Kendra Lane looked up from behind the front desk of her shop. Instead of a customer, she saw a man in a police uniform, who tucked his hat under his arm with distracted chivalry before marching to stand a precise two paces in front of her desk.

“Ms. Lane, I need you to come with me.”

Kendra tilted her head. “Am I under arrest?”

It was a possibility. This particular officer had personally staked out her shop several times, on suspicion of everything from selling drugs to harboring axe murderers. The fact that sometimes she was actually guilty of things, just not the things he thought, made interacting with him all sorts of tense.

“No,” Officer Worthing said. “I need to ask a favor.”

Kendra nodded. “Always happy to help. What is it?”

He glanced away, and shrugged. “You are often involved when things that are… difficult to write paperwork for happen.”

Kendra nodded again. If by that he meant ‘when otherworldly things happen’ then yes, she often was involved. Being as she was herself somewhat otherworldly.

Kendra was human, yes, but she was also a mage. One born with the natural ability to manipulate energy and the forces of magic. She had spent her formative years Underhill, in the Realm of the Willow Queen, learning to harness her natural talents. Once she was ready, she was placed with a family on Earth, and left to find her place. She’d found it here, in a place where the veil between Earth and Underhill was fragile and needed supervision. Kendra had sworn herself as a Veil Warden, to guard the veil against rifts and to find and help anyone who fell through said rifts, in either direction.

Her duty did often put her in unusual situations, and the officer now asking for her help, well, he’d found her in some of those situations. She didn’t fit in the placid little town he protected, and he could find no rational explanation as to why. So, he remained in a constant state of suspicion where she was concerned. She tried not to be offended, although she was amused when he was forced to take various “sensitivity training” courses when his superiors thought he was being just a bit too diligent in his surveillance of her and her shop.

And now he wanted her help.

If nothing else, this would prove to be interesting.

“There’s a situation. I think…” he shrugged. “I think you might be qualified to handle it. You might be the only one.” He frowned. “I don’t like bringing a civilian into this.”

“Can you tell me what this situation is?” Kendra asked. “I am honestly happy to help, but I need some idea what I’m helping with.”

Officer Worthing nodded. “Right. That’s fair. This is going to sound crazy, so can you let me finish before you start laughing in my face?”

Kendra inclinced her head. “I will even promise to turn away so that I do not laugh directly into your face.”

“Oh, thanks.” Worthing sighed. “No use stalling. We raided a warehouse down near the river district. Suspicion of drug smuggling.”

“You do realize,” Kendra said, “that your suspicions concerning me and drugs are utterly unfounded.”

“No, no that’s not why I’m here. Although all the herbs…”

“Tea, Officer. It’s tea.”

“You grow your own out back.”

“No one can get high off of lavendar. That I know of… I wouldn’t want to try it’s a laxative.”

“I did not know that.” He tilted his head. “Anyway. I’m not here about drugs. I’m here because we couldn’t get into the warehouse.”

Kendra blinked. “Okay?”

“This sounds nuts. I think the place may be… haunted or something.”

“Haunted.”

“I know, I know. Just hear me out!”

Kendra nodded. “I’m listening.”

She didn’t doubt the possibility of a haunting. It was that such a rational, by the book man had suggested it as a possibility that startled her.

“We approached the building and surrounded it. We locked down the entry area and offices. Everything normal, practically textbook. But when we tried to get past the entrance, it’s just, like something hits us. I literally felt like I was walking into a wall, and then I felt hands shoving me, pushing me away, but there was nothing there! One guy reported hearing screams, and most everyone got sick. Just, fell to the ground puking. Had to drag one guy out before he choked.”

“That sounds… bad,” Kendra said. “No chance of a gas leak?”

Worthing shook his head. “Maybe it’s whatever they were brewing up in there… that’s the official story, but…” he sighed. “We sent guys in with hazmat gear. Sealed breathing apparatus. There is no way any chemical in there could have affected them.”

“They couldn’t get through either.”

“Yeah.”

“And you think I have some idea how to get past this?”

“I do.” Worthing tapped the desk. “Your face just now. When I mentioned feeling hands. You flinched. You know what this is. Don’t you?”

Kendra nodded slowly. “I have an idea, yes, but I doubt you’d believe me.”

“Miss Lane, I came in here babbling about hauntings. I will literally believe any remotely rational thing you have to say. And to be honest, if you can get us past that door I’m willing to give up on the rational part.”

“That might be for the best. I’m not sure that rationality has anything to do with your situation.” Kendra leaned over and pulled a silver Artbin out from behind the desk. She kept the more portable of her implements in there. Heh. Tools for the Art, indeed.

“But you can help?”

“I can take a look,” Kendra said. “I can’t promise anything until I see the site, though.”

Worthing nodded. “That’s fair. Is that all you need?”

“Should be.” Kendra followed the detective out, sliding her little woodburned sign to say “Closed” and locking the door behind her. She only did that because the officer would question why if she didn’t. The shop could and would well protect itself.

They reached the warehouse after a somewhat awkward drive across town. Small talk wasn’t difficult for Kendra, but for some reason she didn’t feel like making things any easier on the man. He didn’t seem to know exactly what to say to her. He made a few false starts.

“So, how’s business?”

“Fine. It helps that my customers aren’t terrified of being arrested.”

“I really thought that one guy said he was a stoner.”

“His name is Stone.”

“What kind of a name is Stone?”

“I don’t know. What kind of a name is Paul?”

“Biblical.”

“Isn’t Christ the cornerstone of the church?”

Silence.

A few more minutes of driving. “So, uh, where exactly are you from?”

“Originally?”

“Yeah.”

Kendra shrugged. Problem was, she really didn’t know. Darcenon hadn’t bothered to pay much attention to things like what country he was in when he saved her from drowning while chained out in a storm.

“I don’t talk about it much, really,” Kendra said. “Before here, my parents ran a hotel in North Georgia. Nice place. Bit haunted.”

“Haunted.”

“Yeah. Good for business, you know. A mild haunting.”

“Right.”

More silence.

“So, the Lanes… you call them your parents. Who’s this Uncle Dar, then?” Worthing paused. “I know that sounds dumb, he could be your uncle obviously but I’ve never heard the Lanes talk about him really or seen him around them. And, you’ll pardon me but you don’t look like them.”

“Dar was my foster father when I was small,” Kendra said. “The Lanes adopted me when I was about thirteen.” At least she thought she was about that old. It was what they’d put on her birth certificate.

“What about your real parents?”

“The Lanes are quite real, thank you very much.”

“I meant your biological parents.”

Kendra shrugged. “No memory of them.”

And more silence.

About then, Officer Worthing pulled his patrol car to a stop in front of a warehouse. It looked like every other warehouse in the area, with the exception of the kicked over ant hill of police, fire fighters, paramedics and apparently any other uniform they could drag in to stare balefully at a building they couldn’t enter.

The place didn’t look all that haunted. But Kendra had never seen a haunted house that actually looked haunted. If they did, people generally wouldn’t buy and mvoe into them. It’d definitely cut into some realtors’ profits. She stepped out of the car and closed her eyes, trying to focus past the roiling mass of very upset humanity to see if she could sense anything useful.

Most haunted places had a chill to them to her senses, like putting her hand next to an open freezer. There was no such feeling from the warehouse, but there was something off about it.

“Getting anything?” Worthing asked.

“It’s not drugs,” Kendra said, “I don’t think. Can’t tell you what it is until I’m closer.”

“Of course.” He didn’t sound too disappointed, just resigned. Kendra couldn’t blame him for the sigh. She wouldn’t want to explain her presence to all these uniforms either. She followed tamely at his heels, hands tucked neatly into the handle of her Artbin.

Worthing stopped in front of a tall, saturnine man in a light tan suit.

“This the civilian expert you were talking about?” the man asked with doubt dripping from his voice.

Kendra smiled up at him guilessly. She knew she wasn’t exactly an impressive sight. She barely topped five feet, weighed maybe a hundred ten soaking wet, and her features were usually charitably described as “puckish.” Add in her worn and paint stained blue jeans and worn soft as a baby’s breath flannel shirt, and she looked more like a college student recently escaped the art studio than any kind of expert on anything. If someone had mage sight, well, she still wasn’t all that impressive but her Warden’s Sphere at least earned her some second and third glances.

“Captain,” Worthing said, “Meet Kendra Lane. Yeah, she’s my expert.”

“Lane? You mean that little witch out on the strip?”

Kendra grinned. “I’m not actually a witch.”

“Wicca, sorry.”

“Um, no, by religion I’m Christian.” Kendra smiled. “But my shop is on the strip, and I am here to help. Officer Worthing told me you’re having trouble getting past some kind of unusual effect? Even with hazmat gear?”

“Yeah. Freakiest damn shit I’ve ever seen. Couldn’t get three feet past that door myself. I’ve been in combat, kid, and I can’t get in there without puking out my guts.”

“Is there a rancid smell? Does everyone experience the same effect?”

“Smelled like blood,” the captain said. “Fresh blood and… offal. Ripped open bodies.” He crossed his arms. “I didn’t hear any screams like Hull did, though. And Worthing said something shoved him. Couple other guys, too. Got the bruises to prove it.”

“There are marks?” Kendra said. “May I see?”

“Will it help?”

“It might.” Kendra tilted her head. “I’m working from a process of elimination here. I don’t think you have a haunting here, it doesn’t quite track right.”

“Show her the bruise, Worthing,” the captain said. “If we’re going all Poltergeist on this thing we might as well go whole hog.”

Worthing opened his shirt and lifted the undershirt, revealing a dark purple bruise in the distinct shape of a handprint. Something about it disturbed Kendra. She lifted her hand towards the mark for comparison.

“Small,” she said, “a child, or a woman even more petite than me.”

“They come smaller than you?” Worthing asked.

“Maybe. I’ve heard stories.” Kendra looked at the building. “Might be a warding… some kind of barrier. Um.” She tried to translate mage knowledge into normal person speak. “Think like a force field.”

“Force fields now?”

“Maybe. Let me see if I can get past.” Kendra said.

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable letting you do that,” the captain said. “Letting you ogle Worthing is one thing, sending you into that mess alone… nope.”

“What do you have to lose?” Kendra asked. “I promise, I’ll do nothing more than try to approach the door. I won’t even go past it. I need to see what you’re dealing with before I can even say if I’m the one to help you.”

“What exactly is your expertise?” the captain asked.

Kendra considered several responses, discarded them as disingenuous, and decided to go with something approaching the truth.

“I have considerable experience dealing with hauntings, poltergeists, and infernal manifestations,” Kendra said. “You might call me a paranormal expert I guess.”

“Paranormal. So, what, you’re psychic?”

“Not exactly…” Kendra trailed off, “but close enough for government work I guess.”

The captain looked over at Worthing. “You really think this little joker will be useful?”

“I know she can help,” Worthing said. “She’s a pain in the ass and she’s weird as snake shoes, but… when she says she’ll help, she helps.”

The captain looked Kendra up and down. “You go in no further than the closed door. You do not open the door. Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

The captain looked at Worthing. “You brought her in. You keep tabs on her. She gets hurt, it’s on you. She does something she shouldn’t, it’s on you.”

Worthing nodded.

“Well, go get me something useful.”

Kendra nodded and bowed slightly over her case. She turned and followed Officer Worthing into the building. The entryway had two doors, one large and garage style, the other small and splintered. She saw office materials, stacks of papers and filing cabinets, through the door.

“Anything weird in there?” she asked.

“Nope. Paperwork, most of it old.”

“Huh.” Kendra turned to the other door. “So this is the place?”

“Yep.”

Kendra approached the door. Three steps away, nothing. Two steps, she felt uneasy. One step and Kendra collapsed to the ground.

Pain.

Rage, fear, terror.

Pain.

The sound of screams and rending flesh.

Red. White. Red. Pain.

White.

Kendra gasped and threw herself backwards, slamming into Worthing’s legs as she went. They ended up sprawled in a tangled mess some feet from the door. Kendra didn’t care. She was too busy sobbing helplessly and trying to breathe. It wasn’t her most successful endeavor.

“Kendra? Lane, are you all right?”

Kendra forced a deep breath through her nose and out her mouth. Then, she did it again, vaguely whapping her hand in the direction of the voice.

“I’m fine,” Kendra said. “Fine. Just. Okay.” She collected herself. “I can talk to your captain now.”

“You know what this is?”

“Yeah.” Kendra cursed softly under her breath in Elvish, then in Dwarfish for good measure. Then she said, “You won’t like it. And explaining is going to be all kinds of fun.”

“Bad?”

“Very.”

Kendra glanced at the door and shuddered. She did know what this was. A haunting would be easy to deal with, comparatively. The place was tainted, desecrated by magics dark enough that even the near presence of them sickened her. And more, the taint was strong enough to affect mundane humans. There was no statistical way that every person who’d tried to enter was Sensitive. At least some of them had to be low sensitivity. Yet they had been affected across the board. That meant not only was the effect strong, it was ongoing. Something was powering it.

And she had to convince a mundane authority to let her deal with it.

And then, she had to actually deal with it.

Kendra thankfully accepted a wet wipe from a nearby fire fighter, and a small bottle of water. She wiped her face clean of sweat and tears and then took a quick drink. She used the moment to collect herself. She had to project confidence and competence. She couldn’t be the eccentric little shop keeper; she had to be the Veil Warden.

She looked around at the mass of people. All professionals, all very good at what they did, and all of them stymied by something they had no hope of understanding or dealing with. They had to be frustrated.

The captain followed Worthing over from where he and several others had been consulting. Kendra was reminded of watching General Cade and the Champion Autumn consulting with various visiting leaders. The same posturing, the same commiseration.

Okay. Just like reporting to the General. Wait. Cade freaking terrified her. Bad thought. Kendra shook her head in a typical “clearing the cobwebs” motion and decided that this would be different because compared to Cade this guy was an infant. He could not possibly be as practiced with the Eyebrow of Doom or the snarky commentary as the General of the Willow Queen’s Court.

“Heard you had some trouble,” the captain said.

“I was unprepared for the intensity of the barrier,” Kendra admitted. “I guess I should have realized it would be… bad, but…” she lifted and dropped one shoulder. “What’s the saying about hindsight?”

“Hindsight is 20/20,” Worthing supplied.

“Right, that,” Kendra said. “I know what it is. I can circumvent it, slightly.”

“What is it, then?”

“I thought at first it was a warding, designed to keep unwanted interest away. It’s not.” Kendra glanced back to the building and shuddered. A warding she could deal with, even one this strong. “This is… difficult to explain. The effect is a taint, a kind of toxin or poison.”

“Shouldn’t the suits protect us?”

“It’s not a strictly physical effect,” Kendra said. “This taint affects the mind, the emotions. And it is deadly. Your reactions protect you.”

“A psychic toxin. Riiiiiight,” the captain said.

“I know it sounds unlikely,” Kendra said, “but, well, you’ve felt the effects yourself.”

The captain couldn’t deny that, and he couldn’t deny that hazmat units weren’t working. “Okay, then, you said you can circumvent this toxin?”

“To a small degree, yes,” Kendra said. “I can protect myself and two, three others.”

“Yourself.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re saying you have to go in.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You can’t just shut this thing down from the outside?”

Kendra shook her head. “No. There is something feeding it. Someone may be alive in there.”

“How do I know you’re not just spouting a bunch of new age nonsense?”

“Well, you’ve seen I’m affected by the tainted area,” Kendra said. “The proof of my words is that I will be able to take a small group in. What does it matter how I accomplish the task, so long as it is done?”

The captain grumbled. “Still don’t like sending a civilian in.”

“I’ll look after her,” Worthing said.

“You’re volunteering? Even hearing all this crazy talk?” the captain said.

“I brought her in,” Worthing said, “Wouldn’t have done that if I didn’t think she could do the job.”

“Okay then.” The captain looked around. “I’m going on record as not liking this. But… I’m also out of options. So fine. Ms. Lane, you take Worthing here, and Hull, he got in the farthest and… Worthing, grab yourself a fire fighter on your way in. Just in case there’s more than bad juju in there.”

Worthing and Kendra both nodded. Worthing approached Hull first. Hull was a large man with broad shoulders who probably needed his Kevlar vest specially ordered to fit him. He listened to Worthing’s explanation quietly, and then glanced down at Kendra.

“You think you can get us past this… whatever it is?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. And those screams I heard? You think it might be someone in there needs help?”

“I think it’s possible, yes.”

Hull nodded. “Count me in, then.”

“Thank you,” Kendra said.

Their next stop was next to the fire truck. A fire fighter named Strand jumped at the chance to come in. He moonlighted as a paramedic, which was ideal. He was tall, lanky, and every bit as red haired as Kendra.

“Us gingers gotta stick together, hey?” he joked, elbowing her gently.

Kendra nodded and grinned back at him.

“This it?” Hull asked.

Kendra sighed. “Four individuals is pushing the limit of my ability. Any more and I might lose it with us too deep in to get out in one piece.”

“You sure you can get four?” Worthing asked.

“Yeah.” Kendra took a deep breath. “Four I can do.”

She was really, truly grateful that no one asked exactly what it was she was going to do.

They stopped at the door. Kendra folded herself to the ground and opened the Artbin. The three men stood around her, glancing nervously at the door. Kendra smiled reassuringly and pawed through her materials. This was going to take a physical charm, something she could channel her talent through. Something simple, something solid. Her Silver caught the light, the tiny mirror reflecting the florescent lights above. Ah, perfect.

She pulled several hanks of cord from the bin. One strand, braided, cut into three to represent their unity as protectors of the populace. Colors… red, for sacrifice, blue for courage and… hm. Silver. For purity, for purpose. Yes. She braided the strands together, humming softly to set the protective spells in place. Once she had the cord braided, she turned and asked for Worthing’s wrist.

He hesitated only a brief moment before offering his left wrist. She tied a lenght of cord around his wrist, using a deceptively complex knot which symbolized protection. She tied a tiny bell into the knot. She then turned to Hull.

“These friendship bracelets are going to do what, now?” he asked.

“They serve as a point of focus for me,” Kendra explained. “I’ll be… blocking? Filtering? I’m not sure of the most accurate term here. I’ll be making it possible for us to enter, and it’s easier if I have a physical focus to work through.”

“So it’s some kind of mind over matter thing?” Strand asked, while Kendra repeated the knot and added the tiny bells.

“I suppose so,” Kendra said.

“English isn’t your first language, is it?” Hull guessed.

“It is not.”

“What is?” Worthing asked, eager as always for clues to Kendra’s elusive past.

Kendra just smirked at Worthing. She wasn’t going to make it that easy on him. She closed her Artbin and stood.

“I need everyone’s hands for just a second,” she said, “to set the process.”

She figured ‘process’ would be easier for them to accept than ‘spell’ and it was just as accurate a term, really. A spell was nothing more than a process to guide the mind through manipulating magic.

Three hands were held out to her. She noticed with some interest that Worthing offered his hand palm up, the others palm down. She held her hand over theirs, and closed her eyes. She intoned softly, in Elvish becuase that’s how she first learned spellwork. The words were mostly tonal nonsense, a children’s rhyme Dar had taught her. Her focus narrowed to those three twists of cord and the magic they needed to house.

Protective magics came fairly naturally to her. They were the first she’d learned, gleaned from the magics of her own Silver. She only needed to replicate the spell that kept mental and emotional assaults from reaching her in the Silver to the simpler bands. Mystical copy/paste, really. The men helped by keeping quiet.

At least until each bell chimed, crystal clear, in sequence as each spell set.

“I did not move my hand,” Hull insisted.

“Me either,” said Strand.

Kendra opened her eyes and grinned at them. Truth be told, their muscles might well have twitched being held in one position for nearly a minute. It was more fun to let them wonder.

“I’m ready,” she said. “Let’s go.”

“Are you sure?” Worthing asked, glancing at the still closed door.

Kendra nodded. “Absolutely.”

She had to be. At least ninety percent of magic was confidence. If the caster didn’t believe a spell would work, it would fail. It didn’t matter whether she was the most humble hedge witch or the most powerful Archmage in existence. Belief was everything.

Kendra believed. She believed she would protect these men who put their lives, their sanity, in her hands. She believed she would get them through this. They trusted her. She trusted in her magic. She trusted her self. This was something she could do. Had trained her whole life to do.

Chin high, breath steady, Kendra walked up to the double doors and opened them. She felt, at the edge of her perception, that rising tide of pain and terror. She made herself in her mind a stone, and let the tide wash over and around her. She would remain steadfast. She was the anchor. She had to hold.

“Let’s go,” Kendra said.

“It’s like… there’s nothing…” Hull muttered.

“Anyone feel anything?” Worthing asked, and received two negative responses.

“Do you have to go first?” Strand asked her. “You’re not wearing any kind of protective gear.”

Actually she was, but that would be hard to explain.

“As long as I’m with you, it doesn’t matter who goes first,” Kendra said. “To be honest, I’m just as happy to have you and your Kevlar between me and whatever physical threats might be in there.”

“Alright,” Worthing said, “Then I’ll take point, Lane you follow me, and you two bring up the rear. Sound good?”

Nods all around. Kendra fell into place with her Artbin under one arm and her Silver chiming free from the other wrist. She felt a twist of guilt. These men expected a drug lab, or something. Something human, something they’ve been trained to deal with. The barrier is weird but they don’t realize, yet, that the barrier is the least of it. Kendra knew there were horrors inside that warehouse. Only vile acts, torture and depravity and horror, can form a barrier such as the one she held back.

Kendra knew it was going to be bad. Nightmares for weeks bad. And she had no idea how to warn them. So, she kept quiet and braced herself and tried to think of contingencies if one of them broke. If they ran. Could she shield them long enough to escape? Probably. What if they broke and ran further in? She’d have to catch up. She wasn’t a fast runner; she’d have to drop her gear and run full out. What if they got violent? She didn’t have the juice to keep up the protections and manage a calming spell. She’d just have to trust them. Trust their training and their professionalism. It wasn’t comfortable. But she was asking them to trust her, so she figured it was at least fair.

The warehouse beyond the door had been divided into smaller rooms. It was weird, because it wasn’t supposed to be that way; it was supposed to be one huge room. So the smaller hall right outside the door was almost three stories high, but just barely wide enough for Kendra to stretch her arms out to touch the opposite walls. It made her feel unsettled, like the offset proportions were some kind of optical illusion. Kendra noticed the three men poking the walls and looking up uneasily, so it wasn’t just her senses that were offended.

The first hallway wasn’t bad. It was just a bare wood and concrete hallway with flickering lights. Nothing special. They didn’t hear any screams. Kendra wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. None of them spoke. There was a single door, at the end of the hallway on the right. It wasn’t locked. Worthing turned the knob, and then hesitated, and then pushed the door open.

The smell of blood, coppery and dense, flooded the corridor.