Page 2 of The Rat King
And I would do all of that with a bad ass make-up kit. Maybe women in the world where I was going wore a rainbow of colors on their faces, and I’d finally get to put my stage makeup classes into action from that theater degree at the University of Miami I never completed.
I sighed. “It is just a little hard to believe that in a few days, I’ll be in a land that not even the most sophisticated military technology can locate, married to a warlock king. He’s the warlock, correct?”
“I believe it is the brother who’s the powerful warlock king, but he was exiled, from what I understand. King Xavier Helicanus, the warlock’s brother, is like you, dear.”
I frowned. King Helicanus was like me… without magic. It was impressive that in a land full of mages, this man who would be my husband was able to maintain such a powerful position. A fact which intrigued me.
A light rapt sounded at the door. “Come in,” Aunt Esmerelda said.
“Is our virgin sacrifice ready?” Vivian, a quick-witted blonde witch about my age asked, giving me a devilish wink in the mirror to which I rolled my eyes. Sometimes the things that came out of Viv’s mouth had me shaking my head.
“I’m not a virgin and this isn’t that great of a sacrifice, Viv,” I said. And it wasn’t, all things considered. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or whatever. I would go, and the coven and all the witches around the world would be safe for another set period. Blah, blah. The thing was, I was looking forward to the adventure, as unbelievable as that sounded. I rolled my shoulders.
“It’s not like I’ll never see you all again, and I’m happy to do it,” I said, as Cara, a tall, true redhead, and the matron of the bunch who I was guessing my aunt had modeled herself after walked into the room. Matilda, a raven haired, olive-skinned witch was a step behind her, followed by the final three. Jade, the youngest of the three, was of African descent. As in her parents were from and still lived in Kenya. Hazel, who, you guessed it, had hazel eyes and mousy medium brown hair, and a quiet disposition. And then there was Tabitha, who had a black pixie cut and a tiny flat nose that literally reminded me of a cat, no joke.
“We’re ready,” Esmerelda said, ushering me to my feet. The little cottage sat at the edge of the botanical gardens where the witches carved out and spelled this particular clearing for their rituals. It was a short drive from Miami and its major international airport and had convenient parking. Under the thick canopy of the towering tropical forest, the humid, near steamy air and numerous ponds gave it an eerie vibe. Perfect for a modern-day witch’s needs.
The cottage itself appeared to the outside world as a gargantuan Sweetbay Magnolia. To us it was something that looked like a home Hansel and Gretel would live in, but with air conditioning. The exterior door curved at the top and had a circular window. Every time I came here, I got the strange urge to order one of those gingerbread house kits and put it together, then promptly eat it, of course.
“Do you think it is going to be more likeAn American in ParisorBarefoot in the Park?” I asked as we walked out into the clearing where the moonlight streamed down into it framed by the towering bald cypress trees hovering around its edges.
“More likeBlood Wedding,” Vivian said, and snorted. Esmerelda whacked her arm, and I caught the other woman’s smirk out of the corner of my eye.
I tried to ignore the comment, but the twenty-five percent of my mind that was filled with trepidation latched onto it. The playBlood Weddingwas a tragedy about an arranged marriage and a third character who was the bride’s true love from what I could remember. I was quite sure either one or both of the lovers die at the end.
“That is incredibly rude, Viv,” I said. “Especially considering the momentous sacrifice I’m making to keep you and all of those children you keep popping out safe.” I gave her my own smirk and shot a glance at her swollen belly. “I told you, I expect you to name this one after me.”
“But what if it’s a boy?” Jade asked, blinking her innocent, dark eyes between us.
“Avery, it is. Either way, Viv. That was the deal,” I said.
“Viv wasn’t pregnant for like ten minutes and you managed to get her to agree to name her next child after you?” Tabitha asked.
“That’s what I heard.” Hazel’s voice was nearly a whisper.
Esmerelda, Matilda, and Cara shared a look, then Cara pointed a finger toward the sky. The moon had reached its apex, and it was time.
I turned toward my friends. “I expect you to put a hex on Viv if that baby comes out and she names it Frank or something.”
We fell into a fit of giggles, even as the older witches urged us into the circle with me and Esmerelda at the center.
“Any final words?” Vivian asked.
I shook my head, latching onto my aunt’s arm with one hand. My other tugged at my oversized backpack straps again to make sure it was still there. “Umm, catch you on the flip side?” I hoped it sounded as cool when I said it as that movie I saw.
“Don’t ever lose that fire, Avery.” Cara began chanting. The other witches joined her, followed last by my aunt.
I wasn’t sure if it was the sensation of moving between planes, or the ominous knowing look in Cara’s eye that caused my stomach to drop.
Chapter 2
Avery
Theweightlesssensationebbedas my feet gained purchase on the pine-needle covered ground. My flats flickered like evaporating static on an old black and white TV set, and I assessed the rest of my form flashing into reality. My world tilted as my equilibrium settled and Esmerelda’s hand shot out, wrapping around my arm.
“Steady,” she said, before releasing me when she was certain I wouldn’t topple over. Metal creaked and my head snapped up to follow the sound.
A tall,very tall, brown-haired man stepped out of a maroon carriage which sat on a dirt road, partially obscured by a large copse of spindly pine trees. Long legs carried him over to us, the power he exuded seeming to part the trees as he passed. We’d landed a little off the road, and as he approached, he ran his calculating, green-flecked hazel eyes up and down my frame, frowning.
