Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus Allies

by Lydia Sherrer

  Madam Barrington had moved ahead and Lily hurried to catch up. They approached her father carefully, but he seemed not to notice, still in the throes of his spell. Allen had long since lost consciousness, but he didn’t seem to need to be awake for whatever John Faust was doing. Lily and Madam Barrington looked at each other, and Lily saw her own uncertainty mirrored in her eyes. Should they interrupt the spell? Would it hurt Allen? Would John Faust lose control and kill someone, even himself?

  Fortunately, they never had to find out. At that moment her father stumbled back, catching and supporting himself on a nearby table as he shouted hoarsely. “Yes. Yes! It worked!” Despite his triumph, they could see the spell had taken a toll on him. He was covered in sweat and his skin had a grayish tinge. He looked around, dazed, as if only just seeing the room for the first time.

  Though the battle between Trista and Sebastian was the loudest thing in the room, John Faust’s eyes went straight to Caden, laid out on the floor. “What have you done to my son?” he cried, rushing to the young man’s side and kneeling, checking for a pulse.

  “What have you done to Allen? What have you done to the other children?” Lily yelled at him, anger coursing through her veins as both she and Madam Barrington advanced. Now was the time to take him, she knew, when he was weak. Yet the sight of him on the ground cradling Caden’s head brought a fresh stab of anguish to her heart. How she wanted him to cradle her like that, to show her even a smidgen of the care he had for her half brother. And her poor brother. Kidnapped as a child and raised by this monster through no fault of his own. He was to be pitied more than she, having endured a life her mother had saved her from.

  “Caden. Caden! Wake up!” John Faust pleaded, ignoring them as he shook his son. The young man groaned in response, raising a weak arm to hold his head. Sighing in relief, his father stumbled to his feet and faced them, glaring at Madam Barrington. “You’ll pay for this, woman. You’ve meddled in my family long enough. You’ve poisoned my daughter against me, even convinced my father to turn his back on my cause. You’re no wizard, you’re a meddlesome witch,” he said, spitting out the epitaph like a curse.

  “Do not be a fool, LeFay. You have only yourself to blame. You have twisted what I taught you and used it to justify your own selfish schemes. Whatever happens here is squarely on your shoulders. Now give up before someone gets hurt. You are already near collapse yourself. There is nowhere to go.”

  John Faust laughed, a chilling, twisted sound. “I’m not your student anymore, Ethel. Don’t begin to imagine you know the limits of my strength. I don’t delight in pain or death, but they are necessary tools for the greater good. I suggest you go back to your cage before I use them on you.”

  There was a moment of tense silence, broken only by the yowls, curses, and sparks of the fight unfolding on the other side of the room. Then all three wizards attacked at once. The magic met in midair, clashing in a huge wash of energy that threw them all backward off their feet. Lily was first up, casting an extra shield between them as John Faust aimed another spell at Madam Barrington. The battle was furious, but swift. It was clear, despite his words, that her father was weakened. Caden was little help, stumbling to his feet but barely able to form more than a basic ward, much less attack. Lily and Madam Barrington pounded at John Faust’s defenses, trying to stun him. If they could only knock him out for a moment, they could use a pair of iron shackles on him and be done with it.

  They might have done it, if not for one crucial mistake. They had come at John Faust from the direction of the cage, with the exit unblocked behind him, instead of circling and trapping him between them and the wall. As they fought he backed up, shouting at Trista to get her brother and go. The young woman appeared in Lily’s field of vision, covered in small, bloody scratches and sprinting for the door. She grabbed Caden under the armpit and hauled him up, supporting him as they headed up the stairs.

  As John Faust reached the bottom step, he spoke through gritted teeth while still concentrating on maintaining his defensive spell. “It doesn’t have to be like this, Lilith. You’re on the wrong side of history. Don’t throw your life away fighting for them. I’m only trying to help our people survive.”

  Lily hesitated, the spell on her lips dying as pain and longing stabbed through her chest. Despite everything he’d done, she still craved his approval. Yes, his methods might be reprehensible, but he was trying to preserve the wizard race, a legitimate problem that no one else had even begun to acknowledge, much less address. There was so much good wizards could do in the world if only they’d come down from their lofty pedestals. Maybe she would be more help to wizardkind, to humanity as a whole, if she were at her father’s side. Maybe all he needed was a conscience, and she could provide that.

  At that moment Sebastian ran up behind her, panting, and they were joined by their various four-footed and winged allies. Sir Kipling came to stand between her legs, hissing at John Faust, and that’s when she remembered what he’d ordered done to her cat. Good grief, who was she fooling? She had to stop pretending and start dealing. Her father was an unrepentant, incurable git, no matter what his goals were. If she wanted to help wizardkind, she had to start by putting him away where he would do no more harm.

  “Thanks, but no thanks, Dad,” she said, giving him a mirthless smile. “I don’t trust people who don’t like cats.” With that she prepared to renew her attack, but John Faust turned tail and ran, taking the stairs two at a time.

  “You two check to make sure Allen is alright,” Madam Barrington ordered in a voice that brooked no argument. Then she turned and followed John Faust, moving surprisingly quickly for her age.

  Lily hesitated, wanting to follow, but distracted by Sebastian pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. Once she realized he wasn’t trying to strangle her, she returned it with equal fervor. As he released her and ran to the center of the room, Lily bent and picked up Sir Kipling, squeezing him so tightly he protested with a meow of alarm.

  “Hey! I’m not a stuffed animal, you know.”

  “I thought you were dead,” she murmured, voice muffled as she buried her face in his fur.

  “Me? Oh you of little faith. What an absurd thing to think. I’m a cat, after all. Don’t you know we have nine lives?”

  “But how did you escape?” She asked, putting him down and hurrying to join Sebastian. As they gently unstrapped Allen and lifted him off the chair, Sir Kipling explained that Caden obviously had no idea how to kill a cat. He'd tried a few spells, all of which Sir Kipling's ward collar protected him from. But the cat had craftily played dead, and since his long fur mostly hid the collar, and the young wizard only nudged him with a foot to check for life, it was easy enough to fool him. As soon as the wizard left, Sir Kipling ran and found Sebastian. He was distinctly vague on how he got Sebastian out of his cell. Lily suspected it was a combination of his own unique cat magic and whatever had enabled Sebastian to escape the iron cage.

  Laying Allen out on one of the cleared-off tables, they checked his pulse. It was weak, but steady, and he was breathing. “I don’t think we can do any more for him right now. He’s probably just exhausted. Come on!”

  Their group ran for the stairs, Sebastian in the lead since he’d already been to the floor above once. The stairs led up to a white hall with tiled, linoleum floors. It looked eerily like an old-fashioned mental ward, with small cracks in the wall and some of the tiles missing corners. Lily didn’t have time to wonder where they were, however, as Sebastian sprinted off to the left. They passed the unconscious form of a very large, very square-looking woman, slumped against the wall. She wore the clothes of a caretaker of some sort and had a ring of keys on her belt.

  “Who?” Lily stammered as they passed.

  “No idea.” Sebastian shouted, jumping over her outstretched legs as he ran. “She tried to stop me and I gave her the ol’ one-two.”

  Lily went around the unconscious woman rather than jump over her but didn’t have time to wonder further
as they heard a cry from up ahead. Rounding the corner, they saw the entrance of the building, a high-ceilinged foyer with double bar doors leading out into the night. Trista, Caden, and John Faust were just disappearing out of them, but she barely noticed. Her eyes were drawn to the crumpled form in the center of the floor.

  “NO! Ms. B.!” Lily screamed, skidding to a halt by her mentor as Sebastian barreled through the doors after her fleeing family. The pixies followed Sebastian, but Sir Kipling halted between Lily and the doors, taking up a defensive stance and keeping an eye on the room around them as Lily forgot all else but the woman in her arms.

  Madam Barrington’s skin was ice cold, and at first Lily couldn’t find a pulse, her hands were shaking so badly. When she finally did find the artery on the side of her mentor’s neck, she couldn’t tell if it was pulsing or not. But holding a finger in front of her nose she thought she could feel the faintest brush of air. With frantic motions she checked Madam Barrington’s whole body, looking for injury. But she found none. No blood, no burns, no sign of damage. And yet her mentor was so cold, as if in death.

  She was scrambling at her pocket, on the verge of calling for an ambulance, when a weak voice behind her made her jump.

  “Is sh—she alright?”

  It was Allen, and Lily cried out in relief to see him upright. At least, mostly upright. He looked terribly weak, with barely any color in his skin at all. But at least he was talking in coherent sentences. Lily supposed she should be grateful her father preferred mental and emotional torment over physical harm as a form of retribution.

  “You survived!” Lily cried, gently laying her mentor down on the floor and running to help Allen.

  “App—pp—parently so,” he said, stuttering worse than ever. “Th—though I th—think I may n—need some time to, w—well, recover.”

  “Is anything hurt? Do you need a hospital?”

  “A psy—psychologist perhaps,” he attempted a chuckle, but coughed instead. “N—n—no, I j—jest. I o—only need r—rest, I think. B—but let me l—look at Ethel. Oh, J—Johnny, what h—have you done?” he muttered, lowering himself painfully to kneel at Madam Barrington’s side. He felt her forehead, neck, and wrists, then checked under her eyelids and in her mouth.

  “C—c—cursed.”

  “What?” Lily asked, alarmed.

  “S—she’s been c—cursed. D—doctors will d—do her no good.”

  Lily felt a stab of fear. “Will she be alright? Can you fix her?”

  Allen sighed. “I w—will try. F—for now we m—must keep her warm, and h—hydrated.”

  With a bang, Sebastian burst back in the front doors, skidding to a halt and taking in the scene with a glance. “Allen, you’re alright! What’s wrong with Aunt B.? Is she hurt?”

  “Allen says John Faust cursed her,” Lily said, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice.

  “That bastard!” Sebastian exclaimed, punching a fist into his palm.

  Lily suddenly remembered he’d gone after them. “Where are they?”

  “Gone,” he said gloomily. “Jumped in a car and raced away. Who knows where to.”

  “Oh, this is a disaster,” Lily moaned, burying her face in her hands. Madam Barrington was hurt, John Faust had gotten away, presumably with the knowledge of Morgan le Fay’s whereabouts, and they were no closer to stopping him than they had been before.

  “Hey, hey.” Sebastian knelt at her side, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We saved Allen and busted Mr. Fancypants’s operation wide open. We’ll sweep the place, hide anything we need to, and call the cops. John Faust won’t have anywhere to go. He’s on the run. We’ll figure this out, don’t worry.”

  “But Ms. B.,” Lily said, on the verge of tears. “What if she—what if she, d—dies?”

  With strong hands, Sebastian helped her stand and she turned to bury her face in his neck, fighting to hold back the tears. Madam Barrington was like a mother and a father to her. She’d been the one and only person who understood her and helped her discover who she really was. The thought that she might die, that Lily might lose her strength, wisdom, and support, was almost more than she could bear.

  “Shhh,” Sebastian whispered into her hair, holding her tenderly. Tentatively. “It’s going to be okay. You’re not alone.”

  Lily clung to his words, and a numb sort of peace came over her. She felt the crushing weight, the tightness in her chest, ease. Now was not the time to break down, she knew. She had to be strong. There was still work to do, and with Madam Barrington gone, it was up to her to take the lead.

  Taking several deep breaths, with only a few sniffles in-between, she pulled back, giving Sebastian a grateful look before turning to Allen. “Before…” her voice caught, but she pushed on. “Before all this Madam Barrington showed me how to cast a temporary portal back to the Basement at McCain Library. It will be a safe place for you and her to rest while I sterilize this place of magic. Sebastian and I will carry her. We need to get her downstairs where I can cast the portal.”

  “Sebastian.” She turned to him. “Once Ms. B. is safe, call Richard. He’s expecting it. Do you have any idea where we are?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Still in Georgia, probably. The foliage looks familiar. But I can find out if you’ll lend me your phone. Mine’s dead again.” He gave an apologetic shrug.

  Lily nodded, remembering how she used to fuss at him for not charging his phone. He would always laugh her off, calling her a worry-wart. That time seemed so long ago, when all they had to worry about were normal, run-of-the mill adventures like ghosts and time loops. There was no mirth in Sebastian’s eyes now, only worry floating on the surface of a deep, smoldering pit of anger.

  Lily had no time for worry, or anger. She would have to process all this later. Right now she had a job to do, and she intended to do it.

  Epilogue

  It turned out they had been in an old mental ward, located about an hour and a half southeast of Atlanta, near Macon. The facility had once been state-run but was decommissioned several decades ago and purchased by a private trust.

  They found this out after the fact, of course. The FBI lost no time in showing up, forcing Lily to focus her efforts on the basement as she hurriedly threw books, charts, notes, and unapologetically magical items through the portal she’d cast to the library Basement. There was nothing she could do about the large device in the middle of the room. It was worthless without John Faust, of course, and there were enough dimmu runes all over the place that she couldn’t hide them all.

  She got everything hidden just in time, deactivating the portal to the Basement and wiping away the aluminum paint as the sound of sirens approached. She’d already checked and seen that the portal in the cage had faded to nothing. The runes were still there but couldn’t be reactivated, not surrounded by the iron cage. She would have to recommend to her grandfather that he tear out and replace that doorframe in John Faust’s workshop.

  When the FBI arrived, SWAT team in tow, the first thing they did was a sweep of the building, something Lily and Sebastian hadn’t had time to do. The first floor contained what had previously been exam rooms, now repurposed as storage, an office, a schoolroom, and a gym. The kitchens were still functioning, and they also found what must have been John Faust’s bedroom. To Lily’s relief, he hadn’t left anything magically incriminating in it, having kept all his books, devices, and supplies in the facility’s basement.

  Then the sweep team headed up to the second floor. There, each locked in their own individual room, they found the children. There were seven, ranging in age from three to sixteen. The youngest, only a toddler, looked about with wide, frightened eyes. The older ones had blank expressions and were silent as the grave, not answering any of the policemen’s questions. None of them looked abused. In fact all were the picture of health, with bright eyes, rosy cheeks, and strong bodies that clearly got plenty of food and exercise.

  Lily was conflicted, wanting to talk to them, to tel
l them she was their sister and that she would help take care of them. But she knew that was out of her hands. Child protection services had sent several people and the children were taken away, presumably to be treated and then returned to their families.

  Though she couldn’t care for them, she did warn Richard that they might have…odd ideas and behaviors. There was no telling how John Faust had raised them, isolated here their whole lives with only him and the square woman as parent figures. Richard assured her they would all go through a thorough psychological evaluation and be treated as victims of a cult.

  That prognosis certainly wasn’t difficult to come by. Richard hadn’t even needed to float the idea himself. The FBI agents took one look at the basement and declared John Faust a loony of the highest degree. They’d already sent people after him, putting out an APB on John Faust and the car. Since, according to Richard, Caden and Trista were about twenty years old and legal adults, they were being treated as accomplices rather than victims.

  After EMTs took the squarish woman away on a stretcher—Sebastian had given her quite a knock—Lily and Sebastian gave statements, Richard and his partner, Agent Meyer, presiding. They kept it simple: Being suspicious that John Faust was up to no good, they had come to confront him and he fled, leaving them and the younger children behind. Lily had to explain her own less-than-friendly relationship with her father. But, being seen as a victim herself by the FBI, and with Richard running interference, the questioning didn’t go too deep.

  Sir Kipling stayed out of sight throughout, knowing not to reappear until it was time to go. The pixies, of course, had long ago been thanked and dismissed. Lily wondered how much alcohol they would be getting for their aid.

  Once their interview was over, they were told they could leave. They didn’t have a car, of course, and had to call a taxi to get home, hoping against hope the driver could find their address, since they’d already claimed a taxi was how they’d gotten there in the first place.