Wizard Hall Chronicles Box Set

by Sheryl Steines

  “It’s on the list. You and I can go. I’m starting to worry about him. He’s thirteen and alone now.”

  “I can’t imagine Emily had many options. She hadn’t lived in the U.S. in twenty years and can’t teleport. He’s got to be in the city somewhere. I say let’s go to Antique Symposium.”

  They teleported onto the roof of the townhouse and entered, taking one more look though the building just in case the boy had returned home. It was as empty as when the VAU had opened it the first time. They exited the house. The courtyard was empty in the middle of the week. Next, they followed the path Emily would take every morning for work.

  “Such a waste,” Shiff said as they walked past Shiloh’s favorite convenience store, glancing inside for his red hair.

  They continued on and turned where Emily had turned the last day she had worked for the Fraternitatem. Spencer and Shiff glanced around the street. There was minimal street traffic and only one person walking toward the main road.

  At Antique Symposium, Shiff stood guard as Spencer magically popped the lock and opened the door, letting themselves in. The door opened to a small entrance. A staircase went up to the right and a hallway wandered off to the left. They opened the first door on the left, but it was empty. Spencer shined his flashlight against the walls and floors. Both wizard guards ran their hands across the walls, searching for a hidden door.

  After crossing the room, they exited and entered the next two rooms on the left, coming out of each with no new information. Beyond the first three rooms was a large kitchen area, refrigerator, stove, sink, and microwave. Spencer opened the closet door. It was lined with shelves and packed with empty boxes.

  “This is very bizarre,” Spencer commented. He turned and saw Shiff at an open basement door.

  “Yeah, it is. I hear something,” Shiff said.

  Spencer texted the VAU and followed Shiff down the rickety wooden stairs. Both illuminated the walls and floors of the cellar. Rock walls were covered in dirt and cobwebs, and a heavy old furnace was silent and cold in the corner. They both ran their lights behind the mechanicals.

  “Shiloh! Shiloh are you here!” Spencer shouted.

  Shiff opened an armoire. It was empty. “Shh,” he said.

  They walked the perimeter of the basement. After a minute, they heard something banging into wood. Shiff ran for a coal bin and yanked up the lid. It was empty, except for a thick layer of coal dust that had been there for decades.

  Spencer held a finger over his lips as he slunk slowly along the back wall. He stepped down where the floor had sunk. Shiff walked away from him toward one side of the room, wiping cobwebs from his hair and shirt. Together, they walked the perimeter of the room again, meeting at a door that was hanging askew, a light shining below from a crack in the floor.

  Someone banged on the door. “Mom! Mom!” The voice was scared and panicked.

  Spencer texted Graham Lightner, who found himself on the second floor. He and Sky Allen teleported themselves to the basement. Spencer pointed at the door.

  “MOM!” the boy cried.

  “Shiloh! My name is Spencer Ray. I work with the U.S. Wizard Guard. I’m friends with Annie and Samantha. Can I come in?”

  “Where’s my mom?”

  “Can I come in? I’ll explain it then.”

  “I can’t open the door. It’s locked.”

  Spencer held his palm at the handle and twisted his wrist, popping the lock. He opened the door. The room was dimly lit and consisted of a bed, a desk, and a bookshelf filled with comic books. The remnants of two meals lay on the floor, half eaten.

  “What the hell,” Spencer murmured.

  “Where’s Mom?”

  “She tried to kill Annie. She’s back at prison.” Spencer said. He held his hand out to the boy, who sheepishly took it.

  “I can see Annie and Samantha?”

  Spencer nodded. “What did your mom tell you when she left you here.”

  He shook his head and began to cry.

  “Okay. It’ll be okay,” Spencer reassured him. “Let’s get you somewhere safe.” He and Shiff walked Shiloh out, and teleported him to the only family he had left.

  *

  Annie stopped crying when she read Spencer’s text. She sprayed water on her face and waited for her brother to arrive. It was the final straw for her, the one that released her from conflict about her mother. It wasn’t enough that her mother tried to kill her; Emily had also left her son to die without a second thought.

  Annie’s hands shook when she opened the door, unsure if Shiloh, was brainwashed to kill her. It was a chance she would have to take as she stared down at his thin frame and his dirty, tear-stained face.

  “Hi, Shiloh. Come in.”

  He cautiously followed her inside, staring at her home—a real home with furniture and walls and wood floors. Shiloh must not have had these things, growing up with the Fraternitatem as his family.

  “She left me to die,” Shiloh murmured. Annie wrapped a blanket around his shivering body and held him tightly. “She’s the bad one. Not you,” he said.

  “Something happened to her when she finally saw Samantha and me. Everything she had been brainwashed to believe left her conflicted. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t stop. Her mind isn’t well. You are safe here. I promise you that.”

  He wiped his eyes. “Can I stay here?”

  Annie looked at him. His eyes were hers, as were the curve of his lips and the shape of his face. Without wanting to hurt him, she said, “As long as you need.”

  As much as she had hoped she would never have to see Emily and Shiloh again, Annie knew two things in that moment: First, she couldn’t send him away. Second, her life would forever be changed.

  One year later…

  The portal had been an unexpected surprise. It had also become a burden to Annie, a lifelong responsibility that she would have, as well as her children and their children. She hadn’t taken the inheritance of the Snake Head Letters lightly.

  Annie stood outside the once-dingy storefront. The bricks had been cleaned, the trim replaced and repainted, and a new front window installed. A stronger door hung straight, without a jingle in the handle. She poked her finger in the blood lock, closed the door behind her, and locked it up again.

  The inside had undergone the most changes. The walls had been painted and a new wood floor gleamed. While the Snake Head Letters no longer existed as a business, the store had bookshelves along the east wall, that contained books, artifacts, maps, and other miscellaneous scrolls. Tables and chairs had been placed in the room, as well as a few sofas and overstuffed chairs. It was more like a library or a meeting space for secret organizations. That always made Annie chuckle.

  She crossed the floor. As much as the magical community had relied on this store and what Mortimer could do for them, any former patrons now had to rely solely on the black market for their magical needs. Annie was okay with that.

  Her fingers grazed the glass and wood display case on the west side of the room. It contained her personal memorabilia relating to her ancestors, as far back as the original coven. While it could have been stored at Artifact Hall, Annie had decided to keep it close, near the portal for which she was now responsible. She took a seat at the desk in the far corner, in the space that now acted as a combination library and artifact hall. The space now had the sole purpose of protecting the portal, studying it, and, in very rare cases, using it.

  The heavy oak desk had a phone and a pile of phone messages and mail for First Coven, Inc. The similarities to the Fraternitatem of Solomon weren’t lost on Annie. She just hoped they did a better job with their task than the Fraternitatem had.

  Annie glanced up when the door swung open and Emerson Donaldson walked through the door. As the Donaldsons were one of the original covens that came from England, Emerson had been invited to join First Coven and given priority when it came to access to the space. It was Annie’s peace offering to Emerson after realizing it wasn’t the you
ng woman’s fault her family withheld information. Other members of her family had been arrested and convicted of treason as a result, but Emerson had never been involved and did everything she could to make up for their mistakes.

  “Good morning, Annie,” Emerson said cheerfully.

  The young woman was still the best researcher in the Wizard Guard and had recently decided that being a full guard wasn’t her skill set. She transferred to the library as an assistant librarian at Wizard Hall and now acted as a liaison between the Wizard Guard and Artifact Hall. The last year had tested her resolve and she had moved on from her family’s mistakes. Annie and Emerson hadn’t looked back.

  “I don’t know if you saw this or not. It was attached to the door.” Emerson handed her an envelope addressed in Sturtagaard’s flowery hand.

  Annie made a face. “Thanks.” She pocketed it.

  “What do we need to do this morning?” Emerson asked.

  “Just a check on the portal. These messages need to be sorted and answered.” Annie glanced at her watch.

  “Are you heading back to Wizard Hall? I can stay and handle those before I head to work.”

  Annie smiled at Emerson and handed her the messages. “For a few hours and then I’m off for the next two weeks. Wedding stuff.” She walked to the metal door under the staircase.

  The First Coven had been a distraction for Annie as she attempted to pick up the pieces of her life. Between Cham’s injury, planning the wedding, and getting to know her half brother, it had been a long year. Over that time, she had worked with Emerson and other descendants of the original coven to clean and restore the Snake Head Letters and to create the foundation to protect and monitor the magic inside. In that time, Annie and Emerson had become friends. Annie no longer blamed Emerson for what had happened with the prophecy or her trip to the past, and in turn, she gained a good friend and ally.

  Still, Annie and Shiff were the only two wizards with access to the portal. She pricked her finger in the blood lock and opened the strong metal door. The two women entered the room, which still was made up only of rock walls, dirt floor, and the portal. As always, the portal pulsed when Annie entered.

  “It still senses you,” Emerson said. She ran her crystal across and around the magic, taking readings.

  “How’s it doing?” Annie asked as she reached out to touch the magic. Goosebumps trailed up her arm and the itching under her skin stopped.

  “Same as last week. It’s no longer gaining strength, and thankfully, it’s not losing any. I think we’re managing it well.”

  “We’ll have to note that when we have our meeting. It’s good to know the charms and wards are working.”

  After Annie and Emerson closed up the portal, Emerson took her place at the desk and began to make her calls.

  “See you at the hall,” Annie said and left the building.

  Before teleporting away, Annie pulled out Sturtagaard’s note and stared at his handwriting. She had let him live after he asked her to stake him. Annie knew the vampire was miserable, living in his pain and agony. That gave her a great deal of pleasure. Though she rarely thought of him, there were those times when he entered her thoughts, and his pain brought her some justice and she’d smile at least until the thought passed.

  Annie began to tear at the envelope in half but quickly changed her mind. Hating that he knew her so well, she opened his letter.

  Annie,

  Meet me at the warehouse. I have something to discuss with you.

  Sturtagaard

  She saw the note for what it was, another game perpetrated by Sturtagaard, and yet, she couldn’t resist. He knew she couldn’t.

  Rather than heading for work, Annie teleported to the warehouse where it had all begun for her and Sturtagaard on the day she sought out Jordan Wellington in the death of Princess Amelie. Sturtagaard had been there, inserting himself into the case like he would on several others.

  Annie landed in the alley between the two factories and looked up to the open loft window that was waiting for her. She sighed and teleported into the building. The loft hadn’t changed since she had been there last; it was still clean and fresh and, Annie thought, likely used very little.

  Unsure she was alone, she glanced out the window and listened for employees. The warehouse sounded abandoned. She leaned against the wall and waited.

  Minutes later, Sturtagaard climbed the staircase. His heavy footsteps pounded against the wood, the sound reverberating off cement walls. When he entered the loft, she continued to stare off into the alley. Irritated, the vampire cleared his throat.

  Annie shrugged. “You asked me to come. I’m here.”

  He sauntered over confidently. Annie turned and he tossed her a stake, the same one he had offered her a year ago.

  She caught the stake midair and held it for him. “I told you I didn’t care anymore.”

  He shook his head. “I tried by myself. I can’t do it.”

  “Why? Why now?”

  “I’ve lived long enough and I don’t scare you. You won.” He looked dejected.

  “Well, duh. I’m smarter than you.” Annie said.

  He no longer pushed her buttons and that was the final straw. Resigned to his death, he walked to her. That familiar chill radiated from the vampire’s skin. He pulled an envelope from inside his wool overcoat.

  “What’s this?”

  He shrugged and stood before her, his hands out, his arms wide open. “Do it. End my misery.”

  She glanced inside the envelope. There was close to ten thousand dollars inside.

  “Why?”

  “Do it,” he said.

  Annie flipped the stake. When it smacked against her palm, he didn’t flinch.

  She thought for a moment of the direction her life was heading. Two weeks from now, she’d be married. In the future, she expected there might be a kid or two. She didn’t want to look over her shoulder and worry that he’d be there waiting.

  Maybe it’s time for Sturtagaard to go.

  Her emotions swirled around her in conflict. She had been so angry at him for what he had done to her family, for giving her to the Fraternitatem and taking away her mother and her father. She had wanted him dead. The whole wizard guard had wanted him dead for all the things he had done over the past millennium. But for Annie, knowing he was miserable gave her great pleasure, and she didn’t think killing him would be as fun.

  She observed him carefully. Sturtagaard had lived with so much fury for so long, with no end to his suffering. He had once been a man with a wife and child, who both died savagely. Sometimes their faces snuck into Annie’s dreams at night, and she’d wake in a cold sweat.

  Maybe ending his misery, would make the dreams stop.

  She stared at the stake.

  “Please.”

  In all the years Annie had known the vampire, she had never heard him beg or cry or kneel before her, so absolutely needing something from her. Even a bag of blood usually rendered nothing but jeers.

  If I hold on to my anger, I’ll be no better than him.

  Annie took a step closer until she was so close, she shivered in his chill. She plunged the stake into his chest, piercing his heart. She stepped back as his body burst into flame.

  The flames were fierce and angry as they consumed his demon flesh, washing away the unclean thing he had been for over eleven hundred years.

  She held her breath. Sturtagaard remained on his knees, silent and stoic. The fire continued to eat away at the demon, releasing the human. His eyes lightened to his original blue, and his fangs curled up and disappeared. He smiled, an honest, fearless, human smile. The sneer she was so accustomed to was no longer there.

  “Thank you,” he said, then cried out from the pain.

  Annie watched him die with the same intensity with which he watched her; she dared not look away in case there was something he had left to say. Slowly, he melted—his hands, his arms, his chest, his face—until nothing of the vampire was left except a pile of
ash.

  His final cries echoed around her. She shuddered and stared at his remains for some time. When enough time passed, when the sun was directly above her, she cleaned up Sturtagaard’s remains, tucked them safely inside her field pack, and teleported through the window.

  *

  Annie’s boots clicked against the stone floor, echoing around her as she walked to the only cell in this wing. She slowed her pace as apprehension washed over, just like it did every month when she visited her mother. Even after a year of monthly visits, seeing her mother was just as raw as it had been the day Annie came to her after Emily tried to kill her.

  She sighed and reminded herself she was only there to ensure her mother was still locked away, unable to harm her children again.

  She stopped before the cell doors, took a deep breath, and walked in front of the metal bars.

  Emily was reading a book, lounging in a comfortable club chair. Her legs hung over the high arm rest. She looked up when Annie jangled the bars.

  “Annie!” she shrieked, delighted to see her youngest daughter had come for a visit.

  After she tried to kill her, they were unsure of what they should really do with Emily. For all intents and purposes, she had been kidnapped and brainwashed and most likely wouldn’t have wanted to kill Annie had it not been for the Fraternitatem of Solomon.

  Unfortunately for Emily, she had gone through with the plan to take Annie’s life. Annie had made the decision that she’d rather lock her mother away in Tartarus Prison rather than an nonmagical one.

  The cell had been set up much like an apartment with a bed, two comfortable chairs, and a television that only ran from five to ten at night. There had to be some consequence for attempted murder; though from Annie’s perspective, this didn’t seem like much of a punishment.

  “Hi, Mom,” Annie said. She whipped her wrist across the bars; they slid open, disappearing inside the rock wall. She stepped inside as Emily offered her a seat.

  “What are you doing here? Did I forget you were coming?” Emily sat in the chair beside Annie and smiled expectantly.