The Anomaly

R.B. Winters

The Anomaly

2

© 2010 by R.B. Winters. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publishers, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine or journal. First printing

ISBN: 144998309X PUBLISHED BY CREATESPACE wwwrobertbrianwinters.com

New York Printed in the United States of America

R.B. Winters

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For my Aunt Leesa

We’re waiting under the apple tree

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R.B. Winters

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Table of contents

1. Sisters of the Black Circle

2. Megnificent Plans

3. Orbs & Prophecy

4. The Loop

5. Starting over yet again

6. The truth inside

7. The council house

8. Terrable times

9. The places you’ll go

10. New faces, old places

11. Letting your guard down

12.dirty little secret

13. Foreign applications

14. The summoning

15. See what I see

16. Deadland realms

17. fate

18. accadia

19. Three times three

20. Melissa’s revenge

21. endings

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22. The real me

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1 .

Sisters of the Black Circle

andles flickered dimly about the stale

room, clinging to the ancient black

holders that curled out from the

roughly forged walls. Several poorly formed

pillars of gray stone supported the ceiling

that stretched beyond the glow of the orange

candlelight. The center of the room was

occupied by five cloaked figures. They moved

in a synchronized fashion around an enormous

mound of gray; lowly chanting a haunting

spell.

“The universe unwind, planets collide,

threads combine. Linear time, demon design,

threat to rewind. Form of gray, light of

day, hidden away,” speaking in perfect

harmony through their exhaustion.

Unwavering in their form, the figures

C

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followed one another in hypnotic fashion.

Their robes billowed behind, sweeping along

the silent floor, trying to keep up. The

Sisters’ steps shuffling along with the

chant, their small bare feet leaving prints

on the damp floor; a ruckus coming from

somewhere beyond the walls.

The low humming continued as the doors

began to shake. Violent pounding came from

the other side; forcefully rattling the worn

black bolts that cemented the twin doors to

their feigning frame. The Sisters did not

break from the pattern of their ritual,

moving a bit more quickly around the

dripping mass at their center.

“The universe unwind, planets collide,

threads combine. Linear time, demon design,

threat to rewind. Form of gray, light of

day, hidden away.”

A silver spark appeared as a singular

drip from the unpleasantness that was the

gray, hitting the terracotta colored floor

that was made momentarily visible beneath

it. Like a dragon licking ice with its fire-

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drenched tongue, the spark sizzled into

nonexistence. Another followed, the Sisters

hastening their steps.

“The universe unwind, planets collide,

threads combine. Linear time, demon design,

threat to rewind. Form of gray, light of

day, hidden away.”

The door throbbed, holding back those

that were furiously attacking the outer

façade. Chanting through the cries of

compliance to ‘open the door’, the Sisters

did not give into the temptation their

attackers were so tastelessly offering. The

pulsating gray in the midst of the cloaked

witches dripped, shrinking at a steady pace,

a shower of sparks dancing about the floor

below. The faces of the witches were

illuminated beneath their tattered black

hoods. Their pale flesh stood without a

glint of emotion. Black hair framing all

five faces from smooth forehead to sunken

chin, pink lips of each moving at the same

steady, disturbing pace,

“The universe unwind, planets collide,

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threads combine. Linear time, demon design,

threat to rewind. Form of gray, light of

day, hidden away.”

Their eyes were nothing more than

hollow pits that reflected the darkness of

the room as if to mirror it. The Sisters

stopped, the pounding on the door continuing

to echo within the room, nearly drown out by

the sound of the silver and white sparks

that drummed upon the now charring floor.

The Sisters’ heads turned in unison to face

the sparking mess. They threw their hands

into the air, the sleeves of their cloaks

pulling back to reveal ten ghastly pale and

bony arms. Dimly though the room was lit,

the darkened veins that decorated the arms

of their decaying bodies were a hideous

site; topped off by nails that were yellow

and flaking. Time had not been a friend,

fueled by the deplorable state in which the

Sisters of the Black Circle had been forced

to live, cut off from the magical community

by order of the Council.

“The universe unwind, planets collide,

threads combine. Linear time, demon design,

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threat to rewind. Form of gray, light of

day, hidden away,” their chant becoming

louder, nearly hysterical.

Rising into the air, the lump continued

spewing fantastic sparks. The oversized,

poorly crafted door exploded from its frame;

having given way to the persistence that

came from the orbs being thrown at the

grainy wood, scattering in splinters upon

the floor. A group of wizards stood on the

other side of the exposed exit with palms

outstretched before them, orbs of red

pulsating, ready to attack. It was

unnecessary for any of the Sisters to pay

mind to those entering the doorway. They had

more than anticipated the arrival of

Anneliese and her Council of forced

followers.

The Council had spent a considerable

amount of time trying to locate the

legendary Primary, informed it was hidden

within the Sisters’ Castle. Though there was

no proof to support or deny this theory,

Anneliese had found every infraction of

wizard law that would allow her to raid the

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castle. Dragging the entire Council to the

castle upon rumor of ill-obtained charms

that turned out to be nothing more than

mortal necklaces, properly purchased and

imported with the permission of the

Department of Mortal Relics.

Alex recalled the second time Anneliese

had drug he and three other casters of the

Council to the castle. A rumor of ritual

sacrifice that turned out, as Alex and

presumed, to be perfectly legal. The Sisters

were sacrificing Watts. Terrible little

creatures with razor sharp wings, sticky

legs, and plump round bodies; coming from

the depths of the Terra-Accadia Forest. If

anything, it was a blessing to rid the

magical world of a few.

Flares of green burst from the

illuminated lump, lashing out like whips.

The Sisters continued in a fearless fashion,

not to be deterred in their task. The

unwanted wizards rushed in, orbs pummeling

the nonreactive Sisters; all except one

collapsing upon the dank floor. The single

witch continued,

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“The universe unwind, planets collide,

threads combine. Linear time, demon design,

threat to rewind. Form of gray, light of

day, hidden away.”

“Alexander, stop her!” roared

Anneliese, firing off another round of

crimson orbs.

It was Anneliese that had forced the

Council members here tonight on another

‘tip’. It seemed her sole purpose (of the

time) to bring about the downfall of the

Sisters of the Black Circle. Not even Alex

could understand the reason she felt them to

be such a threat, but there was no option

other than to obey; no matter how he

detested the orders.

Coming within a foot of the hollering

Sister that appeared undisturbed by the

attack, she turned her empty eyes to Alex.

In a split second her hand fell from the

air, grabbing hold of Alex by the wrist. The

two connected, Alex able to feel the power

that was coursing through the witch and the

furious monster at her helm.

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“Keep it safe. Keep it secret. Keep it

hidden,” spoke the Sister.

Alex hearing the words somewhere inside

his head as she vocalized,

“The universe unwind, planets collide,

threads combine. Linear time, demon design,

threat to rewind. Form of gray, light of

day, hidden away.”

Whips of green continued to beat out

into the dark corners of the room, combining

they spun around the now radiant orb.

Unannounced winds circled the room,

attacking the lingering sources of light,

the flames hissing as they were vanquished.

The vicious swirl of green retreated

furiously into the terrifying mass;

something like water down a drain, allowing

the room to fall back into dark silence.

Extinguished candles still neatly in their

iron holders, hung wearily as amber dots,

gray tails rising from them.

A rush of heat and blinding white

exploded from the hovering point of

fixation, leaving everyone on the floor in

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its wake. The Sister’s hand continued

holding tightly to Alex, his watering eyes

glazing over. Alex couldn’t hold a proper

thought, his mind spinning feverishly, and

the grip on his arm unexpectedly releasing.

Opening his eyes, Alex sat in darkness.

Running his hands over the smooth surface of

the chilled floor, bumping something solid

just as solid. Carefully examining the

object through touch, he climbed to his

feet. A bit dazed and unclear on what had

happened, Alex glanced around. It was

impossible to see, but he knew he was in the

Council Hall. With memorized steps he walked

the distance around the large judge-like

stand that stood silently in the darkness.

Without touch the door to Alex’s

personal chamber opened. Alex had recently

inherited this particular chamber. It had

belonged to Anneliese until she recently

felt the Council was in need of a new home.

With the completion of her current Council

Palace, as Alex referred to it, there was

plenty of empty space left behind. Though

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the immense hall just beyond the door of his

chamber was left to collect dust, it would

eventually be home to a Council of Alex’s

control.

Alex’s chamber was a brilliant white

that was impossible to look upon without

squinting. Visitors often had watering eyes

as they spoke with Alex in this place of

oppressive light, a sight that gave him an

inappropriate rush of pleasure and power.

Silvery-gray doors of a newly made cabinet

that stood against the adjacent wall were

slightly open as if closed in such a rush

that no one had checked to make sure they

were properly secured.

As if in a dream, Alex moved through

the light that hung in the room like a fog.

Arriving at the cabinet that stretched

several heads above him, there was something

to be seen. The doors silently swung

outward, pulled by an unseen hand, allowing

Alex’s brown eyes to peer inside. A large

glass orb sat upon a shelf, a gray haze

swirling around inside like a summer

thunderstorm.

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Pressure was again being put on Alex’s

forearm, looking down, the Sister was again

there. Her face distant, eyelids beginning

to droop over the vacant holes she had for

eyes, and her flesh nearly translucent now.

The fog was sucked from the room, replaced

by a heavy darkness that collapsed upon Alex

with such force that he was unable to keep

his knees from buckling. He laid on the

ground, the Sister at his side, a storm of

noise rushing at his ears.

The sight was not what Alex remembered.

Two head-sized orbs hung above, emitting a

dim glow that was just enough to outline the

room and its many occupiers. The gray lump

the Sisters had been chanting around was

gone; the terracotta floor scorched where

sparks had danced down.

“ALEXANDER!” cried Anneliese.

Alex slowly turned his head to face the

witch that had shouted his name with such

rage. Her pinched, pale, and pointed face

was furious even through the darkness. Her

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tightly twisted blonde hair glimmered

somehow in this unremarkable lighting.

Anneliese was never a fan of Alex. Had it

not been for his remarkable talents, she

would have never allowed him anywhere near

her Council. Though, the way things were

moving with Trejun’s death and Amen’s

continued resistance of Council law, it

seemed a good idea to keep him at hand.

“Grab her!”

Alex turned his head back to the Sister

in the same slow, almost sinister, fashion.

Her lips didn’t move, but her voice was

clear,

“Keep it safe. Keep it secret. Keep it

hidden.” Something like a mirage in the

desert at midnight, the Sister vanished as

dust on the wind.

Alex’s attention was refocused with the

forceful, cold slap of Anneliese’s hand

against his cheek.

“You let her escape?”

“How would you have liked me to stop

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her?” snapped Alex, his cheek turning red,

heightened by his anger.

“I didn’t lead my best casters down

here to have my time wasted. I want these

witches brought to justice.” Anneliese

turned to leave, her casters following,

their black robes scaling across the stones

of the floor.

“What justice is there in persecuting

the innocent?”

Anneliese stopped with a jolt. She was

well known for maintaining a dignified

appearance at all times, even on news that

innocent wizards and mortals were being

slaughtered. With no one around other than

Council members, sworn to secrecy, her rage

was evident. The pale cheeks she wore with

such a high-and-mighty snarl had fallen to a

furious shade of pink.

“You are on thin ice, Alexander,” her

voice heavy. “Your job is to do as I say.”

“Unlike the rest of this Council, I will not

follow you blindly.”

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“Perhaps you should not be a part of my

Council,” hissed Anneliese, leaning close

enough for Alex to feel the warmth of her

snake like breath.

This seemed enough for Alex to bite his

tongue, though it nearly crippled him to do

so. Anneliese stormed off, the dwindling

casters following at her heel.

Alex remained in the room that was full

even when no one was there. It grew dark as

the abandoned attack orbs conjured by the

other casters diluted into the air. Alex

ignited the smoldering candles overhead with

a flick of his wrist. The room was as tall

as it was long, even with some light in the

space there was no way to see the ceiling.

Crates covered nearly every inch of the

outlining walls, some opened in such a way

that the tan boards were left in shreds upon

the ground.

Alex had been here several times before

Anneliese started her witch-hunt. There was

a time when the Sisters had been trusted

allies of the Council. They had served under

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Trejun, with his unexpected death and Amen’s

uprising, Anneliese saw the Sisters as a

threat. To date, the Sisters of the Black

Circle had done nothing to show allegiance

with Amen; though they had not made a point

of proving to Anneliese that their interests

were in her favor.

Anneliese was more inclined to believe

the Sisters were conspiring against her when

they refused to vacate Trejun’s castle,

claiming it as their own. Of course,

Anneliese was the only one that felt they

needed to leave. Members of the Council,

other than Alex, would never speak up, but

they all felt the Sisters to be entitled to

the castle in mark of their faithful

servitude to Trejun. The Sisters were aware

that their actions would lead to banishment,

if not worse.

Alex’s last visit, outside the ongoing

raids, to this room was when he was

presented with a life altering decision. It

was almost possible to see the characters of

his past standing in front of him.

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The room was filled with a burning

sunset that draped over every corner and

façade of the castle. Alex and Meg stood at

a balcony that overlooked an incredible

landscape. Beyond the carved limestone

railing was a hundred foot drop into a

valley of green. Trees as tall as

skyscrapers, animals of unknown origin and

flowers blooming in a multitude of vibrant

colors.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”

A man appeared in the room looking the

way Alex would always remember him. Trejun

was wrinkled in the face with the glow of a

grandfather. His hair was long and white, as

it was with many of the more traditional and

elderly wizards. His purple robe was made of

a fine silk that looked dangerous to touch,

as if perhaps a hand would shred the finally

woven threads.

“I brought you both here to make you an

offer.”

Meg slipped her hand into Alex’s,

giving him a gentle squeeze.

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“You are both aware that of all my

pupils there are none more capable. The two

of you are an incredible duo with powers

that will someday, I believe, change the

wizarding world. What I would like to offer

you is the chance to embrace your powers.”

Meg gave a short smile, her brown eyes

glistening as she listened to Trejun’s

hypnotic and intoxicating words. Alex’s face

didn’t have the same enthused look. He

remained still and unaffected.

“What are you offering?” asked Alex,

not entirely prepared to know.

“This is the time to take advantage of

your strengths. This is the time to make

your mark on the world.”

“What are you offering?”

Alex was never patient enough to make

it through Trejun’s ramblings. Though he had

spent what felt like a lifetime listening to

the well-respected professor. Magical

training was reserved for those born of

wizard cities, something Alex had always

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thought to be a ridiculous practice. Those

that were born of the Mortal Realm were

forced to wait upon trainers finding and

nurturing them. Something Alex had no idea

he would someday be doing.

“Gods.”

“What?” replied Alex, Meg gripping his

hand more tightly.

“I’ve convened with the Demon Council

and they are interested in adding the two of

you to their circle. You would be endowed

with unimaginable powers beyond that of your

own.” There was a hint of lustful want in

Trejun’s voice. Alex was afraid his old

professor and friend had become more

interested in the connections he would

obtain, than the well-being and growth of he

or Meg.

“We would be Demon Gods?”

Trejun nodded graciously.

“So, we would be going against all of

our beliefs?”

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“Alexander, you know that names are not

always as they sound. You would take on the

title, there would be no obligation to do

anything you would be unwilling to do now.”

“Alex, this is an incredible

opportunity,” encouraged Meg, breaking apart

their clasped hands, her voice drowning in

enthusiasm.

Meg was always quick to accept whatever

was presented to her, as long as it was done

so in a way that clearly benefited her.

Though she was perfect in appearance, this

was her fatal drawback.

“How can you say that?”

Though it wasn’t immediately apparent,

this was the moment that Alex disconnected

from Meg. Alex would later come to regret

this moment time and time again. Having

spent so much of their lives together

already, it was common thought that they

would be together forever. Some saw Alex and

Meg leading the Council and wizarding world

into a new future, hand-in-hand.

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“There is no need to make a decision

now. Take your time to think it over.”

“I want it,” blurted Meg, mostly to

defy Alex.

“I don’t,” retorted Alex. There was an

immediate eruption of tension between the

two. Their eyes locked in a vicious stare of

combat.

Trejun looked upon his prize pupils,

fearing that perhaps he had made a mistake

in presenting the opportunity to them in

this fashion. Meg was not the desired party

here; the Demon Gods were seeking Alex.

Using Meg was a ploy they had unwittingly

suggested upon Trejun in hopes of making

their will a reality.

“Megnificent, are you sure?” Trejun

asked, hoping he could convince her

otherwise.

“Absolutely.” Meg’s response seemed to

cut Alex, his face twitching a bit.

“Alexander?”

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“No,” Alex muttered, looking properly

defeated.

Trejun took Meg by the hand, the two of

them walking towards the door. Alex remained

on the balcony, the sunset standing behind

him, watching as he and Meg settled upon the

decision that would forever put them on

parallel paths, only marked to cross one

another when ill was to come.

Alex stared at the place where he and Meg

had once stood together. The balcony was

gone, the opening closed up with rigged gray

bricks. Before the Black Circle had moved

into the once prestigious castle, it had

been home to Trejun and his trusted

advisors. When Trejun removed himself from

the public eye, a move many thought due to

illness, his advisors vanished.

Through some coaxing, Trejun was able

to move the Sisters into his Castle. He was

well aware of their impressive powers, also

he knew them to be the gypsies of the

magical community. With no real home, the

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Sisters of the Black Circle were convinced

to take up residence in Trejun’s castle with

the promise that they would no longer be

forced to seek out shelter on a regular

basis.

This castle was haunted with memories

that would never die. Alex had been admitted

into the Council, met and lost Meg, and

learned of Trejun’s death in this place.

Alex’s steps erupted through the room like

small cries from his past. Crossing the

threshold into a dim corridor the light

vanished as Alex’s shadow followed him out

of the room.

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2.

Megnificent Plans

oments exist that are often

regretted; things that cannot be

changed. Sometimes it is the

change we make within these moments that

causes us such distress. Alec had been an

accidental creation of Alex’s. Returning to

a memory through the Pharaoh’s Eye, a rather

shabby and haggard block of wood that had

been forged into the head of a long dead

pharaoh, Alex had managed to cross directly

through himself. Though details were not

fact, a rip in time split their threads

apart. Alec was born of memory, fortunate

only for Meg.

With the accidental creation of Alec,

Meg had found a vicious companion where she

had been lacking one. Alec had Alex’s face,

M

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body, and even snippets of his genius. He

was a far sight better to look at than her

two servants. Their rotting flesh, looking

as though it were ready to part from their

bodies; hair that was nothing more than

small tuffs of lanky black; and those

soulless eyes. All traits quite common in

Ritifs, though it was rare to find these

creatures outside the bowels of the hell

realms. Meg, a creature of darkness herself,

had a soft spot for the eyes of Ritifs.

After what had become a lifetime of

murderous endeavors, it was a relief to look

upon something that didn’t truly look back.

Meg stared almost longingly at Alec

with her distant brown eyes, recounting

their first encounter. Meg vanished from

Alex’s sight, reappearing in the shadows of

the trees. Moonlight weaving it’s way

through the heavy branches above, defined

Alex’s silhouette. Alex picked up an

unconscious Jen, carrying her away from what

he knew to be lurking beyond his sight.

Alex’s pace was much slower exiting the

forest than it had been upon entering. He

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31

did his best not to rattle Jen too much;

aware that she could wake at any moment, but

unaware what damage had been done to her.

Meg orbed herself out of the forest,

waiting for Alex to appear. The minutes of

waiting felt like hours of anxious

anticipation. Meg was relieved to see a

figure breaking through the black of the

thick trees. Much to her surprise Alex was

no longer carrying Jen. A light flashed in

the distance, forcing Meg to turn. What must

have been the opening of a door allowed

light to flood from Alex’s house and into

the forest like someone signaling for help.

The light relinquished, but Meg was left

standing before an empty handed Alex.

“Who are you?”

“Did you hit your head?”

“Alex?” Meg asked. The attitude was

there, but something wasn’t right. It was as

if looking at Alex through the back end of a

mirror, he just seemed… different.

“Yes,” replied Alex, sounding very much

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like himself.

“Where’s the witch?” Though Meg had

come from humble beginnings, she loved to

remind anyone when she got the chance, that

she was a god, not just another witch in the

crowd.

“Alex carried her to the house.”

“But… you’re Alex?”

“Yes.”

Meg’s growing frustration was apparent

even in the fading moonlight. Her flesh was

a pale blue in the night air, but it was

clear that her eyes were pointing like

daggers at this possible impostor. Before

Meg had the chance to ask another question

the ground beneath her began to shift. Her

feet were sinking into the dirt, the entire

landscape turning on its side. Like a page

being turned over in a storybook, the trees

were bending towards the ground; the sky was

falling, the moon coming drastically close.

The tall grass at their feet bent as if a

wind had kicked up.

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Falling into Alex, he embraced Meg as

the world continued to turn over. Meg

pressed her face into his chest, feeling a

slow rhythmic heart beat against her cheek,

the air was screaming like paper being

shredded furiously; rapidly the two of them

sank into the damp ground. With a jolt they

dropped through the floor of the Earth,

landing in a pile in the same spot they had

just left. Meg jumped to her feet, adjusting

her dress,

“What the hell realm was that?” she

shrieked, sunlight beaming on her pale

flesh.

“We’ve moved into the present.” Alex

was speaking as if this were a perfectly

natural act, like Meg should know what had

happened.

“What are you talking about?”

Alex smiled, his white teeth appearing in a

villainous fashion.

“Alex went back in time.

Unintentionally… I ran into myself.”

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“So… you’re not Alex?” Meg felt like

her head had been put in a vise. This made

no sense.

“I’m the Alex you fought in the forest…

but I’m not the Alex that carried Jen out.

I’m the past brought into the present by a

ripple,” Alex explained.

“We’re going to have to change your

name if I’m going to pretend to understand

any of what you just said.”

“What would you call me?”

Meg stared at the non-Alex for a

moment, the wheels in her head cranking

away. His characteristics were all those

that she had become familiar with: The short

messy brown hair, the dark eyes. They were

trademarks of a backfired jinx Meg had once

used on Alex, hiding his dirty blonde hair

and pale blue eyes. Never had she regretted

the accident; transforming Alex, even in the

slightest sense, gave her the ability to

distance herself from him.

“Alec,” she spat.

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35

“It’s nearly the same name.” Alec

wasn’t pleased. Though he was a duplicate of

Alex, he felt the strangest loathing for

him. Sharing even a partial name seemed a

cruel punishment, especially coming from

Meg.

“Exactly. You’re almost the same

wizard,” grinned Meg.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“Wha- what?” stuttered Meg, coming from

her daze.

“What are you staring at me for?” asked

Alec, once again.

“Don’t question me.” Meg felt starting

a fight was her best defense. It was either

that or admit she had been thinking about

someone other than herself, even if the

memory involved her.

“Whatever… let’s get this over with.”

It was good fortune for Meg that she

had met Alec. He was the only wizard outside

of Alex and the Sisters of the Black Circle

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that knew of the Anomaly. There were

currently two things working in Meg’s favor:

Alec had retained most of Alex’s memories,

even if only in fragmented form; Alex was

quickly losing memories having been stripped

of his own powers by Meg’s extraction orb.

This was perhaps Meg’s greatest triumph

to date. She would never forget standing in

front of Alex, plunging the dazzling orb of

white into his chest and watching him

collapse. For a single moment, a twinge of

something appeared in Meg’s chest. Something

that told her she regretted what she was

doing. However, not interested in falling

victim to conscious, she suppressed the

feeling, extracting the orb.

The story was somewhat of an

embarrassment to Meg, considering Alex had

managed to escape her enchantment, meant to

hold him until death arrived. Alex had never

told anyone about the incident outside of

Jen and Melissa. Alec knew only because he

assisted Meg in creating the enchantment

through his memories of Alex’s home; no one

else had a clue as to where Alex had gone

R.B. Winters

37

for the eight mortal-month period. Alex had

never been able to reach out to the Council,

forcing them to assume he was dead, then

sidestepping questions after his abrupt

return. Meg assumed Alex had informed Anna,

knowing how much wasted trust he placed in

her.

The Primary, a powerful energy created

from bits of each realm, was hidden not so

much inside Melissa; as Melissa was more a

shell created to hide it. Meg had taken Alex

hostage in hopes of discovering the

whereabouts of her desperately desired

Primary. When she finally discovered in what

form it now existed, the window of

opportunity had closed. The amount of time

and power it would take to transform Melissa

out of her current form would take more

power than Meg had access to. Time was

running out for Meg to open the barrier

between she and the hell realm that was

home. The Anomaly however was still in its

pure form, hidden within Alex’s chamber of

the Council Hall.

Without invitation from a Council

The Anomaly

38

member it was impossible for Meg to visit

the Council Hall, but with Alec’s help there

was nothing to stop her. Though she had

separated them by a single letter, the

realms still felt Alex and Alec to be the

same wizard, having come from the same

thread. There were very few recorded cases

of wizards having their threads accidentally

split in two. Many of those that had done so

on purpose managed to disfigure themselves

horribly; some even managing death by

mistake. No, Alex and Alec were a very rare

case. Meg assumed it must have only been

possible to divide them in two due entirely

to the incredible amount of power that

resided within Alex. Though it was clear

Alec had not taken the better portion of

these powers.

Alec drew a circle in the air with his

finger several times, a spark of blue

finally igniting on the tip of his index

finger. The buzzing spark followed Alec’s

lead until a circle was formed, withdrawing

his hand, the portal grew to an appropriate

size, Meg pushing her way through, Alec

R.B. Winters

39

following close behind. The corridor leading

to the Council Hall was empty. It was no

secret that Alex was to face trial by the

First Council today. His arrival was

imminent, meaning that Alec had to get Meg

into Alex’s personal chamber before anyone

arrived.

Their shoes pounded against the black

and white tiles of the floor, the sound

bouncing furiously off the white doors that

lined the corridor from end to end. Meg had

been here a thousand times before.

Previously she had needed no invitation to

enter, but her decision to take residence

within the confines of a hell realm changed

that. Demons of any sort were not permitted

into the Council Corridor, or any of its

many doors, without written permission of

the Council Head.

Reaching the enormous wooden doors that

concealed the Council Chamber, Alec pressed

a hand lightly to one of the carved doors.

Meg had forgotten how impressive they were,

her eyes catching on the story that had been

carefully crafted upon the wood. The story

The Anomaly

40

of Trejun, whom she felt much sorrow for;

tales of Terra and Accadia, the wizarding

cities; battles of wizards that were long

forgotten, and even a small mention of the

hell realms near the bottom of the doors.

The dark wood slowly retreated, allowing the

duo into the quiet black ahead of them, the

closing doors swallowing the light of the

corridor.

“I can’t see anything,” grunted Meg, as

if this weren’t obvious, Alec reaching

through the dark for her hand.

Alec led her through the dense blanket

of black. Passing between the six wooden

pews that Meg was unable to see, and around

the massive stand where Alex and his Head

Council members perched. All of Alec’s steps

were memorized and precise even in the

darkness. He didn’t have to search for the

handle to Alex’s personal chamber; he knew

just where to reach within the darkness.

With a push their eyes were attacked with a

vibrant light that pressed desperately at

the darkness behind them. Meg allowed

herself ahead of Alec into the room.

R.B. Winters

41

“So… this is where he spends his time,”

muttered Meg, her eyes examining the white

room.

The large wooden desk, another mortal-

crafted trinket of Alex’s, was cluttered

with books and piles of paper; many spilling

onto the surrounding floor. The bookshelves

that lined the walls were cluttered with

books of every sort; an assortment of dark

colors making up the leather bindings. The

only comfort in the room was Alex’s winged

chair behind his desk. It looked old, the

black suede wearing in many places. There

were no chairs for visitors, not that anyone

would ever be allowed in long enough to sit.

“It’s in there… I think,” said Alec,

bringing Meg’s attention to the tall double

door cabinet; like Alex’s chair, looking as

if imported from the Mortal Realm.

“Shouldn’t you know where he put it?”

hissed Meg, her patience tested.

“Anything he’s done after we split

isn’t in my memory. For all I know, he moved

the thing.”

The Anomaly

42

Meg ran her slender fingers over the

smooth silver finish of the cabinet.

“Just a door between myself… and

everything I’ve been fighting for.”

“What are you fighting for?” asked

Alec.

Meg rolled her pouting brown eyes,

wishing that Alec wasn’t beside her.

“I want to go home.”

“I know that… but what’s the point? Why

not just find a new realm?”

“That’s the point! I clawed my way to

the top. I built an empire and then Alex and

his Council stole it away from me.”

Meg placed a hand around Alec’s neck,

her pointed red claws digging into his

flesh. The fury she was feeling for Alex bit

at the back of her throat; perhaps

sacrificing Alec would be enough to trick

her mind into ease.

“How would you like if I threw you back

into the time loop and you lost the

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43

independence you’ve gained from Alex? How

would you like if I stole the life that was

yours?”

Alec whisked Meg’s hand from his neck,

the mark of her hand remaining as a vivid

pink outline. “I think you have forgotten

that I’m on your side,” he growled,

thrusting her hand away from his own.

“You’re still Alex somewhere in there.

If there is anything I learned from him…

from you… everything is a lie,” Meg’s words

biting at Alec.

“Just open the cabinet, drama god.”

Meg scowled, wrapping her fingers over

the dull silver knob of the cabinet door.

Applying some force, the door opened with a

terrible screech. Meg’s reaction was

instantaneous, a vicious grin ripped across

her face.

“Finally,” she uttered, relieved.

Alec checked over his shoulder. He

swore he heard someone step up to the door.

A moment’s silence allowed him to shrug off

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44

the suspicions, turning back to Meg. Alec,

not nearly as clever as Alex, failed to

realize that Jen was fading in and out of a

vision with Philip beyond the cracked door.

It was her wheezing breaths that he had

thought to be imagined. Jen peeked through

the crack of space between the door and its

frame; her vision more blurred than she

would later remember. Something purple was

pulled from the cabinet, a small corkscrew;

Jen’s attention faded momentarily as she

refocused on her attacker.

Meg held the castduv in her hand. It

was the key to unlocking the power of the

Anomaly.

“You never told me he had this… I

thought Philip…”

Meg examined the castduv in her hand,

“Where’d Philip find it? I’ve searched

like mad?”

“Trejun hid it in the depths of the

Forest. He assumed no one would desire it

enough to search.”

R.B. Winters

45

“I’ve been to the Terran Forest a

thousand times. Where was it?” Meg was

annoyed at her own ineptitude.

“One of the caves… who knows what he

did to get it. You know how Philip can be.”

Alec reached into the cabinet,

extracting a large gray orb, the purpose of

their visit. Meg’s trademark grin flashed

once more. Gently taking the Anomaly from

Alec’s hands, Meg held the thing in front of

her. The storm of gray spun slowly inside

like thick puffs of smoke.

“Let’s go,” instructed Meg, unable to

control her smile.

Alec closed the doors of the cabinet,

in no rush to draw attention to the now

stolen objects. They hurried out of Alex’s

chamber and into the darkness of the Council

Hall.

“Wait.” Meg stopped, pulling from her pocket

a small orb of metallic. It seemed to

capture a trace of light that wasn’t there.

“What is it?”

The Anomaly

46

“A little gift for Alex,” replied Meg,

holding the silver orb in the palm of her

hand, she pressed her lips together. A

gentle wisp and it was gone. Alec waited…

the room remained dark.

“Was that it?”

Meg didn’t respond, her lips turning up

in a grin darker than that of the Council

Hall.

Melissa, who had not been in the

corridor on Meg’s entrance; sat in the

wobbly wooden chair that had been provided

for her; strumming her fingers along the

bottom of her seat, rocking in bored

anticipation. Melissa waited for the massive

wooden doors to open and for Jen to step

out. She anticipated Anna taking her inside

the Council Chamber for the first time.

Melissa was rocked from her daze, as

the doors were forced open.

“Finally,” she snapped, jumping to her

feet.

R.B. Winters

47

A woman came from within the Council

Chamber.

“What the hell-“ Melissa didn’t have

time to finish, Meg slamming her against the

wall.

Melissa fell to the floor in a heap,

her head-lulling forward; face hidden

beneath a mop of tussled brown.

“Let’s get out of here,” cried Alec,

pulling at Meg’s free arm; terrified Alex

would discover them and instruct the Council

to eliminate him.

Meg shot Melissa a hate filled smile,

giving in to Alec’s pleas. They hurried down

the still empty corridor, an explosion of

red opening and consuming them. Exiting the

portal, Meg couldn’t have been more pleased

with herself, showing no gratitude towards

Alec for his efforts. There was a burning in

Alec’s chest, a feeling Alex had often

experienced when he thought of Meg.

“What?” snapped Meg, noticing the

pathetic look on Alec’s pale face. “Shall I

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48

reward you? Perhaps… free time to play with

the servants.”

Shaking his head, Alec left Meg with

her new objects of affection; doing his best

to ignore her cruel insults.

R.B. Winters

49

3.

Orbs & Prophecy

lex lifted himself from the ground,

rubbing his hands against heavy

eyelids; his head weighing greatly on

his shoulders. Blinking his eyes awake, Alex

glanced about the room. His memory foggy… to

say the least; he remembered the silver orb

that had appeared, coming to rest beside his

foot. That had happened in the chamber of

the First Council, but this was not that

place. Alex had somehow arrived home.

The glass doors at the rear of the

house were closed, the wooden slats tightly

pushed together to hold off the light. Alex

nudged his head out the door; the sky was an

unusual shade of red. Clouds were pulled

across the murky sky as if being drug along

by the nails of an angry hand; the sight was

A

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50

rather unnerving. Red and orange covered the

landscape as far as Alex could see, but

there was no sun in sight. It suddenly

occurred to him that there was no wind, as

if the world were holding its breath.

“HELLO!” Alex cried loudly, his voice

echoing over the smooth grass of the field.

The air rippling as his words somehow became

an invisible solid.

No response was returned, the wrinkling

of the air a disruptive sight. Alex was very

much alone in this place. It was like the

world had stopped turning while he had

slept. A dense and heavy heat was coming

from somewhere in the distance, hot enough

that Alex felt the need to shield his face.

Running a hand through his hair, Alex

realized it had grown long again, long

enough that it almost touched his eyebrows.

Was he in a memory?

Rounding the corner of the house, the

hollow thud of Alex’s footsteps against the

dark stained planks that made up the walkway

were all that could be heard. The landscape

R.B. Winters

51

below the house was picture perfect,

blanketed by the red of the sky. The winding

little river that wove its pattern across

the valley looked as though it had stopped.

The trees held their leaves still, the grass

holding in a desire to sway. No birds

overhead, no cars on the distant expressway.

Whatever this was, it wasn’t home.

The sporty red car that Alex had stolen

in a previous moment of desperation was no

longer parked in the driveway. However, like

a hungry mouth, the door of the garage hung

slightly open; daring Alex to look inside.

Bending to gaze in at the eerie darkness,

his stomach tightened. A strange and

sickening fear arose, forcing Alex to run.

Alex sprinted down the road that

connected the house to the main street;

gravel scattering in all directions. Running

as forcefully as possible, Alex made his way

towards town. Though his steps were

blistering, Alex’s feet made little sound as

they beat against the black road that lagged

behind. Passing hand painted meadows, parked

cars, an empty church, and several tiny

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52

houses, not a single person was to be found.

Sweating and out of breath, Alex slowed

to a heavy walk as he arrived at Fifth

Street. Pausing for a moment, he looked at

the street sign. A tall silver pole, dented

in several places, paint marks from car

bumpers and dirt around the bottom. The sign

itself hung very proper, green with white

lettering: Fifth Street. The naming had

always perplexed Alex. There were no other

main roads in the town, though this

particular sign suggested there might be.

Passing the first few houses on the

street, having left the overgrown fields of

brittle grass and wheat behind, Alex

approached a window. There was no one to be

seen. The love seats of the first house were

empty, the kitchen of the second quite

vacant, and the front door to the third

tightly bolted. Alex didn’t call out; it

seemed as though there was no point. If his

voice was doomed to echo into nothingness he

preferred to save his breathe.

Arriving at the steps of Practical

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53

Magic, Alex stopped. He examined the

lettering, noting the cracked and peeling

red and gold that was once so smooth.

Atticus, Alex’s most trusted friend, had

been scrupulous when it came to painting the

sign on the doors. Having done it several

times before getting it ‘just right’,

Atticus had declined magic in his efforts.

Alex pushed against the tarnished

handle of the door; it trembled, the door

staying firmly in place. Though the door

remained stationary, it was as if it feared

denying Alex entrance. Unexpectedly, the

handle ripped from Alex’s hand, the door

thrusting open, slamming forcefully against

the interior and swinging back. Shards of

glass ripped from the door, raining over

Alex. Shielding his eyes out of instinct, a

terrible rumbling came from overhead.

As the stoop beneath his worn feet

began to shutter, a significant piece of the

building’s wooden molding came crashing down

from the third story narrowly missing Alex.

The aged molding splintered into pieces as

it met the steps that led to the door of the

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54

shop, the white paint that was crusted over

the wood scattered like snow across the

searing ground. With a jerk and a shift the

entire building shook more forcefully, Alex,

leapt from the steps, rolling into the

street as an eruption of flames tore through

the building. The rumbling continued, like

an earthquake in the distance; bricks

dislodged themselves, shattering as dust

against the sidewalk.

Pock marks of white appeared as more

bricks flew forwards, several more windows

shattering in a chorus of shrill shrieks.

Like a hiccup from deep within; the building

sunk down a foot, the brick face leaning

back a considerable distance. Alex,

helplessly confused and terrified witnessed

a massive ball of orange erupt into the

bloody sky, black smoking forming a wake.

Splintered wood and bits of brick

rained down over Alex, who quickly covered

his head and coiled his body tightly in to

avoid injury. As the scene began to settle

Alex lifted himself from the rubble, the

dust beginning to settle.

R.B. Winters

55

“ALEX!”

Surprised and thoroughly relieved, Alex

spotted Jen standing at the corner.

“Where have you been?”

Running up to Jen, Alex gripped her by

the shoulders.

“Are you ok?”

“Alex… where have you been?” demanded

Jen.

“What?”

“I need your help.”

“I need your help. We have to help-”

Alex glanced around at the place where

Atticus’ shop had self destructed.

“Alex, what’s wrong with you?”

Alex didn’t reply, staring blankly at

the sight. The boards that had engulfed him

as the fireball shot into the air were

missing. Everything was remarkably clean,

the street and sidewalk all but bare. There

was no shattered glass, damaged merchandise,

The Anomaly

56

or even scars of charring left on the brick

walls of the buildings that now stood only

to hold open the space where the magic shop

had been. Jen seemed blissfully unaware of

this. She watched as Alex ran a hand over

the tightly packed dirt of the vacant lot.

“It was just here.”

Jen glanced around as if expecting

something to make itself known. Alex

remained on his knees, knuckles upon the

ground. Clearly frustrated, she was hesitant

to speak.

“Where’s Atticus?” Alex asked, a somber

note on his tongue.

“He died… you know that.”

Alex looked about the lot where he

knelt; thick grass was overtaking large

areas, tall flowering weeds appearing.

“Let’s go,” snipped Jen, gripping Alex

by the wrist. In that moment Alex noticed

that Jen was different, as different as the

lot had suddenly become.

R.B. Winters

57

The two of them were swallowed from

head to toe by a slender ring of blue. Alex

felt his stomach churn as he squirmed in

Jen’s clammy hand. He couldn’t feel the

ground; the only things to be seen were the

rear of his eyelids. As a bitter cold beat

against their faces, tears formed in the

corners of Alex’s tightly clenched eyes.

With a hollow thud they met the ground, Jen

on her feet, Alex on the street.

“Where are we?” Alex questioned, gazing

about frantically.

A massive wall of fire raged in the

distance; touching the mountains on both

sides of the city. The heat Alex had felt

before was greatly intensified. It felt as

if he was getting a sunburn, but there was

still no sun to be seen through the mass of

red clouds that covered the whole of the

landscape. The storm, or whatever it was,

grew in the distance. It was expanding in

all directions, the intensity of the heat

growing with it.

At the base of the fire: homes, trees,

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58

and lawns were bursting into flames before

even making contact with the red giant. As

they passed inside the cyclone of red the

fires were extinguished and all that was

left behind were black twigs and burnt out

structures.

“What is that?” Alex cried, in shock,

his legs feeling weak.

Jen turned her head slowly, as if Alex

were out of his mind. Alex stared back at

her; Jen’s face was strong, there was no

sign of the timid witch he had first met.

Strands of long blonde hair whipped around

her face, adding to the intensity she was

already presenting.

“That’s Meg’s mess,” she replied,

shouting to be heard.

Alex had no idea what Jen was saying.

“Are you ready?”

“What?”

“Are you ready?” roared Jen, irritated.

Alex didn’t know what to do, his mind

R.B. Winters

59

spinning. Jen held out her hands

“Start the incantation!” Jen saw the

blank stare on Alex’s face. “What’s wrong

with you?” she cried, her arms dropping to

her sides. “Did you forget the incantation?

It’s Sambra. Lucen. Octan. Haun.”

“I shouldn’t be here,” yelled Alex, the

heat of the flaming storm becoming

unbearable.

“Alex, I can’t do this alone!”

“I don’t know what you want me to do,

Jen!”

“You have… to do… it!” Jen’s words

became muttered, coming out of her in a deep

slow voice that wasn’t her own.

Jen’s mouth continued to move, though

no other words passed over her lips. Beneath

Alex’s feet the ground jumped, ripples

tearing through the air similar to the

effect he had witnessed outside the house

when this nightmare began. Alex ran; he

turned from Jen, running with desperate

speed. He had to get away from her, from

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60

this place.

Alex felt more confused now than he

ever had. He suddenly wondered where Melissa

had been in all of this. Why wasn’t she with

Jen? Alex could feel his heart pounding, his

breaths shallow, sweat forming on his brow.

Stopping for air, he couldn’t escape the

glare of the red beast in the distance.

Leaning against a building for support,

he glanced around what had been downtown.

The city had been completely deserted. Empty

buildings and abandoned cars were the only

figures to be found on the streets. The

pavement was soft from the intense heat that

was approaching, pulling at Alex’s shoes as

he began to sink into the blacktop.

Clenching his eyes shut, Alex searched for a

moment of solitude. Trying desperately to

escape the scene of destruction that was set

around him.

Opening his eyes, Alex was shocked to

see Melissa sitting at the dining room

table; spoon in hand, shoveling down what

appeared to be oatmeal. Blue decorated the

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61

sky beyond the window, a bulky bird resting

on the back of a colorful lawn chair. There

was no sign of red anywhere on the horizon,

the grass of the field beyond the house

dancing in the summer breeze. Alex was

confused. Was any of that real?

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62

4.

The Loop

t was clear to Melissa that something was

wrong with Alex. Aside from his gaping

mouth, his face was pale, almost sickly.

What little hair Alex had was tousled, his

blue eyes trapped within a sleepless red.

“You ok?”

“Where’s Jen?” Alex asked, his words

apprehensive, eyes sifting over the room.

Alex was unable to distinguish if this

was reality. Had he stood before a flaming

cyclone with Jen just moments before? There

was also the dilemma of not knowing whether

or not the present moment was real. Perhaps

both were dreams and he was unconscious

somewhere.

“No clue. She wasn’t in bed when I got

I

R.B. Winters

63

up this morning.”

Jen and Melissa had been sharing a bed

since Melissa had moved in two years prior.

Not to say there weren’t many nights with

one of them on the couch, but Melissa always

ended up back in their shared room, the

couch had too many lumps to allow for

comfortable sleep. Neither had ever thought

of converting the second living room into a

bedroom. Rather it sat at the front of the

house with a worn out piano and cherry wood

tables collecting dust, Jen visiting once a

month to wind the grandfather clock that

watched over the space from the corner.

The room itself was out of place in

relation to the rest of the house. With the

intricate wall hangings about the massive

single-pane window, immense gold leaf mirror

above the piano, and the tangerine paint on

the walls, this looked to be a parlor for

entertaining extravagant guests.

Meanwhile, the rest of the house looked

like an overused motel that had been poorly

cared for over the years. Not that Jen

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64

didn’t do her best to keep things clean, but

you can only blow out walls and windows,

burn holes in the floor with potions, and

put it all back together so many times.

Melissa had pondered the untouched room on

several occasions. She had always stayed out

for fear that there would be some sort of

hell to pay if she were to be caught inside.

Alex stared at Melissa; desperately

searching for something that would tell him

this was real. Melissa felt her face flush,

the uncomfortable sensation of being stared

at without reason.

“What are you looking at?”

Alex continued to stare, silently

examining.

“Seriously, what?”

“Can you hear me?”

Melissa looked at Alex as if he had

lost his mind, spoon in her mouth she

replied,

“Um… yeah.”

R.B. Winters

65

“No. I mean… can you hear my thoughts?”

Alex asked.

“I’m not a psychic.”

Alex shook his head, knowing now he

wasn’t in a dream.

“Are you sure you’re ok?”

“I don’t know what I am,” he replied.

“Can you tell me something?”

Melissa shrugged, her typical response.

Her natural instinct was to be difficult

with Alex. Though it generally caused an

argument, there was a small thrill to be

found.

“Has anything happened lately that you

can remember, maybe something in a dream?

Like… a dream of me dying, or something

about Jen… or Meg?”

Melissa rolled the question around for

a short second.

“Nope. I’ve pretty much just been

having the same old dreams I always have.

You know, things like demons and vampires

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66

attacking in the middle of the night. No big

deal,” she smiled shrewdly.

“Something’s wrong, but I don’t know

what. I feel like I’m in a daze… or a spell

maybe.”

Melissa’s interest was firmly peaked

for the first time during their

conversation. Alex noted the gleam in her

eye that came from the change in topic.

There were traits in Melissa that leaned

toward the darker side of magic. Her knack

for absorbing information from books,

something most wizards were unable to do

even after proper training; a small thing

Alex was afraid could easily fly out of

control.

“What kind of spell?”

Alex hesitated,

“I woke yesterday… maybe it was today.

I woke and I was here, alone. I woke up and

the sky was red and Atticus’ shop… had

vanished… and Jen. Jen was someone else.”

“Alex… you should drink less,” Melissa

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67

suggested, quickly becoming less interested

at the mention of Jen’s name.

“I’m not crazy, or drunk.”

Melissa gave a half-hearted grin that

reeked of skepticism.

“Maybe I am crazy,” Alex sighed.

Then it occurred; Atticus’ shop. If he

were dreaming all of this the shop would

still be standing.

“We have to go see Atticus!”

Grabbing Melissa by the hand, Alex

yanked her from the table and her breakfast.

The bowl of cereal jolting from it’s

stationary position, crashing upon the floor

with a loud slop sound that someone was

going to be forced to clean up later.

Melissa was drug behind Alex, barley staying

on her feet. Stripped pajama bottoms, not

the best match for running as they slipped

beneath Melissa’s fumbling feet. Alex

stopped, the car, the red car he had stolen

was still parked in the driveway.

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68

“Get in.”

Melissa threw her hair back to free her

face, climbing into the passenger side of

the car; fastening her seat belt as Alex

peeled out of the driveway. The car bounced

wildly as they came down the driveway, well

above the suggested speed limit. Skidding

into a turn, the car hurdled towards

Practical Magic. Keeping his fingers crossed

as they came upon the beginning of Fifth

Street, the same green sign with the bruised

silver pole beckoning.

Alex slowed the car, creeping along the

street slowly, glancing at the houses to his

left. Someone shuffled past a window;

another woman was on her knees in a colorful

floral outfit pulling at weeds in her

flowerbed. Coming to the block of brick

buildings that were like something from

another century, Alex was dumbfounded to

find the building that housed the magic shop

still standing just as he had remembered it.

Coming to a stop in front of the shop, Alex

and Melissa exited the car.

R.B. Winters

69

“But… it was gone,” he cried lowly.

“Looks like it’s here to me.”

“Mel, don’t taunt me right now.”

Alex walked up the cracking concrete

steps, grasping the handle of the door. The

tarnished handle was cold to the touch.

Pushing it open the rusted bell above the

door rang as if nothing had ever happened.

Stepping into the shop, Alex felt his heart

stop beating as he saw who stood behind the

counter. Melissa came up the steps behind

him,

“Move, please!” she hissed, pushing her

way into the store.

Alex didn’t understand her non-reaction

to the man that stood before them.

“You’re… dead,” groaned Alex.

Alex looked at what he thought to be

his deceased friend. Atticus looked the same

as he always had. His face carved with

craters from his days of vampire hunting, a

table leg with an unpleasant clawed paw

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70

attached to his right knee. His clothing the

same worn and dusty rags he always toted.

“Na tha’ I c’n t’ll,” replied Atticus,

his harsh accent coming across thicker than

ever.

Alex had always had a difficult time

understanding Atticus. His solution had been

to put a charm on his ears that translated

Atticus’ speech into something audible. A

charm Alex had been rather proud of himself

for concocting at the time.

“No, I saw your body in the back. Amen

killed you and left you for me to find. He

came for the amulet.”

“Al’x, ya ok?”

“No. No, I’m not ok. I am far from ok.”

“He’s been acting like this all

morning,” piped Melissa.

“Yar needin’ me t’ mix ya sumth’n up,

Al’x?” Atticus asked, looking concerned,

visible even through his worn face.

“I might need you to put me in an

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71

asylum,” responded Alex, dropping on the

stool that sat in front of Atticus’ sales

counter.

The counter itself was as worn out as

Atticus. Green paint was poorly spread

across brittle wood, chipping in several

places around the edges, completely worn off

the top; fraying wood exposed. Melissa was

wandering about the aisles of tin shelves

with their colorful assortment of bottles. A

touch of this and that, several powerful

mixing ingredients you’d be hard pressed to

find even in the best shops of Terra.

Alex often questioned how Atticus came

by these rare and nearly illegal treasures.

Atticus always had a fanciful story to back

up his merchandise, Alex knew them to be

lies, but there was no harm that would come

from the shops selling of these ingredients.

Mortals were only drawn to the specialty

items Atticus had charmed and set in a back

corner; preventing any of the real powders,

potions, and elixirs from falling into

untrained hands.

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Alex shuffled out of the shop, back to

the car, leaving Melissa to continue

browsing a collection of antique amulets.

Atticus kept a close watch, convinced she

would help herself to something from his

assortment of treasures. Alex sat in the

driver’s seat, doors locked, cupping his

face with nervous hands.

“What’s happening to me?” Alex

muttered, feeling he was plummeting into

insanity.

Alex felt inclined to peel the pale

flesh back from his face in an effort to

feel the present moment. Amen had murdered

Atticus months earlier. Alex wasn’t sure of

Amen’s true intentions, but it appeared he

was trying to send a message regarding his

new surge of power. Amen had left Atticus’

decaying body behind as a warning to Alex,

this he remembered vividly. At least Alex

thought he could remember seeing the body

lying on the floor between the crates of

Practical Magic’s storage room. Had that

been a terrible dream, and nothing more?

Lowering his hands Alex once again found

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himself out of breath.

Nearly throwing himself from his seat,

Alex’s body tightened from the shock. He was

sitting in the living room on the green and

white-checkered couch that Jen had replaced.

Grasping the cushions below him for some

kind of support, Alex burrowed his

fingernails into flesh of the linen.

“Hey, Alex,” piped Jen, sounding her

jaunty self.

Alex didn’t waste a moment, jolting

from the couch. Terrifying Jen he clasped

her shoulders tightly, knocking the stir

stick she had been holding into the boiling

cauldron on the table. Familiar flames of

orange and blue licking the sides of the

cauldron, leaving the wood of the table

unharmed. Bubbles of black and yellow

excitedly leapt over the scorched rim,

sizzling into the air as they diffused.

“Have you had any dreams lately?”

“Like… what?” Jen asked, her face pale;

how Alex knew her best.

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“Dreams about me dying? Dreams about

Atticus dying? Dreams about red skies…

tornadoes… Meg?”

Jen was terrified by Alex’s rant.

Playing nervously with her hands, she

answered cautiously,

“No.”

Alex dropped his head in frustration,

squeezing Jen a bit harder in the vain hope

that a real response would be issued.

“Where’s Melissa?” Alex asked, needing

to have dual confirmation of his madness.

“Who?”

“What?” Alex brought his eyes to meet

Jen’s. “You don’t know Melissa?”

Jen shook her head; afraid Alex would

topple her roaring cauldron by way of rage.

It wouldn’t have been the first time. Jen

was surprised, even relieved, as Alex pulled

away.

Escaping to his bedroom, Alex locked

the door behind him; fetching his prized

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75

possession from the rickety table that had

been through its fair share of abuse. Solid,

untarnished black leather flawlessly

composed the cover of Alex’s book. This was

no ordinary book of spells, but a

compilation of everything Alex and all of

his counterparts, a useful tool for any

wizard or power hungry warlock. This was not

how Alex remembered the book; white marks

where the color had been stripped from the

leather were missing, or the marks he may

have dreamt were missing.

Jen had once poured liquid life on the

book in an effort to revive Alex; under the

impression he had succumb to death. She

quickly learned a valuable lesson about

liquid life. Not only does the powerful

silver liquid bring wizards back from the

grave through their possessions, but it also

brings along everyone else that has come in

contact with the object and passed on. In

this instance, Jen and Melissa had been

overwhelmed with a swarm of colorful witches

and wizards looking for answers. Alex could

recall Jen telling him the story; he knew

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this had happened. Had Jen found a way to

mend the book?

Pulling back the cover with caution,

the pages were filled with spells, stories

and directions. Thumbing through the pages,

everything was in tact. Chapters on devilish

poisons, helpful charms, and a few

entertaining jinxes. Thousands of pages all

decorated in curved letters, some dancing

about, fading away, a few that even dripped

from their places.

Then something occurred to Alex, he had

power. If this was the time before Melissa,

then it was also the time before Meg had

claimed his powers for her own. Alex looked

into the back of his mind with nervous

anticipation, picturing his book lifting

from his lap and into the vacant air. It

took only a second, the spell book of smooth

black leather rose into the air, hanging

above Alex’s head. Pulling it back to his

knees, Alex again turned the pages,

searching for something that might explain

his predicament. This was one area where the

book was obnoxiously helpful. Through an

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77

ingenious charm of Trejun’s doing, Alex’s

book was able to match the reader’s thoughts

to potential pages of use.

The book furiously turned its aging

yellow pages. Time Travel blared from in the

heading, the letters rearranging themselves;

the book’s initial reply to Alex’s unspoken

thoughts. Alex ran his eyes down the page;

unfortunately none of this seemed to fit

what he was experiencing. Sitting the book

on his unmade bed, Alex, glanced up. There,

sitting upon the blue shelf that was built

out of the wall was the Pharaoh’s Eye.

“Come,” Alex commanded.

The colorful wooden headed lifted

itself from the shelf gliding gently down to

Alex, coming to a rest within his open

hands.

“Meg,” he instructed, a flare behind

his distant eyes.

A pinhole of light came from the center

of the forehead, the wood separating around

the edges until a glowing ring encompassed

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the head; the top lifting back. A misty blue

rolled out in flares, Alex lowered his face

into the fog. Something that was comparable

to breathing beneath murky water enveloped

his nostrils, a deep cold pressing at the

bare flesh that had intruded.

Opening his eyes, Alex could see Meg.

This wasn’t the apartment she had made into

her temporary home during her stay in the

Mortal Realm. The room was constructed of

gray-stone walls, and a wooden floor that

looked as if it were moments away from

collapsing into whatever was below. From the

walls, lengthy tapestries of red had been

positioned. They reached from the unseen

ceiling, down to the decrepit floor. There

were no windows, no self-portraits; if this

really was Meg’s home then it was definitely

temporary. Never before had she inhabited a

place without infecting every corner and

crack with her presence.

Dark lived in the corners of this

place, a figure emerging with hastened

steps. A woman of incredible beauty stepped

into the light. Long brown hair gave the

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79

illusion of kindness, a face that could kill

with a single glance, and two blue eyes that

were hard to pull away from. Meg paced

around the room through her frustration.

“WHY?” she screeched. “Why is it so

hard to do this simple little task?”

Alex hadn’t noticed before, but two

servants crouched in the corner at the edge

of the darkness. The twosome shook from

their tremendous fear of their master. They

had patches of long black hair, the rest

missing, perhaps from Meg’s angry hand. The

skin that remained on the faces of the two

servants appeared to be badly burned.

“All I ask is that you bring me the

Primary, and you can’t even do that. What’s

the point of keeping you if you can’t do

anything for me?”

The two servants apologized and pleaded

at Meg’s feet in a tongue Alex couldn’t

decipher. Clawing at their own flesh through

fear and anxiety, drops of blood appearing

on the already filth laden floor.

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Alex pulled his head from the Pharaoh’s

Eye, a blast of warmth attacking his face.

Clearly he had traveled back in time. This

was a point before Meg had come to the

conclusion that the Primary was Melissa.

Perhaps this was a second chance for Alex to

save Melissa and himself from Meg’s wrath.

All he had to do was stop jumping though

time when he closed his eyes.

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81

5.

Starting Over Yet Again

n orb of polished silver stood in the

middle of the vast gray room. Alex

lay nearest it; inside his head a

short film seemed to be playing itself

through interrupted distortion.

Alex watched the orb appear out of thin

air, rolling along the blank floor; coming

to a stop with a gentle bump against his

foot. He picked the object up, examining it

closely; it was different from most orbs.

This particular one seemed to be composed of

something from the Mortal Realm. It was

solid, and heavier than it looked to be, the

outside was smooth: Alex could make out his

bent reflection in it.

Alex rolled the orb around in his hand

looking for something to identify its

A

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purpose. The tiny sphere began to shudder as

if it were trying to distract Alex’s prying

thoughts, a small rip forming in the

outermost skin of the silver surface. A

black glow radiated from within: Alex thrust

the orb from his hand. The air rippling as

the orb directed itself to the cold floor.

The clink of a pin touching down was heard

as the orb made contact, Alex’s eyes turned

black as darkness consumed the room.

Alex felt like he was treading through

water, his body animated in slow motion. A

shuttering of images flashed against his

nearly closed eyes. It seemed the effects of

the orb were taking a toll on everyone

within the First’s chamber.

Anneliese listened as Alex paraded he

and Jen’s impressive wizard lineage before

her Council. She could see Philip in the

distance behind Alex with a hand in his

pocket. A glint of silver caught her eye as

Alex stepped back. Anneliese lost the sound

of Alex’s voice, her interest becoming

consumed by the object of Philip’s

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83

affection. The mouths of everyone in the

room suddenly fell open at whatever it was

Alex had said. Philip jumped to his feet,

his face red, that earth-colored hair

remaining firmly in place atop his head.

Anneliese kept her sapphire eyes firmly

attached to Philip’s hand that remained in

his pocket, now tightly gripping whatever he

was concealing. Anna grasped Jen by the

shoulder smiling broadly, Anneliese focusing

on Philip again, in time to witness his hand

ripping from the pocket. Speed made the

object nearly invisible as Philip tossed it

before anyone could focus their attention on

him properly. Silver flew through the air

towards Alex. Anneliese and her fellow

Council members all made to shout defense

curses… it was too late.

The room seemed to be liquefying. It

was difficult to see, everything was

beginning to run together. Sounds of those

around Anneliese crying out for help; burst

of furious light coming in black… red… black

again. A crimson light overtook the chaos,

beaming through the blinding air from

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multiple directions, cut into pieces by the

blur that was consuming their eyes.

Anneliese was taken from her feet, a

heavy force attacking the back of her knees.

Cries faded out, replaced by a tingling in

the back of her head; dropping to the floor

Anneliese felt the searing pain of the

circular gray podium as it cut into her

forehead.

“Melissa.”

Jen’s chest burned, rage bubbling

inside her: Feelings of contempt and

betrayal consuming her as Alex revealed his

living relative. Jen made to stand up as a

thin strip of light produced itself between

she and Alex. The sight, silence sweeping

over the room, distracted everyone. From it

dropped an orb: A silver sphere that bounced

a few times before rolling against Alex’s

foot where it halted.

The orb was cracked in several places

as if it had been slammed against something

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85

with such force that no mortal could have

been responsible. Jen’s emotions retreated

momentarily back into her blonde head. Alex

gazed down as a vision intruded upon Jen’s

mind. Light burst from the top of the orb as

Alex bent to retrieve it.

Without hesitation the orb swallowed

Alex and the others in a swirling mess. Not

a scream for help, or fear-drenched eye was

to be seen. Such a sudden and unexpected

reaction on the orbs part was a surprise to

say the least. Jen stood at the center of a

vortex that pulled and stretched everything

in the room until it was left blank with the

gray light that came from nowhere.

Jen was left alone in the First

Council’s desolate chamber. Silence hovered

around the freshly emptied room. Thoughts of

Meg danced around Jen’s mind. The vision of

Meg and Alec inside Alex’s personal chamber

was all she could focus on. What was

happening, what had just happened, it was

connected to Meg in some way; Jen knew this.

Jen’s mind clouded as the toxic light

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that had swallowed the others returned,

aiming itself in her direction. Jen fell to

her knees, her mind filling with a static

that was incomprehensible. There was a loud

sucking sound as if a wind tunnel had

suddenly sprouted about her ears. The silver

orb taunted Jen from the center of the room:

Light emanating from its round top,

illuminating the fog colored room. Only the

timer of a bomb could have been more sudden,

the orb self destructed into a thousand

razor sharp pieces; a symphony of rain as

they crashed upon the floor in waves. The

Council Chamber once again was the victim of

forced silence.

Anneliese reached for the stand that

had so brutally attacked her when she lost

her footing. Gripping the edge of the semi-

circular stand with her pale fingers, her

feet again standing proper to the floor. A

thin red line covered the upper part of her

forehead beneath that still tightly pulled

blonde hair. Pieces of the twist Anneliese

had formed her hair into had given way in

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87

all the commotion. Her overall appearance

was in disarray jacket pulled back over her

shoulders; not a site often seen with the

amount of control Anneliese extracted over

herself.

Anneliese’s fellow Council members were

in no better shape. Zara’s fall had been

broken when she landed upon Som;

unfortunately his nose took the better part

of the impact. Mortal wounds were rare for

wizards and the sight of this much blood

made them all uneasy. Wizard battles usually

resulted in death, not bloodshed; that was a

mortal and demon attribute.

Nastron looked better than the rest. He

had fallen flat on his back, not allowing

for anyone to slump over him. Ashlynn’s

blonde hair had some how been caught beneath

her hand in the descent to the floor, a

large chunk of it remained there now that

she was upright again.

Anna felt semi refreshed from her

catnap, having only slumped back in her

chair. Vectoria was not so rested. Philip

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88

had fallen against her, crumbling two of the

legs on the small wooden chair beneath her.

Philip was gouged in the chest as the

splintered wood clawed at him. Vectoria

could feel a large lump on the back of her

head where she had impacted the floor.

Through it all, Jen was the only one

that appeared to be completely untouched.

Other than the fact that her hair was wind

blown about her face, she appeared unharmed.

Jen sat upright in the rickety chair, not

having fallen out of it to begin with, her

knees still tingling from a fall that had

only happened in what must have been her

imagination; though it was still vividly

present. The memory was clear, but it felt

as though she hadn’t lost consciousness.

“Is this one of your parlor tricks,

Alexander?” Anneliese shouted, rage filling

her crackling voice.

Alex pulled himself from the floor. A

flaming red imprint left on his back where

he had cradled the silver orb that was now

scattered about in pieces.

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89

“You think I did this?”

Anneliese smoothed her untidy hair,

“Ashlynn, Zara, take the girl and

examine her thread,” she ordered.

Jen’s eyes grew to twice their usual

size as the two unnaturally similar blonde

witches rushed upon her.

“Som, Nastron, take Philip.”

“Take me where?” Philip asked, suddenly

fearing for his life.

“To examine your thread,” Anneliese

snapped, as if this hadn’t been obvious.

“On what evidence do you have the

right?”

“I have the power to do as I wish as

long as it is for the good of the Council.”

“Come,” Zara instructed, her voice more

monotone than the expression on her face.

Jen rose to her feet, Ashlynn grabbing

her by the arm. Jen was led into the gray

depths of the chamber behind the wooden

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chair she had been sitting in, glancing

viciously over her shoulder until Alex was

no longer in sight.

“ALEXANDER!” roared Anneliese.

Alex had somehow lost himself as they

rushed Jen away, ignoring Anneliese’s first

two pleas for his attention. Alex turned to

face her just as an explosion of green light

erupted behind him. Spinning around to see

the cause, he found Nastron lying on the

floor: His face black as ash, his hair and

clothing singed. Philip thrust his fist

forward once more as if making to hit Som

from a considerable distance. Faster than a

blinking eye, an orb of green formed around

his clenched fist propelling itself through

the air towards Som. Throwing himself aside,

Som, toppled over Alex; the two landing in a

heap on the floor.

“I will not have my thread pulled by a

second rate witch who would rather see a

mortal heading the Council than a true bred

wizard.”

With those words a black portal tore

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into the room beside Philip. It dripped at

the edges as if it were slowly melting,

massive globs of black landing on the

ground, sizzling as they did. Philip rushed

head first into the ominous portal leaving

behind only a tar colored puddle as it

quickly closed behind him.

“Do you know how long it took to get

rid of the last mess that was left behind

when a portal was conjured out of rage?”

asked Anneliese, not wanting of an answer;

rubbing her forehead out of frustration.

“Alexander, your punishment still stands. If

this girl is whom you say, as I assume she

is, then I will expect you to help her on

her way. You are however… banished to the

Mortal Realm until another hearing can be

scheduled to determine your future within

the wizarding community.”

Anneliese was harsh, but even she

seemed to have a hard time administering the

sentence. Feelings and personal thoughts

were never to be placed before law; that was

her belief. Alex turned to leave, expecting

a portal to jump up behind him to allow for

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a quick exit; none of the First would want

to gaze upon a banished wizard.

“One more thing.”

Alex turned back.

“I don’t want anyone finding out about

Philip not taking over as the Head of

Council. The upheaval in Terra is already

nearing an uncontrollable point with

radicals. I don’t need Accadia falling apart

as well,” Anneliese wasn’t making a request,

but a final order. She drew a circle in the

air with two fingers a few times, opening a

portal for Alex to exit through, taking some

satisfaction in his disgrace.

Alex was welcomed by silence upon

exiting the portal; the Council Chamber was

drenched in a mocking silence. The Council

members that had been left behind during his

hearing had all gone about tending to their

own affairs, not one curious about the

outcome of the trial. Alex was respected,

but never had he been liked. A quick thinker

and a harsh ruler, Alex traded the friend

card in order to provide stability.

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Alex examined the rows of pews that

lined the isle before him. He took in the

mortal craftsmanship of the dark benches,

their intricate grooves and smooth curves.

Alex shifted to look upon the stand where he

had formerly presided over the Council. He

came to the realization that this may be the

last time he would ever step foot in this

place. There was no way to be sure he would

recover the powers he lost to Meg, and

scheduling retrials with the First seemed to

take an eternity; Anneliese wasn’t

interested in changing her mind, convinced

it showed weakness. Truth be told, it was a

possibility, even a probability, that Alex

would age and eventually die in the Mortal

Realm before his case was revisited by the

First.

Alex released a sigh weighted heavily

with sadness and loss as he pushed against

the great wooden doors that guarded the

entrance of the Council Chamber. This was

the first time that the doors had not

responded to his presence and parted at his

approached. The weight of the doors was more

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than Alex had known, requiring all his

mortal strength to pry them open enough to

push through. The massive doors pulled shut

behind Alex, a final shove out the door to

complete his humiliation. Much to Alex’s

surprise, slumped on the floor was an

unconscious Melissa.

Melissa could hear Alex’s voice coming

from somewhere in the distance. Lips made of

stone; unable to call back to him, left

Melissa in silence. Something began to press

at her sides, shrouded in darkness,

Melissa’s neck lulled about. Pulling from a

semi-lucid place like a fish emerging from

water, Melissa clasped Alex’s arms, gasping

for air.

“What happened?”

Melissa stared at Alex, confusion

embracing her. The chair beside her was

familiar, but where were they? Melissa’s

mind furiously connected the pieces of the

puzzle to restore her blurred memory.

“Meg… was here.” Melissa recalled her

twisted smile.

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95

“What are you talking about? Meg

couldn’t have been here, she doesn’t have

the authority; this is a protected realm.”

Opening her mouth to dispute, she

paused.

“I dunno,” confessed Melissa.

She remembered experiencing the shock

of seeing Meg when she emerged from within

the Council Chamber. Melissa tried to gather

her thoughts, Alex noticing the similarities

in how she was feeling and how he had felt

after the silver orb had exploded during his

hearing. Melissa appeared disoriented above

all else.

“Where’s Jen?” Melissa asked, trying to

focus her thoughts.

“The First has her.”

“Why?”

“They’re going to pull her thread,”

replied Alex, pulling Melissa to her feet.

Unintentionally holding on far longer than

was necessary, an awkward silence occurring.

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“Why?” Melissa squeaked, her eyes

shifting to the ground.

“They have to make sure I’m not lying…

or wrong.”

“Wrong about what?” Melissa asked, her

mind searching for what Alex was really

thinking.

“I’ll let her explain when they release

her,” said Alex, heading down the corridor

to escape the tension that was building.

Melissa followed a few steps behind,

her arms folded as if trying to provide some

sense of security. The white corridor was

empty, except for the black tiles that were

integrated into the floor. Echoes radiating

from their steps as they pattered across the

floor made the corridor feel endless. A

tendril of gray light suddenly appeared in

front of Melissa. Alex turned to see the

portal unfold itself. He stepped around it

to where Melissa stood.

“Go ahead,” he said, motioning Melissa

forward.

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97

She stepped into the portal; Alex

following close behind her, afraid it would

close before he could pass through. Alex

exited the portal, pausing to look around.

“Melissa?” he muttered, glancing around

his bedroom.

The doorknob clicked as someone turned

it from the other side. Alex turned to face

Melissa, knowing that Jen was most likely

still busy with the First. Alex was nearly

toppled by the shock that coursed through

his body when he saw her standing in the

doorway.

“Meg?”

“You were expecting someone else?”

“Well… I wasn’t expecting you,” Alex

confessed.

“Then it must just be your lucky day.”

Meg strutted into the room, a knee length

green dress seductively draped around her

slim figure.

Alex suddenly realized that he had

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jumped through time once again. Pulling at

the collar of his white shirt he checked for

the burn. Holding his eyes closed before

peering: There it was, the red and black

burn left when Meg had extracted his powers.

Falling back onto the bed, Alex momentarily

forgot Meg was in the room.

‘This has to be a spell,’ he thought.

“I know this must be a bit of a shock

for you, but it’s for the best.”

“What?” Alex piped.

“It’s for the best. Me taking your

powers and you becoming my… captive.”

“That’s not what you said.”

Meg paced around the foot of the unmade

bed.

“What are you talking about?” Meg

looked puzzled, even through her beauty.

“This is you. YOU DID THIS!” Alex

shouted, rising up.

Meg shoved him back, sending Alex head

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over heels across the bed that ran diagonal,

slicing the bedroom into uneven sections.

“Watch yourself little man, or you

might just wind up dead,” Meg growled, her

nostrils flaring.

She spun around in a huff, her dark

hair trailing behind her as the door slammed

itself shut.

‘This is wrong, this is all wrong,’

Alex screamed inside his head, his eyes

darting around the room that wasn’t truly

his.

Meg had been more concerned about the

love they had once shared above anything

else when this had happened. This wasn’t the

past, and if it was then there was something

seriously wrong. Looking around the

fabricated bedroom, Alex noticed that

everything that had been missing when Meg

had originally imprisoned him was still

present. This appeared to be part of a

memory that had been poorly reconstructed,

perhaps even invented to make up for unknown

gaps.

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“I just need to get myself out.”

Alex paced the room for a moment,

needing a clear mind to devise an escape

plan. Whenever his eyes were closed, or he

was distracted for a split second, he found

himself somewhere he hadn’t been.

Clenching his eyes tightly together,

Alex thought of where he needed to be, with

the hope that it would persuade the charm he

was under to release him. Opening his

frustrated and fearful eyes, Alex was still

in his imaginary room.

Past the point of being rational, Alex

firmly gripped the doorknob, giving it a

sharp yank. Meg had been sure to lock the

door in his original memory, but it was

conveniently left open in this place;

perhaps Alex had shifted through time once

more. Cautiously he walked into the living

room. There was a warm sensation coming from

his lip, touching it Alex saw red.

Blood dripped from his face, onto his

already stained shirt. The living room

looked as if a bomb had gone off. The

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furniture was on end and in pieces. He had

only moved slightly farther ahead in time,

to the point directly after his encounter

with Meg. Running a hand over his face and

back through his almost nonexistent blonde

hair, Alex gave out a loud cry of

frustration.

He turned violently, throwing an

irreverent fist into the wall. The pain that

shot through his hand was very real, as was

the blood that dripped from his knuckles.

Alex wracked his brain trying to understand,

then it clicked, the house was an

enchantment. It was a very illustrious charm

that prevented anyone from locating him. It

was so strong that even in a memory it was

able to partially block the charm that was

tormenting him at this time.

Originally, Alex had escaped the house

by discovering the weak spot in the spell

located within the window of the dining

room. It was unavoidable that at some point

the memory would be forced to extinguish

itself in an effort to be historically

accurate. This time Alex could be prepared

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in the fact that he knew there was an end

point, and it might just be possible to use

it to his advantage.

Rushing back into his pretend bedroom,

Alex searched. Looking for the only thing he

knew could trap and hold an immense amount

of power. Knocking bottles from shelves and

tossing books to the floor, he searched. The

room was quickly becoming quiet the mess as

boiling liquids of all colors spread across

the floor, burning holes that created a

lovely view of the basement through the long

slats that made up the floor.

“YES!” exclaimed Alex, holding in his

hand a small black box.

He had once held the same box in his

hands, preparing for Meg’s attack, but now

the box was next to useless in its defensive

capabilities. The tiny box was home to a

raging storm that would have been enough to

temporarily distort Meg’s powers in an

effort to attack her first. However, Alex

had never managed to use the contents and he

wasn’t sure exactly what would happen if it

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were opened in a memory.

Crouching down on the floor, Alex sat

the box on the bed as far away as he could

place it and still be able to reach the

silent monster. Nervously he pulled at the

sides of the box; with ease it slid apart,

tossing the black cube, Alex ducked beneath

the bed in preparation for the onslaught of

events. Clenching his eyes, he listened;

there was silence.

Slowly raising his eyes to the level of

the box, Alex peered over the edge of the

bed. The black cube was shaking and bouncing

across the voluptuous comforter. Without

warning a small puff of gray smoke erupted

from the box, dispersing into the air;

leaving the container empty. Alex was

embarrassed by his fear of the box that

apparently no longer housed any of its

former power.

The little box was a prison; Alex was

hoping that it could absorb the power left

behind after the charm that held the house

together dispersed. Retrieving the object

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that now held his hope, Alex placed it on

the windowsill where he knew the house would

begin to come apart. All that was left for

Alex to do was wait.

Hours passed, the sun seemed to sit in

the same spot nestled near the mountaintops

beyond the forest. The sky remained a

beautiful shade of red with traces of pink

and orange scattered about. Alex was growing

weary. Tired of waiting for the house to

destroy itself, it was time to take control

of the situation.

Alex ventured back to his bedroom,

looking for the bamboo pole that had freed

him from the prison in the original memory.

Much to his surprise the pole was not where

it should have been. If the pole wasn’t in

the room, then there was no way for him to

advance time as he had done before.

Alex felt frustrated by his lack of

control over what was happening to him. He

hunched down beside the bed, nestling his

face into his clammy palms. There was no way

of knowing if the charm that had caused him

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105

to loop through time would leave him trapped

inside the more powerful charm of the house.

Blackness enveloped him as he closed his

blue eyes, trying to clear his mind.

Unable to stop the thoughts that were

pouring over him, Alex pondered what the

time loop might hold for him. Where would he

end up? Would he be a powerful wizard again,

or remain a mortal? Would he wind up in some

godforsaken place, or back in his home?

Alex’s mind spun faster than it had while

his eyes were open. He couldn’t wait any

longer, the seconds felt like days.

Throwing his eyes open, Alex peered

from between his fingers. This place was

new. This was unlike any place he had ever

been before. Walls were carved from jagged

gray rocks. There was next to no light in

this place; black was all that could be seen

in the distance. Alex felt cold, lost, and

alone.

A pool of silver water sat in a corner.

Crawling towards it, Alex felt as if

something were pressing down on him with

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106

such force that he could not stand up. The

clothing that draped him was ragged and

rotting. Seams were bursting and barely

covering his pale, thinning body. Alex’s

eyes faded in and out, draped by his matted

hair. The ghostly figure was nothing of the

wizard he had once been.

Gazing into the pool a fog shifted,

revealing Melissa. She cowered, trembling

beside a man that Alex had never seen

before. The two of them were covered in

fresh scratches and dirt, as if they had

gone through a long battle together. The two

of them jumped, something crashing beside

them. It was impossible to tell where they

were, or what it was they were hiding

beneath.

The fog returned to cover the silver

pool, blocking Melissa from sight. Alex

meant to reach for her, but he was unable to

raise his arm. The fog slowly retreated once

more to reveal Jen. Not the Jen that Alex

remembered, but a strong and confident

witch. Her blonde hair had grown much longer

than he had known, and there was a lively

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107

color in her face. Her eyes were a powerful

blue that commanded attention. She was

different in a way that only time could be

responsible for. It appeared as if she were

barking out orders. The place she was in had

so much light radiating about that

everything was drenched in yellow and

unrecognizable.

Alex pulled his fading blue eyes away

from the pool. He slowly laid himself out on

the rough stones beneath him, trying

desperately to find comfort. There was no

knowing where he was, but Alex knew in this

moment he was lost to time.