Azrael's Twins and the Circle of Stone

by Vincent Mortimer

  ‘You did well,’ said a voice from beside her.

  Niamh whipped her head around. Aoife had caught up as Niamh had turned to look for her. The witch’s appearance made Niamh wobble and, as another trailing branch clipped her shoulder, she tumbled from the broomstick into the leaves covering the forest path. She rolled to a stop and spat leaves from her mouth as Aoife slowly drifted back to her.

  ‘You ride well for someone so new to broomsticks,’ said the witch as she dismounted and helped Niamh up, dusting leaves from her shoulders. ‘I thought I would have caught you sooner.’

  ‘I put everything into that,’ said Niamh, the disgust clear in her voice. ‘I can’t believe you caught me that fast!’

  ‘You use your body well on corners but your line into and out of them is wrong. You slow down too much on sharp corners and use too much angle on the less severe corners – they both cost you time and speed.’

  ‘Well I’m sorry,’ said Niamh petulantly. ‘No one ever taught me any of this before.’ She stormed off to retrieve her broomstick which was half buried under leaves at the side of the path.

  ‘So like your mother,’ Aoife said quietly.

  ‘Pardon?’ said Niamh. ‘What about my mother?’

  ‘I said that isn’t a bother. Your mother doesn’t come into this.’

  ‘Oh. Right,’ said Niamh suspiciously.

  ‘I’ve heard your spell casting is impressive. Let’s see a little of what you can do.’

  Aoife turned and pulled out a red wood wand and with a flick of her wrist cast four spinning orbs towards the end of the path ahead of Niamh. They floated into an irregular pattern before Aoife frowned and whipped her wand across the air towards them. They bobbled in the air before lining up perfectly level. The witch turned and smiled a smile at Niamh which could not, to Niamh, have made her seem any more like her mother.

  ‘Let’s see how quickly you can take down those balls. Four shots please, as quick as you can,’ Aoife demanded.

  ‘Can I have a moment to recover?’ said Niamh. ‘That fall hurt.’

  ‘No!’ said Aoife emphatically. ‘You won’t get time in a race so you don’t have time now. Wand out. Do it!’

  Niamh scowled but dropped her broomstick and pulled out her wand. She steadied herself as if she were on the spell casting range but received a stern rebuke from Aoife for her troubles.

  ‘You don’t have time for posing. Four shots now please!’

  Niamh felt her anger rising. Who was this woman to think she could go ordering her around! She turned her attention to the balls and as fast as she could fired a volley of spells at the targets. The first spell missed completely but the next three spells found their marks, the balls bursting into a cascade of sparks that floated gently to the forest floor.

  Niamh turned to Aoife, smiling. But the witch seemed far from happy.

  ‘You’ll have to do better than that come race day.’

  ‘What?’ said Niamh. ‘That’s not bad for a first go!’

  ‘It might be your first go but it will only earn you second place unless you can get all four balls. Let’s try that again.’ She raised her wand and another four balls floated out from it.

  Niamh felt anger wash over her again before another thought took its place. At least someone was teaching her. If her own mother couldn’t take the time then maybe a little ribbing from Aoife would be worth it to avoid losing to that Baskerville girl again. She steadied herself and took aim at the floating orbs one more time …

  ‘Shouldn’t they be back by now?’

  ‘Don’t worry Grady. These woods are Aoife’s, though not many would know it. Nothing will happen to Niamh while she is here.’ Modron stood with her back to Grady as she spoke. Her attention was centred on the pillar at the top of the stone steps.

  ‘What is that?’ Grady said, stepping up beside the crystal troll.

  The creature smiled enigmatically at Grady and sighed. ‘It is a dilemma for me. That’s what it is.’

  Grady gave a nervous laugh. He waited, but no more explanation appeared to be forthcoming.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he asked. ‘What’s the problem?’

  Modron turned her attention back to the small stone pillar before she spoke again. ‘Have you ever had to do something, an obligation, that you cannot know whether what you do will be right or wrong, but you will only know by the doing of the thing?’

  Grady looked confused. ‘What? You mean like a homework assignment for Ms Maladicta? I’d be petrified I’d mess it up with her and I never know whether any of my homework is right or wrong half the time. It’s a miracle I finish any of it with the distractions back at Rookwood.’

  Modron laughed a chiming laugh. ‘No Grady. I mean an obligation that you were born to complete. An obligation that is the reason you exist?’

  ‘I do. I really do. My sister and I get reminders from Mum and Dad all the time. But what is your … obligation?’

  Modron gestured towards the centre of the circle. ‘Why don’t you step into the circle and let me show you?’

  Grady looked uncertainly towards the green carpet of grass covering the circle. It seemed inviting and safe but something made him uneasy.

  ‘Can’t you show me from here?’ he said uncertainly.

  Modron shook her head. ‘The only place in which it will make sense to you is inside that circle,’ she said, pointing. ‘Nothing will happen to you. I promise. But you may see something you like.’

  Grady held Modron’s gaze to see if there was any deception in her eyes. Nothing but honesty radiated from the diamond-like stare.

  ‘What do you think?’ he thought to himself.

  ‘I know what she is,’ came Hep’s reply. ‘And if she is promising no harm then trust her.’

  ‘What do you mean? How do you know what she is?’

  ‘For goodness sake Grady,’ said Hep. It was the first time Grady had heard him sound annoyed. ‘How old am I?’

  ‘Ummm. Ancient?’

  ‘Exactly. So if I have to explain how I know some things again I’m going to start casting bouncing spells around inside this brain of yours and give you such a headache! Trust the troll!’

  ‘Okay! Okay!’ he said defensively. Grady gave Modron a sideways glance as he headed into the centre of the circle. ‘Now what? It’s just a circle.’

  ‘Relax,’ said Modron ominously. She stepped up to the stone pillar and placed her hands on top of the round dome at the top. Her eyes closed and the pillar began to glow faintly from within. The pulsing blue light began to grow and brighten until the pillar was lit from top to bottom. The glow began to creep up Modron’s arms before flowing from her body. When she opened her eyes again the crystal orbs were replaced with pinpoints of intense white light.

  Grady stood transfixed as the glow began. The sky above him began to darken and the forests around the ring began to fade.

  ‘Hey!’ shouted Grady, fear stealing over him. ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘Don’t be worried,’ came Modron’s voice, though her mouth never opened.

  Grady peered around the openings between the stones in the circle. Figures began to appear, though they were indistinct. They made as if to run towards the centre of the circle but before they could, the circle shuddered and, as one, the stones began to slowly revolve. One turn of circle was all it took but the effect was dramatic. The dark sky shimmered and changed to a light blue given depth by lazy wisps of cloud drifting slowly across. A cry rent the air but it was nothing more than a seagull flying overhead. Ahead rose a steep slope that ran in a semicircle around him and was cut through at the top with dark red rock. As he turned to look down the hillside, upon which the circle of stone now stood, a familiar harbour ran away towards a distant headland. The scene could have been at the head of the harbour below the Dragon’s Lair were it not for the road which cut its way up the side of the hill that ran away to his left. The sound of a truck changing down a gear was unmistakable. This was not Avalon. This was home. This
was Avalon’s End.

  Brighid was nervous. Something had happened that she had not experienced in many lifetimes. She had begun to feel uncertain. Rock solid belief in herself, her kind, and her plans, was the foundation of the guardianship she had delivered to Avalon but now the two most important figures in its history had managed to elude her. Worse, two children had managed to elude eons of experience. There was no sign of the children, not a smidgeon of a clue to say where they had gone. That meant having to … explain herself.

  A broomstick appeared in the distance. Brighid knew who it was immediately. Murdock was on his way. He must have sensed something to have left the royal party. She lazily tilted a wing and banked around towards him. It took little time for the two to meet.

  ‘You’ve lost them, haven’t you,’ said the elf calmly.

  Brighid immediately nodded. ‘I would like to think that the children have evaded me, rather than me losing them. It’s a subtle difference but it means a lot to me.’

  ‘I’m not surprised,’ said Murdock. ‘It was only a matter of time. I thought they might have been a bit easier to keep an eye on for longer than this. It’s good they found a wa…’

  ‘Quiet!’ said Brighid, cutting short the elf’s words. ‘Did you feel that?’

  ‘No. Nothing. What was it?’ said Murdock, anxiously scanning the skies.

  ‘I don’t … I don’t know,’ said Brighid. ‘I should, but the memory won’t come to me. It was … it was something that should not be.’

  ‘You’re scaring me now, Brighid,’ said Murdock. ‘Can you say where it came from?’

  ‘Over there,’ said Brighid confidently. ‘From the circle of stone.’

  ‘Surely not,’ said Murdock.

  ‘Surely so,’ said Brighid. ‘Let’s go!’

  Niamh blasted another of the floating balls. As fast as Aoife could muster them, Niamh picked them out of the air, spells ripping from the tip of her wand in a blur.

  Niamh spun one more time towards the place she expected to see the next set of targets. But this time there was nothing. Spots of exploding targets floated behind her eyes as she turned to face Aoife, sweat dripping from her brow.

  ‘Impressive,’ said the witch, nodding appreciatively. ‘I don’t know many that could keep up with you.’

  ‘Many? Or any?’ said Niamh with a devious smile.

  Aoife returned the smile. ‘Myself and one, possibly two others.’

  ‘Who?’ said Niamh.

  ‘Keen to try your hand against them?’

  Niamh nodded. She was still buzzing from the practice.

  ‘Good,’ said Aoife, nodding. ‘Good. Ambition is a good thing. Never let anyone tell you it isn’t.’

  ‘Mum says the best witches and wizards don’t use magic even when they can. That not using it is a bigger skill than using it!’

  Aoife frowned. ‘Yes. I have heard that phrase before myself. Many times. And what do you think when you hear it?’

  ‘That it’s complete rubbish,’ said Niamh, flicking a spell at a leaf that chose that moment to drift into her view. The leaf burst into a short but bright flame and evaporated.

  ‘Hold that anger, Niamh,’ said Aoife with a cunning smile as she put her arm around Niamh’s shoulder. ‘You will need it when…’

  ‘When what?’ said Niamh, looking up.

  Aoife dropped her arm from Niamh’s shoulder and looked away through the forest.

  ‘Quick!’ she said urgently. ‘Back to the circle!’

  Niamh stood looking bewildered as Aoife snatched her broomstick from the tree against which it stood and leapt into the air. The witch did not head through the forest but flew upwards through a gap in the canopy of trees.

  Niamh fumbled her wand back into her sweatshirt and, jumping onto her own broomstick, kicked off from the ground following Aoife into the clear sky beyond. The red witch was already well ahead of her and accelerating towards the shimmering lake in the distance. Niamh leaned low over her broomstick and made after her.

  Grady stood transfixed at the view. He was home! The one place he knew his parents would not take him again was metres away from him. He turned to face Modron.

  ‘Is it real?’

  ‘It’s real,’ said the troll. ‘But I don’t recommend you try and cross the boundary of the stones.’

  ‘Why?’ said Grady, looking longingly at the harbour. The sight of the cars moving along the hillside had stirred a sense of home he had not felt for some time. ‘What would happen if I did try?’

  ‘You would end up in the space between worlds. It’s not a place you would want to stay. If you went outside those stones without the four elements being used to create the spell of connection, you would be stuck there. You could not get home. To any home.’

  Grady looked crestfallen. ‘Do you know the spell?’ he asked.

  Modron shook her head. ‘It’s not a spell we trolls can create. It’s a human spell. This is one of the more amazing places in our world. It’s the only circle of its kind. But it needs humans and trolls to work together. One particular troll in fact.’

  ‘You,’ said Grady as he stared longingly at the view.

  ‘Yes. Me. I can work the stone but you have to work the elements. Without it the portal is just a slab of rock. Powerful rock, but still just rock.’

  ‘Who knows the spell then? Who could teach it to us?’ said Grady, excited. The idea of finding a way home – if he needed it – was too good to pass up.

  Modron shook her head again. ‘There is no one alive now who knows it. The spell is long lost. The last one of your kind who knew the spell died many of your centuries ago.’

  An idea blossomed in Grady’s head. ‘What was the name of the wizard that knew the spell?’

  Modron cocked her head. ‘What makes you think it was a wizard? Did you not consider it might have been a witch?’

  Grady blushed. ‘Sorry. Just assumed … you know.’

  ‘Yes, I can tell you assumed. You are right though – it was a wizard. His name was Azrael. And he took the spell to his grave, though there are rumours he set down the way to cast it in a manuscript that was lost. If it was found again then the portals could be opened. And that would be something, wouldn’t it?’

  Grady had a sense of absolute certainty about the location of the manuscript. A stirring at the back of his mind made it obvious Hep also knew but before he could say anything the circle started to revolve slowly back the way it had come.

  ‘There are others coming,’ said Modron with urgency. ‘Stay where you are while I close the circle.’

  Grady watched with a sense of loss as the view of Avalon’s End faded. He knew his old home was over the ridge to his right. Close but untouchable. The sky faded to black again and the figures appeared at the gaps between the stones. The circle closed much more quickly than it had opened, with the stones seeming to slam back into place with a boom. The sky above Grady brightened again and the warmth of the day flooded over him. He ran to the edge of the circle as Aoife appeared and swept down towards them at a suicidal pace. She braked hard and touched lightly down beside the troll.

  ‘You opened it, didn’t you …’ Aoife’s scowl looked as if it would melt flesh from bone, though it was wasted on the troll.

  ‘No harm done,’ said Modron calmly, as she stepped down from the pillar.

  ‘There are others on the way now!’ shrieked Aoife. ‘Did you not stop to think that …’

  Modron held her hand up. Grady was surprised to see the effect it had on Aoife. The witch immediately bit her tongue but was clearly fuming. She cast an angry glance at Niamh as she touched down a little more sedately beside the others.

  ‘Neither you nor I, nor these two will be here when anyone arrives, as well you know.’

  ‘I’m Grady by the way.’

  Aoife took a deep breath. Composure flooded back into her and the anger left her face, as if a mask had been lifted.

  ‘Of course you are. I am Aoife, but we will have to save our chit
chat for next time.’ The witch turned her attention back to Modron. ‘Yes. You are right. But we should go. Now,’ she said purposefully.

  ‘You’re going?’ said Niamh. ‘But we haven’t finished, have we?’

  Aoife smiled at Niamh. ‘For today. But come back tomorrow. I have some more tricks to teach you and you only have two more days before the race. There is not much time for you to learn what you need to know.’

  ‘Same time?’ said Niamh.

  ‘Yes. Same time,’ said Aoife. ‘Now I must go. I don’t want to meet your … friends. And I would suggest you go too. You will have a hard time explaining me to them.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Niamh as graciously as she could.

  ‘See ya,’ said Grady, waving a hand in a vaguely friendly manner.

  Aoife stood tall and closed her eyes. A mist swirled around her, starting at her feet and enveloping her from top to toe. The mist evaporated and with it Aoife.

  ‘That was cool!’ said Grady in awe.

  ‘How did she do that?’ said Niamh. ‘I’ve never seen anyone do that!’

  ‘There are things she can do that others have forgotten can be done,’ said Modron mysteriously. ‘And in case you weren’t listening to her, there are things you should do now too. You have friends who will be here in seconds. I must also go but I will see you here tomorrow.’

  ‘Thank you Modron,’ said Niamh, reaching out to the troll. She touched Modron’s hand and felt the odd warm glow again.

  ‘You are welcome,’ said the troll. ‘Now stand back.’

  Modron rapidly vanished into the ground again. In seconds there was nothing to show she had ever been there.

  ‘Grady,’ said Niamh. ‘Your invisibility spell – before we get caught!’

  Grady closed his eyes and fumbled for the spell. Beside him Niamh winked out of view. She had cast her spell with ease. ‘Relax,’ came Hep’s voice. ‘If you try to force it you will not find the spell at all.’

  ‘Easy for you to say!’ said Grady as he started to panic.