by D. J. Dalton
“Good evening, Mr. Turner,” said the young arcanum receptionist at the counter.
“Good evening.” Quinlin rushed behind the counter, brushing past the receptionist to enter the back office. He made a mental note to discuss proper makeup application with her. Those over-rouged cheeks and black-lined eyes nauseated him.
Once he closed the office door, he moved to the bookshelf, pulling out his father’s grimoire. After setting both books on the desk, he crossed his arms, staring at the leather binding and gold-leaf lettering. He’d dreamed of this moment all his life.
“This is for you Father.”
With reverence, he opened the Book of Shadows. Memorized words from the grimoire guided him to the pages, documenting the curses, one to draw elemental magic into an animal, and one to siphon the life force from a shifter. After he located the curses, he read them repeatedly, committing each one to memory.
Once satisfied, he gathered the books, then took a deep breath as he walked out of the office, preparing to make history.
As Quinlin entered the lab, goosebumps popped up on his skin. He couldn’t tell if it was cold air or from the anticipation of finally completing his father’s work.
“Dan!” shouted Quinlin, then he mumbled, “That buffoon had better be here.”
“Mr. Turner.” Dan trotted in from the back entrance, the elite arcanum scrambling after him. “What’s the emergency?”
Quinlin could smell the alcohol on Dan’s breath and his bloodshot eyes made Quinlin wonder how long he’d been at the bar. While glancing at the wide-eyed, eager elites, a grin spread across Quinlin’s face.
“I have the Book of Shadows.”
Energetic whispers rolled through the group. A young woman, Shela, clapped her hands as she bounced on her toes.
“You,” Quinlin pointed at Shela, “run through an equipment review.” Over the years, Quinlin had made tweets and additions to the equipment used in his father’s experiments.
Without hesitation, she bolted to a large wooden platform taking up one corner of the room. A table, draped in a banner displaying a black-rimmed circle containing a two lightning bolts crossing over one another, sat at the back of the platform. A gold vessel and the Amplification Disk both rested on the table.
On the far side of the platform were two metal cages. One was large enough to hold an adult man if he were on his hands and knees, while the other stood taller and wider. A thick gold rod connected each cage to the gold vessel on the table.
While laying her hand on the smaller cage, the young elite spoke in a clear, confident voice. “The shifter cage, made of reinforced steel, is locked with a hardened steel padlock.” She touched the larger cage. “The animal cage is also made of reinforced steel. Not only is it secured with a built-in mechanical lock but with a spell that conceals the keyhole as well as the door seams.”
Quinlin joined her on the platform. “Very good, continue.”
She beamed at him. “The gold rod inside the shifter cage will conduct life force from the shifter to the gold vessel when casting the siphoning curse.”
She pointed to the other cage. “The gold rod inside the animal cage will conduct life force from the vessel to the animal in the cage when casting the elemental magic curse. Transferring the life force must happen quickly because the vessel’s limitation for retaining the shifter’s life force is thirty seconds.”
With a gleam in his eye, Quinlin prodded her on. “And the last item?”
“Yes,” she said, hovering her hand over the artifact. “We’ll use the Amplification Disk to magnify the elemental magic curse. Which will allow the animals to animate and respond to our control.”
By this time, the elites had gathered around the platform. Dan sulked near the back, standing with his arms crossed while he glowered at the young elite standing next to Quinlin.
“Very good. As a reward, you’ll take part in the first experiment.”
The elite’s eyes sparkled as she covered her mouth with her hands. Quinlin looked at the remaining elites. He pointed to the two men on the end.
“You two, come up here.”
The men scramble up on the platform, standing next to Shela.
“Dan, you and the rest of the elites load the cages.”
Dan jumped as if jabbed by a hot poker.
“Let’s go.” He motioned to the elites to follow him. They ran across the room, where three rows of ten shifter cages were stacked along the wall. Each cage held a shifter who had been kidnapped during a raid. A few moved lethargically, fighting the drugs in their systems. But most of them remained motionless.
After pulling a key from his pocket, Dan unlocked a cage.
“This one won’t make it much longer. We’ll use her.”
The elites pulled the wolf shifter out of the cage, dragging her across the floor to the platform. Blood matted hair and a broken nose showed the torture she had endured during her captivity. The three elites on the platform secured her in the shifter cage.
“The dogs are in the storage room.” Dan’s lip curled as he looked over at the wall of cages. “We don’t want them around the dirty shifters.” He left for a moment, then returned with an adult Siberian Husky. After walking the dog onto the platform, he secured it in the animal cage.
“Come here,” said Quinlin, motioning to Shela. As she approached, he picked up the Amplification Disk. “Hold up your hands.”
She lifted her arms, extending her palms toward Quinlin. He wrapped the artifact’s chain around her hands in such a way that the disk hung at the center of one of her palms.
“Go stand by the animal cage.”
She stepped away, holding her hands as if the disk would shatter at any moment.
“You two, stand by the sifter cage.” Quinlin set both books on the table. Then he opened the Book of Shadows to the siphoning curse. After turning the book so both elites could read it, he shouted, “Let this historical event be forever seen as the moment humankind was saved from the savage shifters!” He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm his pounding heart. Then he looked at the elite men. “Begin.”
They held their palms toward the shifter, reciting the siphoning curse. The gold rod in the shifter cage rattled, then glowed. After lowering their hands, the elite men stared at the gold rod.
“Again,” shouted Quinlin. “Recite the curse again. Don’t stop until I tell you to stop.”
Their hands flew back up, and they restarted casting the curse. The gold rod rattled, its glow growing brighter. Suddenly, a bolt of electricity flew from the end of the rod to the wolf shifter. A chilling shriek echoed through the room as her back arched and her body spasmed. Her skin grayed then contracted around her bones, leaving bulging, oversized eyes staring out in an unanswered cry for help.
One of the elite men vomited on the stage while the other jumped off, distancing himself from the horror. Shela screamed but held her place, holding her trembling hands and the artifact toward the husky.
Quinlin looked at the shimmering liquid substance swirling in the vessel. A malicious grin appeared on his face as he moved close to Shela. He flipped the page in the Book of Shadows, holding it up for her to read.
“Now you. Keep repeating the curse until I tell you to stop.”
While blinking tears out of her eyes, she focused on the book, casting the curse at the husky. Sweat dripped from her face as she recited the curse again and again. After her voice raised an octave, the smell of burning flesh filled the room, and smoke came from her palm.
Quinlin looked at her hands. The artifact was burning itself into her skin. The gold rod in the animal cage jerked.
“Keep going!” He demanded.
Shela dropped to her knees. Her solid black fingers cracked while tiny chips flaked off, falling to the ground. Black tendrils traveled up her forearms. Then a bolt of electricity shot from the gold rod to the husky. The dog let out a tormented yelp while the snapping of bones emanated from the cage as the dog’s bod
y contorted, reshaping itself. Shela fell over. Her arms, neck, and jaw were solid black. The dog let out a final yelp, then collapsed in a heap.
“No,” growled Quinlin. He stepped over Shela’s dead body, then knelt next to the husky. The smell of burnt fur filled his nostrils. It was dead. He rubbed his forehead with his fingers. What could have gone wrong?
He mentally paged through his father’s grimoire. The answer had to be there. Father said the elemental magic curse needed an amplifier. Maybe the Amplification Disk had killed the elite before the curse could finish. With this thought, he decided to use two elites when casting the elemental magic curse. One with the artifact and one without.
After peeling the artifact from Shela’s scorched hand, he pushed her body aside. While turning the artifact over in his hands, he contemplated the historical reference book’s referral to ‘one-time use’. He’d have to keep that in mind when researching other artifacts. He then walked to the front of the platform, his eyes scanning the remaining elite.
“I need four elites.”
When none of them moved, Dan stepped forward, grabbing two by the arm and pushing another with his foot. He herded them onto the platform.
Quinlin looked into Dan’s bloodshot eyes, seeing, for the first time, a positive attribute of loyalty. While giving him a respectful nod, Quinlin spouted orders.
“These two will cast the siphoning curse. You,” he pointed at Dan, “and the other elite will cast the elemental magic curse.” Quinlin held the artifact up in front of Dan, waiting for his reaction. Without hesitation, he placed his open hand underneath, his eyes never leaving Quinlin’s.
“Wrap this around his hands.” Quinlin motioned toward the elite standing next to Dan, dropping the Amplification Disk into his palm. Then Quinlin raised his voice, “Bring another shifter and dog.”
When, again, none of the elites moved, Dan stomped across the platform. “You heard Mr. Turner,” he growled. The elites jumped, then ran back to the cages.
Once the shifter and Siberian Husky were prepped for the next experiment, Quinlin reiterated the process. This time, the shifter’s body repeatedly thrashed itself against the cage bars before the curse finally drew its life force away. A flesh-covered, skeleton-like hand reached out from between the bars before the shifter shrieked out its last breath.
The book trembled as Quinlin held it out for the casting of the elemental magic curse. “Begin!”
He licked his lips as his eyes darted from the sorcerers to the husky. This had to work. He imagined himself controlling a fire elemental creature, incinerating dirty shifters on his mission to free humankind from the ruthlessness of the wretched beasts.
After noticing the elite’s hands lowering, Quinlin pressed a palm to his head.
“Die with honor or die a coward,” he said through gritted teeth.
The elite’s eyes glazed over. He lifted his arms, resigning himself to his fate. The spoken curse reverberated through the room with Dan’s boisterous voice and the ever-weakening voice of the elite. When the elite collapsed, his charred arms fell across Quinlin’s feet. While kicking him aside, Quinlin stepped up to Dan.
Sweat and snot flew from Dan’s lips as he repeated the curse again. His saturated clothes and hair were plastered to his skin. Suddenly, a bolt of electricity shot from the gold rod to the husky. The dog flew back against the bars, letting out a ghoulish sound. The snapping of bones overpowered Dan’s voice as the dog’s body contorted, reshaping itself into a larger animal. Only the reshaping put the husky’s limbs in unnatural positions. Most of its fur fell away, leaving small, mangled patches across its skin.
The bolt of energy disappeared.
“Stop!” ordered Quinlin.
Dan lowered his hands, staggering back to lean on the wall. When he wiped his face with his arm, he noticed his black hands and minuscule tendrils running up his forearms. While lifting his trembling palms to his face, he cried out.
Quinlin turned his concentration to the creature in the cage. Its head swung back and forth as drool dripped from its snout. After stepping into the cage, he fell to his knees next to the creature, unable to contain the grin on his face. His father’s lifelong goal had come to fruition. While running his fingers across the creature’s head, he wondered what to call it. Dog seemed mediocre, but wolf sounded dignified and powerful.
He stood, then threw his head back, shouting at the top of his lungs, “The cursed wolf initiative is complete.” With a laugh, he secured the husky in the cage.
While Quinlin headed off the platform, he said, “Dan, follow me. We have control spells to create.”
“Mr. Turner?”
At the sound of Dan’s pitiful voice, Quinlin turned, observing Dan’s damaged hands. He held up his own blackened hand.
“Those will heal in a few days. Once we have the control spells written, I want you to schedule an initiative update meeting with all the arcanum. This will be a celebration of our victory.” He headed toward his office with a spring in his step.
Chapter Seven
Keren
Once they were on I-4, Briggs started talking. “I’m not sure how to say this other than straightforward. They charged your mom with using magic as a weapon.”
Keren didn’t believe her ears. Mom was human. “Did you say using magic as a weapon?” Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed One fidgeting.
“There are witnesses who saw her fighting with her assailant. She’s suspected of being a member of the Dark Guild.” He paused. When Keren didn’t respond, he continued, “Right now it’s assumed she had a falling out with the guild, which instigated the attack.”
Keren ran her hands through her hair. “Are you kidding? Mom teaches linguistics at UCF. You grew up around her.” She folded her arms over her stomach. “She’s not a member of the Dark Guild, and she can’t use magic.” Keren’s voice got louder as she spoke. “My mom is in the hospital, a VICTIM of an attack, and she’s under arrest?”
“I know. It sounds crazy. But like I said, we have witnesses.” He took a deep breath, scrubbing his face with his hand. “And there’s other evidence.”
“Who are these witnesses, and what evidence could they possibly have?” Keren put her hand on his arm. His bicep flexed under her touch. She softened her tone. “I need to know.”
“That’s all I can tell you.” He glanced over at her, a pained look in his eyes. While rubbing the top of his head, he messed up his red hair. “If they find out I gave you inside information, I could lose my job.”
Wiping her eyes with her apron, she realized Briggs was taking an enormous risk. He always had her back, ever since they met. He took the blame for filling Ms. Henderson’s desk drawer with shaving cream in the eighth grade. And he saved her life, catching her when she climbed too high in the old oak tree at the park and the branch broke under her weight.
She never worried about getting home safely from high school parties because he always took the role of designated driver.
“I won’t say anything. I’m just upset and confused.”
Briggs bit his lip, clutching the steering wheel and shifting in his seat.
She took a ragged breath. “Is there something else?”
“You’re under suspicion of being a Dark Guild member. Sorcerers’ magic is hereditary.”
Keren’s eyes widened. “Me? I can’t even hold down a job. Why would they suspect me?” Her heart raced. She shuddered from the chill running down her spine. This can’t be happening. It felt like the oxygen was sucked out of the car.
“Keren, there’s more.” His face paled.
Mom lay in a hospital bed, possibly dying, charged with a magic crime. She herself was under investigation.
“What more could there be, Briggs?” Tears streamed down her face. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her legs.
“They’ve seized your property, citing it as a Dark Guild hideout. Also, they froze your mom’s bank accounts. Her trial starts next week.”
He reached out, putting his hand on her shoulder. “You can stay with my mom. I’m sure she won’t mind.”
Her head spun. This moment felt surreal. She hadn’t thought about a trial. How could it be so soon? A trial meant lawyers, and lawyers meant money. How could she hire a lawyer with her salary at the Kitty Café?
Magic crimes had a mandatory sentence of life in prison. Thinking about Mom behind bars triggered a fresh wave of tears. If she didn’t die from the magic attack, she’d die in prison.
Briggs’ voice jerked her back to reality. “We’re here.”
Chapter Eight
Quinlin
Quinlin couldn’t believe he hadn’t killed that woman in last night’s attack. He studied his swollen hands. The black tips of his fingers throbbed. It might take days for them to recover. He’d take care of this problem quickly, then get back to the lab.
He slipped into the hospital employees’ locker room. Thank goodness he didn’t need magic to steal Paul Jacobson’s access badge. He proved to be an easy target. The hungover look in Paul’s eyes gave him away.
While checking the lockers, he found one used but unlocked. People were too trusting. He reached into the locker, pulling out a pair of scrubs. As he held them just below his nose, Quinlin sniffed a couple of times - detergent and a hint of bleach. At least they were clean. The thought of wearing used clothing made his blood run cold.
After changing into the scrubs, he pinned the access badge on backwards just in case he ran into someone who knew Paul. He snatched a clipboard from the locker, attaching a map of the hospital he brought with him. Time for sweet revenge. The potassium chloride syringe in his pocket should finish the job.
While walking down the corridor, he gave courtesy nods to other employees in passing, trying to blend in. After checking the map, he took the elevator to the fourteenth floor. Upon exiting the elevator, he saw the next corridor led to the Restricted Ward.