by Phil Stern
“Potato chip?” she offered, holding out the bag. “They’re pretty good.”
Almost as if she hadn’t heard, the younger sorceress focused her bitter gaze at the nearby woods. “Don’t ever do that again,” she finally said. “I don’t like to be grabbed and pushed about like some child.”
“Then don’t act like one.” Tiffany now lifted up her other hand. “Here.”
Frowning, Caylee slowly took the proffered Coven Stick, clearly relishing the feeling of suppressed power. “Who’s is it?”
“Yours. Sarina brought an extra for you.” Taking the last chip herself, Tiffany then magically incinerated the bag. “Rather thoughtful of her, wouldn’t you say?”
“Whatever. Just so you know, Sarina doesn’t like you.” Experimentally forming a strong sword, the Coven Stick then quickly morphed into a hand laser, and finally a sparking Gylarian assassin’s needle. “During a training class in Haven, before I went off to Vail, she was pretty critical of your marriage plans.”
“Yeah, well, we’ve been over all that.” Trying to not flinch, Tiffany watched the Coven Stick smoothly flow into a poisonous blue toad, which promptly plopped down in the grass right by her boot. “Those things aren’t toys, you know.”
“Hmm. But they are fun.” Holding out her hand, the snarling toad magically snapped up into Caylee’s waiting palm, where it became a simple greenish iron rod once more. “I could of used one of these a few dozen times in the past several weeks, I’ll tell you that.”
“No doubt.” An especially strong gust blew leaves and twigs across the long grass. Looking up, Tiffany watched a hawk idly circle about, expertly surfing the stiff and swirling winds. “But you’ve done pretty well without one, all the same.”
“You don’t really believe that.” Studying the greenish iron hue of the inert Coven Stick more closely, Caylee then attached the weapon to her belt. “You obviously don’t approve of how I’ve handled myself out here at all.”
“All I’ve heard is bits and pieces so far.” Kicking at a tuft of grass, she briefly hesitated. “It does sound like your full report will make for some interesting reading, though.”
“Oh yes. My first operational report.” Caylee laughed. “It might be my last one, too. They may never let me out of Haven again after this.”
“Oh, come on. It can’t be all that bad.” A fawn emerged from the woods in the growing twilight, staring at Caylee in absolute wonder. Tiffany had almost forgotten the effect her Coven-mate had on any and all animals throughout the universe. “But I do have to ask you about something.”
“What?”
“These ‘friends’ of yours that you were crying and yelling about earlier today.”
“What about them?” Smiling, the younger girl watched a pretty fox lope over from one side, followed by three adorable cubs.
“Did they blow up that building in Highsmith Square?” Tiffany gently asked. “And more importantly, did you help them?”
“Yes. I believe they did,” Caylee admitted. “But no, I didn’t help them. I had absolutely no idea what Peck was going to do.”
“Peck?”
“Our...” Pausing, she almost blushed. “I mean, the leader of the group.”
“I see.” Now Tiffany pointedly studied her. “And was this Peck the one who helped you after the demon assault on board the yacht that you were telling us about?”
“Yes.” Eyes twirling a healthy green hue, she gathered her loose hair into a pony tail. “He was, actually.”
“I see.” Raising an eyebrow, the brunette sorceress watched the curious fox cubs wander right up to Caylee’s boots. “And you became involved with him, I take it?”
“Listen to you,” she groaned. “Involved!”
“Caylee...”
“You’re talking like Eleanor.” Smirking, she bent down to gently stroke a tender fox cub nose. “Maybe you’ve been spending too much time in these Victorian worlds.”
“And maybe you fell in with the wrong crowd.” Tiffany tried to keep any hint of reproach from her voice. “And certainly the wrong guy.”
Instantly stiffening, Caylee’s hand paused mid-fox stroke. Slowly rising once more, the defiant teenager directly faced her older Coven-mate. “Oh, so you’re the only one who gets to make mistakes with men, is that it?”
“I’ve made a few,” she conceded. “But I’ve never...”
“Oh, come on!” Caylee nearly exploded. Alarmed, the fox family dashed off and then spun about, staring at her in shock. “By the stone! You’re getting married!”
Tiffany pulled a blown leaf from her long dark hair. “And that’s a mistake, I take it?”
“Please! I was just fucking a guy! But you’re...”
“The man I’m marrying hasn’t blown up any buildings.” Raising a finger, Tiffany calmly met her eye. “The one you were fucking did.”
Taking a deep breath, Caylee threw out her hands in frustration. “I told you, I wasn’t aware of that!”
“Really?”
“Yes! At least, until it happened!”
“But you were there anyway, weren’t you?” Magically causing a stick to fly up into her outstretched hand, Tiffany examined the brittle bark. “Which means he was simply telling you where to be and when, and you were doing it. Along with the rest of the gang, as I understand it.”
“Tiffany...”
“What if this Peck had asked you to blow up the next building on your own?” Flinging the stick aside, she took a step closer to the younger operative. “Or murder someone from afar? Would you have done that too?”
“No!” Not backing away, Caylee defiantly faced her superior. “How can you even suggest such a thing?”
“How? Because this Peck seems to have completely twisted you around his little finger, that’s how!”
“You just don’t get it!” the young blonde exploded. “I was being hunted by the demons! Peck was fighting the demons! It made sense...”
“Oh, fighting demons, was he?” Standing there, face to face in the growing twilight, Tiffany Smith slowly raised an eyebrow. “In addition to running prostitutes and drugs, I take it?”
Caylee’s features fell into a puzzled frown. “I only found out about that today.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying!”
“Well, what do you know?” Stepping back, Tiffany laughed. In the pastoral evening light, sky now streaked with pink and blue, it sounded almost obscene. “I guess whoring and narcotics don’t make for fun pillow talk, do they?”
“Just stop it! All right?” Eyes tearing up, Caylee glanced up at Donlon’s two fast-rising moons. “I hate you all right now! I really do.”
Several minutes went by, both sorceresses collecting their thoughts. After a moment Caylee began crying, her sobs slowly growing louder. The fox family padded closer once more, concerned noses twitching in the cool air. Finally conjuring a white rag, Tiffany gently pressed it into the younger girl’s hands.
“Look, Caylee, we’ve all been there,” she gently began. “We’ve all royally screwed up and had to have someone else pull our stone out of the fire.”
“Not you,” she miserably mumbled. “You’re Tiffany Smith! Everything comes easily for you.”
Rolling her eyes, the older enchantress put a hand on her arm. “If you only knew.”
“But it’s been so hard!” Almost melting at their physical contact, the teenager burst into tears. “I had no idea how to do any of this! The dragon in Lysandy, and the weird people, and then the demons...”
“Come here.” Pulling her in for a hug, Tiffany let Caylee sob on her shoulder. For some time they just stood there, her misery flowing out in almost palpable waves. Yet rather than mitigating her pain, her distress only grew.
“She was in my mind!” Nearly shrieking, Caylee finally slipped down to one knee. “I couldn’t breathe! I couldn’t think! I was just...”
“I know,” Tiffany breathed, resting a hand on her shoulder. “I can’t even i
magine.”
“Of course not. How could you?” Lifting up her tear-stained face, she angrily waved back at the manor house. “How could any of you?”
Eyes drifting closed, Tiffany simply drank in the younger girl’s anguish. “Come on, Caylee,” she finally said. “Stand up.”
Visibly shaking, she again rose once more. “I don’t know what to do, or what to think...”
“There are people to talk to. Back in Haven. Older women who’ve been through it all.” To her mild surprise, Tiffany noticed the distraught enchantress was nearly her own height. “No one expects you to handle all of this alone.”
“Eleanor does. And Barbara.” Miserably dabbing at her face, she looked for all the world like a scared child. “Sarina too. Her report on all this is really going to fuck me.”
“Look, I’ll handle Sarina.” Stroking her blonde hair, Tiffany glanced all around the darkened, windy landscape once more. “And Eleanor. And Barbara. And anyone else who doesn’t understand what happened here.”
“And that other girl inside?” Another angry glare back at the house. “I don’t even know her name! The fact is I’ve never even seen...”
“I’ve got all that,” Tiffany soothed. “But there’s one thing we have to get straight.”
Eyes whirling a mild green, Caylee sniffled. “What now?”
“At the square today, you were calling these people your friends. Peck and the rest.” Coolly contemplating the younger woman, Tiffany slowly nodded. “You were insisting on helping them.”
“I know.” Kneeling down, she cuddled a fox cub that had finally wandered back and up onto her boot. “That’s how I felt then.”
“And now?” Tiffany persisted. “Are you with us? With your Coven-mates? Or do you still intend to run off and fight for Peck and company?”
Earth stone softly glowing, Caylee pivoted her beautiful face up into the vibrant breeze. “No, I’m fine,” she finally breathed. “I get it.”
The older enchantress didn’t move. “You need to be sure.”
“I am,” she sighed, once more standing tall again. “It’s just that...”
Without warning a loud, magically-tinged pop burst out behind them. Spinning about, defenses raised, Tiffany’s Coven Stick was already humming in her hand.
However, she was just as quickly disarmed by Caylee’s entirely different reaction. “Pend!” the teenager yelled out, nearly knocking Tiffany aside as she scrambled past. Moments later the blonde sorceress was happily rolling around in the tall grass, arms tightly wrapped around a large tiger cub.
Untangling themselves sometime later, Caylee finally made proper introductions. Stroking the cub’s soft nose, Tiffany looked at the huge paws and long tail. “Wow. She’s going to be big.”
“Yeah. You should see her royal guard!” Kissing the tiger on the head, Caylee danced about. “Oh, I’m so happy she’s here!”
“And you say she teleported? Between dimensions?”
“Yup. From Lysandy” Glancing about, Caylee was glad to see the fox family had made a quiet and safe exit. “All the tigers can all do that.”
“Really?” Thoughtfully studying Pend’s proud face, Tiffany then looked at her delighted Coven-mate. “Can they teleport people with them?”
“Um, I don’t know.” Stepping back as Pend playfully reared up to swipe at her blonde hair, Caylee held out her hand. “I never thought of that.” Settling back down into a sitting position, human and tiger communicated telepathically.
“You never thought of that?” Bemused, Tiffany just watched. “Here you’re stuck in this dimension, being chased about by demons, and that never occurred to you that these magical cats might be your ticket out of here?”
“Can you give me a break?” Caylee pleaded, carefully studying Pend as she strolled off and winked out of sight again. “We’re running an experiment now.”
“What kind of experiment?”
“You’ll see.”
Not half-a-menlar later Pend reappeared, accompanied by three other full-sized tigers crouched on the backs of three unicorns.
Utter chaos instantly ensued. Apparently without warning or permission, the tigers had just jumped onto the uni’s backs in Lysandy and teleported between dimensions. Instinctively bucking the big cats off, the normally placid unicorns swung to the attack. One large male tiger barely teleported aside in time to avoid a full thrust to the chest, while another took a painful hoof to the ribs. Pend herself had to leap and dance about, finally hiding behind Caylee’s legs.
Once everyone finally calmed down, Tiffany was nearly bowled over by Tornado. The youthful unicorn wrapped his huge head over her shoulder, hugging for all he was worth. At Caylee’s urging she finally conjured a large box of croissants for the excited equine, who would then only take them from the brunette enchantress herself.
“Oh my,” she laughed, moments before a big unicorn tongue swept across her face. “I almost forgot what a handful he was.”
“You shouldn’t spoil them like that.” Having painfully hobbled out of the house, Sarina gently stroked the nose of a ‘corn who’d accompanied her across Lysandy. “They become impossible if you do.”
“Too late!” Caylee gleefully announced, hugging Tornado’s side. “He’s impossible already.”
Standing off to one side, Jenla merely watched the proceedings. Two of the big cats gave a friendly rub against her legs, yet the sorceress failed to respond. A unicorn fared little better, wandering over for a friendly nuzzle and getting only an indifferent pat for it’s trouble.
“Hey.” Strolling over to join her, Tiffany smiled. “It’s okay to be happy. Tomorrow the cats can get us over to this Lysandy place, where we can access the Boundary. We’re almost home free.”
“Maybe.” Letting out a bitter sigh, Jenla gave a quick shake. “Maybe not.”
Turning back around, the sorceress from the future stiffly strolled across the grass back into the abandoned manor home.
*****
Lady Wendily imperiously strode into the Prime Minister’s office in the main government building in Highsmith Square. Upon word of her approach the PM himself was huddled underneath the desk, quaking uncontrollably.
Generally speaking, the demons preferred to leave official offices to the fully human. Thus, someone else had to deal with all the tiresome bureaucratic minutia while they wielded the real power from behind the scenes. Upon occasion a demon might temporarily step into one position or another (as when Lord Jarton served as city Police Commissioner), but only when things began getting out of hand.
Unlike the general population, however, upper-level minions like the Prime Minister were well aware of who they were dealing with. They also knew the penalty for incompetence or disobedience. This would explain the PM’s current emotional state, along with the pistol he had pressed to his own head.
“Enough,” Wendily announced, looking around the impeccably-appointed chamber with mild distaste. At this late hour the old man actually had several oil lamps merrily burned away, their noxious fumes choking the air. “Get up and come out here.”
Eyes squeezed shut, the old man was unable to pull the trigger. Finally letting out a half-sob, he slowly crawled out and stood up before the large glass windows overlooking Highsmith Square. “Yes, ma’am,” he nearly croaked. “How may I be of service?”
“Hmm.” Making a great show of studying the frosty-haired gentlemen, Wendily gently touched a red-gloved finger to her lips. “You wish to be of service, do you?”
“Yes! Always!”
“I see.” Sauntering around the oversized desk, heels lightly echoing on the fine wooden floor, the fashionable young lady came to stand beside the empire’s titular leader. “And what service do you wish to provide?” she nearly breathed, hand now settling on the old boy’s crotch.
Awkwardly jumping backwards, the PM desperately grabbed at the desk for support. “My Lady, please!”
“You’re not being very fun.” Face settling into an exaggerated po
ut, Wendily advanced another step. “Spoilsport.”
“Do what you must!” Leaning away, an arm now covered his face. “But I beg of you! Make it quick!”
“That’s funny.” Wendily studied him for some moments. “Most men want it to last a long time.”
“Do not jest, my Lady!” Visibly shaking, the PM collapsed against the solid oaken desk. “You have come here to end my life!”
Rolling her eyes, the petite woman grabbed the prime minister by the leg and arm. With little effort she then cast him across the room to land in a stunned heap before the door. “Just go.”
Staggering up once again, the terrified official fixed wild, bloodshot eyes on the demon. “My Lady! I’m...um...not to be killed?”
“No. Not today, anyway.” Settling down behind the desk with a satisfied flourish, Wendily wearily glanced up at him again. “You’re dismissed.”
The relieved Prime Minister promptly fled his own office, loudly banging into a post on the way out.
Brusquely summoning the First Lord of the Royal Army, she asked how the search for yesterday’s “subversives” was going.
The Field Marshal looked troubled. “My Lady, even now the men are searching the surrounding area. But the countryside is vast...”
“Well, keep at it.” A resigned shrug. “No one said it would be easy.”
“Of course. We’ll soon be able to...”
“But I’d like you to split your force. Keep one regiment out there, beating the bushes, but bring the other one into Donlon itself.”
“My Lady?”
“You heard me. I’m declaring martial law here. Now go.” Dismissing him with a curt nod, she then called for the acting Police Commissioner.
Two minutes later the man who’d taken over for Jarton strode it, hat underneath a large, beefy arm. “Yes, ma’am!” he nearly barked out.
“Get a detail together. I’m going on a little field trip to the central jail.”
“At once, ma’am.”
Watching him march out, Wendily lounged back in the sumptuous chair. Feet stretched out, her toe brushed up against something hard and cold underneath the desk.
