Chapter 22

            Keeping the unconscious Sergeant Murphy hidden turned out to be simpler than Vince had feared. Bayla had mentioned how her Aqua Armor made fine camouflage; if she focused, she could wrap it around the sheriff and make him mostly transparent while they hauled him to a parking lot about a half mile from the wharf. Even with him hidden, they still went the long way.

            “We might stand out too much,” said Vince, taking in his companions as they trudged through the slick, uneven stones. Bayla’s hand on the invisible sheriff helped steady the load. Vince had feared that his strength might fail him again, but it still felt like carrying his bookbag to school. “I look like I’m carrying nothing, and Nanora’s still dressed like it’s Halloween.”

            “That is a bit suspicious,” conceded Nanora, biting her lip nervously. “I suppose there is no harm in letting you see the real me, since you are not the monster I thought you were.” A wave of her jeweled staff sent it and her Ivory Witch uniform to God-knew-where, revealing…

            “The woman from the book shop!” shouted Bayla. Vince jumped at noise, nearly losing his grip on Murphy. Bayla lost focus, and he flickered back into view for a moment before she regained control of her Aqua Armor.

            Vince goggled at her. “Wait, seriously? Nanora is Nora?” He paused. “Seems kinda obvious now that I say it out loud.”

            “You are not to blame,” said Nanora, patting him on the arm in a way that seemed a little condescending. “My golden mask makes it magically impossible for anyone to recognize me unless I will it. Though, you very nearly saw through it back at the store.”

            “Did I?” asked Vince. “I thought you seemed familiar…”

            “I have been wondering; you keep saying you don’t have any magic, but your blade had a signature. What’s really going on?”

            Vince frowned. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about, sorry. Everything magical I’ve run into is because of Bayla, and I just met her yesterday.”

            “I think we were connected even before I anointed you as my champion,” said Bayla. “I found him less bothersome than the fishermen I met before.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me your real name?” asked Vince. “It kinda hurt that I learned it from the shark, Wakerider.”

“W-well,” she said, “I could not be certain. I was being hunted, after all. Besides, I did not think I would stay long.”

“You chose the name Bayla?” asked Nanora, sounding horrified. “Why did you do that?”

“Is there a problem? It is what the fishermen called me when I drove fish to their nets.” She straightened up proudly. “Bayla, Bayla, they would call. I thought it had a lovely sound.”

“It’s their word for whale,” she replied. “It seems a bit demeaning.”

“Oh,” said Bayla, deflating a bit. “Well, you two may still use it, if only because there are enemies about.”

“I see,” said Vince. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Bayla Wakerider.”

When they arrived at the scenic outlook and the small parking lot, Bayla complained about the strain on her mana reserves from hiding Murphy. They found a nearby stand of birch and propped up the unconscious officer while Vince went for help.

The hardest part of the scheme had been finding a payphone once they arrived at the scenic lookout. There still was one, which Vince chalked up to being owed a little good luck. Thankfully, one of Ava Meyer’s rules she had passed down to her son was to always carry a few dollars in quarters.

Ma always seems paranoid until she has a point.

She said not to trust women from out of town, too. Had a point there. He looked back towards the tree, watching the two girls chat. Ah, well. In too deep now.

Vince frowned at Sergeant Murphy when he returned from his call. The officer was still slumped against the tree trunk. “Is he still alive?”

“So it seems,” said Bayla, sounding extremely unconcerned. “You are surprisingly adept with that staff, Nanora.”

She sighed. “It was not my first choice, but he is much less bothersome when he’s asleep,” said Nanora.

“Yeah,” said Vince, not sure what else to say.

It was an awkward silence; Vince had a few choice words for Bayla that he did not want to hash out in front of Nanora.

“So uh,” stammered Vince, “Nora—”

“I prefer Nanora when it is the three of us.”

Boy, she’s picky about her name. “Nanora, then. You mentioned something about a Veil? What’s that about?”

“I was wondering that myself,” said Bayla without looking Nanora’s way. She had appointed herself as Murphy’s guard, so she stayed hunkered in front of him.

Nanora looked at Bayla like she had grown another head. “Are you being serious?”

“Of course,” said Bayla. “This is hardly the time to joke.”

The witch frowned. “I suppose not. But, Princess Wakerider, if you do not know about the Veil, where do you think you are right now?”

Bayla spared Nanora a confused look. “Avalas, though you are making me doubt it. It sounds like I am far to the south of the Kelp Forest. It was stormy when those hunters tried to capture me, and then I remember waking up on the beach where Vince found me. I must have been washed away; I was fortunate not to drown.”

“That doesn’t seem right,” said Vince. “There wasn’t any sign of waves that could have stranded you that far inland.”

“Because there were none,” said Nanora. “Vince, Princess Wakerider and I are not from this world. We come from another plane of existence called Avalas. It is a world made of the lost and forgotten castoffs of this one. There are places that the Veil is weaker than others, like Fin Island, and all sorts of creatures and items cross through. They tend to fall towards Avalas more often, though.”

Vince scratched at his chin thoughtfully. “Is it like a parallel universe? That explains a few things that weren’t adding up. Just as well Bayla didn’t swim away, then.”

“To put it mildly,” replied Nanora. “You are taking this surprisingly well.”

He shrugged. “Honestly, I’ve been reading books about parallel worlds since I was a kid. There’s even some science saying it’s possible. Everything you two do is way stranger. Like, you keep completely ignoring conservation of mass.”

“Wait a moment!” Bayla stood, her brow furrowed as she fully absorbed Nanora’s words. “You thought I knew about this Veil business?”

“Well, the Prismatic Witches do keep the gates a secret, but I was sure that you at least had some hint of this world’s existence.”

“No, this is all new to me,” said Bayla, a look of horror crossing her face. “By God, I might have swum north until I hit ice, trying to find the Kelp Forest.”

Nanora smiled at Bayla. “Then He guided you to Vince, who has kept you safe. See? Things work out in the end.”

Vince scowled for a moment. If only she had decided to like me earlier.

Nanora continued. “Princess Wakerider, I think you must have had some hint. Most of the cultures of Avalas tell a story about a great journey to arrive at their homes, or a founder who lost their way and made a new home,” said Nanora. “Are the blackfish different?”

“The First Mother,” Bayla muttered to herself without further explanation. “If I am not in Avalas right now, where am I?”

“It is Earth in the local language,” said Nanora. “A land bereft of magic.”

“That is completely untrue,” said Bayla. “There are the glass screens that make sound and images, the sound amplifiers, and the printed books you sell. Even that ‘phone booth’ let Vince cast his voice many miles away.”

“It seemed like magic to me at first, too,” said Nanora with a giggle. “But the down-planers are only primitives with very advanced tools.”

“Excuse me?” demanded Vince.

Nanora covered her mouth shyly. “I do not mean it in a bad way; it is simply a fact. You do very well for yourselves, considering.”

Before Vince could take further offense, a white van labeled Perez & Son pulled up.

“We’ll talk about this later,” he said. “Our ride just arrived.”

“Oh no, him?” whined Nanora. She held up her hand, her off-white jeans and halter top lengthening to cover up more of her olive skin.

Not a bad idea with Luis involved. “He doesn’t like authority and I trust him to keep things secret,” said Vince. “He’s the perfect choice.”

“Luisperez is harmless enough,” said Bayla. “It is that tame wolf that is a terror!”

Nanora gasped. “You cannot mean Rufus! He is such a sweetie. Proof that not all dogs take after their owners.”

“Don’t they?” asked Bayla. “Rufus has no respect for boundaries; he jumped on me and assaulted me with his tongue.”

“That’s how you know he’s a sweetie,” said Nora, adding a cheerful giggle. “He only wants to be your friend.”

“Rufus doesn’t matter right now,” said Vince. “Bayla, the last time Luis saw you, you were way shorter. Can you do anything about that?”

Bayla scoffed, the noise carrying a hint of whale song with it. “I only just fixed myself and now you want me to change back!”

“We primitives don’t understand magic,” he said with just a touch of bitterness. “Can you explain to Luis how an ordinary Landmaiden grew six inches overnight? Let’s make him think we just knocked out a cop, and leave the magic out of it.”

Bayla let out a long sigh, carrying another sad note from her true voice. “Very well. I will, for now.” She closed her eyes.

Nanora’s grey eyes widened. “Wait, stop!”

Bayla completely ignored her. “You will need to distract him for a few minutes; this was a difficult process last—”

A flash of golden light blinded Vince for a moment, and when his eyes cleared, Bayla was back to her original human appearance.

“… time.” Bayla’s dark eyes bulged as she found herself looking up at Vince and Nanora again. “What nonsense is this? I nearly drowned trying to leave this tiny body, and now changing again was trivial!”

“Is it experience?” offered Vince. “You’ve transformed four times now. It must get easier.”

“There is more to it than that,” said Nanora, scanning with the smaller crystal again. “Princess, you are extremely lucky! You should not be able to transform so frequently at all without serious injury; this seems to be your default form now. If we can get you back to my room, I can study if further, but your morphic field has been completely corrupted by some sort of magical interference. You are lucky to still be in one piece.”

“Lucky?” scoffed Bayla. “You make it sound like I really am a Landmaiden now!”

Nanora sucked on her cheek for a moment. “From a morphic perspective? You are.”

Bayla staggered back as though she had been struck. “No.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out,” said Vince. “For now, we have a van to catch.” And some explaining to do…

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            The scent of blood filled the sea around him, but Marazza took no joy in it. My blood is not good blood. Not tasty.

            The orca and her companions did not notice him tailing them down the beach from a careful distance. He considered transforming back to being a full shark to make the journey easier, but he decided against it. If the whale and her guardians showed any weakness, Marazza wanted to be ready to strike them on land. They had dealt with the interloper, but the orca herself had legs again. She will be troublesome to fight, especially since I am not allowed to slay her.

            Unfortunately, his quarry went inland. He did not pursue. They were in better shape than him; he was not immune to pain, and the beaks and claws of the witch’s summons had done a number on the shark. To say nothing of the Landman’s enchanted armor. Still, I cannot fail. The master said not to come back until I had the orca, so I will figure this out myself.

As he turned to swim away, he caught a whiff of something interesting. His electrical senses told him a school of dogfish were following him from a respectful distance; the smaller sharks must have thought Marazza was a possible meal. An ordinary tiger shark bleeding so profusely might well have been.

            Marazza was not ordinary, though. The magic of Avalas and his master had both seen to that. His numerous wounds had nearly sealed shut, but hunger gnawed at him. Even magical healing needed energy and nutrients to work with.

            Normally, Marazza would not have wasted his time on the salmon-sized sharks. However, food was food, even if it was not a good hunt. A few strokes of his mighty arms had him in the midst of the swarm of snacks. He was still missing teeth, but he had more than enough to deal with these bottom feeders.

            When Marazza was back to his senses, the sea around him was filled with a red haze and the less appetizing bits of dogfish. Not a good hunt, but good blood. Tasty blood. The blood of that Landman and the witch will be tastier, though. 

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