Sneeze Fart Shift: Book 4

“I can’t believe you drew me back into this,” the elder witch Cyrilla complained.

Most of the witches that Veronica had encountered looked like kindergarten teachers, fresh out of college and unprepared for what their jobs would entail.

But witches do age, and Cyrilla had bypassed her generational youth.

Her long, iron-grey hair was frizzy and hung to her waist. Her large milky blue eyes were flanked by crow’s feet, and her lips were nonexistent. Dressed in a colorful peasant skirt and dangling earrings. Cyrilla reminded Veronica of an aging hippy.

“We made this mess, now it’s our job to clean it up,” Veronica gently reminded her, “Besides, you got a free trip to Transylvania.”

“I had no desire to come to Transylvania the first time,” Cyrilla snapped, “It was either come along or be exposed for abuse of magic.”

As if on cue, the large muscular man who lingered behind them cried, “Meow.”

“Hush now, Tom, it shouldn’t be much further,” Cyrilla soothed him.

Veronica gazed over her shoulder to admire the muscular physique of the figure that lumbered behind them. “It seems as if you haven’t learned your lesson.” Veronica chided her.

“He’s for protection,” Cyrilla sniffed, then added, “And the occasional party.”

“He’s available for parties?” Veronica asked, her brow rising with interest, “What sort of parties?”

“Oh, birthday parties, bachelorette parties; divorces,” Cyrilla began to rattle off enthusiastically, before giving a dismissive wave in the air. “I’ll give you our business card after we reseal the crypt.”

Veronica lifted her torch; the fire at the tip comprised eternal fire, the only flame that could survive the airless tunnel they were navigating. If Cyrilla hadn’t cast the “breath of life” spell, the three of them would have passed out hours ago.

They were navigating tunnels deep into the earth, where roots didn’t extend, and moisture dissipated because they were so close to the earth’s core, where life wasn’t encouraged. At this stage of the world’s conception, the idea of life had not yet existed.

Veronica supposed the vampires had been wise in deciding where to seal their ancients, known as The Seven, given the number of sins against humanity they had embodied.

Only seven vampires had been required to observe humanity when the world was small.

In the beginning, it seemed as if The Seven had been content to serve, but after centuries of never hearing from Helios or Luna, they began to question the gods' existence and were determined to become gods themselves.

Veronica had no reserves when she had been approached about unsealing the tomb where The Seven were encrypted. She, too, had lost faith in the gods and deduced that the stories about the Seven were nothing more than a stereotypical legend that vampires found useful.

It wasn’t until Veronica met Queen Anna that she realized her mistake. Luna’s toils through the werewolf queen restored Veronica’s faith and made her realize that the gods were very present, just silent.

Most of their journey had been brown clay and rock, but the walls suddenly came to life with colorful hieroglyphs.

Veronica had noticed them on her first visit but had not paid much heed; she had been too focused on completing her task, but now she questioned Cyrilla about them.

“What are these hieroglyphs depicting?” she asked, pausing, so the light from her torch illuminated the seven-foot snake that loomed menacingly with its tail posed, warning the world it was about to strike.

When Cyrilla’s male companion gazed at the snake, he released a long his, curled his fingers into claws, and attempted to bat at the snake to no avail.

“Hush, Tom,” Cyrilla said, reaching for Tom’s elbow to prevent him from busting his knuckles against the hardened dirt. “It’s nothing more than a picture, see?” she said, flattening out her palm and pressing it against the snake’s fattened mid-section.

Reluctantly, Tom reached out and touched the serpent as well, prepared to retreat at the first sign of movement. After a few moments, the enchanted cat/man seemed to realize the snake was not real and visibly relaxed.

“That’s a depiction of the first Leviathan,” Cyrilla explained, as she continued to the next depiction that showed a tail rattling, “One day, it raised its tail, making the world aware and breaking the silence. The sound it made later became referred to as a “death rattle,” because it’s similar to the sound that every living creature makes before it takes its final breath.”

Veronica recalled the sound that rang through the air a few nights before and felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand out straight.

Cyrilla moved on to the next depiction, “Before sound, only body language existed. Sound allowed creatures to express their feelings and intentions outside of their collective units, which caused harmony throughout nature.”

Veronica gazed at the depiction of a black and white bird, apparently chirping at a nearby elephant, which paid apt attention by raising the flap of its ear.

“Sound itself became a language, which evolved into words. The first word uttered was “Om,” Cyrilla said, turning her light onto a rather crude depiction of a creature standing upright, which Veronica could only assume was a human.

Cyrilla continued to the next hieroglyph, which showed people holding hands next to another couple engaged in combat apparitions with enlarged foreheads, beady eyes, and extended fangs loomed over them, watching.

“It was the vampires who realized that words had power. The power to unite or create division, and if used carefully, they had the power to sway others.” She passed her torch to the hieroglyph, which depicted humans lined up and ready to take instructions from the long-fanged being hovering over them.

“After learning the power of manipulation, the Seven began using the humans to satisfy their desires,” Cyrilla spoke as she passed to the next picture of a vampire that had crowned himself king, forcing the humans to bow down to him.

“The humans grew tired of the vampires’ rule since the vampires had no concern for human needs. So, humanity began plotting against them, developing tactics that may not have killed the vampires but would put them out of commission, which led to the first draining.” Cyrilla paused at the painting of a vampire holding a limp body.

“That was when The Seven learned that draining humans offered them fleeting, but sensational powers, so they began draining humans by the dozens, introducing the world to the first deadly sin; greed,” the witch said, stopping at a depiction of a pile of bodies, each with two tiny red dots just where the jugular would be located.

“I thought Leviathan brought greed into the world,” Veronica interrupted.

“No, it was the leviathan’s nature to devour,” Cyrilla countered, “They do so out of impulse, the vampires were very conscious of what they were doing. It was their greed that conjured their lust for power,” she said, showing a vampire tossing aside an already limp body as it drooled over a live human who was cowering in fear. “It was the vampires who established The Seven Deadly Sins,” Cyrilla concluded as we passed through a gallery of hieroglyphs filled with savagery.

“Sloth was their downfall,” Cyrilla continued, raising her torch to expose a vampire levitating a human. “The Seven drained their physical strength, relying on their temporary superpowers to forge for their supper and to force others to do their bidding. By this time, the world had evolved, and the vampire population had expanded past The Seven.” Cyrilla moved on to a simple painting of the sun and the moon. “The other vampires recognized Luna and Helios as the creators and learned about their love for the human species, so they heeded their gods’ command to take down The Seven.”

Cyrilla’s light shone on the final hieroglyph of Vampires and what appeared to be humans dressed in robes, imprisoning The Seven. “The Seven had grown physically weak, so the vampires had kept them occupied long enough for the powers acquired from their latest feed to wear off. Entrapping them was not a problem, but there was no rock or metal forged strong enough to hold The Seven indefinitely, so they sought out enlightened members of the human species who had discovered the power of words to help them contain The Seven. The seal on this tomb was the first spell cast.”

“I assume these enlightened humans were the first witches?” Veronica ventured.

Cyrilla nodded, “Giving witches a purpose as guardians of the balance,” then Cyrilla turned to the large disk that had been splintered, and in a sardonic tone she quipped, “Oh, and here is the seal, complete with a warning that it should never be tampered with.”

“I recognized it, Cyrilla, thank you,” Veronica said rigidly. “I can’t undo the past, but I can control the present.”

“Are you sure about that?” Cyrilla said, stepping aside, “That chamber looks pretty empty,” gesturing to the vacant thrones.

“That’s impossible,” Veronica cried out, “They hardly had the strength to move their mouths.”

“Why did you need them to speak anyhow?” Cyrilla asked.

“The Leviathan wanted to manipulate an alpha female wolf into slaughtering her own daughter,” Veronica said, not putting much feeling behind the statement.

Cyrilla shook her head, “Bad intentions behind an action can only produce negative results.”

“Tell that to the wealthy,” Veronica shot at her.

“I don’t need to. Have you met any of their offspring?” Cyrilla retorted. “Bad things happen to good people in a matter of moments, while bad things happen to bad people over time.”

“I realize that now,” Veronica grumbled as she balanced herself on the loose rocks to gain access to the tomb, feeling Cyrilla follow along, nipping at her heels.

“I knew they were dangerous, but I thought it was safe,” Veronica proceeded, “The one who spoke could hardly move his rotten tongue.”

“His throat must have been awfully dry,” Cyrilla said, not quite ready to let Veronica off the hook, “I suppose you brought him a little drink…”

“It was only a couple of pints of blood.” Veronica snapped defensively, “Hardly enough to get the wheels in his head turning.”

“Obviously, it was plenty,” Cyrilla said as they stepped through the fracture and entered the empty room that held seven thrones.

Veronica shot Cyrilla a dirty look but said nothing because she had run out of excuses. She brushed off the loose pebbles that had become embedded in her hands as she turned to Cyrilla, “They couldn’t have gone far. All we need to do is find them and put them back.”

Cyrilla rolled her eyes to the ceiling and sighed heavily as she turned to exit the empty chamber, but as her toes put pressure on a stone the two of them had managed to overstep on their way in, there was a rumbling from above their heads.

Before either woman had a moment to process what was happening, a metal grid dropped from far above, covering the crevasse they had entered, barring their exit.

“They must have known someone would return and set a trap,” Cyrilla said, stating the obvious.

Tom, who had been entertaining himself by bouncing the light from his torch off the walls, was startled by the sound and came running over.

“Meow?” he cried, dropping his torch and latching onto the metal gate.

“It’s going to be fine, Tom,” Cyrilla told him in a soothing tone as she smoothed back his walnut locks.

“Yowl,” Tom cried in response to demonstrate his disbelief.

Veronica pulled at the gate, confident her supernatural strength would at least bend the bars, but they remained unmoved. “What is this made of?” Veronica asked as she increased her efforts.

Veronica could see Cyrilla studying the material from the corner of her eye, even flicking her tongue out to taste it. “The rock and metal here are so deep in the dirt that they have never been forged,” Cyrilla concluded after her inspection.

For the first time in her life, Veronica experienced fatigue. She momentarily surrendered her hold on the gate. “Is there any way to manipulate it?” she asked the witch.

“The elements are all-natural, so I suppose so, but since it’s foreign to me, it may take some time,” Cyrilla told her.

“How much time?” Veronica pressed. The sidelong look that Cyrilla gave her told Veronica that the witch was uncertain.

“We need to call for help,” Veronica said.

“Conjuring cell phone reception from the center of the earth is beyond my abilities,” Cyrilla said.

“There must be a way,” Veronica said stubbornly, gazing around the room.

“Even if we managed to contact somebody, would either one of us be able to give them proper directions?” Cyrilla posed.

“I suppose not.” Veronica snapped, remembering all the natural loopholes they had to surpass just to enter the tunnel that led to the chamber. Just as a feeling of hopelessness began to creep over her, Cyrilla brightened up, “We can use Tom.”

“Use Tom for what?” Veronica spat, gazing at Tom’s very handsome, but clueless face.

“Well, I can’t escort Tom everywhere.” Cyrilla reasoned, “And most of my clients would prefer that their party favor didn’t show up at their doors with a female acquaintance, so I cast a spell on him. Tom can overcome any obstacle that would prevent him from reaching his destined location.”

“Any location?” Veronica pressed.

“Any location,” Cyrilla assured her, “I am very professional and always deliver.”

“As you pointed out, we can’t alert anyone to our location.” Veronica reminded her.

“That is not my intention,” Cyrilla informed her. “I suppose we ought to warn someone that The Seven have escaped. Perhaps our warning will send a little good karma our way.” She paused, “I just haven’t decided who would find the information the most useful.”

A thought occurred to Veronica then. “You said Tom can go anywhere?”

“Yep, anywhere,” Cyrilla confirmed, “With the exception of volcanoes, he would never survive. Besides, there is no address for the inside of a volcano.”

“Of course not,” Veronica agreed. “Do you think he can make it to America?”

Cyrilla shrugged, “He made it there a time or two, though I have no idea how he acquired a ticket.”

Veronica thought about this for a moment, then shook away any suggestive thoughts before garnering Tom’s attention. “Tom, come over here,” she said, reaching into the satchel she had brought, and extracting the sharpie marker she had brought along to mark the journey.

Tom gave Cyrilla a cautious look before sidling over to where Veronica stood, her arms stretched through the square grid.

Veronica studied Tom’s smooth, hairless chest as she decided how to word her message.

“Gawking will cost you extra.” Cyrilla quipped, prompting Veronica into action.

“Who are you writing to?” Cyrilla asked with mild interest as Veronica put the finishing touches on her note.

“I think I know where the ancients are headed,” Veronica informed her. “The seed of a new society rests in a little town named Silverdale. I am writing to the werewolf queen who resides there.”

“I have heard stories about Silverdale and their queen,” Cyrilla revealed. “Rumor has it she is favored by Luna. I suppose we can hope that Luna’s gaze can reach us down here. Write down the address and send him back over so I can put a stamp on him.”

Veronica had used up the whole of Tom’s chest, so she hurried to scribble Anna’s address on his bicep. After she was done, Cyrilla called him back over by making a clicking sound with her tongue.

Veronica watched as Cyrilla whispered a few words before licking her palm and pressing it against Tom’s arm, where she had written Anna’s address.

Suddenly, Tom’s eyes sharpened, and his spine straightened as he threw his shoulders back. Wordlessly, he knelt to retrieve his torch. Once he had his torch to light the way, he spun on his heel and began marching back into the darkness.

Veronica and Cyrilla watched him until the light from his torch was nothing more than a microscopic dot in the distance.

“Are you sure he will make it?” Veronica asked, feeling a desperate need for reassurance, which was a feeling she wasn’t accustomed to and hoped would pass quickly.

“Of course, he will,” Cyrilla stated confidently, “Though I doubt they will allow him to bring a boom box on a plane.” She paused and shrugged as she said, “I suppose he will just have to find one along the way.”

Veronica returned her attention to the witch, feeling perplexed. “What would he need a boom box for?”