Mistweavers 01 - Enchanted No More

by Robin D. Owens

  “Kondrian’s attack—and that of his shadleeches—occurred pretty fast,” Aric said. “Diamantina might still have been sleeping.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Jenni, the lady wouldn’t want death, or her land befouled by Kondrian,” Aric said patiently. “And he’d come after her as soon as he was done with us.”

  “Probably true.”

  Aric snorted. “Very true. Best place to ambush the Eight.”

  “If we aren’t being watched, which I doubt. The Eight might have arrived to clean up the mess.”

  “Wouldn’t have been happy with her for losing you.” Aric squeezed her.

  “Too late for both of us.”

  “And right now is too late for second-guessing what might have happened.” His grip changed to her hand and he laced his fingers with hers and pulled to have her walking back to the house. “I’m hungry,” he said.

  Jenni was disappointed in herself that she’d irritated him. But she couldn’t prevent a black thread of thought of what might have happened to them if she hadn’t discovered how to work the elemental energies against the Dark one. She doubted Aric was strong enough to win against an ancient Darkfolk no matter how good of a warrior he’d become.

  Adrenaline filtered from her, leaving her tired but wired. She became aware of her pounding headache again.

  She stumbled and Aric swung her into his arms. She didn’t protest.

  As soon as they reached the door, Diamantina opened it, exclaiming, “What happened to you? I was meditating in my ocean chamber and felt this terrible evil, and now look at you!” She scanned Jenni. “You appear tired but unharmed.” Her frown encompassed Aric. “You’re hurt!” She gestured to the tall naiader behind her and he took Jenni from Aric.

  “I should have been here!” the merfem said. “I like to watch the dawn from under the waves, but I should not have left you or my home or my Folk!”

  “You weren’t to know,” Aric said.

  Jenni had to agree. “No.” She hadn’t told the merfem, hadn’t wanted any interference. A bad call.

  The Waterfolk took them to the living room overlooking the ocean. The naiader lowered her gently to a love seat and brought a heavy raw silk afghan to cover her and she realized she was shivering.

  Aric was placed on a chair under a skylight that let in the sun, and his shirt was whisked off to show bloody wounds on his torso as well as his face. Wounds—plural—that Jenni hadn’t noticed, hadn’t tended. Guilt stung her as she watched Diamantina lay her hands on him and close those injuries. She had a small healing gift.

  He leaned toward her—unconsciously, Jenni knew—and more than guilt twisted inside her. A fire to a Treeman was intriguing but dangerous. Water to him was…necessary and fulfilling.

  Stupid twinges of jealousy, she shouldn’t be having them. Her emotions were too near the surface, she was more exhausted than she’d known. She tried to keep her eyes open to watch her lover and the merfem, but it got harder and harder and she slipped into unconsciousness.

  Noise woke her, and she figured she hadn’t been out too long—not long enough that anyone had moved her from her seat, though both the guardians stood on each side of her chair. It didn’t take ten seconds before she understood that if she’d thought she was watched and on short reins before, it was nothing to what would be in the future.

  All the Eight were there. As she watched in tired stupefaction, they marched out to the area she’d balanced and a great hum of approval swept through the open door and broke over her. They even joined hands and did a quick, joyful dance that shot bright and glittering light through the door, too.

  Jenni looked at Aric in the chair. She, he, and the guardians were now the only ones in the main room.

  “I’m hungry,” she said, repeating Aric’s earlier words. There didn’t look to be any sort of table with food that had been presented to him. “And I’m tired.”

  The elf guardian patted her head and the pure strength of him filtered through her, letting her sit up straight. “We’ve listened to Aric’s report.”

  The dwarf snorted. “I think we need to go through that fight step-by-step again. Aric said that you threw energies at Kondrian?”

  “Yes, and can’t anyone follow him and stop him from…hurting people so he heals?”

  Both guardians shook their heads. “He’s home by now,” the dwarf said. “And his stronghold has impenetrable defenses.”

  “But he has to feed—”

  “He has slaves,” the dwarf stated.

  Jenni couldn’t wrap her mind around that. Slaves.

  The dwarf grunted. “Disappearing homeless from financially devastated cities in the east. Refugees moving from one war-torn place to another unaccounted for.”

  “Humans,” Jenni whispered.

  “Humans are prolific and he and his sort feed on the humans that no one cares about,” the elf said gently. “And he’s old, and as far as Aric could tell, he wasn’t too wounded.”

  “Damn! I did my best,” she said.

  “And you did very well.” Another pat on the head sent calmness through her, even though she didn’t want it.

  “Pearl Wave, we need food here for Aric and Princess Jindesfarne,” the dwarf called.

  Stomping so that the bells on her ankles made dissonant jangles, Diamantina’s companion entered the house. She gazed at them, sniffed and shut the front door, as if Jenni and Aric were too lowly to see the great Lightfolk as they explored the elemental magics caught in the land that Jenni had balanced for them.

  The naiad vanished into the kitchen and came back with two large bowls of oatmeal.

  Aric dug into his with enthusiasm.

  Jenni hated oatmeal.

  Later that week Jenni prepared to balance the beach, the place she’d stand when the bubble rose from the core of the Earth. She went through all her rituals and was unsurprised when Cloudsylph knocked on her door as soon as she was ready, took her and floated her down from the cliff to where her pillar of fire energy was.

  Nor was she surprised to see the two guardians and the full complement of the Eight watch her as she summoned the mist—that only she could see—and went into it. The Eight and their great powers added to the problems of balancing the land. She didn’t dare draw magic from them and had to continually peer through the mist for more elemental energies, so the balancing was harder and more complex than she’d anticipated. But she was pleased with her pattern. And it was her pattern, something that would resonate with her, boost her own energy, tailored to her since she was the one who would be using it. She decided that she’d visit the place every day to feed more magic into the pattern. She wouldn’t need a pillar of flame anymore, she’d just be pulled to her place.

  Blocking all the interest and “whispering” of the Lightfolk that she thought was going on in the real world, she carefully turned ocean-ward and stretched all her senses to once again see if she could feel the beginnings of the bubble energy underneath the ocean…like trying to search for minute indications of boiling on the bottom of a simmering pot. She believed she could distinguish that, and realized that the Eight, or Diamantina, or her staff or all the other Folk the Eight would bring with them, might try to search for such signals.

  They would probably consider her perfectly balanced spot on the beach the place to stand for such a search. They’d muck up her pattern by imprinting their own energy on it. And though Jenni fully intended to fine-tune the pattern the morning of the equinox, she didn’t want to do that again and again.

  What to do? Shifting her balance, she realized her skin began to go clammy, a sign that she’d stayed in the mist too long.

  CHAPTER 28

  BUT SHE NEEDED TO PROTECT HER PATTERN. A few minutes now would save her magic in the future, and it was already too late to stop the effects this time. Her body heat had drained.

  Ignoring her shivering, she flipped through mental files, decided on a spell Rothly had created. One she’d found on her pocket computer after sh
e’d visited Northumberland.

  Stamping in place and shaking out her arms, bringing dry heat to warm her, she crafted a cagelike shield spell, a ward that would keep others from stepping on the ground that contained her three-dimensional magical pattern. And…done!

  She left the mist and saw Aric’s concerned face. The Eight now stood together, arranged much like they were when they sat on their thrones.

  She stumbled to Aric.

  “You’ve been gone a good three-quarters of an hour. I worried.” Aric took her hands, dropped them with an oath, watched her from under lowered brows. “You had to summon fire to warm yourself, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.” The word was a croak, and she realized how dry her throat was. If she smiled or talked too much her lips would crack.

  The Water Queen hurried over, stood before Jenni and placed her hands on Jenni’s shoulders. In an instant, Jenni felt her shriveled tissues plump. She inclined her head. “Thank you.”

  The queen patted her on her shoulders. “You’re welcome.”

  Someone yipped. Jenni whirled to see that Diamantina’s naiad companion, Pearl Wave, was standing close to Jenni’s pattern. Too close. The seaweed gown the naiad wore was crispy brown, cracking and falling in pieces.

  There was the tiniest snort of laughter from the Water Queen.

  Jenni scanned the crowd. “I need to keep the spot where I will work pristine. Sacred. Naturally I set wards.”

  “Naturally,” the Fire Queen said, gliding up to them.

  The Water Queen smiled cheerfully, then withdrew to where the ocean could swirl around her calves.

  Humming approval, Queen Emberdrake went toward the wards, then ran her hands as if shaping a column. “Very well done, dear.”

  “Thank you.”

  Her husband joined her. Nodded. “Yes.” He put his arm around Jenni’s shoulder and squeezed. “Proud of you.”

  Jenni swallowed. These two were treating her as if she were a part of their family and she was still unsure about them, and all the Eight.

  “Hmmph!” The dwarf king, the eldest and most powerful, stumped over. He looked Jenni’s column up and down as if he could see it easily when it was only a shimmer in the air to her. Jutting his chin and sliding his eyes toward her, he lifted a finger as if to poke, and said, “You permit?”

  Surprised that he’d asked, she nodded reflexively.

  He touched his finger to the ward, just testing, not trying to get through. If he’d wanted he could probably collapse her shield like a round of tissue-paper cards.

  He hopped back, swearing in dwarvish with words that crashed against her ears. His fingernail-gnarly-claw looked burnt. Then he grinned, nodded. “Good work.”

  Without saying another word, he vanished, as did his wife. The rest of the Eight followed. Diamantina sent Jenni a considering glance, gestured for her companion to leave, then vanished, too.

  The only ones left on the beach were Jenni and Aric and the two guardians. Those men circled the column, the elf with his hand on his sword hilt, the dwarf rubbing his beard. They walked to the beach, along the tide line, along the shadowy brown ripple in the sand that marked low tide, back to join Jenni and Aric.

  “You’ll stand here for the equinox ritual?” the dwarf grunted.

  “Yes,” Jenni said.

  “In the mist, like you were earlier.”

  “Right.”

  Another grunt. He circled until he was on the north side of her ward. “Think they’ll come from the north if they want Jenni. They’ll fly.”

  “Yes,” agreed the elf guardian. “The south has many humans that one must shield oneself from, which takes energy that should be saved for battle. The east will have all the wards that the Eight put up around the estate and any attacker would reach them before Jenni on the beach.”

  “And me,” Aric said, tilting his own sword at his side.

  “And us,” the dwarf said.

  “West is the ocean. Crossing it takes a lot of power, too.”

  “They’ll come from the north,” Aric said.

  Jenni got the idea that this had already been determined and was being said for her sake. At least none of these males were being condescending.

  All three of them stared at Jenni’s ward, maybe observed beyond that to the balanced energy pattern. She wondered what they saw.

  The elf turned to her. “How long can you stay within the place between dimensions?”

  Shrugging, Jenni said, “I don’t know. It depends upon circumstances, how strong I am, what ambient energies are around—” She’d made the mistake of looking him in the eyes and the piercing blue of his gaze immobilized her.

  When he spoke, it was softly wrapped steel. “You can’t be harmed in there. On the day of the ritual, you stay in there.” He glanced away so she wasn’t enthralled, and she found herself trembling. He didn’t want a repeat of the portal tragedy when her mother, who was anchor, was struck down and her family exited the gray mist at her screams.

  “Girl child,” the dwarf said, jerked a thumb at her spot on the beach. “You stay in there until you’ll die with your next breath. Only then do you come out. Got that?”

  Icy waves of fear flooded her. Treeman, elf, dwarf. All three men wore identical warrior expressions. They were expecting her to be attacked, anticipating a battle right here. By Kondrian. Maybe even other powerful Dark ones.

  She stared at Aric, his face was unyielding. “Stay in the interdimension, Jenni.”

  She could only nod.

  The days between the attack by Kondrian and the spring equinox dragged by with oppressive slowness. The only good news was from her job. The leprechaun event and story line was a major hit. Enough that it would repeat for several years in March. Jenni wondered if she’d be alive next March.

  The guardians were often around, though unseen. Jenni got so she could sense them and knew Aric could do the same.

  One or another of the Eight was usually on site part of the day, interacting with Diamantina and her staff, chanting or dancing on the ritual area—and if they upset the balance even slightly they wanted Jenni to fix it then and there. When she was within three days of the ritual, she refused, saying she couldn’t spare the energy. The Water King was not pleased.

  Jenni was both irritated and relieved that she wasn’t in on all the war sessions that Aric attended. She wasn’t sure she wanted to think of worst-case scenarios, but concentrated only on what she was responsible for, and what she could handle.

  She’d decided that she would call her brother every day. He was healed in body and magic—even if it wasn’t his former magical skills. Maybe being whole would lead to healing his heart and mind. And attitude. She phoned Rothly and, as usual, had to leave a message. She told him what she was doing and that she’d used his shielding spell to good effect. No answer. The next day she spent a while talking about the spiderwebs and shadleeches and received a rude message in return. “Sounds stupid. No spiderwebs here, you fool.”

  His continuing bitterness pinched her until she walked in the ocean and let the waves wash over her feet, checked the beach once more, though few people had come down here—Aric and the two guardians, and the Emberdrakes. Jenni could sense that the King and Queen of Water, and other merfolk, had swum down to the ocean floor to check on incipient bubble energies. She wasn’t informed if any had sensed them.

  The day before the ritual, Jenni watched Diamantina and her household check the dancing circle and the beach, and step out measurements where the pavilions of the Eight and their retinues would camp. She hadn’t ever seen the huge and gaily colored tents arrive, but recalled that she’d run past them on her way to the portal during that mission many years ago. She and her family had stayed in a shabby hotel.

  Today she watched until she was shooed away. After she double-checked the beach, she went back to her room and called Rothly and told him she loved him.

  She recorded the various spells she’d used in the family journal and emailed them to him.
Then Aric came in and proposed other, more physical, plans to relieve the tension.

  As afternoon cooled into evening, Jenni woke from dozing in Aric’s arms when sudden power surged through her as if she were a gas burner being ignited. She sat up at the same time as Aric. His arm around her went hard and she sensed he was mentally cursing.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing.”

  But his tone of voice as well as the change in his aura told her what was wrong. She leaned against him and rubbed her head on his shoulder. “I suppose we should have anticipated that the Eight would have brought an excellent bard or three.”

  “Hired.” Aric slipped from her grasp and out of bed, pulled on some knit sweatpants of a pale brown. His lip curled. “My father, Windstrum, doesn’t work for free.”

  Jenni shoved hair out of her face, watched Aric pace, shoulders bunched with muscle. She wasn’t sure what to say. She didn’t want to push. Aric knew that she wanted him to reconcile with his estranged father.

  He went to the window that looked inland and snorted.

  “What?” Jenni crawled from bed.

  Shaking his head, a lopsided smile kicked up a side of his mouth. He angled his chin, pointing. “Look.”

  She did, and blinked. The sight was familiar—sort of. Denver’s white airport “tents” were pretty well known by now. The Eight had copied the shape, but the large pavilion sure wasn’t white. Peaks were red and orange with flamelike tracings, light violet and the palest shade of summer-blue sky, a mountain of varied-colored browns, deep blue and green with wavy swirls. She laughed and a little of the strain of the anticipation of tomorrow eased. “Nice.”

  “You would think so,” he said, but there was an indulgent note in his voice.

  Jenni noted that there weren’t any colors of Treefolk—no rich red-browns that mimicked redwoods or greens of spring leaves or oak forests.

  Aric put an arm around her shoulders. “We wouldn’t want a place with the Eight anyway.”

  She wondered if that were true.

  “And if there are visitors from dryads or Treemen…” He tilted his head and Jenni knew that there were. “They would be using the trees on the land and the greenhome.”