The Road To Avea

by Lynn Lorenz

  Leaving the castle, she headed down the well-worn path toward the small stone chapel that stood just a short distance away. Behind the building, the woods loomed dark and foreboding, yet Sarah wasn't afraid. The familiar glow of a single candle illuminated a small window at the front of the chapel. The priest who lived there was awake and the chapel was open.

  It only took three short raps on the wooden door before it opened.

  "Good evening." The priest looked at Sarah and nodded. He was young for a man of the order; perhaps about fifty, but his kind demeanor, smooth skinned face and soft brown hair made him look younger. What his build was, she couldn't tell under the plain brown robe he wore.

  "Good evening, Holy One. May I enter to pray?"

  He stepped aside and held the door open for her. "I don't believe I know you, Patroller. However, the faithful are always welcome, day or night." Inquisitive brown eyes watched her as she stepped into the light of the hall.

  Behind him, in a deep alcove in the wall, tiered rows of tapers were lit, some tall, some mere stubs of melted wax, and every length in between, each represented a prayer. Even though a breath of wind rushed in as the door opened, the flames of the enchanted tapers burned strong and bright.

  "My name is Sarah Tallow. I've just been assigned to the castle. I'm the new trainer." She stood in front of the candles. Picking up an unlit taper, she placed it in a holder, waved her hand over it, and the flame burst to life.

  Sarah made the sacred signs and dropped a coin into a small box hung on the wall next to the candle alcove.

  "Say your prayer, Sarah. When you've finished, come to my office." He pointed to an open door down the hall.

  "Of course, Holy One." She nodded to him and then went into the chapel.

  After walking up the aisle that divided the chapel in two, she slid onto a bench and sat down. Raising her eyes to the large crossed silver wands, the symbol of the One God, she began her prayer, "My One God, hear my prayer." Then she dropped her head to her chest, closed her eyes, and prayed to the One God for his protection, his guidance, and his grace.

  When Sarah raised her head again, she looked around. It was a lovely chapel. The dark stained wooden benches were carved beautifully, their backs showed forest scenes, including, of course, bears. Large stained glass windows faced the east to catch the morning sun. Even though the windows weren't illuminated, she could make out their story.

  The Great Sundering. It was legend in their world, unknown off-world, and yet it was a large part of their mutual history. Over two hundred years ago, the single greatest act of majik had been performed by the world's most powerful warlocks and witches to separate the worlds and protect and preserve majik.

  Sarah often imagined what it must have felt like--ripped, unknowing, from your existence and everything you knew in one frightening thunderclap of majik.

  They must have been terrified.

  Just like me when I stepped through the portal and cut myself off from this world.

  Would it have been braver to stay and face her fate than to leave and face the unknown, or had returning been the real act of bravery? She hadn't decided yet. Her past was behind her, both of them. Would she find her destiny here? Even though there was no guarantee she'd find it on-world, Sarah was positive it wasn't off-world.

  Not that her time off-world had been bad, it hadn't. Only later in her life did Sarah realize how courageous Emily had been to take her in to raise her as her own. A frightened child carrying a terrible burden and a deadly secret had come to Emily that cold day. Twenty years later, when Emily died, standing in that child's place was a strong, confident woman sure of the path she had to follow.

  Sarah stood, walked to the candles, and lit one in Emily's memory. She turned away to find the priest's office.

  "Excuse me, Holy One." She stood in his office doorway.

  "Come in, Sarah. You're always welcome here." He gestured her inside and to a chair in front of his desk.

  "Thank you."

  "Is this your first day?"

  "Yes, it is."

  "And has it gone well?"

  Sarah sat back and sighed. "Aye. For the most part."

  "And for the other part?" He leaned back and waited for her to speak.

  "Just settling in. Nerves, I suppose. Being in a new place is daunting."

  "Indeed. If you have any questions, ask them."

  "Thank you." She nodded and rose. Pausing, she bit her lip, trying to decide if she should speak.

  "Sarah, ask and I will answer, if I can."

  Taking a deep breath, she dove in. "Do you know Inspector Bane?"

  "Stefan? Of course." His kind eyes showed nothing but expectation as he waited for her to elaborate.

  "What kind of man is he?"

  The priest regarded her, his head tilted like some curious bird, before he spoke. "Complicated. Devout. Dedicated to the patrol." He looked into her eyes. "He is a man searching."

  "Searching for what?" She returned his intent gaze, her hands clasped tightly as she waited for his answer.

  "Peace." He spread his hands apart.

  Sarah took that in, then held out her hand. "For the candles and your kind words, Holy One." She dropped two gold coins into his open palm.

  "You are most generous, Sarah." His hand closed around them.

  She turned and left. As she walked back to the castle, she pondered the Holy One's answers. From what was Stefan seeking peace? What inner turmoil roiled in his heart and mind?

  That was none of her business. She shouldn't care what the answer was.

  Arriving at the great front doors, she stopped and craned her neck up at them. Stone walls soared over her for three stories, flags flying from its battlements, a castle in every sense of the word.

  Well, where better to start a quest than a castle?

  Now, all she had to do was decide exactly what it was she searched for.

  Chapter 5

  "Boulder, send in that fool." Blackmoor motioned with an elegant wave of his hand to the addler. Boulder bowed and left the office.

  Blackmoor sat back and steepled his fingers, the white lace edge of his shirt cuffs just peeking out from his black velvet jacket. Beneath his calm exterior, he seethed.

  Boulder opened the door and stepped aside.

  "Your Lordship." The man who entered behind the addler twisted his rough woolen cap in his hands.

  Boulder closed the door and stood silent, watching his master.

  "How did he get away this time, Barker?" Blackmoor ground out between his teeth.

  "We had him, sir...dead to rights! Surrounded him, we did. But, he tumbled down the embankment to escape us. We sent Sim down. Then we sent Murphy down. We found Sim dead and Bane gone." The man shifted from one foot to another as he explained. "He captured Murphy, sir." He winced as he spoke.

  "Idiots!" Blackmoor roared. He could see the fear in the man's eyes, the trembling in his legs and smell his sweat.

  "I went to a lot of trouble getting that information, and your lot wasted it." His black eyes turned cold and hard. "I don't like wasting my time or my money."

  "Yes, sir." Sweat beaded on Barker's forehead. "It's just that Bane is...well, he's Bane, sir. I've never seen anyone like him, the way he rode and fought."

  Blackmoor picked up his silver-chased wand, ran it through his fingers, and then pointed it at the man.

  "It's true Stefan Bane is a most formidable adversary and one who has plagued me for a long time. However, that does not excuse you and your men's incompetence. I gift-wrapped him for you." His voice became very still and quiet. The man had come to the end of his usefulness. Blackmoor arched one brow.

  Boulder did a blocking spell and sealed the room.

  "But, sir..." Barker held out his hands in a futile attempt to ward off Blackmoor and looked around him, terror building in his eyes.

  Barker touched his wand at his waist and tried to 'port out. Nothing happened.

  "Trying to leave?" Blackmoor's silky v
oice asked.

  "Please, don't..." His voice broke and he began to shake before the certainty of his death.

  "You've failed me for the last time." Blackmoor's lips pulled back in a smile, icy and without pity.

  Black energy shot from the wand, cutting off Barker's scream, and poured over his body in a dark nimbus. The man's body collapsed to the floor.

  "Get him out of here." Blackmoor waved his hand at the body.

  Boulder stepped forward and both he and the dead man disappeared.

  Lord Hamish Blackmoor brushed some imagined stink from the dead man off his jacket and stretched out his long legs. He waved his hand, his fingers in graceful movements, and a cup and saucer appeared on his desk.

  The delicate porcelain was almost transparent; the spoon that rested on the saucer was fine silver.

  Boulder reappeared, teapot in hand, and placed a linen napkin across his master's lap. He poured the tea and bowed. "I took care of everything, my lord."

  "If only all my minions could be as competent as you, I might get things done the way I want them to be." He sighed.

  "Perhaps the new men were not the best to send, my lord."

  "Perhaps. But they have proved useful in other ways."

  "Indeed." Boulder bowed and took his place near the door.

  Blackmoor eyes narrowed. "By all Hell's demons, I want that bastard Bane dead. But how it's done must be carefully planned." Picking up the cup, he sipped.

  "Get word to our man at Avalon, Boulder. I have need of him again."

  * * * *

  Sarah spent the day exploring the castle, this time without Gustav's guidance. Wandering up and down halls and stairs she'd found there had been quite a lot of the old fortress he hadn't shown her, like the dungeons.

  After going down a set of stairs she discovered behind the main staircase, she found herself in a wide, brightly lit hall. The first door she came to had Inspector Mercy Loch's name etched in the frosted glass panel.

  This was where the inspector's offices were. That meant Bane's office was down here and her training room next to it. Standing in the hall, she deliberated whether to continue or turn around and go back up. Why was she afraid to see him? If yesterday had been any indicator, he wasn't interested in her; in fact, he had even doubted why she was here. His blatant refusal to train her had left her reeling.

  He confused her and made her unsure of herself. Inspector Stefan Bane was a man to stay far away from.

  She turned around, ready to climb the stairs, when the door opened.

  "Sarah, are you looking for someone?" Inspector Mercy Loch stood in the doorway to her office.

  "Actually, I was just getting the lay of the land." Sarah laughed, relieved it was Inspector Loch.

  "Well, now that you're here, come in. I'd like to speak with you." Mercy stepped back to let Sarah enter. "Have a seat, dear."

  Sarah sat in one of the chairs in front of a plain wooden desk as Mercy slipped into her chair.

  "How's it going?" Mercy asked.

  "Well enough, I suppose." Sarah shrugged.

  "That doesn't sound like a resounding 'Great!'" Mercy laughed. "Don't tell me you're having regrets about coming here?" The woman's eyes bore into hers as she leaned forward.

  "No, not at all. It's just..." She bit her lip and waved her hand in the air. "Everything. And nothing. I suppose it's just getting used to being here."

  "At the castle?"

  "No, here. On-world." Sarah sighed. "I'm guessing you know that I've lived most of my life off-world. I've really only been back for about six months. I feel like a fish out of water, scrambling hard to catch up."

  "Right. Your majik, or lack thereof. Well, I'd suggest you find a tutor, someone to bring you up to speed with the basics."

  "I was doing that. My roommate, Luci, had been helping me with some of the easy spells, lighting fires, summoning things, that sort of thing. It's the more complex spells I'm having problems with."

  Mercy sat back. "It will just take time, dear. I'm afraid I can't promise you when, but I'm sure it will be sooner rather than later."

  "And another thing." Now that Sarah was talking, she found herself unable to stop. Mercy's open expression and true concern seemed to encourage her to continue. "Chief Inspector Thatcher has assigned Inspector Bane to train me."

  "And that's bad?" Mercy's eyes seemed to light up.

  "Of course it's bad. Have you seen him?" Sarah sat forward, then sighed. "Of course you have. He's quite intimidating. And he made it very clear he doesn't want to be saddled with me."

  "Aye, Stefan can be quite intense." Mercy nodded. "He's a very driven man, Sarah. The Avalon Patrol is everything to him."

  "So, he doesn't..." Sarah searched for some way to ask about the man, but faded out. "He isn't...involved?"

  "No, there's no one in his life, Sarah. He hasn't let anyone in. Ever." Her gaze held Sarah's.

  "Oh, I can understand that, in a way. I've always been committed to my work also."

  "So, you had no time for a husband or wanted children?"

  "I didn't say that exactly." Sarah's hands gripped the arm of the chair.

  "What did you say exactly?" Mercy pressed.

  "My trust in men doesn't come easy, Inspector. Very few men have earned it."

  "You've been hurt."

  Sarah nodded. "I'm determined not to let that happen ever again."

  Mercy sat back and folded her hands in her lap. "That can be a very lonely life, Sarah. No one to care for and no children to love."

  "You're not married," Sarah replied.

  "I was. We were both in the patrol. He died, and I stayed in the service. I have two sons, both grown, who I hope will someday soon make me a grandmother." The older woman's kind voice reached out to Sarah.

  "Oh. But you're alone now?"

  "I didn't say that exactly." Mercy grinned.

  "What did you say exactly?" Sarah laughed.

  "That even at my age there is love, Sarah. Don't run from it. If you find it, embrace it."

  "What if I don't want it to embrace me?" She lowered her voice. "What if I don't want to get hurt again?"

  Mercy shrugged. "What is life without a little risk?"

  "A little risk is one thing; being foolish and risking everything is another." Sarah rose. "I really should be going, Inspector Loch. Thank you for your time."

  "You're welcome, Sarah. And do try to find someone to tutor you. Perhaps Rolf?"

  "Inspector Creel?" Sarah paused in the door.

  "Aye. He's a wonderful teacher and a very nice man."

  "I'll think about it, Inspector." Sarah gave her a nod and closed the door behind her.

  She headed back to the stairs and took her time as she made her way back to her room. It would be time for dinner in a few hours and she needed to decide whether she would go or not.

  Perhaps she should eat at the late mess, the one at midnight, or not at all.

  As she reached her room and opened the door, she realized she was only putting off the inevitable. Besides, she'd never run away from a challenge before and she wasn't about to start now.

  "Tandy!"

  "Aye, miss." Tandy appeared.

  "I want you to fix my hair tonight. Something not too fancy, but becoming." Sarah sat at the dressing table and looked in the mirror.

  "Oh aye, miss! I have just the thing."

  * * * *

  Sarah walked down the hall. Dinner had been uneventful. Neither Bane nor Creel had been there, and she'd sat with Niles, Sybil, and someone else at Thatcher's table. Mercy hadn't shown up either.

  Between Niles staring like a love-struck puppy at Sybil, Sybil glaring back at Niles, and the poor patroller caught between them, nothing had happened.

  Just as well. Sarah entered her room and sat in the chair in front of the fireplace.

  "Well, what did you want to happen?" she said aloud. She turned and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was pulled up on the sides to fall down her back. It accent
ed her eyes, Tandy had told her. "Fool. You primped. For him."

  She rolled her eyes and pulled the pins from her hair. "Never again."

  * * * *

  Inspector Rolf Creel sat alone at one of the long tables in the mess for the midnight meal. The other late-night diners sat at other tables, talking quietly.

  Sitting hunched over his platter, Rolf tore meat from the chicken thigh with his fingers, popped the piece into his mouth, chewed, licked his fingers, swallowed, and washed it down with a swig from his tankard of water. A pitcher of water, condensation beading on its pewter surface, sat on the table within arms' reach.

  He'd spent the entire afternoon and evening investigating the kidnapping and rape of a local girl and still had to write his report. It was going to be a very long night.

  Hearing loud footsteps approach the table, Rolf looked up. "What brings you to midnight mess, Chief?" he asked between bites.

  "You. I just got word you'd arrived. What happened?" Thatcher sat across the table from Rolf.

  One of the serving addlers quickly brought the chief a goblet and poured a small splash of wine. Lifting the pitcher, Thatcher added water until the chalice was half-full.

  "Bad business, sir." Rolf shook his head. "The young girl was horribly mistreated, like the others. The man her family captured was a stranger, claimed to be just passing through. They pulled him from his horse." He gave Thatcher a look that said, You know what that means.

  "How badly was he beaten?"

  "Not too badly. Our patroller on the scene stopped them." He gave a short laugh.

  "And the girl, did she identify him?" There was hope in Thatcher's voice.

  "The One God's hell, Chief, she was like the others. Couldn't remember a damn thing! Didn't know why her clothes were torn and bloody, how she got hurt, how she got to the woods, or where she'd been for over half a day!" Rolf's voice rose with vehemence. A few heads turned in his direction, and he lowered his voice.

  "Half a day?" Damon shook his head. "Her injuries?"

  "The same as the others. Raped. He marked her breasts and belly with those same dark runes. I saw them myself and made notes. It's dark majik, and no mistaking that, but I have no idea what they mean. There were bruises on her wrists and ankles from the bindings. She was found staggering down the road trying to find her way home." Rolf didn't bother to hide the fury in his voice.