Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus Beginnings

by Lydia Sherrer

  He tried to turn, but with a roll of the eyes Sebastian pushed him out the window. The man didn’t even have time to scream before he hit the shed roof. He lay there a moment, stunned, but then the sound of sirens seemed to rouse him to action. He scrambled to the roof edge and clambered down a series of garbage cans set beside the shed wall, then took off into the night.

  Well, there was his good deed of the day, Sebastian thought. Hopefully the man had enough sense to stay out of trouble after this. Sebastian straddled the sill himself and was preparing to drop down when his eyes fell on the stacks of money, drugs, and bottles of alcohol sitting on the desk. He had a sudden, fierce urge to rip off the boss’s shirt and make a few Molotov cocktails to chuck down the stairs at the fighting gang members below. But a fire might destroy evidence, and the police needed everything intact to press charges. With a sigh, he settled for stuffing wads of bills into a grocery bag lying on the table. After a moment’s consideration, he added the boss’s bottle of vodka. All that alcohol he’d promised to Jas wasn’t going to be cheap. Then he headed back out the window.

  He was just rounding the corner three blocks down when the cop cars screeched to a halt in front of the building. Turning away, a slow smile spread across his face. Not his usual gig, taking down gangs. He tended to stick to wealthy, superstitious clients who made petty, if well-paying, requests and lapped up his tricks and illusions like drug addicts. But not a bad day’s work, considering. With a bounce in his step, he set off to find a taxi and retrieve his car. It looked like he would be taking a field trip to Pitts. But first, he had a delivery to make.

  * * *

  Sebastian stood in the shadows across the street from Pearl Harris’s apartment complex. From his vantage point, he could see her apartment door in the glow of the security lights. There was no guarantee she would come straight home from the bar, but if he’d timed it right, she should be arriving just about now.

  Sure enough, her figure appeared from the gloom, on foot, coming from the direction of the bar. She looked tired, her head drooping and feet dragging wearily. Watching her closely as she climbed the steps, he smiled when she stopped abruptly at the sight of a plastic grocery bag hanging from her door handle. With hesitant motions, she unhooked it and peered inside. Though he wasn’t close enough to see her face, he saw the shock in her body language. She pulled out a piece of paper from the bag, stared at the words scribbled on it, then shook herself. Looking around for observers, she quickly slipped inside and shut the door.

  Mission accomplished, Sebastian emerged from his hiding place and headed down the street to his car, already packed and ready for his trip to Pitts.

  As he got in and turned the key, he couldn’t stop smiling, picturing Pearl’s face in his mind and imagining her expression while reading the note he’d left in the bag:

  I’m out. Get yourself out too.

  - Cory

  Episode 2

  Möbius Strip

  1

  The Uses of Moldy Pizza

  Though not the most aesthetically pleasing or comfortable place to read, the Basement was nonetheless Lily Singer’s favorite. Hidden beneath the McCain Library of Agnes Scott College, this secret archive of wizardry and occult books lacked beams of sunlight to bask in, warm, fuzzy cats to pet, and a kitchen in which to make scones and tea—all delightful things, but distracting nonetheless. The Basement was silent as a grave and blessedly cool in the heat of the Atlanta summer. This peace and quiet, not to mention the plethora of magical wards, made it an ideal location for reading, studying, and practicing magic undisturbed.

  She’d filled it with the comforts of home, of course. Being the archives manager of the library above and curator of the Basement’s secrets, she had exclusive authority over its interior decoration. When her predecessor, Madam Barrington, had been its keeper, it had contained minimal decoration and only a few hardwood chairs—a reflection of her mentor’s austere nature. Nothing had changed when Madam Barrington took on Lily as a student to teach her wizardry. That had been seven years ago during Lily’s freshman year at Agnes Scott. It wasn’t until her mentor had retired last year and left the Basement in her care that Lily took steps to make it a bit more welcoming.

  First, she’d brightened the place up by renewing the light spells on the dozen dimmu-engraved glass balls hanging from the ceiling. No outlets or electrical wiring graced the Basement, since the whole thing had been magically created from a broom closet during the original 1936 construction of McCain Library—known then as the Carnegie Library. It had the advantage of being accessible only to wizards, and only to those who knew the access spell. Not that the Basement was much of a secret. Madam Barrington had said the Basement was frequented by numerous wizards at one point in time. But that must have been long ago, since Lily had only ever seen one other person there besides herself and her mentor. It seemed the Basement was protected by simple virtue of being forgotten.

  With that in mind, she doubted anyone would ever see, or care, about her improvements, from hanging art on the walls to enchanting the dull ceiling to resemble the rib-vaulted heights of the library above. She’d added several small tables to display various magical knickknacks previously hidden away in drawers. There were items like a delicate antique engraver made entirely of spun lead except for its diamond tip, used to carve magical runes of power—dimmu runes—into any surface. Then there were the all-speak glasses, enchanted to translate any text into English for whoever was wearing them. Though quite useful, their creator must have had coprolalia, because the glasses had an annoying tendency to add in random swear words.

  As for other furniture, she’d left the large oak worktable, but the hardwood chairs had been relegated to stepping stools and replaced by several tastefully upholstered chintz chairs. How she’d managed to single-handedly maneuver those things down the archive steps, through the broom closet, and into the Basement, she had no idea. But she’d done it. Overall, the room’s ambiance was much improved. It had become an island of peace in a world annoyingly full of people who, oddly enough, wanted to interact with her.

  Thus it was quite shocking when her cell phone rang that Saturday afternoon. She was ensconced in a chintz chair, studying one of the books Sebastian had given her from Francis Jackson’s estate. Not only was she underground—her cell barely got signal in the archive room next door—but the magical nature of the Basement completely scrambled electronic signals of any kind. After the first few seconds of shock wore off, she recognized the jaunty jingle of the 1960s theme song from Bewitched.

  Lily rolled her eyes and sighed. If anyone could manage to call her in a signal blackout zone, it would be Sebastian. Leave it to him to disturb her peace. Being a witch, and a good one at that, he usually found a way. Lily considered not answering—she hated interruptions. But she’d been meaning to ask him about the fae for several weeks now and hadn’t been able to reach him, so she knew she might as well get it over with.

  Lily set down her book and picked up the phone. “This had better be good,” she said without preamble.

  “It went through!” Sebastian exclaimed, his relieved voice distorted by static.

  “How the heck are you calling me?” Lily demanded. “I don’t get signal down here.”

  “Are you in the Basement? No wonder Jas had so much trouble finding you.”

  “What? Who’s Jas?”

  “Never mind, I don’t have time.”

  “But—”

  “Lily!” Sebastian yelled, startling her into affronted silence. After a hesitation, he continued, apologetic, “I’m sorry, but this is urgent and I don’t have much time. I need you to do exactly as I say. Lives depend on it.”

  “Okay,” she said, dubious but giving him the benefit of the doubt.

  “I need you to meet me at 717 Eighth Street in Pitts at exactly, uhhh,” he paused, “5:23 p.m. today. Exactly. And you need to stand on the curb, four steps away from the lamp pole.”

  “What?” Lily was thorough
ly confused.

  “No time to explain,” Sebastian said, tone urgent. “Just promise you’ll be there.”

  “I—” she began, but he interrupted.

  “Oh, and you need to bring a box of old pizza from my house. The kitchen window is loose, you can get in that way.”

  “I’m not going into that dump,” she protested.

  “You…have to!” Sebastian’s voice started breaking up even more, half his words lost in the crackle. “I…it….crazy…have…promise…be…5:23…pizza…promise me!”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll—” Lily started, but the call had already dropped. She looked at the phone in consternation, exceedingly annoyed.

  “Humph. A pox on you, Sebastian,” she grumbled, unfolding from her curled-up position in the chintz chair and reaching for a pencil to write down his crazy request before she forgot the details. She’d planned to spend the entire day in quiet solitude, just her and her books. So much for that.

  As she gathered her things, she considered—not for the first time—blocking Sebastian on her phone. But she had a soft spot for adventure, and, no matter how annoying he was, that charming ne’er-do-well always seemed to find it. Besides, who else would be there to get him out of trouble if not her?

  Looking around, Lily ensured she’d left everything in order, then headed for the door. Before she exited, she said a word to dim the lights and another to activate the passive spell which would alert her if anyone tried to force entry. There was no door to lock—it was, after all, a public collection of sorts. Instead, spells much older and stronger than she could ever cast protected the items within, preventing their removal, destruction, or alteration by anyone but her, the gatekeeper. Ensuring the room was properly warded, she left, emerging into the archives broom closet. After a quick peek to check that the archives were empty, she slipped out of the closet and shut the door behind her. Only Penny, her archives assistant, had access to the archives room besides her, but it was always safer to check. Everyone knew Lily spent hours in the archives conducting esoteric research, so no questions were asked and everyone remained blithely unaware of the wizard’s library beneath their feet.

  With a sigh, she turned off the lights, locked the archives door behind her, and trudged up the steps to the main library and her office. Time to find out where the heck Pitts was.

  * * *

  Lily glanced at her watch. It was 5:20 pm. She stood exactly where Sebastian had asked and, distastefully holding the box of moldy pizza as far away from her as possible, gazed around at the deserted street. Pitts, as it turned out, was a tiny town in south Georgia, about a two-hour drive from Atlanta. According to the latest census, it had a whopping population of 302 people.

  The odd thing was that not a single soul was visible. Even in a town this small there should have been someone on the main thoroughfare, but it was deserted. Several pickups were parked down the street, and the single strip of small-town stores looked as lived-in as possible in a place this remote. The 5 and Dime general store had an “OPEN” sign hanging inside its glass door, and the antique shop across the street had a running electric fan which rotated slowly back and forth, cooling a nonexistent customer base. It was as if everyone had disappeared moments before, leaving the street exactly as it was.

  She shivered, standing just inside a shadow cast by the two-story brick building between her and the hot Georgia sun. This town creeped her out. She glanced at her watch again. 5:23 had arrived, but Sebastian had not. That was odd, given how insistent he’d been on the exactness of the time. She was going to kill him for dragging her all the way out here without telling her why if, on top of that, he was late.

  A minute passed, then another. At 5:25, Lily was ready to give up in disgust. Instead of leaving, she decided to head over to the general store and see if anyone was around who could explain what the heck was going on. As she stepped out onto the street, she felt a sudden tug of magic and—

  HOOOONK!!!

  The deafening blare of a car horn assaulted her ears as a hand came out of nowhere and jerked her back onto the curb. In that split second, the whole street was transformed. People appeared where there had been none, and cars filled a previously empty street. The mysterious hand had pulled her back just in time to avoid getting hit by a dusty pickup truck that had seen better days, yet still moved at a respectable clip.

  “I said to meet me on the curb, not in the street! What are you trying to do, get yourself killed?” Sebastian’s voice came from behind her, and strong hands turned her shocked body around so he could look her up and down. His drawn, tired face showed worry as he took the pizza box from her hands and checked her for injury.

  Lily shrugged off his hands, switching to no-nonsense “research” mode to hide her tremor and racing pulse. “I’m fine. Where am I and what just happened? This place was deserted a second ago. What’s going on?”

  Sebastian grinned, a bit of his normal self showing through. “Well, I was being bored to death, but now that you’re here the real party can get started.” He gave her a slap on the back and turned her with a flourish to begin guiding her down the street toward the outskirts of town.

  Lily planted her feet and crossed her arms. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on. You claimed lives were at stake. Did you just mean your own? You’re either up to something questionable, or you’ve gotten yourself in a pickle. What did you do this time?”

  “It’s more along the lines of what I didn’t do, actually.” Sebastian sighed. “Can’t I tell you on the way? We’re a bit short on time here.”

  She glared at him for a moment, then relented. “Fine. But where are we going? I need to get some things from my car.”

  Pulling her along, Sebastian shook his head sadly. “Trust me, you’re not going to see that car again until we fix this mess. Just come with me, I’ll explain while we walk.”

  Feeling disoriented, Lily looked up the street to where she’d parked her car not five minutes ago. It was gone. She stared at the empty spot, unable to believe her eyes, only moving when Sebastian gently tugged on her arm to pull her down the street. She stayed on the opposite side of him from the box of molding pizza he held, trying to wrap her mind around what was going on. Waiting until they’d left the main part of town and no pedestrians were visible, she cleared her throat significantly, nudging her friend when he didn’t respond.

  “Huh?” Sebastian seemed to have been lost in thought.

  “You start talking or I stop walking,” Lily reminded him.

  “Ah, yes. Well…it’s a rather long story,” he muttered, looking away.

  “Then summarize,” she insisted.

  He chuckled ruefully. “Okay, if that’s the way you want it, then here you go. A magical artifact I had in my possession, eh…went astray, ended up here, and is now being used to loop time into a never-ending day.”

  Lily stopped walking and stared at him, shocked all over again. It wasn’t just the situation that upset her, but more so the audacity with which Sebastian blithely involved her in his self-made problems without asking permission first. It was exceedingly rude.

  “Oh, yeah, and we’re stuck here until we find it and stop it. I forgot that part,” he added, giving her an apologetic shrug.

  “Are you absolutely certain?” Lily asked, very slowly, very dangerously. “Because if this is a joke…” she let her words trail off, her implied threat all too obvious.

  “The only certain things in life are death and taxes,” Sebastian quipped, then paused. “Well, and gravity…and Murphy’s law…” he caught her look and, no doubt recognizing the building thundercloud of fury, hurried on. “Yes, I’m certain. And might I point out that if you kill me now you’ll never get out of here alive?”

  Lily glared daggers at him, considering what curses would still leave him able to walk and talk, at least long enough to unravel this mess. As he withered under her gaze, however, she caught a glimpse of the worry hidden under his flippant bravado. He was
in a mess, knew it, and needed her help. So she took a deep breath, reminded herself that curses would not help the situation, and began walking again. He fell into step beside her.

  “Alright,” she said, resigned, “start from the beginning. I want details. And if we ever get out of this, you owe me. Big.”

  Sebastian nodded glumly. Lily suspected he was remembering the last time he’d owed her and she’d called him on it. Well aware of his aversion to physical labor, she’d made him move heavy books. A lot of them. He’d complained, quite loudly, that he was allergic to “book dust.” She’d made him do it anyway.

  “So,” Sebastian began, “I had this artifact—”

  “And where did you get it?” Lily interrupted.

  “Well, I ‘acquired’ it from my brother,” he said evasively.

  “Really? I didn’t know you had a brother.” Her interest was piqued. They rarely discussed personal matters. It was easier to keep things on a professional—well, a working-together level—that way. But she’d always been curious.

  “Yes,” Sebastian said, a note of distaste creeping into his voice. “Older by four years. Always the perfect son. Always Mother and Father’s favorite.”

  Lily raised an eyebrow, unable to pass by such a convenient opportunity to poke at Sebastian’s egotism. “A bit jealous, are you?”

  Sebastian snorted. “He’s a stuck-up prig.”

  “Not like anyone I know,” she muttered.

  “Hey,” he said, feigning hurt. “I am not stuck up. I just have style.”

  That made Lily laugh.

  Sebastian continued. “He always had to do everything just right, be the perfect student, get all the praise. Now he runs some big company or other, making lots of money and charming everybody into thinking he’s a perfect person. But I know better.”