Spells and Bones

Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

“So where exactly are we going?” I wondered as we trotted down the busy streets of Validen with Ferox the fierce pulling our vehicle. “That Phantom group isn’t supposed to be here yet.”

“We’re going to inquire exactly when they’ll arrive,” he told me as he gave me a mischievous smile. “One can’t fetch a good teacher if they don’t know when they’re available.”

I dropped my gaze to the cylinder attached to my arm. “Is this such a good idea? I mean, what if this thing accidentally kills him?”

He shook his head. “It’s more likely to kill you first than him.”

I dropped my arm and my face did the same. “That’s a comforting thought.”

A pensive expression slipped onto his face as he crossed one leg over the other. “We could try investigating the Prima Staff, but our inquiries would attract unwanted attention.”

His eyes flickered to a tall figure whom we passed. It was a guard, and I had to stop myself from flinching. “I see what you mean.”

Ben c****d his head slightly and studied me. “We could, however, have someone else make inquiries for us.”

Both my eyebrows shot up. “You mean him?”

My companion nodded. “He’s rather useful for such expeditions. People feel more freely speaking with him than with a high-society swell.”

I blinked at him. “Why is that?”

He flashed me a wicked grin. “Because they already know who, and what, they’re dealing with.”

I leaned back against the seat and crossed my arms over my chest. “You’re going to have to tell me how all of that happened, and you still haven’t explained-” I waved my hand at his chest, “-well, all that.”

There was that thoughtful look on his face again as he stared ahead. “We might make a brief stop elsewhere for that explanation. There is someone I know who would be better able to answer your questions.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “Really? Who?”

“My mother.”

I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was. After all, I’d heard he had a parent. Still, there was one nagging question about that admission. “Your mom knows about what you do?”

“You mean gallivanting about with beautiful women, then yes.”

I rolled my eyes. “I meant your ‘hobby.’”

“Also yes.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “And she approves?”

He sighed. “She doesn’t completely approve of my hobby, no.”

A snort escaped me. “Alright, I want to meet her.”

Ben leaned forward and lifted his voice just slightly. “Ferox, take us to-” The horse flung his head back and whinnied before he turned sharply rightward. So sharp, in fact, that Ben was sent tumbling against the wall of his side of the carriage. He righted himself and grinned. “I should have known his acute hearing was listening in on our conversation.”

“Does he understand everything we’re saying?”

“Certain words, at the very least,” Ben mused as he set his clasped hands in his lap. “And definitely more than he lets on.”

A crooked smile adorned my lips. “So what does he know that I don’t?”

“You mean where we’re going?” he teased as his eyes twinkled at me. “Didn’t I tell you? We’re going to see my mother.”

I gave a nod. “Yes, but where is she?”

“At the destination to which we’re traveling.”

I folded my arms over my chest and snorted. “Always the mystery man, aren’t you?”

“I try to make your life interesting.”

My eyes flickered down to his shirt. “I hope you’re not keeping any more insane nobleman’s sons in your sleeve.”

“Only on special occasions, but we’ll be there soon.”

We rolled through the cobblestone streets and into a neighborhood of stone buildings that more resembled miniature fortresses than homes and shops. The road was bumpy and winding, and the further we traveled in that medieval district the taller and more imperious the buildings became until they towered over our little carriage.

The structures occupied larger and larger plots, and many were surrounded by low stone walls. They reminded me of giant mausoleums, and the empty streets added to the effect. Ferox rolled us up to one of the tallest and most imposing buildings. A low wall surrounded its acre-sized plot, and each corner of the interior wall was adorned with a gigantic tree that resembled oaks.

The structure itself was round with a huge glass dome on top. High, narrow windows were evenly spaced with one row above the other. The entrance was a pair of large wooden doors that featured carved scenes of women with their hands raised to a moonlit sky. Smaller rectangular buildings with single-sloped roofs were attached on either side to the round building.

Not a thing stirred as Ferox stopped the carriage in front of the gap in the wall. Ben hopped out and offered me his hand. “Welcome to the Covenant.”

I lifted my eyes to the high structure and lifted an eyebrow. “This looks a little. . .bleak.”

He chuckled as he led me up the stone path to the doors. “The more welcoming living quarters are in the rear. My mother should be in the main chapel, however, with the other sisters.”

My mind caught up to what Ben had said, and I whipped my head around to face him. “Did you say convent or covenant?”

“Covenant,” he told me as we reached the door. “My mother is charged with managing a horde of hexers.”

Some of the color drained from my face. “Isn’t hexing bad?”

He rapped loudly on the door. “Very little magic is inherently bad. Only the way it’s used can be bad.”

One of the portals opened and a spinster stuck her head out. She wore a flowing black robe, and her long gray hair was tied in a braid that trailed down her back. The old woman wore spectacles perched atop her beaked nose, but she still squinted at us. “What’s wanted?”

Ben offered her a smile. “An interview with my mother, Lady Forsythe.”

She leaned in closer and her eyes widened. “Why, little Benny!” I nearly burst out laughing. “Why in the world haven’t you visited sooner?”

He nodded down at me. “Some complications arose, but is my mother available?”

“Of course she is!” Forsythe assured him as she opened the door and stepped to one side. “She’ll be delighted to see you, as will all the girls.”

We stepped into the brilliantly lit interior. The glass dome provided direct sunlight, as did the windows, and illuminated a circular nave with a single aisle. Wide, hard wooden benches on either side were softened by plush pillows on their seats. At the end was not an altar or podium, but a statue of a woman with her head bowed and her hands clasped together in front of her. She was robed similarly to Forsythe, though a shroud covered all of her face. Doors on either side of the room led to the offshoot buildings I had noticed outside.

A gaggle of some dozen women were seated in the two front rows of pews with their hands raised to the ceiling. A soft green light emanated from their palms and stretched upward in thin strands of brilliance. The strings of light intertwined and floated through the glass dome where it dissipated into the air.

The leader of the coven was a woman who stood before the matronly statue. She wore a black cloak with a hood that covered all but the bottom half of her face. Unlike the others, her hands were pressed together in front of her in perfect imitation of the statute at her back. I could hear a few soft prayers murmur from her lips.

Forsythe pressed a finger to her mouth and gestured to one of the rear pews. Ben and I took a seat, and she scurried back to join the others where she, too, raised her hands in supplication. I cast a questioning look at my guide and my eyes darted to the praying women, but he shook his head.

After a few minutes, the leader stopped her prayers and dropped her hands to her sides. The others did the same with many sounds of relief.

“My goodness, but I think I’m getting older,” one of the women spoke up as she rubbed her arms. “That isn’t as easy as it used to be.”

One of her companions farther down the pew leaned forward to catch her eye. “You’re telling me. My arm’s cramped up.”

Another in the front row turned around and gave her a disapproving look. “Did you remember to take your medicine this morning to prevent that?”

The cramp suffered wrinkled her nose. “That filth isn’t fit for an animal, much less a woman like me.”

“But that’s exactly who it’s for,” the other one scolded her.

“Ladies.”

The voice was gentle, but as sharp as a knife. It cut through the burgeoning argument and silenced all the parties as they looked ahead.

The person who spoke was the hooded figure. The woman drew back her hood and revealed herself to be about fifty, but her beauty softened the effects of her few wrinkles. Her bright smile, too, diminished her age as her bright blue eyes fell on me. “It appears we have company.”