“That is freaking weird, Smoke.”
“Cast a spell, girl. Come back in twenty years. I’ll bet you that the spell will still be running and you abso – bloody – lutely will not be using the same freaking computer!”
“It’s not the same,” shouted Amber. “You can’t compare computing and magic. It’s like comparing apples and oranges.”
“It is the same. If you’d open your mind you’d see it. You use computers to perform functions, you use magic just the same way … if you have a brain in your head you do not ignore what the best tool is for a job … or have you given up carrying a pen in your bag for those occasions when you have to write something down? You use magic when magic is needed, which is now. Use computers on those rare occasions you can’t use something else.”
Amber scowled at him and came to her feet to do her own share of pacing the room. After a while she turned back to him.
“Modern technology is the only trustworthy …”
Smoke’s shoulders sank down and he patted her hand.
“Amber, lass, that’s not what you think. That’s your father’s opinion. You know magic is real. If your dad loves you, you shouldn’t have to pretend to be something you’re not to keep his love.”
“This is not about love,” lied Amber.
No. It was about fear. The soul wrenching primitive fear of a child. She pressed one hand to her forehead. Magic was the one and only thing that would take her father’s love from her. She knew it. Smoke knew it. Aunt Lucinda, bless her heart, wherever she was, knew it. Which was why she’d arranged for Amber’s magical education to take place long distance and only as much as Amber was willing to receive … until recently. And what her dad didn’t know didn’t cause screams loud enough to raise the ceiling.
“Is it a crime not to want to test that?” she said after a pause.
“In this case, yes. It’s not just magic, it’s every parent. He can’t live your life. Time comes when all kids go off and make their own choices, live their own lives. You gotta make your choice, girl. You’ve got the magic in you and this is where your responsibilities lie.”
“It’s easy enough, Smoke, since I’ve already chosen. I’m not doing what Dad wants, in case it’s escaped your notice; he’s as pissed at me as you are. If I was doing what he wanted I’d be on the PhD career path at some university heading toward a life of teaching esoteric math. Instead I’m a computer software engineer and good at it. Very good. But,” she caught the look in her cousin’s eye. “I’m here now and I’ll stay until Aunt Lucinda comes back. This doesn’t mean I’m accepting the guardianship. You can put that scroll away. Not until we know for certain that … that Lucinda isn’t coming back. I’ll stay until she does.”
“Stay? You aren’t here to visit. This isn’t a social call,” shouted Smoke. “Or have you forgotten the small problem of the Giant Monsters?”
Amber winced, then straightened her spine, giving Smoke a suspicious glare.
“How, exactly, did you find out about these alleged monsters?”
“What do you mean, ‘‘alleged’’?”
“Come on, Smoke. You’ve got to admit, it is kind of convenient a Giant Monster emergency occurring just in time for me to be dragged into the family business.”
“The hell with you, girl. What do you think of us? That we’ve got no other problems but your intransigence? Damn you. If we had any other choice …”
“But you don’t.”
“Yes,” his grin was feral. “Exactly. We have no choice and neither do you.”
“Let me prove you wrong, old man.”
Smoke sank into a Judo crouch. “Bring it, little girl!”
Before Amber could respond another item descended from the ceiling. Both Amber and Smoke crossed to examine the latest offering.
“NOW magazine,” murmured Amber.
“We don’t subscribe,” said Smoke.
“Then where did it come from?”
They both stared upwards. Nothing else was thrown at them.
“Well, we’ve got our orders,” said Smoke. “Unless, of course, you want to argue with the house.”
Amber’s lips twisted. “What are my chances of winning?”
Smoke held up one hand with thumb and finger pinched so that only an anorexic ant could crawl between them.
“But you remember the house from last time, don’t you?” he asked. “You were sensitive to it then.”
“I remember …” Amber paused. “It was odd. Jimmy didn’t know what to make of it all. I would talk about the doors opening before I got to them and he said it was because the house was so old. Talked about cellars and uneven boards and pressure on specific floorboards. He never could get anything to happen.”
“Jimmy doesn’t have magic. Not the way you and Lucinda have … and your mom used to.”
“Leave it alone, Smoke. It’s none of your business. None of anyone’s business.”
Her mom was happy. Happy in her marriage. Happy with her kids. Happy with her life.
That was what she told anyone who was rude enough to ask.
“Fine,” Smoke gathered up the magazine and straightened the cover. “Well. We have our marching orders. I was about to tell you what you had to do to get Five Corners back on balance, but it seems the house has its own agenda. So despite the wards thinning, the full moon not celebrated for two months, you have to go hunt a giant monster.”
“Seriously?” Amber shuddered, to her own surprise. “Which one? How, exactly? And what with? And how giant are we talking?”
“Beats the heck outta me,” said Smoke. “I hadn’t heard of any dragons stealing maidens or trolls under bridges, so let’s eat. Rust made lasagna.”
* * * * *
They ate in the kitchen. Anyone not aware of the complicated nature of the DeGoode household walking into the kitchen would have thought they were in some sort of forced perspective puzzle. One side of the kitchen contained adult-sized furnishings and appliances, on the other side of the room were the same appliances, only child, (no!), dwarf-sized. Since kitchen duties were shared between Lucinda, usually the only large sized adult in the house, and Smoke, Robyn, and the cousins, it was necessary that the kitchen be sized for everyone. While half of the furniture was a comfortable size for Amber, the others were just perfect for tangling her feet and tripping her up.
“Any ideas?” Amber pushed her plate away and reached for the coffee pot.
Smoke intercepted her move and pushed it to the other side of the table. Her other cousins, Lightning, Rust, and Manny, were passing the damn Giant Monsters book from hand to hand. Smoke, still sulking she supposed because the house disagreed with his priorities, declined to examine it again.
“Well,” said Manny, cutting an apple into quarters. “I kinda thought those guys were fiction.”
“They are,” growled Smoke. “Though why anyone would make up a monster when there are enough real ones about, I don’t understand.”
“What real monster am I supposed to deal with?” asked Amber.
“Not a clue,” said Smoke cheerfully and resumed rocking back and forth on two chair legs. “Sounds like you’re gonna get thrown in deep. I’ll take you down to Aunt Lucinda’s workshop and you can take a look at her journals for anything she was worried about before she went off.” He came to his feet with a thud. “And if you could take time to reinforce the wards, I’d thank you.”
“I’m not the guardian. I refuse the Induction until I am convinced that Lucinda … is not coming back. I’m a temporary stand it.”
“I’m not asking you to dedicate yourself,” snapped Smoke. “You’ve made that insultingly clear. You can reinforce the goddamned wards without being a guardian! All you need to be is a witch!”
Amber climbed to her feet and reached for the damned book. Lightning pulled a slip of damned white paper from the back of the damned book and used it to mark a damned page.
She closed her eyes and drew in a cleansing breath. Being angry at Smo
ke was like punching a cloud. Useless, frustrating, and sooner or later she realized that he was right in the first place.
“When you’re done with this, I’d like to read it,” said Lightning.
“Sure,” Amber glanced at the slip and frowned. “You know, this book wasn’t the type to belong in Aunt Lucinda’s library. I thought it must have snatched it from somewhere, but it looks like someone bought it. This is the sales receipt.”
“The library does not ‘snatch’ books,” said Smoke. “That would be stealing. Lassie, Come Home was from this house originally, so by the Laws of Contagion it’s easy enough to call it back.”
“And the copy of Now magazine?”
“No idea,” said Smoke, then saw Lightning blush. “Well, some idea.”
Lightning’s blush deepened.
“So, who bought this?” asked Amber. “It’s dated this year.”
Smoke reached up to take the paper and studied it, growing paler and paler.
“This was purchased online the week before they went missing. Paid for with Lucinda’s Visa card,” he raised his eyes to Amber, for the first time in her experience looking lost and lonely. “I don’t understand. Why’d she order it online when she could’ve just run down and picked it up? This bookstore’s not an hour down the road in Laurenville. She’d go further for a book she wanted if she wanted it right away.”
“Is this the store she usually uses? I didn’t think there was a … a magical bookstore in the Poconos.”
“There isn’t. Lucinda gets most of her stuff hand delivered, or wrapped in silk and packed in carved boxes, or sometimes in tea chests nailed shut with bronze nails. And I don’t think she’s ever seen a Kaiju movie, either.”
“Not Robyn’s type of thing, either,” said Rust. “He’s into film noir right now. Deep, dark, deadly, and dystopian.”
“Cheerful thought. I’m too tired to deal with this today,” Amber took the receipt, neatly folded it, and put it in her handbag. “No sense going somewhere they may be hiding monsters with no sleep. Tomorrow, I think I’ll pay a visit.”
She raised her eyes to the ceiling. As no books on time management landed on her head she assumed the house didn’t have any objections.
Chapter Two
Despite exhaustion from being awake for – now – three days, Amber wasn’t able to sleep. There was just enough caffeine firing up her system and just enough confusion and stress over Lucinda’s disappearance and the mysterious monster situation to make it impossible for her to rest.
She’d stayed in bed all night with her eyes determinedly closed resisting any thought that she turn on the lights and read. Even with two cups of Rust’s Sleepy Time tisane she’d seen every hour of the night through. She gave up the attempt at six in the morning. Not wanting to wake the cousins rattling around in an unfamiliar kitchen, she’d elected to drive to a diner she remembered from the previous day where she had more of the poison that was making it impossible for her to sleep.
By the time the sun dragged itself into the sky she was innervated, exhausted, debilitated, ass-dragging, and over-caffeinated – again.
If she was honest with herself the decision to drive directly to Laurenville instead of going back to the farm and seeing if any of the cousins were willing to go with her was based more on not wanting them to know that the bookstore was going to be her second stop of the day than aversion to their company.
The first was finding someplace with a fax and computer hook up.
She could multitask. Scan the internet for software engineer job openings, send out her updated resume, and get the job hunt started. Then she’d take the time to look for this alleged Giant Monster.
Easy.
A good plan.
It was getting toward lunchtime by the time she located Laurenville Books. It was in a good location, sharing a strip mall with a hiking/skiing/camping equipment store and a gas station/mini mart just off the highway and across the road from three motels on a back road heading toward one of the better skiing and hiking areas of the Poconos Mountains resort area. The bookstore’s windows were well decorated, recently cleaned – and still the place had a faint air of neglect that matched the rest of the strip mall.
That didn’t matter to Amber as much as the sign that advertised a coffee shop inside the bookstore.
“Paradise,” said Amber and climbed out of her car.
She was not ashamed to admit to her twin addictions. When the door opened she would be enveloped in the delicious scent of fresh coffee and the welcoming warmth of many, as yet unread, books. Bookshops were proof that, even in the determinedly rustic heights of the Poconos, she could still find evidence of civilization. If she stayed away from New York City long enough she might be reduced to driving down to Laurenville for fluffy gourmet coffee as a respite to the black sludge that Smoke brewed.
Yes, she was a techie and yes, she was always first in line for new technology, but there were still some things that were better in book form than e-book. Easier to read and understand. For some strange reason that included books on computer software engineering and design. She could lay computer books out across the floor each open to a specific section when she was working on a project. Somehow having sixteen or seventeen e-ink readers didn’t have the same effect.
Go figure.
She needed coffee again. Lots of it. Now. Even though she knew it was dangerous to her system she needed it to think. To function.
Maybe she should try half caf, half decaf, or maybe a latte for the tryptophan effect. She glanced through the window and paused. The store was quiet, barely any customers, which was good. She’d have no trouble getting someone to answer questions if they weren’t being bothered by other demands. A second look brought a frown to her face. She’d seen people dozing off in bookstores before, there was something soporific about bookstores and libraries after all, but she’d never see a place where all the customers were dozing in chairs before lunch time. The staff was barely moving. Over near the far wall an old man was holding onto the bookshelves to keep himself upright as he restocked.
Odd. Very odd.
Amber put one hand on the glass and pushed.
And fell.
Even as the door moved under her fingers she felt the rush of her strength fleeing her body. Her vision grayed and her muscles suddenly were the consistency of cooked spaghetti. Through a red haze she saw her arms move forward too slowly to break her fall as she collapsed. She could hear shouts, voices wrapped in cotton wool, and strangely, the ocean surging. The carpet swelled up and slammed against her face. Aware that she was lying down in public she tried to push herself up, but had only the strength to lie panting on the carpet while feet approached and gentle hands turned her over. She was dragged further into the store, away from the door that kept trying to close despite her body being in the way. A thick cushion was forced under her head and she stared up at a jumble of concerned faces.
She tried to draw breath to speak. With her chest crushed by an unseen weight, she could do nothing more than gasp. Faces passed into her graying field of vision and disappeared.
“Call an ambulance,” said a voice above her head.
I need to get up, thought Amber, Get out of here. I need … I need to stand up.
She couldn’t get a single muscle to move.
“Are you pregnant?” demanded another voice. Then continued. “My daughter couldn’t stay on her feet with her first.”
“That might have been the cause,” said another with a nasty laugh.
She couldn’t stay on the floor. No, ridiculous. Bad. Vulnerable. Undignified. She should get up. Right now. But no, her body refused to obey. Refused to answer her mind. She groaned a little, just to confirm to herself she was still conscious, still alive, even while her body ached with exhaustion and darkness dragged her down.
She had no idea how much time had passed when the world came back again. She was lying on her back, still on the dusty carpet with her head tilted up on a thick uny
ielding chair cushion. She tried to sit up but hands reached toward her from every direction to make her lie down again. One hand swam into view clutching a large cup.
“Take it easy,” said a man’s voice. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
Amber blinked rapidly, trying to clear her blurred sight. Overhead and upside down she saw a tall, thin man with graying hair and worried blue eyes. Nice, kind, warm voice. She smiled at it. Comforting voice with just enough authority to make her reach for the cup.
“It’s alright, dear,” said a woman’s voice. “My daughter used to do this all the time when her sugar got low. Just drink a little milk and you’ll be fine.”
“I am fine.” insisted Amber, struggling against the hands holding her down – and gravity, which seemed stronger here.
“The ambulance is on its way,” said the man. “Stay where you are for a little longer.”
“No, really,” Amber finally managed a sitting position leaning against one of the helpful ladies, tried to take the cup and missed, twice. After her second attempt she sat and permitted her rescuer to feed her milk one sip at a time.
“Did you trip?” asked the man with the cup. Amber caught a brief glimpse of worn-at-the-heels cowboy boots hidden under his work casual trousers as he shifted into a better position to feed her the cold milk. “You’ve got a nasty bruise on your forehead.”
“I’m fine, truly,” muttered Amber, trying to paste a smile on her face and struggling to focus on the bobbing name tag on his shirt. “Ah, you’re the manager. Don’t worry, I’m not going to sue.”
“Thanks. That was the only worry on my mind.”
His wide mouth twisted in a wry smile, and Amber blinked. Now that her vision was clearing he seemed younger than her first guess. With the generous sprinkling of grey in his hair and pale skin she’d first pegged him at mid-forties – maybe older. A closer guess was thirty-something with the beginning of smile lines and intelligent blue eyes.
First Destroy All Giant Monsters (The World Wide Witches Research Association) Page 4
