The Thread That Binds the Bones (34 page)

Chapter 21

With Othersight Tom could see the bright hazes that enveloped each of the people sitting at the kitchen table. More than twenty people sat there, each centered in his or her own net of colored light. The ceiling, too, was full of varied glows, some almost blindingly bright pinpoints of colored light, others diffuse trails of light beads or knots. Below, dimmer lightshadows moved among the seated ones; Tom blinked and saw the Henderson sisters, Chester, and a few other people dishing food onto plates, or clearing dishes. The kitchen cavern was full of the scent of spicy stir-fried meat and vegetables, with an underlay of woodsmoke from the open fireplace. Tom tried to remember his last meal and couldn’t. He ignored his hunger and started sorting people out by appearance, remembering some of them only from the festivals.

“Hello,” said Aunt Agatha. Candlelight made flickering reflections on her glasses. “Been fetchcasting?”

“Not exactly,” said Tom.

“We brought news,” Michael said.

Hal stood up, setting aside his napkin and knife and fork. “Beatrice,” he said, studying Trixie. “No, I can’t allow this. Not Beatrice or Bert as fetches. Who dared? May, stop them.”

“Stop what?” asked Bert. Trixie stared at Fayella, who sat hunched in her dark green cape, her deep-set eyes shining. Fayella grinned, showing pointed teeth, and held up her fork with what looked like a child’s hand pierced on its tines. Trixie gasped.

“No, Aunt,” said Michael. He flicked fingers at Fayella, but she blocked his spell with ease. Alyssa snapped her fingers and the hand vanished, replaced by a carrot. Fayella laughed.

“We don’t eat people,” Carroll told Trixie. “It was illusion, Aunt.”

“I don’t know what to believe about the Nightwalker,” said Trixie.

“Oh, best of my students, my precious one, whom are you calling Aunt?” Fayella asked Carroll, her voice low and musical.

Carroll’s eyes widened. He went toward her, sleepwalking.

“What have they done to my boy?” Fayella asked. “Have they twisted you in the head? Come, let me heal and restore you.” She rose, holding out her arms to Carroll.

“Stop it,” said Maggie. “Shut up!” She ran and grabbed Carroll’s arm. He turned on her, his eyes smoky and green. “Wake up, Carroll.” She snapped her fingers in his face. He blinked. His brows drew together.

“So it speaks?” Fayella said. “We can remedy that.” She twitched her hands, casting a quick, perfect spell at Maggie. Tom saw it, yellow and glistening, as it shot through the air. He used his still-present silver net to deflect it, but it struck and smoked and sputtered against his shield, eating at it; he felt pain in his hands, as if acid ate his palms.

—Peregrine!

—Change your casting to glass.

Tom imagined his net crystalline and smooth, like the bubble he had encased Carroll in
not so long ago. The slime of Fayella’s spell slid down it and ate a hole in the rock floor.

“Is this a test of power?” Hal asked in an angry voice. “No one has declared!”

“Cease this strife,” said Aunt Agatha. She said it with a doubled edge to her voice that froze them all, reminding Tom of the voice Laura had used on him during the drive out to the Hollow. “Boy, explain the purpose of this visit,” Agatha said to Tom.

“We came to offer information,” Tom said.

“You brought strangers among us. Now we must own them.”

“No,” said Michael. “No, Aunt. That’s part of our news. Annis married Barney today, a ceremony sanctioned. Sanctioned, Uncle?” He turned to Carroll.

Carroll nodded. “Sanctioned by Presences, and their child sealed to Locke. I am its
miksash.
It is named Rupert Locke, sign fire.”

Conversation broke out among people at the table, their words climbing one another and striking echoes out of the stone around them.

“How could she wed filth?” Fayella demanded, her voice a knife that cut through all the others. “How could she pollute her womb with filth?” She spat on the floor, leaving a smoking splatter.

“The child is whole and perfect. I have seen it,” said Carroll.

“You are all eroded, eaten from within,” Fayella said. “Family, we must slice these limbs from the tree, cut the thread that binds the bones. These are diseased and threaten to infect us.” Her voice was beautiful, with a golden undertone that carried absolute conviction. Tom felt sick.

—She uses the gift of mindshift, Peregrine said.—Can you make a shield against it? I have heard of such a shield, but never crafted one. It is called a truth strainer, a power of air. None of those alive in my day had such a strong voice as hers, so I never needed to learn the craft.

Tom put his hands near his ears, imagined he could craft nets that fit just over his ears and sifted out the lies, letting only the truth get through. He felt and sensed something happening. Whether it would work was another question.

Bert gripped Tom’s shoulder. Tom glanced at him, saw him staring around the room and up at the ceiling. Tom looked at the Powers and Presences on the ceiling, saw that their numbers had grown, with more arriving every second. The pale Presences of ghosts were silently arriving, too, coming in through walls or emerging like breaths from the floor.

“Thus you pass judgment?” asked Aunt Agatha, her voice still hard-edged and formal.

“I declare it by all that is in me,” Fayella said.

“Any seconds?” asked Agatha.

“Hear us, first hear us,” said Michael,

Tom touched Laura’s hand. “Do ‘Seen and Unseen,’” he whispered.

Gwen stood, her chair scraping the floor behind her as she pushed it back. Her gaze met Tom’s, and a smile flickered across her face. She opened her mouth.

Laura lifted her hand and made the first four signs with her thumb, the gestures expansive but controlled. The cavern flared with ghost fire, tall beings kindling into sight, glows and suns and lightsnakes scattered across the ceiling like stars and comets fallen too close to earth.

Maggie saw a ghost woman beside her, a compact silver-blue person in the garments of a long-gone age. “Sister, thy permission?” said the ghost. Maggie released Carroll’s elbow and held her arms out, and Ianthe walked into her.

“I am Ianthe Bolte,” said Ianthe, through Maggie, “of the fourteenth generation. I counsel you, descendants: let none of you act in haste, for you know not who or what stands trial tonight.” She smoked free of Maggie and all the Presences began to wink out as Laura’s spell wore off.

“Laura, when did you learn to cast like that?” May asked, her voice warm and laughing.

“May,” said Aunt Agatha, “that’s hardly the issue.”

“It’s the heart of the issue,” Tom said.

“Stop his mouth,” cried Fayella, “block his words. He is cancer.”

“Whatever hurt you so badly?” Tom asked her.

“I was blind! I did not see it soon enough. I should have killed or confused you when I had the chance. You are destruction. You are corrosion. You are death to order. Family, cast him out before he infects the rest of us as he has these.”

“You may speak in your own defense, Tom,” said Aunt Agatha.

“She’s right, though; I embody those things.” He held out his hands, open. “I bring you change.”

Hal hit the table with his open hand, making a slapping sound. “I charge that these proceedings have not been formalized.”

“
Skaloosh plakna
,”
said Michael. “I call the Powers and Presences to witness that I grant salt privilege to Bert Noone and Trixie Delarue.”

“Thank the Powers that somebody in this family has sense,” said May. “Never suspected it would be you, Michael!”

“It’s a start,” said Hal.

“We haven’t finished supper yet,” Perry said,

“Do not eat, do not drink,” said Fayella. “Not while they are still here, unstratified. Do nothing to bind them to us when they are in this state of betrayal.”

Jess stood. He looked at Fayella, then picked up his cup and plate and walked toward Laura. “I extend welcome, sister,” he said, offering his dishes, which still held food and drink. Laura smiled at him and reached for the proffered plate and cup, but Fayella cast, and this time Tom wasn’t prepared. Acid dropped down in a shower from the air, devoured plate, cup, and contents, then started on Jess’s fingers. He cried out. Laura bridged the gap between them, taking his hands in hers and summoning healing energy.

When Jess’s raw flesh had been repaired and glowed with new pink skin, Laura released Jess and stepped past him. Her eyes blazed. She said, “Aunt, you have no right to interdict me! I have not been cast out.” She gestured toward the laden table and a bowl of stew flew to her outstretched hand. She dipped fingers in it and licked them. Then she walked to Maggie. “Take, eat: this is the life of our household and a covenant between us as equals and friends.”

Maggie glanced at Carroll, who looked remote and sad. She turned to Laura. She dipped two fingers into the bowl and licked them. “Salt between us. Salt for peace. Salt for memory,” she said.

“No!” Fayella screamed. “Ash and earth, no!” She gestured with both hands, her fingers performing an eerie and intricate dance, smooth as the cadence of a grandmother knitting. Tom saw streamers of yellow-green slime emerge from her fingertips; he stepped forward, glassing his shield, but in case that didn’t work, he stepped in front of Laura and Maggie.

“Stop,” said Agatha, her voice focused and tangible. Fayella’s casting retracted into her hands, which she plunged into her cider mug. Steam rose. “Order,” said Agatha. “Wait for recognition hereafter. This chaos cannot continue.”

Carroll lifted a hand to shoulder height, index and middle fingers extended, the other two bent. Agatha nodded to him. “Status, Aunt. All are now shielded, by word and custom if not by casting. We come to tell you that things have changed in town. Annis married her fetch, the union sanctioned by Peregrine Bolte of the thirteenth generation, the issue
Ilmonish.
If salt is not enough, I declare these three people, Bert, Trixie, and Maggie, mine by right of combat. No one of you touches them or harms anything belonging to them unless you challenge and defeat me first. Furthermore, Maggie is sealed to Tom, and he is the only one here who
could
defeat me. Let there be no more breaking of bindings.”

“I witness it,” said Michael.

“Do any challenge?” Agatha asked.

Fayella hissed. Agatha stared at her and she subsided. “Carroll’s information stands unchallenged,” said Agatha. “Thank you, Carroll. Is that all?”

“No. I am living in town now, and I pass my service to Family to Perry, Alex, and Arthur, if they are willing.”

“How can you separate from Family and live in town?” asked Agatha, her voice thawing into her normal tone. She sounded worried and sad.

“I have lessons to learn and little to offer.”

“But we have contracted for Talitha Keye—”

“No,” said Carroll. “Send her my regrets.”

“But Carroll—”

“
Miksash
is the highest status I can aspire to, and I have achieved it, Aunt.”

Perry stopped chewing on a sneaked heel of bread. Everyone sat silent, all motion suspended.

Agatha pushed back her chair and stood up. “I call conference,” she said. Everyone, including the fetches, cleared dishes and utensils off the table. People stood up and retreated, fanning out around the edges of the kitchen. Carroll and Laura shooed the rest of Tom’s contingent toward the kitchen area; Tom found himself standing beside the Henderson sisters, Delia, and Chester, with Maggie next to him. “Hi,” he said, but they shook their heads and stared at the plates and bowls they held.

Agatha crooned and struck the rock floor with a stick, sang, and gestured. The regular table and benches sank level with the floor, which moved in low waves like a slow-motion sea. In place of the previous furniture, a round table with a hollow center appeared, ringed with rock stools.

“Presences, Powers, I call you, entreat you,” she said in the other tongue; Peregrine translated for Tom. “Powers and Presences, bless us and aid us to see, hear, and think, to decide and to choose; give us the clarity to choose the right way; make clear the winding ways buried in hearts; help us to heal what is ailing or ill; help us to strengthen the good in our Family; and help us to listen to each with respect. By earth and by air, by fire and flood, by all force and objects, seen and unseen. By blood and by ties that bind us together, help us to seek for the truth and the right.” People repeated the words with her. Then they all stood silent, feeling a strange thickening of air that was almost a sound, a pressure on the skin and in the ears. It touched and then lessened.

“All right,” said Agatha in English. “Thank you. All come and join me.” She sat on one of the stools she had created, and people came to join her around the table, bringing the remnants of their meals with them. Tom waited, glancing at Delia, who touched Maggie’s shoulder.

Maggie looked at her.

“Did you get away? Are you your own, or has Mr. Carroll recaptured you?” whispered Delia.

“Mine,” Maggie said. “Mostly. You ready to leave yet?”

“No,” said Delia softly. “I’ve been here nearly sixty years; I was sixteen when Miss Leah took me, her so sick in childbirth with Miss May, and I helped raise the babies ever since. They’re more real to me than my own family. I’m sure my mother is dead by now.”

Maggie touched her hand, then followed Carroll to the table, Tom trailing after. “Have you eaten?” Agatha asked the newcomers, and they shook their heads. “Well, no harm in it now.” She glanced at the business end of the kitchen. Chester came and handed out plates, napkins, and silver. “Float whatever you want,” said Agatha, gesturing toward stewpots, bowls of steaming vegetables, and plates of buttered bread people had brought back to the table.

“But Aunt,” said Jess, “not during conference! Never in the past three hundred years—”

“Thank you, Jess. I’m
Arkhos
now, and I’ve just changed that rule. First question. Why have these Presences gathered without our summoning them? Tom?”

—Peregrine?

—How did Bert perceive them?

—Don’t confuse me with that just now. Help me, please. Why so many ghosts tonight?