Wizard War

by Sheryl Steines

  “Next stop,” Lial quipped. Gibbs wrapped his arms around Annie, propelling her through space and landing her beside the prison wing door.

  The security desk was manned by a sleeping guard who lay with his pin on his cheek. Annie and Gibbs exchanged glances. Lial shrugged as Annie checked the guard’s pulse. It was strong, his breathing even.

  “He okay?” Gibbs impatiently asked.

  “Yeah.” Annie donned a glove and felt under the desk for the button to let them in.

  The door quickly shot inside the thick stone wall. While Lial waited to let them back through, Annie and Gibbs ran down the corridor, felt the pulse of the second security guard slumped across the desk, and pushed the next button. The doors clattered and clanged as they slid through the wall.

  For his assistance in the case, Sturtagaard had been granted a small amount of freedom and was no longer tethered to the wall or required to wear the collar around his neck, though Annie could see the flashing of the ankle bracelet he still wore under his blood-soaked black pants.

  Sturtagaard glared when they reached his cell. “Everything done?” the vampire inquired. Gibbs ran his palm against the cell lock. It clicked open and slid into the groove that ran into the stone wall. Sturtagaard strolled from the cell; he grimaced as he turned away from Gibbs. The vampire held his hands behind his back as Gibbs tied his hands together with a magical rope, so tight that if Sturtagaard had circulation, it would have stopped.

  “So I’m going to the States?” Sturtagaard asked.

  “Yeah. You’re going to the States.” Gibbs’s grip on the vampire’s upper arm was tight. Though the vampire cringed, he let himself be dragged down the hall.

  “Lial come with me,” Annie ordered. They left Gibbs at the prison entrance, and traversed the staircase up to the minimum security wing. There, the security guard had fallen near his desk, slumped against the wooden side with his head rolled forward. They raced to the fallen man. Lial felt for a pulse, opened an eyelid, and searched for a concussion.

  “I think he’s fine. You get Louis.”

  Annie ran for the nonmagical’s cell. When she arrived, Louis Van Alton was tossing fitfully in his sleep.

  She waved her palm at the door. It rattled as it flew inside the wall.

  Louis jerked awake, his eyes wide and scared.

  “You’re free to go,” Annie said.

  “Just like that?” he yawned.

  “We’re making it so the French Wizard Guard won’t remember us or you. Amelie is dust, and we need you out of here for this to work. Mess with vampires again or reveal this secret, and we will deal with you,” Annie warned.

  Though I really don’t care what happens to Louis Van Alton.

  “We’ll take you out and then you go where you want,” she added as he cautiously pulled himself from the cot.

  Annie didn’t wait for him to make a decision; she turned and headed out. Louis stumbled after her, trying to match her speed.

  “What will I do? Where will I go?” Louis whined.

  “It doesn’t matter. Just stay far away from here and you’ll be fine,” Annie responded.

  Lial received them at the entrance to the prison wing, where the security guard now lay across his desk. Louis, not privy to the plan, seemed terrified by the sight. He glanced from the security guard to Annie and Lial and back again.

  “What did you do?” he asked and backed away.

  “They’re alive and fine. I told you we made it so no one will know any of us were here,” Annie assured him.

  “Will you do that to me?” he asked cautiously.

  “Only if you make problems for us,” Annie responded. They entered the hall.

  “I want to verify the security guard in the front is okay. We’ll leave by the elevator,” Annie ordered. They struggled to catch up to her as she ran to the front entrance, opened the door, and peered into the reception area.

  Francois was splayed across his desk, saliva dribbling from his open mouth to the desktop.

  She slipped inside and checked for a pulse. “He’s good. Let’s go,” Annie said and pulled on Louis’s arm, leading him from the reception area and into the final hallway.

  “Everything else okay?” Gibbs asked as he pushed the elevator button.

  As it was now 6:30 a.m., the elevator came quickly when summoned. The doors squeaked open and Annie nudged Louis inside. They were followed by Lial, who maintained a tight grip on the vampire.

  When they were all inside, Gibbs smacked the button. Annie opened the window beside them just enough to teleport through. She wrapped her arms around Louis Van Alton, and when she saw the light of day, she teleported the nonmagical home.

  Chapter 32

  When Annie woke, it was with a soft flutter in a semi darkened room; the sunlight poked around the shades like a halo.

  She let herself wake slowly, without the pressure to be somewhere or to track something or be responsible for anything other than herself. She had one day before she had to return to work to wrap up her case, to determine who was responsible for Princess Amelie’s murderous trek through Europe.

  But laughter and very distinct voices came from the den, giving Annie more reasons for pulling herself out of bed.

  The house smelled good. After all the vacation food, she was looking forward to something else.

  “Hi,” she said quietly to Zola, who was whipping up something that looked like an omelet. Annie’s mouth watered. She pulled her arms around Zola and sunk her face against the back of her hair.

  “Hi, dear. Janie and Dave are in the den,” Zola said as she poured the eggs in the sizzling pan.

  “I can’t come and say hi?” Annie joked. She took a light whiff of Zola’s golden blonde hair. It smelled fresh like flowers. It was warm and cozy.

  “Go rest,” Zola persuaded. “I’m fine.” She turned and showed Annie her newly restored wings. They fluttered wildly, creating a fresh breeze.

  “I just want to make sure you’re better,” Annie said. She kissed her friend on the cheek and headed toward the sound of laughter.

  “Well, there she is,” Dave said. His grin was wan and worried.

  Janie hoped up from the sofa. “We’ve been so worried. How do you feel?” She hugged Annie and led her to the sofa where Cham sat.

  “You know I’ve been walking for over twenty years. I’m really good,” Annie chided. She reached for a roll and took a bite before sliding against the sofa back.

  “So you finally got the vampire. We heard you had to go in. There’s still things to do?” Janie asked.

  Annie closed her eyes as she chewed. She wanted very much to lie still in bed, tucked in Cham’s arms. Instead, she felt his arm slide around her shoulders, protectively, lovingly. He kissed the top of her head.

  “Just wrap-up,” Annie said simply. She opened her eyes and stared at her friends. Sometimes she envied them, merely on the edge of the danger, looking in. Annie wished she had the luxury to only know some things.

  “That’s ridiculous. Make Spencer finish,” Janie said.

  Annie chuckled.

  “We thought if you were free we could go out this weekend. It’s been awhile,” Dave suggested. Annie’s eyes popped open.

  “If I’m not asleep, we’ll talk,” she said.

  *

  The familiar clacking of the keyboard was comforting to Annie. As exhaustion gripped her, she leaned against Bucky’s desk for support.

  Always the multitasker, Bucky typed while he summoned a chair for her; the wheels squealed as it rolled across the floor. Annie grabbed the back before it hit the metal desk. All through this action, Bucky hadn’t lost his focus while he loaded a USB drive for her.

  “Thanks, Bucky.” Annie slumped in the chair and watched as he finished downloading tapes.

  “I rearranged the tapes from your stay. Everyone’s been removed. With a little hocus pocus, it looks like a normal day in Wizard Hall.” If he was tired from the extra hours, it didn’t show in his face or his dem
eanor.

  He probably enjoyed this!

  “So about the other thing?” Annie asked. Before leaving France, she had managed to text him a special request. Bucky smiled.

  “Well, as you requested, here’s a combined tape of Marielle. She’s directly under that rod. It looks like she’s performing several spells. I ran the dates from the tapes to the dates of the deaths for all of Amelie’s murders. You were right, Annie; she hid her activities. Marielle was the mastermind.” Bucky handed Annie the USB drive. “You going forward with the case?”

  “If I can amass enough data, yeah. I will. Marielle isn’t fit to be a guard. Thanks again for all of this.”

  “Eh. You always give me the greatest projects. No problem. Oh, I’m still scrubbing the internet for the newest pictures of Amelie. She really did a good job hiding herself. I think she just happened to get caught that once.” Bucky added.

  “Fair enough. Let me know if anything else weird pops up.” Annie waved goodbye and headed home for a few hours of sleep.

  *

  The American Wizard Hall buzzed with news of Amelie’s resurrection and the death of the queen. Little did they know that Annie had more for them.

  “Hey, Manny,” she said to the day shift security guard.

  “You’re the talk of the hall,” he exclaimed.

  “Awesome.” Annie grimaced. The memory modification spell still weighed on her; she wished to avoid people and the questions that would come when she revealed her secret.

  After saying goodbye to Manny, she turned into the first stairwell after the reception checkpoint and took the little-used back hallways and staircase to the fifth floor.

  The Wizard Guard department was in the middle of a maze of cubicles; she had no choice but to trek through the crowded passageways. Even in hushed tones, the conversations were unmistakable; employees discussed and debated expected procedural changes on all magical deaths, Amelie’s resurrection, and her murdering her mother. If they caught a glance at Annie, they stopped speaking or started whispering, as if that would keep Annie from knowing what and whom they were discussing. It wasn’t the first time this happened to her, and she knew it wouldn’t be the last. She did her best to ignore them and their talk and was grateful for the safety of her cubicle.

  It was electric in the hall today as if they all knew something big was coming. The din buzzed around Annie’s cubicle. She sighed and glanced at the wall where her Wizard Council robe hung, neatly cleaned and pressed. The heavy black wool was lined in green velvet; a Wizard Council crest was secured in the upper left side above her heart. Though it was soft to the touch, it was incredibly hot inside.

  And only good for wearing in a blizzard.

  She patted the robe in anticipation.

  Annie was a member of the Wizard Council, the government body which oversaw the wizard community. It consisted of wizards from all walks of wizard life, who came to the Council in a variety of ways. Some were appointed to the council after promotions to department manager or a higher rank within Wizard Hall. Others were invited to the Council after achieving a high rank in their field of study. For Annie, that was her path to the council: she had been invited after earning the title of Potion Master, a distinction she’d achieved after years of study and passing an incredibly difficult test.

  She draped the robe over her close-fitting suit and zipped it up, hiding the zipper under the fancy flap. She pulled out the rich, green collar and fit it around her neck, tucking it inside.

  Glancing at herself in the small mirror on the wall, she straightened the collar and smoothed down her hair as she placed a thin, conical hat on her head. It was so stereotypical, something you might see on a Halloween costume. The very image of her in the hat made her gag. However, she understood the significance of the traditional hat; the conical shape represented grounding to the magic.

  “Ready?” Cham asked. He wiped his sweaty palms against the newly pressed and received robes. This would be his first Wizard Council meeting, as he had just been promoted to assistant manager and received admittance to the council.

  Maybe he’s just extremely warm.

  “All set.” Annie chuckled. She took his hand and led him to the staircase to the private Wizard Council Sanctuary on the third floor.

  Only one room took up the entire third floor of the Executive Wing, and it was only accessible by the appropriate security clearance.

  Cham had never been to the sanctuary, and Annie had been unable to describe it, let alone speak of it because of the many secret rules and codes that came with Wizard Council membership, much to Cham’s chagrin. He let her lead him to the stairwell, where a log jam of wizards waited for admittance.

  “It’s busy,” Cham whispered, though others wouldn’t have heard him. Voices grew loud with anticipation, anxious to enter the chamber.

  “It takes time to, you know, read everyone’s magic,” she joked as the next wizard cast a spell into the security box beside the door. The magical box interpreted the magic, and those with the proper clearance were admitted when the door swung open.

  After several slow-moving minutes, Annie held her palm to the hand-carved box to the right of the door. After so many meetings in this special place, she was well familiar with the ancient Viking symbol at the center of the box. The Valknut—three interlocking triangles with nine points—represented rebirth, pregnancy, and cycles of reincarnation. For the original Viking/English coven that started the Wizard Council, the Valknut represented their rebirth after a war that nearly decimated their numbers. In that, they had come to America to start over.

  Annie cast her spell; the box took less than a second to recognize her magic and the door slid open letting her through and closing immediately after her. She waited patiently in the foyer for Cham to join her. He appeared almost immediately.

  “So this is what you couldn’t tell me?” Cham asked. She shrugged and led him from the antechamber into a large theater.

  Awestruck, Cham’s eyes darted from one end of the hall to the other. Large, cushioned seats rose upwards. The highest seats were hidden in the shadows as the low, dim light concentrated on the square floor at the bottom of the auditorium.

  Permanent thin tables sat in front of the chairs, nameplates gleaming at the edge of the tables, visible only to those who sat in the row below them.

  Every member had assigned seats, designated by their rank but in most cases determined by the department in which the wizard worked. Cham followed Annie to the far side of the auditorium, where the Wizard Guard resided.

  Today, but not always, three wooden podiums were placed on the hardwood floor at the west end of the stadium. Several feet behind the podiums, a large screen hung from the ceiling. In between the two, a large chair was framed by the screen. The throne like chair of heavy dark wood cradled a soft cushion at the center, waiting for Ryan to take his place.

  “Wow!” Cham said.

  “Sorry. It’s the oath,” Annie said, though she knew he knew this. She stepped up on the first stair. “This way.”

  Milo, already at his seat, was perusing an ancient Wizard Council book, one of the hundreds of identical books that had been placed at each seat and never removed. The thick tome rested in his lap and lay opened to page 1455, today’s agenda. “Gibbs with you?” he asked without looking up.

  “No. Sorry.” Annie took her seat at the end of the row. Cham found his seat beside Milo. Gibbs scooted in behind the chairs, finding his chair between Annie and Cham. Gibbs pulled his long, stringy hair into a ponytail before placing the conical hat on his head and securing his green collar around his neck.

  The stadium, less than half full when they arrived, filled quickly, from the newest members to the oldest. Many members had been there for over fifty years—once you were admitted to the Wizard Council, the only way you left was by death.

  Tonight, the room was subdued, the council members lost in their own thoughts, the gravity of the case weighting on everyone

  The meeting
, set for 7:00 p.m., started at exactly 7:00 p.m., when Ryan entered the room and took a seat.

  The microphone buzzed and cracked when Ryan switched it on. The speakers blared the sound across the large space. He cleared his throat. “Thank you for your attendance this evening. As you know, the American Wizard Guard has been in contact with the Amborix Witches Council and the French Wizard Guard for the purposes of catching Princess Amelie, who, to our dismay, was turned to a vampire. With that in mind, Milo Rawley and Anne Pearce will offer an update on the situation. Anne, Milo, please.” He motioned for them to come to the central floor where the podiums faced Ryan and the Executive Council that flanked Ryan on either side.

  Milo shuffled papers in the folder he placed on the podium, lowered the microphone, and began. “Anne Pearce received a package from, at the time, an unknown source, informing her that Princess Amelie was still alive. After reviewing the case records, Anne Pearce and her team verified that the death was caused by the magical death jinx. As part of standard procedure, they examined the body for the obvious signs of a vampire attack. During that investigation, vampire tracks were not discovered, and it was determined that Amelie was killed by a magical jinx. We believe she probably received a bite inside the hairline under the hair. This simple nondetection will change the procedure for all magical deaths. We are instituting a policy to verify all magical deaths with the use of holy water. This will detect any sleeping vampires before they can wake. The policy is on the board for review and approval tonight.”

  Paper rustled as the entire Wizard Council opened the ancient tomes. These books stayed at each assigned seat and belonged to the current owner of the chair. When necessary, pages could be added or deleted with a well-placed spell over the control book that was kept by the Wizard Council secretary Mrs. Cuttlebrink, the manager of library services.

  Pages flipped as the members read the evidence, the police reports, the autopsy report—the entire case file had been inserted into the books. As they read, pens scratched against the ancient paper as some members scratched feverishly; whether their answer was yay or nay, they wanted their thoughts read and noted.