"No." The one word was clipped, full of…emotion?

  "Lucy?" Carlo was careful. "Are you crying?"

  Lucy stepped away from him. "No."

  "You are." Carlo stepped toward her.

  She steepled her hands, putting the tips of her fingers on the bridge of her nose, covering her nose and mouth. "I have to go. I'm sorry." She picked up her pace and pulled ahead of him.

  "Wait."

  "Leave me alone, Carlo. Please."

  "I am not going to leave you alone." He walked until he was abreast of her and swallowed his emotions. "How is this possible?"

  "I will not do this," Lucy said. "I will not."

  Carlo grabbed her arm and pulled her to face him. "I know you don't care about me or your family or yourself, any of it. But we care about you. I care about you. I care for you, Lucy. I can't help it, but I do."

  "You just said you didn't."

  "I lied."

  Lucy's eyes shut and she stamped her foot. "Hellfire and damnation!"

  Carlo stared at her. "Lucy, are you…angry?"

  "No. I cannot be angry. I do not have emotions."

  Carlo blinked. "You were emotional when you broke your engagement. You have emotions now?" Carlo bit his lower lip "Why didn't you say something? You have emotions? How long?"

  "If you insinuate I have been deceiving you—"

  Carlo raised his hands defensively. "No, I don't mean that." She had emotions. It was an unlooked for gift, one he didn't understand.

  They walked on rough ground, around loose stones. Lucy didn't say anything else until they were out in the wilds, away from the main road, although she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. She stopped by one of the random rocks left behind in the glaciers' wake and leaned against its first curve. "You are my friend and you understand me better than anyone else. You know who I was and who I am. You have known me at my worst and you still came back to me." The wind gusted. The gems in her hair were ice. "You still believe in me, in spite of everything. And you love me?"

  "I do." She still hadn't answered his question.

  She stood on tiptoe, and pulled his head closer to hers, then she kissed him. Her kiss stabbed him like a bee sting, and then it was like a sweet torta melting in his mouth. Carlo forgot about the cold. The kiss lasted long enough for his spirit to soar into heaven and touch the sun. It was a blissful lifetime later when they broke apart. "Now whatever happens," said Lucy, "you'll know the truth."

  Carlo's heart swelled. "You don't have to tell me anything. I am content to remain in this moment for the rest of my life."

  "I don't know where to begin."

  Carlo leaned beside her on the rock and glanced up at the stars, polished silver against black velvet in the cold of the early spring night. He held her hand and loved the feel of it against his palm. "In your own time."

  "Ra and I…" She paused, took a breath, and began again. "I theorize if you put two souls in the same physical place, one influences the other. Isis lost my personality, but Ra still has emotions, and I must have gained them again from him."

  "Ra is influencing you?"

  Lucy squeezed his hand. "It's the only explanation I have. I was so certain I could control all of this, but I—Carlo, I am glad you are here, but you shouldn't be. Nothing is more important to me than you. Because of that, I had to rid myself of you, so I did."

  "You lied to me in Venice to rid yourself of me?"

  Lucy's lips quirked. "The Klaereons have done enough damage to you."

  Carlo knelt on the hard, cold ground so he could look her in the eyes. He stared at her. "My family has done much worse to you."

  "I was going to leave Octavia and Drusus, inflict myself on Atreus Galt. When Drusus hurt me, I realized he and Khun are negotiating the same problems as Ra and I are."

  "Maybe," said Carlo. "Maybe not."

  "I panicked, and I made him run. You are right. I cannot plan for every possible outcome and make people safe. But we are dangerous." Lucy burst into tears. "Drusus, myself. I don't want anything to happen to you."

  Carlo held her while she cried, the wind buffeting them. He stroked her hair. All this time they had wasted. "I'm here," Carlo said softly. "I'm here now."

  Lucy pulled away from him, and wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all this."

  Carlo kissed her on the top of the head. "I promise you, Piccolina, I will keep you and your family safe. Do you trust me?"

  "More than anyone else."

  "Will you marry me? Tonight?" Carlo kissed her hands.

  "It can't be done in England."

  "Whatever we need to do, I'll do it."

  "We will have to go to Scotland."

  Carlo looked thoughtful. "Your island is thankfully small."

  Lucy sniffed, a small grin lighting her face after the tears. "It's a long walk to Scotland."

  "I know people at the inn. They have horses. It's a matter of waking someone up."

  "Yes," Lucy said. She repeated it with certainty. "Yes, Carlo. And thank you."

  Carlo grabbed her hand and pulled her toward The George. "We have to hurry. There isn't much night left."

  McAllistair bent forward, and Octavia plucked the calling card off the silver tray. Helen Galt's card was still outlined in black in honor of her father.

  "I thought you might not be at home, milady," said McAllistair.

  "Miss Lucia will not be at home to anyone today," said Octavia. "I suppose I must be. Have you seen her this morning, McAllistair?"

  McAllistair stood ramrod straight, like a column. "I have not. Would you like one of us to locate her?"

  "I will later." Octavia placed the book she was reading on the table. The sun outside in the garden peeked through the clouds. It would be a chilly spring day, even though it would look otherwise. "I will see Miss Galt here. I'll ring if we need anything."

  Octavia watched McAllistair go out, and then she puffed her cheeks. Would this situation remind Helen of things in her own past best left there? Helen came into the room, and glanced about. "We are alone, then?"

  "Lucy is not available. I hope I will suffice?"

  Helen perched at the edge of a chair. "I did not think she would go through with it."

  Octavia raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

  "Octavia, I suggested to Lucy she might reconsider her engagement to Atreus. She suggested she would not, that the alliance was too good to turn down. It was Mr. Borgia who changed her mind, wasn't it?"

  "I was of the opinion Lucy would not change her mind at all. Perhaps you were too convincing a friend." Octavia knew there was something else Helen wanted to discuss. It was her way to start a conversation about one thing, and then to reveal her true motives after some small time.

  "I wouldn't mind Lucy joining our family, but I don't think she is a good match for my brother."

  "And how is your brother today?"

  "Furious. What a terrible embarrassment. He suspects I had something to do with it, and he is right." Helen looked over Octavia's shoulder, studying something else in the room. "Atreus may come by later. To discuss matters with you as head of the family."

  "Oh." Octavia nodded. "No doubt insisting upon the match."

  "Yes. And there's something else I should tell you. There's a rumor Lucy has eloped with Mr. Borgia."

  Octavia smiled brightly, like the rays in the garden. "There was bound to be a rumor of some sort."

  "Has she?"

  It wouldn't be the first time Lucy had run away to a new fate with Carlo Borgia. "I am sorry to disappoint. Just because Lucy is not interested in your brother does not perforce mean she is interested in someone else."

  "Only Atreus has heard she has."

  "I see. I appreciate your stopping to tell me." Octavia smoothed the wrinkles of her skirt. "I am sorry Mr. Borgia is returning to Europe so soon. You would find his interests align with yours somewhat. Regarding magic."

  "Ah. I regret we will not have time to talk."

  Or that your brother would look upon it unfavorably. "Please do not worry yourself on my or Lucy's account. I am more than capable of speaking with your brother on my sister's behalf."

  "I do want to emphasize I hold no ill will, and I apologize if I have done anyone any harm."

  "Lucy has always known her own mind, Helen. I encourage that." Mostly because previously we were not allowed to. Octavia tried to guess what Helen was thinking. She finally took the best guess she could. "I wish I could have been as good a friend to you as you were to Lucy."

  "I do not know what you are referring to," said Helen.

  "No matter then," said Octavia. "You know you are always welcome here."

  York, December, 1838

  Octavia's eyes wandered the officious hallway, glanced over the marble columns, the patterns on the walls, the cracks in the tiles. Instead of pacing, she sat on a stone bench, willing herself to stay calm. Behind the door to her left, five representatives of the families were meeting, talking about details, reviewing information, deliberating about what was to be done about her. What was to be done with her. After all, she had killed her father.

  Her heart drummed loudly, and blood rushed in her ears. What would the council decide? Vergilius, Drusus' older brother, had delayed the matter for as long as he could, helped her wait until after Marcellus had been born and she had recovered. It had been a little over a year since she had literally ripped her father's heart out in the terraced garden at Mistraldol. Considering that, the council had been most forbearing.

  Be silent. Be centered. You are yourself. You know who you are.

  Would she have killed her father if it hadn't been for Ra? It was a question which gouged her late at night. Who she had been before she had been taught by her father to take what she wanted, to kill Lucy, who stood in her way? As a girl, she had been frantic at Caius Klaereon's suggestions she kill Lucy. Khun, constantly pushing her toward her darker desires, also bore some responsibility for creating the monster she had become. As she realized her father had killed her uncle and her mother, her mood vacillated between rage and fear. When she was possessed by Ra, she had done unspeakable things. She was lucky Isis had returned Lucy to her, but she could not bring herself to feel sorry for Caius Klaereon's death.

  The door cracked open. Vergilius stepped into the hallway. He was starting to look weary after taking charge of the council of families, wrinkles across his forehead, crow's feet at the corners of his eyes. His disdain for the setting slipped through for a second, an awareness he was not comfortable here. "We are ready for you," he announced.

  Octavia exhaled and entered the room where the council had been deliberating her fate. Inside, she found a group of four—the other representatives of the council: Madam Claudine Fouchet, an elderly woman who wore a high powdered white wig; Abdou Ngidi of the Dahomey Kingdom, wrapped in a patterned fur which ended over one shoulder; Baron Kristoff Bauer, a Prussian dressed in an uncomfortable, stiff uniform; and an aged Chinese woman, the Hsieng family matriarch, whose real name was always secret. Octavia curtsied and remained standing.

  "Lady Klaereon," said Madame Fouchet. "This council has deliberated at length, before today, regarding the death of your father Caius Klaereon. We are sorry for your loss."

  Octavia's voice shook as she answered. "I am sorry for causing it."

  Ngidi spoke next. "We understand your family's particular magic led to this unfortunate outcome. All magic carries the potential for great harm. We were uncertain as to whether this magic would strike again, and what danger your family might be to others. Lord Claudian suggests you no longer have an allegiance with a demon?"

  Baron Bauer leaned over and whispered in Madame Fouchet's ear. "They are gods."

  "They are demons," said Ngidi. "She summons them from the Abyss, does she not?"

  "It is more complex than that," said Bauer.

  "Regardless," said Madame Fouchet, "Lord Claudian assures us you were incapacitated during recent events. While it was irresponsible of you not to control your magic better, we understand the fault of the matter lies with a hitherto unknown quantity from the Borgia family. Do you agree?"

  Octavia paused. "My sister Lucy planned to Bind Ra, in the tradition of our family, but yes, our traditions were bested by other magic and other agendas. Lucy and I both paid the price. I am no longer connected to the entity known as Khun." Octavia knew they would note she no longer looked or felt like a creature from the crypt, separated from the world of the living. "My sister is a blood magician in my mother's tradition and has imprisoned Ra at great personal sacrifice. Our family will undergo any further atonement this council sets for us."

  "Lord Claudian asserts your mother Calpurnia Klaereon née Julii and your uncle Bartholomew Klaereon were killed in cold blood by your father. Is this true?" Baron Bauer waited for her response.

  "To the best of my knowledge, this is true. I have vague memories of my mother's death, and I had a confession from my father regarding Uncle Bartholomew."

  "Your acts could be construed as vengeance," said Ngidi. "You have every right to take vengeance."

  Madame Fouchet cleared her throat. "Again, we are more concerned with the potential of ill contained magic. We find there is no danger after the events drew to a close, and the Hsieng matriarch does not foresee the particular entity Ra resurging in the future, inasmuch as she can read the current paths. The council finds, with admonishment and censure regarding the crime, that you were incapacitated by possession and are not responsible. As head of the Klaereon family, you now assume the responsibility for your family's strange allies, whatever you choose to call them. You must control and contain them, and make sure they are no danger to the rest of us. There will be no reason for us to discuss the change in your status or your sister's regarding your traditional magic outside of this room, provided you are successful."

  Octavia almost fell under the relief of the judgment. "I will endeavor to serve the community for the betterment of all the families, Madame Fouchet."

  Vergilius bowed curtly. "Thank you, madame. All of you." Vergilius grabbed Octavia's elbow and steered her from the room. Outside, he addressed her in hushed tones. "That went as well as we could have hoped."

  "No doubt in large thanks to you."

  "In spite of Galt trying to muddy the waters, yes."

  "Lord Galt? Why?"

  "What would you expect? They would like the Solomon Scroll again, and if your family cannot control themselves, it might return to them."

  "The council would never return the scroll to them. Their activities with the scroll threw Europe into chaos. It's a miracle they're still allowed to be included in the families."

  "Your own family is the same. We have always believed dangerous elements are best kept observed."

  "That…is wise. I intend to do what I can to change my family's reputation. I hope we will not be as dangerous in the future."

  "I am glad to hear it," said Vergilius. "It would be the wisest plan."

  Hathersage, April, 1842

  Octavia glanced at Atreus Galt's card on the silver tray. "At least we are forewarned," she muttered.

  McAllistair waited. "What shall I tell him, Lady Klaereon?"

  "I will receive him," said Octavia. She watched McAllistair back out, patted stray hairs into place, and stiffened as much as possible. The more she could look like a woman of marble for this interview, the better off she would feel. She had chosen the setting carefully: her study. Traditionally, all Klaereon business with members of the other families was conducted here, and she wanted to convey not a woman's hospitality, but the fact she was the leader of the Klaereons, and she was not to be trifled with. If Lucy had some small chance at something resembling happiness, Octavia was going to make sure she took it. Carlo could be nothing but a stabilizing influence on her.

  Octavia was wearing black. After a lifetime of the color, she was heartily sick of it, yet again she wanted Atreus to see her as the strength of the Klaereons, the Galts' chief rival, so black it had to be.

  Atreus entered the room slowly, thumping a walking stick on the floor, one he didn't really need, one for show. She remembered Agamemnon Galt carrying it all the time, like a practical scepter. Rumor had it Agamemnon had beaten a stable hand to death with it. Octavia doubted that, but was pretty certain he'd used it liberally on his children, Atreus included. Atreus had also come prepared to flaunt his status.

  "I apologize for making you wait," Octavia said. He knew she'd done that on purpose, and this was her way of acknowledging that.

  Atreus did not pull any punches. "I would rather talk to your husband."

  "You take too much to the ways of those who are not magicians," said Octavia, standing and therefore keeping him standing. "I am the head of this family, and any complaints you have are to be taken up with me." She masked her feelings with suitable grimness. "You are here because my sister has rejected you."

  "Your family has broken a formal agreement with mine. You are the head of this family. You need to make her honor our engagement."

  "I cannot see why you think I would be interested in doing so. I have always allowed Lucy to follow her own mind in this. She has seemingly changed it."

  Atreus' eyes narrowed. "What does Drusus say? Where is your husband?"

  Octavia darkened the room. Let him see that she was perturbed. "What Drusus would say or not is inconsequential."

  Atreus tapped his cane on the floor. "You will not force Lucy to honor her agreement with me?"

  "I have told you so as clearly as I can."

  "You will regret this decision."

  "Will I?" The corners of the room deepened from gray to the beginning of black. "We Klaereons have never dealt well with threats."

  "This is no threat. This is a promise. How well do you think the Klaereons can keep so many secrets?"

  Octavia's lips narrowed to a tight line. "Do your worst. My intelligence tells me that by this time, Lucy has become Mrs. Borgia. There is nothing left for us to do but accept what has happened. I am sorry on your behalf."

  Atreus' jaw quivered with anger. "I had hoped, Octavia, we might repair the relationship between our families, not carry on the petty maneuverings of our fathers. I see I was mistaken."

 

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