“I just reinforced my house spells and forgot to let them down. Shit, I am so sorry!” I knelt down beside him.
After a few moments, he opened his eyes and sighed. “You’ve decided to heed my words about your personal safety.”
“Can you scoot in here? I need to close the door.”
He obliged and ended up sitting on the floor propped against the couch. Eventually, he worked his way onto the couch itself.
“Clearly I was not protecting myself enough,” I said. “Whatever demolished my store and impersonated my cat wanted my blood. I didn’t think I’d made so many enemies but, dammit. Dammit! My shop’s a mess, and my arm hurts like hell.”
“We must bandage your wound,” he said.
“Don’t worry, I can do that. Will you be okay for a few minutes?” He nodded. In the bathroom, I found gauze and iodine then washed up, noting I might need stitches. Except, time was kinda of the essence, so I made up a spell on the spot to seal the skin, at least for a little while. “Meet as one which once you were, knit together like bone and fur.” It seemed to work rather well. I wondered if I should take some antibiotics. I did down several ibuprofen before I changed my shirt and went back to see to the rest.
Back in the living room, I asked Qyll if he was okay.
He nodded. “I should quite like a cup of tea.”
“Of course. Can you make it there, and I’ll join you in a sec?” I pointed at the library.
Tea made, bourbon retrieved, and calm Elven exterior replaced, I sat down at the table across from him.
“Here.” I pushed a stack of tomes at Qyll. “Look through these and try to find a spell that uses blood.” His dark eyebrows went up, but he opened the top book.
“These are grimoires,” he said, a hint of wonder in his voice.
“Yeah, why?”
“I’ve never seen one up close like this. I’ve handed a few over to Evidence and such, but I’ve always been a bit curious.”
“Have at it then.”
After a little while, I asked, “Do your people um… do spells?”
He actually smirked at me and for a moment, looked every bit like a Fae prince, imperious and beautiful. “No. Our magic comes from syl’myh. Roughly translates as ‘starlight.’ We do not learn magic, as some do. We simply are. Our powers are nothing compared to many tribes in the Na’ndr.”
“The nandor?”
“Sorry. Otherwhere. It is our word for that.”
“So, what can you do?”
“Do?” He looked confused.
“Your powers.”
Qyll sat up stiffly. “That topic is not something we consider polite conversation.”
“I’ve never been accused of being polite.” I grinned. He softened.
“I imagine my powers, as you call them, are mere parlor tricks here in Earth. In general, we are known for our sleep manipulation.” He cleared his throat. “Are we all right to continue?”
I desperately wanted to keep probing, but manfully reminded myself we had work to do. As I leafed through pages of careful illustrations of werewolves and faeries and pandaemons, hex mages and sanguimancers―lots of stuff I didn’t recognize―I started thinking. Making a mud version of you is threatening, yeah. It’s sort of stupid, and it’s the work of a newbie, but it means someone is paying attention to you and wants you to know it. But blood magic? That’s serious business. Too much can go wrong, unless you’re a very experienced practitioner. It’s generally the weapon of choice for higher-order Demons and Celestials. Or Wrach Du, the Black Witches.
“These are beautiful,” Qyll said, mostly to himself. “I’ve heard they have some at the Domus Libro.”
“What’s the Domus Libro?”
“The Eternal Library. The name is actually much longer, but it translates to something like the infinite house of eternal books. It’s sort of the Otherwhere equivalent to your Library of Congress. Though much older and with much stranger contents on the shelves.”
“I’ve never heard of that,” I said. “Where is it? Can I see it?”
Qyll smiled ruefully. “I’ve never been there myself. I don’t know of anyone who has. It’s very well-hidden and very, very difficult to reach. It’s just… a big old library. As big and old as the universe.”
I sighed. “What kinds of books?”
“Grimoires, for starters. Histories and genealogies, memoirs and travelogues. That sort of thing. But some say, there are other kinds of books, too. There’s a book written by every living thing in the universe.”
“How does every living thing in the universe write a book for a library no one can get to?”
“From what I understand, there is a scribery. And the scribes write the stories of living things as they are lived. And at the end, the book is kept there, in the Eternal Library. Forever.”
“Qyll, wait!” I grabbed his hand. “Would it have one of those books of creation? The ones they’re using to create the golems?”
He shrugged. “I suppose it’s possible, but we ought not count it among our assets lest we are tempted to go on a wild duck hunt.”
I laughed. “You mean a wild goose chase?”
“I will never get the hang of your idioms, I fear.”
I looked around my own library. “I wonder if there’s anything in any of the grimoires about that place. But you’re right, we don’t have time to go through them right now. Looks like I know what I’m doing on my next eighty-seven weekends.” It was frustrating to think there might be answers, but I couldn’t get to them.
We went back to the books we had on hand.
After a while, I leaned back, closing my eyes. Qyll sat bent over a volume, engrossed, one pointed ear sticking out, pale against his jet hair. His jacket draped over the back of his chair, his arms bare, revealing his well-defined muscles.
“This appears to be a spell for finding children.” Qyll looked up.
The pages depicted a woman putting a small knife to her palm. The droplets of blood made a trail across the page to a drawing of a child, a little boy in a copse, crying. Ye Olde Englishe caption drove the point home.
“But I didn’t lose my kid.”
“No, but I wonder if it would work on beings that carry the same blood. Or items that are smeared with it. Blood stays on a body much longer than most people are aware.”
I shuddered. “Well thanks, Mr. Gruesome.”
I took another look, relying on my interpretation of the drawings and not my ability to translate Old English. “Damn. Maybe. It’s worth a try. I’m pretty desperate.” It was a simple spell. It called for a birch switch, a bowl of water, and some of my blood. You were supposed to put the blood in the water, soak the birch switch, and the switch would guide you.
“Do you know of a birch tree nearby?” he asked.
I laughed. “We’re not kicking it this old school, Q.” I got up and dug around in a trunk marked MISCELLANEOUS. At the bottom, I found a sturdy metal compass. It was from my failed attempt at being a Girl Scout. The problem was, I just kept using magic to do all the badges and got kicked out for cheating.
“Let’s go.” Both of us winced as we rose, our respective hurts reminding us they were there.
Qyll drove, and I rode shotgun, wielding the compass. The sun was well up and rousing life into the world. In the parking lot of the Broom, I’d carefully pricked my finger and squeezed a few drops of blood onto the compass. “Expiscor sanguis,” I whispered three times. The dial on the compass spun wildly clockwise, then counterclockwise. It stopped firmly on southeast.
“There we go.”
Every couple of minutes, I called out something like, “East.”
“I’m going east.”
“Go more east. No, wait, southwest.”
“I can’t turn around, I’m on the expressway.”
“Go west!”
Finally, after an hour, Qyll pulled over. We were in Cherokee Park, by Hogan’s Fountain. “We’re never going to get there in a timely fashion. Let us do
this my way.” He held out his hand for the compass.
“Ooo, you going to take me to see Galadriel?”
Qyll scowled. “Surely now that Elves live among you Humans, you will seek to portray us in a more realistic and flattering light. Those pop culture specimens were conceived by Humans who had never seen a real Elf before. Pixies, perhaps. A Gnomic or a Mazoku.”
Under my breath, I murmured, “He’s an angry elf.” Which earned me a baleful glare.
He led me into the parkland, far enough that we could no longer hear any traffic. It was a good thing I didn’t have to watch the compass so I could concentrate on not tripping over fallen tree limbs. After a few moments, the air changed. It was somehow cooler and older too, as though we were in a part of the woods still wild and unclaimed. Through the leaves, the sky glared, heavy with threatened rain.
Finding beings in Otherwhere is not nearly as easy as it is in Earth. Things aren’t precisely linear. Not only that, but time is what you might call ‘fluid’. Some parts don’t even have time―talk about a mindfuck. You could spend a hundred years there, and it would feel like a few seconds. Where Qyll took me was clearly the boundary between Earth and Otherwhere, which is sort of like doing a few grains of cocaine. You aren’t hooked yet, but always in danger of going too deep.
“Where are we?” I asked in a hushed tone.
Qyll looked at the compass then back over his shoulder. “I’m not sure, but I believe this is the outer demonkeep. Sort of a vestibule of this part of Otherwhere. We must hurry. The longer we delay, the better the chance of…”
“Of what? Chance of what?”
My tattoos hummed faintly against my skin. I clutched my bag and girded my loins.
“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you to stay close. You’re only half-Other, and we are in murky waters.”
“This isn’t my first rodeo, pal,” I hissed. “Don’t worry about me.”
That was almost a complete lie. I’d never been to the Other side of the Rift by myself. I’d been with my mother, an excellent guide and negotiator, and we only went to the Human-friendly parts. My knowledge was more book-learnin’ and less practical.
A few more steps, and we came into a huge clearing. In the center, surrounded by a moat, soared a tower so tall, I couldn’t see the top. It was made of small round rocks. As we got closer, I saw they were skulls.
On the far side was a bridge. Complete with a troll.
“Marvelous,” Qyll said under his breath. “A troll bridge. But this is where we’ve been led. Let’s hope your spell is accurate.”
“HALT. NONE SHALL PASS.” The creature stood four feet tall and near as wide and looked a hell of a lot like your average fairytale troll―warts, big gnarly feet, the works.
“Good sir, we request―” I began.
“I AM A FEMALE,” he… er… she boomed.
Oops.
“Perhaps you will allow me to do the talking,” Qyll suggested softly. He grabbed my collar and lifted me so my toes barely brushed the ground.
“Let me go, you big idiot!” I huffed.
“NONE SHALL PASS,” the she-troll repeated.
“I request an audience with your master. I have a captive, and am here to collect a bounty.”
The trolless shifted on her massive hairy feet and wiped a hand across her dribbling nose.
“I suggest you allow us entrance, madam, lest you risk the wrath of your master.”
The troll looked somewhat unconvinced, but also smug. “Don’t got a master, then do I? I gots a mistress. And she’s loads more powerful’n you is.”
“Your mistress is so powerful, she is often mistaken for a master,” I piped up.
Trolly puffed out her chest. “Tha’s right, innit? The Red Queen is known far and wide for her… her…” She ran out of grand words and stood there blinking.
Ohhh.
Damn. Damn, damn, damn. We were on the Red Queen’s doorstep.
Thinking I would give the guard a little nudge, I wound up a push spell. I had written it while being pursued by some bullying girls in fifth grade and gleefully had gleefully shoved the blasted Amanda Tilford and Hollyanna Albert halfway across the playground. (They were fine, no harm done. Except, they left me alone for the rest of our days together.) But something went awry when I it let loose on the troll. She flew backward into the air, sailed over the moat, crashed against the tower wall, and fell into the water below. Well, smack my ass and call me Judy.
Qyll dropped me, and we began to run, him half-dragging me along. “What the devil was that? Have you never done magic here?”
“No!” I blurted. “What the…”
“Your magic is more powerful here. That’s why powers across the board blossomed after the Rift. Earth is not very magical. Otherwhere is. Power is amplified here.” He was following the compass still.
We crossed the bridge. I looked down and spotted the troll flailing in the muddy water.
More troll guards were stationed at the other end of the bridge. I flicked off a few spells, and trolls went flying off the edge like pins at a bowling lane. I think I found a new hobby.
We ran ahead and kept running, until we found ourselves just inside the door to a cavernous room. We skidded to a stop.
It was as if a Vegas nightclub had had a baby with Hell. Dark. Loud. Smelling of burnt things and brimstone.
A couple of grand bars staffed by all manner of creature―typical Vampires and Weres but also a few ghost-like things and several beasts I couldn’t identify. In the center, a huge stage sat surrounded by small tables. The stage was currently occupied by some kind of sex show, to which the audience was encouraged to play along. At intervals of twenty and forty feet along the walls were balconies with more tables and what looked like rooms behind them. And above those, soaring high over the crowd, Demon trapeze artists swung and flipped in the spotlights, all of them stark naked. The tables ranged from tiny two-person to enormous banquet-style slabs that could seat twelve. Notable was a large statue best described as a very, very happy satyr. At a table to our left, a couple was making out like there was no tomorrow, and I’m fairly certain there was an orgy going on in the corner, but it was too dark to see very clearly.
Then it hit me. “Wait, this is the Otherwhere side of the Queen of Hearts.”
“It would indeed seem so.” Qyll narrowed his eyes.
“Have you ever been here?”
He shook his head. “I knew it existed, but no. This is not my typical milieu.”
“Oh? And what is?”
Before I could question him further, a voice blared.
“STOP.”
In an instant, all movement and noise ceased. At the far end of the room was a wide staircase coated in thick red carpet. Descending it was one of the women who attended Antaura when she’d barged into my shop.
Qyll tensed beside me. He started to say, “Don’t do anything stupid―”
“Give me back my blood!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. My voice echoed throughout the vast space.
“Perhaps we should relearn the meaning of, ‘don’t say anything stupid.’”
One by one, the partygoers turned to me then began to laugh until someone struck up a chant. “GIVE HER BLOOD! GIVE HER BLOOD!” The noise was deafening.
“I was under the impression you wanted to live through this day,” Qyll said in my ear through gritted teeth. “It seems I was terribly mistaken.”
The Demon woman from the staircase was now in front of us, her face a mask of anger. “I am Vishna. Her ladyship requests your presence in her private chambers.”
“Wait,” I said. “We’re not going anywhere until we know how this works.”
A quizzical look settled on Vishna’s face. Up this close, I marveled at her caramel skin and onyx eyes. Her black hair was tied in an elaborate braid snaking down one shoulder of a white sari but more see-through. Beneath the sheer cloth was a perfect female form, tits to toes. “If you are asking about hospitality, know no harm will c
ome to you in this place. My lady does not do battle in her home and places of business. Despite your ungracious arrival.”
Qyll and I looked at each other. Something felt off, but then again, I was in a cross-dimensional bar/brothel with a Dark Elf being escorted around by a horned Demon woman. The bar for weird was set pretty low.
“Fine. But people know where we are.” I said. “Just FYI.”
Vishna gave a curt nod, and we set off after her through the maze of tables. From halfway up the curving staircase, I confirmed that yes, yes there was an orgy happening in the corner. Vishna saw me gawping, an amused look on her flawless face. “Would you care to join? There is no need to rush and you are, technically, guests here.”
“Um, no. Nope, thank you.” I turned to Qyll. “How about you?”
He ignored me and said to Vishna, “Your offer is most gracious.”
We went up to the balcony where more people did more orgies. I still wasn’t tempted.
Vishna unlocked a door with a key hanging on her bracelet. Inside was a small anteroom, with two enormous armed Demons flanking the door opposite us. One of them had more eyes than I was comfortable with and the other had rows of shark-like teeth. They both held curved golden blades in each of their four hands.
The doorway between them dissolved to reveal an elevator, an old-fashioned kind, lined in mirrors with an ornate gold rail and thick red carpet.
I glanced at Qyll, but his face was as calm as ever. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans as we stepped in. The door reappeared, and it felt like the elevator was moving. Vishna stared ahead.
No one spoke.
The elevator opened into a dimly lit room that looked like it came out of the Modern Evil Castles Catalog. A bed the size of a swimming pool dominated the middle, decked with sumptuous silk and velvet sheets. Murals of Humans doing unspeakable things with Demons covered the walls. Something I assumed was music for the demonic set played from an unseen source. A fireplace so big you could park a minivan in it crackled with blue flames.
Muddy Waters (Otherwhere Book 1) Page 17