Darkness Revealed: In the World of the Federal Witch

by T S Paul

  The ambassador smiled. “Of course.”

  “May we inspect it before the agreement?”

  The older of the Dracaenae came forward with a cloth wrapped bundle. He held it out to Dimachaerus. “Were you aware this came from your world originally?” He spoke casually as he began to unwrap it. “It was last seen by mortal eyes during what humans call the Demon War. It was spirited away by followers of the Dark Prince and hidden. Somehow, one of the few Dragons on this world acquired it and reserved it for his own use. Not knowing the power, they possessed, the American Witches Council passed it to us when I asked for it. Ah, here we go.” The book was now exposed to the light.

  It was small, dark, and foreboding looking with indecipherable symbols covering the outside. Dimachaerus held it out to the Strega. “Who wants to look at it?”

  Ysabel waved her hand, and Sybil Tomasso left her throne. She served as the librarian and was an expert in such works.

  Sybil ignored the monstrous forms of the Dracaenae and approached the ambassador’s outstretched hand. The book called to her saying her name as she took it from his hand.

  “I would suggest wrapping that in silk to block the whispering. Items such as that one can be dangerous on their own. But then again, you don’t have to listen to me. Is your group aware of the deal that my masters present?” The Ambassador smiled up at the Queen.

  “Enough of it. We will use that book to gain the prize that we want and to accomplish our goals here on Earth. Can you define your master's part more precisely?”

  Both Dracaenae hissed as the ambassador moved a few feet closer to the throne. “My master and his brethren wish to include Earth in our empire. To do this, we must control some of the external gates. While a multitude of gates on this planet exists, only a few can accommodate a Dragon. We require that after your own goals are accomplished that you make one of the large gates accessible. That is our only request.”

  “Where are the larger gates located?” Ysabel asked as she watched Sybil examine the book.

  “In this half of the world Stonehenge, the Hellmouth, and the Garden. Only Uluru, in what you call Australia, and the valley of Shangri-La in the Kunlun Mountains are big enough in the rest of your world.”

  “Interesting. The Asian locations are not accessible by our people. The Hellmouth is at the center of a very intricate American installation. Any incursion of any kind will result in nuclear weapons being used there against you. Stonehenge is the optimal location of the three.” Ysabel pointed out.

  “You didn’t mention the Garden. Are you not strong enough to take over a small town such as Briarwood?”

  Ysabel growled to herself. “You’re well informed. The Garden is a problem. The Blackmore family controls that gate. We have clashed many times with that group of Witches over the years. They are very formidable.”

  Ambassador Dimachaerus inclined his head. “It is my master’s first choice, but I leave the final decision to you who are here. Failure to gain access to any of the gates we seek will bring down the wrath of Dragons upon your organization. Be warned.” He looked at Sybil and asked. “Does the book meet your expectations?”

  Sybil looked up from her inspections to find all eyes upon her. “My Queen, this is the book we have searched for.”

  “Then we have a deal. The Strega will acquire one of the sacred locations and hold the gate for Dragon use. This we promise.” Ysabel stood and gave a short bow.

  “Excellent. I will inform my master, Lord Leomaris. Good luck in your endeavors.” Dimachaerus turned and left the room. The two Dracaenae hissed at the guards and followed after him.

  Ysabel waited until the group was beyond hearing. “And?”

  “It’s the book we searched for. According to our spies, the Dragon killed in California was named Sarkany. His hoard contained many crates of rare books and other Magickal artifacts of great power. When the Dragon Empire requested them, the Witches Council gave in quickly. They also appear to be making deals with them.” Sybil gave the book a stroke as if it were alive.

  “Yes. All of our Oracles predict we are entering into a time of troubles. Even the Gods speak of it. We must have the advantage our plans call for. Prepare the ritual. Camilla Blackmore must be ready when the time is right.”

  <<< >>>

  “Will they live up to the bargain?” The older Dracaenae hissed his words.

  “That book is a trap. Its makers imbued it with the soul of a madman. The pages and binding come from the skin and bones of an Israelite general whose name has been lost to the depths of time. He spearheaded the effort to eliminate the two tribes that stood in the way of that ancient kingdom's founding, the Amalekites, and the Midianites. Both peoples were hunted down and killed to the very last child. Making this unknown madman guilty of genocide. If you do not protect yourself, the book will whisper at you. Whether they succeed or not in their endeavor, our master wished that book loose upon this world once more. In the chaos, there is opportunity.”

  Chapter 5

  Why, why, why did I ever get married a second time? Or even a third? The many men in my life were flashing before me like billboards on the highway. I used and abused the ones that loved me. Henry was the first but not the last. Harrison French was a nice man in the wrong place and time. All I wanted was a campaign manager. What I got, was a father for my girls and a patsy for my crimes.

  A tall, good-looking man stepped into my office. It sounds like the beginnings of a joke or a romance novel, but that was how I met Harrison. I placed an advertisement for political assistants on one of the hiring boards for that sort of thing while I planned my run for city councilwoman. Briarwood was a small town, but politics are politics. If I wanted to run the town and ultimately control the Coven, I needed to get my feet wet. Magick would only take me so far where my mother was involved.

  “Ms. Fredericks? My name is Harrison French. Are you still looking for a campaign manager?”

  Putting on a smile, I nodded. “Yes, of course, I am. Are you familiar with small-town politics Mr. French?”

  “Some. I worked several campaigns in the lower half of Maine last year and in New York state before that. What are your ultimate goals with this? Do you intend to go further than councilwoman or does Mayor or Governor suit you more?” Harrison motioned to one of my chairs, and I nodded.

  “Governor? Wow. I never considered that position. For now, I want to stay in this area, and Mayor would be enough. We can discuss the future later if you decide to stick around.” I batted my eyes at this handsome-looking man.

  Harrison handed me a small packet of paper. “Those are my references and financial requirements. I’ll get out of your way now. Give me a call when you are ready, and we will put you into office soon.”

  For me, it was a refreshing change. A man answered my ad and didn’t try to snow me. Almost every person that had walked through the door today was either a con artist or a shyster lawyer. I had enough of those from downstairs to suit me. None of the other applicants even came close to what this man offered. He was almost too good to be true.

  “Lori, could you run a background check on someone for me?” One of the first things I did after taking over this office was to hire her away from Henry’s firm. She was better than them.

  “Check out Harrison French. Run his history and previous employers.” I paused a moment in thought. “Check his personal life too. Thank you, Lori.”

  Showing up at political events and dinners with a man like that would help me socially as well as politically.

  <<< >>>

  I blinked my eyes a few times. Why was the room so dark and cold? It was the same room. Where was I? The floor of the cell was cold. So very cold. The remains of what I assumed to be a bed still smoldered in the damp air. Was it my fireball that destroyed it? I can’t remember new things anymore. Only the past, forever the past.

  <<< >>>

  The phone rang in the night. I was sleeping when Harrison woke me.

  “Camilla, dear
. It’s your mother. Ken’s dead!” Harrison switched on the bedside light causing me to squint up at him.

  “What did you say? Who is it?”

  “Your mother. Your sister’s husband Ken has been killed. A drunk driver she said.” He held the phone out towards me.

  I looked at the receiver and smiled. Harrison missed it, but it was a smile of delight. The missionaries came through with my first assignment to them. Make it look like an accident I told them. “Hello, Mother?”

  “Camilla. You’re needed up here at the house. Ken’s been killed out on the North road. Cappy says a drunk driver clipped him causing his car to swerve into a ditch. Teegan is asking for you.”

  Pulling the phone away from my head I stared at it. Why did Teegan want me? “Harrison, can you watch the girls? I need to go to my sister.”

  “Yes, of course. Is there anything else I can do?” The tall man was quickly getting dressed.

  “No, just the girls. This shouldn’t take long.” I heard what sounded like yelling and blushed. I forgot about my mother and the phone.

  “Sorry, Mother. I was just arranging for the girls. I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

  “I heard. You could have brought them. Minerva would have watched them. I will leave the lights on for you.” Marcella hung up the phone.

  “Old busybody.” I shook my head. She should just mind her own business.

  “Did you say something, Camilla?” Harrison stuck his head out of the en-suite bathroom.

  “No. Just talking to myself.”

  He laughed. “You’re only crazy when you answer.”

  “True.” I nodded but added a second part to that silently. Except when the Gods speak to you.

  Grabbing my clothing, I dressed quickly. With all my preparations for the upcoming city council race, I’d forgotten about the contract out on Ken. If the Missionaries of Death were this efficient, I would have to use them again.

  My big white house was in one of the newest parts of town. Ocean views and quiet streets were the selling points for Henry and me. I grew specialty roses in the backyard as a hobby and for relaxation. My mother, on the other hand, lived on the highest point overlooking Briarwood. According to family history, we were here before the town. Before even the first English settlement in Maine if Mother was to be believed. Witch lore is hard to explain to mundanes. So much of it was kept secret that you don’t know what to believe anymore.

  When I was in my early teens, I made the decision to not believe any of it. I wanted to be in charge, but that didn’t mean I believed the BS my mother tried to force down my throat! As a result of my rebellion, she stopped teaching me Magick. At the time, I was ok with it. Who needed to know how to make poultices and set things on fire at a distance?

  Sighing to myself, I turned off Main Street onto her driveway. The Blackmore Estate was massive if you included the Garden and warehouses. One of Mother's many businesses was transporting fruits and vegetables statewide.

  I wasn’t the only one in the family that gave up Magick, my sister Teegan did too. All it took was a whisper here and a gentle push there to convince her. Why should she be more powerful than me? Once, as a child, I found a book that explained all about covens and such. Inheritance played a big part, and they were like the royal families of old. When our mother died, control of the local coven would pass to Teegan and I. My goal was to just hurry it up a bit.

  I could see the house at the top of the hill. Everything was lit up, including the gas lights along the main driveway. As far back as I could remember, the house always looked this way. Change and modernization weren't in Mother’s vocabulary. That was one thing I would change quickly when this was all mine. I like modern things. Technology is a wonder.

  Several cars, including Cappy’s patrol car, and what looked like a State Patrol cruiser were parked haphazardly in front of the house. From the parking lot, I could hear raised voices including that of my mother.

  “… what do you mean it was intentional?” My mother voice could carry if she wanted it to.

  I couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation and that in itself worried me. The Missionaries were supposed to leave no trace. This could be bad for me. I put on a frantic expression and hurried into the house.

  “Mother? Minerva? Are you here?” I called into the house as I let myself inside.

  “In here Camilla.” Mother’s voice came from the formal living room.

  I took everything in with a glance. Teegan wasn’t there, but my mother and the police were. Children’s toys lying scattered near the fireplace told me Agatha was here somewhere. That child was a menace and needed to be sent away. This event might be the ammunition I needed to do it. But first I must know what is happening. “Mother, what’s going on? Where’s Teegan?”

  Dropping my purse on the coffee table, I rushed past the officers and gave Marcella a big hug.

  “Your sister is upstairs with Minerva and Agatha. Please sit with me. Cappy was just explaining how Ken’s death wasn’t an accident.” My mother patted a spot on the couch next to her.

  Cappy took a step backward raising his hands, pulling off his police hat and running his fingers through his hair. “What Captain Jenkins is trying to say Marcella is this, the truck that hit Ken was a logger. It shouldn’t have been on that stretch of roadway, to begin with.”

  My complete attention was on Cappy when he mentioned Jenkins. He was the same officer that told me about Henry and one of two, who might know of my Magickal mistake the night Henry died. Internally I cursed myself. It wasn’t smart to leave potential witnesses alive. I still had a whole lot to learn about being a criminal.

  “We have logging trucks through here all the time, Cappy. How is that a crime?” Marcella questioned.

  The captain spoke up. “Not on that road ma’am. There isn’t a logging operation for more than fifty miles in any direction that it could have come from. Plus, we have laws in this state about trucks carrying that much weight at night without safety precautions.”

  “Accidents happen, Captain Jenkins. Drivers get lost and are unable to turn around for miles. He could be one of those. We’ve all seen that before. Aren’t they clearing forest areas west of us? Your argument is very weak.” Marcella pointed out.

  “I said almost the same thing. Trucks get lost, and drivers who aren’t familiar with the area screw up. But this isn’t one of those cases.” The Captain paused for a moment. “Mrs. Blackmore, the trailer has Canadian plates. If it was that lost, it shouldn’t have crossed the border in the first place. I have investigative units on their way toward St. Steven and Vanceboro, local RCMP units are already investigating.”

  “What about the driver?” The sentence croaked its way out of my mouth before I could stop it.

  All eyes in the room turned to me as I cleared my throat and tried to take it back.

  “The driver, Ma’am?” Captain Jenkins’s eyes seemed to bore right through me.

  “Of the truck. Was he Canadian?” I answered.

  “We aren’t sure. He was dead when rescuers pulled the truck out of the ditch. There was no identification on either him or the truck.” Cappy held up his hand when my mouth dropped open to say something.

  “There were no plates on the truck cab, and all markings on the doors were scrubbed off. That part is really suspicious. All vehicles have numbers. Manufacturers use them to track parts, and they are required by law. Whoever planned this, wiped them away. All but one. On this particular style of truck there are four easy ones: under the hood, the top of the frame rail, inside the driver's door jamb, and under an inspection plate where a glove box would be found in a regular car. There are also numbers on the engine itself. Once the state gets the truck back to the shop, they plan to rip it apart to start solving this mystery. We wanted you to know the preliminaries, Marcella. Could the boy’s family be behind this?”

  My eyes were already wide with shock when Cappy mentioned Ken’s family. They were one of the reasons I had him killed by
those idiots! I’m sure the paper trail or whatever it is would dry up, and law enforcement would find nothing, but the suspicion was already there. Damn them!

  “Ken was a special case. He came here to what he called the ‘end of the Earth’ to avoid them. We were as far away as he could get and not be in British territory. If they even knew where he was, I doubt they would have killed him like this. They are more of a “show up at your house and challenge you to a duel” sort of group.” Marcella looked over at the captain. Jenkins had a look that kept switching from surprise to one of puzzlement.

  “They are Japanese Magick users, Captain Jenkins. They could have killed him without using a truck to do it. Trust me when I say they didn’t do this. They won’t be happy that he is gone. The reverse I think.”

  “I’m going to need their names regardless, Mrs. Blackmore.” Jenkins pulled out his pad.

  “Ken is short for Kenji Shinigami. He allowed my daughter to keep her name by calling himself, Ken Blackmore. I would check with the Japanese embassy before trying to interrogate any of the Shinigami family locally.” Marcella pointed out.

  “I can handle my own investigation, thank you!”

  Marcella stood and took the now upset captain’s hand. “Just a suggestion. Good evening to you. I need to take Camilla upstairs to see her sister. Cappy, can you see the captain out?”

  My mother held out her hand towards me next. “Come, my dear, let’s see to your sister.”

  Taking her hand, I stood up. Nodding towards Cappy and Jenkins, I followed Mother through the house. Way too many thoughts and contingency plans warred with each other inside my head. What are the odds that Jenkins is involved in my life over yet another accident? There is no such thing as a coincidence. Steps would need to be taken. I got rid of Ken to prevent the Shinigami family from interfering with my succession. If he was on the outs with them should I have waited? I needed more information. Fortunately, Mother was taking me toward the one person who could answer everything.

  Chapter 6