by M. L. Ryan
“Wait,” he said as he scooted over to his right. “I was just warming up your side for you.”
He held up the covers in the spot he had just vacated and I dutifully moved around the bed and climbed in. The sheets were, indeed, warm and cozy, a far cry from the chilliness that winter usually imparts to bedding.
I turned on my side toward him. Alex was propped on one shoulder, contentment on his face as he gazed into my eyes.
“That is the most considerate thing anyone has ever done for me,” I said softly. “I really don’t deserve you.”
He pulled me to him and gently cupped my face in his hands before kissing me. “Sure you do,” he murmured into my lips before intensifying the kiss.
He rolled onto his back, tucked me next to him, and for the second night in a row, I fell asleep, happier than I had been in a long, long time.
That night, I had my recurring first-date-after-divorce dream. It was basically the same as always, except this time instead of getting into my own car, Alex drove up in the rented Taurus and gave me detailed instructions how to make a more effective Molotov cocktail.
~16~
All I wanted was a nice, warm shower and a real bed. Unfortunately, after the four-hour drive to Boston, and an almost three hour wait until the six-hour flight to Reykjavik, all I knew was that it would be a while before I got either.
Once we went through immigration at the airport, we were immediately whisked away in a nondescript Audi with well-tinted windows for another ride to the nondescript airfield to await our jet to Czech. If I thought New Hampshire was too northerly for my taste, now we were just below the Arctic Circle. It wasn’t really much colder than it had been at the safe house, but it was almost ten a.m. and it was still dark out. Even when the sun finally rose, I couldn’t really enjoy the view of the Icelandic countryside because it never got much brighter than twilight. The only thing that could make me any crankier than I already felt was if Angelica turned out to be our pilot.
My day improved when I was introduced to Sigbjӧrn, an affable fellow who flew us to somewhere in Norway, where we changed planes and pilots—again, blissfully not Angelica—and jetted to some place in Poland. From there, we were driven into Czech, to the city of Pardubice, west of the capital, Prague. Once safely ensconced in a house that belonged to a local Xyzok, I finally got my shower—a mere twenty-two hours later.
“Was all that extra travel and plane changing necessary?” I complained as I sat down at the kitchen table, ready to eat something that looked a little like chicken-fried steak with white gravy and boiled potatoes. The shower had improved my mood, but I hadn’t yet fulfilled my desire for a nice, long sleep in a nice, comfy bed so I was still a little testy.
“Better safe than sorry,” Alex replied. “We want Otto to think we are still in Iceland. We also had two people that resemble us check into a hotel near Otto’s place to further promote that ruse. And not flying directly here makes us harder to track if he figures out they are impostors.”
All that made sense and, after all, this kind of thing is what Alex and Sebastian did for a living. Now I felt bad that he might think I doubted his skills.
I tried some of the food, decided I liked it, and proceeded to consume everything on my plate. Alex ate all of his as well, but not with the same gusto that I had.
“So what’s next?” I asked as I took both our plates and rinsed them in the sink.
“Dessert.” He brought out a plate of small, rectangular pastries topped with whipped cream.
“I meant tomorrow.”
I eyed the seemingly open-faced cream puffs.
“What are these?”
He popped one into his mouth. “Rakvička, it means ‘little coffins’.”
“Great, let’s hope that’s not prophetic,” I said with a frown. “But omens of misfortune aside, what’s the plan?”
Alex leaned back in his chair. “Well, tomorrow, we find Sebastian’s body and get his essence back where it belongs. I’ll fill you in on the details in the morning.”
He rose from the table, took my hand, and guided me out of the kitchen. “But, tonight, we get a good night’s sleep. We will both need to be well rested for this to work.”
I was so tired that my head barely touched the pillow before I was sound asleep. Generally, I would never go to bed so soon after a heavy meal, but I figured I’d throw caution to the wind, given that a couple of times while I was eating I found myself drifting off in mid-chew.
I think Alex slept in the same bed as I did—the other side looked rumpled—but I couldn’t say for certain and he wasn’t there when I woke up. I did feel much better rested and in a more positive mood than the day before, that’s for sure.
Over breakfast, Alex made good on his promise to provide the specifics for today’s activities. Otto had Sebastian’s body on Kunětice Mountain, in a centuries-old castle located about four or five miles away. The mountaintop building was destroyed in the seventeenth century, and remained in ruin until the early nineteen-hundreds when restoration began. It took seventy-odd years to finish, and now it was open to the public.
Otto liked the location for the same reason it was so popular when it was built in the fourteen- hundreds; the landscape surrounding it was flat for miles in every direction, affording an excellent view of anyone trying to catch the inhabitants unawares. Using magic, Otto was able to obscure his use of the place as a residence from humans. This type of squatting was, according to Sebastian, a common occurrence until about fifty years ago when it was banned, mostly because some humans could actually sense the Courso presence and thought their homes or businesses were haunted.
Xyzok operatives had already determined that Otto was currently not there, and only a small contingent of household staff and a few guards remained. Because Alex was Courso, his abilities would allow us to interact with the building, as it existed in connection with the other dimension. Which meant we would see the castle as Otto would see it, not as humans would. So after the castle closed for the night, we would get in and find Sebastian’s body. Then Alex, who over the last weeks had taken great pains to learn everything there was to know about spiritual convergence, would reconverge him.
Alex and Sebastian made it sound like it would be easy, and I wasn’t sure if that’s really what they thought or if they were trying to spare me from the dangerous details. I was nervous enough, so not sharing any of their own apprehension was probably a good call.
By the time evening finally rolled around, I felt like I had downed a pot of coffee and a six-pack of some energy drink. My heart was pounding and when I was sitting still, I couldn’t stop from tapping my foot in jittery anticipation.
To add to my overall discomfort, my hair was completely out of control and getting in my way and I had forgotten the damn hair sticks in New Hampshire. Great, I was a jumble of nerves and looked like a crazed harpy.
Sebastian sensed my unease. “It’s normal to be anxious before a mission. In fact, it helps keep one sharp.”
“I suppose, but this is all way beyond my normal comfort zone,” I said, as I started pacing across the room.
“I’ve done this hundreds and hundreds of times. Trust me, my dear; you will feel more composed once we start doing something productive.”
When evening fell, we drove first to a small village near the castle. The Czech people must have some aversion to vowels, as many of the words I had seen since we arrived seemed to be completely devoid of them. Such was the case with the name of the village: Srch.
When I commented on the consonant richness of the language, Alex explained that there was a common Czech tongue twister that meant, “stick a finger through your throat”, that contained no vowels: Strč prst skrz krk. Sebastian offered plch pln skvm prch skrz drn prv zhlt čtvrt hrst zrn, which translated meant, “A door mouse full of stains escaped through grass after first eating a quarter-handful of grain”. Alex had to write them out for me to fully appreciate the economic use of letters and sounds.
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Srch only had about nine-hundred inhabitants, but it did have its own public library, which was open only one day a week, each Friday. As this was Wednesday, we were able to use it to meet up with our Xyzok backup, which consisted of six beefy, well-armed men, dressed as we were, all in black. I was a little puzzled about the guns; I figured that Courso would use magic as a weapon. But Alex explained that while magic can be effective against humans, its use is limited against the Coursodon as they can sense when it will be used and can then guard against it. Bullets, however, generally move too fast to be magically countered.
Once everyone was clear on their whats and whens of the operation, we headed out to the castle, initially in cars, which were left near a restaurant below the mountain, then on foot. By Arizona standards, Kunětice Mountain was really only a hill, so the trek to the castle, while slow because we stayed off the road, wasn’t very strenuous.
At the top, Alex and I moved stealthily closer to the castle, while our backups fanned out around the perimeter, but remained hidden. Their job was to make certain no one arrived unexpectedly while we were inside and they had been ordered to intervene only if Alex signaled for aid, which he would accomplish with a sort of speed-dial text message to their cell phones. This seemed oddly low-tech to me, but apparently they had found it to be an excellent means of communication under circumstances when speaking out loud, even in a whisper, could screw up an entire operation.
A number of buildings were actually situated on the mountaintop. In addition to the castle—a large, multistoried, stone structure, with a pointy-topped turret—there were other, smaller buildings built into one side of the large courtyard that led to the castle. It was difficult for me to see anything as we were relying only on Alex’s extraordinary night vision to navigate.
We silently circled around to the far end of the castle where Alex began to run his fingertips lightly along the stones of the turret. Suddenly, he stopped, and I could feel a small surge of magic, even though I was at least twenty feet away. Then, he walked through the wall.
Well, I guess he didn’t actually walk through the wall, it was more like he found the previously invisible doorway and walked through that. After a moment, he peeked his head out and motioned me to follow.
I was hesitant at first, mostly because to me it appeared that there were only blocks of stone before me. As I moved closer, however, I could see Alex’s hand jutting out from a hazy, dark area.
“It’s alright, my dear. Go ahead,” Sebastian urged me. “But remember, once inside, I will limit my verbal communications with you to minimize the chance of detection.”
We had discussed that earlier; Alex would have to conjure up some magic to allow us to enter Otto’s hideaway, but the less used, the less likely our presence would be detected. Because Sebastian generated a fair amount of magical energy when he spoke to me, he thought it would be safest if he kept quiet unless absolutely necessary.
I moved cautiously into the building, and was relieved when I didn’t smack into a solid wall. Instead, I found myself at the beginning of a long, dark passageway.
I turned back toward where I entered, and watched in amazement as the landscape outside became obscured with more haziness, and then I was looking at the inside of the stone wall. Now that we were no longer visible from the outside, Alex switched on a small flashlight to illuminate our way.
“I only sense two live signatures here—both are unknown to me, but neither is particularly powerful,” Alex offered as he took my hand and we began walking. “Probably just a nominal crew left to oversee the premises while Otto is not in residence.”
“Live signatures? As opposed to dead signatures?”
“Well, all Courso leave some lingering evidence of themselves even when they are no longer present. There are many residuals here; including Otto’s. I am aware of only two Courso here right now. That’s what I meant by ‘live’.”
We continued moving through the passageway for what seemed like forever. It was probably only ten minutes, but I’ve never been especially patient under the best of circumstances, and this situation was definitely nowhere close to best.
Eventually, we came to a place where the tunnel forked. Alex stopped and stood perfectly still, much as he had before he found the doorway. After a moment, he lifted his head slightly and took a long, deep breath.
“I can smell Sebastian. We are very close, go to the right.”
I had already witnessed the heightened sense of eyesight and hearing, and while I vaguely recalled Alex mentioning that the Coursodon also enjoyed more developed olfactory abilities, it didn’t occur to me that meant he had a nose like a bloodhound. I’ll bet that talent could be a problem when jammed in a crowded elevator on a hot, sweaty day. Maybe that meant I needed to tone down my use of scented bath products.
Soon, we entered a large open area with a steep stairway along one wall. We ascended cautiously as there was no railing and the stairs were quite narrow. At the top was a wooden door, through which was a landing and another staircase to climb. The pattern continued with two more doors and stairways until we found ourselves before a much larger, more ornate, carved door. It was locked, but Alex touched just above the lever handle and the door swung open.
Instead of the cramped, bleak passage, we were now standing in a high-ceilinged, elegantly decorated hallway. I felt a little like Dorothy, when she opened the door from her black-and-white world, to the riot of colors in Oz. With only the limited light of Alex’s flashlight, I could tell we weren’t in Kansas anymore—or, more precisely, Kunětice castle. Well, I guess technically we were still in the castle, but this was the magically created residence of Otto Kashanian, and the only reason that I, as a human, was able to perceive it was because I was harboring Sebastian. It was mind boggling to think that who knows how many people had been right here but hadn’t seen anything other than the castle.
We crept silently along, pausing occasionally for Alex to get his bearings. As we approached another door, I heard Sebastian groan softly and Alex whispered, “He’s in here.”
Inside was a sizeable room that in an old English manor would have been the sitting room or the parlor. Rich, dark wood paneling covered the walls and the room was furnished with ornate antiques. Directly in front of us was a huge stone fireplace, big enough for two or three people to stand in. To the left, illuminated by recessed lights in the ceiling, was Sebastian’s body.
He was in a corner, upright, in a curved, glass-fronted case, similar to a curio cabinet but without shelves. On the front of the enclosure, several LED displays showed temperature, humidity, and oxygenation levels inside. His eyes were closed and he looked rather peaceful, all things considered. If he had been lying down, he could have been sleeping. He looked just like the image Alex had showed me, albeit much paler. I couldn’t see how he was propped up in there, but I guessed there must be some kind of invisible, magical tethers at work.
I gasped, reflexively bringing my hand up to cover my mouth to hide my horror. Alex said something quietly, but harshly, in Courso that I assumed was profanity. Sebastian remained silent.
I studied the electronic numbers. “The controlled interior conditions—can we get him out or will that harm him?” I said tersely.
“Only one way to find out.”
Alex pulled open the front glass panel and we heard a small pop, like the sound a jar makes when you open it and break the vacuum seal. I’m not sure what I expected, but I was relieved when Sebastian didn’t shrivel up or turn into a pile of ashes. I gingerly touched his hand; the flesh was cool, but otherwise felt surprisingly normal. Alex grabbed Sebastian’s shoulders and lifted slightly. The body then lost all of its former rigidity and collapsed.
We laid Sebastian on the floor and Alex crouched over him and began to run his hands over him without actually touching the body.
“Fascinating,” Alex murmured, while looking almost reverently at Sebastian. “I can feel a slight energy surge emanating from him. It’s as i
f his corporeal self knows his spiritual essence is here.”
For certain, the opposite was also true. Inside me, I could feel Sebastian’s growing emotions: rage, anticipation, determination. It was difficult to keep his feelings in check, much less my own, and it took all my concentration to retain some semblance of calm while Alex’s hands continued to hover over the body.
After many minutes, Alex dropped to his knees and let out a long breath. “Fortunately, everything is intact, and I have healed the damage that led to his death.” He already looked exhausted, and we hadn’t even started the reconvergence.
“Do you need to take a break before we continue?” I asked, as I placed my hand over his.
“No, I’m fine. We should proceed; I don’t want to be here any longer than we have to.” He looked at me and twined his fingers with mine. “You ready?”
“Let’s do it,” I said emphatically.
“Hold Sebastian’s hands and, whatever you do, don’t let go.”
I scooted over so I was sitting next to Sebastian, facing him. Then I moved his hands so they were resting on his chest and grasped them firmly. Alex positioned himself near Sebastian’s head and placed his hands over mine. Immediately, I felt the now familiar zing of magic pulse through me. Alex’s head dropped and his body stiffened; the buzz increased steadily until it was actually painful, but I held on tight.
I was aware that the magic seemed to be coming into me from Alex but was also flowing out of me with equal, if not greater, intensity. The pain intensified until my hands felt like they were going to burst into flames —just when I thought I would have to let go, the pain abruptly subsided.
I glanced at Alex; he slowly lifted his head from his chest, removed his hands, and looked expectantly at Sebastian. Suddenly, I felt Sebastian’s fingers move. Lifting my hands from his, I let out a small, joyous yip when his fingers stretched.
Alex smiled cautiously at me and then we both turned our attention to Sebastian’s face.
