Aspects : Book 3

[joegoda]

The girl, who I named Goth in my head, because that's who and what she looked like, grumbled at me that she like cream cheese with chives on her bagel. I take mine plain, with a bit of butter on it and some honey when I can afford it. I nodded at her and said, "Okay. One bagel with cream cheese coming up."

I let my mind out of its cage while I toasted the bagels and it drifted over to Goth, who crept into the living room and sat on the edge of my green chair, looking at her friend. Sniffing inside her head I found out that her name was Susan, but she went by Cheri. Doesn't matter, I'll just call her Goth. It fits her. Names have power. Not just the real names, but the names that we give things. My time in Kansas showed me that.

Goth stared at her friend on the floor, who was still masked and still unconscious. "Is she gonna be all right?"

My fluttering mind touched at the crumpled body and found a strong heartbeat and a quiet mind. Lots of control in this one. All I caught was the imagined sound of crackling energy, like one might find hanging around a power generating station. I verified that the body was alive and that was enough. I called my wandering mind back to me.

"Yep," I said. "She's a tough cookie." I poured two coffees and brought a cup to her. I poured hers in the cup that had a rainbow and two little bears playing stenciled on it. It read "A mother's love is forever" in bright red silk-screened letters. "Sugar?" I asked. "Creamer?"

"Sugar would be nice." Her voice had softened and she turned her face up at me. She was so very, very young. "Cream is gross."

Her face was that wonderful heart shaped face that always tugs at my heart. She had dark brown almond shaped eyes and a pert little nose above a bow shaped mouth. Her ears were pointed. She could have been an elf, if I didn't know enough elves to tell the difference. I figured she was about eighteen or nineteen. I could feel her heart beating four to the bar and it was reaching out to the girl on the floor.

I spooned two sugars in her coffee as I nodded to her friend. "She's pretty strong, isn't she?"

Goth didn't say a word, but she radiated to me that she had total confidence that her lover would kick my ass as soon as she woke up.

I nodded. It happens like that sometimes. A bit older woman takes a young apprentice under her wing. Shows her a bit of the old crafter magic and shows her a bit more caring attention than she was used to getting at home. Takes the time to be gentle and loving and explaining why the whole world is big and bad and how she will never leave.

I wagered that Goth's pretty face had gotten her in trouble at home. I touched her mind and found lots of scars. I don't understand, and never ever will understand, how a father or a mother can treat their own child like that. At least I hope I never understand, because if I ever do, I might actually have sympathy for monsters like that. And I really don't want that.

I nodded again, and sat on the side of my ugly green sofa, facing Goth. Her friend was to my left, which is where I wanted her, and Goth sat watching me, sipping her coffee. It was a bit hot for her, so she blew on it a bit. "Now what?" She asked me, her eyebrows arching.

"Well," I said, "We could just wait until your friend wakes up." I shifted on the sofa. "Or, you could tell me what you two are doing here." I had a pain in my butt, so I rearranged Tigger the Tiger and Avatar the Wizard so I could sit more comfortably.

"You have kids?" Goth asked.

"Nope. Well, at least none that claim me." I shrugged. "Why?"

"Because you have stuffed animals all over," she said reasonably. "That tiger puppet and the Wizard next to you. That dragon in your bedroom."

"Technically, Avatar isn't a stuffed animal. He's a wizard." I balanced my cup on the arm of the sofa so I could pick him up and straightened his hat. "But no, no kids. I've helped to raise a bunch though."

We heard a groan from the crumpled body. "What's her name?"

Goth opened her mouth to speak, but before she said anything, a soft and sharp "No." rose up from the floor. Goth's mouth closed with an audible click.

I felt the build up of static in the air, telling me that whatshername was about to do something stupid. I pointed a finger at her and muttered the word 'oregano'. The ozony smell dissipated like it had never been there, but the coffee in my cup bubbled madly.

The cloaked body sat up and pushed back her hood. Curls of blond hair peeked out from under her ski mask. "Woof." it said. "That was harsh."

Yeah, I guess it could be harsh to have your power snatched out of you and shoved somewhere else in the millisecond it takes to point a finger. It's like having the wind knocked out of you by a sucker punch to the gut.

"Sorry," I said, not really feeling it. "I just woke up and I'm not in the mood for games." I picked up my coffee cup, which had boiled dry from the redirected energy and stood up. "I'm getting more coffee. How bout you?"

"No coffee." The voice was a bit stronger, and was silken just like her hair. She could have been a radio announcer, if there were still jobs for radio announcers. Maybe voice-overs. It was just sultry enough that my slumbering Aspect snorted in his sleep.

"Okay," I shrugged at her, "but the only other thing I can offer you is water. And you're really going to need something really soon. Being zapped dries a body out."

Years ago, written in the late forties, there was a book called Zotz, and it told a wonderful story about a poor schnook that found a magic coin that bestowed dangerous powers. The power the coin bestowed was the ability to point at something and it would just stop, dead. In the end, after nearly ruining his life, the man became janitor and spent his days pointing at flies and killing them. There was a movie later on with Tom Poston as the hapless protagonist. I have read the book and seen the movie... first run. Yes, I am just that old.

Zapping someone was like that. It pulled their living energy out of them and shoved it somewhere else. If the somewhere else the energy was shoved was flammable, then poof, instant flame. That's why I direct the sapped energy to something liquid, like coffee. I had it done to me, once. That was where I learned to do it, too, except I'm much nicer than the guy who tried to kill me with it. I just use it to get someone's attention.

The girl on the floor pulled her mask off. She had those golden bouncy curls that all the Breck girls have and her eyes were the round and blue eyes of the all-American Girl. Sure enough, she was older than Goth. You could see the beginnings of what she would look like as she aged. Where the chin would get a bit saggy and where the crows-feet... er, smile lines would come in. She was maybe in her late twenties. Still young enough to be foolish, but old enough to have gained a deep mean streak.

I reached out to touch her mind and it was as closed a mind as I have come across. She was very strong, this one. Maybe she was a wild talent, but someone, somewhere had given her some training. I could have pushed a bit harder and probably broken her shield. I didn't. A girl has got to have her secrets.

She, I'll call her Betty... no, Barbie... yeah, Barbie. Barbie just sat there glaring up at me for a second. "You... zapped me?" She asked incredulously. "What did you do? I've never felt anything like that before."

I stood and headed for the coffee pot. "It's where someone sucks the magic right out of you. It'll be about an hour before you're able to do anything like what you were trying to do." I poured my cup over full, making a mess on the counter. I picked up a sponge from the sink and wiped up the bit of mess and noisily sipped the cup into submission. "Of course, you can try," I told her. "You'll get a nasty headache and a serious cramp. You've lost a lost of fluid, and you need that to set up your resonance."

I opened the fridge and pulled out my quart bottle of water. It was mostly full, but still, I topped it off at the sink. Regardless of what Barbie had said, she was going to need something. I carried the water and my coffee back to my spot on my avocado sofa.

Barbie and Goth were sitting on the sofa, cuddled. Barbie's arm was around Goth's shoulders protectively. I would have expected nothing less. I placed the bottle of water on the box I use for a coffee table. "It's there if you want it."

A communication was passing between the two of them. I watched as brows furled and unfurled and pupils dilated and shrank. Telepaths, doing some serious talk, I guess. More than likely the conversation went like this:

Goth - "You okay?"

Barbie - "Yeah. You?"

Goth - "Yeah. When I first saw you, I thought you were dead."

Barbie - "No baby, just winded. This guy maybe tough, but he could never hurt me. I told you I'd never leave."

Goth - "He seems to be a pretty nice guy, Barbie. He's not done anything that seems... you know... mean or anything."

Barbie - "Yeah, well. You know how men can be, Goth. Nice one moment and the next beating the crap out of you."

Or something like that. I don't know. I don't go snooping into people's brains unless I absolutely have to. Thoughts are private matters, folks.

A look of pain passed across Barbie's face.

"Headache?" I asked. She glared at me a moment before nodding slightly. "Drink the water. It'll help." She looked like she didn't believe me. "Really. I've been zapped," I told her. "You need it."

Barbie stared for a second, and I could see Goth push a thought at her. Reluctantly, Barbie picked up the cold bottle and unscrewed the cap. She took a small sip of water from it. She swallowed, and I could tell that she could tell that it helped immediately. She started swigging the water from the bottle like she was just coming out of the desert.

"Whoa there, Barbie," I cautioned. "You're gonna get brain freeze."

When she was done and the bottle was more than half empty, she plunked it down on the box and gasped for breath. "My name isn't Barbie," she wheezed.

"Yeah?" I said. "No kidding."

"No kidding," Barbie said defiantly. "And I'm not going to tell you what it is."

I swallowed some the rest of the coffee in my cup and shrugged at her. "I don't care. I don't want to know your names. Either of you. I do want to know what you were looking for, though."

Actually, I knew what she were looking for. Robert Plumb's journals. Barbie was only about a hundred miles off the mark, and even then she wouldn't be able to find them. Not unless she was really good at sifting through ashes that were buried under a two ton plinth of granite just on the northern edge of the yellow brick road that circles the city. Good luck with that.

I just wanted to hear them admit it. I'm mean like that.

"What we were looking for," Barbie said in that radio announcer voice, "is none of your business."

"Well, actually it is," I told her, scratching my head. "The way I see it, you broke in here without permission, and were rifling through my stuff. You tied me up, and paralyzed me with some goofy spell and you did that without my permission, too."

I didn't mention that I knew they had come through a dimensional gate, and I didn't mention to them that my own wards gave no indication that they were here. No sense in giving away all I knew. As for the wards... well, ever since my sword evaporated, the wards were still kind of weak, and they would probably stay that way until I found a way to amplify them. The protection runes I scratched on the wall just weren't strong enough, and the staff isn't for protection. It's for wisdom. Aw well... I'll get around to it someday.

"Now, I like sorority games as much as anyone," I continued, "but really... this sort of stuff will get you killed. If I had been someone else... say someone with a really bad temper, you'd either be in a fight for your life, or if they were that much stronger than you, you'd be a flaming puddle on the floor." I let that sink in. "Instead, you're sitting on my sofa, safe as could be, drinking water and coffee and not a hair on your head was harmed." Except the possible goose egg on Barbie's head where the staff whacked her.

"So," I said, getting up to get more coffee. Yeah, I drink a lot of coffee. "I don't think it's all that big of a deal that you tell me what you were looking for and who sent you."

I let them do their telepath thing while I emptied the pot into my cup. It's a big cup. When I came back, they seemed to have reached a decision. I sat down across from them and nodded at them.

"Yes?" I waited, sipping my drink.

"We..." Barbie reached over to take Goth's hand. "We were sent to pick up some books."

"Yeah," I said. "The fact that you were at my book case makes that a duh statement. What books?"

"Old books." Barbie sighed. She gave in. "It was just supposed to be a goof. We were just supposed to get the books and get out. We knew that you would break the paralysis spell pretty quick." She sighed again, making her cloak rise and fall. "We just didn't figure you'd do it as quick as you did."

Okay... they were sent for old books. That could be the journals, or it could be my old OZ books. "Were these old books like journals, by any chance?" I asked, over the top of my cup. "Possibly magical in nature? Written by a very old and very dead wizard?"

The two of them looked at each other. "We don't know who wrote them, but yes, we were told they were magical journals." Barbie's eyes narrowed. "You already knew, didn't you?"

"I had my suspicions." I thought about what she had said. It was a goof, or supposed to be. She didn't know about Robert, she was just sent to get the books. Just a goof. I sighed.

"You're from a coven, aren't you?" It wasn't really a question when I asked.

Both of the girls nodded.

"And you aren't quite inducted, are you?"

Again, both girls nodded.

Since the incident with the Something Bads, where the Gateway between the world of the living and the world of the dead was opened briefly, there had been a dozen or so of these new covens. Usually they were a mixed group, both boys and girls, and they thought they were somehow able to connect and control the Powers that Be. I scanned the girls that sat across from me, looking so young and so defenseless on my sofa.

I grabbed a mental stick and poked at my Aspect, waking him up.

* Get up, you lazy bum. I need your advice. *

Pan didn't tend to wake up easily. He liked his sleep unless there was someone to seduce or mischief to do.

* What do you want, Bastard of a Host? I was having a dream about the Sirens. *

* You should be nicer to me, Pan. After all I've learned I could evict you with a single thought. But nooooo. I let you stay, nice and snug and alive, if what you are can be called alive. *

And it was true. After the Kansas adventure, I had become fully actualized and no longer needed the second personality that was Pan. Not to brag, but I was now twice the demi-god he ever was. And he knew it.

* While that may be true, oh Honored Host, * he muttered sleepily, * you're still not done with me yet. Otherwise you'd have gotten rid of me already.*

I felt him yawn, deep in my psyche.

* What do you want? *

* I want you to look at these two across from me and tell me if you sense any Aspect in either of them. I don't, but I want an expert opinion. *

I let Pan rise in me, and felt the effects of his charm. It also gave me an instant erection. These things happen when you host a perpetually horny Aspect. I ignored it. Instead, I gave him control of my eyes.

* Wow! * Pan is not subtle. * What a couple of hotties! *

* Focus on the question, Pan. * I mentally sighed. * Aspects or no Aspects? *

Grumbling, I felt him focus his concentration. It felt like a tiny sinus headache in the middle of my forehead.

* No Aspects, Honored Host. * That confirmed what I figured, too. * But they were recently near the host of a very strong Aspect. *

I'm sure my eyebrows visibly rose in surprise. The girls looked over at me with slightly veiled interest. "Are you okay?" Goth asked.

I nodded at her. "Yeah, I'm fine. Be just another second."

* So, * I prodded my Aspect, * which Aspect was it? *

* I don't know, * Pan answered me. * A very unfamiliar one to me. Probably not in my pantheon, else I would know them, Honored Host. How intriguing. *

* Yeah, * I muttered to him, * It's a puzzle. *

* And what, Honored Host, can I expect in payment?*

In the past, whenever Pan would help me out, I had to give him something in return. Usually it was letting him charm someone, generally female, into having sex. Not anymore, though. Sex, when I have it, is by my choice, rather than a bribe.

* I'll let you hang around a while longer. How about that? *

I felt Pan sigh. It wasn't the answer he had hoped for, but it should have been the answer he expected.

* You know, Honored Host, that it has been so long since you were with anyone, I'm surprised that your manhood hasn't powdered and blown away. *

* Yep. Darn shame, ain't it. Thanks, Pan. Go back to sleep * I slid a bit of will his way, pushing him deep into my psyche. I heard him mumble something at me from his space in my mental closet. It was probably profane. Aw well, can't say I blame him. Poor guy is probably cursing the day he hooked up with me.

I stretched, chewed the last bit of bagel remaining and focused back on the girls.

"Okay," I said, standing up and reaching for my jacket. "Let's go."

"Go?" Barbie looked surprised. I get that a lot. "Go where?"

"I want to meet this coven," I told her. "I want to meet whoever it was that sent you to steal from me."

I expected to receive a whole lot of "We can't do that!" and "They would never allow..." and whatever other stall tactics they could send my way. I was surprised.

"Really?" It was the first sound of something happy from Barbie. Even Goth was smiling. She did have pointed teeth. "You'll come to the coven with us?"

The two girls were practically bouncing on the sofa. As I said, it wasn't exactly what I was expecting.

"Uh," I said uncertainly. "Yeah. I will." I gave them my best puzzled look. "What's the big deal?" I asked them. "General public isn't normally welcome at coven meetings, unless the world has changed in the last six months."

"You're not the general public, Mister Beebe," Barbie said as the girls rose from my sofa, hand in hand. "You're famous!" I swear to all that is Holy, if they had squealed I was going to blast them, just on principle.

"Famous?" I had to ask.

"Yes sir!" Barbie picked up her ski mask from where she had dropped it. "We were tasked to get some moldy old books you had! Imagine what they'll say when we show up with you in person!"

Great. I got groupies. Kill me now.

Comments

[shackrlu.livejournal.com]

LOL! *clapping vigorously* I likes it I do...you've got groupies!! Bwahahaha.

[joegoda.livejournal.com]

Yeah... yippee. Wait till the 'coven' convenes at Gypsy's and it turns out they're just barely old enough to drink. Barbie is the oldest one and she's only there to be with Goth... she's also the only 'true' witch among them. Yeah, there's a plot building here... I just don't know where the rest of it is...

[capi.livejournal.com]

Bwahahahahaha!!! Bravo! Oh me oh my! NEVER squeee in front of Mr. Beebe! It offends! *LOL* This is such fun! At least this part is! Imagine you writing that on a work night! Well done!!

[joegoda.livejournal.com]

The Chester in this particular story is the survivor of a very nasty book that hasn't been written yet. He's a bit tougher, not quite as anxiety ridden as his previous incarnation. He's comfortable in his skin. I think I'm gonna like him a lot.

As for the back story of what happened in Kansas? Welllll.... that's a whole nother book.