Page 55 of The Witches Catalogue of Wanderlust Essentials (Natural Magic #2)

Chapter 31

The Train, Part Two

B urnside and Zani hovered over the train, tracing its course through the forest, and discussing the best way for her to accomplish the task.

As she watched herself and Cosimo at the train station, she reflected on how much her life had changed since coming to Primrose Court. The Zani she was seeing was rosy-cheeked and fresh from adventure. But the way she was staring up at that vampire was foolish, almost childish. She could see that now. She was only glad that Will wasn’t here to see it. Because it certainly wasn’t how she felt now.

Zani could hardly remember what she had been thinking. She recalled she had wanted him to kiss her. But now when she closed her eyes and pictured kissing someone, the only face that came to mind was Will.

She watched as Cosimo kissed her on the forehead and bid her farewell. Once more, she watched him seem to disappear. But from this vantage point, she could see he hadn’t gone far. He’d been hiding in the shadows, watching as she boarded the train. Cosimo had even stood on the platform watching the train depart, his expression concerned.

Where had he gone from there? Straight to Catalina?

“We could port down to the train at any time now, but the less time we spend, the better.” Burnside warned. “We mustn’t disturb anything. We can’t change what happened.”

“I couldn’t if I tried,” Zani shrugged. “My wards are still working.”

How relieved she was to know that her wards weren’t compromised. A stranger hadn’t bested her magic after all. Her warding skills were powerful and intact. If only she’d had more self-confidence, she would have reached this conclusion sooner. Nobody else could have found a way into her expertly protected train case. Only she could have undone it herself.

“What do you recall of the trip? Moment by moment, if necessary.” Burnside stood beside the airship’s control panel, one hand on a dial that resembled a sundial, the other on a nautical wheel. Embedded at the center of the wheel was a blue compass with strange alchemical symbols. It spun continuously as the airship followed along invisibly behind the train.

“There was a moment,” Zani remembered, “when we traveled through a storm. The lights flickered, and I saw a strange reflection.”

“What did you see in the reflection?” Burnside asked.

“I saw myself, actually!” Zani clapped her hands together, remembering. “But the reflection was strange. My hair was longer, wind tossed and wild.”

“Have you had a look in the mirror recently?” Burnside laughed, but it came out more like a hacking cough. When he went to take a sip from his flask, it was empty.

“Here, let me…” Zani took the flask and crossed to the bar. “Which one?” She pointed to the crystal decanters. Burnside pointed to a short round bottle. It was nearly empty. There was only enough of the purple viscous liquid to fill his flask halfway. The concoction smelled like whiskey, but clearly had more magic than the basic spirit alone.

“Drink…” She passed him the flask, and then poured a glass of water as well for good measure.

“We must be precise,” Burnside said once his coughing fit had subsided.

“And we have little time to plan,” Zani lamented. The clouds were already gathering. “It must have happened during the storm. Or it will happen during the storm. I don’t even know how to talk about time with you, Burnside.”

“Welcome to my world.” The old man smiled. “Let’s just say ‘it happens when the storm comes.’”

“Right, so we will know it’s time to port down to the train when the storm comes.”

“If only we had a way to freeze time. Slip in through a crack. But I’m afraid that’s beyond my abilities.” Burnside sipped a bit of the water and made a face. He added some of his porting juice to the glass and seemed more satisfied.

“Shouldn’t you eat something?” Zani asked.

“No, dear, I’m fine.” He shook his head. He coughed and drank again. He didn’t seem intoxicated, but Zani was concerned by how frequently the old man was slugging from his flask. It didn’t seem right. Burnside brushed a bit of dust off the steering console and Zani sneezed.

This jogged her memory.

“Burnside, what was that you said about freezing time just now?”

“It’s an interesting idea,” Burnside said. “But not one that I’ve ever been able to achieve. Porters are all about motion. We can go forward and backward, to and fro, but we’re hopeless at standing still, I’m afraid.”

“If only there were an invention that helped with that.” Zani grinned. “Something that gave you, say, two extra minutes to throw on some clothes so you don’t answer the door in your robe. Or just enough time to tidy up the kitchen sink before your fastidious relative comes for tea?”

“Yes! It would be so helpful!” Burnside enthused.

“I actually have something like that. Something for just such an occasion.” Zani reached into her bag, feeling around till she felt the small, furry clump of fuzz she was looking for. When she pinched off a piece, the lump squealed in protest. But Zani didn’t feel all that bad. She knew there was plenty more where that came from.

“Ta da!” She held out her hand, displaying the pinch of indeterminate gray fluff.

Burnside stared at the loose collection of hair, fragments, flakes, and particles in her hand dubiously. “You’re trying to tell me that a dust bunny has the ability to freeze time?”

“Dust bunny?” Zani laughed. “This is no ordinary dust bunny. I hope you know how hard its creators are to capture. I’m quite fortunate to have one living in here.” She patted her bag protectively.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What exactly is that stuff?” Burnside squinted at the gray blob.

“Nobody knows. That’s part of its mystery. The man who gave me my pet liminal told me it may produce fluff that contains cat dander, pollen, pizza crumbs, and laundry lint. It’s impossible to perfectly recreate the stuff in a lab or witch’s kitchen. It’s just one of those things that generates spontaneously in nature, and only in nature. Once you study liminals too closely, they disappear and show up somewhere else. It’s enough to drive you mad.”

“We’re talking about ordinary household dirt?” Burnside still looked like he still needed some convincing.

“No, Burnside.” Zani sighed. “What I’m holding onto here is a pinch of Liminal Lint. From a pet liminal. It’s not like normal dirt. This stuff is magical. It shows up ten seconds after you’ve just finished cleaning. It replenishes itself against all odds, even if you’re bald, have ten air filters, and don’t own a cat. Obviously, the only way it gets in and accumulates like it does is through some sort of cosmic crack in the timeline.”

“Some clever witch figured that out?” Burnside marveled. “Good on her!”

Zani just shrugged.

“If you know the right incantation, and sprinkle a pinch on your own head, you can use it to buy a few minutes to straighten things up. The trick,” Zani pointed out, “is not sneezing.”

“That actually works?” Burnside was impressed. “For how long?”

“Not for very long, I’m afraid. The carny who gave it to me at the street fair said it can work for up to five minutes, but I’ve only ever gotten three from it in trials. That’s all we really need, though, right?”

“I don’t know. How quickly can you undo and redo the wards?” Burnside asked.

“Sixty seconds, tops,” Zani calculated. “I’ll need a minute and a half if I’m entering the cabin and opening the case. Two minutes tops, in, out, and heading to the next train car.” She considered Burnside for a moment and amended her guess. “Maybe three.”

“I can’t wait to see that!” Burnside rubbed his hands together.

“So what I propose is this …” Zani spelled out a more detailed plan to the porter. “We port into the car behind mine. I’ll wait till the lightning begins. That should give us just enough time to steal back the stone, retreat to the next car, and port back to the airship, no?

Burnside fiddled with the small ceramic key fob clipped to a belt loop. It was a miniature set of chimes, similar to the one he’d given Zani for her room. This set was decorated with beautifully faceted glass crystals instead of butterflies. It produced a sound that was like the larger version, only much quieter, like the chimes were blowing somewhere far away. She found the sound quite calming.

“That sounds like an excellent plan.” Burnside nodded his approval.

“It won’t be long now.” Zani pointed to the lightning that etched the sky up ahead.

“Then we’d better get ready.” Burnside pocketed the flask and hobbled toward the mirror. “Let’s do this.”

* * *

After several minutes of waiting, the storm came upon them suddenly.

“We need to go now!” Zani said as the crack of lightning and boom of thunder echoed around them, shaking the airship. She only hoped the ship would be all right in their absence. Burnside had assured her it would continue to follow along at a safe distance.

She’d waited until the absolute last minute to climb onto Burnside. She cringed as she felt his struggle to stand with the added burden of her attached to his back.

“Hang tight,” he rasped and together, they stepped into the mirror.

In her mind, since the train was traveling below, they should have been falling. But in porting reality, they simply stepped into the mirror and out into the tiny compartment between two train cars. The train rounded a bend as they arrived and Zani had to steady Burnside as the walls accordioned out and the floor joints beneath them pivoted to accommodate the turn.

“I’m just up there, the third compartment,” Zani said as they crept into the hall. Thunder continued to rumble outside the train car and the rain fell faster. She fished around in her bag and carefully harvested another pinch of Liminal Lint.

“This is it,” Zani said. She handed her satchel to Burnside for safekeeping. “Don’t move a muscle,” she joked.

“I’ll be right here whenever you need me.” Burnside removed the tiny set of chimes from his belt loop and clipped them to the satchel’s zipper. He then slid the satchel over his head and onto his body crossways.

For Burnside, and everyone else on the train, time would appear to march on as usual. It would only be frozen for her, thanks to the gift of her pet liminal. Zani paused for a minute, paying attention before she cast the spell. In the distance, she could hear the clink of china and the wheels of a dining cart being pushed between compartments as the conductor made deliveries.

“Good luck,” Burnside croaked. And then she sprinkled the lint on her head.

Liminal lint upon my crown, Between the ticking moments dwell.

Freeze the flowing stream of time until I bid this dust farewell.

At once, the train ceased swaying beneath her feet. The world went silent. Outside the windows, the rain was frozen. It clung to the windows in unmoving rivulets lit by the blue streak of lightning that was frozen in the sky.

Zani made her way through the empty corridor. She quickly slipped into her train compartment. She saw herself frozen in time, staring out the window. She’d been oblivious, her arms wrapped protectively around the warded case.

“I’m so sorry to do this to you,” she apologized to herself as she used her wand to undo the wards and release the locks. “This is going to make you crazy for the next several months. But the good news is that your wards didn’t fail you! It’s going to be such a relief when you figure that out!”

She reached into the case and carefully removed the bloodstone amulet. The large stone was cold in her hand. Even as everything else was so eerily still, the stone seemed to beat—pumping like a human heart. It cast odd, blue, watery shadows on the windows and walls.

Zani knew she didn’t have time to dither. She recreated the wards, then she located her satchel on the seat beside herself and stuffed the stone deep, deep inside, into that one inner hidden pocket that she was always forgetting about when she went to clean out the bag. The stale piece of gum and a subway ticket from four years ago that were still languishing there bore witness to that fact.

As she spun to slip out the door, she caught a glimpse of herself. She wasn’t at all surprised by the reflection in the window this time. Her wild hair was floating, and her face was pale.

Quickly, before the Liminal Lint enchantment wore off, she exited the compartment. Outside in the hallway, Burnside was still frozen, holding her bag, fingers on the chimes which she could almost hear starting to chime in the distance.

She knew the spell was breaking because a single rivulet of rain began to trail down the window. The floor vibrated and the lightning bolt that split the sky branched out in slow motion. She broke into a run.

“Time to go!” Zani linked her arm with Burnside’s, dragging him back toward the space between cars. By the time they reached the doorway, they were hurtling forward once more, back into real time.

“We did it!” Zani exclaimed, taking the bag back from Burnside. She reached inside and felt the stone in the hidden pocket. “I can’t believe it was here all along.”

“I suspected as much the minute Will told me about the time slip,” Burnside confessed. “There’s always a catalyst. ‘Residue’ was a long shot. At best, it might have caused a single slip of a moment or two.”

“But you couldn’t just tell me…” Zani looked into Burnside’s wise old eyes.

“No,” he agreed. “You had to be ready. And you had to figure it out yourself.”

“Thank you.” Zani’s eyes teared up. There was so much more she wanted to say, but she didn’t think they had the time. It was time for them to go.

“Will you take it to Catalina and give it back to Ondalune now?” Zani asked. She reached back inside the bag, intending to pull the amulet out and hand it to him.

He gave her an odd look and shook his head sadly. Then he held his hand up to halt her.

“I’m sorry. I assumed…” Zani hesitated. “Is she … is she no longer alive?”

“She is alive, and quite well.” Burnside corrected her. “And I’ve told her to expect you. ”

“Me?” Zani asked, confused. “Why would I bring the stone to her? She’s your niece. You’ve been watching over her all this time!”

“Because, my dear.” Burnside touched her cheek tenderly. “The bloodstone amulet is tangled in your family history as well now, and we both have a chance to make things right.”

Suddenly, with a massive jerk and a screech of brakes, the train juddered to a halt.

“I’m afraid this is my last trip,” Burnside said, squeezing Zani’s hand. “I’m out of time.”

The wall behind him rippled like the surface of a pond. Zani watched, horrified, as he dipped his left leg in. She clung to his hand.

“But where will you go?” She felt tears welling up.

“I’d like to think there’s a Monte Cristo sandwich waiting for me on the other side of this port.” Burnside smiled mysteriously as he slid his left arm and shoulder into the rippling wall.

“Don’t go, Burnside!” Zani begged. “Please don’t leave me here alone.”

“Don’t worry. Will should be along any time now.” Burnside’s eyes were taking on an otherworldly cast, as if he was looking at something that he could see and she could not. His smile grew wider as she felt him slipping something into the palm of her hand that was still grasping his. It was the key fob with the charms. She saw now that there was also a small, shiny airship-shaped key attached as well as what looked like a dog whistle. “The dirigible won’t be far. You can summon it with the whistle. Don’t worry, I left all the papers and the manual with Will.”

She struggled to hold on to him, but his fingers were growing slippery, and somehow less solid. He stepped back another step and his other leg and chest disappeared. Only his face remained.

“Farewell, Zani. Please tell Minodaura I’m sorry. There’s a slight chance she might…”

But he didn’t get to finish what he was saying as he slipped through the wall.

By the time she felt the welcome pressure of Will’s familiar hand on her shoulder, all she could see was Burnside’s goofy smile, and even that was fading fast.

“Farewell, Porter.” Will saluted.

And then he wrapped his arms around her.