by Phil Stern
But she had to choose very soon. The Coven couldn’t just keep a large force on Earth, skirmishing endlessly. That would surely create additional casualties, possibly even allowing the ruby witches to escape Zarth entirely.
And this was a decision that Eleanor absolutely, positively, had to get right. Because for the first time Tiffany could remember, the long-time Coven Leader’s judgement was openly coming under fire.
In truth, the pressure on Eleanor had been building since Lord Gensrow first appeared. For in any honest analysis, her response to the attacks two years before had been tepid and ineffective. Three girls had disappeared before she’d even realized there was a problem. Then, clearly at a loss for what else to do, Eleanor had tentatively sent six younger operatives, including Tiffany, out on some grand wizard scavenger hunt. That had resulted in April’s death, along with the severe wounding of Zandra and Marissa. It had only been a stroke of good fortune that Tiffany had finally found and defeated the mad wizard on her own.
In essence, Eleanor had lucked out. Clearly, this hadn’t escaped the notice of Barbara and the rest of the Council, not to mention the layer of senior witches below them.
Then, just when things seemed to settle down again, along comes the Zarth coven. First wizards, and now ruby witches? Coven-mates once more attacked and captured? Until two years before, such things were unthinkable. While putting on a brave face, these older women were clearly scared out of their minds.
Oh, Barbara wanted to fight when they had no idea where to even go. But now that they knew the full extent of the danger? The Council would firmly oppose any invasion of Zarth, especially when the far safer option of closing the direct contact points was available. After all, a major defeat in Earth’s parallel dimension could even result in a counterstrike on Haven itself. What was the life of two girls compared to an existential threat to the entire Coven?
So could the Coven Leader muster enough support to invade Zarth in search of Tiffany and Hazel? Maybe. It might be close.
But here was an even better question. Would Eleanor, ever the pragmatist, even try?
The simple fact was that Tiffany had become a divisive presence within Haven society. Paradoxically, her signature victory had brought both great adulation and deep resentment. Obviously, many of her older sisters could never forgive her success in stopping Gensrow. Though full of swagger and bravado, the senior crowd knew they could never have beaten the mad wizard.
Without question, Tiffany’s star burned brighter. Overnight she’d become the very image of the modern, decisive sorceress, dragging a stagnant Coven into a vibrant, frightening future.
But that wasn’t even the worst of it! Did you hear that Tiffany Smith actually had a boyfriend? What perversion! Back in the day, such things weren’t allowed! By the stone, what were these young girls thinking? Such independence was a dangerous thing.
Eleanor didn’t like it either, as she’d so recently made clear. In fact, her insidious emotional manipulation had actually worked! Tiffany had promptly dismissed a wonderful man from her life, all for the crime of not immediately believing impossible things! That was something she’d have to rectify. That is, if she ever saw Blake again.
Frustrated, Tiffany sat down at a small table along the bulkhead, irritably sweeping more maps onto the floor. Then, staring out at the huge propellor unevenly whirling away just outside the window, she came to the obvious conclusion.
The Coven wouldn’t come looking for her. Their whole way of life was threatened, both from external and internal forces alike. Ending the Zarth menace, and perhaps Tiffany along with it, would solve a host of problems at a single stroke. To the older generation her passing would even hasten the sense that everything was “normal” once again.
True, the Coven Leader had great respect for Tiffany. But it stopped short of any deeper, permanent attachment. No doubt her loss would be regrettable, just like April’s death two years ago. Many of the younger girls would even genuinely mourn her passing. Yet in the end, everyone would move on.
So when it was all said and done, Tiffany was utterly expendable. Just as she’d eventually become to both her father and mother, and her long lost sister now.
Yes, it was very clear. No one was coming to save her. As long as she remained in Zarth, Tiffany was entirely on her own.
*****
Left alone for the entire trip, Tiffany watched through the front windows as the great airship finally settled down near a large, one-story building. Situated within rocky, flat terrain, wide swaths of lifeless, open space surrounded the unassuming structure. A hundred yards behind the building the ground fell away entirely into a deep chasm. Absently, the Haven sorceress remembered Claire having mentioned their Coven Leader owned a quarry.
“Get up.” Suddenly appearing in the doorway leading back into the rest of the passenger area, Valensa eyed her with disdain. “It’s time to go.”
“I see that,” Tiffany cheerily replied, casually walking towards her sister. Whatever else, she wouldn’t let her enemies sense any desperation. “After all, I would assume you have better uses for this craft than simply jailing me.”
Valensa’s ruby stone pulsed briefly. Without warning, Tiffany found herself roughly knocked to the floor.
“There are rules here.” Arms now crossed, the ruby sorceress glared down at her. “Never approach within ten feet of your senior unless first receiving permission.”
At this mild abuse, the Coven Stick sourly extended its sensitivity to the immediate area. Utilizing what little control she had, Tiffany firmly reinforced the image of a calm, unthreatening belt. “So you guys don’t trust your own Coven-mates not to snatch away your stone? That’s…odd.”
“Just listen and learn!” Valensa snapped, advancing a step. “You do what you’re told, and you don’t question orders. Ever!”
“Really?” Slowly rising again, Tiffany brushed dirt from her palms. “You make it sound like I’m a slave.”
“Well, this is the Confederacy.” With obvious satisfaction, Valensa smiled. “You figure it out.”
“Oh, I’ve already figured a lot out.” Now Tiffany let out a great sigh, as if completely bored with it all. “Starting with the fact that you’re probably the most junior witch in your entire coven. Or maybe some kind of mongrel, with no hope of ever achieving first-class status? After all, sis, you’re not a Zarth native.”
“First of all, I’m not your sis!” Glaring at her, their identical-looking eyes on the exact same level, Valensa was obviously fighting to maintain control. “And second of all, the inner workings of our coven are none of your business!”
“Well, I’ll just have to work all that out with your Coven Leader.” Unintimidated, Tiffany again approached her, stopping two feet away. “After all, that’s why I’m here, isn’t it? To talk directly with her?”
“I’m just following orders.”
“I’ll bet you don’t have access to her yourself.” Bemused, Tiffany slowly nodded. “Actually, I imagine your Leader has some rule about a mutt like you getting within a hundred feet! Am I right? Sis!”
“I really hate you!” Eyes now flashing ruby fire, Valensa seethed with fury.
“Don’t worry.” Striding past the younger girl into the doorway, Tiffany stopped and looked back. “I’ll put in a good word for you.”
Then, without waiting for permission, she just walked out of the cabin entirely, Valensa hurriedly following.
Her other four captors were waiting on the ground outside the craft, including the fat, older woman from before. Forming a phalanx around Tiffany, they all strode over the hard, unyielding terrain to the front of the building. Hopefully, Tiffany thought, one of the guards retained possession of her earth stone, though utilizing the Coven Stick just then to find out would be unwise.
Three more witches exited the structure’s front door, warily watching Tiffany’s party approach. As they neared, the Haven sorceress noticed that one of them had a large bandage over an entire side of her
face.
“You bitch!” Racing forward, the injured girl was blocked by Tiffany’s guards. “Your hawk took out my eye!” Cursing and manically lunging over her Coven-mate’s shoulders, the disfigured witch was nearly out of control.
It was the fourth girl from the group she’d fought in Mobile, Tiffany now realized, the one attacked by the battle hawk before racing into the woods. Stopping in her tracks, she feigned complete disinterest. “So what?”
“So what!” In her fury, the Zarth girl actually pounded the arms of the women restraining her. “I’ll kill you, that’s what!”
“Oh no, I get her first.” One of the ruby witches to Tiffany’s rear now spoke up. “Sharra was my friend.”
“And Herra was mine,” added the other redhead. “You have a lot to answer for.”
“Herra, you say?” Deliberately, Tiffany let out a bored sigh. “Was that the one who had her throat ripped out by my dog? Rather sloppy of her, don’t you think?”
“It was your dog!” the bandaged girl shrieked. “And your hawks! You’re responsible!”
So just like Valensa, the wounded Zarth girl still didn’t realize the dog and laser rifle were actually manifestations of a magical weapon. Clearly, no one would ever accuse the ruby coven of excessive analytical ability.
“Well, we like our dogs, and hawks, and unicorns,” Tiffany drawled before pausing to inspect a nail. “But I’m glad they don’t like you.”
“Bitch!” Now one of the guard’s from behind gave her a hard shove in the back. “You’re all perverts and freaks!”
“Yeah, well, look who’s talking.” First sweetly looking over her shoulder, Tiffany then frowned. “Though you all do seem a bit tense. Are those ruby stones making you a bit edgy?”
“Enough talk!” Rearing back, one of the guards in front now punched Tiffany’s antagonist from Mobile right in the jaw. The bandaged girl flopped down on the flat, stony ground, instantly unconscious. “Get inside, now!”
Again shoved from behind, Tiffany was led up to the front entrance and through the doors.
Immediately inside was a long, wide room, with tables and chairs scattered about. It looked like a combination cafeteria/workspace, suitable for a hundred people or so. On the walls hung the stuffed heads of exotic, alien animals, interspersed with ancient weapons and even more faded maps. Old-style, royal-type flags were unfurled from the ceiling. Near the front of the auditorium was a suit of armor.
And staring at her in bitter, insolent anger were about fifty ruby witches. Most were thin, wiry girls, many with choppy, short hair styles. There were a few marginally more sophisticated types at the fringes of the group, but it seemed like the majority of the ruby ranks were filled with what Tiffany took to be Zarth foot soldiers.
In the dead silence that followed her appearance, Tiffany made a great show of studying the decor. “Wow, I didn’t know it was Renaissance Weekend!” she cheerfully announced. “I love what you guys have done with the place!”
Two girls immediately advanced on her with clenched fists, shrieking obscenities. In the near riot that followed, Tiffany was somehow hustled to the front of the auditorium, then promptly shoved through a small door into a narrow hallway beyond. Only the leader of Tiffany’s personal guard accompanied her, slamming the door behind them with a curse.
“Well, that was something.” Politely standing several feet back down the hallway, Tiffany smiled. “Quite the group of girls you have here. Very sociable.”
“You won’t be laughing very long, bitch!” Straightening up, the older woman advanced on her. “Turn around and keep going!”
Assuming this last guard had her earth stone, Tiffany gave some thought to simply taking her chances on a fight here, in the narrow hallway. But the ruby witch took the precaution of forming a wall of power before her, nearly burning Tiffany’s skin. The Haven sorceress had no choice but to precede her deeper into the ruby compound, where she was soon confronted by another plain door.
“Go on,” the Zarth witch grumbled, angrily indicating the knob. Carefully twisting it, the tall brunette pushed the door open and entered the extended, rustic office beyond.
Faded carpet covered the whole area, with two bleak couches arranged around a small coffee table in the middle. Horizontal windows covered the long exterior side wall to the right, with half-full bookcases sporadically covering the wall space to the left. No doubt this marked the room’s occupant as some type of Zarth intellectual. At the far end of the long, rectangular space was a sturdy desk before yet another large window, showcasing the granite plain behind the building. Additional, dreary decorations in the same vein as the larger auditorium were haphazardly scattered about.
Without waiting to be told, Tiffany slowly crossed the room to the desk, behind which sat a dark-haired woman, facing the other way. As if unaware of Tiffany’s presence, she placidly stared out the back window, seemingly studying the building’s rocky exterior. From ground level, the sudden precipice and drop down into the deep gorge a hundred yards away was barely visible.
“Tiffany. I’m glad you’re here,” the woman quietly announced, her back still to her two guests. Suddenly disquieted, Tiffany thought she recognized the voice.
Sure enough, the chair slowly spun about to reveal Claire, the ruby witch she’d interviewed in Rasten. Still with her delicate, Earth-style glasses and designer clothes, she stuck out here like a sore thumb.
“Claire!” Slowly, Tiffany shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“What’s to understand?” Bemused, Claire elegantly indicated the smaller seat opposite the desk. “I’m Coven Leader here. You are my prisoner. If you’re lucky, I may allow you to live. Seems simple enough to me.”
As Tiffany slowly sank down into the chair, the guard distastefully deposited a rolled up towel on Claire’s desk. Without another word, the lumbering woman then turned and once more traversed the office, exiting and closing the far door behind her. Tiffany and Claire were completely alone.
“So here we are,” Claire began. Thoughtfully unwrapping the towel, Tiffany’s earth stone, still its silver setting, tumbled onto the desk’s surface. “What do you call these things again?”
“Earth stones,” Tiffany tightly replied. Every fiber of her being screamed to lunge over and grab her magical power source, but she knew that would be a mistake. “I’ve worn that one since I was nine years old.”
“A pity, then, that you may never wear it again.” Sadly, Claire pulled the stone back so that it sat at her right elbow. “This all must be very frustrating for you.”
Uneasily shifting in her chair, Tiffany decided it was best not to let herself be baited. “How are you even here? Last I saw, you were safely tucked away in Rasten.”
“Yes, well, I became bored there.” Belying her light-hearted tone, Claire intently studied her prisoner. “So last night I just left.”
“Did Pam or Rayna have anything to say about that?” Tiffany asked, thinking of two of the Coven-mates she’d left in Rasten.
“Well, your ‘Duchess’ is dead. The poor woman had a heart attack when I threw her against a stone pillar.” Smiling thinly, the ruby leader gave an elegant shrug. “Rayna’s a tough girl. I think she’ll live, though I’m not sure if she’ll ever have full use again of the arm I smashed.”
Forcing herself to remain calm, Tiffany idly reached down to loosen her belt buckle. Still completely inert, the Coven Stick didn’t object.
“And there’s a big hole in your pretty castle wall,” Claire nonchalantly continued. “Of course, I had to kill a few of those ridiculous knights on the way out, which excited those cat creatures no end! Last I saw they were battling a bunch of unicorns. They were getting the worst of it, you’d be happy to know. Though I did see at least one dead unicorn. Maybe two. It was very sad.”
“So you were never a turncoat.” Pushing against her chair, Tiffany tried to focus on the hard, unyielding pressure against her back. “You were just gathering intelligence on us by pretendin
g to be a traitor to your Coven.”
“I knew you were the smart one in that group!” Primly nodding, Claire gently grazed Tiffany’s earth stone with her pinkie. “Maybe you’ll be smart enough to help me access the power in this stone.”
“Maybe you can go fuck yourself.” Whoever designed this Coven Stick, Tiffany thought, sure knew what they were doing. The mental pathways she’d torturously discovered back on the airship were closed off again. But if she just…
“Look, you’re in a tight spot here,” the ruby leader observed. “No one is coming for you. Even now your Coven is busily trying to find and close off all the direct contact points between Earth and Zarth.”
Tiffany grimly dismissed a wave of anger. Whatever else, she wouldn’t let the ruby leader manipulate her so easily. “So I’d assumed.”
“But they can never lock us away in Zarth.” Pausing for effect, Claire solemnly shook her head. “There are too many contact points to close. Plus, even if they did find them all, there are direct contact points from Zarth to other parallel dimensions, a few of which access the Boundary. So they’re wasting their time.”
“Really?” Tiffany said. “In Rasten, you indicated that you could only escape Zarth through Earth.”
“I lied,” Claire admitted. “But make no mistake. Earth is by far the most accessible, and convenient, way out of Zarth. It’s crucial to our plans.”
“All right.” Crossing her arms, Tiffany’s breathing remained even. “So what’s the point of all this?”
“The point, of course, is that your Coven has abandoned you.” There was no triumph in Claire’s voice, just a simple statement of fact. “You, and that other girl we captured, have been written off. Tiffany Smith, their best operative by far. The slayer of Lord Gensrow. The one who killed my Deputy Coven Leader and destroyed the midate we were seeking.”
Tiffany deliberately ignored the reference to Sharra. “We don’t know if Gensrow is dead.”
“Well, close enough.” Leaning forward, Claire’s stone gave a brief, ruby glow. “How does that feel, Tiffany? To be cast aside like a piece of garbage? After all you’ve done for them?”