Dark Prism

by Cherry Adair

  “Tell me about the Book. I’m a hell of a lot more interested in the leys than I am in a giant mythical snake.” He’d heard Ophidian stories since he was a toddler. None of them, as far as Jack was concerned, bore repeating.

  “Yes, I remember. That experience when you were a child,” his father said unsympathetically of Jack’s near-death encounter with snakes as a kid. “Where the hell was I? Yes. As the only sentient being on the planet, he was the supreme and unchallenged god. Solitary for thousands of years, he searched for a mate.

  “Year after year, Ophidian combed the planet, observing changes in the flora and fauna and waiting, always waiting, with the endless patience given to all serpents. At last, he found the goddess Aenari. Her strange and unfamiliar human form fascinated him. She was beautiful, delicate, mystical, and powerful in her own right. A goddess of the night. But she had no interest in a giant snake, no matter how handsome and charming he might be.

  “Rebuffed, Ophidian kidnapped the beautiful Aenari from her home, returning with her to his lair—”

  “High in the mystical and cloudy Pyrenees Mountains,” Jack cut in. “It was a dark and sto—” It was just as well that looks couldn’t kill. Well, actually, they could with some wizards; fortunately, that wasn’t one of his father’s gifts. The old man glared and spoke over him; nothing new there.

  “There he loved Aenari in his own fashion, but he controlled her.” His father repeated the tale in a flat monotone, his face slack now as if he were in some sort of trance; okay, something new after all. Jack began to really listen. “He kept her a prisoner until she bore him many wizard sons, each of whom inherited a unique mix of his parents’ supernatural powers.

  “Only sons?”

  “No. There were females on both sides, but only the males could rule. This is how it’s written. Now shut the hell up and don’t interrupt again. All drew their powers from the leys, making their homes near the most potent lines, those closest to the surface. To the humans who had arisen to dominate the globe, they became known as wizards, shamans, mages; every culture had a different name for them and their powers, but the meaning was the same.”

  His father’s eyes were glazed as he looked into the middle distance, barely aware that Jack was there. “Aenari prayed her sons would never know the dark heart of Ophidian, and she demanded they assist the mortal race, just as their father abused the mortals’ friendship and trust. As humans evolved, turning away from magic, she taught her sons to conceal their powers so they could walk in tandem with man. Trapped and miserable within the mountains, she told her sons that only love would bring them happiness—without this tender human emotion, their very souls would wither and die.”

  Jack wondered savagely if his father had ever truly loved his mother.

  “Aenari understood that with great power comes great responsibility,” his father continued. “When the soil of the farmers’ lands required nourishment, the wizards provided floods to blanket the earth with rich, dark nutrients. They oversaw the eruption of volcanoes to even the balance of overcrowded vegetation. Ecological balance was imperative, and she guided them well. The wizards also kept a careful watch on the duration of human wars and the natural order of plant and human life. Over the centuries, many of these wizard offspring became leaders, teachers. Men of thought and science.”

  Jack didn’t believe his father had ever loved the frail woman he’d married. It was just something a guy did in those days. His father had told him flat-out that all he’d ever wanted was a son. But Jack had no idea why such a cold, impersonal man would desire a child. He was a shitty parent. Always had been.

  “Not all of Aenari’s offspring were good. Some were tainted by Ophidian’s dark side, and instead of protectors, they became warriors. Mayhem and chaos erupted.”

  His father materialized a glass, magically tilted the bottle beside him to add two fingers of his preferred scotch, and brought the glass to his mouth while still firmly bound. He drank it all down; then the glass disappeared.

  “What did Aenari do about that? Didn’t she try to stop them?”

  “Sometimes evil is just—evil. You can’t change it.”

  Yeah. Jack got that. He looked at his father. “Go on.”

  “Aenari loved her sons and their sons too, but as time passed, some were filled with arrogance and a sense of entitlement, while others blended with humans, only using their magic for the good of mankind. Proud, Aenari named this group of sons Aequitas, Keepers of the Earth.”

  Jack’s skin prickled, and he leaned forward in his chair. Wizard school taught the basics of wizardry. But what his father was telling him was the history of his own line. Jack was Aequitas through and through. If nothing else, his father had always been proud that he’d produced another Aequitas wizard. Kept the line alive. Of course, Jack had often wondered if his father could possibly be an Omnivatic since he was such a mean-spirited bully, but that bad-seed branch of the family had been killed off thousands of years ago, so it just came down to him being a bastard.

  “Ophidian, not to be outdone, named his unholy faction Omnivatic—All-Powerful. Those sons were his pride and joy, and nothing they did was discouraged. The two factions fought night and day; months turned into years, and years into centuries as the brothers fought to the death—all for supremacy over mankind.

  “Ophidian sat back, encouraging the Omnivatics to battle their brothers. No one else had matching wizard power; no one else had their magical strength. No one else wanted to rule the earth as much as they did. Over the millennia, each wizard developed extra magical powers. While teleportation, becoming invisible, and levitation were common, each generation developed superpowers possessed only by a select few. They used these unique superpowers to vanquish one another when the Omnivatics reverted to snake form, which was the only time when they were at all vulnerable to attack.

  “Watching his sons’ battles was fine entertainment, and Ophidian worked both sides, fueling the discords so that their wars would escalate.

  “The Aequitas couldn’t allow their brothers to rule, knowing the devastation this would cause. They appointed a governing council to oversee and resolve all disputes. The Aequitas Council of Twelve was called the Archon. Emulating their brothers, the Omnivatics formed a council they called the Erebus, not to oversee but to instigate further chaos. The Omnivatics didn’t just battle their Aequitas brothers; they battled one another for supremacy as well. There was only room for one ruler.

  “Over thousands of years, Omnivatic brother killed brother, until their lair in the Pyrenees was littered with whitened bones. Each was determined to gain supremacy and become the leader of the Erebus.

  “Eventually there were twelve brothers ruling on each side. Those sons had sons, although it was hard to find human women who could survive bearing the Omnivatics’ young, and their offspring became Half wizards. They were lesser wizards with weaker powers, but just as destructive as their more powerful fathers.”

  “Plenty of Halfs at school,” Jack pointed out. “Most of them decent guys.”

  His father again used magic to materialize and refill his glass, draining it as if his son hadn’t spoken. “As the wizard battles raged, their attacks on one another caused tidal waves, earthquakes, floods, and hurricanes. Earth was in chaos. Aenari and her Aequitas sons were stunned at the resilience of mortals as they rebuilt their world time after time. No amount of death or destruction defeated them.

  “Aenari called a forum, fearing that one day humanity would lose the battle once and for all. Her Aequitas sons wanted peace—a chance to live normal lives with the women they loved. Her Omnivatic sons thrived on tragedy. Aenari cursed them—Ophidian’s favorites. She made them sterile so that they couldn’t breed more darkness. She cursed the Omnivatic females, causing them to become barren for a thousand years. Furious at his wife’s meddling, Ophidian gave his favored sons the ability to assimilate the powers of all those they killed, as compensation for his mate’s curse.”

  �
�What the hell does that mean?” Jack asked, intrigued. “They sucked the juice out of their enemies? That’s pretty damned sick. What happened to the wizard who’d had all his powers—what? Extracted?”

  “An Omnivatic entered an enemy’s body to withdraw his power, causing his victim to temporarily have their joint powers. When he was done, the Omnivatic evacuated the shell. His prey eventually weakened and died. The attacking wizard gained not only his foe’s magical strength, but all his superpowers as well.”

  “Scary shit.” But damned cool, too.

  “Not thwarted, Aenari cursed the Omnivatics again. Though they, like her good sons, were capable of walking unnoticed among men, she cursed these ancient wizards to return to their home high in the Pyrenees every thirty-three days, when they would return to their father’s form. For twenty-four hours, they were to revert to their snake form and shed their skins and rejuvenate in the manner of snakes, to regain both their human form and their powers.”

  “If the Omnivatic did not return home at the specified time, he retained his powers but could not change back from snake to human form. Aenari knew their weakness was her Aequitas sons’ strength.”

  His father upended the bottle to refill his glass. “Almost indestructible in human form, the Omnivatics were easier to kill in their original snake form. But since they were indistinguishable from other reptiles, they were almost impossible to identify. Only wizards with similar or stronger power levels could destroy them.

  “The rejuvenation process gave the Aequitas an opportunity to kill them and also, time to aid the earth’s healing.

  “Ophidian retaliated by cursing his Aequitas sons. No longer immortal, they must live among the mortals they so admired. They could marry and have children, but their lives would be pitifully short, only a mortal’s span.”

  His father fought briefly against his bonds, then gave up. He shot his son a vile look, which Jack barely noticed.

  “After a thousand years of conflict, Aenari caught Ophidian when he was in his nest and at his most vulnerable. She flung his body into the firmament, using powerful magic to prevent him from returning to earth. Ophidian transmogrified into a powerful comet. Aenari’s spell prevented him from making contact with the earth, but when he got close enough his magnetic powers pulled at the planet, increasing the Omnivatics’ power a thousandfold.

  “The Omnivatics had one chance at procreation. As Ophidian’s comet orbited close to Earth every three hundred and thirty-three years, the Omnivatics had mere hours to find a fertility goddess to take their seed. The magnetic pull on his sons while they were shedding enabled a few—under the right circumstances—to sire offspring.”

  The sexual frenzy part of the story had always interested Jack. But now, as the history of the Aequitas unfolded as a whole, he was fascinated by the ancient hurling of curses, and by the ability of the Omnivatics to suck the powers from their enemies. He had a thousand questions, but he kept quiet. The Book was his now. When he needed answers, the book would supply them.

  “Ophidian changed the comet’s trajectory, causing massive volcanic eruptions, enormous tidal waves, and huge temperature fluctuations, keeping the Aequitas too busy helping humanity to search for their Omnivatic brothers. Throughout history, and despite these checks and balances, the Omnivatics became the scourge of the earth—despots and torturers, dictators and anarchists. Their powers strongly linked to the invisible leylines and the land, they caused wholesale death and destruction by instigating ‘natural disasters’—earthquakes, tsunamis, and volcanic eruptions.

  “The Wizard Wars happened so far back in time that the stories passed into the realm of mythology. And with every passage of the comet, the Aequitas destroyed more of the known Omnivatics, until finally they became extinct.”

  When Jack was young, his father’s stories about the snakelike wizards had been told to scare Jack straight. That had worked until he was about twelve. Then the fists had taken over, and that had scared him a hell of a lot more. Those days were now over. He’d physically restrained his father for the first time in his life. It wouldn’t be the last.

  “The Omnivatics are just a myth. A parable of good and evil,” Jack pointed out flatly, getting to his feet. “I don’t get what any of this has to do with the Book of Answers.” He released his father’s restraints when he reached the door, but put a binding spell on him to keep the older man in place. He didn’t put it past him to attack when Jack’s back was turned. “It’s not like the Omnivatics were real.”

  “Be sure of that, Jack. Be very sure as you go through life with those high ideals of yours.” His father’s smile was pure evil as he leaned back and crossed his legs. “I’d watch out for snakes if I were you, son.”

  Chapter Two

  The instant Jack materialized into an industrial-size kitchen, he felt the pulse of dark, malignant magic surrounding him. The pungent stink of burnt food didn’t mask the distinctive metallic smell of blood. Under the circumstances, he chose to remain invisible until he knew what in God’s name was going on.

  The place was a shambles—cabinet doors ripped from hinges, shelves broken, drawers yanked out and upended. Beans, rice, and utensils were strewn across the stainless countertops and tiled floor as if some maniac had swept through, determined to wreak the most havoc possible.

  Christ. Not seeing Sara the moment he’d teleported into the kitchen—when he’d been goddamned braced for it—struck him straight in the dead, hollow space that had once been his heart. The sensation was physical. He ruthlessly shoved it away. He never wanted to set eyes on her again. But he’d never wished her dead. Keep looking, damn it.

  The counters and white walls of the L-shaped kitchen were splattered with a hell of a lot of red blood and brownish-gray brain matter. Someone had been seriously pissed off.

  He glanced down the length of the room. A small group of shocked nonwizards—none of them Sara, and clearly household staff—pressed against the pantry shelves and huddled against the walls, the only sound their erratic breathing. Clearly they’d witnessed the events that had left the grisly scene but were too terrified to run.

  Making a quick decision, Jack did a swift Mindwipe, replacing their memories of what they’d witnessed with the knowledge that today was their day off. Then he teleported them to safety outside and sealed the door. They’d go about their business unaffected. For now.

  Despite the disorder, the kitchen was eerily quiet. Jack was über-alert, listening for even the smallest sound as he moved quietly through the chaos. He felt the traces of half a dozen wizards, but faintly, indicating they’d been and gone.

  Circumventing one of the large islands, he stopped short, his heartbeat accelerating. Not gone. Dead. Five bloodied corpses were sprawled on the saltillo floor between the prep area and a giant industrial sink. Bile rose up the back of his throat.

  They were all wizards. Jack knew because of their residual power traces—the signature a wizard left behind when he or she passed through a space. Through the gore, the bodies were almost impossible to ID, other than whether they were male or female.

  Sara wasn’t one of them. He let out his breath slowly, not even aware that he’d been holding it.

  With a sense of relief, he moved down the long, narrow kitchen. A series of stainless steel–topped islands ran down the center between long expanses of counters and cabinets. Whatever prep work was being done at the time of the attack was now in disarray on the counters or dashed to the floor. Small appliances hung from their still plugged-in cords, and a brown bowl had strewn fresh lemons underfoot.

  The miasma trace of evil lingered in the air-conditioned room. Nimbly bypassing a dozen pots and pans scattered on the tile floor beside a mangled wrought-iron pot rack, Jack had to consider that he might, in fact, be too late. His heart skipped several beats at the thought.

  Maintaining invisibility, he kept moving. But as far as he could see, whoever—whatever—had caused this was long gone.

  He decided that as soon a
s he saw Sara, as soon as he was sure she was alive and relatively unharmed, he’d leave without her being any the wiser. Jack hoped like hell his optimism wasn’t misplaced. Considering the state of the kitchen, she could very well be dead.

  The clatter of metal crashing against a hard surface broke the silence like a series of loud gunshots. Heart pounding, Jack raced around the corner of the L.

  A burly man in a chef’s coat screamed unintelligibly as he ripped plates from a shelf and dashed them by the handful to the floor among several cast-iron skillets.

  Jack stopped in his tracks. Shit! It all came together. He knew the lunatic: Sara’s father-figure Alberto Santos. And since Alberto and Sara both worked for Baltzer, and Baltzer Enterprises was building hotels in South America, Jack knew where he was, even though he’d never been there before.

  Baltzer’s estate, in the jungles of South America.

  Double shit.

  There were few things Jack disliked more than Grant Baltzer. Jungles were right up there at number three.

  Santos was shimmering in and out as though unable to maintain a teleport, his furious yells swelling and fading as he screamed at someone blocked from Jack’s view by his rotund body. The guy stopped throwing things and was now waving around the bloody carving knife clutched in his other hand. He moved with superhuman speed.

  Clearly deranged. Hopped up on drugs? Question was: Where the hell was Sara?

  Jack shimmered the twenty feet separating them, coming up behind the knife-wielding chef, who had a hundred and fifty pounds on him and was a head shorter. Santos, his white chef jacket and pants saturated with scarlet, feinted and slashed, his apparent goal to fillet the two women he’d cornered. Which answered Jack’s burning question.

  Sara’s location. Right in the damn thick of things. Six feet from an armed, deranged wizard-gone-bad.