Sorceress (The Cross-Worlds Coven Series Book 4)

by Phil Stern

  “And you, my dear, are a child who knows very little about anything. So please don’t presume to lecture me about matters you couldn’t even begin to understand.”

  Caylee’s eyes narrowed, fingers tapping on her own elbow. “Are you a magical being?”

  “Not entirely, no.”

  “But you do have power?”

  “I suppose. In a manner of speaking.”

  “Is Lysandy your home?”

  “Home isn’t a concept we readily identify with.”

  “This is going nowhere!” Caylee now threw her arms up at the darkened sky. “You’re not telling me anything!”

  “But I am,” the priestess pleasantly replied. “If you had the wits to understand me.”

  “Fine.” Trying her best not to glower, Caylee stiffly looked away. “All I know is that sending people to be hurt, abused, and even killed, isn’t right.”

  “Lord Balen is testing us. That is all.”

  “Why?”

  “To see if we are worthy.”

  At this, Caylee almost groaned. “Worthy of what!”

  “As I said, my dear, you understand very little.”

  “Oh really? Then maybe I should find out for myself!”

  “I would allow that.” Almost as if some formal request had been made, the priestess nodded gravely. “If you feel ready, then you may brave Lord Balen’s storm and confront his underworld.”

  “Fine!” Idly, Caylee wondered if Ayla could actually stop her if permission hadn’t been forthcoming. Somehow, she suspected the priestess could. “But what about my companions? I doubt they could go through that inter-dimensional rip.”

  “They could not,” Ayla confirmed. “But your hawks and horses will be safe here. Indeed, we are honored to have them.”

  Cringing, Caylee hoped that Tornado hadn’t heard himself lumped into the general equine world. “Okay. So I’m guessing that I start by diving into that magical pool?”

  “You would be correct, my dear.”

  “Well? And then what?”

  “Lord Balen will guide you. That is all the information you need.”

  At this, the young sorceress nearly stamped her boot in frustration. “Is it a magical world? Some kind of mixed technology? What?”

  “All I can say is that all these answers await you.” Almost shockingly, Ayla now reached out to straighten the chain upon which Caylee’s earth stone hung. “But know this. The universe, perhaps, isn’t quite so simple a place as you now believe.”

  Stunned at such presumption, Caylee could only watch the village priestess recede once more into the dark, like some ghost that had never really been there at all.

  *****

  Waking well before dawn back in the barn, Caylee cautiously sat up. Pend and her tiger companions were already gone, no doubt out on a morning hunt. Inspecting Lewn’s wing, she noted that the injured battle hawk was even better than yesterday. At this rate, she’d be up and flying around again in no time.

  Gently rousing both Saja and Tornado, the sorceress explained that she would be away and on her own for a bit. Neither equine was happy with this at all, yet Caylee was firm. They could wander into the village and graze in the surrounding fields, but needed to stay out of trouble and sleep here in the barn at night.

  Wide eyed, Tornado seemed particularly worried. Why can’t you take me? he asked. And what if you don’t come back?

  Giving him a big hug, Caylee explained that the young unicorn would be unable to transit the inter-dimensional rift in Balen’s Basion. And anyway, she wasn’t even sure they had openly magical creatures in that other world. Really, she knew virtually nothing. Tornado would just had to wait, that’s all.

  Wait? How long? Plaintive horse eyes blinked at her in the near-dark, his lips quivering.

  “Two, maybe three days.” Bestowing yet another huge squeeze, she reminded Tornado that he’d have Saja and the hawks to keep him company. “You can handle things for that long, can’t you?”

  Frowning, he sourly looked away. Are you sure you can even come back from this place once you go?

  For Tornado, this was a surprisingly practical question. “Look, the villagers here usually make their way back,” she replied. “I’m sure I can manage.”

  But I don’t think…

  “Enough.” Giving him another pat, she then conjured a few croissants, pulled open the barn door, and was on her way. But he didn’t even touch the bakery treats, mournful gaze focused on his sorceress until the door was half-pushed closed again.

  The hike up the gloomy mountain seemed even longer than yesterday. Once more Jarob paced her underneath the forest roof, flying from one branch to another. Finally cresting the long slope some hundred menlars later, she gratefully walked out on the flat, green summit.

  Everything looked as it did just yesterday, the valley sparkling in a raw magical sheen. Walking around the crown until she was directly over the frothing, churning magical pool, she effortlessly dropped down onto the small ledge just above the waterfall. As she suspected, this natural perch easily supported the shock of her fall, the ancient granite hard and immutable.

  The battle hawk soared out into the grand bowl, uneasily watching his sorceress seemingly standing halfway up a sheer mountain face. She’d told Jarob to regularly check back here at least three times a day, looking for her along the banks of the river below. If Caylee came back in the same condition as the villager yesterday, she might well need his help. The battle hawk had steadfastly accepted this directive, a steely glint in his hardened gaze.

  Jarob was also to regularly scout out over the plains, in the same direction from which they’d first traveled across Lysandy. At this point she’d soon be overdue back in Haven, and the Coven might well send someone out to find her. If it came to that, the battle hawk could lead the relief mission straight to the village and, if necessary, up here to Balen’s Bastion.

  Beneath her booted feet, she could feel the rumble of the water pouring from somewhere deep in the geologic formation to cascade out into space. It was almost as if the mountain itself were vibrant and alive, spewing vast amounts of energy out into the world-at-large. A reminder, perhaps, that nature itself was a potent force, channeling vast might at will.

  Caylee wasn’t sure this was how the villagers did things, and right then she didn’t much care. Obviously, the water down below was at the epicenter of the cross-dimensional rift, where the magic of this dimension and the other somehow collided. First tucking her earth stone safely beneath her shirt, the young magician took a deep breath. Eyes closed, she then gauged the slight gust of wind coming in from the right.

  Then, in perfect form, the powerful sorceress drove straight off the tiny ledge down into the pool below, cleanly cutting into the turbulent water and instantly disappearing from sight.

  *****

  Crossing the Boundary into Lysandy exactly one menlar later, Sarina had little difficulty in picking up Caylee’s trail. Putting on a special pair of shaded goggles conjured for this express purpose, Sarina was greeted by a glowing path leading through the grass out into the savanna.

  By the stone, Sarina thought, beginning a mental list of things to chastise Caylee about. Apparently, the neophyte sorceress had forgotten that in a highly natural world like this one, foreign magicians often left a tiny magical residue. A simple spell easily masked one’s own signature, which Caylee either hadn’t known or decided not to bother with.

  There had also been quite a bit mucking around before heading out. Indeed, a male unicorn seemed to have inanely run around in circles for a bit, no doubt attracting all kinds of attention. First impressions were than Caylee’s equine companion was a bit young and rambunctious for a girl’s first independent mission.

  Quickly mounting up, Sarina decided that she didn’t like the look of this place at all. Though outwardly serene, all the heat and magical dust could easily confuse the senses. This kind of landscape also often favored predators, as evidenced by the general lack of lone ani
mals. Everyone who wanted to live obviously hid most of the time, or wandered around in the protection of a strong herd.

  So, unlike her younger Coven-mate, Sarina didn’t hang around the Boundary waiting to be attacked. Sending her two unicorns out to either flank, she’d urged her powerful charger into a fast run. Then, with her three battle hawks scouting out far ahead, she’d simply followed Caylee’s luminescent trail deeper into this alien world.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE BEAUTIFUL YOUNG aristocrat smoothly rose from the huge bed. Languidly stretching slender arms above her head, she then pointedly looked about the opulent bedchamber. Stretching thirty feet out to floor-length windows at the far end, it was filled with luxurious furniture, sumptuous carpeting, and two pieces of nearly priceless artwork. Luckily for the chambermaid, everything was free of dust and exactly in it’s appointed place.

  On the bed stand was a pair of long, delicate, blood-red gloves. Smoothly pulling them on, the fine garments extended almost down to each elbow. Only then, once her hands were safely encased, did Lady Wendily cover her naked body with a thin robe. Idly advancing across the room, she then stood before the imposing windows to thoughtfully stare down at the cobbled Donlon street.

  Even now, at this early hour, a few tradesmen were scurrying about. As she watched, a strong gust of wind blew a cap clean off one of their heads, the old man cursing as he stumbled after it. Tripping over a curb, the weathered commoner landed flat on his face. Rolling about, holding one arm in obvious pain, the now-forgotten cap was allowed to tumble off, unmolested.

  Little people with their little problems, as her mother used to say. Eyes turning a hard silver, Wendily glanced up at the far horizon over the low rooftops.

  Another gust now hit the glass pane where she was standing, rattling softly in the morning light. There was a strange energy in the wind, auguring some new presence entering their world. A powerful figure, perhaps, coming to challenge the status quo? As the nexus of several worlds, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time. Smiling in anticipation, the demon laid light, gloved fingers on the glass itself.

  Behind her, there was a mild stirring on the bed. Turning about, she saw one of last night’s companions sitting up, chiseled muscles starkly visible against the dark headboard. The other seemingly slumbered away, not moving at all.

  “I must go, my lady,” mumbled the first young man. “My wife is expecting me home soon.”

  “Is she indeed?” Casually striding back across the room, Wendily stopped mere feet away. “And why is that?”

  Face falling in disappointment, he took a deep breath. “Uh, well…”

  “Your wife is no concern of mine. Or yours, at the moment.” Pausing, Wendily pulled the cloth belt open, letting her rob casually fall open. “ Is that clear?”

  Not even daring to answer, he mutely nodded.

  “The blacksmith’s son,” Wendily softly announced, now sitting on the bed itself beside him. “What an interesting creature. Why, you actually like playing with iron and fire, don’t you?”

  “It’s not play, my lady.” Trapped by her soft silver gaze, he cautiously nodded. “For work.”

  “Oh, but I like to play much better than work.” Leaning over, she carefully brushed a stray strand of dark hair from his forehead. “It’s much more fun.”

  Sitting quite still, the young man didn’t move a muscle.

  “At least, that’s what I think..” Smiling, Wendily now put a gloved hand on the back of his head, pulling the blacksmith’s son in for a long kiss. Finally drawing back, she let out a long breath. “Now, what do you think?”

  “My lady, I…uh…”

  “You’re not still thinking of that wife of yours, are you?”

  “No! Not at all.” Sitting back, he tried not to shiver in the abnormally cold room. “It’s just that we recently had a child…”

  “Really?” Wendily pulled back the covers, openly studying his naked, inert body. “Congratulations.”

  “And she might need me…”

  “Not another word. I understand completely.” Shrugging, Wendily found herself entranced by his exquisite chest. “We had our fun, and now it’s time to go home.”

  “Yes, my lady.” Holding his breath, the blacksmith nodded. “But I hope I was pleasing to you.”

  “Oh, how could you not be?” Eyes flashing, Wendily thoughtfully pursed her lips.”In fact, let’s do something to mark the experience. Shall we?”

  Exhibiting impossible strength, the slight young beauty shoved the muscled youth back against the headboard. A vice-like grip nearly crushing his face, she then sat on the commoner’s thrashing legs. Helpless, he could barely move.

  Wendily’s lips now ignited into silver fire. Slowly, almost sensuously bending down, she then delicately kissed his perfect chest.

  Screaming in agony, her lover could do nothing as she held the kiss for some moments. When Wendily finally released him, the blacksmith’s son had a perfect image of her full, lush lips branded into his skin.

  “Now get out!” she yelled, leaping up and flinging him bodily against the door. “Go home to your whore and squalling infant, and never let me see you again!”

  After he was gone, Wendily checked on the second man in her bed. As she’d suspected, he was long dead. A neat, round hole burned right through his neck, the man’s lifeless gaze morosely stared off into space. Obviously, she’d gotten a little carried away.

  With a shrug, Wendily called for the butler to clean up the mess. Then, showering and getting dressed, she had her horse drawn carriage called to take her to a ladies luncheon.

  During the short drive, she recalled the odd wind from that morning, suffused with so much raw energy. Smiling, Wendily wondered just who might soon come calling, and how much of a welcome diversion they might ultimately provide.

  *****

  Buffeted about by the powerful underwater currents, Caylee quickly lost all sense of time and direction. At one point she was slammed up against a hard rocky outcropping, in another instance half-driven down into the sandy bottom. Intense magic surged all about, nearly threatening to tear her apart. Limbs flailing, lungs nearly bursting, the experienced inter-dimensional traveler soon found this particular transit between worlds nearly interminable.

  Sometime later, almost at the end of her endurance, the Haven sorceress finally burst from the surface. It was all she could do to woozily tread water, gratefully inhaling large amounts of air.

  Her panic slowly subsiding, Caylee now realized she was in the middle of a small lake underneath an overcast sky. Cultured trees and tended flower beds dotted the nearby banks, almost like some refined city park. Indeed, an austere lady in old-fashioned hooped skirts was peering at her from what seemed to be a cobblestoned lakeside path. A tiny dog strained at it’s thin leash, yapping manically in her direction. At the moment, no one else seemed to be about.

  Though quite fatigued, Caylee realized she needed to keep moving. The old lady didn’t seem threatening, yet also made no move to help. And while spared immediate attack, splashing around in the middle of a lake was needless exposure. Indeed, even now she heard additional voices drifting over from other parts of the park, perhaps indicating the imminent arrival of more people.

  Utilizing a strong breast stroke, she quickly reached the nearby shore, opposite from the old lady. Dragging herself up through the muck and mud, the young witch collapsed on soft grass. Still breathing heavily, she then took more careful stock of the situation.

  It was indeed a city park, of a type one might expect in a prosperous, industrial-age society. There was much ornate ironwork on the nearby benches and lamp posts, though Caylee noted the lamps themselves were of the hand lit, gas variety. Apparently, electricity wasn’t yet in general vogue.

  However, the stonework of the nearby path was precise, the grounds nearly immaculate. Various granite statues adorned the area, obviously produced by skilled craftsmen. In a similar vein, a fine rowboat was pulled up on shore not far from
where she’d landed, constructed of wood with strong metal supporting bands.

  There was nothing comparable on Vail, at least in recent centuries. But based upon the devices collected in Lysandy, and what she’d observed so far in terms of clothes and technology, it all reminded Caylee quite strongly of Victorian London.

  Just a few months ago, while on a courier trip to see Tiffany, she’d actually visited a Victorian-era museum. They’d just ducked over the Boundary together one afternoon, popping up in the British capital to take in the sights. Late 19th-century England, she’s learned, had featured a very class-conscious society. Lords and ladies were born into status and wealth, while a large, poverty-stricken working class struggled to get by. The laws, government, and health care system openly favored the aristocracy, while social services were either non-existent or semi-punitive.

  Yet while the English upper crust had dabbled heavily in mysticism and the occult, no actual magic had been present. Here, of course, in this alien dimension, things could be very different. Heavy dresses and fancy ornaments aside, that was the real variable when traveling the universe.

  Her breathing now slowing to normal, Caylee was comforted by the presence of her earth stone underneath her white shirt. Using a tiny release of invisible magic to dry her sopping clothes, she now carefully stood up on the grass. The old lady still just stood and stared, saying nothing, her dog barking away. It was all getting to be a bit rude.

  Well, so be it. First shaking out long, blonde hair, Caylee then carefully stretched out sore and bruised limbs. Dressed in her sorceress-standard jeans, boots, and white shirt, she felt ready to confront whatever abusive elements obviously inhabited this remote world.

  And she didn’t have long to wait. Almost on cue, two police officers came jogging over a slight rise, blowing on whistles. Indeed, they were dressed almost exactly like the classic English “bobbies” she’d seen at the museum. Frowning, Caylee wondered if there might be some actual cross-dimensional contamination at work.