In the Starry Realm, the place where the spirit Belinda resides, Hailey and her mentor hold a desperate conversation.
Clad in her misty robe, Belinda replies, “The Inscrutable Bridge cannot take him far. They must be somewhere in the city at least. And we know that the books prefer the blood of the living. Once dead, magic is quick to go. So if he intends to use the books, to empower all of them using Bella’s blood, then she is likely still alive.”
Frustrated, Hailey slams together her shinning book and hurls it off into the endless mists that surround the Starry Realm. It falls out of sight, through the floor, and then continues off in the distance.
“I don’t get it! How can he even make a bridge without magic? How can he block all of my attacks? How does he just recognize all our spells, that’s unfair! And how did he just pull her through like that? None of this makes sense Bel!”
“The Inscrutable Bridge is not something I would teach you,” Belinda replies. “It opens a Gate to the far edges of reality itself and invites a Thing That Lurks Outside within. The distortion is a result of reality and non-reality coexisting,” Belinda pauses before adding, “or trying to coexist.” Then she sighs and her shoulders slump as she adds in a quieter voice, “I do not understand how he redirected it. That should be impossible. But as to how he managed it, well that is my fault. He let my spell collide with the Bridge, becoming fuel for it to grow large enough.”
“But you can’t do that!” Hailey protests, almost in tears. “You can’t just turn one spell into another, it’s cheating!”
Belinda moves to comfort Hailey, placing a hand on her arm. “There is a reason he is the most feared sorcerer ever, child. What he does with magic we can scarcely comprehend, let alone combat.”
Plopping to the misty ground and hammering her fists into the air like a petulant child, Hailey says in a quiet, defeated voice, “But that’s not how this works. That’s not how any of this is supposed to work.” Looking up and meeting Belinda’s gaze she asks hopelessly, “How am I gonna save Bella?”
Looking away at the far off pinpricks of light that surround her corner of the Starry Realm, Belinda’s face seems to visibly age as she answers softly, “I do not know child, I do not know.”
Back at St. Cecilia’s High, the man we met last week sits patiently in the rubble of the library. Carefully leaning his sledgehammer against a table, he calmly begins righting the fallen bookshelves and clearing the scattered debris to a corner. Occasionally he stops to fish out a book, putting it back on the correct shelf when the correct shelf still exists in one piece. When one does not, he walks the books back over to the table and places them neatly atop it.
Pausing as he places an old biology textbook on the table, he says without turning around, “So you’re back. How’d your conversation go?”
Unnerved at the sight of his muscled and topless frame, Eldritch shuffles back quickly looking around in surprise and confusion. Ascertaining no enemies are about and seeing his lack of a hostile movement, she asks, “W-what, w-who are you?”
The man turns around, showing her the blindfold across his eyes. Looking straight ahead, he asks in a measured tone, “You don’t recognize me?”
Sucking in a sharp breath Eldritch gasps in shock. “B-b-b,-”
Extending his hand, the man says, “I’m a helping hand. I said so earlier but you weren’t all here at the time, so I waited.”
“Thank you,” Eldritch murmurs reflexively.
The man continues without giving any sign of hearing her. “You reacted. You heard me. But then, your eyes went unfocused so I assume you didn’t get the chance to realize someone was actually talking to you. Otherwise it would have been rude to ignore me like that.”
“So-sorry,” Eldritch stammers out.
The man turns toward her for the first time and nods. “Apology accepted. You were distracted, however. Seems like you got yourself into a real mess.”
At this, Eldritch collects herself, straightens, and struggles to her feet. “Yes. I did. Um, are you,” Eldritch bites her lip nervously before adding in a rush, “are you here about that?”
“Beacon mentioned you might need a hand. Said he felt something. I’ve learned to trust his intuition, sometimes he sees things even I can’t. Besides, it’s Martin Luther King day next week, always good to blow off some steam before spending time in public.” Nonchalantly he picks up his sledgehammer, hoists it over his shoulder, and asks, “So, what exactly are you dealing with? For some reason it was a little difficult to see what was going on. Things kept changing in odd ways.”
Gulping, Eldritch takes a deep breath in and says, “It’s like this…”
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Just over an hour later, Detective Anderson wishes he were anywhere else.
“So ya know whut’s goin’ on? Partna?” the guard next to him shuffles nervously as he speaks, glancing around as if he expects some calamity to jump from the walls.
Anderson rolls his eyes and grunts out, “Nope. Got an alert. All hands on deck.”
“Ya an wot does that mean?” the guard asks. “Cuz I ain’t even a cop, o’ course ya know tha since ya saw me workin’ tha uni when tha Dr. Doubt attacked. I ain’t qualified fer any a this.”
The detective grunts noncommittally, trying to tune out the guards words. Soon as the man spotted him in the crowd of police, security, and various other shades of law enforcement personnel crowding into the station he latched on, much to the detective’s consternation.
“Keep your hair on,” Anderson says with a frown as he watches the nervous man lift up his wig and rub his bald head. “They’ll tell us when they tell us.”
“Right. O’ course they will.” The guard murmurs to himself, forgetting to put his wig back on his head. Instead, he trades it back and forth between his hands, twisting it between them.
Having enough, Anderson reaches out and grabs it. Deliberately, he places it on the man’s head backwards and growls, “Relax. Nothing to do but wait, so just wait.”
As he speaks, the captain walks into the room. Holding up a hand for silence, he waits until the crowd calms before speaking.
“I won’t mince words, because we don’t have time for it. Here’s what you need to know. Approximately an hour ago, a new threat emerged in the city. Tentatively the classification is Association-Two.”
At this, the guard sucks in his breath. Anderson’s reaction is less pronounced, but still present. Around the room the rest of the cops do the same.
The captain continues, ignoring the reactions. “Sources suggest this thing can and will become Association-One by the end of the night which gives us eight hours to find it and put it down. Fortunately, we’re only here for the finding.”
A sigh of relief goes through the room, quickly replaced by murmurs as the muscled black man from before walks into the room. Hefting his sledgehammer over his shoulder, he raises a hand for silence, which he immediately receives.
“I’ll take care of that part,” he begins. “But it’ll be just me and your local heroes. The Thirteen are causing problems in D.C. and seismic monitors recorded movement consistent with an early migration last week so we won’t have any backup, all the Association response teams are occupied. That means our priority is finding this guy before the situation spirals out of control.”
The captain steps forth and begins resumes speaking. “We know he has at least one hostage, a teenage girl taken from a local high school.”
Anderson shifts uncomfortably at this, glancing down at his phone and seeing a text from his daughter lit up on the screen as if to reassure himself.
“She is likely still alive, but unfortunately in a situation like this our priority has to be neutralizing this threat not hostage rescue.” The captain pauses, glancing nervously over to the blind hero standing next to him before continuing in a more subdued voice. “Before I hand out search areas, you guys know the rules.”
The crowd remains unresponsive, the cops looking around at one another and the auxiliaries seemingly confused.
“Wot rules?” the guard whispers to Anderson.
Detective Anderson looks down at the text from his daughter. Dated just fifteen minutes ago, it says in simple wording that the missing girl is her friend. Glancing back at the nervous man, Anderson finally replies, “A2 and A1 rules. Volunteers only.”
With that, he begins muscling his way through the packed crowd and toward the front of the room. Once there, he walks up to the captain and asks, “What’s my search area?”
Relief in his eyes, the captain asks, “You’re volunteering?”
Anderson puts out his hand and repeats, “Search area?”
Quietly, the captain replies, “I need verbal confirmation, Anderson. That’s the rule.”
Anderson nods and says, “Yeah, sure, I’m volunteering. Now, the search area?”
Behind him, the guard interjects, “An’ I’m volunteerin’ too. Whot’s our assignment?”
“The docks. We’re coordinating with aerial coverage as well, so here’s a list of new communication channels. Napp’s promised us his financial backing so we’re pulling out all the stops. Word is Ginger Snap will be up there too. But she didn’t share a radio frequency with us so if you get an unexpected signal don’t dismiss it out of hand, it might be her.”
Anderson nods and begins to turn away. As he does, the captain interjects, “Hey one second, before you go we need the name of your pal here.” He pulls at his collar for a moment before awkwardly finishing, “You know… in case anything happens.”
“Ah!” the guard replies, slapping a hand on Anderson’s back. “Don’ worry bout it partna! Mah name is-”
A ringing noise interrupts him. Looking to the source of the noise, the trio looks over at the superhero. Apologetically, he pulls out a cellphone and gestures toward his clothed eyes saying, “Sorry. Sounds like this is important. I’ll just be in the other room listening to this text.”
Meditating atop the police station, Eldritch tries to control her breathing. Slowly she breathes in through her nose and out through her mouth. A few seconds pass before she groans in frustration and shouts out, “This isn’t working! We’re no closer to finding her than before!”
In front of her, the dagger transforms into the shape of Belinda. “Patience, Child,” she admonishes. “Locator spells require absolute concentration. You need to clear your mind of all external thoughts and focus entirely on Bella.”
“It isn’t working,” Eldritch argues, “and I don’t have time to learn how to meditate. Is there any easier way to do this?”
Belinda replies, “If we had something of hers, something personally important perhaps? I would suggest a piece of jewelry or clothing but with her taken we cannot hope to-”
“Wait!” Eldritch interrupts. Then, rising to her feet, she lets out a relieved laugh and grabs Belinda’s tiny figure pulling her up with a smile. “We’re idiots!” she exclaims in delight.
“Child?” Belinda asks.
“We’re so dumb!” Eldritch grins. “How did we forget? Bella’s necklace!”
“Oh?” Belinda says confused. A second later, her eyes widen as she makes the same realization as Eldritch. “Oh!”
What has the pair realized? And have they managed it in time to save poor Bella? With her blood draining steadily, can our heroine race against the clock to save her or is Bella’s doom imminent? And what of Belladonna? Might she have something to say about the impending death of her bodily co-habitant? Find out next week in… “The Enchanted Necklace!”