by Joshua Cook
Marcus, however, clung to his prejudice. What made it all the more galling to Cendan was that the refusal to accept what they did as magic, or even the far greater things they could do, was all borne of a fringe belief of a small faction of Bridgefinders long ago. Somehow the idea had taken over, though, and the Bridgefinders had turned their backs on a large amount of their power.
“Why do you ask? Still looking for proof of your magic idea?” Marcus asked in return, his voice low and tired.
“No, just something that occurred to me when I closed Oakhearts journal. I heard the echo of the book slamming closed, and it just occurred to me...” Cendan trailed off.
“The answer is, we don’t know. Or least I don’t know. The question has been asked before, more than once. I will say that we’ve only had evidence of one echo that connects to our world. If there are others, they don’t seem to connect to our world; at least directly.”
Suddenly Marcus stood and walked toward Cendan. His face, always sharp edged, looked haggard now, drawn. “Your books in the Maker wing may have more information.”
Marcus stopped in front of Cendan and spoke. “What I’m more interested in is why there hasn’t been a single bridge formed in the last two weeks. Nothing. Not even the rare outlier. It’s as if there isn’t a single connection between the worlds, though we know there still are – the map says so. But the Slyph hasn’t tried. Even once. Why?”
Cendan shrugged. In truth, he wondered why as well. EVA has told him that she hadn’t had to even try to stop anything, and for the last two weeks she’d been strengthening the barrier twenty-four hours a day with no interference from the other side. She seemed pretty damn happy about it as much as a clockwork contraption could be.
“I don’t know. Is that really a problem though? Maybe she’s trying to figure out what to do next. Maybe she’s hurt or injured. Or maybe she’s given up. Who cares? All that really matters is that she’s not attacking us, right?” Cendan sat down in a chair covered with golden leaves. “Let’s just enjoy the peace while it lasts.”
A snort was Marcus’s only reply at first. Shoulders hunched, Marcus stalked toward the door to leave the barrier room.
“Peace? Cendan, there is no peace, ever. One way or another this is all going to have to end.” Marcus paused and turned toward Cendan, his eyes sunken and his voice even more worn than normal. “You don’t get it do you? At first, when you brought that machine back online, the one in your head, I was happy. Ecstatic even. For the first time in an unknown number of years, we were going to be gaining ground. Or so I thought. But Sal died. You lived. That got me thinking. What would happen if you died? Would EVA keep working? Would it stop all over again? There are now just three of us left, Cendan. Three.”
Cendan didn’t have an answer for him. Truthfully he’d never considered it, what would happen if he died? Before he could ask EVA, Marcus continued speaking.
“Cendan, Jasmine and I are the last of the born and raised Bridgefinders. We are it. You, while a Maker, didn’t grow up in this. You didn’t have it drilled into you day in and day out just how hard this fight is. Sal didn’t either. It’s one reason he’s dead. I should have made sure he understood that losing even one of us is far too many.”
“And you… Cendan, you don’t understand any of it. You mock our traditions, push us to things that are out of bounds, want us to believe in things that can’t be true. Magic? Other worlds besides the Slyph’s? You treat this like a game. This is for the very damn survival of the species, and all you can think of is hypothetical nonsense!” Marcus spat the last words at Cendan, leaving him surprised at the venom behind them.
“You brought us a reprieve, Cendan, but I wish beyond measure that you hadn’t come to the Red Orchid that day. That Grellnot hadn’t found you when he did. I wish you’d never become one of us. I thought having a Maker would fix so many problems, but all it’s done is give us a breather at the cost of what it means to be a Bridgefinder.” Grimacing, Marcus paused, his mouth snapping shut and his eyes shooting a look of hate that surprised Cendan to the core.
The door to the Barrier room slammed behind him as Marcus left, leaving Cendan to stare at the board himself and wonder what was coming next.
Chapter 2
Jasmine was happy though still somewhat in pain. Her fingers rubbed her scalp, feeling the short sharp hairs starting to grow, even as she avoided touching the healing blisters at her hairline. She knew she looked somewhat terrifying still to people though. Normal people that is. Her running excuse of a car accident that she used when pressed on what happened seemed to mollify the curious though.
Grocery buying wasn’t the most glamorous part of being a Bridgefinder. Really, though, they had to eat. She mentally checked off her list, trying hard not to think about the items missing, the one's Sal would have wanted. Sal. Earnest and friendly, and truly out of his league on things. Sal had never been powerful in skill. In the past he’d never have been a Bridgefinder, but these days they took anyone who had the ability.
A deep sigh escaped her as Jasmine thought about the newest member, Cendan. In her heart, she still had trouble putting him in as a Bridgefinder. And not just any Bridgefinder, but a Maker. The first Maker in over a thousand years, and he had to be an ex. An ex that she couldn’t even begin to make sense of. Still attractive, but hard headed. Talented and an amazing mind, but still not really plugged in emotionally. There had been some movement in that direction though; he’d grown some.
Jasmine was still ruminating about the state of her relationship with Cendan when her cart banged against another shopper’s.
“Oh sorry! Wasn’t looking where I was going,” she called out before locking eyes with the other shopper. It was a young woman, attractive enough looking, except for her hair which was red with a long streak of blue. The eyes, though, locked onto her and she couldn’t move.
Goosebumped arms and the tingle down her spine at first confused her, but then with growing awareness she knew. This woman had the power. She was one of those outsiders that she had long been warned of.
Bridgefinders had long been aware of those few humans who could see and understand the Bridges between this world and the echo. The few who could do so, but yet weren’t Bridgefinders, and in fact would deal with the creatures of the Slyph in return for power and knowledge. Officially they were thought of as almost misguided children. Marcus found them disgusting, but Marcus was full of prejudice these days.
Jasmine found herself unable to speak, and a weak croak was all she could manage as she tried to say something. Eyes narrowing, the other woman gave a small nod, and left, pushing her cart away slowly. Jasmine tried to follow but was stuck to the spot, her legs also not wanting to obey her. A few minutes later her voice returned; a croak escaped her. Pins and needles rushed up her legs, as if they had been asleep, cut off from circulation.
She tried to find the other woman, but she was gone as far as Jasmine could tell, and her legs were still weak; wobbly. She grabbed a bottle of water from her cart and opened it, drinking it down while trying to figure out what had just happened. Why would one of the others, the outsiders, a witch if you wanted to call her that, come here? Come here and find her?
There was no doubt this hadn’t been an accident. Those who dealt with the Echo weren’t welcome here and hadn’t been for an extremely long time. It hadn’t been a formal agreement, not a grand sit down and signing of a treaty, but many generations ago, those outside the Bridgefinders found it better and safer for them to not be here. There was a lot of resentments too, over EVA, since EVA could act as a sort of Bridge magnet that limited those outside of the Bridgefinders from gaining access to the Echo world and its creatures.
That had led to the slow reduction of those who claimed to be witches and warlocks, wizards and soothsayers. Normal people, those who knew nothing of the Echo, just thought that the stories had just died off; that enlightenment and knowledge had eventually ended the superstitions of the old eras. But the tru
th was that the Bridgefinders had cut them off from their power for the most part, and so they had died off.
This of course made for a highly frosty relationship. Sure, the occasional Bridge could form outside the influence of EVA. Rumors had come sometimes of ways to form a Bridge from this world to the Echo world. Those stories had always been treated as rumors and lies by the Bridgefinders, though in light of Cendan’s recent proclamations about magic, maybe they shouldn’t have been.
Jasmine continued to look for the woman as she shopped, but didn’t see a sign of her anywhere, and in fact the rest of the shopping trip continued without incident. Leaving the store and loading her car, Jasmine kept feeling like she was being watched, however; that prickling on the back of the neck; the slight tension in the air. But glancing around she saw nothing.
Returning the cart to the store, she was just about to get in her car when a voice came from behind her.
“So you’re a Bridgefinder, huh? I’m not impressed.”
Jasmine whirled around to see the same woman from inside the store standing there; same red hair; same blue streak. The only thing different this time was what she was holding. A wooden circle, twisted almost. One look at it and Jasmine knew: that was a focus. Who was this woman?
“Excuse me?” Jasmine decided to play dumb. “Bridgefinder? I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now if you will excuse me—”
“Your name is Jasmine Wanatabi. You’re a seventh generation Bridgefinder. You use a red orchid to concentrate your abilities. It’s your fetish, your tool.” The woman continued. “And right now you all, what’s left of the mighty Bridgefinders, don’t have a damn clue as to what’s going on.”
Jasmine paused. How did the woman know that much about them? Realization came quickly. She used the word fetish, not focus; she’s a witch. One of those people who could be Bridgefinders, but instead used their abilities to help themselves, furthering their power. An anathema to the Bridgefinders and everything that they stood for. What was she doing? And what was she doing here?
“Your kind isn’t welcome here, witch,” Jasmine shot back. “Take your attitude and go back to whatever hole you crawled out of. You betray your world and want me to listen to you?” Jasmine’s anger rose quickly. “We have beaten back the Slyph for the first time in centuries. Soon your little power plays will be over.”
Laughter erupted from the other woman. “As I expected from a Bridgefinder. An overly righteous better-than-you tone, and flat-out missing the point.” The other woman took a step closer to jasmine. “My name is Heather. And yes, I’m a witch. I’m here because, as much as your kind make me angry, you all deserve to know what’s coming. You may have won a battle against the Slyph, you and that ... machine.”
Jasmine noted Heather’s grimace when she mentioned the machine, EVA. How did the witch know about that? Heather continued, however, breaking Jasmine’s train of thought.
“But things have changed on the Echo World and changed in a big way. The Slyph is still a danger, but there is a much larger one now.”
Jasmine snorted. “There’s nothing we need from you, witch. I don’t care what your name is, and I don’t care why you are here. The day you and yours are gone from this world, the better.” Deciding to ignore the woman and get back to the headquarters to talk this over with Marcus, Jasmine got in the car, quickly checking over the supplies.
“Foolish woman. I came here because I thought maybe the Bridgefinders would want to know that Grellnot, the killer of so many of your kind, is now in open rebellion on the Echo world. There’s a war brewing between the Slyph and Grellnot, and if Grellnot wins, you’re not just going to have to deal with the merging of the worlds. You will also have a creature who wants to see each and every damn living thing on both worlds’ dead and devoured, sacrificed to its hunger.” Heather stood in front of the car, anger flashing in her eyes.
Jasmine paused. Grellnot and the Slyph were at war? The thought of Grellnot having all the power of the Echo world at its disposal was a terrifying one. Jasmine cocked an eye at the witch.
“How do you know this? One of your creatures tell you?”
Heather nodded. “Yes. And I have a message for one of your members as well. One called Cendan Key.”
Eyes wide, Jasmine raced into thought. None of this made sense, but she needed more information.
“What’s the message?” Her thoughts turned towards Cendan, now. Why was he getting messages from the Echo world? What had he done there?
“Take me to him. The message is for him only.” Arms crossed, the witch glared at Jasmine. Her focus, or fetish as she liked to call it, was still firmly gripped in her hand. Jasmine was unsure what to do. If this Heather person was correct, this was vital information to them. If she was lying, there was some kind of reason for it. Then there was Cendan. How did she know him, even his name?
Add to all that the fact that she had done something to Jasmine in the store… More and more, she knew that Cendan had been correct. Bridgefinders had powers they weren’t aware of. They could do far more than just close Bridges and banish creatures back to the echo world. Marcus didn’t even want to hear the idea said out loud and still reacted angrily to it. Jasmine had agreed with him for a long time, but things had been changing.
If she brought Heather to the headquarters, Marcus would be angry; probably very. But if she brought the young witch to the outside, and brought Cendan out to meet with her, that might work.
“Ok, I’ll take you to a place where you can meet with Cendan. Don’t try anything though.” Jasmine’s eye’s flicked to the fetish in the witch’s hand.
“As if you could stop me. I can feel your power, you know. You’re full of it. Wasted ability; wasted power. You could be so much more than ... this ... door closer you’ve allowed them to make you.” Her face plastered with a smirk, Heather got into the car beside her. “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything. The bit in the store was to get your attention. Harmless hold pattern ... or I guess you would say spell. Nothing to worry about.”
Jasmine didn’t answer. That had been a harmless spell? She found herself wondering what things would have been like if she’d made the witch actually angry. She also couldn’t help wondering if she could replicate what the witch had done. Jasmine didn’t talk during the drive; she didn’t want to give anything away to her passenger. Heather, on the other hand, hummed a tune that Jasmine didn’t know. It was a sort of ghostly tune; haunting; sad. Jasmine could feel the song almost taking her concentration away from driving. Thankfully it was a short drive to the Red Orchid. It was almost a relief to pull in and stop the car.
“You wait here. I’ll talk to Cendan and see if he can, or wants, to come out.” Jasmine pointed at the witch.
“What, you don’t want me to help with the bags?” Eyes rolling, the young witch sighed. “Fine, I’ll stay here.”
Jasmine got as many bags as she could carry and descended the stairs to the transition point under the Red Orchid. She fumbled for a moment with the bags and her focus, but finally got the portal to home open.
Quickly she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Jasmine walked quickly towards the kitchen, hoping she’d not given anything away to the witch. Find Cendan quickly, let him know what was going on, and don’t let Marcus know. At least not yet. It pained her to keep things from Marcus; they’d known each other for a very long time. They’d practically grown up together in the Bridgefinders. Marcus had always craved the leadership of the organization, and had, when younger, been convinced that he would lead the group back to power and win the war with the Slyph. And in a way he had, but it had been Cendan who had actually done it.
Marcus was proud, and she knew he struggled with the fact that Cendan had been the pivotal person, not he. He and Cendan already had a delicate relationship, and the death of Sal had just put more strain on it all. Marcus still blamed himself for Sal’s death, but also felt that Cendan could have done more, should have done more, to save
him.
The kitchen was well lit and thankfully empty. If Cendan wasn’t here, he might be in the Garden or in the Maker wing. Quickly, Jasmine put away the supplies, casting glances at the door and making sure she didn’t miss him walking by. She also didn’t want to keep that witch waiting too long. Heather didn’t strike Jasmine as someone who had a great deal of patience.
Finishing up, Jasmine headed towards the Garden, hoping that Cendan was in there first. It was closer, and Marcus rarely went there. If she had to go to the Maker wing, that meant passing right by the barrier room, Marcus’s favorite place to brood. Marcus, if he was in there, would want to know why she hadn’t put her focus back right away as protocol dictated. Explaining why, that there was a witch outside wanting to talk to Cendan, was not something she wanted to do.
The doors to the Garden stood before her, green and ornate as always. She actually rather liked this place as-well, truthfully. The rest of the headquarters was very closed in. The Garden gave them a place to relax in the safety of the headquarters. Though not as safe apparently as they had all thought; the Slyph had managed to get two creatures in, the ones that had killed Sal. Cendan and EVA had said that the hound things were like Grellnot in a way, combinations of the magic of the Echo world and their world, which was why the protections in place hadn’t kept them out.
Pushing open the doors, she felt relieved. Cendan was there, t-shirt and shorts, doing something with plants. His back was to the door, and he didn’t seem to be paying too much attention. Jasmine couldn’t help but notice that the few weeks he had been here had changed him. Not only mentally, but physically as well. He’d filled out a bit, and she found herself somewhat surprisingly appreciating the view she was getting.
Jasmine shook her head. They were just friends now. That part of their relationship was long gone and buried. And it was for the better. Cendan was a nice guy, a great guy, but his total tone deafness on emotions and any connection to people really drove her to distraction. There had been too many arguments about things that should have been obvious to anyone with any sort of awareness about feelings.