Broken Spells

by D. W. Moneypenny

  Peering through the thick foliage that came up to her cheeks, she detected movement to her right and pressed her head against the thicket in that direction, opening up a small hole in the brush. She was inches away from the trail but completely wrapped in a patchwork of vines and branches. Ahead, a buggy rumbled past her, carrying three acolytes, two of them seated and a third standing behind them on a platform or bumper. They continued on the path without turning in her direction. Soon a second, then a third ATV zoomed by, each carrying three acolytes.

  The sound of the motors faded in the distance. However, as Mara attempted to unwind herself from the embrace of the plants, another wave of rumbling emerged from the swamp. Five more vehicles sped by. At first, she stopped struggling, then decided the sounds of the buggies would drown out any noise she made and continued to slip out of her camouflage.

  As she pushed away the vines from her upper body and slipped her feet out of those closer to the ground, a third wave of vehicles—only two this time—passed. She ducked until they were out of sight and then pushed through the branches to step onto the trail. Bits of dirt and debris floated in the air, a gritty fog that billowed after the ATVs disappeared past a bend in the trail.

  After a quick calculation, Mara determined something on the order of thirty acolytes would quickly catch up with her mother, her brother and Ping. Being behind them could give her a tactical advantage, but she still didn’t think a surprise attack would work. Out of more than two dozen magic-wielding acolytes, one of them could likely inflict some damage. And, even if Mara could defeat them, she’d probably be drained, metaphysically or magically, and in no condition to face the Arboretum and to rescue her counterpart. Pixelating or blowing them up was out of the question. Then what?

  She needed to stall the ATVs’ advance. If they never caught up to Ping and the others, there would be no need for a confrontation.

  Another spell?

  She nodded to herself. Another spell.

  In her mind, she mapped out the conditional statement. If the acolytes catch up to Mara and her gang … what? She thought about the pebbles Sam had tossed at her earlier, how she had caused the last one to reverse course and to return to him. Something like that might work.

  She wondered if she could cast the spell if the acolytes weren’t right there with her. If casting a spell was like loading new code into Reality, why would they need to be directly in front of her? Ping didn’t say anything about having to see the thing she would be changing. Time would tell.

  She mulled over the incantation and decided blurting it out worked better than overthinking it. Holding out a hand in the direction the band of acolytes had traveled, she said aloud:

  Acolytes return

  To the start of their journey,

  When they approach us.

  Not sensing anything particularly magical or metaphysical, she lowered her arm, feeling silly and self-conscious, while glancing around to make sure no one else was about. Shrugging, she closed her eyes, visualized Ping’s face and disappeared in a burst of blue light.

  A moment later he bumped into her when she appeared suddenly in his path as he walked on the trail toward the Arboretum.

  Staggering backward, she caught her balance and said, “Oops! Sorry about that. I didn’t realize I would land right in your face like that.”

  Ping smiled. “No problem. I assume everything worked out for Nash.”

  “Yes, he’s on his way to Portland as we speak, but we’ve got another problem to worry about,” Mara said.

  Diana and Sam had stopped walking a few feet away. “What else could have gone wrong? You were only gone a few minutes,” Sam said.

  “A bunch of acolytes are behind us, on their way to the Arboretum, and they’re riding all-terrain vehicles, so they will most likely catch up with us soon,” Mara said.

  “By soon, what do you mean?” Ping asked.

  “I don’t know exactly. Sometime before dark. I would assume they would make it to the Arboretum before then.”

  “That makes sense,” Ping said. “Perhaps we should get off the path and find a place to hide until they pass.”

  “That was my first thought, but I didn’t want to be delayed any more than absolutely necessary, so I popped in to check on them on the way back. About thirty acolytes are on ten buggies, making their way in this direction. Too many to confront conventionally, so I—” Mara’s voice faded.

  “You what?” Diana asked.

  “Well, I think I cast a spell on them. Ping and I have been going over the book while we walked. But I’m not sure it worked. They had already buzzed past me when I said the incantation.”

  Sam laughed. “You cast a spell? That’s totally cool. What did you do to them?”

  “Let’s just keep walking and see if it works when they arrive,” Mara said. “If not, we’ll have a fight on our hands. Whatever happens, the farther along we are, the better.” She waved Sam and Diana ahead, encouraging them to continue the hike.

  “Oh, come on. You can tell us,” Sam said.

  Diana put her arm over his shoulder and pulled him along with her. “Let’s get going, and let Mara consult with Mr. Ping.”

  Mara watched as her mother and brother walked ahead, and then she turned to Ping. “I used a spell to find them in the swamp, and it worked.” They began walking along the trail side by side.

  “Excellent. And what happened when you found them?”

  Mara nodded. “I did a second spell, but there’s no way to know if it worked until they catch up with us.”

  “Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked.

  “Actually I wanted to make sure that something else isn’t in the book that I should know. I’m kicking myself for waiting so long to learn the full range of possibilities with these abilities. Is there something more we should go over before we get to the Arboretum?”

  “It’s unreasonable to blame yourself for lacking knowledge of something to which you have never been exposed. I’ve studied metaphysics for a lifetime, and it would not have occurred to me to use your ability to cast spells. It makes sense now, but we were limited by our experiences with your powers,” he said.

  “I know. I know. But what else am I missing?”

  “The only other major subject area we haven’t touched on is the animation of elements into autonomous creatures.”

  “Isn’t that what I did with the stone last night when I turned it into Sam?” she asked.

  “I suspect that may be different technically.”

  “How so?”

  “It appears you turned the stone into a sentient human being, a real person. Don’t ask me to explain it, but it’s clearly in the realm of progenitor abilities. On the other hand, animation of elements into autonomous creatures is a pretender-level ability—turning the elements of Perception into beings that largely have no will of their own. They essentially do whatever they are designed or commanded to do, nothing more. They are created using spells, the only type of spells that pretenders are able to cast, and do not include the elements of Reality—Time, Space, et cetera—which are the domain of progenitors, such as yourself.”

  “Nash said he and the other acolytes were not allowed to create bowraiths,” Mara said.

  “Not allowed and not able are two different things,” Ping said.

  “True, but I’m not sure I need an herbal goon squad. Like I said earlier, I’m sorta squeamish about creating things that look alive.”

  “Understandable. Consider it another tool in your tool kit, even if you never use it.”

  “All right. Let’s give it a shot tonight after we set up camp.”

  * * *

  The air cooled, and the shadows of the swamp merged into an early twilight. Mara looked skyward and could see only a few gray slivers of sky through the awning of branches overhead. Wondering what time it was, she pulled out her phone to look. The screen was blank. She tapped on it twice. Dead. No signal and no battery power. “What time have you got?” she asked
Ping.

  He glanced at his wrist and said, “Five-thirty. We’ve got about forty minutes of sunlight left, assuming it gets dark about the same time as yesterday. Which is sort of odd, don’t you think?”

  “Why?”

  “When we left our realm, it was December. Sunset occurs there well before five o’clock in the first half of the month,” he said. “Either we arrived here at a different time of year or the tilt of the Earth in relation to the sun is different in this realm. Fascinating. We should ask your mother.”

  “I’m sure she can tell us the month, but I doubt she’ll know anything about the tilt of the—” Mara held up a hand, and Ping stopped walking. A distant rumble—more a vibration than a sound—bounced off the trees around them. “Can you hear that?” she asked as she turned around.

  Without waiting for an answer, she pushed Ping toward the edge of the trail while calling to her mother and brother in a hushed voice. “Hey!”

  They looked back, and Mara waved, indicating she wanted them to move off the trail. Diana took Sam’s arm, and they disappeared in the brush.

  Ping leaned close and whispered, “What should we do?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said. Pointing past the edge of the trail, she said, “Hide here in case things go sideways.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m staying out in the open to draw them in, to see what happens when they approach.”

  Ping was about to argue, when an engine roar shook the air just a few feet away. Mara shoved him into a knot of vines and branches, and stepped into the center of the trail. A moment later, two buggies cleared a curve in the trail and skidded to a stop fifty feet away. A thin cloud of dust billowed in the air and thickened as more vehicles rumbled up behind them.

  Mara couldn’t see if all ten of the vehicles she had seen earlier had arrived, but her attention focused on the robed figures now dismounting the ATVs in front of her. A taller one stepped toward her, holding out a robed arm from which a large hand extended, turned upward with curled fingers, the tips of which emitted bright orange sparks that danced above his palm, coalescing into a flaming orb.

  Well, that doesn’t look good.

  The other acolytes raised their hands likewise. Some conjured similar orange flaming orbs while others appeared to be conjuring dusty whorls of sand or blue vapor. None of them struck Mara as particularly inviting.

  Glancing around for some sign the spell she had cast earlier worked, she saw no clues or indicators. Maybe they needed to be closer for the spell to work. She took a step forward, which the acolytes interpreted as a threat and raised their orb-wielding arms, clearly preparing to fling their creations. Bad move.

  As she walked toward them, she recited the spell in her head. Acolytes return / To the start of their journey / When they approach us.

  The leading acolyte threw his orange ball of fire at her, aiming for her chest. Mara froze for a second, then raised her hand toward the incoming orb. It stalled midair, levitated for several seconds, then disintegrated into a burst of pixels.

  When they approach us.

  Us. Mara didn’t continue forward. Instead, she looked over her shoulder at the spot of brush in which Ping had hidden. “Ping, I think I need you out here.”

  She took several steps backward, all the while keeping her gaze on the acolytes. Several moments later, they looked past her. She turned to see Ping standing in the trail behind her.

  “What can I do to help?” he asked, his voice lowered.

  “In the spell, I said when they approach us. So I figured the acolytes needed to get close to more than one of us in order for the spell to work. Does that make sense to you?” she asked.

  “What matters is what makes sense to you, the conditions you placed on the spell,” he said.

  She continued to step backward until she sidled up to Ping, then he fell in step with her, backing up while giving her a querulous look. After a few steps, he asked, “Do you intend to retreat?”

  “No. I’m trying to get them to approach us. That’s the word I used in the spell. If we approach them, I don’t think it will work,” she said.

  He looked skeptical, glanced at the group of robed figures standing in front of the parked buggies, then said, “Slowly stepping backward and staring at them after demonstrating your ability to deflect those strange orbs isn’t likely to draw them in.”

  Still stepping backward, she noticed the acolytes crept forward but kept their distance. “What would you suggest?”

  “Run!” Ping yelled. He spun around and dashed down the trail.

  Mara sped after him, taking a minute to catch up. Just as she did, an orange orb flew past them and struck a nearby tree, splitting its trunk with a bone-rattling explosion that startled her into stopping. Ping continued as half the stricken tree fell across the trail, directly over his path.

  “Ping!” Mara yelled.

  Skidding to a stop, Ping spun around and looked up just as the tree plunged toward him. His eyes widened, and he reflexively held up an arm, cringing at the mass of wood, leaves and branches hurtling downward. He exploded into a cloud of gray just as the tree landed with a whoosh, bisecting the trail where he had stood. A second thin cloud of dust and debris billowed up from the ground, masking Mara’s view of Ping’s dispersal pattern.

  Glancing around, Mara saw nothing but foliage to her left and right, and the fallen tree blocking her only avenue of escape. She spun around to see the mob of robbed figures running toward her.

  The leading acolyte tossed a sandy orb of spinning grit at her.

  Mara extended her right arm; a bolt of lightning arced from her palm, striking the incoming ball less than ten feet away, setting off a brilliant flash of light and an explosion that spewed bands of stinging grit across the width of the trail, strafing the surrounding plant life, shredding leaves and vines in their wake.

  Mara tensed as another acolyte prepared to launch an orb. Now they were less than twenty feet away. She jutted both arms forward, sending bolts from her palms. Just before the jagged energy struck the approaching line of figures, they disappeared. Not in a flash but in the blink of an eye, as if they had been erased—one frame of Reality’s reel gone in the next.

  Narrowing her eyes and cocking her head, Mara held her breath for a moment, not sure if this was a trick or if the spell—

  “It worked,” Ping said, standing to her right in front of the fallen tree, the last of his gray gritty matter swirling around his frame, still coalescing and reforming his body.

  CHAPTER 24

  Likely the buggy-riding acolytes would return before the evening was over. Plus there was always a chance Mara and the others could be attacked from the opposite direction, so they decided to keep watch overnight, taking turns sleeping and guarding. Diana suggested they only pitch one tent and build one fire, which worked out well because the only clearing they found before it got dark was a small cul-de-sac at the end of a path, branching off the main trail. The space made Mara feel cornered, but their only alternative was to pitch a tent on the trail itself, and that left them even more vulnerable.

  After a quick dinner of hotdogs, they sat around the small fire. Mara positioned herself with her back to the tent, facing the path leading out of the clearing. While scanning the darkness, she tried to calculate how long it would be before the acolytes would return.

  “Stop being paranoid,” Sam said. “We’ll hear their motors long before they get here. Besides, you said the spell worked. Right? You sent them back to the beginning of the trail.”

  “Yes, but they can return in about four hours, and it’s been almost two since they got popped back,” she said.

  “So you’re spending the next few hours fretting about them? What happens if they show up again? Don’t they just get sent back all over again?” he asked.

  “I think so.”

  Ping interjected, “It’s likely they would pass us and continue to the Arboretum, unless they didn’t understand what had occurred earlie
r.”

  “Maybe,” Mara said. She pointed to Ginger the chobodon who paced a few feet away, stopping to sniff and snort occasionally. The animal shivered with tension, at least that was the impression Mara got. “What’s up with her?”

  “We must be getting close to Mara,” Diana said. “Ginger gets all jittery and excited when they’ve been separated and are about to be reunited.”

  “I hope that’s all it is,” Mara said. “You think she can find Mara if we get into the Arboretum? I got the impression from Nash that the building was large.”

  “She’ll point us in the right direction, but Ginger’s not so good with indoor spaces,” Diana said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “She’ll know if Mara is to our left or right, upstairs or downstairs. Ginger’s sense of smell works in a straight line, I guess you could say. However, navigating halls, doors, walls that force her to take roundabout routes to get to where she’s going will frustrate her.”

  “Hmm. Okay. What about your Sam? Did he say anything about sensing Mara during your session last night?” Mara asked.

  Sam leaned forward and stirred the campfire with a stick. “He said he could sense her more strongly since we entered the swamp, but I got the feeling he was confused about something.”

  “Did he say what it was?” Ping asked.

  Sam shook his head. “It was just a feeling he had that I could sense. I wasn’t even aware of it until after the session was over, like it was an afterthought, a reflection.”

  “He might just be confused because of this means of communication,” Diana said. “It’s got to be perplexing speaking through your counterpart this way.”

  “I don’t think that’s it,” Sam said. “Maybe he’s had time to reflect on it as well. We should ask him.”

  “You want to do another séance now?” Mara asked.

  “Not just a séance. We were thinking it would be a good idea if the other Sam stayed with me as we approach the Arboretum and until we get Mara to safety.”