Which was good.
But Giselle was troubled.
The woman had sensed something. A presence. Giselle believed the woman wasn’t as adept as she in the magical arts-only The Master could make that claim-but she clearly had some ability. More than the average apprentice, anyway. Might she have seen who was on the other side of that wall? Did she, like Giselle, possess the ability to detect the psychic traces people left wherever they went?
Giselle hoped not.
It would mean the woman could follow her to this place.
And everything would be ruined.
She dropped to her knees, closed her eyes, and clasped her hands before her. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she strove to make contact with the gods. She focused her will, tried visualizations to transport her back to that wondrous realm they inhabited, but there was nothing. Just silence. A heartbreaking void. Giselle felt a ripple of panic. Had they abandoned her?
She tried to calm down.
The problem, of course, was this stew of emotions percolating in her head. It was ruining her concentration, making communication with that other realm impossible. So she drew in a deep breath and imagined the construction of a wall. Brick by brick. Layers of mortar hardening between rows of bricks. She didn’t rush the process. The wall slowly took shape, and as it did, the nervous tremors in her body stilled. Her breathing became regular. And she felt the physical world become insubstantial. When she opened her eyes, that world was gone.
She was in the land of the gods now.
She spoke with her mind: Azaroth, I beseech you.
A swirl of black smoke parted, and a creature resembling an old man in a flowing robe appeared. She understood this wasn’t his true appearance. These creatures were composed of a different kind of matter-deity dust, you could call it-and the human eye wasn’t equipped to interpret the reality of the gods. So an illusion was created. They appeared to humans in a form they could understand. To Giselle, the god Azaroth looked exactly like a man who’d played Moses in a movie she’d seen long ago.
Azaroth smiled.
You called me?
She returned the smile.
She loved Azaroth.
Yes.
Why?
Giselle’s physical body shuddered at the memory of Ms. Wickman’s eyes.
I’m afraid I jeopardized everything. I was traveling. Through portals. I saw something in a room. That woman, Ms. Wickman. I’m afraid she saw me. I’m worried she knows what’s coming.
The god’s mouth opened.
And a sound as resonant as any oratorio filled her with delight. It was her favorite sound from any world, from any layer of existence.
It was the sound of a god laughing.
She knows nothing.
“But-” More laughter.
Dear Giselle, you overestimate this harridan. You should be careful of her, yes, but you need not be afraid of her. She possesses some psychic sensitivity, but it is feeble, not worthy of comparison to your extraordinary abilities. And she is loyal to The Master, but not at the expense of her own safety. She will not expend energy saving a sinking ship.
Giselle felt some of that bright edge of fear fade.
Azaroth sounded so sure of himself.
Well, he always did.
And he was usually right.
Almost always.
Still. But Azaroth sensed her lingering doubts: Giselle, all will be well. The other man from your vision is in place now. You will see him tonight. Be ready.
Yes!
Giselle felt a thrill of exultation.
Eddie in her room.
Chad Below.
Just as she’d seen it so long ago.
She addressed Azaroth: It’s really happening, isn’t it? We will win.
The god’s answer was encouraging but evasive.
You have an opportunity. The creature you call The Master is weaker than he has ever been. His gods have turned their backs on him.
So you’ve told me.
Azaroth continued: He is vulnerable, and the silence of the gods disturbs him. But you must not underestimate him. He is weakened, but he remains the most powerful living creature on earth. Be careful, Giselle. Be strong. Resolute.
I will!
Azaroth’s human guise began to break apart.
Yes, I think you will. And now you must go.
And then the image was gone.
Giselle experienced the usual jolt that accompanied the transition from one plane to the next. She opened her eyes and was back in the antechamber behind her room. She got to her feet and stepped off the altar. She crossed the room, touched the knob that swiveled the wall, and returned to her bedroom.
Eddie, of course, was waiting for her.
He took her into his arms.
Kissed her.
And led her to the bed.
Giselle went eagerly.
She heard the echo of Azaroth’s words in her head.
All will be well.
She willed it to be true.
Dream was dreaming.
In her dream she felt light as a butterfly, soaring in the air, flitting from place to place with ease and grace. She flew through clouds, over mountains, buzzed a herd of cattle, and passed through an airplane. As she passed through the plane, alien thoughts buzzed in her brain. She seemed to exist as many people at once. She was a gay man named Jim. She was a boy named Alexander. She was a teenage girl named Sophia.
Jim’s parents had disowned him, and he was depressed.
Alexander wasn’t doing well in school.
Sophia was fantasizing about a movie star.
There were others.
The madness of being all these people at the same time brought her out of the dream. The sensation of lightness was gone. She felt a jolt. That transitional jolt. She opened her eyes, gasped, and realized it hadn’t been a dream.
Oh my God, she thought.
It was real.
All of it.
The out-of-body experience. King. This house way the hell out here in the middle of nowhere. Shane’s death. Chad’s disappearance.
