The Gleaning, Spellspinners Series #2 (The Spellspinners of Melas County)

by Kling, Heidi R.

  Just as he’d promised Lily in the dungeon, Logan found the witches waiting in a grove not far from the ring of stones.

  Dressed in long, white ceremonial robes with thick, hooded cloaks, they stood in a circle chanting an ethereal melody. Golden leaves lifted off the earth, dancing between them, as if they too, could hear their entrancing song.

  Afterwards, they gathered in groups of twos and threes, chatting nervously as they waited.

  Now was his chance.

  No Time To Say Hello, Goodbye

  Lily

  Hey, there.

  I spun around, scanning the dark woods.

  Someone grabbed my shoulders, pulled me up into strong, male arms.

  “Let me go!” I yelled, punching his shoulder. “Help!”

  The wind blew back the hood of his cloak, which smelled musty, like time in a closet—not at all like Logan.

  When he set me down, his blue eyes looked confused by my aggression; but he’d done a great job pulling the wool over my eyes in the dungeon as well.

  “Lil, what’s wrong?”

  “You think I’m stupid? That I’d fall for this trick again?”

  “Trick?”

  “Jude, I know it’s you. Just leave me alone.”

  “Jude?” the warlock asked, in apparent shock.

  “Just drop the act.”

  “Lily. You’re talking crazy. It’s me, Logan.”

  His jaw muscles moved in that Logan-way. I blinked, at a loss.

  “Lily. I’m not sure what’s been going on. But it’s me. I swear to you. Look.”

  He yanked off his robe, and under it, black ink spread across his chest. “You can’t fake the ink. Has he been shifting into me, manipulating you? I’m going to kill him.”

  His passion poked a hole in my defenses, and I sighed in relief. “I prefer you in your beach hoodie,” I said, sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I’m just so confused right now.”

  “Lily, you need to tell me exactly what happened in the dungeon.”

  “I…I don’t want to talk about it. He tricked me, like the doppelganger tricked you. It…it didn’t mean anything.”

  “That bastard! What did he want from you?”

  “He’s…making me think he could be the Rognaithe.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “I don’t know what to think. But I have to get back before they notice I’m gone. You should get back too.”

  I started to walk away. He grabbed my elbow, looked me right in the eye. “But we’re the ones, Lil.”

  “We can’t know that until you reveal the mark.”

  Until then, I had to do as Iris said. I had to remain neutral. Keep my feelings out of the Stones.

  “It’s better this way, Logan. Whatever happens in there today, I hope…” Unable to speak the words I felt, I touched his cheek, then kissed him softly on the glittery spot my lips had left on his skin.

  “Lily!” He called after me into the wind.

  But I was already gone.

  “Where’d you sneak off to?” Orchid said, before they rounded the corner to enter the Gleaning.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Damn, those warlocks, right? And to think, I used to think human boys were hot.”

  ”Yeah, well. Human guys are a hell of a lot simpler.”

  “Can’t argue there,” she said. “Hey, your lipstick’s kinda smudged. The color is all wrong, too.”

  “I don’t have another one,” I said.

  “And…that’s when magic comes in handy.” I handed her my lipstick, and she spun a quick spell, turning the shade from a deep red to pearl pink. My lips tingled as she magically brushed it on.

  “Better?” I asked.

  In fact, I was feeling really weak and drained. Not a feeling I enjoyed. I tried to blink the ominous thoughts away.

  Orchid frowned, concerned. “You don’t look so good, Lil. You feeling okay?”

  “I’m so confused. I don’t know what to do.”

  Orchid didn’t have a response.

  The other girls were lining up; Camellia was giving a last minute pep talk, greeting each witch down the line individually. My palms sweated with nervous energy. The loud beat of the drum inside the Stones wasn’t helping. It was ominous, like the gray clouds hovering over the ring, as if they were vying for domination of the pastels of twilight.

  “Are you nervous, too, O?”

  “A little,” she said without meeting my eyes. “We all are. That’s normal going into something like this.” She pulled up her hood and set her lips, like she was mentally preparing for what lay ahead. “It might not feel like it right now, but I promise, it’s all going to be okay.”

  She squeezed my hand, and I wished on the dandelion fluff floating between us that she was right.

  Logan

  The traditional Warlock March—performed by hooded elders on wide, black, ceremonial drums—reverberated against the Stones, as the warlocks marched together into the ring. Logan, as the leader of the Ceruleans, led his brothers of the same ranking, followed by the Jade and Fire levels, who’d entered the rings before and knew what to expect.

  Under their black hooded cloaks, the boys wore thin black cotton martial arts uniforms; their jackets were wrapped tightly over their bare chests, tied with belts that corresponded to their level. Their feet were bare. On their wrists, they wore leather bands etched with the moon sign, symbolizing the Sons of Darkness.

  The boys circled the ring once, before taking their places in order of rank.

  On the opposite side of the ring, dressed alternately in black and white, the Congression witches and warlocks stood like chess pieces. Heads covered by thick cowls, they stood in anticipatory silence.

  Logan didn’t know where to look. You didn’t look a warlock member of the Congression directly in the eye. Rumor had it that if their gaze locked on yours, it stung like vipers and burned for three days. There was probably a similar penalty among the witches, one he wasn’t eager to learn firsthand.

  When the drumming reached its crescendo, Jacob, from under a thick crimson hood, stepped forward to address the crowd. “Sons of Darkness, and Members of the Congression, I welcome you to the Gleaning! Our young warlocks have trained vigorously all their lives for this very Solstice twilight. So without further ado, I’d like to welcome our female counterparts, the Daughters of Light, into our magical circle of Solstice Stones.”

  Drowning out Jacob’s boring rhetoric, a new, ethereal song filled the air. While a redheaded witch strummed a golden harp at the entrance, the Daughters of Light entered the ring with such grace, it took his breath away. He only wished Lily hadn’t been acting so strangely before. That he’d had a chance to confront Jude about whatever the hell she was talking about. But there’d be time for that. He had to get through this first.

  The witches’ Mistress appeared, standing opposite Jacob. Facing each other, they extended their arms, palms up. Logan held his breath as a single stone began to glow and vibrate on the dirt between them; then it floated up and hovered between their closed eyes. Spinning slowly at first, it gathered momentum, until an audible swish rang through the air. The stone flew toward the Cerulean warlocks’ formation till it stopped to hover directly in front of Logan.

  “The stone has chosen its warlock,” the witch said.

  As Logan anticipated, the rock zipped through the air and stopped in front of Lily, whose porcelain face was partially veiled by her thick, white hood.

  “The stone has made its choice,” Jacob said.

  Squaring his broad shoulders, Logan moved into his position in the ring. He closed his eyes, looking inward, focusing on the battle ahead.

  When he opened them, he saw dark storm clouds gathering with freakish speed above the ring. A wind blew in from the ocean, cold and foreboding. At the same moment, a trio of cloaked figures with white masks approached, and presented Logan and Lily with three swords.

  Lily picked first. She reached out, and a long, flashy Samurai swo
rd with a purple handle flew into her hand. With quick chopping motions, she tested the weapon for weight and flexibility before slipping it into the sheath at her hip. It fell perfectly, like it belonged with her, was part of her.

  A thicker, heavier sword, with a brilliant blue dragon and ancient runes etched into the hilt, chose Logan.

  The dragon sword.

  He’d often heard about it, but had never seen it up close. The sword of legends.

  The trio, dressed in silver robes to symbolize neutrality, stepped between Logan and Lily. “Spellspinners, ladies and gentlemen of the Congression, and young competitors, it is time to invite magic into our circle,” they said in one gender-neutral voice, like a Greek chorus.

  Thunder cracked; the wind picked up. The witches and warlocks rose, standing outside the circle with conjoined hands.

  Jacob met Lily’s Mistress at the western end of the ring. When their hands touched, indigo sparks flew from their skin.

  “Your sword,” the chorus said, reaching out to Logan, who reluctantly handed over the weapon. “And yours,” they said to Lily. Logan glanced over at her, but she was staring straight ahead, focused on the upcoming fight. He should focus, too.

  “Mistress Camellia, Master Jacob, the honor is yours.”

  Together they raised the swords toward the sky, joining them at the tips. Logan watched in awe as a streak of golden light tore across the sky with a deafening thunderclap.

  When the lightning struck the conductors, Jacob and Camellia lit up like live wires, sparking in the rain. Glowing from the inside out, they walked in opposite directions, dragging their electrified swords against the rocks. Electric energy pulsed through the circle as they rounded the circumference, leaving no stone untouched.

  So this was the secret of the Stones.

  Stonehenge, the Orkney Islands, Melas—the ancient rings were vessels for transporting energy from the elements into witches and warlocks.

  Almost as rapidly as the storm gathered, it ceased, replaced by the rosy glow of sunset.

  But the circle still hummed with electricity.

  Camellia handed Lily her energized sword. Logan took his from Jacob. The trio met them in the middle of the circle. “Bow and begin,” the chorus sang. Logan studied Lily, predicting her first move. She still hadn’t met his eyes.

  Without warning, she charged him, smashing her foot, hard, into his side before he could move out of the way. Her eyes changed after the first hit. As he felt the energy drain from his body, flickers of orange appeared around her pupils. This was how it happened, how they changed so quickly.

  If this was how she wanted to show off her powers, well, he’d match it. He ripped away from her contact, severing the bond that was gleaning his magic.

  In the background, the witches rhythmically stomped the ground, cheering Lily on. Logan felt the intensity of Jacob’s gaze as he backed up to scrape his blade against one of the stones.

  When he swept the blade back toward the witch, a bale of wind gathered in its wake, making whips out of her long hair and knocking her to the ground.

  Logan sheathed his sword and created an energy ball. Daggers shot from his eyes as he aimed and fired. The energy ball shot through the circle, sucking up more light and heat from the stones as it coursed through the electric air.

  Lily stabbed her sword into the dirt, and a thick mound of earth shot up in front of her, forming a shield. Logan watched in disbelief as the gravestone looking mound sucked up his ball of fire.

  He sneered, unsheathing Blue Dragon. He wasn’t in the mood for anything less than steel on steel. And electric steel was bound to be even more fun.

  With a weighted swish, he swung the thick blade toward Lily, scattering the mound into sparks of golden dirt.

  No longer protected, the sword grazed her ear, snipping a piece of her hair. He watched it fall to the dirt. She flicked ignited swordfingers toward his feet. He jumped, but not in time. He smelled his flesh burn. If this was all for show, she was sure putting in a good effort. He swung at her again, not hard enough to hurt her, just brush past her. Effortlessly, she twisted out of the way with a triple cartwheel, landing on her butt with a hard thud.

  Logan took advantage, storming deliberately toward her, swiping at her ankles. He thought for sure he’d at least nick her, but Lily deftly rolled out of his way and leaped into the air higher than he’d ever seen a Spinner jump without the ability to levitate.

  Her eyes opened wide, sparkling with flame.

  He blinked in disbelief. The change was happening so fast.

  You are way off your game, prized warlock. Better watch out, or I’ll be blazing fire before you can even get a spark going.

  It was the ring—the stones—that was making her so violent. The Gleaning was too intense.

  Lily, it’s okay. It’s almost over.

  Are you soothing yourself, Logan, or me? Her calculating eyes unnerved him.

  It’s all just a show, he told himself. For the Congression, the masters. Glean some magic and go.

  She paced in front of him like a lioness.

  No time for friendship in the Gleaning, right?

  Lily, stop it. Why are you saying these things?

  He tried to block her voice and focus, but the electric charge in the air was hard to ignore. It made him feel more aggressive, more violent than he liked. It was obviously having a similar effect on Lily.

  Now that you’ve had a taste, you must want it so badly. All the purity, all the eternal youth. How good it would feel coursing through your veins…

  I don’t want that. I just…

  So Jacob can glean it off you, later, right? So he can be young and virile again? Too bad we’re not going to let you take what was never yours.

  I just want both of us to get out of here in one piece, Lil. You know that. What’s your problem?

  You’re my problem.

  He scanned her collarbone.

  She wasn’t wearing his amulet.

  His eyes ran down her left arm and stopped on the lavender ribbon wrapped around her wrist.

  This wasn’t Lily.

  Fool him once, shame on him. Fool him twice? Not happening. Logan stopped fighting his violent urges and gave into full-on rage. Logan swung his weapon through the air again, slicing invisible enemies as he charged her. The dark energies grew, pulsing through his body; he had never despised anyone like this. Not Jacob. Not Jude. No one.

  He didn’t want her injured; he wanted her dead.

  Metal clanging metal, the two dueled through the circle until Logan pinned the witch against the tallest stone. He shoved her as hard as he could, his strong arms pushing her sword sideways into her chest, dangerous shocks sparking through them and around them. She pushed back. Her sword versus his. Hard. She was strong. Nearly as strong as he was.

  But not quite.

  The witch’s eyes danced with flames as her face reddened from the pressure of his sword. She was trying her damndest to glean his magic, but he wasn’t letting her.

  Shame you wouldn’t just reveal your damn mark then; would’ve made everything a lot easier for you.

  She was trying to distract him, to throw him off his game. He shouldn’t give in to her. But he had to know.

  Who are you?

  Someone who doesn’t believe you’re the Chosen.

  While he reeled from shock, the witch kneed him hard in the gut. She twisted, knocking the sword out of his hand, sending it spinning in the dust.

  With a single kick to the side, he knocked the sizzling sword from the witch’s hand, and sent it sprawling. Then he charged her, kicking her hard in the stomach. She tumbled backwards and knocked her head against the stone.

  The loud crack excited him, sparking a fiery new energy in his body; he was advancing, too.

  Everyone watched, waited, as the witch slid slowly down to the ground, leaving a trail of bright red blood on the stone. She landed in a heap, convulsing from the stone’s electricity.

  Logan approached
her slowly, the burning pain in his eyes making it almost impossible to see.

  Get up, he sneered. Sparks shot off his sword as he tapped the side of her thigh, in an effort to rouse her. Her response was the weak flinch of a dead snake. Get up, witch.

  He nudged her again. No response. Was she unconscious? He hadn’t really meant to hurt her this badly.

  Logan glanced once more at the fallen witch, then at the creepy trio for guidance. But they were just standing there hiding behind their masks. What were they waiting for? Call the match!

  Suddenly, Logan felt a burn, a stinging white-hot burn in his thigh and then a sharp blow to his jaw.

  What the…?

  A blur of white. Of lavender ribbon. When his vision cleared, he saw her fiery eyes fading to a cooler green.

  Diving onto the ground, Logan rolled in the blood-stained dirt, reached out, and snatched up his sword. He swung it at the revitalized witch without restraint.

  She had the same idea. Sparking metal clanged as they fought it out in the circle. The witches cheered for her. The warlocks cheered even louder for him.

  Black heat, angry bloody heat, flooded his insides.

  Damn, you’re easy to play. No wonder Lily has such fun with you.

  He wanted victory so badly he could smell it. And this time it smelled like a poisoned Lily.

  With pure brute strength, he finally knocked her off balance and sent her to the ground. Before she could jump up, he straddled her and raised his sword over her heart.

  You’ve already lost, Logan.

  You’re the one on the ground.

  Familiar position for us, isn’t it?

  I’ve got you. Surrender, it’s over.

  You’d have to kill me first. And if you do that, she’ll never forgive you. Because she loves me.

  Logan’s eyes flashed with fury. Taking advantage of his distraction, the witch rolled out from under him. With a graceful twist, she rose high into the air—ten feet off the ground. Legs circling, suspended in space, she shot mesmerizing, ice-green darts out of her eyes. Then suddenly, she swooped down to kick him hard in the jaw. Levitation.

  He couldn’t believe his eyes.

  That damn witch had reached Jade; and this time, when he tried to stop her from gleaning his magic…he couldn’t.