by Luke Metcalf
Once back in the safety of her home she went straight to her bedroom, letting out an involuntary scream when she saw the grotesque little creature from the previous night sitting on her bed, staring at her with a deranged grin on his face. Emily turned and faced the wall, breathing deeply, determined to make him vanish. Maybe he would cease to exist if she didn’t look at him.
“Am I going crazy?” she murmured. She pinched herself but didn’t wake up. She glanced over her shoulder, but the creature was still there, smiling and twiddling his fingers in a childish wave. This time, she dug her fingers into her forearm. “Ow!” Still nothing happened.
“Listen to what I have to say very, very carefully, Emily. You’re putting yourself in terrible danger. Without me you’d probably be dead by now.”
“Go away,” Emily said, screwing her eyes shut.
“Who do you think threw that rock through the window to get you out of that madman’s house? Guess!” He clapped excitedly. “Me! That’s right! Tee-hee-hee.”
How did he know about that? Had that all been part of the dream too? She took a few steps backward and sat on the edge of the bed, still staring at the wall.
“This isn’t a dream,” she said. “I’ve gone insane.”
“No, you are not insane. Far, far from it. Have you never thought that just maybe there is more to the world, to the universe, than meets the eye, Emily? Yes, yes indeed, much more! That maybe all secrets have not been revealed? That the vast majority of the universe’s secrets have not been revealed?”
“Yeah… sure.” Emily muttered, trying to make sense of some part of the experience. “What the hell is going on here?”
“Emily, there are many worlds in existence, and what I’m about to tell you is very important, so please pay attention.”
Finally she looked at him. “You’re a figment of my imagination but okay. I’m listening. Talk.”
“In a world somewhat like this one, a world called Magella, there is a magical artifact called the Well of Many Worlds. It enables the user to travel between worlds.”
“You mean like between planets?” Emily asked, intrigued despite herself.
“Between galaxies and, more importantly, between dimensions, between the very planes of existence! When you were a baby, in a moment of great peril – a matter of life and death – your parents made an important decision. They sent you into the Well of Many Worlds.” The imp paused to gauge her reaction, but Emily just stared at him, so he went on. “Now that you are almost of age it is my duty to teach you the basics of magic. Then, if possible, I will find the Well of Many Worlds and take you back to your home world of Magella to fulfill your great destiny!”
“My great destiny?” Emily burst out laughing. “Okay, now I definitely know this is a dream.” She pinched herself again. “Ow! But why aren’t I waking up when I pinch myself?”
“I know this is a lot to take in, Emily, but don’t worry, everything you need is inside you already.”
“Oh, now you’re a motivational speaker? My mind has created a demented creature as a guru? Why would I create such a weird-looking thing as my guide and mentor?”
“I would prefer it if you would stop referring to me like that,” Mercurios huffed, crossing his arms. “I am an imp.”
“Oh, sorry. Well, since I don’t seem to be able to control the dream and I can’t wake up, I guess I might as well go with it. Okay, Mr. Imp, what messages from my deep subconscious do you bear?”
“The reason that you can’t wake up is because you are already awake, and my name is Mercurios.”
“Okay, Mercurios. Wait… the Id, that’s it!” she exclaimed. “That’s the psychological term. You are a monster from the Id.”
“No, Emily, I am very much real. Anyhow, your parents were being violently attacked by the Lich King of Darguul who sent a group of necromancers—”
“What?”
“Necromancers are wizards that specialize in death magic. Many of them worship the demon Lord Orcus, Prince of the Undead.”
“Ah, okay.”
“The Lich King of Darguul sent necromancers to assassinate your parents. So in desperation, they sent you and your sister and brother into the Well… and, well… you ended up here.”
“Here?” she repeated, her eyes wide.
“Yes, on Earth. Whoosh!” He made a wide arc gesture with his hands. “You just appeared here. When they put you into the Well your parents had no idea where you would end up, which world you’d fall into, whether you’d ever make it back.”
“Okay, not sure how to interpret that. I need to take a psychology class, or dream interpretation or something.”
“Your mother was a wizard, yes, a sorcerer. I was her familiar, and she sent me with you to be your guardian. Yes, yes, yes. And there is more. You—”
“My mom, a witch? A witch?” She chuckled. “Wait ’til she hears that. So, she put me in a well – go on…” Emily crossed her arms, challenging him to convince her with his tall tales, suppressing the tiny part of her that was growing sad to think that she might be losing her mind, imagining how her poor mother would feel when she saw her only daughter being taken away in a straitjacket.
The imp had a strained look on his face. “I was afraid of this,” he muttered. “I must use the memory noodle.”
“What?”
“You are not insane and you are not dreaming, this is real. There is far more to the universe than meets the eye, other worlds with intelligent life. Do you see the little trinket hanging from my necklace?”
Emily saw what looked like a tiny silver treasure chest dangling from a chain. “Yes.”
“Take it off my chain, and put it on the floor.” Emily did as she was told. Once the pendant was on the floor, the imp hopped off the bed and stood looking at it. “Now, since it is yours, you must speak the command words: ‘Almeron sidella.’”
“What? I’m not going to say that!” she said, feeling stupid.
“Just say it, please, Emily!” the imp begged.
“Almeron…” she murmured.
“Sidella,” the imp assisted her quietly.
“Sidella.”
The chest began to grow. It expanded until it took up most of the open space left in her bedroom. Emily stared at it in shock. “What the…?”
“Well,” said Mercurios. “Open it.”
Emily opened the lid. Inside was a large, black, leather-bound book that looked ancient, a gold ring with numerous diamonds embedded in it, a blue marble, a wand and a human skull covered in runes, painted with what looked like blood. Two rubies floated in the eye sockets. There was also what looked like a wet noodle of orange pasta three inches long and one inch wide lying at the bottom of the chest.
“What is all this?” she asked.
“These are rightfully yours.”
“Not sure I want them.”
“Oh, yes, yes, you will want them. That is your mother’s spell book; that is the Ring of Teleportation, that is the Sphere of Protection, and that is the Wand of Lightning. That,” said the imp pointing at the skull, his voice lowering, “is a Skull of Monster Summoning. Very dark and dangerous indeed. And this,” he said picking up the wet noodle, “is the memory noodle. Your mother was concerned that you might not believe me so she included this.” He placed the noodle on his forehead, where it stuck firm, and closed his eyes.
“What are you doing?” Emily asked.
“Shhhh, I’m remembering something.” After a moment the imp took the noodle off his forehead and before she could protest he clamped it to her forehead. “Say the words ‘show me your memories even if they’re horrible.’”
Emily curled her lip and spoke slowly. “Show me your memories even if they’re horrible.”
The noodle flashed a bright orange and Emily was engulfed in a vision.
She found herself in a stone chamber. A man and a woman exploded in through a heavy wooden door, both dressed in cloaks and hoods, wielding wands. The man slammed the door behind them and
slid a thick steel bolt into place. He muttered some words under his breath; sparks rose out of his wand and the door glowed orange for a moment. The two wizards pulled back their hoods. The man was in his late thirties, tall and handsome with pale skin, a narrow face and piercing gray eyes beneath a head of thick, silver hair. The woman was in her late twenties, beautiful with the same pale skin, long, dark hair and eyes that were dark brown, almost black.
They exchanged a glance and strode to a large stone table upon which stood an intricately carved silver bowl, six feet in diameter and filled with a swirling mist, which was constantly forming three-dimensional worlds within worlds within worlds that continuously morphed, dissolved and formed other worlds within worlds. Beside it on the table were three babies wrapped in blankets. Beside one baby stood a white cat with one brilliant amber eye and the other a rich sapphire color, beside another child stood Mercurios and beside the third child sat a small, white owl.
“Do you all understand your instructions?” the woman asked the cat, the owl and the imp.
“Yes,” they replied.
“Remember, you are not to reveal yourselves to them until they are adults,” the man added. “I want them to assimilate to this… other world, in case something goes wrong and they become trapped there. When they are of age you will give them each their magic chest and you will begin to teach them magic. Talia should be all right until then. You-know-who will not awaken until she is an adult. Once they have learned their first grade of spell casting and are able to protect themselves, you will bring them back to Magella to study at the Fengusberry Academy. You must create false identities when you return, as no one must know who they are. If word gets out they are alive they will become famous and that is not something we want until they are ready to strike. When they have completed their training they will reveal their true identities and reclaim the throne of Bravisdor.”
“We understand,” they all responded.
“The moment news of their return spreads everyone will be talking about them,” the woman continued. “Be very careful when and to whom you give this information. First have them secretly find out who are enemies and who are possible allies and then reveal their true identities only when they are fully prepared. Gather allies first and then, when the time is right, reveal to all of Magella who they are and strike. Strike decisively and place the strongest of them on the throne.”
“But what if you are killed and they come through the Well after us?” the imp asked.
“We will try and hide the Well beyond their reach, but if they do you must hide the children from them.”
A deafening explosion made the door shudder, but it held firm. The wizards embraced and kissed passionately as a second explosion shattered the door into countless shards. Six cloaked figures burst through. Brightly colored balls of energy streaked from their wands and filled the air. There was another explosion and a blinding flash.
Emily came out of the vision and stared at Mercurios, stunned. “Whoa.”
“You see?” he said.
“You mean to tell me I’m not of this world, that my wizard parents sent me down a well like a baby basket down a river, and these are the tools of their trade?”
“Yes. And I have been commanded to protect you as best I can, then train you in the basics of wizardry. Then, when you are ready, I will take you back to Magella to be trained properly so you may fulfill your great destiny and crush all who oppose you. Crush them unmerciful!” he shook his little fist in the air.
“You said I had a brother and sister, what about them?”
“Unfortunately they and their familiars did not make it through. We were the first into the Well and just as we were put in I was knocked unconscious by the blast of magic energy. Now, the blue marble thing there, when activated, will create a Sphere of Protection around you, a ten-foot diameter bubble of a force field to protect you from anything not magical or enchanted. It will shield you from any type of element or weather or indirect attack, such as an object thrown at you by an attacker. Unfortunately, it will not protect you against a direct physical assault by a living or undead being or a magical attack.”
“Holy crap,” Emily laughed, forgetting her skepticism as she picked up the beautiful, sparkling ring and inspected it more closely. “And this is a magical ring? Are you serious? If this is real this is… wow… like… I have a magic ring? And a wand? That is so cool. How can this not be a dream?”
“The Ring of Teleportation,” the imp went on with his tutorial, seeing that he now had her attention, “will immediately transport you and whatever you are touching to any place in this world you can clearly and precisely visualize. Precisely. Although it does take time to activate. If the image is not detailed enough, you could end up somewhere else, or worse, you could disintegrate.”
“I seeeee.”
“Now, the Wand of Lightning will unleash a powerful lightning bolt at whatever you point it toward, when you speak the command words.”
Emily put the ring back and stared at the wand then at the skull. “I wish I could speak to my fathers ghost and find out exactly what happened and what ‘Vadas Asger’ is.” She reached out with both hands and picked up the skull.
“Emily, no!” the imp cried and lunged at her but it was too late.
Eight
Paris, France, 1789
When Mitchell told Fionn what he had learned from reading the memories of the thugs, Fionn ordered that the princess be notified and called an emergency meeting of all the members of the Niveus Gladius who were in or near Paris. He invited Mitchell to come to the meeting so that he could introduce him to some of the knights of the Niveus Gladius.
The following evening the two of them rode through the night, traveling deep into the countryside to the east of the city. The skies were clear and the stars shone like frozen diamonds. After several hours of hard riding, they left the dirt path they had been following to cut across open countryside. In the distance, Mitchell noticed the flickering flames of a bonfire. As they approached he could see people standing around the fire, their horses tethered nearby to a huge, fallen tree.
Steam rose off their horses’ backs as they dismounted. Two vampires approached them and Fionn held up a hand in silent greeting. In all, eleven vampires were waiting around the fire, seven men and four women. Mitchell recognized Lord Ruthen, who smiled at the sight of him.
“Ah, our young friend has come to visit.”
They all took seats around the fire. They came from all over Europe, all of them dressed as warriors in the style of their homelands. All had ash-pale skin, fangs and eyes that glittered with the reflected flames.
“Here is the one I have been telling you about,” Fionn announced. “Mitchell Keats.”
An Italian named Abrielle, rose from her seat and stood before Mitchell, so close he could smell her skin. She scanned him up and down. He returned her bold stare, admiring her shoulder-length black hair, dark eyes and full red lips.
“Well, you certainly are a handsome one,” she whispered. “Welcome. I hope that you are intending on staying a while.”
Some of the vampires, like Lord Ruthen and Abrielle, were friendly. Others simply stared at him, giving nothing away of what they were thinking. Fionn explained to the group how Mitchell was about to enter the final phase of his training.
“We have reason to believe that Baelaar and a large force of Initiates are going after Princess Katharina,” he informed them. “I have summoned her here. But if she does not arrive tonight we will have to go after her and try to reach her before it’s too late. Does anyone know of a place in Russia known as the Vadas Asger?”
The vampires all shrugged and shook their heads.
“Do those words mean anything to anyone?” Fionn pressed them.
One of the vampires held up a warning hand and they all fell entirely silent, listening intently. At first Mitchell couldn’t hear anything except the crackling of the flames and the snorts of the horses as they grazed, then he
made out the distinct sound of hooves approaching at speed.
“Someone is getting close but I cannot read their mind,” Lord Ruthen said. “Let us hope it is the princess.”
Out of the darkness rode a girl who looked no more than seventeen years old. Her long, blonde hair streamed behind her and her face looked tired from the rigors of her journey. Dressed in the white robes of a handmaiden, she was mounted on an ivory-colored stallion that glowed orange in the light of the fire.
“It’s Snowdrop Windflower,” Fionn told Mitchell.
“I come with news,” Snowdrop announced. “My Lady sends this message for you.”
She handed Fionn a wax-sealed letter. He tore the seal open and read the letter.
“My god!” he said and looked back at Snowdrop. “Do you know if any of the others are with her?”
“No,” the girl replied. “She went ahead alone.”
“Reckless,” Fionn muttered to himself, shaking his head. He turned to the group. “It seems that the princess has discovered some documents of the first vampire. She believes she knows the location of the Well of Many Worlds. She believes it is in the Kungur Ice Caves in Russia and urgently requests our help in finding it. She is on her way there now.”
For a moment the others gazed at one another uneasily, considering the implications of the news. Mitchell felt a burning excitement building inside him.
“Do you know of a place called the Vadas Asger?” Fionn asked Snowdrop.
“I have never heard of this place,” she replied, handing him some ancient-looking documents. “The princess found these. They are pages from the diary of one of the ancient ones.”
Fionn took the fragile documents, unfolded them carefully and started reading them out loud.
“The author’s name is Selina. It says: ‘The following is the account my master gave me of his transformation: One winter night, around the year 1100, somewhere in Eastern Europe he was walking in the hills, returning to his village from an unsuccessful hunt, when he saw an explosion of electrical energy on a nearby hilltop. The light from this energy illuminated the hills and valleys for miles around. Even the countless stars shimmering above seemed dim by comparison. He waded forward through the drifts of freshly fallen snow that covered the land to locate the source of the light. When he reached the top of the hill, he stumbled upon a ferocious battle between a pale-skinned man wearing black plate-mail armor of exquisite workmanship and wielding a flaming sword, and a skeletal creature with glowing green orbs in its eye sockets, wearing a golden crown and tattered royal robes, holding a black scepter that seemed to exude a terrible darkness.