The Sisters of the Flame were giggly. The Dreamers appeared to be something of a special attraction.
Maeve had expected greater gravity, but certainly didn’t mind their cheer. She wondered if her own followers were this vibrant, this alive. She hoped so.
“Perfect. Stand here if you would, Our Lady… Queene Death here, Holder Stone here…”
Benjamin immediately stepped back, performing disinterest. One Diamond Dog surreptitiously signaled the other, with unclear intent. They stayed put.
With Holder on Her right and Queene Death standing on Her left, Our Lady Maeve felt quite unstoppable.
“Gaze into the stone,” one Witch whispered.
There were five clear crystals, big as car batteries, set into metal stands a dozen or so yards away. As Our Lady concentrated on the middle crystal, flames began immediately to play along its edges.
A quick glance revealed just two of them burning: Hers and the far right, Holder’s. The rest of the crystals stayed dead, including Queene Death’s. She wondered if it were broken.
“Queene Death,” one of the Sisters apologized, “You may sit if you like. The crystals are apparently not catalyzed for you. You may also lack magic.”
Holder seemed to be putting a lot of effort in, relatively, and after a moment they all could see why: The far right crystal burst into bright red flame, earning warm applause.
Our Lady felt the sudden heat of Holder’s success across Her face. Apparently She harbored a competitive streak. Interesting.
She focused until Her eyes crossed, but could not get the flames high enough. She stamped one holy foot in irritation.
“Let the flame rise in You, and flow through You,” one of the Sisters suggested. Maeve tried that, insofar as She could determine what it might mean.
Then it began to — well, rise. Just as the Witch said it would. There was a Flame dancing in Her that, She realized, had been there all along. Behind a door She’d never thought to knock on.
She let a little bit out.
All five crystals burst into shattering, glittering red shards of flame. They danced by Her holy command.
Holder laughed, clapping with delight.
“There She is!”
Holder reached out to pluck a flame from this spinning spectacle, forming it into a ball with her hands and tossing it back to Maeve. Flames danced all around them, and they danced along.
The Diamond Dogs stepped in and caught flames of their own, turning them different colors and tossing them back and forth easily.
“So they do have magic of some kind,” Holder murmured. It was the first time they’d seen proof.
Benjamin and Queene Death were pinned to their chairs with all the excitement. Benjamin loved the colors and Queene Death watched the exits.
They were nowhere near as excited, however, as the Sisters themselves. Who looked rattled, shocked and a little… Enraged?
Several Witches made for the exits, on some Witch mission. One aging Sister approached at speed.
“The Sacred Fires burn out of control. Lady, Your little stunt has endangered everyone on the island. We don’t appreciate this. We don’t like ringers.”
“Fuck off. All I did was what you told Me to do.”
The Witch stared, interested in Her for the first time.
“You’ve never dealt with the Flame before? Seems unlikely. But if true, You’re…”
“What would be the purpose of My lying? To what end?”
“Lady, I don’t know You. We’re supposed to give you whatever You need. But we’ve got Witches on red alert toward a flaming, dangerous hassle right now, and it’s because You lost control.”
“I’m not some sort of anarchist, I’m an amnesiac. What possible reason would I have to interfere with your Sacred Fires, whatever they are?”
“You don’t know us, Our Lady. The safety of our people is paramount. We get infiltrations weekly, by one party or another. Monsters from the sea, mutants from the Coast. We work hard, all the time.”
Some Witches nodded. It was a lonely thing, to be the Chain’s last refuge.
“I’m sorry, I had no idea. I’m new to the Chain.”
“The future is a rough place, Lady Maeve. Know that.”
“Whatever I did, I solemnly apologize. Which I don’t think I typically do.”
It was a look now that She found familiar: a little surprised, a little afraid.
“You really haven’t ever done Fire Magic before? There’s a science to it, an art. What you did was more like a shotgun blast. But the mess is worth it if we’ve found a new kind of magic. We’ve never seen anything like this.”
“Well, I can’t tell you how I do the things I do. I don’t know anything, do you understand? I have nothing to give you. It’s frustrating. Maybe once I get My memories back…”
She waved Her holy hands around vaguely, in conclusion.
Another Sister stepped forward, grinning under her veil.
“Excuse me. Queene Death — you’re five-star Flame Warden material. You lit up every one of our trainers’ senses when you hit our shores. Should you ever leave Ællaë, you have a place here. No questions asked.”
It was clear by the set of their shoulders Queene Death was proud to hear this, and Maeve was delighted. Everyone, She thought, should recognize Queene’s power and goodness, their immense skill. The Queene would never leave Her — the thought was ludicrous of course — but what a gratifying offer.
In any case, what sort of person would choose to live here? Other than the Bard Thomas, of course.
“Privation and the right kind of dreams,” She muttered. Perhaps he had known both once.
Another Sister made her way through the crowd, not long after they’d headed out. She wore her veil pushed back, like a red desert bride.
“Merry meet! Are you the outland team? I’m looking for…” She consulted a small leatherbound notebook. “Holder Stone’s group. I’m Sister Nora.”
Holder smiled warmly, welcoming Nora in. She was notably alone.
“Where is your Warden? Your Coven?”
Nora blushed. She had tiny freckles across her cheeks.
“I’m here under my own steam. I hoped to catch a glimpse of the Bard — but it looks like he’s already gone.”
“You know Thomas? How is that possible? Are you secretly a thousand years old, like Most Virtuous?”
Nora nodded, hiding a secret smile. And not answering, Holder noted.
“I never met him. He’s in exile, I thought long dead. I found old recordings in his secret place in the School of the Flame — must’ve hidden them away right before his banishment. I had never heard anything so beautiful — or so powerful. His magic is worth its own field of study.”
“And that’s your goal? To study him?”
Being studied seemed like something Thomas would really enjoy, Holder thought. To be passionately and minutely observed, in all his charm and talent. To be known.
“Oh, no. He seems like an asshole. But I study his music. His songspells have inspired what I believe should be its own discipline. We’ve had Spellsingers before and since, but they tend to be prodigies too — and none like this. Nobody rigorous, nobody righteous.”
Thomas would laugh heartily at each description — asshole, rigorous, righteous, even perhaps prodigy — but she was so winningly earnest Holder didn’t want to burst her bubble.
“I’m sure he’d be thrilled to meet. Perhaps when he’s back in Port…”
Sister Nora ducked her head in gratitude.
“I’d be thrilled to meet him too, of course, as a matter of curiosity. But in terms of supplying helpful information, the rumor is that none of you is currently capable of offering much of that. Are you not amnesiacs?”
She said it quietly, but it needed to be nipped in the bud. The killers needn’t know they were lost out in the Chain, vulnerable and weak. Holder put on her most serious face.
“That’s highly classified, Nora. Can I trust you? Can we trust you with our secrets?”
She wondered how long Nora had been on Santana, if she came from elsewhere. It seemed a rather personal thing to ask a stranger.
“I’ve no one to tell,” Nora said, with a quiet, telling dignity. “Your secrets are safe with me.”
Our Lady Maeve considered her. An interesting person, this Sister Nora. Something close to that feeling of safety and brilliance Holder gave her. Too cheerful by half, but a good soul. Our Lady Maeve could always tell.
“…We are here in Santana looking for a cure, yes. But we are in grave, immediate danger until we get that cure. Are there any Witches you know who can do memory magic?” Holder asked, with a kind of hope.
They’d have loved a reason to end-run around the imperious Mothers altogether. Nora nodded again, happy to be of no help at all.
“Mother Laitha leads a circle of memory mages, actually. High level magic. But be wary. Dry Witches make unbreakable deals.”
Holder pondered the implication and pressed on. The direct route.
“How do we get to Mother Laitha, then?”
“She’ll meet you at the Bonfires when it’s time,” Nora said vaguely, aware she’d gotten in over her head with Witch business. Holder chose a little pity.
“If you had the Bard here, what would you ask him?”
“Technical things, mostly. I don’t care too much about him as an individual. I guess I’d like to know what got him banished,” she added hopefully.
“So would we. So would he, for that matter.”
Nora thought about that a moment, thick brows knitting.
“Without more primary sources, I don’t think I’ll be able to make him my full-time discipline just yet. So I’m widening the aperture for now: Fire Magic in a Musical Setting. I can narrow it down to the Bard later, maybe.”
She knew more than she was telling, but not by much.
“Once we get his memory back, we’ll see about setting up an interview, would you like that?”
Nora nodded in youthful excitement, clapping her notebook closed.
“Oh, yes. Yes, please!”
Maeve spared a thought for the twosome, Sailorboy and the Bard Thomas, and hoped they were having fun. They did seem to really enjoy each other’s company — and of course, it would be nice if Sailorboy had someone to care for who wasn’t Our Lady.
Sister Nora pointed east, then west.
“Sunstone Port is our main port of entry and marketplace. Port Merrymet is mostly Witches in training, and Covens looking for new members. The Fire Eagle Mesa and the Burning Springs are west. When you’re ready, meet me there and I’ll take you to the Mothers.”
Maeve wanted to get it over with and head straight there — the lack of respect from these Witches was wearing thin — but She knew the ever-curious Holder Stone would want to visit every spot she could. Holder was loving all of this, to a degree that made Maeve almost as happy.
Port Merrymet had an entirely different energy from Sunstone Port: Less seaside town and more like a permanent carnival.
The Daughters and Junior Wardens, so teenaged, so awkwardly did they go about learning how to be people. The most wonderful, most terrible time. Add Fire Magic on top of that? Unimaginable sparks.
Unaffiliated novitiates crowded off the train car behind the group: a clutch of Daughters of the Flame. They swirled around them, coalescing back into young women out of bright red clouds on the other side. Must be one of the first spells they learn, she thought. Very flashy.
The young women set off in a powerful Brownian motion that could have threatened to take Her with it into the Port proper, if She let it.
“They’re wonderful,” Maeve breathed. “So strong. So hopeful.”
“There’s much for them to be joyous about,” Holder agreed. “Their ancestors worked very hard to create this oasis for them, and the magic to keep it safe.”
“Are they everywhere in the Chain? Or just here in Santana?”
“You’ll catch a few here and there, often enough they don’t cause a scene when they do drop in. They have the best intel network in the Chain for sure — if you need information, this is where you come. I don’t buy a lot of the veils and everything. Pomp and circumstance. Every Witch I ever met just dressed kind of normal.”
Maeve looked at her hands.
“Are you disappointed?”
Holder laughed.
“Gosh, no. It’s like finding a whole galaxy in your backyard. I knew they were interesting, but I had no idea!”
Maeve could remember how hungry Holder always was for knowledge. Input. New areas of study. She’d read her way through the ancient libraries of Europe, back before they made their way Stateside. Before there was a United States to make way to, really.
“I love how you’re loving this.” Maeve found her hand on Holder’s shoulder, sitting easily there. “And I wanted to thank you. I know babysitting us isn’t the best use of your time. Or even demeaning…”
Holder shook her head.
“Sometimes I do see Her in You, Lady Maeve. She shines through. It’s happening more and more. I don’t resent You for not being Her, because You are Her. And so how could I call getting You back wasted time? The only wasted time is whatever stands between us and Your memories.”
Maeve squeezed her shoulder in gratitude.
“Well, thank you. No wonder She loves you so much.”
Maeve and Queene Death noted more and more of the veiled Sisters in the crowd, as the shadows lengthened.
Holder had the idea at the same moment Maeve did: Initiation ritual? Would they get to see something cool?
Maybe not yet. But Maeve was determined to find something on Santana that would simply astonish Holder Stone.