Jigsaw World (24 page)

The Seer had started training her in something
he called shadow walking, which involved taking a walk and changing
the world around them as they walked. At first, he had been the
instrument of those changes, and she had been terrified by the
mutability of the world around them. How could she not be lost in
such a place, if ever she was to lose track of the Seer.

Only a few days in, the Seer had introduced
her to Arpad, whom he had charged with training her in such
‘mundane’ activities as shadow walking. This he had said with a
deadpan face and voice as he reached his arms into someplace
that did not
exist
, and extracted a hot pizza for the three of
them to eat. From that day on, Arpad had provided the instruction
and guidance, and the Seer only served to confuse her and give her
a headache.

Arpad had proven to be an excellent
instructor, patiently telling her point by point what to think, to
feel, to do, to make the world around them begin to change. The day
that the change she sought, a blue flower growing in a crevice
between two rocks, actually was there where she had willed it to
be, she was excited, and happy and even proud of herself. After
that, her learning curve had sharpened.

The Seer had told her many things about the
working of reality that seemed obvious after he had mentioned them,
but for some reason she had never considered. He had shown her many
places that were strange, some that could not have existed anywhere
on the earth as she had ever known it.

He had taken her through one door and had
shown her a great flat place, which may have been a huge pane of
glass, and above it was another plate such as the one that served
as the ground. On the ground was a large geometric pattern of
intricate loops and swirls laid out in silver that seemed liquid.
One could not see the pattern without seeing motion, although one
never actually saw anything move. The Seer told her that this was
the place of a great battle, which saved millions of alternate
earths from oblivion.

Arpad had done nothing so grandiose in her
training. He had simply taken her out, day after day, to ride the
horses through changing landscapes to ‘places in shadow’. Sometimes
he made her do the changing of the world around them; just giving
her some descriptions of the places he wanted her to take
them.

They had ridden to several different places,
visiting the place that a man named Rafe lived with two trainees of
his and an old wolf. They visited the place that another friend had
come from, and they visited the place called Nergalgard, which was
basically a twenty-four hour a day party house. They had met the
one handed Tyr, and had met a guy named Heimdall, a man that was
whiter than an albino, with eyes that could see everything, a man
who was nearly as wide as he was tall, and was all
muscle.

Heimdall was a mystery to everyone, even Tyr,
who had been around him forever. Both of them were considered by
most to be gods, but nobody knew Heimdall’s history, not even him.
There were many stories about where he came from, but he had been
unchanged for more than five thousand years. That was when he had
appeared in the Halls of Asgard, bereft of memory. A Huge being
known as the Guardian of Order had referred to him as ‘The Guardian
of the North’, and suggested that he knew of his origins, but he
didn’t explain.

She said that Arpad had been living in
Nergalgard the last few decades. He was from an alternate world
where the Magyars still roamed their lands, and he had discovered
the ability to shadow walk after he had been wounded in a battle,
and was riding just ahead of people who wanted to put his head on a
spike. He had felt as though he was about to pass out, but instead,
the world around him suddenly changed, and the pursuers were no
longer behind him.

Tom suggested that they would be better off to
settle down at the table and continue this conversation, shutting
the gate so that the horse could graze the courtyard, and setting
up the umbrella and the misters so that they would be cool and
shaded while they conversed. To say it was to do it.

“
The Seer said that you would need
us soon.” Arpad said. “Heimdall has promised to come also. He will
be here today or tomorrow.”

Tom mused that the crowd was going to get
pretty big. Already the crowd included Karla, himself, Markus,
Vera, Veritasia, Arpad, the Herald and the Sorcerer. Soon, they
would include Heimdall, Tyr, the Sage and Cernunnos. Definitely
enough for a pizza dinner.

The Herald came out and greeted Arpad as
though he knew him. He explained that he had met him in ‘The Battle
of Order and Chaos’. Arpad had been a member of the first circle,
whatever that meant, while the Herald had been in the third circle
with his master. Veritasia chimed in that she had seen the
battlefield he was speaking of, and she looked at Arpad with even
more respect. Tom concluded that she had definitely moved
on.

The Herald remarked that the Sorcerer needed
to get to a particular store that day, and he had graciously
volunteered the group’s assistance and the use of their RV to get
there. Tom wondered why the Sorcerer needed to go anywhere with the
powers he had, and he also felt like he should be mad at the Herald
for his presumption, but a trip outside sounded pretty good right
then. What the hell.

They accepted the job of shepherding the
Sorcerer to where he needed to go. They all got up and started the
slow walk to the RV when the Sorcerer emerged from the building,
looking eager to shop. In short order, they were jostling back down
the road toward the more commercial part of town.

They pulled up to the front of a house,
converted into a storefront. It was a combination magic shop and
coffee shop, with a decent library of occult books for sale or loan
as well. It was run by a petite lady of indeterminate age named
Silvia.

“
I am looking for an amulet of
Thoron, and maybe a hand of glory, if the price is right.” The
Sorcerer said. “A good supply of Herbs would be useful, too. Mostly
cleansing ones, like sage, or essentials, like rosemary or
lavender.”

“
I can get you the rosemary,
lavender, sage and the amulet.” Silvia replied. “The hand will be
expensive, because you will have to buy out another person who
wants it.”

“
Money is no object.” The Sorcerer
boasted. “My friend will pay.” He gestured at Tom.

Tom was about to object, and then he
considered that he still had better than twenty thousand Walmart
dollars languishing in a bag in the back of the RV. He might as
well use a couple hundred on whatever this trip was about. Looking
about at his companions, he could tell that they were all agreed on
this. All but Veritasia and Arpad, who had apparently taken the
opportunity to slip back into the RV for a little bed athletics. He
could just make out the slight movement of the vehicle body up and
down on its axles in that ancient rhythm. Yep, she was definitely
over him.

Just to remind him that he wasn’t losing
anything, Tom took the opportunity to wrap his arm around Karla,
and squeeze her up close. Silvia went back behind the bead curtain
for a moment to retrieve the items that the Sorcerer wanted. While
she was gone, Tom meandered out to the RV to grab a handful of cash
to pay the herbal tab. In a couple of minutes he had returned to
the shop, where Silvia had also re-emerged from the back of the
store with the merchandise.

The Sorcerer took a moment to examine the
goods, and then he gave his critique. “The amulet is good. We will
take all of the herbs you brought out.” He said. “The hand of glory
is a dud. It is not from the hand of a murderer. His has more
power.” He pointed at Tom.

Tom wasn’t sure what the proper social
protocol was in this sort of circumstance. Should he act menacing
and dangerous, or should he assume a pained gentlemanly demeanor?
He could fake either one, but best to just dismiss it. “Fuck off.”
He said.

Tom and Karla took a few moments to browse the
shop. It really had some fine occult books, including five
different books that titled themselves as ‘The Necronomicon’,
several bins of herbs and things like mandrake root (is that
considered an herb?), Spirit catchers, dream catchers, Ouija
boards, tarot cards, an odd assortment of athames, wands, staffs,
candles, and an old newspaper in the corner that was dated six
years ago, and probably wasn’t for sale.

There was also a row of more massive objects
on a couple of shelves. Things like crystal scrying globes, casks
made out of various exotic woods intended to contain powerful
things, and a number of lead crystal and pewter figures of various
mythological and fantasy creatures and figures. On the wall hung a
picture of what was possibly the ugliest woman that had ever lived.
Silvia’s mother, perhaps?

After a while, the Sorcerer wrapped up his
business in the magic Shoppe, and they all strolled back out to the
RV. Looking about them, they all spontaneously decided that they
were not quite ready to go to the compound yet, and there was an
interesting looking bar/coffee shop/indoor/outdoor place next door
where they could get coffee or food, they could smoke or they could
play volleyball. There was even a pool table under an outdoor shed
roof. Almost wordlessly, they all agreed to go to check it
out.

Fifteen minutes passed, and they were all
clustered around the outdoor pool table with coffees, playing a
round robin pool game. Tom had to take some tricky shots, because
the rules of the game was that you would shoot until you missed,
then hand off to the next in line. With straight pool, he could
have run the table every time, so he compromised by only shooting
triple and quadruple bank shots and calling each shot.

It turned out that Markus and Karla were
decent shots, and Vera was a novice. Oddly enough, the Sorcerer was
pretty awful at the game, pretty much never getting more than one
shot in the pocket before missing. If Tom had known that going in,
he would have tried to con him into betting on the games before
tipping his hand, so that he could recoup some of the Walmart money
the old buzzard had spent.

They played several such games, and then Karla
and Vera spent a half hour or so batting the ball back and forth
over the net in the sandy court, and they thought they were playing
volleyball. Maybe they were, but it looked more like they were
desperately trying to slap a round bat or flying rodent out of the
air.

Finally, Tom and the Sorcerer were sitting at
the table, sipping coffee and enjoying the outing. It was time to
get some answers. Tom leaned over to the Sorcerer. “So, where are
you from?” He asked.

“
Earth.” The Sorcerer said. “Just
not
this
Earth. The place I grew up was a place of gossamer roads and
predator trees, a place where the ocean was in the sky, and where
incorporeal beings inhabited the land along with the various
hominid beings. Once there was war between the corporeal and the
incorporeal, but it was set aside when dark demonic gods invaded
our world.”

“
So which one are you?” Tom asked.
“Are you a Corporeal or an Incorporeal? That shadow thing you do
could be argued about either way.”

“
I am kind of a special case.” The
Sorcerer said. “I was trained under one of the greatest living
Incorporeals, and was later trained by one of the greatest of the
trans-dimensional Sorcerers. I started out as a Corporeal. Almost
human, I think.”

“
I am about to dispense one of my
rare compliments to you.” Tom remarked. “While I must admit that
you are a real asshole, the Herald is far more of an asshole than
you are. I guess being a Sorcerer from a weird-ass world makes
better personalities than being a lapdog for a horny
demigod.”

The Sorcerer emitted a sudden chuckle,
followed by a continuous laughter for about a minute. When he had
finally calmed down, he made the mistake of looking at Tom, and the
laughter began again.

******

Somewhere down the hallway, a telephone rang.
The ringtone was so disconcerting that it took a second or two for
Tom to place it. He hadn’t heard the ringing of a landline since
his sojourn on Susan’s couch. In a moment it cut out, and he heard
the murmur of the Herald’s voice in the distance as he answered the
call.

Tom was busy nibbling on a bit of Karla’s
anatomy that he particularly liked when the Herald stuck his head
in the door. Despite the rather ominous look of annoyance that Tom
wore on his face for being disturbed in this fashion, the Herald
told him that Charlie had called, and requested that the group meet
him in a small town called Provo, where there was an apparent
problem with dragons.

Since Karla had been disturbed out of the sort
of drowsy half-awake state that they both liked so much, Tom
reluctantly rose and resumed the sort of clothing that would not
get double takes by the sort of spectators which should be
forbidden in a bedroom belonging to the duo of Tom and Karla. Soon
enough, the two of them were clothed, and they sallied forth to
find the others.

They joined the rest of the group around the
breakfast table, where the coffee flowed like, well, coffee, and
the biscuits, gravy, bacon and scrambled eggs diverted their
attentions for several minutes. Once their bodies were satisfied
with the quantity of food that was inside them, they got to the
business at hand.