Disclaimer Although this story does not completely revolve around Diane Duane's characters, all the concepts of Abdals, Wizardry, and the like were created by the wonderful and creative Diane Duane and not me. No sueing me! /disclaimer
Prologue
It's strange how a legacy can be passed on. How some prophecies can seem to be correct at first but then... they are fulfilled by someone else than the one who started them. Yes, it is possible to pass on a legacy, pass on a dream, even pass on power. Some Wizards know this but seldom do they pass a torch to another unless they die before something is finished. Even then though, even then the outcome is usually very different than the person who started the task intended it to end. This type of work is dangerous, but in this case necessary.
"Get out!" She screamed at her daughter.
"But mom-"
Beatrice's mother threw a plate at her. She ducked and it shattered as it hit the kitchen wall. "Get out you demon child!"
"Mom, it's not like that-"
"GET OUT!"
"We do the One's work mom! God's work!"
"Liar!" Beatrice's mother got ready to throw another plate, she closed her eyes and put her hands over her face, but... the yelling had stopped, she didn't hear a plate break, and it was cold. Beatrice opened her eyes to find herself under the canopy of a tree in the park not very far away from her partner's house. She hadn't even thought of accessing her teleportation spells, especially not this one. But there was no way in hell she could go back home so she decided to take a little stroll over to her partner's house who live about three and a half blocks away from where she stood. She would have just magically popped over to his doorstep but the stresses of the day had left her drained and the transit she had just done (even if by accident) had wasted even more of her precious energy.
She looked at her watch. Nine fifteen p.m. Beatrice hoped her partner didn't mind an unannounced visit from her on a Sunday night. She felt like crying. Her mother had just kicked her out of the house because she had discovered she was a wizard. What was she going to do now? She couldn't legally get a job for another year, her whole family would be against her now, her partner had enough on his own plate to deal with, and how would she explain something like this to her boyfriend? He didn't even know she was a wizard. About half a block away from her partner's house, the very distraught wizardess sat on the curb near a bus stop and put her hand out to summon her Wizard's manual so she could send a brief message of warning to her partner. Her heart skipped a beat in panic and she stopped the summoning immediately. Her boyfriend had her manual. To those who weren't wizards, the book sometime appeared as a novel. He was going to read the story. If it suddenly disappeared from his hands what would he think? "Damn my faulty memory." She said to herself. "That could have been bad."
Beatrice sighed and stood. She quickened her pace as thunder rolled in the distance. A storm had been threatening to roll in all day and it looked like it had finally gotten here. She reached the shelter of her partner's porch just as the rain started with the aid of a small wizardry. For a moment she just stood and watched her partner's happy family go about their mostly happy lives through his front window. She half smiled at them all and knocked hard on the door.
"I'll get it," Jeff (her partner) said from inside.
"Who is it dad?" His son asked.
"Don't know. Adam, Natalie, get to bed okay? You've got school tomorrow."
They muttered their goodnights unhappily and began to head up the stairs. Jeff caught them and gave them a ferocious hug and tickled their ribs. "Don't be so grumpy!" He said as he laughed with his children. They ran up the stairs. He opened the door, still smiling. "Oh... Hi Bee..." His smile went away. "Is everything okay?"
She shook her head fiercely as tears began to stream down her face. Her partner enveloped her in a tight hug. "Come on inside." Jeff said gently. "You can tell me all about it."
Chapter 1:
A brown haired teenage girl lay curled up amongst pillows and blankets on the couch. Jeff, dressed in his work attire, sighed and shook his head as he set two coffee cups down on top of the entertainment center. What am I going to do with you? He thought to himself. He shook her shoulder gently. "Bee, wake up please."
She rolled over to face him and opened her eyes. "Morning."
Jeff retrieved the coffee cups and handed Beatrice the one filled with black coffee. "No cream, no sugar."
"Thanks." She sipped the coffee and laughed. "This is gonna sound cheesy, but thanks... for everything." She took another sip of coffee to shut herself up.
He ruffled her hair playfully. "You're welcome. Bee, you're like family. I wouldn't have just left you out on the street after last night."
"I don't want to be a burden to you though."
Jeff took a sip of his coffee. "We're Wizards Bee, we'll think of something. For now though, I need to get to work and you need to get to school."
"Do I have to go?" She whined and made puppy dog eyes at her beloved mentor, partner, and friend.
"Yes."
Nathanael rolled over in bed, unable to fall asleep. That was certainly an interesting book he had borrowed from his girlfriend. After another few minutes of tossing and turning he flipped on his lamp. He ran his finger down the book's spine. A strange tingling sensation went up his finger, into his hand, and traveled up his arm into his shoulder. "A little old to be believing in magic aren't we Nate?" He picked up the book, opened it to the page with the Wizard's Oath on it. "Even still..." If it was real though, this was some pretty serious stuff he'd have to deal with as a Wizard. He wouldn't read the Oath out loud, not yet at least. He flicked out the light and decided he'd sleep on it.
With a muffled popping sound, Beatrice appeared in her old bedroom. Everything was just where she had left it. She hadn't told Jeff she would be raiding her old house today. It was a necessary discomfort though. She had left her schoolbooks there last night when she left. Later she'd try to persuade her partner to help her move the bigger stuff. For now though, she just changed into clean clothes and grabbed her backpack. With another pop she was inside the back corner of the library at her high school.
No one had noticed her. That of course, was due to a cloaking spell she had placed around the area before making the 'jump'. Beatrice waited until the first bell rang and headed off to her first period class, Honors English.
The girl next to her poked her in the shoulder with her pencil. "Beatrice, are you okay?" She whispered.
Beatrice stopped tapping her pencil on her desk and forced the look of nervousness to leave her face. "Yeah, fine." She tried to leave the thought of her mother screaming at her the previous night and pay attention to the teacher's lecture on "To Kill a Mockingbird" but she couldn't stay focused for much more than a second.
The teacher began drawing a diagram on the dry-erase board in the front of the class. "And if we look at some of the smaller details of the book-"
My threw the plate at me because... she was afraid of me!
"We will see that religion and British aristocracy are-"
"Get out!" "But mom, I'm really not a demon child, I really don't worship Satan."
"The basis of the Southern culture that Scout and Jem grew up in-"
"Mom please don't do this!" "Get away!" She looked like she wanted to kill me...
"On a different note-"
"I'll call your father! He'll know what to do with you!"
"Despite the fact that there was a lot of animosity towards blacks in the South-"
"Look mom!" "Shut up!" "NO! Mom, look! I'm wearing a cross mom! It doesn't burn me!"
"Many people don't know that-"
"GET OUT!"
"Many of the foods in Southern culture-"
Why'd you do this to me mom? Do you really think I'm a demon?
"Were brought to America by the black slaves. Also- Yes Max?"
"Why doesn't Boo ever come out of his house?" A boy in the back of the classroom asked.
"Nice try Max, but I'm not answering that. That is your homework tonight everyone!" Groans filled the room. Beatrice rolled her eyes. You would think by ninth grade people would have outgrown habits like that. "Answer Max's question!"
"Does hat mean I don't have to answer it Mrs. Allen, since everyone else will just answer it for me?"
"Again Max, nice try. But you have to do the homework too."
The bell rang. On to second period.
