by Jared Stone
“Yeah, he’ll do that…,” said Gus, letting out a little chuckle. Limping over to the edge of the platform upon which they stood, Gus sat down on one of the tiered steps, legs bent out in front of him and arms wrapped around his knees. Lucian came over and joined him in the same position by his side. Both of them sat in silence for a minute and looked at the scene around them.
“Geez,” began Gus abruptly. “This place is a mess.”
Looking at Lucian, the two of them began to laugh. It was that kind of uncontrollable laugh that is really too loud and too intense to be justified but which stems from a shared sense of complete relief after terror. This continued on for a full minute or more before they both grew silent again, wiping the water from their eyes.
“You did well,” said Gus genuinely, leaning over and pushing into Lucian with his shoulder. Lucian swayed to the right as Gus playfully nudged him, then returned to his previous position.
“Nah,” responded Lucian. “I didn’t. I couldn’t even generate any qi. I just froze.”
“Don’t worry; that’ll come in time,” countered Gus, looking at Lucian seriously. “But you shouldn’t minimize the bravery you showed out there. That was impressive stuff. I’ve been doing this sort of thing for thousands of years, and even I still get scared sometimes!”
This brought a silent, half-hidden smile to Lucian’s face. He hung his head down between his legs so Gus wouldn’t be able to see him blushing. As Gus smiled and turned his head to face forward again, he let out a, “Ha! Dimwit….”
His mouth open wide with the corners angled up into an irresistible smile, Lucian shot his head to the side and said, “Hey! That was all I could think of!” The two of them laughed again, this time for a shorter and less intense period.
“But Zagan still got the dagger…,” Lucian added seriously after the laughter had subsided. He looked down at the floor between his legs again.
“Yeah…,” replied Gus as he did the same. Then, looking up again, he said, “But I have a plan.”
Lucian raised his head and looked inquisitively at his companion. Gus continued: “I reached out to an old friend recently; one of the ones I told you about that day I left you alone after training. She’s been keeping something safe for me for a while, and I think it would really come in useful now….”
Great, more vagueness…, thought Lucian. Instead of saying this aloud, the boy chose to respond with, “Great! Let’s go see her now!” Though his better judgment told him to be cautious with what he agreed to, the practical side of him knew that they would need any help they could get if they were to triumph over the demon in the future.
“Haha, slow down there, champ!” said Gus with a chuckle. “She doesn’t live around here. You and I are gonna have to take a little trip tomorrow.”
Lucian didn’t like the sound of that. “Gus,” began Lucian with hesitation, “where are we going?”
“To Rome,” Gus responded bluntly.
Shaking his head disapprovingly, Lucian said, “I can’t go to Rome. I have no money right now, and my parents would never agree to buying me the tickets. Plus, I can’t just skip school and run off to Europe!” Never mind the fact that all of this is still totally insane, Lucian added in his head.
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” said Gus, smiling. “My friend will have no trouble covering the costs, and we’ll only be gone for a few days. You’ll be back in time for your Tuesday classes; you’ll only need to skip on Monday.”
Staying silent for a moment, Lucian surveyed the destroyed interior of the church. His life had gotten so crazy so quickly, with ancient sages, blasts of energy, and a demon trying to kill him. Absolutely, entirely crazy. But kind of awesome too.
“So, I take it I won’t be making it back home this weekend then?” asked Lucian dryly as he glanced over at Gus.
Gus smiled back timidly and shrugged. “How about next weekend?” he suggested.
“Right...,” Lucian mumbled back in discontentment.
“Come on,” urged Gus, slowly standing and patting Lucian on the shoulder. “Let’s get you back to your room. It’s getting late, and I need to arrange the flight for tomorrow.”
* * *
The man in the Golden Mask was already waiting at the top of the stone staircase as the demon remat-erialized in front of the old mansion. Seeing that his expected visitor had arrived, Samael descended to his level with slow and deliberate steps.
“Zagan!” he exclaimed with false enthusiasm. “You look as though you encountered some difficulties. I do hope, for your sake, that you bring good news.”
The demon glared up at the masked man from his kneeling position and snarled. Reaching into his coat, he withdrew the satin bundle and unwrapped it to reveal the white dagger lying within. Though the night had grown dark, the weapon appeared to give off a light all of its own, glimmering faintly and illuminating its red satin bed.
“Splendid,” said Samael, walking up to his kneeling minion and lifting the dagger out of Zagan’s out-stretched hands. He held the artifact to his masked face and inspected it closely, admiring its exquisite beauty and power.
“Ahhh, Carnwennan,” said Samael wistfully. “The Witch Slayer. The first piece in our grand design.”
“There were complications…,” interjected Zagan disdainfully.
“There are always complications with you!” Samael snapped back, still holding the dagger aloft. He promptly turned to leave, blatantly displaying his disregard for Zagan’s problems, until Zagan spoke again.
“Panhavant intervened.” At this, Samael cut his exit short and slowly turned back toward the demon, who now stood upright. “I was about to kill the Kílán and the boy when Panhavant appeared and prevented me from doing so.”
“Surely, you must be mistaken,” countered Samael, his eyes wide with shock. “The old master does not interfere when it comes to human affairs.”
“I am not mistaken!” replied Zagan, taking a step toward the masked man with his anger rising. “He blasted me clear across a church! Just to save Argus and that pathetic worm, Lucian….”
Samael grew silent and stood for a moment lost in deep thought, his eyes still conveying the look of surprise which must have been worn by his other-wise disguised face. After this brief pause, he said, “Perhaps there is more to this boy, Lucian, than I originally thought. I shall have to look further into the matter.”
“I do not care what you do now,” replied Zagan defiantly. “I have entirely fulfilled my obligation to you and your Lord. I am, therefore, finally free to pursue my own agenda.”
Before he could even attempt to defend himself, Samael had the demon’s throat firmly in his hand. Zagan tried to twist free but found that his limbs were no longer under his own control.
“Your obligation is fulfilled when I say it is,” hissed the masked one as his eyes seemed to flash in the darkness. He delighted momentarily in the fear and helplessness he could sense emanating from the puppet in his grasp. Composing himself again after a moment, he added, “Or are you saying that you are no longer able to be of use to us?”
With this, Samael released his grip on Zagan’s throat, and the demon began to sputter and gasp for air. “No…,” he whispered to the best of his ability.
“Good,” replied the masked man smugly, readjust-ing the tight black glove on his hand. “Now, make yourself scarce and await my further instructions.” He turned again and walked back up to the mansion, leaving the demon resentfully enraged at the bottom of the steps.
10 - Departure
Saturday, November 1st
Lucian found himself in a field, frigidly cold and darkened all around. His heart was beating fast, prepared for something which he understood so deeply it could not be articulated. Before him stood a shadowy figure in a black cloak, but the features were blurry and indiscernible. Beside him, Lucian could feel the heat of a massive golden beast which panted heavily in anticipation. Others were with him too, behind him, supporting him. He didn’t feel a
lone. He felt empowered, even important. But, as the shadowy stranger lifted his arms and screamed something up to the heavens, Lucian’s confidence melted into fear, and a bright flash of gray light shattered the stability of his resolve….
* * *
“Lucian…,” whispered a soft voice. Lucian began to feel his body rocking side to side as something pushing against his shoulder slowly woke him from his deep sleep. Perturbed, Lucian turned away and buried his face into the pillow and grumbled.
“Lucian, get up. It’s morning,” the voice said again, louder this time. Lucian gradually felt the sleep-induced fog clearing and his mind returning to this plane of reality. As thoughts and memories from the night before came flooding back in, he suddenly sat up with a start and turned, shocked, toward this mystery assailant. Arms up in front of him, Lucian readied himself to fend off his attacker.
The room was still very dark, but the moon shining through the still bare window cast light onto the figure. There Gus stood, hunched over by the side of Lucian’s bed, clad in his usual torn up jeans and t-shirt with a brown leather jacket over it. Around his shoulders, Lucian could see two black backpack straps, and in his hands he held two paper cups with lids. His face wore its characteristic grin.
“It’s time for us to go now,” said Gus, his eyebrows raised slightly in a look of confusion and humor. “Coffee?” he offered gleefully, holding out one of the cups to the battle-ready, half-comatose boy.
Lucian looked up through squinted eyes, his hair all a mess, and barely croaked out a “No thanks,” as he slowly lowered his arms down beside him. Gus stood up straight, looking a little disappointed as he placed the drink down on the bedside table. He shrugged. “Oh well…, more for me I guess!” he concluded as he took a sip from his own.
Lowering the cup from his mouth, Gus stood and looked at Lucian, smiling. Lucian stared back at him, head cocked to the side and eyes still barely open. After a few seconds, Gus turned and walked toward the door. Lucian sincerely hoped he would leave and let him go back to sleep. But, reaching out, Gus flipped up the light switch and instantly illuminated the whitewashed walls around them.
“Ack!” cried Lucian, holding up one arm to shield his eyes against the abrasiveness of the light. “What did you do that for!?”
“To help you wake up,” Gus said with a smile still painted on his face. “We have to get up and get ready, or we’ll miss our flight!”
Looking at the window, Lucian could see the pitch black outside behind the silvery-white reflections of the room in the glass. “What time is it?” he asked, still trying to put all the pieces together.
“It’s 4:00,” replied Gus matter-of-factly. “Earliest tickets I could get to Rome on such short notice!”
Lucian had been working on slowly opening his eyes as his pupils adjusted, and he now looked over at Gus. A realization dawned on him. Arms still slumped down to the side and shaking his head in confusion, he said, “Wait…, how did you get in my room?”
“Come on, give me a little more credit than that!” Gus replied, chuckling. “Anyway, get up! We don’t have much time!”
Glaring at Gus, Lucian again shook his head and mumbled, “You are the worst kind of person….” At this, Gus laughed and took a seat on Lucian’s desk chair. He grabbed a book off of Lucian’s desk and flipped it open in his lap. Lucian sat there staring at him for a moment, then finally accepted the truth that Gus wouldn’t be leaving.
Moaning in discontent, Lucian slumped back the covers, stood up, and waddled over to where he kept his shampoo and toothpaste. Grabbing these, he slowly lumbered toward the door.
“Hurry it up! You have about 20 minutes!” Gus reiterated. Moaning once again, Lucian exited his room, leaving Gus alone to sip his coffee and flip through the World History textbook, chuckling at certain sections.
* * *
The taxi pulled up to the terminal before even the faintest sliver of light was able to punch through the steely, cold horizon. Lucian opened his door and slid out into the frigid morning air. Gus soon came popping out right behind him. The driver flipped open the trunk for the men to get their bags, and, after they had been unloaded, Gus handed a large roll of bills to the driver.
“Keep the change,” Gus said with a smile. He then turned and carried his bag into the sliding glass doors of the terminal without waiting for the man’s response. After staring down at the wad of money in shock, the driver then looked up at Lucian wide-eyed. Lucian just shrugged, smiled awkwardly, and quickly turned around and hurried after Gus. These Kílánór sure are charitable! the boy thought to himself, recalling the similar situation from his first encounter with Panhavant on Lotus Avenue.
As the doors slid open before him, Lucian felt a warm rush of air that pleased him greatly in contrast to the biting chill outside. Lucian hadn’t been inside an airport in a long time; not since a family vacation when he was only a child. His parents didn’t travel much, and, when they did, it was mostly by car. Lucian looked ahead into the vast expanse before him, with the walls arching up to a high vaulted ceiling. The airport was practically empty. It was that odd time of the year that’s far enough before Thanksgiving that no holiday travelers were flying yet, but close enough that people were saving their money, time, and energy for their upcoming trips. Also, on Saturday morning, most business travelers were still comfortably in their beds, which was exactly where Lucian wished he could have stayed as well.
Lucian eventually saw Gus standing in front of a ticket counter, and he rushed over to join up with him. As he did so, the woman behind the counter was just handing back the Kílán’s passport and ticket. Turning to look at Lucian, she said, “Ah, you must be Mr. Aarden. If I could just see your photo identification, please.”
Lucian reached into his pocket and pulled out his passport. He was very thankful that his mother had convinced him to renew this essential document before he left for school on the off chance that he would decide to study abroad over the next four years. He had at first resisted, not wanting to put in the effort to fill out the forms and go to the renewal office. When the surprise trip to Italy came up, however, he thanked his lucky stars that his mother had possessed greater foresight than he had.
He handed the passport to the woman over the counter, who gave it and him a couple of quick looks before handing it back to him along with his ticket. “Thank you, sir. You two gentlemen will be leaving from Gate A6. If you go down this way, you will pass through security, and the Gate will be down on the right,” she said, motioning to the side of her booth. Gus thanked her as he and Lucian grabbed their carry-on bags and threw them over their shoulders. They fortunately hadn’t needed to bring any checked baggage, as they would only be in Rome for a day at most. Gathering up everything, Lucian followed Gus in the direction indicated by the woman at the counter.
Even with the international departure, making it through security was a breeze. Throwing his keys and pathetically skinny wallet into a bin alongside his shoes and jacket, Lucian passed through the screening booth without complications. Behind him, Gus grabbed a bin and began emptying his pockets as well. Reaching into various sections of his jacket, he proceeded to pull out three wrapped granola bars, two packages of trail mix, a small box of chocolates, and a pack of gum. Throwing these into the bin, he also reached into his pants pocket and withdrew another snack, this time an energy bar. The oversized male security guard behind the scanner glanced up at him quizzically upon seeing this massive stash of food. With a grin and a friendly nod toward the guard, Gus threw his shoes in behind his pile of snacks and pushed the bin into the scanner with his backpack.
On the other side of the body scanner, a scrutinizing female guard eyed Lucian up and down. Lucian stood there for a couple of seconds feeling acutely self-conscious. It was amazing, he thought, that even though he had done nothing wrong, just this speculation on the part of an authority figure made him feel guilty. Lucian began racking his brain for every last possible action he had performed that could be mi
sconstrued as illegal, but thankfully the woman soon stepped to the side with a motion of her hand to allow him to continue on. Smiling and nodding his head at her unwavering gaze, Lucian continued down the row to claim his bag and other belongings off of the conveyer belt.
Once Gus had joined him again, the two travelers sauntered down to the gate. Lucian threw his things on a chair and slumped down, exhausted, into the one beside it. The severity of this collapse jounced the whole connected row of chairs into a wave-like motion, eliciting a condemning stare from the older man sitting at the other end. “Sorry…,” said Lucian as he turned to him, embarrassed. With a huff, the man cocked his head back to the side and continued reading his newspaper.
Gently adjusting himself in his seat, Lucian turned back to face Gus, but found no one. How strange…, thought Lucian as he looked around for his absent friend. The boy sat there uncomfortably for a time, glancing around frantically and fearing he had been deserted. Then, from down the concourse, Lucian saw Gus briskly walking back toward him carrying several items in his hand. As he came closer, Lucian saw that he was taking a bite out of a sausage, egg, and cheese sandwich in his left hand and holding two other wrapped ones in his right.
Coming up next to Lucian, Gus looked down at the boy while chewing a mouthful. Suddenly stopping mid-chew, Gus managed to force out a, “Arr yoo hurngry?” as little bits of soggy biscuit flew out and landed dangerously close to the boy.
“Yeah, actually,” said Lucian, shifting his legs away from the barrage of tiny food particles. “I’d love one!”
