With a scowl and a flourish she uttered a countercharm and expertly made the gestures she practiced diligently with her mother the summer after she turned 18.
The couch heaved and flapped turning back into the pants Danny had been wearing yesterday... complete with belt and empty wallet holding an old gift card for the next time he makes it to a Panera. With that she knew, she just knew, Danny was in Kat's private sanctum.
Staring down the invisible door with a fury and hatred you wouldn't think one could wield at an inanimate object Janice plotted her strategy. Damaging the door could separate the dimensions permanently. There aren't invisible doors in the sky after a house burns down, This is why you only store non-perishables and replaceable items in the sanctums, private sanctums at least... Familial hordes are much larger and the time dilation is much smaller, so those are great for extending family vacations.
"Focus!" Janice whispered, coating herself in protection charms. She had made a game of it that first summer, preparing just in case she was about to be drawn into a world of blood feuds and ancient curses. The reality was much more boring, but she made a song and dance of the incantations memorizing the protections she had never needed. She stood guarded against the elements, magical detection, psychic attacks, physical attacks, suffocation, poisoning, and was temporarily repulsive to bugs, all to varying degrees. (Her choreography was imperfect to begin with and the impassioned flair she added and memorized as part of the spell was not helping.)
She began her work, casting all known spells of unlocking, opening, and revelation. The spiritual door, remained barred, though the magical energy was heating the wall. As Janice continued her fervent incantations, a low, ominous hum resonated from the dimensional anomaly. The symbols etched upon the wall to tether the dimensional space to this realm revealed themselves, and if she just wanted to destroy the sanctum she could wipe the sigils away. A sense of anticipation and tension hung in the air, like a gathering storm on the horizon.
As minutes passed, the witch's energy waned, her mind teetering on the edge of exhaustion. Different magics exact different tolls, the price of divination, the locator and magic detection spells she cast earlier, being the highest, certainty comes at a great price and is now being taken. She paused to catch her breath, recounting all that had happened in the last few hours, wiping sweat from her brow and glancing anxiously at the door. Her determination to find her son fueled her, and she knew she had to press on.
The private sanctum spell is powerful. Despite being a first conjuring, even for a skilled witch, which Janice made no claim to be, it would still pose an obstacle. Perhaps... perhaps she was approaching the door the wrong way. She knew the creator was her daughter, and Janice knew her voice, appearance, and mannerisms.
Janice took a step back weakening by the second as the telltale "Divination Fog" began to settle over her thoughts specifically deteriorating her ability to focus. A death sentence in a true battle between witches. She was treating the door as if it were her enemy, but that wasn't the case. The door wants to open, that's its purpose, it just needs to see the right movement, hear the right tones, or some combination thereof, to do so.
Mustering her last bit of resolve, she closed her eyes and imagined her daughter, her voice, how she spoke. Then she chanted her incantation.
Before her coalesced an image of her daughter walking up to the door gesturing and her voice was heard saying saying "Open please!", "Open sesame.", "Olly olly oxen free!"
Janice repeated the incantation, another image of Kat appeared, approached the door, this one was dancing and singing... Again, and again, and two dozen times more.
The illusions of her daughter's voices amplified and soon the room was a cacophony and the images of her daughter was a blur of arms and motions. It was maddening to look at and worse to hear. Janice began to cry again, beyond exhausted and without any more ideas or energy to use.
She held out for as long as she could sustain focus but finally she collapsed to her knees and rested her face on the carpet, plugging her ears and trying to not bawl. She was unaware as iterations of her daughter winked out of existence. When she could finally bring herself to lift her head there was one final iteration going through a cheer like dance and singing the "Barbie Girl" song. This was it, she was beaten.
It was then that she noticed, the door was cracked open! The final illusion of her daughter winked out of existence. Janice's heart leapt but her elation quickly fell away to concern as she noticed the inside of her daughter's sanctum held a sinister, red-orange glow. She scuttled to the ethereal door and pulled it open the rest of the way to peer inside and see what could still be making light after centuries of time had passed within.
She pushed her hand across the barrier extending herself into the time dilation. The solid glow instantly became a varied pulsing as the jar of light became a container holding a small moving humanoid form.