by Ward Parker
“Thanks for picking me up,” she said.
“My pleasure. I’m glad to. Gives me time to discuss more of what you found out.”
“Bob said I have to wear a blindfold?”
“Yep. But not until we get out of downtown.”
“Okay. Thank you for allowing a non-member to go to your Guild Hall.”
“It’s not our Guild Hall. It’s one of our facilities we use for, er, special occasions like this.”
They were silent until they crossed Flounder Creek.
“Time to put the blindfold on.” Wendall handed her a black linen hood.
She pulled it on, covering her entire head. The claustrophobia was instant.
“You know, I’ve been a Guild member for most of my adult life,” Wendall said. “Joined just before I was thirty. I was a successful lawyer, married, with a small child. I’d dabbled with magic since college, and it was just a game to me. But when I was only thirty, my legal career just barely begun, I already knew something was missing.”
He paused. Missy didn’t say anything. She felt too claustrophobic to waste her breath saying something that would barely pass through the heavy hood.
“Regular human life—making money, buying bigger homes, becoming a partner in the firm, maybe going into politics—seemed so empty to me. Because I had tasted magic. Just a taste, mind you. But it showed me a whole other world was out there.”
The car jolted as they went over railroad tracks. Missy had no idea where they were.
“Then I met Tommy. Tommy Albinoni. He was a forensic accountant our firm frequently hired. We had drinks one night, and the topic of magic came up. He’d sampled a taste of it, too. A deep drink of it, in fact. He was hooked, and what he told me convinced me to learn more. He taught me a lot of nifty stuff. And some scary stuff. He introduced me to other witches and wizards. This other world I had only glimpsed kept getting larger and larger. And more fascinating. More addicting.”
The car stopped at a light or stop sign, then resumed.
“I went on to study with a master wizard. And mind you, this was while I worked twelve-hour days at the law firm and had a family and a home. But I finally achieved accreditation and joined the Magic Guild.
“You’re probably wondering what I did with my magic,” he continued. “Did I use it to help me in my day job? Oh, a bit here and there. But I was a corporate lawyer, not a defense lawyer. I didn’t need to perform miracles.”
He chuckled.
“Well, that’s how I got into magic. It was a passion that gave my life meaning. Nothing more.”
The car stopped again. Then Missy felt the vibrations of a dirt road beneath the tires.
“My wife got sick. My son was grown and off in Dallas, living his own life. It was just me and Becky. She was diagnosed with stage-four leukemia. That’s when I turned to magic to help me.”
Missy was worried about where this was going.
“I knew there was powerful magic that could heal cancer and other serious diseases. But no one in San Marcos seemed to know it. I was at the darkest level of despair. Until Louis let me in on a secret. He and some members of the Guild had been experimenting with black magic. They’d been looking for extremely powerful stuff, and black magic was where they found it. Black magic offered a cure to save Becky.”
Missy finally interrupted.
“Black magic doesn’t heal. My mother can’t heal her kidneys with it.”
“No, it doesn’t heal,” Wendall said. “It turned back the clock to before she was sick. It altered the time-matter continuum. Sure, we had to sell our souls to use it. But it worked. Becky suddenly went into remission. My hopes and prayers were answered.”
Oh, my, Missy thought. This was truly distressing to hear this man she so respected had taken the dark path.
“Of course, my wife was taken by the cancer five years later. And all of us who tried black magic were under the spotlight. Your mother was banished. Tommy was caught and had to repent.”
He cleared his throat.
“You understand, you weren’t supposed to be able to read all the entries in the record books I showed you. The sensitive parts were encrypted by magic. I was shocked you had a spell to decipher them.”
The encryption on the books was weak and sloppy, as if it had been done as a mere formality. Missy hadn’t thought twice about decrypting them with a bit of magick.
“So, I never thought it would come to this, Missy. You’re a good witch and a good woman. But we can’t allow the integrity of the Guild to be destroyed by word of this getting out. It would destroy poor Tommy, so near the end of his life. And me, I was the one who assigned him to investigate your mother. Of course, Tommy whitewashed it all. He had no choice. To find her guilty would bring all of us down. Bring the entire Guild down, too.”
“What are you trying to say?” Missy said in a muffled voice.
“I know you haven’t mentioned anything about Tommy to Bob yet. And I won’t let you do so. I’m sorry it must be this way. I need to protect us in the twilight years of our lives. And protect the Guild.”
Missy grabbed the door handle. It was locked and sealed with magic.
20
A Reputation of Integrity
Missy pulled the hood from her head. No need for it now, once she realized they weren't going to the Guild's secret facility. She inhaled deeply, finally free of the stifling cloth.
Yet unable to flee this old wizard who intended to kill her.
Wendall placed a binding spell on her immediately after she yanked the hood off. An unseen force pulled her arms to her sides and her hands to her thighs. Her legs clamped together. Her head was the only part of her that could move.
The car drove down a country road in total darkness. There were no streetlights and very little moonlight. The road was flanked by thick forests that gave way to fields and pastureland. Occasionally, a front porch light shone from houses set far back from the road. And then the road would be swallowed by trees again.
“You don’t have to kill me, Wendall,” she said in the calmest voice she could muster. “I won’t tell Bob about you and Tommy and Eliza-May. I really don’t care about what you guys were doing over forty years ago. I only wanted to know who killed my father. Now that I have my answer, I couldn’t care less about the Magic Guild.”
“You don't understand how important it is for us to have a reputation of integrity,” Wendall said, as if he were explaining to a child. “When you spend your life studying ancient traditions, and then you near the end of your life, you realize the only thing that will live on are the traditions you created. And the reputation you’ve built.”
“Who cares if you played around in black magic?”
“I didn't play around. I sold my soul to keep Becky alive. Now, I have an enormous debt to pay in Hell. The reputation I leave behind on earth is all that keeps me from utter despair.”
“But— “
“You're not listening.” It was the first time she had ever heard Wendall’s voice grow angry. “By practicing black magic, we betrayed the gift of true magic. You’re a nurse. It’s as if you turned your purpose to deliberately killing patients. Would you say that’s not a big deal? That you could return to being a proper nurse and no one would care?”
“Don’t compare murder to what you did. You didn’t kill anyone. And you don’t need to tonight.”
“You’re wrong. I have killed a few innocent individuals. And I’ll do it again tonight. Don’t worry. I’ll make it painless. As long as you don’t fight me, you won’t suffer.”
Missy didn't answer. She needed to concentrate on magic to defeat the binding spell.
Her hopes sank as she probed the energies around her in the car. Aside from the binding spell, the heaviness of other magic hung in the air. She couldn’t tell what spells they were, but it was clear that Wendall had backups in case she broke the magic binding.
He was officially retired as a wizard. But this man still knew his stuff. No l
onger in his prime, he was nevertheless a more powerful magician than her.
They rode in silence. A yellow light appeared ahead, and Wendall pulled over into the entrance to a park of some sort.
A sign said, “Lake Paul State Park.” Locked gate arms blocked the entrance. Wendall waved a hand. The padlock dropped from the gate, and the arms swung open inward.
Missy could have done that, too, with her magick. But it would have taken a lot more time and effort.
Wendall drove the car along a winding dirt road through the darkened park, passing picnic tables and trail heads. They went through a parking lot and then pulled up to a boat launch: two concrete ramps sloping into the water with a wooden dock in between.
“Are you going to drown me?” Missy asked in panic.
“You’re going to drown yourself. It will look like suicide. But don’t worry, I promise you won’t suffer.”
Missy tried creating a sleeping spell to disable Wendall. Halfway through the process, it simply fell apart. Wendall’s magic defenses were too strong and extensive.
As a practitioner of white magick, Missy had always concentrated on spells of healing or protection, not offensive spells for attacking. She desperately searched her mind for something that could stop Wendall.
He climbed from the driver’s seat. As he closed the door behind him, Missy made a thrust of power. The door snapped back open and hit the old man, knocking him backwards onto the dirt.
She tried to free herself, but the binding spell held.
“I won’t blame you for trying your best,” Wendall said, as he stood up and brushed off his pants.
He closed the door again and walked around the front of the car.
Missy released the parking brake and rolled the car forward. But not quickly enough. Wendall easily got out of the way. With her hands bound to her thighs, she couldn’t touch the power charm in her pocket. Yes, it touched her leg through the fabric, but she couldn’t get enough extra energy to propel the car more quickly. Plus, Wendall’s magic hung over her like a cloak, stymieing everything she tried to do.
The car continued rolling and was finally picking up speed. Unfortunately, it was headed for the boat ramp, and she couldn’t free the locked steering wheel fast enough to prevent the car from going into the lake with her trapped inside.
Defeated, she reengaged the parking brake.
“I admire your spirit,” Wendall said, walking up to her door and opening it. “Come along now. Let’s get this over with.”
He intoned silent words and waved his hands over her.
An inexorable force took control of her muscles, moving her legs from the car, and forcing her body upright. Her arms still bound to her side, she marched awkwardly toward the water like a zombie.
“It was nice knowing you, Missy. May you rest in peace.”
Suddenly, her heart stopped racing, and her adrenaline faded. She no longer was in absolute panic. This calmness wasn’t her doing. Wendall controlled it.
She lurched toward the water. Her running shoes filled with water. It was cool, not cold. Then her ankles became immersed as she slowly descended the ramp.
But she wasn’t frightened at all. Whatever Wendall had done to her mind made her look forward to being fully immersed, to breathe the water into her lungs in the peaceful depths of the lake.
As her knees went under, she almost slipped on some algae. But the force that controlled her kept her upright and marching along.
The water rose to her waist. To her chest. Then the ramp ended, and she dropped.
When her head went under, a vestigial part of her survival instincts took over. She held her breath. And she made one last, desperate attempt to save herself.
She sensed a living creature nearby. The bulk of a large alligator lying on the bottom of the lake.
She probed its primitive lizard brain. And commanded it to rise.
Something solid pressed up against the soles of her feet as she floated in the water. It was the alligator’s back. As it rose slowly, she stood upon it until it pushed her high enough that her head crested the surface.
She turned her head with difficulty. Hidden in the dock’s shadow, she believed Wendall couldn’t see her. He stood, staring sadly at the lake. If he wanted to watch her die, he surely had the magic to do so, but hopefully, he didn’t want to.
Her limited control of the gator felt unsteady. She didn’t have enough power to maintain it much longer, and she was still paralyzed by the binding spell.
Ronnie, she cried in her mind, help me, please.
She repeated it over and over. Maybe the fact she was psychically connected now with the alligator helped, because he quickly answered, How can I help?
I’m being drowned in a lake by a wizard gone bad. I’m standing on the back of an alligator, but I can’t control it much longer. And the wizard still has me trapped in a binding spell. Please get me out of this mess. See through my eyes. Hear through my ears. Please help.
The gator beneath her feet rose closer to the surface and moved toward the dock. She allowed herself to fall off and land atop the planks.
Wendall had turned around and begun walking back to his car. He must have figured she was a done deed by now.
His hearing wasn’t too good at his age. The scraping sounds of claws and armored tails on the concrete didn’t make him look behind him.
The nine alligators, big ones, moved quickly up both boat ramps on either side of the dock where Missy lay. She was surprised how fast they ran. And how tactical they were in their lizard brains, circling around to the right and left in a pincer movement to cut him off from his car.
Missy didn’t know what kind of spell Wendall would have to fight off alligators. Because he didn’t have the chance to use one.
He only had time to emit a small scream, more like a squeal.
Missy regained use of her limbs shortly thereafter. But she stayed where she was. She didn’t want to attract the gators’ attention while they were in feeding mode.
Wendall had seemed like such a kindly old man, a sweet grandfatherly type. And he’d been a fabled wizard. It was a shame he’d gone down the evil path, even if he had tried to correct his course afterwards. He’d made the kind of short-sighted decisions so many of us make, even the non-magical among us, when we choose to bend the rules or turn our backs on goodness to embrace the convenient advantage of the more powerful.
Missy had to wait for an hour for all the alligators to return finally to the lake and disappear below the surface.
Thank you, Ronnie, she said.
Wendall had left the car keys in the ignition, so she didn’t have to remove them from a pocket of what was left of his jeans. She could have driven in his car back to San Marcos, but that would have been bending the rules and taking the easy way out. Instead, she stayed in the park and called 911 about a failed kidnapping that went terribly wrong for the kidnapper.
The next day, she found Bob in the office of his surf shop.
“Whoa, that is so jacked up,” he said after she told him everything she knew about Wendall, Tommy Albinoni, and Eliza-May.
“I never would have thought Wendall had taken the dark path,” he said.
“I’m so disappointed in him. Not just for that, but for trying to kill me.”
“Yeah, that would be a bummer. But I guess he got the punishment he deserved. Dude, gators! I wouldn’t want to die that way.”
“It was fast. He didn’t suffer for long.”
Bob closed his eyes and shuddered.
“Tell me how it went with my mother,” she said.
“Kinda like I told you it would. Like an exorcism with all the screaming and cursing. She’s neutralized now. Won’t cause trouble for anyone anymore.”
“Is she okay?”
“No one hurt her.”
“I mean mentally?”
“That chick never was right in the head in my book. She’s not a happy camper right now, that’s for sure. But my crew returned her to h
er motel all in one piece. Do you want to visit her?”
“No,” Missy said. “I can’t face her right now. I’ve got some thinking to do.”
Two weeks later, Missy did see her birth mother. It turned out she came to visit Missy. Unannounced, of course.
21
Special Treatment
“Ruth?” Missy said after she answered the doorbell.
“Call me by my real name from now on. Are you going to let me in or not?”
“Yes, of course. Come in. You’re not here to kill me, are you?”
“No. My magic’s gone,” Ophelia said, choking back tears. “I’m just the shell of the person I used to be. No longer a deadly sorceress. Just an old lady.”
“I don’t miss the deadly part,” Missy said, leading her guest into the living room and pointing to the most comfortable chair. “Can I get you some water or tea?”
“Get me a beer and get it quick.”
Missy hurried into the kitchen. She always kept some of the beers Matt enjoyed in her fridge, so she opened a bottle and popped her head in the living room.
“Do you want it in the bottle or a glass?”
“A bottle, not a can? Aren’t we fancy? I never drink beer out of a glass unless it’s from a keg. Just give me the bottle.”
Missy complied. She tried not to stare, but she was shocked how her mother had aged since she last saw her. She looked weak and shrunken. White roots showed in her black-dyed hair. She sat sagging in the chair, defeated by life. Was it her loss of magic, her kidney disease, or both?
“Are you well, Ophelia?”
“Do I look well? No, I’m not. I’m at death’s door. I need a kidney soon.”
“Is that why you’re here?”
“Stealing organs from society’s voiceless hasn’t worked very well for me.”
Missy had evolved closer to deciding to give her mother a kidney. But then, she found another solution that, if it worked, would be better than surgery for both of them and less risky for a person of Ophelia’s age and health. And it would free Ophelia from spending the rest of her life taking immunosuppressant drugs to prevent her body from rejecting the transplanted kidney.