LAST WEEK: Renna’s self-study in the dark halls of the magical library have proved fruitful for her comprehension of magic. Her new friend Sera seems distracted by something, and Job fears the witchy twins in town are involving her in a dangerous scheme.
Read the previous installment here. See all installments here.
Night had fallen deeply before Renna and Job’s paths finally crossed. Renna had spent a day that was at first invigorating and fulfilling, as she dove through the pages of the Book of Abramelin. Somehow, whether it was the author’s presentation or the translators’ interpretation, Renna could easily comprehend what the writings and diagrams were trying to explain. Even the parts that Renna didn’t understand yet (and there was a fair amount in there) didn’t bother her in the same way that it did when she was training with Job. It instead felt like the more advanced stages of a massive puzzle, something she would undoubtedly decipher once she had gone through all the steps before it.
She had even accomplished what could be considered “real magic.” Many of the elementary examples of spellwork were presented with geometric diagrams, whose designs were heavily influenced by numerology. One of them in particular had caught Renna’s attention, an unassuming five-by-five grid that was called a Sator’s Square. Renna knew about “magic squares” before this point, but she had no idea that the “magic” part was to be taken so literally.
As she copied many of the squares into her notebook, she felt an exhilarating feeling flowing inside her—a rushing stream that had been nothing but a trickle when she was meditating or stretching and breathing as per Job’s instructions. It made her think of those large plastic dispensers that churned out cereal or granola when you lifted the lever to open the spout, and yet there was always a struggle to get it to pour out right, leading to an aggravating battle that you did not want to have just to acquire breakfast. Instead of tussling with the finicky spout, this felt like simply opening the top of the dispenser and easily taking out as much as she wanted, with no fuss and no mess. Her long-held belief about there being an easier way had been gloriously validated.
Compared to the sensation she felt now, the magic Job had assured her she felt back then were like faltering sparks and sputters of a fire that couldn’t be lit properly. Perhaps Job needed a clear, empty mind and slow, calculated motions to draw this out for them, but it seemed that for Renna, magic came to her when her imagination was fully engaged, and she was able to immediately create what came to her in her mind. She was so sure of it now that she was feeling almost ready to explain it all to Job …
Or at least, she was ready to practice explaining it all to Finnie, who had been a wonderful companion for the past couple days. However, she had been absent today without warning, and by the late afternoon it had been putting a damper on Renna’s enthusiasm. Any time the anxiety of her being in trouble welled up inside Renna, another feeling came forth and calmly explained that Sera had just gotten tired of hanging around her and had left her alone, but was quite fine otherwise.
The two opinions bickered back and forth in her mind until it ruined Renna’s concentration on her studies, and she decided to head back for the day. She had waited a little longer than usual at the library, just in case Finnie had been waylaid by something and was still on her way, but Renna found herself stuck in the procrastinator’s purgatory—the fear that as soon as she left, Finnie would come and miss her, which made her wait longer, but if she wasn’t coming at all, then Renna would be waiting for nothing.
Finally, Renna accepted the disappointing end to an otherwise good day and walked home in the gathering dusk. When she arrived back at the house, however, Job was not there as they usually were, and nor was Gibson. After waiting for another short while, Renna figured they were late in closing the café and headed over, where she only found the latter. Gibson was tied up in a serious-sounding phone call, but he instantly put on his worry-free face again when he hung up. Job had hurried out to go find Renna for some important reason, and in their haste had headed to the library first, and likely arrived after Renna had left for the house.
Gibson had still not closed up the café, so Renna went back to the house by herself. After picking apart a haphazard dinner made from the café’s leftovers, she decided to stay put until Job came back. It made her think, maybe for the first time, of the convenience of having a cell phone. They had not been particularly necessary at Inglenook, where the Dads tended to use the kids as fast, albeit sometimes distractible couriers of information. Neither Job nor Gibson owned one either, so now they were stuck running after each other in the dark. Finally, Job came through the door, a bit bedraggled but otherwise glad to find Renna.
The first question out of their mouth was if Renna knew of Sera’s whereabouts.
“No, I didn’t see her at all today, it was strange …” Renna immediately realized that she had given away more than she had resolved to keep secret about her contact with Sera. Job didn’t seem to notice, or care.
“That’s not good. Those dark twins came into the café today and I overheard them talking about plans that involved her. They’re definitely witches, and they’ve been using Serafine in pursuit of some malicious goal. One of them was also responsible for the dangerous object we found with the children on the playground.”
“We need to go find her then,” said Renna, no longer caring about pretenses. “We need to help her!”
Job nodded. “That’s why I was late in getting back here—I stopped by both Mister Morris’s and Shane’s houses. The former was empty for all that I could see. And a very inebriated Shane could barely tell me anything, but I don’t think she was there either. So they took her somewhere else.”
Renna’s sense of dread was growing. Did the twins take her back to wherever they were staying? How would they find out before it was too late? Was there some sort of magic that could help?
“I’m sure there is, but most unfortunately, it’s beyond my repertoire,” Job answered her when she asked. “I’m sorry. Despite being a teacher, I’m not as useful as I should be in these situations.”
“Don’t be worrying about something like that now,” Renna said, dismissing their self-pitying apology. “We can’t do what we can’t do, so let’s focus on what we can do.”
“Right.” Job joined her efforts. “If we widen the scope of our objective, we need to either deduce Serafine’s location or the twins’, as they will be together. It’s somewhere within this town, and relatively secluded, if they are performing some kind of ritual. They are on a strict time limit, but they have also been planning this for a while. They’ve probably either had a location set up in preparation, or they’re having to use the most convenient spot that fulfills their requirements now that their time is running out. And furthermore, while we as outsiders don’t know much of the locality, they’re in a similar boat. We just … need to figure out where that is, despite the narrowed-down options,” they said in an exasperated tone as they came to the caboose of their train of thought.
Renna did her best to keep them thinking. “Alright, that’s something. Is there anything else they said that could possibly give us another lead?”
Job traced their mind back to the thread of the conversation that had strung itself through their ear. Suddenly something jumped out at them. “Of course! They mentioned someone named Abra … Abracadabra? No, that’s ridiculous, it was more of a name …”
“Abramelin!” Renna broke through Job’s concentration with a triumphant shout. “Of course! That makes sense!” Job stared at Renna, waiting for her to explain, but she was already in action mode. “I know where they are! Come on Job, we need to get back to the library pronto!”
“The library? But I went there already when I was looking for you!” Job said to Renna’s back as they pitched themselves out of the door and into the dark front yard.
“Right, so they must have gone in after you left!” Renna called back to them. “They’re going to use the book!” While many of the dots were still unconnected in Job’s mind, everything had come together in a flash for the younger witch. A few pages she had come across in the tome had appeared to deal with possession, though she couldn’t tell if the context was demonic in nature. The details must have been highly technical or particularly obtuse, as the normally excellent translation had faltered in this section, and the writer seemed to abandon the cause for a later time. Perhaps the twins had some knowledge of the original text.
The duo’s initial adrenaline-fueled dash only lasted a few short minutes. After catching their breath, they were able to better pace themselves and made it to the gates of Ebon’Tourelle in record time. Not a single window was lit from the outside, but something made the witches feel that the esteemed house was holding one more secret than usual.
The beams of their flashlights cut through the wide darkness of the front room and slid down the rows of bookcases, but all was silent and still. From there they pushed open all the doors they could, and jiggled all the doorknobs of those they could not. Their urgent calls for Serafine and Finnie were replied to only with their echoes. Neither Sera nor the twins could be found anywhere. Once they came to the room where Renna had made her study, she found that the Book of Abramelin had been absconded with, just as she had suspected. At this point, she cursed herself for moving around so carelessly in the house—if she hadn’t disturbed so much of the dust that had thinly blanketed the floor, they might have had some tracks to follow.
At last, they had to admit that their search was a failure. Renna wondered despairingly if they had simply taken the book and gone somewhere else to do the ritual. But at the same time, that wouldn’t make sense—as Job put it reassuringly, they had said that the ritual location was “all set up,” meaning they could not simply move from one place to another at this point. And if they had needed the book, why not take it earlier, if they hadn’t been planning to do it close by? Besides, if one is in the market for secluded spaces in which to perform sketchy rituals, Ebon’Tourelle was prime real estate. The manor was hidden amongst a grove of old trees in the deceased part of a dead-end road, and while folks who had the keys could pass through, the gate was otherwise imposingly shut to dissuade any curious nose-pokers.
As if all that wasn’t enough, the house was inherently magical. Even the uninitiated could feel it if they opened their minds enough. The ancient boards and joists of the house shifted and creaked like a slumbering giant, making the house feel more alive than others, as if the wood were still growing over the decades. The air that flowed through the rooms and passages was surprisingly fresh, despite there being no opened windows that Renna had seen. One could chalk it up to a strong draft that would naturally form in such an elderly house, but it was the kind of thing people said with an uneasy smile when they tried to explain away something unexplainable.
In spite of all this, there wasn’t a single sinister ritual site to be found, and both Renna and Job felt the hopelessness of being sent back to square one. It was Job that picked up the torch this time, though.
“Alright, we at least know they were here, and took the book. If they were on foot, that gives them a limited range from this central point to move …”
Renna shook her head at this. “Sorry, but I still don’t think they would have left here. I don’t really know how to explain it, it’s just a feeling.”
Job looked at her, trying not to let their impatience show. “I understand, but you can see as well as I can that they’re simply not here. We need to keep moving if we still hope to protect Serafine. Maybe we should see if any of the other people who live on this street saw them coming into or out of the house. That could give us a time frame or a direction…”
Once again, something in Job’s offhand muttering sparked an idea in Renna’s mind.
“We can ask someone. Or something, I guess you could say.”
Once again, Job looked at Renna, waiting for an explanation, while knowing they probably shouldn’t expect one.
Renna turned down the hallway, trying to retrace the steps she had walked with Finnie.
“And uh … we might need some canned sardines or something.”
***
“Those are cats. Literally just cats.”
“They are librarians and you are insulting their intelligence!”
The glowing eyes followed the back and forth of Renna and Job’s argument, mewling lowly, showing their displeasure for the noisy visitors who had barged into their presence.
Renna stepped forward, as she had seen Sera do last time, and offered up the compass gadget she had received from Solomon back at Inglenook. She had thought it over as much as she could; she didn’t have anything that directly belonged to Finnie, so they couldn’t track her in that manner, but then again, that felt like a more canine method. Things around here were based on symbolism and hidden meanings. Renna still had little to no idea of how the librarians’ search request system worked, so she was taking her best shot at it now. The gadget represented a bond of friendship to Renna, an object that was imbued with a personal connection. Furthermore, as best she could reason out, the compass might signify finding what was lost (Finnie), and the flashlight component could represent illumination … to help find what was lost (Finnie). She deigned to explain this to Job before they got there, though, as she knew their patience was already being tested.
They both watched in silence as the cat with the slinky body and the monocle mark furrily slithered its way down the book piles and retrieved Renna’s submission, bringing it back up to the council to deliberate on. Renna had no idea how long this would take, even if it were only to prove a failure. She didn’t like the idea of trying to pacify Job for too much longer anyhow. But when she turned back to them, their snarkiness had faded and they were now transfixed, watching the twirl of tails up on high. Their student had turned away from them again before they spoke to her.
“I hope it works too. I don’t like the idea of leaving our fate in the hands—paws of some cats, but if you trust them, I’ll trust you.”
The sudden gift of heavy responsibility made Renna much more nervous. “You do remember that this might, probably, maybe won’t work at all, right?”
Job shrugged matter-of-factly, hands tight in their pockets. “Magic can sometimes give one the illusion of control and bodily power. All we can really do is reach out. Some people become overwhelmed at how little we are able to control in the mundane, physical world, so they turn to the spiritual world in search of answers, or truth, or enlightenment, or whatever else that will quell the fear they’re running from. I can’t recall a time in my life when I’ve felt that magic has given me absolute control over a situation. I’ve been taught the virtues of faith, which is a kind of … insolent hope.”
Renna wasn’t sure if that was more positive or negative, but they were surprised at Job’s admission of their lack of control. Up until now, control seemed integral to Job’s persona. They wore it in many different fashions: discipline, self-reliance, and sometimes the mulishness that surfaced when they were asserting what was and was not the proper way for things to be done. It seemed there was a point when they let the façade slip just a little bit—and they became a much more sympathetic conversation partner.
“If it’s any consolation, you’ve always seemed like you were in control.”
“I try as much as I can. Futility is no excuse for inaction.” Job gave a wry smile. “Sometimes you’re spinning the threads that weave the world together … other times you’re waiting on a bunch of stray cats to help you with a matter for the police.”
A shrill catcall pounced on the end of their joke. The feline ensemble had resumed their observation of the humans, and the monocle cat moved down the stacks till they were eye-level with Renna. She looked back at the dapper soul that gazed into hers, and tried to reach out to it with the same energy she had felt growing in her over the past few days. “Please …” she said without speaking.
“My friend is in trouble. Help me find her.”
There was an eerie, wavering flash as the eyes she was looking into vanished. Renna shuffled her feet as she felt movement below, and beside her Job nearly tripped from the same sensation. The two of them rushed to the threshold to see where the cat had gone and quickly moved aside as two, three, five more followed suit. It seemed that this was a job for the whole staff. Once the humans had frantically followed the cats out to the main room, they were bewildered as the felines all flew in different directions, scattering down hallways, across bookshelves and through the cracks in the stacks.
“Which one do we follow?” Job called out as they struggled to track all of them.
Renna already had one marked and was chasing after it. “I don’t know! Just try and watch at least one!”
There were a few minutes when all that could be heard was the clattering about of two humans who were trying to move quickly through an environment that did not encourage it, which was made clear with skinned shins, banged knees and caught breath from nearly tumbling down flights of stairs. Finally, they nearly collided as they came to the end of their chase and found all the cats gathered around a small alcove entirely built of books. It was clear that some of the volumes had been very recently moved about, and Job’s flashlight found the outline of a trapdoor on the well-scuffed wooden floor.
Without hesitation, Job and Renna grabbed at the handle and pried it up, revealing a staircase that led directly to a door at the bottom. Aside from the stairs, the space itself would barely accommodate the two of them, let alone the mess of cobwebs and dust. Job was down in a flash and inspecting the door. Renna turned round to the cats, who had returned to silent observation.
“Thank you so much. I owe you guys, for everything, not just for this. I’ll be sure to bring something nice for you all next time.”
Whether they understood human speech or not, they seemed pleased by this promise, and gave meows of good luck before lurking back into the library so softly they seemed to leave no pawprints in the dust.
Job was fiddling with the handle of the door, which by the looks of it was even older than the house it was hiding under.
“I don’t think they used any magic to lock it, it’s just blasted finicky,” they grunted. “That signplate above says that this leads to the annex. I had no idea there even was one, but it makes sense now. It would definitely be secluded, enough so that Serafine wouldn’t hear us calling to her from here.” After a minute that felt more like an hour, the stubborn door gave and their success was heralded by a clammy draft from a pitch-black hallway.
Job let their flashlight beam shine forth, and Renna set off quickly in its bright path. Job urged her to hold up, but her determination was pushing her forth. Some parts of her mind registered how shiveringly creepy the passage was—stone and hard-packed dirt, narrow like a secret tunnel a refugee would have to flee down to avoid being hunted—but her adrenaline dampened any fear. Or the fear fed her adrenaline, it was hard to say. She only had one thing in her mind right now.
Job finally stopped her short after they had been walking longer than anyone could hold their breath.
“Stop, right here.”
“We don’t have time.”
“True, but if you insist on setting off that trap, it won’t matter.”
Renna looked around, confused. Job firmly pulled her back a few steps and pointed to a stone on the right wall. It was then she could see scratchings of chalk that ran down to the floor and across it. The lines originated from a strange sigil drawn at about chest-height. It was mostly made of geometric shapes, and something about it struck Renna as familiar. Job was already rummaging in the small shoulder bag they had brought along.
“We can’t be sure what grief it will give us. Unfortunately, it’s not something I recognize, so we’ll just have to take the safest and slowest route to rendering it harmless. This isn’t quite the same as the binding magic I used on the catalyst back then. Instead I’ll just disrupt and disperse whatever energies have been hemmed up inside the sigil …”
Renna had scarcely heard them over the sound of her own mind, now whirring and twirling about as things she had read just recently came bursting to the surface of her inner lake, like cresting whales from the deep. It was just a puzzle. A clever one, but once you saw the trick to it …
“Do you have chalk?”
“What?” Job saw Renna hovering uncomfortably close to the sigil and reached out to pull her back. “Don’t get any ideas, let me handle this. This is far beyond a novice’s ability.”
Renna turned back to them, her eyes shining. “No it’s not! It’s actually pretty simple when you look at it. I just need chalk or something else to draw with, and I’m pretty sure I can take this thing out!”
Job’s gaze hardened on her. “Don’t let your excitement get the better of you. I know we’re close, but that’s why we can’t afford to be hasty or presumptuous. Above all, we need to focus. Keep a calm, clear mind. This is where you need to bring out everything that I’ve taught you thus far.”
Renna was a short step away from telling Job how she was trying to do just that, but what she was trying to bring out hadn’t been learned from their exasperating meditation sessions. She felt sure now that her time spent with the Book of Abramelin had prepared her for this. If the twins had used the same book to create it, it made all the more sense. Renna decided she had to put all her chips on the table.
“I thought you said you trusted me.”
“I do, and that comes from a sound knowledge of what you are capable of, and what is still beyond your grasp. I know you are brave and incredibly smart and cunning, but your eyes are still barely opened to the wide, wide world of magic—you don’t even yet know what you don’t know.”
“So you don’t trust that I’ve been doing anything worthwhile in this library? That anything I’ve been learning outside of your watch is pointless and misguided?”
This finally made Job hesitate. Their snowy eyes looked into Renna’s, which were now shining with amber light.
Job suddenly felt younger, with the chubbiness still around their youthful cheeks and their towhead still a curly mess. They were looking at the same eyes that knew sadness and fear, and with these dark materials, they kindled a fire so purely determined and confident that it hurt to look at directly. Job was forced to recall this feeling, and something inside of them shifted, largely but imperceptibly; like a glacier calving ice under the duress of the indomitable sun.
Job silently pulled out a nub of chalk and tossed it to Renna, and then turned their gaze away. Renna wheeled about and reconfirmed what up until now she had been more sure of than her own name, but responsibility was now lurking over her shoulder and checking her answers. She shook it off and allowed herself to know.
With quick movements, she added a stroke here, changed a symbol there, and slashed out a digit in the center of the sigil. Renna started back as she felt a sharp shock, like she had suffered a static discharge. But as soon as it happened, the strange tension that had filled the air dropped and settled to the floor, scuttling away with the draft. It was then the two witches realized the very magic around them had likely been feeding off of their heightened emotions. But they could turn back to each other now, and a small nod and a reproachful smile was all that was needed to make them set off in step again, across the chalk line that was now less meaningful than a playground hopscotch course, and down the tunnel that seemed to lead them further away from the world.
***
The heavy trapdoor was raised with the combined effort of Job and Renna, slowly enough to minimize any creaking. They had finally arrived at the end of the long underground corridor, where a short set of crumbling steps led up into what appeared to be a large warehouse space. Piled high around them were stacks of old books, cardboard boxes, and various furniture covered in long linen sheets. The air that had remained strangely fresh within the halls of Ebon’Tourelle did not extend to this edifice; the dust in each breath clung to the insides of their noses and mouths, and made it difficult not to start wheezing. The air had remained stagnant for so long that it felt thick on their skin.
None of the bright moonlight from outside was able to enter the many windows around the upper part of the room. They were all covered with heavy cloths, and some were crossed with wooden boards for added endurance. It was simply impossible to hear anything from the outside, which was probably nowhere near another house, judging by how long Renna and Job had walked away from the library. They were in an annex building, a place for objects to be stored and forgotten.
What allowed the duo to see anything in the first place was the flickering glow coming from one corner of the room. Even after they had crawled out of the hole, however, they couldn’t see past the collection of furniture and books, which formed a tight maze around the room. Sounds of murmured chanting and shifting about came from the direction of the light source, and with a motion, Job and Renna set off as quietly as they could towards it, trying to figure out which route to take without alerting the twins that they were there.
Unfortunately, they failed half of that goal as soon as they snuck around the first corner. Czaronica was lounging on a covered-up armchair, right in the middle of the next corridor, with a small light to read a book that she had open on her lap. She snapped it shut and stood up, brushing dust off of her pants.
“Pretty good, I didn’t actually hear you open the trapdoor. Noita had ten bucks on you guys not finding the place at all, but I had faith in you two! And now we both benefit from your success, eh?” Her mocking smirk shone bright at them through dark lipstick.
“Where’s Finnie?” Renna stepped forward, ready to take her on, somehow. She wasn’t sure how witches fought, but she was also sort of assuming that Job would take the lead.
“Finnie? What a cute pet name. And that’s a pretty stupid question, you can tell she’s like right over there. Do you read a lot of pop-fiction novels? Really though, that’s such a cliché thing to ask.”
“I’m assuming you’re here to stop us?”
“Something like that, we’re not quite ready yet. Since you seem to still have all your fingers and toes, I’m guessing you somehow dispelled the present for you down in the passage. Pretty good, but I wonder if you’ll have time to bypass all the ones that still lie between you and your friend …”
Renna was gearing up to try and rush past Czaronica, but she figured Job had a more level-headed idea. When she turned back to them, however, Job had just calmly finished taking off their outer shirt, with a tight sleeveless tee allowing their tattoos to impress the onlookers. They did a couple quick, simple leg stretches, and then without a word to either Renna or the darker girl, made a precise, running leap at one of the tall stacks of boxes, bounding off of it before it gave way from the force, and then was suddenly well over their heads. They dropped down with a confident plop in the passageway next to them, and took off at an incredible pace towards the lights.
Both Renna and Czaronica required a few seconds to recover from their dumbfoundedness.
“Well,” Czaronica stammered, “I, uh. I guess there’s not much point in trying to slow you down now.” She turned about and gave Renna a disconcertingly friendly head nod. “Come on, let’s hurry over before all the good stuff goes down.”
When the two witches reached the far end of the annex, the scene before them gave them the impression that some amount of stuff had already gone down. A large magical circle drawn on the ground had been scuffed by Job’s boots, and an altar built upon a table nearby was now lying scattered across the ground. Job was kneeling next to the limp body of Sera, in the center of the runic rings. As Renna approached, fearing the worst, Job noticed her presence.
“She’s fine. However, she’s in a torpor right now.”
“Is that another word for unconscious?”
“Her mind is currently in a spiritual space, which leaves her physical body helpless. It’s a state that mediums must be in to allow possession, but there’s no spirit to take over right now.”
“Well, that’s better than having a demon on our hands, right?”
“Infinitely so. In my haste to stop that possibility, I interrupted the ritual, which trapped her in this state. Normally it’s best to let her come back to herself naturally, but while she’s in torpor, there’s always the risk of something else deciding to jump on the opportunity, so to speak.”
“What do we have to do?”
“We’re going to close this ritual space and repurpose it. Keep an eye on her while I do that. And your other eye on those two wicked brats over there. Maybe a fist too.”
While Renna had been talking with Job, Czaronica had gone over to pull her sister out of the far corner of the space, where Noita had taken shelter when Job had burst suddenly and aggressively onto the scene. Renna hadn’t taken Job’s suggestion of a fist seriously, but a swelling of anger made her reconsider when she saw that Noita was clutching the book that had disappeared from the library earlier. While she couldn’t own a library book more than any other person, it felt like seeing a favorite teacher fraternizing with another student.
“I’m so impressed with your bravery,” Czaronica snarled as she yanked her sister to her feet.
“What was I supposed to do! They came flying down out of nowhere! I thought you were supposed to stop them at the entrance!”
Czaronica’s usual catty replies failed her. “… You owe me ten bucks.”
“What do we do now?” Noita whined to her.
“Call this one a bust, I guess. The tattooed hottie over there seems like they could knock us out with their stare alone right now. Come on…”
“Hold it right there.” Job’s voice came like a gust of frigid wind, chilling and rattling the bones of all the girls present. They spoke as they moved about, adjusting the various magical implements stationed around the ritual space.
“You go this far with hellishly dangerous magic and then you think you can waltz off?” They wheeled about, brandishing the end of a candle at them. “I need answers. The details of the ritual you used. The intent of your spell. Anything else that will help us fix this near-disaster you caused.”
Czaronica gave them a withering look while they tried to pry Noita’s grip off of her arm.
“Just asking for a friend, but like … what exactly are you going to do to us if we do just peace out?”
Job’s stare became icier than Renna had ever seen it. If she thought that Job had been stern to her before this moment, she now knew that compared to their current attitude, they had been downright comical. She wondered for a moment if a demon hadn’t found someone to possess here after all.
“You neophytes aren’t the only ones who know wicked magics. And aren’t afraid to use them.”
At this utterance, even the perpetual snark that made up most of Czaronica’s personality seemed to freeze over, and neither twin made any more movements towards the exit. Renna was as scared as either of them, but her peripheral vision caught the movement of an otherwise dormant body.
“Job, look!”
All eyes fell on Sera, whose limbs had suddenly begun to twitch and shift about. There was an exhale of relief from Job and the twins, for very different reasons. However, the movement that had first brought reassurance, in the next sickening moment, filled everyone with dread. Sera had begun moving more and more, in ways that normal humans don’t typically like to arrange their limbs. It was like watching a rag doll attempt complex yoga poses, although Renna was pretty sure there wasn’t anything yogis taught about sliding across the floor inexplicably, as if attached to strings.
Everyone backed as far away as they could and looked on in horror as Sera—or whatever had control of her body at the moment—pulled itself to the edge of the table, where it came to a dead stop. Without any of the others even daring to breathe, for a few moments everything in the environment was absolutely, painfully still.
And then, with a flash, all of the candles relit themselves and turned a bright, luminous blue.
The surprised gasps of the gathered audience elicited a laugh that was both harsh and bubbly at the same time, like silt and rocks popping about in a tumbler. It was cracked and rough, and drawn out ‘till it stuck to one’s ears like black tar. Sera’s arms lashed out behind her and grabbed the table edge, flipping her body in a neat arc to land sitting on the top. They assumed a posture of charming condescension, knees tightly folded, one hand lightly supporting the chin as it pointed laconically at the onlookers. Sera’s pupils couldn’t be seen, but the whites of her eyes still managed to blaze with arrogant, egotistical provocation, as if they were daring someone to tell them the best joke they would ever hear.
The tongue came first to wet and part the lips before the drawl that crawled out of the underworld resounded throughout the shuddering walls of the annex.
“Weeeeeeellll-eee. Now lookit here, what a cute buncha little boos crawlin’ about! Been so damn LONG since I’ve gone an’ stretched my legs … Or whos’soever legs these are, y’knowwhatimsayin!” The intruder’s cackle was a cascade of broken glass.
Renna was positively frozen in fear, but Job managed to take a commanding step forward.
“Identify yourself, Spirit, and state your purpose.”
The thing ground Sera’s teeth. “Saints alive! That anykinda’way t’be addressin’ someone now, whodi? An’ before I even gone and had my liquor!” It looked around, snatching up a dark glass bottle next to them. Then, discovering it to be only full of scented oil, the contents were dribbled onto the ground with a look of distaste.
“I ask again: who are you.”
The spirit had begun idly picking at the other items on the table, tossing them aside with lazy flicks of Sera’s hand. “N’teven’smuch as a good cigar here … Not a minute into livin’ and it’s already hell on Earth …” Finding nothing else of disinterest, it cast one blank eye towards Job. “Settle on down, whodi. That kinda hot tone an’ nasty manners s’what got me called up here in th’firs’ place.”
Upon noticing the witch it was talking to was set in a readied, defensive stance, the frown flipped back upside down. “But now that I see ya, y’ain’t the same bumblin’ drunkard that’s always out messin’ with our poor boo here. Got more class on y’dress anyhow.”
“Wait, do you mean Shane?” Renna was surprised she had found the courage to speak up.
Sera’s body twisted about on the table to face towards Renna, who recoiled a few inches to where her back met a heavy stack of boxes forming the wall behind her.
“Weeeeeellll-ee, where’yat little darlin! You a sight nicer than our rood boo with th’ whitey locks over yonder! Yeh, that’s’im. Sonbitch never find th’endofa bottle, come on home, be scarin’ our little boo outta’er wits! No proper environment for a good child. So’s when things done get prickly, we come on out an’ remind ‘im to be layin’ off.”
Things started to come together in Renna’s mind. “Did he happen to come home tonight very drunk?”
“Shaken up as a box o’ bees ‘e was,” it said with a snarly smirk. “Was’boutta gon’ give ‘em what for when those two cutie-boos over’ere come an’ grab her away. Was a mite disappointed, I say, I never get th’ chance to ride such a fine horse, an’ lay into that greasin’ fool!”
“Well then,” said Job, causing a look of deep irritation to pass over Sera’s face, “I can gladly say that danger has passed. You are no longer needed here.”
The spirit lolled Sera’s head over her shoulder, letting her braids drag along the table behind her as they gave Job a belittling leer. “Oooooh, so thasshow’tis, eh? Jus’ wanna go an’ send me off before y’even offer me some liquor or smokes? Now if that ain’t jus’ the height of bad manners. Seems someone don’ know how to treat the authority round ‘ere. Not e’ven the good Boss Bouc hisself!”
At this moment, the Boss, as he identified himself, ceased talking. Job had accomplished this incredible feat by regaining the frigidly cold demeanor they had assumed shortly before the Saint’s appearance. Their aura had become so intense it seemed to be affecting the very air around them; the silver sigils on their arms shimmered and flickered about, like heat rising off a raging fire. As Job uttered words that spun themselves into magic, the inked lines were stuck with white light. Everyone’s eyes were drawn to the phosphorescent illumination that pushed back against Bouc’s blue candlelights.
Renna had never seen magical energy take shape outside of the body before, and witnessing it now, she could not help but be astounded. She could see it sailing through the creases of Job’s shirt, scuttling down their pants and through the curls of their hair. This was Job in their full power, their pride as a witch, and no matter how amazing Mab had been, no one could say that Job fell short of being her prized pupil.
There was no hesitation in the edict that was leveled at the previously lackadaisical spirit, whose pupil-less stare still managed to radiate imperious distaste.
“Whatever you choose to call yourself, rest assured I know very well how to deal with demons that choose to keep their hosts hostage.” A brief flash from Job’s glowing tattoos perfectly complemented their threat.
A grimace of dangerous mischief came from Boss Bouc and plastered itself onto Sera’s face.
“What pretty words fr’a rude mouth. Now it weren’t my intention to go an’ get physical, but I’an’tever one t’back away from an invitation. Demon killer, you call yis’self? Fancy yis’self an exorcist? Oh I seen plenty of y’kind in centuries past. Thinkin’ all spirits’re the same, that they can go an’ wave their crosses an’ censers ‘round me an’ I’ll just skip righ’n back t’ Hell where I belong! Welllllllll-ee now … I ain’ quite done enjoyin’ my time in the mortal frame o’ life here, so I’ll be more’n pleased t’spend a few relievin’ you of those delusions.”
To punctuate his last point, the Boss snatched up the bottle he had emptied earlier and brought it down on the edge of the table, sending a torrent of broken glass scattering to the floor—but not landing on it.
As if someone was replaying the scene backwards on video, the glass shards stopped in midair, and then returned to the point of impact, where they began to spin in a tight cone above the shattered neck where the Bouc held it. It formed into a small whirlwind of broken glass, and looked like it could shred anything unfortunate enough to end up in its path.
Sera’s paint marks had changed again—they now formed the outline of a skull around her face, and bones along her arms and ribcage, all which glowed with luminous blue menace. Renna was finally witnessing a Saint, and one in their full fury. However, with equal terror, she saw that Job still viewed the thing as a demon that had to be exorcised through force. Despite the impending danger, they hadn’t backed down an inch, seeming to become even more resolute, holding their glowing arms up in a practiced fighting stance.
There would be no winner, however this battle ended. Renna squeezed her eyes shut, not from fear, but from desperation in trying to find a way to end this chaos. She cursed herself for not having the power to stop them, to be as impressive as either Job or Bouc and pull out some amazing spell to bring about the peaceful end she desired.
Job was right—at this stage, magic was just an illusion of control, and how useless it was for that. They had called it insolent hope; she wondered how many times before Job had faced a situation as treacherous as this, and yet still believed themselves to be lacking in ability. And to think their pupil had been arrogant enough to think she didn’t need them. Borrowed, begged or bartered for, Renna was willing to do anything for power at this point. Power she just didn’t have …
Or did she?
There wasn’t time to question or doubt, to even think for a moment of all the reasons why this couldn’t work. She turned her mind towards all the training she had done with Job up till this point—the work that always felt so tiresome and pointless, but she knew would push her into the mental state she needed right now.
No clouds in the sky, no ripples in the water, no wind in the air.
Feel, without being touched.
A shadow flew across the still surface.
“Are you sure we should be leaving now?” Noita whispered frantically to her sister, who was yanking on her sleeve in order to get the rest of her to the exit faster.
“Hell yes! Are you seeing this? This is way beyond what we were shooting for. And now it’s not our problem, so let’s scram before they decide to make this a battle royale.”
Despite her urgency, Czaronica stopped a few feet further on and looked around. Her sister did the same, as she also sensed the unsettling pressure that was building upon them moment by moment. It felt like the oncoming of a giant storm, rolling across the land and sky, just about to break against the side of the building.
The two combatants were too preoccupied with the impending violence to notice the warning, however. Job’s eyes were flickering about, their brain racing to deduce the best plan of attack or defense against a pissed-off spirit. Boss Bouc was evidently getting bored of Job’s attempt at strategy. Sera’s body slid off the table and fell into a cocky saunter, mindlessly twirling the base of the bottle in her hand, as the spinning shrapnel followed it around and around.
“Gettin col’ feet, whodi? I’m so jazzed up now I don’ think I gonna just let y’off without a bit o’ excitement, ‘specially—”
The rest of Bouc’s threat was drowned out by the birds.
The old drapes and rotting boards that were meant to keep the windows from being breached had finally failed in their vigil. Glass smashed and screeches followed, both avian and human. The many blue candles accenting the tense mood of the room were blown out instantly and their wax spattered into the wind. Despite the utter chaos that was now blinding and battering the lowly landwalkers, Renna could make out that the attackers were of all different shapes and species; she thought she saw crows, blue jays, pigeons, parrots, and even a snow-white cockatoo that carried itself with all the pomp of a Shakespearian monarch. This was the last impressive image burned into her mind before she shut her eyes and ears to protect herself from the ornithological onslaught that now ruled them all.
Hear the author read this week’s installment in the video below:
MetaStellar fiction editor Geordie Morse works primarily as a personal language coach, developing curricula and working with clients remotely. His first book, Renna's Crossing, is out now. His various other projects are cataloged on his site Arnamantle.