The bilocation accomplished by some of the saints fascinated Garbol. What kind of magnificent man would the Lord require to be in two places at once? Garbol could barely manage the one.
There were times being in two places would be helpful, but rare was a man endowed with such power, and Garbol wasn’t one of them.
Garbol could, however, bilocate objects, and the refusal of Captain Gregory’s crew to approach the Mooten Islands created the need. From inside his RV, he drew upon his power and wrapped the motor home with the mantles of both places.
Once he’d bilocated his little domicile on wheels, both doors were located in exactly the same space with exactly the same material, but if he wanted to go home, he opened the one that went home. If he wanted to go onto the boat, he opened the other one. It doesn’t make sense to most people, but wizards understand these things.
Garbol stepped to the door and opened the one located in his trailer park. He stepped down into sunshine, taking a moment to close his eyes and let it cook his eyelids. A deep breath of fresh, dry air and he was on his way.
He took his Geo Metro to the Roy Clark Institute of Wizards, or as the rest of the world knew it, Johnny’s Buffet.
He snatched a chicken leg on the way to the back and entered the warded doorway. Inside, the bartender, Alex Frey, smoked a pipe and read a newspaper at the end of the counter. It was otherwise empty.
“Hi, Alex. Anyone about?”
Alex pulled the pipe out of his mouth and squinted toward the ceiling. “Could be.” He took a puff and went back to reading.
Garbol took a bite of chicken and strolled down the hallway opposite the bar. He opened the end door into a big archway to a gallery with several corridors on each side. He took a corridor to the supply room, but no one was there. “This place is dead.” He tore the rest of the meat off in two bites, tossed the bone in a waste basket, and grabbed a package of man-eating grubs, declawed and all their teeth pulled.
In the archives Garbol spied a young man and trotted up to him.
“Hey, you got a minute? I need help moving my RV.”
The man looked up, a half-aware look on his face. He wasn’t much more than a boy, short and straight sandy hair framing a chubby round face. “Uh… okay.”
“Come on.” Garbol strolled back the way he came. “If you do a good job, I’ll let you help with the phantoms.”
The young wizard gasped. “That would be awesome.”
“Yeah. I know. I’m Howie.”
“What are you studying, Howie?” asked Garbol.
“Nice. I’ll have to pick your brains when we’re through here.”
They waved at Alex, who swished his pipe stem at them. On the way out of the buffet, Garbol snitched a cheese stick and grabbed a Coke Zero from the cooler.
“I figure a levitation spell is too ambitious even for both of us, so I figure on trying a transmyst incantation, which is why I need you. One of us has to send, the other receive at the new place.”
Howie stared wide-eyed from the passenger seat, nodding his head and emitting the occasional ‘okay.’
“Easy peasy,” said Garbol. He pulled up to his motor home.
Howie followed him in. “Whoa, you need to check your suspension, it’s really rocking in here.”
Garbol threw the box of grubs into a cupboard and grabbed his pool stick.
“Oh, wow,” said Howie. He looked back at the door they’d just come in. “Where’s this go to?”
“Open up,” said Garbol.
Howie turned the knob and opened. Rain poured in and wind blasted through the inside. Howie slammed the door shut, a horrified grimace on his face.
“We’re on a ship?”
“Why didn’t you tell me we were going on a ship?”
“Didn’t think of it, why?”
“I’m afraid of water—I can barely approach a glass of it without shaking.” He pushed by Garbol and grabbed the blanket from the bed, wrapping it around himself and sinking to the floor. “I’m terrified of the ocean.”
“Mmm,” said Garbol. “You’re going to love fighting the phantom ships, then.”