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Following the unscheduled meeting earlier that night, Agatha and Neptune returned to the library where their day had begun. They were by no means exhausted. Being tucked away among things they loved was a source of rejuvenation. The fact that they were working under a deadline was another welcomed reason to keep the candle burning.
Agatha released a sound that could’ve stirred from nothing other than exquisite pleasure and Neptune looked up from the book that almost hid the tabletop from view. He knew the sound was one of surprise and not pleasure, but oh how it made him hope for the chance to one day confirm whether or not they were similar.
“Okay over there?” He queried with more than a hint of amusement.
“Chikere said Priestesses had the power to weave charms-ones they could mask inside spells.”
Neptune nodded to the question. “That’s right.”
“What about inside poems?”
“Come again?’
Agatha resituated the book in her lap and began to read from it. “‘Though no evidence of this exists, except perhaps in the Origin Realm, it is believed that in the pursuit of forging a pathway into new magic, Priestesses may have experimented with charming poems in the way they were rumored to have charmed the spells of their male counterparts. The Epic Poem is believed to have once been used for such a purpose.’”
Neptune was already standing close by. “Where did you find these?” he asked.
“From one of the books you’d already pulled before I came to the library this morning,” Agatha tapped a nail to another book. “I took this from the Generals’ Battle Lore library the first night I got here with Ket. Its bibliography referred me to this one,” she raised the book she’d read from.
Neptune eyed the resource as if mesmerized.
“Neptune?”
“The night before we left...the Generals, we- we all spent time in the Priestesses’ mansion, in the chambers of the High Priestess, Ife. There was a ceremony-shit!” Neptune closed his eyes suddenly, his features tightening as if some excruciating pain was slamming him.
“Neptune?” Agatha set aside the book. “Are you alright?”
“I’m alright, I-things get fuzzy when I-the Poem was part of whatever happened...” he smoothed both hands across his silver gray waves.
“We’ve been at this a while. Maybe we could both use fresh brains to tackle it later,” Agatha suggested. “There’s a chance I’m not even reading this right.”
“You’re reading it right,” Neptune was quiet for several moments, before taking Agatha’s hand. “Bring the book. I have an idea.”
***
“Have you used all the weapons here?”
It was much, much later and Oz and Keturah were much, much too exhausted to do anything beyond lying among a twisted tangle of bed covers while dozing in and out of sleep. Her question made Oz smile, but he didn’t open his eyes. He was far too content to do so. He was far too...everything.
“I’m in love with you,” his smile gained definition when he heard her gasp and felt her pushing at his side in an effort to sit up in the bed next to where he lay. He opened his eyes to observe her then and laughed quietly. Her hair, thick and wild seemed to envelop her in its darkness as she hunched next to him perched on her knees.
Disbelief held her face captive. “Do you know what that means?” she almost whispered.
Oz’s laughter gained volume. “I’m immortal, not ignorant.”
“In love Oz, it means-”
“I get it Keturah and yes, I know what it means. I’ve always known which is why I’ve stayed away from it. Love isn’t only about giving love, it’s about being loved in return. For a long time I didn’t think I was meant or made for that. I didn’t want another person saddled with the burden of me.”
“Oz,” her voice was now a definite whisper and she drew her hand down his stunning face.
“I’m in love with you too. I...it scared me at first because I was starting to wonder if you were right-that we’d been compelled.”
“And now?”
“It’s true that our...bonds connect us. Beyond that, I asked myself how could a woman not fall in love with you?” She gave a playfully theatrical sigh. “That’s in spite of all the brooding regrets and guilt-wearing.” She shook her head then, studying him with understanding eyes.
“You care deeply for your friends. You’re honorable-so honorable, you kept working and toiling to make sure that gate was secure even when everyone else said to hell with it and went home. All that, and you still think you’re not worthy of love...it breaks my heart. Thankfully, the pain was quickly remedied by my mysterious feelings for you.”
Oz shook his head. “You know we’re both crazy, don’t you?” He joined in when she laughed.
“Listen to me, Keturah. I um...I know you have your life in Georgia, but I want to see you. I’ll spend as much time there as you’ll let me.”
Keturah felt her eyes moisten and didn’t care. “I’d like that,” she said.
Oz faked a modicum of concern. “I really don’t want to step on any toes, given my history...”
She smiled over the inside joke.
“On second thought, I really don’t give a damn if I do,” he said.
Keturah’s laughter filled the room, uninhibited and generous. “I can promise there aren’t any toes to step on.”
Oz tugged her hair. “You keep saying things that are impossible for me to believe.”
“It’s true,” she sighed delightedly, but tensed after a moment. “There’s been no one since my boss.”
“Ah...” Oz’s smile was an appreciative one. “Now we get to the good part.”
“Not really,” Keturah settled back to the bed. “It was over as soon as it started. We’d both sensed that even before Ag came bursting in on us,” she enjoyed the sound of Oz’s laughter.
“They tolerate each other well enough now and Louis and I work well together, so at least our awkward start didn’t ruin that.”
“And no one since?” Oz’s disbelief was still evident.
“Potentials,” Keturah shrugged. “Who quickly bite the dust. Ag’s protection spell ...comes in very handy which is why I trust this-trust us. I’d like to see where it goes too. I’m glad you’re willing to come to Georgia. I’m not in the mood for all the long faces I’ll have to see around here when your admirers blame me for taking one of their Generals off the market.”
“Those are Borg’s and Tron’s admirers.”
Keturah made a tsking sound. “You keep saying things that are impossible for me to believe.”
“Using my words against me, huh? A General takes such a thing as a challenge.”
“I see...and what’s the penalty?”
Oz preferred to show her. They were in the throes of a kiss when their phones rang simultaneously. Individual voicemails kicked in and caused the rings to cease. They resumed again almost instantly.
“I think we’re being summoned,” Keturah moaned.
Oz answered his phone, listened, smiled when the call ended. “You’re right, Chikere wants us.”
***
“What makes you think this could work?” Tron squared off with Chikere once everyone had gathered as requested. “If Nep can’t remember that night, no one can. The man’s mind is a bottomless trap.”
“You say the sweetest things,” Neptune called across the room.
“I’m gifted that way,” Tron called back.
The group had all been summoned to Chikere’s suite within a half hour of his call.
“I believe that’s why he was having trouble. He was alone when he tried to remember. This happened when you were all in the same room.”
“There are still parts of that night that aren’t so...fuzzy,” Borg sent Keturah and Agatha weak looks. “Apologies.”
Agatha smiled. “We’re women, not nuns,” she said.
Borg nodded. “All we’ve ever really been able to remember is having a mighty good time in there.”
“Maybe that’s all you were supposed to remember until the time was right.”
Tron sent Chikere a horrified look. “You won’t do anything to foul up those memories, will you? They’re...special.”
“I’ll try.” Chikere’s tone was sly. “Besides, what’s more important, saving the world or your wet dreams?”
“Tron?” Borg called.
“Give me a minute, I’m thinking.”
“Cut it out, Tron. You’re not the only one anxious to get back to what he was doing,” Neptune shifted a brisk, smoldering look toward Agatha.
“Exactly what are we about to do, Chik?” Oz asked.
“I’m going to attempt to Shroud you all-take you back to that moment.”
“Can you do that?” Keturah blurted.
“I’m a Priest,” Chikere said with a wink.
“But that was centuries ago.”
“I’m a High Priest.”
“Show off,” Tron grumbled.
Oz rolled his eyes. “Is it possible for you to be serious for just a minute?”
“Ask for more time,” Chikere urged. “I may be a High Priest but going back centuries to get four men to remember an exact moment in time will take some doing.”
Silence gradually took hold of the room. The space was warm and elegant with its chocolate and charcoal color scheme. The Generals sat in a makeshift circle in the living area of Chikere’s suite. Keturah and Agatha occupied one of the long sofas against a far wall.
Riveted, they watched Chikere work. He set his hands to the back of Oz’s head and explained. “Because Oz’s cuff has awakened, he has the strongest connection to the Realm.”
The women nodded, watching as the room began to dim. The only illumination surrounded the circle where the men sat. There, a distinct glow hovered.
Keturah gasped. “Agatha, did you-”
“I heard it,” Agatha said.
Chikere had established the Shroud which provided a mental distortion of time and place. Beneath his voice, there was the sound of far away voices strong with melody and wisdom.
“Do you know what they’re saying?” Keturah asked her aunt.
“Not yet.”
Agatha didn’t have long to wait for clarity to arrive. The quiet rumble of male voices took shape amid Chikere’s chanting and the ancient melodic chord beneath it.
‘Wealth of the Motherland’
‘Awaken post-haste’
Neptune’s and Tron’s voices took shape.
‘...Benevolent reign...’
‘...Change this fate...’
Oz’s and Borg’s voices followed.
Agatha gasped sharply.
Keturah grabbed her aunt’s hands. “What is it? Agatha?”
Agatha continued to listen, eventually mouthing the words.
Concerned, Keturah gave the woman a shake. “What is it? What’s wrong?” She demanded in a fiery whisper.
“Only the portal’s resurgence may change this fate,” Agatha gasped again and looked to Keturah. “I know this and so do you.”