Chapter 5: The Mage Revealed

Friday, October 8
Taylorville, South Carolina

Deirdre Wilkes was up before dawn to fix Evan's breakfast and lunch. She wouldn't have time to fix breakfast for Kelly and Ellen, because she had to go to work early to start making up time she had missed Thursday. Deirdre was fixing her own bag lunch when Ellen walked into the kitchen.

"Mornin', Deirdre," Ellen said.

"Good Morning, Ellen. Did you sleep well?"

"I think I might've slept sounder if ye'd not made such a racket," Ellen said with a tired smile. "Ye and Evan must keep yer neighbors awake." Deirdre blushed, and her eyes widened in shock.

"You heard us?" Ellen had to laugh at the question.

"Did I hear ye? I expect Mum and Da heard ye, and them back in County Kildare."

Deirdre was terribly embarrassed. She wasn't sure what came over her in the night, but she had made love to her husband with a passion that had been missing for several years. Maybe it was an aftereffect of Joshua's glamour. Thinking of the Hawkins boy didn't make Deirdre feel any better. She knew that she had hurt Kelly with her decision, but she wasn't sure what else she could have done.

"Ye're thinkin' o' Kelly and the lad, are ye not?" Ellen asked, her smile fading a bit.

"Stay out of my mind, Ellen."

"Out o' yer mind indeed? I'm yer sister, Deirdre. I do not need tah see yer mind tah know yer heart. Ye feel guilt for the harm ye've done Kelly and that boy. Ye should feel guilt. Brighid knows they are meant tah be together. How can ye deny your daughter what ye've found with your Evan?"

"Evan and I are adults, Ellen," Deirdre said defensively. "Kelly's too young-"

"And how old were ye, when first ye gave yerself tah another?" Ellen interrupted. "Do not think tah lie tah me in this, Deirdre."

"I was fourteen," Deirdre admitted.

"Aye, and it was none other than James Dugan," Ellen added. "Did ye love him, Deirdre?"

"How did you know that?" Deirdre asked in shock.

"Jamie ne'er could keep his mouth shut after a few pints. Now, answer the question. Did ye love him?"

"No, it was a mistake," Deirdre admitted.

"And ye fear for Kelly tah learn so painful a lesson?"

"Yes," Deirdre said. Then she thought about it for a moment. "But there's no mistake, is there?"

"No, big sister, Joshua will never hurt Kelly as ye were hurt. Ye know that he would rather die than see harm come tah her."

Deirdre went silent in thought. She went back to fixing her peanut-butter sandwich. Maybe Joshua would die for Kelly, but what of Kelly? Must she be ready to give her life for him? But wouldn't I give my life for Evan, or Kelly? I can accept my devotion to my family, but I can't accept the idea that my baby might risk harm, or death for any boy. Deirdre had no time for further thought, because Kelly walked into the kitchen then. She was already dressed and ready for school.

"Hold on, Kelly," Mrs. Wilkes said. "Where do you think you're going?" Kelly looked at her mother with calm defiance.

"I'm going to school," she said.

"Oh no, you're not! You were... attacked just two days ago. The school said it would be okay for you to stay off until Monday."

"I know what day I was raped, Mom," Kelly watched her mother flinch when she spoke the hated word. "I can remember that far back. I can also remember who risked his life to save me. Can you remember who that was, Mom?"

"I remember who it was," Deirdre replied, growing angry. "It was the same boy, who, not a full day later, took advantage of your gratitude to get you into bed!"

"We are in love, Mom. People who are in love, make love to each other. And, for your information, it was my choice to go to bed with him. If anyone was seduced yesterday, it was Joshua."

Deirdre's stubbornness was awakened by her daughter's willful defiance. Perhaps she could have been convinced, if not for that.

"I don't have time for this!" she proclaimed. "Ye'll not leave this house 'til I return," Deirdre said to her daughter. Then, she turned to her sister. "Ye'll see that she obeys me in this." Ellen crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow at her older sister.

"Ye know my mind on the subject, Deirdre," Ellen said. "I'll not stand between Kelly and Joshua." Deirdre shook with rage.

"I'm no pagan sorceress, Ellen, but I know the traditions o' our people," Deirdre said threateningly. "If ye let Kelly out o' this house without my permission, I'll put a gesa on ye that'll curl yer toes!"

"Do what ye must," Ellen replied calmly. "I'm not yer jailer." Deirdre huffed in exasperation. Then, she hurried off to work. The kitchen was silent for several seconds after she left. Kelly finally spoke.

"Aunt Ellen, can Mom really put a gesa on you?"

"Aye, as stubborn as she is, t'would be a simple thing," Ellen answered. "O' course, once she cools down, she'll think again about the subject o' you and Joshua, and maybe she'll finally understand."

"I'm not so sure that she will ever understand," Kelly said, sadly.

"Oh, have a little faith in yer mother," Ellen said cheerfully. "She heard yer words, and she'll think on them as the day wears down her stubborn anger. Yer mother loves ye, Kelly, and she'll see the right path because o' it."

"Well, I'll get breakfast at school, Aunt Ellen," Kelly said as she headed to the door.

"Ye know I'll not stop ye," Ellen called after her niece. "But if ye stay home today, I can teach ye a few simple rituals. The gift o' sorcery is strong in ye, and ye may have need o' it someday. Some day soon.

Watching the coastal freighters creep slowly into the Taylorville estuary did nothing to improve Drake's mood. It must take three hours just to travel from the open sea to the docks! the sorcerer thought. Lear's Cove was on the coast, and had once been a whaling port. Now, it only hosted the pleasure craft owned by the locals and their friends. William Drake had never seen a working port before, but his innate sense of superiority told him that his ancestors had no doubt run a smoother and more efficient port in the days of sail, than these dim-witted rednecks were running now. It couldn't have stunk as badly either.

Finally, at 8:15, Drake heard the droning sound of a piston-engined airplane. He raised his hand to block the glare of the morning sun, and saw a plane swooping down from the northeast. It began a banking turn as Drake watched, and settled on a direct course, toward the docks.

The Grumman G-21 'Goose' was an amphibian. It could land on land or water with equal ease. It was an old, unobtrusive plane that was built in 1937. Its versatility and harmless appearance made it a good smuggling plane for the family business. Mike Marcelli chose it as the quickest means to reach his destination, now that Savannah International was closed.

Mike had a pilot's license, saving him from having to find a reliable pilot on short notice. The seven mafiosi he had gathered were not the best, but they were the best to be found in a hurry, and they all knew how to keep their mouths shut. Marcelli skillfully landed the Goose in the bay and motored up to the dock.

"Moor us to the dock," Mike shouted into the cabin, as he cut the engines back to idle. The hatch in the top of the nose opened and a young woman in jeans, sweater, and a baseball cap climbed out with a coil of strong rope. She quickly secured the G-21 to the dock cleats.

Once the plane was secure, Mike and his other seven associates debarked. Marcelli recognized the pale, sour-faced man in the Brooks Brothers suit. Mr. Drake was walking quickly toward the seaplane. There was a creepy smile on the older man's face, and Mike decided that he liked Drake's frowns better.

"Ah, Michael, you amaze me!" William said in what he thought was a friendly voice. "You deliver on your promises, even the impossible ones." Drake had been so absorbed in seeing his will made manifest, that he didn't notice that an attractive, dark-haired girl was with the thugs, until he was nearly face to face with her. She was dressed as a boy, with her hair tucked under her cap. Drake's tone became guarded. "Who's this woman you brought with you?"

"This is my little sister Sophia Anne Marcelli," Mike answered before his sister could. "She's absolutely reliable, and as tough as any man on this dock." None of the Mafia soldiers took offense, because they knew the truth of the statement. Jeff Carver didn't take offense, because he could recognize another trained fighter. Drake didn't believe that the thin little girl could be much tougher than a creampuff, but her presence inspired William. He now knew where he would get his 'insurance'.

"Come along," the sorcerer said. "We have much to do before three o'clock."

Yakutsk, Siberia

An Mi-14 transport helicopter belonging to the KGB Border Guards waited on the Tarmac as the modified Tu-16 bomber arrived. There were two passengers aboard the bomber, and they hurried through the light snow to the waiting helicopter. One passenger was a stunning blonde woman in the uniform of a KGB lieutenant colonel. The other was a man. His insignia showed him to be a captain, but he was so heavily bundled against the cold that his face could not be seen. The helicopter pilot saluted.

"Welcome home, Colonel Sverdlova." The colonel and her companion climbed into the Mi-14. The pilot resumed his position and began the pre-flight check.

"What is the latest word on Comrade Brezhnev's condition?"

"He still lives, Comrade Colonel, but not for much longer."

"Who will take his place?"

"If I knew that, Comrade Colonel, I'd be a General at least."

"Just get us to Baba Yaga as quickly as possible, Comrade Pilot." The helicopter lifted off and turned toward the mountains north of Yakutsk.

Olga looked at Nefer as he sat on the bench and tried to retreat further into his winter uniform. The demon didn't like the cold. Olga felt no pity for her comrade. She had never been so weak. She could feign pity for the weak fools who seemed to need it, but she would not insult Nefer in such a way.

"Turn the heat up, Comrade Pilot," the colonel commanded. Nefer was a useful tool, and Colonel Sverdlova took proper care of her tools. "Have you brought any other officers to Baba Yaga in the last two days, Comrade Pilot?"

"Yes, Comrade Colonel. Director Orlov arrived two days ago, and General Vladimirov arrived yesterday." Konstantin Orlov was the commander of the Twenty-Seventh Secret Directorate. Lieutenant Colonel Sverdlova suspected that he was here because of the threat to his Directorate. General Vladimirov was an officer of Service R, the internal review section of the KGB. Like most members of Service R, Vladimirov gained his position because of political patronage. Olga knew that his patron was one of the opponents of Directorate Twenty-Seven. Vladimirov was certainly there to dismantle the Directorate. Lieutenant Colonel Sverdlova immediately began to plan ways to counter, or at least delay that threat.

Taylorville, South Carolina

Though the school had only been closed one day, it seemed very different to Joshua as he returned. Much had changed in that short time. Joshua had learned the truth about his nature. He had lost his virginity. He had found, and, for the moment, lost the woman he was destined to love. He had learned that at least a portion of what he had thought of as myth was true.

Not all of the changes were in Joshua and his life. It had been known since junior high, that Joshua stood up for his friends, but he had never been called upon to fight three at once, he had never had to stop such a horrible act in progress, and he had never injured anyone so severely. The reactions to what he had done were as strong as they were mixed.

Some of the students that had once feared Joshua, now looked at him as some sort of superhero. Others came to fear him more. The football team seethed with anger and resentment for the loss of their captain and two strong players, but they were all afraid to attack the dark-haired boy in black. Bullies went far out of their way to avoid crossing Joshua's path.

Even the teachers and administrators acted differently around Joshua. Where they had once seen a quiet, polite, B and C student who didn't fit into any of the cliques, they now saw a dangerous person capable of swift, terrible acts of violence. They watched him as shepherds might watch a wolf in the distance, hoping it would come no closer, and determined to stop it if it did.

Joshua was made aware of all of this before he even reached his first class. He didn't care to be considered a superhero. Joshua knew that if people began to rely on him to save them from their troubles, like Superman, they were destined for inevitable disappointment.

Joshua had never liked being feared, but he hadn't understood the source of the fear. Now that he had finally learned that his own dark moods fed fear into his aura, and was making an effort to think happy thoughts, it didn't matter. Some people weren't frightened, thankfully, but those that were, were reduced nearly to fits of panic by Joshua's approach. Victim and bully alike no longer simply stepped aside to let Joshua pass. They now hurried away from him. Contrary to what Conan might think, it's no fun to see people driven before you, Joshua thought, as he sat down in English class. And, while we're on the subject, I don't want to hear the lamentations of the women. I can think of better noises for the women to make. The last thought was really an effort to lift his spirits. It was successful. As he thought about Kelly and Sara, and the noises they had made, it lifted more than his spirits. The teen had to shift in his seat to accommodate the stiffening rod in his pants. Joshua's thoughts turned to his English teacher. Ms. Holden was undeniably beautiful. She had golden hair, skin that was still tan from summer sunbathing, an adorable oval face, and big emerald eyes that made her look younger than her twenty-six years. Ms. Holden always dressed modestly, but Joshua had no doubt that her trim figure would give a Playboy model a run for her money. Getting her to make some passionate noises would have been a lot of fun.

While these thoughts were very happy ones, they were also charged with lust. Joshua noticed that the other students had started to look at each other in very un-scholastic ways. Way to go, Stagboy! Joshua thought, angrily. First period English is about to turn into an orgy! Two kids in the back of the room had already started kissing. It was only a matter of time before clothes started coming off. I need to stop this! I need to counter the sexy thoughts! Joshua could think on his feet when necessary. He quickly came up with a solution that he hoped would work. Okay, how about... ERNEST BORGNINE NAKED!! The picture was nearly painful to imagine, but it began to cool Joshua's blood. ERNEST BORGNINE AND JULIA CHILDS DOING IT, DOGGY STYLE ON HER KITCHEN COUNTER!! That thought almost made Joshua physically sick, but his revulsion fed into his aura, and had the desired effect. The other students couldn't have had their lust dampened more effectively by a rain of ice water. The entire class, including Ms. Holden, was blushing, but no one made any mention of what had just happened. Joshua kept quiet, and hoped that things would stay that way.

Amy Ward was a little happier as she rode to school. Aunt Wilma had told her that Blake's surgery had been successful and his condition had been upgraded early that morning. Amy hadn't been able to speak with her parents before she left for school. They had been out late, and decided to stay in town. Amy was pretty sure that she knew what that really meant. She hoped it had helped them to forget their troubles for a while.

When Amy asked about Joshua and Sara, Aunt Wilma provided little information about Joshua.

"I spoke to Miss Flowers, and she said that both Sara and Joshua seemed in good spirits before they left for school," Aunt Wilma said, with an odd expression. "She said that Sara was polite this morning, and that she apologized for being rude in the past."

"Is Miss Flowers sure that she wasn't talkin' to a pod person?" Amy asked, jokingly.

"Now, Amy," Aunt Wilma said, trying to not giggle. "Sometimes a crisis brings out the best in a person."

"Any news about Joshua?"

"No." Aunt Wilma's tone was sharp. Amy was afraid to press the matter, but she decided that she would get in touch with Joshua after school. She would walk to the gas station and use the pay phone, or she would walk all the way home if she had to, but she would find out how Joshua was doing.

Amy knew that the whole family would be trying to comfort Blake, but Father and Aunt Wilma wouldn't offer any comfort to Joshua. Sara couldn't be counted on, so it fell to Amy to offer whatever support and help she could.

Chris Howell had no idea how long he lay on the floor before he was able to gather the strength to stand. He hadn't lost consciousness, despite being clinically dead. He had merely lost any sense of time. The part of his mind that was still working told Chris that this was probably due to the lack of blood flow to his brain. His heart and lungs were doing their job once more, so Chris expected that his mind would clear.

The Irishman staggered back into his sitting room and collapsed into the chair that faced the door. Who have I pissed off this time? Chris wondered. He didn't think that it was a jealous husband, or an outraged father. Chris currently had four lovers, none of them married, and he was pretty sure that none of them had a sorcerer for a father.

As his mind cleared, Chris realized that, whoever had sent the fell spirit, had thought Chris human. Anyone who knew what Chris really was, would have known that the attack on his heart wouldn't kill him. Whoever t'is has no fear o' usin' the black arts. I'll need tah find him, or he'll surely try again, Chris thought grimly. Perhaps Ellen could sniff the killer out. Chris felt that his heart might stop again as a horrible realization struck him. The bastard may not o' been tryin' tah kill me! He could o' been after Ellen. Oh, but for yer sweet stubbornness, Ellen lass, ye could o' been the one tah open that door! Chris snatched up the room phone, and quickly dialed.

After so many years, Chris didn't lose his temper over attempts on his life. He had outlived more enemies than he could count. Attempts to harm his friends were another matter.

It was approaching noon when Drake finished briefing the thugs on his plan. Jeff had performed a reconnaissance, and determined that the target had not ridden his bike to school. That had nearly tossed a wrench into the works, but Jeff had learned from a loose-lipped reporter that the boy had ridden with his sister.

The necessary modifications had been made to the plan, and everyone knew their positions. Mike would lead six soldiers in the main ambush. Sophia would take the remaining thug, and secure the insurance. Now came what Drake considered the difficult part.

Drake took a large oak box from his luggage.

"As I have explained, our target is a superb martial artist. He crippled three opponents, one of them armed, in mere seconds. I have also explained that he is of no value to me dead. Fortunately, he has an eccentric Achilles' heel, one that I know of, and am prepared to exploit." Drake opened the box.

He took a silver chain out. Hanging from it was a roughly cross-shaped object, also made of silver. One side of the crossbar was thicker than the other, and the top and the other side of the crossbar tapered to points. The object looked a little like a flat hammer.

"Our target has a strong psychological aversion to this symbol. He will be unable to attack or approach anyone displaying it."

"Hey, Mr. D, should we bring some garlic too?" one of the thugs asked, smiling. The question triggered gruff laughter among the gangsters.

"You may bring an entire herb garden, if you wish, but this symbol is what you may rely upon." Drake didn't like to be laughed at. The foolish Sicilian asshole could be taken care of later. "We do not need to understand the weaknesses of the boy's mind in order to exploit them." Drake wasn't about to tell them that these enchanted amulets would repel magical creatures, and deflect their powers. They would have thought Drake was crazy. Their tiny minds were closed to the truths of the universe. The simple fact was that, without the talismans, the Hetsiuib's emotion warping powers would turn them into terror-stricken blobs, and his talent for ruthless combat would turn them into corpses.

Carver put a talisman on without complaint. Then, the two Marcelli siblings put them on. Then, the rest of the mafiosi fell into line. Drake put one on to show that he wasn't asking them to do anything he was afraid to do, even though the three powerful talismans he wore under his shirt would offer him far more protection than the simple amulet.

"Remember, don't let him see the necklaces until you spring the ambush," the sorcerer advised. "We don't want to spook him."

Kelly spent the morning learning a ritual for sanctifying places and objects, and a basic ritual of healing. Ellen was a patient and thorough teacher, and Kelly learned quickly. At noon, Ellen decided to break for lunch. Kelly asked to cook lunch, to repay her aunt for the sorcery lessons.

They were sitting at the kitchen table, eating grilled cheese sandwiches, potato puffs, and sweet pickles when the phone rang. Kelly got up and answered the extension next to the refrigerator.

"Hello, this is the Wilkes residence, Kelly speaking."

"Could I speak tah Ellen, lass," Chris asked urgently.

"Of course, just a sec," Kelly told her aunt's friend. "It's for you, Aunt Ellen. It's your friend, he sounds upset." Ellen stood and took the phone.

"Hello, Chris. What's wrong?"

"I've been attacked by a spirit o' dark sorcery. I think the attack may've been meant for ye. Guard yerself and yer family. I'll be along as soon as I can hire a cab."

"I understand," Ellen answered as calmly as she could manage. "I'll do as ye say. Brighid watch o'er us all." The sorceress heard the phone hang up. Her hand was shaking when she hung up. I've not had a premonition o' danger for Chris, or me. Why would I not? If someone wanted to kill Ellen, and they knew that she was a sorceress, they could be blocking her premonitions. Of course, premonitions didn't always come. If they were absolutely reliable, Ellen's great-aunt would have known not to eat the oysters that killed her.

"Kelly, I'd like yer help tah cast a warding ritual."

"What's wrong?" Kelly asked, alarmed. "Why do we need protection from magic?"

"Someone sent a spirit tah kill Chris. He's worried that whoever 'tis, may be tryin' tah kill me." The two women hurried to the living room. "Even if none o' us is the target, such murderous spirits are hard tah control precisely. They can attack anyone near their true target, an' some who call upon such dark power have been attacked and killed themselves."

Ellen opened her ritual case, and removed her Luis wand. Luis, or L, was the second letter of the Ogham alphabet. Each letter of the Ogham was also the name of a tree, or shrub. Luis, called Rowan in English, was the tree of protection. The sorceress handed the wand to her niece, and showed her how to draw the letter.

"Go about the house and draw Luis on every door and window, lass," Ellen instructed. "I'll start the chant." Once that ritual was completed, Ellen would call a guardian spirit. The protection of Luis alone would be enough to guard against most black magic, but Ellen didn't want to take any chances.

She had given Kelly the wand, because the drawing of the symbols was a simple task that the fledgling sorceress could learn in a hurry. She also gave her that task so that Kelly would be the one holding the Luis wand. It was made of rowan wood, and was a powerful protective talisman by itself. It would be an additional layer of protection for its holder.

When Joshua arrived at his usual table for lunch, he found two people already seated there. One was Henry. The other was Sara. He was pleasantly surprised to see that they were conversing peacefully. The last time they had spoken, Sara had called Henry 'a blind little geek' and Henry had called Sara 'the town pump'. Sara was the first to see Joshua.

"Here's Joshua," she told Henry. Greetings were exchanged.

"I'm glad to see the two of you gettin' along." Joshua said.

"Yes, well, I've been terrible unfair to Henry, but he was kind enough to forgive me," Sara said sweetly. Henry looked down nervously.

"Um, yeah," he said. "Sara apologized." Joshua wondered at Henry's reaction. Then, he saw a trace of Sara's lipstick on Henry's mouth. Joshua smiled. He knew that Henry and Sara had never gotten along. Sara had considered the skinny, intelligent boy to be beneath her notice. Henry had thought of Sara as a selfish, stupid, little football slut, but, like any breathing teenaged boy, he found Sara very attractive. Now, apparently, the feeling was mutual.

"It's about time that you two buried the hatchet," Joshua said with a grin. That's the first good thing to happen since I got to school this morning. Maybe things will get better from here.

"As much as I hate to change the subject, I heard some bad news in second period," Henry said, his smile replaced with a serious frown. "Joey Garner died last night."

A part of Joshua felt shock and grief for the dead boy, and his family. Another part accepted the information to mean that enemy forces had been reduced permanently by one. It also began to calculate the possible effects the loss might have on the morale of remaining enemy forces. Based upon available intelligence, there were two possible reactions. First, the enemy might be angered, and choose to retaliate, possibly with their numbers augmented from family members of the dead enemy. Second, their morale might be broken by his display of strength. The first possibility seemed more likely. One victory might be seen as a fluke. It would take two or more to convince the enemy to back off. Joshua was unpleasantly surprised by the cold and ruthless direction his thoughts were going. It was as much of a shock to realize that his ability to think and react in emergencies came from the same dark source.

Henry saw the pain his news had brought write itself across his friends face. Then, he saw Joshua's face go blank for a few seconds. Joshua looked as he had when Henry had arrived in the music room with the building administrator and the police officer. The memory sent chills up Henry's spine.

"Are you okay, man?" Henry asked.

"I'm doing better than Joey, wouldn't you say?" Joshua said with calm that Henry recognized as false.

"Look, Joshua, if you need to talk to someone, you know I'm here."

"Yes," Joshua answered. "Thank you for your concern, but this is neither the time nor the place."

"You could come over to our house after school," Sara suggested. "You could ride with Joshua and me." Henry looked to his friend.

"You would be welcome, of course." Joshua said.

"Okay, I'll call home when I'm done eatin'," the skinny boy said. You can count on me.

To everyone's surprise, Miss Holden appeared moments later.

"Mr. Ward, you and I need to discuss your performance on your quiz today," the teacher said, with a trace anger in her voice. Oh, no! Joshua thought. I had my mind on avoiding sexual thoughts, and I didn't think about monitoring my answers! I've never let myself ace an English test before! She must think that I cheated!

"Come with me, young man." Joshua had no choice but to follow his teacher.

"See y'all after school," he said to Henry and Sara.

Ms. Holden led Joshua to Petersen Hall, but instead of leading him to her English room on the second floor, she took Joshua to Building Administrator Fulton's office. Each BA was a sort of junior principal. They had the authority to hand out punishments up to short term suspension. Joshua did not consider it a good sign that Ms. Holden was bringing him here. She must be convinced that I cheated! How can I prove that I didn't? 'Golly Mr. Fulton, I've just been faking ignorance for my entire school career!' Yeah, they'll buy that one, when pigs fly.

Joshua had never been in a BA's office. He was surprised by how spacious it was. There was a front office, with a metal desk that probably dated to sometime before The Second World War, with matching office chair. A bench was built into one of the walls, and there were two filing cabinets. There was a door to the left of the desk. Ms. Holden walked through without knocking. Joshua followed to find Mr. Fulton's office. There was an attractive Asian rug on the floor, a large, but tidy desk, two overstuffed chairs, and there was a sofa against one wall. There were bookshelves and a small fridge. There were all of these things, but no BA Fulton.