Page 71 of Junk Magic

The Weres who’d brought the wood were like Danny, being several years older than the guys Cyrus had called to surround Jace all day. They’d stopped for fried chicken on the way here; I could smell it. And they must have eaten a lot, because they were calm, with their movements sure and unhurried as they finished building the pyre.

I didn’t have to ask why they’d waited. They hadn’t wanted the mages here, any more than I had. Hadn’t wanted them to see.

It made me worried, because my students had come, too. I didn’t turn around, but I didn’t need to. I could pick them out by their scents, which formed an uneasy cloud around them and the bus, which they were still standing beside.

They weren’t sure that they were welcomed, either.

I should have thought of that. I’d been too busy thinking about me to wonder how they would manage. They weren’t even used to normal human things, like going to a grocery store or having a barbeque. How the hell were they going to react to this?

And that was assuming that the Weres would stand for having a bunch of humans at an event that in no way concerned them. They were coming back now, in twos and threes, bearing their offerings to the pyre in their mouths. Nobody had Changed back; it took too much energy, and they would only have to Change again, after the pyre had burned down to ashes.

They were going to run tonight, run as a group, run until they couldn’t run anymore. And then sleep together in a big pile, soft and warm and there for their brother, who had lost so much. My students couldn’t do that and wouldn’t be welcomed if they could. Even another clan wouldn’t be.

This night was for family.

I turned to Cyrus, about to tell him that I’d take my group back. That they could ride in the truck with me and he and the boys could meet us later. But before I could, something amazing happened.

Jace hadn’t run with the others, nor had he transformed. That was against tradition; he should have been leading them. But I wasn’t sure he knew that.

I wasn’t sure what he knew, this boy without a clan, only what he did. He walked over to the group by the bus and took Kimmie’s hand. I hadn’t noticed until that moment that she’d come, too, as she had been so quiet and so far in the background that she blended into the shadows. But I saw her now, her dark eyes uncertain as Jace gave her a floral laden branch, as Cyrus had done for me.

But after a brief hesitation, she took it and followed him. And one by one, the others did the same: Jen, her short, blond bob painted red in the sunset, her blue eyes liquid; Sophie, her fiery hair like a flame, and gold glinting deep in her pupils; Aki, his blue hair purple as it fought with the sun, and his usual boisterous personality dimmed. And finally, the last two boys, with Dimas barely a glimmer on the night, his changeable skin reflecting the desert like a mirror.

For once, even Chris didn’t have anything to say.

But Cyrus did, after the body had been positioned atop the pyre, and the flowers and branches laid. He delivered the eulogy as the day surrendered to night and the stars bloomed overhead. It was strong and hopeful, and more than words. It was like the smell of the desert in my nose, like the whisper of the wind over sand, like the strong bond of connection I could feel flowing through me and every person there.

I didn’t know if the others could sense it, too, but they felt like parts of my own body. Their breath caught in my lungs, their blood pounded in my veins, their sorrow flowed down my cheeks, mingling with my own. I could almost see a ribbon of energy streaming through each of us, binding us, knotting us together. I didn’t know all their names, but I knew them, in a primal way I had never felt before.

It was like the senses I’d experienced on the road, all mingling together into one. We felt like a single entity for a moment, with our breath in sync as well as our hearts. It was beautiful.

And so were the flames, lit by Jace at each corner of the pyre as Cyrus’s voice faded away, and that quickly leapt toward the stars overhead. But not high enough. Not even with the magic fuel smelling faintly of juniper that the pyre had been doused with.

I started forward, to help it along with a spell, hoping that that would be allowed. But then stopped halfway. Because someone else was there before me.

I hadn’t even expected her to come, much less to participate. But there she was, kneeling by the pyre, her eyes closed, the flames splashing her body. Kimmie, so afraid of her power but so determined to help, with the two warring strains purely visible on her face.

And then whited out as the fire suddenly sprang off the pyre like a wild thing, billowing higher and higher and higher as if reaching for the stars with hands of pure, white light.

Kimmie was pulled back by the others, some mage, some wolf, her eyes shining with the flames she had multiplied out of all reason. I felt the heat, but not much of it, as she’d multiplied the wood, too. The pyre, so short and inadequate a moment ago, now towered over the surrounding desert, maybe a couple of stories high, with flames leaping up hundreds of more feet into the air.

The light spangled all below it, like a star come down to Earth, turning night back into the brightest of days. For a moment, we all caught our breath in wonder, amazed at the pyre's power and strange, otherworldly beauty. And then the whole thing went up, in a whoosh that deafened me and sent us stumbling back, as the entire edifice was consumed in an instant, transformed into a single, great spire of light . . .

And then was it was gone, like a snuffed-out candle, leaving only a haze of ash swirling into the heavens that seemed to go on forever.

Chapter Twenty

My phone rang halfway back to Vegas. I was returning with those of us who couldn’t transform, leaving those who could to other pursuits. For once, I’d watched the boys run away across the desert with no envy in my heart. I guessed it was too full for such things tonight.

And then it felt like it stopped in my chest, when I heard Sebastian on the other end of the line.

I didn’t know why I reacted so strongly. I knew he was in town, and would be until the Conclave was over. But there was something in his voice that let me know that this was serious.

“I’ve been trying to reach you all night,” he began, without the usual pleasantries. Considering that Sebastian was a diplomat, that wasn’t good.

“I was out of range,” I said. “Cyrus is—”

“I wasn’t asking about him. Where are you now?”

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