Chapter 13

Malachi stood in the cold wind coming off the Chaos Sea near his keep, feeling the ebb and flow of power that should have fueled his spell to reconnect with the pesky priestess that had somehow slipped his bond.

The scent of blood hung heavy in the air; a lingering reminder of the innocent life he had taken only moments earlier. The young girl’s screams still echoed in his ears, a haunting symphony that mingled with the howling winds and the distant crash of waves far below. Malachi clenched his fists, feeling a surge of anger and frustration as the reality of his failure set in.

He could tell the geas was still in place. He could feel she was progressing, but he could not control her beyond the commands set in place. Did he risk retrieving her before her task was complete? If he brought her back to his realm, he could reestablish control and send her out once more.

How would Set react to such a sign of failure on his part? He needed the power from the technology realm, and then he would not care what any god worried about. He would be a god in his own right then.

He quashed the thought and buried it deeply within his heart and mind. He would challenge the gods soon, but he must be patient. His huntress was hunting, he decided. He must let her find his prey.

Finn listened to the rain lashing against the windows, as if trying to break through the glass. He knew the streets would be heavily puddled as the storm drains struggled to keep up with the deluge. Occasionally, thunder clashed in the gray afternoon sky, giving testament to the storm and forming a counterpoint to the classical music playing on his stereo.

Elara was curled up on the couch with one of his old history books. Over the past month, her vocabulary had grown, and she was seeking more profound understanding of the world she was flung into, while still giving Finn some guidance on touching the world of magic.

Of course, he believed it was manipulation of the quantum particles; the fields that permeated everything at the subatomic level. However, the fact that he could not explain why he could suddenly affect these fundamental forces had convinced him to start thinking it was ‘magic’.

Suddenly, the lights flickered and died, plunging the apartment into gloomy twilight.

Finn glanced at his phone, confirming no intruders were sneaking up the stairway or rushing along the roof. While he had never been on the active side of the business, unless you counted his deep-cover placement with the chip manufacturer, he had attended the NSA’s version of “The Farm”. They had practiced covert assault, even if it was in the context of escape and evading people making such an assault. Cutting power was almost always the first move used to disorient the targets.

Elara manifested a glowing sphere of light, barely the size of a golf ball, but plenty bright enough to continue reading by. Finn grinned and added his sphere to light the room.

“This does come in handy when the power is out,” he commented.

Elara looked up from her book, glanced at the two sources of light and nodded. Seeing Finn was no longer engrossed in his own work, she stood, stretched, and walked over to the table he was working at. Her globe of light followed her, like a floating pet.

Finn pondered what he had learned. He considered the possibility of utilizing his newfound abilities to connect his phone and computer to a power source through a quantum channel. Given his enhanced understanding of quantum tunneling, which he used to circumvent a phone’s firewall, linking the battery charging input to an external source seemed plausible.

“Have you thought of a plan yet?” She asked.

Her question interrupted his chain of thought. Every day, she quizzed him on the progress of how to approach, isolate, and then bind or capture one of the powerful men they were hunting. For the first steps, he had insisted she develop familiarity with the world, learning to read and make her way. Next, as those lessons continued, he added disguises to her study. No longer would her silver hair and sensuous walk give her away to watching eyes. At the same time, he had worked on a facial obscurer she could use. Even with her abilities, he wanted to make any appearance she made difficult to track. That device had taken additional weeks to design and create, and he worried it would not be as effective as her ability to change her appearance. It was something she had been practicing to good effect, even if she only had a few full disguises she could transform into easily.

“I have,” Finn admitted for the first time. “But it’s not a good plan yet.”

Elara smiled and sighed as if a weight had been lifted. “Any plan is better than me rushing ahead blindly,” she said as she pulled a chair around and sat next to him. “Tell me about it,” she said, resting her hand on his arm.

Finn felt a rush of warmth along his arm where her fingers touched. With his new sight into the quantum flows, he could sense his nerves firing and impulses signaling through his body.

“We’ll have to go to Washington,” he started, pointing at the map spread out before him. “We’ll be disguised, obviously, but we want to find a place to observe this building from.”

He pointed at an intersection of two roads, with the small blue and white “M” symbol nearby. “This isn’t the main offices, but an overflow building they use for operational teams.”

“How do you know that?” Elara asked.

“My work on tracing communications and movements. The players who were doing the blackmail all appear to spend some time there. I don’t know whether it is their regular workplace or a meeting place, but it’s the only spot I’ve tracked them all intersecting at.”

Elara nodded. “If you say so.”

“Once we can see them, and spot them, we can follow one. If it’s at the end of the day, there is a good chance we can get them alone while away from their supporters.”

“So, we find one and isolate them. Then what?”

“Then you must use some of your powers. You’ll need to sense their emotional state. Assuming they are hetero and male, you can approach in disguise and try to maneuver them to someplace we can grab them. I’ll run oversight and interference. I can stop them from communicating out.”

“If they resist?” Elara asked.

Finn motioned to a taser sitting on the table. “We’ll both have those.”

Elara looked at the photos Finn had printed of their suspected targets. “How do we know these are all powerful enough to fulfill my geas?” She asked.

Finn sighed. “We don’t. You haven’t really told me exactly what you’re looking for, besides a powerful man or woman of my world. Maybe your magic will be able to sense what you need.”

Elara stilled her heart, focused on her breathing, and contemplated the edges of the spell she could feel wrapping her soul. The geas was quiet at the moment, and she feared waking it.

Her connection to the Moon Goddess was firmer now, after days of practicing her skills to leverage that once tenuous hold to her former life. As it had grown in this strange world, so had her awareness of the geas waiting to send her chasing after the powerful mage her tormentor sought.

Gently, she let her senses flow around the tightly bound spell. She felt no avenue for removing it, but thought the two major components were the compulsion to search and grasp a mage, and the commands to send her back to the tyrant who be-spelled her. Two delicate strands connected the individual parts. Despite not knowing the details of the chaos magic binding her, she intuitively knew the strands were the conditions to activate the second part. Something she would do, or feel, would enable her to return to complete her geas.

And then she would be bound in the evil man’s thrall once again, she realized.

Panic rose in her, and she focused on breathing, centering herself, and remaining calm.

Goddess, hear my prayer.

Knowing the elements of the spell had to help her in some manner. She carefully considered her abilities. The tendrils of magic linked her main quest to the transport portion. She dared to focus her lunar intuition on those fine strands.

The incredibly detailed runes and markings of the magician’s spell swam before her, tracing patterns in an unknown script. One strand was a confirmation that she was with the most powerful being in this world she could imagine. The other was simpler. She knew it was confirmation that she physically held her target.

Satisfied that neither condition was met so far, she opened her eyes and looked about the room. So long as she did not grasp her subject, she would never transport home.

Realizing she had at least that much control in her fight against the magician made her happy. She was compelled to find the person he needed, but she believed she could control her hands well enough to never hold them.

It was a start to fighting the compulsion.

“What will we do today?” Elara asked as she stood looking out the window at the still wet streets. The storm had blown through after two days of drizzling gray clouds interspersed with torrential rain and thunder.

“What would you like to do? I’d suggest a museum or something to show you some culture in the city, but all those places are covered heavily by cameras. It would be risky for us.”

Elara turned to him, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. The air shimmered around her. For a moment, she was standing in naked glory, then she changed. Her hair turned dark, almost midnight black and longer, reaching the middle of her back. Her face narrowed, with her chin and nose becoming soft points in her features. A navy and gray pantsuit shimmered into existence around her, tailored to be a perfect fit. She opened her eyes and smiled.

“I think I can risk the cameras now, if your jammer glasses will protect you.”

Finn shook his head in wonder. She was astonishing. “How did you learn to do that?”

“I could hardly only practice reading while you’ve been working. I need to be able to blend in with people and crowds here. Do you like this look?” She spun around slowly.

Finn was astounded. She looked fundamentally different but was still incredibly attractive. “You look as stunning as ever,” he admitted. “But you also look drastically different. Let me run a quick test.”

He pulled out his camera and snapped a picture with his phone. On his laptop, he opened the image and ran it against the facial scanning model he used to test his spoofer. When compared to an early picture of her with her normal appearance, there was only a one percent match probability. No searcher would set their filter so low. She should be safe.

“How would you like to look at a little art?”

Less than an hour later, they were strolling through the Museum of Modern Art.

“I never imagined you would like viewing art,” Elara said as she let him guide her through the exhibits. “I guess I never thought of a full building dedicated to art before, either. Where I’m from, art is personal, adorning your private rooms or homes. Only the wealthy or powerful can afford such pieces.”

“We’re fortunate,” Finn said. “I like to come here and let my mind take in the pieces, setting aside whatever problem I’m working on. It touches a different part of my personality, I guess.”

They stopped in front of “The Starry Night”, by Vincent van Gogh. Elara took in a deep breath, as they stood before it, jostled by the crowd of others admiring the painting.

“It’s spectacular,” she said softly.

“It’s one of my favorites,” Finn admitted.

After a few minutes, they moved closer to the placard off to one side of the painting, and Finn read it for her.

“He was in an asylum when he painted this? What’s that mean.”

“He was sick in his mind. He was locked up to keep him safe from himself and keep others safe from him. He cut off his ear shortly before he was sent there. Some say he did some of his best work while staying there.”

“In my world, people with afflictions of the mind are sent to the priests of Canta, who are masters of healing.”

Another Celtic deity, Finn thought. Which way is data flowing? From here to her worlds or from her worlds to here? Her pantheon’s similarity to that of Celtic mythology is more than coincidence.

Gently, he guided her to the next gallery in the exhibit. “I’d rather not linger in one place for too long,” he cautioned. “I’m jamming, which increases the likelihood that someone being watched drops out of their coverage. If we move, it will look more like a glitch on their side.”

Elara nodded and followed his lead until she stopped before a large square painting mostly filled with dappled greenery. It was Gustav Klimt’s “The Park”.

“This reminds me of home,” she said softly.

Finn took in the paining while standing next to her. It seemed that she found some solace or strength from the image.

“The greens of my world’s forest are more vibrant, and filled with motion, but the artist captures the sense of the place very well. Thank you for brining me here.”