by Kezzy Sparks
A kick is aimed at me, but just as I sidestep to avoid it, I glimpse a shadow descend down the tree fast. It’s Ratan; oh God he betrayed me. What a wily devil.
Ratan aims for Zed. I jump to Zed’s aid and sting Ratan with my stinger. The bolt I release is powerful enough to stun him. He is not finished though, and his horn wiggles. I repeat the blow with another powerful sting, and his head flops. The horn now dangles as he groans and writhes.
To finish him off, I produce the graveyard wand and tap it into him. Momentarily, he starts to vaporize. A huge stinking cloud of ash rises from his remains. Some of the ash drifts into the house, but the effects, if any, it will have on the enemy I don’t know as yet.
Soon, out here though, the evidence of that shows. The witches and wizards cough and sneeze, furiously rubbing at their eyes. The demon ash clearly is poisonous, and Ana saved us a lot when she gave us that antidemon lotion, otherwise we also would have been sickened.
I take advantage of the melee and jump into the door. The Mage is inside and rides on a broom. She must have been given a gleaming brass sword, for we never saw her with this one in Alden. I fire a bolt at her, but at the first hit, she doesn’t flinch. Instead she swings toward me. I fire a second, and then she tumbles, but not before she has opened a cut on my ear.
On the other side of the action, I glimpse Casey near the main door, and he is with someone. Behold, Megan has done the most dangerous thing; she has come in. If she is captured, we are in trouble because we will have to fight to rescue her, with little resources.
Both she and Casey face that other majestic witch, whose name I don’t know yet. Casey holds the case and can’t fight with that precious thing in his hands. God knows I’m still proud of him, because he was able to rush to the room and grab it. The only bad thing is he couldn’t steal away to the car as we instructed.
“Anarchy, Anarchy,” calls The Mage. “Activate the hellfires.”
I fire at her again as she shouts. She collapses immediately, but that’s the moment the flames suddenly appear. They are huge, and I wonder if it’s the hellfires or some other defense system that the majestic witch named Anarchy activated.
A ball flies toward me. I dive to the side, but it leaks on my shoulders. One explodes on Anastasiana’s face, but she survives. There isn’t any heat though, I suddenly realize. The demon ash hasn’t only poisoned the air but also the wards, hence the impotent flames. I let go my stinger at the other witch. The pulse shoots forward and she crashes.
After the flames have cleared, I notice a big man in expensive dress tackle Casey. The man surprisingly is unaffected by the demon ash, which shows right away that he has no magic, and I wonder what he was doing at this revelry. He must be the businessman I saw that first time around. His sole focus is on the brown case, and now he tries to wrest it away from Casey. They fight for it, but when he has almost worn it, Casey punches him, and the case clatters to the floor. Zed rushes in and starts to kick him as well as punch him with fists.
Megan is not to be left out and jumps in. This is risky, but she does something unbelievable. She pummels the businessman who again was clawing for the case, shoves him aside and then grabs it.
In the same instant, I move closer to that action. “Run away,” I implore Megan. “Casey you go, too.”
I sting the big man, who already was down anyway from Zed’s kicks and Megan’s blows. Meanwhile hordes emerge from the basement. This is going to be tough. I am so tired. There is just too much noise; people step over one another in confusion, and fight for their breaths as the poisonous vapor chokes them.
Casey and Megan make a sudden but well-timed rush out the door. Their move is smart, but I am not going to follow behind them right away. Instead I opt for perhaps one of the riskiest things: dash to that room where the glass tubes are and knock everything down. Worked up, I also smash everything I see, the vials, tubes, and china dishes. The whole floor becomes a mess, but before I speed back to Ana and Zed, I throw down the gas burner hoping it might start an inferno.
Fired up, I dart back to the bigger action near the front door. Zed is already calling, “let’s go, let’s go.” The enemy is stunned, sickly out of breath, and in confusion. Instantly I see the sense in Zed’s command: there is no need to continue fighting, and the best thing is to run for it. Instantly, Zed’s one hand grabs me, and the other, Ana, and the three of us dive out.
We fly straight to the cars, not caring if anyone is giving chase.
Seventy-three
I am hyperventilating as I jump into the Toyota. Megan and Casey are already huddled inside, still panting. A halo of satisfaction hangs over them, and most markedly, they pay greater attention to the case, clutching it tight as if their lives depend on it.
Their love for one another is so endearing, but the greater satisfaction for me is what this whole scene suggests: that they opened the case and found what was inside it to be to their liking. Indeed I could never ask for anything more in life at this time, and I am so happy for them. I thank my gut instincts for promising them I was on the right path all this time.
The clock on the dash says it’s after two. I am so exhausted; the fight with all those rogue witches and wizards has taken its toll on me, and my eyes close unbidden. My whole system has been battered by the exposure to ward power and demon poison, and the bad energy burns my muscles. I fear I might not be able to reach Dick Road before I go numb.
As we start the drive, Megan taps my shoulder. “What happened in that backyard, with all the noise?”
“Long story,” I say, and then think to fling the question back at her. “And you, what did you do?”
“Not too much,” she says. “I heard the bangs and screams and then decided I should die with Casey. The rest just followed.”
Now I only cast her a backward glance as acknowledgement, since I have to concentrate on the road. It’s a miracle I am able to keep the car steady as I am almost falling into a dreamy state. It’s been a heartbreaking and harrowing two weeks.
As we reach the I-90, I steal just one moment to turn my head back and glimpse the star couple of tonight. Megan still cradles the brown case in her lap, almost like she is holding a baby. Her face is as beautiful as I first saw it, but it’s the happiness on Casey’s that strikes me the most. I remember meeting him for the first time that day, him walking into the office with his hands covering his groin. Now he doesn’t have to do that. For the first time in many long and painful days, he can be the man he wants to be.
We exit the I-90 at Walden, and then go up Union. The Crooked Uncle is just up the road, and there is still time before the last call.
“Who needs a drink?” I say with a croaky but celebratory voice. Honestly, I think it’s deserved.
“Not me,” says Megan as I catch her gaze at the case.
“Me, neither,” says Casey.
I wonder why the reluctance, until I realize the Crooked is the exact place where the whole saga began, and it would be improper to end up there. Added to that, there is the risk that while we are in the bar toasting one another, someone could steal the case, starting another drama nobody wants on their hands. It’s not worth the risk, so we pass.
We finally get onto Dick. Numbness works itself into me as I edge into the driveway. My eyes are almost closing as I park.
Megan is first to get out. She grips the box tight. Casey follows.
Something flashes in my eyes, and I notice that the lid is monogrammed with the initials NZ. I wonder who, among the myriad of people who came into contact with that object of our search, stenciled in those letters. It has been a long and trying road to get to this point, and I am glad it’s over.
I struggle to get out myself, so to give them a final bye. My work is done, and everything ends here. Honestly, I have no intention to get inside.
“Goodnight guys,” I say as I stretch my arms out for a hug.
“Don’t you know, you aren’t done?” says Megan, smiling mystically.
; “Guys please, now what?” I say because I can’t decipher what’s going on in her head.
“You have to show us how to attach it back. You are the wizardess.”
“Megan is very right,” Casey says, eyeballing me.
The task presented jolts me awake. I hadn’t thought about it. Perhaps the thing needs a chant. My intuition, though, is that it must be easy enough, because what belongs to you will always want to snap back.
“Please, Mel, won’t you?” Megan pleads again.
Hearing her, I rack my mind. Me, touch it and help to put it back on, oh dear God, no.
“You guys have seen a lot,” I say finally. “You are now magicians in your own right. Go in and try to do it while I wait.”
Megan wants to object and drag me in, but her hands are full. “At least you must see if we’re doing it the right way,” she petitions once more.
Honestly, I want to help, but it’s too inappropriate, so I just shrug and then take a seat on the porch concrete. “Find me here if you’re having problems,” I say. “And now please close your door—bugs.”
Reluctantly Megan and Casey enter and shut. The scratching sound of wood meeting metal latch causes me to doze off.
Maybe it doesn’t take a minute, or it took hours, but the door is opened for the last time, and two beaming faces peer at me with a bright light behind them.
“You are a star, Mel, it worked very fine,” says Megan. “We are now truly man and wife.” Her lips look plumper and shiny, and she licks them.
A tear drops from her eye, but there is a glow of ecstasy behind the salty moisture.
“Congratulations to you two.” I stand up and say. “May all your days be filled with gladness.”
“Yours, too, Mel. Thanks.”
The door swings shut, the light is snuffed out, and it’s a mystical dark again. This is the end. I have to go.
Epilogue
And so it was that the dick mystery came to a resolution. One week after the Fiends battle I received a hefty package in my work mail. It was from Casey.
In it was a box of chocolates, a very nice copper plaque to hang on the wall, several gift cards—including one from my favorite liquor store, and then an envelope with a bank certified check, one to an amount well above what the guild expects us to charge for our work.
So everything remained fine with my client—it was a thing I had been uncomfortable to ask, but now could assume. Honestly, I had been worried there could be problems with magical contamination and other issues. His had been lost for close to two weeks, unsafe in the hands of evil witches and wizards, and who could guarantee what they had or hadn’t done. Anyway now it was all fine. Megan was a happy and satisfied wife.
To wind up the saga, I resolved on paying a visit to Eve Lynn, the architect-in-chief of the whole crisis. I had held off serving the Pendle curse on her, waiting for the outcome with regards to Casey. A very heavy sentence was planned if Casey never got to perform again like the man he used to be, but now that he was normal, a few years could be knocked off the planned punishment.
I phoned Eve and told her I was coming around six p.m.—on a Friday of all days. Truly, she could not stop the bomb that was coming her way, and I let her know if she tried to evade me, things would actually be worse.
On the day, the atmosphere was magical, the blue sky only broken up by small patches of the whitest clouds I had ever seen. The air was summery, the flowers blooming in it. I made sure to pack into my tote the all-important Pendle wand. It’s a great symbol of justice and let’s anybody practicing criminal magic know that punishment lies ahead.
Done with all the packing, I then drove toward Bryant, following the roads I imagined Eve Lynn took as she came to attack me with a sigil that fateful night. I recalled the horrors that led to my Vic’s demise, and a new anger whirled up inside me, but I refused to let it influence the severity of the sentence I had in mind.
At exactly six, I knocked at her door, and she opened. I didn’t need to sit while serving the Pendle.
“For plotting to deprive a man of his organs of reproduction,” I said, sounding very lawyerly. “I’m laying on you a curse of five years of vaginal shutdown.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means,” I explained, “that for the next five years you won’t be able to have sex or reproduce.”
She shook her head, but I couldn’t discern whether it was disbelief or a lack of comprehension altogether.
“What that entails is that your sissy is hereby sealed to prevent penetration by anything, be it a finger, dildo, dick or anything. Only excluded from that are medically required insertions.”
“But I was thinking of getting married.”
“You shall have to forget that—but oh did I tell—you will be able to pee and have your monthlies as normal.” Now I sounded truly doctorly.
I left her crying. Justice is justice.
We wait for the Witch Court to decide if the punishment is fair. She could argue for a lesser sentence by saying she only asked The Mage to harm Casey, but how exactly that was achieved was The Mage’s own evil idea.
About that, we will see. She must not forget, however, that she tried to harm me and Kay. That is also something she could be punished for, but for now, I will rest my case with the five years of vagina lockdown.
***
The McLongs indeed had their happily ever after. They slept together almost every day, though they decided to put off having kids for a couple of years.
In spite of the trouble that had once befallen Casey, they still would describe their sex life as sizzling and without boredom. They loved one another so much, to the point that they declined any work or social arrangement that would separate them for even one night. Nothing could come between them, and they didn’t need anything else to make them happier.
One day, however, after they had exhausted their creativity in bed, they decided to lease a new talent.
“Just for one night,” said Casey to Megan. “It will do us well both. And we will learn new tricks from the girl.”
The woman who came for the threesome didn’t look as young as she was on her Facebook page. She was still beautiful, though, and wasn’t even too old—maybe actually a couple of years younger than Megan.
Nikki, she said her name was. She had big stripper-size teats and a generously firm butt.
The tripartite experience was truly uplifting and eye opening. Nikki was a pro, but there was something of Casey that impressed her so greatly.
“I once saw a big dick like that,” she said, gawking. “But it was totally magical. You could take it off and then put it back on, any time.”
Any other couple would have laughed their asses off at this crazy little fantasy, but Casey and Megan sat up and listened with girded interest.
“Really,” said Megan. “You could take the dick off?”
“Yes, pretty easy.”
“And then put it back on?” asked a wide-eyed Casey.
“Yes. Just like that.” Nikki clicked her fingers. “And you never could tell the difference. Everything would be like original, nothing loose, nothing unsightly.”
“Crazy little story,” said Megan, pressing her lips tight to suppress a building chuckle.
“Totally unbelievable,” chimed in Casey. “But, Nikki, where did you see that? Please, enlighten us.”
“An acting partner of mine showed it to me. He still lives here in Buffalo. A sorry case of a failed actor, if you ask me.”
“And what did you guys do with the magic phallus?” Megan asked.
“I stole it before he even used it with me. Imagine he was talking of going to Vegas. With it.”
“Stole it?” Casey mused.
She told everything. How she put the super dick into her monogrammed storage case, chucking her dildo toy to underneath the actor’s couch. The penis fascinated her so much, but she wasn’t into enjoying things that were not meant for her, so she just gave it to her brother who worked at
the research center—so it could be studied. “He didn’t hand it in physically, but mailed it,” she said. “That was the end of it, gone for good.”
“What a weird tale,” said Megan, fighting not to show her the velvet-lined case that had gone on a long journey. It still lay preserved in the nightstand to her side, ever so close to hand.
“Crazy,” said Casey.
“Truly weird,” Nikki agreed. “But also a nice little dick story.”
