The Mage in Black
Page 5

“Oh,” Maisie said, looking at me. “Do you need to borrow some clothes?”
I eyed her long skirt tie-dyed in rainbow colors and the pink peasant blouse. Apparently, our genetic similarities didn’t extend to fashion sense. “No, it’s okay. I’ve got clothes in the car.”
“It’s really no problem,” she said. “In fact, I insist.”
I started to protest again, but she pushed me toward the door. I looked back over my shoulder for help, but Adam nodded encouragingly. “I’ll go tell the rest of the council to assemble for the rites.”
“Rites?” I said, suddenly feeling like I’d gotten in way over my head. Maisie was now pulling me down the hall.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “It’s just a basic cleansing ritual to rid you of the bad vampire karma.”
“Vampire karma?”
She ignored the question in my voice and stopped at a door to another room. This door was sky blue with billowy white clouds painted all over it.
Maisie opened the door and I caught my breath. Multicolored murals filled every available inch of wall space—even the ceiling. There seemed to be no unifying theme to any of the images. Instead, it was like looking at schizophrenia in paint form.
“Wow,” I said, not sure what else to say. It’s not that I didn’t like it. I just couldn’t figure out what this said about my sister’s mental state.
“It’s a bit busy, huh?”
“I think it’s beautiful,” Giguhl said, looking up at Maisie with adoring cat eyes.
I ignored the little bald traitor and turned slowly to take in the whole room. “This must have taken you a long time.”
She chuckled. “You have no idea. This mural is based on a vision I had several years ago.”
I turned to look at her. “What does it mean?”
She shrugged, rubbing Giguhl under the chin. “I’m still trying to figure it out.” She touched an area depicting a cardinal and blue jay flying together. “Painting helps me decipher the messages of my visions. Sometimes they’re straightforward images of future events. Other times they’re like riddles I have to solve. But this one has been harder to translate than most.”
I looked around at the swirls of color and the images of clocks, birds, golden lotuses, and dozens of other random symbols. When no meaning jumped out at me, I changed the subject. “The painting you were working on when I arrived, was that from a dream, too?”
She smiled. “No. That was your portrait.”
I frowned at her, recalling that the painting in question was nothing but a bunch of red swirls and splotches mixed with some black and white in places. “I thought portraits usually involved, you know, faces.”
She smiled as if about to explain something to a child. “No, I mean a portrait of your essence.”
“Huh?”
“One of my strengths is color magic. Everyone has a dominant color influencing their lives. It represents several things about their true selves. I use paint to show the true nature of people.”
“And my essence color is red?”
“Definitely. Red represents boldness, aggression, impulsiveness, high energy, and extremes of opinion.”
The cat snorted. “That’s her, all right. Although you forgot stubborn.”
I glared at the cat, promising retribution with my eyes. “What color are you?” I asked Maisie.
“I’m a blue.” Before I could ask what that meant, she changed the subject. “Allrighty.” She looked me over and tapped a finger against her lips. “I’m thinking red.”
She set Giguhl on the bed gently. He stretched before curling up in a ball on her pillow and falling asleep. Maisie turned back to me and mumbled a few foreign-sounding words.
My skin started tingling like I was covered in static electricity. I looked down and gaped. The blue jeans and leather jacket were gone, and a long red dress took their place. I turned to look in a mirror on the back of Maisie’s door. The straps of the gown were twisted and fell into a deep V-neck. The fabric fell away in loose folds under another twisted band of fabric at the Empire waist.
“I can’t wear this,” I said, panicking a little at the sight of me looking so… feminine. I didn’t do dresses as a rule. Not only did the skirts trip me up during a fight, but dresses also tended to make weapon concealment an issue.
“Sure you can. Everyone wears chitons to meetings, it’s a tradition from our days back in Athens.”
“But still,” I said. “Can’t I just wear something a little less girlie?”
“I’m afraid the council is pretty strict about our rituals,” she said. “Would you prefer another color?”
I shook my head. “No, the color is fine.” The deep red fabric was the color of blood fresh from the vein, so that was something.
I heard a rustling behind me and turned to see Maisie standing before me in a dress almost identical in style to my own. Hers was a soft robin’s egg blue with a golden rope crisscrossing her midsection. The sudden change surprised me, and I mentally lectured myself that I needed to get used to this, since I was going to be around mages all the time now.
“You’re going to have to teach me how you do that.”
Maisie adjusted the dress as she looked in the mirror. “Don’t worry. You’ll get started on your training soon enough.” She smiled. “You ready?”
A quick knock sounded on the door and Adam stuck his head in. “The council’s assembled,” he said to Maisie. Then his gaze landed on me. He went still, only his eyes moving as he looked me up and down. “Um.”
My cheeks heated, and I suddenly felt naked. I resisted the urge to cover myself and put my chin up instead. “What?”
His eyes lifted to mine and he cleared his throat. “Nothing. I just haven’t ever seen you in a dress before.”
“Doesn’t she look great?” Maisie said.
A smile lifted the corner of Adam’s lips. He nodded in response to Maisie but kept his eyes on mine. “Amazing.”
I took a moment to look him up and down, too. He wore a shorter version of the chiton Maisie and I both wore. His was black with a golden thunderbolt embroidered over his heart. The chiton’s design showed off his golden skin and well-muscled arms and legs. Never had a dress looked so utterly masculine, and I had a sudden urge to know what he was wearing underneath that skirt.
A tingle of sexual awareness had me shifting uncomfortably. But the question of Adam’s undergarments made me realize something else—I wasn’t wearing anything under my own chiton. “Hey, where are my weapons?”
Maisie shrugged. “They’re with your other clothes.”
“Mundane weapons aren’t allowed at rituals,” Adam said.
I sent him a pitying look. “You’re funny.” With hands on hips, I turned to Maisie. “Give them back.”
Maisie raised her hands in a diplomatic gesture. “You’re going to be surrounded by family, Sabina. No one is going to attack you.”
“She’s right, Red,” Adam said quietly.
“Need I remind you that my own grandmother staked me less than a week ago? No offense, but I’m having trouble feeling safe among family right now.”
Adam sighed deep from within his chest. “Honestly, Sabina? Even if you had a weapon, you wouldn’t stand a chance. Most of the mages waiting in that room could disarm you with a passing thought.”
“Oh, that makes me feel tons better. Thanks.”
Maisie came forward and put a hand on my arm. “Sabina, I know this is difficult for you. But I swear on the grave of our father that no one will harm you here.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but Adam caught my attention. With his eyes, he pleaded with me to drop it. I glanced at Maisie, who looked anxious. With a deep sigh, I nodded. I might not have known Maisie well enough to trust her yet, but I trusted Adam. “Fine, but I’ll expect them back the minute this is done.”
Maisie looked relieved and grabbed my hand. A tingle passed between our palms. Her expression went all serious. “I know you’ve sacrificed a lot to come here. But never doubt you made the right decision. This is where you belong.”
That remained to be seen, but even I wasn’t rude enough to rebuff Maisie’s obvious sincerity. Not knowing what to say, I simply nodded.
A bright smile lifted her lips. “Good. Now that that’s settled, you ready to go meet the Hekate Council?”
I let my breath out in a rush. I wasn’t ready for any of this, but that never stopped me before. “Can’t wait,” I lied.
3
Getting to the council chambers required another elevator ride. When the doors opened in the basement of the building, I caught my breath. Instead of the stately meeting room I’d been expecting, the space looked like someone had dropped a hippie commune in the middle of the Senate. The place reeked of sandalwood and patchouli.
The elevator opened at the top of the room. Below, steps led down between row after row of coliseum seating. The seats were covered in colorful cushions, spread about like confetti. And standing among the rows were hundreds of mages dressed in chitons of every color imaginable.
At the bottom of the stairs, an open area that looked like the stage held a long table covered in colorful scarves. Behind it, five mages dressed in white chitons stood and watched our approach. It appeared that the white chitons were reserved only for members of the council, since I didn’t see any among the crowd. I only recognized one of the members. After our disastrous mission at the Dominae’s vineyards, Orpheus had arrived to help bring the bodies of the dead mages home. We’d only talked for a moment then, but he seemed nice enough.
After a moment of silence—the kind that usually follows a record scratching to a stop—the whispers and pointing began.
“That’s her!”
“She’s here!”
“Praise Hekate for bringing her home!”