The War Gate (13 page)

She didn’t care if the next question sounded like a trap or not. It was just something she had to know. “I wonder if you would be fascinated with me if I didn’t have this power. I mean, ‘potential’, because I’m not sure I even have the skill. It’s all hearsay so far. There’s no proof of it, because I still think what happened to me was an accident.”

This time he scowled. “For one thing, it wouldn’t have made any difference. I liked you the first time I laid eyes on you. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a pretty fair judge of deception. I think I can say I’m  smart enough to know what I like or trust in somebody.”

Right answer. He could have muffed that. She couldn’t deny what she had felt for him after their first meeting. It had started out so well. Now this other factor had come along to complicate everything. She didn’t want any conditions laid down in a relationship. But it looked like they would have to pass some hefty bumps in the road to pick up where they had left off. It all relied on trust.

“Well.” She sighed. “Maybe there’s nothing left to do than to try this thing out. If it works like you say it does, talking about it isn’t going to make it happen. Maybe I should experiment.”

“No maybes. You know you have to try it out. Aren’t you excited about it?”

“I’m a little excited, but afraid. How about you?”

“Are you kidding? I’m blown away! It will be the first time that I act the part of
your
assistant. I promise to help you get through it.”

She allowed herself a small laugh. “You’re an idiot. Just don’t let me go poof somewhere. I’d hate to get lost in the waves.”

“I’ll tie a cowbell on you. I won’t let you get away.”

She fell back on the grass, smiling at a fat cloud. She swished her arms and legs over the ground, then began to giggle. He asked what she was doing. She said, “I’m making a snow angel in the grass.”

He leaned close to her, saying, “You are an angel.” He kissed her. She surrendered, almost swooning in his embrace. She liked his breath on her face, his body pressed up against hers. He didn’t find the need to climb all over her. It was a gentle seduction with a sweetness she appreciated. Their first kiss. When they came up for air, they were not alone.

Three men stood on the bank facing the pond. They were no more than ten feet away. They looked out of place for such a serene setting—like Katz n’ Jammer kids at a church social. They wore heavy dark suits and expensive-looking shoes. They were too “off” the look for wannabe CIA or FBI agents. When they turned around to face the two, it seemed choreographed. They gave the couple lingering stares before they walked down the bank to disappear between a stand of trees.

“That was creepy,” said Sebastian. “Pervs, maybe.”

“I swear I’ve seen them before somewhere. I can’t remember where though. It’s not important. Let’s get out of here.”

###

They ended up back at the theater, but not without stopping at a pancake house to pick up a breakfast order. They sat on the cot together, eating. Every so often they had to shield their Styrofoam containers from one of the doves which flew overhead, since they were apt to release without warning. One of those times was eating, Sebastian explained.

“Without a doubt I went through the trapdoor,” said Avy, “then ended up in the back alley. Why that direction? Why that door? How controllable is this?”

Sebastian grabbed some writing material. He began sketching a layout of the theater, marking off certain sections. When he finished he said, “The theater has a total of fourteen exits or entrances. Maybe the Gates are linked by proximity. Maybe you have to pass through each door within a structure before you can jump to another one. I still don’t know how you did it the first time, unless you were feeling hatred for me, or something.”

She couldn’t forget that
feeling. “I felt embarrassed about coming out of the costume. Then thought I was going to explode with anger. That’s when it happened. The next thing I knew I was standing in the back lot hammering on the door.”

“That’s the key,” he said. “You had an emotional surge. Anger. Do you remember the trip or seeing anything while it happened?”

“It happened real quick. I might have seen a flash, but that’s about it. I didn’t feel any pain or anything. Just shaky. But that could have been from nerves.”

She ate the last bite, finishing her breakfast plate, knowing it was time to test their theories. Part of her bubbled with excitement. Another part of her was terrified. Setting her empty container aside, she rubbed her hands together. “I need my head examined. Let’s do this before I change my mind.” She walked across the floor, stopping at the back entrance to the theater.

“Wait a minute,” he said. “How can I keep track of you?”

“Hang on a minute. I have an idea.” She went outside to her Jeep. She unsnapped a charm off her key ring. Removing her purse from beneath the seat, she pulled out a device, then returned to the storeroom.

“This is a key ringer,” she said. “I’ll keep the beeper in my pocket. You push this button on the ringer if I don’t show up. You can find me within three hundred feet, if there isn’t a barrier between us that mutes the beep sound.”

“That’s better than nothing.” He looked anxious.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped to the rear entrance. She tried to duplicate the feelings she’d had when standing over the trapdoor—the deep humiliation, the pain of embarrassment. Sebastian inched closer, his eyes widening.

She closed her eyes, doubled her fists, then charged the door. Her chest hit the metal hard with a thump; the blow knocked her backward. Dazed, she stood there for a moment, massaging her chin.

“Damn, Avy, don’t kill yourself. Are you okay?”

“Fine. I didn’t have the right juju or something. I guess I’m not embarrassed over the incident anymore. You shouldn’t have kissed me at the park.”

“What?”

“Never mind. I’ll try it again.”

“Yeah, you have to get hot—fuming mad. Something that lights your face on fire. Would it help if I cursed at you?” He looked more excited than she was.

“Don’t be an idiot—I’d end up laughing at you. Just wait. I’ll get it.” She thought for a moment, trying to bring something to mind that would fill her with rage. War, global warming, third-world famine topped the list. But she had something better. She thought about the injustice to her mother, the terror she must have endured on death row. She thought about the indignity, the bad press, along with all the people who had condemned her without knowing the facts.

The back of Avy’s neck bristled, her shoulders tightened. Her breath came in gulps. She remembered the letter her mother had written her. She had seemed so lost, abandoned by the world she loved. A tear came to Avy’s eye when she remembered how her mother had apologized and wished her well.

Now she had a full-on rage. It seemed like the atoms were breaking apart in her body, losing their orbits. That was it!

She marched toward the door, kicked up a leg, then she was through. A flash sparked in front of her face for a split second that stole her concentration. She fell forward in the dark, stumbling over her own feet, flailing her arms out to catch herself. She went down with a crash, taking something with her. The beeper squealed in her pocket. She looked around, trying to focus on anything familiar.

She was sitting on a floor amidst several broken cases of Top Ramen noodles and drinking straws. She saw light peeking from under a thick drape. She was not in the theater. She’d landed somewhere else.

The drape was flung back by a small broom wielding Chinese man who gaped at her in astonishment. After a few seconds, he found his tongue.

“You get out of Chin’s store right now, Missy!” he told her. “How you get back here? No lavatory for you in here. No trespassing. You not belong back here in private property! Halp, police!”

Avy stumbled to her feet. She pushed past him, kicking noodle packages and mashing straws underfoot. She ran down an aisle toward the sunlight, realizing that she was in a Chinese delicatessen. She shoved the front door open just in time to escape a thrown broom that clattered off the door glass. She made a right turn down a narrow alley. The theater alley! She sped to the back lot while her key beeper squealed like a wounded animal.

Sebastian was running full force in her direction with his hand outstretched, his fingers clicking the beeper button. She ducked before he put her eye out.

“Sebastian!”

He stopped in his tracks, whirled around. “Jesus! I thought I lost you.”

“You almost took my head off. Stay put next time.”

“Sorry, couldn’t help it.” He patted her down, making sure she was in one piece. Then their eyes met. The realization of what had just happened struck. They danced around in the parking lot like two mischievous children. “We did it!” they chorused.

The revelry was short-lived. The little Chinese man came around the corner on bowed legs, brandishing his broom like a lance. “You in big trouble now!”

They ran through the rear theater door, slamming it shut after them. They slid to the floor, laughing with hysterical fits. Outside, the Chinese man’s rant went on, while he beat his broom on the pavement angrily.

“Oh, you weely weely gonna get it now!” he told them.

Chapter 10

Monday was a day off, allowing them the privacy of the theater. The weekend performances had exceeded expectations, except for a faulty release mechanism in the guillotine and one stray rabbit that had escaped, but was later found cowering under the audience seats. The house receipts were down a bit from the last weekend due to a blockbuster movie release, but filling the theater to one-third capacity still brought in a nice profit. Sebastian predicted they would make a killing next weekend. He explained to Avy that word was getting out about the pretty new assistant who drew gasps from the male crowd during the performances. She felt euphoric for having six shows under her belt. It was a small milestone, but at least it proved she had given up amateur status. She now considered herself a professional magician’s assistant.

They had just finished pacing off the doors of the theater to record the distances in a notebook when they sat down in theater seats to take stock of what they had learned.

“All I can remember,” began Sebastian, “is that Janus said there’s a sequence to riding the string within a structure—that means going from door to door; each one represents Gates. I used to drive him nuts about the process, bugging him for the details. He would always laugh, but never tell me how it
really
worked. I'm sure it has something to do with a starting point.”

“How do you mean a starting point?” Avy was dying to know the secret.

“Well, a main entrance door might start the string. The end of the string might be the last exit door. So it’s possible to go through several then put the brakes on to stop at a door of your choice. Janus knows how to pull that off, but he goes it one better. He’s able to travel through solid matter, so he’s reached some type of advanced skill level. I’ve seen him do the solid thing three times. The last time was with you.”

“You’ve never told anybody about this?”

“Are you kidding? A magician never reveals his trade secrets—it's part of our creed. Besides, who would believe me?”

“It would be so much easier if we could ask him face-to-face. How does the student learn without the master? It’s dangerous. There’s curves ahead in this kind of traveling, things that I could never see coming up on me.”

“He’s not the type you can send a postcard to. It would never catch up to him. I think he cut you loose for a while so you could learn the technique yourself. Kind of like on the job training. You follow?”

“He’s so
strange
,” she said. “I wonder where he comes from.”

“You know the story of Janus, don’t you? The Roman god, Janus?”

“I never made that connection but, yeah, there’s a similarity now that I think about it. Don’t you think that a mythological god who is sharing the same existence with us is a little bit off the wall? Christians don’t allow for false prophets or mythical gods in this age.”

“Maybe he’s a leftover from the age of multiple deities—polytheism. Maybe the big guy upstairs sanctions him. Could be it’s just a front. He’s not dangerous. ‘So by the prophet’s works will ye come to know them.’ Avy, I don’t think we have to justify his existence or draw any comparisons. I don’t see any links to demonic or negative forces. You have to accept the fact that he’s here. This universe is more multidimensional than you could ever imagine—unknown phenomenon are all around us.”

“It seems easy for you to accept it. Maybe that’s because you’ve had so much time to soak it up, to understand it.”

“It started early with me. Houdini was my god, the master teacher. That was until I met Janus. He makes Houdini look like a grifter playing the shell game in a broken down tent. You’ve got to see the wonder in all of this. Stop agonizing over it. Accept it for what it is—a divine gift.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

Sebastian offered some solace. He understood the subject matter much better than she did. Although she couldn’t help thinking that what had been given to her was a bucket of gasoline and a match.
Light me if you dare.
Janus had warned her that her path from here on out was a super highway—a highway she had permission to travel. He had failed to warn her that some people did not have any business behind the cosmic steering wheel. It was like licensing a drunk driver, giving them permission to navigate the inter-dimensional autobahn.

Avy pulled Sebastian out of his seat. She walked him up the aisle and out the front entrance. They ended up in the marquis lobby. She looked around. “Okay, we have to make sure no one is passing on the street or sidewalk. I’m going to try it from the front.”

He pulled the key finder out of his pocket and looked both ways down the street. “I’ll give you the all clear.”

She faced the doubled doors, prepping her mind for the task. She dredged up that familiar feeling of anger, letting it boil within, keeping the lid on it until she needed that explosive thrust. She cursed under her breath. “Drake, you murderous bastard. You’re nothing but a low-life, scum-sucking pig.”