Science and Sorcery

by Christopher Nuttall

  Her cell phone buzzed and she glanced down at the message. “They just tested the healer under scientific conditions,” she said, in some disbelief. She would have liked to do it herself, but she’d wanted to keep an eye on the investigation in New York. “She proved able to reproduce her success in the lab.”

  Matt broke into a smile. “That’s good news,” he said. “Whatever is going on, at least it doesn't just bring terrors...”

  Caitlyn nodded. “They want me to go to Washington,” she said. “You’re going to come with me.”

  She couldn't have put her reasoning into words. Yes, she did find Matt attractive, but it was something else, something more instinctive. Her instincts kept insisting that she needed him with her, even though there seemed no logical reason for it. But then, it had been a long time since she’d dated, or even gone out with someone for the night.

  “Very well,” Matt said. He hesitated. “Do I have to keep Internal Affairs informed?”

  “It might be a good idea, even if they cleared you,” Caitlyn said. At least she'd already done the paperwork for having Matt as part of the task force. Now that there was more proof that something very weird was going on, it should be easy to get more manpower assigned to her. “And while you’re telling them, I’ll see what else has been going on all over the country.”

  She opened her laptop, logged into the FBI’s database and started reserving plane tickets for the flight to Washington. It wasn't that long a drive, but she hated long car journeys and did whatever she could to avoid them. Besides, she had a feeling that they were going to be needed in Washington quickly. She would have to report in to her superiors as well as requesting additional manpower. Five or six people couldn't investigate all of the suspected incidents of weirdness, as Matt had dubbed them, in anything like an effective manner.

  There were several dozen reports that might have signified werewolves, a vague report that seemed to be a vampire and several incidents where ghosts had been sighted. She had no idea how seriously to take any of them, which meant they all had to be investigated. Chances were that some of them were just people trying to cash in on the sudden reports of supernatural events, but still...they’d have to check them all. If they were dealing with real vampires to add to the werewolves, there would be national panic. Apart from the idiots who thought that bloody-sucking monsters were actually sexy...

  Shaking her head, she looked down at the photographs from the crime scene – if it truly was a crime scene, rather than a horrific accident. Poor kids, burnt to death before they even knew what had struck them. What, if anything, could deserve such a punishment?

  Chapter Six

  New York, USA

  Day 5/6

  He was dreaming.

  Calvin knew he was dreaming, even though there was an uncanny sense of reality running through his mind. And yet it wasn't real. In his dream, he strode over the world wearing a sorcerer’s robe and carrying a staff that was, somehow, the reflection of his power. The people he passed bowed down to him in fear and awe, knowing that a single word from the mighty sorcerer could end their lives. Calvin looked upon the scene of total submission to his power and found it good.

  Ahead of him, he saw Moe and his cronies, their bodies warped and twisted into vile shambling parodies of humanity. He’d done that to them, he knew, broken his enemies before him as easily as a man might step on a bug. They dropped to the ground and prostrated themselves in front of him, begging for his mercy and forgiveness. Calvin looked down at them for a long moment and then shook his head. They could have treated him well – or even ignored him – when they were at school, but instead they had treated him like dirt, before he’d come into his powers. Moe had thought it was funny to steal his pants and force him to run to the changing room without them. Who was laughing now?

  He strode onwards, leaving the former bullies in the dust, heading towards his castle. It was a towering structure right out of a fairy tale. From a fertile landscape, the hill rose like a breaking wave, leaning so far that the castle at its crest had empty space below it. The mere existence of the castle, held up by magic, was a demonstration of Calvin’s power to the unwashed masses who’d laughed at him. Who was laughing now?

  The thought drove him onwards as the great doors opened, allowing him to walk into his castle. Serving maids, all naked by his command, ran to greet him, throwing themselves at his feet. They had once tormented him too, until he had come into his power and broken them to his will. The girls that had once kissed football jocks while sneering at nerds were his now, allowing him to do what he pleased with them. And it pleased him to use them in any way he saw fit. The spells he’d placed on them kept them obedient, while allowing him to drink in their suffering. They deserved everything he'd done to them. Where had their mercy been when he'd needed it?

  He dismissed the girls with a wave of his hand and walked into the tower itself. Every pleasure he could ever want was there, waiting for him. There were girls and computers and books and everything else, sent to him by those who feared his might. Calvin looked around, smiling at the vision, and then felt the dream shifting around him. The next moment, he was standing in the middle of a darkness so profound that he recoiled from it. Who knew what was lurking in the shadows?

  “Greetings,” a voice said.

  Calvin turned. There was a single light behind him, illuminating a woman with long dark hair and a vaguely Japanese face, although it was so pale as to be almost albino. Her eyes seemed lost in the shadow, no matter how much he stared at where they should be. She looked odd, even in the dream world, and yet he was not afraid. It was only a dream.

  “You may call me Harrow,” the woman said, as she stepped closer. There was something odd about her, something that Calvin couldn't quite grasp. She looked youthful – indeed, he wouldn't have thought that she was much older than himself – and yet she seemed far older than she appeared. “I am to be your tutor.”

  Calvin stared. Up close, Harrow seemed to be cloaked in shadow, as if her dress was as dark as the darkness surrounding them. Her voice was soft, almost melodious, without being seductive. It was hard, almost impossible, to think of her as sexual. Her face was attractive and yet there was something wrong with it. Perhaps it was the shadow where her eyes should be, or perhaps it was something else.

  “You...” He found himself stuttering and started again. “You are to be my tutor?”

  “You have come into your magic,” Harrow said, patiently. Calvin remembered the first part of the dream and smiled. “I trust you enjoyed your vision of what the future holds?”

  Calvin considered. He’d never really wanted to hurt anyone, even Moe and his cronies, but on the other hand the world just wasn’t fair. Moe had taught him, time and time again, that the only thing that truly mattered was power, and the will to use it. And besides, no girl would show any interest in him until he demonstrated his power. The temptation – and he was smart enough to realise that it was temptation – was almost impossible to resist.

  “Yes,” he admitted. His enemies broken, girls kneeling at his feet, the entire world in awe of his power...yes, it had been enjoyable. No one would laugh at him, even behind his back, if he commanded such vast power. “I enjoyed it.”

  “That can be yours,” Harrow said. She took another step forward, until she was almost close enough to kiss. “You have the power to make the kings of the world kneel before you and beg for your favour, to shape the course of history at will. Or you could make the dead speak, or create monsters from the shadows, or break the cattle to your will. You have the talent, but you need the training. I can train you.”

  She didn't breathe, Calvin realised suddenly. Her lips were bare centimetres from his ear and yet he couldn't feel her breath. But it was a dream. Who expected it to work like real life?

  “Yes,” he said. Some basic caution forced him to ask a simple question. “What do you want in return?”

  Harrow laughed, a simple tinkling sound that echoed in the a
ir. “You do have potential,” she said, seriously. “Everything comes with a price.”

  She stepped backwards and looked down at him. “I will ask you for one favour in exchange,” she added. “I and my comrades have been imprisoned unjustly, by a man who thought himself the lord of all. We need your help to break free. I will train you until you can help us.”

  Calvin looked back at her. “Why were you imprisoned?”

  Harrow smiled, rather sadly. “Once, there was a time when those who could master their minds possessed vast powers,” she said. “No muscled thug could ever hope to best a sorcerer, for sorcerers had the ability and intelligence to master magic and bend the universe itself to their will. The world allowed those with the right abilities to rise high, while keeping those who never worked to develop themselves down. Those who were smart could become the masters of the world.”

  Calvin found himself believing her. He was smarter than Moe, perhaps one of the smartest boys in the entire school. But intelligence hadn't helped him when Moe had been beating him up, or shoving his head down the toilet, or when he’d watched the girls fawning over the football jocks. How could he help it when his talents were intellectual, rather than physical?

  And it wasn't right. It had never been right. And if Harrow was telling the truth, it was a subversion of the natural order. He wanted to believe her.

  “There were thirteen of us who dared to bring forward a world where all of us would share in its power,” Harrow continued. “We were the most powerful magicians in existence; if it could be done, we could do it. But there were those who opposed us, including one magician who was sly and sneaky. He created a trap and imprisoned us before we could realise what had gone wrong. His treachery was so great that the remaining mana drained away and broke civilisation, until the swordsmen put it back together with themselves in charge. The way they treated you is the way they treat everyone with smarts, because they know, deep in their hearts, that you are superior.

  “And we waited for countless centuries until the mana started to return and the bonds on our prison weakened.”

  She smiled, openly. “And now there is a new generation of magicians,” she concluded. “I will teach you and you will free us from our prison. We will walk this world once again.”

  Calvin hesitated. The story seemed believable; hell, he wanted to believe it. He’d always known that he was something special, although he’d never dreamed of the truth. And he’d incinerated Moe and his friends...it was his first taste of real power and he wanted more. He could avenge all the taunts, punish the tormentors...Peter Parker would have said that great power brought great responsibility, but Peter Parker had never been seriously bullied. Why should he serve the world when the world had knocked him down time and time again?

  It was intelligence that separated mankind from the animals. Intelligence had taught humanity how to master fire, to work metal and to start the long process that had eventually led to computers and space rockets. But throughout all of recorded history, it had been the strong men who had taken command, bending the intellectuals to their will. Men in jackboots, unable to comprehend what the intellectuals could do, had ruled – and the world was not a better place. It was the same everywhere; men with strength, men with connections, ruled...and everyone else had no choice, but to suck it up. He felt the power dancing through his head and knew that things could be different. It might be hard to learn to master his power, but he would learn. And then there would be revenge.

  “I will free you,” he promised, and meant it. Harrow’s friends could hardly be worse than the men who ruled the world. “Can we start learning now?”

  Harrow smiled. “Of course,” she said. “The first step is learning how to channel mana through your mind.”

  She took his hands – hers felt cold to the touch, almost skeletal – and smiled again. “Mana is spreading through your world, touching those of you who carry traits that respond to mana,” she continued. “As a sorcerer, you absorb and store mana within your very body, just waiting for use. If you concentrate, you will become aware of its presence.”

  Calvin nodded, closing his eyes. He’d sensed something ever since he’d first used magic, but it was only now that he realised what it actually was. The mana seemed to shimmer through his body, as if it was trapped by his skin. Slowly, be became aware that there was more mana outside his body, drifting through the air. It seemed the easiest thing in the world to reach out and pull it into his body.

  “Learning to focus your mind is very important,” Harrow informed him, as he opened his eyes. “The Magicians Council used to use specific words to utilise their magic, once they had taught focus and discipline to their apprentices. However, you must master focusing your power first.”

  She looked at him and then produced a small wooden ball from her robes. “I want you to focus your mind and tap your mana, directing this ball to rise up into the air,” she added. “Focus your mind, imagine what you want to happen, and then tap your mana. Concentrate...”

  Calvin tried. It was easy to imagine the ball flying up into the air, but tapping his mana seemed impossible. He was aware of the mana seething inside his body, yet he couldn't quite see how to use it properly. And yet he’d been able to incinerate Moe... Slowly, it dawned on him that the mana was being held in check by his own mind. The trick was to weaken the containment field – for want of a better term – and let the mana flow out...

  The ball shot into the air and vanished into the darkness. “Too much power,” Harrow said, dryly. She produced another ball and held it up in front of him. “Again.”

  It felt like hours before Calvin had the trick mastered. Harrow was proving to be a good teacher, but there were things that he just had to learn to develop for himself. She’d told him that the more he mastered, the easier the next step would be, yet it was still complicated and more than a little counter-intuitive. The trick seemed to be to relax and concentrate, rather than being tense and concentrating. Pushing too much determination into the magic either did nothing or produced wildly spectacular results.

  “Good,” Harrow said. She studied him for a long moment. “I think it’s time to teach you a few more tricks.”

  Calvin would have groaned, if he had had the energy. He knew that their lessons were taking place in dreams, rather than face-to-face, but he still felt tired. Harrow seemed relentless, however, and some of the spells she was outlining for him promised to be very useful. The ability to make himself invisible, the ability to influence a person’s actions, the ability to spy on someone...oh, he could imagine all sorts of uses for that spell. Whatever qualms he might have had about it had faded away as he realised just how much Harrow’s enemies had stolen from the world. He could have been one of its masters if they hadn’t drained away the mana, destroying their own civilisation out of spite.

  “We will be meeting every night until you are ready to free us,” Harrow said, afterwards. It felt as if they’d been training for years, yet he had the feeling that he’d barely scratched the surface of what was possible. The mana levels, Harrow had said, weren’t high enough to support some of the greater acts magicians had carried out in the forgotten past, but it was only a matter of time. Calvin was already planning his personal tower. “And now, I suggest that you have some fun with your new spells. Just remember to be careful how you use them.”

  She snapped her fingers and the dream vanished. Calvin jerked upright in bed, suddenly very aware that he was tired. A quick glance at his watch revealed that it was 4am, and yet he was utterly exhausted, mentally if not physically. His head was spinning and, now he was fully awake, he could sense the mana flowing through the air. In a way, the ebb and flow of mana was almost beautiful.

  It had happened. He had no doubt of it, not after remembering what had happened to Moe. Mana was real, magic was real and Harrow, his tutor, was real. Oddly, he felt a spurt of affection and respect for Harrow that he had never felt for any other teacher, even the one who had taught him how
to read. Perhaps it was receiving her full attention, or perhaps it was because she actually made sense. Few of his other teachers had been so capable.

  He was tired, but somehow he managed to pull himself out of bed and stagger into the bathroom, driven by an urge to test out at least one of the new spells. Closing and locking the door, he turned on the light and poured water into the sink. Harrow had warned him that the spell required concentration and a small amount of mana, but unlike some of the other spells it wasn't prone to damaging anything if it failed. Carefully, he dipped one finger in the water and closed his eyes, concentrating on a single thought. When he opened his eyes, he found himself looking down into Marie’s bedroom. A shiver ran down his spine as he realised that he’d succeeded, completely. He was living one of his dreams.

  Marie had been one of the girls he'd known from elementary school, but she’d barely even known he'd existed. She had a reputation for having done everything a girl could do at high school, rumours that Calvin had been quite prepared to believe. Like far too many girls, she had fawned over the football jocks and acted as though they were gods on Earth. He peered into the bowl and caught his breath as he saw her tossing and turning in her bed. Her nightgown covered her breasts and groin, but he saw enough of her legs to know that rumours didn't lie. She was enchantingly beautiful.