The Well of Many Worlds

by Luke Metcalf

  “Well, Chanel, it’s like this. Valerun daia karmellun.” Emily spoke the words while looking deep into Chanel’s eyes and making a series of simple gestures with her hands. As she spoke she focused on feeling and channeling the energy of the world all around her, like Mercurios had taught her. In a moment her hands were glowing with blue, magical energy and she directed it at Chanel. Chanel’s eyes glazed over before she could protest, and Emily wondered if the charm spell had worked already.

  “Chanel?”

  “Very good, Emily,” giggled Mercurios. “Well done, indeed! Will you make her drink poison?”

  “No!”

  “Yes, I’m Chanel.” A big, happy, brainless smile spread across Chanel’s pretty, pouting lips.

  Wow! Emily couldn’t believe her own magical powers.

  “Chanel, it’s extremely hot in the school, and you have an intense desire to strip naked and run through the halls shouting, ‘I am Chanel Boxer, Queen of the Idiots!’”

  The imp cackled with devilish glee. “Yes, Emily! Brilliant. I cannot wait until you learn spells of power and destruction, then we will really have such fun! Crush them unmerciful!” He shook his little fist in the air.

  Chanel gave another broad, vacant smile. “Yes, that’s exactly what I want to do!”

  As she began getting undressed Emily hurried out of the classroom, walked a few yards down the hall and then stopped, leaning against a wall, trying to look casual.

  A couple of moments later, Chanel came running and skipping out of the classroom, stark naked, crying at the top of her lungs with glee, “I am Chanel Boxer, Queen of the Idiots! Welcome, all idiots! I am your queen!”

  All the students walking to and from their classes stood and stared in utter astonishment at the sight. The sound of laughter and cheering spread through the corridors as people called their friends out to enjoy the spectacle and, best of all, pulling out their cell phones to take pictures. Chanel continued on her happy way, proclaiming again and again her idiotic rulership. As she disappeared down another corridor, the halls behind her remained alive with chatter and laughter. Emily burst out laughing and followed after her.

  A couple of minutes later Chanel had slowed down to a walk. Emily wondered if maybe the spell was already wearing off. Chanel then stopped and stood in the middle of the hallway surrounded by dozens of shocked and delighted students. The smile faded from her face as she returned to the real world and looked down at her naked body. There was a moment of nearly complete silence, and then an earth-shattering shriek erupted from deep inside her.

  Down the hall, Emily spotted Mr. North, the assistant principal, making his way toward them. “I found her,” his deep voice reported into his walkie-talkie.

  Chanel frantically tried to cover herself with her elegant, fluttering hands as she looked in every direction at the laughing faces, lost in a state of utter confusion and horror. Finally, she turned and ran screaming down the hall, straight into Mr. North’s waiting arms.

  “Gotcha,” he crowed. “All right, miss, your streaking days are over. Come with me.”

  Emily stumbled into the bathroom, laughing so hard the tears streamed down her face. The imp rolled around on the counter, rubbing his belly and cackling with delight.

  “Yes! So much like your mother indeed!”

  Emily stopped laughing. “What did you say?”

  He continued to cackle. “Ah, what fun! Yes, you are so like your mother – she had a wonderfully wicked sense of humor too, dark and deadly indeed. That is what I liked most about her.”

  “What did I just do?” Emily asked her reflection in the mirror in a whisper. “Am I becoming just like Chanel? Or… am I becoming like my real mother? Or is it the demon waking up?”

  The thought disturbed and disgusted her. “I am Emily Bliss, that is who I am.”

  Shaken, she turned on the tap and ran the water until it was as cold as possible, then washed her face off in the sink. Suddenly, she longed for her mother, whoever she was. She wished she could’ve known the woman who actually gave birth to her.

  But there was a nagging fear in the back of her mind that her mother was evil and that the spell book itself was changing her, turning her into someone who wouldn’t even recognize her former self. Was it helping to awaken the demon? The desire to learn magic and the fear of what she might become if she spent too much time with that spell book was starting to torment her.

  “I will be using magic to do good though,” she told herself for the hundredth time.

  “Yes,” continued Mercurios, looking at her. “So much like your mother, you look like her too, your hair, your body, your cheekbones… but not your eyes, no,” he whispered at her ominously.

  Emily stood in a daze, staring into space, water dripping down her face, contemplating the magnitude of what the imp was saying. Then she snapped out of it.

  “Enough, Mercurios!” she shouted. “My name is Emily Bliss and my father was the kind, decent, gentle, loving, honorable man who raised me and showed me love, and my mother is the woman who I’ve known all my life and they would be ashamed if I turned into some kind of petty tyrant or vengeful psycho!”

  “Fair enough,” tittered Mercurios. “But once you have a delicious taste of power—”

  “I will still remain true to who I am,” she cut him off. “End of discussion.” She turned and left without waiting for a reply. As she walked out of the bathroom, she ran into Tom.

  “Hey, Emily – what’s up?”

  “Oh, hey, Tom.” Emily smiled, but the sight of him stirred a number of conflicting emotions inside her. She still really liked him and found him incredibly attractive in so many ways, and the fact that he was a regular human being from Earth was somehow very comforting. Being near him made her feel as if she had her feet on the ground, that she was still the Emily Bliss she had always known, living in a familiar world, and she liked that. Yet at the same time, when she thought about the other boy a very different level of desire rose inside her, raging through every square inch of her body.

  “Did you see what Chanel just did?” Tom said, a puzzled look crossing his handsome face.

  “No,” she lied, “what’s going on?”

  “I think she must be wasted or something. She was running through the school naked.”

  “No way!” Emily feigned surprise. “Uh, listen, I have to go – my mom’s expecting me.”

  She knew Tom was watching her go, probably wondering what was going on with her, whether or not she was still interested in him, but she couldn’t think abut him at the moment. She was obsessed with the young man from her dreams. She would have loved to hang out with Tom, and have him close to her right now, but what bubbled deep inside was a cauldron of confusion.

  When Emily got home she sat down glumly in a chair in her bedroom looking at a picture of her father. She knew he’d be disappointed in her if he’d seen her be so cruel to another person, even Chanel Boxer. Since Emily was little, he’d taught her to feel empathy for the pain and struggles of other people, even when those people seemed unworthy of it. He had taught her that it was better to try to understand why they hurt you than to hurt them back. But even as she remembered that and hung her head in shame, she felt herself growing angry again. Wasn’t it that same compassion that let people like Sammy to betray people like her father? If instead of standing up to the Chanel Boxers of the world she spent her time trying to understand “their pain,” wasn’t she in danger of letting them win? Had her father’s kindness and trust been what ultimately led to his death? Was it kindness or was it… cowardice?

  She felt terrible even thinking such a thing. She knew it wasn’t really her father she was angry at. It was Sammy. She was convinced that he had betrayed her father, and she had to go and confront him. Sammy was supposed to be her father’s friend. It enraged her that her father’s trust had been betrayed so cruelly. She was outraged at the thought of Sammy and the killers getting away with what they had done.

  “Maybe I ca
n shame him into confessing to the police that Cady killed my father,” she thought. “Or maybe if I use my charm spell on him, I can force him to tell them everything he knows. At least then I’d be using my power for good.”

  At dinner with her mother that night, Emily was quiet and thoughtful. Then she said, “Mom, can I ask you something?”

  “Of course, dear.”

  “If someone was pushing you around, would you, you know, push back?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just in general, if someone pushed you, I mean really pushed you… would you fight back, or just take it?”

  Her mother sighed and put down her fork. “Emily, I know that life as a teenager can seem very… dramatic, and these things seem really important to you right now. But when you grow up, you won’t even remember this, whatever it is.”

  “I’m not talking about the future. I’m talking about now.”

  “But, darling, what’s important is your future, your career. The things that are going to be important to you later on are whether you got good grades and—”

  Emily pushed her chair back hard so that it screeched along the tile floor. “So you’re saying that the only thing that matters is the future, and the stuff that happens now isn’t important?”

  “No, no, not at all. What I’m saying is: the things that are important now are the things that create a solid foundation for your future.”

  “So everything I do now is only important if it works out ten years from now?”

  “Well, in a way—”

  “What if it’s the same way in ten years?”

  “What?”

  “What if in ten years I’m thinking that whatever I’m doing then is only important if it provides a solid future ten years from then, and then ten years after that, I’m thinking that whatever I’m doing then is only important if it works out ten years after that? Does the ‘now’ ever matter?”

  Her mother shook her head, frustrated. “Listen, honey, trust me. When you grow up, you’ll laugh at all these things that seem so important to you right now. You just don’t understand.”

  Emily suddenly felt furious. “You know what, Mom? Maybe this family wouldn’t have turned out to be such a disaster if Dad had stood up to you!”

  “What?” Her mother’s eyes narrowed.

  “You heard me. Nothing he ever did was good enough for you. You knew he was a simple-hearted man when you married him. But you relentlessly drove him to make more money, more money, more money, and it was never enough; a bigger car, a nicer house, that’s all you ever cared about. He wanted so much to make you happy – he tried his best but the more he tried, the more you made him feel he wasn’t good enough, that he would never be good enough.” Tears welled up in Emily’s eyes and her voice quavered.

  She stormed out the front door. Her mother shouted after her but Emily didn’t hesitate as she got in her car and backed out of the driveway. She knew exactly where she was going.

  “This may be a very bad idea, Emily.” Mercurios appeared in the passenger seat.

  “I have to do this.” As she paused at a red light her phone rang. It was Tom.

  “Hey, let’s get together tonight,” he said.

  “Actually, I’m on my way to confront my dad’s so-called friend, Sammy, at the warehouse where he works. I think he was involved in his murder.”

  “Let me help you then.”

  “What?” Emily was caught off guard by this offer. “No. Thanks, but I really don’t want to lay my problems on someone else’s shoulders.”

  “Emily, I want to make sure nobody hurts you.”

  “No, really, I’ll be fine.”

  “My offer is just as much for myself as it is for you. I’ll worry about you a lot less if I’m there with you.”

  She liked the idea of seeing him but her conflicting desires made her feel it was impossible right now.

  “Thanks, Tom, but really, you don’t have to worry. I have to go.” She hung up.

  She left her car in a parking lot just down the road from the warehouse and walked across the two empty lots, giving herself time to gather her thoughts and gain some courage.

  “Emily, I must insist you reconsider,” said Mercurios from her shoulder.

  “I have to do this. I have to confront him. If it goes wrong, I’ll use my wand and my ring.”

  The sun was setting and the clouds on the horizon were lit up as though they had been set on fire. She walked toward the warehouse side entrance, shivering a bit from the cold breeze blowing in off the water. She felt uneasy, but her anger propelled her forward. She pushed open the heavy steel door. Inside was a huge, empty, brightly lit warehouse.

  “Sammy!” she shouted, trying to sound fearless.

  Nobody answered, but she could see a figure in the upstairs office standing with his back to the window that overlooked the warehouse floor, having an animated conversation on the phone. Her heart thumped in her chest and her adrenal glands told her that she should be afraid, that she should turn around, run out to her car and drive home, but she ignored them and climbed the stairs to the office. A far stronger emotion than fear took over. She was gripped by rage as the memory of her father’s photos, of his corpse, filled her mind.

  When she reached the top of the stairs, she flung the office door open. The man was just hanging up the phone. He spun around and gaped at her. “Emily! What are you doing here?”

  The office was a mess. A big desk against the far wall was covered in stacks of paper. Boxes were piled haphazardly under the window. Crumpled pieces of paper littered the floor. High above the big desk was another, smaller window overlooking the parking lot. It was open and letting in the chilly night air. Glancing out through the window Emily was momentarily stunned to see Tom’s Jeep pull up.

  “Emily!” said Sammy, a look of worry crossing his face. “You gotta get out of here!”

  “I want to know why you aren’t helping the police put Cady Sunner in jail, especially since it was you who betrayed my father!” Emily cried, her fists clenched and tears streaming down her face. She hated that she always cried when she was furious. It was so humiliating. “He’s dead because of you, isn’t he?”

  Sammy held his hands up. “Emily, I swear I had no idea they would, but” – he glanced furtively through the window to the warehouse floor – “listen, you have to get out of here!”

  “So it was Cady who killed him.” She strode up to Sammy and slapped him across the face as hard as she could. “Do you know what they did to him?” she shouted. “Did you see what they did to my father?”

  He stared at her, too shocked to speak.

  “You were supposed to be his friend! My father never hurt anyone. He was…”

  Emily’s voice caught in her throat. Sammy grabbed her by the shoulders.

  “I swear, I didn’t know they would kill him. I only just met them, and now I’m trapped too. I… I have a family—”

  She whipped out her wand and, hearing the sound of feet on the steps, swung round just as Tom appeared at the door.

  “Tom, I told you to stay away!”

  “I made you a promise. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you again.”

  “Who is this?” Sammy asked.

  “Is this guy bothering you?” Tom looked menacingly at the older man.

  “What is ‘Vadas Asger’?” asked Emily turning back to face Sammy.

  The sound of the main door of the warehouse rolling back made them all turn. A convoy of five SUVs and six forklifts carrying huge crates drove inside and parked. About twenty-five men emerged from the SUVs and began helping the forklift drivers unload the crates and break them open with crowbars while six more vans drove in.

  Sammy’s face turned pale. He grabbed Emily again, shaking her. “You have to hide! If they find you here, they’ll kill you!”

  Eighteen

  Sammy pushed Emily roughly behind the pile of boxes under the window.

  “Keep quiet and keep your head down!” he h
issed before straightening up to meet the visitors coming up the steps to the office.

  Tom crouched down beside her. “What’s going on?” he whispered.

  “I don’t know,” she said, peeping cautiously through the window that overlooked the warehouse floor. The men absorbed in opening up the crates looked East Asian, while the men who’d poured out of the vans were all white and seemed to be speaking to one another in Russian. It was impossible to do an accurate headcount but there now seemed to be about fifty Russians and thirty of the East Asians. A number of the men in each group were carrying guns.

  Emily remembered Detective Scannel talking about the Russian mob and Chinese Triads moving into the Portland area. Two men, who appeared to be their leaders, burst into the office, talking together in low voices as the others kept working below. Sammy stood waiting for them to address him, obviously terrified. A side door Emily hadn’t seen before opened and a tall, well-dressed man entered and headed for the office steps.

  “Mr. Denman!” Emily whispered.

  “Bethany’s father?” said Tom. “What’s he doing here?”

  “I don’t know.”

  There were more men running up the steps to the office. One was Cady Sunner and another the pale-faced man from Cady Sunner’s house, and who she had seen at the club, followed close behind, carrying a briefcase. There was also a third man. Emily recognized him from the picture Detective Scannel had shown her. He was the man known as Commander Claw. The pale-faced man with the briefcase was speaking to Cady.

  “We are wasting a lot of time here. Just remember, none of this would be necessary if you had exercised more self control.”

  Emily strained her ears to catch every word.

  “This whole mess is on your head,” he continued. “It would’ve been easy for me to extract the information, but not once he was dead.”

  Emily felt sick to her stomach and had to exercise intense self-control not to throw up right there. Her head was swimming with a million thoughts.

  “If you had come sooner,” Cady snarled, “things might have been different. I couldn’t wait forever.”