Sacred Circle (8 page)

“We are not here to interfere with coven matters, Sally. We came because of Mother—to get to the bottom of her collapse. You know as well as I that mistakes can be made at any time when it comes to Sacred Circles.”

“Are you insinuating that a member of this coven caused her collapse?”

“Not at all,” Devlin interjected, “I'm sure we'll find her collapse was a freak accident.” To Brianna's surprise, Sally's hostility quickly evaporated.

“Of course, it's freakish. It's what I've been telling Francis for days.”

“In that case, you'll have no objection to Brianna and Devlin taking a look at Danny for a moment with me,” Brad said. A myriad of expressions ranging from outrage to compliance crossed Sally's features, and Brianna wondered how she managed to shift from emotion to emotion so quickly. Sally suddenly swayed on her feet and Brad snatched her elbow. “I've warned you not to overdo it, Sally. This illness is draining your system. If you continue to push your body to the point of exhaustion, you will find yourself in worse shape than Danny.”

Tears welled at his words.

“He's my angel. I don't know what I'll do without him . . . he looks so helpless…”

Brad took her arm, guiding her towards the doorway.

“Go and rest, so I can bring Danny back to you healthier than ever.”

She gave him a weak smile, and Brianna saw the aura surrounding her frame slip from red to grey. Her shoulders sagged unexpectedly, and she collapsed against the door jam with an agonizing sob. Devlin rushed to her aid, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

“Rituals can be reversed. We found that out when we were ten, remember?” He shook her shoulders. “You mustn't give up now. Brad will find a way to reverse this illness.”

Brianna saw Sally's eyes come alive, with shades of the girlfriend they once knew. She clutched Devlin's hand.

“I'm sorry for being so mean-spirited before. I'm tired and cranky, and feeling worse by the minute.”

“You must go back to your room and lie down,” Brianna advised. “Rest and sleep has always been the best cure for tired lungs.”

She nodded then whirled, disappearing out the door.

“You still have a knack when it comes to her, I see,” Brad said, heading towards the bed. Reaching it, he pushed the boy's bangs away from his forehead and signaled the pair forward. “Danny doesn't appear to be getting worse; however, he doesn't appear to be getting any better either.” He stepped aside. “Tell me what you think.”

Brianna crossed to the bed, surprised to find her hands damp with sweat as she touched the handrail. Fear. The word resembled a shock wave jolting her brain. She didn't like that message. It meant that she hadn't really convinced herself until this moment that the coven had come under serious attack from an unknown source. But now, seeing the boy's pale skin and shallow breathing, she was sure his condition wouldn't be so easily diagnosed without some intuitive insight.

“Anything?” Brianna jumped at the question. “Sorry, didn't mean to startle you.” Brad wrapped his fingers around Danny's wrist and monitored the beats. “Danny was the first to arrive in the clearing. He found your mother and immediately came searching for your father.”

“And he was the first to come down with the bug?” Brianna asked, studying the boy's flushed skin as he roused from his sleep. “May we touch him, Brad?”

“At your own peril, I'm afraid.”

“Well, I don't see how you expect us to give you our opinion on things if we can't touch people. Besides, your warning is too late. I'm already terrified.” She reached out and brushed the boy's face and neck with the back of her hand. His vacuous gaze centered on her face as he felt the touch.

She bent down, offering him a smile. “I know you feel like you're on fire,” she said, “but I have just the magic to cool you down.” She patted his hand. “No more worrying, you hear?” He gave her a reluctant nod and closed his eyes. Brianna turned from the bed to find Devlin studying her curiously. She addressed his unspoken thoughts. “Hope can do more than magic sometimes. If he thinks he will get well, he will.” Reaching out, she withdrew a pencil and notepad from the doctor's shirt pocket and scribbled on the first sheet of the pad. “I want you to fix this potion and give it to Danny. If my grandmother was right, it should work its magic in about three hours.”

He glanced down at the note, his right eyebrow lifting in surprise as he read the three lines.

“You can't mean it's this simple?” he remarked.

“The earth is an amazing storehouse for miracles, Brad. They're simple and direct. They are never packaged with glitz and glamour.”

The doctor folded the note and nodded his thanks.

“I'll have Francis scrape up the ingredients from Sally's shop. The mixture will be dispensed in less than an hour.” He studied her curiously again. “You're more High Priestess than you realize.” He tossed a wave over his shoulder. “Marla Curtis is recuperating two doors down—Eileen's next door. They appear to be holding their own though; no other symptoms, except for hacking coughs . . . why the startled look?” he asked breaking off.

“I just spent the last week with a horrendous cold and a hacking cough.” His features became alarmed, and Brianna held up her hand. “No, I'm not contagious. I got sick prior to Mother's collapse and was well on the way to recovery when you called.”

“An omen of things to come, do you think?”

“It's hard not to see the correlation at the moment,” Devlin said. “However, I don't put much stock in coincidences. I'm mentioning it because Brianna believes in the concept of ‘what goes 'round, comes 'round.'”

“You're talking about the power of three now.”

Brianna didn't confirm or deny his statement; instead, she turned her attention back to the boy in the bed. She lifted the covers atop his body and scanned his arms and legs. No bruises or welts, and his aura was a pale lavender hue at the moment.

She dropped the covers. It was a safe bet that Danny took one look at her mother, panicked, and then fled the clearing.

“Anything jumping out at you now?” Devlin asked.

“Nothing. Perhaps, that's why I'm so scared,” she replied. “Energy sickness usually comes with a definite pattern. Welts or bruises on the body, a high fever, alternating hot flashes, and cold sweats.” Brianna nodded at the bed. “Danny's skin is warm to the touch, but not hot. And I don't see any signs of a rash or bruising. If he's the worst of the doctor's patients, then we should feel encouraged.”

“But you're not,” Brad stated.

“No, and I won't be until I learn what occurred prior to Mother's casting of the circle.”

“And if you learn she had help in going down in the circle?”

“I'll make the bastard pay.”

“I don't like the sound of that.” Brad shook his head. “It's not at all Wiccan.”

“Or Christian.” Devlin replied, stepping from the bed and heading for the door.

Brianna followed more slowly, catching sight of Brad's grin at her.

“I'm glad you're both here,” he said. “It's good to have logical, no-nonsense individuals making hard decisions for us.”

Brianna's hand flew out as she took a half-turn back.

“I'll remind you you said that when the going gets tough, and you're damning us to hell.”

He laughed and Brianna re-whirled, slamming into Devlin's chest. He grasped her shoulders at the same time she clutched his chest. The very air around her suddenly turned electric, and her pulse began dancing with excitement. For a brief moment, she thought Devlin was going to lower his head and kiss her. But when she looked up, she found him grinning boyishly at her. His hands moved slowly; too slowly, skimming her torso lightly and traveling to her waist. Once there, her heart lurched as he balanced her weight and kept her steady. To her horror, she blushed like a giddy girl of seventeen and pulled out of his arms. She emitted a choking laugh.

“Next time, give a girl a warning you're going to crush her toes.”

“If there's a next time, I'll crush more than your toes.”

Brianna turned a vivid scarlet at his insinuation. Thankfully, he turned on his heel before he could see her reddened cheeks. A moment later, his fingers beckoned her from the hallway. Taking a deep, unsteady breath, Brianna squared her shoulders. Next stop, a surprise reunion with her father.

Brianna stopped just short of the open doorway, taking another deep breath. Was she ready to face her father again after all these years? Ready to mend fences with the Elders? She didn't know, and the curling in the pit of her stomach was proof that she might not be ready. Her dry mouth said it, too.

“No pain, no gain.” Devlin quoted, giving her back a forceful shove. She stumbled into the room, giving Devlin a damning look over her shoulder. He ignored the look, content to lounge against the door frame and study the room before them.

Catching her balance, Brianna spotted her father propped up on two pillows. Good Lord, he looked terrible. It was as if the current illness was being directed at him, as well as her mother. Seeing his head turn at her clumsy entrance, she moved to the bed. Once there, she dangled the Pentagram in front of him. She chanted softly.

“I stand here in your guardian light; empower this amulet with all of your might. Dispensation of a day is all that we ask; please accept this request as the Council's new task.” She lowered the Pentagram. “Hello, Papa.” She bent and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gave his back a soothing pat. He returned the hug and then pushed her away, brushing his left cheek quickly.

“Dispensation granted, daughter. Bless the Goddesses for bringing you here.” A sudden spasm of coughing derailed his greeting, and his hand shot to his mouth for cover. A minute later, his voice was quivering. “As you can hear, I'm in bad shape. It's as if whatever happened to your mother has latched itself on to me.”

Brianna shook his arm.

“Devlin and I will pinpoint the problem for you.”

His gaze shot to the doorway, and Brianna saw him smile. He held out his hand for Devlin, who moved and shook it firmly. With his free hand, he reached out for Brianna. “My two magic makers finally here. I can rest easy now.” His gaze swung to the chair across from the bed. “I know Sienna has a fighting chance now that Devlin and Brianna have come, Francis. They've only to examine the circle and tell us how to make things right.”

Brianna looked at the lanky figure rising from a chair. Merciful heavens! Francis was still lurking in shadows and eavesdropping.

“You're full of surprises, Charles. I wish I didn't have to put a damper on this homecoming, but as First Elder, I must. We cannot have outsiders dictating our destiny. It is against coven protocols.”

“Throw me out. I dare you!” Brianna declared, recklessly.

Devlin interrupted her impending tirade. He focused on Francis's mulish expression.

“Neither Brianna nor I have any intention of interfering with coven matters. We are here to give advice only. If Charles thinks we can be of help by taking a brief look at the circle, we will do it. So the question now becomes, what will you need from us in order to release the clearing back to the Council?”

Brianna saw a surprised look cross Francis's face, and his gaze shot to her father.

“They don't know?”

“Know what?” Brianna asked, following Francis' scrutiny of her father. A sudden prickling on the ridge of her neck had Brianna catching her breath. Bad news was coming. She could feel it.

“I didn't tell you everything when I called,” her father replied. “About your Mother, that is.”

Brianna fumbled for a chair and sank down.

“She's not . . .”

Her father's hand reached out from the bed.

“No, no. She's alive . . .”

“Thank goodness!” Her father fell back against the pillows and Brianna felt a brief touch on her shoulder. She nodded at Devlin. “No hysterics yet, I promise you.”

“Good girl.”

“She was Drawing down the Moon in a special binding ceremony,” her father rallied. “There had been a report of an un-Sacred Circle being created.”

“My God, Papa! You let her go into the clearing knowing that? What were you thinking?”

“That your mother could take care of herself; she always has.”

“Are you sure she wasn't conducting a protection ceremony? You don't need to Draw down the Moon to bind a sinner.”

“I can only assume that is what she was doing. She left the cottage without a word to me.”

“Performing a ceremony without back-up was a risky thing for her to do under the circumstances,” Devlin said.

A set of spasms contorted her father's chest, cutting off any reply he would've liked to make. Alarmed, Brianna jumped from her chair and grabbed his fingers.

“Enough talking. Francis can fill us in on the rest.”

Her father shook his head, rallying his strength.

“Don't go baiting Francis. He may be the only person that can aid you in collecting evidence from the clearing.”

Brianna made a face.

“The evidence has already gone underground, we all know that. Francis is purposely being a horse's . . .” She felt Devlin's hand along her upper arm, and brushed his fingers away. “I'm not going to insult Francis. I just want to remind him of the proper protocol when comforting a High Priest under the weather.”

“I can't wait to hear what you think that is,” Devlin muttered.

Brianna rumpled her nose at him, turning her attention to Francis, whose scowl was almost as fierce as her own. His next words were terse.

“You have no authority here, Brianna, and even though you have been clever enough to evoke the Dispensation Law, it's only bought you one more day in our midst.” He held out his hand. “The Pentagram, if you please. It will need to be cleansed and purified before being returned to the Sacristy.”