This Magic Moment

by Susan Squires

  He shook his head. “No. I said I wanted to ask questions about her, but that was…before. Her past doesn’t matter. I know who she is now.”

  Brina nodded with a quiet smile.

  “There is one thing I’d like to ask you, though.”

  Her eyes rose to his.

  “You cast the Tarot.”

  Her gaze sharpened. “Yes. I didn’t for a couple of years when Brian was so bad. But now…well, I thought I’d try to help the family.” She gazed at the deck as though it was a snake—the kind that hypnotizes you.

  “You are very good at it, aren’t you?” This was a knowing lady.

  She looked like she was in pain. “Maybe. Sometimes I hope not.” She surveyed the cards. “It came down from Merlin, you know, like our genes. Drew traced it from Merlin to Italy through traveling monks. That’s why the four suits of the Tarot mimic Merlin’s Talismans: the Sword, the Cup, the Wand, the Pentacle. We know so little about them, though we’ve seen the Sword channel a destructive light. That fits with the meaning of Swords: strength and force, duality. One touch of the Wand incapacitated Brian, which fits with Wands being a natural force. But we don’t even know what the Cup does. Cups represent emotion, but what does that mean in this context? And who knows what happens when the Pentacle is formed? Pentacles are about the physical side of things, and they often require work on our part, practical effort.” She sighed. “Sorry. I got off on a tangent. It’s just that it’s so difficult to know what to do right now.”

  “I know what that feels like.”

  She mustered a kindly smile. It appeared to be difficult. “To answer your question though, yes, I used to be good with the cards and they told the future for me. Now…my powers are diminished since encountering the Wand. Maybe I’m no good any more. I hope so.”

  What did she mean? “I think you are,” Thomas said, trying to imbue her with confidence. “Can you tell me my future?”

  She got a pained expression. “I don’t know…”

  He had to convince her. “I am at a crossroads in my life. I have found Tammy, but she is in danger. I don’t ask you to throw the cards for her. I know that might be too painful. But I am not your family. It would not be so hard to throw the cards for me.”

  He could tell she wanted to protest. The family wanted him to be a part of it, for Tammy’s sake. But he wasn’t, not really, and Brina knew it. She nodded once and shuffled the cards, asked him to pick one.

  He picked the card and turned it over. It was labeled “Strength.”

  “This card isn’t about the strength of the body, though you certainly have that, Thomas.” She sighed. “It’s about strength of character, the ability to rise above your emotions, and all the baser human impulses and desires. It embodies courage and patience. You have those too. It means you’re a worthy man, Thomas.”

  But that had nothing to do with what he wanted to know. He picked another card. A man hung suspended upside down from a tree. It was labeled, “The Hanged Man.” Brina raised her eyes. There was sadness in them. “This card is about sacrifice. It’s the only card based on a mythological figure. In the time of Merlin, the Old Religion still lived. Odin, the Norse god, hung from the World Tree for nine days in order to earn the knowledge of the Runes. The Hanged Man is the card of paradox, for to gain knowledge you do not study what is outside you, but what is within. It requires you to do the opposite of what you think you should to gain what you want. For instance, to admit you are afraid will give you the strength to conquer your fear. Relinquish your desire for control and you are more likely to get what you want. The Hanged Man tells you to stop struggling in order to move forward.”

  He nodded. That was more complex than what he thought the card meant, but…useful.

  He picked again. The Seven of Swords. A man gathered the swords from the ground as if he was stealing them. “Ah,” she said, thinking. “Guile will achieve success where direct use of force will not.”

  Now this was interesting. She looked up at him. “One more?”

  He picked again. The card was called Judgment. Brina shrugged helplessly. “You will reap what you sow without mercy, but also without condemnation. I don’t know how to put these into a narrative for you. I am too confused myself at the moment.” But she did know. He could tell. That meant the outcome was bad. He would reap what he’d sown. That meant his death. The Tarot could predict the future.

  He pushed up from the table. “Thank you.”

  She took his hand. “I have confidence in you and Tammy. Things will work out.”

  He could see in her eyes she didn’t truly believe it. She was trying to be kind. He gave her a smile he hoped said he accepted what she said instead of what she was thinking.

  He turned and left. Mrs. Tremaine didn’t realize how helpful she’d been. Now he needed time to think through all the details. He strode through the living room toward the Bay of Pigs like he had somewhere to go in case anyone saw him. But he wasn’t going anywhere. Yet. He just needed a quiet place.

  He sat at the small table behind the hedge on the little deck where he and Michael had talked. Tammy was his purpose now, the true north to the needle of his compass. He had to protect her and her family because it would destroy her if they died, even if she did not.

  And he was uniquely positioned to do so. The cards had shown him the way. Sacrifice would be necessary. Courage was required. Guile would win through. By doing exactly the opposite of what he thought he should do, he might achieve his purpose.

  So, he was going back to Morgan and the Clan.

  They would shortly arrive at the Tremaine front gate looking for him, no doubt with formidable weapons in hand. The Tremaines would fight the Clan to protect him. They were that good and true. He wasn’t important to them, but they cared about Tammy very much and knew he was important to her, and they cared about people in general—the work they did in the world confirmed that. They wouldn’t want to see him sacrificed. They’d try to stop him.

  So, he couldn’t give them a chance to do so.

  First, he had to neutralize Tammy’s ability to know where he was, at least for a little while. He also had to be sure she couldn’t see though Edgar’s eyes when the Clan was coming, or the Tremaines would be waiting for them and his chance would be gone. As a matter of fact, he had to neutralize Michael’s power to Find, too.

  How? And then he knew. Michael brought Drew her sleeping pills last night to put in some hot cocoa. The little cylindrical container still sat on the bar in the kitchen. Tammy liked hot chocolate. Michael liked Scotch.

  He hoped he would see Tammy again. But he knew it was likely that he wouldn’t. He had already deprived the Clan of the power of virgin blood for their ceremony, though they wouldn’t know that. His blood might be spilled and he’d never see her again. But he could keep them distracted enough that they couldn’t complete the ceremony.

  Burning the place down was a great distraction.

  Even if he stopped the ceremony, he was unlikely to survive after he’d played the spoiler. But that didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was Tammy.

  *

  “Thomas, how sweet,” Tammy said as Thomas appeared with a steaming mug of cocoa in the doorway of the conference room. Michael had gone to get sandwiches.

  “I made it myself,” Thomas said. He looked…wistful.

  She took the mug in both hands and blew on the liquid. “I love hot chocolate.”

  He sat beside her as she took a sip. “I know.”

  “Is anything the matter?” she asked.

  “Oh, you mean aside from the fact that we have to stop the Clan from gaining so much power that they can hold the world for ransom and we don’t even know where they are?”

  Thomas had discovered sarcasm. How delightful. “Well, I guess that’s enough.”

  “I’m just sorry I didn’t know the location of their big building.”

  “I’m glad you came to find me. That took courage, you know.”

  “No, it di
dn’t. There was no choice,” he said simply. “I knew even then that you were more important to me than anyone else in the world.”

  She stood and kissed his lips gently, loving the fire that spread through her loins. “This spying is exhausting. Maybe a quick break and a little bit of…you know…would refresh me.”

  “I was hoping the chocolate would do that.” He nodded toward the cup. “Drink.”

  She grinned. “You’re trying to make me fat.”

  He nodded. His eyes swept over her face as though to memorize every freckle. “I would love you fat, Tammy Tremaine. There would be even more Tammy to hold in my arms. But I cannot hold you in my arms right now. There is too much to do.”

  “You’re right,” she sighed, gulping the chocolate. “It’s just so hard to see how horrible those people are.”

  “Have you seen any more about them looking for me?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No. That’s why I have to get back to it. She’s just sent for Hardwick, and his report will tell us a lot.”

  “Good. Finish your chocolate so I can take the cup to the kitchen.” He looked so…sad.

  She upended the mug. “Stay with me while I try to see them. Your power could help me keep the connection.” Her head began to swim. Wow. She was more tired than she thought.

  “Tammy?” he asked, peering into her eyes. “Are you well?”

  She didn’t know. Her eyelids were getting heavy. Her limbs felt like lead. “Maybe I…”

  “You need a nap, that’s all,” he said, but he sounded so far away.

  “I’m a little dizzy,” she murmured, from within an echo chamber. Her voice sounded tiny and distant as the echoes faded.

  “Let me get you to your room.” He gathered her in his arms as though she were a child.

  “Promise you’ll wake…me in…an hour…” she said. Then it was dark.

  *

  “They’ve got him. I know they do.” Morgan slowly rocked back and forth, eyes closed.

  Jason felt empty inside. How many times had she brought his father back to life, just to punish him? How many times more would she do it? He couldn’t keep the fucker dead with her around. And there was nothing he could do about it. The future stretched out ahead, bleak and all too knowable. Once he’d thought she was his salvation. She could turn the powerless child into a man with power over countless others. But that was wishful thinking. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Only he could heal that child. And he was long past being able to do that.

  “Yeah.” Her enemies had her most precious possession. He sucked in a breath. Well, at least he must try to prevent her next punishment. “I’ll go to the house on the hill above the estate. If I see him there, we can push an all-out attack.”

  She shook her head slowly. “We can’t afford the attention of an attack right now.” She tapped her foot. “Besides, why would I send you? You’ve already failed.”

  And she needed his ability to Cloak to conceal the Compound, of course.

  “Send Duncan. He can watch from the house. If he sees Thomas, he Levitates him out. Give him an escort to protect him if the Tremaines attempt to rescue the boy.”

  “Okay.”

  What would she punish Duncan with if he failed?

  *

  “Poor kid. She’s been out like a light since early afternoon,” Kee muttered as she came into the kitchen. “All that sex must have caught up to her.”

  Michael frowned. “More like all that exercise of her powers. She isn’t used to stretching that particular muscle.”

  “How’s Drew?” Kee asked, concerned.

  They were alone in the kitchen, a rarity. He had poured himself a glass of Scotch. He sighed as he took a gulp. “Not good. I think her power’s on the fritz from the constant use.” He trailed off as Kee went white. He didn’t add, “At least I hope so.”

  “This isn’t looking good for us, is it?” Kee asked, soberly. “The ceremony is tomorrow night and we’re pretty much nowhere unless Luc found the Clan’s compound.”

  Michael shook his head and took another gulp of his drink. “Kemble had him looking for the place where Aleister Crowley died in the desert. God knows why.”

  “Hmm… Well, Crowley was a Magister just like that awful Magnus Pendragon.”

  Michael nodded glumly. “Right. Forgot about him.”

  “I’ll never forget him after what he did to Dev. May he rot in hell.” Michael had never seen ebullient Kee sound so dark and filled with hate.

  “But Pendragon wasn’t Clan.” Michael was having trouble thinking clearly.

  “He got his powers from studies of the ancient arts,” Kee said. “You know, spells and stuff. Maybe that’s where the Clan found out about this ceremony thing.”

  Michael stared at her. “Or maybe Crowley’s death in the desert created special resonance for that place. Kemble might not be as crazy as he seems. I’ll go see how he’s doing.” He tried to shove up from the table and stumbled.

  “Nope. You stay here and rest. What’s a family for but to share the load?”

  The red flowers the size of dinner plates on Kee’s flouncy skirt lost their shape and ran together. He’d better get up to his room. Being up all night last night must have taken its toll.

  *

  Thomas stood quietly in front of the gate in the evening air. He’d been standing there for a while, in full view of the road so they’d see him. Mr. Edwards came by and asked him what he was doing. Thomas was proud of his lies.

  “I’m waiting for friends to pick me up,” he’d said. He’d smiled, even. “I had such a good visit. What a nice family the Tremaines are.”

  Mr. Edwards had nodded. “We could give you a lift.”

  “That’s okay. My friends will take me to the airport.” At the mention of leaving pain lodged in his gut. But he was good at suppressing pain.

  “Well, if you’re sure. You could wait inside. I’ll give you a call when they come.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t want to keep them waiting. Thank you, though.”

  Mr. Edwards gave him the code to the keypad for the little door beside the gate. “We’ve got security cameras on you, so we’ll come running if someone besides your friends tries to get in.” He waved and retreated to his office. Thomas could see other men patrolling the perimeter of the estate, but they didn’t approach him. It was a relief the family had not told the security staff he was anything but a visitor, yet somehow disappointing.

  So now he waited patiently, trying not to think about the task ahead or what he was leaving behind. His heart was full. He knew that as he got farther from Tammy, the pain would get worse. But no one would know. He could thank Brother Theodosius for his stoicism.

  It was almost midnight when a car slowed as it passed the gate. Duncan was in the passenger seat. It stopped a hundred feet past the gate, out of sight of the cameras. He punched the code into the small pad, waved to the security camera and headed for the car.

  “That was easier than I thought it would be,” Duncan said, as he swung open the door to the passenger side of the car.

  Thomas slid in. He was on a path of guile. He didn’t expect to live. But if there were gods, he would have prayed to them that he could make certain Tammy and her family did.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  ‡

  Thomas stepped off the helicopter. The pain had subsided some. As he left The Breakers it felt like a gaping wound in his body opened and his beating heart was removed from his chest. That heart was Tammy. Now all he felt was empty. But he couldn’t think about that now, not if he was going to save her and her family. The helicopter had landed on the hillside outside the Clan compound. The wind from the blades tossed his hair in the cool night of the desert.

  Duncan had said they couldn’t use the hangar on the top floor of the building because it was being used for another purpose. Probably for the ceremony. He glanced into the sky. The comet was still visible almost overhead, though it would shortly fade in the pre-dawn. According to Gr
eta, the Pentacle would form tonight.

  “Come on,” Duncan yelled over the din of the slowing rotors. “Morgan wants you. You’ve got a pile of explaining to do.”

  He had been planning what to say while he waited at the gate. He could do this. Duncan marched him down the hillside and through a hatchway at the edge of the metal expanse of roof, painted brown with gray-green patches to blend into the desert hillside. They descended the metal stairs as if into hell. Appropriate, for if there were a devil, it would be Morgan. He wouldn’t think about how she had fooled him. He wouldn’t think about the hole that Tammy had left in his psyche. He would be enough for his task. He had to be.

  Morgan was waiting for him in her suite. It was luxurious, in contrast to the Spartan accommodations provided in the rest of the compound: rich brocade quilts on a bed in the next room, a table set with crystal and delicate china, a chandelier that gave off a sparkling light. Of course, a woman like Morgan wouldn’t share the trials of her followers. The three Talismans shone from glass cases along one wall. Morgan herself, dressed in a velvet robe that revealed ripe breasts in the neckline, rose from a leather wing chair.

  “What have you got to say for yourself, you little traitor?” Her yellow eyes glowed with malevolence.

  “That you are safe, my mentor, from the Tremaines. They are weak. They don’t even know where we are. Their knowledge of the Talismans is limited. They do not, for instance, know what the Cup is for. You have won, or soon will,” he amended.

  Morgan’s raw malice turned to speculation. “What are you saying?”

  “I had to be certain they were no threat to you. You seemed to fear them so.”

  “I? Afraid of the Tremaines?” she scoffed.

  “You said they were your primary enemies. I wanted to be sure they could not hurt you.”

  “You went as…as a spy? I don’t believe it.”

  “What would you like to know about them?” She would be curious. He was curious too, to see what she would ask. And she would ask.

  Her robe swirled around her as she turned, thinking. Her black hair was rolled into a complicated set of fat curls. Then she spun back around. “Has Brian regained his powers?”