The Clearing: Origins

Chapter 32

"Aoife doesn't know I suspect her," said Victor as he, Lovedae, and the doctor sat in the den with fragrant cups of tea. If the situation weren't so dire, he could almost imagine himself as a young boy again, in the professor's company. "My friend, Ally mentioned Aoife chants a lot, mutters angrily under her breath."

"I concur with your suspicions." Dr. Mason nodded. "That behavior is customary to every iteration of Brigit. Sometimes I wonder about her sanity."

"How do we stop her, Papa?" Victor placed his cup on a side table.

"Not 'we,' son. Me. It's my job to end Roisin's misguided venture. I know what I need. The babus had an ancient artifact stolen from their village years ago. It's a ceremonial dagger with writing etch on the blade."

An image popped into Victor's head. "Curved blade, ivory handle?" 

"You've seen it?" Dr. Mason seemed surprised.

"Yes, sir. Brigit had it in a dream."

"That's unfortunate." He sighed.

"There were dirks too. They were designed to muddle magic so the subject couldn't fight back." The history of magical weapons slid into Victor's thoughts. "The One Magi were immortal then. The elders, or the First, created the daggers because the One Magi developed self-inflated egos and were brutal toward the lesser magi and humans, even killing them for sport. A dagger would put the One Magi in stasis as it drained their magic and life force. But there weren't enough dirks, daggers, or First to police the growing problem. To achieve balance, the First sacrificed themselves to complete a spell ending the One Magi's immortality, making them equal to the lesser races."

"Losing their immortality probably drove some of them mad," said Lovedae, her wary eyes on the doctor. "How do you know this, Victor?"

"It's weird." He frowned. "But since ascending, I've got tons of information piled in my head. I hope I don't run out of room."

"Studies show there are no dormant parts of our brains," replied Lovedae. "Your only problem is that damned magic."

Dr. Mason met Lovedae's gaze. "There's a dagger in India. With Victor's help, I can retrieve it."

"Craig—"

 "Lyle, my dear. My tenure as Craig—" The doctor's face teemed with regret. "It's over."

"Cr—I mean, Lyle..." She reached out to him. "Please, stay."

Dr. Mason took Lovedae's hand. "My love, if I could stay with you, I would."

Victor pitied his mother. In retrospect, her heart would be broken twice—by the same man through no fault of her own. The Duo had been more forgiving, peppering their father with questions, holding onto him the entire walk to the house. They thought him back for good.

Their pain would be his fault for revealing the deception.

The Duo came thundering down the stairs as if summoned, shouting for him at the tops of their lungs. Victor groaned as he stacked the tea tray then yelped as three children ran into the room. Little Vic darted in behind them.

Lovedae and Dr. Mason gasped, both speechless as they recognized the small boy that seemed to drop in from the past. Victor slid the tray onto a table and turned to the child in disbelief. "What in blazes?"

Little Vic stopped before him. "You've got to save Kristy!"

His heart leaped into his throat. "Kristy?" She'd broken the link between them, but that didn't matter now. When he reached out to her, his magic found nothing.