by Kathy Dexter
“I guess we’ll have to discover that for ourselves,” Riley said. “At the moment we have more immediate concerns.”
“You mean the recent threats.”
“The Gyld has information that the thieves will strike again. Soon.”
“What do they want?”
“The keys to magic.” Riley’s voice was grim. “We’re not sure why, but we have to stop them before the innocent are threatened.”
The room tipped sideways. What trouble had Hunter stumbled into? The urge to flee, to hide someplace safe, overwhelmed her.
Riley’s gaze bored into Hunter. “I tried running away. It doesn’t work.”
“Mind linking?” Hunter put her hands over her ears as if she could keep people out of her head by doing so.
“Not without your permission. A few years ago, I had the same panicky look I see in your eyes. When my world rocked out of control, I looked for a rabbit hole, a cave, anywhere I could hide. The boogey man still tracked me down. I’ll tell you about it later.”
Hunter warmed to this cousin. How had Riley handled such overwhelming circumstances?
“You’re wondering why I didn’t crack under the pressure.” Riley leaned close. “I found the toughness, the courage, to fight when it counted. And so will you.”
Me? I’m not Syrena. Hunter’s lack of confidence kept her silent, not wanting Riley to know she couldn’t match her cousin’s bravery.
Riley picked up one of the books. “Thank the cosmic spirits you saved these. Most contain the beliefs and practices of our ancestors.”
Hunter pointed to the Grimm volume. “Why would someone want to steal a book of fairy tales?”
“Where Mary Hawthorne hid her journal?”
Hunter blinked. “You know?”
“The Gyld has eyes––and ears––everywhere.”
“That’s unnerving.”
“It’s vital we have a network of information, Hunter. Too much is at stake. If those thieves had escaped with the knowledge in these books, people––even different planes of existence––could be destroyed.”
“That sounds frightening. Appalling.”
“That and a lot more.”
“You think the Gyld can function with only elderly relatives and you?”
Barely suppressing laughter, Riley shook a finger at Hunter. “Age has nothing to do with competency. As those doddering old women would tell you before sending you swooshing away in some kind of tornado-like wind.”
“I didn’t mean to insult your grandmother and her sisters.” Hunter’s face flushed with worry. “But protecting the wisdom and rituals of the Ancients seems a pretty big task for the Gyld.”
Riley covered her mouth, obviously trying to contain giggles which still managed to escape. “You really should meet the Ronan sisters. Their expertise with the paranormal is far greater and more advanced than ours.”
“Three women, four counting you, against those who would steal the skill in these books? Terrifying.”
“Bloodcurdling for those who would dare confront Aunt Lilith and her Warriors.” Riley’s chin lifted, her eyes blazing. “The Gyld has hundreds, perhaps thousands, in the clan, spread throughout this community and others. All working, some undercover, to preserve the magic of our ancestors.”
Hunter was relieved. “Quite the safety net.”
“Maybe. Too many enemies, a few identified, others hiding behind a mask to conceal their true intentions.”
“How does my grandmother’s journal fit into all this? It’s just a book of recipes.”
“More than that.” Riley stood and paced the small space around the table. “Have you read everything she wrote?”
“I can’t.”
“Because the words are unrecognizable.”
“How––?”
“The journal is probably a grimoire.”
“Grimoire?” Hunter vaguely remembered running across the word in her research.
“A sacred textbook of spells and incantations written in an archaic language. Once translated and understood, such magic could control all realms of the metaphysical universe.”
“My grandmother’s journal could be a terrible weapon in the wrong hands.” Hunter’s fear rose. “Why not destroy grimoires to prevent them from being using for evil?”
“Then we wipe out all the wisdom, the healing powers, our ancestors passed on to us. And leave ourselves and future generations defenseless if the enemy finds another way to access the magic.”
Like throwing out the proverbial baby with the bath water. Hunter understood, but she couldn’t quite quell a sweeping tide of fear. “So the Gyld has to find a way to preserve its heritage and prevent catastrophe at the same time.”
Tears glistened in Riley’s eyes. “My mother was murdered when she fought to keep another grimoire safe. And have you considered that the grimoire from Mary Hawthorne might contain a spell that would lead to your mother? And your memories?”
The gray mesh curtain in Hunter’s brain stretched tight like the skin across the top of a tribal drum. The throbbing became an unbearable, piercing, knife-sharp screech.
Hunter grabbed both sides of her head and screamed in agony.
Merciful black oblivion wrapped around her.
CHAPTER 19
W HITE INCANDESCENT BEAMS zipped in and out, dissolving the murky gloom enshrouding Hunter. Consciousness dawdled, slow and sluggish, but managed to push her awake at last.
“Mmmf.” Her eyelids fluttered like butterfly wings caught on sticky tape. Then her heart quivered with panic.
Someone’s hand brushed strands of hair away from her face.
She was cradled in Riley’s arms. “You’re safe.”
A tongue licked along Hunter’s chin. Shadow. How did the cat get in here? The blue and green eyes seemed to spin in dizzying colored circles.
Hunter struggled to sit up. “How long was I out?”
The cat leaped to the table, curled on top of one of the books, but kept those strange eyes on Hunter.
“A couple of minutes.” Riley put a hand on Hunter’s forehead. “You seem to be okay. What do you remember?”
“Ear-splitting pain. Blackness.”
“All gone now?”
“A few shreds remain, taking their own sweet time evaporating.” Hunter inhaled several lungfuls of air. “Like last time, only more intense.”
“Last time?”
The memory stirred. “I touched my father’s bones.”
Riley stared. “When I mentioned my mother’s death and the grimoire, you passed out.”
“Logan said my father had been murdered––like your mother.” Tiny icicles chilled Hunter’s skin. “You think I fainted because I couldn’t handle the idea of someone going around killing parents?”
“Oh, you did more than faint. I suspect when you come close to remembering what happened to you and your parents ten years ago, the spell in your head knocks you out.”
Hunter groaned. “How do I stop it?”
“Clarissa’s apples didn’t work.” Riley pulled out an amulet, a duplicate of Hunter’s, except the dragon was white. “This helped you come around. Maybe it can have an effect on the spell.”
She placed the dragon in Hunter’s hand. White sparkles, like a scattering of glitter, heated Hunter’s palm, then flowed along her arms and upward to neck and face. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted flashing specks dancing along strands of red-gold hair. Phosphorescent flares evaporated the chunks of inky darkness that lingered from unconsciousness. Her memories, however, had not been restored.
Hunter handed back the amulet. “Your dragon cleared my head, but the spell is still in place.”
“And your dragon couldn’t get rid of it either.”
“No. How does your amulet work?”
“I still have more experimenting to do. The white dragon can heal and protect. It has merged its potency with other magical forces, and with me. Yours?”
Hunter raised her amulet and stared at the carving that
had become an integral part of her. “I don’t think I’ve tested it enough, either.”
“I’ll stop by the cottage later and we can explore what our amulets can do. See if the two dragons can somehow vaporize that spell.” Riley helped Hunter to her feet. “Logan’s outside keeping watch. I’ll have him take you home to rest.”
The cat squawked from its perch on the table.
Somehow Hunter understood. She clutched Riley’s wrist. “Wait. We have to keep the books safe from another attempt by those thieves. I want to help.”
“You sure you want to get involved?”
No, she wasn’t. Nervous but determined, Hunter fingered the sapphire amber of her own dragon. “Tell me what to do.”
“When the Hawthornes built this museum, they included hidden passageways and secret rooms. Finding one of those concealed spaces is crucial.” Riley pressed her dragon against Hunter’s. “Guess we’ll be seeing how our dragons perform together after all.”
Light blossomed from the two amulets. Like a mirrored ball in a dance hall, white baubles of luminescence blended with sapphire sparkles and then shimmered around the two women.
Shadowy figures floated among the twinkling lights flickering around the room. Some were human in shape, stuck in a giant spider web floating on a lake. A large, nebulous boat billowed, ballooned, blew apart. A swirling maelstrom sucked everything down, down, down. Only a woman’s hand remained, extended, offering a dragon amulet the moment before churning waters pulled her under.
Hunter gasped and swayed to one side, but strong arms supported her. She blinked a couple of times until Riley’s face came into focus.
“I should have made you go home,” Riley murmured.
“Guess I’m too stubborn.” Hunter’s laugh was a tad shaky. “I’m okay. Let’s get on with it.”
“Did you see a woman’s hand holding out a dragon?”
“You saw it, too?”
“A rotating image. First, the blue dragon was offered to you, then a white one to me. How did you get your amulet?”
“I don’t know. It was around my neck when I woke up in the hospital ten years ago. What about you?”
“A gift from my mother.”
“You think my mother could have given mine to me? Before she. . .died?”
“Based on what we just saw, a possibility. You have to find a way to unlock those memories and find the truth. For now, we’ll take care of the books.”
Riley pressed the white dragon, sent a beam of light toward the door, and transformed it into a solid surface without seams. No one could enter. Or leave.
“That should safeguard the books while we find the hidden room. Join your dragon’s essence with mine.”
Hunter pressed the sapphire amulet.
Fire spewed from the mouths of the carved winged serpents. A shaft of blue fire joined with white flames. Iridescent lights crisscrossed the ceiling and framed a bookcase at the back of the room with a haloed beacon.
Both women sprinted toward the glow.
Hunter clutched the metal shelf. “We can’t budge this. It’s attached to the wall.”
“Start removing the books.” Riley cleared half a row and placed the volumes off to one side on the floor.
Hunter did the same with the rest.
They exposed pine paneling, but no door.
Riley tapped the paneling. “Doesn’t sound hollow.”
“Let me try.” Hunter aimed the sapphire dragon at the wall and concentrated. Blue light splashed against the wood, then zoomed into one of the wooden knots, revealing a button the same brownish hue.
Hunter pushed against it.
A click, a thump, and a whirr sounded behind the sheetrock. To the right of the bookcase, a door slid open, exposing stairs that descended into murky darkness.
“A flashlight would come in handy,” Hunter said.
Riley grinned. “I have one.” The white dragon shot a beam into the darkness. “Come on!” She disappeared into the abyss.
Hunter clutched the staircase railing with clammy hands and took a few hesitant steps down steep, spiraling stairs. She lost her footing, floundered, and caught herself against jagged stone walls. At last she stumbled to the bottom.
Dragon light cast an eerie brightness on the walls and floors, reflecting from shiny objects and a variety of glass surfaces scattered about the surprisingly large room.
Hunter grasped her dragon with shaking fingers. Its warmth spread through her. At the same time, the amulet tugged her toward a distant corner.
On the floor, a dark cloth draped across an oblong shape. Hunter tentatively raised an edge and peeked underneath. She pulled off the covering to expose a rectangular, wooden container about the size of a shoebox. Carvings of elves, mermaids, and winged horses meandered around the four sides. Across the arched top, a chiseled sapphire dragon expelled sculpted purple flames. Despite aged-bronze hinges on each corner, the box was one solid block of wood.
Riley hoisted four rectangular paintings. “With a little magic, these should do the job. Can you carry a couple?”
“Sure.” Hunter tucked the pendant inside her shirt, shifted the lightweight box under her arm, and clutched two of the frames with her other hand as she followed Riley up the winding staircase.
The white dragon, dangling from Riley’s neck, continued to light their way. At the top, she peeked out the door and scanned the library. “Still empty. Except for Shadow. Our seal held.”
They hurried to the table brimming with the rescued books. The cat vaulted to the floor and disappeared among the dimness at the back of the library.
Hunter put the ornate box on a chair. “What now?”
“Watch.” Riley flung the four paintings, one after the other, toward empty spaces on the walls above the bookshelves. Luminous shafts from the white dragon guided the framed artwork through the air and fastened them to the walls.
Riley raised her arms, palms upward. She crooned an eerie melody that thrummed inside Hunter:
Relics from the olden times,
Charmed by age-old hallowed rhymes,
Mask yourselves from evil’s sight
With the dragons’ fiery light.
Silver flames erupted from the white dragon and spread across the books on the table, not burning them, but compressing and condensing each into a tiny miniature. They floated upward on silver mist which then branched to each targeted picture frame. In the first painting, the books scattered across mermaid scales. In the second, they melted into flames spouting from a dragon’s mouth. The third transformed the teeny volumes into gnomes and nymphs hiding among the bushes in a woodland scene. The last batch sailed into the painting of a stormy sky, merging with the winds.
“They’re safe?” Hunter whispered.
“Once we bind them to the canvas with the magic of our dragons.” Riley raised her amulet, surrounding each painting with glowing rays.
Hunter did the same with her sapphire pendant. Blue incandescence overlapped white. A flash of phosphorescence lit up the four elements of nature––water, fire, earth and air––then faded into nothingness, leaving the paintings as though they’d never been touched.
“Time to get out of here.” Riley led the way to the library exit.
Hunter touched Riley’s shoulder. “Shouldn’t I bring my grandmother’s journal here? If it’s really a grimoire, wouldn’t it be safer hidden with the other books?”
“Probably. But the Gyld has been told that the journal contains the spell to remove the dark enchantment concealing your memories,” Riley said. “Nothing else has worked––not Clarissa’s magic, mine, both of our amulets.”
“Can’t the Gyld read the book and find an incantation I can use? I don’t like being responsible for something so valuable to your heritage. And what if those desperate men come after the grimoire again? What if I can’t protect it?”
“The Gyld discussed that at some length with an. . .enlightened source who indicated the Ancients have chosen you to access the
grimoire’s secrets. You have the key to find not only the spell to reveal your past, but to uncover those who murdered your family.”
What?! “How can the Ancients choose me? Across time?”
Riley’s eyes glowed with an odd light. “The answer is in the grimoire.”
A block of ice seemed to center within Hunter, freezing her senses and clouding her thinking. All this seemed far beyond reality, beyond comprehension. How could she possibly be expected to handle this situation? The Gyld knew so much more than she did, had skills exceedingly superior to hers.
“Puts a great burden on you.” Riley’s smile contained sympathy. “I know, I’ve been there. This seems the only path we have. You have people who will do what they can to back you, protect you, fight with you.” With a wave of her hand, the barrier was gone. She opened the door and stepped into the hallway.
Shadow slipped out of the room and sprinted into the gloom.
Logan moved from behind a pillar. “You two done?”
Riley nodded. “How about you?”
“The Gyld finished grilling Clarissa and me about half an hour ago. I was directed to stand guard until you completed your task. Whatever that might be.”
“Not for me to tell you, Logan. It’s getting late and I have a hungry family waiting.”
“What about this?” Hunter extended her hand, which held the box. “I don’t want to take any chances on thieves or protestors coming out of the woods.”
“The Gyld has installed shields around the cottage, and the mirror will send out a signal if anyone trespasses,” Riley told her.
“I won’t be able to keep watch at night for a while,” Logan said.
“We’re aware of your stakeout.” Riley’s eyes twinkled with humor. “Someone will take your place outside the cottage.”
“Is that necessary if the shields are in place?” Hunter asked.
“Once you’re asleep, will you hear the alarms or the mirror?” Logan said. “And what if someone who can turn off a museum’s security system has a way to disarm the shields? Always good to have a human on site.”
“I think we’ve covered all the possibilities.” Riley handed Hunter a scrap of paper. “Here’s my number. Feel free to call me anytime.” She gave Hunter a hug. “You have your dragon and time to work on the box.”