Philadelphia, Earth
He had been awake for an hour, lying immobile on his stomach beneath a pink comforter, the weight of it resting against him. His hands were tied behind his back, but the lamp illuminated the sheets tucked neatly around him. He didn’t know who’d been caring for him. He hadn’t seen anyone pass by the open door, but he kept his attention there, waiting.
There wasn’t much else to see. A bookshelf filled with children’s books rested beside the door. Above him, he could see plastic dolls legs and stuffed animals. The pillow beneath his face had white trim. When his own stench wasn’t overpowering, it smelled like a perfume.
Something was very wrong. He smelled like cooked meat and his skin crawled.
The pain was constant. He knew he shouldn’t move, but he grew desperate, rocking side to side.
It was a poor decision.
His charred skin stretched, sending shockwaves through his body. Even the rise and fall of his breath felt miserable.
He must have been in an accident. All he could remember were dreams about being somewhere strange. And where was Elisabeth?
The bed was warm, too warm. He ached to throw the covers off. He tried to turn on his side, but the movement had him sucking air. After what felt like hours, a clock in the adjoining room erupted, its bells ringing a mind-splitting percussion.
“Hello?” he yelled.
A whip-like sensation slashed across his back. Clamping his mouth shut, he closed his eyes and swallowed the pain, pushing it deep inside himself. Down, down into the darkness. He didn’t want to scream. He wouldn’t scream.
He’d fractured his knee once, but that pain, at least, had been rooted to one spot. This was something else entirely. When it started, it spread, like a fissure erupting. Face down in the pillow, he shoved his pain deeper and deeper until he was calm. He steeled himself to call out again. He couldn’t just do nothing.
Just as he was about to yell, the door swung out. No one entered and he didn’t hear any footsteps, but he was sure he’d seen something. Jamie gritted his teeth and tried, again, to undo his bonds. Curling his hands inward, he used his fingernails to grasp the cloth. His pinky fingers and the back of his hands were painfully hot. It made his efforts unresponsive and slow. Struggling, he tried to keep his eyes on the door.
Something leapt onto the bed beside his face and he flinched, his back a wave of agony. Focusing on the pain, he grabbed it like a drowning man lunges for driftwood.
If he let it go, he was lost. He counted in his mind, carefully willing the sensation to dissipate, slow and controlled. One, two, three.
Warm fur brushed against his forehead and he opened his eyes. With his head deep into the pillow, he could barely make out white paws. Moving his face, he saw the rest of the creature’s fur was a distinct orange color.
Agatha’s cat, he thought, remembering the animal.
The cat purred loudly and Jamie regretted not petting him. It might not be much, but the cat had stayed with him when…
He remembered! One minute he had been running back to tell the old woman that Elisabeth was gone and the next he was attacked by…by what?
It wasn’t a dream!
Elisabeth had been with him in that place, in those strange hallways that looked like their apartment.
Where was she?
What had Bekka’s grandmother done to him?
Magic? the thought struggled to be born. Could he believe that?
None of that stuff ever seemed real. The magic he knew was street stuff in New Orleans. He and his friends had spent hours watching old men in fedoras draw the right card for tourists.
There was that time in the park, he thought. He closed his eyes as Scottie curled up against his forehead. Jamie could still see the fortune-teller’s face. It hadn’t been a Romani woman or a voodoo queen. Instead, the guy who’d done his reading had been an ordinary looking man.
Remembering helped him ignore the pain.
Jamie had met him in the park, just an old guy reading the paper and tossing crumbs for the pigeons. Having walked his sister to her basketball game, he’d needed to kill some time. The old timers played chess in the park and Jamie could sometimes get a game.
When Jamie drew closer, the man folded his newspaper gently on his lap. He was old, older than anyone Jamie knew. He had a Santa Claus beard that covered his chin. His body was bent and withered, but he had bright eyes.
“You play?” Jamie asked.
The man shook his head.
“Chess, I mean chess. Do you play?” he clarified, shooing the pigeons from the path with his Chucks. The bird sanctuary wasn’t far and he could hear the distinct cries of ducks and herons.
The man smiled, the wrinkles around his eyes scrunching together. “I play, but I don’t have a board.”
Jamie motioned towards the rectangle at the man’s side. “What’s that, then?”
“Ah,” he whispered, baiting the hook. “Nothing you would be interested in.”
Jamie asked if he could sit.
“World’s your oyster. You young folk can do as you please.” For a few moments, they both sat silently watching the pigeons.
It was summer. Neighborhood children ran by and Jamie heard a car backfire. The bench was cemented to the earth beneath the largest of the oaks. The tree was massive, its spreading limbs provided a soothing shade in the July sun. A few of the birds had taken to the branches around them, cooing and chirping.
Breaking the moment, Jamie asked, “So, what do you have there, if it’s not a board?”
The old man nodded, “Nothing you’d be interested in.” Gesturing after the children, he said, “You should be with them, playing your games.”
Jamie grinned. “I’m twelve! Too old for tag. I came to play chess.”
The old man looked at him carefully. “I play, but I told you before. I’ve got no board, so we’re out of luck.”
“So what is that, then?”
The old man put a hand on the cardboard. “Sometimes I can tell the things that will be, or might be, or things that already were. It depends,” he smiled to take the sting from the words, “but it’s not for little boys.”
Jamie raised his eyebrows, “I don’t believe in that stuff.”
The man opened his mouth in surprise.
Jamie was about to apologize when the man said, “Ah, then you wouldn’t want to hear my tellings, anyway. Go back to your play, boy, being young is something that only happens once.”
“You’ve got it wrong,” Jamie said, feeling slighted. “Being young sucks. You don’t want to do the things you’re allowed to do. Everything else you’re too young for. I think when you get old, you just forget that.”
The man’s brown eyes widened in surprise, “Well, if that’s how it is, I must have forgotten a lot.” Extending a wrinkled palm, he continued, “Name’s Artemus.”
“Mine’s Jamie. Is that really your name?”
“It’s the one my friends call me.”
“Ok, Artemus. How about showing me? I won’t promise I’ll believe you, but it’ll kill some time.”
The old man nodded, but made no move to open his board.
After a few moments Jamie asked, “So, are we going to do it, or not?”
Artemus waved a bony arm and Jamie fell silent. With his hands now resting limply in his lap, the old man sat staring across the park. His collared shirt billowed gently with the breeze and the cuffs of his slacks waved feebly.
For several minutes, Jamie fought the urge to say something, if only to break the silence. His sneakers etched a pattern in the dirt. He wondered if the man hadn’t fallen asleep with his eyes open.
Picking up the board, Artemus motioned to Jamie to give him room. The cardboard was bigger than it seemed, probably twice the size of a chessboard. Instead of familiar rows of black and white squares, it was covered in different sized circles, like a child had randomly traced rings over its surface. There were no words on the board, only small shapes. They were different than the shop signs in the Chinese Market, but they looked similar.
“What does that mean?” Jamie asked gesturing to one of the symbols. The circles and signs were in white and the back of the board was black.
“It depends,” the man replied, his voice pitched low like he didn’t want to be overheard.
Jamie glanced around, but their area of the park was almost deserted. He could hear the sound of Elisabeth’s game, but the rest of the children had left for home. The man reached into one of his pants pockets and drew out a set of dice. Jamie couldn’t see anything special about them. They looked just like the set he had in his Monopoly game. The old man handed them over and motioned at the board.
“Let ‘em go there and we’ll see if you’ve got anything interesting in ya.”
Holding his hand inches from the center of the board, Jamie let the dice fall.
In the quiet of the afternoon, the impact was thunderous. Jamie looked around at the clear sky in confusion.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The man pointed to a die that had landed on the outskirts of one of the smaller circles. “That one,” he started, his lowered voice, “means you will travel. It will be a cold place, far from here and empty of what you know.
There are many things you will learn and while you might leave, you will always return. Your fate is to be intertwined with another. A female who will stand by you.”
“My sister,” Jamie offered.
The man shrugged, looking irritated, “You’ll die…”
“What?” Jamie blurted.
The man sighed.
“Sorry,” he said. Jamie didn’t understand why he was so upset. Obviously, this guy was just making this crap up off the top of his head. Still, he was curious. “I would like to hear the rest.”
Artemus closed his eyes and let his hand hover over the dice. Jamie watched closely, noticing how his fingers shook ever so slightly. Nothing else moved, even the birds from the sanctuary were silent. The old man took a deep breath and continued, “In this cold place, you will be found and found again. The First will know you for yourself, before it is your time. You will die...”
“Come on, man!” Jamie said, standing up. “Why do you have to go back to that?”
He shivered in the hot, July air. There was definitely something weird going on. The man moved to close his board. Jamie grabbed his arm. It was thin, like chicken bones covered in newspapers.
“I’m sorry,” Jamie said quickly. “I do want to hear, it’s just that you said…”
The man shook his arm and Jamie released his grasp. “Do you want me to finish?”
Jamie nodded and sat.
Artemus placed his hand over the board, his fingers hovering, slowly tracing and retracing the circles in the air. “Twice you will be tested and you will not fail, you will lose. The third time, a death will bring gold, though you will never spend it. Your blood will spill when the city falls.”
Jamie waited quietly for him to continue. After Artemus had spent a few minutes staring at the board, Jamie had asked, “Is that it? Blood, death…” Taking a deep breath, he grinned at the old man, asking, “Do you always tell such happy fortunes?”
Artemus drew his gaze from the board, his eyes peering closer. His forehead seemed more wrinkled than before, like a topography map. The old man asked, “You’re from here?”
“For the last couple of years, anyway. We moved around a lot. My mom’s in the military.”
Artemus nodded to himself, “And your dad?”
Jamie frowned. “Why’s that important?” He wondered if the old guy was some kind of drunk. His speech was slow.
“I’m just curious,” the man replied. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“He died when we were little,” Jamie heard himself telling the old man. “I can’t remember him.”
“Oh,” Artemus ran a hand through his short silver hair. “I’m sorry.” Pausing, he admitted, “I’ve never told quite like that before. It was like I didn’t know the words before they came out of my mouth.”
“Never knew I was that interesting,” Jamie offered. He thought the old man looked a bit sad and he wondered if he did have Alzheimer’s. “Look, Mr.,” he said, “It was a good fortune. I’m sure all those things will happen sooner or later. I mean, I not sure about all the dying and blood, but…”
To Jamie, the man seemed even more sorrowful. Without looking up, he put his dice into his pants pocket. He closed his board, using his free hand to push himself off the bench. It was late and shadows from the tree covered his face. “It was nice talking to you, Jamie,” he said softly. “I need to get back.”
Jamie remembered him walking away, an old man lost in the dark of the overhanging branches. He’d told his sister everything.
Now, lying with his eyes closed, in a bed that was not his, Jamie wondered again where his sister was. He didn’t have time to give it much thought, though, because the bedroom door swung inward.
“Scottie, off of there with you,” Agatha said. She was wearing different clothing, a red sweater and jeans. Dark circles hung beneath her eyes. She pulled the stool closer to the side of his bed. “Jamie. I am so sorry.”
He looked at her. In his mind, he could see the blue web firing from her hands, his skin blackening and burning. And pain, horrible pain, covering his back, arms and legs. She’d done this to him!
Scottie jumped onto her lap. She put her cane by her side and stroked the animal. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said, the lines about her mouth crinkling in distress. Her voice quavered as she spoke, “I didn’t know it was you, Jamie, I would never have…”
“What did you do to me?” he croaked. His throat felt like he hadn’t spoken in days.
Agatha looked crestfallen, “Oh, Jamie, you wouldn’t believe me, even if I told you. I…”
Grimacing, he forced the words out, “I want to know.” He pressed his cheek against the pillow beneath him.
It took her some time to put her thoughts together. “I know you won’t believe me, Jaime, but after all that’s happened, I guess I don’t have much choice. Listen and don’t interrupt me. I will answer some of your questions. I’ll try my best to answer all of them.”
“What I did to you is called a casting. It is majic that is used to bind and kill.” For a moment it looked as though she wanted to pet his head, her hand rising slowly. Lost in thought, she said nothing, her hand hovering, until she dropped it in her lap.
“It was something I learned a life time ago, something I used to protect my friends and family. Something that I only used when I thought my life was in danger. Back in that room, I didn’t know it was you.
Where we were, Eganene, is a very dangerous place. There are things there that you can’t imagine. That casting I used would probably have killed most of them.
There was something in the room before you ran in. While you went to look for your sister, it attacked me. It was a monster, Jamie, a Creeling.
They are nasty creatures. I cast a spell to get rid of it and then you ran into the room. I panicked, reacted, I should never have...I know...but I didn’t have time to think, to figure out what you were. I thought you were another trap, another beast sent to kill me.
But you are alive, Jamie. I don’t know how or why, but it is a miracle. Honestly, it is. You should be dead, but you’re not.
The Creeling was young. It must have been nesting there. They live in packs, Jamie. The others would have come back. They would have killed you. There wasn’t time to think. I brought you back here…”
“Where is here?”
“Bekka’s apartment.”
“But I thought…”
Agatha shushed him, “Please. Just listen. I cast another spell on you, a binding, and went back to look for Bekka and Elisabeth. I didn’t get far. The storm outside the apartment was too much and there was no sight of her.
I turned back and the building was on fire. It took all my strength to get you and me back here. And now…I don’t know what to do for you. As I told you, you should have died. Your injuries are extensive, far passed my ability to heal.”
The old woman took a deep breath, “I’m so sorry, Jamie. I’ve been trying, but I don’t know how to heal you.”
She shook her head, her earrings spinning as they reflected the lamp light, “I’m not sure. It has been a long time since I’ve been back to Eganene. There is so much I don’t remember. We need to find you some help.”
“My sister?” he rasped.
“Your sister and Bekka are still in Eganene.”
“You left them?”
The old woman’s shoulders pulled inward. “There was nothing I could do, Jamie. The building was burning! I was exhausted from fighting the Creeling and casting the net. I hadn’t been back in Eganene long enough to draw back my Power. I was lucky I was able to get us back here.”
Jamie bit the inside of his mouth. His sister was alive. He would have known if she wasn’t. “How long?” he asked.
“We’ve been here for two days.”
“What!”
“Please. You need to rest. You’ve been in and out of consciousness, never staying with me for long.”
“Why can’t you heal me?”
She shook her head, “I’ve tried, Jamie, but your world all but kills my Power. I can feel the faintest threads, but it isn’t enough. I can Travel back with you, though.”
Jamie’s heart was thudding in his chest. He needed a doctor. He needed a doctor two days ago.
Why hadn’t she taken him there in the first place? He glanced up at her face, but she was lost in thought, staring at the cat’s fur as she stroked it.
Of course, she hadn’t taken him to the hospital. They would have reported her to the cops and arrested her, either for hurting him or being crazy. She could have just dropped him off somewhere and then called it in. Someone would have come to get him.
Maybe he was hurt too badly to be moved. But if she thought he was going to die, why had she bothered bringing him back?
Before he could ask, she put a finger over his lips. “Jamie, please, let me explain. You have two options.”
He nodded, his eyes meeting her grey ones.
“I have to go back to find Bekka. I can take you back with me and see if I can find you a healer. Or… you stay here and I take you to a doctor.
I’ll try and find you help. My guess is that your doctors, here, will fail. They’ll never understand your wounds. What was done, will continue to grow worse. It has been years since I have been back. Delphi has changed from when I lived there. I’m not sure if I can find help for you, but I will try.”
Jamie moved his dry lips from beneath her fingers, “I don’t know.”
“I know it is a difficult choice,” she continued, “but one you must make.”
He tried to shake his head.
“Jamie, please listen. It is your choice, yours alone, but I have to go back. Bekka is there and I have to find her. Elisabeth, too. If we go back, I think I can find help for you, but we need to leave. Now. I will take you to the hospital here if you want, but I can’t wait any longer. You are getting worse and Bekka…Bekka is in grave danger. I must find her.”
The old woman stood and picked up her cane. Scottie jumped onto the bed beside Jamie and the sheets stretched beneath the animal’s weight. He grimaced in pain.
Agatha noticed and scooped the cat up. “Jamie,” she said, heavily. “I’m going to collect some things I need. When I get back, you need to make your decision.”
He watched her walk away. He knew little more than an hour ago, but it seemed to him that Agatha was at least genuinely worried.
Still, she had been less than truthful with him in the past. What she had done to him would get her arrested and there was no way she was going to let that happen.
She could have left him in Eganene, he thought.
And he’d be dead.
Of course he didn’t trust her, but he could see the pain on her face. She was sorry for what she did. He would have to hope that she was telling the truth about trying to help him. It wasn’t like he had a whole lot of options.
Surprisingly, he wasn’t concerned with the fact that she wanted to take him to another world. Whether he believed in Eganene didn’t matter, he and his sister had obviously woken somewhere they’d never been and he could attest to the truth of the old woman’s magic. If what had been done to him could be healed in Eganene, he would have to go. And Elisabeth was back in that place. Once he was healed and his sister was safe, he could worry about the other stuff.
Agatha returned, carrying two large duffel bags, the straps secured to her cane. With a surprising lack of grace, she heaved them to the floor and looked at him. Scottie followed her inside, gracefully avoiding the luggage.
“If you are coming with me,” she began, “we’ll not be going back to that building. Most likely it’s been burned to the ground. I can take us to a small house that lies on the city’s outskirts. Here, the town is called Blue Bell.
In Eganene, it has the same name. It was a rural town when I left. In the summers, the flower covered its fields. I had friends that lived there once and there is a chance they may live there still. It was a farming town, but there was a woman who was skilled in healing. I think she could help you.
It will be a long trek back to the city, but if you are well, then we two can travel better than one. It’s too much to risk jumping between worlds again. They would find us in no time. Third time’s the charm.”
Jamie watched Agatha lift her hand to his forehead and did not pull away. She asked, “Will you come with me?”
Without hesitating, he nodded.
The trip back to Eganene was surprisingly anticlimactic. Despite his injuries and despite himself, he was excited to witness more magic. In her small apartment in Philadelphia, Agatha untied his bonds. She sat gingerly beside him and pulled his head onto her lap, the other hand holding her cane and duffle bags. Scottie rode on her shoulders.
Jamie watched carefully as her lips mouthed words too low to hear and her brow wrinkled in concentration.
Immediately, they were in Eganene.
He was still lying with his head in the old woman’s lap, but instead of the bed, his body was now resting on cold, wooden boards. Jamie closed his eyes against the new pain as Agatha gently moved his head to the floor.
Free of his weight, she rolled him slowly onto his stomach. He couldn’t help screaming. She shushed him softly and covered him with a blanket from her bag. Blood ran from his wounds. Jamie did his best to remain conscious.
Think of something else, he told himself.
He was lying face down on the floor, wood grain and broken splinters against his cheek. Cold air caressed his face from an opening that resembled a window. Beside him there was a small wood stove, broken pieces of furniture surrounded it. Everything was unfamiliar, except the smell of smoke.
He wore a black sweatshirt with matching sweatpants and there were heavy socks on his feet. Agatha must have changed him while he was unconscious.
When she was finished securing him, she gripped her cane.
“Jamie,” she said. “I’m going to go find help. If there’s anyone here that can heal you, I’ll find them as quickly as I can. When I go, I can cast the stasis binding. You will grow no worse while I am gone, but it will leave you immobile and defenseless against anyone who might seek to do you harm. If I do not, you will grow worse. I cannot choose for you. It is your life and your decision.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“Twenty minutes, a few hours, a day. I have no idea. I haven’t been here for years. When I left, this was a thriving village full of kind people who would have taken us in.”
She gestured to the empty room. “Much has changed. No one has lived in this house for years. If there are people in this village, they may not wish to be found. It could take some time to find them and more to convince them to help.
Please understand. Things have happened here...but the Eganese are a good people. I promise you, if there are people to be found, I will find them. And I will return to you as quickly as possible.”
She was quiet as he thought.
Chills cascaded down his arms and across his back. Jamie knew his wounds were bad. The waves of hot and cold were signs of fever.
But to be bound stranded and motionless?
“Don’t do it.” He wished his voice were stronger. He sounded as though he were begging.