Belle, Book and Candle: A Fantasy Novel by Nick Pollotta

by Nick Pollotta

  “The hunting lodge ... what was that?”

  “We don’t care where he is,” Rissa stated. “We only want to know where he is not.”

  That took a moment to decipher, and in spite of everything, Laura slowly smiled. “My God, you’re going after his workshop!” she muttered in grudging admiration.

  “And you better know where it is, and how to get past the defenses,” Colt stated, spreading out the map. “Because otherwise you’re useless to us.”

  “A liability,” Rissa added, stressing the word.

  Defiantly, Laura curled a lip to valiantly sneer at the couple. But she couldn’t maintain the false air of bravado for very long, and slumped in defeat. “Tasmania?”

  “Or Timbuktu. Your choice.”

  Sullenly, Laura grunted. “Exactly how large a deposit are we talking about?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “False alarm!” Dominic announced, returning to the office. “The gars thought they saw a plane.”

  Close behind the man lumbered a pair of the granite gargoyles, the floor shaking slightly with their every step. Their chains had been removed, but the collars were still in place, the thick bands of spiked leather covered with the mystic runes for Obedience, Silence, Enslavement, and Litter Box.

  Glancing about, Dominic was surprised not to see Laura standing guard at the window. He considered it very odd for the woman to abandon her post on the eve of battle.

  “Laura?” Dominic called toward the bathroom. When there was no reply, he gestured and the locked door swung aside to reveal that the little room was empty.

  Now highly suspicious, Dominic used a minor ring and called out her full name, the words briefly visible in the air as wisps of fire. “Heed me, Laura Stone!”

  In booming majesty, the words echoed throughout the entire hunting lodge from attic to basement, rattling the dishes in the kitchen, the bottles in the wine cellar, and almost setting off the Claymore mines attached to the front door.

  Steadily increasing in power, her name rolled away from the lodge to cross the grounds, startling the enslaved workers, billowing the leaves on the ground, frightening the birds in the distant trees, and setting off car alarms in the parking lot.

  Holding his breath, Dominic listened closely for any response. When nothing came, he angrily gestured widely with both hands.

  “By the rune of blood, I summon thee, Laura Stone!” he intoned, a shimmering golden oval appearing in the air for a single moment before fading away to nothing.

  Spitting a curse, Dominic kicked a wooden chair. It streaked across the office like a missile and slammed into the far wall, to explode into splinters and sawdust.

  The spell of Summoning had clearly worked, but since she had not appeared that could only mean either that Laura was dead or somehow her rune of Enslavement had been neutralized. But since even he didn’t know how to accomplish that, the former must be true. Such a pity; she was rather stupid, but quite wonderful in bed.

  “So the war finally begins in earnest,” Dominic snarled, flexing both hands, miniature lightning bolts crackling among his many rings.

  In an odd way, he felt almost relieved over the death of the woman. Dominic had known from the start this matter would end in bloodshed. How could it not? Laura was merely the first to fall in the coming apocalypse. He had told Laura that his goal was merely survival, but that had been a lie.

  His real goal was to obtain enough rings to raise his dead homeland from the bottom of the sea. Freed from the neutralizing effect of salt water, the slumbering armies of Atlantis would spread across the globe, smashing down this so-called modern civilization and elevating his people to their rightful place as the absolute masters of the world!

  Unbidden, a flood of ancient memories filled his mind with golden images of hearth and home, his brothers and sisters playing with their eggs, his first taste of brimstone, the wonderful feel of the wind under his wings as—

  Just then a strange noise interrupted his reverie. It was low and faint, like

  somebody humming tunelessly in the next room, or an angry bee trapped in the closet.

  Puzzled, Dominic glanced around the office at the electrical equipment but could not find a source for the hum, which was rapidly becoming a soft buzz. The odd noise steadily got louder until the walls were vibrating, the rifles in the gun cabinet were shaking, and the crystal chandelier in the lobby started softly tinkling.

  Is somebody trying to Summon me, or is this an earthquake? Dashing to the window, Dominic looked outside and darkly scowled at the sight of six biplanes flying over the highway and coming straight toward the lodge.

  Squinting, he recognized them as common crop dusters, Grumman Ag Cats and Piper Cubs, the modern day replacements for the old World War One biplanes of yesteryear. They were nothing unusual to see in farming country any time of the year. Except that these planes seemed to be flying in battle formation with the sun directly behind them and heading straight for the Imperial Lodge.

  His survival instinct surged in warning at that, and every ring Dominic wore blazed with power as an iridescent Dome quickly formed to shield him from the expected barrage of falling bombs.

  As the noise steadily increased, Dominic slapped his hands together to form an Eye. Looking deep into the swirling ball of crystalline light, he got it focused onto the sky above the hunting lodge just as the little planes turned on their after sprinklers and a sparkling white powder cascaded down to spread across the estate like fresh winter snow.

  Within only seconds, the tennis courts, the pool house, stables, helipad, and the lodge itself were thickly coated with the white powder.

  As it fell across the workers, they each shuddered, then abruptly turned toward the lodge and charged, snarling and hissing in unbridled rage!

  “Time to die, Father!” a pair of twins bellowed in loose harmony, long white fangs extending over their pale lips.

  Scowling in annoyance, Dominic mentally dismissed the entire army of his children. Instantly they all exploded into ash, the fine grit mixing unnoticed with the glistening wintry downpour.

  From the untoward reaction of his slaves, it was clear to him that the material coming down outside could only be salt. Plain ordinary salt. Only more of the accursed stuff than he had ever seen amassed together in three thousand years.

  Deep down in his bones, Dominic could actually feel the formation of a crude Anti-Magic Circle close around the lodge like a door slamming shut. Instantly his every ethereal connection to the outside world was severed and the Eye exploded, the whiplash effect of the terminated spell leaving him rocking and breathless.

  By the lost gods! It was incredible but true. He was now actually trapped inside the lodge, unable to Teleport, Jump, Fly, or even walk away from the rustic building. Imprisoned like a soul in a jar.

  Roaring in joyous freedom, the gargoyles ripped off their dead collars. Spreading their stone wings, they launched straight upward, smashing through the ceiling and roof to explode into the sky! Spiraling about, the laughing gargoyles gave voice to monstrous songs of praise for their unknown liberators.

  Watching the former slaves through the gaping hole in the roof, Dominic grudgingly admitted that this bizarre attack had been a brilliant opening move in this secret war. Now he had to conjure more gargoyles ... right after escaping from this crude circle of salt.

  Dismissing the Dome, he strode to the desk and sat in the wheeled chair to hesitantly peek at the complex control panel set alongside the softly humming computer. When a light flashed green, he rushed back to the window.

  Hands on his hips, Dominic grinned widely as sprinklers popped into view from under the grass and began pumping out a wide pulsating spray. Slowly the thick coating of highway rock salt began to trickle away, cutting tiny channels through the Circle.

  “Excellent,” Dominic said, straightening the lapels of his business suit. Soon he would be free to ... ring!

  He felt stunned. By the dark lords, why hadn’t he thought
of this sooner? Whoever had killed Laura might have taken her ring as a trophy! They were probably practicing with it at this very moment, learning how to levitate objects, summon fire, and cast hexes.

  “Big mistake,” Dominic whispered, flexing both of his hands impatiently as the inhibiting field of salt began to slowly dwindle away ...

  ***

  The brick-lined alley behind the All-American Soul Food restaurant was cool, dark, and smelled of greasy frying fish. There were towering stacks of empty wooden boxes along both walls, a homeless man peacefully snoring underneath the greasy exhaust fan of the restaurant, and a skinny rat noisily lapping at a small puddle of dirty water.

  Hunkered down behind a garbage bin which had been incongruously decorated with sunflower decals for some unknown reason, Rissa and Colt were impatiently biding their time and carefully watching the huge warehouse on the next block. A sign in the window said that the Meternich Import/Export Exchange was temporarily closed for renovations, but the windows were streaked with years of accumulated dirt, bird nests lined the roof, and the entire building had a general air of abandoned disuse.

  “What do you think?” Rissa asked, removing her dragonbone rings and putting them on different fingers as if the position made any difference in their operation.

  In spite of the time of day, traffic was sparse on the intervening street: merely a few rattling delivery trucks and the occasional pedestrian who seemed quite confused as to why the Savannah city council had decided to build a slum on the outskirts of the beautiful antebellum metropolis.

  “This looks as easy as eating pie,” Colt muttered, adjusting the focus on his binoculars. “Which naturally makes me highly suspicious.”

  “Same here, my love,” Rissa muttered, forcing both hands down to her sides. “Unfortunately, this is the only way inside Dominic’s lair.”

  “Did you say lair?”

  “Lair.”

  “Lair?”

  “Lair! That is, of course, unless Laura lied.”

  “Not possible,” Colt declared, lowering the binoculars. “After attending so many business meetings together, and conducting hundreds of corporate negotiations, I can generally tell when that lunatic is telling the truth or spinning bullshit into Egyptian cotton.”

  “Generally?”

  “Nothing’s perfect.”

  Rolling over in his sleep, the homeless man began to loudly snore.

  Nudging Colt with an elbow, Rissa tilted her head in that direction. Colt nodded in agreement and rummaged in his pockets to give her half of the remaining cash and one of his business cards. Gently wiggling her fingers, Rissa sent the items floating over to the sleeping man and tucked them safely into a pocket where no passerby could possibly spot them. Then she grandly gestured, washing the man thoroughly, shaving off his beard, trimming his hair, and cleaning his suit until it looked brand new.

  Leaning over, Colt kissed her on the cheek. Sometimes saving the world was accomplished one person at a time.

  Just then a distant church bell began to chime the noon hour. In perfect harmony, a soft buzz came from one of Colt’s pockets, and he pulled out the cell phone to flip it open.

  “Okay, our delivery has arrived,” he said, closing it again with a jerk of the wrist. “Right now, Dominic should be ass deep in rock salt.”

  “Hopefully,” Rissa whispered without any real enthusiasm. “Unfortunately, we have no way of knowing that for sure, or how long it will take the maniac to tunnel out of a Circle.”

  “Which means time is of the essence.”

  “Correctamundo! So, move it or lose it, big boy.”

  “I ... I’m a little uncomfortable about this.” Colt muttered, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a crumpled linen handkerchief.

  She touched his arm. “Sorry, my love, but there’s no other way.”

  “Still ...”

  “Yeah, I know. However, I can’t do it!” she stated, displaying her eight amber rings. “When I tried on Devil’s Tower, they got really upset. Downright belligerent!”

  Her rings got belligerent. What a very strange day this was turning out to be. “Agreed,” Colt said, opening the cloth and pulling out Laura’s ring. The tiny winged dragon carved into the golden material seemed to glare at him, both of its emerald eyes flashing with hostile intent.

  “Look, if things go wrong ... I love you.”

  “Ditto, ad infinitum.”

  Taking a deep breath, Colt slid on the ring.

  Braced for any kind of a negative reaction, he kept his left hand on the ring, ready to rip it off again. But when nothing happened, Colt visibly relaxed, then blinked.

  “Anything wrong?” Rissa asked, taking a step backward to swing up the shotgun.

  “Not really, no,” Colt said hesitantly, his temples visibly pounding.

  Warily, Rissa placed a finger on the trigger.

  Suddenly several years seemed to fade off Colt’s handsome face and the man stood taller, his shirt threatening to rip apart from a wealth of new muscles.

  Lowering the weapon, Rissa gave a whistle of appreciation. Colt had always been handsome, but now he looked like a young Greek god. Apollo, Ares, and Hercules rolled into one. Mega-yummy. The portrait of her grandmother had said that each ring would respond differently to its new owner, but she had no idea this sort of effect was even possible!

  “I feel ... odd,” Colt rumbled, flexing his arms as a button popped off his stretching shirt.

  “Evil?”

  “No ... just kind of, well, horny.”

  Does he now? That’s interesting. “But no urge to rule the world or kill people and eat their flesh?”

  “Good lord, no! Oh, my dear, you are so amazingly gorgeous!”

  “Yeah, you’re fine,” Rissa sighed in relief, and leaned in to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

  Grabbing her about the waist, Colt bodily lifted Rissa off the pavement and pulled her close for a much more intimate kiss. What the man had only been pretending to do in Collete’s apartment he now did in earnest, putting his body into the long, ardent, embrace.

  “Wow,” Rissa whispered when they finally broke apart.

  “Yeah! Look ... is there any chance we could steal a few moments to ... you know?” Colt shyly grinned, the front of his pants starting to embarrassingly bulge.

  “Down, boy!” Rissa commanded, freeing herself from his massive arms and dropping to the ground. “Warehouse first, sex later.”

  “Really?” Colt asked plaintively, his hands hovering only inches away from her. “Promise?”

  “Word of honor,” Rissa managed to get out, hastily waving a hand toward the front of the alley. “Now scoot!”

  Colt gave a smoldering glance that actually made her knees weak. Then he turned to walk away, his new body moving with the powerful grace of a jungle panther.

  Stumbling after the hunky hulk, Rissa tried not to stare at his broad shoulders and perfect behind. The blood was pounding so hard in her ears it was hard to hear, much less think straight. Colt had been desirable before, extremely so! But now the man was supernaturally hot, even sexier than the male fashion models in clothing catalogues.

  Just for a moment Rissa wondered what he would look like now, stark naked and slathered in baby oil, candlelight gleaming off his rock-hard muscles as he slowly approached like a midnight knight ready to intimately joust for the affections of his eagerly waiting queen ...

  Slapping herself across the face, Rissa forcibly dispelled the wildly erotic images. Holy crap, if we keep this ring, we’re going to need a full year for the honeymoon! Possibly two or three.

  Just before reaching the sidewalk, Colt shimmered and turned into an exact duplicate of Laura wearing a thin summer dress that left absolutely nothing to the imagination; only the duffel bag remained.

  That sight instantly cooled Rissa’s passion. There was nothing like seeing your boyfriend in a dress to kill any possible amorous thoughts.

  Flipping his long blonde hair over a shoulder, Co
lt strode directly across the street uncaring of the oncoming traffic and causing a speeding delivery van to frantically swerve out of the way to avoid a collision.

  “Whatareyablind?” the driver shouted out the window; then his demeanor softened into a sappy expression. “Sorry, miss! Totally my fault! Buy you a drink? Two drinks? A car?”

  “No, thanks!” Colt replied cavalierly, waving a hand as he waltzed into another dark alley.

  “Really, no problem!” the driver shouted, leaning dangerously far out of the window.

  “Sorry, but she’s mine!” Rissa called out, dashing after Colt into the shadows.

  With a heartfelt sigh, the driver shifted gears and got the van back into motion. But he never stopped looking backward at the two women in the gloomy alley until they were gone from sight.

  Stopping at a blank section of the cinderblock wall, Colt stroked his red fingernails along the rough surface until a steel door magically appeared. There was no lock or handle, only a small electronic keypad.

  As Colt started to reach for the buttons, Rissa stayed his hand and pulled out a small compact. Using the attached brush to loosen some of the face powder, she carefully blew the material across the keypad. It swirled away, adhering to only six of the buttons.

  “That was clever!” Colt whispered, bumping her with a hip.

  “Saw it in an Ellery Queen mystery movie.”

  “And who is she?”

  “Oh, you’re going to get along just fine with my folks.”

  “Certainly hope so,” said Colt as he tapped in the access code.

  Immediately there came a low thumping, and the armored door ponderously slid aside to the sound of a working hydraulic pump. Beyond the entrance, there was only pitch darkness.

  Checking their rings, Rissa and Colt stepped inside, and the door cycled shut to close behind them with an echoing boom.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “Alone at last,” Colt chuckled in a throaty whisper, pulling Rissa closer.

  She was excited at first, but as their breasts touched, Rissa made an inarticulate noise, and quickly found his hand to yank off the glowing ring and cast it aside. The ring hit the floor with a musical chime and slowly rolled away into the darkness, almost as if it were unwilling to leave the couple.