by Phil Stern
Buying a small bag of treats, Jena joined Tiffany at a delicate table in the back of the store. Having already constructed a sound barrier around them, all the curious older man behind the counter would hear is vague mumbling.
“All right then,” the senior sorceress began. “What’s our next step?”
“We go to the home that contains the portal connecting London and Donlon,” Jenla cheerily announced. “I have the address. It’s not far from here, I believe.”
“Tell me about the portal itself.”
“Not much to tell,” she admitted. “Frankly, we don’t know any details. But it’s definitely in the home of Lady Richardson, a noted socialite and wife of Lord Richardson. They’re both leading members of the Locomotion Society, a secret organization claiming to have discovered an alternate dimension.”
Bleakly eyeing her companion, Tiffany slowly took a bite of candy. “Say again?”
“Yeah, I guess some things just never make the history books.” Clearly, Jenla enjoyed knowing more about Earth than the Coven’s lead sorceress there. “The Society claims leading members throughout English society. Obviously they know about Donlon. No doubt the cross-dem contamination is out of control.”
“And they managed to keep this all secret?”
“Don’t forget, this was a highly mystical culture. Everyone had a story and a secret. Those not directly in the know probably thought it was all a bunch of bullshit.”
Frowning, Tiffany looked out through the front glass window at the street outside. “So what finally happened to this Locomotion Society?”
“There was apparently some type of schism after World War I. Most of the Locomotives, as they were called, killed one another off in the twenties and thirties. The last of them were wiped out in 1941, when a big German bomb obliterated the Richardson manor, which by then was owned by their son.”
“Which also severed the inter-dimensional portal,” Tiffany concluded.
“Leading to our presence here today.” Beaming, Jenla finished the last of her chocolate. “Come on, my Lady. The Richardson salon generally gets going around five, and we don’t want to be late.”
*****
Staring at herself in the full-length mirror, Lady Wendily surveyed the damage from yesterday’s battle in Donlon harbor. A bulky bandage covered her broken nose, making it almost appear as if the young noble had grown some kind of misshapen beak. Still, the gauze and cloth wasn’t wide enough to completely cover the earth fire scars radiating out along her cheeks, chin, and even up onto Wendily’s forehead. She was also adorned with various other cuts, bruises, and other injuries, most notably a broken finger on the demon’s right hand, along with minor burns on her neck and ear.
Clearly, she’d done battle with one of the damnable Haven witches and come out the worse for wear. Yet Wendily had been the lucky one. Sathron and Rhapsony were both gone, the former literally ripped apart in the tremendous yacht explosion, while the latter’s tattered body was found on some beach.
Thankfully, it appeared as if both demons had permanently expired. Officially, of course, Wendily was shocked and dismayed at their passing. Privately, things couldn’t have worked out better, as all knowledge of her own transgressions died with them.
Now she could spin yesterday’s tragedy anyway she liked. The easiest story would be that the crazed witch had swum out and stowed away in Wendily’s yacht. Sathron and Rhapsony had dropped by for a visit, with Caylee viciously assailing the male demon when he went below to use the head. Rhapsony and Wendily had valiantly come to Sathron’s assistance, even gaining the advantage near the end, but the mad sorceress had blown up the ship rather than submit to capture.
Like all good lies, her account was actually laced with long stretches of quasi-truth. It also smoothly played upon the Conclave’s worst fears, that the witch would begin stalking and attacking them when they least expected it. Under the circumstances, she didn’t expect the other demon lords and ladies to quibble over details.
So while Wendily’s master plan to ascend directly into the witch had failed, the aftermath still worked to her advantage. Sathron and Rhapsony were gone, while Jarton continued gallivanting about in that hooligan George. With a powerful, homicidal magician still stampeding about, a desperate Conclave would naturally turn to Wendily as their savior. As a condition for her leadership, she would insist upon nothing less than dictatorial powers over the entire city for the duration of the crisis. And when, throughout the history of the entire universe, has a dictator ever willingly given up power?
Letting out a satisfied sigh, Wendily exited the bedroom while yelling for her carriage. Daintily descending the grand, curling stairwell down to the main foyer, she very much looked forward to the emergency session of the Lord’s Conclave soon to begin.
*****
The two sorceresses regally swept along the London sidewalk towards the Richardson manor. Having touched up their wardrobes in the candy shop bathroom, both Tiffany and Jenla were now radiant young aristocrats of the first order. Each wore expensive dresses, shoes, and jewels, their hair meticulously arranged in the latest style. Everyone curtsied and bowed at their approach, several passersby letting their gazes linger for longer than proper courtesy would normally dictate.
“Well, we seem to be making a good impression so far,” Jenla murmured. “Though we probably won’t fool these people forever.”
“We don’t have to,” Tiffany replied, even as they turned off the wide sidewalk onto the Richardson property. “All we need to do is get into the house and find the direct passageway to Donlon.”
“I’m sure it’s protected somehow,” Jenla mused. “Maybe it’s in a locked room. Or a hidden space, perhaps?”
“Sure. The secret inter-dimensional passageway behind the fireplace.” Now approaching the wide front steps of the manor house itself, Tiffany majestically ignored the two uniformed footmen standing rigidly at attention to either side. “Everyone here must have one.”
Climbing the short stairs to the porch, the ornate front doors swung wide open to reveal a frosty butler. “Ladies, welcome.” Half-stepping outside, he professionally contemplated the two unknown visitors. “Who may I say Lady Richardson has the honor of receiving?”
Wearing frilly white gloves, Tiffany held out an exquisitely engraved card. “Lady Mary Montgomery and Lady Elizabeth Montgomery.”
“I see.” Raising a bushy white eyebrow, the butler still made no move to let them pass. “Are you related to Earl Montgomery, by chance?” he queried, giving the proffered card a perfunctory glance. “Or Viscount Montgomery of Kent?”
“We’re related to a lot of people,” Jenla smoothly riposted. “Some of whom you may not even be familiar with.”
“My good lady.” Drawing himself up, the butler unconsciously jerked down on his own jacket. “I am familiar with every noble family that ever...”
“Please. It’s hot out here.” Smiling, Tiffany nodded past the butler at the home’s interior. “May we please come in? Or should we inform Lady Richardson of the exact cause of our delay?”
Blinking furiously, the butler reluctantly stood aside. “Ladies, I bid you welcome. Please, do come in.”
Lady Richardson herself greeted them in the grand foyer, eyes briefly flicking over the calling card provided by the butler.
“Lady Mary and Lady Elizabeth. How delightful.” Standing back a few steps, she nodded approvingly at their appearance. “If anything, your reputations fail to do you justice. Such grand beauty and elegance do honor to our humble home.”
“The honor is all ours, my Lady.” Demurely nodding, Jenla then deliberately met Lady Richardson’s eye. “The stars in the heavens guide us here, where we hope to find agreeable companions in the grand adventure awaiting all of humanity.”
This rather cumbersome contact line was pulled from the diary of a Locomotive Society member recovered by a Coven operative in another dimension. How the diary wound up there, nobody knows. But according to Jenla, it’s
mere utterance should be enough to assure Lady Richardson they were fellow Locomotives.
And indeed, Lady Richardson’s face immediately radiated surprised pleasure. “Oh, my dears, how delightful!” Taking both of their hands, there were almost tears in her eyes. “I knew you’d come! Please, let’s meet everyone else.”
With Tiffany and Jenla in tow, Lady Richardson grandly swept into a drawing room off the main foyer. A half-dozen people were already there. All conversation immediately ceased, everyone closely appraising the two undercover operatives.
“Please, everyone, let’s greet some more agreeable companions!” she breathlessly announced. “Ladies Mary and Elizabeth Montgomery!”
An older man in the corner promptly belched. “Never heard of them,” he grumbled, sadly staring down into his empty glass. “Where’s that damn footman?”
“Montgomery, did you say?” asked a pudgy, middle-aged woman. “Of Kent?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Tiffany smoothly agreed. “And it’s been such a long journey. Lady Richardson, is there anywhere I can freshen up?”
“Of course, my dear. But we’re all so anxious...”
“My sister here will give you a brief account of our adventures so far,” Tiffany announced, making a point of catching Jenla’s eye. “Just skimming the highlights. The road from Kent, and so on. Nothing too exciting.”
“Yes, sister,” Jenla merrily replied. “I’ll be appropriately boring, don’t worry.”
“Oh, you could never be boring, I’m sure!” Finally releasing their hands, the matron indicated a doorway leading off from the other end of drawing room. “Just let me show Lady Mary...”
“Oh no, I can manage.” With a pleasant smile, Tiffany pointedly strode off between the other guests and plunged deeper into the house.
It was a long passageway, oddly dark after the brightly lit drawing room. Pausing on the creaky wooden floor, Tiffany magically searched for any type of inter-dimensional oddities. Sure enough, she immediately detected something down below, probably in the basement. Raw and throbbing, the rift was intermingled with a foreign strain of magic. Never before had she sensed anything like it.
Actually, the entire house was imbued with a decidedly unstable aura. Really, how it managed to survive until World War II is a wonder. For even the tiniest spark, either magical or otherwise, would be enough to blow the entire structure sky high.
Waiting several moments more, she then lightly strolled back into the drawing room. Still beside Lady Richardson, Jenla was now also flanked by two eager young men. Before Tiffany could join them the middle-aged woman blocked her way.
“The Montgomery’s of Kent, you say?” Drawing back, her lower lip oddly fluttered. “I know all the family, and have never heard of...”
“Oh Mary, you’ll be so pleased!” Jenla loudly called out. “Master John here has invited us to his estate next week!”
“How delightful!” Tiffany energetically ducked around the dour woman and continued on to her fellow sorceress. “Though I’m sure he meant to invite our dear mama as well, to act as chaperone?”
“Yes, of course.” Grinning impishly, the young aristocrat actually winked at her. “Though if your dear mama was indisposed, there’s no reason why her ravishing daughters couldn’t come alone, now is there?”
“Don’t be rude, my lord.” Blushing, the older Lady Richardson possessively took Jenla’s arm. “We’ve only met Ladies Mary and Elizabeth, and are anxious to hear of their adventures in the other world!”
At this, everyone in the room unconsciously stiffened, some even apprehensively glancing about. Maybe, Tiffany thought, they felt Lady Richardson was being unduly open with her new guests? Or perhaps some Locomotives merely valued the Society’s social and political connections, not quite believing all these fantastic tales of other dimensions?
“Yes, of course.” Also catching the odd vibe, Jenla cautiously smiled. “But my dear Lady Richardson, I just so love your necklace.” Leaning in, she studied an expensive gold locket with a tiny orange-flecked stone. “May I?”
“Why, of course,” she proudly replied, holding out the setting for inspection. “Though I’m sure you know what it is!”
At this tiny movement, Tiffany was nearly bowled over by a noxious draft of alien magic. Clearly, this was an extraterrestrial artifact from the inter-dimensional rift. Jenla somehow managed to actually touch the thing, though her gloved fingers surely helped. “A fine piece indeed,” she commented.
“But Lady Elizabeth, I’m sure you have your own baubles?” Richardson cooed. “Let’s see, please!”
Briefly glancing at Tiffany, Jenla then pulled out her earth stone on it’s chain. “I only show this to special friends,” she murmured, raising an eyebrow at Master John and his eager male companion.
“Now Elizabeth, let’s not show the boys here too much right off.” Grinding her back teeth together as the opposing magical objects began pulsing, Tiffany could almost imagine the house erupting all around them. “That’s hardly proper, is it?”
“I’m sorry.” Regretfully tucking her talisman away, Jenla shrugged. “My sister is such a prude sometimes.”
“No, not at all.” Breathing hard, Lady Richardson stared at Jenla’s neckline, where the now-concealed earth stone had been last seen. “Incredible, my dear. Absolutely stunning!”
“I couldn’t agree more,” the second young man smirked. “It makes me long to see all your hidden treasures!”
“My, my Mary,” Jenla exclaimed, turning to her sister in mock consternation. “These young gentleman are so forward! Can you imagine what papa would say?”
“Nothing good, I’m sure.” Holding the other sorceress’s eye, Tiffany nodded back at the passageway she’d just emerged from. “But Elizabeth, I need your help with my, uh, corset. So if you could just come with me...”
“No, I’m sure I’ve never heard of you,” declared the quiver-lipped woman from behind. “Montgomery girls you are definitely not!”
At this, a mild argument erupted between Lady Richardson and her doubting guest. Firmly extricating Jenla from her besotted admirers, Tiffany led the other sorceress from the room.
“Are you crazy?” she whispered as soon as they were alone. “Putting your earth stone near her necklace?”
“I was careful.”
“Careful? In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re literally standing in some kind of magical powder keg!”
“Uh, how did these women stand to be trussed up like this all day?” Exasperated, Jenla loosened her tight collar. “Relax, I’ve dealt with those stones before.”
“You have? Where?”
“The demons use them,” she replied. “As weapons.”
Tiffany was very still. “But none of those people...”
“No, there aren’t any demons here.” Keeping her voice low, Jenla listened for a moment to the voices drifting back from the other room. “If there were, we wouldn’t be standing here having this pleasant conversation.”
“Well, we’re on the right track then.” Sighing, Tiffany also undid a button on her neckline.“I think the portal is in the basement.”
“Let’s go.”
Using the utmost caution, Tiffany magically unlocked a heavy door leading downstairs. Lightly treading down a reinforced wooden stairway, they soon found themselves staring at a misty pool in the center of the basement floor. The inter-dimensional opening was round, about seven feet in diameter, with an odd haze rising up from the surface. An occasional pocket of air bubbled up from the depths, with the water itself intermittently lapping up on the surrounding granite.
A few wooden tables occupied the corners, upon which were stacked various odds and ends. Shoes, shirts, waterlogged books and pamphlets, watches, figurines, and other assorted inter-dimensional flotsam. Briefly scanning the items, Tiffany found everything suffused with the same foreign energy as Lady Richardson’s necklace.
“Uh.” Turning aside, Jenla held a handkerchief to her nose. “By the s
tone, does it reek in here.”
“Yeah. Building a house over this rift was a very dangerous thing to do.” First carefully powering down her earth stone, Tiffany leaned down to inspect the water more closely. “It’s like the world’s worst gas buildup, just waiting to ignite.”
“Well, a German air raid will take care of that soon enough.” Following her lead, Jenla also muted her magical output. “Now we just need to get out of here.”
Right on cue, someone began banging on the door at the top of the basement stairway. “Lady Mary! Lady Elizabeth!” a female voice cried out. “Please let me in at once!”
“The good Lady Richardson isn’t happy,” Jenla drily observed. “What a shame.”
“Come on, my lady.” Rising once more, Tiffany began ripping off her heavy Victorian gown. “We need to get moving.”
A minute later the two Coven-mates had stripped down to their underclothes. Black tactical suits would be better, but a magical wardrobe change was out of the question. By the time they were ready and standing on opposite sides of the pool, someone had taken a sledgehammer to the door.
“You first. Go,” Tiffany instructed, even as the wood began to splinter. “I’ll be right behind you.”
“See you on the other side.” Holding her nose, Jenla jumped up and above the pool. Dropping straight down, she was instantly swallowed by the murky water.
With a sickening crash, the basement door gave way. Taking a deep breath, Tiffany also leapt up and over the water, rocketing down into the inter-dimensional rift even as the first footsteps came clattering down the stairs.
*****
Eighteen sets of eyes, many of them whirling a soft silver, uneasily stared at Lady Wendily. For the past twenty minutes she’d been regaling her fellow demons with a sanitized account of the battle in Donlon harbor, including the heroic deaths of Sathron and Rhapsony. Sitting at the end of the long table, she finished her tale with just the right note of firm resolve.
“But, my Lords and Ladies, I promise you this.” Half-rising in her seat, Wendily gave a solemn nod. “With your support, this witch will be hunted down and killed. We’ll hang her body in a public square, and mount her smashed earth stone here, on this very table, as a reminder of our everlasting might!”