Circles of Seven

  Shiloh stood and sniffed in a deep breath. “Then I go to the statue and pump the water to wash my face and arms and eat the plant. After my cramps, I wander around until the sun sets and the air turns cold. I make my nest again and curl up in the alley until I fall asleep.”

  She bowed her head, and a tear dripped to the porch. She hugged herself with both arms, and her voice quaked. “But . . . but I have all I really need.”

  Bonnie placed a gentle hand on Shiloh’s back and glanced around the feed store’s porch. “If only I could find a board, something flat and solid.” She reached up and grabbed the hanging sign, lifting her full weight and dangling with it. The frayed support rope snapped, and with a quick flap of her wings, she landed softly with the sign in hand. “I have an idea.” She propped the sign on end. “Have you ever tried to block the light in the doorway?”

  Shiloh wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Sure. You saw what it did to the stave. It kicks like a mule.”

  “Does it make a gap in the energy field?”

  “Uh-huh. But since the field always yanks anything out of my hand, the gap only lasts a second. I never could see anything on the other side.” She rubbed the heel of her hand with her fingers. “The jolt hurts so much, it gets pretty discouraging. I just quit trying.”

  Bonnie patted the top edge of the sign with her hand. “How about if I push this in while you try to look through the gap? I’m willing to take a jolt.”

  Shiloh shook her head. “Not like this one. The shock will make your split ends have split ends.”

  Bonnie curled her fingers into a ball. “I’ve been crushed inside the fist of an electric monster. I doubt anything could be worse than that.”

  “An electric monster?”

  Bonnie laid the sign on its longer edge. “I’ll explain later. I’m going to slide this through, so you’ll have to get on your knees to look. If it’s as bad as you say, we may have only a second or two before this thing gets kicked out of my hands.”

  “Well . . . if you’re sure.” Shiloh dropped to her knees, bending over until her nose nearly touched the dusty wooden planks. “I’m ready. Don’t let it smack me on the head!”

  Bonnie pushed the sign up to the edge of the doorway. “I’ll brace the side with my foot so it doesn’t kick back. Be ready to duck, just in case.”

  “Okay.”

  Bonnie gripped the sign with both hands. With a quick thrust, she slid the sign forward, blocking the bottom third of the doorway’s light field. Immediately, a tremendous rush of energy surged through her body. She gritted her teeth and held on, but the sign kicked up and banged against her head. She fell backwards and landed on the porch with a loud grunt.

  Shiloh rushed to her side. “Are you okay?”

  Bonnie propped herself on one elbow and rubbed her forehead. “I think so.” She brought her fingers down to check for blood. “That’s the second time I’ve been smacked there today.” She sat up, rubbing her head again. “Did you see anything?”

  Shiloh’s face had turned pale, and she nodded slowly, her eyes glazed. “I saw my tree.”

  “Your tree?”

  She nodded again. “It’s an oak tree I used to climb at home near a big hill. It looks a little different now, but I’d never forget my tree. It’s where we were having my birthday party when ‘Morticia’ and her gang kidnapped me.”

  Bonnie grabbed Shiloh’s hand. “So this is the way home for you!”

  A man reading a newspaper passed by and disappeared through the door. Shiloh pulled her hand away from Bonnie’s. “A lot of good it does me. I can’t get there from here.”

  “What if I—” Bonnie clutched her chest.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “My heart. It’s beating funny.” She gasped, taking in short, quick breaths.

  “Must’ve been that jolt. I told you it was a brute.”

  Bonnie took a deeper breath. “Whew! It’s better now.” She braced herself with her hands and stood up, holding her palm on her head again. “I’m dizzy, too. I felt like I was back in that monster’s fist.” She picked up the sign and propped it on its short end. “As I was about to say, what if I hold the board up there vertically? That’ll open it enough for you to jump through.”

  “Maybe. But it’ll put you closer to the field. It might knock you clear across the street!”

  Bonnie tapped her shoe on the porch floor. “You’ve been here forty years. Don’t you want to go home?”

  “Part of me does. I miss my mum and dad, but what if they’re dead? What if everyone I know is dead? And will I still be fifteen if I go home? Or will I be over fifty?” She turned and faced the street as two policemen passed by, swinging batons on thin ropes. “Part of me just wants to stay here. You may not believe it, but I’ve actually gotten used to it.”

  Bonnie put a hand on her hip. “You’re right. I don’t believe it. I saw you crying.”

  Shiloh spun back, her face glowing red. “Living in the other world was no picnic, either!” She let out a long breath and laid her hand on the edge of the sign. “Look, my father was always hiding, always running from something. We moved all over England, and I hated it. One day, I heard him and Mum talking, and I figured out they were running away to protect me.” She sniffed, and a tear emerged as her voice cracked. “I prayed and prayed that God would just take me someplace no one would ever find me, that He would somehow show me how to stop whoever was chasing us.” She wiped away the tear and sniffed again, letting out an uneasy laugh. “I guess I got my wish, didn’t I?”

  “But why was someone chasing you?”

  Shiloh looked out at the street again. “Well . . . I’m different.”

  “Different? How?”

  Shiloh propped her elbow on the sign and shook her head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Me? Not understand ‘different’?” Bonnie laughed. “Listen, sister. I’ve been hiding dragon wings in a backpack for years. I know about ‘different.’”

  Shiloh lowered her head. “And I guess kids laugh at the scales on your face, right? That must be awful.”

  Bonnie’s heart fluttered, and a tingling sensation ran up her spine. “Yeah. . . . The scales.”

  The two policemen passed by again followed by a man carrying a bucket. The trailing man looked at Bonnie and quickly turned his face away.

  Bonnie’s mouth dropped open.

  Shiloh squinted. “What’s wrong?”

  Bonnie gave a slight nod with her head and whispered. “Did you see that guy with the bucket?”

  Shiloh lowered her voice. “What about him?”

  “Have you ever seen him before?”

  “Yeah, but only recently. Why?”

  Bonnie wrapped her fingers around Shiloh’s wrist. “I could have sworn he looked at me. I mean, he looked right at me, but only for a second.”

  Shiloh’s eyes shifted toward the street, but she didn’t turn her head. She stretched out her words, her lips barely moving. “Okay. . . . That’s different.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “I have an idea.”

  “What?”

  Shiloh cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted. “Hey, you! What’s the matter? Never seen a girl with dragon wings before?”

  The man jerked his head around, alarm flashing across his face. He dropped the bucket and dashed away, turning onto a side street and out of sight.

  Bonnie jumped down the steps, and with a mighty flap, she leaped into the air. Within seconds, she was soaring over the buildings and descending toward the narrow street where the man had disappeared. Dozens of phantom people lined the sidewalk in front of a theatre, apparently waiting for the show to begin. Strangely enough, there were no young children. Every man and woman seemed to be at least eighteen years old, maybe older.

  Bonnie pulled up and made another circle, then dove to the street and landed with a trot. The man who had been spying on her was likely posing as one of the moviegoers, but how could she tell which one? She had only c
aught a glimpse of him. He was wearing black, but so was just about everyone in line.

  She hurried to the box office window and stomped on the toes of the first man in line. No reaction. Watching the eyes of the thirty or so people behind him, she methodically tromped on the foot of each male. After eight hefty stomps, a man near the back stepped out and drew a sword. “Back off, Dragon Girl! Just let me go on my way, and I won’t hurt you.”

  “Not before I get some answers!” Bonnie crossed her arms over her chest. “Who are you?”

  The man snorted. “Oh, you’re a brave one . . . for a girl, that is.”

  In a flurry of feet and wings, Bonnie lunged into the air, then cut a tight circle back toward the man. She swooped behind him, snatched his collar, and lifted him high above the road. “Talk fast,” she yelled, “before my grip gets too weak. I’m just a girl, you know.”

  The man tried to swing his sword behind him, but to no avail. “Go ahead, Demon Witch!” he shouted. “Drop me! See if I care!”

  She glided down and dropped him from about eight feet above the road. He hit the ground feet first and tumbled over, dropping his sword and planting his face in the cobblestones.

  Bonnie landed and grabbed his weapon. She leaped on his back and pressed the sword’s tip into his scalp. “Are you ready to talk now? I’m pretty good with a sword . . . for a girl.”

  The man raised his hands. “Okay, okay! I get the point! Don’t rub it in.”

  “I’m going to let you go, but don’t try anything.” Bonnie released him and flew several feet away. She then rammed the blade into a crease between two stones. “You’re a slayer, aren’t you?”

  He brushed off his clothes. “Your brilliance is exceeded only by your arrogance.” He lifted his head and grimaced. “Or your ugliness.”

  Bonnie plucked the sword from the street. “Have you ever heard the word ‘impertinence’?”

  “Many times, from my master . . . and my mistress.”

  She gripped the hilt tightly. “You’re Palin, aren’t you? You look a lot like a picture a friend of mine drew.”

  Palin reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. “So you recognize me, do you? They say that dead men tell no tales, but it seems there are no secrets in Hades.”

  “Hades?” Bonnie tilted her head. “What are you talking about?”

  Palin wiped a smudge from his chin. “I see that you’re ignorant as well as arrogant. Didn’t your brilliant professor tell you that the circles are the seven levels of Hades?”

  “He mentioned something about the afterlife, but he never finished.”

  Palin rolled his eyes. “Oh . . . I see. He never finished. How convenient.”

  Bonnie balled her hand into a fist. “If you’re so smart, what are you doing here?”

  “I’m supposed to be here. I’m dead. And I was assigned to keep an eye on a prisoner.”

  Bonnie rested the sword on the cobblestones. “Shiloh? Why?”

  “The invisible spirits that roam these streets at night take notice of sleeping little girls.” He folded his handkerchief and stuffed it into his pocket. “My mistress takes very good care of Shiloh.”

  “Yeah, right. One tiny meal a day that makes her cramp up. I’d hate to see what bad care looks like.”

  “If you’re referring to that silly little plant,” Palin spat on the ground, “I was told that Merlin conjured it up the day Shiloh arrived.” A column of black smoke erupted around his feet. “My mistress offered her a royal banquet, but she refused it.” The smoke rose above his head, enveloping his body. “It looks like my mistress has come to take me away, but I’m sure I’ll be back for my guard duty tonight. Cheerio!” The black cloud suddenly dispersed, and Palin was gone.

  Bonnie flapped her wings slowly, lifting her feet off the ground. Still carrying the sword, she propelled herself high into the air. As long as I’m airborne, I’ll take a quick look around. It was pretty dark when I got here. Maybe there’s a way out I couldn’t see before.

  She rocketed higher, surveying the land from horizon to horizon. The ground curved sharply, bending until it met a transparent barrier on all sides, as though the whole world was a ball that had been jammed into a glass cylinder. Higher up, the sky seemed to narrow to a tube, but as she flew to investigate, she met thinner air, making it hard to breathe. She beat her wings rapidly and stared at the mirror-like dome surrounding her. The reflection of her upright figure grabbed her gaze. Bonnie’s image was strong and shapely, yet the horrible scales on her face seemed to glow, pulsing in time with her throbbing heart.

  Bonnie gasped, but the thin air starved her lungs. She collapsed her wings and dropped, spreading her arms out in free fall. She closed her eyes to chase her reflection from her mind. It was hideous! But she had to shoo it away. It wasn’t real. It was just a perception. It was . . .

  A tear squeezed past her eyelid and trickled down her cheek. She sniffed and wiped it away.

  Extending her wings again, Bonnie slowed her descent. As she settled on the cobblestones, she pulled to a stop at the statue in the town square. The shadow of her wing covered the poem on the base except for the final two lines. “Contentment holds eternal keys to days of peace that never pass.”

  With the sword in hand, Bonnie ran toward the feed store, where Shiloh stood at the top of the porch steps. Suddenly breathless, Bonnie halted a dozen yards short. Her knees buckled. She dropped to her seat and clutched her chest.

  Shiloh ran out to the street. “Bonnie! What’s wrong?”

  Bonnie took several short breaths before trying to speak. “I think it’s . . . it’s my heart again. Flying must have . . . taken a lot out of me.”

  Shiloh pushed her shoulder under Bonnie’s arm. “Come on. Let’s get you out of the wind.”

  Bonnie leaned on Shiloh as she hobbled back to the porch. Once there, they both sat cross-legged near the portal. “Let’s just rest,” Shiloh said. “I think you probably scared that creep half to death. He won’t be back for a while.”

  Bonnie smiled and folded in her wings. “I guess looking like a dragon is good for something.”

  “Well, I think it’s cool. Watching you fly like that was a gas.” Shiloh lowered her head and drew a circle on the dusty porch floor with her finger. “I suppose I spilled the beans about my family. Do you want to hear the whole story?”

  Bonnie drew her knees up and grasped them with both arms. “Sure. I love a good story, and it’ll give me time to recover.”

  Shiloh scooted close to Bonnie. “I love stories, too, but since there’s no one to tell me any, I just make them up and tell my own. I’ve gotten pretty good at storytelling, if I do say so myself.”

  Bonnie lifted her eyebrows. “Really. You’re a good storyteller?”

  “Yes. What’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing. It just seems like we have so much in common.”

  Shiloh’s smile trembled. “If you say so.” She fingered the hem on her borrowed tee shirt and draped it over her bare legs. “Anyway, some of the story isn’t mine. My dad told me the first part, because it happened way before I was born.”

  Bonnie pulled her knees closer to her chest and rested her chin on top. “Okay. Let’s hear it.”

  Chapter 17

  SHILOH’S STORY

  Shiloh wrapped her arms around her knees and rocked back and forth, her eyes rolling upward. “It all started about fifteen hundred years ago . . .

  Merlin pulled an oar silently through the murky water, sitting low in the dugout canoe. He whispered, “Valcor, if we want to save the king, surprise is our only hope. We must keep our heads and our voices down.”

  The crisp air carried the sound of crickets across the water along with the melody of tree leaves rustling in the gentle wind. Merlin gazed at the sky, picking out the stars and drawing the constellation lines. “King Arthur’s chariot,” he whispered. “He guides us to the southern shore.”

  At the rear of the boat Valcor patted the ornate hilt of a splendi
d sword. “We have Excalibur, but I think I would prefer a chariot right now.” He dipped his oar into the moat and pushed against the shallow bottom. “Are we nearing the serpents?”

  “Yes,” Merlin said, drawing in his oar. “I hope our momentum will carry us past their nests. Keep your arms well inside, and I will sing.”

  Valcor raised the sword. “Shall I summon your audience? I prefer raising a battle hymn for slashing their throats to crooning a lullaby that keeps them tucked in their beds.”

  Merlin chuckled. “You have no idea what we’re up against, my friend. And you’re not yet familiar with how to use Excalibur’s power.” The old man rolled up the wet sleeves of his scarlet robe and gripped the edge of the canoe. Beginning with a low hum, he closed his eyes and sang a haunting melody.

  Thou servants of the blackest soul,

  Asleep in Av’lon’s shallow bowl,

  Wake not as skies above thee break

  With ripples sounding in our wake.

  While sleep enfolds you in your lair,

  We pass you by without a care.

  So in your dreams protect her doors,

  While safely we approach her shores.

  The canoe drifted slowly across the grass-coated water, both men staring hard at the black surface.

  Valcor whispered, “I thought you were going to say, ‘While praying for your lasting snores.’”

  “Shhh!” Merlin scolded.

  A tiny splash broke the silence. Merlin spun toward the sound. Valcor raised his sword. The moon reflected on the dark water, tiny waves rippling the white disk.

  “A frog,” Valcor whispered.

  Merlin nodded, sweat streaming down his cheeks.

  The boat slowed to a stop. “Not quite enough,” Merlin whispered. “Two more strokes, and we will pass their nests.” With a surgeon’s care, he slid his paddle into the marsh and pulled against the water. The boat started forward and coasted across the grassy surface. Merlin pulled again, but when he lifted the oar, a scaly tentacle looped around the wood and jerked it into the water. A fanged, gaping mouth shot above the surface and flew toward Merlin.