Magick Rising (47 page)

to orchestrate destinies for us beyond reasonable chance to change them by

our own design or choice.”

“Once I began to recover, I trained with the sword to gain strength and

mental focus. An inner drive to fight drove me, so I followed that path.”

Erik offered his arm again, and they walked. “You mentioned we were

fighting together against something when . . .” He motioned toward his

side. “Yes, we fought something, someone—Victor—and I believed until

very recently that we’d won. Now, I see the battle was only delayed.”

“Maybe my subconscious carried the mark of that time, steering me to

fight.” Erik stopped. “Tell me what happens when I change. You mentioned

things I’ve done. I’ve hurt you. Why can’t I remember?”

Celeste could see doubt in his expression. How would she be able to get

him to trust her, to be convinced that the things she shared with him were

true? It all felt surreal to her, and she remembered every second, every

nuance of the drama they were trapped in.

How would a man with no memory of it respond to the telling?

Taking a fortifying breath she stopped and faced him. Taking his hands

in hers, Celeste told him all she knew.

She prayed it was enough.

Or all of them were doomed.

Along with mankind.

ROSE WATCHED THE couple walking and talking together. The

culmination of centuries of working to bring Erik back come to fruition in

front of her. But, at what cost?

Shaking her head, Rose absently washed and rinsed the dishes in the

sink before placing them in the drainer. All of her children had been special

to her, the six daughters before Celeste held pieces of Rose’s heart though

they were long gone.

Since none had been born with magic in them, they’d lived out the

normal span of a human life, uneventful and unknowing of the fate that the

youngest met. When Celeste had been born with the mark of a witch in the

center of her back, Rose—a seventh daughter—realized even as her life’s

blood would not be stemmed from the difficult birth, that her seventh

daughter would have abilities beyond what Rose could comprehend.

Rose’s own second sight had shown her that this child would be her

last, that she would not survive the birthing of it. On her deathbed she

begged any entity of magic within hearing to allow her to protect this child

on what her sight showed her would be a long and dangerous path. Her plea

had been answered but at the cost of Rose’s soul. Nor could she reveal any

of the deal to Celeste. Doing so would force Rose to cross over. Celeste

would be alone and unprotected.

The bleeding of childbirth stopped long enough for Rose to contact the

brotherhood at Montbleu. She’d known of them for years but now sent for

the head priest, Sebastian. Taking him into her confidence, Rose showed

him the mark on Celeste and explained the power of the sevenths and

begged him to take the child and raise her, protect her and teach her the

ways of white magic so that the dark magic would not tempt her. He’d

agreed. Rose’s husband had been only too happy to have the new mouth to

feed, another daughter no less, taken and raised elsewhere.

Rose passed knowing she would see her daughter again, could watch

over her family from afar. Each lifetime her form was altered, but her heart

and mind were the same. She always found Celeste.

Exhaustion pressed down on Rose. The weariness of so much time

caught up to her. This would be the last battle she’d fight with her daughter,

one Rose had to ensure they won so that Erik could take her place.

Erik was the one to protect and watch over Celeste now.

But, how?

VICTOR HATED THE in-between. So much wasted time he spent here in

limbo. Matterless and powerless with the other formless beings in this

wasteland that housed unbound souls.

The night of his gaining of the dark magic then partial bondage by Erik

and Celeste had only made him hunger even more for all that was denied

him.

Damn my parents
!

Ignorant peasants that they’d been, when they’d seen the mark of magic

on their twins, they’d immediately sent them to the priests to be raised. Erik

was born first, their seventh son. Victor, born only moments late, was

relegated to the status of the eighth son.

Chosen
.

The vile stench of this formless space drove him closer to insanity.

How could a place with no landscape, no light, housed by beings with no

form, have an odor? It wasn’t logical.

It was the stench of desperation.

Victor hated that incongruency.

His parents he hated, but his brother—his twin—Victor wanted to

destroy. But only in the right way—the way that would take Victor from

being a measly eighth son to an all-powerful seventh son of a seventh son.

If he could dispel Erik’s essence once and for all and absorb his power

as well, Victor could have a body to house him and make it possible to

achieve his second goal. The goal that would ensure the fulfillment of

Victor’s desire to rule this earthly dimension.

By joining with the seventh daughter once he was the seventh son,

Victor would be nearly unstoppable.

Even without the Grimoire.

But to achieve ultimate power, he needed both. Celeste and the book.

The book still eluded him, just as it had eluded him during his training

with the priests. While his brother was chosen by the Grimoire as a

protector, Victor was not. The Grand Grimoire chose its secret keepers, its

workers of magic. All else would never find the book and its spells. Unless

the Grimoire chose to reveal itself. Why did it choose Erik and Celeste to

share knowledge with but not Victor?

By possessing her, Victor would not only have the combined power of

the sevens, he would rule and control the Grimoire. If Victor were the only

one possessing magic left in this dimension, the book would have to choose

him as its keeper.

It was all, finally, within reach.

Once he murdered Erik.

AFTER WALKING WITH Celeste for over an hour and listening to her

version of his past—their past, Erik wasn’t sure if her words were true or

clever stories designed to pull him further into something he didn’t

understand. She’d had answers to most of his questions, but he hadn’t asked

the one that burned darkest.

What were we, are we, to each other
?

She left him to return to the castle.

Truth or clever lies? Erik wanted to believe that what Celeste told him

were words he could believe, but why should he? His every fiber might be

aware of her as a woman, but she had stabbed him. Lifetimes ago.

After Celeste explained how Victor had deceived them, tricked them

into exposing a portal into dark magic. Victor had immediately started

incantations to summon demons through to him. Together, Erik and

Celeste had used the Grimoire to find a way to keep that from happening. It

had cost him his life. By his choice. Or so she claimed

How could Erik be sure he wasn’t being used as a pawn in some bigger

scheme not yet clear?

Who was he when not himself? How did Celeste know this other man

who possessed him? What had they been to each other? She claimed this

other man was Erik’s brother, but was even that true?

Too damned many questions
.

No answers.

Used to being in control of men and armies, it was unacceptable that

anyone or anything should have power over him. One way or another, Erik

would be rid of this Victor and would end his own wanderings.

Damn the wall that blocked his memories. There had to be a way to

destroy it.

I’ll find a way or die trying
.

Returning to the castle through the side arched doorway that Celeste

had used earlier, Erik followed an urge that led him to the great room. It was

empty.

The fire cracked and popped, casting shadows about the room.

He sensed a pulsing in the air, a waiting. Erik knew he was not alone.

This other being had been present when he entered the chamber.

His warrior’s senses were on high alert to the possibility of attack.

Every nerve ending raw, Erik’s eyes scanned every corner and crevice

as he held his body motionless. Every muscle tensed with the waiting.

Would the other attack? Who was it? What was it?

Finally, after what felt like hours but was no more than the passing of a

breath, Erik caught the shadow line in his peripheral vision. His arm lashed

sideways and encountered a solid form but smaller than a man or woman,

though he could see nothing.

That nothing was firm in his grasp now. As though from the air, Erik

pulled the formless mass toward him, placing a second hand on the other

nonexistent edge.

Staring down, Erik tried to see without seeing. Tried to look past the

obvious of this dimension, to tap into the dormant powers Celeste claimed

he had and that he somehow knew existed within him. He believed her.

Suddenly the form flickered.

A book
?

Maybe this was The Grand Grimoire Celeste told him about. The book

that held so much power, so much evil and good within its hand sewn

bindings.

In his hands now, showing faintly with the refracted firelight, an ancient

tome lay in his grasp. It became more solid and tangible as he stared at it.

The pulse he’d sensed seemed to come from within the book.

What the hell? That’s impossible
.

He knew it wasn’t. After the lifetimes he’d lived wondering what had

come before, Erik knew that this would be the lifetime when all would be

revealed or all would be ended.

Or both.

Either way he was ready.

Erik opened the book.

CELESTE CHOPPED vegetables as Rose whisked spices into the boiling

broth on the stove. Dinner preparations had always been a time of quiet and

bonding for them. A time to talk and share.

Brogan had driven out of the drive with the last of the day’s fading light.

Erik still sat reading by the fireside in the great room.

Knowing the Grimoire recognized Erik and revealed itself to him gave

Celeste a feeling of rightness. She’d come upon him deep into reading the

ancient text and had slipped quietly from the room without disturbing his

studies and solitude.

“How do you know it is him and not the other with the book?” Rose

sipped broth from a wooden spoon to test the flavor while waiting for

Celeste to respond.

“Sebastian showed us, taught us, the Grimoire chooses who it reveals

to. Erik and I were the only students Sebastian ever trained who were able to

see the book, much less open and decipher its powers. Victor never could.”

Celeste stopped chopping for a moment. “He told us that the Grimoire

would never willingly allow itself to be used for true evil.”

Rose nodded solemnly. “I pray that is true.”

Silently, Celeste prayed, too.

Later, following a meal served in the kitchen, the three of them worked

together to clear the dishes. Conversation had been minimal.

Since their talk and his time spent reading the Grimoire, Erik’s

expression had grown even more closed and dark.

“Is something bothering you, Erik?” Celeste wanted to find a way to

connect again as they’d seemed to when they’d walked and shared earlier.

“The book,” Erik paused for a moment before continuing, “Are the

words supposed to fade and reappear? A certain phrase moves and shows

up on other pages. Drives me crazy.”

Celeste looked at Rose then back at Erik, trying to conceal her

excitement. “No, it’s okay. What’s happening is a good thing.”

Erik paced back and forth before stopping in front of her. “Why?”

“The Grimoire reveals itself only to certain people and from others it is

completely hidden.” Celeste touched the back of his hand to make sure he

was focused on her words. “It has not only shown itself to you, but is trying

to tell you something with the words it reveals. Do you remember the

phrase?”

Erik stepped backward, breaking the contact of her hand on his. “It

doesn’t make sense to me, but the book feels familiar. A memory I can

almost grab.”

“The phrase is important, Erik.”

Will he trust me with it
?

They needed to work together against Victor and were almost out of

time. Celeste could feel the sands running out as though it were a tangible

thing. How could she convince Erik that he could trust her again?

Erik stared at Celeste for a few seconds, seeming to measure her. “It’s

in Latin.
Duo mortem pro vita. Sperate data in facie ultimum proditione fortissimum est

potentia
. Not sure why I can read it but can’t translate most of it.”

Rose gasped silently, a hand to her mouth. Celeste stared from Erik to

Rose.

“It translates to: Two
must die for one to live. Trust given in the face of ultimate