Who would have thought that one day he’d be grateful to Francine, the witch who had very nearly killed him and his siblings over two decades ago? After Francine’s well-deserved death, he’d had the foresight to appropriate any of her possessions related to witchcraft. Francine’s books and tools had become the foundation for his quest to regain his powers. A quest he’d won. Though he could never truly forgive Francine, he could appreciate her research and her dedication to her craft.
It didn’t take long until he’d reached the shack in which the stranger had disappeared. Everything was quiet. Still, he entered with caution. The interior was empty. Wes pulled a flashlight from his pocket and pointed it at the stone boulder. At first, he couldn’t see the dagger that was carved into the stone, but when he shifted the light, he recognized it. He hadn’t imagined it.
According to Francine’s book, the portal, which worked as some sort of transporter, opened only to the touch of a Stealth Guardian. However, Wesley had experimented with a variety of spells that could unlock all kinds of locks, and he knew just what this particular lock wanted.
He himself had to become the key. It was the only way in. But he was prepared.
Chanting softly, Wes started putting himself into a trance, while focusing on the face of the stranger he’d burned into his mind. He felt his facial muscles move, his skin shift and stretch, his hands curl and uncurl, his breathing change.
“I am you,” he continued his mantra. “I am you. I am you.”
Gently he placed his palm over the carving. Beneath it, he felt warmth. It turned hotter with every second, but he didn’t dare open his eyes, didn’t dare distract himself. He only thought of the stranger and that he was like him.
Something suddenly shifted under his hand, and a second later, he felt nothing. He opened his eyes. The boulder was gone.
Not losing a moment, he stepped into the portal that had opened before him and looked around for any buttons or signs, anything that would tell him how to operate the portal and close the opening.
But there was nothing. The walls on the inside of the portal were smooth, free of indentations.
How the hell was he going to get anywhere now? It was like that time he’d been traveling with some of his college buddies, and had run out of money and gotten stranded. Where had that been? Yeah, somewhere on the East Coast.
Suddenly the boulder moved and closed the opening. He was hurled into the air, floating, losing his balance.
“Oh shit!”
But it was too late now. The portal was in operation.
He could only hope that he wasn’t going to end up in hell.