Rune Gate Cycle: Omnibus, page 11
Douglas nodded. “That’s the problem with compulsions, they wear off over time. If I hadn’t removed it, it would have been completely gone by tomorrow. The next day at the latest.”
That felt right to her. When she pushed someone, it never had a lasting effect. “I still don’t believe your story.”
“But—”
Alex raised a hand. “I believe that you believe it.”
“Forgive me if I’m not much comforted, lady. You think me either a deluded fool or a madman. I’m not sure which is worse.”
Alex grinned at his sour tone, but then frowned. How could she believe anything he said now? There was only one way she could think of, but it made her uneasy. What if he had told her the truth, what then?
“Show me some magic and maybe, maybe, I’ll believe you.”
“Maybe?” Douglas smiled wryly. “You hedge your bets worse than a merchant!”
“Show me something, and then we’ll see.”
“What sort of thing?”
“Any sort of thing! Goddess, Doug, just show me something simple.”
Douglas sighed in frustration. “But you will say it was a trick like last night.”
“Then make it something I won’t say is a trick… oh wait a minute, wait a minute! I see what you’re doing now. You can’t do it, can you?”
Douglas scowled. “Anything can be dismissed by someone not willing to believe, Alex.”
“That someone isn’t me. I would love to believe your magic is real, I really would, but I can’t take it on faith. I’m not made that way. You’ll have to prove it to me.”
“But you just saw me… ah, you want something you can see and touch?”
Alex nodded. “Something simple.”
Douglas frowned. “Something simple she says, something simple. Sit in that chair and don’t move.”
“Why?” Alex said, eyeing the chair warily. “What are you going to do?”
Douglas growled something under his breath. “Just do it, or are you too frightened to know the truth?”
“I already know the truth, remember?”
“No, you only think you do.” Douglas pulled his taufr from the little leather pouch on his belt.
Alex sat nervously in her chair and watched Douglas intently. He cupped the talisman in both hands and scowled at it furiously.
“There. Satisfied?”
“What did you do?”
Douglas smirked. “Look down.”
Alex looked down and yelled. The chair started to wobble from her sudden movement, and she had to grab the arms to stop herself falling. The chair, with her on it, floated on a cushion of nothing. A couple more feet and her head would have bumped the ceiling!
She waved her hands above her head, searching for invisible wires, and then all round the floating chair. She couldn’t reach beneath it, but she doubted there was anything to find. She carefully jumped down to the floor and stared up at the floating chair. Douglas laughed so hard, she thought he might do himself permanent harm.
“Oh, my Lady, you did it!” Alex said in stunned delight.
“Yes.”
“But you did it!”
“Yes, I know, Alex. It’s a very simple spell—one that apprentices learn for practise. You did say that you wanted simple.”
Alex stared up in wonder. “But it’s floating on nothing!”
He shook his head. “It’s floating on air. There’s a difference.”
“What difference? It’s floating!”
“Sit down, Alex, and I’ll explain a few things.”
Alex couldn’t keep her eyes off the chair. She fumbled behind her for another one and sat. Reaching up to the chair leg closest to her, she nudged it gently. The chair spun slowly. As it turned, her entire world changed. She felt it realigning, shifting into a new pattern where overt magic not only could exist, but emphatically did. None of her studies could have prepared her for it. Years of studying the paranormal, years of studying Wicca, years of associating with men and woman who practised the craft and called themselves witches, and none of it had prepared her for the sheer wonder of it. This wasn’t wishful thinking, or hysteria, or science misunderstood, this was… magic!
Alex grinned and nudged the chair again.
“…and called it levitation. Alex?”
“What?”
“Are you listening to me?”
“It’s floating,” she said, then frowned worriedly. “Do you know what this means?”
Douglas shrugged. “That I was telling the truth?”
“Yes!”
“I told you I was.”
“Yes, but this is marvellous. Can you teach me?” she said eagerly.
“I don’t know. Perhaps. You have to realise that men and women are different, Alex. What works for one, doesn’t always work for the other.”
“Can you bring it down?”
“Easily.”
“Show me,” she said and Douglas did.
When the chair was back on the floor, she picked it up. It felt the same as before. It was no lighter than it had been and looked the same. She turned it over and felt the underside of the seat. The short hairs on her arm lifted, but she put that down to the excitement.
“It’s exactly the same as the others.”
Douglas nodded. “What did you expect?”
Alex shrugged. “I don’t know. For it to be lighter maybe.”
“The spell doesn’t work that way. I simply used the air below the chair to lift it.”
“Air.”
“Right,” Douglas said.
“Air used to lift things,” she mused and frowned. “Air pressure, maybe?”
“What?”
“I said air pressure. My people have learned that certain shapes, called airfoils, can lift heavy weights when moved through the air at speed. It’s just a difference in air pressure.”
Douglas’ eyes were glazed. “Oh.”
She was boring him, and airfoils didn’t explain a floating chair anyway. It was magic! She grinned at Douglas, but her delight drained away as she remembered why they were doing this. “I guess I owe you an apology for not believing you last night.”
Douglas waved that away. “It matters not.”
“It does, though. I was determined not to believe you. I’m sorry, Douglas.”
“For what?”
“For everything—hitting you with the truck, doubting you, thinking you were mad. I of all people should have been willing to at least hear you out, but instead I called it a trick and dismissed it. You know I have this thing inside me—don’t call it magic.”
Douglas clamped his mouth shut, protest unspoken.
“I have this thing, this power, and I used it to help Tomas. I saw something that should have made me believe you.”
“Saw what?”
Alex closed her eyes briefly, suddenly looking grave. “I saw a woman horribly murdered.”
“The ritual Lord Tomas spoke of?”
She shook her head. “He’s not a lord; we don’t have lords in this country. Tomas is our sheriff… law man?”
“Ah! I understand. He’s a thief-catcher.”
“Well, he does catch thieves, that’s true, but he does more than that. He and his men are responsible for catching anyone who commits any kind of crime within his jurisdiction. A friend of mine works with Tomas. She asked me to help her. Tomas didn’t like it—he’s uncomfortable with things he doesn’t understand—but he’s desperate to find the killer before another murder happens.”
“I understand, but you mentioned a ritual.”
Alex grimaced. “I saw the murder. A man carved runes into the victim while she was still alive and then killed her. Her heart and eyes were missing when Jenn found her.”
Douglas spat a vile oath and then looked up, red-faced. “Excuse me, Lady Alex, I forgot myself. What you describe is an abomination to my people.”
“It was the same as you showed me in the vision.”
“Not quite, lady, but close. The vision… I should tell you that what you call a vision was in fact a memory; my memory. A vision is an entirely different thing.”
Alex leaned forward eagerly. “How is it different?”
“Most people believe that visions are sent by the Mother Goddess to her chosen—only to her chosen. I know this to be false. They would call me heretic for saying that, but I know what is true.”
“And what is true?”
“That visions are sent by the Goddess to anyone she deems worthy.” He looked down. “Even a man.”
“How do you know?”
“She sent one to me,” Douglas said quietly looking away, as if fearing her censure.
“What was it?”
Douglas’ eyes shot back to hold hers. “You believe me?”
“Of course I believe you if you say it. Why shouldn’t I?”
Douglas grinned. “You’re a very contrary person, Alex. You know that surely?”
She laughed. “I’ve always thought of myself as pretty straightforward.”
“That you are not. You don’t believe the most ordinary things about my world—”
“Hey! I apologised for that already.”
“—and then you say that you believe the things my people would find the most unbelievable.” Douglas shook his head, smiling ruefully. “If I confessed to my people what I have to you, they would think me deluded at best and pity me for believing it. At worst… well, it’s best not to contemplate the worst that could happen. Suffice it to say, I would never confess my belief to anyone but you—not even to the most loyal friend I have.”
“Why say it to me then?”
Douglas shrugged. “I don’t know, but I think my secret is safe with you. Besides, it doesn’t matter now. This is another world vastly removed from mine. How can what I say here hurt me there?”
Alex shook her head. “Beats me. You say the ritual you showed me was different from the one I saw before. How was it different?”
Douglas frowned in thought and drew meaningless patterns with a finger upon the tabletop. “Certain magics—dark magics—require blood. It’s an absolute requirement, not a preference. The spell will not work without it. A death is not always necessary, but those who scruple to use such filthy magics rarely worry about killing the innocent. Blood magic of any kind is considered evil—even seemingly innocent uses.”
“Are there innocent uses?”
Douglas nodded. “I could prick my finger and use my own blood to power a spell, and it would be much stronger than the same spell created without using blood. I could call a spark to light my campfire let’s say, but if I use blood, a flame strong enough to burn a house to the ground could result. You see? Anything that sacrifices bodily essence will always have a stronger effect. It doesn’t even have to be blood. I could use breath or even my spittle—I have offended you.”
Alex had been shaking her head in fascination. “No, no. I’m not easily offended. It’s just that all this takes some getting used to. Does the sacrifice have to be animate?”
“By that you mean it must come from a living being?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a matter of degree,” Douglas hedged. “Wine makes a good sacrifice for certain spells, especially if the spell was intended to help the vines in a vineyard grow. Gold would be my preference for a spell designed to find a lost valuable. You see?”
Alex nodded. “You try to match the sacrifice with what the spell is intended to do.”
“All the best spells are made that way. Spells that sacrifice bodily essence are the strongest, though as I said, they aren’t always the most suitable. Blood is a strong sacrifice. Blood resulting in death stronger still, and…”
“And?”
Douglas hesitated. “The strongest of all is the power released by the destruction of a soul.”
Alex felt the blood drain from her face. “That’s what I saw, isn’t it?”
“I didn’t see what you saw, but I fear so.”
“Are you telling me that not only did he kill poor Sharon, he destroyed her soul too?”
“Yes.” Douglas shrugged. “Probably.”
“But why?! Why do that?”
“I’m guessing, but I think he needed more power to open the gate from this side. Magic feels weaker here; mine does at least. He probably couldn’t work his spell without the sacrifice of a soul.”
Alex nodded thoughtfully. That made about as much sense as anything else she had thought of. “Is it because you don’t belong here?”
“I’m not sure, but maybe. Your magic feels strong to me, but then I’m a weak mage in any world. Your power is constantly flowing out of you. This house is thick with it.”
Alex grimaced. “I’ve never understood what I do. I can’t control it or stop it.”
“But surely you have been trained?”
She laughed bitterly. “I told you before. Magic, real magic like yours, doesn’t exist here. Who could teach me about what does not exist?”
Douglas stared at Alex for a long moment as if unable to believe what she had told him. He reached for her hand. “You don’t even know how to shield, do you?”
Alex shrugged, but kept his hand in hers. She liked the feeling of connection that came with his warmth. “If I understand what you mean by shielding, then I guess not. What I do sounds completely different. I’ve studied with wiccans—you would say witches—who tried to help me, but apart from learning about the Goddess and the God, I learned nothing to help my condition. You’re the only person who can touch me without triggering my gift,” she said bitterly.
“That’s because I’m using my magic to counter yours. I’ve been doing it all along. Don’t hate your power, Alex. It would be like hating yourself. You only need to be taught how to control it.”
“Can you teach me?”
Douglas hesitated but then shook his head. “Daughters of the Mother do things differently. I could show you what I know, but the chances are it wouldn’t work properly or even at all. Men shield themselves by building walls in their minds.”
“I do that!” she said excitedly, but then she hedged. “Sort of. I imagine myself as a pillar of rock and everyone’s thoughts as the sea. The sea is powerful, but I am rock. Ever there, ever strong.”
“That’s a man’s technique. I’m not surprised you cannot bear another’s touch. Witches have other ways, powerful ways to protect themselves. Women’s secrets are not for men. You need your sisters to teach you, but you say there are none here.”
“You don’t know how they do it?”
“No man does, Alex. I’m sorry.”
Alex’s shoulders slumped in defeat.
* * *
8 ~ Revelations
Douglas felt Alex’s disappointment in him keenly. He would have done anything to help her, but he didn’t have the knowledge. He was a very poor wizard, and knew only bits and pieces of magic. She needed the support of her sisters, but they weren’t to be found here. Without them, she would be doomed to live a half life. He had heard stories of witches succumbing to madness or even death for want of proper training. The thought of something of the sort happening to Alex was unbearable.
“I got this for you. It was obvious you wanted it.” Alex spilled the contents of Tomas’ packet on the table. “What did you see?”
He rummaged through the pictures until he found the one he wanted and stabbed a finger down, nailing the image of his enemy. “This man. I know this man.” Alex rested a hand upon his shoulder and leaned down beside him. “Mardus is Wallace’s man.”
“From…?”
“My world, yes.”
“But he’s not the killer,” Alex protested. “I don’t recognise his face.”
Douglas picked up the picture and glared at it. “Mardus may not be the killer you seek, but he is one nonetheless. I doubt he has changed his ways since coming here. Believe me, he’s dangerous.”
Alex nodded. “I believe you. How did he get here? He didn’t come with you, did he?”
Douglas frowned. He hadn’t considered that. “No, he wasn’t at the circle of Velkomen. He didn’t come through with me.”
“In that case the question becomes, when did he get here and why did he come? What’s he after?”
“I don’t know.”
Alex abruptly left to enter another room. When she returned, she held some kind of weapon. He had never seen anything like it, but he knew a weapon when he saw one. It had a deadly looking efficiency, and Alex handled it with care.
“I hope you don’t plan on using that thing, whatever it is, on me,” he said trying to see how it might work.
Alex held up the weapon for Douglas’ inspection. “This is a 40 calibre semi-automatic handgun. A friend got it for me. It’s the same as the police use in Los Angeles, and I know how to use it. If this Mardus character comes here intending mischief, he will regret it.”
“A handgun? How does it work?”
“Well, it’s… I guess it’s like a bow?” Alex said, not sounding very sure about the comparison.
Douglas regarded the thing doubtfully. “That’s a bow? It looks nothing like one, not even a crossbow.”
“I said it’s like a bow, not that it was one. Come outside and I’ll show you how it works.”
Douglas followed Alex outside and watched her lean a wooden post against the bales of straw piled up to one side of the stable. She came back to join him, did something with the handgun, and took a bent-kneed stance. She held the weapon in both hands and squeezed the trigger.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Douglas jumped at the sound. Alex did something to her weapon and beckoned him to follow her back to the post.
“There, see? It throws tiny metal arrows called bullets. That’s why I said it’s like a bow.”
He fingered the splintered holes in the post. “Bullets. Like a shepherd boy’s sling.”
“I suppose.” Alex shrugged. “The bullets come out very fast. If I hit Mardus with this, he would most likely have a hole right through him. He definitely won’t like it.”
What a lovely thought, it brightened Douglas’ day just imagining it. “No, I don’t suppose he would. Can I try?”
“Sure. Let me show you how it works.”
Douglas watched intently as Alex removed a part of the gun she called the magazine and showed him the bullets. She quickly reloaded the magazine and replaced it in the gun. She worked the part that she called the slide, and clicked on the safety.
