by Suzi Davis
“It is not an easy path to walk,” Mags spoke quietly, her voice blending with the wind as the image of her began to fade and the gray fog started to break apart in wisps. “But my spirit shall always be here to walk alongside you. Trust in your friends and trust in your heart. You shall lead them now and protect our secrets, along with the sacred magic that is now entrusted to you. I’m proud of you.”
I stared in wonder at the two women before me, an apparition flickering in the wind and a young woman who I had thought I knew but now I felt like I was truly seeing her for the first time. All the pieces fell into place; it had all happened for a reason. Everything that had happened in my life, and in my lifetime two thousand years prior, it had all brought us to this moment. This was bigger than Caoilinn and Seamus, or me and Sebastian, or any one of us. For the first time in thousands of years, the Lost Magic had been truly awoken and a leader had risen strong enough to bring the magic and its practitioners into the modern world.
I glanced up at Sebastian and we shared a look that carried a thousand silent words between us. This moment was bigger than us, bigger than anything we had ever seen or felt. This was history in the making. The world was about to change.
“Don’t go,” Bridgette cried, reaching out to Mags just as she faded away.
“I will always be here,” Mags’ voice whispered upon the wind.
The sun suddenly burst through the stormy clouds overhead, a beam of light falling directly upon Bridgette, making her hair glow like golden fire. She radiated pure power and strength, looking like a young goddess. I clutched Sebastian’s hand tightly as we stared in wonder at the woman Bridgette had transformed into before our eyes. A thousand ancient voices whispered together upon the icy wind.
“Rise, Guardian of the Lost Magic. Rise to your destiny.”
With the wind in her hair and the sun streaming down upon her face, Bridgette turned to face us—and to lead us—into a new era and a future unknown.
Epilogue
The taxi slowly made its way through the city, inching along the bustling streets through the late afternoon traffic. After traveling for so many hours and spending close to twenty-four hours awake together, you’d think we’d both be tired but Sebastian and I were full of excited, restless energy. Adrenaline rushed through my veins every time I looked at him, which was frequently.
I stared at him unabashed while he was looking out the taxi window, smiling slightly to myself. He had changed so much since the first day I had met him. I could still recognize the boy who I’d fallen in love with just a year and a half ago. His black hair was as wild and messy as ever, worn longer now but always clean and soft. His eyes still sparkled when he smiled and hinted at secrets and mischief yet to be revealed. His laughter was contagious, his wit quick and quirky. His smile still deepened by a dimple in his cheek. But there were changes too. He looked older, years older. He could no longer pass for a boy in his late teens: he now appeared to be in his mid-twenties, at the youngest. There was a look about his eyes sometimes, a sadness, a certain wisdom that spoke of many hardships lived through and horrors seen. He was no longer haunted by nightmares but he often muttered in his sleep and tossed and turned. He was still prone to brooding and sometimes had short, dark flashes of temper. He was different than he once had been but the same. He was broken and flawed, just as I was, and I loved him with everything in my heart.
He turned back and saw me watching him. A smile slowly spread across his face, that heart-stopping, stomach-dropping, bone-melting smile. I grinned back at him.
“We should be there soon.” He spoke softly, almost shyly. It was so unexpected, I suddenly felt nervous myself. I had to fight a blush as I answered.
“I can’t wait.”
He smiled back, his gray-blue eyes sparkling as he reached for my hand. He linked his fingers through mine and lifted our clasped hands to his lips, gently kissing just below the small, silver wedding band that I now wore below my engagement ring. His lips brushed my skin as he spoke, his breath tickling the back of my hand.
“I feel like I’m dreaming. And I don’t ever want to wake up. I can hardly believe that you’re finally my wife.”
“I’ll live in this dream forever,” I agreed.
He pulled me into his warm, waiting arms and I closed my eyes as I leant against his chest. The past twenty-four hours blurred together in my mind and seemed to stretch together endlessly. I hadn’t slept yet for fear that this perfect day would come to an end, I never wanted it to. I could hardly believe it had been just yesterday afternoon, when we had exchanged our vows and become husband and wife…
“I can’t believe I let him convince me to walk down the aisle like this; down this aisle,” I complained as I adjusted my dress nervously.
“Stop fidgeting, it makes you look twitchy. And don’t slouch,” my mother added.
“But I am twitchy—and nervous.”
“It’s not too late to change your mind,” my father reminded me in his deep, gruff voice. He looked almost hopeful as he spoke. Whatever agreement or mutual understanding he and Sebastian had come to, I wouldn’t take it so far to say that they had become friends. My father was not thrilled, to say the least, about the prospect of having a new family member to call him “Dad”. Sebastian wouldn’t be welcome to call him anything but a respectful “Mr. Stevenson” or “Sir” anytime soon. But I had hopes for the future.
“I have no doubts about marrying Sebastian, Dad.” I rolled my eyes at him, the notion really was ridiculous. “It’s the ‘let’s get married on a frozen pond’ part that I’m questioning. Really, what the hell was I thinking when I agreed to this?”
“Well, this is all your own doing. I had a beautiful wedding planned for you: a wedding that they’d be talking about in Victoria for years to come. But no, that wasn’t good enough! You had to go and make your own plans, breaking my heart and—”
“Really, Diane, that’s enough,” my father cut in. They glared at each other for several seconds, neither willing to back down. I winced; they’d been doing so well up until now, much better than I’d expected. As always, I felt it was my responsibility to keep the peace.
“No, you’re right, Mother. I shouldn’t be complaining when this is what I chose. I’m just nervous.”
My mother hesitated and then finally unlocked eyes with my father. She looked upon me with a critical frown, reaching to adjust a piece of my hair which had come loose from the complicated knot of twists and braids that were piled upon my head.
“Don’t be nervous. You look beautiful. I’m glad you still wore the gown,” she added with a surprisingly gentle smile.
“Mom, are you crying?” I asked incredulously.
“I’m entitled to a tear or two. My only child is about to get married…” She sniffed, covering her mouth delicately with her hand. “I’ll see you in a few minutes,” she choked out. Then, with the help of Dr. Mackey, her new boyfriend, she awkwardly stepped down onto the slippery surface of the frozen pond and began slowly shuffling her way out to the center of the ice.
My hands started to shake; not from the cold, since I was draped in enough layers of expensive, ivory fabric that I couldn’t possibly be cold, even with my bare arms. It was nerves and anticipation that caused me to tremble all over. It was almost time.
I fidgeted with my dress again, pulling up at the simple, straight neckline that fell across my chest and readjusting the satin bow wrapped high across my waist and gathered to one side. It was all unnecessary. Cassandra Battacenia had fitted and adjusted my dress to my body herself. It fit perfectly, hugging my curves at waist and hip and then flowing out from my just above my knee in a cloud of delicately embroidered lace, chiffon and silk that that seemed to float above the ground. The dress cascaded down behind me in a simple yet stunning train that would slide across the ice in my wake. Which I would be walking across any minute now, I realized.
“Your mother was right, you do look absolutely stunning, dear,” my father complimented m
e brusquely with tears in his eyes.
“Dad… I…”
“I know. I love you too, sweetheart,” he interrupted. He planted a quick kiss on my forehead, taking me by surprise. He loudly cleared his throat. “It looks like they’re ready to start. Shall we?” He offered me his arm.
I opened my mouth to respond but couldn’t find any words, I could barely find enough air to breathe. My father smiled understandingly and with firm, steady steps he guided me down onto the ice at the edge of the pond. I breathed a faint sigh of relief at the sturdy feel of it beneath our feet; it had felt sturdy last time too, I foolishly reminded myself.
I tried to focus on just breathing in and out as I waited for the signal to begin. And then I heard it.
The sounds of guitar strings being plucked echoed out over the ice. The notes were precise and crisp, hanging poignantly in the air and sending chills of pleasure down my spine. The music called to me with a magic of its own. A flush crept into my cheeks and excitement made my heart beat faster. I smiled, my soul soothed. I was ready.
Holding tightly onto my father’s arm, I began to walk across the ice towards the sound of the beautiful, enticing music. It was late in the afternoon but the sun was still bright and unexpectedly warm, despite the winter’s chill that hung in the air. It was an absolutely pristine and bright winter’s day. Frost clung in perfect crystals to all the branches and bushes surrounding the pond. The ice sparkled in a beautiful, dazzling way, the day too perfect to believe with the golden sun and the bright blue sky above. I was filled with hope and wonder as we approached the old stone bridge that arched over the center of the pond.
A small group waited for us directly below the bridge, its underbelly lit by the reflection of the sparkling sun off the ice to reveal the faded but breathtaking mural Sebastian had created long ago, on the underside of the bridge. It was as awe-inspiring as ever to stand before it now. I was quickly distracted by the others who stood before me.
My mother was off to one side, looking absolutely stunning in a long, dark blue gown and faux fur coat, diamonds sparkling at her ears and neck. She clung to Dr. Mackey’s arm, who smiled at me warmly and even offered my father a nod of respect. Beside my mother stood Bridgette, my Maid of Honor, who had bravely volunteered to stand between my mother and my father’s new wife, Dahlia. Bridgette looked absolutely breathtaking. Her long, dark hair was pulled back from her face in a neat, braided knot, similar to my own and she wore a simple black dress, accompanied with a warm and stylish, short, black coat. Nothing overly fancy or special, but anything on her drew every eye around. She couldn’t help it; it was part of her natural charisma and her magic that seemed to draw everyone in. She stood confidently, her head held high and a warm smile brightening her beautiful face. Tears of joy sparkled in her eyes. Dahlia stood beside her, plump and spunky with a ready smile and a short, red dress that was probably inappropriate for an outdoor winter wedding but made me grin anyway.
The Jensons were also there. Mr. Jenson had gone to the trouble of becoming a certified Justice of the Peace so that he could perform our wedding ceremony himself. He wore a fine, dark suit with a bright, royal blue tie. Mrs. Jenson stood back slightly, looking unexpectedly eye-catching in a matching royal blue dress with a lowered neckline and a beautiful sapphire necklace at her throat. Tears were already spilling down her cheeks—I had to quickly look away.
And then there was Clarke, who stood with Tanya, her belly starting to round enough that it was recognizable through her stunning, dark red dress. They stood just to Mrs. Jensons’ right, both of them looking flawless. Clarke grinned at me, his eyes lingering just a little too long while Tanya frowned and elbowed him in the ribs. She flashed me a quick, apologetic smile which I readily returned. Somewhere along the line, in all that we had been through in the past few months, we had all become friends. I never thought I’d be able to tolerate Tanya’s company, let alone occasionally seek it out. And Sebastian had been so sure Clarke would never forgive him but he was surprisingly willing to accept the truth—or the closest version to it which we could allow him to hear—and to forgive. People change and life is never what you expect it to be. The world works in mysterious and wonderful ways.
And then there was Sebastian.
He stood at the center of the small, half-circle, wearing a simple yet superbly cut, dark gray suit. His shirt was ivory, to match my gown, his tie a steely shade of gray. He was clean-shaven, with his dark hair in familiar messy, black spikes. My heart skipped a beat as I laid eyes upon him, and then resumed in double-time.
He played his old guitar, his fingers gently plucking the strings and forming the complicated shapes of the chords without his eyes ever glancing down. He never looked away from me for a second. The look of wonder, love and adoration upon his face when he saw me… I knew I’d never forget it.
He played the last note as my father and I came to a stop before him. Sebastian grinned as he twisted his guitar around upon its strap and slung it over his back instead of handing it off to Clarke. I laughed delightedly to see that my groom was going to marry me with a guitar slung across his back; my father frowned.
The ceremony went by in a blur. Prayers and words and vows, tears and ice and our hearts beating in unison until finally our lips joined in a kiss, sealing our words and our lives together, forever. I was certain that I had never been happier in my life, in my existence. Had anyone?
“Mrs. Caldwood, have you fallen asleep?” Sebastian whispered in my ear, lowering his head to mine. I smiled sleepily, lulled by the hum of the taxi’s engine and the comforting warmth of Sebastian’s arms.
“I could never sleep—I don’t want this day to end. I was just daydreaming.”
“If you’re tired, we can go to the hotel now so you can rest,” Sebastian offered, immediately concerned. “We can always come back tomorrow.”
“No, I’m not tired,” I assured him. “Besides—look! We’re here.”
Our driver looked puzzled as he pulled into the parking lot. He glanced around, his eyes searching the large, empty lot, and the abandoned trail that led between the tall, swaying trees.
“I’ve never seen it so quiet! An’ on a beautiful evening like t’night, you’d think there’d be more folks out. Ah well, enjoy havin’ the Ring to yourselves.”
“We will,” I answered distractedly. I could already feel the magic in the air, prickling over my skin and putting my hairs on end. Excitement flashed through me, flushing my cheeks. Last time we had come to The Giant’s Ring, I had felt so frightened, overwhelmed and full of despair and even then I had still somehow managed to forget it all enough to get caught up in the ancient magic of the place. But now, with my heart and soul ecstatic already from this morning’s wedding and my spirits soaring high, the ancient magic of The Giant’s Ring raced like adrenaline through my veins. I had never felt more alive.
Sebastian paid our driver and he quickly drove off, leaving us alone in the empty parking lot with just the wind whistling in our ears. Sebastian gave me his most heart-stopping smile, his eyes sparkling brightly.
“Can you feel it?”
I nodded, my own eyes wide.
“It’s so much more intense than before. My hands are shaking.”
“It’s different,” Sebastian agreed excitedly. “It’s never felt like this here, ever. The magic has changed somehow. It doesn’t feel that different from ours anymore. I feel like I could almost use it, harness it somehow.”
“It’s different, we’re different. I can feel it pulling me forward, to the center.”
Sebastian took my trembling hand in his.
“Let’s go,” he whispered.
My heart beat quicker with every step that we took closer to The Ring. As soon as we had landed in Ireland, we had both felt it calling to us. It was the first place we had wanted to come before we even began our honeymoon. We knew there was a reason, an ancient secret that perhaps this sacred place was finally ready to share.
The sun was just g
oing down as we came out of the trees and the trail met the pathway that led around the circumference of The Ring, along its rolling bank. The sky was on fire along the horizon, burning up the clouds in a blaze of blood red, gold and hues of soft peach and blushing pink. The shadows stretched long before us, the boulders at The Ring’s center glowing before the sunset’s fiery blaze.
We hurried forward together, jogging down the side of the bank and striding hand in hand towards The Ring’s center. The strange magic of the place pulled us forward, our lips rendered still. This moment was beyond words. This magic was stronger than us both.
We paused together, before the ancient tomb. The sun dipped lower on the horizon.
“It’s coming from the stones,” Sebastian murmured. The energy that filled the air, that vibrated and swelled all around us was radiating outwards from the smooth, five thousand-year-old stones. “What should we do?”
I reached out, as if to touch the weathered surface of the boulder before me but Sebastian immediately stopped me.
“Be careful,” he warned.
“It’s alright,” I reassured him, feeling certain and sure of myself. “Trust me.”
He slowly nodded, his eyes steady on mine as I reached out and touched the strangely warm stone. My breath caught in my throat as my fingertips lightly pressed against the surface of the large capstone. A powerful wave of magic rippled outwards through the air and throughout The Ring, causing us both to stumble backwards and the air to rush from our lungs.
Time stood still.
“What’s happening?” Sebastian looked around in bewilderment. “How is this possible?”
I followed his gaze and took in all the astonishing details around us, impossible as they might seem. The sun had paused in its descent on the horizon, clearly frozen in time. The gentle breeze that only seconds before had been rustling my hair had abruptly stopped, a leaf caught in its path hung motionless in the air a few feet above the ground, several others hung in the air around us as if from invisible strings. The silhouette of a bird, paused in mid-flight above The Ring’s bank, was just visible against the golden sky. The world was silent, the Earth was still. Nothing moved except us.