by Shannon Page
Dr. Mar shrugged. “Fine. Do not step out of line. You will stay with us.”
Petrana’s voice came into my head, faint but real: Here.
I didn’t even get mad at her for disobeying my orders. I just sent her an immediate message back: Stand by. Don’t answer.
She didn’t.
We returned to the first floor of the building, continuing down the passageway leading off from the room where Helios’s body still lay, pinned to the floor by those dreadful swords. Not much time had passed; his blood still looked fresh, and it hadn’t spread much. I swallowed and looked away.
Dr. Mar led me to a small room. In it was a chair, with straps on the arms and a silver helmet-like device at the top. It looked for all the world like an electric chair, except without the electricity.
“What’s that?” I blurted out.
The old warlock smiled proudly. “It will not hurt a bit, as the old saying goes. It merely…sorts through your memories and removes particular ones. Particular inconvenient ones.”
“Wait, what? You guys need a machine for that?” I was so bemused, I almost forgot to be afraid for a moment. Why, I’d fogged a whole evening out of Raymond’s mind not all that long ago. Of course, he was just a human, but still.
“We do if we want calibration. Measurability. Precision.” He waved a hand dismissively. “This is much more effective, and much more permanent, than just a ‘forget-this’ charm.”
And much more damaging, obviously. Fog could be cleared; a burnt-away memory was gone forever. Now my dread returned. I couldn’t let them do this to me. They’re going to suck my memories out of my head with a machine! I sent to Petrana.
Shall I break in?
I thought wildly. Even a golem was no match for four powerful warlocks. They would just break her, and then return to breaking me.
No! Stay outside. But…here.
In a mad mental rush, I sent her everything I knew of everything that had gone on here. Helios’s murder. What this awful device looked like. As much as I could glean from the other warlocks. “How does it do that?” I asked Dr. Mar, both stalling for time and genuinely curious, baffled even. “Does it read minds?”
“Not in the sense that you are undoubtedly thinking,” he said, looking proud. “But particular thoughts and emotions make specific patterns in the brain. With much laborious research, and much trial and error, we have found a way to remove particular…subjects, shall we say, from the brain. Particular concerns. Then, it is a simple matter to apply spells to cover the gaps convincingly. To write a new story, as it were.” He smiled. It was not a pretty smile.
“Why didn’t you just do that to Helios?” I kept my ætheric channel to Petrana open, thinking my words at her too, sending her everything I could. “Why did you have to kill him?”
Dr. Mar sighed. “Of course, we did try this route. More than once. But he just kept wondering…kept returning to his questions. Questions which were no business of his. We could not disable his underlying inquisitiveness without destroying his mind entirely—and then he would have been useless as a researcher.” The warlock shook his head sadly. “He was just too curious. And you know what they say about curiosity.”
I clutched Elnor closer. “Yes, I do.”
Behind Dr. Mar, two of the silent warlocks shifted, clearly growing impatient. Wanting, no doubt, to haul me onto that machine and strap me in.
I needed to get more information out to Petrana. “Do you keep the souls in this building here?” I blurted out.
The old warlock looked at me with a hint of surprise on his face. “Souls?”
“The ones that Dr. Gregorio Andromedus stole from dozens of witches and warlocks, when he was also stealing their essence—for whatever nefarious reasons he had for doing that. With one of your devices.”
“I am sure I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“But you do.” I glanced back at the robed figures behind him. I didn’t have much longer. “I saw the bodies, back in Berkeley. He’s stashed them in the basement of the library building, right next to the extracting machine. The one that Helios Spinnaker told me he’d help build. He told me everything.”
I knew that was too much even as I said it. Dr. Mar’s face hardened. “That is enough,” he said, turning to his confederates. “Put her in the chair.” Then he looked at me with a grim smile. “But thank you for laying out your concerns so specifically. It will make the process easier.”
The two warlocks who had been fidgeting sprang forward and grabbed my arms, one on each side. Elnor hissed and swiped at the one she could reach. He cursed and dropped my arm, then reached back to strike her. I let go of her and she sprang to the floor and darted into the far corner, still hissing. “Elnor! Don’t,” I cautioned her.
The warlock she’d scratched looked undecided for a moment about whether to go after her or take hold of me. He settled on grabbing me again and glaring at her. Fine. I’d rather lose my memory than my familiar.
Both warlocks started hauling me toward the chair. I resisted, but not hard; I had no idea how I could overpower or outwit them all. All I could do was keep feeding Petrana everything I knew, everything that was happening. Close down the link when they start, I told her. I didn’t want anything of what they were doing to me to make its way to her.
We were in front of the chair now. They yanked me around and pushed me down into it. I landed hard, jarring my tailbone. “You didn’t have to do that,” I said.
On my chest, Rosemary gave a sudden shriek. “BA!” It was the loudest sound I’d ever heard out of her. All four warlocks jumped; I wanted to rub my ears, but my two captors were already strapping my arms down. “BAAA!” she yelled again.
“Shut that child up,” Dr. Mar said. The or else was strongly implied.
“I don’t control her!” I wailed. “She’s an infant!” If I didn’t want to lose my familiar, you can probably guess how I felt about my daughter.
“You can speak to her mind,” he said, dismissively. “All witch mothers can.”
Sweetie don’t antagonize them! I sent to her, near panic. We’re going to be okay. Just bear with me. I couldn’t even rock her or cuddle her or pat her head; I was now immobilized in the chair. The warlock goons pulled the headpiece down.
Remember, I swear she said back, but that couldn’t have been; she hadn’t articulated such a complex notion to me yet, and it was quite unlikely that she would start now. Then she added, Strong, which at least she’d said before.
Be strong, I thought, to her and to Petrana and to myself. And even to Elnor, backed in the corner across the room, looking at me—and my captors—with such fierce intensity. If looks could kill, we’d be waltzing out of here right now, stepping over four dead bodies.
But they couldn’t, and we didn’t. Instead, Dr. Mar went to a panel on the wall and pushed a few buttons.
Then he turned and gave me that ugly smile again. “As I said before, this will not hurt a bit.”
— CHAPTER TWENTY —
I had had such an amazing time in the Old Country, I was almost sad to go home. Though I did miss San Francisco, and my house, and my work, and everyone I loved there.
I still wasn’t entirely sure why I had decided to come all this way—at such expense and trouble—for my much-needed post-partum retreat. I only knew that it had been just the right thing to do. I had learned so much. I would never be the same again.
Balszt is nothing like how they describe. I mean, it’s a whole city full of magic users! So freeing; nobody has to hide.
I wished we could live so openly everywhere. Of course, that was impossible, every witch knows that. But I could certainly see why witchkind had established its own country, with its own capital city. Honestly, every witch and warlock should make a pilgrimage at least once in their lifetime.
I’d been told that the natives here were stuffy and closed-off, unwelcoming to visitors. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Everyone I met, from the front desk clerk
at my gorgeous hotel, to waitresses and shopkeepers all over the city, to the friends I met in cafés and bars and on the street—even this cool old auntie who read my tarot cards in one of the markets—everyone was just so friendly! I would definitely be coming back here again.
Maybe even with Jeremy. I smiled as I packed my satchel, bulging now with all the mementos and souvenirs I’d bought, and all the new clothes. I’d tried to keep the shopping to a minimum, but oh, it was hard to resist such fun things.
I was going to have a heck of a time bringing all this back on the ley lines.
Oh well. I’d manage somehow. I always did.
I’d spent the last few days of my vacation getting beefed up for the journey home, taking my special Canadian herbs, resting up. Ley line travel undersea was incredibly taxing. I didn’t have a lot of memory of the trip over, except that I’d needed to eat and sleep a lot, before and after. So I did the same now. Not that I needed much encouragement to do that! Seemed like every day, I was discovering an amazing new restaurant within walking distance of The Majestic Hotel.
Though I ate at least half my meals in the hotel’s own restaurant. Their empath chef always knew what I wanted. I finally got to meet her in person, three days before I left. “I will be cooking for you strengths foods,” she said, patting Rosemary’s head and grinning at her. “You and the bébé will need the strengths for your travelings!”
Strong, Rosemary agreed. It was her favorite word. She was as cheerful as ever, and still didn’t cry, though I wasn’t terribly worried about that. Now that she could communicate with me, there was really no need to. Yes, it was odd, but then, who isn’t a little odd?
I couldn’t believe it was time to go home. “I could just totally live here,” I told Magrit at the front desk, as I signed the invoice. It would all be charged to our coven house, but I had to approve the bill.
She looked at me with a sad smile. “I do hope you return to see us soon, Callie.”
“Oh, believe me. I’ll be back.”
After our business was done, she came around the desk so she could give me a strong hug. Petrana was holding Rosemary, so I could actually hug. “You take care, okay?” Was she wiping away a tear? Gosh, they were friendly here.
“I will, and you too!” I said, feeling maybe even a little choked-up myself.
The journey home was as long as the journey over, but at least this time I knew what to expect. There were the long spans of boredom, the periods of exhausted recovery, the times when my mind sort of drifted away and let the journey happen.
I saw some of my same pals from the trip over: Parson from the Azores, the friendly coven in Canada. But mostly I was just antsy to get home. I didn’t linger anywhere, just long enough to recharge for the next leg of the journey.
And then…at long last…I emerged from a ley line and was back in San Francisco.
We were a few blocks from my house; it was the most direct line heading west. I stood on the sidewalk, just breathing in the damp clean air, while Elnor sneezed. In Petrana’s arms, Rosemary gave a happy giggle, then said, “Ma-ma-ma!”
“That’s right,” I said, taking her and rocking her a bit. “This is Mama’s city, and your city too. We’re home!”
Tired as I was, it still felt good to walk to the house. I barely had enough energy to put a little shroud of indirection-spell around Petrana so she wouldn’t freak out the humans. Gosh, it had been nice not to have to do that in the Old Country. Not that everyone had golems or anything—she was still a uniquely weird thing, as far as I could tell—but at least there everyone knew what she was.
I climbed the steps to my front porch and paused, testing to see if my wards were still intact. They were; I unmade them and let us in.
“Are you hungry, Mistress Callie?” Petrana asked, as I set my bags down in the front hall.
“Always, these days. I don’t know what we have in the house, though—just cook anything.”
“I will see what I can find.” She headed down to the kitchen.
I went into the front parlor with Rosemary and flopped down on the couch. She grabbed at my blouse, of course. “You’re welcome to try,” I told her. “But until I’ve eaten, I’m not sure how much luck you’re gonna have.”
It didn’t dissuade her; she was soon suckling happily.
Petrana returned after about ten minutes with a plate of toasted cheese sandwiches, cut into triangles. “Oh Blessed Mother,” I moaned. “How did you know?”
My golem smiled, I think (she was still not quite as expressive as I’d have liked). “I know a lot more than you realize, Mistress Callie.”
“Do you now,” I said absently, around a mouthful. I was so going to bed after this.
“I do, yes. And I look forward to sharing all my knowledge with you, when the time comes.”
I chewed and swallowed, then grinned at her. “Okay, well, you just let me know.”
It was fascinating, how she was developing such a personality. I ought to write a research paper about golems, I thought—not how to make them, there was plenty of lore about that, but about how to grow them. To tend them, teach them, live with them. Who ever followed up, after the initial creation?
Something in the back of my mind pinged. Had I read something about this before?
Had I had this thought before?
I shook my head and grabbed another sandwich triangle. “Ugh, travel is so disorienting.”
“Yes, Mistress Callie,” she said, and went back to the kitchen.
Meanwhile, Elnor was working her way around the house. It had been so long since we’d been here, she had to explore every nook and cranny all over again. “Can you let her into the closet under the stairs?” I called out to Petrana. “I don’t think I can get up.”
“Of course,” she called from the kitchen. “You just rest.”
“You betcha.”
I must have fallen asleep right there on the couch, once my belly was full of toasted cheese. When I woke up, night had fallen. Rose slept on my chest, her mouth hanging open around my nipple. Her little breath on it was chilling me; I supposed that was what had awakened me.
“Brr,” I said, shifting around a bit to pull us up to sitting, and buttoning my blouse. Rose murmured in her sleep as I laid her down on a couch cushion, pulling her tiny fist to her face.
Elnor must have finished her inspection and deemed the house safe. She slept on the far end of the sofa, next to Rose.
Ah, it was good to be home.
I did need to check in with my parents and with the coven, let everyone know I was home and safe, but first, I wanted to unpack. Maybe take a shower. Reacquaint myself with my house, my life.
I got up, gathered my bags from the front hall, and peered back into the front parlor. Rosemary was sacked out on her cushion, but I couldn’t leave her there. If she rolled over, she’d fall on the floor. But she looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to carry her up to her crib, and I wasn’t ready to go back to bed myself.
“Petrana?” I called. “Can you come in here and watch the baby? I’m going to put all this crap away.”
“Of course, Mistress Callie.”
Upstairs, I poked my head in all the rooms, even though I knew Elnor had been through here. The air was a little musty, but everything was in order.
The shower felt great. My bathroom at the hotel in the Old Country was…minimalist, let’s say. And the facilities on the road were, for the most part, even worse.
After I was clean and dressed in clothes I hadn’t seen in weeks, I headed up to the third floor, just to look in on my lab—I wasn’t ready to start working just yet.
I stood in front of my lab bench, trying to even remember the last time I’d done anything up here. I kept meaning to start an experiment after Rosemary was born, but I just…hadn’t. I didn’t think. And what had I been working on before my “confinement,” as Dr. Andromedus had so charmingly put it?
Oh, right, strengthening our fertility. How ironic, that I should have co
nceived, and so easily, right in the middle of that research! I laughed at myself a little as I grabbed a rag and dusted off the bench, and some of the bottles of potions and reagents.
One of the vials gave me pause. I pulled it down, and there was another one just like it.
What was I doing with all this blood?
Shifting to my witch-sight, I looked inside the first vial. Huh. Witch blood, and it looked perfectly ordinary, perfectly healthy. The vial was labeled with a sample number.
I set it down and picked up the second one. Different number, different witch; same healthy blood.
Jeez, what had I been doing? I couldn’t remember this at all. I’d have to dig through my lab notebooks—and hope I’d even written down what I was up to (not always my greatest strength as a researcher, I am embarrassed to admit).
Blessed Mother, pregnancy brain much? I thought, setting the vials back on the shelf. Then I went back and opened one of the windows a crack to let some air in here. Dusting had just made the room seem more stuffy and stale.
Then I locked the door and headed back downstairs where I checked on Rosemary. Petrana was still watching her; my baby snoozed on. “I guess ley line travel is hard on baby witchlets too,” I said.
“I expect so,” Petrana agreed.
I went to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of elderflower wine, bringing it back to the front room and sitting in the easy chair. “You don’t have to keep watching her if you don’t want to,” I told my golem.
She just looked back at me.
I laughed. “Right, you want to do what I want you to do. I’ll get used to that eventually.”
“Yes, Mistress Callie.”
I took a sip of my wine, set the glass on the table, and sent a message through the æther to Jeremy. I am home.
I had been wondering! I’m happy to hear that. You must be exhausted?
I am, I told him, but I just had a long nap and a marvelous shower. Are you busy right now?
