I grabbed his free hand and nodded. He perched on one of the chair's padded arms, which creaked slightly under his weight.

"'Try not to be too hard on yourself as you journey into the future. Keep your wits about you, and trust your instincts. It's not much in the way of advice, but it's all that a mother can give. We can scarcely bear leaving you, but the only alternative is to risk losing you forever. Forgive us. If we have wronged you, it was because we loved you so much. Mom.'"

The room was silent, and even the house was holding its breath. A sound of loss started somewhere deep within me just before a tear fell from my eye. It swelled to the size of a softball and hit the floor with a splash. My legs felt liquid.

"Here it comes," Sarah warned.

Matthew dropped the page from the letter and swept me out of the chair and through the front door. He set me on the driveway, and my toes gripped the soil. The witchwater released harmlessly into the ground while my tears continued to flow. After a few moments, Matthew's hands slid around my waist from behind. His body shielded me from the rest of the world, and I relaxed against his chest.

"Let it all go," he murmured, his lips against my ear.

The witchwater subsided, leaving behind an aching sense of loss that would never go away completely.

"I wish they were here," I cried. "My mother and father would know what to do."

"I know you miss them. But they didn't know what to do-not really. Like all parents, they were just doing their best from moment to moment."

"My mother saw you, and what the Congregation might do. She was a great seer."

"And so will you be, one day. Until then we're going to have to manage without knowing what the future holds. But there are two of us. You don't have to do it by yourself."

We went back inside, where Sarah and Em were still scrutinizing the page from the ma.n.u.script. I announced that more tea and a fresh pot of coffee were in order, and Matthew came with me into the kitchen, though his eyes lingered on the brightly colored image.

The kitchen looked like a war zone, as usual. Every surface was covered with dishes. While the kettle came to the boil and the coffee brewed, I rolled up my sleeves to do the dishes.

Matthew's phone buzzed in his pocket. He was ignoring it, intent on putting more logs into the already overloaded fireplace.

"You should get that," I said, squirting dish liquid into the sink.

He pulled out his phone. His face revealed that this was not a call he wanted to take. "Oui?" "Oui?"

It must be Ysabeau. Something had gone wrong, someone wasn't where he or she was supposed to be-it was impossible for me to follow the particulars given their rapid exchange, but Matthew's annoyance was clear. He barked out a few orders and disconnected the phone.

"Is Ysabeau all right?" I swished my fingers through the warm water, hoping there was no new crisis.

Matthew's hands pushed my shoulders gently away from my ears, kneading the tight muscles. "She's fine. This had nothing to do with Ysabeau. It was Alain. He was doing some business for the family and ran into an unexpected situation."

"Business?" I picked up the sponge and started washing. "For the Knights of Lazarus?"

"Yes," he said shortly.

"Who is Alain?" I set the clean plate in the drainer.

"He began as my father's squire. Philippe couldn't manage without him, in war or in peace, so Marthe made him a vampire. He knows every aspect of the brotherhood's business. When my father died, Alain transferred his loyalty from Philippe to me. He called to warn me that Marcus wasn't pleased to receive my message."

I turned to meet his eyes. "Was it the same message you gave to Baldwin at La Guardia?"

He nodded.

"I'm nothing but trouble to your family."

"This isn't a de Clermont family matter anymore, Diana. The Knights of Lazarus protect those who cannot protect themselves. Marcus knew that when he accepted a place among them."

Matthew's phone buzzed again.

"And that will be Marcus," he said grimly.

"Go talk to him in private." I tilted my chin toward the door. Matthew kissed my cheek before pushing the green b.u.t.ton on his phone and heading into the backyard.

"h.e.l.lo, Marcus," he said warily, shutting the door behind him.

I continued moving the soapy water over the dishes, the repet.i.tive motion soothing.

"Where's Matthew?" Sarah and Em were standing in the doorway, holding hands.

"Outside, talking to England," I said, nodding again in the direction of the back door.

Sarah got another clean mug out of the cabinet-the fourth she'd used that morning, by my count-and filled it with fresh coffee. Emily picked up the newspaper. Still, their eyes tingled with curiosity. The back door opened and closed. I braced for the worst.

"How is Marcus?"

"He and Miriam are on their way to New York. They have something to discuss with you." Matthew's face looked like a thundercloud.

"Me? What is it?"

"He wouldn't tell me."

"Marcus didn't want you to be on your own with only witches to keep you company." I smiled at him, and some of the tension left his face.

"They'll be here by nightfall and will check in to the inn we pa.s.sed on our way through town. I'll go by and see them tonight. Whatever they need to tell you can wait until tomorrow." Matthew's worried eyes darted to Sarah and Em.

I turned to the sink again. "Call him back, Matthew. They should come straight here."

"They won't want to disturb anyone," he said smoothly. Matthew didn't want to upset Sarah and the rest of the Bishops by bringing two more vampires into the house. But my mother would never have let Marcus travel so far only to stay in a hotel.

Marcus was Matthew's son. He was my son.

My fingers p.r.i.c.kled, and the cup I was washing slipped from my grasp. It bobbed in the water for a few moments, then sank.

"No son of mine is checking in to a hotel. He belongs in the Bishop house, with his family, and Miriam shouldn't be alone. They're both staying here, and that's final," I said firmly.

"Son?" said Sarah faintly.

"Marcus is Matthew's son, which makes him my son, too. That makes him a Bishop, and this house belongs to him as much as it does to you, or me, or Em." I turned to face them, grabbing the sleeves of my shirt tightly with my wet hands, which were shaking.

My grandmother drifted down the hallway to see what the fuss was about.

"Did you hear me, Grandma?" I called.

I believe we all heard you, Diana, she said in her rustly voice.

"Good. No acting up. And that goes for every Bishop in this house-living and dead."

The house opened its front and back doors in a premature gesture of welcome, sending a gust of chilly air through the downstairs rooms.

"Where will they sleep?" Sarah grumbled.

"They don't sleep, Sarah. They're vampires." The p.r.i.c.kling in my fingers increased.

"Diana," Matthew said, "please step away from the sink. The electricity, mon coeur. mon coeur."

I gripped my sleeves tighter. The edges of my fingers were bright blue.

"We get the message," Sarah said hastily, eyeing my hands. "We've already got one vampire in the house."

"I'll get their rooms ready," Emily said, with a smile that looked genuine. "I'm glad we'll have a chance to meet your son, Matthew."

Matthew, who had been leaning against an ancient wooden cupboard, pulled himself upright and walked slowly toward me. "All right," he said, drawing me from the sink and tucking my head under his chin. "You've made your point. I'll call Marcus and let him know they're welcome here."

"Don't tell Marcus I called him my son. He may not want a stepmother."

"You two will have to sort that out," Matthew said, trying to suppress his amus.e.m.e.nt.

"What's so funny?" I tipped my face up to look at him.

"With all that's happened this morning, the one thing you're worried about is whether Marcus wants a stepmother. You confound me." Matthew shook his head. "Are all witches this surprising, Sarah, or is it just Bishops?"

Sarah considered her answer. "Just Bishops."

I peeked around Matthew's shoulder to give her a grateful smile.

My aunts were surrounded by a mob of ghosts, all of whom were solemnly nodding in agreement.

Chapter 35.

After the dishes were done, Matthew and I gathered up my mother's letter, the mysterious note, and the page from Ashmole 782 and carried them into the dining room. We spread the papers out on the room's vast, well-worn table. These days it was seldom used, since it made no sense for two people to sit at the end of a piece of furniture designed to easily seat twelve. My aunts joined us, steaming mugs of coffee in their hands.

Sarah and Matthew crouched over the page from the alchemical ma.n.u.script.

"Why is it so heavy?" Sarah picked the page up and weighed it carefully.

"I don't feel any special weightiness," Matthew confessed, taking it from her hands, "but there's something odd about the way it smells."

Sarah gave it a long sniff. "No, it just smells old."

"It's more than that. I know what old smells like," he said sardonically.

Em and I, on the other hand, were more interested in the enigmatic note.

"What do you think it means?" I asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

"I'm not sure." Em hesitated. "Blood usually signifies family, war, or death. But what about absence? Does it mean this page is absent from the book? Or did it warn your parents that they wouldn't be present as you grew up?"

"Look at the last line. Did my parents discover something in Africa?"

"Or were you you the discovery of witches?" Em suggested gently. the discovery of witches?" Em suggested gently.

"The last line must be about Diana's discovery of Ashmole 782," Matthew chimed in, looking up from the chemical wedding.

"You believe that everything is about me and that ma.n.u.script," I grumbled. "The note mentions the subject of your All Souls essay-fear and desire. Don't you think that's strange?"

"No stranger than the fact that the white queen in this picture is wearing my crest." Matthew brought the ill.u.s.tration over to me.

"She's the embodiment of quicksilver-the principle of volatility in alchemy," I said.

"Quicksilver?" Matthew looked amused. "A metallic perpetual-motion machine?"

"You could say that." I smiled, too, thinking of the ball of energy I'd given him.

"What about the red king?"

"He's stable and grounded." I frowned. "But he's also supposed to be the sun, and he's not usually depicted wearing black and red. Usually he's just red."

"So maybe the king isn't me and the queen isn't you." He touched the white queen's face delicately with his fingertip.

"Perhaps," I said slowly, remembering a pa.s.sage from the Matthew's Aurora Aurora ma.n.u.script. ma.n.u.script. "'Attend to me, all people, and listen to me, all who inhabit the world: my beloved, who is red, has called to me. He sought, and found me. I am the flower of the field, a lily growing in the valley. I am the mother of true love, and of fear, and of understanding, and blessed hope.'" "'Attend to me, all people, and listen to me, all who inhabit the world: my beloved, who is red, has called to me. He sought, and found me. I am the flower of the field, a lily growing in the valley. I am the mother of true love, and of fear, and of understanding, and blessed hope.'"

"What is that?" Matthew touched my face now. "It sounds biblical, but the words aren't quite right."

"It's one of the pa.s.sages on the chemical wedding from the Aurora Consurgens Aurora Consurgens ." Our eyes locked, held. When the air became heavy, I changed the subject. "What did my father mean when he said we'd have to travel far to figure out the picture's significance?" ." Our eyes locked, held. When the air became heavy, I changed the subject. "What did my father mean when he said we'd have to travel far to figure out the picture's significance?"

"The stamp came from Israel. Maybe Stephen meant we would have to return there."

"There are a lot of alchemical ma.n.u.scripts in Jerusalem at the Hebrew University. Most of them belonged to Isaac Newton." Given Matthew's history with the place, not to mention the Knights of Lazarus, it was not a city I was eager to visit.

"Israel didn't count as 'traveling far' for your father," said Sarah, sitting opposite. Em walked around the table and joined her.

"What did did qualify?" Matthew picked up my mother's letter and scanned the last page for further clues. qualify?" Matthew picked up my mother's letter and scanned the last page for further clues.

"The Australian outback. Wyoming. Mali. Those were his favorite places to timewalk."

The word cut through me with the same intensity as "spellbound" had only a few days before. I knew that some witches could move between past, present, and future, but I'd never thought to ask whether anyone in my own family had the ability. It was rare-almost as rare as witchfire.