It occurs to me to point out, gentle reader, that my mother wasn’t completely obsessed with her quest for knowledge of her staff, her Angel and her magic. She was, for the most part, a well-rounded young woman with an active social life. She still had a few friends and relationships with both Faery and humans, though she was never particularly close to any of them. She had learned not to discuss her Angel for fear of accusations of insanity, or her staff for fear of drawing too much attention to it. Even her advancing druid magic was seen as little more than a curiosity, like an obscure hobby that nobody else gets unless they share it.
Except nobody did.
Jacob was different. When Catriona opened up to him, he did not judge her sanity. If she said she saw a sort-of-Angel who gave her the staff and mended her village with druid magic, then Jacob was prepared to accept it. After all, as Cat herself argued, she had clearly got her staff from somewhere – it could hardly have just been lying around, unnoticed for who knows how long.
As for the ‘miraculous’ restoration of her home, he said, “I don’t believe miracles really happen.”
“Miracles can happen if people make them happen,” Catriona countered.
Still, from what Jacob had seen Catriona do with druid magic – tending Renjaf’s grounds and getting the plants to restrain him – it didn’t seem an unreasonable extrapolation. He was only sorry that the stubborn old goat in his tower was standing in the way of something so crucial to Cat when co-operating would cost him next to nothing. He promised to help her in any way he could, but for now, Catriona had no further ideas of how she was going to get her hands on that book.
There did not seem to be any other copies of the book. From what Catriona could gather, it had never been what one could call popular, being considered a fringe text at best, and the ravings of a madman at worst. However, given how quick people were to question her own sanity, she wasn’t willing to dismiss the anonymous author of Shifting Stars so easily.
*****
Catriona’s friendship with Jacob grew strong over the following weeks and months, even to the point of moving in together. Although it was never a romantic relationship as such, she was always quite happy to get physical with the right person under the right circumstances. Indeed, there were a few more incidents of her pocket dimension swallowing their clothes, which led them to take full advantage.
Everyday life continued for the best part of a year until Cat came home from college mid-afternoon, one day, and was surprised to find Jacob there.
“What are you doing home?” she asked. “You were going all the way out to old Renjaf’s place, weren’t you? I thought you’d be delivering for an hour or so, yet.”
“Demon attack near Compton,” he told her. “We don’t deliver to outlying areas when there’s a demon attack – it’s company policy to keep us safe.”
Catriona narrowed her eyes as she thought about the implications of this, and the beginnings of an idea took shape in her mind.
“So, how will Renjaf get his stuff?”
“Well, if they catch the demon tonight, I’ll have to go out there tomorrow, instead.”
“What if they don’t catch the demon that quickly?”
“They usually do,” Jacob said, not sure where his friend was going with this.
“Yes, but sometimes it can be days, can’t it?”
“Sometimes,” Jacob agreed.
“So, what would happen to Renjaf’s delivery if you couldn’t get through?”
“Then he’d get a magical message telling him his stuff is being held securely in Compton ready for him to collect at his convenience.”
“Or, I suppose, inconvenience, in his case,” Cat mused.
Jacob laughed, “You’re not wrong! He gave our reception workers a right earful the last time. He hates leaving his tower.”
“Could he authorise someone else to pick up his delivery on his behalf?” she wondered.
“In principle, yes,” Jacob agreed, nodding, “but I don’t think he has anyone to ask. I mean, who’s going to help out that grumpy old miser?”
“I am!” Cat declared. She glanced at her timepiece and did a rough calculation in her head. “His tower isn’t all that far as the falcon flies. If I’m quick, I should have time to fly there, get his permission, fly back and deliver his stuff by nightfall!”
“You’re not serious!”
“Of course I am! Think about it: you said yourself he hates leaving his tower. If I save him the trouble, get him his delivery on time – within a few hours, anyway – he might just be grateful enough to give me Shifting Stars!”
“But how will you carry his stuff from the town centre to his tower?”
“Easy! I’ll just shove it all in my pocket dimension. I’m getting better at that.”
“Cat,” Jacob broached, carefully, “I don’t want to dampen your enthusiasm, but the way our clothes keep popping in and out of your pocket dimension, I’m not sure it's as stable as you’d like to think.”
Catriona smiled, moved over to Jacob and, to his astonishment, kissed him full on the lips. She broke the kiss, shifted her head slightly and whispered in his ear, “It’s so sweet that you still think those were accidents.”
Jacob stepped back and gasped, “They were deliberate?”
Cat nodded.
“All of them?”
“Yes!” she assured him. “Well,” she amended, “most of them. It’ll be fine…probably. As long as I don’t try it too close to any major sources of wizard magic.”
“Such as Renjaf’s tower?”
“Oh, Jacob!” she cried. “Don’t worry so much! I’ll land a short distance away, take his stuff out of my pocket dimension and carry it up the garden path, so to speak. What could possibly go wrong? Look, I’d better go.”
Never one to stand in her way, Jacob simply wished her luck.
*****
In the end, gentle reader, my mother’s dimensional magic was never put to the test that day, because unfortunately, she had underestimated how stubborn old Renjaf really was. She had already returned many times to tend his grounds, grow the flowers, clean his pond and even reshape and repair his stone walls, all with her druid magic, but through it all, the stone wall that was Renjaf himself remained unmoved.
She offered to get his delivery for him. He refused. She offered to make sure his next five, ten, twenty demon-affected deliveries got through. He still refused. She said she was prepared to do it even if it was a Greater Demon from the lower planes, and it meant risking her life just to bring him a few groceries. Still, he refused.
“But that means you’ll have to get it yourself,” she pointed out, “and you hate leaving your tower!”
“Yes,” he agreed, “I do! But I’d rather do that than accept help from you or anyone else! But by all means, keep coming back here with more harebrained ideas on how to win me round.”
“Why not just tell me what you want and then I can do whatever it is?”
“Because what I want is to keep denying you. I want you to keep coming here, trying your heart out to get that book and I want to be here, standing in your way every time.”
“But…but why would you do that?”
“Because I might not be able to see much, these days, but I can see the pain on your face very clearly. Because I enjoy seeing that look. Because knowing I am standing in the way of your dreams and ambitions, the way everyone stood in the way of mine, gives me life! And if the occasional trip into town means I get all that, then it’s a price I’m willing to pay, and you will never, ever get what you want!”
With that, he once again slammed the door in her face. Hard.
*****
Well, that was it for my mother. She had tried to be kind; she had tried to help. She had shown, I freely confess, gentle reader, far more patience than I would have in her place. Now she was done. Renjaf was a bitter, twisted, horrible old man, and she was done playing nice. She was angrier than she had ever been in her life, but through that anger came a smile – a dark, dangerous smile – because he had made a mistake.
Logically, if Renjaf wouldn’t give her the book, she’d just have to take it. Unfortunately, the wizard’s tower had excellent defences against intruders, and it would take her some time to probe for weaknesses and find a way to sneak in. To do that, though, she would need the recluse to leave his home – her druid magic may be growing, but she didn’t fancy going up against an enraged wizard. Up until now, Cat had been unable to imagine anything making Renjaf leave his tower, but he had just told her that whenever there was a demon attack, he would definitely do exactly that, just to spite her. So, it was clear that this was precisely what she needed: another demon attack.
*****
“And how exactly do you plan to arrange that?” Jacob demanded, later, when she told him her idea. “Make a pact with a wizard who’s an expert in summoning demons? Put innocent people in danger just so you can get your book?”
“No, of course not,” Cat replied, “but that demon clause in your contract covers any kind of demon, not just the dangerous ones, right?”
Jacob insisted they were all dangerous, but Cat disputed that.
“What about Tricksters?” she asked. “They’re more of a pest and a nuisance than dangerous, wouldn’t you say?”
If there was a layer missing in my Great Cosmic Sandwich, gentle reader, it’s the Tricksters – the mayonnaise of the cosmic planes. Some people actually liked Tricksters with their pranks and their mischief while others hated them more than hell itself. No-one was sure where they even came from, whether from a higher or lower plane or somewhere else entirely. They didn’t appear to have any ill intent beyond causing random acts of chaos that they seemed to find hilarious. They’re like that relative or co-worker who adores practical jokes and doesn’t seem to understand that not everybody thinks they’re funny. And like those practical jokes, they can on rare occasions get out of hand and go dangerously wrong, which is why they are legally classed as demons.
“Tricksters could be enough to stop my deliveries – there have been instances of them stealing parcels before – but it's entirely discretionary on the part of the delivery person.”
“I can work with that,” said Cat.
“But how do you propose to summon a Trickster?” Jacob asked.
“Tricksters aren’t really summoned. They just appear because they feel like it.”
“So again, how—”
“—Don’t you see?” gasped an exasperated Catriona. “I don’t need to summon a Trickster…” she shapeshifted in front of her friend.
At about four feet tall with skin the colour and texture of coral, bulbous, squid-like head with tentacles for hair and a mischievous grin, Jacob had to admit she did make a pretty convincing Trickster demon.
“I can become one!” Cat finished, redundantly. “All I have to do is run around Compton like this for a couple of days, and people will think there’s a real Trickster.”
She changed back to her usual self. She didn’t much like being a Trickster demon, but she would do it if it meant she could finally get her hands on Shifting Stars.
“I don’t even need to do anything much. Maybe knock the odd rubbish bin over, grab people’s washing off the line and swap it with next door’s. Silly things; nothing dangerous. And if it just so happened to be a day when you’re supposed to be delivering to Renjaf…”
“…Then he’ll leave his tower and come into town,” Jacob concluded. “But you can’t be in Compton and at his tower at the same time,” he pointed out.
“Don’t need to be,” she countered. “You know what it’s like when a Trickster turns up – people start blaming it for everything!”
She was quite right, gentle reader, and it’s still the same a thousand years later. A gust of wind blows some rubbish bins over, it’s the Trickster. A freak rain shower ruins a garden party, or someone misplaces their keys, it’s the Trickster. That’s people for you – all this time, all the progress, and they never really change.
“So, what exactly is your plan?” Jacob wondered, with some trepidation.
“Well, I realise my plans don’t always work perfectly…” she began.
“How very self-aware of you!” Jacob returned. That earned him a playful shove.
“…and I’m keen to make you completely blameless in all this,” she continued, ignoring his remark.
“That would be appreciated.”
“So, I’m thinking, what if you planned to deliver as usual – at your discretion – and the ‘Trickster’ stole something from you…something that would make it absolutely impossible for you to complete your deliveries?”
When Cat outlined the rest of her idea, Jacob told her, “That has got to be the most ridiculous radical plan I’ve ever heard in my life.” He grinned. “Sounds great, let’s do it!”
“Ridiculous radical plan,” Cat echoed. “I like that!”
It had a good ring to it, she decided.
Catriona rewarded Jacob’s support in the bedroom that night, and a few days later, the day before Renjaf’s next delivery was due, Catriona and Jacob set their plan in motion.
A ‘Trickster’ did indeed appear in Compton and start causing mischief. Jacob delivered as usual, despite having to track down a few items that went ‘missing’ from his cart. (Actually, hidden by Catriona in pre-arranged places.) Jacob was commended for his efforts and reminded that he need not make his deliveries the next day if the Trickster were still around. Jacob said he was determined to go anyway – after all, it was only a Trickster out there, wasn’t it?
That first day, the Trickster was tolerated as people simply hoped it would get bored and go away, but by the second day, they’d decided enough was enough and did what people always did in these situations: call in a demon hunter.
Demon hunters loathe Trickster cases. With all the second-hand rumours and false sightings flying around, getting to the truth is almost more trouble than it’s worth. Usually, some novice demon hunter is sent in to sort it out, both because none of the more experienced ones can be bothered and because they had to do it when they were novices. In fact, by Catriona’s time, it had become a rite of passage for some young demon hunters. Especially ones who felt they had something to prove.