Spell Song: An Enchanting Urban Fantasy

by J. F. Forrest

  When he got back in his car and eased up to the gate, the guard on the left near his window held up his hand to stop him. Carter wasn’t sure if this would work or not, but Elke shouldn’t know he was helping the Proctors, so they should let him pass. He flipped open his wallet with his ID and badge and flashed it to the guard. The guy took it, stared hard at the picture, then back at Carter, and back at the ID. He closed it and handed it to Carter.

  “Move along,” he said and waved to the guard in the gatehouse.

  In a few seconds, the massive door of concrete swung open to the inside and Carter drove through. He parked his car on a steel plate in the ground and waited. Within a few seconds, he heard a squeal and a lurch and his car began to lower into the earth. No one was there to greet him when the elevator stopped. He pulled his car off the plate and stepped out. Watching it rise behind him toward the half-lit opening above him, Carter thought, guess there’s no backing out now.

  He jogged down the long hallway with doors on both sides and was surprised that he didn’t come across anyone, guards, lab techs, anyone at all. His shoes clicked on the tile and echoed in the empty space. Where the hell is everybody?

  Orin Nightmander drew in a long, slow breath. He had his hands tucked into his sleeves to keep the cold wind from chilling his old bones. His gray beard whipped in the breeze and his hat threatened to blow away. He’d been trying to find a way past the powerful wards around the tall concrete structure for the better part of an hour. Each time he got closer, the air grew dense and dim. Not only could he not move any farther, he couldn’t see past it. Someone was using a powerful and what seemed like dark magic to keep him and other magical beings out. It reminded him of an Azurian invitation spell. The only way to make it past the designated barrier of the spell was to an invitation from the caster. He chewed the inside of his cheek as he pondered the problem. He’d pondered so intently that he hadn’t heard all the commotion on the opposite side of the silo. He wandered around the tall structure unaware of the two men climbing it and saw an empty truck by the road. Had that been there all the time? He didn’t think so, but he couldn’t be sure. One of the quirks of being a wizard is sometimes being a bit absent-minded. Oh well, he shrugged it off and shivered in the growing darkness.

  No need to be out here in the cold while I work this out, he thought and slipped into the driver’s seat of the empty black truck. He used a quick flick of his wand to shut the doors. Another flick and the truck rumbled to life and the heat cranked up. Nice truck, but the seat is terribly uncomfortable. He realized he must have been sitting on something that was poking him in the backside. He reached a hand under his robe and pulled out a shiny black rectangle…a cell phone.

  “Hmph.” He grunted and clicked the phone’s only button. “Who could this belong to?”

  He flicked up on the display of contacts in the phone only to find them listed without names, only numbers. He tapped a few more buttons and found that there were literally no ties to the owner of the phone. Inadvertently, he swiped the Bluetooth button and, to his surprise, heard a connection form. It crackled like the receiving device was far away.

  “Hullo? Anyone there?” He spoke into the phone.

  Nothing. It was obvious there was a connection, but it wasn’t a two-way communication channel. It was only a conduit for the phone to transfer a call to the Bluetooth receiver…an earpiece, or a radio or something like that. Orin tilted his hat back on his head pondering the problem. How could he use the connection to speak with the owner of the phone? He wasn’t sure why, but he felt the person on the other end of the line could be a way for him to bypass the warding spell and the wall outside the Caulla. He juiced the connection with a little magic and the crackling disappeared. For now, he had a clear line of communication...but how to use it?

  He laid the phone on the dashboard and rubbed his hands together. His repertoire of spells was vast, but try as he might, he could not divine a way to force a message down the invisible Bluetooth signal. If only I had some way of making a call to this phone, then the person on the other end of the receiver could answer.

  As he sat and considered it, his own phone pinged in his pocket. Text message. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen. It was his wife asking if he could stop on the way home to pick up some milk and bread at the market. He answered and shoved the phone back into his robe. And then it struck him…he did have a way to make a call to the mystery phone. He clicked his phone open and dialed the number. In three rings, it went to voicemail.

  “This is Agent Carter Cross. I cannot come to the phone right now, but please leave me a message and I will return your call as soon as possible.”

  Orin disconnected the call. Hmmm…Agent Carter Cross. That was interesting. He wondered what agency he worked for…CIA, FBI, NSA, PDF, FCC…IRS? The wizard shuddered as his mind ran through the list. All bad acronyms to work for, truth be told.

  Carter began opening the doors in the hallway. Most were locked, but some happened to be open. A few times, he found himself looking into what looked to him like a mad scientist’s lab. More times than not, the rooms were empty. One room had three military style, army-green cots lined up against the wall. In the corner, sat a lonely, old-school nursing home wheelchair. No one was in the cots and there were no personal belongings either. The last room on the right side of the hallway was dark when he opened the door. Reaching his hand inside to brush it against the wall, he found the light switch. The bright fluorescent light flared on and he was momentarily blinded.

  When his sight began to resolve, he found one similar army cot up against the back wall with a person lying on it. He pulled his gun out and pointed it at the figure. A small table sat next to the cot. On top of it rested a pair of dark sunglasses and several pages of what looked like sheet music. He eased around the room until he could see the person’s face. It was RayRay Proctor.

  Carter holstered his gun and ran to the side of the cot. He shook RayRay.

  “Hey, kid, wake up. We gotta get you outta here.”

  RayRay groaned, but didn’t move.

  Carter hooked his hand under RayRay’s arm and heaved trying to pick him up.

  His head lolled to the side and drool slid out of his mouth.

  “So tired, mom. Don’t want to go to school today.”

  “Look, RayRay, I’m not your mom and you’re not going to school. You’ve got to get it together enough for me to get you away from this place. Can you do that?”

  “Uh huh,” RayRay nodded, and then slumped back down on the bed.

  The kid looked exhausted. Carter wasn’t sure why he was so tired, but he definitely wasn’t going to be walking out of here anytime soon. He was too big to carry and Carter was sure they’d never get past the guards before someone discovered them making their escape. He needed a way to cart the kid out. Wheelchair. There was a wheelchair back in the room with the three cots.

  He jogged out into the hallway and pushed open the door where he’d seen the chair. He grabbed it and wheeled it into the hall. His shoes skidded to a halt when he saw the man standing in front of RayRay’s door, wearing a long black overcoat with his sunglasses on. His gun was drawn and pointed at Carter.

  “Seville,” he said. “Glad to see you made it.”

  “Drop the act, Cross.” The man grinned an evil grin. “I know you bugged out and started helping the bad guys.”

  “Bad guys? Don’t you think we might’ve been the bad guys?”

  “Get real, pal. You’re on the wrong side now. The losing side. There’s no power like Elke’s and you’re either with her or you’re dead.”

  Carter wondered if the man would see his hand behind the wheelchair reaching into his own coat to pull out his—

  “Don’t,” Agent Seville grunted. “Take it out, nice and slow. Lay it on the ground and kick it over to me.”

  Carter inhaled. Well, this rescue attempt was not going as planned. His pistol slid across the tiled floor and Seville tucked it into his coat. />
  “Let’s go,” he waved Carter toward the room where RayRay lay passed out.

  In his ear, Carter heard the crackle of his Bluetooth receiver connecting with his phone. That was odd. He discretely tapped his back pocket and found that his phone wasn’t in it. Prisoner without a phone. Within a few seconds, he heard the receiver connect and his ringtone filled his ears. Seville never moved but he never took his eyes off Carter. He must not be able to hear it…only I can hear it through the earpiece.

  He grabbed Carter by the arm and shoved him into RayRay’s room. Then he dragged the wheelchair in after them. He motioned toward the sleeping kid.

  “Get him up. Get him in the chair. It’s almost show time.”

  Carter heard his ringtone start up again. Someone wanted to get in touch with him desperately. He wondered if Sami had somehow gotten hold of a phone and was calling him from inside the compound. Once he’d dragged RayRay into the wheelchair he turned toward Seville and raised his hands again.

  “Well? What are you waiting for? Get to pushing, assface.”

  Always the gentleman, Carter thought as he wheeled RayRay out into the hall. They didn’t go very far before Seville pointed his gun at another door.

  “In there.” He nodded.

  Carter turned the knob and rolled RayRay in. His heart sank as he took in the scene. Three old men tied to their chairs facing a makeshift stage where, presumably, RayRay was going to play. He didn’t know why the other men were there, but he had a notion that it couldn’t be good. And more shocking than that, there was a short, bearded guy with a pointy red hat and a blue coat. A gnome. There was a frickin’ garden gnome come to life sitting on a lab table reading a book. This place is getting stranger and stranger, thought Carter.

  “Get him into that chair up there,” Seville grunted, indicating the chair on the stage.

  Carter muscled him up and propped him in the chair. RayRay was still out cold.

  “Now what?” He turned to Seville. “You gonna shoot me?”

  The man in the sunglasses laughed. It was a little too enthusiastic and only a touch away from insane.

  “Only if Elke wants it.” He grinned. “For now, why don’t you have a seat in the wheelchair while we wait?”

  Carter sat down. He was facing the older men as Seville used zip ties to bind his hands. Behind them was a massive glass mirror—probably two-way glass—with someone watching them from the other side. In the quiet, he could swear he heard a voice coming from it, shouting, yelling. But it was too faint to tell what it was saying. Or maybe it was all in his imagination.

  They didn’t wait long. The door swung open and Elke walked in. Carter was struck by how young she looked, no longer a woman in her fifties but like a girl in her twenties! And no longer dressed in business attire, but more like a movie star on the red carpet. Her gown glittered in the pale fluorescent light.

  “Well, Well, Agent Cross, we meet again. Under regrettable circumstances I’m afraid.”

  “I told him he had chosen the wrong side, the losing side, the stupid side.” Seville’s voice still carried the tinge of lunacy.

  “Shut up, Agent Seville.”

  “What’s going on here, Elke? What are these people doing here? And what have you done with Sami?”

  “Ahhh, all good questions, Agent Cross. But let’s deal with the last one first.”

  She pulled a solid black stick out of her sleeve. She flicked it at the giant mirror. Instantly, the glass was clear and Carter was only slightly shocked to see the two women on the other side. Sami and an older white-haired woman he didn’t recognize tied up in chairs much like the old men in this room. Sami’s mouth was wide open and Carter knew where the yelling had been coming from. She’d been able to see him the whole time and was trying to warn him.

  “As you can see, we have gathered the necessary components of a spell that will grant me immortality.”

  Carter didn’t hear most of what she was saying. She was being drowned out by his ringtone blaring in his ear again. If it’s not Sami calling me, he wondered, who the hell is it?

  22

  Dark Magic

  “Doesn’t anyone answer their phones anymore?” Orin tossed his cell down on the passenger seat of the black F-150 pickup truck.

  He had made several attempts to approach the concrete wall outside the silo, but each had ended in him pushing against the dark force. With every step it grew harder and harder to move and he was afraid he might have gotten himself stuck. The magic pushing against him seemed to pulse. It felt like a heartbeat but faster, more like a strobe light. With every pulse he could push further in, but that had proved disastrous as his movement became more and more constricted. With a tiny flick of his wand he’d been spit out, as if the force had swallowed him like a whale.

  Sitting in the truck he scratched his gray beard and studied the wall. He wasn’t getting in, that much was clear. And if Sami and her friends were in there, he needed some way to get a message to them. That’s why the phone had seemed like such a lucky break. But whoever owned it had chosen this exact moment to go dark.

  “Hmmm,” he hummed. “Message spells? Do I know any? Or perhaps I can wrangle a pigeon out here.”

  He looked around and saw that the woods were empty and nighttime was beginning to creep through the trees. A few flurries of snow fluttered onto the windshield and melted almost on impact and a few fireflies flickered in the darkness. A few more joined them and they began to flash in unison, a beautiful display.

  Inspiration struck Orin and he began rifling through his pockets. He was certain he had one capsule left, but where was it…His hands disappeared in and out of his robe, until finally he found it. It was a tiny brown capsule about the size of a coffee bean and wrapped in cellophane like a peppermint. He’d never used a messenger spell on fireflies, but had heard they could be quite effective at finding a person and delivering a short message. They had something to do with tracking frequencies and such. To send them after a specific recipient though, he had to imbue the capsule with the full name and birthdate of that person.

  He grabbed his phone and tapped out a text to Jan back at the KPDA, send Sami’s full name and b-day ASAP.

  Within seconds it pinged and the reply was there, Samantha Dawn Proctor 4/13/55.

  Perfect, Orin thought, now all I need are some messengers.

  The fireflies had gone dark. He opened the pickup truck door and peered around straining to see them. He was afraid maybe he’d spooked them when he opened the door. He shivered and jogged back toward the truck. As he did, he noticed a few sparks of light dancing in the air in the spaces between the tall trees. The falling snow and flickering lights made the scene look like Azuria…there was powerful magic here. At first, the lights blinked in random order, one here, and one there. Then, all at once, they started to pulse in unison, a blanket of synchronous fireflies reflecting the waves of magic emanating from below where he stood. They’re back. The effect was hypnotic.

  He watched for a few minutes and after a short time the flashing stopped. When it started up for round two, they began in random blinks and then settled into a pulsing pattern again. He cocked his head to the side and considered the waves of light in front of him. Why? What could be causing them to blink in such a way?

  No time for that now, he needed to collect them. A quick search of the floorboard of the truck found him an empty, but sticky, Mason jar. He twirled the metal lid loose and sniffed it. The tangy fermented smell of old alcohol…peach flavored alcohol floored him. And from the burn in his nose, he guessed it was some pretty strong stuff too. He made a mental note to ask the owner of this truck about it when this was all over.

  He waited for the lightning bugs to begin flashing in synchrony again and waved his new jar around catching more than two-dozen of them in it. He touched his wand to the lid in a few places and punched a couple of holes in it to keep the bugs happy and healthy…if not drunk. When he felt he had enough, he ran back to the truck. The seed ha
d to be programmed to Sami’s signature frequency and then he had to get it into the fireflies somehow…he hoped he could liquefy it and they might drink it.

  He opened the package with the bean in it and almost popped it into his mouth. But he froze and realized he had no message to send her. All the magic in the world and I can’t help her from out here. Better check in with the other White Cloaks and see if they are getting close.

  He pulled out his phone and dialed Jan back at the office.

  “Any word from Upstairs?” he asked her.

  Jan didn’t answer for a second. Bad sign.

  “I have bad news, Orin. They aren’t coming today. Apparently, all flights out of Boston are delayed. They won’t get in until tomorrow.”

  Orin clicked his phone shut without responding and looked out into the night. A heavy snow was falling and the fireflies were pulsing in time with the magic…on…off…on…off.

  Sami watched helplessly as the woman called Elke, whom she now realized was some kind of witch, had RayRay wheeled into the room and strapped to the chair beside the violin. The man with the broken sunglasses that had chased her across Tennessee was there as well as Agent Carter Cross. Her heart fluttered with hope that he would do something to save them, but it became clear that he was a prisoner too.