Fantasy The MPC Rushes Story, Cont.

[Lisbeth Walpurgis]

"I don't know," she admitted, "It was more of a feeling, really. Something is nearby. Potent magic. I'm sure you know your own house, Mr. Blackiron, but I'm going to go take a look."


She stalked from the room, drawing one of her swords as she went. She wished she still had her scepter, but the sword would have to do as a magical focus. She was merely controlling Lisbeth's body anyway, she hadn't transformed, so she wasn't even sure she could access her full abilities. That was probably good; she didn't want to accidentally burn down the House with cold fire.


She looked around the hallway, empty, and a sound like a soft sigh drew her up the darkened staircase.


"Lumos," she murmured, and the sword shone with a weak blue glow. Better than nothing.


The upstairs hall held several doors, all closed. Which one should she try first? Another whisper and her attention was drawn to another staircase. Had it been there a moment ago? This one swept up in a spiral, all polished ebony wood with just a touch of gold accents. A deep burgundy carpet silenced her footsteps as she ascended.


She arrived in another hall, as black and featureless as the others, and yet somehow it seemed finer than the rest of the house had been. She realized it was because the floor was black marble, polished to a high shine. This time there was only one door at the far end, a set of two black wooden doors, intricately carved with the image of a set of scales. She slowly approached, the heart within her pounding and aching with a feeling she could not describe let alone give a name. On one side of the scales was a black feather, painfully realistic with a subtle rainbow sheen, and on the other was...


She reached out and gingerly ran a hand over the exquisitely carved image, leafed in bright burnished gold: a human heart. Did she imagine it, or did the scales waver slightly at her touch?


"What is this?" she whispered.


As though sensing her, reacting to her words, there was the sound of something moving, like gears clacking together, and the doors swung open, revealing only blackness within...

 

[ArtBlott]

Blott frowned. Her crow cawed at the window, fluttering it's wing irritably. She didn't hear anything either, but something had bother both Frostine and her bird.


Here we go again. Blott grabbed her bird and carried it, since it didn't want to leave the window, hurrying to follow her friend.


No, that second staircase was new...and in color! Whereas everything she had looked for was like a black and white movie. Yes, she was getting the picture now.


"Coming, House Master?" She called back before ascending the stairs.

 

[UCBooties]

William stood from behind the desk and followed Blott. As he stepped into the hallway he closed the door firmly behind him. He trailed silently behind Blott as she ascended.


At the top of the spiral staircase he saw the long hall and the two black doors. He stood at the head of the stair, saying nothing. He would watch to see what happened to Frostine, but for now he would draw no closer.

 

[slee77]

Fitz looked at Genevieve slightly unnerved by actually having to teach her and slightly by her actions. He was accustomed to being slightly out of reach and now he was spending more time, direct time, with her. "Ok, well first things first…when you feel the slight shakes coming on I know your first reaction is to tense up. I noticed that you always clinch your jaw when you jump…which, look I get it, you don't know where you are going to land and that is scary.You have to relax and almost let your body go numb."

 

[slee77]

Fitzgerald focused his gaze on her. His voice becoming deadly serious. "This part is the different part. You have to think of an idea or place you want to go. You have to almost write it in your mind. So clear that you can see it when you close your eyes." Fitzgerald walks behind her gently placing his hands on her shoulders. Slowly whispering in her ears as his voice drops."Picture it, a time , a place, Stay grounded.As long as I am touching you I am tethered to you."

 

[Arkadious]

From deep within the pitch black void of the room beyond the double doors with the Scales, two glowing embers slowly took to light, floating at just above eye level for Lisbeth/Frostine. They seemed to pierce into her core as they gazed upon her. The chill she felt earlier ran down her spine and she heard that Voice? Song? Calling? She didn't know exactly what to make of it but it resonated deep within her and seemed to quicken the pace of the Heart beating within her breast. Frostine could feel the Writer fidgeting deep within their currently shared psyche and had to pause at the strain that her Creator must be under trying to support the both of them...

 

[Lisbeth Walpurgis]

The implications of that strain reinforced something she knew deep down: she and Lisbeth could not remain merged as they were. They would either fuse together beyond separation into one entity, or it would destroy them both.


But that didn't matter right now.


Those embers that stared her down made her want to both rush into the room and flee it as fast as she could in equal parts. Instead she remained rooted to the spot, gazing into those burning eyes with every ounce of steel she possessed from her hundreds of years of life, even though not a one of them was real. Nothing about her was real, even this body wasn't hers, but she was all that Lisbeth had to protect her and stars be damned if she was going to let this man or spirit or whatever the hell he was hurt Lisbeth any more than he had already. It was his fault that this stranger's heart beat in Lisbeth's body, his fault that her sense of self was utterly shattered, his fault that she now lay in a panic-induced coma at that back of her own mind while a fictional character drove her around like some puppet.


Her hand tightened around the hilt of her sword, and as it did her hair turned icy blue, growing long as it did, and her skin paled to the white of freshly fallen snow.


"Hello," said Frostine, her voice tinged with barely concealed disdain, "Arkadious Grimoire."

 

[Genevieve Moulin]

Genevieve's breath caught in her throat as Fitzgerald's whispered words tickled her ear. She closed her eyes and sank into the moment, savoring the weight of his hands on her shoulders.


Picture a time, a place. I am tethered to you.





She squeezed her eyes tighter, tried to hold on.


Why can't it just be this way? Why can't I whisk us away from all of this and not come back?


But there were so many reasons.


"Fitz," she said, turning around to face him, his arms still around her. "When I said I didn't know if I could do this, I meant it." Her brow wrinkled as she looked up into his eyes. "I...I feel different somehow. I haven't jumped since we met in the Sitting Room--days now! I'm not sure I can anymore, and I don't know why. Before it was as though I was forced to jump, and now I feel as if I'm forced to stay put. It's like I have no choice in the matter at all. And...it scares me."

 

[slee77]

"Genevieve we take this one step at a time." Fitz said his hands still on her shoulders, his eyes still looking down at hers. " If it is gone there has to be a reason and if it is dormant there has to be a reason. It doesn't just leave you. It can only be moved into an object. Then again I am not sure why mine is back.I won't act as though I know everything. I don't, but what I DO know can prepare you and possible save you for when it does come back and I can promise you it will come back." Fitzgerald tried to get his eyes to meet hers with little success.

 

[Arkadious]

Within the pitch black darkness of the room, an eerie and yet familiar chill to Frostine started to emanate from the center of the room. Suddenly, a strong wind swept up and pulled her into the room, the double doors slamming shut behind her and plunging her into absolute darkness. After a few moments, that Voice was whispering in her head again as the two glowing embers appeared behind her...

 

[Lisbeth Walpurgis]

She clamped down on the thrill of panic that flared within her as the doors slammed shut behind her. It would do no good to lose her head now. She drew the second sword, but their light could not pierce the strangely thick darkness that surrounded her. She couldn't see where the burning eyes had gone, but that damn voice was still whispering. Promises of pain and sweet seductive pleasures. Wonderful things. Horrible things. And worst of all - she liked it.


"Damn it!" Frostine growled, letting her rage block out the worst of it, "What are you? Who sent you? Was it Thanatos?"

 

[Arkadious]

The glowing embers behind her started to slowly orbit her, staying well out of the reach of her swords. As the orbs circled her, the lilting Voice continued softly, humming, singing, calling to her in the back of her head. It made her ache and euphoric at the same time.


"Thanatos..? No...Inconsequential...Shall be dealt with shortly...must prepare, however...itz and Genevi...Last known location..Must Hurry...!!!"


The embers continued circling, until they had made one full loop around her and then back in front of her. Their gaze burned into her, but not in the manner that one would assume to cause pain, but like a warm wave washing over her, cascading over the Writer slumbering within and calming her frantic nerves.


"Safeguard her, Snow-Assassin. She has much left to do, much left to Tell. Prepare her..." As suddenly as they had sparked into being, the twin burning embers snuffed out and a faint thud could be heard, as if something had fallen to the floor. The double doors flung open and a dim light slowly crept into the room, the chill fading as the light penetrated the darkness. On the floor in front of Frostine was a small dusty book, open and laying pages down...

 

[ArtBlott]

"Are you ok?!" Blott's bird cried, a little louder than needed, what with Blott squeezing it so tightly in her hands. She rushed up to Frostine, eyes wide and worried. Her crow gave a cry of indifference, and she finally let go, only to wring her hands nervously, "We heard voices, and the door was stuck shut!"


Until they flew back open and smacked me in the face, she omitted. She was certain she'd have a bruise on that side of her face come morning.

 

[Lisbeth Walpurgis]

Frostine trembled. She knew now what was so unsettling about the whispering voice, why it had sounded so strange and yet so wonderful at the same time. The words were spoken in her own language, the one that she had left behind in her world. Another thing she had given no thought to when she had melded with the Writer: the language of Lisbeth's companions was not the same as Frostine's, and yet she could understand and speak it fluently. This, though, these whispers were like what she had heard in the back of her mind when Jack Frost had once tried to lay a charm upon her.


With a fluid motion she sheathed her swords and snatched the book off the floor. She turned to the now open doors and strode purposefully into the light. Blott waited on the other side of the door, concern writ plain across her face as her crow squawked her concerns. William stood impassively by the stairs, his expression inscrutable.


"I'm fine. We need to find Genevieve and Altamonte," she told them, "Quickly. We may not be as safe here as you think, Mr. Blackiron."

 

[Lisbeth Walpurgis]

"Or," she added, her expression darkening, "Perhaps it's not where we are that's dangerous. It may be that our resident Time Jumpers are about to make a perilous mistake."

 

[Genevieve Moulin]

Why couldn't he meet her eye?


"Altamonte, I..." But the confession died on her lips as she heard cries and banging from upstairs. "I think we should check on the others. Something doesn't feel right."

 

[ArtBlott]

"No," said Blott, hurrying to catch everyone up on her findings, "We're all dangerous to this place. It's like a battery, I think, powered by the residency. That's how it keeps unfolding itself around us. It's using us as it has Mr. William, I think, not so much to exist, but to Be. We're just more than what it's used to," she caught William's eye and smiled sharply, "It's not used to so much madness that it can't contain all of it."

 

[UCBooties]

"There may be merit to what you say," William allowed, "It is unusual for Black Iron House to have more than one visitor at a time..."

 

[ArtBlott]

"Tch, merit he says. I Draw in shades of grey. When I went poking around, everything I was looking at, or looking for, was colorless. No reflective surfaces either, just shine and shadow. And I can't make things like mirrors, or edible food. This place had neither. A Writer starts to wander, and everything folds out in technicolor," she made her case as simple and quick as she could, since they were clearly in a hurry, "Oh, and you have an owl painting on your wall now. I think it's permanent."

 

[UCBooties]

William turned, already leading the way back downstairs.


"I am certain Black Iron House accepts your contribution." His voice sounded terse and he hardly looked to see if the two women were following him, his long legs fairly flew down the spiral staircase. "The House cannot create anything, it only calls forth objects that already exist inside of it. It is why Black Iron House usually has such exacting requirements for payment." He reached the bottom of the stair and briefly glanced back.


"I fear the effect that you all are having on the House are profound, but I cannot confirm my suspicions without the Writer and if we do not get a hold of the Travelers it may cease to matter in a very final manner."


He crossed to the door that was next to the study where he had led them on arrival. His hand closed on the door handle and pulled hard.


The door did not budge. William let out a hiss of frustration. "Why? Why them?" He cast his eyes upwards and it was clear that his question was directed at the house itself, or perhaps some as yet unseen master. Whoever he was asking he apparently did not receive a satisfactory response. His face hardened into a snarl, the most emotion any of them had seen on his bookish features as he spun away from the door.


"I wish to go to the Orrery."


He strode towards the double doors at the head of the hall. Had they been there before? Of course they hadn't.


He threw the doors open and led the way into the massive chamber beyond.


The room was dominated by a mechanical model of the solar system. It included the Sun, Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, and Jupiter as well as all their moons in exquisite mechanical detail. The planets were massive globes of glass, lit from within and suspended from a huge clockwork mechanism. A pillar molded its way out of the hardwood floor and the Ledger appeared atop it.


William placed his hand atop the Ledger and muttered under his breath, "I hope this works."

 

[Lisbeth Walpurgis]

Frostine followed William down through the house, breaking into a jog to keep up with the tall man's long strides. They rushed down to the first floor, to the room that Genevieve and Fitzgerald had sequestered themselves in for training. The door wouldn't budge, which seemed to distress William greatly.


"I wish to go to the Orrery," he snarled, and Frostine was taken aback at the force of it. She had thought him to be nothing more than a knowledgeable clerk, but here she saw a glimpse of something deeper. This might be the face of William Blackiron, Monster Hunter.


He led them through a set of double doors that certainly had not been there a moment ago, and Frostine found herself at a loss for words. There was a strange contraption at the center of the huge chamber: enormous glass globes of different colors spun about a huge golden one in the center on limbs of brass, all suspended from some kind of clockwork machine. It was a little like the sorts of things the High Mage back home would tinker with, but on a massive scale.


"I hope this works," William muttered as he leaned over a pedestal that had risen from the floor with the Ledger atop it.


Frostine swayed a bit on her feet, and her hair shortened and turned brown as her skin returned to a more natural color. Her breathing was labored, and sweat stood in beads on her brow.


"Damn. Running out of steam here," she thought, then she tried to think as hard as she could, "Lisbeth! You need to wake up! Blackiron says we need you and I can't stay in control much longer!"

 

[Arkadious]

The Watch in Lisbeth's pouch started to glow faintly and deep with in her psyche, where she had retreated when Frostine took over, deep in slumber, a gentle hand caressed her cheek then brushed an errant strand of hair from her face.


"Time to wake up, Writer, you are needed else where..." A familiar voice said, smooth as silk but with a certain edge to it. Briefly, for a moment that barely lasted the space between a blink and a tear, in that ethereal haze from dreaming to waking, she saw him...

 

[Genevieve Moulin]

Though she was reluctant to break away from Fitz, Genevieve forced herself to walk away. She took hold of the doorknob and found it wouldn't budge. She jiggled the handle again, harder this time, then kicked the door in frustration.


"We're locked in!" she shouted to Fitz. "Lisbeth, no, Frostine, Blott! Can any of you hear us?"


She slammed her palm against the door.


"What if they need us?" she said, the panic plain in the high pitch of her voice.


She spun around, looking for anything they could use to break out, but her eyes landed on Fitz. She didn't understand herself why it was so important that they get out of this room and to their friends immediately, but it was a need not a want.


"Jump us out!" she commanded, barely able to hold herself together. "Just jump us across the threshold, five minutes into the future!"

 

[Genevieve Moulin]

"Genevieve, I don't think..."


But Fitz stopped short at the look on her face: eyes wide and wild, lips pressed into a thin, determined line. He knew she was headstrong, but he'd never seen her quite like this--her desperation was palpable. And she was right; their friends could be in trouble.


"Okay, Red, okay," he said, palms raised in surrender. "Into the future we go."


He reached out and took her hand in his, and the room faded away around them.

 

[UCBooties]

The Sitting Room





The Travelers jump. Hands clasped together they step out of time, for a single moment they are nowhere. For the space between breaths they are aware of nothing. Nothing perhaps, save the warmth of each other's hands.


Usually when they jump there is that moment of emptiness, of being truly nowhere, and then they find themselves in a new place and a new when. This time is not usual.


The sitting room appears before them, faded and transparent like an old lithograph plate. It is the impression of the space, rendered in faded black smudges, untouchable and out of reach. An instant later the room is doubled, and doubled, and doubled again, superimposed over itself a trillion times. Now they can see Black Iron House around them. Also intangible and shadowed. An infinite number of Black Iron Houses enfold and encapsulate them. Beyond its walls are worlds. Every Earth that ever was, every future that ever could be, and an uncountable number of other worlds as well, meshed together into an infinite array of universes. It was as though reality itself had been held up to a prism of probability and that prism had refracted it into all its multitude of possibilities.


Beyond these worlds, somehow behind or between or within them, they became aware of the mechanism. Gears smaller than atoms and larger than stars, flywheels made of dark matter and springs of coiled gravity and the whole watch face of space time, frozen at the moment of their jump.


The whole mechanism trembled, untold pressures mounting within it. It would not, could not, hold still for much longer. It must either move or break.


The second hand begins to move.


The Orrery





"I hope this works." Barely had the words left William's mouth when time itself unspooled around them.


The Orrery exploded.


Or at least it seemed to. With a terrible howl of twisting metal and shearing gears it flew apart around them. But it was not truly breaking, not yet at least. It was simply expanding in an instant to something infinitely larger than it had been. More arms, with more spheres, they sprung forth in new orbits of their own. They shrank and grew, and sprouted new systems from themselves, like new branches growing and budding and bearing fruit. It was like watching a time lapse of a tree growing, except that they were also trapped within that very same time lapse and the tree was made of metal and gears and constantly in whirling, incomprehensible motion.


Somehow the whole whirling, crashing, screaming model did not smash through the walls or crush them. The room itself must have grown to nearly infinite size to accommodate it. The Ledger flew open under William's hands and and infinite number of pages turned over within its heavy cover. William grabbed the edges of the pillar it sat upon and hung on grimly, his eyes darting as he somehow read something within the storm of paper was whirling by before his eyes. His mouth was moving quickly as he read to himself but none of the others could not make out what he was saying over the terrible cacophony of the Orrery that was even now, expanding, and spinning faster and faster around them.


Just when it seemed that the whole careening system must fly apart under the strain, William slammed his hand down on the open Ledger. The pages stopped turning and the whole Ledger trembled violently under his hands. "Take us all somewhere safe!" His shout seemed to reverberate through the whole mechanism.


Mayberry Street





Black Iron House was gone 12.5 seconds before the air raid siren started. 30 seconds after that the first blast wave blew apart the neat lines of ranch houses as though they were made of cards. Mushroom clouds marched along the horizon as the bombs continued to fall.


Nowhere





The Travelers, the Writer, the Artist, and the Master of the house found themselves standing in a large, empty hall with vaulted ceilings. The Orrery was gone. In the center of the room there was only a tiny model of Black Iron House itself. It was like a doll's house rendered in exquisite detail. The pillar and Ledger were gone and William slumped to the ground, barely able to keep himself conscious. The House seemed to settle around them. groaning as though a terrible strain had been placed upon it and then removed.


Black Iron House now stands along a street, shrouded in mist, between identical houses that stretch into the mist in rows as far as the eye can see. But at the end of the street, just barely visible in the crowding grayness, there stands a different, far larger structure...