The Warlock Rock

Chapter Six

They hadn't gone far, though, when Cordelia stopped, staring down at the grass. "What things are these?"

"Let me see!" Geoffrey jumped over to her, and Gregory twisted his way in between them. Gwen looked up, interested, and stepped over.

An insect was toiling its way through the long grass, but with such intensity of purpose that Geoffrey said, "Can it be a warrior bug?"

"Not properly a bug." Fess's great head hung over them. "It is truly a beetle, children. It is strange, though."

Rod looked up, alert. "In what way?"

"I had thought they were extinct."

"What?" asked Gregory.

"This particular variety of insect. It is a scarab, such as were represented in ancient Egyptian art."

"Here is another," Magnus called, ten feet away. "It doth move… why, toward Papa!"

"Toward me?" Rod looked down—and saw another scarab struggling through the grass. "Hey, I've got one, too! Only it's heading toward you!"

"Toward me?" Magnus stared.

Cordelia clapped her hands. "Belike they seek one another!"

"Nay," said Gwen. "They move toward the fairy ring."

They all looked up and saw, midway between Rod and Magnus, a flattened circle of grass—and in the center of it, a larger-than-average rock, thrumming away.

Rod frowned. "What's this? Are the Wee Folk helping out on rock distribution now?"

"Oh, nay!" Gwen said, with a mock glare at him. "Thou dost know the Wee Folk dance in circles, and leave rings behind them—but here all is flattened, not the circumference only!"

"What hath made it?" Gregory wondered.

"Perhaps the rock itself," Fess said slowly. He moved closer, being careful not to step on the scarab, and lowered his head toward the circle. "Yes, it is a small depression, a sort of natural bowl. If the rock landed with enough momentum, it might have rolled around and around the circle until…"

A scarab struggled out of the grass on the far side, teetered on the brink, and tumbled into the depression.

"Oh!" Cordelia clapped her hands. "There is a fourth!"

"Ours doth arrive now, too," Gregory noted.

Magnus came up to the bowl a step at a time, eyes on the ground. "Mine doth approach."

"Mine, too." Rod was only a step away from the rim. "They're all attracted to the rock."

"Even scarabs?" Gwen exclaimed.

Gregory was peering closely. "They are oddly colored, Mama—a slate gray. One would almost think they were, themselves, stone to the core." ' ~tT_

Rod frowned. "Then the question arises, were the beetles attracted by rock, or made by rock?"

"It is immaterial—they only seek their own kind," Fess pointed out. "But the question is academic. What is pertinent is that they are all moving toward the rock."

The four scarabs converged on the stone, reached out with their antennae, and all touched rock at the same moment—then, frozen, they glittered, glimmered, and all changed color.

"Why, they have become silver!" Cordelia stared.

"Hath the rock transformed them, then?" Geoffrey asked.

"Or have they transformed the rock!" Gregory pointed. -"Hark!"

The stone glistened, twinkled—and its music metamorphosed into lilting, soaring melody. At its bass, though, the beat went on.

"What wonder is this?" Gregory breathed.

Magnus frowned. "The stone is a thing of witch-moss— which is to say, it is imagination made concrete. Are these beetles also but things of whimsy?"

"Whatever their source, they have purpose!" Cordelia pointed. "See where they go!"

The four scarabs had joined together and turned away. With determination, they struggled out to reach the world.

Gregory leaped up. "We must follow them. Do not ask me why I know, but I do!"

"They trend west by south." Geoffrey pursued the scarabs attentively.

"Cordelia," Gwen said, "leave off thy dancing, and follow."

"They have touched another rock!" Geoffrey cried.

Lilting music ascended.

"They toil onward!" Magnus kept pace, following the silver scarabs with avid interest.

Behind them, the first rock split with a gunshot crack.

"Duck!" Rod shouted, and his offspring hit the ground. The stone sailed over their heads. Almost instantly, more of the lilting music rose.

"It hath conveyed its strains to other rocks," Magnus murmured.

But Rod was rising, looking toward the northwest. "Its better half is making music, too."

Cordelia said, incensed, "Why dost thou say 'better'? What music could be more melodious than this?"

"The stuff its brother is making." Rod went after the other rock. He stood a moment, listening, then said, "Its music is richer, fuller."

"Let me see." Gwen came over, then lifted her head, amazed. "Why, it is—and there is summat of an under-song with it!"

"More and more!" Magnus called from farther across the meadow. "They leave a broadening swath of music behind them!"

"Leave them be, and come this way!" Rod called. "Whatever they're doing, it can't be as important as the progress this rock is making!"

Cordelia clouded up, chin firming. "Nay! I will not leave them! I will follow wheresoe'er they go!"

Rod spun to her, taken aback by her sudden rebellion.

"There is much of interest in them, Papa," Magnus said, stepping into the breach. "Whatsoe'er hath seized this land, these scarabs may well spread to encompass all."

"They are important," Gregory asserted, staring intently up at his father. "We must follow them, Papa!"

Geoffrey said nothing; he only had eyes for the silver scarabs.

Rod reddened, anger rising. He was alarmed at his own emotion and strove to hold it down; but he also felt righteous indignation at his children's refusal to obey.

Gwen touched his arm, murmuring, "It is time to let them go awhile."

Rod stilled.

Fess said, "It is not as though they have never been apart from you."

Rod found his voice—without shouting. "Yes, but they didn't exactly get high marks for obedience that time."

"Mayhap they did not," Gwen said, "but the Crown might have toppled without their meddling."

Rod stood still.

"I kept them safe," Fess murmured, "though I will admit the margin of safety was narrow at times."

Rod lifted his eyes, gazing at his eldest two over a widening gap. For a moment, he was afraid to let them drift away—but he knew Gwen was right. "Okay. You kids follow the scarabs, and we'll follow the rock's progress."

Cordelia relaxed, beaming. "Oh, Papa!"

"But you'll stay together!"

"Oh, aye!"

"I shall not let them stray from my sight," Magnus promised.

"I'll hold you to it." Rod looked up at Fess. "You'll make sure they stay safe?"

"Certainly, Rod."

Cordelia looked disappointed, but Gregory cried, "Oh, good! Fess will be by us!" and Geoffrey cheered.

"All right, then." Rod turned away. "You'll take the low road, and we'll take the high." He managed a smile as he turned back to wave. "Be careful, huh?"

"Oh, aye, Papa!"

"Godspeed, Mama!"

"God be with you!"

"God be," was all Geoffrey managed, before he was off trailing his quarry.

Rod sighed and turned away. "Hope we're making the right decision."

"Be assured, husband." Gwen clasped his arm. "If aught miscarries, we can be with them right swiftly."

"Yes—and Fess can call even if they don't want to." Rod nodded. "Okay, darling. I'll try not to worry."

At their feet, the stone cracked with the sound of a gunshot, and its pieces went flying.

"Follow the northern shard," Gwen suggested.

Rod nodded, and off they went after the progressive rock.