The First Circle

by Paul Perea

“But if I do this, Salazar will be unable to enter into my world! I’m the only one who can stop him!” Mirabella pleaded.

  I must warn you. Locking this portal won’t keep the demon at bay. There are other doors!

  “What? What do you mean?” Mirabella asked.

  The demon sends his monsters. Go! Save yourself, Mirabella! the wolf cried, then turned and ran as splintered lines fanned out along the frozen river. The crackling and splitting ice echoed throughout the bosque. The wolves followed the alpha into the woods and soon the pack was gone from sight.

  Alarmed by the breaking ice, Mirabella bent, retrieved the key, and shoved it in her pocket as a hand reached up and grabbed her ankle. Her screams echoed throughout the frozen wood as she was pulled down and through. The cold water collided with exposed skin, forcing her mouth open, shocking her system. Arms flailing, she struggled and fought for air, and managed to anchor an elbow onto the ice. She screamed again as the wraiths took hold of her legs and pulled her back down.

  It was quiet under the ice. Faces stared back at her through the cold, dark water. Panicked, Mirabella felt the pull of the current and looked up as she drifted away from the hole. She fought and kicked free of the wraiths, and quickly conjured pentagrams. Gleaming discs, stars encircled, slicing through the wraiths and dispatching the monstrous beings, ending their pursuit.

  Mirabella swam against the current toward the hole in the ice, struggling as the weight of her frozen clothes sought to pull her down. Her movements slowed, consciousness and strength was leaving her. Then from above, a hand shot into the water, searching. With all her strength, she lurched upward and grasped it. She felt her forearm gripped firmly as her body was pulled to safety.

  “We got you! We got you!” the man cried. “Thank God!”

  Mirabella recognized the voice as her body was rolled onto the ice. She looked but her eyelashes were frozen and she couldn’t see. Tremors jolted her body. She shivered uncontrollably. She felt someone take hold of her arms and another take hold of her legs.

  “Got her. Easy now . . . easy,” the man cautioned.

  Her head lolled as she strained to open her eyes. She could hear the cracking. She could feel her saviors slipping as they moved slowly along the frozen river towards land. They were saying something to her but she could not answer. She tried to speak but sleep was closing in fast. Letting go would be so easy. There was no fight left within her. She would succumb.

  “Don’t sleep, Mari! Stay awake! Stay with me! Your Tiny is here. Me an’ Jake got you!”

  Mirabella heard him and tried to smile. But was she smiling? She couldn’t feel the movement. She attempted to open her mouth but there was no voice, no sound.

  But she could hear.

  In the distance, the wolves howled and the wind whispered through the trees. She surrendered to sleep, knowing that she was safe, that she was with friends, and that somewhere in the wilderness, the wolves stood watch.

  CHAPTER 9

  The monsoons arrived early. After the coldest winter on record, with snowfall to match, the Rio Grande valley had sprung to life. And while farmers were happy to have a reprieve from irrigating their fields, they watched the Rio with a wary eye as she crept over her boundaries and flooded parts of the bosque. The roads in Arroyo matched the mud-colored adobe walls, and travel on foot was a slow and messy business.

  Salome didn’t care. She looked out at the soft falling rain and decided it was time to get out of the house or else she would go out of her mind.

  “Why didn’t I stay longer in New Orleans with Gabriel?” she asked, addressing Max who looked at her with one eye raised. “Even in the rain you can find a nice tavern to pass some time. I could be at the Café Du Monde drinking chicory coffee and eating beignets with Gabriel, watching interesting people come and go. But I missed you too much, Max!”

  Salome bent down and deposited a kiss on the dog’s forehead even as homesick memories of her recent trip to New Orleans, and of her brother, plagued her. Her thoughts turned to a particular night when they had been drinking—a bit too much. Gabriel had gone to his closet and pulled out some trousers, a shirt, some suspenders and a hat, and threw them in a heap on her lap. He playfully ordered her to get dressed. Gabriel knew that she would be game for anything and she did as he asked—she dressed as a man. And never had she felt freer, more comfortable, more herself.

  “Well, if we’re going to go out in this rain, I’m certainly not doing it dressed like this!” Salome groaned and fell back onto her bed, and undid the ties on her long skirt. She shimmied out of it, kicking the tangled material onto the floor. She stood up and eyed her image in the mirrored door of her dressing bureau.

  It’s true. I do look like my mother, she thought as she ran her hands along her cheeks and through her hair. She turned slightly and studied the profile of her body with a critical eye.

  “Everyone says I look like her, but I sure don’t have her figure!”

  Standing in her undergarments and stocking feet, she laughed in spite of herself. “You know what, Max? I still have the clothes I borrowed from Gabriel. Why the hell not wear them?”

  Salome knelt at the side of her bed and peered underneath, straining for the out-of-reach trunk. She lay on the floor, stretching her body until she grasped the handle, and pulled it toward her. With a quick flick of the latches, she opened it and there, neatly folded, were Gabriel’s clothes.

  It was of no concern to Salome whether people were shocked or amused to see her walking through town dressed as she was, she and Max under the large umbrella, trying to stay dry in the misty rain. Still, people watched her pass with a shake of the head and judgment on their faces. And for those who dared to ask, Salome took the opportunity to tease them.

  “Hey Sal, where you off to dressed like that?”

  “I’m running away to join the circus,” she answered proudly, leaving the man slack-jawed.

  After a handful of encounters, she and Max finally reached Sara and Jacob Henderson’s apple orchard on the south end of town. Once past the orchard, they made a sharp turn toward the woods along a narrow but well-worn path. She knew where to look and was sure she’d be successful in finding the mushrooms she and her mother enjoyed. If the river’s current was slow, she would wade into the water and bring back some pretty river rocks for Gabriella.

  The rain was dissipating and the bosque was lush and suffocating with humidity. The trail was muddy and plants had grown so large that the path was almost indiscernible, but Max knew the way and flushed out birds and rabbits as he went. Salome stopped to take it all in.

  “Max, I’m getting tired of Arroyo. I think you and I should move away,” she called out to her dog, who cocked his head and perked up his ears.

  Salome laughed and whistled for him. In response, Max turned about and came running full stride toward her, bounding over fallen branches and small shrubs. He stopped abruptly at her feet, tail wagging and mouth open, waiting for a word from his mistress. Salome grabbed each side of his face and kissed his muzzle, then went about the task of gathering the mushrooms and dropping them into her satchel. It was a task she enjoyed, and she was happy with her decision to wear Gabriel’s heavy dungarees.

  “How easy it is to go about one’s tasks without the constraints of a dress. I swear I may never wear one again,” she said to Max, who looked at her as if he understood, panted his response, then went back to sniffing his way through the underbrush.

  Satisfied with her haul, Salome sat down on the muddy ground, removed her boots and socks, and rolled up her pants. The peaceful Rio Grande moved lazily on its trek and she was momentarily mesmerized by the play of light shimmering on the water’s surface. It twinkled like a million stars, a million wishes to be made. She closed her eyes and made only one, then stood up and waded into the cool water, picking up stones and tossing them into her open satchel, the rocks clicking against each other l
ike a game of marbles.

  Minnow darted about and dashed away in choreographed groups as she reached for one stone and then another. Gabriella was of the age where she loved pretty things, no matter what they were, and these rocks would be as great as any shiny toy she would receive for her birthday. Salome smiled as she imagined the two of them sitting together, taking turns with the crank of the tumbler to polish the rocks, bringing their hidden colors to a luster.

  A low, deep growl caught Salome’s attention and she looked over to see why Max was alarmed. She scanned the area, unable to make out anything until her eyes located the source. Partially hidden in the thick of the brush she could make out a large dog looking at her. Its mouth was parted and the canines were long, sharp and glistening with spittle. The dog emerged slowly from behind the bushes, its massive chest heaving with each breath, its red-rimmed blue eyes fixed on Salome.

  “My God, it’s rabid,” Salome whispered, unable to contain her fright at the sight of the enormous brute. Her heart pounded as she looked around, thinking fast for a plan as Max lowered his head and prepared to protect his mistress.

  “Noo, boooy,” Salome ordered sternly, stretching her words, hoping Max would take heed.

  “Maaax, come here to me.”

  It was too late. Before she could react, both dogs bolted, the ferocious dog in the direction of Salome, Max in the direction of the attacker. Salome screamed and threw rocks at the beast but none hit their intended mark. It was all happening too fast. Max had hit the dog from the side and his mouth was clamped on the ferocious dog’s thick neck. The large beast reeled about and easily broke free—all Salome could see was a tumble of fur and fangs.

  Max would be no match for this dog. It was too big, too strong and making fast work of overcoming him. She needed to do something or else her beloved Max would be killed, and she would be next. Salome struggled to shore, crying out an incantation and raising her arms to the sky. Above her, a dark cloud pulsed with energy. She looked to see Max lying motionless on his side and the sinister beast rushing toward her. With one hand raised to the sky and the other pointed at the charging animal, Salome conducted a bolt of lightning that passed through her and hit her target. With an anguished yelp, the dog flew through the air and into the woods.

  Salome ran to Max and knelt down. He was still breathing, but severely injured. His short dark coat was matted with dirt, saliva and blood. With no thought for herself or the insane beast that attacked them, she lifted Max in her arms and made her way through the woods as her mind worked to stop the bleeding. She murmured the spell and felt the wounds on his body respond, but to her dismay, she also sensed his life slipping away.

  By the time she reached the fields near the Henderson’s orchard, her bare feet were bloodied and her legs and arms were starting to give out under the forty-pound weight of her beloved dog. Salome saw Jacob Henderson working in his orchard, and through heavy sobs, she screamed for help.

  “Jake! Help me! Max is dying! We were attacked!” Salome screamed and fell to her knees.

  Jacob ran toward them, and in one swift movement, lifted Max and held him tight against his barrel chest. “What the hell happened?”

  “We were attacked. A dog—the biggest one I’ve ever seen!” Salome explained, out of breath and sobbing.

  “Let’s get him to Juan Lucero. Hopefully he’ll be home!” Jacob said as he kept at his jog.

  “Do you think he’ll be able to help?” Salome cried.

  “He’s one helluva horse doctor and he’s all we’ve got,” Jacob answered, glancing at Salome, surveying the blood and dirt covering her clothes and face. “Are you hurt, Sal? My God! I didn’t even think to ask!”

  “I’m alright. Just shaken up. Oh, Jake, is Max going to be okay?” She started to sob again as they hurried up the road.

  “I’ll make sure Lucero does his best, but I gotta tell you, Max isn’t looking so good. What happened to the dog that attacked you? It made meat outta poor old Max. How the hell did you get away?”

  Salome was used to questions that called for an explanation, or rather a lie, to cover up what she had done. But those had been under normal circumstances, not under this kind of duress. Excuses escaped her, so she allowed her sobs to turn into a crying jag.

  “Now, now, honey. Stop your crying. We’ll get Max fixed up good. You’ll see,” Jacob said as they trotted toward Juan Lucero’s barn.

  Salazar lay on his back writhing in pain. He had hit the ground hard and his chest was still smoldering from the blow he took. Despite the pain, he laughed.

  “She is not the one,” he said aloud to himself, “but the bitch sure packs one hell of a punch.”

  CHAPTER 10

  The hours seemed like an eternity before Juan Lucero finally entered the house and told Salome he thought Max might pull through. His explanations were lost on her as she let her tears flow in relief. She buried her face in Jacob’s chest, while he held her and offered assurances.

  “May I see him?” she asked through sobs as she wiped the wetness from her flushed face.

  “Sure. Come on, but he won’t know you’re here. I cleaned him up and knocked him out with some tranquilizers. Sal, you should know he ain’t outta the woods yet,” Juan said, running a hand through his thick disheveled hair.

  Salome stepped out of Jacob’s embrace and hugged Juan tightly, thanking him over and over until he blushed and pulled away.

  “Is it okay if I have a moment alone with him?” Salome asked.

  “Go ahead,” Juan answered as he opened the door to the barn and shut it behind her.

  Max lay on an old blanket on the floor, his back to her, his side moving up and down with each labored breath. The tears came again as Salome studied his body. His coat was now clean and bandaged, his ears were standing straight, and his short tail was resting on the floor. Her body went limp and she succumbed to her sorrow as she joined Max on the floor and put an arm around him. Salome buried her face in his fur and sobbed.

  “You know, when I first saw you, you were the runt of the litter. Nobody wanted you. But I did. When I saw you, it was love at first sight. Ever since then, it’s been just you and me. You’re my best friend and I love you more than anyone. Please don’t die on me, Max. Don’t leave me alone . . . I don’t think I could take it,” she whispered into his ear, crying uncontrollably as she stroked the length of his body. She remained on the floor with him until Juan and Jacob entered and told her it was time to go.

  Salome was mute, defeated and spent as Jacob helped her hobble back to his house. Any attempt at speaking would catch in her throat and only sobs would come.

  “Well there you are! I was wondering where you had disappeared to,” Sara shouted good-naturedly as they entered the house. Upon closer inspection, she could see the dried blood and dirt on their clothes and started to panic. “Oh my goodness! What happened to you two?”

  “We’re okay, honey. Sal and Max got attacked by a stray dog down by the river and Max got pretty bit up. We dropped him off with Juan, and it looks like he’s gonna be okay but I think we need to take care of our girl here.”

  Sara took a limping Salome by the arm and led her to the guest bedroom. She looked over her shoulder at Jacob, who waved her on with his hand and gave her a wink for assurance that all was okay.

  “Come here, dear. Let’s get you out of these dirty clothes. I’ll have Rosa set up a nice, hot bath and then we’ll bandage those cuts on your feet.”

  “I don’t want to be any trouble, Sara. Maybe I should just go home.”

  “Oh, you’re never any trouble and you certainly don’t look like you’re in any condition to be going anywhere. I’ll send one of the boys over to let Mari know that you’re here and that you’re all right. There’s a robe in the bureau. You get ready for your bath and I’ll find something for you to sleep in. I’m sure I have something that will fit you,” Sara said a
s she left the room.

  Salome looked at herself in the mirror, her hands clutching each side of her face as she assessed the dried blood and dirt. Max’ blood. Silent tears streamed down her face as she heard the water being poured into the bathing tub by the housekeeper. As she undressed, thoughts of Max and the attack washed over her. If only she had struck sooner. If only she had stayed home. Her regrets were interrupted by Sara calling through the door.

  “Sweetie, the bath is ready. Go on in and I’ll fix you some tea. I think I still have some of your mom’s Yerba Buena.”

  “Thanks Sara,” Salome answered. She walked into the bathroom and was immediately embraced by the warmth and humidity of the hot water. She stepped out of the robe, grabbed the bar of soap, and slid slowly into the tub.

  Sara found Jacob sitting at the kitchen table drinking a beer and looking deep in thought. Normally she would scold him for having a beer before dinner.

  “Jake, what the hell happened? I have never in all my life seen that girl so shaken up, and we both know it takes a lot to upset Sal.”

  Jacob told Sara what he knew of the events while Sara prepared some tea and food for Salome. When he had finished with his story, he stood up, went to his gun rack, and removed his hunting rifle.

  “And just what do you think you’re going to do?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

  “Gonna call on a few friends. If there’s a wild dog out there, we better deal with it before someone ends up hurt or dead. Sal thought the thing could be rabid. We’ll take a look around and see what we find. Don’t worry, honey, I’ll be back before dark.”

  Sara knew better than to argue. Once he made up his mind to do something, she may as well talk to the wall. Instead, she threw her arms around his neck, pressing tightly against him as she kissed him.

  “Be careful.”

  “I will. I promise.” Even after years of marriage, a simple kiss from her still caused his body to react. If circumstances were different, he would have taken her right there on the floor. To him, Sara was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and even after five children, she still had the figure of a woman half her age.