The Dying Art of Magic Read online

  There would be no memorial service for Nathalia. They couldn’t risk an investigation. Too many secrets here. The Guardian assured her that Nathalia received the greatest honor and was laid to rest in their most holy place. The Guardians handled the cleanup and bodies. Michael, Nathalia’s teenage abuser, also died that night in her private quarters.

  Michael had been stalking and killing couples in Maeve’s matchmaking record book. Those murders tainted the Daughters’ white energy. That black magic damaged anyone who tried to use the communal power, and it hurt the Capacitors every second that it remained. The Capacitors were women who made the ultimate sacrifice to store energy made by Maeve’s couples. Power that all Primos could pull from. Michael’s connection to and power over Nathalia enabled him to do this and she chose to end her own life rather than permit the blasphemy to continue.

  Jolie saw it all in one of her prophetic dreams, but at the time, so entrenched in symbolism was the warning that no one saw the danger until it was too late. Nathalia had known her death was coming, but not the reasoning behind it. She tried to ensure Maeve was happy and would lead the Daughters after her demise by allowing her to date Aaron. Maeve owed her oldest friend, now gone from the world, for her greatest joy.

  Jolie reached over and placed her hand over Maeve’s. “Sorry. I know you’re not allowed to talk about it.”

  Maeve smiled at Jolie, “Don’t worry about it. I always thought she and I would share this motherhood experience. You’re a good friend; I’m lucky to be going through this with you, Jolie. It’s just that I really miss her.” They sat for a moment, holding hands and thinking about their former Abbess Primo, before Maeve went on. “Is it the dreams that make you ask?”

  Jolie shook her head yes, “Even though I know it can’t be true, I feel like I’m seeing Nathalia’s future.”

  “Like what? Tell me about the most recent dream.” Jolie’s dreams clearly upset her and Maeve’s duty included ministering to the needs of all her sisters. But more than that, Maeve was curious. If she hadn’t seen all that blood and Nathalia’s pale limp body, her own dream would have her convinced Nathalia still lived.

  “I see Nathalia working and worshiping Inanna in a great ziggurat. It’s definitely ancient times. There are dancing and celebrations of the seasons and of various phases of the moon and of Venus. She seems happy. She talks to one woman a lot, in a language I don’t understand. I get the feeling that the small woman is the high priestess or maybe even Inanna herself.

  “Most of the time I dream that I’m watching,” Jolie continued, “but lately I’ve been having a dream where I am Nathalia. It’s weird to actually see through someone else’s eyes. I’m deep underground, resting on a bed of marble, in a maze of hallways and round rooms carved out of stone. I think I’m alone but then I find a man of stone. I want him, like want him, want him. I want him to come alive and ravage me. I’m filled with thoughts of what he could do to my naked body. Well, her naked body. The desire to have sex with him drives out every other thought when I touch the statue. It’s like being high.”

  Maeve thought about it for a second, keeping her facial expressions neutral. That strong of an attraction to a male didn’t sound like Nathalia, who cringed at the thought of having men near her. Jolie must be mistaken but Maeve didn’t want to discourage her sharing.

  “But when the statue comes to life and reaches out for me, I get scared and run away. I trip and fall on the edge of an underground lake. After the ripples die down, my reflection comes into focus. I am definitely Nathalia; I can see her face staring back up at me, but there’s something wrong with my eyes. Her eyes, I mean. They’re sparkling and multicolored, like opals. They’re beautiful and I can’t look away, but as Nathalia, I think, I’m one of them now.”

  Multicolored opal-like eyes sounded vaguely familiar, like Maeve had seen someone like that or thought that same description. Try as she might she couldn’t remember the circumstances. She didn’t have long to think about it before the cell phone in her pocket buzzed. When Nathalia was Abbess, she used her telepathy to call other sisters or give instructions and orders to groups, but Maeve was a matchmaker, not telepathic and relied on technology to keep her in touch with the sisters.

  She took the tiny phone out of her sweater pocket and saw that it was Camilla. Camilla was their Panacea, a rare type healer of the highest level: Primo. Her skill lies solely in the ability to remove that which did not belong, the alien body attacking or feeding off a person. It made her especially good at curing cancer, but made her dangerous for anyone with child. Her ability could not differentiate between a wanted pregnancy and a parasite. Any close proximity to a pregnant woman would lead to an accidental abortion. A heavy burden to bear, but one Camilla took very seriously. Her magical specialty allowed the Capacitors to last longer than any other sect’s under the strain of constant white energy. Camilla banished herself to the storage room since the day they found out Maeve and Jolie were pregnant.

  Maeve put up her pointer finger to Jolie, signaling “one minute,” and answered the call. Maeve knew that she would only call if there was good reason and with Camilla, that reason would concern the Capacitors. Camilla didn’t speak much, and when she did, it was all business.

  Maeve didn’t even get a chance for a greeting. “…No, I didn’t order any work, but I haven’t put a ban on using communal power since I lifted it after Nathalia removed all the black energy… No, nothing big… I don’t know, but I’ll get them some more right now. Start calling Primos and have them put a hold on any pulls. Don’t worry about Jolie; she’s here. I’ll tell her.”

  Maeve stood as she closed her phone and she gestured that Jolie follow her. They left the pictorial peace of the zen garden and headed back across the green grass slope up to the main building that held living quarters. She explained on the way, “Camilla says that the Capacitors are almost completely drained of power. There’s an official ban on pulls from stored power starting immediately. Meanwhile, you and I and any other matched couples we run into, have to work on charging them back up.”

  There was only one way to do that. Sex. Not just sex, but gratifying, knee weakening, multi-orgasmic ecstasy. Sometimes being a Daughter of Women had some really big perks.

  MAEVE SAT at the desk typing away at the computer. Forty-two emails this morning. She scanned them absentmindedly, sorting them. She discarded two dozen immediately. They informed her that this or that friend had commented on her social media post. She jotted down a note to remind herself to have Aaron turn off all those notices. They filled her in-box every day.

  The midmorning sun streamed in from the windows to her right. She heard Aaron snoring lightly from the adjoining room, even though the door was closed. She smiled at the sound. After the performance he had just given in their bedroom, he deserved a nap. Aaron was the rarest breed of man. He was a Levitus, the only recorded one ever, capable of supercharging the Capacitors. He was such a sensitive and attentive partner that when he and Maeve made love, the white energy generated equaled that of ten couples.

  The Capacitors were clear of the dangerously low power levels they reached this morning, but Maeve still had no idea why it drained so quickly. No Primo would ever be so greedy or careless. She worried that someone outside the inner circle gained the knowledge and was rakishly using. Just a few months ago, Michael learned of their inner magic workings and devised a way to hurt their holy sisters. He died, thanks to Nathalia, but Maeve wondered if this could be a second occurrence.

  Just before she deleted it, the subject line of the last email grabbed her attention. It said, “Your Guardian’s no angel.” That statement came as no surprise to Maeve. She knew he had a temper, an ego, and more than a few notches on his bedpost. What struck her was that whoever wrote this had called him her Guardian. Guardian was an inside term the Daughters used to describe these few men who devoted their lives to the Council of Esteemed Elders. In exchange for their devotion, the Council gave them access to power when nor
mally no man would be allowed.

  Maeve double clicked.

  He hides everything about himself from you, but will take everything from you. Do you even know his name? He’s a demon posing as an angel, waiting for the one he can drink from and end his immortal thirst. Once your child is born he will do anything to possess and consume it.

  Now there are only two Akhkharu with you, but soon they will pour in. Each after a child bride to claim. They will say they’re for your safety, but what are they really after? Bodyguards do not look with hunger at their principals. Watch and see.

  We will contact you soon.

  Dr. Paion

  Maeve jotted down “email about Guardians,” “Akhkharu,” and “Dr. Paion” in her little notebook. She slipped the notebook, where she kept her daily thoughts, into the only drawer of her desk equipped with a lock. Things that involved Guardians had a way of slipping her mind or disappearing all together. Nathalia had been involved with researching them secretly and now it was up to Maeve. She locked the drawer with a little key and slipped it into a tiny pocket of her skirt.

  A knock on the window startled her, but when she saw Billy, she grinned and crossed over to open it. The double doored window opened in and featured a low window seat that bridged the gap between two floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Maeve loved it right here. She opened the doors to find Billy on his knees outside. She got onto her own knees and rested her elbows on the narrow window seat. Billy mirrored her and they sat with their faces very close.

  Billy came into the world here on the Daughters’ compound and served as their grounds keeper, among other things, for the last ten. Though twenty-eight years old, he had the look of a teenager. Thin and tall, he had the tan to match his occupation. The rest of him, no matter how tall he grew, would never catch up to his hands, feet and ears. Perpetually messy devil-may-care light brown hair framed his pleasant face, easy smile, and brown eyes that sparkled. The sun forced his hair and skin to the same shade of brown by lightening one, darkening the other. As usual, soil smudged his face and clothes. His carefree laugh and contagious positive attitude garnered everyone’s love, Maeve included.

  He spoke first. “Rumor has it you’d like a window box out here.”

  “Rumor has it right, but no flowers with big fancy blooms. I was thinking a tiny smell garden.”

  Billy let out a soft chuckle, “And just what exactly is a ‘smell’ garden?”

  “I want it to be about the scent, not sight. I want it to smell different at different times of the day. I want the breeze to catch it and bring the fragrance of outside in.”

  Billy raised one eyebrow and asked, “So you want a perfumed garden of sensual delights? Don’t we all.”

  Maeve laughed at his reference to the Arabic sex manual. Billy’s mother, Libby, who served as the librarian, always made sure he kept up with the studies of the girls his same age. Like the devoted mothers of ages past, Libby never allowed her child to fall behind just because of gender. He was not allowed to study the greater mysteries, but Maeve got the feeling that he knew more than he should. Secrets couldn’t be kept in such close quarters. Billy had lived here three times as long as Maeve.

  “You know, I’ve never been inside the Abbess’ office?”

  The Abbess before Nathalia, even more prejudiced against men than her, had never forgiven Billy’s mother for refusing to have more children after Billy. The Abbess thought providing a female heir was the duty of every Daughter, but Libby defended her right as a woman to determine her own reproductive choice.

  Maeve believed men to be inferior to women. Females didn’t spawn life all on their own. Conception was purely physical, nothing miraculous. Both men and women played their part.

  “You’re always welcome here, now that it belongs to me.”

  The smile disappeared from Billy’s face, “So, she’s really never coming back?” Maeve didn’t answer. “You know, I always loved Nathalia.”

  “I think you would have been good for her. She needed a little lightheartedness in her life. I tried to match you two up on several occasions, but Nathalia always came up as a void where my magic was concerned. It was like there was not one human out there my ability could match her with.”

  “What about me? Am I a void?” Billy inquired.

  Maeve broke her own ban and pulled a little strand of power from the recharged Capacitors and worked her small magic. It held little in common with her actual matchmaking spells, but told her general things about a person and their best mate. It only took her a fraction of a second to answer, “No, not a void. There are lots of women you could be very happy with. Quite a few right here would make wonderful partners for you.”

  Billy shook his head no. “These girls’ll always think of me as the gardener and the little boy they grew up with.”

  “Anytime you’re ready, I can work my Vinculum magic for you. It’s an open invitation.”

  Billy looked shocked for a second and then glancing at the bedroom door, behind which Aaron lay sleeping, he reached out and kissed Maeve. When she didn’t resist, he placed his hand on the back of her neck and deepened the kiss. Maeve allowed this result of a miscommunication. It did no one any harm. Maeve frequently kissed people other than her mate. Aaron wasn’t the kind of man to fly off the handle just because he saw his spouse kissing.

  Ending the kiss must be handled with great care. Billy was feeling vulnerable and had put himself out on a limb by embracing her. She allowed the kiss to end naturally and then added a little peck to signify its end in a positive manner.

  Billy glanced again at the bedroom door, “Are you sure Aaron will be okay with this? I could always go to Sara, but she’s not nearly as talented as you.”

  Maeve stood up and crossed back to her desk and picked up the little cell phone laying there. “Yes, Aaron is fine with this. I make my own decisions, especially about my magic. I wanna do this for you. You’re too important to the Daughters to hand off to a subordinate.”

  Billy stood up too, still on the outside. “Do you want to go to my room?”

  “No, we can do this right here.” Maeve gestured to her office. She dialed and then spoke a few words into the phone.

  BILLY COULD imagine Maeve’s short but voluptuous body laid out across the huge desk or bent over the back of the love seat. It could work for him if she was into it. He made the conscious decision and stepped over the threshold into the office. He kicked off his boots revealing bare feet underneath and undid his fly. Maeve interrupted his lewd thoughts by knocking on the bedroom door. “Aaron, I’m sorry to wake you, but could you come in here?”

  Billy started to object to another man being added to their plan but Maeve explained, “I’ve been working on a way to act as Vinculum without needing to have sex with my mark.”

  Billy spoke before he thought, “But I thought you couldn’t pull from Capacitors for your greater magic.”

  “I can’t, but you aren’t supposed to know anything about Capacitors, remember?”

  Just then Maeve’s Guardian came through the door opposite the window. Billy felt as if he’d never really seen this man. A visitor here periodically for Billy’s whole life, the Guardian recently took permanent residency wherever Maeve was. The similarity to Billy ended with tan skin and hair lightened by exposure to the sun. The Guardian had muscles on top of muscles, in places where Billy, who did hard daily manual labor, didn’t know muscles would grow. Billy considered himself a tall man at six feet five, but strained his neck to look up at the seven feet five giant.

  He wore jeans and a black tee shirt that could only have been purchased at a big and tall man’s store. Even from a specialty shop, they strained to fit him. Always barefoot. Billy heard that even on the longest walks in the worst weather this man would not be persuaded to wear any shoes.

  The barefooted behemoth kept his head down as Maeve approached him. Maeve took his jumbo hands in her tiny ones. He kissed her inner wrist. The Guardian moved to shield her from Billy’s view,
but not before he saw the look on her face. She flushed with a look of pure ecstasy. Without a word, the Guardian released her and stepped back, but stayed inside the room. He never took his eyes from Maeve’s midriff and the small bump growing there.

  Aaron looked drowsy when he came into the office carrying a steaming cup of coffee. Wearing pajamas, he’d just thrown on the top, not bothering to button up. He sat down at Maeve’s desk behind her computer. He nodded a greeting to the Guardian, who came over to stand close to him.

  Aaron seemed unconcerned when Maeve told Billy, “Take off your shirt”, so Billy did it with only the slightest anxiety. She took off her shirt and explained as she crossed over to him, “Since we won’t be having sex, I need the most skin on skin contact as possible.” He only took his eyes off her sizable breasts to glance at the two other men in the room. “Don’t worry about them, just wrap your arms around me and put your hands on my skin.”

  Billy did and Maeve slid one hand over his chest and wrapped it around his neck. He was substantially taller than her so her cheek just barely met his nipple. She rested her head on his chest and put her other hand over his heart. “Squeeze tighter and try to keep as much contact with as much of our skin as possible.”

  Billy lifted her slightly and set her down again with her bare feet resting on his much larger ones. She smiled up at him and said, “Good idea, the more skin the better.”

  Maeve spun her head around toward the desk. “What are you two whispering about over there?!”

  The Guardian straightened from looking over Aaron’s shoulder at the computer screen so fast that his head hit the ceiling. “It’s distracting. Give us two minutes, please.”

  Aaron lifted his hands in illustration of surrender.

  The Guardian bowed his apology and crouching a little, backed into the corner.

  Billy bent his head and rested it on her shoulder, putting her head between him and the prying male eyes. He couldn’t help but kiss her neck.