by Robert York
“I’m kind of starving, do you think I could get something to eat,” Race said rubbing his stomach.
Tilly’s new shoes squeaked and clicked over the hardwood floor as he placed his boxes and bags on a stool slightly taller than he was, standing on tiptoe to place the last bag on the stack.
“I’ll fetch him something to eat Master,” Tilly said in a helpful tone. “Do I have your permission to enter the upper floors of the apartment Master?”
“Yes Tilly, you do,” I answered without turning.
“May I get something for you to eat Master?”
I was still tired from last night’s events. Tired from this mornings events and tired from what went on at Stumpwater’s. I was just plain tired physically, emotionally and mentally. My thoughts whirled around in my mind. I needed to talk to Barnabas in order to make sense of them before everything made me too angry to talk rationally.
“No Tilly,” I said finally. “Thanks for the offer, just see to Race’s needs for the moment.”
“Very good Master,” He said visibly crestfallen, he turned to Race.
“If you would please follow me Sir.” Tilly beckoned heading for the stairs, Race following.
I placed my hands on the counter, bowed my head letting out a deep calming breath. I tilted my head first to the left side then to the right, cracking the tension out of my neck.
“You know, if you keep doing that you’ll have arthritis in your neck by the time your a hundred,” a familiar voice said from the center aisle of ingredients.
“You set me up… You knew what was going to happen when I showed up at Stumpwater’s didn’t you,” I asked in a flat voice, too tired to muster the effort to inject anger into my tone.
Barnabas walked toward me carrying a new backpack and some winter gear. Which he placed on the floor by one of the shelves containing books on Levitation, Time and Space Manipulation and Transmogrification. I noticed he was fully clad in his battle armor.
“Not precisely, I knew that something might happen but was not sure exactly what. That’s why I asked Abner and his people to be there... I didn’t want you to come to harm.” He said moving over to stand behind the counter directly in front of me.
“You could have at least let me in on what was going on you know.” I said raising my head just enough so that I could glare at him from under my knitted brows.
“No I couldn’t, I didn’t want them to know we had anticipated their move.” Barnabas replied.
I rolled my eyes as I stood to face him.
“Can you tell me now what all this was about? Can you tell me why you set me up and used me like bait to flush whoever it is out into the open?” I asked my voice raising an octave or two as I finished.
Barnabas remained silent just looking into my eyes mulling over his answer.
“As I’ve said before... These relics,” he said resting his hand on the medical bag. “Are very powerful and if all four were to be brought together by the wrong person millions of innocent people could die. My decision to use you as bait was a calculated risk,”
“Calculated,” I began, but was briskly cut off.
“That is why there were eight members in the Octagon and two Wizards assigned to watch over each of the relics,” “It was a fail safe set up by Merlin himself.” “Someone might be able to get their hands on one or even two, but not all four.” “That’s why I sent you to Reb with this box.” “That’s why I risked your safety, don’t you realize how dangerous all of this could potentially become,”
He paused letting that last point sink in, then he said.
“If something were to happen as it already has, all eight of us knew the contingency plans of the other’s. We would know what each pair would do to make each of our relics safe.” “The eight of us in the Order knew about Oswald’s and my plan to give Reb the crown for safekeeping and now six are left.”
I started at that, realization flooding into my brain.
“You needed to know if you were being betrayed by someone on the inside, one of the members of the Order,” I said as facts congealed in my brain.
Barnabas nodded.
“I know that Oswald and I haven’t betrayed our oath, nor has Greybeak or Thrum... Neither of them have the mind for such treachery… We know from Tilly that Hans Bialek is dead along with his apprentice Olivia, her being dead, however is speculation until we can get to Bialek’s compound,”
Barnabas scratched at his chin.
“I know for a fact Orm is dead, while you were at Stumpwater’s I went to his cottage,”
Barnabas paused before continuing and then he locked his eyes on mine.
“I found his body drained of blood and his cottage ransacked,”
He trailed off, a pained expression overcoming him.
“What about James his apprentice,” I asked not wanting to hear the answer.
“There was no sign of him if he were behind this, which I doubt, Orm would’ve dealt with him severely, that unfortunately leaves Victor Felderbach and Rodfar Groakus as possible suspects, I have doubts that either of them could have betrayed the Order”
“Treachery is usually committed by someone that you least expect,” I mused.
Barnabas’s face scrunched up distastefully at my words.
“I suppose the two of them could’ve worked together and figured out a way to get past the secrecy spells. I simply can’t see how that would be possible… The spells were design to keep the eight of us silent when it came to the Order’s secrets… They would’ve been incapacitated with excruciating pain had they tried to remove the spells,” Barnabas trailed off in that line of thought.
He shook his head in a way that indicated that he couldn’t believe where his line of thinking led him. As an afterthought he opened the medical bag removing the box from within.
“Could it have been one of the other apprentices or could the information be extracted from their minds by another Wizard?” I asked. “Your apprentice showing up was a sudden turn of events you have to admit.”
“Yes, I believe someone either summoned him by accident or was specifically searching for him. Rahm was not after the crown, I am sure of that. At the time I was convinced that he knew nothing of the Order or its inner workings but it would seem that I was mistaken regarding him. Rahm trailed Tilly here and may have been surprised at his destination that led to the altercation between all of you. Who he’s working with or for remains an infuriating mystery. As you know the information that each of us carry is protected deep in our minds by powerful spells and the information cannot be communicated in anyway unless all of the members of the octagon are present. It would take four of us together or only in the event of one of our deaths for the spells on each of us to be removed.” Barnabas said.
“So it sounds like you have two traitors instead of just one.” I supplied.
“Yes... It would seem so.” Barnabas answered.
He placed the box on the glass counter stuffing the medical bag in a shelf behind him.
“At least they didn’t get the crown,” I offered.
Barnabas smiled opening the box. Turning it so that I could look inside. The box was empty. The crown wasn’t inside.
Son of a bitch, I was the diversion. I think my mouth dropped open hitting the counter because Barnabas regarded me with an amused expression. Finally I said.
“You’re an asshole you know that.”
“Now, now… No need for profane name calling. You knew very well that we couldn’t risk the crown falling into our enemy’s hands. Oswald and I had to take precautions. The crown disappeared the moment you walked through the doors to Stumpwater’s. That by the way was Oswald’s contribution to this little charade and leaving the bus token should you need to return here quickly,”
“So you left me in the dark about what was going on and risked my life over an empty box.” I said, my anger building.
Barnabas replied, “Not entirely empty.”
Barnabas lifted a corner of t
he blue silk fabric removing a small gold foil wrapped piece of candy. It was one of Madame Rue’s double chocolate covered toffees, coated with a layer of cherry liqueur flavored white chocolate.
“Asshole,” I muttered.
He unwrapped it, popping the decadent chocolate into his mouth.
“Now don’t you feel better that you saved such a delicious piece of confectionary from the forces of darkness?”
“Oh yes, that makes me feel so much better,” I replied with as much sarcasm as I could weave into my words.
It was getting hot standing there talking to Barnabas whether it was the heat in the shop or my anger I took off my jacket tossing it on the glass case next to the empty box.
“It had to be done Solomon,” Barnabas said with heartfelt remorse in his tone.
“If I had another option at the time I’d have used it. All that I can say is that I’m sorry for putting you into that situation and I am grateful that you returned unharmed.”
There he goes with logic again. Why is it when you’re pissed at someone they can always throw logic in your face to diffuse the situation. I sighed a deep surrendering sigh, which was really all I could do. Yes, he put me in harms way. Yes, he withheld information that might have gotten me captured or killed and yes he took precautions to make sure I was all right. So why was I pissed? I was pissed because he used me like a puppet. He didn’t trust me enough with the information he had and that the goddamn box was empty. I risked my life over an empty box.
AN EMPTY DAMN BOX PEOPLE!
“I want you to know,” I began. “I really don’t like you at the moment.”
“Obviously,” Barnabas replied with a bit of snark in his words.
“In the future,” I continued. “Could you at least let me make my own decision about where and how I am to risk my life? I’m not a child anymore Barnabas.”
Barnabas thought for a bit and I thought I saw his eyes tear up. He cleared his throat and the misty eyes vanished.
“No my son, you’re not a child any longer and in the future, I’ll treat you as the adult you’ve become. Now, tell me everything that happened at Stumpwater’s,” He said inquisitively.
I told him everything I could remember about the events that happened and in as much detail as possible not skipping over anything. I told him about the tall Wizard and Vampires that tried to help him. I told Barnabas about what Baugrun had said about the hopping stones and how he thought they got into Stumpwater’s undetected. I told him about the mark on the neck of one of the Vampires, which he found most interesting. I also told him about what happened at the Laughing Goblin and the two Vampires we encountered there as well. I told him about Rabeck, Barnabas seemed to be extremely interested in him. He asked me to describe him, remembering that I had a few pictures of him I pulled my iPhone from my back pocket and handed it to Barnabas. I watched his brows rise in surprise, the color left his face and he gasp. My iPhone dropped from his fingers clattering on the glass. Barnabas backed away from it.
“Get rid of that photo,” he commanded.
“Why?” I asked.
“Do it,” he said curtly. “Do it now,”
I picked up my iPhone deleting all the images of Rabeck. I looked to Barnabas; his eyes were focused on a point behind me. I didn’t think Barnabas even realized I was still in front of him.
“What is it? Do you know this Rabeck?”
Barnabas didn’t speak for a good five minutes. When he finally did regain his faculties he ran a hand over his forehead wiping sweat away.
“No. I’ve never seen him before, but I know his kind... That creature in the picture is a Dark Elf...”
“A Dark Elf, I asked?”
“Yes, cruel vicious beings that feed upon the pain and the suffering of others. They make appearances ever so often and when they do famine, war, pestilence and death follow in their wake. This Rabeck is a lesser Dark Elf, but still very dangerous.”
“Lesser Dark Elf?”
“The Dark Elf society is divided into three casts... The first and most powerful is the Mystic cast; they’re born with great power and wield it as easily as humans breathe. The second most powerful cast is the Warrior cast. Weaponry, strength, military tactics and strategy are the skills, which they practice to deadly effect. The third and most numerous of the Dark Elf society is the Worker cast. They are smaller in stature than the other two casts and are the craftsmen, iron masters and war smiths. They are responsible for forging weapons, architecture of their cities and feeding the populace. Rabeck is a member of the Worker cast, that I’m quite certain of,”
“Why did you want me to delete the pictures of him off my phone,” I asked.
“Dark Elves can use images of themselves to listen or spy on the person that holds the picture and in some instances use it as a doorway allowing them into the person’s home. Dark Elves and their magic are extremely dangerous and should never be underestimated. It sounds as though this Rabeck used an egress potion of some sort, so it will take some time for him to put himself back together,”
Barnabas trailed off in thought.
“When I had this Rabeck cornered in The Laughing Goblin I used the Wood Elf spell you taught me, it didn’t work on him. It just bled away without any effect,” I said in the silence.
Barnabas looked up at me, giving me a sympathetic smile.
“What have I told you about spells practiced by nonhuman beings,” he asked.
I remained quiet because as usual when I get questions like these the answers tend to be elusive. Barnabas patted my forearm.
“Spells used by Wood Elves derive their power from nature, the world around us, the heart and soul of the individual and the belief in oneself and the magic being employed,” he said.
“It didn’t work because you didn’t put something of yourself into it. You just cast the spell because you thought it would work,”
“What do you mean put something of myself into the spell,” I asked completely clueless to his meaning.
Barnabas smiled patiently.
“The best way to describe it is when an artist creates a work of art, they must put something of themselves such as love, passion, sorrow, joy, envy or anger into their work. More importantly however, they must believe in themselves and their craft as well as their medium in order to convey what their mind’s eye compels them to create,”
I nodded in understanding even though I only grasp a portion of what he was trying to convey.
“So… what you’re saying, its sort of like creating toons I use in the games I play online. It started out as just a character, but now it has sort of a life of its own, with it’s own look, it’s own bio and own way of acting and playing in the online world even though I’m the one controlling it. Because I sort of put something of myself into my toon,” I said trailing off.
I think I finally understood what he meant. Barnabas gazed at me uncertainty evident in his expression. He didn’t have a clue to what I was talking about.
“If you say so,” he finally managed humoring me.
Don’t you just love it when people don’t understand you?
Barnabas turned, realization evident on his face.
“Vampires… Vampires are the key to all this.” He said finally.
Barnabas straightened leveling his eyes on mine; he picked up his subway token placing it in the pocket of his cloak.
“Get your battle gear on, we must speak with Adrianna Thorne before we go to Bialek’s to investigate.”
“Adrianna Thorne?” I asked in a somewhat stunned voice. “The head of the largest Vampire Clan in the United States? That Adrianna Thorne?”
“The same,” he replied.
Barnabas turned to the door that led to the basement and his laboratory, where he did most if not all of his potion making and creation of our magical implements.
“I thought I’d never be the voice of reason, but ARE YOU INSANE?” My question sounded less a question and more a statement of fact.
Barnabas turned to me for an instant flashing a trusting smile.
“Quite probably.” He said turning back to the basement.
“Why on earth are we going there,” I asked, frustrated.
He stopped glancing back to me, frustration of his own showing in his expression.
“Because the twins that took such a liking to you have the Thorne family crest tattooed on the backs of their necks, so making a visit to the house of Thorne is as good a place to start as any,”
Then he said.
“If you wouldn’t mind on your way up to change please ask Race if he’d like to join us for as long as we might need him and that I’ll make it worth his while.”
Barnabas raised his hand rubbing his thumb against his index and middle fingers in the universal gesture for money. I must’ve just stood there dumbfounded, because his eyebrows knitted together in a look of impatience then he said.
“Well, what are you standing around for we need to get moving! We’ve lost too much time already with me thinking like an idle schoolboy!”
Startled, I turned heading for the stairs that led up to the apartment. What is that old expression? Out of the frying pan into the fire. I hoped Barnabas knew what he was doing going to see Adrianna Thorne. Disturbing or disrespecting a Vampire of Adrianna’s age and power usually ended one of two ways. Dead or just dead. Given that we were literally heading into the center of her place of power I really didn’t like our chances of returning home alive.
Chapter 12
Aloud crack rang in my ears and my stomach felt like it was still at the magic shop or least that was the sensation I was dealing with at that moment. I wasn’t sure what Barnabas had done, but this didn’t feel like how I’d traveled by the “bus token” before. We found ourselves standing on the fortieth floor of the Thorne Building in what looked like a waiting room. The building itself was located on Canal Street situated next to the Chicago River. It was spacious and tastefully decorated with cream leather couches on both sides of the room, two large ficus plants stood beside each. In front of us was a receptionist’s counter made of highly polished rust colored marble. Glass doors coated with smoke colored privacy tint stood respectively on the right and left sides of the counter. Behind the counter sat a cute young woman with long curly bright red hair done up into a loose bun. Her eyes were down presumably writing on a piece of paper or perhaps typing away on some sort of smart phone. Directly behind her mounted on the wall was a large gold metal logo of a circle with an off center block capital “T” situated in the lower right, under that were the words “THORNE ENTERPRISES, INC.” in black block letters.