Hank took three quick steps and leaped for the rooftop. Unlike his friend in a broken heap below, Hank was a fighter with better-than-average reflexes. He found his feet and scrambled up the pitched roof.
“Shit!” Parker yelled, feigning concern. He took off toward the other edge.
The rooftop chase that had begun at Leroy’s would end on the other side of town. There was a place he and Hannah used to hang out to split their spoils when the weather was too bad for Capitol Park. But their lair didn’t last; years of inclement weather and neglect made the condemned building so decrepit that it was dangerous to squat there even for a short time.
Parker ran across two more buildings, then lowered himself to another and cut away toward his target. Wildman Hank was on his heels. Parker was awestruck by the man’s physical abilities. He was also seriously glad he wasn’t in the ring with him again.
Slowing down a little, Parker prepared to make his last jump. He knew his aim had to be perfect. The jump from the last rooftop was short, but he also knew he had to hit the thin line of a brick wall that ran the length of the middle. It was almost dead center.
The brick below the surface of the failing structure was barely wide enough for a man to stand on. In the light of the moon, he could hardly discern the safe zone. Leaping, he kept his eyes on his landing spot, ready for the worst if he missed.
But he didn’t. His feet stuck the landing. Regaining his balance, he turned to watch the night’s main event.
The abandoned house was at the edge of a block, and there was nowhere else to go. Seeing the kid waiting, Hank developed a shit-eating grin. Hunger for violence painted his face as he made the simple jump, ready to take his reward.
But Hank’s smile was nothing compared to Parker’s.
As Hank landed, his glee turned instantly to fear. The rooftop likely wouldn’t have held Hannah’s dragon, let alone a three-hundred-pound dipshit. The man disappeared into a hole of his own making with a mighty crash. Another crash sounded and Parker knew that he had fallen through the second floor as well.
Parker turned to climb down the building without even looking. The man was done for, and he hoped he wasn’t too late to offer his friend some help.
21
Hannah had hated her father for as long as she could remember. Arnold wasn’t an easy man to like, and he didn’t have many friends, if any at all.
The women who would occasionally stumble home with him from Lloyd’s pub left early in the morning with more money than they came with.
And then there were the beatings. Hannah’s memory stretched far enough back to recall him hitting her mother more than once, and he wasn’t exactly gentle with her and William.
The man had been worthless at best, despicable at worst.
But when she saw his bloody body on the kitchen floor, a strange feeling of love washed over her. The kind of familial love shaped by the complexity of dysfunction.
Hannah ran to his body and dropped to her knees. The back of his head had been bludgeoned.
Anger and rage abated as fear took over.
“William!” she shouted, running to their bedroom.
The boy’s body was crumpled next to her bed. Hannah dropped next to him, pulling him into her lap, and rocked his lifeless form gently. But then her brother twitched, and he looked up into his sister’s deep brown eyes.
“You came,” he said. The boy tried to smile. “You shouldn’t have. They’re looking for you.”
“Shhh, quiet, Will. Be still. I need to get you help,” she told him.
William ignored her, knowing his fate was sealed. “They came for information. Made me sit and watch as they beat Dad to death, then turned on me.”
Hannah put her fingers to his lips. “Shhhh… It’s OK, Will. It’s going to be OK.”
He blinked, kissing the tips of her fingers as he continued. “They wanted you and the Founder. I told them to piss off.”
The boy started coughing before he finally laughed, wincing as his stomach caused him pain. “Thought they could break me, but they couldn’t. I told them nothing, Hannah.”
The girl rocked her brother and wept into his hair. She cursed her so-called good fortune. She cursed Ezekiel. She cursed Adrien and the Governor. She cursed the Matriarch and Patriarch, in case they existed.
“Hannah, you gave me everything,” William whispered. “And this is what I can give you back. You always protected me. I’m glad I got the chance to protect you for once. I love you, Hannah. But now, you have to go.”
“No, William, I won’t leave you.” She held her brother and sobbed uncontrollably, her tears dropping onto his face.
“It’s because of this bloody magic,” she moaned. And then realized that the thing she was cursing was exactly what she needed to call on.
She laid William’s body flat and then leaned over him, placing her hands on his chest. Concentrating, she urged the power within herself to transfer to her brother.
Nothing.
Remembering that healing magic was the druids’ art, she muttered in strange tongues, trying to convince the universe that her magic was strong enough to heal him.
But it wasn’t; she wasn’t strong enough. If she had only worked harder, listened more to Ezekiel, pushed herself to tap into the power, she could have done this.
She tried again, pushing on her brother’s still chest, thinking she might just be able to physically force the energy out of her and into him.
Nothing.
And then she realized why she had failed. He was already gone.
Hannah had no idea how long she had laid on the floor with her brother’s dead body. She knew the right thing to do was to run.
Her capture would only allow the ones responsible to get away with this and all the other atrocities they had committed, all the other lives they had ruined. She preferred death to living in the hellhole of Arcadia without her brother. But living would allow her to taste justice, and she would take her bloodlust all the way to the top. Her thirst for vengeance required it.
She would kill Adrien.
But first, she had to deal with the Hunters who slew William. Just then she heard her front door swing open. Her house’s floorboards squeaked as the weight of brutes moved across them. Without looking, she knew who it was.
She recognized their power.
“We’re taking you to the boss,” a man said.
She knew the voice. For as many days she had remaining on Irth, she wouldn’t forget it. She rose and faced the man who had accosted her in the alley. The smile he had worn as he tore off her shirt was painted on his face. He looked exactly the same, except for his right hand. It was deformed as if it had been dipped in liquid metal. The smaller magic user stood behind him scowling.
“You did this?” Her question was more of a statement. She knew the answer, but wanted the man’s confession before she unleashed the power of the entire universe on him.
“I only wish I could have gotten the little shit to talk before I landed the last blow. But then again here you are, so same result.” The man shrugged. “And without the wizard here to protect you, your time is up. The Chancellor demanded that we take you in in one piece. But I don’t think he’d mind if we had a little fun. Torturing your family has me,” he grinned, “all excited.”
As the Hunter stepped toward her, Hannah didn’t even try to control her emotion. She forgot every lesson Ezekiel had taught her in the tower. Instead, she let every emotion come to the surface. Her skin began to burn with power. She looked up at the Hunter, her eyes glowing a fiercer red than they ever had.
A gloating smile crossed her face as she saw fear in the man’s eyes.
Her voice was malevolent; it sounded like a chorus of people were talking in unison as her energy radiated in every direction.
“Trust me. I’m not the one getting screwed tonight!”
With his hands on his knees, Parker tried to catch his breath before going into Hannah’s house. The place was quiet, so he a
ssumed that she was caring for her brother. As he stepped toward the door, a rush of wind struck him from behind as Ezekiel appeared out of nowhere.
“You’re him,” Parker said in shock as he took in the haggard-looking old man.
“I am,” he replied.
The old man stepped forward, then slumped to his knees. Teleporting took too much energy to use it as much as he had tonight, but Hannah needed him, so he found the will. Now there was nearly nothing left at all.
Parker ran over to him and leaned down. Hands shaking, Ezekiel accepted his help. He looked up at the young man Hannah had spoken so highly of.
Damage to his face showed that he was tough. The fact that he was still standing told him he was smart. Ezekiel knew Parker could be an asset, if not a key member of their team.
“Queen Bitch…” Parker uttered as the windows of Hannah’s house started to flicker and strobe. Bright light shone through in hues of blue and red. Then a blinding white light burst, blowing the glass out of the windows. It sounded as if a lightning storm had rolled into town and collided with a hurricane. Parker heard high-pitched screaming from within the mass.
Parker took a step toward the house, but Ezekiel grabbed the tail of his cloak. “You can’t,” Ezekiel said. “It’s too dangerous.”
“But Hannah is in there!”
“I know. That magic is hers, but it is well beyond her means. She’s losing control. If you go in there now, you’ll be obliterated.”
Flames and beams of blue continued to fly, many of them jumping out of the windows, licking the sky.
“We have to try.”
The old man, with surprising physical strength, pulled Parker down to his level. Inches from his face, Ezekiel spoke. “You go in there, you’ll definitely be killed. Break whatever concentration she’s maintaining, and you could destroy her as well. She’s still a novice. This power is beyond her. She can’t control it.”
Recognizing that the Boulevard was coming to life, Ezekiel thought about the earthquake that he felt when she transformed Sal. Fear filled him as he looked around. “She could take out the whole damned neighborhood.”
Parker, uncertain how to proceed, decided to place his trust in this crazy old man. Hannah trusted the Founder, and that was good enough for him. “What do we do?”
“Help me up. I can’t protect her, but maybe there is something we can do to save the rest of the quarter.”
Ezekiel held his staff out, pointed above the roof of Hannah’s house. The building looked like it was about to explode. With his free hand, he cupped a palm toward the dusty ground as if he were holding a ball. His eyes turned red, but only faintly.
The old man closed his eyes and started to chant in a foreign tongue. As the volume increased, so did the intensity. He was drawing more deeply on the reserves, tapping every ounce of hidden power within.
His eyes flashed open and they were as bright red as any metalsmith’s flame Parker had ever seen.
This was like no magic he had ever observed in Arcadia. The man’s weight shifted onto Parker, who did all he could to keep the magician standing. Blue light streamed from the end of the staff, finding its apex directly over the house.
With a final word from Ezekiel, it wrapped down in every direction, forming a perfect cover over the structure. It was like an azure glass bowl had flipped over flaming logs.
The magician’s body went limp, but the shield around the house remained. Parker eased the man to the ground and watched as all hell continued to break loose inside the bubble.
As fire and energy continued to escape from the house, they bounced off the blue forcefield, which contained the energy. Eventually it became too bright and Parker had to look away.
Finally, the lights and flames died, and the neighborhood became deathly quiet. Parker held his breath, knowing that Hannah could have never lasted through whatever just happened inside. The blue shield slowly evaporated.
“It is finished,” the old man said, though Parker was unsure if it was a question.
Or an answer.
“Yes,” was all he could say. They sat in the aftermath for a few moments, Parker frozen, wondering what the hell he should do.
“Help me up,” the old man said. “We need to find her.”
Parker’s stomach churned, because he knew they were going in to find her body. They stepped through the entrance, whose door was blown off its hinges. Blood and body parts and rubble littered the kitchen. His eyes scanned for some sign of his friend.
Nothing.
He wondered if the magic had completely disintegrated her. He walked down the hall, half-carrying the magician along with him. Most of the roof had fallen in and they had to pick their way through the debris. Parker reached the back of the house and froze in the doorway to what was once Hannah’s room.
That’s when he saw her.
Hannah sat on the floor with William’s broken body in her lap. Her hair was crusted with blood. Whether it was hers, Will’s, or the enemy’s, he’d never know. A dead guard with a hand of bronze lay in a corner. The skin had all but melted off the dead man’s face.
Hannah lifted her head as the two men cautiously approached. Her eyes glowed red—brighter and deeper than even Ezekiel’s had. But her face; her face was emotionless. She didn’t even see Parker. As far as the girl was concerned, Ezekiel was the only one in the room.
Hannah spoke, her voice all the more chilling for its lack of feeling. “This? This is what your student has done, Ezekiel. He sent these men here to kill my family. To kill me. But I was stronger than they were.”
Ezekiel looked down at the girl, sadness marking his weary face. “Hannah, I’m so sorry—”
She cut him off. She didn’t need his pity.
“Teach me, Ezekiel. Teach me everything, dammit! Drive me till I fall exhausted to the ground, and I will get back up. I will never bend, I will never break, I won’t yield. In the name of the Matriarch, in the name of the Queen Bitch, my queen, I will not stop. I swear on my brother’s dead body that I will not rest until Adrien is destroyed. Even if I have to burn Arcadia to the ground to do it.”
She turned back to view her brother's face.
“I will see justice served.”
Epilogue
Adrien sat at his window sipping twenty-year-old elixir, the finest the mystics had to offer, as he watched the fireworks in Queen’s Boulevard. The liquid bit at his throat as he swallowed.
As the magical show died out, the world went black again beyond his spot at the Academy. The Boulevard was left in darkness, just as Ezekiel’s first student hoped it would remain.
“Cheers, old friend,” he said, as he let the buzz take his mind. He raised his glass to the Founder, wherever he might be.
Without knocking, Doyle burst through the door. “Chancellor, it’s the Hunters.”
“Yes,” Adrien said. “They put on quite a show. Tell me they have good news.”
“They’re dead.”
Adrien froze, the glass halfway to his mouth. His forehead just above his left eye began to twitch. He slowly got up from his chair and strode over to his loyal assistant.
The man began to stammer something, but Adrien slammed the glass across the man’s temple before the words got out. Doyle stumbled back, blood dripping down his face and terror in his eyes. “No, please!” the man said as he grabbed the arm of a chair to steady himself.
Directing his hand in Doyle’s direction, Adrien squeezed, crushing his assistant’s throat. Doyle’s eyes pleaded with his master, but Adrien didn’t see them. He saw nothing in his cold rage.
Once again, his men had been killed.
Once again his plans had been thwarted, and someone needed to pay.
Just before his gripped killed Doyle, Adrien released the pressure. His assistant gasped for breath and fell to the hardwood floor.
A thin smile formed on Adrien’s lips. “We’ve been doing this the wrong way.” He extended a hand down to his assistant.
Doyle l
ooked up at him in distrust. The Chancellor had always been erratic, but his loyalty had protected him from the ebb and flow of Adrien’s wrath. Now he feared for his life. Nevertheless, he reached out a trembling hand and let his leader help him to his feet.
“I need you to set up a meeting, Doyle,” Adrien said, as if they were in the middle of any ordinary appointment. “Gather the chief engineer, the Governor, and Jedidiah.”
“Sir? Old Jed, the Prophet?”
Adrien paced the office. “That’s right. This attack may have been precisely the push we needed to accelerate our plans. Tonight was a tragedy, but no tragedy shall be wasted, not while I’m in charge. Gather everyone. We’ve waited long enough.”
He paused a moment, speaking half to Doyle and half to himself, “I’ve waited long enough.”
As Doyle scampered out of the room, Adrien poured himself another glass. He thought about Ezekiel, no longer afraid of the old man.
Once my weapon is complete, he thought, no magic of Ezekiel’s, no force on Irth will be able to stop me. And then I will make him pay.
I’ll make them all pay.
FINIS
Like book one? Find the entire series here:
Here are series links to make things easy on you:
Restriction: Click Here
Storm Raiders: Click Here
Shades of Light: Click Here
The Arcadian Druid: Click Here
Dawn of Destiny: Click Here
Knight’s Creed: Click Here
Want a free book from Chris and Lee? Sign up for their newsletter and get the novella, The Devil’s Due, for free: https://www.subscribepage.com/chris_and_lee
Author Notes - Lee Barbant
Written February 28, 2017
Thank you so much for reading Restriction (and these notes!). It was a ton of fun to write, and I hope that you like it as much as I do.
Welcome To The Age of Magic Page 23