by JM Guillen
I saw through that fire, as if I peered into a window that opened up behind the creatures.
My gaze returned from that eldritch fire to Garret, my eyes wide. Behind him, a second flame burned, having appeared in place without my notice. The two flaming gates were linked.
“Step through or we’ll come get you.” The numbing, electric drone came on strong, hitting me from behind.
I spun and the witch stood there, her eyes midnight hatred.
“I’m really your only choice?” I canted my voice a bit higher as I called down to Garret, and frantically glanced between the creatures.
Time to play the crazy card.
“I’m afraid so, Liz,” the creature said. It truly did seem remorseful. “This is a larger problem than we believed, and as it happens, you are the perfect solution.”
“I don’t think I want to.” I backed away from the Gate, stopping only when my butt hit the side rail of the fire escape. “I think that sounds horrible.”
“Liz,” the creature warned.
“In fact…” I glanced at the witch as my mind raced. “I think I have another solution.”
With one fluid motion, I grabbed the side rail and climbed up onto it. I flipped around to the far side and held myself firmly in place. I hung there, hands gripped on the railing, feet braced against it.
I hung there, two stories or so above the unforgiving concrete.
“What—” The smile fell from the creature’s face. “What are you doing?”
“Being a dim little idiot, that’s what.” I could just imagine Simon’s irritation.
“I’m hoping your witch lays off the mojo.” I smiled sweetly at the creature as she stared at me with dead, black eyes. “If I get woozy, I’m going to fall. It won’t help either of us if I’m paste on the concrete.”
“That’s…” The creature stopped and shook its head in disbelief. “You’re being foolish.”
Yet the narcotic drone did ease off, as if the witch had reigned herself in.
“Foolish is what I’m good at.” I couldn’t see Garret from this perspective, so I threw forced cheer into my words. “But the way I see it, I’d rather be flat in an alleyway than forced to make choices I don’t understand.”
“You’re right. You don’t understand,” the creature spoke again, its syllables short and clipped. “Even if you fall, you’re still coming with us.”
I hated its tone. It sounded exactly as it had back in my hotel room. A maddening certainty, an arrogance that it would be obeyed, dripped from its words.
Smack in the middle of retort preparations, I heard a giant CRACK. A glance down showed the air bubbling, gurgling as if the atmosphere itself were liquid.
Crimson fire appeared below me and blossomed into a shimmery gateway. This time, the Gate used no quarrel, no mechanism of any kind. Instead a brilliant spark of unnatural flame burst into existence, then burned away the space around it.
“Are you serious right now?” I muttered. I peered at the opening, more than a little confused. It’s larger. More than that, it had been placed very specifically. Peering through, I saw it led to the gateway behind the two creatures. If I were to let go from the walkway, I would certainly fall into it. And tumble out right at their feet.
Assuming that I meant to fall.
“Science it out.” I thought back to Baxter’s words for the thousandth time in the last few minutes. I never could have guessed a random thing my friend had said would help me so much. I took a deep breath to steady myself and reached for the tumult of wind that slept within me.
I didn’t even have a Seal of any kind. Yet it would have to do.
“Don’t be foolish, Liz,” Garret warned.
“Too late.” I bit my lip. “Choice made.”
“If you have less air pressure over you, and more air pressure beneath, you’ll lift off,” Baxter’s words came again, certain in their scientific truthiness.
“Leap,” I half thought, half whispered. Please let me make it. I drew a breath and ignored the tiny trembles that shivered their way through me. I dug through my memory, desperately seeking any recollection of the Empyrean sigils this Simon had hidden on the inside of his ball cap.
DEX check, Liz.
Wisely, I let go of the railing
I kicked backward with my feet.
I spun into a backflip.
In that same moment, I grasped the tempest within me and clung desperately to its fury as I began to fall.
LEAP! FLY! I frantically clung to the words and clutched at the bracelet. The moment I stupidly did so, I felt its otherworldly melody tear through me.
The bracelet on my arm burst into inexplicable color and music. That sound rang from the edge of the world and echoed through all things. Wind buffeted furiously against me, screaming from the alleyway below. It felt cold, truly frigid as it beat against me.
For a blink of eternity, I plummeted.
Out of nowhere, a screaming maelstrom exploded. The coldness of it drove the breath out of my lungs and hurled me wildly sideways.
I screamed as well and my cry mixed with the wild cacophony of the wind. For an eternal, ludicrous moment I could find neither up nor down, simply tumbled along as the wind blew me.
I was flying.
I was flying.
6
Now obviously, in this instance “flying” was more like tumbling backside over brains. Still, as I tumbled wildly through the air, I tracked the ridiculously stunned expression on Garret’s face while I sailed upward.
The wind gusted again, this time from the left. I practically somersaulted forward, and dizzily stretched my arms out as if I could somehow control being tossed around in a tornado.
“Okay!” I rambled to myself as I tried to keep track of the direction I flew. “Okay, okay…”
I fell.
I was falling. In front of me I saw a grey blur, what could only be a roof top moving toward my face much faster than I felt comfortable with.
“No!” I panicked and extended both hands.
If I hit the roof at this speed my hands would likely be shredded by the roof’s surface.
I wasn’t exactly thinking.
No sooner had the word left my mouth than the wind shifted directions again, cushioning my fall. By the time my tennis shoes touched the rooftop, I felt more like I had been jogging than like I had been shot of a wind cannon.
I stumble-stepped forward a few strides, and stopped in place.
“God.” I stood still for a moment, my arms spread out like I balanced on a tight rope. My wind-tossed hair hung frazzled in my face, and my knees bent slightly. I probably looked as if I’d prepared to take off in a sprint.
My heart felt like a bird’s wings in my chest.
“Breathe, Liz.” Slowly, I turned around, still stumbling just a bit. I shook my head and tried to brush away a sudden bout of dizziness.
Before I took more than a couple of steps, I had to catch myself as I almost collapsed from sudden fatigue. I felt as if I’d just been hit by a dump truck full of exhaustion.
“Shit,” I blinked blearily and glanced back in the direction I’d come. How far had the wind carried me?
I could still make out the alleyway, though it had to be more than fifty feet away. I guessed the alley to be twenty feet wide or so, which meant the wind had carried me…
“Seventy feet. Or so,” I panted.
Across the alley I saw the fire escape I’d stood on. There, springing forth from one of the quarrels still sticking out of the brick, a flaming gateway burned.
Garret sat on the other side of that Gate, flat on his ass. He must have been knocked there by the hurricane-level winds that had suddenly erupted in the alleyway.
He drunkenly picked himself up off the ground, and staggered a bit. His hair had been mussed, and he’d lost his sunglasses.
His friend, the one who had used the crossbow/portal device, remained on the ground.
Unconscious? Dead?
“Eit
her way means you won’t catch me.” I felt too weary to even smile.
Garret gazed into the gateway, his eyes wide. I saw him stare at me with disbelief.
“Gotta be my cue to leave.” As I turned, I saw the witch step forward as well and appear in the doorway to the record shop, her right hand twitching and jerking.
I didn’t wait to see more. Exhaustion washed over me, and I tripped and almost fell onto the rooftop gravel.
Then, tired though I was, I began to run.
Again.
7
On the far side of the building, past several large air conditioning units and a maintenance shed, a wall greeted me where a new building began. An old rusted ladder had been attached to the side. I shimmied up and wondered how I would find my way back to the streets.
Guess I could fly down, I thought wearily. Thing was, I truly didn’t think I could. I felt like I’d failed every saving throw possible. That last little burst from the bracelet had taken a toll, and I didn’t know if I dared call on it again.
If I fell unconscious, Garret would catch me soon enough.
Honestly though, I thought perhaps I’d made away. Oh, Garret’s witch-friend could probably track me to some degree, at least while I remained in range.
“But not before today, could you?” I mused. It had been days since I’d seen Garret, days since Simon had given me his little trinket. He’d told me it would hide me well, and I guessed it truly had.
“Until…” I grumbled. Had it been when I used the wind at Mr. Serin’s office? Simon had instructed me the Aegis would keep me from their sight…
“If it so happens that you get yourself found, you’ll have a little bit more mojo if you wear that little toy. It’s whatcha call a catch-22. As long as you don’t use your specialty, the Aegis will keep you hidden.” He waggled one hand. “Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“Well, if you do feel the need to show off, you’ll have a bit more oomph. Therefore, if anyone is actively looking for you, they’ll see you more easily.”
“Got it.”
“But having more oomph means you need to have more self-control,” he warned. “If you have any slip-ups, they’re likely to be big ones.”
That had to be it. They had picked me up on some kind of long range scanner when I called the wind. Before that, however, the Aegis had functioned.
I’d been a ghost.
“I’ll just have to be careful,” I sighed as I worked my way across a labyrinth of vents. “Pity, really.”
I probably wouldn’t get to take Baxter flying.
Sirens howled in the distance—a common sound in New York. Still, I liked to imagine Saul had finally pulled his head out of his ass and called to cops on the terrorists in his shop.
Although, now that I thought on it, that just might end badly for the cops.
The building stretched along most of the block, and at the far side, another fire escape waited for me. Peering down, I realized what an easy drop that would be.
“And then home to Knucklebones.” I draped my legs over the edge of the building before I dropped down a few feet to the iron grating below. “Easy.”
I almost botched the landing, but didn’t care. I’d trotted down two levels of stairs before I released the ladder to the ground.
“Terra firma.” I grinned as I touched down.
Finally.
I trotted off into the shadows and found a busy street within moments. I peered about, but found no sign of creepy-ass men in black.
I tried to blend in with the crowd, but took nearly ten minutes to make certain I hadn’t been seen. Once certain, I flagged down a cab.
The interior was dark and safe. As I shut the door behind me, a mountain of stress fell away.
“Where to, young lady?” The cheery voice lit the car with welcome.
As it turned out, the driver was a kind Pakistani.
He didn’t seem to be a Silent Gentleman at all.
Unearthed Arcana
“Oh and here you are.” The chipper driver pulled to a stop, and I jolted wide awake.
“What now?” I sleep-mumbled and gazed about. The sky had darkened to full on night now, and it took me a moment to reorient myself.
Did I fall asleep? I shook my head and wiped at my addled eyes. It’s probably bad form to fall asleep in the middle of a taxi ride. I imagined Simon would have all kinds of opinions on the subject. On the upside, I didn’t believe I drooled on the man’s seat. Much.
“Here is your total,” he said cheerily and gestured at the meter.
I nodded and pulled a wad of crumpled bills from my pocket. “Keep the change.” I waved as I slipped out of the car. Typically, I would have found it difficult to be so open handed with money, but then again…
Before today, I hadn’t been Liz Shepherd, business mogul.
I fumbled in my pocket and pulled out first my Nokia, then the ring of keys. I took a moment to fiddle with the lock in the dark, and finally used the dim light of the phone’s screen to fit the proper key into the door.
I hadn’t been to Knucklebones in years before this week, much less in the shadows of a darkened street. Nevertheless, I got inside and punched in the alarm code without being mugged.
Or black-sacked.
“It’s only nine I grumbled to myself. Typically, the night would just be getting started, maybe with a marathon of cheesy movies or some comics.
But weariness draped over me, as if I had iron in my bones.
I just couldn’t remember being so. Damn. Tired.
“One thing, though.” I pocketed the keys and dialed, knowing Rehl would pick up.
He’d better, at least. We’d hammered out the specifics of his job over the phone—I’d see if he was serious.
“Hey, boss!” Reh’s cheer practically glowed through the phone. “What’s up?”
“Not me.” I walked through the store. “I’m dead beat. I’m gonna sleep until the next ice age.”
“So I’ll be running the store without you?”
“Shit. I can’t do that. Your incompetence will drive me into the ground.”
“True,” he chuckled.
“I’m gonna crash.” I smacked the hall light and glared up at the pull rope that dangled from the ceiling.
I really need to find that hook.
“Thanks for the update.”
“Get ahold of Baxter, would ya? Tomorrow I need you both here. You and I need to look at the situation with the store, and Bax needs to tell me if the LAN room is set up properly.”
“Seems reasonable. What time in the morning?”
“Morning?” I bent my knees and leapt for the string and barely caught it. “Man, I’m thinking afternoon.” Then I considered my dad’s puzzle box and the mysteries in the small journal. “Maybe evening. Think you guys can get over here by seven or so?”
“I assume that by ‘here’ you mean Knucklebones and not your dad’s apartment.”
“Right.” I’d forgotten Rehl didn’t exactly know everything going on with Dad.
As if I did.
“Knucklebones. I’ll be open, just bring Bax and we’ll chat,” I mumbled.
“Cool with me, Liz,” he said. “I look forward to it.”
We hung up, and I dragged my way up the ladder to my secret attic lair.
Lair, I grinned. That name was totally going to stick.
Still lit by Christmas lights, the room remained dim, and shadows loomed. The only other light was the large round window on the far wall, which let in wan moonlight.
I did not care about spooky shadows. At all.
Shambling along like a golem, I walked toward my father’s canopy bed. I set my phone and small knapsack of mysteries on the table next to it, and fell into softness.
I swear, I fell asleep before I hit the blankets.
2
September 2, 1997
New York, New York
The jangling of a phone clawed its way into my ears. It had been ringing a whil
e, I knew, but apparently not enough to fully wake me up. I’d only heard it from some dim corner of my mind that wanted to remain asleep.
“Okay!” I rolled over in the bed and grasped for the phone. A small jar fell off the nightstand when I blindly scrabbled for the phone.
“What?”
“Five missed calls?” Baxter sounded relieved and annoyed.
“I dunno.” I swung my legs off the edge of the bed. “Maybe.”
“You’re the one who said to show up, Liz. It’s 7:30.”
“I meant PM!” I groaned and leaned forward, elbows on knees as I sat. “Seven PM.”
“Yeah,” Baxter snapped. “We know.”
What? I pulled my phone away from my ear, my eyes wide as I read the small clock.
7:32 PM.
“Holy shit, I’m sorry!” I gave my head a shake and stumbled blearily to my feet. “I’ll be right there.”
The ladder creaked on the way down and I didn’t even try to slow it on the way up, so confused was I over my evening.
I just slept twenty-two hours straight! What the hell!
“I’m so sorry!” I frantically opened the door and gushed at my two surly friends. “I fell asleep.”
Yesterday, I did not add.
“It’s fine.” Rehl gave a weak smile. “If you get some Chinese delivered, I bet Bax here will stop grumbling.”
“I’m just saying,” Baxter turned from me to Rehl, “if I were thirty minutes late, there’d be a damn inquisition.”
“Oooh,” Rehl chuckled and waved his hands in the air. “Nobody would ever expect it.”
“I might be able to manage some Chinese food,” I said. “As it happens, I’m starving, too.”
“Well.” Baxter seemed mollified. “I suppose I can’t turn down crab rangoon.”
I made the order while the guys geeked out over the store. I had to admit to a certain sense of pride as I watched two of my oldest friends go wiggy as they pawed my dad’s stock.
Mine. I realized for the dozenth time. My stock.