Strange Aeons [Book 1]

8. Scry me a River [part II]

It was another glorious day. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and they had absolutely no idea how to retrieve the information they needed. The Lions were clearly on their tails, while Staccato seemed nowhere to be found. Banshee had poked here and there with her little circle of worker friends at the Order, but it all accounted for nothing, in the end. Nobody knew anything about the small, black-hooded Mage.

Banshee and Chico were around the breakfast table. The clock chimed noon, and they both munched unenthusiastically on their Cheerio's, one with beer and one with tequila.

Banshee was going to comment on the perfect pairing between the sweet honey of Cheerio's and the bitter sparkling of beer, when the room abruptly shook. It was a violent vibration.

The Mexican and the Irish looked into each other's eyes with the same, immediate look of sudden worry.

«Aw Jesus wept, not again...» she whispered.

They remained silent. One second. Ten seconds. Twenty seconds. Their hands started to relax.

Then the blender started to sound like an air raid siren from WWII and to emit an intermittent red light. Chico hid his face in his hands, Banshee threw back her head to point her eyes at the ceiling.

«...again.» stated Chico, after a long groan.

The fridge's door opened, and Vopros marched out, as serene as if it was something normal to do. He closed it behind himself. Then he looked at his companions. Turned on himself to look at the fridge. Opened it again and entered in it, closing the door behind himself. In a matter of seconds, he emerged from the bathroom. Looked at his companions. Looked at the bathroom door.

Banshee and Chico were simply sitting there, incapable of anything, even thinking.

Vopros looked at them for the third time, clasping his hands behind his back.

«We have problem.» he sentenced, in a peaceful matter-of-factly way.

«We noticed.» was Chico's calm answer.

«Well, it could be worse, couldn't it? What's it this time exactly?» asked Banshee.

«I think I warped space. You enter door, you exit another door, but not right one.» summarized Vopros, after his brief experience. «I botched smartphone hack ritual. It could been worse.» he confirmed Banshee's words, and along the spines of the two other mages ran a deep, chilling shiver. They always preferred not to think about the many times they risked blowing up because Vopros was building mysterious, and often explosive, contraptions downstairs, in his off-limits garage.

«So, the doors don't match with the rooms anymore?» asked Chico, standing up and walking towards the door of his and Banshee's room. He entered it and found himself on the landing outside their main door. Scratching his head, he knocked. Banshee opened the main door, but she opened on the kitchen cabinet.

With a groan, they started opening everything in the house that could be classified as "door". Apparently, the main door was connected with the kitchen cabinets over the sink. It took five attempts and Vopros ending up in the garden before they could let Chico into the house again.

«This is plain ridiculo!» he blurted, as soon as they found themselves all together in the living room. «We can't live like this!»

«And yet, we will.» sighed Banshee.

«And why would we? We suddenly great fans of puzzles?» asked Chico, ironic.

«The only way we're getting out of this situation is by dispelling the botch. And are ye really, really sure ye want our Enforcer to have something else to reproach us about?» she answered readily, looking at him almost with a challenge in her voice. «You know that, theoretically, we shouldn't make complex rituals in buildings with civilians. We never really gave a fuck, and neither did he, but this is not the time to push our luck.»