The Curious Case of Jacob's Hallow

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The Curious Case of Jacob's Hallow Page 38

by Patrick Walsh


  He was frenzied, delirious, but the chamber was still and peaceful. The souls were slow and silent as they ascended away from this dark place. Their fire unfocused and intangible, yet able to find their new home. When he knelt by his dying friend, there were but a few spirits left to shield him. Out came the books, the random tools, the papers. At the very bottom was a tinkerer’s box. It was the only thing he had. An object that had failed him time and time again despite the sincere words of his mentor. He held it out, begging in his mind for it to finally work, to at last do something.

  “Please, please fix him…” The words trickled out as tears began to fall.

  Like all other instances, it sat in silence. It had no magic, no greater purpose. It was just some cruel joke or one of the old man’s backward teaching tools. No. No, it had to work. Han had felt it in the old man’s words all those years ago. That was when moments were stretched to years as he tried to comb over every thought, every idea, every experience, everything learned over his life.

  He didn’t even know it, but he searched over them with new eyes. Not as a coward beaten down by his peers and mistakes, but as someone willing to face dangers head on. Someone who knew that his friend deserved to live. He had been too late to save Luke, but he refused to be for Aza. There had to be something. Some memory or piece of knowledge in the back of his mind. But that’s not what he found. Not something hidden, but fragmented over his entire life. He should have realized it sooner...but no. Magic only ever worked for him on three occasions. They had all been with his guardian's trinkets. The old man had rigged them. When he was all but guaranteed to be expelled, something had stopped it. He had to make coats. Something that seemed so trivial...just a waste of his time. He was made to study magic despite not having any talent for it. Yet that wasn’t why. It wasn’t for spells or incantations. All these years...one long lie. That was all he could think as more events piled on until reaching their climax.

  He took a deep breath and looked right at the box, then to his friend, then back one final time. “You will fix him.”

  He felt normal, yet his eyes were alight with orange fire, like the forges of old. The power traveled down his arms and stabbed itself deep into the box. Gears, sprockets, fittings were all blown out as Han was sent flying back. Quick as he had fallen, he ripped himself back up and watched as the box spun in the air before him. Faster than it could unravel, Aza’s soul was being woven through it. It was tethering him. Now enchanted, this object had, at last, discovered its true purpose. The scholar stood back as the last of the orange lights were consumed by blue. That broken, magical, feeble object became overtaken by the very soul it was bound to. Before his very eyes, Aza began to reform. His body was woven together from the outermost layers of his spirit, while the box served as almost a heart to keep everything together. When all had passed, and he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the enchanter.

  “What...what did you do?” He looked down at his hands, his arms.

  “I am...not fully sure.” Han walked over to his friend, still in disbelief at what he had done. He was going to say more, but Aza spoke first.

  “Thank you.” The puppetmaster was still looking over his fingers. He took a few steps, each one feeling familiar yet alien.

  “Do you feel alright?” He touched Aza’s hand with his own. It felt solid but ice cold.

  “Yeah...I think I do.” His eyes peered around in the ruin as the last of the souls drained out. “We can deal with it later. For now, let's just get out of here.”

  Han nodded and the two commandeered the witch’s carts. As they ascended back to the decimated surface above, another battle was wrapping up out at sea. Fofnir and Bocephus each stood still as a stone, fighting a battle in another world far from this one. Norabelle was on the last throes of a fight against Jobe and two twins. They were the sixty fifth and sixty sixth siblings, but more importantly a hard counter to their adversary’s power. They were what allowed Jobe to get as far as he had, and begin closing out the fight. Norabelle had hoped that her partner would be able to deal with Bocephus, but the longer the battle raged the more wounded and beaten down he became. It all drew to a close when Jobe brought down his sword and finally cracked her weapon in two. Each piece was sent flying away as she was blown back into the mast.

  Jobe stepped forwards, with the twins at his side. He took yet another swig from the gourd tied to his scabbard. “This could have all been avoided if ya had just stayed out of our way and minded ya own damned affairs!” His voice was distorted from his transformation, and movement thrown off from his heavy drinking.

  She pulled herself up and smiled from behind her torn scarf. “That all ya got? No wonder Fujin was able to take them from you so easily.”

  The two twins were stunned by terror, quickly stepping back as their older brother began shifting his form again. They knew what happened to people who brought up his family...and those unlucky enough to be near him.

  “I am going to rip out your heart!” Yet before he could act, Joshua began shouting from the bow of their ship.

  “Retreat! All of you get back on Bocephus' ship!” He was practically jumping up and down as he tried to get his enraged brother’s attention.

  He looked to Norabelle, his brother, and then back. “We have them dead to rights! Let’s end this and get that hag from the mainland!”

  “The Paladins are on their way! Finch, Doblin, and Governor Craw are leading an armada!” He frantically pointed to the south, knowing they didn’t stand a sliver of a chance against them all. “We have to get out of here right now!”

  Both Jobe and Norbelle followed Joshua’s hand. While he couldn’t actually see them, both of the fighters could glimpse the lead ships speeding through the night. Jobe was tempted to just ignore his brother like he did so many other times, but a few more hits from his gourd were enough to calm his nerves. He just snarled at the sea witch and turned around. He picked up Joshua in one hand while the twins climbed onto his back. The deck cracked as he leaped onto the much larger coal ship. His brother disengaged from combat with the other commander and the siblings departed. Joshua kept the orb in his bag in case the witch contacted him again. They couldn’t pick her up here, not anymore. Though, from the blast of light earlier, he doubted she had survived whatever battle transpired. It would be interesting to hear from their informants what went down there, but for now, they merely vanished back into the fog as they headed back to Telikos.

  The two commanders departed as well, wounded yet still alive. Neither of them knew for sure, but it was safe a bet as any that Isabelle was dead. They knew for a fact that the gauntlet was gone, and that most of the old magics there had been broken. But it was not just the witch’s plans and schemes that lie in ruins. Jacob’s Hallow was standing, but nearly a third of it now lay in ruins. The dead had departed but now the living littered the streets as anyone with even an ounce of medical skill rushed to help them. It was bad, but slowly getting better as Gretel directed the fragmented citizens from one place to the next. To her joy, and that of so many others, the rain had stopped as the world around them seemed to calm down.

  While the people of Jacob’s Hallow recovered, Aza and Han began making their way to the broken remnants of the west leviathan. The old track had spat them out a short way from the village. Aside from Han’s sword, and a few pockets full of gold, the rest of the witch’s treasure was left in the carts. They would come back for it later or perhaps the forest would claim it. Either way, it didn’t matter much to them right now. All they wanted to do was get back to town. While either had yet to speak, there was more on their minds.

  “So what now?” Aza looked to Han, weary but genuinely curious.

  He shrugged. “I suppose it would depend on what the Paladins decide to do once they arrive.” The scholar looked to his friend in turn, one of his lenses cracked. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I didn’t expect to live through this...and in a way I was right.” He laughed. “I have
no idea really. I was thinking I would stay here and rebuild, but...I don’t know if that would be a good idea anymore.”

  Han watched his friend touch his hands together. They were solid for a moment, but then passed through one another. “Yes...we will have to deal with that. I am very sorry, but I do not fully grasp how it was I saved you.”

  “It looked to me like you put magic in it. Pretty good for someone with supposedly no talent for that sorta thing.”

  The enchanter tensed. “If you would, I need you to promise something.”

  Aza nodded.

  “Never tell anyone what I did with that trinket. If anyone asks, for any reason, it was already magic.” his words were heavy with worry as he knew what would happen if anyone discovered what he was.

  “I’ll take it to my grave.” He stuck out his hand and his friend shook in return. There was silence after that, but as the embers of morning began to burn it was Han who spoke again.

  “Now, as I said, what happens next will depend on what the Paladins do. Our fates will be in their hands once they arrive.” He took a deep breath. “That being said, I would like to extend an invitation.”

  Aza raised his eyebrow. “Oh?”

  “Come with me back to the university. They should be more than capable of assessing your situation and coming to some remedy.”

  “I’d love to. An adventure in the open world!” His enthusiasm then faltered, fading into melancholy chuckles. “I wish Luke could be here.”

  Han just nodded as the two began scaling the broken ruins of the leviathan. He had only known the farmer for a few days. The scholar had no idea how it must feel to someone who had known him since childhood.

  Aza eventually just shrugged, unable to fight the past. “Life goes on I suppose.” He began to perk back up. “So tell me a little about your nation. I assume it has to be better than here.”

  “It is funny you should ask. I never got to the mainland much while I was there, though…” He stopped talking as the two were suddenly brought to a halt. Just ahead, the rocks and dust began to shift around.

  Aza’s eyes went wide. “No…”

  The witch heaved herself from the broken shards in one labored movement. Slow, strained breaths escaped her lips as she staggered forward. Her body was intact, but bleeding wounds painted her flesh. They were mere scrapes compared to what would have happened had she not woven so much dark magic within herself. That was just one of many thoughts swimming around her foggy mind as she looked around in a daze. Her crimson eyes fell upon the boy who hounded her and the foolish scholar that followed him. The two adversaries were tired but willing to fight. Han was too, drawing his blade as the two magic users stared each other down. Yet there was no new confrontation. Their battle had ended in the cave, and nothing else would change that. The night was over and with it the end of the witch. She looked up to see the sun rising over the horizon. Something forever hidden behind her storms and gloom now seeing the town again for the first time in so very long.

  For a moment she was afraid. Then she looked down to the two varmints one last time. She didn’t know how they had made it out, how Aza was alive, what she could do without anything left to power new spells. She went over a million plans in her head but realized that there wasn’t a single one that would help her. Accepting the end had come, the old woman gave a quick and painful bow. Aza could feel her spirit and its recognition. The act was an acknowledgment that they had won, and, despite all the vile hate still flowing through nearly every fiber of her being, she begrudgingly accepted it. In return, Aza stepped back. Han lowered his sword, confused but knowing to follow his friend. Both he, and Aza, watched as the witch closed her eyes and let the incoming sunlight burn her away. It lasted but a moment, leaving nothing behind.

  Nothing but dust in the wind.

  Chapter 27: A New Dawn

  “So this is it then?” Aza looked out at the shifting waters with optimism, yet also a fear of the unknown.

  “I suppose so.” Han turned away from his friend and to what lay before them.

  Ten warships had lay anchor in the harbor. Many more, and even some kind of castle, lay just beyond but didn’t dare break position. There looked to be three or four variants among them. Some had extra cannons, others were more compact, though most striking of all were a few behemoths made of metal that spewed some black fog. Well, they would have been the most striking had it not been for the first vessel pulling up to the dock. All the other wooden ships flew dark blue sails, lacked figureheads, and despite their variations, were clearly from the same fleet. This one flew red as its primary color with some kind of brass or gold figurehead in the shape of a bird. The entire ship carried a fiery, avian motif. It also had much more metal, with strange cannons or weapons that none on the dock had ever seen.

  “Well here goes nuthin.” Gretel straightened the sides of her torn, stained dress as one of the ship’s gangplanks was lowered. She didn’t know what exactly to expect. While Han had given some advice, and she tangentially knew of them, how exactly the Paladins would react to all this destruction was uncertain.

  First came a group of men in long coats and tricorn hats. Each one wielded bayonet tipped rifles with swords at their side. Together, they formed a circle around the three, while two other ships docked elsewhere and began unloading their troops. Though it wasn’t just foot soldiers that piled off. Once they were properly surrounded, two very distinct men began walking down the gangplank. One was a familiar, old sea captain while the other was a very tired looking gentleman in spiny armor.

  “Well, there ya are!” Shaw extended his arms. “That be him. That one is Aza, and that one be Gretel.”

  The other man strode right up to the three and looked them over. Suspicion and un amusement permeated his wild gaze. “I am Vice Admiral Canthus of the Navel Division of the Paladin Order. I would like to speak with Mayor Barnabee, Tobius Verehaus, and Agnis Beldrum.”

  “I’m afraid they all either perished in last night’s conflict or in the lead up to it the night before.” Gretel spoke calmly and confidently, even as the sting of her loss had yet to pass.

  Shaw was visibly shaken, while the Vice Admiral seemed more irritated than anything. “Well, then who would be someone of authority to speak with?”

  Gretel felt his eyes boring into her. He clearly knew that she was in charge and was annoyed she didn’t say it sooner. “That would be me for the time being.” She stuck out her hand and, to her surprise, he actually shook it.

  “Good. Now let us be ...” He was cut off as fire erupted from one of the crow's nests. The other three stepped back, afraid of some attack or sabotage. Yet, the Vice Admiral just sighed and rubbed his temple, muttering under his breath. “Lord Gabriel why have you forsaken me…”

  The ball of fire shot out and into the air, spinning in the sky like some dazzling circus display. As it came down, the sparking inferno spiraled out like a spring and splashed down beside its spiny subordinate. Ring by ring it squashed down and then back up as it took humanoid form. Like the ship, his color was primarily red, with golds and brown interspersed. It also had much more craftsmanship put into it, with frills, bows, and details not found on any of the others. While human in shape, his head was an orb of flame, with a tall, vibrant ponytail. He brushed the fire, that served as hair, off of his right goggle lense and looked to the people around him.

  “Canthus? Why didn’t you tell me we were already here?” He had a very cheery voice but spoke a lot with his hands.

  “Because, as we discussed, it would be better if I handled things here on the ground.”

  “A discussion where I agreed to nothing.” He Grabbed Gretel’s hand and shook it, bowing and nearly pulling her off the pier as he did so. “Admiral Finch at your service!”

  “Thank you...Admiral…” She shook in return, surprised her hand was only warm, opposed to singed and charred.

  He pulled his hand back and clapped them together. “Now then, you all seem to have dealt wi
th the gauntlet. Or would I be mistaken?”

  “Sir!” The Vice Admiral reared back upon its mention.

  “Yes, though you will need to talk with those two about it.” She nodded to Han and Aza.

  The Admiral looked to both in turn. “Ah, the reluctant puppetmaster and the student of Delathorn!” He motioned to his guards. “Canthus, it will be up to you to question them. Me and the others will handle things on the ground. Tell the other two Vice Admirals to head in. I want medics, troops, and detectives on the ground ten minutes ago!”

  Gretel watched as guards began maneuvering the two boys up to the ship. “You won’t harm them will you?”

 

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