“Not me,” said Smoke with his first grin of the day. “I never met the woman.”
“Listen, Smoke. I don’t want to live the life Lucinda’s chosen for me and I absolutely do not want the one my dad has in mind. I’ve made my choice; this is it. I am a software engineer specializing in the financial industry. Very well paid and happy.”
Smoke glanced around the apartment that was smaller than the entryway of Five Corners farmhouse and snorted.
“Yes, I can see that you’ve chosen well, my Paduan. However, we’ve gone beyond choices right now all the way to need!”
Amber took another sip of the foul tasting herbal tea.
“Okay,” she said, wincing. “I need you to go away.”
“And I need you to find Aunt Lucinda and Robyn!”
Amber tilted her head just enough to catch sight of Smoke out of the corner of her eye. She tried to summon the strength to examine his aura, but the effort only intensified her headache.
“What is this? Some sort of hero’s journey set-up?”
“Hero’s journey? What do you take me for?” demanded Smoke. “I am no one’s Dwarven Hench-person! We have a real situation. Lucinda and Robyn went away for a weekend. One weekend, they said and they haven’t come back.”
“So? As I remember it, they love each other. So what if they take a little time off together?”
“Eight weeks ago!”
Now Amber turned to face him fully.
“Say again?”
“They left the farm for a romantic weekend away and didn’t come back. No phone calls, no faxes, no emails, no smoke signals. Nothing. I’ve heard from them even less than I’ve heard from you. At least I can track you updating the website! I know you’re still alive! I can’t track them!”
“A three hour tour. A three hour tour,” sang Amber, relaxing. “Nice set-up, Smoke. I don’t know how Lucinda found out I was going to get fired today, although I wish she’d warned me.” Amber blushed, realizing that since she was hiding from her family, even if Lucinda had tried to warn her, the message wouldn’t have gotten through. “I am not going to play Cluedo with her. I just got fired during one of the worst economies in a century. I have a resume to update and a job hunt to start.”
“All I can say about your job is, about time, too. You were not born to play with electronics. You’re a witch, Amber. You shouldn’t be ashamed of that!
“Who’s ashamed? I just prefer computers to magic. Consider it a lifestyle choice.”
“Lifestyle? You baby. I should thump you.”
Amber opened one eye and gave him a narrow look. “Well, gee, thanks for your sympathy. I’ve spent the last month trying to show the powers-that-be down in corporate that my team and I should be the ones kept on after the merger. They picked tonight to tell us that ‘thanks, but no thanks,’ they’re going with the other guys.”
Smoke stuck his fists on his hips and glared up at her. “You’ve wasted enough time sucking up to the wrong powers-that-be. Time and beyond for you to get back to your real job. Where your real talents lie.”
Amber continued to try and work the knots out of her back and neck and barely noticed when Smoke stalked off to grab his satchel from beside the door. He pulled out a time darkened scroll and dropped it on the table in front of her.
“Amber Kemp, daughter of Jane, daughter of Lisa, daughter of Christine, last of the daughters of Molly Greson, you’ve been chosen to stand as the guardian of Five Corners.”
Amber’s hands froze, her heart missed several beats, and she stared at the paper in front of her as if expecting it to bite or burst into flame. When she raised her eyes to his she saw the lines pain and grief had drawn across his face.
“Smoke? What’s happened?” she cried. “Where’s Aunt Lucinda?”
“I told you. She’s missing.”
“It’s real?”
“As death.”
“I can’t believe it. Aunt Lucinda – nothing can hurt her. She’s the most powerful witch I’ve ever met. She’s more powerful than …”
“Well, she met something more powerful, obviously,” interrupted Smoke. “She would’ve come home if she could. We don’t know what happened, but we do know that the responsibilities are not being met. That’s why we have to have you.”
“Me? But there are at least, heck, six members of the governing committee of the WWWRAPC more qualified than me.”
She lifted the scroll and tucked it back into Smoke’s satchel. She knew what it said. She’d studied the language, everyone in her family had, even her talentless brother had learned it – although if their father ever found out, well, it would be hell on earth for both of them. She knew what it said and wanted absolutely nothing to do with the responsibilities outlined within.
Smoke ignored her comment and handed her a small, time-yellowed paperback.
“Is this yours?”
Amber opened the book and examined the flyleaf, not that she needed to. She’d received the first edition paperback copy of ‘Lassie, Come Home’ from Uncle Robyn for her tenth birthday. The last time she’d seen this book it was on her bedside bookshelf. She glanced toward the shelf on the other side of the room and decided not to go check.
“I’ve been instructed to give you these as well,” continued Smoke.
Amber took the next book, a large glossy book entitled ‘First Destroy All Giant Monsters: A Guide to Japanese Mythology and Kaiju Movies’ and opened it with a puzzled glance at Smoke, who shrugged. Putting it to one side Amber examined the last. It, at least, seemed more appropriate.
“Psychic Self-Defense? What’s the message here? I’m supposed to go after the monster that killed Aunt Lucinda and Uncle Robyn and what? Think it to death? Show it a bad Tarot reading?”
“Surprisingly, no,” said Smoke. “Near as we can tell they aren’t dead. Just missing. Either way, I’m supposed to take you back to Five Corners farm. You have some Giant Monsters to deal with.”
“What sort of monsters?”
“I have no idea. You’re the witch; you’ll figure it out.”
“Smoke, seriously, I’m not the one for this job! Ask someone from the committee.”
“You want to complain, go to the Ethereal and take it up with the true Power’s-That-Be. I’m not here to listen to arguments. The covenant is yours to bear. Pick it up.”
Amber regarded the possibility without enthusiasm. She needed advice, help. She could call her mother, as if she didn’t know what she’d say. Or her father. No. No. Never!
“I can’t go now, Smoke. I’ve got to start sending out my resume, get some interviews going. The company has just dumped a dozen qualified IT’s on the market and there aren’t that many jobs about in this economy.”
Even to herself this excuse sounded weak, pathetic. Her aunt was possibly in danger. Or … or she was being set up by the psychic side of the family.
Her dad sent the money, the books. Her mother’s side of the family sent a threat to someone she loved.
She wasn’t about to be manipulated by either side. She’d chosen her life. If Lucinda was in danger she’d get herself out. Surely.
Really.
Eight weeks?
Her fingers itched to pull out her own scrying mirror buried at the bottom of her closet since last Thanksgiving. No. She wouldn’t.
“By Fire, girl,” cried Smoke, losing patience with her. “You’re the stubbornest … No. You’re just like your aunt. Well, if you want a job, you’ve got a job. What? Don’t you think we can meet your price? You know we can. We’ll pay you twice the going rate for a dweeb. Three times. I’ve already arranged for a car. They’ll be bringing it around in an hour or so, all paid for, insured and everything. Now stop your whining. We can’t wait anymore for you to grow up. You’re the only one of the blood left besides Lucinda with power enough to be accepted by the Five Corners Covenant. Get off your ass and do your job!”
Amber sighed. This was not what she’d expected when she’d dragged herself home swimmi
ng in self-pity. Being promoted from data management, software engineer, and Web designer, to the Guardian of Five Corners Farm and the head of the World Wide Witches Research Association and Pinochle Club didn’t seem so much of a step up as a step sideways and down into chaos.
Right this minute she had to concentrate on important things. Sleep. Food.
Wait? Car?
“What sort of car?”
* * * * *
A black Aztec, as it turned out.
A shiny, sweet, black Aztec hybrid with tinted windows, moon roof, internet ready radio and a very nice leather interior with heated seats. If Amber had been a little more awake she would have driven the car just for the pleasure of it. Instead she’d piled in what little she’d packed in the time Smoke had allowed her and turned the Aztec’s nose toward Pennsylvania and concentrated on staying between the lines.
The journey from NYC to the wilds of the Poconos Mountains took six hours during which Amber discovered reserves in herself that – honestly, no she didn’t. She consumed dangerous amounts of coffee and stayed awake only because of Smoke’s constant, irritating chatter about nothing important.
Amber avoided the tunnels out of Manhattan from habit. Most commuters regarded the tunnels as entrances to hell and she wasn’t going to take the chance they were right. Instead she zipped south to Staten Island to cross over bridges instead. Going through New Jersey had its own stressors. She had to keep reminding herself that the stench that followed her for the first two hours of the trip was not heralding the imminent arrival of a demon or some such other monster, but as even the New Jerseyites said, the state was supposed to smell that way.
The rest of the journey, once she was out of New Jersey, was a caffeine-exhaustion blur right up until the moment that she turned onto an unmarked gravel road. A few yards, a tight turn, and she passed under the wrought iron archway that marked the end of normalcy and the wards of Five Corners Farm.
No one seeing the house at Five Corners for the first time would think that it was a farm house. It was too dignified. Too beautiful. Too serene and delicate.
The three-story building looked as if it had been transported by a magic wind from the French Quarter of New Orleans. Weathered red brick glowed against the thick, healthy green of the surrounding trees and lawn while delicate wrought iron balconies on each level looked out over the broad, rose-filled garden. Amber knew there were hundreds of acres of land under cultivation giving Five Corners the right to call itself a farm, none of which could be seen from the house. It stood in solitary splendor looking out over what appeared to be unpopulated, unspoiled hills and valleys.
Three of her cousins were standing on the front porch when she pulled into the gravel turnaround. Well, they weren’t exactly her cousins. They were the nephews of the person who’d married her aunt, but calling them cousin was easier, and to be honest, she preferred them to her actual relatives.
She waved as she pulled the Aztec to a halt and was pleased with their enthusiastic welcome.
Their smiles did not fade until Smoke, with a deep, disapproving scowl, climbed out of the car. Smoke stomped across the gravel turnaround and up the short staircase while his brothers descended to help Amber empty out the car.
Amber took the heaviest box and the most important computer bag, and followed the cousins into the house. Fuzzy with fatigue she could only hope that she’d be allowed to crash sometime soon.
“Watch out!” shouted Smoke.
Amber turned sideways and maneuvered her way through tables covered with delicately tatted doilies and other antique debris with which Aunt Lucinda filled her house. The heavy box in her hand seemed drawn toward the most fragile of the ornaments. Ahead of her, Smoke’s younger brothers wrestled the rest of her hastily packed belongings up the stairs.
She paused and examined the foyer again.
“This place hasn’t changed,” said Amber.
“You’d be surprised,” said Smoke. “Let the kids deal with the luggage and you and I’ll chat.”
“Does it have to be now?”
Smoke gave her what could only be called a “speaking” look and turned away.
Amber put the box down on the first step, ran her fingers over the dragon head newel post and gazed up the stairs leading to the upper floors. The last time she’d seen her aunt she’d been standing on this step, Uncle Robyn at her side, and they’d been trying to talk her into staying at Five Corners Farm.
What a thing to do to a kid?
There’d been no chance of that. Amber had just spent five terrified weeks wondering if her parents were going to divorce or reconcile. With the news that they were staying together Amber and big brother Jim couldn’t wait to get home. She’d been all of eleven, Jim fourteen and they’d never been so relieved in their whole lives. The offer of magical training from Aunt Lucinda couldn’t compare with getting back home; and knowing one of the reasons her father was so angry at her mother was the magical ability she’d kept secret through most of their married life, made it even less likely Amber would stay.
A hereditary witch married to a science teacher, the son of science teachers, wasn’t exactly a good match. Something had to give, and in the end, the something was Amber’s mother’s magic. But she claimed to be happy. Even now, years after the event, her mom was still married to the man who’d demanded she give up such an important part of her life.
Amber shivered and put the memories aside. Her mother’s decision was not Amber’s. Those few boyfriends she’d taken time for were all chosen from covens. Or were reasonably open-minded computer dweebs – who liked role playing games and thought she was just really enthusiastic about her avatar.
She had no wish to be stuck in the same situation that had damaged her mother.
“In here, Amber,” Smoke directed her through double doors into the library.
Amber entered, glanced around, then up, then higher, her mouth falling open.
“Oh, by Fire,” she whispered.
“You like it?” Smoke laughed and raised his hands. “Yeah, there’ve been one or two changes round here. Aunt Lucinda finally stopped fighting. No contest. Full knockout. Her book collection won. Look at all of them.” He waved his hand toward the distant ceiling. “We all got tired of piles of books invading the living room. Climbing over stacks to get to the dirty clothing in the laundry room. Do you remember all the boxes in the spare bedrooms, bathrooms, and hallways?”
Amber nodded. “Oh, yes!”
“We couldn’t live like that anymore. The boys and I built an extension.”
“Extension? Is that what you call it? More like a stairway to heaven.”
She was standing on a stone flagged floor staring up a circular tower, three stories high, with gently ascending curving ramps along the book covered walls. At irregular intervals were tall windows with wide padded window seats, beckoning to the weary readers to rest and lose themselves in the books. The ceiling was brilliant stained glass that turned the chamber into a kaleidoscope.
“There are hidden doors on each level to get back into the main house,” said Smoke. “I’ll let you try and find them on your own. And the computer desk is behind that screen.”
“Thanks,” said Amber, her mouth twisting in a wry smile.
If the cousins had hidden them her chances of finding the doors were less than zero. She’d ask for help in a week. That would give them enough time to feel smug.
“First things first,” said Smoke, taking a notebook out of his pocket and flipping it open. “The Farm’s wards are … ouch!”
He ducked too late to avoid being struck in the head by a low flying hardcover book. Smoke glared up at the ceiling and rubbed his head while First Destroy all Giant Monsters lay on the stone floor at his feet.
“Wasn’t that in one of my boxes? I’m sure I packed it,” said Amber, picking it up and finding the torn corner of an envelope she’d tucked in as a bookmark on a particularly good photo of Godzilla. “Oh, Elementals, it is the same copy
! How did it get out here?”
“Have you forgotten? This is the house at Five Corners.”
“Oh,” Amber stared up into the brilliantly colored ceiling and swallowed nervously. “I forgot. But … when did books start falling out of the sky?”
“About three weeks after we finished building the library.”
“Oh.” She continued to study the ranked lines of books. “Oh. Right. That must have given you a shock.”
“Are you kidding? The big surprise was that the house wasn’t throwing books at us before. Now. If your parents had let you come for training when Lucinda invited you we’d be in better shape today,” began Smoke.
“Well,” Amber concentrated on the book in her hands. “Back then I didn’t want to come anyway. I was busy. Going off to visit my eccentric aunt came low on a teenager’s list of fun holidays.”
She blushed as she caught Smoke’s glare.
“And a college kid list and adult list?” Smoke growled something in a language Amber thought she’d heard before. “When are you gonna grow up, Amber? Your dad can’t run your life forever.”
“As it happens, I agree with him on some things,” Amber turned away. “I wanted, want the life I have. I love computers and math. They make sense and do what I want. You can’t rely on magic the same way you can with technology.”
“Amber, you’re a snob. A technology snob. You’re so proud of computers and software and all that modern shit that you can’t see that the old ways still have value. You twit!” His voice became high and squeaky. “Oh, how wonderful, the computer actually turned on today. Well, I’ll tell you something. Computers might be the next big thing, but magic, real magic, is like a refrigerator!”
That caught her attention.
“Excuse me?”
“A fridge. A plain old ordinary fridge. Bog standard, ordinary, and everyone has one. I trust my fridge. It’s great. It’s reliable. I can buy a fridge, stick it in the kitchen. It does its job and doesn’t need me fussing at it. I can use it, ignore it, and it will chug along doing its job, reliably and won’t crash, not for years. It does what I need. Fifteen, twenty years later it will still be just as good at keeping food cold and gives me a place to leave notes to the family that we need more eggs. Computers? You need a new freakin’ computer every year. You can be all caught up in your wonderful computers, Amber, but give me good old reliable magic every time! The refrigerator of life!”
First Destroy All Giant Monsters (The World Wide Witches Research Association) Page 3