Chasing Portals: Swords and Science Book 1

by Jason Parker

  Jhenna’s assumption was correct, the interview rooms were all empty. She motioned for Ghost to enter one of the austere rooms and they sat across from each other at a small table. Jhenna folded her hands on the table. “It’s good to see you again, what brings you here today?”

  Ghost crossed her arms. “You said if there was ever anything you could do for me I should stop by. Well, I need something,” she said curtly, her eyes wandered around the room and the door.

  “So what is it you need?”

  “I’ve got two special kids living with me,” she said, holding up the first two fingers on each hand and wiggling them to emphasize the word ‘special’. “A girl and a boy. The boy’s a gimp and the girl’s practically a mute. Don’t get me wrong, they’re great kids and we get by just fine…I’m afraid I may not always be there for them.”

  “Are you planning on going somewhere?” Jhenna asked.

  “I don’t know, maybe—you never know in my line of work,” Ghost replied.

  With raised eyebrows, Jhenna said, “I wasn’t aware serving girls were required to travel.”

  “Whatever,” Ghost said with a shrug. “Can you help with finding a place for my kids or not? And I don’t mean the shit-hole orphanages in the city.”

  Jhenna knew what she meant. The two orphanages in Corava were run by the government and were neglected homes of degradation and despair. Jhenna often wondered why the High Priestess never interceded to bring them under Church control.

  “I understand and agree with your opinion about the city orphanages. I would never recommend them,” she said shaking her head. “I grew up in Romalis and for many years lived in a facility administered by the Church. It’s a great place staffed by people who truly care about the children. It quite literally saved me. I’m sure it would be no problem to find a place there for your kids. I know the staff well.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Ghost nodded. “Let me talk with them. They won’t be happy about leaving the city, but they may be better off there.”

  Jhenna exhaled and sat back. “Let me know when you are ready. Romalis is fairly close so I can have someone here to escort them within a couple of days,” Jhenna said. “What are their names and ages?”

  “Ashlon is eleven and Tamryn is ten.”

  Jhenna pulled a small pad of paper and a pen from her robe pocket and jotted down the information. “Now, is there something I can do specifically for you?” she asked.

  “I don’t need anything. I know being a serving wench isn’t as glamorous as living in the castle, but I get by just fine,” Ghost said, folding her arms.

  “I know you want everyone to think you’re tough and all, but I really do understand—and I want to help,” Jhenna said.

  “You don’t understand shit!” Ghost exclaimed rising to her feet, glaring at Jhenna.

  “Will you please sit down and listen to me for a couple of minutes?” Jhenna asked, maintaining an even tone. “That’s all I ask and then you can be on your way.”

  Ghost nodded and sat, once again folding her arms.

  Jhenna leaned forward. “My mother lived in a brothel until the owner kicked her out about two months before I was born. My earliest memories are of a dirty apartment and a bunch of strange men who would go with my mother into her bedroom. I would hear her scream and think the men were hurting her, but when I asked her about it she just laughed and told me to mind my own business. I once asked her who my father was and she said she’d give me a list and I could pick one.”

  Ghost stared at her with wide eyes.

  Jhenna cleared her throat and continued. “When I got old enough to be interesting, she started offering me up to her clients as round two for some additional coin. By the time I was eight or nine, I lived on the streets as long as I could until I got so hungry I had no choice but to return to the run-down apartment and my job as a whore-in-training. Finally, one night when I was twelve and being overpowered by a particularly rough and cruel man I reached my limit. He was forcing me to pleasure him orally and I bit him as hard as I could. I still remember the taste of his vile blood. He screamed and slapped me with the back of his hand, splitting my face open with the fancy jeweled ring he wore and knocked me unconscious.”

  She paused and rubbed the long scar on her cheek. “When I awoke, my mother was yelling at me to get out and never come back. After living on the streets for a couple of weeks, weak from starvation, a kind Priest found me and brought me to the orphanage. You can, I’m sure, guess the rest.”

  Ghost dropped her head. “Look, I’m sorry. I get it. Your life was as shitty as mine, worse even. I know you are just trying to be nice but, really, if you find a good place for my kids you will have done more than enough. I’m fine, really.”

  Jhenna nodded. “Well you know I’m here if you ever need anything.”

  “I suppose if you really want to do something for me, there is one thing,” Ghost said sheepishly squinting her eyes and tilting her head. “Could you maybe give a tour of the castle?”

  “That’s easy enough,” Jhenna smiled. “Aside from petitioners on Thursdays, Corava Castle is not generally open to visitors, so there’s not much in the way of tourist attractions. I’m happy to show you what there is.”

  Jhenna began the tour in the court chamber adjacent to the interview rooms. Aside from an ornate, deeply polished mahogany table and three matching chairs with intricate carvings, there was little to see.

  “This is the chamber where the Triumvirate holds court,” she said.

  Ghost studied the room, but said nothing. Jhenna then led her a few doors down the hall and motioned her inside. The room was smaller than the audience chamber, but had a high ceiling and a large window on the wall opposite the door. Mustiness permeated the air and copious dust particles danced in a swath of sunlight.

  “This is informally called the history room.” Jhenna pointed to three large portraits on easels in the center of the room. “These are, of course, the Lords of the Triumvirate. We have the stern Lord Tyval, the stoic Lord Dumare, and the effervescent Lord Vergilus.”

  Ghost glowered at the likeness of Lord Vergilus. “I know who they are.”

  Jhenna nodded toward an oak bookshelf below the window. “Those books over there chronicle the history and genealogy of the Triumvirate families.”

  Ghost shrugged. “I’m not much of a reader. What’s next?”

  Jhenna guided her out of the room. They continued down the hall and then turned left down the next side passageway. As they walked Ghost paused and turned to face different directions, motioning with her hands.

  “What are you doing?” Jhenna asked.

  “I’m admiring the decorations,” Ghost responded.

  Jhenna stared at her and curled her lip. “There are no decorations in this corridor.”

  “Whatever,” Ghost said and pointed forward. “Can we just keep going?”

  Jhenna walked a few more feet and stepped through an open doorway. “This is the castle art gallery.”

  Ghost scanned the hodge-podge collection of paintings, tapestries, and sculptures.

  “This is more like the castle art storage room,” she said with a frown. “Things are just randomly stuffed in here. There are not even any markers identifying the artists.”

  Jhenna lifted her hands with palms upward. “As I said before, the castle isn’t set up to accommodate visitors.”

  Ghost poked her head out the doorway. “If I turned left here, I’d end up back at the reception desk, right?”

  “Yes, that’s correct.” Jhenna tilted her head.

  “That’s pretty much everything there is to show you,” Jhenna said as they left the art gallery.

  “Any chance you could show me where the science labs are?” Ghost asked.

  Jhenna stared at her trying to decide if she should push for answers about what she was up to or just let it go. She opted to let it go—reluctant to do anything that might damage their fragile relationship.

  Jhenna rubbed the scar o
n her cheek. “I’m sure you know I can’t take you there. The science area is off limits to visitors. But since you are so interested in where everything is, I’ll show you how you would get there.”

  Ghost’s eyes lit up. “Thanks.”

  Jhenna led her down a few corridors, making a handful of turns along the way. Ghost paused a couple of times to turn and face different directions as she’d done before. Jhenna remained silent. Finally, their path ended at a corridor twice the width of the others.

  Jhenna stopped and motioned with her arms. “This is the central corridor that runs through the middle of the castle,” she explained. “At the end of the corridor to the left is the west wing and to the right, the east wing. That garish fountain contraption in the direction of the west wing is the center of the castle. If you look all the way to either end you can see a set of large doors. These doors lead to the wings and are always guarded by a pair of watchmen. The science center is in the back corner of the west wing, so if you entered the wing and branched to the right, you would eventually get there.”

  Ghost scanned the central corridor for a few moments, and then tipped her head as if satisfied. “Thanks for showing me around. I should be getting back now. I’ve got to be at work in an hour.”

  Jhenna nodded and led the way back to the art gallery and finally to the reception area. “Be sure to let me know what you decide about the kids,” she said as Ghost walked toward the exit, causing a doorman to spring into action and open a door for her.

  “Of course,” Ghost said with a wave. “And thanks again.”

  Jhenna stared after her until the door closed. What are you up to, Ghost?

  CHAPTER 27

  For a moment, Nightlocke paused.

  Sweat dripped from his brow as he struggled to roll a large boulder to the middle of the castle courtyard. He brushed the dirt from his hands on his pants and glanced at the blazing sun. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. Summer was winding down but the heat was holding its midseason form. He then witnessed Lassernan emerge from the shadows near the stables with each hand grasping a bale of hay. Nightlocke was surprised the tall, skinny man could manage the fifty-pound bales. His face was stoic. Of course, Lassernan rarely showed expression unless it involved horses.

  “Where should I put these?” he asked.

  Dagan, who was standing a few feet away from him, pointed toward the center of the courtyard to the same area Nightlocke was maneuvering the boulder. “Over there. We’ll need three rows of three bales stacked on top of each other.” Dagan took out a rag from his waistcoat and wiped his face.

  After twenty minutes, a six-foot long by four-foot high wall of hay stood near the center of the courtyard, flanked on either side by a roundish boulder half as tall as a man. A table was set up about twelve feet away from the center. Nightlocke examined the equipment resting upon it. Four test tubes sat in a wooden rack. Two contained a clear liquid and the others a red liquid. All tightly stoppered with cork.

  The remaining piece of equipment reminded Nightlocke of a large lemon with three tubes sticking out of one end and a handle underneath. The tubes were copper pipes—two were five inches long and as wide as a thumb. They were fused together and positioned atop the slightly wider and longer third pipe. The smaller pipes were open ended and the larger pipe was fitted with a steel dial that could be rotated to adjust the diameter of the opening between a tenth and half an inch.

  The handle was a rectangular piece of brass long and wide enough to fit comfortably in the grip of a hand with a trigger lever positioned for the index finger. The lemon-shaped part of the device was actually an oval brass chamber with three compartments, two upper and one lower. Each copper pipe was connected to its own individual compartment. A thumb nail length steel lever protruded from the top rear of the chamber. On one side was a gauge marked with an ‘E’ on the left and an ‘F’ on the right with three hash marks evenly spaced between the letters. The needle on the gauge pointed toward the ‘E.’

  Nightlocke picked up the device and shifted it from hand to hand—amazed. Amazed that he and Dagan designed and fabricated something so small to operate his force beam. He smiled and firmly gripped the handle with his right hand. Dagan deserved the credit on this one. Nightlocke was certain, now, that he could construct one on his own.

  Nightlocke was puzzled that this talented and brilliant Scientist was living as a recluse. All other Scientists he knew, even the Master Scientists at the Institute, paled in comparison to him. Nightlocke wondered what the truth was about Dagan. Regardless, he was an adept teacher and Nightlocke had learned more from him in the past few weeks than he had in a year at the Institute.

  “How does it look?” Dagan asked with an amused smile.

  “Most definitely cool,” Nightlocke said raising his eyebrows and slightly nodding his head. “It makes the apparatus Wexworth used to demo his force beam look awkward and unwieldy by comparison. I can hardly wait to try it out.”

  “Well then…by all means, give it a try,” Dagan said with a twinkle in his deep blue eyes and a sweeping gesture toward the hay wall and the boulders.

  The castle wall stood a few feet behind the hay and boulders. Nightlocke’s concern the force beam would strike the castle beyond the targets was allayed by Dagan. The castle was fortified with special properties. No damage would occur. He didn’t go into further detail, but Nightlocke made a mental note to ask him more about it later.

  Nightlocke pulled his tinted goggles on and adjusted them over his eyes. His hand shook as he selected a test tube filled with clear liquid from the rack. Sweat trickled down his cheeks. He wiped it away with his sleeve. He cleared his throat. If something went wrong, he likely wouldn’t have much of a face left.

  He tipped the device so the openings of the copper pipes pointed toward the ground. Popping the stopper out of the test tube, he inserted the open end into one of the small copper pipes and slid it upward until he heard it snap into place. He did the same with one of the red liquid filled test tubes and then righted the device so the pipes and test tube bottoms were pointing toward hay bales. He adjusted the dial on the end of the large pipe to the largest size opening.

  He placed his thumb on the lever attached to the back of the brass chamber, tipped the device slightly skyward and depressed the lever. He watched as the needle on the gauge slowly moved from ‘E’ to ‘F’ indicating the test tubes had fully drained. He took a deep breath and gripped the handle. He slowly exhaled and positioned his index finger on the trigger adjacent to the handle.

  He ran through a mental checklist. The liquids from the test tubes were currently in separate compartments within the upper half of the chamber. Once he pulled the trigger, the liquids would flow into the lower compartment of the chamber and intermingle. As the substances combined, a chemical reaction would occur and raise the pressure within the chamber. If his calculation were correct, after five seconds the force beam would erupt through the opening at the end of the large copper pipe.

  “All right,” he said aiming the device toward the hay. “Here we go.”

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dagan pull his dark tinted goggles into place and hold a thumb up. Lassernan had retreated to the stables. Nightlocke took another deep breath and squeezed the lever. He held the trigger down until the needle on the gauge reached ‘E’ and then released. The device began to tremble as the reaction commenced and he grabbed his forearm with his free hand to steady it. Seconds later, a bright red beam erupted from the device, widening as it traveled toward the hay and then struck with a resounding whump. The hay exploded into a cloud of particles that slowly rained down to the earth. Nightlocke lowered the device to his side and stared transfixed, momentarily unable to move or speak.

  He heard Dagan applauding as he continued to stare at the hay storm.

  He saw Lassernan walking toward the site of the impact. “Ho-lee shit,” he muttered. “What a mess.”

  Dagan rushed toward Nightlocke and patted him on
the shoulder. “Congratulations! That was magnificent!”

  Nightlocke jumped in the air and raised his fist. “That was so cool! Let’s do it again!”

  “Yes, by all means,” Dagan laughed. “Go for it.”

  Once the hay dust settled Nightlocke could clearly see the castle wall beyond. If the force beam had reached it, there was no evidence of damage.

  He shrugged. Dagan smiled and put his hands on his hips. Lassernan had gone back to the stables and was now holding a rake.

  Nightlocke extracted the empty test tubes from the device. “This time I’m going to try and get two blasts off with one set of test tubes.”

  Dagan nodded. “According to our theory, there should be enough fluid in a pair of test tubes to produce four one second blasts. It’s dependent on how much of the fluid you release from the test tubes into the upper compartments of the chamber. The gauge will guide you to the correct amount.”

  Nightlocke adjusted his goggles and reloaded the device with the two remaining full test tubes. “This time, instead of completely draining all the fluid from the test tubes, I’ll stop when the gauge needle reaches the middle hash mark.”

  He tipped the device slightly upward and pressed the lever on the top of the chamber with his thumb. He watched as the needle ascended from ‘E’ to the second hash mark centered between the ‘E’ and the ‘F’. He then released the lever.

  He pointed the device at the boulder on his left. “Okay, here we go.”

  He inhaled and pulled the trigger as he exhaled. The gauge needle retreated back to the ‘E’ and he felt the tremor of the chemical reaction. The beam blasted for a shorter duration than before. It was as wide as the boulder when it struck and it was completely absorbed into the stone. Cracking sounds filled the air and a web-like series of fractures appeared on the surface of the boulder. It fell apart into a pile of chunks and rubble.