I know my colleagues here in this lab silently believed I possessed a magical force to be reckoned with, and it was only at this moment of time; this pristine moment of gratitude that I believed in their belief. I was ready to stand by my friends. I was ready to fight. I felt my power, and I was beginning to hope that I could put it to good use. I wanted to be instrumental in helping to save the Coven Isles, possibly the world.
That’s why I was here at Gaunt Manor today: for my induction into the Custodians. Well, that, and getting the kitties fitted with the most scientifically advanced metal headgear known to man. If we were to fight a dragon (or two) -- and that seemed to be where we were heading right now -- then the cats would need protection. Yes, the Infiniti are immortal, but Dragonfire happens to be the only weapon that could potentially end their otherwise neverending lives. Orville Nugget’s dragonsteel offering was the only hope my kitties had against the fiery breath of a newly awoken dragon. I had faith in the awkward teen’s abilities, though. After all, Orville’s the sole inventor of the toughest and most cutting-edge cauldron on the market: The Futura 2. If anyone knows metal and its inherent properties, it’s young Nugget.
“I know I sound ungrateful,” Fraidy’s murmur startled me from my thoughts.
“Yes.” Carbon said, his ears twitching. “You do sound ungrateful, brother. Orville’s been working all night to get your noggin kitted up.”
“Well, I’m grateful for LOTS of things, thanks very much!” Fraidy snapped. Goddess, he was tense. “I’m grateful that my head isn’t the size of a mutant pumpkin, for starters!” He glared at Carbon’s ample skull.
My fire-starting cat just smirked at his timid sibling. “Well, we’re all happy we don’t have a brain the size of a lentil, bro.”
Fraidy strained at my chest, digging his claws into my shoulders in an effort to throw himself at his antagonizing brother.
“That’s enough!” With Fraidy in my arms still, I whirled toward my kitties. “I know everyone is feeling strained; I get it. But I don’t think fighting among ourselves is going to help much. We have enough of a battle going on outside this little outfit here without having to deal with contention on the inside.”
“You’re just agreeing with him because you’re a whiner too,” Gloom said, casting a baleful glare at me. “And I don’t know why you’re looking at me like that because you know it’s true. If it weren’t, you’d have inducted yourself into the Custodians a long time ago.”
“I beg your pardon?” I put Fraidy down on the floor and took one pace toward my confrontational she-kitty. The rest of the Infiniti looked on with gigantic eyes.
“Why are you acting so surprised?” Gloom scoffed. “Just a week ago you were all ‘No, no, I can’t join the Custodians. Oh, goodness, no, my powers are so weak!’” She placed her paws under her chin in mock damsel-in-distress terror.
I offered Gloom a weary smile and walked over to her. I tickled her behind her ears. “I agree,” I said.
Gloom’s purr cut off almost as soon as it started. “You agree?” Her face looked comical in its confusion.
I continued tickling her ears. “I do. You’re right.”
Shade hopped up on the table and placed a paw on my forearm. He looked up at me. “Old news, boss-lady,” he said. “I love you from the bottom of my paws to the tips of my ears, you know that, but this …fire incident. It’s stale. It’s old news. It’s … wait, what? You agree? You agree you’ve been stuck in a nearly twenty-year excuse to not grow as a human?”
“Well, I’m not sure I’d go that far, buddy, I’m just --”
Onyx, the self-appointed leader of my group of eight, cleared his throat. “I believe what my siblings are trying to say, dear Hattie, is this is the time for you to evolve. These times require it of you, in fact.”
“Yep, yep, so there’s no confusion; evolution’s the solution to the Warlock pollution, yep.” Jet sprang upward on all four paws, nearly hitting his head on the low ceiling of the lab. He’d been freshly dosed on catnip, so his enthusiasm in all things was at an all-time high. “Wow! Yep, Jet made a poem, Jet made a poem, yep, yep.”
I looked at my cats in turn. “Listen, guys; I don’t think you’re hearing me. I’m telling you I --”
“You’re stuck?” Eclipse said. “Yes, we know.” ‘Clipsy pierced me with his unreadable gaze. The most enigmatic member of the Infiniti family, the workings of Eclipse’s mind is a never-ending puzzle.
But what was more puzzling right now was my clowder of kitties’ behavior. Didn’t they hear me when I said Gloom was right?
“Yeah, c’mon lady, you need to get real now. It’s time.”
“Gloom, honey, I agree. I just told you that.” I whirled around to face all my cats. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you guys. So I’m not sure--”
“We just want to be sure that you’ll no longer hide behind your victimhood, and that you’ll cast aside the need to be seen as weaker than you are. We know it’s scary to take a leap of faith into being your own true self. There is likely not one humanoid alive that hasn’t felt the brutality of self-sabotage. I’m sure I don’t know how you tolerate such a weakness.”
“Uh, thanks, O,” I mumbled.
Midnight bumped his head into my shin. He looked up at me. “Love you, boss-lady,” he began. “Me, the bro’s, and sis know what’s going on with you. You think if you’re not strong enough, not brave enough, not good enough...well, it makes it easier to stay outta sight, stuck in your deep groove, you know?” My night-wandering cat gave me a sheepish smile. “There ain’t no risk in being a victim.”
I was starting to feel a little exasperated. And I felt more than a little exposed. “Guys, what on earth … I’m trying to tell you --”
Carbon cleared his throat. “Because victimhood doesn’t permit you to grow, move, evolve or progress. Instead, it keeps you inert, locked in position, safe from fully interacting with the world.”
“Yeah, I know, Carbs. I think you’ve all --”
“What’s this, tough love?” David’s voice came from the doorway. He had his arms crossed, leaning against the door frame. He looked strained, but he still managed a quizzical smile.
Gotta say, it was embarrassing being labeled a fraud in front of the man who I only ever aimed to impress.
I let out a feeble chuckle. “They’re driving a point home, I guess.”
“Hat, listen to them. They know what they’re talking about, and they also know how to get the best from you.”
Gloom trotted over to my friend, and in a rare display of affection, she rubbed her cheek against David’s shin. “Trew Love makes sense for once,” she said.
The chief gave me a sheepish grin and shrugged.
I held up my hands in surrender then. “Guys, I don’t know if you’re hearing me, but I AGREE with you.” Going for broke now, I rather bravely faced my furry accusers. “I hid. Plain and simple. Because … well, because I was scared, alright? I am scared.”
Without words, the Infiniti gathered around me, nudging their heads against me, purring.
“See how truthful vulnerability will always win over inauthenticity?” Onyx opined, curling his tail around my arm. “We just wanted to be sure that you’re occupying the right headspace now.” I bent down and kissed my chief-cat’s face.
“What’s ‘vulnerbicity?’” Shade asked, cocking his head to one side. “Is that, like, when you’re being truthful, even though you look like a bit of an idiot for doing it?”
Everyone laughed.
“Exactly, Shadester,” I said, rubbing his head. “Are you saying I look like an idiot?”
“Aw, boss-lady, you’re my favorite idiot human, like, ever.”
A dark figure swept into the doorway next to David. The sallow, pinched face of the Witch Fearwyn peered into the room. “What’s this, some kind of love-in?” She said in her no-nonsense way. “If we’re done with sharing the feelies, I believe we’re ready outside for you now, Hattie.” Portia Fearwyn didn’t
give anyone the chance to argue; she just disappeared in a streak of flowing black robe.
“You ready for this?” David asked. He looked at me, his eyes serious over his John Lennon glasses. I noticed, not for the first time, how tired he looked.
I tried for brightness, and quipped: “No time like the present!”
Orville tugged at my elbow. “You’ll do fine,” the young alchemist assured me. “You’re ready for this. And once we’re done I’ll get to work on Fraidy’s helmet. We’ll have his head covered in no time.” Orville walked past me and through the door after Portia. The Infiniti trotted after him, Fraidy taking up the rear.
This was it then. In a few minutes I’d be a fully-fledged member of the Custodians, and I’d be expected to help in all ways possible to eliminate the Warlock threat.
David took me by the elbow. “I’m proud of you, Hat,” he said. “Shall we?”
I felt the tingle of his words penetrate my nerve endings, but I quickly realized it was actually my phone vibrating in my pocket. I fished it out while David raised his eyebrows in question.
My own brow furrowed when I saw the caller i.d. “It’s Reverend Peacefield,” I said, looking up at the chief. “Well, I think our dear Thaddeus can wait an hour or so for a callback, yeah?”
I nodded. Whatever Gless Inlet’s holy man wanted could hold for a little while. I made a mental note to return his call straight after the ceremony. My induction. I felt nervous, yes. But I felt a warmth inside me that needed no analysis. It told me I’m ready for this.
And, I am.
I’m ready.
Chapter Two
“I, Hattie Jenkins do solemnly --”
“Full name, please,” Portia said looking up from what seemed like an ancient grimoire.
“I, Hattie Rose --”
“And by full name, I mean birth name.”
I rolled my eyes.
Believe me; I wasn’t joking when I said I was committed to this cause. I felt it in my heart this time. But, I don’t know, pomp and ceremony made me uncomfortable. It just seemed so hokey, you know?
“I, Seraphim Rose Joyvive, do ….” I trailed off. Uttering the name I was born with, but never actually used, was hard. My parents had called me Seraphim. As the name implies, an angel of the highest order. The fact that my birth kept my father from having to enlist in the Coven Isles Military service at the height of the Warlock cold war, spurred my parents to furnish me with such a lofty title. To them, I was their guardian angel. At the time, a newborn was about the only circumstance that would permit a man of fighting age to stay home with his family.
Although I had now turned a corner with this joining the Custodian’s thing, speaking my birth name made me feel like a fraud.
Portia snapped the grimoire shut and narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you going to stand there like a precious lemon or are you going to take this seriously?”
“I - I, of course, yes.” I stammered. I cleared my throat, and straightened my spine, looking at the small circle of already inducted Custodians.
“Good. Let’s try this again shall we?” The Witch Fearwyn opened her ancient handbook once more, obviously following some archaic guideline for good-guy ceremonies.
“I, Seraphim Rose Joyvive, do --”
“What’s that?” Fraidy interrupted.
“What?” We answered in chorus, our heads swerving toward my cat.
“That!” He struck a paw at a segment of the sky between Gaunt Manor and the patch of ceremonial ground where we all stood. All heads turned to where my scaredy-cat’s claw pointed.
At first, I couldn’t see anything; the darkening sky was already in turmoil from the seriously plump and bruised clouds scudding across its expanse. But then a small shape; swift, nimble, black and glittering flew into view. It almost looked like a diamond. But a diamond the size of, say, a large orange. A sickly green light surrounded the object. It hovered, perfectly still for a second, and then with mercurial speed, it darted toward us and came to a complete stop about ten feet above the ground, and no less than twenty feet before us. I took a step toward it.
Portia dropped the grimoire to the ground. “Get behind me.” She barely whispered her command, and everyone remained dumbly rooted in position. “Now!” She bellowed.
The Infiniti, David, me, Hinrika Jonsdottir, and Verdantia Eyebright; we all sprinted behind Portia, just as she pulled out her Cherrywood wand.
Orville remained on the spot, staring up at the curious device. His inner scientist couldn’t resist this strange anomaly, I guess.
“What is that?” He mused, stepping closer to the furiously spinning object. The green light pulsed brighter with every revolution of its obsidian body.
“Orville Nugget, you will get behind me this instant if you know what’s good for you,” Portia said, starting toward the boy, and leaving us without the Coven Isles most potent witch as our ‘wonderwall’ protector between us and the strange artifact.
Orville didn’t listen, however. The young alchemist stood rapt, already lifting himself on tiptoes for a better view of the curiously glowing gem. “Looks like Black Diamond,” he said, squinting up at the stone.
Without notice, the putrid light flashed, then arced in a blinding light of violent green toward all compass points.
“Wands!” Portia screamed. “Now!”
Everything happened in slow motion. Except for the beat of my heart, of course. It felt thick with blood, its rhythm erupting into a haywire beat so loud it threatened to pierce my eardrums. Because that’s where your life-giving rhythm flees to in moments of acute stress. That’s how close you are to your spiritual and life-giving center when your chips are suddenly down. You’re so near to your soul in these horrendous and frightening moments, in fact, that your heart is all you can hear, feel or sense.
I sucked in a ragged breath of air, and in one fell swoop, I had my applewood wand pointing at the spinning object. From the corner of my eye, I saw my fellow Custodians in the same wand-wielding stance; faces and rods confronting the spinning diamond, eyes squinting at the sickly illumination. The cats dropped to their bellies and slinked their way over to my feet on cautious haunches. Fraidy was on my head before I could blink.
“When I say, we’re going to cast Geodysia,” Portia instructed, not taking her eyes off the transfixed Orville and the spinning gem. “But, right this second, you are all going to create, between you, one full circle in the earth below your feet. It doesn’t have to be perfect, it just needs to be done right away, and you need to ensure the circle is unbroken. Understand?” She looked back to check our understanding. We nodded dumbly. “When we cast, we are going to direct the spell above our heads, above that circle you inscribe. NOT at the device. Got it?”
Ooh, I itched to ask a question about this last bit of intel; you know, something along the lines of: ‘Isn’t that a bad idea? Shouldn’t we be aiming at the potentially lethal weapon floating in front of us instead?’ But I didn’t. Because there was no time, and I’d be too scared to backchat Portia Fearwyn anyway.
The cats, the faeries, David and I faced one another and began inscribing a roughly hewn circle with our feet, each taking a quadrant until we formed a whole outline of a sphere in the earth.
“Done!” David shouted.
The Witch Fearwyn twitched her head in acknowledgment and took one step toward the boy, who stood transfixed, under the threatening green light.
“Nugget, you get over here right this minute!” Portia’s thin voice warbled in near hysteria. I’d never heard her sound so scared.
Orville finally came to his senses and turned toward us.
“Get ready,” Portia said over her shoulder to us, as she charged into the rough-hewn circle. Orville was no more than three steps away from our half-made shelter… two steps … one step … one foot in …
Portia brought her wand to the sky immediately above our heads. “Now!”
“Geodysia!!” The Custodians chanted in Unison, flicking our w
ands skyward.
Our aim was true. Geodysia met in a spot just above our heads. Five currents of powerful magic flowed in purple, blue, orange, and silver streams, and then tumbled downward to meet the perimeter of the etched circle surrounding us. In a near perfect feat of combined sorcery, the Custodians had created a dome of magical glowing filaments; delicate to look at with its gauzy light, but robust enough to deflect an army of Sherman tanks coupled with the worst lightning storm in history if need be. I could feel the power in our combined magic flowing through my wand arm to join with a livid energy that surged up and down my spine.
But our living magic wasn’t enough. Because the tip of Orville’s left pinky finger resting just outside our protective dome was enough to negate the young alchemist’s safety entirely. Before I could even form a thought, Nugget was yanked with violent force from our magical haven. Now on the outside of our spell, Orville fell to his knees, only to be lifted again, and tossed like a rag doll in midair by a torrent of sickly green light. The brilliant teen’s face twisted into a mask of terror and confusion as he was mercilessly hurled toward the swarming dark clouds above our heads.
“No!” Verdantia screamed. She lifted her head heavenward, the veins in her neck standing out in stark contrast to her creamy skin.
“Hold the dome!” Portia shouted.
I saw David’s arm shaking, and watched as the tremor moved through his body. My friend looked paler than a whitewashed moon.
My own arm shook. The energy from the magic shelter bolting through my core now. My stomach clenched in a painful knot. Tears poured freely down my face as I heard, rather than saw, Orville’s lanky body land with a thud on the earth outside of the Geodysia. The thick and sickly crack of bone resonated through the fine glowing threads of the dome. A dragging sound now, as his body was dragged mercilessly along the ground, only to be picked up and slammed against the earth once more. Both Hinrika and Verdantia sobbed, while Portia’s expression remained grim, her focus not veering away from keeping the dome intact.
The Angel and the Dragon (Hattie Jenkins & The Infiniti Chronicles Book 8) Page 2