The Four Kings

by Scott Spotson

  Demus spoke haughtily. “My image? What’s wrong with my image? I am, after all, a powerful wizard.”

  “That may be so,” Bruce remarked carefully, “but you have to think from the point of view of Mortals. Actually, you should call them ‘people’ from now on. They don’t call themselves Mortals. They just don’t know you.”

  “How dare you!” Indie said through gritted teeth. “We’ve deliberated all the issues for hundreds of hours in front of them. How can they know us any better?” She jabbed her arm into the air toward him. “Did you, in any shape or form, work on any of the campaigns of that conniving imbecile, Arthur K. Walker?” She couldn’t bear to say former President in front of his name.

  “No,” Bruce said.

  “Good,” Indie snapped, as she turned her head away from him. Then she turned and pointed back at him. “His worth has just shot up.”

  Bruce grimaced. He held out his hands as if attempting to connect to them, and bent over slightly to one side. His shoulders hunched, he said, “People don’t think that way. They want to see you as human.”

  Justica groaned loudly. “That’s the point. We’re not human! We’re wizards.”

  The consultant knew how to be convincing. He held on to his glasses as he started at her. “And yet you claim to represent humans.”

  The four wizards fell silent.

  Bruce had scored a point. “Very well.” He tugged at Regi’s arm. “This way, sir. We’re going to show your warm and cuddly side.”

  “Cuddly?” mocked Indie. “What is he, a teddy bear?”

  The political strategist ignored the remark. Matching up Regi with an impossible good-looking young married couple, Bruce said, “Regi, meet the Coopers. They’re your typical middle-class family just starting out. They’re worried about their future, but just need to be assured of their trust in the Liberators.” The beaming mother was holding a baby in her arms.

  Without skipping a beat, Bruce walked up to the mother, and gestured for her to hand the baby over to him. She did so with slight trepidation. Then, Bruce brought the baby over and placed it into Regi’s arms.

  Regi gasped as he, for the first time in his life, held a squirming, babbling baby.

  Amanda gushed over the sight. Regi, holding a baby! She felt like going awwww….

  Bruce said before stepping away. “Talk to them. I’m going to set up the photos now. Smile at the camera. Don’t worry, we tested them in a focus group, and they’re very strong supporters of the Liberators.”

  Justica spoke out. “You pre-selected them! How’s this representative of a democracy?”

  “Trust me. This is how it works. Now, do as I say!”

  Three photographers lined up in front of Regi, the Coopers, and their baby. They clicked away as the Coopers, obviously well-trained for the cameras, smiled and posed from every photogenic angle. A sheepish Regi could only nervously glance at the baby, which squirmed in his arms, and hope that he wouldn’t drop it.

  “Good, good.” Bruce squinted his eyes. “That baby blue blanket, nice contrast against Regi’s yellow shirt.”

  “Oh goodie,” Indie spoke out loud, rolling her eyes, “Next, you’ll be picking out China patterns.”

  Bruce sternly turned to her with his finger in the air. “Don’t mock it, Indie. These color-themed shirts have done far more for your brand image than any of your debates on economics.” He turned around from a shocked Indie and spoke to Regi. “Regi, act natural. Talk to them. Anything. Show how you connect.”

  Regi, uncertain, fumbled about as he valiantly tried to think of a topic for these – Mortals. “Mrs. Cooper,” Regi finally said, “what do you think about the elasticity of demand and supply in a post-transition economy?”

  Mrs. Cooper blinked, and then flashed her smile for the cameras. She giggled and patted her hand on Regi’s shoulder. “The only elasticity I worry about,” she said, “is the one around my pyjamas bottoms when I go to bed.”

  Bruce was beaming. “Good. Good. We’ll edit that for release this afternoon.”

  Disgusted, Indie and Demus slowly strolled away from the admiring crowd, which was looking the other way, at the spectacle of a famous wizard mingling with his “constituents.” They glanced around to make sure no one could hear them as they whispered to each other.

  “Nauseating,” Demus said.

  “Scandalous,” Indie agreed. She glanced at him again. “Are you working on it?”

  Demus had a wide grin. “Yes. It is time to release the Prophecy.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Demus and Amanda materialized in the center of Emerana, the grand fortress of the Liberators. This was Amanda’s third visit and she was on a mission – to find out exactly was the “key” to Elsedor’s statue – the one that Demus claimed couldn’t be unlocked by any wizard.

  Maybe a Mortal can do it, she thought.

  It was a faint hope, but if the secrets to such a revered god could be revealed, it could go a long way to blocking any control the wizards had over humanity. Amanda knew Demus was infatuated with her. Should she play to his emotions, she might, just might get what humanity needed.

  “Thanks, Demus,” Amanda said, hugging him. “I so much want to know how you wizards play your games. Maybe you can train me!”

  The powerful wizard laughed. “Amanda, it’s always been an interest of mine that you get involved. Just because you’re not a wizard, doesn’t mean you can’t do it.”

  Amanda’s heart beat faster as she formulated exactly what she was going to say. “You said that there was a key to unlocking Elsedor’s power. You said no wizard has managed to find out. Can you explain more? Is there some sort of game you have to play to satisfy Elsedor?”

  Demus’ eyes revealed both surprise and intrigue. “Yes, I’ve tried several times, and failed each time. Elsedor is simply too great a god to be so easily revealed.” He gazed up, as if looking toward heaven. “It’s rumoured that any wizard who can unlock Elsedor’s secret would become the next wizard god.”

  “Wow,” Amanda smiled, amazed. “Imagine you as a god, Demus. It couldn’t happen to a better wizard.” She was laying the praise on very thick.

  Somewhat to her surprise, Demus took the bait. “Well,” he bragged, “It did cross my mind many times. What wizard hasn’t?” He took her arm, and tugged at her. “Come. I’ll show you how it works, on a basic level.”

  Amanda’s adrenalin was now sky-high. She tried not to show too much excitement. “I’d like that.”

  “Very well, we’re going to play a game. You’re going to try to figure out the key.”

  “Can Mortals have the power to find the key?”

  He was excited. “I don’t know. We’ve never had a Mortal try. But if I had to pick any Mortal, it’d be you, Amanda.”

  Her cheeks turned pink as she blushed. “How does it work?”

  “I’m going to set up a game. Once the game gets underway, and you have to defeat something, you say, ‘Show me your key’.” That’s the way we all do it.”

  Amanda’s mind raced ahead. “Demus, can wizards kill each other with magic?”

  Demus seemed startled. “No. Magic can’t be used to kill wizards.” He dreamily started upwards. “That’s the beauty of it. It’s the force that unifies us, the power that compels us to work together – and to play against each other.”

  Amanda’s voice was strained now. “But you used magic as a teenager, Demus, to kill two Mortals. So can magic be used to kill Mortals?”

  His eyes glared with vitriol. “Yes. Since Mortals do not have magic, magic can kill them.”

  A chill set over Amanda. Yet, she had to keep digging for clues. “So if a wizard turns his magic on another wizard, intending to kill the other wizard, it can’t work?”

  “No. It has been tried before. The magic acts as both a force and as a deterrent. It recognizes itself at both ends. So, if a wizard unleashes a powerful spell on another wizard, the magic will refuse to kill.”

  Amanda’s eyes
widened. “What if a wizard doesn’t kill the other – but uses a spell to trap a wizard? How does the other wizard get out?”

  A gleam in Demus’ eyes. “Aha. Now you’re getting very warm, Amanda. This all goes back to the concept of ‘key.’ Magic realizes that to trap is to control forever, unless there was be an escape valve.”

  “I get it!” Amanda exclaimed. “You say Show me your key.”

  Demus, a smug expression on his face, slowly pointed to her twice. A look of warm approval accompanied each gesture. You got it.

  She wanted to jump up and down childishly in excitement, but refrained herself. “So a powerful wizard puts a spell on you, trapping you. Then you say, ‘Show me your key.’ Then what happens?” She was now puzzled.

  Demus held out his hands and tilted his head as if acting magnanimously. “There’ll be a riddle, a game, or a contest. If you solve it, or finish the game, you’ll be released from the spell.”

  Amanda was enthralled. What a concept! So magic was forgiving, as well as dangerous. It allowed the casualty to have a second chance. It challenged one not to retaliate in anger, but rather to accomplish creativity.

  “Let’s begin,” Demus said eagerly. With a wave of his hand, a musical carousel spun around and around in front of them. Amanda was enchanted as she watched. It looked beautiful as well as repulsive. Bobbing up and down on poles were an assortment of weird creatures; a centaur, a griffin, a dragon, a unicorn, a Pegasus, a lion, a hippogriff, a hydra, a manticore, a minotaur, a basilisk, a wolf, and a harpy. All appeared to be composed of shiny hard plastic, with painted color on top. The roof on top was striped (and sloping) outward from the center in alternating red and white colors; much like that of a traditional carousel.

  Demus took a deep bow. “Be my guest,” he said, pointing both arms toward the carousel.

  Something within Amanda’s heart told her not to go on it, but she brushed aside her qualms. She had to find out how the game worked. Besides, she loved carousels as a kid. Even though she was an adult, they still held appeal to her.

  All the creatures on the carousel appeared to be ghastly and frightened her. The only one that seemed friendly was the unicorn. She grabbed the pole, boosting herself up by placing a foot into the stirrup just below the saddle. Lifting her other leg and swinging herself over by torqueing around the pole, Amanda agilely sat on the unicorn. Demus didn’t even bother pulling himself up; he instantly appeared on the creature side by side hers: the wolf. Amanda peered closely at the molded wolf’s face: it had an ominous sneer, which startled her.

  “Thirteen creatures on this merry-go-round,” said Demus, holding onto his pole with one arm, “Pretty bad luck, don’t you think, Amanda?” Amanda slowly moved her head up and down to keep a watch on Demus’ face as his body – and his seat – gyrated in tandem with the music.

  Uneasily, Amanda wondered what was next. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Are you enjoying yourself?”

  “Yeah, I loved carousels as a kid.” She looked around, puzzled. All the other creatures, devoid of any riders, were also bobbing up and down rhythmically. “What’s the game, Demus? I don’t see anything?”

  He devilishly held up one finger. “Oh, be patient. It’s coming.”

  Amanda’s nerves tightened. She still didn’t trust him. “If you say so.”

  The two encircled the merry-go-round a few more times, with lovely music blaring away. Demus kept absorbing in all the stimuli; he would gaze at Amanda lovingly with a wide grin a few times, then stare ahead, and then back to Amanda again. She put on a brave smile, secretly enjoying the soothing rhythm of the ride. Eventually, the music ended, and the carousel slowed to a stop.

  Amanda dismounted. “That was a very easy game, Demus.”

  The wizard materialized right beside her. “Oh, it’s not over yet.” He pointed to an object in the carousel floor that she hadn’t noticed yet. It was a gleaming sword, embedded into the hard plastic floor, its gold ornate handle sticking out. Amanda wondered how it could’ve been speared into the carousel base without disturbing its smooth rotation.

  “Take it out, and the game begins.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you.”

  She laughed nervously. “Am I King Arthur? Is this Excalibur?”

  “No, and no,” Demus mysteriously rubbed his chin, his eyes slightly down. “Just take it, Amanda.”

  “Well, most knights couldn’t remove the sword.” Amanda grasped the handle, and startled herself by just pulling it out of the floor with ease. It was just like drawing it from a sheath. No resistance at all.

  “That was too easy, Demus, are you sure?” Amanda turned to look up at him. She gasped. He was gone. She frantically looked around. No sight of him. She heard many metallic clicking sounds. A series of iron fences, gridded across from top to bottom, sprang up from the rim of the carousel, cutting off any escape that she had.

  Amanda reacted in horror, her knuckles white as she firmly held on to the sword. “Demus, where are you?” She shuddered and recoiled in terror; many of the creatures were coming alive! The poles had all vanished, freeing these beasts. They all maintained their molded plastic appearance, making them cold and frightening. Stiffly, yet effectively, they headed toward her with a pace that must’ve been glacial, yet Amanda feared for her life. Mist fogged her brain; she had never been so scared in her entire life.

  She was dimly aware of Demus’ disembodied voice, then quickly snapped to attention. “Amanda, use your sword. I’ve set up this game to be really easy. All you have to do is touch them with your sword, and they’ll vanish. You don’t have to battle them.”

  Amanda’s voice had an edge of panic. “And if I don’t?”

  The answer wasn’t reassuring. “Well, if you don’t do anything, it’s possible one of them could kill you.”

  Holy shit!

  Amanda grimaced to herself. Her eyes fixated on the closest beast to her: the wolf, upon which Demus had sat not too long ago. Its shiny surface – any hair it had was merely painted upon it – horrified her. The wolf snarled, growled, arched its back, and dangerously advanced one of its front paws toward her, showing its threatening claws. Saliva ran from the wolf’s snarling jaw. Slowly, but unwavering, it advanced toward her.

  Now! Amanda thought. Using a backhanded swing, Amanda brought the blade of the sword against the wolf’s jaw. There was a metallic clang. The menacing wolf then vanished before it could spring upon her.

  Perspiring and breathing heavily, Amanda’s nerves were on fire as she realized there were twelve more creatures to go – and that she hadn’t yet checked behind her! When she rapidly spun around, she was absolutely terrified. A Minotaur’s head, consisting of red glowing eyes, two thick curved horns, and bull-like features on the face, hovered within two feet of her! Its arms extended out aggressively, ready to attack her. Her flight impulse almost took over when she realized she’d only run into more abominable creatures. Mustering all her courage, almost dropping her sword out of fright, she brought the heavy blade slamming onto the Minotaur’s forehead. Another clang. The Minotaur then vanished, but not before Amanda stared into its cold, malevolent eyes.

  Catching her breath, she rapidly spun around, again and again. She had much more space this time. The other vile creatures were still upon their relentless, robotic march – all toward her. Now that she had but a second to relax, her fear took over. If it’d just been a make-believe session, or these were obviously holograms, like wispy images of projected light, she could probably handle this easily. But she was scared out of her wits. She did not want to finish this fight.

  And then –

  She finally realized what Demus wanted her to do. Closing her eyes for a brief moment, she forced herself to speak out loudly and clearly, “Show me your key.”

  Then nothing. These horrid beasts were still closing in on her. She began to panic again.

  She heard galloping footsteps from behind. She swung her face into the direction of the palpable sou
nds, growing louder with each step. It was the unicorn! Appearing like a white deity, as a real horse – it had shed its plastic sheer – it started attacking the other creatures, impaling them with its long horn. One at a time, the threatening beasts vanished as they were stabbed by the unicorn. When Amanda saw the unicorn spear the last monster, the hippogriff, she knew it was over. For the first time since the game began, she felt a massive release of relief.

  The sounds ceased.

  The carousel vanished.

  Amanda was now standing on the floor of the Emerana fortress, where she had been all along. She still felt the heavy object weighing down one arm and looked at it; the metal sword was still in her hand.

  Behind her, she heard clapping. Turning around, she saw Demus, an impressed look on his face, cheering. “Well played, Amanda!”

  Not knowing what she was doing, Amanda spontaneously burst out in fury. “You dumbass, Demus!”

  Demus had a puzzled expression on his face, shrugging his shoulders and backing away from Amanda’s threatening pose. “Hey, what’s the big deal? It was very easy.”

  She was shrieking now. “Don’t you ever, ever do that again!” Full of rage, she brought the sword smashing over Demus’ right arm; the edge of the blade perfectly aimed straight at him. The sword just soundlessly bounced off his arm as if he was made of tough rubber.

  “Hey,” exclaimed a startled Demus, clearly not understanding why Amanda was upset. “What’s wrong?”

  “Take that!” Amanda hollered. “And that!” She rained a series of blows upon Demus, with each thrust not hurting him at all.

  “Amanda, stop it!” Demus was losing his patience. “I told you magic cannot hurt a wizard. And I can easily defend myself anyway.”

  “Bastard! Bastard!” Amanda cried out, striking him again and again with the weapon. She was losing control of herself. It was like a fiery beast had been released within her, pure hatred.

  After more blows from Amanda, Demus started vanishing and materializing again and again, as a thoroughly exhausted Amanda could no longer muster the strength to even carry the heavy sword. Severely weakened, she dropped the sword. It clanged upon the floor. Then she fell to her knees, sobbing with such force that her shoulders were heaving.