Circles of Seven

by Bryan Davis

  Walter took the pen and leaned over, trying to direct the beam under the mass of beating wings. “Yeah. I’ll remember that rock I landed on.”

  Billy swung his sword again, and Walter instinctively ducked, but not quite far enough. The blade sliced harmlessly through his neck. Billy then blasted a breath of fire into Walter’s chest, and the stream surged through his back, engulfing a bat in flames.

  Walter wiped his sleeve across his forehead. “Way too weird!” He then plunged into the sea of beating black wings, found the rock, and set Apollo on the ground. “How much time?” he yelled.

  Ashley pulled her watch up close to her eyes. “About fifteen seconds!”

  Walter jerked his hood out and pressed his head into it. “Put your hood on and get over here! And don’t forget to wrap your sleeves over your hands.”

  Ashley pulled down her hood. “I want to know if the opening is visible from here. Maybe they’ll be able to see it in their dimension and make a run for it.”

  “Won’t they need cloaks?” Walter shouted.

  The bats began closing in. Walter could barely see Ashley as the bustling vermin enveloped Excalibur’s glow. “Good question!” Ashley shouted back. “I don’t know!”

  Suddenly the entire cave exploded with light. A stream of energy poured from Apollo, painting a new portal door within a foot of Walter. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Can you see it from there?”

  “Yeah! I’m on my way!”

  “Hurry up! It’s already getting smaller!”

  Walter jerked his sleeves down over his hands, forming mittens over his fingers. He waved his arm frantically as Ashley dashed toward him. The portal’s ragged edges contracted, the glowing rectangle dwindling to the size of a fireplace. When she reached his side, she pulled her sleeves over her hands and clutched them tightly. Walter snatched up Apollo, and they both dove through the hole.

  Two seconds later the light evaporated, and Walter blinked away the spots in his field of vision. They were back in the woods where they had begun. Ashley sat on the forest floor, her arm around one knee, shaking her head. She slowly pulled off her hood and stared at Walter. “You were supposed to remind me not to dive through portals.”

  Walter propped himself up on his elbow and rubbed a crick in his neck. “Must have slipped my mind.”

  He jerked his head around. “Billy and Bonnie aren’t here!”

  Ashley rose shakily to her feet and lumbered toward the log where she had left her handheld computer. “Sir Barlow! What do you see? Are the bats still attacking them?”

  Barlow’s scratchy voice replied. “No bats, Miss. But it is an amazing sight, indeed!”

  Billy swung Excalibur and sliced a bat’s wing cleanly off, knocking down two more with his follow-through. The transluminating beam didn’t affect them at all. He had to resort to old-fashioned slice and dice with the blade. “They’re closing in!” he shouted.

  Bonnie beat the air with both arms, slapping away a bat with every swipe. “If you have a plan, I’m listening.”

  Billy pointed with Excalibur. “What’s that little red light?”

  “I see it!” Bonnie shouted. “It’s moving away through the bats!”

  Billy lit up Excalibur’s glow to full force. “Follow it! Hurry!”

  They ducked their heads and charged through the screaming mass of flapping wings, Billy waving the sword frantically. “There’s a door!” he yelled.

  With bats snapping at their faces, they suddenly burst into a field of blazing light. The shrieks died away. The razor teeth vanished. Billy fell onto a patch of soft grass and rolled to a stop. He jumped up and rubbed his eyes, trying to adjust to the new light. A lush meadow stretched out for thousands of yards with thick green grass and purple and red wildflowers swaying in a gentle breeze. Bonnie sat only a few feet away, squeezing her eyelids closed.

  Letting out a deep sigh, Billy returned Excalibur to its sheath and adjusted his belt. “You okay?”

  Bonnie opened her eyes, stretched out her wings, and nodded. “I think so, but jumping through these portals is kind of painful. Did you feel an electrical shock?”

  “A little bit.” He reached down and helped her to her feet. “But Excalibur seemed to form an energy shield of some kind that sort of punched through that door. I was closer to the shield than you were.”

  She brushed off the seat of her pants, and when she lifted her gaze, she thrust out her arm. “Look behind you!”

  Billy reached for his sword and spun around, then pulled back, laughing. “Food!” he yelled happily.

  A picnic table sat in the midst of the grassy field. A white cloth covered the top, and dozens of traditional picnic foods spread across it like a hungry teenager’s dream come true—hamburgers, hot dogs, fried chicken, baked beans, apples and bananas, leafy green salads, corn chips, and a variety of bottled drinks. On one end of the table, two paper plates sat neatly trimmed with napkins and plastic utensils.

  “Think it’s for us?” Bonnie asked.

  Billy spread out his arms. “Who else? There’s nobody here.”

  Bonnie placed a hand on her stomach and smiled. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty hungry. Sir Patrick’s pizza was good, but my trans-Atlantic flight burned a ton of calories.”

  “Yeah. And fighting those bats worked up an appetite.”

  They sat down side by side and began heaping their plates with a sampling of everything. Billy twisted open two bottles of root beer and handed one to Bonnie. Just before he could pull a leg of fried chicken up to his mouth, Bonnie nudged his forearm. “We have to give thanks first.”

  Billy nodded and bowed his head. “We’re thankful for this food. Please bless it and strengthen us for the rest of our journey. And thank you to whoever left it all here for us. Amen.”

  “You’re welcome!”

  Billy looked up, startled by the new voice. Joseph sat on the other side of the table, now dressed in long khaki pants and a striped polo shirt. He untwisted the cap on a bottle of water and took a long drink.

  “Did you put this food here?” Bonnie asked.

  Joseph set the bottle down and patted his stomach. “Yes. I hope these foods are to your liking. It’s traditional American fare.”

  “Yeah, it’s great.” Billy scooped a pile of baked beans onto his plate and stared at Joseph. “You look different. Not just the clothes. . . . It’s like you’re younger or something.”

  “You look younger to me, too,” Bonnie chimed in.

  Joseph’s bushy eyebrows twitched, and a hint of a smile wrinkled his lips. “Younger? Ah, yes. Not surprising. Perceptions change, always change.” He swirled the water inside his bottle and nodded slowly. “Video games; once a pastime, now a waste of time. Grandma’s stories; once a burden, now a treasure.” He propped his foot on the bench. “Yes, flowers fade to ashes. Coal becomes diamonds. Such is life.”

  “So what’s that got to do with you looking younger?” Billy asked.

  Joseph waved his hand at Billy. “Now, now, let’s not dwell on perceptions. You’ll learn that perceptions are volatile in this place. Visible properties change without warning. What you see will often be generated by your thoughts and fears or by how you project those thoughts and fears onto others. What really matters is the quality of the heart, not the shell in which it resides.”

  Joseph slid a steaming casserole dish toward Billy. “Right now you must eat your fill. You will need your strength, and there will be no food fit to eat in the remaining circles.” He waved his arm across the meadow behind him. “Your journey continues in that direction. The grass is still green, for this path is now rarely used, so you will have to watch carefully to stay within its boundaries. This will be the last circle that will have a physical path to follow. The remaining ones will be spiritual paths.”

  “How will we know how to get to the next circle?” Billy asked. “We just kind of stumbled into this one.”

  Joseph drew his head back. “Stumbled? I should say
not!”

  “Well,” Billy said, using his hands to explain. “I just followed this little red light through the cave. That’s all.”

  “That’s all?!” Joseph repeated. “That’s everything!”

  “Everything? What are you talking about?”

  Joseph took a hotdog from a plate and squirted a line of mustard along the top. “Have you forgotten your lessons so soon? I thought the son of Merlin was a better teacher than that.”

  “You mean Professor Hamilton? He’s the best!”

  “Aha!” Joseph took a bite of his hotdog and spoke with his mouth full. “Then you did remember. You followed the light, just as he taught you.”

  “Uh . . . yeah. I guess so.”

  “Good.” Joseph swallowed, and his voice cleared. He raised a finger, and his brow seemed to arch farther out, shading his eyes. “Your journey will become darker, much darker. The light will always be there, sometimes dim, sometimes appearing only as words of truth, but it will be there.”

  “What about the prisoners I’m supposed to find?” Billy asked. “Are there any in this circle?”

  “No, no. Not here. Deeper realms, darker circles. You will see. But for now, you must eat, and I will take my leave. You will not see me again until your mission nears its goal.” Joseph stood and walked away, heading in the direction he had told Billy and Bonnie to go. His body shrank in the distance, more quickly than his pace should have allowed. In less than a minute, he was out of sight.

  Ashley shoved the black hood into her backpack and held the computer close to her mouth. “Amazing, Sir Barlow? What’s amazing?”

  “The cave is gone,” Barlow replied, “and William appears to be sitting at a primitive banquet table in the middle of a battlefield. I saw a great deal of food, but since he sat down, it is now above my view. He turned for a moment, and I saw Bonnie sitting next to him.”

  Ashley helped Walter to his feet, still keeping the computer close. “So they’re safe?”

  “They appear to be quite safe, Miss.”

  “I guess our portal got them out of the bat cave.” Ashley pulled a pair of twigs entangled in spider silk from her cloak and tried to fling them to the ground, but they stuck to her fingers. “So, how do you know it’s a battlefield?”

  “When William was standing, I noticed the way the grass was growing. The lawn is uneven in distinctive patterns, scalloped and thick in portions with nearly vertical divots that mark the gallop or rearing of a horse. Wildflowers have grown where the dirt was exposed, so I would guess that it’s been three months or so since a battle took place there.”

  Ashley brushed the twigs onto a rock, then retrieved her backpack from the ground. “Barlow, that is amazing!”

  “I am not expert in much, Miss, but I do know the battlefield. And there is a saying that red flowers mark the trail of blood. I’m afraid much blood was spilt in that field.”

  Ashley pointed, as though she were in the room with Barlow. “Go look at the compass circles and see if there are any lights in the drawings.”

  “One moment, Miss.”

  Ashley bit her lip, then brushed a leaf from her sleeve. “I guess they can go through the portal without cloaks. I wonder why.”

  Walter pulled a mass of web-entwined leaves from his own black cloak. “I’d rather not try to guess. I’m already more confused than a two-headed chicken.”

  After a few seconds, Barlow’s voice returned. “Yes, Miss. The eastern circle has two coins, and the faces in the coins are glowing red.”

  “Cool!” Walter said. “It’s about time we had some change for the better!”

  “Stuff it, Walter,” Ashley snapped. “This is no time for puns.”

  Walter held up his hands. “Okay, okay. Just trying to lighten the mood.”

  Ashley put a finger on her lips. “Now that I know they’re both in the second circle, I can calibrate my readings to follow them.” She hurriedly punched a series of keys.

  Walter tried to peer at the handheld computer’s screen. “So are there any bad guys around?”

  Ashley gazed at the screen while pulling a cell phone from her belt. “Yeah. A bunch. I don’t like this at all.” She pressed a single button and lifted the phone to her ear. “Professor! Any news? . . . Good. You found Markus. . . . You’re going where? . . . Isn’t Avalon a myth? . . . I see. . . . I guess Markus knows where Patrick might look for a dragon. . . . Yes. Billy and Bonnie are fine. Just a run-in with a few bats. . . . It’s nothing. Don’t worry; we’re keeping an eye on them. . . . Listen, any news on enemy movements? . . . Really? . . . No, actually that makes a lot of sense. . . . Sure thing. I’ll talk to you later.” Ashley re-clipped the phone to her belt.

  “What makes a lot of sense?” Walter asked.

  “Markus’s spies say there’s no sign of the remaining knights of the New Table, even the lower ranked ones.”

  “Don’t tell me. They’ve all gone trick-or-treating in the land down under?”

  “Yep. Take a look.” Ashley handed the computer to Walter. “They’re with knight number six in the second circle. At least forty of them.”

  Chapter 11

  THE PASSAGE BEETLE

  Billy and Bonnie walked across the meadow in the direction Joseph had vanished. It seemed that the trail sprouted more wildflowers than did the rest of the field. It looked as though a careless painter had shaken his brushes out as he walked the long green carpet, splashing the path with every color of the rainbow.

  When they passed over a rise in the field, the highway of flowers split into two colorful roads that slowly diverged across the plain. Billy stopped at the junction. “Now what do we do?”

  Bonnie plucked a white flower and twirled it in her fingers. “Well, do you see any difference between the two paths?”

  Billy studied the grass where the trail split. “There’s a rock here. It looks almost like a road marker.” He lifted the palm-sized stone. “It’s flat on one side, and there’s writing on it.”

  Bonnie leaned over Billy’s arm. “What’s it say?”

  “It’s faded, but I think I can make it out.” He began to read out loud, hesitating at times as he changed the angle to cast light on the more illegible words.

  The second circle’s path of . . . blood

  Instructs the . . . king his debt to pay,

  For . . . all who seek a higher . . . call

  Must patiently await their day.

  “That sounds like Merlin’s style!” Bonnie said.

  “That’s what I was thinking.” Billy surveyed the two paths, his eyes picking through the splashes of color. He pointed to the path on the right. “That one has red flowers, and the other one doesn’t.” He turned and looked at the path behind them. “See? Red flowers all the way to this point. Maybe that’s what the ‘path of blood’ means.”

  Bonnie picked a red flower and held it next to her white one. “Makes sense to me.”

  Billy returned the stone to its place, and they marched down the path to the right, drawing in the faint scent of the tiny blossoms as their feet brushed the petals. Billy quoted the poem as they walked, making it sort of a marching chant. The bouncing rhythm helped him anchor the words in his brain. The sun warmed his skin, and the breeze blew constant refreshment, but the walk still seemed long and tedious, nothing but grass and flowers as far as he could see.

  Billy plucked a yellow wildflower without breaking stride. “You know, I’ve been thinking about what Joseph said about perceptions, something about us seeing what we fear.”

  “Uh-huh. I remember.” Bonnie touched her cheek, then quickly lowered her hand.

  Billy halted and pulled her to a stop. “You don’t have scales, Bonnie. Trust me. This creepy place is just playing tricks on you.”

  “But I can feel them, and the dragon saw them. I wonder why you don’t.”

  “That’s what I was thinking about. We have to be real careful and not always trust what we see or feel. We—”

  “What’s that up ahead?�
� Bonnie pointed toward the horizon.

  Billy stepped in front of her. “Some kind of animal. A horse, maybe?”

  “A horse would be great. I hope it’s not just a perception.”

  As they continued on, the form became clear, a riderless horse ambling in their direction. When the horse drew near, it stopped, its gear clicking against a leather saddle.

  “Seems friendly enough.” Billy extended his hand slowly forward and stroked the horse’s neck. “Maybe it’s for us.”

  “Do you know how to ride?”

  “Yeah. Dad used to own a horse, and I rode it once in a while.” Billy put his foot in the left stirrup and vaulted into the saddle. He reached down to Bonnie. “Your choice. You can fly up here, or you can put your foot where I did, and I’ll pull you up.” With a heave, Billy helped her into place behind him, and she placed her hands lightly on his sides. He grabbed the reins and guided the horse down the path. “This should make our trip faster. Hold on. Let’s see if he’ll change gears.”

  Bonnie wrapped her arms around Billy’s waist as he gave the horse a nudge with his heels. It broke into a steady trot, and the trail of flowers zipped by underneath. With the rhythmic beat of hooves drumming in his ears, Billy shouted, “Now this is the way to travel!”

  Walter and Ashley tramped through the woods, Ashley with the computer near her lips. “Barlow, what do you see?”

  “Young William has mounted a fine war stallion, and he is making haste down a trail of blood.”

  “How far have they gone?”

  “Let’s see. In your American measurements, I would say five miles or so.”

  “Five miles!” Walter repeated. “How are we going to catch up? We don’t have a horse.”

  Ashley halted and squinted at the screen. “It looks like they’re traveling in a wide circle. If we blaze a chord straight through the circle, maybe we can intercept them. The forty goons are probably near an entry portal setting up a trap, so if I calculate the speed and direction we need to intercept. . . .” She pushed her hand through her hair and shook her head. “I . . . I can’t figure it out. These coordinates are relative, and there are too many variables. I can’t compute our vector speed without—”