“Hmm.” She played with her hair and constantly emitted an aura of enchantment. Alayna had long, thick braids that alternated from platinum blond to obsidian black and hung to her midsection. The hairdo had seemed strange at first, but I’d grown used to it by now.
I pushed my lips together and nodded. “That’s what I said. Now it could be any hooligan trying to stir up some dark powers or it could be a powerful demon. Either way, something crazy is going on in Pittsburgh. Not to worry my lady, I will take care of the problem.”
She frowned. “And we were doing so well for so long. I knew it wouldn’t last. That’s why I needed you to learn quickly. What do you plan to do?”
I realized I only had one lead. “We didn’t get to question Ruth Westerhouse, so I’d like to do that. Later tonight, I’m going to go by her house and pick up that box she dragged out back if it’s still there. I’m not going to let the garbage men beat me to it, that’s for sure.” Maybe I had two leads.
“Be careful. You never know how much dark energy could be inside that thing. Exercise caution when opening it. If you are going to open it, that is.”
I hadn’t thought about that. I was just going to rip it open like a wrapped present. Maybe that’s why Ruth Westerhouse had been duct taping it shut? “It’s not even close to a full moon. Who can shift without full lunar power?”
She pondered the question for a moment. “Only higher-up demons from the Red Cavern. You know, the demi-devils or an extremely powerful Chieftain. Let’s see. Spring-Heeled Jack, the Jersey Devil, Vlad Dracul of Wallachia, the Six Bend Serpent, Sabretooth Gilda and Hot Iron Indigo. That’s just a few off the top of my head that specialize in shifting. At least, to the best of our knowledge.”
It was much too early to peg one of the Chieftains of the Order of the Red Cavern as a prime suspect, but way too early to rule them out. I wanted some action in Pittsburgh, but if it were one of the big dogs of dark magic, I would be rendered useless.
Several years ago, I had defeated the two-hundred-year-old warlock named George by pure luck, recklessly using magic. I had learned over the past two years that I couldn’t do that again. I had to play by the rules now. And the book of rules on magic was almost as long as the compendium on magic itself.
One thing I had learned, wizards had to read. A lot. See that splendiferous vocabulary I’ve picked up.
I waited impatiently for the email from Gretchen and for a chance to investigate the dark box at Ruth Westerhouse’s place as my mind churned with fractions of puzzle pieces, not even the entire pieces. Sometimes, a wizard must construct the pieces before he or she can assemble the puzzle.
Sounds daunting, but on the flip side, if one created the best pieces, manipulating them to his or her advantage, building the puzzle became simple.
We went inside my two-bedroom apartment, both on the second floor with a bathroom and a small attic. We walked into the modest living room, brown couch against one wall, matching loveseat against another. The rest of the room consisted of a rectangular coffee table, bookshelves and books. Some were in piles on the hardwood floor, but I had a system, don’t you worry.
Alayna held her nose, although the smell wasn’t that bad. Okay, it wasn’t that great either, but I hadn’t figured out what was causing that odor from the basement. Because of the harsh stench, I used the stone subterranean area as a short-term storage facility. Mostly for books. I had a lot of books.
Alayna brushed off the couch and sat down, her purple dress sparkling in the strained sunlight begging for permission to pass through my black shades. I obliged it and cracked the blinds a bit.
The woman who never worried had a concerned expression on her face.
I asked, “Is everything all right or is this just the Lancelot thing again where you stare at me and make me nervous? By the way, I saw a movie a week ago and he had black hair and brown eyes.”
Alayna had told me that she had met Lancelot from King Arthur’s court during her travels. “I’m sorry that you look like him, but you do. Most books and movies have gotten it totally wrong. It’s not just the blond hair and blue eyes, but the strong chin and tight jawline. And then you throw in the broad shoulders and it’s a perfect match. However, that wasn’t what I was doing.”
What could it be? Nothing ever got her down. I said, “I don’t like seeing you sad. I know what will cheer you up. Beatles music. We can even sing a song or two,” I offered.
She shook her head, and her long braids slithered back and forth on her shoulders. “Maybe later.”
I thought about what she really liked. “I know. You can tell me about another crazy adventure from your favorite wizard in St. Louis. You know, the one you have a big crush on.”
“I don’t have a big crush on him, although he is rather striking. Powerful and gallant, sure. Quite smooth as well.” Her lips started to curl up and stopped just short of a smile. Her face and eyes always lit up when she talked about him, but not so much today. She loved to tell me about his wild times and I enjoyed hearing them. Even though some of his outrageous missions seemed impossible, and I was extremely jealous of his financial situation, the man always came out on top.
The wizards from St. Louis and Chicago were legendary. They had already attained my goals. They were Hall of Famers, where I was just a rookie entering the professional ranks. I would have been the number one pick if there was a wizard draft, but I had no accolades under my belt. I needed to prove myself in the field.
I’d even been hearing a lot of stories about an odd couple/dynamic duo in New York City. I wanted people to start telling stories about me, but first I needed to create those legendary stories. I was inclined to call them tales, but I know they are true.
The main reason I wanted to achieve this status was because it would mean that I’d saved countless numbers of lives in the process. It would mean that I had represented my mother well.
I gave up with the guessing game. “What’s wrong?”
She wrung her tiny hands together. “We have a problem.”
Chapter 8
I WAS LATE ON RENT again. She had every right to tear into me. I tried for a preemptive strike to gain sympathy. “Like you and me? I’ll get the money from this work in less than a week. I’ll be able to pay you easier if they would just give me more jobs. I’m willing to work.”
I didn’t think she would ever follow through on the threats. Sure, I was late before. Okay, I was late most of the time, but I always paid. Always.
“It’s not that.” She shook her head and closed her eyes.
I exhaled audibly, chest shaking, relieved.
She took a deep breath and continued, “We have a problem in the Deep Burrow. Or more specifically, Clara Spiritus. Mabon has disappeared.”
“What? How?” I asked in shock.
“Obviously nobody knows. One report...” A look of great disgust came over her face and she buried her forehead in her palm. “One report—saw him entering the Red Cavern.”
I defended my friend. “No. He wouldn’t do that. By himself or was he being dragged in there? Why would he do that?”
She threw her hands up dramatically. “The only reasoning the Gods have come up with is that he was offered more power in the Red Cavern.”
That didn’t make sense. “How can he get more power? He’s already a God.”
“A God among many, and he possibly views himself at the bottom of that totem. There are only thirteen devils that we know of. The only line of thinking I can even begin to understand is that he saw more power in being a devil. I really don’t know. It’s all too confusing right now.”
I’d never seen Alayna like this. The one-thousand-one-year-old woman, who would smack me for not saying she was nine-hundred-ninety-nine, was normally a happy-go-lucky faerie. She had always been in complete control, especially when I was frazzled.
Red splotches rose to the surface of her ivory skin in random areas and her glistening bloodshot eyes looked up at me.
I moved c
loser and hugged her. More tears went into the collection on the front of my hoodie. The news rocked me, too.
Mabon had accepted me more than anyone else in Clara Spiritus, the home of the Celtic Gods. That’s not to say I wasn’t accepted by the rest of the Gods, but the Young Son had gone out of his way to be nice and joke around with me. He was also a member of the Golden Chamber, the panel of Gods that made all the final decisions of judgment.
Mabon had a thorough and advanced knowledge of shifting. He could easily do it without a full moon. I started to get a rotten, twisting pain in my belly telling me that this was a powerful demon or rogue god, or a rogue god turned devil. Even worse. I didn’t like where this train was headed.
“I got the rest of the stuff you asked for to complete the potion for invisibility,” I hinted.
“You want to make the magic mist today?”
“We don’t have to, but it might take your mind off the other problems right now. If demons are crashing the city, we need all the artillery we can muster.”
“I suppose that may be true, but I can’t guarantee any success from the state I am in right now. If you want to heat up the cauldron, I need to grab a few things from the kitchen and I’ll meet you up there.”
I went upstairs, which consisted of two bedrooms and a small bathroom. I closed the door to my bedroom so Alayna wouldn’t make fun of me for the tiny mess and went into the other room. I used this one for experiments and had blankets covering all the windows.
I lit the portable burner underneath the cauldron that hung from a tripod with a triskele amulet attached at the apex. The black cast iron cooking device could hold about a gallon, but most of my tests involved much less volume than that. Alayna entered the room with an armful of supplies that she dumped on the middle of the table, next to the cauldron.
She dimmed the lights until they were almost out, lit a few ceremonial candles, and laid out the ingredients for the magic mist. She handed me a mortar and pestle with acorns in it from the Tree of Life. I mashed the acorns around with the stone pestle as Alayna took the caps off the liquids.
She started with the vodka, which sizzled as it hit the red-hot cauldron and released a caramelized alcohol aroma. She added still water and tonic water next. Twenty seconds later, she threw in some plastic wrap and broken glass. I picked up the wooden spoon and gently stirred the mixture as Alayna tossed in some Granny Smith apple slices, the crushed acorns from the mortar and pestle, and some freshwater salmon oil.
The pleasing scent took a fishy turn as I continued to stir the cauldron. Alayna reached inside her bra and pulled out the secret ingredient. She placed three pieces of mistletoe from the Tree of Life that had been cut away with the silver serrated knife on the seventh day of the new moon next to the cauldron.
I adjusted my hemp necklace made from Sacred Pages (the comprehensive druidic book on magic) that always reminded me of my oath. I grabbed the silver triskele charm that the druidic craftsmen had helped me make and pulled it out of my hoodie. I thumbed the mother-of-pearl set in the center of the triskele and prepared to make the mist.
I picked up the piece of coarse rope on the table and tied a loose knot in it. We each grabbed one end of the rope and Alayna positioned her free hand near the mistletoe. She tossed in the mistletoe as we chanted in unison,
“Once, twice, and thrice is always nice,
See me now, then see me not,
In the cold or in the hot,
A sleight of shape to disappear,
And make my tint so crystal clear,
Respect I keep for the Sacred Pages,
Along with witches, wizards, and all the mages.”
We repeated the words six more times while pulling the knot tighter as we went along. We finished and I turned off the blue flames to let the mixture sit for seven minutes.
After the short resting period, I stirred the liquid around and used a punchbowl spoon to scoop it into a strainer over a mason jar.
The potion was still hot, but I was very impatient as I carefully poured it into the tiny spray bottle. I screwed the sprayer on tight and made the lights brighter.
I smiled at Alayna, although I was also hurting on the inside. “Ready?”
She tried to match my fake enthusiasm with a wink and a nod, but her reddened eyes indicated she was still perturbed about Mabon’s disappearance. I doubted this magic mist would work because of her mental state.
I sprayed some on my left forearm and immediately pulled it back from the hot splash. I stared at my arms and waited for the mist to take effect. After about thirty seconds, I could still see myself.
“I guess it was worth a try,” I mentioned to Alayna.
“It’s working. I can’t see you.”
I looked down at my arms and the rest of my body. “I can still see myself.”
“That is good. You can control your body much better when you can see it and others can’t.”
About two minutes went by and Alayna said, “I’m starting to see bits and pieces of you again. It’s rather freaky actually.”
I was stunned that the magic mist had worked. My downtrodden mother figure decided to go back to the Deep Burrow, leaving me to clean up the mess. I strained and bottled up the magic mist with a giant smile on my face. Mabon’s news and today’s events saddened me, but this had been the most successful experiment I’d ever pulled off.
I didn’t know when or where I would need this, but the ability to become invisible seemed like a great advantage to have in a fight. I should take it with me tonight when I go after the magic box.
Chapter 9
LATER THAT EVENING, I sat in the Cancer Support group, but my mind could only focus on one matter. Finding that box behind Ruth Westerhouse’s dwelling. There were two meetings every day from seven to nine o’clock. I tried to attend as many as I could, but wizards keep a pretty crazy schedule. Actually, we just lose track of time due to deep thought.
When I get wrapped up in a book, forget about it. And sometimes potions and elixirs can take longer than expected. You can’t rush magic, at least, you can’t rush learning it. It’s a long and arduous race and I had just taken my first few steps on the track.
The meeting ended and an Uber driver picked me up. I hopped in the Ford Focus with a dented passenger door with slight apprehension. I gave him the address from the backseat and he nodded for an excruciating amount of time before simply saying, “Okay.”
I had him park down the street from Ruth Westerhouse. A few lights in the house were on, but not enough to scare me away. The driver turned around and handed me the Tab Pad. $31.11. And Alayna wondered why I hadn’t been able to pay the rent.
The driver peeled out, making me realize the decision to have him park down the street was a wise one. I checked the house again. The same lights were still on. Good sign. Most neighbors had their garbage out on the curb.
My phone beeped in my pocket indicating that it was about to run out of power. Great.
Ruth Westerhouse hadn’t taken the garbage out. She knew something, but I wasn’t sure I could trust her answers. I couldn’t worry about that right now though. I had to focus on the box out back of her house. I walked up and down the street a few times, scoping out the scene and trying to remain nonchalant.
I crept up the side of the driveway, channeling my inner ninja so I could move in silence. I made it into her well-kept backyard and peered around for the box. Nothing. Her back yard was fenced off with woods behind it and I noticed a blue glow in the distance.
I climbed over the fence. I didn’t want to risk opening a creaky gate. However, I proceeded to land on a fallen branch, creating a harsh breaking sound.
Smooth.
My eyes darted back to the house. I hoped nobody was home or they hadn’t heard the snapping crunch.
The lights remained the same. I turned and headed down the narrow dirt path into the woods. It didn’t take me long to get to the smoldering fire. How hadn’t I smelled or felt the energy from a fire? Imp
ossible.
I hovered over it, feeling the heat, but still no smell whatsoever. Whoever had started his fire was well versed in magic and it sent a chill down my spine. I kicked the partially burnt box off the embers and used some dirt to put out the fire. I assessed the damage and saw that the experienced firestarter had done a sloppy job with the box. The dark magic case had only been set on the edge of the small fire.
My phone beeped again, scaring me.
As I brought my magic to the surface, a bird squawked in the distance.
I hoped I could salvage the contents of the box although I didn’t even want to touch it. The Dank Artistry emblem had gone from black to bright red. A strange aura of immense power was seeping through the duct-taped cracks.
I heard the crunch of some brush under a boot, or a hoof. Impossible. Nobody could sneak up on me. Could they?
I caught a dull streak out of my right peripheral as a long, leathery tail wrapped around my head, blinding me. It kept winding around, building the pressure on my skull. Just before my orbital bones shattered, the tail uncoiled, spinning me around like a top in the process. I could breathe again, but my momentum lofted me into the trunk of a pine tree shoulder first.
It knocked the wind out of me and I gasped to suck in some sweet oxygen. “Gaahhh.”
Despite the dizziness and disorientation, I grabbed a tree branch and pulled myself back to my feet. I whirled around just as the tail snapped at me like a whip. Ducking, I barely eluded a three-pronged tip that dug into the bark of the trunk and ripped off a huge patch.
“The memory” started to creep in. No. I know my father was a deadbeat. I don’t need the perpetual reminders. It always forced me to think about the quote: “Trust is like a mirror...once it’s broken...you can never look at it the same again...”
My father was the mirror, causing me to mistrust people. Luckily, the thought faded away and I refocused on the brawl at hand.
The strange creature jumped back and forth, blending in with the background like a chameleon. I waited for it to make the next move and noticed a reflective flash coming from the eyes of the beast.
Bloodline Awakened Supernatural Thriller Series: Books 1-3 Page 4