Dark Arts

by Randolph Lalonde

  Maxwell shared a look with her for a moment, they were both reminded of what was done to April and Zachary. “You all right?” he said quietly while trying not to move his lips.

  “I’ll be fine,” Miranda said. “Someone did some horrible shit and we have to get over that so we can help April and Zachary through what’s ahead. May as well start tonight, yeah?”

  “You sure? I can shave myself,” Maxwell said, eying the razor as she opened it with a flick of her finger.

  “No talkie, Miranda time, remember?” she said with a little smile. “I’ve done this before, don’t worry.”

  “Mmmm-hmmm,” he managed.

  “Like I was saying,” she said as she slowly followed through her first smooth stroke down his upper cheek. “When I was in New York, and my aunts had me back in hand, you’re all Gladys would talk about. I went back to them because I didn’t want to lose my family, and I knew I would if I kept running from one stage, one band to the next. I was doing a sofa tour, and it got dangerous every once in a while, but I was okay. My family wanted me back, not just my aunts, but everyone in New York. They didn’t understand why I was sofa surfing when I could stay with any of them, but I think you get it.” She finished a stroke and looked him in the eye.

  After a moment she smiled, nodded and continued. “You do. So, I promised my aunts I’d stay with them until we went back to Sudbury, I’d do them that favor. I thought I’d come here, meet you, have a nice time at the Gathering and then go back to New York. That’s not happening anymore. Instead of putting my mom’s house up on the market, I’m going to move in and see what happens because I’m in love with you. Keep smiling to a minimum, I’m no good with a moving surface.”

  Maxwell swallowed the smile he barely knew he had and tried to remain still.

  “Better. It is a very bad time to have an accident with a razor right now. I have conditions if I’m going to stay. First, you have to stick around and give this a chance with me. Second, no working in the mine – my aunt Susan still prays for three people who were buried in there every night, one of them was my uncle. Third, if you’re going to move for better work, or whatever, we stay together. We’re both looking for a future, we may as well do it together. I know I want to be with you more than I want to go back to New York, but without New York, all my plans are shot.” She finished a stroke and held the razor away. “You can nod now, that is if you agree.”

  Maxwell nodded, hearing everything she said and truly agreeing with all but one point. “Can I-“

  “It’s Miranda time,” she said, cocking her head.

  “You’ll like it.”

  “Okay, shoot, but keep it short. We don’t have a lot of time.”

  “Why don’t we both go to New York?” Maxwell said. “A guitarist couldn’t hurt.”

  She closed his mouth and started in for another sweep of the razor. “I honestly didn’t think of that. You’d go with me?” Miranda wiped the razor on a towel and smiled. “You can nod or something, but just for a sec.”

  Maxwell nodded. “There’s still real music there. I’d like to give it a shot, especially with someone I’m good with. You’re magic on stage.”

  “Thank you, flattery will get you everywhere my love,” she said. “Hold still, we’re almost done. Okay, so we’ll talk about New York later.” She took a moment to concentrate as she shaved between his upper lip and nose. “I watched you at the hospital. What Panos did was horrible, and it’s hard to stop thinking about it for a minute, I know you’ve barely stopped thinking about it at all. So, he’s getting what he wants. Maybe Panos knows that you are so powerful that he doesn’t want to face you until you’re completely off balance. If that’s his game, he’s definitely winning.”

  Maxwell watched as she spoke. Her words seemed well chosen, and everything she said rung true. He was actually happy that she had him in a position to just listen.

  “You know how to help April, and you can’t do anything for Zachary until his family smartens up,” Miranda said. “So, it might sound cold, but I’m going to tell you to do that, and then stop thinking about it until it’s time to help them some more. You have your own shit to concentrate on, and if you bungle that because Panos got to you, then you’re failing yourself and your friends. I know your instinct is to help everyone around you, I’ve seen it just in the last few days, but there have to be limits right now, capisce?” She swished the razor in the sink, and Maxwell took that as his cue to nod.

  “Good, now I have to tell you a few things about the initiation, especially if your dad didn’t prepare you. You’re already open to the other side like I’ve never seen, but the initiation opens our eyes up in ways that would make other people crazy. We do not talk about what we see to anyone who isn’t initiated. A lot of Circle members have been locked up in asylums over the last two hundred years. The next thing: Samuel wanted me to tell you that you’re not joining with a Guardian and a Summoner, you’re being initiated as a Solo Weaver like your father intended. That was Sam’s decision based on what he knows, you will have to trust him. I wanted you as my Weaver, so you know, and both Scott and Bernie wanted to be your Guardians. I’m actually kind of sad I’m not going to see that scrap. So, what that means is that you can practice magic with whoever you want or alone. The other thing to be aware of is the Guardian circle. You’ve never seen one. In this kind of initiation circle there will be another circle outside of it with all of our strongest guardians, because we expect the veil to be extremely thin this year. We are going to bring the False Priest into the middle circle once the young initiates are finished and moved to the guardians. This will be your final rite. You will have to face the False Priest because he noticed you, if it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t be here. You know the rules of a powerful circle like this. Chin up,” she instructed. “You’ll have about half an hour to make final preparations, the ceremony will begin, the initiations will take place, and then they’ll initiate you. When everyone is ready, you’ll summon the False Priest into the center, proving you have mastered that art. Then you will bind him the way a Guardian does, and then you will dismiss or destroy him permanently. This is with everyone watching, and based on that, you will or won’t be accepted by our Circle.” She stopped talking so she could concentrate on shaving his throat, and when she was finished she briefly kissed his chin and smiled at him. “Yuck, soapy,” she said, standing up and washing the razor.

  “That’s all,” Maxwell said, wiping the traces of foam from his face with a towel. “Properly banish an angry, old spirit in front of the whole Northern Circle.”

  “There are people from all the circles in North America here, there have been rumblings about this one since the last one, seven years ago, but I’m not supposed to tell you that,” Miranda said, drying the razor and closing it. “I’m also not supposed to tell you that no one knew who would be the focus of this Gathering until you cast a circle with us on the beach.”

  Maxwell stood and put his hands on her hips. “Nope,” she said, pulling his shirt up. “Shower time, we both have to be clean and ready and there’s going to be a line for this bathroom in fifteen minutes. No one meets the spirits after sweating all day if it’s a special occasion.”

  “Thanks for the help,” Maxwell said. “Is it still Miranda time?”

  She ran her hand over his cheek and smiled. “For one more minute.” Miranda kissed Maxwell, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning against him. They remained that way for longer than intended, and he wished it could go on when they parted. “Okay, one more thing, and this is little Miranda talking, the one who wanted a Spanish prince to ride up with a black stallion in tow for her so she could ride off into the sunset with him. It’s only been a few days, and it’s passed like a minute, but sometimes it feels like we’ve been hand in hand for months, so I have to-“

  “I love you,” Maxwell said. “Never found it with anyone before, but you’re the one, Love.”

  “Then I’m yours, but only if you’ll be mine
,” she said with a playful grin.

  “That’s what I need,” Maxwell said. “The rest is all details and window dressing.” He finished taking off his shirt and started on his jeans.

  Miranda’s clothing was on the bathroom floor and she was starting the shower before his socks were off. He pinched the cheek where she had her protective tattoo and she shrieked. “I need to get one of those, maybe not where you have it though.”

  “We have a tattoo artist here, I was going to surprise you. Oh, and Allen will have his brands in the circle,” Miranda said. “You know this shower is all business, right?” she said, slipping past the shower curtain.

  “If you insist.”

  “I’m not meeting the ancestors with you dripping down my leg,” Miranda said.

  “Well, that picture’s sure to get me in the mood,” Maxwell said, climbing into the shower.

  “You’re kidding,” Miranda said from under the showerhead.

  “I am,” Maxwell said. “You’ve a foul mouth, but I love you anyway.”

  “You better.”

  “Did you have to banish something during your initiation?”

  “I was thirteen,” Miranda replied. “So, no, I was being introduced into the Circle as a legacy. That, and I didn’t get the attention of something like you did, or have the knowledge you do. The Circle has to see how you use your knowledge.”

  “Ah, so mind my manners, then,” Maxwell said. “No worries.”

  XVI

  Maxwell barely had enough time to prepare for the fight he’d face during his initiation. The crossroads were so cold, he could see his breath in the air. Something had come into that space that was so hungry, that it sapped the heat from the place. He hurriedly took a cutting from the oldest oak he could find, feeling eyes looking at him from all around in the fading light. It was something he’d have to return to and remedy, removing the False Pastor would only be the first step.

  He closed his hand around the bark and wood he cut from the oak and thought of the twisted hanging tree. Scant moments later, he was sure that what he held in his hand was a descendant of that old hanging tree, and retreated from the crossroads on his motorcycle.

  Gathering what he needed from his father’s hidden room was much faster, even though it took him at least five minutes to find where the scabbard for his family sword was hidden.

  Bernie greeted him at the entrance to the cave leading to the private beach with a grin. “You know this would have been easier if you got initiated with Scottie and me.” He was wearing a simple, two-paneled robe that was tied at the waist with a silk belt. Maxwell resisted the urge to comment on it.

  “What fun would that be? Give me the choice between the easy way and the hard way and I’ll pick an even harder way to do something every time,” Maxwell said as he followed Bernie and his kerosene lamp.

  He stopped a moment then looked at Maxwell. “You’re not nervous, are you?”

  “Not even a little,” Maxwell said, shifting the sword scabbard on his back.

  “You are,” Bernie said with a chuckle. “You know, this is your only chance to turn back. Once we reach the other end of the cave, you’re in until the end.”

  “A week ago I didn’t believe in all this,” Maxwell said. “Now I can’t imagine how it was so hard for me to believe. If this will help me see more of the world for what it is and help me join a family that’s wanted me along for most of my life, then I’ll fight for it.”

  “You’ll be a witness to most of what’s about to happen, very little of it will involve fighting. What you do have to do is open your mind and your heart to everything you’re about to see. Don’t worry about guarding yourself until you feel you have to, and when that time comes, you’ll have no doubt.”

  “You’ve fought in a circle like this?” Maxwell asked.

  “No, but I’ve watched Samuel and my father do it on different occasions,” Bernie replied.

  “Any advice?”

  “The circle removes two things that we have to face in the world: the ability for your opponent to create illusions, and their ability to get help. This is the only place where you can confront something like the False Pastor and trust what you see. Do you have a plan for defeating him?”

  “I do, it’s a good one,” Maxwell said.

  “Good, don’t let anything else distract you,” Bernie said. “Here we are, last chance.” He held the lantern up so Maxwell could see the cavern exit clearly.

  “Press on, ya blonde giant,” Maxwell said. He took a step through and was confronted by Miranda, who was wearing a thin, cotton two-paneled dress that had no sides.

  She smiled at him and held up a blindfold. “The next time you see the world, it will not look the same.”

  “I feel a little overdressed,” Maxwell said as she tied the silk band around his head. It covered most of his nose, his forehead and everything in between. He couldn’t help but smell the vanilla rose perfume she was wearing the first time they met as adults, only days before.

  “We take you as you are,” she whispered. “And celebrate what you become.”

  Bernie and Miranda gently led him down the path, across the beach, and to a short set of firm steps he didn’t recognize. The hard surface under his boots was definitely stone, and he could hear the quiet rustlings of people around him.

  “Maxwell Percival Foster,” Samuel’s voice addressed, sounding stronger than it had in all the time Max had known him. “Is your heart open to those who will stand with you in the circle?”

  “Yes,” Maxwell replied.

  “Is your mind open to accept what you are about to experience?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you allow yourself to be bound against harming any of the trusted initiates and imitated inside this circle?”

  “I will allow myself to be bound,” Maxwell replied.

  “Then you may approach,” Samuel concluded. Bernie and Miranda finished guiding him across a stony floor. He was still outdoors, he could hear the birds, and feel the wind, but he could not imagine where he was.

  “The young initiates who entered as uncontested legacy pledges now leave as full initiates who have made their promise to continue learning our ways. They have pledged loyalty to each other and everyone standing here, and go with our love, and our promise to continue to teach and nurture them as they become adults.”

  Maxwell heard the sounds of smaller feet walking past him, a little surprised and disappointed that he missed the initiations of the younger attendees. There were so many feet descending the stone stairs behind him that it reminded him of the rush between classes in High School.

  When the shuffling of feet abated, a voice called out. “The Guardians have closed the circle once more.”

  “Relax,” Miranda whispered. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

  “Which Guardian presents Maxwell Perceval Foster to the Circle?” Samuel asked.

  “Bernard Samson Webb. I present him as a Weaver,” Bernie answered.

  “Which Summoner presents Maxwell Perceval Foster to the Circle?”

  “Miranda Alexa Larson. I present him as my Weaver,” Miranda replied.

  “Please take all he carries with him in the Circle and offer it to the altar,” Susan said.

  Maxwell allowed hands to slowly take his sword, his shirt, his knife and the rest of his clothes from him. As they did so, people offered comments to the altar. Bernie was the first, as his sword was carefully unstrapped from his back. “This man fights for his friends.”

  Miranda was next as his shirt was pulled over his head. “This man has shown deep love.”

  “This man has allowed his anger to provoke him to violence,” Allen said as his knife was untied from his hip.

  “This man can release his hate for all but two people in the world,” said Scott as his amulet was removed.

  “This man is playful at heart,” Gladys said as she pulled his belt from its loops.

  “This man speaks his mind,” Bernie said as
his pants were undone and they fell to his knees. Maxwell shook them down to his ankles and stepped out of them.

  “This man would rather have a friend than an enemy,” Miranda said as his boxers were taken down.

  “Are those all the truths that you would have known?” asked Susan. “What of his flaws? I would hear three more.”

  “This man believes he is strong enough alone to bear any burden,” Samuel said.

  “This man is stubborn,” Bernie said.

  “This man is reckless,” Samuel said.

  “These things all sound true to me,” Susan announced.

  “And to me,” Gladys agreed.

  “And to me. The holders of the Inner Circle are satisfied,” Samuel concluded.

  “Do I get one of those lovely dresses now?” Maxwell whispered.

  A few stifled snickers were his reward, then he heard a sword being drawn from its sheath, and Maxwell’s demeanor became serious once more.

  He winced as something sharp touched his chest, and he remembered a photo from an initiation rite still practiced in Europe. A strong hand kept him standing in position, and he straightened. A drop of blood ran down his bare chest, and he could picture himself in that old black and white image, standing straight in the middle of the circle, nude, with the Weaver in front of him. Sword in hand, the leader of the ceremony held the tip to his chest. “Maxwell Percival Foster, you are now known to the Circle, and have earned the right to hear its true name. We are the Third Spiral. Now I ask the question you have come to finally answer,” Samuel said, his voice strong and clear. “Do you swear to defend the secrets of our Order, protect the innocent from the hidden evils, and to return to the light with The Enlightened? Answer carefully, if there is betrayal in your heart, this blade will know.”