Will Wilder #3

by Raymond Arroyo

  “The coach is involved?!” Will asked.

  “Oh yeah. He was real angry. Said whoever did this would pay and they’d be off the team forever. There was blood all over the place….It was pretty spooky. Those guys won’t be able to play tonight.”

  “Caleb won’t be able to play tonight either.” Will punched his own hand in a show of force—and instantly shook the receiving palm, wincing in pain. “It’s Caleb. He faked my voice or something and then hurt those guys.”

  “I’d be very careful if I were you, William,” Cami warned. “Are you sure this guy is possessed or is a demon?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “You’d better be.” She got real close and patted the talisman under his shirt. “Because with your little power enhancement, you could hurt people too. And you don’t want to hurt the wrong people.”

  “How do you know about that?” Will pulled away.

  Simon piped up, flipping open his book. “King Arthur says something interesting here….”

  Will rolled his eyes. “I didn’t know this was a meeting of the Blabbingdale Book Club.”

  “Here it is.” Then Simon read, “ ‘Why can’t you harness Might so that it works for Right?’ He suggests here that Might resides in bad people, but that it could be directed toward something good. Maybe you can do good with your fists of fury?”

  Cami blinked, trying to make heads or tails out of that. Will headed for the door. “I’ve got to go see the coach—and find Caleb.”

  Andrew ran after him, attempting to share all that he had seen in the locker room.

  Simon threw his book on the table, watching Will and Andrew charge up the block. “Jerk. I was trying to be helpful.”

  “I know.” Cami patted his bony arm. “But you can help me. We’ve got to get over to the de Plancy Cemetery before the sun sets.”

  “Fine. But I’m not going to his game. Forget about it. In Will’s case, Might makes Fright!”

  Cami lifted her shopping bag with the Joan of Arc helmet from the floor and Simon grabbed their book bags.

  “What’s the hurry, hons?” Miss Ravinia asked, pursuing them to the front door. She tugged on Simon’s book bag and lowered her voice. “Look, anytime you want a Puffer Fluff, you don’t have to fight those kids for scraps. You just come ask Miss Ravinia, and I’ll get you the biggest Puffer Fluff in the kitchen—on me.”

  Simon thanked her and in his nasal tone said, “I may just take you up on that, Miss Ravinia.” She closed the door behind him and shooed away the hissing cats gathering at her feet.

  * * *

  Brother Godfrey LeFleur, the stoop-shouldered, shy brother who spoke only when spoken to, under obedience, spent most of the day on the Perilous River. It was hardly a chore for Godfrey. He loved the solitude and spent as much time outdoors, and at the river, as possible.

  When Bartimaeus informed the community that they needed to catch sheatfish to repel Asmodeus, the abbot lifted his head and uttered one word. “Godfrey.”

  The brother shuffled forward, and in his light French accent said instantly, “I shall be on the water before sunrise. Before sunrise.” He had a habit of repeating himself.

  Early Friday morning, he took his fishing poles, a net, and a cooler and loaded them all on a gray flat-bottomed boat the Brethren kept at Lucille’s pier. They used it whenever they had to go out along the river.

  At nearly five o’clock, Godfrey, still in his waders, walked into the refectory—the dark-paneled dining room where the Brethren ate all their meals.

  “Pardon my intrusion,” Godfrey said, his droopy eyes sparkling. He held a large ziplock bag in his hands. “I’ve caught enough sheatfish for our purposes. They are large—rather large. I had to go out beyond Dismal Shoals.” He laid the bag with the silvery pink fish on the table near the abbot.

  “Why so far?” the abbot asked, wiping his mouth. “I’ve seen you catch plenty of fish near Lucille’s house.”

  “When I cast off, the banks of the river were choked with dead sheatfish. They weren’t only dead. They were all blackened bones—all bones. The Sinestri, it appears, used their black arts to kill many of the poor fish. Not a bit of flesh remained—not a bit. This is why I went downriver.”

  “So you got enough of ’em?” Bartimaeus asked.

  “Hundreds and hundreds. Whatever the Sinestri did had no effect downriver.”

  “Now for the hard work,” Athanasius said, examining the fish in the bag. “Who is going to separate out the hearts and livers?”

  The double doors of the kitchen instantly swung wide and Ugo Pagani, his potbelly covered by a leather apron, appeared wielding two twelve-inch knives. “This kitchen’s going to look like a fish trauma unit by the time I’m finished. Somebody better get me some good sheatfish recipes, because we’re going to be eating these fillets for the next decade.” He guffawed and leaned against the door frame. “In a half hour, there’ll be enough fish organs for you to have an underwater recital. But how are we planning to smoke their innards? The fumes have to reach the demon—and he could be anywhere.”

  “It’s under control,” Philip, the community builder of gadgets, said out of the side of his mouth. “You just give me the assets. I’ve already set up grills that’ll create lots of smoke all over town. At night people won’t suspect a thing.”

  “They won’t suspect fish guts stinking up the neighborhood?” Ugo asked.

  “You take care of the organs; I’ll take care of the distribution. I’ll give you a hint.” Philip looked to the left and the right, as if the brothers were suddenly spies. “Think storm drains. So long as we don’t get rain, and there’s none in the forecast, we’ll be fine. I also have a mobile incensor that we can quickly deploy if necessary.”

  Athanasius looked down the table at Pedro Montaigu, the compact Spanish brother with dark green eyes. “You’ll be taking care of the speakers along Main Street.”

  “Yes, sir,” Pedro said with a sharp nod. “I have rerouted the music source from city hall to an antenna at the library. Meaning, I can play whatever we want to play—from here.” He held up his smartphone.

  “How ’bout some Sinatra?” Ugo Pagani deadpanned.

  “I’ve always liked Th-eline Dion,” Brother Amalric, the rotund bookkeeper and attorney of the group, suggested.

  “Can’t we work in some Celtic music?” Brother James asked.

  The abbot raised his hands in exasperation. “That is enough. This is not your personal playlist, gentlemen. We are discussing a serious mission.”

  “I was going to play flamenco music anyway,” Pedro said dismissively.

  “And what if the city discovers your rerouting scheme, and Cassian’s music fills the streets again?”

  “Eet is no problem.” Pedro pulled out a pair of wire cutters. “I will jump along the roofs and snip-snip the speakers. It will take them days to reattach.”

  “Sounds like a plan, gents,” Ugo said, pushing open one of his kitchen doors, mischief in his eyes. “Now, if you all could bring those little fishies in here. The operating theater is open.”

  * * *

  Most of the guys were already warming up on the field by the time Will got there. Some of his teammates fell silent when they saw him and Andrew approach. He could tell from their glares that they all thought Will had injured his teammates. Their stares burned. How were they going to win a game this way? Coach Runyon was relieved to find that Will was with his friends at Bub’s and nowhere near the bloodied locker room earlier in the day. He gave Will permission to play. Still, the atmosphere on the field unsettled Will.

  His nose started itching the moment he neared the locker room. Renny Bertolf sat on the bleachers near the entryway.

  “When they took those kids away on stretchers, I told them it wasn’t you, Will.” Renny spoke quickly and with a touch of hysteria. “
I knew you wouldn’t do anything like that to those kids. It’s the same thing he did to me. He gets you when you’re alone.” His wide nostrils flared and he pointed to the locker room ominously. “Caleb just went in there. Be careful.”

  “It’s okay, Renny.” Will squeezed Renny’s shoulder to reassure the boy. “My friend Andrew is in there changing.” But his nose was now tingling something fierce, and just as he spoke, Andrew stepped out of the locker room, fully dressed in uniform.

  “See you on the field, Will-man,” Andrew said, attaching his helmet strap.

  “See you on the field,” Will said half-heartedly.

  He inhaled deeply, then turned toward the locker room doors.

  “Be careful, Will. Be careful,” Renny kept repeating as Will walked away.

  With every step, his sinuses burned like crazy. He thought about going back and asking the coach or Andrew to come to the locker room with him. He thought about waiting until Caleb came out. But his feet kept moving forward and he convinced himself that there was nothing to fear.

  AH-CHOO! AH-CHOO! AH-CHOO!

  There was no sign of Caleb or anyone else in the locker room. Between sneezes, Will quickly slipped into his uniform, his mind racing:

  Caleb has to be Asmodeus. But how do I stop him? He’s hurting people. He beat Renny twice, busted a hole in the band room, changed into some monster— What did the prophecy and Gamaliel say? “This commander of legions has many faces.” Now he’s cutting guys on the team—his own friends. I should have packed some fish hearts and livers…darn it! Then there’s that creepy Cassian dude’s music. Imps are all over Perilous Falls. Mom and the whole town are going nuts. This all has to be related. I’m missing something here….

  The feeling of chains wrapping around his arms jolted Will from his thoughts. Caleb tightly held the ends of the chains, pressing them into Will’s back. “Not so strong now, are you?” Caleb whispered. “You took my teammates out and I guess you thought I was next. It’s not happening.”

  Will was sure the beast was about to slash him. He grabbed the middle of the chain at his chest and popped it apart like it was made of daisy stems. Caleb, his tiny eyes suddenly wide, stared at the slack chains in his hands. “I thought this was supposed to keep you…stop you.” He was genuinely terrified.

  “I know who you are, Caleb, and you’re not going to hurt anybody else,” Will said.

  “It was your voice, Wilder. I was right over there. I don’t care what the coach says—I heard it.” Caleb started backing away, his eyes darting around the room. “Three of my friends are in the hospital because of you. Three of ’em. Keep away from me, Wilder. Keep away.” He dropped the chains, grabbed his helmet, and bolted out the door.

  Will stood still for a moment, pondering what had just happened. It’s a little game. The demon is trying to bait me into hitting him. Then I’ll be off the team and he’ll be able to go on hurting people. I’ve got to be smart about this….Maybe might can make right, Simon.

  Will tied up his shoelaces and ran onto the field. Buses filled the school lot and crowds were moving into the stands for the game. But the only person Will saw as he walked onto the sideline was Lilith Lorcan. She was finishing a routine with her fellow cheerleaders, her thick black hair catching the purple of the dying sun. She turned just in time to intercept Will.

  “I didn’t know if I’d get to see you before the kickoff,” she said, standing a little too close. “So you think you can whip them?” she whispered, so the others couldn’t hear.

  “I’m going to try. It’s my first game and…” Over Lilith’s shoulder, at the top of the stands near the end zone, three women in gray uniforms were testing a console with two huge speakers on either side. Standing behind the console was Cassian Modo.

  “Are we still going for milkshakes after the game? I told my dad to pick me up at Bub’s later, so we could talk,” Lilith cooed. When she got no response, she gently tugged a piece of Will’s hair hanging over his ear. “Hey, I’m over here.”

  He looked back at her. “What?”

  “I asked if we were still going to Bub’s after the game?”

  “I guess we can…yeah. Sure. Uh…I did promise some friends that I would see them—”

  The first chords of Cassian’s music, the droning beat that had become the soundtrack of Perilous Falls, blared from the big speakers. A cheer went up.

  Will couldn’t take his eyes off Cassian, who raised his arms above his head and started gyrating.

  “So are we going or not?” Lilith playfully hid her pom-poms behind her back and batted her eyes.

  “Yeah, I want to. It’s just that I told my friends—”

  “Come on. It’ll be fun. What are you afraid of, Will?” She giggled, gave him a quick hug, and added, “Good luck and see you at Bub’s.”

  She bounded off before he could say another word. Cassian’s music blanketed the field. Many in the crowd started swaying in unison. Some were amused by the display. But Will wasn’t. Neither was Dan Wilder, who tried to convince his wife to sit down. She loudly refused and kept right on jigging with the others.

  Suddenly the music stopped and the voice of Mayor Ava Lynch intruded. “Is this on? Oh, yes, there I am,” she said, hearing her voice bounce back to her across the field. “We are honored tonight to have with us for both the halftime entertainment and for the playing of the national anthem, DJ Cassian Modo!”

  Wild applause rang out. Will could hear his mother whistling.

  “As excited as we are to have DJ Cassian with us, let’s remember we are here to support our middle school teams. So have a wonderful game, fellas. Go on, Cassian.”

  The teams assembled on the sidelines, Sorec Middle on one side, Perilous Falls Middle on the other. Cassian’s adaptation of the national anthem was strange and ploddy. Not that any of his fans in the crowd or along the sidelines felt that way. They all began to sway to the slow, rhythmic beat. Will kept his hand over his heart and the amulet. Something in his peripheral vision made him turn toward the stands behind him. As if summoned by the music, hordes of imps climbed the bleachers and scattered through the crowd. Before the anthem was over, laughter began to explode from different sections of the stands. Guffaws and high-pitched squeals sounded everywhere. Will focused on the people chortling. The creatures were tickling them, causing the laughter. By the time the anthem ended, the place was in hysterics.

  Will didn’t know what to do. So intent was he on the action in the stands that he missed the coin toss and the start of the game. Will caught sight of his father, whose head was popping back and forth, worriedly scanning the crowd. Leo and Marin waved at Will—and seemed the only normal people in the stands that day. Will’s nose burned.

  “Let’s go, Wilder. Wilder!” the coach yelled, pushing Will onto the field. “Come on, we’ve got possession, son.”

  He was to be a receiver on the play. The ball snapped and Caleb threw it to the other side of the field for no yardage. On the second down, Caleb searched for a free receiver as the linebackers surrounded him. With nowhere else to throw the ball, he angrily hurled it toward Will. Will grabbed it with one hand, as the kid next to him turned to make a tackle. The Sorec player wrapped his arms around Will and got dragged for 5 yards. That’s when Will stopped running. Clutching the ball, he shook his torso and sent the Sorec kid backsliding to the middle of the field. The boy landed so hard and skidded so far that he took the four feet of green turf with him. It bunched under his backside like a displaced rug. Will resumed running toward the end zone. Two guys were getting close. He gave one the stiff arm and bounced the other back with his hip. The coach shook his head in delight as Will passed the 20-yard line, the 10, the 5, and sauntered into the end zone for a touchdown.

  The Perilous Falls crowd exploded and Cassian started playing a jubilant version of the same song he always seemed to play. Will’s initial enjoy
ment faded when he faced the stands. At first he thought they were cheering his score. But he quickly realized they were fighting, bickering, yelling at one another. Even his mom was now shouting at the top of her voice at his dad and the kids.

  Perilous Falls Middle scored the field goal. Andrew congratulated Will, who was too busy checking on Lilith across the field to notice. She gave him a big thumbs-up.

  On what have I set my heart? On what have I set my heart? Will kept thinking to himself, smiling at her. Sitting on the sidelines, he looked over his right shoulder to the very top of the stands.

  Cassian, perched behind the console, pointed at him with two hands, swaying to the music.

  “Will Wilder, this one’s for you,” he purred into the microphone. Then he unleashed the obnoxious lullaby that made some in the crowd swoon. Many began a trancelike dance while others argued with those around them. The imps crouching on shoulders and perched in the stands did their best to stoke division: pulling at hair and swatting the unsuspecting. Across the field, Lilith stared straight at Will and began jamming to the music. He watched her intensely.

  She may be the maiden I have to protect. The girl who could save my life…Or am I being “conquered” by beauty?

  Will dropped his face into his hands, helplessly confused.

  * * *

  “This headstone is no help at all. It’s too old and the name is scratched off. Is that an ‘n-e-y’ here at the end?” Simon asked, squatting next to the marred, crooked gravestone beside an open pit.

  “Let’s find the next one,” Cami said, shining a flashlight on the unreadable headstone. “The voice in the helmet said I had to take down the names on the graves that had been violated. There’s got to be others.”

  Simon looked at the gravestones and tombs down the row beside them. Shadows lengthened across every path. It was his idea to start at the back of the cemetery and work their way forward. “All right. Why don’t we go down each row, together. Quickly. It’s getting dark, Cami, and we don’t want any trouble.”