Summoning the Night (Arcadia Bell #2)(43)

He paused dramatically, arching a brow, as if reading the tagline for a movie featuring a nefarious conspiracy theory.

“That’s . . . interesting, but I think my halo is related to magical ability,” I said, “and not some long-lost Æthyric race.”

“Have you met other magicians with halos?”

“No,” I admitted.

“You know,” he said, “many ancient cultures didn’t believe in a distinction between demons and gods. They saw them as a higher level of beings. About twenty years ago, I read an essay theorizing that the origin of magick stemmed from godlike beings called Sekhmets, who taught their skills to a select group of ancient Egyptian priestesses.”

“Sekhmet is an early Egyptian war goddess,” I corrected.

“Or”—he leaned low over the desk, eyes dancing with intrigue—“was she merely named Sekhmet after another race of beings? A race who shared with humans their specialized knack for harnessing Heka, to prepare them for a prophesied future war between the planes?”

He slowly nodded his head, as if he was certain that he’d just blew my mind. He hadn’t. I’d already heard every crazy crackpot esoteric theory out there. Most of the people in my order went a step further, proclaiming that magicians were gods, or at least descended from them. A King Kong–size ego was necessary for at least two positions of power in this country: presidential candidates and upper-echelon officers in any magical organization.

I shrugged my shoulders high. “I doubt it’s something we’ll ever know, but I didn’t mean to get us sidetracked,” I said, generously, since I wasn’t the one who’d gotten us on this tangent. “I’m sure you’re busy, so let’s talk about Jupe.”

Dr. Spendlove grinned, then enthusiastically slapped his palm on the edge of his desk. “Yes, certainly, my dear.” He pulled the computer keyboard toward him and typed as he talked. “So, the last time I saw Jupiter, he was three years old—but little Jupiter isn’t so little anymore, is he? I ran a few standard tests on him . . . coaxed some truth out of him . . . and it appears his knack is manifesting a year or so early. Not unheard of. About ten percent of Earthbound children manifest before the age of fifteen. On the other hand, a quarter of all Earthbounds never even manifest a talent at all—did you know that?”

I certainly didn’t know the percentage was that high. Lon didn’t either, from the way he shook his head.

“These figures are based on my own studies, mind you, combined with figures from a few of my colleagues.” Spendlove typed, squinting at the screen in front of him. “However, what’s more interesting about Jupiter isn’t the timing but rather the knack itself. Now, you are an empath, Lon. And according to Jupiter, his mother was a beguiler.” He paused and looked up. “I do remember her. Was she really that lovely, or was it all ‘allure’?”

Lon grunted.

Spendlove didn’t seem to notice. “Well, as you know, Earthbound offspring almost always manifest one or the other parent’s knack. But there are rare cases in which this doesn’t occur. In those, the anomalous knack can usually be traced further back on the family tree. Let me just look at your records. . . .”

“My parents were both empaths, though not as strong as me,” Lon volunteered.

“Yes, I’m well aware of that,” he said with gentle amusement. “Your father and I were friends, you’ll remember. I was looking up your in-laws. The Giovanni family, from Oregon . . .” he read off the screen.

“On Yvonne’s side, her father had no ability. Sister doesn’t either.”

“Yvonne’s mother?”

The woman who talked Lon into leaving her own daughter. Ballsy. And kind of awesome that she was still actively involved in Lon and Jupe’s lives after all these years.

“Her mother is clairaudient.”

“Oh? That’s not common. What kind of range?”

“About ten feet or so, but she can hear through walls.”

Wow. I was certainly glad Jupe hadn’t inherited that knack. According to Jupe, Gramma Giovanni was the bees’ knees and could do no wrong—same as her other daughter, Jupe’s aunt Adella. Jupe talked to them every Sunday and saw them several times a year, apparently. Multiple photos of them were scattered around Lon’s house.

“Hmm. Interesting, but that doesn’t give us Jupe’s knack, does it? What about great-grandparents?”

“I’ll ask Yvonne’s mom.”

“Yes, good idea. Let me know when you find out so I can update Jupe’s file.” He swung the computer screen around to show us a color-coded diagram. “I’ve divided up all known knacks into seven main families: sense, transform, move, repair, destroy, illusion, and miscellaneous.”

I saw abilities I knew, and many more that I’d never heard of or could even begin to guess. All told, he’d documented more than fifty verifiable knacks. Most of those had varying levels of skill, including Jupe’s—persuasion.

“I’ve only run across persuasion twice in my practice, and neither manifestation was quite like Jupe’s. One patient was only able to persuade other males, and another was able to influence people only temporarily. Based on Jupe’s answers to my questions, his influence appears to be lasting. However, to determine exactly how lasting, I’d suggest that you do some supervised experiments with him at home. If you aren’t comfortable with that, he can undergo some tests here, of course. But it’s less stressful in an environment where he’s relaxed and comfortable. It’s important that children coming into their knacks are encouraged to use them in a positive, healthy manner, without shame or pressure.”