The Mage in Black

“This is my assistant, Damara,” Rhea said. “I hope you don’t mind if she assists me in administering the vision quest.”



I forced a smile at the girl. “Not at all. Hi, Damara.”



The assistant ignored my outstretched hand. Instead, she asked Rhea, “Shall we get going?”



I shrugged off her dismissal. She was young and, judging from her slouched posture and all-black ensemble, was probably in the throes of some sort of teen-rebellion phase.



“Shotgun!” Giguhl called. He’d insisted on joining us on this little expedition. I’d considered refusing but figured he’d get in less trouble if I kept him close.



I grabbed his arm before he could leap for the car. “You’re in the back. We’ll let Rhea or Maisie sit up front.”



“I’m fine with the back,” Maisie said. “Giguhl can sit between us.”



And that’s how I ended up crammed in the backseat with my demon and my sister. It could have been worse, though, I mused. At least Giguhl had the bitch seat.



We’d been on the road for forty-five minutes already. New York’s concrete and steel had given way to trees and open sky. I tilted my head and looked at the moon. A shadow passed over the pale crescent. Wings. Looked like Stryx had arrived just in time for the festivities.



“Sabina?” Maisie said, peering around Giguhl’s huge green head, “I’m sorry if Orpheus was abrupt earlier.”



I shifted in the seat to look at her. “What’s his deal, anyway? I thought you were the leader of the council.”



“Technically I am. But I’m really only a figurehead. In ancient times, a spiritual class ruled mages, but over time, we transitioned to a democracy. So the council is elected, but my position passes on through our bloodline. My role is more spiritual and diplomatic. Orpheus really runs things. It’s kind of like the Queen of England and the prime minister.”



“Gotcha,” I said. “That explains why he’s so worried about relations between all the races, then.”



“Yes, exactly. I’m sorry you have to fight the duel, but I’m afraid there’s no way around it.”



“Duel?” Giguhl said, perking up.



“I’ll tell you later.” Orpheus’s heavy-handedness had annoyed me, but the truth was, I kind of looked forward to the duel now. All this magic stuff made me feel like I was in over my head. But fighting? Now, that was something I felt comfortable doing.



“Why is the estate way out here?” I asked to change the subject.



Rhea turned in her seat to look at me. “The Hekate Council prefers the security for our sacred rituals. It’s harder to control the environment in the city. We also enjoy the space the estate afford us, and of course there’s the Sacred Grove. There’s a ley line running under the spot.”



“Ley line?” Giguhl asked. I was glad he asked instead of me. The term sounded familiar, but the fact I couldn’t remember what it was served as yet another reminder of my utter ignorance when it came to magical stuff.



“They’re like rivers of concentrated magical energy running through the earth,” Maisie said. “They add power to all our rituals and spells.”



“Anyway,” Rhea continued. “The other reason we like it out here is a lot of mages live in Sleepy Hollow. The chaotic energy of the city is too much for many of our kind. The local humans think these mages are just humans with pagan beliefs, and everyone gets along. It’s nice.”



Soon, the headlights glared off a set of large gates in the middle of the road. The two sides met to form an iron Hekate’s Wheel similar to the one at the Prytania Place, only bigger. Underneath the symbol, letters spelled out the name of the estate.



“Crossroads?” I read aloud.



“Hekate is the goddess of the crossroads,” Maisie explained. “Among other things.”



The area tingled with magical wards. I also noted several mundane security measures like the ones Adam pointed out the night before at Prytania Place.



“This reminds me of the Adamantine Gate in Irkalla,” Giguhl said, looking around. “The only thing it’s missing is that bitch Cerberus.”



I looked over my shoulder. “Wait, the three-headed dog is female?”



“Duh, yeah. She’s got a serious case of eternal PMS, too.”



“Good to know.”



A long dirt road cut through heavy woods for another mile before the house appeared like an apparition through the leaves. The building was a collection of stone towers, balconies, and elaborate geometric designs done in terra-cotta and ochre. My eyes moved restlessly over the facade, trying to digest the colorful mosaic of architectural styles—Moorish, Victorian, Gothic, with a dash of the Prairie School here and there. I’d never seen anything like it, and I certainly hadn’t expected such an odd headquarters for the Hekate Council. Back in California, the Dominae’s compound was a stately Mediterranean style mansion. But this reminded me of something out of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves or the Brothers Grimm.



Damara pulled the car to a stop in front of the steps leading to a wide archway. I got out and took stock. The house was imposing up close, like the fairy-tale fortress of an eccentric wizard.



Rhea clapped her hands and rubbed them together. “Allrighty, then. Who’s ready for a vision quest?”



8



The nausea hit almost immediately. I curled up into the fetal position on a pile of dead leaves. Cold sweat blossomed on my back and forehead.



“Easy. Don’t fight it. It will pass soon,” Rhea said, mopping my face with a cool, damp cloth.



Hunching over, I retched as my stomach emptied on the roots of an ancient oak. Between heaves, I cursed Rhea in colorful language. She just rubbed my back and said nothing.



When no bile was left to toss, I fell onto my back, my eyes clenched tight.



My stomach gurgled. “If I shit my pants, I’m gonna kill you.”



I rolled onto my side. My head swam like another bout of cookie tossing was imminent. I lay very still and breathed through my nose until it passed.



Freakin’ Maisie with her “It’s relatively painless.” When the world was done spinning, I was going to kick her understatement-making ass.



“I hate everyone right now.”



Rhea chuckled softly. “I know. It will pass soon and the visions will begin.”



I swallowed and nodded. Given the experience so far, I wasn’t looking forward to the vision portion. Rhea assured me the visions would give us clues about my magical path. From the looks of things so far, the path would be covered in puke.



Earlier, when Rhea led me into the oak grove, torches burned around the perimeter of the clearing, casting orange light and shadows on Rhea’s face. My steps faltered when I saw the stone altar at the center. Rhea urged me forward with a hand at my back.



Energy thrummed through me as I approached. With each step, the intensity grew. I glanced back at Maisie, who nodded encouragingly. Giguhl gave me a thumbs-up and then joined Damara near the entrance of the grove. I took a deep breath and steeled my resolve.



Part of me wondered why I continued to put myself through these weird—and nauseating—mage rituals. But the truth was, I was willing to do just about anything that would infuriate my grandmother. She hated mages more than just about anything in the world. Nothing would piss her off more than finding out I’d gone to the dark side, so to speak. Maybe it wasn’t rational, but I also liked the idea of being able to zap the shit out of her the next time we met. And if going through this crazy vision-quest thingy helped me learn those skills, I’d do it.



Given the solemn atmosphere, I was surprised to see Rhea pull a red thermos from a backpack at her feet. Without much pomp or circumstance, she poured the tea into the little plastic cup. “Bottoms up.”



I took an experimental sniff. “It smells like ass.”



Rhea nodded. “Yep. Drink up now.” She placed a hand under the cup to guide it to my lips.



What the hell? Might as well get this over with. The first sip nearly made me gag. When she’d first mentioned tea, I’d been expecting something like Earl Grey or Lemon Zinger. Instead, the liquid tasted oily and bitter—like evil.



“What the hell is in this?”



“Ayahuasca.”



“Aja-what-a?”



She repeated it slowly. “It means ‘spirit root.’ It’s only found in the Amazon. Shamans there use it to induce visions and gain insight. The brew contains other ingredients, but if I told you I’d have to kill you,” she joked lamely.



I couldn’t help but wonder if the tea would kill me before I’d have a chance to make her tell me.



“Now,” she continued, “chug-a-lug.”



“You’ve got to be kidding. I’ll puke.”



She muttered something under her breath that sounded like “If you only knew.” Louder, she said, “Stop being a baby. The faster you drink it, the less you’ll notice the taste.”



I looked at her skeptically. Then I shrugged and gulped down the rest of the vile potion. Gasping for breath, I tossed down the cup and glared at Rhea.



“See? Not so bad, was—”



She probably continued her thought, but I was suddenly too busy being doubled over as the first tidal wave of nausea hit.



Thirty minutes of torture had passed, but now things seemed to be calming down. Before, even a slight breeze made me turn green, but now I could actually open my eyes without wishing for the sweet release of death.



“Better?” Rhea asked, leaning over me.



Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded slowly, staring up at the shadowed leaves above. A crisp breeze swooped through the clearing. Leaves danced on the wind like autumn’s confetti.



“Odd,” I said. As the leaves swirled and dipped, they left colorful light tracers in their wake.



“What is it?”



“Those leaves.” I lifted a heavy hand to point, but it dropped back to the ground.



“What about them?”



“Pretty.” My body felt heavy, as if I’d become rooted in the soil. The ley line buzzed in my ears, calling to me.