The Circle

by Cindy Cipriano

  A booming voice called out, “Hello Calum! So good to see you again. And you too, Hagen.”

  “Hello, Father.” Hagen waved to Father Christmas, who was surrounded by small Sidhe. Hagen led Calum up a flight of stairs. “You probably forgot where everything is, so I’m going to show you around.” He pointed to a room on the right side of a long hallway. “This is kinda like a playroom. But we learned our first talent here. We were three years old. Remember it?”

  Calum peered through the door’s window. It was an oversized sitting room with dozens of comfortable-looking chairs, blankets, and cushions. Thick carpets covered bamboo floors and a fireplace hovered in a corner, far out of the reach of curious toddlers. Calum breathed in a buttery, vanilla scent. “Accessi,” he whispered.

  “That’s right.” Hagen clapped him on the back. “I knew you’d remember.”

  “But how?” asked Calum.

  “The smell. Talents are linked to specific scents. It helps us remember how to do the magic. Or remember not to do it,” said Hagen. “Scents linked to dark magic smell horrible, like rotten eggs. It’s like a punishment for using dark magic.”

  “That kind of punishment doesn’t sound too bad,” said Calum. “I mean, it doesn’t really stop anyone from doing dark magic. Does it?”

  “Well it’s not like the Rule of Seven, that’s for sure.”

  “The what?” asked Calum.

  Hagen looked at him. “Kenzie never intended for you to come back here, did she?”

  Calum hadn’t considered that, but he supposed Hagen was right. If Kenzie had wanted Calum to return, surely she would have told him these things. “I guess not.”

  They walked further down the hall. “The Rule of Seven is…sort of like a time out, or being grounded,” he said. “It works like this: little kids get seven minutes, elementary kids seven hours, middle schoolers seven days, and high schoolers seven weeks.”

  “Seven weeks seems like a long time to be grounded,” said Calum.

  “Most of us learn fast,” said Hagen.

  “Most?”

  “Some never learn. And adult Sidhe have other punishments.”

  “Like?” prompted Calum.

  “Banishment. Adult Sidhe who use dark magic are banished for seven months. If they do something really bad, they can be banished for seven years, or even seven lifetimes. Which really means they’re out for good.”

  “So, what’s with all the sevens?” asked Calum.

  “Seven’s important in nature,” said Hagen. “There are Seven Seas, Seven Climes, and Seven Steps of Alchemy. Even a tabby cat has seven stripes going down the back of its head.” He led Calum up another flight of stairs.

  A woody smell permeated the air. Calum breathed deeply. “Baby pine.”

  “Yeah, it’s the Nature Room. We moved here when we were five. We learned how to find water, make our way through the woods, and identify animals, trees, and lots of other things about being in a forest in the Realm of Man. It’s the last room you were in before you stopped coming.”

  When they climbed to Level Three, they were greeted by a horrid stench. “Ugh, where are we now?” asked Calum.

  “The Reason Room. This room is for eight-year-olds…” said Hagen, “…the age of accountability. It’s where we learn about right and wrong—you know, dark magic.”

  “How do you stand it?” His eyes watered and he pinched his nose to stop the smell. Calum started up the next flight of stairs without waiting for Hagen’s lead.

  “It doesn’t smell bad to me. When you make the right choice, the scent changes to something really good, and it’s a scent that’s different for everyone. After that, you only smell the disgusting ones when you make the wrong choices when using your talents.” They had reached the top of the stairs. “This is Level Four, the last level. I moved here when I turned twelve. We’ll stay at this level until we turn fifteen. Our classes are in here.”

  “Classes? How many?” asked Calum.

  “Two. I’ve already been through the first one: the Intentions Room. It’s where we learn how to gather intentions of those around us.” He put his fingertips to his temples and pretended to meditate. “Supposed to protect us from dark magic,” he said in a scary voice.

  “Very funny,” said Calum. “You said there were two. What’s the other?”

  “The Astronomy Room.”

  Calum sniffed but could not make out a scent.

  “Yeah, I don’t smell it either. We don’t get this one until we complete the fourth level.”

  While Hagen was an average student in the Realm of Man, he was one of the top students in the Tusatha Public House. He was gifted at gathering intentions, and was also quite good at listening to the messages of trees.

  Calum, on the other hand, turned out to be a strong student in both realms. He was good at memorizing facts, images, and even the smallest details of conversations. This was a skill that came in handy when he began to study Sidhe history. He could recite the names of all of the clans and knew their obscure traditions. Kenzie, who never remembered a thing, believed this ability skipped a generation because her father never forgot anything, no matter how inconsequential.

  Their time at Sidhe School was brief, so their days were long. Calum squirmed in his wooden seat, trying to find a comfortable position as his school day ticked into the eighth hour. He looked around the classroom for a distraction from the seemingly never-ending lecture on astronomy. Telescopes lined the only wall that was free of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Celestial charts had been pulled down, covering the blackboard.

  “Psst,” said Hagen. “Do you want to go to the Kischef Bergele after class to see Rebeccah?”

  Calum nodded, eager to see her again. Besides, he could use a break from the hazing of his Sidhe classmates. When they realized Calum was a new student, they took pleasure in introducing themselves. Calum didn’t mind making new friends, but first contact between Sidhe children resulted in a mild electrical shock, similar to the shock Calum felt from static electricity. He soon found the anticipation of the shock was worse than the actual sting.

  “And what do you make of it, Hagen?” asked Twicely. Twicely Keane was Calum and Hagen’s astronomy teacher. Her family was known for a long history of twin births. Twicely earned her unusual name because she was the second child born in her family without a twin. She paced the front of the room, waiting for Hagen to answer.

  “What’s she talking about?” asked Hagen. But he didn’t actually say anything.

  Calum’s ears perked. I heard that.

  Good for you, thought Hagen. So what’s she talking about?

  “I’m talking about Pluto,” said Twicely, pointing to the small planet on one of the charts.

  “Oh, yeah,” said Hagen. “The duine daonna don’t get it because they can’t stop arguing about whether or not Pluto is a planet. They don’t understand it belongs to an entirely different universe. Our universe.”

  Calum stared at him, trying frantically to read more thoughts, but his mind hit a blank wall.

  “Relax Calum,” said Twicely. “That’s how it works. You’ll pick up random thoughts, and then sometimes go for days without hearing any. When you come back at the end of summer, you’ll learn about blocking thoughts. Or as we call it, shutting the door of your mind. Until then, and even after,” she said, looking from Calum to Hagen, “you both need to pay attention in class.”

  “Sorry Twicely,” said Calum.

  She smiled at him briefly before continuing her lecture on the planets that are shared by the Realm of Man and the Otherworld.

  Calum enjoyed his time in Tusatha, but he counted the minutes until the end of class, eager for his visit to Kischef Mound. School is still school in any realm. When they were finally released, Calum and Hagen walked to the polder just outside Tusatha. No longer having any negative reactions to traveling through thresholds, Calum walked deliberately and without hesitation through the polder to the Kischef Mound.

  Kischef was a c
enturies-old mound, and a favorite shopping place of all Sidhe clans. Sunlight bounced over copper-covered roof tops of the quaint houses below. Wisps of smoke rose from each circular shaped chimney, and wooden carts bursting with a variety of items for sale clogged both sides of the road. The streets were leathery paths, and on this day they were filled with people.

  Hagen turned off the main road onto Argentinische Allee. “It’s down there,” he said, pointing to a shop at the end of the road. “The Four Corners.”

  The shop was remarkably small considering the variety of crystals and gemstones sold there. Hundreds of bins of colorful crystals crowded wooden tables. These rocks and minerals were special, having been grown in the cave gardens of Avalon. The entire space smelled of spearmint tea, and Calum’s stomach growled when his eyes found a plate of chocolate covered croissants.

  “Mein freid, Calum,” said Rebeccah, wrapping her arms around him. “And Hagen. What a pleasant surprise.” She gave Hagen a quick hug hello. “This must be my lucky day. It’s good to see you both. You boys look hungry. The pastries are for eating. Help yourselves.

  Hagen already had. His pastry was nearly gone when he managed one word between mouthfuls. “Good.”

  Calum reached for a pastry and quickly took a bite. Dark chocolate flooded his mouth. “These are good.”

  A young woman entered the store and waited by the front counter.

  “Excuse me for one second,” said Rebeccah. “Coming.”

  “Let me show you some stuff,” said Hagen. He led Calum deeper into the shop, pointing out different stones and vials of faerie dust. “This one makes your enemy forget they are your enemy. The forgetfulness only lasts about ten minutes, but it’s long enough you could get away.” He set the vial down, and Calum picked up another.

  “Mom’s got this one at Siopa. It’s a calming dust,” said Calum.

  “Right,” said Hagen.

  Calum replaced the vial and allowed his hands to glide over cool velvety crystals in a nearby bin. These were the same crystals he had noticed during his Halloween visit to Tusatha.

  “Ulexite,” said Rebeccah, returning to the boys near the back of the store. “It helps with decision making. A bonus is its disinfecting properties. I think you should have this one.” She slipped a corded ulexite pendant over Calum’s head. “Here are the instructions for the stone’s care. So, how is school going?”

  “It’s hard, but fun,” said Calum. He could hardly believe he’d actually used the word “fun” to describe school. “School here is different to school in the Realm of Man.”

  “As are your classmates, I’d guess,” said Rebeccah. “Meet many friends here yet?”

  “A few,” said Calum. For some reason, he thought about Laurel. It was strange, but he actually missed her.

  “And who is Laurel?” asked Rebeccah.

  Calum sighed. Did everyone have to hear his thoughts?

  “She’s a friend of ours, mine and Hagen’s,” said Calum. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to meet her though, she’s duine daonna.”

  “No faerie blood, eh?” asked Rebeccah.

  “No. And she doesn’t know about us,” said Hagen.

  “Yet,” said Calum.

  Hagen raised one eyebrow and stared at Calum. “Ever.”

  “If you’re thinking of telling her, she must be special,” said Rebeccah. “And if she’s special, I must meet her. If you do tell her, bring her by sometime.”

  “I don’t think I can,” said Calum. “I mean, I don’t think my talents are strong enough to bring her through a threshold.”

  “I have just the thing,” said Rebeccah slyly. She opened the only drawer in a circular table and pulled out a silver ring. “We’ll call it years of missed birthday and Christmas gifts.”

  Calum slipped the ring on a finger on his right hand. It had an oval-shaped blue sapphire set horizontally inside a thin black line of jet.

  Rebeccah took Calum’s hand. “This is a travelon. It allows for one co-traveler between the worlds. Adstringo,” she murmured. “It will protect the duine daonna as if she were one of us.”

  “Cool. Thanks, Rebeccah,” said Calum.

  “As for you, Hagen,” said Rebeccah. “A seasoned traveler. I’ve got just the gift.” She led them to the front of the store and handed Hagen two stones. “Beryl and kyanite, two good journey stones. Carry the beryl for two days prior to your departure, but leave the beryl behind and take the kyanite on your journey.”

  “Thanks Rebeccah,” said Hagen. A bell tolled from the Kischef Public House. “It’s getting late, we’d better get back.”

  “I need to pay for the ulexite,” said Calum. “Mom only gave me one coin. I hope it’s enough.”

  Hagen laughed. “It’s plenty. I’ll show you.” He led Calum to the checkout counter, and took the small gold coin from Calum. “This is a Bart. We get one on our eighth birthday. The back has our clan’s mark and the front has our Barter.” He pointed to an image of an old man with a long beard and square shaped spectacles. “That’s Rebeccah’s Bart.” He put Calum’s coin on the counter next to hers. The images on the faces of both coins came to life and they began to haggle over the price of the items. “When they agree on a price, that amount of money moves from your account to Rebeccah’s.”

  The images shook hands and returned to still life on their coins.

  “Cool,” said Calum. He picked up the Bart and stared at it with a newfound appreciation.

  “Thanks, boys,” said Rebeccah. She wrapped Hagen’s touchstones in moss-green paper and tied the package with a brown cord. “And please, not so much time between visits, yes?”

  “No problem,” said Calum. His eyes roamed the store once more. He wondered if Kenzie would let him work at The Four Corners next summer, instead of Siopa Leabhar.

  “Let me know what she says,” said Rebeccah, waving goodbye.

  Wi

  Calum’s grandparents, Uilleam and Salena Lindsey, were due back at Tusatha on the last day of class. Calum ran all the way to their house after school that day. He smiled as the scent of vanilla pipe tobacco washed over him when he opened the door. His grandfather’s pipe.

  Calum found his grandparents in the kitchen. Neither of them had a trace of gray hair. Uilleam was tall and carried himself in a dignified manner, even in the most casual surroundings. Salena was petite, but strong. Her face lit up when Calum approached.

  “Uilleam, Salena, I’ve missed you,” said Calum, throwing himself into his grandfather’s waiting arms.

  “Good afternoon,” said Uilleam. “How was school?”

  Before Calum could answer, he was pulled away into a tighter embrace. “You’re growing too fast, and you feel thin. Are you eating enough?” asked Salena.

  “Uh, Uilleam,” said Calum, struggling to catch a breath. “If you’re not busy, could I talk to you outside?”

  Salena drew back and smiled at Calum. “Asking advice about girls?” She pinched his cheek.

  “Leave the boy be,” said Uilleam. “Good heavens, he’s not a baby anymore.”

  Salena released Calum. “Don’t be long, supper’s almost ready.”

  Uilleam sighed. “We’ll be back in a few minutes.” He led Calum outside and down the path to the garden. A golden light shimmered and danced between several wooden posts in the ground. “Sprites,” he said. “They can’t resist post racing. It amazes me duine daonna don’t notice sprites running through their highway guard rails.”

  Calum looked closer and saw two small sprites racing between the evenly spaced posts.

  “Uilleam, I was wondering, do you know anything more about Finley?” Calum looked up into his grandfather’s face. Will I ever be that tall?

  Uilleam sighed and smiled softly at Calum. “I have no news, but Connor and I haven’t stopped looking. Finley has to be somewhere. We will find him.”

  They sat on a wooden bench in front of a small pond. Calum threw stones into the water and watched the ripples roll across the surface. “I wa
s wondering, is there any way Finley could be an Addition?”

  “That’s very unlikely. Even when it was common practice for Sidhe to add duine daonna to their clans, it was never acceptable for faeries to kidnap other faeries. It did happen once though. They caught the faerie responsible and applied the Rule of Seven. He was banished to the Void for seven lifetimes.”

  Calum had heard of the Void. A place caught between the Otherworld and the Realm of Man. It was a place of nothingness, loneliness, and despair. Calum shuddered, thinking about what it must be like, forced to live there. “When did that happen?” he asked.

  “That Addition occurred before your mother was born, and no one else has dared to try it again. If that’s what happened to Finley, the punishment will be none the less.” Uilleam put an arm around his grandson’s shoulders. “Child, please stop blaming yourself for what happened to Finley. You don’t need forgiveness. You need acceptance. Guilt and worry are twin brothers to regret, and all three are terrible wasters of time.”

  “It’s just that Kenzie never says anything about him.”

  “I think it’s easier for her not to talk about it. Your mother has a bit of trouble separating guilt from acceptance, too. But if you want to talk, you can always call for me and I will be right there.”

  A memory of Kenzie’s face appeared in Calum’s head. He could hear her frantic screams for Finley as she searched the house, the yard, everywhere for him. A pain of longing shot through Calum. He was ready to go home.

  Chapter Nine

  Night School

  Calum returned to Emerald Lake on the last day of Christmas break. He stayed up late with Kenzie and Gus, sharing every detail of his time at Sidhe school. He had worried about how Kenzie would react to his visit to Rebeccah’s shop and the ring she had given him, but it didn’t seem to bother her at all. In fact, she seemed happy about the ring because of the, “added protection when you travel.”