Earth...a secluded location in Ireland's countryside...
Flames roared into the sky, thunderous as they peaked three stories up. Coven members backed away from the pyre as it consumed the body at the center, now nearly invisible. Strong herbs combined with the fragrant wood nearly masked the smell of cooking flesh...
But not quite.
Collene Draictocha scowled as she approached the pyre one last time. A strong, wrinkled arm flung one more package of herbs into the blaze.
"I'll not say 'blessed be'," she said to the rising flames. "I doubt ye're in a better place now, filled with hatred and evil as ye were. But maybe these flames, and what-ere others ye encounter in the afterlife, ken purify yer soul of the evil ye served, an' release ye to goodness in the end. To Justice We release thee, and to the breakin' of all bindings on yer soul."
Each coven member cast a similar herb-pouch into the pyre. "Find rest," one said. "Learn peace," said another. Erin clutched hers, uncertain of what to say, and began to weep.
There was a crackling, a large 'POP', and a roar from within the center of the pyre. The iron bed-frame, on which the body rested, glowed in the heat.
John stepped forward, throwing his own bag. "And if t'was Surtr you served, may he claim his own! Take notice, we did this one no harm! He died o' his own evil, and reaped what he sowed!" He shouted, pulling his mother back by the arm.
"John, what are ye..." she started, but was cut off by her son's shout and motion towards the rising flames.
A humanoid figure towered 15 feet high above the pyre. It seemed made of flame, with horns that spiraled up from its skull. Jagged teeth blazed from a bull-like face as it laughed, and a serpentine tail wound its way around the engulfed body at its feet.
"Peace," it spat. "No peace! No servant of my master, but lawful prey! No peace! Come now, Sommerland Child: learn what a warm welcome awaits!" It tilted its head back and laughed harder, lifted the dead arsonist with its tail, and beckoned for Colleen with one hand.
"BEGONE, FOUL DWIMMERLAKE! CARRION LORD! YOU HAVE YOUR LAWFUL PREY! LEAVE THE LIVING IN PEACE!" Erin shouted, and threw her pouch at the fire elemental.
It hissed at her like a serpent, and spat. "Foolish babe, would you play with fire? Shalt be not but a faggot for our flame! Come, and be consumed!" It took a step from the center, cloven-and-clawed feet finding easy purchase on the piles of dry wood, and reached a hand for the terrified girl.
Sean grabbed her even as her clothing began to smoke, and dragged her away. Impulsively, he reached down for a damp clod and threw it at the fiery figure.
"Eat dirt, son of Musphelheim! Be gone, I say, and take your lawful prey only!" he bellowed.
"May your air be cut off!" Seamus cried out. "Take your lawful prey and go!"
"May the sky open up, and rain upon you!" Erin shouted, even as she leaned on Sean. "Take your lawful prey, and go!"
"Our spirits are against you, son of Musphelheim!" John bellowed. "Take your lawful prey, and go!"
The fire elemental hissed, and dimmed where Sean's wet clod of earth had touched it. Its head snapped around, and a forked tongue sought out Colleen's robes.
"Fire-keeper, seek you war on the sons of Musphelheim? Discipline your children, I say, lest ye all be consumed! You should not call those you do not want!"
She slapped away the flames that sought her robes. "We did not call YOU, son of Surtr! To the Lady Nexus and the Green Lord we sought to commit this impure soul. But if such is your lawful prey, then take it, and go!"
The fire elemental roared heavenward, and shook his red fists at the Circle. "YOU SHALL ALL BURN! SURTR CLAIMS ALL! WE SHALL ROAST YOU, AND FEAST ON YOUR LIVING, BURNT FLESH! COME AND BE CONSUMED, MIDGARD RATS!" it shrieked. It spat out a bright ball of flame that illuminated the glen. "YOU AND YOUR WORLD WILL BURN, BURN, BURN, AND..."
"Put a sock in it, Bull-head." A deep voice rang out of the darkness, and large obsidian arms wrapped around John and Colleen, tugging them safely away from the flames.
"Make it a wet sock," said another voice, as two more figures-seemingly sculpted from ebony-lifted Sean and Erin away from the pyre.
"Can he get any uglier?" commented another black humanoid, pearly teeth flashing in the firelight.
More dark figures appeared out of the darkness, scooping Coven members to safety. Eyes flashed green, or red, or blue, like stars. Their hair was white.
"Nah, he's reached his zenith," one of them said. "He's really only good for scaring children."
An ash pole thumped the ground, and the black giant who had saved Colleen and John stepped between them and the fire elemental.
"ENOUGH of this nonsense, Musphelheim hound! You have no claim on the Children of Lady Nexus and her Consort! Take your lawful prey, and GO!" he thundered.
"Go, Fire-Dog!" shouted another black giant.
"Go back to your kennel," bellowed the one by Sean's side.
"Back to your master!"
"BEGONE!" they shouted as one, and the earth shook beneath them. The bull-faced fire demon bellowed once more, enraged, and the funeral pyre blazed one more time in its fury.
Suddenly the fire winked out. In its place lay nothing but wood ash and a twisted metal frame, which glowed dully.
"Prima donna," muttered one of the black giants.
Colleen gasped, coughed, and rubbed her eyes. "Anyone hurt?" she finally called out.
"No, Colleen, m'dear. We're good, thanks," the black giant chuckled.
She blinked. "Amergin," she finally said, "it has been a long time."
The rest of the Coven gathered around their High Priestess, shivering a little from shock.
"Ma, who is this?" John asked, staring up at the large humanoid.
Seven feet tall, he seemed sculpted out of obsidian, so black that the scant starlight bounced off his skin. White hair cascaded down his shoulders, and antler nubs sprang from the sides of his head. Ivory teeth peeked out of his mouth when he smiled; green eyes twinkled like starlight. The rest of his company seemed identical, save for the color of their eyes. They each wore only a leather cloth on their loins, and carried large ash staves.
"John, my son, and the rest of you of the Crimson Clan," Colleen raised her voice so the other humans could hear her, "behold now your brethren the Lurulan, from Sommerland! This one I know, being acquaintances since I was jest a gal. He is Amergin, mate to Elandria, and sire of Herla."
"The Queen of the Elves?" Erin burst out.
"The Queen of the Light Elves," Amergin corrected her. "We have no consort with the Dark."
"Dark Elves exist?" asked Sean.
"Lad, all kinds of things exist," Amergin chided him.
"But if these are the Lurulan, then that means they are the..." John started.
"Sons of Cernunnos, aye, the same." Amergin nodded.
"The Lady and Lord bless us with yer protection this night, and we are glad!" Colleen began loftily. "May we..."
"Lass, don't be so formal. Father asked us to look in on you, since he and Mother are in Asgard looking for your lost Fire Keeper. We arrived just as the fire-dog started spouting nonsense, and I'm glad we did. The greedy bastard was set to grab more than his legal rights."
"I...I want a beer," Sean muttered.
"Now this one has a good head as well as a good heart," laughed the Lurulan by his side, clapping him on the back. "I'm Celt, by the way. Yonder is Herne, and that's Arawn, Pwyll, Dyffyd, Annwfn, Gwydion, Amathethon, Lugios, Taranis, and Beledios. Which way to the nearest pub?"
"I've some cases of Black Stuff in the truck," John volunteered. "But I dinna think there's enough to go 'round twice."
Amergin laughed. "Twill do for starters, lad. Let's have it now, for battling a Musphelheim dog is thirsty work!" He turned to Erin. "That was a good bit of poetry you shouted, lass. What be your name?"
"Erin," she squeaked.
"Erin du Eire, well met!" Amergin laughed. "A poet and a warrior both! Tell me, were those your own words, or didst quote another?"
"The bit aboot a 'foul dwimmerlake', you mean? Nay, I borrowed that from Tolkien. I just finished reading "Lord of the Rings"," she admitted.
"Eowyn's quote when she faced the Lord of the Nazgul," Dyffyd nodded. "Nice touch!"
"John," Sean said firmly, "Asgard is real, there be antlered black giants who read 'Lord of the Rings' battlin' fire elementals in our circle tonight, and I'm nae drunk. Fixthat!"
John grabbed Sean and Seamus and tore off to his truck. Together the three young men brought back all the beer they could carry, and everyone sat down on the grass.
"To Lady Nexus and Lord Cernunnos!" Colleen lifted her beer in a toast.
"Aye, to Mom and Dad!" Gwidion acknowledged, and tossed back his beer.
"And to the Rede!" Erin piped up. "Do as ye will, but do no harm!"
"Don't forget the rest, Erin m'dear," Colleen said firmly.
"The rest?" the young woman blinked.
"Aye," Amergin nodded fiercly, "'take no shit'." He drained his beer in one long gulp. "Now, about that...
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Reykjavik, Iceland...
Carol did not call during dinner. She did not call at breakfast, either. James took a cab to the police station, and came back with a fuzzy print of Carol's face: a picture taken by the officer who had visited Carol's dormitory. They examined it over lunch in their hotel's elevated restaurant.
"So she's here, at least," he said, scowling. "But why she hasna called is a mystery."
"Are ye sure the officer talked to our Carol, an' no another student?" Bridget fussed.
"There's no that many mulatto folks in Iceland, love, an' even fewer o' them are Irish students," James noted dryly. "This is our gerl," he said, waving the photo for emphasis.
"Let me have a gander o' that, Da," Jami said, suddenly inspired.
James handed his 'other' daughter the glossy photo, and she peered at it.
"This is a lousy picture," she said critically. "Carol's face is nae even in focus. Was yer peeler's camera banjaxed?"
"Nae, an' that's the odd bit. The rest o' his photos were all clear as day," James replied, shaking his head.
"This...this isn't Carol," Jami said coldly. "It's some Iceland tart posin' as her. Carol wouldna wear a pentacle, an' there's one 'round her neck."
"Ye mean someone's disguised as me Carol?" Bridget said, looking ill.
"Nae, Ma. A disguise wouldna turn the picture fuzzy like this. This," Jami tapped the photograph, "is a witch-a powerful one-usin' glamour to take Carol's place. The naked eye is fooled, but the silver in the photo-paper tells the truth."
"Then Carol..." began Bridget...
"Is nae on campus, an' maybe no e'en in Reykjavik," Jami said. "She could be anywhere, or e'en..." Jami's mouth suddenly went dry, and James' hand covered one of hers, which suddenly shook.
"Dinna say it lass," he warned.
Bridget gulped and went white. Standing up from the table they shared, she crossed the floor and looked out over the city. She crossed herself and bent her head, muttered into her Rosary, and then closed her fist around it. James walked over and put his hands on her shoulders.
"We'll find her," he said deeply.
"Aye, she's alright," Bridget said hoarsely. "The Lord already told me through Sister Mary Grace. She's fine. We...we jest have ta find her."
"Bridget," James began cautiously...
"She's fine," Bridget whirled on him, suddenly fierce. "T'was Jami who was in danger, an' not our Carol! We're here to save some innocent child, not me blood an' flesh! She's fine, I say!"
"Bridget," James began again, but Jami cut him off from behind.
"No, Da. She's right. Ma's church sisters prayed up a Messenger-Malakh-Shomer -what turned me away from my house afore it blew up. He the one what sent us to Iceland to begin with, see?"
Bridget hugged her fiercely. "Aye, that's right."
"I say we finish our luncheon, an' then Ma and I hit the town. We'll search till we find sommat. You, Da, you do what-ere it is peelers do when lookin' up dodgy people. Carol was with some Coven members a few weeks ago, workin' on some paper for her religion class. Meybe ye can talk to her perfessors, hey?"
James smiled. "Ye've a good head on yer shoulders, Jami-lass. I'll make a peeler out o' you yet!"
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Ireland...
The group quickly ran out of Guiness, and Amergin pulled a flute from his belt. With a few notes he transformed the remaining boxes and bottles into kegs of dark red wine and drinking glasses, and the mixed group proceeded to sing and share tales.
"Ma," John said, sidling up to Colleen during a quiet moment, "how came ye to know Amergin?"
Colleen sat silently for a moment, staring into the small fire they had kindled. Amergin's summer wine had brought a rosy glow to her face, and a dreamy look John had not seen in a long time.
"T'was many years ago, John, afore I met your father," she began. "I were jest a lass, ye see, and fresh to the Circle. I went out one summer's eve under the starlight to pick some herbs. I wandered a bit too far from me house, and got lost in the woods."
"Gran always said ye had no sense o' direction."
Colleen blushed a little more. "Especially in the dark, aye. I lost me torch, and tried in me folly to feel me way back home through the trees, an' I fell. Twisted me ankle, I did. I had no idea where I was, an' I couldn't see me house or any other, an' on top o' that, a mist come up like they so often do. I set down in the dirt, an' put me back up to a tree, an' started to cry."
"And that's how Amergin found you?"
"Nay, lad. That's how Elandria found her," Amergin spoke up. John gave him a puzzled look. "My mate: Elandria of the snow-white pelt, with a crown of peacock feathers on her head, fairest of the daughters of Cernunnos..."
"Don't get him started, he'll start singing again," Pwyll cautioned. Amergin tossed an acorn at him in response, and grinned.
"You married your sister?" Seamus goggled at Amergin.
"T'is nothing, lad. Where did Cain and Seth get their wives?" Arawn shrugged.
"That's Catholic teachin'; I ne'er gave it any thought," the boy admitted.
"Anyway," Colleen began again, "that's where I was when the Wild Hunt found me. They near ran me over, they did, but I cowered in the roots o' that tree and hid me head in me arms and cried. Elandria, out o' the lot of 'em, heard me an' stopped. She had a soft heart, she did."
"Still does," Amergin nodded.
"How is she?" Colleen's head wobbled a bit in Amergin's direction.
"She fares well, being in Sommerland with our youngest," Amergin answered. "She does nae run with the Hunt like she did when she was single, but looks o'er the fawns and visits Herla in Alfheim."
Colleen smiled. "Aye, bein' a mother changes a gal's life, no matter which realm she be from."
"Well said!" Dyffyd lifted his wine in approval.
"So Elandria stopped, an' found you hurt?" John pressed.
"Aye. She called to her mate here, Amergin, an' betwixt the two o' them they carried me home. They had ta leave me on the outskirts o' our property, an' t'was there yer Aunt Kate found me. She an Mum and Da had become worried when I didna return, and were out looking for me. Amergin and Elandria dropped in ta check on me the next few nights, until the Hunt moved on. Yer Aunt Kate met them, too."
"I ne'er heard this story before, Ma," John said, a little peevishly. "Why..."
Colleen raised her eyebrows at him. "An' when you get to yer job on Monday, what will you tell your lads you did this weekend, son?" She motioned to the Luluran with her head.
"Ummm..." was John's reply.
"Right. Ye'll tell them nothin' other than ye had a bonfire with some o' yer kin an' friends, an' it got a little carried away with a gate-crasher. Say aught more an' they'll think yer off yer nut."
"Tis a pity more folk aren't open minded. This world needs commerce with the others, so it can grow properly," Gwydion opined.
"How is Katie, by the way?" Amergin prodded.
"Is she nae in Sommerland?" Colleen asked, puzzled.
Amergin cocked his head to one side. "Not that I have seen. She was always a smart lass, though. Did she master realm-walking, then?"
"No," Colleen frowned. "She's dead: she an' her consort an' mine were killed in an accident near 6 years ago."
"Then she has left this Circle of the Universe," Taranis offered. "Sommerland is not a place for the Dead."
"So you finished raising her fawn?" Amergin asked. Colleen gave him a blank look. "Jamiann: Katie's girl-fawn. I know she took her ma's place as fire-keeper in your clan; I thought it was your upbringing led her in that direction."
Colleen shook her head. "I would ha' had her in me own house, ya can be certain o' that, but Jami wouldna' have it. Our houses are close, true, but there's a government line what separates school districts between us. She had just lost her ma and da, ye see, and didna want to leave her friends at school as well. She finished oot her secondaries, an' stayed with..." a thoughtful look came over her face, and Colleen dug into a pocket and pulled out Jami's ring. "Blimey, I'm an idjit."
"Ma?" John prodded.
"I know where Jami is, or at least, who she's with." Colleen turned to Amergin. "Ken you an' your lads go onto Catholic grounds?"
"Only if we are invited."
"Tonight," she breathed, "ye will be."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Iceland
Jami opened her hotel window, and Mr. Chee-Chee fluttered inside. He eagerly accepted another gift of seeds and dry fruit, gulping them before fluttering over to her Book of Shadows.
"Chee-Chee-Chee!" he sang, insistently.
"Right," Jami nodded, and pulled out her herbs. Minutes later she had her candles arranged, and pinches of the appropriate herbs in her flash-pot. Mr. Chee-Chee hopped over to her iron powder again, and gave it a peck, so she added a pinch of black grains to the mixture. With her candles finally alight, she began her chant.
"Enemies in this Icy land
Against the wrong witch do you stand!
Visage stealing, misery wielding
From my eyes ye'll not be shielding!
Though to the world a glamour shown
To my eyes shalt all be known.
Eternally marked, so I shall see:
On hands and brows, my enemies!"
Jami touched one taper to the flash-pot, and the selection ignited. A lopsided figure-8 appeared in the smoke above the pot, and was quickly carried out the open window by a breeze.
Jami smiled grimly and re-set her flash-pot. Her next casting was more involved: a combination of the Occluded Mind spell mixed with the Vision of Hearts' Desire. Done properly, any male enemy would NOT recognize her as a foe, but would fall all over himself to please her. Jami did not light these herbs; they were ground and mixed into her hair and make-up instead. Only a powerful rainstorm-or a hot shower-would wipe away the spell.
There were drawbacks, of course. The more lustful enemy could be Occluded to the point of forgetting local law and custom, and seek to forcefully possess his 'heart's desire'. Jami did not rely on magic to protect her from such trash; she carried mace for that.
She struck a boxing pose in front of the mirror, and grinned.
"If it's war ye want, witch, I'll bring it to ye," she gritted.
A knock on the door startled her from her thoughts. It was Bridget.
"Jami, dear, are ye ready to leave yet?"
Jami shooed Mr. Chee-Chee out the window, and closed it.
"Aye, Ma! I'm comin'!"
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Odin's Table Kaffihaus...
Hallbjorn jumped and slapped himself in the face. "OW!" he yelped.
"What?" Svana asked, frowning.
"Something stung me!"
She peered at his forehead. "Hmmm, there's no welt, so it isn't a bee...maybe...OUCH!" She smacked her forehead in like manner, and then both her hands.
Their friends at the next table were likewise slapping themselves. Hallbjorn scowled.
"Damn midges," he growled. "One of us needs to come up with a spell to kill off these cursed black flies."
"That's the first good idea you've had in a while," Svana nodded in agreement.
Hallbjorn scowled and slapped himself again.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
The Abby Garden of St. Michael's Parish...Ireland
Father Francis set another chair down with a 'thud' and wiped his brow. He wasn't getting any younger, but he dared not ask any of the altar boys to help him with the guests he was expecting. Sienna Patrick wasn't the only close-minded bigot in the parish: just the loudest.
He sighed. He would have to weave the topics of tolerance, love, and true evangelism into his next homily.
A twig snapped behind him: Sister Mary Grace held a tea-tray filled with scones. "For your guests, Father," she said simply.
"Thank ye, Mary Grace," he nodded. There was a rustling at the garden gate, and they both turned.
"F...F...F...Francis?" Mary Grace stammered.
The old priest opened his mouth, closed it, and cleared his throat. "Mrs. Draictocha," he finally choked out, "you and your clan are welcome, but who are..."
"They are our friends," Colleen said simply, "and they come peaceably."
"Then they are welcome," Francis finally nodded. He peered at the Lurulan carrying the tipsy oldster. "Amergin?"
"Aye, Frank," the black giant nodded. "It is a night for renewing old acquaintances, it seems."
Sister Mary Grace tugged on his elbow. "I'll get more snacks," she murmured.
"Good idea."