Three sharp insistent raps on the front door made us both jump. "Open up in the name of the Council of Witches!" a female voice shouted.

"That doesn't sound good," I said.

Anara smiled. "It shall be, Micah. Once they know of the Symbio Magique, then the Council will surely support us."

"Hmm, you have more confidence in governmental institutions than I do."

Three more insistent knocks came. "Open up!"

Anara replaced her half-mask and arm sleeve, then hobbled to the front door, opening it.

A tall, muscular woman with blonde hair glared at us. She wore a gold headband, a form-fitting leather top, and short flared skirt like an Amazon warrior. A blue crystal hung from a silver chain around her neck. Two other women, similarly attired, stood behind. "Anara of the Starlight Coven?" she asked.

"Yes?" Anara answered. Targon fluttered up from its bed and landed on her shoulder, then hissed at the woman.

The woman huffed at the little wyvern, then turned narrowed eyes at Anara. "I am Council Agent Xena, and you are under arrest for violations of the Sorcery Code."

"But I found him." Anara grasped my arm, pulling me forward. "This is Micah from Kansas. He is the Symbio Magique — I know it!"

"Where is Kansas?"

Anara answered. "Somewhere over the rainbow."

The woman paused, eyes narrowing. "From the Earth Realm?"

"Yes."

"That is another serious violation. He comes with us, too." The woman held out her hand. "Surrender your Talisman."

With a reluctant gulp, Anara handed over her pendant crystal.

Another woman wearing a purple crystal similar to Anara's, waved her hands in a circle. Streamers of sparkling violet poured from her fingertips, swirling and expanding into a large ring. Within it, a vision of another place shimmered into view.

A portal?

Xena stepped through first, followed by Anara, using her wooden cane for support. When I hesitated, the women behind shoved, and I stumbled through onto a stone floor at a place somewhere else.

The portal delivered us into what looked like an ancient Roman temple. Ornately carved marble pillars held up a peaked roof with a triangular cornice at one end and massive rounded-top wooden doors at the other, forming an expansive outdoor veranda. A series of rectangular rock benches lined the perimeter. The polished white rock gleamed uncomfortably bright in the afternoon sunlight. A gentle breeze swirled around the columns, wafting a faint sea fragrance, slightly muggy and salty.

I am not sure how far we traveled, but judging by the how much the two suns shifted higher in the sky, we crossed at least twenty degrees of latitude.

"That was an awesome way to travel," I remarked to Anara.

"How do you travel in Kansas?" she asked.

"Usually by car, but it takes hours just to get across the state."

"What is a car?"

"A motorized vehicle that moves along roads." As she furrowed her brow, I asked, "You don't have cars in Elysium?"

"No."

"That may be a blessing."

As Anara and I sat down on a hard bench, Xena commanded, "You shall wait here until called," then promptly turned and walked through the doors, opened by two muscular guards wearing thick leather kilts, red capes, and bronze helmets reminiscent of Spartan warriors.

So we waited. And waited.

Targon busied itself by chasing grasshoppers that dared invade our space, munching on a few.

Anara sat patiently, upright with hands on her knees. But I was not so patient. Anara's eye tracked me while I paced back and forth. Finally, I sat and struck up a conversation. "I'm sorry about the fight with your mother."

"It was not your doing, Micah," she replied with a sigh. "Long has she been critical of me. I had not followed the path she chose for me, so I suppose, to her, I am a disappointment."

In contrast, my mother had always been loving and supportive, accepting even my childish failures as learning opportunities — something that I too often took for granted. I wanted to support Anara, but what came out was, "Is there a father in the picture?" At once, I internally cringed at my tactless question.

"No," she said in an even voice, apparently not taking offence at my prying. "My mother chose a breeder male."

"Umm, what?"

"Most women take a male covenant companion to live together, but many do not." Anara lifted an eyebrow. "Do you not have male breeders in Kansas?"

"Oh, no!" I replied, but then put a hand on my forehead. "I mean, yes, there are, but it's not socially acceptable. A man is expected take responsibility for his offspring."

"Do not women care for the children?"

"Oh, yes. It is a joint responsibility. Well, ideally. Sometimes, one partner leaves."

She wrinkled her brow. "That seems complicated."

I sighed. "Yeah, it gets complicated."

"Do you have a father, Micah?" Anara asked in all innocence.

A lump grew in my throat. "I never knew my father, and my mother would never talk about him. I suppose, in a way, he was a breeder male."

Anara gazed into the distance. "I would have liked to have a father."

"Me, too," I muttered, mainly to myself. Even with all my mother did for me, it remained a hollow spot in my heart.

An awkward quiet followed as I bent down with elbows on knees. Anara looked to the distant blue sea, which lapped the base of the rocky coastal hills on which we sat. Chatty, she was not.

"I have another question," I said, breaking the silence — actually, I had a lot of questions. "All the women here have a Talisman Crystal, but men do not. Why is that?"

"Men cannot channel magic," she explained. "Long ago, a man named Cephas Carne sought power through war, and most men aligned with him, but the women coven leaders opposed them. So many people died, but in the end, the women prevailed. In his last act, Cephas cast the Curse of Stone. Soon after, the women banded together their magic and cast the Great Separation Spell, which severed the link between men and magic."

"So women have magic powers, but men do not?"

"It is so."

"Well, that changes the gender dynamics."

By now, the shadows cast by the columns had visibly moved. We were alone on the veranda, save for two disinterested guards.

"Well, there is one thing common between our worlds," I said.

"What be that?"

"Waiting on governmental action. What's taking so long?"

"Many important issues must they consider," she replied with a confidence I feared naïve. "But surely once they meet you, they will heed my words and we may end the curse once and for all."

"I hope you are right," I replied, but a cold, ominous lump churning in my gut begged to differ.

We both jerked as the massive doors creaked open, revealing the woman who brought us here. "The Council will see you now," she said curtly.

As we rose, Anara whistled, and Targon flew to her shoulder with an "eep."

Once inside, my jaw dropped. Everything about the passageway spoke of power and wealth. We walked across polished white marble floors, our footfalls reverberating off smooth stone walls colorfully illuminated by the light shining through tall, gothic-styled stained glass windows. Carved stone arches supported a rounded ceiling, on which ornate paintings depicted glorious scenes.

The passage led to a massive set of peaked double doors, constructed of dark wood inlaid with gold. Two male guards stood on either side, while a dark-haired woman sat behind a nearby desk. With a nod from the woman, the guards hauled open the doors.

Inside, thirteen women wearing toga-styled long white dresses sat on padded stone thrones arranged in a semi-circle across a raised platform. Crystal pendants of various colors hung from their necks. Attendants, all women in similar white dresses but with shorter skirts, stood behind each. A scribe holding a strange quill sat behind a white stone desk.

Most of the Council of Witches were older and displayed facial expressions of disdained superiority, as if they considered themselves goddesses. My heart sunk for Anara. Somehow, I knew this would not go well for her.

We came to a wooden podium in the center of the circular chamber, sitting below the councilwomen, so we had to look up at them — no doubt designed to intimidate. From Anara's shoulders, Targon let out a low rumble as it surveyed the council.

A councilwoman pointed a bent finger and spat, "Men are not allowed here."

"His presence is relevant to this situation," replied a gray-haired woman occupying the middle chair wearing a green crystal pendant. She tipped her head down and sighed. "Anara of the Starfall Coven — what have you done now?"

Standing at the podium, Anara grasped my arm and yanked me close to her side. "Reverent, I found him!" she said with a gleeful voice. "This is Micah from Kansas, and he is the Symbio Magique. I know it. Now, we may finally end the Stone Curse."

"Where is Kansas?" another councilwoman asked.

"Somewhere over the rainbow."

The woman shook her head. "That makes no sense."

I whispered to Anara, "Umm, maybe we should drop the 'over the rainbow' part?"

The Reverent dismissed any further irrelevant discussion with a wave of her hand. "Then he comes from the Earth Realm?"

"Yes, Reverent," Anara answered, spurring a wave of murmurs from the council.

"Anara, breaching the barrier and transporting across a human are both crimes of the most serious nature."

"But..." Anara's eyes widened. I think for the first time, she realized just how much condemnation awaited her. "He is the Symbio Magique. Surely, the Council wishes to end the curse?"

"Consider you words carefully, Anara," the Reverent hissed, eyes drawn to slits. "There is much you do not understand of the Curse. It feeds on magic, and if not handled delicately, we might hasten our doom. We deferred your past dalliances because you suffered the consequences, bringing the curse upon yourself. But this we cannot ignore." She motioned to the councilwoman to her left. "Divine him."

The dark-haired woman held up a hand and closed her eyes. The clear talisman crystal she wore glowed white as a dizzying sensation swept through my mind. After a moment, she shook her head. "I detect no magical ability. He is, after all, only a human male."

Anara wrinkled her brow and said, "Can you not feel the catalysis? Only by Micah's enhancement could I cast the spell that brought him here."

"Enough of this, Anara!" the Reverent exclaimed. "We cannot excuse your crimes. There is but one response — Severance." She passed her eyes left and right to her brethren. "Do any oppose such a sentence?" No one spoke out.

Anara shuddered and her face paled. Whatever Severance was, it horrified her.

The Reverent extended a hand and a purple crystal pendant lifted from the floor near her feet — Anara's crystal — and hovered. Green magic streamers arched from her hand and swirled around the crystal. The other councilwomen also extended hands in concert. Threads of magic in many colors joined that from the Reverent, encapsulating the crystal as if spider's prey.

"Please, no..." Anara begged, dropping to her knees as tears traced her cheek. Discarded, her cane clacked to the floor beside her. "You do not understand."

"You leave us no other choice, Anara," the Reverent replied with a tone of finality.

Then she squeezed her hand into a tight fist. Anara's crystal, by her words her most valuable possession, shattered into countless bits, sparkling as they fell to the floor and becoming as mundane as sand.

A mournful howl rose from Anara's lips, piercing my heart. She bent over, her forehead nearly touching the hard floor. If the crystal was truly her magic connection, then losing it might be like amputation of a limb. Kneeling beside her, I held her head against my shoulder while she sobbed. Targon nestled across her back, letting out burbling whimpers.

"What of the human male?" another councilwoman blurted out. "His was the second barrier crossing within a day."

The second?

Sparks tingled up my spine as I jumped up, indignant. "What? Did my mother come here? Where is she?"

From behind, Xena grabbed my arm and hissed, "Silence, boy! You have no standing to speak here."

I jerked my arm free and glared at the Reverent. "What have you done to my mother?"

She raised an eyebrow. "So, you are Dawn's whelp?"

"I am her son!"

"Curious," she replied with a cruel smile. "You mother will face judgment for her own crimes. But it shall be no matter to you." Turning again to the councilwoman on her left, she commanded, "Purge his mind."

A white glow appeared within the councilwoman's clear crystal, pulsing brighter as she leaned forward and held out a hand, intense brown eyes narrowing. Brilliant white threads shot out from her fingertips and swirled around me like tiny lashes. They collapsed inward, tightening and squeezing with countless tiny bonds.

A gray dullness rolled across my mind like a cold fog. My vision narrowed as if through a tube and my breath seemed remote. That which was myself pulled away, becoming distant and vague as if separating from my body.

No! I yelled within the growing twilight. Rage boiled up from my soul, sweeping through my mind and pushing against the fog. A flame appeared deep within my being and fed on the rage, growing into an inferno and bucking against mental bonds.

The councilwoman's glare faded against my defiant stare. Eyes narrowed, I growled, "Get out of my head!"

The white magic threads shattered, tinkling like broken glass. Then they exploded in a bright flash and thunder echoed across the hall. The shockwave blasted out. Xena, who had stood behind me, tumbled backwards. Papers on the scribe's desk fluttered high, and the council attendants staggered, some dropping the bundles they carried. Gasps and cries spilled from the councilwomen's mouths, and some shielded their eyes. Alerted by the blast, the male guards burst through the huge doors and scanned the hall.

Yet, for all the violence, it left Anara and me unscathed. Targon tilted its lizard head and peered at me as if to ask, 'what?'

"Did I do that?" I asked, examining myself in disbelief.

"Yes," Anara answered, rising beside me and taking up my hand. "The Symbio Magique awakens."