The Acolyte: Magicians of the Beyond

by Victoria Murata

  Danica smiled at the use of the old-fashioned word, but she knew what he meant. “Did you build this labyrinth?”

  “Me? No, it’s been here longer than anyone can remember. Even Phil says it’s always been here.”

  “Why do you think it was made to begin with?”

  Shaw tilted his head and one eye looked at her from below his hat brim. “I don’t know. No one knows. History says labyrinths were traps for evil spirits. They’ve been used for ritual dances in some cultures. Others claim it’s a path to Spirit. Take your pick.”

  “How do I walk it? Am I going to get lost?” She remembered the labyrinth in the story of the famed Minotaur of Ancient Greece.

  “It’s pretty straight-forward. There’s only one way in and you just follow the path to the center where you’ll turn around and follow it back out again.”

  “Sounds simple enough. Thanks, Shaw.”

  “My pleasure. Let me know what you think when you come out.” Then he turned and walked back to the flower bed he had been tending.

  Danica faced the labyrinth and took a deep breath. For some unknown reason she felt a vague sense of unease. Lately her thoughts had been occupied with Lymonia and her parents—her real parents. She had been having dreams about wizards and wicked Counts, murders, frantic escapes from evil that pursued her through dark corridors.

  Maybe this walk through the labyrinth will calm my mind.

  She took a deep breath and stepped across the entrance. Instantly the air seemed different. Denser. A breeze that she hadn’t noticed outside lifted her hair. She walked forward a few steps between tall hedges until the path turned to the left. As she followed it, she began to relax. There’s no way to step off this path, so I’m not going to get lost.

  The hedges were trimmed so that the path was comfortably wide. Its surface was leveled with course paving sand that made it easy to navigate without having to watch her step. As she progressed more deeply in, she noticed subtle changes. The light which had been partially obscured at the entrance seemed to be fading.

  It’s too early for the sun to be going down. It can’t be past 2:00. Maybe it’s because these hedges are overgrown here. Shaw has some work to do!

  Soon the hedges were arching over the path creating a tunnel of green. As she walked further, the path narrowed and the growth on either side became thicker, deepening the dark. At one point she stumbled and fell to the ground. The footing had changed—it wasn’t the smoothly manicured walkway on which she had begun her walk. It was dirt pitted in places with rocks and roots. When she stood up, she felt claustrophobic, realizing how much narrower the path had become. She came to an intersection where one path led right, and one left. Shaw said it was a straight shot to the center. Which way do I go? I wish I had brought a flashlight.

  Choosing the left path, she continued. After a few more intersections and more random choices, she began to make out faint sounds, like an echo of voices. Maybe there are others in here having one of Shaw’s trysts! This thought made her feel more at ease and she increased her pace. Shaw is right—there’s no stepping off the path. Hopefully, it will lead me right to the center. The voices were getting louder, although Danica couldn’t make out what they were saying.

  The breeze had persisted, and where it came from was a mystery. Now it brought a cool musty smell, like a damp cellar. She rounded a corner and stopped. The path ahead opened to a wide center, and in the middle was a crumbling stone altar of sorts. Danica stood rooted to the spot because in the faint light that seemed to come from nowhere, there were shadows moving and taking shape, and the voices she had heard were becoming more distinct. She began to make out what they were saying, and she realized they were speaking in the ancient Lymonian language that she had been studying. She squinted her eyes trying to bring into focus the misty shapes, and soon they came more clearly into form. It was the young woman in the white robe—the one from the movie of her birth who was supposed to be her real mother—and a tall regal man who wore a crown on his head. The woman had a wreath of blue flowers in her hair. This woman, her mother, was taller than her but her build and her coloring was the same. Danica felt like she was looking into a mirror. The two were speaking in low urgent tones.

  “My dream was only too clear, Wylim. I won’t survive childbirth, and you and our family will be murdered. But the child will live,” the woman said tearfully.

  The man drew her into his arms. “Perhaps it’s just a dream. I refuse to believe you and I will die! I won’t!”

  She pulled away from him, clutching his forearms. “This child will leave here and live in another world but will return later, Wylim. I’ve seen it in the Prophecy Stone.”

  The man put his hand on his forehead and bowed his head. “Do we dare try to change this course, Astrid? Can we work together and bring our powers to bear on our destiny?” He looked at her with anguished eyes. “Is it possible to alter what you saw will happen?”

  “No, Wylim! Our powers are not for that purpose.” She was crying openly, and Danica felt tears running down her own cheeks.

  “But surely it’s for the good of all,” he said weakly.

  “There is something I can do, although it won’t change what will happen to us.”

  “What is it?”

  “I’ve drawn a map to the hidden temple.” She reached a hand into her pocket and drew out a piece of parchment. “As High Priestess only I know the location of this temple. The Prophecy Stone is there, and when our child comes and finds the map, it will show the way to the temple and the stone.”

  “It’s dangerous to have a map that could fall into the wrong hands.”

  “I will safeguard it, Wylim. My Magic will keep it hidden. No one will be able to find it except the girl.”

  “Girl?”

  The woman put a hand on her belly, just beginning to round with the fetus inside. “It’s a girl child, Wylim, and she will be more powerful than I am. She is our future. Our destiny.”

  “She will be the most powerful High Priestess,” he pronounced.

  “No. That is not her destiny. But she will find my successor. She is the morning star, and she will point the way. The stone will show her who the next High Priestess is.”

  Wylim knelt in front of Astrid and put his arms around her, resting his head on her belly. His tears flowed freely. “I will never meet this girl child that you carry. I will never hold her in my arms and look upon her face.” She stroked his hair gently.

  He looked up. “How can you be sure she will come?”

  “It has been prophesied. I have seen it in the stone. You and I will not survive, but our child will thrive. Our people will wait for her coming.”

  He got to his feet and embraced Astrid, and they clung to each other as the vision slowly faded.

  Danica’s hands pressed against her mouth and her tears flowed. She saw the air fold into itself where the vision had been, and after a few moments she stumbled to the altar. A lonely emptiness had placed its heavy hands on her, and she doubled over under the pressure, holding herself tightly. A high-pitched keening wail escaped her, and she fell to her knees.

  The Lymonians are waiting for me? This is too much! I can’t do this. I’m afraid. She felt her body shudder. I can’t go there. I can’t be the one all those people are waiting for! Phil will have to send someone else. Wilder should go, or Neith or Liam.

  In her mind’s eye she could see her parents, so young, their lives cut short. What will the Lymonians do if I don’t go? Will their world disappear, and with it all memory of my parents? Must I be the one?

  As she agonized over the choice she must make, the darkness slowly brightened, and the breeze quit. The canopy opened revealing the bright sky overhead. Danica stood up and swiped at her eyes. On the top of the altar were a few stones and trinkets others had placed there. She fingered them absently, thinking about what she had seen, or thought she had seen, and she began to doubt herself. Was it a dream? How can it be real? Am I losing it? Maybe the pres
sure is becoming too much.

  Her eyes fell on something at the base of the altar, lighted by a ray of sun. It was a blue flower, the same as the flowers Astrid had been wearing in her hair. Danica picked it up and examined it wonderingly. The petals were soft between her fingers. She looked around but couldn’t see any flowers. Did I bring it in on my shoes from the garden?

  The way out seemed shorter than the way in and there were no intersections. The path was smooth and brighter than it had been, so she was soon back at the beginning, and there was Shaw, bent over his flowers. She walked up to him and wordlessly held out the blue flower.

  “Huh. I’ve never seen this variety before. Where did it come from?” He handed it back to her.

  Danica looked at him oddly and walked away. Now there was no doubt in her mind that she had witnessed a conversation between her parents. How it had happened was a mystery, but she knew without a doubt what the purpose of this mission of hers would be.

  Later …

  “And you said they talked about a Prophecy Stone?” Phil and Danica were quietly conversing in an alcove of the library after dinner.

  “Yes. Astrid was clear about that. She said that as High Priestess, she was the only one who knew the location of the hidden temple where the Prophecy Stone is kept. I remember reading about it in the lost civilizations book.” Danica took a sip from her steaming mug of hot chocolate. “The book talked about the High Priestess transferring her power to her successor in an elaborate ritual, and part of the ritual was to take her to the hidden temple. At one point the location of this temple was lost to the Lymonians for 100 years when the High Priestess died without a successor.”

  “How did they ever find it?”

  “A young woman had a vision. She found the temple and the Prophecy Stone told her that she was the new High Priestess. She lived to be one-hundred and six, and the realm flourished while she ministered.”

  Danica looked down at her hands. She was twisting the charm bracelet Jimmu had given her around her wrist. “My parents were devoted to each other. Astrid was so strong to see her future in her dreams and to not try to change it. Wylim seemed to think she had the power to do that.” She paused and then said wistfully, “I wish I had known them.”

  After a moment Phil said, “She had great power. It’s a testament to Astrid’s wisdom to know that she accepted her fate without trying to alter it and save herself and Wylim.”

  Danica’s eyes welled up. “But if she had, my life would be different.”

  “We can’t live thinking about the ‘what-ifs’ and ‘if-onlys’, Danica. We have to move forward from where we are and with what we’re given.” Phil looked steadily at her.

  “What were you given, Phil? Where are you from?”

  “I had an ordinary life, Danica, although you would think it was anything but ordinary. Suffice it to say that my gifts were not extraordinary at one point in my life, but they are here, and I choose to use them for the greater good. The place I am from no longer exists.” Her face bore a pensive expression until she deftly changed the subject. “I had hoped that your training would continue for another few months, but all signs are pointing to moving the time for your mission forward. Your dreams and visions are indicating an urgency that can’t be ignored.”

  “I’m ready, Phil.”

  “Are you sure, Danica?” Phil’s gaze was direct. “You can back out, you know.”

  Danica returned her look evenly. “I’m ready. I admit I’ve been afraid. I’ve been hoping you would send someone else, but I know I’m the only one who can fulfill the prophecy, and I’m ready for this.”

  Phil sighed deeply. “Our biggest concern with you has been your fear and uncertainty, but you seem to have risen above that. You came out of the obstacle course with no ill effects. You’ve mastered your fear of the water. You’re an accomplished firewalker. Liam says you’ll make an excellent pilot. And when your parachute didn’t open, you trusted your partner to safely land you both.”

  “I’ll admit that was scary, but luckily Ben was there to help me out.” She laughed. “I really didn’t have a choice.”

  “Putting your trust in someone else is a huge part of being a Covert. No one works alone. The Coverts are a team. You have been an excellent acolyte, and when you complete this mission you will be our fifth Covert. You and I and the others will finish the planning, and it will happen soon.” She became reflective. “Jimmu and Emma will go with you. I don’t think it’s wise to send anyone else. You would be more noticeable in a larger group. Count Gurdyn is ruthless and cunning, and we can never discount Dumone.”

  “So that’s why Jimmu and Emma have been in many of the same classes I’m taking.”

  “Yes. Emma’s specialized skills will be invaluable. Remember, she doesn’t have the powers you and Jimmu have. You two will be responsible for her safety.”

  Danica nodded. “My vision in the labyrinth showed me that I need to find my mother’s map to the hidden temple and the Prophecy Stone. It will tell me who the rightful successor will be. Is there another part of the mission?”

  Phil looked up sharply. “Oh yes, Danica. I wish your mission was that simple. Count Gurdyn will eventually discover you are in Lymonia and he will seek to destroy you. His spies are rife in the kingdom. It will take all your skills to outmaneuver him, and in the end, he must be eliminated. Do you understand?”

  Eliminated!

  “And his son Rone, and the council. I think when they are gone, whatever support he has left will dissolve. But make no mistake. Your life, Jimmu’s and Emma’s, will be in constant danger.”

  Danica swallowed. Her martial arts and weaponry training was fun, and she was accomplished at all the skills she needed.

  But can I actually kill someone?

  “Yes, you can, and you must,” Phil said, reading her mind. “Remember, Count Gurdyn murdered your family and he would have killed you without a second thought. Next week you will visit Master Stefan. He will give you the proper perspective on what it means to be an assassin, for that’s what your training has been about, Danica, and that’s the primary purpose of this mission. I’m sorry to throw you to the wolves so early. The other Coverts had easier first missions. Unfortunately, we don’t have time to break you in gently.”

  “Who is Master Stefan?”

  “He’s an assassin of the first order. He’s not a Covert, but his powers are formidable.”

  “I’ve never met him. Does he live in the Beyond?”

  “Yes, but he chooses to live alone, away from others. He doesn’t like people. He likes his garden.” Phil stood up. “You look tired, Danica. Get some sleep and we’ll talk again tomorrow.”

  Danica got up to leave. “Phil, how will Count Gurdyn know I’m in Lymonia? Does he have special powers?”

  Phil’s face darkened. Her pupils grew until her eyes were black. “He has no powers but his wizard, Dumone, does.”

  “Dumone’s a wizard? A Magician? How much power does he have?”

  He and I have followed each other through centuries and across worlds. He’s a destroyer, Danica, and I’ve cleaned up more of his messes than I care to count. You will need to be extremely careful and never challenge him directly. You can’t win!”

  Danica caught her breath at the passion in Phil’s voice. “Is he one of the Others?”

  “Yes. He’s extremely dangerous.”

  “Phil …did Dumone have anything to do with why your world doesn’t exist any longer?”

  Phil’s face became a rigid mask, her eyes dark sinkholes. “He had everything to do with it.”

  Danica paused, then said, “I wish you could come with me.”

  Phil looked at her then, and her face softened, noting Danica’s distress. “It’s better if I stay here in the Beyond. Dumone and I should never come together. There would be massive destruction and devastation. That’s why I’ve brought you here, Danica. That’s why all the Coverts are here. They—and you—are my ordnance. My warriors. My hope fo
r a better future. This mission is going to be difficult, but not impossible. I have complete faith in you.”

  Twenty-Two

  A week later …

  After lunch, Danica made her way to Master Stefan’s cottage. She was only told that he was old and eccentric and mistrustful of people. He refused to live in the Mystic Hotel, preferring instead his humble lodgings in the forest by the lake. Since his home was a few miles away, Danica decided to ride Star. She had made a habit of riding the mare in the mornings before her classes, and she and the horse had bonded. Now they were taking a narrow path through increasingly dense forest, but the path looked to be well-traveled, and Star was sure-footed. Danica was enjoying the morning and the connection she felt with her horse.

  Star had been the first animal she had used her mind-reading Magic with, and since then she had practiced on other horses and animals. She found it was easy to read the minds of animals. Their thoughts were more like impressions and their minds were uncluttered. With practice, she found she could influence them to do what she suggested.

  As she rode the trail, she listened to bird song and watched playful squirrels leap from branch to branch overhead, and when a doe stepped on to the path and then bounded away, Danica smiled. She reminisced about her previous life and marveled at how different her new life was.

  What if this is just a dream and I’ll wake up in the morning in my old narrow bed?

  But even as she was thinking it, she knew it wasn’t true. This was no dream. This was real.

  At that moment, the forest opened into a clearing, and there, on the shore of the lake, sat a squat stone cottage. Smoke drifted from the chimney that stuck out from a thatched roof. An arched door was ajar and two dark ivy-covered windows regarded her.

  It looks like something out of a fairy tale. It wouldn’t surprise me to see Goldilocks coming out of the door.

  Instead of Goldilocks, a short portly man came to the doorway and watched her ride up. His graying hair was long and unruly and blended in with a short beard. He wore a faded blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and brown corduroy pants stuffed into scuffed brown boots. Bright red suspenders gripped the waistband of his pants which barely stretched over his large belly.