Awen Rising

by O J Barré

  Waving goodbye, Emily walked to the house. It wasn’t exactly an answer, but it was something. At least she didn’t have to feel guilty if she kissed the pirate-priest.

  Back on the porch, she pounced on her Da. “Why can’t we tell Morgan about you? She’s pretty broken up. It would help if you could tell her about Mitchell yourself.”

  “Sweetheart, the fewer who know I’m alive, the better. I’d prefer to stay dead for a while longer, if you don’t mind.” Emily winced.

  Lugh changed the subject. “I hate to tell you, but I have more bad news. I had a lead on the Callaich in Wales who was rumored to be proficient in ogham—”

  Hope hissed, “Not now, Lughnasadh.”

  “Is she a no-go?” Emily asked, disappointed.

  “Emily. Hush.” Hope cocked her head at Hamilton.

  Lugh sighed and threw his hands in the air. “What’s he gonna do, Hope? He’s a dog for godssakes.” Cu whined and thumped his tail. “Besides, Cu already knows this stuff.” Lugh turned to Emily.

  “I was told the Callaich lives off-grid with no phone or internet. And that’s assuming she’s still alive. My source didn’t have a name, so finding her will likely prove impossible.”

  “I have friends in Wales,” Hamilton offered. “With a little help from one of you, I could ask if they’ve heard of this Callaich. What else do you know about her?”

  “Only that she lived in the most rugged part of Wales. On the northern coast near Snowdon Mountain. And she’s old, nineties or more.”

  “Any family?” Emily asked.

  Lugh shrugged.

  Hope roused. “The dragons’ dwelling place is on the Isle of Beli. In Dinas Affaraon as it was known then, or Emrys, the City of Higher Powers. It, too, is in Northern Wales. Somewhere in the highest mountains of Snowdonia.”

  Emily buzzed with excitement. “So, you’re saying that both this Callaich and the dragon-keep are in Northern Wales? Why don’t we go there? We can look for the dragons and the old crone.”

  But Lugh balked. “No way! It’s too dangerous and we need our grand druid here.”

  “I can finish my training on the road,” Emily pled. She’d been grounded forever and sorely missed the travel.

  But Lugh was adamant and refused to agree to a trip to Wales. Instead he declared he was needed at Jocko’s and rushed out the door leaving Cu behind, like a man pursued by demons. They stared after him.

  Hamilton cleared Cu’s throat. “Well. I guess that’s that. At least for now. I’ll work on Lugh again tonight. From what I’ve gleaned, someone needs to find that Callaich, assuming she’s still alive. And the dragons. Although, it sounds like the dragons may save us the trouble by finding Emily first.”

  With that, he went outside with Hope and Ralph, leaving Emily alone with her thoughts.

  The Calm Before

  S halane listened absently as her husband raved about a fast-food restaurant. Cecil and the boys had dropped Patty at the airport on their way to preview the fabulous Fox Theater, their weekend venue

  “You’ll get a kick out of the Varsity, Shay-Shay. It’s the world’s largest drive-in, complete with car hops on roller skates and dogs walking—their slang for hotdogs to go.”

  “Uh huh,” she replied, not really listening. If things went right, she would be seeing Ebby tomorrow, and that was all she could think about.

  “Hey honey, sounds like you’re in the middle of something. I’ll catch up with you later,” Cecil offered.

  “Uh-huh. I am. See ya later.” Shalane ended the call and heaved a sigh of relief. She had a rare afternoon to herself. The Emory appointments were cancelled and Patty was on her way to California for a week or two.

  Shalane had booked a half-day at the Villa Rica Spa for a deep-tissue massage, far-infrared sauna, mani/pedi combo, and a Brazilian wax job. Afterward, the stylist would trim Shalane’s hair so that she looked her best for Ebby.

  The only thing left was to cancel that Elemental. The last thing they needed was bad weather cancelling Shalane’s performances. She exited the parked bus and faced east toward Atlanta. The snow that had hindered their trip yesterday, had all but melted.

  Shalane drew a deep breath, raised her arms overhead, and commanded Ebby’s Elemental to appear. Nothing happened. Sucking in air, she connected with Archangel Michael and tried again. But where darkness should be, there was only light—swirling, sparkling, effervescent light.

  Confounded, Shalane dropped her arms. She looked around to make sure no one was watching, turned a circle three times, and walked its perimeter three times. Standing in the middle, she raised her arms, focused her will, and commanded the Elemental to appear.

  Still nothing. Temper pecked at Shalane’s nerves. She dusted her hands and turned to climb the stairs into the bus, but was suddenly overcome by a strong urge to be anywhere but there. She stood quietly hoping it would pass. When it didn’t, she accessed the internet on her wrist unit. Querying hotels, Shalane found a charming inn a few blocks from the spa. The anxiety grew as she packed her overnight bag.

  Shalane nabbed her vape pen and took a couple of hits, but the anxiety grew. Her hand trembled. She took another hit. The windows rattled and the bus shivered.

  She cracked the door to peek out. The wind had kicked up, whipping trees and slamming little eddies of current against the aluminum shell. Had she miscalculated her target? Her cell phone jangled and she leapt to answer.

  Mitchell Wainwright launched into a rant about Ebby, aka Emily Hester, then gave Shalane what he’d refused to give her before: Ebby’s address.

  She hung up, crowing, “Woohoo! Gotcha!”

  If she hurried, she had enough time to get to Druid Hills and back. Shalane grabbed her purse and jacket. If finding Ebby took too long, she could meet Cecil and the crew for rehearsal at the Fox Theater. She scooped up her packed overnight bag, in case.

  As she pulled from the parking lot, the wind swirled angrily around the rental car. Black clouds gathered and dumped sheets of rain, partially obscuring the road.

  Awen Brownouts

  S halane’s rental car crept along the tree-lined street. The navigation screen showed her in the correct location and insisted Shalane had reached her destination. Puzzled, she searched in vain for the address Mitchell Wainwright had given her.

  There was no house, only a thickly-wooded lot that appeared to belong to the mansion next door. She made a U-turn at the intersection to make another pass. Should she drive down the gravel alley? Her danger-meter was saying no.

  The GPS advised, “Your destination is on the left. Twenty-one-twenty-one Wren’s Way.”

  “No, it’s not,” Shalane moaned.

  A petite figure emerged from the woods at a slow jog. Shalane’s heart thumped and she inhaled sharply. It was Ebby Panera. Gold-tinged scarlet curls escaped the hood that framed her oval face and a half-smile twitched on lips that moved. Was she talking to herself? Or was there a Bluetooth hidden in that mop of hair?

  Shalane’s hand went to the horn, but she didn’t blow it. Ebby was halfway down the block and running fast. Shalane stayed back to avoid detection, debating whether to confront Ebby now, or hang around until she came home. She’d prefer having her say in private, not on the street where anyone and everyone could see or hear. But she couldn’t resist following.

  Turning right at the intersection, Shalane kept a block between them. Not that Ebby would suspect it was Shalane, but she didn’t want to spook her. At a main intersection, the light turned red and Ebby sped away. Shalane gripped the steering wheel and tapped her free foot against the floorboard. The crosswalk signal counted down. The hoodie disappeared around the corner.

  **

  Emily loped along the avenue, daydreaming about Lugh MacBrayer. Unable and unwilling to censor her thoughts, she replayed the tryst they almost shared in the library. Lugh had been a bit cold since then, but tomorrow was their trip to Zoo Atlanta. Their first date. Assuming he still wanted to go. The way he had run out of the car
riage house, she wasn’t so sure. She’d find out during her combat lesson this evening.

  Sprinting across Moreland Avenue, Emily slowed to jog through Oak Grove Park. She didn’t have time to do the whole loop today, but the first of the Olmsted gardens stretched two miles through Deepdene Park and ended at Fernbank Forest.

  **

  When the light changed, Shalane punched the gas pedal. She searched frantically and caught a glimpse of the navy hoodie and copper hair. Ebby had crossed the street and was entering a clump of woods in the median.

  “Damn, damn, DAMN!” Shalane shouted, pounding the steering wheel.

  **

  She had barely entered the snow-dotted woods when Emily came upon a family bathing in a swollen Peachtree Creek. She threw up a hand and gratitude rushed through her at having escaped a similar fate. Unashamed, the group waved back. Compared to these folks, Emily had it good. Hell, compared to her own plight six weeks ago, she had it good. And now, thanks to Hope’s book assignment, Shalane Carpenter and her Elementals were a thing of the past. As was Mitchell Wainwright.

  Emily attacked the next hill and an unwelcome sensation crept upon her. For a moment, she was Awen, running barefoot through the forest near her hut, pursued by something large and unknown. Fighting panic, Emily focused on her breathing. The glimpses of Awen’s memories were becoming more frequent.

  She likened them to the drinking blackouts to which she was prone. Only these she remembered—if in a vague and spacy sort of way—like someone else had done the deed using her body. It had happened a couple of times during magic lessons. “She” performed complex spells with confidence and flair. But afterward, the details were fuzzy, and Emily had a sneaking suspicion that when called upon to do the incantation again, she wouldn’t know how.

  These, plus the incident with the blizzard, had led Emily to conclude that Awen had indeed awakened inside her. And was acting through her. As crazy as it sounded, and as uncomfortable as it made Emily feel, nothing else made sense. Still, she hadn’t mentioned the incidents to anyone—not even Da, or Lugh, or Brian MacBrayer.

  She thought wistfully of the teen who had improved so much over the last several weeks. The Elders had insisted on transferring him to the after-school sessions at the Acolyte Academy. At the same time, they had advanced Emily to more difficult spells. But without Brian’s natural abilities and competitive spirit egging her on, Emily found it harder to concentrate. Or care.

  **

  The light changed and the car leapt forward. Shalane followed the busy road that skirted the woods, hoping to catch Ebby on the other side. But the forest kept going. And going.

  Eventually, the trees gave way to a green lawn strewn with patches of melting snow. Benches and a small playground were mostly deserted.

  Shalane pulled the car into an empty space and hoped Ebby hadn’t doubled back. She eyed the lean-to’s lining the edge of the forest.

  Teens threw a Frisbee back and forth, but no Ebby. Shalane glanced at the clock on the dash. She needed to get back. But not without talking to Ebby first. She was too close.

  When Ebby emerged from the woods, hood thrown back and arms and legs pumping, Shalane sat at attention, heart racing.

  “There you are, my pretty,” she smirked, rubbing her hands together in anticipation. She opened the door, leapt out of the car, and scooted across the street, oblivious to the blare of car horns and squealing brakes. She kept her gaze on Ebby circling the perimeter of the clearing.

  “Ebby Panera!” she yelled at the petite figure as it reentered the woods on the other side of the island. “Goddamn it all to fucking hell!”

  Running back to the car, Shalane turned left at the next light and drove back to the place Emily had first entered the woods. When there was nowhere to park, Shalane pulled into a long, uphill driveway and parked near the street. Tossing her “Minister” placard on the dash, she hurried to the entrance. Ebby would have to come this way to get home.

  **

  Emily crossed the merry stream on a plank footbridge painted to blend with the scenery. To her right, a mature snowy egret perched atop a vacant bench eyeing a bronze statue of a leaping fish. An owl hooted in a nearby oak, then took flight and sailed down the trail in front of Emily before disappearing into the forest.

  “Callaich Oiche,” she spoke the owl’s name aloud, relishing the foreign feel on her tongue. Callaich also meant hag, crone, or wise woman. Which brought her thoughts back to Lugh MacBrayer.

  Why was the priest being evasive? And why had the suggestion of going to Wales freaked him out? Was it because he didn’t want to go with Emily?

  Her stomach churned and she decided not to think about that. Instead, she pondered the Einstein quote she had encountered yet again in the book on Elementals. How could imagination be more important than knowledge?

  She rounded the curve to the last straight-away and saw someone sitting on a bench beside the path. She lifted her hand to wave. The person stood and blocked her path. A woman with blond, flyaway hair. Her stalker, Shalane Carpenter.

  Heart racing, Emily skidded to a stop. “What the hell?”

  Shalane smiled and took a step toward her. Emily considered knocking her down and running home. She held her ground instead. It was time to put an end to her running days. It was time to stand and fight. She clenched her fists and Shalane laughed.

  “What? Gonna beat me up, Ebby?”

  “My name is Emily. What do you want? Why are you here?”

  “I have a show in Atlanta. Remember, Ebby? I reserved front-row seats for you.”

  “HA! Like I’d go. What do you want, Shalane? Why are you stalking me?”

  “Stalking you?” Shalane crooned. “Why, Ebby dear, I’m shocked. Most people enjoy being pursued.” Then her tone turned nasty, “Of course, you’re not most people, are you, Ebby? Oh, no. You’re an heiress now.”

  Emily’s body trembled, though from fright or anger she wasn’t sure. She was a little of both.

  “What do you want?” she asked, this time with force. The anger was winning. She took a menacing step toward Shalane. “Get out of my way or I’ll move you myself.”

  Shalane flicked her wrist and a vine wrapped around Emily’s feet. She bent to unwind it and Shalane came down on her back with an elbow. Grunting, Emily reached up to grab a handful of thin hair and yanked hard. Shalane shrieked and clawed at her, scratching Emily’s cheek and drawing blood. Emily searched her memory for a spell that would disable Shalane without injuring her, but her mind was blank. They stood, facing one another, Emily breathing heavily and Shalane with a smirk Emily was itching to slap off her face.

  “You’re mine,” the shaman growled, rubbing her head.

  “Like hell,” Emily retorted. “Just what do you want from me, Shalane?”

  “You don’t know?” Shalane laughed. “I saw it in a vision. You and me. We have been together since before coming to Earth. We are meant to be. I’m madly in love with you, Ebby Panera—Emily Hester—whatever your name. I want you to be mine. Mine until the end of time, as you have been since the beginning. That’s what I want. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  Emily stared at Shalane, horrified. “You can’t be serious?”

  “As a heart attack. Shall I give you one to prove my point?” Shalane raised her hand as if to perform another spell.

  Frightened for her life, Emily whipped her Taser out, jammed it against Shalane’s throat, and pulled the trigger. The shaman convulsed and dropped to the ground shaking, then laid still, eyes closed. Emily nudged her with a sneaker. Shalane didn’t move. Or wake up. For an unsettling moment Emily thought she might be dead. But that only happened in rare circumstances. And the gun was set to stun, not injure. She bent to check Shalane’s pulse.

  The woods disappeared. Emily saw in her mind’s eye an amorphous blob, flashing lights, then a monster. Her first impression was of Voldemort, the dark wizard from the Harry Potter series. Only its face was scaled, like a snake or lizard, and his eyes
glowed an evil red.

  Shocked, Emily let go of Shalane’s arm and the vision disappeared. But a suspicion came to her; was the snake creature part of the underground threat about which the Elders had warned? The source of the Armageddon warnings?

  Trembling, Emily warily touched Shalane’s wrist again. This time nothing happened. Her pulse was strong, but racing. Emily looked around, surprised there’d been no passersby to interrupt the confrontation.

  But now what? She couldn’t leave Shalane on the trail, passed out and alone. The shaman might be a mean, controlling bitch but if something happened, Emily would feel responsible. She thought of calling nine-one-one and heading home, but there was still that alone-on-the-trail thing. She thought about calling Lugh, but there was that avoiding-her thing. Plus, the damsel-in-distress thing.

  An incident came to Emily’s mind. She was at Shalane’s home office and Shalane was giving her the lowdown on light versus dark magic. The doorbell had interrupted, and Shalane left the room. There’d been a heated scuffle and Emily had run to the living room to find a man sprawled on his back in the foyer. Shalane stood over him, mouthing a spell. The man had jumped up with no memory of why he was there.

  Emily racked her brain for the exact word Shalane had used. Obliviate? No. Obscuro? No. Obfuscate? Yes! That was it.

  Would it work on Shalane? If not, the witch would likely call the police. And given her ability to manipulate people, especially men, Emily would be painted the bad guy. And likely get locked up. She shuddered at the thought of prison.

  Trey had told her the Taser wasn’t traceable when he’d given it to her. But she couldn’t leave Shalane alone on the trail. The shaman stirred. It was now or never. Emily closed her eyes and took a deep breath, anchored into the earth and connected with the other elements. She felt that funny feeling and Awen emerged. Only this time, Emily was there beside her.

  Focusing her attention, Emily said clearly, “Obfuscate Ebby Panera.”

  The shaman groaned and rolled over to her stomach. Emily backed away quietly and hid behind a large boulder a few yards from Shalane. Peering around it, she watched the shaman slowly stand, brush off her thighs and derriere, and look around vaguely.