The Curse Of Dark Root: Part One Part 19

"I'm thinking of moving here. For good."

I nearly spit out the water.

"I was deluding myself these last few years, thinking G.o.d was talking to me."

I appraised him with narrowed eyes. "Why are you telling me this?"

"You deserved better. I couldn't give it to you then, but I can start to make up for it now."

"Michael..."

"Let me finish." He reached out, stopping me. "I found a house for sale about five miles outside of town. I can be close for you and the baby."

I scanned the outline of the door on the far wall. "I forgave you, Michael. I'm older and wiser and I realize people make mistakes. You don't have to lose your faith or move here to make things right."

"I haven't lost my faith, just my egocentric view that I'm somehow special because I have these..." He looked at his lifted hands, then sighed. "As for moving here, it's the logical thing to do. You won't have to be saddled by a baby all of the time, a.s.suming you..."

His jaw tightened and he gripped the handrails of the chair.

"a.s.suming I survive whatever plague has been put on me?"

"A fair a.s.sessment."

"And if I don't? What if neither me nor the baby survives?"

"Don't say that."

"We have no idea what I'm dealing with."

"Then I'll be close to where you've spent your life."

"You're pathetic," I joked.

He drummed his fingers across the arm rail, nodding to himself. "I've just rediscovered my priorities." He stood and refilled my water from a pitcher on the dresser, handing me the cup. "Now, drink up and get back to sleep."

"But sleep is boring," I yawned. "And I've been doing too much of it."

He touched my head. "But necessary. Your fever is gone for the time being, thanks to those kitchen witches. Want your next globe?"

I gave him a quizzical look. Did he hear Aunt Dora and Jillian talking?

He removed the next globe, holding it out to me. I didn't want to see any more of the past. It was confusing and wasn't helping me at all. Besides, I was beginning to see Armandmy fatheras a real person. Demonizing him was easier when I didn't know his history.

And what I really wantedand what I couldn't saywas for Shane to come to me in my dreams. But even without the globe, I didn't think it would happen. Whenever I tuned into his energy, I came up against a blank wall.

I extended my hand. "Might as well."

"To be clear, you know I don't approve of this."

"Then why are you giving it to me?"

"If Dora and Jillian think this is going to help you, I'm willing to try, too." He handed it over and I felt the power of its magic in my hands.

"I'll be in the rocking chair," he said. "All night."

"Thank you," I said, meaning it.

I gave the globe a little shake and watched the snowflakes swirl, wondering what waited for me in this next stored memory.

The snowflakes gradually settled to the bottom bringing my eyelids with them.

A man I recognized as Joe Garris, Shane's dead uncle, took form.

SEVENTEEN.

The Times They Are A Changing Dark Root, Oregon March, 1970 Joe Garris' Home "I tell you, it isn't fair!" Joe Garris marched across his library, his heavy steps bending the fibers of the s.h.a.g carpeting in one direction, only to be bent back on his return trip. Armand watched him from the corner of the room, only half-interested as he stole sips of brandy straight from the bar decanter and rummaged through a stack of arcane books on the occult.

Joe's face grew redder with every step, until he finally stopped in the center of the room and threw his hands into the air.

"Sasha, you said we'd be protected here!"

Sasha continued her needlepoint as she sat primly on the swivel club chair, twisting the seat back and forth to keep up with Joe's frenzied march. Finally, she spoke. "I said you would be protected here, Joe, not your... ahem, business a.s.sociate."

Joe squeezed his fists together, hammering them into the sides of his thighs. "Leonard is my family, Sasha. We came here together, live together, and opened Delilah's Deli together. If you can't offer us suitable protection, we will go somewhere that can."

"Like Canada?" A dimple punctured her cheek, just as her needle punctured her cloth.

"Canada, yes. Or a cave if we have to. I've been working on a spell that can hide a man in the apartment above my diner for forty years if it comes to that."

"Forty years? Whatever will you do with him then?"

Joe's face turned one shade redder. "Forty years hidden is better than one minute dead." He dabbed at his face with the corner of the handkerchief he kept in his blazer pocket. "I'm looking to you, Sasha. You're Council Leader."

Sasha lifted her shoulders and let them drop. Her sepia hair matched her sepia dress, though the dress was not yet showing any threads of gray. "Joe, you should've been more honest with me and told me how young he was. Then, perhaps, I could have done something."

"To h.e.l.l with age!" Joe's fists crashed down on one of the many shelves that made up his ma.s.sive library. Several books fell over. Uncharacteristically, Joe did not return them to their proper positions. He sucked in a deep breath, releasing it through his nose.

"Age doesn't mean anything here, Sasha. You know that. Not with your..." He wiggled a finger in the air.

"My wand is of no consequence in this matter." Sasha gathered up her voluminous skirt as she stood. "And you know as well as I do that the wand is for healing."

"Healing? Is that what you call it?"

She lowered her fake eyelashes, fluttering them several times. "Aging is a disease, and the wand can reverse its effects. But that would only make Leonard younger, not older, and I doubt that would help."

"I'd turn him into a G.o.dd.a.m.ned baby before I let him be s.h.i.+pped off to Vietnam!"

Armand looked up from the astrology book and regarded the two. Though Sasha and Joe were old friends and p.r.o.ne to arguments, there was something different about this one. Their auras crackled around them as if either could explode at any moment.

Joe raised his eyebrows, even as he continued to look down. "He can't go to war. He's been too sheltered. Sasha, he's all I've got."

There was a long, uncomfortable silence as the two faced off.

Armand raised the book in his hand. "Says here Scorpios are secretive." He shook his head and smiled. "You think I'm secretive?" When they both turned angry eyes on him, he added, "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt."

"It's quite alright," Sasha said coolly. "You are on The Council, Armand. You should be involved in this, too." She strode across the length of the library, her chin high and her eyes intent. "It seems Leonard's birthdate has been called. He is up for draft."

"Ah, h.e.l.l," Armand said, pretending he was just tuning in. "Tough break, man." Then, turning to Sasha, "I thought we were protected in Dark Root."

"I thought so too," Joe said. "At least that's what your girlfriend told me when she convinced me to move here."

"As I've been reminded many times, she's not my girlfriend. She's my teacher."

"We are The Council," Sasha interrupted. "We are protected. But Leonard is no warlock. Therefore, he is not immune."

"He could be," Armand said. "There's books all over this place on working with Magick. That must mean it's not always an innate trait, right?"

Sasha put a finger to her chin. "Well, right, but..."

"But nothing!" Joe said. "We'll train him and put him on The Council, too. I'll teach him myself. That's what you brought me on for, wasn't it? To be a teacher?"

Sasha lit a cigarette. She took a long drag then released it from the side of her mouth. "I brought you on to train those who already had promise. We are building the next generation here, those who will hold back the Dark after we are gone." She waved her cigarette theatrically in the air. "We can't be wasting our time and abilities on the untalented."

"He's smart," Joe said. "And he's been watching me. He'll catch on." His lined face softened. "Sasha, he's only twenty-two. That's too young to die."

The clock ticked loudly, as if it were a heartbeat reckoning whether or not it should continue to beat. At last, Sasha lifted her chin, resolve pasted on her face even as her white-yellow aura flickered uncertainly. "Not everyone who goes to Vietnam dies. We can send him off with a protection amulet. I will fas.h.i.+on it myself."

"d.a.m.n it! For all your talk of taking care of humanity, you have little regard for the actual person." Joe flung himself into a high-backed chair and thrust his face into his hands.

Armand stood, addressing Sasha. "Three of my friends in L.A. were drafted. Two of them are dead now. Leonard's going to need more than an amulet to survive a land mine."

Joe looked up, his face the color of ash.

Sasha blinked several times, her head swiveling between Joe and Armand. Looking upwards at the popcorn-textured ceiling, she exhaled the last of her cigarette, then stamped the b.u.t.t into a crystal ashtray.

"I suppose there is something we can do."

"There is?" Joe's eyes widened.

"We will put up an additional dome that will block the 'real' world from receiving signals from us, rendering us basically untraceable."

She marched across the library, her stiff skirts swis.h.i.+ng as she moved. She scanned the contents of a shelf, her fingers finally settling on a thick, leather-bound tome. "We need seven to do this," she said. "With us three, plus Dora and Larinda, we only have five."

"Leonard can help," Joe said. "I'll have him ready before the next full moon."

"Very well." Sasha looked to Armand. "You'll have to pull more than your weight of the masculine energy needed for this spell, for obvious reasons."

"I always do."

Sasha stared out the window that overlooked the burgeoning town. Armand joined her. Houses were popping up in Dark Root, half a dozen this year. The town had nearly tripled in size since Armand had arrived. Most were entrepreneurs who wanted to get a piece of the re-emerging town.

"We still need one more," she said.

"There's Rosa," Armand suggested.

"She is too old."

"But we already use Harvest Home for some of our meetings," Joe quickly added. "And she has the gift of second sight, even if it's not always accurate."

"I'd say." Sasha patted her hair, which was done up in a loose bun. "She said this war would be over by now. My houseplant could have made a better prediction." Sighing deeply, she tapped her fingers against the window pane. "Very well. Rosa will receive an invitation to join The Council. She knew Mother and I'm sure Juliana would be pleased. I will have to use my wand on her."

"Yes," Joe agreed, nodding eagerly.

Upstairs, there was a shuffling noise which Armand guessed to be Leonard himself, getting ready for bed.

"I don't have to tell you that I'm a proud man, Sasha," Joe continued. "I don't say thank you very often, but..."

Sasha waved her hand dismissively. "Thank me when it works. Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, I'm going home. I feel a headache coming on."

"I've got a cure for that." Armand winked but Sasha ignored him and left the two men in Joe's library.

"Sasha must really care for you," Armand said, feeling a hint of unfounded jealousy. "It's unlike her to cave."

Joe gave Armand a grateful smile before his eyes suddenly widened. "You have the ankh?"

Armand looked down and realized the pendant had accidentally untucked from inside his s.h.i.+rt. He clasped the ankh and quickly slipped it back inside his s.h.i.+rt. He had been foolish to put it on so brazenly, but after finally getting it that very morning he hadn't been able to resist wearing it. He'd do a better job of hiding it from here on out.

"Um, yes. A gift from Sasha. But don't say anything, man. She asked me to keep it on the down-low."

Joe glanced around the room, listening to confirm that they were alone. Satisfied, he leaned in closer. "Sasha's a good woman, but deep down, she doesn't give a d.a.m.n about you or me or Leonard. She may offer you gifts but remember, it's her precious cause that drives her. Not l.u.s.t. Not love. Not friends.h.i.+p. As long as you're aware of that, you'll be okay."

"Got it, man, and thanks." Armand gathered his cowboy hat to leave. When Joe turned away, Armand pocketed the book on Astrology, and s.n.a.t.c.hed one on demon summoning and time-travel as well, tucking them into the inner pockets of his trench coat.

Once outside, he felt the cool night air on his face.

Joe was wrong about Sasha. She did care. Maybe she didn't love him, but she could never love anyone.

He touched the pendant once more, feeling its immeasurable power as he made his way back to Sister House through the dark.

He had stayed the two years he promised Sasha, but she hadn't kept her promise. She had hid the ankh, claiming to have lost it. But Armand knew where to find things.

Perhaps he'd stay a while longer and see what else he could find.