Chapter 6: 6)

6)

Cassy – In what was left of the parking lot of the Party-Mart.

I came up behind the young woman as she warily stepped back from a wet spot on the ground near the edge of the parking lot. From there I could see the little pale green flecks mixed in with the water on the pavement.

“Lieutenant Cassy Varrow, State police. What happened here?”

The woman, who I could now confirm as the roommate, Salome “Sally” Kinkade, jumped a bit at the sound of my voice. Then she turned around and started to step back from me before freezing in place as she realized this would put her back up against the police tape which was right in front of the wet spot on the pavement. The spot which she had been trying to get away from. This caused her to stumble off balance and awkwardly shuffle off to one side. Much to her annoyance.

She was dressed for driving around on the bike that was parked nearby. A set of worn denim jeans, ones without the fashionable tears, and a rolled up to the elbows long sleeved gray cotton button up shirt worn like a jacket over a red sports bra.

In appearance, she was average height, light skinned with long wavy brown hair, sharp features, and startling green eyes.

Of course, since all wild mages were shapeshifters this was only the appearance she had for the moment.

I looked around again for Johanson, wondering where he was, as he should not have wandered off while someone was hanging around an incident scene. “Miss Kinkade, what happened to Officer Johanson?”

Now she looked more nervous than annoyed. "It wasn’t me! That was portal magic. I can't do that without several hours of sketching out a circle with a dozen reference books.”

Portal Magic? I looked at the wet spot again, focusing on the little green bits. Swamp water?

“Okay, what exactly happened here? And start over again from the beginning.”

She was quickly going from nervous to defensive, crossing her arms and glaring up at me.

“I came back to my apartment and found out it was now a big ass hole in the ground. Your goon starting telling me some story about a gas leak, which I know is bullshit since the store didn't have a gas line. Then he dropped into a portal with a blue nimbus and some swamp water splashed up before it closed. End of story.”

I held up my hand. “Got it, and it won't take much to verify your story since the store I just walked out of has a camera pointed this way, but I am going to ask you to hang around until I can check the recording. However, first I want to see what I can do about the officer whose life may be in danger.”

She started looking like she was going to get belligerent until the last bit made her look over at the wet spot with some concern.

“Yeah okay, do whatever you need to do, I’ll stick around. Not like I got anywhere to be right now anyways.”

Now I don’t have the talent to juggle a dozen symbols in my head for spell weaving without a ritual circle, let alone the personal mana reservoir, but I have enough training to do simple cantrips without getting out chalk and salt. The Latin words for vision and mana visualized together gave me a glimpse of the outer ring of an active spell creeping slowly back toward the pit where the Party-mart had once stood. A spell that was, way, way, more complicated than my ability to understand.

Then it was just gone like it suddenly got pulled away and off too far for me to see it. Off in a direction not defined by the normal three dimensions.

“He's widdershins, out of this layer of reality. Let's go look at the recording so you can get out of here and see if I can get a clue as to where he went."

Martin – In the shifting lands as the lands shifts.

True to its nature, the shifting lands shifts on a fairly regular basis. Right now it’s a sandy wasteland with scattered light brown egg shaped stones with glittering lines of trace materials running through them. A rough circle of a dozen or so of these stones as large as upended cars surrounded the store. With some other ones lying on their sides further off. A slight breeze brought an acidic banana like smell.

Oh, and the sky is pale yellow with a green sun about twice the size of our own. I don't know what kind of UV rays a green sun puts out, so I thought it might be a good idea to get back into the store.

All and all, not one of the more pleasant realms.

Johanson was pacing back and forth along the front of the store trying to talk his way past a gauntlet of transfers attempting to find someone willing to take the responsibility of either giving him my aunt’s number or calling her themselves.

Finally, he got someone to at least agree to pass on a message with my phone number to her and reluctantly started to hand me my phone back after I cleared my throat and gestured for it.

He then finally noticed the new landscape which distracted him enough that I could pry my phone out of his hand.

Although the group of what I can only describe as ant centaurs, except both the horse and person halves were ants, hefting some wickedly barbed spears were standing on the top of a rise about a few hundred feet away.

I would concede that this may have been more of the focus of his distraction.

Well, here comes the neighborhood. “I really think we should get inside now.”

Johanson nodded “Yeah.”

As we got inside the store, I paused with my finger on the deadbolt. In addition to the spear and ax combination weapons they were carrying, they also had some woven looking straps and belts holding pouches and bags tied off around their bodies and what I now realized was a sort of pullover and strap down coats of dark brown plates woven together with cords almost like a suit of samurai armor.

Or as Johanson was muttering under his breath. “Halberds, short hafted kanabos, kusazuri and sode...” He stopped to look over at me. “Are you going to lock that?”

“On reflection, I don't think an eighth of an inch of security glass is going to hold them back much if they want in. Besides, they use tools which makes them people and they might be offended if lock the door on them. This is a store."

He looked back at the now advancing group of a dozen or so ant guys. “Right. People.”

He checked his gun and some other things on his belt with a resigned look on his face as he spoke to himself.”

“This is the job.”

He stepped outside to wait for the ant guys, and a moment later I joined him. At his look, “This is my store.”

It was the least I could do, if we were about to die a horrible death, at least he would not have to wait for it alone.

Plus, you know, I did only have cantrips, but within those limits, I could do a few things in the right situation.

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Donovan- curled up into a ball on the floor of the Party-mart.

Ow, fucking ow.

At least the pain seemed to go away nearly as fast as I had healed up from getting fucking stabbed in the face by a ‘roided out psycho bitch.

Oh shit, she’s glaring at me. Did any I say any of that out loud?

She poked me with her foot. "Stop crying and get up." she glanced at the redhead, Damia? who nodded.

“You have your owner’s permission. Get up.”

The next poke of her foot was more of a kick to the ribs. “Now!”

I scrabbled up to my feet, as I looked around for a direction to run. Big and mean, Clarice, stepped over to block me off from the back of the store.

Damia snapped her fingers at me. “Pincushion, pay attention”

Pincushion? Oh, right, with the stabbing.

“Without pissing off Clarice, or me, or even Linda. “ The cutey with the hooves I’m guessing, “Tell me how this store went to hell and who you are.”

Hell?

“No don’t get that lost look on your face you little twerp, just start talking.’

Twerp! I started to tell her off when Clarice coughed and slowly reached up for the handle of the sword on her back again. No, nope, no way do I want to get stabbed in the face again.

I look back at the hotty and promised myself that me and that bitch will talk about this later when we were alone.

"I came into the store late at night to get some snacks for the road and the guy behind the counter was muttering and fooling around with something. Then this light began to shine and everything outside changed."

“What happened to the guy?”

I shrugged “Dunno.”

My answer seemed to annoy her. Good.

“Why were you passed out on the floor?”

“Bounced off the door when the light hit me.”

Clarice interrupted. “Why was the gun fired.’

“A mother fucking demon showed up, gun didn't do shit to him.”

The gothy girl, Linda spoke up “Wait, you shot Roxir, the first prince of Ma’shihith and he didn't kill you?”

I reflexively reached up at my chest, “Didn't get the asshole’s name, but some demon dickhead fucking ripped my heart out.’

Clarice smiled. "Well, now we know who he meant by some immortal twit."

Damia smirked “Might want to get used to it minion, he holds grudges.”

Fuck.

She began counting on her fingers. “Building displaced from the mortal world, unclaimed, protected by spells, indestructible minion on staff.” she twirled around. “It’s slumming a little, but a girl has got to start somewhere.”

“Now where is my throne.”

Throne, minion? What the hell?

Big girl looked around “Manager’s office most likely, looks like that’s it over there.”

The three of them ignored me to walk over to the little office at the back of the store, where after a moment their leader Damia plunked her ass down on the shiny, tall backed office chair, one of those fake leather ones made to look like one of those old time fancy chairs.

“I Damia Scratch, princess of Perdition, claim this domain as my own.”

Don’t know what’s that all about, but the way to the front door was open and the other two seemed to be pretty intent on whatever bitchy mcprincess was up to.

The door closed behind me as I stood outside looking at a burnt out forest and a bunch of purple black evil looking rocks. Whatever, get away for now from the psycho bitches and figure it out later

Only the moment I step off the asphalt of the parking lot it’s like stepping in front of an open oven, hot, burning hot on my skin. The air feeling like their nothing to it, and it’s stabbing me with needles all over, even into my eyes and the insides of my lungs. I can't breathe and it is all I can do to turn and stumble back to the edge of the parking lot.

I can just hear Clarice inside the store. “Told you he would run, and that he wouldn't get far. Punk ass little bitch just can’t take the heat.”

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