Shadow Realms

by M K Mancos

  I didn’t know how long I stood staring at that particular work, but the sound of cups rattling on a tray caught my attention, and I turned as Rallie came into the room, with a teapot and cakes.

  She placed the tray on a low-slung coffee table with each leg carved to look like a different animal. To say her home was eclectic wasn’t a lie.

  Colvin stood across the room, staring at a carved arch in the corner.

  Rallie straightened from placing the tray down and regarded him with a curious glance. “You thinking of getting married?”

  Colvin visibly shook at the very idea. “No. Not even a prospect.”

  “Hmm.” The noncommittal sound had Colvin’s face going pale. “That’s a blessed arch I use for preforming wedding ceremonies. I’ve got a pretty good track record. None of my couples have gotten divorced or even separated.”

  Colvin gave her an unsure smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Do.” She took a seat in a chair that was as ornate as it was uncomfortable looking. “Come have some tea and cakes and tell me what the Convention is doing to get my niece back.”

  I started. How in the hell did she know I worked for the Convention? Really, why was I surprised? She knew I’d wanted a paper towel and worried about her floor. How hard was it to pluck my employer’s name out of my head?

  Colvin shot me a worried glance, but I gave a subtle shake of my head. No sense in hiding the truth from someone who could read it from a mile away.

  I walked over and took the cup she offered me and sat on the edge of the wooden chair, conscious of my damp jeans. “First, I need to know everything about her. What are her powers, no matter how latent?”

  Rallie poured another cup of tea and handed it to Colvin. “She has so many pockets and facets of talents that manifest at odd times. I’ve often thought she’s a magical chimera. Pieced together from all the talents in our family over the generations.” She shook her head. “I don’t even think she knows what all she can do.”

  All right, not what I wanted to hear, but I could work with it. “What’s her chief talent?”

  “She can see the multiverses. All possible variations of a person’s life, no matter what dimension it’s from. She also has an affinity for time wells.” Rallie lifted a shoulder. “Though, as far as I know, she’s never opened one. But she can see them.”

  I held the warm cup between my cold hands. “Right before she went missing, time wells tried to open all over the City. I traced her essence to a street corner in the Village, and it just ended. My guess: one managed to open and she fell in, then it closed behind her.”

  Rallie gave a nod. “That was my fear. I’ve no way to trace her through time wells. Or multiverses. If she fell into an alternate version of our timeline…” the words trailed off and she looked off into space with eyes filled with despair.

  “I’m—the Convention—is going to do whatever we can to find her and bring her home.” I didn’t make the promise lightly, but after tonight, knowing she had the ability to touch me through time, I felt fairly confident I could reach her. If I only knew when to look.

  Twelve

  Kells

  I stood dead center in a pair of circles, feeling like the biggest fool on the East Coast. Chalk drawings of ancient sigils lined the border between the circles. Compass points were drawn in the four corners. Candles in red, blue, green, and yellow representing directions and elements were situated at the corresponding points. Herbs burned in censors around the room. A full coven chanted to raise the power in the room.

  Once Mathilda and Bea set their mind to the task they’d been very quick to assemble those they knew who lived close by and practiced the craft. It had all taken maybe an hour and half to put together from start to finish.

  Gemma stood in front of me with her eyes closed and golden hair glowing in the candlelight. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Knowing I was descended from her made me so proud—it didn’t, however, instill me with any more confidence in this endeavor.

  I had my doubts this scheme was going to work.

  Not that they had done anything wrong. On the contrary, as far as I could tell, everything was spot on for performing a ritual.

  Unfortunately, it hadn’t opened a time well.

  As a matter of fact, the sands of time hadn’t changed, twirled, blown, or shifted in the slightest since I’d been told to stand there in the goddess pose. I sighed, stirring the candle flames a good three feet away from me.

  The chants increased. Not even the first tingle moved across my skin.

  I put my hands up in a time-out signal that was lost on the assembled women. “Time out. Time out.”

  They wound down the chant and opened their eyes to stare at me. Gemma canted her head with a question in her eyes.

  “It’s not working. Something’s wrong.” I put my hands on my hips. “I can’t put my finger on it either. It’s almost like I’m standing in null space.”

  One of the women who’d come to help—Dotty—put her hand in her hair and scratched, making her bright red wig move back and forth on her head as if it might fall off at any moment. “Null isn’t good. What should we do?”

  Despite the seriousness of the situation I found myself fighting laughter as her wig hung drunkenly off her head. “I have no idea. We probably need to figure out why this space isn’t working.”

  Not for nothing, but I’d watched the care and dedication both Bea and Mathilda used while cleansing and readying it for the ritual. They hadn’t missed a step or cut any corners. Therefore, I had to conclude that it was some other cause that failed us.

  I turned to study all the runes, but only recognized about one in three of them. “What are these? I’m not familiar with these particular symbols.”

  Mathilda made a face of great umbrage. “My grandmother wrote these, as they were passed from her. They’re sigils of great power.”

  “I have no doubt about that. They just aren’t working in this instance.” I made my voice as low and soothing as possible. I didn’t need a full generational witch mad at me. Goddess only knew where she’d send me in time.

  Generational magic was very potent and not to be dismissed. On the other hand, for some reason these symbols didn’t resonate with my particular talent.

  I’d never been the type of witch who relied on such devices to invoke my powers. Most of the time I didn’t need it to, it triggered on its own. Horrible to have such little control, but I hadn’t really cultivated the talent, but rather hidden from it.

  Despite my reluctance to invoke my talent, it did give me an idea.

  “I think I might have a way to get this ramped up.”

  The coven turned and looked at me as one. Yes, they had realized early on that I talked a bit differently than they did, but we had managed to communicate. Some of the slang and colloquiums were different, but not by enough to make it impossible to carry on a conversation.

  “When I stood in the kitchen earlier and opened that mini-portal, I was near water. Had my hands in up to my elbows. I wonder, if we got a bucket or bowl, or even a large sheet cake pan and filled it with water, we could use that as a focus.” The more I talked, the more my arms waved and moved. I often did that when I got excited or tried to get a point across. However, they just looked at me as if I was going to try and fly around the room.

  Slowly, Desdemona Burkhart, a chorus girl who looked like one of Flo Ziegfeld’s original Follies, stepped forward and broke the circle. Not that it was highly maintained. Still, the rest of the women moaned. She put a hand up to hush them.

  She stepped toe-to-toe with me and looked into my eyes. “You definitely have the sign of water about you. But I’m reading others, not as strong though.”

  I let a small breath escape me, unknowing that I’d been holding it. Not that I was afraid she’d give some horrible proclamation, but because this was uncharted territory for me. “What do you suggest?”

  She turned to the other ladies, her bright bl
ue eyes sparkling in the light from the candles. “I think she’s got something. Let’s bring in a trough.”

  “A trough. That’s a little big, don’t you think?” My mind whirled with the possibilities. Finding a horse trough in the middle of Manhattan might be a challenge—even for the time period.

  While they found and brought one in, I rearranged and altered the sigils around the circle. I needed ones that were personal to me. “If and when they get the trough, it will have to be cleansed both physically and mystically.”

  Actually, I hoped they went with my idea of a large sheet cake pan. It was easier to carry, didn’t require as much water, and had a greater width and length.

  Well, maybe not as long as a horse trough, but it just made more sense to me to use something from a baker. Did they even have pans that size in this time? I had no idea, and wasn’t going to start asking now.

  I continued to work my way around the circle, rubbing out sigils and changing them when I found one that didn’t work for me. I used symbols for movement, time, my astrological sign, birthday, and ended it with the symbol my Aunt Rallie used for her business.

  What would be more personal than the logo of the woman who’d given me a home when I so desperately needed it?

  A shadow cast over the spot I worked. I looked up as Bea set hands to hips and studied my new sigils.

  “You’ve changed them. That’s not good.”

  Ready to defend my decision, I sat back on my heels. “Sorry. I have this nagging feeling that it needs to be more personal. My energy. Not generic.”

  “We heard from the others. They’ll be back tomorrow. It’s getting too late to do much more tonight. People have to be up for work in the morning.”

  Disappointed, I pushed up from the floor. I dusted the chalk off my fingers. “One day won’t make a difference. I don’t think.” Hell, at this point, I didn’t know much of anything. I did know that as long as I stayed inside the shop I was unlikely to get sucked into an array of time wells.

  At least, I didn’t think I could. Wells could open an infinite number on top of each other. The very structure made it possible to slip from one to another and end up crossing many time streams and be none the wiser. Did I believe that might happen in this space? No. Whoever or whatever had opened those wells had a particular goal in mind. Not that I possessed any information to support my theory, but I felt it deep in my gut.

  Then again, Mathilda did make mention of dark magics afoot. Though what they’d want with multiple wells, I had no idea.

  I took one last look at the circle and went to my room. Tomorrow promised to be a long day.

  Thirteen

  Malachi

  Rallie invited us to say for dinner. Actually, the words she used suggested she was tired of hearing our stomachs growl. Couldn’t blame her. Mine had gone from a mild complaint to let me speak to your manager. Embarrassment while trying to conduct an interview made me feel a little less than professional. Not only that, but it undermined the Convention’s reputation of fear and awe.

  Nothing worse than being outed by one’s own stomach.

  As Rallie toiled in the kitchen, Colvin and I continued to walk around and look at all the artifacts of a life spent bringing beauty and love into the world. In the war against the darkness, Rallie was a bold force of light.

  For some reason, I couldn’t seem to stop staring at the mosaic of Kells. It called to me like no other piece of artwork I’d ever seen. Something about the fact the tiny pieces of glass showed so much emotion, blew me away.

  The curve of the cheek looked as smooth as skin. I didn’t realize I’d reached out to touch the portrait until Rallie walked up behind me and startled me when she started to talk.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  I nodded. “You’re very talented.”

  She raised her eyebrows in a shocked expression, then started laughing. “Oh, dear boy. I didn’t make this. That’s a mosaic my great-grandmother made.”

  I turned to her more than a bit surprised. “This is Kells.”

  “Yes and no.” She touched the tiles reverently. “Like Kells, my great-grandmother could see time wells, but she had one extra talent: she could willingly walk through dimensions. So, this is Kells, but one in another time and dimension.”

  I laid my receiving hand close enough to the artwork to feel the energy coming off it, but not close enough to actually touch. For some reason, I’ve always picked up more signatures in the energy field that surrounded an object than to actually hold it in my hands.

  This one was particularly full of stories. I sifted through the years, the love, the devotion, the knowledge that the woman who laid the tiles did so from memory, and I found the signature I reached. Like a timestamp, every object had its origin imprinted in the very fabric of its makeup. Materials used for magical workings have a stronger signature. Another fact not many people knew was that each dimension had its own flavor. What one smelled and tasted like on the magical palette wasn’t the same as another. The frequencies varied depending on dimension.

  “That’s the 1920s. I can feel that as potent as the blood that runs through her veins.” I shot Rallie a look. “She was there. Not in another dimension. In this one.”

  Surprise made Rallie pull back a bit. “You’re sure?”

  “I do work for the Convention.” I ran my hand over the mosaic once again. “Unfortunately, I believe your part of the story is correct. She was doing this from memory. We might have the range of years, but not the exact one.”

  Rallie’s brows lifted and her expression said she was afraid to hope. “Does that help?”

  “A little. It at least narrows it down.”

  “Good. Then we can eat.” She started back for the kitchen. “You and Colvin can sit in the dining room. I’ll bring in the food.”

  I didn’t know what to tell her, but now I had a place to start, I was energized. My appetite had taken a backseat to my need to find Kells. But no magic working ever came free of charge. The body, in order to produce any magic, had to have fuel. One of the most basic kinds was food.

  The dining room was a cozy little space located in a nook between the kitchen and the stairs. The same rusty red walls were featured along with more artwork from bygone eras.

  Still, I did need to eat to refuel. The shadow realms were getting closer. I could almost feel their hot breath on my neck.

  Along with slobber.

  I turned my head and a small dog sat on the stairs. It was old and apparently blind, which was probably the reason why it didn’t come to inspect me and Colvin when we came in.

  Colvin sat across from me. His gaze wandered to my drooling companion. “You’ve found a friend.”

  “Actually, it found me, poor soul.” I gave it my hand to sniff. It decided to lick it instead. “What’s going on, little fella?”

  “He’s old as rocks, that one. Don’t have the heart to take him on the long ride.” Rallie put a bowl of sauce and one of noodles on the table. “I know I gotta be cruel to be kind, but I just can’t. We’ve been through too much together.”

  “In my job, I don’t have time for a pet. Not even for a familiar.”

  “Old George is more of a guardian spirit by this point.” She jerked her head to the right. “Bathroom’s over there if you want to wash your hands.”

  I took the hint.

  Things were moving along at pace. I needed to draw Rallie into a conversation about her great-grandmother. As a matter of fact, I needed to know everything about her. Where she lived, how she’d met Kells in the supposed other dimension. Did great-grandma know that she was fashioning a portrait of one of her descendants. At least, I assumed Kells was a descendant from the way the lines of talent ran and the connection through the portrait.

  I washed my hands in the sink and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like ten miles of bad road. It was a wonder Rallie ever let me into her house. But then she knew things without ever asking.

  Her power of percept
ion was amazing.

  I dried my hands and returned to the table. Colvin had already filled his plate but hadn’t started eating yet. Nice to know he’d waited for me.

  During the meal, we engaged in small talk. Not anything earth-shattering or revealing. Rallie did ask about our drive through the mountains during the downpour.

  “I don’t want to ever make a drive like that again.” I wound spaghetti around my fork. “Could barely see beyond the windshield.”

  “And you were determined to get here.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “Well, yes. Stopping at the side of the road in poor visibility didn’t seem like an option. It wouldn’t have taken much for someone to come around the corner and slam into us.” Honestly, I didn’t think that point needed made, but apparently it did.

  “Bad weather whips up quick in the mountains. It’s best just to let it have its way and then clean up the mess afterward.” Rallie talked about the weather as if it had a personality and could be ignored like a bratty child.

  As a member of the Doran family, I knew weather could be worked. We had some of those in our blood. However, it was a tricky proposition that I didn’t recommend.

  Colvin watched the conversation, though he hadn’t contributed much to it. I wondered more than once what he was sent to do besides watch me and pretend to be my assistant. His innocent expression hid a sharp mind and keen intellect. I also suspected he hid more than his fair share of talent.

  Exactly how long he’d known Astrid, I hadn’t a clue, but I sometimes felt he’d known her a hell of a lot longer than me.

  He caught me watching him and gave me a deer in headlights look then returned his attention to his plate. I never knew spaghetti could be so interesting.

  We’d danced around the questions long enough, and I really needed some answers, so I could start pinpointing exactly where in time Kells had been taken and why.

  “Did your great-grandmother know Kells? Had they ever met in this plane?” Might as well narrow down if they had a connection other than blood.