by Kit Hallows
“He's infected,” Samuel called to me, his face grim. “You’ll have to decapitate him or he’ll rise again.”
I drew back the sword of intention and did as he’d asked. I felt no pleasure in the act, just a terrible emptiness.
“I’ll find help!” I whispered as I knelt beside Astrid. Her eyes were fixed on mine and she managed a brief, weak smile. There was a mix of emotions in her gaze. Love. Anger. Fear … of me. She grabbed my hand as her body convulsed and I received a jolting glimpse of her condition.
She’d been cursed. The pain would have been unimaginable to me had I not known it once myself. And as I recalled the night that Wyght’s witch had cursed me, I thought of Talulah. She’d cured me all those years ago. Maybe she could help, if I got Astrid to her in time…
My hands shook as I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed Talulah’s number. The phone rang and rang, and I choked as it went to voicemail.
58
My mind raced. I thought about driving Astrid straight to the shop, but Talulah might not even be there and there was no time to waste. It was clear by the weak, wandering gaze in her eyes that we didn’t have long.
I racked my brain as I tried to think of anyone else that could help. There were plenty of healers in the city, but I had no idea who possessed the skills or knowledge to handle a curse like this. My thoughts kept circling around memories of the night I’d been cursed and as they did, I thought of the Silver Spiral. And then of Willow and her coven.
Seraphina!
I had no way of reaching her by phone but the old dance hall where the witches lived and worked wasn’t far. Maybe they could help. It was a long shot, but it was all I had.
“What are we going to do?” Samuel asked. He spoke calmly for Astrid, but I sensed the panic churning below his words.
“The white witches from Temple Park, we’ll take her to them. Wait here, I’ll get a vehicle.” As I rose to leave I spotted the cowering blinkereds, still chained alongside the furnace. One had passed out and the others stared up at us in abject horror. “Can you release them,” I asked Samuel. “And help them forget this happened.” He nodded as I scooped up the rifle and ran down the stairs.
There were still restless wandering in the yard outside. They spotted me and staggered my way. I had no choice but to take them down. I brought up the gun and shot three through the head. They dropped immediately but the next one continued to twitch and moan as he came at me. I swung the sword and decapitated him, ending the poor bastard’s suffering. He blinked softly and the light in his eyes went out.
I ran through the yard toward the ambulances. The wind howled as I pulled the door of the nearest one open, climbed into the driver’s seat and reached up to start it.
The keys were gone.
I held my breath as my hand clung to the ignition and my mind raced. There was no time, not for this. I kicked at the pedals. The crushing grief flew from my lungs in a screaming, growling shout, then my swimming head lolled forward and struck the steering wheel.
As I inhaled a charge leapt from hand and the engine roared to life. “Thank you!” I gripped the wheel, threw it into reverse and raced backward toward the doorway of the mill.
Together Samuel and I lifted Astrid onto a stretcher and secured it in the back of the vehicle before gently closing the doors. Samuel’s face was as grave as mine as we climbed into the front. The ambulance lights flashed in the gloom as I sped down the drive, smashed through the security gate and raced toward the highway.
I switched on the sirens as we neared town. Samuel peered over his shoulder every few minutes to check on Astrid but neither of us said a word.
The old dance hall was on the outskirts of the city in a decidedly unpopular and disused part of town. How much of this was urban decay and how much was Seraphina and her coven’s doings was hard to say. I pulled up outside and pounded on the doors under the old marquee. A spirited young witch popped them open, saw my face and didn’t need much persuasion to summon Seraphina.
She appeared moments later, her fast bright eyes reading me in a flash. “What is it, Morgan?” she asked, her usually kindly face solemn.
“Cursed. My friend’s been cursed. She’s in a lot of pain. It’s bad.”
“Where?” Seraphina asked.
With a snap of her fingers several witches rushed to her side and I led them to the ambulance. We stood back as they carefully unstrapped Astrid and carried her toward the building.
“Is she going to be okay?” I asked.
“Yes. We can help her.”
“How long will it take?” I asked as I walked anxiously beside her.
“Three nights, that should do it,” Seraphina said, “but you can’t come in. This isn’t for you.”
I nodded. I got it. I leaned over and kissed Astrid lightly on the lips. Her eyes were still distraught, but a little of the cloudiness left them as she focused on me. “You’ll be okay, you're with friends.” I said. I placed my hand over hers and did my best not to wince at her ice-cold touch. I kissed her once more and then Samuel and I watched in silence as the witches took her inside and the doors closed softly behind them.
“What now?” Samuel asked as we stood on the still, empty sidewalk. I didn’t know how to answer and turned my gaze to the bare brittle branches that stretched up toward the stars. It seemed autumn was long gone and the dark months had arrived. I glanced at Samuel and saw the apprehension in his eyes. He was wary of me and I couldn’t blame him. I’d tainted myself with other people’s magic, Stroud’s included. And if that wasn’t bad enough, somewhere within my mind lurked his wicked, spiteful son.
“Three nights.” I whispered.
Samuel nodded but said nothing.
“Then we hunt down Stroud,” I said. “And destroy him or die trying. But come what may, I’ll never be his son. You know that right?”
Samuel looked me in the eye and gave a slight nod. “I believe in you, Morgan. You’re a good man, for the most part. Let’s keep that part of you alive and banish the other. As I said before, there are ways to do that, but not in this world.”
“Whatever it takes,” I said.
I walked toward the ambulance and called Haskins. “It’s over,” I said as he answered.
“You sure?”
“I can tell you where the bodies are.”
“That won’t be necessary. I’m already up to my neck in shit, Rook. The news crews are going crazy and there’s all sorts of wild rumors and speculation flying around about what happened at the festival. You got any hocus pocus that'll dial this nightmare back a notch or two?”
I glanced at Samuel. “No. But I might know a man who does.” I hung up and approached Samuel. “The story that the blinkered media’s dishing out about the festival needs be quelled.”
“I don’t think I could persuade that many people, Morgan” Samuel said. “Not unless you can get them all in one place and make sure I have a shit-ton of magic at my disposal.”
I shook my head, “You don’t need to persuade all of them. Just one or two will do, as long as it’s the right ones. Do that and the rest of the pack will follow.” I flicked through my phone, looked up the local news channel and paused on an image of their lead journalist.
Samuel’s eyes widened and he smoothed his mustache as his lips curled into a half smile. “I might just be up to it. Do you know where to find her?”
“She’ll find you if we offer her an exclusive. We just need a convincing enough tale to catch her interest.”
“Oh, I do pretty well with stories. Give me a moment or two and I’ll conjure up something sparkly and marvelous.” Samuel walked over to a bench, stacked his pipe and his eyes drifted to whatever scurrilous mind-palace he went to for plotting.
I called Dauple.
“Are you okay, Morgan?”
“No, but I will be. In a few days.” I told him about the mill, the blinkereds who would need help, the corpses, and how to dispose of Endersley’s work and equipment.
> “I’m on it. But what are you going to do? The Organization’s searching for you, and so’s the Council. You’ve stirred up a fire ant’s nest.”
“Then it’s time to raze it to the ground,” I said, then thanked him before hanging up.
A bitter wind shook the trees and sent the leaves on the sidewalk chasing themselves in rustling spirals. They made me think back to the visions I’d had in Copperwood Falls. Of Stroud leading a procession of the dead across a marble floor, and the scattering of leaves and dirt he’d left in his wake. At the time I’d thought it had been a hallucination brought on by the drugs they'd given me, but I was wrong. It had been a string of memories. My other’s memories of his time in Penrythe, and of his father.
No, not his memories. Our memories; I was just as alive as he was. Even more so perhaps.
I felt him stir within me, a dormant force once more. One I was certain would rise against me given time. I shook my head as I caught my reflection in an icy puddle. “You’ll be dead soon enough brother,” I said, “I’m coming for you, your father, the Council and everyone else who brought the darkness to this world.” I took a deep breath and released it slowly. “You’ll see, it’ll all go down like a house of cards. Whatever it takes.”
THE END
Dark Covenant
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Afterword
Thank you so much for reading Ender of Worlds. I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, please consider leaving a review on Amazon and Goodreads and spread the word!
And now it’s time for me to finish what I started. I’m busy writing book five, the conclusion to The Order of Shadows series, and it’s promising to be quite the epic adventure for Morgan and friends…
Kind wishes,
Kit Hallows
Also by Kit Hallows
The Order of Shadows Series:
Dark Covenant (A Free Prequel)
Dark City
Midnight Falls
A Game of Witches
Ender of Worlds
Short Works:
The Ghost’s Story
About the Author
Kit Hallows was born in London, England and now lives in the United States. Kit spends most his time sitting before a jet-black typewriter (that looks suspiciously like a laptop) dreaming up tales of urban fantasy, occult horror and adventure. Currently Kit’s busy writing the Order of Shadows series with Morgan Rook, as well as planning new adventures in dark new magical worlds.
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