The Wizards of Central Park West_Ultimate Urban Fantasy

by Arjay Lewis

A black woman, her head covered with a scarf, was on her hands and knees in a corner. She turned with terrified eyes, but seeing who came through the door, relaxed.

  A slightly younger version of Trefoil stood before Eddie.

  Eddie looked to the older man at his side. The Trefoil of his acquaintance stood there in his robes, invisible to all but him.

  The younger man stood directly in front of Trefoil in a velvet frock coat, brocade vest, white shirt, with a black satin cravat around the sparkling white collar. His hair was long and curly, but his beard was neatly trimmed and well cared for.

  Eddie looked from Trefoil to Trefoil. His Trefoil had aged, but not more than five or ten years in appearance. His hair was still dark gray and he’d gained only a few wrinkles around the eyes.

  “Hear me, do you not? We must dig it up,” the woman said with an accent that reflected the Caribbean. “We must use its great power!”

  She turned back to the floor and began to remove floorboards.

  Younger Trefoil went to her and fell to his knees. He took her hands and pulled her gently to a sitting position.

  “Mara, I cannot,” he said. “It goes against all I have sworn to protect.”

  Mara pulled her hands free from his and grasped his coat by the shoulders. “Then go. Go out and strike them dead. I know you have the power to do it.”

  A woman’s scream came from outside, and they both looked to the doorway and listened.

  “These people are friends!” she hissed. “They came here to live some place other than slums! They came because of you!”

  “They came because of Andrew Williams. I am not responsible,” Trefoil said.

  “But, you have the power!” she demanded, then let him go. She stood and strode purposely to a wooden armoire. Reaching behind it, she extracted a wizard’s staff. She held it out to him. “Use it!”

  “I do not—”

  “You claim to fight evil,” Mara snapped and jabbed her finger toward the door. “There be evil. Smite them where they stand.”

  The door burst open and two men in uniform crashed into the room, right through Eddie and the elder Trefoil. They held their clubs at the ready.

  The woman handed Trefoil his staff, then moved behind him.

  The two men were large and brutish; the bigger of the two barely fit his uniform.

  “You niggers going to go quietly?” the large policeman threatened, while he tapped his hand with his wicked looking club.

  “You have no right,” Trefoil said. “We bought this land and it is ours.”

  “Don’t he talk nice, sarge?” the smaller man said, giving a crooked smile that showed a history of poor dental hygiene.

  “I ain’t here to argue with ye,” the sergeant said as he moved closer, his eye on the stick Trefoil was holding. “The City of New York has evicted ye, and out ye go.”

  “You could jus’ leave,” the smaller man said, and his eyes sparkled with excitement, “or we’ll help you on your way.”

  The big man moved with surprising swiftness and circumambulated toward Trefoil. Trefoil’s jaw set, and his staff flashed blue light. Two beams slashed the air, and the men were slammed back against the far wall.

  “Yes!” Mara announced triumphantly, a smile growing on her face. She leaned closer to Trefoil and whispered in his ear. “Go, strike them all down.”

  “It will make no difference,” younger Trefoil said, and looked at the two men unconscious on the floor. “Bringing down these men will only make them send an army.”

  “Then you shall smite an army!” her voice rose ecstatically.

  Trefoil shook his head. “I will not. I gave my word to help Greywacke bring his plans to fruition. I came here tonight only for you. Come away with me.”

  She recoiled from him, her hand to her mouth. “You will not fight? You will let them take my land?”

  “We can move on. You and I, together. We shall find another place, rebuild.”

  “It is no better where e’er we go,” the woman spat out.

  “Mara, you know the power I wield. I can show you the world,” Trefoil tried to take her in his arms.

  She pushed him away. “Go with you? Coward! Go and save yourself, if that be your will. If you will not unleash your power, then I shall raise the demon. I can do it! My mother taught me the words.”

  She fell back to the corner and pulled at the floor boards, which came up in her hands.

  “I fight evil, and most of all the Great Evil. You want to unleash him,” Trefoil argued.

  “Get out!” she stormed. “Keep your word to that white interloper, who only chooses to befriend the rich.”

  Young Trefoil stared at her a moment as she began to pull away the dirt. He turned, walked out of the room, and shut the door behind him.

  Eddie and older Trefoil stood watching as she continued. She clawed the dirt with her hands, and dug.

  A groan came from one of the officers as he began to regain consciousness.

  She gave a cry of triumph, and pulled a golden chain from the dark soil. The round medallion sparkled in the light of the oil lamp.

  “Now, I have the power to stop them all,” Mara rose to her feet. She turned and saw the two men as they got up on their feet groggily.

  “What didst ye do to us, bitch?” the bigger man said.

  She laughed. “I have far worse for a fat pig like you.”

  She held up the amulet and began to chant, “Alsi ku nushi—”

  The air was suddenly charged like the summer sky right before a thunderstorm. A wind blew through the room, and the gold medal began to glow.

  “Enough of this,” the large man moved forward and brought his club down on her hand.

  A horrible cracking noise filled the air as her fingers were broken and the amulet fell. It bounced on the wooden floor and rolled back through the open floorboards and into the dirt.

  Shocked, Mara saw it fall. The pain had not yet reached her. With a wail, she leapt at the man.

  She never reached him.

  One quick swing of the club, and she fell to the floor, as blood poured from her head.

  “Oh Jesus,” the other man said, on his feet too late to stop his partner. He bent over Mara. “Ye killed her.”

  “Listen to me,” the bigger man looked down at the fallen body. “We were told to get them out. Who cares if a couple o’ niggers are dead?”

  He reached out with the club and knocked over the oil lamp. It fell to the floor and smashed, fire beginning to spread on the wooden floor.

  “There!” the big man said. “We’ve done our duty in this house.”

  Eddie and Trefoil followed the men out as the house began to burn.

  “The bigwigs said move ‘em out. We’ve gone and done it,” the bigger man rubbed his head. He glanced around to see that the area was clear of everyone except the Keepers. The red-haired woman helped her black husband to his feet, and they limped away with a cheap suitcase. Several other houses burned like the one they just left. “The newspapers are controlled by City Hall, no one will know of this.”

  “All this to build a park,” the younger man shook his head.

  Eddie stopped and looked at Trefoil, whose expression was grim.

  “That’s right, Eddie,” Trefoil said, tears reflected in his eyes in the firelight. “They killed Mara and destroyed Seneca Village to build Central Park.”

  Fifty

  Eddie’s vision faded to gray, then with a feeling that made his stomach turn, he found himself again on the platform in the extra-dimensional version of Grand Central. Reality—or what passed for it at this moment—had returned.

  He stood next to Trefoil, who held his staff and watched him. Trefoil’s eyes seemed older than a few moments earlier.

  Eddie tried to make his mouth work, but he was overwhelmed. He stared over to see his son still asleep, yet now he had been moved to another platform which hung at an impossible angle to his own.

  What if they did that today? Eddie thought. Just
came and took our house and land. Could I protect my wife, my sons, or even myself?

  He shook his head to clear it. “All right, Seneca Village was torn down, and it was brutal. What does that have to do with helping Big Red or stealing my kid?”

  “It hasn’t changed, Eddie,” Trefoil insisted. “Racism, brutality, the horrors men do to their fellow men. I see it every day.”

  “So do I and that makes me want to change it.”

  “That’s the way I used to think. I have lived as a wizard for over six hundred years. I’ve been more than a wizard, I’ve been a black man with a long life. I see it ain’t gonna change. Not while mankind is in charge.”

  “What are you saying?” Eddie shifted his body to put himself between Trefoil and his son in case the conversation went bad.

  “Let Abraxas have his way. Give him the fifth talisman, bring down Armageddon. When it’s over, we wizards will pick up the pieces.”

  “That’s crazy,” Eddie ranted.

  “Hear me out, it makes sense,” Trefoil clutched his staff. “It’ll be cataclysmic, and folks are gonna die. But, not everybody. We start over and guide mankind to a thousand years of peace.”

  Trefoil turned and gesticulated at the large open ceiling. “It’s all clear to me. Mara died, and for what? So Greywacke could create his place of power? So some self-important white developers could feel good about building a park for the common man?” He turned to face Eddie. “So I could get a Goddamn arch named after me?”

  “But, Armageddon—” Eddie backed away from Trefoil.

  “It’s going to happen anyway,” Trefoil speculated. “Maybe we’re just speeding up the process. Abraxas ain’t really all that bad, once you get to know him. He’s been around forever, and after forty thousand years, he’ll tell you, human beings don’t change.”

  Eddie looked back at the red giant. He sat with his arms folded and his legs crossed. He gave a smile and a shrug to Eddie, as if they were two neighbors exchanging familiarities.

  “You’ll be safe, and so will your family, I promise. I just want your help. What do you owe the other wizards? They’re nothin’ but a bunch of crackers, you come right down to it.”

  Eddie tried to think fast. “People will die.”

  Trefoil shrugged. “They’re mortals, they’ll all die sooner or later. You and me, we’re gonna live a long time—maybe forever if we want.”

  “Why me?” Eddie glanced over to Marlowe who lay unconscious.

  “I want all of the wizards to join me. But, you think in new ways. You can help me convince them that I did it for all.”

  “What happens if I don’t agree? I end up like Riftstone?”

  Trefoil exhaled with a sigh. “That was unfortunate. Riftstone knew that I tol’ Drusilicus’ apprentice about the amulet.”

  “So, you killed him.”

  “Hey man, it was more than that. He needed to be removed, to weaken the Five, so I could help Abraxas collect the talismans.”

  “And you faked your own injuries. Why?”

  Trefoil smiled and reached into his robe. “All part of the plan, maybe the smartest part.”

  He pulled out a black velvet bag and held it up. Eddie saw that the demon uncrossed his arms, stood up, and stared at what Trefoil held. “Do you know what this is?”

  Eddie glanced over at Abraxas again. “Something that big, red, and ugly wants?”

  “You’re good,” Trefoil smiled. “You know about the robbery of Mayan artifacts from the Metropolitan Museum of Art?”

  “You did it?”

  “Thass right,” Trefoil smirked. “An’ I got me a prize.”

  He pulled a flap open and a flat, black obsidian stone came from the bag, one surface polished to the point of being highly reflective. It appeared to suck the light away from its immediate area, and Trefoil’s hand almost disappeared into darkness.

  “That must be the Mirror of Tezcatlipoca,” Eddie looked upon the polished surface.

  "I’m impressed. Now you know the other reason we had to take out Riftstone.”

  “Yes, a blood sacrifice to activate it,” Eddie said. “Like the others.”

  “Only it was activated with the blood of one of the Five,” Trefoil gazed proudly at the dark stone.

  “I take it you brought that into Marlowe’s townhouse, despite all his protections.”

  “With your help and Marlowe’s. I had it on me in the hospital, and Marlowe brought me and the mirror right in his front door.” Trefoil held up the black, round stone.

  “That’s what caused the fireworks? It absorbed some of our powers?” Eddie reasoned.

  “If you hadn’t stopped it, this stone would possess all the power of the Five.”

  Eddie began to pace, just like when he was in the station house. “So you put yourself in a coma, so that we’d attempt to revive you, and then that mirror would absorb our powers. You didn’t count on me breaking free.”

  “That’s why I want your help, Eddie. You and me together, with Abraxas, will be unstoppable.”

  Eddie looked at the demon, who now watched the two men fixedly.

  “What if this bad boy gets that mirror and decides he wants to take all of us out, you included?” Eddie suggested. “The Five are his only threat. Once he’s got the upper hand, you think he’s just going to do what you want?”

  “It is his destiny to bring Armageddon. He has no interest in us. Once he possesses the fifth talisman, we won’t be able to stop him.”

  “So the mirror is the fourth. What is the fifth one?”

  “It can only be used on the solstice, when it is at its full power. All of that energy, three thousand years of it, will be transferred to the Great Evil and whoever helps him.”

  Eddie looked over at the demon. “Glad you’ve been holding back, big guy.”

  The demon shrugged noncommittally.

  “So,” Eddie said. “Tell you what. Give me the details about the last talisman, and I’ll consider joining you.”

  “That’s one jive ass offer, Eddie,” Trefoil ridiculed. “Work with me, and you’ll see it come to pass. Think about it—a new world, no crime, no murder, and none of the faults of the old, evil human race. A world of the enlightened.”

  Eddie realized he’d gotten as much information from Trefoil as he could. Now he would either have to commit, or take on Trefoil and Abraxas, with his son a hostage.

  “I know you got your staff back, Eddie,” Trefoil gave him a wink. “I don’t know how, but you do keep surprising me.”

  Eddie exhaled. His one ambush was gone. He needed to change tactics, quickly. “I don’t really think you want to hurt anyone, Trey. That’s why you used the Hand of Glory at my house. You could have killed everyone, but instead you put them to sleep.”

  “Figured that out as well, detective? You’re putting the pieces together.”

  “And Yamasuto and Cuccolo—they were crooks, so what if they got killed?”

  “Saved the Japanese authorities and FBI a lot of trouble on those two.”

  “So that’s your New World Order? You decide who lives and dies? That’s not the kind of world I want, Trefoil.”

  The smile faded on Trefoil’s face.

  “You got no choice,” Trefoil’s eyes grew small. He turned to the demon. “Abraxas!”

  The giant rose up and started toward them. Trefoil took the bag with the mirror and threw it to the creature, who lunged for it.

  “Back, demon!” Marlowe yelled, as he suddenly rose up, staff in hand. A white light lashed out at Abraxas.

  Stunned and off-center, the red monster fell back, and roared in anger. Marlowe surrounded the velvet bag with a beam of light and pulled it through the air toward him. It floated slowly as the energy was absorbed as quickly as Marlowe sent it.

  Trefoil gave a cry and fired a beam of blue light at Marlowe, who deflected it, while he pulled the bag toward him.

  Eddie summoned his staff. The wood slapped reassuringly into his hand, as his clothes shifted to his tunic
. He didn’t want to worry about breaking his phone or losing his wallet in battle.

  Eddie raised his staff and shot a red beam at Trefoil, who dodged and sent a blue bolt in response.

  Eddie gestured with his newly learned protection spell, and deflected Trefoil’s ray, which broke a part of a stone step, and knocked Eddie off his feet from the recoil.

  “Marlowe wasn’t kidding,” Eddie rolled over and leapt up.

  Trefoil fired another blue ray that pulled and yanked the bag away from Marlowe. They each pulled as if tethered to the bag and caught in an elaborate tug-of-war, the mirror consuming both their energies as they fought over it.

  Abraxas regained his feet and leapt between them to snatch the bag out of midair as easily as if he picked a flower. He pulled the bag open and lifted out the highly polished stone.

  Marlowe discharged another ray of white light, but the demon held out the mirror and the beam was pulled off course to be assimilated into the dark surface.

  “I have it! I have it!” Abraxas bellowed, and held it high over his head. A wind began to howl and a distant roar like thunder echoed through the many tunnels.

  “Aw Jeez,” Eddie said to no one in particular. “Not wind again.”

  A purple glow emanated from the black, flat stone, and energy seemed to flow from the mirror into Abraxas.

  “We must stop him, Eddie,” Marlowe yelled. He released another bolt of light, but the mirror merely redirected the beam and incorporated the blast.

  “How?” Eddie shielded his eyes as the dust of a hundred years was stirred up and turned into tiny projectiles by the fierce breeze.

  “I don’t know,” Marlowe confessed.

  “What about my son?” Eddie shouted.

  “I have the boy,” Trefoil yelled. He held Douglas in one arm, still unconscious, his staff in the other. “Join me, Eddie, or he dies.”

  “You bastard,” Eddie yelled. He took a running jump from his platform and with the wind at his back, he was propelled further than expected. As if planned, he landed right next to Trefoil.

  Without hesitating, Eddie dropped his staff, and drove a fist into Trefoil’s right eye.

  Surprised by this sudden physical assault, Trefoil released Douglas and staggered back. Eddie took his son, and carefully lowered him to the ground, then grabbed his fallen staff.