Gods of Chaos (Red Magic) Read online

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.

  Copyright © 2015 by Jen McConnel

  GODS OF CHAOS by Jen McConnel

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by Month9Books, LLC.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Published by Month9Books

  Cover designed by Whit & Ware Design

  Cover Copyright © 2015 Month9Books

  To Laura, who loved Darlena from the first.

  “Darlena, sweetie, it’s time to light the fire.” Mom’s voice was muffled by the clothes in my closet, but I couldn’t pretend I hadn’t heard her. I’d promised to celebrate Solstice with her and Dad, even though all I wanted to do was hide in my room, and my mother wouldn’t take kindly to a broken promise. That was one of the downsides to having a Witch for a mom; in our world, words had power, and promises couldn’t be made lightly. With a sigh, I crawled into my room, feeling the familiar tingling as I passed through the protective ward. My closet was the one place nothing magical could reach me. I looked into the sanctuary with regret, but I had hidden long enough.

  I made a halfhearted attempt at untangling my long red hair, but after a moment, I gave up. My parents already knew the worst thing about me; it was too late to start worrying about their opinion of my knotted hair. I wasn’t sure what they thought about everything that had happened last fall, but they didn’t seem to hold Rochelle’s death against me.

  That didn’t mean I wasn’t guilty.

  Weary, I rubbed my eyes and glanced in the mirror mounted on the front of my closet door. I looked like a ghost; Rochelle would have laughed at my pathetic expression and deeply sunken eyes, but Rochelle wasn’t here anymore.

  She was gone because of me.

  My parents knew I was a murderer, but they hadn’t said anything after I killed Rochelle. They let me retreat into the darkness of my room, and it wasn’t until last week that Mom had started trying to talk to me through the door. She told me she loved me, and she offered to do anything to help me with my path. Her words pierced my gloom, and, like an idiot, I promised to come down for Solstice. I would have had to leave my room tomorrow anyway, since I was picking up the threads from the fall and starting my quest to find another Red Witch, but in reality, I would have rather not faced my parents before I left for Scotland. Still, a promise is a promise, so I headed downstairs.

  Candles glowed on every surface, casting the living room and kitchen in a strange, buttery light. I blinked; after months shrouded in the darkness of my room, even the candlelight felt bright. Xerxes stalked by me, his tail lifted imperiously. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed the old cat until that moment. I knelt down to scratch his ears, and the candles flickered as my vision clouded. For a moment, it looked like I was in a cavern, surrounded by flames. Sharp rock walls pressed in on me, and everywhere I looked, I saw the orange-red glow of fire. The heat singed my skin, but I wasn’t afraid. It was as if I were the fire.

  I’d had this vision repeatedly ever since Rochelle’s death, but that didn’t mean I had any idea what it meant.

  The cat hissed, shooting up the stairs as if he’d been scorched, and I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my mind. I could still hear the sound that always accompanied the vision of the cave: a wailing, inhuman voice. It sounded like it was screaming my name.

  “Lena?” My dad stood in the kitchen, watching me warily.

  I glanced down, and noticed my hands were covered in red sparks. Sticking them behind my back, I shook my head, dispelling the lingering vision. “Sorry. Just a dizzy spell.”

  He nodded, looking relieved. Dad didn’t pry about Red magic. Sometimes, it seemed like he pretended I’d declared to the Green path like him and Mom. Once, I had minded his aloof, distant attitude, but ever since fighting Rochelle, I wished my parents didn’t know I was a Red. If he wanted to pretend it had all never happened, I wouldn’t begrudge him that.

  Dad forced a smile. “Help me with the cider, will you?”

  He handed me two cups of steaming cider, and ladled a third from the silver Crockpot on the counter. With his free hand, he opened the sliding door, and I followed him outside.

  The cold air bit into my face, and I looked at the yard in shock. Frost hung on the branches, and even the evergreens looked brown. Winter had come on with a vengeance while I hid in my closet; the last time I’d been outside, the air was still crisp and apple-scented. Now, it was like everything green was dead, and I had the terrible, irrational fear that the earth wouldn’t wake up from this bitter season.

  “It hasn’t been a mild winter,” Mom said, glancing up from the fire pit and noticing my stunned expression. She’d built a nest of leaves and newspaper for the Yule log to rest on, but she hadn’t lit it yet.

  “Strange for North Carolina,” Dad added, settling into his lawn chair. He scooted closer to the fire pit, holding his cider in one hand. Steam curled lazily into the air. I watched it drift into the clear sky, and I shivered.

  I started to hand Mom her cup, but she shook her head and stood. “The fire’s ready.”

  I closed my eyes and began the familiar incantation without setting down the mugs. “Let this fire burn away the dark.”

  My dad joined in. “Let our lives make their mark.”

  My mother spoke the next line in her calm voice. “We celebrate the longest night, and look for the coming of the light.” The smell of sulfur filled the air as she struck a match.

  Power suddenly surged in me, and I fought down the impulse to light the fire with Red magic. My hands felt like I had dipped them in flames, and my eyes flew open. The cups of cider had exploded in my grasp, and hot liquid scalded my palms. Red sparks danced up and down my arms for the second time that night, searing my flesh.

  I must have whimpered, because Mom looked up from the now-lit fire. “Oh, sweetie,” she said softly. “I’ll get some more. Do you want a dish of cool water for your hands?”

  I shook my head, wiping my sticky hands on the frosty ground. The pain dimmed, but my palms still pulsed faintly. The red sparks had subsided, but I knew what they meant. I had used Red magic without meaning to.

  Dad opened his eyes and shot me a curious look. I was glad he hadn’t seen the explosion.

  “I’m fine,” I lied, sliding into my seat beside the fire. I stared at the flames, stewing. I had never hurt myself with magic; it was like it had acted of its own accord for a minute. I shook my head, denying the frightening thought. The orange flames licked at the wood and I stared at them, trying to feed my worries into the fire. Whatever had just happened with the fire and the cider couldn’t happen again; I couldn’t risk losing control of my magic. What if I hurt Mom or Dad?

  A gentle hand touched my shoulder, and Mom wrapped my fingers around another mug. She smiled at me, but her eyes were full of worry. She didn’t say anything, though, and I was grateful. If she’d asked what happened, I don’t think I would have had an answer.

  It was hard to be outside with my parents. What did they really think of me now? Were they relieved that I was leaving tomorrow? How the hell was I supposed to know? Mom had offered her support to coax me out of the closet, but she seemed just as awkward as Dad now that I was with them again.

&nbs
p; Nervously, I tried to talk to them, but mostly, I just listened. They spent the evening talking of small things, avoiding any serious topics. Dad hardly looked at me, but every now and again I caught Mom’s worried glance across the fire. I sank deeper into my seat, wishing I had learned how to turn myself invisible. At midnight, my dad raised his glass of spiced cider in a toast and smiled awkwardly at me. “Here’s to our little Red Witch. May your fires always bring warmth without burning.” He thought he was just teasing, but his words stung. Of course he wouldn’t understand; he was a Green, and he’d never used magic to bring harm. He probably never would, and yet harm seemed to be the one thing I was capable of causing ever since I swore to follow the Red path.

  Just before dawn, when the fire had all but died down to embers, my mom stood up. Spreading her arms wide, she looked into the last of the flickering flames.

  “The coming year will bring challenges, but I am ready to face them.” Her voice was strong and clear.

  My father stood, adding the next words of our annual ritual. “The coming year will bring sadness, but I am ready to weep.”

  I rose and lifted my arms, mirroring them. “The coming year will bring surprises, but I am ready to learn.” The words were bitter in my mouth; what more could I possibly learn, except that I was dangerous?

  Dad reached out and clasped my hand, and I leaned forward to grab my mother’s hand, too. Standing there linked around the fire, I felt the strength and support of my parents holding me up. Energy surged through me, and I felt strong and confident for the first time in months. In that moment, I was sure that I could face anything that Hecate might throw at me, and despite everything that had happened that fall, I almost started to look forward to my upcoming trip.

  Because of a dream I’d had right after defeating Rochelle, I had a pretty good idea that I’d find another Red Witch in Scotland. Even though it would have been easier to just leave it alone and let chaos take over, I still wanted to resist the darker nature of Red magic. Hecate had been thrilled I’d been so dangerous up ’til now, but I thought I could change that if I found another Red. If I wasn’t strong enough to stand against Hecate on my own, maybe two Reds together would tip the balance.

  I had almost given up on opposing Hecate after Rochelle died, but Justin, my sort-of ex, had snapped me out of it. Every day, I woke up to another series of texts from him on my phone, and finally, last week, I read what he’d sent. It was chilling; while I’d been hiding in my room, chaos had been bubbling up all over my territory. I had thought by stepping back and stopping magic altogether, I might abate chaos, but that didn’t seem to be true; fires, small explosions, shootings, and other disasters had been plaguing the Americas, and they seemed to be getting worse the longer I stayed incommunicado.

  I don’t know why Justin didn’t give up on me; I still hadn’t called or messaged him back, but his constant, frightening updates had snapped me out of my depressed stupor. Determined to find a way once and for all to stop causing destruction, I booked a flight to Edinburgh and started to pack. I didn’t think to ask my parents’ permission; ever since I became a Red Witch, it felt silly to act like everything was normal, but they saw the credit card bill. Mom didn’t ask any questions, just bribed me into agreeing to celebrate Solstice with them, and Dad hadn’t mentioned the trip at all.

  Being a Red Witch was proving to be even lonelier than I had anticipated, but at least they didn’t try to stop me.

  The plane jerked, and I fought back a wave of nausea. The woman in the seat next to me had her eyes shut, and her mouth was moving silently. Looking out the window, I pictured Persephone somewhere beneath me, and I whispered my own prayer. We hadn’t spoken since her return to the Underworld after Rochelle’s death, but I had a feeling I wasn’t done with the goddess’s influence in my life.

  Because of Hecate, I had learned the destructive powers of Red magic, but Persephone had sought me out and given me a chance to change the chaos. In her marriage, she strove for balance of the world of her husband and the world of light above, and the time I’d spent with her convinced me that I wanted to help find balance, too, but to do that, I would need a better understanding of the forces that controlled my magic. Maybe another Red could be my teacher as well as my ally. It was worth a shot.

  Sighing, I pressed my head against the small, cold window. The plane jerked again, and I bit my tongue. The sharp taste of blood filled my senses, and my head swam. I never used to have any reaction to the sight or smell of blood, but the more I worked with Red magic, the more blood seemed to affect me.

  It made having my period even worse than before.

  “I hate flying.” I turned, surprised at the voice. My seatmate hadn’t spoken to me once during the six hours we’d been in the air, and I hadn’t expected her to stop praying any time soon; the plane was still jerking around like a panicked bat, and even I was starting to get nervous.

  Sweat glistened on her forehead, and she fingered a small gold cross around her neck. She was dressed in a rumpled blue business suit, and something about her gray hair and eye makeup reminded me of my grandmother. I felt kind of bad for the Non.

  “It’ll get better.” Despite my efforts, I failed to sound chipper.

  She shook her head. “I’m being punished.”

  “What do you mean?” Great, I ended up next to a nut.

  “God is testing my faith.”

  I sighed. “Well, I think we’ll be on the ground in a couple more hours, and then you can tell God that you still believe.”

  She shook her head. “I will never be forgiven.”

  I forced a yawn. “I’m sorry, I really need to try and sleep.” I leaned against the window, hoping that would shut her up, but she kept talking to herself.

  “I have dabbled in sorcery and will not be forgiven.”

  My ears pricked up at her words.

  “I made a bargain with the dark lady, and the Lord knows.”

  A chill ran down my spine. I turned around. “What dark lady?”

  She stared at me emptily. “The one who is seeking you.”

  Shit.

  Before I could ask her anything else, the plane lurched sickeningly and the lights flickered. There was a pause, and then the entire cabin was plunged into darkness. For a moment, I felt the urge to use magic to bring the plane crashing down. My hands started to tingle, and with a shock, I saw red sparks dancing on my skin. My seatmate gasped, but I ignored her and dug my nails into my palms. Where did that come from? It was the third time in two days I’d almost lost control of my magic, and I was starting to freak out.

  A woman in the back of the plane shrieked, but otherwise, everything was deathly still. The intercom sprang to life, and the pilot’s voice came on.

  “Don’t worry, folks,” she said, “just a slight power malfunction. Stay in your seats and remain calm.”

  Sobs echoed through the dark, and I realized the woman beside me had started crying. “Lord, save me!” she moaned.

  I leaned over. “What did you tell the dark lady?” I hissed, my voice sounding loud and hollow in the dim cabin. I hated the way she recoiled from me, but I had to know.

  “I said I’d help her catch you,” she whimpered.

  “How?”

  Hesitantly, she pulled a knife out of the seat pocket in front of her. It was serrated, like a jumbo steak knife, and I leaned back involuntarily. She must have had it glamoured to get through security, and I looked around, nervous. Had anyone noticed? The panicked passengers seemed too worried about the jerking plane to notice that a little old lady had a blade pointed at me.

  “I told her I’d keep you on the plane. I told her when we landed, I wouldn’t move. You’d be trapped here in your seat until she came.” Her words came so fast, she almost sounded drunk, and I stared at her for a minute, trying to process what she’d said.

  The panic in the woman’s eyes was obvious, and I could tell she didn’t want to use the knife. “What did she offer you?”

  T
he woman’s hand shook. “She said that I would die with you if I didn’t help her.”

  As far as I knew, the gods couldn’t directly interfere with humans, so it was unlikely that Hecate would kill us. However, if she had another Witch messing with the weather, I’d be just as dead as the next person if the plane went down. I glanced out the window just as a bolt of lightning jumped between clouds. The intercom snapped to life again.

  “Folks, please stay calm. We’re going to have to take a slight detour, but we’ll get you to Edinburgh in no time. Flight attendants, prepare for emergency landing.”

  I thought the woman next to me was going to pass out. “We’re going to drown!” She waved the knife frantically, and I ducked.

  “No we’re not.” I touched the screen on the seat in front of me, forcing myself to stay calm. “Look.”

  The red line that showed the plane’s trajectory had shifted on the map, and we weren’t hovering over the Atlantic Ocean anymore. We were headed for a small island.

  “Is that Greenland?” she panted.

  I squinted at the map. “No. Iceland.”

  For an emergency landing, things seemed to go remarkably well. I was tense until the wheels ground down on the runway, but luckily, the landing distracted the woman beside me. She was still holding the knife, but it was no longer pointed at me.

  Hecate had almost seen me dead twice. I worried the third time might do it.

  “I’m so sorry,” the woman next to me whispered when we landed. She gripped the blade and stared at it.

  I glanced at the aisle. Frightened passengers streamed off the plane. “We aren’t in Scotland. Isn’t that where you told her you would hold me?”

  She nodded uncertainly, and I threw as much glamour as I could into my words.

  “Well, we aren’t in Scotland yet. You don’t have to do anything.”

  She hesitated, looking confused.

  I kept pouring magic into my voice. “She’ll never blame you. The plane had to land in Iceland. You lost sight of me at the airport. Maybe they’ll even route me on a different flight. No one would blame you,” I repeated firmly.