by Ann Macela
“One, two, three.”
She felt power from the ring surge into Saxt. His center split the energy in two, sending half to her and the rest to his hands. As Saxt took from her left, so did he give to her right. Enormous strength and might charged through them, into their hands, and out to their blades. Their hands, their arms, probably their entire bodies, glowed gold.
Both swords turned a deeper gold and acquired white streaks.
“Push harder,” he grunted.
She forced more power into both her hands and out to her blade.
The swords flashed into brilliant, dazzling white blades.
“Cut the water,” Saxt yelled.
The waterfall faded.
With the staff upright in front of him, Phil crouched in the middle of his pentagon. For a few seconds, he stared at them like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Suddenly he jerked as if he’d been slapped. Still crouching, he punched the staff head at them.
“One. Two. Three!”
This one’s for you, Billy. She released the power in her blade without shifting aim to the man below her target point. A thin white bullet streaked toward the black-green wall.
Crack! Boom! The pentagon panel shattered, spewing greenish flakes in a noxious cloud. Her beam passed right over the crouching Phil and crashed into a back panel, which exploded into green blobs.
Phil screamed and threw himself to the floor, where he curled into a shaking ball, arms around his head. He let go of the staff as he fell, but it didn’t matter. Saxt had already hit his target.
At the moment her shot hit the right wall, Saxt’s white beam, a little larger than hers, splintered the left, which crashed down like shards of greenish-black glass. Undiminished, the missile struck the baggie. The plastic ballooned and blew apart, scattering black crystals around the inside of Phil’s fortress.
All except the Hex.
The black cube simply fell out of the hand to the floor.
“Yes!” Johanna yelled. She and Saxt had no time, however, to celebrate their success.
Black flame burning brightly, the Hex began to shoot at their pentagon. Nasty, powerful greenish-black missiles bent their walls and threatened their stability even more than before.
Johanna squinted her eyes to see it better. “It’s misshapen. Oh, I think one of the other pieces is stuck to it.”
“Probably merging with it,” Saxt said. “Gather all the energy you can, and aim at the Hex. Let’s end this once and for all.”
Power swirled around them and through them again as they took from the ring and concentrated it in their hands and swords. As she and Saxt brought their separate blades to bear on the Hex, the tips came close together. The pull between them was undeniable.
“Together?” she asked.
“Together,” he confirmed.
The sword tips touched, merged, and pointed at the Hex. The heart of the Cataclysm Stone ceased its attacks and lay still and silent. Only its evil black flame flickered as it seemed to study them.
“More!” Saxt shouted to the team.
“Everything!” Johanna yelled.
They poured power into their swords. The blades, which had reverted to gold after the first strikes, transformed into white again—blazing, gleaming, magnificent white.
With a flare of black, the Hex shot a tremendous blast.
Their pentagon point received the impact, bent inward, kept bending …
“Oh, no, you don’t!” Clyde yelled and sent more energy to the walls. The point held, only inches from their combined blade tip.
Johanna and Saxt said together, “One. Two. Three!”
A shining white bullet blazed out of the fused tip and struck the black cube.
The Hex and all its pieces disintegrated without a sound.
Their blades golden again, Johanna and Saxt stood still, ready to resume the battle if need be. It took a few seconds for their eyes to adjust to the dimness.
The only illumination left in the room were a few still-burning torches, their swords, the spinning ring, and the somewhat diminished glow of their battered pentagon. All she could make out at the other end were Phil, lying motionless, and the staff, its hand melted into a blob of white.
Had they really destroyed all the items at once? Johanna whispered, “Do you see any of the pieces?”
“No,” Saxt answered just as softly. “Phil’s not moving. He’s either unconscious or dead.”
“I don’t think we need our blades,” Johanna said.
They canceled their spells and, with Saxt’s arms still around Johanna, turned to face the team.
In the dim light, Charles and Pat were holding Chuck up, and Dorothy and Clyde were hugging. All five were smiling as they discontinued the ring and then the fortress.
After all the fireworks, Johanna found the resulting shadows almost soothing.
A shaft of light suddenly poured in from the opening door above. Darkness descended again when it closed, but Miriam’s deep voice came down from the balcony. “Sorry it took us so long. We couldn’t get the damn gate open. Did we miss anything?”
Chapter Thirty-Six
In a private dining room, Saxt, Johanna and their impromptu team ate their way through the HeatherRidge’s menu. It had taken an hour to explain what had happened and hand over disposition of Phil, his house, his drunk henchmen, and the rest of the mess to Miriam and Jake. Saxt had finally bundled the team into the cars to return to the HeatherRidge before they all fell over.
The expenditure of such a huge amount of energy had almost incapacitated Clyde and Dorothy. Pat and Charles were in a little better shape, and, with the resilience of youth, Chuck was rebounding quickly.
Nobody was talking, even the respective spouses, who were making sure the food kept coming.
Saxt snuck a glance at his soul mate. She looked so damn good. Exhausted, a little thinner, moving slower, as was to be expected. Color was coming back into her face, however, and her eyes had regained their sparkle.
As if she could feel his gaze, she glanced up from her steak cutting and smiled. Since he had a mouthful of baked potato, he satisfied himself with a wink. She sent him one of her own.
They were finishing desserts—plural—when Miriam and Jake walked in.
“I’ll take a piece of that cake and some coffee,” Miriam said when she sat down. She waited until the waiters left before she spoke. “Here’s the situation. The medical staff have taken Bellman to the practitioner hospital where the two who had the Cataclysm Stone in the first place are being housed. I’ve spoken by phone with his parents and one of his sisters, and they’re coming to take care of his property, and eventually, of him.”
“What shape is Phil in?” Pat asked.
“Like Bruce Ubell and Alton Finster, he is comatose. His prognosis is worse than theirs, however. His brain is hardly functioning, and he’s on life support. The family has a hard decision ahead of them.” Miriam’s expression was more sad than angry.
“The doctors say Bellman’s is the worst case of possession by an evil item they’ve ever seen,” she continued after taking a sip of coffee. “From what we were able to tell them about his actions, especially with regard to his dealings with Billy Johnson, his non-mate obsession with Johanna, and his exposure to evil as a teenager, they’re speculating that the items have been manipulating him from the first time he entered the vault. In my laywoman’s term, the evil made him crazy. We found a few more of the nasty things in his bedroom in that monstrosity of a house.”
“I really feel for the Bellmans,” Clyde said. “The rest of the family are totally honest.”
“Yes, they are,” Miriam agreed. “They knew something was wrong with Phil, but had no idea what, and he didn’t exactly encourage their caring. He totally resisted their efforts to get him to a doctor. I didn’t tell his father how Phil learned to open the vault. That information is not relevant at the moment.”
“The vault keepers are in an uproar, of course,” Jake interjected.
“I believe one outcome of the theft will be totally new spells and security at all our vaults. I’m going to recommend a refresher course on spell and password security in general. God only knows what other spells kids are picking up from their parents.”
“I don’t even want to imagine,” Johanna said. “To learn that Phil not only entered the vault, and came under the influence of an item, and figured out how to mask the evil from us all these years … well, it’s absolutely astounding.”
“Did anyone find any traces of the Cataclysm Stone or the amulet Phil was wearing?” Dorothy asked.
“Nothing of the Stone. Nothing of the amulet either. Not even ashes. Phil’s chest and robe were burned right where it would have been.” Miriam studied Saxt and Johanna for a few seconds. “I can’t even begin to estimate how much power you two used destroying the Hex, its pieces, and that amulet, all at once.”
“We couldn’t have done it without our team,” Saxt said. “It’s not an activity I want to do very often, I can tell you that.”
Several “Amen’s” came from the other members.
“I would suggest a hypothesis,” Clyde said, “that we were able to destroy it all because the pieces had actually begun bonding, reconstituting themselves into one.”
“That may be,” Miriam remarked drily, “but I don’t see us testing that idea.”
“Heavens, no,” Clyde agreed, while several around the table shook their heads.
“Are any more evil items out there as powerful as the Cataclysm Stone?” Pat asked.
“Except for the legendary monsters nobody’s seen for centuries, like the Depths of Hell, not that we know of,” Miriam answered. “That doesn’t prevent another from surfacing, of course. We didn’t know the Cataclysm Stone was still around until one of its holders used it outside its protections.”
“One other point,” Johanna interjected. “As far as I know, the ability Saxt and I have to share energy and cast first one sword, split it into two, and shoot a combined beam from the tips is unique. I’m happy to cooperate in studying our ability, but I won’t let anyone make us lab rats.”
“I agree,” Saxt stated. “As Sword committee chair, I know for a fact that we’re the only Sword-Sword soul mates in the world, maybe the only ones who have ever existed. Granted, the combination may have come together in those legends Miriam mentioned. No clear record has come down to us on how they actually made and used the magic in the Blaze Stone and Pinnacle of Heaven tales, for example.
“Given the power exchange and level increases in our double bondings, I doubt two non-mated Swords could duplicate our combined-blade efforts, except perhaps a couple of level twenties—of whom only six or seven exist worldwide. Fergus and his buddies are welcome to try, but Johanna and I are not going to spend a lot of time working on it. We both have too much to do in our day jobs.”
“I hear you,” Miriam said. “We’ll discuss it all in both the Defender and the High Councils, here and abroad. From what you’ve told us, the soul-mate phenomenon and imperative also played an important part in your increased abilities. Nobody has ever been able to discover how those ancient forces work, either. We’ll probably never understand how or why they intervened.”
“Except that it was at definitely the right time,” Clyde remarked.
Saxt decided it was time to change the subject. He told the young man across the table, “Chuck, you did well.”
“Thank you, sir,” Chuck answered.
Saxt eyed him for a few seconds. The kid had a cocky smile, reminiscent of the one Saxt had noted in their previous confrontation. Best to nip any ideas in the bud. He folded his arms on his chest, studied Chuck until the young man started squirming under the scrutiny, and said, “There are a few things you need to understand, however.”
Chuck’s eyes grew large as his expression changed to anxiety. “W-w-what?”
“First, you will continue working with Mr. Grimstead. You still have to meet the stipulations of your agreement. Second, Swords and Defenders never discuss our activities outside of our community. In this particular case, you will discuss your experience with absolutely no one except your parents, Mr. Grimstead, Mr. Alexander, and those designated by me, as chair of the Committee on Swords, or Ms. Chandler, as head of the Defenders Council. Is that perfectly clear? No one else. No bragging. No dropping of little hints that you’ve been part of what happened today. Not a single word. Do you understand and will you abide by these rules?”
Chuck glanced at his father, who nodded encouragement. The kid gulped and sat up straight. “Yes, sir, I understand. I’ll abide by all the rules.”
“Good man,” Saxt said and turned to Miriam. “Do you need us any longer? If not, my mate and I are going home for some much needed rest.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Johanna was putting away her toothbrush as Saxt walked into the bathroom. She didn’t know how he felt, but her shower had perked her up quite a bit. That and the energy rebuilding in her cells from their feast.
His dark hair was still damp from his own shower, and all he wore were navy boxers. He looked good enough to eat.
Before she could reach for her moisturizer, he grasped her shoulders from behind. After giving her a kiss on the neck—that sent shivers down her spine—he grinned at her in the mirror.
“Ah, you have on my favorite sexy T-shirt,” he murmured.
Johanna gazed at her reflection and inwardly groaned. Again, she’d grabbed the first thing that she found, her “Plays With Swords” nightshirt. “This? Sexy? It’s faded and dingy and stretched out of shape.”
Saxt slid his hands from her shoulders to her waist. He waggled his eyebrows. “Honey, you can play with my sword any time you want.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, puh-lease.”
“Besides,” he said as he pulled on the shirt to tighten it across her front, “it’s almost transparent. I see the nicest little glimpses …”
She studied her reflection closely. Sure enough, the material was so thin that she could see her body underneath it. Particularly her breasts, which were as usual reacting to his touch. “Oh!”
Saxt chuckled and moved his hands up to cup her breasts. His thumbs on her nipples sent zings of excitement through her, and she put her hands on his. That didn’t stop his playing, of course. When he started kissing her neck again, particularly right under her ear, she rose on tiptoe to give him better access.
He switched to the other side, and all the zings intensified their zinging. Before she lost all control, she reminded herself that two could play this game. Sliding her rear against his front made stiffer the erection she had felt the second he came up behind her.
Now he groaned.
She opened her eyes—when had she closed them?—to see their joint reflection. It could be a picture—well, an erotic one: Soul mates at play.
Saxt raised his head, met her gaze in the mirror with the hottest look he’d ever given her, and murmured, “Let’s go to bed, honey.”
They made slow, luxurious love. Taking their time to explore, to taste, to savor, to enjoy. To learn each other’s body, to discover each other’s sensitive points, to delight in each other’s responses. To bring themselves to a completion usually found only in bondings.
Without, Johanna was relieved to notice, the enormous exchanges of magic energy the matings had generated. Oh, some magic was still present—as it should be.
Lying on top of Saxt afterwards, she let herself fall into a doze while he rubbed her back. How much later she woke, she didn’t know, but they were under the covers. Instead of being on her side of the bed on his right, however, she was on his left. They lay side by side, touching from shoulders to feet. Her right leg was bent and on top of his left, while his left hand lay on her thigh. She stretched out her right hand and placed it on his.
Tiny prickles of energy flowed between their hands.
At the contact, she grasped his hand, then let go, afraid she might have woken him.
No, h
e was awake because he turned his hand over so they could be palm to palm and said, “I think we’re going to have to get used to this.”
Johanna stretched out her fingers to lie between his. Her center hummed. “I think so, too.”
Neither said anything for a few minutes. She simply snuggled closer—if that was possible—and luxuriated in their closeness.
“I’ve been thinking,” Saxt said, his voice a low rumble.
“Hmmmm? What about?”
“You, me, our coming together, not only as mates, but our being here, in the same place at the same time. When I agreed to supervise the testing, I had no idea what to expect. There would be some change and probably turmoil, of course, mostly to do with opposition to it. Nothing, of course, prepared me for your team’s development. Especially not for you. Not to find a soul mate after all these years.”
“I know what you mean,” she sighed. “The last thing on earth I expected was to find another mate. Couple that with Phil and all his problems, then the matings and level increases, then casting first one sword, then two. I’m still in awe and slightly discombobulated. I’ve never been all that big a fan of surprises.”
“Me, either. You were the most gigantic one—and the best.”
“I agree. I feel the same about you. So, here we are, mated and everything. Well, almost everything.” She sighed as she thought of all they had to do.
“What’s left?”
“Oh, meeting my parents, for one. We never did call them today. Also your moving, your business, our wedding.”
Saxt groaned and held her hand tighter. More energy flowed. Her center hummed encouragingly. She thought his did also.
“Can we have a small wedding?” he asked, somewhat wistfully. “Not a big hullabaloo that takes a year to plan? I know you didn’t have a wedding with Billy, and I’ll certainly agree to whatever you want. I just want it quick.”
Johanna was touched by his concern about her bridal desires, and she wasn’t going to tell him there was no such thing as a “small” wedding. Besides, she also wanted it quick. “I’ll keep it as small as I can,” she promised, “and as quick as I can.”