Soul Cage

by Phaedra Weldon

  Something touched Maureen's shoulder, and ashamedly so, she screamed like a little girl.

  "Maureen—it is nice to meet you."

  Who—?

  "Is that Geist?" Alice called out.

  Geist?

  Maureen reached out and her hands touched flesh. A few more pokes and she realized she was touching his neck. "You're pretty solid in here."

  "Yes. It is because I exist on all planes simultaneously."

  Light flared overhead and Maureen squinted again. Geist came into view—or rather—Joe Halloran did. "Wait…you're Geist?"

  "Yes." He tilted his head to her right. "Oh. Yes. This shape is the one Zoë prefers I assume."

  Maureen frowned. "Really. She doesn't want you to look like Dags?"

  "No." His gaze shifted to something behind her. "Alice—are you well?" he said in a much louder voice, as to make sure Alice could hear him in the dark.

  "Yes I am, Geist."

  "Good. I believe you are correct that someone should stay with the Grimoire. I will do this while you join Maureen in central control."

  Central control? Maureen leaned in close to him. He looked like Joe, but he talked like Sheldon Cooper. What was it she'd learned while in the Abysmal Throne? Geist was technically the planar equivalent of a program that ran the day to day functions of the outer planes?

  Or…something like that.

  He refocused on her. "I prefer to think of myself as an ancient consciousness amassed by the continual use and application of universal principles whose existence serves a higher purpose."

  Oh. Hell, and he reads minds! Maureen winced. She had no idea what he'd just said. "Oh yeah right. Look—"

  The darkness shook. Maureen was happy she hadn't tried to stand or she'd have fallen back on her butt. "What was that?"

  "The book is vibrating—" Alice shouted in the dark.

  "Rhonda is forcing her power into the book. This is not acceptable. Alice Bonville, please step through the tear. I will take your place."

  And then he was gone. A few seconds later Alice tumbled into Maureen and the shaking stopped. Maureen waited a few minutes before she spoke. The light Geist had popped into the air, a tiny but powerful firefly, remained. "So…what just happened?"

  "The Grimoire is dark," Geist's voice echoed over them. "She has withdrawn the spell. The exchange was successful. But I am afraid it will not take her long to figure out what you have done. I have ejected the torn page to prevent her from trying to open the Grimoire again. If you wish to convey your intent to your friends, you must take the next opportunity."

  Maureen looked at Alice, whose white hair was now in her face. "Geist…what do you mean you ejected the torn page?"

  "Exactly that. The Grimoire is only accessible as a viable means of information when all the pages are present, as demonstrated during the time the Guardian was unable to access the contents due to having a single page missing. I have duplicated the event once again to prevent the witch from causing any more damage, or preventing her shadow from gaining its own foothold into the Guardian's psyche."

  The two Familiars blinked at one another. "Geist…" Alice said in a cautious tone. "You ejected the torn page, which has memories of Maureen on it. That's how she was gaining control."

  There was a pause. "I seem to have miscalculated."

  Maureen slapped her hands to her face. "Great. Does that mean I can't control him?"

  "No, it does not. But in order for you to gain control enough to present your message to anyone outside of the Mental Plane…the Guardian must be subdued."

  "I don't like the sound of that," Alice muttered.

  Maureen looked at Alice. "What does that mean?"

  "I will attempt to create a rise in temperature. Such physical stimulation has, in my observation, proven to be quite accomplished at softening the control of the astral form."

  Alice laughed at Maureen. "That is one confused face."

  "I don't have a fucking clue what it was he just said."

  "He's going to give Dags a fever. It'll weaken his astral enough so that you can step in."

  "A fever?"

  As if on command, the flat black surface they sat on grew warm. Maureen and Alice stood as the temperature in the room steadily increased at an alarming rate.

  "Geist! Stop!" Alice held out her hands under the light of the firefly above them. "What are you doing?"

  "Increasing the temperature."

  "To what?"

  "One hundred and four point two two—"

  "Geist! Take that back down or you'll send him into a coma!"

  Maureen wiped at her sweaty forehead with the back of her hand. "So…this is an all powerful program, eh?"

  Alice gave a long, drawn out sigh.

  The temperature dropped but did remain warmer than before. "I seem to have miscalculated once again."

  "What does that mean?" Maureen asked.

  "The Guardian has lost consciousness."

  Maureen glared at Alice. "I always said programs were only as smart as the gits who write them."

  •••

  Jason waited with Nona and she appreciated his attentiveness. He treated her no different now than he had when they were lovers, no matter that she was much older now, with a solidly larger body and wrinkles. He still looked at her as if he were looking at the Nona of thirty years ago.

  They were in the kitchen, Jason and Nick preparing a meal for herself and Joe. The cop had come in not long after the initial surge of magical use ended. Though exhausted from the day, he'd felt it when he walked in the house. Entering the kitchen, he'd given Nona a kiss, then attempted to kiss Jason, who dodged before Joe could succeed. She'd noticed the two had a more than close relationship, more of what Zoë called a bromance. She just wished Daniel and Dags could get along as well.

  Joe set a rock on the counter.

  "What's that?"

  "When Zoë packed a few things up for her new place, I put that rock inside the box. I had no idea that was Tim's rock. But the box ended up at my place—so he's been with me ever since she moved."

  Tim abruptly appeared and looked at everyone, his large dark eyes darting from face to face to face, then he looked around him. "Whoa…where am I?"

  "The new Society House," Nona said as she slipped off her stool and opened her arms wide. "It's good to see you."

  Tim grabbed hold of Nona and squeezed. He and Steve had practiced at becoming corporeal over the past year—especially around Zoë. "Oh it's good to be seen." He stepped back, nodded at Jason and Nick, then looked around again. "Where's Zoë?"

  "She's in Montreal," Jason said. "With Daniel."

  "Daniel—?" Tim narrowed his eyes. "Frasier?"

  "Mmhmm," Nona said. "Daniel wanted to take her on a short vacation. You know, get her away from Dags and Rhonda."

  The ghost's face darkened. "What is up with Rhonda doing that them? I thought she was Zoë's friend. And why was she at the house last week?"

  "The house?" Nona sat back down. "You mean the store?"

  "Yeah, she came in there while everyone was gone."

  Nona pursed her lips. "Alone?"

  "I didn't think so at first—cause I could hear her talking. So Steve and I watched her from the wall. She was alone, but talked to herself the whole time."

  Nona pursed her lips. Morgan mentioned this as well. She and Manuel both said Rhonda was talking to herself quite a bit.

  Odd. "She wasn't speaking to a First Born?"

  "Doesn't work like that if she was alone," Nick said. He moved his cutting board and mound of carrots and potatoes to the counter in front of Nona and Tim. "A Revenant would have to be nearby. The only way they can communicate long distance is with each other."

  "Yeah," Jason said. "I knew what Morgan was doing because Mephistopheles told me, not because I could hear Morgan."

  "I've never known her to talk to herself. Ever." Nona chewed on her lower lip. "What did she do?"

  "Grabbed a few books, a few other thing
s here and there. Nothing much. I watched her put money in the register so I figured it was just things she needed. Then she left."

  It was still odd. Rhonda rarely ever took things from the house unless she spoke to Nona first. Mostly because it was Nona's house.

  Joe had stepped into the corner to make himself a cup of coffee with the Keurig and went to the fridge to grab milk. "Rhonda's been a bit squirrely ever since that night at the old house."

  Nona frowned. Jason turned from the stove. "You mean that night Nick and I showed up to help get Dags out?"

  "Yeah," Joe poured milk into the cup and then slipped a spoon in. He leaned against the stove. "It was after that—when Dags woke up and discovered he couldn't accesses the Grimoire? Rhonda got all quiet and mad at herself. She thought she'd misplaced that page. Went looking everywhere for it—then one day she just stopped. Didn't talk about it again."

  "You think that was weird?" Nona said.

  "Well for Rhonda's personality yeah. It was just after that she sort of got real obsessive with Zoë's life. Asking all kinds of questions about her, and then her with Dags—"

  "I remember that," Jason said. "Asked me and Nick about her past."

  "But she knows all about Zoë's past," Nona said. "Was it anything in particular?"

  Before anyone could answer the door to the kitchen burst open. Jason and Nick were suddenly in front of Nona and Joe was reaching for his gun.

  It was Rhonda. She looked—scared.

  "Jesus woman," Joe said as he straightened up. "Don't do that. I've been in the city all day. I could have shot you."

  Nona stepped around the two men and looked at Rhonda. "What is it?"

  For the first time in a while she was sure she was seeing the Rhonda she'd known and thought of as her daughter. The young woman's skin was very pale. Circles hung over her cheeks, beneath her eyes. And she was shaking. Her gaze slid from Nona over to Jason and a cold mask covered her face. Her hands balled into fists and the air in the kitchen crackled with static.

  "You," she glared at Jason. "What did you do to him…."

  Jason frowned. His own face changed and Mephistopheles harmonized with Jason's voice. "Rhonda—"

  "WHAT DID YOU DO TO THE BOOK!"

  That's when all hell broke loose in the kitchen.

  -7-

  Joe Halloran never had much use for magic. From a young age he'd shown promise with it. Mostly when he didn't want it. His mother called it "leakage" when things around him reacted to his emotional state. He didn't want to be called a witch, like his mother and grandmother.

  He also knew both of them had been disappointed he'd been born a male.

  Unlike movies and books that told fictional stories about witches and magic, men were also witches. Not warlocks. Warlock had a completely different meaning. In certain circles, no witch ever wanted to be warlocked because it meant the same thing as being banished.

  But when a family as old as the Hallorans began producing what they called the divine trinity, a make up of three women to symbolize the maiden, mother and crone, it was expected the third child to eventually become the maiden would be a girl.

  Big surprise that day.

  His grandmother, the second daughter of a second daughter, and his mother, also the second daughter of a second daughter, had been very diligent in following all the proper herbal and ritual assurances that her second child would be a female. Her first had been a girl—and though not magically gifted—Rachelle was smart, brilliant and talented in many other ways. So it seemed logical the second child would be female. None of the Halloran women had undergone sonograms or amniocentesis to determine sex before birth. It was believed those scientific methods would interfere with nature's work. The fetus would be magically sterilized.

  Then out popped Joe.

  Ignored at first by his mother, who felt as if she'd failed the Goddess, Joe grew up surrounded by love from his extended family, and most of all cared for by his older sister. In time when it became evident that Joe was indeed a witch—and a powerful one—his mother and grandmother started taking a vested interest. After all, without the God there cannot be the Goddess.

  But by then it was too late, and Joe's opinion of magic was bullshit, as were his beliefs in a system that'd failed him.

  But over the years he'd discovered things would come naturally to him. Wish-Craft is what he called it. He'd want something in a powerful way, and events would arrange themselves to grant him whatever it was. A girl. A promotion. A house.

  Except for one.

  There was one thing his magic wouldn't give him.

  Zoë.

  And because of that failure he'd started listening to Rhonda and Nona, see for himself what he could do to make a difference in this 'effed up world. He started his training seriously after Zoë and Rhonda had their first falling out. And a romantic relationship developed between Rhonda and himself, though he knew she was attracted to Dags McConnell.

  Then came Dags' rescue from Rodriquez which was the catalyst for Rhonda's subsequent mastery of a spell she barely knew, one she'd written to destroy the Grimoire, but instead had fused it to Dags' soul.

  Her doing that had scared the shit out of Joe and once the universe put them all back together again, he renewed his interest in Zoë from afar, just as he watched Rhonda renew hers of Dags.

  And how cruel was fate when revealed that Zoë and Dags loved one another?

  It'd been devastating.

  Joe had kissed Zoë only the one time, in that basement. He'd felt it in the marrow of his bones, and he knew she'd felt it as well. The power behind it.

  And then it was over. And he'd remained steadfast. A friend to her, and oddly enough to the Symbiont / First Born that transformed her into a Wraith.

  Now he was friends with the Phantasm of the Abysmal Plane, his best friend was a vampire and running from the very system he swore to defend, and his former girlfriend was about to go all Dark Willow on one of the women he admired more than his own mother.

  No. I don't think so.

  Wish-Craft or not, Joe set his gun aside on the counter as he felt the magic churn around Rhonda. He wouldn't let her hurt Nona, or Jason, or anyone else for a while. Something was very wrong with Rhonda—they'd all seen it. What she'd done to Dags and Zoë was unforgivable. If she'd have just shown some sign of remorse at her actions, he was sure he could forgive her.

  But she hadn't.

  In fact, she'd started treating Dags like a possession. And inside of him was a very…powerful…possession.

  Abruptly he saw in his mind's eye the thing he wanted. And just like all the other times in his life where he desired something, wished for it, it came to him.

  The power to shut her down.

  He wasn't aware the maelstrom Rhonda's magic began in the kitchen suddenly ceased. During his wish knives had rattled in their butcher blocks but never escaped. Pots and pans clanked together from where they hung over the counter but never broke away to sail into the air like missiles. Tiles rattled from the walls as the grout holding them in place turned to dust but they simply fell to their cracked doom instead of flying off. Every possible item she could have used in the room shook at her command—

  But obeyed his.

  Silence rushed in and Rhonda staggered back. What could have been a disaster had been mitigated down to a few hundred dollars in tile replacement.

  Sweat beaded on Rhonda's forehead, on her neck and cheeks. Her wide eyes searched the faces in front of her—but they were looking at each other.

  "Who—" Rhonda choked out. "What the fuck is going on?! Who did that?"

  Jason pursed his lips. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Looks to me like there's a witch a hell of a lot stronger in here than you. And they don't like way you behaved just then. So why don't we start over?"

  "I want to know who!" Rhonda ignored Jason. She approached Nona but Nick blocked her way. She looked at Joe and her expression fell— "No…."

  He clenched his jaw as he s
oftened his anger at her. Stopping her magic had been…easy. And he wasn't going to let on how that scared the shit out of him. He hadn't known he could do it, but he hadn't believed he couldn't. Basics of magic. You believe. You can.

  You doubt, you die.

  "Yes," he said as he moved to stand in front of the other two. "Back the fuck off, Rhonda. No one in this room has touched or messed with that damned Grimoire but you." He was amazed how strong and solid his voice sounded while inside his heart beat bruises against his chest. "Jason took Dags out to get you a present—why the fuck can't you accept that?" Nona had already filled him in on the morning's events. "If there's something wrong now with the book—don't you think it's better to talk to us so we can help? Rather than go all Wicked Witch of the West? Cause right now, if you do that again, I swear I'll drop a house on you."

  She stared at him more with disbelief than anger at first. He watched as her expression slowly changed. Shifted. And as he watched he thought he saw…something else. Something very wrong.

  Joe thought she was going to turn and run. Leave them all alone. Instead she took in a deep breath and crossed her arms over her chest to match Jason's. "Dags is sick."

  "Sick?" Nona the mom said as she pushed everyone out of her way. "Let me see him."

  Rhonda hesitated.

  Joe pushed at Rhonda. It wasn't a mental shove as much as an astral poke, to remind her he was there. He'd done it a few times now and then when they were dating, when she taught him the differences in the planes. And back then it had all been in fun.

  But not now.

  No. Boundaries had just been crossed.

  Rhonda stepped back, glared at Joe, nodded to Nona, turned and left the kitchen.

  Nona put a hand on Joe's arm. "We need to talk," was all she said before she followed behind.

  Joe braced himself on the counter next to where he'd set his gun. His knees burst like water filled balloons and he was pretty sure if the counter hadn't of been solid—he'd have ended up on the floor.

  "You…you did that?" Jason said.

  Joe nodded but continued to look at the blue-marble counter. "Yeah. I did."

  "I didn't know you could do that."