He could stay where he was, largely dormant, even if it meant she didn’t have nearly as much power to draw on.
It was the sphinx who jumped to the rescue. “The girl many of us were acquainted with was one of the local Faerie, as I understand it. Wearing this one’s face.”
“Ah. Yeah,” Mags said.
“My name is Isadora, and Paige, sitting over there, is with me. She is a tool for me to express some of my power with.”
Rose could see that Paige had been put on the spot. Her cousin hurried to stand and present herself.
Even as Peter whispered, “Even she knows you’re a tool.”
Still smiling, looking proper, Paige managed a short, sharp kick at Peter’s shin.
He bit his tongue to avoid crying out in pain.
Rose privately wished one of the two had been able and willing to ignore the other.
“While everyone is looking this way, I am Jeremy Meath, High Priest of Dionysus. My god’s favor is limited, tonight, largely spent. I still hope to find a resolution.”
The introductions continued.
“I am the Elder Sister, Lord of Toronto. You should know who I am. These three women are elementalists in my employ. This is the Eye of the Storm, a moderate elemental.”
“Emily Attwell, illusionist. I’m part of the Toronto council for my own protection, as my father didn’t make many friends.”
“Diana. Astrologer. I don’t have a lot to bring to the table, but more because it’s fixated in Toronto. I brought three arrangements, and a fourth to recharge another. I’ve already used two.”
“I’m Nick, of the Knights of the Basement. With the Elder Sister’s permission, we joined this conflict over the Lordship, as Rose Thorburn was very convincing in her explanation of how the city might be swallowed up by darker powers. We’re novices, better with guns than with practice, though we prefer weapons and armor augmented with practice.”
“I’m the Queen’s Man,” another said. “I’m well out of my depth. I serve a spirit of patriotism for a place that isn’t here, my responsibilities lie more with gathering knowledge so others might deal with Others, but this isn’t a realm I can contribute anything to. Not demons, never demons.”
Rose hadn’t paid much attention to the man, and it seemed it was for a reason. He didn’t have much presence or power.
“If nothing else,” Mags said, “You’ve helped me launch into the next part of our discussion. Rose? Thorburns, allies of Rose? Could you present yourselves?”
Oh, she skipped me so she could leave me until last.
She put more thought into this than I gave her credit for.
Rose stood from the pew. Alister held her hand, giving it a squeeze before letting go.
The stares were so hostile, Rose realized. They were scared and that fear sought someone to blame.
But, in the midst of that, there was something gratifying in having so many people stand with her.
At the very beginning of this, she’d been so alone. Even if the memories were spotty, heavily and badly edited, she could connect the dots, and she knew the feelings of loneliness back in the beginning were real.
Even when she’d had Blake there, when she’d worked alongside him, she’d been entirely isolated. Only a surprise kiss from Padraic had broken that seclusion. If there was anything else, it had disappeared along with her memories of Blake.
Now, she could see, that Paige was standing with her. Tiff had her back, while Ty wasn’t here. She’d seen him come in, which meant he had to be lying down somewhere, hopefully bandaged or healed by some practice.
She felt bad that she hadn’t focused on him more. Too distracted, too tired.
But Peter was standing with her, and Roxanne was too. Christoff, Evan…
They shuffled a bit as they returned to their seats. Rose was left standing.
“Am I wrong, or do you know the most about what’s going on?” Mags asked.
“I think I do,” Rose said.
Mags took a step to stage-right, away from the Altar, and away from Rose.
Rose took that as her invitation to approach.
She’d invited these people here to force them into a conflict. All well and good when they had to decide between fighting the enemy and fighting her, but the enemy wasn’t here.
Blake moved around inside her, touching on different things. It felt weaker than before, though no less uncomfortable.
This is the culmination of everything I’ve studied. All of grandmother’s work. A failure here would be devastating.
“Mags just introduced us. Let me introduce them. They are members of one of several groups that exist around the world, dedicated to diabolism. They call themselves lawyers, and they sort of are in the activities they focus on, but that’s only theme. There are others. In each case, they’ve traded away their selves and souls to escape the consequences of their actions. They wanted me to do the same. In an abstract way, it speeds things along. Gives more power to their side.”
The room was impossible to read, in expression and body language. She had to dig for some context to figure out how to address them, and she dug for the academic. Just as she’d needed to fine-tune every assignment to the tastes and moods of her teachers, she did it here. They wanted answers, to know what they were up against.
Blake had given her the information, she only needed to convey it.
“As a group, they’re strong, but not so strong they truly want to go head to head against Toronto or other major groups. Or they weren’t, until they got Johannes and the gatekeeper, Faysal. They have monstrous power at their disposal, but they’re not inclined to use it. They help others use it, and I think they work with demons to do it, but the dynamic there is too complex to get into, and I’d be making less educated guesses and statements than I’m making now.”
Rose thought of Ornias. The offer Ms. Lewis had made only made sense if the firm had been in direct communication with demons. Ornias might well have promised great power at a minimal price, if only the firm helped establish first contact with a new diabolist and gave him access to the world.
Every set of eyes and ears was on her.
“As individuals,” Rose continued, “They’re people who sold out humanity, in ways many accused me of doing. They want to finish with their deal and their loss of self and there’s a fucked up pyramid scheme where they can shave years off their sentences by sentencing others.
“In life, most were depraved, dangerous types. The sort we all fear when we think of diabolists. They could end this almost easily, but they’d destroy themselves to do it, and they won’t do that. I believe they’re motivated by a desire to keep their group operating, and I think that if they fail to meet expectations, the power that makes their group possible is going to revoke its favor, and them with it. Self preservation is going to come to a head with the need to keep their positions secure. Our problem is that they already have the means of doing that.”
“Johannes,” Mags said.
“Johannes,” Rose agreed. “And through him, they have Faysal. The Barber that possesses Johannes has a physical form while he’s inside the body. We don’t need to worry about his abstract nature. We do need to worry that he can penetrate most barriers and protections. Even here. Alister Behaim knew some measures, but they won’t work while the Barber has a body. It can rewrite reality with its shears, an object possessed in an entirely different sense, and it can carve a person or Other in two, giving each half the traits it wants. It has all of this, it has Faysal, who can carry it anywhere, it has Johannes’ Demesne, and it has, I’m very concerned, the ability to crown itself Lord and seize Jacob’s Bell.”