"So why couldn't Cassandra just lift the curse?" I pointed out.
"Even some spells are outside her ability to control," the vampire told me. "Spells have rules, conditions that must be met in order for them to be enacted or lifted. The rule for this curse is that true love must break it."
"After so long why did my mother only recently wish to atone for her curse?" Erik asked Methuselah.
A sneer appeared on Methuselah's lips. "Her human compassion overrode her better senses. There were also complications she did not foresee."
"The dying earth," I guessed.
He nodded. "Yes. She felt regret for cursing the werewolves to extinction, and for the death of the land on which they dwelt."
Marge stood up and her eyes swept over us. "I've heard a lot of talk but not a lot about how were going to save the captain the crew and all the islands question," she pointed out.
"I must concur with the lady," Greg spoke up. "We have answered questions except those that are most important."
"Maybe we haven't," I argued. "Maybe we can get Cassandra to wave her hands and work her magic against Blackwood."
Methuselah shook his head. "She will not use her magic against him."
My face drooped. "Why not?"
"Because she no longer wishes to meddle in the affairs of werewolves beyond what she's capable of in her current form," Methuselah explained.
I threw up my arms. "So she's just going to let us all get killed?"
Methuselah's eyes turned to Erik. "She wishes to pass on the responsibility to a new generation, one that is not tainted by sin and death."
Erik raised an eyebrow. "We have tried much and succeeded at very little without the use of magic. How can she expect us to succeed now?" he wondered.
"She does not expect you to succeed without magic," Methuselah argued. "She expects you to use magic to the benefit of all."
CHAPTER 8
"Okay, that makes no sense," I spoke up. I held out my empty hands. "We don't have anything except her journal, this witch-" I gestured to Hazel, "-and some beans she gave me."
Methuselah raised an eyebrow. "Beans? Show me these beans."
I shrugged and rummaged through my pockets until I found the bag. "These kind of beans," I told him as a revealed the bag for all to see.
Methuselah's eyes fell on the bag and they widened. "Those will be very useful in your coming fight."
I frowned. "You're going to tell me they're magic beans, aren't you?"
He bowed his head. "I am."
"So what are they capable of?" I questioned him.
"They are capable of the powers of the one who holds them," he replied.
I threw up my arms and nearly tossed the bag into the woods. "Could you please start making some sense?" I growled at him.
"I believe what our undead friend is trying to say is that the one who wields the beans decides their power," Greg suggested.
"Yeah, that still doesn't make any sense. What are they going to do, give someone gas?" I wondered.
Greg rubbed his chin in one hand and furrowed his brow. "They are unpredictable. That may be an outcome."
I cringed. "That'd be a horrible way to kill someone."
"But what of my ability to use magic?" Erik spoke up. "I have no such skills, and I don't believe beans will ensure our victory against my cousin."
Methuselah nodded at Hazel. "She will assist you."
I snorted. "I don't think she's sleeping beauties going to be teaching anybody anytime soon."
Methuselah raised a hand and snapped his fingers. Hazel's eyes fluttered open and she rose to a seated position. She clutched her head and grimaced.
"By all the gods, what-" Her befuddled eyes fell on our staring faces. She whipped her head from side to side and her gaze stopped on Methuselah. Her eyes narrowed, and her lips slid back in a scow. "You," she growled. "What business is it of yours to attack me and drag me here against my will?"
"It's our business that you help us," Erik spoke up.
Hazel attention turned to him and her sneer was no less full of disgust. "Whatever trouble you found yourself in is none of my concern," she argued as her eyes fell on his jacket. "I only wish to have that little memento of my beloved teacher that you so selfishly hold to yourself."
"You will now be the teacher," Methuselah told her.
Hazel raised an eyebrow. "What benefit is it of mine to help any of you? Our last arrangement gave me nothing but trouble with my clients."
I snorted. "With clients like those who needs competition?"
"If you help us we won't kill you," Marge told Hazel.
The witch scoffed. "As though that was possible."
Marge jerked her head towards Methuselah. "I bet he could do it, and I wouldn't be one to stop him."
Hazel cringed, and her eyes flickered to Erik. "How am I expected to help any of you? The ability to cast magic is not contained within everyone."
Erik stood from his seat and walked over to Hazel's stone bench so that he stood before her. "I am the son of Cassandra, the witch who wrote the journal you so desperately desire."
Hazel's eyes widened and her mouth dropped slightly open. She studied Erik up and down. Her voice came out in a hushed whisper. "You. . .you are a son to Sandra?"
"If that is the name of the witch who cast the spell of the fog and the curse, then I am," Erik affirmed.
Hazel reached out a shaking hand and grabbed the lower part of his shirt. She looked him in the eyes and I could see there were tears in them. "Then. . .then she is alive?"
Erik nodded. "For now, but we need your help to save her and all other werewolves on the islands."
Hazel shook her head. "I don't care about the rest of them and I don't care about the werewolves. I only care that Sandra is still alive. I thought she had been killed by one of her own spells."
"A ruse to fool you so you would not go looking for her," Greg spoke up.
Hazel looked past Erik and at the servant. "What do you know this?" she questioned him.
Erik turned to Greg and raised an eyebrow. "You have not told us your full part in this," he reminded him.
Greg closed his eyes and bowed his head. "My apologies, my Master. As I said before, I was under oath from My Lady and thus I could not speak freely."
"And now you will break that oath?" Erik asked him.
Greg gave a nod. "I will because the circumstances under which I took the oath have changed, and I believe My Lady would wish me to tell you." He gestured to the stone benches. "If you would all take a seat." We all obeyed him except Methuselah. Greg turned his attention to the vampire. "You, also, I believe, would benefit from being seated." Methuselah raised an eyebrow, but he obeyed and took a seat on the opposite side of the pit from us.
Greg took center stage in the middle of the circle of stones and gestured to Methuselah. "What our friend told you of My Lady Cassandra is true. She is the witch who brought the spell of the fog and the curse of the barrenness to our people the werewolves. Several centuries passed and she watched the werewolves struggle to retain our population. She also noticed that her curse settled deeper than our bodies. It sank into the very soil of our islands. The soil and the lake were drained of life. Plants died and fish did not reproduce. The desolation fell over the lands, and My Lady saw this and was horrified by what she had done. She took it upon herself to lift the curse, and so she left her magic behind and wed herself to the chief of the werewolves. She thought that surely he could be the one whom she could love the most and who could lift the curse on his people. Unfortunately, she found her deceit in bonding with him meant she herself could not lift the curse, and so she waited. A son was born to her in whom she hoped he could do what she could not."
Erik frowned. "How does she expect me to lift the curse?"
Greg's eyes fell on me. "She knew her abilitiy to cast magic would be passed on to you and you might use it, but she had only hope until Sophie came."
All eyes turned to me and I shru
gged and shook my head. "Don't look at me. I have no idea what to do, either. Besides, we're not exactly the most willing couple."
"My Lady Cassandra hopes that such a difficult beginning will ensure a more solid union at the end," Greg explained.
I tilted my head to one side and frowned. "So what would happen if we decided to go carries route and split up?" I asked him.
Greg closed his eyes and shook his head. "The consequences would be catastrophic for our people."
I jumped to my feet and my voice came out higher and louder than I intended. "What the hell? We're supposed to somehow love each other so we can save a bunch of werewolves who've tried to kill us?"
Greg smiled. I could've socked him right then and there. "I believe that your combined stubbornness would be able to save the world. The small islands on Wolf Lake are in the best of hands."
"This sounds like just a lot more jabbering that isn't getting us anywhere," Marge spoke up. "All of you are talking while my captain could be dead or worse, like those monsters that girl was using against us." She kicked Carey's limp body for emphasis.
Hazel snorted and waved her hand. "That can be undone with a simple spell." Everyone's surprised eyes turned to her and she glared back at us. "What? It is possible."
Marge crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine, it's possible, but how are we going to do anything from here and how long is it going to take for her-" Marge nodded at Hazel, "-to teach him-" She looked to Erik, "-how to do all these spells we might need?"
Hazel's eyes fell on Erik and she rubbed her chin. "If he has the ability to be a warlock than I shouldn't have any problem teaching him."
"And if he doesn't?" I spoke up.
She shrugged. "Then he has no abilities and I'm unable to teach him."
Erik bowed his head to her. "I promise to be a quick student."
Hazel jumped to her feet and pushed past him to the pit with its unburned wood. "Then let's get started."
"This better not take long. . ." I heard Marge mutter.
I stepped forward and opened my mouth, but Greg slipped behind me and caught my shoulder. He pulled me away from the circle of stones and the pit. I glanced over my shoulder and glared at him.
"What's the big idea?" I growled.
"Faith will ensure his victory, but doubt will fuel our foes," Greg philosophized.
I rolled my eyes. "But this is nuts," I hissed. "We don't have time for Erik to learn how to pull rabbits out of a hat."
Greg turned his face so his eyes fell on Erik. Erik stood beside Hazel who was hunched over the pit. Marge sat nearby and scowled at the pair. Methuselah watched the tutoring from just outside the ring of stones.
Greg's voice was soft, but firm. "We have precious few options before us. We must try this one and hope it succeeds. For my part I know he will succeed."
My eyes fell on Erik and I sighed. "I hope you're right."
MOON CHOSEN #7
CHAPTER 1
I had to admit that after seeing so many unbelievable things this was definitely strange to watch.
Our little group of heroes, companions, and annoyances were gathered around the circle of stone benches watching a witch and my werewolf mate as they huddled over a small fire in a deep pit. Greg and I sat beside each other on one of the benches. Methuselah the vampire stood off to one side outside the circle. Marge sat on another stone bench, and at her feet lay our unconscious captive, Carey, my somewhat arch nemesis.
"Does anybody think this is weird?" I asked our little group.
"Quiet," Hazel the witch hissed at me. She tossed in a couple more pieces of firewood to the glowing flames in the center of the pit and her eyes flickered to Erik. "Are you prepared to learn the ways of your mother's kind?"
Erik nodded his head. "I am."
"I'm really serious about this," I insisted as I looked at all their serious faces. "Am I the only one who's ever had a normal life?"
Greg placed a hand on my shoulder and pressed a finger to his lips. I opened my mouth to speak, but he shook his head.
Hazel pulled a small bag out from her cloak and opened the rope ties. She reached inside and picked out a pinch of white powder. "Let me see your hand," she ordered Erik. He held out his palm and she sprinkled a little of the dust into his hand. "I want you to to use this powder to extinguish the fire," she instructed him.
Erik made as though to throw the powder in, but Hazel's eyes widened and she held up her hand. "Not yet!" She stood and hurried around to the opposite side of the benches further away than even where Methuselah stood. "Now you may try," she told him.
Erik frowned. "Why not before?"
"Because if this doesn't work I don't want to be near it," she explained to him.
All of us who sat on the benches glanced at each other and leaned back. Erik pursed his lips, but tossed in a smidgen of the pinch of white powder. There was a loud explosion of flames and a column of fire shot into the air. It probably could have been seen from space. The heat was so intense that I wondered if my eyebrows were still intact. Thankfully, the column was focused within the pit so that even Erik wasn't singed too bad. After a few seconds the flames reverted back to their original short height and intensity.
Marge jumped to her feet and turned her angry eyes on Hazel. "What the hell are you trying to do? Kill us all?"
Hazel sneered at her. "Do not put the blame on me for anyone's incompetence at magic," she snapped back.
"That might have told the whole lake where we are," Marge shot back.
"Then he had better learn quickly," Hazel barked.
"My Lady spoke of a motivation for the magic," Greg spoke up.
Hazel furrowed her brow and tapped her pointed chin with one long finger. "I suppose there is," she admitted.
Marge glared at the witch. "You suppose? Don't you know?"
Hazel narrowed her eyes. "This is my first time teaching the ways to an outsider. It is difficult to remember all of the necessary information to pass onto such a novice."
"I say we go to the Den and have the Lady teach him," Marge suggested.
"That would not be a wise idea," Methuselah spoke up.
"And why not?" Marge snapped at him.
"The Den may have already been taken," he pointed out.
"I say it's worth a look before this hag kills us with her foolishness," Marge insisted.
Erik rose and turned to us. "I will achieve this magic to help all of our friends and the islands. Please just give me time."
Marge pursed her lips, but plopped back down onto the bench. "Fine, but this better not take all night."
Erik turned to Greg. "What motivation did my mother speak of?"
"She spoke of magic as a will of the heart," Greg explained. "Each action is a reaction to how one feels."
"So if you're angry the magic will be evil?" I guessed.
Greg smiled. "Not quite. The more powerful the emotion, the more powerful the magic."
Erik looked down at his hand that held what remained of the powder. "Then I need emotion to stimulate the magic," he surmised.
"That might help," Hazel agreed. She rubbed her chin. "I didn't see feel any emotion when you tossed the powder into the pit."
"But what emotion's the best?" I asked our group. "I mean, should he be angry, or mad, or really mad?"
"The need to protect is the most powerful form of magic," Methuselah spoke up.
Erik pursed his lips and clenched the powder in his fist. "I wish to protect the islands and all who reside there."
Methuselah shook his head. "It is not a need to protect the many, but a need to protect those you know, those whom you truly care about. They cannot be faceless and nameless people."
"But they are my people," Erik insisted.
Methuselah strode over to me and grabbed the back of my collar. He lifted me off the bench and high enough that my feet couldn't reach the ground.
"Hey! What are you doing?" I yelled at him. He carried me over to the pit and held me over the flames
. "Let me go!"
Erik jumped forward and reached out to take me from Methuselah, but the vampire held out his hand and stopped my mate.
"Throw the powder into the fire," Methuselah ordered Erik.
Marge and Greg jumped to their feet.
"But she will be killed!" Marge pointed out.
"I'd rather not become an overcooked marshmallow!" I chimed in.
"I cannot guarantee it will work," Erik countered.
"Then she will die," Methuselah replied.
"This is a little extreme," Hazel spoke up. She marched over to us and placed her hands on her hips to scowl at the vampire. "I am fond of for rough teaching, but this is too much."
"If Cassandra hopes to lift the curse, then this must be done," Methuselah insisted.
"Can we try a safer way?" I pleaded. "One where I'm not put over a fire?"
Erik looked to me and our eyes met. There was such determination in them that some of my fear was extinguish. Some, but not all. He needed to accomplish this, if not for himself or his mother then for his people. Our people.
"I will try it," he announced. "But only if you wish it," he told me.
I cringed. "You promise you won't singe me too badly?
A small smile slipped onto his lips. "I guarantee nothing, but I will try."
I sighed and gave a nod of my head. "All right, give it a try, but if this doesn't work we get to trade places."
"Agreed," Erik replied.
Hazel's eyes grew large and she scooted back to her spot beyond the stone benches. Greg and Marge reluctantly sat back down. Methuselah had so much faith in this experiment that he took a step back, but kept me over the fire.
"Thanks for the show of confidence. . ." I grumbled.
I wanted to avert my eyes, but if I was going to go out I would see it happen. Erik knelt down beside the fire and tossed in what remained of the powder. I pressed my knees against my chest and waited for my hot seat. When it didn't come after the first three seconds I chanced a glance beneath me. The fire was not only not going to kill me, but it was completely fizzled out. Only a small plume of smoke rose from its ashes.
I jerked when somebody started clapping. It was Hazel. She strode forward and clapped Erik on the back.
"Well done!" she told him. "I believe your mother would be very proud of you."
I let out a small yelp when Methuselah swung me away from the pit and back onto nonflammable ground. He dropped me onto my feet and I stumbled forward. Erik stood and caught me in his arms.