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Prologue
Location: The Red Devil, Lost Haven
Time: Night, Six Hours after the Soul Stone’s Creation
Time: Night, Six Hours after the Soul Stone’s Creation
”Find them . . .” a voice called from beyond.
Marie walked down a narrow, mossy, cobblestone path, jagged from years of neglect. On each side stood a row of trees, limbs gnarled and bare, twisting overhead to form an eerie archway that let in the thinnest strands of moonlight. Time stretched on in both directions, a thick fog masking whatever might await at the end of the way. She could feel something watching, following.
”Find them . . .” the voice came again, louder than the first. Marie quickened her pace, feeling something creeping up behind her but unable to turn and face it.
”Find them and all shall be revealed . . .”
Marie was now running at full sprint, speeding down the narrowing path, vines twisting along the ground and tripping her up from time to time, the wall of trees growing closer, branches falling onto her shoulders, grasping at her arms. She was overtaken by them, held in place. From beyond the fog, a heavenly glow grew closer, piercing through the mist. A woman, face obscured by divine light, held out her hands to Marie, gifting her something small and rough.
”My eye,” the woman’s voice was smooth and clear. ”I gift you my eye so that you may see the truth. Look through this lense to see my world, to find what is mine. Do this and all shall be revealed . . .” Her voice began to fade, as did all of Marie’s senses. The ethereal glow, the ominous voice, the twisting vines, gnarled branches, and jagged cobblestones, gone. Marie looked down at her hands to find the last remaining spark of light. She opened her hands and . . .
*********
Marie awoke suddenly on the floor of the work room in The Red Devil. Her joints popped as she rose, steadying herself on a stone altar, knocking over a vial of graveyard dirt in the process. Holt rose from his slumber atop a bookcase in the form of a cat, startled by the sounds of shattering glass and stone grinding against the hardwood floor.
”Marie?” Holt jumped down, coming to Marie’s aid. ”Is everything alright?”
”Yeah . . .” she groaned, managing to finally pull herself up and straighten herself out. She was understandably stiff, having collapsed in exhaustion after her meeting with Broker. ”Just a weird dream.” She looked down at her hands to find nothing but smudges of soot from the altar top.
After wiping her hands on a nearby piece of cloth, Marie walked over to a large, hanging mirror to get a good look at herself. She had changed out of her White Witch attire upon arriving at The Red Devil and just before passing out, but she still wore her glamour charm and the pendant given to her by Broker. Her fingers traced the designs on the pendant as she stared at it in the mirror. Should she take it off? Surely it wasn’t necessary since the ritual had already been performed.
Marie thought on this a few moments longer before stripping off the pendant and casting it to the side. She waited there for a moment to see if some mysterious supernatural consequence might render her into an insane mess of screaming and excruciating pain, but luckily, no such thing occurred.
”Was it Gwyneth?” Holt prodded, eyeing the infernal trinket as it spun atop the table before coming to rest.
Marie sighed, stretching and fixing herself in the mirror. ”I’m sure it was, but god knows what she was trying to say. You’d think that after a crazy necromantic ritual she’d be able to speak to me more plainly, but I guess spirits and witches love their cryptic riddles.”
”Mortals hide their true intentions behind colorful words, they lie and deceive. Spirits will always offer the truth, though it may be difficult to decipher.” Holt retorted, changing into a raven and flying onto Marie’s shoulder.
”I don’t need a lesson in Otherwordly ethics and etiquette, Holt. I just need to know what it is Gwyneth wants me to find. I know that in order to gain her lost memories, I need to recovering the pieces of her that are scattered around the world, but I haven’t the slightest idea what those are yet or where to find them.” Marie sighed again, feeling both exhausted and defeated. Broker’s spell had given Marie a greater glimpse into Gwyneth’s past, but the pieces still didn’t fit together as perfectly as she would have liked.
”Might I suggest trying again?” Puck’s voice startled Marie. He strode through the door to the work room bringing with him a slight chill. ”Pardon me, I didn’t mean to interrupt your brooding. I just wanted to see how you were doing after your little soiree with Greed. A few unsavory folk have already stopped by to find the cause of the power surge in New York. I’ve been rather busy this evening.” Puck spoke of Rune and company.
Marie looked at him with worry, but Puck calmed her with a reassuring look. ”You needn’t worry. I’ve ensured your safety and no one save Broker knows of the White Witch’s involvement.”
”T-thank you,” Marie spoke with a sigh of relief, ”But what did you mean, try again? Even though my connection to Gwyneth is stronger, I still don’t know what she’s trying to tell me.”
Puck smiled, ”You said it yourself, your connection to your past life has grown stronger. You have a greater access to her memories, which means you also have a greater access to her magic. You share Gwyneth’s power, and if it was her power that scattered her possessions, it will be her power that finds them. Tap into that connection! Perhaps they will call to you now that you are more recognizable to them.”
It made sense. Before unlocking what few pieces of Gwyneth’s memory that she had, Marie was altogether unable to locate any of Gwyneth’s possessions. Maybe it was that she needed the extra push from Gwyneth to find them.
Marie nodded, sitting down at a nearby table and unfolding a map of the U.S. She had no reason to believe that Gwyneth’s valuables would be anywhere near her, but it was a starting point. Marie took a handful of sand from a jar and coated the map until nothing was visible. She placed her hands over the map and focused on her recent vision of Gwyneth. Calling back to the item in her hand, she willed its image to be revealed, for its whereabouts to be known. The sound of shifting sand made her giddy. When Marie opened her eyes, she saw that the sand had retreated from a small part of the map, leaving an empty circle around New York.
”See?” Puck smugly chimed in.
”Alright, theory proven, but that doesn’t really narrow things down. New York’s not the biggest state, but I still have no idea where to begin looking, or what I’m looking for.” Marie was again feeling dejected. She felt her mission moving one step closer and two steps back.
”I thought something like this might happen, which is why I’ve been on the lookout for any interesting goings on around the country. And it just so happens that New York made it onto my list.” Puck pulled a Manhattan newspaper from behind his back and gave it to Marie. She looked at it for a few moments, flipping through until she found the heading he was talking about.
One of the headlines read, “University Professor to Lead Exhibit on the History of European Witchcraft at the Museum of Natural History.” Marie’s eyes lit up. There was going to be an entire section of the museum dedicated to the different eras of witch belief and accompanying artifacts from those times. It was all coming together.
”If I were a betting man, which I am, I would wager that whatever item of Gwyneth's she wants you to find is somewhere in that exhibit, you need only to determine which occult artifact it is.”
Marie jumped up from her seat and hugged Puck, who smiled warmly and returned the gesture.
”Thank you,” she said with enthusiasm, tears of joy streaming down her pale cheeks. She gathered herself, brushing off a bit of dust that had settled on her dress during her slumber. She put on a thin coat and lined the inside with small magical trinkets, hoping that she could compel security to let her through without checking the coat. She then bolted downstairs, Holt flying behind her. She’d have to wait until the morning before going to the museum, but she’d have to find a suitable location to place Puck’s door so as not to cause a stir.
Arriving at the crimson door, Marie looked back at the bar, its patrons, and Puck, who had followed her down. He gave her one of his famous grins, and she met his smile with an even bigger one.
She looked down at Holt. ”I guess we’re off to New York again.”
He offered her what could only be taken as a chuckle. ”After last night’s events, let’s hope this little excursion doesn’t devolve into a witch hunt.”
Marie smiled. ”We’re already on a witch hunt.”
With that, the pair stepped through the door into New York to find the first of Gwyneth’s missing relics.
