Guardian of the Gate Read Free Page B

staircase. “Come, there’s Byron.”
    We make our way across the room, snippets of conversation drifting to me on the pipe smoke and incense, thick in the air. When we finally reach Byron, five apples spin through the air before him in perfect time as he stands with his eyes closed, arms at his sides.
    “Good evening, Lia and Sonia.” Byron does not open his eyes as he greets us, the apples continuing their circular dance. I have long since stopped wondering how he knows we stand before him though his eyes are often tightly closed while he performs some parlor trick or another.
    “Good evening, Byron. Getting quite good, I see.” I nod toward the apples, though surely he cannot see the gesture.
    “Yes, well, it amuses children and, of course, the ladies.” He opens his eyes, looking right at Sonia as the fruits drop one by one into his hands. He presents one of the crimson apples to her with a flourish.
    I turn to Sonia. “Why don’t you stay and ask Byron to divulge the secrets of his… talent while I fetch us some punch?” It is clear from the gleam in Sonia’s eye that she enjoys Byron’s company — and clear from the look in his that the feeling is mutual.
    Sonia smiles shyly. “Are you certain you don’t want me to accompany you?”
    “Quite. I’ll be right back.” I am already making my way to the crystal punch bowl shimmering at the other end of the room.
    I pass the piano, a tune tinkling with no one at its keys, and try to gauge the player from among those milling about the room. An iridescent wave of energy connects a young woman sitting on the sofa to the ivory keys across the room, marking her as the gifted pianist. I smile to no one in particular, pleased with my observation. The Society offers me endless opportunities to refine my gifts.
    When I reach the punch bowl, I turn back to look at Sonia and Byron. Just as I expected, they are deep in conversation. Returning too quickly with the punch would make me no friend at all.
    Leaving the parlor, I follow the sound of voices coming from a darkened room down the hall. The door is only half closed, and when I peer through its opening, I see a group congregated around a circular table. Jennie Munn is preparing to lead the attendees through a sitting. I cannot help but be pleased, for Jennie has been schooled by Sonia in the strengthening of the powers with which she was born.
    Jennie instructs those seated at the table to close their eyes, and I pull the door farther shut as I pass down the hall, heading for the small courtyard at the rear of the building. I reach for the door, wondering if I will need my cloak, when I notice my reflection in the glass on the wall. I am not one given to vanity. That was always Alice’s place. Indeed, I always thought her more beautiful than I, despite the fact that we are identical twins. But now, seeing my face reflected in the glass, I almost do not recognize myself.
    The face I once bemoaned as too round, too soft, has sprouted elegant cheekbones. My green eyes, inherited from my mother and always my best feature, have developed a force and intensity not present before, as if all the suffering and triumph and confidence gained in these past months has been cast, shimmering like a jewel, into their depths. Even my hair, before only brown, gleams with health and radiance. My pleasure is a secret rush as I step into the chill night behind the Society’s brownstone.
    The courtyard is empty, as I knew it would be. It is my favorite escape when we come here to dine. I am still unused to the heavy incense preferred by the more ardent sorceresses andspiritualists, and I breathe deeply of the cold night air. My head clears as the oxygen cuts a path through my body. I make my way along the stone walkway that winds around a garden tended by Elspeth herself. I have never been very good with planting and gardening, but I recognize some of the herbs and shrubs about which Elspeth has tried so mightily to educate