Summer's Cauldron

by G. L. Breedon

  Alex rose up into the air. He spotted the woman easily and dove down in pursuit. If he could get in front of her, he could see beneath the hood of her cloak. Then he would know who was behind the Shadow’s Wraith’s plot. And he wouldn’t need to look into her soul-essence to identify her. That thought chilled his mind. If seeing into souls corrupted by the Dark Spirit Mage had been terrifying, seeing into her own might leave his soul-essence eternally wounded.

  The woman ducked and dodged as she ran through the carnival, slipping between tents, sliding behind wagons, racing between rides. Unable to will himself to where he wanted to be, Alex was forced to chase after her. Even though he could move faster in astral form than she could on foot, she knew her way around the carnival better than he did.

  He was not sure how she had sensed his presence in the tent. He had been certain the shield of energy he cloaked himself with would protect him from even a Spirit Mage’s powers of perception. The woman seemed to be able to perceive when he was close. Just as he was about to round on her so he could see her face, she ducked sideways and into a tent. Alex had no time for his mind to register the words painted on the banner over entrance as he followed her inside.

  Alex floated into the tent and into darkness. Then, a dim, blue-white glow illuminated the tent, light bouncing from side to side, cutting through the blackness. Alex could see the woman, a glow-wand held in an outstretched arm, standing beside an identical version of herself, who stood beside a copy of her, endless copies surrounding them.

  Mirrors, Alex thought.

  The woman had led him into the Minotaur Mirror Maze. She stood facing him, her features still concealed within the folds of her hooded cloak. It reminded Alex of another figure in a hooded cloak. But why was she standing there? And where was she standing? It was impossible to tell where the real Dark Spirit Mage stood among the many reflections glittering in the darkness of the tent. He should have been able to discern the real woman from the reflections by seeing her soul-essence, but all the images of the woman bore that sign. How could that be?

  Alex drifted forward and caught sight of something else reflected to infinity in the mirrors. Something he should not have been able to see — his own face.

  Alex stared at his reflections in the maze of mirrors. That made no sense. He could never see his astral form in a mirror. A mirror could only reflect things in the physical world. Unless these were not normal mirrors. If these were magical mirrors…

  Alex shot upward even as he sensed the magical energy reaching toward him. He was not certain what that magical energy was, but he knew instinctively it could harm him. He twisted to the side as he shot upward, a bolt of pitch-black lightening searing past him, snaking through the mirrors and the tent wall with no effect.

  Then Alex was above the mirrors and invisible again to the physical world. Similar to how Batami had been teaching Alex to affect the physical world while in astral form, the Dark Spirit Mage below him had the power to affect the astral world while in her physical body.

  The woman let the glow-wand flutter out and darkness engulfed the tent of mirrors. Alex could see her, like an astral after-image, as she fled the tent. He rose up through the roof of the tent and high into the sky. The near-brush with the Dark Spirit Mage’s power left him even more committed to determining her identity.

  Alex looked down to see the woman running again, dashing in a straight line for another tent. He willed himself forward, racing after the woman. She whipped the canvas flap of the tent back and leapt inside. As Alex flew through the canvas wall of the small sideshow tent, he had only a moment to register the words painted on its side — Pandora’s Box.

  The woman raced up a narrow aisle between rows of wooden folding chairs as Alex entered the tent. Darkness draped the space, but Alex suddenly had an idea. The woman knew he was there, so there was no reason to hide. And, no reason to let her hide from him. Alex focused his mind and mentally spoke the rune-word for light, directing the magical energy into the glow-wand the woman still held.

  The woman gasped in surprise as the glow-wand suddenly blazed in her hand. In that moment, Alex saw many things — he saw the woman standing on a small stage in the back of the tent. He saw her hand on the lid of a large, black-lacquered chest. He saw the ancient runes engraved in the dented and battered wood of the box like a single flowing letter. He saw something in those runes that sparked a fear within him borne out of some deep-seated soul-memory welling up into his consciousness. And he saw within the folds of the woman’s cloak. He saw something glittering in the light of the glow-wand. Something beautiful. Something he could sense the power from now that he paused to notice it. And he saw the woman’s face.

  She laughed.

  And opened the lid of the chest.

  Chapter 18: Pandora’s Box

  Blackness.

  Blacker then any earthly darkness.

  More than a mere absence of light.

  An absence of everything.

  That was what was inside the ancient lacquered box. That blackness pulled at Alex like a siphoning whirlpool sucking down a trapped ship. The pull of the darkness within the box was overpowering. Alex struggled against it, but each second drew him closer and closer to the lip of the lid and the empty-nothingness beyond it.

  Alex could hear the woman laughing as he was drawn to the very edge of the blackness. He tried to force himself back into his physical body, to escape his astral form, but the darkness held him somehow. It sucked at astral energy. Alex could feel himself weakening as he fought to draw back from the box of blackness. That blackness extracted something else from him, as well. He could feel it leaching the power from his soul-essence. The blackness, whatever it was, and whatever it might look like in the physical world, was trying to devour his soul-essence.

  Alex was on the verge of collapsing into the ever-endless night within the box when he noticed a flickering around him. As the blackness drained his power, it also drained his ability to maintain the shield of magical energy around his astral body preventing the astral barrier from expelling him. He risked a look toward the woman and stared at the thing around her neck, the artifact that had originally prevented him from reaching her. In the final desperate moment before the blackness within Pandora’s Box consumed him, Alex released the cloak of magical energy he had been using to circumvent the astral barrier created by the magical necklace around the woman’s neck.

  Instantly, Alex felt himself thrust from the edge of the box and the tent and the presence of the laughing woman and back into his physical body in his bed.

  Alex sat up, coughing and gasping for air. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

  Curiosity — What was that box?

  Fear — It had almost consumed his soul-essence.

  Anger — That was the third time he had been tricked and trapped that day.

  Satisfaction — He had managed to escape. Escape with no time to spare before what he knew would have been his death, and a death that would have trapped his soul-essence in some eternal purgatory.

  Curiosity — What was the Sword of Silas? And how could the Dark Spirit Mage use it to free the Shadow Wraith?

  Satisfaction — He knew who the Dark Spirit Mage was and he knew the necklace she wore was the magical artifact that prevented astral travel.

  Fear — Esmeralda. She was a far more dangerous and devious Dark Spirit Mage than he had expected. What was her plan? She obviously kept parts of the plan secret even from her followers — followers whose souls she had slowly poisoned over time to turn their minds and hearts to her will and the service of the Shadow Wraith. Only she would know the full plan and what it entailed. Or was that true? Could her husband, Mr. Apollo, be oblivious to her true nature? Was he part of the plan, as well? Was he her fellow mastermind?

  Alex wanted to spring from his bed and wake his parents and tell them all that had happened and all he had learned, but he could feel his exhaustion pulling him toward sleep. He knew there was someone
else he needed to speak to first. Someone who had been waiting for him.

  Alex closed his eyes and willed himself into his astral form, resisting the temptation to let his mind drift off into slumber. He badly wanted to sleep. Astral travel was exhausting under normal circumstances, but the events of night had been doubly fatiguing.

  A moment later, Alex hovered above his body again in astral form. Then he willed himself to where he needed to be and floated outside Batami’s hut in the middle of the White Forest.

  Batami was waiting for him. She floated in astral form several feet above the ground, her legs drawn up and crossed beneath her body, eyes closed. Alex knew she was engaged in a meditative practice allowing her to extend her time in astral form. As a result of the practice, Batami could prolong her presence in astral form for days, if she needed. Until the needs of her physical body demanded her return. Batami had taught him the basics of the practice, but there was so much to learn, and never enough time for training.

  “You are very late,” Batami thought into his mind as she opened her eyes.

  “I managed to get inside the carnival,” Alex thought back to Batami. “I know who is trying to free the Shadow Wraith.”

  Her surprise was evident in the look clouding her face. “Tell me everything.”

  Alex slowly recounted each of the events of the past few hours. When he was done, Batami did something that surprised Alex — She smiled.

  “I should admonish you,” Batami said, “for not immediately coming to me and seeking my vast experience and skill to investigate the carnival. However, I feel certain such a thought never entered your mind.”

  “Wow,” Alex said, suddenly shocked by Batami’s perceptiveness and all it implied. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.”

  “Because you are reckless, headstrong, and have a dangerous appetite for adventure,” Batami said. “While these are all great weaknesses, your most debilitating fault is your inability to ask for help when you need it. There is no weakness in asking for assistance.”

  “I’ll try to remember that,” Alex said, actually meaning it.

  “Please do,” Batami said, placing the words forcefully within his mind.

  “What do we do now?” Alex asked.

  “First, you will inform your parents of what you have discovered,” Batami said. “Your father may be able to arrest Esmeralda and the others based on your testimony.”

  “I’m afraid my word isn’t worth much these days,” Alex said, unable to look at Batami while he spoke.

  “Why not?” Batami asked, a frown filling her face.

  Alex explained, as quickly as he could, how he and the Guild had been tricked by Anna and the Mad Mages into looking like they were stealing the old Founders Statue from the town museum and how they were all now grounded.

  “I am afraid my earlier assessment of your character flaws was not critical enough,” Batami said, disappointment on her face. “You allowed your pride and anger to cloud your judgment. If that can get you grounded when facing a bunch of scheming children, imagine the result when facing the Shadow Wraith and its minions.”

  Alex said nothing. Batami words were pointed and powerful. He could not afford to be so foolish again. Too much was at stake.

  “While your father may not be able to arrest them, at least he will be able to keep an eye Esmeralda and the others,” Batami said.

  “Maybe if we could find all the people under Esmeralda’s influence, we could figure out the plan,” Alex said. “What do they need a sword for? I’ve never even heard of the Sword of Silas.”

  “Neither have I,” Batami said. “But it might be known under a different name if it is some ancient magical artifact. Esmeralda seems to have a knack for finding magical relics. If I’m not mistaken, her necklace was once called The Necklace of Niarha. It is very, very old.”

  “What about Pandora’s Box?” Alex asked. “I was almost trapped forever in that black box.”

  “I’m not certain,” Batami said. “I think it might be The Box of Internment. It was used to imprison Dark Spirit Mages a thousand years ago. It will appear empty to normal eyes, but it will ensnare anyone in astral form until the box is destroyed.”

  “Like the prison that holds the Shadow Wraith,” Alex said.

  “A much weaker prison, but similar,” Batami said. “It would never hold a creature as powerful as the Shadow Wraith.”

  “Who is the figure in black who helped me?” Alex asked, finally coming to a question that he been on his mind for days.

  “Someone very clever, but not clever enough to heed my warnings,” Batami said, a hint of sadness flickering across her face.

  “You know this person?” Alex asked, more curious than ever about the identity of the figure in black.

  “Yes,” Batami said. “However, we have a great many other things to concern ourselves with. First, before you fade back into your physical body from fatigue, I need to show you a little of how to use the magic of astral energy to protect yourself. Unfortunately, there is never enough time to teach you all you need to know.”

  Alex spent the next hour learning how to manipulate the energy of the astral plane the way energy could be magically controlled in the physical world. Batami made him practice creating a shield of astral energy alternating with learning how to focus that same energy into blue-white bolts of power that could affect other beings in the astral world. Alex practiced until he looked down at himself and saw his astral form fading into ether. He tried to remain alert, but he could feel himself slipping back into his physical body.

  “Too tired,” was all Alex managed to say before fading away from Batami’s side.

  “Don’t forget…” he heard her say as sleep took hold of his ragged mind and he collapsed into unconsciousness.

  Chapter 19: Cauldron Cooking

  Flames grasped like clutching hands as he ran. A wall of fire roared up before him, the air feeling like a furnace. Trees around him collapsed and exploded, spewing glowing embers skyward like miniature volcanoes. The flames were all around now, no relief and no escape as his clothes combusted into a fire that seared and surrounded him.

  Alex woke up blinking and breathing heavily as he wiped the sweat from his eyes. He was hot. As hot as he had been in his dream.

  He sat up in bed. His bedcovers lie on the floor and his pajama shirt was unbuttoned to his belly. The windows were wide open, but only to allow a stiff, hot breeze to circulate through the room like a stove box. Alex saw clouds outside the window and slipped out of bed to investigate.

  Dark storm clouds filled the sky, threatening to shatter with rain at any moment, but offering no relief from the sweltering heat blanketing the town. Alex shook his head in puzzlement and caught sight of himself in the mirror. He tried to straighten his sweat-plastered hair with his fingers, but it was hopeless. Then he saw the clock on his nightstand.

  “Oh no,” Alex sighed.

  It was nearly eleven o’clock in the morning. He had forgotten to set the alarm and overslept by hours. His plan had been to wake his parents and tell them what he had discovered as soon as he returned from his astral travel with Batami. However, the lure of sleep had been too strong. At the very least, he could have told them over breakfast.

  Why hadn’t his parents tried to wake him? Had something happened? Was something wrong?

  Alex ran from his room, racing down the hallway and jumping down the stairs two at a time. His bare feet skidded against the hardwood floor of the kitchen as he came to a stop.

  “Alex,” his mother said, turning from the stove where she was making pancakes on a hot griddle. “You’re up in time for breakfast.”

  “The second breakfast,” Nina said from where she sat at the table, fork filled with a syrup-drenched pancake. “Sleepy head.”

  “Mmm, third breakfast, in my case,” Clark said, sitting next to Nina, who sat next to where Victoria knelt at the end of the table. Beside her, Daphne, Ben, and Raphael sat eating pancakes. Alex had forgot
ten the Guild was collectively grounded and confined to his house.

  “Very nice pajamas,” Victoria said with a smile as she took a sip of orange juice. Alex looked down and felt his face flush with even more heat than the weather was providing. He began to button up his pajama shirt.

  “Morning,” Ben said, pointing to the unruly mop on Alex’s head. “Great hair.”

  “Use a little less spit next time you comb it,” Rafael said, plopping a bite of pancake into his mouth.

  “Morpheus’ mud pies,” Daphne said, with her mouth full. “Did you forget to sleep while you were in bed?”

  “Language,” his mother admonished Daphne. “We don’t curse in this house. Or speak with our mouths full.”

  “Sorry, Mrs. Ravenstar,” Daphne said, her eyes flicking down to her plate.

  Alex’s mother frowned at Alex as she placed a plate of pancakes before the open seat beside Victoria. “Batami should know better than to wear you out like this. Have a seat and eat something.”

  Alex shook his head to clear it and recover from the disparity between what he imagined he might find downstairs and the sight before his eyes. Then he looked at his mother and spoke.

  “I know who’s trying to free the Shadow Wraith.”

  The smell of the pancakes wafted up invitingly to Alex’s nostrils as the cacophonous questions from his mother and the Guild assaulted his ears. His stomach rumbled as a sharp pain of hunger shot through it. He honestly couldn’t decide if it was more important to eat first or tell his mother and the Guild what he had seen and done the night before. He decided he could do both at the same time.

  Alex sat at the table and began shoveling pancakes into his mouth at a preposterous pace as he recounted to his mother, sister, and friends all that had happened the night before. His mother’s frowns at speaking with his mouth full were quickly replaced by gasps as he got to the more dangerous details of his midnight adventure.

  It took four pancakes, two sausages, three scrambled eggs, and a piece of toast smothered in strawberry jam for Alex to finish his story and begin to feel full. He knew from his experiences of astral travel he would be hungry again in less than an hour, but at least for the moment, his hunger felt satiated and his willpower fortified. His last bite, and last words, were met with indecipherable stares from his table companions and a look from his mother that he steadfastly refused to interpret. The way she was wringing the apron at her waist while she stood beside him was enough indication of what she thought. She let the apron fall and smoothed it out before placing her hands on either side of Alex’s head and tilting it back so she could stare down into his eyes.