“Do you believe me?” Miranda asked.
She spoke in a casual manner, but I saw the desperation in her eyes. Outside her dorm, a shaft of sunlight pierced through the clouds, creating a dappled pattern over the worn carpet.
“Yes, I believe you,” I answered.
She sighed, sounding relieved. “Then you’re the first.”
“To be fair, I’ve had some experience with strange happenings.”
“And you believe Zeke really exists? I mean—I didn’t make him up. I know I didn’t.”
“Miranda, what would you think if I told you that Zeke comes from an alternate reality—a fairy world?”
She leaned back. “Yeah, that would be pretty strange.”
“It’s more real than you think. I believe that Zeke may be a man I’m looking for. His real name is Mochazon, and he comes from a world called Faythander.”
“Faythander?”
“It’s an alternate reality, a magic-fueled version of Earth.”
She rubbed her neck. The tables had turned, and now it was her turn to believe my story. “Is that why his eyes were… you know… yellow?”
I nodded. “It’s also why he didn’t like crowds. There are some bad people looking for him. I’m sure he wanted to stay as secluded as possible.”
Her shoulders slumped. “And I’m the one who made him go out.”
“Don’t beat yourself up about it. You didn’t know.”
“What happens now? Can you find Zeke for me?”
I hesitated. If Zeke had been kidnapped by Geth’s men, I knew Miranda wouldn’t like my answer. But there was a slim chance he’d escaped. “I’ll do what I can. In the meantime, I need you to stay safe. Keep your doors locked. Don’t go out unless you have to. Make sure to stay in crowds where lots of people would notice if you got abducted.”
“Abducted?”
“The men who took Zeke are looking for something he has. There’s a good chance they may believe he gave it to you.”
“What was it?”
“A magical flower.”
She grew very still.
“He didn’t give it to you, did he?”
She shook her head.
“He never gave you anything?”
“No.”
“Miranda, are you absolutely sure? He never gave you anything?”
She hesitated. “Yes, I’m positive.”
I wasn’t completely sure I believed her, but twisting her arm about it would only make her distrust me. She would tell me the truth when she was ready. Picking up my pack, I decided to pay a visit to pier thirteen.
“You have to go?” Miranda asked.
“Yes, but I’ll stay in touch. Call me if you remember anything else. And if Zeke tries to contact you, I need to know.”
“Okay.” She ushered me to the door. “Thank you,” she said before I stepped outside, “for believing me.”
“It’s what I do.” I gave her a brief smile before I made my way outside and down the stairs.
The faint scent of marijuana lingered in the air. Typical college campus, I thought as I made my way across the parking lot to my car. Despite the sunshine, the air remained chilly. Wind stung my cheeks as I unlocked the door and climbed inside the Thunderbird.
In case Miranda needed to contact me, I switched my cell’s ringer back on. Scanning my phone’s screen, I saw that Brent had tried to call me twice. Ugh. No way was I talking to him. I replaced the phone in my pocket and shifted gears. He had some nerve calling me.
I drove off the campus and followed the road signs to the highway. Mid-morning sunlight streamed through my windows as I merged onto I-45. Houston’s city skyline loomed in the distance, sleek skyscrapers against a hazy sky. Turning away from the city, I took the exit for Galveston. The drive home gave me time to ponder my conversation with Miranda.
Was it my imagination that she’d seemed uncertain when I’d asked her if Mochazon had given her anything? It seemed risky for him to give her the flower, but perhaps he’d thought it would be safer with her?
I had no idea what the flower would look like in this reality. Earth magic sometimes had a sense of humor. What would be a magical orb in Faythander could turn out to be a giant gobstopper on Earth. I tried to recall if I had seen anything unusual in Miranda’s dorm, but nothing came to mind.
My phone rang, blaring “White and Nerdy” through the car. I let the voicemail pick up. My phone beeped as he left a message. Great. Couldn’t the guy take a hint?
As I crossed the causeway to Galveston Island, a text came through. Even when we were dating he hadn’t contacted me this much. Brent’s insistence nagged at me. I made it across the causeway when the phone rang for the fourth time. Was he stalking me?
The traffic bottlenecked at a stoplight as the phone continued rapping. Finally, I answered.
“Brent,” I said before he could answer, “you can’t call me anymore. We’re not a couple—”
“Olive, listen to me.”
“No! You’ve got to stop calling me.”
“Even if it’s about your mom? I went by her house this morning.”
I paused. “My mom?” I asked. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes, I tried calling her, but she wouldn’t answer, so I finally went over there.”
“What’s the matter? Is she sick?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You’re not sure? Is there something wrong with her or not?”
“She’s depressed, Olive. She’s really torn up about something, but she won’t talk about it. I’ve never seen her like that before. To be honest, I’m a little scared. I thought you should know. Anyway, you’re right. I won’t call you anymore. I’m sorry I had to be the one to tell you. I promise to leave you alone from now on.” He hung up.
My heart sank to the pit of my stomach. My worst fear had come true. Would I have to do the spellcasting? If I didn’t, her depression would only get worse. Although we’d never seen eye to eye, she was my mother. I couldn’t let her suffer.
For the next few minutes, I tried dialing Mom, but she never answered, so I reluctantly replaced the phone in my pocket. I’d almost made it to the docks. There was a slim chance I could restore the magic and avoid the spellcasting… maybe if I actually found Mochazon and the flower, my mother’s erased memories would stay forgotten.
A group of pelicans sailed along the bridge as I turned off 53rd and onto Harborside Drive. The Gulf waters shimmered in the distance as I drove toward Galveston’s port. Freighter ships stacked with cargo waited along the docks. Cranes rose into the air, carrying metal containers ready to be loaded onto the ships. The clang of machinery came from the docks. Down the road, the wide smokestack of a cruise ship rose into the air. I spotted a parking space near the pier and parked my car.
A stiff sea breeze caught my hair as I exited my car and walked toward the fence separating the parking area from the docks. Rust clung to the metal chain links. A few yards away, I found an opened gate and made my way to the piers.
Blue reflective signs marked each pier. Some piers were used for shipping, others for fishing or boat docks. Far ahead, a row of restaurants took up the rest of the space. Pier thirteen sat a short distance from the parking area. As I walked toward it, I passed a couple of men in hardhats, but they mostly ignored me. The stiff breeze smelled of fish, and I tasted salt on my tongue.
Pier thirteen was a worn wooden dock that jutted out into Galveston Bay. My footsteps thudded against the boards as I made my way to the pier’s end, where blue and orange barnacles grew along the edges. The water splashed against the thick beams supporting the jetty. A few streetlamps had been built along the pier, though I noticed that each light had been busted out. Strange.
Both Chester and Miranda had noted how dark the pier was. I knew of a few things that could bust out those lights—the most obvious being a shotgun—but it would have been much quieter and precise if someone had used a basita. But why shoot out the lights? Was someone trying to hide something?
When I made it to the end of the dock, I spotted a whirlpool churning slowly in the water just off the pier’s edge. It was a small disturbance and would have seemed commonplace had I not felt the magic emanating from its depths. In the center of the whirlpool, the water turned dark gray, as opposed to the brown water swirling around it. Odd. I knelt to get a better look.
Holding my hand over the whirlpool, I let my mind relax and concentrated on the magic. I’d felt it before, so it was easy to place. As I’d suspected, the grayish water wasn’t the result of natural causes, but was the side effect of magic—goblin magic.
Miranda’s story of seeing something moving in the water came to mind, but it would have been too dark for her to have noticed the whirlpool. What was its purpose?
Scanning the dock, I searched for any other clues to Mochazon’s disappearance but found nothing, so I kept my focus on the whirlpool. I wasn’t very familiar with goblin enchantments. Could it have been a trap? Did someone summon the whirlpool to kill Mochazon? It didn’t seem likely. The goblins wanted the blossom, and killing Mochazon would have been counterintuitive. Then what else could it be?
The waves calmed for a moment, making the water’s surface look mirror-like.
A mirror.
Could it be a portal?
Water was a reflective surface, and all practitioners knew that any reflective surface could be used as a gateway. If it were a gateway, where did it lead?
I knew of only one way to determine the truth. I would have to go through the portal to find out.