seymoure | Chapter 22

Chapter 22
“The Paisley Portal”

Harriett called Jim Nagasaki from the car. This guy was the only really good warlock she knew. Not that he was the only good person who was a warlock, but he was the best at being a warlock she knew.

She had tried him from the bar but got only his answering machine.

“Hey, this is Jim, I’m not going to tell you I’m not here because there is every chance I am and I’m just not picking up the phone. Take a chance, leave a message and I may get back to you. Blessed be, if that’s your thing.”

Second time the message ended she yelled, “Jim, this is Harriett Dante and I’ve got a life and death situation here. It involves Sebastian Claus, Baron Vaskania & Damien Kane. I’m on my cell.”

She clicked the phone off, but didn’t set it down. Seconds later the theme from John Carpenter’s “Halloween” began playing from her hand. She picked up.

“Harriett,” Said the voice on the other end of the line, “This is Jim. Did you mention Kane?”

“Jim, Kane is at this moment attacking Claus and his crew and they are in London. I have got to get there now, and a flight will take five hours. Then it will take another couple of hours to get to the hotel. They will be dead by then, and not in a good way.”

“There is only one way to do this, but it is dangerous,” the measured voice at the other end of the line intoned, “And I don’t think anybody else could pull it off for you.”

She sighed, and decided not to call him on that particular egotistical overstatement.

“What?” She nearly pleaded.

“It’s called the Paisley Portal. It was discovered by a warlock named Greg Boone in the 1960’s, hence the name.”

“What does it do, and what do I have to do. And keep the history lesson to the minimum.”

“You need to park your car and go inside a building,” Nagasaki told her.

The brakes squealed and she hit the curb. There was a diner five steps away and she leapt from the car with her bag and rushed in that irection.

“It has to have a solid door, no glass or anyway you could see through.”

She aimed straight for the restroom despite the glowering looks from the cook and waitress.

Someone was in the restroom so she had to wait a minute.

“When the door closes you can then open it and be where you are going, but only if you tell me where you are and where you are going.”

“I’ll be in the bathroom of ‘Miller’s Diner’ on Concord Street. I’m going to Vaskania’s suite at the Treadneedles hotel in London.”

“Oooh, I was there once. Nice digs.”

She banged on the door insistently, “What were you doing there?”

“I was in town for a conference and met the Baron and he invited me for drinks.”

“Get out, damn it!” She shouted, “I didn’t know either of you were . . . well. . .”

“He was interested in the girl I was with, which was lucky because I no longer was.”

Harriett turned and opened the door to the men’s restroom, just as a burly trucker was about to go in. He might never close his mouth again.

“Change one thing,” She said.

“Men’s bathroom?” He asked.

“You know me so well.”

“The danger here, is that the portal is so unstable.”

“Why?” She asked as she gripped the doorknob.

“Well, Greg found it while he was on an acid trip. His memories of the creation were . . . well, shaky at best.”

“Are you ready?” She said.

“Are you ready?” Asked the warlock.

“Let’s do this thing,” Dante said as she turned the doorknob.

The cook would never understand what happened to that woman who went into the men’s john and never came out.