by R D Martin
"Then you really had nothing to do with his disappearance?"
"I told you that, didn't I?"
"Well, I, uh, it's just…" She trailed off and tried to ignore the burning in her cheeks.
"It's just that she didn't trust you," Cat said. Rising to his feet, the feline stretched and looked up. "I believe you, but then, I'm a trusting soul. Is there anything to eat in here? I'm starving."
Bella stared at her familiar. Trusting soul? Cat?
"So, then, what do we do? The Finder is still missing and they're going to execute me for murder."
"I'm still looking into the murder, and I promise to do all I can, but the decision for that is up to the Conclave leaders. I'm sorry." He shook his head, and for the first time, she believed him. "But as for your missing boss, well, I have an idea."
"You do? What? What is it?" Her heart beat a staccato that threatened to explode in her chest.
"It will not be easy. In fact, there's only a handful of magic users that could do it."
"I don't care. Just tell me please. I'll do it. I'll do anything."
"Ha," Cat exclaimed from across the room. "You'd better believe it. She's really crazy enough to try anything, no matter how dumb I tell her it is."
The feline turned and stared at the two humans, both of whom were staring back at him.
"What?" he said, tilting his head. "It's true."
21
"You're not focusing," Wallace said. It had been his major complaint for the last fifteen minutes, and Bella was tiring of it.
"It's hard to focus when I'm sitting on a hard floor, bent like a pretzel, and listening to you yelling at me to focus every two minutes."
"I wouldn't have to yell if you'd just listen."
"I am listening. You're the one not listening. I know how to do this."
"You think you can access the world of mist? Fine, go ahead. It took me thirty years to learn. Hell, your father was a genius, and it still took him more than a decade." Turning, he stomped to a chair and dropped to the seat, looking for all the world like a petulant child.
"It really took you thirty years?" she asked, unfolding her legs and pulling her knees beneath her chin.
"Almost, yeah. Most magic users never even touch the mists, that's if they even know about it. Your father theorized that if we could directly access it, not only would we be able to manipulate magic without using spells, but with the proper application of his principles, we could save magic entirely."
"I'm not sure it works like that," Bella replied. Her shoulders knotted tighter the more she listened to him speak. How could she have learned to access something it had taken Wallace and her father so long to do?
"And why's that, O great and powerful one? Please enlighten us with your theory." His voice dripped with sarcasm, and Bella was more than a little tempted to show him what she could do.
"The mists are just that, mists. They run around and through everything, yeah. But I've never really been able to do more than cast spells without words. Gar can do way more than me, though. Maybe he can explain it better."
"Oh, so you've mastered the mists, and this Gar is even better?" He barked a laugh, and the sound was like fingernails on Bella's soul.
That's it. Rising to her feet, ignoring the cramping in her lower back from sitting in Wallace's uncomfortable position for so long, she closed her eyes and imagined a flame and began feeding it. Every question and irritation, every emotion and thought went into the fire until there was nothing left but her and the void. When she opened her eyes again, the world around her filled with colored mists.
The rainbow-hued mist filled the room, swirling and eddying as it passed around and through objects and people. Just like the last time she'd tried to access the mist, though, she felt something wrong. It was like there was just too much of it concentrated in one place. Almost as if it was reading her thoughts, the mist moved, flowing toward her, filling her up as though she were a half-empty cup. And as she held it, pain shot through her, searing and cutting her from the inside out. Her heart thundered and the emptiness she held on to shook, cracking around the edges. The mist poured in, filling her, charging her cells as if begging to be used.
If it wanted to be used so badly, she'd use it. She didn't raise her hands, nor did she say a single word; rather, she thought about what she wanted the magic to do, guiding its flow instead of forcing it to obey her will. This was what Gar had spent almost a year teaching her to do, and now it came as easy as breathing. The mist shifted with her thoughts, flowing to encircle Wallace and his chair. She almost smiled as she thought about the surprise he was in for.
"Hold on," she said, giving him some warning before she pushed the mist. Both he and his seat shot up a foot in the air and hovered. Bella saw Wallace's face turn white and felt a slight spark of pleasure warm her center at making him eat his words. As quickly as it appeared, though, she fed it into the candle flame. Any powerful emotion could destroy the emptiness and force her out of the mists.
"How, how are you doing this?" Wallace squeaked as his chair began rotating in place. His fingers had already turned white as they gripped the chair’s arms, but at this new movement, it was like they were trying to dig themselves into the material.
"I told you, I know how to enter the world of mists. It's easy." She left out telling him it took her ten hours a day of concentration for a year before she could see the mists, and months after before she could do more than light a candle. Best to let him think she was just that good.
"Can you put me down? Please?"
Bella smiled and guided the mists of magic away, or at least tried to. It was as if the magic had a mind of its own and didn't want to stop being used, like it had found an outlet and would not stop.
"Okay, Bella. I believe you, I believe you." Wallace's chair spun faster.
"Bella," said Cat, "as fun as it is to watch him spin like a top, I think he's learned his lesson." The humor in her familiar's voice was unmistakable, and she sighed. He was right, though.
Concentrating, she forced the mists to move away from the chair, overruling its desire to be used the way a parent overrules a child's demand for candy. The chair slowed and, in short order, came to a stop. With another thought, she lowered it to touch down on the floor as smoothly as a pilot landing a plane.
Blinking, she pulled her mind from the mists, clearing her vision of its rainbow hues.
"H… how long have you been able to do that?" Wallace asked through panting breaths.
"For a while," she said, and sat on the bed next to Cat. Now that the emptiness was gone, she felt a stab of guilt at what she'd done to the poor man. It was only a small pinprick, though. She was getting so tired of people assuming she was helpless, and she'd let her annoyance get the better of her. "Like I said, Gar could explain how it works better than me. Remind me to tell you sometime about him dancing with fire."
"Dance. With. Fire." The response was so deadpan it forced her to look up. Wallace’s eyes were wide, as though trying to rationalize what he'd just seen but wasn't having any luck with it.
"Yeah. And some other things too." She almost wanted to wither under the gaze. Was it really so unbelievable that she could access the mists? Gar made it seem like it could be done with nothing more than a little study. Study and hours of mind-numbing concentration.
Wallace shook his head as if to clear away cobwebs. When he stopped, there was a look of calculation Bella wasn't sure she liked.
"Okay,” Wallace said. “This changes things a bit. I was going to show you how to watch ghost images of the past—"
"You mean the Tuhinga Mua spell? I already tried that. It's like they swept the room clean." The Tuhinga Mua was a spell allowing the caster to see shadows of the past. It was reliable enough to get a picture of events, but it only showed shadows, so it never told the entire story.
"You tried the Tuhinga Mua? How do you even know it?"
"Dad taught me."
"Of course he did. Did he teac
h you anything else? How to control minds? Fly around on broomsticks, maybe?"
"Broomsticks don't work. What you need is a twig of—" Wallace made a choking sound and Bella let out a bark of laughter that even startled Cat. "Kidding. Just kidding. We moved around a lot as a kid and Dad made me study everything. Sometimes twice."
"And this Gar person you keep mentioning? Who is he?"
"Oh, he's the Finder's assistant."
"Assistant?"
"Yeah. They've got a, um, weird relationship."
"They must. And he's the one who taught you to enter them?"
Bella paused, then nodded, hoping she wasn't giving away anything she shouldn't.
"I will have to meet this fellow."
Bella opened her mouth to tell him that Gar wasn't a fellow, more like a seven-foot hairy giant, but closed it again. Let him figure it out.
"This has been fun and all, but if the Tuhinga Mua spell was your plan, it's already failed. Any other ideas?"
"Well, since you can walk the mists"—he shuddered—"then why don't you just summon them to show you where he is?"
"I told you, it doesn't work like that. The mists—"
"I know what you said, and you may be right about some of it, but this is something I know well. They teach anyone in the Imperium who can access the mists to locate. It's how we find people to, um, bring in."
"You mean kidnap."
At least, Bella thought, he had the grace to look a little embarrassed. Having spent time with him, she thought he seemed like a decent person. So how could he work for the Imperium?
"Regardless," Wallace said, waving his hand before standing up, "if the Finder is alive, we can find him in the mists. One of the first things we learn about it is that, since it is everywhere and flows through everything, it's just a matter of having it show you the right thing."
Seating himself on the floor and crossing his legs, he looked up at Bella. "Aren't you going to have a seat?"
"I prefer sitting up here, thank you," she said, bouncing on the bed a little. Anything was better than the hard stone floors.
Wallace blinked at the response, as though a bright light had been shone in his eyes, before continuing. "Suit yourself, I guess." Shifting his posture, he closed his own eyes. "Now, the first thing you have to do is focus."
Bella made a mental note to apologize to Gar the next time she saw him. At least when he was teaching her, he assumed she was competent at magic. Wallace, on the other hand, treated her as if she were a baby playing with a bazooka. Or worse, playing with the red button that would launch a nuclear war.
The way he described locating someone through the mist was rather straightforward. First, picture them in her mind. Bella found that to be easy enough. She'd known the Finder her entire life and could describe every multicolored tuft of hair on his caterpillar-like body.
The second step was to guide the mists into creating a space in itself. This was much easier said than done. Since arriving at the Conclave, she’d found anything having to do with the mists so much more difficult than before. Bella was beginning to think it had to do with all the magical beings in one place.
"Could be," Wallace said when she mentioned it. "The mist is in a constant state of movement, but it's also under enormous pressure. With all members of the Conclave gathered in one place, it makes sense part of the mists would converge here."
"But why would it be so much harder to control it?"
"The mist desires to be used. Think of it like this. If you're used to lifting a five-pound weight every day, does that mean you can't lift a ten-pound? Of course not. It just means your new load will be more difficult until you get used to it."
"You're saying I just have to get used to it?"
"Got a better idea?"
Bella grumbled, still not satisfied with the explanation. But without a better one presenting itself, it had to do.
"Okay, now close your eyes and try again. Remember, you need to create an entirely empty space. Like I said, I try to picture a hollow crystal ball. Let the mist flow over and around it. It will want to flow through it, but don't let it, just guide it around."
"Just guide it around," Bella mumbled. Like it was just that easy. Even when the mists weren't as thick as pea soup, guiding them wasn't easy. Now, well, she thought she'd have an easier time herding cats with string. She'd tried his crystal ball idea and had no luck. The closest thing she could imagine to what he described was an open window.
She remembered spending time in her father's cabin in the mountains, leaning half in and half out the open windows, enjoying cool summer breezes as they wafted by on their journey down to the lake. Then later, when apartment hunting after college, she'd chosen one that had windows opening onto a fire escape. Not because she was worried about fires, but because it reminded her of those times.
"Uh, Bella?" A voice broke into the edge of her thoughts, though she wasn't sure if it belonged to Wallace or Cat.
"Bella, look." This time it was definitely Wallace's voice, and she frowned. First, he told her to close her eyes, then look at something before she had a chance to try guiding the mist. What did the man want her to do? It was like being asked to be in two places at the same time. "Bella, look."
Opening her eyes, she blinked at the bright glare of light reflecting off what looked like a floating mirror. As her eyes adjusted, she realized it wasn't a mirror, and the glare of light was coming from it. Standing, she walked over to it to get a closer look. Taller than it was long, with a surface that shone like polished silver, the object undulated like a piece of paper caught in a breeze. Looked at from the side, it was so thin it almost disappeared.
"What did you do?" Wallace asked. If she hadn't known better, she would have thought he was in awe.
"Me? I didn't do that, did I?"
"No one else did," Cat said from near her heels.
"This just can't be," Wallace mumbled. "How did you do this? I thought you may do something since you can walk in the mist, but this, this shouldn't be possible."
"What is it? What did I do?"
Wallace cleared his throat, though, by the sound of it, she thought he was just trying to buy some time before explaining. Before the moment stretched too long, he spoke.
"I told you the mist is connected to everything, right? As part of the tracking magic, you needed to create a void in it and fill it with the image of the person you wanted to find. When you let go of the void, the mists would rush in, consume the image, and give you a brief flash of the area where the actual person was."
"Yeah, but I never made the void. The mist just didn't want to be guided like that."
"Then how did you make this? There's two, maybe three people in the entire Imperium that can create this, and they take days working on the spell."
"What is this?" Knots started forming at the base of her skull as an electric current ran down her spine. Had she created something she wasn't supposed to?
"This," he began, gesturing at the floating rectangle, "this is a Water Window."
"Somebody needs to work on naming things," Cat purred as he turned his back on it to leap back on the bed. "Or at least put a little more imagination into it."
"Hush, Cat," Bella said, trying to ignore the glare Wallace aimed at her familiar.
"You don't understand. The Water Window isn't an ordinary spell. It’s, well, it's a hole. A hole in space that can show you anything."
"So it's a complicated communication spell?" She'd used those plenty of times with her boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend, she chided.
"Yes, but it's way more than just that." Wallace began sounding like a kid in a candy store. "With this, not only can you communicate, but you can send and receive things."
"What?"
"Watch," he said, grinning. "Picture something. Picture your quarters here."
Bella concentrated on the large empty room with the plinth in the center and her smaller, closet-like one with its lumpy mattress. The silvered square shuddered and shifte
d, a swirling mass of blurred colors that reminded her of old televisions changing channels. When the blurring stopped, a crystal-clear image of her chambers hung in the air.
She had to admit it was a little impressive, but the same thing could be done with less fuss using a regular communication spell. Bella raised her hand to touch the floating image, but stopped when Wallace yelled.
"For God’s sake, don't touch it."
Her hand jerked back as though the rectangle had caught fire. "What? Why not?"
Grabbing a book from the nightstand, Wallace walked over to stand next to the hole in space. Catching her eye, he winked and, ripping a page from the book, tossed the crumpled sheet through the opening. The paper flew like a badly made baseball, passing through the opening, and bounced across the stone floor until it came to a stop against the far wall of her quarters.
Bella felt her eyes grow wide as she stared at the paper. This had to be some kind of trick. Spells existed to open doors between dimensions. Those spells allowed places like the Circus, the crossroads of trading for the supernatural world, to exist. But nothing should be able to open a door like that between places in the same dimension.
"That… that's…" She couldn't find the right words.
"Impossible? Incredible? Amazing?" Wallace said. His grin was now so wide it threatened to touch his ears.
"Dull? Boring?" Cat supplied, yawning from his seat on the bed. He'd tucked his paws beneath himself and looked as though ready for his next nap.
"Not helping." Bella frowned at her familiar, who ignored the look.
Turning back to Wallace and the floating window, she reached out again, but remembered his warning before he yelled it again. "So, why not touch it? It would make travel so easy."
"This is why." With a twitch of his hand, he sent the book flying through the window. The brown leather binding came in contact with the edge of the window in space and flashed. Electric sparks flew in every direction and Bella threw up her arm to protect her eyes. Only when the light cleared and the afterimage of the flash died in her vision did she look through the window.