The Chronicles of William Wilde Boxset 1

by Davis Ashura

  Kohl closed in from the right. Yards away.

  Too close.

  William kept the pedal down. He ran the red light and swung left at the intersection. The Scout swayed and nearly tipped. Tires squealed as other cars swerved to either side of them or braked hard. Drivers laid into their horns.

  William didn't let off the gas.

  William’s fists remained clenched and his shoulders tight as they drove further and further from Winton Woods. Every shadowed movement along the road, every darkened alley they passed, every place of hiding had him jumpy. Kohl might be hiding in any of them, ready to leap out and ambush them.

  Jason and Serena also remained tense during the drive along Cincinnati’s streets. The red lights, the endless minutes waiting for the green . . . What if Kohl caught them while they idled? In any other setting, such concerns would have struck him as ridiculous, but earlier that night, Kohl had covered hundreds of miles in a meager few seconds.

  Only when they hit the highway, with the Scout motoring along at over sixty, did William finally relax. With each passing mile he sensed the necrosed falling farther and farther behind.

  The interstate cut through downtown Cincinnati, but the brightly lit city, with many buildings and offices decorated with cheerful Christmas lights, did nothing to lift William’s spirits.

  “Where is he now?” Jason asked. “Still at Winton Woods?”

  “He hasn’t moved,” Serena answered.

  “I say we drive non-stop to Arizona,” Jason said. “We only stop for food and bathroom breaks. Two people awake, one person asleep.”

  “Maybe,” William said, “but even if we did, Kohl just covered five hours of driving in five seconds. Until we figure out how, we’re screwed.”

  “I think I know the answer to that,” Jason said. “Kohl must be able to travel along the anchor lines, no matter how disconnected or how small. For us, the saha’asra in Winton Woods is too small to transport anything other than small objects, but Kohl’s magic must allow him to use a saha’asra, no matter how narrow its anchor line. That has to be the answer. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  “Then we have to make sure to avoid any saha’asras on our way to Arizona,” William said.

  “Monsters, magic, and hidden islands,” Serena said, with a headshake of disgust.

  “I’m sorry you’re stuck in all this,” William said.

  “Being sorry doesn’t really matter now, does it?” Serena said.

  William’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, and an artery throbbed at his temple. While he sympathized with Serena—she’d never see her father again—she wasn’t the only one who had lost someone she loved because of the necrosed. “I’m stuck with this, too,” he reminded her. “I never asked for magic, or some unstoppable killing machine chasing us, and I sure didn’t ask to be the reason for my family’s murder.”

  “Forget it,” Serena said.

  “We shouldn’t be arguing,” Jason said. “We’ve got to figure out our next step.”

  “I’d be happy to,” William said, “but I’m tired of having my apologies thrown back in my face, especially over something I didn’t do.”

  “And I’m unhappy that I might die because of something I didn’t do,” Serena snapped at him.

  “Well then maybe you should—”

  “Stop it!” Jason shouted. “That’s enough.”

  Other than the engine, the Scout fell quiet, but William sensed that Serena still seethed. Well so did he. His head throbbed in time to his pulse, and his shoulders remained tense.

  Jason broke the quiet. “I didn’t know you knew how to use a sword and a bow,” he said to Serena.

  “Did you think only boys should learn martial arts?” Serena asked.

  “That’s not what I said,” Jason replied in an even tone.

  “There’s a lot you should have said to me, though, isn’t there?” Serena demanded.

  William rolled his eyes. Get over it already. No, they hadn’t told her everything. So what? Mr. Zeus and Jason hadn’t told him everything, either. Besides, who told everyone every last thing about themselves? Everyone had their secrets.

  “If the necrosed can travel so easily from one saha’asra to another,” he asked, “what’s kept them from going to Arylyn?”

  “Because Arylyn’s anchor lines are all gated. You have to know the right tune to open them.”

  “Like a song?” William asked.

  “Sort of,” Jason said. “When you’ve been trained as a magus, you’ll know what I mean.”

  “Do you know where all the other magic places are located?” Serena asked.

  “When I was going through Mr. Zeus’ stuff back home, I found a map,” Jason answered. “It’s got all the ones we know of ztted.”

  “Then we need to avoid all of them,” Serena said, echoing William’s earlier advice.

  “Can we use a saha’asra that takes us to the one in Arizona?” William asked.

  “There’s always a few minutes of disorientation whenever we travel along an anchor line,” Jason explained. “We could be resting up for the next part of our journey when the necrosed shows up.”

  “Can we fly to Arizona?” Serena asked.

  “Fly where? I know the saha’asra is in Arizona, but that’s a big state,” Jason said.

  “Hold on. I thought you said you had a map of the saha’asras,” Serena said.

  “I do, but for some of them, all that’s indicated is a rough approximation,” Jason said. “All I know about the one in Arizona is that it’s by a lake.”

  Serena gave him a wide-eyed stare of disbelief. “That’s it? That’s all you got?” She shook her head. “This just gets better and better.”

  William did his best to ignore Serena’s pessimism. “Then what do you think we should do?” he asked Jason.

  “I think we should stay away from all the saha’asras, like you and Serena said, but we should also make sure we’re always around a lot of people,” Jason said. “The necrosed don’t like crowds.”

  “Kohl didn’t seem to mind much when Jake and the others were around,” Serena said.

  “That’s because it was dark and secluded,” Jason replied. “We need to make sure that we’re never caught alone in the middle of nowhere like that. We need to stay in public as much as possible.”

  “Then we drive to this place in Arizona, and we stay with large groups of people as much as we can,” William said. “And once we’re at this saha’asra, how long will it take to open up the anchor line to Arylyn?”

  “Just a few seconds.” Jason said. “And during the drive out there, I can hopefully figure out which lake the saha’asra in Arizona is located next to.”

  They drove through the night, and even Jason ended up taking the wheel. He climbed into the driver’s seat in Louisville, Kentucky.

  As they traveled west on I-64 and the night set in, the traffic grew lighter. Other than a few lonely, long-distance truckers, they had the interstate to themselves. They passed the time in quiet reflection. There wasn’t much to see, as the surrounding fields and farms of Indiana were still and dark.

  None of them wanted to talk much, anyway.

  William took over driving duties in a tiny town called Lynnville, Indiana, and drove for a few hours more. With the sun yet to rise and his eyes heavy-lidded and tired, he saw a sign that made him straighten from his slouch. They approached Wayne City, Illinois, and while they needed to stop for gas, it was a promotion on a billboard that had caught his attention. The advertisement offered an answer to a pressing problem, and William took the exit.

  Several miles later, Serena woke up. “Where are we?” she mumbled as she uncurled herself from the back seat. She and Jason had traded positions in the middle of the night.

  He sat in the passenger seat, dozing with his head resting against the door.

  “Illinois,” William responded.

  “Why’d you leave the highway?” She muffled a yawn.

  “I saw a
billboard,” William said. “It said there’s a campground a few miles up the road, near a town called Wayne City. We might have found what we were looking for.”

  “What was it?” Serena asked.

  “We should be there soon,” William said, not wanting to raise a hope that might turn out to be a whole lot of nothing. “Just wait.”

  Jason stirred. “What’s going on?” he asked, yawning mightily.

  “William saw something that might help us,” Serena said.

  Jason rubbed at his eyes and yawned again. “Where are we?”

  William answered. “And don’t ask what I saw. We’ll know if I’m right in a few minutes.”

  The fallow farms and fields passed by beneath the light of a crescent moon and the stars. The Scout chugged along, and several minutes later, William breathed a sigh of relief. A red-and-white striped tent became visible. A big-top.

  “A circus,” Jason asked, sounding confused. “Why’d you bring us here?”

  William didn’t answer. Instead, he took the turnoff to the campground.

  A large sign at the entrance, similar to the one on the highway, proclaimed the presence of Wizard Bill’s Wandering Wonders and the dates when it would be in town. Small print at the bottom of the display indicated the names of the owners, Bill and Nancy Londoner.

  This early, the circus rides remained closed and unmoving, and the big-top entrance closed up. No one appeared yet awake, but despite the emptiness, a quiet, watchful vigor stirred the grounds, a sense of hidden glories and wonders.

  “What are we doing here?” Serena asked.

  “We need to hide from Kohl Obsidian,” William explained, “and we need to stay out in public.”

  Serena groaned. “You want us to join the circus?”

  “Hear me out,” William entreated. “The circus travels. If this one is heading west, we can join them and we’ll be heading roughly the same direction that we want to go anyway. Best of all, there’s always lots of people around. There’s the circus folk, and the crowds coming to see them. They might even have a bunch of animals.”

  “Necrosed don’t like animals,” Jason said. “They mess with their senses.”

  “This circus has them,” Serena said, pointing out a number of animal trailers and stacks of hay.

  “They’ve even got bears,” William said. He pointed to a hauler.

  “Momma Bridget’s Balancing Bears,” Serena read before turning to Jason with a wondering smile. “Is it just me or is this starting to actually make sense?”

  “It’s not just you,” he replied, smiling in return. “Kohl will never come close to us as long as we’re with the circus.”

  “As soon as the circus folk wake up, we should find out what it takes to join them,” William said.

  “But can we afford to sit here and wait that long?” Serena asked. “Until they wake up, I mean. What if they’re all hungover? Kohl won’t wait for them to sober up.”

  “Kohl’s back in Cincinnati,” William said. “I can feel him. He’s miles behind us.”

  Jason fumbled about through his things before finally hauling out a book. He flipped through the pages and seemed to study it with rapt focus. He grinned in relief after a moment. “No nearby saha’asras.”

  “Then it looks like we’re running away to join the circus,” William said with an answering grin.

  Jason groaned. “I can’t believe you said that.”

  “We still have to convince these people to let us join them,” Serena said.

  “We’ll figure it out. Asra and all that.” Jason wiggled his fingers.

  “Asra?” Serena asked.

  “Magic. I’ll explain later,” Jason said.

  “I’d appreciate it,” Serena said, smiling at him again.

  She seemed to be smiling at Jason a lot all of a sudden, and William had to stifle a tide of conflicted emotions, jealousy amongst them. He had no romantic claims on her, so what was with the feelings?

  THE CIRCUS

  Soon after their arrival, the circus began to rouse. People stepped out of their trailers and moved about to start various tasks. Horses were led out of their stalls, washed down, and let loose in a nearby field.

  From a large hauler echoed a series of deep-throated whoofs.

  “Guess you were right about the bears,” Jason said to William.

  “What?” Serena asked, sitting up in the back seat. She had fallen asleep again while they waited for the circus to stir.

  “I was right about the bears,” William said. “Guess you could call me Nostradamus.”

  “More like Nostradumbass,” Jason said.

  Serena rolled her eyes. “Is it too early to check on the owners?”

  “The sun’s barely risen,” Jason noted.

  “But all these other people are already up and at it,” Serena said.

  “If we want to join the circus, it probably isn’t a good idea to piss off the owners by waking them,” Jason said. “I say we give it a little more time.”

  Serena muttered something inaudible and lay down on the back seat again.

  While they waited, William studied the circus. From a distance, the tents and trailers had a certain allure to them, but up close, they seemed rundown and shabby. Rust marred some of the equipment, and the red stripes on the tent were faded.

  Minutes later, William sat up straight. “It’s time,” he said. “Look.” He gestured to a trailer that proclaimed itself Bill and Nancy’s Place. Someone had just exited. “Bill and Nancy. Those are the owners. Someone just left their trailer. They’re up.”

  “Let’s go,” Serena said, sliding out of the backseat.

  They walked up to the trailer, and their breath misted in the winter air.

  “Where’s Kohl?” Jason asked.

  “Same as before. Way back there,” William said. He rapped on the trailer door.

  “Hold on,” someone grumbled from inside. “This better be important, or I’ll feed your balls to the bears.” A short, pot-bellied man with a red face and a handlebar mustache threw open the door. “What do you want?”

  “Excuse us, sir, but—” William began.

  The door slammed shut in their faces. William shared a look of confusion with Serena and Jason before knocking again.

  “What do you want?” the red-faced man growled. “And if you call me ‘sir’ again, you’ll get my boot up your backside. Hurry up.”

  “Are you Bill Londoner?” William asked.

  “Who’s asking?” the red-faced man demanded followed by an epic belch.

  William mentally rolled his eyes. The red-faced toad was hungover. “We’re but three lost folk who would like to become circus performers,” William said, mangling a quote from The Princess Bride.

  “Who’s at the door?” a nasally voice asked. A tall, thin woman with an impressive bouffant hairdo pressed past the red-faced man.

  Both of them appeared to be in their fifties or early sixties. They wore matching pink-striped pajamas, although the man’s stretched unsuccessfully in an attempt to cover his bulging belly.

  “Who are you?” she demanded. “If you’re a mite slow, I wouldn’t be calling Bill ‘sir’, either. We’re circus folk. We aren’t sirs or ma’ams.”

  William was about to repeat his line about being lost folk, but Jason spoke first. “We were hoping to join your circus.”

  “Not interested,” the man said.

  “Stop being such a grumpy, old troll,” the woman scolded before turning back to William and his friends. “I’m Nancy Londoner. Call me Mrs. Nancy.” She eyed them up and down. “So you want to join our circus, eh? What can you do?”

  “I’m a magus,” Jason said.

  “I don’t know what a magus is, but we already have a magician,” Bill said.

  “What about sword-fighters?” William asked.

  “You any good?” Bill asked.

  “We’re the best.” William infused his voice with enthusiasm.

  “I don’t care. I mean, is your
act any good?” Bill asked. “Are you as good as the ninjas in the movies?”

  William and Jason shared a glance.

  Bill smiled sardonically. “Thought so.”

  “We are good,” Jason said. “But we can also cook and clean, do anything you need.”

  “We could use the help,” Mrs. Nancy said. “We’ve been short-handed ever since Randy and Todd left last week.”

  “Arrested, you mean,” Bill scoffed. “Worthless idiots. Starting a bar fight.” He shook his head. “What about you?” he asked Serena. “Can you do anything more than cook and clean?”

  “I’m an acrobat,” Serena replied, her voice smooth and confident.

  “We’ve got acrobats.”

  “Not like me.”

  “Sure of yourself, aren’t you, girl?” Bill said. “Well, you better not be wasting my time or I’m going to have Sam the Strongman twist the lot of you into pretzels.”

  “Be quiet, Bill,” Mrs. Nancy admonished. “Stop trying to scare them. We can use the help. You know it. And we’re thin on acts since Mysterio the Magnificent quit.”

  “Maybe, but I’d rather be thin on acts than waste the audience’s time,” Bill said.

  Mrs. Nancy rolled her eyes. “At least find out what they can do before passing on them.”

  “I need a drink,” Bill grumbled. “You handle this.”

  “You always need a drink,” Mrs. Nancy shouted at his retreating back before returning her attention to William and his friends. “There are three kinds of folk who want to join the circus. The first love performing. That’s admirable. The second think our kind of life is glamorous. That’s stupid. And the third are running from something, which is sad. What kind are you?”

  “Does it have to just be one kind?” Serena asked. “What if we like to perform, but also have private reasons for wanting to join?”

  Mrs. Nancy broke out into a warm smile. “And the fourth kind—Did I mention there’s a fourth kind?—are smart enough to know that no one is just one type of anything. Head over to the cookhouse. They should have breakfast ready by now. Find Jimmy and tell him Mrs. Nancy said to feed you.”