The Road To Avea

by Lynn Lorenz

  They broke up into pairs and began to practice as Sarah supervised.

  "Sarah, can you show us how you sight your wand?" Gareth called her over to where he stood with several other men. One of them had conjured a small cup and held it in his hand.

  "Of course." She walked over to him.

  The man ran his hand above the cup. It floated off his palm and across the room. Hovering above their heads, it hung in the air. Gareth held out his wand and took aim, holding it below his shoulders and lining up his target. Trained to stand stiffly at attention in the academy, he fired and missed.

  "No, that's not it, Gareth." She shook her head. "Like this. Raise your arm and sight along the length of your wand."

  Sarah stood behind him. Pressing herself against his body for a moment, she reached over to raise his arm to the level of his eyes, her other hand on his trim waist. He looked over his shoulder at her and brought his lips to her ear. "Like this, Sarah?"

  His voice was like velvet, and her body quivered. Blushing, she pulled away, hoping he hadn't felt her reaction. "Clever, Gareth. Now try it." After class, she'd have a word with him about his behavior.

  He aimed correctly and fired, just missing the cup. His second attempt scored a hit. The cup flew across the room and hit the wall, bouncing off, but still floated. Those watching him cheered. A few of the men grinned at Gareth. She suspected their enthusiasm was for his supposed score on Sarah and not just his score on the cup.

  "That's the way to do it. Get back to work, all of you. There are still thirty minutes left in class and everyone needs all the practice he or she can get."

  They turned back to their work, but as Sarah walked around the room checking technique and making comments, she could feel Gareth watching her.

  When their time was up she dismissed the class. "Watkins, stay please."

  The others in the class gave him a variety of looks, from "you're in trouble now" to "you lucky bastard."

  "Aye, Patroller Tallow?" He stood overly close to her, and she could smell his shaving balm. His blue eyes looked into hers.

  Sarah took a step back to gain distance. "I didn't appreciate your behavior, Gareth. In the future, I expect you to keep a professional demeanor while in my class." Sarah used her most commanding tone.

  "And out of class?" He leaned close to her and took her hand.

  For a moment, Sarah looked into his ocean blue eyes. He was very handsome, bold and so sure of himself.

  "There is no out of class, Patroller. I can't possibly fraternize with one of my students." Sarah pulled her hand from his. She'd dug out that old chestnut of a rule, hoping it would be enough to discourage him.

  "We'll see." He gave her a knowing smirk and left the classroom.

  Gareth Watkins was cocky, insolent, charming, handsome, and he knew it. He was nothing like Stefan Bane, who was confident without being obnoxious, polite to a fault, incredibly dedicated and professional, and in his own way, to Sarah, oddly unaware of his good looks.

  When had he become her standard for the measure of a man?

  * * * *

  Standing by the lake at dusk, Sarah watched the clouds and thought about her first week at Avalon. She had met interesting people, gone on her first patrol and solved a case, and had begun teaching her new tactics. She began to lay out her plans for the next set of skills she wanted to teach. Hugging herself against the cold, she realized winter would be here soon.

  "There you are, Sarah." Rolf came down the sloped path from the castle and joined her at the water's edge. The waxing moon was just rising and the stars were not out yet. "I missed you at dinner."

  "I ate in my room." She smiled at him.

  "I was wondering when you'd like to try 'porting again?"

  "Perhaps tomorrow?" She shivered.

  "Are you cold?" He slipped off his jacket before she could speak and wrapped it around her shoulders.

  "Thank you, Rolf." She pulled it around her and inhaled. She could smell his scent in the fabric. It was quite odd, yet familiar. Woodsy, like the leaves on the floor of the forest, but with an underlying musk.

  The silence between them stretched. Rolf looked up at the moon and frowned. She followed his gaze.

  "It'll be a full moon soon, I think," Sarah said.

  "Aye." He sounded angry. White scars across the backs of his fisted hands stood out against his tan skin.

  "I think the full moon is so interesting. They say you can see a rabbit, if you look at it just right, but I never can." She babbled, uncomfortable with the situation she found herself in. She hadn't been alone with a man in the moonlight in years.

  "I hate it."

  The intensity of his voice made her flinch. Taking a deep breath, she wondered if she should make some remark, or wait for him to speak.

  "I'd be careful standing in the moonlight with Inspector Creel, if I were you, Patroller," a velvet voice warned.

  She turned to find Stefan standing behind them, only six feet away.

  The man moved like a cat. How long had he been standing there, listening to them talk?

  Rolf glared at him and clenched his fists. "Go away, Stefan."

  Sarah looked from man to man and wondered what was going on between them? The tension hung thick in the air between them. Over her?

  Stefan didn't move, but stayed where he was and stared at Rolf. "I must talk to you, Rolf." Stefan's voice was soft.

  "If it's about station business, I'm off duty. If it's personal, I don't want to hear it," he said, hunched his shoulders, and turned to look at the lake.

  "You'll hear it." He walked away to stand farther down the shore and turned his back on them.

  * * * *

  With his jaw set, Rolf left Sarah and strode over to Stefan.

  "What do you want? You're interrupting us." Rolf pitched his voice low.

  "Exactly. When are you going to tell her?" Stefan bent over and picked up a few pebbles, weighed one in his hand, and then tossed it out. It skipped three times and sank.

  Rolf was silent. The last thing he wanted to do was tell Sarah about his curse.

  "When it's too late and she's fallen in love with you?" A pebble bounced across the water's surface.

  "No, it's not like that." The thought of seeing the horror in any woman's eyes was too much.

  "Sometimes, loves slips up on us whether we want it to or not." Stefan tossed another pebble and watched it skip.

  "I never knew you were so good at that, Stefan."

  "Years of practice skipping stones." He shrugged.

  "I meant all the talk about love."

  Stefan tossed another pebble. "I know what you meant."

  "What difference does it make? She's not interested in me. Can't you feel it?"

  "I don't feel anything." Stefan tossed another pebble.

  "Sometimes, I wonder if that's true." Rolf looked up at the moon and shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

  Stefan scowled. "If you plan on continuing your attentions, you need to tell her."

  "Tell me what?" Sarah's voice jolted both the men, and they spun around.

  "We were having a private conversation, Patroller." Stefan's voice was angry, but the twist of his mouth said he was embarrassed.

  "About me." Sarah put her hands on her hips and stood there. "Now, tell me what?"

  "Damn it, Stefan." Rolf kicked the dirt.

  "Rolf..." Sarah's voice softened. She went to him and took his arm. "I know we've just met, but I feel we've begun a friendship. Trust me enough to speak honestly."

  * * * *

  Pain shot through Stefan as he watched her touch Rolf so tenderly, but he clenched his fists and bore it. She wasn't for him, that much was obvious. He'd been a fool to entertain any hopes.

  "Sarah"--Rolf closed his eyes and took a deep breath--"I carry a curse."

  "What kind of curse?" Her voice was uncertain.

  "I'm a werewolf, Sarah. Each month during the full moon, I change into a monster." He turned back to stare ou
t over the lake. Silence stretched for long moments. The frogs started their night song and filled the air with their music.

  "That explains your comments about the moon, the way you smell, and those scars on your hands and face," Sarah said.

  Rolf looked surprised.

  "I thought something was odd about you."

  "That is why I mustn't ever..." Rolf looked at his feet.

  "Fall in love?"

  "I couldn't live with myself if I hurt anyone, much less someone I loved." He looked into Sarah's eyes.

  Stefan felt like an outsider in an intimate moment between Sarah and Rolf. Unable to stand anymore, he drifted away.

  "Rolf, it must be a terrible burden to be so afflicted, but take heart. There's someone out there for you. Someone who understands. I know it." She spoke with confidence.

  "Do you think so?" Rolf looked up with hope.

  "I know it."

  Stefan turned away and made for the path. Halfway up, he turned back to see Sarah rise up on her toes and kiss Rolf on the cheek. Beneath the moonlight, wearing Rolf's jacket, and probably speaking of her love for him.

  His fists clenched as he spun around and strode up the hill to the castle.

  Chapter 8

  Rolf stood staring at the map on his office wall. He'd been staring at it for almost thirty minutes, trying to make some sense, looking for a pattern, or anything that might jump out at him.

  "I need a fresh set of eyes."

  He walked to the door, opened it, and strode down the hall and across to Stefan's office. After a quick rap of his knuckles, he heard, "Enter," opened the door and stepped in.

  Stefan sat at his desk, his shirt sleeves rolled up to avoid ink stains, writing a report.

  "Have you got a few moments?" Rolf asked.

  Stefan regarded him, placed his pen in the inkwell and stood. "Of course."

  Together they walked back to Rolf's office. Once inside, Rolf pointed to the large map painted on the wall.

  The district lay spread out before them--the lake and Avea on opposite ends, the roads and lanes that ran between them, Reynolds Grange at the edge of one side and Litton on the edge of another.

  Most of the map was woods, but the boundaries of many small farms and several large estates were marked there also.

  "What are you working on?" Stefan looked at the map.

  "Those rapes." Rolf pointed to four pins with red paper flags attached to them. "Here, here, here, and the last one, here. Four in all and I can't seem to find a damn thing that connects them, other than the victims." He ran a hand through his unruly hair in a frustrated swipe.

  Stefan stood back and regarded the map. "The road to Avea connects them all."

  "Aye. I'm sure that's how he's coming and going, but I can't see much more than that." He shrugged.

  "All were country lasses?"

  "Right. Farm girls."

  "All taken in broad daylight." Stefan bit his lip. "Your man is bold, to say the least."

  "I believe he'd been watching them, perhaps for days in advance, and when he takes them, no one ever sees it. The last girl was in the middle of doing chores. When she didn't return from checking the sheep, the family started looking for her."

  "The same for the others?" Stefan sat on the edge of Rolf's desk and pointed to the red flags.

  "Aye. Look, if I draw a line from each one..." Rolf picked up a pen, waved his hand at it, and began to draw a red line from flag to flag, in a large, uneven circle. "What do you make of that?"

  Stefan squinted at the map. Standing up, he held out his hand for the pen. Rolf gave it to him, and he walked to the map, waved his hand over it and the red lines disappeared.

  "The lines are not connected correctly. Try this." Stefan began to draw lines between the flags, but instead of going in a circle around the flags, his lines crisscrossed the map, from one side to the other, connecting the flags.

  "By the One God." Rolf let out a slow whistle.

  Stefan had drawn four points of a star, the fifth and final point was missing.

  "I'd say our man is planning one more attack." Stefan backed up and sat on the desk.

  "Damn. I'd never have thought of that. It's a dark symbol, isn't it?"

  "Aye." Stefan gave a short nod.

  Rolf paused, considering his options. If he didn't handle this right, it could blow up on him, yet this evil bastard had to be stopped before he attacked another young woman.

  Walking around his desk, he opened a drawer and pulled out a large sheet of paper. Unfolding it, he pinned it to the wall. A series of shapes and runes covered it.

  "What do you make of these?" He turned to Stefan.

  Stefan's eyes moved from one rune to another and he stood slowly to his feet. "Where did these come from?"

  "They were all carved with a blade into the girls, Stefan. It's been in all the reports, just under a classified spell. Need to know and all that. Right now, Thatcher and I are the only ones who know of them. I've been gathering them all on this paper, trying to find some sense, some meaning to them, but frankly, I'm lost."

  "And you think I may know something about them?" Stefan raised an eyebrow.

  Rolf knew he tread on dangerous ground, but he plunged ahead. He wasn't the only one who'd heard the rumors of Stefan's past involvement with the Sorcerer. Of course, those claims had been long ago, early in Stefan's career, but they still surfaced every now and again, like the bloated carcass of a dead fish on a lake.

  "I was hoping perhaps, in your experience, you might have come across them." Rolf tried hard to sound casual.

  Stefan looked at Rolf, his intense eyes boring into Rolf's. He cleared his throat and stepped up to the paper.

  "This, this and this, I know. They are the runes for the Sorcerer, his personal signs. They are supposed to carry great power when used correctly." He'd pointed to a symbol of two snakes, entwined in a stretched circle, another which looked like three parallel thunderbolts, and one that looked like the fangs of a dog.

  "Then they're definitely his markings. Can you tell me anything about the others?" Rolf was careful not to ask how Stefan knew any of this.

  "You've heard the talk, have you? About me?" Stefan leveled his gaze at Rolf. "You wouldn't be asking, if you hadn't."

  "Just talk." Rolf shrugged. "I couldn't care less about your past. I, of all people, can't throw stones. If you know something that can help with this case, please, let me know it."

  Stefan sat down on the desk and motioned for Rolf to close the door and sit down. Rolf settled himself into his chair and waited.

  "I was young, eighteen, and searching. What I was looking for, I'm still not sure. I met a man and fell in with him and a group of others. It was months before I realized the Sorcerer was leading them, through the man I met." He looked down at his hands. "At first, we did all the usual. Drinking, wenching, and fighting with others and amongst ourselves. Dueling with wands. We were a fine band of bravos." He gave a short, bitter laugh. "Then, a little at a time, Marsh, the fellow leading us, began suggesting...things. Most were just skirting the law, and at first we went along, out of sheer boredom, I think.

  "But, one night, we were camped in the woods. Marsh brought a stranger to us, cloaked in black. We could all see he had great power. He spoke to us. I swear, Rolf, it was as if he had enchanted us with his words and the sound of his voice. We were powerless against him." Stefan ran his hands through his hair.

  "That night, he marked each of us with his symbols." He pointed to the paper of runes. "Those symbols."

  "Are you telling me that you carry his mark?" Rolf looked at his fellow inspector in dismay.

  Stefan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Aye. On my shoulder. The twisted snakes," he whispered.

  Rolf ran his hand over his face. "Are you still his?"

  "No. In a way, I never was. But I took the mark. I can't deny that. I can, in truth, deny I did anything against the One God. I left when it became obvious to me that they were on a course to
do horrible and evil feats of majik. I returned to Thatcher and asked to enter the academy." He opened his hands as if to say "you know the rest."

  "I take it no one knows of this except you and Thatcher."

  "And I'd appreciate it if it went no farther." Stefan met Rolf's eyes.

  "I swear it." It was the least Rolf could do, with all he owed Stefan and he did it gladly.

  "Then, if I were you"--Stefan stood and walked to the district map--"I'd concentrate my search efforts for evidence in the woods in the heart of the star. And I'd warn any of the farms in the area of the next point to keep their daughters close to home."

  "My thoughts, too. I'll begin searching the forest and make the rounds of the farms first thing tomorrow."

  Stefan went to the door and opened it. Without a word, he stepped out and closed it behind him.

  Rolf slumped in his chair. It was the longest conversation he'd had with Stefan in years, and in that short amount of time, he'd learned more about his fellow inspector than he'd ever thought possible.

  Next, he realized the enormous weight of the trust Stefan had just placed on him and that he had willingly given Rolf the power to bring him down.

  * * * *

  Sarah opened the letter from Luci Greenwood, laid it on her desk, and read it. Ever since her return to on-world six months ago, Luci, an unusual and talented witch, had been her closest friend.

  Dearest,

  The rooms aren't the same without you. All our friends ask after you. I hope you find what you're looking for, there in the country, among the Avalon Patrol.

  Are you meeting many people? And I do mean men. It should be a ripe hunting ground with all those handsome, young men in uniform coming and going. Have you found one who can heal that wounded heart of yours?

  I am adrift in a sea of suitors, none of whom suit me at all. Mama and Papa send me ultimatums every week to move back to the estate or else. What would I do there? Attend more boring parties where I'll be introduced to more boring sons-of-lords?

  Perhaps, I should join up, like you, to find my match and a purpose for my idle and pointless life. I was trained to do nothing, the proper role for a lady, I suppose, but you know my true nature. It is so wild, and dreads being caged in what Mama calls a "comfortable" marriage.