The twins called for the coven and they
came. As soon as Gwyneth had heard what had happened from Bronwyn she set up
the pulse beacon that said ‘Danger! Come
together now’
Those that were able
came as quickly as they could. First there were John, Kathleen, Bronwyn,
George, Stephen, Gwyneth and Owen, directly from The Anchor and then almost immediately after, Myfanwy and Dai.
Elizabeth arrived an hour later, full of apologies; she had been dealing with
some domestic problems. Despite repeated efforts neither Huw nor Angharad could
be reached. By then, anyway, the spell
array had been formed and they would have to join in as best they could if ever
they came.
The eight witches sat
on the ground in the Council Hall with Owen in the middle. He was the conduit
for their spells of assistance, while all the while he sought Celia’s trace,
even though she had gone on into another world. They sat in the spell array
circle – the place in the world where their combined skills could be pooled
most effectively.
Owen was in despair
but he kept trying. He wasn’t sure whether a trace would be visible from the
Outer Void but what else could he do? The others waited, in an agony of
expectancy, also trying to spot the trace.
‘I have something,’
Owen whispered, a few long minutes later, ‘it may just be noise but it’s
something. I have no idea what her trace
would look like through the veil’
‘It’s there – I can
see it…’ said Kathleen, who was concentrating so hard that the veins in her
temple were visible, ‘…she’s alive. ’
There was a babble of
relief, muted cheers and chatter. Then there came a hail of tense conversation.
No-one could hear what anyone was saying.
‘One at a time’
barked Gwyneth, ‘we need to think fast’. The comments came just as quickly, but at
least they were now more digestible.
‘Was that thing sent
by Kratos?’ asked Dai, his deep voice cutting across the others’ words.
‘Yes’ replied John, ‘but
it was intended for Owen. Celia fought it and it pulled her back into the Outer
Void as it expired’
There was a murmur of
shock that reverberated through the group. Everyone wanted to know why.
‘Because he wants to punish
Celia’ John explained, ‘he hates her because she defeated him, but is too
fearful to take her on directly. But we must hurry or he’ll get his wish in a
way that he may not have intended’
Most of the coven was
baffled by this, but now at least they all had enough information to start
making plans.
‘Could we just teleport
her out of there?’ wondered Stephen.
John frowned.
‘That’s hard enough
to do when you know where someone is in our world and you have a really strong
trace – we might catapult her into Helios or Jones knows where’
‘Wouldn’t anywhere be
better than where she is now?’ asked Bronwyn
‘It’s not doable’
muttered George, ‘It would be a huge waste of time and energy. And we might
well kill her’
John could see the
disappointment in everyone’s face
‘Well, she’s still
alive – so that means she’s worked out a spell that will help her’ he said
Kathleen broke her
concentration for a second. Her pale
face was full of resolve.
‘So maybe we should give aid only and not try
to second guess her needs’
There was a murmur of
agreement; they would help her to help herself. The entire coven except for
Owen and Gwyneth grasped each other’s hands to form the circle; Owen remained
sitting in the exact centre of the group. Gwyneth stood slightly outside it and
began to chant the metacathexis[1]
spell; the spell that linked up each witch with every other, and which was a
mantra that had to be repeated until all the witches were linked. This formed a
criss-cross pattern of lines of force with Owen at the focal point – he would
act as the conduit for all the magical energy.
One by one they whispered their personal unlocking words and one by one
they fed their energy into the array.
The witches
contributing to the array were now locked into the system – it was as if they
were asleep or under sedation. The spell
shut off everything except the accumulation and distribution of the magical
energy and their most basic physiological processes. A participant could
struggle out of their half-paralysed locked-in state, but only with difficulty.
The original mantra chanter, in this case Gwyneth, had to stay out of the array
or it could neither be completed nor guarded.
Owen, free to act but
burdened with an excess of power, murmured ‘chyfnertha’
and probed Celia’s trace in his mind map. The energy that would assist her
spells was now building up around him, visible as a rainbow aura around his
body. He concentrated the colours together into a ball of crackling white light
and then tried to force it into the trace. In the physical world the light ball
thinned into a cord and then poured through space connecting, they assumed, to
where Celia had disappeared. There was a cacophonous hum, like a thousand
violins tuning up at once. The hall was
filled with the pungent smell of rotten apples; by this stage, however, only
Gwyneth noticed it.
A neat hole had been
seared into their world and through it the white light entered the blue world.
Gwyneth could see nothing on the other side as the hole was only just big
enough to allow the light through. She could only wait and hope that it was
doing some good.
She gasped. Her voice
cracked with tension.
‘What are we doing?
It seems such a long shot’
‘Whatever it is’ shouted Owen, ‘I think it’s working’
No comments:
Post a Comment