The Magician: An Epic Dark Fantasy Novel: Book One of the Rogue Portal Series (12 page)

              "And I'll help
you
," she said, looking at Rumsfeld.

              "I'm sorry, Eleanor, I don't remember saying I needed any help," he said coolly.

              "And I don't recall leaving it up to you."

              "In case you haven't noticed, I'm entirely capable of handling this situation."

              "Sure, if I wanted it handled with the compassion of an elementary school teacher. Which I don't."

              "This isn't your place."

              "You made it my place when you got soft!"

              At this point Rumsfeld waved a hand toward the camera and all the audio went dead. The argument between Rumsfeld and Eleanor went on, the two of them, normally cool and detached even while arguing, becoming visibly angry. Animated. Heated. 

              Stuart shifted uncomfortably in his chair and averted his eyes from the screen. The on-screen Stuart was rapidly shifting his gaze from one person to the next and back again like a ping-pong ball passing back and forth over the net during a death match.

              Then, at once, Connor understood why Stuart had looked away. The woman hunched her back and raised her arms wide in one fell swoop, and Stuart's mouth was restored. As he opened it, presumably to scream, the woman transformed into a raven with metallic amethyst eyes, become transparent and ethereal, and flew down his throat.

              Stuart's appearance changed drastically, his eyes glowing a fierce shade of violet, his teeth sharpening.
Were his teeth sharp earlier?
Connor thought. He hadn't noticed. Stuart smiled a grotesque smile and Rumsfeld loosed the rope around him. Then, Rumsfeld leaned down and whispered something in his ear. The deranged Stuart grinned even wider, and the sound was restored.

              As the sound returned, Stuart morphed back into his normal looking self.
And that's why I didn't see the teeth
.

              "You remember your mission," Rumsfeld said.

              "I do," Stuart repeated.

              "And you will carry it out when the time comes?"

              "I will."

              His voice sounded robotic and pinched, just as it had before the attack earlier that morning.

              "Good. You won't remember this conversation, but you'll have the reminder of it." He motioned toward the camera. "I suspect you'll watch it. I suspect it's only then you'll remember everything. Know who it is you are. What you're supposed to do. What you
must
do. But your oath is internalized and will be held to you regardless of circumstance. Understand?"

              "Yes, master."

              "So it is." Rumsfeld offered a sneering smile.

              "So it is," Stuart repeated.

              At once the scene returned to its original state. Rumsfeld turned his back and disappeared in a plume of crimson smoke and Stuart resumed his furrowed research pose. Stuart shut it off.

              "After that it's just a few hours of me typing, and then...well you know what I did to you."

              The pair sat in stunned silence.

              Connor pulled out his phone and hit the "call" button in he and Kit's text conversation. It rang only once.

              "Where the hell are you guys! We--"

              "Kit you need to get over to our dorm. Right away. There's something you need to see."

              "Connor, I really don't have time for --"

              "Kit,"

              "What could possibly be so --"

              "KIT!"

              Kit relented her arguing and sighed.

              "Fine," she said, "fine I'll be there. But this had better be good."

SEVENTEEN

⌛

Kit had arrived at the dorm more than a little upset. Stuart and Connor allowed her to vent, which made room for a profanity-laden lecture about their insensitivity, laziness, and general selfishness, after which she'd concluded by asking them what they wanted to show her. Instead of risking further verbal assault by explaining it, or trying to, they simply gave her the chair Connor had been sitting in previously, and pressed play. Best she saw for herself.

              Connor sat on the bed next to her chair. He had no interest in seeing his friend become possessed by a raven woman named Eleanor for a second time. Instead, he was interested in how Kit might react to the events contained within the video. He watched as her expression shifted from pissed off to annoyed but curious to enthralled and then, finally, to stunned silence.

              Once she'd found her voice again she had rather uncharacteristically apologized for her recent accusatory outburst, and then had gone on to stress how important it was that they get to the library. She'd had an idea about what they could research. And so, they'd all gotten ready and left.

              Now they were entering the library to begin their day of thorough research, hoping to find something useful. Something they could use to point them in the right direction. Anything at all.

              "We need to find information on shape shifting," said Kit.

              "On what?" Connor was confused.

              "Shape shifting. People who can transform into animals."

              "Is that a thing?"

              "Yes and no. Technically it does exist, but usually it refers to a shamanistic sort of practice that involves embodying the most desired characteristics of a particular animal by mimicking them and getting in touch with their spirit. If you want courage, you act like a lion; wisdom, like an owl. Whatever.

              "Okay...?"

              "
That
shit, however," Kit said, motioning with her thumb back toward the dorms "is a whole new level. I mean sure literal, physical shape shifting has been the subject of stories and lore for a long time, but..." she trailed off.

              "So what are books on the subject going to do for us, then? Won't they either be fiction or talking about the...mental shape shifting thing?"

              "Don't be so quick to distinguish fiction from truth."

              "Kit..."

              "I'm serious. And even if we only find books on the Shamanistic kind of shape shifting, it could still be helpful. For all we know, the principles of one could be based on or linked to the other."

              Connor's furrowed brow gave away his skepticism.

              "You got a better idea?" she asked.

              He unfurled a hand into the air as though to say "You have a point there". And she did. Because her plan was the only plan they had. The only one they'd had for a long time. And even if he thought it was bullshit, which he did, he'd been wrong quite frequently since first setting foot on campus. Chances were good that he was about to add yet another item to the list of things he now believed in that he never thought he would.

              Stuart had been silent throughout the entire walk to the library. Connor wanted to find out if he was alright, but the thought crossed his mind that even Stuart didn't have the answer to that question. Stuart's eyes had been permanently set in the squint of a person who is trying to read something from a great distance. Likely, he was replaying the video in his mind, analyzing, trying to find out if he could remember more, see something he'd missed the first time.

              The fifth floor of the library was home to nearly all of the metaphysical textbooks and information within the campus' library system. It was the same floor on which Connor had experienced his encounter with Rumsfeld. Given all the events that had transpired since then he had a difficult time believing it had only been days ago that he'd been confronted for the first time with the reality that things were about to become much more complicated. And the first time he'd held the book that had since disrupted so much of his life, and the lives of those he'd grown to care about.

              Kit headed down one of the aisles with conviction, causing Connor to take off after her. He didn't know how she knew so much about the subject at hand, and for a moment the butterflies of doubt and uneasiness came back. He pushed them away.

              Instinctively his hand went to his pocket watch. It had become something of a security blanket for him. This effect had greatly increased since he'd been able to use it as a weapon of sorts. His mind wandered back to what Rumsfeld had told Stuart in the video. That he didn't appreciate him revealing the power of the pocket watch. Why did it matter? And then, immediately following the question, his mind returned an answer: because in some way the power of the pocket watch was a threat to Rumsfeld. To the forces of their realm. Maybe to their entire plan - whatever it was.

              Kit stopped so suddenly that Connor was forced onto his tiptoes to avoid running into her. He'd just gotten back on flat feet when Stuart repeated the motion behind him, making them look like a bizarre comic train.

              "Here!" she said, pulling several books from the shelf.

              "How many do we need?" Connor said, as she passed book after book to him, then Stuart, then gathered some herself.

              "We need as many as we can find, Connor!" she said. "Information is a commodity of which we're a little short at the moment. Wouldn't you agree?"

              Her tone was short and accusatory.

              "You're right," he said, hoping to avoid confrontation. It worked.

              She nodded once as though indicating her satisfaction with his answer. As she walked between Connor and Stuart toward the study tables, like Moses parting the Red Sea, Stuart gave a raised eyebrow expression that would have paired well with a long, falling whistle. It was the only indicator he'd given since they left the dorms that he was even on the same mental plane as everyone else, and Connor was glad for it.  He smiled, laughing silently, and nodded, wordlessly agreeing that yes, Kit seemed on edge - even for her.

              Assembling at the table they laid out their books in front of them, and began to peruse the titles.
The Art of Shape Shifting
,
Shamanistic Practices
,
Entities and Energies
, and
Dream Walking: A Tutorial on Astral Projection
were among the titles that Kit had chosen from the shelves.

              "Everyone take a book and start reading," she said.

              Stuart and Connor exchanged glances, set their backpacks down, and started to look at the books before them. They each took a volume and started in.

              Connor chose
Dream Walking: A Tutorial on Astral Projection
. He thought it was the most appropriate book, given the amount of travel he seemed to be doing in his dreams. The Table of Contents seemed to suggest that the book contained information for people who wanted to learn how to intentionally travel - through time, space, dimensions, etc. - while dreaming. There didn't seem to be much information designed to help people who were unwittingly sucked through pocket watch portals and ended up in a cosmic wheelhouse with a crazy Magician. But still, he decided to flip through the textbook for information, if for no other reason than to appease Kit's mood - which was another matter altogether. Connor seemed to be walking a tightrope between "Trust Kit" and "Don't Trust Kit at All". The only middle ground was indecision, and he felt as though he could fall to one side or the other at any given moment.

              "Whoa!"

              Kit's sudden outburst caused Connor and Stuart to jump simultaneously and prompted several heads to turn. Kit didn't notice the fact that others had taken a brief moment to look her way, and for their sakes Connor was glad.

              "What?" said Stuart.

              "Check this out."

              Kit handed her book,
Entities and Energies
, to Stuart, and his mouth dropped open slightly. He sat back in his chair as though he perceived whatever was on the page to be a real and viable threat. The heads of those around him returned to their respective books. He leaned forward slightly and read the page, his lips moving as he silently took in the text. His eyes met Connor's in a gaze of mixed fright and awe and he slid the book wordlessly across the table.

              Connor took it, looked down, and felt his own jaw drop. There before him on the page was the most accurate depiction he could ever hope to create of the entity that had attacked him, and the entity who had been present at his father's suicide. Had completed the task of stealing his father's - what was it? Soul? Spirit? - and had attacked Stuart.

              The title above the picture said
Demafae
.

              The text only offered a brief definition of Demafae, but at that point even having a name was more information than they'd had up until then. He read the description.

              "
Demafae are a type of entity whose existence depends on three elements: someone to               control them, someone to control, and a mission to accomplish. Should you see one, it is               almost guaranteed that a conjurer has manifested the entities and directed them to               control you as part of some kind of mission. Psychic protection will help, but it won't               entirely rid you of the being. The Demafae are almost always malevolent. While their               exact nature is not known it is almost certain that they are, as their name implies, either               demonic faeries or fae beings, or fallen fae. In either case, they are not to be taken               lightly. There is currently no known weapon against them."

              Connor raised his eyes and looked at Stuart, then at Kit, both of whom were looking at him, awaiting his reaction.

              "Well that's not good," he said.

              "No shit, Sherlock," said Kit.

              "What did you want, a psychic revelation?" snapped Stuart.

              Kit, for once, was speechless and was rendered slack jawed for a moment. Stuart rubbed his head and looked at Connor, then back at Kit.

              "Look, I'm sorry. Just...need sleep or...something."

              Kit and Connor exchanged worried glances and Stuart hung his head and interlaced his fingers behind his head.

              "Maybe I'll go back to the dorms," he said, "Get some sleep. Join you guys this weekend. Would that be alright?"

              "Sure thing," said Kit.

              "Of course," Connor replied.

              "Thanks."

              "Hey, will you be alright alone?" Connor asked.

              Stuart changed in an instant.

              "You think I need a damn babysitter? I'll be fine, but thanks for your lack of confidence!" he shouted, through gritted teeth.

              With that he scuffed up his hair, threw a book across the table, looked at Connor as though he was about to say something, and then stormed out of the library just as tears began to brim in his eyes. "You'd be better off without me anyway," he said, his voice breaking. "I promise."

              Turning on his heel, Stuart ran out of the room, his sobs echoing through the tomb-like study.