“Look at these,” I said, pointing at the wounds. Three long, perfect gashes covered him from shoulder to hip, as if he had been killed with one single strike. I would have recognized the marks anywhere. “A creeper.”
Jason breathed deeply, blowing a long puff of air toward me in a half-whistle. “Let me make sure we’re on the same wavelength here: you found the medallion on a creeper, you discovered that it belongs to this guy, and as it turns out, he was killed by a creeper. Is it safe to bet that it was stolen from him?”
“Wow, you’re sharp,” I said sarcastically, staring blankly at the dead actor. I suddenly realized that I had only ever known him for the characters he’d played. When I stopped to think about that, it was kind of sad.
“Question is,” Link landed on my shoulder, but still refused to look at the corpse. “What do we do with the medallion now?”
“What do you think we should do?” I asked.
“Well, I agree with Jason. I think we should leave the medallion here and just call the police. Let them sort this whole mess out. In theory, we don’t even have to hang around to greet them – it can be anonymous. What do you think?”
Before I could give Link an answer – as if I had one to give – a brilliant blue light flooded the room in blinding flashes. I shot to my feet as my instincts took control of me, but I only made it one step before a sharp, burning pain ripped through me like a stream of electricity. A brief glance at Jason reflected the same agony, and then it dawned on me. I now knew what was attacking us.
It was magic – strong, well-focused magic.
And it hurt like hell.
CHAPTER FIVE
Tears of agony filled my eyes, obscuring my vision. Pain shot through my bones. Daggers pricked at every inch of my flesh. Even as the lightning spell abated, the aftershock stuck with me like a wallop on the nose, clouding my senses and making me numb.
“You killed him!” came a voice from somewhere before me; the shrill, horrified voice of our attacker. “You killed my master! He’s dead! He’s…”
Was he blaming us for the murder of Damien Louse? I supposed it might have appeared that way to an outsider looking in, but us; a Cardkeeper, a werewolf and a seemingly harmless old faery? No way. Something was rotten in Denmark, and I would be damned if I died before I got to the bottom of it.
Pinned down by the shock of the lightning spell, I fought against the surge and tried to collect myself. All I needed was a brief weak spot in the constant attack – a momentary pause in which I could break free. My magicard would take it from there.
Jason seemed to be doing better than me. Putting his own torture to one side, he began his transformation into a werewolf. His bones thickened and his flesh grew more resistant. It reminded me of a time when I had fought a werewolf using similar magic. I’d barely made it out of there in one piece.
“You… Goddamn you!” the voice of our attacker continued, as another bolt of electricity brewed at the edge of his staff with that rising, pulsing sound, ready to explode on us at a moment’s notice. “My master. My…”
As Jason’s jaw grew into a muzzle and his deep, petrifying roar shook the very air around us, I wondered what the attacker had meant. He was a mage, there was no question of that – but had he referred to Damien Louse as his master? Had Damien been a mage himself, prior to his untimely death? If so, it was news to me, though it did explain why he would be in possession of something like the cursed medallion.
The lightning bolt unleashed on me, speeding toward me in a fuzzy blue ball that lit up the room like Times Square. Barely able to move, I stood frozen, preparing to deal with the next sparking wave of assault. Jason was on the far side of the room now, scrambling desperately toward the mage and trying and stop him.
But it was too late.
I closed my eyes tight to accept my fate, but only a sizzling sound reached my ears, followed by a gasp from the mage across the room. I pried open my eyes to see what the hell was going on, only to find a light shining from around my neck. A brilliant light illuminated the room, as the medallion glowed like a beacon. The electricity hung in the air, kept at bay as if held in an invisible trap.
It was… protecting me.
Finally able to move, I danced to one side, and watched as the electric spell simmered out. The light from the medallion disappeared, and although I wanted to trust it to save my butt again, I couldn’t bank on it. I didn’t even know why it had protected me, much less whether I could put my faith in a repeat.
The mage cried out in anger now, his shaggy blonde hair matted to his forehead with sweat. The robes he wore were mages’ robes, but none I had ever seen before. His staff, long and black and crooked, glowed at the end, a beautiful light spiraling down to the hilt, where his knuckles had turned white from gripping so hard. The mage yelled at the top of his lungs as the light grew brighter, before it exploded from the staff in a dizzying yellow blast.
Jason hit the floor, concussed. I ran to him, vaguely aware of Link flying around the room and dodging the incoming shots. I knelt by Jason’s side, then helped him to his feet and stabilized him, just as the mage turned on us, his eyes wide and bloodshot. His teeth grinding between open lips.
“You killed him!” he yelled once again.
“I heard you the first time,” I screamed back, swiftly evading the next shot that he fired my way. “But we didn’t kill anyone. We found him this way, can’t you see that?”
The mage hesitated, his face revealing an expression of puzzlement as he contemplated what I’d said. Then, he shook his head as if to dismiss it, raised the staff again, and set his sights on me. “You took the medallion!”
Finally, I could feel my magicard begin to heat up again. As if it had been dormant this entire time, it now returned to me like an eagle’s talon clutching my hand. Now, we were one. Now, we were stronger, and this son of a bitch was going down.
A fireball grew from the end of the staff, and as it hurtled in my direction, I grabbed Jason and pulled him out of the line of fire. My body moved so fast, reacting on its own accord. It was as if the soul inside the magicard had taken on a life of its own. I helped lower Jason down behind the dresser and kicked it over, providing him with cover, but he didn’t want it. Instead, he let out a deafening roar that blew the drapes back over their rail, and even sent Link spiraling out of control in the air.
Stay down, I thought, seizing my opportunity to strike. Leaping across the room faster than the eye could see, I knocked into the mage and sent him sprawling out into the hallway. I landed safely in time to see him raise his staff once more, but before I could act, Link flew at him like a bat out of hell, knocking the weapon from his hand and leaving him defenseless.
While he was disarmed and vulnerable, I pounced on top of the mage and pinned him down by his wrists, fighting against his writhing, thrashing movements. “Calm down,” I screamed at him, though what I really wanted to do was punch him square in the nuts. “Calm down! We didn’t kill anybody. We found this medallion on a creeper and came here to return it.”
As Jason carefully returned to my side in his human form, the mage stopped struggling and gave in to his restraints. His eyes read surrender, and his struggle for breath confirmed his acceptance.
“See, if we were killers we would end you right now. But we just want to talk.” I climbed off the mage and kicked the staff to the far end of the hallway, before offering a hand. The mage took it and I lifted him to his feet, letting him feel my strength but showing him that I wasn’t a threat unless he made me one.
“You really didn’t kill him?”
“No,” I said, matter-of-factly. “We didn’t even know he was dead until we arrived.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I already told you; we’ve come to return the medallion.”
As I touched it, I felt a warmth filter through me. It was the same warmth that one experiences during a first kiss, or after being told that you’re good at something you love. I suddenly
thought twice about giving it back, but I knew keeping it wasn’t an option.
The young mage met my gaze, his eyes bloodshot and a tear rolling down his cheek. He rubbed it away with the baggy sleeve of his robe, turned, and then traipsed slowly down the hallway. “I think we’d better talk. Downstairs.”
I turned to Jason, who shrugged and looked away. Link, on the other hand, fluttered to my shoulder where he perched like a parrot and whispered in my ear, “Not like we have much bloody choice, is it? It’s just our luck; only a Cardkeeper could head out to return some jewelry and then end up in a scrap with a mage.”
“Zip it,” I told him.
With Jason at my side, I followed the mage downstairs and found him in the kitchen. He’d laid out four glasses across the island, pouring vodka into each one, all the way to the brim.
“Sit. Drink,” he said, sweeping away another tear.
We moved to comply, even Link, who struggled, not with the weight, but with the size and shape of the glass. Jason sat quietly on the end, his coat having been ripped open at the transformation again. I just enjoyed the view – he was perfect.
My own seat, after making the request, faced the door so as I could keep an eye on the exit. Anything could come in through that doorway, I figured, and I didn’t trust this mage just yet. I didn’t much like him, either.
“What’s your name?” I asked, as if opening an interrogation.
The mage sat across from me, knocked the vodka back in a single gulp, and then poured himself another. “Scott. Scott O’Hare.”
“Okay, Scott.” I took a sip of the vodka – nice, but useless. Due to our thick blood, alcohol didn’t affect immortals. But that didn’t mean we couldn’t enjoy it. “You said that Damien Louse was your master. That would mean he was a mage, right?”
Scott nodded without looking up.
“Good. So we know that the creepers wanted him dead anyway. Question is, why did they take the medallion in the first place? Do you know any reason why they might have wanted it?”
“I don’t know.” Scott shrugged, sparing me only a brief glance before returning his attention to the glass in his hand. He took a long sip and then cleared his throat. “I didn’t even know it was missing until now. But now that it’s here…”
He didn’t need to say more. My hands were already reaching around to my neck, starting to pull the chain up over my head to give the thing up. Sad as I was to see it go, I knew it was for the best.
But then he stopped me.
“What are you doing?” Scott said, suddenly coming to life.
“Handing it over. Don’t you want it?”
“No.”
I looked to Jason, then to Link, who both appeared as confused as I felt. I let the chain slink back down my neck, feeling the medallion bob at the end like a pendulum. Secretly, I was glad that I didn’t have to part with it, but it did necessitate questioning. “Why not?”
“It’s not mine. It needs to go to its rightful owner.”
“But Damien is…”
“Not Damien.” Scott shook his head, sat up straight. “His next of kin.”
“And who might that be?”
A single shrug was all I got. Not helpful. All I needed to do was get this damn thing back to its rightful owner, and there didn’t seem to be a single clue as to that person’s identity. “You must know something, right? Some bit of trivia about your master’s personal life? Some place he used to hang out so I can ask around and see who’s next in line for this thing?”
Scott O’Hare, now appearing as little more than a tedious young boy with his patience wearing thin, set down his glass and slid it across the island. It screeched across the marble, the last remnants of his drink spilling out. “I don’t know, all right?”
“He had no friends?” I pushed, feeling guilty. The obnoxious grilling was a necessary evil.
“No. None. Only acquaintances. Sometimes the trolls came by here, and I’ve seen the faeries more times than I care to count, but he didn’t have any real friends. Now if you’ll be so kind, the door is over–”
“Wait,” Link screamed out, shocking us all with the power of his voice. In an instant, he spread his wings and floated over the island, landing in front of Scott with his arms folded across his tiny chest. “What was that about the faeries?”
Scott’s eyes went from Jason to me, then back to Link. The mage looked guilty as sin. “Just that they came here sometimes. You know, just out of professional concern.”
I could almost hear Link’s heart pounding.
“They came here?” he demanded. “To this exact place?”
“Yes. I… Yes.”
Link spun around then, looking me dead in the eye. I could read his thoughts. If the faeries had something to do with this, then maybe we could ask them. It had always been a lifeline of his, but Link had preferred to keep himself and his family separate. It looked like that was about to change.
“Do you want to go?” I asked him. “You don’t have to.”
Link kicked the tumbler in a fit of anger, sending it soaring across the room before smashing into the wall and raining shards of pointy glass. “I do have to though, don’t I? If it’s the only way we’re going to find out where that enchanted bling comes from.”
My heart sank in my chest. I was well aware of how little his family liked him. “You’re sure?”
“I suppose. Let’s just go.”
As Link hopped off the counter and glided toward the front door, Jason and I shot to our feet and followed him. I breezed past Scott, slowing only briefly to place a hand on his shoulder and whisper into his ear, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Scott, alone now, shrugged my hand away and dropped his face into his hands.
Poor kid, I thought as I headed for the door. As much as I wanted to stick around and console him, I had bigger fish to fry. After knowing Link for over six years, I was finally going to meet his family. And if they were as bad as he’d indicated over the years, I wasn’t going to enjoy the encounter.
Not. One. Bit.
CHAPTER SIX
To say that Link led us to a sewage pipe would be inaccurate. Rather, he had taken us to a large, standalone pipe that wasn’t attached to anything. It was nothing more than an old, rusted, circular tube of corrugated metal sitting on the bank of the river. To the untrained eye, it would pass as a part of the sewage network, but we knew better. We knew that it was the gateway to something far more incredible.
The early morning sun beamed off the river, sparkling up into my eyes with kind aggression. I turned my back to the glare and watched Link as he wrapped his tiny fingers around the sewage grate, and then ripped it right off its hinges.
“It’s just there for show,” he insisted, waving us inside.
I exchanged a look of skepticism with Jason before following Link into the pipe. Not entirely sure what to expect, I imagined some kind of warped, happy-joy lollipop world. Any land where faeries could live carefree simply had to be enveloped in some sort of fairytale mysticism, right?
Wrong.
Neglecting my own doubt, we walked further into the pipe and into darkness. Although the pipe itself could only have been twenty meters long, we seemed to be going much farther in. Where we should have emerged on the opposite end by now, the metallic inside path stretched on and on, leading us into eerie darkness.
“Are you sure this is safe?” Jason asked, his voice echoing off the metal.
“Stop being a wimp,” Link said, landing on my shoulder and taking up root. “It’s how I came to your world and it’s how we’re going back. And don’t worry about being followed – people can only come through if they’re invited.”
“Are we invited?” I asked.
“By me, sure.”
“But not by your family?”
Link grunted. “Even I’m not invited by them.”
Without a light to guide us, we ventured deeper into the pipe for several minutes. The smell of the river faded, slowly being r
eplaced by a scent that reminded me of incense. It reeked of a gypsy cart, but oddly enough, I kind of liked it.
“Okay,” Jason said, trudging through the dirt that had amassed over all the years that this pipe had laid dormant, “I have a question for you, Link.”
“Shoot.”
“How come you’ve never been home? I mean, this is where your family comes from and I’ve heard you say that you miss them. But why don’t you ever run back for vacation? Don’t you like it there? Don’t you miss it?”
Link sighed. “There’s a difference between home and hometown. Just because I was born there, it doesn’t mean I belong there. Besides, I’ve got Keira now. What other reason would I have to stick around in Chicago?”
As he nuzzled into my cheek, I held Link closer and smiled. Sure, he had me for now, but what about when I was no longer a Cardkeeper? A great number of things could happen to me then, but I swept the unpleasant thoughts aside. Instead, I straightened up and continued forward, keeping my secret troubles to myself.
Eventually we came to a light at the end of the tunnel, and I stopped myself from making the pun aloud. Link leapt off my shoulder again, spreading his little white wings and taking point. Once again, the image of a land of color entered my imagination, like Willy Wonka’s vibrant chocolate factory, bursting with life and splendor.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
The pipe led out onto a small field with tall trees surrounding the perimeter. I felt us pass through a portal to another world, my skin changing temperature and starting to tingle. The sun was high in the sky but hidden behind a cluster of grey clouds. A whiff of cowpies blended with a strong scent of jasmine and assailed my senses, and as I turned to Jason, I noticed him pinching his nose.
“Over there,” Link said, and flew on into the distance without us, where a small collection of tents laid waiting on the hillcrest. Two or three wagons sat idly beside them, adding support to my earlier incense suspicions.
“Guess we’re going up there,” said Jason.
The Cardkeeper Chronicles: Books 1-5 (Complete Collection) Page 30
