by Sean Stone
“What do we do?” Gabe asked me. I could hear the pleading in his voice. He did not want to get involved in this fight. Neither did I. We should have just handed Charlotte over and gone home.
“Nothing,” I said. “We’ve done our part. We delivered Charlotte to Clara. Don’t get involved if you don’t have to.”
The sorcerers were fighting hard, but the warlocks were stronger and the battle had soon turned in their favour. The sorcerers that stood in front of us were falling like dominos as the lethal spells from the warlocks struck them down. The lightning from the storm was helping, it shot down intermittently striking the sorcerers where they stood. Sam watched on angrily as he barked orders at his sorcerers.
I heard a crash behind me and turned to see a new force of sorcerers marching out of the building, leading them with her face set in a menacing snarl was Clara Winters. She waved her hand ferociously in front of her and a silver lash of magic whipped out. It took one warlock by the throat and pulled his head clean off. The other warlocks saw that she had joined the fight and just like that they were vanishing back into the thin air they’d appeared from. As if the retreat had been called out the winged creatures took back to the skies and killed no more. Even the lightning held off, though the black clouds remained like a blanket above us. The road was suddenly still and quiet except for the heavy breathing of the exhausted sorcerers.
“Phew!” Sam cried out, falling back against the van in exasperation.
“Well done, Eddie. You survived that and got her here in one piece,” Clara said. She wasn’t looking at me. She was surveying the damage around us. The people she’d lost in battle. That was the nature of war. That was why I wanted Maidstone left out of all this.
“Yeah, well… I think maybe I should just go home now,” I said. I didn’t even care how cowardly I sounded.
“If that’s how you feel,” Clara said, not arguing. She turned to Sam. “We need—” She was cut off by another roll of thunder. The lightning that came simultaneously showed a new shape up in the sky that captured the attention of everyone still standing. It was like a big blob suspended in the air. Like another cloud only somehow more solid. We didn’t get to survey it for long. It jolted out of the sky, a great column of black smoke. It snaked down faster than a bullet and smashed into Clara’s chest. She cried in anguish as she was thrown through the air and crashed down on the concrete several metres away. The smoke carried on travelling down where it gathered in front of me, right in the middle of everyone. A couple of spells hit the smoke but once they realised they couldn’t hurt it the sorcerers all fled back from it. Only I stayed put, fixed to the spot, unable to move. I was sure that any second I was going to piss myself. I grabbed my wrist to try and stop myself from shaking. The smoke shifted into the form of a person and then solidified into the familiar figure of a man. There he was. The warlock leader stood before me, but it wasn’t me he was focused on this time. He stared straight ahead where Clara lie sprawled on the grass. Nobody dared move into his line of sight. Clara raised her head to look at who had attacked her, and her face whitened at once. I’d seen a lot of fear in the past hour or so, but this was something else. Clara Winters, the most powerful sorcerer I had ever met was petrified. She shook her head in disbelief.
“Nick,” she said in horror.
Nickolas Blackwood was alive and standing right there in the open for everyone to see. His lips stretched in a devilish smile. “Hello, Clara,” he said boyishly. There was a lot of history between these two, it was all there in that look they were sharing. Then he broke the gaze and turned to Charlotte. Her face crumpled as tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Please…” Charlotte begged uselessly.
Nick stretched his hand out in front of him. Charlotte slid across the road, her feet scraping on the tarmac as she tried to resist. As she neared him he opened his hand and her neck slid right into his fingers. “I cannot abide traitors,” Nick whispered. His fingers tightened. Her eyes bulged, and her veins protruded from her rapidly paling flesh. Her legs kicked out pathetically. Saliva frothed around her mouth and then her head fell limply to the side before Nick discarded her to the ground.
Then he shifted his attention to me. I wanted very much for him to return his focus to her, or Clara, or anyone else. Anyone but me.
“Eddie,” he said, narrowing his eyes at me. I moved my lips but found that no words would form. “How about that chat now?” He stepped forward, grabbed my shoulder and then everything around me vanished.
Chapter Fifteen
Green was the first thing I saw. Grass. Trees. Bushes. He’d teleported us to a park. The first time I teleported I remember feeling horribly sick after but this time I felt nothing at all. Well, maybe a little dizzy, but that was it. Either I’d gotten used to it or Nickolas was very skilled at teleporting. I hoped it was the former. As soon as we were settled he took his hand off me and took several steps away from me, gazing around at the park. There were a few kids playing football not too far away and an old man reading on a bench whilst eating a Twix, but other than that we had the park to ourselves. The mahoosive black cedar tree standing twenty feet away told me that we were in Cedar Park, the park which gave the town its name. The sky was clear again now, the grey clouds had vanished, and the sun shone brilliantly.
The fear I’d felt before had subsided now. I knew that Nickolas didn’t want me dead, he could easily have done it without bringing me to this park. He wanted to chat. But about what? And why? Even though he didn’t want to kill me, yet, I was still wary. His followers had just slaughtered dozens of sorcerers. His mere presence had been enough to terrify Clara, the stoniest bitch I knew. Only an idiot would be relaxed around this guy.
“What were those things?” I asked. I tried to force confidence into my tone but ended up sounded petulant.
Nickolas looked over his shoulder at me, one eyebrow was raised quizzically. “I assume you don’t mean my warlocks. They were gargoyles.”
“I didn’t even know they were real,” I admitted.
“I would imagine there is a lot you don’t know. When you live as long as I have you tend to pick things up. Gargoyles love death and I provide them with plenty of corpses to feed on.”
“Lovely,” I replied, looking away from his eerie gaze. He was like the Wicked Witch with her flying monkeys only far more terrifying. If only I could throw a bucket of water over him and be done with it. But then, I didn’t want to kill him. Not yet anyway. He’d done me no harm, in fact he’d saved me. I just assumed he was the bad guy because of all I’d heard about him. The least I could do was give him a chance to explain himself.
“The fear you felt was from their scream. The cry of a gargoyle induces terror in its victims,” he explained. I thought back to Jerry having a heart attack after one of the creatures screamed in his face.
“So, what do you want? What do you want with me?” I asked.
“Cedar Park,” he declared, splaying his arms out. “It was in this very park that Clara Winters trapped me in an enchanted sarcophagus and then dumped me on the bottom of the Atlantic.” He looked at me keenly to see how I reacted.
“From what I’ve heard about your history you probably deserved it,” I said evenly.
He tilted his head to one side and shrugged. “Perhaps. After all, it was under that very tree,” he pointed at the cedar tree. It was magical in some way, I could tell by how black the trunk was and the way the leaves glimmered like jewels. Running down the centre was a raised silvery line like a snail’s trail. “That I turned my adoptive mother to stone and cursed her to remain that way for eternity.”
I looked over but saw nothing except the tree. “I don’t see your mother over there.”
“No. When I died the curse was broken. She died shortly after.” He looked at me and saw my brow furrow at that. “Not by my hand,” he said before I could ask. He walked over to me and grabbed me once again. The park swirled into nothing and was replaced by grey.
I loo
ked around and saw tombs and headstones stretching out around us. We were in a cemetery and a pretty big one at that. We were standing in the middle of a small courtyard area. There were no graves in this square only a few stone benches. The concrete was cracked and smashed in places.
“Right here is where I learned that the Ambrotos Dagger could no longer kill me. I learned that when Clara drove it through my heart.” A flicker of annoyance passed over his otherwise blank face.
“Why?” I asked. He was doing a good job of portraying Clara as a bit of a bitch. Not that she needed any help in that regard.
“Revenge,” he said wistfully. “I murdered her father.”
I frowned at that. “Nickolas… Is it Nick or Nickolas, which do you prefer?” I asked.
“Call me Nick. Most people who don’t hate me tend to.”
“Okay, Nick. Well, I hate to contradict you and all, but Arthur Winters is still alive. He hired me for a job a couple of years ago.” That was when I’d nearly died in this dreadful town and consequently vowed never to return. Also, I was kind of banished.
“Yes, he is. And that is because of the other thing that happened in this cemetery. Right here in this very spot I performed my greatest achievement. Possibly the most complicated and elaborate spell in history. Not to be a braggart.” He rested his hand on what may have once been an altar in the centre of the courtyard. Now it was just a lump of crumbling stone. “I opened a doorway between the living and the dead. I raised the dead.” He smiled lightly as he reminisced. “Arthur was one of those I raised. As was the love of my life.”
“So, you can resurrect people,” I asked hopefully. He could bring back Ashley. Was that what all this was about? He’d bring her back in exchange for something that I could provide. But what could he possibly want from me that he couldn’t do for himself?
His smile vanished in an instant. “Not anymore. I lack the necessary ingredients. We have just one more destination.” He grabbed me again and once more we were whizzing through space. This time he brought me to a dilapidated ruin of a house. The rotten old floor was covered in dust, ancient wall paper hung from the crumbling walls. I looked up and saw that the ceiling above and the roof had been destroyed by something and I could see the brilliant blue sky.
“What did Clara do to you here?” I asked. I was picking up on the theme of the tour.
“Nothing.” He stepped into the centre of the room and knelt on the filthy floor. “This is the very spot where I died. Properly. A true death. My body was destroyed, my soul taken to the other side. But it turned out I really am impossible to kill. It took time, but my body rebuilt itself and when it was completed my soul was sucked back to this realm like water down a drain.” He looked down at the floor longingly and for a moment I wondered if he might’ve wanted to stay dead. “As long as my power remains I cannot be killed. To die properly was not pleasant.” He wrinkled his nose with distaste as though he was describing a bad cup of tea.
“I’ve been told I’m going to die.” I don’t know why I was telling him that. I guess he’d told me so much about himself it felt natural to tell him something back. He looked up at me curiously waiting for me to elaborate. “A seer said it. Or at least she says she’s a seer. I haven’t seen much proof.”
Nick stood up slowly and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Do you feel in your heart that she is correct, or do you feel that she is not?” he asked.
“Uhm…” I shook my head as I thought about it. I knew then that there was no doubt. I’d made a habit of exposing false psychics over the last few years and they were easy enough to detect. Annabelle wasn’t a charlatan. There was nothing for her to gain from telling me I was going to die. I mean if she was a nasty person it might bring her pleasure, but she wasn’t. Out of the two she was the nicer sister. “It’s true,” I admitted. Despite the fact that I’d just admitted I was going to die I felt oddly relieved, like accepting the prophecy had taken a weight off my shoulders.
“Mhmm,” Nick said to himself. “Seer’s prophecies aren’t always straight forward. I was once told by a seer that I would be defeated.”
“And what happened?”
“I gouged her eyes out,” he said, holding up his thumbs as evidence. I now had the image of him plunging his thumbs into seem poor woman’s eyes Game of Thrones style.
“I meant, was the prophecy true?”
“I know what you meant.” He smiled again. “Yes. I was defeated. For the grand total of thirteen days. And when I came back I did so with a vengeance like my enemies had never seen before. Blood dripped from the walls,” he said proudly. I grimaced and took a step back. I no longer wanted to be near this psychopath.
“Well… I’ve really enjoyed the magical mystery tour and all—”
“My point is, a seer’s prophecy is not always permanent. Much like death isn’t.”
“Except I’m not immortal,” I argued.
“True. And I lack the ingredients needed to make you fully immortal. But with all the power I have I’m sure I can keep you from dying,” he said.
I nodded. “For what price? What exactly do you want from me?” The tour had been great, but it was all just leading up to the pitch. The better the sales patter the higher the price at the end, and Nick’s patter was top rate.
“I want the same thing Clara wants. I want you. By my side.”
Now it was my turn to smile. “Surely the most powerful warlock in the world doesn’t need my help with anything?” I scoffed.
He placed his hand on my shoulder, not to teleport me but to comfort me. It didn’t work, if anything I just wanted to back away. Maybe if he hadn’t proceeded it with all that talk of blood on the walls I might’ve been more receptive to his charms. “You may feel insignificant when you stand next to me,” he said gently. “But that does not make it so. What I have done, what I have transformed myself into is unique. Nobody has ever done it before. I am the first. But that doesn’t make me that special. Anybody could have done this if they’d followed the same steps as I did. You however, have an ability that even I have not been able to replicate. You are the only one of your kind. Nobody can do what you have done. Not even me. We are two unique beings. Two rarities in a world filled with much of the same. On our own we are strong. Impressive. Remarkable. Together… Well, together we are unstoppable.” I didn’t like to admit it, but his motivational speech was winning me over. “Your ability coupled with my power could neutralise Clara and her alliance of muppets for good. We could stop that power-hungry girl’s deranged ambitions. She wants to put herself on a throne above every supernatural being there is. I want to tear her down and teach her a little humility. I want to show her that warlocks are not lesser beings compared to her. I know that you feel the same.”
I looked into his eyes as he delivered his speech. He spoke with such passion that it was impossible not to be moved. But I’d done my research and I knew who I was talking to. Slowly and as respectfully as was possible I brought up my hand and removed his from my shoulder. “Maybe I do feel the same, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to side with you. You’ve done a grand job of making Clara look like the villain in all this, but I’ve heard the stories about you. You are the biggest villain in history.”
Nick did not smile this time. He looked away at the nearby wall, his lips pursed, and his brow furrowed deeply. My words had not gone down well by the looks of things. “We are all given our roles in life and I have played mine to perfection. But nothing is black and white, Eddie. Yes, I may well have been the villain in Clara’s story, but have you considered that she might be the villain in other people’s stories? How many sorcerers have fled to Maidstone to escape her tyranny? How many people have lost their lives or their freedom simply because they didn’t want to follow Clara’s rules. Nobody appointed her to be their queen so why should they listen to her. Do not mistake her for the hero just because she’s standing opposite me,” he said heatedly. There was that famous Blackwood temper. He had a point though.
/> “There’s something else,” I said quietly as I looked at his face. There was something he wasn’t saying.
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t just want me so you can stop Clara. You could easily kill her and be done with it. You want me for another reason and if you want me to even consider joining you you’ll tell me what it is,” I said, staring into his dark blue eyes. The corners of them crinkled as he grinned with pride the way a parent might grin when proud of their child.
“Very astute, Eddie. Yes, there is another reason and I will happily tell you. I am surprised…” he trailed off and looked towards the grimy window. I looked too but it was impossible to see out of.
“What?” I asked him, tensing up.
“We have company,” he replied in a low voice. I followed him as he strode from the room, across a ridiculously large foyer and then tore open the grand double doors of the house. The garden was wild and overgrown. Grass and weeds tangled up well above my waist. The old cobbled pathway no longer cut a gap through the garden but had been overtaken by weeds. At the end of the garden standing on the other side of a rickety and rusted gate was Clara Winters. Gabe and Alison stood by her side and behind them was an army of nervous sorcerers. Round two was about to begin.
Chapter Sixteen
Clara had managed to compose herself since I last saw her, and she now stood stoically at the end of the garden, her chin raised high in defiance and her face stony. Her hands were at her sides and her fingers stretched out, she was ready for a fight. I wondered how scared she really was on the inside. I noticed that on her left stood her father, Arthur Winters. I hadn’t seen him for a few years and what was left of his blonde hair was now gone completely and a shiny dome was on display. He did not look ready for a fight, if anything he looked tired as if he’d already spent a lifetime fighting and would give anything for it to be over. Gabe was on Clara’s right looking at me warily, unsure whether he should join me or wait for me to join him.