Destiny's Magick

by Rae Morgan

  “Why, my granddaughter had the good sense to get herself with child,” she replied. “Not only does Drake have Rhea's powers, but also those of his seed. It will be enough to damage Bettencourt's plan to overwhelm Drake and his coven with might. But Rhea's presence is needed to avoid trickery taking the day.”

  Rhea covered her stomach with her hands. A child? She and Drake were going to be parents. A feeling of empowerment flowed through her at the thought of their child.

  “Okay, so we have more power than we'd thought, but how can I aid against Bettencourt's trickery? I had Drake's help before. No one has taught me how to go to the astral plane.”

  Elspeth put her book aside and floated to Rhea, then settled until she stood toe-to-toe. “You've always had the ability. You'll have to learn as you go. I'll help. I'm sure these shapeshifters will also.”

  Rhea sensed the twins’ assent. But something still troubled her. Something her gut had been trying to tell her since she'd vowed to be at the battle site. “I have to face off with him, don't I?”

  “Yes, my child, you do. You and only you can defeat him. Bettencourt's false hubris will not allow him to fear a woman. It will be his downfall. However, your fight has to happen on the astral plane.” Her grandmother's ephemeral arms enfolded her with a light warmth. “You'll have to be sneaky, ruthless and not show yourself until absolutely necessary. Surprise and knowledge will overcome his warped power.”

  “How close do I need to be to take him on the astral plane?”

  “Within the park itself, I'm afraid. But not close enough to touch him,” her grandmother reassured. “The shapeshifters will protect your physical presence while you do battle. I shall remain here where my magick is at its strongest and be with you in your mind in case you need my assistance.” Elspeth caressed her face with a wispy hand.

  Rhea let out the breath she'd been holding with a gusty sigh. “Let's do it.”

  * * * *

  The skies over the Lincoln Park Zoo flashed with lightning colored in many shades-the golden-red-white of the Coven of the Wolf and the ochre-swamp tones of Bettencourt and his followers. The winds created by the abnormally large amounts of power generated by the witch battle whistled through the cages of the animals and around corners of buildings. The animals themselves roared, hissed, and howled at the goings on, powerless to do anything about it, trapped in cages, unable to flee from the perceived dangers.

  Drake, not wishing to harm the innocent creatures, directed some of his followers to throw up wards of protection around the animals. So far, the wards had held, but he wasn't sure they would for much longer.

  With an almost careless gesture, he poured more of his and Rhea's powers through his spell to contain Bettencourt and his followers in the small amphitheater from where they'd launched their attack. As with the protective enclosures for the zoo creatures, so far it held the physical bodies of the enemy in place. Drake wanted the battle to end here, for once and for all. He didn't want anyone to escape the outcome and have to chase them all over Chicago, possibly endangering non-witches.

  In one of the small outbuildings, his people had found the zoo guards and some other personnel in the same kind of spell that had threatened Keir. Several of the elders were left to guard them and attempt to undo the harm before it cost the unfortunate victims their lives. He almost regretted leaving Rhea behind. Her ability to counter-attack the strangling spell would have come in handy. Hopefully, what she'd taught the elders earlier that day would be enough.

  “Drake?” Keir's voice broke through his wandering thoughts. “We've got them contained, but what are we going to do with them? We're using all our power in warding and holding.”

  Drake continued to supplement his coven's spell of containment as he turned toward Keir. Two days ago he couldn't have poured this much power through and still managed to multi-task. It awed him. The purity and strength of Rhea's power made all the difference. And within the last few minutes, it had even grown stronger, if that was possible. As if there was a third source of power.

  A third being? Could it be? Drake sought and linked with Rhea.

  "Rhea? My own?"

  "Drake? Are you all right?"

  He sensed a slight hesitancy in her response, but put it up to her fear for him.

  "Yes." He poured reassuring images through the link, showing her the battle was fairly contained and at a stalemate. Then, he blurted out the question beating upon his conscious and distracting him from the battle. "Are you pregnant?"

  "Yes. How did you know? I just realized it myself."

  "I felt a third source of power added to ours."

  "The power of three, my grandmother said.”

  "Your grandmother? Where are you?"

  The connection was cut off-from Rhea's end.

  "Rhea!" He battered her shields, but could not penetrate them. But he knew in his soul, she was not where he'd left her. She was near. Damn.

  “Drake!” Keir tugged on his sleeve. He dragged his attention away from Rhea's whereabouts to look at his cousin.

  “What?”

  “The elders throwing up the wards on the east side of the theater say that Bettencourt is breaking through. We aren't going to be able to hold them while we figure out how to shut down their magick.”

  “Damn it all to Hades.” Drake ran toward the trouble spot. A malevolent wind opposed his passage, as if to keep him from reaching his men. Shouts of rage and pain reached his ears before he could get to his people. Reaching for more power, he found it and threw it against the energy attempting to break through the protective wall.

  The wall held. The witches’ weaving the counter-measure sighed with a relief he felt all the way to his soul.

  He had to do something. He had to confront Bettencourt himself, allow his followers to contain the chaos magician's followers with their own power. If he could defeat Bettencourt, the others would fall. He just knew it.

  “I'm going in after Warrick.”

  “I'll go with you,” Keir said. “You'll need someone to cover your back.”

  Drake turned to look at his cousin and shook his head. “No, I need you out here, directing the others and keeping the wards in place. No one must be allowed to leave.”

  “At all costs?”

  Going against everything he believed in, had been taught, he assented. “At all costs. Contain them however you can. Stop them however you will.”

  Keir's solemn expression told him his cousin would order and wield the last resort of a magician, lethal force, if necessary.

  Drake turned and walked toward the building. Moving through his coven's protective wards as if they did not exist, he sent the door to the building off its hinges with a wave of his hand. Stepping into the theater lobby, he sought the enemy within.

  * * * *

  “He's going to face Bettencourt alone.” Rhea stood on a slight rise overlooking the area of the zoo where the battle took place. “I have to be there. Now.”

  “Transport, then,” Boris said.

  “How?”

  “Visualize where you want to go, rotate in a counter-clockwise motion and as you increase your speed, and put the directions in the form of an incantation.”

  “Yeah, right,” muttered Rhea. “Easy for you to say.”

  Rhea closed her eyes and visualized the entry to the amphitheater. Then slowly, she began to rotate. As she increased her speed, she chanted over and over, “Mother of the Earth, release me from your hold. Winds of the sky, take me on your wings. Deliver me to the entry way.”

  Time stood still as around her a vortex of blue and green energy threatened to engulf her, then suddenly she found herself in front of the theater-slightly dizzy, but none the worse for the wear. As she started to enter the building, Elspeth's voice stopped her.

  "Do not show yourself to Drake or the evil one. Do your magick from the back of the theater."

  "Why?"

  "Women must use their wiles to win over evil. Fight subterfuge with subterfuge.
Bettencourt can only win over the power of three by trickery. Be patient and vigilant. You'll know when to make your move."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes."

  “Damn, I wish everyone wasn't so confident that I'll know what and when to do something,” muttered Rhea, as she envisioned a cloak of invisibility like the one Elspeth had used to protect them from Yorrick.

  In the lobby, Bettencourt's followers worked to break out of the protection wards set up around the perimeter by Drake and his witches. She'd moved through the protective wall easily; it had brushed against her like a living thing, and her passage had rustled like the wind through tall grass. Those trying to get out were having a harder time. Frantic cries of “we're trapped” and “we can't get out” echoed throughout the cavernous entry.

  Confident that she was not needed to stop the evil magicians from escaping, she moved farther into the theater to find Bettencourt. Where he was, Drake would be.

  Passing through the lobby she entered the main theater through a set of side doors. Closing her eyes so that they could adjust to the darkness, Rhea sought the sounds of a confrontation. Either she was alone in this room, or this was the quietest battle on record.

  Upon opening her eyes, she saw Drake and Bettencourt standing center stage and facing one another. Neither moved. Both had their arms outstretched toward the other. Between them was a column of pulsing lights made up of all the colors of heaven and earth.

  Damn! They were trying to blast one another to death! Men!

  Rhea sought Elspeth.

  "Grandmother. Can you see what they are doing?"

  "Yes, my child. Typical male witch macho. A throwback to the Dark Ages mentality."

  "What should I do? How can I help Drake?"

  "Go to the astral plane. If Bettencourt is going to beat Drake, he will try to attack him on that plane-as he did his own brother, Keir. By now, Warrick Bettencourt has realized that he can't beat Drake in a show of sheer power."

  Fine. Great. Astral plane. Well, she'd managed to transport and cloak by herself; she should be able to do this. Concentrating on the feelings she recalled from her previous journeys to the ethereal plane, Rhea soon felt the tingling at the top her spine that signified the separation from her physical self.

  Yes! She was on the plane. Floating above the rows of seats, she glided at an oblique angle toward the two men on the stage. Just as she hit the sixth row from the front, she stopped. Bettencourt was moving on the astral plane toward Drake. She hoped she was close enough to stop Bettencourt when he made his move.

  The sensation was weird. With her eyes she watched the real-time stand-off of power. In her mind's eye, Drake stood still as if he was unconscious of Bettencourt's movement on the astral plane.

  Bettencourt would make his move soon. His aura on the plane was dark, opaque. She swore she smelled decay and something familiar that she couldn't quite place. Whatever it was, it was foul and she became nauseated. How could Drake not smell Bettencourt's approach? Had Betsy been correct when she'd stated that male witches could not smell danger?

  Forcing away the urge to let down her shields and link to Drake to warn him, Rhea watched and waited for Bettencourt to make his move. What that might be? How she might stop him? She didn't know. She had to trust that she would do the right thing to save the man she loved more than life itself.

  Covering her womb with one hand, she stroked the area where the small life even now multiplied and grew stronger. The proof of the love she and Drake shared. This child would know its father. That she promised herself.

  The move when it came was slight. A mere gesture of a finger from Bettencourt. The snake-like filament of energy, its gray-brown essence and foul smell, was very familiar. Bettencourt wanted to smother Drake in a tangle of death just as Yorrick had tried with Keir.

  As Elspeth had warned, Rhea had to move cautiously and with stealth. She had to attack Bettencourt while he worked his evil, eliminating him first, then she could rescue Drake from the evil web. Now that she had a plan, timing would be everything.

  As Bettencourt entrapped an unsuspecting Drake, Rhea moved ever closer to the evil magician. To stop him, she would have to kill him. She had to do it to save Drake. Even now she could feel Drake's life essence weaken as he drew less and less of her power. The column of energy between the two physical bodies had lessened as the snare around Drake increased.

  Just as the column of energy disappeared, Rhea opened the shields blocking the link between Drake and her. She gathered the power of three-Drake's waning power, her pure power, and the power of infinite potential from their child.

  "Drake. He's attacking you on the astral plane. Stop fighting him and hold on."

  "Rhea? Go back. I'm not strong enough to hold him any longer."

  "But we are. Trust us-our child will help me."

  Rhea roared as she let loose the powers she'd gathered. The stream of energy pulsated as it entered Bettencourt's body. His projected self turned on the astral plane, a look of shock and disbelief crossed his face. Then, he was no more. Neither on the astral plane nor the real. One minute he was there and then poof-nothing.

  Rhea looked at her hands with awe-and shock. She had killed a living being with nothing more than a deep thought and her essence. Sickened by the taking of a life, even a wretched one like Bettencourt's, she shuddered.

  Pushing her revulsion aside, she turned toward Drake. He lay on the ground. Still and barely breathing.

  "Rhea? Help me, my own."

  His mind still linked to her, but the connection grew weaker.

  "Drake! Hold on."

  Rushing to Drake's still body, she gathered him onto her lap. Stroking his hair, she allowed her astral body to do the work.

  As with Keir, she studied the tangled threads. She rejected many of them, seeking the right one, the one that would unravel the chaotic web of energy smothering her love.

  There. She'd found it. A gray-blue strand, hiding at the bottom. She grabbed it and pulled. When it snagged, she felt the life in her womb add its power to hers. As before, she unraveled the pile until she sensed that Drake's body could handle the rest. Some sense told her that neither Drake nor Keir could ever be attacked this way again if she allowed their bodies to fight off the remainder of the spell. Like a virus, they were now immune to the threat.

  Holding Drake, she reached outside the theater with her senses and knew that the battle in the Park was over. With their leader's spirit gone and the power behind them vanquished, his minions caved in.

  The doors to the theater opened with a resounding crash as Keir and several of the elders ran down the aisle. Boris and Igor in their wolfhound form beat the witches to the stage, shifted into human form, and took up guard duty, in all their naked splendor, over Rhea and Drake.

  “Rhea?” Keir called out. “Is he ... is Drake okay?”

  “He's fine,” she reassured him and the others. “Bettencourt attacked his astral body just like Yorrick had yours. I killed Bettencourt, then untangled Drake. He's just exhausted.”

  * * * *

  Drake sensed the other people around him, but was acutely aware of Rhea. He took a deep breath, then sighed and opened his eyes. All he saw was her love shining down on him, enveloping him with her tender protection.

  “I love you, my own. Mother of my child.”

  “And I love you, my darling. Father of my child.” Rhea leaned over and kissed him on the lips. “Do you want to go home now?”

  “With you? Always.”

  The End

  About The Author

  Rae Morgan is the pen name for a multi-published author of suspense/thrillers. She's been married to the love of her life for far longer than she cares to remember. Her home is in Central Indiana.

  Visit Rae's website at: http://home.att.net/~raemorgan

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  Visit http://www.atlanticbridge.net for information on additional titles by this and other authors.

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  Rae Morgan, Destiny's Magick