Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus Identity

by Lydia Sherrer

  That thought terrified him most of all.

  The sound of hushed voices brought him back to himself, and he took stock of the people in the room. None of the demons were in sight, presumably busy searching the maze of shelving units for one wayward cat. Five witches that he recognized from the old paper factory where his brother had been held stood by the warehouse door, silent and watchful as they shifted nervously from foot to foot. Their gazes were fixed on the two wizards who stood nearby, hands joined and raised, chanting in the language of magic Lily used. He didn’t blame the witches. He’d gotten the impression that John Faust was one of the more powerful wizards left in this current age, while Morgan was supposed to be the most formidable wizard in the past two millennia, except for Merlin, if the legends were true. Power radiated out from them in invisible waves that he could feel with some odd sixth sense that tingled over his skin. He assumed it was thanks to what his aunt had done to his Dee family ring, much like it had made his arm tingle when he’d come into contact with various wards.

  Even if he hadn’t had the ring on, he still would have had an inkling of how very afraid he should be of those two wizards—the charm in his pocket was growing so frigid it felt like an icy coal in his pocket. The cold deepened and radiated through his leg, becoming painful to the point that he had to tug the thing out of his pocket and drop it on the ground. His entire hand throbbed with a dull numbness after touching the charm, and even as he stared at it, the thing shattered, sending pieces of frozen clay in all directions. Sebastian’s hands instinctively came up to shield his face, and when he lowered them, he saw that the pop of his charm’s self-destruction had drawn someone’s attention.

  The sixth witch, the giant who had grabbed him and thrown him in his cage, was leaning against a nearby table, arms crossed. His dark eyes were fixed on Sebastian, though they were not threatening, merely watchful. It wasn’t that lowly witch’s gaze that sent shudders through Sebastian’s limbs, but the mismatched eyes of icy blue and green that had swung toward him at the noise the charm had made.

  Roger had been quietly conversing with his son Cassius as the two of them watched the wizards cast their wards, but once Sebastian caught his attention, he said something inaudible to his son and then paced slowly toward the two cages. His gaze seemed intent and predatory, though his wrinkled clothes and untucked shirt—the same one he’d been wearing three days ago at the Hilprecht Museum—marred the striking image he normally cut.

  “Whatever you do, don’t look him in the eye,” Sebastian whispered urgently to Richard, hoping the idiot would listen.

  Not liking the thought of meeting his enemy while sitting on the ground, Sebastian shifted to a ready crouch, though it made his legs burn. He did his best to relax his shoulders and face, adopting a casual mask of disinterest as Roger came to a stop in front of his cage. Any hint of fear, anger, or distress would just please the witch, and Sebastian would be damned if he gave that vile man anything but a world of hurt.

  “I am so very, very pleased to see you again, Sebastian, especially under such auspicious circumstances.” The witch chuckled at his own joke.

  Sebastian clenched his fists, but forced his jaw to relax. The cool, textured surface of his Ring of Cacophony pressing into his palm gave him the courage to meet Roger’s eyes squarely.

  “Hello, slimeball. I’d say the pleasure was all mine, but I’d be lying. You’re about as pleasant to look at as a monkey’s genitals.” Sebastian let a mocking smirk lift one side of his lips, though he feared the expression was too stiff to look truly natural.

  It must have been convincing enough, though, because Roger’s face reddened and his eyes narrowed. He stared fixedly for several seconds, eyes intent, and when Sebastian didn’t look away or show any signs of cowering in fear, he sneered.

  “I would speak more carefully if I were you, boy. The fate awaiting you will make you wish I’d killed you when I had the chance all those years ago. You’ve landed yourself in a particularly sticky situation this time, and I may be your only friend in this room.”

  A shiver ran down Sebastian’s spine, but then his brain caught up to his ears and a sudden realization made his brow furrow. Why in the world was the slimy cretin playing nice? And was that a spark of fear in the witch’s mismatched eyes? Sebastian didn’t voice his confusion, however, just raised one mocking brow. “I can take care of myself, but thanks for the heartwarming offer.”

  “You are outnumbered and outgunned, Sebastian. But by all means, throw away your life, if you please. I’m just surprised you would so readily toss your little girlfriend’s life away with it.”

  “Wha—what do you mean?” Sebastian couldn’t help the catch in his voice, and he glanced over at Lily, noting with relief that Richard’s eyes were fixed on her, not on Roger.

  “Well, it is rather fortunate you appeared when you did, since that delightfully insane wizard, Morgan, was about to end dear Lily’s life. It would have been tragic to see such a pretty thing wasted on mere death. There are much, much more fitting fates we would rather bring to bear, as I’m sure you can remember.” The witch’s eyes turned red, and a sick smile spread across his face.

  A flash of icy fear ran through Sebastian and his hand blindly sought out the bars of his cage closest to Lily, yearning to touch her and reassure himself she was safe. He refused to taint his mind by remembering Roger’s past exploits. The vile, evil bastard didn’t deserve that kind of power over him.

  “But I can protect her. I can protect you both. The wizards do not know my true power. All you must do is give yourself over to me. Open up your mind and let me in. Together we can triumph.”

  Sebastian couldn’t force a laugh out of his bone-dry throat, but he managed to swallow and speak in a level voice, his words dripping with contempt.

  “You are a weak, gutless worm, Roger. You’re desperate. You know you can’t control me anymore, and you’re afraid because you don’t know why. Well I’ll tell you why. I’m stronger than you, now, and so is Lily. So go take that hideous excuse for a face and stick it in a toilet where it belongs.”

  As Sebastian spoke, Roger’s face got redder and redder until he looked ready to explode. It wasn’t the expression of a man who was in charge and had two powerful wizards at his command. It was the face of a coward who’d realized he wasn’t the biggest, baddest bully on the playground anymore.

  Sebastian felt a heady thrill at the sight. He focused on the sweet revenge of defying this sicko to his face, this murderer and rapist who had tortured him and helped ruin his life. There was no point ruining the moment by acknowledging all his protection could be stripped away in a moment if Roger guessed where it came from.

  “Why, you sniveling little—”

  “Roger! Step away, if you please. I need to question the prisoner, and Queen Morgan requires your presence.”

  Sebastian swung his mocking gaze from Roger to the approaching John Faust, who—despite being holed up in the warehouse for who knew how long—still managed to look imposing in his perfectly pressed gray suit. The wizard strode purposefully toward them and around the giant silver and red circle on the floor. He arrived at the cages and faced off with Roger, icy blue eyes meeting smoldering red ones. The two men were of similar height and build, though John Faust’s black hair and stern, patrician features contrasted sharply with Roger’s blond head and softer, more handsome face. Much more noticeable, however, was how the wizard stood tall, radiating power and competence from every line of his body, while Roger’s shoulders were stiff and hunched, as if he were ready to fight or flee at any moment.

  It was the witch who looked away first, the red glow fading from his mismatched eyes as he huffed and hurried off toward where Morgan stood with imperious grace and gave orders to the other witches. Sebastian wondered at the face off, amazed that Roger’s demon had given in without a single taunt. The creature was a master of mind games, and surely just as powerful as any wizard, assuming he was able to bring all of his magic to bea
r. So why hadn’t he made an appearance? Had Sebastian’s immunity thrown him off that badly?

  “Blackwell. Look at me, boy.”

  Sebastian tore his gaze from Roger’s retreating back and met John Faust’s eyes, letting his hatred and contempt show without any attempt at civility.

  “I’m not a boy, and my name is Sebastian.”

  “What you are is a thief and fool who doesn’t know when to leave well enough alone. Now, where are the others? How many are they? When will they arrive?”

  “I’m a fool? Are you kidding me? You’re the one consorting with demons,” Sebastian hissed, leaning closer to the front of the cage and lowering his voice. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. No one, and I mean no one, walks away from something like this without paying a heavy price.”

  “You think me ignorant?” John Faust said, lowering his voice as well and taking a step forward. “You, the worthless, mundane son of cowardly wizards who refused to use magic even to save their own lives?”

  “Wait, what do you know about my parents?” A sudden intensity flared in Sebastian’s chest and he scrambled up to grip the bars of the cage door, pressing his face close and staring at Lily’s father.

  John Faust held his gaze, his expression giving away nothing. Then, his eyes dropped to Sebastian’s hands and his eyes suddenly widened. Before Sebastian could react, John Faust had grabbed his right wrist in an iron grip and yanked Sebastian’s arm through the bars. Sebastian yelled and struggled, bracing against the cage and pulling back. He felt John Faust grip one finger, but didn’t realize what it meant until the pressure was suddenly gone and the wizard released his hold. Sebastian went tumbling back into the cage’s far wall and knew at once what had happened. He lunged forward again, arm stretching through the bars and grasping wildly for John Faust. But the wizard was already out of reach.

  “No, no! Give it back, I need that.”

  “This”—John Faust held the Ring of Cacophony up between two fingers, his face grim and his jaw set—“does not belong to you.”

  “It does too, you bastard! My—my grandfather gave it to me. It’s a family heirloom.”

  A flash of something flickered across the wizard’s carefully controlled features, something fierce and full of hatred. But it was gone as quickly as it had come.

  “It is stolen property, just as the Lugal-nam was. There was a cuff as well, do you have that too?” The wizard’s expression intensified and he moved closer until he was just out of Sebastian’s reach. “Do you have it, boy? Tell me!”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Now give me that ring back, I need it.” Sebastian tried not to yell—the last thing he wanted was for Roger to notice and come back over. But it was difficult. He could feel them in the room, pressing close—could feel their malevolent intent suddenly focused on him. He began to pant, mouth open, trying to push down the panic. “I need it,” he repeated, unable to keep the pleading out of his voice.

  John Faust eyed him, his steely gaze devoid of any compassion.

  “Why do you need it?”

  “It—it protects me. From…” Sebastian closed his eyes, swallowed, then opened his eyes again. “From them.”

  You are alone. Helpless. Hopeless. Nothing will save you now.

  “Please.”

  Lily’s father watched him for a moment more, rolling the ring between his two fingers just beyond Sebastian’s reach. “Interesting. My research indicated it had certain...masking capabilities. It is good to know they are useful against demons as well as wizards. I look forward to exploring its many secrets.” With that, he slipped the ring onto his own finger. His body immediately tensed, then relaxed, and he closed his eyes. His head tilted upward as he drew in a deep breath through his nose and curled his hand into a fist. Finally, he opened his eyes and looked at Sebastian again.

  “Where are your friends? How many are coming? When will they arrive?”

  “I’m—I’m not saying anything until you give me back my ring.”

  Worthless. Weakling. Give up now. It will be better that way.

  “If you answer my questions, I will consider your request. Now speak.”

  A shiver ran through Sebastian, and he swallowed, trying to moisten his dry mouth. Should he say anything? Maybe lie, just to get his ring back?

  “I will know if you lie, Blackwell. And there will be consequences.” The wizard’s gaze flicked over to where Richard was sitting silent and watchful, still holding Lily and doing his best not to draw attention to himself.

  “You sick bastard,” Sebastian said, rage flaring in his chest. “How could you even think of hurting your own daughter?”

  “She made her choices, and will suffer the repercussions whether I wish it or no.” John Faust’s expression was cold, but somehow less hard for just a moment. Then he focused back on Sebastian and his eyes narrowed.

  “Speak, boy. Now!”

  “I’m not telling you anything!”

  “Speak, Sebastian Blackwell.”

  Something washed over Sebastian and he fell backward onto his rear, blinking dazedly in confusion. Had John Faust just used a spell on him? The wizard’s voice sounded different, not his usual condescending tone but something complex and layered and inexplicably compelling.

  Tell him what he wants, or he will hurt the girl. Cut her, pierce her, make her bleed!

  Sebastian shook his head, trying to rid himself of the horrible, high-pitched laughter of those voices ringing in his head.

  “Speak, Sebastian Blackwell,” John Faust said, his voice like golden honey. “Where are your friends?”

  “I don’t know.” The words slipped out without his permission. He felt dizzy, yet somehow unnaturally calm about it. What was happening? The ward ring on his finger felt warm. Did that mean his aunt was trying to call him? No, the porthole was for calls. What had he done with his porthole?

  “How many are coming?”

  “Aunt B and Mrs. Singer and—” Sebastian swallowed and scrunched up his brow. Something was wrong. Why was he talking?

  What a pathetic worm. You just betrayed your friends.

  What? No! He hadn’t meant to—he’d hardly let anything slip—

  Too late. You might as well tell him everything. You’re a cowardly failure, and that’s all you’ll ever be.

  The accusation pierced his heart, and it felt like no greater truth could ever exist. He hadn’t been able to save Lily, hadn’t even been able to protect himself. He was helpless and hopeless. The utter surety of his failure grew, crowding out every other thought—except one.

  YOU ARE SACRED.

  He didn’t feel like it. He hardly even believed it, it was so ludicrous. But it was something, something, to hold onto. Sebastian repeated it over and over again, shouting the mantra in his head, using it as a shield against the torrent of malevolence and magic trying to subdue his will.

  “And? Who else?”

  John Faust’s voice washed over him, the magic in it seeking purchase in his mind. It did not find any. There was no room there for anything but three precious words. All he had to do was keep it that way, and still have enough brain cells left over to lie convincingly with a few shreds of truth.

  “Some—some friends,” Sebastian mumbled, pushing the words out with difficulty.

  “Who are these friends?”

  “I—I don’t know.” He didn’t know, since Aunt B had never told him. No need to mention Jamie—he wasn’t even sure the kid would be coming.

  “When will they arrive?”

  Sebastian hesitated, and another wave of magic hit him, its effect so strong that his head lolled back and every muscle in his body relaxed. He came close to blacking out again, but his ward ring was hotter than ever, and the searing sting kept him from going over the brink.

  “You will answer my questions. When will your friends arrive?”

  “I—I dunno—inna day mebby?” Sebastian heard his own slurred words as though someone else were speaking t
hem. It was all right, though, because he was just guessing, he wasn’t sure at all.

  There was a long pause, and the strange sensation that had forced his muscles to relax began to slowly dissipate. As it did, his ward ring cooled. Something warned him not to show any sign of the change, though, so he remained limp, breathing as deeply as he could without sending sharp stabs of pain through his injured side.

  “What did you do to my raven construct? It disappeared and I cannot sense it.”

  A languid giggle slipped easily from Sebastian’s lips. He could think more clearly now, but he still felt tipsy as all get out. Fortunately, this one was easy.

  “Shoddumup wipainballs,” he said, slurring his words on purpose this time. “F-funny as shi...shi...thingy.”

  Through half-closed lids, Sebastian saw John Faust frown.

  “Who was the person with you when you first investigated this warehouse?”

  “Sssome hiregun. Spensive basserd.” That was true. He was still sore about all the money Mallory was extorting from him.

  “...very well,” John Faust said after a significant pause. His keen eyes remained fixed on Sebastian’s face. Then the strange magic suddenly disappeared, and Sebastian sat bolt upright, feeling as if he’d been dunked in ice water. John Faust ignored him and turned as if to leave, but Sebastian lurched forward and called out.

  “Wait! Gimme back my ring. I have to have it.”

  “No.”

  “But you said—”

  “I have considered the claim you have put on the artifact, and I reject it as false. Now be quiet.”

  Sebastian opened his mouth to start yelling again—pleading, even—but then he spotted the reason for the sudden tightness in the wizard’s voice.

  Morgan le Fay was gliding toward them. Gone was her elegant but ancient attire she had worn when Lily had woken her from over a millennium of sleep. It had been replaced by a posh and well-cut pantsuit of deep, royal blue, paired with black heeled boots. The wizard’s golden red hair had been cut short and was styled so that her bangs swept across her forehead to tuck behind one ear. She wore a thick necklace of gold around her neck and a brooch over her right breast. Both pieces of jewelry looked much older than the modern suit they were paired with.