couple of nights ago, as a full immortal Demon, it wouldn’t have even made me flinch, let alone tire me out. It would have been nothing more than a parlor trick. It would have been more controlled and I would have been able to put them back to sleep, but I have done it before. One year, at Daniel’s birthday party, we were killing time before it started and I awoke a tree and had it dance for Daniel. No one was the wiser, by the time everyone arrived; the tree was back to being rooted in place, back to slumbering, as it should have been.

  “When I wield the family sword, I feel it talk to me, beg me not to break the curse that holds it together. Do you have any idea what it is like to hold a cursed object and know that you can force the magic to explode, force the magic to become so great, the ethereal can’t hold it together? Somewhere, deep inside, I know that I could force enough magic into your soul to break your curse. Just as I know that in doing so, I would kill you. I would destroy your very soul with the magic I could pour in. Your body would probably survive it, but what is living if you have no soul? And somewhere, I know exactly what Great House cursed you. I feel its mark of magic burned into you and I know that my magic is stronger.”

  “You don’t really fear the magic then, you fear what you can do with it,” Anubis answered as I paused.

  “Yes.” I looked at the wall. “I’ve known since I was a child that the Demon wasn’t going to be a problem, it was always going to be the Witch. Children, even children from the Great Houses, do not cast spells in their sleep. The few that do eventually stop performing Witch magic because they become afraid of it. My mother is that way. She still casts, but not as she did when she was a young woman, and I don’t think, Magnus has cast a spell in at least forty years. And now…”

  I spread my arms wide, palms up. Anubis looked around the room.

  “Now what?” He asked after scanning the place.

  “Now, I may have sealed the fates of four others. Not a great track record for a thirty year old Demon.”

  “But astounding for a thirty year old Witch.” Anubis smiled. “You forget that we also chose this fate. Your mother and Magnus tried to break it and it wouldn’t break. Something had to hold it together, something other than you. The only thing we’ve ever been able to come up with is us. We felt you cast the spell, we did nothing to stop it, and we felt them try to break it and it failed. I don’t think even you could break it with their help. You keep saying ‘I’, but in reality, we all had a choice and we all made it and we are all bound together, not just by your magic, but also by our willpower. If that makes you stronger, so be it. I know it makes us stronger.”

  “What do you mean?” I cocked my head to the side.

  “Forty years ago, we were powerful, but our powers have increased since the binding. We all know it. We all feel it. Forty years ago, those Chimeras would have been a much bigger problem. Forty years ago, the Harpies would have been a bigger problem. We all seem to have become a sort of Vampire. We seem to feed off each other’s energy and strength. If we are all together and one of us feels weak, we c
an draw energy from the others. When you were pulling magic to force into the ground, we all felt it being drained from us. When Gabriel was lying in a pool of blood, we felt him drawing energy to get up and rejoin the fight without waiting to heal. For now, we are more than willing to pretend that the ‘magnificent’ power you are gaining is either Witch or Demon, but the truth is, I think it is the binding.”

  “Really? You think the binding spell is the cause of this nonsense?”

  “Yes, you said yourself, you have Witch magic that you don’t understand and we have all seen you channel Gabriel’s power. That’s pretty spectacular, but I don’t think it would have been in the least bit possible if we hadn’t already been bound. I felt it when you drew his power into you. I felt you release power when I kissed you earlier. The others obviously felt that power. I’m sure the others felt the channeling and I’m sure the others have had the same thoughts as me. Until the Maturing ends, let them think they have only one target. You say you have wrapped our fates with yours, but during the Maturing, it is possible that our immortality will be a huge asset to you. I believe it will make your mortality a little less mortal, so to speak. No, you won’t be able to sustain the damage you sustained before the Maturing or after it, but you will be able to handle more than the average Maturing Demon, because you can pull energy from us when you need it. I’m sure that energy extends to our life force.”

  “That was almost a convincing pep talk.”

  “It should have been convincing, I believe every word of it,” Gabriel said as he entered the room. “You forget that even in your enchanted and bespelled room, we can still hear you.”

  “And he is right,” Fenrir came in behind him. “Ani, I mean, we all picked this for ourselves. We may not have been completely aware of it at the time, but in hindsight, we did all choose it. I know when the spell was to be broken that some part of me did not want it to happen.”

  “Same with me,” Anubis nodded. “Some part of me, some part that I had never known existed told me that I didn’t want to break the spell.”

  “As did I.” Ba’al finally came in and shut the door. “The work men are gone. The house is repaired. It still needs work, but then, who cares when it is likely to be busted down again at a later time. We have been alone for nearly an hour now.”

  “Good to know,” I looked at them. “What made you think that you did not want the spell broken?”

  “You,” Gabriel answered. “When your mother explained to us what had happened, a little voice inside me said it was as it should be. Witch, Demon, it didn’t matter what you were or who your parents were, or who you might one day grow up to be. I knew that by tying my fate to yours, I would always be with you and there was just something about it that felt right.”

  “For me,” Ba’al started, “for me, there wasn’t a voice, just a thought. The thought was you could do much worse than spending eternity bound to Brenna. I never hesitated or flinched at the idea. Divine providence perhaps and then again, perhaps not. Perhaps it was just some frustrated part of me that felt the urge to be part of something again.”

  “Life was starting to get a bit tedious before you were born,” Fenrir added, touching Ba’al’s shoulder gently, “at least for me. When you bound us together, my first thought was, ‘this is going to be interesting.’ I wasn’t wrong. Like the rest, I never once thought about undoing the spell. Have never once thought about breaking it. I have never felt the need or desire to do so. I think your choices were interesting.”

  “How do you mean?” I asked.

  “Four Overlords, each damaged in their own way. Each of them somehow not suited for such a purpose, and yet, perfectly suited for it.” Fenrir shrugged. “It is complicated.”

  “No, I think I understand, even if it doesn’t entirely make sense to me now and even less so then.” I looked at each of them. “You are the four Overlords closest to my father. You each call to a part of my magic, whether it be Demon or Witch, I feel the pull. The Witch wants to break Ani’s curse and soothe Fenrir’s aggression. The Demon wants to heal Gabriel’s mind and Ba’al’s broken soul.”

  “My aggression?” Fenrir raised an eyebrow.

  “I can’t think of a better term for it, it isn’t hate, but it’s close. You hate yourself, hate the Wolf you become and loathe the Lycans as a whole. You look at them and see only Alex as a beacon of light and a shining spot in the darkness. You distrust them. You distrust yourself. I feel it coming from you, and I know that not all of it comes from within you; some of it is magical. If the magic can be broken, then the loathing would go away. It is why you rule the Lycans with an iron fist.”

  Fenrir stared at me for a very long time. The room was deathly silent. I waited for some shot to come or some rejection of the idea.

  “You’re right,” he finally admitted, “and there is magic involved. The entire Lycan population is cursed and we brought it down upon ourselves. And I do loathe that I am a Lycan. Only Alex remains untainted, probably because he was born after the War.”

  “You hold the Lycans responsible for the War?” Anubis asked with real surprise in his voice.

  “No,” Fenrir shook his head. “But it was only during the War that I realized how evil we could be in animal form. I remember the exact moment that I realized it. I was in wolf form and before, I had always had some sort of restraint, some sort of humility and mercy. During the War, I let go completely, let the animal have complete reign. I was tearing into another Lycan when it hit me that all responsible thought had gone from me. I was no longer both Lycan and wolf, only wolf. The animal had complete control, and he was just as vicious and mean as any of the beasts that we keep secreted away on the Island. I was too busy trying to fight to realize that a spell had been cast, and too far gone in animal instinct to realize that a Minotaur was possessing me. It was only afterwards that I found the remnants of the spell; it was still locked away in some dark part of my mind. Some Witch had cast it, cast a spell to strip away all the Lycans of their emotions. It only worked when they were in animal form, but that is when we are at our worst. Vishnu later had to help me with the Minotaur possession. A few hundred years after the War, I still didn’t feel like I had before. I had always chalked it up to being in battle and killing so many other Lycans. One night though, I was on the Island and felt it enter me again. I went to Vishnu that very night. It turned out that while in animal form, it was very easy for Minotaurs to take possession of a Lycan. We don’t have the ability to keep them out and we don’t have the ability to notice it. I don’t know how many times my mind had been possessed, but…”

  He shrugged.

  “Once you’ve been possessed multiple times, you wonder if you are just weak minded,” Anubis finished his thought.

  “Exactly. I stopped feeling like a whole being. I began to doubt my thoughts and my actions. Even more than that, I realized that if a Minotaur could possess me that easily, well, another Lycan would be a piece of cake.”

  “It’s hard to go through eternity doubting your own choices.” Gabriel closed his eyes.

  “Yes, more difficult than you can imagine. Now, I will only change when I know the others around me will notice. Usually that means I have to have a Witch or Djinn with me.”

  “Why a Witch?”

  “They notice the difference in thought patterns,” Fenrir told me. “While you can’t read minds, our emotions become seriously different, even in animal form. A Witch can feel the change. Since I have to do it every so often or have it happen spontaneously, I have been using Vishnu, Magnus, or your mother for years to keep me from suffering the invasion of a Minotaur. Now, I have you to help with the change. Even more significant though, is that with you, the spell that was cast and still lingers in my brain doesn’t seem to have enough power left when you are around. It seems to grow weaker and the change is different around you. I retain my ability to think as both a Lycan and a wolf.
”

  “But it isn’t a curse. Spells shouldn’t linger that long.” I told him.

  “Shouldn’t,” Anubis said, “is different than can’t. You will find some spells have the ability to linger for eons because of the power and emotions that back them. While it may not be a proper curse, it is still a curse none-the-less.”

  “That explains why I feel it is magical,” I said. “Would my spell book know how to break it?”

  “Since your spell book cast it,” Fenrir shook his head from side to side, “I’m sure he does. But he isn’t going to tell.”

  “My spell book cast it?”

  “Not directly,” Fenrir sighed. “You don’t realize how old the soul in that book really is. He is far older than you can imagine. He was in that book during the War. A Strachan cast the spell. Alistair Strachan to be exact.”

  “I didn’t know our line went back that far. We are Celts after all.”

  “Your line is roughly twelve thousand years old. Eli was the second Strachan Witch ever to exist. He was mean, cross, and cranky all the time.” Anubis looked at me. “Essentially, he was a bastard then and he remains a bastard now. He probably helped concoct the spell that Alistair casted.”

  “Good Lord, he hates Elders.” Ba’al whistled after he said it. “Has always hated Elders. It must kill him that his House eventually bred with an Elder.”

  “Not just any Elder, but Lucifer himself,” Fenrir smiled. “And now, his great whatever is bound to four Overlords that he hates almost as much as Lucifer. If he could find a way to flee the book, he probably would.”

  “Luckily for us, he can’t.” I told them. “His soul in that book is a curse. It would take massive amounts of magic to release it. Magic that even I don’t think I have in me. Magic that not all the Witches in the world may have together. I don’t know who cast the curse, but it was a doozy.”

  “Allegra Strachan cast the curse,” Anubis answered, “and she had a lot of help from Elders in doing so. The Elders made sure that as much magic as possible was poured into it. Dragon’s blood, Angel Wing, Demon Horn, we took clippings of just about everything on the planet to build that curse. We were taking magical bits from Chimeras, Dragons, Wyverns, Harpies, Minotaurs, Centaurs, Fey, Trolls, Gargoyles, and even made Kagutsuchi give up a bit of flesh for the thing. It’s a pretty strong damn spell. She killed herself casting it.”

  “Hell, I remember Lucifer, Morgana, Beezel, Levi, Anubis, Jonathan, and myself, tracking down Cerebus and cutting off one of his heads for the damn spell,” Ba’al smiled.

  “Cerebus?” Gabriel smiled. “You guys were not seeking out a hydra to get its head. I did that, along with most of my Gaggle, and Fenrir and his pack. Damn thing spit venom at us at least a million times, ruined several pieces of good armor and managed to eat a fucking Dragon Lycan.”

  “Of course, that’s how we got the head,” Fenrir grinned back. “Christoph came in handy that day. Changed while being swallowed and used his claws to cut off its head from the inside.”

  “Wow, you must have really hated Eli to go through all that.” I commented.

  “You have no idea. He’s mellowed significantly with age. I remember going to him with a request once. He tossed acid on me and set me on fire. When those didn’t do the damage he wanted, he started casting spell after spell after spell at me until I finally retreated,” Anubis told me. “Never did get the request filled.”

  “What was the request?” I asked.

  “I wanted to know if he would be willing to build a cursed box. We had a different Witch with a problem that needed trapped for eternity. In the end, we had to have Macaphee Iverson build the box and it broke after about four hundred years.”

  “That was a debacle.” Ba’al rolled his eyes. “Stupid git couldn’t figure out a curse from a spell and when the spell wore off, the soul was set free, and no, it didn’t go to heaven. It stayed right here on Earth, tormenting us all.”

  Magnus was of the Iverson Witches. I smiled at that. It was interesting to know.

  “Who was the other Witch?” I asked.

  “I was,” my dresser spoke up. “It wasn’t really Elders that were the problem though. They have always been so much fun. Humans on the other hand, suck.”

  I raised an eyebrow at my dresser.

  “Don’t give me that look, young lady.” It responded. “Shit happens. I was a prick and I was a bit lost in the pre-history times. It’s hard to be Celtic and gay and a Witch. Not to mention dealing with the psycho Druids to our south. So, I did the only thing I could think to do at the time and blew up a village killing most of the Druids.”

  “That was the best you could come up with?” I asked doubtfully.

  “I was twenty, repressed, and distressed. Cut me a break.”

  “Okay, I’ll give you that,” I answered.

  “You have the soul of Beowulf Strachan in your dresser?” Anubis frowned at me.

  “I don’t know who he is, I just know he’s a soul, he lives in my dresser, and he’s coming to live with me at the condo so that I don’t have to pick out my own clothing anymore.”

  “Grimelda Iverson here,” my toy box spoke up.

  “Henri Du Champs in the desk.” The desk gave his name.

  “Wow, not only is all of your furniture inhabited, it is all inhabited by Witches.” Ba’al shook his head slowly a few times.

  “Hm, I never realized.”

  “My name is not who I am now,” Grimelda said. “It is who I once was. Now, I’m just a soul.”

  “You don’t sound upset about it,” Ba’al responded.

  “Why be upset?” The desk answered. “Do you know what happens to Witch souls when their bodies die? They just go on and on existing. Our own crappy form of immortality. There is no afterlife for us, just existence on a plane that is filled with the souls of other Witches, and frankly, they bitch a lot.”

  “Oh, my God,” the dresser said in his most flaming voice. “Feuds that should have died with the body continue well into the afterlife for us. Only, since we don’t have a corporeal form, all we can do is complain and yell at one another. Much better to inhabit a piece of furniture in a house.”

  “Particularly this house. There is rarely a dull moment,” Grimelda told us. “You have no idea all the interesting and exciting things that go on here. And Brenna, regardless of whether she knew it or not, pulled souls together that was not bickering ninnies. We get along just fine.”

  “It will be sad to see Beowulf go,” the desk admitted. “But onto bigger and better things. Besides, he has always loved dressing Brenna.”

  “She has amazing skin,” the dresser said.

  “Well, this conversation isn’t bizarre at all,” Anubis frowned.

  “I grew up with this. I still occasionally do it to my own furniture at home,” I told him. “Usually when I’m having nightmares.”

  “Wait, do I have to deal with Eli?” The dresser suddenly asked.

  “No, he gets kept in a cursed box so that I can’t hear him shouting out vulgar names for me or my friends.” I told him.

  “Oh good. I didn’t like him when he was alive, it didn’t matter that he was my father. He’s a jerk of the first order.”

  “You were going to have Eli build a box to trap the soul of his son in?” I frowned.

  “Eli killed me,” Beowulf chimed. “If he had not been so vehemently against the idea of having a Vampire in his house, he probably would have relished building the box.”

  “Why trap his soul for eternity?” I asked with eyebrows raised.

  “Well, we retain a little magic after death and I needed a cooling down phase. If that box had only lasted twenty or thirty years, it probably would have been very bad. But after four hundred years, I realized that Humans just generally suck and it was all good from that point on.”

  “Well, okie dokie then.” I was still frowning. “Do you guys have anyth
ing to add to our little conversation about my power from earlier?”

  “Yes, stop being a ninny,” Grimelda responded. “Do you know what I would have given to be the second most powerful Witch in the world?”

  “Or I,” the desk answered.

  “Since I was once first, I understand your fear, but I also agree that you should suck it up. So you have some power, big deal, use it for good and the world will keep moving right along. I am very impressed with the Overlord binding. No one has ever been able to do that and many have tried.”

  “I didn’t think…”

  “No, we said there had only been one success. We didn’t mention the plethora of catastrophic failures,” Anubis interrupted.

  “It’s the Strachan magic,” Beowulf told us. “All the other failures have come from the other Great Houses, only the Strachan magic has successfully pulled it off. My guess is that Strachan magic, because it’s untamed, is more willing to accept magic from Elders, and therefore, more willing to accept being bound to them. It meshes with the magic because it draws from the beings involved. And of course, we’re Strachan’s. Until about five hundred years ago, the Council seat was always sat upon by a Strachan.”

  “What happened five hundred years ago to change that?” I asked.

  “Oh, one of the Strachan’s imploded at the table,” Beowulf responded. “Nasty, messy business. They were up to no good anyway, trying to siphon power from the Overlords during the meeting to do bad things, and well, they siphoned too much, ended up exploding. That was sort of the downfall of the house of Strachan. After that, they began refusing the seat and then sometime during the 1700s, the Lindemann Great House churned out the most powerful Witch on the planet. Then the Lindemann’s damn near died out because of breeding issues and the Iversons came to power. They’ve held the seat for nearly 100 years. I imagine though, with the death of Magnus that the Strachan’s will take it back. Although, I’m not sure by whom, since the next three Witches in line for it would be you, your mother, and your brother, Daniel. Seems like a conflict of interest there, but your mother has relatives and one of them may produce another first Witch.”

  “And if they don’t?” Anubis asked.

  “Then the fifth would be the Azaira House, a young lady by the name of Gisella.”

  “That would work,” I had met a couple of Witches from Azaira and they were nice enough.

  “Daniel’s a True Prophet, he won’t occupy the seat.” I told Beowulf.

  “I know, but he is next after your mother in the power department. However, I’m not sure whether his magic is more tame or untame.”

  “It’s in equal balance because of the Prophet status,” Grimelda answered. “For some reason that has made it so that he has a perfect balance of both.”

  “Makes sense,” Anubis said to no one.

  “I’m tired again,” I announced, ending the conversation and history lessons.

  “You are still healing,” Ba’al told me. “It’s only natural that you are tired again. We are considering bringing in a Demon Healer to see if we can speed up your recovery, but we can’t agree on whether it’s a good idea or bad idea.”

  “Probably bad,” I told them. “We don’t know what I am doing or capable of doing. Best not to force magic into my body.”

  “That was my thought,” Ba’al nodded. “But it would be worse to be attacked with you in this state. So…”

  “Flip a coin,” I told him, “heads, you bring in a Demon, tails, I heal naturally.”

  “You want us to decide based on a coin flip?” Ba’al eyed me skeptically.

  “It’s already a coin flip. I stay like this and I’m useless in battle and more likely to get killed. You heal me and I do something drastic with the magic, but I’m ready for a fight.”

  “Logical,” Anubis frowned, “and yet, illogical. I’m not sure how you manage to do both.”

  “Fine, I’ll flip the coin,” I fished a penny from my pocket and tossed it into the air. It landed on the bed, heads up. “Call Levi.”

  “You want Leviathan to heal you? Why not John?”

  “Because, Levi will be more adept at understanding when enough becomes too much.” I told him. “Plus, Levi won’t hold it against me if I do something drastic with the magic. John might.”

  “Okay, Levi it is.”