Oceans of Fire (38 page)

“Sorry,” Libby murmured, a small frown creasing her face. “I’m just thinking about why this Prakenskii would do this. If he was going to attack one of us with magic, why not do something that would really harm us?”

“What are the laws of magic?” Sarah asked. “Let’s go back to basics.”

Hannah shrugged. “I know what you’re getting at, but saying magic can be used as a defense but not an attack is worthless if he’s doing it. Magic is natural and
should
be used for good and not self-gain, but you know very well it can be turned around.”

“But he hasn’t harmed anyone,” Libby persisted.

Joley rubbed her palm along her thigh. “He hurt me.”

“Maybe it wasn’t on purpose. You pushed magic at him and he shoved back. That’s using magic as a defense, not an offense. Maybe he didn’t intend to shove so hard and you got zapped. He healed your hand, didn’t he? Why would he do that if he seriously intended to harm you?”

Joley scowled at Libby. “Do not even sound interested in him. Sheesh, Libby. He’s probably stirring a cauldron right now and conjuring up some demon from hell.” She rubbed the pad of her thumb over the injury and shuddered. “I still feel him. It’s as if he left behind his fingerprints on me or something. I hate it.”

“Let me see.” Libby held out her hand toward Joley.

Joley took a hasty step back, cradling her hand against her heart. “That’s okay, it’s nothing. We’re supposed to be concentrating on Abbey.”

Sarah gave a small groan. “Jonas is coming up the steps.”

She’d hardly given the warning when the front door was flung open and Jonas came striding in. He halted abruptly, observing the hundreds of lit candles, the small table set up facing north with Libby’s equipment for a ritual, and the long wooden staffs made of ancient wood from Italy forming a circle with Abigail and Aleksandr sitting in the center. A scowl settled on his face when his gaze fell on Aleksandr.

“You’re not going to be killing any chickens, are you?” he greeted the Drake sisters, closing the door with his foot. “I’ve been to Point Arena three times in the past month checking out complaints against Lucinda and I sure don’t want any of that going on here.”

“You’re so funny, Jonas,” Joley said. “Ha ha ha. As if we’d harm an animal.” She gave an indignant sniff.

“Hannah’s always harming my hats,” Jonas pointed out. “I’ve taken to buying them in bulk.” He put his hands on his hips and regarded Aleksandr with some amusement in spite of his obvious wariness. “You’re a brave man, Mr. Volstov.”

Aleksandr flashed a brief smile. “My fiancée insists on these strange ceremonies.” He shrugged. “What can I do?”

“How’s the investigation coming?” Jonas asked. “You any closer to finding your stolen art?”

“I’m getting there. I wanted to consult with you on a couple of details. Maybe you could give me a few minutes after we’re finished here. And you could fill me in on how your investigation is coming along.”

Jonas eyed him with suspicion. “Sure. Gene Dockins, the fisherman Abbey pulled out of the water, is out of the coma, but he doesn’t remember anything at all about the shooting or what led up to it. The doctors say he probably never will.”

“That’s not uncommon,” Libby said. “I’m so pleased to hear he’s recovering.”

“Yeah, apparently he made some pretty miraculous progress after you went to visit him this morning.”

“Libby!” Sarah glared at her. “That’s why you didn’t attend Frank’s party. You must have been totally exhausted. Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I was fine. I promised Marsha I’d check on him. The doctors had given him a very poor prognosis and he wasn’t showing any signs of coming out of the coma, so it was the least I could do.”

“We could have helped you,” Sarah said.

“I spent the evening resting with my feet up,” Libby said. “Let’s get started.”

“Are you certain you aren’t too tired?” Elle asked. “I can take over for you. I’m just eating all the cookies Hannah made this afternoon.”

“Cookies?” Jonas echoed. “Did you put some aside for me, Hannah?”

“Doesn’t she always?” Joley answered. “It’s the only thing keeping her out of jail. You’re always threatening to arrest her for something.”

Jonas winked at Hannah. “It’s the only way I can stay in cookies.” He gestured toward the kitchen. “I brought Aunt Carol’s pictures with me. I’ll go have a look at them and eat Hannah’s cookies while you all do whatever it is you’re doing—and don’t tell me, because I don’t really want to know.”

“What herbs are you using, Libby?” Elle asked.

“Ague root for protection; mallow, just in case Prakenskii is using black magic. It’s a very effective aid. And of course vervain. Would you like to watch what I’m doing and see how I prepare everything?”

Elle nodded and stepped closer as Libby stood at the north-facing round table she’d set up as her altar. They didn’t consider their practice a religion; however, their work platform was always addressed as an altar. Libby placed the mixture of herbs in the center of the table with candles on either side. “I’m using purple, white, and blue candles because I want to give Abbey protection and healing,” she explained. “I’m also going to align the vibrations of the plants to increase their effectiveness.”

“I can sometimes see the vibrations as a comet. Is it always like that?” Elle asked.

Libby shook her head. “Sometimes it can be jagged lines or sort of a spiral. Once you see them or feel them you can energize the herbs.” She signaled the others and at once the room went still.

Aleksandr felt a sudden rush of adrenaline pumping through his body. He was acutely aware of every detail in the room. The darkness. The flickering candles all around them. Anticipation heightened his awareness. Electricity crackled and snapped through the room. Libby’s voice filled the silence, a harmonious chant calling on the power of the earth, the wind, fire, and water. The Drake sisters and their aunt stood with hands touching, eyes closed, just outside the circle, surrounding Abigail and Aleksandr. The air was charged with so much electricity their hair seemed to stand out.

Aleksandr took a deep breath and inhaled the combination of strange fragrances coming from the herbs, candles, and incense. The air grew heavy. Small golden sparks arced from the Drake women’s fingertips, glowing first white and then yellow.

Aleksandr’s heart accelerated. Teacups floating and people speaking the truth were one thing, but this ceremony was something altogether different. Power was building in the room. He drew Abigail’s hand against his heart and held it there as the house creaked and shifted as if coming alive. He felt the floor shudder and the walls seemed to expand. Small comets of purple and blue streaked across the ceiling, then faded away, only to reappear, merging into shades of the two colors, to pulse with a vivid intensity.

The pictures of the Drake sisters and their ancestors on the wall began to shake slightly. The chant swelled in volume and Aleksandr was certain other voices had joined in. A far-off sound like the tinkle of chimes in the wind could be heard, the notes striking such an oddly discordant tone the hairs on his neck and arms raised.

Colors spun faster, blurring together, the tails of the comets leaving behind sparks in the air. The chimes grew louder and more distinct. A call. A summons. Persistent. Reverent. Anticipation tightened the knots in his stomach. In the entryway, over a detailed mosaic, movement caught Aleksandr’s eye. Shadows swirled, rising up out of the tiles, taking shape as they emerged. Women. An army of women.

Seven by seven they came out of the tiles swirling together in a shapeless gray mass and then separating into distinct individuals. They were transparent one moment and solid the next. More and more joined them, filling the room, standing solidly behind the circle of the Drake sisters. The women crowded in, voices swelling, candles flickering, power growing, packing the room until it seemed as if it was impossible any more could fit inside.

The shadowy women lined up directly behind each of the Drake sisters. Those behind Libby had their arms raised toward the moonlight spilling in through the windows, just as she did. The others held out their hands to one another and the same sparks arced from their fingertips as from the Drakes’. The last group formed a protective circle around all of them.

Libby dropped her arms and all the shadows behind her followed suit. A hush fell over the room. Aleksandr held his breath. The woman closest to Libby stepped forward, crowding her impossibly, overshadowing her, merging until they disappeared, leaving only Libby behind. He glanced around. The same process repeated itself with each of the other women until there were only the seven sisters and Carol left in the room.

Again there was that moment of expectation. The Drake women raised their arms toward the moonlight and the surge of power was tremendous. It brought whips of electricity that danced white-hot through the room. A bluish flame outlined each whip. The tails of crackling light swirled through the air and slithered across the ceiling and down the walls of the house, sliding across the floor toward the circle. The whips left behind a luminescent film, a thin coating of bluish purple over everything they touched. The color spread across the floor toward the circle of wooden staffs and for one moment he felt the electrical charge rushing
through
him and over him. He looked down to see his fingers, entwined with Abbey’s, glowing with that same colorful light.

The chimes faded away. The color faded. The candles flickered in silence. Aleksandr forced air through his lungs. The tension began to seep out of him and he forced his muscles to relax. He’d been unaware he had partially covered Abigail’s body with his own in an effort to protect her from the unknown. She hadn’t made a sound, but one arm was wrapped around his neck.

Jonas flicked a switch on the wall, flooding the room with light. He leaned one hip against the doorjamb and grinned at Aleksandr. “Welcome to the Drake family.” He held out a handful of cookies. “You hungry?”

Abigail came up on her knees and framed Aleksandr’s face with her hands. “This is who I am, Sasha. This is my heritage.”

“Those women?” He had faced many killers in his lifetime, many dangerous situations, but none of them had put fear in him the way that ceremony had. He didn’t know what to think or feel. Looking around the room, it seemed almost normal again. No colors flashing. No electricity arcing. The wooden staffs were gone, the candles no longer lit. Even the small round table had been whisked away.

“My ancestors.”

“When you said the house was protected, you really meant literally,” he said, feeling slightly dazed. Even seeing it, Aleksandr felt it was impossible to fully comprehend what had happened.

“You look a bit pale,” Jonas said and crossed the room pull Aleksandr to his feet. “Don’t try to figure it out,” he advised. “Just accept them.”

Aleksandr drew Abigail up and fit her in close to his body. He needed the reassurance of her real and solid against him. “That was incredible. I’m not sure I believe what I saw.” He waited a heartbeat. “What I think I saw.”

“Do you feel different, Abbey?” Libby asked. “Is the emotional pain gone?”

Abigail nodded. “It lessened inside the circle and is gone now.” She smiled at Aleksandr. “What about you? Do you feel better?”

“I knew I was feeling your pain. I don’t know how I knew it, but it overwhelmed me. I think the thought that I could do that to you, cause you so much hurt, was more distressing than anything else. That and thinking you wouldn’t give me a another chance.” He bent his head to kiss the tip of her nose. “It was very distracting.”

Sarah spun around. “What did you say?”

Aleksandr looked up. “I wanted another chance with Abbey.”

Sarah waved the explanation aside. “Right. Right. But you were distracted. From what? What were you doing?”

Joley snickered. “Staring at Sylvia’s works of art in the back room of Frank’s gallery. Just what were you doing back there anyway? That room was off-limits.”

“To everyone but the Drake family?” Aleksandr raised his eyebrow.

Jonas looked from one to the other. “Why were you all so interested in Frank Warner’s back room?”

“I wanted to take a look around,” Aleksandr admitted. “Sylvia offered and I took her up on it.”

“You mean you planted the suggestion,” Abigail corrected.

He shrugged. “She was angry with you for some reason. Something to do with her ex-husband. Apparently she’s been trying to get back with him. He was at the party and he saw her talking innocently to Ned Farmer. She wasn’t making much sense. She claimed her ex-husband hated a rash on her face that Abbey was responsible for and talking to Farmer had somehow brought out the rash. I didn’t see a rash.”

“Ned’s married,” Hannah said. “And she had to be flirting if the rash came out.”

“I think she flirts aft a standard way of talking with men, Hannah,” Sarah said. “So Aleksandr went into the back room with Sylvia looking for something. What?”

“Well, Sylvia saw her ex go into the back room. He didn’t come out so eventually she wanted to see what he was up to. She kept talking about it so it wasn’t all that hard to give her a little nudge. I thought I might get a few answers.”

“He was looking for stolen paintings,” Joley volunteered. “We found them. At least we think they were stolen. We found four in a cupboard and took pictures of them. They should be in the photographs Jonas brought back.”

“You have pictures?” Aleksandr asked.

“Those photographs are of stolen art?” Jonas asked and turned back to the kitchen where he’d spread the snapshots over the kitchen table. The rest began to follow him.

“Jonas!” Carol’s voice reprimanded from the kitchen. “You dropped cookie crumbs on them.”

Sarah stopped Aleksandr before he could follow the others. “Once you felt Abigail’s pain, you stopped investigating the back room, didn’t you?”

“Abbey or one of the others stirred up the dust in the room. Sylvia had a sneezing fit. I knew they were in there. Not
them
, the Drakes, at first. I just knew we weren’t alone and when the dust swirled around us and Sylvia began sneezing uncontrollably, I took the opportunity to get out, but I intended to go back in myself later to have a look around.”