The Box Omnibus #1 (The Box, The Journal, The Sword) (17 page)

“Going to open your eyes or what?” I recognize the sound of Cindy tapping her fingers on her thigh.

My face twists in disgust. “I can’t open them with this gook all over my face.”

She sighs and the bed shifts as she jumps off and rushes away. I catch myself imitating her finger tap and force myself to stop. I can’t get too excited yet. Not until I know one way or another. She returns after only a few seconds and presses some sort of material to my skin, holding it there until I take it and wipe off my face.

As soon as I open my eyes I close them again.

“Well?” she asks.

I can’t speak. Hysterical sobs form at the back of my throat, but I manage to swallow them back. Finally I shake my head, but I’m sure she already understands from the look on my face.

“Shit,” she growls.

For once she’s understating how I feel.

“Shit, shit, shit. It should have worked. There was enough magic in the stuff to heal anything. Combined with my specialty with vision, it should have been more than enough.”

I feel like I should be comforting her somehow. At least let her know it’s not her fault and thank her for trying. Instead I focus on not letting more tears come.

Cindy touches my face a few times, as though that will make a difference. “There must be something else. There must be some other plant, or magical item, or maybe we could find another sorceress, or
—“

“No.” I speak firmly to stop her from saying any more.

“Lou, I can fix this. You have to trust me.”

“How dangerous would a search be?” I ask, knowing she has no answer. “How long would it take? And what if it’s all for nothing? What if nothing can
make this better?”

She wavers for a minute. “I have to do something.”

“And what about Mom? Are we going to leave her wondering if we’re alive or dead?” I don’t want to start another argument, but she has to know we can’t stay forever. “We have to go back. We belong there.”

“Yeah, but, what if we don’t really?” she says.

Her question confuses me. “Of course we do.”

“But think about it. Why don’t we see witches and wizards and sorceresses in our world?” She waits a beat, but I don’t say anything. “Maybe they don’t belong there. Maybe they all come from this world and have gone through a portal like the one in Gran’s house. What if the only reason we were born in our world was because Gran came from here? It would mean this is where we’re supposed to be.”

I shake my head. In some weird way she makes sense, but this still isn’t our home.

“We can’t do that to Mom.”

She heaves the longest sigh I’ve ever heard and settles farther back on the bed until I hear a thud which I can only imagine is her head hitting the wall.

“She’s going to kill me,” Cindy says after a minute.

I groan. “You and me both.”

She laughs. “You? No. You’re her perfect princess, remember? I’m older than you and it isn’t like this is my first offense. Plus, I not only allowed you to regain your magic, but also have the same magic sucked out of you, which put you in a coma, and then made you blind. Oh no, she’s going to do worse than murder me.”

“Maybe we should leave out the magic and coma stuff.” I snort.

She’s not as amused. “What about the blindness thing? Tell her you woke up one morning and, oops, you couldn’t see?”

“Well,” I say. “It’s the truth.”

She groans and I can sense her move her arms like she’s messing up her hair with both hands.

“Fine,” she says. “I’ll call her. Think you can get my phone to work here?”

“Don’t know,” I admit. “I’ll try.”

When she hands me her phone, at first I have no idea where to begin. And then I remember the spell with Al. It seemed to work because of a combination of willing it to and being able to connect to him in a way I can’t quite explain. It was like there was no difference between where I ended and he began. Everything is a different level of energy, and it’s simply a matter of shaping my magic to connect rather than conflict with the energy.

Or, at least, that
might
be how it works.

I focus on the phone the same way I’d focused on Al. At first, all I can feel is the cold plastic. There isn’t a trace of magic in the thing. It’s kind of like the technology repels the energy everything else is packed with. As I concentrate, I notice a slight change in the feel of the phone. The cool temperature shifts as it absorbs the heat from my hand. If it can absorb warmth, then it can also take in my magic.

The tingling barely registers in my mind as I gently press my magic into the plastic and let it bleed into every inch of the thing. Once I can feel the phone as though it’s a simple, though odd, extension of myself, I hand it back to Cindy.

“I think it will work,” I tell her.

“Perfect.” She stands up from the bed and starts pacing. “And so you know, you make faces when you’re using your magic.” I open my mouth to protest but she interrupts by announcing, “Amazing, it’s actually ringing.”

I sneer and roll my eyes. “Thanks for the confidence.”

There’s a click indicating someone on the other end of the line has picked up. “Listen, Mom, before you say anything, things aren’t nearly as bad as they seem,” Cindy says quickly, making me cringe as I can imagine Mom’s reaction. There wasn’t much worse she could have started with.

But when the sound of Cindy pacing suddenly stops, I notice the noise from the other side of the phone isn’t Mom’s screams as I expect. Instead it’s deeper. A man’s voice. But who...

“Stewart,” Cindy says at the same moment I realize who’s on the other line. Her voice cuts out as she says the word and she’s forced to take a couple of sharp breaths before saying, “What do you want?”

I can’t make out most of what he says, but there’s no mistaking the word “box.” The rest doesn’t matter. I know what he wants and he’s got a bargaining chip we can’t ignore. Mom. The air seems to grow heavier as everything around me slows and blurs. It can’t be real. This can’t be happening. Not now. Things are starting to be okay again. I can deal with the blindness. I can go back home and maybe even get along with Cindy and everything will be almost normal again.

“Where do you want to do the exchange?” Cindy’s voice no longer holds the fear it did before, instead sounding cold and emotionless. I don’t know which frightens me more, her being afraid or her giving up.

“Fine,” she finishes and the sound of Stewart’s voice is gone.

Neither of us says a word. There’s no need. I reach over to my purse, find the box and hand it over. But to my surprise, she doesn’t take it.

“What are you waiting for?” I ask. “We have to go make the exchange. Who knows what he’s going to do to her. What he’ll get
Borin to do.”

“It’s not going to be so easy,” she says.

She leaves the room, still without taking the box from my hand. I stand and stumble my way after her. Luckily she hasn’t gone far. I run into her as her fist slams against wood, possibly another door. It has to be the one to Al’s sister’s room.

“What’s his game?” Cindy demands as soon as the door squeaks open.

“What are you talking about?” Al asks.

“You’re a wizard. You’ve been trained as one and while you might not want
to admit it, you think like one. So tell me, what’s Stewart’s end game?”

“What’s happened?” he asks. “What has he done?”

“He’s got our mother,” Cindy tells him. At the word mother, her voice breaks, revealing how close she is to tears, though I know she won’t show her fear for more than a second. She continues angrily. “He wants the box in exchange. But he’s not going to let it end with that, is he?”

“No,” Al agrees. “Not after you tricked him the way you did. How do you know he’s got her?”

“I talked to him. She was in the background.”

“Did she sound hurt?” I ask, desperate to know, but afraid of what Cindy might tell me. “Is she okay?”

“She sounded pissed,” she half laughs, though there’s a note of the same fear from earlier.

“And there’s no way it was a trick?” Al asks. “Maybe he was using magic to make it sound like it was her.”

“He answered her cellphone.” She chokes on her words but is able to continue on without pausing. “She never lets go of the thing. Plus, I know illusions, and that wasn’t one. Trust me, he’s got her.”

“And he says he wants the box,” Al confirms.

“We need to give it to him,” I say. I don’t understand why we’re discussing this right now; it all seems so simple to me. “We give it to him, he gives us Mom.”

“You would be making a mistake,” Al says.

“Why?” I ask. “I understand the box is magic and he’ll use it for evil, but it’s still only a box. We’re talking about our mother’s life.”

“Because it doesn’t matter if we give him the box, he’s not going to let any of us go,” Cindy says. “He will kill us all the second we hand the thing over.”

None of this feels real. Who would actually kill someone over a box? Even a magic one. Accepting magic as being real was easier than believing people like Stewart exist. And he’s got my mother right now.

“You do have one advantage, though,” Al reminds us. “He doesn’t know you brought Lou back. And he probably doesn’t think I’d stick around to help you either. I’ll bet he expects you to go alone.”

“He also doesn’t expect me to be coming from another world,” Cindy agrees. “But there’s something you’re not saying. What is it?”

He doesn’t speak for a long time.

“How bad is it?” Cindy asks, surprising me. I wish I could see Al’s face to know why she’s so worried, but then again, maybe I’m better off not seeing.

“It’s just, if you’re right and the voice wasn’t an illusion...”

“It wasn’t.”

“Then now you’ve heard it, there’s no reason for him to keep her alive.”

“No!” I don’t realize I’m repeating the word until I’ve said it at least half a dozen times. “He can’t. She can’t be...”

“There’s always a chance he’ll decide it’s better to keep her alive until you arrive,” he says, though I can hear the doubt in his voice.

Hands grip my shoulders and shake me several times, but I barely feel it. It’s impossible not to picture Mom’s body broken and bleeding on the floor with Stewart standing over her with a cruel smile spread across his face.

“Stop it,” Cindy says as she shakes me. “Do not fall apart now. Not when we need you more than ever. When Mom needs you.”

I push her hands off me and nod once.

“What do you want me to do?”

“There isn’t a choice,” Al says.

Before he finishes, I already know what he’s going to say.

“You need to kill Stewart.”

“Kill him?” My words come out meekly.

“It’s the only way,” Al says.

“Whoa, hold on now,” Cindy says. “We have magic now. I mean, not a lot and she’s still getting used to it, granted, but couldn’t there be another way?”

“A spell can be broken.” His warning sends a chill down my spine. “He would come after you stronger than ever.”

“We’re talking about
murder
.” I almost think Cindy is going to be reasonable for a minute. I should have known better. “How would we manage it? It’s not like he’s going to hand us a gun and say, ‘go to ‘er.’”

“Are you seriously saying you could?” I ask, horrified at the thought. I’m not sure
who I’m asking, though I suppose it doesn’t matter since I can’t picture either of them as murderers. “If you had the chance, could you really kill someone?”

“It’s him or you,” Al says.

“There has to be another way,” Cindy says. “Something not involving jail time.”

“Yes, or murder,” I say. “If you tell me what to do, I’m sure I can manage it. I’m starting to get the hang of this magic thing.”

Not exactly true, but I’m desperate to steer things away from killing. Every time they mention it, all I can see is blood and horror and I can’t open my eyes to make the images go away.

Cindy snaps her fingers. “The rock in the barn. Everyone froze stiff as long as they were looking at it. There has to be something more permanent we can use.”

“Maybe,” Al says. “I know a place where you might find a way.”

Cindy’s interest is p
iqued. “Is it close?”

“It’s your grandmother’s house.” Al doesn’t sound pleased to say as much.

“Can’t,” Cindy says. “Stewart’s waiting for us there. We need a plan before we go anywhere near the place.”

“He’s waiting in your world,” Al reminds us. “I’m talking about the version of the house here.”

I can practically feel Cindy’s excitement as she realizes he’s right, but I’m not convinced.

“How do we know he hasn’t found the portal already?” I ask. “He could be in this world right now. And do we know for sure there’s anything helpful there that’s worth risking it?”

“Maybe not,” Al says. “But I used to visit the house a lot as a child. There were items there, as if stored to keep them safe.”

“Not so safe if kids were getting into them,” Cindy says.

“That’s the thing, we never touched them.” He grows thoughtful. “It was as if there was something preventing us from getting too close. I didn’t understand it then, but I’m sure it was some sort of magic barrier.”

“And now we’ve got our very own sorceress to break the barrier.” Cindy claps me on the shoulder.

I think the tension might be getting to me because as soon as her hand touches me, I grab it and twist her arm enough she whimpers a little. I’m sure I scared her more than hurt her. Well, pretty sure. But she should have known better.

“Sorry,” I mumble and drop her hand.

“It’s good,” Al says when Cindy grumbles something about blind ninjas under her breath. “You need to be ready for anything. This isn’t going to be easy.”

“We don’t have much time,” Cindy says. “Let’s go see what’s being protected at Gran’s house.”

The walk is excruciating, with Cindy attempting to lead me at a pace I would have a hard time keeping up with even if I wasn’t blind. I catch my toes on what seems like every single rock and branch and the uneven ground does a number on my ankles. I end up falling and scraping the skin on the palms of my hands. Three times. I’m glad I’m wearing jeans or else the damage to my legs would be worse. As it is, every time the rough material scrapes my knees the skin rubs a little rawer.

When Cindy starts to slow down, I can only assume it’s because we’re almost at the house. Since no one’s spoken since we left Al’s, I can’t know for certain.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been here,” Al breaks the silence. “There’s a chance things aren’t exactly as I remember. Or someone’s come and already taken everything.”

“Got it,” Cindy says. “Expectations have been lowered. Now how about a way in?”

“Use the front door.”

Something jangles from Al’s direction.

“You have the keys from our world,” Cindy says.

“I do.” He shakes them again, and this time I recognize the sound.

“Are you going to give them to me?”

“No.” As Cindy
starts to protest, he stops her and continues. “There’s another set around back. Same place as these were. If we’re going to do this right, we’re going to need both sets.”

“Why?” I ask, as Cindy starts to complain some more.

“Because like I said before, even if we find something in here we can use, the best advantage we have is the fact he thinks Sin will go alone. This means we can’t all go through the portal to your world as one clumsy group.”

There’s a hint of suspicion in Cindy’s voice when she asks, “You’re going to go in with Lou?”

“Is that a problem?” He reveals nothing of how he feels.

“I don’t know,” Cindy says, equally as emotionless. “Is it?”

“It’s fine,” I say. “It makes sense for us to go together. Will Cindy go in first and then we’ll wait and follow?”

“Not exactly,” Al says.

Instead of explaining what he means, he steps away while Cindy pulls me to a stop. A few minutes later, we’re inside the house. The magic I’ve been sensing since waking intensifies until it feels like actual hands running over my arms and head, putting pressure on my chest and lungs. I double over, gasping for air as I push back the magic to a point where the pressure is tolerable.

“What is it?” Cindy asks. “Are you okay?”

I manage to straighten. “There’s definitely magic here. It’s not too friendly either.”

“Do you think Gran left it here?” she asks.

“If she did, I’m glad I was never on her bad side.”

Once I’ve managed to shove the pressure back a bit, the only thing still affected is my head. Every minute we stay in the room, the pounding grows a little worse. I’m not sure if it’s from the magic or from my struggling attempt to control it with my own power.

“Any chance we can go a little faster?” I press my hand to my forehead. “I’m starting to understand what a migraine feels like.”

“Over here.” Al guides us through a door where my arm scrapes against the frame, and leads us into what I think must be Gran’s study. The pressure increases and I know whatever the magic is supposed to keep us from is close.

“Is that it?” Cindy asks.

I wish more than anything my head wasn’t pounding so much so I could do the magic to see through her eyes. Instead I’m forced to clamp my hand harder to my head and hope someone tells me what’s happening soon.

“Yes,” Al says.

“I can’t look directly at it,” Cindy says. “Think it’s the same sort of magic as what hid the door?”

Al doesn’t answer which drives me insane. Don’t they know I’m relying on them to tell me what’s happening?

“Lou?” he says. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

I ignore the stupid question and point toward where the magic feels strongest. “Are the items in that area?”

He hesitates. “Yes, but...”

“Perfect.”

I carefully step toward the source of the power and am instantly hit by a more localized soreness between my eyes. I push back at the magic even harder and continue to move forward. If there’s something to help defeat Stewart and save Mom, there’s no way a little bit of pain is going to stop me from finding it.

I take another step and nearly collapse as the pressure smashes against my stomach, nearly knocking the wind out of me.

“Is her nose bleeding?” Cindy’s voice only half registers in my screaming mind.

But it doesn’t matter. I can feel the source of the magic now, its image burned into my mind without ever needing to actually see it with my eyes. A wax seal pressed on a folded piece of paper. So simple, and yet pulsing with power. Layers of magic fold into the wax as though the sorceress who created the spell spent days building it up to make it so powerful.

I’m also sure I wasn’t feeling nearly the full effect of the magic. It’s meant to hide the objects from average people and warn sorceresses away. But for a full wizard, the magic would rip him apart.

My hand feels like it’s moving through ever hardening concrete as I reach for the paper and seal. When it’s in my hand, I do the only thing I can think of that might work. I turn it to ash.

The flames engulf my hand, but compared to the pain of the foreign magic, I don’t notice the heat.

With the pressure of the spell gone along with the seal, I collapse onto my knees, exhausted and empty.

“You’re not going to puke are you?” Cindy asks.

I ignore her since the alternative is to think about the word she used and...

Cool fingers run through my hair and rest on the back of my neck, doing wonders for both my stomach and headache.

“Thanks,” I say to Al, standing with his help.

“Nice work with the fire,” he says.

“Honestly, I have my doubts I could do it again.” I bite my lip, wishing I was just being modest.

“I’m not surprised. Going up against a full sorceress’s spell when you barely have control over your magic, well, let’s say things could have gone a lot worse.”

“We’ve got a winner!” Cindy says.

I hadn’t
realized Cindy moved on to look at the items the magic protected. After the feeling of the guarding spell, the items barely have any magical qualities at all. It seems unlikely she could find something useful so fast.

“What is it?” I ask.

“This stuff,” she says. “All of it is described in the book I got from the box. Just a second while I try to figure out some of Gran’s short hand.”

I try to move a little closer to her, though I’m not sure why. It’s not like I can read the book over her shoulder. “You got one of Gran’s books.”

“Shh,” she says. “Reading. There’s a bunch of stuff in here on protection and hiding.” She flips through a few of the noisy pages. “I’m sure this object held the spell Lou took care of for us.”

“What about the rest
?” Al is clearly not as impressed by the book as Cindy. “Anything useful?”

Cindy doesn’t answer, I’m assuming because she’s too busy reading. Instead of waiting for her to explain what she’s found, I focus on the objects Al is checking out. I don’t have the strength yet to look through his eyes, but I can sense
the magic held within each item. They each give a different feel depending on how big or small it is, or whether it’s natural or manmade. So much information can be sensed through the magic, I can picture each item perfectly in my mind.

One in particular catches my attention.

“Is that a telephone?” I point in the general direction of a particularly odd bit of magic.

The strange part is, much like when I attempted to put magic into the cell phone, there’s a strong feeling of technology acting as a barrier. Instead of keeping the magic out as it had with mine, it’s wrapped around a big slab of magic as though holding it inside. What it looks like is also the most clear in my mind. A fairly big base with a circular disk on the front and a hand held piece attached by a curling wire. I’d seen one at Gran’s house when I was younger, and I used to have fun putting my fingers into the holes of the disk and turning, then having it go back into place all on its own.

“Wait,” Cindy calls out. “Don’t touch anything.”

“What’s wrong?” Al asks, and I
realize it’s him reaching for the phone.

“
There’s a lot more to these items then protection and hiding. Dangerous stuff.”

“
Such as what?” A few footsteps follow and I’m pretty sure Al’s gone to stand with Cindy.

“I don’t know yet.” She flaps the book, causing a slight breeze in the room. “Still reading. Just don’t touch for now, alright?”

I let them talk as I continue to concentrate on the rotary phone. There’s something else both familiar and completely foreign about how it feels. The magic inside is wrong but I can’t quite figure how.

Suddenly Cindy gasps and starts to get excited.

“Do you know the story of the genie in the lamp?” she asks. “Find a lamp, rub it three times and a genie will pop out to give you three wishes.”

It’s almost as though the magic
in the phone is fragmented. As if it’s made up of a bunch of magic from a number of people. But even that isn’t exactly right. There’s something else.

There’s amusement in Cindy’s voice. “Well, either I know how the story was started, or Gran was inspired to try it out herself. Except instead of using a lamp, she’d use anything around her. And instead of a genie, she’d trap wizards.”

I feel sick as I realize exactly what I sense inside the phone. It’s not a spell by a bunch of people, but magic stolen and contaminated by a wizard.

“You’re saying there are wizards inside each of these objects?” Al asks while taking a step away from the table and bumping into me.