Previous Chapter
The newest strangers in town had very different priorities from the last group. They never came to the graveyard. That didn't mean they escaped the patient watch of Jonathan Riker's statue. On the contrary. After first arriving they went down to the beach where the young man bathed one leg in the ocean. His sister kept him company, occasionally serenading him with snatches of light, wistful song.
Other than that small excursion they didn't leave the inn for the first day. They were more active the second. The two of them walked up and down the docks, chatting with the captains of small fishing boats and tramp freighters. Money changed hands as if they planned a trip by sea in the near future. And they ended the evening on the beach once more, bathing the man's leg and pensively watching the setting sun as it sank beneath the horizon, skewered by the Cove's lighthouse like a giant, burning orange.
The town got very quiet at sundown. Avery found it strange, as habits formed years ago in Palmyra told him the cool evening was the perfect time for candle making. The rhythms of seaside life were very different from those of a druid's forest stronghold. The morning tide was vital to the people of Riker's Cove and it came well before sunrise. By sunset most people were long asleep.
As the town's primary peacekeeper Avery did his best to remain awake until the night was well underway, so as to be on hand in case brigands tried to take advantage of the cover of night. He remained at the jail, his lone thistledown candle burning. With his senses expanded he looked out across the town, listening for the sound of thoughts. There were limits to his range, of course. With only his candle burning he could pick up on thoughts within twenty feet or so of where he sat. But if anyone lit the candles he'd shared with them he would pick up on their mind right away.
Well, with some exceptions. Roy Harper had proven immune to the candle's power, somehow. Perhaps the hint was in the name of his talent. He hadn't learned much about druids with the firemind but it stood to reason that such a person would have firey thoughts and that may explain the way the candle reacted to Harper's mind by flaring up instead of carrying his thoughts. Avery hadn't worked out a possible solution to the problem yet.
Fortunately Harper's Sanna friend hadn't been so impenetrable in his thoughts. Proud Elk had heard something from Harper that convinced him that following Harper could keep their promise to old man Riker one way or another. Avery was expecting the two of them and their friend from the train to turn up again any day now. Probably not by train. Most likely by horse, possibly by boat. Yet so far there was no sign of any of them.
Not for the first time he wished he could find a willing deputy. Sadly there hadn't been any takers since von Nighburg reminded the town that the law was potentially a very dangerous profession. No one wanted to take the risk of wearing a tin star just to keep the peace.
Such grim thoughts kept him company through dusk. The evening was about to tip over into full night, the waxing moon high overhead just a sliver from fulfillment, when one of his other candles flared to life on the other side of town. Avery scrambled to his feet, snatching up his sword. With his candle holder in his left hand he bolted into the streets. The jail was high on the hill leading out of the Cove and the Strathmore home was almost on the waterfront. Even at a fast walk it took him almost ten minutes to get there.
He covered the last few hundred feet with a growing sense of unease. The closer he got to the house the more the smoke from his candle seemed to thrum with some other magical force. There was a large spell at work and Avery suspected von Nighburg was the source. The emotions of the family coming through the candle's magic were mixed and the ethics of searching their thoughts directly outside of an active threat were clear. It was a dark thing to do and he wasn't willing to take that step yet.
Avery did his best to work out how many people were in the Strathmore house before he knocked. He didn't know the family well. The father was a fisherman and his steady, watchful presence was immediately obvious. The mother was equally apparent. Her concern and drive to nurture those in the house carried clearly through the candle, bright as flame. The Strathmores had three children, though one was currently in the clutches of the black magician that lurked in the lighthouse. Unfortunately, while there was a jumble of youthful excitement in the house, it was too chaotic for Avery to determine how many people were feeling those emotions at the moment.
Most surprising was the addition of not one but two other sets of emotions. One had an air of watchful satisfaction. The other was the source of the mysterious thrumming Avery had felt for the last few minutes. Judging that cautious optimism was the correct approach, the sheriff loosened his sword in its sheath but didn't draw it. Instead, he knocked on the front door of the house.
Aaron Strathmore answered a few moments later, clearly expecting him as the Strathmore patriach quickly swung the door open and motioned him in. Avery glanced around the main room. Stairs to a loft, small kitchen area underneath, the stove in the opposite corner, doorway to the master bedroom of to the right. A large family table dominated the room and Rachel Strathmore sat there, her oldest child wrapped in her arms. The other two clustered around her, excitedly talking over each other. Standing by the back wall were two strangers with similar faces, a brother and sister at a guess.
Aaron closed the door quickly behind the sheriff. Before going any further into the room he took Strathmore aside and whispered, "Who are those two?"
"Out of towners," Aaron replied. "The brought Stu back about twenty minutes ago, easy as you please. You wouldn't think he'd been missing for weeks."
Avery's own experience suggested it hadn't been quite as simple as that. "Did they say where they're from?"
"Avalon." Strathmore shrugged helplessly when Avery gave him an incredulous look. "How should I know for sure? They don't sound like any Columbian I ever met but I'm hardly the expert now am I?
"Okay, I'll talk to them in a minute. Is Stu all right? Is he acting strange that you've noticed?"
"No," Aaron said, folding his arms. "I'm worried that being a captive so long might have hurt his mind but he seems normal and I didn't want to worry the missus, see?"
"I understand. I really need to ask him some questions but I can wait 'til the morning if you'd like some more time to let him rest now that he's back. Just keep in mind that we don't know what might have happened to him in von Nighburg's care. Does he remember anything?"
"Not that he's said." Strathmore shook his head in a resigned fashion. "Ask you questions now, sheriff. There's still two missing children and if Stu knows how to help them we'd better find out as soon as possible."
"Appreciate your cooperation." Aver stepped over to the table with Aaron, who offered him an empty chair. The sheriff sat while the boy's mother turned the child to face him. Avery removed his hat and laid it on the table. "Hello, Stu. How are you feeling?"
The child looked up at him with guileless brown eyes. "Hello, Sheriff Warwick. I'm feelin' pretty fit, I guess, except Momma says I've been gone for six weeks and I don't remember any of it."
"Sounds like you're doing alright, son." Warwick smiled in spite of the serious situation. The energy and excitement in the boy's voice felt infectious and had none of the sickly magical overtones of enchanted feelings. But Avery's good mood quickly passed. "Stu, did you know that there are children besides you missing from town?"
Stu shook his head and gave his mother a questioning look. She nodded. "It's true, Stewart. If you can think of anything that will let the sheriff help them it could be very important."
Stu screwed up his face in a caricature of concentration. Then he slumped in dejection. "Sorry, sheriff, I really can't remember anything."
With a nudge Avery put his candle directly between them. "If I have you permission, Aaron, I might be able to help him remember."
The Strathmore patriarch glanced at the candle then back at the sheriff. "By magic?"
"Thoughts and memories are my specialty. The candle generally facilitats communication but with a little time and work I can delve into parts of his mind he normally doesn't recognize." Avery got up and crossed to the window then took the candle there back to the table with him. "We might be able to dredge up something that way."
"Is it dangerous?"
"Not dangerous, Mrs. Strathmore, but it could certainly be called invasive. Like the barber checking your teeth for cavities." Avery sat down with the second candle just in front of him. "Shall I?"
"There's other children out there missing," Aaron said. "We gotta help as we can."
"If it's not dangerous I think a little discomfort couldn't hurt," his wife added.
Avery stared at Stu across the candle flames. "What about it, Stu?"
The boy gave his parents a confused look. "But-"
"I heard them, son, and if they'd said no then that would've been the end of it. But you must agree as well." Avery cut the beginning of his mother's objection off with a look. "Listen well, Stewart Strathmore, for today you cannot be a boy. Today you must be a man. Only a man can take responsibility in a matter such as this."
His mother overcame Avery's glare and her objection burst out. "That's not fair!"
"It was unfair when he was taken from you for six weeks, it was unfair when his memories were taken from him and it was unfair when the burden of being the only lifeline for others was placed on him." Avery folded his arms across his chest and glared at the boy's parents. "I won't add to the unfairness by taking his decision from him."
"I'm not scared!" Stu exclaimed.
"Good." Avery gestured at the candles. "Then look at the flame and see the magic there. Have the courage to ask yourself whether you are prepared to grapple with it. Don't be afraid that you'll be a coward if you say no."
Stu stared at the candle for a long moment his expression wavering from awed to nervous to solemn. "What will happen when you do the magic?"
"We'll look into each other's thoughts and memories at least as far as we're able. My mind is very well trained so you probably won't see much beyond me working the magic. However I'll be able to see almost everything you're thinking." Avery gestured around the room. "Anything you're thinking about your family, your favorite memories, any grudges between you and your brother and sister. Of course I'll be looking for you memories from the last six weeks. However there will be many things besides that which I learn in the process because that's how the magic works."
Stu looked at him for a long moment then asked, "You won't tell anyone? Promise?"
Avery considered how to best assure him of that then raised his right hand. "I am Avery Warwick, Knight of the Third Circle, and I serve at the pleasure of Arthur, First and Forever King of Avalon. In rain and sunshine I walk among the stone circle and steward its legacy for the coming generations and I swear on the Stones of Morainhenge all I learn from you will remain secret, save what is needed to defend the innocent."
Avery felt the magic of the oath catch at him. It had been almost a decade since he'd sworn by the Circle and it felt different to him now. Perhaps the destruction of Morainhenge had changed the nature of his oaths. Perhaps the lack of another Knight to witness and solemnize the oath weakened it. Perhaps he was no longer worthy of his oaths. Regardless, he hoped it would be enough to convince the boy.
"I am Bradon Fairchild." Avery nearly jumped out of his seat – he'd forgotten the two strangers in the room. The man had stepped away from the wall and also raised his right hand. "Knight of the Second Circle, servant of the Phoenixborn, sworn to defend his Circle and his Realm. I swear by the dolmen of Stonehenge, if this man forswears his pledge and breaks that circle then I shall teach him the error of his ways."
The magic roared to full strength. Contrary to his musings of a moment ago, Avery felt the binding nature of the oath fall on him stronger than he'd ever felt it before. The magic of the oath settled into place, a gleaming ring formed around his right wrist and Brandon's. Then the magic settled in place and the ring faded from view.
"There you have it," the stranger said. "The strongest promise we can offer."
Stu watched the proceedings in open mouthed wonder. Once the oath was done he snapped to attention. "Okay. Then I wanna do the magic."
Avery had to shake off his own moment of nostalgia after experiencing that familiar ritual for the first time in ages. He nudged the candles into position and said, "Then look here. Let yourself relax and think about a recent memory. What was it like when you came home tonight? Think about that."
The sheriff let his eyes go unfocused and sharpened his attention to the candle. He felt the boy's memories radiating towards him on the waves of heat from the flame. Confusion and surprise at his parents teary delight when he walked in the door. Then, earlier, meeting a pretty lady singing on the street. Earlier still, the Riker girl taking him to meet a strange man.
Tall, dressed in a tunic that looked like it came from two hundred years prior and wearing a richly embroidered red cloak. He had a salt and pepper beard and flinty cold eyes. In his right hand was a staff with a gold banded crystal at the top. The staff was clad in a strange, silvery metal. Based on the description on the wanted poster, Avery guessed this was Heinrich von Nighburg.
Avery felt a pang of confusion. He moved forward in Stu's memories and returned to the moment the boy met the songstress. Then Avery worked backwards with greater care. Yet no matter how careful he was he found the same fragments of memory and nothing else. It was like the whole time he'd been missing Stu Strathmore had been asleep and formed no memories at all.
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