The Props Master 1 Ritual RealityChapter 21 Summons
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When Wayne awoke seconds later, Judith already cradled him against her breasts, her hand stroking his hair. A bird chirped somewhere in the distance, the only sound breaking the silence, and Wayne’s first clue that the night was far advanced and dawn would soon break.
He looked up, searching for Judith’s eyes, but found that they were focused on a spot beyond him. He followed her gaze to the broken cauldron and the fountain of steam that was still rising from it. It rose only some six feet above the altar stone and was not dissipating. Wayne craned his head around to find Rebecca also staring at the cauldron’s remnants. She was in the care of the other priestess. He scrambled to sit upright next to Judith, finding that he needed her support. That last effort drained him.
“Oops,” he whispered, looking at the broken kettle.
“Shh,” whispered Judith. The entire circle stared at the relic and Wayne focused on the shifting steam rising from the cauldron. There in its midst, he saw a shape solidifying as if it could will the molecules of escaping steam into a form. And then he recognized her.
“Chameleon!” He struggled to his feet and lurched toward her.
“Unbound. You did it,” she answered. She hugged Wayne to her, supporting his weight.
“Wait! How do you know her?” Judith demanded.
“It’s the ... uh ... doughnut lady.”
“It’s me,” Lissa said simply. “It gets harder to surprise you blokes every time.”
“Theatre person?” Wayne asked Judith.
“The best.”
The entire circle broke into applause and laughter and a dozen people moved to hug her in welcome. Rebecca joined Wayne and Judith.
“Is there something I should be doing about this?” she whispered to Judith.
“No. She belongs here,” Judith answered. “Though how she got in through the wards, I don’t know.”
“They all fell apart when The Unbound cracked the pot,” Lissa said.
“Damn, it’s good to see you, sister,” Judith said hugging the newcomer. “But you have a lot of explaining to do. You were training him?”
“Someone had to. You and The Hart were bollixing things up royally.”
“That means you taught him ... You bitch! With my boyfriend!”
“Uh ... Swordmaster,” Rebecca whispered. “Maybe we should hear the story first. Not that I’m one to speak...”
“Sister, it was for the circle. I’m going to assume this was, too.”
“It was, love,” said Lissa. “You can’t imagine how hard it’s been to be so close to the two of you and not be able to reveal myself. I was tracking what The Barber was doing and trying to protect the three of you as best I could.”
“Protect us?”
“Have The Unbound tell you about the tornado on Oester,” Lissa laughed. “I taught him every defense I knew and then he kept coming up with things I’d never taught him. I’d like to know who else was teaching. I thought it was you two!”
“Only when we realized he was being taught,” Judith said.
“Uh ... He’s right here, you know. He might even have one or two answers,” Wayne said.
“Sorry, babycakes. I didn’t mean to be condescending,” Judith said.
“Have you all been naked all night? It’s freezing up here,” Lissa said. She reached behind the stone for her robe and pulled it on. The rest of the coveners took that as their sign to do the same. Wayne pulled his shoulder bag open and got his own black robe out of it.
“Now that I’ve got most of my memory at my command, the three of you and my uncle all assumed way too much. And assume makes an ass out of u and me.”
“Your uncle?” Rebecca asked.
“I know the wards are down, but I think we should have them before I talk further,” Wayne said. He gestured and the gathered celebrants were wreathed in light as the dome took shape.
“Whoa!” Lissa said. “Who taught you that one?”
“If any of you had let me have all my wits about me, this might have been easier,” Wayne began. “As it was, The Swordmaster gave me a gift of pentacles and swore me to secrecy with a blood oath. When I was puzzling this out while visiting my uncle at New Year’s, he thought that meant she was training me. He had things to give me—pass on to me—and couldn’t wait, so initiated me and gave me the knife that everyone’s been so crazy to get. My uncle is a solitary called The Bound, initiated by the Vagabond Priest you all once knew as The Firebrand. Others of us found his name in certain rare manuscripts.” He looked at Rebecca and Judith, knowing that they understood this was Benjamin Wilton.
“So, your uncle, The Bound, was training you?” Rebecca asked.
“Indirectly. He gave me the Athamé and his Book of Shadows. I’ve been learning from it.”
“From what I’ve seen, The Bound’s Book of Shadows should be entered in the records as a grimoire,” Lissa said.
“I thought it was The Swordmaster who was training you,” Rebecca said. “So, when I realized you were a toolmaker, I thought I’d help with some of the lore. I didn’t attempt to train you beyond that.”
“And I thought it was either you or The Swordmaster, so I was just going to supplement with the secrets of Ops,” Lissa said. “I’d figured out it wasn’t the tool-making that killed great-grandmother, but the scrying.”
“Mari was your great-grandmother?” Wayne asked.
“Well, there’s a couple more greats in there,” Lissa answered. “But like you inherited your uncle’s Book of Shadows, I inherited Mari’s.”
“That brings us to tonight,” Judith said. “For such a bunch of fuck-ups, we seemed to have come out okay. Are you all right, sweetie?” Wayne hugged Judith to him.
“Yeah. I still need to get used to all this, though. I’ve only been getting it together since earlier this evening. Chameleon managed to get through most of the barriers you two set. Losing the pentacles was disorienting. Then The Bound appeared on the spirit level and released the last geas. He told me I had taken an oath to protect my brothers and sisters in the craft. And I’d sworn to Chameleon to protect The Huntress. I came up over the hill and saw that priest fellow with a knife at Re ... The Hart’s throat and went crazy.”
“You did the right thing. Slaying the demon was unbelievable.”
“It was like the knife took control and told me what to do.”
“But ... if I may interrupt,” the other priestess said, moving closer to the four, “the circle is gathered to know the substance of The High Priestess’s vision. Can you tell us what happened? We participated in the visions that were occurring in the cauldron and frankly were all passed out by the time The Unbound broke the spell.”
“And the kettle,” Wayne muttered.
“You’re a toolmaker. You can make another,” Judith giggled. Wayne groaned.
“The visions were coming too fast for me to separate,” Rebecca began. “I was being overwhelmed until one image solidified.”
“Your daughter,” Counselor said.
“Yes. But I don’t know what it means other than she apparently is the one to release my husband.”
“That is undoubtedly a part of her mission, but our lore holds another answer as well,” the old priestess said. She walked over to the broken cauldron. Wayne stepped behind Judith and made himself as small as possible.
“What other answer, Priestess?” Rebecca asked.
“The great cauldron Ops is broken,” the Priestess intoned. “It requires that the circle dedicate another to take its place. Alas, that is where this evening began and is not where any of us wish for it to end. But the absence of a tool is not unknown to us. Over the centuries tools have been lost, hidden, and broken. Each time, a toolmaker has come into our midst. And each time a new tool has been forged. But these tools have not always had a physical manifestation as knife, wand, cup, and pentacles, or even cauldron. That is why there are four circles that make up the Great Cobhan Carles Castlerigg. In the absence of the tool, the lesser circle can be dedicated as the embodiment of that spirit, just as Threlkeld has functioned as the Athamé for these past fourteen years. The same is true of the cauldron. But we have no circle dedicated to Ops. It is my opinion that there must be a new circle with your daughter as its center, as the vision showed us.”
“No!” Rebecca gasped. “She’s too young.”
“Agreed, but things take time. Has she apprenticed yet?”
“I have raised her in the ways of the circle.”
“This is as it should be. It is time to take that a step further. A representative from each of the lesser circles should surround her and take her into their care and training.” Judith immediately stepped forward and raised her hand, Lissa just a step behind her. Two other women from the other circles also stepped forward. “That was easy,” the Priestess said. “But there is one more thing. A toolmaker.” She looked directly at Wayne. “Vagabond. Can we commit this circle into your care to forge it into a tool of the coven? This has ever been the role of a vagabond in our midst—one who is not a part of any circle.”
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Doc and Margaret ran up the avenue toward the rostrum. Pol moved more cautiously forward at a distance. Rebecca stood to meet them and began pulling her clothes on. Wesley blushed and scrambled into his own tattered clothing. “Rebecca!” said Margaret. “How did you ever... ?” “Wesley, are you all right?” Doc overlapped in the excitement. “Did you see them?” Wesley ignored the questions, he was so caught up in the experience. “The pillars arrived just before the sunrise. Did you see them...
At daybreak on Monday, Marcos, Pol, and the three Americans gathered at the common well to receive instructions from the old man. Besides the six of them, the family remained asleep and the courtyard lifeless. Wesley surprised himself when he realized he no longer considered them heathens. The old man was leader of a tribal sect, he thought. After all, a priest had been in the gathering the night before and had invited him to attend services at the monastery when they returned to the...
Rebecca Hart Allen, world traveler. She stepped off the plane to the glare of the afternoon sun, much warmer here than in Edinburgh. She shifted beneath the woolen sweater she wore over her plaid pleated skirt. Mrs. Weed had taken her shopping for tartans, a favorite souvenir of Americans who imagined they had some Scottish blood in their veins. Perhaps Rebecca did have Scottish ancestors. They had found a Hart tartan, though it was classified as Clan Urquhart. Nonetheless, Mrs. Weed sewed...
Dearest Husband Wesley, I hope you can read this. I’m on a bus. Such beautiful country here in the north. So unlike London. But then, we really didn’t see much of London since we stayed in our hotel room. I’m sorry the time of the month was such that I was likely not fertile on our honeymoon. I doubt there is a child yet in my womb. But, oh, my dear, I long to have you in me again. I want to bear your child. My adjustment to life in Edinburgh has been chaotic. I was thrust immediately into...
“I am happy that you chose to join me on this little jaunt, Brother John,” said Brother El. “I go by Wesley. No one has called me John in many years.” “Precisely why I chose to name you Brother John. Should anyone hear your name spoken, they will not relate it to the American explorers in the village. Are you doing all right?” Wesley glanced down at the sheer cliff beside him and the narrow stairs cut into it. For a moment, he considered that he might have been better being hauled up the...
The desert sun beat down as Doc climbs one dune after another—dunes that were in different places hours ago. That was before the sandstorm buried him and his fellow archaeologists in the Sinai. He has to get help. Any relief from the burning heat. More miles of desert to cross. In his Greenwich home, Doc snapped back to reality, staring at a carved wood panel in his library that replayed the event. Each of the eleven panels in the room showed a different expedition. His eye wandered back to...
Not everything went as smoothly as anticipated. Indiana required a blood test before a license would be issued and there was a three-day waiting period after they had a license. Rebecca broke out in tears when the county clerk refused to issue a license. “We leave on our cruise on Saturday!” she protested. “Have the ship’s captain marry you then,” the sympathetic clerk said. “You really should have thought about this before you decided to honeymoon.” A visit to the travel agent Rebecca had...
Pol met Rebecca and Wesley at the gate when they returned from their walk late in the afternoon. Even after the exertions of their open air lovemaking, they had continued on up between the two highest of Metéora’s monasteries and then followed the road back past yet another. Tourists had begun to arrive for the weekend in Kalambaka to tour the open monasteries on Saturday or attend Divine Liturgy on Sunday. “Have you been waiting for us, Pol?” Wesley asked. The boy nodded and...
Doc and Margaret boarded a train to Chicago with Milton’s notes safely tucked between them. The Chicago tickets, purchased by William the day before their departure, would postpone anyone following them at least a day. If they were lucky, it would send someone ahead of them to Chicago. When they arrived in Fort Wayne, Indiana, they got off the train. Wesley Allen was waiting to pick them up. The meeting was warm and cordial. The three-hour trip from Fort Wayne to Wesley’s home in...