A Cave, a Wand, and a Woman

A cool breeze mingles past, flowing up from the bowels of the cave. A young man stands at the mouth, hands spread out, one clutching a small wand. He makes motions, like a conductor, whirling the wand around and muttering incantations under his breadth. Any muggle standing nearby would surely think him out of his mind, but for Marcus it's just another day's work. Round and round he twirls his hands, pushing his conscience from his body and into the deeply intertwined spells and incantations guarding the cave.

There's old magic here. Not ancient magic, but several decades old at least. And powerful magic, some of the most powerful magic Marcus has ever dealt with. There's also a new magic, powerful also but not as powerful as the old magic. The two dance and intertwine, intermingling in delicate and subtle ways. There's a darkness to the older magic, not quiet evil but nearly so. Black as the surrounding night air and deeper than the seas engulfing the island. But the new magic, it dazzles and dances, moving back and forth like the waves on the beach below. It's not dark magic, no it has a lighter heart, like the stars above. Mischievous, to be certain, but not malicious or threatening.

She left this for him. To tell him that she's here, waiting. It's been a long journey, but it might finally be coming to an end. The forests of Alaska, the unknown tombs of Egypt, the high temples hidden in the Himalayas, and now this small deserted island stranded in the cold seas south of Norway.

He knows she's here because this is the first time she's left her own magic to greet him.

How she got into the cave without breaking or at least subduing these spells is beyond Marcus. But that was always her talent wasn't it? Move in, get out, without disturbing so much as a spell or cricket. A phantom, able to float with the wind and to delve into the deepest depths of any tomb or hiding place. Marcus tries to remain focused, but he can't help but wonder who the older spells belong to. Voldermort? No, the spells are too old and the evil not that extreme. Dumbledore? He might dabble in darker magic, but this doesn't feel like his style. Somebody else. Grindlewald most likely, these were his old stomping grounds after all. And she always had a fascination with him.

He takes a deep breadth and delves further into the spells.

Gently, cautiously, he pulls each spell apart, breaking those that need be broken and ignoring those that can be. For several long minutes he stands, a conductor with his baton in hand, playing a symphony before the crowds of rocks and shrubs. Finally, he stops, whipping a few drops of sweat from his brow. Even in the frigid night air, Marcus can't help but sweat. Not since the tombs in Egypt has he had to deal with such powerful magic. He takes a couple of deep breadths, satisfied that his work is done. He can enter the cave, just as soon as he regains his strength.

Foot over foot, Marcus descends. As the darkness engulfs him and the light from the moon above fades, he produces a small orb of light from his wand and sends it gently floating down the path. The cave is wind-worn smooth and his progress is easy. A few dozen steps in a massive gust of wind blows up from the guts of the cave, nearly knocking Marcus on his feet. But he was expecting it, a simple wind trap to warn him of the dangers that lie further in the cave. But he's already taken care of those dangers, breaking and shattering the powerful spells. He can still feel their presence, lingering in the air like dust, but they pose no danger.

How the hell does she do it, move past all these spells like a ghost? No, not even a ghost could move past these. She didn't even bother or disturb the killing curse trap.

He'd ask her to teach him her tricks, but Marcus already knows that a grave robber will take her secrets to the grave.

The glowing orb of light disappears while rising up a slight bend. The cave must lead upwards from here. Marcus produces light at the tip of his wand without even a whisper. The floating orb will continue onwards to greet her with a gentle bath of light, but who knows how she'll greet him. He hopes she'll come quietly, without a fight. She must want to be caught, after all, she left her trail as clear as day while trotting across the world. Marcus has been on the road for over a month, but now he is closing in. He'll have his prize at last.

Marcus rises, following the smooth incline upwards. Ahead, he can see the gentle orb glowing, waiting for him to catch up. The cave opens up into a large cavern. Marcus enters, half expecting to see her standing next to the orb. But the room is empty.

Maybe he's wrong? Maybe she's not here after all.

"Hello Marcus," her sweet voice floats from the shadows and across the cavern.

Marcus turns every so slightly, his eyes trained on the sound. He shines his light into the shadows but the space is empty, filled with not more than dust and mold. Footsteps echo across the rock floor on the other side, however, as a short, slender figure emerges. She's dressed in black, black as the darkness still lingering in the crevices of the cavern.

"Still falling for that old trick?"

"Didn't know we were still playing games."

"Oh, you know me. I always like to have a little fun."

"Are you going to make this difficult Asteria?"

"I promise I won't, if you won't."

"I'll take you quietly, no problem."

"Take me? Take me where?"

"You know where."

"You mean this isn't a romantic date?" she says, "just look at how lovely this place is." And with that she brings her hand up and flicks her wand at the glowing orb in the center of the room. It shatters into a hundred pieces, with the small orbs of light flying up to the ceiling were they float like fireflies.

"You know why I'm here," Marcus says.

"Yes, to arrest me. But you don't know why I'm here, and I don't think you care."

Marcus does care. He cares deeply, and just seeing her glide across the room makes his heart beat and his knees tremble. She's so beautiful, far more beautiful than any spell he could ever conjure. A slender thing with short dark cropped hair and eyes painted black. Her light skin seems to glow, giving her a radiance that's all too real.

She's only a few paces in front now, standing confidently, resting on one of her heels and giving Marcus a mischievous smile. She's got one hand tucked behind her back, no doubt hiding whatever it is she came here to loot.

"So Marcus, aren't you at least curious as to why I'm here?"

"Of course, but I figure we can sort that out later, once you're safely in custody."

"So you really are going to arrest me then?"

Marcus sighs, "you know why I've been chasing you. You know what I have to do."

"What if I won't come?"

Marcus hesitates, struggling to summon up the strength, "then I'll make you come."

And now it's Asteria who sighs, "oh Marcus, there's so much I want to tell you."

"I'll let you tell me, as soon as I have you back in custody." And then he makes his move, bringing up his wand in a flash and shouting expelliarmus! The small black wand goes flying out of her hand, spinning end over end through the air.

But Marcus realizes something. That wasn't Hawthorne!

Suddenly the hand hidden behind her back flies out and a spell erupts from the tip of a wand. Marcus feels the spell collide with his chest. It's a weak spell and it doesn't knock him out, but his whole body goes numb as a tingling cold sweeps over him.

"Oh Marcus, you don't even know how much I enjoy seeing you."

But he does.

She moves closer, her face only inches from his. She plants a kiss on his lips and even through the numbness he can feel her warm, wet lips on his.

"I bet you want to hurt me right now, don't you?"

But he doesn't. He just wishes he could kiss her back.