by Martha Carr
“Earth needs to take a few lessons from Oriceran,” Louie told her, shaking his head.
“We used to have street vendors many years ago, but then people got greedy,” Ava explained. “But that isn’t why I came to see you! I learned some new moves today.”
She took her boots off, standing in the center of the floor. She crouched, bending her front leg and clenching her fists in front of her.
“You wanna do a little sparring?” She waggled her eyebrows.
14
Ava leapt from the couch, her straight leg aimed at Louie’s chest. Louie whirled to the right and turned back to face her, his clenched fists out in front of him and a smile on his face. Ava breathed heavily as she swiped a piece of hair away, smirking as she squatted on her right leg with her left stretched out to the side. She brought her hands together and bowed her head, quickly popping straight into the air and landing gently on the floor.
“Wow,” Louie said impressed. “You’re a regular martial arts rabbit.”
“I thought you wanted to learn,” she replied as she chopped her hands and quickly moved toward him.
“I would have you know that I am pretty bouncy myself.” He smiled and swung his arms back, flipping backward and landing on the edge of the couch.
“Nice!” Ava modded. “But are you balanced?”
She swung her arm out, catching Louie on the back of his calves, knocking his legs out from under him. He twisted his body as he fell, landing on his side on the couch and bouncing. Ava laughed and went back to the open space, stretching her arms high over her head and watching Louie pull himself up off the couch, rubbing his lower back.
“You getting old?” She laughed.
“I am much older than you might think.” He laughed. “I don’t know how people do this every day. I feel like my legs are jello already.”
“Your body gets stronger.” Ava shrugged and started walking around, looking at the different artifacts.
She stopped in front of the umbrella bucket and looked down at the sword, whose beautifully structured handle stuck out of the top. Louie was behind her readying himself for her next attack. She smiled and reached for the sword.
“We could always do it your way,” she offered, removing it from the bucket and swirling around.
As her hand grasped the hilt the heat built, until it was so hot she could no longer hold it. She gasped and dropped the sword, pulling her hand to her chest. She backed up, pressing her body against the wall. “What the hell was that?”
“Shit,” Louie cried, running over and taking her hand to examine it.
The skin was red and blistered, and she grimaced as he touched it gently. The sword belonged to him. Ava didn’t understand the power encased in the sword.
“Come with me,” he ordered, pulling her into his room and setting her down on the bed. “This won’t hurt. Just sit still.”
Ava swallowed hard, looking up at Louie with wide eyes as he pulled out his wand and swirled it over her hand. “Curse Repairo.” A white light illuminated the end of his wand and strands of magic like the frayed ends of a piece of rope, furled out, wrapping around Ava’s wounded hand. She looked away, closing her eyes as Louie worked to fix the damage the sword had done.
The light faded as he finished and he stood up, pushing the wand into his pocket. Ava was still turned away and her eyes were clamped shut, afraid to look back.
“There, all better,” Louie murmured kindly.
Ava opened one eye and looked at her hand, softening her face and letting her jaw drop. Her hand was back to normal, the skin repaired and no sign of redness or swelling. She turned her hand over, glancing at Louie and back at her hand. She was still not used to magic of that magnitude. She closed her mouth and shook her head, tears of confusion in the corners of her eyes.
“I don’t understand. Why would you have a sword like that in the house if it could harm you?” she asked quietly.
“It doesn’t harm me,” he told her, sprinting into the living room and coming back holding the sword. “See?”
He set the sword in the magic cabinet in the corner of the room and joined Ava on the bed, taking her hands in his. He took a deep breath, knowing he needed to explain. She wouldn’t just let this one go. Louie formed the words in his head—or at least tried—opening his mouth to speak and closing it again.
“You see...”
“Just say it, whatever it is. I’ve grown to expect the weird from you,” Ava replied with a crooked smile.
“I found the sword on Oriceran. I knew it was something different right away. It speaks to me… not out loud. I’m not crazy. It’s in my head.”
A smile spread across Ava’s face.
“Okay, yeah… that sounds crazy too. Magic is like that. It’s like it knows me… only me. The sword tells me where to strike and how to move before I can even see the shit flying at me. It told me to bond with Leira and follow her here. Follow her anywhere. There’s a connection between the sword and me, and that is why no one else can pick it up. The magic is too strong for you, being a puny human and all.”
“Hey,” she exclaimed, slapping his hand playfully.
“It’s true.” He chuckled. “The sword won’t let anyone else pick it up. Artifacts can hold the magic of many users. Some become powerful enough to turn a human to dust. All my other artifacts are locked away. Keeps the poachers from sniffing around too much.”
“You’re the only one who can use that sword?”
“I’m not sure if I’m the only one, but one of very few. It’s already saved my ass a couple of times. I would have been monster meat more than once.”
“But it didn’t save everyone.” Ava looked down at her hands.
“That is a true story.”
“Now I’m afraid to touch anything in here.”
“Don’t be.” He stood up and put his hand out. “Just stay away from the sword.”
“No problem. You hungry?”
“Starving,” Louie replied, holding his stomach.
“Come on, I’ll buy you a burger.” She smiled.
“No, I’ll buy you a burger,” he offered, flashing a big grin.
“Deal.”
The wind swept softly across the bright-green rolling hills of an estate located just inside horse country in Kentucky. The grasses sparkled with the evening dew and the setting sun in the distance cast an orange glow across the massive stone mansion. Horses whinnied in the fields as the caretaker moved them into the barns for the night.
Inside the house was quiet, the marble floors glistening, the ancient artifacts stored carefully on rows of shelves along the walls, and paintings of leaders past hung meticulously on the walls. The graceful chandelier in the foyer glistened and the lit candles set sparkling motes dancing along the walls. Through the left wing’s halls a low murmur of voices could be heard, having escaped through the cracks in the ornately carved doors to the meeting hall. Spread around the estate’s oak table in that room were a handful of the dark family’s elders; the main leaders of the group, including Sirius, who was looking worse for wear.
“I am the rightful leader of this family,” Sirius declared carefully, his cloak’s hood pulled over his head to shadow the healing scar over his right eye. “I had to recover in the peace and quiet of seclusion, but I am back now and there shouldn’t be any question on this.”
“With all due respect,” one of the elders said, both irritated with and scared of Sirius, “you disappeared for a year leaving only whispers of your whereabouts, and we had to move forward for the future of this family. We cannot just undo everything that we have built.”
Sirius tapped his fingers on the table like he always did when he sat at the head. He gritted his teeth when he looked at Agnes, who was nonchalantly sitting in his seat and ruling his family. He had known great things would come to her, which was in part why he’d spared her, but this was not what he had imagined.
“I see you have settled nicely into my spot,” Sirius snarled.
“I guess this family has lost touch with what the essence of a leader is.”
“That’s enough,” Agnes snapped, leaning forward. “We have heard your plea and listened to your reasoning, and we are now going to handle things like they have always been handled—through a conference with the leadership. If that is all, Sirius, the doorman will lead you out. We know how to get in touch with you.”
“There is a glimmer of change in the air,” Sirius mused, standing up and throwing his cape back. “When the portals have opened and the magic is brought to Earth you will wish your leader was there to guide you.”
With that Sirius walked to the door, waving his hands at the guards standing by. They looked at Agnes, and when she nodded they opened the wooden double doors. Sirius walked through the halls, staring at paintings of his ancestors and knowing full well the elders had no intention of bringing him back. If they refuse me, they too can pay the price.
Agnes got up from the table and walked to the window, standing tall and firm as the doorman let Sirius out of the mansion and he walked out to the fields. The family made it a point to open their portals outside; if any were opened within it was cause for alarm. They could never be too careful as they traveled from property to property, attempting to keep those who wished them harm at bay.
Sirius stood in the grass clutching his wand and looking at the horizon, which was now peppered with stars. He turned back and stared up at Agnes in the window, his eyes glistening under the moon. She tightened her lips and smiled as he waved his wand, opening a portal back to wherever he had come from. When she was sure he was gone she turned back to the group, blowing out a deep breath and returning to her chair.
“We need to get rid of him once and for all,” the older witch announced, shaking her head. “He is a nuisance, out to destroy everything this family has created since we came here centuries ago.”
“But how?” one of the wizards asked. “He may be an outcast, but he is still powerful. More powerful than most of us.”
“His power doesn’t make me scared enough to let him waltz back into this family,” the witch responded.
“What do you say, Agnes?”
She sat there for a moment, rubbing her chin and staring out the window at the moon. Sirius’s energy had completely dissipated, removing a boulder from her chest. She wasn’t afraid of him…not anymore. Not after all she had been through.
“It’s obvious he needs to be taken care of,” she agreed quietly.
“That whole shifter stunt has put us behind schedule,” another witch remarked. “Not only do we have Leira Berens and her troop of idiots to worry about, we have the government breathing down our necks. Those shifters killed agent Alan Cohen, leaving him lying in the street. Not to mention that our entire library was destroyed, including most of our spell books and some of our hand-written histories. It was a complete disaster.”
“All of those things can be rectified,” Agnes told them calmly. “But what we need to focus on is taking down Sirius once and for all. But how?”
“We could trap him,” one of the wizards suggested. “Tell him we made a decision, bring him to one of the properties with enchantments to stifle his magic, and take him down.”
“He will be waiting for a trap,” Agnes replied. “We made it very clear to him we were not interested in letting him back into our family. He knows that any contact outside of us going to him should be viewed as a threat. Besides, he created those and he can break them in a heartbeat. He wouldn’t set foot in a room if he sensed them. We don’t need another bloody battle on our hands, not between family.”
The elders sat quietly staring at Agnes, waiting for her to come up with something; anything that could prove useful. Agnes knew there wasn’t much they could do.
Instead of focusing on tricks to take out Sirius, her mind shifted to Leira and the plans she had for her. She wanted to see her dead, and not just dead, but in agony until Agnes ended her life.
But Agnes knew Leira wouldn’t stand by and let that happen.
She would hunt for the wizard, and if she had learned anything about the Jasper Elf, Leira wouldn’t stop until one or both were dead.
15
Sirius growled as he stared down at the orange arrows in the underground railway, his body hidden in the shadows. He watched droves of magical creatures making their way to and from the main station below. He was angry; he was now back in the wind, with no place to batten down. He would just have to go back to what was left of his misfits and continue with his plan. There was no time, at least not yet, to worry about taking his frustration out on his family. They would have their moment.
He circled his wand around his head and dark sparks cascaded over his body. His clothes changed, the long flowing cape shortening into a suit jacket, his torn and tattered robe repairing and changing until he was dressed like any of the others. He finished his disguise with a large-brimmed dark Panama hat with a black and red ribbon as a hatband. He pulled the brim forward and clutched his satchel, now a suitcase.
Sirius followed the orange arrows to the main platform and followed the horde to the train. He stepped inside and moved to the back, taking a seat in the corner—a shadowy spot where no one would pay him much attention. The train lurched forward, jolting him. He pulled out his phone and read the instructions texted from one of his contacts.
Deposit the money into account number 1254 4856 8456 under the name Harry Houdini. When it has cleared, there will be no need to contact us. The hit will be completed.
Sirius sighed and opened his bank app, putting in the information for the transfer. He stared at the screen for a moment, wondering if his crew could pull it off. He knew they were good, but they were rogues—those not fit for a dark family—and after the last showing he couldn’t depend on them to take down the simplest of magical creatures. A furry troll took down half my crew.
He shook his head and pressed send, waiting for the confirmation and smiling menacingly. Leira Berens, you have been a thorn in my side since you came onto the scene and so has your little roadie Correk. No matter. What I can’t do, the professionals will take care of.
“Next stop, Chicago Cultural Center,” said the announcer.
Sirius smiled and shoved his phone back into his pocket, picking up his suitcase and holding it into his lap. As they pulled into the station, the train moved forward slowly and an oncoming train stopped next to them. Sirius looked straight ahead, waiting for the doors to open, not noticing Louie, who was on the next train reading something on his phone. Sirius stood and left the train, grimacing at the small children who had broken away from their mothers and were casting spells at each other.
Louie got off his train as well and looked around, watching the children casting back and forth and the little frogs jumping around the platform. He laughed, noting the tall thin man walking away from them. “Nice hat,” he whispered to himself. “Might have to get me one of those when I get back home.”
Correk raised his twenty-two-ounce drink and took a sip, the soda bubbling through the long red straw. He set it back in the cup holder in the center console and grabbed a chip, looking at it thoughtfully before popping it in his mouth. Leira reached over and dug her hand into the bag, pulling out a handful and taking a bite. Her lip curled almost instantly.
“Oh, gross…salt and vinegar,” she griped, taking a sip of her water.
“I like ‘em. Not the norm.” Correk smiled.
“I don’t know if a snack was needed just to drive to Sam’s Club.” She laughed.
“Every trip is a road trip.” He smirked.
“Very true,” Leira replied cheerfully, glancing in her rearview mirror.
About five car-lengths back a blacked-out SUV turned on its lights, pulled away from the curb, and crept along behind them. The driver was wearing black and Leira could see his black leather gloves gripping onto the steering wheel. She turned back to the road and lowered one hand, pulling energy into a small orb in her palm. She cracked the wind
ow and let it slide out, watching as it floated along the edge of the curb and darted under the vehicle shadowing them.
The trail of dark energy streamed behind the SUV, so Leira knew they weren’t just some random traveler. She cleared her throat and Correk looked at her stern face. He had seen her serious detective look often enough to know when something wasn’t right.
“What’s going on?”
“We have a tail. A magical one,” she told him, glancing at the SUV in the mirror as it turned the corner after them. “From the looks of the dark magic streaming behind it, they aren’t following us for a friendly chat, either.”
“Pull over. We can take them out before they get out of the car,” Correk demanded, tossing the empty chip bag into the back seat.
“No, there are too many people around here,” she argued. “We need to pull them away from the innocents.”
Leira took the next left turn and headed through a series of neighborhoods, the houses getting older and more decrepit the deeper they went. When they reached the end of the street she looked around, finding an open gate that led to the old warehouse district.
It was a landscape of shuttered and abandoned buildings, far enough away where there shouldn’t be anyone besides a random homeless person. They policed the area often. Even more after Axiom purchased the land for one of their automotive industry projects that never came to fruition.
She drove her green Mustang through the gate and crept over the crumbling roadway to an octagonal spread of buildings. She tapped her brakes and waited for the tail to follow. Once they had come through the gates she turned into the center.
There was a small lot to the right that Leira pulled the Mustang into, and she jumped out and knelt behind the car. Correk joined her and they peered around the back of the car, waiting for the SUV to show. It crept slowly forward and stopped on the curb, as six wizards dressed in black from head to toe piled out.