Most casual observers would have described the study as “messy,” though some, noticing the stacks of books piled on and around the desk, might use the word “hoarder.” More astute observers might notice the gaps on the bookshelves were about the same volume as the books on the desk, and used the words, “in use,” quickly amended with “currently,” before excusing themselves for interrupting the formally-dressed figure partially concealed behind the stacks.
The Magician’s friends would have approached closer, and noticed the titles on spines of the books, old scholarly works on linguistics for both current and long dead languages, books on alchemy, even a very old looking pamphlet on witchcraft. Some of them looked far older. An open one looked new, but was filled with old-looking text, symbols, and diagrams, as if hand-copied from something delicate to a more durable medium.
The Magician’s assistants would have noticed his handwriting and copious notes on Post-Its stuck to the books and the papers, because they’d been reading similar ones for years every time he designed a new illusion or had a team meeting.
Skye, the Magician’s newest technical assistant, would have spotted that the larger diagram in the book was surrounded by margin notes indicating changes and corrections, because she was actually good at reading the Magician’s blueprints. She might have also spotted a margin note written in larger, heavier shorthand, as if the writer had been angry when he made it, reading, Changed? Who/When! before getting embarrassed that she was reading something private and looking away.
Hitomi- the Magician’s secretary, stage manager, and personal assistant- noticed all this, and also read the notes to herself upside down, because she never let her professional respect for privacy get in the way of her curiosity, and because part of her job was watching the Magician and letting him know when his ideas were getting a little on the outlandish side. She also spotted a paper with a drawing, almost identical to the one in the book, and recognized both to be the Seal of Solomon. Surrounding the second drawing, completely filling the paper, were more notes, and sketches of some of the details of the seal. In one case, an ankh was drawn beside the detail, and they looked almost, but not quite the same. Tiny notes surrounded it, illegible to her eyes; they were cramped to save space. Post-its on the page had notes on metal composition.
“Boss, the ball starts in fifteen minutes. We really need to get to the limo.”
The Magician looked up and blinked a few times. “Already? Thank you, Hitomi, I hadn’t noticed.” He started to rise.
She stepped in, put a hand on his chest, stopping him. “You haven’t noticed a lot, lately, boss. You haven’t designed a new illusion for months. We haven’t booked many shows, and you’ve just been going through the motions on the ones we’ve performed. I know we’ve been through a lot, but the assistants are getting worried.”
“Why? They’re still on retainer, they’re paid no matter what-”
“They’re worried about you, boss.”
“What?”
“Oh, come on. You’re spending all your energy on this stuff. If you were acting like yourself, I wouldn’t even have needed to bring it up- you’d have already noticed.”
“Hito-chan-”
“Yes, I know how you get. When there’s something you don’t understand, you go after it like a dog after its lost ball until you figure it out.”
The Magician sighed, and looked at the papers on his desk.
“This one’s bigger than most, isn’t it?” Hitomi smiled comfortingly.
He nodded.
“Gwynn-” she said, stepping behind him to put her hands on his shoulders. “Talk to me. What are you up to?”
The Magician reached up and held her hands. “Hito-chan. Indulge me in an experiment. Repeat what I say.” He uttered a phrase in a decidedly foreign language.
“That’s… Hebrew, I think? It sounds strange.”
“It’s a much older dialect than what’s spoken today. Just say it.”
Hitomi repeated the words.
“No- a little more accent on the first syllable.”
She tried again.
“That’s perfect.” He quickly snapped a pair of handcuffs onto her wrists.
“Hey! No kinky stuff! We’re late as it is.”
“Trust me, and repeat the words again.” He pressed an object into her hand.
Hitomi uttered the words. There was a faint click, and the handcuffs opened. “Huh? They feel warm. How’d you do that?”
“I didn’t. You did.”
“Okay, boss. What’s the trick?”
“Hitomi, there isn’t one. You just did real magic. Those were the Words of Release.”
Hitomi let the handcuffs fall into the Magician’s lap, and looked at the object in her hand. “This isn’t a remote control.” It looked like an Ankh, made of silver, but stylised in a way she’d never seen before.
“No. It’s a battery.”
“What?”
“Hitomi. It’s a battery. It stores mystic power until someone says the words of a spell.”
Hitomi stared at the Ankh.
“The problem is, it’s dangerous- anyone can use it.”
Hitomi blinked, and looked at the diagrams again. “It’s different from the Ankh on the page.”
“It’s a true Ankh. A real one. I reconstructed the true form from the seal that Miles drew. Someone- some group, long ago, changed… all the records.”
Hitomi looked at the pictures. “I assume you figured out why?”
The Magician took her hand. “I think they were right to do so, then. Imagine if something like what we fought got out into a world full of real magic, where batteries like that one were everywhere.”
“Chaos,” Hitomi refused to imagine more. “So why aren’t you melting that one down and burning your notes?”
“Because we might need that power ourselves. That… thing got in. What if another can follow?”
“But won’t it just feed off your battery? Why give it even more power?”
“Hitomi- if I’m understanding how the Seal of Solomon actually functions, there’s a way to lock up that power- attune it so only certain things… or people- can use it.”
“So you could use the magic to banish a demon-”
“And it couldn’t use it to hurt me back. Exactly… But I can’t quite figure out precisely how to make it work. If only Miles had left behind more seals, or more spells- some more real magic I could study...”
Hitomi turned his chair around, and sat in his lap. “Gwydion- can it at least wait until tomorrow? There’s some kids from your theater program that really want to see some amazing sleight-of-hand.” She touched his cheek.
Gwydion chuckled. “Okay, you win.” He leaned forward and kissed her. “Let’s get to that ball.”
---
The Survivor’s Club
Chupie let out his baroo just before the doorbell rang. I walked to the entryway and looked at our Basenji. “Sit, boy. Stay.” Of course he obeyed.
An unexpected but familiar face was waiting on the other side of the peephole. I opened the door immediately.
“Amy!” Marisol pushed open the door, stepped in, and gave me a hug. I started, then hugged back, warming to her embrace. Chupie let out his yodelling bark and jumped up, paws on her butt.
“Aww, Cheew-peee! Who’s a good boy? Who’s such a good boy?!” She broke away and ran her fingers through his fur. “Who likes my cute butt?” She grinned like a maniac and dropped to one knee to hug him.
“Who’s there?” Cass called from upstairs.
“Cassie!” Marisol called back, “It’s just me dropping by! So good to see you!”
Cassandra ran down the stairs, and I watched the two of them roll on the floor with the dog as I shut the door.
“You all look ridiculous,” I sighed, rolling my eyes for effect. They didn’t notice. “Can I get you coffee… or whiskey?”
Marisol perked up. “Both, yes, please!”
I smiled and started the Mixpresso coffee maker as my guest and my roommate moved to the sofa.
Marisol looked to Chupie, then back to me. “The dog’s doing well? Any problems with behavior?”
I put the cup under the spout and pressed the start button. “None at all- you’d think he’d never been through anything at all.”
Chupie hopped up in Cassie’s lap. “He’s the sweetest rescue dog I’ve ever had,” she said, petting him.
Marisol chuckled, “Yes, but I bet you say that about all the boys.”
I poured two shots of Jim Beam. “Cass, you want a shot too?”
“No thanks, Amy- I’ve got to work tomorrow.”
Mari smiled, “Tomorrow’s so far away, though…”
Cass punched her playfully. “Yes, but If I have a shot with you, it somehow always magically multiplies. I’m not about to guide my kids into the trees by mistake.”
I poured one shot into the coffee, then downed the second myself. “Cass really loves teaching ski school. I don’t know what she’ll do when the snow melts.”
“Park docent, Amy- I already put in my application. Dave’ll keep me on,for the summer, he thinks I’m cute.” She winked.
Marisol chuckled and looked to me. “How are the classes going, Amanda?”
I sat on the arm of the sofa, handing Mari her coffee. “Pretty good. Midterms in a month, but I’m feeling good about them. Thank you for being an inspiration to me.”
“Hey, what’s that mean? Are you saying you’re surprised a dance major can write reports?” She laughed warmly, then reached over to give me a hug. Chupie nosed his way between us. “Jealous little fucker, isn’t he?”
I laughed. “Always.” I leaned back and looked at her. She looked just as cheerful as ever. “Marisol… how are you doing? It’s been almost six months since…”
“Since the demon. Yeah, you can say it.” She took a deep breath. “I can deal. Robyn’s an amazing therapist, you know. Cass can tell you- she Skypes with her weekly.”
Cass nodded, “She’s about the only person we can talk to about it- so glad the Magician let her take more classes while she’s working.”
“Fuck yeah. As if I could tell any other psychologist I’d been raped by a demon.” Marisol stiffened, just for a moment. “You guys see the show?”
I smiled. “Oh hell yes- I’ve got it set to ‘keep’ on the DVR. You were amazing- that first illusion!-”
Mari beamed. “Thanks- but the new girl, Skye, has to get the credit for that one. She also convinced the Boss to finally go on TV. It’s been great publicity for the tour… Speaking of which-” She reached into her purse. “You both are free tomorrow night,” she stated as she pulled out two tickets, knowing if we weren’t yet, we would be.
Cass grabbed them out of her fingers. “Hey! Front row, center!”
“You know it- as close as you can be without actually being in the show… But since Amy here already has an NDA on file-”
“Don’t you dare!” I blushed. “You know I don’t like all that attention!”
“Come on, you know you want to be a volunteer. It’ll push your comfort zone- it’s good for you!” Mari chuckled.
“Speaking of which- have you heard anything from our other assistant friend?” Cass asked.
“Yes! How’s Maris?” I interjected quickly.
“Oh! Um, I did get a text message from her a week ago- she’s alive. Apparently she and Miles are tracking down some witch of some sort. It was short and vague- I don’t think she can say much, but just wanted me to know she was still around.” She smiled. “Hey- you guys mind if I crash on the sofa with Chupie tonight?” The dog’s tail started wagging at mention of his name. “The Boss let me fly in ahead of the rest of the crew to see you guys- they’ll be arriving on the trucks tomorrow morning.”
“Sure!” Cass answered immediately for both of us.
“Cass- one more favor? You do have after hours access to the ski lodge, right? My legs are just so stiff from the plane and the cab, I thought we could catch up more in the sauna.” Her eyes twinkled.
“Um, if you want, you can borrow one of my swimsuits,” I offered, since she didn’t have any bags with her.
“Amanda! When have you ever known me to need a swimsuit?” laughed the skinny-dipper supreme.
---
Those Left Behind
“Go, quickly, before it’s too late,” Rana stood apart from the group as they moved through the door. “You, too, little one,” she smiled to the dog she’d saved from the display case. “You’ll find a good home out there.” It looked at her curiously, then rushed after the group, nipping at Cassandra’s heels.
“You too, Gwydion-” she said, quiet enough that only the Magician could hear. “They need their Boss.” The Magician, though startled, didn’t need to ask how she knew. He followed his assistants out, quickly.
“Not you, Miles. You and Maris stay with me. You know that’s not your world.”
“But-” the mystic started to complain.
The priestess drew herself up to full height. “Miles, stop acting like a… chickenshit,” she said, reading the word that popped to the top of Maris’ mind, “and use the talent you’ve been given. I need a Circle drawn around me, big enough for the three of us. Quickly.” She sagged a bit.
Miles drew a piece of silver-impregnated chalk from his pocket and started drawing. As he finished, Rana let herself collapse into Maris’ arms.
“You’re pale,” the assistant said.
“I’m exhausted, Maris.”
Outside the Circle, everything faded to shades of grey, then darkened to black. Miles looked around, then stared at her. “You’ve been holding this place- together-?”
Rana closed her eyes. “Yes, through sheer force of will, since shortly after G’rsh was destroyed. We’re safe in the Circle for a bit, until the last of the power is drawn from the silver.”
“What?!” Miles looked panicked. “How will-”
“We’re detached from the universe now, Miles. It won’t take much power for you to guide us to an appropriate landing spot.”
“But I don’t know how to do a guided jump! The last was random chance!”
Rana smiled faintly. “I’ll show you. It’s not difficult, if you and Maris want to learn.”
Maris nodded, then glared at Miles, who shrugged and nodded as well.
Sometime later, they sat around the fire, listening to the strange birds in the forest. Maris had been delighted to see that incants worked again, and she had Miles had made full use of them to quickly set up the camp.
“The stars are different here,” the assistant mystic said, running her fingers through her now pastel rainbow-colored hair.
“It’s not your old world,” Rana nodded. “I know what you left behind, and you and Miles aren’t quite ready… yet.”
“So we will be?”
“Sooner than you think. I’ll teach you both. And while I do, maybe we can do some good.”
“Will I see Marisol, and, um, the rest of my friends again?”
Rana shook her head. “I don’t know. Their world is- difficult. A special case, especially after the demon’s portal closed. I don’t think we can ever go back there. But there might be ways to send messages that won’t strain the fabric of their reality too much.”
Miles laid back, resting his head on his folded up jacket. “So we’ll never see the Magician again.”
Rana smiled. “Who can say? I can’t see your fates entwining- but you know that sorcerers like us make our own fates.” She felt herself drifting off into much needed sleep, as the next thought drifted through her mind, unsaid- And sorcerers like Gwydion, too…
Fin