by Shawn Reilly
“Linn said to take the road that leads back to the cemetery and she’ll be waiting at the entrance,” Kennedy announced returning her phone to her pocket. “She said there’s a trail that leads to Doc Garrett’s cabin from there, and that she can manage the rest of the way on foot, but that leaves the problem of how we’re going to get there. I can’t carry her on my back in my tiger-form if she can’t hold on.”
Kennedy unzipped her coat and reached for Casin, and then zipped her up inside when he carefully handed her over. “She wasn’t very happy with Asher, Nixon,” she said.
“We’ll deal with that obstacle later.” At the sight of the snowmobiles he gestured toward them. “Lucky for us, hotwiring cars is one of my many talents. Stay here with the twins until I check things out.”
Moving around to the front of the cabin Nixon saw Asher kick a body across the room inside the cabin, and knew that his arrogance must be getting in the way if he was fighting instead of using his magic. Struggling whether to go inside and assist him or doing what he was told, Nixon noticed Ari in the doorway wave him on. The twins needed out of the weather and Kennedy needed his help. With the outcasts fleeing, there was no clue what she might face in the woods alone, and she had a wounded child to tend to. He let that be his motivation to move on.
Hurrying to the first snowmobile, he was relieved to see that fate had fallen into their hands. Not only were the keys dangling from the ignition, he recognized the blue tags hanging from them that sported the name of Gruber’s Fun Place. In his high school days, it was a happening weekend hangout. Gesturing for the others to hurry and join him, Nixon climbed on a snowmobile, and started the ignition. Kennedy got on behind him. She told Cade to shift and picking up his rat body off the snow, she placed him inside her coat with Casin to keep them both warm.
Once they were settled, Nixon looked back at the cabin and caught a glimpse of the man that Asher was fighting with, and a wave of recognition washed over him. The Asian had been the one that took the first punch at him in the pub. Not only was he with the outcasts that had started the fight, he was the one that along with his buddy threw him out onto the snow afterwards.
***
In a roar of fury the Asian came at him again and Asher was ready. He sent a roundhouse in the exact same spot as before with the instep of Grant’s ice fishing boot, and sent him flying back. The youth smacked the wall with a sickening thud, and as awareness abandoned him, he slowly slipped to the ground, landing on the man with the thick sideburns. According to his peripheral vision his brother had returned. Asher had long outgrown his protection, but he figured there was no point in arguing. Ari took one look at the bodies sprawled out on the floor and shook his head.
“Figured you wouldn’t need me,” he said, “but I’m here anyway.”
Before he could even take up a defensive posture, Ari was surprised by another youth. This one was shorter and not as convinced of his abilities as the previously knocked-out Asian. Asher dare not intervene for the sake of Ari’s dignity. Besides, he needed to witness the power of his father’s obvious influence on his followers.
Momentarily knocked off balance, Ari stumbled, but stronger and skilled, he quickly managed to wrestle his foe’s hands back, mercy style, in an attempt to snap his wrist. His opponent let out a pain filled scream with a mouth wide enough that Asher could clearly see the silver caps in his back molars. And then, unsuspectingly, threads of light flared from the youth’s fingertips, and Ari’s wrist began to bend back at an odd angle. With his eyes clinched, brow furrowed and mouth clamped shut, Ari fought to regain control.
The sound of music, something old yet recognizable broke the strange silence that had befallen the room. Asher’s eyes darted to where his father stood. He winked at Asher as he removed a cellphone from the pocket of his coat, the source of the music.
“You know Asher, I’ve always been intrigued by those eyes of yours,” he said. “The color is such an unusual shade of blue, but it’s the ring around them that interest me now, and might I add, right now they are quite red with hate. Hello,” Ross spoke into the phone irritating Asher with both his words and casual actions.
Reaching over Asher grabbed the youth away from Ari by the collar and sent him forward with a whisk of light which was his equivalent to a kick in the butt. Then with another zap of magic Asher sent him stumbling toward the two remaining men, gearing up to make their moves, and forcefully slammed them together. Their heads clacked loudly, and all three fell to the ground on top of their fallen brethren.
“I could have taken him,” Ari breathlessly complained giving Asher a side glance. “You always have to prove yourself, don’t you?”
Asher ignored him. He had been observing his father when he just happened to notice one robed man in particular standing at Ross’s left. There was something odd about him that Asher couldn’t quite place. Tall, grey headed, sporting a sinewy build underneath his robe, the man appeared to stare at nothing in particular, and then Asher noticed his eyes as they started to glow a bright red. Ari started to say something and then stood with his mouth opened. Asher knew that he saw him too.
“What?” Ross snapped into the phone startling both Asher and Ari’s attention back to him. “But it’s got to be there! Look again, this time harder!”
The words seized hold of Asher and he could barely move his chest to breath. In Ross’s words, all meaning sprung to life. He understood now. He understood all too clearly. Reaching over he took hold of Ari’s elbow and urged him toward the door. “I think it’s time we go. We’ve out stayed our welcome here.”
Ari looked confused as he glanced back and forth between Asher and the men on the other side of the room, of which none made an attempt to prevent them from leaving.
Pulling the phone away from his ear, Ross smiled. “Thanks for dropping by son. We’ll talk again soon, real soon.”
The words only fueled Asher’s rage, but there was no other choice, they had to go. Asher could feel his magic fading fast as sudden weakness washed over him. He stepped outside and caught Ari when he slipped on the ice but Asher wasn’t strong enough to hold him up, and they nearly went down together.
Using each other as leverage they managed to regain their footing and headed away from the entrance. Asher looked to the moon. The waxing crescent was one of the stronger moons and yet there was no strength there to comfort him. Even with shifting and the use of magic during the fight, the sudden drain of his power didn’t make sense.
Ross’s voice filtered out onto the quiet night as he continued his phone conversation inside. With the sensation of a million tiny needles pricking his skin awareness swept through Asher. They were being watched. Turning slowly around he discovered the strange man staring out a window in their direction.
The red glow emitting from the lifeless eyes proceeded to burn through a thin layer of frosted ice that had gathered on the windowpane, melting it into two thin streams of running water, and it was then Asher truly knew. He was feeding off his powers and at that point Asher wondered if the strange red aura had anything to do with that possibility.
Either way, Asher felt it, all the magic he stored up for the last ten years leaving as quickly as a plug pulled from a bathtub full of water. Soon he would have nothing left. Following Asher’s gaze, Ari let out a startled intake of breath as he noticed the man in the window.
“Wow, what a freak,” Ari took hold of Asher’s arm. “Let’s go.”
“Well that freak is draining my magic.”
“How is that possible?”
“I don’t know how, but I just know that’s what he is doing.” Asher was far too weak to shift but he knew he had to hurry. The weather had dropped considerably and Ari’s coat was still lying on the passenger’s seat of his car. They needed to get in out of the cold.
The snowmobiles were still in place and the strong smell of blood lingered on the wind. Asher scanned the area but there were no signs of any outcasts. Just like little Casin, if wounded it would
be too dangerous for them to shift back. Those that remained close by were recovering in the darkened shadows of the trees with no interest in them.
“Get on the back Ari.” Asher unbuckled and unzipped his parka while Ari thoughtfully watched.
“Asher, you don’t know how to drive.”
“Yes, so I’ve been reminded but you’re driving is what got you into this mess.”
“Oh so this is my fault?” Ari protested. “You stubborn unfeeling…I could have spent the night in a warm bed at the Plaza with some even warmer female company, but I know you all too well brother. See, I knew you would cancel the meeting for your annual appointment with Grant’s ghost, instead of facing reality and the truth of this rebellion. So I planned to brave hell or high water, or in this particular case, one hell of a snowstorm just to get there.” Ari waved his hand at the cabin. “But you can’t deny it now. It’s not that easy to overlook now, is it?”
“I didn’t overlook the matter Ari, I ignored the matter. There is a difference.”
“Oh, how could I be so stupid?” Ari scoffed. “You must forgive my ignorance.”
“No time now.” Asher draped his leg over the side of the snowmobile. “The owner left the keys behind so I suggest we leave.”
Ari climbed on in front of Asher, giving him no choice but to scoot out of the way. The loud roar of the motor filled the night as Asher wrapped his arms around Ari’s waist and pulled the coat around him the best he could. He pulled off his gloves and handed them over knowing that Ari’s hands would be left exposed on the handles. Ari didn’t refuse them, however with a worried brow he looked back at Asher.
“Can you hold on?” he asked.
“I’ll be all right. Just go. I fear I’ve made a horrible mistake.”
Ari thoughtfully looked toward the cabin and then without another thought, spun around, gunned the motor, and raced the snowmobile over the snow. An icy blast of wind hit Asher in the face, momentarily taking his breath away.
They had to get home…and soon.
Chapter Eight
All Fall Down
The long limbs of a weeping willow, heavy laden with ice, stretched down to the snow covered ground directly in front of them. The trees surrounded the east end of the lake and Nixon thought they resembled large ghosts with grasping arms. He couldn’t stop the anxiety, the rapid beating of his heart and breath that told him something was following after them. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw a shadow pass in the trees and brought the snowmobile to a sudden skidding stop, and then looked down the snowy embankment to the ice crusted lake below.
“Are you out of your mind?” Kennedy exclaimed, gripping his waist tighter. “Why are you stopping?”
Barely able to breathe, Nixon placed a hand over hers and loosened her fingers. Up until the point he nearly plunged them into the artic water, she had been keeping her hands in the pockets of his coat. “I sensed something. Can you pick up anything?” His eyes darted toward the trees. After a few deep breathes he twisted around to look at Kennedy, and her eyes automatically besought his.
“There’s nothing there that shouldn’t be there. What’s wrong Nix?” she asked. Nixon liked to play it tough but Kennedy knew him well enough to know when something was wrong. He weakly grinned at her.
“No one has called me that since Grant. Do you remember what he used to call us?”
“The dueling presidents.” She smiled and then let it fade. “Come on Nixon, what’s up? You’re acting all jittery. There’s no one coming after us.”
It wasn’t like Nixon to get emotional. But what he was currently going through wasn’t something his ego felt that he could explain. “Nothing’s wrong, I didn’t mean to scare you.” His gaze fell to where she carried both rats inside her coat. “How is the brat pack?”
“I’m not sure,” she shrugged, “at least they’re both warm.”
Smiling flirtatiously he said, “I would be too if I were inside your coat.”
Kennedy rolled her eyes and then tilted her nose upward and sniffed the wind. “I smell car exhaust on the wind. Linn must be close, come on we need to get the twins to her so she can get Casin to the doc. I’m worried about her.”
Nixon revved the motor and Kennedy wrapped her arms around his waist again. He liked the way her arms felt around him as they zoomed over the snow. The drive had yet to be plowed so Nixon bounced over a sizable snow drift and headed for the front gate. He geared down the motor and skidded recklessly to the right, yet again.
Kennedy shrieked behind him and laced her fingers together to stop from flying off. She was about to give him a good cussing, he could tell, when her words suddenly broke off. At that point he knew she had looked over his shoulder and seen the wolf too.
In the middle of the road the grey stood staring straight at them. Tipping its head back, the wolf howled a very lonely howl which sent strange vibes through Nixon.
“My jewel, its glowing Nixon,” Kennedy whispered. Nixon glanced over his shoulder. In the palm of her hand she held the blue jewel that she always wore around her neck, a gift from Grant, and a light clearly radiated from inside. At the sound of her gasping, he spun around to see Linn’s rented Yukon coming straight for them but there was no sign of the wolf.
***
The manor was dark, too dark. It had an ominous feel. Not even the light in his office was on—the one Asher refused to turn off, since he was surprised by the key seeking intruder. He climbed off the back of the snowmobile feeling stronger now that he was away from the strange magic draining man. He pushed Ari’s extended hand of assistance out of the way, and started walking in the direction of the door.
Midway there he stopped to examine prints left behind in the snow. There were none behind him just the ones a few feet from the porch where the fowlers had shifted and walked right up the steps. Their intentions were preplanned. They weren’t fleeing him back at the cabin. They knew that without him inside, Lake Manor was unprotected.
Screaming out in rage, Asher rushed the door and kicked it. The strength of the blow caused the door to bound off the wall and slammed shut once more. Ari stood close behind him. He put a hand on his arm. There was no point in waiting on Nixon and Kennedy now. Asher could sense that there was no one inside.
Pulling away from his brother, Asher stepped into the parlor. Furniture was overturned, a painting of him had been slashed several times across the face, and every artifact on display or hung, had been relieved of their positions, broken or shattered, and thrown to the ground.
Each room on the bottom floor was pretty much in the same disrepair, but Asher didn’t care much for anything on the first floor. He didn’t care about the antique heirlooms or the million dollar Ming vase lying in pieces upon the marble entry. Instead he headed for the stairs and started up. Near the top he stopped and clutched the wood banister until his knuckles became white. With each deep breathe he took, he searched for focus and strength but none came.
The sound of a snowmobile neared outside, and within seconds footsteps crunched over snow. Kennedy entered behind Nixon, her face ashen white and stricken with the same kind of shock that had incapacitated Ari the moment he stepped into the manor.
“Ari, I need you,” the words were spoken in silence but Ari all too clearly heard. Instantly without question, he dropped the remnants of the Ming vase, and started up after Asher.
Together they walked to the office only to stop once they stood on the threshold. Ari took in the wrecked office and slowly started across the room. The couch was on its side, the once locked drawers of the file cabinets were pulled out and the contents—important papers pertaining to Lake Inc. were emptied onto the mayhem that littered the floor.
Asher entered the room, stepping over the papers and the books that once lined the bookcases to reach the other side. Most of the books were first editions and should never be treated in such a manner. The majority of his belongings could be replaced, but it was the things that couldn’t that frightened h
im.
Smoke began to fill the room, something burned in the fireplace. As Nixon and Kennedy hurried to inspect what it was, Ari followed Asher inside the secret archives closet, where the history books pertaining to the Union were kept. The bookcase had been slid aside to expose its location, but unlike the chaos that had befallen his office, this room was untouched.
Ari ran a finger along a shelf that contained the most recent of volumes. “Even the dust is where we left it,” he commented.
“And yet someone has been here all the same.” Asher could feel it, a threat lingering on the stagnant air. He could sense the danger and the smell nauseated him.
“Someone threw Edgar Allan Poe in the fire and the flue was closed,” Kennedy announced from behind them, then after a somewhat surprised gasp continued in the same breath, “what is this place?”
“Wow, it’s the room of the ancient volumes, our history,” Nixon answered sounding just as surprised.
“I’ve been told of its existence since I was a girl,” Kennedy said, looking around, “but I never truly believed that it did—that in one room contained all the knowledge we could ever desire to know about us, about our history, and here it was all along.” Her gaze came to a rest accusingly on Asher.
“You didn’t know Kennedy,” Nixon retorted, “because despite the fact we are Pillar protégés the Council never believed us worthy or important enough to know—and what is that God awful smell?”
Asher had already deciphered the smell seconds before turning the corner but since they had yet to see the matter of his distress, he gestured over his shoulder. Allowing anyone to see his vulnerability wasn’t something he typically did, but then his current condition wasn’t exactly something Asher knew how to control.
The case that contained the Keeper’s creed was in the far corner of the room. A ray of moonlight shone through a meticulously ornate stained glass window which painted the room in an unnatural red and blue hue. The hair on the back of his neck pricked, goose bumps rose on the surface of his arms, and his heart began to race. With each beat and each step he took, Asher could feel his strength ebbing.