Your line appears fine, he said, then strode into the meadow for a closer look.
Embarrassed, I unfocused my attention even more, almost losing my vision of reality as I focused on the ever-after. A gritty red haze overlaid itself across the quiet green to make the trees look black. My tennis shoes brushed through the dry grass, sending up puffs of imaginary ever-after dust as I followed him. Sending a thought out, I connected more firmly to the line, letting the force of it pour through me, shocking me awake. Still it felt okay, and I carefully tasted the energy, hearing the pure sound/color and calling it good.
Id created this line by accident when sliding through realities. It carried the taint of my aura, differentiating it from everyone elses and making line jumps possible. But the memory of burning my aura off was still too new for me to try line jumping again, especially with Bis sleeping until sundown.
Slowly I came to a weed-shushing halt beside Trent. It looks fine, he said, squinting at it in the sun. When was the last wave?
Ivy said one went through about five this morning. Not that it made much difference. We had yet to find a pattern to them. Most Inderlanders except pixies and elves wouldve been asleep right about then. Was it just luck, or was someone trying to minimize the misfires?
The tall grass smelled wonderful, and I tugged at a knee-high tuft of it as I listened to the crickets. I breathed deep, smelling the hot grass and the July heat rising up from the earth, enjoying how it mixed with Trents scent of shortbread and winemaking me wish we were here for some other reason than checking for telltale signs of wild magic.
Im going to check it out from the inside, Trent said, startling me.
Im starting to think you like the smell of burnt amber, I said, and he surprised me with his sudden flash of embarrassment.
Its more to do with not having Quen lurking about, he admitted as he strode right into my line, reminding me that he had one running through his office and probably was used to the idea. The ever-after is very . . . I dont know. Clean in a way? Uncluttered?
Thats not how Id describe the ever-after. It was uncomfortable, the sun was too bright, the wind too cutting, and the grit getting into everything. And it smelled. The only thing able to survive on the surface for any length of time were the indigenous gargoyles who slept during the day, and surface demons, who werent really demons at all.
But the nasty things wouldnt be out in the daylight, and I watched Trent look over Lovelands lush setting, knowing he was seeing it as if standing in the ever-after himself.
His thought-provoking harrumph pulled me closer, and I dipped my hand right into the line to feel the energy push against it, sort of like wind except that the flowing sensations came from all directions, not just one. I played with it, cupping the energy and trying to pull it from the line only to have it spill back into its course as if it was magnetized.
Trent turned at my intrusion, a startled look on him. Theres someone on the surface.
Surface demon? I blurted, stepping into the line so as to see better. Immediately the sensation of gritty wind strengthened as the clean, moist heat of the summer meadow was entirely replaced by the sucking heat of the desert.
No, its a girl! he said, and my concern focused to a sharp point.
Newt, I thought even before I saw her. I dont see . . . I hesitated, finding a dancing figure in white just across the shallow riverbed, jumping to catch something over her head. Oh. Ah, I think thats Newt.
Trents attention jerked to me. Newt? he said, clearly doubtful. Mmmm. Maybe we should show our respects.
Jeez Louise, he wanted to go over? Id just gotten the burnt-amber stink out of my hair. But my immediate refusal to shift realities faltered. If anyone could give me an answer about wild magic, it might be Newt. As the ever-afters only female demon, and not entirely sane all the time, she was a font of informationif you could figure it out.
Why not, I said, reaching out to find his hand. Ill do it.
He started, his grip becoming firmer as he gave me an appreciative smile. Shifting realities wasnt hard when you were standing in a ley line. Any elf trained could do it, and witches. No one did because up until recently, it usually resulted in being kidnapped and forced into slavery. It was like stepping through a door where line jumping was like a transporter. This, I could do. But so could Trent.
Eyes closed, I felt the lines resonance, making minute changes to my aura to match it exactly. A weird titillating feeling raced through me as I tried to hold on to everything and shift Trents aura at the same time. With an odd inward sensation, I felt my insides shrink to nothing, taking us with it. The line became my world, and I snapped a protection bubble into place, the shimmer on it the same as the lines.
All that was left was to artificially shift my aura to push us back out, and with a jerk, reality re-formed. My balance was off, and I lurched until Trent caught my arm. The red glare of the ever-after sun slammed into me, and the gritty wind lifted through my hair. I love it here, I whispered sarcastically.
Trent was smiling, making me wonder why until he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. Most shifts like that would cost someone their soul, he said softly.
Uneasy, I scanned the horizon, watching the heat shimmer up from the rocks. It still might, I said, then began to walk toward the lithesome shape Newt made dancing in the heat. As I watched, a lump of dusty rock seemed to shake itself, evolving into a tall figure in a top hat, crushed green velvet tails furling as he spun to see us. Al. Great.
Is that . . . Trent said as he slid down the shallow incline that was the river in reality.
Yep. This was so not what I wanted, but wed been spotted, and leaving would only bring him barging into my church. Dont tell him about the wild magic following me, okay? I whispered as Trent scrambled up the other side and extended a hand to help me up.
Not a problem.
My pulse hammered as we closed the gap. I didnt like Trents eagerness, nor that Newt had seen us and was energetically waving. She looked like a fourteen-year-old girl, verging on womanhood in a long nightgown that did little to hide what was underneath, her figure slight with early adolescence. Clearly not one of her better days. Id seen Newt as a child before, and she gave me the willies. You do know shes nuts, right? I said as Trent hustled us forward. Al had his hands on his hips, looking nothing like Jenks, and was frowning at me.
Yoo-hoo! Did you come to catch fireflies? Newt called, and Trents pace bobbled when a black film of ever-after slithered over her and her thin, childlike shape grew to the more usual, androgynous, hairless, barefoot, martial-arts-uniform-clothed Newt that Id once found hammering holes in my back living room. They make fine nightlights for when the world ends, she added, and then, as her eyes traveled over me, she gave herself hair, a sundress, and a big, wide-brimmed hat. Hi, Rachel.
Yoo-hoo! Did you come to catch fireflies? Newt called, and Trents pace bobbled when a black film of ever-after slithered over her and her thin, childlike shape grew to the more usual, androgynous, hairless, barefoot, martial-arts-uniform-clothed Newt that Id once found hammering holes in my back living room. They make fine nightlights for when the world ends, she added, and then, as her eyes traveled over me, she gave herself hair, a sundress, and a big, wide-brimmed hat. Hi, Rachel.
Crap on toast, she looked like my mother, and I dropped my eyes before she could see my shock. Trent valiantly struggled for words, pulling himself together to extend his hand to Al. Algaliarept. Well met, he said, and Al all but bared his teeth.
Call me Al, he said, clearly not liking wed found him up here with Newt. I insist.
Al, Trent said simply, his hand falling as he turned to Newt. Newt. Good to see you.
Newt beamed, seemingly coy as she focused on him. Hello, Trenton Aloysius Kalamack, she said, and he stiffened at her seductive tone. Beside me, Al sighed. Youre looking dapper out in the ever-after sun. Id forgotten how the light hits elven hair.
She sidled up to him and I backed out of her way. Id advise not moving. Al said, and Trent froze.
Ooooh, so soft, even when its full of grit. Come home with me and Ill wash it for you.
Ah . . . he stammered, and Newt spun to me, her hair now looking exactly like mine, frizz and all.
Rachel. Love. You want to trade? I have Nicholas Gregory Sparagmos about somewhere. I put him somewhere safe. I cant remember exactly, but if I put my mind to it, Im sure I can find him.
Nick? Shaking my head emphatically, I grabbed Trents arm and pulled him to me. No. Thanks anyway.
No? she echoed, her expression falling. Pity. Im catching fireflies, she said, black eyes a startling contrast to her innocent oblivion as she worked the lid off the large jar now in her hand. Firefly, firefly, glowing there in the sky, she sang, dancing away with the jar swinging in the air as a film of ever-after coated her and she was fourteen and sickly again. Play with me and dont be shy. Bring your light that will not die. Pretty little firefly.
Trents face was pale as he watched her dance in the red light hammering down on us. She wasnt like that before.
Ruddy face sour, Al swung his cane in a wide circle and watched her. It comes and goes. We tried chaperoning her, dosing her into forgetfulness, spelling her into memory . . . He shuddered. Nothing seems to work but Rachel.
Me?
Al gave me an unreadable look. Its especially bad when shes remembered something. Thats why I came up here. I dont like her mucking about with your line. Which is fine, by the way. Why are you here? With that elf? he finished darkly.
Uneasy, I licked my lips, immediately wishing I hadnt when acidic dust coated my tongue. I might ask the same of you, I said, avoiding him.
Id forgotten how barren it is up here, Trent said, pointedly changing the subject, and Al pulled his eyes from Newt, hopping about as she tried to catch something in her Mason jar.
Yes . . . he drawled. You made a fucking mess before you left us to die in it.