The Wizards of Central Park West_Ultimate Urban Fantasy

by Arjay Lewis

  “Eddie, look!” Marlowe screamed over the din.

  There was another figure at the edge of the tunnel. It was someone dressed in the same robes as Trefoil, the fabric flapping madly in the wind, but the hood covered the face.

  “Now who the hell is that?” Eddie wondered aloud.

  The mysterious figure pointed at Trefoil and croaked out some words that Eddie couldn’t hear in the fierce roar of the air. But the voice was familiar. He knew it from his own house the previous night.

  The purple energy surrounded Abraxas, and he lowered the mirror, which no longer glowed. The demon seemed to have grown in stature. He looked down on Trefoil as the wind dissipated.

  “It seems you’ve outlasted your usefulness,” Abraxas stated simply.

  “What?” Trefoil looked from the demon to the figure at the door. He reached into his cloak and extracted a brown piece of parchment. “You are bound to me, demon, by the cartouche on this paper drawn in blood.”

  “That’s not blood, it’s marker,” Abraxas corrected with almost a kindly look in his eye, as if he’d just told a child that Santa Claus didn’t exist.

  Trefoil gasped, and opened the paper.

  Even from the distance Eddie stood, he recognized the symbol on the vellum. It was like the one he’d found in the talisman book and shown to Caleb. Trefoil had made it.

  Someone had switched it with a counterfeit.

  Trefoil stood paralyzed with shock. “But, our plans—”

  “Ah yes, about that,” Abraxas shrugged. “Thanks for the help, no hard feelings.”

  The huge brute held out one of his enormous hands, and purple light danced over the claws at the end of his fingers. With surprising speed, he grabbed Trefoil’s head in one hand, his body in the other, and with a quick twist, snapped his neck with a resounding “Crack.”

  “Murder! Villainy!” Marlowe yelled and rushed forward, his staff raised.

  Abraxas turned to face Marlowe, as the cloaked figure bridged the gap between them.

  “Let me finish them,” Abraxas hissed, and flexed his muscles to prepare for battle. He raised the mirror as Marlowe threw a powerful beam of light. It vanished into the reflective surface.

  “Nay,” the voice croaked. “We shall kill them all when the time is right.”

  “I want them dead now. I have enough power to do it.”

  “I said stay thy hand.”

  “Surrender, warlock,” Marlowe shouted as he raised his staff aloft.

  “Your time is almost up, old fool,” the cloaked warlock said, as the demon held up the mirror. There was a flash of purple light, and they were gone. They had disappeared— teleported—together.

  Eddie sat down next to his son, relieved that he appeared unharmed. He touched his head.

  Douglas’ eyelids fluttered, then opened.

  “Hey, Dad,” Douglas mumbled. “Did I oversleep?”

  Eddie smiled. “I always said you could sleep through the end of the world.”

  Marlowe was breathing hard as he looked down at the two Berman men. “That may occur soon enough.”

  Fifty-One

  The walk back through the tunnels was darker and more difficult than their descent. First of all, it was all up hill, then as they reached the round room where the tunnel split into three, they couldn’t decide which way they’d come.

  “I am sure it was the left tunnel,” Eddie pointed.

  “Nay, it was the one next to it,” Marlowe concluded.

  Douglas spoke up. “Dad, why you dressed like that?”

  “It’s, ‘Why ARE you dressed like that?’ Douglas,” Eddie corrected.

  “It’s Doug,” was his response. “So how come?”

  “Not right now.” Eddie looked up each tunnel to see if there was anything familiar. Each one appeared exactly the same.

  “When?” Douglas asked.

  “When what?”

  “When you gonna tell me?”

  “Later,” Eddie turned to Marlowe. “Great! Now I’m not sure which tunnel got us here!”

  “Ah, of course,” Marlowe handed Eddie Trefoil’s staff. “Carry the Staff of Water.”

  “Why did we bring this?”

  “We must give it to one worthy to bear it.” Marlowe went through the pockets of his robe.

  “Didn’t work with Trefoil.” Eddie looked back down the tunnel they just ascended. “Was it a good idea to just leave his body there?”

  “We could have brought him, Eddie, but I thought the last thing you needed was another unsolvable homicide.”

  Eddie nodded. “Good point. What’s your plan?”

  Marlowe pulled a folded cloth from his pocket “I’d forgotten I brought the Hat of Remembrance.”

  “Is that an oxymoron? I forgot I had a memory?”

  Marlowe gave Eddie a dirty look, then unfolded the battered conical hat and placed it on his head. His eyes grew brighter.

  “Of course!” Marlowe said, as if it were obvious. “It’s the tunnel on the left.”

  “Didn’t I say that?” Eddie glanced at the two staffs in his hand. “Am I supposed to carry both of these?”

  “Put your own staff away, Eddie,” Marlowe retorted, “and come along!”

  With that, Marlowe jauntily started up the tunnel.

  Douglas said, “Snap! He can walk fast for an old guy.”

  “Yeah,” Eddie added wearily. “We’d better catch up.”

  Eddie waved his staff and his clothes shifted back to his suit, and then the tall walking stick was returned to his pocket, which left him only Trefoil’s staff.

  “Dang!” Douglas was impressed. “Dad, tell me how you did that.”

  “Later.” They began to walk.

  “That wasn’t in any of my magic books,” muttered Douglas.

  They climbed for what felt like hours, and Eddie thought they were hopelessly lost in the underground catacombs. But Marlowe without hesitation knew where to go as they reached each turn.

  “Are we there yet?” Doug whined. “I’m getting tired.”

  “Just a little further, son.”

  “Did you rescue me, Dad?”

  Marlowe turned and faced them. “Your father risked his very life to save you, young man.”

  “Dang! Wait’ll I tell my friends. My dad rescued me, and I saw a dead guy.”

  Eddie stopped and knelt next to his son. “Douglas—”

  “Doug!”

  “Doug,” Eddie tried again. “You can’t tell anyone what you saw. Only me or your mother.”

  “But, Dad, I mean, you made your clothes change, and we were in that great big room, and the most amazing thing—”

  “I know, son,” Eddie put his free hand out in front of him as if he were trying to stop a train. “But, what’s the first rule of magic?”

  Doug thought for a moment. “Never tell the secret.”

  “Right. So this is like when you do a trick. It’s a secret.”

  Doug frowned and thought about this. “Dang!” was all he could utter.

  “Eddie,” Marlowe reported, “we are almost there.”

  “Come on, Doug.” Eddie walked up with Trefoil’s staff to where Marlowe examined a wall. “So, Marlowe, they just disappeared—poof! How come we have to walk all this way?”

  “Teleportation is possible, but to move three people would drain me for hours. The smoking mirror stole another portion of my power. The demon and that other warlock are using that stored energy, as well as the energy from the other talismans.”

  “I was surprised by the other warlock. I was sure Trefoil was our perp,” Eddie said.

  Marlowe’s mouth became a tight line. “Indeed. Someone who knew Trefoil, yet thought nothing of dispatching him.”

  “We’re right back at square one,” Eddie sighed.

  “What are you two talking about?” Doug questioned.

  “Later,” Eddie replied.

  Marlowe stepped back from the wall, removed his conical hat and returned it to the inner pocket of his cloak
.

  “Here we are,” Marlowe waved his staff. There was a grating sound as rock moved. A part of the wall shifted and sunlight poured into the dark tunnel.

  “Quickly,” Marlowe warned, “before we draw attention.”

  Eddie vaulted the short wall and onto the granite step. He reached the ground, then turned and helped Doug.

  Eddie looked at the staff in his hand. It had become an old broomstick. As Marlowe stepped through the portal, he was dressed in a suit and carrying his cane. He reached the ground, gave a small gesture with the walking stick, and with a rumble their entranceway was gone.

  They stood in the arcade of Bethesda Terrace. People passed, going up and down the stone stairway, unaware that three people had just walked out of a solid wall.

  Doug looked at the architecture all around him. “Where are we, a museum?”

  “Central Park, son,” Eddie said.

  “Is this where you work, Dad?”

  “I spend most of the time at the precinct,” Eddie turned to Marlowe. “Where to?”

  “The safest place would be my townhouse,” Marlowe said.

  “I have to get my son back home. Why don’t you call for reinforcements to meet there?”

  “Reinforcements?”

  “What’s left of the Five,” Eddie said.

  “Is this wise? Your house was attacked last night. The townhouse would be safer.”

  “No, we have to get Doug home. But, a funny thing…” Eddie peered up at the tile ceiling.

  “What?” Marlowe quizzed.

  “Every time we have a confrontation with this warlock there is always wind flying around. Who has the Staff of Air?”

  “Eugenia,” Marlowe responded. “You’re not suggesting that she is that warlock?”

  “I don’t know. That raspy voice was meant to disguise something. It could be a woman.”

  “We gonna stay it this old place all day?” Doug pointed at the sunlit terrace. “I wanna see the fountain.”

  “Yeah, let’s go.” They walked out into the terrace, which had begun to empty out. Eddie looked at the sun and saw that it sank toward the horizon.

  “How long were we…wherever we were?” Eddie pondered.

  “Time is relative, Eddie,” Marlowe stressed. “Let us say, it was longer out here than it was in there.”

  “That’s as clear as mud.”

  Doug ran to the huge fountain and put his hand in the water.

  “So, rescuing Douglas removes the sacrifice,” Eddie put forth. “That’s got to put a monkey wrench in their plan.”

  “I’m not sure,” Marlowe shook his head. “I was barely conscious, but Trefoil said he wasn’t planning to hurt your son.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I fear that he intended to select another sacrifice.”

  Eddie watched Douglas at the fountain somberly. “And it has to be someone under the age of thirteen.”

  “Yes.”

  Douglas returned to the two men. “Dad, you got a coin?”

  “What for?” Eddie reached into his pocket to locate loose change.

  “To make a wish,” Doug said and put his hand out. “I only got the half-dollar I use for magic.”

  “Your son does magic?” Marlowe lifted an eyebrow. “Eddie, what have you been teaching him?”

  “Tricks, Marlowe,” Eddie reassured. “And Doug, it’s, ‘I only have a half-dollar.’”

  “Not if you give me more. Come on, Dad, I wanna make a wish.”

  “You don’t believe in that, do you?” Eddie scoffed.

  “No, no, encourage the boy,” Marlowe recommended. “In fact, you should make a wish as well.”

  “My wish would be that the three of us be home,” Eddie handed Doug a dime, while he took a quarter into his own hand.

  Meanwhile, on Navy Hill, a man in jogging clothes lowered his binoculars and spoke into a tiny microphone connected to a surreptitious walkie-talkie.

  “I have the subjects in view,” Sam told his partner. “They just walked out of the arcade and are standing at the fountain. They have a child with them. African-American, about ten years old.”

  “Keep an eye on them,” Wilcox’s voice said into the man’s earpiece. “I’m on the move.”

  It had been a most frustrating afternoon for Wilcox. After he tracked Eddie to Bethesda Terrace and the sudden disappearance of his quarry, he called in Sam to stake out the area.

  Sam had searched the terrace and didn’t locate Eddie or the odd old man. Now they showed up and had a child in tow. Where did the kid come from?

  Meanwhile, at the fountain, Doug closed his eyes and threw the dime into the fountain.

  “What did you wish for?” Eddie asked.

  “Can’t tell, or it won’t come true.”

  “Why don’t you try, Eddie?” Marlowe smiled.

  Eddie shrugged and raised his arm to toss the quarter.

  “No, Dad,” Doug protested. “You got to do it right. Close your eyes and wish, then throw it in with your eyes closed.”

  Eddie looked at Marlowe, who nodded. “The young man is correct.”

  Eddie closed his eyes, wished they were home, and threw the quarter in the direction of the fountain.

  The silver disk flew end over end. As it touched the surface of the water, the three men shimmered as if rising heat distorted the air, and were gone.

  “What the—” Sam said on Navy Hill and stood up. He lowered his binoculars and glanced about. He had taken his eyes off the trio momentarily to observe the rear end of a bikini-clad young lady. When he shifted back, they were nowhere to be seen.

  Wilcox arrived at the upper terrace, slowed to a casual walk, and looked down at the fountain. He spoke into his walkie-talkie.

  “Where are the subjects?”

  Befuddled, Sam answered, “I—I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t know?” Wilcox tried to locate his partner on the hill. He quickly spotted Sam in his jogging suit. He walked down the long set of stairs and up to Navy Hill to join him.

  “They were there one moment, and now, they’re gone, uh, sir,” Sam scanned the vicinity.

  “Did you keep your eyes on them?” Wilcox looked back at the fountain.

  “Yes sir, I mean, I rested my eyes, but only for a second. I have to tell you, it’s like they just…disappeared.”

  “All right,” Wilcox commanded, “that’s it. I’m going to call the bureau and get a team on the move.”

  “That’ll cause a lot of attention. Is that wise?” Sam shakily pulled out a cigarette.

  “Something strange is going on, and I want to know what it is.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Sam questioned.

  “I want you to watch that weird townhouse on Eighty-Fifth Street,” Wilcox ordered. “I’m going to put surveillance at Berman’s house.”

  “You’re talking about a lot of manpower.” Sam lit his cigarette.

  “I know, but I think Berman is a part of some kind of conspiracy. If I can prove it, it’ll mean advancement for both of us, Sam.”

  Sam sucked on the white tube and exhaled smoke. “And you get rid of Berman.”

  “I have to admit, him and his partner kicked out of the NYPD is an added incentive,” Wilcox nodded.

  The two men smiled.

  Fifty-Two

  “Dang!” Doug yelped.

  Eddie opened his eyes to find his own backyard in the place where the fountain stood a mere moment earlier. Eddie gave a small jump of surprise, and fought to keep his mouth from dropping open yet again.

  “Holy shit!” Eddie said.

  “Dad, Mom doesn’t like that talk,” Doug’s face scrunched up in annoyance at his father’s faux-pas.

  “You see, Eddie,” Marlowe smiled. “Much of what you call ‘superstition’ has a basis in fact.”

  Eddie looked at Marlowe as if he’d lost his mind.

  “Let me get this straight. Making a wish and dropping money in a fountain can—” Eddie stumbled
for the right words. ”Hey! Didn’t you say teleportation uses a lot of power? I don’t feel any weaker.”

  Marlowe nodded. “That’s because it wasn’t merely your power that made it work.”

  “Huh?” Eddie said.

  “Everything has energy, Eddie,” Marlowe opened his arms. “First, the power of the money—and you have to admit, money has no value except the power society gives it.”

  Eddie frowned. “Okay, but that doesn’t explain—”

  “Second, there is the energy of the fountain, which in the case of Bethesda Terrace was placed in a high-energy location, and then there is the third thing: flowing water. All life on this planet comes from water.”

  “So one little coin did all this?” Eddie pondered.

  “What made it work was that the elements were combined with the strongest force of all: belief. It is belief, will and intention that creates all things. Being a wizard is more than having magick in you. You have to be aware of the magick in everything, and use what you find.”

  “Douglas?” Cerise tentatively came out the back door. She broke into a run, and made a noise that combined both laughter and weeping, fell upon Doug, and clutched him in her arms.

  “Jeez, Mom,” Doug complained, “I was only gone a little while.”

  Yet he found his mother’s hug comforting after those dark tunnels and strange occurrences. There was a magic in this, and it was better than any of the tricks he found in his books.

  Eddie walked over, fell to one knee, and held his wife and son.

  “You did it,” tears spilled down Cerise’s face. “You brought back my baby.”

  “We walked through these big tunnels,” Doug gushed, “and I saw a dead guy!”

  “Come in the house,” Cerise smiled through her wet eyes. “Are you hungry?”

  “I guess,” Doug murmured.

  She took her son’s arm, and Cerise led the boy in the back door, out of the fading sunlight.

  Eddie looked at the broom handle in his hand and turned to Marlowe. “What do we do with this?”

  “Find one who can carry it into battle,” Marlowe reached into several pockets, and finally extracted a mirror. “Drusilicus.”

  The glass twinkled, then cleared and Drusilicus’ face appeared in the glass.