Crone’s Moon argi-5

by M. R. Sellars

  “Seizure,” Constance was shouting to the security guard. “Fell against the car…”

  The last two words of her sentence belted out across the parking lot, piercing the suddenly low-level ambient noise as the car alarm reset with a clipped burp of the horn and settled into silence.

  “Fell against the car and set off the alarm,” she continued in a normal tone.

  “She an epileptic?” he asked.

  “Something like that,” Constance replied.

  “Would you like for me to call paramedics?” the guard asked, glancing past her at Felicity’s motionless form, still cradled in my arms.

  “Rowan?” Constance called over to me.

  I shook my head. “No. We just need to get her home so she can rest.”

  “You sure, sir? She doesn’t look so good,” the officer leaned around Constance and spoke directly to me, a slight southern drawl to his voice.

  I nodded quickly. “She’ll be fine. We’ve been through this before.”

  Neither of us was lying. We just weren’t telling the whole story. Fortunately, the security officer didn’t seem to notice.

  “If you say so,” he replied. “But I’m gonna have to get your names and such for my report.”

  “Detective Ben Storm, SLPD,” my friend offered, flashing his badge. “Listen, do you mind if I go pull my van up so she has a place to lay down.”

  The guard looked over the top of his glasses at the gold shield, then glanced around, inspecting the thruway. He finally nodded as he pointed to a freshly vacated slot a few cars away, “Yeah, go ahead. Just pull in over there so you’re not blockin’ traffic.”

  Ben took off at a jog, and the security officer turned his attention back to us. “A Fed and a city cop,” he grunted and then looked over at me. “You got a badge too?”

  “No sir,” I replied. “We’re both civilians.”

  “Good,” he grunted again. “I was starting to wonder if y’all were out here about the abduction this morning. Wait here while I go get my clipboard.”

  Constance looked over at me as he turned his back to us and she asked, “Are you sure she’s okay?”

  “She should be. It’s over now,” I replied and then paused before adding. “For the moment, anyway.”

  “So, what happened?” she asked, her voice just above a whisper. “You started falling, she starting yelling something about the ground, and the next thing I knew she went stiff as a board.”

  “I slipped over to the other side,” I replied quietly, not bothering to correct her perception regarding what Felicity had said. “I’m pretty sure she decided to rescue me, and since Kimberly Forest is her friend, she had an even stronger connection than me. So…” I allowed the rest of my speculation to remain unspoken.

  “Damn, Rowan, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you two.”

  “Don’t worry,” I offered. “I don’t think we’ll ever get used to us either.”

  “You said your name was Mandalay, right?” the security officer asked as he stepped back over to us, clipboard in hand. “So, how do you spell that?”

  “Here,” Constance said, reaching into her pocket and withdrawing a business card for him.

  He took it from her and slipped it beneath the holder on the metal clipboard, then began writing, pausing now and again to glance at the cardboard rectangle.

  “Rowan…” Felicity’s faint voice wafted into my ears.

  I looked down and saw her eyes fluttering open, so I shifted my arm and brushed the hair back from her face.

  “Hey,” I replied simply.

  I had settled from my original kneeling position and was now fully seated on the asphalt. It wasn’t the most comfortable of places to sit, and on top of that, it was cool enough to be leaching the warmth from my body right through the seat of my pants. I imagined Felicity was faring no better, since she was laid out across my lap with her lower half splayed onto the hard surface as well. I was glad Ben had gone to get the van.

  “He’s hurting her, Rowan,” she whispered.

  “I know, honey,” I said, gently rocking. “I know.”

  “No,” she spoke again, her voice still a weak thread. Her eyelids were falling back down as she continued. “I remember…”

  “You remember?” I asked.

  “Yes…” she whispered again, her voice barely audible as it trailed off, and she drifted back into a hazy sleep.

  “Hey, Kemosabe,” Ben’s voice came at me from above. “Let me give ya’ a hand.”

  I looked up and saw my friend in front of me. He knelt down and slipped a large hand behind Felicity’s shoulders, then began gently lifting her up into a sitting position as I supported her neck. I pushed back and twisted my legs around, dragging myself up to my knees again and slipping my arms around her torso. Once Ben had helped me get her up off the ground, and I lifted her into my arms, he ran ahead to open the side door of the van.

  I carried her the thirty-odd feet to the vehicle, and my friend was already waiting for us.

  “How’s she doin’?” he asked as he helped me settle her into the seat.

  “She woke up for a second,” I told him hurriedly. “And she said that she remembers.”

  “Remembers what?” he asked as he carefully reclined the seat several inches while I buckled her in.

  “Something about what she saw on the other side, but I’m not sure exactly. She drifted back off before she said anything else.”

  “Shit,” he muttered and then looked at me. “Okay, let’s get rid of this rent-a-cop and get ‘er somewhere comfortable so we can talk.”

  “I really don’t want to leave her alone right now,” I said.

  He gave me an understanding nod. “Yeah, I know what ya’ mean. You stay with ‘er, and I’ll handle it.”

  My friend took off at a trot, covering the distance quickly with his long-legged gait. I watched as he repeated the same action Constance had with the business card and continued talking to the officer as he wrote.

  The wind was picking up, and the chill in the autumn air was beginning to take on an unpleasant bite. I looked back to check on Felicity and noticed her body was twisting away from the open door, most likely out of reflex, reacting to the drop in temperature. I stepped over and slid it partially shut to shelter her from the breeze.

  When I turned back to see what was going on, the security officer was gesturing toward me. Ben was saying something to him, but I couldn’t make it out at this distance. The officer started waving me over, and Ben began to jog in my direction.

  I took some tentative steps, meeting my friend a few feet away from the van.

  “He says he’s gotta see your ID,” Ben grumbled, shaking his head. “Jeezus, I hate wannabe cops.”

  “He’s just doing his job, Ben,” I replied, but I wasn’t any more excited about the situation than he.

  He jerked his head toward Mandalay and the officer. “Go ahead. I’ll stay with Firehair.”

  “Okay,” I returned, starting toward them while reaching for my wallet.

  I only made it three steps before Felicity began to scream.

  CHAPTER 32:

  It no longer mattered whether Felicity’s sudden disconnection from the other side of the veil had been the result of magick, luck, or pure coincidence. Whichever it was, it had obviously worn off.

  Ben was already yanking back the side door of the van as I was turning in place. For a brief moment, I froze dead in my tracks, as the image that greeted me brought back a flood of fear-tainted memories.

  Felicity’s back was impossibly arched as she bucked and strained against the shoulder harness. Her hands were clawed around the armrests and her forearms planted firm, pressed along the lengths as if permanently cemented there. She convulsed and fell back into the partially reclined seat, tossing her head to the side while twisting against the unseen bonds. Her normally beautiful face was flushed deep red, and her features were twisted and carved deeply with lines. The fissures joined in a maddening tan
gle to form a horrid mask of pain. The muscles and tendons of her neck were visibly bulging, tensed to their limits, if not beyond.

  For the second time in my life, I felt my blood turn instantly to ice as her tear-filled eyes met mine, and she wailed uncontrollably. The scream was one of pure agony- an unearthly sound I begged the Lord and Lady to never make me hear again. But, they weren’t listening. When Felicity regained her breath, the grating banshee cry came again, this time coupled with the barely intelligible words, “Please! No!”

  I was somewhere around a half-dozen or so steps away from the van when I turned, but I made it back to the open door in three.

  “Whadda we do?” Ben yelled at me, fighting to be heard over my wife’s pained cry.

  “I have to ground her,” I yelled back, reaching in and clamping my hand around her thin wrist. It had worked for her; I could only hope that it would do so for me. Unfortunately, I was all too aware that she was the one who had the bond of familiarity with Kimberly Forest, not I; and, such a connection was something that would be not be easily overcome.

  An arc of pain immediately shot up my arm, causing me to tense as it joined with my other near forgotten aches, bringing them each back to the forefront. I shuddered but held tight to my wife’s arm.

  Her flesh was cool and clammy to the touch. I feared the intensity of the torture was taking a heavy toll. Ethereal or not, as far as her body was concerned, it was the real thing, and it was sending her into shock.

  Her scream had faded to a nasal whine, punctuated by small cries at irregular intervals. With each cry came a violent jerk of her body as she fought to retreat from whatever unseen torture was being inflicted.

  I looked over at my friend and saw that he was trying to maintain a stolid expression, but his eyes betrayed the fear and concern I knew he was feeling.

  “Promise me something,” I said to him.

  “What?”

  “If this works…” I stopped mid-sentence and swallowed hard as a sudden lance of pain ran like fire along the nerves in my arm. I gathered myself and rushed to continue, giving my head a quick jerk toward my wife. “If we end up swapping places, don’t let her touch me.”

  “But…”

  “No buts,” I said, cutting him off with a hard shake of my head. “Promise me you won’t let her die, Ben.”

  He stood looking at me, the fear now far more obvious in his eyes as my words began to sink in. When he didn’t respond, I knew he had a full grasp of what I had just said.

  “Promise me!” I demanded again.

  He swallowed hard and gave me a quick nod. It was all I needed.

  I turned my attention back to Felicity, struggling to form a solid ground as I shunted everything from her I could. I gritted my teeth and blinked back the tears that were welling in my own eyes, not sure if they were solely from the pain, my concern for her, empathic response, or all of the above.

  Harsh shadows shifted in and out of my vision as ethereal darkness tried to fall, and I did my best to let it. Bright blooms of light fell in behind the contrasts, blinding me for sharp instants like the burst of a camera flash. I pressed myself forward, ignoring the growing intensity of the pain even as I heard myself begin to groan in the face of it. But, for each step I took toward the veil, I was shoved back the same, returning in part to cold reality.

  My senses were expanding, as I stood on the edge of two worlds, unable to take a firm foothold in either. My frustration was growing, but more than that, my gut fears were beginning to overwhelm me.

  By now, Agent Mandalay and the security officer were almost immediately at my back. I could feel them close, and I heard their voices as they argued.

  “What’s he doing to her?” the officer was saying.

  “Stay back,” Constance told him. “He knows what he’s doing.”

  “That doesn’t look like an epileptic seizure to me,” he pressed.

  “It’s going to be fine,” she replied, but I could hear the trepidation in her voice, and I’m sure he could too. “Just stay back.”

  “I’m calling the paramedics,” he returned. “There’s something wrong here.”

  Felicity continued to whimper as she writhed in the seat. Again, her jade green eyes locked with mine while she shook through a shallow tremor. Her mouth opened as if she was trying to say something, but no words escaped, only the high-pitched gurgle of absolute physical torment.

  She tried again, attempting to force a word through her trembling lips, “B-b-b-bbbbb…”

  I wasn’t sure if the person trying to speak to me was Felicity or the channeled Kimberly. I shook my head and tried to shush her as I continued struggling to ground.

  She kept shaking, her motor reflexes no longer cooperating as she persisted in her attempt to speak. In the end, she managed only to make a convoluted noise that sounded vaguely like ‘hmmm’.

  Then, without warning, her head snapped back as she once again arched against the safety harness, her guttural howl piercing the crisp afternoon air.

  “THIS ISN”T WORKING!” I screamed in bitter frustration.

  I was beginning to lose the battle, and I knew it. A feeling of panic was spreading rampantly through my chest, fighting to assume control and reduce me to a blithering idiot. I loosened my grip on her wrist and twisted my palm toward her pulse point then quickly clasped it tight once more, seeking a better connection. I could feel my feet getting hot, and I was beginning to dance from one foot to the other as the burn intensified.

  I looked around, searching for nothing in particular but everything in general, all but begging for an answer to fall from the ether. My own fear was taking hold, and I knew I couldn’t afford to let that happen. I had to think, but emotion was building an impenetrable storm front in my brain, and all rational thought seemed to be trapped behind the squall line.

  As I continued shuffling in place, I panned my anxious gaze around. My feet felt as though they were on fire now, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could stand it. When I happened to look down, I saw the thick, rubber soles of my shoes.

  Whether by actual realization or simple reflex, I kicked my right toe against the heel of my left shoe and began yanking my foot upward. I struggled against the tight laces of the ankle high tennis shoe until I managed to pull my foot free and then quickly plant it against the asphalt.

  Coolness seeped upward through my sock but was immediately overtaken by the heat. I closed my eyes and concentrated as best I could on forming the connection between earth ground and myself. In my mind’s eye, I could see a shaft of light, extending from me and leading down into the center of the earth. Or, at least I thought I could. I wasn’t sure anymore because nothing was changing.

  I opened my eyes and saw that Felicity was still writhing against invisible bonds. When I looked closer, I saw that patches of blood were starting to spread where her shirt was pulled taut across her chest.

  In my clouded mind, I began wondering if I had done the unthinkable when I had made my cursing demand of Cerridwen. I was no longer thinking clearly, and the idea took vicious hold. I snapped my head to the side and squeezed my eyes shut, unable to look into Felicity’s tortured face any longer, distraught by the belief that I had brought this upon her.

  Emotion joined with pain, and I felt hot tears running down my cheeks. I blinked hard, and my blurred vision fell upon the back of the passenger seat inside the van as I allowed my head to hang. My body was beginning to shudder with the first wave of sobs, and I was losing control. I stared forward, continuing to blink as tears formed and overflowed onto my cheeks.

  It was then that the ether finally gave up the answer.

  In front of me, peeking from the top of the pocket on the back of the seat was a small silver dome, fitted with a ring. Extending from it, wrapped by bailing wire, were faded yellow-tan bristles expanding horizontally into a triangular fan.

  It was a whiskbroom.

  Felicity’s attempt to stutter a word ran through my brain and joined with an arc
ane thought that had somehow managed to escape the muddy swirl that was supposed to be my rational mind. At its root, magick was a simple thing, and sometimes the simpler the better.

  I reached out and plucked the broom from the pocket, flipped it over so that the bristles now pointed upward, and plunged it back into place.

  “Goddammit, GO AWAY!” I screamed.

  And, for me, the day turned into night.

  Light became darkness.

  Then consciousness became a distant memory.

  *****

  The diesel engine of the life support vehicle was thrumming away at idle, sending a gentle vibration through the floorboards. The back door was hanging open, and looking outward through it, I could see the emergency lights flickering across the cars on the parking lot. To my right, in the cab, the two-way radio would occasionally burp with static and a stream of tinny voices, too faint for me to understand, before falling back into momentary silence.

  True to his word, the security officer had called paramedics, and they had arrived within moments of my losing consciousness. When I awoke, I had a throbbing headache but other than that, seemed none the worse for wear. Felicity, too, was showing little or no signs of distress from what she had just been through, other than the fact that she was growing more anxious with every moment that passed. I suspected, however, that we were both running on residual adrenalin and the effects would eventually catch up to us. Fortunately, it was nothing a good, long sleep wouldn’t fix.

  “I told you we don’t have time for this!” Felicity spat, her voice an audible indicator of her agitation. “We have to go!”

  “I just want to check you over,” the paramedic calmly told her.

  “What for? How many times do I have to repeat myself?” she demanded. “I’m telling you that I’m just fine, then.”

  “Felicity, just let them check you out,” I said, looking over in her direction, only to have my head gently turned back forward by a latex-gloved hand and a penlight unceremoniously shone into my eye.