by Ilana Waters
It’s a miracle he can get laid in Stockholm in that getup, I thought. Then again, fire witches never seemed to have trouble in the romantic department. Mortals were often drawn to them like moths to, well, a flame.
George’s expertise in flames—explosives, to be precise—had come in very handy recently. After he helped us set up the bombs that took out Ferox et al, he surprised everyone by hightailing it to Stockholm and making suspicious magic. Turned out he wanted to keep Philip off my trail and prevent him from filing that report on me. It worked. On the PIA’s orders, Philip followed George, who made sure Philip’s time was spent fruitlessly searching for him.
“I’m sure by now you noticed that Philip returned to Rome,” George said. “I really am sorry for not being able to distract him longer. I guess I got a little too good at escaping every time he thought he had me. After a while, he didn’t know where to look anymore.”
“Yes, he mentioned something like that earlier. It’s just as well. That report turned out to be inconsequential. Ironically, we needed Philip back here.”
“Needed him there? But how can that be?”
“Ah, George,” I ran my fingers through my hair, “are you sitting down? I have rather a lot to tell you.” I went over everything that had happened since George and I parted ways.
“Bloody hell,” said George softly when I’d finished. “So a demon’s inside you, and always was. He used the crystal to help you be born so that he could come across. And on top of that, you actually met him? Wait, how do I know this is you, Joshua?” George’s voice became hard and suspicious. “How do I know I’m not talking to the demon right now?”
“Look, if you don’t believe me, Titus and Abigail will confirm it. You can call the Hassler back later and ask to speak to them.”
“Don’t think I won’t,” said George.
“For now, let’s just assume it’s me. Why would a demon tell someone who’s a stranger to him all his evil plans and machinations?”
“Good point,” said George. “So this Oblivious fellow—”
“Oblivion,” I said sharply. How dare he mock us.
“Erm, right. So, Oblivion wants to meld with you in order to take over the world, causing even worse horrors than Ferox had planned. We’ve already seen what he can do with hurricanes. And all you can do is hope that the PIA’s finest, Arthur and Philip, locate something in their dusty old books that will be useful.”
“Don’t forget the lemniscate,” I added. “It might be useful as well, if I can get it working. Or figured out.”
“I don’t know, Josh old boy.” George blew a puff of air out his lips. “I mean, it’s an interesting idea. But if you’re going to defeat a demon, I think you’ll need to do more than trace shapes in the air and hallucinate.”
“It wasn’t a hallucination! I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t that.” I looked around the room and out the window. Again, my mind was drifting to all the ways I’d enjoy making the bellboy suffer. I shook my head vigorously to clear it.
Should I tell George all the evil thoughts I’ve been having, not to mention the evil things I’ve almost done? No, I decided. It would only disturb him more while doing nothing to solve the problem.
“Josh?” George’s voice echoed on the phone I’d let fall away from my ear. “Earth to Josh.”
“Right. Sorry, George.” I readjusted the phone so I could hear him again.
“I was saying, now the PIA’s demon hunters are after you as well?”
“They’re called ‘consultants.’ ”
“Sounds very official. I feel much better. But no matter. I won’t drop the ball like I did with Philip; I’m sure I can keep the demon hunters off your back.”
“Philip’s already doing that. Or at least he’s supposed to.”
George groaned. “Did I mention what a wonderful idea I thought that was? Especially since you had to kidnap him before he finally agreed to help?” I touched my black eye where Philip had punched me. Oddly enough, it wasn’t as painful as I thought it would be.
“Look, he’s an insider with the PIA,” I said, “so it’ll be easier for him.”
“There must be something I can do,” George insisted. “You’re mad if you think I’m going to let you fight a demon all alone. Or that Colleen is.”
“NO!” I sat straight up in my chair. “Do not tell Colleen. In fact, do not tell anyone else. Do not come to Rome and do not try to help in any way. Oblivion could hurt you all if you get too close.”
“Have you gone round the bend? Everyone who knows you would be furious if they found out I kept this from them. Especially Colleen.”
“I’m sure you can handle another fire witch, George.”
George snorted. “This one? Not bloody likely. Have you met a man yet who could handle Colleen? Besides, I think she has a right to know, what with her being your—”
“It will only make her upset. And I hate to say this, George, but unless one of you is a demon expert, there’s nothing either of you can do. Please, I’m begging. I don’t want anyone to get hurt. You can spill everything after it blows over. Or I can.” If I’m still around.
Why are we even friends with this idiot? The thought came to me as if it were my own. He can’t even keep a sniveling mortal like Philip off our trail. Yet he thinks he can defeat us?
Shut up, Oblivion! I went to the nightstand, and with shaking hands, poured myself a glass of water. I took a few sips, but they tasted strangely metallic in my mouth. I should have known they would.
“Although,” I thought aloud as George listened, “I wonder if it would pay to call the High Council at this point.” The High Council, dear reader, is a governing body of thirteen witches. You’d think having some semblance of government would make one’s life more orderly. Unfortunately, the Council was more concerned about keeping the status quo, at times eliminating anyone they thought challenged it. But they could usually be counted on to deal with dangers that threatened them, or the fate of witches in general. I imagined that a demon from the netherworld would qualify.
“I mean, Lord knows I don’t want to,” I continued. “Especially after half their members threatened Titus and me when they thought we were in league with Ferox. But with their powers, maybe they could—”
“Yes, about the Council,” George interrupted, “there’s been a bit of a shake-up. Sort of a power handoff. The previous members have been destroyed.”
“Destroyed?” I repeated. “As in ‘dead’? All thirteen of them?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Grand!” There was silence on the other end of the line. “What? Oh, come now. They were a bunch of ponces, several of whom tried to kill me. More than once. But how on earth could such powerful witches be destroyed all in one go? Who—or what—could have done it?” I swallowed hard. “That doesn’t bode well for the rest of us.”
“Rumor has it that the Council was dealing with some dark force that came to earth from somewhere else. Much like Oblivion.”
I swallowed hard again. “Dark force? There’s more than one?”
“Yes, Joshua,” George sighed. “Because this is reality, not some fantasy story.”
“Well, I’m sure the Council did their best. Nice to know we’re not the only ones fighting evil.”
“We just do it better. Seeing as how we survived and all.”
“Yes . . . so far.” I loosened my collar. “But why didn’t you tell me about this straight away? Is someone—or something—trying to rid the world of witches?”
“No, no. What destroyed the Council is no threat to us. It’s gone. And there’s to be a new Council, I hear. A better one.”
“Maybe one that won’t try to kill me.” If I make it out of this demon mess alive.
“One can only hope.”
“Anyway, that’s a relief, I suppose. But I should go. I need to keep working on that lemniscate. Can’t be idle when there’s a demon afoot.”
“Best of luck, mate,” said George. “And look, you’ve done the impossible before. Forget what I said earlier. If anyone can save the world by making air drawings, it’s you.”
“Good. Because if this doesn’t go well, I may need you to say Kaddish for me.”
“There will be no need to say mourning prayers over you,” said George, “in Hebrew or otherwise. You are not going to die. Now stop being melodramatic and get on with it. And don’t hesitate to call if you change your mind and decide you want help. You know I have no problem blowing up the bad guys.”
You’re not going to change our minds, I thought, because they’re already made up.
***
After George and I hung up, I held the phone in my hand and stared at it for several minutes. Oblivion’s last thought terrified me. How long did I have until there was no difference between our minds at all, as he implied? Until there was nothing left of me to fight him?
No. I couldn’t think like that now. Whatever time I had must be used to find a way to defeat him. Maybe if I concentrated harder on making the lemniscate and didn’t give up, then—
The phone rang. I looked down, but didn’t recognize the number. I waited two more rings before picking up.
“Hel-lo?” I said. I held the phone a few inches from my ear. There was no way to know if this was Oblivion or someone he coerced to call me to do . . . something.
“Joshua. Glad I caught you.” The voice spoke in a tense whisper.
“Oh, Philip.” I exhaled in relief. “I’m so glad it’s you.”
“Erm, yes. Quite. Anyway—”
“How did lying to the PIA go?”
“What? Oh, swimmingly. Fortunately for Arthur and me, this isn’t the first time in PIA history something like this has happened. Supernaturals manipulating our associates and all. It helped the senior members buy the whole thing, and even earned Arthur some time off. Hold on.” I heard the muffled sound of a man and a woman talking. It grew farther and farther away, and Philip came back on the line. “That was close,” he breathed. “Look, can you meet with me in half an hour? I wish it could be sooner, but I can’t seem to beg off work today. If I try any harder, the rest of the PIA might realize something’s amiss. But I need to see you. I’ve got news about the consultant.”
I froze. “The demon hunter?”
“Yes. Background, photos, that sort of thing. I know more about you than anyone in the PIA, so I’ve been assigned as their liaison. That’s someone who assists the consultant in a non-fighting capacity.”
“Brilliant,” I groaned. “Just brilliant.”
“No, it’s a good thing. Believe me. This way, I can keep tabs on them. Keep the consultant away from you. So far, we’ve exchanged a few e-mails, but have yet to meet in person. And Joshua, you’re not going to believe who they brought in.”
“Ah, could they be here now?” I walked over to the window, pushed the curtain aside, and peered at the street below. I saw the usual mix of tourists and locals, but no one who might qualify as a demon hunter. Unless they dressed like everyone else, or scaled buildings with grappling hooks. I narrowed my eyes at the bottom of the window frame.
“I mean, if the hunter is following the demon flare, or whatever you called it, aren’t I a sitting duck?” I let the curtain fall back and stepped away from the window. “It’s like the PIA has supernatural GPS on me.”
“The flare only goes up once, and merely indicates a wide geographic area, like Rome, where the demon revealed himself. After that, we have no further magical advantages in trying to find you. But remember, Joshua, the key word here is hunter. Hunting is what this lot does. It’s fair to say they are expert trackers, with or without GPS.”
“I would meet with you, Philip, I really would. It’s just that . . . it’s not safe for me to leave the hotel. We—Oblivion, I mean—could make me hurt someone. Can’t you just send the details to my phone?” I asked.
“And leave a cyber trail for the PIA to find? One that implicates me in being in league with supernaturals? Absolutely not. I’m using a burner phone to talk to you as it is.”
“E-mails? Cyber trail? I thought the PIA wasn’t big on computers. I assumed you all believed they were the work of Satan.”
Philip let out an exasperated sigh. “Just because the PIA isn’t up-to-date on modern communication doesn’t mean the consultant and I can’t be. And if they were to launch an investigation into my comings and goings, they’d definitely check my technical equipment. Old-fashioned doesn’t equal stupid. Listen, we don’t have time to discuss this. The consultant could be on your trail right now. I’ll leave the PIA building as soon as I can. There’s a small cafe on the Via Sistina between here and the Hassler. Meet me there, in the back.”
I tried to protest. “What if one of the people I hurt is you, Philip?” Not that I wouldn’t relish the thought just a tiny bit.
“I told Arthur where I’m going, so if he doesn’t hear from me shortly, he knows to come looking. And we only need to convene for a minute so I can pass the information to you.”
“Well, all right, then.” I glanced around nervously, wondering if this was the right decision. But Philip had a point. I was at a severe disadvantage if I knew nothing about this demon hunter, including what he looked like. “Maybe if we do it very quickly. Just don’t tell Titus and Abigail.”
“Trust me,” said Philip. “I don’t want to have any more conversations with vampires and witches than necessary.” I was about to tell Philip I didn’t appreciate his tone. But he gave me the name of the café where he wanted to meet, then hung up.
I looked around the room, trying to determine the best way to slip out. Abigail was long back from hypnotizing Marcello, and had likely gone to sleep after such a rough night. My father, of course, wouldn’t be up until the sun set. The odds were good I could sneak away without them noticing. Though probably not from the elevator. Instead, I left via the window in my room. It was easy enough to cast an invisibility spell and fly down to the street.
Chapter 11
After I made myself visible again, I decided to take a cab instead of walk. Even though the café probably wasn’t far, I didn’t want to take a chance and miss Philip. What if he decided it was too risky to wait there? There was no line at the taxi stand this time, so I was grateful Oblivion wouldn’t have an excuse to violently hijack a cab. Not that he needed an excuse.
“Where to?” the driver asked in Italian without turning around. I gave him the name of the café. After a few minutes, I looked out the window and realized we were going the wrong way.
“Stop! What are you doing?”
“You said you wanted to go to the Museo dell’Ara Pacis, Signore,” the driver said. “Home to the Ara Pacis Augustae, one of the most ancient monuments in Rome,” he recited proudly.
“What? No, il caffè. Caffè.” The café’s name didn’t sound anything like “Museo dell’Ara Pacis.” From what I knew about the museum, it was right next to the Tiber, the ancient river that wound its way through Rome. That put it almost a half a mile away from the Hassler. I argued with the driver. I couldn’t tell if he was just being obtuse, or deliberately taking me to a place farther away to get a higher fare.
“Here we are, Signore,” he finally said. “Il Museo dell’Ara Pacis.”
“Fine, fine.” I shoved several crumpled bills into his hand and opened the door.
“Grazie.” He turned around to take the money, then frowned at me. “Are you sure you’re all right, Signore? You don’t look so good.”
“I’m fine,” I snapped. I’m just allergic to stupid cab drivers.
I had to wait at a taxi stand again so I could get back. I took out my cell phone and glanced down nervously at the clock, hoping I’d be able to meet Philip in time. I’d only been at the stand for a minute when I realized that several passersby were staring at me. Did I look unwell? I put my hand to my face. It felt thinner, the skin drier and more brittle. A few people whispered am
ong themselves and gave me a wide berth as they walked away. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I cast my eyes down.
Not far from the taxi stand was a walkway leading to a small park. I could see people relaxing there, or strolling along the Tiber’s banks. Many were taking advantage of the nice weather by having picnics. They lay on blankets, or sat in portable chairs on the grass. Children and dogs ran all around as sunlight sparkled on the water. There was no one else at the taxi stand, so I stepped a little ways into the park. I figured I’d still be able to hail a cab if it drove by.
Without warning, a great swell of water rose up from the river, like a giant hand emerging from the depths. I don’t mean it literally resembled a hand, yet that’s the feeling I got from it. As if the water had a will and a mind of its own. My eyes bulged. Mortals gasped and shrieked, moving away as quickly as they could. We looked up at the wall of water, which cast an enormous shadow as it loomed over us. There was an unbearable pause of a few seconds.
Then the water came down.
The sound was like an explosion. People screamed and tried to run, but the hand was too fast for them—and me. It swept through the park and walkway, as if to deliberately reach out and crush everything in its path. Trees and telephone poles snapped like matchsticks. I saw a small outbuilding collapse. But I didn’t have time to see much more before I was engulfed by the waves like everyone else.
It was like being underwater, except I had no control over my limbs, or the direction I went. I was tossed around violently—several stories high, I think, though I’m not sure which way was up. While it’s true that witches and mages cannot drown, the fact did little to calm or comfort me. Everywhere I turned were panic-stricken mortals, and I could do nothing as we all thrashed around helplessly. I tried to use my magic to control the water, but the element isn’t my forte. And when I struggled to fight it, both the magic and the waves brushed me aside like a gnat.
Oblivion.
I managed to glimpse the taxi stand and realized the waves were pushing us into the street. Then, they started dragging me and everyone else in the opposite direction, towards the river again. Finally, they dropped us straight down onto the grass and withdrew into the Tiber. I landed flat on my back, and the force of the fall knocked the wind out of me. But others fared much worse.
