by Terri Reid
“No, first things first,” he said softly.
Walking to the door to the third floor, he easily unlocked it and softly ascended the stairs. The chains strung through the handles that closed off the ballroom only took a moment to unwind, and Finias carefully laid them on the old carpeting in the hallway. He had just grasped the door handle firmly when he heard the scream. Yanking it open, he watched in shock as the serpent lunged towards Donovan.
“Bacainn!” Donovan cried out, and the serpent smashed against an invisible wall.
Finias ran to Donovan’s side. “Was that for show or are you really on our side?” he asked.
Donovan looked at him in astonishment. “Are you kidding me?” he yelled as the serpent pulled back and hissed at him, venom dripping off his fangs.
“I will kill you, traitor!” the serpent hissed.
Finias looked at the demon and nodded. “Okay, I believe you,” he said. “Now what?”
The serpent attacked again and this time, nearly broke through the wall Donovan had put up. “He’s strong,” Donovan said. “And this wall isn’t going to last forever.”
“How long do we have to fight him?” Finias asked.
Donovan met his eyes and lowered his voice. “Until the Willoughbys have a chance to destroy the amulet,” he said meaningfully.
“You found it?” Finias asked, astonished.
“Just moments before he appeared,” Donovan replied, watching the creature pull back for another attack. “Hazel took it home, so we just have to keep him busy for a while.”
“You will not be able to destroy it,” the creature taunted. “The magic is too strong!”
Finias smiled and nodded. Then he called out, “Gladius mortis.”
Immediately two machete-like swords appeared in his hands. He handed one to Donovan and nodded. “This is how we kill snakes in the forests of my homeland,” he said.
Donovan hefted the sword in his hand, testing its weight, and then sliced it through the air several times. “Nice,” he agreed. “Let’s see how it works on house snakes.”
The serpent lunged again, and this time, the barrier failed. Donovan grabbed the hilt with both hands and brought the sword around, swinging into the side of the creature’s face. Hissing in pain, the serpent tried to retreat, but Finias stepped up and struck it near the base of its skull. Its body whirled and its massive tail swept across the floor, knocking both men off their feet.
Donovan sat up quickly and shook his head. “Forgot about the tail,” he said, jumping to his feet in time to block the serpent’s fangs with the sword. A clang echoed in the room as the steel from the sword hit the ivory of the fang.
Finias got up, a little slower than Donovan, and shook his head. “I did much better in my younger days,” he admitted. He brought the sword up over his shoulder and then brought it down swiftly on the serpent’s tail. Green ooze spilled out from the wound, flooding the floor.
Donovan jumped back and turned to Finias. “Was that planned, or did you think we needed a greater challenge?”
Finias chuckled softly and nodded. “Well, it was two against one.”
The serpent reared back and lunged again. Donovan countered, bringing his sword down across its nose. It retreated to the corner of the room, swirling and hissing, as green ooze seeped from several wounds.
“We need to keep him busy here with us,” Donovan said.
“No problem,” Finias replied, moving forward, his sword poised for attack.
Donovan mirrored Finias’ stance, and they both approached the serpent, intent on doing more damage. Suddenly, the serpent turned away and dove through the opening in the wall. “We attack this day, Donovan! You and the Willoughby witches will die,” the serpent screamed.
“No!” Finias cried, running forward, trying to catch hold of the creature.
“Claude ostium,” Donovan cried, ordering the portal to close.
The opening immediately closed up, leaving the last two feet of the serpent writhing on the floor. Finias stabbed it through, and the tail finally stopped moving.
“Well, the tail’s dead,” Donovan said, wiping the sweat from his brow. “But the rest of the creature is alive and well. I wonder what he’s planning to do now.”
“The moon this morning had a red haze around it,” Finias explained. “Foreshadowing a battle this evening.”
Donovan ran to the window and shook his head. “This is Whitewater,” he said with dread. “We don’t wait until dark for anything.”
Suddenly, the sky darkened, and a black cloud in the shape of a serpent circled the sky. It swirled over the top of the town, its length increasing until it blocked the sun. The wind picked up and whistled through the streets, rattling windows and doors, bending treetops, and churning up dust. Darkness, like the night, enveloped the town.
A sound, carried on the wind, whistled through the room. Donovan felt a chill race down his back. “Do you hear that?” Donovan asked Finias.
“What?” Finias asked, walking over to the window.
They both stood in silence for a moment and then heard the dark whispering that was carried on the wind.
“What is he saying?” Donovan asked.
“The language is old and forbidden,” Finias said. “It is a language of ancient spells and secret combinations. He is calling his followers to come to his side. He wants them to retrieve the amulet. But I don’t understand why it’s so important to him.”
Donovan put his hands on his head, searching his memory for anything that could help. Finally, he remembered and turned to Finias, a look of alarm on his face. “The amulet is what gave him the power to influence the minds of the members of the coven,” Donovan explained. “And once they followed him, he gained more power. Without its influence, his power will recede until Samhain.”
“And he’s not the kind of creature to give up power very easily,” Finias said. “Where do you think they are going?”
“My best guess would be the Willoughbys,” Donovan replied, watching large groups of black-cloaked people coming towards them in every direction. “Here’s your red haze around the moon battle.”
“Can we get through them?” Finias asked.
Although Donovan knew that he could get to the Willoughbys in moments by transporting, he realized that he would be leaving Finias to fend for himself. And, they could use every able body they could get.
“I know some back roads,” Donovan said, deciding to stay with Finias. “We can probably beat this crowd. But…”
“But what?” Finias asked suspiciously.
“Most of those people down there, members of the other covens, still believe that I’m working with the demon,” Donovan explained. “In order to get out of town, you’re going to need to pretend you’re my prisoner.”
“I don’t feel good about that,” Finias said.
Donovan cocked his head toward the window and the crowd filling up the streets. “You got a better idea?” he asked. “One that won’t slow us down?”
Finias sighed. “Fine,” he said. “But use ropes instead of handcuffs, so I can break free and help if needed.”
Donovan nodded. “Deal.”
Chapter Fifty-three
Hazel appeared in the kitchen, still shaking from the encounter.
“Where the hell have you been?” Joseph yelled. “Do you know how worried…”
Hazel’s tears brought him to a complete stop. “Hazel, sweetheart,” he exclaimed, hurrying forward to catch her in his arms. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
“I have it,” she stammered, holding her hand out. “I have the amulet.”
“You have the amulet?” Cat exclaimed, coming into the room with Rowan, Henry, Agnes. “How could you think about doing this by yourself?”
Hazel wiped her tears and took a shaky breath. “I didn’t do it by myself,” she said, defending herself. “Donovan and I did it. We transported.”
Cat was stunned. “Donovan can’t transport,” she countered.
Cat immediately thought of all those times when she’d dreamt he’d been there, comforting her. Could he have actually come to her? Had he watched over her?
She pushed those thoughts to the side. What was important now was their safety. Donovan’s safety. “Where is he now?”
Hazel shook her head. “The serpent…the demon…came through the wall,” she said. “Donovan gave me the amulet and told me to take it here, to destroy it. He said he was just going to distract it while I made it home safely. But he should be here by now.”
Henry stepped forward and held out his hand. “May I see it?” he asked.
Hazel immediately put the amulet in his hand. “What should we do?”
“We need to reverse the spell and then destroy the amulet,” he said. “And the sooner we destroy it, the better chance we all have of winning this fight.”
“Can we destroy it without the witch who cast it?” Rowan asked.
“I have the spell,” Henry said, then he paused and sighed. “Or at least, I have Morris Pratt’s version of the spell.”
“We were there,” Rowan exclaimed. “We heard her offer it, so between what you have and our memories; we should be able to destroy it.”
“Should we destroy it?” Joseph asked.
“What do you mean?” Cat replied. “Of course, we should.”
“Not necessarily,” Joseph countered. “Amulets are powerful magic. Especially amulets that have been around for this long. Why destroy it? Why not alter it for our good?”
“Alter it?” Agnes asked, nodding her head slowly. “That’s an intriguing idea.”
Henry turned toward Agnes. “I don’t understand,” he said.
“Magic isn’t inherently good or evil,” she explained. “It’s just a force. What makes it good or evil is the intent of those who are using it.” She looked around the kitchen quickly, trying to find something to illustrate what she was saying, and her eyes fell upon a cast iron frying pan, hanging next to the stove. “Take my cast iron pan. It can be used to make wonderful food or, if wielded like a weapon, it can create quite a dent in someone’s head. The pan isn’t inherently good or bad; it’s what the user does with it. Does that make sense?”
Henry nodded slowly. “And because this magic is so old and was conjured with power, we’ll be able to transfer that power into something we can use to fight against the demon?”
“If we do it right,” Agnes hedged.
“Ah, there’s always a catch,” Henry nodded. “And how do we do it right?”
“We study the spell, all of it’s elements, and recreate them,” Agnes said, “but substitute good intent for evil.”
“We should also melt it down and reshape it, so the physical is changed as well,” Rowan added. “New purpose, new intent, new look.”
“What do we need to start?” Henry asked.
“First, I need to know if we have any natural connections to the amulet,” Agnes said. “That would make the transfer easier.” She turned to Hazel. “How did you find the amulet?”
“Donovan said that he saw it, in his mind,” she replied. “He didn’t know if it was his memory or something residual from the demon. But he thought he could find it. Then, when we got to the room, he went to the fireplace, and it was like he could feel it. He kept moving his hand on the bricks, closer and closer, until he knew where it was. He reached into the flue, just before the serpent came out of the wall and then he had it in his hand.”
“So, Donovan has a link,” Cat said. “What does that mean?”
“It would be better for the transfer if he were part of the circle,” Agnes said.
“He should have been back already,” Hazel said, her voice thick with worry. “He promised me that he would come as soon as I was safe.”
Just then, Cat’s phone rang. She looked down, and relief swept over her. “It’s Donovan,” she said, accessing the call. “Hello?”
She listened for a moment, her eyes wide with concern, and then nodded. “Okay, we’ll be ready,” she said.
She hung up the phone and looked up at her family and friends. “There’s an army of members of the coven heading our way,” she said. “There was a haze of red around the moon early this morning. The demon is attacking.”
Chapter Fifty-four
Joseph ran over to the window to look out. “How are they coming?” he asked.
“Many of them are just walking, but some have cars,” Cat replied. “Donovan said that he was able to take some of the back roads and get around them. But it will be close.”
“We need to form a circle, now,” Agnes said. “We need every advantage we can get.”
“But Donovan’s not here,” Hazel reminded her. “And he’s the strongest link.”
“Why didn’t he just transport himself here?” Rowan asked.
“I’m guessing it’s because he’s with Ellis,” Henry said. “When we got here, Ellis took my car and headed back to the B&B to try and find the amulet too. He probably got there about the time Hazel arrived here.”
“And he can’t transport himself and Ellis,” Cat agreed. “That makes sense.”
“I can drive Ellis in,” Hazel said. “Switch places with Donovan, so that you can do the circle.”
Agnes paused. “We need you for the circle. Besides, they can’t be too far away,” she said with uncertainty.
Agnes turned to Cat. “Call Donovan and ask him where he is,” she said. “Then tell him what we need to do.”
Joseph moved back to the group. “I’m going up to the attic to get a bird’s eye view of the situation,” he said. “Then we’ll be able to plan on how we can defend the house.”
Cat called Donovan back. “We need you to be here,” she said, “because of your connection to the amulet. And we need you here now.”
“No problem,” Donovan answered. “We’re out in the country now, Ellis can drive the rest of the way without me. I’ll be there in a moment.”
It seemed to Cat that as soon as she disconnected the call, Donovan was standing in the kitchen.
“So, what do we need to do?” he asked.
She stared at him for a long moment. “You never told me that you could transport,” she said.
He looked uncomfortable, and then he shrugged. “I guess it just never came up in our conversations.”
“Donovan did you ever…” she began.
“Good! You’re here,” Agnes interrupted. “We need to get that circle going now.”
Joseph ran down the steps. “We’ve got about ten minutes before the crowd gets here,” he said. “There’s some cars ahead of that.”
He looked at Donovan. “You’re not with Ellis?”
“No, he said that he could drive the rest of the way on his own,” Donovan replied. “Did you see him?”
“Yeah, I saw Henry’s car ahead of the covens,” Joseph replied. “It looks like he’ll be fine because the other cars seem to be waiting for the big crowd.”
“Yeah, those covens are not made up of heroes, just sheep,” Donovan said.
“Even sheep can be dangerous in a stampede,” Joseph reminded him.
Donovan nodded. “You’re right,” he said. “Magic is not our only concern.”
“Joseph and I will see what we can do to make some barriers, so it’s not easy for them to get access to the house,” Henry offered. “You five need to get that circle going now.”
Joseph and Henry ran out the back door toward the barn. “I’m thinking straw bales across the driveway,” Henry suggested.
“Good,” Joseph agreed. “And let’s move any big equipment out, to deter them too.”
With a wave of his arms, Henry opened the large door to the barn loft. Then he turned to Joseph. “I can’t even think straight, let alone create a rhyme. So, how do I get the bales down?” Henry asked.
Sighing, Joseph turned and looked up at the loft.
The barn is red,
The straw is brown,
Move those bales,
Down to the ground.
As soon as Joseph waved his arms, one by one, the large bales of straw slid to the edge of the opening and flew down across the barnyard to the driveway where they began to stack themselves up.
“Really? That was it?” Henry asked, amazed.
“Just let the words flow and don’t think about it, it’s magic, not brain surgery,” Joseph replied with a grin. “Now, you might want to do something with Hazel’s goats, so she’s not worried about them.”
Henry nodded and ran to the small pasture next to the barn. The back pasture wasn’t any safer; the covens had already tried to kill some of her goats back in them, so he needed a place where they would be safely out of the way. He looked up to the nearly empty loft and smiled. “It could work,” he said aloud.
He turned to the goats.
“To protect and disguise
All of Hazel’s herd,
Up you all go,
Just like a bird.”
The goats, bleating nervously, were lifted and levitated to the loft, high above the barn. One by one they soared, touching down gently on the wooden floor and then dashing toward the interior of the building. Once they were all safely inside, Henry waved his arms and closed and locked the loft doors so they couldn’t fall out.
He turned, amazed at the sixteen-foot-high wall of straw, and nodded with satisfaction. They might be outnumbered, but they certainly weren’t going to be out maneuvered.
Chapter Fifty-five
The rug was rolled away, and the Willoughbys were standing in place, with Donovan in the middle. The women at each corner of the quaternary knot cleared the circle with their smudge sticks and cleared the space in between.
With the area protected, Agnes turned to Rowan. “Do you have the spell?” she asked.
Rowan pulled out her phone and opened her photo application. “Yes, Henry sent me the picture he took of the page,” she said, squinting at the old, cursive print. “Should I read it?”
