A Mage's Fall: Dark Manhattan (Malachi English Book 2)

by Andy Hyland

  “If I knew how to fix that I’d have done it already,” I snapped. “Sorry. If you’ve got any suggestions, I’m open to them. Seriously.”

  “Mercy mentioned the whole mental block thing. I won’t talk about emotions, because, you know, we’re male and all that. If it’s a mental thing, I think you need to ask yourself why you don’t want the magic.”

  “I do want the magic.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think you’re running scared of it. I’ve seen the way you look at me when I’m casting lately. Something going on behind your eyes and I don’t know what it is. And if I don’t know, then nobody else will either. You’re going to have to figure it out.”

  I did what any self-respecting man does in the face of awkward conversations, and changed the subject. “So, this list,” I said. “Want to hit another name?”

  “Don’t think I can. I need to crash. Recharge a bit. You should do the same. Still, I get your point. Time is of the essence, apparently.”

  “Let’s split it then.” I tore the list in half, making sure that I kept the piece with Marvin Drall’s details on. I owed it to Benny to check that out personally. “Personally, I think we’re too late on all of these. Take notes and burn the body if you can. If we can figure out a pattern, we can get on with the real job – stopping it happening again.”

  We split and I headed home. I stroked the doorframe on my way in, all too aware of the lack of protective runes. People had offered to put some up for me, but it was my pad, and the runes should be mine. It would have felt wrong otherwise. Out of place. Invasive, almost.

  I checked my phone out of habit, hoping that some texts or voicemail from Julie might have crept in and set up home while I wasn’t looking. Nothing. The shower ran hot for a while, me standing underneath and wishing it could wash away memories. Then I slept fitfully, waking as the last rays of the afternoon hit the windows, Scorpio’s black eyeless face fading as I opened my eyes. Draining more coffee that was probably healthy, I put together a plan for the night. I’d prefer to search for Marvin a bit later on, once night had properly fallen. That left me time to hit the Outworld Emporium, say goodbye to the staff and verbally submit my resignation to whoever was around to take it. At least with Julie back the financial problems would sort themselves out.

  I walked briskly, taking a cab part of the way, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible. If you’re going to tear a plaster off your skin, best rip it fast. It hurts, but it’s in the past that much sooner. Kelly was working, with Mandy over near the Marvel section, talking to some guy who was showing her his Iron Man wristwatch.

  “Hey boss,” Kelly said, looking up from her phone.

  I shook my head. “Not any longer. Came in to say goodbye and thanks. My work here is done.” I tried to flash a grin but didn’t quite manage it.

  She nodded. “Had a feeling you were going to do that. We’re not…happy about whatever’s going down, you know that right? We like you. We consider you one of us, and there is no higher compliment we can bestow. But I get it. Maybe it’s not what it looks like, and you two will work it out, yeah?”

  “Who knows? But for now, this is me signing off. If you could let everyone know, I’d appreciate it. Don’t feel like goodbye drinks or anything.”

  “Sure. Hey, hang on.” She reached underneath the counter and pulled out a slim brown envelope. “This was here when I came in. Your name on it. And Anton was in yesterday – said you’re welcome to be the first to try out the new floor when it opens next month.”

  “Good to know my food options are wide open.”

  “Take care of yourself. And if you ever come back in, make sure you do it when I’m here. I’ll make sure you get the staff discount.”

  My only formal responsibility to the real world dealt with, my obligations fulfilled, I nodded farewell and left. Outside I opened the envelope and peered in. Cash. A fair bit of it as well. Anger welled up, but I kicked it back down before it got a foothold. She was playing fair, that’s all. Couldn’t blame her for that. An explanation would have been nice, a final conversation over a drink…but maybe neither of us needed that. Maybe she needed to go her own way and turn her back once and for all on the nasty little world she’d stumbled into. Yeah, that’s probably what she’d decided during her time at Benny’s. I tucked the envelope into a pocket – no need to make a stupid, pointless gesture like refusing or throwing away hard cash, and headed north. Hamilton Heights awaited.

  The walk took me quite naturally up Central Park West. It’s surely just coincidence that Julie lived there, in the huge art deco masterpiece stuck between Ninety and Niney-first. And it was merely a fact of life that as I walked past my legs started to feel tired, so I nipped into the park and stood inside on the path, looking up at the building through the trees. Julie lived on the fifth floor in a spacious and altogether amazing apartment. I’d been there once, and got a brief look at how the other half live. Her Dad paid for it all, of course. High-earning banker and first-rate mage. Some people really do have it all. Unless you start thinking about the fact that he stood by while his wife was murdered, and ended up killing himself to give his daughter a chance at freedom. Come to think of it, maybe I didn’t have it so bad. Besides, who wants to work in an office all day?

  As I stared up at what I was pretty sure was Julie’s windows, the lights went off. My heart raced at the thought of seeing her walking out of the building. Yes, I know the sensible thing was to walk away, to create some real physical distance between us, but I’d never put much truck in being sensible up to this point, and wasn’t about to start now. One final look. Maybe she’d smile.

  A car pulled up outside – BMW, but a 3-series, nothing too fancy. Greg the doorman, in his impeccably-pressed green uniform, walked out and nodded at the guy getting out of the car. The man, who, ever since I saw him last night, I’d been referring to mentally as the goatee tosser. Younger than I’d first thought – early twenties maybe, but he dressed older. He nodded at Greg but then looked away immediately. Typical behavior for people who don’t think doormen are worth taking notice of. Idiots. It’s the people at the bottom of the food chain who are the real gatekeepers in our world, and who see the most. Greg cut him a hard look but remained completely professional. He waited there patiently until Julie skipped – skipped, damn it – out of the door.

  I got to see the smile, but I wish it hadn’t been directed in goatee tosser’s direction. She was dressed in a knee-length black skirt and a long white shirt. Understated but gorgeous, as usual. I would have stayed here watching for the rest of the night if I’d been able to. But then the rock hit me on the back of the head.

  “Ow.” I span round but there was nobody behind me. A short sharp whistle came from overhead, in the branches. I looked up. There, sat on two thick boughs, which were bending and close to breaking, were a couple of gargoyles. Short, stumpy and gray-skinned beasts. One with large tusks, and the other with four eyes and two noses. They were both grinning widely. Four-eyes was throwing a rock up into the air and catching it again.

  “You two again,” I said in a low voice. “You coming down here, or does everyone have to see me shouting up into the trees? Tusky shook his head and pointed further into the park. “Fine. Have it your way. I’ll give you ten minutes. That’s it.”

  I strode over past the bridle path and close to the lake, where the running path was deserted as far as I could see in either direction. The ground shook slightly as the two gargoyles landed. “Gary and Kevin, right? Frank mentioned your names. Said to look in on you from time to time.” Frank, Julie’s Dad, was their creator. Another annoying addition to his list of achievements.

  Their heads bowed slightly at the mention of Frank’s name, and they each reached forward and touched the ground. “The master gone now,” said Tusky, the only one of the two who could speak. “We serve girl. Only girl.”

  “Does she know about you yet?”

  He nodded. “Have met. Serve girl
now.”

  “And you’re throwing rocks at me because…?”

  Four-eyes looked at the rock in his hand and gave it a quick toss, eyeing me up for direction and distance. Tusky jabbed a stunted figure in my direction. “You stay away. You go. Not come back. Not now.”

  “That’s a message from her?”

  “Straight from boss,” he said, bobbing his head up and down in a nod.

  “Well that’s pretty clear-cut then. I’ll be on my way and wish you chaps a pleasant and happy life. Tell Julie I get it. You won’t find me loitering again.”

  I turned my back on them and walked up the cycle path. I’d head up the side of the lake and then cut north-west when I reached the end.

  “One thing,” Tusky shouted from behind me. “Last bit of message. From girl.”

  “Yeah?”

  Four-eyes launched himself at me and hovered in front of my face, leathery wings beating hard to keep him there. He smiled, and then smashed his head into my mouth. Which was the equivalent of running at full tilt into a wall. I went down, hard.

  By the time the stars stopped circling and I could stand again, Kevin and Gary were gone. I’d have to remember to ask them which was which when I saw them again. Which was unlikely, because I’d definitely been given my marching orders. Gingerly I reached up and patted my mouth. Lips were a mess but the teeth were okay. Result. Nothing to do but walk it off. It might have been my imagination, or maybe a small rock did buzz past my head as I strolled away.

  The contact details I had for Marvin Drall took me to a four-story building on West 140th Street, off Amsterdam Avenue. Nothing as quirky or individual as Scorpio’s place. This was as bland a home as you could imagine. Which was probably the point. Washington Heights, my own little neighborhood, was to the north, but I’d not spent any great time down here. It wasn’t where the action was in Manhattan. Which, again, was probably the point.

  There was a numeric pad on the entrance door, which didn’t present any great trouble, and once inside I made my way up the stairwell to the top floor. Apartment seven of eight, two apartments to each floor. Knocking seemed like a complete waste of time at this point, so I got to work on the lock, which was trickier than it first appeared. Still, five minutes later I heard the satisfying click of a job well done, and pushed the door open.

  Once again, a quick sense-sweep didn’t highlight anything magical, or indeed alive. Certainly there were no runes or other protection systems in place, just like at Scorpio’s. I was sure by now this was because they’d been deactivated, rather than two very careful mages simply not bothering with basic security.

  The place was simple but cozy. A hallway, with a few pictures but no photos. Living room, kitchen diner, bathroom, bedroom. All normal, with a few signs of a solitary life. What did the Union note say? Powders and potions were his thing. Either he had a workshop somewhere else, or I was missing something.

  There wasn’t a bookcase, so I spent half an hour systematically tapping my way round the walls, trying the obvious places first. Only in the bathroom, which I left until last, did I strike gold. The back wall, holding a cabinet at head height and a washbasin, sounded oddly hollow. I pushed, nothing gave. I turned the taps on and off, water came out. Only when I opened the cabinet with a quick tap to the corner did anything happen. The wall jolted slightly, and I was able to push it back. It moved smoothly on hinges, taking the cabinet and basin along for the ride.

  I stood in another, remarkably similar bathroom – the one belonging to the other apartment on this floor. The crafty bugger had bought up both of them, lived in number seven and commuted via the bathrooms each day to number eight. Good thinking. I’d have to keep an eye out for any of my own neighbors who were thinking of selling up.

  This place was the real deal – an Aladdin’s cave of chemistry equipment and stoppered vials that hung in their hundreds on racks. I’d seen it before, with Becky and on a much smaller scale. You part-mixed the elements of a potion and they stayed inert and harmless. Then, when you got a buyer, you completed the mixing, which could be as simple as pouring a blue fluid into a green one. Voila. Potion complete, sale made, all for cash thank-you-very-much. There were two rooms of this stuff. The windows had blinds fixed shut across them. There were notepads, a laptop, and some model aircraft magazines next to a half-drunk mug of coffee. I had a bad feeling about this. There was no stench of death so far, but with so many smells and vapors oozing through the place I didn’t have any faith in my nose to smell anything accurately at the moment.

  The door to the room in the far corner – it was the bedroom in the other apartment – was locked. Nothing that could be picked, either – looked like someone had jammed a pen into the keyhole and snapped it down hard. There wasn’t going to be a neat and tidy way to do this. I stepped back against the far wall, gave it a two-step run up, and kicked hard at lock level. It was only a simple internal door and lock, and gave easily, flying open and slamming against the wall.

  The body was fresher than Scorpio’s by several days, which was perhaps the only thing to be thankful for. It stank, but not quite as badly – the flesh hadn’t blackened and rotted to anywhere near the same extent. The differences ended there. The body was, again, naked – part of me was thankful that the sicko wasn’t only stripping the women. Eyes had been removed either clumsily or maliciously – I was going for option number two. The tongue was missing, leaving a ragged stump. And the chest was torn open, arteries ripped where the heart had been torn out. No finesse here. Butchery. Desecration, as Zack would so eloquently put it.

  Very few flies around. I pulled the mouth open slightly. Yep, there were the maggots. Closed room again. Say the eggs were planted here. One day to hatch, another three to five before the maggots grew little wings and flew off buzzing. Along with the state of the body, three days looked about right. Problem was, Benny hadn’t spoken to Marvin for about three weeks, maybe a bit more.

  I checked Marvin’s wrists, and wasn’t surprised to find deep red welts across them. He’d been tied up, then killed and laid here. Or laid here and killed. Probably the latter, from the look of the bloodstains. Why had they kept him alive for so long? And the potions were here – not like the ransacking of Scorpio’s knife collection.

  I sighed and stood up. No answers, just more questions. I grabbed a sheet from the bedroom in apartment seven and covered the body. Then I closed the door and headed out, being careful to seal the secret bathroom door fully before I left. Even if I had what it took to arrange and set the fire, rune-wise, this building had up to six other occupants, maybe families. And who knows what those potions would do, even in their incomplete state, if the flames got to them.

  I called Zack but his phone went to voicemail. The night was young, but I was all out of useful things to do to stay occupied. I headed north slowly, in no great rush to get home. There was probably just crap on TV tonight.

  I spotted the streetlamps flickering before I saw anything else. I breathed out and defocused slightly. There they were – hellkind. Three of them, smallish, scuttling along the walls, swift and long-limbed. They were sticking to the shadows – hard to get a fix on what exactly they were. I looked around – if I’d stuck to the main streets there wouldn’t have been a problem. But I was in the back streets now, unfamiliar territory. Nobody around apart from a young mother pushing a pram, coming towards me. That wouldn’t stop them – they’d go for her and the baby too. The only chance she had was for me to draw them off.

  I very obviously turned left into an alley running between a laundry and a long-closed minimarket. Dead end. Damn. I snapped my fingers, trying to kick-start the old brain into gear. Yes, there was a knife in my pocket, but there were three of them and they looked fast. Anything remotely subtle on the magic front was out of the question. The best chance I had was a quick, hard burst of energy. Something that would throw them back a bit, stun them. All I needed was space and time to get to somewhere more crowded where they wouldn’t dare make a move.r />
  They entered the alley, one on the ground, writhing and hissing, belly low, and one on each wall, padding carefully forward. “Hello boys,” I said, more confidently than I felt, flexing my fingers. “I’ve got to be honest with you. What happens next is going to be a big surprise for all of us.”

  I threw my arm forward, casting a shockwave that barreled out, covering the distance between us in no time. Back in the old days, my strongest cast would have knocked over maybe two of them. This one smashed all three. The one on the ground disintegrated, becoming mere meat that the blast blew back out of the alley. The other two got smashed against the walls, which in their turn began to buckle and crumble.

  This would have been a great time to get out, but the cast had taken me by surprise as well, throwing me backwards and winding me against a concrete upright, slamming my head back. I slumped down, the world spinning, the edge of my vision growing black, as the buildings, too weakened by the blast, started to collapse. Bugger.

  Chapter five

  I’d always pictured the foyer of heaven being crisp and white, but a few key clues made it clear that I wasn’t in the blessed realms quite yet. There were the sheets for one thing. And the unmistakable sidebars of a hospital bed. And that’s before we get to the tubes running in and out of my arm. No, all said and done, I clearly hadn’t struck gold and gone off to the new Jerusalem.

  I tried to sit up, managed it on my second attempt, and gave myself the once over. Soreness around the ribs – bit of bruising but nothing cracked. Mouth felt bad, but that was the after-effects of getting head-butted by a gargoyle. Overall, I felt pretty good. To throw that kind of hex and not even feel drained afterwards…that was something. Mind you, here I was in hospital, and I had no idea how long I’d been out.

  The door opened and a cheerful nurse stuck her head in. “Ah, thought you’d be with us before too long. Don’t move. I’ll get the doctor.”

  “There’s no need,” I started to say, but gave up when she disappeared before I could finish. In no time at all , a redheaded doctor was poking and prodding me, running through a long list of questions that I mostly ignored or grunted answers to.