Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus Beginnings

by Lydia Sherrer

  “Ten thousand?” Sebastian asked, incredulous. “You offered the other guy a hundred.”

  “Yes, but you’re not desperate. You don’t have a dying son.”

  “Maybe not, but I do have dead parents.”

  “Indeed…yet you yourself said you can’t change fate. Did all those pretty words mean nothing?”

  Sebastian didn’t reply. His smile had faded, but his gaze didn’t waver. Lily could see the pain in his eyes and couldn’t imagine the struggle he was going though. She waited, breathless, wanting to offer support but not daring to speak with both men on a hair trigger.

  “What’s going on?” A tremulous, child-like voice spoke from the stairs.

  “Bobby, no!” Rob yelled, making a dash for his son.

  Distracted by Rob, the wizard’s attention faltered for a split second. Sebastian saw his chance and fired the Taser.

  Chaos erupted.

  The electrical shock made the wizard’s hand clench, and a boom split the air as his gun fired. The slug hit Sebastian square in the chest and threw him backward.

  “NO!” Lily’s whole body went cold. Her ears were ringing so badly she couldn’t even hear her own scream as she lunged for Sebastian’s now prostrate form, bleeding out on the kitchen floor.

  “No, no, no, no,” she moaned, trying to press down on the bullet wound to stop the bleeding. All she achieved was hands stained red as the blood continued to seep out, soaking Sebastian’s shirt. She looked around desperately, trying to force her shocked mind to come up with a plan. The wizard lay a few feet away, twitching, Taser probes still hanging off him. She noticed a slight waver in the air behind him, a flickering that jump-started her thought process.

  Scrambling, she stumbled over Sebastian’s limp form, heading for where Rob was clutching his son at the bottom of the stairs, eyes wide and staring in shock at the dying man on his floor. He’d dropped the box containing the lugal-nam in his dash for the stairs, and Lily scooped it up off the floor.

  Opening it, she gazed upon the lugal-nam for the first time and was lost for a moment in wonder at its intricate beauty. Something about it drew her in, a sort of magical aura that radiated ancient power.

  She shook herself. Everything depended on her getting this right. She only hoped the device had enough power left for what she needed to do.

  Let it work, please let it work, she thought, refusing to consider the alternative.

  Giving herself a few precious moments to carefully examine the dimmu runes, she turned one dial, then another, lining up the symbols in what she thought was the right combination. With a click the button on the end popped out as if eager to be pushed. Looking back at Sebastian’s body, Lily was gripped by a moment of sheer panic. What if she’d read the runes wrong? What if the device didn’t work?

  It didn’t matter. She couldn’t sit there and watch her friend die. With a wordless prayer, she pushed the button.

  Time shifted.

  “…I’ll even offer you ten thousand dollars to pay for your trouble.”

  There was a moment of silence in which the wizard looked expectantly at Sebastian. But Sebastian was staring at Lily. Unlike Rob and the wizard, he remembered what had just happened. With a nod of reassurance, she wordlessly asked him to trust her.

  He gave a tiny nod and shifted his eyes back to the wizard. “Ten thousand?” he asked belatedly. “You offered the other guy a hundred.”

  The wizard’s brow was knit in confusion at their silent exchange, but he continued anyway. “Yes, but you’re not desperate. You don’t have a dying son.”

  “Maybe not, but I do have dead parents,” Sebastian replied, getting back into stride.

  Ignoring the men’s conversation, Lily took advantage of their focus on each other to shift slightly, looking behind the wizard and hoping what she’d seen before was still there.

  It was.

  With a lunge that would have made her long-ago high school gym coach proud, Lily tackled the wizard, pushing him violently backwards. Her push wasn’t strong—she was no athlete—but it was enough to make him stumble back.

  He had time for a startled cry, his reflexive movements setting off the gun, which put a bullet in the wall just above Sebastian’s head. Then he was gone, fallen through the ripple in time behind him that led to who knew where.

  Silence hung in the air, broken only by the ringing in Lily’s ear. Her heart pounded like she’d just sprinted a mile and her limbs shook, adrenaline still rushing through her body.

  “Wow…Lily…” Sebastian stammered, staring at her in shock and not a little awe.

  Lily ignored him and faced Rob, not trusting her emotions enough yet to speak to the man she’d seen dying on the floor moments before. She suspected the vision of Sebastian’s bleeding form would haunt her dreams for weeks. She’d examine that tangle of feelings later.

  “Mr. Smith, now do you see how dangerous that device is? What it can drive men to do? For the love of your son, give it to us, and let us take it far away from here and leave you in peace.”

  “What’s going on?” A tremulous, child-like voice spoke from the stairs leading to the second floor.

  Rob looked over at the wide-eyed face of his son, expression tortured and eyes brimming with tears. He looked back at Lily, then at the spot in his living room where the wizard had stood. Finally, he nodded. Placing the box on the kitchen table, he went to his son.

  “Nothing’s goin’ on, Bobby boy. Let’s get you back in bed.”

  He ushered his son up the stairs, giving them one last, sad look over his shoulder.

  Sebastian picked up the box and looked at Lily, uncertainty in his eyes.

  “It’s your family’s heirloom, your family’s burden,” she said, understanding his unspoken struggle. “It’s up to you.”

  She saw the pain from years of loneliness and loss flash across his features. Then he looked away, expression unreadable. Opening the box, he took out the lugal-nam and gazed at it briefly. Lily could only guess what wild hopes and desires were running through his mind.

  Then in one swift motion he raised it above his head and threw it violently down on the bare kitchen floor.

  The artifact’s fragile clay form shattered and everything around her vanished into blackness.

  * * *

  Lily woke to find herself lying across the edge of a sidewalk. Her head, shoulder, and hip throbbed painfully. She sat up, holding her head to try to ease the splitting headache fast developing there. With a jolt of relief, she spotted Sebastian several feet away, also draped across the curb. He looked to have as bad a headache as she, but was no worse for wear.

  Looking around she saw other people as well. All were in various states of picking themselves up off the ground. Several cars sat at crazy angles in the road as if their drivers had momentarily lost control, then screeched to a halt. Thankfully, no one appeared to be hurt.

  Realizing they were finally back in real time, Lily scrabbled for her phone. It was 5:25 PM, Thursday, July 5. She’d been gone five days, vanished into thin air.

  Lily pressed her lips together, trying to ignore the tight knot of worry in her chest. They would be frantic at the library. At least she knew Sir Kipling would be fine. She had long ago bought one of those fancy cat food and water dispensers that lasted him at least a week—this was not the first time Sebastian’s wild adventures had kept her away.

  “Um, Sebastian,” she said.

  She heard a grunt, a groan, and then, “Yeah?”

  “Next time you need help finding a time looping device and saving a whole town from certain death and destruction…don’t call me, okay?”

  “…got it. No calling you when the world needs saving and you’re the only one who can help.”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  “Yessir, ma’am.”

  Epilogue

  They left Sebastian’s car in Pitts. He’d been stuck there a week longer than Lily, and he had that much more sleep to catch up on. He conked out as soon as he
dropped into her passenger seat.

  They didn’t stick around to explain to the confused population of Pitts what had happened. Magic on that scale affecting a large portion of the uninformed public hadn’t happened in a long time. Lily felt it was wisest to make herself scarce. Hopefully no one would remember them, or else everyone would write the whole experience off as a strange dream. A strange dream lasting several weeks. If he were smart, Rob would sweep up the fragments of that artifact, bury them somewhere remote, and claim he knew nothing. She regretted missing the chance to study such an ancient and powerful device. But perhaps it was for the best.

  She’d also hoped to talk to Rob about their family tree. There had to be magical blood in there somewhere for Bobby to have turned on the lugal-nam. But perhaps that was also a path best left untrod. She didn’t think Rob would appreciate that sort of life-changing news, considering his son’s days were numbered. Not even magic could cure terminal illness.

  Though she didn’t feel much better than Sebastian looked, multiple energy drinks and a mind racing with questions kept her awake for the few hours it took to drive back to Atlanta, deposit Sebastian at his apartment, then drive home and drag herself up to her own apartment.

  She briefly considered calling someone at the college to let them know she was back, but she couldn’t bring herself to deal with the drama just then. Groaning inside and knowing there would be hell to pay in the morning, she unlocked her front door and made it as far as the couch before passing out, while an anxious Sir Kipling purred and rubbed on her leg dangling over the edge.

  The next morning she called the library and tried to explain that she’d had to go home unexpectedly for a family emergency and hadn’t had a chance to call until now. Her boss, the director of library services, calmly accepted her lame excuse and said she was glad Lily was home safe. She suggested Lily take the day off and come in to work on Monday.

  Thirty minutes later, two cops showed up at her door.

  She spent a good hour answering their questions, trying to make her story as bland and uninteresting as possible. She could tell they weren’t buying it. But it had only been a missing persons report, after all. And since she was, quite obviously, no longer missing, there wasn’t much more for them to do but wish her a restful weekend and go on their way.

  Later that day she went by to check on Sebastian. She found his door unlocked and him, fully clothed, fast asleep on his bed. Apparently no one had missed him enough to file a missing persons report. She went out and got him some groceries—it was the least she could do—and when she got back he was awake.

  They ate a silent, sober meal together.

  Finally, she couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Sebastian, why did you break it? I mean, it got us out of the loop, but if we’d have waited a bit longer the loop would have ended anyway.”

  He was silent a long time before answering.

  “I figured if I broke it, that would keep Mr. Fancy Pants from popping back in on us. I didn’t like that guy one bit.” He glared into the bowl of tomato soup she’d made for him.

  “Is that all?” she prompted after another long pause.

  “No…I meant what I said about not playing God. But if I’d kept the lugal-nam, knowing what it does, I’d have tried to bring them back and damn the consequences.”

  Lily let the conversation drop, not needing to ask who “they” were. She wondered what she would have done in his situation. Well, she was, in a way. To what lengths would she go to find her father? What difficult decisions might she have to make, and what consequences would they have? Looming above those questions was the memory of a frightening, dangerous, yet annoyingly familiar wizard she’d pushed into a time-rift with her own hands. She wondered if he’d found his way back to real time yet. She also wondered who he was and how he might be connected to her family. Most of all, she wondered when and where she might meet him again.

  * * *

  A week later, more visitors arrived. She answered the firm knock to find two black-suited agents on her doorstep, a man and a woman. She was immediately struck by how handsome the man looked, and the unexpected ambush of her mind by such embarrassing thoughts left her flustered and searching for an appropriate greeting.

  The man, sensing her hesitation, spoke first as he held up a badge for her to see. “Good afternoon, Miss Singer. My name is Agent Grant and this is Agent Meyer. We’re with the FBI. We’d like to ask you a few questions about an incident in Pitts. Do you mind if we come in?”

  Great, she thought. Just great.

  To be continued in Book 2 of the Lily Singer Adventures: Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus: Revelations

  Keep going to read a preview of Book 2

  LOVE, LIES, AND HOCUS POCUS: REVELATIONS

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  Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus: Revelations

  CHAPTER 1 - Unexpected Conversations

  Beams of late afternoon sunlight poured through Lily Singer’s living room window, casting a bright patch of warmth on the rug. It was the only bit of July heat that made it into the air-conditioned refuge of her apartment. She sat cross-legged in the bright rectangle surrounded by open books and scattered papers. Her cat, Sir Edgar Allan Kipling, lay artfully sprawled across the mess, paws in the air and fluffy tummy soaking up the warmth like a sponge. Being a cat, he always seemed to be lying on the exact paper she was looking for, no matter where she moved him.Lily usually did her research and casting in the Basement, her magical archive beneath the McCain Library of Agnes Scott College, where she worked as archives manager. Yet, the Basement lacked natural light, so she’d relocated to her living room in an attempt to translate the cuneiform from a fragment of clay tablet the size of a matchbox. Its worn marks were exceptionally hard to see, so the sunshine helped.

  Thus far, by cross-referencing her most reliable lexicon with archaeological accounts dating to the nineteenth century, she’d been able to confidently identify only a single grouping of marks. They made reference to Ninmah, the Sumerian goddess of the earth and animals. More fascinating than the cuneiform, however, were the dimmu runes hidden beneath, invisible to the mundane, non-wizard eye. They were easier to see but no less confusing, as they differed from the standardized runes in her eduba—her personal archive contained within a single, enchanted tome. She assumed the runes differed because they predated the centuries of study and research she benefited from. Whatever they meant, exactly, the runes appeared to be part of a controlling spell. Without the complete tablet for context, however, she couldn’t know for sure.

  Technically, she was supposed to be working on the engravings for her new ward bracelet. Madam Barrington, her teacher in the wizarding arts as well as the former Agnes Scott archives manager, had lent her a standard ward after her original bracelet broke under the strain of magical backlash. It was enough to tide her over, but it was no replacement for a true, personally crafted ward. While digging through the Basement’s drawers looking for supplies, however, she’d come across this fragment. Enkinim, the language of magic and therefore her primary study, was related to Sumerian in the same way magical dimmu runes were related to cuneiform. Curiosity and the promise of a challenge had been too much to resist.

  She was peering at the fragment when a ringing interrupted her. Laying the piece of clay down on a pile of reference papers, she headed for her purse in the bedroom. As an introvert, she had few friends, and maintained an observant, rather than interactive, presence online, and so rarely kept her phone nearby. Glancing at the caller ID, she was surprised but delighted to see who it was. Madam Barrington didn’t often use the phone.

  “Good evening, Ms. B.”

  “Good evening, Miss Singer,” she replied. Despite having been Lily’s mentor for the past seven years, Madam Barrington was old-fashioned to the core and rarely addressed anyone by their first name. “I trust I’m not interrupting anything important?”

  “Nothing that can’t wait. To what do I owe the pleasure?”r />
  “If you are able to excuse yourself from holding office hours tomorrow, an opportunity to further your professional and magical knowledge has arisen. The Tablet of Eridu exhibit at the Clay Museum will be closing at the end of the month. The artifact is on loan from the Hermann Hilprecht Museum of the University of Pennsylvania and has great historical as well as magical significance. I worked in partnership with the Clay Museum’s curator two years ago when the exhibit opened; they have requested my help again to ensure the artifact’s safe return. I agreed on the condition that you be allowed to assist. I am, after all, retired.” Lily heard the faintest hint of dry humor in her mentor’s voice and smiled. Like all wizards, Madam Barrington was long-lived and well preserved. She’d retired to let Lily take over management of the archives, not because of age or infirmity.

  “I’d be delighted to join you. Fall term is a good month away and the summer students rarely darken my door. When and where shall I meet you?”

  “Nine o’clock tomorrow morning at the Clay Museum. It is located on Emory University grounds.”

  “I’ll be there,” Lily said, making a note in her datebook.

  “Very good, Miss Singer. I shall see you then.”

  They exchanged farewells and Lily hung up, thoughtful. She was familiar with Emory. It was a private research university north of Agnes Scott in the Druid Hills area of Atlanta. She’d been to their archives once or twice, as well as taken a few of their library science classes to augment her work experience at McCain Library, but she had never visited the Clay Museum.

  Returning to her patch of sunlight and pile of papers, she was horrified to find Sir Kipling licking the clay fragment.

  “Stop that! Shoo, shoo!” Lily hurried over and Sir Kipling, knowing he was in trouble, fled to relative safety underneath her desk.