The Gift of Magic

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Morgan stood behind her grandmother's chair rooted to the spot, when she'd come into the room and seen the man standing in the circle of people an instant sense of recognition had washed over her, unlike anything she'd ever felt before. But as she studied him she was sure that she'd never met him before, she would have remembered meeting the ruggedly handsome man, with his long black hair and piercing blue eyes she'd have never forgotten him. Instead of blocking the feeling she explored it and found that it was different from the way she'd felt when she'd met her grandmother and Peter, this feeling was deeper.

It pulled at her from somewhere besides her memory, from a place inside her that she hadn't know existed until now. When his eyes met hers and held, she had the insane urge to step down off the platform and walk right into his arms, as if it would have been perfectly normal for her to do so. She was only vaguely aware of her grandmother welcoming him to the island. His eyes had captured hers and the world around her had suddenly become only background noise as unbidden images of them together, kissing and laughing formed in her mind, making her suck in a deep breath and break eye contact.

She stared at the floor wondering how she was going to cope with the newest confusion in her life. In only a few days, her quiet life had disappeared, replaced with one full of constant surprises and new feelings, it was becoming increasing difficult to cope with it all and now she found herself unaccountably attracted to a stranger. She’d never seen herself as being a romantic, nor had she believed in love at first sight, but suddenly she was faced with the possibility that both might be a reality.

There was nothing else to explain the way she was feeling, like a piece of her that had been missing had suddenly appeared, as romantic an idea as there ever was and so unlike her that she pushed the feeling away. Her life had never been full of romance, most men wanted little to do with her thanks to her above average IQ and that had never bothered her. She'd always assumed that someday she'd meet the man who was perfect to her, but she'd never imagined that it would happen this way.

When she looked up again, the man was following her cousin out of the room and her grandmother was staring up at her. “Who was that?” She asked, her voice a whisper.

“That young man claims to be Devon Bradbury, Malcolm's son. I've heard rumors about him, but I never expected to see him on the island.” Her grandmother said, still studying her.

“If he's Malcolm's son, why did you let him stay?” Morgan asked, looking at the door he'd just disappeared through.

“I wish I could explain that to you, but there's still so much you don't understand, things even I don't understand. I know how difficult this all must be for you, but I promise it will all make sense soon.” She said, taking Morgan's hand and squeezing it.

Morgan felt the need for some fresh air, some time to calm and organize her thoughts, so she kissed her grandmother on the cheek and said, “I think I need some air. I'll see you at dinner.”

“Okay, sweetheart. If you turn left when you come out the door and take that path it will lead you to the beach.”

Malcolm lit the blue candle and stepped back, no matter how many times he performed the summoning ritual he was always very careful, with a demon like Malphas you could never be too careful. One wrong move and he'd pull you out of this world and into his, a fate no witch would ever want, which was why most wouldn't even consider summoning a demon as strong as him, but Malcolm needed him and had no choice. His lesser demons had failed him once again and he was desperate to know what was happening on Corey Island.

Sprinkling the marigold petals over the circle of ground lead that he'd spread on the forest floor, he began to chant the summoning spell until a shimmering light began to appear in the center of the circle. It would cost him he knew to find the answers he was seeking, but the price would be worth it if he could discover how Thomas Corey had been able to defeat the demon he’d sent to kill him.

“So, you've summoned me again mortal.” Malphas said, when his form became solid. “I hope you're prepared to pay the price for my answers.”

“I have summoned you demon and you are my slave, if I chose to give you a token of appreciation that is my choice.” Malcolm said, his voice steady but his knees shaking.

“Very well, what is it you wish from me?” Malphas said, sounding bored.

“I want to know where Thomas Corey is and how he defeated the demon I sent to kill him.” Malcolm said.

The demon began to laugh, “Thomas Corey is six feet under the ground, your demon can't touch him now.” He said, clearly enjoying their conversation.

“That can't be possible, I saw his aura myself.” Malcolm said, feeling the first burst of panic.

“You've let your feelings cloud your vision witch. Thomas Corey has been dead for months.” Malphas said, a wicked grin on his face.

The words hit him like a knife to the belly, “Dead?”

“As dead as you can get.” Malphas said, feeding off of Malcolm's anger and fear.

Malcolm finally noticed the demon had begun to grow stronger, his bright blue aura getting brighter. “Enough!” He yelled, getting control of himself. “Tell me what you know and do it now.”

“Very well, but I would have thought that you could have figured it out on your own.” Malphas said, stretching out his giant wings. “Your demon was defeated not by Thomas Corey, but by his daughter Morgan.”

Malcolm stepped back in shock, “Morgan?”

“I'd think you'd remember her, you sent me after her once a long time ago if I recall.” Malphas said, a grin splitting his face, showing several rows of sharp teeth.

Malcolm tried to hide his confusion, he'd completely forgotten about the little girl, had been so focused on Thomas and Evelyn Corey that she’d slipped his mind. Thomas's death must have loosened the spell he'd cast over his family to hide them, leaving his daughter exposed, and Evelyn there for the taking. Hope burst in his chest, if Thomas was gone, it would be simple to claim the Corey coven and Evelyn for himself, especially if all that stood in his way was a girl.

“Find her.” He ordered, “I want to know where she is and what she's doing.”

“As you wish, master.” Malphas said, waiting.

Malcolm knew what the demon was waiting for, so he drew his ceremonial knife out of the it's sheath, and made a cut on his thumb and let the blood soak into the ground in the circle. This was the most dangerous time for Malcolm, one wrong step and the demon would pull him into the circle and then he'd be just as trapped as the demon. When three drops had fallen, he quickly pulled his arm back and watched satisfied as the demon turned into a crow and flew off.

After wandering down the beach a mile or so, Morgan felt better, some of the fogginess in her brain had cleared and the yearning she'd been feeling for Devon Bradbury had faded. She'd have to deal with the feelings at some point, but right now she just wanted some time to gather her thoughts, put all the little pieces of information her grandmother had slowly been feeding her into some kind of perspective, a summary of sorts.

Her mind had always worked best when she could organize information, put it into neat little sections with clear labels. Up a head she saw a big flat rock and headed for it, the sun was still high on the horizon leaving her several hours before dinner, when she'd have to put on a brave face and pretend that she was coping just fine. As she lowered herself down onto the rock, she wondered if this might be a good time to just let it all out, have a good cry and cleanse her system of all the fear and anxiety.

Just as she felt the tears begin to form in her eyes, she heard a mewing coming from behind her, turning she saw a big fluffy white cat with black whiskers coming toward her from the trees. As the cat got closer she began to feel better, her tears drying as a sense of well being filled her from her toes to the top of her head, making goosebumps break out on her skin. And although she realized that it was a feeling of recognition, it was different than what she'd felt before, but one thing she knew with certainty was that this little white kitten belonged to her as much as she belonged to it.

When it jumped up next to her and began to purr, she reached out her hand and began to stroke it, a memory of doing the same thing surfacing in her mind, along with the surety that as long as the cat was by her side nothing could harm her. She'd never experienced such total and complete trust in anyone or anything before and it amazed her with it's depth, but she knew deep down that there was no danger in feeling that way, that in fact it was exactly how she was supposed to feel. She stroked the cat a few more times, then it walked away from her and sat down on the rock a few feet away.

The breeze suddenly seemed to warm and the cat began to disappear, a man taking its place. “Hi, Morgan.” The man said, smiling at her.

“Oh, um. Hi.” She couldn't think of anything else to say.

The man was dressed like a roman soldier right down to the huge sword tucked into a sheath at his waist. His red tunic came only to his knees, his armor glimmered in the sunlight, and on his head a metal helmet covered his face. A week ago, she would have fled screaming at the sight of him, but so much had happened over the last week that she wasn't surprised to find herself sitting on a rock with a roman soldier.

As if he'd been reading her mind, he said, “You've had a long week, but you're here now and safe.”

“You saved me in the parking lot. How did you know I needed you?” She asked.

The man removed the helmet and put it down on the rock next to him, his features finally completely revealed to her, she realized that he was very handsome. “I've always been with you, even when you didn't know you were a witch or anything about your family I was there. We're tied together, Morgan, where you go I go. That night you were finally able to call me, your father's spell was gone, you needed me, I came, that's how it works.”

Morgan was silent for a long time, then she said, “It's frightening me a bit that I feel so safe with you, I don't know you or what you are.” Then she realized what she said, and winced.

“It's okay, I don't blame you for being frightened, most witches grow up with their familiar, you didn't. As to what I am, there's a lot of theories, but no one knows for sure how we're created. I know that I was human once.” He said, gesturing to his clothing, “But that's all I can tell you.”

Morgan sighed, for a scholar that answer was woefully empty, “I guess I'll just have to accept that.” She said, then quickly added, “Not that I'm not glad you're here, you saved me that night from something horrible and I'll always be grateful.”

The man nodded, then said, “I'll always be there when you need me all you have to do is call me.”

Morgan c****d her head at him, “But I don't know what to call you.” She said, “Grandma said I used to call you Whiskers but that doesn't quite fit.”

The man laughed, “Not when I'm in this form. I think I was once known by the name Magnus.” He said, puffing his chest up.

“That's a strong name for a strong man, Magus it is then.” Morgan replied, feeling more grounded than she had before.