by Phil Stern
“Yes, I know all about that. The pets and all. Father did so enjoy tormenting you as a child.” Settling down on a plush chair, the male demon shrugged. “If it makes you feel any better, he was barely any kinder to me.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Well, I’ve taken care of dear old Dad for both of us. His body is being removed by the undertakers as we speak.”
“I would expect nothing less,” Wendily sighed. “After all, one can’t have your real, low-class father hanging around while masquerading as the son of an actual lord, now can you?”
“Indeed. Though at the moment, the Conclave has much bigger issues to address than my host’s lineage.” Settling back, Max stiffly laid both hands on the plush armrests. “Things have become much more complicated since your little power grab went horribly awry.”
“Caylee has gotten even bolder, I take it?”
“Karot is dead. Expired. Both host and demon.”
“What a shame.” Legs primly crossed, Wendily ran a gloved finger along the immaculate couch cushion to one side. “Our blonde friend is proving a worthy adversary.”
“Not just her.” Now Max leaned forward. “George was there. He swears there are now at least four witches in Donlon. They publically executed Karot in broad daylight.”
“Really?” While evincing no outward reaction, Wendily’s breathing quickened a touch. “Four of them?”
“Quite so.”
“Then the Coven has invaded our dimensional hideout in some force.”
“If true, then yes.”
“Is there some reason to doubt our rough and rustic colleague?”
Max loosened his fine collar a touch. “Let’s just say that in his present host the former Lord Jarton doesn’t inspire complete confidence.”
“I see.” Regally leaning back, Wendily pointedly inspected his new look. “Takes some getting used to, doesn’t it? Wearing clothes and all?”
“Is that all you have to say?”
“What else can I say?” With a girlish shrug, she indicated her general surroundings. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m under house arrest. All I can do is play with my dolls and dream of bigger things.”
“Wendily, the Coven may be rampaging about, and all you...”
“Oh, and torture my butler,” she dreamily interrupted. “But you’ve taken even that away.”
“Please, we have no time for trivialities.”
“Of course, if I were in a man’s body, there would be no end to my little amusements.” With a knowing smile, she nodded down at his crotch. “Or haven’t you taken our little friend out for a spin yet?”
The self-styled Lord Osler calmly stared at her. “This is no joking matter.”
“Who says I’m joking?” Now Wendily casually spread her arms to either side atop the sofa cushions. “After all, with all the fun we had together, I certainly wouldn’t blame you pursuing a continuation of our previous relationship.”
Taking a deep breath, Max slowly rose to his feet once more. “The Conclave is leaving Donlon on a ship. A temporary relocation to one of the provinces.”
“Really?” An exaggerated pout. “And I take it I’m not invited?”
“You will stay here and hold them off,” he softly announced. “With the help of the police, the army, and anything else you can get your hands on.”
A long moment went by, the two demons mutely contemplating one another.
“So. I’m to fight a rearguard action, while the rest of you flee like rats,” Wendily finally concluded. “That doesn’t sound very fair.”
“Fair? You’re getting a chance to redeem yourself.” Pulling off a glove, Max looked back down at the chair he’d just vacated. Pointing a single finger, he slowly traced a thin flame all over the plush cushions. “Which, frankly, is more than you deserve.”
“Oh, I see.” As smoke filled the room, Wendily tried not to blink. “Do you intend to burn down the entire house?”
“Look at it this way. You wanted to be a dictator, right?” Closing his hand into a fist beside the now-fully engulfed chair, Max smiled. “Now’s your chance.”
Drumming her fingers on the cushions, Wendily watched him jauntily make his way back across the drawing room. “Au revoir, my sweet.” Spinning about, he executed a formal bow. “See you around the universe.”
As the last flap of his fine tails disappear around the corner, Wendily turned to stare out the large front windows. A moment later two terrified servants rushed in with buckets of water to energetically douse the burning chair.
*****
Tiffany Smith moodily stared at the nearby wood line, magical senses finely attuned to her immediate surroundings. Arms folded, she listened to a pair of chipmunks scramble about several hundred yards off, which in turn attracted the attention of a small owl. Deeper in, a mother deer and fawn delicately traced their way through the thick trees, pointedly avoiding an old dog trail. There was even a small wild cat perched on a stout branch, hoping some innocent prey would wander right by. Of people, however, there was no sign at all.
Relaxing slightly, the sorceress glanced up at the darkening sky. A dizzying collection of unfamiliar constellations were beginning to form, as if some illicit blueprint had been mistakenly plastered across the very heavens. Eyes drifting closed, stiff breezes blowing dark hair all about, the sorceress absorbed the pleasant natural energy of this belligerent new world.
Much had changed over the past several hours. Fleeing the city that afternoon, Caylee had been a crying and confused mess. Still, their young Coven-mate had managed to direct them to this abandoned manor home. Apparently the surrounding countryside was full of them, the demons much preferring bustling city scape to open space.
The battle in Highsmith Square had also taken it’s toll on Sarina. Their Coven-mate was badly hurt, having suffered several broken ribs and a suspected concussion in the Gatling gun attack. Though resting comfortably inside, her mobility and offensive prowess were definitely compromised.
Physically speaking, Jenla had endured only a wrenched wrist, bruised nose, and mild cut to the forehead. However, the time traveling sorceress had been unusually sullen during the trip here. Quietly following Tiffany’s lead, she’d openly ignored Caylee’s attempts at tactical coordination.
The big question now was how to get everyone safely back to Haven. For without any known Boundary access, there was no clear line of retreat. Yes, Donlon did sport an odd collection of scattered inter-dimensional rifts leading who-knows-where. But lest anyone forget, it was Caylee’s ill-advised use of a strange rift that had gotten them all into this mess in the first place. Jumping into another one now would almost surely make things even worse.
Of course, there was always the time-shifting conduit back to Victorian-era Earth. But despite their best efforts, Tiffany and Jenla had managed to attract plenty of attention on their way here. Reversing that route with four people sounded unduly complicated, even if they could sneak the whole crew back into an active quarry within sight of Donlon itself.
Thoughtfully tying back her hair, Tiffany turned back to the manor home. Yes, this was quite the mess, but she’d been through worse. If they kept moving and avoided hostile contact, surely something would turn up. Mounting the broad, wrap-around porch in four large steps, the sorceress confidently strode through the front door.
Her three companions were sitting in the drawing room, pointedly not looking at one another. Clearly in pain, Sarina half sat up on a couch. Jenla stared out a grimy window, still lost in her own world. Caylee was perched on a comfy chair, almost shivering, legs drawn up underneath her. By unspoken consent they had all changed back in standard witch jeans, shirt, and boots.
“All right, then,” Tiffany cheerfully announced, sitting backwards on a simple wooden chair facing the others. “First things first. Caylee, what the fuck is wrong with your earth stone?”
“It’s broken. A demon attacked it.” She then launched into an overly detailed, vaguely incoherent descri
ption of the engagement in Donlon harbor.
“Listen, you can write a book later, all right?” Sarina soon interrupted. “Just pass it over here. I can fix it.”
Hesitating, Caylee glanced at Tiffany. At her nod she took off the magical talisman, tossing the entire necklace into Sarina’s waiting hand. “Fine. Fix it.”
Raising an eyebrow at the younger girl’s tone, Sarina began examining the damaged earth stone. Hesitantly watching, the 18-year-old nearly leapt across the room when the other sorceress sent a strong surge of her own power directly into it. “Hey, be careful!”
“Caylee, sit down.” Though not raising her voice, Tiffany’s tone brooked no argument. “Sarina will get it up and running again. You will continue your story.”
Frequently glancing over at Sarina, the young blonde then related Wendily’s attack in the yacht’s hold, along with her attempted takeover. “It was horrible,” she finally sobbed. “She was actually in my mind, and then...” Jumping up, Caylee’s hand flashed up to her naked throat at a soft thump outside. “By the stone, what was that?”
“A blown branch,” Tiffany soothed. “Now go on. We need to understand what happened here.”
“But I don’t understand any of this!” she declared, heavily dropping back down on the chair. “For starters, why didn’t she just take my earth stone away entirely? Without it, I wouldn’t have had a chance, even with Max’s help!”
“If she’d done that, then the demon wouldn’t have been able to control your magic once she’d enslaved you.” Jenla’s voice had a heavy, pedantic lilt, as if she were some college professor explaining the obvious to a dull student. “They have to ascend into a sorceress with their magic intact, or they’re just taking over another powerless human host.”
“And how would you know that?” Caylee demanded, turning to her for the first time. “I’ve been the one here fighting demons, not you!”
“Oh, I know,” Jenla softly replied. “Actually, I know a lot of things about all this.”
“Oh really?” she shot back. “And how can that be, when I don’t even recognize you...”
A loud spark of magic erupted from the recalcitrant earth stone, still cupped in Sarina’s hands. Visibly flinching, Caylee’s head snapped around. “Careful! Please!”
“Will you relax?” Even while concentrating on her work, Sarina uncomfortably shifted about from her broken ribs. “It sounds worse than it is.”
“Really? Because it sounds like you’re breaking it more!”
“Caylee...” Trailing off, Tiffany wearily rubbed her forehead. “Could you give us all a break here? Maybe just for a menlar, even?”
“Sorry.” Biting her lower lip, she again looked away. “Look, I know you and Sarina really helped me out there.”
“Just them, huh?” Jenla laughed. “And what about me?”
“You attacked me with a Coven Stick!” Caylee yelled. “So no, I don’t think...”
“Stop it!” Tiffany commanded. “Both of you!”
For some moments no one said anything, the only sound coming from the robust wind and Sarina’s work on the broken earth stone. A single tear ran down Caylee’s face, which she tried to surreptitiously wipe away.
“Look, we’re not trying to gang up on you here...” Tiffany finally began.
“Well, it certainly feels like it!”
“But I have to ask,” she continued. “When we found you in Highsmith Square, you were accosting some local cops.”
“And out in the open, no less,” Jenla added. “Which is why I thought you were already a demon.”
“Already a demon?” Caylee bitterly repeated, once more turning about. “You know, you act like you have some kind of special fucking insight into all of this, when all you’re really doing...”
“Caylee, focus.” Picking up a dusty picture from a nearby table, Tiffany studied the young couple proudly posing in the very room in which they were now sitting. “Why were you fighting those bobbies?”
“Actually, here’s a better question,” Sarina interjected. “Why were you waging some kind of personal war here, when you should have been laying low and trying to get out?”
For several seconds the youngest operative said nothing, finally looking away. “It’s complicated,” she finally mumbled.
“See what I mean?” Jenla’s finger pointed at Caylee while she addressed Tiffany. “There’s something very wrong here.”
“You joined up with some resistance group, didn’t you?” Sarina spoke while continuing her work. “In violation of everything you were taught about field ops, you got all wrapped up in the local bullshit.”
“By the stone, aren’t any of you listening?” Again leaping up, Caylee helplessly raised her hands. “I was attacked, repeatedly, in a strange dimension...”
“That you shouldn’t have even been in,” Tiffany added. “No one told you to come here.”
“Well, I did come here!” she defiantly replied. “And I did everything right, until...”
“Everything right?” Within Sarina’s hands, the talisman let out a final loud pop before settling into a healthy green glow. “You didn’t even check the local newspaper, you idiot! I had a contact ad running every day!”
“Really? I didn’t think of that.” Breathing heavily, Caylee extended a plaintive hand in her direction. “Are you done?”
“Done.” Painfully leaning back, Sarina flipped the necklace back in her direction. “You’re welcome.”
Gratefully catching and slipping the chain around her neck once more, the young sorceress cupped both hands around the glowing power source. Eyes drifting closed, breathing heavily, Caylee almost shook in relief as the potent magic again flowed throughout her being.
“Well, look at that,” Jenla drawled, propping her boots up on an expensive coffee table. “Somebody’s having a magical orgasm.”
Letting out a final slow breath, Caylee’s green-tinged eyes slowly focused on the lounging brunette. “Somehow, you and I have never met before...”
“Oh, we have. I assure you.”
“Really? As far as I can tell, you just popped out of the ground.” For the first time in a while, Caylee smiled. “But let me assure you of something. When we get back to Haven, you and I are going to find a nice quiet place, where I will give you a thrashing...”
“Enough!” Sarina exclaimed, pointing at the front door. “Caylee, you’re giving me a headache. Get out.”
“With magic. Without. I don’t care.” Ignoring her superior, she stood and took a step closer to Jenla. “But you will learn...”
“Okay, tough girl, enough.” Rising herself, Tiffany blocked Caylee’s advance. “Sarina told you to get out, which is a wonderful idea right now.” Twirling her around by the shoulders, she then applied a hearty shove. “Now go!”
Stumbling off several steps, the re-powered sorceress soon caught her balance. Looking back, she gave each of them a murderous glare before stalking out of the drawing room. The front door opened and slammed shut a moment later.
“By the stone, is she a mess.” Wearily twisting her neck from side to side, Sarina magically conjured a bottle of water. “Though I must say, Jenla, you aren’t helping.”
“Maybe you’re right,” she sighed. “It’s just weird being in the same room with a fully human Caylee Nuxan.”
“Well, get used to it quickly, will you?” Tiffany slowly sat down once more. “In this time line she’s just a scared girl who’d been through a lot.”
“Agreed. But let’s not baby her either.” Sarina nodded at the front door. “I’m not sure she appreciates all the mistakes she’s made.”
“Be that as it may, we need to get her out of this dimension.” Jenla airily waved a hand about. “Until Caylee vacates Donlon, I won’t be certain we’ve really altered the time line.”
“Oh, please.” Tiffany rubbed a sore calf. “We’re past all that now, aren’t we?”
“I think so too,” the auburn-haired sorceress said. “On her own, Cayl
ee would have been captured and turned eventually. It might have even happened today, in Highsmith Square, if we hadn’t shown up. But not anymore.”
“You don’t know the demons like I do.” Jenla gave a sour shrug. “They won’t give up. Eventually, we’ll be found here.”
“Well, you’re right about that. We can stay a night, but no more.” Sarina took another swig of water. “This might even be a safe house for that gang of hers. Which means other people know of it.”
“Gang?” Now Tiffany conjured a bag of potato chips. “That’s a little strong, don’t you think?”
“Well, they run drugs and prostitutes. That much I picked up from several bar patrons.”
“And in case you missed it, they did blow up a building today,” Jenla observed. “With Caylee’s help, no less.”
“Not help. She was just there.” Still, Tiffany thought it best to change the subject. “But you’re both right about this house. With some unicorns and a battle hawk or two we might be able to hide out for several days. As it is...”
“Yes, we have to go.” Painfully twisting her torso once more, Sarina gave a definitive nod. “I’ll be ready to move tomorrow.”
“And her?” Jenla asked, vaguely nodding outside the house. “How much do we tell her about me?”
“Let me go figure that out right now.” Tiffany stood once more. “You have an extra Coven Stick, right?”
“You really want to arm her?” Reaching into her magical travel bag, Sarina tentatively pulled out one of the potent weapons. “In her current state?”
“She’ll be fine.” Smiling, she pointedly took the Coven Stick. “Don’t worry.” Before either of them could object further, the regal brunette turned and followed her younger Coven-mate out through the foyer and front door.
Much as Tiffany herself had done just a short time ago, Caylee was standing in the yard, arms folded, staring out at the world. Breathing heavily, her taut figure nearly smoldered with barely suppressed frustration. Yet her magic was strong and sure once more, with wisps of gentle earth fire rising from her jeans, boots, and pure white shirt. Blonde hair blowing about in the strong wind, she didn’t turn about as Tiffany came up beside her.