Soul Mayhem: Zed's Chronicles of the Parallel Universe Disruptions

by John Hindmarsh

  I thought his analogy was on the soft side.

  He continued, “As a result, about twenty years ago, I went on a crazy adventure. I adopted the guise of an educated and wealthy investor, human, of course. While I was here, in Londin, I met a lady, a very attractive and intelligent young lady. We—we—ah—we fell in love. We had a son. Unfortunately, his mother died due to complications during the boy’s birth, complications I couldn’t overcome. She—her soul—disappeared once she crossed the Styx. Our son survived. He was looked after, cared for by his mother’s family. I covered costs. Of course, I was unable to permanently maintain the role I had used, and I visited only occasionally.”

  Lucifer took another sip. His glass was empty. He waited while Dena replenished his drink. He lifted his glass again toward Dena. “Thank you, my dear. If at any time you tire of your current employment, let me know.” He sipped. “Where was I? Oh, yes.” He handed the folder to me.

  I opened it while Lucifer had another sip, glanced quickly at the photograph and passed the folder and its contents including the photograph to Dena.

  “My son. Of course, he doesn’t know my real identity. The last time I visited we had a major argument. Tempers ran hot. He walked out. Weeks ago. I can’t find him. I’d like to contract with Finders. Name your price.” He sipped again.

  Dena had examined the photograph and related details contained in the folder. Before I could even think of what to say, she said, without even a pause for breath, “Done. We’ll find your son. Note, if he doesn’t want to return home, we’ll ensure he is in good hands, but will not force him to move. Finders’ fee—you are to cause the return of the kidnap ransom paid by the parents of the two Tir-Kiran girls. Fifty percent in advance—tomorrow will do—and the balance when we identify and report the whereabouts of your son, which will be within sixty days. We’ll lift the geas on Hurian. You will send Henderson and his accomplices to one of the more primitive universes and ensure there’s no way for them to return here. They are to survive only if they engage in hard labor. You’ll owe us one favor, to be fulfilled at our request. Irrevocable.” She placed the binder on the small table she’d conjured earlier.

  I thought, Wow—way to go, and tipped my glass to Dena.

  I turned to Lucifer and smiled. It was intended to be a soft, warming smile, but I might have misjudged slightly. “Lucifer, there’s your answer. Good?”

  Lucifer frowned. He was deep in thought, probably checking where the ransom moneys were held. After a few seconds, he brightened, smiled charmingly at Dena. “We’re good. Dena, I repeat, if ever you grow tired of this unappreciative employer of yours, come to me. Now, my people will pay in bitcoins, if that suits?”

  Bitcoins? What the hell?

  Lucifer noted my doubts. “They’ve increased at least fifteen percent against the pound since the parents paid the ransom. They’ll be ahead, financially, even though the criminals spent a small portion. I can convert to currency, if you like?”

  “We’d prefer currency—pounds, thanks,” I said, preempting Dena. “I admit, I’m intrigued, demons—the Underworld—using bitcoins.”

  “Not only have we an appetite for bitcoins—not those developed by Ethereal, though, that’s a line we won’t cross—we’re also working on contracting with our vic—our clients, that is, using blockchain-based contracts. Very reliable. Far better than the old style. Less blood, more accuracy.”

  “That’s astounding.” Blockchain solutions, the fundamental basis for bitcoins, required tremendous computing power to generate. The results permitted private and confidential data to be securely recorded and handled; ideal for contracts, especially of the nature Lucifer was likely to be interested in. Who knew?

  He continued, “You’d be surprised how many computer programmers—coders—have forfeited to us over the last decade or so.” Lucifer reflected for a moment. “It’s bewildering. They sit there and write programs. They’re not interested in anything else. The heat doesn’t seem to disturb them. They ignore their floggings. The world’s changing.”

  He sipped the last of his drink.

  Dena said, “We’ll need a contract. Tomorrow?”

  Lucifer laughed. “I’ve almost as many lawyers as coders. I’ll make sure you receive the deposit and the contract tomorrow. Dena, thank you. My offer of employment is a serious one. Consider it. Oh, Zed, thank you for your courtesy and hospitality. There is one thing.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

  “There’s a nest of soul stealers here in your city. They’ll start to hatch in the next seven to ten days. They’ll be looking for you. Genetically programmed. No, I don’t know who their master is.”

  Damn.

  “Thank you for the information. Finders will succeed, you have our word.”

  Lucifer nodded his farewell to me and to Dena. He stepped back into the pentagram and disappeared, taking his newspaper, table, and his own chair with him. No noise, nothing flashy. One instant he was there and the next he wasn’t. I waited while Leopold sealed and shielded the pentagram. He checked for spy spells and after a minute or so, gave me the thumbs up. He left the basement, probably to check the grounds and exteriors of the houses.

  I turned to Dena and gave her a hug. “Thank you. That was very well done.”

  She returned my hug. A memory to treasure, her soft body against mine. Before I could get too enthusiastic, she asked, “You recognized his son?”

  Her question stopped me in my tracks. “No. I admit, my review was very casual. I was trying to out-think our guest.”

  “It’s Hunter.”

  Damn, again.

  oOo

  Chapter 5

  The three girls—well, I’d known them for years, and except for Dena, I think they matched the definition of girl, while she, of course, had graduated to young woman and Morwen was heading in a similar direction. Admittedly, so too was Victoria. They sat around what we called the family room. They were casually dressed—in Morwen’s case, perhaps too casually—ready for bed, and, at my and Dena’s request, were attending a hastily arranged family conference.

  “Vic, why is Hunter here under a false name?” Dena asked.

  Victoria blanched. “How—how did you find out?”

  “That’s not relevant.” Dena was in good form. “You’ve lied too many times. You smuggled this stranger into our house, hid him, and lied to us. What were you thinking?”

  For a moment Victoria seemed to rebel. Instead, she collapsed in a heap on the settee and hid her face. We all could hear the sobs. They were from the heart. Morwen moved next to Vic and lifted her up. “Shh, Sis. Tell us what’s going on. Why have you tried to hide everything from us?”

  Victoria hiccupped. Her tears streamed down her face. She said to her sister, “I promised. I couldn’t—couldn’t work out how to tell you all and keep my promise. I tried—I shouldn’t make rash—rash promises. I tried, I really tried.”

  Dena sat on the other side of her younger sister and joined the hug fest. I decided I was an intruder, that they needed to reconcile Victoria’s behavior with their genuine and embedded principles of honesty by themselves. I stood and walking softly, left the room, knowing Dena was aware of my departure.

  She—Dena—visited me later. She had Victoria’s and Hunter’s permission to disclose details. She said, “His real name is Geoffrey Lucien although he prefers to be called Hunter Lightwood. He’s planning to formally change his name. There’s something subconscious, there, I think. He was apparently concerned about being traced if he continued to use his real name. He thinks—he believes—his father is a wanted criminal. He’s a confused young man. We’ve voted and decided to help him, as long as you approve. Finders will either back out of the contract or go ahead, based on your decision. We haven’t told Geoffrey—Hunter—his father is Lucifer; that would be a step too far, at this stage. Perhaps at any stage of his life.”

  “You sure you’ve bottomed this out? There’s nothing more?”

  “Vic
thinks he’s a music mage. She saw golden notes floating one evening, while he was playing one of his compositions.”

  “A music mage? He could be a powerful force. Ask your sisters to keep an eye on that aspect, please.” Dena nodded. I continued, “As long as he’s under observation and can control his powers, I’ll not worry. Are we good?”

  She hugged me. That soft body—

  She said, “For you, we’re always good.” She pulled away before I could think straight. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”

  It was late. I decided to stop work and go to bed, hopefully to dream of Dena.

  Our housekeeper was an angel. Well, not literally, of course. Her real name was a whole paragraph and difficult to pronounce, and the girls years ago had decided to call her Angel. It seemed appropriate. She was an older pixie, rare, one of the early transfers who survived the transplant into this universe. The survival rate of later pixie transfers was far higher, closer to a hundred percent. She came to me—they can detect mages—for safety; she felt exposed in this strange universe, and I needed a housekeeper. I also recruited a tutor; a human, to ensure the girls’ education was not neglected. She lasted three months—she couldn’t match the girls in any way.

  Angel was a protector; the girls were never at risk from any of their boyfriends. She was cook and housekeeper, and sometimes confidant, for the girls when they had a problem they felt they couldn’t bring to me.

  As I entered the kitchen, Dena and Angel broke off their conversation. Dena looked guilty while Angel was totally composed. We all exchanged good mornings and Angel dished up my breakfast—I’d become addicted to English breakfasts, which meant I had to carry out additional training to compensate. I sat at the table, next to the window.

  I opened the window and pulled in the thermometer. “Dena, I thought you said we were approaching summer. Look—Thermie is shivering.” I wiped the ice off his dial and handed the small creature to Angel. “He needs warming.” Without a word, Angel placed him near the huge oven. Thermie was one of Leopold’s creatures and Angel didn’t approve of either.

  “Where’s Leopold?” I asked.

  Angel shook her head. Dena did likewise. Strange. I checked out the window. We were iced in. Something had triggered a bundle of our security spells; by all appearances it had been a fire spell attack and our shields had reacted with full force. Both Leopold and I were responsible for their power, and I suspect Dena had added her touch after we set them in place.

  I borrowed two kitchen sprites and sent them on a search to find Leopold. In the meantime, while I was concerned, I was not alarmed and continued to eat my breakfast. Dena countered my calorie overload with her modest dish of two poached eggs and little else. We both had our first coffee hit of the day. I sat back, thinking. The sprites hadn’t returned. I couldn’t sense Leopold. This wasn’t unusual because sometimes he moved more of himself into his other universes, which made him difficult to trace. Still, I was growing more concerned.

  Dena finished her coffee. I said, as I placed my empty mug back on the table, “Last night you mentioned you had more than one topic on your mind. If you like, we can resume the discussion after I check for Leopold.”

  Dena frowned. “I’ll help search. Yes, I have more—um—concerns.”

  I headed to the front door where I could check what time Leopold had last returned to the house. A house sprite—her name was Maisy—rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She was very helpful; I think our house sprites like the three girls because they—the sprites—are far more amenable than those in the City. She explained, “I was up all night waiting for Leopold to return. He went out at about one a.m. and returned two hours ago. He looked weary and cold.”

  I thanked her, and she returned to her bunk in the small room off the front lobby. I called Dena, who had commenced searching the house. I updated her with the sprite’s news and added, “He’s probably asleep, so let him be. I’m heading outside to reset our wards. Want to join me?”

  “I’m on my way.”

  I waited. Two minutes later we headed outside, wearing unseasonably cold weather clothing. It was cold. Freezing. The fountain was iced up. I hoped the water sprite and her fish had survived. Dena went to check while I headed to the front entrance.

  One of the heavy iron gates had been twisted off its bottom hinge and there were traces of a struggle or conflict of some kind in the gravel of the drive. When Dena joined me, I sketched a sigil so that she could see my hand and finger movements and we watched the replay. Leopold had fought two intruders, ogres, a sub-genus I hadn’t seen before. Their skin was dark red and their hair blue. They carried cumbersome iron swords, one of which had been broken when they forced open the gate. I was impressed. The gate spell was one of my more powerful. We watched as Leopold fought and killed both intruders and pushed their bodies into another universe; I think it was unoccupied. Probably it had been wrecked in the Disruption. However, there was no indication of why the ice shields had been triggered.

  “We owe Leopold. I’ll tell Angel to bake his favorite chocolate cake for lunch.” Dena knew all the foibles of my household.

  I agreed. I repaired the gate, fixing it back in place, and added more power to its defenses. Lots more power.

  When I finished, I said, “The ogres were a diversion, I’m sure, although a powerful one. Walk the boundary with me; we still need to discover what triggered the shields. They’ll have to be recharged.”

  A stone wall, about three thousand feet in length, moss-covered, ran along all four sides of my estate. The fifteen or so acres seemed to qualify as such. This part of Londin, eight years ago, contained small farmlets and I’d managed to purchase two of them adjacent to the houses, shortly after moving here. The perimeter wall was a good twelve feet high and three feet thick, steel cored, and reinforced with spells. Razor wire was strung along the top. The wall provided a solid base for our protective shields. In theory, we were self-sufficient; we had clean water, vegetable gardens, some farm animals, and our own steam generators, backed by solar collectors, for electricity. I headed to the generators first—I needed to build up the charge in my power cells, the source of a large portion of my magic. Resetting all the shields was going to be exhausting.

  I stood next to the primary generator and triggered the drive. It kicked in and the power built as the generator began to spin. I was next to the storage batteries and raised my hands toward the power conduits. Dena stood way back. Lightning crackled, and I felt the charge hit my hands. I remained in place for five minutes, absorbing the flow of electricity. At last, I dropped my hands, breaking the circuit. I set the generator to run for another thirty minutes; I would need a recharge, I was certain, once I attended to the shields, and would draw from the batteries.

  “I think I’m relieved I don’t need to use electrical power,” Dena said, as we began our tour of the perimeter.

  “I’d like to see your reaction. Your hair standing on end, your eyes sparkling, charges hitting your hands—it would provide a certain excitement,” I teased.

  “I think there are other forms of excitement I’d enjoy far more.”

  I ignored the possibilities. If I hugged Dena now, it’s impossible to say how her body would react to me. I held enough electricity to kill someone—several someones—if I was careless.

  We continued our examination and walked almost half the wall. Dena found the scar in the stonework and the broken razor wire along the top. “See, there.”

  “Yes. I’ll repair the wire and then recharge the shields. Take care; watch but stand back.” I wasn’t certain whether Dena would be able to replicate the shield spells. Leopold could. Dena would have to develop her form of magic to a higher level, something we were working on.

  I focused my mind, visualizing a conduit from my hands to the spells covering the wall. The effectiveness of the shields had reduced by perhaps fifteen percent. There was still enough power remaining to severely damage anyone—human or demon—who attempted to trespass. I fed
power to the lacework of spells, repairing and strengthening their structures. Ten minutes passed. The spells were fully functional and fully charged. I dropped my hands. My suspicion had been correct. I would need to recharge.

  “Check the exterior. Try to identify who or what attempted this incursion.” I watched as she focused, ready to guide and support her, if necessary.

  Dena was more than capable. I could sense her focus, the threads of magic she was generating, and the reach of her mind to the other side of the wall. I used my magic to carry out the same task. I chuckled to myself. Lucifer had been correct. Hurian indeed was looking for revenge.

  I waited for Dena to analyze her results.

  Her eyes widened. “It was Hurian. What will you do?”

  “I’ll call him up when we are back in the house. You can remove the geas I placed on him, as agreed with Lucifer. I’ll consider Hurian’s penalty for attacking our property. He and his fellows have to understand they can’t attack me, my property, or those under my protection.” Unconsciously, I had built up a wave of anger. I pushed it down. It was far too early to attempt a broader reaction against Lucifer’s demons, although intuitively I understood it would happen one day.

  “I can help. First, though, when we’re back inside, can we discuss those other matters?”

  “Certainly. I need to recharge, first. I’ll be in my study in, what, twenty minutes. Will that work?”

  Dena nodded. Something was worrying her. I refrained from checking her thoughts; I considered the minds of the three girls to be totally off limits, and they understood and appreciated my care and caution. Dena headed to the house and I headed to the batteries. I needed that recharge.

  oOo

  Chapter 6

  Dena had changed into more business-like wear. Almost. She was wearing a short pink skirt, white leggings and neither hid the appeal of her body. Her blouse was white, long -sleeved and low-cut. She was wearing white runners. I was unsure of her intended message. Purity? Challenge?