𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 ━ 𝐬. 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞

━━ . SEVEN

Stephen's eyes lingered on Katherine's door long after she had entered and was sound asleep. For reasons he did not know, he found himself battling conflicting feelings for this mundane woman; but there was nothing mundane about Katherine Grier.

He knew that if he sensed her natural magical prowess and the fluctuations of them that came with the faintest change in her emotions, other beings across the multiverse would have as well.

Perhaps, fate had indeed brought the two of them together—after all, in this practice he had discovered that nothing was by chance or by coincidence. Again, he found himself tip-toeing around this new found curiosity—attraction—to her. However, whether her presence would be a servant of good will or a harbinger of darkness was yet to be determined.

It was the sound of a loud thud and cursing echoing down the hall, that snapped Stephen from his thoughts. He was immediately instantly and it were some inter-dimensional intruder in search of something within the Sanctum, he would be sure they regretted stepping foot into this universe. Much to his dismay, however, he was greeted by a familiar petite frame dragging something up the stairs that was clearly too heavy for them carry.

Stephen watched as Zelma glanced at him, glasses sliding lightly down the bridge of her nose.  She was lean as an alley cat, equally quick and graceful in her motions; brown-skinned, white-toothed and clear-eyed. He made a slight motion with his hands and a golden light enveloped the object, which caused the young woman to roll her eyes.

"Please be careful with that." Zelma snapped and he playfully pretended to drop the item, which caused the woman to glare.

"I didn't know you would be back so soon," He said and she clicked her teeth in response, adjusting her glasses. "Where do you want me to put...well, whatever this is?"

The Sorcerer knew it had been of arcane origin, since Zelma had decided to take up the responsibility of retrieving the ones scattered in this realm, but he did not recall reading about one of this gargantuan size.

"Apparently, it's the Iris of Ymir," Zelma grinned. "Found it tucked away in some antique shop in Burbank."

Stephen nodded, gestured his hands upward, levitating the sacred item in the air with ease. In his mind, he began an incantation that sucked the very air out of the room they were in. Zelma muttered the rest under her breath, clasping her hands together. Electricity danced in the spaces between molecules and a single splice in reality's threads opened before them. Zelma made another careful gesture with her hands and the slit grew taller and wider.

Strange guided the artifact through the space and into the Vault; he made sure to be careful as he placed it on a mantle in the center of the room. This was the place they put the much larger, dangerous artifacts. It existed in a pocket dimension of completely of Strange's own design and it required his half of the incantation to access it; something that was known only to him.

He returned back to the third floor of the Sanctum with haste and just as she had parted a path between time and space, Zelma closed it with a light clasp of her hands.

"I suppose you'll be on your way, then?" Stephen questioned and Zelma shrugged.

"I think I may stick around for a bit," She adjusted her glasses. "There's a few items I haven't been able to track down and I figure maybe they'll be some hints in some of the literature here or in Kamar-Taj."

Strange stroked at his chin. "I have a small favor to ask if that's the case."

"Is it regarding the new house guest?" Zelma leaned against the railing of the stairs and eyed him suspiciously.