Left Hand Magic

by Nancy A. Collins

  As we opened the door at the end of the hallway, we were rewarded by the sight of the maternal furnace, sitting right where I had left it. Its stylized dragon’s head stared blindly up at the warehouse’s roof, its jaws frozen in midroar. I glimpsed steam curling from its nostrils, and when I looked down I saw a smudge pot, like those used in citrus groves during the winter, parked between its taloned feet, warming its copper belly.

  “It looks like Esau’s not wasting any time,” Hexe grunted. “He’s already incubating replacements.”

  He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and opened the hatch of the turnip-shaped body. There was a rush of steam, followed by the smell of composting plant matter. I looked inside the hollow container and saw a huge mound of rotting lawn clippings, discarded coffee grounds, and less-identifiable organic debris the size of an alligator’s nest.

  Suddenly there was movement deep within the mass, like a sleeper stirring underneath a blanket. A pallid human arm emerged from the pile of decomposing vegetation, like a grub burrowing out of a rotten stump. I stared in disbelief as a milk white, unfinished thing writhed out of the hatchway, only to flop onto the floor like a sack of wet laundry.

  From the waist up it appeared to be a fully grown adult male, save that it was completely bald and missing both its eyebrows and eyelashes. Its legs were fused together, so that it resembled an albino tadpole, and at the very end of its “tail” was a single chicken’s foot, the toes of which clawed feebly at the floorboards like a newly hatched peep learning to scratch.

  The abomination lifted its head and gave voice to a single, wordless cry, before collapsing dead. Within seconds of expiring, the homunculus’s body began to decompose, just like its older brother’s had earlier that night.

  “Born of corruption, to corruption they return,” Hexe said grimly. “At least we’ve located the maternal furnace. Now all we have to do is find the blueprints.”

  “I think I know where he keeps them.”

  As I cautiously peered around the doorjamb into the room across the hall, it seemed no different than when I’d last seen it. The stuffed giraffe was still there, as was the black hen sitting in its cage and the pentacle on the floor. Then my eyes adjusted to the gloom, and I saw that the body on the slab had been removed and in its place stood a large cage, like those used to transport dangerous animals.

  “It smells like the monkey house at the zoo,” Hexe whispered under his breath.

  As we neared the cage, I saw a couple of shadowy figures crouched in one corner, eating from a metal trough. One of them turned to look at us with a quick, birdlike movement of his head. It was Cain—or perhaps his identical “brother,” Seth, as it was impossible to tell one homunculus from the other now. He was completely naked, his lower body smeared with filth, especially his scaly bird feet.

  Despite Cain’s hair being liberally shot through with gray, his face remained as smooth and unlined as a mask, no doubt because he had not lived long enough to actually break it in. There was no recognition in the SOA leader’s pale gray eyes; instead they seemed as clear as freshly washed windows, and completely unclouded by thought. The homunculus returned to his feeding, shoving a handful of writhing something into his mouth.

  “Ugh! What are they eating?” I grimaced.

  “Probably the traditionally approved diet for homunculi: live earthworms and lavender seeds,” Hexe replied.

  A squirt of bile scorched the back of my throat. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “You can puke later,” Hexe chided as he rifled through an antique rolltop desk covered in a drift of yellowed newspaper and old parchment. “Right now we have to find those blueprints and destroy them.”

  A couple of minutes into our search, we stopped upon hearing a pair of male voices, raised in argument, in the hallway. Hexe grabbed my hand and together we scrambled into the deep shadows of the loft. Seconds after we hid behind a large wooden packing crate in the farthest corner, the door swung open and Esau, with Edgar perched on his left shoulder, entered the room, followed closely by his KPU lieutenant, Skal. Esau had his usual imperious look on his face, but judging from the younger wizard’s haggard appearance and the massive pit stains on his shirt, Skal had not eaten, slept, or bathed since the night of the rally.

  “This is it, Esau—I’m through with this crazy scheme of yours! Seeing that the centaur colt scored an overdose of ketamine was one thing, and making sure the ipotane got drunk and fell off the pier was simple enough. But I should have known better than to get mixed up with this demon shite! I only agreed to help you in the first place because you promised Dori would make the perfect frame for the nump bitch’s death. Well, the nump bitch is still alive, Esau, and now Dori is talking to the PTU!

  “My mother was sent to the Tombs to take her testimony. She saw me buying the binding talisman when Dori breathed on the scrying stone. Mom just called ten minutes ago to inform me that she’s through covering for me. She says I have two options: either turn myself in or never set foot in Golgotham again.”

  Esau gave his second-in-command a withering glance. “You’re as mother-haunted as my wretched excuse for a nephew. When you first came to me, you had fire in your belly. You wanted revolution, and you wanted it now! I told you how we could bring it about, and you swore to it in blood, if you remember.” The necromancer reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a small parchment scroll bound with a red satin ribbon, holding it up so Skal could see it. “Are you reneging on that oath?”

  The young wizard’s face went pale. “Of course not. I’m not the kind to go back on my word, Esau. You know I’m as dedicated to the cause as you are. But what are we going to do? The Paranormal Threat Unit has traced the demon attack back to us.”

  “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, my friend,” Esau replied with a humorless smile. “The PTU has traced it back to you.”

  The scroll Esau held abruptly burst into flame. Skal opened his mouth to scream, but all that came out was a jet of blue fire. Twin tongues of flame shot from his eye sockets, then his ears, as if someone had poured gasoline into a jack-o’-lantern. Skal dropped to the floor as the fire burned him from the inside out, his arms and legs drawing into his body as the intense heat shrank his tissue and muscles.

  I covered my mouth in horror, for fear I might give away our position, and quickly looked away. Skal was a loathsome person, and responsible, by his own admission, for the death of two of my friends—but nobody deserved to die such a death.

  When I looked again, Esau was nudging the smoldering remains with the tip of his shoe, nodding his head in apparent satisfaction. His familiar, Edgar, spread his wings and cawed raucously, as if laughing.

  “Take this traitor’s body and dump it in the deepest trench in the ocean,” Esau commanded, giving the charred corpse a final, dismissive kick. “Let Skua think her precious son has fled Golgotham rather than face the GoBOO’s so-called justice. I will make a show of disavowing his ‘extremism’ at the next rally, to throw the hounds off my scent.”

  Edgar obediently hopped down from Esau’s shoulder, taking on his demon-bird aspect in order to better carry out his master’s bidding. Sinking his talons deep into what was left of Skal’s body, the familiar clattered its toothed bill in farewell, then, with a single beat of its monstrous wings, flew out through the open skylight.

  “Well, that settles that little problem,” Esau announced to the empty air, wiping his hands against his lapels. The necromancer walked over to the cage containing the remaining homunculi and leaned against its bars, studying his handiwork. “Now if only you morons could tell me what happened to Abel.” Seth and Cain barely glanced up as he spoke, preferring to shovel their meal of earthworms and lavender seeds into their mouths. Esau scowled and picked up an instrument from his nearby workbench. “Look at me when I’m talking, you misbegotten idiot!” he snapped as he thrust the electric cattle prod into the side of one of the homunculi.

  The creature shrieked in pain and surprise, but inste
ad of striking out at its tormentor, fell instead upon its companion, who returned the attack with equal vehemence. Esau stood and watched the two roll about on the floor of the cage as they fought tooth and nail, a cruel smirk on his face. After a couple of minutes the homunculi ceased their fighting, whether out of exhaustion or boredom, and returned to their feeding trough.

  “You’re no different than the nump who fathered you,” Esau sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. “Reacting to all uncomfortable stimuli with brute aggression; striking out at the closest thing at hand, regardless of the role it played. Your lust and hunger control you, just as they do your father’s race. My mistake was in allowing your base nature to inflame my own. That was sloppy of me.”

  Putting aside the cattle prod, he reached inside his shirt and pulled out an amulet affixed to a long golden chain. He wrapped his left hand about it and made a noise like a farmer calling hogs: “Sooo-ie!”

  There was a ripple in the air of the loft, like that of heat rising from a sidewalk, accompanied by the strong smell of brimstone, and the pig-faced demon that had attacked me appeared before the necromancer. The demon knelt on one knee before Esau, raising its claws in ritual supplication. “Master, I implore you,” the demon begged in a deep, grunting voice. “Release me from your service. I cannot recover from the wounds dealt me by the warlock prince and his human bitch in this realm.” The infernal gestured to its mangled, melted face and missing eye. “Every moment I spend on this plane of existence is agony to me. I must return to my home, so I may bathe in the brimstone pits and make myself whole once more. I only ask this of you so I may serve you better.”

  “You must think I’m as empty-headed as those things over there,” Esau said with a dry laugh, pointing to the homunculi in their cage. “I have set you to a task, and you have failed at it twice. You fail a third time and you are bound to my will for eternity. I’m not about to let you off the hook. You’ll suffer your wounds until you bring her to me—is that understood? “

  “Perfectly, Master,” the demon replied, disappearing as suddenly as it had first appeared—

  Only to materialize at my side.

  Chapter 27

  I screamed as the demon tore me from Hexe’s arms and, in a single bound, leaped the length of the room, to land before Esau.

  “The girl is yours,” the infernal said, hurling me at the wizard’s feet. “Now return me to my home, as you promised.”

  “I’ll free you when I am good and ready,” Esau snarled at the demon.

  The necromancer grabbed me by the wrist and yanked me to my feet. I tried to break free of his grasp, but his hold was as strong as iron. “I would advise you not to struggle, my dear,” he hissed, as he bent my newly healed arm behind my back. “I know how all too easy it is to permanently damage a limb.” I bit my lower lip, determined not to give him the satisfaction of hearing me cry out in pain.

  “Hexe!” Esau’s voice shook the walls like a thunderclap. “So you finally put everything together, eh? Well, it certainly took you long enough. Show yourself, boy! There’s no point in pretending to hide now.”

  “Let her go, Uncle,” Hexe said as he stepped out into the open. “You have no reason to kill Tate now. She’s no threat to you.”

  “That may be true,” the necromancer replied. “But what she represents threatens all of Golgotham.”

  Hexe shook his head in disgust. “You’re a chuffing hypocrite, you know that? You’ve done more to harm Golgotham than a dozen real estate developers ever could.”

  “That beating my proxies gave you must have rattled your brains,” Esau said with a derisive laugh. “There is nothing I would not do to protect Golgotham’s sovereignty and safeguard it from those who would pollute and weaken it.”

  “Including killing and terrorizing your fellow citizens?”

  “The deaths of Quid and Jarl were regrettable. I had hoped their murders would result in Golgotham sealing its borders and becoming a human-free zone, but the populace wasn’t ready for such radical change. Still, your friends’ blood will not have been spilled in vain. The Unification Party is strong, and continues to grow. Come the next election, I will replace that stooge Lash as mayor of Golgotham. I will see to it that Quid and Jarl are treated as martyrs, and raise statues in their honor.”

  “And what about Gus and Bayard? Will you raise statues to them as well?” Hexe asked sarcastically. “Or are only Kymerans worthy to be recognized as martyrs?”

  “What are a couple of five-fingered half-beasts of burden compared to the new era I will bring forth?” Esau replied with a shrug. “Their ancestors swore fealty to my forefathers, and by rights their lives were mine to do with as I saw fit. Their spirits will be appeased knowing their deaths were necessary to bring Golgotham’s savior to power and keep our borders safe from the real estate developers and the fast-food chains.”

  I turned to glare at my captor in disgust. “You orchestrated all this death and suffering, simply to put yourself in politics and keep McDonald’s and Starbucks out of Golgotham?”

  “Trust a nump to see it in such a limited fashion!” Esau growled, giving my pinned arm an extra crank for daring to speak out. “The Kymeran people deserve better than a few cramped city blocks, selling cheap magic to disgruntled office workers and cheating husbands. For years the city of New York has slowly encroached on our sovereign territory; it is time we finally pushed back to extend our borders. Until we dedicate ourselves to recapturing the glory that was Kymera, we will never be free of human oppression!”

  “Kymera was drowned by the Indian Ocean millennia ago, and what you’re planning will destroy Golgotham just as surely as the tsunami!” Hexe countered. “I thought perhaps you were merely bitter and power-hungry, but you truly are mad if you think I will allow you to destroy the treaty and declare war on New York City!”

  “What makes you think you’ll live that long?” Esau laughed as the door to the homunculi’s cage swung open of its own accord and Seth and Cain came bounding toward Hexe.

  He raised his right hand and one of the brothers fell to the floor, as rigid as a department store mannequin, while his twin remained unaffected. Screeching at the top of his lungs like an angry baboon, the freed homunculus delivered a vicious roundhouse blow to Hexe’s head.

  “I’ve wanted to do that ever since you were five years old,” Esau laughed via his proxy. “Your mother shamed our blood by bringing you into this world, and it’s high time I took you out of it!”

  Hexe backpedaled, trying to put distance between himself and the homunculus. The creature lunged at him, coming in low like a grappler. But this time Hexe was ready for him, freezing him in midtakedown.

  Esau cursed as he was forced to relinquish control of his living puppet and turned to the demon crouched beside him. “Kill him!”

  The infernal gave a frightened squeal and shook its head, as it still wore the wounds from the last time it had crossed Hexe’s path. The necromancer held up the amulet with his free hand and shook it at the reluctant hellspawn.

  “By this seal, I command you to do as I say!” he shouted angrily. “Kill him—and once you’ve finished tearing him limb from limb, I want you to take his head and show it to his mother before you kill her. Then, and only then, will I set you free!”

  The demon snarled and grudgingly bowed his head in acceptance of his task, his remaining two eyes filled with a hate as hot as boiling lead. The infernal spun about to face Hexe, and with a single leap cleared half the space between them.

  As the demon advanced on him, Hexe raised his right hand to his forehead, palm outward, shielding his third eye. A beam of white light shot forth from its center, where the lines of Heart, Fate, Head, and Life intersect, bathing the hellish courtier in its radiance. The demon’s bellow of pain was so loud it shook the dust from the rafters and left my ears ringing. Now I understood the demon’s reluctance to obey Esau’s command. The wounds it had suffered the last time it confronted Hexe had weakened it considerably. Huge
blisters rose across the demon’s torso, causing the skin to fall away like handfuls of wet paper. It turned to look at Esau, stretching out a claw in supplication as the flesh was stripped from its body, begging to be released from its torment, but the necromancer merely stared ahead, his face as unreadable as a statue’s.

  There was a sudden movement behind Hexe, as Seth and Cain, now freed from their stasis spells, grabbed him from either side, pinning his arms behind his back. The white light winked out as if turned off at the switch. As Hexe struggled to extricate himself, the demon got back onto its crooked hind legs, tossed back its head and made a noise that passed for laughter among the damned.

  The hellspawn stepped forward and grabbed Hexe by the throat, holding his head so that he could not look away, and pried his jaws apart with one of its talons. It then placed its face scant inches from his and took a deep, deep breath, so that its chest swelled out like a blacksmith’s bellows, slowly sucking the air from Hexe’s lungs into its own. I watched in horror as Hexe gasped for breath, his eyes starting from his head as his face began to turn blue. His body bucked and twisted mightily, but he was unable to break free from the homunculi’s grasp.

  “Your lover is doomed,” Esau whispered in my ear. “And it is all because of you. If you had never set foot in Golgotham, none of this would be happening. Jarl, Quid, Skal . . . all of them would still be alive.”