by Dean Lorey
“Stop staring and close the portal, you fools!” Director Drake shrieked.
Recovering from their initial shock, the Nethermancers swung into action and began to try to collapse the portal in on itself. There were fifteen of them in all, both men and women, but their combined efforts seemed to have no more effect on the portal than Tabitha’s solo attempt.
“Keep trying!” Drake yelled. “Barakkas is getting closer to the portal!”
Purple firelight arced from Nethermancer to Nethermancer as they vainly struggled to slam shut the doorway. Tabitha joined them, her eyes bright with determination, but soon she realized that even the force of sixteen fully trained adult Nethermancers was no match for the power of the small, slight thirteen-year-old who stood before them in something like a trance.
“What do you want to talk about?” Charlie asked as Barakkas continued his slow, steady walk.
“Your future,” Barakkas replied with a smile that revealed many sharp teeth. “I have wonderful things planned for us after I cross through. I need a strong and resourceful apprentice, someone powerful and brave. Someone like you. Together, we will wreak havoc upon those who have tormented us.”
As Barakkas spoke, Rex sidled up to Charlie and whispered in his ear. “Kid, I know that, deep down, you can hear what I’m saying. You’re talkin’ to Barakkas the Rager. I know he seems calm and reasonable now, but, trust me, his temper is legendary and you never know what’ll set it off. He’ll kill you soon as look at you, and when he steps through, death’s gonna follow him, you understand? You gotta shut the portal down, son. You’re the only one who can do it.”
And, somewhere deep in the recesses of Charlie’s mind, he did hear Rex. It seemed like Rex wanted him to do something, but Charlie wasn’t sure what exactly. Something about a bad temper…and a portal…
“Don’t listen to him, Charlie,” Barakkas said, now only a hundred yards from the open gateway. “He’s jealous. He knows how much more powerful you are than he is, and he covets that power. He doesn’t want us together because he knows that he will become obsolete. He is a false friend.”
“‘A false friend…,’” Charlie repeated.
“You know that’s not true,” Rex said. “I told you before I’d protect you no matter what, and now I’m telling you again. You have my word. Shut the portal, kid. Shut it now.”
Several of the Nethermancers collapsed from exhaustion; the strain of trying to close what the boy had opened was simply too much.
“Almost there,” Barakkas said soothingly, now only several yards from the portal. “Be brave and strong. Hold it open just a moment more.”
Barakkas leaned down, preparing to squeeze his gigantic bulk through the gateway. He led with his right arm, his talon claws clenched into a fist. It was the size of a car, that fist. Around his wrist, Charlie could see an enormous metal bracer, glittering blackly. There were intricately carved faces on it—one of which he recognized as the face of Barakkas.
“I just want you to know that none of this is your fault,” Rex said as the giant fist pushed out of the portal, dwarfing them. The red patterns that issued from the carved images on the bracer strobed past Charlie’s face. “You’re a good kid, Charlie. Whatever happens, I just want you to know that.”
Just then, Charlie turned to him. “Rex?” he said, as if seeing him for the first time. “What did you want me to do again?”
“Close the portal, kid,” Rex said with a gentle smile.
“Okay,” Charlie replied, and, just like that, the portal slammed shut with a thunderous crack, severing Barakkas’s right forearm. It thudded to the ground with the force of a wrecking ball, fingers spasming wildly, the enormous bracer throwing dark red light across the chamber in hectic splashes. From somewhere far away, echoing maddeningly across dimensions, Charlie could hear Barakkas scream.
Finally, even that grew silent.
Rex hugged Charlie as the Nethermancers struggled to their feet, glaring at Charlie as if he might, at any moment, attack like a rabid dog. “I didn’t mean to do it,” he said, seeing the anger and fear on their faces. “It just happened.”
“It’s okay, kid,” Rex said, comforting him. “Everything is fine now.”
“Everything is most certainly not fine,” Director Drake shouted, finding his voice. “It is the very opposite of fine. This child nearly portaled a Named into the very heart of the Nightmare Division. This is exactly what I was afraid of! He could have destroyed us all!”
“You asked him to open a portal,” Tabitha said as Rex pulled her to her feet. “I told you he wasn’t ready.”
“Oh, so it’s all my fault?” Drake sneered. He turned to the Nethermancers. “Take the boy to the Reduction Room immediately. I want him Reduced to the point where he’s incapable of portaling so much as a Class-1 Sprite. I want him made as stupid as a stick!”
“Rex?” Charlie said with rising panic.
“No worries, kid,” Rex said, uncoiling his lasso. With a startling crack, it arrowed across the chamber to where it snaked tightly around the Director’s neck.
“What are you doing?” Pinch shrieked, horrified.
“I won’t let the kid be Reduced. I gave him my word.”
“Release me,” Drake gasped, his face turning a bright shade of red, “or I will have you Reduced, as well.”
“Good luck on that.”
“Let him go,” Pinch pleaded. “This will only lead to disaster.”
“Better make up your mind quick, Drake,” Rex said. “Your face is starting to look like a plum.”
Just then, from somewhere at the back of the chamber, a female voice chimed in. “Up to your old tricks, eh, Rex?”
Charlie turned and saw a tall, regal woman standing there. She had bright blue eyes that shone brilliantly and unexpectedly against the deep, dark chocolate of her skin. Her dress was loose and flowing and was woven from colorful fabrics—buttery yellow, the orange of the sun at dusk mixed with warm, fiery reds. It had a tropical, Jamaican feel that seemed completely out of place in the sterility of the Nightmare Division.
“How’s it going, Headmaster?” Rex said.
“Better for me than you, from the looks of it,” she replied. “Just can’t stay out of trouble, can you?”
“It’s a serious failing of mine. I keep hoping I’ll outgrow it.”
“I won’t hold my breath, if you don’t mind,” she said with a smile. “And, speaking of holding your breath, you better let the Director go before he suffocates.”
“But—”
“Don’t worry about the boy,” she interrupted with a wave. “We’ll see our way through this.”
Rex considered. Then, with a practiced flip of the wrist, he uncoiled the lasso from around the Director’s neck. Drake greedily gulped air as the bruised color slowly drained from his face.
The tall woman glanced at the severed arm of Barakkas, then turned to Charlie. “Looks like someone’s done something he shouldn’t have,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “I’m Headmaster Brazenhope.”
“And I’m—”
“Charlie Benjamin. Yes, I know. I’ve had my eye on you for some time now.”
“Do you know,” Drake managed to say, finally catching his breath, “what this little creature has done?”
“Of course I do,” the Headmaster replied. “Why else would I be here? To visit with you?” She grimaced distastefully. “As soon as I felt the disturbance in the Nether, I portaled over immediately.”
“He wants to have the boy Reduced, Headmaster,” Tabitha said.
“Oh, of that I have no doubt. He is, after all, a bureaucrat—a champion of the status quo, a defender of the average and the mundane. He despises those who possess the Gift because he does not possess it himself. This is, unfortunately, an all-too-common attitude among his ilk.”
“Spare me your grade-school psychology, Headmistress,” Drake said.
“Head master, if you please,” she shot back. “It is a title, just like Doctor
.”
“A little touchy today, aren’t we?”
“This coming from the man who can’t stand being called ‘sir’ because it reminds him of his days waiting tables at Red Lobster?”
“That is enough!” Drake thundered, blushing slightly. “The boy will be Reduced because he is a grave threat.”
“Reliable as ever, Reginald,” the Headmaster said. “You never miss an opportunity to destroy what you don’t comprehend. I would sooner let you burn the Mona Lisa and raze the pyramids of Egypt than let you touch one molecule of this boy’s miraculous brain.”
“I have made my decision.”
“And I have made mine,” she replied. “The boy will come with me to the Nightmare Academy. There, he will be trained.”
“I forbid it,” Drake said, standing and walking toward her. “Don’t make this difficult, Brazenhope. I outrank you and you know it.” He turned to the assembled Nethermancers. “Take the boy to the Reduction Room immediately.”
The Nethermancers looked around warily, not sure how to respond. “Coogan,” the Headmaster said, turning to one of them—a tall man with fire engine red hair. “Would you obey the new Director…or your old Headmaster? The time has come to choose, I’m afraid.”
The Nethermancer looked between the irritated, pleading Director and the calm, poised Headmaster. “I’m sorry, Director,” he said finally. “I know I report to you…but I owe everything to the Headmaster.”
Coogan left the room.
“Susan? Grant? Ryder?” the Headmaster prompted, turning from Nethermancer to Nethermancer. One by one, without a word, they all left. Soon, only Tabitha remained.
“You know where I stand, Headmaster,” she said.
The Headmaster turned to Drake. “It seems you’re a general without an army, Reginald. Of course, this is the price you pay when you try to inspire fear in your followers instead of respect. Director Goodnight understood that.”
“Goodnight is dead.”
“That’s right,” the Headmaster said. “And so, one day, will you be. Nothing is permanent, Reginald—[ ]including your reign as Director. Eventually, you will be gone and this division will be restored to its former glory. I plan to be here to see it happen.” She fixed him with a withering stare. “The boy will come with me.”
Director Drake was furious. Two veins pulsed angrily in his forehead. “Take him,” he said finally, “but you alone will be responsible for the consequences.”
“I have never sought to place blame elsewhere.”
“You may come to regret that,” Drake said. “Though you may have a dubious claim to authority over a child of school age, fully trained Nethermancers and Banishers are clearly under my command. So, as of this moment, these two”—he gestured to Rex and Tabitha—“are removed from active duty.”
“What?” Tabitha said.
“That’s not fair,” Rex insisted. “None of this was our fault. Headmaster?”
“Don’t look to me for help,” she said. “I agree with the Director.”
“You can’t be serious!” Rex replied in dismay.
“Oh, I’m extremely serious. If you were not removed from active duty, how else would you be available to come to the Academy and teach?”
“Teach?” Rex cried out. “I’m a field operator. I don’t teach.”
“You do now,” the Headmaster said. “Both of you. You too, Pinch.”
“Me?” Pinch moaned. “What did I do?”
“Nothing,” the Headmaster snapped. “And that’s your problem.” With a casual wave of her hand, she opened a portal. Charlie was shocked to see how easily and quickly she did it—it was a sharp contrast to the time and effort Tabitha required. “Let’s go,” she said. “The Nightmare Academy awaits.”
Seconds later, after a brief stopover in the Nether, the odd group of five stepped through another portal and into a small cabin inside the Nightmare Academy. The walls and floor were built with ancient polished teak boards that gleamed dully in the light of the oil lamp that rested on a large weathered trunk. Next to the lamp was a glass of warm milk, within reaching distance of the hammock that was strung from wall to wall. The hammock was sewn from an old colorful fabric—mostly reds and ambers—and swayed gently in the tropical breeze that came in through a small round window. A hint of moonlight sneaked through as well.
“This is your room, Mr. Benjamin,” the Headmaster said to Charlie. “You will sleep here tonight. Tomorrow, we will begin your training. The rest of you will come with me. We have much to discuss.”
She opened a door and ushered the three adults out.
“Headmaster?” Charlie said. “Will I…”
“Have a nightmare tonight?”
“Yes…”
She smiled warmly. “No. You’ve had a long day. Tonight is reserved for pleasant dreams and sweet sleep. Drink some milk and go to bed, Mr. Benjamin.”
Then she left.
Charlie looked through the small round window to try to get a sense of where the Nightmare Academy actually was, but the blackness outside was penetrated only by a startling spray of stars that glimmered brilliantly in the nighttime sky like cut glass. Within moments, the exhaustion of the day descended upon him like a heavy blanket. He took a gulp of milk, crawled into that soft, welcoming hammock, and felt something he had never truly felt before.
He felt like he belonged.
Soon Charlie fell fast asleep as the warm tropical breeze gently rocked him. From somewhere, he could hear the sound of waves.
Elsewhere in the Nightmare Academy, the adults sat in the Headmaster’s study. It was smoky and dim, with flights of stairs and catwalks that led to numerous hazy platforms and landings above. It looked for all the world like the inside of a ship and it was as cluttered and messy as the Nightmare Division had been spare and orderly.
“The boy has made a powerful enemy,” the Headmaster said, sipping from a crystal glass filled with a red liquid so dark, it appeared almost black. “Barakkas will not soon forget the one who cost him his hand.”
“Serves him right,” Rex muttered.
“True,” the Headmaster agreed. “But he will hunt the boy to extract his revenge.”
“He can’t cross over, though,” Tabitha insisted. “Only you and Charlie are strong enough to open a portal into the Inner Circle, and you certainly won’t do it.”
“I won’t,” the Headmaster replied, “but the boy…he’s unpredictable.”
“You can say that again,” Pinch muttered.
“You’ve something to add, Pinch?” the Headmaster said, turning to him. “Speak up.”
Pinch mustered his courage. “It was a mistake. The child should have been Reduced. For all our sakes.”
“I’m surprised that you, of all people, would advocate that.”
“I’m simply being practical. You saw what he’s capable of! By not Reducing him, we’ve placed everyone in danger. For all we know, he could be opening another portal to Barakkas’s palace even as we speak.”
“Not likely,” the Headmaster said. “His milk was mixed with an elixir of Sweet Sleep. There will be no nightmares tonight.”
“You actually wasted elixir on him?” Pinch asked incredulously. “It would have been cheaper to let the boy drink gold!”
“After all he’s been through, he deserves at least one night of peace,” she replied. Pinch snorted and turned away, dissatisfied. “With proper training,” the Headmaster continued, “I believe he can learn to control his portaling. With some precaution and some luck, we will keep Barakkas on his side of the Nether, away from young Mr. Benjamin—but Barakkas is not the only threat. There is another, closer one.”
“You talkin’ about Verminion?” Rex asked.
The Headmaster nodded. “When that filthy Named crossed over to Earth, he promptly vanished from sight. We know that for the past twenty years he has been assembling an army of Nethercreatures, drawing them to him as they portal through, but we don’t know where. It is possible that he could
send assassins after the boy…or that he himself could come.”
“That’s only if he knows about Charlie,” Rex said.
“Oh, he knows. He and all the Named would have felt a breach so deep into the Inner Circle. Even I felt it.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean Verminion is gonna go after the kid who maimed Barakkas,” Rex insisted. “The only thing these big boys care about is themselves.”
“It is true that Barakkas and Verminion are both Named and, as such, have no particular love for each other,” the Headmaster agreed. “But Verminion would know that anyone with the power to so seriously hurt Barakkas could turn that power against him, as well. The simple truth is this: Barakkas can’t yet get to Charlie, but Verminion can, and he will use everything at his disposal to destroy the child.”
The Headmaster took another sip from her goblet, which had become dewy with condensation. “There is, however, a silver lining,” she said finally. “To come for the boy, Verminion will have to expose himself. It may be the opportunity we’ve been looking for.”
“You mean to use Charlie as bait?” Rex said, rising angrily.
“No,” she countered. “I don’t mean to use him as bait. I mean he is bait, whether we like it or not. We must use it to our advantage.”
She gestured for Rex to sit. With some reluctance, he did.
“Well, all of this assumes that Verminion knows what Charlie did to Barakkas,” Tabitha said. “That he knows how strong Charlie is, how much of a threat he could be. The only way he would know that is if the Named have a way of communicating with one another. Do you think they do?”
“I think they did,” the Headmaster said grimly.
The chamber of the High Council glowed redly in the light of the bracer that still encircled the wrist of the severed arm of Barakkas. Various workers in blue jumpsuits prepared to lift it onto a waiting gurney to spirit it off to a lab where it could be properly examined and cataloged.