The Cult of Osiris: Book 2 in the Cedarstone Chronicles

by Sean Stone

  “What’s the situation?” Phil asked. Adam explained what had happened and Phil said he’d join them on the rescue mission.

  “Maybe one of us should go to the house, to find clues?” Jamal suggested.

  “Are you scared Constable Rasul?” Genevieve asked coldly. Adam guessed she didn’t like him. There were few people she did seem to like.

  “No, I just don’t want to miss anything,” Jamal replied, but he looked worried about something.

  “We haven’t. I searched the house myself,” she said. “They’re in Riverside,” she added, as her tracking spell reached its conclusion.

  “Let’s move out,” Phil said and they all left the museum. Adam was not going to lose another coven member.

  *

  Elizabeth Laurent was another sorcerer whom James knew nothing about. There was a time — not long ago — when he’d had access to files of almost every supernatural person in town. Since the sorcerers had returned to Cedarstone, that was no longer the case. There was now an entire coven and he could probably only name one member.

  Elizabeth was younger than Holly, she was about the same age as Clara, maybe younger. The look of terror in her eyes was so much worse than Holly’s. Holly had been angrier, whereas Elizabeth was utterly petrified, and with good reason. She was too afraid to speak which James was glad of. Kristen had made James light his own fire this time and he’d managed it on his second attempt. He’d even managed it without using vocalisation. She seemed impressed by that. She’d chosen a field by the river to perform the ritual. It was a nice area, green grass, plenty of trees that sheltered them from the eyes of the public. Of course, anybody could stumble upon them and Kristen hadn’t bothered to put up any magical defences. If anyone happened upon them she’d just kill them. Once again James asked himself what he’d got into and once again he assured himself that it was a means to an end. Was the end really worth the means? Would Dean really forgive him, especially after James had finished murdering people to reach his goal? Each murder potentially widened the gap between father and son. Of course, Dean didn’t need to know about everything he’d done. James planned on leaving Cedarstone and never returning, so Dean should never hear the truth.

  “In your own time,” Kristen said, prompting him to get on with it.

  He took the knife out, the same one he’d used last time, and started heating its blade in the flames. Elizabeth whimpered when she saw what he was doing. He looked down at her, tied and gagged on the ground and then immediately wished he hadn’t. The look in her eyes filled him with a guilt so strong he’d rather stab himself than her.

  “What does this do?” he asked, trying to take his mind off the girl and what he was going to do to her.

  “The heating?” Kristen asked. “Part of the ritual. Fire purifies the blade so the magic can flow through it unimpeded.”

  “I thought the magic flowed through my bracelet?” James asked.

  “It flows into the bracelet. The bracelet just harbours the power. I’ve told you that before,” she said irritably.

  “So I don’t need to use the same knife every time?”

  “No, any will do. Are we going to repeat everything I’ve taught you?” she asked.

  “Sorry I’m just an eager student,” he said with some of his old wit. He hadn’t felt much like himself lately. “Like to make sure I’ve got my facts right,” he said and flashed her a smile.

  “Sarcasm. At least you’re not being a little girl anymore,” she replied and threw him a smile of her own.

  James knelt down beside the girl. It helped to think of her as “the girl” rather than giving her a name. People with names were harder to kill. He could feel his heart speeding up, getting ready for what was about to come. As he reached out he noticed his arm shaking ever so slightly. But it wasn’t from fear — it was excitement. The old signs of addiction were returning. Hopefully, this would be the last sacrifice he’d have to perform. Something inside him said that it wasn’t. Something inside him hoped that it wasn’t.

  “I want you to know this is nothing personal,” he told Elizabeth. “You were just the closest sorcerer to us at the time, and the easiest to take.” Although getting her out of the house hadn’t been easy. The house had a spell stopping the girl from leaving it which Kristen had to break before they could take her.

  James touched the blade to her chest and readied himself. Just a small amount of pressure and-

  “NO!” Someone screamed and the knife flew out of his hand and landed on the grass with a small thud.

  Looking over he saw an old woman come striding onto the field. Behind her were several other sorcerers — he assumed they were anyway — one of whom was Adam Kent. With them was Phil Gatling, the sergeant of SIT, Jamal Rasul and Clara Winters. Something reacted inside him at the sight of Clara but he wasn’t sure what it was. A stirring of his old feelings? Or simple recognition? Then he realised, it was fear. She undoubtedly knew what he had done to her family and he knew that she hated him for it. Who wouldn’t?

  “Pick up the knife,” Kristen instructed him quietly. She muttered something under her breath and flicked her wrist upward. A green spark flew up and disappeared into the sky. James wasn’t sure if the newcomers had noticed and he didn’t have time to try and figure it out. He scrambled for the knife and then followed Kristen to meet them in the middle of the field.

  “How dare you touch my daughter,” the old woman seethed. She moved to pass them but Kristen stepped into her path.

  “Let’s not,” Kristen warned her, one eyebrow raised. James didn’t doubt that Kristen was powerful, being a member of the Thirteen she had to be, but they were outnumbered but about ten. They couldn’t win.

  “James?” Clara said, her eyes nearly fell out of their sockets.

  “We thought you were dead. But I’m not surprised to see you here, on the wrong side as usual,” Phil said. He looked at James like he was dirt, James had grown accustomed to that look.

  “Until recently we were on the same side. Now I’m on the winning one,” James replied trying to use cockiness to mask his fear.

  “The odds don’t favour you. Fifteen of us, two of you,” Jamal said pointedly. James didn’t know how to react to Jamal so opted to ignore him. What would Jamal do if it came to a fight; betray his cover or his friends?

  “I could turn you lot inside out without breaking a sweat,” Kristen replied confidently.

  “Well, give us the girl and nobody need be turned inside out at all,” Phil said, trying to assert some authority.

  “Who brings a human to a witch fight?” Kristen asked, looking around at their opponents.

  “You’re no witch, warlock,” Adam spat and several of the sorcerers agreed with him. “Give us Elizabeth. You can’t win.”

  “I beg to differ,” Kristen said. James did not share her confidence and was already searching about for a way to escape. If he could get across the river then he might be able to get away. If only he knew how to teleport the way the other disciples could.

  “Enough of this,” Elizabeth’s mother said.

  “Genevieve, no!” Adam shouted but it was too late.

  Genevieve swept her arm to the left and Kristen was thrown down onto the grass. Genevieve moved towards Elizabeth and James quickly stood in her way.

  “Get out my way, runt, or I’ll do worse to you,” she threatened.

  “And what will you do to me?” A male voice asked. Next thing James knew Julian was by hiss side, he hadn’t heard him arrive. Several cracks indicated the arrival of the other disciples. Everyone was there except Lucian and Nick. James looked over at SIT and the coven and their fear was written in bold. The tables had turned severely. Clara seemed to look disappointed, but by what James had no clue. Jamal looked more worried than anyone and James understood why.

  “Has that knife been prepared?” Julian asked, nodding at the knife in James’ hand.

  “Yes,” James said, looking down at it as well.

  “Good.
Kill as many as you can. You’ll harness their power so long as you use the knife,” Julian informed him and then the fighting began.

  James didn’t see who moved first all he knew was that the area exploded with noise and flashed with light. People were being thrown about all around him. It was utter bedlam. In that one moment, James understood why Jonathan had wanted to maintain control over the supernatural. Left to their own devices they were a danger not just to themselves but everyone else around them. James looked back at the river. He could still try to escape, nobody would notice, they were all too busy fighting. But if he left he wouldn’t be able to return to Nick and he would never get his cure. He had to fight. He looked about and his eyes settled on a short man who looked like he’d done a shit in his pants. James didn’t think. He ran forward and before the man even saw him the knife had found a home in his heart. The wind around James picked up and he felt the power surge into him like a great stormy river. Once the feeling subsided he turned, already looking for his next victim.

  After he’d kill his third sorcerer the power was circulating him, making him feel like his blood was on fire and moving at super speed. It felt as though the feeling would never expire. It felt like he would never expire. He was invincible. Nothing could stop him. Nothing could hurt him. Then, as if to prove him wrong, something hit him on the side of the head and he landed face down in the dirt. His temple throbbed from the blow. He rolled onto his back and saw Clara advancing on him. The angelic face of Arthur Winters’ daughter was one of demonic rage.

  “You fucking piece of scum,” she screamed. On impulse, he launched the knife at her but she waved her hand and muttered something in a strange language and it flew off to the side. Jamal’s lessons seemed to be working. “You pretended to be my friend. You spent all those years trying to get me to go out with you, and all the while you were hiding the fact that you killed my granddad. That you were more than willing to kill me if you were told to. She slapped the air, muttering something again, and he felt the slap on his cheek. It was hard enough to spin his head round and leave a burning sensation, but the buzz he was feeling from the power surges quickly eradicated the pain.

  “I wouldn’t have killed you,” he called up to her. “Jonathan told me to kill you but I didn’t!”

  “Should I be thankful?” she demanded.

  He tried to get up but she uttered another strange word and he fell back down again. He tried to clear his mind, to conjure up a spell of his own to break her hold on him.

  “I’m going to kill you,” she said. She thrust forward with her arm. Nothing happened. She thrust again. Still nothing. Her face changed from determined to frustrated and then to worry. Apparently she wasn’t quite as in control as he’d thought. James stared right at her and thought of the effect he wanted to project. Clara clutched her stomach and screamed in agony. He held out his right hand and concentrated. The knife soared through the air and landed in his palm.

  “Well, in that case, I probably should kill you,” he said and then jumped up, lunging for her. He pushed forward with the knife and he felt her flesh tear as the blade sunk in. He readied himself for the surge that he’d come to love so much. But Jamal got there first. He grabbed hold of James’ arm and tore it from the knife’s hilt. As James fell back Jamal pointed a finger at him and he was propelled up into the air and over the crowd of fighting sorcerers, the air driven from his lungs. He saw Clara’s face, a picture of perfect confusion right before she collapsed, the knife still sticking out of her belly. Then he came down again. He landed with a heavy splash in the river and plunged down into its murky depths. Weeds tangled around his ankles and he kicked out, trying to force them off. For a second it looked as though there was a pair of yellow eyes watching him from the river bed, but when he looked again they were gone. He broke the surface of the water and took in a huge breath. As he crawled up onto the riverbank, soaking wet he saw that the fighting was still going on although now there were several casualties, most of them the coven’s. Lightening cut the clear blue sky and thunder roared directly overhead. Dark grey clouds were gathering fast, blocking the sun.

  “What’s happening?” James shouted to anyone who could hear him as he re-joined the group. Everybody had stopped fighting and was watching the sky now with wonder. Some were looking around trying to discern who amongst them was causing the freak change in the weather.

  “Nick’s coming to join us!” Kristen yelled back, her voice full of glee. “He likes the theatrics!”

  The sorcerers heard her words and reacted. Those that could still stand ran off back the way they’d come from. Jamal, who was still tending to Clara, wrapped her bleeding body in his arms and vanished into thin air. Genevieve grabbed her daughter, who was no longer tied up and dragged her off towards the trees. Adam looked about, seemingly contemplating staying and then thought better of it and followed his fleeing coven, leaving the casualties behind. Jamal suddenly reappeared, picked up an unrecognisable person, whoever it was looked like they’d been barbecued and was probably not alive, and then vanished once again. The rest of the sorcerers were either dead or two injured to move. One tried to crawl away but Julian kicked him in the head, rendering him unconscious.

  Another fork of lightning lit up the sky and when the thunder rang out Nick appeared standing in the middle of them all. He surveyed the remnants of the battle and gave a small smirk.

  “My, my, what a spectacle it must have been. A shame I got here so late,” he said. The only disciple who’d been badly injured was Peter who was unconscious on the grass, but it didn’t look like he’d sustained any lasting damage. A couple of the others were bleeding in places, but it wasn’t anything serious.

  “What happened to you?” Kristen demanded as she walked over to James.

  “Jamal, I attacked Clara and he stopped me,” James replied, shrugging his shoulders.

  “I suspect he’s grown rather fond of her,” Nick mused as he picked up James’ knife from the floor where Clara had been lying. “Also, I told him to keep her alive.”

  “Why?” James asked. Why would Nick want the woman who was hell-bent on killing him kept alive? Jonathan would have killed her from the off and had done with her.

  “My reasons are my own,” Nick replied. “How many of these are still alive?” he asked the group.

  “Four,” Julian reported.

  “Not for long.” Nick looked at James and smiled. “Kill them,” he instructed and handed him the knife.

  James didn’t need to be told twice, he was already itching for another fix. Three minutes later he stabbed his final victim and the surge was incredible. It filled him almost to bursting point. It felt like he was flying, and he’d very recently found out what that felt like curtesy of Jamal. The power raced through him, firing up every neuron in his system. He opened his mouth as wide as he could and screamed so loud that he could have rivalled the thunder that Nick had ridden on.

  “Feels good doesn’t it?” Nick asked. He was smiling, almost with a father’s pride.

  “Better than ecstasy, and believe me I know,” James panted. He wanted more, he needed more. The bracelet was red hot on his wrist, but it felt good, it felt fantastic. When he looked down he saw that it was glowing.

  “I had my doubts about you, James, but I think you’re going to fit in here better than I ever imagined,” Nick said and in that moment James agreed. The power blasting through him had erased any thoughts of reuniting with his son. He longer had any notions about leaving town. He’d discovered his calling in life at long last and it was at Nick’s side. He was a disciple. He was one of the Thirteen.

  *

  “What a fucking disaster!” Adam cried and kicked the bin across the museum floor. It was the first place they’d thought of to go. Luckily the museum was closed so nobody had seen the blood covered group parading through the exhibition rooms. He looked around at the few of them who had survived. There was Toni, Laurie, Genevieve and Elizabeth. The only consolation he had was that t
hey’d achieved their goal and saved Elizabeth, but at the cost of many others.

  “It could have been worse,” Toni said, but there was no conviction in her voice. She was staring at the wall vacantly, clearly still shaken.

  “Eight people are dead. Eight of our people, how could it be worse?” Adam asked, rounding on her.

  “We could be dead too,” said Toni, snapping out of her state.

  Adam fell into a chair and held his head in his hands whilst he leaned on the table in front of him. Toni was right, it could be worse, but that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He didn’t know what he did want to hear, but it wasn’t that.

  “What was I thinking?” he asked, laughing humourlessly. “Going up against the Thirteen. It was stupid. I got almost all the people I took with me killed. What kind of an idiot does that?”

  “Now is not the time for self-pity,” Genevieve said quietly. As usual, she sounded disgusted.

  “I’ve got nothing else to do. I’ve failed as dynast. I’m done,” he said resignedly.

  “No, you’re not,” Genevieve said sternly. She crossed the room and slapped him hard across the face.

  He stared stupidly up at her, his cheek throbbing from the pain. He tried to speak but couldn’t find the words. He was aware of Toni coming to stand behind him but she made no move to come any closer than that.

  “I dislike you, Adam. I dislike you very much,” Genevieve said. Then she exhaled a deep breath. “However, today you saved my daughter. If it wasn’t for you rallying some of the coven together then Elizabeth would be dead right now, and as I am linked to her I might also be dead. At the very least I would be powerless. As I said, I don’t like you, not at all. But I respect you now and I think that as a dynast you are… acceptable.”