Will felt the weight of her faith in him much more than the weight of her body. “We don’t have to–” He barely got a word in before she had her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms crossed tight across his chest.
He was nearly past the point of turning back. Already the light was spilling from the center of an old faded painting of the seaside in summer. The couples strolling on the boardwalk melted away as the portal opened.
Zani’s lips were close as she spoke directly into his ear. “You will not talk me out of this, Will. And you don’t need to tell me again how risky this is. I think you’re forgetting that risk assessment is what I’m best at. I’ve cast the wards, and you know what you are doing. I trust you. I know we can do this. I can feel it. Can’t you? Now let’s do this experiment. Take me back to the Mudpuddle of two years ago. ”
“Close your eyes,” Will warned, as he always did. He wasn’t sure he trusted her to listen.
And then he had no choice but to go. The pull of the nothing was too strong. He had to step into it.
Will tried to focus on his balance, sticking to the ley lines he could sense, but they were oddly unstable. Even more so than the last time he’d ported with Zani. The lines kept shifting and dodging his steps, only to glint teasingly in the distance like sunlight on water.
Zani’s close presence on top of him wasn’t helping him focus. She smelled like cinnamon and cloves. The sensation of her pressed so close against his back made his concentration scatter like startled pigeons. When he glanced down at her arms, he was surprised to see they were emitting their own low level glow. Her skin shimmered as if coated with a fine layer of dust. At first, he thought it came from the bookshelf. Then he realized it was something else entirely. He recognized the pale blue light of the stones and the stars. It was not only upon her, but all around her. And it was affecting the ley lines accordingly.
Will closed his eyes, picturing a particular Tuesday two years ago. Nothing special. He’d stopped by the Mudpuddle to buy a last-minute Ostara gift for Maida. The store had been bustling with customers. So busy they wouldn’t have noticed a porter arriving from the future. He aimed for the mudroom, picturing it clearly as he slid forward with greater and greater speed. The ley lines were gathering now, lifting him and plunging him into the past, far too quickly for his liking.
If he didn’t slow down, and fast, he was going to crash.
He felt Zani shift on his back, gripping tighter. “You got this!” she shouted, even as he crashed through the mudroom wall with her, and kept going. They slid straight into a second portal that opened only seconds before they made impact with the Mudpuddle’s brick outer wall.
Will didn’t even attempt to take a step forward this time. They were still being carried forward by momentum. It was slower now, but fast enough that he didn’t need to help their progress. The lines felt thicker now, almost cabled. And they bounced like a tightrope. Will felt his toes curl, as if he could cling to the ley lines with his feet.
He pictured the cafe more recently. A Thursday night, just a few months before the Mudpuddle disappeared. That seemed to work, although he missed the mudroom entirely.
This time they came tumbling through the massive fireplace in the foyer, which, thankfully, was not lit.
From here, they could see the main area of the bookshop and cafe where groups of teenagers were gathered round the tables. They were talking animatedly and rolling multi-colored handfuls of dice. Will recognized Rosie Hart’s laugh.
He glanced up at Papa Lathrop’s clock on the mantle, seeking confirmation of the date and time. Zani’s grip loosened, and she slid to her feet.
“Did we do it?” she asked.
“It’s only six months ago,” Will whispered. He ran a hand across her arm, relieved to see her skin had returned to its normal hue. “Don’t do anything suspicious.”
“Such as?” Zani twisted her hair into a metal clip and took a step away from Will.
“Will Porter!” Minerva Lathrop was striding into the foyer from the hall. “I haven’t seen you in an age. To what do we owe this surprise? And who’s this you have with you?
“Hi there! I’m Esmeralde Winkle,” Zani deadpanned. Her midwestern accent was spot on. She stuck out a hand. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am. Will was just telling me you have the finest collection of blank grimoires here.”
“Mmm… so we do.” Minerva glanced right through Zani, and stared distractedly at the cafe. “If you don’t mind excusing me, though, I’ve got to adjust the temperature of the cheese fridge. I’m afraid my brie isn’t aging optimally.”
And just like that, she was gone. Will let out the breath he’d been holding as he turned back to Zani. “You could have warned me you planned to use a glamor.”
“Not a glamor!” Zani corrected. “Glamors make you look like someone else. This is the work of a Nip Clip.” She patted the claw clip in her hair.
“Dare I ask the difference?” Will looked at her quizzically. He was glad that Zani still looked like Zani to him, at least.
“Nip stands for ‘No one In Particular.’ Much simpler and less memorable than a specific glamor. Plus, it requires less energy to cast, which makes the spell longer lasting.”
“Of course.” Will smiled. “Whatever will you think of next,Esmeralda?” Will reached out a hand to guide Zani toward the cafe. He was surprised to see the filament still spooling out behind her. It was growing taut.
“I think I require sustenance now.” Will said. “I’ll order a few things to go. You can either come with me, or meet me back in the metaphysics stacks.”
“I’ll see you there,” Zani replied. “You know how they say you only get one chance to make a first impression? I don’t want to push my luck.”
—
It didn’t take long for Will to procure some cheese sandwiches and cookies.
