The fact that Avery and Tara were taking their time returning was, Casey thought, probably a good sign.

  Simon, seated beside him on a fallen log outside the garage, stared off into some middle distance, clearly lost in thought. If he was aware that more than an hour had passed, he gave no sign. Casey let him brood, fiddling with his phone to give the pretense of being busy. Simon was processing a lot, and Casey figured he needed time without pressure to think.

  Finally, however, when his Gift informed him that Simon’s emotions were becoming more focused and less dark, he asked, “You gonna be okay?”

  As he expected, Simon simply nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”

  “Simon, is there anything else we need to address that might trigger you?” He needed to know; Simon’s reflexive reaction had alarmed him.

  “Cherries,” Simon said, expression completely serious.

  “Cherries?” Did he mean the actual fruit, or was that a euphemism that wasn’t translating completely?

  “I was eating a cherry tart when my mother died. I’m not going to stab a cherry to death on sight, but I’d rather not be around them.” Simon lifted the shoulder that Casey wasn’t holding up in a shrug. “It’s frustrating, but even the smell of cherries baking will bring back that memory.”

  He squeezed Simon’s bony shoulder once. “Thanks for letting me know."

  Casey thought Simon would probably benefit from therapy and perhaps meds. However, how did one find a doctor who wouldn’t dismiss him as completely insane? ‘Hi, I’m an elf from another world,’ would likely get Simon prescribed all the drugs under the assumption he was batshit insane, rather than just a survivor of horrific traumas.

  Tara and Nadria’s spell earlier had been terrifying even for Casey; he wasn’t surprised that, given the context, Simon had lost his shit. He’d recovered quickly and had suggested a practical solution to prevent a repeat. Casey thought he’d be fine going forward, but he’d keep an eye on him.

  “We should go check on Mark,” Simon said suddenly, “and Shana. Did we leave them alone together?”

  “You’re right.” He realized that with a mild sense of horror. “Let’s go.”

  As it turned out, Shana had left Mark to his own devices in the apartment. She was sitting out in her car, arms folded, and an angry expression on her face.

  “Can I kill him?” she said, rolling the window down as they approached.

  “I’ll bail you out if you do,” Casey offered.

  She smirked. “Avery would help me bury the body. You need to up your game.”

  “Fair. You okay?”

  “Fabulous. When are we leaving? Because it needs to be soon. It’s not too far for you three to walk, and if I don’t get out of here soon, I won’t be okay.” As she spoke, she fiddled with the heater settings on the dash and turned on her car’s radio.

  Casey didn’t even want to know what Mark had said to her while they were alone in the apartment. It was probably repugnant. He said, over the very retro country-western sound of the area’s only clear music station, “Let me go make sure Mark leaves because Tara will hurt him if he pushes her too far, and then we can get out of here.”

  Shana grunted.

  He found Mark in the apartment a moment later. “Where’s Fugly?” the man asked after looking up from a brooding stare at the dead kitten floating in a jar.

  Casey bent over and picked up the Book off the floor. Tara had dropped it at some point during the show-and-tell, and it had landed beside where she had lain in the illusion. The blood stains were still there three years later, crusted on a filthy throw rug. The evidence of violence, in the form of splattered gore all over the apartment, had not made it into the public reports on Tara and Todd’s disappearance.

  Casey hesitated for a second, staring at the book. Nadria could answer a lot of their questions.

  Simon, at his side, asked Casey, “What are you going to do?”

  Shana wanted to leave, but he didn’t think this would take long.

  “I want to know what Todd’s up to, and I might need Tara’s help for it.” Between the decor and the filth in the tiny apartment, he desperately wanted to get outside. The others followed him through the narrow box-choked passage and out into the late afternoon sun, just in time to see Tara and Avery appear through the trees. When they spotted Mark, both of them straightened up, their expressions wary.

  Fortunately, Mark’s attention was on Casey and the Book, and he missed the opportunity to say something crude about their time alone together. “What are you going to do?” Mark asked as Casey set the book down on the hood of the truck.

  “Have a chat with a ghost.”

  Mark backed up. “I hate that book.”

  Casey opened the Book of Needs, addressing it firmly as he did. “We need to talk.”

  Nadria printed,

  Are you going to be polite?

  “No, but I’m going to give you what you want. I saw what you did with Tara. She was feeding you power, and you were manipulating it. I could feel the pain it caused her, but you didn’t care because it served your ends. You can do that with me, too, right? Pull power from me? And answer so everyone can see your words. I know you can.”

  If letters could be smug, these were.

  Ah. You agree, then. That man needs an ending.

  “Step one,” Casey said, “is to see what he’s up to. Can you scry him?”

  Perhaps. He’ll disrupt it immediately, but it may be useful. There is no harm in trying.

  Simon asked Nadria, “Do you need a focus?”

  The focus is the childrens’ souls in the Staff.

  Many are kin to me, and all are much beloved.

  I need nothing else.

  Todd will not allow the Soul Staff out of his reach.

  Where they are, he is.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  ‘

  Casey said, “Fine, Nadria, let’s do this.”

  Simon asked, “Nadria, what about a flame?”

  She printed,

  You may call me ‘mother.’

  Or mama, as you did when you were small.

  Simon’s eyes sparked with irritation. “A mother does not enslave her son.”

  You are not being treated as a slave.

  To answer your question, a flame is useful as a point of meditation,

  For those with unquiet minds.

  I have never needed one.

  Casey, I merely require the loan of your power.

  Tara should not use her Gift for a few days,

  Else she risks leysickness.

  Simon said, “Nadria, hurt Casey, and I will ensure you regret it.”

  The spirit printed,

  Read aloud:

  Open your mind to,

  All that is, to see the one

  Who spreads no light.

  Avery pointed out, “You’re missing a syllable if that’s supposed to be a haiku.”

  “She sucks at poetry,” Tara actually laughed, a deep rumble of amusement beside him. “But the words don’t matter. You could recite the alphabet, and it’d work as a trigger if you believed you were reading a spell. It’s all a psychological trick, like a lot of magic, to help her pull Power from you.”

  Casey read the words, feeling a little silly, but he let intent flow as he did. This was the third time he’d lent his power to Nadria, and now he could clearly feel and see how she was weaving her own Gift with his. In the future, perhaps he wouldn’t need a spell to trigger the connection with her. Tara clearly didn’t.

  As the last bit of the spell settled into place, he felt a pull. Then, a gleaming illusion sprang into place above the book: a bubble that first reflected the dying evening Arizona light, and then shifted to show a scene elsewhere, framed in rainbow swirls.

  Had anyone asked Casey what an alien fantasy world would look like, he’d have proposed something out of a movie. The reality wasn’t actually far off. Todd Riley sat on a horse, wearing a white robe. The Soul Staff hung sideways across his back. He seemed to be on a low rise of land. Behind him, a late-afternoon sun illuminated rolling hills speckled with pine trees.

  Todd had lost weight, Casey realized, though he was still a rather solidly built man. His pasty skin was now tanned. A short, elegant ponytail replaced his untidy, greasy mop of shoulder-length hair. Mirrored sunglasses hid his eyes, giving him an action-hero look.

  Todd's face twisted into a snarl. “Nadria!”

  The image rippled as Todd made an imperious gesture.

  Casey reached reflexively and fed Nadria more power. He sensed surprise from the spirit, and then she swiftly accepted all he could send her. For a moment, fueled by his Gift, she fought back against Todd’s attempt to dissipate the scrying with a complex weaving of magic. While she worked, Casey paid close attention to what she was doing -- but not all of it made sense. Pulling the power and directly using it, yes, but how was she making parts of her counterspell linger, performing distinct actions, while she turned her focus to other pieces?

  Beside them, Simon said, “That spot’s close to Halvers Keep. Maybe a mile away...”

  Todd’s face twisted into a snarl as he reached back and pulled the Soul Staff, somewhat awkwardly, from the sling over his shoulder and brought it forward. His mount half-reared; for a second, they watched as he slopped around in the saddle, lost a stirrup, and was nearly unhorsed.

  Then, Todd yanked the animal’s head around savagely, causing her mouth to gape wide and foamy crimson-tinted spittle to spray. He whacked her hard on the haunch with the glowing butt end of the staff. She froze in place, all four hooves planting hard against the ground, whites showing around her eyes. Frothy sweat dripped down the twitching skin of her neck. Every time she moved, even just to shift her weight, she groaned. The sound was tinny but audible.

  “He fucking geasbound the horse,” Simon snarled at Casey’s side. “He’s going to kill her. You can’t do that to a horse! They don’t understand enough human motivation for it to work properly!”

  Mark said, “It’s deliberate, he’s pulling power from the horse’s pain.”

  A nimbus of power rose around Todd, sending leaves and dust swirling upward. Rippling tendrils of power danced from the horse’s bay hide to his hands. She squealed in terror, nostrils flaring, as static caused her mane to stand on end.

  “Oh fuck!” Tara shouted from off to Casey’s left side. She bent over and picked a piece of rebar up off the ground, holding it like a javelin, but there was no target to throw it at yet.

  Casey tried to shut down the feed of power to the spell, but it was too late. Todd met Casey’s eyes. His lips twisted up into a smirk as he made a violent pulling gesture with his hand, and the Staff flared to life with a wild swirl of green and purple energy around it.

  Behind him, Shana’s car threw up a cloud of dust as she threw it in reverse, backing frantically away.

  The prismatic bubble warped and then swiftly expanded, enfolding Casey within it. There was a wrenching, popping feeling, the world turned itself inside out in a swirl of rainbow light, and Casey found himself tumbling several feet to sunlit ground. He hit hard, face-first, in soft green spring grass. The Book landed next to him with a flutter of pages.

  Frantically, Casey shoved himself back up to a sitting position, spitting blood from a split lip. Todd sat on the horse, Staff held high. Casey glanced back to see the bright colors of a portal behind him.

  He seemed to be alone. Where were the others?

  Todd’s lips twisted into a grin. “Your power will come in handy, Casey...” he aimed the Staff at Casey and demanded, “Bind him.”

  Casey felt the magic gather, ominous and dark. He reached for the leys and did the only thing he could think of: in a panicked rush of power, he threw as much energy as he could at Todd. The flood of power he sent in a frantic attempt to fight him hit the Staff and was instantly absorbed by it. Todd grinned and said, “Thanks, I needed that. You’re going to be so useful.”

  The Staff began to glow. The weaving of the spell grew tighter.

  Maybe... maybe Todd wouldn’t be so bad. He was smart, right? Casey thought. And he was so very handsome now...

  The spell, Casey thought. It was already warping his mind. He fiercely clung to the awareness that he loathed Todd, even as Todd’s grin was wildly attractive and... surely, he’d been mistaken about the man. He’d be proud to follow Todd’s lead and to call him boss.

  Todd gestured with his hand. The Book zipped to him, and he caught it. “Awesome. I need to burn this. Nadria’s a real nuisance.”

  “Try that stupid shit with me, asswipe!” Tara screamed as she charged through the portal. She still had the length of rebar in her hand, and now she speared it with accuracy at Todd. The spells he’d been summoning dissipated with a violent flare of purple light as the iron interacted with the magic. The metal struck Todd in the shoulder, causing blood to spray. The force almost knocked him off the mare’s back.

  “FUCK!” He grabbed a fistful of mane, wheeled the horse about with a savage yank on the reins, clapped spurs to the animal’s side, and bolted.

  Tara chased him for a hundred yards down a rutted dirt road before it was obvious he was going to outdistance her. She stopped, snatched a fist-sized rock up off the ground, and pitched it with precision. It hit Todd hard in the shoulder, and he dropped one rein. The horse veered, then straightened out. They kept going and disappeared around a bend in the road.

  Casey blinked. Had he been attracted to Todd?

  To his horror, he realized, just for a moment, he’d viewed the man as a dear friend and beloved leader. The feelings had felt very real. Nausea rose. A geas was far more insidious than he’d ever guessed.

  Simon said, from behind Casey, “Are you injured?”

  Casey wiped blood from his face. “Split my lip. I’ll survive. What just happened?”

  The others had come through the portal behind him. She said, “He opened a portal and pulled you through. He was binding you. I think I disrupted the spell in time.”

  “We followed you,” Mark said. He laughed, high and nervous. “Did you see Todd’s face when he saw Tara? Holy shit. He was terrified.”

  “He’d better be,” Tara growled, having loped back to them with leggy, athletic strides.

  Behind them, the Portal disappeared with an audible pop. Avery, alarmed, demanded, “How do we get home?”

  “Track Todd down, kill Todd, then ask Nadria to open the portal,” Tara said in a very dry tone. Casey thought he’d prefer a different order of events and a lot more planning. Open the portal, go home, then return. They weren’t prepared yet to fight evil.

  “Where the hell are we?” Casey asked. It was earlier in the day, the air was far more humid, and it smelled different. He had no doubt they were no longer anywhere near the Rim country.

  “Eastland. About a mile from Halvers Keep. I know this spot.” Simon met Casey’s eyes. He looked terrified. “This is my world.”

  “Simon!” A voice shouted. They all turned to see a grimalkin man approaching through the trees, trotting quickly. “M’sir Simon Clarke! M’sir, I need to speak to you!”

  *waves at current rating of 3.94 stars*

  your opinion of the story. Every honest score helps counter those who left a low rating only a few thousand words into the novel. (If they left a half star on chapter one, did they even read it at all, or did they leave it for some other arbitrary reason? I don't know. I remain confused about what is so terrible about chapter one that it merits a half star from anyone acting in good faith.)