by Candace Sams
"That's the nature of black magic. It lures you in and destroys your sanity. It creates monsters out of those who were once normal people. But did you suspect this all along?" Hugh asked.
"Yes. And so did you, if I'm reading you correctly. I suppose neither of us spoke of it because we didn't want to admit one of them got away or that more could be out there."
"Aye. I wanted to let the dead stay buried. There was so much bloodshed all those years ago." Hugh sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Should we tell Blain and Afton?"
"Blain's feelings are still very precarious. Although this will only muddy the waters for him, I'll tell him tomorrow. I promised I'd keep nothing from him. I must keep my word. You may tell Afton in your own way."
"I understand, my love. And I think I can see Arthur's and Syndra's position much better now."
Shayla nodded. "We'll never know exactly what they found out. And there are still some things I don't understand. I have a feeling this isn't over, that our confrontation upstairs was just the beginning."
"Aye. But what if Blain won't come with us now?"
"He must, Hugh. He must come with us or he'll surely die."
Eight
"Blain. Afton. It's morning."
Shayla placed a hand on Afton's shoulder and gently shook her awake. Afton didn't want to move. Her head was pillowed against Blain's chest, and Shayla sensed she felt safe and warm there. But today was the Summer Solstice, or Coamhain. Preparations had to be made for this evening's celebration. A bon fire needed to be built, but the breakfast feast came first.
Afton lay there, feeling a little homesick. She'd never been away from her family during such an event. And the entire Order would be missing the Sorceress.
"Ah, good, lass. You're awake. How are you feeling?" Shayla sat on the opposite side of the bed from Blain. She gently stroked Afton's hair away from her face.
"I'm fine, Shayla. What happened? Hannah.
"She's gone," Shayla interrupted. "Now if you're feeling up to it, I need some help to prepare for tonight's celebration."
"Wait just a damn minute!" Blain sat up and blinked as the morning light blurred his vision. "Last night you fought some kind of lightning-throwing woman you say was Hannah Biddies. Now you're ready to have some celebration over it?"
"No, Blain. That's not what's happening," Afton told him. "It's the Summer Solstice. It's the time of year when the sun is at it's greatest force. It's a very special time for us."
"Yes, we celebrate the chasing away of evil and a time of plenty. It just so happens that this year, the celebration coincides with what happened last night." Shayla patted his hand reassuringly.
"And what did happen, Shayla? What happened to Mrs. Biddies? If that was her." Blain waited for an answer. When he saw Afton look toward Shayla and the older woman's responding glance, he knew exactly what had happened to her.
Blain stood, walked to the open window and hung his head. "She's dead, isn't she? You actually took someone's life."
"She'd have destroyed you, Blain. If she had her way, she'd have murdered any member of the Order who stood against her," Shayla explained. "The woman knew about us and came here to fight. If she had to take a number of lives in the process, she wouldn't have hesitated."
"This can't be happening. It can't be, " Blain whispered He gazed out the window and saw a sunny day, just like any other. But a death had taken place in his home.
"Afton, if you're well enough to get up, leave us alone for a time. Hugh is downstairs and has some tea brewed. It'll help you feel much better."
Afton did as she was asked, but she hesitated at the door and glanced back at Blain, wanting to go to him. If Shayla wasn't careful, he could be on the brink of renouncing his heritage. If that happened, he'd be forever separated from the Order or worse. She quietly walked away, praying to all of creation that Shayla could make him understand.
"Come and sit," Shayla said as she patted the bed beside her.
Blain turned to face her and was about to refuse, but her expression exuded kindness and patience. The woman didn't look like a killer. But neither did his uncle. He seated himself beside her, and she looped her arm through his.
"No one in the Order is allowed—or predisposed, for that matter—to hurt other living souls without good cause, Blain. But we must protect ourselves. Compared to outsiders, there are so very few of us left, and so few parcels of suitable land on which we can survive. We hide and lurk. We creep about and play at being shadows. Such is our life."
She paused for a moment then continued, "Once we numbered in the thousands and walked the earth among men. We held our heads up proudly and dwelled among kings. Now, we would be hunted into extinction. Can you imagine what humankind would do to us—and themselves—to gain our powers? Our existence depends upon what each member of the Order does on a daily basis. We scheme and devise ways around the outsiders' laws in order to exist and protect the land. We use magic to forge documents and to travel. There are only a few places on earth where our children can play in the sunshine. Even in those rare spots, they're always guarded and can never move about freely. If they survive to adulthood, they might be allowed to travel, but only as necessity dictates. Our young learn the games of survival, not the games of simple childhood. Everything they're taught is in an effort to help them stay alive and remain undetected. Someday soon, changes will have to be made or we won't exist at all."
"The woman last night...she would have killed Afton, wouldn't she?" Blain asked, his voice breaking.
"Yes. Afton got in her way. I didn't want to tell you this, but there may be more out there like Hannah Biddies. And I must also tell you that she was once one of Freyja's minions. Her sister, if I recall. I only recognized her when she changed form. Her real name isn't important. She's dead now. But if she escaped the Order when I took over, others might have done the same. And those others might do what this woman did to you. They're very good at hiding their real identities. Do you understand?"
Blain slowly clenched his hands. He understood. Perfectly. They might come after him again. "What could I possibly have that they want?"
"I'm not sure, Blain. It could be they wanted to kill you simply to get even with me, or to follow Freyja's bent interpretations of the laws. I'm not certain."
"All of this is getting harder and harder to accept. At first, it was new and fantastic. Now, it's become a fight for survival. I don't know what to do."
"I can't promise you things will be easy if you pledge yourself to the Order, but I can tell you that you'll never find more peaceful or loving creatures. Like all societies, there are a few among us who are bad apples, as they say. But for the most part, we live happily because we love and help one another. It's the only way we've survived. We protect each other."
"And that woman last night was in the minority?"
"Yes. We don't allow evil to enter our presence. We shun it and turn away if we're allowed to do so. Last night, it had to be confronted. While our magic is only used to serve, it may also be used to protect. But it is never abused. Those who do so threaten us all by drawing attention to our existence. If any of the Order misuses their powers to hurt anyone without just cause, they suffer what we refer to as the judgment."
"Death?" Blain asked.
"Sometimes, but that penalty has rarely been used. We live simply and love in abundance. There's little need for judgment or punishment of any kind."
Blain hung his head. He couldn't deny what he was, but the conditions of accepting his heritage scared the hell out of him. His own parents might have been killed if they hadn't run away from the Order. But things had to have changed or he'd be dead already. And he couldn't deny the fact that someone had been trying to harm him. Since Shayla's arrival, the harm had stopped. Until last night.
He stood up and glanced around. The walls closed in on him, and he felt more alone than at any other time in his life. How could he forget what he'd turned into in the woods? When the transformation had taken pla
ce, he hadn't felt evil or malicious. All he'd felt was wonder, curiosity and awe.
But for the laws which drove his parents away, wouldn't he have been born a part of this Order? Wouldn't he have been one of those who now lived each day to survive? Wasn't that what he'd do from now until the day he died? Especially now that he knew what and who he truly was? "Am I allowed a choice in what I do from here on out?"
"Because you were born never knowing about the Order, you won't be forced to accept it now. But if you don't, you'll never see any of us again. And if anyone should find out about us because of you..."
"You'd kill me?" he asked as he turned to her.
Shayla saw the tears in his eyes. "That's one law that even I can't reinterpret, Blain. I must protect all those who depend upon me," she whispered. "Please don't force me to make that choice. I love you as I would have loved my own son."
He dropped his head back as tears streamed down his face. "I want to believe in all of this. I can't deny what I turned into in the woods, but it's so damned hard."
Shayla went to him and pulled him to her. Like a lost child, he lowered his head against her shoulder and wept.
Someone had died in his room, and he was being asked to accept the circumstances which caused the death. Somewhere in the world, a magical order of creatures existed from day to day on no more than the trust they placed in one another. He could deny their existence and lose his uncle, the only living relative he had, or accept the situation and allow magic into his life. It was the same terrible magic that had caused a death, and the same wonderful enchantment that had allowed him to physically alter himself into a creature of legend.
"Think and rest, Blain. Tonight is the Summer Solstice. Coamhain. In our tradition, it's a time to celebrate. We shall light a bonfire this evening and celebrate the goodness and wonder of life. We'll put aside the horror and evil. The bad things have passed away for a time and have left only the good. Until tonight, stay here and rest. We'll see to the chores." She hugged him once more and walked out of the room.
Blain stood and remained motionless for a very long time. He had a choice to make and no matter what he did, nothing would remotely be the same again.
***
"It's time," Hugh announced. "May I begin?"
Shayla nodded.
Afton watched Hugh walk forward and stretch out his hands. Using powers she could never hope to imitate, he caused fire to leap from the bottom of the stacked wood.
When the blaze was burning well, Hugh joined her and pulled the hood of his long white robe up over his head. She did the same. And as the flames grew even higher, Blain didn't appear. Afton thought her heart would break as surely as if it were made of brittle glass. If Blain hadn't shown himself by now, he'd probably decided to have no part of the Order or its ceremonies. That meant they would leave for Europe and none of them would ever see him again.
Afton clasped one of Hugh's hands tightly in both of hers. How horrible it must be for the older man to have searched so long for his brother and sister-in-law only to find them dead. Then to find a wonderful nephew he never knew existed and lose him as well. But Hugh kept his face toward the flames so she couldn't see his expression. His feelings were being masked from her. Perhaps it was his way of hiding how awful the moment was for him.
"Join hands," Shayla ordered in a voice that shook.
"Wait, Shayla. Please, wait a few more minutes," Afton begged.
"There's no use prolonging this. It seems Blain has made his choice," Shayla sadly responded.
Afton stepped in front of Hugh so she could see his face. There was terrible sorrow in his downcast expression and tears glittered in his eyes. She had already delayed the ceremony as long as possible by walking slowly to the pasture where the bonfire was situated. She moved forward to hug Hugh and tried to convey some hope to him when she felt none herself. He responded in kind, then quickly released her from his embrace. Afton saw him take Shayla's hand in his. With the joining of their hands, she knew Shayla would utter the ancient words as the sun set. And Blain's final decision would become forever recorded.
"Is it too late to join you?" Blain called out. He saw Shayla turn to look into the inky depths of the woods. He hadn't meant his entrance to be so dramatic, but after everything the woman had put him through, it was rather gratifying to see the startled look on her face. He slowly walked forward and watched Shayla's eyes widen in surprise. It had seemed appropriate to make his appearance in fairy form. Their response to him would tell him a lot about what would happen with this mythical Order and how they would react to him.
"By all that's holy! Blain, you're magnificent," Shayla gasped, "and I didn't sense your presence.
Blain stepped nearer to the fire. It was the first time Afton had seen him in well-lit surroundings, and her expression reflected pure astonishment. He'd made the transformation in the woods. It had come much easier than expected and with none of the pain he'd suffered before. In this form, he felt almost invincible. It was as if even the laws of gravity changed for him. His movements were light and quick, like those of a predator. He could see in the coming darkness with ease. His senses were sharp enough to tell him that no human, other than the three people before him, was within miles of the pasture. It wouldn't do to start this new life by revealing his alter ego to some hapless farmer who'd then be destroyed because of his carelessness. Changing at will was something he'd have to be very careful about in the future.
Some instinct told him that Shayla had masked the bonfire's presence, and no one would ever know they'd been in this pasture burning anything at all. Unlike the Druids, he couldn't stand the feeling of clothing upon flesh that seemed much too sensitive. A piece of leather from the barn was tied loosely about his waist.
Shayla moved closer to him and placed a hand upon his cheek. "You have the look of your mother. She was a Highland fairy. Depending upon the weather, they move about a great deal between England and Scotland. She spent most of her time teaching the children at our ancestral grounds in England. She'd be so very proud of you."
Afton could see that, possibly for the first time in her life, Shayla was hard-pressed to find words. So the Sorceress did what most people do when they were flummoxed—she began babbling.
"Come, Blain," Afton said as she reached for his hand and took him closer to the fire. "It isn't too late to join us."
The gaze he turned on her was elemental. Since the colored part of his eyes were star-shaped instead of round, it gave him an even more ethereal look than most fairies already possessed. His skin was green, but a lighter shade than usual. As before, his ears were pointed and his hair had grown much longer than its normal collar length. The light from the fire cast eerie shadows upon his features which would have frightened anyone who didn't know him.
"What do you think, Hugh?" Afton asked.
"By stars! He's remarkable. Simply remarkable," Hugh choked out.
"Well, that makes it unanimous. I'm odd even by your standards, whatever those are," Blain quipped. Then he changed his tone of voice to reflect his feelings. His inflection was more serious and primitive. "After I changed forms, I saw my reflection in tonight. I fully accept what I have to do. Whatever happens from now on, I place my future in your hands, Shayla. I can't live with one foot in this world and one in yours. This is what I am. This is who I'll stay. Teach me. Show me what I need to know. If your Order can accept a half-breed, then take me to them."
Shayla took his hands in hers as tears of joy coursed down her cheeks. "The pledge has been made. It will be honored. So mote it be." After she spoke, the wind rose and the fire burned a deep orange.
Afton watched Blain's face as he stood beside her. His starry-eyed gaze never faltered, and his solemn expression endured throughout the evening. She'd never known anyone with more courage. She did know she was falling deeply in love with him. This was the warrior of her dreams. Though she believed he'd never reciprocate her feelings, she still wanted him so much it actually hurt. If Bl
ain could draw forth the courage to face the challenges ahead of him, then so would she. One way or another, she'd find a way to make him see her as something more than just a friend. And she'd find a way to be worthy of him and obtain the strength it would take to be warrior class. In unison, they all turned together and stepped forward, joining hands as Shayla spoke the ancient words to celebrate, to thoir taing—give thanks to the Gods for their plentiful bounty.
***
"Everything here will be fine, lad. Shayla is sending some of our most trusted people to look out for the animals and the crops. After they've arrived and settled, I'll join you in England. It should only take a week, maybe less," Hugh promised.
Blain nodded. "I'm not really worried. When Shayla assured me everything here would be well taken care of, I believed her. It's what's waiting for me on the other side of the ocean that I'm more concerned about. But I've made my decision. I'll see it through."
"You make it sound like you're going on a death march. I think you'll have quite a few surprises waiting for you. You may even enjoy it if you'll let yourself," Hugh said as he clapped Blain on the back. "We don't bite, lad."
"We'll see," Blain remarked as he picked up his bag.
He walked toward the door to join Afton and Shayla. They had their belongings in the car and were ready for the drive to the airport. Using fake passports and I.D.'s didn't seem to faze them a bit. It scared the hell out of him. But everything had been carefully arranged to make his leaving look like a planned vacation, though no one would know where he'd actually gone. He paused and turned back toward Hugh one last time.
"Anything I should know? Any words of wisdom you care to pass along?" he asked, noting the trepidation in his own voice.
"Aye." Hugh turned to the bar, poured a large measure of whiskey into a glass and handed it to him. "Drink this and try to relax, lad. At this rate, you'll be giving yourself an ulcer."
Blain took the whiskey and a deep breath. "Here's to fairytales, magic and the fools who believe in them." He tossed back the entire contents of the glass, hugged his uncle and walked out.