by Kali Harper
“If this place is so important, how come I’ve never seen it?” I asked, eying the shops along Main Street. The only one that may have fit the bill would’ve been Seeton’s Antiques, but Lance arrested him after his dragon threw a tantrum and killed Maggie. The shop had been closed ever since.
“Because it isn’t in Emberdale,” Lucy said matter-of-factly.
“I thought you said—”
“You can get to it from here, but The Magician’s Closet doesn’t exist in the surface world.”
“Wait, what?” First, Maggie had me follow a tunnel in her basement to uncover my book, and now this? “We’re going underground?”
“Not under. Through.”
“Through as in falling to the other side of the Earth?”
Lucy laughed, then wiping her eyes, she said, “I suppose you could say that, wouldn’t you agree, Maggie?”
Maggie didn’t say anything, her spectral form hovering along the sidewalk as she gazed across the way at Mr. Clark who was busy washing the front windows of The Market. The dirt stains on his denims never washed away, matching the deep calluses on his hands from years of work in his garden. I couldn’t tell from where we were, but I had a feeling if we crossed the street I’d find a small twig or leaf in his hair from the work he’d finished this morning. I teased him about it, but Maggie insisted it made him look even better than before.
“We’ll get him to see you, Mags,” I said, stopping when she did the same. “I promise.”
“Best if you don’t promise anything yet,” Lucy warned, glancing back over her shoulder at us. “You need to prove yourself to Morpheus, first.”
“He’s a troll. How hard could it be?”
“She’s right,” Sammy cut in, his voice low so only Maggie and I would hear. “The trolls you know of are as far from the real things as you can get. These creatures are smart and quick.”
“Do you know what I have to do in these trials?”
“It varies from one witch to another. Take Maggie for example. She couldn’t shield herself the way you can, nor could she use offensive magic.”
“What did he have you do?” I asked, checking on Maggie who’d stopped listening as soon as we walked away from where she’d first looked at Mr. Clark. “Maggie, what did you have to do during your trial?”
“You know those statues Felix has outside his hardware store?” she asked, her eyes fixed on Ronan as he loaded the fruit cart in front of his shop.
How could I forget? The pair of gryphons he had sitting out on the lawn of his shop were breathtaking. Felix could mold metal with his hands. The work he did was unbelievable, including his gryphons. “Yes,” I finally said, pausing so Maggie could catch up with us.
Her spectral form floated my way, and as it did, she looked skyward. “My task was to do something similar with glass. I had to enchant it and mold it into a creature. It’s a lot harder than it sounds as I wasn’t allowed to use my hands at all.”
“What did you turn the glass into?”
“Take one guess,” Sammy said with a big feline-smile.
“Of course, I shouldn’t expect any less.”
“It was a beautiful cat,” Maggie said, releasing a contented sigh. “It stayed with me for a few days, hiding in my coat pocket until the charm finally wore off. I may have overexerted myself, but I honestly didn’t know how long Morpheus wanted it to last. If you’ve ever seen the ball of clear glass on the kitchen windowsill, that’s what I had to enchant. Nothing but a paperweight now.”
“What about you, Lucy?”
My Aunt fell back into place with the rest of the group, a smile playing on her lips. “My task will likely be close to whatever Morpheus asks you to do. Because telekinesis, much like conjuration, can be used to defend oneself, I was placed in a room with conjured familiars.”
“Familiars don’t sound too bad. Look at Sammy.”
“That’s because he’s a witch’s familiar. The ones I faced were dark and unrelenting. Though the fire cat was the worst as I had no way to put it out. Anyway, there may come a time when Morpheus asks you to face these familiars. Defeating each one will take a different skill. What technique works for one likely won’t work for another.”
“But I only have one spell.” I wasn’t sure if conjuring a shield to defend myself would help if I faced the same trials Lucy had.
“Conjuration may mean you can’t move items around the room, but you can still conjure spectrals of your own.”
“You can’t create something from nothing,” I told her.
“Not usually, no, but your shields come from nothing, don’t they?”
“I guess.”
“If the trial should come to you defending yourself, use whatever objects you can in the room to conjure a familiar. Fork, spoon, anything. You only need something physical for your magic to bond to.”
“So I basically summon creatures to fight for me.”
“For the most part, yes. Ahh, here we are. The Magician’s Closet.” Lucy held her arms wide in front of the Morgansons’ bakery.
“Connie and Harris’ place?” Looking at Maggie, I said, “Did you know it was here?”
“Not in the bakery,” Lucy corrected me, removing a white piece of chalk from her purse. “Through.”
“Right, because why would anything in this world ever make any sense?”
Lucy ignored my remark and drew an arch on the side of Harris and Connie’s bakery. I half-expected the Roadrunner to dash through the invisible tunnel and for Wile E. Coyote to slam into the hard brick. Instead, the brick inside Lucy’s drawing disintegrated, revealing a forest of tangled brambles and hanging vines on the other side.
“Sure is dark in there,” I said, taking a step back.
Lucy nodded. “To deter those who may cross over by accident. Once we go through, you’ll see.”
“No magic chalk then, huh?”
“Teacher’s chalk,” Lucy said, using a term I hadn’t heard since I was a kid.
“Not the cheap, dollar bin kind,” I finished for her, smiling as I did. Back when I was little, I spent hours playing teacher with my dolls, using the same chalk Lucy had used for her portal. “Is this why you scolded me when I drew on the side of your house?”
“I couldn’t let you see the other side. Not yet, anyway.”
“And if I drew on the sidewalk?” She’d never let me use the teacher’s chalk outside, and now I could see why.
“The chalk you used outside was the kiddie variety, nothing more. As for this, I figured using it on a chalkboard in your bedroom was more than safe.”
I wondered then if she’d expected me to stumble on my powers back when I was ten but decided to keep my musings to myself as Lucy stepped through the doorway to whatever was on the other side. Maggie followed soon after, and once we were alone, Sammy stood in front of it.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked me.
“I want to help Maggie.”
“There may be other ways,” he said, licking a paw.
“Any ways you know of?”
“I wish I did. Something about this doesn’t smell right.”
“The fact we’re going to another world through the wall of Harris’ bakery is reason enough for concern.”
“All I ask is that you be careful.” He stepped aside to let me through.
“You aren’t coming with me?” Sammy followed me everywhere. He was my familiar, after all. He wouldn’t stay back here, would he?
“Calm your thoughts. I am going with you, but during your trial, you’re on your own. You need to prove yourself with nothing but your own magic to keep you company.”
“And protect me,” I reminded him.
“I’ll double my wards the best I can, but I can’t promise Morpheus won’t strip them from you once your tests begin.” He looked right at me, then without moving his lips, spoke to me mind-to-mind. “Are you sure?”
Looking at the portal, I didn’t have a choice. “Yes.”
“Then I’m with you the entire way.”
Steeling myself, I squared my shoulders and stared the portal down. Then, with my heart in my throat, I stepped over to the other side, not the least bit surprised when everything else went dark.
Chapter Three
The scene on the other side of the portal wasn’t a forest at all. In fact, aside from the tiny bell above the door, The Magician's Closet was almost a perfect copy of Kat’s shop. Books sat wherever they could, between aisles, on the arms of cushy chairs, and even along the ceiling. Glancing upward, I studied the hovering tomes, their binding surrounded in a soft blue glow.
“Are the books supposed to be up there?” I asked, pointing at them as Lucy stepped up to a nearby counter.
She rang the bell on the desk which sounded more like snow falling onto itself than the bells I was used to back home. When she turned to me again, she waved my comment away. “They aren’t children, dear. These books are older than me. If they want to float along the ceiling, they can.”
“Books are sentient now?” That would definitely make reading more interesting. I’d listened to audio books, but actually having the book talk back? What if I had questions about the plot? What if I was too afraid to read the end? Would it tell me what happened so I wouldn’t have to clutch it in my hands?
“Not sentient, child,” Maggie replied, her gaze turned to the ceiling as well, “magic.”
“In truth, they aren’t real books,” Lucy explained, leaning over the counter to peer down the long hallway behind it. “Morpheus, are you here? I couldn’ve sworn I made an appointment.” She pulled her planner from her purse and ran her finger along the page she’d opened it to. Then, once she was satisfied with her search, she put it away and rang the bell a second time. “Morpheus? Hello?” Lucy emphasized the last word, whistling once she was through.
“He isn’t a dog,” I told her.
“He most certainly is,” she huffed, squaring her shoulders as she stepped behind the counter.
“Are you sure you should be back there?” The sign behind the desk read No Trespassing. All sales final. “This Morpheus guy doesn’t sound very nice.”
“That silly thing?” Lucy asked, gesturing to the bold red and white sign. “Trolls are also jokers. It’s a running thing he has. Don’t worry, I’ve been in the back before. In fact, it’s where you go for your broom.”
“Is there a reason why there are so many books?” They didn’t exactly fit in with what I’d expected when she mentioned a closet. Books belonged on shelves in large studies and behind locked glass cabinet doors so people could admire them from afar, not all over the floor like at As the Page Turns.
“They wander in here sometimes,” Maggie explained as Lucy ventured down the hall. “They’re actually from The Magician’s Library next door. They’ll go home when they’re ready.”
The Magician’s Library. Where had I heard that before? “Chief Tundal mentioned it along with The Witch’s Library back when Lance first pulled me into his office.” I hadn’t paid attention to it at the time as Lance swore he was kidding. “It actually exists?”
“Among others, yes. The Witch’s Library is actually a section inside The Magician’s Library, toward the back. It covers our history, how the first witches came to be, along with a running list of every witch since,” Maggie said.
“That’s a lot of history.”
Maggie nodded. “And a sea of books to go through if you’re looking for something. The filing system over there is—”
“Chaotic?” If it was anything like Kat’s shop, I could only imagine.
“Atrocious,” Maggie said, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared down the hall Lucy had walked through moments earlier. “That chatterbox of a woman had better not be wasting time flirting with him again.”
“Lucy? Flirt?” She may have blushed on occasion and batted her eyes, but my aunt didn’t flirt.
“Oh yes. Not to have him as a suitor, mind you, but to push through her trials.”
“Trials? As in more than one?”
“Very few witches pass their first, so there’s no reason for us to mention it. Don’t worry, once you pass today’s test, we can fill you in on the rest.”
I sighed and sank in a nearby chair, practically sitting on a pile of books that happened to mysteriously appear at the same time. After picking up the stack and placing it on the floor, I sat back and waited for Lucy to return from wherever she’d gone.
Sammy sat inside the door, his expression hard to read. Meeting his gaze, I wondered what he thought about the entire thing. Of course, I also forgot to shield my mind, so every thought I had went straight to him.
“Something’s wrong,” he told me, the voice in the back of my mind sounding grim. “Morpheus is as punctual as they come. He keeps to his appointments.”
“Lucy said she’d find him,” I told him, but even I couldn’t ignore the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“I don’t think he’s here. I can’t sense him.”
Frowning, I was about to ask Sammy what he meant when a wailing sob came from the room at the end of the hall. Maggie jumped as I got to my feet, not waiting for Sammy’s direction before rushing down the hall. Lucy crouched behind a second desk that was more elaborate than the one up front, but whatever she’d found, I couldn’t see it.
“Lucy?” My voice shook as I took another step, stopping short of the desk when Sammy sat in front of me. “What is it?” What didn’t he want me to see?
“We should step outside,” he offered, turning back for the other side of the store.
I didn’t move. “Lucy, what is it?” He eyes were wide, her face pale as she rocked on her heels.
“It’s… it’s Morpheus. He’s been banished.”
“Banished?” I looked from her to Maggie who hovered beside me and had the same shocked expression on her face. “As in sent to another world?”
“No, dear,” Maggie replied, her voice tight. “Banishment is far worse than death. It’s a world between the dead and the living with no way of getting to either side.”
“Limbo?”
She shrugged, then said, “As close as one can get, I suppose.”
“But who’d banish a troll?” If they were the Keepers of Magic, why would someone send them to another world?
“Morpheus can be very kind or very cruel,” Lucy said, getting to her feet and catching herself with a hand before she could bump into the wall behind her. “Witches who can’t pass their trials are sent away from this place, never to return. If Morpheus refused to offer someone a redo—which is preposterous as redos do not exist in our world—then the list of suspects is many.”
“But you already said they need to pass his trial to reach their full potential. How could any of the failed witches do this?” Banishment wasn’t something I’d read about in Magic 101. In fact, it sounded far too advanced for a beginner to practice without it backfiring on them.
“Perhaps an upset parent,” Maggie offered. “Some wizards and witches are too proud to accept when their blood isn’t considered as one of the few who can control their full power. There’s a reason Morpheus has these trials. If a witch or wizard can’t control their magic and bend it to their will during Morpheus’ trials, then how could they expect to control it in a more open setting? Magic can quickly turn to chaos if there’s no way to contain it.”
“Which explains the spell books some of them have,” I said, leaning to one side to peer behind the desk. A dark circle no bigger than a cigarette burn marked the floor, the edges blurred. “Are you sure he didn’t drop a cigarette and burn the floorboards?”
“What a silly thing to say,” Maggie said. “Morpheus never smoked.”
“And you’re sure he isn’t late.”
“He’s never late.”
I released a long breath and rubbed my temples. We weren’t getting anywhere. “Should we call for help?” If Morpheus was banished, there would probably be an investigation, and seeing a
s we were the ones who found—or didn’t find him as the case may be, we had to stick around.
“No!” Lucy snapped, her face turning a dark shade of crimson as she averted her gaze. “Unless you want to land on the suspect list again, I suggest we let someone else handle it.”
“Lucy!” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“Astrid, after all that’s happened with Maggie, do you really want to get stuck with another murder on your hands?”
“My hands? He wasn’t murdered, Lucy.” She said so herself.
“No, this is far worse.”
“And why would it be on my hands? I’m not casting magic at my full potential, remember?”
“She has you there, dear,” Maggie said with a smile even though Lucy couldn’t hear her.
Lucy didn’t say anything, returning to her investigation of the burn mark on the floor. Not knowing what else to do, I slipped from the room and finally took my first breath in what felt like hours as I stood in front of the shop. Nothing had moved since we first walked in, and aside for the pile of books that had appeared on the chair when I’d tried to sit down, everything was in the same exact place as before. This normally wouldn’t have been a problem, but seeing as the books in Kat’s shop flew around like birds, seeing the ones in The Magician’s Closet just hovering there was a little strange.
“Go home,” I told the books, not expecting them to answer. When one of them glowed and hummed, I had to look to Sammy to hear what they said.
“They can’t,” Sammy said after a moment, swiveling his ears, then hissing when they books wouldn’t stop. “Enough!”
“They say anything useful?” Yeah, like books could be listed as a witness to banishment. Still, it was better than nothing. With Maggie and Lucy busy in the back room, it wasn’t like I could leave, either. Lucy had the chalk in her purse, and while the front of the shop had a door, I wasn’t entirely sure where I’d end up once I walked through.
“They’re stuck,” Sammy explained a moment later. “They can speak, but they can’t move.”
“What about the pile on the chair?”
“It was always there, but invisible. You almost sitting on them caused their invisibility cloak to vanish.”