Concentric Circles (27 page)

“Well, then let’s go.” They journeyed dry on their passage. The security of Meekal’s arms and the soft landing in his bedroom allowed her to experience the power of traveling in a relaxed way.

“Your bedroom?” she teased. Laughter met her ears as she looked around.

“There may be guests downstairs. Hold on and let me call mum.” He flipped his cell phone open and pressed the number. While he talked on the phone, she approached the portrait of Wiston Castle and noticed that Keira was nowhere within the frame. “All right, Mum. We’ll be down in a little while.” The phone snapped closed. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I was just wondering about Keira.”

“She isn’t always there. It’s hard for her to be at Wiston Castle even after all these years. She spends most of her time in Annwn.”

Confusion tickled her mind. “Annwn?”

“Aye. I mean Avalon. To everyone else it’s the mythical place of King Arthur. To us, it’s simply Annwn under the Tor.”

“Oh.” She didn’t feel ready for a new barrage of information so she changed the subject. “What are we going to do about Syther?”

He shrugged and pulled the chair away from his desk before opening a drawer. “Grandfather told me before we left Ohio that Gail, James and Leith were tracking his whereabouts. They were getting close. Once we find his lair, we’ll be able to penetrate it. The Adjutors hope to take him alive. If we can’t, then we’ll have to vanquish him.” He pulled a box from the inner depths of the drawer and closed it.

“You mean kill him.”

Meekal chewed his lower lip. She found herself mesmerized by the action as she waited for his answer.

“Not exactly. Sit down.”

“What do you mean, not exactly?” She did not move from her spot, even as he indicated the chair.

“Shay, please sit down.” He waited, obviously not going to explain until she sat.

“Kal.”

“I’ll tell you if you sit. It’s a bit complicated and will take awhile. You may as well be comfortable.”

“Alright, I’m sitting,” she replied with a grunt as her behind met the cushion of the chair. “I’m also waiting.”

Meekal pushed his hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end and took his first few paces across the room. The box in his other hand flipped in the air as he tossed it and muttered under his breath. He began to pick up speed in his measured footsteps.

“Why do you do that?”

He stopped. “Do what?”

“Pace.”

“Oh well, it’s a habit I picked up from Black Bry.”

“Really?” A sensation of recognition sprang through her even though she did not understand its origin. “How do you pick up a habit from a portrait?”

“It isn’t that simple.”

“Why are you nervous?” She tilted her head and studied him. “I haven’t known you very long, yet I know you’re nervous about something. Even after everything we’ve been through...” She allowed her voice to disappear and narrowed her eyes. The feelings she experienced, wrapped around her. She began to realize they were not just hers. “Kal?”

“You went into the portrait with me. Didn’t that make you have questions?”

“Sure. I just thought it was another aspect of magic I didn’t understand. You know, a portal to another plane or something.”

“Well, I guess you could say that, but that isn’t it, exactly.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in the chair. “I’m still waiting.”

“Which question do you want me to answer? The one about vanquishing Syther, or the portrait and Black Bryan?” His gaze dropped to the box in his hand.

Shayla’s followed. Purple velvet fabric covered the box. “What’s that?”

He approached her and knelt.

Her heart stopped.

“It’s okay, love.” He looked up at her, his eyes intense with emotion. “Can you feel it?”

Memory of the white light surrounding her at the Pool encompassed her until she realized that was not what it was. Instead, the love embraced her in the present moment. She gasped and released a sob in the same breath. Her heart began to beat rapidly, sending her blood rushing forth with such intensity it made her shake. “Kal,” she whispered, barely able to speak.

Gentleness vibrated from him. “Shayla, it’s not what you think. I mean. Well, yes it is, except,” he said, releasing a breath and took her hand. “I love you. I know that without a doubt in my heart and mind. I never believed it would ever happen to me, even though I saw it between Bry and Morna. First hand.” He stopped speaking and watched her closely.

Her mind spun in a sudden turmoil. “First hand?” A niggling of doubt at his words twisted around her heart.

“Yes, love. Up close and personal. Literally, first hand.” In slow motion, his fingers moved from hers to the box.

A sudden sense of loss at the departure of his touch swooped to her heart. “What?”

He opened the box. Cradled inside upon purple velvet lay a gold and silver pendant etched with the concentric circles of the Vesica Pisces Pool. The gold sparkled against his skin as he lifted the chain and held it for her to see. “The concentric circles mean many things to many people. When you came into my life, in that very moment at the Pool, I knew with certainty you were my matching circle. See the part where they are joined?”

She felt hypnotized by the vision of his hand laced with gold and silver. “Yes.”

“To me, that’s our hearts, beating as though one.”

She met his eyes. Her heart flipped.

“Shay, I couldn’t have taken anyone else into the portrait.”

At the center of her being, she realized this was truth. “I don’t understand.”

“The portrait isn’t just a doorway to Wiston Castle. It opens into the world in which I spent a lot of time growing up. Where Black Bryan and Morna taught me about my destiny and Annwn.”

“You grew up in Avalon?”

“Annwn, love.”

“The mythical Annwn?”

“Shayla, you are one of us. I know it’s hard to understand sometimes. The White Lady, the Pool, C
IARAN
L
EXISS
, and then there’s your experience with Syther and Sheitan. Everything culminates in your destiny just as it does in mine. We are meant to be together.”

“I understand even though it’s difficult sometimes. But, what does this have to do with Syther?”

“I’ll explain, but first, I want you to wear this pendant. It will protect you. There is something else. I know it may seem too soon.”

Her heart stopped again. “Will you please not do this again?”

“Will you marry me?”

“Kal.”

He moved up and placed a quick kiss on her lips.

“Yes,” she breathed against him, and then she pressed forward to seal the answer. Moments later, she pulled away breathless, her fingers lost in black silky strands. “Kal, what about?” Lips found hers again.

“We’ll get you a ring later. I want you to wear this pendant. It has magical powers of protection and deflection. It may help in the coming battle.”

“Why don’t you wear it?”

He held her gaze and caressed her neck where the chain rested against her skin. “It marks you as being my promised. In Annwn, I mean. I don’t think we’ll have to go there, but just in case we do.”

“Okay.”

He pulled away and stood before her. “When we find Syther, there’s a possibility we may be able to vanquish him instead of killing him.”

She nodded and fingered the gold pendant where it rested just at the juncture of her throat.

“If we kill him,” he said, pacing to the window and turning. “There is always the possibility of someone stealing his body and taking his power. However, if we vanquish him and take his soul into Annwn, there’ll be no way another evil Thyrza could take over his power. I’m talking about the same way that Syther took Tebalour Doomstar’s bones. This was a new method, never before used by anyone. It was collaboration between Syther and Zubird that made the spell possible.”

“How will it work and is that actually where Malvenue is? In Annwn?”

“Malvenue really is in Black Bry’s portrait pocket. We kept him close in the beginning because we were unsure of how the spell on the bezoar stone would hold up. Time runs slightly different in Annwn. We didn’t want something to happen to the stone and find out about it years later.”

“But…”

“Shayla, Black Bryan is in Annwn, his portrait is here. It’s just like your mum having a picture of you on her mantel and you being here.”

“Oh. Still alive?”

“Aye. Black Bry is an immortal changeling. Do you understand?” He waited, watching her face change expression as she processed this new information.

Finally, she nodded.

“That brings us back to Syther,” he said. “When we face him, we will all work together to see that he doesn’t return. When we capture him, he will stand trial before the Brehons. They are the judges appointed by the Council of Magical Clans.”

“I thought you said vanquish him?”

“Yes, but we want to follow legal procedure. That means capturing him and turning him over to the authorities. Trust me, the Council wants him finished just as much as we do. He is a wanted criminal.” Meekal pushed his fingers through his hair again and resumed his pacing. “Sure, there are others who may step up into his persona of leader. Thing is, his capture should set any plans backward enough to allow us some breathing room for awhile.” He stopped before her. “You realize that there will always be more, someone else, right?”

“Yes, I suppose so. I’ve seen enough movies and TV to know that evil always rears its ugly head.”

He snorted. “Aye. Anyway, once we find him, the spell work required will pull us all together in much the same way the Shadow Parameters spell did. Our bond, the magical bond you and I share, will strengthen it.” He waved his hand around at the room’s antiques to indicate his family. “The family connection will also work to our advantage. It’s like I said that night you first met Dragar. We’ve been around since 1066. That’s an important history. Now, you are a part of that.”

Shayla’s stomach answered for her, compelling a warm blush to her cheeks. She laughed and tried to brush aside the embarrassment of her stomach.

“Come on. Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving, too. Proposing makes a man hungry.” He pulled her up and kissed her briefly before leading her down the stairs and out the bookcase into the upper hall.

[18] Caitiff’s Spider

Meekal ran along Chilkwell Street past the intersection of Bere Lane to where his namesake changed into Lambrook Rd. He allowed himself a smirk as recollection of Shayla’s voice came to mind.
“Chilkwell Street?”

He liked to hash things out in his mind when he ran. This was actually his first opportunity since she arrived in Glastonbury and appeared in his life like an angel. He tipped his head in greeting to another runner, continuing past Harry’s Pub, reminiscing. “Down boy,” he whispered to his anatomy. He moved past the Abbey grounds on the left and fought another smirk.
Oh yeah, make a memory. Stop it. Chilkwell Street?

Harry’s laughter edged his mind.
“Yeah, Kal has a street named after him.”

He smiled at a woman pushing a kid in a small pram and finally allowed the laugh that had been building to come out.
“No, I’m named after a street.”
He and Harry hadn’t used that joke since they were kids.

He paused at the intersection of Lambert and High, waiting for traffic. His feet hit the pavement differently as he ran in place to keep his heart rate at a steady pace. Even during his lifetime, the traffic had increased. People always came to Glastonbury, especially now due to ease of travel.

He coughed when an old American Ford F150 passed, leaving the sharp scent of neglect in its wake.
Ugh! Change the oil, man!
He shuddered as a breeze carried the noxious odor closer to him instead of away. “Twenty-first century and some people still don’t care about our environment,” he muttered.

He stepped down into the intersection and crossed High Street while the light remained red. “Stupid prat.” The growling in his head shifted his thoughts from pleasant to disagreeable. Unfortunately, his mind came around to his pressing problem of Syther: thief, plunderer and now, murderer.

“Hey, Kal, how’s it, mate?”

Meekal gave Joe an easy grin and friendly wave. At least it felt easy. Once past Joe, Syther loomed in his brain again. He sighed. The very concept of criminals was not a big deal. That’s what kept him in business, after all. Being an Adjutor was important. Protectors of the Well and law was his family’s legacy. Pride grew within even as he felt a certain amount of sadness for Gail.
How does someone so nice, fall in love with wickedness?

“Watch it! Stupid bloke!”

“Excuse me,” he said, apologizing to Finnegan Lunn. “Old coot,” he growled under his breath. He’d seen Lunn step in front of him on purpose. A mischievous thrill went through him. Meekal blinked his eyes toward the greenhouse the next block over where Lunn spent most of his days.
Mum’ll be in a twist, but hell, Lunn hasn’t seen blue in his white roses for years. Besides, didn’t do ‘em all.

Meekal tapped on the glass of the Glastonbury Tourist Centre and gave Moe a one-handed signal. She waved him on around to the back. He turned the corner. A red auto, surrounded by tourists gawking at the sights sent a comforting feeling of home through him. “Good day.”

“Hello,” a blonde haired woman said as she attempted to smooth her son’s messy locks. They just curled up around his face in rebellion, giving the youngster the look of an innocent imp.

He laughed as the little boy tried to pull away. A right turn into the alley; he stopped, and looked around, making sure he was alone.
All clear.

Still in need of caution, he turned to face the street, eyed the pavement and even watched a large truck lumber past. The rumbling engine accompanied by the sound of a horn blowing insistently grated on his spine. He shook the sensation off and smoothed his hand down the front of his chest.

His running clothes, faded purple hoody and black sweats, converted into casual jeans topped with a white button-down under his favorite Pringle of Scotland cashmere jumper. He ran his hand down the exquisite softness, relishing the feel of the finest wool. It literally made his fingers tingle.