by Phil Stern
“What’s up?” Watching her closely, Valensa raised an eyebrow. “All the wedding stuff getting to you?”
“No, it’s not that.” Leaning back, the sorceress sighed. “Though it is a pain in the ass.”
“What then? Claire?”
“Yeah, but nothing I can’t handle.” Absently waving a hand about, Tiffany shrugged. “It’s just everything at once. I’m behind on a few stories, Blake’s feeling ignored, the cake lady is texting me every five minutes for a decision...”
“Go with the three-tier coconut vanilla. It’s utterly divine.”
“...and Inka is constantly demanding specific instructions.” Wearily glancing at her phone, Earth’s lead sorceress saw another two emails from her Australian-based operative. “By the stone, can’t she figure out anything on her own?”
Sensuously taking another sip, Valensa almost hummed in pleasure. One of her favorite things about Earth were the coffee shops. “What kind of name is Inka, anyway?”
“She’s from Catara.” Tiffany impatiently stuffed the device away once more. “It’s a common name there.”
“Sorry, Miss Boundary Portal.” Valensa rolled her eyes. “I guess I’m not as well traveled as I should be.”
Exasperated, Tiffany’s gaze shot up again. “Look, you know I didn’t mean...”
“And why not drop the reporting job? It’s too much.”
“Well, I have to have a cover.” Tiffany winced as soft chimes from within her purse heralded the arrival of even more texts. “I can’t just live here without an income.”
“You wife soon, right?” Giggling, Valensa managed a passable impression of the wedding shop lady. “What wife have job?”
“Solvent ones,” the sorceress replied. “And don’t forget, Blake’s a policeman. If I just quit my job and we live above our ostensible means for too long, the department might notice.”
“Get a part-time job, then,” Valensa suggested, even while beaming at a twenty-something guy in a suit a few tables off. “Something interesting.”
“Like?”
“Maybe a phone sex line? Or stripping on the weekends? I’m sure Blake wouldn’t mind.”
“Perhaps.” Absently staring off in the distance, Tiffany took another sip. “I might even announce my new line of work at the big family dinner Saturday night. It should go over well.”
“See? Now you’re thinking.”
Before Tiffany could formulate a suitable comeback, the handsome stranger leaned over to ask Valensa something, his gaze bright and friendly. Sitting back, Tiffany smiled as her sister welcomed his obvious flirting. It was good to see her so happy and relaxed.
When they’d first met just a short time ago Valensa was in the midst of a paranoid rage, the product of forced exposure to ruby stones over many years. Now, having fully acclimated to her natural form of magic, she was almost a different person. Indeed, Valensa’s help had been key in keeping her former coven at bay and eventually forcing Claire to the negotiating table.
Deliberately giving them some room, the older sibling stood and walked over to the coffee urns. A third cup would be a mistake, she knew, but it was so good...
Safely tucked underneath her shirt, Tiffany’s earth stone let out a warning surge. A moment later the enchantress clearly sensed another magician fast approaching the shop. Also wearing an earth stone, this new sorceress seemed to know exactly where she was.
Catching Valensa’s questioning gaze, Tiffany motioned for her sister to stay put. She hadn’t been expecting any Coven-mates today, yet it wasn’t entirely unusual for someone to just show up unannounced. This could well be a subordinate seeking help with yet another Zarth-related issue, or maybe one of Eleanor’s Vail-based couriers with an important message. If she were really unlucky, it might even be Barbara arriving early.
In any event, there was no need for alarm. The only thing that really bothered Tiffany was being tracked down in one of her favorite neighborhood haunts. As with many other things, this slight loss of privacy was an unexpected consequence of having assumed the top Coven spot here on Earth.
Still, whoever it was seemed to be moving awfully fast. Short of outright emergency, such haste was decidedly poor field craft. Casually facing the main entrance, Tiffany thoughtfully stirred in some sugar while ramping up her own power the merest touch.
While generally familiar, Tiffany could immediately place the bedraggled sorceress who came barreling through the front door. In her mid-twenties, the svelte brunette was in standard Coven attire. However, the girl’s jeans seemed quite worn, her black boots scuffed and otherwise marked up. And was that a burn mark on one sleeve? Clearly, she’d been having a rough time of late.
Yet the real shock were her black tactical gloves and earth stone. The magical talisman was firmly secured in a meshed pouch on the witch’s belt, rather than hanging from a necklace. These obvious accouterments of magical combat were shockingly out of place in a mundane, mid-tech coffee shop.
Pausing just inside the entranceway, the newcomer’s hardened gaze promptly settled on Tiffany. Continuing her approach, she brusquely pushed past an older couple ambling towards the exit.
Tiffany nodded a terse greeting even as her own earth stone became fully active. Of course, this was also broadcasting their exact location to any nearby magicians, but that couldn’t be helped. Something was obviously very wrong here, and she wasn’t going to be caught flatfooted.
Catching the vibe, Valensa was up and moving almost at once. Both the new girl and her sister converged on Tiffany at the same time, each stopping a few feet away. As the normal activity of a coffee shop ebbed and flowed around them, the three witches appraised each other for several moments.
“And you are?” Tiffany coolly asked, placing her full cup on the nearby counter. Up close, the signs of strain and exposure were even more apparent, including a pair of half-healed scratches above one eye.
The strange sorceress glanced all around before replying. “Tiffany, we need to talk.” Briefly, her eyes flickered to Valensa. “Alone.”
“Expecting trouble?” Valensa glanced down at the stranger’s earth stone. “Or are you here to cause some?”
“Please, there’s little time.” Stepping back, the witch peremptorily jerked her head back at the door. “I’ll explain outside.”
“Wait...” Tiffany reached out to grab her wrist, but someone shoved between them to pump a refill from the closest coffee urns. When the view cleared again, the unidentified enchantress was exiting the shop again.
Valensa made to follow, but Tiffany blocked her way. “No. I’ll do this.”
“Something’s very wrong here, Tiff.”
“I know.”
“We don’t even know who she is!”
“Well, she’s definitely one of us.” Indeed, Tiffany had sensed no camouflage magic of any kind. “Though I still can’t quite place her.”
“Look, there’s already been one plot to seize control of the Coven leadership.” Valensa pointedly looked her sister in the eye. “Couldn’t this be another?”
“Anything’s possible.” Watching the new girl confidently stand outside the shop, Earth’s lead sorceress was sure she’d met her before. But where? “However, I don’t thing she’s an assassin.”
“You sure about that?” Valensa jumped slightly as the enchantress magically scanned the entire area. “She sure seems nervous about something.”
“Not nervous, but wary. There’s a difference.” Tossing away the coffee cup, Tiffany began striding towards the door. “Stay here.”
“But I don’t think...”
“I’ll be back.” Without pausing Tiffany passed through the door, ignoring yet another protest from her sister.
Emerging onto the sidewalk, the tall brunette slowly approached the other sorceress. Contrary to expectations, Valensa actually remained inside the coffee shop, intently watching them through the heavy glass. A few other pedestrians passed by, but the two women were largely alone.
&n
bsp; “So here I am.” Stopping a few feet away, Tiffany kept her power subtly raised. “Let’s start with your name.”
“We’re too exposed here.” The other girl brusquely swept her own hair back before half-turning about to once more visually survey their surroundings. “We should find some cover. There’s an abandoned house...”
“No.” Slowly shaking her head, Tiffany remained in place. “Start talking.”
“Tiffany, please!” Angrily stamping a boot, the slightly shorter brunette watched a car drive by. The coffee shop was on a side street in one of Philadelphia’s trendier suburbs, so there wasn’t much traffic this time of day. “We can’t stay here.”
“Sure we can.” Again, Tiffany realized there was something terribly familiar about the other sorceress, who was also acting as if they were already acquainted. “Actually, I’m not going anywhere until I have some answers.”
“But it isn’t safe...”
“Do we know one another?” she pointedly interrupted.“Please. Let’s start with your name?”
Letting out a long sigh, the other girl briefly let her eyes drift closed. “Jenla,” she finally said, now fully focusing on Earth’s lead sorceress once more. “You remember. From Tethra.”
“Jenla?” Standing back, Tiffany couldn’t help looking the mature sorceress up and down. Disoriented, an image of the scrawny girl she’d recently extracted from her sordid home in Tethra mentally superimposed over the adult sorceress confronting her now. Incredibly, they seemed to match. “But we just rescued you. You’re only ten years old!”
“For me, that was fifteen years ago,” Jenla breathed. “A lifetime, really, with everything that’s happened since.”
“But...” Looking into her sad, earnest gaze, Tiffany felt the world almost begin to spin. “How is this even possible?”
“Magic, obviously.”
“Yes, but...”
“Look, Tiffany, we need your help. Desperately.” Putting a hand on her arm, Jenla almost shook. “Caylee is about to betray us all. If we don’t stop her now, over a dozen dimensions will be devastated, and the Coven itself completely wrecked.”
CHAPTER THREE
AFTER ALL THE excitement of the packed Donlon harbor, Caylee found the calm water quite soothing. Still safely underneath the surface, protected from the cold by her wet suit, the young sorceress quickly swam out to the isolated yacht by the bay entrance. Coming to a halt underneath the keel, she breathed the surprisingly clean compressed air and waited.
The acoustics of the situation were quite interesting. Caylee could clearly hear the yacht’s crew tramping about, the soft slap of waves on it’s hull picking up in tempo with the gathering swell. Noise from the Grand Regatta intruded as well, both from the roaring crowd and the sleek craft themselves racing about farther into the bay. The calls of aquatic mammals also drifted into the sheltered anchorage, including the mating cries of what sounded like a sea lion.
But of paramount interest was the approach of the demon’s launch and it’s intriguing magical cargo. The steady crash and pull of oars came ever nearer, culminating in a sharp slam as it came alongside the yacht itself.
This unexpected impact obviously surprised the young lady in the rear of the boat, who began verbally flailing the unfortunate coxswain. Still, even in the midst of her diatribe, Caylee heard ropes being lowered to lift the demon’s safe aboard. No doubt this would prove a time-consuming, laborious operation.
With the crew thus distracted, the sorceress kicked off her flippers and oxygen tank, a strong breast stroke soon bringing her to the rear of the craft. Breaking the surface once more by the idle rudder, she magically opened a sealed port just above the waterline and scrambled up into the craft itself.
The young sorceress found herself in a storage space of some kind, low-ceilinged and pitch black. Uncomfortably crawling over a mass of spare rope, sails, and tackle, Caylee made her way to an interior doorway. Squeezing the spare water from her long hair, she listened intently to the corridor just outside. But as she suspected, no one was down here at the moment.
Taking a deep breath, the enchantress magically switched out her wet suit for a standard tactical outfit, complete with gloves and earth stone safely tucked away on her belt. She then conjured a sophisticated safe cracking device from Vail, including full tumbler decoding and laser penetration.
Clearly, bringing such an advanced device into a world like Donlon was inappropriate, but right now that didn’t matter very much. Caylee needed her magic for sensing and shields, and could use a little technology to actually break into the safe. Plus, different form of magic were often in conflict. If the safe’s contents naturally resisted her own spell craft, needless risk and delay would result.
Even as she flipped on the device’s power switch, the sorceress heard several men grunting and cursing as they lowered the heavy safe through a hatch from the main deck. No doubt they intended to stow it down below, near where Caylee was now. All the better.
Studying the high-tech gauges in the dark, the operative allowed herself a small smile. With any luck, she’d raid the safe and escape the demon’s yacht before anyone even knew she was here.
*****
Standing topside in the hot sun, Lady Wendily quickly retrieved two of the three stones from the safe, then eagerly watched the crew manhandle over a quarter-ton of iron down through a hatch. Max slumped about nearby, a ridiculous figure in his collar and chains. Apprehensively glancing all about, her slave shivered miserably in the hot sun.
Yet even Max’s incessant sniveling couldn’t ruin her mood. Having paraded the safe all about Donlon harbor, the Haven girl couldn’t have failed to notice her poignantly magical cargo. Presumably, the entitled bitch was already aboard, planning some sort of heist. Oh, the witches’ arrogance knew no bounds, but that would be their undoing...
A sudden clatter of loose metal links nearly sent Wendily leaping into a topside cabin. But there was no phalanx of witches storming aboard, magical energy bolts blazing about. Instead, another slight roll merely sent Max stumbling into a wooden railing on his other side, chains rattling yet again.
Furious, the yacht’s relieved mistress fixed her slave with an icy, silver-tinged stare. Her rapid heartbeat only now beginning to slow, Wendily briskly nodded at a nearby storage bin. Promptly sitting down, the awkward youth yelped as a splinter pierced his bare skin.
Of course, Max’s usefulness was nearly at an end. His demeaning erotic enslavement had been her host’s passion, erupting from a toxic brew of rage and sexual awakening in the young girl she’d once been. Actually, human Wendily was quite good for that sort of thing. The supernatural fiend often enjoyed the muffled voice inside her own mind, suggesting all kinds of wicked torments for her juvenile enemies. In many ways they’d made a good team.
But soon, none of that would matter. For once the demon ascended into the Haven witch, there would be no need for Wendily. She’d die happily, though, knowing her very essence was being sucked away to feed the powerful new being she’d done so much to help create.
Letting her eyes drift closed, the demon lifted her beautiful face into the light wind. Really, what was she so afraid of? Soon, the men would finish hauling the safe into the carefully prepared cabin, putting it in the exact space she’d designated. Everything was ready to go.
She was so, so close. And now that the trap had it’s cheese, there was no way the curious mouse would ever escape.
*****
Lady Rhapsony climbed into the raised prow of the large steam launch, wind flowing through her long red hair. A bemused Lord Sathron stood a bit lower down on the main deck, one hand holding onto his expensive top hat. Behind the two demons, the main stack belched a huge puff of smoke as the boiler was rapidly stoked.
Having just left the dock area, Lady Wendily’s yacht was still a long way off. Frustrated, Rhapsony studied it through her spy glass. “They just brought that damn safe down below.”
“You don’t say,” Sathron drawle
d.
“Damn it.” Wiping some spray from the end of the glass, she again focused the instrument on the other end of the huge anchorage. “We may not get there in time.”
“In time for what?”
“To stop her, of course!”
“Would you listen to yourself, my dear?” Mounting the few steps up onto the prow himself, the dandy lord put a casual hand on her back. “While I’ll admit Wendily is often unforgivably gauche...”
“That’s not what this is about.”
“...she does have the right to sail off on her yacht.” Firmly taking the telescope from her hand, Sathron idly oriented the device on the far vessel. “Or to take a safe onto it, if she so chooses.”
“Not if that safe contains what I think it does.” Frowning, she glanced back at the launch captain. “Can’t this thing go any faster?” she yelled.
“You really think Wendily might already have the girl’s earth stone?” Sathron asked.
“She might have more than that.” Glancing about the anchorage, Rhapsony idly noted that the first race was drawing to a close. “That safe might be big enough to hold a person.”
“No, I think not.” Sathron considered a moment. “If, as you suspect, Wendily already has the witch, she wouldn’t be stuffing her in a safe and then running off to a yacht. She’d just stay in her mansion here in town, consolidating her gains.”
Frowning, Rhapsony realized that made sense. “So what’s in the safe?”
“I have no idea.” Grabbing the bulwark, Sathron steadied himself against a sharp swell. “But I suspect you won’t give this up until you find out.”
*****
Still hidden below, Caylee listened to several cursing men lower the massive safe through a hatch. Someone had thought to rig a block and tackle to help, but it was still quite the operation. A muffled thud resulted in a bellow of pain, while another crewman fretfully, and continuously, warned his mates against any damage to their lady’s “prize.”