Chapter 33
“And that’s it, you think?” Exhausted, Jack followed Milo back to the fourth portal in Busse Woods. They had been tracking roaming shapeshifters all day and sending them to Patagonia. Graham Lightner and his team rejoined them after casting another round of spells that kept the protection around the market mostly intact. Another plume of smoke had just disappeared. The black cloud grew smaller, though not by much.
“Yeah. But keep an eye out.” Milo ordered. “Graham. What’s the word?”
Graham’s sallow, pale face was covered in soot, and a five o’clock shadow had begun to grow in. He had been caring for the protection spell for too many hours. He wiped his hands across his brow, leaving behind his handprint, and frowned, creating deep lines in his forehead and around his mouth.
“All that’s left is the protection spell,” Graham said. “Did you hear about Cham?”
“What happened to Cham?” Jack asked. He’d been with Milo all day and had no idea when he heard whatever he heard.
“I got a text. The incinerators in the market blew, Cham was in the elf dormitory when it caved in. Bitherby saved him. He and Annie are fine in the temporary hospital in Argentina.”
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me? I’ve been worried about them for days.” Jack paced in the mud and grasses.
“Jack. I’m sorry. We’re all under stress. I saw the note and moved on. I can’t change what happened, and we all have our jobs to do.” Milo said pointing toward the clearing and the nonmagicals that were still loitering inside.
“Then let me help. I can do more than search for shapeshifters.”
“We’re going to have to say something to the world regarding this. Maybe then we’ll have you help us.” Graham advised. “Until then we need to make sure that the rest of the shapeshifters are out of the woods and that we’re still fanning the protection spell. I think it’s cleaned out. We’ll be ready to blow it then.”
Jack followed Graham’s gaze to the sky and back to the wizards in the middle of the forest. “Um, won’t that still leave questions? An explosion in the middle of the forest?”
“It’s a magical bomb. We’ll wipe the market from the plane of existence, so when the protection spell fails, there won’t be anything here,” Graham explained.
“So while you do that, can I go to Patagonia?” Jack asked Milo. The wizard guard manager surveyed the forest, listening for nonmagical voices that were still trying to get a handle on the phenomenon of the fireless smoke.
“Actually, Jack, you come with me. I can use you in the market,” Graham advised.
“I agree. You okay with that, Jack? I can’t have you near the ring. Protection and all,” Milo explained.
“Sure, whatever. I’ll help in the market,” Jack said.
Milo waved and teleported before Jack could protest.
“Come on, Jack. Consider yourself lucky. You are one of the only nonmagicals to ever see inside of THE black market.” Graham offered a smile and waved Jack forward.
“I’ll consider myself lucky,” he griped. If Graham heard his tone he ignored it and led Jack toward the clearing, close enough to hear the din of voices of those still observing the smoke. Before hitting the crowd, they walked a narrow path roughly four inches wide.
“Watch the ivy. It’s called needleweed, and once it attaches to you it will grow quickly, completely surround you, and strangle you.”
“You have the creepiest things in this world,” said Jack. As instructed he kept himself to the thin strip of mud and snow, teetering slightly as he tried too hard to not step on the vines.
I wonder if he’s exaggerating.
Jack didn’t want to find out and sidestepped his way to Graham, who stood in front of an empty space, staring at it as if there was something there.
“It’s one of the only remaining portals,” Graham said. He reached his hand through out in front of him and held it there before pulling it back. “It’s wrong though.”
“What’s the matter with it?” Jack worried, wringing his hands since he was afraid to start pacing against the needleweed.
“It was designed to work with the protection spell. Anyone nonmagical coming near would feel a chill, an ominous sense of dread.”
Jack reached his hand into the air. He felt a buzz and pulled his hand away.
“It’s vibrating,” Jack said.
Graham chuckled. “It’s the remnant of the magic. For many millennia, the portals fought to control this space with the nonmagical world. Just weeks ago, if you came near one of these the cold would chill you to the bone. The magic’s dying.”
He sounded as though he was sad about the loss of the market and the loss of the magic in this place.
“It sounds like you’ll miss the market,” Jack commented. He understood on one level, the desire to monitor the market and the difficulty it would be to do that now. But this seemed weird.
“In a way, yeah. Ask Annie and Cham or any of the other wizard guards. There was something about being in the market. It was all about control.” Graham twisted his cursed athame in his fingers and stabbed the weakened portal. It sparked to life with a shot of lightning that flew from the portal, hitting a dead branch behind them. A fire took hold of the evergreen. Jack jumped.
Graham waved a palm, putting out the fire before it could spread in the forest for real.
“Does it always do that?” Jack asked.
“Nope. It’s all wrong,” Graham responded. The two of them watched the portal grow and stretch, not quite to its normal size, but large enough for two men to enter. “Ready?” Graham asked.
Eight months ago, Jack had been dragged into the world of magic quite by accident when the nonmagical Princess Amelie was killed with a hex. The journey had led him through a world he previously had no idea existed. He’d been to Wizard Hall; he’d watched them tamper with evidence for the cause of saving magic. Jack never imagined what he would see when he stepped through the portal.
The amazingly large space stood before him, and though one foot was still in Busse Woods, this market wasn’t there.
Jack followed Graham through the portal, which closed unceremoniously, leaving them inside the remains of the market, a desolate, fire-ravaged empty space.
“It looks like a bomb already exploded,” Jack said.
“Yeah. You should have seen it before. It would’ve blown your mind.” Graham smirked and led Jack through the aisle covered in a thick layer of ash.
Jack could see by the piles of debris and the burnt canvases that were once tents just how many merchants there must have been in the market. The piles dotted the land.
There must have been thousands!
The market stank. Jack held his arm across his face. Smoke hung above the market, undulating and rolling, bumping against the remaining protection spell.
“Who are these people?” Jack asked as Graham perused a pile of junk stored in a cart. There were bottles filled with liquids of all colors, strange body parts, and books. It was a veritable treasure trove of odd junk.
“Members of the Wizard Guard from the United States, Argentina, Europe, and Asia. We have other departments here from Wizard Hall. There are a lot of dead shapeshifters, and the bodies need to be tagged and returned to their families if we can get them out. The group over there…” Graham pointed to several wizards and witches tending to what Jack thought was an exceptionally large lizard.
A dragon?
“That group is the Zoological Society. They care for, investigate, and observe magical creatures, depending on circumstances. There are several magical creatures left here. They’ll clean up the carcasses and transport those still living. Many of them are here illegally, anyway. It’s a big mess.”
A group of witches collected books, torn pages from other books, magical items in glass containers, and boxes of stuff in general.
“Most of my group is over there. The fires didn’t affect that area and there’s a lot of dangerous magical items. We’re
almost done collecting what we can,” Graham said.
“What exactly was sold here?” Jack inquired.
“Anything. Potions, crystals, herbs, illegal and legal artifacts, wands, magical animals. It sold everything you could want.” Graham’s eyes swept the vast expanse of the burning market. “It will be hard to track anything for the time being.” His eyes stopped on a group of wizards around one of the few booths that was still standing, even though it had been caught in the fire. Burn marks dotted the roof, and smoke still rolled off the canvas.
Jack matched Graham’s strides, treading along a crowded walkway that was filled with elves and trolls assisting with the cleanup, with wizards and witches pulling carts out of the market, carrying intact items that needed to be removed and stored or possibly destroyed. They sidestepped the dead carcass of a dog. It vibrated and shimmered as it slowly returned to its original human form.
Jack jumped and brushed into a wizard. “Sorry.” The wizard grunted and continued along the walkway toward the Patagonia portal.
“You okay?”
“It’s just that…” Jack pointed to the dead body at his feet. He’d seen hundreds of them in his career, but none that sprung from the body of a dog. The enormity of the situation overwhelmed him.
“It’s hard to watch that.” Graham waved a hand over, asking a member of Zoology to join them.
“Hey, Graham. What’s up?” he asked and glanced at Jack. “I’m Dave Smith.” He held out a hand.
“Jack Ramsey,” he replied and shook.
“Oh. You’re the FBI agent. I’m friends with Annie and Cham. They told me about you.” Returning to Graham, he said, “How can I help?”
“He just turned.” Graham pointed to the body below him.
“Yeah. It’s been like that all day. We’re getting them as fast as we can. Sorry you had to see this. The destruction is… awful.” Dave called for backup, knelt beside the victim, and checked for identification in the pockets. He found a wallet and pulled it out, checking for any form of ID. “From Germany.” He waved a colleague over and began preparing the body for transport.
“Have you talked to Annie and Cham?” Jack asked as Dave and his coworker began placing the body in a black plastic bag.
Dave looked up at the nonmagical. “Yeah, they’re good. I talked to Annie’s sister. Cham took in a lot of smoke but he’s recovering well. Annie’s good. I’ll let them know you were here and asked.”
“Thanks. Send my best wishes.” Jack hung around for a minute longer, watching Dave return his attention to the victim. When Graham tugged his sleeve and pointed to the tent, they headed out, leaving Dave Smith to his work.
“Graham. Glad you’re here. We need specifics,” a man said from behind them.
“Hi, Allen,” Graham said with a wary smile. There’s not much to it. We have three hours to clean what we can, find whatever victims there are, remove artifacts. Victims and survivors go to the hospital; artifacts, potions, and books to Wizard Hall. The wizard guards have the ring and the spell. When they’re ready, we’ll vaporize the market and lower the protection spell.”
“Memory modification?” Sky asked.
“We’re waiting for permission from the Wizard Council, but yes, that would be the next step. We have to make everyone forget this… anomaly. Last thing: whoever gets tagged by the Wizard Guard for burning down the market, follow them and then head back to Patagonia,” Graham ordered.
“Will do,” Allen responded and pulled his team together.
After saying goodbye, Jack and Graham headed farther inside the once-bustling market. “Over there.” Graham pointed to a brick wall. The two men walked over to a nondescript door on the wall.
“Stand to the side and wear this.” Graham summoned a mask and waited for Jack to stand to the right of the door a few feet away.
The door, hot to the touch, was opened with a swift wave of his palm. As the lock popped, Graham stepped beside Jack and summoned the door open. The pressure of the smoke blew outwards.
“What’s down there?” Jack asked as he took a breath and coughed.
“This should be the dungeon.”
Of course there’s a dungeon.
When the smoke stopped rolling in large puffs, Graham summoned a flashlight and stepped in front of the open door. Still filled with smoke, the staircase was dark. “Okay. Follow close.”
They entered into the smoky staircase, gingerly heading down the rickety wooden stairs. The stairs wobbled, affected by the heat.
“What happens if this crashes in on us?” Jack worried; the stairs swayed as he took another step downwards.
“Grab hold of my arm.”
After descending the bowels of the earth, they entered a rock-lined room. Graham’s flashlight illuminated the shackles still attached to the walls, a dead carcass hanging from one, another body on the floor.
Graham rushed to the adult male body and knelt beside him, turning the face toward him, feeling for a pulse. “Gladden Worchester, the wizard that created this mess,” he said.
Graham searched Gladden’s neck for vampire track marks. Just because he hadn’t seen any didn’t mean the man hadn’t been turned. He summoned a bottle of holy water. Jack grimaced, remembering his own experience with vampires and the holy water. He knew what Graham would be doing. After Graham poured a few drops on the dead man, Jack held his breath and waited for the vampire to spring to life. But Gladden Worchester was dead. Just plain dead, not vampire dead.
“Milo told me about him.” Jack said. “Do you mind?” he asked as he searched the body’s arms and hands. Gladden’s shirt was burnt at the chest, so Jack pulled open the buttons and saw a large scorch mark across his chest. “Looks like John Doe’s,” Jack remarked.
“That’s odd,” Graham said as he pulled out his crystal, running it across the mark. After examining the readings, he said, “Not wizard magic. He was probably killed by the djinn. Let’s get him out of here.”
Graham unfurled a body bag and placed Gladden Worchester inside. Graham zipped him inside and texted a number, typing a short note.
“It didn’t work out so well for him then?” Jack said.
“Not so much.”
Chapter 34
Forced to rest until the last possible moment, Annie sat on her hospital cot, with the spell to turn the shapeshifters human lying on her lap. Mrs. Cuttlebrink and Emerson Donaldson sat near her in uncomfortable folding chairs, working on the spell translation. They had been at it for several hours. An exhausted Annie put her head against the head rest and closed her eyes.
“I can’t see anything, Annie dear. I think the spell is good to go,” the librarian advised.
Annie’s eyes fluttered open. “Emerson, do you see anything?”
Emerson was still reviewing the text, ascertaining whether or not there were any hidden consequences to the words as they were written. She read with glassy, glazed-over eyes. She looked up, her gaze matching Annie’s.
“Nope. Based on what the spell commands, there’s nothing in here that on the surface is bad. I think we’ll be good to go.”
“Great. Now all we have to do is contain all of the animals.”
Annie lay back and pulled the covers up to her chin. The air chilled her battered, tired body. She closed her eyes again to block out the makeshift hospital.
One hundred feet from where she convalesced, animals barked and scratched, corralled into smaller sections as they waited to be returned to their original human forms. The guards in Busse Woods had already sent hundreds through the Patagonia portal.
With the destruction of the market, it was more difficult to contain the magical exposure. And now the stress of performing this spell overwhelmed Annie.
The drapes surrounding Annie’s bed fluttered open, and the din outside the tent grew louder as the team filed into her small recovery space.
“Annie, how are you feeling?” Milo asked. He wasn’t his normal gruff self; too tired and stressed to keep up appearances.
>
“I’m good.”
But he isn’t.
He paced at the end of her bed. His eyes, circled with purple puffiness, darted across the confined space and spied the ring on the bedside table. “And the ring is okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
Milo summoned the thick metal ring and placed it on his finger. “All this for an ugly ring.” He handed her back the ring. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah. My expert spell makers are confident we’re ready,” Annie assured him.
“Where are we on the Fraternitatem?” Milo turned and addressed Lial.
“Good news. I figured out the Cave of Ages and its location. When you’re ready, Annie, we’re good to go. Did the archaeologist have anything else on them?” Lial asked Gibbs.
“Nothing. She’s a bit bat shit crazy. Not sure she would even know,” Gibbs replied.
“And the master? Have we found him?” Milo enquired of Spencer.
“Nothing yet. When the shapeshifters are safe, I’m going to speak with Bitherby and find out how the djinn was summoned in the first place. I can’t imagine a genie won’t respond to a summoning,” Spencer replied.
“Then let’s get this done,” Milo said.
Annie, stronger than she had thought she was, pushed herself up and slid into the wheelchair beside her bed. Her brain, a little foggy from the smoke, took a moment in the seat as all eyes waited for her to make a move.
“I’m good,” she said and sat back as she was wheeled to the animal corral across from the makeshift camp.
The smell of dung, wet fur, and the slimy scent of rough scales, bombarded Annie as she entered the tent. Even though there were humans underneath the fur and scales, they still in most cases acted and smelled very much the animal they currently were, and they were hard to keep in one spot, preferring to slither or slink across the paddock.
The team positioned themselves around the corral, a large circle enclosed with makeshift metal walls containing air holes. A large fan whirled above them, sucking out as much stale air as it could. The stench was still crushing.
Each wizard guard possessed identical crystals, including Annie’s, all which had been cut from the larger rock that rested in the center of the paddock.
Black Market (The Wizard Hall Chronicles Book 2) Page 32
