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Chapter 1

Silvia buried her face against the ragged stuffed toy. It might have been a rabbit in an earlier

life or perhaps a bear. Its color was just as hard to determine. She lay upon the pale threadbare

sheets and pulled the remnants of the blanket closer. On the other side of the thin wall she could

hear the banging and the screaming as the two adults fought.

"Where do you get off, Molly, pulling that kind of stunt?"

"Stunt? STUNT? You call this a stunt? It takes two to tango and two to do what we did, Arthur."

"You told me you were on birth control, you never said anything about another kid! When were you

going to tell me, when do I get a say in this?"

"How dare you. You sure don't seem to mind when you wake me for this at two in the morning, or when

you are gone for months at a time. And keep your voice down, Silvia is in the other room."

"No. NO. This isn't happening tonight. I don't care how far along you are, we're getting that taken

care of."

"Don't you dare raise your fists this time, Arthur." Silvia shook as she heard the now familiar

sound of a hard fist hitting drywall and breaking boards. She knew the sound all too well, it

seemed to her that it was one of the more common noises her father made.

"You already have one, what do you need another for? Why are you doing this to me?"

"Me doing this to you? Bastard. Like you have to listen to people whispering behind your back about

how you are an unfit parent. Like you have to gain weight and carry a child. Like you get up every

morning throwing up, shaking from chills, only to try and eat something because your own child

needs nourishment. Yes, Arthur, I thought about all of that when I decided to become pregnant

again, with YOUR child, and how it would make your life miserable, how you w-"

Her mother's voice was cut off by a sharp slap, this time of skin on skin. Silvia tried desperately

to stuff any part of the toy she could into her ears. Only a few days, she promised herself, he was

only ever home a few days...

It was the quiet of his voice that scared her the most. "Enough. I'm going for a drive, a drink,

and a smoke. Probably in that order. When I get home, then we are going to settle this."

Other familiar sounds followed: The heavy, oil stained work boots of her father trod down the hall

way, his keys ringing against the little metal bowl on the inside of the door where he tossed them

every time he came home, and the rattle of the whole front of the apartment as he slammed the door

hard enough to crack the pane of glass in the upper half. Silvia knew that her father would be gone

for at least the next two hours. It always took him a while to get drunk.

"Light." She whispered. A pale silvery light flickered around the lone silver charm on the bracelet

of her left hand. It wasn't much, but it allowed her to see where she was going. She slipped off of

the cot she lay upon and snuck carefully out of the broom closet sized bedroom and into the hall.

In all her nine years she had never heard Molly and Arthur fight like that. She was worried about

her mom.

Her tangled mousey hair stuck out in wild curls in every direction. The tiny light threw her shadow

large behind her, making it seem as though a medusa were lurking in the shadows. Silvia, at her

advanced age, knew there were such things as monsters. After all, one had just left. She crept to

the door of her parents' room and looked inside.

Her eyes glossed over the queen sized bed, the battered dressers, even the sliding glass doors that

lead out to the balcony (which overlooked the apartment pool), as she only had eyes for her mother.

The two were spitting images of one another, albeit separated in age by twenty years. Mother and

daughter both shared the same grass green eyes, but only her mother's were presently casting tears

down her cheeks and into the carpet. "Mom?"

Molly was kneeling on the floor, hands and arms limp beside her. She seemed to be asking the

ceiling fan for guidance. "Yes, baby?" her slender hands came up to try and wipe away the tears.

All she managed to do was wipe salt water across her cheeks. She would have better luck stopping

the wind. Her gaze went from her daughters face to her wrist. "Honey, douse the light. You know we

can't... not on this side." She looked fearfully out the sliding glass doors, before pulling

herself up and shutting the curtains.

"When are we going back?" Silvia tapped the little charm and whispered, "Extinguish" and the light

obeyed.

Molly laid her head upon the glass, eyes searching somewhere between her reflection and the moon.

"I don't know, baby. I had to come back. This child is part his. He has a right to know." She

rested her hand upon the swell of her stomach. She looked every bit of her nine months pregnant.

Silvia swept the room with her gaze and found the hole that Arthur had punched in the wall. "He

doesn't want another baby." She sounded older than she had a right to be.

Molly pushed away from the glass. "Guess you heard all of it, then." As Silvia nodded, she let the

curtains blot out the night. "Kiddo, if you learn anything from all of this..." her gesture took in

the room but Silvia guessed she meant more than just the furniture around them, "Anything at all...

Just keep in mind that love doesn't always turn out this way. Okay babe?"

Arthur drove as though on autopilot. Even years after this night, he could not tell you why he

picked this particular bar over any other to stop at. Understandable, it was hardly recognizable as

it was. Rather than a chance meeting or an unplanned stop, he had been here before. Many times, in

fact. He parked the battered old Ford in what felt like a good spot (one he had parked in many

times, it allowed him to back out easily while too drunk to drive) and pulled his billfold out of

the center console. There were three or four other cars in the lot, all parked several spaces away

from any other cars. The street lights on the cross streets flickered rhythmically but never

managed to penetrate the cross street.

The front of the bar was all brick, not a single window allowed the light from inside the bar to

spill to the street. A partly functional sign over the door called it " ARRYS' BILL S", once it

must have read Harry's Billiards, but the other letters were only a hollow on the sign where there

had once been glass neon tubes.

The bouncer in the tiny entry vestibule did not even look twice at Arthur, but nodded to him curtly

behind three hundred pounds of sculpted muscle and mirrored shades. The black T-Shirt he wore

claimed his other job was in "Attitude Adjustment". Once the outside door closed, the only light in

the small room was a pair of dim yellow bulbs that cast the whole room into odd orange relief. It

made the bouncer look even less human. Arthur passed through quickly.

Once through the second set of doors the lighting got worse, if possible. Music pulsed and thumped

from somewhere. Too quiet to make out distinctly and yet just loud enough to be present. Providing

a topic of conversation if needed and cover for the silence if not. Every few moments the soft

click of a cue hitting other billiard balls could be heard as games of unhurried pool were played

in the far end of the bar. The brighter light there did nothing to cut the gloom.

Decades of cigar and cigarette smoke lingered in the air. It was dense enough to take the edge off

of the light and give anything more than twelve feet away a slightly fuzzy outline. Empty tables

and chairs (each table with its own ash tray) were liberally sprinkled through the room, but not in

any easily identifiable pattern. The entire back wall was taken up with the god to which patrons

sat and sacrificed their hard spent hours. Alcohol of a dizzying and frightening array lined glass

shelves backed by the largest continuous mirror Arthur had ever seen. Artfully placed track

lighting illuminated the shrine, casting particular pools on the more exotic and expensive liquors.

A counter of stained and heavily stained wood marked the location where supplicants came forth to

pick their poison. Almost lost between the two was a man who stood just over five foot two. Black

spiked hair that faded to a slight graying near the temples dropped suddenly into a forehead that

might make a battering ram jealous. Dark eyes flanked a nose that looked like it had been broken

badly and set worse at least once. If the rest of the face was ugly, the pocked and scarred jaw

line was worse. His lips were lost behind a cigar the size of a roll of quarters. Blue smoke

trickled from his mouth as his hands moved across the bar. Heavily scarred fingers covered in

coarse black hair over olive skin belied a life of hard work.

"Arthur. Been a while." Before Arthur could take a ripped and patched bar stool, the bartender had

placed a thick coaster down and dropped a frost rimed glass filled with something a shade darker

than liquid gold. "Just get back? Did you finish hauling for that job out in Denver? Thought you

would be gone at least another week."

If Arthur seemed surprised that the bartender knew his schedule or his preferred drink, he didn't

show it. Neither did he pay any attention to the sole other occupant at the bar, a man with a row

of empty glasses before him and his head down against the wood. "Yeah, I lost a tire on the way

back too. A damn re-cap blew in the right rear. Just your regular train wreck of a week." He

mechanically picked up the glass and took a long drink. "Balthiss, right?"

The bartender grinned even wider. "Yeah. I'm flattered you remember me. I would have thought you

would be home with the wife, you know, getting reacquainted." Something between the leer and the

tone of voice let Arthur know exactly what he thought Balthiss was talking about.

"Yeah, real insult to injury there." Arthur looked down at the now empty glass in mild surprise.

When had he finished the drink? It mattered little as by the time the glass had touched the

coaster, Balthiss had replaced it with a full one.

"Do tell."

"Molly is pregnant again. Nine months along now. How the hell did I miss the signs? I mean, I've

only been gone two or three months..."

"You seem concerned, Arthur." Balthiss reached down and picked up a whiskey glass and chipped part

of an iceberg into the glass before straining a generous pair of fingers over the rocks. "On me."

"Thanks." Arthur chased the beer with the whiskey and sat playing with the ice for a moment.

Balthiss picked up something from his side of the bar, hidden down by the odd bits and pieces of

equipment that a good bartender acquires in their line of work. A turn of the wrist and a small bit

of slight of hand later, he had it cupped in his palm as if lighting it off of the end of his

cigar. Instead, he drew smoke heavily into his lungs then exhaled it in a strong jet against the

object in his hand. As the smoke hit the bauble it flared a coal-red. The glow lit his face

briefly. "If it were me, I would be angry..."

Arthur looked anywhere but at Balthiss's hands. "I am."

Whatever Balthiss was holding gave off a soft pulse of light. It stayed red now, even when he

stopped bathing it in smoke. Balthiss rubbed it momentarily against his lip, then began to polish

it with his thumb. "Hot under the collar, so to speak..."

Arthur worked the buttons of his collar loose and pulled at the fabric. "Yeah."

Balthiss squeezed the stone then whispered to it, lips close enough to brush the stone while he

spoke, "Is it even your child?"

Arthur snapped the glass to the table so hard a fracture shot up the side. "I don't think it is my

child. The timing is all wrong. I'm away from home so often, how could she have gotten pregnant?"

"How dare she..." The words were even less audible than the last, but they had their intended

effect.

"HOW DARE she do this to me." Arthur dug through his pockets trying to find a pack of cigarettes.

When he failed to turn up anything more than a book of matches Balthiss pulled out an all black

packet and drew out a black cigarette. He offered it to Arthur who took it, his hands shaking.

Balthiss produced a little silver lighter that took some coercion to light. Somewhere after the

sixth or seventh attempt he managed to light it for Arthur. "After All I do for her, she goes and

gets herself knocked up. Like I can support her and the one we already have."

Balthiss looked from Arthur to the lighter with some small satisfaction then flipped it over and

pressed the bottom of the lighter. A sound like a shutter click followed the motion and he

murmured, "Freeze."

Arthur froze, cigarette leaving a smoke trail as he had started to gesture with it. Balthiss could

see he was really building up to a rage. He turned to regard the only other visible patron.

"Emmoss," he tossed an unshelled nut at the dirty hair on the bar. The nut hit the other man and

rolled off the bar. "Get your lazy lump off my bar. It's time. Do you have enough Power to do it?

We are only going to get one good shot before the Brotherhood guesses what is going on."

"Wot, doan' 'Oi get to droun' my sorrows too? Why's it always got to be 'Emmoss, do this', an'

'Emmoss, get your lump up and bewitch this...'", His accent was thick either from his birth place

or his blood alcohol level. It was hard to tell.

"Shut it. You've got about two minutes before that cigarette burns down far enough to get his

fingers and you'll get to deal with stunning him on your lonesome."

"Foine. Dunno why it can't be you, though."

Balthiss pulled a particularly warped bottle from under the bar. "If you want to get paid, you'll

just get it done." He tapped the bottle as he spoke. "Then again, I can just pour this out..."

"NO!" Emmoss jumped up and moved down the remaining length of the bar at a jog. "Don' be 'asty,

Bal. Just ... we're glacial, mate. I'm doin' it now, see?" He approached Arthur from behind and

pulled the collar of his shirt a little lower. "Ah, 'e still has the mark from th' last time.

Should be cake." Emmoss leaned down as if to kiss Arthur on the neck but stopped before he touched

him. He exhaled against the skin and a trickle of smoke rolled out of his lips. A flick of his

tongue and Emmoss sent smoke rings against Arthur's neck. Instead of breaking apart and fading out,

the rings collided with Arthur and sank in. "Possession is nine-tenths of th' law..." He laughed

and fixed Arthur's shirt. "Now, do 'is memory and we'll send 'im back. I'll hitch to him when th'

time is right and we'll 'ave the kid." The smile the two shared showed far too many teeth.

Molly put the last of the dishes into the sink. Silvia sat at the table finishing a glass of milk,

playing with the water left behind by the cold glass. She twisted her fingers and gestured away

from herself and her charm glowed as the water fled before her. Without turning around Molly called

to her daughter, "What have I told you about using wild magic this side of the Veil? Hmm?" She

turned just in time to catch the guilty look on Silvia's face.

"Sorry mom." She put the glass down, empty now.

"Oh baby. I'm sorry. Listen, we can go back tonight. How about that?" her gaze flicked to the hall.

Her eyes counted the locks on the door and made sure each was still in place.

"That sounds fine. But let me get bun-bun first." Silvia hopped down from the chair and raced into

the back part of the apartment to get her stuffed toy.

Molly pulled a pair of long silver hair sticks out of the junk drawer in the kitchen. She put her

hair up into a bun then slipped both in place. A violet gemstone hung from one, twinkling in the

kitchen light. "Don't forget your shoes, Silvie." She exited the kitchen and passed into the

bedroom. She went to the sliding glass doors and unlocked them, pushing them apart and stepping

back. The night was muggy and warm. The air currents battled briefly as the colder air in the house

lost the fight to the night breeze.

"Right, I'm ready mommy." Silvia was clutching her stuffed rabbit and a pair of well worn shoes in

one hand, the other she slipped into her mother's hand. She felt Molly start briefly. "Mom, you're

cold."

"It's nothing baby. Now, hold on tight." Molly closed her eyes and held up her free hand. She

lifted a finger as if she were going to ring a door bell, then drew her hand downward.

"Translocate."

A number of things all happened at the same time. The hair stick with the gemstone began to glow

with a nimbus of violet light. As her hand moved through the air, it left behind a smudge of violet

smoke. Between the outlines of the smoke a slightly different version of the apartment was visible,

but outside the smoke the same apartment they were in could be seen. Molly let out a soft sigh of

pleasure. They were going home. She gave a sideways flick with her hand as if she were throwing

aside a curtain and the rend in the Veil opened wide enough to pass through. Molly squeezed

Silvia's hand and smiled. "Almost there. I can smell the garden from here, can't you?"

Balthiss plucked the lit cigarette from Arthur's fingers and blew on the glowing ember. It winked

out like a candle flame. "Humans." he shook his head. Treating the cigarette like a pen he drew a

mark in ash above both of Arthur's eyes then poked him in the middle of the head with the

cigarette. The lines sank into his skin as Arthur's eyes lost a little color, becoming slightly

glassy. "There. He'll be blind to the Veil again and the memory block is ready. Now, let's get this

meat stick back into his t-"

A small brass rod began to vibrate on the bar. A number of red and green lines lit up along the

side of the rod. They scrolled across the rod like a ticker marquee and caused Balthiss to curse so

explicitly that the spot on the bar under the rod caught fire. "We're late. Maybe too late. She's

translocating. She was supposed to stay until the next day. I'm going to kill that idiot magus."

"Bal, 'e told you, 'is view of the Winding Path is obscured. It were a best guess."

"Not good enough. We're going to lose the kid." He picked up the remote for the TV in the corner.

"Deal with Meat Boy. We might need him still. Get him on the way. I doubt he'll get there in time

to stop her, but it's all or nothing now. We can't let that child get back to the Hidden World." He

pointed the remote at the TV and snapped, "Astral Occularis." The picture changed from a sports

game no one was watching to a view outside the apartment in question as though seen through a round

lens like a fish eye.

Molly and Silvia started walking towards the rip. Molly put her hand out and caught the edge. She

rested her weight against it briefly. A flicker of pain from her pelvis gave her pause. The

contraction stole her attention briefly. Her brow furrowed and she pushed it from her mind. She had

to concentrate to keep the rip open. She didn't want to stay in the apartment any longer than

necessary at this point.

Arthur got back into his truck. He couldn't remember how much he had had to drink and he reeked of

smoke. He rammed the gear shift into reverse and laid down two fresh black lines as he spun the

truck into the street. The only thing he could remember from sitting there and drinking alone was a

growing feeling of rage and a curious nagging feeling that there was something he had to

desperately get back home to stop. As the truck lurched to a stop facing the right direction, he

slammed the gear shift into drive. Tires screaming, he launched the truck down the road.

Molly stood up and smiled down at Silvia. "Sorry, Mommy just had a cramp, that's all." She pulled

gently on her daughters hand and took a step through the rift.

The view on the television was now showing the bedroom, the rift, and the two humans. Balthiss

snarled and snatched the brass rod off of the counter. He cocked his arm back and threw it as hard

as he could at the TV. The brass rod elongated as it flew, turning from rod into javelin. It hit

the glass and pushed through it as if it were tough plastic. "BARRIER!" Balthiss screamed, just as

the view on the TV winked out.

"Whelp, guess we won' be able to tell if that worked unless Mr. Meat gets there."

Balthiss turned very slowly to Emmoss. "If I didn't need you to possess Arthur, I would be killing

you right now."

Emmoss jerked away from the bar and Balthiss. The dark beady eyes had burned away and left gold

orbs in their place. "Bal, your mask..."

Silvia's view was not nearly as obscured as her mothers, having been on the side and facing the

edge of the rift. Her gasp caused Molly to quicken her pace. She didn't see what her daughter saw:

the form about the size of a beach ball that had been until that very moment loitering outside on

the balcony, invisible, suddenly become visible as it ejected a slender brass object. As the brass

pierced the ball, it burst like a soap bubble and foul smelling greasy smoke dispersed into the

night air.

Molly's momentum had half carried her through the rift when she collided with the barrier. For a

brief moment nothing happened. Then in painful slow motion she saw an ugly red pulse flash across

the barrier. In her mind it was slow enough she could see the symbols etched onto the barrier and

even could tell the properties of the barrier. It gave her a fleeting idea of who or what had cast

the spell. Those thoughts were driven from her mind when the pulse hit her. There was pain and

suddenly she was knocked back from the rift. She staggered but tripped on the carpet and fell

heavily. Her only thoughts were for the safety of her unborn child. Unfortunately for her, such

narrow focus cost her the attention she was using to keep the rift open and it snapped shut.

"MOMMY!" Silvia's scream split the night. She looked briefly at the barrier, hanging red and ugly

where the rift in the Veil had been a moment before, then back to her mother. The carpet was

becoming wet beneath her feet. "Mommy, what, no!" Silvia threw her arms around her mother and began

to cry.

Molly wrapped her arms protectively around her belly as the pain moved from her behind, down to her

pelvis. She felt her water go and knew what was happening. As she had joked about with her doctor,

this was not her first time in the rodeo. "Silvie," she kept her voice as quiet and calm as she

could. "Get the phone. Call an ambulance."

Silvia pulled her right hand free, the charm dangling from the bracelet on that wrist. "L-

levitate!" She pulled her hand towards her, still sobbing softly. A thumping and bumping sounded

down the hall as something hit the wall and seemed to bump and drag against the wall until it found

the open bedroom door. A wireless handset phone arced through the room and fell beside Silvia. She

snatched it up and dialed 911.

"Well, 'es there. They, 'owever, are not." Emmoss was seated at the bar, a far away and vacant

expression on his face. Now and then his fingers twitched in what looked like spastic little jerks.

"Get my rod. Start going through Arthur's memories of before you slipped in. Maybe something was

missed."

Emmoss nodded, then furrowed his brow. "'Old on. This is odd, yes, 'ello, I see you... who..."

Emmoss began to smile again. "Wonderful. Seems we got a noisy neighbor who is currently giving our

Mr. Meat a right 'orrible time about what 'e musta done to Ms. Meat. Seems an ambulance was

called... and picked up the missus. She is 'eaded now to St. Pearls. Got your rod. 'Ere, I'll send

Arthur. We can take a short cut." He shook himself hard like a dog does after a bath. He ran his

hands through his dirty hair then slipped them into his coat. "Unless you 'ave an objection."

"No, by all means. After all, Arthur has my focus. If I tried that with Wild Magic, we might end up

in the wrong place entirely."

"Did I tell you about the time I tried that? Wound up in Belgium. Spent a week 'iking until I could

get back to Civilization..." Emmoss drew a pocket watch from his coat. A pale green flickered to

life around the watch as he drew a line in the air with his finger. "Translocate." The other side

of the line opened onto a roof somewhere. "And I 'ad the 'ardest time getting all the pine tar out

of me coat. Must have 'it every tree on the way down that bloody mountain..."