by Rain Oxford
“I always trust you, honey, but you’re not being very clear.”
“I know… It’s not a vision. I just feel like we can’t save him. It’s like a vision but I don’t know why.”
“Can’t you just flash to the kids? If they’re alive like you said, there shouldn’t be a problem.”
Without answering, Dylan focused on Drake. Of all of Ron and Hail’s friends, Drake was the one he knew the most. Bright light filled the room and when it cleared, he was in utter darkness. He easily created a sphere of energy in his hand, something akin to a white flame but more volatile.
He was alone in a large room with no doors or windows.
* * *
“Your friends were just here,” Sylvester said, taking the rag out of Devon’s mouth.
“So I’ve heard,” Devon said calmly, turning his head towards the sound of the malevolent voice. The stench of gas was giving him a major headache and his muscles were cramping from his arms being contorted for hours. “I take it they didn’t have your little box?”
“Not on them, but I know one of you has it somewhere. I bet one of those kids took it. They’re always taking things that don’t belong to them.”
“Says the man responsible for stealing toys in order to force people to buy from you. For that matter, why build toys if you so obviously hate kids? And what does your brother have to do with it?”
“Children waste their youth on frivolous things and they’re always so messy. My brother adores them. I am done with him; he will die when the children do.”
“Well, you’re obviously a man without issues. I suppose adulthood was too much for you, so you’re trying to stop your own aging by taking the liveliness of children.” Devon was hit in the face with a book hard enough to leave a ringing in his ears, but he was expecting the blow. “Why do you need the box anyway if you already have the kids?”
“You fool. The children are in the box!”
“Ah. So your little ghoul has to steal back the box before Christmas. Let me guess. You have until the stroke of midnight? I know it’s not at dawn because that’s a different type of magic altogether. So you have, what? Three hours left?”
Silence… “How do you know that?”
Devon stood from the chair with a sigh, letting the cut strips of tape fall to the floor. He took the blindfold off and faced his assailant. Unfortunately, it was too dark to actually see his opponent.
“How…”
“You are a terrible captor.” He let his instincts guide his aim and struck Sylvester in the face. Before Sylvester could get out of the way, Devon grabbed him by the back of the neck and slammed him face-first into the wall. “You took my gun and left a knife in my pocket. You took my ring and left my healing charm around my neck. But your biggest mistake— that’s the funny part— was that you made a circle out of chalk and then poured gasoline over it.” He slammed Sylvester into the wall again before letting go.
“You’re too late anyway,” Sylvester said. “Your friends are going to die any minute now.”
“Yeah, yeah. Your little pet is on his way there now.”
“No one can control him except me.”
“That’s what I’m counting on.” Devon had been aware of his influence over minds for as long as he could remember, but it wasn’t until he attended Quintessence that he learned how powerful his ability was. He wrapped his magic around Sylvester’s mind and seized complete control within an instant. Sylvester would stop breathing if that was what Devon demanded.
Instead, he forced Sylvester’s will to summon the beast back. Devon was able to do this without delving into the toymaker’s memories thanks to many hours of practice with his uncle. Once he felt a response, he turned his focus on Sylvester.
“How do I save the kids?”
“You die.”
Devon grabbed Sylvester by the hair and slammed the toymaker’s face into a hard, wooden support beam. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that. Want to try again?”
“They’re in the box!” Sylvester yelled. His sinister voice was more nasally with his panic and pain. Well, that and his broken nose.
“Yes, and I want them out of the box. You said the box was small, so I know you have some kind of magic to make them fit. How do I get them out?”
“You die. The children are in a place very far from here, in a cell that absorbs their magic and life energy. The only way out is through the salominius. You open it here and it becomes a portal to the dimension where the children are.”
“Did you just say it’s a transdimensional box? As in, the box is bigger on the inside?”
“Yes, and it was never supposed to be opened. I will get the salominius back and destroy it in the proper ritual, which will give me the life-force of everyone in those cells. If you open it, it will take every ounce of your energy and magic. Whoever opens the box will die.”
The creature Devon had summoned suddenly crashed through the door, bound down the stairs, and attacked him. He released his control over Sylvester and reached for the creature’s mind. It turned midway in its leap and hit the floor in a clumsy heap, but its mind was not entirely ensnared. It twisted around and struck Devon across the gut with its wing. This didn’t distract him. Devon used his power again, focusing on fire. He knew better than to actually create flame with gasoline all over the floor, but he had learned a lot about mental projection over the three semesters he spent at Quintessence.
He projected fire into the beast’s mind, causing the beast to go into a fit of convulsions. After a moment, Devon stopped the attack and easily took complete control. It was not a mind like that of a person or animal, but something like a cross between the two. Although the creature was sentient and capable of understanding things, it was a dependent servant by nature, as if it were domesticated.
The creature stood on two gangly legs, flapped its wings a couple of times, and bowed to Devon, its body still twitching from his attack. “Bring me the box, be gentle with it, and don’t harm anyone.” The beast took off and Devon pushed his control of the creature to the back of his mind. He turned back to Sylvester.
“You can’t make me open the box,” the toymaker said, his voice strong with anger.
“I could, but no, that’s not my plan.”
A loud meow made Devon grin. Only one cat could make a sound so awful. He turned to the chair he had been tied to and saw the faint shape of his uncle’s familiar. “Ghost, just who I wanted to see. I need you to get something for me.”
* * *
Realizing there was no way out, Dylan tried to flash back. Flashing was basically tearing a hole through the universe to travel from one place to another. It wasn’t exactly instantaneous; there was a degree of time lost, but it was usually unnoticeable. If Dylan was near one of the gods or something equally powerful, more time occurred as he flashed from one place to another.
This time, nothing happened.
“Are you kidding?” Dylan tried again and achieved the same lack of success. “Mordon?” No answer. They had tested the distance they could speak to each other telepathically, and so far hadn’t found anything short of a planet between them that could block it.
A very odd, half meow half growl made him turn. He expected to see some rabid, hideous beast. He was right. The ugliest cat he had ever seen in his life was sitting in the corner, glaring at him. The cat had one blue eye, one gold eye, a long scar down its blue eye, and graying, matted, patchy fur.
“Are you… here to help?” he asked hesitantly. He didn’t want to hurt the creature if it was trying to help him, but the only thing that came to mind was that this was some kind of zombie cat. There was no way something like that could be---
The cat jumped up and ran to him suddenly. He wanted to get on top of a table and shriek like a little girl who just saw a rat. When the cat circled him and rubbed against his pant leg, he shuddered. Now all he wanted was a bath. He couldn’t have been more surprised when the shadows of the room grew darker and advanced on them.
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br /> The shadows consumed everything until he was in absolute darkness. He felt the cat push against his calf and he almost tripped. The ground was uneven and the gravity was heavy. Of course, it was nothing Dylan couldn’t handle, as he was used to the heavier gravity of Duran.
Instead of letting the cat guide him, he reached out his hand and formed light. It was the light of the void; a light that was both divine and ungodly. Really, Dylan didn’t know what it was, or what he was for that matter. He regularly controlled aspects of the void, which was where the demons came from, using his god powers. Light filled the space and Dylan saw the creatures that surrounded him.
He cursed and killed the light. He would rather be eaten. In fact, he hoped they ate his eyes first. The image he saw in that single moment was the most horrifying thing he had ever seen, and he would rather have been fed on alive by demons than see what he just saw.
And then the darkness cleared, leaving him in his apartment with Mordon and the boys. “What happened?” Mordon asked immediately. Dylan shook his head. It wasn’t something he could describe. He was going to ask Divina to erase it from his mind as soon as he saw her again.
He looked down, wanting to offer the cat something to eat for helping him, but it was gone. Hail’s eyes glowed and he started to fall. Dylan caught him in time to stop him from hitting the ground.
“What the hell is that?” Ron asked, looking at the table. Swiping at the box was the cat that had helped Dylan. Before anyone could stop the cat, it clawed the binding ribbon and flipped off the lid.
* * *
Blood pooled on the ground, forming an inch-thick magic circle. In the middle of the blood was a small, colorful box. As a hissing, malicious voice recited an incantation, the blood began to creep up the walls of the box. The blood was being absorbed into the box, and as it was, it stained the box red.
* * *
Hail’s eyes returned to their normal purple, but everyone was distracted by what had appeared out of the tiny box.
Which was a less tiny box.
Mordon went to the present box, pulled the new string, and lift the lid. The sides of the box fell away and left a bigger box, like the reverse of matryoshka dolls. The cat flattened his ears and glared at it, then vanished.
“Reality is leaking again,” Ron said.
The door slammed open and the flame-proof creature burst in. Mordon shot fire at it, but the flames just hit the creature and died. Dylan motioned with his hand, about to attack. “Wait!” Hail exclaimed. Dylan changed his magic to defensive and instead put a protective shield of energy around Ron and Hail.
The creature remained at the door, watching them.
“He’s here for the box,” Hail said. “I think Devon sent him.”
“If Devon is in any condition to send this creature, he should have come himself,” Mordon argued.
Hail grabbed the box off the table, surprised by how heavy it had gotten, set it on the floor, and gave it a kick. It slid across the floor until it reached the creature. The beast picked up the box, spread its wings, and took off out the door.
“We need to get back to the shop,” Dylan said. “We have twenty minutes to save the kids.”
* * *
“What would happen if you destroy the box without the proper rituals?” Devon asked Sylvester as he tied the toymaker to the chair.
“Just like opening it, you’ll die. The doorway would be sealed forever with the children inside and I wouldn’t get their energy. All the children would starve to death and die.”
“And there’s absolutely no other way for anyone to go inside or out?”
“No, there isn’t.”
“Good.”
“You’re not going to make it in time.”
“Of course I will.” He knew the creature was already bringing him the box and that Hail and his family were also on their way. He wanted to get done with everything before they arrived, but not too early.
Right on time, he thought as the creature entered the basement through the destroyed door and leapt down the steps. The thing was creepy as hell, but he didn’t care as long as he had full control over it.
“Go stand in the circle,” he told the beast. It obeyed instantly. He didn’t have his uncle’s grimoire, which contained more knowledge of magic than he would ever attain, but he had listened when Vincent taught him about protective magic. He even had what he needed thanks to Sylvester’s attempt to trap him.
When the toymaker started chanting something in one of the magic languages, Devon took the rag off the table next to the stairs and stuffed it in Sylvester’s mouth. Ghost appeared on a table with a black satin sack.
“Good job,” he praised. The cat managed a less vexed glare. Devon took the sack, emptied it into his palm, and turned to the creature and the box. “Open it,” he said, pushing his will into the creature’s mind.
It did. It pulled the decorative ribbon free and lifted the lid. The sides fell away, leaving behind a larger box. Devon’s original circle would never have done, but thanks to Hail, he had managed to adjust it before the box arrived.
As the creature went through box after growing box, Devon started to feel the energy swarming the magical object. He slipped on the amulet that the cat had brought him. This was no ordinary amulet; the talisman, which he had used once before, could absorb the magic of anyone around it. Devon didn’t want the magic for himself, but he knew it could be trapped inside the amulet. At least, his super-genius roommate had been able to do so.
Using the amulet was like using his own magic, except it came from anyone around him. He wanted the amulet to draw out the power of the box. When the beast pulled the lid off the box again, it didn’t have a bigger box inside of it. “Go get the kids and bring every one of them back uninjured.”
The creature flew into the box and Devon turned his focus to controlling the amulet. He could feel the magic unable to enter him, as if his sheer will was protecting him. Whether it was the result of his training or not, Devon was just glad it was going right for once. Even though it was going as planned, he still had to work to hold the magic inside the amulet.
Dylan, Mordon, and the boys arrived then. “Did we miss the party?” Ron asked.
“No,” Devon answered, “the guests are just about to arrive.” As if to prove him right, the creature flew out of the box carrying three small kids. It set them down and went back in for more.
“Boys, get them out of the building,” Dylan said. “What do you need?” he asked Devon.
“Just watch for unexpected catastrophes.” He looked at the door and saw a frowning clown with a dagger in its hand. “Like that.”
Mordon shifted his fingers into claws and scratched the clown across the chest. Unfortunately, the evil creature was not a living being; it didn’t even notice and it damn sure didn’t bleed.
Devon looked around for his gun that Sylvester had taken, found it on the floor beside the chair, and tossed it to Dylan. Dylan shot the clown in the head. The animated toy went down.
And then it got back up.
“Daddy, the dolls came alive and want to eat me!” Ron yelled from in the shop. “Can I kill them?”
“Yes, sweetheart! Just don’t use fire!” Dylan answered, holding the clown off with a force field. “I’m going to grab the sword. Can you handle this?”
“Yes,” Mordon said.
Devon had to close his eyes when the room filled with bright light. When he opened his eyes again, Dylan was gone. “You’re all insane,” he said. Mordon nodded in agreement.
The winged beast returned with another group of children just as Ron and Hail made it past the clown. They got the kids, but the door was crowded by half-plastic girls trying to get down the stairs. Nothing Mordon did injured the creatures.
One of the dolls got away from the others and reached for Devon. The second he let his control slip, the excess energy inside him lashed out and struck the doll. She melted, but since she was half alive at that time, what was left of he
r was a gruesome mixture of bones, melted flesh, and melted plastic.
And then Devon couldn’t breathe. The pain in his chest wasn’t the problem; he took a lot worse. It was the pressure he felt in his chest that prevented him from being able to draw in air. He forced himself to focus through the pounding of his cursed heart in order to regain control of the wayward magic.
The beast returned again with five little babies, each wrapped in blankets. The beast laid them gently on the floor before going back for more. Devon didn’t know how long he could hold onto the power, even with the amulet. It was churning in him like adrenaline.
Dylan appeared with a katana sword, but not just any katana sword. The blade was black and emitted a slight blue glow. Dylan handed the sword to Mordon and used short bursts of energy to scatter the animated toys out of the doorway. Ron and Hail helped the kids and babies out.
This method worked long enough for the winged beast to get the remaining children out of the box. Finally, Devon released the magic back into the box and sat heavily in the chair… which was conspicuous in its emptiness. Sylvester was gone.
All the animated toys reverted back into their original, un-monstrous states and collapsed. “Is that it? Are we safe?” Hail asked, peering down through the basement doorway. “Can we get food now?”
They went upstairs just as Ron found Sylvester’s brother locked in a closet. “Are you sure he’s clean?” Dylan asked Mordon.
“I don’t smell a single bad intention on the man. His adoration of children and happiness is almost sickening. If he isn’t innocent, no one is,” Mordon said. He turned to the man. “I suggest you leave town before the sheriff finds out your brother’s store is responsible for the kidnapping of children.”
“Nobody is going to believe that the toys came alive. What are you going to tell them?” Devon asked.
Dylan and Mordon looked at each other. “They’ll believe us,” Dylan said.