Paranormal Realities Box Set

by Mason, Patricia

  Zen smirked and added, “I also know how you can find those lost friends.”

  Chapter Nine

  “It’s called a psychomanteum,” Zen said as he led us up the stairs of his home.

  We entered a room illuminated only by the light from the hall. What was probably meant to be a bedroom contained no furniture except for a giant wooden easel at its center and a table along one wall. Three candles topped the table. Mounted on the easel was a frame covered by a drape. The room’s walls had been painted black and the two windows obliterated by heavy, dark shades.

  “The basis for the psychomanteum dates back to ancient Greece.” Zen lit the candles. “The Greeks had the practice of gazing into a still pool of water for the purpose of producing visions, communicating with the spirits, and seeing into other dimensions.” He crossed to the door and closed it, leaving the room lighted by only three small flames.

  “But how will this help us contact Franky and Juliette?” I asked.

  “I think your lost friends and their life forces are somehow entangled with the monsters who came through the vortex. I’ve seen this kind of thing before but could never prove it." Zen added.

  "I don't understand," I said.

  "Trying to understand earned me a dishonorable discharge from the military. Those sons-o–bitches!" Zen shouted to the ceiling. "They just couldn't get past their narrow little tiny minds. I could—"

  “You were saying about our friends?” I asked trying to bring him back to the topic.

  “Oh yes. Five years ago, I saw a thing appear as if out of thin air and take the place of…a person.”

  When he said the word “person” it was as if he had planned to say something else. Perhaps someone’s name?

  “She vanished without a trace,” he continued. "About a year ago, after further investigation and study, I concluded this person had been forced into inter-dimensional travel."

  “Inter-dimensional travel? That’s whacko,” Chase said.

  “And what we’ve seen so far isn’t?” Senji drawled.

  It was whacko, but hadn’t Mr. Hutson theorized something similar?

  “I didn’t exactly see anything,” Chase commented. “I have to take Senji's word since Petra and I weren’t there when they disappeared.”

  “You also have Rom and Kizzy’s word,” Senji pointed out.

  “I don’t know Rom. And Kizzy is cr—” He was probably about to pronounce me crazy. Petra shot Chase a stink eye glare and applied a twisting pinch to his side. “Credible. Kizzy is credible,” he finished.

  Petra smiled at him and then popped a kiss on his cheek.

  “Which one of you opened the vortex?” Zen moved to the easel.

  “That’s a stupid question. None of us would open a vortex,” Senji said.

  “Not deliberately, maybe. But one of you did open it,” Zen observed.

  “It was me,” I admitted. “I don’t know how I did it but somehow I did.”

  “There are people, not many but some, who have the power to open doorways into other dimensions. And if you can open a vortex you may have the power to see into that dimension with the psychomanteum.” Zen pointed to the draped frame.

  “The absurdity of you astounds me,” Rom said to Zen. Rom took me by the arm. “Let us depart.”

  “No." I shook him off. "If there's a chance of finding out what happened to Juliette and Franky, or of contacting them, then I have to try.”

  Rom grunted and stomped off to the corner where he took up a position leaning against the wall with arms crossed over his chest.

  “Let us see this thing you call a psychomanteum,” Rom demanded.

  Zen walked to the easel. He lifted the draping with a flourish.

  “It’s just a mirror,” Chase said.

  Rom barked a laugh. “Has this contrivance ever produced a vision for you?”

  “No," Zen admitted. "But it should."

  “Theory only,” Rom scoffed.

  “Everyone against the wall and out of the mirror’s reflective area.” Zen directed. “Except you, Kizzy. Come forward.”

  When I hesitated, Petra touched my arm. “You don’t have to do it.”

  “Yes, I do,” I said, offering her a wan smile. “It’s okay.”

  I inched forward to a point about three feet from the mirror.

  Zen took me by the shoulders and pushed me up to within a foot away.

  “Now, stare into the glass and concentrate on your desire to communicate with Juliette and Franky,” he whispered into my ear. "If my information is right, they’re not able to open the contact to you but they’ll be able to speak to you once you've opened the lines of communication." Zen stepped away.

  Conscious only of the flickering light of the candle in the darkness and the blackness of the mirror, for long minutes I chanted within my mind: Juliette, Franky, Juliette, Franky. Please. I’m so sorry. Where are you?

  “It’s not working,” Chase said.

  “Why isn’t it working?” Petra asked.

  “Isn’t there anything else we can do?” Senji practically shouted.

  “Yes.” Zen opened the door to the room. “You can get out since you are incapable of being quiet. Wait outside.”

  Complaining, but clearly happy to be out of there, Chase, Petra and Senji filed into the hall. Rom didn’t budge.

  “Do not think you will force me to abandon Kizzy,” he said in an almost growl.

  Zen threw up his hands, grimaced and shut the door plunging the room into the candlelit darkness again.

  Turning my attention back to the mirror, I concentrated on my memory of the whirlpool of the vortex. Minutes later there was still no result. I decided to make my mind blank and thought only of my breathing, as I did when I meditated. Long breath in. Long breath out. Long breath in…After my mind quieted, I allowed the images of Juliette and Franky into my thoughts.

  A wisp of fog appeared in the inky blackness of the mirror. The fog expanded until it filled the entire area within the frame. After a few seconds, the fog separated and began to seep away, but it didn't leave in its place a black reflection. Instead, I saw an ornate room, lavishly furnished with an enormous crystal chandelier at its center, oriental rugs, columns with gilded capitals, and cream-colored settee sofas. A room fit for a palace.

  But it wasn’t the room but its inhabitants that riveted my attention. Juliette sat on one settee. She no longer wore the cheerleader's uniform she’d disappeared in. Instead, she was dressed in a pearl encrusted emerald green ball gown right out of the late 1800s. But the luxury of the garb and the furnishings was in stark contrast to the misery in her expression.

  Franky moved into view, sat down beside Juliette and took her hand. He’d also changed and wore an elegant, if old-fashioned, tuxedo. Always a pale redhead, my friend now appeared almost translucent with his freckles showing as dark brown splotches against white skin.

  A man I didn’t recognize strolled over to stand behind the sofa. The slender man, elegantly handsome with sandy brown hair and a thin moustache, also wore a tuxedo. His skin was unnaturally porcelain. The man had dark circles under his eyes and black tinged lips.

  He reached out a pale hand with graceful long fingers—tipped with sharp pointed claw-like nails—and stroked Juliette’s hair.

  A loud gasp escaped me. The man started as if he'd heard me. His head jerked up to stare in my direction and I automatically stepped back.

  “Who was that?” the man said with a clipped, very posh, British accent. “Who is there?” He walked toward me and I took a step back. Would he be able to step through the mirror? I’d seen more bizarre happenings in the past three days.

  Finally, I realized he was gazing into a mirror on his side.

  “It’s me,” I said, stepping forward.

  “Do not have discourse with him,” Rom ordered behind me.

  “Shut up, Rom,” Zen snapped. “Do you want to get them back or not, Kizzy?”

  “Kizzy?” The man in the mirror smiled know
ingly “Juliette and Franky have mentioned you.” He pushed a hand through his well-groomed hair. “And I believe our soothsayer has foretold a prophecy concerning you."

  "A prophecy?" I asked. "What kind of prophecy?"

  "The soothsayer said 'A key will come, as surely as the ticking of the clock. But a key that is stolen shall never open the lock.'”

  "That makes no sense," I mumbled.

  The man moved closer and grinned revealing two sharp incisors.

  Vampire! This time I held back my gasp.

  “You know my name.” I tried to keep my voice calm. “May I know yours?”

  The man bowed. “I am known as His Royal Highness, The Prince Leopold. You may address me as your Highness.”

  “All right, your Highness,” I said. “How did Juliette and Franky come to be with you?”

  The prince laughed. “You would know better than I how they crossed from your world to mine. But once in my realm, my subjects naturally brought them to the royal court for an audience with their prince. When I saw how special these visitors were, I knew they must stay here with me.” He glided back to the sofa and leaned over the back to place one arm around Juliette and the other around Franky. “And I was right to keep them here. We are all having a splendid time, are we not?”

  Franky nodded miserably and Juliette choked out a wavery “yes”.

  “We have tasted such delicacies of food and drink,” the prince said.

  Nuzzling Franky’s nape, the prince sniffed. Franky’s eyes widened and he began to tremble visibly. “Perhaps it is time for another sip,” the prince said. He leaned his head against Juliette’s before turning to run his tongue in a licentious lick along her creamy neck. Two small holes marred her otherwise perfect skin. My stepsister cried out and jerked but Prince Leopold held her down with his grasp on her shoulder. The prince opened his mouth and the incisors gleamed with reflected light from the fireplace’s flames.

  Frantically, I searched for something to say or do to stop him. My eyes lit on a game table set nearby.

  “That is a magnificent chess set. Is it ivory?” I asked attempting to keep desperation from my tone. The last thing needed was for this predator to smell fear. But I was plenty afraid.

  “Carved bone." The prince paused, glanced up and then chuckled. "Human bone.” He eyed me through the mirror as if judging my reaction.

  I swallowed hard. “Are you a player, your Highness?” I strove for a nonchalant tone.

  “Of many games, my dear.” The prince rose to a standing position.

  “Perhaps we'll play sometime,” I said.

  “That would please me greatly.” He sauntered toward the mirror until he was close enough for me to see the heartbeat, or lack thereof, at the base of his neck. “You, Kizzy, are most cordially invited to visit the royal court. In fact, I must insist on it.” The last bit, although said with the same charming tone he’d used during the entire conversation, had an ominous feel.

  “Stop this.” Rom marched forward until he was next to me. “This is not real. What we see is nothing more than a magician’s trick.”

  Just then a fog appeared in the mirror of the psychomanteum, blotting out Prince Leopold, Juliette and Franky. The fog swirled and then parted to reveal a landscape under a blue sky, devoid of clouds. The intense sunshine blazed down over the scene: a metropolitan city at the edge of a green sea. Initially, it seemed a happy contrast to the sinister palace room of a few moments ago until I saw the giant mountain of water moving in a great wave relentlessly toward the shore. The people in the streets tried to run. But when the wall of water struck, it decimated the buildings and swept up the panicked people, washing them away. Tsunami.

  Rom stared at the image as if mesmerized.

  Zen glanced from the scene of devastation to Rom’s horror-struck expression.

  “This is your vision,” Zen said looking at Rom.

  Rom backed away from the mirror, his eyes darting from Zen to me. When his back bumped against the door, he reached behind him and fumbled with the knob. Finally, the door opened and Rom tripped over his own feet to get out. I heard the sounds of his boots rumbling down the stairs, the front door opening and then slamming before I could move to follow him.

  “Ask him why he was able to operate the psychomanteum,” Zen called to me as I ran down.

  At first I didn’t see Rom outside, then I spotted him with his back to me as he leaned against a tree on the other side of the driveway. Going to him, I placed a hand on his shoulder. He tensed at my touch. I tried to pull him around but he resisted. If he wouldn’t turn to face me then I would be the one to move.

  “What is it?” I stepped in front of him. I had just a brief glimpse of the tears before Rom turned away and presented me with his back again.

  “Rom,” I said. “Are you crying?”

  “No,” he answered wiping at his face. “Warriors do not cry as babes.”

  “Please,” I rubbed the flat of my hand caressingly on his shoulder. “Let me help.”

  “You can do nothing to aid me.”

  My chuckle held a tinge of bitterness. “I'm supposed to allow you to help me but you won’t let me help you?”

  He didn't answer.

  “What was that city in the mirror?” I asked. “Come on. Tell me.”

  He spoke in a barely audible voice. “New Rome.”

  Rom’s home in Augustinia. But if such a metropolis had been destroyed by natural disaster, why hadn't I heard about it on the news?

  “Why did the psychomanteum work for you Rom?”

  “Because like you I am a Clavis. But I am not of this world. I come from another dimension."

  "But you don't come from Dorcha, do you?" I asked in confusion.

  "No." He shook his head sadly," I come from a world in which a country called the United Provinces of Augustinia exists and the United States of America does not.”

  * * * * *

  “I knew it,” Zen declared, pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace in his parlor. “I knew there was a reason I didn’t find any record of you.”

  “What's a Clavis?” Petra said from her seat on a wing back chair with faded paisley fabric.

  Yeah, what am I? My mind raced with confusion. I wanted to know the answer but dreaded knowing at the same time.

  “A Clavis is one with ability to open a portal to another dimension. A human key," Rom answered.

  “That makes no sense,” Chase said. “How can a person be a key?”

  “Our scientia believe it is the DNA and thus our blood which carries the formula.” Rom's eyes never left me as if he feared my reaction.

  I remembered that each time I’d opened the vortex in the tunnel I’d been bleeding. I’d been bleeding another time too. On the bridge. And there was that gap in my memory of falling from the Talmadge.

  “So can you open a portal at any time?” Zen asked.

  “No," Rom replied. "Only during times of permeability."

  “I don’t understand,” I piped in. “What makes it permeable?”

  “Permeability follows astrological progression. The world of the Dorcha and the world of Augustinia each seem to intersect with your world on the equinox and solstice."

  “So Dorcha and Augustinia are in two separate dimensions?" I summarized. "And when the stars align a certain way the door can open between our dimension and each of them?” I struggled to take it all in.

  “In simplistic terms, yes," Rom said. "For seven days leading to an astronomical event, a portal becomes ever more permeable before achieving a zenith on the day of the event. For seven days following, permeability wanes until the door seals and becomes impassable, awaiting the next event.“

  “So basically a fourteen day window…or doorway,” Zen said.

  Rom nodded.

  I recalled my father’s last visitation with Adam and I—and the incident on the bridge—had occurred the weekend of the solstice. I had wanted to go to a festival with Petra and had to go visit Dad instead.
>
  “That first night.” I hesitated. “How did you reclose the vortex with that paint?”

  “Salt was added.” Rom said. "Salt closes the vortex before the effect of the blood wears away.” He shook his head. “But ask me not for further detail. As a warrior, I have but little technical information.” Rom turned his gaze to mine. His dark navy blue eyes and my average blue ones. Navy blue eyes I had gazed into long before I knew his name.

  Rom's tone became robotic. “Once ordered, my duty is but to obey.”

  At his words, memories rushed into my mind of a time when he'd said something similar. The sensation of falling and hitting water—water that wasn't water—flooded me. I remembered waking to Rom kneeling over me. There were memories of Rom's father. Of his mother. Of their words about Adam. “The boy’s death is already here,” he’d said.

  “You son of a bitch.” I rammed Rom with my body, swinging my fist and connecting with his jaw. He staggered back at the blow. “You and your family killed Adam.” Continuing to flail, punch and kick him, Rom stood and allowed my fury to punish him without attempting to move away.

  When I had exhausted myself, his arms came around me, holding me up when I would have slumped to the wood floor.

  “No, Kizzy. I am at fault for much but not for Adam.”

  “But I heard what you said.” Jerking out of his hold I stood on my own, arms wrapping around myself.

  Petra came to my side and put an arm around my shoulder.

  “I don’t know what this is about. But if you hurt Kizzy, you won’t get out of here in one piece mister.” Petra hugged me to her.

  “What I said was deceptive, but not intentionally so,” Rom said. “My mother is a medico. She said your brother had instant death from a bullet fired in your world. When he passed into ours with you, he had already gone.

  ”I didn’t know whether to believe him. Somehow, even as I grieved I couldn’t believe Adam was actually dead. Since they hadn’t found the body, I’d held on to that small possibility that he might have survived the fall and was alive somewhere.

  Why are you here? Wait a minute,” I said. “When we first met you asked about the Dorcha. You knew they would come through?”