Bone Dance

by Lee Roland

  Tana soaked her finger in a foul-smelling concoction. As her pain eased, she let the old farmhouse’s presence, its hearth magic, seep into her mind and body.

  The windows were spread open to the spring air, and gingham curtains lifted in a gentle breeze. No screens blocked the view, and no insect would dare enter the sanctum of Tana’s house. Dried herbs and flowers hung from the ceiling—lavender, peppermint, lemongrass, and others long extinct in the world outside Elder. Their sweet scent mixed with that of fresh bread in the oven and the cup of May-apple tea in front of Maeve.

  Flor wandered around touching and sniffing the hanging flowers. “Not that one,” Maeve said when the witch reached for a small pink bloom. “Unless you have the urge to go desperately running down the road after Raymond.” Flor laughed and sat with Maeve to tell their story.

  Tana listened, her face grave. “Flor, you have no idea why you’re here, other than Immal wanted you to come? I understand why she would want you to be among magic folk. I wonder why she waited until now.”

  Flor shook her head. “I don’t know the why of anything. She taught me magic and how to work certain aspects of the craft. Immal told me that the day would come when I’d need that skill. I’m the last of my people, and she didn’t want me to be alone. I don’t know how she knew about Maeve or Elder. Why did those men want to kill Maeve to keep her away?”

  “I don’t know that either,” Tana said. “Claire—”

  “Came down to the river to rescue me. At least that’s what it seemed like. She was afraid you’d blame her for what happened.” Maeve knew she sounded defensive. Claire possessed the power to instigate desperate longing and savage resentment.

  “Darling, I don’t understand Claire anymore than I understand you. I love you both and hope for the best.” She removed Maeve’s finger from the solution, rubbed the nail with cream, and wrapped it with a leaf that molded to the digit like a second skin.

  “So, tell me what’s going on here.” Maeve leaned back and gave Tana a steady look.

  Tana’s face tightened. “Five years ago, your mother came home with him in tow. He’s not human, but other than that…” She brushed her fingers across her lips, a gesture that Maeve knew meant she was disturbed. “Neither he nor Claire will let me close enough to read his aura. You said he didn’t react at the obvious disaster of the fallen bridge? That’s amazing. It was nothing when he first came. He and Claire built a large home. He built the factory, the barracks for the troops, and the trailer park for construction workers, brought in the men with guns—”

  “And you let them do it? What about the Witch’s Council? You’re High Witch—”

  “No more. I was deposed when I refused to allow it. Now I obey them like everyone else.”

  “So who’s High Witch now?” Maeve hugged herself in anticipation of an answer.

  “Your mother. Claire is now the High Witch of Elder.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Claire? High Witch?” Maeve choked on the words.

  “Yes. We can talk later.” Tana stood.

  “I suppose I’ll hear it all eventually.” She stared around the room. “Where’s Juju?”

  “In the pantry. She has eggs again, so please don’t upset her. Also, don’t leave the house until I warn you about what’s happened. You’ve never paid much attention to my warnings before. This time, I think you should. And don’t leave until you eat. I need to put at least ten pounds on you.” Tana left them to be sure Flor’s room was ready.

  “Who’s Juju?” Flor asked.

  “I’ll show you.” Maeve went to the pantry and slowly opened the door. Of all the places in the house, she liked the pantry best, part of the safe, warm kitchen sanctuary.

  “Juju?” she whispered. A soft hiss greeted her, and she dropped to her knees. The impressive yellow and white mottled snake slithered from the darkness. Maeve heard Flor’s sharp gasp.

  Juju coiled her ten-foot long body like a rattlesnake, ready to strike. She raised a saucer-sized, triangular head, and her forked tongue flicked and danced on Maeve’s face in delicate welcome home kisses. Then with the soft brush of scales rubbing together, Juju retreated to the pantry’s shadowed depths. Maeve rose to her feet. She closed the door and went back to the table.

  Flor’s hands shook, and her honey colored skin seemed pale.

  “What’s the matter?”

  Flor shook her head. “I… The snake…”

  “Come on, Flor. Don’t tell me you’re afflicted with the old bias against snakes.”

  “No. Mazacoatl. The serpent. I dreamed the God spoke to me, once. In that form.”

  “Now that’s impressive.” The deep rumbling voice came from behind Maeve.

  Chaos!

  Maeve whirled and faced him.

  Seven feet tall with horns and claws, the demon ducked his head under the doorframe and entered the kitchen. His olive green, hairless skin had the luster of oiled leather, and he too flicked a long tongue at Maeve. “Sweet child, may I have welcome kisses, too?”

  “My ass.” Maeve scanned the room for a weapon. She reached to the counter and snatched up a knife. The blade was pretty impotent as a weapon, but available. She faced him again.

  “I am your grandmother’s guest, my dear.” He gave her a toothy smile. “She would be a bit disconcerted if you stabbed me and poked holes in these admirable clothes she provided.”

  He was dressed. Other than a loincloth, Maeve had never seen a clothed demon.

  “She seemed to find my nakedness offensive,” Chaos said.

  “I find you offensive, period—and I have a long memory. Why are you here?”

  “A complicated story, much like one of your interesting adventures. Tana offered me sanctuary. There have been incidents.”

  “Incidents?”

  Tana walked back into the kitchen. “Ten demons have disappeared in the last year. Many are hiding out in the valley. Chaos, thanks to his long association with us, seems to have become an outcast.”

  “His association with us? His actions didn’t have anything to do with a casting out, did they?” Maeve laid the knife down. How annoying. She’d always been able to intimidate him, but since he was here with Tana’s blessing…now what did she do? He needed to know he wasn’t forgiven.

  “Flor,” Tana said, “are you ill?” Flor remained a bit pale and shaken.

  “I think she had a religious experience. It’ll pass.”

  Flor gave them a weak smile. “I should be used to Maeve’s surprises by now.”

  Maeve laughed. “Hey, you’ve produced a few shocking episodes yourself.”

  Tana patted Flor on the shoulder as she sat down at the table. “Bad things have happened. Other Iameth have gone missing, but they may be hiding. The only thing strong enough to take a demon is an ogre or a dragon. The ogres are disagreeable as always, but as far as I know, the Oath of Elder still holds, but everyone is frightened.”

  The oath might hold, but someone had trapped the the Slough Hounds and taken them out of Elder to attack Maeve. Demons were a reclusive race. She had only seen one or two in her life until Chaos started hanging around Tana’s house. Though fearsome in appearance, they were generally gentle creatures. Chaos wasn’t evil, never vicious—he simply had a supreme talent for irritating her. That’s why she’d bound him in the well before she left last time.

  “What’s wrong with the people in town?”

  “Fear. Three quarters of them have gone. They couldn’t deal with that gate and guards, late mail, no phone service. I gave them money to get by, hoping it would get better. All the children left, so they closed the school. Sit down Chaos, I’ll make more tea.” Tana made at least a hundred different teas. Each designed for a specific purpose. She could put a person to sleep, spice up their love life, or cure a cold.

  “When the Sethos’ mercenaries first arrived, they were out of control. This was before Captain Harlan arrived. He seems a gentle man, but also brave and quite forceful. I do respect him.” Ta
na filled the hundred-year-old kettle she loved. “They acted as if Elder was their personal playground. Sheriff Cagle tried to arrest a couple, and they almost killed him. I expended a considerable bit of my power to save his life.”

  Elder had virtually no crime, and the sheriff only handled domestic and personal property disputes. He was actually a volunteer, not a witch, but a retired cop from the city.

  “Tell them the story of your extravagant act of justice, Tana dear,” Chaos said.

  Tana shook her head. “The Marshton girl was thirteen-years-old, and there were five of them…she died. Thirteen-years-old.” Oh, the sorrow and rage in Tana’s voice. “Only once before in my life have I…let’s say I was angry. Right after that happened, I demanded that the Council act on the problem, force Sethos and his bunch to leave. That’s when the Council, for whatever reason, chose to replace me with your mother. Then they closed the meetings and shut everyone out.” She frowned. “Someone’s coming.”

  They went to the parlor and watched out the window as a pick-up truck parked in front of the house. Captain Harlan climbed out and walked forward. He stopped at the steps. Afraid to come closer? Tana went out and saved him from making the decision.

  “Good afternoon, Captain.” Her voice was cool, but not menacing. “How may I help you?”

  “Afternoon, Ms. Pallas.” He shifted a little, and his gaze darted around.

  Harlan straightened, apparently finding inner courage. “Mr. and Mrs. Sethos would like Mrs. Sethos’ daughter and her friend to join them for dinner. They’ll send a car at seven.”

  Tana stared at him. After a long moment, she relented and let him off the hook. “Maeve,” she called.

  Maeve stepped outside. She gave the captain a sympathetic smile. “Let me talk to Flor a minute.” She went back inside and told Flor about the invitation.

  Flor refused. “They tried to kill us! They hurt Raymond.”

  “Yeah, but we still don’t know why. We’re here now, and I think they’re so afraid of Tana they won’t try anything.”

  “She’s that powerful?”

  “Yes, she’s that powerful. Tana’s been, or was, High Witch for a hundred years before I was born. The only reason she’s not High Witch now is her sense of order and protocol. The Council wanted Claire and that’s what they got. But they know Tana could blast them all if she wanted to.”

  Maeve gazed out the window. Tana stood on the front porch exchanging what she hoped were pleasantries with Captain Harlan. “I need answers, Flor. I made Inaras a promise to fix Elder’s problems,” she said softly.

  “I can’t go, Maeve.” She hesitated. “Actually, I don’t think I’m supposed to go. Just a feeling, but…”

  “Yeah, we should probably pay attention to those, especially here.” Maeve walked back out. “Tell Claire I’ll come. Flor isn’t feeling well.”

  Harlan wouldn’t look her in the eyes, and whatever Tana said to him transformed his face bright red. He accepted her words with a nod of his head, then quickly climbed in his vehicle and drove away.

  Maeve frowned. “I had the idea that Harlan was an important person. What’s he doing delivering a dinner invitation?”

  “Maeve, I may no longer be High Witch, but I’m considered an important person, too. Besides, he’s the only one of them with the courage to approach me. The little men run away.”

  Yes, the captain had impressed her when she met him at the gate. “What did you say to him? He left in a hurry.”

  “I simply suggested that he and Claire find a place other than the Rowan grove for their weekly excursions. Your mother may be an exhibitionist, but he wasn’t aware he had an audience. The owls and fairies don’t mind, but a few harpies roost there. You know how they are.”

  Maeve laughed. “Eweee-uu, nasty. Wish Harriet would come back.”

  “If she didn’t tell you anything before, she won’t now.”

  “I know.” Maeve hugged Tana again. “I just miss her.”

  ****

  Alex fought his fear. Could they see it? He had his hands clasped behind his back so no one would see them shake. He and Captain Harlan stood behind the Commander in the large factory room that Sethos used as… What? An office? A throne room? They’d returned from their disastrous journey west three days ago, having given up the search after the magical flood.

  Captain Harlan had been his superior until the Commander took Alex into his charge. Harlan had kept him from immediate harm on arrival, and once he went through training, his agile moves and Grandpa’s lessons earned him a little respect. Most of the recruits had IQ’s hovering around seventy. It made them easy enough to get around, as long as he stayed out of situations where numbers would overwhelm him, like the one that brought him to the Commander’s attention.

  Across the room, across the plush snow carpet, Aubrey Sethos sat deceptively dwarfed in an enormous white leather chair. Alex had never been this close to him before. Like any powerful man, Sethos had the money and means to carry out almost any deadly desire. Alex’s fear went far deeper. It came from animal instinct and intuition that spoke of death and destruction. He was deeply repulsive as a man. If he was a man. Now where had that thought come from? Oh, he’d seen creatures, but they were far from human. The Commander’s father? Was that possible?

  Mrs. Sethos, Claire, sat beside him on the thick chair arm. His doughy white hand casually kneaded the flesh just above her knee. Alex tried not to stare, but he couldn’t stop himself. The fingers squeezed, relaxed, and then stroked her fair skin. How did she stand his touch?

  Alex had never known a woman so beautiful. From her iridescent white-gold hair to her elegant, long athletic legs, Claire Sethos was picture book splendor in the flesh.

  “You were instructed to capture Maeve Pallas and bring her here, quietly, secretly. No one was to know she was here. You failed,” Sethos said. “Then, when it was far too late, you tried to openly take her on the bridge today. You failed again and my perfect bridge…” Sethos hissed like a snake.

  The Commander said nothing. He stood straight, arms crossed, facing his father. He was many things, but not a coward.

  “I sent you assistance. A way to track her, locate her.” Sethos’ voice rose in pitch to a level a fraction below a soprano.

  “Then I would say, Father, her assistance was superior to yours. She could not have acted alone.” Stubborn defiance delivered with perilous arrogance.

  Alex fought not to cringe. He had to admire the Commander’s courage in facing Sethos.

  Claire shifted in her seat and leaned toward him. “There is also the curious matter of the other witch, darling. Certainly, no one expected that. And she is a powerful little thing, wherever she came from.” Her honey-sweet voice drew all eyes to her. She laid her hand on Sethos’ broad shoulder and leaned against him. Was she defending the Commander? Or drawing Sethos’ attention to another matter?

  “Thank you for reminding me, my dear.” He smiled without looking at her.

  “I’ve had people searching for information on the new witch,” Erik said. “All I know now is that she picked up—”

  “What happened to the bridge?” Sethos’ voice cut razor edged across the room.

  The Commander shifted, then steadied. “Ask Claire. She saw it fall.”

  Sethos glanced at his wife. “My dear?”

  Claire gave him a sweet smile. “Maeve is my daughter. She is an Elder witch. She has power—untested, untrained, but magic is her birthright. That is the very reason I asked that you bring her here to me specifically, so I could quietly control her. Now she’s with Tana, and everyone knows. I don’t think I can get her away. I don’t know her intent at the bridge. Her incredible incompetence…the spell went wrong. It’s not the first time she’s had an…accident.”

  Sethos’ studied her for a moment.

  “Very well,” Sethos said, “we’ll leave it for now. But my dear son, we will revisit the matter of your failure to capture later.”

  Claire smiled and Al
ex shivered

  Chapter Seventeen

  The warmth of home embraced Maeve, and Tana hadn’t changed her old bedroom. With its white lace country curtains and intricate multi-colored handmade quilts, the room served as refuge and at times prison when Tana grounded her. Windows opened to the back porch roof, an easy way out when necessary.

  “Did you see the label on this?” she asked, holding up a dress she’d dug out of a box Tana had brought from the attic.

  “Oh, yes. Italian, I think.” Flor held up another dress, pure white with tiny jewels sewn on the bodice. Maeve rarely wore such, but it was a lovely garment.

  “Good thing Tana’s rich. Claire always had the best, even before she became Mrs. Sethos. She’d dump her old clothes here like she thought I might want them.”

  “Tana doesn’t look rich.”

  “She doesn’t care much about wealth, but she has a hoard of old gold coins somewhere. She used to play the stock market too, until she got bored—and started drawing attention. But yeah, there’s money. Maybe not the multi-billionaire kind like Sethos, but close enough.”

  The midnight blue skirt Maeve chose fell to below her knees and flared enough to cover the knife strapped to her thigh. It would allow her to run if necessary, and running had meant survival several times in her life.

  The loose blouse of the same material and color covered the gun belt at her waist. She checked the .38 and stuffed two extra clips in the gun belt pockets. She had an idea of killing Erik. Never in her life had she wanted to kill, but for some reason, the memory of sighting him along the .38’s barrel pleased her. Possibly she could shoot him in the leg and hope it would be as painful as what he did to Raymond.

  Tana came in as Maeve holstered the gun. She frowned. “You look lovely. Do you need that armament?”

  “I hope not,” Maeve told her. “You don’t want me to use magic, do you?”

  “Please don’t incite them, love. Your little pistol is nothing compared to what they have. If anything happened to you I’d—”