knowledge and he had no trouble finding it. Just as Penumbra had said, there were gawdy neon signs everywhere. It reminded him of a bygone days marketing technique of placing road signs every quarter mile touting an establishment just ahead with food, gas, homemade candy, etc.
When he arrived at Shelejiah’s door, there was a fuchsia pink neon sign that read Next Available Appointment in seven days. Leave your name in the basket.
He glanced at the basket before he began knocking on the door. He’d try the polite approach first, but would storm the place if necessary.
After protracted, and undoubtedly annoying knocking, she jerked the door open and stood glaring, one hand on the door latch, one hand on a hip. He hadn’t known what to expect, but hadn’t been thinking she’d be quite that hideous.
“You’d better have a really good reason for disturbing the peace.” She looked him up and down, assessing. “Demon.”
“I do. Missing person.”
She scoffed. “That’s not a good reason. What do I care?”
She started to close the door, but he stopped it.
“A demon named Quicksilver came to see you. You helped him.”
It was clear that got her interest. “Quicksilver? This about a female demon?”
“Yes.”
She told the client whose session had been interrupted to get out. After a mild protest and brief skirmish, the unfortunate patron was ousted and Lyric was sitting at the little ice cream table.
It didn’t take long for Lyric and Shelejiah to compare notes.
“He took her to the Thracian clouds.”
“Thracian clouds.” Lyric repeated. “That’s not real, is it?”
She raised an eyebrow, which caused the eye underneath to reshape itself in a way that was even less attractive than before. “No,” she said, words and manner oozing sarcasm. “He took her to a place that doesn’t exist.”
Normally Lyric wouldn’t stand for disrespect from a being he considered beneath him, but he decided restraint was the prudent choice. So he said nothing.
“Thinks he has a wristband that that will let him out.” She laughed darkly. “It would have if it had been treated with the magics. But he left without paying for the add-on. It’s just a bracelet.”
“You have something that will let me in and out?” As he said it, he couldn’t help but think about ‘Hotel California’.
You can check in anytime you like. But you can never leave!
He shuddered, but gave himself an internal shake. Now was no time for weak knees. He wouldn’t know if the sorceress was being true until either the plan worked or he learned that he’d been suckered. The hag had just confessed to tricking Shivaun’s captor. So there was no doubt that deceit was a ready, and probably common, tool in her kit.
As if she was reading his mind, she said, “Don’t worry. It’s the real deal.”
He wished that reassurance was enough to make him feel good about the whole thing.
“The stuff doesn’t keep. Has to be made fresh.” She waddled over to the giant trough that ran the length of the room, picking up this and that as she went. When everything needed was gathered, she stopped in front of one of the firehose sized faucets. She bent down, turned around, and gave him a wink. Then said, “I’m gonna mix it up right here in the sink.”
He blinked twice and thought, That did not just happen.
As he looked around the sorceress’s very eclectic workspace, he said, “I can go into the Thracian clouds and get Shivaun, but doesn’t she need one of those to get out with me?”
“Already ahead of you, Bud. Got enough for two right here.”
“It’s a shame there’s no way to punish Quicksilver for this,” he mused out loud as he waited.
Shelejiah went stock still. “Well,” she said, resuming her work without turning around. “You could leave him in the Thracian clouds. It could be a really, really, really long time before he finds a way out.” She glanced up into one of the tall trees that grew inside her greenhouse. “Or. I could use a new bird.”
Lyric grinned. “Which is worse?”
Her responding grin matched the malice of his. “Let me ask you a question.”
“Alright,” he said guardedly, not liking the shift in tone.
“If the only way to release the female from the Thracian clouds was for you to take the place of my current familiar,” she pointed to the bird sitting on his perch, “in raven form, for an indeterminate time, would you agree? Willingly?”
Lyric’s solar plexus seized and turned to stone at the same time his mouth went dry. He tried