The First Circle

by Paul Perea

  “Oh, is that all? Why don’t you tell me what the hell you were doing following Gloria Rios? And don’t deny it. I saw you even though I pretended not to! You followed her to my house. What I want to know is why! Do you know something about Emma’s death?”

  The raven was not intimidated and ignored the questions. “That baby’s birth shone throughout the void. Such gifts bestowed on that little one.”

  “Okay, so you won’t answer. Well, you’ve offered your congratulations. You may leave now,” Mirabella said sharply and began to walk around him, but the raven stretched out his wings, barring her way.

  “As I passed through the many worlds, visions were presented before my mind’s eye,” the raven said and walked in a circle to face Mirabella. “There were two, and the two were not what they seemed, a silver thread, as delicate as a spider’s web but stronger than rope, joined the two. Or were they bound? I’m not sure.”

  “I don’t have time for riddles,” Mirabella said. “This is a joyous night—let me keep it that way. Now, please go.”

  The raven continued, undeterred by her dismissive remarks. “I think you must delay your travel for a moment to help me decipher this puzzle, for you see, I am not usually unable to—”

  Mirabella interrupted the raven. “Why should I help you? Our relationship has not been one of friendship. In fact, you’re lucky I don’t dispatch you right here and now. I’m warning you, leave before I lose my temper.”

  The great bird shook out his wings and took a few hops, and took to the sky. As he left, he muttered, “I don’t know why you always have to be so disagreeable. You will come to me when you need help. Mark my word.”

  As she approached the door, Mirabella could hear the commotion within. She stopped for a moment and listened as a crescendo of laughter erupted. She smiled.

  Family.

  It had been a long time since they had gathered together. Even Gabriel had left his beloved New Orleans to be there when Ruth gave birth. The occasion had helped lift the anxiety Mirabella had felt since her confrontation with Salazar. She had bested him. She had witnessed the final blow. So why was she uneasy? His words still haunted her waking moments and his near triumph over her kept her from restful sleep.

  She opened the door as Grace was telling a story that had everyone doubled over. “What’s so funny?” Mirabella asked as she put her things away.

  “Grace was just doing her impersonation of Helena Rios,” Salome answered, barely able to get the words out.

  “That’s not very nice,” Mirabella scolded playfully and then turned to her son-in-law. “Sam, I thought you would be a better influence on my daughter.”

  “What can I say?” Sam answered through his laughter.

  “And what about you, my prodigal son? What do you think of your sister’s behavior?” Mirabella asked, but didn’t wait for what would surely be a silly answer. Instead, she grabbed a handful of Gabriel’s hair. “My goodness, you need a haircut!”

  “Did I ever tell you how you got such curly hair?” Joseph asked with a mischievous grin on his face.

  “Oh no, Uncle, not another one of your crazy stories!” Salome joked through a mouthful of food.

  “Just for that, young lady, I’m going to tell it right now!” Joseph said as he pulled up a chair.

  “Well, when Gabriel was born, he had a thick head of hair. But it was straight as a pin. It was so long I think we could have sent him straight to the barber!

  “Let’s see now. I think it was about six months later. Yes, it must have been six months or so when your mother was paid a visit by the three mysterious sisters who live high up in the Jemez Mountains.”

  “Who? I’ve never heard of them,” Grace interrupted.

  “Oh? I can’t believe I’ve never told you their story. Okay, I’ll have to back up a bit,” Joseph said as he leaned forward in his chair.

  “Long ago, three mysterious women arrived in this town. Their names were Mancha, Magdalena and Maria, and they were very powerful witches. No one really knows much about them or where they came from; but there were all kinds of strange tales. Some said that they were not witches at all, but goddesses—immortal beings who were fashioned from cactus, sand and stone—desert deities with the power to change their appearance at will. Other tales spoke of a monster that slumbered deep in a mountain cave, and that Mancha and her sisters were the guardians of the dreadful beast. But here is the tale I know best.

  “Long ago, the sisters had settled in Arroyo, but the villagers were afraid of them and treated them with contempt. After several unpleasant encounters, the villagers chased them out of town. So the sisters journeyed to the top of the mountain where they used their magic to construct a house, with rooms that were built into the mountain itself! Then they enchanted their dwelling, hiding it from anyone who sought to bring harm upon them.

  “One day, an unfortunate farmer and his son ventured into the forest to collect pine nuts. The farmer’s son, by pure accident, discovered the witches’ abode. You see, the boy was an innocent and pure of heart, so the home appeared before his eyes, as did the witches!

  “The boy called out to his father to show him what he had found, but the witches were quick to stop him. Maria and Magdalena grabbed the boy and pulled him into the house. Then Mancha performed a spell, transforming the boy into a coyote.

  “They opened the door and shooed the coyote out. He ran to his father but was unable to speak, and his father, seeing only a coyote, threw rocks at him to chase him away. The father looked everywhere for his boy—even returned with a search party—but the boy was, of course, never found. After the father gave up hope, the sisters decided to restore the boy but they did not free him. Instead, fearing the boy might disclose their whereabouts, they kept him prisoner and forced him to be their servant.

  “After many years, they found that they enjoyed having a servant to wait on them, but the boy had grown to be a strong young man. Fearing that he might harm them, they decided to work their terrible spell again, and transformed him back into a coyote and sent him out into the wilderness.

  “The sisters decided they would seek out another youngster, and what better place to do so than Arroyo? I suppose they thought it served the villagers right for treating them so poorly, so they made a plan. But this time, they would not kidnap a child. This time they would take the child directly from his family and raise him as their own. This would show the villagers what they had brought upon themselves!

  “Near their home was a hot spring that they used for magical purposes. When they got restless, for some fun, they would visit the spring and drop three magic crystals into the water. One crystal for each sister. As they bathed, a startling transformation would take place. They would become young and beautiful again! The spell would last only until the next full moon so the sisters would travel from town to town and carry on, drinking, smoking, dancing, and doing a few other things I’d better not say in mixed company.

  “One day, Mancha sat down in front of her crystal ball and discovered that a beautiful baby boy resided in a house on the outskirts of Arroyo. She called her sisters over to have a look and they all agreed that this would be their child.

  “‘Let’s ready ourselves!’ Mancha said to her sisters. ‘I want to see this child firsthand!’

  “They took their dip in the spring, becoming young and beautiful again. They took their time making themselves presentable. They did up their hair and donned their finest clothing and jewelry. Once they were pleased with their appearance, they prepared to pay a visit. You see, it was Gabriel whom they had spied in their crystal ball.

  “The sisters traveled in the most unusual way. Not on brooms, like some witches. Nor did they shape-shift into some winged creature. Instead, they transformed into tumbleweeds, tumbling down the mountain in great arcs, cackling all the way.

  “That night, I was sitting with your mother an
d father, enjoying a nice quiet evening, when all of a sudden we heard what sounded like the roar of a train coming to a stop right in front of the house! What followed next was the daintiest tap on the door. We looked at each other and wondered, ‘Who in the world could be visiting so late in the evening?’ Your father got up, walked over to the door, and opened it. There they stood, Mancha in front, with Maria and Magdalena standing side by side behind her.

  “‘Woman, we are here to see your son!’ Mancha announced, rudely ignoring your father and addressing your mother directly. ‘If we find him exceptional, we will grant you any wish if you will allow us to take him away.’

  “Mancha reached out and firmly moved your father aside. Maria and Magdalena fell in line behind her and marched into the house. As they entered, the fire in the fireplace roared higher and all of the candles in the house ignited. The whole house was lit up bright as day!

  “Your mother knew not to insult the witches, else some horrible thing be visited upon us all. ‘Dear ladies,’ your mother said, ‘I will present my son to you but I beg you not to take him away from us. He is our only son and will be obliged to carry on our family name when he becomes a man.’

  “Mancha studied your mother through narrow eyes. ‘This is not up for debate! Now, stop with your fretting and bring the child to me at once!’

  “Mirabella looked at the three women and went to the bedroom and wrapped Gabriel tightly in a blanket.”

  Joseph turned and looked at Gabriel. “You were fast asleep and all we could see was your little round sleeping face. Your mother carried you into the living room and delivered you into Mancha’s waiting arms. Your father and I didn’t dare move or speak. Maria and Magdalena gathered on either side of Mancha and they all gazed upon you. As they did, you opened your blue eyes and looked right at each one of them, as if you were studying them, as if you knew them. Then you gave them the biggest smile they had ever seen and they squealed with delight.

  “Mancha moved the blanket away from your head and the static electricity of the blanket caused your long dark hair to stand up in spikes. The sisters laughed at this and you laughed back, which made them laugh even more. You see, even as a baby, you already knew how to charm everyone.

  “‘What splendid hair!’ they exclaimed as three chairs magically moved to where they stood. They sat down to coo and smile at you, then the most surprising thing happened. The three of them were playing with your hair, twisting it around their long fingers, and by the time they were finished, you had a big head of curly dark hair and it’s been that way ever since!”

  Salome pulled on Gabriel’s hair and joked, “Now that we know how he got this rat’s nest, tell us how he got such a big nose!”

  Everyone laughed, as Gabriel pulled her onto his lap and tickled her as she begged him to stop.

  “Stop that,” Mirabella scolded. “You’ll make her pee!”

  The room erupted in laughter and even Mirabella laughed in spite of herself.

  “So what happened? Obviously Gabriel is still here with us so—” Grace asked.

  “Ah, yes. Well, your mother, being the shrewd woman that she is, made a bargain with Mancha. She told them that if they left Gabriel alone, she would freely give up all other sons she would bear. Mancha considered the deal, as we all sat holding our breath. Finally, and to our surprise, she agreed to the pact.

  “Then they promptly sat down, and ate up all the beans, tortillas, chili and tamales—not to mention, all of our whiskey. When they were quite drunk and satisfied, they bid us all farewell and staggered out the door.

  “Little did they expect that your mother decided from that moment on, she would only have daughters!”

  Salome rolled her eyes as everyone laughed. “Very funny.”

  “Do you think they still live in the mountains?” Grace asked.

  “Grace, it’s just a story. For goodness sakes, don’t believe everything your uncle tells you!” Mirabella said, then turned to Sam and smiled. “Witches in the Jemez Mountains! Have you ever heard such nonsense? As if such things exist!”

  Sam nodded his head. “Yeah, but you know the people in this town. They believe in all that stuff. I mean, for God’s sakes, people say that all of you are—”

  Sam felt his face flush as the room fell silent on his words. “Well, who cares what the people in this town say? I mean, even my buddy claims he saw a werewolf in the bosque.”

  “What?” Mirabella asked as the color left her face.

  “Aw, he was just drunk. Me and some of the fellas were over at the Puerta Azul Cantina and he was going on and on about how he saw this man crawling on all fours. He said it looked like the flesh was torn from the man’s face, and what was left was scorched and burnt. But he said what scared him the most was that the man looked right at him and grinned. He said his mouth was full of sharp teeth, like goddamned fangs—then the man disappeared into thin air.”

  “When was this?” Mirabella asked with a tremble in her voice.

  “Yesterday,” Sam chuckled, shook his head, and went back to eating.

  CHAPTER 8

  In the chill of December, with the pink swept sky shimmering and all her world tucked safely indoors, Mirabella stood at the edge of the woods shivering and alone. The path before her was sprinkled with fresh snow, but the trail was still discernable. The trees stood with their arms outstretched, bare, a line of slender sentinels that hid nothing. But even so, the river was still too far from view.

  “It’s been seven years,” Mirabella whispered, her words hanging in frigid air. “You’ve gone silent but I know you’re out there, waiting for me. I’ve wondered. Oh, how I’ve wondered. Was Sam’s account true? Did you survive? My soul tells me that you did—that you live.

  “I only injured you, didn’t I? Perhaps you’re biding your time. Healing. Conspiring. You want me to come closer, don’t you? You want revenge.”

  She took two steps and then stopped, the dread an impenetrable wall. She held out one gloved hand but there was nothing there. No wall. No monster. Only her fear. She pulled the buckskin jacket tight, took a deep breath, and exhaled, but this action did nothing to buoy her courage.

  “You never confessed what you had planned for Daniel Rios, but I took care in that matter. I kept my promise. I put on a spell. That boy will never return to Arroyo—never. But you know that, don’t you? You watch me. I feel it. No matter how hard I try to hide, you’re there.”

  Her words were met with the sharp crack of distant gunfire. She jumped at the sound and stood listening. It was far away, but she knew the source. Hunters. Even so, Mirabella remained stationary, with only the icy silence of the winter’s day to speak to.

  “Yes, Salazar, I’ll admit it. I am afraid of what you’ll do should we ever meet again, but even greater is my fear of what might happen if I don’t act. Know this, devil or whatever you are, I have come here today to deal with you once and for all. The thought of you has been my constant companion all these years. I can’t go on like this . . . living in fear . . . afraid of every loud noise or creaking floor. Today, I put an end to it.”

  The snow compressed under her boots as she stepped onto the path and walked briskly though the trees, her hands shoved deep in her jacket pockets, her shoulders tensed and hunched. She looked from side to side, eyes darting, studying the landscape, scrutinizing any movement as her breath kept pace with her stride. Her only company was the sound of the crunching snow under her fast, heavy march.

  Mirabella reached the river and was surprised to find that the Rio Grande had frozen over completely.

  This is odd, she thought, as she crouched down and placed her gloved hand on the ice. It felt thick to the touch. A light layer of snow glistened on top like diamonds under the waning light. Mirabella looked up at the sky, no longer pink. The setting sun had washed the sky in orange and blue and it would be dark soon. And she feared the darkness.
>
  “I’ve found the solution. I’ve come to lock the door to the portal,” she whispered as she walked tentatively onto the ice, focusing on each sliding step, alert for any sign of thin ice. She kept a slow pace, one foot at a time, searching for weakness, tapping, until she found herself standing in the center of the river.

  Jesus walked on water.

  These words twisted in her head as she removed her right glove and fished an object out of her pocket. It was shaped like a crucifix—but instead of the bound feet of Jesus, the long end of the cross was a key. Mirabella kissed it and held it high in her hand, and began an incantation. The words held a power that both tantalized and frightened her. It was an ancient spell.

  “Terra, Terra, ava la Terra, lasta, lifta, entra. Jesu, incantasa, barrage lo portal!” Over and over she whispered the words.

  Beneath the ice a faint, bluish light grew and expanded, and within the strange glow there seemed to be movement. Was it him? Mirabella tensed and looked down. A host of bodies turned and twisted, beating the thick ice with their fists. Undeterred by the horrific sight, Mirabella continued her chant until the sound of breaking twigs interrupted her recitations. She turned to find a wolf pack staring at her, the alpha watching her with translucent blue eyes.

  Mirabella held her breath as she looked at the great beast.

  “Salazar?”

  The wolf shook his head and waited. Relieved, Mirabella took a deep breath and knelt down as the alpha walked confidently onto the ice towards her. She put the key down and kneaded the wolf’s head and ears as the beast licked her hands and face.

  “You must go. I have work to do and you might be hurt if you stay,” Mirabella said as she pressed her face into the wolf’s neck and kissed him.

  The wolf’s thoughts entered her mind. You cannot do this thing.

  “I have to protect my family. This is the only way,” she explained.

  This is not the way, the wolf replied. This audacious act will cause untold suffering!