Book 2: Chapter 15: The Wizard Casts Fireball (1/2)

Dan wanted a hammerspace. That being an extradimensional storage space, instantly accessible, to put and retrieve stuff that might be useful. The Gap was almost perfect. Its existence fit the definition near exactly. And it was just sitting there, all that empty space to fill! If only it wasn't toxic! Poison! Such a waste. Dan wanted a way around it.

Originally, Dan had planned to use his appropriated underground lair as a substitute. He could just spread things out on a few tables, and instantly know where they were. His teleportation was near instantaneous, so picking what he needed was a simple matter of remembering it. Practically speaking, there wasn't a meaningful difference between storing things he might need, and having them directly on hand.

That wasn't a good enough reason not to try. Practicality had nothing to do with it. Dan wanted to master his power. Not knowing what he could do with it was like not knowing that he could close his hands, or how his legs worked. It was like never bothering to learn how to throw a ball, or jump, or speak, or walk. It was like knowing there was a part of himself that was entirely foreign, unexplored, and lacking, yet being too damn lazy to bother working on it.

Dan was not that person, anymore. He refused to be. Especially not when working on it was so damn easy.

He held a ball bearing in his hand, the same that he'd launched across his yard. He'd dubbed it his lucky ball. Hopefully the streak would continue with this next bit. The idea was incredibly simple, so much so that Dan was disappointed in himself that he'd never thought to try it before.

His veil was a doorway, opening and closing at his command. In and out of the Gap with but a flex of thought and will. His veil was the gate between reality and what lay between. It was connected, a bridge between the two worlds. It was an undeniable fact.

Dan could already selectively transport parts of his veil into the gap. By pulsing his veil he could shave away bits of matter, kind of like sandpaper, or a grindstone. Or he could remove something entirely, metaphorically opening the door, and hurling it into the empty Gap. He could bring himself, wrapping himself in his veil and falling away. What he wanted, now, was a sort of middle ground.

The idea was simple. The execution... just as simple. Dan sent his veil into the ball bearing, coloring the silvery metal a shimmering sapphire in his vision. He felt it, the weight of it, the tiny portion of his power nestled inside and around it. He opened the door, and the ball vanished.

But he didn't let go. His veil remained wrapped around it, an imaginary fist, holding tight. Dan stood in the real, while a tiny portion of his veil hovered in the Gap. It was—

Disorienting. Like a finger had just up and wriggled off his hand. There was a disconnect between feeling and seeing, that his brain struggled to adjust to. A phantom limb. He was a sudden amputee.

He quickly shut his eyes. He let his arms go slack, his legs loosen, his mind float free. His veil wrapped around the steel ball, unable to move it. He felt it. He felt it. The door was left open, just a crack. Enough for a tendril of his power to connect from here to there, from reality to not. He could move it, his veil, but it was sluggish. Without proper visualization, he was flailing in the dark. Without his input, the Gap had no form.

But it worked! The connection held! His veil was lessened, the vast pool from which he drew his power had diminished ever so slightly, but that was easily solved. Dan willed a change, and the ball reappeared in his hand. He held it tight, felling his reserve refill, as veil met veil and merged with its greater half. Nothing was lost, nothing was changed.

Dan grinned triumphantly.

It was slow, unwieldy, confusing, disorienting. It was annoying and impractical. The Gap was less responsive. He lost a chunk of his veil while doing it. It all seemed like a waste of effort.