Unexpected Magic

by Ann Macela

  Although she was almost afraid of what dreams might come after her emotional upheaval, she fell asleep quickly. When she woke the next morning, she lay still trying to remember them. The vague memories were pleasant, full of laughter, and refreshing. The only sure recollection was that Saxt had been in them, and she was happy.

  It wasn’t until she was on her way to the HeatherRidge with Saxt after breakfast that she looked at her soul mate and asked herself if he had truly come to terms with his own loss. Had he put his past behind him? He hadn’t told her that story yet. How could she bond with him without knowing those answers?

  Johanna tucked those thoughts away for later. They’d be free after lunch. Maybe this time his “Falkner Plan” would work correctly.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  At lunch time on Friday, Johanna was introducing her two Sword students to Miriam, Barnaby, Clyde, and Jake in the HeatherRidge restaurant when Saxt joined them. He had already met the students, and while the others talked, Saxt drew her aside to say, “I’ve cleared my calendar. We’re set for the weekend.”

  “Me, too,” she replied. Johanna’s fingers practically itched to touch him. Somehow he knew that because he gave her a wink and a devilish smile and whispered, “Later.” The word conjured up such thoughts that she knew she was blushing. Fortunately, nobody seemed to notice.

  The students departed, and the six followed the hostess into the corner where their table was set off by partitions to afford a small amount of privacy. They were about to sit down when a woman approached the table.

  “Hi, everyone,” the newcomer said. “Do you have room for one more?”

  “Kendra!” Johanna cried. After hugs all around, except of course for Barnaby and Saxt who had never met Kendra Degen, another place was set at the table, and they all sat down, with Johanna between Saxt and the newcomer.

  “Kendra and I have been friends forever,” Johanna told Saxt, “even if she is five years younger and was a spoiled brat.”

  “You were the worst babysitter I ever had,” Kendra retorted. “Besides, you encouraged me to try new things.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Blame it on me because you couldn’t control your spells and almost set the house on fire.”

  Everyone laughed. The others asked Kendra about her business and travels as an appraiser and expert on historical jewelry, and Johanna listened with half an ear. She and Kendra talked often on the phone or by e-mail, so she knew most of her friend’s news. The pretty, medium-height, brown-haired woman looked good, if a little jet-lagged.

  Johanna turned to Saxt and asked quietly, “You do know who Kendra is, don’t you? Since you’re chair of the Committee on Swords?”

  He nodded. “Yes. Several committee members have tried to convince her to join a team. We hate to see a Sword reputedly almost as powerful as Fergus Whipple not using her talents more. She says, rightly I expect, that her business travels make commitment to a team impossible. Do you know exactly what level she is? She refuses to be tested.”

  “She’ll have to be the one to tell you, not me,” Johanna answered. She wasn’t going to betray a friend’s confidences, even to him.

  “I understand,” Saxt said with a small smile. “She’s your friend.”

  Johanna breathed easier—he truly did understand. She nodded and joined the general conversation as Clyde asked what had brought Kendra home.

  “I was in France when I heard about your new method for ring generation,” Kendra said. “All the Defenders there are buzzing about it.”

  Everybody groaned at that bit of news, and Jake grumbled, “More people demanding to be trained.”

  Kendra ignored the interruption and continued, “Anyway, I’m on my way to Japan, and I decided to stop over and see it for myself. Can you show me? I’m flying out tomorrow night. I hate to be a bother, and if you don’t have the time, that’s all right.”

  “I don’t see why not …” Johanna glanced at Saxt. The expression on his face told her he agreed with her, although he wasn’t totally happy about the mess it made of their plans. Neither was she, but it was Kendra asking. They meant too much to each other. No way could she refuse.

  “Sure, no problem,” he said. “How about right after lunch?”

  For his answer, Johanna gave him a smile—part “thank you for doing this,” part “oh, well,” and part “phooey.”

  Saxt faced her and once more said softly, “Later.”

  That word again. Johanna felt her face warm, and she quickly ducked behind her menu.

  Kendra lifted her own menu and behind its cover, whispered, “Do you have news to tell me, Johanna?”

  “Not yet,” Johanna answered and gave Kendra a “be quiet” nudge with her elbow.

  Thank goodness, the waiter appeared for their orders, and conversation involved the new method and related developments for the rest of the meal.

  They finished dessert, and Saxt and Miriam were discussing the Independents situation when Jake muttered, “Watch out, people. Here comes Bellman.”

  Johanna stifled a groan when Phil marched up to the table with two of his buddies and a short, white-haired older man who carried a large loose-leaf binder and appeared rumpled and weary. Phil himself didn’t look too spiffy—somehow thinner, with bags under his eyes. He stopped between Miriam and Barnaby and said pleasantly, “Hello, everyone. Kendra, I didn’t know you were back.”

  “Only for a short time, Phil,” Kendra responded with no enthusiasm. Johanna knew they shared the same opinion of the man.

  Bellman indicated his older companion. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is Pryce Oakley, research librarian here at the center and an expert in ancient practitioner law.”

  Saxt, Miriam, and Barnaby were the only ones who had not met Oakley, and they exchanged greetings with him.

  “What can we do for you, Bellman?” Saxt asked.

  Johanna considered her nemesis closely. Something didn’t smell right here, and it wasn’t only Phil’s aftershave. Despite his worn appearance, the man was too happy, too satisfied, too triumphant.

  Phil beamed at everyone around the table. “Mr. Oakley was kind enough to help me in a research project. It took us most of the night, but we succeeded. Tell them what we found, please, sir.”

  Oakley opened his binder. “Mr. Bellman asked my help in researching the ancient statutes, particular those involving libel and slander and the various methods for arriving at judgment.”

  “Stop right there,” Miriam ordered and rose from her chair. “Bellman, if you’re going where I think, we will not have this conversation in public. Everyone follow me.”

  Saxt and Johanna exchanged a glance. He murmured softly to her, “Here we go.”

  “Definitely.” It was more than a bad smell making her nervous now. Her center began to vibrate like an evil item sat in the middle of the room. She nodded to Kendra. “Come with us. I may need your help.”

  Miriam asked the restaurant host a question, and they all followed him into an empty private dining room. She installed herself at the head of the long mahogany table. “Sit down, please. Bellman, keep your words and tone civil, or, I guarantee, the Defender Council will not look kindly on whatever scheme you’re brewing here.”

  Everyone sat—Phil, his two buddies, and Oakley on one side, Saxt, Johanna, Kendra, Jake, and Clyde on the other. Barnaby sat at the end, opposite Miriam. Johanna knew Phil’s henchmen, more of his supporters like Mort and Rodney, probably came along to be witnesses to his scheme.

  “All right, Pryce, please continue,” Miriam said.

  “As I was explaining,” Oakley picked up his narrative, “Mr. Bellman wanted to know first if a way existed to petition to be placed on a Defender-Sword team by Defender Council order. His is not an unusual question. The topic comes up every few years, so I immediately knew that answer, which is, in a word, ‘No.’ Membership is always determined by the team members alone. Likewise participants in practice sections. It has been that way since teams were first organized.”
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  “That’s what we told him,” Clyde said.

  “Quite right.” Oakley nodded, adjusted his glasses, and flipped to a page in his binder. “Then Mr. Bellman asked me about civil legal actions for injury by speech or slander—i.e., damaging another person’s reputation. He was particularly interested in cases resolved by a duel between litigants. I knew such laws and cases existed in ancient times. The question was, were any of the statutes still valid?”

  Oakley opened the metal prongs of the binder and removed some sheets. Handing them to Miriam, he said, “This law was first promulgated by the High Council in 1310 and was reenacted every hundred years or so. The last time was in 1818. It pertains to claims of libel and slander, possession of an evil magic item, and attempts to break soul-mate bonds. Why such disparate matters were combined in one piece of legislation is a mystery to me. Several methods of settlement are included also, one method of determination of guilt being trial by combat.

  “As nearly as I could ascertain, the evil-item possession part of the law is the only section that has been separated from the original statute and modernized to prohibit unsubstantiated claims or those made for pure spite or advantage. That section has been rewritten in a separate set of legislative rulings so that only the Defender Council can bring charges of item possession. The remainder of the original legislation has never been rescinded or nullified and is, according to my research, still in effect. Further investigation may, of course, prove otherwise.”

  While Miriam read the pages quickly, Johanna studied Bellman out of the corner of her eye. Phil was leaning back in his chair with the usual smirk on his face and staring straight at her. The idiot wanted to force her into a duel by dragging out some old law. He’d certainly tried every other means. Wouldn’t the man ever give up?

  Miriam passed the first two pages to Saxt. “Let me summarize, and, Pryce, correct me if I’m wrong. If the suit over these matters involves a Sword or Defender as one of the parties, it automatically comes before the Defender Council and not the High Council Court. Trial by combat was allowed if and only if the Defender Council ordered it after a full hearing, because the Council couldn’t come to a decision.”

  “Correct,” Oakley said.

  She read the third page. “Ah, here’s the kind of suit I assume you wish to bring, Bellman. One Sword claiming another Sword slandered him. I quote: ‘In a suit of slander, the aggrieved party must have three witnesses, unrelated by blood to either party or to each other, to the utterance. The burden of proof is on the accuser to show damage occurred because of the defamatory statement of the accused.’ Is that correct?”

  Phil sat up straight—so he could look down his nose, Johanna surmised—and said, “Yes. I want to bring suit before the Council for the defamatory statements Saxton Falkner, Clyde Russell, Jake Alexander, and Johanna Mahler made before my peers. They have severely harmed my reputation and limited my ability to find practice partners or to join a team, thereby not allowing me to carry out my sworn duties as a Sword.”

  “You’re assuming—or are you hoping—the Defender Council won’t be able to come to a decision and will somehow be forced to call for a decision by combat?”

  Miriam sounded so astonished that Johanna almost laughed. Miriam wasn’t used to Phil and his attempts to manipulate people and facts to his own benefit. This mischief, however, was a far reach, even for Phil, and disgusted Johanna even more than usual.

  “I’ll request they put the question directly to a duel. That would save us all a lot of time,” Phil answered.

  “Do you believe he has a case, Pryce?” Saxt asked.

  “Although Mr. Bellman did not explain his charges in detail to me,” Oakley replied, “I believe I was able to extrapolate his intentions from his questions. From that level of my knowledge, I cannot give an opinion one way or the other. Anyone can bring a suit over any matter. Whether or not the Defender Council will accept it, and whether or not the ruling will be in one party’s favor over another’s? That’s not for me to say.”

  Johanna knew Pryce Oakley had become a practicing attorney at the youngest age they let you join the bar. He did have an opinion and a definite one at that. She couldn’t blame him here, though, for straddling the fence. Who wanted to be caught between Phil and the Defender Council? Although the words he spoke were carefully neutral, the expression on his face and the tone of his voice clearly stated, “In a pig’s eye!”

  “See, Falkner,” Phil said, his craftiness and self-satisfaction oozing out of every word, “I can bring a suit, or two, or three. I can drag all of you through the courts from now to kingdom come. I can show you up for the hypocrites you are.”

  “Exactly what,” Miriam said in her low voice of command, “are you claiming has been done to you? What damages have you incurred because of their statements? Their true statements? What I heard them tell you was right on target. Despite knowing the possible consequences of your actions, you hogged power, and I witnessed it.”

  Phil held up one finger. “I want a full hearing, especially about that particular part of my suit. What constitutes ‘hogging’ when I have a larger magic center capacity than most and because of my ‘endowment’ need more energy? That’s one aspect.”

  Johanna wondered briefly if Phil did, in fact, have a greater capacity. The assumption was, the greater the capacity, the higher the level, and vice versa. If Phil had what he claimed, why wasn’t he a higher level? When she’d seen him in action, his output had never been greater than that expected of his level fourteen, as indicated by the colors in his blade and lightball. Mating usually increased level. He, however, had never found a mate. His claim to his need, therefore, sounded phony to everyone. Of course, his ‘need’ was no excuse for hogging—was he also claiming he couldn’t control himself?

  Phil held up another finger. “There’s another, more important slander. You heard Johanna deride and disparage my abilities and my courage, calling them into question because I was not present in the fight with the Cataclysm Stone and did not take part in the destruction of its pieces. That piece of filth made it all over the center within five minutes of our leaving that so-called discussion. Before I left the Defender Building, I was practically accosted by a gossip-mongering nitwit who demanded to know how I dared to act like a Sword when I ‘obviously’ wasn’t one.”

  Several people spoke out at his tirade. Jake called Phil an idiot, Clyde said Phil didn’t understand what they’d been telling him, and even Barnaby shook his head and mumbled something about a “dreadful misunderstanding.” One of Phil’s buddies said, “Go get ‘em.”

  Johanna kept her eyes on Phil. He wasn’t finished. His gleeful gaze was darting from one to the other of his audience, and his sneer grew broader. She could almost swear she could smell his aftershave—which, mercifully, she hadn’t noticed before now.

  Phil held up his hands like he was calming a crowd at a rally. When his audience quieted down, he ticked off his points on his fingers. “Here is what I consider just compensation for the damage done to me. I want an apology from the lot of you, published in The Witches and Warlocks Journal. I want a team of my own, and I want it certified by the Council. I want to be part of the destruction of the remaining Cataclysm Stone pieces. I want no more charges about hogging. Is that too much to ask?”

  Looking utterly at ease and in command, he relaxed in his chair and waved his hands in an expansive gesture. “Folks, I can keep the Defender Council, and the High Council Court as well, tied up forever with my suit and its appeals. It will cost us all a lot of time and money. I’m willing to spend both to protect my good name and prove my abilities. However …”

  He paused to glance around the table and stopped his gaze on Johanna, who stared right back at him. She knew what he would say next.

  “However,” Phil went on, “I’m willing to drop the suit if Johanna will duel with me. So, what’s it going to be, Jo, fight or testify?”

  Yep, exactly what she figured. Phil’s lawsuit threat w
as simply a ploy to force her onto the arena floor. What nonsense. What a poor attempt at blackmail. Only Phil could come up with such a ridiculous idea.

  On the other hand, what if she upended the notion, to operate in everyone’s benefit except Phil’s? What if she used his challenge to shut him up instead? The opportunity was too good to miss. Johanna reached into her purse and pulled out a pen and the index cards she always carried. Ignoring Phil, she began to write a list of demands of her own. See how he liked these, the arrogant jackass.

  Miriam took command. “Bellman, if you’re going to file a suit, you better do it quickly. I’m going to alert the High and Defender Councils, and we’ll rescind the combat part of these statutes and all other laws allowing combat by the end of the day tomorrow, effective immediately. We’ll have no barbaric practices in our present-day world. You’d do better to control yourself and your center than to waste everybody’s time.”

  “Or, fight me, Bellman,” Saxt offered. “I’ve already suggested that.”

  “Or me,” Clyde suggested.

  “Or me,” Kendra said, with an innocent expression and a slightly evil laugh. “I’ll take you on any day of the week.”

  “I’m not a fool who goes up against much higher levels,” Phil scoffed. “Johanna or nobody.”

  Johanna finished her list and looked up at him. “I’ll duel with you, Phil. But only under certain conditions.”

  “Yes!” Phil yelled and pumped his fist in the air.

  “No, Johanna,” Saxt countered. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I agree,” Miriam stated. “The Defender Council won’t condone the duel or give it legal standing.”

  “Listen to my conditions before you decide,” Johanna suggested. “I know I don’t have to fight him. If we can end this mess once and for all, I’m willing to do it. Everybody here has to agree to the stipulations, or it’s no go.”

  “Fair enough,” Miriam said. “Bellman, don’t interrupt her.”

  Lips firmly pressed together while seemingly about to explode with glee, Phil almost danced in his chair.