 
# Queen Witch

## J.R. Pearse Nelson
_For my husband and our darling girls._

_The safe harbor and playful spirit of such a family is a blessing beyond words._
Copyright © 2013 by J.R. Pearse Nelson

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

* * *

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### Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

About the Author

# Chapter One

"Wren, take it easy!" I shouted to my sister over the howling winds that whipped along the rock-studded beach and stirred the crashing waves into froth.

Instead, my twin threw all of her power against me, knocking aside the rock I'd held there for her, hovering in mid-air despite the fierce wind. I scowled, but played along, raising rock after rock as she dashed them back to the earth.

Wren's expression was a mirror of my own as we faced off. We were identical, on the surface, even if we had little in common outside the physical. The wind had already stripped strands of Wren's long dark hair out of the braid I'd done for her not half an hour ago. Deep gray clouds studding the horizon spoke of a rainstorm on the way.

Finally, Wren threw one of the stones _far_. It flew past me, into the waves. I made sure not to gape; she loved to show her superior strength in these games, and I wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of knowing it bothered me.

"My turn." I told her, watching the trail behind her for any sign of movement. If the aunts caught us at it, we'd be days recovering from the pile of chores that would result. Since we hadn't started twin school, we were supposed to use our powers sparingly. Too many twins explored their powers in dangerous ways without the proper training and ended up dead before they could be of any service to the Lady at all. But tell that to a pair of fourteen-year-olds who could move matter with their minds. We couldn't resist.

Wren raised a boulder first. A bead of sweat rolled down her temple as she concentrated her energy on the single rock. Instead of doing as she'd done, I twisted it, raising my own rock and beating it against the boulder, attempting to dislodge it and send it back to sea or sand. One rock wasn't enough, so I was in the middle of raising an army of rocks – not one of my better ideas – when we were interrupted.

A ball of white fur hurtled toward us. The dog had gotten pretty close before I noticed it, and Wren's back was to it. It started barking before I could warn her, a sharp yip that made Wren jump. She dropped the boulder, which shattered into two pieces as it hit the rocks below. I stared at it for a split second. Breaking rocks. Now _that_ was cool.

I didn't have time to say anything before Wren twisted to face the dog, now a scarce ten feet from her. She threw up a hand and a wave of sand and rock lifted the dog off its feet, and sent it flipping through the air.

It was then that I noticed a man running toward us from farther down the beach, obviously coming after his dog. He stopped, confused, when he saw Wren's action. I couldn't be sure what he thought he saw, but I let out a little shriek that alerted Wren to his presence. If there was any rule that governed our lives, it was _don't use powers around strangers_.

The dog landed on all fours and gave a final yip before scurrying off with his tail between his legs and his ears flat against his head.

I grabbed Wren's hand, holding tight despite her protest, and ran toward the wooded trail. I expected to hear the man yell behind us, but if he said anything at all, the wind tore the words away before they reached my ears.

Around a bend in the trail I slowed and dropped Wren's hand angrily. She clasped her hands together and looked at the ground. She could tell I was mad, but I knew she had no idea why. That frustrated me even more.

"Wren! You cannot lash out like that with your power. Don't you know you could hurt somebody?"

"It was a dog. An annoying dog," she told me resentfully.

"Did you see the man running toward us?" I didn't even have to ask. "Wren. We've been over this. We're not even supposed to use our powers like that around the aunts, much less around a stranger. You can't act like that. We don't own the beach, you know."

"We were there first."

"No matter. If you can't control yourself, I'm not playing." I stalked off, too upset to say more right now. I might say something I'd regret. Not that my sister would notice. She could be selfish, not to mention dangerously out of control. Our temperaments were polar opposites. My sister was quiet, shy, and didn't care for people. In fact, as she'd just shown, she could be dangerous. It wasn't that Wren actively disliked people; it was that _she didn't care_. Another person's joy, or their pain, never really got through to her.

I stayed ahead of Wren the whole way home, taking our usual path alone. I don't know if she trailed me or took another route. Sometimes I got tired of caring. She could find her own way home. She was capable of that much.

I strolled by my friend David's house, but didn't see any signs of life no matter how slow I walked. I hadn't seen him in weeks, which was unusual for the summer months. His family lived in the city, but came to their coastal cabin for many weekends, regardless of the time of year. In the summer even more so, as his mom exchanged the heat of city sidewalks for the serenity of a beachfront paradise, taking her kids along. David's mom always dressed in flowery prints, bright and sunny, just like her smile. David was lucky; his family was nice. Normal.

I'd known David since I was six. When he stayed at his family's cabin, we had a secret way to exchange messages, and several secret places we loved to meet.

I hoped he'd be back soon. I was getting lonely with no one but my twin for company. You might think that would be enough, a twin to share everything with. I loved my sister, but sometimes she wasn't great company. And I had no normal friends, not the way most kids my age had friends, from what David said. I didn't go to school. A cousin who lived in the cliff-top house with us home schooled Wren and me. We didn't really see anyone besides cousins, aunts and uncles. Some of the cousins were close to our age, but none of them were twins. That set us apart, in our family.

Among the Queen witches twins were precious and saved for the family's immortal patron. Twins like us were raised to serve the Lady, as her Hands. In some ways, my twin was the only person I was taught to rely on. Our duality shaped our world and our obligations. I was only a kid and already I'd noticed that. The rest of the family held us apart, somewhat reverently, but that didn't help children who just wanted to get in on their cousins' games.

I continued along the small winding road toward home, a chill running through me when I considered what had almost happened on the beach. Wren had almost hurt someone. Would she ever learn caution? Would I always have to remind her to control her emotions, and her power? Would I always be there when she needed reminding?

These thoughts woke a fear that had long lived under my skin. What would the Lady do if she knew how Wren sometimes lost control and struck out with her power? The Queen witches hid their powers from the world. We lived outside of everything, having only as much contact with the mainstream as necessary. We didn't mix, it was just too dangerous.

The Lady made her family from distinguished magical bloodlines, adopting and even rescuing witches as they were persecuted across the centuries and around the world. Regular people didn't understand witches; especially witches bred to their powers like thoroughbred horses to the race.

I couldn't sleep that night. I kept seeing the little dog flying through the air, kept wondering what would have happened if I hadn't been there, if Wren had been alone on that beach with the dog and the stranger. Would my sister have unleashed her power on the man as well?

I went outside. The rain lashed down, nearly horizontal with the driving wind. It wasn't uncommon for winds at Cape Foulweather to reach a hundred miles per hour. The current storm had nothing on the scary storms.

The weather suited my mood. My hair whipped around my face as I sat in one of my favorite spots, under an awning wrapped around with trellises and vines. The bower, we called it. The large swing always made me feel like I was getting a hug when I sat back on its deep bench.

Alone in the storm, I cried for my sister. The fear welled up, and for a while I let it swallow me whole. I was a ragged mess when Aunt Hope found me. I had no idea how she'd known I was outside, but I was grateful.

"Sage." Her tone was filled with regret. Had she expected this outburst? As she sat next to me I realized she'd brought a thick blanket.

"I couldn't sleep."

"No wonder. It sounds as if your heart is ripping out, all alone out here. Sweetie, do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't know if I can. You might not want to know what I'm thinking."

She scooted closer, until she could wrap her arms around me. I sighed, but it came out a choked gasp. She just held me close and rested her head against mine. She smelled good, like cedar and lavender, but subtle, as though the smell came from her skin. She always smelled good. Cedar and lavender were my comfort smells for a reason.

She didn't press, just sat with me in silence. The storm abated somewhat, and the wind no longer whipped at our hair. We watched the weather for a time, measuring the night in raindrops and the occasional glimpse of a half moon.

Finally I spoke, my voice muffled where I'd turned into her embrace.

"Wren is dangerous." I stopped there, and was relieved to feel an answering squeeze. She'd heard me, but she didn't voice an opinion on my observation. The chill crept further into my bones. "Today on the beach she flipped out and sent a dog flying through the air. A man was running toward us, and I don't know what he saw."

She still didn't respond. I told her my heart's truth. "Aunt Hope, is this going to be my life? Trying to protect my sister, and protect everyone else from her? It's bad enough to be a twin, to have to serve when all I want is–"

She touched my lips with a finger, a clear signal to hush. I complied, seething silently, my stomach all churned up like a nest of angry snakes. The aunts would never allow the words to escape my lips, but I couldn't help these thoughts. I didn't _want_ to serve.

"It won't do to resent it, Sage. The family needs you. You are a proud Queen witch, and one who will meet her potential. Don't resent that. So many Queen witches have only their self-control. Twins practice. We train, we learn. Along the way we explore and we find ourselves more truly than the other Queens can know. Serve the Lady with joy. She does not have to make this possible for you. It is a gift.

"As to Wren's misuse of her power on the beach, I will speak with her. You are right to fear, but I have not given up hope of teaching your sister some measure of control, enough that she can serve and not be too much of a burden to you.

"Sage, do not speak of this to the Lady or to Aunt Ivy. My twin serves the Lady without question, and I don't want either of them to have reason to question Wren's...suitability."

The chill lodged firmly in my bones. What would happen if they did question her suitability?

"And another thing. You're smarter than this. Don't abuse your power. Don't stretch your limits. Remember only about half of twin sets survive to start twin school. Do you think you're so much better? You have another two years to live through without killing yourselves. Don't be a casualty of ignorance, my girl. You're the only one who can prevent that." After a lingering hug, the woman who had always been like a mother to me slid out from under the blanket and returned to the house, leaving me to my dark thoughts.

# Chapter Two

The next morning I woke up in a snit, and the day just got worse from there. Over breakfast, Aunt Ivy told us the Lady would see us in the afternoon. That cut short my plans for a solitary hike after lessons, but I didn't say anything. I was in too foul a mood to risk opening my mouth.

The Lady didn't see us often when we were children. A few times a year she would send for us, and Hope or Ivy would scurry around preparing us to visit her. A bath, scented oils and incense were all apparently necessary to erase the stink of childhood so we would not offend her immortal senses.

I didn't get it. On the one hand she wanted us to treat her like a favorite aunt, but on the other hand all of these visits built a relationship that I now understood she'd call on throughout our lives. It felt calculated, and I wondered if she realized how cold she came off. I wondered if she really cared about us at all.

None of these were sanctioned thoughts, and I spent a lot of time as a child wondering what was wrong with me that I felt this way when the rest of the family was so enamored of the Queen of Peace.

We'd seen her more regularly lately. Now that we were fourteen and had two years until twin school, it was time for her to start testing our knowledge of the basics.

The Lady lived outside the world, in more ways than one. Her dwelling was magical; the aunts called it the Realm. It could only be reached through established doors trusted to the best among her family of witches. Her Hands.

The aunts had been Hands, but they retired to raise us. That's how it worked. You served, and served...and then served some more. So many ways to serve an immortal – she had all the time in the world to think up new ones. And her Hands were just that. Anything that needed doing in the world, it's up to her Hands.

The Queen of Peace despised the modern mortal world. She couldn't stand all of the noise, the clamor of cars and construction, the din of crowds.

It seemed I was the only one who found that strange, but I wondered what good it is to be immortal, if you can't stand the world you live in.

She had no other world. She had her home, but that was not a world.

The Realm was vast, yet enclosed in the earth's breast, underground. The walls in all of the rooms were curved, painted in flaked gold. Some were odd, stretching shapes and others were perfect domes. I wondered if it was based on a man-made design, or on natural caverns. Maybe it was actually based on some sort of architecture unknown to humans.

Really, we had no idea what she was. The Lady. The Queen of Peace. Queen of the immortals, or so she told us. She was more compelling than any human could be, serene and aloof, and beautiful beyond utterance. Her icy gaze made you want to bow in submission. Her smile made you crave another. For all of our family, it was the same.

What was an immortal? Just how old was she, and how was she immortal? Was she some other race? A witch who'd achieved that ultimate power, the power to live and live forever?

She didn't talk about it. And we weren't allowed to ask. The aunts would brush aside such a question, but the fear in their eyes was telling. We weren't supposed to ask. There was a lot we weren't supposed to ask.

Some rooms in the Lady's home were filled with treasure chests. At least that's how I used to think of them. We could spend all day in one room, eating the delicate foods the Lady preferred, dressing up in the fabulously rich clothing from the chests, listening to the stories of the different artifacts we uncovered. That part was fun.

I loved the Lady's stories. They were so romantic, and I am a romantic at heart. Her stories were filled with adventure, with love and lovemaking – Wren and I blushed at these parts.

Her rooms were roughly organized by historical period, though the treasures crossed more cultures than I could count. She'd collected a history here. Today I finally asked a question that had burned inside me since we began our exploration many months before.

"My Lady, is it the history of the witches you collect here? The history of my people?"

She looked a bit taken aback, her eternally smooth brow crinkling in a frown. "Your people? Your people are my people. The witches owe me fealty after all I've done for you. You call them your people? I am your people. I am all you'll ever need. You are my witch. My Hand."

I ducked my head in submission, knowing better than to answer back. I knew my subservience would help her set aside her sudden bout of temper. Sometimes she reminded me of my sister. I was handling the Lady like I did Wren, and I struggled not to laugh. It shouldn't be funny. Both of them were immature, but Wren was fourteen. What excuse did the Lady have? I pondered that. Was it an effect of immortality...did you actually get less mature if you lived forever?

I needed to escape, at least for a moment, to compose myself. "My Lady, may I have leave to visit the bathroom?"

The Lady focused her gaze on the far wall, and a moment later her servant Yetta sauntered in. When she turned our direction, a sullen expression marred her beauty. Her dress was gold, of some shimmery fabric. It was gathered beneath her ample breasts and flowed to the floor in a cascade of scattered light. I would have loved that dress, but I'd probably never be shaped like Yetta, and it wasn't at all practical if you were expected to stay busy, as we were.

If we had any "small needs," like the bathroom, while we were with the Lady, we were handed off to one of her personal servants. Some of them liked us. Yetta, the recent favorite, wasn't one of them. She was just a few years older, and far less powerful than us.

The Lady's servants weren't chosen for their power, more likely a lack of it. Beauty moved the Lady to take a witch into her home. She loved the beautiful ones, and never tired of new beauty to appreciate. I guessed it was one of the things that made life worth living, century after unforgiving century, as her world fell away beyond her door, and changed.

So Yetta was offended any time the Lady sent her off on an errand for, or with, us. I didn't care for her either, and I knew Wren and I were worth ten of her apiece. I'd seen the Lady take witches in before. Brody was the last. His beauty had brought a flush to my twelve-year-old cheeks. He'd ruffled our hair and smiled at us, and I was so shy I couldn't say a word to him. Then, one day, he was just gone. I had never heard anyone speak of him again.

Since then I'd wondered about the Lady and her companions. They acted as servants, there was no doubt about that. But who didn't? The Lady didn't have anyone to match her, just the family of servants she'd built.

Of course, the other immortals may have matched her. There were at least three that I'd heard of. Chaos was the closest; he was the only immortal sharing North America, and the Lady despised him for that, as well as some transgression I had yet to figure out from their long history. Maybe it was more than one transgression. The Lady had trouble forgiving a transgression in the singular, much less multiples.

Wondering about the immortals achieved little. Queen witches didn't meet other immortals – the Lady kept her family well insulated from outsiders. And she kept herself insulated even from the family, behind layers of personal servants and the powerful Hands. Until we joined them, there was little to occupy my curiosity besides schoolwork and the family mysteries I saw in only small slices. I didn't yet know all it meant to be a Queen witch.

When I felt composed, I returned to find my sister at the Lady's knee, listening in rapt attention to some story or another. Wren watched the Queen of Peace with adoration, like all the other Queen witches I knew. I stood in the shadowed doorway, scuffing my toes against the stone floor.

I fought a familiar battle there in the shadows, struggling with the competing needs to be accepted by the immortal who controlled my life, and the desire to be free of the Lady and the weight of her demands. I'd never achieve freedom, but that meant I couldn't readily indulge in the Lady's acceptance, either. Instead, I held back, unlike my twin. That difference between us shouldn't make me feel betrayed, but Wren's willingness to serve the Lady meant I was along for the ride. How could I move and feel, and learn and grow – all the while knowing my life was not my own? Yet I chose a lonely path by resisting the Lady's control. Queen witches didn't resist, and they didn't _pout_ , as Aunt Ivy would surely put it. I would serve the Lady; it was the only path open to me.

One day as I walked the winding coastal road, I spied the signs of life at David's house that I'd been awaiting for weeks. I ducked my head and passed the house, hopefully unnoticed.

We were supposed to fade to the background in the neighborhood. It wouldn't do for folk to notice us. Odd things happened when we were around. Things small-town folk just don't forget. Better never to have their attention on us at all.

So when I saw David's mom in the flowerbed out front, planting a bright array of pansies, I walked around the bend and stopped behind a spruce tree. I pulled paper and pen from a pocket, and jotted down a quick note. I placed it carefully between the limbs of the spruce, in a little hollow nature had provided as our message spot. I knew David would come by later in the morning and check for one. And then he'd meet me at our cliffside hideaway.

I ran back to my house. Wren was up, and we ate breakfast together. She always slept later than me. In the early hours, while she was still in bed, I roamed free. I could meander on my own, watch the soothing waves and weather, or meet my secret friend. Melody started our lessons at nine, so before that our time was our own. The aunts had never hovered over us, not since we were small, anyhow. As soon as they could count on our self-preservation instincts, we were allowed to run all over the Cape and surrounding neighborhood.

I was the explorer. When Wren came along she mostly followed me. Other than that, she kept to herself, at home or on our property. I was far more confident and outgoing. A good thing, because with her social problems Wren would be a danger off the property by herself. And that would be just one more thing to worry about.

Wren mostly ignored me at breakfast, although she'd waited to dig in until I popped into my chair at the kitchen table. A fire burned hot in the hearth that separated the kitchen from the family room, and the smell of baking bread made my stomach rumble. I slipped my feet out of my shoes and stretched my toes against the cool stone tile, enjoying the contrast between the heat of the fire and the cool stone.

I was midway through my pile of scrambled eggs when Wren finally asked, "Find anything?"

I pulled out an agate the size of my thumbnail and set it before her. This was tradition between us. Wren was lazy and unmotivated, but that didn't mean she lacked interest in the world, the natural world anyway. She pulled the agate closer and took another bite of her eggs as she stared at it. Her eyes darted to meet mine for a split second, about as long as she ever held eye contact. A small smile. "Lovely. She's nice."

That was as good a thank you as I ever got for something I brought to brighten her day.

My impatience was obvious during lessons, enough that by the time we got to math, Melody assigned me twice as many calculations as normal. I glared. She glared back. Since I couldn't exactly argue, I got to work before I wasted any more time.

"Two sandwiches today?" she asked when I ran into the kitchen and gave her my completed assignment. Without another word she handed me a basket that I knew I'd find packed with enough lunch for two. Despite the additional math, I raised myself up on tiptoe – Melody was a tall woman – and planted a quick kiss on her cheek. She smiled without looking at me. Not quite a co-conspirator, she did know that some days I liked to take a picnic and get out for most of the afternoon. And she knew me well enough to assume this was one of those days.

I ran down the trail, taking the turn sharply. I slowed, nearing the cliff. I was pretty sure David would wait for me anyway, but it had been so long since I'd seen him, and of course I didn't know if his parents had other plans for his afternoon.

Sure enough, when I came into our nook, a sheltered little spot set back from the cliff top with a panoramic view of the ocean, which was rather calm on this particular day, there he sat. My insides lit up like a lighthouse welcoming a ship home from sea.

I loved David.

I set the picnic basket before him, and sank to the ground cross-legged, looking him over.

"Hello, Sage." He spoke softly, meeting my gaze with a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. When he really smiled he did so with his eyes.

"Hello, David." I looked at the ocean for a moment, gathering my courage to talk to him. "You were gone too long."

He laughed, a sound that sent sparkles through my soul.

Yes, I loved him. In that first innocent blush of womanhood. We'd known each other so long, I wasn't sure when my feelings had turned from those of a playful, adventurous girl to the fantasies of how his lips would feel on mine, but somewhere along the line that shift had occurred. I didn't know if it was the same for him.

He tugged a bundle from behind his back, unwrapping the paper slowly, grinning like a fool. That's how I knew he had something good.

"Books!" I squealed when I saw three Agatha Christie novels. I looked at him through wide eyes. Three hidden books would keep me busy in spare private moments for weeks. "Really?"

"Dad's been busy at work, and Tommy's doing a bunch of summer camps. We haven't been coming as often. I don't want you to get bored with me." He laughed again. As though I would grow bored with the most exciting part of my life.

"Can you show me something?" He often asked for a bit of magic, ever since I'd shown him my secret at the age of eight. I didn't begrudge him. Seeing it through his eyes, as such a delightful rarity, I couldn't deny him. In fact, I always felt better about my magic after I'd brought such wonder to his face.

I pulled his hand into my lap, and looked out to sea again. The cliff dropped more than two hundred feet before meeting the waves. I'd been working on something I knew would thrill him.

I focused on the water at the base of the cliff, crashing against the rock. I couldn't see it from where we sat, but I knew right where it was and that was all I needed. I focused on pulling it toward me, and a stream of seawater lifted on the wind to the top of the cliff, into David's hand, where I held it in my lap.

He gasped. "That's from down below? That's a long way to move something, isn't it? I haven't seen you do that before." His eyes shone with wonder, but there was something darker in his expression, too. I realized I'd scared him. Maybe he didn't want to know how vast the possibilities were with my particular gifts. Not to mention with my twin at my side.

I'd never told David of twin magic. He knew of my twin, of course, though I'd taken pains to make sure they never met. He knew Wren was just as gifted, and that she was not quite right. How could I help but share that with my secret friend? He was my only completely safe place to turn, the only one who never told me to _hush_ , and he welcomed me despite my strangeness. I saw that through his eyes, too.

Still, I don't think I'd ever scared him before that day. He was quiet after. We ate the lunch Melody had packed and watched the waves. I grabbed his hand as he moved to leave. "Tomorrow?"

"Yes. How about a walk in the woods?" Where the stunted trees formed shadows that reminded me of monsters from the lore Melody read to us. I shivered involuntarily.

"I'll see you at the trail at dawn." I smiled at him, and he smiled softly back. It didn't reach his eyes.

In the morning, he didn't show.

Over the following year I saw David only three times. The next year his family sold the cabin. He didn't even leave a note to say goodbye. I refused to think of the heartache, or to feel it. Over the lonely months I began to regard him as little more than a childhood imaginary friend. I'd obviously seen more in him than there was. So I outgrew him in my own mind, as I later did in deed.

# Chapter Three

"I don't know what to think," Aunt Hope's voice sounded muffled. I saw the wobbling stack of clothes she was about to put in a suitcase just before I ducked back into the hall. She sounded serious, and I wanted to hear what they were talking about before they put the kid gloves back on. They had a bag out, like they were packing.

"This thing with Maj–" Aunt Ivy began.

Aunt Hope cut her off, just as she was about to say something interesting, I was sure. "We'll have to see what's going on when we get there. Terrible timing; you know Isabel and Rose aren't doing well. It won't be long before we're discussing transition. It's not a good time for troubles."

"I'm just happy to get out of this house. Don't know about this 'disciplining our own' idea."

I crept to the edge of the doorway, where I could see my aunts as they spoke. What were they talking about?

"We'll have to wait and see what the Lady tells us. She'll have her plans, so we'd best not make our own, dear," Aunt Hope told Aunt Ivy, who frowned and returned to evaluating the contents of her bag.

"Sage, come in here," Aunt Ivy called. She didn't look up until I was right behind her. The light in her eyes surprised me. I'd never seen her this... _happy_ before. "So you've noticed we're packing. We're going to be gone a few days. I'm confident you girls can control yourselves while we're gone. Melody will be here to look after you. Don't tax her with pranks. Don't run off without letting her know. In our absence treat her authority as you would treat ours."

She seemed gleeful at the prospect of being rid of us for a few days. Not a problem for me. She mostly just glowered and ordered us around, anyway. I understood it better now than as a little kid. The aunts rarely had opportunities to be Hands. The last couple of years they'd been helping to train the eighteen-year-old Kalamar brothers who were now in twin school, but other than that their job was to raise us. We were their contribution to the family. The Lady honored her Hands with such a duty, but Ivy wasn't suited for it. That wasn't her fault.

"Yes, Aunt Ivy."

"Where's Wren?"

"Sleeping. I'll tell her in the morning."

Aunt Hope fidgeted, regarding her sister through narrowed eyes. I could tell she'd lost a fight, and realized she was far from comfortable with leaving us, even under Melody's care.

"We'll be fine, Aunt Hope," I told her firmly. I thrust my chin up. "We're not little kids. We're almost fifteen."

She watched me for a moment. "Don't get into trouble. The Lady wouldn't take kindly to it."

The warning was clear, but we were kids. A house empty of the aunts? Of course we'd go looking for trouble.

When they'd gone, I paced around the house for a while. Melody and my sister both slept, and I had the house to myself. I couldn't remember ever having this level of freedom before. So what to do with it?

This late at night, I couldn't think of much to do. I raided the kitchen, finding a stash of cocoa. I heated some milk and added sugar to a big mug. I added the cocoa to that and had a couple of minutes to wait before the milk would be ready. I looked at the stairs, already guilty at the track my thoughts had taken.

What was the harm?

I'd always known there were secrets in this house, and this was the perfect chance to uncover them.

A certain box called to me, all the way from Aunt Ivy's room. I recalled one time when I'd followed Aunt Hope in to find Ivy sitting on her bed with that box. When we intruded, she promptly told us to get out. Highly suspicious. The box in question sat on the top of a large bookshelf, and I had to pull over the upholstered chair by her desk to reach it. My fingertips met smooth, dark wood. Its cold exterior was firm under my hands, and for a moment I paused, uncertain. But curiosity got the best of me. I heaved it off the shelf and almost toppled from the chair under its weight. What did she keep in here?

A three-part latch met my perusal, and it took me a moment to budge it open. My eyes wide, I stared down on a fabulous assortment of jewelry, encrusted in gems. One silver chain with an emerald pendant drew my eye, and I pulled it over my head, feeling inspired.

Suddenly, I remembered my milk, and ran down the stairs to retrieve it before it scalded. My timing perfect, I mixed my cocoa with satisfaction and ascended the stairs once again. Back in Ivy's room, I couldn't decide whether it was safe to sit on her bed. Would she know I'd been in here? Instead I closed the door and hauled her box of treasures onto the floor, my cocoa within reach on the nightstand.

Back to the box.

When I lifted the lid, the jewels caught my eye first, but papers made up most of the box's contents. I touched a folded sheaf hesitantly. It wasn't that I felt guilty for intruding. My concern was getting caught. If I changed the order of anything, or folded something wrong, she might know. These papers looked old, and like they'd been handled often over the years. Were the secrets worth the risk of Aunt Ivy coming down on me like a storm surge?

Yes. Still, I felt proud of myself for displaying a healthy dose of fear. My sister would have just plowed ahead, and taken the wrath when it came.

The first letter stopped me cold. I scanned the words of passion, color deepening on my cheeks. It was a love letter. Then I got to the signature.

Briggs.

One of the male Hands. He was a good ten years Aunt Ivy's junior. Gross.

I stopped there, my entire worldview threatened. Aunt Ivy had taken Briggs as a lover. I didn't want to know what else was in the box. I hastily refolded and replaced the stolen secret, and tugged the silver chain over my head, fingering the emerald pendant once more before shutting the lid and refastening the three-part latch. I grabbed a sweatshirt and wiped the box, trying to remove any smudges on the dark wood. I carried it back to its place.

Retreating to the darkness of my own room and the gentle sound of Wren's breathing as she slept, I finished my cocoa, and crawled beneath the covers. Freedom was exhausting.

"They just left?" Wren asked, stretching her toes toward the fire the next morning.

"Yeah. They had to be somewhere."

"Where?"

"No idea." I paused. "Actually, I do have an idea. I think they went to California. Aunt Hope said something about 'they're not doing well' and I think she was talking about the old Hands, Isabel and Rose. They're like eighty. Then Aunt Ivy said something about 'disciplining our own,' but she was really just happy to be going somewhere without us."

Wren stared at her plate of pancakes, and Melody shot me a hostile glance. She spoke up, wiping her hands on her apron and touching Wren lightly on the shoulder. My sister wasn't a hugger. "Hope left me a note. They didn't have time for more. The Lady needed them elsewhere. And it is probably fun for Ivy. She always loved the missions, and she grows bored without them. That's nothing against you girls. Now let's finish our breakfast and get lessons started."

Melody did her best to match our usual routines. She gave me a talking to about the pan I'd left dirty on the stove, and the cocoa sprinkled on the counter, but at least she was good-natured about it.

Late in the afternoon, toward the end of our lessons, Melody gave each of us a lengthy writing assignment and grabbed her purse and keys.

"You girls just stay inside and complete your schoolwork. I have to run to the store." The nearest grocery store was almost twenty miles up the coast in a bigger town. "I'll be back in a bit."

Wren nudged me as soon as Melody was out the door. I knew what she was thinking; that the drive and the shopping would take more than an hour. It was the perfect opportunity to get away with...something.

"At least wait until she's out of the driveway." I shook my head. "We're sure to get caught."

For ages we'd wanted to try jumping from the two-story roof. Not jumping, exactly. The trick was to engage our powers and float down. Unfortunately, we hadn't learned that skill, not yet.

"No better way than to try!" Wren squealed. She dashed for the stairs. At the top of the flight, she pulled the cord for the attic hatch and scrambled up the ladder.

I didn't bother to argue. We'd been over this. It took both of us, and despite what our elders told us, we felt ready to try.

The attic window looked out on the sloping roof, and we carefully crept out to the edge. Nerves ran riot like hummingbirds fluttering madly in my stomach. We looked down on the lawn, with the bower between the cliff and us.

"Are you ready?" Wren asked me softly.

I answered truthfully. "Ready as I'll ever be. Let's do a test."

I stood next to her, and we extended our hands so they were nearly touching. I pressed out with my psychokinetic power, and felt a slight rebound as my power encountered the solidity of her form. Simultaneously, I felt Wren engage her power. We both rocked on our feet, but neither of us took a step. We had learned a decent degree of control. "And the roof?"

We both engaged and lifted off the rooftop until we hovered a few inches above it. If I pressed harder I'd rise farther. Engaging with Wren, our hands nearly touching, we were stable, but I knew if I tried this on my own I'd be unsteady in the air, like an astronaut without gravity. It took much better control to fly alone than with your twin.

"Now are you ready?" Wren challenged me.

In the interest of healthy sibling rivalry, I couldn't lose face. I nodded. "Ready."

We stepped off the roof, and fell. Plummeted, actually. I felt for Wren, but lost my sense of direction and couldn't tell where she was. We couldn't help each other, but at least we weren't powerless. I shoved my power hard against the ground milliseconds before I hit dirt, landing on my knees with a grunt.

Wren screamed somewhere behind me, and I turned to find her. She clutched her wrist against her body and whined.

Oh, no.

I hustled to her side and got a look at the injury. It didn't look like much, but I didn't have x-ray vision. It might be broken. She certainly wasn't moving it. She panted, her eyes wide and shocked. I clutched her shoulder and guided her inside.

"Melody will be back in an hour, max. I'm grabbing ice, and you're sitting on the couch until she gets here. We are in so much trouble!"

"Maybe I'll be okay. Maybe she won't know." Wren spoke with the optimism of the doomed. If she had to see a healer, we both knew the Lady would hear about it. And then Wren was toast.

Melody came back sooner than we expected, but Wren's wrist had already started to swell.

"What did you girls get up to? I was barely gone an hour." Melody wasn't exactly composed. Her face flushed as her mind apparently went into overdrive. She knew the repercussions of us using magic without supervision.

She ran to the telephone. I couldn't hear much besides the constant hum of her speech. I just hoped she wasn't trying to get a message to the Lady.

Wren didn't look good. She sat still on the couch looking at her wrist with abject despair.

"Into the car, girls." Melody came back in with her car keys once again in hand.

We did as we were told. I helped Wren into the back, and ran around to the passenger side.

"Where are we going?" I asked, opening my mouth despite my better judgment.

"To see a friend. A nurse."

"Not a healer?" My world rolled back onto its axis as relief coursed through me. I took a deep breath, trying not to cry.

"If it's broken, we won't be able to keep it from the Lady. So let's just see how this goes, shall we?"

She was right. A break would be obvious and require a bunch of recovery time. Even with Melody's help, we wouldn't be able to hide it from the aunts, who would never hide anything from the Lady.

We drove about twenty minutes up the coastal highway before Melody took a tight turn onto a gravel road. We passed a few houses, widely spaced, and the ocean view popped out as we came around a curve. Melody stopped at a two-story cabin, its cedar shake worn gray by salt air and storm. A nice house, typical for the area. It could have been a vacation house, but for the abundance of blooms pouring out of old barrels, and the cushioned chairs turned just so on the porch. Those things called it out as someone's home among the vacation houses.

I turned my gaze toward the ocean. A wide strip of beach spread out beyond a rocky outcropping. I could see a little stream sparkling in the distance as it wound its way over the dark gray sand to the waves.

A tall and striking middle-aged woman came out onto the porch. Melody went up the steps and the woman kissed her before waving my sister inside.

I stopped in my tracks at the sight of the kiss. It wasn't the two women thing; it was that I'd never seen Melody that way, as an individual with desires that had nothing to do with caring for us. Suddenly, I understood what she'd given up to live with us. How lonely must her life be?

That made me think of Aunt Ivy, and the secret I'd learned just last night. The Lady didn't let them love openly. They served her with everything they had. At this moment, that seemed exceedingly cruel.

It turned out Wren had sprained her wrist. Rotating ice, and heat, and wrapping the joint to avoid jolting it were Angela's recommendations. We all breathed a sigh of relief when we got back in the car. Neither Wren nor I mentioned the kiss. I wondered if my sister had even noticed.

# Chapter Four

When Ivy and Hope returned two days later, it was to retrieve us. Isabel and Rose, the family's twin matriarchs, had passed away.

It was to be one of the biggest family reunions in my lifetime. Queen witches from across the country and around the world would gather on a large farm in California to celebrate the lives of Isabel and Rose, taken by old age on the same day at eighty-six – a rare age among Hands.

The California farm was also where the Lady's Hands, Majesty and Terra, lived.

All of the Hands had agreed to arrive early, and even though we used the Lady's portals so the journey took only a few minutes, we were the last to arrive for dinner the night before the funeral.

When it was my turn I stepped up to the portal as I had many times before. The smooth, opaque surface resembled liquid glass, rippling every so often like a pond touched by a light wind. My stomach lurched as I stepped _between_ places. It felt the same every time. And it was that fast, just a step. The portal released us into a patch of woods, where a chorus of birds shouted our arrival. We took the packed-dirt path that led into the backyard of the cheerily yellow two-story farmhouse. A pang of regret stopped me in my tracks, and Wren frowned as she walked around me. Aunt Hope, however, paused to put an arm around me. "I know. It's hard."

"A moment ago, I thought..." I hiccupped as tears threatened. "I thought maybe Rose had made her chocolate chip cookies with walnuts. She knew they were my favorite."

Aunt Hope smiled, and tugged me along the path toward the house. "She was sweet. But if you stepped on her toes in her kitchen – look out!"

I giggled with her as we caught up with the others. The ache that had bloomed in my heart at seeing the bright yellow house I'd visited since I was a small child eased, at least a little bit.

Aunt Ivy led the way around the house and hastened inside, where I could hear her shout, "What smells so good? Who learned to cook?"

Wren and I grimaced in silent commiseration at her tacky sense of humor, and trudged along at the back of our group. I shut the door quietly behind me, but the noise inside was such that no one would have noticed a door slamming. The house did smell good; like apple pie fresh from the oven. Gemini, now one of the eldest Hands, darted out to give hugs before retreating to check on the food. Melody followed her, offering to help.

Maj, as she had asked us to call her, greeted us enthusiastically. Maj always seemed like she was having fun. "The Foulweather twins arrive!" she exclaimed. "Quite a name you've made for yourselves already."

"It's a place name," I reminded her. "We don't attempt to control the weather."

"That's good; it is magic beyond your age and station. But soon, my girls, you'll start twin school and we'll begin to make that name a reality."

A rush ran through me. I'd never thought of taking that name and making it my own. But she was right. I could do so. If we could shatter boulders with our minds and make an earthen storm from bare ground...the possibilities were mind-boggling.

Aunt Hope tugged Maj into a tight embrace and Terra, Maj's twin, got pulled in too. "It's so good to see you. How are you?"

I chuckled. Apparently the maternal streak ran deep. Aunt Hope treated these younger Hands like her kids, too. Despite the fact they'd just lost the eldest among them, it was obvious they were happy to be together. It was rare that they were all in the same place.

"I'm fine." Maj tried to look convincing, but I caught the guarded look that passed between them. She turned back to me. "So, only two more years until twin school!" She grinned.

"Actually, we'll be fifteen soon, so just a little more than a year."

"It'll go by in a flash. You're gonna see a lot of me when the time comes, isn't that right, Dagru?" She pointed at one of the Kalamar brothers. Dagru and his brother Arie were in the middle of twin school now. As tradition dictated, they'd lived here with the Hands who were training them since they turned sixteen. Dagru shot Maj a grin and nodded.

I couldn't help but stare at him. He was tall, with a straight nose and a strong jaw, and this complete confidence, like he could take on whatever came his way. His stylish clothes and the long, curly hair that touched his shoulders made him seem so grown up.

I felt awkward all of a sudden, and wished I'd taken more care with my appearance. People were going to be looking at me a lot, after all. Did I look like just some kid, or like I had some measure of confidence, like Dagru?

Maj turned back to me. "Whenever we're not on mission, you're the mission, kid. Twin school involves all of us. Everyone has different skills to pass along. Who knows what'll strike your fancy, or what you'll be good at."

The idea of having all of them around passing things along sounded pretty overwhelming. There were four pairs of Hands. Gemini and Garnet were the eldest now, the matriarchs of the family. The aunts, Hope and Ivy, came next.

Godwin and Briggs were the only serving male Hands, and Maj and Terra were a few years younger than the men. This made them especially valuable, because they were close enough in age that they'd grown in their powers together. A brother-set and sister-set of twins were essentially a small army, bonding in a foursome that made them even more powerful.

The Kalamars would take their vows and begin serving the Lady within two years, when they came of age. Wren and I were just four years younger than the Kalamars, and the hope was we'd bond with them as our brother-set after twin school.

There was a gaping twelve-year gap between us and the babies. They were nearing two, but we still called them the babies. We knew them from pictures – a set of tiny girls with blond ringlets and blue eyes named Iris and Mabel – but they weren't here tonight.

Dinner was really more of a feast. Roasted pheasant, grilled salmon, fresh baked bread, salads, and my favorite mashed potato casserole that Aunt Hope had brought. Sparkling wines, and ciders for us kids, flowed freely. The conversation got freer as the night wore on, too. Multiple side conversations teased my ears with half-known names and the tinge of gossip. For every snippet I caught, I missed something else.

In the cacophony, I thought of home, of my stormy cliff-top and havens in the woods and on the beach. I was suddenly glad I had more than a year before twin school. Genuine love filled this room, but I didn't feel a part of that yet.

Wren was already nodding off when Aunt Hope sent me to find Aunt Ivy. I was happy to oblige, still wired from the busy house and all the twin magic. I'd learned some nifty new tricks I couldn't wait to try out with Wren, though some of them I was more likely to try on my own first. It would just be safer that way.

With the funeral tomorrow, no one had bothered leaving the farm. The house was crowded. Hope and Ivy had been assigned a room upstairs, and Wren and I would sleep on their floor.

I heard low voices in the living room, and stepped lightly because I knew people were already sleeping.

"No. He's gone." That was Maj, her voice hitched for a moment as though she'd been crying. "Ivy, I think he got himself in some trouble and...please, if you know anything...you'd tell me, right?"

"What makes you think he's gone?" I'd found Aunt Ivy, and the icy dread spreading through my veins said I'd stumbled on more than I'd bargained for.

"It's just like the others. Moodiness, sullenness at the Lady's orders. Conflicts within the family. Then he just disappears. Ivy, you must tell me if...did the Lady..." Her voice wavered again. What could have made one of the most confident women in our family sound that way?

"I hope you're not suggesting what it sounds like you're suggesting." Ivy gave that pregnant pause she liked to use to shame Wren and me into behaving. "A Hand's son disappears? It must have been Chaos."

Chaos? The Prince among immortals who had foiled the Lady's will centuries ago? The idea they were talking about _him_ was so exciting; I craned my neck trying to hear better without drawing attention to where I stood, right outside the door. Apparently Chaos was some sort of threat or annoyance to the Lady to this day.

Chaos witches were like the antithesis of the Queen witches. They were unpredictable, utterly uncontrolled. They exploited their powers whenever and however they chose, as individuals.

Queen witches didn't dare use their powers in ways the Queen of Peace had deemed inappropriate, which mostly meant anything that could draw notice from outside authorities. The Lady's wrath would descend on them faster than they could blink an eye, in the form of a Hand sent to mete out her justice. A Queen witch's power was the Lady's to use, or not use, as she chose.

I would never tell my family, but I was conflicted about the Lady's methods of control. When Wren went off the handle, I thought maybe the Lady had a point. Our powers were dangerous, after all, in the wrong hands. Still, I longed to be trusted to make my own decisions, and for that reason I could count my blessings that I'd been born a twin. I would have the best of chances to prove myself worthy and earn a certain measure of independence.

"I am sure he'll turn up, and if not..." At her pause I took one silent step forward, and saw Aunt Ivy shrug her shoulders.

A wave of dark fury crossed Maj's features. "Oh, so he's expendable, is he? Well, not to me! Damn the Lady if she says so."

"Now, now." Aunt Ivy's low tone sent a chill down my spine. I couldn't see her face, but that was a dangerous voice. For Maj's sake I hoped the Hand knew Ivy like I did, or at least well enough to know when to leave a subject alone.

It turned out she didn't have to make that call. Aunt Ivy stalked out of the room, and I ducked aside as though I was just coming through the doorway. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, but I could tell from her face she didn't know for sure how much I'd heard.

"Aunt Hope sent me to get you," I told her, keeping my features serene. She followed me back to our room without a word. By the time we got there I'd stopped worrying about getting caught eavesdropping and started pondering the skeletons in the family closet. It seemed like there were as many secrets in this house as I'd run into at home.

I woke to an electric sense of anticipation the next morning. All of the Queen witches were coming; the Lady had called the entire family. Many used the Lady's portals – opened on this day only to all of her witches, escorted by the Hands in the early hours of the morning – to travel the long distance magically. Those who lived closer traveled by more mundane methods, arriving in four-door rental sedans and taxi cabs.

Young and old, Queen witches understood a gathering like this happened very rarely. Yes, it was a funeral, but it was also an opportunity for the Lady to gather her family like a great cloak about her all-powerful shoulders.

The Queen of Peace would walk among them today, as she had done only a handful of times in living memory.

And her Hands would surround her.

That was for later. For now, I watched children spill from cars and from the copse of woods that held the Lady's portal. I'd never been around so many children, and I watched their games with intense interest. Not the magical games – I'd surpassed those long ago. I was more interested in their mundane play, kicking balls around, or whacking them with small mallets and crowing their delight when they beat the others to the finish. If I hadn't been so much older, I would have tried to join in, but if the other Queens my own age hadn't wanted to play with a twin, I was sure I'd scare the young ones off if I tried. So I was content to watch them play and absorb their laughter.

The day was warm, and the fields rolled on like an endless, undulating sea of green stretched under the cloudless blue sky.

Here, at a family reunion, was one of the only places all of the Queen witches could let loose with their powers. It created a festival air, with happy children running everywhere, playing toss the ball and juggle, some of the first games witches practiced psychokinesis with. I marveled at the looks of intense concentration on their faces as they experimented with what they saw others doing, craving the practice. The adults chatted animatedly, and did more advanced tricks for the kids.

As the morning wore on, I began to sense the tension growing and weaving its tendrils among the family. They were waiting for the real show to begin.

Isabel and Rose had been the eldest among the Hands, and for that reason, all of the Hands would participate in the ceremony. The Kalamars showed obvious hostility at sharing the front row with us, the babies Iris and Mabel, and the babies' mother. Dagru and Arie weren't yet serving – they were in their third year of twin school. At twenty they'd formally enter the Lady's service. But even Dagru and Arie wouldn't question the Lady's seating arrangements.

Finally the Queen of Peace arrived, if only for the funeral service, and it was the strangest of sights to see her in the bright light of a sunny California day. Her long blonde hair was piled in curls atop her head, and a thin silver coronet adorned her. She was dressed in flowing white, like a bride approaching the altar. I would dare a guess that many Queens spent the entire service engrossed in her radiant person – the sight of their Lady a beacon in the depths of a cold, dark night that was life in the immortal's shadow.

I felt hollow at their adoration. I didn't know what she was, but these people had given up their power to her, without a question that had ever reached my ears. Immortal, yes. And faulted. The cracks ran to her core. She was not good. Was she evil? I had no reason to suspect that. Yet her unquestioned control left me cold. I had questions aplenty. Where were the questions from all of these Queen witches who were older and wiser than me?

A somber tune from a flute played along the breeze, tugging at my emotions. I thought of Isabel and Rose as I last saw them, playing cards and sipping tea, teasing each other as the points added up. They'd always had cookies and a cuddle for me when I was small. As I grew older, they always had a hint or piece of advice to share about my aunts, or magic, or just life. I would miss them. I was glad for the joy that colored my final memory of them, and the fact they'd passed peacefully.

The Hands came, floating the twin caskets between them. They bowed to the Lady, who acknowledged them with the slightest nod of her head. The two elder pairs of Hands fanned out into a broad circle, while Maj, Terra, Briggs and Godwin – the bonded brother and sister sets – formed an inner circle around the two caskets where they sat side by side on the rolling green hill. From here, we could see all across the farm these women had loved during life.

The bonded foursome of Hands, the Lady's powerful miniature army, stood at the four corners, and lifted their hands. I could feel their power swirl as they engaged each other, but they kept their magic contained to the inner circle.

Dagru and Arie both leaned forward intensely. I knew they wished to be more involved, but they were still relegated to the sidelines with the other children. That's how they thought of us, and it was true we were far behind them. Strange to think that in six years we'd be a bonded set with these boys, serving the Lady alongside the others. I wondered if it often occurred that the Lady had two small armies under her command, or if we were a rarity. What would she do with our power when we finished twin school and joined Dagru and Arie in her service?

My thoughts were interrupted as the Lady spoke, her voice ringing clear in the wide-open space. "Farewell, faithful Hands. Go to your rest on the wings of the mighty, to the green halls of the Summerland. You will be missed."

The Hands worked their magic. As the crowd of Queen witches watched, a column of earth rose from beneath the coffins, shielding them from sight. The dirt swirled, controlled by the inner circle of Hands. The column rose tall as treetops, and still it moved. The churning soil reached a pinnacle of about forty feet before it slowly began its descent. The Queen family watched in adoration as the Hands paid this tribute to their teachers. When the column had finally returned to waist level, I realized I could no longer see the caskets. They'd been churned straight into the earth.

It wasn't over. The bonded foursome that made up the inner circle stretched out their arms toward each other and began to chant. Maj had closed her eyes – hers was the only face I could see as I wondered what they had in store for this crowd of untrained witches.

Gasps greeted the next spell, and Wren touched my hand in a rare show of excitement. I craned my neck trying to figure out what the big deal was. Then I saw it, the first shoot of a sapling tree. It grew before our eyes until I recognized a dogwood. A row of stately white dogwoods lined the farm's long driveway. Was that where they found roots for this new tree? The dogwood grew so rapidly it gave me the nauseating sensation that it wasn't the tree growing, but me standing still so long as to make it seem that way.

When the tree had stretched its branches over the earth where Isabel and Rose were now interred, it burst into bloom, the blossoms a deep pink hue. I gasped along with the others. Just as suddenly, the Hands dropped their link, and the magic that had been coursing around the hilltop flowed onward – on the breeze, through the earth, to the wispy hints of clouds above.

Immediately, the witches in the rows behind me began to fret, shuffling feet and fidgeting filling the void left by the lack of magic after such a display. My heart fell as I realized the reason. For many of them, this was one of the greatest displays of magic they could expect in their lifetimes. And it was over far too fast.

The news came two weeks after our return from California. There had been an accident, and the Kalamar twins were dead. They'd attempted something utterly reckless, gotten caught in their own power, and torn themselves to pieces with it.

My stomach clenched painfully whenever my thoughts touched on it. I thought back to my antics with Wren, to all the occasions we'd been reckless, and felt bile creep up the back of my throat as I imagined my limbs being torn asunder by the same power that allowed me to move boulders.

My mind reeled at their sudden departure; I couldn't seem to absorb the news. We'd just seen them. I pictured Dagru and Arie at the funeral, their handsome faces, their longish hair shaggy around strong jaws and powerful shoulders. I remembered their confidence, their impatience.

No more. They no longer lived.

What had they done?

Two twin sets dying in such close succession didn't bode well for our family, or for us. It changed everything.

Gemini and Garnet were matriarchs now, at the head of the vast body that made up the Queen family. It wasn't a happy succession. So soon after, the twins they'd raised were dead – ripped apart by their own power in the middle of twin school.

The Lady was...out of sorts.

"We will rise above, my young witches." The Lady's optimistic words were delivered in an admonishing tone. She'd waited three days after the news to call us before her. Anger simmered just below the surface of her ever-serene features. Yetta sat at her feet, a blue bruise marring one cheek, and for the first time I felt sorry for the beautiful girl. She was utterly powerless to defend herself against the Lady's temper. That temper was on fine display today. Yetta endured little tugs of the hair here, a pinch there, as the immortal spoke to us. The Lady made Yetta hurt, as she was hurting. "Those boys were supposed to be your brother-set. You're too old now. There will be no brothers for you."

I understood that well after Isabel and Rose's funeral. A bonded brother-set and sister-set partnership meant power. If we were such, the Lady would wear us on her arm like the jewelry that filled the endless store of trunks in room after room of the Realm.

The Kalamars would have no family funeral. They hadn't come of age, they hadn't taken vows or been introduced as Hands...in the Lady's eyes they remained children. Powerful children who had failed to deliver on their potential. The Hands were burying them today; we hadn't been invited. For that I was thankful. I didn't want to be close to their bodies. That would make it all too real.

I would never have wished our brothers harm. But secretly, I rejoiced the Kalamars had died. I knew it was terrible; maybe in my own way I was as much a sociopath as my sister. All I knew was that in the Lady's eyes our value had diminished with our brother-set's demise. As far as I was concerned, we were better off.

The Lady went on. "You will prove powerful, my girls. You must. My Hands, my own personal guard, and my family...you have diminished. Make it up to me in power. Learn from your elders, and learn well. I am depending on you." As she raved, I turned and caught Wren's expression of fervent belief, her awe at being told of her importance.

A sick feeling soured my stomach. _Awe, Wren? Do you know what she asks of us?_

# Chapter Five

I let the waves lap over my feet on my last dawn walk at the Cape. We'd turned sixteen yesterday, and twin school awaited. Once again I faced my _otherness_ , as normal sixteen-year-olds attended high school, went to dances and dated boys. But we had never been to high school, and we would never go. Instead, we would move from our childhood home to attend twin school. It was what we'd been raised to, part of our destiny and purpose – two other things that normal kids don't usually have.

The salt air tingled in my throat, which was raw from holding back the tears. I'd known this was coming, and I wouldn't cry. It wasn't goodbye forever.

Sure, I would return to Cape Foulweather. Maybe it would always be home. But for the next four years, my training would take precedence over what I wanted.

Who was I kidding? The Lady's desires had always taken precedence over what I wanted, and would for my entire life. These dawn walks, my solitary exploration, had been my retreat for years. I somehow doubted the cabin in the Washington Cascade Range, where we'd live during twin school, would afford me the same opportunities for enjoying the natural world on my own. But who knew? I might like the mountains.

Regardless, my heart ached at the thought of leaving the Cape behind.

If there was one solace in our leaving, it was that Melody moved with us. She'd already gone, and would live with us and Gemini and Garnet through twin school. She would continue to tutor us and help keep house while the Hands focused on our training. I was thankful I didn't have to say goodbye to her, too.

I didn't want to test Aunt Ivy's patience, so I cut my walk short with a farewell glance. As though I needed to look. I'd remember this view in fifty years, even if I never saw it again. We had loaded the car the previous night. Goodbyes were all that remained, and we'd say those when the aunts dropped us off. After, they would return to their home at the Cape.

Of all the Hands, they'd be involved in our training the least. I gathered part of the reason was that they were too close to us to be our teachers in twin school. It was a dangerous business, as we'd seen with Dagru and Arie, and the teachers needed an appropriate amount of emotional distance. Aunt Ivy and Aunt Hope had raised us, kept us safe, and prepared us for this moment. The others would now fill in any gaps in our education, and provide the practical experience we needed to master our unusual skills.

I was saying my own silent goodbye to the cliff-top house I'd known all my life when the others came out to the car.

"My girls," Aunt Hope sobbed, gulping down a breath as she reached for me. "All grown up and leaving the nest."

"We'll be home on our first break, Aunt Hope. Don't worry about us," I whispered in the middle of her teary embrace.

"My Sage," she sighed into my hair. I would miss her strong arms surrounding me, the hugs that had marked my childhood and brought me such comfort. I would miss the soothing lavender and cedar smell of her skin. "I'll miss you every day."

Aunt Hope took her seat in the car, and I was standing on my own, taking a final long look at my childhood home before ducking into the car, where Wren and the aunts waited for me, ready for the drive north. At least we weren't taking the portals. I needed a little time to come to grip with my emotions. The cloudy sky, the trees, the farmland; it all blurred together as we drove. I pictured my heart as a stone in my chest to tune out the pain. I was a child no longer.

I forced my sadness to the back of my mind as we drove up the circular driveway to a log cabin backed by dense forest and a small, sparkling creek.

A full house awaited us, with everyone crowding the foyer to engage us as soon as we arrived. The idea that I was now officially a part of the Lady's inner circle gave me pause, but they welcomed us wholeheartedly to their elite band.

Briggs and Godwin had come from Seattle. Maj and Terra had apparently moved into the cabin yesterday. I wondered who would care for their California property, but it was probably a relief to move from the place. After all, they'd grown up there, and Isabel and Rose, the Hands who had raised them, were gone now. The California farm had hosted the last twin school, for the Kalamars, and those couldn't be peaceful memories to live with after Dagru and Arie's death.

The scene around the table that night was much like one I remembered from a more somber occasion, when Isabel and Rose had passed from this life and into the green halls of the Summerland, as the Lady had said. It seemed no occasion was likely to be somber with all of the Hands gathered in one place. A multitude of conversations filled every gap between the clink of the fine china and the chiming of the hours.

Finally, Gemini saw Wren nodding off at the table, her fork still gripped in her hand after a decadent slice of apple pie. "Let me show you the house, girls."

After we left the room, both of us yawning in her wake, Gemini said, "Sorry. We get carried away when we're together. It happens too rarely. But now it's late, and you'll want to know where you're sleeping. A quick tour first, and then to bed."

She showed us around the first floor, but we'd already seen most of that. We followed as she slowly ascended the wide steps with their log railing. For the first time, I realized how old Gemini was getting. She rubbed her hip at the top of the steps, but smiled gently when she saw me watching her. She let us take in the view from the railing at the top of the steps; it was grand for a log cabin. She pointed past a reading nook to a door at the end of the hall.

"We're required to work together all the time, but we're individuals. Sometimes you need your own space. Sage, this room will be yours while you stay with us." A tiny charming room greeted me. It had one large window that looked out on the stream and woods beside the house. This was luxury. Wren and I had always shared a room before, and I'd often craved my own space.

"Thank you. It's lovely." I scraped a tear from one eye with a flash of anger. Why should I cry over my own room? I'd never have my own life.

"Come on Wren, let's get you settled in your room by the kitchen," Gemini said.

Wren looked at me sullenly, and I wondered if she'd put up a fuss. I made an apologetic face, and shrugged.

"'Night," Wren told me softly as the elder Hand led her from my room.

My room. Despite my misgivings over this whole endeavor, it was a comforting thought. Before they were halfway down the steps I had kicked off my shoes and flopped down on the soft full-size bed with its gray down comforter. The walls were a dusky purple, and suited me perfectly. I took a moment to just look around my new space, before I turned to check out the view.

The large window looked out on a gently sloping roof and across the lawn to the stream and the woods beyond. I retrieved my shoes, pushed the window open and carefully climbed out onto the roof. Right next to the sill there was a space where I could sit and look out on the night. How did I get so fortunate? It seemed my family knew me pretty well, after all. Right after I thought it, I heard a knock and my bedroom door opened.

"Sage?" I heard Aunt Hope call softly.

I peeked in through the window. She jumped, but then laughed, "Silly girl! Get in here."

I crawled through the window at her insistent wave, knowing that the little spot would be there whenever I needed a quiet moment in the night. That would probably be often. As I thought about how busy I was likely to be here, I sighed.

"What's the matter, Sage?" Aunt Hope asked me, patting the bed beside where she had sat down.

I welcomed the comfort. "Nothing's the matter, exactly. It's just hard to know what to expect here and I don't know if I can keep up with the training. Maj made it sound kind of daunting."

Aunt Hope made a clicking sound with her tongue that was her favorite way to chide me when she thought I was being silly. "You'll keep up. You've been waiting for this. You'll finally get to use your magic in the open, and soon even without supervision. Isn't it what you've wanted for years?"

It was, of course. Still, I felt a sliver of sadness pierce what had otherwise been a bright day. I snuggled in deeper. I would miss Aunt Hope sorely. I squeezed her hand and hoped she knew.

"Honey, I have to talk to you about your sister," she said as she squeezed me back. "You've held closely to your worries about Wren, but you have to let the other Hands help you now."

"What if she can't learn to control herself?"

"It does you no good to worry about that. She's too valuable to sacrifice; everyone will work together to make sure she learns. The Lady won't have it any other way, and neither will we. So honey, you focus on your training. Focus on learning everything you can. And give up some of your worry over your sister. If there's something her teachers need to know, tell them. You can trust them with your lives. That's what you're doing here."

She gave me a last hug before she left. "I'll visit often. Love you, honey. Take care, and have a good time, okay?"

I leaned out the window, breathing in the night. A soft summer breeze floated into the room, carrying the rich scent of damp earth and growing things. I drew another deep breath and tried to do just as Aunt Hope asked. Could I embrace the freedom to worry about my training above my sister? There was something so seductive about the idea; I thought it must be flawed somehow.

I fell asleep listening to the stream gurgle beyond my window.

We spent our first day testing with the Hands, one on one, in different arrangements as the sun made its way across a blue sky only partially visible between the tops of the surrounding evergreens. I didn't feel great about my performance. Much of the time, I wasn't sure exactly what they were attempting to test, and that made confidence elusive.

When the sun dipped low, we gathered in the clearing behind the cabin. Garnet stepped forward to deliver her assessment.

"There is the pair, and the pairing. The pair: the sum of your parts. The two of you are strong. On your own you're stronger than most Queen witches. Together you have potential beyond most twin sets. Yet together you are so-so, in practice. It is not the pair. So it must be the pairing."

"She tries to hold me back," Wren accused.

My eyebrows shot up, but I said nothing. So she had noticed that.

"Really?" Garnet turned to me. "Why is that? Why do you fear your twin's strength?"

I schooled my expression and considered a suitable response. Despite Aunt Hope's words last night, I made the choice that felt right. It would not suit for our teachers to understand the extent of Wren's instability. They answered directly to the Lady, and I'd already spent years protecting Wren from the consequences.

"She's stronger than me. I guess I'm jealous." It wasn't near the truth, but Garnet didn't know me well yet. Maybe she'd believe me.

To my horror, she did.

"Sage, I'll have to bring this transgression to the Lady's attention. You must not hold back your twin. You hurt the Lady and the family when you let something as petty as jealousy sway your actions."

My stomach sank, but I held my tongue.

The Lady set my penance at one full month of the meanest chores. I'd never cleaned like this; we had always had family to care for us, like Melody. Now I took Melody's instructions, delivered in a low tone while she refused to meet my eyes, and tried to make her proud. I could work with my hands, too. I became completely familiar with my new home by scrubbing the stone tile floors, mucking out the horse's stalls, and clearing weeds from the crowded flowerbeds and the thriving garden.

The entire time I considered the power of lies, and truth, to shape our world. Lies were my choice – the penance was mine, regardless, and I would not sacrifice Wren's safety for my convenience.

Yet I knew I shouldn't continue lying. I didn't want to make the Lady angry. My service was only beginning, and I had a long future to consider.

Were my fears misplaced? Maybe as Wren learned more about her power, and her strength, she'd realize how important control was and grow. Shouldn't she have that chance? Shouldn't I have that chance?

# Chapter Six

"Among Queen witches, psychokinetic powers are innate."

I narrowed my eyes as Garnet spoke. We would finally learn the roots of our power, and I wanted to catch her every word.

"We are born to moving things with our minds as others are born to doing so with their hands. The compulsion to stir up a breeze, to lift a rock you'd never be able to handle with your physical strength; it is a mighty desire. I find release in my power. If I do not use it, I am pestered by the thought of it, imagining moving mountains and other far-fetched ideas. Not a good thing for a Queen witch. If we try to do too much, we can tear ourselves literally limb from limb with the force of our wills."

Silence greeted that statement, and I knew all of us were thinking of the loss of the Kalamars.

I blinked, ducking my head to hide the threatening tears. It wasn't only sadness, but fear. The time had come to learn, but I had no desire to approach the limits of my power and take such risks.

Garnet, more outspoken than her sister Gemini, stepped closer. Since I was looking at the floor I got a good look at her suede boots, with a stitched pattern of a salamander. This woman had style. Garnet twisted her long salt and pepper locks into a quick braid and tossed it her over her shoulder. She gave us an impatient look I didn't think we deserved. Not yet, anyway. For some reason, that look gave me new confidence in her leadership at twin school.

"In psychokinesis, your body acts as an anchor to the power you expend in the world. Listen to your body. If you feel you are doing too much, stop. If you overextend your anchor – your body – you will pay for it. Through practice, you'll learn what you're capable of and condition your body to the safe use of your power."

At twin school, we finally began to understand the limits of our psychokinetic abilities. How much, exactly, was too much? Alone, it turned out the average Queen witch could move about a hundred times their body weight without issue. I'd seen Wren do that much at the age of twelve, when she'd shifted a stream from its path so she'd have a convenient stepping-stone. We were not average.

Twins could magnify their power when they worked in tandem. Together, twins could often move about a thousand times their combined weight.

After Garnet explained the basics, I asked a question that had burned in me as long as I could remember. A question my aunts had never answered. "Why twins? Can't other siblings, or other pairs of witches, work in tandem, too?"

Gemini looked at me for a long moment. As Garnet opened her mouth to answer, Gemini touched her twin's arm, giving her pause. Concern etched Gemini's features, still lovely even at her advanced age, as she considered her response. "What you say is true, Sage. If the bond is powerful enough, a pair of witches can compliment each other and work together."

"Then why are twins treated so differently among the Queens?" Something in her face told me I shouldn't ask, as though she knew the question before it left my lips. I couldn't help it.

"The tradition of our family holds that twins serve the Lady. We are born for her. We serve her needs. We are her Hands in the world. Count yourself lucky."

Apparently, that particular line of questioning was closed.

I couldn't wait to see what Maj and Terra had in store for our training. I didn't have to wait long; we went straight to meet them after Gemini and Garnet.

Terra spoke first. I'd had little chance to get to know her yet. She was more reserved than her twin, though when she did speak it was often to make a joke or a wry observation. From what I knew of her, I liked her. I also knew it was important to get along with my teachers, especially after my early mistakes. "We already know your strength. That's important, but often not as important as precision, control, evasion, and other skills we'll teach you. Think about it: When are your skills most valuable?"

Wren spoke up, out of character. "When we're fighting someone else with the same power."

Fighting? It unsettled me to hear my super powerful yet not-so-stable sister talk about fighting with psychokinesis. Personally, I'd never thought about fighting. I'd thought about flying, but I hadn't dared another attempt from a rooftop since that first time with Wren, years ago.

I was also a teenager, so of course I'd thought about breaking and entering. Wouldn't it be fun to be able to go anywhere I pleased, despite locks on the doors? I didn't voice that opinion. We weren't supposed to think like teenagers when it came to our powers. Use of our gifts for entertainment or our own gain would incur the Lady's wrath. Those who chose that path didn't come back from it.

Training with Maj and Terra was fun. It wasn't easy. They knew what we were capable of, knew our potential, and they pushed us to our limits. Still, they treated us like comrades, not like kids.

We didn't go far afield, at first. We had plenty to experiment with in the nearby mountains. Just as Terra had said, we focused less on brute strength and more on precision, turning our gift into a graceful expression of our desires. I'd never approached grace in my psychokinesis in the past, and it was difficult. How could I break a sweat moving a feather? Well, if I was supposed to cover a specific stone on the other side of a surging river with the feather, I certainly broke a sweat by the time I was done trying. Wren managed that trick on her second try.

I didn't envy my twin her prowess. Truly, I didn't. The more I saw of her abilities, the more I feared her. I feared her quietly, hoping to all the Lady held dear she'd never realize it. I feared her with regret. She was my only sibling and I wished I could share things with her like the other twins we knew. I couldn't imagine this distance between Gemini and Garnet, or Maj and Terra. Still, my fear held on like a wound gone sour.

It wasn't that I feared for myself. I feared for the world. Depending on her fancy, I had come to realize my sister could endanger cities. I also feared for the family. The Lady stopped at nothing to contain knowledge of her witches, to contain knowledge that witches existed. Over centuries she'd defamed those who were outspoken, killed those who abused their power. Such abuse was widely defined to include any action not sanctioned by an immortal patron – most often herself. She'd bred Wren, as surely as a blue-ribbon bitch in a dog show. And Wren could bring everything crashing down around our immortal patron's jewel-studded ears. How many illegal and otherwise unsavory dealings had the Lady been involved with just in the recent past? What would happen if Wren lost control and brought the authorities into our family's activities?

Would that change things?

One of the best parts of twin school was breakfast with Gemini and Garnet each morning we awoke at their cabin. It gave them a chance to talk to us about what we were learning, and help us tie all the pieces together. Over the first year, it became one of my favorite times of day, the other being my solitary nights. My days were bookended by my most contented activities.

These women held a vast store of knowledge – more than I thought I could ever know. It made me think back to that funeral when I was fourteen, when the Hands were distraught with the loss of their eldest pair...for good reason, I now understood. The eldest formed the bedrock for the other twin sets. They'd lived and grown with these powers through their whole lives, and their example was invaluable to a growing witch.

Sometimes I couldn't help but think of the Kalamars, who were raised by Gemini and Garnet until they began twin school. They'd died before they could grow into men. I thought of Aunt Hope, and my whole being ached at the thought of doing such a thing to her. And in this cozy home, I knew both boys had been loved with the fullness of their aunts' hearts. Both women had been sorely wounded by that loss, yet they gave to us every day we were in their presence. The security of this home and the surrounding woods was a shield that made everything we learned here feel safer. I could never thank them enough for that.

Wren disagreed on principle with the concept that we should talk over breakfast. So she rarely said a word. When forced, the resulting conversation wasn't pleasant.

I ignored my recalcitrant sister and used the time to ask for a different point of view on what the other Hands taught us. Whether my sister learned from my questions and the resulting conversation, I cannot say. She may have sat there and ignored everything going on at the table, every morning. By her own choosing it seemed my sister was always an outsider. My struggle was what that meant for her twin. I straddled the two worlds, hers and everyone else's.

Garnet, especially, watched my sister. One time, after we'd been living at the cabin for several months, she took me aside. "Your sister is quiet at the table. Sullen. Is she always like this, or is it us?"

I remembered Aunt Hope's advice, and told the truth. "Wren has certain patterns that she expects to maintain. She's never spoken over breakfast, not more than a few words when I brought her something from my walks on the beach. So she won't."

Garnet's eyebrows went up slowly, and even I was socially aware enough to get her drift. "Seriously?"

I nodded.

"How do I get her to snap out of it?"

I looked her in the eye. Was that possible? Did I just need to step out of the way and let the elders handle it? Relief registered behind my doubts. _Give it up_.

"Deny her food until she talks with you. Just don't dish up her plate until after you've spoken. But keep something nice nearby – like a pastry or some other sweet. When she's especially helpful, add it to her plate. She might come around." Like I hadn't considered for years how to accomplish just this? My sister was ridiculously set in her ways. It grated on me terribly. And what's more, she wouldn't take instruction from me. The very idea offended her. So I had little recourse beyond subtle nudges.

Not Gemini and Garnet. They embraced my plan the next morning. None of the plates were dished up when we came into the room. They'd brewed a pot of tea and filled our mugs. I took a seat and added some cream and honey to mine.

"Want me to fix yours?" I asked Wren.

She sat down beside me and nodded. I soon slid a steaming mug in front of her and saw her take a deep breath of that minty, refreshing steam.

"Raspberry mint?" I asked Gemini as the elder Hands took their seats across from us.

"Yes. I love this blend."

"Good choice," I agreed.

They set about the usual question and answer session that tended to take place over breakfast. Wren wasn't very helpful that day, but within a week the new pattern set in, and she was less resistant. Before long, we were having a pleasant cup of tea each morning, and starting with a discussion of the properties of whichever tea Gemini served, we wove a conversation about magic, methods, emotions, and control. They taught us simply by being with us. Then we broke bread and went about our days.

# Chapter Seven

Briggs and Godwin didn't spend much time at the cabin. Their apartment was in the city, a two-story condo in a high-rise, located in a trendy district near downtown Seattle. Every few months we'd go spend a couple of weeks learning the male Hands' specialties – tracking, seeking and scrying.

"The Lady despises the modern world and so her Hands must be able to survive in it, to thrive in the city. If we were frightened little mice like the rest of our family, the Lady's work would never be done in the world. Yes? You understand?" Briggs was a forceful teacher, cramming his lectures down our throats, despite the fact he was the weaker twin. His brother Godwin held far more power.

"I understand." What I didn't understand was what this said about the Lady. I saw it as a weakness; was there something I was missing?

I loved the city, as much as Wren hated it. So much of it was new to my eyes. Sure, I'd driven through Portland and Seattle as a child, but I'd visited rest stops and restaurants more than anything.

Now that I was allowed a measure of independence occasionally, I was drawn to the constant action of the city. I felt at home among the bustle, blending in to the waves of people, all of them different. I loved the fashion, the intermingling of casual and grungy styles with the put-together. Even the way people wore their hair. Shaggy was in, and I loved it. I stroked my own tresses, all one length – long. Maybe sometime soon I'd get a chance to rectify that, at least.

Godwin understood me, and my need to get out. He started giving me an envelope full of cash each time we came to stay. I wasn't sure where it came from, but he didn't seem worried about it, so I gratefully took the money and spent it, mostly on clothes.

I loved to spend time in the shops, the small boutiques with lovely trinkets and the latest styles. I pictured myself working in a boutique, bringing out the newest display, arranging the colors and patterns to my heart's content, helping women choose a gorgeous dress, the right shoes. I couldn't imagine chatting with customers like the women who worked in the shops. I always avoided them, preferring to disappear among the racks and find something new and pretty to wear.

But we weren't in the city for play. We didn't do anything for play.

In scrying I found my own strength. At first it was beyond comprehending, that I could see what was happening far from my physical location. With the aid of still water or a mirror, and an open mind, I could call people into the medium, and know what they were doing and where they were. It came easily to me. With a good marker, I could find anyone, even in the teeming masses of the city streets. Briggs and Godwin were almost giddy with excitement as they introduced the tools and concepts of scrying. Apparently, I was their first student to show aptitude in this area. It caused a reshuffling of our schedule as the Hands reprioritized, and by our second year in twin school we were spending more time in Seattle with Briggs and Godwin than they'd first planned. Scrying was a prized skill, and it took practice.

Wren had no patience for developing these skills. What did she need with people, anyway? I certainly didn't encourage her. It was fun to be the star pupil, for once.

From the first, I was able to fall into the dreamy, meditative state required for scrying nearly instantly. We started off with simple exercises. One night, Briggs gave Wren and me each three silver rings.

Not realizing he had a magical purpose in mind, I figured he'd just pulled the trinkets out of some jewel case the Lady had given him. Her gifts to her Hands were always extravagant. "Thanks, Briggs. Nice choice with the silver; I don't really wear gold."

He smiled. "As much as I appreciate your sense of style, Sage, that's not the reason for the silver. I'll explain tomorrow. For tonight, focus on the rings before bed, attuning them to your energy, and wear them as you sleep. We're wearing them, too." He pointed to his left hand, where he wore three identical silver rings.

The next morning, the four of us gathered just after sunrise. We traded rings, so that we each held three rings that belonged to the other three witches in the room. Strangely, as I focused on it I could feel a connection with my rings, like strings of spider web binding me to them though the other witches now held them.

Briggs spoke. "Silver is an amazing metal; it is highly conductive, and yet magically neutral. In this case, by wearing the silver rings overnight, they've become attuned to our personal energy signatures. We each now hold the other three witches' rings. Sage, can you tell which ring belongs to your sister?"

I weighed the rings in my hands. Godwin's popped out as though it had been stamped in neon. I could feel Briggs all over another one, though his stamp wasn't as bright. That left the other for Wren's. I could feel a signature there, but it was weak.

When I looked up Godwin was watching me. I understood he'd felt the same thing, and now he waited to see how I'd answer.

"This one is Wren's. The signature here is the least powerful in the room."

Briggs held up a hand at Wren's fiery look. "As can be expected since Godwin and I practice at scrying daily, and you've never practiced a day in your life."

That defused the time bomb that was my sister. She looked at the rings in her hand. "I can't tell which is which," she complained. "This is hard."

"If you practice, you'll learn," Briggs told her bluntly. "If you practice enough, eventually you won't need tools like this, at least not with us. We call them markers. You can use someone's clothes, or a strand of their hair." He shrugged. "What can I say? The rings are more my style."

I tried not to roll my eyes. I still couldn't imagine Aunt Ivy and Briggs as lovers. The thought made me shudder from the roots of my hair to the soles of my feet. I didn't let myself dwell on it, but it had hampered my relationship with Briggs. I had trouble taking him seriously.

When it came to this conversation, I was focused. "Can I ask a question?"

Godwin grinned. "I can tell you've studied with Ivy. You're so polite about it. Of course you can ask questions. We're not quite as...formal...as Ivy."

I laughed. Wren just frowned in confusion, still fiddling with the rings in her palm.

"Why can I feel the rings I wore, like I'm connected to them? I wear things all the time."

Briggs answered, though Godwin had also opened his mouth to speak. Godwin rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. Briggs said, "Did you do as I asked last night? And have you ever focused on an object that way, grown accustomed to it on your person, and parted from it?"

I shook my head. "I never thought to try anything like this before. We know some about our innate abilities, since it wouldn't be safe for the aunts to avoid teaching us about that, but you know the rule. Higher learning waits for twin school."

Briggs nodded, but this time Godwin beat him to the punch line. "So here's the lesson: You treated the rings mindfully, and forged a connection. Be mindful. Your thoughts, your focus, your attention – they have real power to manifest in the world. Don't take it lightly."

"Now," Briggs jumped in, "It's time I went out. When you find me, we'll have lunch."

"You just gave them a clue," Godwin stated, annoyed.

"No I didn't. There are restaurants all over this city, or I could be at a friend's home, or I could be waiting with a picnic in the park. I just said lunch. You're so uptight."

I grinned at Godwin over Briggs' shoulder, and his eyes crinkled with laughter though he continued to give his twin a hard time. "If they find you in less than two hours you owe me a bottle of eighteen-year Scotch."

"Done," Briggs said flippantly. He sauntered out, and the fun began. We started our exercise after giving him a thirty-minute lead. That day, I earned Godwin a bottle of his favorite Scotch, and he gave me another envelope of cash and the rest of the day off to spend it.

Godwin was rapidly becoming my favorite teacher, for obvious reasons. Our shared strength in scrying, and the fact we both needed to escape our siblings – this life – sometimes. The cash didn't hurt either.

I'd been paying more attention to money lately, in my first months living among the Hands, and I'd noticed there was plenty of it to go around. I had always known the Lady possessed wealth, but the jewels and gold I knew of were hidden in trunks in the Realm, accessible only through magic portals. I hadn't ever considered what the family lived on. Money had always been a rather vague concept for me. We'd always had plenty to eat and nice clothes to wear, and Melody and the aunts took care of everything. Until Godwin gave me my own money, I never really thought about it.

It turned out the Lady made it easy, for those in her service. She had worldly possessions, too. A lot of property, and a lot of money in the bank. I struggled to get a grasp on how much – just how rich we were compared with other people. From my vantage point, it seemed like there was an endless supply of resources we could just _have_ at a moment's notice. We were few, and we were the Lady's chosen.

Still, Godwin was the only Hand who just handed me cash of my own to spend as I chose. I loved him for it. Not only because it made my life, or the brief spans of it that I controlled, fun and exciting and free, but also because it showed he understood me as a person. He understood that there was more to me than the witch.

I slowly learned the city, and learned a lot about _me_ while I was out on my own among the crowds. I had to be careful to avoid psychokinesis, to avoid mannerisms that might appear foreign to the average people surrounding me. I learned to wear a mask, friendly enough not to annoy, but not so friendly as to draw unwanted attention, especially from sleazy men. After all, I appeared to be an attractive girl with money and a healthy appetite for shopping, barely a hundred pounds soaking wet. If it came to settling a dispute with my powers, the Lady would prevent me from going out no matter what Godwin said. So I did my best to blend in.

I would have loved a car of my own, but the Hands drew the line there. No cars during twin school. So I either walked or called a cab. I grew comfortable among people without powers. I found I could be like a normal person, almost, out where it was impossible to be open with my abilities.

My sister, on the other hand, mostly stayed in when we had free time in Seattle. I kept her supplied with books, puzzles and even a hand-held video game machine she became completely addicted to. I didn't understand how she could keep to herself so much, but I firmly reminded myself I was her sister, not her keeper. There was no way I could stay in while there was so much to see right outside our door.

While I had fun on my escapes into the city, which no one seemed to mind, as long as I returned promptly for training and didn't stay out all night, our time in Seattle always felt too short. The days were crammed with training, as it seemed my entire life was destined to be.

The apartment had what we called a dreaming room, set up for scrying. The violet walls and thick drapes pulled over the windows lent a twilight feel to the large room no matter the time of day. One wall was mirrored. A seeing pool was sunken into the floor, large enough for the seer to sit inside, and lined with comfortable pads for sitting on the edge. A low table covered in maps and a shelf filled with crystals, mirrors, herbs, pendulums and other tricks of our trade were the only furniture in the dreaming room. Inside, you'd never think you were in the middle of a huge metropolitan area. It was utterly peaceful and cut off from the rest of the world. An amazing, perfect retreat.

I learned fast, and my scrying ability grew. At first I used implements. Mirrors worked best for me. Godwin gave me a black scrying mirror he'd had since he was my age. I hugged it to my chest when he gave it to me, and at my first opportunity I polished it until it shone, and sat cross-legged on my bed. I held a dry flower Aunt Hope had pressed into a bookmark for me, and focused on my aunt. I could see her; she was gardening near the bower. She looked up almost the same instant I called her to the mirror, but after a moment she shrugged and dug her gloved fingers back into the earth. It was good to see her, though she had no way of knowing I'd bothered.

By the middle of twin school, I no longer needed implements. Instead of seeing what I called in still water or glass, I could see it in my mind's eye. I felt powerful, like the witch I'd hoped to become. On my eighteenth birthday, we experimented with this new skill. I could find Briggs, Godwin, Wren. I'd found the other Hands in the woods near the cabin the last time we were there, without the aid of my mirror. I could even track those I didn't know. I could pick up a hat in the street and see its owner across the city.

There was always more to learn. One afternoon soon after we turned eighteen, I got an unplanned introduction to the next level for a witch like me. We were in the dreaming room, and Godwin was trying with unflagging resolve to make Wren focus. My sister remained largely useless when it came to scrying or spells.

"Focus, Wren." Godwin's cool tone threatened to pull me out of my half-dream state, but I resisted, falling further into meditation instead. Suddenly, I hovered above myself, watching Godwin standing over Wren, her frustrated expression, and my own form, silent and still.

Creepy.

As soon as I thought it, I was sucked back into my prone form, as though the very realization of being out of my body pulled me back. I jerked myself out of meditation, shivering.

"Godwin. What just happened?"

He turned to me with a look of concern. "You tell me."

"I think I was outside my body. I could see everything happening in the room, but when I looked at myself, I panicked a little and pulled out of it. Is that normal?"

"Going astral already? You are good at this," he told me with a grin, obviously impressed. If his eyebrows went any higher they'd join his unruly mop of brown curls.

"Astral?"

"From a certain meditative state, we can travel outside our bodies. You can achieve distance or stay close to home in this state. However, you must always be sure your body is in a safe place. One of the biggest threats to an astral traveler is something happening to their body while they're outside it."

So that was pretty creepy. It had been very interesting, though, and I knew I would try it again.

"Alright, Wren. We'll try again after lunch."

My twin's face brightened at the mention of food, her resistant, sulky expression fleeing. Godwin rolled his eyes as she left the room in a hurry for the kitchen.

"She really hates this place, doesn't she?" he asked me.

"Yes. I wish she liked it more, because I love it. It must be nice to be a good match with your twin. You and Briggs seem to fit together. Wren and I don't like any of the same things."

"And yet your strengths complement each other nicely, wouldn't you say?"

I didn't say anything. I'd have rather taken a world where Wren didn't have the ultimate destructive power to go along with her cavalier attitude toward other people. I'd take that world in a heartbeat even if it meant I had no powers myself.

"Each of you is still growing. Give it some time. It isn't a hopeless situation, Sage. It's just that everything feels that way when you're a teenager." He had the grace not to laugh in my face about it, but his dismissal of my feelings because of my age chipped away at my trust. Maybe he didn't get me, after all. Maybe no one ever would.

# Chapter Eight

To celebrate my astral prowess, Godwin decided we should all go out. That meant dragging Wren to a couple of my favorite boutiques when Godwin offered to buy me something nice. My sister hated shopping – I had no idea how we'd ever shared a womb – so she was in a bad mood by the time we were seated at a restaurant for some much-needed food. Wren being moody was nothing new, so I was still caught up in my shopping high. I was thrilled with the boots I'd picked up to go with a couple of new skirts, and I pulled the bag out to have another look at them.

Wren scoffed at my clothing proclivities, as usual. She tested the rich fabric of a white gown between her fingers, brow furrowed in what was probably disgust. "Where do we go that we'd ever dress like that?"

_Where do YOU go_? I amended, keeping that thought to myself. I had big plans I'd eventually go _somewhere_. Anyway, Wren was bent on being obnoxious, because she didn't care for being out in the city. All day, the three of us had given in to most of her demands, continuing to have a good time, and carrying her right along with us.

Now, at dinner, Wren was getting more impatient by the second. She barely ate, instead needling me every time I accidentally bumped her under the table, or if I laughed too loud. I knew she wouldn't be happy until she was back at the quiet apartment, without so many people around. That was just Wren, there was no use trying to talk her out of it.

I was still on shopping cloud nine as Godwin paid our bill, until a short, squat lady bumped into Wren as she bent to retrieve something from her oversize handbag.

Wren stumbled a couple of steps before catching her balance and turned with a glare, her hand already extended toward the woman's bag.

I wasn't sure what she had in mind, but I checked her with my own power, giving a grunt of effort. I couldn't hold her off for long; thankfully my grunt alerted the Hands to an issue.

Briggs clamped one hand on Wren's shoulder and hissed something right into her face. She dropped her psychokinetic assault, and I was once again able to focus on my surroundings instead of countering her energy. A drop of sweat worked its way from my hairline.

Godwin tapped my elbow in a clear message that we needed to get going.

When we got back to the apartment, Godwin took me aside as Briggs gave Wren a tongue-lashing she'd be a long time forgetting.

"Just how often do you manage Wren's behavior like that, countering her? Do you understand that's dangerous – the brute strength it takes to maintain that shield?"

I fidgeted as Godwin questioned me. "I never plan to counter her, I just do it when I see she's going to do something wrong."

"That isn't your responsibility."

I shouted back at him. "If you see a car about to run someone down, isn't it your responsibility to _act_ , if you can?"

"Sage, there are better ways. I can teach you better ways."

I looked him in the eye. "Why don't you seem surprised about the way Wren behaved?"

"Your sister is stubborn and moody. She doesn't like people, especially not when they get in her way. We all know that."

"It doesn't concern you?"

"We are taking steps to guide her down a better path. You need to take steps to protect yourself. So I guess that means more lessons when you're here."

I grinned, a mountain lifting off my shoulders for the first time since I cried my fears into a storm at Cape Foulweather years ago. "More lessons it is."

Later that night, when the apartment was still, the mountain of fear and doubt returned, and I couldn't sleep. Instead, I dressed quietly in the soft lamplight and steeled my nerves. I had an errand in mind. I wrapped myself in a warm pea coat, though it didn't help the chill. It wasn't a physical thing, but the thought of what I was about to do.

I'd noticed the psychiatrist's office as we left the restaurant earlier. It was the juxtaposition of a psychiatrist with Wren's antics that struck me, and my mind kept returning to it as it wandered, refusing to succumb to sleep. I could have chosen any number of similar offices around the city, but I found myself on the street outside the restaurant, next to the psychiatrist's office. I took a deep breath, and looked from one establishment to the other, taking my sweet time. Breaking and entering wasn't to be taken lightly.

I sat down directly outside the psychiatrist's door, and pulled the hood of my pea coat up around my face. I'd only be out for a second, and as far as I could tell there was no one around. I took a deep breath, and left my body for the astral.

I focused on the inside of the office. Seeing things clearly in the physical realm from the astral was a difficult task. As I focused on my need, I moved through the office door, until I was inside the waiting area, the physical room hazy around me. A bit of water in a glass on the reception desk shone blue and sparkly on the astral, and a potted tree showed up as mottled browns and greens.

I turned my attention back to the door, then the doorknob. Slowly, I was able to register the type of lock – an easy thumb-latch for the bottom lock and a deadbolt of standard variety. It was strange, how some things were far easier to see on the astral, and other things far more mysterious than they seemed to my earthly eyes.

With that thought, I snapped back to my physical body and opened my eyes. I scanned the street before rising to my feet and dusting myself off. I stood outside the office door, and focused on the locks. Now that I could see a picture of them in my mind, I could move them. Still a fairly unsophisticated approach; I'd gathered from the Hands that by the time I was truly one of them I'd be adept at using guesswork to manage these aspects of psychokinesis. But so far I hadn't had much practice in that sort of thing.

I opened the office door and crept inside, closing it quietly behind me. I crossed the waiting area quickly for the psychiatrist's space. The first room I found, which I guessed the doctor used to evaluate clients, held several comfortable chairs surrounding a low coffee table. I noted the absence of a desk, and surveyed the long room, finding another door further down. This opened to reveal a large desk with a black leather armchair behind it. And behind that was a wall of books.

I crossed to stand in front of the bookshelves, and skimmed the contents eagerly. I found what I needed in no time. _The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders_. My fingers itched, and I grabbed it off the shelf with little account of its weight. I staggered a step and turned to lay the bulky thing on the doctor's desk. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

I'd grown tired of not knowing, and as I knew the family would never have Wren diagnosed or treated, despite the obvious need, I'd arm myself with whatever knowledge I could gather.

I opened the behemoth and tried to make sense of its pages. Words jumped out at me: personality disorders, psychosocial and environmental factors...on and on. I blinked as tears made the pages look like I was seeing them through two inches of glass. I wiped at my eyes angrily, and chose _Axis II: Personality Disorders_. Here I could choose between the paranoids, the avoidants, the dependents, the obsessive-compulsives, the antisocials, the narcissistics. On the surface they all seemed to fit. And yet none of them fit my sister completely.

Before long it wasn't even Wren I was picturing, but myself as I read entry after entry of mental health criteria. It was quite possible that by these definitions my whole family was crazy. The general diagnostic criteria for a personality disorder included "an enduring pattern of psychological experience and behavior that differs prominently from cultural expectations." Um, yeah. That described all of us.

The closest I came to finding Wren in that book was under antisocial personality disorder, defined as, "A pervasive pattern of disregard for, and violation of, the rights of others that begins in childhood or early adolescence and continues into adulthood." Such a disorder was characterized by a failure to conform to social norms; impulsiveness or failure to plan ahead; irritability and aggressiveness; reckless disregard for the safety of self or others; consistent irresponsibility; and lack of remorse.

I closed my eyes against the words. What difference did the words make?

Wren wasn't right mentally. I'd known that for a long time. That's why I was here. But having words to put with my understanding of her mental state didn't get me anywhere. I still had to deal with Wren, and I couldn't force the family to help her – really help her, not just train her to hide – no matter how I defined the problem.

I shut the book and heaved it back onto the shelf. I barely recognized my motions as I closed the doors and locked the bottom lock of the office door behind me. Outside, I paused to re-engage the deadbolt.

I dragged myself home and to bed, where I tossed in my sheets to deranged dreams of straightjackets and chains, and stringy, unwashed hair.

Wren's psychokinetic strength continued to surprise my teachers. She surprised me, too, but I tried not to let on how much it worried me. Yes, I'd started giving some things up to our teachers, but that didn't mean I'd stop protecting my sister.

Wren uprooted century old trees with a thought. She pulled fish from the deepest pools into her waiting palm. She walked through the world as though it was hers to shape.

Unleash that power in the city, and we would all have trouble. I tried not to ponder that too often.

I wasn't foolish enough to believe Wren would never cause serious trouble. If I wasn't prepared, she would probably kill people. She would never concern herself with the powerless masses. If they were in her way, she'd strike them down like dogs running on a beach, or bugs squashed under her heel.

So I prepared. I knew I had to be ready to protect my sister from herself, to protect the Queen witches from exposure.

I soaked up all of the extra lessons Godwin was willing to offer. Under his tutelage, I surveyed the astral, I learned spells that could complement and accentuate my psychokinetic abilities. I learned things I hoped never to have cause to use. In my own way, I grew as powerful as my sister.

# Chapter Nine

With our twentieth birthday just days away, Wren and I said our goodbyes to twin school, to the life of training that had absorbed us for the past four years. All of the Hands were happy about it – it meant we could be a help to them instead of another commitment. Twin school was strenuous for everyone.

The final week of twin school, Maj and Terra split us up for testing. I worked with Maj, as usual.

"My best guess for your limit is about six tons, girl, so we have a lot to do. You ready for some fun?" The sparkle in the older woman's eyes made me laugh.

"Definitely. Yes. Let's have some fun."

We did have fun. Maj was always a riot. She'd set up a veritable obstacle course of ridiculous items for me to manipulate. A big Ford pickup. A statue of a nude man. A hot dog cart with a garish striped umbrella. I wondered if it was full of hotdogs, because that would probably double its weight. A kiddie pool, full to the brim. I could see where she was going with this.

"What's first?"

She grinned. "For you? The nudie statue." She howled with laughter as I blushed. "I think he belongs in that tree." She pointed to the back of the house.

I shrugged and got started. He lifted easily enough. Maybe a ton of stone. I ignored his nude bits resolutely, starting to blush again at Maj's joke. Was my discomfort around the opposite sex that transparent?

I followed along in the statue's wake, lifting it higher on a slope bound for the apple tree she'd mentioned. I'd give him a place of honor. I carefully nudged him this way and that, nestling him in the crown of the tree, where he could see the landscape for miles around.

At a sharp crack, Maj gestured wildly, and I lifted the statue again, placing it beneath the tree instead. "If Gemini heard that she'll murder me; I just threatened next year's apple pies."

I laughed. Gemini hadn't rushed to the tree's aid, so apparently she'd missed the sound. I looked at Maj for her next instructions.

"The hot dog cart," she ordered. "Buried so it looks like a beach umbrella."

I giggled, and turned to face my next challenge. Easy enough. I turned the earth under the cart, churning far beneath the surface. I envisioned the loose soil sliding up the sides of the cart, swallowing it. It happened in a matter of seconds.

Maj spared me a glance, nodding. Her eyebrows were raised in what I took to be appreciation.

I raised my own, awaiting her next command.

"The kiddie pool. Rotate it in all directions. And don't spill a drop."

"Ooh!" I couldn't help it. This would be fun.

At that point I forgot my nerves and actually enjoyed the tests. I relished the chance to prove I'd grown adept at wielding my psychokinetic ability.

We came together the next day, late in the evening. I was tired, but exhilarated. I had tested my limits in a way I'd never dared before. I'd been impressed by my own strength, my ingenuity, but I also knew I still had a lot to learn. And that at the end of four years of intense training.

"Even I still feel that way, hon," Maj confided as we walked to meet Wren and Terra.

Gemini and Garnet showed up a few seconds after we arrived. Briggs and Godwin and the aunts were already there, and apparently deep in conversation. I hadn't realized they'd watch our joint testing. It felt right, though. One big happy family.

Wren sidled up to me, and stood without speaking. I wondered what she'd learned, but had little hope she'd share it with me.

"Having fun?" I asked her.

"Oh. Yes."

I noted her hesitation. Actually, it was exactly what I'd expected. Secrecy. What had Wren learned about herself that she'd decided to hide from me?

I caught a smile pass between Briggs and Gemini as the Hands came closer, forming a rough circle around us.

"We have a special test, just for the two of you," Garnet laughed.

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, to the snickers of the whole group. It was one of my favorite expressions, and they'd teased me about it relentlessly for the past four years. But I was suspicious. I couldn't help it.

"Oh, come on," Maj said loudly, just as outspoken as usual. "You have to know what's coming, our Foulweather twins."

At that, I stomped and jumped into the air, doing a happy dance while my twin still looked confused. "Don't you get it, Wren? They want us to raise a storm."

"What? How do we do that?" Wren frowned. She hated being out of her element. When the others laughed, she glared around at them. "Give me a test I'm good at and I'll knock the socks off of any one of you."

Terra grinned. "We know. That's why this is your test."

"Have you been planning this for four years?" I asked incredulously.

"Longer than that," Maj confirmed. Her eyes sparkled with excitement – both at the success of the surprise, and at the possibility of what she'd see from the Foulweather twins today.

I nudged Wren to the side of the group, where we could put our heads together without being overheard. She was still frowning. "Quit grumbling, Wren. We can totally do this. Haven't you ever thought about it before?"

"No. It's just a stupid name. What's the point of making a storm?"

"Um, proving that we can? It's going to take a few steps, though."

Wren caught my eyes for a moment, and then looked away. "Go on."

Our huddle lasted several minutes as I explained the process I thought would work best to engineer the weather through psychokinesis.

Wren ran into the cabin for supplies, as I gathered my wits. When my sister returned, I looked around at the others. "Are you sure you want us to try this? What if we call too much of a storm?"

"On your first try? Not likely," Briggs snickered.

Garnet glared at him, and turned a serious expression on me. "We accept the risk, dear. This is a pretty remote location, so you're unlikely to harm anyone directly. I admire that you're considering the repercussions of your magic, because you are correct. Manipulating the weather is one of those fearful areas where the domino effects of your magic can be long lasting and severe. Be mindful when you use such magic." She locked gazes with both Wren and me, emphasizing her point.

"Are we doing this, or what?" Wren asked moodily. Chuckles ran around the circle, the crowd of Hands nervous and excited.

Hoping I wouldn't screw anything up – like cause floods or a twister or something – I sank into a cross-legged position on the grass, holding the items Wren had brought for me. My twin stood above me, staring up at the cloudless sky. The Hands had chosen quite a day for this attempt at storm-making.

"Wren," I whispered. "I know you have little patience for spellwork, but lend me your ear. You must chant these words with me, and focus on our goal." Wren sat across from me without argument. Had she become enthralled with the idea, or was she just going through the motions?

"I thought we'd use psychokinesis," she whispered back.

"We will. After we chant the spell and I visit the astral to see what's what. You keep chanting even after I go, until I return."

Wren shivered. "I don't like it when you go astral."

"I know it's creepy, but I can see a lot that way. You just keep up the chant."

She nodded, her gaze returning to the clear sky. "What's the chant again?"

I repeated it, attempting patience. As I did so, I gathered my thoughts for the spell. Between my legs I held the items Wren had brought from the kitchen – a bowl half-full of water, a wooden spoon, and a small canister of sea salt. As my sister joined the refrain, I began to stir the water with the wooden spoon, faster and faster as we spoke the words.

_I call by the elements: water, air, fire and earth._

_I call by the compass: east, west, north and south._

_Water to water, flowing to rejoin._

_From river to sky and back again._

_I call you, water: return, return._

_May rain soak this earth, then move on!_

This was a spell I'd read on one of my long nights perusing Godwin's bookshelf in the dreaming room. I'd memorized it, just as I'd memorized many spells, in case I ever needed to bring the rain. The "move on" part set my mind at ease about causing major damage. If we called a storm and it stayed put, that's when the risk of flooding increased. Or so I thought from my reading. I wasn't an expert on the weather, despite the Lady's name for us.

The bowl of water would act as a focal point for the storm we called. I hoped. I needed to bring the elements together to tempt water, in the form of rain, back to the earth.

As we chanted in tandem a third time through, I spilled some of the salt into the water, and stirred faster than ever, sealing the spell and joining the two elements. When I let go, the wooden spoon continued the stirring without my help.

I closed my eyes, dropping into a trance as my sister repeated the chant. Her lonely voice weaving the words seemed a long way off. I'd honed my skills on the astral through long and grueling hours of practice, and now I called on that skill with ease. Within moments I'd left my body for the astral plane.

Wren's chant faded to the background, and the small, whispering sounds of the astral greeted me to this place few travelers roamed. I could see Wren and the others – not to mention my own still form – if I focused on them, but that wasn't what I was after now.

I knew how to recognize the elements on the astral. Earth, fire, water and air all had their signatures here, if you understood how to spot them. Water had always appeared to me as a blue sparkle in the corner of my eye, and that's what I sought now.

Unfortunately, our teachers couldn't have chosen a sunnier day to ask for a storm.

I could never trust my sense of time here, so I wasn't sure how many minutes had passed when the blue sparkle caught my attention. As soon as I looked straight at it, it dispersed, but when I focused my attention on the physical world in that direction, I saw the cloudbank, probably twenty miles south and approaching the mountain range. If it reached the mountains, there would be much more resistance to our efforts to encourage a storm here. I'd better move fast.

I opened my eyes in the clearing, to hear Wren's voice chanting steadily. I was proud she'd listened to me and continued the chant. But when I looked around, my stomach soured.

Water from the stream that ran next to the cabin was evaporating steadily, filling the air with steam. The moisture rose to the treetops, and beyond my sight; a cloud in the making. The unnatural sight filled me with dread.

I wasn't the only one. Of my elders, only Briggs and Ivy looked on with wonder – in the other faces I saw my unease reflected.

"Do we continue?" I asked them.

Each of them nodded in turn, save Aunt Hope. She couldn't be blamed. I was scared, too.

Wren grinned as she motioned to the cloud forming at her command, and I understood she was proud.

I smiled. "You just made this a lot easier. Let's finish it. There's a cloud bank about twenty miles south."

We clasped hands, our mutual focus extending beyond the hilltops, around the trees that stood between us and the moisture we needed to complete the spell. I began to focus on pulling the air currents our direction, and felt Wren focus her attention similarly. I felt a lurch as our powers engaged each other and magnified, our focus honed on a singular goal.

There was a rush of wind, strong enough that I tripped back in the face of it. I split my attention, anchoring myself above the soil. At least I wouldn't fall flat on my face.

The air currents had proven easier to manipulate than I'd expected, and that wasn't a good thing. Between us, my twin and I had exerted far too much pressure – now anything that wasn't tied down was flying around the clearing.

Panicked, my gaze flew to where the Hands clustered, waiting to see what we'd do. Gemini and Garnet leaned into each other for strength, expressions curious, if a bit fearful. Maj watched me resolutely, and when our gazes locked, she smiled that wolfish smile, daring me to proceed.

Our cloudbank arrived, and Wren squealed at our stunning success.

In sudden fury the rain pelted down, overwhelming the earth within seconds and running in rivulets across the clearing. Wind lashed my hair into my eyes, and stung me with pellets of debris.

And Wren continued to pull power.

# Chapter Ten

Ice ran in my veins as I clutched Wren's hand fiercely in mine. She used her power still, bringing the winds and rain from the south. "That's enough, Wren!"

"We can do more!"

My belly sank like a stone in a surging river. "No. It is enough."

In my heart I saw written the words I needed, and I brought them forth before my twin could cause real damage. In the center of the storm I made a still place inside, and there I chanted.

_I called by the elements._

_I called by the compass._

_My purpose is served._

_I release this spell. Release!_

A trickle of blood surprised me by passing right over my lips. If I hadn't been so focused on what I was doing, I probably would have thrown up. As it was, I only dimly recognized the blood as the sign it was. My body rebelled at the energies I'd brought to bear.

But Wren didn't bleed. In fact she looked more vital than ever as she stood at the center of the storm. Her long dark hair whipped in the tumbling winds. She pointed her face to the rain and almost seemed to soak in the power of the storm along with the moisture.

I pulled my focus back together, honing my intent on the calm, sunny skies we'd had just minutes ago. In the stillness within, I continued to chant, using the swirling air to power my counterspell. I didn't need to overpower Wren; I just needed to outsmart her.

As the winds died, Wren shrieked, and then glared at me in sullen silence. She finally broke eye contact to look skyward. She didn't understand what I'd done, and I wasn't about to educate her on this point. It was one of my surest strategies for managing her.

The Hands rushed in with congratulations, and just like that we were accepted among them, our training finished.

I couldn't be sure how much any of them knew about what had really happened just now. Maj hugged me, and pulled out a handkerchief when she saw my nosebleed. I took it thankfully, even more grateful that she didn't ask how I felt.

Honestly, I wasn't sure.

That night, the night before my twentieth birthday, I couldn't sleep. Maybe it was the energy we'd raised with the storm earlier. I hadn't felt quite myself since. Out of my element, once again. I'd become accustomed to twin school, and now another ending had crept up on me.

I tried to go back to sleep, but gave up and rose before dawn, tired of pretending. I tromped out to the stable to give the horses, Shadow and Fae, some apples. I heard a telltale shuffle, and what was almost a whimper, in one corner of the dark building. Who else had come out seeking solace in the deep of the night?

"Hello?" I whispered. I hoped it had just been my imagination, but knew better than to surprise a Queen witch, especially a Hand, at a vulnerable moment.

Maj emerged, silently wiping a tear from one cheek. She drew a shaky breath. "Caught me, didn't you?"

I didn't meet her eyes, looking at the horses instead. "I'm sorry. I couldn't sleep, and Shadow and Fae love their apples. It's quiet here."

"Usually, yes."

The silence stretched, and moved from comfortable, even comforting, to expectant.

"Maj? Can I tell you something?"

"Go on." She sounded exhausted, and I wondered if she'd gotten any sleep tonight at all.

"Years ago, I overheard a conversation between you and Ivy. At the funeral in California."

Her eyes iced over faster than a blink. Her features unyielding, she slowly raised one finger to her lips, and the other hand to gesture, wait.

She slipped out the door, but I was pretty sure she'd be back so I fed the horses their apples. I spoke gently to them, stroked their ears and waited.

Maj reappeared a couple of minutes later looking calmer. Without preface, she asked, "How much did you overhear that night?"

"Someone had defected to Chaos, and you were worried. Ivy didn't seem to give a damn, and it made you angry."

The hard look returned, and I wondered if she'd spoken of the lost witch since that day. I had the feeling she hadn't. Just as I began to doubt whether I really wanted to know this story, and cursed myself for my big mouth, she spoke.

"I had a son," she told me. "Theo. He was a good boy, but he ran into trouble as a teenager. It got bad, and one time the police brought him home after he got in a fight. A small thing, but the Lady took it out of his hide. He took weeks to recover from the beating she gave him."

Maj met my eyes. "Obviously, I'm not supposed to tell you anything like this. You're just becoming a Hand. You'll know of the Lady's ways when you need to. When she needs you to," she amended, spite lacing her voice.

"I've suspected for a long time. The confirmation isn't exactly comforting, though. How did you end up with a kid? You're a Hand." I didn't mention the fact that she had to have been younger than me when she had him. She wasn't that old now, and she had a son who was probably in his twenties.

"That is too long a story for tonight. It is not unheard of, though. Usually, we are not able to raise our own children, because our duties require too much of us. The Lady is happy when we'll endure pregnancies, because we have a decent chance of having twins, but she's not interested in giving up her Hands to motherhood. I got lucky with timing. With so many twin-sets serving as Hands, and Isabel and Rose retired at the farm, I was able to raise Theo myself. The Lady wasn't very interested in my son, once she learned I'd have a single. But the other Hands covered my back on more occasions than I can ever thank them for." She paused for a minute, obviously lost in thought.

I was silent. It was a lot to ask her to share these memories with me – the least I could do was give her time.

"Even when Theo's body recovered from that beating, his heart was not the same. He'd lost any childhood illusions about the shape of our family, and his place in it. All he'd ever wanted was to serve the Lady, and she scorned him for something completely outside his control. He had no twin, yet he had enough pride for a dozen Queen witches. That was my fault." A short sob escaped her, but I resisted the urge to reach out. I thought if I did she'd either collapse or run crying from the stable. I wanted to know how this story turned out. "Oh, he was a good boy. And he's alive somewhere, because if he wasn't, I would know it." One hand gripped the front of her shirt over her heart, and she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before fixing her gaze on the far wall of Shadow's stall.

"Do you still believe he ran to Chaos?" I hesitated before asking, but I just couldn't help myself. This was the part I wanted to know about. I'd been thinking about it for years, wondering if some witches truly had made an escape and run to Chaos for aid.

"The Prince of Chaos." Maj gave me a knowing smile. "This is not an appropriate topic. Have a good morning, Sage. I'm going to bed."

I noticed she didn't say back to bed, confirming my suspicions. What had kept my teacher up all night? Her long-lost son, or some more recent drama amid the Queen family?

# Chapter Eleven

After my conversation with Maj, I somehow managed to get back to sleep. Maybe my system was overwhelmed with too much information. I completely forgot it was my birthday, until I woke to the welcome aroma of bacon from the kitchen directly downstairs. One of the many advantages to my cozy little bedroom.

I hustled downstairs, hoping the full house hadn't already devoured my favorite breakfast meat.

A clatter of dishes met my arrival, as Melody worked on cleaning up. She laughed at my horrified expression, and pulled a plate from the oven. "Still warm. Do you think I'd let you go hungry on your birthday?"

I didn't see Wren anywhere, but that wasn't a surprise. My twin still liked to sleep late if given the chance. It looked like the others had already cleared out, too, so I made myself comfortable at the kitchen table, and chatted with Melody.

I felt worn out and thick skulled, a sure side effect of yesterday's extensive use of magic. I'd have to be careful for a few days. Melody slid me a hot cup of tea, and I inhaled the fragrant steam gratefully. Maybe I'd just have a quiet day today. Surely the other Hands would understand my need for a day off.

I caught Melody smiling to herself and suspicion began to seep in through the mirage of a lazy morning. "Where is everyone?" I asked, sipping my tea.

"Are you finished with your breakfast?"

"No. Why?"

"Because when I tell you where they are, you won't be coming back for it."

I ate in silence for a few minutes, trusting her judgment. When I'd wolfed down my plate – for I'd suddenly discovered reserves of energy I didn't know existed, now that there was a surprise on the horizon – I looked at her expectantly.

"They're in the driveway."

I cocked my head to the side. It wasn't what I expected to hear. But if it meant what I thought it might... "Thanks, Melody! I'll see you later!" I hustled outside to see what the Hands were up to.

What I found overshot all of my expectations.

A car. A shiny, forest green classic Mustang, to be precise.

"Are you kidding me?" I asked Briggs and Godwin, who stood next to the beauty. My voice broke over the question.

"Not kidding. Meet your new car!" Godwin exclaimed, coming as close to jovial as I'd ever seen him. "Now that's a birthday gift, right?"

I laughed, clapping a hand over my mouth in shock and a remnant of terror that they'd tell me it was a joke and I could find my real birthday present in that little box over there...

It wasn't a joke. The car of my dreams for my twentieth birthday.

I suddenly had big plans for the day.

During twin school, I set foot at the Cape only a dozen or so times. Now that I'd gotten a car for my birthday, all I wanted was to drive down the coastline and walk on my own beach. Humming to myself, I tugged the gorgeous white gown Wren had bugged me about in Seattle from its hanger and held it up to myself, my eyes on the full-length mirror. I'd been looking for an excuse to wear it, even though I knew Wren would scoff at my choice. When I examined my reflection in the mirror, I hardly recognized myself. I looked like a fairy, ensconced in cloud. Parts of me _barely_ ensconced. It was daring, but no one was going to call me on it today.

I prodded Wren awake, ready to jump back should she strike like a surprised cobra. She finally slit one eye open and looked at me like she couldn't believe I'd dare.

"Happy birthday, Wren! Let's go to the Cape."

Her eyes grew wide as she remembered the ramifications of twenty. She finally sat up, her blankets falling away to show she'd slept naked as a jaybird. Her eyes twinkled as though we shared a joke. "Yes. Let's fly!"

"Actually, we're driving in my new car!"

"What?" Wren gasped. "They _finally_ got you a car?"

The commiseration was nice – apparently my twin had awoken on the right side of the bed this morning.

"Do I get a dress, too?" Wren asked, a mocking sparkle in her eye.

I squealed, "Really, you'll let me doll you up? Let's go find you something!"

We found a green dress that clung to her slim waist and hips, and fell to rustle softly at her ankles. It wasn't too long, because I knew Wren wouldn't go for heels. I found her some gold flats and we were ready. I couldn't believe I was actually getting Wren out of the house all dressed up for a spontaneous drive to the Cape.

The Hands were still waiting in the driveway, and they held two sets of keys. I'd been so consumed by the Mustang that I hadn't noticed the sporty silver two-door coupe that was also a stranger to the circular driveway. Briggs tossed Wren the keys, and gestured to the silver car.

Wren frowned. "You got me a car, too? I don't even drive."

"Well, now that you have _that_ car, you'd better drive. Or I'm stealing it from you," he joked.

Her brow still crinkling in a frown, she didn't seem to notice his joke. Briggs rolled his eyes at me and I grinned, as Wren turned back to my Mustang, completely content to be ferried around, unless we were taking to the skies. It was good of them to offer her a car, at least.

The drive was fun. Yes, that's right. We actually had fun together. We could have flown and it would have been a faster trip, but today it was about the journey. No one was expecting us. The aunts would be back to the Cape later today, but they hadn't left the cabin when we took off in _my shiny green car_. In my thoughts there were still many exclamation points at the end of that phrase.

Wren was right. I had bugged the Hands for a car since twin school began. I argued that I'd be able to drive back and forth to Seattle, and to the store or on other errands if needed. The response was always the same. Focus on your training. Everything else waits until after twin school. I was never brave enough to ask the Lady for a car, so I'd had to live by the Hands' seemingly agreed upon answer.

Not anymore. I had finally come of age. With the wind streaming through my open windows and the road a dark streak under my speeding wheels, the journey passed almost too quickly.

We parked in the aunts' empty driveway, but it was the beach I'd been craving. By long tradition, I took the route down David's old road on the way to the beach. I didn't really care what my twin would say. Mostly because I didn't expect to find any sign of my childhood friend.

More out of habit than anything else, I reached into our message spot – between the branches of the spruce tree beside his old house. Wren gave me a curious glance just as my fingers brushed an unanticipated treasure.

David had left me something for the first time in years. A letter. It looked like it had been there a long time, the edges of the paper yellow, but it was still dry. The paper crackled as I smoothed it open to read it, my heart knocking in my chest.

> _Sage,_
> 
> _I don't know whether you'll find this here. Do you even remember me?_
> 
> _I go to college in Corvallis. Do you want to get together?_
> 
> _Call me._
> 
> _Yours,_
> 
> _David_

His phone number was scrawled below his signature in script that hadn't improved much since we were ten. The 'yours' at the end gave me an involuntary shiver of pleasure. What did he mean by that?

I hadn't seen David in years. The last few times had been awkward, and after all that time, I thought I wouldn't see him again. He'd been in a gloomy mood that last time. It was just a few months before I left for twin school. Of course I couldn't tell him that, but I did tell him I'd be living in Washington the next few years. Homeschooling with my cousins. That came as close to the truth as I could offer. I didn't think he bought it.

He was all full of conspiracy theories after the things I'd shown him, and details about my life suggested close ties with an extended network of family, exclusive membership and little contact with the world outside. I'd read some fiction, thanks to David, and I knew secret societies and dark magic were part of David's mental picture of my family. Trouble was, I couldn't exactly dissuade him from those aspects of the Queens when I knew they were true. In fact, the sordid details were probably much worse than the fears that haunted David. I would never tell him more.

Did I want to catch up with him now, after so much time?

Who was I kidding? My belly did flip-flops at the thought. Corvallis was just a two-hour drive from the Cape.

Wren had kept walking, so I had to jog to catch up with her. I smoothed my dress as I stepped up next to her at the entrance to the dirt path that led down to the beach. She didn't ask what had kept me, and I didn't volunteer anything.

My sister was full of energy today. She showed no sign of the weariness I felt deep in my bones after the spells I'd used yesterday.

I watched Wren skip along the beach, her emerald dress catching around her legs in the breeze. Could it be we had actually arrived, fully grown, at our destiny? If this was to be my life, perhaps it was time to set aside all of my worries and doubts – chalk them up to a lonely childhood and adolescent fears.

The sandy stretch of beach was deserted, and Wren scampered down it like she was ten years old again. She stopped near the rocks at the far end, and I caught up with her.

A pair of seagulls were fighting over half a crab. One of them was missing an eye, but it wasn't a new wound.

Wren stared as if transfixed. Feeling something in the air, I stepped up beside her and took her hand. I felt the tingle from her fingers that meant she was drawing power.

Without looking at me, she tore her hand from my grasp and stretched both hands toward the gulls. With a squawk one of them whipped back, its neck snapping as it turned head over tail feathers into the surf. I watched it bob there for a moment, head under the water, before I turned and stared at my sister. Her gaze was on the other bird. The one missing an eye.

She started to lift her hand again, and I called on the same power I'd used yesterday, dispelling the power she called before it could cause harm. She had drawn on the power of the waves, and as I countered her, I felt the eternal rhythm of the sea in my bones. The size of that power made me quake, but I couldn't give in to my fears now. Instead, I joined myself with it, flowing with the same rhythm, swiftly pulling back the power she gathered, sending it to rejoin the cycle of the sea.

Wren turned to me. "What do you think you're doing?"

I shrugged, but my heart leapt to my throat, the urge to run filling my blood at her cold tone. For two years I'd learned to counter her power without letting her know about it. Why would I risk my secret over a seagull? The only answer was that after her antics yesterday, I acted on impulse when I saw her drawing power for a mean and selfish game. I'd pay for the impulse.

"You are limiting my power in some way." Wren held my gaze for a long moment before turning back to the gull. "It doesn't matter. You should find a mirror, Sage. You're bleeding."

# Chapter Twelve

I ran my hand across my upper lip, and it came away smeared with bright red streaks. I set my jaw. The fact Wren hadn't bled – once again – didn't escape me.

I did my best to clean up my nosebleed, and followed her slowly, some part of me insanely happy I'd saved a damn sea gull from my sister's lethal attention. The rest of me was bone weary.

"Let's call the storm again!" Wren exclaimed.

I took in the clear blue sky and the still trees. "Not today, Wren. As you can see, I can't do that much after yesterday."

"You fight your power. And mine," she cackled, grinning. "That's why you bleed. You should embrace it." Wren's fingers curled into claws as she turned to watch the sea, scuffing her gold-clad toes in the sand like a bull about to charge. "It is in me, sister. Every cell screams with the power that flows in me."

My sister was the Lady's dream. A witch unparalleled in power, and without a whit of regret over any harm she might cause. There was always the chance she'd completely screw up and our family would be outed. I could at least hope.

I closed my eyes, feeling another drop of blood slide from my nose as I reached out toward the astral. Luckily there were no clouds in the vicinity – it was a balmy day for the Oregon coast.

Then I felt Wren pulling power, and the relentless crash of the sea, that eternal rhythm, shattered my consciousness. I retreated in panic, gasping for breath as I fell to my knees in the sand. I didn't want to open my eyes. The roar of the sea was too loud.

I couldn't guess what Wren had done, but I had to open my eyes and find out. I dared a peek.

A wall of water tall as a two-story building stood about a hundred feet from us. Wren faced it, her hands lifted and a maniacal smile on her face when she turned and caught my eye. "You see? My power is as vast as the whole sea!"

I shook my head, and my gaze tore over the beach in all directions. We were the only people here – that was a relief.

I understood what she meant to do, and panic rose in my blood once again, just before she did it. She dropped her hold on the water, and turned her power on me. Before I could engage her, her power hit me like a fist to the jaw. I flew, for a moment, tumbling in all directions. All I could see as I crashed head over heel was the soft white of my dress as its folds captured and held me. I splayed out flat on the sand, the breath knocked from me, just in time to feel that wall of water crash over me.

I tumbled some more, my limbs hitting rocks lifted by the wave – or maybe I was tumbling along the bottom, below many feet of water. I couldn't tell. My lungs burned. I hadn't even had a chance to draw a breath. I curled up as best I could, shoving the fabric of my gown down from my face where it clung to me like desperate fingers. When I felt my legs contact something solid, I sprang up, trying to reach air. I stood in about two feet of water, but I was far, far from the shore. The wave had reshaped the beach. I stood, wobbling, then sat down hard on a heap of sand near some rocks that had only been visible before at low tide.

I couldn't bring myself to move. The salty water had washed away the blood, except for a bright red smear on my wet skirt, which was no longer white but more of a dingy gray, spotted with dark matter from the sea. My head pounded and suddenly I knew I was going to be sick. I turned to a pocket between two rocks and heaved the contents of my stomach onto the sand. I scooted back a pace until the waves, calm once more, lapped against my legs. I fell onto my side on the ground. I'd never been so tired.

A nagging question brought me out of my stupor for a moment. What had happened to Wren?

"Sage? Honey, can you hear me? Come on, Sage, wake up and tell me you hear me."

I knew that voice. It was the sound of safety, the sound of home. I tried to open my eyes, but they felt like they were filled with gravel. Instead I moved my hand toward the source of that sound. "Aunt Hope?"

A sob was the only sound I heard for a moment, as she apparently tried to pull herself together. "Oh, thank goodness."

"Where's Wren?"

"She wasn't making any sense. She said something about the beach, and then she just left. She flew off without saying where she was going. I went down to the sandy stretch and found it completely different. I saw you, honey. You were just a speck out there, and the tide was coming in. You're lucky this old witch still knows what she's doing."

It was my turn to sob, and I just broke down. Wren had basically left me to die. She hadn't even stuck around to make sure I was okay. And if Aunt Hope hadn't found me, I probably would have drowned.

The tears helped wash the gritty sand from my eyes, and I finally opened them to find Aunt Hope watching me, regret shining with the tears in her eyes.

"The Lady wants to see you."

I roared at that, feeling more wild animal than woman. "No! I have no interest in seeing her! Don't you know she's the one who made my sister what she is? I can't stand her!"

"Now, Sage." The voice that joined us from the corner made a chill run along the skin on the side of the body facing it. "Don't say anything you'll regret. The Lady desires an explanation for what occurred today, that is all. And then you can get to bed and rest, while we find Wren."

All of the fight went out of me. Bed sounded really, really good. Better than anything had ever sounded in my twenty years. "Yes, Aunt Ivy."

I dressed in a soft blue sweater and dark pants Aunt Hope set out on the chair next to my bed. I didn't ask about my no-longer-white gown.

We trekked down the short trail along the cliff, to the cave portal into the Lady's domain. She waited for us by the underground lake that had inspired some in the past to call her the Lady of the Lake. She often held a solitary vigil there, watching the world go by outside. I'd never questioned that the Lady was a powerful seer. She always knew where to send her Hands, didn't she? What I didn't know was why she watched. Why not just go out and be a part of things again?

The others left me alone with her. As they retreated, a whisper of motion rippled across the underground lake. The Lady turned to face me. How much did she already know about what happened today?

She appeared radiant, her long hair glistening and bejeweled, her clothing immaculate. Despite the long centuries her features were smooth and perfect. She could be a queen above, in truth. Yet she waited here, the Queen of Peace, a queen of darkness and damp.

I forced my tired mind from these thoughts, and cleared my throat.

The Lady lifted her head gracefully, looking down her straight nose at me, as she had when I was a child making a ruckus in her otherwise eerily quiet home.

"Sage, you do not appear well. I need your account of today's events, and you can go."

I swayed where I stood, unsure what to say. I didn't want to hesitate too long, though, and finally blurted out, "Wren pulled power from the sea, and made a wall of water. When it crashed down I was caught in it." My voice crumbled at the admission I was about to make. "I was so weak after yesterday, after raising the storm as our final test. Wren seemed stronger. I couldn't protect myself. I couldn't do anything."

I did not mention that I believed Wren's intent had been to cause me harm. I couldn't speak those words out loud, certainly not to the Lady.

She regarded me in silence, evaluating my story. Then she asked, "Did she think you lost? Is that why she left?"

"I passed out. I don't know why she left. Aunt Hope found me on the beach."

"And we are all very thankful she did." Somehow her imperious tone didn't convince me. "Godwin is searching for your sister now. We will find her. She has done wrong, and I will teach her a lesson she will not forget."

I gulped. "What are you going to do?"

"Don't worry. By the time you see your sister again, she'll no longer bear the marks. Your initiation and vows have been pushed back for a month's time. Long enough for your sister to learn her lesson. It's time I teach her a reason for controlling herself that she will understand."

I grimaced. But I couldn't deny my sister needed a good beating, or a dozen of them, to get over her childish propensity for using her magic in a very dangerous fashion – one that put us all, even the Lady, at risk. For once I agreed with the immortal. Still, after protecting Wren my whole life, now I felt selfish, and wrong.

"You do not struggle with control as your sister does, Sage. Could it be you understand what is truly at risk when you lose control? I appreciate a witch, especially my Hand, taking responsibility for her own safety."

It might have come as close to praise as I'd ever received from the Lady, yet I nodded vacantly, wishing only for my bed. It seemed my answers satisfied her, and I hadn't been forced to say anything about Wren's ill intentions toward me.

I realized with a jolt that we were now older than the Kalamar twins when they'd met their untimely end. Did that make us survivors? I shivered. I wanted to believe I'd live to see my eighties, like the old matriarchs, but I thought of the beach earlier and chewed my lip.

# Chapter Thirteen

Three nights later, I left Cape Foulweather in my shiny green car and drove to Corvallis, Oregon, to see David. He'd seemed happy to hear from me when I called, and his voice brought back happy memories from a simpler time. This was the first exploit of my "secret life" in years. At the moment, after my altercation with Wren, I was more interested in me than in being a Hand. Still, I was expected in Seattle tomorrow, where I'd stay until Wren could join me for the next phase of our initiation as Hands. I didn't want to think about that, because I wasn't sure how I was going to get along with her after what she'd done. And I knew she would never understand my unease.

I parked near the waterfront, a few blocks from the pizza place David had mentioned. We were supposed to meet at the park first. I glanced in my rearview mirror, and tried to smooth down my dark hair. It was crazy wild after my drive. What can I say? I loved to drive with the windows down. The girl in the mirror showed no ill effects of having nearly been murdered by her sister a few days ago. A lucky stroke, that. I certainly wasn't going to bring it up. Tonight was about me.

The air had cooled as night settled over the small city, and I grabbed the leather jacket I'd thrown across the back seat and buttoned it up over my flowy, midnight blue top. The heels of my knee-high boots set an echoing rhythm as I left the Mustang behind.

I didn't walk far before I saw David, leaning back against the wall that bordered the riverside walk. His arms were crossed, and he was dressed in nice clothes, dark slacks and a classy gray button-up shirt. Shadows hid his features, but I didn't need to see his face clearly to recognize him. I wished I could see his eyes.

"Hi, Sage," David spoke from the shadows.

"Hi. It's been too long, David." I moved closer, unsure how to greet him. I finally decided on a hug, but regretted it when I felt how stiff he was. I backed up a pace.

"Want to walk for a while?" he asked.

"Sounds good." I could stand to stretch my legs, and walking gave me something to do besides stare at him. I wondered if that's why he suggested it.

We walked along the river, neither of us saying much. I searched the silence between us for some sign of the camaraderie we felt as children. I battled the disappointment when I felt nothing but the strain of too many years gone by.

He turned down one of the streets, and a couple of minutes later he led the way inside a busy restaurant, and up the stairs to the rooftop seating. I kept my coat on – summer was over, and the fall chill kept most visitors off the roof. We ended up with a whole section to ourselves. If the waitress seemed put out, I couldn't blame her. We placed our order, and there was nothing left but to watch each other across the table.

The truth was, now that we were here, seated across from each other, I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn't know what to say. It had been a long time since we'd been comfortable with each other.

"So you still use stairs? I figured you'd be flying by now for sure."

No comment on _that_. "Some view from up here." Maybe a change of subject would get us over our nerves here.

"Yeah. I thought you'd like to be outside." He wasn't even looking at me.

What was it with the sullen attitude? I kicked myself for coming all this way, recalling our few minutes of telephone conversation with new eyes. Maybe I'd misread him. Did I look too eager?

"So you're going to Oregon State?" I asked him, trying for anything that wouldn't sound awkward or too personal. We talked about mundane topics for a while. I told him things I loved about Seattle, and the mountains. He talked about his high school job on a golf course, and playing baseball. Turned out he was on scholarship. "You'll have to come see me play in the spring."

I glanced around. Eventually the rooftop had started to fill up, despite the distinct autumn chill. I drank a root beer and watched the students with interest. Everything about them struck me as normal. They drank too much, talked too loud. They had nothing to hide and no regrets. Normal.

"Want to do this again?" David asked when I took a quick peek at the time on my phone.

I actually wanted to say no. But I didn't trust that feeling. I'd wanted to see David again for years. Even if tonight had been awfully awkward, maybe next time would be like old times.

"Do you ever wish you could go back?" I asked him suddenly, not even quite sure what I meant by the question, only that I wanted to shock him out of whatever had him so closed off.

"Back? Like to when we were kids?"

I nodded, wondering what parts he'd return to, and what he'd avoid. How about me? If he could go back, would he avoid me completely?

"There's no place like home," he joked.

I gulped around the lump in my throat, my suspicions confirmed by his attempt at levity when I was completely serious. Before too many seconds ticked by, I quipped, "I've actually seen that movie. It wasn't great. Terrible misrepresentation of witches."

He pointedly ignored that. "See you soon, Sage."

When I got to the condo in Seattle, I threw my bag on my bed and sat down in a huff. My skin practically itched with impatience. Welcome to my new life.

I'd grabbed an envelope addressed to me off the table in the hall. I ripped it open as I tucked my feet underneath me, Godwin's scrawled handwriting meeting my glance.

> _Sage,_
> 
> _We've found Wren, and she is staying with the Lady for the time being. She will return in one month. You're welcome to stay at the condo, but until your vows your time is your own. Take the opportunity for some much needed rest._
> 
> _With Love,_
> 
> _Godwin_

Refusing to think on my sister, or worry what was happening to her at this moment, somewhere under the Lady's control, I went straight to bed.

The next morning it felt like the walls were closing in on me. After I showered, I tore a dark green long-sleeve top and a pair of jeans from my closet, seeking comfort as I chose my well-worn brown boots. I barely took time to eat a quick breakfast before I hit the streets. I'd been driving enough, and my feet were itching to kill some miles.

I didn't have a plan, or a destination in mind. I swear the idea never occurred to me...until I found myself standing by the entrance to the local community college campus. I stood transfixed, unsure what I was doing, but when my feet moved, it wasn't back to the street.

At the registrar's office, I had to clear my throat after a couple of minutes of standing at a glass window, like a teller's window at a bank, but here it was a short, frail grandmotherly woman in a cheerful flower-printed blouse, who looked over her glasses at me like I was causing a disturbance.

"I'd like to take a class. How do I register?" I figured a pointed question would get me a better result than fluff.

"Classes started last week. You'll have to get an instructor's signature to take their class this late."

I bit my lip. This was a terrible idea. She looked back at me, and paused – maybe taking in the expression on my face.

"What class were you thinking of? I can look it up and see if there's still room."

I didn't know why she'd suddenly chosen to be helpful, but I fessed up before my hesitation cost me this opportunity. "I don't know. I just thought of this. It has to be at night–"

Even I knew that was a lame reason to take a class. She watched me curiously after my abrupt pause.

"Lots of students only take classes at night. They work during the day, or have families. So there are a lot of options. Have you taken any college classes before?"

"No." I frowned, wondering if my family's seclusion would rob me of this chance, too.

"Are you a high-school graduate?"

"Yes. I was homeschooled."

"Let me grab you an admission form and a sheet that talks about tuition and fees. We do have financial aid for students who qualify."

I cleared my throat. "I'm not worried about that. I'll pay cash." Having all these papers around was a surefire way to get caught. I hadn't asked permission, and I certainly wasn't about to ask now. I deserved this, and I was going to do it.

"Maybe start with a writing class? They transfer just about everywhere, and you need them for many certificates and degrees."

She set me up with a skills test, and I counted my lucky stars Briggs was into computers and had taught me the basics. It took me almost an hour to complete, and by the time I was done I felt sticky with sweat. What was I doing?

I waited once again outside the registrar's window as she checked my results.

"Nice. You placed in English composition." She smiled at me and I guessed that must be good. She flipped open a book and checked something. "So, you're looking for Kay Warren." She grabbed a campus map and put a star next to the building. She scrawled _English Composition I_ on the corner of the page, and handed it to me.

"Thanks, I–"

"No problem!" she told me with another bright smile.

I gave an awkward smile and walked away, toward the instructor's office. I hoped luck was with me and I could just settle this now, before I lost my nerve.

As I walked the paths between old brick buildings, I watched the people. Most were young, around my age. But there were also lots of older people, and I assumed some were students, and some were their teachers. Where I'd always thought a college campus would be intimidating, this place was anything but.

I found Kay Warren's cubicle in the English department. She turned out to be a petite, curvy woman with short sassy hair and a friendly smile. "What can I do for you?" she asked me, motioning to a chair across the desk from her.

"I'd like to take your English composition class in the evenings, if I can still register."

"Classes started last week. Any particular reason you're just now registering?"

I squirmed in my chair. "Honestly? I just decided to take a class."

The instructor leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms and considering me. "I can let you audit this term. So you won't get credit."

"Credit?" I asked, making myself look like a complete idiot. That hadn't even occurred to me. "I'm not in it for credit."

Her eyes widened. "Okay. I guess I'll see you at tomorrow night's class?"

I handed over the paper and watched her sign it. "Thank you, Ms. Warren. You won't regret this."

# Chapter Fourteen

Seattle Central Community College was a two-mile walk from the Hands' condo. I practically skipped to it on the way to my first college class the next night. I wasn't too sad that I'd missed the registration deadline. At least the instructor was giving me this opportunity. It would let me try it on a little, this new role I'd invented just yesterday – the student.

I found the building and classroom without incident. Actually, I swung by campus the night before class so I would know where I was going. With Wren spending some quality time underground, I didn't have anything to keep me busy. So I'd spent a little time in the Atrium yesterday. It was a central gathering space on campus. I'd grabbed a coffee and a table by the western windows, and spent an hour reading a book and surreptitiously people watching. I liked it there, with all the bustle of young people moving about, learning, laughing, meeting friends. Going on dates. What would it be like to really be one of them? With grades and meeting friends my only concerns in the world. Except my clothes. In my not-a-witch, just-a-normal-student fantasy, I'd spend a lot of time on wardrobe. And I'd look fabulous every day, because what else would I have to worry about?

I slowed my pace as I approached the brick building, with its wide windows facing a tree-lined street. It was a warm evening for Seattle in the fall. Across the street students rode their bikes along the park, and sat on the benches. I saw a couple of shirtless guys throwing a football in the fading light, and I couldn't help but watch. A blush rose to my cheeks as one of them caught my eye and smiled. I nodded slightly and hurried into the building.

Inside, the building was cool. I took the stairs to the third floor, and found the classroom. Steeling my resolve, I walked through. Class hadn't started yet, thankfully.

I sat in the back, trying not to be noticed. The windows looked out on the park, where I could see that the partially naked football game had stopped. I'd kind of hoped to watch more. Instead, I took a folder from my backpack. As I retrieved a pen, I heard a shuffle to my right, and glanced up to see the guy who had just been shirtless and smiling at me from the park.

He took the seat next to me, and held out a hand with a gregarious smile. "Hi. I'm Peter. Are you just starting this class?"

"Yeah, it's kind of a spur of the moment thing. I'm just auditing." I wasn't sure what I was mumbling, but the words kept coming. "I'm Sage. Nice to meet you."

He smiled again and pulled his own supplies from his bag. I wasn't sure why he'd sat so close to me, because the whole back row was still empty. I could practically feel the heat coming off him after his exercise in the park, but he smelled good. Very good.

He glanced up to catch me looking at him, and this time the smile reached his eyes. "Are you new to Seattle, Sage?"

"I've had family here for some time, so I've visited a lot, actually."

"Too bad. I was going to ask if I could show you around."

Warning bells went off in my mind. I couldn't take him up on it. I was surprised I wanted to...but that was no way to keep my secret. I was here to take a class, not find a boyfriend, despite my fantasies yesterday in the Atrium.

"I'm not really dating," I told him lamely.

He quirked an eyebrow, and turned his attention to the front of the room, where the instructor Ms. Warren had just walked in and was setting her water bottle and papers down on the wide wooden desk at the front of the room. She turned to face the class, her gaze surveying the room, and smiled when she found me. I couldn't believe she cared, but it warmed me all the same. Then she dove into her lecture.

I hadn't read the book they were currently picking to pieces, but I did my best to follow the flow of conversation and paid even more attention to the way everyone behaved and communicated. In our homeschooling classes, I'd always been one of two students, and Wren didn't talk much. The classroom was a whole new thing for me. The hours disappeared in a flash, and I suddenly regretted not auditing more than one class. A couple of hours twice a week wasn't much time to soak it all in.

"Sage?"

I turned at my name, brushing my dark hair out of my eyes, and found Peter holding out my pen, which I'd apparently dropped.

"Hey, I work at a twenty-four hour diner on Madison Street. My shift starts in twenty minutes. If you walk with me I'll buy you a coffee."

That was the same direction as the condo. What harm could it do? I nodded, my tongue suddenly thick in my mouth. I thought of David, thankful I'd had at least one male friend in my life. Otherwise this would be truly awkward.

In truth, it wasn't awkward at all. I loosened up after he rambled on for a block, talking about where all the students spent their time, and the best places on campus to eat. When we reached the diner, he had me telling him about the Oregon coast. Apparently he'd never been as far south as Cape Foulweather before, and I was chiding him for it.

I'd never been inside this diner, even though it was practically right down the street from the condo. A little bell chimed as we entered, and warm air spiced with cinnamon and baking bread greeted us.

"Is that an apple pie baking?"

"Have to keep a fresh one on hand. It's our most requested dessert."

"How long until it's out? I'll take a slice." It had been ages since I'd had apple pie. Melody was more into cream pies, but apple was my favorite. Garnet had baked them a couple of times during twin school, and I would never forget that smell.

Peter grinned as he went behind the counter. "I'll ask. And I'll bring that coffee I promised you."

I wasn't going to turn it down. I didn't know why he was being so nice to me, but some angry part of me was soothed by the chance to interact without all the pressure of being one of the Lady's chosen.

I took a seat at the far end of a curving bar. A few groups of customers took up the blue retro-style booths along the windows. The closest was a group of girls I wouldn't have been surprised to see at the Seattle Central campus. They were probably within a year or two of my age, but they seemed so much younger. I couldn't help but overhear one of the girls talking up her new boyfriend. "No, really. The best I ever had, you know, between the sheets."

"That's not saying much. You're not exactly experienced," came the saucy retort from one of her friends.

Was this what girls talked about?

Peter came out of the kitchen wearing an apron and carrying my coffee. I felt a twinge of gratitude that I'd come with him and not with those girls. "Cream and sugar?"

"Cream, please."

I doctored the coffee and took a sip.

"I have to get to work, Sage. You should come by when you can. Coffee's on me." He waved as he went to greet a new group of customers and show them to a table. He seemed good at his job. At ease. In fact, he always seemed at ease, from what I'd seen of him, no matter the situation. At ease playing football shirtless in front of a ton of people, at ease introducing himself to a new girl in class, at ease asking her out, at ease being turned down, at ease offering free coffee, at ease serving people fries and a coke. At ease, at ease, at ease.

I sat there for a while. I pulled a book from my bag, but I wasn't really reading it. Peter eventually brought me a slice of heavenly apple pie, and at that point I knew I'd be back. I got my fill of people watching, over the pages of my latest mystery novel.

When I felt I'd stayed as long as any normal person would, I slid my plate – not a crumb remaining – to the middle of the counter and did the same with my cup. I caught Peter's eye and gave him a small wave.

He tilted his head and gave me a cocky look. "See you in class, Sage."

A tingle ran down my spine. I found I couldn't wait to see him again. I shoved that ridiculous thought to the back of my mind and hastily made my way out the door, the little bell jostling with a sunny song behind me.

I went into Peter's diner the morning of our next class, knowing I probably shouldn't be indulging this fascination with a guy I barely knew. At times just knowing I shouldn't do something was enough to convince me to try it. I didn't even know if he'd be working, but it turned out luck was on my side.

"Hi, Sage."

"Hi, Peter," I said softly, still shy with him.

"Apple pie a la mode and coffee?" He smiled. He glanced around before leaning toward me, close enough I could smell the mint on his breath. He stared at my lips. "Not a healthy breakfast."

His presumption caught me off guard, and I leaned back, meeting his eyes. Now I was in over my head. My thoughts swam with possible replies, but what came out of my mouth was the last thing I expected. "Can I buy _you_ coffee tonight?" I blurted out.

Did I just ask a guy out on a date? I just asked a guy out on a date. Oh, no. I hoped Godwin would back me up on this. He'd probably pitch an Aunt Ivy-like fit. A date? What was I thinking?

He grinned from ear to ear. Then the grin faded, and he said, "I can't. I have to work right up until class. Rain check? How about tomorrow?"

I flushed and nodded, unable to back out now. I wasn't sure I'd back out if I had the chance. "Ten o'clock at the Rain Barrel. Do you know it?"

Peter nodded, still looking mystified at the whole date development. "I can't wait. See you there." He looked sheepish. "Actually, I'll see you in a sec with your pie and coffee...and I'll see you tonight at class."

I laughed loud enough to draw glances from other customers, who were beginning to fidget in their seats as I kept hogging the waiter.

The next night I turned on every light in my room so I could check out the outfit I'd chosen. A red silk strappy top, with a light, half-length black sweater to cut out the midnight chill. Dark gray bootcut slacks and my favorite black boots. Dynamite. I felt like a heroine from a romance novel – the sort I'd managed to sneak only occasionally over the past few years and that made me blush even in the confines of my own room – slipping out into the night to tryst with my unorthodox lover. Nix the whole lover part. We were just having coffee. I had the feeling if I gave it a chance with a nice guy, but a stranger, maybe I'd learn something about myself. Win win, right?

I slipped some cash into my pocket. I'd accumulated a hoard from the leftovers of Godwin's gifts. I wondered sometimes why he was so generous with me. I guessed it was because he'd never had a daughter of his own, and we were so much alike. He seemed to genuinely want me to be happy. His cash did buy a certain measure of happiness, since when I got out I could do pretty much whatever I wanted, but his support meant far more to me.

I couldn't tell him I was going out to see a guy, so I said there was a late-night show of a horror movie playing at the multiplex, and I'd be back by two. He narrowed his eyes slightly at my proclamation, but let it go without saying a word. He just nodded and I scooted out of there as quick as a scurrying mouse.

I arrived a few minutes before ten, and scouted out a suitable table. I could see the stream of traffic coming through the door; I hadn't realized it, but there was a poetry reading tonight. I came here about once a week when I was in town, and it was usually quiet enough for me to get into a good book over a cup of tea or coffee. Guess I'd never been on a Friday. The crowd was eclectic, largely hipsters.

I started to worry about just how sappy the poetry was going to be, but there was nothing for it, because Peter came through the door just then and spotted me. He gave me an appreciative, but respectful once over, and smiled. "You look beautiful."

Peter pulled out the chair across from me and sat close enough that when he turned to speak his knees brushed mine under the small table. "Poetry, huh?"

"I had no idea, believe me." I blushed, because it still didn't look good, taking a guy to a sappy poetry reading on a first date. I refused to make any bones about it, even for my own peace of mind – this was a date. I didn't even know if I liked Peter...well, I knew I liked him as a person. I didn't really know what I liked in a man. That's part of what I was trying to figure out.

"I don't mind poetry." Peter held my eyes, his knees softly brushing mine again as he shifted, having taken in the room. Now he faced me and gave me his full attention. I swore in a heartbeat I wouldn't blush. Damn it, I was an attractive woman. What was so wrong with a man letting me know so with a look? And Peter was letting me know. His gaze kept dropping to my lips, and the way his parted as he looked at me made my blood rush to my head. I tried to turn the conversation to something else. Something safe. "Have you been here before?"

"No, but I like it. My buddy Brad would totally dig this place. I'll have to bring him in. He writes poetry." His smile sent my heart rate up. "How about you?"

"Yeah, I come here for a quiet spot to read sometimes."

"Quiet?" He laughed. "To read?"

"What? I like to read. I saw a bumper sticker once that said 'Reading is Sexy.'" I don't know why I said that last part. How mortifying. Luckily the waitress stopped by right then. I ordered a double white chocolate mocha. Decadent. Peter got a green tea. So, maybe decadence wasn't the right choice for the situation. How should I know? My question must have shown on my face, because Peter went right ahead and read my mind.

"I have nothing against sweets. I had chocolate cake for dinner." He patted his stomach – I'd seen it that day he played football in the park and I knew he didn't carry spare pounds, so I wouldn't peg him as a sweet tooth, no matter what he said. "Seriously, all we had in the house was leftover cake from my brothers' birthday party."

"Do you live with your parents?"

"No, just my brothers. They're twins; Avery and James." He stopped, staring at me. "Are you okay? You look like you're about to lose your cookies."

Our drinks arrived in the nick of time, and I covered my reaction by trying to avoid a whip cream mustache. "I'm fine. Maybe a little surprised you'd want to live with your brothers after leaving home," I fibbed.

"They're going to the University of Washington. I'm trying to decide whether to attend there next year or get a job. For now, tuition is steep enough without paying for double living space. So we're crammed into a tiny two-bedroom apartment over by campus."

"I bet you got the second bedroom."

He cocked his head at me. "Yeah, the twins are pretty used to sharing space."

"Or they just never said no. People always assume twins like being together."

"You seem familiar with the situation."

I decided to fess up so I didn't sound any weirder than I'd already managed. "I have a twin, myself. Looks like they're getting started." Lucky for me. I didn't want to talk about Wren. This was my night.

The first two readings were sentimental beyond belief. Peter and I shot glances across the table. We weren't rude enough to shout out "Hey, this sucks!" but I think we were coming pretty close.

Between sappy act two and what was sure to be sappy act three, Peter glanced at my drink with a slow smile. "You done with your sweets yet? I don't think I can handle sitting though another–"

"Say no more. Let's go." I grinned. I'd been thinking the same thing. "How about a walk? I know a park near here."

"Haunting parks in a huge city at night? Luckily you have me to protect you." He said it like he was pretty sure I'd do fine on my own. I was glad he'd noticed my confidence, though I'd never tell him the reason for it.

"A chaperone is nice, thank you."

"Honestly, I don't want to hang in a park after dark."

I smirked at him.

It didn't faze him. "How about the pier? It's a long walk, but it's also a nice night."

"I'm game."

He grabbed my hand when we were on the street. A tingle went down my spine at the contact, and I silently laced my fingers through his. I didn't know what I was doing, but I was determined to enjoy this.

Our feet ate up the distance as the conversation wandered. Peter wasn't shy, and he filled me in on his life, his family. More than once he made me laugh, in that deep in the belly way that could make me feel like all was right with the world.

The pier was busy. It was too dark to see much out on the water, besides the reflection of city lights. Cloud cover drowned out any moonlight, though the half moon wouldn't have provided much light, anyway.

I registered the fact that he was going to kiss me just a split second before he committed. Chalk it up to inexperience. His lips brushed mine softly at first, testing me. One hand on my back pressed me closer against him, and he deepened the kiss, threatening to melt my bones. My knees started to go weak, and I pulled away hastily.

His brows went up in surprise, and he laughed. "Sorry. Want to just walk?"

I suddenly thanked the stars it was so dark. He couldn't see how I blushed. "Yeah. Walk." That seemed to be all I could spit out at the moment, to my horror.

"I like you, Sage." He lifted my hand and brushed his lips across my knuckles.

His words warmed me, and I blushed again. "I like you too, Peter."

# Chapter Fifteen

One cloudy day a couple of weeks later, I shopped until my feet ached in my strappy sandals. I was avoiding the condo. Wren was there, back from her short stretch of incarceration. I didn't know how to face her after our encounter on the beach. But I wasn't going to bring it up. What was the point? She was never going to understand my side in anything. She just didn't get it; that's what made her scary. Hadn't I accepted that a long time ago? It didn't do for us to fight. We had a job to do, and when we were called, we had better be ready.

So I decided to make peace with my twin, although I knew I would never forget being at her mercy on the beach. If I let myself, I could still feel the rush of water, my limbs hitting sand and rock like a rag doll in a washing machine. Now I understood how Wren would treat me when I threatened her power. I knew exactly what I had to fear.

Before I faced her, I went shopping. The perfect distraction.

While I was out, I picked out something special for Wren, too. I tried to remember that we were family, that we protected and supported each other, that we were stronger together. I tried.

"What's this?" Wren asked after I got home, as she slipped her fingers along the flowing sleeves of the spring green top I'd chosen for her. She touched the embroidered flowers in yellow and purple.

Something in her tone warned me. "A present from Godwin."

"Is this what you were doing?" She discarded the top on her bed and turned to face me.

"You're welcome, by the way," I spat at her. "I could have spent his money on myself." So much for making peace. I turned to go, but the look on her face stopped me.

"You know she beat me, Sage? She made me stand in place and she hit me over and over with a stick! She beat me every day." She lifted her shirt, and I could see the crisscross pattern of welts, oozing cuts, and pinkish scars. "I paid a heavy price while you were here _shopping_."

" _Recovering_ , Wren." I couldn't remember ever feeling such white-hot fury toward my sister. "I was here _recovering_ after you almost killed me! You crushed me under that wave and left me to die on the beach. I'm lucky I survived."

Her face crumbled as she dissolved into tears. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Sage. I didn't mean it."

"But you did hurt me – you, and no one else. You're going to own this. If you don't get it, next time I might not survive."

Her eyes flashed angrily. "I already told you I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't expect you to just sit there while the wave came down on top of you, Sage. Why didn't you move?"

"It happened too fast. I was too focused on you."

"Exactly. You were too damn focused on me. Restricting me. From killing a seagull? How long am I going to have to justify every single action to you, Sage?"

"Until you show some control!"

"How dare you? You've never given me a chance to control myself, Sage. You've stepped in at every juncture." She stepped toward me, and I did my best not to cower, but I know my fear showed in my eyes, because she backed down instantly.

I whispered, "Control, remember? Otherwise, one day you're going to kill someone, and there won't be a chance to explain after." I didn't say that I was the most likely person to be on the receiving end of her killing blow, even though it was true.

I hugged her, ignoring my revulsion. She clung to me for a moment, and I realized the other Hands really had scared her with their tough talk. I just hoped that meant she'd take them seriously.

With my sister back in Seattle, it was time the Lady had her new Hands at her service. Vows were set for the day after Wren returned.

I did everything I could to keep busy. It wasn't that I was nervous about the ceremony. That would be what it was, and I would have no control over it. That was the trouble – this was my final commitment to having virtually no control over my life. With the vows, I sealed the deal. But I didn't see any other choice open to me.

In the morning, we used the portals to reach Cape Foulweather. The aunts bathed and clothed us as they had so many times when we were children. I chafed at the attention, but it was part of the ritual.

Smelling fresh as the first rose and still damp from the bath, we hurried down the path, and through the portal, into the Lady's domain. The Hands led the way down a familiar tunnel, and we found the Lady exactly where I'd seen her last, looking out over the vast underground lake. The meager light from the fat, dripping candles in their sconces on the stone walls flickered and danced on the flat surface of the water.

The Lady turned from the lake to face us once all of the Hands were assembled. Her heel touched the water when she turned and a ripple shimmered in the darkness behind her as it crossed the otherwise still surface of the underground lake. A misplaced step.

I hoped that wasn't what I was doing here.

But maybe it wasn't misplaced at all. The Lady stepped to the side, and pointed to the water. "Walk in until you can no longer touch, and return to me anew, as my Hands."

The idea of stepping foot in that unknown lake, always hidden in darkness, sent skittering creepy-crawlies all over my skin.

It was a sign of utmost trust. And I didn't possess that. Still, I knew I was a valuable commodity, and the immortal with the grand plans wouldn't risk me over an initiation that was too dangerous. It wasn't like anything lived in there.

If I didn't move, I was going to talk myself out of this, and that wasn't an option. I'd come too far – my family had invested too much – to back out now. As if I would even survive the attempt. If I wasn't going to be of use to her, I knew the Lady would kill me, or at least have me killed. I wondered who she'd give the grisly task. Ivy? Briggs?

So back to the task at hand. _Walk into the water, Sage_. My mind gave the order, but my feet still weren't convinced. I felt a tug on my fingers, and turned to find Wren staring. She stepped forward, and I stepped with her. I would not make a show of my hesitation. I had no doubt the Lady was watching for signs of weakness, signs she would file away in that centuries-long memory and pull out when she needed to use them.

I stayed focused on hateful thoughts about the immortal forcing me to do this, and let my sister's gentle grip pull me along. She led me for once, and I didn't let myself pause. The water reached my calves, my thighs, my hips, swallowed my slight curves until it was shoulder height and closing in on my face.

I took a deep breath before I took that final step, and as I did, I felt a movement in the water next to me. Wren? But that wasn't the direction she'd been facing.

Panic gripped me as I lost my sense of direction and floundered for my footing. I was in too deep, and the fabric of my dress swam up until I was reminded of the beach. My face broke the surface and I gulped in air, seeking the light of the dais so I could find my way. I swam a few strokes before I found a toehold and pulled myself hastily toward the shore, thankful beyond belief when I was able to stand. Wren stood a few paces off, staring at me like I'd lost my mind.

Something touched my hip, and I almost lost my balance again. Where it had been a barely perceptible swish before, this was a blow. I scrambled for a moment, and then surged toward the bank. I tried not to move any faster than Wren, but I was nearly out of my mind with panic. I returned to the Lady sodden and scared, while my sister practically floated on air as she emerged from the lake.

Our appearance reflected our disparate states of mind too well. My unhappiness was clear as day, almost as shining clear as Wren's glee.

"You will speak the words as I say them," the Lady commanded. She said nothing of my floundering, but I was sure she'd noticed.

"We do as you will."

She nodded, a rare smile casting her features into a new breed of shadow.

I tried to put the contents of the lake out of my mind and follow along. She'd be mad if I messed this up.

"With my power and my days I will serve the Queen of Peace."

We repeated after her, stumbling a bit over the words and each other's voices.

"I will befriend no witch not of the family."

I frowned, unnerved by the words, but continued.

"I will think first of my Lady, next of my family, and then of myself."

That one was rather obvious.

"If I break these vows, the immortal I serve shall claim her price."

My lips threatened to still. She was asking me to vow that I'd let her kill me if I broke her rules? But she'd _claim her price_ with or without the vows, so I forced the words from my throat to avoid rocking the boat.

The Lady met our eyes. "Welcome to the fold, my young witches. I know you will serve me well."

And we were Hands.

# Chapter Sixteen

I lifted two fingers to signal Maj, and felt her horse huff a breath on my back at the sudden stop. Just as long as she didn't take a nibble. Fae could be an ornery mare. I pointed to the sign I'd noticed, a long red hair suspended between leafy branches of a young tree. Maj nodded, and grinned at my satisfied smile. She rolled her eyes in mockery and lifted her shoulders, as if to say _well genius, what's next_?

I reached out with my senses, my focus touching on the vibration of that hair, and reaching out. I felt a touch on my arm and opened my eyes.

"No astral projection," Maj cautioned. "Not a good idea on a horse, in the middle of the woods. If he spooks, you won't be able to correct him." All of this was said in a rushed whisper, though I was sure by now that Terra wasn't close.

I'd pulled the trick before, and Shadow was steady as a rooted tree beneath me, but I wasn't going to question my elder's advice to her face. I had a suspicion of the direction, but I needed to be sure before we wasted the afternoon. Ah, the fun things Hands thought up to keep their skills sharp between assignments. Things had been quiet in the weeks since our initiation. I wasn't sure if the Lady was giving Wren and me more time to heal after the beach, or what. I just knew we'd been in a holding pattern since the creepy lake ceremony.

I pulled a crystal pendulum from my pocket, and plucked the hair from the branch. Holding it in my palm, I held the crystal above it, and watched it begin to sway. It moved faster, and faster, pointing in the way I had suspected Terra went. I turned Shadow to follow this new piece of evidence, reining him in to move slowly so I could watch and feel for other signs.

"You've been getting out a fair amount since the end of twin school, from what I hear," Maj remarked from behind me.

I shot her a look of disbelief. "Not that much," I said weakly.

"What are you up to?"

I narrowed my eyes on the trail ahead, though my focus was no longer on Terra's location, but the ambush from behind. "I don't appreciate the accusatory tone. I'm not doing anything wrong, anything _out of the ordinary_."

"Why did you say it like that? We're far from ordinary, and you know it. I know you like to pretend, but don't get all caught up or you're going to get hurt in the end." Maj paused, like she was waiting for a response. I didn't offer one. "So what are you doing that's so ordinary? A boy?"

Heat flashed into my cheeks at her phrasing. "Nothing physical," I answered lamely.

The silence rose around us, broken only by the horse's footsteps on the trail and the occasional chirp of a hidden bird.

"That's good," Maj finally told me. She dropped into silence again. I knew she'd been sexually active as a teenager, but I'd seldom been around boys, and I'd certainly never gotten that close to anyone.

I'd been waiting for a good opportunity to ask Maj about something, and I had trouble picturing an opportunity better than this. "Maj? Is it possible to have a love life and be a Hand? I mean, I know you've had lovers. And I know Briggs and Ivy were lovers, back in the day–"

Maj sputtered, "What? How do you know that?" Despite the fact the trail was narrow, she pulled Fae right up alongside me so she could see my face. She obviously hadn't been the wiser about those two. "Come on! You just said something, you can't _not_ tell me now!"

I let it out all in a rush. "When I was fourteen, the aunts left us home with Melody, and I snuck into Ivy's bedroom. There was this box she used to hide away any time someone saw it. I figured it held something special, and I wanted to know what." I paused, admittedly for dramatic effect. When did I ever know a secret about the Hands that Maj hadn't already heard?

As the moment went on, Maj squirmed in her saddle beside me, and Fae tossed her head indignantly. "Okay, spill it! What do you want from me?"

I laughed. "It was full of love letters! As soon as I read Briggs' name, and thought about how much younger he is, I put it away and went and hid in my room. That's the last time I tried to dig into the aunts' secrets. Some things you just don't want to know."

"And that's sort of the deal. We don't fill each other in on these things, because a love life is not sanctioned. We're supposed to be available at a moment's notice, and be completely _hers_. That's the deal."

I rode on in sullen silence, determined not to answer her. She'd had lovers. Who was she to warn me off of having a boyfriend?

Maj suddenly went on. "Seriously, be careful. Don't get pregnant, and for the sake of the family, don't let any of the other Hands know. They'd be obligated to tell the Lady, and you know her policy. We keep our private lives to ourselves. You must do the same."

"So there are private lives?" I held up a hand at her explosive look, "You don't have to answer. Just hearing you say that makes it better. I'll shut the hell up now, okay?"

Maj pulled up on the reins and stopped Fae. "We've been talking enough. Check out our direction again so we can find Terra and get out of these woods."

The December wind whipped my hair in the darkness as I flew to Corvallis under cover of night. I didn't have time to drive, so I'd flown, even though it wore me out to fly so far without Wren by my side. The wind penetrated my magic-induced warmth without her, too. When we were together we could fly in most any weather condition, without feeling the cold. Enough energy flowed through us that we were always warm. Not tonight. My nose and fingers grew raw with the cold. But the chill kept me focused, and I needed to pay attention to stay steady in the air on my own.

I came in low beside the bridge over the Willamette River on my way into the college town, so as not to be seen. Beyond the waterfront, I could see the city center and knew the university lay beyond. Tonight I was headed to the same rooftop restaurant downtown where I'd eaten with David a couple of months ago. I had shaken off the foreboding that filled me after that talk with Maj, and decided to see my plans through. It had been too long since I'd seen him. I had run out of excuses. It would be good to see him. I just hoped it wouldn't be quite as awkward as the last time.

I landed on the riverside, in the park that stretched out along First Street, careful to avoid pedestrians enjoying the popular open space. Restaurants, bars and shops lined the street, but I walked past in a hurry. I was more than an hour late, and just hoped David was still there and I hadn't made the trip for nothing.

I nearly drooled as I walked through on my way to the stairs. After being airborne, pizza smelled almost too good to be true. I was still thinking about placing an order when I saw David in the middle of a crowd of guys, right where I'd met him before.

Thankful I'd had the foresight to take the stairs, I walked over and gave him a little wave.

"Sage! There you are. I'd started to think you weren't coming."

"Took me a while to get away. Going to introduce me?" I grabbed a chair near the closest space heater, and stretched my toes toward the circle of warmth it generated. Why we were outside in December was beyond me. My toes started to melt a little, and I sighed.

I smiled at the guys, who were looking from me to David, like they were waiting for something.

Like a magic trick.

I leveled my gaze at my friend David, and caught his smirk just before he said something to the guy standing next to him.

I resisted the urge to fidget, and instead caught a waiter's eye and placed an order for a large supreme pizza. Taking in my current company, I asked for two orders of breadsticks on the side. And a soda.

I sat and sipped my Coke while David went on with his friends. By this point, I wondered why I'd come at all. I'd have to leave in another hour or so, even though my digits had only recently thawed from the trip here, and he'd barely said hello to me all night. Like he wanted me to see him being popular rather than see him for himself. But if he was so uncomfortable in my company, why waste my time?

I thought of Peter, Mr. At Ease, and smiled.

Right then a hush descended – the kind that comes before a storm. I looked up in time to catch the first punch. David took it to the jaw, his head rebounding before he stared incredulously at the guy who hit him. A knot of worry tightened in my stomach.

The other guy, who was bigger than David in every way, threw another punch and caught David in the ear as he tried to sidestep it, fear stark in his eyes. He stumbled, and grabbed my arm. "Sage? Do something."

It was my turn to look incredulous. "What am I supposed to do? I don't even know what you're fighting about."

"What does that matter? Do one of your tricks. Or fly me off the roof or something." His voice had taken on a panicked edge.

I shook him off and stepped back, unable to see anything of my old friend in him, just a guy who wanted to show off my 'tricks' so he could benefit. "Good luck with that. What have you been drinking?"

The others were looking at him the same way, and that's how I had to keep it. My veins filled with ice. I could not believe he was trying to call me out and get me to admit to magic in front of all these people. Why would I ever consider such a thing? To save the scrawny hide of my first love? Not hardly.

I sucked down the last of my soda and stretched. By now others were looking at me. "He's an idiot," I stated for the record, "and I'm leaving."

The feeling he was missing something had distracted the guy who'd been hitting David. It was going around. Maybe that would give David a fighting chance and he wouldn't get the beating he deserved. Not my concern.

Unable to believe I'd wasted so much of my time on this guy over the years, I stalked off. My pizza was just coming up the stairs, and I made the waiter stop while I grabbed three slices and wrapped them in tin foil. Then I left, without a backward glance.

I went to the quiet riverfront park a couple of blocks away and ate, blessedly alone.

# Chapter Seventeen

Peter was late to our next class. When he walked in the door with a smile that reached his deep brown eyes, and chose the seat next to me, I knew I was lost. I flashed back to the kiss on the pier, my spine tingling at the reminder of his body so close to mine.

Maj was right. I was getting in over my head, in a situation where I had no control.

When Peter reached across to me with a folded up slip of paper, I jolted back to my surroundings. He wasn't smiling now. His brow furrowed with some sort of angst.

I opened the note, and read, _Sage, I need to talk to you after class._

I read it twice, and the most likely meaning of his note hit me full in the face. I couldn't look at him. What did he want to talk about? Would he say he didn't want to see me any more? Ten minutes ago that wouldn't have mattered so much. Then I'd realized I actually cared for him. I accepted I'd have to wait until after class to hear it from his lips. I set my gaze on the instructor at the head of the classroom, but I could feel Peter's eyes on my face.

After class, I fell into step beside him. I waited for him to speak.

"Are you mad or something?" he asked.

"Not mad." I let out a breath I'd held too long. "I just want you to be honest with me. You don't want to see me anymore, right? That's okay, I–"

He looked startled, "No. That's not what I meant. I needed to tell you I'm taking a job in Portland. I leave next week after classes end. You're the only reason I'm sad about it."

I felt a little warmer, his words melting into my skin like a soothing balm. But as his statement registered, I grimaced. He was leaving.

"Sage? Say something. Are you okay?"

"Well, now I'm sad, like you said."

He grinned. "Because you'll miss me?"

I turned heel and stalked off, blood rising in my cheeks and threatening to turn my vision red.

He grabbed me by the hand and pulled me off the sidewalk and into the park. We stood under the heavy canopy of a cedar, out of the rain. He brushed the droplets from my hair. "I'm going to miss you, Sage. But don't act like you're saying goodbye. We can still see each other on the weekends. This job is such a good opportunity – I've been working toward it for a long time. And Portland isn't that far."

I looked up at him, and he took the opportunity to capture my lips in a kiss far different from the last one. This kiss wasn't for saying goodbye. He meant what he said. I kissed him back, snaking my arms around his neck and exploring his mouth with luxurious slowness. When he pulled back, I kept my eyes closed, savoring the rare peace of the moment. "You're so beautiful," he whispered.

My eyes snapped open. "Um...thank you?"

He chuckled. "Come on, you must have people say you're beautiful all the time."

I shook my head. I knew I was attractive. I wouldn't lie about that. But it wasn't part of my reality. My strength and control were far more important. "Are you going to the diner?"

"Oh! I can tell a subject change when I hear one." He pulled me out from under the tree and started walking in that direction. "I'm on in half an hour. And I have to give my notice today, so maybe you should give me another good luck kiss before we get there."

"You're so full of yourself."

"I'm having a good day, that's all." He whistled the rest of the walk to the diner. I might have been annoyed if it was anyone else, but for some reason his sunny mood soaked through my skin like a much-needed vitamin. Before long, I almost felt like whistling, too. Almost.

My phone chimed just as I walked up to the condo. "Hi, Godwin," I answered.

"Where are you? You haven't been around much, and we want to go out to dinner."

I walked in as he said it, and he grinned at me and slapped the off button on his phone. "Good. You're here. Now let's go. Briggs and Wren are already in the car."

We went to the same restaurant we'd visited ages ago – that time when Wren almost snapped and attacked a woman. I wasn't going to ask whether that was deliberate. Maybe they'd forgotten the incident entirely. The place was empty except for an elderly couple at a table by the windows, engrossed in a crossword puzzle. The food was decent, better than Godwin's cooking. Briggs didn't dare set foot in the kitchen or we'd all run screaming rather than eat whatever he'd concocted.

"It's going to start soon, girls." Briggs pushed his plate away when he'd finished and stretched his arms back, folding them behind his head in a very self-satisfied posture.

I frowned, and Godwin spoke up. "Quit calling them girls. They're Hands now, and even you have to show some respect."

Briggs shrugged. "I didn't mean any disrespect."

"What's starting soon?" Wren sounded confused, as she often did when she actually bothered to pay attention to the conversation around her.

"Why, the next phase of your training, of course." Briggs fiddled with the spoon in front of him, ringing it against his water glass like he was about to make a toast. "The _applied_ phase."

Godwin rolled his eyes, but his brother pinned him with a stare. "You know it's true. It's time they really learned the ropes. We could use the help."

"You're talking missions?" I wasn't ready for that. I'd probably never be ready for it.

Wren brightened immediately. "I can't wait for the missions. We've been training for ages, so I'm over that part."

Briggs shook his head. "You don't know everything you need to know, not yet."

"Like what?" she asked.

"Like the best ways to kill a man with psychokinesis."

My blood roared in my ears, as panic made my adrenaline spike.

"There are many ways," he went on. "You can pull the breath from their lungs, but that one's pretty gross. You can crush them with something; that's easy, with very little personal risk. You can bury them alive, far underground, especially if you're both in on it."

I tried not to picture the acts as he spoke them, but they were too awful to keep out. My imagination readily supplied graphic depictions of his words.

"Godwin used to have a special way he liked to take them out."

I choked on my lime soda. Wren wore an intrigued expression, and since Briggs was usually arrogant and boorish, it wasn't a look he often received from her, and it seemed to encourage his chatty side. I was _not_ looking forward to hearing about the exploits of their youth.

Godwin groaned. "Don't start telling stories about me."

"Just one," Briggs promised. "Remember the witches you made burn?"

My stomach heaved. I couldn't have heard that correctly.

"Oh, yeah." Briggs was obviously enjoying the shock on my face, and Wren's full attention. "We can change the way molecules move, with enough practice. And you did practice, didn't you Godwin? Anyway, if you speed up the molecules enough...poof. Up in smoke." He laughed. "Actually, a spectacular amount of flame, as I remember it."

Godwin's neck had gone red in the way that only happened when he was really angry. I recoiled at even the glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye. Who was this man? If it wouldn't take brushing past him, I'd run now. I'd wear out a pair of shoes trying to get the horrific images out of my mind.

Godwin glared at his brother, and cast an uncomfortable look at Wren. "This is not an appropriate conversation. Yes, I went through a rough stretch. I did a lot of things I'm not proud of."

That was enough. If he'd done other things that blended in with _burning other witches_ , I could do without hearing them. I would not be forced to listen to more. I scooted past quickly and ran for the door.

Briggs caught up with me within a block. I tried to outpace him, but he kept up with me and he was so much taller that I was soon too tired to keep it up. He fell into an easy pace alongside my speed-walk, infuriatingly close.

"Sage, I didn't mean to upset you."

I turned to him, livid. "That's exactly what you wanted to do. You know I don't want to–"

"Yes, I know. We all know you don't have a violent bone in your body, Sage. But get used to it. You don't have a choice."

I fumed as we walked on. Why would they tell us this now, after we'd taken our vows? Would I have been able to swear my life to the Lady if I'd known I'd regularly be called on to murder people in her service?

But a part of me had known we were training for just that. It was just too hard to face, so I'd chosen to ignore it and hope it never became reality.

I hadn't done anything truly unforgiveable. Not yet. Maybe I could still escape. If anyone stood a chance of evading the Lady's Hands, I did. I knew how Godwin would track me, and I'd read and memorized every concealment spell I could get my hands on over the years. I had a fighting chance, if I was willing to give up all I knew and start over somewhere far away, and never return. Could I do that?

Warning bells registered in my mind as I popped out of my deep thoughts and realized where I was standing. I knew this block too well. In horror, I turned just in time to watch Briggs stride with his usual arrogance right inside the diner that was my sanctuary, a coincidence that set my teeth on edge and my nerves chattering with alarm.

I gulped as I stepped past the door and leaned against the wall, my heart hammering frantically. I couldn't just stand there with Peter working inside. What if he came out on a break or something? So I quickly spoke a camouflaging incantation under my breath. Now I'd be invisible to a casual perusal of the wall just outside the diner. I couldn't leave; I had to make sure Briggs didn't do anything sinister.

After a couple of minutes, I started to chafe at the restriction of standing still to blend in. Where was Briggs? We'd just had dinner, and I didn't want to listen to the sinking feeling in my gut. Was it food he'd gone in for, or was Briggs after Peter? I'd made my choice, and it would look weird if I joined him now, so I stood my ground and waited.

He exited the restaurant a moment later, carrying a pie box. He looked around, and then shut his eyes for just a second before they opened focused right on the spot where I stood. I dropped my camouflage spell and quirked an eyebrow at him.

"What's with the camouflage? And why didn't you come in with me?" Briggs asked with a touch of sullenness that was far beneath a man his age.

I shrugged, and started to walk in the direction of the condo. When he didn't join me for a few steps, I turned to look at him, and found him watching me, a cocky grin plastered in place.

I held his eyes. He couldn't know. There was no way he could know.

"Peter is a nice boy, Sage. I can see how a young girl like you might find him attractive."

"I'm not that young." My childish tone made my words sound foolish. But I was just buying time. I wouldn't admit anything.

"Has the Lady given you the leave to date, when she's always denied the rest of us?" he asked snidely.

I tried to hold my tongue in check, but his secret affair with Ivy was ready to flow right off of it and change the direction of this conversation entirely. I knew I couldn't afford his anger now. Not if he knew about Peter. So I chose my words carefully.

"I know you've dated in the past, Briggs."

"What?" He wrenched his head to the side with near-comical surprise. I might have laughed if I wasn't currently trying to keep from wetting myself out of fear.

"You and Ivy were an item once. I saw the letters when I was a kid." I couldn't help it. I held up my hands like I was surrendering, caving to the need to show some submission so Briggs wouldn't tear me apart right here and now. Of course, he wouldn't dare. Still, the impulse to show him I knew he was stronger was almost animal. He _was_ stronger, and I was afraid.

It was my turn to be surprised when he laughed out loud, and clapped me lightly on the shoulder. "You found them when you were a kid, huh? Well, we all do things when we're kids that aren't so wise. All of that is in the past. With Ivy, I mean."

I didn't say anything. I turned to leave again, hoping we could just move on and get back to the condo. This time when he reached for me, he gripped my arm and spun me toward him.

"You'll stop seeing the boy, Sage. You'll stop seeing him before I have to take further action. _Right_?"

"He's about to move out of the state, anyway, Briggs. We've gone on a total of two dates." I had no idea how much Briggs knew, and hoped it wasn't enough to call my bluff. He hadn't mentioned the college, so I could hope that secret, at least, was safe.

"Good. Tell him you're through the next time you talk. Understand? You don't have time for a boyfriend."

I nodded, swallowing against a stubborn lump in my throat. Maybe the tears blurring my vision would convince him I'd been properly chastised, that I meant to follow his advice. Of course, that wasn't what I had in mind at all.

"I do believe you've had too much time on your hands for a while now." Briggs lifted my chin so I had to meet his gaze or acknowledge that I was avoiding it on purpose and cause suspicion. I set my jaw and glared at him, acting like the angry young witch he probably was at my age, giving him exactly what he'd expect. "We'll have to remedy that, Sage."

I refused to say anything, and he finally stepped away and walked casually toward his home. I trailed a few steps behind him, taking the opportunity to step on the head of his shadow when the angle of the streetlights made it possible. _Real mature, Sage._ I seethed at my impotence as I stewed over all he'd said.

I was penned in like a bull in the box just before his turn at the rodeo. First that ugly tale about Godwin's exploits as a younger Hand, and then Briggs with his superior display over my secrets. How dare he? I'd never done anything to damage the family. And what kind of standard was he holding me to, anyway? We both knew the Lady would soon brand me with her type of ugliness. A few dates were nothing compared with what she would ask of me.

A wave of shock hit me, and I stumbled to a stop, glad I was already behind Briggs so I'd have a second to gather my composure.

Briggs had just revealed he knew about Peter...but could his true motivation have been to tie me tighter to my vows? If I balked at the Lady's orders now, Briggs had something to hold me to her will – both a carrot and a stick. As long as I played nice, he'd ignore my private life. But if I strayed from the path, he'd come down on me hard. And not just me. He'd take my transgressions out on Peter, whose only sin was that he'd been nice to me, and that I liked him.

"I can see you've realized the bind you're in, Sage. I know you'll take the wise course of action, just like you've been trained. And I'd _never_ question your loyalty." Briggs was closer than I'd thought; close enough I knew he could see the horror on my face.

"Don't worry, Sage. I won't tell your dear Godwin about our little chat. You see, he thinks you're far more innocent than you actually are. And I'm not going to ruin this little _daddy's girl_ thing he has going on with you."

His words made my relationship with Godwin sound sick, and I didn't appreciate the insinuation. Godwin had grown to treat me like a daughter over the years, and we had a connection that went beyond just the magic. But lust had never come into it, and the bizarre twist of the conversation made me question his grasp on reality. Was he jealous?

My expression must have conveyed my hostility, because suddenly Briggs was the one with his hands raised, in the same posture I'd used to calm him down earlier. He laughed again, the sound grating on my nerves because I knew I'd been bested, and he knew it, too.

So much for starting over.

# Chapter Eighteen

The very next night, we left for our first real mission as Hands. The Lady sent Briggs and Godwin to track and dispose of a witch who was practicing without an immortal patron. We would shadow them, still learning the ropes.

_What am I doing here?_ I thought as I absorbed the Lady's orders. But I was there. And now I would pay for my complicity with every last tattered shred of my innocence. Briggs had hinted last night that the Lady would send us to do something terrible. A thing that I'd never come back from. Once I'd done it, would the Lady truly own me?

I had no choice.

From the moment I heard about it, I was nauseous. As I packed a small backpack, unsure of what the next few days would bring, I wished we wouldn't find the erring witch, so we couldn't carry out the Lady's will. There wasn't much chance of that, though.

We traveled to Alaska by portal, stepping through the Lady's doorway to a little fishing town with a cannery by a bay. The distinct smell of a fishing town did little to help the state of my stomach, or to recommend the place to visitors. There wasn't much to see there, anyway.

Briggs got us a motel room, and we waited while Godwin scryed for the witch. He held a tattered glove that I assumed must belong to our target. Godwin's efforts would be more precise this much closer to the witch we hunted. Sure enough, his crystal pendulum made three short circuits before settling on a location almost a hundred miles south. "Let's go."

A wind colder than any I'd known escorted us to the site, buffeting the sleeves of my dark wool pea coat. When I flew with my twin, the magic we used to stay aloft kept our bodies warm. This was the greatest test I'd ever given that aspect of psychokinesis, but it worked; I wasn't cold, despite the below-freezing air temperature.

My mind kept darting to possible ways to throw off our pursuit, to allow the witch time to escape. No matter what I tried, it would be fruitless in the end. We would find him. And if I did make an attempt to stop Briggs and Godwin, that would be it for me, and probably for Peter, too. The Lady wouldn't stand for her Hands questioning her will. Our sole obligation was to carry out her orders to the letter. At the very least, she would imprison and _retrain_ me, a process I wasn't interested in experiencing. The miles fell away to my frantic thoughts of betrayal and punishment.

Then Briggs and Godwin descended, and Wren and I followed, our feet touching the ground with barely a rustle. The fresh scents of forest and earth welcomed us. The peaceful scene, and its contrast with our purpose, teased at the edges of my senses.

As we walked forward, my mind felt hazy, my body unresponsive, like I was watching the events in motion, not participating in them.

The only building in sight was a run-down cabin. There were no other houses nearby. Pity for him.

Briggs motioned for us to stop, and kicked in the door, a yell of surprise greeting the splintering wood.

"Did she send you?" Our target's voice shook in terror at our sudden appearance. He was skeleton thin, with weeks worth of beard and a wild look in his eyes. He'd probably been good looking once, but that time was past. Despite his question, he knew who we were. Had he known we were coming for him?

Briggs wasn't angry. I'd seen more passion over his choice of breakfast. All I could see was his resolve, his gray-blue eyes fastened on the witch he'd been sent to deal with. "The Queen of Peace has information that you are practicing without a patron." Briggs didn't ask if his information was correct; it didn't matter. If we were sent after a witch, talking wasn't the deal. Ensuring they couldn't expose the networks and subculture of witches was the deal. We hadn't come to prove anything, or convince him of a better way. We'd come to kill.

"Chaos is my patron," he tried to argue his fate. Was it the stony glares at the mention of that name that made him lose it and start begging? "It isn't fair! I haven't done anything wrong!" He made the mistake of throwing himself at Wren's feet, where she kicked him viciously upon contact. The heel of her boot made a sickening crunch as she brought it down on his shoulder.

I took an involuntary step back, shocked at her violence, even though this was Wren, and I probably shouldn't have been. I had to cover my reaction – I couldn't leave. I couldn't say no, though the word screamed through my mind as the witch's death unfolded before me. There was no avoiding what came next.

Briggs gave Wren a dark look when the witch cried out, and as the hunted witch turned to find help somewhere among our party of death, Briggs ended it with a killing blow. He gripped the man's chin and wrenched upward as Godwin stepped back, and with their power linked, they broke the man's neck in the bargain.

His eyes were fixed on me as he died. They stopped me short. Was it the fear I saw there?

There was no Queen of Peace here to inspire that fear. Just us. Her Hands.

It didn't matter now. The witch was dead before he hit the ground.

I thought of Maj, and her son, who would have been doomed to a fate just like this if the Lady found him. A Hand's son, who had defected to Chaos? Maybe she'd try to get some children out of him first.

The Chaos witch we'd come for, now a corpse on the floor, reeked of wasted potential. I felt my bile rise in my throat and choked it down again. I would not show my disgust. I couldn't.

But the act flashed in my mind, over and over. I couldn't even look at my sister as we departed the scene. My twin, who could so brutally refute a plea for help.

I had no choice but to swallow my misgivings. I'd never felt more alone; these people I called family weren't like me. I said nothing, not even to Wren.

Add that to my growing list of secrets.

Wren and I weren't exactly salaried employees. We didn't get a retirement fund, and we would have to pay a doctor in cash if we ever needed treatment for some mundane illness. A healer in the family usually handled injuries – they brought up too many questions when you lived our lifestyle. Instead of salaries, the Lady gave us gifts. Extravagant gifts.

The first came when we returned from Alaska, the _job_ complete. Calling murder a job was twisted enough to turn even my head, jaded as I was swiftly becoming. Briggs and Godwin took us straight to the Lady.

"So, it is done?" the Lady intoned. "Ever the efficient pair, my Hands. Now to our young ones." Her eyes glittered like a cat on the hunt as we kneeled in front of her.

"Wren remains uncontrolled. If they'd been alone, it may have been messy."

The Lady laughed, and touched Wren's face to encourage my sister to look at her. "There's nothing wrong with liking your job. Just be sure to put the mission before your excitement." The smile faded, but her unwavering gaze remained on my sister. Her voice grew firm. "Don't make a mess that requires others of my Hands to drop what they're doing and come for you. That, I won't stand for."

Reaching back behind her opulently jewel encrusted chair, she pulled out a deep wooden box, with panels of what looked like ivory along the top. As she pressed a particular spot, the lid slid open smoothly to reveal gold jewelry with all manner of jewels; diamonds, rubies, sapphires, emeralds, pearls. No piece looked extravagant on its own, but together they were quite a sight.

"For you, my newest Hands. Your first mission is complete, and I welcome you again to the fold. Your fellows shall begin your introductions to the family. Soon your missions will be your own. First, you must decide where you'll reside. My Hands are beholden to none but me. I will house you as you like. You need only tell me where you desire to live."

Wren looked surprised, but I quieted her with a look, faster than the Lady could see it. "We have not discussed it. Let us do so and tell you our wish next time. For now, we'll return to Seattle." I had loose ends to tie up in Seattle, because after recent events, I didn't plan on being there much any more. I still couldn't stand to look at Godwin after what I'd learned.

Wren frowned, but the Lady stopped any protest in its tracks with a glare that must have reminded my sister of her recent stay. Ever since, we'd been staying in Seattle so Godwin could help control Wren if anything happened. When Wren shifted her gaze to the floor, the Lady finally spoke. "That will suit fine. Briggs, Godwin, stay and speak with me on another matter that must be seen to."

Wren was ready to argue about this housing issue as soon as we were out of earshot, walking the stone-lined tunnels of the Realm. "Of course we're going back to the Cape. Why would we live anywhere else?"

"Look Wren. The Lady will give us a house. There's already a house at the Cape, and the aunts will let us stay any time we like. I want another house at our disposal, just for us. This is the big perk now that we're done with twin school. Come on."

Her eyes lit up, but then narrowed as she considered me. My gloating must have been obvious. "Where do you want this house?"

"Portland."

To my surprise she said, "Portland's not bad. I am not living in Seattle," she spat the name. I still didn't get what she hated so much about Seattle, but for once I agreed with her.

Wren giggled. "Do you think we can get our own TV?"

I rolled my eyes. Then I hefted the box of jewelry, pointing to the ivory inlay. "Soon you'll be able to afford a TV for each room."

Her giggle grew to a full-out guffaw. She was definitely in shock.

Her laughter pierced my calm; I didn't know how she could laugh after what we'd just seen.

I stepped through the portal first, into the Seattle tunnel that was distantly attached to the city's famed Underground. Wren grimaced in disgust as she stepped through to stand beside me. Like this was _that much worse_ than any other portal entrance. They were all the same, underground and hidden. Dark and damp and somewhat smelly.

"Don't you worry about what we have to do for the money?" I couldn't help it, the question just popped out. I trudged up the stairs ahead of her, straight into the condo where Briggs and Godwin lived. I opened the door with my power before we reached it, and then we were safe within welcoming walls. Once more, I saw the Chaos witch in my mind who would never reach safety again.

The silence wore on, and when I'd had enough I looked at her, only to find her watching me. "Why are you worried about it? Didn't you know what we trained for? We're trained killers, Sage. That's the deal. And you treat me like a child." She shook her head and stalked off, leaving me to wonder how much I'd underestimated my sister's understanding of our situation.

I hardened my resolve against the sting of my final day on a college campus. I ignored the crowds of other students, their bright outfits and merry chatter a garish, grating annoyance. The final class didn't cover much. Maybe it would have been better if I hadn't come at all. But I _wanted_ to be here.

I swallowed against self-pity. That wouldn't do. There were certain expectations to live up to, and being mired in doubt and depression wasn't going to get me anywhere. I tried to focus on what Ms. Warren was saying, but her bouncy, stylish hair and obvious comfort at the head of the class were all I could make out around the hectic patterns of my thoughts. I envied that comfort, her apparent ease with her chosen profession.

Choice. Must be nice.

Peter left for his last shift at the diner right after class, but I wanted to talk to Ms. Warren. I needed to thank her for taking a chance on me.

"Ms. Warren?" I held the door open for her – she was carrying a stack of books students had borrowed and returned during the final class of the term.

"Thanks, Sage."

We walked along, talking about plans for the winter break, until we reached her office building. "Did you need to speak with me, Sage? I hope it's to tell me you're returning for the next class in the series. You're a strong student. You should be getting credit for your work."

I shrugged, and when she tried to meet my gaze, I avoided her eyes. "Thanks for the opportunity. I won't be coming back next term. I really appreciate it, though." I said awkwardly.

"You seem so interested in class." Ms. Warren sounded surprised, and now I regretted having this conversation. She was seeing me too clearly. "If it's a schedule issue, I'm sure you can find a class or two that fit around work or whatever."

I swallowed the lump that had grown in my throat and tried for a smile. The opportunity, the whole thing – this attempt at _normal_ – it slipped away from me. I felt it go. A hollow ache was all that remained, where last week I'd felt hope.

I'd never be back. I wasn't a college student. I was a Queen witch. A Hand, no less. The Lady had work for me. She always would.

I squared my shoulders and met Ms. Warren's eyes. Sometimes only a lie will do. "Maybe I'll be back in a term or two." There was the smile I'd been seeking. Fake and plastic, sure, but it was a smile.

I'd begun to wonder when the layers to the Lady's operation would stop falling away. When would I know the true story? I shivered at the prospect. Had generations of Queen witches, the best of our family – or so we were told – actually stood by while the Lady massacred any witch that didn't belong to her?

No. They'd done more than stand by. They'd carried out her plots for her. The Hands had killed witches for far pettier reasons than I'd ever understood.

My suspicious nature took over, and I began to ask questions. I kept it subtle, a nudge here and there to my hosts while traveling, inviting stories of the family in their youth. I encountered no soul willing to part with harsh words of the Lady, not to her Hand, anyway. I wasn't even sure what I was looking for.

I had plenty of opportunities to ask. For the next several months, Wren and I traveled regularly with either Maj and Terra or Briggs and Godwin, carrying the Lady's tidings to family around the world. It was the family's introduction to the new Hands.

We made use of each and every portal and doorway the Lady possessed. I grew accustomed to the strange stomach-dropping sensation of stepping _between_ , and got to know the Realm in more detail than I'd ever been allowed before. Some of the portals hadn't been used since Maj and Terra were new Hands, and others were traversed daily.

One morning we came through a portal, somewhere on the east coast of the United States – I was starting to lose track, we'd been traveling far and wide to meet distant family. This particular morning I felt one of the witches in the room raising power against us right after we arrived. Just as fast as it came, the feeling fled, and I was left looking around, unable to find the source of the power I'd felt. I guessed the witch was surprised and then regretted pulling power, because they'd stopped suddenly and weren't using their power now.

Godwin nodded, and I understood he'd felt the same thing, but didn't consider it worth worrying about. Still, I took care to memorize the faces around me, and the other things my senses told me about these witches, so I'd be able to identify them later.

One felt particularly strong. He had almond eyes and a dark complexion, with a muscular, attractive build. He was probably in his early thirties. He didn't smile. In fact, when he caught me watching him he looked almost belligerent. I got the impression he wasn't used to maintaining a hostile posture...so this behavior was directed specifically at us. What was he trying to avoid? Something the Lady should know, but didn't?

Wren was considering me with her lips pursed. It didn't look like she'd caught on to the reason for my distraction, and I didn't want to put this witch in danger by bringing him to my sister's attention, so I turned from him and considered the rest of the room. I was almost certain I'd just been looking at the witch who'd dared to raise his power to the Lady's Hands. Yet I couldn't bring myself to draw attention to him and be the cause of an ugly death. Eventually the Lady would realize just how neutered one of her new Hands was. But I'd deal with that when the day came.

We delivered our message, and were welcomed with ceremony, with formality. I didn't know what this section of the family had suffered under the Lady's rule, but their fear of us ran deep. More than once eyes swiveled away from mine as I sought to meet them. Whatever the Lady had wrought here, now they knew there were yet more Hands, and she'd made a point of introducing them. The yoke grew tighter. I could feel the apprehension in the room.

At one point, I needed some air. The fear tainting their hospitality was so thick I gave in to the desire to escape. I left through the back door, and circled around the side of the house, where I didn't think I'd be seen. As I came around the house, I saw the witch who'd been behaving suspiciously hugging one of the women who'd served us dinner.

"Are they here for us? Oh god, what do we do?"

"They're not here for us. Just some routine introduction. Stay calm. I think one of them was suspicious of me."

My heart sank. What had I stumbled on? As I thought it, I tripped over a pail, clumsily announcing my presence. Both witches turned their faces in my direction, with expressions of complete futility.

"What is it you are hiding from the Lady?" I was surprised at the resignation in my tone. If I had to turn them over, could I do it?

They braced themselves, and rose into the air, making to run. They did it with nearly as much grace as my twin and I possessed. They emanated the power of a bonded pair, their individual powers magnified, in the way of Hands.

"Wait!" I urged. "Don't run. Tell me how...you're obviously not twins."

Maybe it was the panicked rush of my words, or maybe the fact I hadn't called out for help or tried to stop them with anything but words...

He hesitated. The woman, who I now realized had to be his lover, met his gaze steadily.

They returned to the earth, but maintained a defiant posture.

"I am Sage, one of the Lady's newest Hands."

"Yes. You're the ones they call the Foulweather twins."

I inclined my head, greeting my name on his lips. "And you are?"

"I am Lionel, and this is Grace. I want you to know now that what we do harms none. It is none of the Lady's business–"

"Lionel, hush," Grace cut in. She met my gaze boldly. "Everything is the Lady's business, as her Hand will surely tell you."

"As she says," I told them. "Tell me."

Grace glared at her companion. "Here, we use our power more than the Lady would like. For instance, Lionel and I have practiced together since we were children, and we are a powerful pair. Will the Lady kill us for this? For loving each other, for working together? We help everyone! You must understand," she explained.

I put a finger to my lips, encouraging her silence. "I won't say anything about this. The Lady would have my head for letting you go." I smiled. "Strike that. I'm a Hand – she'd have me beaten for it."

Lionel cleared his throat, and I realized he was close to tears. "You're letting us go?"

I saw the Chaos witch in my mind, felt the cold Alaska wind, heard the crunch of his bones as my twin brought her heel down on his fragile, mortal body. The snap of the killing blow. I saw my mentors' expressionless faces as the life went out of a witch, on account of us. If I said something, is that how these witches would go out? And could I live with that result, if it was what the Lady determined was required? _No._

"I can't let her kill you when you're just embracing what she bred you to be. But if I hear that you've done wrong – or if you risk unveiling our abilities to the world – I will bring you down. Understood?"

They both nodded hastily, looking nervous.

"Good. I must return to the table. Be safe, cousins."

Grace reached for me as I turned to go. She wrapped me in a hug, and whispered in my ear, "We will never forget this."

I left them to their magic, my soaring heart a testament that I'd done what was right.

As we finished dinner later, the rest of the party none the wiser as to what had taken place outside, Godwin said our goodbyes for us.

"Give the Queen of Peace our regards," our host said, his tone obviously grateful. Their relief that we wouldn't be staying longer was palpable in the nearly silent room. It was as if they were holding their breaths until we were gone.

"How long has it been since that portal was used?" I asked after we stepped into the Realm. "They seemed well past surprised, Godwin."

"It has been a while." He didn't elaborate, and I didn't press the point. Curiosity didn't warrant making a nuisance of myself. I needed to save my few opportunities to press for information until I'd teased out more of the Lady's story. After seeing Lionel and Grace today, the Lady's preference for twins made less sense to me than ever. What was I missing?

# Chapter Nineteen

The Lady already owned property in Portland. A pair of Hands had lived there half a century ago, and their descendants had called it home ever since, protecting the portal on the grounds. She offered it up as soon as we made the request, and neither Wren nor I asked about the witches who had to give up their posh home to the new Hands. It was posh, too. Fit for the best among the Queen witches. It was perfect for us.

The large three-story house stood on almost an acre of manicured grounds, a decent amount of property since you could see downtown from the top floor. Old apple trees, several fountains, an indoor swimming pool, greenhouses, an abandoned kennel...I spent hours roaming the property and learning its secrets. It was a ridiculous amount of space, but as it was the Lady's money, I wasn't inclined to argue.

Renovations were underway. We'd share the kitchen and formal living space on the ground floor. Wren got the second floor, and the top floor was mine. The many windows provided an unadulterated view of the cityscape, and the sunsets. I had a kitchenette and a bathroom complete with whirlpool tub and warmed stone tile. Then there was the library, my personal jewel. Most of the shelves were still bare, but I'd put up the many painted tiles I'd purchased over the last couple of years. They'd brightened my bedroom at the Seattle condo, and now they filled the space I hoped would eventually house a vast collection of the classics, on down to my eclectic selection of popular fiction. I already owned a good store of books on scrying, crystals, potions and spells. I never worked at a desk, so I had a large table I could spread a map on, and several overstuffed chairs to curl up in.

Until the renovations were complete, Wren and I were sleeping in guest bedrooms on the ground floor. I stood in mine, looking out at the night sky; the city was too bright to make out many stars, but the moon was nearing full, the bright orb enchanting. I'd been trying to reach Peter all night, but his phone just kept ringing. I'd just stepped into what would be Melody's bright and welcoming room – she was moving with us, as it turned out – when he answered, jolting me out of my thoughts.

I could tell Peter was smiling even though we weren't in the same room. "Hello, beautiful."

I flushed. "Hi."

"It's nice to hear from you," he told me, and I shut my eyes. What was I doing, risking him this way?

I'd only seen Peter twice since the run in with Briggs, who hadn't said another word about the incident in the past two months. Conveniently, Briggs and Godwin were half a world away on a mission this week. I was going to keep seeing Peter. I'd just have to be very careful about timing.

"I have some news," I told him.

"Yeah? What's going on?"

"I've inherited a house in Portland. I'm standing in it right now."

"What? So, you'll be in town? That's great! I can't wait to see more of you."

The way he phrased that made my heartbeat accelerate. It was the response I'd been hoping for. I didn't want him to feel crowded. I really liked Peter, but it wasn't like we were serious. With my life, I couldn't really consider getting serious, anyway.

"I just moved in," I confirmed.

"How did you inherit a house? Did someone die?" His tone said if that was the case, I should have brought that up first.

I cringed. How to explain? "No, there wasn't a death. The property was available, and it's more of a family Trust thing."

"Very convenient timing."

I just cleared my throat, knowing no words would save me on this one. Luckily, he let it go.

"What are you going to be doing in town?"

"Oh, my job takes me all over," I told him honestly.

"Your job working for your _family_?" he asked. The tone caught me off guard. Apparently I hadn't covered as well as I meant to when it came to my responsibilities. His connotation was clear, and even I knew the popular culture reference to the mob. But it wasn't exactly untrue. We were just a whole other problem the media had never introduced him to. You wouldn't catch us running guns. We didn't need them. If you caught us for anything, it would be stealing historical artifacts or the mysterious disappearance of certain reclusive members of society.

"Yeah."

I couldn't take the tension, not to mention I'd been keeping half an ear out for Wren, and it was starting to worry me. She'd be less likely to overhear a conversation I had outside, so I threw on a coat and went out through the kitchen. I'd done a fair job of managing a "normal" personality on top of the ridiculously secretive lifestyle I'd grown up with. But my two worlds colliding? Just the idea made my head pound.

"I'm glad you'll be in town." Peter told me as I walked between the wintering rows of my new garden. Here and there brightly colored crocuses marked the first spark of spring. I could barely make them out by the moonlight, their rich colors flooded with shadow.

"Me, too."

"Saturday is my birthday," he said. The change of topic was a relief.

"Is it?" I had no idea what he expected from me for his birthday.

"So you should take me out to dinner."

I grinned. "Thanks for the hint. Any particular place?"

"I'll text you the directions. You can pick me up at seven."

"Done." I turned back toward the house, and caught the outline of a figure facing me from a second story window. Wren was completely still, but I could feel her eyes pinned on me. I didn't falter by even half a step. To do so would cause suspicion. Instead, I waived, and she raised a hand in response. My heart thudded in my chest. I could still feel her watching me. I'd probably have to answer a question or two about my late night telephone call. My mind began filtering through possible lies before I'd hung up the phone, but by the time I went inside, Wren was nowhere to be seen.

Saturday night I knocked on Peter's door at seven o'clock sharp.

He whistled when he saw me, his eyes making that slow circuit of my form that I so enjoyed when it came from him. It made the hour I'd spent choosing an outfit well worth it. "You look beautiful, as always."

"Happy birthday," I told him with a grin. "Get in."

We went to Peter's favorite Portland restaurant. The food was good, small plates of all sorts of delicacies. Later, I honestly couldn't remember a single bite, I was so focused on the man. His hand brushing my arm as he confided something, or his gaze locked onto my lips in that way that said he was thinking about kissing me.

It was a good night.

After dinner, I ordered a slice of cake to go, and Peter caught my eye. "Leaving already?"

"Oh, we're not going home. I have something else planned."

He laughed. "You're good at this."

"It's kind of fun to spoil someone. I don't really have a lot of friends," I blurted. I blushed beet red and wanted to hide under the table.

"I seriously doubt that," he said sincerely. He smiled at me, even though he must have seen I was embarrassed. "And if it's true, that just leaves more of you for me. I'm good with that."

Exasperated, I was saved by the waiter and our check. Peter reached for it, but I knocked his hand away. "You must be joking. You always pay, and it's your birthday."

"I might let you drive, but it's beneath my male dignity to let you pay."

"Birthday," I stated firmly.

He grinned and nodded. "Point conceded. I'll just have to take you somewhere special next weekend to make up for it."

"Are we making another date?" I said, folding my hands in front of me for something to do with them. Why did he make me so nervous? Nervous in a good way, a heart-racing, sweaty-palm, I-hope-he-kisses-me way.

"Don't make any other plans for next Saturday."

"The whole day?"

"Come on, I promise it'll be fun."

"You're always fun."

He tilted his head to the side, considering me. "Thank you. Maybe next Saturday I'll be upgraded from fun to sexy and romantic." He waggled his eyebrows in a silly touch that lightened his words. It was like someone had taught him how to handle me. His words made me want to run for my life. I wasn't ready for sexy and romantic, not really. But with him? He just made me feel so relaxed, so normal, with a laugh always a heartbeat away. I'd never laughed so much with anyone. We just fit.

What I had to do was keep from falling in love. Even with Peter – maybe especially with Peter – I just couldn't risk it. My life had recently been tinted with added danger, the shadows haunted with people it was my job to hurt. I wasn't comfortable in my own skin right now. I shouldn't be so comfortable with him.

The waiter brought my change and our slice of cake to go. I shrugged back into my jacket and strolled outside, hand in hand with Peter. I slid into the leather driver's seat of my Mustang and watched Peter click his seatbelt into place. "Where are we going?" he asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know. You're lucky I'm not blindfolding you." I regretted saying that as soon as it was out.

"I would let you blindfold me, Sage. Sounds hot."

"Quit it!" I slapped him lightly on the shoulder.

I drove for a few minutes before taking a tight right turn. The road wound uphill, through a neighborhood, and then past it, to a narrow street lined with century-old houses pressed close together and backed up to a wooded space in the center of the city. Up, up, up we drove.

I risked a glance at Peter to find him watching me with a smile. I sighed. "You know where we're going, don't you?"

"Yep. Mount Tabor. I hiked here once."

"At least you didn't come with another girl." I shot him a narrow-eyed glare in jest.

"Never." He said it with such certainty that my heart thudded frantically. If he kissed me now I'd never want to come up for air. Luckily I had both hands on the wheel, and a curvy road to mind.

We finally reached the parking lot, and I took a deep breath as I turned off the engine. Outside, I took his hand in mine, grateful driving had helped my anxiety ease and my palms were no longer dripping sweat. I'd staked out a park-bench overlooking the city, and led the way, carrying our dessert, the rich smell of evergreens filling my nostrils.

He whistled for the second time tonight when he saw the view, millions of tiny lights that marked the city under the stars. "Wow. Now this I haven't seen." He turned back to me, brushing a strand of my hair back behind my shoulder. He left his hand resting there, sure it belonged. His eyes were on my lips again, and a tingle ran up my spine as he closed the small distance between us, his lips soft and sure on mine. I could feel his body heat in the chill of the late winter night, but I resisted the urge to press closer to him. I didn't want him to get the wrong idea. With that in mind, I broke the kiss, and smiled at him. "Cake?"

We didn't say much as we ate our cake, sitting next to each other on the park bench. He set it aside finally, and stretched his arm around me, pulling me closer to him. He was big enough, or I was small enough, that I fit under his arm and against his body like I was made to.

_Stop thinking like he's your soul mate or something, Sage_ , I silently admonished. I frowned, suddenly full of dread. _Tomorrow is another day full of whatever the Lady wills, not what Sage wants_.

"Do you want to see my new house?" I don't know why I offered. It was risky, and probably foolish, to show Peter where I lived. I didn't have to worry about Wren; she never stayed up this late. I was more worried about me. The truth was I wanted to see him in my new home. I wanted him to be a part of my life – a real and true part of it, not relegated to the shadows like he wasn't supposed to exist. I shouldn't want it. It was dangerous to want it.

Now that the offer had been made, I held my breath, waiting to see what he'd say.

"I'd love to." He held me closer to him for a moment, and then kissed me on the cheek before releasing me.

We drove by his house so he could get his car. He didn't want me to have to give him a ride once I was home. Thoughtful. And sexy. And romantic. I was in trouble.

Most of the lights were out when we got to my house. Peter looked at the property and then caught my eye with his brows raised.

I just smiled. "See, you should let me pay more often," I joked.

"Yeah, I guess so." He dropped another kiss on my cheek. "You going to show me around?"

I was glad Wren's temporary room was at the back of the house, close to the kitchen. I showed him most of the first floor, and then made excuses about the renovation upstairs. I didn't trust myself in that intimate a setting. In fact, having him here at all was making me nervous.

He seemed to catch on, and checked his watch. "It's late. Will you walk me out?"

Peter smiled as he leaned in for a goodnight kiss outside my door. I kissed him back, a tingle of pleasure trailing down my spine. Tonight I'd begun to wonder how long I could avoid a deeper intimacy with Peter, or how long I'd want to. His kisses, his heat, his confidence, they all stirred something in me I never expected to find. The idea of making love to Peter didn't make me blush as it would have a few months ago.

For now, avoidance was necessary. The idea of sleeping with Peter made me feel very guilty. There was too much I wasn't telling him, and we were already too close to justify getting closer before he knew some of my many secrets. When I thought about his smile, it sent a jolt of fear straight to my heart. Some people weren't meant to have lovers. With my life–

I refused to let my thoughts continue down that road. Instead I kissed Peter, and enjoyed these moments I stole for myself. At least, I was enjoying it until a figure stepped out from behind the bush that bordered my porch. David's expression surprised me. What did he have to be so angry about?

A single stride and Peter had stepped in front of me, facing David. He also noted the expression on David's face, and turned to me. "Do you know him?"

"Childhood friend," I stated bluntly. "No longer relevant."

"No longer relevant?" David snarled. He took a step toward us, but stopped, unwilling to challenge Peter. "I was relevant in Corvallis a couple of months ago."

Peter watched me, his eyes widening slightly the only change in his expression. "Sage? A couple of months? Were you dating this guy?"

"I went to visit a friend, and he didn't prove to be a good friend. I hadn't planned on seeing him again."

"Is that how it is?" David glared. I wondered what had happened that night I left him at the restaurant. Had he taken a beating after counting on my magic to get him out of it? I hoped so.

"That's how it is." I stretched to my full height – which had never impressed anyone – and put on a regal expression. I knew those well, and how hard they were to argue with. "Look, David. I'm grateful we were friends when we were children, but we're not friends anymore. You're not welcome here; now get off my property."

"Is it because I'm not–" I stopped him with a look, and could only hope Peter didn't notice what passed between us. Now David knew that my boyfriend didn't know I was a witch. Would he keep my secret? How long would I have to worry about that coming out? Until I confessed to Peter, was my guess. I restrained a sigh.

Peter's expression hadn't changed, except there was a wariness I'd never seen on him before. A vulnerability I hadn't expected to encounter.

"Don't look at me like that. Like I betrayed you. No betrayal, I swear," I whispered to him, resting my hand on his arm.

He considered me, and finally smiled. "Okay. I believe you."

"I don't believe you," David said, his teeth clenched.

Just then my sister stepped into the puddle of porchlight, looking at each of us in turn. I flinched, but she wasn't facing me at the moment. I wasn't sure what she'd overheard, if anything, but I didn't want her around either of these guys, much less my precious secrets.

Peter took a step back. He was tense, his brow furrowed. This was _not_ a good end to our date.

David looked at my sister and me, swiveling his head like an animal. Struck dumb. Confused. I'd told him about Wren, but they'd never met. He wouldn't know what to expect.

My sister and I were identical twins, but she was waif-thin. Her huge blue eyes stood out below delicately arched brows and above a perfect rosebud mouth. She was beautiful, and I knew better than anyone she was also terrifying.

David chose that moment to leave. Wren watched him for a moment, and then looked back at Peter and me. _No, Wren_ , I thought. _Don't even think about it_.

She stepped out of the porchlight, and I called to her. "Wren, don't bother."

Wren hesitated, watching me, and stalked off the opposite direction from David. I couldn't be sure of her direction; she could always loop around and find him. But maybe he'd already reached his car.

Wishing there were two of me, I focused on Peter, meeting his eyes. I'd made my choice, and I wasn't going to show him I was worried about David now.

Later, I sat in my library. A map was spread out on the low table, next to a small doll David had given me when I was eight, and an assortment of crystals. Anxiety was a poisonous snake winding through my veins, deadening my limbs, threatening to close me down.

No matter what I tried, I couldn't find a trace of David when I scryed for him. It had only been an hour since I saw him. Sixty minutes, give or take. Where could he have gone?

Footsteps echoed in the construction zone that would soon be the third-floor landing. My sister, returned. I didn't swivel to see her there, but I felt her standing in the doorway, watching me.

"How did David know where I live, Wren?"

Silence.

"It had to be you. You're the only one who could have found his number on my phone and called him here. Is that what you did?"

She shrugged.

I surged to my feet and closed the distance between us, yanking her toward me by the neck of her shirt, feeling the seam tear, just as I wanted to tear her apart.

Wren laughed, and I fought the urge to slap the smile off her wicked face. If she had done something to David, she'd never own up to it.

"Sage, I just wanted to meet your friends. Why should you get _both_ of the handsome men?"

"It isn't like that, Wren. David is–"

"I know who David is," Wren snarled. "You think I never noticed him when we were children? You two were always together. I saw you day after day, laughing and talking and running. Why couldn't he be my friend, too?"

I went cold. She'd always known about David? My thoughts skipped around like a broken record, going over and over that final year, when we were fourteen, and David abandoned me.

"You met him before, Wren? At Cape Foulweather?"

"He wanted to see a piece of magic, but he didn't like what I showed him." Wren mocked in a singsong parody of the aunts. "You shouldn't have told our secrets, Sage. And here you're supposed to be the _responsible_ one. You need to learn self control."

"What did you do?"

"Oh, Sage. Don't worry. David is just fine. It was a fun night, wasn't it?"

"What did you do?" I repeated.

She didn't meet my eyes, she just walked out.

I refocused my energy on the doll that had been a gift from my childhood friend, and once I had a grip on the energy signature I was looking for, I hurried outside, and began tracking David like I should have done right after Peter left. I'd just figured I could scry for him, know he was okay, and go to bed.

I followed the remaining trace along the sidewalk, around the corner, and up the street. Right after a wide driveway, I lost it. I retreated a few paces and tried again, coming up empty. A third attempt was no different. Had David parked here, and driven away right after he left my sight? If he was still driving, the fast-moving vehicle could be the problem with my attempts to scry for him. That _could_ explain it, but my gut nagged with an unsettled feeling.

I tried scrying for him again an hour later, my best crystal and even the magic mirror that I had to dust when I pulled it out of a box showed me nothing. Baffled, I went to sleep, determined to try again in the morning.

But it was no use. I kept trying for days, but I couldn't find even the faintest trace of David.

# Chapter Twenty

When the orders came for our first solo assignment the next Saturday, it couldn't have come at a worse time. The strenuous search for David over the last week had left me exhausted. The last two mornings I'd woken and cried, realizing again that he was probably gone. Something had happened to him, and I'd never see him again. Sure, we had a falling out, and I'd told him that final night that we weren't friends, but the idea that he was no longer a part of my world just didn't make sense.

I had avoided Wren all week, and she'd made herself scarce. Melody, with her usual kindness, had brought my meals up to the library, where I was holed up reading every advanced spell for learning secrets that I'd collected over the years. I didn't know what to do to stop Wren, but she wouldn't take another person from me. Not ever.

With all I'd been facing, my service as a Hand was the furthest thing from my mind. But when I heard the Lady's orders, the first thing I felt was excitement. The rush of adrenaline at the thought of a mission shamed me. How could I enjoy it, be thrilled by it, if the loss of innocents was the cost?

There was little indication we'd be killing anyone this time around; the Lady said we were needed to help transport something precious to her.

Unfortunately, I'd have to cancel my date with Peter with very little notice, and he was really excited about whatever he had planned. I didn't want to let him down. And apparently the latest cruelty of initiation was mundane travel. We had to leave to catch a flight immediately.

"A flight?" Wren paled instantly. Stuck in a plane with a bunch of strangers?

"Get a grip and figure it out, Wren. You can't exactly go ballistic in the middle of the aircraft."

"I know." She glared, but at least she was less focused on her fears.

Peter's phone rang long enough I was sure I'd have to leave a message. I didn't want to do that. Since I had to cancel, the least I could do was speak with him and not his voicemail.

"Hey, gorgeous," he said as he came on the line. "You just about ready?"

"I'm so sorry, Peter. I have to go out of town. My plane leaves in two hours."

"Hmm," he said. I couldn't get enough of the timbre of his voice, and all the sudden I craved him. His sweet smile, his laugh, and his soft touch. "How about I drop you off at the airport?"

"That's really sweet. But we already called a taxi. Can I postpone for two days? I think I'll be back by then."

His sigh let me know he was disappointed, but all he said was, "Just give me a call when you get a chance. At least we can talk on the phone."

Montana was a long way off, too far to fly by psychokinesis without completely wearing ourselves out. And for some reason we hadn't been directed to the Lady's network of portals, but to a flight already booked for us. Standing in line at the airport, I felt hyperaware, trying to take account of anything that might go wrong. Wren just floated along, hardly interested in the world around her, but more skittish than I was comfortable with. After the third person jostled her and I flashed back to the confrontation in that restaurant as teens, I pulled a worn paperback from my backpack.

"What's that?" Wren reached for it.

I handed it over, thankfully. "A mystery. A good one."

"Ooh. Perfect." Wren shot me a lightning quick smile, and turned to the first page without delay. Later, she slept on the flight, saving me the hassle of distracting her. I had more books, as well as a handheld video game, a puzzle book, cards, and a couple of snacks. That book had been my best bet, and her nap was a relief.

Wren talked my ear off about the mystery while I grabbed our bags and walked out to find a taxi, with her a half step behind. I wasn't ready to talk to her; I didn't know what to believe about that last night with David, and it cast a shadow over every exchange with my sister. But we had a job to do, and I couldn't afford to mistrust her while we worked. Her fascination with the mystery was a relief, because I hardly needed to say a word. The driver dropped us off at the hotel ten minutes later, with Wren still going on.

Despite the fact that she hadn't finished the book, when the registration desk handed over a letter for us, she was ready for adventure of the hands-on sort. I was eager to find out what this first solo mission was all about, too. We finished checking in, threw our bags at the foot of our double beds, and I opened the envelope.

"Wren and Sage," I read. "We're at the Freemont Hotel. There is a child with us who needs a ride to the Lady. She's eagerly awaiting his arrival. Briggs."

"Eagerly means move fast," Wren noted. "Let's go."

"Do you know where the closest portal is? Where do we take him once we have him? And why the hell did the Lady ask us to transport a kid? I don't know anything about kids, and you–"

Wren glared. "I think I can handle myself around one kid. You always treat me like such an idiot, such a...loose cannon." She grabbed her backpack and put it on, tightening the straps.

"Let's get going, then." I was certainly not going to apologize for questioning her self-control. Wren simply did not care about anyone else until it was convenient for her.

For my part, several questions swirled through my mind as I strapped on my own backpack. The chief question: Why were we needed for something as simple as a transport? If Briggs and Godwin had the child, why couldn't they take him to the Lady themselves? They'd obviously had him for close to a day, because they'd booked our flight last night. The mission just seemed too innocent after what I'd witnessed a few months ago. Was I just jaded, or was there a distinct odor to this situation?

I also couldn't fathom why the Lady had sent us. It wasn't as though I was even slightly maternal, and my sister? Forget about it.

Unfortunately for me, it turned out I was wrong.

The Freemont was an old hotel on the outskirts of Great Falls. When the taxi pulled up, I briefly surveyed the building, and then sat back, retreating within myself to search for Godwin. I didn't find him.

"This is the Freemont Hotel?" I wrapped my knuckles on the front seat to get the driver's attention.

"The only Freemont Hotel in town," he answered, not bothering to mask his irritation.

I frowned, and Wren tugged on my sleeve.

"We getting out?"

"Yeah, are you getting out?" the driver asked.

"Just a second." I met his eyes in the rearview mirror with my most severe you-don't-want-to-tangle-with-me glare. Then I closed my eyes again and reached out for Briggs. My eyes shot open when I found him easily on the third floor at the front of the building. I narrowed my gaze on the spot, and thought I saw the curtains jerk closed. What the hell was going on?

"Let's go," I told Wren quietly. "Quick." I waited to continue until we'd retrieved our packs and strapped them on once again, and paid the driver, who rushed off after his next fare. I guess it was hard to make ends meet in Great Falls.

"I don't know what's going on," I finally continued, "but it's only Briggs."

Wren shrugged and stepped up her pace.

I nodded toward the door at the closest end of the building. "There."

I reached for the door and the lock snapped open just before my fingers gripped the handle. Small magic.

The stairs were right inside. We jogged up to the third floor. Something didn't feel right, and I held out a hand to Wren as she topped the stairs behind me. She waited, impatience simmering.

Maybe it was just the TV I heard through the door. We couldn't stand out here forever. I waved Wren on, and surged forward to the door. If Briggs was okay in there, he knew we were coming and it would be open. Lucky for me my thinking proved correct, because as we rushed into the room, I heard a shout behind me. I turned in time to see another door crash open down the hall. I slammed our door shut as soon as Wren was through. My sister hissed in the direction of our oncoming visitors, and the building shook. Another shout echoed from the hallway, but I couldn't see what was going on because I'd slammed the door.

I grabbed Wren, pulling her away from Briggs, who was reaching for her on the other side. Roughly, I turned her to face me. I growled, "Quit it. Now."

Lucky for her, she listened. I was in no mood at the moment. The kid I saw across the room couldn't be older than three, and the scene we'd just walked through told me this was much less cut and dry than we'd been led to believe. So what was the real story?

"No time for hellos?" I asked Briggs, my head cocked to the side.

"Smart girl. I believe this is your exit." He tossed me a child-sized coat with fur around the hood, and pointed to the large window that swung outward like French doors. "Don't forget the kid. And make sure you're not followed."

"Who's the kid?" I asked.

"No time for chatter, Sage. The kid is family; his name is Micah. And it's time you took him to the Lady."

"That should be simple enough," Wren said as she approached the kid. He backed against the wall and whimpered.

I wasn't sure I wanted to know what he'd been through. He didn't look hurt, just scared by two new people in the room. And we were supposed to fly out of here with him? "Hi, Micah. Have you ever been on an airplane?"

Micah wouldn't meet my eyes. Briggs was already opening the window as wide as possible. One of us would still have to hover outside before the other could fit through, but I'd worry about logistics once Micah was on board, so to speak.

I stepped toward him, and he made a frightened sound. Wren stopped me with a hand on my arm, and took the coat from me. She crouched down in front of the kid, putting herself on his level, and held out the coat, urging him into it. "Micah, you have to come with us now. Don't be scared. It's going to be fun. We're going to fly like birds."

I put on my most encouraging smile, trying to coax the boy with body language. So maybe my sister and I weren't that bad with kids after all. Micah gave a hesitant smile, "Like birds?"

"We're out of time, girls. Go." Briggs had turned to face the door. We didn't have time to ask where Godwin was, but he looked confident that he could handle his assailants on his own. Or maybe he'd just see us off and then fly to safety himself. We had our orders.

# Chapter Twenty-One

Wren scooped Micah up in her arms and placed him on one narrow hip like it was the most natural thing in the world. I stepped out the window, acting for Micah's sake like that was natural, too. Engaging my power, I pushed against the sidewalk below and hovered in mid-air.

I focused on my sister, and as soon as she was pushing to stay aloft, floating out the window next to me, I locked my power with hers. Alone, we could get where we needed to go, but together, we were steady in the air. It made flying a lot easier, and a lot less expensive in terms of energy.

I peered around from this vantage point, but I didn't think anyone had seen us. Deep shadows were all I could make out on the closest side of the building.

"Where are we going?" Wren asked as I guided us up to the top of the building. I still couldn't make out what was in those shadows, but I had the creepy feeling someone watched us.

"We better blow town. What if they made the hotel?"

Luckily, we'd gone over several plans for exit from Great Falls, and we hadn't bothered to leave our bags at our hotel. It was always better to be prepared. "We're not going back there," I told her. "We'll go straight to the nearest portal and get Micah to the Lady."

A shout echoed from down below. A rectangle of light expanded and contracted as someone exited and slammed the door into the alley.

For once, my twin and I were of the same mind, and we didn't say another word. We gathered speed, the child Micah between us. Our destination was more than a hundred miles away. I could only hope Micah would be okay that long. Right now, his face was pressed against my sister's shoulder, his round cheeks flushed. At least we didn't have to worry about him getting too cold. With the amount of energy Wren and I were using to keep us aloft and moving at these speeds, the air right around us was plenty warm. The best we could hope for was to get this over fast, before he freaked out on us. A "toddler fit" as we tore through the air above farmland would not be good at all.

We made quick time. Occasionally I glanced at my sister, trying to determine if Micah's weight was too much for her. She didn't look tired. Her lashes were lowered and she looked far too innocent as she watched the passing landscape, a blur of lights and streams and green-browns far below us.

The portal was on the eastern end of Glacier National Park. We'd traveled here from the Realm during twin school, just to look around and do some fun exercises with Maj and Terra.

We flew straight there. I had no patience for delay – I wanted to get this over with. My thoughts were full of the child, and the Lady's plans for him, which was probably why I wasn't cautious enough.

Six witches, their hands locked in a chain at the entrance to the portal, began to chant as soon as they saw us. Wren and I gave each other baleful looks, but didn't stick around to see what the witches had in store. Instead, we gathered our power and shot off toward the western horizon, flying faster than advisable while carrying a passenger. My heart raced. That settled it; something was definitely off about this situation.

My tired body protested as we kept flying, but my mind was alert with disaster-induced endorphins. If those weren't Chaos witches back there, I didn't know who they were. We were the only two families large enough and organized enough to string together – literally, in this case – that many witches in one spot, with so little notice. How had they known where we'd go? Did Chaos know the location of the Lady's portals?

"There?" Wren finally asked. It felt like we'd been flying for a couple of hours. I needed sleep soon, or I was going to fall like a rock straight to the ground. She pointed in the direction of a diner and motel, the strip lit up with a couple of neon signs to lure truckers and other late night travelers from the interstate.

"That works." We landed in the parking lot; no one was around at this time of night. I looked wistfully at the diner. Looked like a fifties-style place, where I was sure I'd be able to get a big greasy hamburger and a chocolate shake. Then I checked out the kid sleeping on my sister and made the responsible decision. "I'll get us a room."

The guy at the desk was about my age, and it appeared he'd noticed our arrival sans transportation. I pulled out my credit card and he gave it a swipe. "Two rooms?"

"Do you have one with two beds, on the second floor near the end?"

He almost rolled his eyes, but reined it in at the last moment. It obviously hurt him not to ask about the specificity of my request. Must be a boring job. "Sure, I can do that."

I pointed out the room to Wren, who still carried Micah nestled against one shoulder. I peeked at his sleeping face, and put a finger against my lip when I looked at Wren again. "I'll get sandwiches and meet you in the room."

Her eyes widened at the mention of food. I turned to the diner, just in time to see someone inside turning the open sign into a closed sign. I hustled up. "Could you serve one more?"

He was middle-aged, his hair sparse and his belly stretching his grease-stained apron. His eyes shot open from the dazed look workers often wore when still at their jobs at one a.m. He looked around the empty parking lot as if wondering where I'd come from. He could wonder on all night. I just wanted some food.

I smiled sweetly. "I haven't eaten all night. Any chance you have something quick you could fix up for me?"

He nodded, and if it was begrudging, I couldn't blame him. He held open the door and gave me a better once over as I squeezed through next to him. "I just put up some soup for tomorrow, and there's still bread. You'll have to take it to go."

"Not a problem. Thanks for helping me."

"I think I'll help myself." He turned the lock with a firm snap, and stepped toward me. What the hell?

I frowned, and he had the audacity to laugh at me. "You'll be safer getting me some food and then getting the hell out of my way," I told him.

"And miss such a sweet opportunity?" The way his hand twitched just before he surged for me made me flash to the wild west. But this wasn't a duel, this was a sick man attempting – what, rape?

He was about to get a lesson he'd never forget about underestimating a woman. Even if I'd just been armed with my teeth and nails, I'd have fought the bastard. But I could do better than that.

I dodged his first grab, sliding around him to stand next to the door. I made a show of waving my hands in the air as the lock clicked free.

"What?" he squeaked out.

I smiled, actually having a little fun with this. A small part of me piped up, _fun with his fear?_ I didn't care to listen to that part of me at the moment.

I lifted him into the air, his weight slight for my psychokinetic strength. He tried to squirm, but it didn't do any good. He had no leverage. I had all the leverage.

"You must have supplies in the back."

"Supplies?"

"Yes, I'll need to bind you properly so you can't follow me." I had the benefit of anonymity in this place. Only so many small women with strange powers were likely to be in town tonight, but they'd have no luck tracking me. I wouldn't leave fingerprints, and I had used a fake name at the front desk of the motel. Still, the Lady would not be pleased if she ever found out about this. Maybe if I gave him a good scare he'd be scant on the details tomorrow, for fear of another visit.

"You are getting lucky tonight." My choice of words was deliberate, and I stressed every one. "Part of me says I should kill you for what you just tried. I could do so without leaving a sign. It would be the strangest thing your state's forensics experts have ever seen, I guarantee it." I said the last part with a feral grin, letting him see the tracker, the killer I'd been trained to be. A stain spread on his apron and khakis, and he moaned in embarrassment and fear.

Suddenly not so fun. I stalked to the back and saw some quick-tie bands on one shelf of the prep area. Not perfect, but they'd do for the night. As I focused, they floated and I worked them into a chain in midair. No fingerprints. It took concentration – like the feather on a rock trick – but I'd always loved proving I could do this sort of thing.

It said something for his panic level that he only watched as I trussed him up in midair. His eyes stretched in fear when I turned him this way and that to check my job.

"Too tight?" I asked.

He didn't dare a single word, even kept his breathing shallow so as not to offend me. Ah, the thrill of power. I rarely allowed myself to enjoy it. This was the sort of thing I watched out for with Wren. But this guy deserved what he got. I was saving some weaker woman terrible trouble. That was a good enough excuse for me to unleash my dark side. To a point.

I wouldn't actually hurt him; that was far too risky. But I needed some sleep and couldn't have him running around raising an alarm. "What time do you open?"

"Six." The word came out strangled, like he'd been swallowing against fear.

"Good. Plenty of time for me to get far, far away from here."

I put him in the stockroom, grabbed the soup he'd mentioned, plus a couple of muffins and some bananas from the counter. I left a twenty next to the cash register, and departed. Back in the motel room, I set the clock for five thirty, and ate some of the food I'd taken. Wren was curled around a sleeping Micah when I came in. She took me up on a banana, and went back to sleep. I sprawled on top of the other bed. I couldn't really get settled; at best I'd get a nap.

In fact, I mostly stared at Micah and wondered what the hell was going on. Who was this kid? I had no idea whether he'd talked to Wren while they got settled. He'd been dead silent around me.

I finally fell into a fitful sleep, only to wake to the five-thirty alarm far too soon. My muscles were stiff and my head pounded. But we had work to do.

I stroked Wren's arm until she woke up and stared at me through narrow slits. She pulled Micah more firmly against her.

"Sorry, Wren. We've slept as much as we can. I sorta had a run in with a guy at the diner last night. When they open, they're going to find the night shift in the supply closet and then there will be cops."

That got her moving. Micah stirred and cried in his sleep. My sister put her lips to the tiny boy's brow, and murmured. "You're okay. Sleep, baby."

And he did. My jaw dropped. The kid went back to sleep after Wren comforted him. The look she gave him was besotted, and now I wondered what the hell had happened to my sister.

Wren grabbed a muffin and sat on the foot of the bed watching the kid sleep while she ate.

I grabbed another muffin and sat on my bed, watching my sister. "What do you think the Lady wants with the kid?"

"I don't know, but he's going to be scared if I just hand him over."

"Not really your decision. If the Lady says hand him over, that's what we have to do."

Wren pointedly ignored me. She touched Micah gently. "Time to get up, Micah. We have to go."

I pulled back the curtains, but the parking lot was still. I checked the clock. Ten minutes until opening.

"Go potty, and then have a muffin, sweetie."

Did my sociopathic sister just call the kid sweetie? And I'd never seen a smile like the one that lit her face when the boy peered at her, half asleep and so trusting. He looked at me for a moment, uncertain, and I forced a smile. "Good morning, Micah."

"Where's my mama?" he asked, his voice wobbling as he choked back tears.

We had no time for a fit, so I said the most soothing thing I could think of. "We're going to her, little one. You'll see her tonight. Go ahead and eat so we can leave." I turned away, the lie eating up my insides like a corrosive acid. What was this kid's story? Did he have a mom to go back to?

I called Godwin, but had to leave him a voicemail. Where was he?

I chomped at the bit as the kid ate his muffin bite by slow, slow bite. I didn't try to rush him. He wasn't crying, and I didn't want him to start.

Suddenly I heard gravel crunch as a car pulled into the parking lot. I peeked out the window, and saw a gray-haired woman approaching the diner, keys jingling in her hand.

"Showtime, sister. They're about to find last night's dirty work."

"What did you do?" Wren asked me, her back to Micah and her voice hushed so he couldn't hear us.

I followed her lead and whispered, "The idiot locked me in with him, like he was going to try something. I taught him a lesson. He spent the night tied in the supply closet. I could have done worse."

"You should have done worse. Should have carried him out over the fields and dropped him. Or buried him deep underground." That was Wren. She'd always have a plan for how to kill you off, if she decided it was warranted. So it was lucky for him that I had gone for food, and not my sister.

"I made him pee himself." I knew the sirens were only minutes away...maybe seconds. Had she placed the call yet? No way to know.

Wren giggled, the sound like glass shards driving deep, ruthless. "That's more like it."

"Grab Micah, Wren. It's time to go." I had a bad feeling. It was as though the morning held its breath; things were just too still for my liking.

The waitress, or owner, or whoever she was must have found the trussed up asshole by now. Of course, she wouldn't expect his assailant to be hiding out in a room a measly fifty yards from the diner. What had I been thinking?

I glanced at Wren and the kid. Time to go.

"Where are we going?" Thankfully, Wren deferred to my strategy.

"Right now we're just getting out of here. I'll think up the rest on the fly."

She nodded, and scooped Micah up so his face was nestled in the crook of her neck.

We exited like normal folk into a quiet parking lot, and walked around to the back of the hotel, where we lifted off, grateful for the cover of early morning darkness.

# Chapter Twenty-Two

I searched my sister's face when we were away from the scene of my latest crime. I registered her smile with surprise. She was saying something to Micah. He smiled back at her, his early shyness giving way to a gregarious kid who liked to laugh.

I sighed. So Wren seemed to be growing attached to a little boy we were supposed to hand over to the Lady. And Chaos witches were popping out of the woodwork – or at least the woods.

I didn't know what to do with a kid. Luckily he was potty trained, because we were not set up for diaper changes. He'd been quiet so far, but last night he'd been exhausted, and I worried what would happen when we stopped moving today.

Where would we go, anyway? Wren was content to let me lead. She had her arms wrapped tightly around Micah, who was alternately giggling and letting out little shrieks of joy at the passing landscape. "Pony!"

I didn't dare think very far ahead. Questions nagged me, the kind I wasn't supposed to ask. What did the Lady want with this little boy? We were supposed to be on our way to her right now.

I grimaced. Something did not sit right, and I struggled to reconcile handing over a small child when I didn't have all the information. I'd seen what she was capable of, and it might be my job to follow orders, but I couldn't bring myself to see this little kid into the lion's den.

We didn't try another portal.

We couldn't go home, because I wouldn't have our sanctuary compromised. And we couldn't go to the Cape without risking the aunts and the portal there.

Every option I thought of sounded risky. I needed to talk to Godwin, but I hadn't been able to reach him.

Fallow fields stretched across the late-winter landscape. As if I could not help myself, I led the way as we slowly circled back in the direction of Great Falls. I didn't know where to go. For now I was just stalling until I could get ahold of someone and find out what was going on. Wren was along for the ride, focused on keeping the kid happy, and she didn't even seem to notice our direction.

As noon approached, the expanse of fields was broken by a copse of woods surrounding a small lake. I could see a few cabins in a clearing on the north side of the lake. Making a snap decision, I veered that direction. Sure enough, the first cabin we came to was unoccupied.

"You guys wait here," I told Wren as we stood at the edge of the woods. "I'll check out the other cabins. Let's see if there's anyone home on this street before we trespass, okay?"

I waited for her to nod, which she finally did, albeit reluctantly. Wren wasn't a real fan of law and order. I didn't think she'd be a real fan of a jail cell, either. I knew I wouldn't. But Wren didn't think that way. She figured if we got caught, we'd get away somehow. We were powerful Queen witches, after all.

Thankfully, it wouldn't come to that. All three cabins were currently unoccupied. The lock proved no challenge; spells came in handy for that sort of thing. We'd just broken into the cabin farthest from the road when Godwin finally called me. Micah started crying at virtually the same instant, and I plugged my other ear with one hand so I could hear.

"Where the hell are you two?"

I gave him directions rapidly.

"What? The Lady is furious. Is the boy safe? I can hear him in the background. Good. You'd better get your asses to a portal, fast."

I waited until he ran out of steam. "I've been trying to get ahold of you, every time we haven't been in the air. Where the hell have you been? And by the way, we tried the Glacier portal last night and met an army of witches. Well, we didn't actually meet them; we managed a narrow escape. But can we trust another portal? How far away?"

"They tracked you that far, that fast? How many were there? Was it Chaos?"

"That's all I can figure. There were half a dozen, blocking off the entrance. You know what that means?"

"How the hell did they know where to find the closest portal? So they knew who you were in Great Falls, and apparently knew the location of that portal–" Godwin stopped himself.

"Briggs is back with you?"

"Odd timing for that question. Are you suggesting something?"

I paled at his tone. "Nothing, sir. But it was odd to find Briggs on his own in kind of a hairy situation. Did he make it back okay?"

"Hairier than you know. And yeah, he's fine. Seriously, kid, you have to get the boy to the Lady."

Micah kept crying across the room, and Wren crooned to him. He didn't calm down. Wren gave me a haunted look, crouching next to the child on the floor.

"I need to go, Godwin." Hanging up on my mentor wasn't the best of feelings, and on top of that I just knew something was off. He'd gotten pretty defensive there about Briggs, and still hadn't bothered to tell me what was going on after he'd waited so many hours to contact me.

I stooped down with my twin where she hovered over the sobbing toddler on the floor.

"Mama, Daddy, Mattie," he wailed. "Where's my family?" The boy's gaze darted between Wren and me, where we stood close together. Another sob. "Mattie?"

My heart froze into a solid block of ice at my core. "Micah, who is Mattie?"

"My brother." Again that darting gaze, from my face to Wren's, and back again.

"Why wasn't he with you when we picked you up?" I asked, unsure whether such a young child would be able to even understand the question, much less form a coherent answer.

"Mama grabbed Mattie. I wanted chocolate, and he took me." Micah sobbed again. "Mattie has mama. Where's my mama?"

Wren glowered at the floor as she stroked the boy's blond curls, full of dark thoughts as she considered his toddler speak. I shoved my first instinct into the back of my mind, but it refused to stay there, instead taunting me with connections that seemed just out of reach.

No, that couldn't be right.

We'd been told Micah was family. Briggs had been under attack by Chaos witches who were after a member of our family.

I thought back to Godwin's cryptic message. He'd told me he needed us to take the boy to the Lady. How did Briggs and Godwin get the child? Why couldn't they take him to the Lady themselves?

My training told me to stop thinking now. Thinking along this route was unwise. I'd been taught to trust the Lady and serve. But I couldn't help thinking our training was pretty convenient if the Lady just needed henchmen to carry out orders. I couldn't ignore the fact that Wren and I were powerful henchmen. Shouldn't we take responsibility for the repercussions of using that power? That's what the Lady told the rest of the family. But twins were raised to their powers, and their unthinking service. The Queen of Peace indeed – peace as long as everyone followed orders.

I focused on the problem at hand.

They'd told me Micah was family. He hadn't been, he couldn't have been...

...kidnapped.

I gulped. _Oh, no._

# Chapter Twenty-Three

I hadn't seen any interaction between Briggs and the kid, and there had been no one else there. I was a party to the kidnapping of a toddler from his parents' home. I sank to my knees on the dingy carpet.

According to Micah, his mother had grabbed his brother. But Micah wanted chocolate. Had Briggs seriously baited a toddler into his arms with candy and then taken him from his mother? What could he possibly want with the toddler?

I checked myself. What could the Lady want with Micah? Briggs would only be carrying out orders. I felt sick to my stomach.

When I glanced at Wren I caught her staring at me, as if considering whether to speak. She kept stroking Micah's hair.

"What?" I asked her.

"Twins." Wren cleared her throat, and brushed a tear away with an impatient finger. "Micah and Mattie are twins. The Lady must have wanted them."

I saw the truth in this instantly. "Chaos twins. You know Queen witches sometimes defect to Chaos when they can't take the Lady's dominion. That means some of them are as powerful as us. And if she knew of Chaos twins who'd manifested power..."

"Bring them up Queen and she has more Hands. Raise them to the life, just like she did us."

"That's sick. What the hell do we do?"

"What do you mean it's sick? You think our lives are sick? I am my power, Sage. I live my power. It suits me. Who's to say Micah won't feel the same one day?"

"You don't live your power, the Lady uses your power. Don't delude yourself. You are not the one in control. And you'd wish that on a sweet kid? We don't remember our mom; that's the way it goes for most Hands. They figured that out long ago. The mothers can't handle it, watching their babies being turned into the Lady's army. So Hands raise Hands."

I gulped.

A surprising thought had just occurred to me. We'd been told our mother was dead, but how could I know for sure? The Lady was devious, even when it came to her most devout followers, her closest family, the Hands. If she could kidnap Micah and attempt to kidnap his brother Mattie, as we were now assuming, we had no way of knowing what action she'd sanctioned to make sure the aunts raised us. I pushed that thought into the recesses of my mind for the moment. I couldn't take the repercussions of that train of thought right now.

I examined Wren incredulously. She'd obviously been disturbed when she realized what happened to Micah. She glared back at me. "I can't believe they screwed up and didn't get the brother. They're twins, it's horrible to be forcibly separated."

"But not horrible to be forcibly separated from their parents? Can you imagine what his mother is feeling?"

Wren flushed. Empathy was not her strong suit; she always had to be reminded there were actual people on the other side of these interactions. She glanced longingly at the blond boy, and gave a small nod. "I see."

"Yeah, I see that you do." The look on her face gave me pause, but I had to make her hear me on this. "He's not yours, Wren. You've been really amazing with him. I couldn't have cared for him like you have. But he's not yours. His mother is waiting for him."

Wren's eyes froze over as she steeled her resolve, her stubborn streak taking over. "The Lady is waiting for him. We have our orders."

"I can't believe you'd condone this."

"I can't believe you'd consider going against the Lady's wishes. What, do you think she just forgives and forgets when a Hand doesn't follow orders? She'll make an example of you, like she does whenever family tests her leadership. Like she did with me after that time at the Cape. There's a reason she's been able to implement a system of control over powerful witches."

I felt my gorge rise. My sister had actually thought this through – more than I'd thought her capable of – but she'd come out on the Lady's side? Like the beaten dog who slinks up to the abuser, thinking hopefully of love, or a treat, only to be slapped around again. She talked about being her power, but she was only a slave to it, and to the Lady.

"Yes, Wren. There's a reason she's been able to implement a system of control. Because her witches let her use them. Because her Hands let her use them. Well, guess what! I don't know if I can buy in." I stopped myself, looking back at that blond head, the child still sobbing, confused and broken hearted. "We'll have to agree to disagree for now. Let's see if there's any food we can swipe, and then get some sleep."

Lucky for us, the cupboard was stocked with canned stews and soups, and the electricity worked so we could heat it up. We ate in near silence, Wren encouraging Micah with strokes and pats, and gentle words. Once again, I was glad she'd shown a knack with the kid, because I wasn't fit company for a goat, much less an impressionable and vulnerable toddler.

After our quiet lunch, Wren settled Micah to sleep in the queen bed in one room. As she covered him with a blanket, I went to pull the curtains over the sliding glass door that went out to the deck. Clouds drifted slowly over the sun, occasional pockets of brightness accentuating their shadows.

Uneasy, I went outside and took another look around. I hadn't realized we'd be on our own in the world for an unknown stretch. Mental note: when taking a mission, pack as though for a natural disaster. For example, had I known we'd be taking whatever lodging was available, I would have brought more crystals so I could properly ward the place. Except crystals were heavy. I'd have to ask Godwin what he did for traveling wards.

Just thinking about Godwin pulled me back to my dilemma. For some reason, kidnapping twins to raise them as Hands struck me as even more vicious than killing that Chaos witch a while back. I closed my eyes against the vision of his death that assailed me whenever I let my thoughts venture too close to him. Those dark eyes, locked on mine. The brutal snap of his neck and his eyes glossing over after the deathblow. I shuddered.

I went back inside, locking the door behind me just as Wren came out of the bedroom. "Micah is asleep. I'm going to shower before I go to bed."

I nodded and waved her onward. The sooner we all got some rest, the sooner we could start to figure out what the hell we were supposed to do.

To my delight I found that this cabin apparently belonged to a fashionista of some sort. I took in my surroundings and seriously doubted that notion. Still, the woman liked fashion magazines, even if she didn't pay attention to them, and I was grateful. I really needed to unwind a bit. I took off my shoes and curled up on the sofa, arranging the pillows just so...

...I woke to a scream. I jumped up and ran into the bedroom. Wren stood over the queen bed holding the blanket that had been covering Micah. The child was nowhere to be seen. My mind was slow to register this development. I peered around the room, looking for his small shape, his blond curls.

Wren sucked in a breath, and I realized she'd been holding her breath since I joined her. She didn't scream again, but she choked out whining gasps as she rushed around the room, checking the closet, under the bed. She stuck her head in the bathroom and dove into the hallway. Finally she composed herself enough to screech, "Micah?"

I checked the glass door and found it open behind the curtain. Micah was gone.

I grabbed Wren's arm to tell her so, pointing at the open door. My phone rang. Once, twice, three times. Insistent. I left Wren in the doorway and flipped it out of my pocket and into my hand. This better be good, not just Godwin telling me what I already knew he'd say.

"Miss Brighton. You will have noticed I've taken my son back." He had a thick English accent, but I suspected he was much closer than the accent would suggest. "Do not waste your time searching for him. He is already on his way home to his mother."

I sighed. "Good." Maybe I said it with too much feeling. Either way, there was a distinct pause before the deep voice on the other end of the line continued.

"I appreciate your understanding. But I could have just reclaimed my boy and left you wondering. So why, you might ask, am I calling?" He didn't sound pissed, which worried me more than anything. I started looking around for hints they'd left some sort of explosive behind when they grabbed Micah.

"True," I muttered as I stuck my head under the bed to check for a bomb.

After a silent beat, like he'd muted the phone to confer with someone, he continued, "The truth is, it wasn't my idea. My patron requests an audience. The Prince of Chaos wants to meet you."

# Chapter Twenty-Four

I gripped the phone tighter. Chaos wanted an audience with me? Wren still huddled in the open door. This was not going to go over well. "I don't know if that's the best idea."

"Your sister is a loose cannon. If you agree with me, we've left something for you in the drawer of the nightstand. Use it, and we will come for you. Chaos is waiting."

I clutched the phone against my chest for a moment, watching my sister. How could it only take a phone call to sever something I'd known all my life? My unwavering loyalty to my flawed twin, and to my flawed family.

When I opened the drawer to reveal the dart gun, I wasn't exactly surprised. It was as if this had all been set in motion long ago. A small voice in the back of my mind asked me if I was sure. Could I really take this step? "It won't..."

"It's a sedative. It won't harm her," came the answer to my unspoken question.

Numbly, I picked up the dart gun and aimed it at my sister. She didn't even see it coming.

With a well-aimed shot, I felled Wren where she crouched, and she sprawled across the threshold. After the year we'd had, it was a satisfying sight.

I checked the trees for any sign of Chaos witches coming for me. I had made my choice, given the opportunity, and I couldn't quite believe the choice I'd made. Giving Chaos an audience, tranquilizing my sister to achieve it – these were the acts of a deserter.

I squeezed my eyes shut, but the room still spun. The Lady would kill me for this.

So, I resolved, she must never find out. I hauled my sister up with my arms around her chest and heaved her still form onto the bed, where I covered her with a blanket. I didn't know what I'd tell her if she woke up before I returned.

Footsteps made me spin on my heel. I faced three Chaos witches, one of them with a face I'd never thought to see again outside my own guilty revisiting of my shady history.

"No!" I shouted at him. "He wasn't a twin! Are you kidding me? Who are you?"

"He was a twin. My brother. Chaos rescued us from the Queen of Peace and her plotting when we were children. We lived our lives our way for almost forty years. Then your savage Hands kicked down his door and slaughtered him." He surged toward me.

The bigger witch beside him reached out in a flash and held him back. "Logan. This isn't why we're here."

"No, it's just how we're here. I want the bitches to pay."

I recognized the big guy's accent from the phone. This was Micah's father. "Talk to Chaos. He says to bring them, and we bring them."

"Wren is out. I did it." I had to force myself not to babble. Too many revelations were swirling in the air, and I couldn't make sense of all the new information.

"We can't just leave her here. Chaos wants to talk to you about reasonable solutions, and we can't have your sis going off half-cocked."

"Promise me she won't be hurt." I focused on the big guy. I trusted his reasonable manner more than Logan, who had a personal vendetta against us for obvious and credible reasons. I would not think about his story. Not now. I had to focus on one thorny situation at a time.

"I promise no one will hurt her without the word of the Prince. And he's not speaking on it until after he meets you. Clock is ticking. Let's go." He hefted Wren over his shoulder, and went out through the open door. I followed him as fast as I could hustle without appearing to run. I didn't want to be alone with the openly hostile twin of the man Briggs and Godwin had slain in my presence a few months ago.

"I'm sorry they took your son. I was trying to get Wren to let me return him."

"You two were under orders. It's hard to deny our immortals their wishes. Very hard. Not to mention your loyalty to your twin."

He clapped me on the shoulder with the hand that wasn't supporting my sister's still form. "I'm glad it happened this way. Now you have no knowledge to share with the Lady about my sons. You have no idea who took Micah or where they took him. And you won't. The two of you, and your ridiculously arrogant family, have seen the last of my sons."

When he put it that way, I was glad, too.

He surprised me by flying, with the witch whose face haunted my memory joining him. The third witch had waited silently all this time, but now he gestured at me with a blindfold. At first I thought he must be joking, but his stony expression was serious. I would have to fly blindfolded, and trust a witch I'd never met not to let me come to harm on the trip. I'd have to engage my other senses to the fullest to stay aloft. At least I was conscious. We paired up, but the effect was nothing like what I was used to with my twin.

I pushed my exhaustion to the background, far from thrilled to take to the air once again with so little chance to recharge, and blind to top it off. I was not going to be at my best when I met Chaos.

With too much time to think and no interaction to distract me, my thoughts spun circles around the things I'd learned today. The Lady kidnapped twins. She'd sent Briggs and Godwin to take those boys from a happy home. I understood her intent, but couldn't believe the other Hands would go along with it. She'd planned to steal Micah and Mattie to compliment our girls, Iris and Mabel. She intended them to be a brother-set of Hands. Of course she did. The Kalamars had put such a grouping out of reach years ago, but the next generation had that potential, as long as she tore two children out of the loving presence of their parents and had Hands raise them to serve the Queen of Peace.

What caused me the most heartache was the idea of Godwin taking those orders and stealing those boys. I had thought he was a good man, but when it came to serving her, he had no morals.

Despite the terror we were known for, these Chaos witches had been fair. They could have killed Wren – by our rules they would have been amiss not to. Was it just to secure my loyalty? Or _our_ loyalty?

A new bud of hope bloomed inside me at the thought that I'd be welcomed by Chaos, that he could somehow tell me what I should do, despite the fact I was a Hand who'd been involved in kidnapping a child from his family. I didn't deserve his help, but that didn't keep me from wishing he'd offer me a way out.

When we finally landed several hours later, I sighed at the pleasure of firm ground beneath my feet, and dropped my guard for the first time since meeting the Chaos witches.

An animal whickered in the background, and I shoved the blindfold up, consequences be damned. "Chaos has horses?" I cringed at the delight that had colored my tone. _Can I have a pony?_ Ugh.

Chaos did indeed have horses. I saw two barns between me and the mountains rising up in the distance, a sight I was sure would be stunning in the daylight, but at this moment felt more like a huge figure looming over us in the darkness. I kept looking up to see what was blocking the starlight.

"Come along, Sage." Micah's father led the way toward a sprawling modern house, still carrying Wren. I looked around. This was the only house in sight, in the middle of what was apparently a working ranch. The structure itself was huge, and I wondered how much of the family lived with Chaos. Solar panels were clustered together on the south-facing part of the roof. Conscientious Chaos?

We went in through the mudroom, and took off our shoes along the way, which made me feel oddly vulnerable. They didn't actually matter that much, but it gave me the feeling I wasn't going anywhere.

"I can't believe Chaos lives on a ranch," I told Micah's father.

"He's here most of the time, but he also has an apartment in New York."

"Chaos is a New Yorker? Now that fits my image of him." I'd known Chaos didn't eschew modernity as the Lady did. He wasn't afraid of city streets and loud machines. That's part of what made the Lady so hostile toward him; he'd clung to none of the old ways. Then again, maybe he had clung to some of them. "I need to use a restroom."

"Tamara will take you. I hope you understand you're not to be left unsupervised while you're here." He waved to a woman who'd been standing back from our group. She had a short dark bob and a cute smile. I liked her instantly.

I dared to put a hand on his arm. "What are you going to do with Wren?"

"She's going to get plenty of rest while you talk to Chaos. I already gave you my word we won't hurt her. But if Chaos wills it..."

I nodded, and watched him ascend the stairs with my unconscious sister.

As we walked, I asked a few targeted questions. "How are you treated here?"

Tamara looked at me in surprise. "I'm treated well. But I'm nice." She smiled, and I believed her.

"Did you go to school?"

She bristled at that one, but apparently she had an inkling of why I was asking, because she gave me an answer despite her discomfort. "Yes, I finished high school and then did the first year of nursing school before I had my son. Chaos gave me a place here, so we've stayed the last three years."

"And he lives here? With all of you?"

"Why do you say it that way? He has the same needs of food, shelter, warmth, companionship. Why shouldn't he live with his people?"

"It isn't the Lady's way."

She shrugged. I didn't expect her to understand. She waited outside the bathroom for me, and led me away without another word.

We trudged down a long hallway and into a library. Thousands of books filled the ceiling-high shelves that lined the interior walls. The exterior wall was glass, one huge window that let the sunlight stream in unfettered. Couches and tables formed a functional, if somewhat sparse, reading space. A huge desk with modern lines and legs like small tree trunks took up an entire corner.

Chaos sat behind the desk. His hair was dark and starting to curl at the nape of his neck. I wondered if he always wore it that length or just needed a trim. He was staring out the glass wall. When he turned to face us I sucked in a breath. His looks were beyond attractive. More like stop-you-in-your-tracks gorgeous, with a square jaw and intense hazel eyes.

He came forward, his warm smile making all of my girlish fantasies since the age of fourteen pale in comparison. His vitality filled the room. Confidence was no question here. That smile said it all. Not calculating like the Lady's. Not quite.

His clothing made a mockery of his stunning good looks. Jeans and a simple white shirt with a leather vest. I guessed he'd been riding, because he still smelled of horse sweat. Not a bad smell, especially on such a man. He'd left the cowboy hat and boots at the door.

So this was the legend. This was the Lady's challenger among immortals.

"You're Sage. One of the Foulweather girls." He knew my identity and origin. So much for our safety. "Do you understand what's happening?"

I glared, my first reaction despite my intention to be conciliatory. "I understand now. I didn't get it when Wren and I took Micah from the other Hands. We figured it out later."

"By 'the other Hands' you mean Briggs and Godwin Ashfield?" He'd seated himself on the close side of his desk, leaning there, really, as though the conversation were friendly. Instead of putting me at ease, his nearness had me on edge. I knew what the Lady was capable of, and guessed Chaos had similar powers of strength and speed. If he tried to end me right here, I wanted to be ready enough to at least put up a fight. But he didn't make any such move. He just regarded me with kind eyes and a demeanor that told me to set my anxieties aside and hear him out. In all, the Prince of Chaos was not what I expected.

I hadn't answered his question, and I wasn't about to. Despite my disgust at my superiors' involvement, I wasn't here to sell out my family. Just the Lady.

"You've been put in quite a position here, Sage." He regarded me silently for a full minute before turning to Micah's father. "She cooperated with your request?"

"Yes. The other was out when we got there, and this one came peacefully. She's in a bit of shock, I think. They're young."

Chaos returned his level gaze to my face, considering. "You're angry. Who are you angry with, Sage?"

"Myself," I answered honestly. "For letting the Lady use me this way. As a twin, I was raised to serve her. My obligation is all I've ever known."

"You were obligated to steal a child?"

"That's not how it happened. We were told to pick up a boy who was family. I thought he was a Queen witch."

"So you served the Queen of Peace without question. Why?"

"Who am I to ask questions? We're the youngest of the Hands. We do as we're told. Don't you know how we're trained?"

Did I imagine the shiver that went through him? "I know of your training."

"I'm angry with everyone," I finally said. "I feel used, and betrayed. I trusted them. Even when there were signs, I went with family loyalty." I covered my face with my hands, muffling the painful admissions. "I would never have _kidnapped_ a child."

Chaos watched me, no concern in his expression. Instead, he looked like he was trying to decide how honest I was being.

I waited, forcing myself not to fidget.

He finally looked away, staring out the window again at the velvet purples of dusk. I focused on that, too. After a prolonged pause I took a deep breath, and then another.

I knew then that the hard part – my quest to figure out how to avoid my fate – had come to an end. Chaos would help me, if I asked.

# Chapter Twenty-Five

"My Prince," I spoke, dropping to one knee.

Chaos swiveled his head toward me, eyebrows raised in question.

"I will serve you now, if you will protect my twin and me."

He cocked his head to the side. "What would your twin say to that bargain?"

I closed my eyes. "She'd say go to hell."

"She serves the Queen of Peace truly, then?"

"Yes. She's true to the Lady. Since childhood she's waited her chance to serve. And she needs me."

"Then you will serve me from the Lady's inner circle. That suits my needs. We'll consider how to work on your sister. Agreed?" The Prince of Chaos reached out a hand, and I struggled to suppress a shiver. So quick for everything to change. I gathered my confidence, refusing to think long enough to decide on a safer course of action. I gripped his hand. He was warm and solid. He felt human. He seemed human. Modern. Contained, and utterly confident. But human.

He was very different from the Lady. He looked to his inner circle as though they really were family, his trusted advisors. "So you've met Tim," he gestured to Micah's father, "and Logan." His gaze turned stern when it found the latter. "Are we going to have a problem?"

"She killed my brother. How can you just let her switch sides? I will kill her for her part in his death–"

Chaos only raised a hand, and the witch fell silent. So I understood that his power ran deeper than he portrayed outwardly. He turned to me. "What was your part in Martin's death?"

"It was the first mission the Lady sent Wren and me on. We accompanied an older pair of Hands. I didn't kill him. It made me sick."

"And your twin?"

_She enjoyed herself_ , I thought. I would never say so.

My silence spoke for me. Logan shook with rage, his face nearly purple, but I knew now that if Chaos pardoned me, Logan would swallow it.

"If you're ever the cause of death for another of my witches, I will let Logan exact justice for his brother. I will even help him kill you, if I must." He spoke quietly. He had no need of volume. "Understood?"

I nodded hastily, sweat beading on my brow. I could only hope his fervent protection of his witches would someday extend to Wren and me. I'd made my choice, and it was better than a life of killing and kidnapping witches just to extend the power of a greedy immortal who didn't have our best interests at heart. How I was to live by the bargain while still a part of the Lady's inner circle was another question, and one I'd deal with soon enough.

Chaos looked at Logan, who appeared satisfied with the bargain. If I screwed up, he'd gut me without a moment's hesitation. We both knew it. For now, it was enough for him.

Chaos asked Logan, "Has your lady arrived?"

"Yes. She's resting."

"Please wake her and tell her she's needed here. I think this is an appropriate time." He clapped his hands together loudly, and I jumped. He laughed, a sound that was far friendlier than I expected. I gave a small, uncertain smile. I was so on edge that if anyone made a sudden move I was probably going to wet myself.

Logan left the room, so that was one less hostile stranger to worry about. Was this interview over, or just beginning?

Beginning, as I learned when Chaos addressed me, amid his witches.

"Did you know your Queen of Peace made me what I am? Once my name was Daniel." The Prince of Chaos raised one hand in front of his face and examined it as though for the first time. "I was mortal, just like you. And she gave me this new life."

"I didn't know that. I kind of assumed you had the same maker."

He looked at me in astonishment. "Really? No. Not by a long shot. She is far beyond my age. Millennia beyond me. As far as I know, she made all of the immortals alive today, save one."

"One?" I asked.

"I won't speak further of that. We're talking about my immortality here. We're talking about the reason the Lady hates me. She expected good behavior as my part of the bargain. The others were all too willing to fall in line with her treatment of the witches."

"What made you so different?"

"Oh, I was fundamentally different. My family had withstood her attempts to control us for nearly two centuries before she got to me," he snarled. I took an unwitting step back. "She corrupted me before I even turned thirteen. That is another story. A long and complicated story. After she made me what I am, my descendants served her, too. Ever since, I have tried to free those witches who will join me from her designs."

"So that's why she hates you."

"The animosity is mutual, let me assure you."

I could see that. "Well, this time the Lady is going to be very unhappy with me."

"When she confronts you, just stick to the truth," Chaos told me. "You don't know where Micah is. You were drugged, and he was taken while you slept. Don't volunteer anything that leads to compromising territory. The Lady has a gift for smelling a lie. Don't give her any reason not to trust you. Be your usual, submissive self." He looked down at his hand again, where it rested on his knee, his lips curved in a small smile. "That's the way of it, right?"

His question infuriated me, but as I examined my feelings, I realized it was more of the same. I was pissed because I'd let myself be used.

Then the door creaked open, and my brain refused to accept what I saw in front of me.

"Maj?"

# Chapter Twenty-Six

"Hi, Sage. Fancy meeting you here." She walked in, stopping a few paces in front of me, like we were having some kind of standoff.

I didn't say anything, still reeling from the unexpected.

"I bet this is a total shock. I am quite the actress. Training you as a Hand while going around with Chaos behind the Lady's back? I put on a good show. You almost caught on a few times. But my son threw you off. Easy enough to think I was licking old wounds, not worrying about my life and my sister's each and every day." She shook her head.

Logan started to walk toward her, but she held up a hand and he stopped with a frown. He backed up to the wall and leaned there, watching us.

What Chaos had said earlier occurred to me. Logan's 'lady'? I looked at the two of them. It was written all over his face as he considered us. This was Maj's lover? Before I thought better of it, I said those words aloud. "Logan? Your lover is a Chaos witch?"

Her eyes iced over instantly. "Not that it's any of your business – I've told you as much before. We Hands keep our private lives private. You remember that conversation, do you not?"

I understood the threat, and the implication. If I thought to expose her, she knew my secrets just as well, and she'd never betrayed me. "Maj, I would never tell the Lady. I've sworn to serve Chaos, however I can. Apparently I'm not the first Hand to make such a decision."

"Let's pray you're not the last, either. Things are happening, Sage. Maybe we can finally stand against the bitch and keep her from stealing any more lives for her petty games of power." She came forward, and I knew I was forgiven for speaking of Logan. She was looking for the same from me. I stepped toward her and reached out. She came into my embrace thankfully, and I wondered how long she'd been lonely in her double life.

I lowered my voice as I confessed, "I hope for the same, Maj. I'm so glad you're here. I started down this road a long time ago. But now nothing will be the same. I betrayed Wren to come here. I've kept some secrets, but never something like this, something the Lady would kill us for."

Maj whispered back. "I know. I've done the same, and more. I sell Terra's secrets straight to Chaos. She doesn't suspect a thing. I'm a great liar. An actress, as I said. But my reasons are good, and I hope in the end that's enough to keep me from regretting my choices."

"How long, Maj?" I spoke the question that was bothering me.

"Forever." Her laugh was filled with despair. "Logan is Theo's father. We've been together since I was in twin school."

"That's how you know your son didn't join Chaos." I made the elusive connection to that old mystery, sorrow blooming in my chest. That meant there really was little hope Maj's son was still alive. "He would have been coming to you."

"He already had. I showed him the way just a few days before she–" Her voice was cut off by a sob that rose to her lips and quickly turned to a wail of grief belied the years that had passed. Logan came forward and pulled her close. He held her, and held my eyes over her head.

I suddenly understood that he was showing me all the animosity toward the Queen family that he could never show Maj, lest he hurt her and drive her away. It was worth it. This, I could do for her. I held his eyes and gave him a look of disdain I thought would convince him I was just another pissy Queen witch. But he would also know I was Maj's friend, and that would be enough for him, in the end.

The Chaos witches took us back to the vacant cabin when our meeting was over. Wren was still knocked out, whether from the shot I gave her or an extra dose, I didn't know. Tim laid her on the bed and covered her with the same coverlet I'd used hours ago. She didn't stir.

"Take care of yourself, Sage." Tim told me before he left. Logan tapped his foot impatiently while he waited. I knew he still detested me despite the fact I was friends with Maj and coming over to their side. I didn't know if he'd ever come around. And it hadn't been my fault, what happened with his brother, so the unfairness stung. But he had years of pent up emotion regarding Queen witches, and I determined I'd just ignore him for now. His anger would burn itself out, and he'd realize it wasn't me he was angry with any more than Maj.

"You, too. Take care of Micah."

"Don't worry about him. You know nothing. Remember that." Tim tapped Logan on the shoulder and they both took off into the night. I breathed a sigh of relief and looked at Wren. I wanted it to look like we'd both been knocked out when someone took Micah, so I rested on the bed beside her, my back against hers. Her warmth was small comfort after what I'd done. I let the tears come, crying silently until I fell asleep next to my sister.

My phone rang. I jumped, and Wren groaned. I glanced over to find her opening her eyes just a crack, a look of pure confusion all over her features. I tried to paste the same look on my own face as I reached for the phone. "Godwin?" The sleep slurring my voice added authenticity to my act.

"Where are you, Sage? We need the boy."

I upped the grogginess in my tone, buying a moment to think. "Godwin?...I was just going to call you...someone took him. I woke up a minute ago on one of the beds next to Wren, groggy as hell. I think they drugged us. Micah is gone, or at least I don't see him anywhere in the house. I still need to search outside."

"Are you at the same cabin? Damn it, Sage! We're coming to you."

What could I say? I flung the phone down after ending the call. I needed whatever time I could get to pull Wren out of the drugged stupor. It would look decidedly odd if I was no longer drugged, but Wren was completely out of it. I gritted my teeth. What had I gotten myself into, and how did I think I was going to pull it off?

Wren was waking up, but she was sure taking her time about it. That was probably for the best, because I had things to do before the other Hands arrived.

I stepped back from my sister, and took my time evaluating my senses for any clue to who had been here. I found it, before I even left my body for the astral. It was obvious, the signature of the Chaos witches who'd entered this room, in addition to Wren and me, and Micah. I knew they were Chaos, of course, and didn't know what Godwin would think when he tried.

I followed the trace to the door and out onto the porch. There I paused, finding a whisper of another trail on the back porch. They'd all taken roughly the same path off the porch.

I descended the steps and walked toward the stream. About midway there the trail ended, and since I was essentially in the middle of the field, I naturally looked up – the only route they could have taken unless they just disappeared.

Here I concentrated. What about the rest of us? Micah, Wren and me. Would Godwin be able to tell where they'd taken Micah, or that we'd gone with them? I didn't think so. Wren and I had been all over the property earlier. I'd been the only one on my own two feet when we left with the Chaos witches, and I'd also made several circuits of the property earlier, and I was now "searching." I didn't think Godwin would be able to tease all that apart and guess we'd gone anywhere. That was good, because I didn't know how to explain the trip to Chaos. I didn't want to draw attention to Chaos at all. If I didn't mention him, besides as the most likely culprit, what could Godwin really know?

I returned to my sister. She was staring through half-open eyes at the wall. I had to help her get it together or this would look really weird. I was supposed to be in as bad of condition as Wren. I hauled her to her feet and pulled her along to the kitchen, supporting most of her weight. I settled her in a chair and grabbed the afghan I'd fallen asleep with on the couch earlier to cover her. She was trembling constantly now, and still struggling to keep her eyes open.

I put on a kettle for tea and rummaged through the cupboards. Didn't I see tea earlier? I paused at the memory with the sounds of a toddler fussing in the background. I closed my eyes, letting the relief wash over me for a moment. He wouldn't be the Lady's pawn, like me. He would be free.

Wren and I sat across from each other, and after a while of breathing steam and cautiously sipping, Wren did start to come alive. "What happened?" she finally asked me.

"I'm not sure. My memory is a bit muddled," I lied. How easy it was already becoming. "What do you remember?" I cringed inwardly at the callous question, but I had to figure out what she knew so our stories would match. Wren would suspect nothing, because we were sisters, and she'd never think I would have done this to her.

"I came out of the shower, and went to check on Micah...Sage! Is he really gone?" She burst out, making me jump. "Who took him? We have to get him back!"

"Godwin and Briggs are on their way here. If anyone can make heads or tails of this situation, it's them."

I kept my gaze level when my mentor addressed me upon his arrival. Godwin wasn't his usual patient self, and I wondered what the Lady had threatened if they didn't bring Micah back. I told the same story as Wren, I remembered her yelling from the back room that she couldn't find Micah, and running back there...and that was it. Wren remembered getting out of the shower and Micah missing from the bed...and that was it. Not much to go on.

When Godwin tried tracking, he got the same muddied signals I had found. I was relieved that he couldn't tease out any additional details, and proud that I had apparently matched my mentor in skill. Likely as not, it still wouldn't be enough, in the end.

We spent a few hours trying to trace the direction the Chaos witches had taken. Godwin never suspected Wren and I had flown with them and been gone several hours. They just assumed we'd been drugged with a heavy dose of sedative and hadn't awakened for a few hours, giving the trail time to dissipate before we could call for help.

With much gnashing of teeth, Godwin and Briggs had to acknowledge there was no way to trace where Micah had been taken. They must have assumed Chaos witches took the boy back, but they didn't share that information with us.

Wren didn't say anything about knowing the boy was kidnapped, and I didn't say anything either. If I didn't ever mention Chaos, they were even less likely to smell my fear and call me out on it.

And I was afraid.

"It's the first time you've screwed up, Sage. It isn't like the Lady's going to kill you. What could you do? They knocked you guys out. Not like you lost a fight or something. You might catch a beating, because she's going to be furious."

"What was so special about that boy?" I asked, as though I thought he might answer me. I knew better, but now I had a role to play. Luckily, I'd always been inquisitive.

"He was special," Godwin sighed, taking a final look around as we stepped up onto the back porch where my first confrontation with the Chaos witches had taken place hours ago. "The Lady will tell you what you need to know, if you need to know it. I'll not anger her further by gossiping."

"I guess that's probably smart. Sorry." I went inside, and he followed me. When I heard him tell Briggs it was pointless, I shut my eyes for a moment in relief, then snapped them open again, trying not to look guilty, or like I was hiding something. I was going to have to learn fast how to play that poker face. I couldn't afford to give myself away so easily. Briggs was watching me when I looked up, and I grimaced in his direction, like I wasn't feeling well.

"Come on, you two," he called to us after a moment. "It's time to tell the Lady we lost the boy."

# Chapter Twenty-Seven

We found the Lady in her cavern, standing absently next to the lake. This place, in all her home, was empty of riches. Silent, and old beyond measure, the cold cavern and its lake that had long ago named her the Lady of the Lake, stood in the bones of the earth. Her dais and a single ornate chair stood empty behind her, and the lake stretched into the darkness.

For the first time, I thought she must be lonely here. But I shrugged that off, thinking of what Chaos had told me. Unchanging, she lived inside the earth, completely apart. She hadn't walked in the world for centuries, ever since her fears outweighed her love of the world. The world changed faster and faster, and she grew further and further behind. Yet she wielded power.

Not for the first time, I found myself wondering why she bothered. In some ways she was better off dead. Didn't she realize that? What good was all this power when she couldn't even leave the confines of her self-imposed prison? After seeing Chaos, I understood that she could have had so much more. There was nothing to stop her from living in the world, powerful beyond measure. Nothing stopped her but her own fears. That was pathetic. And it made what power she did wield vulnerable. She depended too much on others, on her Hands. If she didn't have us...

The Lady turned to face us, and I stopped myself from stepping back at the look on her face. "I don't see the boy." She looked at each of us in turn, her rage palpable. "Did we not have the boy, last I heard?" She turned that malevolent gaze on Wren and me. "Where is he? And where have you been?"

We told our story again. I stuck to the truth, as Chaos had advised, but I was still sure she'd smell the fear on me. The Lady stared out over the great underground lake as we spoke. In the distance, I thought I saw a ripple, but I forced it out of my mind. It was only my overactive imagination and a guilty conscience. When I finished my account, she held up her hand.

"Who, exactly, did you contact?"

"I reached Godwin after we were holed up in the cabin. He's the only one." I resisted the urge to look at the subject of the conversation.

"Godwin," the Lady said flatly. "The rest of you can leave. Godwin, I must speak to you."

I hesitated, but only for a split second. Then I decided even if I stayed, it wouldn't make it easier on Godwin – she'd just discipline me, too. Wren trailed me, obviously distressed at having displeased the Lady.

"Sage is nearly as good a tracker as I am," Godwin said from behind me. I paused and looked back. "Neither of us was able to find their trail."

The Lady gave him a fierce look. "Is she now? You're so easily matched? Well, what good are you to me, then?"

Godwin held up a hand, a gesture of surrender. "I am all you will me to be. I do what you ask of me. What more can I do?"

"You may leave, Sage." The Lady said, and I realized I'd been staring at their exchange.

I knew far more than I was letting on, but I was still willing to let him take the blame. It was cruel to leave him with the Lady in a snit. She could do a fair amount of damage when she'd been crossed, or imagined she'd been crossed.

But I'd made my choice, as Godwin had made his years ago.

I turned and left the room, my twin sister trailing me once again.

As I dialed Peter's number, I tried not to expect too much. He was probably angry. I'd said I would call, and then I never lifted a finger to do so. Granted, I'd been busy, first bereft at what my family was capable of, and then betraying all I'd ever known. But he couldn't know about that. So how in the world was I supposed to explain my absence?

He picked up on the second ring. "Sage?"

"Hi, Peter."

"How are you?" He didn't sound mad. "I've been hoping you would call."

"I'm sorry. I was too busy with work. I just got home about ten minutes ago."

He laughed. "Well, it's good to know I was your first call, anyway."

Except for the Lady. She'd warranted a special trip and a face-to-face meeting.

"Can I see you soon?" I asked.

"How soon? I could be there in fifteen minutes. Is that too soon?"

I giggled, the sound strange to my ears. "That's perfect. And Peter?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for understanding."

"Sage, I don't understand. But I'm willing to try. See you in a few."

I hung up the phone, and resisted the urge to look outside and see if he'd arrived yet. Of course he hadn't. When he did, I'd let him hold me. I'd bask in his warmth, his joy, soaking into me. I'd try to remember I wasn't what the Lady had made me to be. I was this woman, with Peter – the one who laughed.

Sparrows flitted among the roses outside the large front window of the tiny cottage. They rose up in a wave as I approached, only to cluster again with fine little chirps behind me as I opened the door. I'd had trouble getting away, and I was late for my meeting. The realtor was waiting for me, and the tour commenced the instant I arrived.

"As you can see, there's a loft with a double murphy bed up there, and two bedrooms with their own baths." The realtor waved an arm around the interior of the cozy beach cottage. "Two blocks from the beach, and you saw the yard. To die for!"

I was getting annoyed with the realtor, but I did love the little house. The kitchen was tiny, but I wasn't a cook. The yard and the beach were the primary selling points for me. Not to mention the proximity to the Lady's portals, through the one at the Cape. The cottage was only a few miles from my childhood home. Close enough I should probably reconsider. But with the portal there, I always had an excuse for arriving suddenly. I decided to go with my gut. I needed a place of my own, a place no Queen or Chaos witch knew about, with a desperation that bordered on panic. "I'd like to make an offer. Full price. Does the furniture stay?"

"If you want it to, I can probably make it happen. Might cost you a few thousand more." The realtor gave me an appraising look, no doubt wondering if she was wasting her time. I didn't look old enough to afford a house like this on my own. I wasn't worried. She'd be happy enough when her commission check arrived.

I turned back to the windows, catching another glimpse of the cloud-studded sky. I could hear the small birds calling from the rosebushes, against the backdrop of the eternal rhythm of the crashing sea.

"I'll take it," I told her. This was to be my safe haven, my link to a normal existence. I pictured Peter coming in from the beach, knocking the sand off his shoes on the front porch. The domestic image surprised me. But I didn't have time to worry about my inclinations toward Peter.

I wasn't prepared to play both sides. I had no idea how I was going to pull this off. Still, I felt more at peace than I could ever remember feeling. I'd made my stand. I wasn't going to let the Lady use me for her own ill devices. Not any longer, at least not without exacting consequences on her side of the ledger.

Whatever Chaos wanted of me, whatever helped weaken the immortal who had ruled my life, my sister's life – the lives of everyone I held dear – I would do it. I feared the Lady, but I feared my own inaction more. And when I needed shelter from the storm, a tiny cottage right down the beach would do nicely.

# About the Author

J.R. Pearse Nelson is a fantasy and romance writer from Oregon, USA. She lives with her husband and two daughters among the plentiful trees and clouds of the beautiful Willamette Valley. J.R. is always searching for the magic in our world. She weaves tales rooted in mythology, bringing legend to life in modern-day and fantasy settings. J.R. is the author of the _Water Rites_ fantasy series, the _Foulweather Twins_ fantasy series, and the _Of the Blood_ fantasy romance series.

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