The Path to Otherwhere: or How I Spent My Summer Vacation

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The Path to Otherwhere: or How I Spent My Summer Vacation Page 1

by T S Paul




  Path to Otherwhere

  or, How I Spent My Summer Vacation

  T S Paul

  Legal Stuff

  Copyright © 2018 T.S. Paul, All Rights Reserved.

  Reproduction of any kind is strictly prohibited unless written permission granted by the author.

  Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Edited by Laurie Holding

  Formatted by Nina Morse

  Cover designed by Nina Morse

  Image credit TS Paul

  Special thanks to my wife Heather who keeps me grounded and to Merlin the Cat. We are his minions.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Otherwhere Author Notes

  Also by T S Paul

  Chapter One

  Don’t go into the Garden alone.

  That statement is what I’ve heard from both Grandmother and Minerva my entire life. I understand that the Garden isn’t just filled with vegetables and fruit like other gardens might be. This one is alive. My ancestors filled it with so much Magick it came to have a life of its own. Everyone who has ever worked inside its gates comes to know this. I really wanted to go in, though. My case was over for now. Director Mills told me to stay in Briarwood for a week or so until the heat over Camilla and the Strega died down. People were dead, and the entire town was in an uproar. I really needed a vacation, and searching the Garden sounded like fun. I tried to remember when Grandmother had first mentioned the dangers to me.

  “Child, it’s hard to explain. It’s like that feeling you get…like someone walking across your grave. A distant shiver, a feeling of unease. There have been documented instances where a worker is hurt, too far away from any help. And the Garden helped them,” my grandmother explained. We were in her office on the first floor. I would often play here amongst the books and strange knickknacks she’d collected.

  “Helped them how?” I asked.

  “The Garden would physically send someone down the wrong path or in one case it teleported someone in. Paths will change, and hedges will move. Back in the 1950s we had instances of creatures from the past popping in to say hello. The Garden is dangerous to the unwary. Even Minerva takes along someone as company when she visits the Garden,” she explained.

  “But I’ve seen you go in alone,” I replied.

  My grandmother pursed her lips and looked down at me sternly. Picking up a scroll from her desk, she used it as a pointing mechanism. “Been spying, have we? I allowed both you and Fergus into the small garden near the kitchen alone. That is common ground as is the outer Covenstead. You are not yet ready for the inner Coven areas. I’ve trained you well, Agatha, but there are some things you must be older for. As to where I go alone…” Grandmother paused, looking past me to the books on the wall. She waved the scroll in a circle. “There is a place, a special place where, when you are truly ready, I will take you.”

  “But,” I started to reply.

  She shook her head at me. “No. Not yet, my dear. For your future to be assured you must obey my rules. Understand?”

  I nodded my head and left her office.

  “There is a place neither close nor far, where people go to learn the things that society has lost. That which is lost is found there by those who truly seek them.” That is what Emesh told me of the place Grandmother was speaking about. He went on to describe the place as a paradise removed from time. It was where he took food from the Garden to enhance learning and culture.

  Even at such a young age, I vowed to myself that I would find the place he spoke of. How hard could it be?

  “Child, the Myst…” Grandmother looked at me sternly from her desk and shook her head. “That wasn’t a nice thing to do. Promise me you won’t go looking for that place? There are many dangers in this world alone. Searching the realms is much worse. Promise me?”

  I nodded my head and spoke the promise I wouldn’t look for strange places without help. She’d caught me climbing her bookcase to get to the top level. Lifting objects with my mind was a new skill that Grandmother was only just now teaching me and like some of my other powers, it didn’t work all that well. There wasn’t a map or a book of maps up there, but I did find a book of the gods written in a strange language.

  “Is that the guy from the Garden? He looks mad,” Fergus hopped up on the large book and stamped his foot on an etched image.

  Peering closer I could see what might be Emesh. I had suspected he was a God but could never prove anything. The square cropped beard might be different, but the eyes are what gave it away. They seemed to see everything and nothing just like the man I knew. “He does. Can you read it?”

  Fergus looked up at me with a wild look in his eyes. “Me? Read? Do I look like a human? Besides, all the writing looks like something a chicken would do. I don’t mess with those balls of feathers. Remember when that really big one tried to kill me?”

  I looked down at my constant companion and smiled. “That was a turkey, and she was just as scared of you as you were of her.”

  “Hmmph. You might say that being as big as you are, but I know better. I’m hungry. Where’s the hay?” Fergus asked.

  I ran my fingers over what he called chicken scratching. Grandmother was teaching me everything she knew as a Witch, including ancient languages. This one was similar to Babylonian, but older somehow. I needed to find my dictionary. My desk was covered in piles of books. Some new, some old. The things we studied constantly changed. There was so much to learn.

  “Hey? Food!” Fergus yelled.

  Looking down, I could see him staring up at me pointing at his mouth like one of those cartoon cats in the paper. “Your food is where it always is, back in our room.”

  “You’re a Witch. Can’t you like wiggle your nose or something? I want food now!” Fergus paced up and down across the desk.

  “Sure. Let me think of a good spell for that. How’s your squirrel? You might need to speak the language.” I raised my hand and pointed it at him.

  “Whoa! Let me just go and find that bale. Forget about the spell.” My Unicorn hopped off the desk and ran out of the room. I could hear him muttering about crazy purple rodents.

  Chuckling, I went back to searching for the book. I wouldn’t really turn him purple. The squirrel thing had been a complete accident.

  I came into my powers at a very young age. Much younger than most Witches. My first Magickal act was to change more than half the squirrels in town purple. Ever since, I’ve used it as a threat with Fergus. He didn’t know it, but I might know the spell for how to do that to him if I wanted to.

  Pushing off from the porch railing I took a couple of steps down to the yard. Thinking about the past and all the issues I had as a child here wasn’t getting me any closer to my search.

  “Hey Fergus, let’s go on a small adventure,” I called out to him.

  “Sure, if it means I don’t have to play with the cat anymore!” My Unicorn was wedged into the doorway of one of those toy gnome homes you find at garden centers. Grandmother had a veritable town of them under the large oak tree in the yard. I could remember there being one or two when I was a kid.

  Looking around, I didn’t see Zeus anywhere about. “Is he here?”
/>   “No. The Gnomes scared him off. He doesn’t like their hats,” Fergus pried himself out of the doorway. “Where are we going?”

  “Hats?” I asked, looking at the houses much closer.

  “Yeah, they’re pointy,” he replied.

  The houses looked like toys, but I could almost swear for just a second there were little faces watching me from one of the windows. I reached out to pick one up.

  “Where are we going?” Fergus asked again. He was standing on top of the largest house.

  I pulled my hand back and looked at him. “How’d you get up there?”

  “I jumped. Where are we going and will we be back in time for lunch?” Fergus asked.

  “The Garden. It’s time to look for where Emesh goes,” I replied.

  “So no lunch then. We better be home for dinner or I’m going to poop in your shoes. When do we start?”

  Picking him up I dropped him into my shirt pocket. “Right now. That gate over there looks like the way to go.”

  Chapter Two

  The moment my hand touched the garden gate my Grandmother uses every single day, there was a flash of light. Our house, the garden, and the Gnome town were all gone. In their place was a town or at least a town square. Fergus and I were in the middle of what looked to be some sort of Kabbalistic summoning circle.

  “Whoa!” I did a sort of hopping dance and jumped out of the circle. All around me I could hear giggles and outright laughing. Looking up I could see several people in strange costumes pointing at me. “Uh, hello?”

  A man stepped over near me. He was wearing brightly colored clothing and carrying what looked like a lute. On his head was an animal mask. Doing a little dance, he gave me a flourish. “Greetings! Shall I take you to my leader?”

  The small crowd gathering around all laughed.

  “Did I interrupt a play or something?” I asked.

  “Play? There is no play, there is only life.” He did a pirouette and a backflip.

  I gawked at the man’s antics for a moment, gathering my thoughts. “Do you know where I am?”

  “Of course I do. I’m in the same place. We are all in the same place!” He did another backflip and started dancing a sort of shuffle step. “This is the dance of the day. Do you like it?”

  “Why is it you bring me to all the crazy places?” Fergus asked as he stuck his head out of my pocket.

  “This was an accident,” I replied as I watched the brightly colored man dance all the way around the both of us.

  “There are no accidents. Only opportunities!” The man stopped in front of me and peered down at Fergus. “A Unicorn! Such a tiny one too. You should show him to the Owl.”

  Fergus yanked his head back into my shirt at the mention of an owl. He’d once had a very bad wild bird experience while chasing one of the mouse knights. We don’t discuss it.

  “Who’s the Owl?” I asked.

  The man in the mask burst into laughter. Gripping his body with his arms, he began howling as he ran in a circle, flapping his arms. “Who! Who!”

  “That’s about enough of this,” a voice said behind me. The crowd surrounding us parted to reveal a tall man dressed in archaic armor, holding a scepter.

  Several of the onlookers bowed, muttering their pardons. “Excuse me, Lord Magistrate.”

  The Magistrate looked down at me with fire in his eyes for just a moment. “You I haven’t seen before. This is the Garden gate. Did Emesh send you?”

  “Emesh! He’s the one I was looking for!” I exclaimed.

  “Leave the Mummer be and speak to the Owl then. He can answer your questions better than I.” The Magistrate’s expression softened.

  The Mummer drew himself up and proclaimed to the square, “Mummer? I am not a Mummer. I am a stand-up philosopher! I coalesce the vapor of human experience into a viable and logical comprehension.”

  “I’ve heard that before from you as well. Why don’t you take your act elsewhere?” the Magistrate replied.

  “But I like it here. The Library has no law that says otherwise. I can stay where I like, thank you very much!” The Mummer did a little dance.

  “Those laws are more like suggestions rather than actual rules. We have no town council or even a mayor. The Owl speaks, and we listen. My boys will escort you if you like.” Motioning with his scepter, the Magistrate called up a half dozen men dressed in modified Roman Legionaries armor.

  Holding up his hands the Mummer bowed, “I will move to the tavern. There is always an audience for what I do there.” Waving to the now dissipating crowd he shouted, “Come my people. I am adjourning to the fine drinking establishment across the street!”

  The costumed man picked up his props and under the very watchful eyes of the soldiers trotted off to a disheveled looking wooden building across the street.

  “May I have your name?” the Magistrate asked.

  I stared at him. Names have power and I was in a strange place. Keeping my left hand hidden behind my back I started trickling power to it. Fireballs aren’t just for show.

  Playing with the scepter in his hands, the Magistrate sighed and waved it through the air. “I’m not arresting you. This place is open to all. But you didn’t use the public Gate. This Gate is… special. If it’s open and available for just anyone to enter, it poses a risk to us all, and that concerns me. So let’s start with just your name, shall we?”

  He had a point. And I’ve never had a problem with simple honesty. “Agatha Blackmore. The Gate is in my grandmother’s garden.”

  The guards who had been working their way around the lessening crowd froze. The Magistrate waved his scepter and they retreated. “Marcella’s daughter or granddaughter?”

  I relaxed a bit but didn’t let go of the Magick. “Granddaughter.”

  “Then welcome to the Mystical Library, Miss Blackmore. Is Marcella coming as well?” The Magistrate nodded his head at me and smiled.

  “No, I don’t think so. This is my first time through the Gate,” I replied.

  The man suddenly looked alarmed. “First time! By Athena’s shield! Don’t you know how dangerous the pathways are?”

  “Uh, no? Emesh once told me the Gate led to a wonderful place filled with knowledge. I just wanted to see it,” I answered. “I can take care of myself.”

  The Magistrate shook his head. “Puny guns like yours are no match for what lies in wait beyond our boundaries. You are either very lucky or the Gods have laid their hands upon you. I’m thinking the latter.”

  One of the surrounding soldiers approached him and pointed across the square. The Magistrate cocked his head and listened to his man. He made a few hand motions and looked back at me. “You need to speak to the Owl. I would take you, but it appears we have another visitor besides you. And through an even more unusual Gate as well. Since you believe yourself capable, find Glaux yourself.”

  “Glaux?” I asked, recognizing the word. It was Ancient Greek, and one of the languages Grandmother was teaching me. “Doesn’t that mean little owl?”

  “So you do have some knowledge, then. Good. You’ll need every bit of it here. The library is there.” He pointed at the large building surrounded by columns. “Good luck.”

  As I watched the men turn to leave, I asked myself again, Where am I?

  “Are they gone?” Fergus asked as he popped his head out of my pocket.

  “They are. I think we have to go into that building there.” I pointed.

  “Where the owl is supposed to be. Remind me again why you brought me with you here?” Fergus asked.

  “It sounded like a good idea at the time?” I replied.

  “Yeah, like the time we went looking for the Mouse Kingdom. I can’t even go out to Minerva’s garden without those rats dive-bombing me now!” Fergus pointed out.

  “It wasn’t me that challenged them, so that is your fault, buddy,” I told him.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied as he slipped back into my pocket.

  “Trait
or. Just run away.” I looked up at the building in front of me. It was built of a red granite similar to what buildings in Egypt looked like. Composite columns, each with a different flower top, lined the entire front of the building. Broad steps led upward to what looked to be huge bronzed doors. “Now or never. Maybe Owl is just the name of the leader here? I mean Glaux is another name for an owl.”

  It wasn’t until I was actually climbing the steps that the size of the building caught up to me. It was massive. Literally the largest thing I’d seen in this town so far. If you could call three or four buildings a town.

  “Should I knock or just go in?” I asked Fergus.

  My mini-Unicorn refused to answer, but I could feel him kicking at me through the shirt pocket. The pockets had been Minerva’s idea when I was about ten years old. Our relationship together was only a couple of years old then and he finally wanted to go everywhere with me. Even if it was only to the porch or Minerva’s garden. His little hooves were sharp and every time he ran across my shoulder or clamped on with his teeth, he ripped holes in all my things. That was until Minerva thought to add pockets and line them with Kevlar.

  I gave the door to the left a push and it opened easily. Looking up I could see dimly lit chandeliers hanging from rafters. Strange objects appeared in the distance, as well as shelving that went on forever. “The inside of this place looks bigger than the outside.”

  Fergus was silent. I gave my pocket a poke. “Did you hear me?”

  “Stop poking the Unicorn! You know I hate that. So what if it’s bigger? That doctor guy has a place like that,” Fergus answered.

  “Doctor guy? Who would that be?” I asked. We didn’t have a regular doctor.

 

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