Chapter 710: Faking Normal
I sat, knees jiggling, as the gathering of conclave attendees settled into their seats, chattering and smiling, laughing and talking around me. Clueless. While my stomach flip-flopped like a suffocating fish.
Shenka squeezed my hand, even her practiced smile tight around the edges.
Sassafras crouched in my lap, ears down, whiskers sagging.
Of course I told them. As soon as I walked through the door into our little quarters the night before, the pair of them pounced on me, demanding to know what happened.
I almost forgot the wild magicks, now burrowed under my clothing, hiding, their sorrow infectious as I filled the pair in on the latest disaster. Sassafras's soft moan joined Shenka's gasp of horror, the Persian slinking into my lap to press his face against my stomach as his grief shuddered through him.
"He killed them?" Shenka's eyes flooded with tears, dark skin shining with tracks of moisture as she let them fall, unheeded.
The Lawrence twins came to sit silently on one of the low couches, listening, absorbing, hugging each other as I finished the story.
Shenka stood, began to pace. She'd clearly adopted my favorite past time when agitated. "Miriam is right," she said. "We have to end conclave."
But Estelle shook her head. "No," she said. "We must do what we came to do."
"The stronghold can wait," I said. "And as tragic as the loss of those Enforcers is, we have to try to stay logical about this."
Me? Logical? Maybe I'd finally snapped. Lost my heart or something. Because I couldn't bring myself to feel anything past numb.
None of us slept much and, though I was used to going a few nights without rest, my immortality making it easy for me, the rest of my party wasn't so lucky.
Silent and grim, the twins chose to eat breakfast in the pavilion, but I insisted Shenka and Sassafras come with me.
And pretend at normal. Because, that was what Mom needed us to do.
I hadn't heard a word from Piers, and any attempt to connect with my mother was blocked. She had to be working, focused. Still, I could have helped.
Right. By alternating between moping in stunned unfeeling and thrashing around in fury.
Deluded much?
At least I had Shenka and Sass to lean on, to keep me focused. It felt so wrong to have the rest of the conclave carry on as though nothing happened. Because, to them, nothing had. Meira's grim nod to me as she took her seat, paired with the equally dark looks of her entourage, told me she'd filled them in on last night's events.
The Steam Union contingent, still minus Piers, looked equally as out of sorts, though to be honest, Eva never did show much emotion, so I hoped her attitude wouldn't be seen as unusual.
Sunny and Uncle Frank were naturally absent, but Chambrelle's nod to me, soft tilt of her head, told me they'd informed her of the pertinent details.
Only Mom looked calm, politely cheerful, as she took her seat at the head of the Council's box just as the carol of trumpets announced the opening of the second day of conclave.
Margaret Applegate's grinning triumph registered right on time. I held my breath, hating what was coming next.
Wishing Mom would speak first. Pissed she insisted on allowing Applegate to out what happened last night.
It was our final decision, made together, though I still thought it was a terrible idea.
"If we appeal to the conclave in a position of weakness," Mom said, "we only give the Brotherhood an opportunity to show us as weak. But if Applegate brings it up, I'm hoping we can, instead, appear to be dealing with it instead of desperate."
Everyone nodded, thought it was a great way to go.
"Mom," I said. "That's a lot of hoping."
"Regardless how it comes out," Mom said, hands on my shoulders, face close to mine, "it's coming out, Syd. We might as well see what the Brotherhood might reveal through their delight at our loss rather than try to put a cork in something that's already happened."
Grumble. Mumble. Sigh.
***
"I've received word," Applegate said, bringing me back to the frustration of the present, voice carrying through her magic, "there was an attack on the Enforcer stronghold last night." The entire gathering fell deathly silent as Mom's pleasant smile remained intact.
She didn't comment, nod her head, anything but keep that smile firmly fixed on her face.
Applegate went on.
"Is it true?" All innocence and fake concern. She turned to Mom with a little moue of shock. "Did the Brotherhood kill your Enforcers and take control of the stronghold?"
I'd never heard a gasp that loud before, as though each and every person in attendance drew a breath at once. The sides of the tent swayed from the change in air pressure as the focus turned to Mom and crushed down on her like the weight of the entire world.
Mom did nod at last, hands still and silent in her lap as she acknowledged the fear pushing against her. "It is true," she said. "For now."
The sigh following stirred the gathered magicks, woke the wild ones still hovering against my skin as though needing my warmth and presence to ease their pain.
"I see." Margaret frowned, turned to the gathering. "And she claims she is able to keep all of us safe. When she can't even protect her own territory."
Bitch. Bitchy bitchass mother witch of a bitchbag.
Before Mom could say anything, as the gathered magic users absorbed what Margaret said, she smiled. Beamed. Raised both hands.
"Fear not," she said. "For there is another explanation for all of this."
Mom's eyes locked on mine.
Syd, she sent. I think I know where this is going at last.
Then she was way the hell ahead of me.
Do not, she sent, under any circumstances, react. Do you hear me? Just trust this is necessary. And will hopefully show us what the Brotherhood is after here at conclave.
There was her "hopefully" again.
Wait. React? To what?
I had my answer a heartbeat later as a gaping black hole opened in the middle of the empty center of the pavilion.
And Liander Belaisle strode through.
Choke. Gasp. Snarl.
Syd. Mom's power slammed against me, pinning me to the back of the bench as my egos fought each other for the right to kill his arrogant ass. He's not here.
He. Was. Right. There.
But no. No, Mom nailed it. An illusion stood before us, a projection he sent through the unnatural gash he'd made in the veil.
Coward didn't even come himself.
Fear pulsed through the crowd, but no one moved. Not while he smiled up at Margaret, then turned in a slow circle, his projection spinning until he bowed to Mom.
"Allow me to introduce myself," he said.
"I know very well who you are," Mom said.
"Of course you do." He turned, met my eyes. "Ah, Sydlynn. Delightful."
Just let me go after him, my demon hissed. In and out, Entrails 'R Us.
"I'm afraid you've been misinformed," he said to the gathering as though not needing me to acknowledge his greeting. "As usual, my people are vilified, stories told out of turn by a handful of vindictive witches."
My stomach cramped as my demon roared and surged against the confines of Mom's magic.
Remember, she sent. To most of the witches here, the Brotherhood are just a dark sect of sorcerers, more a myth than reality in their closed-off lives, not the enemy we've come to despise. Only we have had real contact with them and understand the impact they have on our planes.
Us. And Applegate.
"As it turns out," he went on, "we're not so bad." He ran both hands down the front of his double-breasted suit coat, flashing another smile. "We just want to get along." Tell me the conclave wasn't buying this slick delivery? "And the accusation of our 'attack' is unfounded. As I can explain, if permitted?"
No one argued. I think partly because, if my allies were like me, they couldn't muster a word to say.
Belaisle took the quiet for acceptance. "To do so," he said, "will take a proper address of your fine conclave." His smile turned down to an artful frown. "I can't tell you how hurt I was to be overlooked for an invitation to this lovely get together."
Mom's power retreated. Okay, she sent. Kill his ass. Make it look like an accident.
Too late, and we both knew it.
Margaret gestured to the gathered leaders. "The circumstances of Master Belaisle's arrival may be unusual," she said. "But we have allowed other races and magical powers to attend our conclave. Would it be right to exclude the Brotherhood?"
A vote. All righty then. He'd have his ass kicked and I could go after him.
Alone.
And screw the prophecy.
Panic set in as hands rose to contest it. Meira, of course. Chambrelle for Sunny. Oleksander with a nasty expression on his face. Mom. And Odhran.
Not enough. Damn it, what the hell?
Was Mom really right about the witches?
"And all in favor?" Margaret's sickening smile told me what I already knew as hands shot up.
Every Council but Mom's. Aoilainn, I'm sure just to piss off her Unseelie cohorts. And, to my utter shock, Eva Southway.
Belaisle's smile widened, cream and cats coming to mind. "Your faith in me is appreciated," he said. "My party will arrive presently." He turned and bowed his head to Margaret who returned the gesture before he vanished through the black hole.
Which remained, gaping emptiness taunting me.
Maybe this was a good thing. If he was here in person, I could slice and dice without having to chase him down.
Mom, I sent. Haven't you warned them about the Brotherhood? What the hell had she been up to all these months?
Of course I tried, Mom sent, her exasperation coming through. Boy, was it. Might as well beat a brick wall with a soggy noodle for all they listened.
I'd beat them, all right.
If it doesn't impact their little circles of influence, they bury their heads in the sand and sing nonsense until you go away. Her anger dissipated, turning to disappointment. We've become so afraid of being noticed, of being discovered, taught so well to hide who we are as a race, we witches no longer can see trouble even when it's delivered to us in a hand-wrapped package.
My knee bounced so hard the heel of my foot hurt from the impact.
We have to do something. Warn them again.
I wish it were that simple, Mom sent. I fear our need to go unnoticed is our greatest weakness.
Maybe I could change that. Peel away Belaisle's skin so the gathered witches could see just what he was made of.
Figuratively. Of course. The real skinning would come later, in private, where my demon could enjoy herself without being interrupted by people screaming and throwing up.
Wouldn't you know, Margaret thought of everything?
"Only one matter to bring up before our Brotherhood friends join us." Applegate jabbed a finger in my direction. "It is very well known Sydlynn Hayle has a grudge against the Brotherhood in general, Liander Belaisle in particular." From the bemused looks on the gathered witch's faces, it was no such thing. Mom was right. Clue. Less. Applegate went on anyway. "It is my belief his life will be in danger if she is allowed access to him while he attends conclave."
You bet your booties, lady.
I choked on fury while she cornered me as neatly as Mom did the werewolves the day before. "Since there is precedent set," she said, "I order she be held responsible for his safety during the course of this conclave and, should anything happen to him or his people, she be held to the fullest extent of our laws."
"Considering you don't preside over this conclave," Mom said, voice dry and heavy, "your order is denied."
I could feel the argument coming, but was forced to sit there with my mouth shut.
Or blurt something unfortunate.
"We don't want our guest to feel unwelcome or in danger," Margaret said, changing tactics. "Knowing Coven Leader Hayle's power, she is the only logical one at present to ensure Liander's safety."
While the other Council Leaders balked at Margaret's heavy-handedness, they softened to this argument. Which made me grit my teeth in frustration.
Damned witches were all the same.
Mom's power scorched the edges of mine, but in anger at the situation, not at me.
"Very well," she said. I'm sorry, Syd, she sent.
Don't be, I sent back, mind churning over the possibilities. At least this way we'll have him where we want him when the time comes.
Mom's power withdrew as her lips curved into the barest smile.
I had a feeling I'd have help stripping his skin from his body one tiny piece at a time.
***
