The Magician: An Epic Dark Fantasy Novel: Book One of the Rogue Portal Series (23 page)

              "Connor, listen to me. You don't understand half of what's going on. I've dealt with these people before. I know this realm."

              "HOW, Kit? HOW do you know?"

              She looked away and ran her hand through her hair, letting out a heavy sigh.

              "And that's exactly my problem, Kit. You've got a lot to say until I ask you how you know, and then you stop talking."

              "I'm trying to help you. I'm doing my  best. But it's not as simple as explanations and definitions. It's just not. These people were in my past, too, remember?"

              "Yes, I remember! But they were also in Stuart's past. And Hazel's! I don't see them running around with knowledge they pull out of their ass just when it's necessary without explanation! I don't see them harboring secrets!"

              "Because they have less to remember."

              The last comment seemed to be more to herself than to him, and it enraged him even further. They continued walking - or storming - toward the hotel, entered, and rode the elevator in silence. He reached for the hotel room door, and she held up the key with a look that clearly said "Forgetting something?"

              He stepped back and let her open the door, but she paused before sticking the key in its slot.

              "Connor, there's something you need to know."

              "There are lots of things I need to know. But right now I don't happen to care. Open the door."

              She gave him a contemplative look, then shook her head and opened the door.

              He walked in, and Stuart and Hazel met him with a look of shared relief.

              "Holy crap, man, we thought you were gone forever," said Stuart.

              "I thought...I..." Hazel dissolved into tears and flung her arms around his neck. He wasn't expecting the hug and jumped before he returned it.

              "I'm fine. Kit knew just where to find me."

              He said it with an intentional edge of accusation.

              "Yes, and he wasn't the least bit appreciative."

              "Well maybe if I knew how you knew just where I'd be I wouldn't feel so suspicious about it."

              "Because I figured they'd deposit you somewhere with nature. And the forest is the only place with nature around here. I knew they'd send you back. At least this time."

              "Well isn't it so convenient for you that you know so much. What about you guys? Anyone else a little off-put by the idea that our friend Kit here seems to know so much but doesn't feel that we need to know?"

              Anger did not begin to describe what he was feeling. He'd passed anger a long time ago and sailed right by rage in the process. This was a level of fury he'd never felt before, and as much as he hated it, it was cathartic in a way, too. She knew too much. And was keeping too much a secret.

              "You know what, Connor, I'm done! You want to bitch and moan about the secrets I'm keeping, you go right on ahead, but I'm going to do something productive."

              She stormed over to the table, grabbed her phone, picked up her bag, and walked out of the room. As she passed him he thought he saw tears in her eyes. He didn't care. Maybe she should be sad.

              Hazel and Stuart exchanged nervous glances, and Connor immediately felt the weight of his irrationality bring him back to reality. His anger began to subside, his breathing slowed, and in a few moments he began to feel normal again. Whatever normal was.

              "Sorry guys," he mumbled.

              "What was that about?" Stuart asked.

              "She knew...she..." Connor didn't know how to articulate it.

              "She knows a lot," Hazel said to nobody in particular.

              "She knows too much. Which wouldn't be a problem if she told us," Connor replied. "She knew right where to find me. And I can't shake the feeling that she knows a hell of a lot more than she's letting on. When we're all struggling to figure out what's going on and reality itself is being threatened, I think the least she could do is be up front with us. That's all."

              He took a deep breath and let it out.

              "But I was probably out of line, too," he added.

              "We're all stressed and scared and confused," said Hazel. "It's okay. She'll get over it. She always does."

              Connor walked over to the table from which Kit had retrieved her effects and noticed a small box with indentations for two identical keys. One was missing. He picked up the other one and read it.
LIBRARY
.

              "Hey guys..."

              But as the words left his mouth he thought better of it. He knew exactly where she'd gone, and he wasn't in any mood to divulge it to the others. Instead, he quickly took the box with the key and slipped it into his pocket.

              "What?" Hazel replied.

              "Nothing," he said, pushing the key further into his pocket. "Let's get back to the books."

TWENTY-FOUR

⌛

Kit stormed off toward the library at such a high rate of speed she thought she'd be out of breath before she'd managed a block. She pounded her feet into the pavement with such force she expected the concrete to crack beneath her. It didn't, of course. Precious few forces in the world were that powerful. Anger was not an emotion with which she was unfamiliar. After all, with the absence of magic, anger was all she really had.

              She directed her anger at Connor, at the whole situation. How could he not understand that she was trying to help him? How could he not remember anything? Of course she knew the answers, didn't she , but that didn't help. He couldn't be blamed too much for his ignorance, after all. And he couldn't be blamed for his anger, either. It had to be maddening and frightening to be him, but that thought did little to quell her rage. 

              The accusations. The skepticism. It drove her to the breaking point every time.
Is it entirely false, Kit?
The inner voice in her head was right, of course. He was furious because of her secrecy. He had accused her only of keeping information from him. And she was, wasn't she, after all. So could he really be blamed? Was it so egregious an accusation? Perhaps not. And maybe that's what made her so angry. The fact that it
was
true. That she had been keeping things from him. That she had to keep them secret. At least for now. He wouldn't understand. Wouldn't be able to take it, perhaps.

             
Maybe I overreacted. Maybe I'm not angry at him, just the situation.
She nodded to herself. She had been too harsh, perhaps. But they'd all snapped at one point or another. Or would. There had to be a way to tell him. He had to know sooner or later. And the way things were progressing, she figured he'd know sooner. Rumsfeld had clearly managed an upper hand in the situation, and she was convinced he'd be well on his way to screwing everything up beyond all fixing in short order. But how could she Connor anything without him refusing to go back? It would be too much.

              She took a deep breath, steadying herself, recovering her composure. She had serious work to do, and she didn't need irrational emotion getting in the way of things. She felt a sharp pain in her palm and looked down to see that she'd been holding the library key so tightly it had started to wear a pattern into her hand, and the corner of it had pierced her palm. Shaking her head, she tucked it into her pocket.
Get a grip
.

              Something didn't feel right. Now that her brain wasn't running a million miles a second and her anger had subsided, she began to take an inventory of her surroundings.
No people,
she thought. She could make the walk to campus in less than five minutes, and the library stood right on the edge of the campus. Being Sunday, a lack of foot traffic might have been excusable. But still. Shouldn't
someone
be out?

              Just as she entertained this thought, a woman caught her eye. She walked toward her on the sidewalk. Something about the woman gave her an odd feeling. Something about her appearance. Or her walk. Or her eyes.
Or all of it,
she thought
.
The woman's gray hair hung to her waist, and she wore a solid tan dress. Her gaunt features and sharp eyes made her a walking contradiction.

             
She's old, but young.

              As she passed Kit, she looked her directly in her eyes, with intention.

              "Time's short these days, isn't it, girl?"

              Kit looked at the woman, startled that she had spoken at all. The woman's eyes flashed a shade of glowing green, and then returned to their chocolate hue. If her eyes had been swords, they'd have pierced Kit through without effort.

              "Excuse me?" Kit responded.

              "Time," she said. "It's short these days."

              The woman offered her a sinister smile and walked past her . Kit shuddered as a chill ran through her body, and she quickened her pace.

              She looked behind her, just to ensure the woman hadn't followed her. Spinning around she almost ran into a tall man in a blue mechanic's outfit who seemed to appear out of nowhere, just as the woman had. Like the woman something was wrong with him. 

              His eyes, hollow and frantic, looked everywhere at once. He moved in a near run, causing his unkempt hair to bounce on his head. Ancient wrinkles creased his dark features. Kit watched him walk.
He looks like a cymbal-crashing wind-up monkey,
she thought, as he approached her.

              "Breaking down. Everything's breaking down," he said.

              He muttered frantically as he passed her, seeming to not notice her at all. The odd utterance was spoken to the Universe more than it was to her, but it unnerved her nonetheless. Their eyes met in a sudden and dramatic fashion, and she stopped cold in her tracks. He grabbed her arms.

              "It's breaking down! Breaking down, do you hear me? Everything is breaking down!"

              "Let go of me!" she cried, struggling to get away. He gripped her arms with surprising strength.

              "BREAKING! BREAKING DOWN!" He grinned, laughing in a maniacal fashion, displaying razor sharp teeth.

              She tore her arms away from his and he stumbled before righting himself, spitting at her, and walking off in the same wind-up doll fashion, muttering aloud about things breaking down, breaking apart. 

              Taking out her headphones and putting them in, she continued along her path to the library.
If I have to see them, I sure as hell don't need to hear them
, she thought. The blaring electronic music motivated and calmed her at the same time, propelling her into a quick power walk. She took a deep breath, comforted. Her music drowned out the world, and she let herself become absorbed by it.

              A sound like static interrupted the current song. She ignored it, walking faster still, almost jogging toward the library.
I swear this thing moved a mile away.
At this point it wouldn't have surprised her.

              The static interrupted her music again, and then once more. Without any further warning, the music stopped. She looked at her phone. Had she lost connection? A black screen greeted her. She hit several buttons. Nothing. The phone had died.

              "It was fully charged five seconds ago!" she said to herself.

              Never mind. She had to get to the library. Taking her ear buds out, she stowed the phone in her bag and kept going. Silence enveloped her like linen. Nothing moved. The whole world stood empty, holding its breath.

              A child appeared alongside the road, a small boy that could have been no more than seven but whose eyes reflected wisdom of ancient origin. He was dressed in black, as though on his way to (or from) a funeral, and a short crop of hair topped his head in a bowl cut. His hair was almost as black as his clothing, giving him a haunted appearance, and his pallid skin added to the effect.

              His mouth began to move as she passed. He was standing in the grass along the sidewalk, and while he didn't make any steps toward her, her nerves stood on end nonetheless, and she quickened her pace further. Just as she passed him, she heard him sing a song she knew but had tried to forget in a language she half-remembered.

              She put one foot in front of the other so fast she thought she might trip over her own feet, but it didn't matter. She had to get to that library. Just then she looked up from her feet. A horde of people stood in front of her, gathered in clumps on either side of the only road that provided her access to her destination.

              Taking a deep breath, she headed straight through them, not making eye contact. An old man with half a face, a small female child with razor sharp fangs for teeth, a man with glowing red eyes and hair on his clawed hand, reaching for her. She kept walking, but one by one they reached out to her, touching her, grabbing her arms, repeating their choice phrases. Cries of "It's not over!" and "You'll be back soon!" and "Your time is up!" and other similar things reached out to her from demonic voices.

              At once, they all grabbed hold of her, like a pack of a dozen or more rabid dogs fighting over their prey. She struggled and fought against them, hitting one, kicking another, but they didn't give up. One of them clawed the side of her face, and she let out a scream and spit in his face.

              They had her pinned; arms, legs, everything. She tried to move, but she couldn't. They stared down at her with hungry eyes, all of them encroaching upon her, until finally one of them pulled her arm up and bit. She howled in pain just as the small child went for her throat.

              Bracing herself, she closed her eyes, waiting to be torn apart by the disturbing crowd. But just then, a voice, chilling and familiar, broke the crowd.

              "She is NOT yours to take!"

              The crowd let go of Kit and backed away with fear in their eyes. The voice spoke again.

              "You are messengers only! THAT was your order. Now go and let her be!"

              The disembodied voice came from everywhere at once and engulfed them. She knew the voice, but pushed the knowledge aside. Memories flashed through her mind, all of them associated with the disembodied voice. The beings all ran as fast as they could along the sidewalk and gathered a safe distance behind her, allowing Kit to scramble to her feet. If they knew what she knew about the source of the voice, they had reason to run. The voice disappeared, but the crowd of mutant messengers still stood, watching her from afar, all muttering their given message.

              She turned on her heel and walked toward the library. Then quickened her pace until she broke out into a jog, knowing on some level that once she reached campus they wouldn't be a threat. Not daring to look back until she reached the boundary of the school, she ran the last half block. When she finally reached the safety of the library parking lot, she turned around and faced them. Every person she'd passed on the way to the library was standing, all looking at her with hollow expressions and blank eyes, all repeating their slogan of choice in a deafening cacophony of demonic utterances.

              She reached into her pocket to retrieve her phone, hoping to snap a picture and send it to the others. If it was already to this level, if the other realm had already interfered with this one so heavily, it was time they knew what they were dealing with.

              Pulling out her phone, she opened the camera app and held it up in front of her. And everything went silent. The viewfinder on her camera showed an empty street, and when she looked up she found that the photograph told the truth. None of them were there.
Probably couldn't have photographed them anyway
, she thought.

              There was no time for any of that now. She took a few shuttering breaths, turned her back to the street, and crossed the parking lot and up the library's front stairway. They'd recently built a cafe outside of the library, and the sign stand in front of it hosted a neon blue flyer touting its latest deal.
SALMON SALAD
it screamed.

              And then the breath froze in her lungs as she looked at the words right below the salmon salad proclamation.

             
Fill the Void!

              "Come on Kit, it's a restaurant sign," she said aloud.

              She looked at the library doors and pulled a key from her pocket. Laughing at herself, she took a look back at the sign.

              "What the..."

              Where the sign had previously said "Fill the Void" it now displayed a new slogan.
Return to the Void
. The picture of the salmon salad had likewise been replaced by the visage of an hourglass. A cold breeze drifted over her, making her shudder. She pulled her sweatshirt tighter around her body. She walked over and touched the flier, wondering if it was real. The coarse paper accosted her fingers as she rubbed it, feeling the printing.

              "Somet'n can help ya with?"

              She jumped and spun around, startled at the voice. A tall man in a blue jumpsuit stood behind her with a wheeled trashcan and a broom. His skin was as dark as coal, and his eyes glistened with a misplaced joy. She relaxed.

              "Oh, Ulysses. You startled me," she laughed. The custodian of the school, Ulysses, was a well-known figure, and known for being relentlessly positive. "No, I'm fine, just..."

              She looked back at the sign. It had taken its original form, touting its new salmon salad.

              "Thinking about trying the salmon salad," she laughed.

              "'tis right good food the' got," he said, chuckling.

              She nodded. "Good to know."

              His smile faded.

              "Not a lot'a time left t'be eatin', though, wou'nt ya say? Might wanna get it soon."