by T Hodden
“Then he can wait.” I said quietly. “Until we are all good and ready.” I grabbed some salt from the pantry and set about clearing room for a magic circle with as many protective spells as I could think of around them.
“I just hope you remember there is an innocent trapped in that body too.” Miss Sussex said in a sharp and frosty tone.
I froze under her stare.
“These parasites don't kill the soul of they body they take.” Sussex continued. “So in there somewhere is a person who has been an unwilling prisoner in their own body. Who knows how long for. I hope you remember that before you take your revenge.”
“Damn it.” I hissed and slumped into a chair. “So no Angel of Death?”
Miss Sussex shook her head. “I know how angry you are. But you need to think long and hard about this before you do something you will always regret.”
“No. We just need to do an exorcism.” I said, jumping out of the chair and flailing around with manic energy. “Drag the Mandrake out of Damon and trap him somewhere so I can slap him so hard the last thing he will ever taste is his own liver.” I rallied my thoughts. “We need three things. A magic circle. Something to make him slacken his grip. Something with a connection to trap him in. The last one is the easiest. The code is in the church and he has been obsessing over it constantly. The first we can do. If every bear takes a few bags of salt we can surround the whole church. Energize the circle and hope that all of us are strong enough to contain him.
“Which just leaves something to draw him out.” Miss Sussex said. “With out hurting the innocent I will add. No flame throwers or blunt objects.”
“Thank you.” Jenny said.
“No. Those are for when we have the bugger trapped.” I greed. “When we want him to sod off to Hell.” I pointed at the circle I was working on across the floor. “This is for what is going to draw him out.” I muttered the incantations and pricked my thumb to power them. “Sylas Sylvan I call upon thee.” I shouted.
“And to what do I owe this pleasure?” Sylas looked at the circle on the floor. “Oh my. So many protective wounds?”
“Cleanse him with fire?” Ginger whispered.
“No.” I said. I saw Jenny about to open her mouth and I held up a finger. “Not enough protection. Not for somebody who keeps an Angel of Death handy as a weapon, or that Kitten.”
“True.” Sylas sighed. “So please unbound me so I can be going. Did I say please? I meant NOW. What ever suicidal idea is festering in your head I will have no part of it.”
“Angel of Death? Did he release the thing that was at the village?” Jenny demanded.
Sylas held up his hand to click his fingers.
“Sire. Please. She just helped trick Doreen into a trap that destroyed her.” I said. “If you make her relive her sins on the receiving end it might be a bit much for punishing ill chosen words.”
“I know.” Sylas lowered his hand. “But do you not want her to feel the panic Doreen experienced when she faded into the theatre and could not fade out. When the magic there made her solid and allowed her enemy to drag her into that circle. The terror she felt as she clawed and punched and tried to break free? The sickening moment when she realised that the call had been a fake. That the child was in no danger and that she had been betrayed by somebody you had trusted? Does the mewling Jenny not deserve that? To understand?”
“No. She deserves to live every moment with the knowledge of what she has done.” I whispered.
“How does he know so much about it?” Tiger asked.
“He watched the pieces on one of his fathers game boards.” Ted said. “And he did nothing.”
“I let a pawn be sacrificed so a Knight could take the game.” Sylas folded his arms. “My father should be proud.”
“Mandrake has lived a long time. And I bet he has a whole shed load of sins to relive.” I said, feeling anger burn in my stomach. “He has killed Doreen twice now. She once described what it was like to be burned away to nothing by lightning tainted with magic. I would very much like him to feel every moment of that in exquisite detail. I'm hoping that Damon has lived a somewhat less sinful life. While one suffers the other should be able to break free.”
“That would be a sound plan if it did not mean I would be forced to stare the villain in the eye at a spitting distance.” Sylas said. “What makes you think for a second I will willingly help you?”
“Oh I don't know. Because deep down you aren't an utter skunk. There is some morsel of goodness left in your soul.” I nodded at the bears. “Or because I bound you here, and frankly I know Ginger wont be able to cleanse you with fire, but I will let him try for as long as he wants.”
“I have a flaming war hammer!” Ginger said, holding out his favourite weapon.
“Very well. What is the first step in your plan?” Sylas conceded.
“We go to the diner. The bears have peanut butter pie and I have a breakfast so English it wears mittens on string, a bobble hat and a Blue Peter badge.” I smiled. “If it is my last meal I can forget the diet.”
We did go to diner. There were milkshakes, peanut butter pie, and I did have a breakfast full of fatty acids. Sylas looked bemused the whole time, less like he was watching a boxer prepare for a prize fight and more like he was watching a condemned man shuffling towards the gallows. Before we left the diner Dad arrived. He did not stay, he was going to make sure Jenny and Mabel were safe. He just dropped off a cardboard box filled with the static buzz of dark magic. The bears stopped looking so cheerful when they saw that.
“The camera?” Mac asked nervously.
I nodded.
The bears edged a little further away from me. I kept the box on my lap and gave them all a confident smile.
“Hey, I know what I am doing.” I lied. The bears muttered and mumbled their disagreements. “Okay, look, truth is I know there is a very good chance I am about to lose this fight. But, this is not about making him pay for Doreen. Not just about that. If I don't stop him now he is free to hurt a lot more people. He unleashed the Angel and a lot of people were hurt, because he doesn't care about them. Maybe tomorrow he decides more people have to die so that he can have what ever power he wants. From Amduscias, or from some other source of very bad news. So if I have to walk into the fire, if I have to give up everything, to make sure he doesn't hurt anybody else, to make sure that Doreen is the last person we mourn, I will. And this plan, for what it is worth, is the best plan I have for making sure you are all safe. I am in the church, you are outside. You make the circle and you don't let it go until he can't hurt anybody else again. If the magic doesn't keep him in there, then your torches and cricket bats and this,” I held up the box, “will. Understand?”
They nodded.
“And of course, I will get the credit.” Sylas said.
“Of course.” I agreed. “Now, if I don't happen to come through the other side. The House Rules are all still in place. No food in bedrooms, no running in the hallway, no online gambling, no red wine. Look after Dad, and keep an eye on Mrs Sussex for me.”
They nodded. One of them wailed a lament and used my sleeve to dry her eyes.
“If.” I assured her. “If. I will be fine. This will work. Mandrake will have no idea what hit him.”
“Shouldn't we go stop him?” Ted asked.
“I think we want him a little more angry and impatient.” Tiger said. “Makes him clumsy. Angry people don't think right.”
I smiled. “Sounds like a plan.” I agreed.
*
We parked by the bottom of the cliffs and took the footpath through the field. For optimal effect the bears hummed along to the soundtrack in their heads and imagined themselves walking in slow motion. What they were humming could not decide if it was Led Zeppelin or ACDC, but pretty much any vintage rock with a hammer line will do.
As we walked there were more bears than should have fit in the van. They just appear from nowhere when you aren't looking.
Ginger was n
o longer in his anorak. He had a leather trench coat and was carrying a chrome plated device with a pressurised cylinder, a nozzle and a pilot light. He was carrying it on a strap so it hung by his hip.
“Is that a flame-thrower?” I asked. “Where did you get a flame-thrower?”
“This? No.” He shook his head. “Napalm Projector. NaP.” He cowered from my glare. “I got it from the internet.”
“The internet.” I whispered. “Okay.” At the edge of the church grounds the bears spread out. They surrounded it and dropped their heavy bags of salt. “No bears.” I shouted as I stepped inside the circle. The humming became a chant. The chant tingled with the power of a spell. I felt all my hairs stand on end. I turned and looked at Sylas. He adjusted his collars, tried to look daring and he stepped into the circle.
I looked over at the church. Damon stood in the doorway, but it was Mandrake who snarled at me. He was dressed all in black and now had a gemstone protruding from the flesh above his eye.
“This is what is going to happen.” Damon hissed. “You will cede your body to me. I will walk into this church and I will use your blood to wake a sleeping dragon. A dragon called Amduscias. A dragon who will recognise its master.” He looked at Sylas. “You can watch if you like.”
“Or my counter offer.” Sylas stood up surprisingly tall and smiled. He clicked his fingers.
Damon howled and fell back. He clasped at his head and staggered.
“Damon. Fight the Mandrake. Force him out of you.” I shouted. “Damon, you are not this monster.”
“Party tricks.” Mandrake laughed. “The Grey King tries to stop me with party tricks and bears?” He stepped into the church and laughed. I looked at Sylas.
“Well. It didn't work. Goodbye.” He shrugged and turned to leave. He remembered the circle.
I left him outside and walked into the church. It seemed bigger on the inside now, more of a cathedral than a church, full of shadows and darkness. In the darkness I could just about see a giant of a figure, who was not quite a lion or a man. He was watching with bemusement.
Amduscias.
“I have lived with my sins for a long while.” Damon spoke through gritted teeth. “They can not hurt me any more. I will not allow it.” He was forcing himself to speak with gritted teeth.
“No. But it takes a tremendous amount of willpower to retain your composure.” I said. “Willpower that should be used to grip hold of your host. But now Damon can fight. Because Jenny and Mabel need him.” I grabbed him and tossed him against the nearest pillar. “If the body starts to break will you cling on or-”
Damon hit the pillar and howled in pain. In two voices. The gemstone fell away from his face and a spectre formed around it. A tall man, stocky and powerful, with hairy arms and a fuzzy beard. Mandrake. Damon howled with fear and ran as fast as he could.
“You think this means you have won?” Mandrake growled, his voice like a hornets nest that somebody had kicked. He flew at me in a rage, grabbing my by the throat and pinning me to the stone floor as punched me time and again. The blows were savage and angry.
“I will kill you!” He roared.
“Then I win.” I said triumphantly.
“Yes.” He stopped. His fist hanging in the air. “You would. So I will do better. I will own you.” His fingers became intangible and slipped into my head. I could feel his barbs digging in to my mind as he tried to take root.
“No!” Amduscias boomed. “You will send his soul to me.”
“I will have him. And through him I will make you kneel before me.” Mandrake hissed. He plunged towards my mind and crashed against my defences.
“Sorry chum.” Ginger announced from the doorway. “NaP time!”
I wont ask how he got into the Church. I guess the 'No Bears' speech was as effective as ever. As a jet of fire scorched the air above me and sent Mandrake skittering aside paws were on my shoulder and dragging me into the shelter of a pew. Tiger, Ted, Mac, Benny and Sprout were all hauling me aside.
There was a sputtering sound as the plume of fire died. Ginger frowned and shook his NaP but the hissing pilot flame blinked out and the pressure gauge dropped to zero. Ginger swore loudly.
“Bears and parlour tricks.” Mandrake screamed as he scooped up the heaviest cross on the Altar and swung it at Ginger, knocking the small bear the length of the church and out into the yard through a stained glass window.
“Nothing in this sleeve...” I muttered, taking the camera from my satchel and pitching it at the spirit. He swung his cross and smashed the wooden box to splinters before he realised what it was. The Scare and Crows exploded impossibly out of the camera, turning on Mandrake with a cacophony of noise and a flurry of raking, biting, scratching, raking and ripping attacks from the magpies and the skeletal figure.
“Sylas! They are yours! Take them to your Kingdom and keep them with your other prizes.” I shouted.
“Yes!” Sylas stepped into the church with a flourish and gave Amduscias a wink as he waved his hands at the whirlpool fight of chaos and cast into his own corner of the Other World. “My father will surely like these trophies.” He said as he stepped out of our world.
The bears cowered behind me as hollow laughter and heavy clapping filled the church. I stopped to look at the demon who stood in the shadows.
“So, our immortal friend thought you were the secret of releasing me?” Amduscias said. He reached out an ethereal hand towards me from the impossible depths of the church. “Yes. I can see it all in your mind. A genetic code. A person who is destined to free me. You have the talent to find them. Or to find a way to release me.”
“No.” I said. “Sorry. I can not. I will not.” I looked at him. “Neither can I destroy you. You will have to patient longer.” I backed away towards the Altar, seeing the pattern in the stone and working out how to use the hidden game board controls to return the inside of the church to the dimensions the outside would allow.
“It was not a request.” Amduscias whispered. “You will. Eventually. And you will be rewarded.” The shadows beside him formed a figure. It was not Doreen. But it was as close as I could ever imagine. “Your one wish, your one desire, will be yours for eternity.”
“At what cost?” I shook my head. “Not one she would ever forgive me for paying.” It hurt me to say it.
“Then I offer you a wonderful boon.” He leered at me. “You will never forget her. You will never know a love like hers again.”
“There is no other love like her.” I promised as the bears outside sung a new chant. The pattern on the altar changed and there was a popping sound as the interior of the church fluxed back to its regular size. The demon was gone. The church was a small chapel. Sound no longer echoed quite as disturbingly and the humidity flopped back to normal. All the unnatural changes I had not noticed before became apparent as they vanished.
“I don't like him.” Tiger said. “And if you don't mind I would rather not see him ever again.”
“Me too.” I agreed, patting myself down to check I had survived. I found all my fresh bruises instead.
“So did we win?” Ted asked.
“Ow.” Said Ginger, limping in with a broken NaP. The weapon fell apart to a number of harmless lumps of useless metal and ceramics. “So what now?”
“I have no idea.” I admitted.
*
A few days later life seemed, to everybody else, to be back to normal. Normal for me. We were hanging around the pool and there was a grill going in the garden. Meats cooked over coals in oil drums cut in half. Dad had a “Kiss me Quick” apron and a sun hat on as he flipped chicken breasts and doused them in marinades. Miss Sussex sat on a sun lounger with a long and tall iced tea that may or may not have been laced with rum. Her father, surprisingly agile for a codger, sat on the edge of the pool trying to teach some of the bears the basics of cricket.
Every now and then I forced a smile on my lips and went rushing off to rescue a bear who was trapped in a tree, flying down a hill in a shopp
ing trolley, or some other small ursine disaster. But most the time I stared at my reflection. The Demon had promised I would never forget Doreen and he had kept that promise in the most evil way I could imagine.
Each day, when I thought I was going to wake up and forget her face, forget her being, she would be there, waiting for me, in my reflection. Just out of focus, just over my shoulder, always waiting for me, always in pain. When I stared at myself in windows, in mirrors, in the water of the pool.
Jenny and Damon were gone. I didn't know where. I had no intention of finding them. I just hoped I never saw either of them again. The anger would destroy me. I stared at my mocktail. It was something the bears created out of mango juice, crushed ice and sour syrup. Even the cherry on the end of the cocktail stick didn't make me feel sunny.
I glanced over at Tiger, who was busy splashing around.
“Tomorrow we should go to the place that does the waffles.” I told her. “And get one so naughty it might have been Jack The Ripper.”
Tiger nodded and smiled.
There is a moment in your life that the things you know should be strange, aren't. Killer Clowns, Demons, Ghosts, the whole lot just stops being odd. It is scary, but the funny thing is, it makes the normal days, the boring days, the peaceful days seem all the better.
I missed Doreen. I would never forget. But maybe when I looked in the mirror I could learn to be happy I had known her. After all, who knows what is going to fall from the sky tomorrow.
Fisher And The Bears Will Return...
Epilogue:
The woman was scrawny and ageless. She stumbled through the car park in the blazing heat of a dry summer morning. Somewhere behind her were mountains clad in grey rock and olive coloured scrub and grass. The air was dry and sapped what little strength she had left from her body. Yet she still shivered as she walked, barefoot, her plain white vest and underpants clinging to her, dripping seawater behind her. Her skin was as pale as ivory and her hair so blonde it was platinum white. Unnaturally blonde. Her lips were pale, her eyes pink like a rabbits. Her sodden footprints crossed the battered surface of the car park.