Cords of Fate

By James Winterthorn

**CORDS OF FATE**: In this enchanting tale, meet Tink, a young man adrift in life but dedicated to safeguarding a hidden mountain orphanage, lovingly overseen by the woman who raised both him and his wayward brother. Within these walls reside children with remarkable, otherworldly abilities, their destinies irrevocably intertwined with Tink's.

Tink's unique gift allows him to move through frozen time, granting him unparalleled speed. Since childhood, he's used this power humbly, to craft extraordinary charms sought after by local esoteric shops and individual buyers. Yet, his true purpose lies in rescuing children from perilous situations.

The latest child he aids harbors a secret that threatens to unravel not only Tink's existence but also the very fabric of reality itself. As forces from the child's past and Tink's unwavering determination converge, he must tread the fine line between darkness and light to unearth a long-hidden magic.

Can Tink safeguard the lives of those he holds dear without succumbing to the darkness that has beckoned to him since childhood? Dive into 'CORDS OF FATE,' where the fate of worlds hangs in the balance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jun 24, 2024
• ISBN: 9798350925678

James Winterthorn

Sara's passion for editing a diverse array of genre fiction for the last fifteen years has instilled in her a well-balanced approach of both analytical and creative editing. Fueled by too much caffeine, she will relentlessly pursue excellence to ensure the writer's content is impeccable. She loves to think outside the box and frequently offers customized or hybrid solutions in order to meet each individual project's needs.

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Cover of Cords of Fate by James Winterthorn

© 2023 James Winterthorn. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

ISBN: 979-8-35092-566-1 paperback

ISBN: 979-8-35092-567-8 ebook

To Katherine, for being my greatest supporter and source of strength. Everything we have is my greatest joy.

To Chad, for being an endless source of inspiration.

Your light burned the brightest.

Contents

Part One

1 Paying Debts

2 Ren

3 The Old Lady

4 Cords

5 David

6 Denny

7 The Deal

8 Liam

9 The Chamber

10 Yarrow’s Cards

11 A Charm

12 Expanse

13 A Date

14 Twelve Coins

15 The Orphanage

Part Two

16 Memory of Regret

17 Karma

18 The Center Light

19 The Twelve

20 Conduits

21 The Giver of Time

22 Her Host

23 Escape

24 Results

25 Broken

26 Possession

27 Return

28 Eula

29 The Enchanted

30 The Approaching Darkness

31 The Vessel and the Demon

Part Three

32 Their Suffering

33 Decisions

34 Louisiana

35 Spiritless

36 Exorcisms

37 Jack

38 Usurpers

39 Aftermath

40 Dead Plane

41 Awakened

42 Home

43 The Magician

44 Witness of Gods

45 All of the Pieces

46 Epilogue

Part One

Balance

Chapter 1

Paying Debts

For all of her features, Jennifer’s blue eyes stood out the most. Dark limbal rings surrounded azure irises with yellow inner discs that looked like burning suns in a clear afternoon sky.

My quickened pulse seemed distant. You’d think that after doing this enough, I would be ready for what comes next. I guess that even seasoned gamblers feel a rush of exhilaration when the cards are called. I could draw this experience out for a while longer, but it would only delay the inevitable.

She sat upright with her palms facing up and those stunning eyes staring ahead without any particular focus. I had placed a small table with a stack of cash before her. Four thousand dollars. I hoped that it would be enough. If it wasn’t, my gamble could go bad in the worst way. Beside the stack of cash was my ceremonial dagger, the athame.

We had broken into the abandoned warehouse just an hour ago. The place was empty except for pieces of rusted packing equipment and dust that never seemed to settle. These places were perfect for any anonymous activity. You would hope that someone would eventually find value in them, but too often they grew like cancers in impoverished neighborhoods.

I stared for a moment at her soft features and took a deep breath. I dabbed myrrh oil on my finger and drew a circle on her forehead, and I snapped my fingers three times. Her breath returned like she had been underwater and nearly drowned. She tried to speak, but her words were jumbled questions. I’m sure she intended to ask where she was and how she got there. In a few minutes, she would remember everything. I knew better than to wait for that moment.

Take a breath. My voice was weaker than I expected. I tried to sound more confident than I felt. Now, take another one. Her sun-fire eyes fixed on mine, settled down, then examined the dusty and dark warehouse. A new confusion and panic filled her. Try to remain calm. You’re going to be okay. No further harm will come to you.

Further harm? She found her voice. It was weak and a little broken. I could only imagine the possible scenarios running through her mind. Who are you? Where am I?

You’re in a warehouse on the South Side of Chicago. You’ll remember me in a few moments. I pulled up a chair opposite her and sat down. Right now, I need you to understand that you’re going to be okay. I waited for her to acknowledge me. She did with a stiff nod of her head and fresh tears. Good, now please be patient, and allow me to explain why we’re here.

I can’t move my hands. She tugged her wrists and ankles against the worn leather straps holding her to the chair.

I know. I will take care of that in a moment.

She nodded again. Her brow furrowed with skepticism. I smiled at her. She did not return it.

I owe you a debt. I have committed a terrible crime against you, Jennifer. Tears streaked her face.

Did you... She couldn’t finish the thought.

No, I haven’t harmed you physically. What I have done to you is a different kind of violation, I said softly. Those eyes darted frantically, looking for something surreal and imagined. Her memory would be scattered and fragmented for a while longer.

What did you do?

I have stolen three weeks of your life. I needed your help, and I didn’t see another way around it.

How… how could… how did you…?

What’s more important than how is why. Do you remember a child that you had removed from his home a few weeks ago? Denny, about seven years old?

Kind of…

Good. Denny suffers from a condition that he would not get proper care for had he gone through your system. A condition that I can help him with. I took custody of him to get him the treatment he needed. He’s safe and will be okay. Do you follow? She nodded. Good. Since I am no doctor and have no rights to his custody, I needed you to put together the documentation and sweet talk some officials to make it happen.

Condition? He’s a nonverbal autistic individual with support needs. He needs to go to a proper facility.

She was returning too quickly. I might have played this one wrong. If the entirety of her memory returned before her decision, this would get ugly.

Denny’s diagnosis is woefully incomplete. His self-expression is being suppressed. He is trapped inside of himself and stuck in a sort of feedback loop that will go critical if we don’t address it soon.

You kidnapped him. A look of disgust wrinkled her brow.

No, you helped me become his guardian. And now he will get the help he needs.

Liar! Where did you take him? What are you doing to him?

That doesn’t matter now. Denny will be fine. He will live a better life than you would have chosen for him. He will be fine. You have to trust me.

Trust you? Let me go! She struggled in her restraints. Did you say three weeks? Do I have a job to go back to? What am I going to do? Did you really say to trust you? Fuck you! I’ll be reporting this to the police. We will find you and the kid.

That doesn’t matter. The info you have about me is false. I will disappear after today. No one will find us. It’s better to accept what has happened.

She tested the straps on her wrists and ankles. The realization of her confinement returned to her. Veins darkened on her forehead, and her heavy breathing seemed more panicked by her eyes darting around the warehouse. I could imagine the multitude of questions, insults, and pleas that she wanted to scream at me. Her tears were leaving streaks down her beige silk blouse.

What exactly did you do to me? she managed. She stopped fighting against the straps.

I sat across from her with the cash and dagger separating us.

I enchanted you.

What? How…

It doesn’t matter whether you understand or not, whether you believe me or not. Soon, you will remember that I came into your office inquiring about a young boy who was about to be removed from his home. His parents were absent and heavily involved in drug use. Your initial thoughts regarding his condition were neglect and special needs. I wanted to be involved in his diagnosis and placement.

The sparks of memory were indeed coming back to her.

You didn’t have any qualifications. You weren’t family. I couldn’t let you be involved in any decisions concerning a child you didn’t know. Some tattooed punk who showed up wanting confidential information? I wasn’t about to let you… She stopped once she saw my smile at her assessment of my appearance. I don’t remember much after that.

You will, but I’ll remind you so we can finish our business here. You dismissed me immediately and became upset when I persisted. You picked up your phone to call security or the police, and I cast an enchantment over you.

You’re kidding me, she said.

Believe me or not, that’s what happened.

But how?

It’s complicated. But don’t get caught up in the details. Basically, you were beholden to my commands until the time I set your mind free. Like I told you, I needed to put you through any actions that would release the child into my custody. She pulled against the restraints chaffing and reddening her skin. I gave you instructions to do just that. And I must say, you did an excellent job. I expected many more problems than we encountered.

I don’t believe you. You must have drugged me or something.

Like I said, you don’t have to believe me. It doesn’t matter. I rose from the chair and unbuttoned my shirt. Jennifer wrestled in her chair with renewed vigor. Don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything to you. It is time for us to wrap this up. I removed my shirt, folded it, and set it down behind me. I didn’t want to endure this part, so I delayed it, and the longer I delayed it, the chances increased for her anxiety and emotions to win out.

Jennifer, are you familiar with concepts of karma?

Yeah, and you’ve probably got it bad!

You can say that. The magic I used on you requires balance. If I simply return you to your apartment, you will always worry and suffer greater than you need to. The magic will not be satisfied, and the continued karmic buildup will eventually find its way back to me. Make sense?

She nodded uncertainly. Sunlight poured in, illuminating the dust in holographic columns across her pale skin. You worship the devil or something? She observed the various tattoos across my chest and back.

No. The light also shone on the table. The dagger glimmered in an eerie aura that gave me pause. To satisfy the karma that I created with you, I have chosen a direct solution. I am going to give you a choice. Either one will be sufficient. Since the control I have exerted over you is dangerous and robs you of your free will, even if only for a short period of time, you must be allowed restitution.

How thoughtful of you.

"Your decision will need to be made quickly, and in such a manner that you will owe no karma to me. Your choices are in front of you. First, is a monetary repayment. It’s four thousand dollars, more than you would have lost from the time, and to have compensation for your efforts. It represents all that I have to offer in physical possessions. Take it, and we part ways never to see each other again. No residual magic will haunt you.

The second is the knife. It’s a ceremonial dagger that must be used precisely to fulfill the debt. This will seem very satisfying before you do it, but you must use it to kill me.

That startled her. She stared long at the dagger of gleaming steel, both sides sharpened and perfect. Its metal handle was shaped like a dragon coiling through itself with the jaws of the creature biting down on the shining metal blade. She was calm and collected while examining the weapon.

Retribution is more complicated. If you do not strike me in the heart on the first blow, you will have your own karma to satisfy. I will be your sacrifice, and making a sacrifice suffer is bad mojo. I found the marker in my pocket and drew a circle over my heart. Even with the prospect of death, I still wondered how many chemicals I was applying to my skin. You must strike here. If you do not, your karma will be murder, not sacrifice. Either way, your psyche will be scarred by such a violent act, but if you do it right, no balance will need to be restored. My payment will be made in blood.

You’re going to let me kill you?

"If that is your decision. You need to know that you will only have now to do it. Once I release you from the enchantment, the karmic energies are fresh and will return to our immediate environments to haunt us if not immediately satisfied. Your chance for retribution will fade soon.

Personally, I hope you’ll take the money and call us even.

She was silent.

Do you understand?

She nodded.

With a deep breath, I began removing the restraints, starting with her ankles. She watched as each of the padded leather straps was carefully undone. We locked gazes just before I pulled the first wrist strap. Her eyes danced like fire. The first wrist strap came loose, and she shoved me back with all her strength.

Frantically, she freed her left hand, snatched the dagger, and swung it with a glowing light from the blade’s reflection. The lighted arc struck my face as I turned away. Pain and blood poured from my cheek. I held off her second attack by wrestling her knife hand away from my face. She was stronger than she should have been, or I was weaker. We fell over the table and chairs, knocking both to the ground.

Her determination didn’t falter. She closed her fist and pummeled me with her free hand. A darkened cast had come over her sun-fire eyes. I had seen the look in the possessed and, like now, the incredibly pissed off. With firm control of her wrist, I managed to hold her other arm from hitting me further. I lay on my back with her straddled across my hips in some sadistic and erotic ceremony. Her chest heaved from straining through heavy breaths. She struggled against my grasp as I forced her knife hand down.

The blade’s tip scraped across my shoulder and chest as I manipulated her arm against her efforts. Blood dripped from my face and now from the fresh wounds created by dragging the knife. Once the tip found the center of the circle over my heart, I pulled her hand away enough to straighten the knife. I freed her other hand and gripped the weapon with both of mine. She still struggled to wield it freely.

Listen to me, I said as clearly as the adrenaline would allow. You must push hard through the circle. One blow. Otherwise, this will scar you deeper than simply killing someone. You don’t want this kind of magic to follow you. I don’t know if my words reached her. Maybe I should have simply overpowered her and dealt with the karma. I had a great deal more work to do, and going out this way would be foolish. Balance must be restored, the old lady would say. Damn her...

One blow. My voice was calmer, and the black haze faded from her eyes.

Gambling on all I had ever done, and not ready to pay for my decisions, I slowly released my grip on the knife. Jennifer held it with both hands on its handle with the leverage of her weight behind it. Her chest still heaved.

She weighed her options and wrestled to balance all of her considerations, her rational thoughts, her overwhelming emotions. Blood ran from the knife’s tip out of the circle’s center. She leaned away as if to gain more leverage. I closed my eyes, waiting for the impact.

The pain of the blade fell away with ringing of metal on concrete. She hit me hard in the face, spraying blood and swelling pain from the wound. Rising above me with dusty light shining around her, she kicked me hard.

Fuck you and your karma! She found the bundle of money and claimed it for herself. I’ll decide what the best punishment is for you. You don’t get to decide.

I said nothing as she looked at her payment. She considered the dagger with a long stare, then spit on me. Her anger radiated now with a measured control. The dark purple energies vibrated and reverberated around us. It was visibly agitated. I wondered if she could see it.

Don’t think you can walk away from this by offering me some ridiculous choice. I will find where you have Denny and make sure your ass goes to jail! How do I get the hell out of here?

Silently, I pointed to the shadowed entrance on the far side of the warehouse. Money in hand, she ran for the door.

Chapter 2

Ren

The local had worn off. I couldn’t help but touch the fresh stitches adorning my face. Luckily, I had known someone in Chicago who could treat minor wounds without the hassle and paperwork of a hospital or urgent care. Most medical facilities ask a lot of questions, especially when dealing with knife wounds. Having skilled friends in quiet places is critical when you don’t want to be identified and don’t have any money.

The cut across my chest and shoulder was nothing more than a bloody scratch. My face was another story. Jennifer had gotten me good. I could now prominently display a laceration from temple to cheek. Had the wound been any lower, I’d have a nice hole in my mouth to shoot water out of whenever I took a drink. The stitches were small and would heal, leaving a minimal scar. This would make me more memorable to people. Something I would rather avoid.

You shouldn’t touch it so much, Ren said before lifting her beer. I tilted my bottle toward her in acknowledgment and drank myself.

Ren and I grew up in the same cabin back in Colorado. I don’t remember how old we were when we met, maybe four or five. The old lady discovered her, like she did most kids, in pain and confused about what was happening to her.

My brother, Liam, considered Ren more like a sister, but I never got over the crush I had on her. We had never explored our feelings for each other; we had always just been friends.

Growing up, she had a knack for healing, both physically and energetically. She was a nurse in Chicago. Given how tight and precise the stitches were, I assumed she must have been sewing people up regularly.

She had soft brown hair and smooth pale skin that made her look all of fifteen. People probably dismissed her regularly for such a youthful look, except that she was tall. Taller than many men. I would think her naïve by her appearance, except she had nearly as many tattoos as I did. She had a remarkable talent for fixing people up. That and her requests for specific charms made me think that she’s seen more than she might admit.

Thanks again, I said. I can’t believe she got me in the face.

I can. She laughed. You’re stupid for using that shit on people.

So I’m told.

Ren had gotten me the lead on Denny. He must have been treated where she worked. She knew about the work I was doing and was sympathetic to helping. I had told her why I was there. Part of it was to find Denny, part of it was to see her again.

Going so far away from home was always risky. The boy had been such an extreme case that I didn’t really have a choice but to drive through the country’s heartland to find him.

Ren ordered another round despite not finishing the last. I turned my barstool to face the small dingy bar. It was what I imagine a midwestern bar to be. Poor lighting forgave the buildup on the floors and the faded pool tables. A few people milled about, barely seeming interested in their own activities. Maybe friends out for drinks, a couple on what might have been their first date. The bartender was prompt and kept things in order.

So, the name stuck? She wore that playful smile that must drive men wild. I’ve never known a man to be named after a fairy. I mean it’s cute and all, but not terribly professional, and certainly not very manly.

I happen to think it’s more masculine than most names.

Is that right? she asked. Do tell.

You know how it’s cool for a guy to wear a pink shirt? A guy who does must have a lot of confidence, right?

I suppose he would be confident in himself, she added.

Right.

So, your name is a statement of confidence? she mused. You must get all the girls. A tatted-up tough guy with a clean pink shirt and a fairy’s name. Sounds hot.

Are you making fun of me?

Don’t be so serious. I remember you making little magic charms and trying to sell them to Eula and Yarrow’s friends. It was a brilliant plan for a young kid trying to get arcade money.

I remember you enjoying our times at the arcade, I added. You, me, and Liam.

Those were fun times. You would go around to anyone, like a street vendor selling what you had just made. They said you were like a tinker selling goods on the road. She smiled at the memory.

I guess it’s like how people in old Europe got their names based on their profession.

In that case, Tink is much better than Zombie-Maker, or Nearly-Dies-From-Black-Magic-er. She looked at me full on, suddenly very serious. Promise me that you won’t do that anymore.

I nodded to her.

Don’t mess around with that shit.

I promise, I said. She didn’t seem convinced.

So, do you have what you owe me? she asked.

I thought you were doing me a favor.

Oh, I think I have done enough favors for you.

I produced the small silver pendant and turned it over across the tops of my fingers like a coin. The silver piece was fashioned into a Gaelic knot about the size of a quarter. Even in the dim light of the bar, it flowed with the green current I had woven into it days before. It was tight and packed with strands so fine that I was amazed at my own work. Apparently, I was willing to put more effort in if the piece was for a pretty girl. Ren never wanted intention placed into the pieces she ordered. I assumed she would apply her own intention. She just wanted raw energy as tightly packed as possible. Most people wanted a charm for good health, or protection, or to attract money or love. She was one of the few who wanted no pre-imposed purpose. I never asked, and she never offered a reason.

I flipped the medallion, and she caught it with a wink. She didn’t even examine it before placing it in her purse.

Thanks, she said.

Let me know if you know of anyone else who might want some work done.

Hurting for cash?

Yeah, I gave it all to that crazy child services lady.

You do some really peculiar things. She drank her beer and studied the bottle like it would reveal more than it had the last time she examined it. You’re leaving tonight?

In the morning. After tonight I think it best to bail before anyone starts looking for me. I just knew in my gut that Jennifer would not go straight to the police, if she went at all.

One of these times you’ll have to come out for something other than kidnapping and involuntary servitude.

You make it sound so sinister. She saluted with her bottle. What did you have in mind?

Do you always have to play games and wait for other people to say what you’re thinking?

I wasn’t expecting this kind of directness or the immediate tension it caused. I thought I was smooth when it came to women. Ren had a good vibe about her. As much as I liked her, I had never really wanted to mix my work with sex. Most of the girls I took home didn’t know much about me, making it easy to slip away. I didn’t want any karma to complicate my endeavors. Truth is, I didn’t want a relationship, and I didn’t know why.

I don’t know that you’re ready for that, I told her brazenly. That caught her attention.

She smiled a wicked smile and turned her barstool toward me.

Is that right?

I shrugged and drank my beer.

So, you know how to play? she said. Tell me, Tink, what is it exactly that you think I’m not ready for?

My face flushed with heat, and my palms were tingling. I wasn’t one to brag and certainly not about sexual prowess. She sensed it immediately and seemed intent on proving who could handle what. She slid her hand up my thigh. I tried to play it cool.

Should we take this to your place? I asked as level as I could manage.

She breathed deeply beside my ear. Sorry, she said softly. You left a special needs kid there with my sister. I wanted to protest, but she was right about that. What’s your next move? Her voice was sultrier and her breath heavy.

Let’s get a room.

I like it. One problem.

Yeah?

She stood before me with a stoic and sober look that was shocking for how sensuous she had been the moment before.

Earlier tonight you gave all your money to some other girl.

It was like a splash of cold water, knowing that she was messing with me. Maybe I would have to take a trip out here and do more than nearly get myself killed.

You’re cute, Tink. I kind of expected you to be more of an asshole. Relax, dude, I’m just fucking with you. Finish your beer. You’ll need to get some sleep before you drive halfway across the country tomorrow.

Searching for something to say, I could only nod and turned back to my drink.

Your sister is cool with watching the kid for a few hours?

If she isn’t, she’s going to have to deal with it. I told her I would take her out some night and pick up the tab. She’s fine. She can watch a kid that doesn’t move and won’t talk for a few hours.

The bartender came around and gave everyone last call. We acknowledged him without ordering.

Did you find out who was supposed to foster the kid? she asked.

No, I didn’t want to draw too much attention by digging too deep.

I hope they were planning to put him somewhere that could truly take care of him.

They try hard, but you know the system. He’s as likely to end up with someone who wants the tax credit as much as someone who wants to help.

I have to wonder how often something like what you did happens to other people.

What do you mean? I asked.

You snuck in there, hypnotized a woman, and had her give you a child. Don’t you wonder if other people are trying to do the same thing, but maybe with less altruistic intentions? I mean, they wouldn’t do it the same way, ’cause that’s just crazy what you do, but what if someone is kidnapping children right under child services’ nose?

I never put that much thought into it, but I guess it’s possible. Seems like a lot to go through.

Says the guy who spends all of his money and almost dies to get custody of a child that society doesn’t want. You might consider a more brute approach. She winked and finished my beer. Let’s get out of here, Mr. Traveling Salesman.

Ren lived in a crappy South Side apartment that kept you looking over your shoulder until you were inside. It was as clean as a fifty-year-old apartment could be. Watermarks stained the ceiling from leaks that were who knows how old. The brown carpet hadn’t been replaced for several tenants and, despite efforts to keep it clean, looked ragged and worn. Still, she had decorated it with modern artwork and clean electronics. I liked that she primarily listened to records, and the TV suffered from general lack of use. This night the TV was on with some kids’ show full of colorful characters that might be mistaken for monsters dancing to bass-heavy techno.

Denny sat on the couch, heavily invested in the show. By all appearances, he looked like a normal kid. He had dark hair grown out from a buzz cut and dark brown eyes that looked black in most light. The boy ate well, and it showed in his stocky build and large belly. Even being on the heavy side, he had a square jaw and sharp features that betrayed his body type.

I sat beside him and watched the colorful dancing monsters for a moment. It amazed me that shows like this were so mesmerizing for kids. I could understand for someone tripping mushrooms, but for perfectly sober youngsters... I didn’t get it.

Hi, Denny.

He didn’t respond, and he simply stared at the TV. I had gotten used to his lack of response, but still found it odd that someone could seem so conscious and have so little reaction to outside stimuli. Ren had told me about him four weeks before. She had said she encountered a child from a drug abused household. He was unresponsive and had been evaluated for autism spectrum disorder and trauma induced psychological and emotional issues. What caught Ren’s attention was that his energy was wound so tight that she couldn’t affect it.

Most people have an energy field or aura that is unique to them and will interact with the environment around them. She told me that his aura was isolated and appeared to be in some sort of feedback loop that couldn’t be broken. A possible misdiagnosis made sense because of his lack of interaction, and that he was found in a home with multiple people lost in the fog of heavy drug use. It didn’t make sense that he would be so well fed. Most kids in those situations were as skinny as the people supposed to be taking care of them.

According to Denny’s file, he lived with his parents, who had taken a sudden and seemingly unexpected turn into heroin abuse. They were a regular suburban family with a decent income and good jobs, until they started to party too hard. In just a couple of months, they went from having the American dream to living a nightmare, and they completely missed that their child had also faded into a dark and empty existence. To truly help him, I would need to find out more about what had happened to him.

I had seen similar situations. Adults and children that got stuck in a sort of auric paralysis for various reasons. Most times people were caught up in drug use or were victims of abuse and couldn’t escape that trap with support and therapy.

I don’t know if you can hear me, Denny, but tonight you’re going to sleep here. The lady that lives here has a room set up for you. In the morning you and me are going to drive for several hours to another place. You’ll like it. There’s someone there that will take care of you.

The look in his eyes had an eerie familiarity. He looked like he was enchanted. He had the same look that Jennifer had had. I didn’t have any meaningful experience with autistic children, but I had a hard time believing that Denny’s glazed eyes and lack of awareness, matched with a ready compliance, were common traits of the condition. All of the previous children exhibited behavioral challenges of different varieties, but I had never seen a person so comatose be so conscious, except for the enchanted.

Did I hear you call me a ‘lady’? Ren leaned against the hallway wall opposite the couch.

I was being polite in front of Denny here.

Whatever you say, she said.

Has he eaten anything since we brought him here? I asked.

Yeah, it’s interesting. He doesn’t respond to much of anything, except when you directly tell him to take care of himself. Eating, going to the bathroom, and I bet he’ll lie down for bed just as easily. It’s like he’s a zombie. He will do what you tell him but take no action himself. She moved her eyes from Denny to me. You’re sure you or someone else didn’t cast something over him?

I don’t know. Why would someone do that?

You’re the expert here, she said.

I just don’t see the point. That would be some powerful magic for someone to waste on a seven-year-old. And some really bad mojo to boot.

You’re assuming it’s a waste.

Maybe. I still don’t know why someone would do that to a kid. The thing is, if his parents truly got caught up in the nastiness that they did…

She raised her hand to stop me.

It’s late. Denny needs some sleep before your long van ride in the morning. She leaned over Denny and ran her hand gently over his dark hair. He didn’t react to her kindness. Hey, Denny. It’s time for you to go to bed. Can you do that for me? Still no response. Denny, go to bed. With that, he rose from the couch and stood before her. She led him to the bedroom with a bed made up for him.

I waited for her to put him down by wandering through the different posters and paintings hanging on the walls. Most were abstract paintings that you might buy from local artists. She had a couple of Waterhouse pieces, a staple in any neo-pagan apartment. The most striking piece was a landscape of the moon rising above mountains. The moon had a fire-red mist feeding down upon the earth below. The mist flowed over the mountains like an invading force.

I call it ‘Cassiopeia,’ she said behind me. Not that original, I know, but it seemed to fit. Kind of like how our desire for more can be damaging and still beautiful.

You painted this?

Yeah, that one and most of them around here. She came up beside me. Look closer, magic boy.

She always smiled when giving me shit. I looked closer at the painting. The image was subtly illuminated with energy. By its yellowish-green essence, I guessed it to be purposed with protection like an evil eye.

Is this what you use the medallions for? I asked.

No, I can do this on my own.

Why the protection spell? You have something following you?

Don’t we all, she said. Truth is, I enjoyed making it. If I can keep a little wickedness out with it, great. I just like it.

It’s tight. You did well.

Thanks, Tink. She slapped me on the shoulder, then went to the kitchen. She came back with two beers. We sat down at the dining table to remedy our soberness.

You want to see something? Ren asked.

Do you have to ask?

Keep it in your pants, she said teasingly. Look at this. She took a fabric bracelet from the side table beside the couch. It was a mix of different fabric and wire. I recognized it as a bracelet that Ren often wore as a child. She handed me the delicate item. An alive and electric surge channeled up my arm.

What?

Isn’t it cool? That was my mom’s. I don’t have a lot of things from her. I was pretty young when she died. And we didn’t have a lot, as you know. I handed the bracelet back to her. But this is something that I kept. She made it for me.

Did she enchant it? I asked.

No, I don’t think she knew anything about all of that. I put the energy into it. She turned it over, showing me the whole thing. I think of her, and I channel energy into it. It helps me to think of her, especially when I’m stressed out or feeling alone in the world. Now, I’m not as good as you are with all of this, but I know how to add intention to objects. There’s something unique about this bracelet that I can’t quite figure out.

What is it?

Most items have a limit to the power that can be infused. You told me that, and I have experienced it as well.

I have that problem a lot.

Right, but this blend of cloth and metal just keeps taking whatever I put into it. It might just be fading out, and I’m replacing lost energy, but I can’t seem to find its limit.

What’s this on top? I asked. I pointed out the wire circle that seemed empty on the piece.

She never told me. I figured it was for another piece of jewelry that she never had a chance to give me. But it looks like something is supposed to go in there, doesn’t it?

It does. Even without it, this is a cool piece. There’s a lot of energy in here.

She looked over the bracelet again and set it back on the table. We both sat back and drank the beers that she brought out. The room was a little too quiet for how much we had talked throughout the evening.

I don’t think we should talk about Denny’s situation too much in front of him, she said. We really don’t know how much he can comprehend. For all we know, he’s locked in a terrible space where he can see and hear everything. Maybe he can feel everything that happens to him and is powerless to do anything about it.

That’s scary.

Says the zombie master. Please tell me that you don’t use that spell often.

If I did, I’d have a lot more injuries for you to sew up.

Seriously, dude. I would never think of casting such a dangerous spell. What if you got it wrong and that energy fell on you? You’d be hosed. She took a drink. "You’d think real zombies would announce themselves like they do in the movies. You know, ravenously chasing down