Salt of the earth
Power of life
I shape you
I make you mine
We become one.
I pictured the tiny, individual salt grains. I let my energy flow out and around them so it was like I had no boundaries in my body anymore. I was part of everything, and because I was part of everything, I could affect everything.
A minute later I opened my eyes. Thais looked like someone had just smacked her upside the head. She stared at the table, then up at me. She scooted her chair back, leaned over Q-Tip, and looked beneath the table for hidden wires or magnets.
“It’s just salt,” I told her. “It’s not, like, metal shavings. Not a lot can affect it. Except magick.”
She looked at the table again, where a round happy face made of salt smiled at her.
“Of course,” Petra said dryly, “magick also has larger, more important purposes. But that was just one small demonstration of what we call power. I don’t think Michel knew your mother was a witch. He himself was not. And I tell you all this to set the stage, to help explain why I acted as I did.
“Our family can trace its line back more than a century,” Nan said. “And since the very beginning, it’s had an issue with twins.”
“What?” I’d never heard that before. “An issue?”
“Yes,” Nan said. “In our line, twins are special because they can join their magick to become very powerful—much more powerful than any other two people using their magick together. Identical twins who know what they’re doing can have a great deal of power indeed.” Nan met my eyes, then Thais’s. “Even a dangerous amount of power.”
This was the most interesting thing I’d heard in ages. I looked at Thais speculatively, wondering how long it would take to get her up to speed magick-wise.
“So people in our line fear twins,” Nan went on, and I frowned. “More than once, a set of identical twins has used their combined power not for good, but for dark purposes. They caused destruction, disaster, and death. The most recent time was about two hundred years ago.”
“Were they crazy, to use it for evil?” I asked. Seeing Thais’s face, I explained, “Any magick you put out into the world comes back to you threefold. So anyone with half a brain is careful to use their force only for good. Anyone who uses magick for a dark purpose is risking having hellfire come down on them.”
“Yes,” Nan agreed. “And hellfire did come down on them, their families, their communities, with disastrous consequences. This happened not only once, but at least three times in our history. So even today, in the twenty-first century, our people are wary of twins. More than wary—afraid. And fear makes people dangerous. When your mother gave birth that night, almost eighteen years ago, to twins, identical girls, I instantly knew that you would face prejudice, fear, persecution, and even danger from people afraid of you.”
“But—I mean, how many of you are there? Why couldn’t we have just moved someplace else and grown up normally? How many people would even know about us and would care enough to actually try to hurt us?” Thais shook her head. “I still don’t get it.”
“Of people who practice Bonne Magie, of course it’s hard to know an exact number,” said Nan. “I believe there are roughly twenty thousand or so. Maybe six thousand in America, more in France and other parts of Europe. Maybe eight thousand in Canada.”
“That still doesn’t seem like that many,” Thais argued. “ There’re two hundred and ninety-five million people in America.”
“Comparatively, it’s not,” Nan agreed. “But you don’t need huge numbers for a group of people to wield a great deal of influence and for their powers to stretch over far distances. Our particular famille, with less than a thousand hereditary witches, all grew up with the cultural fear of our kind having twins.”
“So you split us up,” I said. “Voilà, no more twins.”
“Did my dad know?” Thais asked.
Nan seemed uncomfortable. She shook her head, looking sad, remembering. “Your mother knew, of course. That’s another reason she came to me. She was afraid for you, even before you were born. She kept you a secret from everyone, even me, even your father, until the night she had you. That night, she begged me to keep you safe. Thais, you were born just before midnight, and Clio, you were born just after midnight. That’s why you have different birth dates. And then, with her dying breath, Clémence made me promise to do everything within my power to keep you safe.”
Thais’s eyes were brimming with tears. Seeing that made my own eyes fill.
Nan went on. “When I found out that Michel didn’t know there was more than one baby, I didn’t know what to do. Then—something went wrong during the delivery. Even if Clémence had been in a hospital, nothing could have saved her. It all happened so fast. But she had a minute, and she knew she was dying, and she begged me to save her daughters.”
Nan cleared her throat and took a sip of tea. Thais’s tears were running down her cheeks. I wiped my own eyes and swallowed the lump in my throat.
“I had no time to think.” Nan took a strand of hair and tucked it back into her long braid. “Michel was waiting in the next room. Clémence had just died, and I would have to call the police, the hospital.” I couldn’t even imagine what that night had been like for her.
“And I had these two infants, wrapped in blankets,” Nan said. “So I hid one, and I called Michel in and placed the other in his arms. In that one instant, he gained a daughter and lost his lover. I never mentioned the other baby or the twin curse. I told him where to take the baby for her to be checked out. I told him where they would take Clémence and about the arrangements he would need to make. He was shocked and heartbroken, and never have I felt sorrier for any human being than I did that night for Michel, holding his daughter, mourning his lost love.”
Now I was crying too, for the young parents I had never known, for how painful it must have been for Nan, for myself, losing a mother, father, and sister all in one night. And for Thais, because she had lost her mother, grandmother, and sister in one stroke too.
“That was in Boston,” said Nan. “Within a week, I had closed my midwifery practice and moved with Clio to New Orleans.” She put her hand on mine. “I had a birth certificate made for you, and then you were mine. And though it absolutely broke my heart in two, I didn’t leave my forwarding address with Michel, and I threw his information away. I didn’t want to take any chances that one of our famille would discover you and perhaps make their own plans for ensuring that you never have a chance to wreak your powers of destruction.”
“But then why am I here?” Thais cried, her voice broken with tears. “What’s happened?”
“Obviously someone has found out,” said Nan, an edge of steel underlying her calm voice. “Which leads me to ask: how did your father die, and who do you live with now?”
Thais blinked, trying to gather her thoughts. “Uh, Dad died in an accident,” she said, taking a tissue from the box on the table. “He got hit by a car that jumped the curb.” For a moment she frowned, thinking, as if something was just occurring to her, but then her face cleared and she went on. “Then in court I thought I was going to go live with Mrs. Thompkins, who was our best friend, like a grandmother to me. But Dad’s will gave me to an old friend of his, who I’d never even heard of.”
“Who?” Nan said, her fingers tightening around her glass.
“Her name is Axelle Gauvin,” Thais said, and Nan’s glass tipped, spilling tea. I saw Thais’s eyes narrow slightly as I jumped up to get a dish towel. Tea and ice had spilled on Q-Tip, and he leaped down in disgust and trotted into the other room.
“So I take it you’ve heard of Axelle Gauvin?” I said dryly as I moped up spilled tea.
“Yes,” Nan said grimly. “She’s from our line, our original line. Her ancestors and mine were in the same famille.”
“She’s a relative?” Thais asked intently.
“Not by blood,” Nan said. “It’s more like a clan. Many
people came here from Canada, of course. Many of them are now called Cajuns. But our particular group had fifteen families. Clearly, Axelle knows about you and Clio. She’s brought you here for a reason.”
Thais looked stricken. “That’s what I’ve been worried about. How did she know when my dad died? How did she get to have me? And then both of you do magick—” Thais’s chin trembled. “Oh God,” she said faintly, sounding near tears. “Did she kill my dad?”
“Axelle is a lot of things, but a murderer? I have to say I don’t think she could do it,” said Nan firmly. “You’ve been safe with her this far. No one’s tried to harm you, have they?”
Thais frowned, thinking. “Not really, no.” She shook her head. “Do you know Jules and Daedalus too?”
Nan nodded.
“ They’re over at Axelle’s a lot,” said Thais. “They’re a little creepy, but no one’s ever tried to hurt me. In her own way, Axelle seems kind of concerned about me. She gave me a cell phone. Oh, and one night—I had a bad dream. Axelle did spells in my room after that.”
For several minutes we sat there, each of us lost in thought. This was a lot of stuff to take in. Now I understood why Nan had freaked about Thais and why she’d put all the protection spells on the house and yard. I wondered if I had to go back to school today and if there was any way I could sneak over to see Andre instead.
“I think for now, it’s safe for you to stay at Axelle’s,” Nan decided. “I’ll talk to her, and then we should consider your living here.”
Thais’s face lit up just as I felt mine shut down. There was no room here for Thais. I mean, she was okay, and she was my sister, but this was all happening too fast.
“But for right now, stay at Axelle’s. Keep your eyes and ears open; be extra careful, extra cautious,” said Nan. “And I also think it would be safer if you started learning some magick. It would help you protect yourself.”
“Uh ...” Thais looked less than thrilled at this idea.
“Now I’m going to take you both back to school,” said Nan. “I’ll write notes so you won’t have any trouble. Clio, you come straight home after school, and Thais, you go straight to Axelle’s, understand?”
I somehow avoided making a face. I would run home after school, drop off my books, change, and go see Andre.
Then Nan hugged me and Thais in turn. “Despite everything, I am very glad to have you two reunited again. I’m so happy to see both of you at once, to know both of you. We’re a family, and once we get this sorted out, it will all seem much better.”
Thais
“What?” I whispered.
Sylvie gave an embarrassed smile and propped her workbook up so the study hall monitor wouldn’t see us talking. “Sorry. I don’t mean to stare. It’s just—I’ve known Clio for three years, and now I know you, and you guys are so different. I mean, I was never good friends with Clio or anything. But still, you look so much alike, but you’re really nothing alike.”
“We dress differently,” I said. Being back at school after my X-Files morning was weird, but school felt safer and more familiar than the rest of my life.
“It’s more than that,” Sylvie said. “You’re just really nice.”
I winced. “Ouch.”
She grinned. “Not goody-goody nice. But not a user, you know? I’m not saying Clio’s mean, exactly. She’s never been mean to me. But she’s always been one of the really popular girls. Girls want to be her, and guys want to date her, and she knows it. And she gets into it.” Sylvie stopped, as if she’d just realized she was talking about my sister and didn’t want to hurt my feelings.
I thought about my life back in Welsford. I had been one of the popular girls, and guys had asked me out. I knew people had thought I was pretty. In a way, I hadn’t known how pretty I was until I had seen Clio. I saw her and how people reacted to her, and I realized they would react to me that way too. Was that what Luc saw? I thought again of his kiss for the nine-millionth time that day. Even at Petra’s, hearing about my family’s unbelievable past, I had thought of him again and again. What would happen the next time I saw him? Was I ready for it?
“What are you thinking about?” Sylvie asked behind her hand.
“Oh—just, back home, you know,” I said, putting Luc out of my mind before I blushed. “It was so different than it is here. My school was really small, and we’d all started together in kindergarten, and no one was all that much better or worse than anyone else. So being pretty or popular didn’t really get you anywhere.” École Bernardin was about ten times bigger than my last school had been, and even on my second day I could see clear tiers of social strata. Clio and her friends were at the top.
I wondered where I would end up.
Axelle was waiting for me at the door of the apartment, pacing and smoking. I came in and our eyes met, a world of knowledge passing between us.
“Petra called me,” she said.
I walked past her and dumped my backpack in my room, then came out into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of seltzer. Finally, practically trembling, I faced her. Despite what Petra had said, I had to ask Axelle myself.
“Did you kill my father?” My voice was like ice. I’d never heard it sound like that.
“No.” Axelle frowned. “I didn’t even know him.”
“ Then how did I end up with you?” I yelled, taking us both by surprise.
Axelle looked defensive. “We . . . kept in touch with your father because of Clémence,” she said. “When he died . . . unexpectedly, we thought it would be best if you came here, where you have people in your famille. I admit I pulled a few strings after your father died. It was important that I get you here. And really, don’t you agree it’s in your best interest? Aren’t you glad you met your sister? And your . . . grandmother?”
“Of course,” I said with gritted teeth. “But you did all this behind my back. And if I hadn’t run into Clio at school, I still wouldn’t know about my sister and grandmother. When were you planning to tell me?”
Axelle took a moment. I could practically see the mental gears turning. “The less you know, the safer it is for you,” she said. “Of course I would have told you—when the time was right. You just found out a little sooner is all. Eventually, everything will be clear.”
“So you’re a witch too?”
“Of course,” said Axelle. “Just as you are.”
I ignored that. “You’re part of the same famille as Petra?” I tried to pronounce the French word as I’d heard Petra say it.
Axelle looked at me consideringly, her black eyes thoughtful. “Yes. The same as you.”
“What about Jules and Daedalus?”
“Yes.”
“Even that kid Richard, the goth guy? He’s a witch?”
“Yes.”
“Petra knows all of you?”
Axelle nodded.
“And you’ve always known Clio?”
“No. I saw her once, from a distance. But none of us know her, and she doesn’t actually know any of us.”
“So what’s going to happen now?” I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at her.
Axelle’s face seemed to close, and it was like I could actually see emotions shutting down. “Nothing. Business as usual. No huge fireworks or anything. Listen, I’m going upstairs for a while. Later we’ll order in Chinese.” She turned on her spiked heel and went into the main room. I heard the door open and then the click of her sandals on the wooden steps. She didn’t know I’d been up there. I had my secrets too.
An image of Luc flitted through my thoughts, and I got up to go to the garden. But just as I opened the front door, a thunderstorm blew in from out of nowhere. I’d gotten used to this happening almost every day, sometimes twice a day. One minute it was sunny, the next it would be literally black outside, with rain falling so hard and thick that you literally couldn’t see through it. Not even Connecticut nor’easters came close to a regular New Orleans summer storm.
Inside the apartment it was
dark and cool. Outside it was pouring, with lightning and thunder. I sighed. We’d probably lose power soon. Since I’d lived here, we’d lost power maybe five times already. Just for a few minutes or an hour, but it was still disconcerting to have everything suddenly shut down.
An instantaneous boom! of thunder and a blinding flash of lightning that made the courtyard glow made up my mind for me. I closed the door. Back in my room I lay on my bed, listening to the buckets of rain drumming on the low roof over me. It was oddly soothing, comforting, and despite thunder that reverberated inside my chest and lightning that made the world go white, I actually fell asleep.
We Have a Full Treize
Ouida Jeffers parked her small rental car in a pay lot and walked the last two blocks to Daedalus’s rented apartment. The heavy rain had stopped, and now thin curtains of steam rose from the cobbled streets. She didn’t know how he could stand the French Quarter. It was always loud, always crowded, and there was no place to park. Years ago it had been lovely, much less touristy, more charming and authentic. But that had been a long time ago.
Ouida double-checked the apartment number and rang the bell.
“Yes?” a voice called from the upstairs balcony, and Ouida backed up into the street so he could see her. “Ouida!” said Jules, pleasure lighting his face. “I’ll buzz you up!”
Ouida pushed the door when it buzzed and walked up the beautiful, floating staircase that curved around the courtyard to the second story. Jules had looked strained, she thought. He often did. He put so much pressure on himself.
As Ouida reached the landing, a tall wooden door opened, and Jules came out to hug her.
“Long time, old friend,” he said, and she nodded into his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“What’s going on?” Ouida said in a low voice, but Jules didn’t answer, just led her into the front parlor. Ouida looked around. Daedalus had always had impeccable taste. This apartment’s balconies overlooked Chartres Street, with huge Boston ferns shielding the view a bit. Inside, graceful Empire furniture created an elegant, old-fashioned ambience. The whole effect was light, airy, and whispered old money.