“No, I’m fine.” A quick scan of the space confirmed to her that the mysterious thing lurking in the attic couldn’t have been that big. There weren’t that many places for it to hide. Only a few steamer trunks, old boxes, and, of course, a dusty old wedding dress on a dummy because it wouldn’t have been a creepy old attic without one of those.
The trapdoor slammed shut, and Imogen, despite herself, squealed in muted terror. The dread thing in here with her scampered from one darkened corner to another. Imogen went over to the door, held her miniature flashlight in her teeth, and yanked on the trapdoor. It budged a little.
Her foe scampered behind her, and she turned, trying to get a good look at it. It was too fast, but it also wasn’t very big, so she decided she wasn’t afraid of it. If it was truly dangerous, it’d stop screwing around and just attack her.
Virginia pounded on the door from below while Imogen tugged at it. The brass ring snapped off, so she resorted to digging her fingers in the crack, breaking some nails in the process. She’d just painted her nails, so that pissed her off.
The creature dashed toward her in the dark, and she whirled, catching it in the light.
It was only a rat. Not an especially terrifying one either. There was something tangled up in its tail. It glinted in the light. The rat stared at her with its beady reflective eyes.
“Yeah, okay. So I bet that’s for me, right?”
The rat wiggled its ears and twitched its nose in a way that was almost cute.
“My brother gets to fight a god,” she mused, “and I’m stuck with you.”
Imogen had never been squeamish. As a kid, she’d picked up bugs and lizards with fearless abandon, and that skill served her well. She crept forward, only pouncing when she was close enough to have a shot.
She still missed by a good four feet, but as she lay there, embarrassed by her rusty tomboy talents, the glinting piece of metal must’ve come loose in the rat’s flight. She grabbed it, tucked it in her pocket, and went back to the trapdoor. The third time was the charm, and it popped open.
Once out of the attic, she appraised her find, a small red vial on a chain.
“That’s it?” asked Virginia. “You were almost killed by a monster for that?”
“It wasn’t a monster,” said Imogen. “It was only a rat.”
“But we both heard it. It had to be bigger than that.”
“Often our fears are worse than reality,” said Agent Campbell helpfully.
“I really can never tell if she’s serious,” said Virginia.
“I think she’s always serious,” said Imogen.
***
The vial wouldn’t unscrew.
“Lefty loosey,” Virginia reminded Imogen.
“I’m aware.” Imogen tried both directions, but neither worked. It seemed like a no brainer that whatever was in the vial needed to be poured into the vase.
“Are we doing something wrong?” Virginia asked Agent Campbell.
Campbell checked her notebook. “So far, so good.”
Virginia tried to take a peek, but Campbell snapped it shut. “You don’t want to see this. It’ll only ruin the surprises.”
“Easy for you to say,” said Virginia. “This must be all old hat for you.”
“Old hat?” repeated Imogen.
“It’s an expression. And who says I want to be surprised?”
Imogen shrugged. “Oh, just go with it, Virginia.”
Someone knocked on the front door, and they answered it. It was Rick, the guy who lived down the block. Tall, golden-haired, chiseled jawline Rick, as Virginia and Imogen had taken to calling him. It wasn’t the best nickname, but it summarized everything they knew about him so far. That, and he also worked on cars on Sunday mornings. Imogen knew that because she timed her morning jog to coincide with the event, even though she hated getting up early, especially on Sunday. But he was just that good-looking.
She didn’t have anything against asking most guys out herself, but a guy like Rick was so damned handsome, she felt like making the first move would’ve just been too easy for him. An ordinary guy, she could understand why they might be too intimidated to ask her out. But if Rick didn’t ask her out, it meant he wasn’t interested. She assumed he already had a girlfriend or was gay or maybe she just wasn’t his type.
“Hi,” he said. “Imogen and Virginia, right?”
Virginia practically squealed.
“Rick, right?” said Imogen, perhaps sounding a little too uncertain.
He nodded. “Yeah, so some friends of mine are coming over to have, like, a little get together, and we thought maybe we should invite over some of the neighbors. Get a chance to know them a little better.”
“Some of the neighbors, huh?” asked Imogen.
He leaned against the doorframe with a coy smile. “Well, just the ones we were interested in getting to know better.”
Virginia squealed again, without much effort to conceal it. “We’ve got some beers in the fridge we can bring over.”
He looked at her and nodded. “That’d be awesome, Virginia.”
Imogen recognized that look. Rick was interested in someone in this house, but it wasn’t her.
Rick studied Agent Campbell. “You can bring your, uh, mom, too, I guess. If you want.” It was plain he didn’t mean that, but it was sweet of him to pretend.
“We’ll be there,” said Virginia.
Rick strolled away, and Imogen and Virginia watched his perfect ass sway on the verge of a swagger, but not so obvious as to be obnoxious about it. Campbell might have watched it too. Her dark glasses made it impossible to tell, but she did wear an ever-so-slight smile.
Virginia ran to her room and rummaged through her closet. Imogen sat on the door and watched her.
“What are you doing?” asked Virginia. “You should be getting ready.”
“Can’t go.” Imogen held up the vial. “Kind of in the middle of something here.”
“But this is Rick!” Virginia grabbed Imogen by the shoulders and shook her. “Rick!”
“Oh, I’m fully aware of who this is, but it doesn’t really matter. He wasn’t inviting me over anyway.”
“What are you talking about? Of course he was inviting you. I mean . . . you’re you. Every guy has a thing for you.”
Imogen chuckled. It wasn’t far off, and she had to admit, she was surprised when she wasn’t a guy’s first target. But she also was trying not to let that go to her head because there were a lot of people in this world, and some were bound to prefer the cute nerd over the tall, athletic type.
It wasn’t like Rick was all that good looking. Not when she saw him up close. His shoulders were too wide, and his eyes were way too blue. It was distracting.
“If you think I’m going to stay here and screw around with you just because of some cosmic checklist,” said Virginia, “you’re out of your mind.”
“No, I think you should go.”
“I can’t just leave you here alone.”
“I won’t be alone. I’ve got Campbell here. And the worst that’s happened so far was that I had to scare a rat.”
Virginia said, “But I can’t. I just can’t.” She started picking through her closet. “It wouldn’t be right. Do you think I should wear my red sneakers or blue?”
Imogen helped Virginia select an outfit and sent her on her way.
Campbell looked at her notebook, but she tapped her pen against her pad.
“Not worth a check?” asked Imogen.
“No, I think it qualifies,” said Campbell. “Might have possibly skipped a step or two, but that’s nothing to be concerned about.”
Imogen sat on the sofa. If she listened closely, she could hear the sounds of music coming from down the block.
“Are you sure things are going like they should?” she asked Campbell. “We’ve been sitting here for two hours now without so much as an angry roach to show for it.”
Campbell shrugged. “These things operate on their own time.”
Imogen sighed. “I’m going to grab something to drink while we wait. Can I get you anything, Agent?”
“No, thanks.”
“Suit yourself.” Imogen went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “Tell me something, Agent,” she called into the living room while sorting through beverages. “Do you ever sit? You must sit sometime, right? How else do you drive?”
She grabbed a soda and returned to the living room. Campbell was gone. In her place, a tall and slender woman with chalk white skin, long red hair, wearing a charcoal pantsuit, stood. She held the vase in her hands.
“Oh, hello,” said Imogen. It was a curious thing to say, but she said it mostly out of reflex.
The pale woman’s skin was smooth as glass and even a little bit shiny. She turned her bright blue eyes on Imogen.
“The water, where is it?”
“You didn’t happen to see another person here?” asked Imogen under the intruder’s uncomfortable gaze. “Quiet, doesn’t sit, not exactly a smiler.”
“Didn’t see her. Perhaps I was a bit rude. I am known as Safiria the Ancient, Exiled Emissary of Gods, Seeker of Power, The Merciless Lady, The Undying One, She Who Waits.” She paused, handed Imogen a business card. “And The Prophet of Ages.”
Imogen glanced at the card. “Wow. You managed to get all that on here.”
“They work wonders at Kinko’s,” said Safiria. “Now give me the Waters of Life or else I shall be forced to make your life most miserable.”
“If you’re talking about this vial thing, I can’t open it.”
“I can.”
Imogen reached into her pocket, felt the vial with her fingers. “Why is this so important?”
“That is none of your concern. Now give it to me before I lose my patience.”
“No.”
Safiria scowled. The glass flesh on her face cracked around the corners of her mouth. “How dare you defy me, foolish mortal child.”
Imogen held up the vial. “I’ve read enough legends. I’m willing to bet if you could take this from me, you already would’ve.”
Safiria groaned. “Oh, how I despise this age. This sort of thing was so much easier when you didn’t all know the rules. You have no idea what forces you meddle with, child. Within this vase is the Glory Bloom, a sacred flower that was touched by the first drops of sunlight to bring warmth to this world. Older than even the gods above, it has within it unfathomable powers. And it will be mine.”
Imogen tucked the vial back in her pocket. “Is this the part where you tempt me? Offer to make me an immortal goddess, free beer for life, maybe a new car?”
“Oh, I think we’ll skip that part.”
Safiria the Ancient snapped her fingers, and the front door exploded as a serpentine creature with fur, feathers, and scales in random patches slithered inside. It hissed at Imogen with its two serpent heads. Venom dripped from its fangs as it coiled its long, long body beside Safiria. The body was so long, it was still coming through the door.
“If you can’t hurt me, why should I be afraid of your snake?” Imogen sounded more confident than she felt.
“Oh, it’s not you I’m threatening.”
The horrible two-headed snake monster finally pulled its tail end through the door. Virginia and Rick were clutched helplessly in its coils.
“Give me the Waters of Life now,” said Safiria. “Or watch your friends die. The amphisbaena’s bite is fatal and irreversible.”
Each snake head hovered over the monster’s prey.
“Don’t do it,” said Virginia. “I’ve read enough of these stories to know that giving the evil lady what she wants—”
The amphisbaena sank its long fangs into her shoulder. Virginia shrieked and fell limp. Her flesh turned a shade of green.
“Education is a worthy pursuit,” said Safiria, “but it’s no substitute for practical experience. Now, give me the waters that I might bring the Glory Bloom to flower. And in return, I shall restore your friend to life.”
“But you said it’s irreversible.”
“All things are possible for the bearer of the Bloom.”
Imogen clutched the vial tighter. “How do I know I can trust you?”
“What other choice to you have? Or shall I make an example of every poor fortunate mortal on this block? In this city? Starting with this handsome specimen here?”
The amphisbaena clucked eagerly as it pressed a fang against Rick’s throat, just shy of piercing the skin. He wriggled in its coils.
“Aw, shit, Rick. I’m really sorry about this,” said Imogen.
She twisted the vial in her hands. The cap loosened easily.
“The waters,” said Safiria. “Now!”
“You want them. They’re all yours.”
Imogen twisted off the cap and splashed the droplets of water in the pale sorceress’s face. Safiria howled as her pale flesh bubbled and cracked. Her monster serpent squawked and convulsed as its master fell to her knees and shattered, piece by piece.
“Cursed, child,” she hissed. “How could you know? How? How?”
“I’ve seen The Wizard of Oz,” replied Imogen. “Witches and water don’t mix.”
Only a torso, one crumbling arm, and half a broken face, Safiria sneered. “That isn’t a weakness of witches. And I’m no witch.”
“It isn’t?” Imogen shrugged. “Oh, well, it worked didn’t it?”
Safiria the Ancient grumbled, “What a world! What a world!”
She crumbled into a tidy pile of porcelain chips. The amphisbaena uttered one feeble cluck before transforming into a cloud of yellow smoke and drifting away.
“You can’t tell me she didn’t do that on purpose,” said Imogen to Rick, who stood there in silent shock.
Virginia groaned. Imogen knelt down and cradled her. “No, no. There has to be something left.” She put the vial to Virginia’s lips and shook it. “Come on. Just a couple of drops at the bottom. I know you’re there.”
Virginia ran her tongue along her moistened lips. The green faded from her cheeks, and the wounds on her shoulder closed. She opened her eyes and sat up.
“Was I just dead?”
“Yes, you were,” said Agent Campbell, now sitting on their sofa.
***
The National Questing Bureau agents swept the remains of Safiria the Ancient into a large Tupperware container. Another pair of NQB personnel busily worked at restoring the front door.
“Awfully nice of you to do that,” said Imogen.
“It’s what we’re here for,” said Agent Campbell. “Questing is disruptive enough without having to manage those little details.”
“Am I immortal now?” asked Virginia.
“Temporarily.”
“Temporarily immortal? Isn’t that an oxymoron?”
“You would think so.”
“What about that?” Imogen pointed to the Glory Bloom, or rather the cheap vase that contained it.
“Keep it,” said Campbell. “The Bloom can’t grow without the Waters of Life, and those are gone. Not forever. But for at least another thousand years.”
“Just out of curiosity, what would’ve happened if I’d given Safiria the waters?”
“Can’t honestly say, but it’s just good policy to keep such power out of the reach of . . . well, perhaps everyone. Even the gods above.” Campbell shook their hands. “You handled yourself ably. I’d put you up for commendations if we gave those out.”
She handed each of them a card with her name and number on it. “Don’t hesitate to call if the need arises.”
“But I thought the quest was over?” said Virginia.
“This quest is.” Campbell smiled enigmatically. “But there are always others.”
The NQB agents finished their collection and repairs and vanished without a fuss. The house was actually cleaner than it had been at the start of the day. Imogen and Virginia sat on the sofa.
“Well, that was something,” said Virginia.
“Yeah. So
mething,” agreed Imogen.
“Thanks for using the last of the water on me.”
“No problem. So do you think Rick still wants us to drop by his party?”
“I think that’s probably unlikely,” said Virginia.
“Too bad. He was cute.”
“Forget him. If one giant two-headed snake chicken monster is enough to freak him out, he’s not as cool as I thought.”
Imogen went into the kitchen.
“Too bad about the Glory Bloom!” called Virginia from the living room. “I wonder if it could do all the things that crazy witch said it could.”
Imogen leaned against the fridge. She shook the vial containing the Waters of Life and dabbed it on the tip of her index finger. There was barely a drop left, but she suspected it would be more than enough to bring the Bloom to flower. She pondered all the power, literally, at her fingertip.
“We should go out!” said Virginia. “Coming back from the dead makes a girl restless.”
Imogen wiped the last of the Waters of Life on her pants leg and tossed the now empty vial onto the counter.
“Okay, but you’re buying the first round!”
***
Outside the kitchen window, Agent Campbell, with the barest hint of a smile, checked off the final item on her list. She closed it shut with a snap, and whistling a cheery tune, walked off into the cool evening.
###
AFTERWORD
So that’s it. The end.
When first undertaking this project, I’ll admit that I mostly did for my loyal readers. They’d been clamoring for sequels for years, and I could only ignore them so long.
But a funny thing happened. I found myself enjoying revisiting my characters and worlds more than I thought I would. I still have plenty of original ideas to explore, but returning to see my old friends and add more depth to their lives was far more rewarding than I-expected. Does it mean more sequels are in the works?
Honestly, I can’t say.
What I can say is that what I started with mild reservations ended with great satisfaction. I hope you enjoyed these stories as much as I enjoyed writing them. And if you should happen to have enjoyed them more than that, that’s just fine by me too.
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