A Prison of Worlds (The Chained Worlds Chronicles Book 1) (22 page)

I
strode down the rows of circle, categorizing them.  Fire, death, energy, over
in the center next to the control circle was the now defunct dimensional circle
construct, and on the other side was the barrier circle with a neat little
circle that seemed to be directing the ambient energy into the entire matrix. 
I took note of the symbols that denoted the coordinates.  I was a little at a
loss.  I could try to catch the psychic scent of the circles.  Draw out images
of their creation and hope to backtrack through experimentation to learn how to
recreate them.  The problem was that I wasn't very good at psychometry, and
even if I was, it would take a large amount of concentration.  Concentration I
couldn't spare without being pulled away by the tide I could vaguely feel even
now as I studiously ignored it.

Putting
off any decisions, I walked once more around the shimmer that made up the room’s
main protection, paying closer attention to the walls.  This time around, I
caught sight of seams in the wall.  A closer examination showed that this may
be a door.  Normally this would be good news, but I presently lacked hands
solid enough to open it.  This made it a tad tricky.  With one last imaginary
breath, I let myself realize that I really had no body and therefore lacked the
substance that would make a door the barrier it should be.  As soon as my
hindbrain realized this, I felt the riptide of the anchor take hold and I began
to move.  This would have been good except it was in the wrong direction.  I
marshaled my force of will to propel my point of view towards the door and
slowly came to a halt, and then even more shakily started to move in the right
direction.

As
I passed through the door, I noticed the colors of the world faded, leaving
only shades of gray.  Apparently there was no light in the next room, and only
my exceptional vision allowed me to see.  Go me.  I studiously avoided thinking
of my sheer lack of physical eyes.  I stopped myself and once more began the
process to trick myself into believing I had a physical presence.  It was more
difficult this time.  The sensations I forced myself into experiencing came
back one at a time.  The floor, then the air in my lungs, and finally the feel
of the clothes against my skin.  I think I also had some imaginary sweat
dripping from my nonexistent face.  It was much harder than the first time. 
Apparently the mental fatigue was setting in.  Not to mention that going
through walls and doors made it harder to pretend you were solid.

When
I could spare the energy to take in my surroundings, I smiled.  I was in a
small study.  To one side I saw shelves set into the wall that was stacked with
ingredients.  Doubtless concoctions of gold, silver, mercury, blood and dozens
more chemicals for use in drawing circles and wards.  Wards like those that
glowed softly in my sight on the walls and floor.  Smaller and simpler in
purpose than the large circles outside the room, they were similar in
function.  Fire, death, paralysis all triggered by physical movement on the
door.  The paralysis was new and the wards, although they functioned to bring
into being the same phenomena as the circle, they were also very different. 
Runic shorthand invoking the fundamental entities tied to the bedrock of
reality, the firmament.  These wards could have an expression on the physical
that my own primitive wards at home could never hope to.  I was a bit concerned
about powering wards through ties to unknown entities, but I knew enough to
realize that this was indeed the correct way to create one.  Supposedly, it was
like using a solar panel to absorb energy from the sun.  The sun never misses
it and hopefully doesn't get pissed at what you're doing with it.  In theory.

Forcing
my attention from the wards, I swept the rest of the room with my eyes.  The
elaborate desk in the center of the room looked out of place.  It was of far
higher quality than the shelves and covered in scattered parchment, some of
which had fallen to the floor.  Against the second wall was a folding table
with the various instruments of alchemy adorning it.  They resonated with ideas
and concepts deep inside me; my ancestors were masters of alchemy and I knew
that if I just thought about it a little more, secrets I never knew or even
occurred to me would be revealed.  I blinked and looked away.  Noticing I had
drifted a few feet closer to the door, I firmed my resolve and looked at the
final wall... and almost lost all my hard earned concentration.  Books lined
the walls ensconced in their sturdy little shelves.  I forgot to breathe and
had to force myself to remember my body.  Why the heck were these still here?

Well
then, Christmas came early this year.  Assuming I could find a way to get to
these before they were all burnt to ashes or the owners came back.  I walked
over to the imbedded shelves and scanned the titles.  At first I couldn't read
them, then, in a slightly disorienting wave of vertigo, the language resolved
itself into coherence.  A lot of books of general references.  Apparently whoever
owned this study had a mediocre memory and needed help to remember the details
of alchemy.  I shrugged; the person's mastery of circle and symbology more than
made of for this foible, in my mind.  There were many books that had titles
that were promising, but ambivalent.  They seemed to hint that they were arcane
in nature, but not obviously so.  And finally, what I was looking for: books
whose titles included wards and circles.  Far fewer than the others.  I can
only suppose that a master at a trade wouldn't need so many reference books.

I
sat on the desk and pretended to myself that it was supporting me. So many
riches and I couldn't touch them.  I couldn't see the entire wealth of books,
but they didn't seem to be trapped with wards.  I could only assume that the
circle master believed that it was sufficient to ward the door, and he knew the
final trigger would purge this entire area.  Unless he thought he was coming
back.  After all, the barrier was almost impervious by purely physical means
without destroying large portions of the city, and the self-destruct wouldn't
trigger for a few days.  Maybe he was coming back.  If that was the case, I
would have to leave a surprise in place.

Shaking
my head, I stood up again and returned my attention to the desk.  The papers
were written in the same language as the books and I read what was visible.  It
mostly seemed to be a report from the zombie master, Baron Samedi.  Apparently,
they were two different people.  Considering the sloppiness of the circles in
the house of carnage the police found in the Blight, the owner of the desk and the
lab was likely his superior.  Talent doesn't always equal authority, but it's
usually a good guess when it comes to magic cabals.

As
I read of the parchment, my eyebrows rose.  Evidently these fellows came from a
dimension similar to my own.  Too much magic in the world causing massive
random holes to other dimensions.  The reports the circle mage got from home
were pretty grim.  Lots of rampaging demons and many fatalities.  The pages I
saw that seemed from Baron were reconnaissance reports.  No references were
made to any gangs or crimes, which made me wonder if the fellow had his own
side game going on.  I would love to have heard the reason Baron Samedi gave
for why the police were storming the base.  If the crumpled papers on the floor
and the chair standing tilted against the wall were any evidence, someone was
upset.

I
was about to go back to the bookcase, when I got a glimpse of something that
stopped me cold.  One page was covered with Baron's report, but I could make
out the Chinese closing signature.  Jin had signed it.

I
barely stopped myself from floating through the door again as I regained my
focus.  I looked at the covered page and back at the bookcase, and shrugged. 
Oh well, the city’s two most powerful beings were connected.  As bad as that
was, I now had an opportunity I had been waiting all year for. 

I
walked slowly towards the bookcase.  Just like I could use psionic energy to
teleport myself short distances, I could also teleport things that had been in
extensive contact with my aura to my hand and, though more difficult, teleport
objects away from me.  The astral plane is not truly a separate dimension.  It
is so intertwined with the physical world that it may be better described as
the next layer of the physical dimension.  Each of the dimensions has its own
astral plane, but I was damned if I knew if they interconnected.  I doubted it,
but I had always been wary of exploring it too far.  It’s really not meant for
those that have bodies.   Nevertheless, with enough effort it is possible to
manipulate the other realm from its opposite.  It's just really difficult.  I
looked at the shelves of books and I swear my mouth dripped ghostly saliva. 
That was worth a lot of effort.

I
moved until my technically insubstantial body was pressed up against the
books.  It took a little bit of contortion, but I was able to stretch out and
contact as many of the books as possible.  I won't go into details about my
positioning, because I have no doubts in my mind that I looked thoroughly
absurd.  I didn't care at that moment.  I gave over all my attention to where I
wanted to send the books and flooded the volumes with my energies while pushing
them through space.

It
felt like my head was exploding and at the same time my ghostly body had sprung
a leak.  My life force rushed out, giving me the illusion that I was being propelled
back out of the room and through the door, across the circle chamber and tumbling
through the wall.  I attempted to gather my focus, but after all the energy I
had expelled, it was impossible to round up enough to convince myself that I
had a physical presence and I shouldn't be able to be sucked through the
intervening space to my personal anchor, located in that tiny out of the way
alley that I had done my best to avoid for a year. 

The
scenery flew by in a blur, everything blending together.  The very fact I saw
shades of light and dark and colors mixed in the fog should have proved that I
had finally been drawn back to the surface.  I could have attempted to stop my
travel to my own personal magnetic north but by then I was tired and dazed and
barely cognizant of anything.

I
have no idea how long it was before it finally registered that the world had
stopped moving.  I was drifting on top of the rune that tied me to this place. 
I was so tired and strung out that I may have been in danger of spreading out
until my consciousness was completely snuffed out, except for that same anchor
that would not allow me to let go.  It tied me to one point much like a kite
blowing in the wind but unable to move.

This
was a mixed blessing, as I was held to the rune in an almost comatose state. 
Too tired to move and unable to let go.  Those with physical bodies are not
welcome inhabitants of this plane, and I would not be getting any more energy
from rest without my physical shell to provide safe harbor.  So I floated in a
single disembodied point of view and endured.

I
must have zoned out because when the world started to register again I was back
in my physical body.  While I suppose I should have been grateful, I also had a
migraine that would not allow me to think of anything else, and there were
people nearby that wouldn't shut up. 

“You’re
fortunate I haven't let the police pick you up already,” a familiar deep voice
was growling.  “I am giving you miles of leeway but I need something to tell
the mayor when it’s reported that a civilian detective and the Professor were walking
around the crime scene, and then said detective was seen carrying the other
like a sack of potatoes all over the city.”

“You'll
know as soon as the Professor wakes up,” Jeremy's voice drifted to my ears,
setting off renewed explosions of pain. 

“Why
do I have to wait for him to wake up in the first place?” the other asked.  At
this point, I was able to identify the voice.  Conrad.

“Either
shut up or shoot me,” I groaned.  Shooting was sounding good, except it
wouldn't kill me and the jarring would probably just cause more pain.  I moved
my arm over my eyes which helped keep the light out and felt around with my
other hand.  The unnaturally smooth surface of the rune was underneath me, and
the alley wall was next to me. I struggled to push myself up against the wall.

“Well,
he seems to be awake, if not happy about it,” my friend offered.  “How about we
give him a few minutes to get himself together?”

“Fine,”
the large shifter grunted.  A moment later, I heard their footsteps recede and
heard their faint voices, apparently from the entrance.

“How
did you guys even know we were there?  Derek said your sensors would be
useless.  Did you set up a string of tin cans we didn't notice?”

“Believe
it or not that was one of the things they suggested.  Fortunately, cooler heads
prevailed and we settled for surveillance.”

“I'm
pretty sure I would have noticed someone following us.”

“Not
on you!  Until now, I didn't realize the Professor and his flunky needed a
keeper.  The surveillance was on sewer entrance.  That plus an older system
allowed us some minimum coverage.”

“Flunky? 
That's a bit harsh,” Jeremy trailed off.  I imagine it was hard to argue too
vigorously about the description.  After all, I did hire him to do a lot of my
work.

“I
like to think of Jeremy as a subcontractor,” I croaked out.  My spirit was
slowly synching to my body again and the pain was slowly fading away.  The
exhaustion was still there though.  I was drained even more thoroughly than I
had been the night before.  I hadn't even thought that was possible.