The Sin of Moloch
Patterns of Magic Book 2
Andrew T Gordinier
Thank you for purchasing this book.
When I wrote my first book (Inherited Magic), I had no real idea of what to expect in terms of sales or responses from readers. I was pleasantly surprised by both. To see reviews and have people point out the highs and lows of your work is an interesting experience. One that I had initially dreaded, but quickly looked forward to. I saw it all as constructive criticism and made every effort to use it as a way to improve. I also took the positive input as motivation to work harder. To tell the story better.
I feel that I owe an apology to you for the second book taking so long. You have allowed me the gift of your time, let my voice into your world, and patiently waited for me to finish this story. I am grateful for the opportunity and humbled by your support.
I also want to thank Emily and Sally for their help.
Prologue
In his nightmare, John could hear and feel the pounding of his heart as he ran. Panic gripped his mind and forced aching muscles to work overtime. The stacks of crushed and ruined cars were a blur of rust and faded paint going past. This was it. They had finally come for him. John tried to dodge a corner, lost his footing and tumbled to the ground in a cloud of dust. There was laughter in the distance, echoing and rolling like thunder under the burning sky.
“Did you think you could kill a god?!” John knew the voice that echoed off countless dead cars. “You’ll burn when I catch you. Burn for years!”
Ignoring the bitter dust that choked him, John scurried into a tiny gap between cars. He fought down his fears that the vehicles would collapse on. Sharp and rusty edges bit and tor as John crawled through the small space. He emerged on the far side covered in grease and blood. Rain started to fall from the rolling flames that covered the sky. Ignoring how the rain stung his eyes and fresh cuts, John frantically searched for a weapon. He seized a protruding piece of rusted rebar and violently wrenched it free. With his feeble club in hand, he started to run again. Exhausted and weary, John found the center of his labyrinth. An open circular space surrounded by stacks of shattered cars. They both stood there waiting for him. He faced them as bravely as he could.
Veronica looked radiant and perfect in her bone-white dress. Her eyes were gone, replaced by deep unblinking pools of blood. Veronica’s broadsword blazed and flickered, reflecting the flames in the sky. For a dead woman, she looked good. The man standing next to her was another matter. His body was blackened and charred under dancing flames. There was almost no way to see the details of the man's face. It didn’t matter, John knew who he was, and he remembered all too well killing him. He remembered killing them both very well.
Without pretext, Veronica dashed at him with her sword flashing through the air. John narrowly escaped. He clumsily blocked her follow up attack with the piece of rebar. The ring of steel on steel rang clearly and hung in the air. John knew he couldn’t win against them. He turned to run and came face to face with the burning man. Heat washed over John as the man grabbed his throat with an iron grip. He struggled, and the man laughed at him, forcing John to his knees. Veronica’s laughter joined in as John felt something sharp being pressed slowly into his back. John struggled against the pain of being impaled while he struggled to breathe.
He wondered why he kept struggling and didn’t give up.
John woke up, gasping for air and covered in sweat.
Chapter 1
“So John, why don’t we talk about why you’re here. On the phone, you said you were having nightmares?” Dr. Gaston smiled gently at him. He had expected her to take notes, but she sat waiting quietly with her chin resting on her hand. Still and smiling as a statue.
“I have some questions first.”
“Of course.” Dr. Gaston smiled, and it illuminated her face.
“What are the legal bounds of therapy?”
“If you tell me you intended to hurt yourself or someone else, or harm a minor, I am obligated to report it.”
“This includes the past?”
“Yes. John.” Her voice was even, but John saw questions in her eyes.
“I’ve never been in therapy before. I just wanted to know.” How was he going to tell her anything at all?
“John, just start at the beginning.” Dr. Gaston sipped her coffee, leaving a pale stain of lipstick on the edge of the cup.
“I went through a tough time about a year and a half ago. The girl I was living with left me suddenly for another man, my dad died, and I got fired from my job.” John took a deep breath to stop himself from talking about the primer and how finding it brought him into a dying world of magic and greedy mages. “I got a new job, my boss got murdered, and someone tried to kill me. I also meet Radha, my current girlfriend.”
“She suggested you get help?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Like I said, I have nightmares. Radha also says that I’ve been paranoid and acting jumpy.”
“Do you think she’s right?”
“I don’t know, I guess so. I worry about things and keeping Radha safe.” John thought about the rage and anger in Veronica’s eyes as she died and the threats Peter yelled while the FBI dragged him away.
“Is she in danger?”
“No. I don’t think so.” Was that a convincing lie?
“Are you?”
“I don’t think so, but I worry.” There were other greedy mages out there, people that wanted revenge, and lots of people that wouldn’t like what he was doing. They were both still in danger.
Dr. Gaston nestled her narrow frame deeper into the padding of the chair she sat in before asking, “What are your dreams about?”
“People trying to hurt Radha or me, and I can’t stop them, I’m powerless against them.”
“Sometimes, our traumas are rooted in our sense of helplessness.”
“I am a long way from helpless.” John smiled to himself, there were very few mages that had access to the knowledge that he had.
“I’m not suggesting you are. It’s about how you feel and how you felt. Do you feel helpless like you’ve lost control of your life?”
“I guess.” John paused and considered the Conclave, being forced into a duel to the death, the feeling that everyone else had been pulling strings. John wondered if he had ever had control of his life.
Chapter 2
“How was therapy?” Radha asked while the waiter poured her water.
“Uncomfortable.” John paused and waited for the waiter to leave before continuing. “I have to be careful about what I say, not just about magic, but the duel and the fire too.”
“I know, but do you think she can help you with your nightmares?” Radha reached across the table and gently touched his hand.
“I guess so.” John held her hand and examined the glowing patterns of it. He saw the chemical signals transmitted in wisps of color that were absorbed, sending shivers up and down bright networks of nerves. He could see the complexity of her pattern in the most beautiful detail. John looked Radha in the eye and saw the light there, not just the figurative fire in her eyes, but the actual light of her life. He saw the smooth curves and turns of her very existence. Shades of red, gold, yellow, blue, and white all laced together in complicated webs that shifted and moved even when she sat still. Colored threads of distant influences flitted in and out of her pattern, making minor harmless changes, even as her pattern changed the nature of those threads. He watched as her gentle influence on the world rippled outwards.
“John.” He could see that she was going to blush before she did. “You’re staring again.”
“Sorry, I get lost in you some times.”
R
adha smiled and blushed a bit further.
“Anyways, I guess she can help me with my nightmares. She says that they’re rooted in a sense of helplessness, or loss of control.”
“John, I really think you’ll be happy you did this.”
“I think it’ll work out as long as I’m careful about what I say.” The waiter returned, and they ordered their food.
“How’s the internship at the temp agency going?” John asked.
“So far, everyone seems nice, it’s been busy, so I’m getting a crash course. Despite that, it’s kind’a boring.”
“Boring is good.”
“Compared to the exciting life of a wizard?” Radha teased.
“Mage.” John scowled.
“What's the difference?”
“Wizards use incantations, rituals, and have poor fashion sense. Mages are cooler.”
“Harry Potter’s cool.”
“Harry Potter?”
“Yeah, Harry Potter. He’s cool, glasses and all.”
“He wouldn’t last a minute in the real world.” Radha laughed at John loudly.
“What?” John had expected this round of teasing to go as usual, where Radha ended it by calling him ‘Johnny Potter’ for a while.
“In the ‘real world,’ do you even listen to yourself?”
“Umm….”
“You use magic every day, you shouldn’t be able to do that in the ‘real world.’”
“It’s been a while since I thought of a world without magic.”
“You should. Read a historical biography or two, think of it like reading fantasy books.” Radha said through a gentle smile. “How’s school?”
“Killing me slowly.” John paused while the waiter set their food down. He had ordered pad kraw paw, and the aroma of the basil and peppers made his mouth water. “Either the classes are too easy or too hard, there’s no in-between. UIC is nothing like Truman.”
“And your pet project?” Radha’s voice had a tone to it that John knew had nothing to do with his project.
“It’s not running yet, but it’s starting to take shape.” John wondered why Radha had seemed so uncomfortable with his experimental program.
“Is that woman still working on it for you?”
“Deanna? I couldn’t do this without her. She knows more than I do about programming, I’m learning fast, but I can only do so much.”
“John, did you ever stop to think you were doing too much too fast?” Radha skillfully picked up grilled chicken and some rice with chopsticks.
“How so?” John’s food resisted his clumsy efforts with chopsticks, so he switched to a fork.
“It wasn’t that long ago that you didn’t know anything. You had no idea the dangers you were getting into, no idea even on what you had done to yourself. Do you really think it’s a good idea to go looking for the raw mechanics of magic? Looking for more power?” Radha’s eyes looked watery, and her voice cracked on the last words.
“I’m not looking for more power. I just want answers, I want to know why we can only do some things and not others. If we can do something different, something good, like heal people and cure illnesses, then I’m going to share what I find.”
“I’m worried, John. I just don’t see magic bringing anything good, and I don’t think that more magic will make that happen.” Radha looked past John, out past the other customers, past the traffic on Broadway that sped past.
John paused and looked at Radha, who had stopped staring at the middle distance and made eye contact with him. He would tell her about what Deanna had found later. He wasn’t going to lie, he wasn’t even going to try to, he just wasn’t going to talk about it. “I don’t know if more will make it better or worse, but I can’t give up feeling that there is more to know, something important. I know you worry, but I’m keeping this low key, and there are a total of three people on the planet that have a clue what I’m working on.”
“I do worry though, I worry a lot, John.” Radha reached across the table and took his free hand. John smiled and couldn’t help but be moved by the depth of her concern for him. They finished dinner, and the subject never came up again, in part because John focused on Radha the rest of the night, not to escape or distract her but to distract himself. They went to a movie, and even though it was John’s turn to pick, he chose one that Radha wanted to see, and sat quietly next to her, just enjoying her laughter and warm presence.
Afterward, they took a cab to her place, and John walked her to her door.
“You’ll be careful and call me as soon as you get back?”
“I will, I promise. Augie said there was going to be a ‘bash’ afterward, so I’ll try to send you a text from there, at least.” John kissed her gently on the lips but did not turn to leave.
“I love you.” Radha smiled and kissed him more forcibly and passionately.
“I love you, too.”
John watched Radha walk into her building, turning once more to smile at him before she closed the door. It struck John that he had never known anyone like her before, that he could search the whole of humanity and never find her equal. John felt lucky to know her, fortunate that she was his friend, and to be dating her was nothing short of miraculous. John allowed these thoughts and feelings to warm him against the Chicago winter as he turned his feet towards home and started walking.
There are day to day realities about winter that plague any city; not every street gets plowed, and not every sidewalk gets shoveled. It is an unspoken fact that Chicago’s streets get plowed first in the areas with the most political clout, while the sidewalks are ignored. Not every business or building manager has the sidewalks in front of their building shoveled and salted for the convenience of pedestrians, while others are meticulous. This creates a treacherous patchwork of ice and dry pavement that is dangerous to ignore. What little of John’s mind that was not lost in reveries of Radha, was focused on keeping his footing while he walked. Another reality of city life is that it is dangerous to not pay attention to your surroundings. John had almost made it home when he was suddenly thrown face down in the snow.
“Where’s your cellphone?! Where’s your wallet?!” The voice had a strange sing-song to it. John felt hands roughly searching his pockets.
“You want to run away now.” John said as he tried to stand, but he was pushed back into the snow.
“Screw you! Ya honkey bitch!” Shouted a second voice. “Give us your stuff!”
“This is your last chance. Run now.” John kept his voice calm and even.
John was hauled to his feet by one of his assailants and saw that there were actually three of them standing around him. The two in front of him were not more than teenagers, one with short braids that stood up almost comically, the other with closely cropped hair and eyes that blazed with anger.
“What you gonna do? Call for the cops? Or, are you legit and tough enough for all of us?” Asked the one with braids and a slow sing-song voice.
John didn’t say anything. He launched himself straight up, and landed out of sight on a streetlamp not far away. The would-be muggers stood there, staring at each other, shocked and bewildered. John could see a small pistol in the hands of the man who had been standing behind him. He would let them go, but he couldn’t let them wander off with a gun.
John didn’t have to struggle to use magic like other mages, not since finding the hidden compartment and message in his Primer. Things like melting the ice around them while keeping his balance on the streetlight weren’t a challenge for him. His assailants noticed the ice melting and were starting to get the idea that they should run away, but it was too late. John pulled the water up around their feet till it was up to their shins and froze it again, trapping them. John inwardly wished he could have made the water form hands and arms that would have held them down, but that was time and effort wasted where they might getaway. John stepped off the streetlight and rocketed towards the one with the gun, quickly snatching it away before the startled mugger coul
d think to use it.
“I warned you.” John made a show of unloading the gun, putting the bullets in his pocket. He gently tossed the firearm between the three of them, where he held it suspended in mid-air with a simple pattern. They stood slack-jawed and unable to do more than gasp for air and explanation. John examined the pattern of the gun and decided to melt it. In heartbeats it was glowing red hot and giving off a foul stink as the oil and cheap plastic grips burned away, then it was was white-hot and losing its shape.
“I warned you. I told you to run, but no, you had to play tough and think you were going to get away with it. Not today.” John tried not to laugh. “Not while my lord Satan needs fresh souls for his army of the undead!” John lifted his hands dramatically and used a well-practiced pattern to wreath them in harmless flames.
“Holy shit!” Screamed the assailant that had been armed, and all three struggled frantically to escape the ice that entombed their feet.
With a dramatic flair, John turned on the mugger with the braids. The mugger screamed, and John allowed the ice holding them to melt. All three of them fell into the water surrounding them. They splashed desperately to get away from him and his clearly demonic powers. John watched them run in terror for a few moments before he quickly hid away in nearby shadows. He doubted that anyone but his three muggers saw the little display, but no reason to push his luck. He teleported to his apartment and tried not to disturb his neighbors with a loud outburst of laughter he could no longer contain. There were times when it was good to be a mage.
Chapter 3
John made an effort to sleep late the next day. When he woke up, he ate a large healthy breakfast, forcing himself to eat slowly, and afterward eating a couple of extra slices of raisin bread. He checked his messages and sent a few emails to classmates to answer questions and ask for help. He also emailed Deanna and told her that he would be out of touch for a few days, he would check in when he got back. With his small chores complete, John showered and dressed in rugged shorts, a lite shirt, and hiking boots. He filled a water bladder and slung it over his shoulder, fixing the sip tube near his collar. Putting on his wide brim hat, John mused about how unprepared his clothes were for winter weather. He checked the edge of his boot knife to make sure it was sharp and clean, slipped into its sheath at his ankle, and clipped a heavy multi-tool to his belt. Something had slipped his mind, so John lingered a few moments before realizing he’d forgotten his watch. He was as ready as he could be, he teleported to a remote spot in the Australian outback.
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