Chapter Fourteen:
I went to see Bianca and Oliver on the day before New Year’s Eve, sharing the full story of my heritage with them. Neither had heard of such an appalling tradition, but Oliver mentioned that one of the priests he knew at work told him there were dark ways to get children if he grew desperate enough.
“Most Teuton priests don’t admit to ‘dark’ stuff, even though almost all of the sorcery they practice is dark,” Oliver said as we sat around their kitchen table, splitting a pizza. “I figured he was hinting at asking a Cursed One for help. That’s a path we’re not going to take.”
I shuddered all over at the thought of requesting help from such an entity. Cursed Ones, or Black Priests, were Teuton males in service to Wuotan himself, exiled from the living in recompense for some terrible crime. Bianca cringed when her husband spoke the words. “Any Teuton priest who enslaves a woman ought to be cursed. Seems like something demons would encourage.”
“Agreed.” I bit a forkful of pizza, sharing a knowing look with my friend.
“Problem is, once a Teuton priest binds a woman’s heart, he becomes head of his own family, according to our people’s customs,” Oliver said. “That means only an unbound Teuton priest could be cursed.”
I glanced at Bianca’s husband, annoyed at the loopholes that excused our people’s most wretched sins. “Sounds like customs could use an upgrade.”
Oliver snickered. “You really want more Black Priests skulking around in the shadows? You know they have the gift of death, to kill with their anger.”
“Yeah, that could be bad,” Bianca chimed in. “I’d never dare to ask one for help having a baby, anyway. Lady Ilsa offered me a few more suggestions over the phone for our next round of IVF. She’s going to send up a prayer to my whirlwind, asking it to empower my body.”
“Lady Ilsa?” I raised my eyebrows at Bianca, the name unfamiliar to me. The idea of offering prayers to an element intrigued me. I filed it away for later.
“The forest witch I told you about before. She knows lots of ancient spells our history books don’t mention. Her element’s air, actually, and she’s given me tips on how to control my whirlwind better.”
“I wonder if she knows anything about fire,” I mused, chewing on a bite of mushroom pizza. Maybe I needed to meet this forest witch, myself.
“Her husband’s fire, so she probably knows a thing or two.” Bianca winked a blue-green eye at me and added, “They’re both coming to the Taubenball because they like dancing outside in elemental glory. I can’t wait to witness their mysticism. Elderly couples always create the prettiest displays.”
“We still need to go dress shopping.” I had nearly forgotten about the masquerade ball, set to take place next spring. I hoped Lukas would be free to attend as my date.
“Still annoyed I have to be in Berlin at the beginning of April,” Oliver sighed, laying his fork across his empty plate. “At least one of you needs to bring a camera and get lots of pictures.”
“I’ll bring my Nikon and try to sneak a few shots of people’s elements. But I’ll have to be really discreet so the priests don’t chew me out.” Bianca grinned.
“They shouldn’t be so weird about photo evidence of magic. Outsiders would just assume it’s special effects,” I noted, fully prepared to support my best friend’s undercover photo-taking.
Before I left their apartment, we agreed to meet up the following evening for the Teutonic New Year’s celebration. Set to take place at the traditional meeting place in the forest south of the city, it was the second largest Teutonic event of the year. I planned on cornering every gossipy female I could find to inform them I was no threat to their established order. I hoped to pull my elderly mentor aside as well, to inform her of the awful circumstances behind my birth. If she knew of such atrocities happening in Erlangen or the surrounding area, I would demand that she and Henning put a stop to it at once.
Lukas told me he had family obligations on New Year’s Eve, so we could not attend the celebration together. A let down, but one I could overcome. I could hang out with Bianca instead, and Dennis said he would be there after appearing at a college-related party. I looked forward to adding red flames to the collection of Teutonic fires in the main pit and mingling my magic with that of others.
I rode with Bianca and Oliver to the festival the following evening, ready to mingle among my people with a freedom I had never before experienced. While my father’s revelations had broken apart my notions of family, they also liberated me from the need to marry in order to avoid bondage to a fated mate. Henning and I could continue our platonic friendship established during my visits with his great-grandmother, and I could give him suggestions on how to win his new Lady over romantically after his aged Leitalra entered eternity.
The dirt parking lot at the trailhead to the Teutonic meeting place was jam-packed with cars when we arrived, so Oliver had to search for a spot to parallel park along the street. “Our people never pass up an opportunity to party,” I remarked, holding a jar of cold potato salad on my lap.
“You got that right. Looks like the crowd here might outnumber the one gathered to watch the fireworks downtown.” Oliver found a spot for his Audi about a half kilometer from the trailhead and proceeded to back in.
“What time’s Dennis showing up?” Bianca asked from the passenger seat.
“Not sure. Hopefully he won’t get too drunk to drive safely. I think he’s going to borrow our father’s car.” I eyed the tree line and undergrowth as it drew close to the window at my right side. My element detected magic buzzing in the air even at a fair distance from the glade. The last major event I had attended here was the May festival back in 1994. Seemed like a lifetime ago.
“You sure you want to ride home with a sloshed sophomore?” Bianca asked as we piled out of the car. I carried my jar of salad, while she brought a bowl of rum balls. Oliver draped two blankets over one shoulder and retrieved a six pack of Apfelschorle from the back seat.
“I can drive if he’s sloshed when he gets here.” We struck out for the parking lot, walking alongside the cars lining the forest road.
“You sure you remember how? You’ve biked or ridden the bus ever since you came back here.” Bianca sounded doubtful.
“I’m not helpless. And my ex had a car. I might need to save up to get one myself, once my father finds a job.” Still no luck on that front.
We met a pair of Teutons Oliver knew from work at the trailhead, and fell into polite conversation on our way to the clearing. I sensed the distinctive tickle of an energy shield tracing my body when we reached the final curve, a protective barrier raised to keep outsiders from witnessing our elemental spells in honor of the New Year. Sounds of laughter, chatter, and live music broke upon my ears at the same moment, beckoning me toward our people’s merriment.
Bianca took the sparkling apple juice from her husband when we reached the clearing, requesting that he spread a blanket for us near the main fire pit while she and I deposited our food on one of the tables set up along the southern edge of the glade. Lady Erlanga herself sat behind the one that held a variety of side dishes, her light radiating in a gentle glow from her skin and wavy hair. My fire flared to life, sharpening each of my senses and basking in the collective magic hovering in the atmosphere.
“It’s so good to see you here, Gabi,” my mentor greeted, reaching out to clasp my hands after I set my salad onto the table. Her light met my red fire in a burst of triumphant camaraderie, for our elements shared the same primary.
“I’m looking forward to working magic with everyone tonight. It’s been too long since I’ve been to a celebration like this.” I smiled at her and glanced toward where her Keyholder’s potent blue-fired spirit loitered with his priestly peers—a collection of black-robed figures.
“I know Henning will be thrilled to see you again.” Lady Erlanga offered a knowing smile. “He said you were a breath of fresh air at Frau Felder’s birthday party. Most of the guests there intimidated him, I think.”
“He wasn’t the only one intimidated,” I said, remembering how awkward I felt conversing with Lukas’ wealthy acquaintances. I gave her wrinkled hands a squeeze and let go, then lowered my voice, holding her gaze. “There’s something you need to know about me, something that changes what everyone’s expecting to happen. I wasn’t born in Erlangen. Elvira Scholz isn’t my real mother.”
My mentor’s dark blue eyes widened and she rose to her feet with a groan, beckoning me to follow. We walked a short distance into the forest, away from the women near the food tables. It was probably better not to have eavesdroppers when I informed her of the atrocious circumstances behind my birth.
Lady Erlanga listened intently to my story, allowing me to tell it without interruption. After I finished, I sighed and thrust my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket, still not entirely sure what to think of my father and his wife. Would I have agreed to such a terrible act if my body proved infertile and my in-laws were desperate for an heir? Would I treat an adopted child with the disgust Elvira had always shown to me?
“I have heard of that heinous tradition, but I had believed it eradicated years ago,” my mentor said at length, her forehead creased in pain. “In the late 1800s, my predecessor imprisoned the Old One of her council when she learned he had a slave hidden in his cellar. She stripped him of his title and decreed that if anyone, priest or not, was found perpetuating that crime, they would be imprisoned for life with their element suppressed. I made it clear when I took the helm of this city that I would uphold the previous Leitalra’s edicts, and I have.”
“Thank you so much for taking a stand, Lady Erlanga,” I responded, glad that some Teutons were bold enough to combat injustice. “Have you told Henning about your predecessor’s decree yet?”
“I have, but it would do him good to hear your story, if you wouldn’t mind sharing it with him.”
I saw the value in this, and while we waited for the young Keyholder to join us beneath the trees, I brought up something else that troubled me. “Apparently, not all Teuton priests view females as equals. I don’t know yet which city my real mother was from, or if she lived in a smaller town. But I think we need to figure out a way to make sure no priests are secretly hiding slaves, for breeding or any other reasons.”
“It’s never been easy to get priests to come to a consensus where darker traditions are concerned,” Lady Erlanga said, her light dimming a shade. “Binding Teuton females for the purpose of breeding is something Wuotan condones, part of the price our blood magic entails. The priests here are not taught of this practice, but not all of my colleagues have declared it illegal. Truthfully, that might be a task for my successor to undertake. My influence has faded along with my health since my late husband’s death. I might not be strong enough to lead the necessary charge.”
“I’ll help, whenever you decide what to do. Bianca and Oliver, too.” Henning appeared at my mentor’s side as I spoke, his black hooded cloak contrasting him against his Leitalra’s light. He laid a supportive arm around her waist and gave me his full attention while I related the circumstances of my birth. My fire sensed the horror in his aura as he listened, and he immediately asserted that we must seek a way to uproot Wuotan’s evil from our land.
Both the Lady and her Keyholder agreed to let others know I had not been born in Erlangen, hoping to quiet the rumor mill. But I asked them to keep the circumstances of my birth under wraps, not wanting my father or his wife to face further heat from the community. As criminal as their past choices were, I would not exist otherwise. I also had no wish to see my father imprisoned or blackballed at all Teuton employers. He needed to regain his position as his family’s provider in order to fulfill his sense of duty.
I added several splashes of red to the fire pit when I emerged from the forest, finding Bianca and Oliver seated on one of their blankets. Bianca was chatting with a lady from the chamber orchestra, while Oliver entertained a handful of young boys by tossing sparks into the night sky for them to catch. I touched Bianca’s shoulder and informed her that I was off to fill my plate and sample the available liquors. An urge to let loose among the Teuton community simmered within me, heightened by the magic pulsing in the melody of fiddles and flutes.
I ate my fill of sausages cooked over the fire, along with a scoop of my potato salad, a slice of marble cheesecake, and a handful of Bianca’s rum balls. Added to the glass of Kellerbier I quickly downed, my thoughts found themselves muddled beneath a pleasant haze, the colored fires flickering in the pit awakening a primal wonder within. Bianca warned me to quit with the desserts after my sixth rum ball, cackling as she ate another herself and declared that neither of us would be fit to drive home. Oliver was the designated driver, contenting himself with a mug of steaming cider and one of his bottles of Apfelschorle.
Bianca and I danced in the shallows of the woodland stream with a group of ladies later on, each of us trusting our elements to buoy our feet in defiance against the frigid waters. I backed off after one dance, for the alcohol had begun to impair my fire, a standard result of drunkenness. Instead, I attached myself to a cluster of mothers, grandmothers, and children skipping around the fire pit in a traditional Franconian jig, one that did not call for elemental magic.
At some point during that dance, as I imagined myself truly at peace among a crowd of magic-wielders nearly three hundred strong, I caught sight of two new arrivals standing at the entrance to the clearing. A tall, broad-shouldered young man with a tapered buzz cut, his left elbow bent toward the maiden at his side. She wore her long dark hair in a fashionable braid, her tight jeans emphasizing her curved hips, the fingers of her right hand touching her companion’s upper arm.
Lukas Felder.
With a young woman I had never seen in my life, her wide eyes vibrant with excitement as she gazed around at the gathering. She stood on her tiptoes to speak into Lukas’ left ear, and I saw him laugh, his entire torso shaking with fun.
They moved off toward the food tables while my feet stumbled, unable to keep up with the dance any longer. Confusion swept over me as I watched them halt before the priest pouring rum over the sugar cone above the Feuerzangenbowle, the girl reaching her hand out to ignite yellow flames upon the alcohol. Lukas laughed again and placed a hand against the small of her back. Exactly as he had done to me on several occasions.
Bianca’s comment from a phone conversation months ago arose in my fuzzy memories. Lukas came to the restaurant to meet a girl for dinner. Somebody named Rosemarie. She’s a student at the university.
His current female partner looked young enough to be a student.
Lukas had said he had family obligations tonight. But here he was at the exact same event as me, with an attractive companion who claimed yellow fire and a sizeable butt. I had been his side piece all this time. All of his words of devotion were merely that. Words.
I was too buzzed to piece together the verbal tirade he deserved. Depression rolled over me in an ocean wave, overtaking my anger for the time being. I turned away from the joyful gathering and stumbled into the forest in the general direction of the trail, too distraught to notice if anyone followed.