5
Casting Stones
‘This,’ said Paige, ‘is complete and utter bullshit. What does she even mean, seek the truth of yourself? It’s rubbish!’
‘One man’s trash is another man’s treasure,’ said Laine softly.
‘And I’m not Rare, either,’ Paige went on, choosing to ignore this. ‘I’m not! Never mind her and that stupid prophecy.’ She crossed her arms and stared out at the Rookery. Harper opened his mouth to speak, but changed his mind and kept silent.
Solace knew how he felt. They had emerged from the chamber and found their way back to the open temple doorway, and stood once more at the precipice of this strange new world. They were still shaken from their conversation with Liluye and too nervous to take the crucial step outside. None of them had the slightest idea of what to do. Beyond them, strange talk buzzed and stranger folk moved, but it was like being in a fishbowl: even when other travellers walked through the foyer or down the steps, everything outside their group seemed distorted, kept at arm’s length by some invisible wall not of their own making.
Jess ran a hand through her hair, tugging some strands free of her braid. ‘Look, there’s obviously something we’re meant to do here.’
‘Meant?’ snapped Paige. ‘What do you mean, meant?’
‘Something we can do, then!’ Jess shot back, cheeks flushed. ‘Towards figuring out the prophecy. We’re all named in it, but apart from Solace, we don’t know who’s who or what the names are based on.’
‘I do,’ said Laine. Everyone turned to her. ‘I’m the Watcher,’ she said. ‘Psychic. Secrets all unsaid. It goes by our Tricks.’
Paige blanched white, but it was Electra who spoke, glaring at Laine. ‘Why the hell didn’t you tell us?’
‘I just did.’
‘Solace is the Daughter, though,’ said Manx, getting in ahead of anyone else. ‘That refers to who she is, not her Rarity.’
Something in Laine’s face flickered. ‘Then it’s based on our Tricks and selves. It’s a start.’
‘So, what – we’re literally meant to find ourselves?’ Evan laughed. ‘Very existential.’
‘That’ll be easy for you, at least. Just look for the nearest bar,’ Jess muttered.
Solace went to speak, but was forestalled by a sudden angry snort from Paige. ‘Yeah, existential. Because that stuff always makes sense.’
‘Actually, it does,’ said Laine, tartly. ‘Assuming you understand it.’
Paige seemed to sizzle as she stepped up to the psychic. ‘You’re calling me stupid?’
Laine held her ground, not quite smirking. ‘I don’t know. Am I?’
‘You tell me!’
‘Oh, really?’ said Laine, her voice as cool and sharp as a frost-edged blade. ‘You’re sure about that? Because there’s a few things I could tell, Paige, and not all of them would suit –’
‘Hey!’ snarled Harper, interrupting them both. Worry and anger mingled equally in his voice. ‘Back off, both of you! What the hell is your problem, anyway?’ This last to Laine. ‘Springing that Watcher stuff on us. You know what it feels like, to hear your best friend’s been keeping secrets?’
‘More than you ever have!’ Laine hissed. Solace was so taken aback by this continued display of venom that she actually jumped. Two high spots of colour had formed on the psychic’s cheeks, and her pale eyes flashed like sunstruck ice. It seemed that Harper would retaliate in kind, but a look of genuine fear crossed his face.
‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘Laine, please –’
‘Guys!’ Electra stepped between them, forcing Paige, Harper and Laine to separate. ‘Just calm down, okay? What are you even talking about?’
‘She knows.’ Laine nodded coldly at Paige, who flinched. Breathing out sharply between her teeth, Laine tossed her head and took a step back, visibly reining herself in. ‘I’m sorry. Look. Forget it. There was never going to be a good time. I need to just … I need to calm down, all right? Pretend I’m not here.’
She dropped her gaze and retreated a pace, seemingly desperate to regain some semblance of anonymity. But the damage was done, and now the three of them seemed to shine like lighthouses, unable to rest their eyes on any space for more than a heartbeat.
‘Dude,’ said Evan. He looked like he wanted to say more, but in a rare display of tact, thought better of it.
‘Seriously,’ said Manx.
Harper rested his face in his palm, either unable or unwilling to answer.
‘We get it. Change of topic.’ Jess clapped her hands. ‘Or rather, a return to the original topic, viz: what are we doing?’
‘Drink,’ said Evan, automatically and without even the slightest glimmer of shame. ‘I could use one. At a random guess, I’m not alone.’
‘Evan.’ Solace stared at him. ‘We have left the planet Earth. We are in a pocket dimension filled with winged women, zebras and wonders galore, and you want to go to the pub?’
‘Solace,’ Evan replied, eyes dancing with mock seriousness. ‘Vampire dearest. Be reasonable. When have I ever wanted to do anything else?’
‘No drinks, Evan.’ Jess crossed her arms, coming to Solace’s rescue. ‘We’ve got a prophecy to unravel, and speaking as a seer who wants to live, I’m kind of enthusiastic about that.’
‘Maybe you should do another casting, then,’ Evan snarked.
Jess looked taken aback. ‘Yes, actually. That’s a good idea.’
Evan blinked. ‘Actually, no, it’s not: that was sarcasm. Do you even remember what happened last time?’
‘That was only because of Sharpsoft, and haven’t you been telling us that he’s a double agent for our side? If you’re right, then doing a casting should be completely safe.’
Jess raised an eyebrow. Evan opened his mouth to object, but faltered magnificently. Manx made a tutting noise and threw a comradely arm around his shoulders.
‘Never mind, mate. I’m sure you’ll get over it.’
Jess glanced around the main hall. ‘I’ll need somewhere quiet, like that room we were in before. And some bones.’ At Solace’s expression, she grinned. ‘Not actual bones, necessarily. Just some random crud I can use as a focal point to delineate the cast.’ She turned to Electra. ‘Any chance, Lex?’
The blonde girl nodded and closed her eyes. A bright glow suffused her, golden as a saint’s halo. Despite their relative solitude, Solace felt curiously exposed by the process, clenching her jaw until Electra’s light had faded and Jess had taken ownership of two handfuls of oddments. These consisted of a red ribbon, a crab claw, a canary feather, a tin soldier, a torn Jack of Diamonds, a twenty-sided die, an oyster shell, a matchbook, a battery, a shard of obsidian, a gold fob-watch chain and a tiny porcelain cat statuette bearing an uncanny resemblance to Duchess. Solace felt her skin prickle as she noticed this last; but if anyone else felt the same, they kept it to themselves.
Jess chuckled at this strange amalgam. ‘Perfect! All we need now is a venue.’
‘Um,’ said Harper, forcing himself back into the conversation, ‘that might be easier said than done. We passed plenty of doors on the way up from the lobby, and God only knows how big this place actually is. But I don’t want to get lost or piss anyone off by being somewhere we shouldn’t.’
‘Agreed,’ said Jess. There was a long moment of silence, wherein everyone’s gaze drifted back to the open door. As fascinated as she was by the possibilities of the Rookery, Solace found she was just as equally intimidated. The idea of walking so boldly into such a crowd felt foolishly impossible, which in turn served to frustrate the Vampire Cynic. Just step out! It’s easy, moron – one foot after the other!
Simple though the decision seemed, her run-in with Grief had made her cautious. There was no turning back once Solace crossed the threshold. Not that she’d had that option before, but in her mind, the notion of walking confidently into such an alien world had suddenly taken on a new gravity. If she went out there, it would be like claiming her Rarity in full, and after what she’d read in Liluye’s face, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. One small step for vampire, she thought, and fought to swallow an impulse of crazy laughter.
‘Excuse me,’ asked an unfamiliar voice, ‘but are you Liluye’s human guests?’
Jolted out of her reverie, Solace spun, mouth ajar. A lean, wolfish woman was staring at their group. Dressed in battered armour made from what looked like blue leather and carrying an ornate silver rifle over her right shoulder, she had startling lilac eyes, milk-white skin and thick red hair – not like Liluye’s orange-gold or Sanguisidera’s fire-mix, but genuine paintbox carmine, floating around her face and down her arms like an aura made visible. Her lips had a purple sheen, and her voice, when she spoke, was deep and strangely accented.
‘I think so,’ Solace managed, still somewhat startled. ‘I mean, for a given value of human.’
The woman frowned. ‘You are Eleuthera, yes?’
‘Yes.’
She held out a hand. Solace took it automatically. They shook. The woman’s palm was warm and rough with a lifetime of calluses. ‘I am Sylvia, of the Rookery guards. Liluye sent me to be your guide, until your suite is ready. Her realm is labyrinthine, and it would not do for you to become lost.’
‘We were looking for a room,’ Jess said, then quailed a little under the intensity of Sylvia’s gaze. ‘Just, you know. A place to do magic.’
Sylvia blinked. ‘Small magic or large magic?’
‘Um … small?’
‘Follow me.’
With military precision, she turned on her heel and strode off down one of the left-hand corridors, moving swiftly enough that everyone hurried to catch up. Unlike the paths they’d taken earlier, the hallway soon widened to the width of a road, branching off into a honeycomb of similarly broad alternatives, many of which were populated. With each turning they passed other denizens of the Rookery – some mechanical, some animal, some human – until, just as suddenly as it had thickened, the passage narrowed, becoming a dead-end of glass-fronted doors.
‘Here,’ said Sylvia. She stopped in front of the third door to their left and turned the handle. It opened soundlessly. ‘You will not be disturbed.’
The room was square, floored with polished black wood. A long table and ten matching chairs occupied most of the space. A grandfather clock with brass hands ticked softly in the far corner. Once they’d all filed in, the lilac-eyed guard smiled, bowed and shut the door. The cessation of noise from the hallway was instant, like having a gloved hand clamp over each ear.
Solace pulled out a chair and sat down, conscious of the scrape of wood on wood. As she adjusted to the relative quiet, she became aware of the clock’s gentle ticking, and wondered what time the Rookery could possibly keep. Greenwich meridian, obviously, said the Vampire Cynic.
One by one, the others took seats on either side of the table, with Paige and Laine sitting as far apart from one another as was possible. After a moment of consideration, the seer stood up again, nudged her chair sideways and knelt on it, contemplating the contents of her cupped hands. Then she closed her eyes, exhaled deeply and settled back, a low cant of sound building in her throat. Despite knowing what to expect, Solace was still fascinated, drinking in the music of Jess’s casting in anticipation of that final, keening note. But though the seer hummed and swayed, her cupped hands hovering above the surface of the table, the end release didn’t come. Already tense at the prospect of his sister’s magic, it was Evan who noticed first that something was wrong, the change in his expression all the indication Solace needed.
‘Jess?’ she asked. ‘What’s happening?’
Slowly, the seer lowered her hands and opened her eyes. The casting music died in her throat. A look of bewilderment crossed her face.
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘The words are gone. It’s like that feeling you get when you’re about to sneeze, but no matter how much it tickles, nothing happens.’
‘Has it been like this before?’ Electra asked.
‘Yes,’ said Jess, her voice picking up both pitch and pace, ‘but not for years. I mean, there were these times, right, when someone would tell me what to look for – not ask, tell, only I didn’t understand what he meant, so I couldn’t focus clearly on the cast. Or else he’d ask me for something too broad, which is weird, you know, because you’d think that specific stuff would be harder. But the more specific I am, the more I can feel all the different things a cast can touch on, you know? So I’m throwing a broader net, but if the question is unfocused, then I can’t get a grip on anything, the words slide away and –’
‘Jess.’ Evan grabbed his sister firmly by the shoulders and gave the tiniest of shakes. ‘It’s all right. Just breathe, okay? He doesn’t matter anymore. You don’t owe anyone anything.’
He? Solace wanted to ask, but as Jess gulped and nodded, she couldn’t bring herself to speak. Seeing her friend so uncomfortable was unnerving.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Electra. ‘We can find our own way. We’ve already got one prophecy to deal with.’
‘Thanks,’ said Jess, albeit weakly. ‘I just wish there was something else we could do, you know, to get our bearings.’
‘There is,’ said Laine, startling everyone. From where she sat, head bowed, at the far end of the table, the psychic raised her gaze. ‘Nepenthe,’ she said, in answer to their expressions. ‘Tripwalking.’
‘That’s actually –’ Jess began, but found herself forestalled by a sharp snort from Paige.
‘– really, really stupid,’ the pixie girl declared. ‘Firstly, we used up the last of your stash at the warehouse. Secondly, remember how that worked out, with the screaming and terrible fires? Not cool. Thirdly, we’re in a pocket dimension, as in, a galaxy far far away, and then some. You think that stuff grows on trees?’
‘Some of the ingredients do,’ Laine said insolently. ‘But what would you know about it?’
‘Can you really find some here, do you think?’ Jess asked, snatching the pause before Paige could prolong their argument. ‘Nepenthe, that is.’
Laine’s eyes glittered. ‘Absolutely.’
‘Well, then.’ The seer abruptly emptied her hands onto the table, her summoned oddments twisting and falling, as carelessly spilt as the contents of a kicked toy box. There was a hissing sound as the porcelain cat statuette shattered into powder under the strength of its impact, but otherwise, the pieces remained whole. There was a small silence as everyone stared at her.
‘Um,’ said Jess, blushing. ‘I probably shouldn’t have done that. I mean, the cat’s kind of broken.’
‘Who cares?’ said Evan. ‘I’ll bet that stranger things have been left on stranger Rookery tables by stranger people than us. Just leave them.’
‘We’re going, then?’ said Paige, sharply. ‘Following her?’
Only Harper looked remotely apologetic. ‘What else can we do?’
‘Something sensible,’ Paige muttered, but when the others stood, she followed.
Outside the room, Sylvia was waiting for them.
‘May I help further?’ she asked, more amused than polite.
Solace didn’t speak. Like the others, she turned instead to Laine, who smoothed her hands down her skirt and stepped forward.
‘Satyrs,’ she said. ‘They have a grove here, somewhere near the Castalian spring. Can you take us to them?’
Pleasant surprise flashed across Sylvia’s features, followed quickly by concern. ‘You are less ignorant than one might have supposed. And yet, this might not be the wisest course of action. Your friends – do they understand the risks?’
‘Laine?’ asked Solace, her voice coming out a little higher than she’d intended. ‘You didn’t say anything about satyrs. Have you been here before?’
‘No,’ said the Goth girl, not looking round, but her shoulders twitched in a way that suggested secrecy.
Solace felt as though her head was floating above her neck, instead of being properly connected to her body. The day had already held so many weird revelations that one more shouldn’t have mattered, but somehow, the idea that Laine knew more than any of them about the Rookery was the most alarming of all. Clearly, Solace wasn’t alone in this perception: Paige swore violently, and when it became apparent that the psychic wasn’t about to turn and explain herself, Evan reached out and grabbed her by the elbow.
Laine whirled, shocked and angry. ‘Hey!’
‘What aren’t you telling us?’ Evan’s voice was frighteningly level. His eyes bored into hers for long seconds, the contrasting blues of their irises like the iridescent shades of a beetle’s shell. Laine’s lips parted, but that was all. Evan waited a moment longer, then dropped his hand and let her go. Laine didn’t move, but somehow, it still felt to Solace as though she’d stumbled. A blush crept up the psychic’s neck.
‘We’ll take the risk,’ said Evan. His eyes didn’t leave Laine, but his words were directed at Sylvia. ‘Take us where we need to go.’
The Rookery guard raised an eyebrow. ‘You are all agreed?’
Solace braced for Paige’s objection, but nobody spoke. She turned and looked at her friends. Beside her, Manx shifted his weight from one leg to the other. Harper stood tense, while Jess seemed unusually lost, still disoriented by the failure of her Trick. Electra rested one hand on the seer’s shoulder, golden and serene. Paige looked furious, her lips drawn in a tight line, but as though she feared the childishness of her anger, she kept her eyes fixed firmly on the middle distance.
Only when it became apparent that Sylvia really did want an answer did Solace speak. ‘We are agreed,’ she said.
The guard inclined her head. ‘Then follow me.’