I appreciated the effort.
Once inside, Jason took a seat and Link sat on the desk beside him. As we’d made a habit of doing, we kept the lights off in order to ward off any wandering visitors who were looking to buy an old tape, and bumped around in the dark.
“I’m heading through,” I said to the pair of them, and when neither of them moved an inch, I stopped in my tracks. “Aren’t you guys coming?”
Link playfully nipped at Jason’s hand, Jason withdrawing it quickly and jabbing at him in quick, light attacks. They were like little boys, bickering among themselves while their mother called out to them from the kitchen.
It wasn’t until I cleared my throat that they noticed me.
“Oh, you go on ahead,” said Jason.
“Say hi to the old man for me,” from Link.
I sighed under my breath and went through the red curtain at the back. The storeroom was entirely empty, and it was just the way I liked it. I constructed my portals to the Vault in this space, and that was always easier to do with a clear room. It changed something in the air, like removing a kind of stuffiness. It was fresher, purer – a cleaner state to make my masterpiece.
Before I got started, I removed a robe from the rail beside me and slung it over my shoulders. To enter the Vault without it was considered an insult, especially when in the presence of an Elder. I then proceeded to bring my fingertips together, focusing on the air in front of me. The trick was to bend the air, contorting it into the shape that I desired until a red ring appeared in front of me. But when there came little more than a soft hiss, the portal collapsed on itself and left me with nothing.
That’s weird.
I tried again, and this time a pocket opened in front of me. Its red edges burned brightly in the dark room, and I could see the tower on the opposite side of the portal. It loomed in the distance, standing tall beyond a rocky mountain path. Around it, dark skies began to sprinkle soft rain while croaking their first signs of thunder.
Wanting to beat the downpour, I hurried up the path, letting the portal slip shut behind me. The medallion around my neck bobbed and bounced under my robe, slipping out every now and then. When I was safe inside the tower – the Vault, as the Elders had so aptly named it – I darted up the spiraling staircase and arrived on the correct floor. I did briefly consider swapping out my magicard for something more… elemental, but I was growing fond of acrobatics, and the card’s soul had not yet begun to affect my own, as they so often did.
Satisfied with my choice, I pushed open the doors to the Grand Hall, where enormous marble pillars stretched out as far as the eye could see. In the distance was a blackened area where the light could not reach, and in front of it, an expansive pit of fire where a robed man stood, looking down over the blazing embers.
Although I’d been coming here as a Cardkeeper for twenty-nine years, I still never failed to marvel at the magic of the Vault. From the outside, nobody could ever imagine the size or grandeur of the interior, and yet, it was here for all to see. Assuming, of course, that you were a mage with access to the building in the first place, or were in the company of such a person.
Arms folded across my chest, I padded toward the fire and stopped at Dalton’s side. As usual, a hood covered his head as he gazed into the fire, barely acknowledging my presence. I coughed out loud, drawing his attention, until he spoke without moving.
“Oh, good day, Lady Keira.”
“Sir.”
We watched the hypnotic fires together for a moment, caught in a trance as the flames stood up and licked at the orange air above the dancing heat. I felt warmer instantly, and let my hands drop to my sides. “The job is done.”
“The creepers have been disposed of?”
“And then some.”
It had taken less time than expected. Usually a job like this would take days to clear, but with Jason and Link on my team, I’d improved in expedience. I had even come away relatively unscathed. The scratch on my face was beginning to heal already, and the rain had dealt with the traces of blood that had covered it.
“Good.” Dalton turned my way. Only his small smile visible from underneath his hood.
I studied his veiled expression, his silence concerning me. Dalton had never really been much of a talker, but this level of reservation was unusual even for him. “Is everything all right? You seem distracted.”
Dalton’s lips formed a false smile. “I am fine, but thank you for your concern. I–” Suddenly his hand launched out from his sleeve, groping the golden medallion around my neck. He gripped it firmly, his voice shaking. “W-Where did you obtain this?”
Puzzled, I glanced down at the medallion, my personal space feeling threatened. I had never seen him like this – even in the midst of a battle he had always kept his composure. “This? I got it from a creeper in the city.”
His mouth hanging open in shock, Dalton dropped the medallion. While the weight of the gold swung back and bumped against my chest, he stepped backward, his hands held out as if to keep a distance between it and him.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, confused as ever.
“Lady Keira, you have made a mistake by bringing it here.”
Perhaps the old man is getting senile, I thought for a moment, but really I knew better than that. If anything could lead him to freak out like this, I was better off steering clear of it myself. Only I couldn’t give it up. Who would want to?
“Get it out of here,” Dalton continued, shaking now, “before it’s too late.”
“I don’t under–”
“Go!” Dalton’s voice wavered as he retreated, and then his strength left him. Like he was made of lead, he tumbled to the ground, collapsing in a heap. His face turned ghostly white as shivers wracked his body.
I darted forward to catch him, but missed by an inch. What the hell was happening to him? Beads of sweat formed at my temple as I knelt and held his limp body in my arms. Dalton’s head lolled backward in unconsciousness. Was this my fault? Did the medallion do this to him, or was he simply so terrified of it that seeing it caused him to faint in shock? Nothing was certain, save for the fact that something was terribly wrong here.
And I couldn’t just leave.
Chapter 3
By the time Dalton came around, I was more than ready to hear the reason for his freak-out. This man had balls of steel, and if something hanging around my neck had shaken him, I was desperate to know why.
Once his eyes had popped open, I’d escorted him to the sleeping quarters and sat him down on one of the more comfortable beds. I’d done my best to make him a drink in the kitchen, one that would help him recover; hot water, blagentine, and a pinch of eurstint – the Vault’s equivalent to sugar. I sat across from him and watched as he sat up in bed, sipping it little by little while the color slowly returned to his face. When he was back to his former self, his eyes sparkling blue and his lower lip no longer quivering, I took his hand and asked him calmly to explain. Of course, I kept the medallion out of his line of sight.
“It is known by many names,” he said, staring into the depths of his cup as if to find his memories buried in there. “Some call it the Goldate Mandarium, others the Ancient Disc of Sophia. Across the world and throughout the ages, many have told tales of their encounter with that cursed thing, but they never end well.”
I swallowed what felt like a cactus as I listened intently.
“Some say it hosts a foul demon, the likes of which has never been seen, and claim it is the gateway to possession of the mortal body. Other stories tell of the knowledge it contains, too much for the human mind to bear. However, there is one thing that remains consistent in all of these tales: the medallion is cursed.”
Feeling the weight of it around my neck, I pondered Dalton’s words. If it was as cursed as they said, then why hadn’t I been affected yet? Would it take time for its curse to clamp its jaws around me, seizing me at my most vulnerable? I shuddered at the thought.
“Lady Keira, I must
ask how you came about this.” Dalton shuffled along the bed, sitting now with his trembling elbows resting on his frail, skinny knees. “You say that you took it from a creeper, no?”
I nodded sharply, reaching up to touch it but stopping myself as soon as I realized I was doing it. “Something like that, yes. To be honest, I don’t know where it came from. One minute I was fighting creepers on a train, the next I was chasing a man that looked… not human, exactly, but like he was a creeper assuming the identity of a man.”
Dalton watched me as I spoke, his eyes filling with a hunger for knowledge.
“To tell the truth, I’m not sure what the creature was, but I know it wasn’t human.”
“I see.” Dalton lowered his eyes to his feet, deep in thought. In time, he raised his head and climbed slowly off the low bed. “Walk with me, would you? These old bones could use some exercise, if you would be so kind.”
“Of course.”
Dalton and I paced the long corridors of the Vault, passing rooms that I had long forgotten about. I shared a lot of history with these walls, and with only one year left in my duty as a Cardkeeper, I was sure I would miss this place a great deal. My pulse quickened as I wondered about what would happen when my time came to an end.
By the time I’d heard more about the medallion, I itched to get rid of it. As beautiful as the relic was – as enticing as the thing seemed – I knew that I needed to unload it for my own safety. It reminded me of Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings saga, and I knew how taxing the journey was for that fellowship. I wasn’t ready for something like that. Not yet.
We stopped by the front of the Vault, and Dalton escorted me down the long, winding path to where I often opened portals. The rain had eased off now, and a stunning beam of light struggled to burst through the murky clouds. I lingered, staring at Dalton, shifting my weight to the other foot and waiting for him to create a portal. I didn’t want to fail my own in front of him – I didn’t need the embarrassment.
“Lady Keira, I urge you to be rid of the medallion.” The life slowly returning to him, Dalton slid the hood back over his head, reaching his arms out to create a portal. Only seconds passed before a blinding red light ripped through the air, hissing and cackling like a spitting log fire, and the VHS store’s backroom appeared on the other side. “I believe it belongs to a Damien Louse.”
I crooked an eyebrow. “The actor?”
“Pray tell, what is an ‘actor’?”
“Never mind. I’ll get it back to him. You have my word.”
“Very well.”
With Dalton’s trusting smile fresh in my mind, I passed through the portal and reemerged in the store. I immediately heard the comforting sound of Link and Jason quarrelling. The familiar stink of old dust and stale smoke hit me, and as I slipped the robe off to reveal my jacket and jeans, the medallion swung from my neck. I took it in my hands, a large, chunky thing that barely fit into my palm. The dim light from the front of the store streamed in and hit it, reflecting a shimmer that only enhanced its beauty. I wanted to keep it, only I knew I couldn’t. To disobey Dalton – the Elder of Chicago – was forbidden. Besides, I respected him too damn much. Simply out of courtesy for my mentor and good friend, I would have to do as he’d requested. I’d find Damien Louse and put the medallion back in his hands, where it belonged.
Even if I didn’t want to.
Chapter 4
Damien Louse was something of a local celebrity. His popular B-movies had obtained a pretty sizeable cult following. It wasn’t a secret that he lived out in Edison Park, where he would regularly host house parties and – as rumor had it – deal drugs to his nearest and dearest. I had no idea why someone like Damien would own an artifact such as this medallion, but I wasn’t going to find out unless I questioned him.
Jason stayed at my side as I trudged up the long gravel driveway to his huge, red-bricked house. Link sat comfortably in my hood, out of sight and out of danger. Just the way he liked it. Marching onward, I had every intention of simply handing over this cursed hunk of jewelry and storming off, but when I reached the front door, I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. My eyes narrowed.
“Uh-oh,” Link mumbled.
I didn’t say anything. My eyes were fixed on the open front door, a pane of glass smashed out of it. Forced entry. The lights inside were still on, illuminating the potential crime scene. My mind began to flicker from thought to thought, considering that Damien might have sought vengeance for the loss of his beloved medallion.
I hoped not – I didn’t want it on my conscience.
“Should we go in?” Jason asked.
“I don’t know,” I said flatly, without looking up.
“Come on.”
“No, I…” My nape began to tingle with the first signs of sweat. “Should we?”
“Look, I’ll go first.”
Before I could argue any further, Jason eased the door open with his shoulder and slipped inside the house. I reached out to stop him, but the words felt lost in the back of my throat. Something was seriously wrong here. I could feel it. Nevertheless, I followed him inside, watching where I stepped and expecting a room full of gore.
I hadn’t imagined the narrow hallway. The dresser stood upright and family photographs hung in perfect alignment along the walls. There was no sign of a struggle here, at least. To my left, where Jason slowly began to wander, a large, square kitchen filled with silver appliances and shiny black surfaces lurked as if in wait. This house began to remind me of the Mary Celeste, silent and still, as if it had come from another time. Another place. Its lack of life was deadly, tedious. Terrifying.
Link and I found Jason in the living room, a massive space full of not only couches and armchairs, but also pinball machines and air hockey tables. It wasn’t hard to believe that this was the home of a party animal, and so I began to believe the rumors. At forty-something years old, I would have expected Damien to have grown up and continued working. Maybe even keeping on with the Damned Dead series. I liked those movies.
“It doesn’t look like there’s been a disturbance,” Jason said, flicking through a stack of movie magazines but only half-looking. “Although the blood stain begs to differ. Maybe we should just leave the medallion here and head home.”
I sighed. “I wish I could do that.”
“But you can’t?”
“I can’t.”
“Thought so.”
As Jason wandered into the next room, I took to the stairs and crept up them. Darkness blanketed the upper floor and I couldn’t find the switch. Keeping one hand gripped around the banister, I called up to the seemingly vacant obscurity. “Hello?”
No response.
“My name’s Keira Poe and I’ve come to return your medallion.”
Still nothing.
Keeping a cautious eye over my shoulder, I hurried up the rest of the stairs with my magicard glowing in my pocket. But something was different about it now – its usual constant warmth had been replaced by a series of stops and starts, like an old car struggling to come to life after years of neglect. I nibbled my lower lip, panicking. What if I needed it?
Upstairs, one long, dark corridor ran the length of the house with only windows to the left and a series of doors to the right. I checked them out one by one, timidly pushing them open with the toe of my boot and expecting something to lunge out at me. It wasn’t until I reached the final door – a large double bedroom – that I found it.
“Link,” I commanded, watching him crawl over my shoulder and gawk down at my discovery with wide eyes. “Head downstairs and grab Jason for me, will you? I want him to see this.”
Absent of words, Link beat his wings and took off, leaving me alone with the body.
My first move was to switch on the lamp beside the doorway. I refrained from reaching my hand up by a further few inches and turning on the main light. For now, I didn’t want to see too much detail. I would never admit it, but I was just too scared.
In less than a minute, J
ason burst into the room with Link hovering at his side. His eyes only met mine for a moment, before they fell to examine the body on the floor. Without exchanging words, each of us got on our knees for an amateur autopsy.
One look at the man’s face verified that it was Damien Louse. His closed eyes contradicted his gaping mouth, his expression frozen in a look of shock suggestive of a heart attack. But inspecting the marks on his chest and stomach, it would have been difficult to persuade anyone that he’d died of natural causes.
“Look at these,” I said, pointing at the wounds. Three long, perfect gashes covered him from shoulder to hip, as if he had been killed with one single strike. I would have recognized the marks anywhere. “A creeper.”
Jason breathed deeply, blowing a long puff of air toward me in a half-whistle. “Let me make sure we’re on the same wavelength here: you found the medallion on a creeper, you discovered that it belongs to this guy, and as it turns out, he was killed by a creeper. Is it safe to bet that it was stolen from him?”
“Wow, you’re sharp,” I said sarcastically, staring blankly at the dead actor. I suddenly realized that I had only ever known him for the characters he’d played. When I stopped to think about that, it was kind of sad.
“Question is,” Link landed on my shoulder, but still refused to look at the corpse. “What do we do with the medallion now?”
“What do you think we should do?” I asked.
“Well, I agree with Jason. I think we should leave the medallion here and just call the police. Let them sort this whole mess out. In theory, we don’t even have to hang around to greet them – it can be anonymous. What do you think?”
Before I could give Link an answer – as if I had one to give – a brilliant blue light flooded the room in blinding flashes. I shot to my feet as my instincts took control of me, but I only made it one step before a sharp, burning pain ripped through me like a stream of electricity. A brief glance at Jason reflected the same agony, and then it dawned on me. I now knew what was attacking us.
Broken Magic: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Cardkeeper Chronicles Book 3) Page 2