by John Conroe
“So let us begin. First I’ll be talking to the Powers that be a bit. Then Declan will light the fires and it’ll be off ta the races it will. Once I start, I canna stop the spell or it will fail. Nuthing must interfere. Chris, you and Tanya canna leave the circle once we’ve begun, do you understand?”
They both nodded.
“Darci, Levi, I need you two to watch over the Ritual Space, provide overwatch as ye might say. Caeco, Rory, Abigail, please help them as they direct. Okay?”
Everyone nodded. Levi even went to the back door and grabbed a rectangular black case that looked like it might hold some type of instrument. He set it down and took up position nearby.
With one last look around, my aunt began, speaking in Irish.
“Danu, Gach-Máthair. Cuir chloisteáil na focail seo, le do thoil treoir ar na lámha, do thoil go díreach an croí.
Dagda, Gach-Athair. Cuir dheonú an eagna amháin, le do thoil déan cinnte an t-eolas, smacht na céimeanna seo.
Áine, le do thoil éisteacht lenár pléadáil le haghaidh cosanta. Cuir dheonú ar an settings na amulets do chumhacht i retribution agus retaliation.
Lugh, Fada bhuailteoir, le do thoil tabhair dúinn beart de do cruinneas agus aidhm deadly ionas go bhféadfadh sé seo seal stailc díreach mar ar intinn again.”
I can’t speak it as well as I would like, but I understand it well enough. I translated in my head as she spoke.
“Danu, All-Mother. Please hear these words, please guide these hands, please direct this heart.
Dagda, All-Father. Please grant this one wisdom, please make certain of this knowledge, discipline these steps.
Aine, please hear our plea for protection. Please grant the bearer of these amulets your power in retribution and retaliation.
Lugh, Long Striker, please grant us a measure of your accuracy and deadly aim so that this spell might strike exactly as we intend.”
We typically call on one or more of the pantheon of Irish deities during a ritual. Four was unusual. Danu and Dagda were sort of the parent figures in my aunt’s eyes, and she often sought their guidance and blessing.
Aine was also a common name from my aunt’s lips. She holds dominion over crops and fertility, often besought by both men and women to grant them fertility and prosperity, but she also has a dark side. The mythology holds that Aine was raped and was able to gain her revenge over her attacker. She has little pity for men who abuse women. I think she’s Aunt Ashling’s favorite.
Lugh was a master of skills, the Patron god of blacksmiths and craftsmen. My aunt sought his help with complex spells that required precision. His magic spear would never miss and was so bloodthirsty, it would often seek battle without him.
Her opening act complete, my aunt turned her head to me and nodded. I focused my thoughts on the hardwood under each bonfire pile, specifically the one piece of white birch I had placed at the bottom of each. Easy to hold a mental image of, they served as targets for the Fire energy that I had been quietly gathering while my aunt spoke. At her second nod, I released it and flames sprang up from the base of each pyre. I held my will focused on them until each was fully involved, then cut that connection and began to gather Earth power in a steady stream and direct it smoothly to my aunt.
She took a short, sharp breath as my energy reached her, then began to mold the power to her will. Receiving power from another witch is a bit of a shock, like suddenly cold water in the shower. Aunt Ash says mine is like getting a big bucket of ice water down the back.
She began to speak, Irish again, but this time too quietly for me to hear—which was, I think, by design. She moved to the deerskin and held both hands palms down over the amulets and began her work.
Unable to hear the spell, and unable to see what she did as her back blocked my vision, I simply concentrated on feeding her power, falling into the mental rhythm of what was, for me, a basic exercise in the Craft. I lost track of time for a while, but Caeco’s sudden hiss of breath caught my attention. The crescent moon was much higher now, its light combining with the firelight to show me what Caeco was intently staring at across the field.
Standing in the treeline on the uphill side of the property were figures—people, motionless, on the perimeter of our property. Everyone else was also staring intently at the watchers in the wood, and Levi unzipped his black bag, pulling out his shorty AR-15. At the sound of a round being chambered, my aunt shook her head. Darci stepped over to him, whispering in his ear. The blast of the rifle would be too loud to maintain the spell she was crafting, the disruption too great.
That message delivered, Darci started toward the newcomers, striding confidently across the grass and after a moment, so did Levi, still holding his rifle. A third figure joined them, Caeco with my axe in hand, gliding with athletic grace across the uneven ground.
I wanted to go with them, to use my abilities, but my aunt caught and held my gaze with her blue eyes, still chanting her spell, still drawing my gift of power.
The edge of the woods was a good hundred yards away, so I couldn’t make out detail, but I definitely saw my step-aunt rock to a sudden surprised stop and even take a step back. Levi just as suddenly brought the rifle back up on target, which surprised me. Both Darci and Levi had drilled me in weapon safety, and Levi in particular had told me time and again to never point a weapon at anyone unless you were prepared to shoot them and to deal with the consequences of their death. Yet his weapon was pointed directly at the unmoving figures, ready to shoot.
The figures started moving. Darci moved backward, again speaking to Levi, who also moved back, rifle still on target.
The figures all converged on one spot in the woods, almost in a line. They began to move forward until the first in line either stepped or was pushed into our Ward line. The results were spectacular to my Sight.
Coruscating blues and greens flared out all around the figure, which fell forward with a sodden thump. I felt the impact on our protective shields even as I saw it. Whatever they were, they were magic, and one of them had just fried out a spot in our magical fence. The sharp jolt I felt was a hundred times stronger than the first sleeper spell attack on our defenses, much more painful. But luckily, my aunt was shielded from it by the circle that surrounded her. Only my power feed was able to get into the circle, and that was by the design of her Craft. As it was, my volume of magic faltered at the shock, and my aunt suddenly looked scared. Her eyes flicked my way but her patter of words, mostly in Irish but with some that sounded like Latin, never ceased.
I got my act together and smoothed out the stream of power I was sending her, then looked back to the wood line. A shambling figure in a torn gray dress was walking over the back of her fallen companion, one arm hanging loosely. I tried to see them better, but the distance was too far and the light too dim.
Aunt Ash ceased speaking and I looked back at her, thinking something went wrong, but it was the end of that part of her spell. We could talk now, at least a little.
“Chris, can you see them?” I asked. He and Tanya were both watching the drama from inside the circle.
“Yeah, clear as day. They’re corpses,” he said, scratching the side of his head in confusion. “Zombies?”
“Revenants,” I corrected, certain now of what I was seeing. “Typically, what we think of as zombies have some autonomy or self-awareness, at least according to Hollywood. I’m not sure those kind of undead exist at all. Those out there are more like remote-controlled robots. Witch drones. A witch or witches raised them, probably from the cemetery up the hill. Probably the same Circle that tried the earlier spell. But this time, they chose a much smarter option.”
“A much more dangerous option, don’t ye mean?” my aunt said while pouring various herbs into the mortar and pestle. “Tis a weakness of our wards, but it takes a bloody madman or woman to raise them. The slightest slip of concentration and the corpses lose animation and the witches lose their bloody lives.”
“What do we do?” Tanya asked. Out by th
e woods, another corpse was shoved into the wards and a second bridge was now being used by more revenants. Darci pulled a concealed sidearm and, after a glance our way, shot one in the head. It did nothing. Levi tried his more powerful weapon, the flash of gunfire as bright as the sound of the shot was loud. Similar results.
“We do nothing!” she said, pointing at Chris, Tanya, and herself. “I need Declan’s power for a wee bit more, then he can deal with them. In the meantime, the others will have to slow them down.”
Dr. Jensen, who had been observing everything with a fascinated expression, suddenly spoke up, but not to us.
“You heard her, Caeco? Slow them down,” she said in an average speaking voice.
Chapter 55- Declan
Out on the field, Caeco had turned our way and despite the distance, she nodded in understanding, slipping forward past Levi and Darci, who dropped their muzzles to the ground.
Still feeding a torrent of energy to my aunt, who was now pouring handfuls of ground herbs over the two amulets, I watched my new friend slide into action.
She met the first corpse, the woman in gray, and her axe flashed silver in the moonlight as she disassembled the corpse in four lightning-fast strokes. Leg, arm, head, other knee. The body fell and continued to twitch but without direction or progress.
After studying the effects of her efforts, like she was in AP Bio lab or something, she moved forward again, in a dark blur, the silver flashing line of her axe like a kid with a sparkler at the Fourth of July. Another corpse fell, and another. But the edge of the woods was filling with more bodies and a third bridge was being made at the cost of a big fat corpse in red plaid and overalls.
Darci and Levi holstered and slung their ineffective weapons and picked up sticks, moving to protect Caeco’s flanks. My friend was moving back and forth between two corpses, taking arms, legs, and heads with every fluid movement. Still more corpses came through the wards.
“Wow! Caeco’s going HAM!” Rory said.
“Ham?” Dr. Jensen asked, confused.
“Hard As a Motherf…” I began to explain.
“That’s enough, boy!” my aunt interjected.
“Ah, Aunt Ash, there’s too many of them for her,” I said.
“Hold ye horses, lad. Can’t be rushing this, now can I?” she replied, closing her eyes and muttering more words over the necklaces, which were now sparking and flashing in my Sight.
There was now a line of six figures approaching Caeco and her helpers. She could only engage two or three at a time, and when Levi and Darci struck the corpses with powerful blows from the tree limbs they wielded, it did less than the gunshots. Only a sharp blade had an effect. Or perhaps fire.
“That should about do it. Ye can cut the stream, Declan. Then I think ye ought to do something about helping our friends, don’t ye?” Aunt Ash said, fixing me with a meaningful look.
I wasted no time, dropping the Earth power and gathering the raw heat of the fires to me even as I began to run toward the wood line. The fires all flared in unison, as if they were suddenly burning through their fuel much faster—the mother of all cigarettes being sucked to ash.
“Caeco! Fall back, my turn,” I yelled. Without missing a beat, the brown-haired girl finished one swing and then jumped backward a good twelve feet, bringing her even with Darci and Levi, who immediately started to backpedal.
I focused my will and picked out targets while my friends scrambled back from the corpses. As soon as they were clear, I let go, releasing my pent-up will and letting my fear and anger provide additional fuel.
All of the corpses on our side of the line—seventeen, including the corpses still wiggling on the ground—exploded into roaring pillars of white hot fire, lighting everything around us daylight bright: twelve noon in Death Valley bright. They burned with blast furnace intensity, all the carbon and energy in their decaying bodies oxidizing in about five seconds. Then, almost as one, they burned out, their bodies whirling up in swirling plumes of superheated smoke and white ash. The clearing fell back into darkness, the sudden absence of light too fast for my eyes to adjust.
I couldn’t see the remaining revenants in the woods’ edge, everything a solid black around me. I panicked, picturing them closing on me, ready to rip me apart and me not able to see.
“They’re frozen, just standing in the woods. It’s like their operators are too shocked to play,” a soft voice said, almost in my ear. Her hand touched my arm, and I could see her in my mind’s eye, standing at my side, watching the enemy with superior brown eyes, guarding me till my sight could adjust.
I calmed instantly, knowing the girl with the axe had my back. Flickers of light from the dimmed fires started to show me slight detail that grew as my stubborn night vision slowly returned. Behind me, I could hear a clunking sound, the knocking vibrations of firewood being dumped into half-consumed fires. The light flared, and I glanced back at the ritual space. Rory was carrying armloads of firewood from the shed, rebuilding each fire that I had depleted, reloading my ammunition magazines for the next battle. After a moment, Levi, Darci, and Dr. Jensen started to help him and both the light and the Fire power around me rose.
I turned back to Caeco. “Thanks for the safety check. I was getting a little nervous, you know, with these faulty eyes of mine.” I held her gaze for a moment before turning back to the woods.
“Yeah, well, I could feel you getting edgy, and I thought it might be bad if you exploded the whole damned forest just to light your way,” she said with a smirk. “You know, I didn’t realize it before, but you’re kind of a show-off. I was doing pretty well before you came along, with your giant flashy-end-of-the-world fire show.”
“No shit. You and that axe are a total menace. I was going to wait and give it to you for Samhain, but what the hell. Keep the axe… my gift.”
She lit up with a sudden smile, glancing down at the deadly steel in her hand. Abruptly, she hugged me. “Here I thought I’d have to drop hints and shit. Wait, Samhain? Isn’t that Halloween?”
“Yeah, it’s a major deal for us… we give gifts,” I said, noticing the revenants in the woods were beginning to stir. I didn’t want to burn them; it would likely set the whole forest on fire, and I am, after all, a born Vermonter—not going to happen.
The three fried-out corpse bridges were still lying across our wards, so I reached with my left hand and pulled them toward me with a thought and a surge of Earth power. Then I drew a bit on the built-up fires and burned them to ash.
“That’ll do for a bit, lad. Come back and help yer poor aunt,” Ashling said, standing tall and watching me with a concerned look.
We started back toward the others and the fires. “Why did you mess around with magnesium bars with the AIR soldiers when you could have just immolated them?” Caeco suddenly asked.
“Well, I didn’t have a bunch of handy fires to pull heat from, so it would have taken a lot longer to build up the power. The magnesium just needed a nudge and a mental throw. It was much more expedient and efficient. Plus, I’m not supposed to display like that… it’s like sending out a text to all the nearby witches saying hashtag here’s a witch.”
“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” she said with a wave at the circles of blackened grass and vegetation around the clearing.
“I’ve never done anything that big before, so, yeah,” I replied.
I glanced at my aunt and the others, who were all watching me with various expressions: my aunt appraisingly, Chris with a look of respect, Tanya with one exquisite eyebrow raised, Darci and Levi slightly stunned, and Dr. Jensen with a fascinated and creepy stare. Rory was still loading wood, so he just gave me a grin and a one-handed fist pump before continuing to build up the fires.
“You need more power, Aunt Ash?” I asked.
“No, lad. I jest don’t want ye burning down the bloody woods and turning the whole damned town ta cinders,” she said, smiling a little but still evaluating me.
“I’m not ready to run after the scre
aming villagers just yet, Aunt Ash. Maybe after graduation.”
“Cheeky damned teenager. He wasn’t like this till he met you, ye know?” she said with a mock glare at Caeco.
“Oh please! He’s the terror of the school, extorting lunch money, scaring pretty girls, bullying the jocks. If anything, I’m a calming influence on him,” Caeco said with her own smirk.
“Yeah, I think yer right, dear. Maybe between the two of us, we can keep him in check,” Aunt Ash replied, smiling fully.
“It’s his monstrous ego that I’m worried about,” Caeco responded.
“What, like Dr. Jekell and Mr. Narcissist?” Rory asked.
“Funny, Tessing. Look, I’m reading your future and guess what? Comedy clubs aren’t in it,” I said. “What next, Aunt Ash?” I asked, anxious to change the topic.
“Next is the painful part, at least for you, Chris. I think this part will be like getting torn in half, slowly. Are you sure you want to continue?”
