“Anyone needing lack-of-character references for witches can apply to me,” said Karl to his reflection. “I can tell them anything they want to know. They’re all like Gloria.”
He rested his aching head against the cool glass. Witches were self-centered, destructive, obsessive, and dangerous.
The headache that had been growing all morning stabbed behind his eyes. Wandering back into his office he lowered himself into his chair and let his head fall onto his folded arms. The weakness was getting worse. Every day it was getting harder and harder to get out of bed. He could barely concentrate from one end of a sentence to another. Before the store went under he was going to have to admit his failure and get some help. Pass the job onto someone with a future.
He shivered. The trembling increased until his whole body was shuddering. He clenched his hands into fists, his nails biting into his own flesh. Color fled his face and his eyes unfocused. After a moment he shook his head and looked around the room.
What did I come in here to do?
He glanced down at his knotted fingers and absently massaged his stinging palms.
To hell with that. I can’t even remember what I’m doing from one minute to the next.
Time to concentrate on the job. He had the knowledge, the ability, and the training. He could do anything he put his mind to. Hands flat on the table he pushed himself to his feet and turned toward the door. He would start with …
As he reached the office door his phone rang. Cursing mildly as the sharp ring tore loose his headache he held his breath for a moment then snatched up the receiver forcing cheerful energy into his voice.
“Laurenville Books. Karl Benn speaking.”
“Oh, baby, I’m sorry. So sorry.” His mother’s voice was tight with recent tears. “I’ve just had a call. Mike … Mike is dead.”
“What?” Karl dropped into his chair, which squeaked and rocked back, almost dropping him to the floor. “When? God, Mom, what happened?”
“I don’t have the story yet,” his mother sobbed, and Karl supported his forehead on the palm of his hand, breathing deeply to hold back his own threatening tears.
“Mom, should I come home?”
“Yes, baby,” his mother’s voice shuddered as she swallowed tears. “His parents are asking for you. Can you come home tonight? They are sitting … what is it? … Shiva and want you to be there. You were his best friend.”
Karl stared through the one way mirror in his wall at the mostly empty store, and the few snoring non-customers.
“On my way, Mom. No one’s gonna miss me here.”
* * * * *
“What happened to you yesterday?” demanded Rust, bouncing into the library one step ahead of his younger brothers. “Smoke wouldn’t tell us anything.”
“I was stupid,” said Amber. “I went to that bookstore and I suffered an attack that has somehow contaminated me in a way a sensitive house ward can detect. I have to find out what it is, how it got there, where it came from, and how to get it off.” Amber stirred yet another spoon of sugar substitute into her coffee and watched the light patterns change on the liquid’s surface. “Does that cover it?”
“And since you can only see it on the Ethereal,” said Smoke, “you have to go into soul-flight. Find out more about it.”
Amber’s head came up and she stared at Smoke.
“Seriously? I … I … I don’t know if that would be a good idea. Not right now.”
The younger cousins exchanged worried looks and nodded.
“That sounds dangerous,” said Lightning.
“It will be,” said Amber. “I’m still tired.”
“But it is unavoidable,” insisted Smoke. “She needs to go, see the Elementals, and ask them for guidance.”
There was a long silence after that remark. Amber didn’t want to think about what was involved and the cousins were respectfully contemplating who and what the Elementals were.
“Um …” began Amber and stopped. Really, there was nothing she could say to that. Or, nothing she was willing to say.
“That seems to be the whole of it,” agreed Smoke, then he considered. “And if you have the time, ask them about your aunt. Okay?”
“I don’t …” Amber blushed. “You’re assuming that they’ll talk to me at all.”
“There is that. I can barely bring myself to say ‘hi’ to you right now, since you haven’t brushed your teeth.” Smoke smirked at her then dodged the pillow she threw at him.
“I feel like someone’s been beating on me for a year,” muttered Amber, using a nearby chair to pull herself to her feet.
“If I say you look it, will you hit me?” asked Manny.
Amber rested her head against the nearest bookcase hoping that no one could see her hands trembling. She clenched her fists, but the tension only increased the shaking so she let them fall open.
“What else could I do?” she asked.
“Nothing that will get you the same information,” insisted Smoke.
“Uh …” Amber swallowed twice. Ever since she’d seen the Ethereal Planes at the bookstore she’d known this conversation was heading her way and she’d hoped by the time it arrived she’d have worked out what to say. “We … We should get one of the other witches from the WWWRAPC to do a flight over the bookstore. Get a second opinion.”
“Firstly,” said Smoke, “what the hell good would that do, exposing someone else to danger? And secondly, this is still a Five Corners’ issue, not a World Wide Witches Research Association and Pinochle Club issue. No talking to anyone outside the family.”
“That isn’t fair, Smoke. You’re cutting me off from advice from experienced witches. People who have known Lucinda and Robyn for years. Don’t you think they’d want to help?”
“Right now, no one knows that Lucinda is missing. The covenant requires you to maintain the safety of Five Corners. You can’t announce to the world that the guardian of Five Corners is missing. I say that means you can’t talk about her disappearance with the Association.”
“Smoke! No one at the WWWRAPC knows anything about the covenant.”
“That you know of,” shot back Smoke. “I’m serious. No contact outside the family.”
Amber subsided and sank back into her chair.
“You can, however, seek advice from the Elementals,” continued Smoke. “You know what they’re like. It might sound obscure and not to the point, but Ethereal is their realm. If it happened there, they know all about it.”
And there lies the rub, as Hamlet would say.
She didn’t know the Elementals.
Despite her years of training as a witch and the instruction she’d received on meditation it was not something that came easily to Amber. Her mind was a complicated, noisy place. She was a driven, ambitious person. Sitting still and doing nothing but thinking, well, trying not to think, wasn’t her. She’d get distracted and start thinking. She tried to clear her mind, but then something interesting would occur to her and she wanted to be up and doing. New computer function, not a problem. Update the website, sure, right away. Stay still for an hour … maybe not. Half hour, sure, well, no. Ten minutes, no problem. No. Didn’t work.
Blanking her mind
Not so easy.
Unfortunately, in order to reach the state of meditation that permitted soul-flight and entry onto the Ethereal Planes, a witch had to be able to meditate for hours. At least, initially. Amber knew that once she’d achieved the right state of mind, reached out into the Ether, and “bonded” with the Elementals, out of body meditation took much less time.
She’d heard.
She’d never achieved it.
Ever.
She might be able to skirt the edges of what was considered a meditation most of the time just enough to feel relaxed, but she was nowhere near ready to go into herself, reach into the Ether and reach someone, something, that most witches strived for and never achieved.
When Amber had been sixteen, Aunt Lucinda had instructed he
r to seek out the Elementals and dedicate herself to their service, warning her that it would be difficult and would take many months, maybe years of deep meditation. Amber took note of the date Lucinda had asked her and when she judged enough time had passed casually told her aunt that she’d done it.
Lying? A sixteen-year-old? What a surprise!
A couple of times over the years guilt had motivated her into trying again, but she quickly lost interest in the frustrating discipline of meditation. She was a computer programmer. Much more satisfying. She wrote the code and the computer did what she said. Most of the time.
Admit it. It worked most of the time.
Magic – she had to take a lot of it on faith. Wait and sometime later there might be a change in the universe, maybe.
No. It wasn’t that bad. When she’d practiced magic she’d done very well except for anything that involved meditation.
Now, of course, she couldn’t dodge reality.
Smoke was fully expecting her to just drop into a trance and go and chat with eternal entities on the assumption she both knew where they were and had done so before.
Mm hmm. It was like he was assuming she knew Rick Springsteen’s cell phone number.
Hard to get hold of and only given to real good friends.
“Uh, Smoke,” said Amber. “What if the Elementals won’t come near me for the same reason the house didn’t want me to come in?”
“You’re going to have to convince them,” said Smoke.
“I … don’t know if I want to risk going out of body right now. After what happened, being pulled out, I might … it might be difficult to get back in.”
Smoke shot her a narrow-eyed stare. “You’ll be prepared.”
“Uh …”
“What is wrong with you?
“Uh …” She searched for a believable evasion. A way to delay this particular inevitability. There wasn’t one. If she wanted to avoid this particular trip she’d have to use the truth. Or part of it. “I’ve never been attacked on the Ethereal before.”
Smoke frowned. “Good point. Unfortunately no one can offer to keep you company. We all enter the Ethereal from our own minds so no one can join your particular path. Sorry, Amber, you’re on your own. But,” he squeezed her shoulder, “we’ll stand guard over your body here.”
“Comforting,” said Amber.
“Delay is not going to help,” said Rust. “Tell us what you want and we’ll take it out to the great circle.”
“Great.” Amber stared out of the window for a moment then shook her head. “No, I can’t do this in the great circle. I don’t dare leave the house. There’s no guarantee that it will let me back in again.”
The cousins started talking at once, denying the possibility, then paused.
“You’re right,” said Smoke.
“If that is the case, and I can’t leave the library … will the house let me do magic in here?”
“In the library?” Smoke rubbed his chin. “The last, actually, the only ritual that was conducted in here was the one that ritually joined the new building to the rest of the house. Set up the protections for the books. I suppose, if you gotta there’s no reason why you shouldn’t be able to.”
They both waited and watched the ceiling. Nothing fell. No book banning their actions, and worse in Amber’s point of view, nothing supporting it either.
Well, given all the counts against her the cousins wouldn’t be surprised if she told them that she couldn’t get into soul-flight, or that the Elementals didn’t appear. All she had to do was lie on the floor, wait for a while, and tell them it didn’t work. Then if she were lucky, Smoke would back down on the no-contact-with-the-WWWRAPC and they’d either solve the problem or have useful suggestions.
“Okay. We’ll work from in here.” Smoke considered that then nodded. “Just keep in mind you aren’t at your best today. The general rule is not to attempt anything beyond your body’s ability to tolerate.”
“I won’t go far.” That at least was the truth.
Smoke gave her a suspicious stare.
“And I … I’ll be careful,” she continued.
“See that you are.”
Setting up a magical circle could take as little or as much complexity as the practitioner desired. Given her current state of exhaustion Amber elected for “little” relying on the house wards to keep her safe. Safer.
Smoke sent the cousins to collect her requested magical equipment. The plan must have had the house’s approval since the door to Aunt Lucinda’s magical storeroom opened at their approach.
“Or it could mean it’s tired of having me inside the wards,” suggested Amber when she was told.
“It’s a plan, Amber,” said Smoke. “The house despises inactivity.”
She turned her head to examine him. “Excuse me? A house that has been in the same place for over a century despises inactivity?”
“I didn’t say it wasn’t ironic.”
“Like the song,” said Lightning, cheerfully.
Amber frowned at him. “The only thing ironic about the song “Ironic” is that there are no examples of irony in it.”
“Pay attention,” said Smoke. “Tell us what you’re planning or we can’t help you.”
“What?”
“Say the words, Amber. Words and intention are needed for magic.”
“Okay, fine. I’m going to travel the Ethereal Planes intentionally. If I’m very, very lucky I will reach the Elementals, assuming they will permit it. If I don’t, well, shit happens. After all that I hope to return to my body and get back inside before I die. Does that cover everything?”
“So we guard the body,” said Lightning. “Done it before.”
“Yeah. I’m going to be using meditation chimes as my focus,” Amber pointed at the tiny bell in Smoke’s hand. “It is very important that you don’t stop.”
“Again,” said Lightning, “done it before.”
“Then why did you ask?” demanded Amber, fatigue making her irritable.
“You have to tell us,” said Smoke patiently, “or we are not permitted to help. Rules are rules, girl.”
Amber hesitated. The explanation was welcome and simple enough to be comforting – as far as it went. The trouble was she was supposed to already know this. She was supposed to be experienced, practiced at the art of voluntarily leaving her own body and going into soul-flight.
The yank-out-of-body experience she’d undergone at Laurenville Books was the absolute first time she’d successfully separated from her body and seen the Ethereal Planes.
And since she’d never been on the Ethereal she’d never seen the Elementals or spoken to them.
Smoke and the others were assuming that this was another of her skills; and now was not the time to tell them that she hadn’t.
Amber shook her head at them and started sorting through her supplies. Unearthing a stub of white wax marker she inscribed a loose circle nine feet across in the center of the stone floor. She used a compass to find true north then arranged colored candles to mark the four cardinal points – Yellow for the East and Air, Red for the South and Fire, Blue for the West and Water, and Green for the North and Earth and a white candle in the center of the circle – for the Spirit.
Smoke gave the meditation bell a couple of gentle taps. Amber considered the sound. It resonated deep within her and she gave a nod.
“That will do.”
“Okay, ready when you are.”
Amber shrugged and sank down to sit cross-legged on the floor. She was grateful that one of the earliest “magical assumptions” the WWWRAPC had examined was whether it was necessary to be sky-clad for magical purposes. The finding – the Elementals, Elements, and Gods and Goddess couldn’t give a shit what was worn – the magic still worked, dressed or not. The WWWRAPC hadn’t been able to convince the magical community at large of this finding so the recommendation listed on the WWWRAPC website was – (birthday) suit yourself.
Smoke started ringing the
small bell, a gentle double beat.
“Okay, this is to get you started. Get you into a trance. And this,” he beat out a rhythm that put Amber in mind of an old-fashioned fire truck, “is the signal for you to get yourself back here if I see your body is in trouble or you’ve been gone too long.”
“Got it,” said Amber with a smile. “What?”
“Just making sure you haven’t forgotten. You did say you were neglecting your training of late.”
Amber blushed. He was exactly right. He couldn’t assume that she remembered the simplest of magical rules. Not after her pathetic showing the previous day. And the truth was she had forgotten a lot about soul-flight. All she knew for certain was that she’d never done it before.
And the committee of WWWRAPC had. They’ll be able to help. To talk to the Elementals on her behalf just as soon as Smoke lifted his little ban.
“And when you meet the Elementals?” pressed Smoke.
“I will be scared to death,” said Amber with complete honesty.
“See to it that you are.”
The only thing Amber allowed herself by way of preparation, since the house would not allow her to do anything as simple as a cleansing, purifying bath, was to set light to a little white sage in a conch shell. Then she took her fan and raised it to her lips. She was worried that the magic embedded in the fan would not answer her any more than the Elementals, but the familiar blue glow came when she concentrated and spread from her hand to the fan, or was it from the fan to her hand. She frowned. Which was it? Did she have the magic or was the old stored magic all that there was?
It didn’t matter. If she was using stored magic this ritual was her only chance to reconnect to the Elemental flow. She rose to her feet and turned to walk the circle, sun wise, her fan-wand pointed at the floor.
“I, Amber, witch, do cast this Circle,” she intoned, “to be a sacred space. Protected and protecting. Set me apart from the world of man; take me to the world of the sacred. Hold me safe between the worlds as I work my magic. Spirits and guardians of the Quarters I do call you to my Circle. Do thou watch over my journey and keep me safe. Witness my workings and lend me thy aid.”
First Destroy All Giant Monsters (The World Wide Witches Research Association) Page 8