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    The Ring Of Stones
    The Ring Of Stones
    The Ring Of Stones
    Ebook203 pages3 hours

    The Ring Of Stones

    By Robert Taylor

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    About this ebook

    Book 2 of the Chelsea Perkins Trilogy, this volume picks up at the end of the first with Chelsea struggling to come to grips with her destiny and what she must do to fulfill it, now that Elsbeth Danwich's plans are about to come to fruition.

    ​​In the middle installment of the Chelsea Perkins Trilogy, the young witch is dealing with the consequences of her forced entrance into the magical world of her father, and the temptations of dark magic loom over her every day. In addition, she has started seeing the future past the day of her confrontation with Elsbeth Danwich - a future in which she has given in to her worst tendencies.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRobert Taylor
    Release dateDec 11, 2013
    ISBN9781310930447
    The Ring Of Stones
    Author

    Robert Taylor

    Robert Taylor was formerly Director of the Centre for Chinese Studies and Reader in Modern Chinese Studies at the University of Sheffield. He is the author of a number of studies and academic articles relating to Chinese business management and China’s foreign policy, including Greater China and Japan and the edited volume, International Business in China: Understanding the Global Economic Crisis. He also contributed a chapter on China to the volume, edited by H.Hasegawa and C.Noronha, Asian Business and Management: Theory, Practice and Perspectives.

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      Book preview

      The Ring Of Stones - Robert Taylor

      The Ring Of Stones

      Book Two of the Chelsea Perkins Trilogy

      By

      Robert A. Taylor

      ©Copyright 2013 by Robert A. Taylor, All Rights Reserved

      Smashwords Edition

      This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

      Cover image created by Cheryl Taylor using source material from Public Domain.

      For my beloved 3 CATs – Cheryl, Cathy & Christy

      CHAPTER 1

      The woman's face was serene as she lay spread across the stone altar, bound by the wrist and ankle. The bag covered her mouth, pulling her breathe out, and the knife sat in determined hands, ready to rip out the rest of the Ingredients. Elsbeth Danwich bent down to whisper a few soft words to her sacrificial lamb, stroking the woman's pregnant belly tenderly with the blade. She straightened to her full, impressive height as she heard the approach of two others into her great stone ring.

      Chelsea Perkins joined hands with Alma May Watson and each of them rattled the three-wish bag that had nearly made them too late to halt this dark ritual. Elsbeth, Chelsea said, pleading. It's over. You can't win now.

      I suppose you're right, my dear. She turned, her golden-brown locks whipping in the wind as the storm gained strength above her. But you won't either. Like a bullet, the knife shot from Elsbeth's hand and buried itself hilt-deep into Chelsea's throat. No one wins today.

      Unable even to gasp out for help, Chelsea slid to the ground and Alma May desperately attempted to call upon the power of the three-wish bag and bring her young friend back from death…

      Chelsea opened her eyes and looked around her bedroom. Ever since her father's death, the visions of her inevitable confrontation with Elsbeth Danwich had become increasingly darker and unsuccessful. This one wasn't the first that had ended in her death. She wasn't hopeful that it would be the last, either.

      The flower in the ceiling of her room bloomed and its soft light fell down on her. She got out of bed and walked over to her dresser. Now that she was in charge of the clothing, there was finally some color in her wardrobe, but today she chose the earth tones her father had made for her. Using the things he had made helped ease the guilt she felt for being his murderer.

      Well, not exactly his murderer. More the means by which his murder was accomplished. His real murderer was a dead enemy from the past, with a little help from the Mabden Ritual of human sacrifice, not to mention his own faulty interpretation of the vision than had haunted him for years.

      It was a lot to think about, first thing in the morning.

      The fact that both the murderer and her father were still in her head made it even more complicated, but this morning they were both quiet, for which she was grateful. After dressing, she slipped down into the kitchen and started up breakfast for everyone. She had a pair of houseguests; Alma May Watson, who was officially her tutor from the Council of Wisdom, and Sir William Burke, the Council's seneschal. Unofficially, they were there to provide backup for her while she took down Miss Danwich.

      With the easy grace of someone who had spent decades in that kitchen, Chelsea threw bacon, cheese, eggs and spinach into a pie crust, seasoned it lightly, and popped the quiche into the oven to bake. She stuck a kettle filled with water on a hot burner and broke out some of the good tea leaves, inhaling their delicious aroma deeply. She preferred milk with her breakfast, but both of her guests were British, so she made sure to have tea for them.

      Just as she was cutting the quiche into slices to plate, Alma and Will stumbled into the kitchen and sat down at the small breakfast table. Chelsea placed a plate and a cup under each of their noses and told them, Eat up. We need to do some gathering today.

      Alma May tucked in to her food, but Will only picked at the quiche, sipping his tea and looking morose. In the three weeks since losing both his best friend and his fiancée, his handsome face and figure had become hollow and skeletal. He had no enthusiasm for maintaining his health. The only thing that kept him going these days was revenge. If you give me the list, I can get a head start while you two eat, he said over his shoulder to Chelsea.

      Eat, she ordered, her voice low and threatening. You're no good to anyone if you faint from hunger. She sat down at the table with her own slice of quiche and a mug full of milk. In spite of the order coming from a girl of twelve, Sir William grudgingly accepted it and slowly nibbled his way through his breakfast.

      Chelsea's role as the leader of their trio had fallen on her by default, since both of her compatriots had been too emotionally shattered after the attack three weeks before to take charge. It felt odd, but her father's memories and personality guided her and helped her through the days. The fact that part of him still lived inside her gave her strength.

      After the two ladies finished their food and Will had made enough of a stab at his, Chelsea took the plates away and brought out her list. She'd worked on it for three days, using her powers as a seer to make certain that the items were attainable, and that they were necessary for the coming struggle. It was split into three parts, but if she'd had time and her own way, they would all be gathering the Ingredients together. She didn't like the idea of each of them wandering off alone, ripe to be picked off by Elsbeth Danwich or anyone aligned with her.

      But, she didn't have time, and Will was reluctant to accept her commands on his best days. He wanted to be out fighting the dragon, when the role that destiny had assigned him was as a bystander. He was immensely useful in prep work, and had brewed several potions for them that would prove invaluable on the day of the actual conflict with Danwich, but Chelsea had never seen him there in any of her visions, and she wasn't going to break the future by indulging in his bloodlust.

      She handed the first page to Alma. We're going to need these as a backup to our teleportation into Elsbeth's ring and to keep shielding our minds from her influence. I've felt her trying to break into my thoughts every now and then, and I want some more protection. She handed Will's part of the list over to him. This is to build our first line of attack, the Necklace of Banishment, as well as our defensive barrier, which we're going to need to be as strong as possible. She put her own list into her pocket.

      Will noticed and narrowed his eyes at her. What are you going to be getting?

      She looked away. I'm putting together the Ingredients to make a couple of three-wish bags.

      Alma nearly dropped her list. What? She couldn't say anything else; she just stood gaping at Chelsea.

      I know Terence is in there somewhere, Will said through clenched teeth, and I know that he must have advised you not to do that, because it is so bloody dangerous.

      It was actually one of the plans he'd come up with, Chelsea said, looking up at the two adults. Of course, he'd only wanted to assemble one, and I think it'll be more effective if both Alma May and I have a bag. She sighed. Look, it's not that dangerous. I already have two of the Ingredients, the troll egg and the unicorn mane, and I'm pretty sure I have enough mane to split between the bags. So, that's like three Ingredients, right there. I just need another eleven. The dour adults triggered a deep resentment inside Chelsea, and she was tired of handling them with understanding and patience. Look, I've got five people up here, she said, tapping the side of her head, so, you shouldn't be worried about me. You two are on your own – you're the ones I'm worried about.

      At least one of those five shouldn't be listened to at all, Chelsea, Alma May tutted. Eric Vincent is a cold-blooded killer.

      I know, I know, but he's way in the background, now. Chelsea took her arm and tried to shoo her and Will to the front door of the tree. Nothing to worry about. Besides, he wants to stop Danwich as much as we do.

      He could very well have changed his mind since… Alma May waved over Chelsea's head. His plan backfired on him.

      He doesn't have the influence that Dad and Rochelle have. Not to mention you. So, stop worrying, OK? And get me those Ingredients.

      She looked like she wanted to argue more, but Alma May turned to Will and said, Let's get going. She knows what she's doing.

      Will wasn't ready to let it go, though. I'm going to bring this up one more time. We take the fight to Elsbeth now, before she's prepared. We could catch her completely by surprise.

      She's been prepared for that for weeks, Will, Chelsea said. She continued pushing the two of them out of the kitchen, through the library and into the living room. She's been expecting an attack from the Council since the last time they beat her. We will not be able to catch her without the teleportation spell we're prepping, and we won't be able to hold our own against her without the Necklace of Banishment and the three-wish bags. Now, could you please get on your way? She opened the front door for them and pointed a finger outside.

      Will looked from her to the bright day and ground his teeth together. Fine. He hurried off to the nineteen-fifty-seven Bel Air parked in the grass under the shade of the enormous tree they lived in.

      Alma May hurried off to join him, but turned back to Chelsea. Be careful, dear.

      Don't worry about me, Alma May. I've got you in here, too, she said, tapping her head again. Nothing's stopping me from getting to that ring, and you're coming with me.

      Alma May nodded, then joined Will in the large front seat of the Bel Air. Will roared off as she was buckling up, disappearing down the tunnel that led from the dimension they were currently in back to the one they all called home.

      Chelsea closed the door and leaned against it. She hated lying to Alma May, but she needed the two of them out of her hair. She went back into the kitchen and climbed into the dumb waiter that dropped down into the roots of the tree. Sylvia, the nymph that acted as the Tree of Knowledge's avatar, was waiting for her there.

      I have the bowl, the sap and the seed all ready. Do you have the other four Ingredients?

      Chelsea pulled a small bag from her pocket. All set. Are you ready?

      As much as can be expected. This is a dangerous ritual.

      I know, but everything I'm doing these days is dangerous. It's all right, I make it through this. I've seen it.

      The nymph looked skeptical. As your father might warn you, the future is a fluid thing, and doesn't always flow in the direction you've been watching.

      That's why I'm grabbing the future and guiding it myself, Chelsea said, walking off through a root tunnel into the chamber underneath the tree that was reserved for rituals. She had performed warding rituals down here for the last three nights, after Will and Alma May had gone to sleep, to protect herself from what she was about to summon. Owing to the connection between the two of them, Chelsea thought that Alma May suspected what she was doing, but so far she hadn't made an effort to stop it.

      The bowl that Sylvia had prepared grew from a thick branch of wood sticking out of the ground. The thin sap of the tree floated a nickel-sized seed in its center. Chelsea took her bag and loosened the opening. From it, she drew a lock of hair, a small chunk of meat and a tooth. She then cupped the top of the bag around her mouth and blew into it, sealing and tying the bag quickly. She dropped the hair and meat into the sap. Fur, flesh, she intoned, stirring the sap with the tooth. Blood, bone. She dropped the bag into the sap. Breathe. She touched the seed, which sprouted several small buds and stuck into the side of the bowl. Seed and egg. The buds from the seed shot into the other items in the sap, locking them into place. Come to me, Old One.

      The sap turned black and a shadow fell across Chelsea. A child, a deep voice said, shaking the chamber with the sound. Another sound shook the chamber afterwards, the sound of a large creature struggling. Well done, the voice said. I wouldn't have expected such expert binding from someone as young as you. But then, it's not just you, is it?

      She shook her head slightly. Who do I have the honor of addressing?

      Respect as well as competence. I'm impressed. The Old One considered her for a moment and then replied, I am known as Mastema, the punisher of evil, angel of disaster, the flatterer of God. How are you named?

      I'm Chelsea Perkins, but as you can tell, it's not just me. Due to a Mabden Ritual, a possession and an ancestral ritual, I've got four mature witches sitting in my head with me, and we're all watching you.

      No worries, Miss Perkins, I won't attempt to escape. Mastema sounded bemused. You intrigue me. What service do you require of me?

      I don’t suppose you can create a three-wish bag?

      Mastema laughed, a rumble that shook Chelsea's knees. If I could produce such a thing, I would not be available to be called by beings such as yourself, Miss Perkins.

      Chelsea was disappointed, but that had been a long shot. Still, she would have kicked herself for not asking. All right, then I need information about a former associate of yours. Asmodeus.

      There was hesitation before Mastema answered. Why do you seek him?

      I don't. Someone else is seeking him, and I mean to stop her.

      Does she know what forces she plays with?

      Yes, but believe me, she doesn't care.

      Mastema considered his words for a moment. Asmodeus is powerful, but what is worse is that he has sworn vengeance upon the Earth. He is bound with powerful magic because of that.

      She is very good.

      I don't doubt you, but there is a very specific set of Ingredients that must be used to unleash him.

      She's got them. Trust me, she's been planning this for years.

      Mastema solidified from the smoke and shadow for a moment, giving Chelsea a glimpse of his form. He was humanoid, tall and muscular, and if Will had given her weak knees when she first met him, this creature made her positively woozy. She concentrated on unsexy things and called on the more mature people in her mind to help her keep control of her hormones. Once she had calmed down, he returned to insubstantiality. If Asmodeus is freed, I doubt that the means to rebind him exist on the Earth.

      What about off the Earth?

      Possibly, but it would take time. He chuckled. And I surmise that time is an Ingredient that you lack.

      I don't think we have more than two months, at the outside.

      Then you must stop this witch who seeks to free him.

      You are just made of help, aren't you? Chelsea rubbed her eyes and asked, What have you got for me there? Elsbeth Danwich, have you heard of her?

      Yes, I know the witch of whom you speak. Mastema became solid again. "She is, as you say, very good. Do you truly believe you

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