James Potter and the Morrigan Web

by G. Norman Lippert

  A heavy thump struck the ground behind James, accompanied by a gust of stinking breath. He knew the first Wendigo was right behind him, sensed its long arms lunging toward him.

  He ducked to the left and leapt through a broken shop window. Mannequins toppled before him, skating away on pebbles of broken glass. He tumbled over them, scrambled up and threw himself into the darkened store. Behind him, the Wendigo roared, smashing through the remains of the window and dashing aside the mannequins effortlessly. James glanced back, saw its milky eyes glowing faintly in the dimness. It saw him and pounced.

  Down James crouched, ducking under a rack of clothing. The Wendigo crashed into it, knocking it sideways, but James scrambled out the other side and hurled himself through a rear door. Darkness met him, crowded with boxes and more mannequins. Shelves stood in rows, cluttered with merchandise. The only light came from a tiny window in the back, set into a grey metal door. James made toward it, dodging frantically around the shelves.

  Behind him, the storeroom door burst from its hinges. The Wendigo hefted it in its spindly arms and threw it at James like a discus. The door whooshed over his shoulder and crashed against a shelving unit, sending boxes flying in all directions.

  Gasping with terror, James reached the rear door. It was equipped with a push-bar, which James slammed downward with both hands. Thankfully, the door heaved open before him, dumping him out into a narrow alley, choked with trash bins and wooden pallets.

  James ran, threading through the trash bins. Distantly, he heard screams, crashes, the fizzing whoosh of magic.

  The Wendigo exploded through the rear door, blasting it off its hinges and sending it crashing against the brick wall opposite. The Wendigo saw James and dropped to all fours. With a scrape of gravel, it launched itself after him, galloping between the trash bins with horrible speed. It was nearly upon him. With a deep, grating snarl, it leapt.

  James threw himself to the broken pavement and covered his head.

  A shadow flicked over him, accompanied by a strange metallic noise: FPANG! A split second later, a heavy, ringing crash filled the air.

  James looked up in time to see the Wendigo hurled, upside down, against a chain-link fence that divided the alley. The fence bowed under its weight, and then recoiled, flinging the horrible creature against a stack of pallets.

  "Stay! Where! You! Are!" a deep voice commanded sternly.

  James craned to look back over his shoulder. A man in a heavy green tunic, studded with black leather armour, hovered over the alley on a nasty-looking black broom. His arm was fully extended as he sighted down his wand, pointing it at the Wendigo.

  The Wendigo scrambled to its feet, apparently unfazed by its encounter with the fence. It saw the man on the broom and snarled, wrinkling its bloody lips from its black gums. Then, with a lithe speed that was terrible to watch, it lunged for the nearest trash bin. James thought it meant to hide. Instead, the thing heaved the enormous bin into the air, hurling it like a projectile.

  The man on the broom feinted left instantly, just enough to allow the trash bin to whistle past, crashing against the wall behind him. He fired a green spell, briefly illuminating the dim alley and producing another strange metallic FPANG! The spell struck the Wendigo squarely in the chest, knocking it backwards with incredible force. The Wendigo hit the brick wall and smashed completely through it, creating a jagged hole into darkness.

  "Come!" the man on the broom commanded, lowering a large gloved hand to James. "They can't be killed, only repulsed! Hurry, before it revives itself!"

  James glanced from the broken brick wall to the man on the broom. This was obviously one of the Harriers that Scorpius had mentioned. Without a second thought, he reached up, grasped the man's forearm, and felt himself pulled bodily off the ground and onto the broom.

  "Hold on!" the Harrier barked hoarsely, turning swiftly in the narrow confines of the alley.

  Behind them, the Wendigo roared. There was a crash of bricks.

  The green-clad Harrier hunched over his broom and it rocketed forward, more swiftly and powerfully than anything James had ever experienced. He scrambled for a hand-hold, grasped two fists full of the man's short cape, and held on as tightly as he could. The force of acceleration was breath-taking. An instant later, the broom sped out into sunlight, leaving the alley behind.

  "My friends!" James called over the rush of the wind. "There's another of those things after them!"

  The Harrier didn't reply, but he banked hard to the right, soaring out over the avenue where the fight had begun. James saw the broken awning and the crooked taxi. The broom banked again as its pilot surveyed the scene, seeming to ascertain which direction the fight had gone from a thousand subtle clues. He tilted the broom upwards and accelerated again.

  As they hurtled around a corner, James spied a flash of electric blue ahead. The Harrier ticked his broom straight toward it and raised his wand again.

  "It's them!" James called as they closed in.

  Sure enough, Scorpius, Rose and Lissa were limping along on the blue broom, barely twenty feet above the street. Beneath them, the second Wendigo leapt onto a bus, coiled, and sprung at them, stretching out its incredibly long arms. It swiped, meaning to swat them straight out of the air, but another blue flash lit the street, emanating from an orb of magic that flickered around the broom, repelling the Wendigo's grasp. It fell back to the street in a furious crouch and roared.

  "That's one tough little imp," the Harrier exclaimed, gesturing with his wand as they circled the others. James squinted through the roaring wind and saw the lithe little security gargoyle crouched alertly on the tip of the sinking broom. Its blue eyes glowed like pinpricks of lightning, casting the protective blue bubble. "It can't hold out much longer," the Harrier added, swooping to cut the Wendigo off from them. "We'll have to fend it off. Fortunately there's just the one. Ah, damn."

  James saw it coming at the same time: the Wendigo's twin leapt into view at the end of the block. It saw the crippled broom and snarled viciously. In an instant, it began to leap from car-top to car-top, crimping the metal bonnets and roofs with its thudding footprints.

  "Wand out!" the Harrier ordered, levelling his own wand at the nearer of their pursuers. "Use a Convulsis spell if you know it! Anything with some force behind it! You take the further one!"

  "Now?" James cried, fumbling his wand out and aiming it.

  "NOW!"

  Both of them fired at once. The nearer Wendigo thrashed backwards as a blue bolt struck it. James' Convulsis spell missed its mark, however, exploding a newspaper box behind the advancing monster. The Wendigo zigged back and forth, shattering windscreens and swinging from utility poles.

  "Again!" the Harrier commanded.

  More bolts of magic lit the street, with Scorpius joining in from behind, but it was little use. Even the Harrier's direct hits only repulsed the creatures for a moment. The twin monstrosities were nearly upon them, snarling more viciously than ever.

  A series of pops suddenly echoed along the canyon of skyscrapers. Figures appeared in mid-swoop, each dressed in green tunics and matte black armour, each straddling their own long, sleek broomsticks. They arced around in tightening loops and finally halted in formation, forming a ring around the original Harrier and his charges. Nine Harriers in all, nine wands pointed down at the Wendigoes, which had suddenly dropped to alert, furious crouches.

  "On my mark!" one of the newcomers barked. James glanced up and was overjoyed to see Viktor Krum, his face set with grim determination. "FIRE!"

  All nine Harriers unleashed their spells on the Wendigoes simultaneously. Green bolts lit the street, converging on the creatures in an instant. That strange, metallic FPANG! sounded again, this time multiplied nearly ten-fold. There was an explosion of green light and a shockwave of thick, black smoke. When the echoes died away, the Wendigoes were gone.

  The Harrier sharing James' broom drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, purposely calming himself. He looked aside, assur
ing that everyone was all right, and then glanced up at Krum.

  "About… bloody… time!" he shouted, his voice echoing along the empty street.

  "What's the matter, Piotre?" one of the late arrivals called, "Can't handle a couple of escaped housepets on your own?"

  "James!" Krum shouted, piloting his broom into position next to him, his face deadly stern. "What are you doing here?"

  James stammered. "We-- there were some rings… experimental magic…"

  Krum shook his head vigorously. "On second thought, I don't care. Do you have a means to get back home?"

  James nodded, then glanced aside as Rose and Scorpius lowered their overloaded broom, the Muggle woman crammed between them. "Er, sorta . And we're very keen to, actually. But Rose is missing her ring. It was in her cardigan when it, er, blew off the roof of the Crystal Mountain."

  James turned back to Krum, expecting a stern or confused frown. Instead, Krum had produced a tiny notebook from a chest pocket on his leather armour. He was writing on it with an equally tiny quill, the implements looking slightly silly in his large, gloved hands. He nodded curtly at his own notes.

  "Cardigan," he stated. "Colour?"

  "Um," Rose spoke up sheepishly, "It's sort of a pale salmon colour? With perhaps a little mauve?"

  Krum looked at her without writing anything, his brow lowered.

  "Pink," James interjected. "It's pink. Do you think you can help us?"

  "The cardigan contains a ring," Krum confirmed, frowning again at his notes. "Anything else?"

  "My wand," Rose called. "And, er, some Droobles gum. And possibly a Nosebleed nougat or two--"

  "That will do," Krum announced crisply, pocketing his notebook and tiny quill. He raised his voice and called out, "Search pattern Sigma! Object is a pink cardigan sweater, lost from the roof of the Crystal Mountain. Consider prevailing winds and be aware of high perches and overhangs. Upon retrieval, assure contents: one ring, one wand, assorted effects. Teams one through three, go now and report back in a quarter hour. Team four, return to watch perimeter. This may have been a distraction." The last he added in a worried growl, turning back to James.

  "It was very foolish of you to come here, James," he said gravely, and it pained James to hear the disappointment in the older man's voice.

  "We weren't supposed to come here, exactly," James insisted weakly. "We started out in the top floors of the Crystal Mountain. It was just a quick out-and-back, using these magical rings Zane and his mates have been working on."

  Krum's eyes sharpened. "Zane Walker? He is here as well?"

  James nodded nervously. "Yeah. Somewhere. He and a girl named Nastasia," a wave of worry suddenly washed over him as he glanced around the deserted street. "And Ralph, too! Where are they? That Collector bloke must have them!"

  Even as James spoke, a clatter echoed from the nearby corner and a trio of figures clambered into view. James glanced toward the sound and was astounded to see Zane, Nastasia and Ralph climbing around the wreck of a bus.

  Piotre, the Harrier with whom James still shared a broom, said, "Are these your friends?"

  "That's them," James nodded, squirming to climb off the broom. The Harrier lowered his broom, allowing James to jump down.

  "James!" Zane called, "What happened to the Wendigoes? And who are your new pals? On second thought," he frowned a little, "I guess both those questions sorta answer each other. Oh! Hi, Viktor!"

  "I should have known you were part of this, Walker," Viktor sighed.

  James met his friends near the wrecked bus. "What…?" he stammered, looking them up and down. They appeared to barely have broken a sweat. "How did you…?"

  "How did we avoid becoming lunch for a pair of anorexic zombie cannibals?" Zane clarified, raising his eyebrows. "Good question. It's a tale of true grit and resourcefulness if there ever was one. See, as soon as we saw Scorpius and Rose fly off with the Muggle woman…"

  "I just put on my green ring," Nastasia piped up, lifting a hand and wriggling her fingers. "Baddaboom. Built-in escape route."

  "Ralph and I followed along," Zane shrugged. "It seemed like the obvious thing to do. Then, we zapped right back again. Only when we came back, the rings landed us back on top of the Crystal Mountain. It took us a few minutes to get back down from there. Fortunately, I was genius enough to grab these from the X-Comm lab." He held up a pair of old but serviceable brooms.

  Rose and Scorpius joined them, bringing Lissa with them.

  James frowned at Zane. "You mean, you three just… left?"

  "We thought you would do the same," Ralph said. "There was no fighting those Wendigo things. At least, not without… er, professional help." He eyed Viktor and Piotre, who hung in mid-air nearby, talking in serious voices on their sleek brooms.

  "But I--" James began, and then stopped. He had honestly forgotten about the ring in his pocket, the one that would have whisked him immediately to safety if he had merely put it on. In retrospect, it seemed very silly-- and potentially deadly-- for him to have forgotten about it. But then he remembered that Rose hadn't had her ring at all, and neither had the Muggle woman, Lissa. He looked at Zane and Ralph, then Nastasia.

  "You," he said, realization dawning on him. "You were just waiting for a chance to zap back. You didn't care about anyone else. If Zane and Ralph hadn't seen you do it, they never would have thought to do it themselves. They never would have left Rose here."

  "Now hold on, James," Zane interjected. "We came back immediately, and with help. We were going to use the brooms to get everyone up off the street, where those monsters couldn't reach us."

  "She wasn't thinking about anyone but herself," James insisted, still glaring at Nastasia. "Neither of you would have left if you hadn't seen her do it first, just to save her own skin. I'm surprised you even got her to come back with you!"

  Nastasia met his glare with a look of wounded surprise. Then, her face hardened. She turned away, but not before James saw tears shimmering in her eyes.

  Suddenly, Zane did the last thing James expected. He shoved James, hard, on the shoulder. "What's the matter with you?" he demanded. "What were we supposed to do? You ran off! Scorpius and Rose made it into the air with Lissa! One of those things nearly ripped Nastasia's head off with one swipe! It was instinct to get to safety any way we could! If it wasn't for her quick thinking, the three of us would probably be dead right now!"

  James stared at his friend in shock. He glanced at Ralph for support and saw a deeply wounded look on the big boy's face.

  "I'm sorry James," Ralph said quietly. "You might be right. Perhaps we shouldn't have left. But we came back as soon as we could."

  James suddenly felt like a complete cad. He shook his head. "No, Ralph. I-- I shouldn't have said…"

  "Yeah, yeah," Zane said with uncharacteristic bitterness. "We're all sorry about everything. Can we just find Rose's cardigan and get the hell out of here already?"

  He stepped past James, heading toward Viktor and Piotre.

  "Really, Ralph," James said quietly. "I am sorry. You both did the smart thing. I was stupid to forget I had a way out in my pocket, and I almost got killed for it."

  "Sure," Ralph said, smiling wanly. "But you're right. At least you didn't leave Rose here. You and Scorpius, you two are the heroes."

  "Hah," James scoffed. "I barely got a shot off. I ran like a garden gnome and completely lost track of Rose and the others. If it hadn't been for Viktor and his harriers…" He shuddered, realizing how truly perilous his situation had been.

  "It's all right," Rose said quietly, placing a hand on James' and Ralph's shoulders. "We all did the best we could. And everything turned out all right. Didn't it?"

  Lissa suddenly gave a harsh, bitter laugh. "Everything's all right," she repeated, shaking her head. "None of you have any idea. No clue at all."

  "What do you mean?" Ralph asked, turning to the Muggle woman. "Who was that man, anyway? Who's the Collector?"

  Lissa met Ralph's eyes and the bitter smile f
ell from her face. She drew a deep, shuddering breath. "He's… the devil." She shrugged helplessly. "He found us. The ones that were left when the city emptied out. Me and Park and a bunch of the other street people, we were just beginning to band together, to understand what had happened. And he found us. He was powerful… magical… and he promised us things.

  But he… he lied."

  Scorpius tilted his head curiously. "So there are others?"

  Lissa giggled a little again. "There were others. There are hardly any left now. Now that he's done… collecting."

  "What does that mean, Lissa," Rose asked worriedly, her face going pale.

  Lissa shrugged helplessly. "We didn't want to do it, but he promised to take us with him when the new world came. He took care of us, but for a price. Every day he sent us out into the city, looking for things. He was making… something." She shook her head and grimaced. "Something awful. He needed lots of very specific ingredients for it. But when he finally had everything he needed… he didn't need us anymore. He started collecting people instead. First Park, then, one by one, most of the others. Even the ones who were like him. The magical ones."

  Rose looked perplexed. "He killed people? Even other wizards?"

  Lissa shook her head again, slowly and emphatically. "It wasn't just killing. It was… like a game to him. It gave him… pleasure. And it made him more powerful. He collected them. When he was done, they weren't so much dead as they were just… sort of… sucked dry. Empty human husks, with everything stripped out of them. He made us bury them in the park, which was the worst part of all. Some of them…" She shuddered violently and met James' eyes, almost pleadingly. "Some of them were still breathing. They were dead… dead in every way that mattered. But they breathed…"

  "He's a rogue wizard," Ralph said suddenly, glancing from Scorpius to James. "Just taking advantage of the situation here, with all the authorities gone. Right? Just some really deranged, vicious wizard with delusions of grandeur?"

  Scorpius scowled thoughtfully. "I've been around wizards with delusions of grandeur my whole life. I come from a long line of them, to be honest. Not many of them could conjure mythical beasts out of thin air. That was some serious dark magic."