“I should have seen it coming the day those jackasses at the Thule Society asked me to leave. Even with no magic, I was better than them.”
“Karl, are you getting ready?” Martha called from the kitchen.
“Yes, dear. I’m going up now.”
The man rose and made his way to the staircase. Looking up the stairs he sighed and started up, one step at a time.
“Six years ago I took these three at a time,” Haushofer huffed. He hated his age, but not as much as he hated his loss of magic.
“I could have saved my son if I hadn’t lost my powers,” he said grimly, stopping on the fifth step to rest his aching knees. “I also would have taught those Thule idiots a thing or two. They should have been gassed.”
Saying his thought aloud reminded him that his ouster from the Thule Society also played a favorable role in his being exonerated of war crimes by Father Walsh.
‘That stupid priest. I think he believed everything I told him. I wonder—’
The thought was interrupted as he tripped on the last step. Catching himself, Haushofer paused for a moment to regain his balance. He then headed for the bath, resuming his thoughts about the man who exempted him from Allied retribution. ‘Father Walsh probably thinks the occult is evil and magic is nonsense. Oh, God, I’d give anything to show him just how wrong he is.’
Suddenly Haushofer stopped again, this time to smile and laugh aloud, “I suppose the secret to life is perspective and awareness. But then if one’s not aware of what lies beyond their perspective, what does it matter?”
“Karl, what’s so funny?” his wife called up the stairs.
“Nothing dear. Just remembering the relief I felt when the Allies set us free.”
“You were lucky. And you know it,” she shouted from below. “Now hurry up, they’ll be here any time now.”
***
The Kaufmanns were neither friends nor family. Apparently, they ran a start-up newspaper and were trying to make a name for themselves. Frankly, Karl wasn’t sure which city or country they were affiliated with. All he knew was that they had asked for an interview.
“Chance to reclaim a little fame,” he told himself.
Plus, they were bringing Irish whiskey. A favorite of Haushofer’s, which he hadn’t had in over a year. Likely it was the promise of the drink that had him ready and at the door when the knock came.
“General Haushofer?” the man asked, addressing Karl by his military title.
The man was tall and somehow familiar, and he was alone.
***
The interview went smoothly. The whiskey was divine and Kaufmann’s wife, who had something come up at the last minute, wasn’t missed.
“Well, sir, I want to thank you for all this wonderful information,” Kaufmann said as he stood to leave. “Oh, I almost forgot. I heard that you knew Rudolf Steiner.”
It was not a name Haushofer wanted to remember. But it had been twenty years. “Yes, I studied with him for a time.”
“So I understand,” Kaufmann politely acknowledged. Then, giving Haushofer a stern look, asked, “Does Martha know you poisoned him?”
Startled and enraged at the audacity of the man and his accusation, the German instinctively reached for a spell. When nothing happened, he feigned contempt for the man’s impudence.
Instead of responding to the German’s outrage, Kaufmann merely laughed saying, “So the witch’s story is true.”
“Whatever do you mean?” the old man sputtered.
“Perhaps it’s my turn to tell you my tale,” Kaufmann said, resuming his seat. ‘You see, truth be told, I have nothing to do with newspapers. My interest is solely in you, General.”
Taken aback, Haushofer found himself speechless.
Martha, on the other hand, wanted answers. “This is ridiculous! I thought Rudolf died of natural causes.”
“I’m afraid, dear lady, Steiner’s demise isn’t the only thing you’ve been kept in the dark about. But then you chose to live with a Nazi, and the consequences of such a choice are something you can’t fully blame on your husband.”
“Sir, it’s time you left,” Haushofer demanded.
“In due course, General,” Kaufmann smiled. “But first my tale. I’m sure you remember your bout with the dragon. Perhaps you also remember the man and woman who interfered?”
Haushofer didn’t move.
“Those young kids were special. Two months ago, the woman, whom I hadn’t heard from since the day you walked back into that barn, contacted me to tell me a story. It seems the dragon you tried to kill thought it time we knew what he did to you. Oh, by the way,” Kaufmann chuckled, “his name is Fetch.”
“What’s this about a dragon?” Martha asked incredulously.
“Your husband got it in his mind to force a magician to open a portal back to a time when dragons ruled this world.”
“That’s not possible—is it?” Martha looked questioningly at her husband.
“I’m afraid it is. You see, your husband wanted their magic, and I might add, the power that comes with it. Nothing mattered but the magic. Not the sanctity of the life of the magicians he tortured, nor the life of the dragon he tried to kill. But then that wasn’t the first time he thought to take a life for his own gain.
“The earliest I know about was Steiner. Unlike his previous teacher, Gurdjieff, Rudolf Steiner was a man who knew the true magicians. Unfortunately, Steiner was also a most trusting soul. He took Karl and Erik Hanussen under his wing, and the two killed him because of a few books about magic.
“Karl, of course, then turned on Erik. Besides those two, I know of a good fifteen to twenty men and one good woman your husband destroyed. So, I suppose killing a dragon didn’t seem like that big of a deal to him. How about it, Karl, any comment?”
Shaking with rage, the German didn’t respond.
“Anyway, back to the woman’s tale. Elizabeth, that’s what she calls herself, told me this story,” Kaufmann continued, but then stopped and turned to Haushofer with an aside. “She’s a witch you know.”
The German didn’t even blink.
CHAPTER 25
The Witchling’s Tale
“In forty-three, the Witch's Way from Warsaw to Finland became irrelevant. Fifty-six thousand humans either perished or were taken off to those slaughter houses the Nazis called camps. For the longest time, I couldn’t bring myself to go back.
“We saved many, but not nearly as many as I had hoped. That’s probably the reason Willow and Julia refused to go back. Since it was my idea, I knew I would have to dismantle the Way before someone stumbled upon the opening we placed in the Ghetto.
“That didn’t happen until June of last year. Starting in Warsaw, I went into the Way and closed the opening. From that point on, it was merely a matter of erasing the Way behind me as I walked to Finland.
“I assume you are familiar with a Witch’s Way. It spins through space in a clockwise fashion. It’s the spin that shortens the physical distance. Then again, the spin is also responsible for the traveler’s disorientation. It’s like walking in an amusement ride—one second your feet are on the floor, and the next you’re treading on the ceiling.
“Fortunately I have sea-legs. I was having no difficulty when suddenly the spin reversed itself and started going crazy. The walls lit up. Vacillating colors filled the space in front of me. With nothing behind me but solid rock, I had no choice. If I was going to get out, I had to move forward.
“As I stepped into that swirling rainbow, everything blinked out; it was pitch black. Forward or to the rear there was nothing but the absence of light. Then the black turned cold just before it spit me out.
“I found myself in the middle of a stand of giant trees, looking up into a noonday sky.
“Before I could adjust to the abrupt shift, a shadow came across the sky, a light flashed, and with a whoosh of wind, a dragon plunked down beside me.”
‘I hope I didn’t frighten you,’ a voice apologized.
/> ‘Fetch, it’s you! How did you find me?’
‘Gossamer has a special interest in her new friend.’
‘Is she with you?’
‘She is tending to the twins. But she wanted me to remind you that you two will have a chance to catch up soon.’
‘Twins … congratulations! Then it was you that brought me here.’
‘Gossamer insisted that you needed to know.’
“And with that, the dragon told me a part of the story that I didn’t know. It was from the time we had last been together.
“During the time Haushofer had Fetch imprisoned, Fetch simply wanted to kill the beast that had captured him. But then, after Fetch had regained his freedom, he realized his opportunity had passed. Everyone has the right to do most anything it takes to save themselves. But any other time, no one has the right to take a life.
“Besides, Fetch realized that killing Haushofer would merely release the German from his ill-chosen path. Fetch wanted the man, he called ‘the beast,’ to know the ramification of his greed and fear. A better revenge would be to let Haushofer experience the burden he heaped on so many others.
“That’s why, as Haushofer escaped, the gift that Fetch gave him was the curse of karma. For the past six years, that German has lived a life of failure, loss, and grief.”
***
“I suspect by now you know what you have done,” Kaufmann said as he finished the witchling’s tale.
“More whiskey?” Martha asked in a shaken tone.
Kaufmann gave the woman a smile, declining her offer with a shake of his head. He saw her disappear into the kitchen as he told her husband of the dragon’s curse. At the time, he guessed Martha’s purpose. But only when she returned did he know he had guessed correctly.
As the choice was hers to make, Kaufmann decided to merely question her resolve. “Are you sure?”
“Quite,” the woman replied.
“Well then, I suspect your husband could use a double,” Kaufmann said, supporting the woman’s decision.
Martha moved to her husband’s chair, and as the man raised his empty glass, poured a hefty shot for him.
“Drink up, dear,” she smiled, raising her glass to his as if in a toast.
Haushofer reacted automatically, downing the fluid in one gulp. With a conscious effort, Martha duplicated her husband’s action.
A moment later Kaufmann continued. “I suppose I have but one more thing to add. General Haushofer, I’m afraid I haven’t been all that honest with you and your dear wife. You see, I’ve come in disguise and have given you a false name.”
As he admitted his deception, Kaufmann’s body began to shimmer. In a matter of seconds, he became someone the old man instantly recognized.
“The magician,” he gasped.
“My name is Urik; though I doubt you would remember. That lad your feran killed—his name was Gregory. He was my son.”
“You’ve come to kill me?”
“I have thought long and hard on how best to torture you before I watched you die. But then as the time neared, it was the witch who gave me the answer. All I had to do is remind you of the truth. The last six years have shown you the reason you will die. Torture enough, I should think.”
Then turning to Martha, Urik asked, “Might it be best if he knew who killed him?”
Martha, looking exhausted, merely shrugged.
“I suppose it was the death of your son that tipped the scales.”
Again, she shrugged, then added a sad nod as well.
“Fear not, my lady. Death merely strips you of your burdens so that you can begin again,” Urik comforted her as he turned back to Haushofer.
“You, sir, have but one last thing to suffer. Your death is at the hands of one of the few people who loved you. Know that it was not done from malice. Grief and sadness have driven your wife to her choice. But at the same time, Martha needs no forgiveness. Hers was just the last nail in the coffin that the dragon put you in.
“But enough, I find I no longer have a need to watch. You and your deeds shall be forgotten,” Urik promised before turning to Martha. “My lady, what you have done will not end pleasantly. May I offer you my assistance?”
In obvious pain, Martha nodded. The Lantian then walk over to her and gently lifted her off her chair.
“It will be quick,” he promised. Then, carrying her to the top of the stairs, he attached a cord to the chandelier, and whispering, “God speed,” in her ear, he released her.
Neither cord nor chandelier gave as the woman’s neck snapped her to beyond the veil.
The Lantian then returned to Haushofer.
He watched him for a moment then said, “The witch explained how the dragons fly, how their magic works. The funny thing is, from what she told me, you have had that ability within you all along. It’s within all cells.”
“Impossible,” the old man managed to choke out.
“About as impossible as what the dragon did to you, I suppose. As you escaped back to this time, he planted doubt within your being. In that way, not only would you never be able to learn the secret of magical flight, but you also lost everything else that you thought of as magic … and probably many other things besides.
“But now, my dear General, you will get to experience that magic just as the dragons do—when your spirit is set free from the doubt with which your mind has held it captive.”
Urik turned and started to walk away. Behind him, Haushofer groaned, his body curling up in pain. Urik hesitated, then turned back to the general. After a moment of watching Haushofer, he spoke to him. “I thought I would revel in this moment.” He shook his head, then walked back Haushofer’s chair. Urik reached out and touched index and middle finger to the general’s third eye. Haushofer gave a soft sigh and slumped into his chair.
Urik slowly turned to leave.
“Fly well, General,” he whispered. “Fly well.”
POSTSCRIPT
In 1941, Rudolf Hess flew himself to England in hopes of negotiating an alliance between England and Germany. He was immediately arrested and placed in solitary confinement, where he remained for four years.
When the war ended, the court of justice at the Nuremberg Trials sentenced Hess to life imprisonment at Spandau Prison.
Again, he was placed in solitary confinement.
In 1986, after years of keeping the prison open for their one and only prisoner, Rudolf Hess, the governments involved arrived at an agreement. Rudolf Hess would be released, and Spandau would be shut down.
In 1987, before his release took place, it was reported that Rudolf Hess committed suicide. He was ninety-three years old.
Shortly after, the prison was demolished.
In 1988, six months after his death, the body of Rudolf Hess was finally buried.
All of which begs the question—Why was this man hidden away for forty-five years?
Could it be that he had a story to tell that those in power did not want to be told? The man had learned magic from his professor. Had Haushofer also passed on the knowledge about the beings living among us? Who was it that put Hess behind bars? Who was it that prevented his return to society? And finally, why did it take six months to bury his corpse?
J CAMERON BOYD
A doctor for thirty plus years, J Cameron Boyd got into the book business somewhat accidentally. It began with a quest to write a health orientated how-to book. His intention was to finish that project and then go back to seeing patients.
After resolving his initial difficulties with typing, grammar, and spelling, he found that writing was a passion. The deliciousness of storytelling opened him to a whole new world of imagination. It was a world that expanded his awareness in ways he never thought possible. It was also a world he realized he wanted to share.
Boyd’s revelation kept leading him back to the computer. Several books later and with many more demanding to be typed, he figured it was about time he shared what he had written with the rest of the world.
The Legacy of Lantis series is the first of his many tales to be released. As it is with the first in that series, The Prophecy, they will all be fun, exciting, and thought-provoking, and almost always, an entirely new take on many of life’s seemingly unanswerable questions.
Watch for Boyd’s new releases at jcboyd.com
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Many thanks, J CAMERON BOYD
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Spirit of the Dragon
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
POSTSCRIPT
J CAMERON BOYD
Table of Contents
Spirit of the Dragon
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
POSTSCRIPT
J CAMERON BOYD
Spirit of the Dragon: A Story of Magic, a Witch, and the Third Reich Page 17