by Phil Stern
“Yes, indeed.” Pausing, Valensa now conjured her own water. “Our Leader is very, very strong. Even stronger than a Haven witch. No one dares cross her. The rule now is that any midate is directly brought to her, on pain of having your stone taken away and being exiled from the coven.”
“So is that what Sharra planned to do with the midate in Mobile? Just pass it on to your Coven Leader?”
“I guess.”
“You guess? You mean, you aren’t sure?”
Valensa stopped, grabbing Tiffany’s arm. Pulled to a halt as well, the Haven enchantress carefully faced her sister.
“You have to understand, Tiffany, that my coven has discipline. We don’t question our superiors.” There was a strange elation to Valensa’s face, mixed with a calming surety. “We’re told to go to Earth, we go. Sharra was our Deputy Coven Leader. It wasn’t my place to ask her anything.”
“I see.” Surprised, Tiffany sighed. “My Coven has some discipline, sure, but we don’t blindly take orders. In fact, we generally discuss things to death. And just because another woman is my ‘superior’ doesn’t mean we don’t argue sometimes.”
“That’s why you’re weak.” Valensa said it simply, as if an undisputed statement of fact. “That will be your undoing.”
“And do you wish us undone?” Tiffany closely studied her sister. “Are you still my Coven’s enemy?”
“I don’t know.” Looking away, Valensa stared off into space. “Whatever you think of me, Tiffany, I’m not a violent person.”
“Maybe our covens can be friends?” she gently suggested, placing a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “After all, we have each other now, right? Why can’t that be a basis for a peace between us?”
“Well, you’re the ones making war!” Frowning, Valensa stepped back, letting Tiffany’s hand drop away. “You personally killed one of our overseers, didn’t you? On Tethra?”
“Well, yeah.” Tying back her long, dark hair, Tiffany considered how that might look. “But I didn’t know he was, uh, employed by you guys. I didn’t even know that Zarth existed then. I was only following orders…”
“So you do have superiors!” Triumphantly pointing at her, Valensa briskly nodded. “And you do take orders! Just like we do.”
Groaning, Tiffany rubbed her forehead. “Look, it’s different.”
“How?” she demanded. “And aren’t you conceding that you started this war? After all, we didn’t kill your overseers!”
“We don’t have overseers! We don’t try to run worlds like you do!”
“But you’ve destroyed entire civilizations!” she exploded, stamping a foot for good measure. “Our Coven Leader told us so!”
“Destroyed civilizations? Why, that’s…” Trailing off, Tiffany let her eyes drop shut. Arguing out here in the woods would accomplish nothing.
“So you deny it?”
“Yes, I do.” Opening her eyes once more, Tiffany eyed her sister. “But listen, there’s obviously all kinds of misunderstandings here. They need to be straightened out.”
“Fine!” Flouncing off once more, Valensa then stopped and looked back at her. “But that would be a matter for my Coven Leader!”
Just then a soft humming came from the horizon. Peering through the trees, Tiffany saw a large airship just beyond the wood line, drifting slowly through the sky. “What’s that?”
“A patrol blimp.” Casually hiding behind a tree, Valensa looked out at the craft. “It will pass soon.”
Tiffany quickly followed suit. “This world is mid-tech, I take it?”
“Yeah. Late industrial revolution, with dashes of high- and low-tech thrown in for good measure. What would be called steam punk on Earth.”
“And who are those guys?”
“The Confederacy. They control what would be called the southeastern United States on Earth.”
Interesting, Tiffany thought. Parallel universes with similar terms and histories. “On Earth, the Confederacy lost.”
“Yeah, well, welcome to the real world.” Relaxing, Valensa watched the blimp slowly fade off through the trees. “You don’t want to get captured by those guys, trust me.”
“Well, I don’t intend to.” Stepping away from her tree, Tiffany looked around. “Are we close to that contact point?”
“I think so.” Pointing off, Valensa nodded. “We’re almost there.”
“Good.” Briefly, Tiffany stretched her arms up high, then bent down and touched her toes. She heard Valensa magically conjuring something, but just assumed it was another bottle of water. “If I can get out of here undetected, then maybe…” Looking up, she trailed off. “Valensa, what the hell are you doing?”
“Tiffany, don’t move.” Pointing the gun straight at her, the younger Smith sister’s eyes were cold and calculating. “I’ll kill you if I have to. I swear it.”
Shocked, Tiffany watched Valensa touch her stone, sending a ruby pulse out in every direction. It felt slimly as it passed through Tiffany, leaving a rancid taste in her mouth. “I thought we were past this!”
“You thought wrong.” Nearly shaking, Valensa’s finger tightened on the trigger. “Sis!”
It was an old blunderbuss-type gun. How absurd, Tiffany idly thought, to conjure such a thing, when you could create any type of modern gun you wanted. But still, its heavy metal ball could rip through Tiffany before she could raise a magical shield.
“I’m trying to connect with you!” Bitter tears came to Tiffany eyes. By the stone, why was she becoming so emotional? “To make all this right! Don’t you see that?”
“Oh, it’s very right!” Now relaxing, Valensa’s face took on a satisfied glow. “Trust me.”
“Valensa!” Tiffany yelled, taking a half-step forward. “We’re sisters! How can…”
With a mild roar and burst of black smoke, the blunderbuss fired. The heavy ball whistled by Tiffany’s shoulder, embedding itself in the tree trunk behind her. Two splinters of bark tore into the back of Tiffany’s shirt, implanting themselves in her skin.
“Don’t move!” Valensa snarled, orienting the gun once again on Tiffany’s chest. “Trust me, you bitch! That was your last warning.”
Reaching forward with her left hand, it was Valensa who now snatched Tiffany’s necklace away. In her fury, the Zarth witch nearly incinerated the chain, leaving the earth stone within its silver pendant. Grimly stuffing the earth stone in her pocket, she promptly grimaced at the uncomfortable conflict of magical power sources.
“Valensa.” Sadly, Tiffany shook her head. “Is this really the way you want things to be between us?”
“You’re our enemy!” she nearly spat. “You killed two of my Coven-mates right before my eyes! I don’t know where that dog came from, but you’re responsible for him as well.”
“Yes, I am.” Overcoming her own shock, Tiffany fell back on her professional demeanor. Sister or no, she was suddenly in a very bad fix. “And I suggest you just give me back my stone, and we go our own separate ways. Otherwise, it’s going to get very messy.”
Another airship, without any markings, now zoomed out over their position. An instant later, four women impossibly dropped down through the trees, landing unhurt on the ground.
Impossible, of course, unless they were witches. They all had the same hard, unyielding look as the women she’d encountered in Mobile. Zarth foot soldiers, apparently, come to do their coven’s bidding.
As Valensa smirked, two of the newcomers came to stand beside her, with two more taking up position behind Tiffany.
“You’re right. Sis!” Triumphantly nodding, Valensa’s eyes flashed an ugly ruby red. “It’s about to get very messy.”
“Well, if it isn’t Tiffany Smith.” Clearly the leader, a heavyset woman standing to Valensa’s left smiled broadly. In her mid-50's, a scar on one cheek stretched from nose to mouth. “Welcome to Zarth.”
From behind, Tiffany was struck on the head by something heavy and hard. Soon the woods were spinning around in confusion, and then the ent
ire world went dark.
CHAPTER NINE
FOR THE SECOND time in as many hours, Tiffany found herself disoriented and alone, groggily recovering from an unconscious state.
This time, however, the surface she was sprawled upon swayed and bucked, with great propellers unevenly biting into the air on either side. A continuous, muffled roar vaguely matched the gentle throb she’d first detected upon first entering Zarth, though her newfound proximity made it far less pleasant. Rough carpet abraded her skin, contrasting uncomfortably with the soft grass that had so recently caressed Tiffany’s cheek.
Without question, she was now in an artificial environment, being carried aloft within a moving vessel. Yet where they were going, or for how long she’d already been traveling, was unclear.
The one thing she did know was that no one cared much for her comfort. Tiffany had been unceremoniously dumped into an unpressurized environment, as evidenced by the painful fullness in her ears. Indeed, a window had apparently been left open entirely, filling the small passenger space with freezing cold air.
This, however, was nothing compared to the harsh ache thundering forth from the back of Tiffany’s skull. How did that happen? Oh, yes. Memories came flooding back of Valensa pulling the gun, triumphantly announcing her betrayal. Then the other witches had dropped down from an airship, and someone hit her on the back of the head…
Sitting up too quickly, the whole world nearly spun out of control. Desperately slapping a hand to her throat, the enchantress was horrified to find that her earth stone was indeed gone. She’d foolishly dropped her guard, been assaulted and robbed of her power, and was now entirely in the control of the Zarth coven. Bitter self-recrimination flooded Tiffany’s soul, caustically mixing with raw fury for both Valensa and the ruby hoodlums she called sisters.
Sisters, Tiffany bitterly thought. For Valensa had been correct. Though biologically related, they had absolutely nothing in common.
All of Valensa’s juvenile lusting for a fantasy life nefariously denied by her older, richer sibling. Had Tiffany really thought all of that angst could be dispelled with one conversation? That it was nothing more than a simple misunderstanding, to be instantly replaced with the caring, loving bond all sisters shared?
Well, yes, that is what she’d thought. Or more accurately, had desperately wanted to believe. For Tiffany was very susceptible to that sort of thing, often feeling quite guilty about the self-inflicted pain suffered by her family. First her father, who had molested Tiffany and then killed himself. Then her mother, blind to the pain suffered by her only daughter, yet eager to heap more abuse on Tiffany when confronted with her own failures.
And now Valensa, crying and complaining about the life she’d never had. As if Tiffany, as a child herself, had possessed the power to deny or grant her anything.
But what a sentimental fool she’d been! For her perverted quasi-sister had shrewdly used Tiffany’s absurd weakness to cripple her, stealing the Haven witch’s power and freedom.
Sure, when the tables had been turned, she’d temporarily taken Valensa’s ruby stone. But that was never intended to be permanent. The moment Tiffany thought they’d established even a vague rapport, she had immediately returned it. No matter what the result of that conversation, in fact, Tiffany would have given Valensa back her ruby talisman, somehow finding a way back to Earth on her own.
But for Valensa to permanently steal her stone, and then present it, like some kind of trophy, to that awful coven of hers? Such things were unthinkable for any civilized human being.
No one short of a barbarian would try to hobble a sorceress for life, depriving her of magic for longer than absolutely necessary. Even Claire, the turncoat ruby witch stashed in Rasten, had been allowed to keep her stone. Only monsters like Lord Gensrow ripped a stone from a witch’s throat, permanently denying the magical essence flowing throughout her body since early girlhood. It was an awful state in which to live, now powerless and afraid, subject to all the forces valiantly fought against her entire life.
But Gensrow had done that for a specific reason, knowing he wanted to rape and otherwise torture the girls at his mercy. What the Zarth coven had in mind for her remained to be seen.
Laying down on her back once more, Tiffany numbly stared up at an old-style map of Zarth painted on the swaying cabin’s garish ceiling. Though faded and worn, it clearly showed the familiar contours of the North and South American continents on Earth. Here, however, the national boundaries were completely different. The southeastern states were indeed styled the Confederacy, with the northeastern states and up into Canada called New Europa. A country called Texara covered the familiar Texas and well down into Mexico, while something named Vanington comprised what would be Oregon, Washington State, and up into British Columbia on Earth. There were various other nation-states as well, confusing in their form and number.
While forcing herself to get a lay of this new political landscape, Tiffany’s hand slid down to her Coven Stick. It remained in her possession, still in the guise of an innocent belt. Well, at least she’d had sense enough to take that precaution. And Coven Sticks, she now remembered, contained a sliver of earth stone.
Eyes drifting closed, Tiffany delicately extended her sensitivity into the magical weapon itself. For a less experienced sorceress, this would have been hopeless. Coven Sticks were intended to interact with a witch’s own power, not substitute for it. In fact, they’d been specifically designed only to respect and obey someone wearing an earth stone already. Obviously, this was necessary to prevent an activated Coven Stick from falling into the wrong hands. But Tiffany desperately hoped she and the Coven Stick had formed some kind of personal bond, above and beyond just wearing an earth stone.
And indeed, after some gentle probing, Tiffany mentally touched the heart of her Coven Stick. At first it reacted with suspicion, angrily rebuffing her powerless advances. Yet Tiffany grimly persisted, using every trick she’d ever learned to connect with its own innate power. Ten exhausting minutes later she’d established a tenuous link with the tiny magical talisman, it’s green energy tentatively open to her.
Then, still blocking out her surroundings, Tiffany explored how far the connection went. With great effort, she cautiously used the Coven Stick’s power to extend her own magical sensitivity. As suspected, they were on a blimp-type airship, cruising slowly though the sky. There were six girls wearing ruby stones in the next cabin, along with her own earth stone.
Though her heart leapt with joy upon detecting the magical talisman, Tiffany almost immediately suffered an even greater jolt of intense separation angst. Clearly, having the earth stone nearby, yet inaccessible to her, was almost worse than knowing nothing of its fate. But at least they hadn’t destroyed Tiffany’s stone, much like she’d detonated the midate. Two or three Zarth witches, working in concert, might be able to do it.
Ah, but hadn’t Valensa said her coven collected other types of magical stones, trying to combine them with their own ruby power? Good luck with that, Tiffany thought. Earth stones were even more divergent from ruby power than midate. They’d have a better chance of taming a Larian snow cat.
At the thought of the Coven Stick’s most recent active form, she felt a definite stirring from within the weapon itself, its shape-changing magic beginning to gather. Instantly, Tiffany swept any thoughts of snow cats from her mind, instead firmly picturing the belt she was now wearing. With an irritated shudder, the Stick obediently remained as it was around her waist.
Experimentally, Tiffany then pictured a laser rifle, followed by a simple metal shield. The Coven Stick remained inert.
So it seemed that she could hot wire the Coven Stick back into its last active form, but any other functionality required an earth stone. Which raised an intriguing question. Once successfully reanimated into a snow cat again, could she then control her own Coven Stick? Could it even attack her? Well, that might be a chance she’d have to take at some point.
Feeling slightly bett
er, Tiffany opened her eyes. Then, giving the overhead map a final glance, the tall brunette sat up and studied her surroundings in greater detail.
Steam punk it was, she thought. The cabin was full of brass controls and ornate, Victorian-type objects. She was obviously in the forward part of the passenger area, which was a gondola-type thing strapped to the bottom of the airship. Dusty, dirty windows curled around in front and to either side, covering the outer bulkheads. Behind her was a simple wall and wooden door leading back into other compartments. There was a bunch of junk all about. Clearly, these Zarth girls didn’t clean very much.
Slowly standing, the enchantress crossed over to the front of the ship, carefully closing the open window. It was a breathtaking view of this new dimension, with other airships and even a few biplanes in sight. The countryside below was green and generally unbroken, with only a few country lanes for cars. Clearly early mid-tech, though Valensa had suggested there were dashes of high- and low-tech thrown in for good measure. That, of course, was indicative of cross-dem contamination, which could be explained by the direct contact points Zarth shared with Earth.
Earth. The Coven was there in force, she now remembered, preparing to meet the Zarth threat head on. They’d already defeated the ruby contingent sent to recover the midate in Mobile. (Good job, Tiffany.) By now, her sisters would have located at least a few direct contact points with Zarth, which apparently anyone could access.
So Eleanor had seized the initiative, to be sure. Yet the Coven had taken losses. Hazel had either been captured or killed in France, while Isabel had been badly wounded making her escape from Brazil. Tiffany herself was now missing in action, having last been seen pursuing an enemy sorceress into the woods. Who knows what other casualties the Coven had suffered in the meantime?
So at this point, the Coven Leader had a hard choice. Invade Zarth to recover Tiffany and possibly Hazel as well, thus risking even more of her witches in the process.
Or, they could simply find and destroy all the direct contact points, thereby bottling up the ruby coven in their home dimension. In so doing, of course, Eleanor would be abandoning her two missing operatives forever.
