Witchmoon: Planestriders, #1

By Jane Wiseman

an urban fantasy/paranormal romance novella, YA

 

To stride the planes, wield the power.

 

Maggie and Rowan are best friends. Rowan knows she's a witch, but practical Maggie has no idea she herself is a mage.

Until the moon teaches her otherwise.

Until a rotting presence threatens Rowan.

Until a young man with the amber eyes of a wolf changes Maggie's mind about pretty much everything.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shrike Publications
• Release date: Jan 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9781735506845

Jane Wiseman

Jane Wiseman is a writer who splits her time between urban Minneapolis and the Sandia Mountains of New Mexico. She writes fantasy novels and other types of speculative fiction, and other genres as well.

Book preview

OTHERWHERE

Two mages

The mage John Dee and his good friend Merlin leaned over the railing to peer down over the ledge to the Spheres beneath them. They smiled to see the small creatures crawling over the surface of the land far below.

They had been friends for a long time. Now they were sitting around, just relaxing, because they had been working hard. They made a pleasing contrast. Dee with his slight stoop, his white pointy beard, his piercing blue eyes. Merlin as dark as dark mahogany, as big and strong as some gnarled tree trunk. But underneath the cheerful surfaces of the two mages, and their differences, lay a heavy layer of shared anxiety.

You've heard the rumors. Merlin tapped out a little tattoo on the railing with his thick, blunt fingers.

Yes, said Dee shortly.

Do you think they're true?

I wouldn't have thought Ailys had it in her, said Dee.

She never has done much damage before. A witch, a powerful witch, but always a little flighty. Her powers always just a bit out of control.

If she's changed, I hold the two of us responsible, Mervin, said Dee, calling his friend by the name Merlin used on their home plane. Of course they strode the planes, and were familiar with many of them, and had many different identities, depending on time and place. On the plane just beneath them, Mervin was known as Merlin, or sometimes Myrddin.

But on their home plane, he was just Mervin Tuttle, a jovial trucker out of Asheville.

On their home plane, Dee was known as Dr. John D'Nofrio, a neurologist practicing in St. Louis, Missouri.

That turned out pretty convenient for the two of them. It's a straight shot on I-40 across the country from Asheville to St. Louis.

On the plane just beneath them, though, Merlin was a well-known magician and wizard, celebrated in song and story. Dee was less well-known, at least not in the time period they were observing just then.

But in another time on this plane, and also on his home plane, John Dee was very well known indeed.

The two of them worked together nicely. Each one’s strength meshed well with the other’s, and their weaknesses balanced each other out. Just now, they had a witch problem to solve.

Ailys. Merlin drew his breath in a hiss between his teeth. As usual, he was gnawing on the stump of a foul-smelling cigar. Are we responsible for that witch?

After all, Dee pointed out. We did send her to our own home plane, to get her out of her meddling on this one.

How does that make us responsible, exactly? We thought she'd be properly chastised there, removed from her source of power. Merlin looked grumpily over the rail and flicked an ash.

Because instead of being properly chastised, she made a success out of her exile. From a lowly pedicurist, she rose to own her own chain of nail salons.

They look pretty run-down, if you ask me, said Merlin.

Maybe. But as a local business owner, she ran for Kirkwood City Council and only lost by a whisker. There was even some talk of her own cable tv show at one time. But she left St. Louis. Now she's back on this plane. Dee gestured to the lands hazily visible below the nine crystalline Spheres beneath them. Maybe that's a good thing. He looked aside to Merlin's cigar. Filthy habit, he muttered.

Somehow, Ailys has gained power. Cigar? Merlin pulled one out of the pocket of his robe.

Dee spent many minutes fussing with it and getting it lit. He tilted back in his golden chair, put his feet on the parapet, and exhaled a stream of smoke. He thought about Ailys and her abilities. I hear Ailys has gained enough power to cast a portal.

Do you know how disturbing that is, John?

Yes, of course I do, Dee replied. Not many witches can boast powers like that. Not many witches can cast portals.

Maybe she's only able to cast local portals, suggested Merlin.

We'll have to hope so. Because if she can move between the planes. . . Dee left the implications unstated. They were too terrible to think about.

Somehow she got back to this plane, Merlin pointed out.

Let's not worry before we have to. She could have gotten back using the portals of the other kinds.

Mage portal, I suppose, said Merlin. But in that case. . .

Dee nodded grimly. In that case, some of the minions of their arch-enemy Gilles de Rais must have grown powerful enough to stride the planes. At least Gilles couldn’t have summoned her. He and Merlin had made sure of that themselves. They’d seen Gilles locked away. Then a chill crept over Dee. Suppose. . . suppose he got out of his vault.

Dee didn't need to say whom he meant by he.

Gilles de Rais. The most powerful mage of them all, only excepting themselves.

And it took all we had just to imprison him in that bore-hole and keep him there, said Merlin, following up on Dee's unspoken thought.

No, said Dee suddenly. No, Mervin. Look there. He pointed.

By now the Spheres had clicked along from morning to afternoon to twilight. Now it was night, and the moon, hanging by her golden chain from her proper Sphere, had begun to rise over the lands below.

As Dee and Mervin stared in horror, they saw the full bright orb of the moon unnaturally darken. Of course the moon had her spots, and of course Dee and Mervin knew what they really were—craters on her surface—but now they watched while a seemingly innocuous dark area of the moon grew darker and darker until it became a concentrated point of darkness, slightly indented, like a dimple on the surface of the orb. Then abruptly the moon rebounded and returned to normal.

Witch portal, breathed Dee. What do we do? Do we go to The Three?

No, said Merlin firmly, shaking his head. They are not to be bothered with a situation we can easily handle by ourselves.

Where do you think she's gone?

They both knew they were thinking Ailys must have cast the portal. They both feared where.

She may not have gone to our plane, John, said Merlin reassuringly. She could have gone to any of them.

I have a bad feeling she's gone to our plane. We had her safely controlled there. Then somehow she left. Now she's heading back, with new powers. A very bad feeling, Mervin.

It's just a feeling, John.

I'm going over there.

Oh, very well, John. I'll come with you.

And so the two mages prepared their own portal.

How's the family? Merlin was trying to take Dee's mind off Ailys, and Dee saw it and appreciated his friend's kindness.

They're great, said Dee.

I can't wait to see the lovely Mrs. D and get some of her good cooking. Merlin smacked his belly.

As long as you know you'll have to listen to her go on and on about qubit field theory. Can't wait to see her myself. The semester is over and I'll be able to get her to relax.

And the kids?

John Jr. Dee beamed with pleasure. The all-American boy. He's learning to drive. Now Dee looked a bit spooked.

And Maggie? said Merlin gently.

She's great. It's just that. . .

You're still seeing some signs?

I'm pretty sure, Mervin.

John, you've got to stop worrying.

I can't. Fathers can't.

John, you know as well as I do. Most mages never realize what they are. Most mages just live a normal life. Or if they do suspect they have powers, they keep it to themselves. Especially on our plane. Age of science, eh? He gave Dee a nudge.

But if their powers are strong, it's very dangerous for them.

If Maggie has powers that strong, she'll have you beside her every step, to help and guide her.

I promised Bridget I wouldn't let Maggie use them, if that's what we're seeing. Bridget says one mage in the family is just about all she can handle.

A mage with a mother who is a tenured full professor of physics. The ultimate rationalist. That's a tough one, all right. We'll talk more later. Here's our portal.

Wait, said Dee. Where will we come out?

How about Asheville, in my back yard. Then we can nip into my house and get some clothes.

Sounds like a plan, said Dee. We should watch out for those neighbors of yours. The nosy ones who peek through the curtains.

I'll give em something to gawk at, said Merlin, with a randy chuckle.

Mervin! Dee was shocked.

For when mages cast their portals and step through, nothing comes with them. And then the locals are gonna stare.

HERE

Cold touch

Maggie D'Nofrio and her best friend Rowan Winston were sitting slumped over on their favorite bench in the park. They were depressed.

They weren't going to prom.

They'd been asked. It's not as if no one had asked them to go. That wasn't it, at all.

Maggie's boyfriend Silas had asked her months ago.

Rowan's girlfriend Ava had asked her two weeks ago, after Rowan had asked Ava a full month before that and Ava hadn't committed. The girl had been downright evasive.

Maggie and Rowan were depressed because, a few days earlier, they had each told these same two people, Silas and Ava, that they were so wack. That they would rather go to prom with (a dog—Maggie) (some pimply boy—Rowan).

Maggie had disinvited Silas because you are such a loser, she'd told him.

Ava had dumped Rowan at the last minute to go to prom with a guy she'd known since second grade. Didn't even tell me. Just ghosted me. I had to hear it from Vanessa, said Rowan. I waited at that bih's locker and got up in her face. She just looked at me. She just walked away.

Maggie had squeezed Rowan's hand. She knew how that must have hurt.

Now that the day of prom had arrived, Maggie was feeling sour and aggrieved, and she saw Rowan felt the same.

Our senior prom, and we aren't going, said Maggie.

Don't trip, girl, said Rowan. Such a stereotype.

Maggie saw Rowan was putting a good face on it, but she knew Rowan felt exactly the same.

They sat around sunk in gloom.

I'd rather go to prom with a dog than with that stupid Silas, said Maggie. Unnecessarily. She had just said it. He's such a loser.

I can't believe Ava, Rowan was muttering, meanwhile. She dumped me for a boy. She dumped me so she could go to prom with a boy. I should go with a boy. That'd show her. She slid further onto the base of her spine. What a LUG, she said.

We should go, said Maggie, a decision settling right down on her.

Rowan looked at her sidelong. What do you mean, we should go?

To prom. You and I. Let's do it. We'll show em.

We don't even have dresses, said Rowan. Well, she said, after a moment, at Maggie's look. I don't do no dress. But you know what I mean.

No, it'll be lit, said Maggie. Let's head to the Goodwill. The one on Forest Park.

Rowan was sitting up, her eyes snapping. Maggie saw she was getting the picture. Let's get ourselves the fugliest, tackiest prom dresses they sell. It's prom season. They'll have tons.

Makeovers! We'll go down to the mall and see which cosmetics counters are giving them. One of them must be. It's prom season.

The Galleria? Rowan looked doubtful. They kicked me out of that place last time I went.

Not the Galleria. Too upscale. We don't want upscale. South County. That will be just about perfect.

South County! said Rowan, jumping up off the bench. Makeovers!

And we will also get. . . Maggie said, her eyes narrowing, looking dangerous. . . .mani. . .pedis.

Rowan waved her hands gracefully in the air. And open-toed ugly shoes to show off the pedicures.

Totally, said Maggie.

Where? said Rowan. I want blood-red nails.

I want glitter ones. How about there? Maggie nodded her head across the park. From the bench, they could both just make out a narrow storefront far down the street. Ailys's Nail Salon, its sign read.

Looks pretty sketchy. Yaas, said Rowan.

May as well start with the mani-pedis. We're here, aren't we?

Suppose they clash with our dresses?

Kickass, said Maggie. Come on. Time to give ourselves a little glow-up.

They heaved themselves off the bench and made their way through the park and across the street. They peered together into the grimy plate glass of the salon window.

’You can get any color you want at Ailys's Nail Salon,’ Maggie read off the notice on the door.

Lame, said Rowan.

But now we know. Ailys is just a fancy way to spell Alice.

Bet she made it up, to look fancy and all, said Rowan.

The two went in. The interior was dim. Three nail stations marched down the right side of the narrow room. No one was sitting at them. From the left side, crowding out into the space, three spa-style pedicure chairs with attached foot baths. No one was lounging in those, either.

No Ailys, stage-whispered Rowan.

Hello!

The girls whirled around. A woman stood improbably just behind them.

I'm Ailys, said the woman, extending a hand to Maggie. Each nail was long and curving.

Maggie stepped closer to Rowan.

Are you here for manicures? You're in luck. I have an opening. Two openings. Ailys looked from Maggie to Rowan and back again. My, my, she said softly.

Maggie exchanged a puzzled look with Rowan.

To think. Two openings for walk-ins, Ailys elaborated. Hardly ever happens. Usually I'm booked solid. Today is your lucky day.

Maggie knew her eyes had gone skeptical, and she could see Rowan's had, too.

Have a seat. You sit there, Ailys directed Maggie. And you. She turned to Rowan and fixed her with an unsettling look. There.

Maggie moved to the nail station Ailys had pointed out, and slid behind the little vanity. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rowan was doing the same.

Now Ailys bustled around the place, turning up the lighting, bringing out a clutter of gear, arranging it on the surfaces of the two vanities. She pulled up a chair to Rowan's. I'll start with you, dear. What color?

Red, said Rowan.

We have many reds, said Ailys in a breathy voice.

Like yours, said Rowan, staring. Blood red. That's what I want.

My favorite color, said Ailys. She practically purred it. She whisked a little bottle out of