by Phil Stern
“Then I tried to take your boyfriend.” Painfully sitting up, Valensa frowned. “Now you expect me to believe this isn’t merely torture? That instead of just slowly killing me, you’re actually making me into an even more powerful sorceress?”
“That’s correct.”
“Bullshit.” With a tired sigh, Valensa tried to make herself more comfortable. “There’s no way. You know I hate you. Killing me is the only thing that makes sense.”
“Some ruby witch I’d make, huh?” Letting her hands fall down onto her own knees, Tiffany shrugged. “But there it is. Your vengeful, mean, conniving sister is risking everything to save you. At best, my own Coven Leader will be furious when she finds out. Considering how unpopular I am in certain circles right now, the repercussions could be severe. Trust me, just leaving you to your fate would have been far easier.”
Momentarily relaxing, Valensa stared blankly at the far wall. Without question, sorceress and earth stone were acclimating themselves to one another. Soon, Tiffany knew, she would be able to actively control its power.
“But you’re right, sis. Forget my Coven. This could be the worst mistake I’ve ever made.” Leaning forward, Tiffany studied her vapid gaze. “You might just come after me again, more powerful than ever. Your new life could be the end of mine.”
With great effort, Valensa focused on her sister once again. “So why are you doing it?”
“Because I believe, down deep, that you’re a good person,” she quietly replied. “Uniting you with the power in that stone will unlock the real Valensa Smith. The girl I know my sister would be if she had the chance.” Sighing, Tiffany looked away. “If I’m wrong, and you simply turn against me? Well, that’s a chance I’m willing to take. For both of us.”
Lost in their own thoughts, the two magical young women just sat together for nearly five minutes. Finally, Valensa swung her legs over to once again sit on the edge of the bed.
“Okay, for the sake of argument, let’s say you’re telling the truth.” Already, the unremitting anger was receding from Valensa’s voice. “When will I be let out of here?”
“Very soon, I suspect.” Standing, Tiffany took several steps back over to the door, pulling it open. “I’m magically locking your room. When you finally stop fighting your earth stone and embrace its power, you’ll be able to easily unlock it yourself and leave.”
Stunned, Valensa looked over at the earth stone, then back at Tiffany. “And then what?”
“That’s up to you.” Smiling, she leaned against the door jam. “ I know you have a long way to go, but this is the start.”
Taking a deep breath, the tall brunette girl on the bed, so like Tiffany herself, slowly nodded. “I don’t know if I can ever do that. Embrace it’s power, I mean.”
“You will,” Tiffany assured her, crossing out of the room. “Trust me.”
The door now firmly closed behind Tiffany, the lock audibly clicking back into place. Alone once more, Valensa felt the awful tremors beginning anew.
Yet now she found herself willfully glancing at the green stone sitting in the corner. Somehow it didn’t seem quite so ugly. Actually, it was getting difficult to remember why she’d found it so repugnant in the first place. Then, to Valensa’s great surprise, the awful body tremors suddenly went away on their own, leaving her exhausted but relatively calm.
Valensa slowly padded over the wooden floor on swollen aching feet, bending down and picking the earth stone up. Oddly warm to the touch, she instantly found her gaze drawn into it’s vast, comforting depths.
*****
“So you’re just leaving me here?” Shocked, all the usual warmth was gone from Blake’s face. “By myself?”
“For just another day,” she assured him. “I have to shoot down to Philly, where my Coven Leader is going to pick me up. Actually, she thinks I’m there now...”
“Your Coven Leader,” he slowly repeated, letting out a small laugh. “This is all too much.”
“Blake, you have to understand that I have a lot of balls in the air right now.” Running a hand back through her long, dark hair, Tiffany let out a deep sigh. “I just need your help here a little longer.”
“You say Valensa is getting better?” He irritably toed the ground behind the inn with his boot. “As in, she may be a full-fledged witch again pretty soon?”
“That’s right,” she beamed, trying to project a happy, confident aura. “So you don’t have to worry about her dying anymore...”
“And what if she’s in a bad mood when that stone finally smacks her over the head with the right brand of pixie dust?” Rocking back on his heels, Blake let out a tired sigh. “Maybe her first order of business is settling scores with me. Did you ever think of that?”
Actually, he raised a good point. Tiffany was so used to dealing with powerful Coven-mates, accustomed to dangerous, fluid scenarios, that she’d conveniently forgotten her love’s mundane state. “You’re mixing metaphors,” she heard herself saying. “An earth stone doesn’t utilize pixie dust.”
“Yeah, well, the fucking point here is that neither do I.”
Letting her head loll back, the sorceress looked up at the late afternoon autumn sky. She really didn’t think Valensa would harm Blake, but couldn’t be absolutely sure. “I won’t lie to you.” Slowly lowering her gaze, she now laid a hand on Blake’s strong chest. “There’s a risk. A slight one, but a risk nonetheless.”
“That’s kind of what I thought.” Bemused, he contemplated her soft brown eyes. “You’re really beautiful, you know.”
“To quote a very wise man...” she began, letting her other arm circle his waist, “that’s not the fucking point right now.”
“That’s more a paraphrase than an actual quote.”
“Listen, Detective Shakespeare, you’re the most important thing in the world to me.” Smiling, she hugged him close. “There’s risk in everything, but it should be okay.”
“‘Should be okay?’” he laughed. “Some general you’d make.”
“You think you have it bad?” Carefully using only mundane muscles, Tiffany squeezed him as tightly as she could. “Want to know what I’ve been doing the last few days?”
“Lay it on me.”
So she briefly described the Conclave and trip to Peth. Leaving nothing out, she related both the werewolf and crone attacks, concluding with last night’s blowout with Barbara. “So don’t expect me to get all weepy about your tough time chaperoning my juvenile delinquent sister,” she finally concluded, a tear actually escaping her own eye. “It’s been pretty crazy for me too!”
“Wow.” Now holding both of Tiffany hands, Blake leaned down for a kiss on the lips. “That’s some story.”
“Well, as one of my first instructors used to say, magic isn’t all sparkles and happy endings,” she primly replied, reveling in Blake’s own special magic. “Actually, it’s a pretty rough world.”
“Homicidal werewolves, huh? And you say you’ve tangled with them before?”
“Oh yeah. Years ago.”
Frowning, he glanced down at her hip. “Is that where your horrible scar really came from?”
“It is,” she tensely confirmed, awkwardly wiping away the tear. Admitting all her little lies over the past year was a nerve racking process.
“Yeah, somehow falling into farm equipment never made sense.” Raising an eyebrow, he then glanced at the building beside them. “Do you have to leave right away? We do have this whole motel here.”
“It’s a country inn, Blake! There’s a difference.”
“Not to me, there isn’t.” Scooping her up, Blake then carried his giggling girlfriend inside, where they soon found a comfy room on the top floor.
For once Tiffany temporarily removed her earth stone, carefully looping it over the chair containing the rest of her clothes. After all, a lady valued her privacy, especially with a magical half-sister two floors down. And right now, the only magical pulses she wished to send out were for Blake alone.
*****
Climbing into the back of the limo late that afternoon, Tiffany awkwardly fell into a plush seat opposite Eleanor. Grimly eyeing her as the driver shut the door and returned to the front compartment, the Coven Leader then sharply rapped the partition. The luxury vehicle smoothly pulled out into the Philadelphia traffic once more.
“You look fatigued, dear,” the older woman sourly observed. “Didn’t you get a nap in at your apartment?”
“Oh, well, I was pretty keyed up. I decided to do some cleaning instead,” was Tiffany’s lame reply. The Coven Leader, she instantly noticed, was formally attired in an expensive business outfit, her long slacks ending in outrageously priced designer shoes. Inwardly groaning, Tiffany realized her witch-standard jeans, boots, and simple blouse probably weren’t appropriate for the occasion.
Still, racing down from the inn in Blake’s car, Tiffany had made it back to her Philadelphia home with only fifteen minutes to spare. Crafting a new look had been the last of her worries.
“Don’t worry, dear.” As if reading Tiffany’s mind, Eleanor idly studied her own pure gold bracelet. “You look fine. I just like to dress up now and then.”
“Of course.”
“So tell me about Peth,” Eleanor peremptorily ordered. Clearly, she was in full autocrat mode. “Leave nothing out.”
So, just as she’d done with Blake, Tiffany related all that had happened in the alternate dimension. This time she focused much more closely on Barbara’s conduct, including the fake hoverbike salesman and enraged crones. Her own bridge dive and rescue of Solia were also fully covered.
“You did a good job there,” the Coven Leader absently said. “But getting back to Barbara, do you think she even tried to cut a deal with the Pyrons?”
“Not very hard.” This seat was awfully comfortable, Tiffany thought, settling back even more.
Eleanor paused a moment. “Can you elaborate on that a little bit, dear?”
Sure, Tiffany tiredly thought. Your Deputy Coven Leader is a selfish, self-absorbed witch. “Well, um, I think that...”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter! As it stands, the entire Council failed.” Exasperated, Eleanor briefly threw up her arms. “No one made any alliances on our behalf. In some ways, I’d almost find mass disloyalty easier to accept than such widespread incompetence!”
At the mention of outright betrayal, Tiffany again thought of Keri and Barbara huddled close together in the Pyron village circle. She’d happily throw the Deputy Coven Leader under a hundred buses, but did Tiffany really want to impugn her fellow sorceress on such flimsy evidence? Drawing in a deep breath, Tiffany prepared to speak.
But Eleanor beat her to it. “Speaking of treachery, have you heard anything from your sister?”
“Valensa?” Caught off guard, Tiffany blankly shook her head. “Um, no. I don’t think so.”
“That’s too bad. I thought she might have left some message at your apartment since you were last there.” The senior sorceress irritably drummed the armrest. “After all, she must be getting desperate.”
“Oh, yeah. But I really wouldn’t worry...”
“If Valensa contacts you at all, let me know at once. It would be a mistake to tackle her on your own.” Eleanor commanded. “That’s an order.”
“Of course.” With all the self-control at her disposal, Tiffany forced herself to relax. “Out of curiosity, what would we do with Valensa? If we captured her, I mean.”
“Use her as a bargaining chip,” was the prompt reply. “From what I understand, my ruby counterpart thinks she’s even more dangerous than we do. I’m sure Claire would demand Valensa’s return as part of any deal, then just eliminate her. Which frankly, would suit everyone.”
Staring off into space, Tiffany extended her magical sensitivity to the surrounding street. Four Haven witches rode in a car ahead of them, with four more tailing the limo. No doubt a few more were sprinkled along the way to the meet, scouting things out. “Did you know about Valensa?” she carefully asked. “Before, I mean. When she was on Dytha.”
“I knew there was a magical girl there, yes. From our standpoint, she was too old.”
This stark admission of knowledge, and attendant culpability, took Tiffany by surprise. “From our standpoint,” she softly repeated. “Are you saying...”
“I didn’t know she was your sister, if that’s what you’re after.” Focusing her cold, hard gaze on the younger sorceress, Eleanor didn’t flinch. “That was something I learned from you, after dear Valensa nearly killed my best operative in Zarth.”
The disturbingly impersonal tone to this entire conversation suddenly made Tiffany very uneasy. “And what if you had known? That she was my sister, I mean?”
“It would have made no difference.” With a diffident shrug, Eleanor now looked away. “As I said, she was too old. That kind of instability never goes away, as Valensa’s actions themselves can well attest.”
Without warning, the limo now pulled over to the curb once more. To Tiffany’s surprise, Barbara herself now climbed in. Settling down next to Eleanor, the Deputy Coven Leader gave the youthful sorceress a long, hard stare.
“Tiffany,” Barbara coldly began. “I wasn’t aware you would be joining us.”
“I think her presence will be of value.” With a dismissive wave, Eleanor picked up her electronic pad. “Now quiet, both of you. I need to look over the latest intelligence.”
So, as Barbara and Tiffany tried to ignore one another, Eleanor read the report from the girl tasked with watching Tiffany’s apartment earlier that day. Young Ms. Smith had not gone immediately from Haven to her Earth-based abode, as instructed, instead rushing home a mere quarter-hour before Eleanor herself had arrived. Tiffany’s whereabouts for the several hours in between were unaccounted for.
What was going on here? Obviously, Tiffany had just lied to her face about being at her apartment all afternoon. Why? What was she missing here?
Out of the corner of her eye, Eleanor thoughtfully studied the young woman now stiffly sitting in the opposite seat. Someone was a traitor to the Coven, of that Eleanor was sure. Yet even considering Blake, the lies, and all these strange questions about Valensa, Eleanor still couldn’t believe it was Tiffany Smith.
Or Barbara, for that matter. Even with all the recent bad blood between them...including the recent attempt to oust herself entirely from the Coven leadership...she couldn’t believe that of her fellow Elder. Yes, Barbara liked her little secrets and side arrangements. She’d also grown sloppy in recent years, which might help explain her recent failure in Peth. But out and out treason? Not likely.
Something else was at work here, an aspect of all this which had yet to reveal itself. Grimly, the Coven Leader let the pad drop to her lap. Under the circumstances, it was all quite disturbing.
As the huge limo slowly cruised toward the first summit meeting of rival coven leaders, Eleanor calmly considered her two companions. Whatever the truth, she would soon get to the bottom of it. Of that, she was absolutely certain.
*****
Arriving first at the luxury hotel, the three Haven witches confidently strode through the lobby to the private conference room in back. The limo itself pulled back out into traffic, waiting to be recalled. Both the lead and chase cars peeled off to park within supporting distance, the eight operatives inside ready for any trouble that might develop.
Still, Tiffany herself was the closest thing to an immediate bodyguard for her two seniors. Should this entire affair turn into a trap, she’d be in a pretty tough spot.
Settling down along one side of a long conference table, with Eleanor in the middle, they soon watched Claire glide into the room. In some ways it was an unfortunate contrast between the young, vibrant, cosmopolitan ruby leader and the older, staid Haven chieftain. Based on appearances alone, it wasn’t hard to see which side was the rising power block.
Claire’s two companions were a thirty-something, intense sorceress with short brown hair, and a tall, elegant blonde.
A few years younger than Tiffany, this last Zarth witch was clearly a top operative. Power seemed to almost ooze from her large ruby stone, which in turn only emphasized the girl’s supple body and fluid, confident body language. Her intense gaze boring in on Tiffany herself, the stunning young woman’s eyes flashed the merest hint of ruby.
Well, rude behavior wasn’t going to get this girl anywhere, except maybe a punch in the nose when everything was all over. Coolly looking away, Tiffany pointedly inspected a nail.
Directly confronting her Haven counterpart, Claire also sat in the middle on the opposite side of the table. The unknown, older witch took a seat in front of Barbara, with the ruby bodyguard taking a position before Tiffany herself.
“Eleanor, thank you so much for meeting with us,” Claire smoothly began. “Let me introduce Synda, my Deputy Coven Leader, and Adrina, my assistant.”
Following her near death experience at Blake’s cabin in the New York woods, Adrina had been recalled to Philadelphia for this meeting. Initially irked at the distraction from her primary mission, the Leven operative now saw the value of her presence. With any luck she’d be able to track Tiffany from the hotel, perhaps right to Valensa herself.
Without immediately replying, Eleanor merely contemplated the ruby delegation. Obviously this Adrina was the girl who’d visited Tiffany’s apartment yesterday morning, yet her young enchantress didn’t seem to recognize her. However, Adrina was clearly focused on Tiffany, her frustration and anger obvious to all in the room. That was very interesting.
“Yes, we know Adrina,” Eleanor finally said. “I believe she lured two of my girls into some alley, then assaulted them with a magical cat.”
“A misunderstanding,” Synda declared. “Come now, we have no time for trivialities.”
Smiling, Claire placed a restraining hand on Synda’s arm. “Forgive my Deputy. She’s still very new in her position, and perhaps lacks a certain degree of tact.”
“Yes, I understand you offered Tiffany here that very same position.” With an arched eyebrow, Eleanor’s gaze remained steady. “What a shame that she was unable to accept. Of course, sometimes we all have to simply make do with our second choices, don’t we?”
