"Wait a second! A minute ago you said failure at The Hub was inconceivable, and now you're saying all kinds of kids fail. So which is it?"
Melodious bent his chin upwards, scratched the tip of his nose with his beard, and cocked his head to peer sideways at Carole. "Obviously in this situation it's both. A perfectly sound explanation. Understand?"
"Understand?" Carole jumped to her feet, feeling an incredible urge to tie his eyebrows into a granny knot. "Understand? First you tell me that my parents are alive but I can't see them because they just happen to be living in another dimension with a bunch of weirdos like you, but apparently that's not as important as a school full of barfing kids who never fail but fail anyway. Are you bonkers? Of course I don't understand. You're not making any sense!"
Philamount's eyebrows shot up his forehead to hide beneath the white bush of his hair. "Calm yourself Miss Sylphwood. I know this all seems rather confusing, but allow me the opportunity to explain further. And please, sit down!" The last was very much as a command.
Carole found herself sitting without even realizing she'd moved.
"Now then, just because students fail the transdimensional jump test, doesn't mean they themselves are failures. It only means that they're not jumpers. A fish is a creature that swims, a bird is a creature that flies, but is a fish a failure because it cannot fly? Not at all. It is still a perfectly good fish. And likewise at Hub Central, these students are not failures, they're simply not jumpers."
"Well why didn't you say that in the first place? Now I understand perfectly. They're pukers, not jumpers."
He snorted menacingly, but before he could respond further, she said, "Wait a second. Does this have anything to do with those ghosts I saw last night?"
"Indeed it does, Miss Sylphwood. A brilliant deduction. Last night you managed a transdimensional jump...of sorts. Technically speaking it wasn't totally successful. You sort of wedged yourself between the two dimensions, but it was a valiant effort nonetheless, considering you've had no formal training whatsoever."
"I did? It was?"
"Yes, you did. Probably accidental on your part, more likely you stumbled over, but you still managed a successful landing between the two."
"Between which two?"
"Why, this Monobrain Universe and the Ghostly Spirit Realm of course. It was only a lucky coincidence that I happened to be visiting with some ghostly colleagues, when the two dimensions collided. A dreadful experience, was it not? Definitely not the way transdimensional travel should feel. I myself was quite disoriented for a time. However once I realized what had happened, I took a few readings and discovered that a dimensional connector was close by--extremely close. And since the monobrain connector is the only one still missing from the Hub, well it was obvious which dimension had crashed into us. So, I jumped over for a quick peek, but was unable to locate the connector. Instead, I found you."
"Wait a sec," Carole said, chewing on her bottom lip, "I think I get it. You mean the spook world and my world somehow overlapped, and that's why I could see the gravestones but not actually touch them. They were only partially here."
"Those 'spooks' prefer their dimension to be known as The Nightshade and Ghostly Spirit Realm, if you please, but yes, your assessment is basically correct. It was also fortunate that you didn't jump completely into the Ghostly Spirit Realm last night, for multitasking is not a thing to be taken lightly these days. Certainly not since The Great Conundrum."
"What do you mean?"
"Did you not hear the werewolf?"
"That thing really was a werewolf!?"
"Howling, hungry and hunting for you. Had you been silly enough to jump totally into the Nightshade Universe, I'm quite certain the creature would have found you, and that my dear, would have unquestionably been your first and final transdimensional jump!"
He peered down at Carole, who had become very still. "I do not say such things to frighten you Miss Sylphwood, only to warn. It is through no fault of your own that monobrain schooling is not up to snuff when it comes to real knowledge, but there is little we can do about that now except fill in as many gaps as possible. May I continue?"
Carole opened her mouth, but before she could speak her ears popped and the world whipped violently off kilter.
* * *
- 7 -
Carole pitched face first into cold, slimy muck. "Ew, gross!" She pushed herself to all fours and spat the foul sludge out of her mouth. "Disgusting!"
Thankfully, the world had stopped spinning. Unfortunately, it was now totally blanketed in a gray mist. "Professor, are you still here?"
There was no answer.
"Professor Philamount?" She jumped to her feet and let out a small sigh of relief. The mist came only to her knees, but, along with the fog, she was now surrounded by a murky tangle of shriveled and misshapen trees. Most had only a few leaf-like globs stuck to their sparse branches. Oddly enough, they all seemed to be pointing in her direction.
She inched towards the nearest tree. It resembled a stunted apple draped in gooey black moss, or was it folds of rotting flesh? She crinkled her nose. The air certainly smelled bad enough.
As she stood staring, the mist began to flow around the tree.
Strange, she didn't feel any breeze.
She glanced over her shoulder. The fog was perfectly still. She looked down. Again, no motion. There only seemed to be movement around that one tree.
It wasn't the mist at all. The apple tree was moving.
Heart pounding, she backed away, while looking wildly about. There was nothing but forest in all directions. The tree suddenly lurched her way, revealing a small patch of light in the gloom.
Carole dashed for the opening, but a thick root snaked across her path. Diving over, she flipped a perfect handspring, fought off a branch that grasped for her throat, and kept running. Seconds later she burst free of the forest and sprinted across open ground, not stopping until she'd put at least a hundred yards between her and that sinister wood.
Breathing hard, but satisfied the trees were no longer following, she examined her wrist. Blood was dripping from a long, thin gash that had begun to sting. She squeezed the cut with her other hand, and looked around, only to realize that she was now standing in a field strewn with familiar looking gravestones.
"Not the Spook Realm again!" She kicked at a headstone, expecting her foot to pass through and started in horror as her toes smacked against solid rock. The headstone toppled over and shattered. A shadowy form rose up, shrieking, from the rubble and sailed towards the forest. Carole strode quickly away.
Once out of the graveyard, she took stock of her situation. What had appeared almost bright from within the forest, turned out to be a bruised-looking sky. The air was definitely colder out in the open, but at least the putrid damp didn't extend beyond the trees.
She climbed a nearby ridge and looked over into a narrow valley that stretched towards an ever darkening horizon. Wide hollows, probably marshlands, were already shrouded in fog, but partway down the slope she could make out a winding trail. It led towards a squat, warped structure with light shining from its tiny windows. The building was less than a mile away. There were other buildings too, farther off, some with lights in their windows, others dark, but all were perched midway between the valley floor and the ridge.
She chewed on her bottom lip. Obviously she'd managed another transdimensional jump into the Spook Realm, only this time it looked as if she'd crossed all the way over. She had no idea what was normal in this world, or more importantly, what was safe. For all she knew, that building could even be some creepy crawler's home.
She didn't know how long she'd be stuck in this realm, but it was going to be dark very soon. Wouldn't she be a lot warmer spending the night indoors? She didn't think it likely that a nasty creature would live in a house, especially one with lights, and she certainly didn't want to be anywhere near that mobile forest once darkness fell. Besides, the countryside below looked almost ordinary.
A sharp sting on her foot made her look down. Misty tendrils were wrapping around her ankles. When she spun around, she saw waves of fog pouring from the forest like an incoming tide. The graveyard was already engulfed.
She poked at the mist. It felt different from just minutes ago; somehow rougher and thicker, and it seemed to stick to her skin as she pulled her finger away... No, not stick, cling.
"It's alive!" The mist was everywhere and getting deeper by the moment. She stared into the valley. The mist was everywhere except there!
She tried wading through the now knee-deep mist, but the harder she pushed the more it resisted, gripping her ankles and binding her legs. Suddenly her calves began to burn. With a yelp, she leapt on top of the mist and started gliding for her life. That was when she heard faint whistling, like a boiling tea kettle. Instinctively she knew the sound was an alarm, a warning that dinner was escaping.
By the time she was close to the edge of the hill, the whistling had grown louder and shriller and the mist beneath her feet was almost boiling hot. She gave two more quick kicks and, crouching like a skier, flew over the crest. As she did so, something caught at her head, yanking loose strands of hair.
Stealing a quick glance behind, she saw thick coils stretching after her like the arms of a giant octopus. By then she was out of reach and racing downhill at an ever increasing speed. Soon she'd left all traces of the fog behind, and had flashed past the trail. She was in danger of gliding into the mist pooled at the bottom of the slope.
Leaning back, she dug her heels into the ground. Instead of stopping, she was catapulted forward another twenty feet before landing on her belly.
"Uhh!"
High above, the hilltop swarmed with dozens of misty tendrils swirling about in an angry dance. Close to where she lay, the valley mist remained flat and still.
Wincing slightly, Carole got to her feet.
The sky was now twilight dark. Realizing she had little time left before daylight totally failed, Carole set off. The trail was easy enough to follow, if not well traveled. She had little difficulty understanding why. No one in their right mind would want to walk this countryside, day or night. Of course Professor Philamount had said that the Ghostly Spirit Realm was his specialty, but then again he wasn't exactly normal, either.
Despite her brisk pace, darkness soon overtook her. She tried not to be overly concerned, as she could still see the building's lights flickering in the distance and there hadn't been even a trace of fog along the trail. Still, when a full moon crested the horizon, she broke into a run. She didn't stop until she was leaning against the front door, gasping for breath.
The door was made of huge, roughly-hewn planks bound together by thick tongues of metal that snaked out from two enormous hinges. Overtop, a small window spilled enough light to illuminate the entranceway, but it was much too high for Carole to reach.
The building was fashioned from unfinished split-logs stacked together at odd angles, with a few crooked windows set high above the ground. Despite the crude design, everything fit perfectly together, without leaving so much as a crack to peek through. Carole circled the building twice, but found no way to see in, no way to get in.
If she wished to get out of the night, she had no choice. Taking a deep breath, she stepped up to the door and rapped her knuckles firmly against the wood.
Slapping the side of a tree would have been as effective. "Guess I don't have a choice, unless I want to sleep outdoors," she muttered as she pressed the latch and pulled on the heavy door.
* * *
- 8 -
The door swung open with a groan, revealing a narrow, dimly lit hallway, out of which wafted the pungent smell of cat pee and burnt soup.
"Achoo!" Rubbing her nose, Carole looked down to see a pair of green eyes peering up at her in the half-light...then two pair...then four pair...then six... finally more than a dozen sets of eyes.
The cats, looking rather amused, sat there staring silently. From behind them, she heard laughter and the general racket of what sounded to be a party.
Well, if whoever lives here likes cats, they can't be all that bad.
When she moved, the cats vanished back into the building. Within seconds the sounds of merriment died away. "Guess I've been announced." She brushed herself off and stepped through the doorway. "Best not keep them waiting."
Inside, the smell of cat pee was a hundred times worse, forcing her to hold her nose and blink away the tears that sprang to her eyes. She took a few seconds longer to adjust to the brighter light at the end of the corridor. When she did so, she found herself looking into a large hall, lit by dozens of sputtering candles held aloft by three round chandeliers. On the floor, seated in a semicircle and preventing her from stepping any further into the building, were the cats.
Even more impressive was the group of women standing behind them. The women, all sizes and ages, were dressed in similar clothing, black satiny fabric that sparkled in the candle light. They didn't look mean, but they didn't look exactly friendly either. And as they were obviously waiting for her to make the first move, Carole cleared her throat.
"Ahem. I wonder if you could help me?" She addressed both the cats and the women. "You see I'm sort of lost. I jumped... That is I fell from... Ah, this is rather difficult to explain." She scratched her nose while wondering if these people even knew about different dimensions. It would probably be best to leave multitasking out of her explanation if she could.
"Well the truth of the matter is, I accidentally landed on that hill about a mile back and was chased down here by a group of nasty trees and some very beastly mist, and I was sort of hoping there might be some place I could spend the night." She tried to look casual. "What with ghosts and such flying about."
As one, the cats arched their backs and growled menacingly. The women also began to whisper and grumble amongst themselves.
Carole wasn't sure if this was a good or bad sign, but at least she had their attention.
An extremely large tawny tabby, the largest of all the cats and one who looked rather like a small lion, paced towards her. She squatted to his level. This was definitely an animal she wouldn't pet without permission.
The cat let out a low throaty sound.
She was surprised to find herself understanding what it was saying. "Oh, you're a brainy cat."
As the cat continued, her smile faded. "Well it might be impossible for you, but I'm not a liar. I did escape from the Dark Wood and from The Whistler in The Mist, not more than thirty minutes ago. And for your information, it's not in the mist at all. The Whistler is the mist."
Her last statement caused another round of muttering and hissing from the two semicircles.
The lionish cat waited for the noise to die down before uttering a few more growls.
Carole snorted. "That might very well be true, but then I wouldn't know because I'm a stranger to these parts. However, perhaps it's simply a matter of courage."
The cat crouched with a snarl, flattening its ears and flicking its tail.
"Enough Brutus! Back ye to the circle," someone said in a croaky voice.
The cat turned and padded stiffly to its spot amongst the others, who were now all glowering at Carole.
Oh boy. She stood up and waited for the speaker to reveal herself. Now I've put my foot in it.
"Brave words from a young whelp who comes to disturb the coven of The Westhill Witches. Brave or foolish words." The speaker was a very old-looking crone, with skin as dry and wrinkly as her voice was harsh and raspy.
"I'm very sorry to have interrupted your party, and I don't mean to be brave or foolish, but that cat of yours..."
"Oftimes Brutus does thinks a little too high of his self," the witch agreed, "but it rubs his fur wrongly that a scrawny imp, such as ye, claims to have done a thing which he, nor his four-footed friends got no guts fer."
"Well if I had been given the choice, I wouldn't have done it either. "
"So ye say. But 'tis
no easy thing to escape either The Wood nor The Whistler, yet ye claim to have done both, and on this very same eve."
"Just barely, and probably only because they were as surprised at my appearance as I was at theirs."
"Truth in that, perhaps." The old woman nodded, and continued with a sterner tone, "but ye say ye fell. Was it from yer broom!?"
Witches and cats began to snicker.
"I don't own a broom."
The old crone bristled with suspicion. "What kind of witch be ye without a broom?"
"I'm not a witch at all," Carole said, "and I didn't fall from the sky. I fell from a different dimension."
Jaws fell open.
"Multitasker?" The witch shrieked, and pointed a crooked finger at Carole's chest. "Claim ye to be a Multitasker, then?"
"I don't claim to be anything, but I know a man--Professor Philamount--who claims to be one."
"Melodious T. Philamount?"
"Why yes. You know him?"
"Know him?! He be the old fraud who stands us up this night past, causing a good batch of brew to go to ruination. Smell ye not the stink?"
"So, Mr. Philamount is a good friend of the Westhill Witches?"
"Till this night past!"
"I don't think it was entirely his fault. He said he was visiting with some friends in the Nightshade Realm before our two dimensions collided."
"'Tis so? A dimensional overlay? And which dimension be ye from, then?"
Carole cleared her throat. "I... Um...happened to be in the Monobrain Universe."
"What! Ye be a cursed monobrainer? Ye and yer kin be the cause of all the problems such as we've got--near nine years of pesky werewolf problems. We Westhillers shall cast such a spell as to make ye wish The Whistler had gotten hold of yer bones!"
Without giving Carole a chance to reply, the witch began to wave her arms and to chant under her breath. The rest of the witches joined in, adding volume to the chant, their bodies swaying to the rhythm. Next the cats arched their backs and began walking stiff-legged about the room, growling in time with the chanting.
The Lost Witch Page 4