Concentric Circles

by Aithne Jarretta

“Funded?”

  More laughter. “Yes. Conquering two of Syther’s runes weakens him. Like divine grace, a gift from above, you now have the power to defeat him. Go now. You and I will meet again soon.” Phoenix song filled the glen as the woman transformed and took flight toward the silvery moon.

  Onyx nudged her hand. She knelt and hugged her neck. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered into a black silky ear.

  A rumbling noise came from Onyx’s throat. Its sound had always amused Shayla because it soothed. Now, after her magical attunement, she understood the words. “I’m always by your side, even in spirit.”

  Shayla moved away, grateful and torn between the past and future at the same time. “I must go. Thank you for showing me the way.”

  A laughing bark was Onyx’s only response as she took off, running into the underbrush, most likely after a rabbit.

  The wind transported Shayla into the midst of battle. A strong body made impact with her, propelling her to the floor. A spell, casting a steel weapon end over end, just missed her, whistling past. The air pushed out of her lungs in a grunt. Going into instant defense, she didn’t realize at first who was on top of her. They struggled, her fist made contact with flesh. Then through the haze of confusion, scent took over. “Kal?”

  “Bloody hell, why’d you hit me?”

  She saw another curse coming their way. Like an electrical charge, it vibrated through the air. She rolled, pulling Meekal with her. They landed against the wall.

  “Oops.”

  The battle blended away. She could see it as though looking through the end of a tunnel, and then there were only stones. They arrived in a courtyard surrounded by high walls shimmered with moonlight.

  Meekal laughed and tugged her to stand.

  A jagged sensation rushed over her. “Kal?” She reached to his hair. Silver wings, shining in the moon’s brilliance, graced his temples. “What happened?”

  He sent exploring fingers. “What do you mean?”

  “Your hair. It’s silver.”

  He shrugged and pulled her around. An angry roar exploded on the scene. Syther raised his wand and yelled, “Malleolus!”

  Meekal deflected the fire dart and lunged toward another Thyrza. Shayla, CIARANLEXISS drawn, paused. “Ranger Rick?”

  Rick grunted and rolled under Meekal’s landing. They tussled amidst more flying fireballs and angry calls.

  “Whoa!” Shayla, still unaccustomed to magical combat jumped backward to avoid a flying star meant for killing.

  “Bout time you got here, bitch!” Dragar reached forward, wand at the ready even as he remained in constant movement.

  “I’ve been here, all a long.” Shayla spun fast and kicked the wand from Dragar’s hand. It flew against the stones and vanished.

  He roared and jumped for her, missed and landed head first in a fountain. She couldn’t resist smirking. “Naias.”

  The water trapped Dragar, sputtering and struggling, he was unable to climb out of his wet prison. Water formed bindings around his arms and legs. “Get me outta here!” The words came through wet and garbled.

  Syther, reached in to pull him out muttering under his breath. “Moon glow. How’s that happening?” He yanked hard. Dragar, dripping like a wet rat, came up out of the water, landing on his knees.

  “You’re worried about moon glow?” he growled. He stood, shook himself off, and pulled a dagger from his belt.

  “Power, you fool,” Syther said, sending his eyes around the courtyard.

  “Syther, your runes were easy,” Shayla said. “That’s why the moon is shining in your umbra. May the light shine forth. You are weakened.”

  A low cackling emanated from the wall. “Wisdom in simplicity,” Neveous said.

  Screams of panic pierced the night. Dragar began flailing. He froze, eyes wide, and then collapsed in a sodden heap on the cobblestones. As though having completed a task, Ranger Rick’s spider strutted from the wet mess and began a trek across the courtyard to freedom.

  Everyone watched, mesmerized by the eight-legged journey. Then, anger flared. Ranger Rick bristled. “You have failed!” Eyes locked on Syther, he pulled a gun and aimed. A shot rang out in accompaniment of more yelling. “Weak fool! Your incompetence is your downfall!”

  “Bullet!” Shayla stopped the speeding projectile midair. “Gun!” The weapon appeared in her hand.

  In the confusion, Syther tried to leave. Shayla caught him by the sleeve, binding him to the earth with her hematite. For added security, she held CIARANLEXISS against his heart. It was over.

  “Well done.” Neveous stood next to them, sharp blue eyes glistening.

  Meekal approached, dragging Rick bound in magical restraints. “Well, Neveous, what do you think we should do with this?” He sneered and gave his prisoner a rough shake.

  “The Staff of Life will hold them securely until they appear before the Brehons. Then justice will be done.” He passed a look between their captives and lifted the staff from the ground.

  The lion head grinned eerily. Ranger Rick, eyes wide with panic, began a slow absorption into the staff. The red hair on the top of his head danced in a night breeze just before disappearing.

  Syther went in next, silent, yet radiating hatred.

  “Will the Staff change them? I mean, will it make them less evil?”

  “No,” Neveous said. “That will never happen. It serves to hold them. I will turn them over to the Council. From there, a trial date will be set.”

  Relief spread over her. “Okay.” Meekal’s hand on her arm was comforting. She leaned into the sensation. “Now, are you going to tell me what happened to your hair?”

  Instead of Meekal answering, Neveous chuckled, and looked at him with approval. “Meekal has grown in power and wisdom. His sojourn into the walls of the castle taught him much. From this day forward, he wears the wings of a Mage.”

  “Oh,” Shayla said. “Will we be seeing you again?” It wasn’t until that moment that she realized the sun started its lighted journey in the eastern sky. Moonset past, a new day had begun.

  “Always. Meekal, don’t you think we should see to your guests inside? I’ll meet you there.” Eyes twinkling with the reflection of the morning sun, Neveous laughed. Magic glowed white around him as he winked, spun on his heel and blended into the morning sunrays.

  [23] Ascians: The Rarest Wizard

  “Awaken, my child,” Neveous said, giving the tapestry wrapping a gentle shake.

  Myra groaned and began to struggle against the confinement. “What’s this?”

  He chuckled. “You have been captured.”

  Myra swiveled her head to get a better view of him. “When did you get here?”

  “Oh, I have been here for quite some time. Are you reasonably comfortable?”

  “Get me out of this rug.”

  “Technically,” Meekal said, entering the chamber. “It’s a tapestry—not a rug.”

  Neveous gave his head a brief shake and nudged the tapestry with the end of his staff.

  Her wide violet eyes stared up at Meekal.

  “You are under arrest,” Neveous said firmly. “Your crime is conspiracy. Meekal, please see to your gentleman friend over there.”

  “With pleasure,” Meekal said, smirking down at Steve. He snapped his fingers. Steve groaned and moved as though to sit. “Not yet. Easy,” Meekal said, reaching behind and pulling a small vial of elixir out of a back pocket. “Drink this. You injured yourself when you tried to wind-ride out. That’s why I turned you to stone. The magic held the pain and injury in a time loop.”

  Steve glared ineffectively, but accepted the healing potion. He swallowed roughly, and then pulled himself up with a groan. “Where are we?”

  “You’re still at Shadow Run,” Meekal said, pocketing the empty vial. “Soon you’ll be transported to Bierton Crossing to await trial.”

  “I haven’t done anything.”

  “Currently you’re being charged with conspiracy. Pending investigation, the c
harges can be amended to murder.”

  “I didn’t kill anyone,” Steve said sneering, the expression twisting his port-wine stain grotesquely.

  “Adam Michael Montclair.”

  Steve paled, knees acquiring newfound shakiness.

  “Ah, thought you’d remember.”

  “Be that as it may,” Neveous said, bracing the Staff of Life before him. “It’s time to be taken into custody. Steve, join your friends within the staff.”

  “No!” he screeched, hands moving in ineffective agitation. His body wavering in protest as it began to be absorbed into the staff, he fought every inch of the way, his voice echoing terror, and finally dissipating into nothingness.

  “Next?” Meekal said, indicating Myra.

  Myra backed away. “Wait a minute. This is a mistake.”

  The call of an osprey filled the chamber and Neveous transformed. The White Lady now held the Staff of Life. “For now, my child, you must join your friends.”

  “No. I didn’t do anything. You know that.”

  The White Lady smiled. “Aye. I do.”

  “But then why go into the staff?” she asked, clearly frightened.

  Meekal stepped forward, frowning. “Why were you looking for the Circular Chamber?”

  Myra set her jaw, light flickered across her features, marking the plains of her face. “How do you know about that?”

  “You’ll find that I know quite a bit about what goes on in this castle.”

  “Then you know the Circular Chamber is a magical portal to another realm.”

  “That requires a blood sacrifice. What were you planning?” Meekal stepped closer, confining Myra between the stone wall and his rigid body. “Well?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Myra, it’s time.” The White Lady pointed the lion head toward her.

  “I’m innocent! You know that! Why would you do this?”

  “‘Tis for the best.” The staff glowed with a purple aura and took Myra into its form without the previous struggle of its other inmates.

  “I’d like to know why you took her at that instant,” Meekal said, rounding on the White Lady with fiery determination in his stance and gaze.

  “You have gained much wisdom during your journey through the stones. A Mage now.”

  Meekal set his jaw.

  “You won’t be seeing Myra again. She will do her duty, serve the greater good and testify under cloaked identity. Then she will be released to continue her good work elsewhere.”

  “She was a spy.”

  “Aye.”

  He moved forward. “You sent her to the same place as Syther? Won’t he find out?”

  “While the staff may appear to be one of the ‘same place’ that is merely an earthly illusion. I believe you understand the multi-facetted aspects of magic now. Am I right?”

  “Aye. I have learned much.”

  “Then rest easy, Meekal. Myra will be fine.”

  Meekal’s gaze dropped to the empty tapestry. The face looking up at him from the artwork radiated triumph from the catch, which ended in a successful foxhunt. “All right, if you promise me.”

  She laughed gently. “It’s a promise. I’m glad to see you still look out for others.”

  “It’s a gift.”

  “What’s a gift?” Shayla asked, striding in.

  “Meekal’s penchant for being a guardian,” the White Lady replied.

  “Aye, that he is,” Shayla said with pride and reached to caress a silver wing that now graced the side of Meekal’s head. “He is a love, isn’t he?” A quick kiss and she shifted to a more business-like demeanor. “The surrounding forest is cleared of Gnomonn. Vince is with Gail in the front courtyard. We have twelve more of Syther’s minions to turn over to Neveous. Where is he? I thought he was in here with you retrieving the two you captured while still in the wall?”

  “Ahem. Well,” Meekal said, grinning. “Neveous is still here.” He turned Shayla to face the White Lady.

  “Bugger.”

  “TRICKY, TRICKY, TRICKY.” CIARANLEXISS said, chuckling. “HOW COULD HE HEAR ME, IF NOT OF DIVINE ORIGIN?”

  “Let’s go,” Meekal said. “You can figure it out as we walk. I’d like to see some of the castle and its grounds from this side of the stone façade.”

  “Shall we walk then?” The White Lady indicated the door with the Staff. “After you.”

  “You aren’t going to shift shape again, are you?” Shayla looked as though she wouldn’t believe even the truth.

  “You know I can read that look, right?”

  “Pfft.”

  She laughed. “You are a delight to work with, my dear.”

  “Bet you tell all the witches that.”

  “Now that you mention it.”

  “Ladies, can we go now?” Meekal clasped Shayla’s hand and gave it a tug.

  * * * * * *

  A return to the sunlight surrounding Shadow Run revealed the sky cleared of menacing darkness. Even the shadows beneath the garden trees dappled with life. “Wow, it’s great to see something you thought never to witness again.” Meekal tilted his head back as far as comfortable and stared at the sky’s majesty.

  “Couldn’t you see outside from the inner walls?”

  “Aye, I could, but everything was gloomy and black. Why look?”

  “Good to see you’re safe,” Gail said, stepping away from the group of Adjutors guarding the Thyrza wizards and witches awaiting their incarceration within the Staff.

  Meekal shook her hand and eyed Vince over her shoulder. “Vince?” He inclined his head toward the back courtyard wall.

  “Sure,” Vince answered, moving around Gail.

  “Wanted to talk,” Meekal said, and indicated a long stone bench placed against the southern wall. A large fountain, water spilling from the jugs of several Greek inspired women, blocked the view of Adjutors and prisoners. “When I was in the wall, I saw some things.”

  Vince sat, placed palms on his knees and faced the water, jaw set firmly.

  “Malvenue.”

  Silence.

  “And you.”

  Vince swallowed roughly.

  “Vince.”

  “What do you want me to say, Kal? Answer unspoken questions? Write a tell all book? No. You know what you know. I’m here on the right side. Do you doubt me? Is that what this is about? Trust?”

  Meekal shoved his hand through tangled hair and gnawed on his lower lip. “I want to trust you. Why didn’t you ever tell? About Malvenue and Syther?”

  Anger raged across Vince’s expression. The powerful emotion projected from every pore, compelling Vince upward like a wrathful warrior. “What do you think I told? Are you prying into personal ground? Just because you don’t know something doesn’t mean I didn’t report!” Vince stopped speaking, the words caught in the air like jagged flames between them. “Damn you! You were a kid! There’s a hell of a lot you didn’t get—just because of that!”

  “Vince.” Meekal moved closer. “I understand about the witch’s grass elixir. It was a good move.” He hesitated, and then reached to pat Vince on the shoulder.

  Vince growled and pulled away. “Why dredge this up if you understand?”

  “It’s just part in parcel of what I witnessed. I saw you with Malvenue, Nott, Grimm and Syther. You were all together—an integral part of Malvenue’s inner circle. Why didn’t you report that Syther was there? An important part of the inner workings.”

  Vince turned away, refusing to hold his gaze.

  Meekal flinched, a seed of doubt growing large in his gut. “Vince.”

  “Is there a problem?” Gail asked, coming around the large fountain. She glanced between them, and then gestured toward the other Adjutors. “Strange, I could hear yelling but didn’t understand the words.” She locked eyes with Meekal. “Well?”

  Meekal crossed his arms across his chest and glared. “Aye, there’s a problem. However,” he said, pulling his brows down hard. “It’s strictly between Vince and me. Hence the m
uffling charm. Would you excuse us?”

  “Do I have to pull rank on you, Meekal?” Gail stiffened, waiting for his answer.

  “Gail.” Vince’s voice stopped on the edge of tension.

  “Pulling rank won’t change my response, Lieutenant Graham,” Meekal said stubbornly. “I have an issue I prefer to speak to Vince privately about. It doesn’t concern the Order of Adjutors or you at the current moment. Excuse us.”

  Gail turned to Vince. “Are you fine with this, Vince? What’s your side of the story?”

  The cloud of anger remained on Vince’s face although he nodded curtly. “I’m fine. I’ll talk to you later, all right?”

  Immobile she studied his face and body language. “Fifteen minutes.”

  Vince coughed. “Whatever you say.”

  One last glare at Meekal, she turned sharply and strode around the fountain.

  When she reached the other side, Meekal upped the amps on the charm, adding a louder sound of water falling to improve the buffer. “Syther. Why didn’t you tell?”

  “You assume I didn’t.”

  He shook his head, a deep penetrating sadness threatening to overwhelm him. In order to calm his emotions, he spoke low. “You surely must know I came out of the wall a changed person. I know and understand things that would twist you mind, Vince. One of those changes is that I can read your soul.”

  His large hands clenching and opening, Vince sat on the bench. He gave Meekal a brief eye contact, and then he pulled his gaze away as though the stone garden path beneath his feet proved an interesting work of art.

  “You have a void.”

  Vince wore the look of a marble statue, features unmoving into frozen dejection. “I don’t believe you,” he whispered.

  Meekal approached. He stepped to the left, eyed Vince and then glanced toward the morning sunlight coming from the other side of the fountain. “You have a void. It’s true. What does having no shadow have to do with Syther?”

  “I have a shadow.”

  “No you don’t.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “The argument is futile, Vincent.” He inflected his voice with purpose, allowing it to drip with sensual overtones the way Malvenue’s came across when he spoke.