The Wizards of Central Park West_Ultimate Urban Fantasy

by Arjay Lewis

  “It is a wise enough precaution,” Bankrock discerned.

  Caleb looked to Drusilicus.

  “Agree to it, fool,” Drusilicus demanded.

  “I-I agree,” Caleb’s eyes fell to his feet, his face clouded by anger.

  “Very well,” Marlowe recited. “Then I command that this staff be cleaved unto thee, Caleb Heinz.”

  The group each passed a beam of light to Caleb’s staff. Silver gray light surrounded Caleb and his body glowed for a moment. It faded and Caleb tried to step forward on unsteady feet.

  Eddie drew close and gave him an arm to lean on. “I know how you feel. It knocks you for a loop.”

  Caleb nodded and gave his head a shake. “I’ll be all right. Man, what a rush.”

  “Dinner,” Cerise called from the back door.

  With the merest wave of their staffs, their clothing shifted back to modern, and the Five, along with the newest wizard in the coven, walked back into Eddie’s house in reverent silence.

  “I shall prepare a potion to clear the young man’s head,” Marlowe decided. “We need every fighter we have this night.”

  ∞∞∞

  In the van down the street from Eddie's house, Agent Phil Conners was on his cell phone.

  “Wilcox,” the voice barked over the speaker.

  “It’s Conners in the surveillance van at the Berman house.”

  “Have you seen him?”

  “Affirmative, sir, we did get a visual on Berman and his partner.”

  “What are they talking about?” Wilcox insisted, his voice raised in gleeful expectation.

  “That’s just it, sir, I don’t know.”

  “What!” Wilcox bellowed.

  “The craziest thing happened, a marching band walked down the street.”

  “What of it?” Wilcox was annoyed by this change of subject.

  “It was odd, sir,” he explained as sweat trickled down his receding hairline. “This band shows up and all of our equipment, I mean all of it, goes down. Nothing works. It took me ten minutes just to get my cell phone operational.”

  “What caused that?” Wilcox cursed, as if he wanted to add an expletive questioning Conners legitimacy at birth.

  The technician sitting next to Conners could hear the question even from where he sat. He turned to Conners and held up his hands to convey that he didn’t have a clue.

  “We don’t know, sir,” Conners admitted. “It could be on our end. My only theory is that Berman possesses very sophisticated jamming equipment.”

  There was a silence at the other end of the phone, then a brief exchange quietly in the background. Conners strained to make out the words.

  “Conners!” Wilcox spoke so loud it forced Conners to pull the phone from his ear. “Have you spotted five additional people? Four men and a woman at Berman’s house?”

  “Sir, we couldn’t even video the marching band.”

  “Spies, that must be it!” Wilcox proclaimed. “Berman is part of a terrorist sleeper cell. Now you listen to me, Conners—”

  “Yes, sir,” Conners responded.

  “You keep an eye on that house, and do whatever it takes to make sure no one goes in or out until I get there. Darkness is falling. I’ll send a crew of men to your location. They should arrive within twenty minutes.”

  “Yes, sir!” Conners said and closed his phone. He looked over at the technician, who still struggled with the computer monitor.

  “What’s up?” the technician picked up on Conners’ excitement.

  “It’s going to hit the fan tonight!”

  Fifty-Four

  The dining room table was crammed with more people than it could seat comfortably. The two boys were relegated to eat at the breakfast table, but they did it with few complaints.

  Eddie, however, was happy to see that Douglas didn’t seem to carry any trauma from his kidnapping and subsequent rescue. In fact, as Marlowe pointed out, the entire incident seemed to fade from Douglas’ memory like a bad dream.

  Which was fine. Eddie could remember enough for both of them.

  Dinner was a smashing success, except for Bankrock, who apparently spent too much time among wizards. He kept giving vocal commands to the dishes, which of course, the dishes ignored. Marlowe corrected him politely, and procured what he requested.

  Caleb was polite but seemed lost in a stupor. He ate without speaking, a dreamy look on his face.

  Drusilicus, for all his pomposity toward Eddie, charmed the women, complimented the cooking and the loveliness of the table setting.

  Eddie shook his head. The wizards were a puzzle. They seemed so wise, and yet so foolish about everyday things. And Drusilicus was nice to everyone except Eddie and Luis.

  There was more than enough food, and even Luis ate his fill. As Eddie began to collect the dishes, Eleanor took them from him.

  “Don’t bother, dearie,” she said, “let me. I’m so grateful to be able to get around.”

  “Just don’t expect this regularly,” Cerise chided good-naturedly as she collected dishes. “You stay with your friends, and we’ll clear the table.”

  Eddie shrugged and sat back down.

  “Should we synchronize our watches?” Luis coaxed.

  “It’s eight-fifty-one,” Marlowe said with his eyes partly closed.

  “Hey, that’s right,” Luis looked at his wrist. “You didn’t even look at a watch.”

  “We have no need for such things,” Bankrock dismissed.

  “We feel the rhythms of the world around us,” Eugenia added, sweetly.

  “Now, if we can only figure out where to go,” Eddie challenged.

  “I may have an idea, Eddie.” Marlowe tugged at this beard. “Tell them about your confrontation with Trefoil.”

  “If you think it will help,” Eddie recalled. “Trefoil took me back in memory to a place called Seneca Village. It was destroyed in order to build Central Park. The police moved in and forced out the residents, even killed a woman.”

  “Man,” Luis frowned. “When did that happen?”

  “Over a hundred-and-fifty years ago,” Eddie said. “The woman had the Medallion of Abracadabra.”

  “It was thought to be last seen in the West Indies,” Marlowe disclosed. “Someone must have brought it to New York.”

  “Yeah,” Eddie concurred, “and it was lost again when the police killed that woman.”

  “A blood sacrifice that undoubtedly increased the talisman’s power,” Drusilicus theorized.

  The others sat around the table and nodded, even Caleb, although he still looked out of it.

  “It lay in the park until Alex and Caleb uncovered it.” Marlowe pulled the talisman of Greywacke’s symbol that Caleb had created out of his pocket. He looked down at the intricate workmanship, as if he received wisdom from it. “I am now certain of one thing—the final battle must take place in Central Park.”

  “How do you know that?” Bankrock sniffed.

  “Abraxas was released in the park,” Marlowe continued, “and the other talismans were acquired there. Even the Smoking Mirror was stolen from the only museum in the park.”

  “We’ve gone over this,” Bankrock stressed, exasperated. “It’s a place of power, and the monster is using that power. We need a plan.”

  The others stared at him.

  “Well, you need a plan,” Bankrock quickly corrected.

  Eugenia cleared her throat. “So, could he be gaining additional power from something within Central Park?”

  “The fifth talisman?” Eddie ventured.

  “We don’t know what it is!” Drusilicus admonished.

  “Abraxas does,” Marlowe contemplated as he held the Greywacke talisman and rubbed it between his fingers. “If we can locate it before midnight, we can put a barrier around it, foil his plan.”

  “What of the warlock and the Smoking Mirror?” Ahbay said. “Won’t it merely absorb our powers?”

  Murmurs of assent went up and down the table.

  “Not if w
e can get there before them,” Marlowe suggested. ”Bankrock, tell me again what you saw in your vision.”

  Bankrock shrugged. “A huge room with a giant metal statue.”

  Marlowe thought for a moment, as he stroked the talisman. “To break the seventh seal with a human sacrifice, it would require a shrine.”

  “Yes,” Drusilicus exclaimed. “That makes sense.”

  “Problem is, there’s no shrine in Central Park,” Eddie elaborated.

  “It might not be in this dimension,” Drusilicus responded.

  “He’s right,” Bankrock agreed. “There are many portals in the park. The arches all contain doorways to their namesakes’ residences.”

  “Wait, what?” Eddie queried. “You’re telling me wizards live in those arches?”

  “Correct.” Bankrock sat up straighter. “I myself reside in a space in an alternate dimension that I can access at my bridge.”

  “Who says you can’t find a place with a view of the park?” Luis quipped.

  “If there were a shrine,” Ahbay insisted, “it would need to be marked.”

  Eugenia nodded. “Yes, so it could be located when needed.”

  Marlowe gave a grunt. “My impression would be to look for an ancient object.”

  “True!” Eugenia pronounced. “The rites of the Molech are antediluvian, to say the least.”

  “Can you give us more to go on?” Eddie said, then turned to Luis. “What’s the oldest place in the park?”

  “I know that.” Luis was pleased he could actually add to the conversation. “Blockhouse Number One.”

  “Say, what?” Eddie frowned.

  “We’ve driven by it.” Luis became more animated. “You can see it from the East Drive in the winter. It’s that old stone fort on the hill up near 110th Street, built for the war of 1812. It’s abandoned, all sealed up.”

  “I’ve been there,” Caleb said. “Pagans do weird stuff up there on Halloween.”

  The others looked at him in surprise. These were the first words he had spoken since receiving his staff.

  Eddie turned to Marlowe. “What do you think?”

  Marlowe rubbed the talisman faster. “It’s possible. A location shunned by the public. There could easily be a portal.”

  “A wizard would not be stopped by a sealed doorway,” Ahbay noted.

  “Nor a demon,” Eugenia added.

  Bankrock reached into his binder to pull out a brown parchment. “I don’t know if that is one of the listed portals on my official Magickal Map of Central Park.”

  With one gesture he flicked it open. It was almost three feet long and one foot wide, and expertly hand-drawn.

  “Wow,” Eddie was impressed. “That almost looks like the original plans for the park that Vaux and Olmstead came up with.”

  “It can’t be,” Luis noted. “That’s on display at the conservatory under glass.”

  “It is an official map Greywacke made up.” Bankrock moved the paper about in an attempt to locate the site. “I found it while doing the research Marlowe asked for.”

  “Hey look,” Eddie pointed. “It lists the entrance to the catacombs Marlowe and I were in yesterday.”

  “There are hundreds of portals.” Bankrock ran his finger down the page. “Many are marked, but several stand unnamed.”

  “Marlowe,” Drusilicus considered. “I don’t see how this blockhouse would be powerful enough.”

  “Drusilicus does have a point,” Eugenia piped up. “If it is a physical location, it would have to be a site where worship once took place.”

  Ahbay nodded, “Yes, to make an energetic bond.”

  Marlowe considered this for a moment. “Interesting, a site where worship took place.”

  “Is there a church in the park?” Luis said, as he tried to follow the line of the conversation. “I mean, I’ve seen weddings there plenty of times.”

  “Are you thinking Conservatory Garden?” Bankrock adjusted his glasses as he peered at the map. “Hm. I see two portals in that location.”

  “That is our problem, my friends,” Marlowe placed the medallion down onto the table. “We have been thinking in a linear way, based upon our current times.”

  Eddie grinned. “You want to think outside the box.”

  “Exactly. Do not look where worship occurs today. We seek a place where worship occurred in the time of the Molech.”

  Caleb, whose eyes were focused on the medallion, suddenly murmured, “Cleopatra’s Needle.”

  “What?” Eddie looked at the boy.

  “Cleopatra’s Needle?” Eugenia repeated in amazement.

  “Hey, I know that!” Luis said. “It’s one of those stone things, shaped like the Washington Monument, a…whatchamacallit.”

  “An obelisk,” Marlowe’s eyes took on a faraway look rather like Caleb’s.

  Luis smiled, “Yeah, that’s it.”

  Eddie looked from person to person, feeling a dread permeate the room. “But, that’s just a reproduction, put there for show, right?”

  Bankrock turned his attention to the map.

  Drusilicus shook his head. “No. I was there when it was raised. As Marlowe said, it was the last task my master oversaw. That obelisk is one of a pair, carved to honor Pharaoh Thuthmosis the Third in the ancient Egyptian city of Lunu or Heliopolis. It once was part of the Temple of the Sun.”

  “Where worship and sacrifice—human sacrifice—took place,” Marlowe mused.

  “A talisman of great power, indeed,” Ahbay declared.

  “It was moved by Augusta Caesar to Alexandria in 12 BC,” Drusilicus went on. “Then, it was moved to New York in pieces, base as well as obelisk, and erected on its current site in 1881.”

  Marlowe nodded and slowly rose from his chair. “It makes much sense, my friends. Not only is it thirty-five hundred years old, but even the base it rests on was built over two thousand years ago.”

  “It lay next to the reservoir when it was erected,” Drusilicus said, “which is now the Great Lawn.”

  “In close proximity to Greywacke’s Arch,” Marlowe whispered.

  Drusilicus nodded grimly. “The place where my master passed his staff to me and then left this plane.”

  “He died?” Eddie asked.

  “Nay,” Drusilicus mused. “He merely disappeared.”

  “This is all speculation,” Bankrock raised his head and pointed. “Look, there is no interdimensional portal shown in that location on the map at all.”

  Marlowe bent close and studied the map. “You are mistaken, my friend. This map doesn’t have the obelisk on it at all.”

  All the wizards bent close and followed Marlowe’s finger. It was true, the spot where Cleopatra’s Needle sat was empty.

  “The portal is connected to the obelisk,” Marlowe marveled.

  “It is the only explanation that makes sense,” Ahbay capitulated.

  “So close to Greywacke’s Arch,” Eugenia shuddered.

  “Almost as if to keep watch over it,” Drusilicus observed.

  “Greywacke made the arrangements to have that stone pillar transported to the park,” Marlowe acknowledged. “He never spoke of any danger connected to it.”

  “That is surprising,” Ahbay noted. “One would think, being a prophet—”

  “Marlowe,” Eugenia pointed out, “such an ancient structure would require enormous power to bring forth its potency.”

  “Hold on,” Eddie raised his hand. “Are you thinking Abraxas stole the other talismans just to have enough juice to access this doorway?”

  Marlowe nodded. “To use them as a channel for supernatural powers, they do not have to be specifically good or evil. It will amplify either energy.”

  “By Zoroaster!” Drusilicus stood and pushed back his chair. “If we are right, then we must away to New York and—”

  “Whoa, Dru,” Eddie rose up as well. “We need a plan. After all, the obelisk might not be the right place.”

  “It is the right place,” Caleb stood up at his seat.
“I can see it.”

  Drusilicus turned to his apprentice. “You have been a wizard for barely an hour. Do not try our patience.”

  “No wait,” Marlowe said. “When I attempted to reach out to the medallion the boy made, I couldn’t read anything. But he seems to—”

  “Master,” Caleb’s face was almost beatific, “I made the talisman because I received a vision!”

  Luis’ cell phone rang shrilly, and Luis stood, pulled it from his pocket and began to speak. “Vasquez… Hola, Maria, calm down, I don’ understand what you’re sayin’…”

  Luis quickly left the room, talking as he went.

  “Very well,” Drusilicus returned to his chair. “We are the Five, whole, complete and unified! We surround the obelisk and seal it from the Great Evil. Then we draw him to us and push him from this world.”

  “I like your enthusiasm, Dru,” Eddie said, “but so far, we’ve been getting our asses whipped—”

  “Eddie,” Luis came from the other room, “you gotta come out here.”

  “‘Scuse me,” Eddie rushed into the next room. “What’s wrong?”

  Luis stood and looked out the window through the drapes, still on the phone. “Maria, you have to calm down, you’re hysterical, baby. Calm down.” He placed the phone against his chest. “Look here, Eddie.”

  Eddie hurried to the window and looked out. In the dim streetlights, Eddie could see a second power company van join the first. He also saw several other black vans pull up as well. The windows of each vehicle were so opaque he couldn’t even see through the windshield.

  “What are they doing?” Eddie wondered. “Getting ready for a raid?”

  “Eddie,” Luis said, “if these guys work for Wilcox, and they are planning a raid, who do you think they have in mind?”

  The realization hit Eddie like a thunderbolt. “Us.”

  “We gotta go,” Luis returned the phone to his ear. “Maria, we got a problem here…slow down, tell me what’s wrong…”

  Eddie returned to the dining room. The wizards were in deep discussion as they argued different protective spells.

  “We have to get out of here,” Eddie told them. “The FBI is about to raid us.”