A Fitting Gift - Chapter 5

Twenty minutes later, Lainie threw her hands up and yelled, “You dumbass! What were you thinking?”

“I seem to have heard that somewhere before.” Elle muttered, rubbing her head. They were in the kitchen again. Elle was seated at the table with a mug of strong coffee while Lainie paced back and forth, too angry to sit still.

“That is forbidden magic. The kind that kills people! The kind that gets you killed when you use it!” Lainie snarled. “Did you stop for one second to think that maybe this was a bad idea?”

“I didn’t know!” Elle said for what felt like the thousandth time. “I was so mad at Simon and I just wanted-“

“Burned at the fucking stake, Elle! A crispy critter. A charcoal briquette! Are you understanding the words I’m saying here?” Lainie paced back and forth in the kitchen, glaring at Elle. “Jesus! What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I told you, I didn’t know! You and mom and grandma, you never tell me anything!”

“What’s the number one rule of magic, Elle? The one thing we’ve always made perfectly, abundantly clear?”

“Uh, do no harm?”

“No! The other one!”

“Don’t sign a contract in blood? If someone asks you if you’re a god you say yes? Never accept any… Oh.” Elle winced. “Yeah, that one.”

“Yes, that one! Never, ever accept anything until the price has been negotiated and agreed upon.” Lainie said. She was glowing faintly, a sign that she was hanging onto her temper by a thread. They’d had the windows replaced four times in the last three years. Elle had a hot temper; Lainie’s was positively explosive.

“Well, Selame said she knew you and she seemed to want to help. I thought she was your friend.” Elle said defensively.

“Did she say she knew me and wanted to help, or did she just let you think that?”

Elle tilted her head to the side and considered. “I’m not sure.”

“Stop that! You look like a confused terrier.” Lainie rubbed her temples and leaned against the counter. “Okay, this isn’t a total clusterfuck. I mean, you never actually accepted any of her offers. Right?”

Elle shook her head. “Definitely not.”

“You’re one hundred percent, totally, completely sure?”

“Yes! Well, I think so.”

“Elle!”

“Yes! Seriously! One hundred percent.” Elle said much more firmly than she felt.

“You’re talking out of your ass. You have no idea.” Lainie shook her head. “It’s not a good sign that her mark stayed on your chest. You’re certain it’s the same one?”

“Yeah, lazy snake on a round cushion.” Elle said glumly. “That’s the one.”

“Well, when Captain Alphabet here wakes up, we’re going to have a little chat.” Lainie nudged the unconscious symbologist with her toe. He was hogtied on the kitchen floor, still naked as a jaybird. “And believe me, little sister, he is going to tell me everything I want to know.”

Elle shivered.

“What?” Lainie frowned at her.

“You’re a little scary when you get all witchy.” Elle said. “You totally hulked out on that guy. When you did that fire thing, I thought your white hat days were over.”

Lainie waved that away. “Standard procedure with a symbologist. Burn his glyphs away and he rolls right up,” she said. “He’s lucky that’s all I did. Bastard.”

“Lain,” Elle said softly. “Why were the wards down?”

Lainie didn’t answer right away. “When Simon left,” she broke off, took a deep breath, and started again. “When Simon left, I thought it was the end of everything. All our plans and dreams were just blown away. I couldn’t handle it.”

“So, you took the wards down?”

“No, but I didn’t renew them, either. I thought I’d just let nature take its course.” Lainie’s eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t think they’d hurt you, Elle, I thought… Well, no, I didn’t think. I was selfish. And you almost got killed because of it. I am so sorry.”

Elle got up from the table and hugged her sister hard. “No more of that, okay? I love you, so knock it off.”

“’Kay,” Lainie sniffed, hugging her back just as tightly. “Sorry.”

Elle retreated back to her coffee and said, “Hmm, now who’s the dumbass?”

“Still you.”

“Sad but true.” Elle sighed. “How do we fix this?”

Lainie wiped her face with a paper towel, then grabbed a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with tap water. She whispered a few words and blew a soft breath over the cup. Ice crystals formed on the sides. She turned and threw the frigid water in the face of the bound symbologist. He groaned and coughed.

“Wakey, wakey!” Lainie said brightly. “Let’s chat, shall we? I love making new friends.”

A Fitting Gift - Chapter 4

The Dairy Queen a block down from the house Elle shared with her sister had just opened for the season. Elle stopped and ordered her favorite Heath Bar Blizzard and settled on one of the picnic benches. This situation required major thought and major thought required ice cream.

Nothing in her experience had prepared Elle for the terrible objects Selame had shown her today, despite having lived around magic her entire life. White witches did not turn people to stone. Nor did they curse them or whisk them off to hell dimensions. Did they? Elle knew precious little about the day to day magic stuff that Lainie did, but she was fairly certain none of the concepts she’d heard about today were on the white end of the magic spectrum.

What would Lainie think of that stuff? Elle wondered as she took a huge bite of her Blizzard. Presumably, her sister knew all the ins and outs of the objects housed at Roberts’ Antiquities. Lainie stopped into the store all the time, though Elle had never seen her come home with anything from there. Was the Witches Council okay with Roberts selling the kind of things that Selame had shown her today? Was the Church? Now that she’d calmed down a little, she had no desire to get burned at the stake for the sake of revenge.

Damn Simon. Up until ten days ago, he’d been her roommate, her friend, her big brother. When he had walked away from Lainie without a backward glance, he’d left Elle behind, too. That hurt more than she wanted to admit. But even as angry as she was, the thought of Simon turning slowly to stone or freezing to death in a hell dimension turned her stomach. She contemplated her Blizzard and sighed.

A stinging sensation swept across her skin. Someone was working powerful magic nearby.

Blizzard forgotten, Elle ran for home.

Without a thought for her own safety, Elle raced down the street, across her front yard and plowed through the front door. A man in a black robe was walking slowly up the stairs, chanting softly. The glowing blood-red sigils and glyphs whirling around him marked him as a symbologist, a sorcerer whose power was channeled through shapes and patterns. How had he gotten in? Where were the fucking wards?

“Hey! Asshole!” Elle yelled as she launched herself at him. She hadn’t even reached the foot of stairs before the sorcerer turned and gestured toward her, never ceasing his soft chant. One of the crimson symbols floating around him zipped toward her and struck her squarely in the chest.

Pain like she had never known tore through her. She was vaguely aware of the impact of hitting the floor, and of the light of the sun in her eyes through the open door. Her throat hurt, and only then did she realize that she was screaming.

White light engulfed her and the pain was gone as if it had never existed. Elle scrambled to her feet and turned toward the stairs, ready to attack again but Lainie had beaten her to the punch.

A blinding nexus of power pulsed at the top of the stairs, shining so brightly that Elle would see the afterimage burned onto her retinas for the next few hours.

“You son of a bitch!” Lainie’s voice was thunderous with power. “If you want me then come get me!”

A wrist-thick bar of white light shot toward the symbologist and he was engulfed in white-hot flames. He writhed and screamed in the inferno, then fell to the floor, naked and unconscious. His skin was untouched, but his robe and his sigils were gone.

Lainie became visible within the blazing aurora of pure magic. She flung her arms upward and the power expanded out from her to encase the entire house. The light coated every surface, flared once, and was gone.

Elle’s legs decided to stop holding her up and she sank to the floor. Lainie ran down the stairs and threw herself down beside her sister.

“Oh God, Elle, are you okay?” Lainie hugged her so tight that Elle felt her ribs creak. “Does it hurt? Let me see your chest.”

“I’m fine. I think.” Elle’s chest felt strange. She unbuttoned her shirt with trembling fingers and saw a ragged circle burned into her skin between her breasts. “Shit, look at that.”

“Fuck me. Does it hurt?” Lainie asked, poking at the glyph.

“Nope. Just a little tender. “ Elle studied the symbol again. It looked familiar. Where had she seen that before? Her brain felt numb.

“Thank God you’re all right.” Lanie hugged her again – then thumped her hard on the head. “You dumbass! What were you thinking? He could have killed you!”

Elle opened her mouth to reply and burst into tears instead. She threw herself into her sister’s arms.

“I thought you wanted to die and he was going to kill you and I just didn’t think,” Elle blubbered against her sister’s shoulder. “The wards were down and he was going to use the three Ts on you and I had to-“

“Wait.” Lainie pulled back from her and took her by the shoulders. “The three Ts?”

“You know,” Elle sniffed, “they all start with Trans.”

“Yes, I know what the three Ts are. How do you know that, Elle?”

A Fitting Gift - Chapter 3

Selame gestured to the random smattering of objects on the counter. Each item was marked with the same symbol – a wavy line that bisected a ragged circle. Elle had the idle thought that it looked like a snake relaxing on a rather shabby round cushion. “All of these things meet our needs, I think. We just have to decide which one we want to go with.”

“Okay.” Elle took a deep breath. “What are our options?”

“I thought we’d keep it simple and start with the three Ts: Transference, Transformation, and Transportation.”

“Right. Simple.” Elle said. “Okay, let’s start with Transference. What does that do?”

“I keep forgetting you don’t know this stuff.” Selame shook her head. “Okay, Transference. You remember how I said black witches transferred the rebound for their crimes onto others? That’s Transference. You do something and transfer the magical consequences to someone else.”

“Got it.”

“These three items are Transference foci.” Selame gestured toward what looked like two nondescript ashtrays and one gaudy gold incense burner. “In order to invoke Transference, you set up the spell ahead of time and then burn the hair of the intended victim while you work your ritual. Pretty straightforward.”

“So, what kind of thing would we transfer?”

“Well, like I said, keep it simple. We could cross the path of a black cat, maybe break a mirror. I imagine Elaine likes the classics.”

“You know, seven years of stubbed toes and lost car keys doesn’t really send the message I was hoping for.”

Selame rolled her eyes. “Please. We’d break a magic mirror. We’re not talking about bad luck here, Elle, we’re talking about a major curse. Falling buildings, tsunamis, wildfires – you name it. They wouldn’t be safe anywhere they went for the next seven years.”

“Yeah, it sounds like nobody around them would be safe, either.”

“Well, there’s that. Can’t make an omelet without breaking some eggs, right?”

“I don't think so." Elle frowned. "What’s next?”

“Okay, fine.” Selame pointed to a cluster of four small knickknacks. “Here, we have Transformation. More specifically, these items are talismans of Becoming.”

“Becoming?”

“Well, the essence of Transformation is changing from this to that, right? So, Becoming focuses on the state of change.” Selame picked up a figurine of a cat. “Say you want to turn someone to stone – not as easy as it sounds, by the way – well, there is that time between the state of flesh and the state of stone. A basic Transformation spell would change you from flesh to stone in a heartbeat. Less, actually, if you want to get technical about it. A Becoming can cause that change to linger. Maybe you want someone to turn gradually to stone over a period of a few days or weeks. You’d shape a Becoming talisman for that.”

“That’s pretty gruesome.” Elle said. “So, that statue would turn someone into a cat?”

“Yep. I thought that was pretty fitting for Nicole. She acted like a cat in heat, now she’ll Become one.”

“Yeah. I guess so. What’s next?”

“Ahh, Transportation.” Selame sighed happily. “My favorite. You’re familiar with the Conway kidnapping, yes?”

“Yeah, that’s where that cult stole that little girl right out of her bed and held her for ransom, right?”

“Exactly. The house was warded six ways to Sunday, so they figured there was no way magic was involved. The cops interrogated every member of the staff at least twice and they were certain one of the bodyguards had sold out and grabbed the kid.”

“The family paid the ransom but they killed the girl anyway, didn’t they?”

“Sort of. The morons who worked the Transportation spell pulled her into another dimension but didn’t do the math correctly on the time differential. The forensic witches who analyzed the body said the girl probably starved to death before the ransom note was even delivered.”

“Nice.”

“Anyway, that’s Transportation. Taking what is here and moving it there – and there can be any number of highly unpleasant places. These two items open portals to particularly unfortunate planes of existence. The downside is that there wouldn’t be much flash and bang.”

“They’d just be disappeared forever?” Elle said.

“Well, Nicole would be. Simon might make his way out, eventually. He’s a pretty powerful witch, himself, though he’s not a patch on Elaine. It would be poetic justice to send them both to the same hell.” She held up two thick gold bangles, each with its serpentine symbol etched into the metal. “I’ve got one hot and one cold.”

“Those are portals to Hell?”

“Not as such – just dimensions with hellish conditions.” Selame smiled encouragingly. “So, what’ll it be? You’re spoiled for choices here. It’s a bonanza of revenge, I’d say.”

“Yeah. It’s something, all right.” Elle sighed. “I’m, um, gonna need to think about it a little bit. This is some heavy stuff.”

“Sure, understandable. It’s a tough decision to make.” Selame slipped the two gold bangles onto her left wrist. “But don’t wait too long, Elle. Your sister is running out of time.”

A Fitting Gift - Chapter 2

The next morning Elle was tired and pensive. She had slept poorly, plagued by nightmares. Simon and that stupid slut Nicole slashed to ribbons, blood everywhere, screams, sirens, fire – an endless cacophony of slaughter haunted her dreams. Around dawn, she finally gave up trying to sleep and went out for a run to clear her thoughts.

She limbered up in the cool spring morning. Yesterday, when she’d been filled to the brim with righteous anger, killing Simon and Nicole had seemed like a perfectly justified course of action. That by itself was a little scary. After a night of bad dreams, she couldn’t recapture that fury, that lust for vengeance. By the end of the first mile, she’d decided that maybe Simon had done them all a favor by taking the little tramp and vanishing. As she rounded the subdivision and headed back toward the house, she had half of a “time heals all wounds” speech prepared for her sister.

Feeling Zen and peaceful, she slipped back into the house and headed for the kitchen to make some coffee. She was surprised to see Lainie sitting at the kitchen table, staring into her teacup as if it held the secrets of the universe. Elle wouldn’t have been all that surprised if it did.

“Hey, big sis,” Elle said with careful casualness. Maybe if she acted like everything was okay, it actually would be. Lainie was the elder twin by almost seven minutes and never let Elle forget it.

“Hey.” Lainie’s voice was soft and curiously lifeless. “We should talk.”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“I want you to go away for awhile, Elle.”

Elle blinked. “Away?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I need some time alone. A week, maybe two.” Lainie didn’t look up from her tea. “I just need to meditate, to center myself. It’s a witch thing.”

“It’s bullshit,” Elle snarled. “I am not leaving you here alone. You need me.”

“What I need is for you to go, Elle.“ Lainie’s voice was still that disturbing monotone. “You can’t be here.”

“What do you mean I can’t be here? I live here!”

“I know, I just-“

Elle cut her off. “No. I’m not going anywhere. I don’t care if this is some bullshit witch thing. I am not leaving. This is the first time you’ve left your room in ten days, and it’s to tell me that I should just fuck off somewhere? I don’t think so.”

“Please, Elle. I need this. Will you just think about it?”

“No.”

Elle got up and started the coffee pot so she wouldn’t slap this melancholy shadow of her beautiful, vibrant sister. All of the fury of yesterday came roaring back. Simon had torn Lainie apart and for what? A newer model and a change of venue? Beneath the anger and the worry was fear – would Lainie ever be herself again? Or was this pale, sad-voiced stranger a permanent replacement? When she glanced over at the table, Lainie was gone.

An hour later, Elle walked through the door of Roberts Antiquities for the second time in two days. She threaded her way through the labyrinthine junk piles and found Selame sitting at the counter once again. This time, however, she had an array of strange objects in front of her.

“That is quite a variety of bizarre stuff.” Elle said by way of greeting.

“Good morning to you, too. You look like hell.”

“Thanks. I slept like crap then had a fight with Lainie.”

“Over your plans for Simon?”

“No. She wanted me to take a vacation or something. Leave her alone to meditate for a week or two, she said. Can you believe that?”

“Yes, I’m afraid I can,” Selame said softly. “When this news about Simon becomes public, Elaine will be seen as… vulnerable by other practitioners.”

“Vulnerable?” Elle said. “You mean they’re going to attack her?”

“Some of them, yeah.”

“Fuck! This can’t be happening. I thought Lainie was the biggest badass around!”

“I’m not sure badass is the right term. She has the most raw power of any of the witches on the eastern seaboard. Normally, that’s protection enough. However, offing her would be one hell of a notch in the belt of a certain type of practitioner.”

“You mean black witches.”

“Not just them. Sorcerers, Satanists, demonologists – even some of the Fae. Anyone who practices the darker shades of magic would be thrilled to see a powerful white witch bite it. Even a few of her peers might not be sorry to see her go, as their own lights shine brighter without her around, you know?”

“God, I can’t believe this.” Elle slammed her fist on the low counter, rattling the jumble of objects. “She knew she was going to be facing down these assholes and she didn’t tell me.”

“Or maybe she didn’t plan on facing them down at all.” Selame said in that same soft voice.

“Yeah. Maybe.” Elle’s throat was tight. She hadn’t wanted to think about that possibility.

“Chin up, Elle,” Selame said briskly. “I think if we work this right we can get Simon and Nicole what’s coming to them and keep Lainie out of the line of fire, too.”

“How’s that?”

“Well, say the hammer comes down on Mr. and Mrs. Island Shamanism. Elaine is the logical choice for whodunnit, right? You’re just her pathetic untrained sister, what could you possibly do?”

“Thanks for that, yeah, but I see what you’re saying.”

“So, we make an example. I’m talking about some Old Testament-style retribution here.” Selame smiled. “Something flashy that sends the message that crossing Elaine is hazardous to your health.”

A Fitting Gift - Chapter 1

Marriages fall apart every day.

Elle had never been married herself, but she knew the statistics. Half of marriages end in divorce, and, as far as she could tell, the other forty-nine point nine percent just ground on to the bitter end. Maybe there was a tenth of a percent of happy people out there somewhere but she had one hell of a hard time believing it at the moment.

She paused outside of Roberts Antiquities, wondering for perhaps the thousandth time if she was doing the right thing. Lainie had brought her here once, which was the only reason she could find the store now. Without an invitation from Roberts himself, or having once been brought here by someone he’d invited, it was impossible to find this shop. Lainie talked about portal manifestations and inter-dimensional shifts, but all that magic mumbo jumbo had gone in one ear and right out the other. Elle wished she’d paid better attention.

As she hesitated outside the shop, the door swung open and a young man stepped out. He gave her a polite smile and held the door for her. She took it as an omen, thanked him, and went into the dimly lit store.

Roberts Antiquities looked, to the uninitiated, like a cross between a thrift shop, a dusty attic, and a wicked witch’s yard sale. If there was organization here, the casual observer would not see it. An old porcelain music box rested on top of a battered wooden table which was propping up a worn silk screen. A pair of costume jewelry earrings was carelessly tossed onto a book with a wordless leather cover. The entire store was a similar jumble of weird, battered junk.

Elle knew that the arrangement of the items was deliberate and maintained with great care. As she made her way to the back of the store, she touched nothing – and was careful to make sure nothing touched her. Sometimes, the things in this store had more personal initiative than the average inanimate object.

A long, low counter ran along the back of the store. At one end sat an ancient cash register and at the other, a dark-skinned young woman sat sorting through a pile of tiny gemstones. She had a curious device on her face. It looked sort of like the illegitimate offspring of a pair of goggles and a microscope.

Elle politely cleared her throat. The young woman held up an imperious hand.

After a moment, the woman gave a put-upon sigh and said, without looking up, “What?”

“Yeah, hi,” Elle said. “Is Mr. Roberts in?”

“No.”

“Oh, because I wanted to talk to him about-“

“He’s not here.” The woman said firmly, still sorting her gems.

“Do you know when he will be here?”

“No.”

Elle took a deep calming breath and wrestled her temper into submission. Any person who worked in a place like this was not someone to piss off, but she had no time for the run-around, either.

“Look, I know you’re busy but if I could just have a few minutes of your time,” Elle began.

The sitting woman snarled a curse and tore her strange goggles off. Then she blinked up at Elle, confused.

“I’m not Elaine,” Elle said apologetically. “I’m her sister Liselle.”

“Huh, I’d heard you two were twins but that’s just uncanny.” The woman looked her over with an odd intensity. “Even your auras look the same.”

Elle smiled as if this were a compliment. Who knew? Maybe it was.

“I’m Selame, by the way,” the woman said. “Why do you need to see Roberts?”

Elle hesitated. This was the touchy part. If Selame could read her aura, however, it was best to be truthful.

“There’s an… issue.” Elle said. “With Lainie.”

“An issue.” Selame said flatly.

“It’s complicated.” Elle looked around the shop to avoid the other woman’s sharp gaze.

Selame snorted. “Yes, I imagine it is. Your Lainie is the most powerful white witch on the eastern seaboard. With great power comes great complications. So, why don’t you just spit it out?”

“Fine. Simon left her.” Elle heard the fury in her own voice. “He told her he was in love with his apprentice and that they were moving to Bermuda to study island shamanism together.”

“Whoa.” Selame said.

“Yeah.”

“So, what is Elaine going to do about it?” Selame’s expression shifted from shock to anticipation. “I bet they’re in for one hell of a ride. A witch scorned and what not.”

“That’s the complicated part.” Elle said. “She’s decided she’s not going to do anything.”

“Wait, what?” Selame drifted back toward shock. “Nothing at all? She could vaporize them with half a thought.”

“It’s part of the whole white witch thing. Do no harm, threefold law, yadda yadda yadda. She loves Simon and wants him to be happy, et cetera, et cetera.” Elle sighed. “So, yeah, nothing at all. Except lock herself in her room and cry. Oh, and stare in the mirror and wonder where she fell short. She’s doing plenty of that.”

“Well, son of a bitch.” Selame said after a moment.

“My thoughts exactly.” Elle said grimly. “And I’m not taking this lying down. Lainie didn’t get all the talent, you know. I’m just as strong as she is, right?”

Selame gave her a hard look. “What are you thinking, girl?”

“I want to use my powers or whatever. My magic.” Elle said. “If Lainie can vaporize them with half a thought, so can I. And, unlike her, I actually would. Right now, in fact. I thought Mr. Roberts might teach me how to do that.”

“You may have the same talent as Elaine but you lack her training – and her common sense.” Selame shook her head. “That three-fold law is some serious business that you do not want to fuck around with. Say you did vaporize those two. Once the spell was complete, you’d likely go up in smoke yourself – and possibly take an entire city block with you. Destructive forces like that are nothing for amateurs to be playing with.”

“Look, they can’t just get away with this! I have to do something!” Elle cried. “Witches nuke people out of existence every day! It’s all over the news and you know it.”

“Black witches nuke people out of existence every day. And they do it by transferring the rebound onto other people – human sacrifices who die the death meant for the witch. Are you going to pick out six innocent people to murder because your sister got her heart broken?”

Elle said nothing.

“Look, honey, I know you want to get those assholes back for what they did, but killing them isn’t the way to go about it.” Selame said gently. “Even if you did manage it, an untrained kid like you would get caught and burned for it. Then how would your sister feel?”

Elle stayed silent, glaring at the pile of gemstones on the counter as tears slid down her cheeks.

Selame sighed and got up, stretching. “Look. Come back tomorrow. I’ll think about what we can do that won’t get us nuked out of existence but will still fix those cheating bastards. Deal?”

Elle sniffed. “Deal.”

Mouse's Tale

Mouse hurried down the street toward Roberts Rare Books. She had 3 minutes to get to the store before she missed her opportunity to open for the day. Open precisely at 8:00am by the watch Mr. Roberts had given her when she was hired. Close and lock precisely at 5:00pm by that same watch. If she didn't have the store open at 8, she had to leave the store closed for the day - and forfeit her pay. Mouse was never sick and she had only been late once in three years. The loss of a day's pay had been a harsh lesson.

She rushed past the sex shop that had opened up a few months ago next to the book store, idly returning the friendly wave the owner gave her as she passed. Mouse always thought it was odd that a sex shop opened so early but the black-haired, surgically enhanced, 40ish woman who owned the shop almost always opened the store before Mouse went by in the morning.

Just as the watch hit 8, Mouse turned her key in the lock and went into the store. The bells on the door jingled merrily as the door shut behind her. She counted her drawer, made sure everything was tidy - although she had left it that way the night before - and waited for the day's first customer.

Customers were strange at the book store. They came in, went directly to a shelf, got what they wanted and left. They never browsed, and they paid exact change, always. They didn't speak, and she had never seen the same person twice. Since Mouse wasn't good with people, this was just fine with her. She settled in to read the newest romance novel she'd picked up.

A couple of hours later, the door opened and Mouse glanced up from her book. The lady from the sex shop next door strolled in with a smile.

"Hey there - it's a slow day, so I figured I'd come introduce myself. I'm Mandy." She said, holding out her hand to Mouse.

Mouse gave her an awkward smile and shook Mandy's hand. "I'm Mouse, nice to meet you."

"Nickname, huh? Cool." Mandy glanced around the shop. "So, how do you guys stay in business?"

Mouse blinked. "What do you mean? We sell books and people buy them. Pretty straightforward."

"I've never seen anyone come in or out of this store," Mandy said. "I know this area of the city is a dump but the rent isn't free."

"We have a pretty steady business, maybe you're busy and don't see them come in?" Mouse said.

"No, really. I've never seen a customer enter this store. Just you coming in the morning and leaving in the evening. What gives?"

The door opened and a man came in. He walked through the store, navigating the shelves as if he'd been there a thousand times, picked a book and came to the cash register. He handed Mouse some money and walked back out the door. The transaction had taken maybe 45 seconds.

Mandy watched the door close then said, "I stand corrected. I have seen one customer enter this store."

Mouse shook her head. "We have probably ten or twelve customers a day, and each book sells for a lot. I mean, some of them can go for several thousand dollars."

"Wow! What kind of books are these, anyway?" Mandy walked over to a shelf that stretched from floor to ceiling and ran her finger across the backs of the books. "There's no words on the covers, just numbers and symbols. What does that mean?"

"I'm not sure. I'm not supposed to look at them or touch them. Mr. Roberts says they're too valuable for the help to go messing around with."

Mandy laughed. "Nice. And I suppose you never have looked. Right?"

"Well, Mr. Roberts said not to." Mouse said. "So I didn't."

Mandy smiled and selected a book off the shelf and leafed through it. "There's just numbers and weird pictures in here. Funky."

Mouse scurried out from behind the counter and plucked the book from Mandy's hand. She very carefully put it back on the shelf.

"We're not supposed to touch them. I don't want to get fired."

"Okay, kid, we won't get you fired." Mandy looked around. "Don't you think it's weird that I never see these customers you say come in all the time?"

Mouse shrugged. "I don't know. I guess so."

The bells on the door tinkled as it swung open, and a woman walked purposefully into the store. She hurried through the shelves, grabbed the book she wanted and tossed some money down on the counter. She headed for the door and Mandy was right on her heels. They walked out and the door shut behind them.

Mandy walked right back in with a puzzled look on her face.

“She wasn't there."

"What?"

I mean, she walked out and I followed her and when I got outside, she wasn't there. I was alone on the sidewalk."

"Okay..." Mouse said.

Mandy gave her a look. "I'm not crazy, Mouse. She - was - not - there."

Mouse sighed. "Fine. She wasn't there. If she wasn't there, where was she?"

"That is the 64 thousand dollar question, isn't it?" Mandy said. "You walk out with the next one."

"I don't know, I'm not supposed to leave the store during business hours." Mouse looked around uncertainly. "And if I do, I'm supposed to lock up and not come back in until the next day."

"Come on! Who's going to tell your boss? There're no cameras in this dump, so it's not like he'll know. Just walk out and come right back in like I did."

"Okay, I guess that'll be fine." Mouse said. "I mean, sure."

Mandy smiled and hopped up on the counter to sit and wait for the next customer. A few minutes later, an old man walked in. After she took the man's money, Mouse ran around the counter and followed the man out the door.

The sun was blindingly bright after the dark confines of the book store. Mouse held her hand in front of her eyes for a moment then looked around. The street was empty. The old man was gone.

Mouse walked out into the street and looked both ways. She saw no one. Mandy had been right.

Mouse went back to the store and pushed on the door. It didn't budge. She pushed harder, but the door did not open even a fraction. She knew she hadn't locked the door as she came out, but she got out her key anyway. The key slid into the lock and refused to turn. Mouse wiggled the key a few times, then took it out and put it away.

"Mandy, open the door!" Mouse hollered, pounding on the shop's door. The door did not open. If Mouse couldn't open it with the key, maybe Mandy couldn't open it from the inside either.

"I am so fired." Mouse sighed. She went next door to Mandy's shop to call Mr. Roberts.

Mouse slipped into the sex shop, studiously avoiding looking at anything on the shelves. She picked up the cordless that was on the counter and dialed Mr. Roberts’ number. His answering service picked up and she gave a brief account of what had happened, left the number that was on the back of the phone, and hung up to wait.

A few minutes later, the phone rang. Mouse pounced on it.

"Hello? Mr. Roberts?"

"Is this Renee?" She recognized Mr. Roberts' voice from her interview. A combination of relief and dread washed over her.

"Yes, this is Renee. Sir, I..."

"You left this girl in the store?"

"Yes, sir. We were just trading places for a few minutes because..."

"You got curious. The girl noticed something was off and told you."

"I'm sorry, I know I'm not supposed to..."

She heard Mr. Roberts sigh. "Wait outside the shop. I'll be there."

Mouse ran out of the sex shop and stood outside the bookstore, occasionally tugging on the door or trying the key. Just in case.

A few minutes later an old man in a tattered brown coat and hat walked down the sidewalk to where Mouse was tugging on the door for what seemed like the thousandth time.

"It won't open." Mr. Roberts said. "The nexus closed when the beacon abandoned it. It won't reset until after sunrise tomorrow unless I give it some help."

Mouse boggled at him. "Beacon?"

The old man sighed and said, "Let's see if we can reclaim your friend. She may have ceased to exist when the nexus did."

Roberts fished a huge key ring out of his pocket; hundreds of keys of every size were on it. He sorted carefully through the jumbled mass and picked out a key that looked like the one Mouse used to open the store every morning. He inserted it into the lock and cocked his head to the side. He mumbled a few words and then turned the key.

"Well, let's see," he said.

He pushed the door open and went in, Mouse on his heels. Mandy was not there.

"Well. She's gone. It happens." Mr. Roberts shrugged and turned to go.

Mouse gasped. "It happens? How does it happen?"

The old man gave her a put-upon look and said, "Do you remember what time you left her? The exact time?"

Mouse shook her head. "I think maybe 10:30ish or so. Right around there. Why?"

Mr. Roberts waved Mouse over to a shelf of books and said, "She may be in one of those. That's the shelf for all the portals that existed in the metaverse around that time. Start reading, I guess. When you find the right one, call again and we'll retrieve her imprint from it. Shouldn't take longer than 3 or 4 years to get through them all."

The man tipped his hat to Mouse and walked to the door. "Also, I'm docking your pay for the time you were gone today. Don't do it again."

Mouse gaped after him as the door shut, the little bells tinkling. Then she turned to the shelf, selected the first book, and started reading as fast as she could.