Gustav tapped his head with one long finger. “I learned how. Magic is limited by knowledge. You have to know what you want and how to make it happen, yes? What is chemical composition of gold? Do you know? If not, you can make pretty colored rock instead of the real thing. Magic is a tool. Like a knife, or wheel. Is only as good as what you know.”
Danny held the gold in his trembling hands. He didn’t know how much gold went for per ounce, but he guessed he was holding that dirt bike in his hands—and then some. His heart rate increased. He licked his lips. While he stared at it, Gustav got up and went into the kitchen. He returned with a fresh cup of coffee and stubbed his cigarette out in an ashtray.
“Here.” Gustav held out his hand.
Danny regretfully returned the gold. Then he glanced around the living room. The place was a dump.
“How come you live here, Gustav? I mean, if you can make gold, then you could live in any mansion you wanted. Why even live in Brackard’s Point? You could be in a Manhattan penthouse.”
“I like it here. I get a mansion then I have to make money all the time just to keep it up. Here, I have little house. I clean it myself and don’t worry about money. I need more, I can always get it. Money is a tool, too. Just like magic.”
“Yeah, but it’s a nice tool to use.”
“You are young. You do not understand.” Gustav tapped the gold lump. “This can buy you things, but then you have to make more. Sooner or later, people ask questions you don’t want to answer.”
He handed the gold back to Danny.
“I can keep it?” Danny asked, surprised.
Gustav nodded. “Da, you keep. But, you also go to school instead of hunting crabs for money. Go to school because you need to learn, yes?”
That was all the convincing Danny needed. Already, he was figuring out how to cash in the gold and where he’d keep the money until he could get the dirt bike. No way could he let his mom find the cash. Not this time.
He paused in his thoughts.
“Gustav, can magic change people?”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, my mom. She’s a drunk. Can I make her sober with magic?”
“For that, you need a lot of school. What part of her mind do you change? You make her not want alcohol and maybe she wants cocaine, instead. You make her not want anything then maybe she forgets to eat and starves. Your mother stays clean and maybe she wonders why you spend so much time with old Russian bum, yes? Nyet. The mind is dangerous to play with. Your brain must be strong first.”
“But it can be done?”
“Why you think love spells work so good? Of course it can be done! But first, you must know the mind, or you make bad mistakes.”
“Have you ever made a mistake?”
“Yes,” Gustav whispered. “Many mistakes. Many sacrifices.”
“Sacrifices? Like, what kind?”
“Is not important. What is important is that you go to school before truant officer finds you here. We would both have to explain, yes? And that wouldn’t be good. Now go.”
789
Weeks passed. Danny went back to school and studied hard. Soon, he forgot about the dirt bike and escaping Brackard’s Point. He pushed those plans aside and focused on class instead. He begged off doing things with his friends and went to the library instead, a building he’d spent years actively avoiding. He discovered the sciences wing, with textbooks, dictionaries of medical terminology, and a copy of Grey’s Anatomy. Gustav continued teaching him every other day. One day to listen, one day to think, was how the old Russian put it. First you learn, then you absorb.
At night, Danny thought about what he’d learned, and wondered how long before he could change Brackard’s Point into a place he could tolerate.
789
Bedrik stayed busy, too. His army continued to grow with each trip to Gethsemane. Edward T. Rammel’s shade dwelled inside Tony Amiratti Junior. Rammel was grateful for the second life, the chance to experience everything all over again—and to experience it as someone else. Since the senior Amiratti was in Atlantic City these days at the request of Marano, Tony controlled much of his father’s local empire. Thus, Bedrik, who commanded Rammel’s shade, was now in charge of the town’s organized crime. It was the first step towards dominion.
Gethsemane’s night watchman, Sam Oberman, had been his second recruit, taken over by the shade of a drunk driver named Thomas Church. With Oberman under his control, Bedrik could work in the cemetery without concern of getting caught. With each shade he freed from the grave, another of the town’s most influential citizens became his pawn. Attorneys, bank managers, town officials, the fire chief, ministers, even the zoning officer; they were all puppets on his strings, all doing his bidding. Slowly, Michael Bedrik possessed Brackard’s Point.
Of course, not all of the transitions were smooth. There were flaws in any plan. Bumps in the road. The unexpected discovery of Martin’s body had been the first.
Erik Riley was the second.
789
Erik Riley had been a drug addict in life. Cocaine was his drug of choice, shooting up his method of delivery. He’d died of an overdose the night of his senior prom. He’d raged from beyond the grave about how unfair it had all been—until Bedrik summoned his shade.
“You’ve disappointed me,” Bedrik whispered, squatting next to the body. “What should I do with you now?”
Erik looked up at his master through Chief Winters’ eyes, and knew fear for the first time since his death.
Bedrik held his hands out; his palms hovered inches from the big man’s heaving chest. Inside, he felt Erik’s shade fighting to hold on.
“What to do,” Bedrik wondered aloud. “What to do with you?”
Once inside the body of Chief Winters, Erik’s shade had reverted to his old habits. Now he lay here on the floor of Chief Winters’ home, a needle jutting from his arm, his skin the color of death. Having the chief of police die of a drug overdose wasn’t part of Bedrik’s new power scheme. A drug scandal would increase public scrutiny. He’d planned on infiltrating the media eventually, but not this soon. And not before news of Chief Winters’ death would be plastered all over the papers and broadcasts, attracting unwanted attention to Brackard’s Point.
But neither could he allow Erik’s shade to continue inhabiting the policeman’s body. Erik had proven himself unreliable; unable to avoid the sins of his past life.
Bedrik stood up. His knees popped, loud in the silence. He winked at Winters.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Erik whimpered through Winters’ mouth.
Bedrik went into the kitchen and searched through the cupboards until he found a canister of salt. Then he returned to the living room and poured the salt out in a circle around the policeman’s body.
“Erik Riley,” he said, “I have bound you to me, and commanded you to do my bidding. It is through my power that your shade walks the earth again. Now, I command you to return to nothingness. I cast you out of this form, cast you out of this existence, and cast you out of this plane. Get thee behind me and do not return. Your shade shall fade with the dawn.”
The circle of salt began to glow.
Chief Winters jerked upright, muscles still twitching from the overdose. Erik Riley’s shade screamed inside him. Winters stumbled to his feet inside the circle. The needle fell from his arm. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. His heart, already weakened by his lifestyle and the excesses of the shade inhabiting him, ruptured. At the same time, his consciousness briefly returned. His eyes widened in recognition.
“Mr. Bedrik? What the hell?”
Then he toppled over, dead.
Bedrik didn’t move. It wasn’t over.
Erik Riley’s spirit screamed again. Darkness oozed from the Chief’s pores, mouth, and nostrils, and dripped from the corners of his eyes. It reformed briefly into a human shape. Then Bedrik stepped forward, took a deep breath, and blew. The shade, torn completely away from
Winters’ body, dissipated. Bedrik continued blowing. Inside the living room, the wind howled. The salt drifted into the air, swirling like snow. The scattered globules of shadow attached themselves to the minute grains and drifted through the open door, vanishing into the night.
Finally, Bedrik relaxed. The winds died down. Silence returned. In the hallway, the clock struck twelve.
The next morning, when he didn’t show up for work and calls to his home went unanswered, Chief Winters would be found dead of a massive coronary. There would be no signs of a disturbance, nothing that would lead investigators to assume foul play had been involved. No trace of Michael Bedrik’s presence would be found. Not even a grain of salt.
“Well,” Bedrik muttered, stepping outside. “I suppose I’ll need more policemen.”
He’d consolidated his power, begun exerting his influence over the town, and taken care of the Erik Riley problem. Now it was time to learn the identity of the person who’d discovered Martin’s body and find out how much they knew.
SIX
School was finished for the day, but Danny remained behind, reading a book in the school library; Magick in Theory and Practice by Aleister Crowley. Danny had bought it at the used bookstore on Harbor Street. Gustav had scoffed, but then insisted that he read it anyway. “Crowley was insane,” the Russian said, “but is important to gain knowledge even from the crazy, yes?”
“Danny?”
Mr. Bedrik’s voice surprised him. Danny jumped. He’d been so engrossed in the book that he hadn’t realized the man was there.
“Yeah?”
Mr. Bedrik was a hard-ass. Danny didn’t like him; had often skipped his class the year before. But now, the teacher was looking at him with a different expression. Not contempt or disapproval, but one of impressed surprise.
“I didn’t expect to see you here.” The teacher sat down next to him in one of the empty chairs. “After school detention?”
“No,” Danny mumbled. “Just reading.”
“Crowley.” Mr. Bedrik nodded toward the bookshelves. “The Master Therion. I can’t imagine you found that in here.”
Danny shook his head, and then closed the book.
“I have to admit, Danny. I’m impressed. That’s awfully advanced reading for a boy your age, especially given your academic past. Is this some sort of heavy metal thing? What’s that new band—Slayer, I believe? Do they use him in one of their songs?”
Danny shrugged. “No. I just thought it was interesting.”
“Indeed?” Bedrik smiled. “And you like it?”
“So far.”
“You should try Aceldama, his first published collection of poems. That was always my personal favorite.”
Danny’s eyes widened. “You read this stuff?”
Mr. Bedrik smiled. “Don’t sound so surprised, Danny. A thirst for knowledge is a good thing. Crowley himself said that ‘the solution is to develop consciousness so that we no longer think as a child or a school boy does’ and are ‘capable of comprehending incommensurables as pertinent to our own formula.’ So yes, I’ve read him. I read everything, all subjects. I have a wide variety of interests.”
“You…do you…practice it?”
“No. I just like to stay informed. You’re never too old to learn more.”
“You sound like Gustav,” Danny said. A second later, he realized the slip and shut his mouth.
“You know Gustav?” Mr. Bedrik sounded surprised. “The old bum who hangs around downtown?”
“Yeah,” Danny said. “A little. I mean, I’ve seen him around town. We’re not friends or anything. You know him, too?”
“Oh yes. I am aware of him. And you should be careful around him. He’s no good.”
“He’s okay,” Danny said. “I mean, he’s not a pervert or anything. His house is a dump, but he’s nice. No job, but he’s smart.”
“How would you know? Didn’t you just say that you’re not friendly with him?”
“Well…” Danny paused, trying to think of a way to cover. For some reason, Mr. Bedrik’s interest in Gustav made him uncomfortable. “We talk about books sometimes. That’s all.”
“Do you discuss Crowley with him?”
“N-no.”
“Danny, lying does not become you.”
“Yes. Sometimes I talk to him. Happy? But so what?”
“No reason.” Mr. Bedrik stood up. “I have things to attend to. You really should go home, Danny. School is done for the day. It’s nice outside. Do you really want to spend the evening reading books?”
“I thought Crowley said knowledge was a good thing?”
Mr. Bedrik’s smile faded. “He also said ‘A little knowledge is a dangerous thing; more than a little is certain disaster.’ Keep that in mind in regards to your friend Gustav.”
“You think he’s dangerous?”
“I think you know more about him than you’re pretending. And yet, I think you don’t know enough.”
“What do you mean? Is he like a Russian spy or something?”
Mr. Bedrik laughed. “Hardly. But there are a lot of things about him that simply aren’t as they seem. His name, for instance.”
“What’s wrong with his name?”
“It’s not Gustav.”
He walked out of the library. The doors swung shut behind him. Danny frowned. The teacher had acted…different. No hollering. No angry incriminations. No disdain. It was like he’d actually been interested in what Danny was doing.
Weird. His comments about Gustav were even weirder—but understandable. After all, most of the adults in Brackard’s Point thought the old man was a simple vagrant, living in that ramshackle house. They didn’t know his secret. Still, Mr. Bedrik had seemed to know something.
Danny felt bad for being suspicious. Of course Mr. Bedrik was acting weird. His brother had recently been killed. Danny shuddered, remembering how the crabs had eaten the body. Mr. Bedrik was probably just impressed that Danny was reading. He’d tried talking to him—and Danny had responded with mistrust. He glanced out into the hallway, but the teacher was gone.
For a moment, he considered running after him and warning Mr. Bedrik about what Matt, Jeremy, Ronnie and Chuck had planned for him, but in the end, loyalty to his friends won out. He wasn’t a rat. Fuck that noise.
One month ago, Mr. Bedrik had caught Jeremy, Ronnie, and Matt kicking the shit out of Terry Hampton after Terry refused to let Jeremy copy his test answers. Everyone else had the smarts to let Jeremy do whatever he wanted, but not Terry. He was new, and didn’t know about Jeremy’s low tolerance of people who didn’t share.
The three boys had caught up with Terry behind the shop class. Chuck and Danny weren’t with them at the time. If they had been, Matt probably wouldn’t have been involved.
Matt had moved to Brackard’s Point when they were in fourth grade, after bonds had already formed between Danny, Jeremy, Ronnie, and Chuck. Sometimes, Matt still acted like the new kid, eager to please his friends and gain their acceptance.
Jeremy could be mean, and sometimes his cruelty was infectious, like when they fed the Alka-Seltzer to the birds. Ronnie always went along with whatever Jeremy suggested. Chuck and Matt were more reserved. They usually sided with Danny’s calmer influence.
But Danny and Chuck were playing the new Paperboy video game down at the pizza place on Congers Road that day, and Matt had joined in Ronnie and Jeremy’s madness. Hearing Terry’s cries, Mr. Bedrik caught them. All three got detention. It didn’t matter to Jeremy or Ronnie, but Matt’s old man hit the roof. He’d given Matt the worst beating of his life. Since then, Matt had been plotting to get even with the teacher.
Danny returned to his book, and tried to forget about everything else. His lips moved as he read. “Let then the Adept extend his Will beyond the Circle…”
Extend his will. He felt like he was ready, even though Gustav said he wasn’t. But he’d been studying hard, and he was ready to try.
Things were going to be different at home.
After a few more minutes, the words started to blur together. The school librarian cleared her throat and then looked meaningfully at the clock. Danny closed the book and left, heading for Gustav’s house.
789
Gustav handed him a package wrapped in tacky gold foil and tied with a silver bow.
“What is it?”
Gustav sat down in his dusty recliner and waved his hand. “It’s a present, yes? You do good in school.”
“A present?”
“Yes, boy, a present. Wrapped in paper. Surprise inside. Present.”
Danny grinned, forgetting all about Mr. Bedrik. “Can I open it?”
“Da. Open it already.”
Danny tore away the paper and stared at the small, red velvet box. There were no markings or store insignias on it. He opened the box. There were three items inside. An old Zippo lighter, meticulously polished, with a weird design etched into the side; a half moon, sun, serpent, and an eye.
He looked up at Gustav. “What do they mean?”
“They are Colleges of the Magus. The Moon is for thaumaturgy, the Sun for alchemy. The Snake is for sorcery, the Hand for Necromancy, the Eye for Divination, and the Dagger for Hemomancy.”
Danny squinted. “But I don’t see a hand or a dagger.”
“No. You cannot see them yet. You are not ready.”
“Not ready? I’m learning, damn it. That was the deal—I’d go back to school and study. So how can you say I’m not ready?”
Gustav laughed. “You think I give you new rules, yes?”
“Yeah.”
“No. You give you the rules. I only teach you how to see them.”
Danny sighed. “I know you’re Russian, but I really wish you’d speak English.”
Gustav tapped his temple and then his chest. “You know here and here when you are ready. Some things you are not ready to learn. Some things are too dangerous. Some your mind is not strong enough to see yet.”
“Like necromancy? That’s for making zombies, right? Voodoo.”
Shades Page 5