Concentric Circles (30 page)

Lord and master of this cadre of wickedness, Malvenue joined him in laughter. “You never cease to amaze me, Vincent.”

Sudden, unexpected knowledge pummeled Meekal. He frowned, realization dawning when he heard the timbre change of Malvenue’s voice as he spoke Vince’s name. Meekal looked between them, calculating.

Bane Nott growled at their friendly interaction while Grymm glowered, picked up his wine glass and emptied it.

Vince lifted a shoulder in nonchalance.

Malvenue picked the crumpled paper up, smoothed it and renewed studying the information written there. The mood shifted discernibly. “That’s all well and good; however, Vincent, I would still like to know any ideas you have regarding our perplexing problem.”

“I don’t think there’s an Avertable Charm. As you can see from my notes, I believe there are actually five wards in place. That’s why you could not cross into the exterior gardens, sir. As to the issue of the son, well, I confess I don’t know where he is or how you will find him.”

Meekal laughed and waved, knowing with absolute certainty his presence was concealed even from a magical perspective. “Wow, this is so kewl,” he said, and then listened to the echo of his voice through the sheltering stones around him.

“I figured,” Vince said, glancing at Malvenue’s inept companions. “That your lieutenants would be able to find him.”

Meekal couldn’t resist. “Hidden in plain sight. In more ways than one,” he added with a smirk toward Professor Joshua Grymm. “Meow.”

A sigh of resignation escaped Malvenue. He set the paper aside and poured a refill of brandy. Spinning it in the snifter, he studied the amber glow.

“There’s more bad news, sir.”

A sip, and then Malvenue returned his attention to business. “You’ve just informed me that the Chilkwell whelp is nowhere to be found. What else is there?”

“Faitour. Headmaster Farryl has him in custody.”

Malvenue set his brandy glass down with a loud bang.

“I know you wanted the deserter captured. I was unable to get to him. He was accosted in the Atrium by several cats.”

“Meow,” Meekal said, accomplishment renewed by the memory of Faitour’s capture.

“Professor O’dara froze him, and then transported him to the Headmaster’s sanctuary.”

Malvenue stood and began pacing in front of the fireplace.

“It’s a lie,” Joshua Grymm insisted. “I would know if it were true.”

“I hope he wasn’t well informed, sir. I’m sure Farryl and O’dara won’t hesitate to use any means to get him to talk.”

“I tell you, sir. He’s lying. My spies would have told me,” Grymm added, glaring at Vince.

Malvenue rubbed his temples. “Nott, you should go. Prepare the circular chamber for our meeting. I will be down shortly.” He waved a dismissive hand at Grymm and Syther, indicating they should also leave.

A heavy silence fell in the chamber after they left. Malvenue continued to massage his head as though it ached miserably.

“Sir?” Vince placed a small vial on the table.

Memory teased the edge of Meekal’s mind. He worked to pull it forward as he watched Malvenue place three drops of elixir on his tongue. Then it snapped fully into place.

Sitting in a circle of friends, Vince nodded. “He’s still taking the potion O’dara prepared. He is actually taking more than required since he took three drops instead of two.” Vince quirked a brow. “He’s also enjoying his brandy.”

Fifteen years old when this holographic styled castle memory occurred, Meekal acknowledged in present day just how naive he had been. Elixir of Bilberry enhanced with witch’s grass—overdosed and combined with brandy. A most potent libido reducer. He chuckled and returned focus on Vince. The young spy had been protected from Malvenue’s advances by a potion and brandy. “Ah, the wonder of magic,” Meekal murmured.

“Thank you, Vincent.” Malvenue reached for his brandy snifter and emptied it.

“You’re welcome, sir. I figured it was best to wait until we were alone before I gave it to you.”

Meekal studied the men as they left the chamber to go below for the meeting and subsequent duel between Vince and Bane Nott. Meekal chewed his lip. What did he learn?

This castle belonged to Syther. Council intelligence always claimed Syther wasn’t in the thick of Malvenue’s plot to steal the Well’s Power and overthrow the Council of Brehons. “Why didn’t you report that info, Vince? Or did you?”

The air around him shifted, sending him through a vortex of noise and magical energy. “Ahh!”

He landed with a thump, leg colliding with a table. “What the?” In a rush, he stood and placed a palm on the tabletop. He was out of the wall.

“Ye fool!”

Meekal gasped, spun around and came face to face with Pernicious BranBalder.

A fist collided with Pernicious’ jaw, sending him flying backward, crashing into the wall.

Meekal grunted at the impact, doubly confused by the two-sided sensation. He rubbed his jaw and ogled the man who punched Pernicious.

Rigid with anger, Black Bryan Chilkwell stood, feet planted apart and fists balled, glaring, fit to kick arse. He paused in his rampage and glanced around.

“Bloody hell,” Meekal said, stepping forward. “Grandfather?”

Black Bry swatted the air.

Pernicious stood. “You know Lilith is the next guardian. That’s why I’m here in this time to help train her.”

Black Bryan grunted, palms outward, still feeling the air around them.

“What’s wrong?” Pernicious asked, watching with a concerned frown.

“Can’t ye feel that? Something queer.”

Meekal snorted. “Okay, so you can’t see me. What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to kick your arse.”

“My purpose is honorable.” Meekal’s voice blended seamlessly with Pernicious’. Meekal shivered. It had been awhile since he experienced oneness with his past life soul—Pernicious BranBalder.

Pernicious pulled a small knife from his breeches waistband and laid it on the table.

“C
IARAN
L
EXISS
,” Meekal murmured. “Lesson learned.” A powerful gust of wind grabbed him and plunged body and soul back into the stones.
Bloody hell
.

He traveled through every stone. Wisdom of the ages melded with his soul and every molecule of his being. He returned to the chamber, which he now recognized as the heart of the majestic castle.

With the ease of familiarity, he stepped into his sanctuary. It was no longer a prison cell. The chamber under the stairs had a new purpose. The center shadow-heart called to him. He sat crossed-legged and began to reach out. With each exhale, he extended himself further.

“Shayla.” He moved on the web of power, closer and closer to his heart’s desire. “Shayla,” he said, singing her name.

The stars and clouds went by. Trees ready for winter whispered to him on his journey. “Shayla.” Riding a ley line, he passed through the walls of his home.

A screech split the atmosphere of the library.

“Are you dead?” Her face traced with distress, Shayla stared at him.

“No, I’m alive.”

Chaeli’s expression changed at once, a flush of worry evident. “Shayla, what is it?”

“You can’t see him?”

“See who?”

A sudden breath escaped Shayla and she collapsed in a wingchair. She pointed at him. “You glow, like a ghost,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes.

“Don’t be afraid, love. I’m not dead. Believe me. Please tell mum I’m here.”

Hesitation registered on her face, and then Shayla pulled her eyes away. “Chaeli.” Her breath hitched.

“Shayla,” Joseph said. “What are you trying to say? Take a deep inhale and relax.”

She closed her eyes and sat back, breathing deeply for a few moments. “Kal. He’s here.”

Meekal’s grandparents, mum and Harry looked at her in disbelief.

“A ghost?” Chaeli’s voice cracked.

“He says no.” Shayla’s demeanor changed. “Where are you?”

“I’m somewhere in the Highlands. Shay, go to the Chalice Well. You will find the information you seek there. Tell the others you must go alone. The shadows shelter my location. The water spirits can guide you.” He sensed himself fading. “Use caution and bring C
IARAN
L
EXISS
. He has been here before. I must leave now.” Fading fast, he sent his gaze to his family. “I love you, Shayla. Tell my family I love them.”

[19] Shadow Run

Cool damp night air hugged Shayla within the deep confines of the Chalice Well. She knelt on one knee between the circular stone wall and a circle of black water.

Silver moonlight skimmed over the water. Wetness penetrated her jeans, saturating above the knee. For several moments she stared at the motionless surface of water, preparing her mind. “Belief, faith and intention,” she murmured low. The echo of her words passed over chilled skin, raising gooseflesh in its wake.

The still surface of the water mirrored the moon, its reflection glancing off as though a portal to another realm. The resulting light brightened the stones around her with lunar divinity. Shayla swallowed back the thought of such an unknown, portals into mystery, and knelt. Her presence here beneath the surface of the earth was a matter of life or death. She knew that. The moon, shining down from the circular opening above, reminded her of images she had seen of the human perception of God’s ever-watchful eye.

The sound of the eternal spring, which fed the well, brushed over her with a soft musical hum. She allowed its resonance to calm.

The vial she held, containing flint and hematite, ready for submersion into the sacred well, felt heavy in her hand. She let out a soft breath and whispered to the water spirits. “Blessed be. Come forth unto me.”

With slow deliberation and focus, she began to lower the container toward the depthless black. No planning or thought could prepare her. She could only go forward with faith in the outcome of her mission.

She felt a nervous twinge in her fingers when they met the embrace of cool water. She submerged the glass vial, pausing just before the container’s lip disappeared under the surface. She hesitated, allowing the magic to build power.

Warmth vibrated at the hollow of her throat where the concentric circle pendant rested. In memory, Meekal’s voice caressed her mind. “I’ll explain, but first, I want you to wear this pendant, Shayla. It will protect you.”

She answered that voice with a soft whisper. “I love you. Hang on, we’re coming.” She finished the slow descent of the vial into the water, stopping just under the surface, allowing a gentle cascade of the magical essence to flow into the earthly elements of flint and hematite within the glass. “Ancient spirits come to me.”

The flow into the vial intensified. Swirling into a small vortex, the motion caressed her submerged hand, growing in power and strength. She pulled her lower lip in, biting back anticipation even as confidence welled within her heart.

The motion of the water began to form into two separate entities, rising up from the black surface. She pulled her hand out, the vial full, and sat cross-legged on the ground, allowing the closeness of the curved stone wall behind to embrace and steady her with its agelessness. Her hand trembled as she placed the vial between her and the Well.
Dichotomy
.

A voice, wet with timelessness, spoke from the form on the right. “You have need of us?”

She nodded, wordless in her awe for just a moment. “Yes,” she managed to say after a deep breath. “I seek your council tonight because my love has been captured. We must save him so that your power will remain for the good of those who come here seeking healing and spiritual growth.”

“We know of this threat from the Wraythe,” the form on the left said, in a feminine tone.

Surprise jarred though Shayla. “You have communicated with the Wraythe? How is that possible?”

Deep masculine laughter greeted her. Still laughing, the form on the right said, “I am Prester. We, as water spirits, are all one. This is a concept that is lost on most humans. The seas and waters of the earth share energies. Only a few can hear our whispers. You are, of course, one who can hear, although you have never listened.”

“I…” Her voice vanished in the night air. The passage of her life denying magic flashed before her mind’s eye. She remembered times spent at the Gorge Park, its own sacredness embracing her with mother earth’s love. “I didn’t know.”

“Do not fret over Prester’s words. We are familiar with your sheltered past. Knowledge of your presence has been with us since before your birth. We knew you would come when the time was right.”

Incredulity spread through her like wildfire. “You knew?”

This time the laughter was feminine. “Yes. I am Naias. Serendipity happens,” she said with a smile upon her watery face. “You must not fear. We understand the urgency of your situation. Your young warrior is captive at a place called Shadow Run. You must go there yourself to retrieve him. Only you can save the line of Guardians.”

“How do I find Shadow Run?”

Naias and Prester shared a look and then pointed in unison to the silvery moon’s reflection on the water.

A shiver traveled through Shayla as realization dawned. She must go into the Well. Two voices spoke within her memory, “It will protect you.” Then, her mother’s angry tone, “Shayla, you don’t know what is behind the magic you use.” Discovery that Shayla implemented gifts received through her lineage before birth caused parental anger and disapproval. It pulled a tightened band around her heart.

She gazed into the wet depthless black. The glistening moon glow beckoned at its center, a portal to her future. “All right. How do I do it?”

“It will be simple.” Prester’s voice gave her confidence. “Step into the Well and we will take you. You will find it different from your wind-riding experiences.”

“I’m ready.” Shayla lifted the vial to her lips, taking a sip of the healing elixir. Then she set it on the ground and reached in to pull the hematite and flint out. The hematite would serve for grounding and the flint to provide extra protection and retribution to her enemy. She clenched them in her fist and stood.