Jigsaw World

by JD Lovil

  They all knew that they were getting to the beginning of the repair of this worldline. The anticipation of the impending task, coupled with the very strong effects of the four artifacts, even while being held in a vault that the Sorcerer assured the group was blunting the artifact’s effect considerably, was making the group very excited, very antsy. There comes a time in any lengthy task when one just wishes that it would be over. That was the place they were at.

  It was around ten in the morning now, and they were considering whether to get out of the sunny morning, into the dark and comforting walls of the house. In the final stages of decision, it happened. First came the wind.

  A sudden increase in the wind speed is not an unusual event. When it seems to be tied to something else, it starts to become a little strange. On the wind, the four of them could hear the mournful sounds of some sort of bagpipe being played, a sound that seemed to have no source. It simply was.

  In front of them, along the West Wing, a cloud formed. It was an odd cloud, seeming to be constrained inside some sort of invisible tube about ten feet or so across. It was from the midst of the cloud that the sound of bagpipes seemed to be coming, and now they could hear the steady clop-clop-clop sound that one ordinarily attributes to the sound of a horse walking. In a moment they discovered that it was indeed a horse.

  The cloud swirled at the open end of the tube nearest the group, and then from the clouds emerged a horse, upon which two riders could be seen. One was the long lost Veritasia, who sat behind the stranger. He was a man of dark features, somewhat gypsy-like in appearance, and he played a strange bagpipe instrument as the horse plodded along.

  Veritasia slid off the back of the horse, and leaped into the midst of the group, dispensing hugs indiscriminately to all. She did look slightly confused as she hugged Karla, whom she had never met. Tom could tell from the way she rode in with the stranger, and the amount of touching that was displayed, that Veritasia had moved on from their relationship, so he went ahead and introduced Karla to Veritasia, letting her know both who she was and that they were a couple in one fell swoop.

  She introduced her companion as Arpad, and told the group that she had met him in a cave, having been introduced to him by a very odd man only known as the Seer. To hear her tell it, the Seer was one of the most irreverent, funny old men that she had ever known. And this cave of his was an awe inspiring mystery.

  She had been sent to the Seer by the Sage, and literally had no idea of exactly how she arrived there. Her first memory of the process involved looking about her and seeing that this was a place like no other that she had ever seen. The first door she had opened (of which there were thousands) had shown her a landscape in daylight (It was dark outside the cave) in which huge creatures grazed, creatures that looked identical to the dinosaurs worshipped by children and paleontologists alike. She had closed it quickly.

  The Seer had started training her in something he called shadow walking, which involved taking a walk and changing the world around them as they walked. At first, he had been the instrument of those changes, and she had been terrified by the mutability of the world around them. How could she not be lost in such a place, if ever she was to lose track of the Seer.

  Only a few days in, the Seer had introduced her to Arpad, whom he had charged with training her in such ‘mundane’ activities as shadow walking. This he had said with a deadpan face and voice as he reached his arms into someplace that did not exist, and extracted a hot pizza for the three of them to eat. From that day on, Arpad had provided the instruction and guidance, and the Seer only served to confuse her and give her a headache.

  Arpad had proven to be an excellent instructor, patiently telling her point by point what to think, to feel, to do, to make the world around them begin to change. The day that the change she sought, a blue flower growing in a crevice between two rocks, actually was there where she had willed it to be, she was excited, and happy and even proud of herself. After that, her learning curve had sharpened.

  The Seer had told her many things about the working of reality that seemed obvious after he had mentioned them, but for some reason she had never considered. He had shown her many places that were strange, some that could not have existed anywhere on the earth as she had ever known it.

  He had taken her through one door and had shown her a great flat place, which may have been a huge pane of glass, and above it was another plate such as the one that served as the ground. On the ground was a large geometric pattern of intricate loops and swirls laid out in silver that seemed liquid. One could not see the pattern without seeing motion, although one never actually saw anything move. The Seer told her that this was the place of a great battle, which saved millions of alternate earths from oblivion.

  Arpad had done nothing so grandiose in her training. He had simply taken her out, day after day, to ride the horses through changing landscapes to ‘places in shadow’. Sometimes he made her do the changing of the world around them; just giving her some descriptions of the places he wanted her to take them.

  They had ridden to several different places, visiting the place that a man named Rafe lived with two trainees of his and an old wolf. They visited the place that another friend had come from, and they visited the place called Nergalgard, which was basically a twenty-four hour a day party house. They had met the one handed Tyr, and had met a guy named Heimdall, a man that was whiter than an albino, with eyes that could see everything, a man who was nearly as wide as he was tall, and was all muscle.

  Heimdall was a mystery to everyone, even Tyr, who had been around him forever. Both of them were considered by most to be gods, but nobody knew Heimdall’s history, not even him. There were many stories about where he came from, but he had been unchanged for more than five thousand years. That was when he had appeared in the Halls of Asgard, bereft of memory. A Huge being known as the Guardian of Order had referred to him as ‘The Guardian of the North’, and suggested that he knew of his origins, but he didn’t explain.

  She said that Arpad had been living in Nergalgard the last few decades. He was from an alternate world where the Magyars still roamed their lands, and he had discovered the ability to shadow walk after he had been wounded in a battle, and was riding just ahead of people who wanted to put his head on a spike. He had felt as though he was about to pass out, but instead, the world around him suddenly changed, and the pursuers were no longer behind him.

  Tom suggested that they would be better off to settle down at the table and continue this conversation, shutting the gate so that the horse could graze the courtyard, and setting up the umbrella and the misters so that they would be cool and shaded while they conversed. To say it was to do it.

  “The Seer said that you would need us soon.” Arpad said. “Heimdall has promised to come also. He will be here today or tomorrow.”

  Tom mused that the crowd was going to get pretty big. Already the crowd included Karla, himself, Markus, Vera, Veritasia, Arpad, the Herald and the Sorcerer. Soon, they would include Heimdall, Tyr, the Sage and Cernunnos. Definitely enough for a pizza dinner.

  The Herald came out and greeted Arpad as though he knew him. He explained that he had met him in ‘The Battle of Order and Chaos’. Arpad had been a member of the first circle, whatever that meant, while the Herald had been in the third circle with his master. Veritasia chimed in that she had seen the battlefield he was speaking of, and she looked at Arpad with even more respect. Tom concluded that she had definitely moved on.

  The Herald remarked that the Sorcerer needed to get to a particular store that day, and he had graciously volunteered the group’s assistance and the use of their RV to get there. Tom wondered why the Sorcerer needed to go anywhere with the powers he had, and he also felt like he should be mad at the Herald for his presumption, but a trip outside sounded pretty good right then. What the hell.

  They accepted the job of shepherding the Sorcerer to where he needed to go. They all got up and started the slow walk to the RV when the Sorcere
r emerged from the building, looking eager to shop. In short order, they were jostling back down the road toward the more commercial part of town.

  They pulled up to the front of a house, converted into a storefront. It was a combination magic shop and coffee shop, with a decent library of occult books for sale or loan as well. It was run by a petite lady of indeterminate age named Silvia.

  “I am looking for an amulet of Thoron, and maybe a hand of glory, if the price is right.” The Sorcerer said. “A good supply of Herbs would be useful, too. Mostly cleansing ones, like sage, or essentials, like rosemary or lavender.”

  “I can get you the rosemary, lavender, sage and the amulet.” Silvia replied. “The hand will be expensive, because you will have to buy out another person who wants it.”

  “Money is no object.” The Sorcerer boasted. “My friend will pay.” He gestured at Tom.

  Tom was about to object, and then he considered that he still had better than twenty thousand Walmart dollars languishing in a bag in the back of the RV. He might as well use a couple hundred on whatever this trip was about. Looking about at his companions, he could tell that they were all agreed on this. All but Veritasia and Arpad, who had apparently taken the opportunity to slip back into the RV for a little bed athletics. He could just make out the slight movement of the vehicle body up and down on its axles in that ancient rhythm. Yep, she was definitely over him.

  Just to remind him that he wasn’t losing anything, Tom took the opportunity to wrap his arm around Karla, and squeeze her up close. Silvia went back behind the bead curtain for a moment to retrieve the items that the Sorcerer wanted. While she was gone, Tom meandered out to the RV to grab a handful of cash to pay the herbal tab. In a couple of minutes he had returned to the shop, where Silvia had also re-emerged from the back of the store with the merchandise.

  The Sorcerer took a moment to examine the goods, and then he gave his critique. “The amulet is good. We will take all of the herbs you brought out.” He said. “The hand of glory is a dud. It is not from the hand of a murderer. His has more power.” He pointed at Tom.

  Tom wasn’t sure what the proper social protocol was in this sort of circumstance. Should he act menacing and dangerous, or should he assume a pained gentlemanly demeanor? He could fake either one, but best to just dismiss it. “Fuck off.” He said.

  Tom and Karla took a few moments to browse the shop. It really had some fine occult books, including five different books that titled themselves as ‘The Necronomicon’, several bins of herbs and things like mandrake root (is that considered an herb?), Spirit catchers, dream catchers, Ouija boards, tarot cards, an odd assortment of athames, wands, staffs, candles, and an old newspaper in the corner that was dated six years ago, and probably wasn’t for sale.

  There was also a row of more massive objects on a couple of shelves. Things like crystal scrying globes, casks made out of various exotic woods intended to contain powerful things, and a number of lead crystal and pewter figures of various mythological and fantasy creatures and figures. On the wall hung a picture of what was possibly the ugliest woman that had ever lived. Silvia’s mother, perhaps?

  After a while, the Sorcerer wrapped up his business in the magic Shoppe, and they all strolled back out to the RV. Looking about them, they all spontaneously decided that they were not quite ready to go to the compound yet, and there was an interesting looking bar/coffee shop/indoor/outdoor place next door where they could get coffee or food, they could smoke or they could play volleyball. There was even a pool table under an outdoor shed roof. Almost wordlessly, they all agreed to go to check it out.

  Fifteen minutes passed, and they were all clustered around the outdoor pool table with coffees, playing a round robin pool game. Tom had to take some tricky shots, because the rules of the game was that you would shoot until you missed, then hand off to the next in line. With straight pool, he could have run the table every time, so he compromised by only shooting triple and quadruple bank shots and calling each shot.

  It turned out that Markus and Karla were decent shots, and Vera was a novice. Oddly enough, the Sorcerer was pretty awful at the game, pretty much never getting more than one shot in the pocket before missing. If Tom had known that going in, he would have tried to con him into betting on the games before tipping his hand, so that he could recoup some of the Walmart money the old buzzard had spent.

  They played several such games, and then Karla and Vera spent a half hour or so batting the ball back and forth over the net in the sandy court, and they thought they were playing volleyball. Maybe they were, but it looked more like they were desperately trying to slap a round bat or flying rodent out of the air.

  Finally, Tom and the Sorcerer were sitting at the table, sipping coffee and enjoying the outing. It was time to get some answers. Tom leaned over to the Sorcerer. “So, where are you from?” He asked.

  “Earth.” The Sorcerer said. “Just not this Earth. The place I grew up was a place of gossamer roads and predator trees, a place where the ocean was in the sky, and where incorporeal beings inhabited the land along with the various hominid beings. Once there was war between the corporeal and the incorporeal, but it was set aside when dark demonic gods invaded our world.”

  “So which one are you?” Tom asked. “Are you a Corporeal or an Incorporeal? That shadow thing you do could be argued about either way.”

  “I am kind of a special case.” The Sorcerer said. “I was trained under one of the greatest living Incorporeals, and was later trained by one of the greatest of the trans-dimensional Sorcerers. I started out as a Corporeal. Almost human, I think.”

  “I am about to dispense one of my rare compliments to you.” Tom remarked. “While I must admit that you are a real asshole, the Herald is far more of an asshole than you are. I guess being a Sorcerer from a weird-ass world makes better personalities than being a lapdog for a horny demigod.”

  The Sorcerer emitted a sudden chuckle, followed by a continuous laughter for about a minute. When he had finally calmed down, he made the mistake of looking at Tom, and the laughter began again.

  ******

  20 Thunderbirds and Dragons

  Somewhere down the hallway, a telephone rang. The ringtone was so disconcerting that it took a second or two for Tom to place it. He hadn’t heard the ringing of a landline since his sojourn on Susan’s couch. In a moment it cut out, and he heard the murmur of the Herald’s voice in the distance as he answered the call.

  Tom was busy nibbling on a bit of Karla’s anatomy that he particularly liked when the Herald stuck his head in the door. Despite the rather ominous look of annoyance that Tom wore on his face for being disturbed in this fashion, the Herald told him that Charlie had called, and requested that the group meet him in a small town called Provo, where there was an apparent problem with dragons.

  Since Karla had been disturbed out of the sort of drowsy half-awake state that they both liked so much, Tom reluctantly rose and resumed the sort of clothing that would not get double takes by the sort of spectators which should be forbidden in a bedroom belonging to the duo of Tom and Karla. Soon enough, the two of them were clothed, and they sallied forth to find the others.

  They joined the rest of the group around the breakfast table, where the coffee flowed like, well, coffee, and the biscuits, gravy, bacon and scrambled eggs diverted their attentions for several minutes. Once their bodies were satisfied with the quantity of food that was inside them, they got to the business at hand.

  “As I was saying” The Herald continued. “Charlie called to ask that you meet him in Provo to help him with a little dragon problem they have down there.”

  “Do I look like a dragon slayer?” Tom asked. “Can we just call for an exterminator?”

  “You don’t have to go, but it is something that is in line with the nature of the task you signed up for. Think of it as one of the ‘pre-tasks’ that you need to complete, in order to prepare yourself for the main task later.”

  The group exchanges glan
ces amongst themselves, which might best be described as the ‘Is he shitting me?’ looks, but Arpad put it into words. “I know this crap doesn’t look like it has anything to do with anything, but there are associations of actions and objects in a working that make no causal type of sense, but are necessary to success.” He said. “Take for instance, the need for a spirit quest, or the need to walk to where you will complete a task, rather than simply being teleported there by one of the adepts.”

  Even though this statement of Arpad’s raised far more questions than it answered, the group was reluctantly willing to concede the point. A semi-civilized discussion of the details of the dragon infestation ensued, with much interrogation of the Herald for details as yet unrevealed. When the Sorcerer shadowed into a chair at the table, he proved to be a better source of information than the Herald. He stood up in front of the group in standard lecture mode, when it became obvious that he would be pumped for information before being allowed to enjoy the food.

  He indicated that the dragons of ancient times had evolved along the pterodactyl format, a serpentine body with oversized bat wings, and at some point in the past; they had developed an ability to exhale fire, in the form of an ignited methane and propane mixture. Only a few of each generation of the dragons were able to breathe fire. The rest had to depend on their excessively long teeth, their almost impenetrable scales, and their generally vicious attitude.

  The Sorcerer grinned and made an odd gesture which none of the group could follow, because some of his motions seemed to be in some other place where they could not see. It was quite odd to be standing directly in front of him, watching his hands move and sometimes disappear while looking directly at them. When he finished his movements, he was standing in front of a pile of stuff which had mysteriously appeared while nobody noticed. Nobody was sure how it appeared right in front of them without them being aware.