Hidden Magic: An Ancient Magic Novel

by Stephany Wallace

  “That chest and shoulders, those dimples… and that accent.”

  Deadly combination. Thank goodness he wasn’t real or I would have been drooling and blabbering like an idiot in front of him. Not that I had done so well as it was. Then a thought crossed my mind. I wondered if there was an actor in the Merlin show that looked like him. Had I used his image to unconsciously create Cyn in my mind? Well, one thing I knew for sure. If someone like him actually existed, I was officially becoming his number one stalker.

  I mean seriously.

  I opened the browser window and googled “Merlin’s cast,” I clicked on the images and searched through the lists of actors and special appearances, but I had no luck. There was no one like Cyn there. I sighed. Even his name was sexy. I looked at the clock once more and I almost squealed. It was 12:55pm. I opened the drawer and took my makeup pouch from my purse. Opening the compact mirror, I gave myself a quick glance. My lip-gloss was perfect, my hair was nicely done and it fell in waves over my shoulders. I had my signature mini braids mixed within the strands of my hair. The ends were held by silver engraved little beads, which went beautifully with my mint green floral blazer, white blouse and my gray trousers. I was pleased. Cyn might be imaginary but I still needed to look presentable. I stood up and looked around me to make sure no one noticed. I made my way to the copy room. I went inside and turned quickly to close the door. A light reflected on the artwork hanging from the wall and I smiled. When I turned around emerald eyes greeted me.

  “Hello my Goddess.”

  CHAPTER 6. CRAZY

  BRIANA

  “Hi,” Is all I managed to say, while I admired his face in the light of day. He looked so freaking gorgeous. His layered blond hair was tousled like he had finger combed it. His eyes had a twinkle and he had this presence about him. He seemed to glow. His outfit was similar to the one from Saturday. A linen shirt, brown wool pants and leather boots. It made him look old worldly and delicious. What I remembered had nothing on him. The Cyn standing before me put dark-lit-peeping-tom-Cyn to shame.

  “I hope you have not waited long for me. I would have gladly come earlier but I was not certain you would be pleased by it,” he said breaking the silence.

  I giggled then frowned. I wasn’t exactly the kind of girl that giggled, but when he spoke to me that way and with that beautiful singing accent… “You are so fine, I mean, you are fine, it’s fine,” I sighed. “You are right on time, and yes you could have totally come earlier. I’d be ok with that.”

  His smile widened and his right dimple winked at me.

  Flirty little dimple, it should be ashamed of itself.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off of it and for a second, I wondered how it tasted. When my eyes lifted Cyn had stepped closer. It caused my skin to tingle all over.

  “Did you say something?” I asked clearing my throat.

  “I only wished to know if you desired for us to spend our time in this room of copies, or if you would like me to take you somewhere else?” He said and offered his hand to me.

  I stared at it wishing he was real and I could actually touch him. I sighed and met his eyes. “If you were real, where would you take me?”

  His presumably tasty dimple, winked at me again when he answered.

  “Anywhere you wish, my Goddess. I would not hesitate to show you the world.”

  Crapola, that was freaking perfect!

  I so wish he were real. Had I made him up from one of the books I read? This was going to drive me crazy. I briefly tried to remember if he resembled any of my book boyfriends. But I doubted Echo or Malcolm would ever say something like that. The line bordered cheesy, but I happened to love it. I needed a little cheesy in my life. My gaze dropped to his extended hand and I sighed again.

  That’s it! I’m going to have a serious talk with my subconscious. This is just mean.

  “Come on,” I said ignoring his hand and nodded towards the door. “Let’s go have lunch, I’m starving.”

  He dropped his hand and looked at the door concerned.

  “What? You are in my mind, I’m the only one that can see you.” I reminded him and saw him frown.

  He nodded slowly like he was coming to a conclusion for some great mystery.

  “Indeed, you are the only one that can see me.”

  I didn’t understand his confusion so I shrugged it off, turned and opened the door. I stepped outside and heard him whisper something. It seemed like another language. Then he fell in step with me.

  *

  CYNWRIG

  What was I doing?

  For the first time in my life I did not wish to think. I did not want a strategy, nor did I desire to consider the consequences. There was absolutely no logic to this, no purpose. Nevertheless, this woman seemed to have some sort of hold on me. Her essence pulled me to her for reasons I could not fathom. Being here went against everything I believed in. It went against every rule I had shaped and enforced onto myself, and my people for survival. Yet I could not resist it. No matter what my logical mind whispered to me, I needed to be here… with her.

  I was still searching for the reason of why she could see me. When she discovered me in her house I was stunned. Rendered frozen while she threw everything she could find at me. I could not comprehend how she had seen me. Once I stepped through the portal and found her sleeping, something had taken over me. She was a Goddess at rest. The image of her was mesmerizing and I could not tear myself away. Her mere presence was soothing to me, and in that moment I needed that feeling. I needed her.

  I walked by her side. I had expected to be more anxious or uncomfortable in this strange place. I had traveled to the city by mere accident in the past two weeks. Yet by her side, the bizarre world around me just seemed to fade into the background. The structures and strange transports, held no interest to me. I stared at her profile. Her beautifully long red strands glimmered in the sun and her eyes tinkled with enthusiasm as she spoke to me. She had placed what she called a “hands free” on her ear when she stepped outside her “office,” as she called it. She explained she did not wish for people to think she was talking to herself. I had called on my invisibility once more before leaving the room of copies. I was not entirely sure as to how she could see me when I had used a spell. Nevertheless, she was spot-on about one thing. No one else could perceive me. And I could see nothing else but her. She was completely and unquestionably endearing. She believed with such conviction that I was a figment of her imagination, that it almost made me question whether or not I was real.

  I wish she would touch me. Then she would realize I was in fact real and not a conception of her mind.

  I lifted my hand hoping I could feel the softness of her skin under my fingertips. I wanted to touch her. My essence was begging me to connect with her. The responses she provoked in me where unlike anything I had ever felt before. But I also feared her reaction once she realized I was in fact here. A breathing, tangible being, and not a concoction of her imagination.

  I was not entirely certain of what I was doing, but whatever it was, it meant being by her side and that could not possibly be wrong. Feeling like this could never be wrong.

  We stopped after crossing the street from her building. We had arrived at a small plaza on the other side. There were trees and flowers around us, guarded by small circular fences to protect them. She sat on one of the benches and I sat beside her. People walked past us. Some walked with their dogs, others sat on different places reading or feeding the birds. My gaze returned to her. She pulled a paper bag from her leather bag and placed it between us on the seat. What looked like a carafe with water followed. I had hardly spoken since we left her, office. She was still speaking even as she pulled a covered bowl from her paper bag, but I did not mind it. I was fascinated by everything she did, anything she had to say. I could never get tired of listening to her.

  “Then we finally moved here. I was glad this is where my Grandpa decided to settle. I love this place.”

  She
took a bite of her food. I smiled watching her. “At what age did you arrive in this city?”

  “Well technically I was nine years old, but we moved here a month before I turned ten. So ten. That’s when Grandpa gave me my first book love. Merlin.”

  She stopped and looked at me as though pondering something. “I think that’s where you come from. But I’m not sure yet. I keep trying to think of where my mind could have taken the ideas to come up with you, but I don’t know.”

  I chuckled. “I am originally from Ireland. I was born in an island called Glandore.”

  She cocked her head slightly to the right, and seemed to think about it.

  “No, I don’t think so. I’ve never read about that place before. Don’t worry though, I’ll figure it out and keep you posted.”

  I laughed and she smiled wide taking another bite of her salad.

  Absolutely endearing. I looked at her assessing her. It would not matter much what I told her since she would not believe me.

  “I am a Druid. A Laoch.” I added in my native language.

  “A Lack?” She asked trying to pronounce it and I chuckled shaking my head.

  “Laoch,” I repeated slowly. “It means Warrior.”

  “Laoch,” she said gently managing to pronounce it correctly. Her lips puckered as she stretched the “o”. I could not help but allow my eyes to settle on them. A strange feeling built within me. I swallowed and nodded.

  She smiled wide. “What language is that?

  “Gaelic.”

  “Can you teach me something else?” She asked excited.

  “Biadh,” I said. She pronounced it perfectly. “That means food.”

  She chuckled and drank some water. “Next.”

  I pointed at her carafe, “Uisge, it means water.”

  “Craobhan,” I said pointing to the trees as her eyes followed.

  “Flùraichean. Which means Flowers.”

  She smiled and turned. A couple of children ran past us playing with a dog.

  “Nighean bheag, little girl. Balach beag, little boy. Pheataichean, pet.”

  She giggled and repeated the words then took another sip. A drop slipped from the carafe’s mouth, sliding over her lower lip. I wished I could touch her. I looked into her eyes. “Bòidheach.”

  “Bòidheach,” she whispered in return. “What does it mean?”

  “Beautiful.”

  I smiled and watched her cheeks blush and acquire a gorgeous rose hue. She looked away from me and covered her now empty bowl, placed it back in the bag and inside her purse. She drank more water then looked at me once more. Her cheeks were still rose.

  “I have fifteen more minutes before I have to go back in. Would you like to walk around the park for a bit?” She asked hopeful.

  I nodded pleased by her invitation.

  “Well, you are kind of part of my imagination so it’s not like you actually have a choice.”

  I laughed, “You are absolutely correct, my Goddess. I have no choice.”

  She chuckled and we stood, beginning our walk around the park. The scenery was beautiful yet my eyes remained on her. She talked a bit more about her childhood and how protective her grandfather was. The man I had seen with her at the beach, I presumed. She explained her habits and her “OCD” tendencies. How they kept her sane. She loved organizing things and cleaning. I chuckled remembering her special arrangement of pebbles at the beach.

  “I think we should go back. My lunch time is almost over,” she stopped near the entrance of the park.

  I nodded and offered my hand to her for assistance. She smiled but did not take it. Disappointed, I turned and we began our path back to her office. We stepped inside the room of copies and I looked at her feeling the longing inside me. I was not prepared to leave her yet.

  “May I see you tonight?”

  She raised her brows questionably. “Will you teach me more words in Gaelic?”

  I grinned. “I shall teach you anything your heart desires.”

  She giggled. Her cheeks became deep rose once more. “Then it’s a deal.”

  From Art’s rambling’s I was almost certain that meant yes. As if possible, my smile grew wider. I winked at her.

  “Then I will see you tonight, my Goddess.”

  “Bri,” she reminded me then turned around leaving the room.

  I took a last look her way and threw the stones on the floor, jumping into the portal to my waterfall.

  I pulled my shirt and trousers off and dove into the water. The coolness only added to the intoxicating effect she had left on me. For the first time in centuries, I felt alive. I broke the surface and took a deep breath going under once more until I reached the rocks where the cascading water fell. I pulled myself up and sat on my rock, allowing the water to fall over my body. I looked at the trees surrounding me. I was not aware of what had caused it or what the meaning behind it was. But the whole place felt different. The colors were brighter, the trees seemed taller, the water sparkled while the filtered rays of the sun touched it, reflecting in a way it never had before. The place seemed magical.

  A sense of awareness seized my attention. The familiar energy making its presence known. I looked over at the rocks on the edge of the waterfall and I saw her. She was laying on the rock in all her magnificence. The luminous eyes of the jaguar stared right into my soul. I closed my eyes thankful for her guidance and drank the peace she provided me with. I dove back into the water as my Goddess’ smile danced in front of my eyes.

  Once I entered my hut I changed into fresh clothes and went to check on Eisha. I needed a way to pass the time until the night arrived and I could return to my Goddess.

  Eisha opened the door wearing a soft blue dress. It was similar to the one my brother had given her the other day but this one was sleeveless and it hung to her knees. She had a bright smile on her face.

  “I see Art has given you another gift.”

  She nodded excited, letting her hands caress the soft material of her skirt.

  “Do you like it?” She asked excited.

  I pondered about her question for a moment. “I think it looks beautiful on you. Do you plan on changing the way you dress to these modern garments Art has brought you?”

  She looked at me briefly then turned. She was evading my gaze.

  “It think it does no harm to try something different, Cyn. I like the dresses and wearing them does not mean I stop being myself. Change is something we should embrace from time to time.”

  I considered her words while she poured juice into two cups then walked towards me handing me one. I nodded silent, took it, and sat at the table. She sat before me. We had this talk many times before. It never ended well.

  “I do not wish to quarrel about this, a chara. There is nothing wrong with the way we live. We have done it for over two millennia. Our parents lived this way. We grew up like this. There is no need for change,” I said lowering my gaze to my hands. I held the cup tighter. Eisha’s hands rested on mine.

  “I do not wish to quarrel with you either Cyn. You know I love you, you are a chara, my brother,” she placed her hand on my cheek, forcing me to gaze upon her face.

  “I know that you want things to stay the same as it was when he was with us. I know you need that because it is easier for you that way. It is something you can control. I understand that Cyn. I do. When my mother died I spent a full month wearing the same tunic I had the day she passed. I did not understand yet how she would live again after her soul was renewed. I wore the same dress thinking it would aid her to find me once she returned. That it would give her comfort to see that I had waited for her, and everything remained the same as when she left.” Her eyes glistened with tears. I tightened my hold on her hand.

  “Mo meantóir is not dead, Eisha,” I said softly.

  She nodded, “He is not, but have you considered that perhaps, wherever he is things have changed for him. That he has adapted?”

  I lowered my gaze once more and closed my eyes.


  “I know your pain Cyn. If it is anything similar to what I felt when my mother passed, then I know your pain. But we need to keep on living, and if change is best for our people we owe it to them to give them the best chance at life they can have. I’m not saying we should move into the urban world and mingle with the mortals. Nevertheless, if these modern customs that Art desires and admires in such a way can give our people a better way of life, then we need to at least attempt it.”

  I took a deep breath trying to see things from her perspective. I knew there was truth in her words yet I could not bring myself to accept it.

  “Alright, enough chatter for today. Let me make you something to eat. If I know you at all, you have not eaten anything today. You must be starving.” She got up and kissed my cheek affectionately. Then walked into the kitchen and began taking vegetables out of the food basket. Fish accompanied the selection. She began to prep. I remained silent.

  “Oh hell no. I’m going to get jealous. Why is it you make me cook when I’m here, yet you jump at the first chance to cook for my brother?” Art bellowed entering the hut. I chuckled while Eisha turned, and waved her knife at him.

  “That is because he does not expect me to do it for him. And he never complains about my food. Now sit your behind on that chair and shut your mouth, or you will not receive a portion.”

  Art chuckled winking at me and sat beside me.

  “You see how she treats me brother. I bring her gifts and give her beautiful dresses and what do I get? Threatened, that’s what I get,” he looked at me faking indignation. “You’ve always been her favorite.”

  Eisha laughed loudly. “You have not officially been threatened by me, unless my axes are an inch from your neck, a chara,” she answered with a brilliant smile. We chuckled.

  “I stand corrected,” Art added and drank my juice.