“This is amazing!” Avraham stated. The jovial man smiled broadly, thrilled with the existence of the map. His large, brown eyes examined the paper intently, and he pushed his floppy brown hair from his eyes as he tried to figure out the map’s true location.
His fingers grazed the landmarks, and yet he couldn’t place the location. “We’ve had eyes on the Fraternitatem for fifty years and never got this close to them. How did you find this?” he asked.
“My dad had a run-in with them about eight years ago while chasing Chintamani Stones that had found their way into the black market. From what I can tell, he was summoned to the Cave of Ages and drew the map from memory, hiding it in our Book of Shadows. I just happened upon it in the course of this investigation,” Annie explained.
Avraham’s eyes grew wide. “He was there? With them?”
“Yeah. He met them in a market in Morocco. I’m not sure why he was at the cave. But he was. What he didn’t give us was the starting point—the exact location for the cave. Without the names or the coordinates, we weren’t sure where to start.”
“Yes, of course. I think I recognize these landmarks. It looks like it’s the southwest corner of Israel. But you’re right: this map isn’t to scale, and we wouldn’t know where to begin,” said Avraham.
“But you know now, don’t you?” inquired Steve. It was his turn to review the map. A smile crossed his lips. “I agree; it looks like the southwest portion of the state.”
“Yeah. Several pots of coffee and a night in the library. We finally found the key,” Lial said.
He had worked with Mrs. Cuttlebrink in the library, figuring out the true location of the Cave of Ages. And in the early morning hours, they had found the clue they needed. When he called at 5 a.m., Annie had been wide awake, anxiously waiting.
Taking control of the map, Lial pointed to a small circle, hidden within a landmark. It contained a five-pointed star at the center. “Here. This is the key right here.”
While they all took a turn to note the symbol, Lial opened an atlas to a page reserved by a sticky note. The map was expertly folded, so thin that it appeared to be a single sheet of paper.
Magic.
He unfolded the many layers, revealing a large map of Israel with another sticky note pointing to something. “Okay. Here is the symbol. We knew we were correct, but the problem is the maps are drawn in different scales. And then this.” He shrunk the map that Jason Pearce had drawn until it matched the scale of the map in the book. He overlaid it on top of the larger map, lining up the two symbols. “And here is the Cave of Ages,” he said with a smile.
*
Wizard Guard training was difficult and incorporated years of book study, daily physical training, and more than one survival training camping trip in the heat, cold, and rain. The training was designed that way for a reason, on the off chance that the wizard guards might hike through a southern desert in the Middle East at four o’clock in the morning during a particularly warm spring day.
Knowing the Fraternitatem would have means to detect their presence, they teleported three miles from their destination. And though they were in a low valley, below the Fraternitatem’s location high in the mountains, they were far enough away to avoid detection.
They trekked through the sand without the help of lights, making the walk difficult at best. To avoid detection, they refrained from speaking. The only sound that followed them through the desert was the sound of the boots scratching through the rough sand.
At the base of the mountain trail, they stopped to gather themselves. Annie took a long drag of water, grabbing a little to eat. Beside her, Lial anxiously glanced at the map. The low light glowing from his crystal was barely discernible. The crystal shook in his hand.
“You okay?” Annie asked.
“It’s one thing to find the cave, another thing to lead us to our deaths,” he hissed.
“We have the best bargaining chip. You’re doing fine,” Annie reminded him with a forceful whisper. His hands still trembled as he folded the map and shoved it in his pocket.
“It doesn’t hurt to be prepared,” he said defensively, above a whisper. Annie touched his arm and placed her finger at her lips.
“You did well, and we’re going to be fine.” She was up against him with a firm grip on his arms. There was just enough moonlight for him to see her with the most serious expression she could muster. His face cracked into a smile. “Better? We’ll be fine,” she said.
Annie could feel his heavy sigh against her cheek. “Easy for you to say,” he muttered. “You’re not leading us into danger.”
“Really? Like I’ve never done that before.” She handed Lial a thermos of water.
“Thanks.” He took a swig, patted her arm. She passed the motion back through the line, alerting everyone they were heading up the mountain on a narrow trail only three feet wide.
Annie’s fingers grazed the mountain face as she balanced herself away from the swift edge that dropped downward.
As much as she tried to retain her focus on the trek upwards and away from potential death, she couldn’t help but replay their ultimate goal, as determined by the Wizard Council. They were only to return the ring to the Fraternitatem and leave. Regardless of the reason why Benaiah stole the ring to sell, regardless of knowing who killed him, he deserved a certain amount of justice.
It won’t come.
Annie most often followed her gut and made decisions on the fly when necessary, with the goal always to put justice first. But as a potion master, she had become a member of the Wizard Council and made an oath as a wizard guard to follow the directives of the majority.
They haven’t convinced me this is the right way.
Voices whispered excitedly. The Middle East Wizard Council had never been so close to the Fraternitatem. As a result, they were jumpy and twitchy, like the ring stored in Annie’s hidden pocket, which continued to hum and vibrate against her leg. They all felt the magic.
Their footsteps, heavy against the hard rock revealed their presence. Annie pulled on Lial’s sleeve and held her hand out behind her, signaling the group to stop.
“What’s the matter?” Milo grunted.
“We’re loud,” she whispered.
“Ugh.” Milo waved a palm from Lial to himself in the back of the line. “Try this, girl,” he suggested.
The muffling spell he cast did a fair job, lowering the sound decibel as they continued up the trail.
Jason Pearce had described the Cave of Ages as a large cavern build in side the rock with walls that radiated a blue, shimmering light; the haze could be seen for miles in the desert after dark. Annie glanced up and saw that the blue light was indeed brilliant.
What is that made from?
Annie wiped her brow and took a sip from her thermos before putting it back in her field pack. The air was warming quickly, even as they ascended the mountain.
Lial stopped them against the wall, seemingly out of the line of sight from the cave.
“There’s someone up there,” he whispered to Annie as a jinx landed above their heads and slammed into the rock. Bits of mountain broke apart, cascading around them. Feverishly, the group whipped the rocks, tossing them off the side of the trail and down the cliff. Rocks tumbled and clinked, breaking the silence of the desert.
They waited against the wall, barely breathing as another jinx collided with the cliff. More earth slid down. Everyone’s arms flayed as they pushed the falling debris away, which was rough and difficult to do in the darkness.
After a minute, Gibbs cried out, “Fuck! Been hit!”
The jinxes stopped for a moment.
“They’re trying to frighten us,” Annie said and looked up.
“Everyone mostly okay?” Milo asked.
“Bleeding,” Gibbs grumbled. As Annie carefully trekked down the line, Gibbs moved his palm deftly against the cut, cleaning up and restoring his flesh. Even in the minimal light, Annie could see his spell hadn’t worked.
&n
bsp; “You need stitches.”
Never one for nonmagical options, Gibbs grumbled loudly.
“I’ll give you stitches later. Okay for now?” she asked.
“Just head up.”
As Annie cautiously maneuvered back to her location in line, a third jinx hit above them. It was not as strong, so less rock tumbled down and dusted them.
“I have your ring. Keep attacking, and I’ll teleport it to where you’ll never see it again!” Annie’s voice carried, and bounced across the hard stone. She had no doubt they had heard her.
Harsh whispers wafted down the mountain, though they couldn’t make out the conversation.
The ring.
“Prove you have the ring,” demanded a disembodied voice. It was deep and calm as if it could assert authority over them.
“You killed Benaiah. One of your own. You either let us pass safely, or we leave and you never see your precious ring again.”
“Hard-ass,” Gibbs grumbled. He shuddered and leaned against the wall. Blood soaked through his sleeve, more blood loss than Annie had expected.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Fine, girl.”
“I’ll stay with him. You head upwards,” Spencer volunteered and flashed a light on Gibbs’s arm.
Harried whispering from the cave carried in the wind.
They’ve never had anyone pressing up against them, threatening them, or ordering them. They’ve lived in the cave too long.
“You may pass. Alone,” the voice ordered.
Annie chuckled. They thought they could scare her, that they had all the power.
I can teleport whenever I need to.
“No! I’m bringing my team. And if you harm any of us, the Wizard Guard in these parts will come after you.”
Again, angry voices discussed her demands—or maybe it was fear in those short, terse discussions.
“Pass,” the voice agreed.
Lial led Milo and Annie up the mountain, followed closely by Avraham and Sari, leaving Steven and Michael to back them up should the Fraternitatem reverse this tentative agreement.
They stopped at a bend in the trail and peered around the rock face. The iridescent light from the cave was unreal and mesmerizing.
“Unbelievable,” Avraham whispered.
They stepped into the open and approached the cave entrance, positioning themselves in full view. Avraham gulped and Sari chirped; the view inside the cave was awesome, brilliant, beautiful.
The floor and walls appeared to be coated in a layer of water or maybe oil. They shone. Annie couldn’t help but touch the edge of the rock. They weren’t wet, just hard, cold, and smooth.
They glow! What makes them glow like this?
“Amazing.” Milo was just as impressed as Annie by the magic.
Beyond the blue walls, the room was sparsely furnished with only a heavy, wooden throne against the back wall. Modestly built, it contained only one cushion that in the low light might be sewn of simple cotton.
“Where’s the ring?” a voice accused.
It belonged to a man who materialized near the back of the cavern. Annie hadn’t been sure what to expect from the Fraternitatem, but he wasn’t it.
“Where’s the ring?” the man demanded. He was dressed in ancient robes of multicolored stripes that in the blue haze looked more like varying degrees of gray. She hadn’t expected a costume or his long, white straw-like beard. She had expected a group more like their own.
The man stood perfectly still, allowing her a chance to take in his full regalia with the Solomon’s knot at the center of his smock—the symbol of the Fraternitatem. It was the same design Benaiah had worn and gave Annie confirmation that they were in the correct place.
She summoned the ring and slipped it on her finger. The three remaining rocks shimmered in the light as if they were meant to be there. She held her hand above her head as she faced the man. Light sparkled across the cavern, and he stroked a very long beard.
“Give it to me,” he commanded with his hand open wide. Reluctantly, Annie stepped inside.
Dad may have been the last non-member to have been here.
“Why did you kill Benaiah?” she asked. Fabric rustled behind her when Milo and Lial raised their palms in a protective stance.
“We handled a situation amongst ourselves as we’ve done for many millennia. Now please give me my ring.”
“Not until I have your word we will have safe passage from the Cave of Ages. No spells, hexes, jinxes. Just a safe journey down the mountain,” Annie ordered.
The man smiled at her. It was neither warm, nor welcoming. She found it more of a sneer. She closed her fist and shoved her hand in her pocket.
“You are a tough negotiator. I will honor you, and you will have safe travels.”
Annie held her hand out as if to shake his; she’d prefer a magically binding contract.
I don’t think I trust this man at all.
“I’m Anne Pearce,” she offered.
His eyes widen in surprise before he could gather his reserve. “Melichi,” he volunteered. His handshake was limp, only offering his fingertips. Annie grabbed his whole hand.
“You’re Jason Pearce’s daughter, yes?”
“He met you eight years ago. You ordered him to stop searching and collecting the Chintamani Stones,” she said in an accusatory tone. In her heart, Annie knew they had ordered the hit on her father. It was all that Annie could do to keep her hands from shaking.
“Your dad was a good man,” he stated.
Annie gazed at him suspiciously, arching her eyebrows. “I never want to see the Fraternitatem on U.S. soil again. For any reason. Do I make myself clear?”
With their hands still in handshake, with magic swirling around them, Melichi had no choice but to make the deal as stated.
He’d better not add to the deal.
“Yes. The Fraternitatem will not go to the U.S. for any reason. I apologize for the murder of Benaiah outside your black market portal. We should have dealt with the body in a much more discreet manner.”
“But you didn’t, and you’ve caused many difficulties. It isn’t easy to do a memory modification for the entire population of the earth,” Annie accused.
The magic that bound their agreement snaked around each of their hands as a golden light shimmered and sparkled, binding them together. When the magic completed its task, it dissipated in the cave air.
Still with their hands connected Melichi said, “Again, I do apologize for that inconvenience. We had every intention of leaving with Benaiah’s body, but we would have been discovered. Better you found him than us exposing magic.
He released his hand from hers. She slipped the ring from her finger and handed it to him.
He sneered at her briefly after putting the ring on his finger. “I didn’t order Rathbone to kill your father. Rathbone took it upon himself to handle an unfortunate situation. I actually tried to recruit your father to join us,” Melichi said.
Annie couldn’t hide her surprise and didn’t know how to respond to that revelation.
Dad never would have.
Annie didn’t trust Melichi. In her gut, she believed her father had died because of this case, regardless of whose idea it was or who had carried out the plan. The tears began to well in her eyes; she didn’t want Melichi to see her weakness.
Without another word, Annie turned and left the cave, teleporting from the entrance to collect Gibbs and Spencer and head home.
September 1: The Day of First Sun
Cyril B. Stonewell waited patiently for the world to forget Princess Amelie Maxillian of Amborix, but it would take longer than the six weeks he allowed for memories to pass. Hundreds of stories had been written, pictures were posted to millions of websites; her life story could still be accessed as if she were still living. It was, in part, due to the lack of closure. Though they knew who killed her, no one outside of Wizard Hall America or the Wizard Council of America knew the real reason why she was murdered
. Most importantly, no one anywhere knew what Stonewall was planning to do.
Stonewell dragged the heavy sack across the perfectly manicured lawn. He was surprised by a divot in the earth that caused the bag to bounce, waking the man stuffed inside.
Even in a magical stupor, the man inside woke and grew restless, or possibly he was just scared. He tugged and clawed at the canvas sack. When he was unable to loosen the ropes that tied the bag closed, he kicked and flayed, then shrieked in terror when all else failed. Stonewell glanced at the sack, at the body that shook and squirmed. Stonewell was not a young or healthy man, and the work was making him tired. Rather than using his beloved magic, he issued a hard kick to the man’s kidney and squatted beside the dirty bag.
“Keep this up, and I’ll kill you now,” Stonewell hissed. Though the man spoke only German, he understood the tone of Stonewell’s words. Now totally helpless inside the hot sack, the man stiffened into a tightly wound ball and let himself be dragged across the dew-covered lawn owned by the royal family of Amborix.
With his destination in sight, Stonewell stopped again and panted in exhaustion; the bag was heavy, even as thin and malnourished that his victim was. It was too much exertion for Stonewell.
But he couldn’t risk anyone discovering he was alive. Leaving any magical trace was dangerous. Though he loathed living without magic, he had remained alive and hidden without it.
Stonewell yanked on the drawstring of the sack and hobbled his way toward the gravesite, where the royal family had buried their only daughter, far from the prying eyes of the world.
With each labored step, the formerly high-ranking member of the Wizard Council grunted, sweat rolled down his cheeks. He wrapped the canvas handle around his hand, and took another step toward the large oak tree at the center of the open land.
Voices carried in the wind.
Panic filling his gut, Stonewell hobbled as quickly as he could toward the gravesite, where the grass hadn’t fully grown back. A moist patch of dark earth, smooth yet visible lay at his feet.
Stonewell dropped the bag and wiped sweat from his forehead, leaving behind a streak of dirt. Exhausted, he leaned against the granite headstone.
Wizard Hall Chronicles Box Set Page 67