Cate Tiernan: A Chalice of Wind

It was then that all the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and my blood turned cold. My breaths became faster and shallower, and I watched this play unfold with horror.

"There was a boy'' Richards voice was bitter and full of pain. "Halfway to becoming a man."

"There was an innocent young man" said Ouida, "who was emotional and easily led."

"There was the village outcast, a woman of loose morals," said Daedalus with distaste.

'And there was Melita's younger sister, Cerise" said Axelle. "She was unmarried but pregnant. No one knew who the father was."

"The baby was due in two months," said Sophie, sounding near tears.

My eyes wide, I sought out Clio's face. Silent knowledge passed between us: our vision. They were describing our vision. Holy crap.

"Through various means-bribes, threats, coercion-she rounded up these twelve witches and performed the ritual with them" Ouida said. "During the ritual, they all drank from the spring, thereby increasing all their magickal powers-beyond where Melita's had been"

"During the rite, Melita called on all the dark forces she knew," Sophie said softly. "Forces the others didn't know existed. And her magick was so strong, and the combined forces of the thirteen were so strong, that it called down the wrath of heaven"

My eyebrows must have gone up because Ouida explained, "It called down a tremendous surge of power that entered Melita and poured into the souls of the twelve with her."

"Dark power" Jules said.

"It stunned everyone," said Manon, her voice wispy and light. "It felt… like the beginning and the end of everything, of life itself."

"Which it was, in a way." Luc sounded very tired,

"No one knows why, but Cerise went into early labor" Ouida continued. "The rest of the twelve were practically glowing in the dark with power and magick and energy, but it didn't have the same effect on Cerise. She went into labor and died in childbirth."

I almost said, "But the child lived" thinking of the pale, mewling baby washed clean by the rain.

"Maybe Melita knew it would happen," Richard said. "Maybe not. But Cerise, her sister, died that night."

"The eleven others who were left were horrified and scared of what had happened," Sophie said.

"Melita was too dangerous." Axelle examined her bloodred fingernails. "It wasn't safe to have her around. So the eleven remaining witches lay in wait for her. They were going to kill her."

I couldn't believe I was hearing this, that this was a real story, real history. And I couldn't believe the terrible conclusions my mind was leading me to. I glanced at Clio, who seemed as spellbound as I was,

"But it didn't work" Daedalus put in. "Melita was too strong even for the eleven together. She escaped and disappeared. No one ever saw her again"

"Before she left, she went back to the Source and the great cypress tree, where she'd performed the rite." Ouida took a deep breath, looking at her hands, folded in her lap. "She destroyed the tree, and the Source disappeared"

"Fast-forward fifteen years," said Manon. "By then it was obvious that the rite had had unexpected, lingering effects. None of the eleven was ever ill. Their magick was strong and clear and very, very powerful."

"Cerises daughter, born that night, grew normally" Ouida said. "Oddly enough, she had the exact same birthmark that Cerise had had-a bright fleur-de-lis on her cheekbone. Somehow the magick that night had entered her as well, and her powers were unnaturally strong. Her name was Helene. In time she married and became with child. She died in childbirth, as her mother had. Her daughter Felice was marked with the fleur-de-lis"

My own birthmark felt like it was burning against my skin.

"Felice grew to adulthood, married, and died in childbirth," Daedalus said flatly. "It was like Cerises line was cursed because Cerise had died the night of the ritual"

'And it continued that way," Ouida said. "Cerises line never died out completely. Each successive generation produced one child. Your mother, Clemence, was the twelfth generation of Cerises line. You, my dears, are the thirteenth. In your line, the power is very strong. You two have the potential to be extremely powerful witches"

"Especially if we put our powers together," said Clio coolly.

Ouida frowned. "Well, I don't know about that. I guess, in theory. I haven't really heard of other identical twins being able to do that. Have you?" she asked Daedalus.

I worked hard to keep the shock off my face and to not look at Clio.

Daedalus looked thoughtful. "I can recall only two other sets of identical twins among omfamilfe," he said. "Li the first pair, a twin died in childhood, before his rite of ascension. I don't remember anything remarkable about the other set"

"You must remember," Jules pointed out, "that only the eleven that took part in Melitas dark rite became, well, super-powerful. The rest of the community practiced Bonne Magiz and were strong witches, but not supernaturally so. And of the eleven, you two are the first and only set of twins in any line"

I tried to look calm and interested. This was completely the opposite of what Petra had told us. They were lying. They wanted us to feel safe as twins. They didn't realize that we'd already figured out someone was trying to harm us.

"What happened to the other eleven lines?" I asked,

"That brings us to the next important part of our story? said Daedalus. He stood before the fireplace, hands clasped behind his back. "You see-and this is the remarkable part-in addition to having incredibly strong magickal powers after that rite, in addition to never becoming ill and having injuries heal quickly, there was another unmistakable legacy granted to those who had drunk from the Source that night,"

"They never… aged" Richards voice was characteristically bitter.

My hands started to tremble, and I clasped them together tightly. No, no, oh no…

"What do you mean?" Clio asked tightly.

Richard looked at her. "They never aged. Have you not figured this out yet, Clio? As smart as you are?" he asked mockingly;

Ouida smiled sadly. "A woman named Claire is the village outcast. Marcel is the innocent young man"

I felt cold through and through, and the knuckles on my fingers were white. " Petra… she isn't really our grandmother, is she?" I asked.

Ouida shook her head. "No, not your grandmother. She's your ancestor, though. You see, Petra was Melita and Cerises mother. That night she saw one daughter die and her other revealed as a power-mad monster. She's been helping the descendents of Cerises line ever since. Though Clio was the first child she actually raised herself?

I looked over at Luc. "Don't tell me" I said, sounding as cool and smooth as a stone. "Youre the heartless rake."

He made a gesture with his hand and looked away, looking tired and almost ill. Which I guessed was impossible-the ill part.

"Let me get this straight," said Clio. "You are the original eleven. You're saying you are immortal"

Eight heads nodded with various levels of enthusiasm.

"I mean, so far, at least," Richard said.

How could this possibly be true?

"Okay, fine" said Clio briskly. "You guys are immortal, my grandmother isn't my grandmother, I understand why my mom died. But why did you want to find me and Thais? Get us together?"

"Because you would complete the Treize," said Daedalus. "As we said earlier."

'And that's important why?" Clio asked, her eyebrows raised.

"So we can re-create the rite, of course" said Jules. "Then you can be immortal too."

Uh… okay. I found my voice. "Why do you care if we're immortal?"

"He would get something out of it," Luc said, his voice as dry as bone. "Everyone would. Doing the rite would conjure up a huge amount of power-power that could be twisted and shaped to do anything anyone wanted it to. For example, we seem to be incapable of having children. We could change that. Or we could increase even the power we already have. If we reopen the Source, we can save people we… love. Save their lives?