*****
Mandy
Mandy glanced around the little group assembled on the gravel shore in front of the queen's palace. There were four highly trained combat witches, Queen Boudicca, Magnus, Larry Rand—her boss from the PBA—and Greg, who held her hand tightly. Everyone else had been sent away. Mandy didn't want the distractions and Boudicca, Mandy felt, didn't want more witnesses.
It was early on a Tuesday morning, with a gray sky that promised rain, and a chill wind that rattled the branches of the Douglas firs—a typical Seattle spring day. She couldn't see the I-90 bridge from here, but she could hear the muted roar of the morning rush hour traffic. High above, the shrill cries of the seagulls seemed to be a warning of trouble to come.
Mandy shivered a little despite the warmth of the dry-suit she wore. She didn't know if she'd be strong enough to take them all the way to Dormolon's lair. They could wind up under the icy, ocean waters of Puget Sound, so everyone wore dry-suits, which provided even more thermal protection than wet-suits, complete with hoods and booties, and scuba tanks. Mandy felt miserable, and the others didn't look happy either. She'd better conquer her fears and get this rescue on the road.
She squeezed Greg's hand and felt the power flowing into her from her new husband, a heady current of magic and love. She hadn't expected that. She'd never dreamed that the joining would let her feel Greg's love for her as strongly as she felt the flow of his magic. Their night of intimacy and the exchange of magic had left Greg's wound completely healed. There wasn't even a scar to show where the squid had torn into his chest with its tentacle.
Larry came to stand beside her. Mandy felt grateful for his support.
"This isn't exactly how I meant for your first assignment to go," her boss said. "I'd hoped you could start slowly and build your experience."
"No choice this time," Mandy told him.
"I'll look after her for you," Greg promised.
Larry smiled. "Or maybe she'll look after you," he said, and then he stepped away as Boudicca came forward with a soft rustle of cloth.
"What did he mean by that?" Greg muttered.
"Don't know," Mandy said. Was Larry having another of his visions?
But there was no time to question Larry. The queen unbuttoned the LL Bean parka she wore and drew a necklace out from beneath her cashmere turtleneck.
"I have something for you, granddaughter," Boudicca said as she pulled the a fine chain of silver over her head.
Oh, yeah. Being married to Greg did make her the queen's granddaughter. This could be really awkward. In the future. If she had a future.
Boudicca held out a small, moonstone pendant that hung on the silver chain.
"Wear this," she said. "It was made by Merlin, the original Merlin, founder of our line." She handed the necklace to Mandy as if she were conferring a great treasure.
Mandy took the pendant and held it in her hand. She glanced at Greg, but he looked as puzzled as she felt. Yes, if Merlin had made it, it was a treasure; but it felt cool, inert, just a pretty stone. No sense of magic at all. And why give it to her now?
"What does it do?" Mandy asked Boudicca.
"It provides answers," the queen said, and Mandy thought she heard just the smallest tremble in that cool voice. "But only if you ask the correct question."
"Okay. Umm. Thanks, your majesty."
Mandy didn't see how it was going to do them any good today, but maybe eventually she'd find a use for it. She had to take off her goggles and hood and unzip her suit so she could slide the chain over head. She slipped the pendant down inside her suit and felt the moonstone snuggle between her breasts, just level with her heart. It warmed almost at once. She put her gear back on, donned her face mask, and glanced around one last time.
"Okay, everybody hold hands with the person next to them," she said, trying to sound confident.
"You can do it," Greg said quietly. "I'm backing you all the way, babe."
Mandy smiled gratefully, and then she and the others put the mouthpieces of their scuba gear in their mouths and joined hands. A big juicy kiss would be so not appropriate, and not to mention impossible with all this gear on.
But how was she going to zoom in on Prince Dormolon's hiding place? Especially, when she was carrying so many people?
"Follow your blood," said a voice inside her head. Mandy jumped, startled. The voice was male, the deep timber that of an older man. Merlin's voice?
The queen was watching her closely. Was this what Boudicca had meant by providing answers? But the voice said nothing more. Apparently, that wasn't the right question. Follow her blood. Witch's blood was potent stuff, true enough. Not always as potent as Greg's, but still full of magic. Abigail, Mandy realized. The pendant meant that she should look for her great-aunt, home in on her magic. So be it.
Mandy closed her eyes, the better to concentrate. She shut out the sound of the wind in the Douglas firs, the sound of the waves splashing on the gravel shore, shut out the noise of the traffic going over the I-90 bridge. She sensed the blue glow of magic all around her. Her mage-sense showed her the silver threads that spun from one witch to another. The more closely related the witches, the stronger the lines. The bond between Greg and his grandparents was as thick as her arm. But she wanted Abigail. Her mother's mother's sister, a witch of her own bloodline. Yet, Abigail was a stranger, a woman whom she'd only just met. The connection between them was just a faint trail of silver, a line no thicker than her little finger that swirled off into the distance across Lake Washington, over the Seattle skyline, and then plunged deep into the cold, saltwater of Puget Sound. Yes, she had it. She could follow this link.
Mandy drew in power, feeling Greg's magic fill her in a warm rush. Would this be okay? He wasn't going to try to steer her like a transport truck? But no, the only will she felt was her own; her own will backed by a warm, loving presence. But now was no time to explore these new feelings. She had to get this strike force into position.
She clamped her teeth on the mouthpiece of her scuba gear, took a deep breath, and reached. It felt like she stretched in a direction she could not name, she reached farther, lifted more. It was a heady feeling—Greg's strength added to her own talents. Mandy seized the silver thread that bound her to her great-aunt and flowed along it, taking Greg and the four combat witches with her. As she left, she thought she heard a sob. From icy Boudicca? No never. But then why would Magnus say, "They'll be alright, darling."