“It feels right,” Evelyn observed, beginning her own stretching exercises.
“That’s good enough,” Cadell said. “Colm is the one should teach you the longsword, though. His trueblade is a longsword. But I can run you through the basics.”
After their warm-up was done, Cadell began to instruct Evelyn in the basic stances associated with using her chosen weapon. “The basic stance is a lot like a boxer’s stance, except your feet are a little farther apart.” Evelyn took up her fighting stance.
“Good,” Cadell encouraged, taking up his own training sword. “There are three basic steps in longsword footwork.”
The flat of Cadell’s training sword slapped Evelyn across the back of her thighs. “No,” Cadell instructed. “The sword always moves before the feet when you attack. If you move the feet first, you’re telling your opponent where the sword is going. Try again.”
“Damn it,” Evelyn cursed. “We’ve been at this for hours. You’d think I’d remember that.” She thrust the training sword at his midsection. He sidestepped, parried the thrust to the left and spun his own trainer tightly to tap her on the right side of her head. “Better,” he affirmed. “But don’t get fixated on your target and forget to defend yourself in case your attack misses. Did you see how my parry translated directly into a counterattack?”
“Yeah,” Evelyn said, nodding. “You brought the back edge of your blade around without losing contact with my blade.”
“Right,” Cadell agreed. “Usually, you can attack while always keeping your sword between yourself and your opponent’s sword. With practice, it becomes second nature.”
“I’m beginning to see how the guards flow into cuts,” Evelyn observed. “Every attack can flow into a parry or block and every parry or block can flow into an attack.” Cadell nodded and lifted his training sword with the grip at hip level so that point was angled in front of him and pointing at Evelyn’s face. “You can go from the Plow
Guard”… He moved the trainer sharply upward, so that his arms were extended in front of him at just above eye level and the tip was angled down towards Evelyn’s face...“into an Ox Guard, and then into Cross Strike…” He turned the blade in his hands and tapped Evelyn on the right side of her head with its second edge without having his blade lose contact with hers. He was now holding the training blade with its grip on the left side of his head, with the blade at just above shoulder height, mere inches from Evelyn’s head. “From there, you can reverse and hit your opponent with a Cross Strike on the other side of his head or you can thrust and end in Long Point guard and so on,” he continued, his sword fully extended and pointing at Evelyn’s chest. “Of course, you won’t be repeating the same combination over and over again when you’re fighting, but you’ll get the feel of stringing together all of the strikes and guards with the footwork,” Cadell assured her. “Did you see how I used a Gathering Step to close the distance after I parried with the Ox Guard?”
Evelyn nodded. “Yes. You just kind of shuffled forward and got to exactly the right distance to make your cut.”
“Right,” Cadell affirmed. “I could have used a passing step or a pivot step, too. You move the foot on the side of the direction that you’re going to move first, so you don’t cross legs over each other and trip yourself. Footwork has to be instinctive so you can focus your attention on your opponent.”
Evelyn repeated Cadell’s movements. “It’s different than a using a knife or Krav Maga, though. I’m used to getting close to my enemy. Having to deal with the extra reach of a sword feels strange.”
“You’ll get used to judging distance with practice,” Cadell assured her. “Concentrate on the footwork more than anything else at first. If you get footwork down, you’ll be able to control the range you’re fighting from.” “Footwork, footwork, footwork,” Callum said as he entered the gym, “the novice sword-fighter’s mantra. When I was kid, all I wanted to do was swing the swords around like in the movies. But dad and grandpa just kept telling me, ‘footwork, footwork, footwork,’” he repeated, smiling. “Come on,” he added, waving them toward the door. “Cai and the others are back. They found everyone on the list of local bad-ass spell casters but one, a guy named Emile Cole. We have to assume that he’s helping Blackwell or he’s hiding. We might beat Blackwell to the punch anyway. Mom’s almost ready to cast the spell and needs our help.”
The ten-by-ten foot thaumaturgy chamber was lit by dozens of candles on tables lining the walls. A six-pointed star comprised of two interlocking triangles contained within a circle had been drawn in white on the darkly stained hardwood floor with elaborate symbols at its points. Astrid was dressed in a simple blue skirt and red blouse, but her countenance had changed from that of a warm, loving mother into that of a supremely confident, powerful person radiating an unshakable resolve. The power of her presence permeated the room. She radiated magic as she knelt at the star’s center, deep in trance and recited a power-gathering chant while Helen, clad in a T-shirt and jeans, carefully washed a gleaming jeweled dagger with water from in a crystal bowl.
“Do you feel that?” Cadell asked Evelyn. “That tingling on your skin and the pulsing just behind your forehead? That’s magic. Mom has been gathering it into herself for hours. That’s what ceremonies do. They focus the will and intention of the caster to perform a task. Sigils, runes, ceremonies and verbal incantations or chants, they’re all just ways to focus the power of will and intention. That will and intention directs the magic.”
“Yes,” Evelyn replied, running a hand unconsciously up and down her arm. “I think I understand what you’re saying.”
Finished with her task, Helen approached Cadell, his brothers, Eve and Evelyn where they stood clustered near the doorway. She stood in front of Evelyn. “Evelyn, Astrid wanted me to explain what’s going to happen,” she said. “The spell we’re going to cast is powerful. It will locate Solomon’s ring no matter where it is, even if it isn’t in this dimension. It will see through any wards or masking spells. That means it takes a huge amount of power. Normally it would take Astrid days of chanting and meditation to gather enough power to cast this kind of spell, but we don’t have that kind of time. The brothers and I have done things like this before, but it’s new to you, and Astrid wanted me to tell you what you’ll be doing. If you don’t want to be part of it, everyone will understand.” “I’m listening,” Evelyn prompted.
Astrid held up the dagger she had just cleansed. “I’ll use this athame to draw a bit of blood from each of you and myself, and then I’ll enter the circle and draw some blood from Astrid. I’ll use that blood to link all of us magically and psychically. That will allow Astrid to tap all of our energy as she casts the spell,” she explained. “Evelyn, what you need to know that sharing power this way can be pretty intimate. It won’t work unless everyone involves trusts each other. Of course we won’t drain you dry of energy like the warlock did to those poor kids, but there may be some telepathic contact among us when we’re linked. Since you’re so new to this kind of thing and you don’t really know any of us, Astrid thought you might not be ready for that level of trust.”
Evelyn looked at Eve, Cadell and each of his brothers, then back to Helen. “I’ve been in battle with all of you twice in the one day since I met you. I’m way beyond wondering whether I trust you or not. I’m all in.” Cadell could help letting a pride-filled smile come to his face. “You’re not doing things the easy way. Why am I not surprised?”
“Because the lady has more guts that she does sense,” Christian replied, smiling at Evelyn along with the other Selkirk brothers and Eve. “She’s your perfect mate, little brother,” he told Cadell. “Neither one of you is as smart as you think you are and you’re both braver than you should be.”
Helen drew Evelyn in for a hug. “It will be nice having a woman closer to my age around.”
Evelyn smiled and hugged her back. “Am I going to be around?”
“Someone has to train you, since your family was so
negligent,” Christian answered, smiling while casting a hard gaze at Eve.
Callum slapped Cadell hard on one shoulder from behind. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Besides, if Cadell doesn’t snatch you up and make you his own, he’s even dumber than we all know he is.” “Callum,” Cadell said.
“What?” Callum replied.
Cadell elbowed him in the stomach hard enough to double him over slightly. “Shut up,” he ordered.
Callum laughed. “Now I know you’re sweet on her,” he pressed.
Cai was laughing as he stepped between Cadell and Callum. “We should get started,” he proclaimed.
“What about Brandell?” Evelyn asked. “Shouldn’t he be here for this?”
“Grandpa’s too old for this kind of thing,” Cadell answered. “It can be taxing.”
“Form a ring around the circle,” Astrid instructed. “When the spell is cast, focus on Astrid as much as you can. Will your power to her,” she continued as all that were present took their positions. “Her intention will direct the spell. That’s what magic is: will and intention focused to shape a part of the universe.”
Once every one was positioned around the circle to her liking, Helen went to each of them and pricked their index fingers, starting with Cadell and ending with Evelyn, until the blade’s tip was thoroughly coated with blood. She moved to the point of the star that Astrid was facing, moving the athame dagger as though she was cutting a doorway into thin air, safely opening the magic containment circle that surrounded the star. Astrid, still deep in trance and chanting softly, did not react as Helen closed the circle and used the athame to draw a drop of blood from her finger. Helen then pressed the athame into both of Astrid’s hands and held Astrid’s hands in hers. The heat seemed to be sucked out of the room as Astrid and Helen held the athame over their heads.
Astrid’s chanting became louder and Helen joined the chant as their voices fell into a rhythmic, haunting harmony. A breeze swirled around the room and built into a wind that seemingly had no physical source. Despite the absence of external heat, the occupants of the room felt a tingling heat on their skins. Their auras glowed and then began to shine with a brilliance that lit the chamber with a brightness that should have been painful. At the center of the circle-enclosed star, Astrid and Helen’s auras were so luminous that their shapes could no longer be distinguished as being human. It appeared to those outside the circle that a ball of brilliant spark-emitting light was at the star’s center. Ribbons of luminescence were projecting from Eve, Evelyn and the Selkirk brothers into the light that encompassed Helen and Astrid — spokes leading to a hub. Then the accumulated magic and psychic power flashed with a more-than-sun-like intensity. Astrid collapsed and Helen fell on top of her.
Cai rushed to his mother and cradled her head with a gentleness sons reserve for only their mothers. Cadell and
Evelyn paid similar attention to Helen. “Mom, can you hear me?” Cai asked, stroking Astrid’s cheek. She nodded her reply.
“Did you find the ring?” he asked.
“Edward Isles,” she replied weakly.
“Then go to sleep, Mom,” Cai told her, lifting her into his arms. “Rest.”
Chapter Seven
“Okay, someone tell the new girl why you all have the oh, shit look on your faces,” Evelyn demanded, still feeling slightly dizzy from the spell-casting link.
“Mom said that Edward Isles has the ring,” Cadell replied.
“And he’s an asshole,” Christian added.
“A very powerful, cagy and possibly sociopathic asshole,” Callum added.
“Dad and grandpa had a kind of arrangement with him,” Cai explained. “They always told us not to trust him but not to make an enemy of him.”
“Isles is a very powerful mage and alchemist,”
Clive elaborated.
“You mean the guys who try to lead into gold?” Evelyn asked.
“I would bet that changing lead into gold is the least of his talents,” Clive explained. “He’s an obsessive collector of antiquities, particularly magical antiquities.
He’s is obsessed with ancient objects of power. He creates his own enchanted objects and sells them to fund expanding his collection of relics. It’s well-known that he doesn’t care how the relics he collects are obtained.” Evelyn’s eyebrow rose into its distinctive arch. “If he’s such a bad guy and has the ring, why hasn’t he used it?” she queried.
“He may have used it, for all we know,” Colm answered. “Solomon’s ring can control all demons, not just the ones trapped in the brass vessel. Isles could have a bunch of demons cooking his meals and fetching his slippers. The guy is bat-shit crazy.”
“Or he may not know what he has,” Cadell says.
“It’s possible that he just thinks it’s another magical ring. He could have acquired it, tossed into his collection and just not gotten around to studying it yet. He’s quirky like that.”
“That’s the problem,” Cai interjected. “Isles doesn’t care about the demons or the Blessed or mankind. He’s an artist and his magic is his medium. All he wants to do is create new spells and magical items until he gets that once-in-a-life-time masterpiece. The world could be falling apart beneath his feet and he’d go right on working on his latest creation. If Blackwell offers him a magical item or spell component that he hasn’t seen or couldn't get on his own, Isles could just hand over the ring.”
“Then we have to get to him first and make him a better offer,” Cadell said.
“What are we going to offer him?” Cai replied. “What do we have that he might think is more valuable than Solomon’s ring?”
“How about we offer not to cut out his heart and stomp on it in front of his soon-to-be lifeless eyes,” Christian answered.
“Dad said not to make an enemy out of him,” Cai retorted.
“He wouldn’t be our enemy,” Christian countered. “He’d be dead.”
“We’ll just have to go and talk to him,” Cadell said, as Cai glared Christian into silence. “Make a deal.” Cai nodded. “I’ll get grandpa and we’ll set up a meeting,” he said. “Everyone should try to get some rest while we’re gone. Having our power channeled like that is always a little draining.”
“What if we have to take the ring away from Isles?” Cadell asked, holding Cai’s gaze.
Cai’s eyes were unflinching. “Then we do what must be done. But if we have to fight Isles, we make sure that we kill him. I don’t want us waiting for him to pop out of the shadows for the rest of our lives. But for now, we talk to him and hope we catch him in a moment of relative sanity.”
Isles’ home was a large but somewhat plain Colonial-era house in the Belmont suburb. Although nondescript, the house had a simple elegance to it. It was painted in a shade of white so pure that it made the drifting snow surrounding it seem dull in contrast. Trees that would bear fruit in the summer were scattered about the surrounding grounds. A red brick walkway led from the private cul-de-sac to a set of hardwood doors covered by a small, roofed porch and adorned with brass knockers. Every window was equipped with shutters and all the shutters were closed.
“His wards are down,” Cadell noted, observing the house from the Escalade’s passenger seat. “You still can see little glittering patches of what’s left of them clinging to the house.”
“That spell mom cast blasted through them,” Cai confirmed. “If Solomon’s location spell could do this to wards raised by someone as powerful as Isles, think what one of his killing spells would do.”
“I’d rather not think about that, actually,’ Cadell replied. “I don’t see any sign of Blackwell or his Tainteds.” “Isles said that he’d only talk to you,” Cai said. “He wants to meet a Seventh and talk to you alone. Grandpa
couldn’t convince him to let me come with you.”
Cadell nudged his brother with an elbow “Don’t sweat it,” he assured Cai. “From what Dad and Grandpa said, Isles isn’t the type to get into a fight unless he’s provoked. It’s nice h
aving you and the guys around in case mayhem should ensue, though.”
“You’re probably right about Isles, though,” Cai assured Cadell. “Callum and Colm are stationed around the house in case Blackwell or his goons show up. Evelyn was pretty pissed when you told her to stay home, though.”
“Thanks for backing me up on that,” Cadell said. “Dad always told me to be careful around alchemists. He said that the blood of a Seventh could be used to make some really nasty magic. I didn’t want a crazy alchemist knowing that Evelyn is a Seventh until we’ve had time to give her some proper training. And the last thing in the world we need to do is give him not one, but two Sevenths.”
“Makes sense to me,” Cai agreed. “But she was still pissed.”
“I know,” Cadell said. “But she’s smart enough to know that I was right. She relented a bit when I told her that she’d be doing her part by helping grandpa take care of mom and Helen. She’s one of those people that always has to be doing something useful.”
“She’s a go-getter, that’s for sure,” Cai agreed. Cadell opened the car door. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he told Cai as he stepped out of the vehicle.
“Be careful about what you say,” Cai instructed. “Try not to make any deals until we can talk it over with the family.”
“Right,” Cadell replied as he walked towards Isles’ house. “I won’t sign our house over or sign my soul away in blood,” he added.
He used the brass knockers as he reached the door, having found no button for a doorbell. The door opened slowly and revealed two very large human-appearing men. Their auras told Cadell that they were some sort of supernatural beings, but he could not discern which type. His trained eyes could see slight tell-tale bulges of weapons being carried beneath their perfectly-tailored charcoal-gray suits. “I’m Cadell Selkirk. I have an appointment,” Cadell announced.
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