Ritual Magic (7 page)

My body began to relax at my mantra as the
power subsided slowly in ebbs of gradual ease. Slowly my breathing
became steady, even. My head was able to move back to its regular
position while my eyelids fluttered down to rest long lashes on my
cheeks. After one final calming breath, I opened my eyes to see who
was now standing before me in full corporal form.

Well, in a word, he was a
god
—strong,
broad, and impossibly tall. Really, I think this guy was a real
god—he was at least ten feet tall! My chin popped open as I gaped
up at this man, hoping that he wouldn't move even one step closer
to me because I sincerely didn't want to find out the answer to the
age-old question about men and their kilts. My mind was totally NOT
going there with
this
guy—it just seemed so
wrong
to
think about him that way at all.

My mind raced as I accessed any bit of
information about this man-god before me.
Damn! Nothing!
I
shook my head and leaned back on the heel of my right foot. It
looked like my legs were free to work now that Mr. Muscles had
decided to show up.

"May I ask where I am?" My voice was
emotionless—my questioning voice.
Good.

The giant looked down at me and crossed his
arms, leaning back a tiny bit so that he could look down at me over
his enormous pecs. It was like he was a bouncer keeping me out of
the hottest nightclub in town.

"The Void," was his simple reply.

Yeah, it pretty much fit the name.
My
body did a full 360 degree rotation as I took in details of my
surroundings that I hadn't been able to take stock of before. I
could see the ocean just past the mist...and there was a beach
although there had been nothing for the past few hours... My eyes
went straight to his churning orbs stuck under two bushy eyebrows.
Honestly, looking him straight in the eyes should have made me
queasy but it didn't—it actually brought me calm and strength. I
could feel the power of the ocean surging through me instead of
trying to destroy me.
The power of the ocean
. My forehead
furrowed. I could feel the worry lines forming already.

The giant rolled his eyes as he continued to
look down at me over his forearms, a distinctive air of displeasure
rolling off of his swelling muscles and down towards me and my
helpless frustration.
Nope, he looks annoyed with me. Why does
that not bother me as much as it should?

"So...another question please." My voice
shook with a tiny touch of panic.

"Yeeeeesss?" He drew out the word so long
that I could tell that he couldn't
wait
to get the
conversation over with. My womanstincts (you know, a mix between
woman's intuition and your natural instincts) were screaming that I
needed to get the show on the road. So I did.

"What have you brought me here for?" My eyes
zeroed in on his massive face and my strength instantly began to
wane as my knees wobbled uncontrollably.

His was the face of a bull mastiff if you
know anything about dogs.
That
particular dog has a face as
wide as your chest in certain instances.
That
dog has a face
that looks like it's been smashed up against a glass window all of
its life.
That
dog has a mouthful of teeth that are just
intimidating enough to make you pee yourself if you ever have the
misfortune to be growled at by one in close proximity. How do I
know? Don't ask.

The giant, let's call him Andre, looked
around the void as he uncrossed his arms to allow them to drift
down to his sides. Confusion had the nerve to flash across his
mastiff face and a huge question mark seemed to form over his
monster-sized head.

"What da ye
mean
'what have ye
brought me here fo'? I did 'na bring ye here, lass." He shook his
head as he began to pace around me, clearly assessing the goods.
Honestly, his scrutiny was much weirder than even Leo (my now sworn
protector and demon king friend) checking me out from head to toe.
It was absolutely unsettling...and creepy.

Something struck me as I fought not to cover
myself with my shaky hands. "You weren't speaking with an accent
before...why now? And what is that? Scottish brogue? Are you
kidding
me?" A laugh escaped my lips until I caught his
warning glance. He had a stern air about him but, for a brief
moment, I felt more in control of the direction we were headed. I
had no idea why, but it felt like the situation had shifted in one
way or another.

Andre's eyes flashed and he opened his mouth
slowly. "I canna... cannot help how my words come out sometimes. I
am the ocean—I touch many continents and am made up of many, many
unique cultures. Lives lost at sea—they have become a part of me,
forever sharing my space, pulsing through my veins." He clenched a
fist and shook his head slightly as he looked at me through
narrowed slits for eyes. "I did
not
bring you here, Raven.
You did. I answered your summons, which is truly unusual because I
do NOT answer to humans." He stood back on one heel and looked me
up and down, "But you are
not
a typical human it seems." His
eyes continued to dissect me and then he began to smile.
He
actually smiled
and it sparkled with bright white teeth that
stood strikingly against his rich golden skin.
Dang, he's
handsome in some overly masculine, muscular kind of way. But what
had he been saying? What was that about the ocean?

"The O
cean?
" I put one hand on my hip
and waved around the void as if I were referring to the lack of
décor. "Are you kidding me with the 'I
am
the Ocean' bit? A
little full of ourselves are we?" I laughed, which came out more as
a sharp bark as he continued to smile down at me, his eyes swirling
with freshly brewed foam from the crashing waves.

"You sound just like your mother." He
laughed. "'Dylan, you are so full of yourself. It's a good thing
the sky over the ocean is endless or there wouldn't be enough room
for you and the moon both.' Now THAT woman knew how to work a god,
I'll tell you what!" He chuckled to himself as he continued to walk
around me.

A sudden piercing fear ran through me, but
it wasn't the fear of being killed or checked out by a god. No. It
was the fear that you get when you are caught by your dad sneaking
in the back window from a night of who knows what.

"You knew my mother?" While I was asking the
words, I was listening to myself at the same time. It felt as if I
were a thousand miles away from the conversation and, for some
strange reason, it felt...safer.

"Of course I knew your mother!" He nodded
down at me, "I loved her madly. She was one of the most unique
humans I had ever met. Her love for the ocean was almost comparable
to yours. Your passion for the ocean is for other reasons, but she
loved me because she was drawn to my natural essence, my love for
life and the smell of the brine. It was as if she had been made for
me—a woman of strength and beauty, tied to nature. She had talents
beyond compare, that woman. She was something special, she was." He
was slipping back into another accent. Was it English? I was
getting a flash of
My Fair Lady
as I eyed
him suspiciously.

"And that would make you..." my voice
trailed off.
Did I really want to know who this crazy man really
was? Be my crazy uncle Andre...please be my crazy uncle
Andre.

"Your father." He stated simply as he arched
an enormous eyebrow and looked down at me with a 'Don't mess with
your
father,
little girl' look.

I was basically stupefied—I could
practically feel the drool pooling in my mouth and I snapped my
mouth shut before my jaw could begin its descent.
My
father...the Ocean
. "Okaaaay, let's say I believe you..."
and I don't
. "What would I possibly want to call you for?
Someone that I didn't even know existed and still don't believe in.
Nope, you aren't the Ocean...you can't be." The shock was beginning
to wear off and I stood my ground by crossing my arms, mocking the
way that he had earlier, lifting my chin slightly to accentuate my
newfound stubborn attitude.

He cleared his throat and it sounded like
thunder rumbling in the mist around us. "Yes, well, I suspect that
you were calling for your powers to be returned. It was time, you
know, because the prophecy must be fulfilled." He shifted,
obviously uncomfortable with the conversation. Andre the Giant was
uncomfortable with the conversation, and I must admit, I was
curious as well.

"Have my powers...been returned?" My voice
spiked in shock. "What do you mean by that, Andre? I
mean...Dylan?"

"It's Father to you, young lady. I don't
care how old you get—you must show respect to your God Father." He
laughed to himself, chuckling underneath his rumbling breath, "That
never gets old." He smiled to himself because I was clearly not
returning the smile.
LAME!

"My...Godfather?" I shook my head as I
rolled my eyes in his general direction. "Very punny, Dad. How many
children have you used
that
one on?"
Wait, how many
siblings do I have?
"And that has got to be the
oldest
God joke in the history of jokes, I'm sure."
Ouch, my head hurts
from the painful joke
. I rubbed my temples in deep circles.

Dylan looked down at me as if he was getting
ready to draw a conclusion. "You are the true prodigy that your
mother said you would be. She swore that if I gave her a child,
that the child would be a rare individual of unmatched talents." He
nodded as his eyes drank me in from top to bottom, like a father
finally accepting that his child was a true miracle. "She was
correct. And of course, I would never refuse that woman anything
she ever wanted."

"Me?! A
prodigy?
HA! You have GOT to
be kidding! I'm nothing! I can't even control where I zap myself
most of the time!" I shook as I listened to my voice spike
unexpectedly.

"That was the Fates manipulating your powers
there, child. Not you."

"The Fates?!" My brain was attacking my
heart—the speed of my pulse spiking and quaking in my ears. "Why?"
My voice shook again but I didn't care. I had to know what was
happening to my life, and I had to know
now
.

"Because they had to." Simple question.
Simple answer.

"Why?!"

"Because."

"I don't get it, Dad.
" Ick, ick, ick!
"Why would the
Fates
send me anywhere?"

"Because they had ta', girl!" He bellowed as
he turned his back on me to walk around in the mist. Yes, that was
what we needed at the moment—a leisurely stroll. "You would never
have been able ta' attend all of the events of the prophecy without
their help, child." Again his words were tinted with his Scottish
brogue accent. It was kind of growing on me, actually.

"What events? What
prophecy
?" My
voice was beginning to quake with confusion and anger. Maybe I
didn't get my temper from my mother. Maybe, just maybe, it was
Andre here that was the source of all of my issues.

Sighing, Dylan pointed and said, "Sit. We
need to talk."

"Sit? On what?" I looked around behind me
and found two well-stuffed chairs that could have been straight
from a showroom floor. Hmm, Dad had good taste—they were lush
looking, covered in rich green-blue colors. Looking up at him in
surprise, I walked over to one and ran my hand over the closest
seat. It was like touching velvet—soft and smooth, and even cool to
the touch. "It's cool." My surprise was obvious in my voice.

"Memory foam." He nodded as I took my seat
and then he walked over to his chair and eyed it. His chair was
definitely going to give him problems if he tried to sit down in
it. Actually, getting
out
was going to be the problem
because of the average size. Snapping his fingers as he turned to
sit down, the chair reached out and grew to the exact proportions
that were necessary for his monstrous form.
Wow.
Even though
I had watched the entire spectacle, I doubted that I would be able
to convince anyone that I had seen that happen. Who would believe
me anyway? I was basically having a conversation with a god who was
now sitting in a memory foam chair that was the size of ten of my
chairs put together. The difference in the chair sizes accentuated
that I was the proverbial child and he was the...well, god.

"Look, Raven." His American accent was back
when he leaned over and rested his elbows on his huge knees. "I
wish your mother was around to talk to you about this instead of
me. She always said that you were going to make a difference, and
that she and I were good together." He shook his head as his eye
color deepened and the waves began to swirl into whirlpools of
emotions. "How a simple human woman would be able to know something
about the future like that is beyond me."
Mother was definitely
not simple—I can tell without even remembering her. Why can't I
remember her?

"Where is she?" The question fell flat
because it didn't sound like I had any vested interest in finding
out. My heart knew better, though.

"That isn't really the matter at hand at
this very moment, Raven." He shook his head.

"Where. Is. She?" My words were sharp and
rude, but I kept my eyes on him for fear that he would escape the
conversation if I didn't.

Throwing me a short, guilty glance, he
turned his head away and sighed. "Look, your mother was an
extremely powerful shaman. She was incredibly talented and strong.
Her people were blessed with extreme longevity because of her
skills and even now, when she is gone, her blessing still touches
them."

I thought about that for a second. There was
actually a loud click in my head as I put a couple of impossible
ideas together. "Gabriel." Well, that made sense. Gabriel was as
old as I was and didn't look a day over 29. Being over 150 years
old really made a woman feel older than she needed to be, even when
magic held the years at bay. Well, that explained quite a bit
because, according to my memories, he was not an immortal being and
neither was I. We had both clearly been touched by the blessing
that my mother had bestowed on the tribe. On our people. Our
decrepitly old, ancient and hot people.