by N M Thorn
“This is it. Perfect,” Az murmured calmly and separated the bamboo curtain, gesturing for him to come in.
Damian walked inside and headed toward the table. Pulling a chair out, he sat down, twirling the dagger in his hand. Somewhere far away, a dog howled—the sound filled with so much despair that his skin crawled. He closed his eyes and connected with the power of Earth, hoping to understand the animal, but the dog remained silent.
Feeling a tap on his shoulder, he let go and opened his eyes. Az stood across from him with a folded paper and a small crystal in his hands. He unfolded the paper on the table, carefully ironing all the creases with his hands, and placed the crystal on top of it. Damian glanced at a large map of three states divided by county lines and showing the major cities and then raised his eyes at the old wizard.
“This map shows only three states—California, Arizona and Nevada. What if JB is not in one of these states?” he asked.
Az smirked, his thin lips stretching enough to show off his overly bleached teeth.
“Very much possible.” He shrugged indifferently. “There is a chance he’s not in the realm of humans at all. However”—he raised a finger—“there is only one necromancer that I know of who’s capable of conjuring wurdulaks, and it’s JB. So, something tells me he is somewhere here. If everything you told me is true, he can’t be far. Let’s start with these three states, and we’ll take it from there.” He ran his finger over the crystal and smiled, taking a deep breath. “Let’s see if I have what it takes to find this old bugger.”
He extended his hand palm up, giving Damian a pointed stare. Damian glanced at his hand and something twitched in him, his heart sinking to his knees with dread. The dog howled again, and a few more answered its call, echoing through the neighborhood.
Az raised his head, staring around, concern reflecting on his face. “Damn animals,” he muttered, shaking his head. “It’s been like this all day long. Howling and barking. I wonder if someone has died.” He glanced at Damian as if searching for his support. “You know how animals are. They can see a lot more than we can.” He sighed, pursing his lips, and moved his hand closer to Damian. “This is that moment where I need the dagger for a few minutes to cast the scrying spell. I promise I’ll give it back to you as soon as I’m done.”
Stifling a sigh, Damian placed the dagger in the wizard’s hand, his heart speeding up. Az took it and put it on the table in front of the crystal. Barely paying attention to the weapon, he focused strictly on the map. For a moment, he studied it with his eyes, then he touched the crystal, muttering something under his breath. A soft light ignited in the depths of the rock, and a shimmering cloak of magical energy wrapped around it.
“Ready?” muttered Az, but Damian wasn’t sure he was asking him. “Here goes...”
He placed his hands on either side of the dagger without actually touching it and started to chant. In the beginning, his words sounded like a soft murmur and Damian couldn’t make out anything he was saying. As he progressed with his enchantment, his voice became louder, his words carrying through the house loud and clear. A glowing orb materialized between his opened palms, and the weapon lifted a few inches in the air, surrounded by the glow of Az’s magic.
The orb of light encapsulating the dagger became brighter, and all of a sudden, a single ray extended from it, creating a bridge between the blade and the crystal. It shone brighter and brighter, and soon the entire room was flooded with its light, making it impossible to see anything. Damian grunted and opened his second sight, but except for the brightness of Az’s magical energy, he could see nothing.
“Az!” yelled Damian, raising his arm to protect his vision.
“Here... Almost...”
Damian heard the strained voice of the old wizard right in front of him, and a moment later, the light subsided. He pressed his hands to his eyes, blinking the dancing red and white spots from his vision. When he could finally see again, he saw Az sitting in his chair, breathing hard as if he had just ran a few miles. The dagger still lay on the table next to the crystal, seemingly untouched.
“Take it,” whispered Az, barely moving his lips. His face was gray with exhaustion, and he looked like he was ready to cross the veil. “I’m done. I’m too old and not powerful enough for this kind of spell, but it worked nonetheless.” With an effort, he pushed himself up and leaned over the map, pointing down at the state of California, a winning smile stretching his lips. “I was right. JB is still in the same place. He didn’t move. I know exactly where you can find him.”
Az grabbed his notepad and a pen and quickly scribbled something on it. Ripping the page off, he offered it to Damian. Damian took the paper and grabbed the dagger from the table, putting it back in his pocket.
“Are you kidding me?” he mumbled as he read the address on the paper. “The world’s most dangerous Master of the Dark Arts lives in Encino?”
Az chuckled faintly, wiping sweat off his forehead. “What can I tell you, slayer. He was always an eccentric fellow.” He got up and swayed slightly. “When you find him, tell him Az said hello—”
A loud howl interrupted the old wizard, and he stilled, frowning. Another howl followed, and at least ten more joined in a gut-wrenching chorus. Somewhere nearby, a cat’s terrified meow joined the cacophony of the dogs’ voices, and Damian froze in place, small hairs rising on the back of his neck.
“Something is not right...” mumbled Az, but Damian raised his hand, silencing him.
Connecting with the energy of Earth, he sharpened his hearing, trying to distinguish separate words in the cacophony of voices. The words came muffled and unclear, but it was enough for him to capture the meaning, and for a split second, sticky fingers of fear wrapped around his heart.
“Hide... run... it’s coming... death is coming... hide...”
The voices of the animals repeated the same phrase over and over, making the blood run cold in Damian’s veins. Suddenly, a heavy silence enveloped the neighborhood. It came so unexpectedly that for a moment, he thought a silencing spell was cast in the area. The dogs stopped barking and howling. The shrilling meows of the cats died down. Even the birds and cicadas fell silent.
“What’s happening—,” started Az, but Damian frowned, holding his hand up.
He opened his second sight and held his breath, sweat trickling down his back. The entire area, for as far as he could reach with his sight, was under a heavy cloak of dark magical energy. He recognized the energy signature, and his stomach twisted painfully, alarm ringing in his mind.
“Procedia Amnia,” he whispered with a light wave of his hand, placing a protection spell over the room.
“A basic protection spell? Are you kidding me?” Az raised his hands, backing away from Damian. “On, no. No, no, no... What’s coming?”
“Death is coming,” Damian muttered over his shoulder, pushing the table to the side of the room. “It could be coming for you or for me—take your pick. It makes no difference. I can’t let monsters run amok in a residential neighborhood.” His daggers materialized in his hands, and he channeled his magic through them, igniting them with a brilliant, white light.
“You’re no slayer... What are you?” mumbled Az, raising his arms, fear contorting his features.
“Does it matter?” asked Damian, switching his attention to the entrance just in time to see the door explode inward. A shower of wooden splinters and dust impacted his shield, obscuring his vision for a moment.
“Oh, God... My home... My business...” Az moaned, burying his hands into his fluffy hair, devastation in his words.
“Or your life,” growled Damian without taking his eyes off the doorway as a few shadowy figures burst inside the house.
They halted for a second, their glowing, red eyes darting from Damian to Az, and their lips drew back in a snarl, exposing four terrifying fangs. There were at least five of them inside the house, and as far as Damian could see, a few more stood in the front yard, waiting for the opportunity to jum
p into action.
One of the men stepped forward and pulled out a small orb glowing with a sinister purple light. Meeting Damian’s eyes, a horrendous smile distorted his face, stretching his lips wider than it was humanly possible. He touched the orb and growled something incomprehensible. A dark ray of purple light burst from under his fingers, impacting the shield of Damian’s protective magic. Damian channeled more of his power through it, but to his shock, the ray of dark magic cut through it as if it were nothing. As the protective magic collapsed, the man snickered and opened his mouth wider, saliva dripping from his fangs.
“Moderius,” Damian shouted. Expecting for the wurdulaks to run forward at their full speed, he wanted to slow them down, but he had no idea how wrong he was.
Moving too fast despite Damian’s spell, the front wurdulak touched the glowing orb again, muttering something under his breath, and it morphed into a short spear shimmering with a dark, purple mist. He pulled his massive arm back and propelled it at Damian’s chest.
With no time left to think, Damian raised his daggers, hoping to deflect the magical energy of the spear at least partially and protect the old wizard, but Az seized his arm and pushed him with more strength than he expected, making him stagger aside. The spear impacted the old man in the shoulder, piercing it through, and then dissipated. Az cried out in pain and collapsed, blood gushing from the deep hole, soaking his robe through.
“Ventius,” shouted Damian, reinforcing his spell with his elemental power. A powerful blast of wind rushed forward, throwing the wurdulaks back and out of the house. Damian gathered the energy of Earth in his hands and spread his arms wide. The ground shook and shifted, and thick, thorny bushes broke through. Entwining, they grew higher and higher until the doorway was completely blocked.
Damian knew this wasn’t going to hold the wurdulaks forever. It would take them just a few minutes to break through, but this gave him an opportunity to take care of Az. Making his daggers vanish, he lowered to his knees, quickly examining the wound on the old man’s shoulder. While it was bleeding profusely, it wasn’t fatal. Healing him wasn’t an option, however, as the healing magic would take a lot of his strength, and he still had to deal with the wurdulaks.
“Az,” he whispered, shaking him gently.
The old wizard cracked his eyes open and hissed in pain, clasping his injured shoulder. Quickly visualizing the entrance into the emergency room of the Blue Creek Memorial, Damian cringed inwardly, hoping that no one would notice the old man appear from thin air.
“Az, I’m going to teleport you to the hospital,” he whispered quickly. “I can’t have you materialize in front of all the people there. So, I’ll send you to the small alley on the left side of the main building. Can you make it from there to the ER?”
“I think so,” mumbled the old man, struggling to sit up. As Damian placed his hand to his shoulder and raised his other hand, ready to snap his finger, Az stopped him. “How about you, Damian? Come with me. You can’t fight all these monsters alone.”
Damian chuckled, shaking his head. “I can’t leave. Someone needs to deal with these fanged assholes. Besides, ‘alone’ is what I do best.” He snapped his fingers, and Az vanished from the house, leaving a small puddle of blood on the floor.
The walls of the building shook, and the windows exploded with a violent bang, a cloud of sparkling glass splinters bursting inside. An avalanche of monsters forced themselves through the openings, struggling to push their massive frames into the small entrance hall. With his mind working on overdrive, Damian looked for the best way to handle the situation, and as a crazy thought flashed through his mind, a dark smirk crossed his face.
Without waiting for all of them to make it inside, Damian waved his hand, removing the shield of the thorny bushes. Moving as fast as he could muster, he bolted toward the exit. A few wurdulaks stepped in his way, but he didn’t slow down. His blazing daggers materialized in his hands, and he spun around, decapitating the wurdulak closest to him, cutting through the chests of the other two. They hissed furiously, staggering back. Damian rushed past them out the door, avoiding their hands with sharp claws. Before the rest of the monsters could realize what he was up to, he ran to the fence and stopped there, spinning around to face them. Placing two fingers in his mouth, he whistled.
“Hey, assholes!” he yelled, waving his arms. “Looking for someone?”
For a heartbeat, the wurdulaks stilled, but as they realized they had lost their prey, they spun around and rushed toward him, creating a stampede.
“Moderius,” yelled Damian, casting the same spell again to slow them down to a more or less reasonable speed.
The monsters roared angrily, fighting the resistance of his magic. He laughed, the excitement of the fight charging him with adrenaline. He jumped over the fence and quickly surveyed the area. While the street seemed to be empty, he wasn’t oblivious to the fact that anyone could have been watching him from behind closed blinds, filming everything with their smartphones.
“Moderius Amplio,” he hissed, increasing the potency of his spell to slow the monsters down some more. Turning toward them, he roared, “You want me? Catch me if you can!”
The wurdulaks responded with furious screams. Damian laughed again, a wild excitement breaking to the surface. He turned around and took off running toward the abandoned building he used as his teleportation spot. Glancing over his shoulder, he ensured that the wurdulaks followed him, counting fifteen of them. Without slowing down, he burst through the door of the half-demolished building.
As he zoomed through the large living area and then through the kitchen, he waved his hand and shouted, “Exitius!”
The wall blew up with a thunderous bang, pieces of concrete, wood and debris flying around. Choking on the dust lingering in the air, he slipped through the opening into the spacious backyard. Once outside, he twirled around and channeled the power of Earth, completely surrendering to it.
As soon as he saw all fifteen wurdulaks enter the house, he moved his hand in a wide arch and muttered a spell, encapsulating the building in a powerful shield to block the wurdulaks from leaving. Then he spread his arms wide, and the ground shook violently, responding to his mental command. Deep fractures slithered through the walls and the roof caved in completely, but Damian didn’t stop, localizing the earthquake to the area under the base of the house. The walls gave in, collapsing on top of the monsters, and a cloud of dust and debris rose in the air, a mighty boom shattering the stillness of the night.
Damian didn’t stop. Burying the wurdulaks under a few tons of bricks and concrete wasn’t enough to kill them. Powered by magic, these monsters weren’t easy to destroy. Dropping to one knee, he rooted his fists into the ground. Channeling more and more power, he screamed, the muscles on his back and arms bulging from unimaginable strain. A thick pulsing vein appeared on his neck as he pushed himself to the extreme. The ground separated beneath the house, and the entire building—or what was left of it—fell into the deep, giant pit he had created. Breathing hard, he jumped to his feet and ran to the edge of the hole. Channeling all the magic he could gather from nature and from within, he extended his arms toward the bottom of the pit.
“Ignius Amplio!” he shouted, barely able to breathe. Two powerful jets of fire escaped his hands, flooding the pit, turning it into a flaming inferno. The screams of the burning monsters reached his ears, and a cold smirk crossed his face.
A few seconds later, it was over. Damian let go of his magic and stood, swaying, observing his handiwork. The house was gone, replaced by a giant hole in the ground. The fire still crackled at the bottom, dark swirls of smoke rising high above it, probably visible from miles away. He felt so drained by the extreme use of his magic and elemental power, he could barely keep an upright position, but his work wasn’t done yet. With an effort of will, he connected with his element again, and the pit closed slowly, concealing the leftovers of the house and the piles of ash left by the wurdulaks.
Magnus
is going to kill me... A faint thought flashed through his mind. If this didn’t expose the World of Magic, I don’t know what would have...
He snapped his fingers and vanished from the now empty lot.
Chapter 19
~ Damian Blake ~
Damian materialized next to the backdoor of a tiny bookshop owned by the representative of the Wardens Order in the back alley of a small plaza. Breathing hard, with sweat plastering his shirt to his body, he leaned forward, bracing his arms against the door, trying to compose himself enough to speak coherently. Taking a few deep breaths, he pushed away and knocked, feeling the world starting to spin around him.
The door opened almost immediately, and an older man appeared in the doorway. As his eyes halted on Damian, taking in his appearance, his mouth dropped open, his gray, bushy eyebrows rising. Even though they had met only once previously when Cole introduced him to Master Warden Luc de la Crosse, Damian recognized the human Warden right away.
“Mr. Cooper,” said Damian faintly. “Please... can I... I... need...”
“Commander Blake, are you okay?” mumbled Aaron, ushering him inside. “What can I do to help you, my lord?”
“Water... and an empty room,” Damian managed to say, sounding apologetic. “I need just a few minutes of solitude, please... Also... sorry to... bother... need the Master Warden here.”
Aaron escorted Damian into an empty room at the back of the shop and brought a bottle of water, placing it on the table in front of him. As soon as the Warden left, closing the door, Damian channeled some of his power and drew a rune in the air. Touching the Shadow Enforcer’s rune on his shoulder, he connected them and whispered, “Magnus, I summon thee...”
An oval communication window replaced the rune, but a few seconds later, it still remained dark and silent.