Dark Arts

by Randolph Lalonde

  “Don’t worry about where,” Bernie said. “My dad told me this morning about the Dawn Shard, how Sam’s theory is right.”

  “What theory?” Maxwell asked.

  “It has to keep moving,” Allen said as he came through the screen door. “It can’t be kept in the same place for this long, otherwise it gathers local spirits, and worse. There have been people at the crossroads since dawn cleansing the place. Samuel was there for a while, but they had to bring him back to his trailer. He wanted to be there when you got it out of the ground so he could give you his blessing before you left. I saw him for a minute, and he told me he hates being right, he believes you’ll do the right thing and start travelling with it.”

  Maxwell thought for a moment, aware that Bernie and Miranda were waiting for him to say something, but the mouthful of egg casserole bought him time. The last thing on his mind was food, and his appetite was disappearing fast as he accepted the reality of the situation. He was cursed.

  He swallowed and looked to Miranda. “It’s the only thing that makes sense, that the bloody thing can’t stay in one place for long. Looks like we’re digging this up then I’m back on the road. I’m not going to let some poor sod volunteer to do this for me.”

  “We’re on the road,” Miranda said. “You don’t have to go alone.”

  “It’s worse than what you’re thinking, Max,” Allen said, sitting down. He looked right at his son as he went on, as though trying to get a point across. “Big populated spots, like hospitals, police stations, anywhere where there the Shard might come into contact with haunted places are the worst places for it, and once you pick this up, it leaves its mark. You attract things almost as badly. It’s obviously marked you, otherwise that Pastor would have kept to his church yard like he’d been for so long.” He looked towards Maxwell. “We didn’t tell you because, well, I think you know.”

  “One last hurrah,” Maxwell said. “So, you can’t touch it,” he nodded at Miranda. “And you can’t touch it either,” he pointed at Bernie.

  “You won’t have to worry about money,” Allen said. “The leaders I was able to meet with this morning are happy with you being their courier, finding things for them and passing other things from one circle to another. The circles that are uncomfortable with you touching anything they want found or delivered are happy to take a collection for you every few months. They just don’t want you anywhere near their communities.”

  “I understand,” Maxwell said. “I don’t blame either of you if you stay here,” he told Miranda.

  “No, you don’t get to leave me behind,” Miranda said. “Even if New York is too dangerous, I’d rather be with you on the road than waiting at home for someone to find a good place to stick the Shard for good.”

  “You’re going to need help keeping that old Edsel on the road,” Bernie said.

  “You’re staying here, Son,” Allen said firmly. “Tibeault has a car for them, it’s not new, but it’s in good shape, straight from his dealership.”

  “I’m going with them,” Bernie said.

  “No, you’re going to be here, answering the phone, setting things up for them whenever you can by calling ahead. They don’t need a third in the car, but they will need someone like you, with experience booking gigs, setting up hotels when they can afford it, arranging meet-ups on the road.”

  “He’s right, Bernie,” Maxwell said. “As much as I’d like you to come along, we’ll need help from outside the car.” His mind was already working as though he would be back on the road by nightfall. He remembered the deep cold at the crossroads, and had a feeling that the Dawn Shard was calling out to something no one wanted to face. It, and he had to go. “We’ll need all the help we can get if we’re going to be out there for a long time while you do research on putting the Dawn Shard to rest somewhere. There has to be an answer outside of the Book of Doors.”

  “What’s the solution there?” Bernie asked.

  “It’s not a solution,” Maxwell said, regretting mentioning it at all. “Nothing anyone would do. Nothing anyone should do.”

  “But there is something, maybe we can figure something else out based on that,” Miranda pressed.

  “It’s a resurrection spell,” Maxwell said. “Bring the bones of the deceased out, put a powerful vessel for souls on its chest, and sacrifice an innocent with the spirit belonging to that body present. The energy of the innocent, and the essence of the trapped souls restore the spirit to the body and make it whole again. Alive like you or me. Whatever vessel you use to gather souls for this is destroyed, but the resurrection requires the death of an innocent and violates the covenant. The walls keeping big magic and bad things out would come tumbling down.”

  “Still, there has to be other magic that can trade the power in the Dawn Shard for something better,” Bernie said.

  “I’ve never seen it,” Allen said. “But we’ll both look. People across the world will look as we let them in on the secret. It’s going to take time to decide who we tell, there will be people who want the Dawn Shard because it has so much potential for drawing power.”

  “We’ll find a way,” Maxwell said. “Should go pack, won’t take long, then go get it now, though.” He turned to Miranda. “Are you sure you want to come with me?”

  “Don’t you want me to?”

  “Oh yes, but it’s my burden, and we will eventually run into people who will do anything for it, as bad as Panos or worse.”

  “There had better be two of us, then,” she said. “Besides, I can handle myself.”

  “I have no doubt,” Maxwell said.

  “We’ll make it our time,” Miranda said. “A long vacation, we’ll see the sights.”

  Maxwell smiled at her and allowed himself to feel relief. “Grand plan. Thanks, luv.”

  “Your aunts aren’t going to be happy, but they won’t be surprised, either,” Allen said. “Before we pick up the Shard, Scott and Uncle Desmond want to see you, and the police have things under control at the hospital, so I thought I’d give you a lift. Miranda’s Aunts are there right now, so you can talk to them about your plans there, then come back to get the stone after.”

  “Last chance, can’t take the shard there,” Maxwell said. “How is April?”

  “She’s in and out, but Scott says she knows he’s there. The doctors are happy he’s sticking around,” Allen said.

  Maxwell took a breakfast sausage, some bacon and wrapped it in a pancake. “No time like the present,” he said as he stood up.

  “That’s an idea,” Miranda said, doing the same.

  XVIII

  Miranda and Maxwell were dropped off at the emergency section of the General Hospital so they could avoid the press, and it worked for the most part. One reporter, his hair a mess, tape recorder under his arm almost got in their way. He met them with his little black and silver microphone, pointing it into Maxwell’s face. “Do you have any comment on your lead singer’s-“

  Maxwell brushed past, without saying a word, and the security guard kept the reporter from getting into the Emergency waiting room.

  The elevator leading to the fourth floor was empty, so Maxwell took the opportunity. “I’m sorry about New York,” Maxwell told Miranda.

  She smiled at him, not a reassuring creak of the mouth, but one of her warm, full-lipped loving smile. “Even if we’re on the road for years, New York will still be there. Besides, we’re going to see so much together. It’s happening fast, but I’m getting excited too. We’ll be doing a good thing.”

  “You keep surprisin’ me, luv,” Maxwell said.

  “I know,” she replied.

  The doors opened, and they started down the hall towards the family room. “Hello, Max,” Darren said as he emerged from a hallway to their right.

  “Where have you been, man?” Maxwell asked.

  “Did you get the Dawn Shard back?” Darren asked. He looked like he hadn’t washed or changed his clothes in days, and there was something different about the way he sp
oke.

  “You all right?” Maxwell asked.

  “Just wondering, I heard there are a lot of people waiting for you to pick up the Shard,” Darren said. “Sounds important.”

  “Don’t worry about that, mate. Where have you been? Just hanging about with some of the Gatherers?” Maxwell said as he moved to keep walking down the hall and put his arm around Darren. If he wasn’t possessed, then there was surely something serious wrong with his friend.

  Darren pushed him away, pulling a gun from his pocket. “Just give me the shard and the book and everything will be fine,” he said.

  Scott emerged from the bathroom behind Darren, saw the gun begin to turn towards him and lunged for it. The weapon went off, Maxwell rushed Darren, and he was forced to the floor under the weight of him and Scott.

  He got a grip on Darren’s wrist and another shot went off, firing down the hall. “Help!” Miranda shouted, waving down a hallway at someone he couldn’t see.

  Maxwell elbowed Darren in the face, stunning him just long enough so he could get the gun out of his hand and toss it across the floor. In the next instant, something grabbed him by the scalp. The florescent lights above flickered, and Maxwell felt a dozen hands on him, grabbing at his shirt, his wrists, and his legs as they tried to drag him down the hall.

  Scott was on the floor, bleeding from his leg, and Darren began to stand with his hands raised towards Max. “Where are they?” he demanded through grinding teeth.

  “What’s going on here?” demanded a security guard who arrived with two nurses in tow.

  Darren glanced at them, and they were pressed against the walls.

  “Panos,” Maxwell said as he struggled to fend off the unseen hands, their nails were digging into his skin. “Where’d you get the power for this.”

  “I started opening doors,” Panos said using Darren’s skin. “Oh, the things I’ve seen, the wonders a couple sacrifices gets you. I need the shard and the book to continue. Where are they?”

  The hands closed around Maxwell’s mouth and nose, and then he heard two gunshots. The side of Darren’s face exploded into a shower of blood and bone. Everything that held Maxwell and the guards in place released them. Miranda lowered the gun, her face frozen in a stunned expression, and Maxwell rushed to Darren’s body. No one could survive the damage the gunshot did. He patted his fingers in the blood pooling around the body’s head and drew a circle on Darren’s shirt. “I bind you to this body, though it be dead, though it be cold, may it forever hold your soul.” He chanted as he drew symbols from the Book of Doors inside the circle using blood. He moved to Scott’s side then, hoping he managed to catch Panos before he could leave Darren’s broken and dying body.

  “I’m going to be okay, hurts like a son-of-a-gun, but I’ll be fine,” Scott said as he held his leg. “It went through, not bleeding very much.”

  The security guard took the gun from Miranda gently, put it on the nurse’s station and then yanked her hands behind her. “Gotta cuff you two while we wait for the cops,” he said as two more security guards arrived.

  “Never mind that, you git! My friend’s been shot!” Maxwell said. Two of the nurses rushed to Scott’s side, the third looked at what was left of Darren, who was absolutely still on the floor, and turned to the nurse’s station. “Best place to get shot, a hospital. We’ll get you fixed up.”

  Miranda allowed herself to be handcuffed, but when a security guard approached Maxwell from behind, he got a finger pointed at him. “She just saved your mate’s ass over there, and I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Don’t tell them anything, Max,” Miranda said as the security guard turned her towards the elevator. “They won’t believe.”

  “Are you going to come with me quietly, Sir?” asked the tall security guard standing in front of Maxwell. His demeanor was calm, he was just doing his job.

  “Your friend’s going to be okay,” one of the nurses said. “The bullet went straight through, and the bleeding has already stopped.”

  “If you’re taking me where she’s going, then I’m going with you then,” Maxwell said, putting his hands up.

  “We’re all going to the same place,” the guard said as he cuffed Maxwell.

  “What happened?” asked Gladys, shocked.

  “They’re taking your daughter to the station, let her tell you what happened,” Maxwell said, twisting so he could see her and Susan. “Someone has to do a warding on this floor. Panos.”

  “I’m going to be okay!” Scott called up from where he was on the floor with one of the nurses. The other was running off.

  As the next act in the chaos began, with doctors rushing in, nurses helping Scott and what was left of Darren onto gurneys and visiting families coming almost as quickly to find out what had happened.

  XIX

  Maxwell had enough time to go through all the events in that hallway in his head, and came to one conclusion: any honest thing he said could be turned against Miranda. He could leave out all the mystical motivations behind what happened, but that made it look like Miranda shot Darren in the head while he was unarmed. He could say that Darren was about to attack someone again, and Miranda was only preventing that, but there was a guard in the room who saw everything.

  If that guard started talking about being pinned against the wall by an unseen force, Maxwell would back him up, but that would make them both seem crazy. More importantly, it wouldn’t help Miranda. Spiritual possession and mystical forces were not known as good explanations for anything in a court of law.

  The police detective he sat across from in the interview room barely even registered on Maxwell’s senses. He let the questions roll over him as though he were a stone and the detective was a breeze. Nothing he said mattered, no threat or promise he made caused Maxwell to so much as bat an eye. After two hours of questions and attempts to get him to respond to anything, Maxwell calmly put his head down on the table and closed his eyes.

  “Are you all right, sir?” the detective asked.

  “I am medically fit,” Maxwell replied. “You have better things to do.”

  The detective didn’t move for a moment, then he collected his note pad and pen, then quietly left.

  The only thought in Maxwell’s head was that he should have been the one firing the gun. It was his band, they were his friends, and Panos was his enemy. He brought the trouble into being, but Miranda was going to pay for its end.

  By the time he was checked out of the police station, Maxwell was emotionally numb. The only urge he had and followed was to look for Miranda as he was walked out, given everything he came in with, then shown to the door by a lawyer he didn’t know. He couldn’t see her, which wasn’t a surprise, but it was a disappointment.

  He could see Allen on the other side of the doors, and he stopped the lawyer, who was saying; “-but they’re not charging you with anything. It’s obvious the knife you had on you was not used in the assault.”

  “What about Miranda?” Maxwell asked.

  “I don’t think I can discuss her case with you,” the lawyer said.

  Maxwell slowly turned towards the tall, grey haired man, resisting the urge to drag his face down to his level and force him to speak.

  “The news is not good,” the lawyer said quietly. “They have already charged her with first degree murder, it’s the fastest I’ve ever seen someone charged with a crime that severe in this province.”

  “Bail?”

  “Listen, I understand what happened in the hospital, I was at your initiation, I’m here because I’m good and I’m one of you, but I have to present the defense on what I can prove, on what a jury might believe. She is in a very tight spot, Max.”

  “Will she be able to get out on bail?”

  “No,” the lawyer replied. “She is a Canadian citizen, so she won’t be extradited, but she just arrived in the country after a long absence, and has ties internationally. I’m going to fight for her to get out on bail, but I don’t know of a judge who would g
rant it.”

  “So, she’s going to go to jail for twenty-five years,” Maxwell said, having difficulty finding the air in his lungs to finish the statement.

  “I’m going to do everything in my power to get this down to second degree,” the lawyer said. “I’ll make it happen, Max.”

  Maxwell pushed through the doors and nodded at Allen. Bernie was waiting in a black four door Chevy Nova. It looked new, he knew it was the car they were setting him up with to take the Dawn Shard on the road.

  “Bernie’s all packed, he’s going to take the shard.”

  Maxwell began shaking his head before he reached the sidewalk and didn’t stop until all three of them were in the car. “You’re not taking the shard, you’re not going anywhere, Bernie.” He said firmly. “You’re going to stay home, you’re going to guard the book, and you’re going to read that fucking thing over and over again.”

  “Are you crazy?” Allen said.

  “Panos made a mess of things,” Maxwell told Allen, who was in the back seat. “He opened doors he’ll never get a chance to close, and I trapped his spirit in Darren’s corpse, and I’m sure Darren didn’t get a chance to get out. I can’t be the only person we know who understands what’s in that book, especially since I’m going to take that shard down the road and maybe never find more than three days peace at a time.”

  “You’re going to be needed here, Max,” Bernie said.

  “For what? To watch her go to jail for ten, twenty, twenty-five years because I dragged her into my bullshit? Bloody hell, I love that girl like I’ve never, and the best thing I can do for her is get as far away as I can, take my fucking trouble and artifacts with me.”

  “She’s going to want to see you, even if it is just visiting,” Bernie said. “Miranda is going to need you.”

  “Would you listen?” Maxwell asked, and was about to launch into another list of reasons, when Bernie’s father interrupted him.

  “Max is right,” Allen said. “We’ll go to the crossroads. You’ll go on to the house in another car, get his bags together. We’ll take care of her Max. Just remember, you may have brought this trouble here, but Miranda and all your friends, everyone who loves you would have rather you did. This is the kind of trouble that would have killed you if you faced it alone, so, even though it looks like it couldn’t have been worse, I’m glad you brought it home. This is a better outcome in the end, we get a chance to take control of it.”