Seams in Reality

by Alex Siegel

  "I wish I understood what that meant," Dan said.

  The seam was in the middle of an open field. The grass had been mowed like a giant lawn, and a line of vintage cannons provided decoration. As they passed a gun, Andrew put his arm inside the barrel, and it fit easily. He tried not to imagine what the weapon could do to a man.

  He saw Tonya and a stranger up ahead, and both were carrying flashlights. She was wearing a long black coat which left only her head exposed.

  Her companion had a gray beard, a gray mustache, and tufts of gray hair sticking out from under a leather hat. His clothing was made of heavy, coarse fabric colored a light brown. The style seemed historic.

  "Hello," Tonya said. "Welcome to the Manassas seam. My friend is Richard. He's the third sorcerer on the Sorcerer's Tribunal besides Keene and myself. Richard is a master sorcerer and the owner of this seam. He also runs the visitor's center."

  Andrew looked up at the seam. It was an ugly scar on the flesh of the universe. Raw, angry energy spewed out in irregular bursts. He was almost afraid if he got too close, the seam would eat him alive.

  Richard walked up to Andrew and shined a flashlight at his face. "You have your grandfather's eyes," Richard said, "and his talent."

  "Thank you," Andrew said.

  "It's not necessarily a good thing. Do you know the history of this seam?"

  "No, sir."

  Richard looked up at the seam. "On July 21, 1861, the armies of the North and the South clashed on these fields in the first real battle of the Civil War. Each side engaged about eighteen thousand men. They were poorly equipped, poorly trained, and poorly led. The generals understood the theory but not the practice of war. It was a bitter learning experience for all involved. Almost five thousand casualties later, the South won but mostly because the North was more inept that day. Ironically, the loss mobilized the North and contributed to their eventual victory."

  He took a deep breath and continued, "That's what I tell the tourists, but there is another part of the story. Sorcerers secretly engaged in battle that day. The North brought their two best masters and so did the South, and all were armed with portable seams. It's quite common for sorcerers to be used at the start of a major war. During peacetime, the generals forget that sorcery isn't a military technology. It can't be harnessed like a horse and made to do tricks. It comes from chaos and always leads to chaos. Four sorcerers obliterated themselves on July 21 in a spectacular act of mutual annihilation. Every bystander within a hundred yards also died. This monstrosity is the result."

  The power of the seam was making Andrew a little giddy. He felt like a drug addict taking a hit after a long abstinence. He wanted to create an illusion just for the fun of it, but he held back. Tonya was watching.

  "The Manassas seam has faded considerably in the last century and a half," Richard said. "The initial reports described a throbbing wound which could ruin the mind of an unprepared sorcerer. It is said the seam cast a shadow across the entire continent and made the war much bloodier, but that's just speculation. I do know 625,000 soldiers died over four years, and neither side ever sent another sorcerer into battle. Draw your own conclusions."

  Andrew looked at the dark fields all around. It was easy to imagine them strewn with dead and dying men.

  Richard took a deep breath. "Speaking of ugly business, we have some before us tonight. We might as well get to it."

  "Dan," Tonya said, "go back to the car. This isn't for your eyes."

  "But..." Dan said.

  "Go away!"

  Her voice boomed like thunder, and her hair burst into flame. Andrew knew it was an illusion, but it still startled him.

  Dan ran off.

  Richard gave Andrew and Charley a very serious look.

  "Before I consent to this," Richard said, "I need to make sure both of you understand what's going to happen. Tonya will perform a forensic analysis on your memories. She has to find whatever bits of Serkan are lodged in you. You'll be completely at her mercy and have absolutely no privacy. I'm permitting this infernal act with great reluctance and only because of the extreme circumstances. The decision is ultimately yours though. There is no shame in refusing, none at all."

  "I'll do it," Charley said immediately. "I trust Tonya. I don't care if she learns all my secrets."

  Richard looked at Andrew. "What about you?"

  Andrew grimaced.

  "I'm not hearing a 'yes'."

  Charley gave Andrew a dirty look.

  "I have some secrets I don't want to share," Andrew admitted, "but I understand finding the truth is important. A lot of people were killed, and Keene is in trouble. I don't know what to do."

  Tonya gave him a speculative look. His face grew warm, and he turned away.

  "Tell you what," she said. "I'll start with Charley. Maybe I'll find what I need in her."

  Andrew breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks."

  "Charley, lay directly under the seam. Relax. Get comfortable."

  Charley walked forward a few paces and laid down in the grass. Tonya knelt next to Charley's head.

  "Now count backwards from ten," Tonya said.

  Charley counted, "Ten... nine..."

  Tonya's energy suddenly flared up to an enormous level. A black whirlwind of power surrounded her, and Andrew stepped back, intimidated. Charley's mouth froze in mid-count. Richard looked on with a sour expression.

  Andrew couldn't tell what was happening, but he could see the unpleasant effect on Charley. She was gasping and twitching as if she were having a seizure. The torment went on for quite a while until Andrew became tempted to say something. It certainly looked like some kind of torture.

  Tonya finally stood up. "I got something," she said.

  Released from the spell, Charley immediately began to cry. She sobbed like her best friend had just died. Andrew dropped to his knees and cradled her in his arms.

  "Are you OK?" he said softly.

  She shook her head. "That was awful!"

  "It's over now." He stroked her hair.

  She sat up and wrapped her arms around his chest. He felt wetness on his shoulder as she continued to cry. He returned the hug and held her tight.

  "What did you get?" Richard said calmly.

  "Serkan was under an external influence," Tonya said.

  "Mind-control?"

  "Yes, and the corruption went deep. It was the work of an expert. Unfortunately, I couldn't figure out who was responsible. I need more."

  She and Richard looked at Andrew.

  Charley hadn't settled down, and her distress made him even less certain he wanted to participate. He looked away, unable to meet the gazes of the master sorcerers.

  "Andrew," Richard said softly, "a great number of men died on this battlefield. Many were as young as you, and they also had a difficult decision to make. They could fight, or they could flee as cowards. Hundreds fled, but it was a decision that marked them for the rest of their lives. What kind of man are you? What kind of sorcerer do you want to be? What legacy will you leave behind? Nobody but you can answer those questions."

  Andrew felt crushing pressure. "It sounds like you want me to say 'yes'."

  "I want you to make a decision you won't regret."

  He squeezed his eyes shut. "If you put it that way, I guess I don't have much choice. I'll do it."

  "You're sure?" Richard said.

  "Yes, damn it. Get it over with before I change my mind."

  Andrew let go of Charley and laid down in the soft grass. He stared up at the seam floating in the air. Jets of raw, chaotic energy shot out, and to a sorcerer, it was the sweetest kind of power, but the deadly danger was all too obvious.

  Tonya knelt beside him. "Count backwards..."

  "Just do it!"

  Andrew was suddenly a baby in a crib. It was a memory pulled from deep inside his mind. The world was complicated and confusing, but he loved his parents and they loved him. Nothing else mattered.

  He jumped forward a few years. Now he
was three and playing in the yard behind his house. His mother was reading a book on the porch. A ladybug on a flower fascinated him, and he reached out to touch it.

  Another woman arrived. Andrew recognized her as a younger version of Tonya, but at the time, he hadn't known her. She came over and touched his forehead.

  You visited me when I was a toddler? Andrew thought.

  I've been watching you for a long time, Tonya replied.

  He jumped to other memories. She was running through his mind like she was searching for a file in a computer. The loss of control was a horrible feeling. He had become a helpless victim of her relentless curiosity.

  Some memories were good such as the time his team had won the county little league tournament. He remembered the first time he had kissed a girl. One day he had brought home a report card with straight A's, and his parents had taken him to the most expensive restaurant in town.

  Tonya didn't flinch from the ugly memories. Andrew was forced to relive the death of his beloved pet dog. There was the night he threw a rotten egg through a neighbor's window and the police came. He remembered stealing a tin of chewing tobacco and trying it. He had thrown up his dinner.

  The most surprising memories weren't his own and had come from the banshee. Serkan had visited the town of Aksu in Turkey as a teenager, and Andrew remembered hiking in the mountains nearby. He recalled taking French lessons from a private tutor in a penthouse apartment, but he didn't know what life that memory belonged to.

  Tonya focused on a specific memory from Serkan. He had just bowled a few games with Andrew and Charley. The younger apprentices went home while Serkan remained in the alley for a while longer.

  An unexpected source of energy caught his attention. A small seam was behind the bowling alley, and it hadn't been there earlier. He cautiously left the building and walked around to investigate. He was alert for trouble, but he didn't sense another sorcerer in the area.

  A lone car was parked behind the bowling alley. A giant green gem was sitting on the hood, and as Serkan approached, he could tell it was the source of energy. Apparently, somebody had left it behind.

  He looked around but didn't see a soul. It was hard to imagine anybody abandoning a gem of such enormous value much less a priceless portable seam. The treasure was literally worth killing over.

  A man stood up abruptly from behind the car. A psychic assault overwhelmed Serkan in an instant, and he realized a master sorcerer had ambushed him. The fight was already lost. He was no longer in control of his own mind.

  It was Blake. That treacherous asshole was responsible for everything.

  Reliving that attack triggered a defensive reflex in Andrew. He instinctively protected himself even though it was just a memory.

  He was suddenly inside a giant fortress. Walls of impossible height and thickness protected him on all sides. The blocks were made of clocks and multiplication tables compressed together to form an impervious barrier. The peace and quiet were absolute.

  "This is unexpected," Tonya said.

  Andrew turned and found her standing beside him. Silky white robes covered everything but her head. Her eyes had no pupils.

  "I recognize this place," he said. "I came here when I fought the banshee."

  She turned her head. "It seems I'm trapped here with you. I can't get out."

  "I thought you were in control."

  "I'm supposed to be. A mere apprentice shouldn't be able to lay such a potent psychic snare for a master."

  "What does it mean?" Andrew said.

  "We'll discuss that later, but right now, I need you to release me. You're hurting me."

  "I am?"

  "Yes," Tonya said. "This is very bad. Unclench your mind. Have pleasant, relaxing thoughts, please."

  Andrew was still trying to get over the attack on Serkan. Memories of pain and horror were as clear as if they had happened yesterday. Andrew was far too angry to have a pleasant thought.

  Tonya's face was melting before his eyes. He realized she really was in trouble.

  "Hurry," she said calmly.

  He thought about the first time he had met Charley. It had happened during his audition for Death of a Salesman. She had sat in the first row and had watched him with great interest. Her enchanting beauty had made it hard to focus on his performance. Ever since, he had looked for every possible excuse to spend time with her.

  Andrew opened his eyes. He was back in the present day lying on the grass at night. The Manassas seam floated directly above him.

  Tonya stood up and staggered off. She was having trouble keeping her balance.

  Richard watched her go. "What's wrong with her?"

  "We had a rough experience," Andrew said. "She can explain it better than me. I don't really understand what happened actually. We'd better give her a minute."

  He felt fine, but Charley was still upset. He put his arms around her again. Holding her tight felt so good, he never wanted to let her go.

  After a few minutes, Tonya came back. Seeing her face in the darkness was difficult, but it appeared she had been crying.

  "It was Blake," she said in a voice that oozed rage. "He had a portable seam, a very large, square emerald. He ambushed Serkan."

  Richard raised his eyebrows. "Sounds like the Russian Eye, but it was lost decades ago."

  "Not lost, just hidden, apparently."

  "But what was his motivation?"

  "Revenge against Keene," Tonya said. "He's part of the Tribunal that sentenced Blake to prison. Keene was a hair's breadth from suffering the same fate."

  "We're also members of the Tribunal."

  "Which means we're next on Blake's list."

  Richard furrowed his brow. "We need to have a formal hearing immediately."

  "I'll call Frank Webster," Tonya said. "Andrew, Charley, get up. We have to go."

  Charley needed Andrew's help to get on her feet. He wondered why he hadn't been affected the same way. Somehow, he had protected himself. Maybe he had kept his secret safe after all.

  "What did the fortress mean?" he asked Tonya.

  She shook her head. "Not now. Later."

  All four sorcerers started walking towards the visitor's center. Tonya had a short conversation with Director Webster on the phone.

  After she hung up, she said, "He's gathering the full Tribunal. They'll be waiting for us at headquarters."

  "Will he have Blake arrested?" Andrew said.

  "Not yet. The portable seam in his possession makes him exceptionally dangerous. The BPI will make its move when they're ready. If the Tribunal decides he should be killed, there won't be any arrest. A sniper will take him out from a safe distance without any warning, and it will happen tonight."

  He gulped. "But why did he join us on the investigation?"

  "To make sure it reached the conclusion he wanted it to. He nudged us down a certain path in the guise of being helpful. I hope you learned a lesson from this mess. Never trust appearances."

  They went around the white visitor's center to the parking lot on the other side. They approached the black limousine.

  "Andrew," Tonya said, "give me the book." Her eyes flashed with anger.

  Andrew winced. He had hoped she had missed that memory, but apparently, he wasn't that lucky.

  "It's in my luggage," he said quietly.

  The BPI agents seated inside the limousine got out. One of them opened the trunk, and Andrew pulled out his bag. He dug through the contents until he found True History of Sorcery. He handed the book to Tonya without meeting her gaze.

  She shined her flashlight on the cover. "Interesting."

  "Where did that book come from?" Charley said.

  "John Crawford's safe. It was supposed to go to the vault, but Andrew filched it. This is what he was hiding from me."

  Charley stared at Andrew with wide eyes.

  "It's about our history," he said in an apologetic tone. "I didn't see the harm in taking a look."

  She raised her eyebrows.

/>   "We will discuss this matter at another time," Tonya said. "I need to think about it. At least you made the right choice in the end."

  She stuffed the book into one of her coat pockets, and Andrew was sorry to lose it. He wondered what his punishment would be, and he didn't really understand why he should be punished at all. It was just a history book.

  "Let's go," she added.

  Chapter Twenty

  Blake drove up to a small but otherwise nice house made of yellow bricks. It was in a suburban neighborhood, and the narrow streets were empty so late at night.

  He parked, but before he exposed himself, he checked for witnesses. He used his outer and inner eyes to carefully survey the area. When he was sure nobody was looking, he got out of the car.

  He hurried up to the front door and rang the doorbell several times.

  After a minute, Sandy answered the door. His promoter was wearing a red nightgown, and her red hair needed to be brushed. A lack of makeup exposed the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth.

  "Blake?" Her eyes widened. "What are you doing here? I was trying to go to sleep."

  "Sorry about that," Blake said. "I needed to visit, and it couldn't wait."

  "Why didn't you call?"

  "Your phone is probably bugged. I'll get right to the point. You've been a loyal friend and ally for several years, and I really appreciate that. A guy like me has a hard time making and keeping friends. I need you to do one last favor for me."

  He took the Russian Eye out of his pocket and showed the emerald to Sandy.

  Her eyes widened. "Is that real?"

  "Yes." Blake tapped into the power of the tiny seam trapped in the crystal. "You have to die. You know too much about my operation. Get dressed, drink a few beers, and drive into a bridge abutment at high speed. Eighty miles per hour should produce a quick, painless death, but just to be sure, don't buckle your seatbelt. Understand?"

  Sandy nodded dumbly.

  "Great. I have to run. It was nice knowing you. Thanks again for everything you've done."

  He jogged back to his car.

  * * *

  Andrew looked out the car window at Washington, D.C.. He had hoped to see familiar landmarks, but the limousine had passed through suburban neighborhoods instead. The homes and small office buildings looked the same as all the other cities he had visited. The darkness made the scenery even less exciting.