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“Because, Mrs. Weber”—he addressed my Aunt Ellen using her married name, my father’s name—“he died at the hands of an anchor. A connection, a type of open wound, has been created. These creatures will draw those toxins into themselves, keep the wound from turning gangrenous. Keep the poison from infecting the line. Now, if he had died at the hands of someone other than an anchor, well, then yes, we could . . .” He let his sentence die, held his hands out, palms up, and shrugged.
He’s lying. The knowledge came to me. I turned my head involuntarily to find the source of the words, but couldn’t pinpoint it. “Yes, I did kill him.” I pulled away from Ellen. “But I know you’re lying. This horrid show you want to put on. It’s unnecessary.”
“Well, perhaps I am not speaking the literal truth, but metaphorically I am being completely honest. A situation I’m sure you can appreciate,” he said, his bland face pinching in on itself as a twisted smile rose on his lips. He knew I hadn’t laid a finger on Teague. “This ‘horrid show’ you speak of is indeed very necessary. Thanks to your mother—” He shook his head. “No, thanks to you”—he pointed at me—“we anchors must provide pageantry such as this to let the witches under us . . . under the line,” he corrected himself, “know that we are still in charge. That we are still in control of the line. That we are still acting in unison.”
“I sense very little unity here,” Iris said, “and we all know your control over the line is at best tenuous. This precious passion play of yours is for your own benefit. You need it to maintain the illusion of being in control, to convince everyone else to have faith in you.”
“I’m not saying otherwise, Mrs. Flynn.” He held up his hands and forced an innocent smile on his face. “I’m sorry, Ms. Taylor. I understand that unlike your sister you have cast off your husband’s name.” He said this as if Ellen’s failure to do so betrayed a disloyalty to the line, if not an absolute endorsement of Erik’s attempt to end the line. I nearly told him what I thought of his tone, but he carried quickly on. “All I ask is that you consider this: If we lose the confidence of the families, we might lose control of the line altogether. If we lose control of the line, it may very well come crashing down around us. Should that happen, I doubt any of us would survive the return of our old masters. It could quite literally be the end of the world for both witches and humankind.”
He sighed deeply. “Listen, I know this all feels very personal. Like everyone is out to get you, but that isn’t the truth. We as anchors have one simple goal: to protect the line. Many are frightened by what they perceive as your reckless behavior. Even your own cousin turned against you because he believed he was acting in the line’s best interest.”
“Teague turned against me because he was jealous and greedy. Not for any other reason.”
Beige nodded. “That may very well be
, but there are others, and it may surprise you to learn I am not among them, who feel he was justified in his efforts to contain you. It is in your own best interest Mr. Ryan should be made an example of. We must demonstrate that his attack against you was an attack against all of us, regardless of his motivation or the perceived righteousness of his cause.”
“So it’s true then,” I said addressing the other anchors. “You were supporting Teague. You did clear the way for him to make use of Gudrun’s magic.”
Beige shook his head. “Oh, no. Not all of us, and certainly not I personally, but one of our little family did.” He turned back toward the others. “Isn’t that right, Ayako?”
She flushed red and took a step back stammering. “It seemed a peaceable solution. You would not have been harmed.”
Nope. We would never be friends. “No, my child and I would have just been stolen from my husband and family and sent to a dimension where I could die from old age before they sat down to dinner.”
“The time differential is not that great. And you were not to be alone, you were all . . .” Her words trailed off as she realized she had given away much more than she had intended.
Oliver stomped forward. “Well, I will be damned.” He turned to face us. “Do you hear that? She was going to ship us all out. Get rid of us pesky Taylors once and for all.”
“No, it wasn’t like that. I wanted you all to be together.” I could hear the buzzing of the other anchors as they communicated telepathically with one another. They were blocking their words, but I felt a world of condemnation falling on Ayako. “I am sorry,” she squeaked.
“No,” Beige responded. “We are sorry.” He shook his head and sighed. “Ayako Izanagi, I bind you. May the power reject you. May it not claim you as its own.”
Fridtjof stepped forward. “Ayako Izanagi, I bind you. May the power reject you. May it not claim you as its own.” Ayako’s avatar blinked in and out like a flashing Christmas tree bulb. When the avatar had finally resolved itself, the stocky Russian woman whose name failed me began to add her own addition to the binding.
“Stop,” I called out. “Stop it. You are hurting her.”
Both Beige and Fridtjof looked up at me with shock written on their faces. “But she tried to harm you,” Fridtjof said.
I knew he hadn’t spoken in English, that his words had been Swedish, but still I understood their meaning. I hoped the reverse would hold true. “If you bind her, it will wipe her mind clean. She will live the rest of her life like a vegetable.”
“Of course. That is the point,” Fridtjof replied.
“Binding her is worse than killing her outright.”
“Killing her could endanger the line,” Beige said. “I don’t think you fully understand how we anchors had to scramble when your Ginny was murdered.”
I turned to my family. “Do something. We can’t just stand here and watch this happen.”
Ellen looked at me. “I love you so much. I love your dear, kind heart. But this woman”—she motioned toward Ayako with a careless gesture—“she conspired against you. I’m afraid I don’t have your depth of compassion.”
I turned from her to Oliver. He lowered his head and looked away from me. I reached out and took his hand. “I’m sorry,” he said without looking at me, “but I agree with Ellen.”
My eyes locked with Iris’s. That she didn’t want to cause any further trouble with the anchors was written all over her face. She began to turn away, but then stopped herself. She drew a deep breath, and her face relaxed. “We no longer live in the Dark Ages. I’m sure we can find some rational alternative,” she said, looking away from me toward Beige. Her face lit up with inspiration. “Since Ayako’s such good friends with Gudrun, send her to live with her.”
“I am touched.” Beige looked at me and put his hand over his heart. “Really touched that you are pleading on your attacker’s behalf, but the punishment for her actions was long ago prescribed.”
“Really? Gudrun was responsible for the death of how many millions of innocents, and still she got off pretty much scot-free.”
