by Sean Stone
“I killed him,” Aldric said, nullifying my point.
“With my help.”
Aldric picked up his martini and finished it off slowly, contemplating everything whilst he did. I could tell that he was enjoying making me wait. When he finished he put his glass down gently. He then pulled out his pocket handkerchief, dabbed at his mouth and returned it to his pocket. Bloody ponce.
“You talk a good talk, Edward. But you do need to be able to back all that talk up,” he said.
“Believe me I can back up anything I say,” I assured him.
“I don’t want to hear any more distressing news coming from your direction.”
“Keep yourself and your vampires out of my direction and you won’t,” I said.
“Very well.”
I moved towards the door and the guy outside opened it for me. As my foot hit the concrete outside a thought occurred to me and I turned back. “Have you heard anything about the warlock’s leader? The guy who was working with Sebastian?” I asked.
He shook his head. “As you know, Sebastian was the only one of the Syndicate to ever deal with him. The warlocks have nothing to do with us anymore,” he replied.
“One of the warlocks who worked for him says it’s Nickolas Blackwood.”
At that Aldric’s eyebrows rose considerably. “I have heard rumours that he is still alive, though I have seen no evidence myself.”
“She said that he was after me. He was interested in me.”
“I met Nickolas once very briefly, about a century ago. A lot of people died. Luckily, I was on the right side of the war zone.”
“So, he is as deadly as they say?” I asked.
Aldric paused before replying, considering how much he wanted to scare me probably. “If Nickolas Blackwood is alive and he is indeed after you, I recommend only one course of action. Find yourself a hole and bury yourself in it. Because you’re already dead.”
Terrific.
Chapter Eight
I did not sleep well that night. Learning that the most dangerous man in existence is after you and there’s nothing you can do to fight him is rather counterproductive to sleeping. As if I didn’t have enough shit on my plate.
“Remember to look up the Ambrotos Dagger,” Gabe said when I arrived in the kitchen. He was standing at the counter already pouring me a cup of tea. I worried that he was turning into something of a wife. He was laying out clothes for me, making me tea. I appreciated the effort, but it was a little weird.
“Thanks,” I said, not that I needed reminding. “Pour yourself one,” I added. Gabe was always a little too uptight around me. He didn’t talk unless spoken to, never ate or drank. I wanted him to relax a little. When he asked me how my evening was yesterday I was surprised, that was a big step for him. Maybe he sensed that without Ashley I was lonely and he was trying to fill that void. I needed to make time for Matt and Emma. Spending a bit of time with my friends would make me feel less lonely.
I grabbed some toast and then headed through to the dining room to eat at the table. Gabe followed and placed our teas on the table too. He then stood and watched me eat. “Sit down for god’s sake,” I said. “Stop being so… well you know. Just chill a bit.”
“Uhm… okay,” he said, looking a little confused. He pulled out a chair carefully as though it might bite him and then eased himself into it.
“You are allowed to talk,” I said.
“The weather looks good today,” he said awkwardly.
I shot him a cold stare. “Say something worth saying or don’t bother,” I said. I can’t stand small talk. Unless toads were falling from the sky the weather was not a subject worth discussing.
“So how are you going to find out about this dagger?” he asked. That was more like it.
“Well, since Nickolas Blackwood is a bit of a legend I doubt I’ll find much in Ashley’s grimoires. That means going to the only person I know who has books on every supernatural topic,” I said, slurping my tea. I saw Gabe’s nose turn a little at the slurp.
“Who’s that?” he asked.
“My old buddy Clarke.”
Clarke is a guy who works at Salamander, an old spiritual shop. Sells incense, cauldrons and gems and stuff. Clarke doesn’t work in the shop, he has a room out the back which is full of supernatural books. I guess he’s kind of a librarian. I go to him when I need to know something and he finds the answers. I don’t really know much about the guy to be honest. He’s a bit of a mystery but I’ve never really wondered about him. He almost always comes through for me and that is all that matters.
We walked into town and went straight to the shop. The shaggy-haired hippy who ran the place nodded politely and gave me a stoned smile. “Hey, Eddie,” he said in a drawl.
“Hey,” I replied. I had no idea what his name was. Never asked. Never cared.
“Clarke’s out back,” he said and nodded at the tapestries and rugs hanging on the back wall. I pulled them aside and slid through the secret door to Clarke’s room. It was a small room lined from floor to ceiling with ancient, crusty looking books. In the centre was an antique desk with a giant index book on it. The pages of the book were brown with age and looked like they’d crumble if you touched them. As a rule only Clarke is allowed to touch the books.
“Good morning, Eddie,” Clarke said. He was up the ladder perusing one of the higher shelves and began descending when I walked in. He was a short man with light hair and boyish looks. Despite the fact that he looked younger than me he was almost certainly not. You can sometimes tell a person’s age by the way a person carries themself and Clarke definitely struck me as being far older than he looked. Like older than was humanly possible. I’d never shared my suspicions with anyone, though. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure,” he said extending his hand to Gabe. “I’m Clarke.”
“Gabe,” he replied, shaking his hand firmly.
“I was very sorry to hear about Ashley’s passing,” Clarke said, turning back to me. “She was a tremendous girl, really tremendous. How are you holding up?”
“I’m alright,” I replied, shrugging it off. “You know, everyday a different problem.”
“What problem brings you to me?” he said, eyebrows raised.
“What do you know about Nickolas Blackwood?” I said. His eyes widened with interest and his mouth curled.
“The deadliest warlock to walk the earth? I know a bit.” He turned and headed for the door at the back of the room. “Come. We’re going to need to be more comfortable this time. We might be talking a while.”
I’d never been through the other door and I’ll confess that I was a little excited to see what was on the other side. I was underwhelmed. It was just a room. Small and unimpressive. By the looks of it, the room could have been made for this one specific need. Three comfy looking armchairs were positioned in a triangle facing each other. In the middle of the chairs was a dark wooden coffee table that held a tea pot and three china cups. A bowl of sugar was positioned next to a jug of milk. There was also a platter of biscuits and cakes on the tables. There was nothing else in the room whatsoever. Not even a piece of art on the walls.
“Please take a seat,” Clarke said to us. Ever a man of manners, he declined to sit down until me and Gabe were both seated. Without asking, he poured three cups of tea, knowing exactly how we liked our beverages.
“No books in this room,” I said, looking around at the blank light brown walls.
“I don’t need a book on this occasion. Nickolas Blackwood has ever been a topic of interest to me. He is a supernatural oddity of the highest order. I have studied his life from beginning to…” he paused and took a sip of his tea.
“End?” Gabe offered.
“Well… That is up for debate. Even I have been unable to prove it either way,” replied Clarke. “He certainly disappeared a couple of years ago. We can all agree on that.”
“So, he might still be alive?” I asked. My heart was beating a little faster, but I wasn’t sur
e if it was from excitement or fear.
“Why don’t I start from the very beginning and then we will all be able to draw our own conclusions about whether or not the world is still graced with the presence of Nickolas Blackwood.”
“I’m all ears,” I said eagerly. I grabbed a handful of Jaffa Cakes from the plate on the table and began shovelling them into my mouth with all the grace of a garbage truck.
Clarke crossed one leg over the other and looked up wistfully. “It begins in 1389. Nickolas was born in London, or there about. It’s a rather dramatic beginning, he was the bastard son of King Richard the Second. His existence was kept secret from most so the king could avoid the shame. Only on the night that he had to flee did Nickolas learn the truth about his parentage.”
“Why did he have to flee?” I asked.
“Civil war. The king had been deposed and the new king knew all about Nickolas and there was very little chance he was going to let a possible heir of the former king live. Regardless of his illegitimacy. The nobles who knew the truth about Nickolas and who were still loyal to Richard conceived a plan. They sent Nickolas on a ship to France to try and get the support of the French king and return with an army to defeat King Henry.”
“I don’t remember any of this from school,” said Gabe. Clarke smiled pleasantly at him.
“You won’t because Nickolas never made it to France. A storm took his ship and wrecked it on an island far away from the original destination. This island is another thing you’ll not find in any history books. It is a place of magic. It was home to many different races but ruled by only one, the Ancients.”
“I’ve heard of those,” I said, trying to recall what I’d been taught by Rachel. “They’re myths. No proof they really existed.”
“What are they, or were they?” Gabe asked.
“God-like beings. Like Zeus and that,” I said, waving my hand dismissively.
Clarke frowned at me disapprovingly. “The Ancients are real. Though there are few left now. They are the oldest race, or one of them. It is hard to say if they came before the Jinn, after or if they came into existence together.”
“Jinn. As in genies?” Gabe said in wonder.
“Yes,” Clarke replied. He wrinkled his nose in disgust as if he had a bad memory of a Jinn. “Ancients and Jinn were here long before humans were. The stories of Zeus and that were derived from the Ancients mainly but some Jinn too. The early humans believed the Ancients and the Jinn were gods and demons and worshipped them as such.”
“So, you’re saying that Zeus, Hades and all that were real?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said with a small reminiscent smile. “Most of those who have survived today have taken on more modern names.
“So… Nickolas arrived on this island. It was ruled by a hybrid. The result of a Jinn and an ancient lying together.” Once again, he wrinkled his nose. “Her name was Kayla. She lived with the ancient Set. They found Nickolas and took him in. They taught him all about the supernatural and trained him in many areas. But Nickolas was still only a human living in a supernatural place. He was always looked down on by his neighbours, just as he had been at home in England. Because of this he grew to have an alarmingly large chip on his shoulder.” Clarke stopped to refill his cup with tea. He added sugar and stirred in the milk silently, the only sound in the room was the quiet clinking of the spoon on his cup. I think he enjoyed leaving us in suspense.
“Kayla refused to give Nickolas magic. She believed it would corrupt him. I believe she had already seen that there was a bitterness inside him and she thought that magic would make it worse. After time he fell in love with a witch on the island and they pledged themselves to one another. Seeing that he had developed into a fine adult, Kayla bestowed on Nickolas the greatest gift she could offer. Using the Ambrotos Dagger she made him immortal.”
I sat up straight in my chair. “The Ambrotos Dagger?” That was the weapon Clara had said was used to kill him.
“The Ambrotos Dagger has the power to make somebody immortal. When used correctly, as Kayla did, it will make the person completely unkillable.”
“Clara said she’d seen somebody kill Nickolas with the Dagger,” I said, realising that Clara must have been mistaken.
“Well, nothing is truly unkillable. The Ambrotos Dagger can give immortality, but it can also take it away. Nickolas’ one vulnerability was the Dagger and to make him feel safe Kayla gifted it to him. Here is where the story takes a turn. Set was a devious man. He relished in creating chaos. He tricked Nickolas into murdering his wife. In so doing, Nick unwittingly performed the warlock ritual and consumed her power. Set had engineered it to happen exactly that way. He had given Nickolas the one thing Kayla had always sought to deny him and in doing so set him on a darker path. With his lover dead, Nickolas wanted only to bring her back and Set said it was possible but only by gathering more power than imaginable. For six-hundred years Nickolas travelled, gathering magic from every creature he came across.”
“Wait… he took power from things other than sorcerers?” I said in disbelief. I’d never heard of anyone doing that before. I didn’t even know it was possible.
“Yes,” Clarke nodded, his expression dour. “He became quite the abomination. He needed more power than anybody had ever had in order to do what nobody had ever done - raise the dead. He hunted down beings long considered extinct, including Ancients and Jinn. Despite the atrocity of what he did I must admit I am impressed at his dedication and his resourcefulness. Anybody else would not have survived such a quest.”
“Did he do it? Did he raise the dead?” I was literally on the edge of my seat. If he’d done it, then maybe I could too. I could bring Ashley back.
“He did,” Clarke said softly. “But it was short lived. His lover was killed again at the hands of the Jinn, Apophis - as was Nickolas. Supposedly. Apophis stabbed him in the heart with the Ambrotos Dagger and Nickolas turned to ash.” Clarke raised his hands up to the air as if to say that was that.
“So, he is dead?” I asked.
Clarke gave me a cheeky smile. “Well… the thing is he had been stabbed with the Dagger before and it did not kill him then. He had consumed so much power that even the Dagger could not end him. It would keep him dead only for as long as the dagger remained in his heart. But Apophis was so powerful that it is possible he could have actually killed him. It is here that you must decide for yourself whether or not Nickolas is truly dead.”
I stared into my empty cup pondering all that Clarke had told me. It was a fascinating tale, but it did nothing to answer my questions. I needed to know one way or the other. “What do you think? Do you think he’s dead?”
Clarke considered the question, his finger tapping his cup. “No. I believe that Apophis did kill him but not truly. I believe it just took Nickolas longer to recover because of how powerful Apophis was.”
“So, if he is alive and coming for me, how do I stop him?” I asked, a hint of desperation in my voice.
“Stabbing him with the Dagger would keep him dead as long as you didn’t remove the Dagger,” Clarke said. I didn’t have much faith in that plan.
“Is there no way I could kill him properly?”
“You would need to remove the power from him. Then the Dagger would work like normal and kill him permanently.” Clarke saw the look on my face and knew what I was thinking. He shook his head sadly. “You are not strong enough to take his power, Eddie. Even if somehow you were to overpower him and remove his magic you would never be able to hold it. Your mortal form would not survive. The magic would literally burst out of you. You would need immortality to survive the task, and not just any immortality. You’d need full immortality like Nickolas has.”
“I could put the magic in something,” I suggested.
“Nothing could hold it. You would need to find a true immortal willing to sully themself with the tainted magic. I cannot think of anybody who would endure such a thing,” he said, looking at me with pity.
�
�So, what do I do? What can I do?” I said, throwing my arms up in defeat.
Clarke smiled softly at me. “Only you can figure that out. Nobody can tell you what to do, Eddie. You have freewill. You must make the choice. The most important power you have is choice. Choose wisely because no matter what you choose you will set yourself on a path that will change not just your life but the lives of many others,” he said with an incredible air of mystery.
“What do you mean?” I asked. It was almost like he was delivering a prophecy.
“Nothing really. I’m just trying to emphasise the importance of making choices. You have to decide what is important to you.”
“So how do I get hold of the Ambrotos Dagger?” The only choice I could see was the choice to try and take Nickolas down, or let him take me down.
“Simple,” said Clarke. “Nickolas always has the Dagger on him. Find Nickolas and you’ll find the Dagger.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Simple.”
Chapter Nine
“He was… interesting,” Gabe said, as we walked out of Salamander. “What’s his story?”
“No idea,” I said with a shake of my head. “I learned a long time ago not to bother asking Clarke about himself. He’s a master of evasion.”
I was walking through town though I had no idea where I was going. I was only half paying attention to what was going on around me. My mind was revolving around the immortal warlock who was after me and how I was going to relieve him of his magical dagger.
“How did you even meet him?” Gabe asked, breaking my concentration.
“What’s that?” I said a little grouchily. I don’t like being spoken to when I’m thinking.
“Nothing. Sorry, I’m talking too much.” Gabe’s cheeks blushed a little and turned his gaze forwards.
I sighed and shook my head. “Don’t be stupid, Gabe. It’s about time you came out of your shell and starting speaking up. I met Clarke a couple of years ago. I was in Salamander looking at the books and then Clarke was just standing next to me. He said he might have what I was looking for out the back. Since then he’s been my go to guy.”
