Seams in Reality

by Alex Siegel

  Emboldened by his success, he tried for something more elaborate. He created a sword made of solid diamond. He grabbed it out of the air, and the light weight delighted him. He clothed himself in titanium armor next. He marched around the room, and the metal plates banged together.

  A knight needs a steed, Andrew thought.

  Suddenly, he was riding a black stallion.

  No, bigger!

  He was sitting astride a red dragon with flames shooting out of its nostrils. The land below was a charred wasteland. A great battle between dragon riders had been fought here, and he alone had survived. He was Sir Marcus, greatest of all warriors!

  He looked back at the woman riding behind him. Her brown hair was like brushed silk, and her eyes were pools of melted chocolate. She was wearing a white gown which fluttered in the wind. They were flying at a great height, and she was clinging to him in fear. He patted her bare thigh to comfort her.

  A white dragon came up beside Sir Marcus. He drew his sword as he prepared to defend himself and his lover from the unexpected threat. Strangely, an old woman with blonde hair was riding the white dragon. She was wearing a black button-up shirt and blue slacks.

  "Enjoying yourself?" the old woman said calmly.

  "I am Sir Marcus! State your business, wench, or I shall run you through with my Sword of Reckoning!"

  She shook her head sadly. "This is exactly what I was afraid of. You had a tiny taste of power, and you immediately lost your grip on reality. Now you're trapped in a delusion."

  "You speak, but your words make no sense, foul maid!"

  "You're Andrew Kenworthy."

  "No!" he yelled. "I'm Sir Marcus, Lord of the Realm."

  "You're a young man standing in the basement of the Fine Arts Building of Theosophical University. I might add you have a rather silly expression on your face. It's embarrassing."

  "Untrue!"

  She sighed. "This is one of the dangers we face as sorcerers. Our potent imaginations can sweep us away. There are tricks for escaping a delusion, but that's a lesson for another time. Let's just get you home. You are Andrew Kenworthy!"

  The statement crashed into his mind and shattered his delusion. Suddenly, he was back in the seam chamber. The concrete walls were a great disappointment after riding on a dragon in the sky. He realized what had happened, and his face grew warm. The sword and sorcery fantasy had been very childish. If he were going to get lost in a delusion, he would've preferred one with some literary merit.

  "Sorry, guys," Andrew said sheepishly.

  "Not your fault," Keene said. "I talked you into it, but no harm was done, and you'll remember this lesson next time."

  Andrew nodded.

  "I think you and Charley have classes to return to," Tonya said. "We'll meet at my house at 6 o'clock. Keene and I will have dinner there, but we're just going to talk about boring sorcerer politics. You apprentices can eat at a restaurant and spend the night out. Show Serkan what passes for fun around here."

  Andrew smiled. He had eaten every meal in the cafeteria for months. Real restaurant food would be a treat.

  He and Charley left the chamber together. He was still feeling a little embarrassed, and he kept his eyes down. They soon emerged into afternoon sunlight.

  "It's OK," she said. "The same thing happened to me the first time."

  Andrew glanced at her. "What was your fantasy?"

  "I'm not telling you that!" She gave him a dirty look.

  "You were in mine."

  "I'd rather not hear the sordid details, thank you."

  "It wasn't dirty," he said, "but you were kind of half-dressed..."

  Charley rolled her eyes. "That's enough, really. Let's just get to class and stop saying things we'll regret. OK?"

  "Sure."

  * * *

  Blake checked the clock on the nightstand and saw it was 5 PM. It was just about time to get going. He wanted to reach Theosophical University by nightfall, and he had to drive across Chicago to get there.

  He looked over at the BPI agent lying on the other bed. The man was engrossed in a game on his phone. He was madly tapping and swiping on the tiny screen while he chewed his lower lip.

  It begins, Blake thought.

  His suitcase was lying on the floor. He got out of bed, opened the suitcase, and fished out a large bottle of cologne. Gold paint and French writing made the cologne look expensive, and it was, but it also had a surprise. He popped a concealed latch on the bottom.

  An emerald dropped into his hand, and he took a moment to admire it. The nearly flawless natural gem had a square cut and was the size of his palm. As a mere gemstone, it was probably worth a million dollars, but that was only the beginning of the story.

  A Russian empress had worn it on her crown in the eighteenth century. She had been a very jealous woman, and she had kidnapped the prettiest young women in the land to eliminate the competition. She had tortured and disfigured her captives before burying them alive under her castle. One of her victims had been a latent sorcerer, and as a result of that cruel death, a tiny seam was embedded in the emerald's crystal structure.

  It was a priceless artifact. The BPI kept all known portable seams locked up in a top secret vault. Possessing one without proper authorization was a felony punishable by life in prison if not death.

  Blake carried the emerald over to the BPI agent and showed it to him.

  The agent's eyes widened. "Whoa! Where the hell did you get that?"

  "Take a close look." Blake handed the gem to him.

  The agent's eyes stared deep into the faceted depths.

  Mind-control was one of the infernal arts, but it was a simple extension of other forms of sorcery. Blake simply had to force a belief deep into the mind of the BPI agent, an easy target in this case. Blake gathered his energies, banished extraneous thoughts, and began the spell. He used the tiny seam as a conduit for his power.

  "You're tired," Blake said in a slow, deep voice. "Stay here and rest. I'll be with you all night. Remember that. Forget you saw me leave, and forget this gem."

  The agent tried to fight the command, but Blake's highly-trained will was a hundred times stronger. He beat down all resistance with laughable ease. The agent eventually settled back and closed his eyes.

  Blake took his emerald, grabbed a set of car keys from a desk, and left the hotel room. Two more agents were in the room next door. He had to deal with them, too, but he didn't expect any difficulties. Lacking any talent, they had no means to protect themselves. Their impressive guns and muscles would do no good at all.

  Blake was far more worried about Tonya. If he ran up against her, the outcome might be very different. One step at a time, he thought.

  * * *

  Hurry up! Andrew thought.

  He was staring at a clothes drier in the basement of his dormitory. He had run a load of laundry so he would have something clean to wear tonight, but the drier was taking longer than expected. He checked his watch and realized he was almost out of time. He couldn't go out wearing his current clothes. He had to look nice for Charley even though it wasn't really a date.

  Andrew wished he could dry his clothes with sorcery, but the seam was too far away, and he didn't know the spell anyway. It was so frustrating. When would he get some real power?

  "To hell with it," he thought.

  He opened the dryer and grabbed his clothes. They were still damp, but he would deal with it. He ran upstairs to his room, taking the steps two at a time. He fumbled with his keys while his arms were full, and he opened his door.

  He threw the bundle of clothes onto his bed, planning to fold them later. He picked out his nicest shirt and pants, and he quickly changed. The clothes were more wet than damp, but he ignored the discomfort as he brushed his hair. Finally, he was ready, more or less, but according to his watch, he was already late. He grabbed his coat, ran out of his room, and made his way outside.

  The sun was setting. Orange light reflected off the many small windows of the build
ings as he jogged across campus. He put on his coat when the chill started to seep through his wet clothes.

  * * *

  Blake was parked well down the street from Tonya's red brick house. He hadn't needed her home address to find her because the power she exuded was more than enough guidance.

  Tonya had company. Blake recognized Charlotte's energy signature, but there were two other sorcerers he hadn't expected. One was Keene, a member of the Sorcerer's Tribunal. Blake hated Keene as much as Blake hated Tonya. Both of them had been responsible for Blake going to prison.

  Blake didn't recognize the fourth sorcerer. Judging from his relatively low power level, he was probably Keene's apprentice.

  Keene's arrival made a dangerous situation even more so. Blake couldn't handle either master sorcerer alone. If they attacked Blake as a team, his mind would be destroyed within three seconds.

  He took his emerald out of his pocket and rubbed it while he considered his next step. He was as close as he dared to get to the house. He could hide his own energy, but the portable seam was another matter. Tonya or Keene could detect it from quite a distance, and if Blake left it behind, he would be powerless.

  He sighed. He had no choice but to sit tight until an opportunity presented itself. In the meantime, he would work on his plan. He had some ideas, but they hadn't come together yet. Much depended on the first move.

  The energy of yet another sorcerer drew Blake's attention to his right. Andrew Kenworthy was running across campus towards the house. The boy was huffing and puffing with a red face.

  Having so many sorcerers in one place was extremely unusual. Normally, they tended to keep to themselves with perhaps one apprentice on hand. Having six within a mile of each other was practically a convention.

  Be patient, he told himself. Your time will come.

  * * *

  As Andrew approached Tonya's house, he sensed the other sorcerers already inside. He would be the last to arrive. He was out of breath when he finally reached the front door. He hastily tucked in his shirt before knocking.

  Tonya answered the door. She was wearing a black evening dress that went down to the floor. White sequins decorated her midsection, and they sparkled like stars. He had never seen her so dressed up, and she had even put on a little eye shadow.

  "Wow," Andrew said. "I didn't know this was such a special occasion."

  "I don't often have honored guests like Keene. I decided to look nice. You're late. Come in."

  He entered the foyer. Charley and Serkan were already there, but Andrew's attention immediately went to Dan Easton. The young BPI agent was wearing a nice blue shirt and black slacks.

  "What are you doing here?" Andrew said.

  "I'm your chaperone," Dan said.

  "We don't need a chaperone."

  "The BPI isn't going to let a group of apprentices go out for the night without any kind of supervision. Who knows what could happen?"

  Andrew sighed with annoyance. His night out with Charley was getting crowded.

  He ignored Dan and looked at her. She had stuck with her usual jeans, but she had traded her sweater for a ruffled brown shirt. A necklace with a tiny ruby provided a little color. She was wearing high heels instead of her normal boots, and her awkward stance suggested she wasn't comfortable in them.

  "Let's go," she said. "I'm starving."

  "Where are we going?" Andrew said.

  "Tapas Hermosas. It's not far. I'll drive."

  He had never heard of the restaurant, but if Charley liked it, he would certainly give it a try.

  "Wait," he said, "you have a car? You never told me that. My parents can't afford to buy me one."

  "I bought it myself. With what the BPI pays you, you should be able to get one, too."

  Andrew raised his eyebrows. He wasn't used to having enough money to buy things like cars.

  He turned back to Dan. "That reminds me. When do I get my first paycheck?"

  "End of the month," Dan said, "just like the rest of us. Shall we go?"

  Andrew, Charley, Serkan, and Dan left the house. Charley led the group to a red Ford Fiesta parked on the street. It was exactly the kind of cute, little car girls loved and boys found embarrassing.

  The four of them got inside, but it was a tight fit. Dan insisted on sitting up front which forced Andrew to get in the back with Serkan. He was wearing a gray jacket over a shirt with black and white stripes. A black scarf was wrapped around his neck. He was smiling pleasantly.

  Andrew had an idea. He could pump Serkan for information about the darker, more forbidden aspects of sorcery. Andrew didn't plan to practice any of the infernal forms, but it couldn't hurt to know about them, and he was curious. Tonya refused to discuss the subject.

  I'll wait until after he has a drink or two in him, Andrew thought.

  Charley started the car and drove off.

  * * *

  Blake watched the three apprentices leave together. They were much easier targets than the masters, and now they were on their own. Blake had the advantage.

  He smiled. This could work out nicely, he thought. A plan was forming in his mind, and one of those apprentices was exactly what he needed.

  Blake started his own car and followed at a safe distance.

  * * *

  Andrew looked around as he entered Tapas Hermosas. It was a cozy little restaurant which could seat at most a hundred people. The tables had real white table cloths and wine glasses. Brown and yellow tiles covered the floor. Traditional Spanish paintings decorated the walls, and they depicted bull fighters, festivals, and the Spanish royal family. A man with a guitar strummed softly in the corner.

  Andrew had never eaten tapas, and he looked curiously at the food already on the tables. The dishes were small, more like appetizers than main courses, and they were colorful. Most diners had ordered a wide variety and were sharing with their friends and family at a relaxed pace. There was a lot of talking and drinking.

  It looks OK, Andrew thought.

  The hostess seated Andrew, Charley, Dan, and Serkan at a table. Andrew noticed Dan sat with his back to the wall and kept his eyes on the door. His right hand hovered near the gun hidden under his jacket.

  Andrew looked at the menu, but a lot of it was in Spanish. Even the English translations contained some unfamiliar terms. He had grown up in an "American meat and potatoes" household with a mother who considered a pomegranate to be an exotic delicacy.

  "Have you eaten here before?" he asked Charley.

  She shook her head. "No, but I've always wanted to try this place. I heard it was great."

  "Do you mind if I order for everybody?" Serkan said. "I've eaten tapas before, and I know what you might like."

  Andrew and Charley agreed, but Dan shook his head.

  "I'll order for myself," the BPI agent said. "I just want tacos or something simple like that."

  Andrew settled back in his wooden chair. He gave Charley a smile, and she smiled back. Her brown hair looked more lustrous than usual. Did she make herself pretty for me? he wondered.

  Serkan ordered a lot of dishes, and waiters brought them out as they were cooked. Andrew tasted everything and tried to identify it. The meats were mostly seafood such as squid, mussels, and anchovies. He found a chunk of octopus which he pushed politely to the side. Some dishes contained sausages that were far too spicy for him. Garlic, vinegar, and peppers were used liberally, and melted cheese acted as a kind of glue. Sliced, fried potatoes were almost French fries, and he took a double helping.

  Serkan ordered a couple of glasses of wine for himself. Andrew and Charley were too young, and Dan was on duty, so Serkan was the only one drinking alcohol.

  When Serkan looked nice and relaxed, Andrew said, "So how long have you been an apprentice?"

  "Five years," Serkan said. "I'm almost done with the training."

  "What happens when you're done?"

  "I have to pass a test before I can officially call myself a 'sorcerer.' Then I'll find my own seam and
live there."

  "Every sorcerer gets his own seam?" Andrew said.

  "Usually. All the big ones need watching."

  "Why?"

  Serkan glanced at Agent Dan and lowered his voice. "Because sorcerers are drawn to seams like flies to a carcass, and the bigger, the better. Even people who just have latent talent feel the pull. They will start experimenting on their own if nobody is there to stop them. Imagine trying to learn sorcery without any supervision. You'd be eaten by a sprite or trapped in a delusion if you didn't outright blow yourself up. Then there are the renegades."

  "The what?" Andrew said.

  "Sorcerers on the run from the BPI. They're always looking for an unguarded seam."

  "But it would be safer to stay away."

  "Sorcery is like nicotine," Serkan said. "Once you feel the high, you're addicted for life. You can't stay away."

  Andrew furrowed his brow. That kind of life sounded miserable, and he was glad he was on the right side of the law.

  He glanced at Charley and saw her nibbling on the remains of the tapas. She had sampled each dish carefully like a food critic, taking much more time than him to finish her meal.

  Andrew leaned forward. "I have another question," he murmured to Serkan. "What are the different kinds of infernal sorcery?"

  Serkan raised his eyebrows. "Shouldn't you ask Tonya that question?"

  "I'm sure she'll get to that lesson, but I'm curious now. Please, just give me a quick overview. I think it's an important part of my education."

  Serkan sipped from his glass of wine. Charley appeared unhappy but kept quiet. Andrew guessed she wanted to hear the answer, too.

  "I suppose it can't hurt just to list them out," Serkan said in a low voice. "Messing with sprites is called organic sorcery."

  "Tonya showed us a little of that," Andrew said.

  "Already? I didn't get that lesson until after a year. Structural sorcery is the intentional creation of new seams. It usually involves mass murder. Lives must be sacrificed to generate the psychic energy."

  Andrew nodded. He could see how a psychopathic sorcerer might try such a thing.

  "Mind-control is also strictly forbidden," Serkan said. "A skilled sorcerer can impose his will on another. It can happen by accident if one sorcerer is much stronger. Masters have to be careful when teaching apprentices for this reason. Linking is a related form."