Sorceress
Page 14
But that didn’t make it any easier. A tear now escaping her own eye, the undercover sorceress turned and almost ran off, soon darting around the far corner of a building.
Gathering herself, back pressed against a brick wall, Caylee solemnly promised that she’d somehow convince the Coven Council to send additional missions here. Perhaps she’d even make Donlon her speciality! True, she was way too junior to be appointed lead sorceress, but maybe one day…
A tattered newspaper now blew up against her leg. Scooping it up and diffidently scanning the front page, the inter-dimensional traveler was unsurprised to see the story of her own arrival here. Yet clearly the local media here took great liberty with the truth, as Caylee was now accused of murdering the two police officers in the park, all while breathing fire and tossing lightning bolts about.
Which was a shame, really. The sorceress had taken great pains to only disable the two men, while not outwardly displaying any wild, mystical talents. So much for self restraint.
If the local press only knew what she was really capable of! Then they’d have a story to write. In a slightly better mood, Caylee tossed the paper aside and continued on her way.
A block away a large, handwritten sign over a dilapidated storefront caught her attention. “Magic Show!” it proclaimed in large block letters. And then, underneath “Every Hour On The Hour!”
Now that was interesting. Pursing her lips, Caylee glanced up at a large, gold-plated street clock on the corner. She wasn’t quite sure of the time scale here, but it seemed like the next show was about to start.
Dashing across the street, she slipped into the shop without a backwards glance.
*****
Twenty-one lords and ladies took their seats around the oblong table in the ornate drawing room. Ranging in age from a mere sixteen to a wizened eighty-one, each carried themself with an absolute self-confidence. All were impeccably dressed, most in brand new suits and dresses. As with Lord Jarton in the park, all of them wore rich red gloves, though the ladies favored an appropriately lacy, feminine style.
The various servants were now summarily dismissed with stern nods, the last ones closing and latching the doors behind them.
“I’m sorry to call you all here on such short notice,” began a sedate woman of fifty near the center of one long side, “but the events of this morning demand our immediate attention.”
“Lady Ingrith, I assume you’re referring to the two dead bobbies?” A curly haired lord in his late-20's leaned back. “While unusual, this sort of thing isn’t unprecedented.”
“Yes, I also fail to understand the import you’re attaching to this episode,” added a sleek, red-haired woman in her mid-30's. “No doubt the police will soon catch this girl before further harm is done.”
“Will they?” Leaning forward slightly, Lady Ingrith’s eyes took on a slightly silver sheen. “Read the description, please.”
There was a mild optical disturbance before each conference participant as a sheet of paper appeared out of thin air on the table before them.
“Who cares what this girl looks like? We all know what the problem is.” Ignoring the provided description, a fat lord sitting next to Ingrith waved an irritated hand about. “The constabulary has gotten sloppy. Lord Jarton was supposed to fix that.”
“It’s a work in progress, Lord Volt.” Sitting near the end of the table, Jarton also made no move to look at the hand-written police report before him. “As you well know.”
“Well, if nothing else, the timing is quite poor.” Sighing, the red-haired woman looked all about. “We have the regatta in a few days, and you all know my Middle Ages Ball is this weekend.”
“Really, Lady Rhapsony?” laughed another lord. “Lot’s of barely dressed men-at-arms and serving wenches, I’d take it?”
“What else are servants for?” she acknowledged. “The sex pit gets going around nine, so don’t be late.”
“Will there be a whipping this year?” asked Volt, a silver gleam now creeping into his eyes. “That was a nice touch.”
“I’ll even let you chain them up first,” Rhapsony purred. “In whatever position you like.”
Ingrith rolled her eyes. “Getting back to business, my Lord, can you please read the description?”
Only now did Volt make a great show of inspecting the paper. “According to a witness,” he read, “the suspect was wearing black boots, ‘low-class’ blue leggings, and a white shirt.”
“And all this talk of fire and lightning bolts aside,” added Jarton, “she also defeated our two men with ease.”
“Yes indeed.” Ingrith pointedly looked around the table. “Does that suggest anything to anybody here?”
An uncomfortable moment went by, most everyone avoiding her gaze.
“The Coven?” Lord Volt’s face instantly became flushed. “You’re suggesting they’ve finally found us?”
“Indeed I am,” Ingrith pleasantly confirmed. “To think otherwise would be foolish.”
“One girl? Why, they say this dander was a teenager!” exclaimed the oldest member of the group. “If the Coven knew where we were, they’d send more than that!”
“Precisely, Lord Karot.” Sitting back, Rhapsony nodded thoughtfully. “This must be a single young witch, out on her own, who just accidently stumbled upon our humble world.”
Ingrith inclined her head in agreement. “It’s possible that her friends in Haven don’t even know where she is, or how she got here.”
“Which means we can still control the situation,” the curly-haired Lord added. “If we can catch and kill this girl before she reports back to the Coven Council, no one will be the wiser.”
“Why kill her, Lord Sathron?” someone else offered. “Wouldn’t an empowered witch be quite useful to us?”
“Useful?” Volt nearly shuddered. “A witch? How would you possibly control her?”
“There are drugs, and hypnosis. With any luck, we could…”
“Please, my lord, there is no way to make this witch your pet!” Sathron interrupted. “We kill her, on sight. Anything else is unthinkable.”
“Yes, we cannot allow this girl to live.” Rhapsony let out a great sigh. “To even suggest otherwise is quite perverse.”
“You’re all jumping to a lot of conclusions here.” A ravishing young woman sitting across from Ingrith glanced around the entire room. Though one of the youngest members of the group, her eyes burned a deep, confident silver. “We don’t yet know that this girl is a witch.”
“Lady Wendily, what else are we to think?” Volt asked, hands now beginning to flutter on the table. “You’ve heard about…”
“She may be of the Coven, she may not.” A small button on Wendily’s wrist suddenly animated into a fearsome, six-inch tall rat. The beautiful demon gently stroked the enraged, snarling creature with a sedate forefinger. “Either way we find this girl and deal with her. That’s all.”
“Deal with her?” Rhapsony frowned, exchanging a quick look with Sathron. “You make it sound so simple.”
Wendily shrugged. “In many ways it is.”
“I’m so glad you agree, my dear.” Pursing her lips, Ingrith paused. “That being said, however, I was hoping you would…”
“Jarton and I will take personal charge of this search,” Wendily softly announced, now dreamily staring into her rat’s chaotic eyes. “Not to worry.”
“But you must be quick!” Volt urged. “If she escapes our grasp…”
“She won’t,” Jarton intoned. “We’ve already blocked off the lakes, so she can’t escape.”
“Yes, all this panic is premature.” A frosty Lord in his early sixties waved an unlit pipe about. “Think about it. We have a very young witch, clumsy and stupid, out exploring the universe. Right now she’s quite pleased with herself, having discovered a new world and all.”
“A world that, at first glance, isn’t threatening to her, either magically and technologically,” Sathron mused. “She can take her time.”
“A day or two, at most,” Volt scoffed. “That’s not much time to scour an entire city!”
“It’s enough.” Kissing her rat on the head, Wendily watched it shrink back into a normal-looking button. “Trust me.”
“And when you do find her, Lady Wendily?” Lord Karot asked. “To be clear, what happens then?”
“We kill her,” Jarton supplied. “Immediately.”
“There’s no other way,” Volt quickly added.
Wendily paused the merest moment. “As you say, my lord,” she coolly allowed. “This witch never escapes Donlon alive.”
Watching her closely, Rhapsony’s eyebrow went up the merest touch.
“Of course we kill her! If nothing else, the earth stone will be quite a prize,” added yet another middle-aged man. “With luck, we could even use it to construct a weapon.”
“Perhaps, Lord Hue,” Ingrith agreed. “But first things first. Wendily and Jarton will find and dispatch this witch. The rest of us will stand by ready to help if necessary. Are we agreed?”
Most everyone gave slight nods, their eyes fluctuating between normal and varying shades of silver. The one lord who’d advocated capture and hypnosis stiffly looked away, but he was clearly the only dissenting view.
“Let me just add, though, that this should be done quietly,” cautioned old Lord Karot. “We’ve all heard the reports of unrest and revolutionary talk.”
“You’re speaking of the young magicians?” Jarton asked. “My people have them under observation.”
“They have petty abilities, nothing more than parlor tricks.” The teenager of the group gave a dismissive laugh. “They’re no threat.”
“But, if they see this Haven girl openly defying us, even for a short time…” Trailing off, Ingrith left this image hanging in the air. “And if this defiance stirs up the population…”
“That cannot happen,” Lord Volt snapped.
“I agree,” Lord Sathron added.
“We will deal with this witch first, trust me.” Leaning forward, Jarton’s eyes burned a deep silver. “There’s no Boundary access in this world. She can’t easily escape. And she won’t.”
The table shaking slightly, the twenty other Lords and Ladies firmly rapped the hard surface in grim agreement.
CHAPTER NINE
BENDING DOWN IN the tall grass, Sarina dispassionately inspected the large predator. About two-days old, the carcass had already been liberally feasted upon by various birds and other local scavengers, now leaving a rotting, indistinct mess. Still, the large frame, thick skull, and powerful claws clearly indicated a fearsome creature, reeking of malevolent magic.
By now the veteran enchantress had been riding hard across the Lysandy savannah for half-a-day. Ten menlars before, when a battle hawk had swooped back to squawk out a warning, she’d girded herself for the worst. Slipping one of her two Coven Sticks from a secure leg pouch, the magical warrior had slowed to an easy canter, soon wandering into the aftermath of what had obviously been a brutal battle.
Yet Caylee’s party had apparently acquitted itself quite well. Though the entire area was strewn with human, unicorn, and battle hawk blood, the only obvious fatalities were the two lizard-type beasts. Continuing her dispassionate examination of the closest one, Sarina now saw a tiny speck of unicorn hide on the tip of a large, slashing claw.
Standing tall once more, the auburn sorceress took a deep breath. Okay, so Caylee gets herself into an unexpected, nasty scrap half-a-day’s ride from the Boundary. No doubt she had injured animals to deal with, was possibly even wounded herself. The question now is where did she go?
Any sane witch on such a marginal mission would have promptly turned around and headed back to the nearest portal. Upon hitting Haven she would file a report designating the dimension a Grade Three Hostile Environment. The Coven Council would then announce that Lysandy was off-limits for sight-seeing, and indeed could only be entered in force. For an openly natural environment, that meant at least three heavily-armed operatives, liberally backed by unicorns and battle hawks.
But Sarina already knew that Caylee hadn’t returned to Haven. Instead, the young idiot had blithely ridden, by herself, even deeper into this magical morass. No doubt the youngster had worried that a sensible retreat might lead some to doubt her courage or resolve. Instead, she’d given her superiors cause to seriously question her judgement.
On a whim, Sairna caused a scrap of dead lizard bone to rise up from the ground, carefully infusing it with earth fire. Hovering before her eyes, the bone began screaming with accumulated energy. This sort of thing took a few moments to do right, and she made a point of evenly saturating the predator’s DNA at a precise molecular level.
Stepping back, black boots now on a spare scrap of unsinged grass, the sorceress gave a final flick with a thumb and forefinger. Like a piece of popcorn, the bone fragment burst apart, forming a glowing green outline of the animal in real life. There, in all it’s malicious glory, stood the massive land dragon.
Wow. As the unicorns uncomfortably pawed the ground some distance off, and nervous battle hawks swooped about, Sarina studied the beast more closely. Frankly, the half-chewed carcass hadn’t done it justice. Imbued with generous lodes of magical energy, this would be an utterly fearsome creature.
Indeed, the “ghost” dragon now rotated it’s head towards the enchantress, letting out a massive, silent roar. Distastefully flicking her fingers again, the monster dissolved once more into nothingness.
Wandering about near the other dead beast, one of the ‘corns gave a triumphant whinny, poking in the tall grass with it’s horn. Impatiently waiting for Sarina to stride over, the uni eagerly slid aside so she could see his find.
Picking up the flat rock, Sarina contemplated the proud initials CPN scorched in it’s surface. Caylee had marked her kill. If there was any lingering uncertainty as to what course of action her younger Coven-mate had undertaken, this left no doubt. Flushed with victory, she’d advanced even deeper into this hostile world. The calling card had been left for the witches following in her wake, should she not return.
Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Sarina tried to imagine how she would have handled things at Caylee’s age. Loath as she was to admit it now, the sorceress realized she might well have made the exact same mistake.
Slipping the Coven Stick back in her side hip pouch (jeans were nice, but special, heavy duty tactical clothes were better), Sarina leapt back up into the saddle. Giving the magical battlefield one final glance, much as Caylee had done three days before, the veteran witch then rode after her wayward sister.
*****
Still posing as a working-class Donlon girl, Caylee entered the cluttered magic shop, carefully closing the door behind her.
Large shelves covered both side walls, haphazardly stacked with musty books, globes, odd hats, little figurines, strange wands, and more. There were also free-standing cases forming aisles down the middle of the large store, similarly laden with other nicknacks. Sparkly symbols hung from the ceiling, sadly twirling about. Directly before Caylee, on an aisle end-cap channeling visitors to either side, was a bulky telescope on which someone had hung a variety of bizarre necklaces. A heavy layer of dust covered most everything.
Overall, one had the impression that the place was overstocked and unorganized, with patrons expected to generally fend for themselves. Indeed, the store “staff” seemed to consist of several animals. One house cat lounged on the floor with another on a side shelf, while an ancient parrot, perched on a stand behind a counter and cash register to the right, tiredly mumbled a greeting.
But before Caylee could even begin initiating proper mental conversation with the shop pets, an old man came stumbling out from the back of the place. Rocking to an uncertain halt, he blinked in mild surprise at the inc
ognito Haven sorceress.
“Good afternoon, dear.” Thoughtfully rubbing his beard, he now smiled a welcome. “You must be here for the magic show.”
Caylee hesitated only a moment. “Yes. Indeed I am.”
“After you, then.” With a grandiose bow, difficult to execute in the confined aisle space before the counter, the man indicated the deeper recesses of the establishment. “We were just about to start.”
Earth stone tucked away beneath her heavy Donlon blouse, Caylee squeezed past him, heading towards the rear of the surprisingly long store. Though virtually everything in the place was useless junk, she actually did sense traces of real magic from a few items. It was all residual, though. Perhaps they had once been handled by someone with a tiny bit of power, or maybe had dropped into this dimension from somewhere else.
However, when nearing a heavy oak door at the rear of the place, she actually did begin to feel a mild sheen of the real thing. Now that was interesting. Pausing to seemingly inspect a sad, wild-eyed rabbit vase on a shelf to one side, the sorceress revved up her earth stone a little bit, holding some power in readiness.
Yet her guide didn’t break strike at all, lumbering past Caylee to knock on the door three times. Hearing no objection, he swung it wide open, bidding her to enter.
As with the store itself, this back room was larger than one would expect, maybe thirty by thirty feet. But for the one door, it was windowless and completely enclosed, with old bricks for walls and ancient beams holding up the ceiling. It was the Donlon version of an unfinished basement, so to speak, yet with some type of natural glow vaguely lighting the center of the room.
About a dozen young people stood about, all working class, mostly along the side walls. In fact, many looked as if they’d just gotten off work, possibly even having rushed to get here in time. Indeed, there was an expectant, strained air about the whole thing, as if they were all about to engage in some kind of exiting, illicit behavior.