by Bonnie Vanak
Dragon Man didn’t blink either as the crystal dagger sailed toward him…and then crashed into an invisible force field/shield around him. The blade spilled onto the floor, burning a hole in the tile.
Xavier gave a rueful glance at the melted tiles. “I just cleaned the floor. Thanks.”
Dragon Man looked almost sympathetic. “You can’t hurt me, and I can’t hurt you either. Rules of the game.”
“What game?” he nearly shouted.
“Drink the potion. You need it, or you’ll remain weak and grow weaker. Your power’s fading.”
Xavier looked at the goblet and shook his head. “It tastes like old socks and burns like a son of a bitch.”
“Yes.” Dragon Man nodded. “Felt the same when I drank it.”
“What is it?”
“Joy juice,” Dragon Man said dryly. “Drink, or you will lose your powers.”
Xavier touched the cup, wondering about that.
Dragon Man tilted his head, seeming to listen to something. “I have to leave. Call me if you need me.”
As the man vanished, Xavier shouted at the ceiling. “How the hell can I call you if I don’t know who you are?!”
He touched the cup again, his instincts prodding him to drink. Perhaps he would regain his memory.
Lifting the goblet to his mouth, he studied the potion then drank.
Fire burned down his throat. Gasping, he dropped the empty goblet. It clattered onto the tile.
Everything came back to him in a flood of recollection, so overwhelming he had to catch his breath. He felt dizzy and confused.
Not the memories of this year, or even the past, but centuries.
He was Xavier, the Crystal Wizard. The goddess Danu had punished him by stripping away his memories because he and the other wizards had broken the law by combining their powers to save Tristan, the Silver Wizard.
It was forbidden for them to share their magick.
He knew Ciara, knew her from before the time he had been anointed the Crystal Wizard. She was the reason he’d sacrificed himself all those centuries ago…out of pure love.
He had watched her die in a flaming car wreck during the fifties…an accident Andromeda had caused in her jealousy and greed.
Their souls had intertwined through the ages.
Xavier braced his hands on the counter again and then forced his eyes open. Normally after drinking the Bloodmoon flower potion, he rested to allow his powers to surge and his body to adjust to the infusion of pure, light magick.
No time to nap now. I’ve slept enough for a century. Xavier waved a hand, conjuring a mirror and grimacing as fresh agony throbbed in his temples.
Ciara had cut off his hair. She had stolen her ring she’d given him, the ring infused with his power. But now she had something much more powerful—a lock of his hair containing the crystals that pulsed with pure magick.
Xavier felt no anger, only alarm. Knowing the punishment she faced, knowing what he could do to her, she must have had been worried sick about her mother. He had no idea. He had been asleep mentally for many days.
“Show me Ciara,” he bade the mirror.
Instead, the mirror rippled, and another, more beautiful woman appeared.
Xavier staggered back. What the hell?
He leaned closer. Andromeda?
She was dead. He’d seen her die himself, his grief and guilt colliding as the goddess ordered Andromeda’s Lupine pack to tear her to pieces.
After giving Andromeda crystals to enhance her beauty, she’d used them to amplify her powers. She’d thought herself superior to the gentler creatures in the forest, the innocent Trolls, the shifters who only wanted to live in peace.
“I am more powerful and more beautiful than the goddess herself,” she’d shouted to him, spinning around and laughing.
Xavier’s eyes had been opened wide. He had cast a temporary binding spell over her, for even with his mighty magick, he had trouble containing her. Then he’d bade Danu to come to his aid.
He’d watched her die.
Yet she now lived.
Only one being had enough power to reincarnate her from the Dark Lands where her soul had been banished—the Dark Lord.
Waving a hand over the mirror, he saw images of Andromeda flip by like a slideshow.
Andromeda was a cruel witch who tortured animals and used them for her potions. He saw a woman who enjoyed demeaning others, whose sadistic tendencies only grew the longer she lived. She preyed on the weak for enjoyment, her vanity siphoning away power from Others to maintain her beauty and cast the illusion of youth.
Andromeda felt nothing but disgust for Nymphs like Ciara and had no empathy for anyone else.
She was a centuries-old psychopath.
Rage and remorse twined together. He had allowed this to happen by letting himself be blinded to the truth centuries ago, blinded by her beauty.
Inside, she was rotten.
He summoned another image. “Show me how Andromeda was resurrected.”
The mirror’s surface did not wobble. His heart raced. He had to find Ciara. Every instinct warned she was in terrible danger.
“Show me Ciara!” he roared.
Xavier directed all his powers at the mirror, but it went blank. Cursing, he realized even his magick could not lift the protective ward around Andromeda. Neocromancing used powerful magick, but it had never thwarted him before. Until now.
Either his past history with Andromeda prevented him from seeing who had infused her with power, or worse…
“The Dark Lord,” he muttered.
He went to call upon his fellow wizards and hesitated. They had invoked Danu’s rage by casting their powers together. He did not dare get them into more trouble.
You’re on your own for this.
Xavier ran into the living room and removed one of the thick books he’d used as a Mage, long before he’d become a wizard. He thumbed through it, read the recipe, and yanked open a drawer.
“Cloaking dust,” he muttered, pulling out a jar. He gathered other vials into a leather bag and slung it across one shoulder.
In a few minutes, the sparkling, gold dust was ready, capped in a small vial. Xavier went to the bed where he had lain with Ciara, sprinkled the dust upon it. It glittered then burned bright and rose into the air, forming a vortex. Xavier directed a small bolt of pure, white energy into the vortex.
Shimmering, it became a vision, showing him a stone mansion set upon a hill where no birds sang, no animals played. A place of terrible darkness…
Xavier snapped his fingers and stepped inside the vision. The golden vortex crumbled around him.
He was inside Andromeda’s home.
He did not see Andromeda but felt her presence stamped into the walls, the floors, the very air clogged with terrible darkness.
Exiting through the kitchen, he went outside to the back. A plot of earth had been cultivated as an herb garden, with tall, green plants. It was pretty and charming. In the middle were two scarecrows with gardening hats, straw bodies, jeans, and checked shirts.
An illusion, he knew.
Xavier set down the leather bag and removed a vial of red powder. After placing it on his palm, he blew on it. The dust removed the illusion cast by magick and revealed plants grown blackened and sickly, twisted with thorns. Black flames flickered on the ground inside the garden.
The two scarecrows were still there, but one was taller, elegant looking, her long, blond hair gathered into a bun, her green eyes frozen in horror.
The missing Carlina, Ciara’s mother. He had not the power to restore her. Only Cadeyrn, the eldest of the Brehon, could combat this type of evil magick.
He looked closer at the shorter, squat statue clad in an ugly, gray, homespun gown, her body green, her face and hands dotted with purple warts, her black hair stringy and thin.
An Ogre.
Use your heart, not your eyes, my wizard, a gentle female voice whispered to him.
Danu? The Goddess had spoken
. Xavier searched his heart and let his feelings for Ciara overcome his anger and fear.
He looked at the Ogre again.
“Oh no,” he breathed.
Racing into the garden, he unhooked Carlina from the post holding her upright. He felt her heart, felt it thump beneath the stone-like body. Then he waved a hand, sending Carlina to his townhouse guest bedroom to rest. Heavily warded against dark magick, the house was the safest place for her until Cadeyrn could restore her.
Ciara, Ciara.
Something glowed at her feet. He reached through the black flames and picked it up.
Draconite. Recognizing the sensation of his own power, he examined the gemstone. Ciara must have used his crystal to empower the gemstone to counter the dark magick.
He blew upon the stone, and runes glowed there. Throat closing, he read the inscription.
Ciara had used the last of her power to chant a protective spell to safeguard him. She didn’t do it to protect herself. Gently touching her face, he traced the tracks of her stone tears. “Oh, my little Ciara.”
The stone shimmered and then suddenly shriveled and turned black. Tendrils of black mist rose into the air, snaking around his ankles. He tugged, and it snapped. But another came and another. This time, it proved harder to free himself.
Xavier grabbed Ciara then hurried out of the garden as more thorny tentacles from the plants hissed and blocked his way. One tore through his jeans, scratching his bare skin and leaving a burning pain.
He ran until reaching the tree line. There the tentacles and thorns stopped. They could not breach this barrier of good, earth magick.
Gently, he laid Ciara down and examined his injured ankle. White blood, his blood, dripped from the wound.
Only one thing had the power to harm him…
The Dark Lord.
Andromeda had pledged her soul to him and manifested the Dark Lord’s terrible power.
Xavier waved a hand in the air. “Show me the true face behind the Dark Lord.”
A face shimmered in the air and became more discernible. Xavier’s heart pounded as his hands trembled.
No wonder he was powerless in this place where Andromeda had woven her neocromancing spells. No wonder he could not undo the spell cast on Carlina.
The Dark Lord was Duncan, Xavier’s former master. Words came back to haunt him from centuries ago.
“You cannot hurt me, Xavier. You pledged a bond of blood and bone to me, a pledge unto death and beyond the grave for us both. Even if you had the magick of the Crystal Wizard, you could never touch me. Your powers are useless!”
A pledge beyond the grave. Xavier fisted his hand, and the image vanished. He was powerless to vanquish Andromeda, for she had tied herself to the Dark Lord.
He glanced at Ciara and knew what he must do.
Xavier dematerialized, transporting them back to his townhouse living room. He laid her gently down, stroking her face.
Waving a hand, he sent tendrils of good, light magick toward her.
The tendrils bounced away, like hitting a brick wall.
Xavier tried again, sending more power against the binding spell. This time the magick sailed back at him, slamming into him and throwing him against the wall.
Gasping, he staggered upright. Combining his power with another member of the Brehon could save Ciara.
Such acts were forbidden. He had been punished once already for such a transgression. Never would he ask his fellow wizards to engage in another one.
His sweet, beautiful, little Ciara was dead to him. He clasped her hand, feeling her spirit fade. Numb with shock, he cradled her stone-like body. Soul crushing desperation tore at him. Only by pouring all his powers into her could he counter the neocromancing spell.
And then he knew what he must do, for the good of his people and all those who would suffer beneath Andromeda’s evil.
He could not do so without permission from the goddess.
It was if he saw himself from far, far away, his spirit detached and numb from the brutal reality of the woman he loved forever gone.
Xavier opened the leather bag and tried the various powders and potions. None worked.
He kissed Ciara’s green forehead. His heart had known her from the beginning, seeing her inner beauty, but his head had been blinded to Andromeda’s allure.
No longer.
“I will do anything. Please.” Xavier’s voice cracked. He wanted to fist his hands to hide their trembling, but it meant releasing Ciara.
Don’t let go. If you let go of her, her inner light will die.
Hot tears shimmered in his eyes. He closed his eyes to hide them, but it meant not gazing at Ciara, and every single second he looked at her while she was alive froze a precious memory in place. When he opened his eyes, the tears spilled to the floor, turning into diamonds.
After laying Ciara down gently, Xavier then knelt and called upon the goddess Danu.
A golden light filled the room, and when he opened his eyes, the goddess stood before him. Humbled and desperate, he did not look upon her.
“My lady, I beg your forgiveness for my past transgressions. Now I beg your permission. Release my powers to save her and render my magick into Ciara to undo this spell holding her and grant her life once more.”
“You ask a tremendous boon, my Crystal Wizard. I can feel your pain and your suffering.”
Shame crept over him. “I ask not only for my heart but the good of the Earthers I guard and deliver justice unto. I cannot defeat Andromeda, for she has bound herself to the Dark Lord, my former master on earth. While I was a mortal, I made a blood pledge to him that lasts beyond the grave. Ciara, with her pure heart, her powers of the earth, will have that ability to help defeat him if my powers are rendered onto her.”
Two warm hands settled upon his shaking shoulders.
“My dear Crystal Wizard, after Tristan surrendered all his powers to save Nikita, I vowed to never again risk losing one of my wizards. You cannot give Ciara all your magick and condemn yourself to the Shadow Lands as Tristan once did.”
Hope died inside him, but he remained silent. Danu always had a reason.
“But your heart has proven you true. I will allow you to render your powers and your immortality onto her if you drink this potion and become mortal once more.”
“Mortal,” he repeated. “I will be a Mage.”
“Yes.” She waved a hand, and a silver goblet appeared in her hand. It shimmered with light.
“Transfer your powers unto Ciara and drink this, lest you fall into shadow. Drink quickly, my wizard, for you are the youngest and will not last as long as Tristan did.”
He sniffed the goblet she’d handed him and gave her a wry look. “Why is it always something I must drink smells like Tristan’s old socks?”
The goddess laughed, a clear, bright, tinkling sound.
Then her smile dropped. “I will grant this boon because you ask for the good of your people and for the sake of a love that is true. You may render your powers unto Ciara.”
She removed a jeweled dagger from her belt and set it down. “This will pierce the binding spell placed upon Ciara and penetrate her heart.”
He felt warmth suffuse him as she kissed the top of his head. And then the glow in the room faded.
Xavier was alone with Ciara. He picked up the jeweled dagger Danu had left.
He looked skyward. “I, Xavier Montague, the Crystal Wizard, guardian and judge of all Earther OtherWorlders, do this of my own free will, as a wizard of the Brehon.”
He stabbed Ciara in the heart.
Xavier summoned all his powers, his aura pulsing in a silver-white glow. Blinding, white light filled the room.
He forced his powers into his right hand and then placed his palm over the bleeding wound in Ciara’s chest. A brilliant, luminescent, silvery-white glow encased her body. Her chest began to rise and fall once more, and the wound sealed shut.
Dropping his hand, he sat back on his haunches. His hands began to
fade as he seized the goblet and downed the potion the goddess had given him. A terrible pain raced through him and then stopped. His hands shaking, he glanced down.
Xavier picked up the dagger he had used to pierce Ciara’s chest and pricked his finger, wincing as he did so.
Bright red blood bloomed on his fingertip. He sank back on his haunches, trembling.
It was done, and he was a Mage once more. Powerless and mortal.
Ciara’s eyes fluttered open. Green. Like her skin. But he cared not. She was lovely and alive.
“Xavier?” She sat up, and he helped her. “You saved me.”
“With the goddess’s permission. You will never die now, for you have my powers,” he said softly, brushing the edge of one thumb against her trembling lips. “My Ciara. You will live forever.”
Wonder dawned in her green eyes. “I remember everything now, everything we shared in our past. You saved me from Duncan’s cruelties when I was a peasant, and we met again at the soda shop in the 1950s.”
His heart pounded with joy. “Yes.”
Xavier playfully tapped her nose. “You are the reason I like Elvis Presley music so much.”
She laughed, and then he kissed her, her mouth warm and pliant beneath his. Becoming a Mage and mortal once more was a price he’d gladly pay again for seeing her smile, feeling her mouth against his, and remembering all they had shared.
He helped her stand. She glanced down at herself, her expression horrified. “I’m still an Ogre!”
Ciara ran to the mirror. Xavier stood behind her. Ruefully he noted his hair was still thick, curly, and dark, but the crystals tipping each strand were gone.
“Like my new hairstyle?” he teased, aching at her distressed look as she touched a purple wart on her chin.
Tears shimmered in her huge, green eyes. “I’m so ugly. How can you stand me like this? I’m as ugly as my true form when we first met centuries ago.”
Xavier turned her around. Gently, he kissed her mouth, feeling it warm beneath his own. “You never were ugly, my darling Ciara. I harbored the ugliness inside me until meeting you and seeing what true beauty is.”
He kissed her thin mouth once more.