Shadow Realms

by M K Mancos

  My heart danced and sank at the same time. Such conflicting emotions—but then this was Malachi Sayer in front of me. Every emotion I’ve ever had for and about him has been conflicted. “You promise.”

  “It'll be the first project I work on after we seal the gate.”

  “Well…all right.” I reached up with a feigned reluctance to take it off.

  Malachi reached out and stayed my hand. “Don’t take it off yet. Do it once we’re down in the tunnels and have the gate secured. You might need it until then.”

  Hearing that didn’t exactly instill confidence on what we were up against, but at least Astrid and the Convention were on it as well. We wouldn’t be outnumbered or outmanned. At least I didn’t think so. Perhaps we would be. I had no way of knowing because I had no clue how many agents were normally in the area and how long it took ones outside the area to answer a call to action. Plus, in this reality, there hadn’t been an insurgence of time wells opening all over the city and surrounding boroughs.

  We went over the spell step by step and gathered what items we could manage in the hideout.

  I pointed to one odd listing that was followed by a rather intricate recipe. “What’s that supposed to make?”

  Malachi glanced at the paper. “That’s the substance we have to place in the cracks along the surface of the seal.”

  “What? Like supernatural epoxy?”

  “In a word; yes.”

  “This is going to take us a while to prepare.”

  “If we’re going to do it right, it will.” He picked up the next page. “And I really want to do this right, so we don’t have to do it again in our lifetimes.”

  He yelled for Astrid. No answer. He put his hands on his knees and stood. “Come on. Let’s see if we can find the stores of magical goods I know they have stashed here.”

  I rose and followed him. We checked in several rooms before coming to one that looked like a very old mudroom would on an old abandon house. The jars and tins were dusty, and lids rusted in place.

  “How can they let things get like this?” Malachi rubbed his hands on his jeans after handling one of the jars. Cobwebs clung to the side of his pants when he turned. “I doubt anything in here is going to work. Too old and not labeled. I wouldn’t risk most of it.”

  I agreed. “Then what do we do? I doubt your sister has most of the stuff on this list.”

  He took the recipe from me and scanned the items. “Half of them. Give or take a few. Some of these others are pretty damn rare.”

  It might as well have listed unicorn tears and mermaid’s toenails for ingredients. “Is there a magic store around here? Or…” I paused for dramatic effect. “A confectioner’s shop?”

  He looked at me as if I were the new MacGyver. “You’re right. We’re sitting right on top of it.”

  Actually, it was sitting on us, but I didn’t bother to correct him.

  Just as food can give energy to a magical practitioner after a working, it can also store energy from those who created it. This is going to sound weird, but chocolate is one of the highest foods on the magical scale. It’s no accident people become addicted to it. And it’s not just the caffeine inherent in the cocoa powder, or the chemical reactions of the sugar. It’s the magical energy released by eating it.

  Pasta is another. Personally, I think it has to do with the endorphins released by the sugar and carbs facilitating the magical reaction, but I may be way off.

  However, I wasn’t going to go raid the closest Italian restaurant for ingredients to make a magical epoxy when chances were the confectioner’s shop was a front for the Convention.

  We came out into the store after navigating the twists and turns of the staircase from hell, then cut through the hallway, and helped ourselves to the contents of their storeroom.

  For once in my life, I did something wrong and didn’t even care. We were more about saving the world than worried about breaking a few laws.

  This was all for the higher good, and there was no more noble cause in heaven or earth.

  Once we finished there, we went to gather the rest of the ingredients.

  This was accomplished by several means—one of which required us to travel into the city to visit his sister’s store.

  It was getting rather late by the time we made it to the station. Commuters were coming off the trains from New York and heading to their homes in New Jersey.

  We bought passes at the bank of machines and moved to the platform to wait on the trains.

  All around us, the hum of magic filled the station. So much energy stirred the air, my hair lifted off my collar to dance around my face.

  A quick glance around and most people weren’t affected by the phenomenon.

  “What’s with the hair? Why am I the only one who has magic head?” I put my hand up and tried to brush it down, but it didn’t do a damn bit of good.

  Malachi smoothed a big hand down my hair. “Has to do with the magic currents already running through your body. Most people block that part of their mind away. If they have any talent, they don’t even know it. The magic in the air seeks a conduit, when it doesn’t find one, it moves on.”

  I pulled my hoodie up and tucked my hair under the cap. Before long, the ends of my hair fought their way out of the hood and started rising in the worst case of static I’d ever seen.

  “You know, we might be able to use your hair like divining rods.”

  I sat on the bench, stupefied at his suggestion. “You’re kidding, right?”

  When he shrugged and looked away, I knew he wasn’t. Most absurd thing I’d ever heard in my life. Why then did I actually consider it?

  How else were we supposed to find the gate now that it was covered in brick and mortar? It sounded and felt silly as hell, but I stood. "Come on then. Let's find the gate while we're waiting on our train."

  Even if we missed it, PATH trains came about every ten minutes. There would be another one quick enough we wouldn't be too far behind schedule. Plus, if we found the location of the gate now, we wouldn't have to take time to look for it later. I untied my hood and let it fall back on my neck. Hell, my damn hair considered it a liberation and rose into the air like Medusa's snakes.

  The closer we walked to the area of disturbance the higher my hair rose. I noticed people watching me. A few of them hid laughter behind their hands. Others openly pointed. I didn't care. I was about to save the world.

  "Crazy hair, don't care," I said as I tried to ignore my chuckling admirers.

  Even Malachi looked amused, but he'd been right. My hair was sticking straight out in front of me, leading the way.

  "This really is a neat party trick. Wish I'd had the ability in high school. I might have been more popular." The quip earned me a sympathetic look from Malachi.

  "How could you not have been the most popular girl in school? You're sweet, funny, hot."

  Speaking of hot—hearing him say that made me go up in flames.

  "Thanks. Right back atcha', bud."

  We kept walking, until we came to a fence and a chain. Padlocks. The works. A sign distinctly labeled what hid behind a door as a high voltage area. No kidding. There had to be one around her somewhere. The PATHs ran on electricity, right?

  All my hair strained toward the door. I swore even my nasal hair had turned in that direction. I rubbed my nose and sneezed.

  I looked around us. Video cameras were stationed at the top of the wall. I pulled Malachi by the collar and leaned up and planted one on his shocked mouth.

  In retrospect, I probably should have warned him before taking advantage of him the way I did, but I really wanted to observe those cameras without appearing to do so.

  Maybe I'd seen too many movies. Whatever. I didn't care. What became apparent was that after his initial shock, he was all in.

  He turned so I was pressed up against the wall. His mouth devoured mine, warm and delicious. Damn, he was a great kisser.

  I ran my hand up his chest and laid it against hi
s heart. It beat hard, strong, and fast. He pulled away and rested his forehead against mine.

  "Promise me that, when this is over, you won't leave New York."

  I backed up at bit at the unexpected words.

  "Malachi." I drew his name out on a pained sigh. "I can't make a commitment like that. Not right now. I—"

  He kissed me again. Harder this time. Persuasive.

  The concrete beneath our feet began to vibrate as the train pulled into the station. I broke off the kiss and looked up at him.

  "We'll discuss this later. I promise."

  He pressed a quick kiss to my lips and took my hand as we raced to the train.

  People hurried off cars and to the stairs. Some of them in little better than a run. We entered the train on the opposite side of those exiting and found our seats.

  A heaviness filled my chest. My breathing became erratic.

  Malachi looked at me with a worried frown. "What's wrong?"

  "Just remembering the last time we tried to take this trip."

  He took my hand and laced his fingers through mine. Solid. Secure. "Lean against me. We won't get separated if the times shift again."

  I sure as hell hoped not. As the train pulled from the station, I thought I might very well hyperventilate.

  Malachi turned me fully to him and tucked my head under his chin. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. All right?"

  I wanted to believe him. All the witches straight from the Mother Goddess herself knew I wanted and needed to believe that. However, the shadow beings might have other ideas.

  If nothing else, they were entirely unpredictable.

  The trip into the city from there didn't take very long. We actually made it into the city and got off at Christopher Street. I’ll admit, I white knuckled both the seat and Malachi’s fingers as we crossed.

  The fact I didn't feel any time wells didn't mean they weren't lurking about, ready to spring at us like some quantum mousetraps. Unfortunately, in that scenario we were defiantly the mice.

  We arrived at Kara’s shop and entered to the tinkling of little bells.

  “I’ll be with you in a moment,” came a voice from the back of the shop near what I knew to be the kitchen.

  Malachi tensed beside me.

  I looked up at him and noted the frown. “What is it?”

  “That’s not Kara’s voice.”

  “Whose is it?” I questioned him in little more than a whisper.

  “I don’t know.”

  He hurried his stride and we were to the kitchen in seconds. A woman stood there with her hair pulled up into a messy bun and a long peasant style dress. She turned and looked over her shoulder at Malachi and winked.

  “Where’s Kara?” he demanded.

  “I sent her away for a few days. She’s with Sebastian and Johnathon at their home on Martha’s Vineyard.” She picked up the tea kettle. “I think you need some tea.”

  “Who are you?”

  Her enigmatic smile filled her eyes and she turned to me. “She knows who I am, if not by face, by name.”

  I searched my memory for ever having met her before but was stumped. Her hands were filled with rings. A pendant around her neck was styled in the shape of a paper bird.

  Then it hit me. “Melody Doran?”

  Malachi reared back as the woman gave a solemn nod. “What are you doing here? How did you know?”

  “The time well outside of Fox Run. It’s been opening and closing a great deal lately. I thought I’d closed it for good two years ago.” She twirled her hand in a distracted manner. “Two years for me. Over a century for you.”

  Malachi still hadn’t shaken off his shocked expression. It fell to me to get us moving along and figure out why Melody had come to New York in 2018 and sent Kara away.

  “We’re here to gather some supplies to close the gate in the Hoboken PATH station.” I started around her to discover if Kara kept any storage bags in the kitchen or if we’d have to make do with the ones she gave to customers.

  “So that’s where it’s located. Not that I know what a path station is.” She shook her head as if clearing it from unfamiliar jargon. “Doesn’t matter. There are cracks forming all over the city and in specific points in time. Witches with certain abilities have gone missing. I couldn’t take a chance and leave Kara vulnerable. Not with an ability to speak with the dead. She needed fortified protection.”

  Malachi stood. His chair clattered to the floor. “What about Maddie? She can dimension hop.”

  “Safe. The Convention has her secured in one of their facilities in France.”

  I smiled. A feeling of warmth spread through me. “I met Ellis Lake.”

  Only a shimmer of emotion crossed her face. However, her eyes turned bleak. “May we one day be reunited.”

  A pit opened in my stomach. He hadn’t made it back to his time? I wanted to ask her, but she launched into instructions and poured us both some tea. The scent rising from the cups was almost enough to knock me out.

  “Yuck, what is that?” I held the cup away from my nose. My face twisted into a grimace of acute disgust.

  “A little tisane to make you temporarily invulnerable. You’ll need it for your trip to close the gate. Drink up. All of it.”

  “Won’t it wear off by the time we reach our destination?” Malachi clinked his mug against mine.

  Melody shook her head. “No. Not the way you’re traveling.”

  She thrust a package into my hand. “What is this?”

  “The sealant you need for the gate.”

  A time well opened where the kitchen door exited into the hallway. With our packs filled with supplies and charms to save us from any and all spells imaginable, Melody thrust us through the well and into the dark chamber where the gate stood as if newly erected.

  Behind us, the well closed and winked out of existence.

  “I guess she can open them at will.” Color me Captain Obvious.

  Malachi looked at me and hit the side of his head as if trying to dislodge water from his ear. He opened and closed his mouth a few times. “Ah. There. They finally popped.”

  He set about putting up a wall of protection.

  All along my back, my nerve endings tingled. A nervous flutter filled my belly. My movements became jerky. “They’re coming.”

  He glanced up at the walls around us. “I know. But they aren’t here yet.”

  He had a point. I tried to make the circle and write the runes suggested in the journal. My fingers kept dropping the wand. I finally stuck it in my bag and let the power direct outward from my finger. The charm around my neck began to warm and glow, along with the sigils I placed outward.

  “This should hold for a bit.” I turned and started on the gate.

  When I opened the jar, a stench for the ages escaped. I closed my mouth and put my shirt up over my nose as I worked to spread the goop over cracks where light from the other side of the gate slipped through. I tried to remember the chant but failed.

  Impossible to hold the printout and spread the sealant on the gate at the same time. “I could use some help.”

  I glanced over my shoulder to see what Malachi did. Those same curious little boxes he carried were now set around a circle of protection he’d thrown up around us.

  Malachi left where he’d placed rigged traps along the outside of the circle.

  Walls shifted. Debris fell.

  We’d run out of time.

  All the air leached from the cavern. I tried to draw breath, but it became increasingly hard to do.

  Shadow beings poured into the chamber. Creatures made of stone, dirt, clay, and sediment. They formed from the essence of life, carbon. If they were carbon-based, I could return them to that state. But first we had to get the gate secured.

  Malachi grabbed my hand and placed it on the runes. I wasn’t tall enough to reach the capstone, so he held it to one of the locks along the perimeter. My hand was sticky where I’d smeared the epoxy on it with my fingers.<
br />
  His mouth moved as he recited the spell he’d memorized. I joined my voice to his, the words coming back as he spoke, giving a counterpoint in clear, precise tones.

  Cracks appeared around the stone. I shot a gaze to Malachi as we continued to chant. It wasn’t coming from us, but inside the gate. The shadow beings were forcing their way out.

  Light spread from the cracks. Not from the seeable end up the spectrum, but the ultraviolet. A place where my powers picked it up and nearly blinded me on a psychic level.

  Pain roared through my frontal lobe and I shot back as if knocked down by a speeding car. I landed outside the circle, winded.

  “Kells!”

  Malachi started to me, but I managed to shake my head for him to continue.

  Even as the shadow beings surrounded me.

  Thirty-One

  Malachi

  Horrible panic beat my heart hard against my sternum. I reached for Kells, but the breaches in the gate were getting worse. I turned to the side as I worked, trying to see both the gate and what happened behind me.

  My concentration was shot. How was I supposed to push all my energy and center myself for a spell to hold a gate together when the woman I love was surrounded by golems?

  They were getting closer, but so far hadn’t tripped the snares. As it stood, I wasn’t so sure Kells wouldn’t get caught up in them.

  “Get back in the circle.”

  She didn’t answer me, but her eyes were wide with fear. It was then, I noticed she wasn’t breathing—or at least struggling to do so.

  “Damn it!” I dived for her legs and pulled her back into the safety zone as the golems lunged for her. Traps tripped, sending magical sparks up into the air. Golems screamed in a guttural cry of fear and anger.

  I bent down over Kells and helped her sit up. “Are you all right?”

  She sucked in big lungsful of air. “What the hell happened?”

  No time to answer. The cracks were spreading. “We have to get these sealed. They’re trying to tear it apart a spell at a time from the inside.”

  The epoxy hadn’t been on long enough to harden.

  The most effective spells were placed in layers. Ones of this importance and magnitude were over two centuries deep. Each age put their stamp on the seals. The turn of the calendar had provided more Convention members to add their energy to keep the Shattered Lands closed.