The city was burning. Ashes drifted on a hot wind. Fueled by the elemental sounds of war – the clashing of metal on metal, crackling bouts of flame, a horse screaming somewhere nearby – Caleb A’ritre Gei spun in a dance of death. With every fiend he destroyed, another rose in its wake. The sound of metal on metal grew louder, closer. Except…there was something about this sound…

Caleb surfaced from the ugly dream of battle. He cut away from slashing swords, the phantom smell of smoke filling his nostrils. A strange buzzing sound pulled at him and he sat up, spotting the hovering ball of blue light above his bed.

The whisper-will vibrated a bit as it hovered near the ceiling, still emitting the buzz that had woken him. 

“Yes? What is it?” Caleb asked, his voice hoarse with sleep. He’d gone to bed just a few hours ago. The interruption wasn’t welcome, even if the whisper-will had pulled him from a brutal dream. 

The vibration ceased and his commander’s voice issued from the ball of light. “Message for Caleb. You’re needed in the Alcove as soon as possible. Pack light.” When it had given its message, the whisper-will flared a brighter blue for a moment and blinked out of sight. 

Caleb stretched and stood, the stone floor cold under his feet. He made his bed and gathered two days worth of supplies as he thought over the cryptic message. More than likely Master Roz had planned a mission that would take him away from Aeon, but only for a short time. Packing for two days should be sufficient. 

He glanced out the window as he pulled his pants on, instinctively looking toward the village that surrounded the eastern and southern portions of the castle, toward the house he’d grown up in. Dawn approached, but the sun had yet to crest the horizon. Streaks of yellow lit the eastern sky as a new day began. The sky was mostly clear; it may turn out to be a rare cloudless day in Aeon. The shadows were too thick to discern between the houses at this distance, and he couldn’t see anyone moving in the streets either.

He scanned to the left, to the red forest of Aeon. It was still today, with hardly a breeze to stir it. On a fair day like this, he could do a lot out at his father’s house. They’d only have so many more such days before winter, and he hated to miss it.

He put on a shirt and strapped on his soft leather armor, still thinking of the chores that would be waiting for him when he returned. He grabbed the bag he’d packed. Holding it, he focused on its size and shape, the feel of it in his hands, and softly spoke the words of the spell. The bag shuddered in his hands like a living thing and then with a soft pop it collapsed in on itself and shrank to a size he could easily shove into a pocket. 

With another glance out the window at a brightening world, Caleb left his rooms. The hallway was quiet. Most folk weren’t up yet and if they were, they weren’t advertising it. He moved to the closest stairwell and descended three flights without seeing another soul. 

On the castle’s main floor, he saw Samuel emerge from the great hall, licking his fingers. His partner’s presence confirmed Caleb’s suspicion that they were being sent on some mission away from Aeon. 

Caleb shook his head. “You stopped for breakfast?”

“Yeah, and I advise you do the same. You know how Roz is. Once she’s itching to go, she isn’t going to wait for us to do a simple thing like eat.” 

Caleb gave the great hall a wistful look and said, “I ate late last night. Let’s get on with this. Something about her message gave me—”

“A bad feeling? Me too. It was even more cryptic than usual.”

The stairwell to the Alcove and the Crossings, which were underground, far beneath the castle, waited just around the corner. Sam whistled a little too loudly for the early hour, apparently hoping to wake the entire castle since they were forced to be up.

At the foot of the stairs, Caleb shot a quick look toward the Crossings. The soft light played on crystal formations embedded in the walls at the root of Aeon Castle. He could only see one Aeon Arch from this angle, and the guard who faced it, waiting for whatever may come.

Samuel swept past him into the Alcove and Caleb followed. 

Master Rosaline Braell paced at one end of the room, a small, trim figure. She moved with efficient grace. Her long black hair, streaked with gray at the temples, was pulled back in her usual neat braid. Her glare as she turned and noticed them said they were late. “It’s about time. This is one of those days where every second counts.”

Caleb frowned, his gut-level uneasiness increasing at his commander’s obvious agitation. 

He preferred to get a little more sleep before that sort of day.
 

*****

 
Waking to the sound of heavy rain was Bristol Braell’s first clue that today was going to have its challenges. It sounded like a decent Seattle drenching out there. Her boots and raincoat were going to look great with the outfit she’d so carefully planned. 

Recalling the reason for that careful planning was enough to flood Bristol’s system with adrenaline. She shot out of bed and grabbed a hair tie so she could throw her dark locks into a messy bun. She was about to jump in a quick shower when she saw her phone light up with a new voicemail. 

The early hour wasn’t enough reason for the dread she felt at the sight. She was about at max capacity right now – she didn’t need anything else to worry about. She scooped up the phone and played the message back while she stripped for her shower. 

“Bristol. It’s Mom.” Rosaline Braell’s voice filled Bristol’s bedroom. “Look…I need to see you. I’m sending a friend to pick you up at eleven this morning. His name’s Caleb, and you can trust him. But Bristol, baby…be careful today. If anything strange happens, trust your instincts.”

That was a bizarre message to add to her stressful morning. Mom was having one of her fits again. She’d never been the most stable person, which was why Bristol had lived with Grandma as a child. Well, today Bristol didn’t have time for this. She made a mental note to call Mom back tonight. 

As the message clicked off, Bristol was already headed for the shower, her thoughts on her nine o’clock meeting. Her anxiety over the event was enough to make the air swirl against her arms, begging her to let loose and play with the elements. She could take this surplus energy out in a raging storm. Not that Seattle needed much help with that this morning. She’d be inviting trouble if she played like she wanted to, amping up the winds with her gift in the middle of this downpour.

Bristol paused and stood in the warm bathroom, holding her hands about six inches apart in front of her. She focused the energy that demanded release into her palms and watched as two swirls of wind met between her hands and spun together. Enough of the energy dissipated into the air around her that Bristol felt the familiar sensation of relief. She could contain the storm now. She ran her hands along her arms to rid herself of the sensation, closing her mind against her gift, though she longed to lose herself in the winds today. 

She couldn’t afford to indulge. She dreaded the coming confrontation, but she’d worked too hard for too long to ignore what she’d heard from the Library Science Department yesterday. She’d been turned down for the assistantship she needed – again. And she didn’t see any reason for it beyond Dr. Martin’s petty dislike. She had to stand up for herself or she would always regret it.

Maybe the result would still be the same. If so, she’d figure it out. Just two more terms and she’d have her Master’s degree, even if it didn’t come with exactly the rare books research experience she’d planned. She would have to find another way to get the research experience she needed for her dream job. She’d worked for so long…

She shut the shower off, and cut the stream of negative thinking with typical decisiveness. She would work it out. 

With the rain she decided to drive to the campus of the University of Washington, instead of taking the bus. It turned out the bus would have been faster. She got stuck behind a wreck and lost ten minutes, though she did hear two of her favorite songs. Morning DJs really knew their business, and Bristol sang along, loudly and out of tune, knowing these may be the best minutes of her day.

On the steps of Mary Gates Hall, which housed the university’s Information School, Bristol checked her watch for the fifth time since she’d parked in the only spot she could find, all the way across campus. She huffed up the last few steps of the third flight of stairs, not allowing herself to slow down. She took a brief moment to compose herself outside Dr. Martin’s door. Then she knocked.

“Come in,” he answered briskly. 

Bristol straightened her shoulders and opened the door. Dr. Davin Martin was seated behind his large desk, the expanse of wood between them well worn and scratched. Unlike the offices of most professors, his desk was clear of papers and books. His utter calm and that damned clean desk annoyed her today. “Hello, Dr. Martin.”

“Good morning, Bristol. To what do I owe the – oh, yes. Did you speak to Valerie in the office?”

“Yes, sir. She told me the assistantships are all full for the term. I wanted to check in with you. This is the third term that I’ve applied and I made sure to do so on the first—”

“I do wish we had room for everyone who wants to work with us, but it simply isn’t the case,” he told her, steepling his hands in front of him and peering at her through his thin-rimmed black glasses. “Now…if you want to continue your shifts in the library, you have been doing a wonderful job there. And I remember the Office of Research mentioning needing another assistant. I will put you in contact with them.”

Bristol seethed. In a locked corner of her mind, her gift woke up and began to stir. She felt her hair lift off her neck and smoothed it back down. She fought the wind that wanted out and brought it under control. She could handle this. 

For some reason, Dr. Martin had found every reason not to give her the job of her dreams. She’d been working her tail off for years for this. It wasn’t that she was a woman – there were plenty of women in the department. He seemed to have something personal against her.

While she was ready to blow her top on the inside, she wasn’t about to burn this bridge. “Thank you, Dr. Martin. I’d appreciate any opportunity to strengthen my application for next term.”

He nodded her direction, but his gaze was back on his computer screen as if he’d already forgotten she was there.

Bristol’s route down the stairs was undertaken at a speed much more like the tortoise than the hare. She couldn’t believe she’d been denied the job she’d worked for all these years. This was her final year of graduate school; next term would be her last chance to apply to work for Special Inquiries. 

Disappointment wasn’t a big enough word for what she felt as she made the walk to her shift at the library like the condemned walking the plank over piranha-infested waters. She just had to keep it together for a few hours. She could cry later, in private.

The image of Dr. Martin swiveling back to his work, with no regard for the difference he made in the lives around him, popped into Bristol’s head. Her gift stirred, the air tickling against the exposed skin of her hands, cool with rainwater. She would go to the bluff tonight and play – she would need to.

She clenched her jaw and sped up her pace. Screw crying. She didn’t need him, or his damned Office of Special Inquiries. It’s not like he could take her degree. She would figure out the work experience.

Bristol straightened with new resolve, the library rising up before her. It was her favorite place in the world. A few hours shelving books might just be pleasant. It would certainly be better than being out here in the rain and unable to unleash her gift.

*****

Caleb glowered up at the dark clouds hovering with implicit menace over Seattle. This city stank of spent fuel and fishing bait, and far too many humans crowded close together. He stared across the street to the cluster of people on the other side, waiting to cross. The map he’d reviewed played over in his mind. Not much farther now. The sounds around them were too many to track and his nerves were wound tight. He looked around, scanning for anything out of place, although he supposed they were the ones out of place here. No matter. It was just another mission. He would complete it and return to his own world by nightfall.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” his partner Samuel asked with a quick smile. The pollution and crowds of Earth didn’t seem to bother him at all. Samuel stood a full head taller than anyone else in sight, and his shoulders were so wide he took up the space of three average-sized men. People automatically moved out of his way, no matter what world they were in.

“I just want to get this over with. Roz wasn’t exactly forthcoming about what’s going on. And apparently her daughter doesn’t know anything about Aeon.” 

“Yeah, it’s bound to be awkward,” Samuel agreed with a shrug. “I’m not sweating it. It’s her job to tell the girl what’s what, isn’t it?”

He had a point. “I know. We’re not supposed to open our mouths.” The light changed and they crossed the wide thoroughfare. “But doesn’t it concern you at all that Roz is worried enough to bring Bristol to Aeon and force a conversation she’s avoided all these years?”

“You know I make a point not to concern myself with others’ business. Especially those responsible for my earnings.”

“Mercenary,” Caleb grumbled. He checked another street sign midstride. Almost there.

“How we gonna do this?” Samuel asked. 

“We don’t have time to waste. You go to her residence and pack her a bag. And Sam, let’s not have any public violence this time around, okay?”

Samuel smiled at him. “You sure you got the girl on your own? She is Roz’s daughter after all.”

“I know,” Caleb said. “I’m prepared.”

Samuel just smirked at him and turned heel to walk away. Their information said that the girl lived alone. Samuel would make sure the neighbors didn’t spot him. He was more than decent at stealth when he wanted to be.

Caleb turned back toward the library. Time to get this over with and get the girl back to Aeon. Whatever was going on, Roz would tell him when she got back.

*****

Bristol bent to grab another volume from the shelving cart. She deftly replaced it between two other books on the third shelf up and moved the cart down the row. So this was the work that Dr. Martin thought she was suited for, a part-time, dead-end job. She’d worked her ass off for better than being stuck in this basement. Better than shelving cart upon cart of books read by students who were actually headed somewhere. Why couldn’t he see that?

She sighed. The rejection weighed on her, possibly more than it should. When she worked so hard at something, she was used to it turning out well. But, bruised ego and all, she needed to put it out of her mind.

She looked around the quiet, book-filled space. For now, this was where she wanted to be. If it had to be a part-time, somewhat menial gig, this was the best one on campus. A couple more terms and she would finish her degree. By then, all of this career path stuff would start to fall into place. It had to.

Bristol rubbed at a knot in her shoulder and nudged the cart forward with one hip.

A sound behind her startled her. She spun to find a man standing in the wide doorway. He stared at her. He was dressed strangely, tons of black leather with buckles and straps, paired with black boots and…was that a cloak? He looked like he’d just come from a comic con or something. Only he looked too serious for that. His eyes, blue as deep clear pools, had pinned her to the spot. His brown hair was streaked with honey blonde and skimmed his cheekbones.

Why did it look like his frown was meant for her? What had she done?

Nothing, that’s what. He was probably crazy; look at how he was dressed.

Bristol turned from him and moved the cart along the row. She replaced two more books and turned a corner to find him standing in that aisle, again staring at her.

This time she stared back. “Can I help you?”

“You are Bristol Braell. I was sent to retrieve you.”

An icy fist gripped her stomach and twisted. What? Was he crazy? How did he know her name?

She gave him a closer look. Was that a knife in his belt? Was it real or was it a part of his costume? He was leather clad, the vambraces on his forearms streaked with silvery metal, and straps all over the place that could be concealing who knew how many weapons. It all looked real – if he was in a costume it was a damn expensive one.

Bristol’s breath whistled through her teeth as she took a step backward. She had to get out of here. Damn it! She had to be working in the quiet east end of the basement. She might not find anyone for two flights of stairs. He looked strong. He looked fast. He was bigger than her by far.

His expression softened as all of these thoughts ran through her mind. He held out a hand. “Wait. Your mother sent me. I was told she had sent you a message – a mail by voice?”

Bristol paused. She remembered the voicemail from her mother earlier. What in the world…

Her eyes narrowed as she focused on him, trying to decide if he was lying. But how else would he know her name?

“What proof do you have that she sent you?”

“Your mother is Master Rosaline Braell. She’s my boss, the Commander of Alpha Corps.” He slipped a hand into a pocket and Bristol tensed, but he pulled out a small square of paper. “Here – she gave me this picture.”

Master Rosaline Braell? The Commander of Alpha Corps? What had Mom been playing at? Had she gotten herself in with a bunch of lost souls who somehow thought their fantasies were reality?

Sure enough, he held out a picture of Bristol taken a couple of summers back. Her head was thrown back, hair streaming in the wind. She was laughing.

Her mother had loved this picture.

Icy dread wormed through her veins. “Where’s Mom? Has something happened to her? She’s okay isn’t she?”

“Yes, she’s okay. She’s busy and she couldn’t come herself. She’s asked that I get you back to Aeon, where she will meet up with you as soon as she possibly can.”

Bristol looked around, feeling slightly dazed. “What’s Aeon?” How in the world was she stuck in this conversation? “I can’t leave. I’m a grad student. I have classes and work. I’m not going anywhere.”

He stepped toward her and she stepped back. He looked far too certain of his ability to convince her. And he was crazy.

Still, there was something in his eyes. A sharp sort of cunning that told her this wasn’t fantasy play. It wasn’t a dream either, because she could never make up the warrior currently towering above her, blue eyes searching her face and lips parted slightly as if he was about to speak.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you stay. I have my orders.”

“Your orders?” Now Bristol stood her ground, standing as tall as her five foot three frame allowed. “And you’re saying these orders came from my mother. She wanted me to go somewhere with you, right now, sacrificing my whole life…and for what? I don’t have time for games.”

He glanced around like he was realizing where he was for the first time. He glanced down at her carefully chosen slacks and blouse for the job interview that wasn’t meant to be. He glanced quickly down at his own outfit, reminiscent of Mad Max. He seemed to realize he was out of place.

He lifted a hand to face level and casually moved it downward in a vertical line toward the floor. His clothing changed, the leathers shifting to black slacks and a leather jacket over a dark blue-buttoned shirt. It was like a male version of her outfit, with the addition of the leather jacket. 

She was oddly satisfied that he liked her outfit.

And his magic changed things. “So…you have a gift, too.”

He shook his head and smiled. “Not much of one. Just conjuring and glamour, essentially.”

“Does magic have something to do with how you know my mother?” Did he know about her gift, too?

“She has the same gift you do, apparently.” He nodded.

Bristol watched him closely. Oh, this was not good. Something about his bearing spoke of a true, trained warrior. He walked like he could leap at any moment, a taut sort of energy filling the space around him. And he had magic. 

He was dangerous.

He was a man who could stand up to her storms.

She banished the thought, horrified at her wayward mind.

“If my mother truly sent you, she had to know that I wouldn’t go with you willingly. So what did she tell you to do exactly?”

“She told me to tell you, ‘Kick it into high gear, Bristol baby. We gotta go.’”

The line hit her like a fist to the gut. It was exactly what Mom would say. He even got her tone and cadence.

“She’s serious?”

He glared. “Would I be standing in front of you if she wasn’t serious?”

Bristol gave in. So Mom wanted to see her. And despite her misgivings, curiosity had begun to worm its way under Bristol’s guard. Whatever was going on, Mom had gone to a lot of trouble. What if she was in trouble or actually needed her?

She looked up at the tall man. “What was your name again?”

He blinked. “I’m sorry. It’s Caleb. Caleb A’ritre Gei. Nice to meet you, Bristol.”

She gave a hesitant nod. She wasn’t sure it was nice at all. “So…where exactly are we going?”