“Are you okay?” I asked, reaching out to help steady her before she could fall into the road.
She nodded and hurried away. I was used to stares from people, but that had been weird. Nikolos and I continued our search for anything out of the ordinary. We spent two hours wandering in and out of stores and the only strange things were the over-the-top reactions from people. Closed-mouthed, annoying people. I was close to bopping heads when Nikolos decided it was time to check on the witch and the necromancer.
When we walked into the hotel room, Dooby sat by the window, mouth slack, eyes glazed.
“What’s with him?” I checked on Elsa before flopping down on the end of the hard-as-nails bed. Wrinkling my nose, I noticed that they’d tried to cover up the old motel smell by burning some incense. The sage earlier should have been enough. This was lavender. I enjoy almost all aspects of nature, but not lavender. I don’t know why. The scent repelled me. I moved closer to Phro, hoping her pineapple would defuse the cloying, flowery scent. I didn’t even bother looking for Fred.
Dooby finally blinked and aimed those incredible eyes at me. “It was supposed to have been burned.”
“Huh?”
He pointed at the book lying open on the small, particle-board desk in the corner. “That book. I can’t believe it’s just here like this. In a cheap motel room. With us.” He gulped. “It’s not the original Key of Solomon—it’s a book that isn’t supposed to exist. It’s without name, but… but…”
When he broke off, I sighed and looked at the witch. “Can you explain without checking out, Blythe?”
She nodded and tried to heft the book, frowned when both Nikolos and Dooby winced and started to reach for it. “I know, handle with care.” She staggered to me and sat down, the book smacking her lap. “The spells in here are like nothing in any spell books we’ve seen. There are a few that I kind of recognize—Dooby, too. But some of these go against everything our training has taught us. There’s a lot more here about your Dweller, only it wasn’t called a Dweller then.”
“Abalam,” Nikolos murmured. He was leaning against the wall across from me.
“We noticed that a part of the inside cover was peeling. Dooby was so upset—it’s a priceless, ancient book, you know.” She paused.
When the silence continued, I guessed she was waiting for me to agree with something I thought obvious. “Blythe, really.”
Sighing, she gently placed her palm on the cover. “Well, Dooby wanted to tape it with something until we could get it to a book restorer. But I, uh, decided to try a little glue spell and accidentally, uh…”
“Caught it on fire,” I finished for her. It was easy to guess with the small black smudges of soot that someone had tried to wipe away. “You know this fire thing is getting out of hand. I really believe you’re supposed to be working with the substance, not against it.”
“Duh,” Dooby spat out.
Blythe pointed her finger at him. “Nothing from you. You make mistakes, too. You accidentally raised Bael, didn’t you? Before the witch’s council even got all the spell preparations together.”
Nikolos came off the wall, body tense. “You ‘accidentally’ raised Bael?”
“What?” Dooby shrugged. “I put him right back.”
“You can’t accidentally raise such a powerful demon.”
Dooby started nodding, his long red hair floating around his face. He really did look feminine with his hair down like that. “I’ve done it before. Remember the clown zombies?”
Phro snorted. “As if clown zombies are on the same level as the super demon.”
I sent her a glare and she shrugged.
“Just tell me about the damned cover,” I said.
“The fire showed us that someone had put a fake cover on this book. They must have wanted it to be treated carefully and that’s why they made it look like the first Key of Solomon. But this book is older.” She turned a few pages. “So we carefully removed the cover and when we did, more pages were set free. They had been a part of the cover—why it was so thick.”
“But I thought all of the oldest spell books had been burned.”
They all three looked at me.
“What? You didn’t think I’d look through magic books to try and figure out why I see dead people and have glowing, stripy hair?”
Nikolos came to us and lifted the book. “There have always been rumors that another book—one older than the Key of Solomon—still existed, but no one has been able to find it. So many versions were banned and burned during the Inquisition and even earlier by Pope Innocent the Sixth.” He easily cradled the hefty thing in one arm then opened it to the first page.
I couldn’t swear to it, but it looked like his fingers were shaking as he ran them down the paper. “Many, including myself, have searched for this book. It could have all the answers. Could tell me why I’m still here.” He looked up to me. “It could tell us what you are.”
My heart pounded harder. Louder. I lifted a hand to my chest. “Let’s translate it then.”
Dooby shook his head. “Real, authentic translation takes time and patience. I want to do it. I have enough money to take a year or so off.”
“A year!” I stood up. “My sister doesn’t have a year!”
Blythe tugged on the end of my T-shirt. “He meant the whole book. We think we’ve found the part about Nikolos’s Dweller. All we need is another day or two.”
My heart stopped. The back of my eyes burned. I walked to the door because I had to get out of there before frustration had me throwing some kind of embarrassing tantrum. We were so close to helping my sister. So close. I looked at them. “She might not have a day or two.”
I walked outside and just kept going until I found a small pond. I sat on the dry, ragged grass beside it, tugged off my boots and socks and put my feet into the water. This little patch was too small and shallow for alligators and frankly, I dared anything to try and nibble on my toes right then. I dug my fingers into the ground until my hands were filled with dirt. In my heart, I knew Elsa didn’t have long.
Nikolos joined me, kneeling beside me and placing a hand on my shoulder. “We can only work as fast as we can. This book is a tremendous discovery. We only knew of its existence through legends. It wasn’t even a part of the Directory for Inquisitors. That’s the—”
“I know what that is.” I closed my eyes. Used two fingers of each hand to rub at the pain throbbing in my temples.
He pulled off my hat, and then tugged the pins from my hair. “I’m not surprised.” He started combing my tangles with his fingers. “You carry a lot of information in that beautiful head of yours. So you know that Nicholas Eymericus, the Dominican Inquisitor read all the magic books before he destroyed them?”
I nodded, loving the way he massaged my scalp. “What an ass, eh? He denounced precious and irreplaceable books but read them all first and then wrote nothing more than a tease. Here is what you could have known. You could have known the means to command any spirit, you could have understood immense and complicated magical systems that we can’t possibly fathom today.”
“I think they exist,” he said. “Granted, people in my day more readily accepted magic, but it’s making a comeback today. People are realizing that it’s not all black. Anyone who looks at the witch in that hotel room would know that for sure.”
“Yeah, she has good written all over her in fluorescent yellow letters.”
“Like you.”
“Yellow’s not my color.” I shook my head and pulled away from him. “But no, I don’t. There is something about me that isn’t good.”
“And what could that be?”
I didn’t know how to explain. I sometimes felt a connection in the other dimensions I peeled into. Something that had called to me—a sort of recognition. It scared the shit out of me.
I stood abruptly and held out my hand to him. “Come on, let’s go back in there. If they’ve translated some of the spell, we could at least be gathering the nee
ded supplies.”
“You’re going to have to explain why you have this fear at some point.”
“But not now.”
He let me pull him to his feet. I knew he didn’t need my help. I just wanted to touch him.
His grin told me he understood. Good, because I planned to touch him a lot more later.
“I need to have a discussion with your witch anyway,” he said.
I scowled. “She’s not mine.”
“She is. She’s your friend, and will remain so if you’ll let her.”
I’d never had friends. The thought nearly made me trip as we walked back toward the hotel room.
“I’m your friend as well.”
I did stop that time to look up at him. We still held hands and I squeezed his. “I’m kind of hoping we’ll be a little more than that.” That is, if I found a way to free those souls around him and keep him alive…
He kissed me, his answer in his eyes.
I settled next to Elsa and watched as Nikolos sat across from Blythe. The motel bed wasn’t the best and it sank low with his weight. He leaned over and took Blythe’s hands in his. “I don’t think you are as incompetent as you’ve been led to believe. Someone has been suppressing your true magic.”
She shook her head.
“They have,” he insisted. “You might be an earth witch, but you’re also a fire mage. In my day, the fire mage was protected, cherished—they could go where no one else could, perform great magic. They were always the first to eat, to receive medical attention. Their health was of the utmost importance.”
Blythe didn’t look in the least convinced.
He smiled. “You’re also a healer. You use herbs, yes, but your magic merges with the herbs. Through you they work to their best ability. But this…” He paused and picked up my knife. “…this is your greatest gift. Forging magical weapons. When I saw this, I was sure about you.”
I flashed back to that wall of knives and tools. “You should see what she has in her shop. Some of the most beautiful iron work I’ve ever seen.”
“Was your mother a fire mage?”
Blythe nodded. “A fire witch.” It looked like she wanted to say more but couldn’t. Her shoulders were so terribly stiff, her small hands in fists, her chest heaving with her fast breaths.
“Then I’d like to know why she allowed your mentor to train you as an earth witch.”
“I believe she’s both, too,” I said.
“But that’s not possible,” Blythe insisted.
I touched her hand. “Why do you keep insisting on that? You work in magic—you’ve seen and learned things at these summits of yours that should have opened your eyes to all the possibilities. If there is one thing I’ve learned over the years it’s not to put this world or anything in it into a box. Always leave your mind open to anything because if you don’t, then you aren’t ready for the surprises. And the surprises can kill you.”
Nikolos handed Blythe the knife. “If you incorporate metal into your spells, it will increase the level of power. Using your handcrafted tools, yes, but there are probably more ways we could explore as well.”
He said we.
I had to turn away because I was sure that if I looked at him in that moment, I’d lose it. It was the first time he’d talked of incorporating us into his life on a longer basis. I’d been thinking along the lines of sex and nothing else. At least for now. I still had to figure out the trapped souls.
“Do you have an anvil? For an altar?”
He was asking Blythe. I faded out of their conversation for a moment as I noticed a new taste on the air. Metallic and blood-tinged—it had a similar feel to the magic of Nikolos’s home but darker… way darker. It crept under my skin instead of exploring it. Pricked sharp and deep instead of caressing. It felt like the dead were calling me, which wasn’t all that unusual, but here, in this stupid swamp, I had a connection to them I didn’t understand. I’d felt this the last time I’d been here. I tried to tell myself this was just a nervous reaction because I’d never handled this area well, but I knew better.
Dooby yanked me back into the conversation when he jumped up and pointed at the book, then at Blythe. “I get it now. I get it! You know what I think this means?” He struggled to lay the book out on the bed, shuffled through a few pages gently, then stuck his finger on a page. “Blythe needs to do a spell that creates a wall of fire.”
“And you’re the best at translating?” The witch rolled her eyes. “I don’t think so.”
We all looked at Blythe.
“It’s not a wall, Dubious.” She pointed one pink-tipped finger at a wide, smoky-looking apparition in what looked to me like a wall of fire. Her little silver pentagram ring flashed. “It’s an elemental.”
The room went silent but I suddenly felt as if I were alone in it, anyway. I wondered if they could hear the rapid pounding of my heart as it threatened to beat right through my chest. I had to close my eyes—anything to stop the increasing tunnel vision that was spinning the room like a carnival ride.
“No.” I didn’t mean to say it so loud.
“It says right here,” Blythe insisted. “This is a fire elemental.”
“Too dangerous. No. No way.”
“But Beri, have you ever heard the phrase about fighting fire with fire?”
I narrowed my eyes at the witch. “Who hasn’t? But elementals are unstable, angry creatures, drunk on their own power.”
“Sounds like you have experience.” Nikolos frowned.
I gave him one sharp nod. “My sister and I ran into one.”
Dooby sat back down next to Blythe. “But if Blythe is indeed a fire witch, she’ll be able to control it.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Weren’t you the one who said no one controls creatures from other worlds?”
“An elemental is trapped by its ties to the element. Earth, fire, water. Someone who has the magic to manipulate their base ground can keep one from going ballistic.”
“I still don’t like this idea.”
Nikolos cleared his throat. “We have to try. My way didn’t work. I didn’t have this book. We didn’t have access to any of these things. I killed the Dweller’s host and it has come back more powerful than before. If it succeeds in breaking through this time, the Christian’s Armageddon will end up reading like a toddler’s fairytale. I fear it’s already opened a rift in the dimensions. Even you mentioned the increased number of magical beings.”
I didn’t want to tell them about the fight Elsa and I had faced against another fire elemental. Didn’t want to tell them what I had done. Cold, black shame cleaved my spine. “Fine. Do whatever you need to. I just want Elsa’s soul back.”
Blythe jumped up and began to pace. “I’ll need mullein leaves. Quickly, too. If I dip them into spring water with saltpeter tonight, I can hang them to dry and they’ll be ready to use tomorrow.”
“I can’t believe you don’t have mullein leaves.” Dooby sneered at her. “They’re only like the most common weed—especially for healing spells, which I remember to be pretty damned important to you.”
“Then we should be able to find them.” I stood. “Where would that be? Nikolos and I need to find a swamp buggy so we have to go out again anyway.”
“Swamp buggy?” Nikolos looked amused.
I nodded. “They look like big open-topped flat boats on monster wheels.” I picked up Dooby’s notebook and pen. “If we don’t find the mullein leaves, is there something else?”
She pursed her lips, her gaze fading out a moment. “A cauldron, aloes wood roots, calamite…I have cinnamon, cloves, ginger, mace… Wait, that spell only works in a closed room. Uh…”
I tried not to sigh too loudly. I really did. “Any others, Blythe?”
“Well, a good cigar might work, but I can’t imagine that being enough.”
Dooby snorted. “Good cigar means just that. Good. Where are you going to find one of those around here?”
I tapped my fingers on my thigh. �
��But if Blythe is this great fire witch, wouldn’t a plain old cigarette work?” Don’t know why I asked. I didn’t even know why they’d brought up a cigar.
“It might. But do you really want to trust that? We should be able to find mullein leaves easily enough.”
“Dooby, do you need anything special to do your summoning spell?” I asked.
“Just my powers of persuasion and charm.” He winked.
“We’re doomed,” Blythe muttered.
Phro, who had been unnaturally quiet for a long time now, snorted. “I like her.” She turned to me. “I don’t see why she can’t just babble some nonsense at it like she did those demons in the hospital.”
“That didn’t work on the next ones, remember? Nikolos said they grow stronger with the Dweller’s power.”
“Who is she talking to?” Dooby whispered, leaning toward Blythe.
“Her spirit guide.”
“Can you see it?”
Blythe nodded. “Shh!”
He looked at Nikolos. “Can you see it?” When Nikolos confirmed, Dooby pouted. “How come I can’t see it? My magic is with the dead. I can see all ghosts and spirit guides.”
Blythe sighed. “Dooby does need something else. Two visited reflectors.”
“Huh?”
Blythe pointed toward the book. “It says we need to gather two visited reflectors. That has to be the mirrors with the soul symbols in them—if we’re right about the souls being taken that way.” She jumped up, clapped her hands, eyes going wide with excitement. “Of course! Have you ever heard the myth about facing two mirrors together? What you see?”
Dooby twirled his hair around his fingers. “Everyone in magic knows that. You will see your preferred deity or the Devil in the infinite number of reflections.” He stopped, made an O shape with his mouth as if he realized something.
Blythe rolled her eyes. “What genius here is getting is right. With the soul symbols, we should be able to reach the Dweller through the reflections. It should be easy to find two mirrors since half the town is down.”
Dweller on the Threshold Page 23
