LOST

At best estimate, Wiz, Stew and Marie figured they were about thirty minutes behind Zachary as they arrived in Bergen. Luckily for them, they found little resistance getting off the plane, out of the airport and onto the train. Wiz hadn’t visited what used to be Thórsholr in a number of years, but the last time he did, it was a park named for a former mayor, Vidar Mørkfugl.

“Where are we supposed to meet… what were their names again?”

“Brandr and Tófa. We’re meeting them at a tavern named Øl Hus. It’s right down the street from where Zachary is taking Alex.”

The group of three, with Goose following in shadow, got off the train and immediately noticed the climate difference. It had been a warm December day of fifty degrees when they left Charlotte. Thirty-three was a good bit cooler. Goose didn’t mind much but the rest of them quickly zipped up their jackets and flagged down a taxi. “Do you speak English?” Wiz asked the driver.

“Oh, yes. My English very good. I learn as driver for Russian mob in America.”

“Russian mob. Great,” Wiz replied. “We need to get to Øl Hus, on the northern end. As quickly as possible, please.”

“Øl Hus. I know it. I drove by on way to Mørkfuglsparken less than an hour ago,” the driver said as they got in the back seat.

“At least we know we’re on the right track,” Wiz said, turning to Stew.

“You are friend with dead girl?”

“Dead girl? Oh, crap,” Stew said, freaking out.

“I’m sorry. Not dead. Not dead. No talk. No move. But then, she talk. I did not understand.”

“Yeah, I don’t, either.” Stew turned to Wiz, “Do you?”

“He probably gave her a sedative of some kind, for the trip.”

“Less than an hour. You’re sure he’s just using her as bait, right?”

Wiz hesitated, but after a nervous look from Stew, “Yes. I’m sure. She’ll be fine.”

“One thousand Kroners get you quiet ride,” the driver said, smiling.

“Is that what he gave you?” Stew chuckled. “You can forget it.”

“Okay, smart pants. Two thousand get you no police. Yah?” The driver winked at Stew in the rearview mirror.

“You son of a—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Wiz comforted Stew. “I’ll take care of it.” He turned to the driver, “How fast can you get us there?”

“Fifteen minutes.”

“Would five thousand Kroners make it ten?”

“I have fastest cab in city. Your American racecars go round in circles. I go ziggy-zaggy. Ten minutes? No problem.”

The driver gunned the engine, speeding through the streets of Bergen like a LeMans driver on a Sunday afternoon. When they got to the tavern, Wiz got out after Stew, Marie and Goose and handed the driver a stack of bills, making him extremely happy.

As the cab left them in a cloud of exhaust, Stew asked, “Where’d you get all that money?”

“We can’t conjure money, but we can conjure fake money… as long as all the material is natural. He’ll get busted before he realizes it and it’ll serve him right for trying to extort money from us.”

“Genius. I’m impressed,” Marie beamed.

“Thanks. Let’s go inside and get—”

“We’re right here,” a man said from behind them. Wiz turned around and before he could say a word, Brandr knelt on one knee, followed by Tófa, her beside him. “We’re so sorry, Modeos. We should have trusted your intuition. Can you forgive us?”

“Of course. Get up and give me a hug already. We can discuss all that later.” Brandr stood up slowly and embraced Wiz, then Tófa did the same.

“It’s good to see you, Xamn,” Brandr said, humbled.

Regan fluttered between them and cleared her throat, “Don’t we have someone to rescue? The family reunion can wait.”

“Yes,” Wiz said, already walking toward the park and urging the others to follow him. “Time is short.” As they hurried toward the park, Brandr, his hair, long and brown and his face not as long as it was a few moments before, asked what the plan was.

“Do you smell that?” Wiz said, stopping to raise his nose and get a better idea of what exactly he was smelling.

“Yeah,” Tófa said, lifting her nose. “It’s smoke.” She continued to sniff the air. “Wood smoke.”

“Hurry,” Wiz said as he turned toward the fence. “Through here. Shadows. Now.”

Stew looked confused as Brandr, Tófa, Wiz and Goose became silhouettes of themselves. “And… what about Marie and me?”

“Just stay close to us and as low to the ground as possible,” Wiz replied. “Let’s go.”

Wiz led the group into the woods, Regan flying behind at a safe distance. There was not much she could do to help, but she didn’t want to miss the action. The smell of smoke got stronger the longer they moved through the forest. Within a few minutes, they could see the clearing. It looked much like it did so many years before, except there was a paved path leading to it from the opposite end. As they approached the edge of the grove, they saw the stone obelisk that was the site of their execution, still smoking, and they saw a man dressed in black standing before it.

“Zachary,” Wiz whispered. “But where’s Alex? I don’t see her.”

“You came to stop this,” Zachary said without turning around. “Wait. No. You were thinking this was a trap. Weren’t you, Modeos? No. No trap did I set here. Killing you would have been easy. I decided, instead, to go straight to the… heart… of the matter.” He continued, still looking at the stake, “Destroying your hearts will break the Circle. You’ll blame each other for not being in the right place at the right time. You’ll hold each other accountable for your failings. The Circle will fall apart and I will be victorious.”

“You think so, huh?” Wiz said with a coolness in his voice as his body became solid, followed by Brandr, Tófa and Goose.

“Oh, no. I know,” he said, laughing and nodding his head ever so slightly, still not facing them. “I know so.”

“You had best not ever venture into a faerie camp,” Regan fumed from atop Wiz’s shoulder. “You… meanie!” She was so flustered, she could not think of anything better than that. Her hair bright red and orange, she looked like a lit match with wings.

“Little mosquito, I saw you flying behind the van yesterday morning. You’re lucky my assistant was driving or I would have slammed on the brakes and you would have been a rainbow colored splat on my rear window.”

Stew could hold himself back no longer. He ran toward Zachary with all the speed his legs could muster and lunged. Zachary made a slick side step, avoiding Stew, letting him hit the base of the obelisk with his shoulder. Stew winced in pain as he rolled over, paying no attention to the cinders that were burning holes through his shirt and pants.

“Not immortal yet. Are we?” Zachary reached down, grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pulled him to his feet.

Stew looked at Zachary, breathing heavily, spittle and tears flying from his lips with every breath. The flames that had burned Alex’s flesh were extinguished, but fire raged in Stew’s eyes. He took Zachary by the throat, flipped him around and slammed him against the stone pole. “Give me the dagger,” Stew demanded, holding out his hand toward Wiz. Wiz opened his bag, pulled out the wooden box, walked over to Stew and handed it to him, pulling out the kris as he did so.

“Brandr, hold his arms,” Wiz ordered.

“Make sure you know how to use that thing before you wield it… boy,” Zachary said with mocking arrogance. “Do you know the incantation that must be uttered?”

Stew hesitated, not knowing anything about an incantation. He looked at Wiz, hoping—

“Oof!” Stew exclaimed as he felt a boot hit is ribs, throwing him to the ground. Out of his hands, the dagger flew. Zachary caught it and held it triumphantly in the air. The next moment creeped by for everyone involved, as if they were all in a dream. Stew lay helpless at Zachary’s feet as the Raven’s Kris came down headed for his chest. Brandr could not get around the stake in time, but Marie, Wiz, Tófa and Goose flung themselves at Stew. The only one who was quick enough to get between Stew and death was Marie. The dagger pierced the flesh of her shoulder but was kept from going too deep as it was knocked away during the scuffle. Brandr took Zachary’s arm and dragged him off the pile of people.

Zachary pulled his arm away, stood up and brushed himself off as the others rolled off each other and recovered their bearings. “It appears we’re at a stalemate.”

“Marie,” Wiz asked as she stood up slowly, wincing and holding her shoulder, “are you okay?”

“I’ve been better. Nothing a trip to an ER and some stitches can’t fix.”

Stew rushed toward Zachary, his eyes red and flooding with both love and hatred. Brandr stopped him before he could get to Zachary. “You killed her!” Stew screamed, spittle flying from his lips.

“It’s okay. Calm down,” Brandr told Stew, having to use all the strength in his arms to hold him back.

“It’s not okay.” Stew wiped his mouth with his sleeve and turned away, blind to the tears that began to seep out of the corners of Zachary’s eyes.

“I loved her, too!” Zachary yelled. “Perhaps too much. But it does not matter now. Does it? I accomplished what I came here for,” he said as he stepped away from the group. “I think I’ll be leaving.”

“You bastard,” Wiz growled.

“Flattery gets you nowhere, Modeos. Goodbye.”

A half second later and Zachary’s body lifted off the ground and fractured into hundreds of shards of obsidian glass, which then sprouted wings, becoming hundreds of ravens. As the group watched them fly off, disappearing into the night sky, they heard groaning from behind them. They turned around and saw someone lying on the ground at the edge of the clearing.

Wiz took a quick headcount. “We’re all accounted for. Who is that?”

“I’ll go check it out,” Brandr said, walking over to the body. Standing above him, he nudged his leg, producing another groan. “He’s hurt… but alive.” He crouched down and tried to help the stranger sit up, hoping he didn’t have any serious injuries, internal or external. “I don’t see any blood.” The man’s head turned and his hat fell off, revealing two small horns protruding from his forehead. “Thor’s hammer. He’s a satyr,” he said quietly, as he let the creature try to sit up on his own.

“A what?” Wiz asked, walking over to investigate for himself.

“A satyr,” Brandr said again.

Wiz jumped to the satyr’s other side and supported his shoulders. “Can you speak?”

“Yes. I can speak.”

“What happened?”

“He burned her. I couldn’t stop him. It was horrible.”

They were speaking too softly for Stew and Tófa to hear, so they, along with Goose, Regan flying behind, walked over to see what was going on, figuring it was safe.

“Yes. We know,” Wiz said, hanging his head.

“Did you kill him?” the satyr asked, rubbing the side of his head.

“No. We… tried but… he got away. Do you have a name, satyr?”

“Samal.”

“Well, Samal,” Wiz sighed, “I wish it were under more pleasant circumstances that we met you, but…”

“I am deeply indebted to you. I will spend the rest of my life making up for my actions.”

“Bah. Help us bring Zachary to justice and you can consider your debt forgiven. Deal?”

“I know that even if we find him, he will never recite the words that will allow me to again be hidden to humans. Still, if I can right the wrong that I have done to you, I will do it. You have my word,” Samal said, offering his hand.

“I’ve never had reason not to take the word of a creature of the forest as bond.” Wiz took the satyrs hand in a firm grip and held it. “I’m not going to start now, my friend.”

Stew turned around, stunned and silent as the events of the previous few minutes settled upon his thoughts, and looked at the smoldering ashes at the base of the petrified stake. His body shook as a thousand thoughts flooded his brain at once and it was all he could do to keep from collapsing to the ground. Tófa reacted quickly, grabbing his shoulders.

“I’ve forgotten how the smell of burning flesh lingers in the air.” She noticed the sickened face on Stew. “Forgive me, Stew. Centuries of immortality has taken away some of my tact. Are you okay?” she asked.

“I remember,” he replied, his face pale and dripping with sweat.

“Remember what?”

“Everything. Alex—er—Astrid. She looked almost exactly the same back then as she does now. I remember gathering up ritual supplies and coming here to the clearing. The flames touching my cheek.” Wiz stood up and walked towards him. “I remember it all. And you, brother,” Stew said to Wiz, tears streaming down their cheeks. “If it had been you… I would have walked the earth for twelve centuries for you, too.”

They embraced each other like only two brothers can. Brandr, Tófa, Regan and Goose watched in awe of the determination and undying, unconditional love that the two of them shared. Even the satyr could feel the pure emotion that was stirred there that moment.

“The scent of burning flesh is strong,” Wiz said with a stoic resonance. “Let it remain in our noses as a reminder until the time that this day is redeemed.”

“So it shall,” Brandr replied.