One is Come (Five in Circle)

by C. H. MacLean

  Cawnal laughed, a low and rolling chuckle. With a smooth motion he was off the desk and moved around, still laughing, to playfully swat the bald man's right shoulder. It sounded like slapping a horse. He was apparently unaware of the growing tension his laughter was causing in the large man's body.

  Cawnal let his laughter end as he moved back to his desk, directly in front of the man. “You must be tired of wearing that disguise. Let me remove it.” He started to move one of his hands as the bald man appeared to be starting to speak. Cawnal interrupted and kept his hand moving in a small circle. “Yes, this will make it more difficult for you to speak, but don’t worry.” He brought his other hand up to make another small circle, then brought them together with a clap that covered what he muttered at the same time. He leaned back against his desk to watch, and said, “I have heard enough. Besides, that lisp is brutally annoying.”

  With the clap, the bald man seemed to shimmer, and then his features began to melt away. His eyes grew, and fell back against his head. His nose flattened and fell into his face, which was shooting out. His shoulders drooped and grew feathers. In a moment, he was fully transformed, back into his true appearance as a baskilon.

  He remained on one knee, but his upper lip pulled back from his large fangs and his eyes flashed with anger. His tail slowly curled under him. His forked tongue flicked out the barest distance beyond his lips as the muscles in his arms twitched.

  “Yes,” Cawnal said, standing up, staring without a shred of fear into the monster’s eyes. “I have heard enough. Your mission was a failure because your clutch-brother was incompetent,” he said, suddenly leaning forward to sneer in the face of the baskilon. He slid smoothly two steps to the left, dropping his left hand on the monster's right shoulder. “Not his fault, of course,” he said. The monster turned his head, careful to avoid scratching his fangs on his chest, to look at the hand on his shoulder. “Baskilon are all meat-head imbeciles.”

  The monster hissed loudly, and his powerful tail flexed, propelling his great body upward and to his right. Cawnal was expecting this, and quickly swung his left hand across to grab the monster’s rising snout. At the same time, as the beast was springing, he flexed his right arm and brought his right elbow smashing down on the beast's snout.

  The baskilon's head snapped down onto its rising chest. Its right fang scratched across its chest, doing little damage. Its left fang, however, aligned by Cawnal’s hand, drove deep into its chest. The creature fell forward, its initial lunge suddenly stopped, ending in a crumpled heap.

  Cawnal looked down. “I am unimpressed with your abilities,” he smiled thinly. “You’re fired.”

  He kicked the body as he walked around it to pull out the chair behind his desk. “I knew her plan wouldn't work, never know why the king listens to that blond troublemaker,” he muttered, not noticing the shadow on the chair slide off and under the desk. He sat and flicked the computer monitor on.

  He hit a few keys, and light flickered across his face. His face showed surprise, anger, disappointment. “So you are not tough, just getting help,” he muttered. Then he laughed. “This is not Rogue Central Command, but Grand Central Station!”

  He got up, walked over to the couch and sat down. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he said. He waited for a moment. “Stephan, you fool, don’t you know this office is under video surveillance? When I went to delete the video of this meat sack, guess what I saw?” His voice growled. “Both of you get out here now.”

  The shadow still on the other desk chair swirled, expanded and filled into the form of Gheneve. Stephan crawled out from under Cawnal’s desk a moment later. He came around, started to say something, but was stopped by the reality of the dead baskilon.

  Cawnal looked at them. “I never understood why they made them with such long fangs. More of a hindrance than a help, I would say.” Cawnal snickered at his own joke. Neither of the other two even smiled.

  “I know I authorized it, and it was at the king’s command, but yet another of your plans failed, eh, Stephan?”

  Stephan started to protest, but Cawnal talked over him. “Oh, I know that there are other traps amongst their belongings, but they are alerted, and it is very unlikely that they will be taking anything in the least suspicious with them, now is it?” He paused, but Stephan had visibly deflated at this point. Cawnal nodded, satisfied. “No, Rightad is nothing if not willing to make sacrifices to protect the end goal. We taught him that one,” he chuckled again.

  Abruptly he snarled. “But how did they defeat your stupid monster? It just had to paralyze the girl, grab her and leave. I don’t know if I believe it was magic,” he said, gesturing at the monster’s body, “it doesn’t take magic to bring down a snake-face if you know what you are doing. But what if it was magic that defeated him! It must be impossible—I was there when they Swore. Or is it possible the boy could have done it?”

  It wasn't a question, and Stephan knew better than to answer, or even flinch. He was past trying to defend himself, past even thinking of reminding Cawnal the baskilon was as much Cawnal’s idea as his. All he wondered was if he was going to end up dead on the floor too.

  “Well,” Cawnal continued, “doesn’t matter. His lying tongue—it’s forked, even!—can tell us nothing. It really doesn’t matter anyway. The king doesn't care how we drive the boy from his family and bring him in. No, it doesn’t affect the plan. In fact, it speeds it up a touch, a good thing.” His lips smiled, a slash of red. “Now, there is just the matter of how to handle the failures here.”

  Gheneve jumped in. “No need to say anything to anyone, I think. Of course, for me, it makes no sense to breathe a word. But it seems that to point out the good parts of your plan would risk exposing the failures to your superiors,” she said. “Who knows how one of them might react?” She glanced from Stephan, to the body of the baskilon, to Cawnal. “The only problem I see right now is the large, messy one lying on your carpet. In fact, as long as Stephan had a way to incinerate that mess, there would be no real evidence of anything, would there?” She paused, sizing up Cawnal expertly. “I have an energy dampening bubble up here for now, but the intensity of the energy required to get rid of the body by magic might leak out and would surely leave a strong residue after I left. A portal could be traced back. Either one reported to the local Conclave authority would cause problems for the king, I think? Yes, I can see how he wouldn't admit to manipulating mus and most of the Conclave for decades. I would guess he would just suddenly discover you have been working for the Rogues, well, the real Rogues, betraying him the whole time? I hear the Conclave does nasty things to Rogues.” She paused, giving Cawnal a chance to imagine himself on the other side of the punishment. “With magic out, incineration is the only way, isn’t it? With all the recent developments, time and effort are so valuable. It really would be punishment enough to have to get rid of this failure.” She waved casually at the body on the floor.

  Cawnal thought for a moment, pretending to weigh his options. Stephan held his breath while Gheneve appeared calm.

  “Yes, well, I must be feeling generous today,” Cawnal said at last. “Stephan, if you can clean up your mess, I think that would suffice.” He nodded once. Stephan took it as a reminder to start breathing again. Gheneve whipped her phone out and sent a quick text. Cawnal looked pointedly at Stephan. “Lucky for you to have such resourceful connections.”

  “Now,” he continued, gesturing to the door, “get hopping. After that, you will receive instructions. I am going to find out where the Rightads are headed.” He got up, went to his desk, and made a show of wiping off the chair.

  Stephan looked anxiously at Gheneve, who took him aside and whispered to him for a moment. They both went over and worked to roll the heavy body into the large rug. When finished, Stephan tried to stuff the end of the tail into the rug, but it kept poking out. Gheneve waved him off. Stephan got up and used magic to remove the bit of blood on the cement. There was a knock at the door. Gheneve went qui
ckly to the door and opened it. Two large, thick-browed men stood there, holding a rolled-up rug. Gheneve whispered briefly. They nodded, dropped the one rug down and hefted the other wordlessly. Gheneve got down, unrolling the new rug, waving Stephan to leave with the two men when he tried to help. He looked at Cawnal once before following on the two men’s heels.

  Cawnal looked up to watch Stephan shut the door with a shake of his head. “He used to have such promise, it’s a shame.”

  “Perhaps he had his promise beaten out of him,” Gheneve dared to say, rising from her knees.

  “He will either grow stronger or die,” Cawnal replied, staring directly into her face.

  She stared back for a moment, then looked back to the rug. She made to leave, throwing over her shoulder, “Be sure to erase the video of the body leaving, won’t you?”

  Cawnal laughed, nodding. “Survivors don’t miss details, do we?” The last thing she heard before sliding out the door was Cawnal saying, “Where will you run?” She wasn't sure if he was talking to her or the computer, but knew the answer anyway. There was nowhere to run.

  Chapter 25

  Delicious

  Oakren hopped over the tree roots, thanking them for not tripping him. He felt a little silly, but it was fun to pretend the trees could feel his appreciation. He slowed and stopped, putting his hand against one of the larger trees. Rough texture, just a bit warmer than he would expect. After the other day, when he was hanging on for dear life, he knew that they were alive; not just alive like plants, but aware, alive like a person. He had always liked trees, but now, knowing they were alive, they became like people, like friends. He slowed and stopped, thinking. Yes, Haylwen did something and, just for a moment, I could sense the tree's thoughts, I knew that poor tree was trying to help me, despite my clumsiness breaking one of its limbs.

  He stood there, remembering. Yes, it broke, for sure it broke, but Haylwen fixed it. Not just Haylwen, but somehow, she and the tree managed to do something to heal that break. He could feel the tree's pain, and the relief when it was healed. If he worked at it, maybe he would eventually be able to hear the trees all the time. Shaking his head, he promised he would never climb a tree without asking permission first.

  He started walking again. But more than that, he vowed, he would find out how Haylwen did that healing thing, and get her to teach him. She sure was cute, too. Ok, maybe she was a little young, but she was old enough to flirt with.

  Lost in his thoughts, he didn't even realize he had reached the edge of the forest. He finished walking to where the forest stopped and the trail along the side of the road ran. It has been forever since I walked here, he thought. Wonder what brought me out this way? He looked at the shadows, realizing how much time had passed. Might as well take the path back to the driveway and go home that way, I want to be sure not to be late for martial arts practice. Cadarn said he was a black belt, so maybe he would be good enough to provide some sort of challenge. Oakren trotted along the path, heading for the driveway back to the farmhouse.

  So focused on hurrying along the path, Oakren didn’t even see the girl until he was almost past her. She was on the edge of the driveway leading to the farm, staring across the road. She must have heard him approach, because she spun to face him.

  She said something, but turned back to stare across the road too quickly for Oakren to figure out what she said. He only caught a brief glimpse of her face, but was immediately interested. She was pretty, even if she was a bit too skinny. He walked to stand beside her, looking where she was looking.

  Before he could think of anything else, he saw what she was staring at. Across the road was a mountain lion, mostly hidden by the grass growing along the side of the road. He had heard they were in this area, but had never seen one on the farm. Feabee had mentioned they were dangerous, but never seemed concerned about them coming onto the property.

  He tugged at her sleeve, and started to back away slowly. Sure, it was interesting, but in all he heard, they were best left alone.

  Oakren backed several paces away, but the girl didn’t move. He stopped. Should he do something? Suddenly the girl spun and started running right at him, mouth open wide, screaming something at him. Framed behind her was the mountain lion, leaping at her in a pounce. The girl ran past Oakren as the lion flew at her.

  With no time to do anything but fall down, Oakren acted reflexively, avoiding the lion’s front paws and rolling onto his back, kicking with his legs up as he fell backward. He caught the lion in the chest with his feet, kicking it over him and into the trees. He finished the roll and was back on his feet immediately. The lion crashed into a tree, and took a moment to get to its feet. Oakren had the crazy thought that it must be injured, or the clumsiest mountain lion there ever was. Eventually, it stood in the middle of the drive, its teeth bared and thrashing its tail, ready to pounce again.

  Oakren backed away slowly. The girl was pulling on his sleeve, trying to get him to run. He knew he couldn’t run or the lion would jump on his back, and besides, the only safety he knew was behind the lion. He wanted to be safe so strongly, for him and the girl next to him. He felt the safety of the trees, could almost feel it reaching for him. He put his hands out, reaching in return. He knew they were alive now, could they help him?

  An odd feeling came over him, a powerful calmness that almost had him feel like he wasn't even in his body anymore. An image of what he was going to do flashed through his mind, but with the sensation of a memory. A crazy, impossible memory. The lion crouched and jumped at him again. Moving faster than he had ever done, Oakren ran forward, into the lion's jump, but twisting to the side, just out of reach. He turned as the lion went past him, and grabbed at the lion, somehow getting a hold of its tail. He planted his feet, felt himself rooted and powerful in an instant. He pulled, and the lion jerked around, swinging by its tail. It felt as light as a stuffed animal. He used the momentum of the lion like a martial arts move, but just to swing it. At the end of its long tail, the lion swung around, over his head in one complete circle before Oakren let go.

  The lion flew in a long arch over the road, tail and all four paws flailing. Oakren couldn’t see what happened on the other side of the road, but the lion didn’t come back.

  He settled back into his body and then stood there for a moment, weak and trembling. He must be in shock. Who runs at a mountain lion? He didn’t know what had just happened, but the trees… they must have done something to give him that kind of strength. How did they know what was going to happen?

  Before he could think much past that, the girl jumped into his arms, giving him an enormous hug. The girl! He had completely forgotten.

  He disentangled himself from her, and stepped far enough away to be able to see her face. She was definitely pretty, with striking eyes, a light brown that had a definite orange tint. He had never seen anyone with orange eyes before.

  She was talking to him, thanking him for rescuing her, telling him how amazing it was, how amazing he was.

  Oakren, still in shock, just shrugged. It was unbelievable, but he couldn't even tell her that. He wondered if she knew sign language. What would be the odds?

  She asked him his name, and he had no choice. “Oakren,” he finger spelled, then gave her his name sign. “Oh, and I’m deaf,” he signed. Then, just for fun, he signed, “I don’t suppose you know sign language?”

  The girl grinned, a stunning smile. “Of course,” she signed back. “Who doesn’t? My mother encouraged me to learn sign, but I never knew it would actually come in this handy.”

  Oakren laughed, and wondered what to say. He suddenly remembered his friends, and that he was late for martial arts practice. He considered skipping, but then had a better idea. “I have to go, would you like to come with me to meet my friends?”

  She smiled. “I can’t today, but how about tomorrow?”

  Oakren nodded. “Sure, we practice kung fu almost every morning at about this time. Just follow the driveway in, take the first path on
the left. It will lead straight to the little clearing where we practice.”

  “Thank you very much for the invitation,” she signed. “I’ll be there.”

  She looked away, over her shoulder, then stepped quickly close and kissed him. Oakren’s eyes opened wide. He stared at her, and she looked back. She leaned in and kissed him again, more slowly this time. Oakren felt himself tingle all over, and like he was going to suffocate. He broke off, and stepped back. His first kiss, it felt strange, so different than he thought it would.

  She looked up at him with an odd smile. “Delicious,” she said. “See you tomorrow!” With one more smile, she turned and walked away.

  Oakren shook his head and caught her sleeve. “What’s your name?” he signed.

  “Sheela,” she finger-spelled. Then she smiled, turned smoothly and bounded away. Orange eyes, Oakren thought, and she even moves like a cat. He watched her until she disappeared down the road, then turned and started walking down the driveway back to the house. After a few steps, he started running. Doakren will never believe this!

  ***

  Sheela scampered down the road, then, making sure no one was around, crossed over to the other side and took a narrow path into the woods. She wasn’t walking long before she heard a noise behind her. Spinning, she saw the mountain lion standing there, a fierce look on its face. Sheela’s face fell, but in a second she broke out laughing.

  “You should have heard the noises coming out of you!” she gasped.

  The mountain lion stood on its back legs and started changing shape. Its yellowish fur melted everywhere except for its head, where it grew long and lighter, its paws turning into hands and feet. The tail was the last to go.