Once Upon a Quest

by Anthea Sharp

  The depth of emotion behind the five simple words took Vale Hallowell by surprise, especially considering who said them. Victor had a tendency to overstate and dramatize. The trait had been burnished into his personality by a lifetime of immense privilege and vast wealth. Because vast power marched alongside vast wealth, ignoring him was often dangerous, however, letting him believe he had the upper hand could be equally problematic.

  “That’s not really true, is it?”

  Victor scowled while bright moonlight streamed through jagged holes in the lingerie store windows. With his round, bald head, flat features and a squashed nose, he looked something like a frog. A pale frog with light blue eyes wearing a ten-thousand-dollar suit and a crisp white shirt.

  “You never take me seriously,” Victor complained.

  “I’m here, aren’t I?” Not that it was convenient or smart to waste time on one of Victor Chandler’s pet projects. In the past, he’d been an excellent source of information on cases where Vale had been stonewalled or shut down for one reason or another. She’d been able to trust Victor to come up with sources she’d never have gained access to on her own. He wasn’t a resource she wanted to lose just when the war she was fighting was starting to heat up. When Victor had asked her to investigate the scene of an attack on his daughter, she’d agreed.

  Vale stepped over a fallen mannequin. Something—a laser or possibly balefire—had blasted through the mannequin’s vinyl composite chest. Ruined carpeting peeked through the soccer ball-sized hole. Three shiny chrome display racks had been tumbled like children’s toys. Lacy bras and panties, some still attached to clear plastic hangers, were scattered like random flowers in a field. The scene might have looked like an ordinary party gone wrong (tragically, for the mannequin) if not for the traces of the blood of a revenant.

  “Good news first: no one died here.”

  “I didn’t ask you here to give me the same answers I could get from some flat-footed, half-assed cop.”

  She shrugged. “Talked to many cops lately, Victor?”

  “Yeah. I can’t pry anything useful out of them.”

  Vale kept going, sensing the scene, and tracing the remnants of spent power.

  Victor followed her. “So, who was it? Who tried to kill my Lucy?”

  “Would you happen to know if any of your friends or enemies have recently come back from the dead?”

  Victor snorted. “You mean like they’re fresh out of hell and the first thing they do is pop off an email to me?”

  “Not exactly. I’m guessing if someone you knew returned, they’d find a way to make contact. Even if the attempt failed, you might sense something.”

  “Would I now? Huh.” He rubbed his bald head. “You really think I’d know?”

  Vale nodded.

  “Can’t say that I recall anything like that.”

  Vale paced to the rear of the display space and then over to the changing rooms where the doors hung at odd angles. Deep gouges marred the wooden surface that looked like they’d been made by huge claws. Whispering a few words under her breath, Vale passed her hand over the surface. With the spell and the movement of her hand, the scratches lighted in a shimmery green that held for a moment before fading.

  It was as she’d suspected. Someone had unleashed a revenant, a creature brought back from the dead, inside the pretty lingerie store on a Friday afternoon. The fact that no one had died as a result was nearly a miracle. Victor’s daughter, Lucy, had been working at the time. He’d already explained that bodyguards—the ordinary human sort—had made the bullet holes. Safeguarding the daughter of a billionaire wasn’t unusual, especially if the billionaire’s daughter wanted to pretend to work a minimum wage retail job.

  The attack had been evil and premeditated, requiring a massive outlay of magick and power simply to raise the revenant in the first place, not counting what must have been used in the actual assault. If someone wanted to hurt Victor by killing his daughter, there were far easier ways to get the job done.

  Vale stepped over another fallen mannequin, this one with her head blown off. “Who else was in the store at the time?”

  “One customer with her little dog and the store manager, but he was in the back and claims not to have seen anything.”

  “And the woman walked away without a scratch? What about the dog?”

  “Who cares about the freaking dog?” Victor glared at her. “We’ve already established that no one died and that includes the mutt. Get on with it. Do your witch juju and go after whoever did this.”

  Vale scowled right back at him. “Magic doesn’t work like that. I can’t follow a trail like a bloodhound.”

  “Then what am I paying you for?”

  “First, you’re not paying me. I’m doing you a favor. I’m doing that favor because I believe attacking children and innocent people is fundamentally wrong. Stopping the monsters who hurt others is all the way inside my wheelhouse.”

  “Screw your wheelhouse. I want you to use your magic to kill whoever’s behind this attack!”

  “I’m not going to do that.”

  “That’s a problem.” Victor advanced on her.

  “It’s not a problem. Your problem is the revenant used in the attack, the revenant, and the dark magician who raised that revenant. The dark magician didn’t dig up any old dead body and fire it up with blood magick. She—and it was a she, not a he—raised someone with a connection to you. Who specifically, I couldn’t say without resorting to very dark magick, which I’m not going to do. However, I can tell you it was someone known to you in life. It could be a family member, even a distant one, possibly someone you weren’t aware was a relative. If not family, it might have been a former lover or someone with whom you were intimate.”

  “What does all that matter?”

  “The revenant wasn’t after your daughter, Victor. You were the target.”

  “I wasn’t even here!”

  “Sure about that?”

  Vale gave him some time to think and pace. “Final answer?”

  “Okay, okay, I was here, but I didn’t want Lucy to know. I didn’t want her to think I was spying on her. How did you know?”

  “I wasn’t sure until you told me. I also knew that if your daughter had been the target of an attack by a powerful revenant in close quarters such as this store, she’d be dead. Period. I’m not even sure anyone on my team could have defended against this revenant.”

  Victor’s expression was unreadable. “What do I do now?”

  “If you want the revenant stopped, you’re going to have to do the job yourself. Fortunately, you’re in the perfect situation to be able to do that.”

  “On account of my condition?”

  “It’s not a condition, Victor, it’s permanent. That doesn’t mean you’re helpless.”

  He rubbed his head again and sighed. “This is all so new. I don’t even know where to start.”

  She pointed at the deep scratches on the changing room doors. “Follow the revenant’s trail. It’s still fresh. That’s something you can do that I can’t. I’m not a tracker.”

  “What do I do when I find it?”

  “Don’t worry about that yet. Find the revenant and the dark magician first. Baby steps.”

  “When I find that sucker,” Victor said as he floated through the wall, “I’m calling you.”

  The only thing worse than a billionaire with a grudge was a dead billionaire with a grudge.

  * * *

  With my buddy Kyle opting to keep his job over letting me inside to see Jack, the decision to go with JD to meet with Vale Hallowell was a simple one. My only other way back home was on foot. With a demon on my trail that didn’t seem like a viable option. I was also certain the evil geniuses weren’t going to release Jack any time soon and time was what I needed to figure out a way around the security at AFAR. In the meantime why pass up a chance to meet a legend?

  A little under two hours later, we arrived in South Portland and navigated to the wa
terfront. JD parked his truck on a dark side street. Fancy apartment buildings towered all around us. The storefronts on the ground level were closed and dark except for one. Of course, that was where JD led me. Police barricades and stretches of yellow tape blocked the sidewalk. He climbed over them; I ducked under. We met in front of a broken shop window where the overhead sign read, Cherry Blossom, Fine Lingerie.

  Vale Hallowell was waiting for us inside. Light from a nearly full moon shone through the broken windows. A security lamp high on the wall in the rear of the store provided the only other illumination.

  I think I was probably expecting someone who looked like she stepped off the poster for a superhero movie. Vale and I weren’t all that different—both tall, she was maybe an inch under my five-ten—both with athletic builds and dark hair, mine mid-length and choppy layers; hers long, smooth, and fastened in a low pony tail. Where I have blue eyes, hers were green. Where I was lean and angular and look like I was built for running, she appeared stronger, like someone you wouldn’t want to cross. She wore jeans, low-heeled boots, and a light jacket.

  To JD, “You’re late.” Her gaze cut to me, taking in my disheveled appearance. “Next time, waste a few minutes on a shower. The world isn’t ending just yet.”

  I swallowed. “I … um, yeah. It’s an honor to meet you. I remember all the stories your aunt told my class in high school. They were very inspiring.”

  JD made a rude noise.

  Vale gave him a side eye. “Remind me to have a chat with Aunt Sibyl.”

  I looked down at the floor; hoping whatever had wrecked the store had opened a hole so I could crawl inside it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend. JD said you needed my help. I can’t imagine what it is I can do for you but …”

  “Walk with me.” Vale strode out onto the sidewalk.

  I caught up with her and walked beside her. We paced a short distance to the end of the block and turned right, heading for a greenway that paralleled the river.

  Vale pointed north and east. “Look south of the bridge and over the water.”

  I squinted. “What am I looking for?”

  “Just tell me what you see.”

  “It’s dark. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be looking for.” And I’m dying inside because this is Vale Hallowell, and I’m an idiot and now Vale Hallowell knows I’m an idiot.

  “The dark is all I see, Stevie. You can see more than the dark. All you have to do is give yourself a chance.”

  “See more …”

  I trailed off, my jaw dropping when Vale lifted her open palm. A blue flame burned there.

  “How did you …”

  “Try to see again.” She closed her fist and made a throwing motion as if she were hurling a baseball.

  For a moment—nothing—then a ripple passed through the vista before me and something new appeared. A new vision or a new way of seeing? I couldn’t say. I couldn’t think clearly. All I could do was gasp softly and take it all in: A shimmering grid of lines that crisscrossed the landscape. They intersected with the bridge, the boats below, and the cars speeding over the bridge. They wrapped around the moon and descended into the earth. They rocked and rippled with the river and flowed with the night breeze. Tiny bats chasing insects were points of light buzzing along the grid. From a cluster of tents below on the riverbank came a burst of sparks that sizzled against the iridescent grid.

  I reached with one hand. I wasn’t sure what I was doing, but something impelled me to touch.

  “Not yet. Wait.”

  I looked at Vale. “Do you see it, too?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not a tracker.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “We can talk about that later. Right now, look closely where I said before and tell me what you see.”

  “There’s nothing there. I mean the grid doesn’t go there. It’s like it’s blank. Negative space or whatever.”

  “Go deeper. Imagine you’re using a camera with a zoom lens.”

  If this was helping her, it was very strange. It seemed more like some wacky visualization exercise, but what the heck.

  “Oh, wow. Okay, that works. You’re right. It’s not blank.”

  “Go out there.” Vale’s voice was soft and reassuring. “You can do this.”

  I went deeper, further, until I imagined I was walking the grid high above the river, following a line until I reached the midway point. As carefully as a tightrope walker, I made a quarter turn until I faced the blank spot. It wasn’t blank anymore. Closer, I could see a wedge of dark orange and yellow light that flickered on and off like a dying light bulb.

  I felt a hand on my shoulder and Vale’s voice over my left shoulder. “Good job, you did it. Do you think you can hold?”

  “Hold what?”

  “Position.”

  “What?”

  Then I looked down.

  This wasn’t my imagination. I was standing on nothing, absolutely nothing. Updrafts from the river below ruffled my hair. I closed my eyes while a scream boiled in my throat.

  “Breathe, Stevie. You’re safe. You can do this.”

  “No. No, this is …”

  “We’re here, Stevie. You’re not alone.”

  I opened my eyes. Vale still stood next to me, stood with me on the nothing, and she was right. We weren’t alone.

  Two others had joined us—a woman with blond hair and white wings and a giant of a man carrying a short, broad sword that glittered as if it had been made from the same stuff as the grid. I didn’t know them, had never seen them before, but utter calm and serenity radiated from them, especially from the woman.

  “If you can hold position, Stevie, we can take it from here. Can you hold?”

  “Take it … where?”

  Vale gestured toward the blank place, the wedge of roiling orange light.

  “It looks bad.”

  She nodded. “It is bad. If you can hold, we can fix it.”

  I felt like a two-year-old asked to keep steady pressure on a brake pedal. “How long?”

  “We’ll be fast and you won’t be alone.” Vale pointed down. As she did so, the grid line supporting us winked back into view. I followed the line west until it sloped down toward the river. Where it met land, I saw JD. His feet were planted wide. With both hands, he gripped the iridescence as if it were a real rope. A wave of reassurance swept through me.

  “He won’t let go.”

  “I can hold, then.” My voice was shaky. I was pretty sure I was going to puke when this was all over. If I didn’t fall to my death and drown.

  Vale slipped past me and disappeared into the dark place. The winged woman and the giant followed her and then I was alone high above the river. I looked for JD again and found him and I kept my gaze trained on him until it was over.

  * * *

  Dawn rose over the city while I sat on a bench in a tiny park a few blocks from the waterfront. A light misty rain fell on my face but I didn’t care. JD sat next to me on the bench. Vale stood a few feet away on the sidewalk.

  I wrapped my arms around my middle and tried not to shiver. “You tricked me.”

  Vale grimaced. “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  She glanced away, then back again and sighed. “I needed a tracker. That means I needed someone to track the grid in a specific location and hold the pathway open for my team.”

  “And that makes it okay to have your …” I wanted to call JD a thug or something equally distasteful. I couldn’t do it. Without his steady presence on the other end of the grid line last night, I might have lost it and fallen. “That makes it okay to kidnap me and trick me into doing something dangerous? And that’s not even mentioning whatever it was you were doing, which I can’t talk about because I have no clue what you were doing.”

  “You’re right, Stevie. It’s not okay. It’s not the way I like to do things, which you should know since you paid such close attention in Aunt Sibyl’s class.” One corner of her mouth quirked upw
ard. If she expected a smile from me in return, she was talking to the wrong person. I was cold and getting wetter by the minute and in no mood to be compliant.

  “How can I help you?” she asked.

  “I want to know why you dragged me into this and then I want to go home.”

  “The place over the river that I asked you to find,” Vale began, “was a rip in the world. A tear in the universe. It’s through such places that creatures from other realms, other realities, have been able to enter our world. Sometimes they’re harmless. Other times they’re like the demon that took over the body of the man who was after you yesterday. My team finds the holes, the tears, the cracks, and we fix them. That’s what we did last night. It was a big rip, one that allowed a dark magician to use blood magick to create great evil. We needed to close it as fast as possible before anything else came through.”

  “So why did you need me?”

  “Last night when I told you all I can see is the dark, I told the truth. I meant it literally. My gift is darkness. I find evil. In order to find the light, I need someone to show me the way and that means I need a tracker. Normally, we have one on the team. We lost ours recently.”

  “How?”

  “The hard way.” JD scowled. “The same way we would have lost you if that demon had found you first.”

  “So you knew about me from your aunt? Because of the class I took?”

  Vale nodded.

  “And no one bothered to fill me in? That’s pretty cold, you ask me.”

  “I’m sorry you feel betrayed. You did something brave and strong and good last night. I didn’t say anything to you beforehand because I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me or you’d clutch in the middle. There was no time for training. I had to get that rip closed first. I had to trust my gut that you were as strong as I suspected. You came through, Stevie. We got the job done. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

  It was hard to admit, but she was right about clutching. I probably would have freaked at exactly the wrong time. If she’d tried to explain everything first and convince me I could do anything close to what had actually happened, I would have laughed. I still wasn’t entirely sure the whole thing wasn’t an extremely vivid hallucination.