It did amuse me that Bren became slightly green and shaky each time he saw Rol in the company of a hag, especially at night, in the candlelight.
The Witch Circle practiced magic together under the tutelage of my mother and the hochkonigin, until we found all twelve of the great stone zodiac gates located across time. We worked with local witch stone masons to create two more, so that we had access to each of the places and times the Path once connected.
Then the hard work began.
We started in L.O.S.T., training each witch and sentient being to create a minor Witch Circle so they could transport through time and space to one of the major circles any time they needed safety or protection. As soon as a witch demonstrated competence, that witch was added to the ranks of trainers, and so it spread, friend to friend, stranger to stranger, family to family until finally, finally, the people had what they needed—a way to save themselves with magic that could never be polluted, corrupted, or turned to evil at the will of some mad, twisted being. Trained witches were free to return home to their own times, or remain in L.O.S.T., if they chose.
As Midsummer approached, L.O.S.T. thrived in a way I had never seen. No one battled or fought beyond normal arguments and minor disputes. I had relatively few matters to resolve or mediate. New construction started in oldeTowne and the modern section—community centers, houses, gyms, barns—the town seemed to get larger overnight. Even the restaurant on the hill got a makeover with fresh paint and new windows.
Bren and I watched these developments with relief and appreciation, but we soon realized it was time to get started in the other times and places connected by the great stone gates. We were standing in the forge the day we discussed it, with Bren cooling a sword he had just finished.
“I think it might work in my left hand,” he explained, pouring water slowly over the unique grip he had created. “See, here, where I made it to press into the places where my fingers are missing?”
I gazed at his handiwork and grinned. This was his third try at what he called “an adaptive sword.” It might work, too. If not this attempt, then the next, or the next. I had no doubt that one day, Bren would once again be a left-handed fighter.
Though I wasn’t sure that would do his half-god ego any favors.
Warm breezes stirred the hair from my shoulders, adding to the delicious, productive heat of the forge. I savored the quiet, relaxing moment, but knew we had to get back to business all too soon. “Bren, after you finish, we should decide what day we’re leaving to start training at the other great circles.”
He sighed and poured water down the length of the sword again. It sizzled, as if to express Bren’s opinion of going on the road again. “Okay,” he responded after finishing another pass on the sword. “But do me a favor. Let me take a shower, and meet me in the glen. There’s something I want to talk about before we leave.”
I kissed him on the cheek and left him to his work. On impulse, I went back to my mother’s house and took a shower, too. As I got dressed in a comfortable white skirt and tunic, I thought about the fact I needed my own home, and soon. Mother and Bren’s father needed their privacy, but I didn’t see the point in commissioning my own space until Bren and I finished all the training and developing we needed to do with the Witch Circle.
A matter for later, then.
I sighed as I looped the straps of my wraparound sandals.
A matter for later, amongst many other matters for later, as soon as I found the time.
The walk to the glen was peaceful and pleasant, and blissfully problem-free-at least until I got there. Near the slither caves, I found the path blocked by Rol, Aaron, Helden, Biton, and one of the hochkonigin. I recognized her as Elz, sister of Dralz, who died in our fight with the Erlking. They all looked nervous.
I tried to smile.
Helden read my expression and spoke up immediately. “We have no quarrels. Only an idea, Your Majesty. Well, a few ideas.”
Relief almost made me sit down on the ground, but I resisted the urge.
Rol cleared his throat. “As you know, each of the great circles will need a guardian. A knowledgeable and powerful witch available to continue training as needed, answer questions, and make certain that the circles are well kept and not misused by criminals escaping justice, and the like.”
“Yes.” I felt like a weight had settled on my shoulders. “After Bren and I complete training for the witches in different times and places, we’ll convene a council to determine how to accomplish that necessity.”
“I’ll do it,” said Biton. Bren’s youngest brother, the little boy from ancient Greece, stepped forward. “I’ll guard one of the circles.” His lower lip trembled. “I want to go home.”
For a moment, I didn’t understand. “You want to guard a circle?”
“We will take the boy home,” Elz said as her hag-spirit turned itself into a belt. “Rol and I, with your blessing of course. We will take with us any foundling who wishes to live in an earlier time.”
Rol put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. With his free hand, he took Elz’s arm. “I will travel through time to drill Todd and Sherise until I am satisfied of their competence as training masters—but in my free hours, I will guard the gate. I will teach Biton the task until he comes of age, or transfers his stone to a witch of similar skill and power.”
“The stones can be transferred?” I touched the opal on the chain around my neck, surprised.
“Yes,” Helden said. “Rol and the hochkonigin have been reading night and day about the stones and witch circles—and practicing. Me, too. We know the lore and spells, the magic, and we can come back every morning for Circle work, if you feel it’s necessary, or if you’d like us to demonstrate the truth of our claims.”
“I believe you,” I said, then blinked at her. “We? Do you wish to go to ancient Greece as well?”
“No,” Aaron answered softly. “Helden said she would be my guardian back in the 1965 Sanctuary. We’re rebuilding it, you know.”
His tone added the rest of what he felt.
I want to go home, too.
“The other Circle children have chosen guardians as well,” Elz said. “They wish to return to their times and places, and Sherise and Todd have expressed a wish to see to the Arthurian gate at the Tor, because Todd feels his magical creatures will thrive closer to the era of their actual existence. Some of my sisters are willing to serve as their guardians and chaperones, if Todd’s parent agrees.”
“If you and Bren protect the L.O.S.T. gate, that leaves nine gates,” Biton said, holding up nine little fingers.
“The hags have candidates for those positions.” Helden smiled. “Perhaps one day, Your Majesty, or His Majesty Brenden, or Todd or Sherise might choose to transfer your stones of power, and the hags believe we will find more as well.”
Elz nodded. “We have only the sun signs. The moon signs remain undiscovered.”
I held up my hands. “Wait, wait. I need to think. I need to talk to Bren.”
But already, their words had unfolded in my mind. I could see each time, each place with its own little family of guardians, training witches and seeing to the sanctity of the great gates. We would meet daily or weekly, or perhaps in time, even monthly, to train and share information, or just enjoy each other’s company. Bren and I would be free to manage higher-level issues, travel between Sanctuaries as needed, and…and…
And have lives of our own?
Helden gave me another warm smile as she collected Aaron and headed back toward L.O.S.T., and Rol nodded in deference. He picked up Biton, and Elz bowed to me as they went by.
I drifted into the glen, completely absorbed in thought.
Someone coughed.
I looked up.
Bren was standing by the bluer-than-blue pond, dressed in a black tunic and breeches. He looked fresh, clean—and I swear his clothes had been pressed, or at least magically de-wrinkled. He had pulled back his shoulder-length hair with a leather tie, and he had sha
ved.
Goodness.
To what did l owe such extra attention to grooming?
As I came to a halt in front of him, he winked. Then he held out a single red rose in one hand, and in the other hand, he held out a soft-looking gold and silver cord. It shimmered in the sunlight, as if spelled.
“I’d like to talk about hand-fasting,” he said in a quiet, almost shy voice. “I mean, I’d like to do it at Midsummer, and I’d like you to move into the forge with me until we can build a nicer place of our own.”
I stared at the cord in his hand, at the rose, then into his entrancing brown eyes.
“We’re young, I know,” Bren said nervously, shifting foot to foot. “But I think we’ve come full circle since you kidnapped me—what, a year ago? A year that’s lasted a lifetime. And hand-fasting—you know, we renew it every year, until we decide to make it permanent. If we decide to make it permanent. We don’t have to—”
I leaned forward and covered his mouth with my hand. “Hush. Sssshhhh.”
When I pulled my fingers away, he was smiling, but I could see an adorable amount of worry etched in every line of his handsome face.
“Yes,” I said to erase those lines. “Midsummer would be perfect.”
Epilogue
At Midsummer’s Eve, Bren and I stood before the citizens of L.O.S.T., at a table in front of the wreath-covered maypole. Around us, the flower gardens of the foundling home stretched in all directions, wrapping around groups of witches who were no longer divided by rancor and discord. We had been blessed with a bright and watchful full moon. The night air was light and warm and dry, and everyone in the Sanctuary seemed pleasantly exhausted by the day of dancing, feasting, and games.
My mother and Bren’s father had taken up positions behind us, along with Todd, Aaron, Biton, Sherise, Helden, Elz, and the rest of the Witch Circle and their guardians. Harpies hovered in the air, lending their fertile stench to the flower-laden breezes. In the distance, slithers sounded off in Todd’s zoo. He only had half of the beasts moved to King Arthur’s time, but the harpies planned to help him with the rest across the next week. A few of the hochkonigin had decided to go with him, too, and because of their supervision, Bren’s father had finally agreed for Todd to continue his zoo and his advanced sword training in that time period, so long as he spent weekends back in L.O.S.T. with us.
“Things are different in the world of witches,” Bren’s father had admitted. “Kids have to grow up a lot faster—at least powerful witches, like Bren and Todd and you, Jasmina.”
He called me Jasmina, like my mother. It didn’t bother me. It also didn’t bother me that my mother and Bren’s father planned to get married soon. They deserved their own happiness, after all.
Rol, dressed in the flowing white robes of a traditional celebrant, moved up to the table and looked at Bren. “Are you ready, Your Majesty?”
Bren nodded.
“And you, Queen Jasmina?”
I nodded, too.
Rol’s white teeth had quite a shine in the moonlight. He gestured to the table, which held two horns of water from L.O.S.T.’s main well, a large pouch of leaves, a double-spouted stone chalice of mead, a cake, a small axe, and the gold and silver cord Bren had presented me in the glen.
“First,” Rol intoned, “drink from the well, from life itself.”
My heart fluttered as Bren and I each took a horn of water and drank it dry.
Flutes started to play in the crowd, and bagpipes, and even violins and guitars, then instruments I didn’t even recognize. The music of different cultures blended softly into a lilting, medieval-sounding song, and I realized witches must have been rehearsing this for days, conspiring in secret to give us this gift of sound and unity.
“Handfasting for a year and a day,” Rol said, magically projecting his deep bass over the flower-covered grounds. “A day, a year, a lifetime. Three circles without beginning, three circles without end.”
Bren faced me and I smiled at him. The warmth of his heart seemed to flow into mine.
“Past, present, and future join in King Brenden and Queen Jasmina,” Rol announced. “Each moment holds the presence of the last and the promise of those yet to come.”
Bren and I raised our right hands and clasped them together. Bren squeezed it tight and butterflies flittered in my belly. Rol picked up the cord. As he wrapped the soft, glittering rope around our hands, he said, “Like a cord, ever strong and binding. Like a root, ever deeper and longer. By this knot, I join you of your own free will, for a year and a day. May your moments be bright and never ending.”
Rol finished, picked up the pouch of leaves, and passed it to my mother, who was crying. She took out a fistful, as did Bren’s father. My eyes went back to Bren’s as the Circle each grabbed handfuls of birch, yew, hawthorn, and oak, hazel, poplar, and elder. I knew there were pine needles in the pouch, and brambles and holly. Probably rose, ash, alder, and willow, too, along with blackthorn, reeds, and ivy. Each tree and plant had its own strength to lend. Each strength, we would need to grow and flourish.
As our friends and family called the elements from the four directions and began to shout their wishes to us one and all, Bren covered our corded hands with his free hand and said, “I promise to think of you every day, and do my best to make you smile. I promise to take care of you and myself—and to try to knock off the half-god jokes, at least for a little while. I promise to try, no matter what, to see your side in all conflicts, and to treat you as the queen of my heart.”
He lifted our corded hands, and kissed mine gently, then lowered them again.
I placed my free hand on top and said, “I promise to see you for who you are, to love you for who you are, and to celebrate who you are—half-god jokes and all. I promise not to change you into anything without talking to you first, without giving you a chance to tell me your thoughts and feelings. I promise to take care of myself and you, and to treat you as the king of my heart.”
I lifted our corded hands and kissed his. We both took a deep breath, whispered, “A year and a day,” then shared a kiss while the crowd hooted and cheered.
When we turned to face everyone, our friends and family showered us with leaves. They tickled my ears and cheeks, and stuck in our hair until we both started laughing. Rol came forward and helped us share a drink of mead from the two-spouted chalice. We managed not to cough or choke, and the honeyed drink felt soothing as it slid down my throat and set my belly on fire.
We had done it.
Bren and I had really done it—carved out time, and space, and emotion, and found ourselves together in L.O.S.T. A year and day—what might we become in that wonderful time? How close might we be, after so many days of peace and joy?
Rol lifted our hands and shouted, “By this knot!”
“By this knot!” the crowd roared.
More leaves and flowers fluttered down, spelled and sent by witches in the crowd.
Bonfires sprang up. The music got a lot louder. Everyone started slapping us on the back and giving us well-wishes.
Then the real partying began.
And went on, and on, and on a little longer, until children fell asleep by fires and in parents’ arms, and older witches dozed over pipes and flagons of mead, and musicians had to spell their lips and fingers to avoid blisters and sprains. The Midsummer revel in L.O.S.T. lasted until sunrise, until Bren and I stumbled through the temple to the zodiac stones, to see off all the guardians of the gates.
Todd and Sherise went first after giving us a lot of ribbing and hugs. They’d be back in a few days, for Circle practice and to keep moving the zoo. Helden and Aaron, both dressed in tie-dye shirts and jeans went next, wearing their flowery wreaths on their heads. They held the zodiac circles around their necks to activate the magic—only Helden and Aaron had fashioned theirs out of love beads instead of carved granite like Todd and Sherise.
Rol and Elz came next with Biton, wearing their circles of alabaster. “It’s a pleasure to serve, Yo
ur Majesties,” Rol said as he led Elz and Biton forward.
I gave them all kisses, and Bren shook their hands. I could tell the king of my heart soooo wanted to be ill when Rol pulled Elz against him as they crossed into the zodiac circle.
Just before the magic took them, Elz lowered her hood and showed her real face to Bren.
For just a moment, Bren saw the truth of that hag—a sinewy blond with bright blue eyes, lightly tanned skin, and curves that would slay even the most jaded worldly playboy.
Bren went stiff with shock beside me. “What the heck?”
I started to laugh.
Rol gave Bren a jaunty wink, pulled Elz closer, and vanished with her and Biton back to their new pavilion in ancient Greece.
Bren sputtered and muttered, then wheeled on me, his eyes wild with surprise. “Did you see her? She looked like a swimsuit model! Jazz, that hag—”
He trailed off. Understanding dawned slowly on Bren’s handsome face. “All along you’ve known what those hags really look like, and you’ve let me get grossed out thinking about Rol kissing one of them.”
I was laughing so hard I could barely stand, much less answer. Bren pulled me to him and messed up my hair, then pressed his forehead against mine. “You witch,” he whispered, then laughed with me as I readily agreed.
The End
***
About the Authors
R.S. Collins grew up on a ranch in rural southeastern Arizona, close to the border of Mexico. Now she’s a full-time writer who has penned many novels under another pseudonym and lives in metropolitan Phoenix, a long way from out in the country where she was raised. She majored in journalism at the University of Arizona and ended up in a couple of different careers before being fortunate enough to write for a living. R.S. started writing as a kid and often turned school writing projects that were supposed to be mere paragraphs into novellas. She always dreamed of magic and distant places, things that were different and unique. Her imagination took her on flights of fantasy, travels to other worlds. Reading was something R.S. did constantly. She would get lost in the worlds that authors created and it was something that she wanted to do someday, too. Following the release of the L.O.S.T. trilogy, R.S.’s Sign of the Crescent will be published in April, 2014.
L.O.S.T. Trilogy Box Set Page 67