by Sam Cheever
Rustin sat back and ran a hand over his face. “What I got from that reference book I read was that this type of artifact is rare. Information on dealing with it is very limited. Only two Keepers have dealt with a time and reality morphing artifact.”
Hope rose in my chest. “I assume they defeated their artifacts since the world isn’t black and white, and I don’t hear a whistling soundtrack in the background.”
Sebille, Rustin, and I were sitting around Shakespeare’s desk, discussing what Rustin had learned in Magical Objects to Avoid at all Costs. Which wasn’t much. For such an extensive magical reference book, there apparently hadn’t been much information on a black and white television artifact from the nineteen sixties.
Rustin sighed. “I’m not sure you could classify it as defeating them.”
“What do you mean?” Sebille asked.
The ghost witch threw me a quick, worried glance. “The Keepers both sacrificed themselves to stop the artifacts from spreading.”
My pulse shot skyward. “Sacrificed themselves? How?”
He stared down at the open books littering the desk. Finally, he sighed. “Apparently, if you overload the system, the artifact blows up.”
I shook my head. “Not an option. Not until I get the kids out of there.”
Rustin’s lips twitched at my calling Mr. Wicked, Mr. Slimy, and Hobs “the kids”.
“How did they overload the system?” Sebille asked.
“It doesn’t matter because it’s not happening,” I said.
Sebille motioned for me to hush. “If we’re going to defeat this thing and get them back, we need as much knowledge as possible, Naida.”
“No. She’s right,” Rustin said, frowning. “We’re not going to be able to recreate their methods. First of all, we’d need a second time and reality-altering artifact.”
“A second one?” Curiosity had me asking. “Why?”
“The Keepers placed the two objects within the same sphere and they battled each other for control of the environment.”
That sounded promising.
“Okay,” Sebille said. “We can work with that.”
Rustin shook his head. “You don’t understand. These objects have natural self-protective instincts. If they find themselves in a hostile environment, they attack everything within their sphere. The destruction could encompass all of Croakies.” He fixed me with a sad expression. “The only way it will work is if someone who has control over artifacts holds them in place and under their control long enough for their conflicting drives to terminate them both. Those Keepers stood between the two artifacts and forced them to stay in proximity until they were destroyed. And when they went, the Keepers were extinguished with them.”
Despair tightened my chest. Not at the idea of being extinguished, though that was certainly terrifying. I was more concerned over the lack of a rescue option for Wicked and gang in that scenario.
I looked around the library. I also didn't want to risk losing everything to stop the artifact.
“What about Dugan McDonald?” I asked the ghost witch.
“What about him?” Rustin asked on a frown.
“The artifact poisoned his home. According to Grym, it’s still poisoning it even though he’s gone. Does that mean the effects will keep spreading until we find some way to stop it?”
“From what I read in this,” He placed a hand over the thick, leather-bound reference book, “The spread stops when the artifact is extinguished.”
“What about the de-coloration that’s already there?” Sebille asked. “Is it reversible?”
“I just don’t know,” Rustin said. “But that’s a problem for another day. We need to stop the spread first.”
I hugged myself feeling cold and scared.
“I wonder why this artifact never triggered at Theo’s place,” Rustin mused.
I shrugged. “Probably because of his home artifact. A giant’s home artifact is naturally superior against any incoming artifact. It’s first choice is to pull the new artifact into the group, make it part of the main artifact, but if an artifact refuses to join, it’s cauterized away from the rest. Given its power-hungry ways, I’m guessing the TV artifact would have eventually won over the rest, but Theo has a very active home artifact. It would have taken a while for the new artifact to gain control.”
We sat in silence for a beat, thinking over what we knew. It wasn’t much. Finally, I sighed. “Professor Osvald said I needed to go inside to stop the artifact, but he couldn’t tell me if it was possible.” I lifted my gaze to Rustin, tears burning my lids. “I have to try to save them, Rustin. And Mr. McDonald too,” I said. “If I can stop the artifact while I’m inside, then all the better. If not…then we’ll try it your way.”
Rustin’s handsome face darkened. He shoved his wire-rimmed glasses up his nose with a jerky motion. “It’s not my way, Naida. It’s just all I’ve found.” He shrugged, clearly trying to reach for calm. “I don’t want you to die.”
I reached over and grabbed his hand, giving it a slightly desperate squeeze. “I don’t want to die either,” I told him. “We’ll find another way.”
“You’d need to find another time and reality changing artifact anyway,” he said, sounding almost relieved. “You’ll never find one. They’re rare.”
Sebille and I shared a look. I knew what she was thinking because I was thinking the same thing. We had another such artifact in the library, though if I’d known how dangerous it was, I’d have already put it into the toxic magic vault.
Sebille gave me a little nod and stood. “I’ll go take care of it.”
Watching her walk away to grab the record player that sucked the listener into the time and place of whatever song was playing, I felt my mind go still. I knew what I had to do, and I was resolved to do it.
“This is a rescue mission first,” I told Rustin. “Then we’ll deal with the rest.”
The rest was probably going to include my death. I really didn’t want to focus on that at the moment. The most important thing was the rescue.
Rustin just shook his head, determinedly avoiding my gaze.
A firm knock sounded on the dividing door and I flinched.
Rustin reached out and clasped my hand. “I’ll deal with it.”
I expelled a relieved breath. “Thanks. If it’s something you can’t answer, tell them I’ll be with them in a few minutes. I just need…” I sighed, and he nodded.
“Whoever it is, I’ll put them off.”
I rested my head on my arms and expelled a long breath, fighting not to give in to the worry and despair filling me. My eyes fell on the large, manilla envelope I’d shoved to the back of the desk several days earlier.
It was the package from Archibald Pudsnecker. Archie was the Sorcerer of the Voids we’d worked with when Croakies had been overrun by monsters. He’d helped me find the breach in the abyss that was letting the monsters through. And he’d seemed very determined for me to read the contents of the envelope. I tugged it closer, my fingers sliding it open before my brain had time to wonder if it was a good idea, given everything that was going on.
I pulled out a thin sheaf of papers covered in a handwritten scrawl that sparked a memory somewhere deep inside.
I frowned. I’d been expecting information about Archie’s books. That had been how he’d approached me. Offering himself for a book signing at Croakies. I’d later learned that the book signing thing had been a ruse. But somehow, I’d convinced myself that was what was in the packet.
As I started reading the long, long letter clutched between my fingers, I quickly learned the missive was far from a proposal to sign books.
Dear Naida,
I know this letter will come as a surprise to you…perhaps even a shock. But if you’ve received it now, then it’s time for you to know about your past. First, let me tell you that I’m very sorry to have left you on your own for this long. It was a cruelty, yes. But a necessary one.
I’ve done…things…I
’m not proud of. I’ve brought danger down on my own head, and I’d only hoped to spare you from my poor choices. To do that, I had to remove myself from your life. Of all the things plaguing my existence, that is the thing that takes the largest chunk from my heart. Don’t blame Archie. He did the best he could. If he was unequal to the task, that is not his fault. He simply didn’t understand. That too was my fault…
“Naida?”
I jumped, so immersed in the strange letter that I’d lost track of everything outside the tight, tidy script on the page. I shoved the pages back into the envelope and looked up at Sebille, trying to make my expression as neutral as possible. “What?”
She narrowed her astounding green gaze on me. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
If she only knew.
I nodded quickly. Too quickly. And forced a smile that felt tight on my cheeks. “I’m fine. Well, not fine, but coping.” I frowned. “Is it safe?”
She blinked as if trying to change tracks, and then her expression cleared as she caught my meaning. “The record player is locked in the vault.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe we had that out and just sitting around.” There was accusation in her words, a quiet bitterness I knew was pointed at me. I was a terrible Keeper of the Artifacts. I knew less than nothing about my job. And I was sick of feeling guilty about that.
Something had to change.
If I survived the next couple of days, I was going to do as Archie had suggested and recall the Keeper who’d trained me. She’d done a terrible job and needed to fix the holes in my knowledge before I lost everyone I cared about. But there was nothing I could do about my inadequacies at the moment. All I could do was try to fix the immediate issue. “I don’t understand why I couldn’t feel how dangerous it was.”
Even with my inadequacies, I’d fully embraced my KoA magics. I could feel the role and placement of every object within the artifact library. I’d grown exponentially in my power. But both the television and the record player had masked themselves from me.
Not good.
Sebille shrugged. “It must be something about their particular type of energy.”
“I need to get them out of there, Sebille. That’s all that matters now.” Tears burned my eyes.
She stared at me for a long moment. There was sadness in her gaze, even while her stiff posture seemed to project anger toward me. “I can ask mother.”
Sebille’s mother was Queen of the Fae in Enchanted. She was a powerful supernormal with the ability to read and decipher all types of magic energy. She’d only recently returned to my friend Lea’s greenhouse where the Fae were currently living. She’d come back from a meeting of the magic council in Illusion City, where she’d petitioned for the right to relocate to the primordial forest.
A fact that might have something to do with the sadness in Sebille’s usually hostile gaze.
“Has she decided what she’s going to do?” I asked the sprite in a gentle voice.
Sebille shook her head. “She won’t say anything about her meetings. All she says is that my brothers miss me.”
Sebille had several brothers and one sister living in the primordial forest. It was one of the reasons Queen Sindra was considering the move. Though, I knew from Sebille that her younger sister, Salina, drove the queen crazy, and I suspected she and Sebille didn’t get along either since Sebille rarely mentioned her.
I nodded. “I’m praying to the goddess every single day that she decides to stay here.”
Sebille nodded, her gaze dropping from mine.
I could almost read her mind. She didn’t want me to see how worried she was about it. Pity for my assistant tightened my chest. I quickly extinguished it. She wouldn’t thank me for feeling pity. She was far more likely to smack me upside the head for it. “Yes. Call her. Please? Hopefully, she can tell me how to get them back.”
“Us,” Sebille said, glowering at me.
“Huh?”
“Whatever needs doing, I’m helping you. You can’t do this alone.”
I didn’t like the idea of endangering Sebille too. I secretly told myself I’d find a way to go without her. But I only nodded. If she knew what I was thinking, she’d smack me again for having the thought.
Her gaze narrowed suspiciously as if she could read my mind, Sebille finally turned away and headed for the communication mirror. A moment later, I heard her talking to her mother.
My gaze slid to the yellow envelope, my fingers creeping over to touch the edge. Instinctively, I knew the words inside would change my life forever. They’d turn everything I knew on its head and leave me feeling even more bereft than I already did.
A sudden, raging fear tightened beneath my ribs. I wanted to burn the envelope to ash and never read what was inside. Instead, I shoved it to the back of the desk and covered it with the slowly dwindling pile of artifact orders.
I couldn’t allow myself to get distracted in that way. Not now. Maybe not ever.
If I was smart, I’d do what my instincts told me to do. And burn the threat into oblivion.
4
Naida Dear, This is Bad
Queen Sindra circled the monotone area, taking care to stay well out of reach of the destructive magics. Beside her, as she worked, was another Fae, whose larger size and straight dark hair told me he was an elf. The elf’s silver and black wings, more like a moth’s than a butterfly’s were also a clear sign of his magical designation. While Queen Sindra wove a netting of light green magic upon the air, the elf inserted silvery motes of energy within the Queen’s power, forming a wavering line that rose and fell in seemingly random fashion through the web.
Like magical reinforcement.
When the ends of the silver energies met each other, closing the circle, the two Fae flew back to where Sebille, Rustin, and I were waiting, near the staircase leading to my apartment.
Sindra’s beautiful, butterfly-like wings throbbed so quickly on the air that all I could see was a soft blur of pink, purple, and neon green. She smiled at Sebille, who hadn’t been in the room when the queen had arrived. “Daughter. How do you fare?”
Sebille winced only slightly. She hated using the overly formal language of the Fae Court, but she’d relaxed her disdain over the last few months. Probably because she’d watched her people be nearly extinguished by Jacob Quilleran, in addition to the more recent threat of losing her mother’s regular presence in her life. “I’m fine, Mother. You look well.”
The pleasantries complete, Queen Sindra inclined her chin and looked to me. “I’m certain I don’t need to tell you, Naida dear, this is bad.”
I frowned, nodding. “We’ve been studying the problem. We know our choices are limited.”
“I surrounded the artifact with energy that stimulated it into engaging in order to try to find a weak spot. We were unable to find one. But, as I worked, Adolfo was analyzing the energy,” she told us. “Dolfo, please tell the Keeper what you’ve found.”
The handsome elf buzzed forward, bowing slightly to Sebille before straightening to look me in the eye. His blue eyes were so dark they looked black in his tiny face, and the heavy black uniform of the Queen’s guards only strengthened that effect. With his black and silver wings, pale skin, black hair, and angular slash of black brows, he looked as if the artifact had caught him up and drained him of color.
In a good way.
“Keeper. Princess. It’s an honor to be of service.”
Sebille nodded stiffly and I felt a random urge to give her a hug. She was handling the whole Princess thing very well.
“Thank you for your help, Adolfo,” I told the handsome elf.
“As the Queen has already informed you, I infused her protective web with analytical magics. While it is in place, my magic will continually read the energy flowing from the artifact, looking for the optimum time for you to insert yourself into the magical footprint.”
“We’ve been told we can’t affect the magical footprint of this artifact,” I
said.
“That is technically true,” Adolfo said. “But as in all things magical, there is a back door.”
“Explain,” Sebille ordered.
“You cannot disrupt the energy of this artifact. You cannot damage the magics. If you try, you will be attacked. But you might be able to insert yourself if you become invisible to the protections within it.”
“What Adolfo is trying to say in a diplomatic fashion,” Queen Sindra said with a fond look toward her daughter, “Is that you can be accepted as part of the magic. But you cannot barge into it as a hostile, foreign entity.”
“What does that mean in practical terms?” Rustin asked, frowning.
Sindra shrugged. “You must make yourself look like the target entity. You must assimilate rather than violate the magical footprint.”
“What does that mean, though? We can’t leech the color from ourselves,” I said.
“You won’t need to,” Adolfo said. “The magic will do that for you. But you must look like the world you are targeting. You must be dressed as they would dress, embrace the culture. If you have props tied to that world, it will help immeasurably.”
I thought of the Andrew of Mayberry plates I had, which constantly refilled with home cooking once the food was consumed. “I have two things that would work there.”
“You must leave behind the things of this world,” Sindra warned. “A single item from this world will alert the energy of your ‘otherness’, and it will be the death of you.”
Nodding my understanding, I swallowed hard. A sudden, true understanding of how dangerous the insertion would be squeezed cold fingers around my heart.
I looked at Adolfo. “Your analytical energy will tell us when it’s safe to go inside?”
He nodded.
“Will we get any warning?” Rustin asked. “Time to prepare?”
“Not much,” Adolfo said, his expression filled with apology. “I recommend you ready yourselves to go at any time.”
Black and white bat boogers! I thought in despair. I had to walk around in a flowered dress with an apron and a plate of pie in my hand? Even given the pure entertainment of watching Sebille try to look retro, life was going to be bleak indeed.