Enchanted No More

Why had she figured she could ignore or outwit the great Lightfolk, the Eight? If she’d been practicing her craft…if she’d been practicing, surely she’d have sensed Rothly caught in the interdimension? Maybe, maybe not…but if she’d been practicing and he was there she might have been able to pull him out…if she knew where he’d stepped into the mist.

Right now, even if he were here in Denver instead of Northumberland, England, she wouldn’t have the strength to get him out, would barely have the strength to enter and leave herself. She’d let her natural magic ability to step into the gray mist atrophy. The skills it took to call up the interdimension, go in, stay in for a time, leave—those were all rusty.

She’d have to use the tea, all the mind-body-emotion preparation rituals her family had developed to successfully enter the gray mist. And that was here—in her own home, in Mystic Circle that she’d balanced. She’d be lucky to last fifteen minutes, enough to orientate herself and find him. She should be able to find him…but hadn’t searched for him for fifteen years.

He had disowned her, cut ties to her. Yet he was her brother. She should still have at least one small bond to him. She hoped.

She didn’t dare attempt to save Rothly without more practice…at least three times in the mist, balancing elements—and she’d have to rest in between times. A day would be good.

But the pressure of inner dread made her think that she wouldn’t have a day to rest between attempts.

If she didn’t get it right, have the skill and strength to pull him from the mist, she’d kill them both.

Her stomach sank as she frowned at the tea. For a quest to save her brother in the interdimension and a mission after that, she should make a fresh mixture. She gritted her teeth. A process of two weeks that couldn’t be hurried or even started when the moon was waxing instead of waning.

Unless Rothly had made a fresh batch before going on his mission. Which meant returning to her family home in Northumberland to find out.

She poured water into the mug, then set her hands around it and let the heat of her turbulent emotions bring the water to a roiling boil, counting down the necessary seconds, then stopped. As she walked to her bedroom she kept track of the time needed for the infusion. Finally, she whispered a small spell and the leaves whisked up and disintegrated, leaving a tang on the air.

She could grab a ten-minute shower using the proper soap while the tea cooled. It was always better to go to the interdimension cleansed and with clear mind and intentions.

Usually Jenni would heat her skin as she showered in cool water, or heat tub water with her own magic before she bathed. But she must conserve her personal energy. She’d need all her power to enter the interdimension and search for Rothly. If she got stuck herself she would fade away, die.

So she let hot water spatter against her and began the process that would ensure a successful trip into the mist. She thrust away the notion that Rothly was trapped. The Lightfolk could be wrong. Thinking of Rothly snared, that she might be stuck trying to save him, could lead to panic.

As a human and elf, she liked the water, her djinn part not so much. So she let the human enjoy the liquid slipping against her skin, and hummed. Then she let the elf part twirl in the shower, and sang. Then she stepped from the tub and let her djinn heritage flash her dry.

She put on a raw silk orange robe and stepped in a particular rhythm to her bedroom, closed the door. She walked around a large tapestry bag that Hartha had brought from the basement.

Jenni reached for the mug on her bedside table, saw her hand trembled. Chinook, who’d been snoozing on the bed, strolled over and rubbed against Jenni. Sucking in a deep breath, Jenni picked up the heavy cat. Chinook purred. The cat loved elemental energy.

Holding Chinook, Jenni rocked back and forth, comforting them both. “It’s just been you and me, but you know I have a brother, Rothly.” She’d cried enough tears while calling out for all her lost family.

Chinook just purred.

“I’m going into the gray mist, the interdimension. I haven’t done that for many years. But I have to go now. I think I’m the only one alive who can survive the interdimension. Because I can balance the energies. The greatest magical Folk—Light and Dark—are usually only one element…and I’m babbling. Dammit, Rothly shouldn’t have tried. He had enough Mistweaver talent to get in, but not out!”

Chinook swept a quick tongue under Jenni’s chin and she dragged in a breath. “I’ll have to be careful, not move a step in there lest I lose my way. Not stay too long or I’ll be trapped like the Lightfolk say Rothly is.” She let a nervous heat wave shudder through her. Chinook butted her head against Jenni’s arm, stroking them both.

“Yes, I know you like magical energies, especially balanced.” Jenni set Chinook back down on the bed.

“Since I haven’t done this for so long, you can be my anchor, so I don’t lose my bearings, unable to exit.” Another deep breath at the thought. With the lightest of touches, she connected to the cat’s energy, linked them, let some of hers cycle to Chinook. The cat’s purr revved.

“I won’t be gone long.” She hoped. “Just need to find out if I can sense him. I should, even if he’s at home—I mean in Northumberland. This is home now. Ready?”

Chinook sat on the bed, tail curled around her paws. Jenni snagged her mug from the bedside table, then turned to face south and began her energy cycling. She must match her own energies to the vibration of the interdimension. She drank the tea and let the magical essence of it flicker through her like tiny flames, igniting her nerves so she’d be prepared to enter the gray mist. Make sure the timing was right, longer than if she’d been practicing often. Cool her energy for two minutes. Warm for six. Then hot!

She set the empty mug aside, walked beyond the end of her bed and into the middle of the room, faced south once more. She checked that she was completely balanced magically, saw the gray mist rise before her and chanted an entrance to the interdimension open. Taking one step forward on the carpet, she also moved a half step away from the dimension of Earth and into the gray mist that was the space between the reality of Earth and other planets, other places, other Earths.

She didn’t have the talent to open a temporary portal or establish a gateway to another dimension, but she knew that there were other worlds just beyond the mist.

It was quiet here, and it felt like she stood on solid ground, but if she looked down, she wouldn’t be able to see her feet. She could see nothing but flashes and sheets and twists of the elemental, magical energies, bright against the sky like the northern lights, the aurora borealis.

The real geographical landscape had faded, the house, the mountains in the west, the skyscrapers downtown. Slowly she turned in a full circle, checking the immediate area around her. All magic was balanced, the land around her imbued with equal amounts of fire and air and earth and water. Because she, an elemental balancer, had lived here in Mystic Circle for fourteen years. Her innate power did that. Slight tendrils of the equally mixed energy steamed upward.

Narrowing her eyes, she stared toward the south and the small business district that held the coffee house, the Sensitive New Age Bean. Since it was close to her influence, the elements were more equal than those in other directions. Yet there were still more flares of earth and fire.

Farther south the blue-green of water elemental energy swirled in a pool, spiraling from the “ground” that Jenni couldn’t see, tingeing the mist with color. That denoted Sloan’s Lake several miles away. One of the reasons she’d chosen this neighborhood was to be near Sloan’s and several other minor lakes. Water in Denver was at a premium and having lakes relatively close made it easier for her to call that element.

There was a slow, slight echo of a mew and she knew Chinook was near her feet in the real world. Dear Chinook, the being closest to her in the last few years, her remaining cat. The cat who liked magical energy best.

A tingle on Jenni’s skin prompted her to turn east and she faced that way, saw huge streams of magical elemental energy near downtown. They looked as if they were directed, not the random flares of naturally occurring magic. Not balanced, though. The blue-violet of air predominated. This was Lightfolk crafting.

Her eyes widened. She’d never seen anything like that in her seventy-five years. That phenomenon hadn’t been there when she’d moved to Denver.

So this Eight Corp that the Lightfolk ran was not a small deal. Not if it was messing with the magical energies like that.

She’d allowed them to sneak up on her, hadn’t been paying attention, hadn’t known they’d established a base in Denver. Why Denver? She shivered. Chinook mewed again and Jenni tore her gaze from downtown.

She was here to find her brother. She swallowed hard.

The Lightfolk believed Rothly was lost in the gray mist of the interdimension.

How long? A person died after a period of time…Jenni wasn’t sure of the length. But she wasn’t the scholar of the family. Another reason to return to Northumberland, for information.

Since she’d never spent more than forty-five minutes in the mist, the time it took to die had seemed long to her as a youngster. Now she thought it was under three months. How long had Rothly been gone? She’d been too angry, too frightened for her brother, to ask the right questions.

Maybe she could sense him. She wouldn’t be able to see him, or move in the mist without becoming lost, but she might know.

She hoped. A lot of hoping and praying going on. As usual when involved with the great Lightfolk.

She wanted to save him more than anything else in her life.

He’d be the only other person in the mist.

She sent her energy probing through the interdimension, searching, searching. There! Somewhere, north? Northwest? Geographically she couldn’t tell…but there was a pulsing human-and-Lightfolk-elf-djinn aura… Rothly.

If she stilled enough, breathed shallowly, she could feel the faintest touch of his fractured energy against her skin.

She closed her eyes, and visualized an image from the sensations she felt. His aura was damaged—his magic didn’t envelop him evenly. It was ragged, uneven, with a couple of splintered spots.

A sound broke from her, a keening in this silent place. She couldn’t tell how far it echoed, how long.

His aura pulsed slowly, too slowly, like he was dying. Trapped in the interdimension without the magic to save himself.

How could she find him and retrieve him? Love poured from her toward him and she thought his aura throbbed slightly stronger. How aware was he? She waited but he said nothing, not mind-to-mind, not aloud.

“Rothly!” she screamed. Still nothing, not even a flinch. She thought he’d have moved, yelled, cursed if he were conscious.