Blood Lines

TWENTY-SIX

"I cannot fix it."

Until Grandmother spoke those words, Lily hadn't realized how much part of her clung to the idea that Grandmother could, indeed, fix anything. That she would know what to do for Rule.

Childish. If her fear had redoubled after that failed effort, it was her own fault. She'd hidden her hope from herself and was paying the price. Add guilt to that for the way Grandmother had risked herself, and what little she'd been able to eat rested unhappily in her middle.

"By all means," Rule said, "speak."

Grandmother was amused by Rule's sharp tone, but she didn't stop to fence with him. "I wish your word that what I say does not go beyond this room, save for whatever you choose to tell your father. Your pledge will bind the lupi here."

Rule considered that a moment, then nodded.

Grandmother looked at Lily. "You will feel it your duty to report to your FBI. I ask only that you speak of this to no one except Ruben Brooks and those on this—what is the silly name? Task force. Yes. You may tell them." She looked at Cynna. "I do not know you. I do not know what moves you, what your word means to you."

Cynna stared back at her. "I'm not the one who tried to ensor-cell someone."

Grandmother snorted. "I did not try. In that much, I succeeded. Do I have your word you won't repeat this except to your FBI people?"

"Yeah. Sure."

If Grandmother objected to the casual phrasing, she didn't say so. She looked them all over one more time, then began. "I tell you a tale I believe is true. It was told to me by one who knows, and it begins in times so ancient the suns have since changed. I will skip most of that beginning," she added dryly. "Or we would be here a very long time. The part that matters today concerns those you call Old Ones."

"Like the goddess?" Lily asked. "The one we don't name?"

"Her, and others. Many others. We call them gods, angels, devils—they are none of these, and all. Their true nature is beyond us. Many of them… call them guardians, though what they guard is hard to say. Reality, perhaps. They are those who remained when the last Great Cycle ended and the universe died and was reborn."

Rule made a small noise. "Tell me you aren't talking about the big bang."

"Scientists name it that." She shrugged. "I tell you only that some from the last Cycle lingered into this one, though whether they stayed from duty or love, avarice or failure, karma or choice, I do not say. Perhaps only part of them stayed behind. Our words do not stretch to encompass such as they. Some of them took as their purpose the balance between the realms."

She paused to sip her tea and made a face. "Cold tea," she announced, "is an abomination. Perhaps three thousand years ago, those who tend the balance saw it was in danger. Others disagreed. There was much conflict, much devastation."

"The Great War," Rule said slowly. "You're speaking of the Great War."

She nodded once. "It touched our realm but was fought in many. Your Lady played a part, as did your people. In the end, those concerned with balance won. They… moved things."

Lily licked dry lips. "Uh… the realms?"

"Yes. Such a feat is difficult, even for them. But enough of them chose to work together to do this much: our Earth was closed to most of the other realms. Magic here dwindled—slowly at first, so that for centuries little seemed different. Then faster. And they—even they—were forbidden to enter here or to meddle in our affairs."

"That's why the Great Bitch can't cross?" Cullen said sharply. "Because she's forbidden by others of Her kind?"

Li Lei shrugged again. "Forbidden is a human word. I do not know what laws or bindings act on such as they."

"The task force," Lily said suddenly. "Fagin, the guy in charge, believes that magic began dwindling about four hundred years ago, not three thousand."

Grandmother looked at her, "His guess is not so bad. By then, the remaining magic was not enough to… hold things together. That is when the dragons left, and the last of the elves, and many others of the Blood, and their leaving made a hole. Magic poured out faster than ever. And the Book of All Magic—"

"Was lost," Cullen broke in. "Or was it?"

Grandmother fixed him with a severe stare. "You," she announced, "are going to be a problem." She folded her hands on the table. "The shift in the realms, the closing of ours from the others, was not meant to be forever. The story I know calls the moment when the realms return to their previous state the Turning. Two nights ago, I felt it happen."

No one spoke for a long moment. It was Cynna who broke the silence. "Excuse me, but are we supposed to just, you know, believe that? We'd already figured out that the realms are shifting, but the rest of this… are you claiming that, of all the people on the planet, you felt this Turning and knew what it was?"

For whatever reason, that made Grandmother smile, as if at a good joke. "Yes."

"What you're saying," Lily said, leaning forward, "is that magic isn't going to return to the level of four hundred years ago. It will go back to what it was three thousand years ago."

"Yes. Though not right away, I think."

"And the Codex Arcanum?" Cullen demanded. "The Book of All Magic. You started to say something about it."

She looked at him and sighed. "Yes. According to legend… theory… a good guess," she decided. "We will call it a good guess, made by the one who told me this tale. He believes that what you call the Codex was taken away and hidden when the magic failed. He believes it will return at the Turning, or be returned—or even that the Turning is a sign it has already returned. As do others," she finished grimly. "Including She we do not name. That is what She wants: the Codex Arcanum. The Book of All Magic."

"Don't tell them," Cullen said.

Lily stared at him. His eyes were glazed, his face tight with emotion. "What?"

"Don't tell the FBI about the Codex. I'm not sure I trust me with the knowledge that it's back—that maybe it's back. I for damned sure don't trust anyone else."

"I have to," she said. "They have to know."

His eyes flashed with such anger she almost reached for her weapon. He shook his head sharply, thrust his chair back, stood, and strode for the door.

Lily pushed to her feet. "Cullen—"

Rule laid a hand on her arm. "Let him go. He'll come back when he's ready."