Fatal Circle

I knew this place could be so much more. To find it lacking just now, with the sad duty we had before us, made holding back my tears more difficult.

Xerxadrea stood before one of the stone benches. She wore white robes, and her hair, parted in the center, fell loose about her shoulders. Single white strands rose on air currents and afforded an extra measure of mystery to her magical countenance.

In one hand she held her broom; the other was just removing a black velvet sling bag from her shoulder. When she settled, Ruya landed where the bag’s strap had lain. “Water is the element of the west, and this is the western bench,” she said. “Come summer, it will overlook the spray of water, but be in the shade of roses.”

“Perfect.” Menessos moved into position beside her at the stone bench. She furnished him with items from inside the velvet bag and he quickly arranged the bench as if it were an altar. As he worked, I studied him. He was dressed in a suit as stylish as any he wore, but next to Xerxadrea’s ceremonial garb he almost seemed incongruous.

He lit a pair of illuminator candles and placed a dried starfish in the center, made a ring of eight white candles around it, and ended by creating a ring of aquamarines and tiny shells outside of that. Xerxadrea passed the velvet bag to me to hold. As an afterthought, I slipped it over my head and underneath one arm as Xerxadrea had carried it. She must have been distracted not to simply do this herself.

Menessos removed his suit jacket and he passed it to me. I shoved it quickly into the bag. The candlelight showed a subtle white-on-white pattern to his shirt. He and Xerxadrea now seemed more compatibly attired, enough to perform a funeral rite.

At Menessos’s signal, Goliath came forward and held out the bundle. Menessos took the swathed body into his arms and cradled it, saying,

His aura pulsed, sending out energy he didn’t have to spare. In response, just behind the bench, the rich black earth writhed. At the roots of a rosebush, the ground opened up to accept what Menessos had offered. Roots reached up, waving in the air in a ma

The body sank as the ground received her and conveyed her deep enough not to be found by the groundskeepers.

I intended to let this moment of grief pass, and offer some of my energy—not blood—to him soon. After all, I had my bloodstone back at the haven. I could draw some energy for myself out of it if I needed.

Xerxadrea faced the sky and whispered something to Ruya, who took to the air, clutching something in her talons. I had to wonder what. Curiously watching the Eldre

Xerxadrea stamped the wooden handle end of her broom onto the stone pathway and cried out, “Afflatus!” Air whooshed outward from her, shoving the vampires and me backward, knocking away leaves, and propelling small, unanchored things like fairies into the air, tumbling as if shoved.

Fairies!

In the next instant, Xerxadrea had settled onto her broom and seized Menessos by the arm. “Come!” He fell across the broomstick and they shot into the air.

I straddled my broom and glanced at Goliath. I couldn’t leave him. The fairies had already killed one of their own to wound Menessos, they’d surely kill Goliath if they could. “C’mon!” I shouted.

He didn’t move.

The broom lifted me aloft and as much as possible I tucked the toes of the boots up behind me.

A fireball zoomed through the air toward me. Beau’s charm grew warm against my skin. The fiery blast shifted and hit the stone pathway. Luckily, Goliath had leaped clear the opposite way, and crouched beside the next bench. I heard the skittering laughter of fairies. That fireball meant one thing: fire fairies. Fax Torris is here!

“Now!” I shouted, gliding swiftly in to get him and concentrating on drawing protective energy back out of the jaspers and into my aura.

From the tree, fairy shot filled the air like a gray cloud descending on Goliath. He stood and ran toward me, but not before one of the little arrows slammed into his cheek.

Another bolt of fire flashed in just as he leaped for the broom.

The charm warmed again.

Menessos still dangling, Xerxadrea zoomed by—and the fireball was gone.

Goliath latched onto the broom handle. It didn’t even dip under the new weight. He heaved himself up like a gymnast on the uneven bars, doubling himself over the broom. Not a pretty position, but it worked. We flew up, but before I could rocket away Goliath pointed at a large jagged circle of broken glass and bent steel below us. He shouted, “They went into the Glass House!”

Intention sent us speeding back to it. I gauged the size of the hole. “Tuck your feet up.”

“Fuck that! Drop me in and you follow!”

I didn’t have time to make two passes. Leaning low across the small of his back, I took hold of the hem of his pants and yanked so his legs came alongside the broom. It rolled him uncomfortably on the broom handle; I didn’t care.

He swore, but knowing I was doing this my way, he twisted more to comply. He reached for my ankle and lined his torso along the broom’s other side. We were as lean as we could get.

I angled straight down and dropped through the broken greenhouse roof, intending the broom to level off at the base of the huge Strangler Fig tree. We landed.

Goliath smoothed his suit as he stood. The fairy shot, which resembled a barbed toothpick, was still stuck in his cheek. He jerked it loose, swore, and a

“Duh.” I could hear the alarm buzzing in the hallways beyond the area.

“Incoming!”

As we scurried under the tree, I realized the steel structure and the iron mesh in the glass panes would keep the fairies out, but standing under the hole open to the sky made us easily accessible targets.

The fireball hit the edge of the gaping hole in the structure above us. Some sparks showered down, but mostly it stuck there and burned.

Strategically, I wasn’t sure why we were here. The fey could have flown and followed us in our retreat, so sheltering here had the merit of stopping pursuit. But now all they had to do was wait until the alarm brought human authorities who would escort us out—probably in handcuffs.

Was their plan to get the police to arrest us for breaking and entering? The discredit might amount to something, but how would that help them?

Into the darkness of the Costa Rican exhibit, Goliath called, “Master?” loud enough to be heard over the din of the alarm and the waterfall.

“Here.”

They were waiting on the other side of the waterfall. Goliath and I sprinted across the little wooden bridge. Well, Goliath sprinted. Sprinting in these boots was ridiculous and impossible. I walked quickly.

Menessos was huddling over Xerxadrea, and when I saw that her broom lay in two pieces beside them, my heart seemed to stop.