The Salem Concord Book 1: Interview for a Wizard

by J. A. Areces

  ***

  The wizard Beifar didn’t enter This and That right away. He didn’t want to make the same mistake he did when he appeared at Lord Alex’s office. He didn’t want to run right into another Emunio Concutio. The pain from an Emunio Concutio takes time to get over, and he was still feeling the effects from his last encounter.

  There was no alarm. Depending on the level of the Emunio Concutio, the effects could be felt some distance away. A very powerful system could be felt as far away as across the street, whereas a less powerful one wouldn’t be felt until one entered the premises. Beifar entered the shop cautiously. He heard a bell ring in the back room of the store announcing his presence. It was a very strange store filled with, what Beifar thought was, nothing but junk. Strange items occupied every inch. It was weird. Who would buy any of this stuff? Then, the answer hit him, his wife. He squeezed between a large ivory elephant and fire hydrant when someone called out from the back, “I’ll be right there!” her voice trailed off in a song.

  The wizard waited. Beifar stood in the middle of the small store casing the area for the crystal ball. He noticed headboards, mirrors, lamps of every shape and size, milk glass bottles, and stuffed animal heads, old bikes and fans. There was no trace of it.

  Then a short, heavy-set woman came out from the back room wearing different shades of purple and a huge smile, “How can I help you?” she sang waving her arms over her head. “Oh!” she stopped in her tracks suddenly becoming nervous. “A…wizard. Girls, we have a wizard in our store.”

  Immediately, Clara and Isabella appeared from the back room.

  “He’s a cop.,” informed Isabella. “I can smell it.”

  “How can we help you, officer?” Clara asked, distrustfully.

  The wizard reached into his long, black cloak and pulled out the jewelry he found back at Alivan’s Wizards and Witches Corner Store. Agatha withdrew gasping, her hands over her chest. Beifar held it up between his fingers. “I believe this belongs to one of you.”

  All three ladies stood quiet. Isabella glanced over at Clara. Slowly, Clara approached the wizard and held out her hand, taking the shiny item from Beifar. She smiled politely, thanking the wizard. He dropped his free arm, and gripped the staff as he shifted his weight and leaned against the long, ornate, magical rod.

  “I must have dropped it somewhere. How silly of me,” she turned and addressed her friends, “look girls, the kind officer found my favorite brooch.” They all smiled and thanked him.

  “Where is it, ladies?” Beifar asked with a smile. “Hand it over nicely, and I’ll forget all about it.”

  Isabella snared. She slowly tried to reach into her gown for her wand, but the wizard shook his head.

  Clara looked confused, “What do you mean?” she asked.

  Beifar stood upright. He took a very official posture. “Hand over the crystal ball, or I’ll have to tear this place up. You don’t want me to do that, do you?”

  “You’ll have to get passed the three of us,” threatened Isabella.

  “Oh, just give it to him,” whimpered Agatha. “It’s not worth it. We’ll end up destroying the store and the crystal ball is cursed anyway.” She flung her arms over her head in disgust and made her way to the back counter. “Cursed with the mark of the Secret Society of Seven Sorcerers!” she shrieked.

  Clara covered her ears.

  Beifar grimaced as he tried to withstand the pain of Agatha’s high-pitched voice. He was momentarily distracted and lost his focus.

  Isabella held the wand out before her, aiming it at the wizard. She smiled at him proudly.

  Beifar smiled back, slightly waving his hand. The wand flew out of her grasp, and he caught it.

  Isabella pouted.

  “Curses!” Clara stomped her foot. “Mental spells. You’re very good, officer, very good indeed. Follow me.” She turned and led him into the back room, the other two followed close behind her.

  The wizard entered to find the huge crystal ball sitting in the middle of the tiny storage room, crowded by more strange items. In fact, it looked very much at home. Three small folding chairs were positioned around it. The wizard tilted his hat back to get a better look, revealing his eyes. Isabella lost her breath at the sight of him and smiled at the handsome wizard. She blushed as she batted her eyelashes.

  Beifar faced Agatha and asked, “What did you mean about the mark of the Secret Society of Seven Sorcerers?”

  The three witches sat at the same time. Beifar remained standing in the doorway. “The seven dragons.” answered the round witch. “It’s the ancient mark of the Secret Society of Seven Sorcerers. Don’t you know?”

  The wizard relaxed his stance. He shook his head.

  “The Secret Society of Seven Sorcerers is an antiquated group of elderly, corrupt sorcerers,” interrupted Clara. “It is composed of rotten, lusting for power and money, wizards. They have been in existence for hundreds of years. Very few know of their identity. It’s a secret. Some say that they don’t even exist. But I know that they do. I was married to one of its members, Lord Winston Towers. He’s dead. Poor Winston mysteriously disappeared. When one of the seven sorcerers dies, they select another that is known for his foul reputation; high status in social circles; financial success; and of course, someone they believe will be loyal to the society. Oh, yes, loyalty is very important. They value loyalty to the Society very much. Once you’re a member of the Society, you’re always a member of the Society. Death is the only way out. I guess you can say that they are Wizardry equivalent to the Folk’s mafia. The Society originated from seven different families that came together for one common goal - - power.” She patted her aged chin, and pressed back on her perfectly pinned hair. “Very powerful and very wicked.” She smiled and winked at the others. They giggled in return.

  “I don’t know what the Secret Society of Seven Sorcerers has to do with any of this right now…”

  “Well, the fact that the crystal ball was at Alivan’s Wizards and Witches Corner Store leads me to believe that one of its members is dead or has been killed.” Clara looked very content with her assumption. “Death is the only manner of separating a sorcerer from his crystal ball. This crystal ball belonged to one of the sorcerers. The bond between the master and the crystal ball is very strong. This crystal ball is very powerful and very mysterious, much too valuable for Alivan’s Wizards and Witches Corner Store. Each sorcerer owns one and among many things, it’s how they communicate with each other. They’ve continued doing it this way since the Society was founded. This crystal ball is hundreds of years old, and dates back to the original seven. Someone at Alivan’s Wizards and Witches Corner Store ordered its owner killed.”

  The room went quiet. The witches looked fixedly at Beifar, and the wizard stared back at them with the same intensity.

  “I’m looking for a wizard,” stated Beifar. “An escaped convict called Raven Fidgewidge. Have any of you seen him in town?”

  “Oh no!” cried out Agatha.

  “To know him is to sign your death certificate!” Clara announced.

  “He’s a mad man.” Isabella said softly. “His reputation is repugnant.”

  The wizard wondered if Raven Fidgewidge had something to do with the Secret Society of Seven Sorcerers. Why the crystal ball, he thought?

  “Ladies, this crystal ball belongs to Raven Fidgewidge, and…”

  “Oh, no it doesn’t,” interrupted Agatha. “It belongs to the Secret Society of Seven Sorcerers. If this one belongs to Raven Fidgewidge, then he assassinated its owner.”

  “Let’s find out, ladies.” Clara stretched out her arms, and the others did the same. Together they formed a circle around the crystal, and in unison chanted a spell.

  “Bubble, bubble toil and trouble…” The three sang in unison.

  “I love this part.” Agatha interjected.

  “We need to know on the double, />
  Tell us the name,

  Tell us the history,

  Show to us the owner of this mystery”

  The crystal ball filled with mist, pulsating and swirling violently as if against its will. Seven dragons whirled inside the orb before fading away to reveal an image that began to take shape. Beifar watched closely as a dark chamber slowly appeared, and in the vast room stood a man wearing a long, dark robe that went down to the floor. The view from the crystal ball zoomed back revealing six men, sorcerers, shrouded in dark robes, concealing their identities. They stood straight and erect, around the man in the center, with wands in hand as seven chimes filled the chamber. When the last chime rang out, the man in the center pulled his robe off and let it drop down to his waist; his upper body exposed. The first sorcerer stepped forward wand blazing, filling the room with its light. In the distance a woman sat in a chair, holding a small girl in her arms. The frightened girl looked away crying. Her mother tried to comfort her, to no avail. They watched terrified as the first sorcerer took his wand and raised it over his head pronouncing the following,

  “Rise Lord Bane, you are now a member of the Secret Society of Seven Sorcerers!” The sorcerer brought his wand down upon Bane’s back, and he cried out in pain.

  The smell of burnt skin filled the room, and the three witches covered their noses in disgust.

  Lord Bane dropped to the floor in pain. The image of a dragon was now burnt onto his back. The girl cried out for it to stop.

  Another sorcerer lit his wand, and approached the man on the floor. “Rise Lord Bane, you are now a member of the Secret Society of Seven Sorcerers!” He leaned down and brought his wand hard on the wizard’s back. Again, he cried out in pain. Another dragon appeared burnt onto his skin wrapped around the first. The young girl cried for her father.

  A third sorcerer stepped forward and taking his burning wand, “Rise Lord Bane, you are now a member of the Secret Society of Seven Sorcerers!” The wand burned into Bane’s skin as he twitched in agony on the floor. A third dragon appeared on his back as it embraced the others.

  Then a fourth sorcerer came forward and taking his torched wand scorched the man’s back with another image of a dragon. “Rise Lord Bane, you are now a member of the Secret Society of Seven Sorcerers!” Bane could only cry.

  The fifth man waited until Lord Bane ceased crying. Then he slowly came forward and placed his wand on the Bane’s back. Its cold tip was comforting. “Rise Lord Bane, you are now a member of the Secret Society of Seven Sorcerers!” A hot, bright flash suddenly appeared from his wand. Bane jumped in pain and shouted, his cry echoed throughout the chamber and then he dropped face down on the floor. The image of another dragon slowly appeared on his back as it curved around the others.

  The last sorcerer held his wand on fire over his head and laughed. Standing just inches away from the stricken Bane on the floor he shouted, “Rise Lord Bane, you are now a member of the Secret Society of Seven Sorcerers!”

  With one swift gesture, he brought the wand down on Bane’s back. Bane curled up pleading for mercy. The sixth dragon appeared on his back.

  Then they all raised their wands and together ordered, “Rise Lord Bane, you are now a member of the Secret Society of Seven Sorcerers!” All six wands came down upon him at once. There was a flash of light and the seventh dragon formed, intertwined with the others.

  Lord Bane rested on the floor for a few minutes covered in sweat; his body trembled and jerked. Slowly he rose to his feet without any assistance. His body shook and his knees quivered. With all his strength, he turned to each one so that they could observe the sign of the Society on his burnt and blistering back.

  Then the first sorcerer reached out and hugged Lord Bane, careful not to touch his back, and welcomed him as the others followed. Lord Bane was now the seventh sorcerer, a member of the Secret Society of Seven Sorcerers.

  The door to the chamber opened and a thin witch with a dark robe and a pointy, black hat entered. She didn’t look or acknowledge anyone. Swiftly she crossed the room directly to the woman and her child. She bent over and removed the child from the woman, leading her quickly out, shutting the door behind them. The woman sat confused. She kept glancing from the door to Bane.

  “Bane, dear, where is that woman taking Celina?” she asked as her voice quaked.

  Lord Bane did not answer. He pulled his cloak over his body and approached her slowly.

  “Bane, answer me, where did that woman take our Celina?”

  Lord Bane reached into his cloak pocket and pulled out his wand. The woman’s eyes widened, her mouth dropped and she began to shake.

  “Bane! Where is that woman… eh, Bane, what are you doing? Bane, what are you doing?” Her cries were deafening.

  Lord Bane aimed his wand at the woman, his wife. He didn’t hesitate. He cocked his head and took aim down his arm and to the tip of his wand. “It has to remain a secret,” he softly told her. With his free hand he held his wrist so as not to miss.

  There was a scream, and a bright flash.

  Clara let go of the other's hands and dropped in her chair. The image vanished as the crystal ball went blank. Clara covered her face crying. “That could have been me.” Clara’s voice fluctuated as she sank in her chair. “They murder everyone, anyone who knows. It has to remain a secret. I left my husband just before he was initiated. He wasn’t aware that I knew. I never told him. It broke his heart.” She sat back in her chair and looked away. “I found the letter in his desk. It was his acceptance letter to the Society. I usually don’t read anyone’s mail, but for some reason this one caught my attention. It was beautiful, all embroidered in gold with large, elegant writing. I read it slowly and as I got to the end it set itself on fire. It burnt the tips of my fingers and I dropped it before it consumed me in its flames. It retained a protective spell against anyone reading it. I was suspicious of my husband before, and now I was frightened. I left that evening without a trace.” She became indignant and jumped to her feet. “That newt of a man, when I get my hands on him I’ll hang him from his …”

  “Then that means,” Agatha interjected, “that if the owner of this crystal ball, Lord Bane, is dead, there is a position available for a new sorcerer and the Society will soon be accepting applications.”

  “Do you think,” Isabella asked, “that Raven Fidgewidge is interviewing for the position?”

  “Yes, and by doing something horrific,” said Beifar. “Ladies, you need to return this crystal ball to Alivan’s Wizards and Witches Corner Store as soon as possible. If what we suspect is true, we can’t let Raven Fidgewidge find this crystal ball missing, it could ruin everything.”

  Agatha jumped to her feet and screamed as she threw her arms up. “Oh my goodness, that young man at the store is Raven Fidgewidge!”