by Amy Neftzger
“So, how does this work? What are we going to do and why is he here?” Kelsey asked.
Roland explained the plan, and Kelsey relayed it to Maggie to make sure that everyone understood their roles. It would take all three of them – Kelsey, Maggie and the virtual Nicholas – doing their parts to make it all work.
“I’m almost done,” Maggie said with a smile. She stood back and tossed a few grains of power into the mixture and it ignited with a flash. At first, the flame burned very large and bright.
“That doesn’t look right,” Kelsey said with disapproval in her voice. She could smell something sour coming from it and thought that the unpleasant scent might deter the people from following it.
“Give it a minute,” Maggie said.
“It still smells horrible,” Kelsey said after a few seconds had gone by.
“It hasn’t been a minute yet,” Maggie replied with a little impatience in her tone. Kelsey waited and tapped her foot while she covered her nose with one hand. “There!” Maggie exclaimed as the flame settled and the odor dissipated only to be replaced by another.
“What is that smell?” Kelsey said with a hint of distaste in her tone.
“Roses,” Maggie replied. “I thought it could help draw the people.”
“You added a scent to the decoy that’s supposed to look and feel and smell like the other flame?”
“Yes. To make it better,” Maggie said offhandedly.
Kelsey was about to continue arguing when Nicholas interrupted her.
“I’m sure it’s fine. Kelsey, think about it as a signature on an artist’s work. Maggie just had to add something of herself. I don’t think it will hurt the mission, and we don’t have long. We can argue protocol later,” he said.
“I agree,” Roland interjected. “It’s time to put our plan into motion.”
The group began walking toward the main road again, and the flame floated in the air alongside them as they moved along. Somehow Nicholas was carrying the flame and transporting it, even though he wasn’t actually there. There were a few unsteady moments when it appeared as if the flame was stumbling, but the flame never touched the ground and never went out.
“Are you OK, Nicholas?” Maggie asked when the flame suddenly lurched forward.
“I’m fine,” he replied. “This is new for me. I’m still getting the hang of things.”
When they were close enough to the crowd, Roland and Kelsey moved in closer. Roland picked out an older gentleman and tapped him on the shoulder.
“I’m busy,” the man said without looking to see who was trying to get his attention.
“No one is too busy for me,” Roland replied. He tipped his sunglasses ever so slightly forward to reveal part of one eye. As soon as the old man looked at Roland, he screamed, and there was a sudden gap in the crowd as people rushed over to see what was wrong. Kelsey moved swiftly through the temporary gap in the crowd and it closed in around her again as she reached the base of the flame. She quickly pulled out her knife and got to work.
“Hey!” someone shouted at her. “I was here first!” The woman tried to pull Kelsey away, but Kelsey swung out her fist to send her backwards. The woman immediately rushed forward and punched Kelsey in the face, leaving a cut on Kelsey’s cheekbone. Kelsey struggled with the woman, finally pushing her opponent down long enough to strike the base of the flame with her knife. The flame went out completely.
“What the … she killed it!” a man screamed. The crowd went into an uproar and was about to attack Kelsey when they heard Maggie screaming.
“It’s not dead! It’s over there!” a voice shouted, and the people in the crowd looked up to see Maggie’s flame burning almost exactly like the one that had just gone out. “It’s just moved over to where it smells better!” Maggie cried out to encourage them.
Without much thought, the crowd rushed toward the light and began surrounding it, while Maggie deftly slipped away past them to join Kelsey.
“It does smell better over here,” the woman who had punched Kelsey said. The crowd was so distracted by the fragrance that they didn’t notice the flame failed to make them look beautiful. Nicholas slowly moved the flame down the street, and the crowd followed loyally.
The flame floated majestically above the mindless crowd, who followed as if in procession. However, after a few moments, the flame suddenly dropped and tumbled in the air for a few moments, nearly burning a young man in the process. The crowd gasped, and Nicholas managed to raise the flame again and keep it moving. It was difficult work for him, and the flame sometimes faltered a bit, but Nicholas kept it moving away from his friends. He would keep it moving until it died.
“Let’s go,” Kelsey said to Maggie and Roland, and the three of them moved through the street as quickly as they could. After about 10 minutes, they heard the crowd roar with disappointment, and they knew that the flame had gone out. This is when they started to run, putting as much distance between themselves and the crowd as possible.
Kelsey followed Roland, and Maggie followed Kelsey as they made their way down the main road and crossed a bridge into another part of town. The bridge was made of wood, but had two large marble statues on either end. At least, it looked like they were supposed to be statues, but the forms had been so polished that it looked more like the marble had melted smoothly into place. Finally, they stopped in front of a shop, and Roland opened the door.
“We’re going in here?” Kelsey asked. Roland simply nodded and continued walking inside. “I haven't had much luck with these places,” she remarked as she stepped inside. Maggie looked up at the sign over the door. It said:
Memories Unlimited
More memories. More choices.
“What is it?” Maggie asked.
“We’re a Memory Store,” the clerk said happily in response to the question.
“You store memories here?” Maggie asked.
“We buy and sell memories,” the clerk explained, still smiling. She appeared unable to stop. Even when she smiled, she continued to talk. It was almost as if she had two mouths: one that smiled incessantly and one that spoke. “Memories Unlimited. We have more memories than anyone else. That’s why the sign says ‘More memories. More choices.’”
“Cool,” Maggie said, obviously impressed. The store was organized into different rooms, or “salons,” as they were called. The Happy Salon contained all pleasant memories guaranteed to make a person smile. It was decorated as if a birthday cake had exploded all over the walls. There were mismatched ruffles and brightly colored decorations everywhere, and almost no blank space on any of the walls. Wherever there wasn’t a shelf filled with jars of memories there were decorations hanging, even from the ceiling.
“Can I help you find something?” the clerk asked, addressing Roland.
“I’m looking for hope. A memory of a hope-filled dream, to be exact.”
“I may have just the thing,” the clerk replied through her smile. “Follow me.”
She led the way through several rooms and up a spiral staircase. They entered a room that looked like a library, but instead of books on the shelves, there were jars and jars of memories. The very bottoms of the shelves were replaced with three rows of drawers running in a horizontal line across the walls. All of them were tightly closed and appeared very secure with heavy padlocks. Maggie immediately began to wonder what could be so important that it needed to be locked up in such a bizarre place.
“This is our warehouse,” the continually smiling clerk explained as she pushed a tall wooden ladder on wheels that was secured to the top of the shelves on a tracking system. The wheels creaked noisily as they moved along, and Kelsey cringed at the sound.
When she reached the appropriate shelf, the woman climbed up and selected three jars from one of the upper shelves. She nearly lost her balance as she was making her way back down the ladder, and Kelsey ran forward to steady the ladder and prevent the clerk from falling.
However, as Kelsey reached the base of th
e ladder, the drawers along the bottom of the shelf near her began to rapidly open and close in a snapping manner while making a barking sound. The padlocks were useless, as the drawers easily snapped them open with their aggression. Kelsey jumped backwards and away from the dog-like drawers.
“Oh, don’t mind those,” the clerk said as she reached the bottom of the ladder. “It’s an experiment we’re doing by making a hybrid nightmare-memory.”
“Nightmare-memory?” Kelsey asked.
“Yes, it instills the memory of a bad dream into a person. The problem is that nightmares are powerful but at the same time extremely volatile, so we haven’t quite got it right yet,” she said, the smile on her face appearing very odd compared with the solemn tone in which she was speaking. But then she added optimistically, “But we will. We certainly will.”
“Cool,” Maggie said with undisguised admiration.
“Have you ever worked with memories?” the woman asked Maggie after studying her for a moment.
“No. But I think I’d like to. Especially if I could work with something like that.”
“You strike me as someone who might have talent in this area.”
“I do?”
“Yes. I can see by the way you dress that you’re both creative and emotional. People like you tend to do well in this business. You should think about it.”
“Can we please get back to the business at hand?” Kelsey asked, attempting to redirect the conversation.
“She only has one emotion,” Maggie explained to the clerk.
“What’s that?” the clerk enquired politely.
“Killing,” Maggie replied.
Kelsey ignored Maggie and instead stared at the three jars. Each one looked different. The first jar had what appeared to be a blue liquid with little gold stars floating in it. It smelled like vanilla. The second appeared to be growing a small meadow inside of it, and the contents had a very fresh fragrance that reminded Kelsey of cut grass. The third jar had a clear liquid with sparkling confetti swirling around inside of it. It sounded and smelled like the ocean. Small roars of surf could be heard each time Kelsey tipped the jar.
“I like this one,” she said.
“The sound of it nauseates me,” Roland remarked. “You’ll have to carry it.”
“So we can get it?” Kelsey asked with enthusiasm.
“We’ll take all of them,” Roland replied.
“All of them?” Kelsey asked with surprised and then composed herself. “Of course, we’ll take all of them,” she repeated, as if the fact were obvious. Maggie’s blue eyes became very large.
“All of them. Very cool,” Maggie said. Perhaps the clerk would have smiled more at the prospect of making a large sale, but she was already smiling at capacity. Maggie stared at the clerk’s perennial smile and finally asked what had been on her mind. “Do you ever stop smiling?”
“Of course not. Happiness makes a person beautiful,” the clerk explained with a shrug.
“Are you happy that you appear happy all the time?” Maggie asked.
“What’s not to be happy about? I look beautiful all the time.”
“Then I’m happy for you,” Maggie replied as they began walking to the register to ring up the sale.
Roland paid for the memories, and once the jars were wrapped and securely placed inside their backpacks, the group stepped out the door and made their way down the road. Soon they were out of the city through the gate on the opposite side from which they had entered.
Kelsey was glad to be leaving the place behind, but soon after entering the forest, they started to hear howling and yipping noises in the distance.
“Oh, no,” Maggie said with disappointment.
“It’s just the wolves. The howling is sort of a battle cry, but they’re still far away,” Kelsey explained. “That means that we must be getting close.”
“No,” Maggie said as she pointed to something behind them. “They found us again.” Kelsey turned around to see thousands of grim reapers standing in rows like an army ready for battle.
“Holy Angel of Death,” she whispered quietly as she put her hand on her knife.
Chapter
12
Scry and Spy
It had been difficult work, and carrying Maggie’s flame had worn Nicholas out. He was exhausted for the entire next day and, as a result, Moss had given him the day off. Megan visited him to heal his sore muscles, and in the afternoon Nicholas played chess with Newton. The chess pieces were made of dark and white chocolate, and every time Newton captured a piece, he ate it. He even ate a few of his own pieces after Nicholas had captured them, after first asking Nicholas if he was going to eat them.
“What do you do when all the pieces are gone?” Nicholas asked.
“That’s how you know the game is over.”
“It doesn’t work that way in regular chess.”
“This is gargoyle chess.”
“I don’t believe there is such a thing,” Nicholas replied defiantly.
“Well, since you don’t know too many gargoyles, you’ll just have to take my word for it,” Newton replied with a twinkle in his eye.
“You’re very mischievous for someone whose main purpose is to fight evil.”
“Evil and mischief are nowhere near the same thing,” Newton replied as he tossed a dark chocolate rook into his mouth and swallowed it whole. Newton won three games, but Nicholas wasn’t trying very hard to defeat him. He’d had his fill of chocolate halfway through the first game and was simply enjoying the ability to do what he wanted for a change. The next day, however, was another workday.
“Are you ready to get started on your next lesson?” Moss said loudly as he entered the room.
“I don’t need lessons,” Newton replied.
“You know I’m not talking to you,” Moss said. “I gave up on you years ago, anyway. This is an important lesson, so I’ll need you to be quiet. Pretend you’re still a statue like you were when I first met you.” Newton was very adept at giving a lifeless impression, and he immediately dropped into a resting position.
Nicholas studied Moss' pale lavender shirt. One of the sleeves was missing, exposing Moss' skinny but hairy left arm from the shoulder down. Nicholas glanced from the bare arm to Newton, who discretely shook his head. Nicholas decided to ignore the gargoyle’s warning and ask about the sleeve.
“Excuse me, sir, but I believe that one of your sleeves is missing.”
“Your beliefs are of no importance to the lesson.”
“But your sleeve is gone,” Nicholas said pointedly, as he studied the frayed edges where the sleeve had once been connected. Moss glanced down at his exposed limb and then waved the matter away with his hand.
“I just forgot to remove the other sleeve. They had too much attitude and I didn’t want to deal with them today.”
“Attitude?”
“They were hiding something.”
“What?”
“My arms. Sometimes my arms don’t like to be hidden because they have something to say.”
Nicholas watched Moss tear the other sleeve off his shirt. When he did, Nicholas spotted a tattoo that said in a swirling purple script, “Pay attention to your lessons, Nicholas.”
Nicholas jumped when he read his name on Moss' body, but he quickly recovered and decided that he should do what the tattoo was instructing him to do.
“What are we learning today?” Nicholas asked as he tried to focus on something other than Moss' arm.
“We’ll continue scrying,” Moss answered.
“Still? I thought that after helping Kelsey and Maggie that I had proved my abilities.”
“It will be different this time. You’ll be scrying someplace you’ve never been to see someone you’ve never met.”
“Really?” Nicholas thought about what he had learned so far. He knew how to find people he knew or go to places he’d been just by thinking about them. The thought of going someplace he’d never been was a challenge. It sounded interes
ting, but it also sounded difficult. “How do I do that?
“In this case,” Moss explained, “I have a few objects that belonged to the person. This is a bit … unconventional. However, given our current circumstances, it’s also necessary. We’ll use these objects to identify and locate the person. We’ll scry by proxy.”
“Will this person know that we’re watching him?” Nicholas asked and then quickly added, “or her?”
“It’s a ‘him’ and I hope not,” Moss said as he stroked his green beard. “It should be completely safe, since this person has no knowledge of your existence. However, if you feel at all threatened, you may leave immediately. You can stop at any time.”
“Why? Who are we going to watch?”
“The sorcerer.”
“No!” Nicholas shouted. His legs felt very weak at the thought of seeing the person responsible for instigating the war and causing so much trouble. Up until now the sorcerer had only been a story or legend. It was almost as if he wasn’t a real person. “I don’t think I can do it.”
“You can.”
“What if I see his face?” Nicholas said as he felt himself becoming short of breath.
“You won’t be able to see his face — at least not right away. He has enchantments around him that prevent anyone from seeing enough to recognize him. Even people physically in the room with him can’t see his face. He’s very cautious.”
“Why? He doesn’t trust the people around him?”
“Would you, if you were in his position?”
“No, I suppose not.” Nicholas replied after a little thought.
“They don’t even know his name. He’s very good at protecting himself.”
“Have you done this before?” Nicholas asked. “Spied on the sorcerer?”
“It’s scrying, not spying,” Moss said loudly, then added in a softer tone, “and I’ve tried, but I can’t get through the enchantments. But even if I could, it’s too dangerous to have someone the sorcerer has met scrying on him. He could reverse the spell and learn how to watch us, instead.”
