“That’s what magic is like. It’s about balancing forces, both natural and unnatural.”

  “But with a teeter-totter you have to have two people. You’re doing magic by yourself.”

  “That’s true. In my time, magic is primarily done through partners, but a few, like myself, work alone. It’s the same principle as using a teeter-totter alone. It can be done, but it’s not as easy.”

  “Or as fun,” Liz murmured.

  “Indeed.” Henry’s whiskers twitched with amusement. “Suffice it to say that we learn how to manipulate the teeter-totter in school, much like you may have learned to read and write. We’re taught defense skills, as well as offensive skills.”

  “Can you give me an example? Just so I’m not imagining something crazy like I’d see in some movie,” Liz said with a wink.

  “Well... if we go back to our teeter-totter reference, it’s like learning how to duck rocks thrown at you or being able to catch one of those rocks and fling it back.”

  “What about when one of you falls off the teeter-totter? What then?”

  Henry’s ears laid back against his head as visions of what must have happened to his friends back in his time tumbled into his mind. He shook his head until his ears popped, then licked his ruff as he wondered if he would ever see them again.

  “There is grief counseling for that time,” he said. Liz’s mouth formed an “O” and her eyes widened. Henry continued, “We hope we’ve learned everything we need to by the time we graduate because once in the non-academic world anything could happen.”

  “Like being shot into the future by some demon?”

  “Precisely, though admittedly this is one I don’t believe anyone would have suspected possible. There’s a lot more to it, but that should be enough to get you started.”

  “I don’t suppose you know where I can get a “Real Magic for Dummies” book, do you?”

  Henry cocked his head. “I never meant to imply you’re an idiot. Ignorance doesn’t mean lack of intelligence.”

  “I know. It’s just—” Liz shrugged, then waved her hands in dismissal. “Never mind. So is there an index or something in this?”

  “It’s not that simple, unfortunately. These ancient manuscripts were hand written and hand copied, so the only way to find what one is searching for is to read the entire thing.”

  “That’ll take forever. Can’t you use magic to find what you want? It’d be like a web search for magic books.”

  Henry cocked his head and blinked. “Web search?”

  “Oh! You know!”

  “I’m afraid I don’t,” Henry said, trying to imagine how spinning a spider web over the book would somehow locate the information he was looking for. Liz squinted her eyes and looked toward the ceiling for several moments. Her fingers tapped a strange rhythm on her legs. She nodded once, then looked back at Henry.

  “When we want information, we look it up on a computer.” Henry opened his mouth to ask what a computer was, but Liz held up a hand. “It doesn’t matter what that is. Essentially, it’s like a giant library in a box, but everything is just tossed in there helter skelter. Now, imagine there are these spiders in the box whose sole job is to search through all that information and retrieve everything that matches your search criteria. Could you do something like that Henry tried to imagine an enormous box with all the books in the world where groups of spiders skittered over and around looking for particular bits of information. He shuddered.

  “I’m not sure creating spiders to crawl over the book would accomplish much.”

  “No. That’s not what I mean.” Liz bunched her fists in her lap and frowned. “I mean, what if you make up some kind of bloodhound spell that searches out only the information you want?”

  Henry thought about the idea. If he tweaked a finder incantation and added the page turn spell all cat’s used, it might just work. His whiskers widened.

  “It’s such a simple idea I’m surprised no one else has thought of it yet,” he said. “Give me just a moment.”

  He concentrated on spinning out strands of will, tuning them to find only information on the medallion, then overlaid it with an even thinner cord with the page turn spell. Satisfied he’d refined it enough to bring back the results he wanted without tearing the manuscript apart, he let it settle over the book.

  It shivered, the first page turning with a crackle. Henry held his breath as the pages continued to turn on their own. So far so good. Page upon page flipped until he was sure either something wasn’t right with his spell or there wasn’t any information about the medallion in the book. Finally it stopped about two-thirds through. Henry peered at the page.

  The hair on his spine rose as he read the words written there in an elegant scrawl. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and his body felt like it was nothing but liquid. He studied the medallion. It couldn’t be, but it was. Lying like so much junk on the hotel coffee table was one of the Seven Seals.

  “You look like cat on Halloween. What’s it say?”

  He turned to stare at Liz, his mind lost to what he’d just discovered. How could he let her continue on this mission with him? How could he continue?

  “Hellooo?” Liz said, waving a hand in front of his nose. “Earth to Henry.”

  “I have to find the rest.”

  “The rest of what?”

  “The seals.”

  “What seals? What are you talking about?”

  He looked back at the medallion. “This is one of the Seven Seals of the One. Perhaps one of the most powerful,” he said, turning wide eyes on Liz, “and dangerous artifacts ever created.”

  Liz picked the medallion up and turned it over in her hands.

  “What’s so dangerous about a little piece of hardened clay?” she asked, dangling it at her eye level. “It has something to do with these symbols, doesn’t it? Part of some magical incantation or something?”

  “You could say that.” Henry placed his paws on her thighs and gingerly plucked the medallion’s cord up in his teeth, pulling the medallion free of Liz’s hand. He set it carefully back where it had been on the coffee table. “Together, the Seven Seals can create more havoc than I imagine your world has seen of late.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” Liz said, raising an eyebrow. “We’ve been through two world wars and more smaller ones than you can shake a stick at, not to mention all the natural disasters and the regular old crime sprees.”

  “All at once?”

  “Well, no...”

  “This would be that and more.”

  “So what are we talking here?”

  Henry cited from memory the legends of numerous disasters that were attributed to each of the Seven Seals from earthquakes that sunk entire continents in the ocean to erupting volcanoes that covered cities in debris, leaving the inhabitants encased in their ashy tombs as they tried to flee. The color drained from Liz’s cheeks with each new story until she was as pale as a cloud in a sunny sky.

  “If you were anyone else, I’d say you’re putting me on, but...” Liz shook her head and stared toward the door, rubbing her arms. When she looked back at Henry, he could see the fear etching its way over her face like splintering glass. “We need to tell someone. Get some government agency to fix this or something. We can’t do this by ourselves.”

  “You yourself said there is no magic in this world. At least none that you know of, so, I doubt there is anyone else qualified within your government to retrieve the Seals.”

  “But—”

  Henry closed his eyes and shook his head, then looked back into Liz’s strained eyes. “We’re the only ones. Or rather, I am.”

  Liz stood and paced toward the door, then back.

  “Okay. If you’re the only one who knows about these Seal thingies, then I guess we’re going to have to be the ones to go after them.” Henry opened his mouth to object, but Liz held her hand up. “Just save it. You may be a magical cat, but I’m betting there are things I can do that you can’t and I know there are plenty of things about this world that you don’t know about. You need me.”

  Henry sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “I know I am. Now,” she said, flopping back down beside him, “what’s our next move?”

  Henry looked back down at the book and the medallion lying next to it. He needed to know more about the medallions, but he didn’t have access to his books. Or did he? His whiskers widened as he turned narrowed eyes back on his new partner.

  “How would you like to learn to use magic?”

  Several hours later, Henry took a surreptitious glance at the digital clock on the opposite wall. He had yet to make any connection between Liz and the magic he could feel in the air around them. His hopes of using Liz as a conduit to reach his books in the nether library were quickly disappearing.

  “It’s no use,” Liz said, flopping back against the couch. “I haven’t got a magical bone in my body.”

  Henry slumped to floor, flattening his entire length against the cool carpet and closing his eyes. It might not be an accurate description, but she wasn’t far off.

  “Maybe it’s a matter of distance in time or some such sci-fi stuff,” she said.

  “Perhaps,” he said and sighed. “But without my books, I’m clueless as to how we’re going to find any of the Seals.”

  “What, exactly, are you looking for? I mean, maybe there’s a way of finding the information some other way.”

  “I wouldn’t know how. You said yourself that there are no books on real magic now.”

  Liz shrugged. “I could be wrong. What if some of the stuff is real, but it’s hidden in a bunch of mumbo-jumbo?”

  “That is a very real possibility. After all, I didn’t even know the Seven Seals of the One existed as anything more than a story and I thought I’d cataloged every ancient artifact ever created.”

  “So, back to my question, then. What are you looking for?”

  “We need to find a way to track the movements of the Seals. The last recorded use of any of them was a pandemic called the Plague of Justinian during the Byzantine Empire.”

  “Wait!” Liz exclaimed, jumping to her feet. “You mean the bubonic plague was the result of the Seven Seals?”

  “Only one of them, but yes.”

  “Holy—” Liz paced toward the door, then turned back. “That killed around 100 million people. What else can they do?”

  “According to the fables, each medallion is capable of bringing about one particular form of disaster. When brought together, one has the ability to raise the dead as either an army or as a release from purgatory, depending on which tale you believe.”

  “So what are some of the disasters?”

  “Let’s see,” Henry said, lifting a paw. He drew the seven symbols representing each medallion’s curse in a circle, studied it for a moment, then looked back at Liz. Her brows pinched together as she frowned.

  “Well that’s pretty, but what does it mean?”

  Henry stared at her through the glowing orange symbols, his head cocked in confusion. Suddenly he remembered, Liz wasn’t from his time—or rather, he wasn’t from hers. She probably wasn’t familiar with Hehberic.

  “My apologies. I forget you’re not familiar with these things. These are the symbols for each of the medallion curses. They are The Conqueror,” he said, touching the top image and proceeding to the right as he continued, “The Warrior, The Beggar, The Scourge, The Martyrs, and The Earthshaker.” He touched the center image and set it rotating slowly. “This one is The Winged Ones, or you would call it The Angels.”

  “Hold it. I’ve seen that one.”

  “Where?”

  “Meg was wearing it at the party.”

  “Meg?”

  “You remember, piranha in a red dress.”

  “Oh yes. The one who offered you a job. I do remember her covering a necklace with her hand. I assumed she thought I was a brainless beast who would jump at the chance to snatch a “pretty thing” from her person. A rather chilling woman as I recall.”

  “Yeah. She gave me the willies.” She leaned closer to the image. “But this doesn’t look right. The one she was wearing had miniature medals dangling from it on chains.”

  Henry’s chest tightened, his fur lifting. “How many? Do you remember?”

  Liz closed her eyes and jabbed her finger several times in the air. When she opened them she pointed to the center image.

  “Seven. Here,” she said, tracing seven lines from the bottom of the circle. “There was some kind of design on each of the little medals, but I couldn’t tell what they were.”

  “The seven plagues.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “It’s not,” Henry said, shaking his head and trying to force his fur to flatten. “The Angels medallion is also called the Final Curse because within it are seven plagues and natural disasters that are said to be able to decimate the earth.”

  “I think it’s safe to assume Meg knows what that medallion is.”

  “Yes. But does she know how to use it?”

  “You think it’s possible she can use magic?”

  “Magic has been around since the beginning of time. Apparently, most humans have lost the ability to access it—”

  “But that doesn’t mean everyone has,” Liz said, completing his thought. “If that’s the case, then I bet she has the others.”

  “Or, at the very least, she may know where the other medallions are.”

  “Looks like I’m going in for an interview.”

  ***

  Henry gazed at the sleek metal and glass structure that housed Meg Luther’s headquarters. He wasn’t sure what he expected the Horde’s twenty-first century hideout to look like, but this wouldn’t have been the one he’d suspected. It stood no taller than any of the surrounding buildings, nor did it necessarily draw the eye in any way. Unlike several other fountains along the block that displayed a variety of mythical beasts, the lone fountain outside Luther Incorporated’s main doors sprayed a single stream into the air, falling in a weeping willow pattern.

  “For an evil lair it looks pretty ho-hum,” Liz said, leaning over him.

  “Looks can be deceiving,” he said, feeling the medallion’s faint tug as it floated away from his neck. Curious. I wonder what this means. He patted the necklace back in place. No time for curiosity now, cat.

  “Shall we get on with it?” he asked.

  Liz opened the new handbag she’d purchased for this covert operation and Henry hopped in, burrowing to the bottom under a layer of odds and ends Liz swore would be in every woman’s bag.

  Henry swayed in time with Liz’s footsteps. The rhythmic swoosh made him increasingly nauseated. He hoped he wouldn’t leave an unpleasant surprise in the bottom of Liz’s new bag. He breathed a silent sigh of relief when he felt the bag settle onto something hard.

  “I’m here to see Ms. Luther,” Liz said.

  “May I have your name, please,” said a light male voice.

  “Elizabeth Manning. She said I should drop by sometime if I were interested in hunting bigger game.”

  “I see. Please have a seat, Ms. Manning. I’ll see if Ms. Luther is available to see you today.”

  Henry braced himself as he felt the bag lift and sway once more. It settled again on something softer. The sound of rustling cloth drew his gaze upward to peer into Liz’s brown eyes.

  “All clear,” she whispered as she continued to shift items around him. “The receptionist went toward the doors on the right. Looks like the real work happens somewhere down the hall to the left.”

  Henry poked his head out, keeping his ears flat against his head. A sea of white greeted him. From the floors to the ceiling, everything, including the metal and leather seating in the lobby, shone as white as new fallen snow. And I just happen to be the color of mud. Great. Taking a deep breath, Henry leaped from the bag. He scurried behind a large potted white caladium plant on the other side of the settee, praying he didn’t leave any stray hairs behind.

  “Liz,” called Meg as she strode across the room. Her deep red pantsuit made Henry think of cardinals in the winter. The woman reached an elegant hand out toward Liz and said, “So good of you to stop by. I take it you’ve considered my offer.”

  “I must say it intrigued me.”

  “As it should. Please, step into my office and let’s have a little convo about your bright new future, shall we?”

  Henry watched Meg lead Liz away, the younger woman’s jeans and black blazer a stark contrast in style to Meg’s professional attire. As the women disappeared behind a set of glass doors, Henry considered which direction to go. The emblem tugged in the direction of the long white hall with beige carpet to the left of the receptionist’s overlarge desk. That way it is, then.

  He waited for the young man to turn away, then bellied toward the hall. He scooted from potted plants to rolling carts and coffee stations as he made his way past brightly lit offices, following the medallion’s tug until he reached a door marked “employees only.” The hushed sounds of paper sliding and keyboards clicking on this side of the door were all Henry heard. Soundproof? He perked his ears forward, straining to hear anything from the other side. There could have been a mountain between him and whatever was happening beyond the door for all he could hear.

  Henry peered around the pot, back down the hall, searching for anyone who might see him. Here goes nothing. He twitched his tail to open the door just wide enough to squeeze through and darted past. Another blinding white hallway dotted with darkened recesses greeted him. There were no potted plants or coffee stations to be seen. Poor lost kitty won’t work here.

  As he slunk down the hall, he cautiously checked each doorway. The empty rooms smelled of chemicals and little else, making Henry wonder why there were so many empty, sterile rooms in Meg Luther’s company headquarters. He continued onward until he came to a bend. He peered around the corner, noting a tall, handle-less metal door at the end of the hall. Two shorter cut-outs he assumed were more doorways stood sentry halfway between him and the metal door. He sat back and stared at the blinding white wall across from him.

  Something shushed around the corner. Footsteps followed the sound. Screwing his courage as tight as he could, Henry bellied toward the sound of footsteps, praying that whoever was about to round the corner wouldn’t notice a brown cat on the white tiles.

 

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