Chalice and Blade

by Alexes Razevich

She placed the nails I’d brought her in a circle around the base. “That’s the best one. Orange for success. The nails help secure it.”

  I liked that idea.

  “Sand is for an easy path,” G-ma said. “Feathers are for swift flight to our goal. The glasses are to see the right path.”

  “And the calendar?”

  “To ensure the magic lasts as long as we need it.”

  I glanced over at Mom. “You already know all this.”

  She shrugged. “I’ve helped with plenty of similar rituals.”

  And yet she hadn’t taught me this kind of magic, so different from what I’d learned from Dee.

  “Well,” G-ma said, “we’ll just have to make up for that lack in Oona’s education—starting now.”

  I didn’t think G-ma had read my thoughts directly. I would have felt her if she’d slipped into my mind. At least I thought I’d have felt her.

  “Oona, dear,” G-ma said, “Light the candles, please.”

  There were matches in a drawer by the sink, but I couldn’t help showing off a bit. I snapped my fingers four times, lighting each candle in turn.

  G-ma clapped her hands at my show, and mom smiled. I felt her pride in me.

  If Mom was proud of me for my little magic trick, why had she worked so hard to keep magic out of my life? People didn’t always make sense. Parents least of all.

  G-ma spread her arms wide on the table top, inviting us to link hands. Mom, with her short arms, had to lean way forward. When we’d joined hands, G-ma started chanting low.

  Chanting, at least, was familiar to me. Dee chanted most of his spells and I mostly chanted mine. But G-ma’s chants were different, not just words said but words nearly sung, her inflections rising and falling.

  My mind nearly emptied and peace flowed through my body. My eyelids started to close. I forced them open to record everything that happened. Mom and G-ma, I saw, had their eyes closed and were swaying slightly with the rhythm of the chant.

  Pale blue smoke rose from each of the four candles, the smoke bending in the windless room, reaching for the smoke from the other flames, converging together over the purple silk square at the table’s center. The four plumes merged, forming one column that rose toward the ceiling. At the top, the column split into three, one third arcing slowly toward each of us, and then spilling over us like a lazy smoke shower.

  The peace and contentment I’d been feeling didn’t change, but new feelings joined them. Competence. Strength. Surety. Mom straightened herself in her chair and I knew she felt the same things I did. I let the feelings sink in and become part of me.

  G-ma stopped chanting and turned Mother’s and my hands loose. I crossed my arms loosely and rubbed my arms, hugging in the feelings.

  “Oona,” G-ma said, “if you’d be so kind as to burn the calendar page and then extinguish the flames.”

  The request snapped me back to reality. The purple candle—for spiritual and psychic power—was closest to me, but it didn’t feel like the source to use. I got up and put a corner of the calendar in the flame of the nail-surrounded orange candle—the one for success. The paper caught immediately. I went back to my seat and held the burning page as long as I could, then dropped it and let it burn out on the small porcelain plate.

  G-ma said, “It is done.”

  I leaned forward to blow out the candle closest to me.

  “Never blow out a candle being used in a spell,” G-ma said sharply, then sent my mother a harsh, accusing glare for not having taught me this most basic of things.

  I drew back and nodded, then wet my fingers and snuffed out the flames.

  Mom didn’t seem the least concerned that her mother had admonished her. She cocked her head, evidently listening to something. “What is that scratching sound?”

  “It’s probably Maurice,” I said, rising. “He’s a magical rat and a friend of mine. His knowledge of the arcane is immense. He’s kindly offered to go with us.”

  Mom raised her eyebrows. Her vibe said she hadn’t realized how far into the magical world I’d stepped and that she wasn’t all that happy I’d evidently invited a rat along on this quest. Maurice had invited himself, but I hadn’t vetoed it.

  “I know a magical goat who’s skilled in potions,” G-ma said cheerfully. “I’m not much one for potion magic. She’s been very helpful a time or two.” G-ma made a shooing motion with her hands. “Go answer the door, Oona. Let’s meet your friend.”

  I went down the hall and let Maurice in.

  “My mother and grandmother are in the kitchen,” I told him.

  Maurice followed me down the hallway back to where my family members were. He scampered up my pant leg and shirt and onto the table as I made introductions.

  Maurice nodded to Mom and G-ma and muttered a quick, “Nice to meet you.” He turned to me. “No breakfast for a hungry rat, Oona? You expect me to go chalice hunting on an empty stomach?”

  G-ma clapped her hands together. “Oh, I like you, Maurice. No mincing words.”

  “I have more animal cookies,” I said.

  Maurice’s whiskers twitched, which I took to mean that animal cookies would do.

  I went to the pantry and fetched the bag. I caught the look on my mother’s face when she realized why I had them—not for me, but for Maurice. I set three on a small plate and put the plate down in front of him.

  Maurice glanced at my mom and grandmother. “If you’ll excuse me.” He set to eating.

  “If you’ll excuse me as well,” I said. “I need to dress.”

  “Well thank God,” G-ma said. “I thought you were going to head off to the darkling lands in shorts, a tank top, and bare feet.”

  I went upstairs and put on what I thought of as my ‘monster hunter’ clothes—black cargo pants (lots of pockets to store things in), black t-shirt, and leather hiking boots. I tied a black, hooded sweatshirt around my waist, in case things got cold. I French braided my hair, to keep it out of my face.

  My heart flapped around like a fish in my chest. Anyone who wasn’t nervous before setting off on a task like this was either stupid or stupider. I hadn’t had many dealings with the fae, mostly with Elgrin and her fairy warriors, and they scared the piss out of me.

  I put my phone in one pocket, my 9 mm Smith & Wesson Shield in another, and extra bullets in still another. I had no idea if bullets would stop anything we might meet, but better to be overly prepared than to regret not bringing it along.

  For my birthday, Dee had given me a SOG Seal Knife 2000 and sheath. What did it say when a man gave you a deadly weapon as a gift and then taught you how to use it? I guessed it said he worried a time might arise when magic alone wouldn’t protect me. I undid the belt I was wearing and put on the sheath.

  I guessed I worried about the same thing since I was taking it and the gun with me. I trusted Dee’s magic with my life but knew nothing about the true magic my mother and grandmother had. Maybe it would be enough. Maybe it wouldn’t. I wasn’t going to take chances.

  Back downstairs in the kitchen, I loaded two more pockets in my cargo pants with bags of trail mix, breakfast bars, and turkey jerky. I filled a canteen with water, undid my belt again and strapped on the canteen. I didn’t need to check in the mirror to know I probably looked like a crazed survivalist. That was fine. I had no idea what we were getting into and it seemed prudent to be well prepared.

  I felt my mom’s eyes boring into my back as I worked. Felt her vibe and heard her thoughts, her recognition that I’d done this sort of thing a time or two and had a pretty firm idea of how to go about it. I felt her mix of anxiety and pride. I guessed being a parent wasn’t the easiest of things.

  “Where am I going to ride?” Maurice asked, his ears twitching. “I can’t walk as fast as you, not over any distance. One of you will need to carry me. I nominate Oona.”

  I bit my lower lip, thinking.

  “Are you sure it’s safe for you to go into the fae lands? Modis said only those with fae blood could enter
and leave again.”

  “Humans with fae blood,” Maurice said. “The peace between the fae and humans is fragile, mostly because humans keep fucking it up. The fae only trust humans who are magical and carry fae blood, believing that the fae side will keep them honest. The rest of us can come and go as we please.”

  “Are the fae honest?” I said. “Always?”

  Maurice laughed, his shoulders shaking in mirth.

  Yeah. Okay. Don’t trust the fae.

  What about Modis? Was it to be trusted?

  I patted one of the big, empty pockets in my cargo pants. “How about you ride in here?”

  Maurice considered. “It’ll do.”

  “Are you ready?” G-ma said, fixing her gaze on me.

  “Yeah.”

  Mom tried to hide her fresh flare of worry over my going, but, you know, psychic— I gave her my best ‘I got this covered’ smile. It didn’t reassure her but there was nothing I could do about that.

  “How will we get there?” Dee had used a potion to transport us into the brume, so it seemed logical to say, “Potion?”

  G-ma shook her head. “We will link hands and then poof!”

  “Poof?”

  G-ma hiked her eyebrows and held out her hands. Mom took hold of one of G-ma’s hands and one of mine. I took G-ma’s other hand to complete the circle.

  My shoulders tensed and I glanced around the kitchen. G-ma chanted spell words, but I swear it sounded like other voices whispered along in the corners of the room. I couldn’t make out the words, the voices were too low, but they were there. The air temperature soared. Within seconds sweat glazed my skin from my scalp to my toes. The room tilted suddenly and the floor dropped away. My stomach lurched. I squeezed my mother and grandmother’s hands tight and stared into the void below my feet until it filled in again—not as my familiar black-and-white kitchen tiles but as fine, slightly reddish dirt.

  Yeah, that was a little more than poof, G-ma.

  Grandmother turned my hand loose first. Mom freed my other hand. I swiveled my head slowly, taking in the darkling land.

  Black and gray hoodoos—those tall, thin rock spires you see in Utah or Cappadocia in Turkey—jutted from the broken land. The air was dry and tasted of dust. A thin creak gurgled in the deep center of a wider, otherwise dry riverbed. The only other sound was the slight hiss of wind blowing across the sand.

  What might have once been another river joined the edge of the dry bed. In the distance, a high mesa rose unexpectedly from the flat land. Five separate hoodoos stood at the mesa’s rim like sentinels.

  G-ma saw where my gaze had focused. “Those are The Watchers. They guard this valley.”

  “Where are the people?” I said, bringing my gaze back to her. “The fae we’ve come to see.”

  G-ma cast her gaze toward the creek. “That used to be a great river. The fae who lived here called that river The Sigh of Souls. The smaller one is called The Mother’s Breast. The locals probably moved when the rivers started drying up.”

  Why had I thought this would be simple and straightforward?

  “Are they nomadic?” I asked. “Do they pack up their yurts and go?”

  “They are fae,” G-ma said, “and it’s hardly yurts. Those who lived here dismantled a city built with magic and likely remanufactured it when they found a better spot.”

  I smoothed my hands over my hair, wondering what now? I glanced toward the distant mesa. Its sheered top was empty.

  The hoodoos—The Watchers—were gone.

  Not gone. On the ground and moving toward us.

  Mom and G-ma were staring at them, too, watching as they slid smoothly as if on rollers, puffs of dust swirling around their bases.

  I swung toward G-ma. “Friendly or unfriendly? Do we shift back to my house?”

  G-ma swallowed. “They’d follow us home. We don’t want to bring them into our world.”

  Chapter 9

  G-ma stepped forward and the Watchers clustered together in front of her. I felt her talking to the Watchers, though I couldn’t hear her or their replies. I slipped into her head to listen.

  We’ve not come to bring harm, G-ma thought to them.

 

  Do you know of the chalice and the blade that binds humans and fairies together in harmony?

 

  The chalice is here, in your lands. We wish only to recover it and ensure peace between the species.

 

  Then you do not mind if we travel your land to find the items?

  The Watcher’s voice went silent in G-ma’s mind. I thought they were conferring among themselves. G-ma’s thoughts spun, thinking through arguments she could make if the Watchers denied us, ways to convince or cajole them.

  The Watcher’s voice returned to her mind.

 

  I wondered how long the day and night were here. There was no reason for them to be the same as on our plane. We could have more time than we thought, or less, and no way to know in advance.

  G-ma nodded. Fair enough. Can you speed us on our task by telling us where the chalice is?

 

  Not human. That was interesting. The thief may or may not be human, but the one who hid the chalice here definitely wasn’t. So what sort of being had brought it here? A fairy that wanted the peace to end? Another kind of fae or being who benefitted if fairies and humans went to war?

  G-ma bowed her head slightly to the Watchers. We thank you for your kindness and hospitality.

 

  The Watchers turned and slid away from us, back toward the mesa.

  G-ma rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. “We have two days to find the chalice and leave the darkling lands. Best we get a move on.”

  Maurice poked his head out of my pocket. “Best you pick the right direction. Go wrong and we could spend two days walking away from the chalice instead of toward it.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I brought these along,” she said.

  G-ma pulled a small blue velvet bag covered with runes in silver thread. She undid the drawstring and poured what looked like a dozen or so small ball bearings into her palm. The tiny beads pulsed with magic, I felt it like a zinging in my bones and saw it as hazy auras of colored light. She muttered a spell over the beads and threw them into the air. They fell like silver hail, bouncing where they hit the ground. The beads started rolling toward one another, forming a line. Two beads rolled to the side at one end, forming a chevron.

  G-ma nodded toward the direction the chevron pointed. “That way.” She bent to pick up the beads and stow them in their bag.

  Mom picked up her pack and headed the way the beads had pointed. She knew her mother’s magic a lot better than I did. If she trusted G-ma’s divination, I would too.

  The land was desolate in all directions, but especially so the way we were headed. Nothing stretched before us but rock-strewn dirt with lone hoodoos poking up here and there as far as I could see.

  “Mind your steps, Oona,” Maurice said. “I don’t need you losing your balance and falling on top of me.”

  I looked down at his rat head peeking from my pocket. “I’ll be careful. Stumbling and turning an ankle or worse isn’t on my list of ‘things I want to do while in the darkling land.’”

  “Good,” he said and tucked himself deep in my pocket.

  We walked maybe a quarter of an hour without talking.

  “Oona,” G-ma said, startling me from my thoughts. “Would you like to learn my direction divination spell?”

  I felt Mom’s prickly vibe before I he
ard her voice.

  “Mother,” Mom said.

  “Katrina,” G-ma managed to put the exact same tone in her voice. “Are you still trying to deny Oona her magic? Here? In the darkling lands where anything might happen and a direction spell could prove not only useful but lifesaving?”

  I threw a glance at my mother. Her lips were pressed together and her eyes were big. I knew that look. It was the one she got just before she either exploded in anger or capitulated.

  I turned my head toward my grandmother. “I’d love to learn the spell.”

  Mom put her hand on my arm. “A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing.”

  I nodded. “But isn’t a lack of knowledge worse?”

  “For Heaven’s sake, Katrina,” G-ma said, “you can’t keep Oona in the dark forever. You can’t keep denying what is hers by birth.”

  Mother was working up a good bit of steam now. I felt it in her vibe as much as I saw it in her face.

  “If you two would kindly let me finish my thought,” she said.

  G-ma and I fell silent.

  “A little knowledge is a dangerous thing,” Mom said again. “Perhaps, after we’ve recovered the chalice, you could spend some time with your grandmother and learn the things I should have taught you but didn’t.”

  It wasn’t unheard of for my mom to admit to a mistake, but it wasn’t all that common either. Mostly, I had to admit, because she didn’t make a lot of mistakes.

  I smiled. “I’d like that.”

  “And perhaps,” Mom said, “we could spend more time together and I could teach you a few things I know that I don’t think even your grandmother does.”

  My smile spread into a grin. “I’d like that, too.”

  “My, my,” G-ma said half under her breath. “Pigs are flying in a frozen Hell today.”

  Mom shot her some side-eye. “It’s a wise woman who’s willing to change her mind based on new evidence.”

  “Indeed,” G-ma said.

  So what was this ‘new evidence’ that had changed my mother’s mind?

  Not that it mattered. My mother and grandmother would teach me their magic. I’d keep learning from Diego. Maybe The Gate would take me on as an apprentice. I was pretty old to be an apprentice, but what did I care? In five or ten years I’d be the same age whether I’d apprenticed or not. I gave Mom a quick shoulder hug.