Circles of Seven

by Bryan Davis

  Morgan blew softly on the taller figure, and its edges slowly dripped like melting wax. “The boy’s energy must be eroded before he enters the final circle.” As the melting continued, the fusion point between the figures thinned to a sliver. “Each success will drain his resources, and he will be more willing to listen to other voices. If the girl helps him too much, he will not come to me in the weakened state I’m hoping for.” The dark figures popped apart, and Morgan snatched them out of the air, gripping one in each hand. With a squeeze of her fingers, the taller one vanished in a puff of smoke. She caressed the smaller figure, lifting it close to her face and closing her eyes. As she breathed, the black clay evaporated, and its dark vapors rushed into her nostrils. Morgan’s eyes glazed over as she let out a satisfied sigh.

  Palin shuddered. He shifted his feet, barely able to keep his eyes on the morbid sight. “If your goal is to wear him down, then why were your knights offering him a crown and a quick exit?”

  Morgan fluttered her lashes, and her eyes sharpened again. “They only appear to be helping him,” she said, walking toward him. “Their gift offerings come from the tops of temple walls, and they open a gate of passage that is not the shepherd’s.”

  Palin scowled. “You’re just like Merlin. You spout your uppity poetry to make normal people look bad.”

  She grabbed his face, squeezing his cheeks together with an iron grip. “Oh, Palin, you are such a simpleton.” She released him, patting one cheek like she would a baby’s. “I speak and act in ways beyond your ability to perceive, and young Arthur has the same blindness. So I will simplify it for you. If Bannister had taken the easy path, he would not have been a worthy king, and he would likely have been unable to set the Watchers free. The rightful heir, the true son of Arthur, would never abandon his mission, so I expected him to turn down our offer. You see, I need him to suffer through the circles. His victories will come at great cost to his strength, but in those empty triumphs he will gain unwarranted confidence. That will be his undoing when the real trial begins.”

  She pointed at the papers in Palin’s hand. “Did you examine them? Is it her handwriting?”

  “Yes. They’re the ones I took from her room back when I was alive.”

  She took the pages and strode toward the cave entrance. “Good. It’s time for me to return to my island and separate the prince from his princess.” She stopped, turned back toward Palin, and flashed a wicked smile. “I know you’re dead, my dear, but you can still watch the screen for me, can’t you?”

  Palin glared at the ground. “I’ll watch it.”

  “Good. If you see anyone you don’t expect, you know what to do.” She waved her arm toward the oval again, and an image of an island appeared. “I think I know who is interfering with my plans. Number three should have placed his scentsers in the fifth circle by now, so I will send him to collect the Stalworth girl. She will soon suffer Shiloh’s fate.”

  Ashley held the cell phone to her ear, walking swiftly through the woods with Walter close behind. “C’mon, Professor, answer the phone! You were there just a little while ago!”

  “This is Charles Hamilton. Evidently, I am either on another call or I have traveled out of range. I am confident, however, that I would like to receive your message. You see, I only give my number to people who are dear to me so—”

  Ashley scolded the phone. “Prof, just get to the beep!”

  “—in keeping with proper etiquette, please leave your name and number at the sound of the beep. There is no need to tell me the time of the call, because the messaging system provides me with that information.”

  Ashley rolled her eyes and whispered, “Patience . . . patience.”

  “Thank you for calling. . . . Beeeep!”

  “Professor! It’s Ashley. Listen. Walter and I need to get to Avalon. You said you were going there, but we don’t know where it is, and we don’t have a car.” She bit her lip and glanced up at the full moon. “I guess that’s it. You have my number. Give me a call ASAP. It’s super urgent.”

  Walter caught up to Ashley’s side. “Why don’t you just ask Larry where Avalon is?”

  Ashley slowed her gait. “It’s a legend, not a hard fact. Would a computer have that kind of data?”

  “Maybe Larry can do a search on the Arthur legends and give us the closest possibility. Prof would have told us if he was going somewhere far.”

  “Good point.” Ashley halted at the edge of the forest. “Larry, do a reference search and give me the best option for the location of Avalon.”

  “Search completed.”

  “Great. What did you find?”

  No answer.

  “Larry?”

  Karen’s voice sounded from the speaker. “Uh-oh!”

  Ashley crossed her arms. “Karen, I don’t like the sound of that ‘uh-oh.’”

  “Well . . . Larry’s got a little problem. His response started scrolling on the screen, but his voice synthesizer blew out, which, if you ask me, isn’t so bad. But then the screen froze. Think he’s stuck in another code loop?”

  Ashley grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled it back. “I doubt it. It’s been weeks since the last one. Read me what the screen says and throw the diagnostic switch. I’ll bet it’s hardware.”

  “The stuff on the screen looks like a list of book titles,” Karen replied, “but the last line says, ‘Glastonbury Tor.’”

  “Glastonbury?” Ashley repeated. “Isn’t that where we are?”

  Walter nodded. “Yeah. We’re just a few miles outside of the main part of town.”

  Ashley aimed her penlight at her wet sneakers. “We can walk if we have to.”

  “How can you walk to an island?”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” She punched a few keystrokes into her handheld computer.

  Walter peered over her shoulder. “Whatcha doin’?”

  “I’m checking an encyclopedia.” She angled the computer screen toward Walter. “Here it is—the Glastonbury Tor.”

  “That hill with the tower?”

  “Yeah,” Ashley replied. “Kind of weird looking, but it’s not an island.”

  “It wouldn’t take much to make it an island,” Walter said, putting his finger on the screen. “If this flat area flooded, that hill would stay dry.”

  Ashley nodded slowly. “Might be a possibility. Larry would be able to find the water levels back in the sixth century.” She tilted her head upward. “Karen, any report on Larry?”

  A muffled voice replied through the computer speaker, sounding far away. “I think you’re right about the hardware. I smell a fried circuit.”

  Ashley raised the computer to her ear. “I can barely hear you. Where are you?”

  “I crawled through Larry’s access panel. I’m looking at the CPU array near the middle of Larry’s innards.”

  “Watch out for the auxiliary power supply.”

  “I’m watching.”

  Ashley kicked through the damp grass. “What’s your guess? Is he going to be up soon?”

  “Can’t tell yet. I’ll let you know when I have a clue. At least the communicator’s still working.”

  Ashley let her arm fall to her side. She flicked off her penlight and dropped it into her cloak pocket. “There should be enough light. I’ll bet we can find that hill.”

  Walter squinted toward the dim horizon. “Is that it?”

  Ashley followed his gaze and smiled. “Yep. Just like in the picture.”

  “Whew! It looks pretty far.”

  Ashley slipped her thumbs behind the straps and took off with a quick, marching stride. “Then let’s start hoofing it, double time.”

  With Apollo in hand, Walter sprinted to catch up, then walked briskly at Ashley’s side. “What’ll we do when we get there?”

  “We’ll look for a portal. The grid on my computer may be able to locate Billy and Bonnie once we get close, but without Larry’s help, and with Apollo on the fritz, we could be on a wild goose chase.�
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  With the rain lessening to a light shower, Bonnie grasped her hair and wrung out the ends. “It’s really a double mystery—you coming through the portal even though I dropped you, and the medicine showing up in the nick of time. I can’t figure it out.”

  With a hard shake of his head, Billy slung a shower of droplets from his hair. “This place is so weird, I don’t even want to guess.”

  Bonnie watched Billy squeeze water from the hem of his long-sleeved shirt. The moisture made the material cling to his arms and chest, defining his muscular frame. His months of training had chiseled an admirable physique. Bonnie quickly averted her gaze and folded her hands behind her back. “Can you walk?” she asked, glancing back through the corner of her eye.

  Billy lifted his legs up and down, testing his weight on each one. “Yeah. I think so.” He touched the wound on his neck with his fingertips. “That thing packed a wallop!”

  Bonnie turned toward him again and ran her fingers across his cheek. “Your face is swollen. Did you know you were allergic to insect bites?”

  “I never have been before, but I don’t want any part of that bug again!”

  Bonnie gazed across the mist-covered marsh. “I don’t see a path anywhere, but Joseph said we wouldn’t always be able to see one. Do you think we’re supposed to go to that island?”

  Billy pointed at a small, castle-like building on top of the island’s hill. “I see a light in that second-story window. Since we’re supposed to follow the light, we might as well head for that one.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Billy scraped sand from the seat of his pants and stepped toward the edge of the water. “I wonder if it’s shallow enough to wade. We’re already wet.”

  Bonnie stepped to the edge, letting the toes of her shoes dip into the marsh. “True, but the water’s dark, and with all the vegetation, there’s no way to tell what’s lurking underneath.” She expanded her wings and gave them a quick shake, throwing a shower of tiny droplets all around. “Why don’t I just fly us there?”

  Billy lowered his head. “No. . . . I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?” she asked, waving a wing toward the island. “I’ve carried you before, and it’s only a few hundred yards.”

  “Yeah, but I weigh more now, and with the sword on my back, it would be too clumsy.”

  Bonnie bit the edge of her tongue, trying to think of a way to soften her words. “Billy, that sounds like an excuse to me. What’s really on your mind?”

  Billy flashed an uneasy grin. “Am I that transparent?”

  Bonnie cracked a smile and nodded.

  “Well, it would be pretty dangerous to carry me, but . . .”

  “But what?”

  “Well, I know you came along to be my helper, but it doesn’t feel right for you to be carrying me around. If anything, I should be carrying you around.”

  Bonnie crossed her arms over her chest. “Be careful what you wish for.”

  Billy clutched the wound on his neck and winced. His pupils expanded, and a light glaze coated his eyes. With his swollen cheeks turning crimson and his legs buckling, he seemed ready to topple over.

  Bonnie clutched his biceps. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” He widened his stance, and his eyes cleared up. “What were we talking about?”

  “Me carrying you across the marsh.”

  “Oh, yeah. Well, I don’t want you to get hurt. I really am a lot heavier now, especially since I’m all wet.”

  Bonnie pressed her fists on her hips and held back a grin. She decided not to touch Billy’s “all wet” remark. “All right. I guess while you wade, I’ll fly.” She pointed toward the island. “I’ll wait for you right there on the shore next to those two trees. Okay?”

  Billy kicked at a clump of grass in the sand and nodded. “Okay. I didn’t mean to make you mad or anything. I guess that bug zapped my brain.” He lifted his head. “I’m sorry.”

  Bonnie smiled. “It’s okay. I’ll see you in a few minutes. If you run into trouble, just give me a yell.” She launched into the air and zoomed low over the water. With the cloud cover keeping the marsh dim, and swaths of wiry grass coating the surface, there was no danger of seeing her reflection and violating the mirror warning. She watched for movement, ready to warn Billy if any strange creatures were hiding in the swamp. Raindrops pelted the inky stew, painting overlapping circles across the watery expanse. All else remained quiet.

  Bonnie landed gently on a strip of soft grass that painted a skirt of green around the island. She found the trees she had pointed out to Billy and stood under one of the overarching boughs. The branches dangled a host of fist-sized apples just above her eye level, their red skin covered with streams of rain. She reached out and caressed one.

  As soon as her fingers touched the peel, an image of the fruit tree in the first circle flashed into her mind. She jerked her hand away, remembering Joseph’s warning that nothing would be fit to eat in the circles. So far, that was no problem. The meal Joseph provided had been plenty.

  Bonnie shook her wings out again and gazed over the marsh. Billy’s form labored through the mixture of muddy water and weeds, his elbows raised high and his knees poking out of the water with each step. His slow progress told her that he was probably trudging through mud at the bottom.

  Bonnie chewed on her bottom lip. I wish he would’ve let me carry him. The apple swung just above her head like a pendulum, and she bumped it with her fist to keep it going. Is it pride? Or maybe it’s a spirit of independence. Maybe he’s just trying to learn how to get along on his own, without me to help him all the time.

  A coarse, squawking voice broke the silence. “He’s a stubborn one, isn’t he?”

  Bonnie pivoted, searching the shore. The grass on the island beach stretched in both directions without a hint of movement. “Who said that?”

  The voice croaked again. “I did. Look up.”

  Bonnie searched the branches of one of the apple trees. A large raven perched on the highest limb. Fluttering its wings, it hopped from branch to branch until it reached a thin offshoot just above the swinging apple. “I can see why you love him, Bonnie, but he has that stubborn male ego. If he doesn’t learn to master it, he’s going to get both of you in trouble.”

  Bonnie narrowed her eyes. “Who are you? How do you know my name?”

  “I am the mistress of this island, and I am your friend.”

  “If you were a friend,” Bonnie replied, clenching her fists, “you wouldn’t be insulting Billy.”

  The bird cackled. “Oh, no! Not an insult . . . an observation. I am his friend, too. Should I not try to help a friend see his shortcomings? Should I not point out faults that may endanger his life?”

  Bonnie pulled down on the branch and let go, flinging it, and the raven, straight up. “Then point out his faults to him. Telling me is just gossip.”

  The bird fluttered down to a lower branch, its eyes glowing a ghostly yellow-green. “So you say, my dear, but I beg to differ. It is not gossip if I’m trying to save his life.”

  A surge of heat rushed into Bonnie’s cheeks. “Save his life? What do you mean?”

  “His pride has endangered him, and it will be his death if he doesn’t change.” The raven flew down to the ground. It stretched out its wings, and its entire body elongated. Its feathers changed into a flowing gown, its head grew long, silky hair, and its face became thin and angular. Within seconds, a tall, slender woman dressed in black stood at Bonnie’s side. She held out her hand. “Come with me,” she said, her voice deep and silky. “When William nears the shore my guardian serpents will attack. I have a boat. If we hurry, we can reach him in time.”

  Bonnie unfurled her wings. “I’ll fly to get him!”

  The woman grabbed her wrist. “No! The serpents can stretch ten feet into the air. They’ll grab you, too. I am their mistress. They will not attack my boat.”

  Bonnie jerked back but couldn’t pull free from the powerful gr
ip. “Let me go, or I’ll scream!”

  The lady snapped her fingers. A plume of bone-colored vapor rose from her palm. With a wave of her hand, she fanned the cloud into Bonnie’s face. “Be silent!” she growled. Her grip twisted, wrenching Bonnie’s elbow. “You’re coming with me!”

  Bonnie’s throat constricted. She couldn’t scream. She could barely even breathe. Still caught in the woman’s grip, Bonnie stumbled along at her side as they hurried down the shoreline. She tried desperately to wave at Billy, but would he understand her warning signal? And what did this evil raven have in store for her? Would Billy be her next victim?

  Still marching briskly, Ashley turned up the speaker volume on her computer. “We’re here, Sir Barlow. Did you say something?”

  “William and the maiden have separated. She flew away, but I cannot tell where. William seems to be wading toward the island.”

  Walter wrinkled his nose. “Separated? That’s got ‘bad idea’ written all over it.”

  “I’m with you, Walter.” Ashley pressed a button on the computer. “Sir Barlow, I’m going to try to get a reading on their location again. Just pipe up whenever you see something new.”

  “Pipe up, Miss? I’m afraid I’m not familiar with that idiom.”

  “Your pipes are your vocal chords—your voice. Use it.”

  “Yes, yes, of course.”

  Ashley glared at the computer. “The signal’s weak, but I think we’re getting close.” She held the device up against the horizon with the tor as a backdrop. The tower at the peak loomed in the darkness like a lonely sentry. A rising mist encircled the base of the tor, making the hill look like an island at sea. With the city lights casting an eerie glow across the fog, the tower resembled an abandoned lighthouse at the end of an elevated cape.

  When Ashley’s cell phone rang, she jumped. The computer slipped from her hand, and Walter lurched forward, snatching it just before it hit the ground.

  Ashley smiled and grabbed the phone from her belt. “Nice catch, buddy!” She glanced at the number on the tiny glowing screen and pressed the phone against her ear. “Professor! We’ve been trying to call you.”