Triumph of Chaos (Red Magic) (11 page)

“I can start working a spell for forgiveness to help the survivors of the bombing in London.” Lorna’s voice sounded stronger than it had all night, and I smiled at her.

“That a good idea. I never would have thought of it,” I told her honestly.

She shrugged. “It’s not enough to fight chaos. We also have to clean up the mess, or hatred and fighting will spread.” She paused, her eyes sad. “Chaos isn’t isolated. It only takes a single spark before it takes on a life of its own, like wildfire.”

“Lorna’s right.” Dr. Farren looked at Justin. “Maybe you and I can devise a way to connect with other Witches. We’re going to need more help than just the five of us if we want our actions to have any impact.”

He nodded. “I have a few ideas for communication.”

“So that’s settled, then. Izzy and I recruit, you two talk, and Lorna will start cleaning up Rochelle’s mess.” Everyone nodded, and I tried to smile. “We’re making progress.”

“You have to move faster,” Marcus hissed in my ear. No one else heard him.

“So, where are we going to find some Nons?” Izzy asked, flopping down on my bed.

I shrugged. “It’s the end of March. I bet some of the schools are on spring break or something.”

“Are you saying we need to head to a vacation spot?” She grinned at me.

“The whole darn state is a vacation spot.” I paused, thinking for a minute. “Why don’t we look online and see if anything particularly non-magical is happening in Durham this week?”

She snorted. “What, like a 5K or something?”

“Something like that.” I had already opened my laptop and was skimming the city events calendar. “There’s an outdoor music performance at the American Tobacco Campus this Friday night.”

Izzy wrinkled her nose. “A whole college devoted to smoking? That’s gross.”

I laughed. “No, that’s not why it’s called that. It’s the old tobacco warehouses. Forever ago, cigarettes were the biggest export from our state.”

Izzy frowned. “I still don’t get the college thing.”

“It’s not a college. The warehouses have been turned into restaurants and stuff. It’s actually really cool down there.”

“Why do they call it a campus?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, but I bet we’d find a lot of Nons at this concert.”

“What kind of music is it?”

“Bluegrass.”

She made a face, and I laughed.

“Welcome to the South, sweetie.”

“Fine. I’ll go, but you better buy me food or something. And maybe some earplugs.”

“There’s a cool pizza place right there; we can grab dinner and then walk around.” I paused, thinking about her plan. “So what do we say to the Nons if you see magic around them?”

Izzy shrugged. “‘Hey, do you want to do magic?’”

“Seriously? Would you try that in Scotland?”

Her eyes were innocent. “What’s the problem? Lots of people want to do magic. It shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Izzy,” I said gently, “things are a little different here. This is the South, right?”

“So?”

I tried to figure out how to explain it. “So, a lot of people are pretty religious.”

She looked at me blankly, and I sighed.

“Magic isn’t really cool here. Lots of Nons don’t like anything to do with it. Like, sometimes they don’t even let their kids read fantasy novels in school.” At Trinity, I’d been taught that Nons were rigid and intolerant despite my parents’ affection for them, but Izzy didn’t seem to have the same hang-ups.

She lifted her hands. “So what did you have in mind?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. But I don’t think we can just blurt out stuff about magic.” I shrugged helplessly. “We’ll have to start the conversation slow.”

“Whatever. I’ll spot ‘em if you worry about talking to them.”

“Great,” I laughed. “Since I’m so good at making friends with strangers.”

“I liked you the first time we met.”

“That’s because you didn’t know any better.” I tried to say it lightly, but my stomach clenched.
What if I can’t get Nons to trust me?

On Friday, Izzy borrowed my old bike and I took Mom’s. Things had been tense between me and Mom and Dad ever since the fire. Nobody brought it up, but I felt like they’d betrayed me by staying inside. They acted like none of this stuff was actually happening, and I was relieved to escape from the house for a few hours with Izzy. I didn’t bother telling my parents the reason we were going downtown, but they probably assumed I was just showing Izzy around Durham and didn’t question us.

I’d never been able to manage to ride a bike in a skirt, but Izzy didn’t seem to be having any problems. It was still hotter than midsummer even though it should have been spring, and Izzy had dressed as if we were going to spend the day at the beach. I couldn’t blame her; the short sundress she was wearing looked a lot cooler than my shorts and T-shirt. I was drenched in sweat by the time we chained up the bikes outside the pizza place.

“This is so cool,” Izzy breathed, looking around at the old orange and red brick buildings.

“Right? I love this place.” I grinned, leading the way to the takeout counter. In a few minutes we headed outside, armed with a large pizza topped with artichokes, tofu, and I-don’t-know-what-else. I led Izzy to a low brick wall halfway between the restaurant and the outdoor stage.

“Shouldn’t we get closer? There’s no one to check out back here.”

I shook my head. “The concert’s not for an hour. Trust me. That lawn will fill up fast.”

She shrugged and folded a slice of pizza neatly in half before cramming it into her mouth. “Ow, the cheese is hot!”

I laughed and took a bite. “But it’s good.”

“It is,” she agreed. “And I’m hungry! I forget how much riding a bike makes me want to eat.”

“It seems like you always want to eat,” I teased, remembering the first lunch we’d shared in Scotland.

“I’m still growing,” she said imperiously. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Izzy,” I asked suddenly, “do I look older to you?”

“Older than me? Of course.”

“No.” I shook my head. “Older than when we met. I was sixteen then. But I should be almost eighteen now, thanks to the Underworld.”

She paused and studied my face. “No, you really look the same. What about me?” Izzy had also been missing for a year; I hadn’t really considered that before.

Her cheekbones seemed a little longer, but my memory was fuzzy. “I’m not sure.”

“That’s something to ask Isis about later.”

I nodded.

“Don’t you wish you had a patron to answer your questions?”

“Drop it,” I said. “That’s not why we’re here.”

“Fine.” She shrugged and finished another slice of pizza in silence.

I watched the crowd that was beginning to assemble. Hopefully we’d find some Dreamers before the band started. I had nothing against bluegrass; in fact, it’s one of my guilty pleasures. But I didn’t think Izzy would like it too much. Even though she was younger than me, she seemed too cool for that.

“There’s one,” she said quietly. I looked where she was pointing. A tall, skinny guy with a bad case of acne was spreading out a picnic blanket for a girl in a tube top.

“Him?”

She nodded. “He could do Yellow magic.”

I was surprised. “You can see a color for him, even though he doesn’t know what magic is?”

She nodded again. “And there’s another one over there.” She pointed to a guy in his late twenties with a scruffy beard. He was pushing a baby in a stroller back and forth distractedly, and I shook my head.

“I don’t know. Aren’t there any together?” I didn’t really want to make small talk with a young dad or a guy on a date.

Izzy glared at me. “What am I, an all-request station?” She huffed dramatically. “I’ll keep looking.”

The fiddle player came out on stage to tune, and the crowd had doubled in size when Izzy quietly said, “Bingo.”

I looked to where she was pointing and did a double take. “Izzy, are they twins?”

She shrugged. “Let’s find out.”

Before I could say anything, she was off the wall and sauntering over to two short guys with black hair. I chased after her, forgetting about the rest of the pizza. By the time I caught up, she was laughing at something one of the guys had said.

She turned to me and winked. “And this is my friend, Darlena.”

I tried to smile, but something about the guys made me nervous. Their honey-colored skin reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t quite place the memory.

“Hey, I’m Ben, and this is Brad.” The guy wearing round glasses stuck out his hand, and the other guy bobbed his head shyly.

“Are you guys twins?” I blurted out.

Ben laughed. “Yeah. Gotta love Mom’s sense of humor. Being identical wasn’t bad enough, she had to go and name us with alliteration too.”

I grinned at him. “At least your name doesn’t mean ‘little darling.’”

Izzy snorted. “I love
my
name, thank you very much.”

Brad asked quietly, “Is Izzy short for Isabelle?”

“Nope. Isadora.” She smiled broadly and looked at me. “It means ‘beloved of Isis.’”

“Very New Age. I like it.” Ben grinned.

“Are you guys from Durham?” I asked. Izzy glared at me. I could tell she’d been about to say something about magic, but I shook my head at her slightly. We didn’t know enough about these guys yet.

“Halfway. Dad lives here, but Mom lives with her parents on the big island.”

Warning bells went off in my mind. “The big island?” I asked stupidly.

Brad nodded. “In Hawaii. We switch off between the two of them.” He sighed. “I really miss Hawaii.”

“Dude, Pele’s mountain ain’t got nothing on this crowd!” Ben spread his arms wide, smiling at us.

Pele. That was who they reminded me of. I’d met the frightening goddess twice since becoming a Red, and I wasn’t exactly on her good side. I shot Izzy a frantic look, but she ignored me.

“That’s twice we’ve talked about goddesses. Are you guys interested in that kind of thing?”

Ben snorted. “What, feminism?”

Izzy leaned forward. “No. Magic.”

The microphones screeched as the band took the stage, and the crowd jumped at the feedback. Luckily, the fiddle player had fast fingers, and he started a rousing reel. Ben and Brad didn’t have a chance to answer before the music started, and I tugged on Izzy’s hand.