Wicked Circle

It was just after ten o’clock when they picked up I-81 north at Syracuse.

Toni awoke. They agreed on a burger joint for a food and facilities break, then were back on the road. Johnny kept the speedometer at seventy-five.

“What’s he like?” Johnny asked.

Toni smiled. “He’s all boy. He can’t sit still. His mind is on anything but his schoolwork. He climbs everything. He catches frogs and digs up worms. He’s full of energy and he’s . . . he’s just vibrant!”

Johnny realized he was smiling.

“He’s got a mouth on him, though. I should be tougher on him than I have been, but . . . he lost his mother. I lost my daughter. Spoiling him helped us both get through it.”

“Does he remember her?”

“Oh, yes. There’s a picture of her beside his bed and he . . .” Her voice thickened, cracked. “He kisses Mommy good night every night.”

Johnny didn’t have to see her tears to know she was crying.

“Where is he now?”

“With some family friends. I’ll call them in the morning and go get him.” She resituated herself in the seat. “I was thinking, once we get to Saranac Lake, I’ll show you where the house is and you can drop me off. I’m sorry, but I don’t have a guest room. I don’t even have a couch, just a short love seat—”

“I don’t mind staying at a hotel.”

She sighed gratefully. “Thank you.”

“No, Toni. Thank you.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

I studied the necklace dangling from Liyliy’s fist. It was a reasonable guess that since she wanted it gone, it represented either some danger to her, prohibited her from something, or had some power over her. Testing my theories, I reached my bound hands up to accept the necklace.

She lurched away, then tromped angrily around me, saying, “You will not touch it!”

It has some power over her.

Liyliy was kicking granules of salt all over me. I rolled to my back, blinked repeatedly and shielded my face to try and keep it out of my eyes. “How am I supposed to destroy it without touching it?” I demanded.

“Destroy? I did not say destroy!” She kicked me in the shoulder and I rolled, screaming in pain. Staring down at me, she growled, “I said unmake.”

Panting, I laid my head on the mound and concentrated on getting this salt-flavored air in and out of my lungs. Correction, that thing must provide the bearer some control over her. Thinking back, I recalled that when I’d accepted the scroll from the advisor Mero, I had glimpsed something around his neck; I’d wondered then if he’d been wearing a magical amulet or pendant.

Aha.

So she needed the Lustrata to unmake the necklace.

“I trust you know the difference.”

“I do,” I said. Simply destroying a magical item could either break whatever spell it housed or seal it, depending on the item. The stake I’d burned in my hearth—just over six weeks ago!—had been made of wood and blood and mud. The spell-work attached had not been able to hold onto ash. As the wood had been consumed, the magic had evaporated, released in fiery transmutation.

Magic in metal was not so easy. Metal didn’t transmute when superheated; it could become molten, but it was still metal and the spell wouldn’t release. Unmaking a necklace of what appeared to be gold would be no small feat.

Or maybe the spell wasn’t attached to the metal.

The pouch would burn, but I was betting the important stuff was within. If it had stones, crushing them would seal the magic in place. A major counter-spell would then be required to undo the magic—with no guarantee of success, let alone permanence. “I have to know what I’m dealing with. Are there stones inside the pouch?”

Liyliy retreated to a safe distance and opened the pouch. Her wings sprouted and hoisted her toward the open top. As she hovered, the blustering air flung salt every which way, and I had to shield my eyes again. When the rush of air diminished, she was standing, wingless, before me. “There are three. Amber.”

Those stones would burn and transmute.

Liyliy, apparently, understood all this. If I tried and “accidentally” cracked the amber, she would surely kill me.

My only experience with unmaking anything was the in signum amoris. That had been a spoken spell sealed in actions and energy—it had existed like worn jewelry, attached to me, but not a part of me. Burning a fence in my meditation world had removed it in much the manner of losing jewelry down the drain. That was substantially different from unmaking physical matter in this world. I’d also had Hecate’s help.

Why would Creepy want me to know that I can do this?

He knows Menessos and Johnny can’t help me.

I scratched my head as if I was still thinking. I had to either do this impossible thing, or get it away from her.

I couldn’t fight her physically; my shoulder injury was too fresh for me to expect to make much of a show as an opponent. But. Even without access to the ley line, I had power within me. Although most of my energy was depleted, she had brought me food . . . with more I could reenergize myself. Maybe enough to make one lucky strike, claim the necklace, and flip the balance of power here.

I could hope.

Donning an expression of an idea that had just struck, I sat up and clawed through the salt for the candy bar she’d dropped. “I need more food.” I opened it and devoured a bite. “What you want me to do requires a lot of energy, and if you won’t let me tap the ley line, I need some other way to fuel it. Bring me water, energy drinks and any power stones you trust me to have.”

She warily assessed me as she thought it through. Providing me energy that I might try to use against her was a risk she had to take. She couldn’t expect me to succeed without it.

Finally she said, “Then you go back into the dark.”

After the overhead door shut and darkness surrounded me again, I waited long enough for Liyliy to leave. Then I reopened the Coca-Cola and splashed a fizzy circle around me.

Mother, seal my circle and give me a sacred space.

I need to think clearly to solve the troubles I face.

I could usually slip into an alpha state like flicking a switch . . . but not today. I tried again.

Grounding and centering myself didn’t work. Something was wrong. It wasn’t me, either, all injuries aside. This salt-and-iron environment was interfering. Since meditation had nothing to do with outward magic, my contact with this stuff had to be to blame. Venturing a guess, I’d have bet that Liyliy had done something to this salt and that was keeping me from tapping the ley.

Salt as mere salt couldn’t stop me. Iron couldn’t either, but apparently both in the high amounts found here, and mixed with whatever empowerment Liyliy had worked, was enough.

She’d even gone so far as to stuff my mouth with salt.

Thinking about that made me thirsty again; I gulped another drink of the Coke and visualized the caffeinated beverage burning the salt out of me. That gave me an idea.

Pushing my aura to include what was directly touching me—I didn’t have enough energy to spare for cleansing the tons of it that was here—I said,

Mother, cleanse this salt and give me a sacred space.

I need to think clearly to solve the troubles I face.

That did it. In seconds, I sat on the shore with a lake lapping quietly before me, a willow tree beside me and crickets singing in the darkness. My bonds and wounds did not go with me, though the torn and ragged dress did. I