“Very well.” I nodded. “We’ll get things in motion and select someone to work on battle strategies.”
Bren gave a single nod, conceding before he heard the rest of my sentence.
I delivered my message with the force of night after night of surviving that nightmare of sobbing children, and I looked him directly in the eyes when I spoke. “And then I’m going with you.”
***
Chapter Eleven
“No.” I got up from my chair and snarled at Jazz. “You’re not coming with us. I’m not about to put you into that kind of danger.”
Her cheeks reddened. She pressed her palms flat on the tabletop. A few gold sparks crackled at the ends of her fingertips. “There will be no discussion on the matter. I am going.”
I started to argue with her, then realized we had an audience, and every person or being in the room was staring at us. Acaw’s crow-brother—well, he insisted he was my crow-brother now—gave a caw so loud it hurt my ear. “Yeah, yeah,” I muttered to him, but glared at Jazz as I said, “We’ll talk about this later.”
Jazz looked like she was ready to snap at me. Instead she raised her chin and turned back to the crowd. “We will break into two groups now. The group that will work on preparations for the possibility of invasion is to go to the left side of the room. The other group that will work on defense and escape, please gather on the right.”
When chairs squeaked and murmuring started as the representatives broke into groups, I turned my gaze on Jazz and told her again, “You and I will talk.”
Fire flamed in her golden eyes. “I am going. End of story.” She turned away from me and with her chin high went to the group that would be working on measures to take against the possibility of invasion.
I shoved my chair so that it scooted up to the table and my crow-brother clung to my shoulder. I gritted my teeth as I strode over to the defense-and-escape group. How I was going to make her stay, short of figuring out how to magically tie her up, I didn’t know. But I was sure going to try.
A few days after the Council meeting I was in the oldeTowne repository again. God, I was sick of books. Big books, little books, medium-sized books, old books, new books—if I never saw another sheaf of paper and printing, it would be too soon. But we were running out of time.
Dad was monitoring Spellnet. Dame Corey was supervising harpy patrols and trying to keep an eye on the Path and the Sanctuaries.
Jazz was outside putting the Shadow witches through their paces. I swear, I would have given anything to be in her place, but the refugees wouldn’t listen to me. I usually drilled the oldeFolke and modern witches, those who could and would fight. But for a few hours at the end of each day, I stayed in the archives.
Grinding my teeth, I kept thumbing through the forbidden scrolls and tomes under the watchful beak of the disapproving bird-like scrollkeeper. I rubbed my eyes for a moment, trying to ease the headache from reading so much with only dim light cast by candles and sconces. One day, we had to convince the oldeFolke to let us run electricity at least to the repository. If I weren’t already so tired, I would have used my magic to turn my sword into a silvery torch. But I was tired. Beat, in fact. It was probably still light outside, but who could tell in the dark, moldy-smelling archives.
With a sigh I focused on the next scroll. My crow-brother ruffled his feathers and bobbed his head as he read along with me. He gave a few clicks and clucks, telling me to hurry, and I thought about blackbird pie. He could be annoying at times.
A partially healed Dralz, along with Quinn, a Keeper, and Helden, were helping me search the ancient text as we tried to find oldeMagic that would enable us to protect the witches. Like Jazz said, we needed something better than the Path that could be used by all witches. Something that couldn’t be unmade, couldn’t be broken, couldn’t be infected by evil. Some way for witches to get away from trouble, no matter what, no matter who was there to help them.
But what?
Working beside Quinn didn’t make me too happy. The guy gave me the creeps, and even though Jazz didn’t really kiss him, I couldn’t get that image out of my head. Besides, the guy seemed to be too excited to be poring over our archives, and I wasn’t sure I liked him around all those important documents. But Jazz trusted him, and the Dana’Kell had selected him as their representative, so I didn’t have much choice. The Keeper kept eyeing him, too, and every now and then I heard a soft snarl from her that I knew was directed at Quinn. In my mood, I almost wished she would munch down on him.
Helden was pretty quiet as she handled each book and scroll with care, as if they might crumble in her fingertips.
Dralz never once looked up from studying her own set of ancient tomes, other than to set one aside and grab another one with her gnarled fingers. Her hag-spirit bobbed back and forth, looking like it was reading, too.
I wondered if her hag-spirit communicated with her the same way my crow-brother talked to me. Not long after he’d decided to stick to me like glue, I began to understand what he was saying, and I could even speak with him in the same bird language. Even though he’d been Acaw’s crow-brother, it never occurred to me that he had magic, and that he was more than just an irritating bird. At first his magic had surprised me, but after slithers, eggplant beauty queens, and a child-eating shapeshifter who looked like a hairy five year old, that was nothing.
Thinking of Acaw made my gut clench and I ground my teeth. That Erlking was going to pay, big time.
In between studying the ancient text of one scroll after another, my thoughts kept hopping back to Jazz. Trying to convince her to stay in L.O.S.T. was turning out to be just as hard as I thought it would be. She wouldn’t even talk to me the few moments we were around each other. She just kept finding excuses to be somewhere else.
It was getting late by the time I started looking through the Wytches Book of Tyme. It was an incredibly old, ragged-looking, black leather-bound book of aged parchment. Most of the passages didn’t make sense to me.
But then I stopped when I came across a page with a large circle with symbols taking up most of the parchment. Below it was a smudged, nearly unintelligible verse.
So the lyte brings darkness,
Ande the Cyrcle borne of stone,
Turn ye tyme ande earth ande water
Turn ye wynd ande fyre ande moon,
Joyn e ye ancyent patterns neverendyng
Or know thy fynal doom.
—Passage MCLXXX
I frowned. The rhyme didn’t make a bit of sense, but the circle intrigued me. It was double-ringed with strange symbols all around it. Yet they were familiar.
“Zodiac symbols,” I murmured aloud as I leaned a little more forward to study it better. A zodiac circle.
The Circle. The stones. Our Circle…
I placed my fingers on the symbol for Leo, my zodiac sign.
The symbol began to glow. The birthstone resting against my chest started to heat up. Power, incredible power, built within me and I felt like I was glowing.
I snatched my hand back and immediately the glow faded, my sardonyx cooled, and the feeling of power slipped away. My crow-brother ruffled his wings and squawked something about “being careful.”
Careful of what?
It was then that I realized everyone in the room was watching me. I glanced up to see Dralz and her hag-spirit leaning close enough that I wanted to scoot my chair sideways. Helden had pulled up a chair beside me, Quinn was looking over my shoulder, but the Keeper was staring at Quinn.
Everyone was silent while I turned back to the book. My heart beat a little faster as I read the passage aloud this time, translating it into simple English.
The circle born of stone
Turn time and earth and water
Turn wind and fire and moon
Join ancient patterns neverending
Or know your final doom.
Circle. Earth. Water. Fire. Moon. No, something was missing. Air. Why was it moon instead of air?
&nb
sp; “What do you think it means?” Helden asked softly, holding her starstone in one fist while she laid the fingers of her other hand on my arm.
I felt a strange sort of zing from the contact, as if her stone was talking with mine. “Touch your birth sign,” I told her.
She moved her fingers from my arm, reached out, and touched her symbol. Immediately it flared, even brighter than mine had. The stone she was holding glowed through her fist and she jerked her other hand away from the book. Our eyes met and I saw both fear and excitement in her expression. “What just happened?”
“I don’t know.” I studied the page and the verse again. “But something tells me this is what we’re looking for.” I glanced up and looked from Dralz to the Keeper to Quinn and finally to Helden. “Find anything you can relating to the zodiac or a zodiac circle.”
Dralz gave what sounded like a cluck of approval and moved from the bookstand to a section of the scrolls we hadn’t gotten to yet. Probably the oldest of them all.
Quinn leaned over the Wytches Book of Tyme and I swore I saw a flicker of fire, even greed in his strange eyes. Maybe it was the light from the sconces, but it made my skin crawl.
Dralz returned and shoved Quinn out of the way so that the red-robed priest stumbled. He cut the hag a glare so murderous that I felt the urge to draw my sword. But then the look passed and once again his features returned to irritatingly serene.
The hag opened her book next to mine, and a cloud of dust rose up from it and made me sneeze. She mumbled to herself as she slowly scanned one page at a time. Helden, Quinn, and the Keeper returned to looking through other scrolls and tomes and the bird-like scrollkeeper clucked in disapproval. I think she was muttering something about placing a hex on anyone who even slightly damaged a volume, but I wasn’t sure.
I got up and went to the same section Dralz had gone through. I was about to select a book when my crow-brother made his clicking noises, telling me to choose another—the thin green leather-bound book that was a shelf down and three books to the left.
When I pulled it out, my stone grew warm against my chest, my fingers tingled, and my heart pounded faster. Painted in gold leaf on the front cover of the green volume was a zodiac circle.
I returned to the table where Dralz sat poring over her ancient volume. The moment I set the green volume down, she gave me what appeared to be a haggy smile of approval.
In the ancient language common to the oldeFolke, she said, “Read it, boy.”
I cracked open the book, and the first thing I saw was another zodiac circle with a passage beneath it. I did my best to read the passage aloud, and tried not to butcher it.
Wytch Cyrcle, power flowing,
Call the skies ande stars and moons,
Wytch Cyrcle, power growing,
Magyk flowing through the runes.
From the Cyrcle fly the stones
Untyl dyre fate calls each one home
To turn tyme ande earth ande water,
To turn wynd ande fyre ande moon,
To joyn ancyent patterns neverendyng
And free wytches from theyr doom.
“Yessss,” the hag hissed then continued in the olde language. “The Zodiac is a map and a clock of the heavens.”
I frowned. “A map and a clock? Is it a map of time?”
“A map through time,” she said and her hag-spirit bobbed in apparent agreement.
A map through time? Without really thinking about it, I placed my palm against the circle of zodiac symbols. Again fire and power burned through me, only this time images flashed inside my head.
Todd. Standing in a circle of stones. He looked pale, drawn, and as if he could barely keep to his feet. Around his neck hung a chain with his birthstone—a bloodstone.
I was suddenly jerked out of the vision and I snatched my hand away from the zodiac circle. My breathing came hard, and my gut clenched. Had that really been Todd? Were the zodiac and my stone trying to tell me something?
I wanted to see more of Todd, see if it could tell me where to find him, but when I put my palm on the circle again, it told me nothing.
My crow-brother and I read through more of the book. He translated to me quietly in my ear because Quinn was totally creeping me out and I didn’t want him to hear. The text said if wielded properly, the circle born of stone—the Witch Circle—could reopen ancient gateways through time, which were located at twelve strategic points across the world.
Using zodiac circles, witches could move to anywhere, at any time, basically live outside of time, and be safe from persecution. It went on to say that every witch possessed the ability to transport themselves to the nearest minor zodiac circle, not one of the ancient twelve Witch Circles, but one created by any witch using the proper spells. The spells for that were in the book, if we decoded them correctly. According to the book, all minor zodiac circles served as conduits to the twelve ancient circles, again if the proper spell was used.
My eyes crossed as I tried to absorb the information. Just as I went to turn another page—
The room exploded.
A loud boom shattered the air.
In the seconds it took to comprehend what was happening, shelves splintered and shot from the center of the repository like wooden knives. Something hard slammed into the back of my head. The force of the blow knocked me sideways and I fell to the floor with a crash.
My crow-brother shrieked and took to the sky through what was once a ceiling.
Paper and parchment whooshed upward and outward like thousands of pale birds. Sconces crashed to the floor and fire roared as the flames began to eat paper and wood.
Shrieks and cries met my ears as I scrambled to my feet, and I heard more booming noises like bombs were going off. My head spun and I staggered into Helden who had blood pouring down the side of her face.
Heat blazed from the fire making its way toward us.
In my daze it barely occurred to me to draw my sword. I unsheathed it, jabbed it into the air and shouted, “Stop!”
Nothing happened. I tried it again. Nothing happened.
Smoke filled my nostrils and I clenched the hilt of my sword. I had to get everyone out of the repository.
As I choked and coughed from the smoke, I started shoving Helden toward the exit. Quinn, the birdy scrollkeeper, and the Keeper were already there. The exit was blocked.
“Out of the way!” I shouted over the roar of the blaze growing hotter behind me. I pointed my sword at the wall and put all of my magic into the power that burst through the blade. Silver light slammed through the wall and debris, and opened a huge hole. “Hurry!” I shouted as I pushed them through, while mentally running through who had been in the room with us.
Outside, my crow-brother shrieked and squawked. I shut him out, trying to concentrate. Helden, Quinn, the bird-thing, the Keeper—and—and—
Dralz!
I whirled to see her collapsed over the table, the wall of flame nearly licking her robes. A sick feeling swept through me as I saw chunks of wood buried in the hag’s backside. Her hag-spirit was lying limply around her shoulders.
My eyes watered from the smoke, my skin felt blistered with heat, and I couldn’t stop coughing. I rushed to Dralz and tried to drag her from the flames. She raised her head and at the same time pushed toward me two books she’d been shielding with her body. “Save these!” she commanded. “Make haste!”
I didn’t want to worry about stupid books when the hag was injured so badly, but the urgency in her voice was unmistakable. I tried lifting her from the seat with one arm, but she slid out of my grip, struck the chair, and fell to the floor. Her eyes open and unseeing. Her hag-spirit gone.
Dralz was dead.
I snatched the books from the table just as flames reached the wood and bit into Dralz’s robe.
My gut felt wrenched in two. I turned and bolted across the repository and through the hole in the wall. I stumbled and almost fell, but managed to stagger away from the burning building, the books sti
ll clenched to my chest.
More adrenaline kicked in as I saw the village in an uproar. Buildings were burning, witches and other beings were crying and screaming. Bodies were lying everywhere.
I needed my arms free, needed to do something. I looked around and spotted one of the hags who hung around with Helden and shoved the books Dralz had saved into the hag’s arms. “Don’t let these books out of your sight,” I told her. “Dralz died to save them.”
“Yes,” she said, in the olde language.
My crow-brother circled overhead, making loud cries and telling me he was searching for whomever—whatever was attacking us.
Was it Nire?
Or the Erlking?
Or both.
I heard Jazz scream and whipped around just as she shouted, “Cease!”
Like when I’d tried it, nothing happened.
I rushed to her. Her face was streaked in tears. She was covered in soot and blood. My heart crashed against my chest.
“Together!” I told her as I grabbed her hand.
I thrust my sword to the sky and shouted, “Stop!” at the same time she raised her free hand and screamed, “Cease!”
Everything went still. .
The sudden silence was so deafening my ears rang from it. I clenched Jazz’s hand tighter as we looked at the devastation around us. Flames had frozen in their act of destruction. Smoke billowing from the buildings was frozen as well. Every witch, every being was motionless.
The urge to throw up was strong as I saw the bodies scattered around oldeTowne. Blood, burns, and smoke were on most of those who had been hurrying through the village, either trying to help or fleeing for their lives.
I took a deep breath and heard Jazz do the same. We released hands and looked at one another. Horror filled her golden eyes. “The Erlking,” she said in a trembling voice. “It had to have been him.”
I clenched my sword. “Or Nire.”
“Or Nire,” she whispered.
“We need to search to see if the Erlking is here.” I looked around the village, hoping to see some kind of sign. “Maybe our double spell caught him this time.”
L.O.S.T. Trilogy Box Set Page 60