by Stefan Lear
“I never did get your name,” Paul inquired.
“Magnus is the name.”
“I thought you had called me Magnus the day we met,” Paul stated quizzically.
“No, I asked a question. ‘Are you sure you don’t have any cash, Mr. Magnus?’ That was what I said. It was a way to get that coin in your hand.”
“Why did you hand me that coin? I tried to look it up, but it’s not listed anywhere. I couldn’t find a record of it anywhere.”
“Where it came from isn’t as important as what it does. That coin, Paul, allows me to locate you at any time and will alert me if you’re in danger. Think of it as one of the first GPS devices.”
“Magic, my boy, magic. Haven’t you been paying attention,” Magnus asked in a slightly exasperated tone. “The last few days of your life have all revolved around magic and events influenced by magic.”
“Yeah, it’s been crazy. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Paul exclaimed, chuckling. “I’ve never believed in magic. At least not outside of a Vegas performance, and those are just elaborate illusions.”
“Don’t be so quick to judge. Not all magicians are illusionists, and not all illusions are born of magic. But there are some that are.”
Paul’s eyes lit up. “Do you mean that those illusionists know magic?”
“Not all do, but some. You’d be surprised.”
“Really? Which ones?”
“Actually one of the most famous is fairly skilled in the magical arts. You know him as Chris Angel. He’s a crazy ass dude, but knows his arts well,” said Magnus. “He’s talented enough to hide the fact that he uses real magic. That’s the real illusion.”
Paul thought about all the shows he had watched Chris Angel perform. It was wild thinking that he could control magic.
“Now, hold out your hand.”
Paul held his hand out and Magnus dropped a vial into it.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a vial obviously. What’s inside the vial is the true question. Drink it.”
Paul looked at the vial and looked up at Magnus suspiciously. “What is it?”
“A potion to help your ribs mend. You need to get back up to speed physically as quickly as possible and this will help you. Now drink up.”
Paul uncorked the small brown vial and smelled the contents. He wrinkled his nose. “It smells like the ass of a skunk.”
“Drink,” Magnus replied a little more sternly.
Paul put the vial to his mouth and turned it up. The taste was more vile than the smell and he nearly gagged. He forced himself to swallow the potion and handed the vial back to Magnus. The taste caused him to cough. His body didn’t want to cooperate and he forced the liquid down his throat. A slimy sensation covered the inside of his throat.
“Ugh. That’s disgusting.”
“What did you expect,” Magnus asked. “A spoonful of sugar to make the medicine go down?”
“No, but that would have been nice,” Paul replied.
“Now it’s time for you to learn a couple of things. Are you up to it?”
“You’re going to teach me magic?” Paul became excited despite the nasty taste coating his mouth.
“Some, yes. Enough to keep you out of dangerous situations. And away from dangerous people.”
“Nice. But, uhh, what do you mean dangerous people? I know how to spot dangerous folk.”
Magnus shot him a hard, brief stare. “The definition of what you call dangerous and what is detrimental to your physical well being are two different things. I’m going to teach you how to see that difference.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will. Now pay attention.”
Paul was anxious to learn, so he sat up as straight as he could manage with his ribs in the condition they were in. Surprised, he could sit straighter than he could that morning, and the pain in his side had lessened, too,
“In the magical realm it’s possible to influence the physical realm. We’ve already established that from experience. But in order to influence people with the least amount of effort, the person being influenced must have a certain mentality, a certain mindset. What you call “evil” is attracted to people that have this certain mindset. Ever hear the saying “their mind was so open that it fell out.”?
“Yeah, I’ve heard it. I think it’s degrading to say about someone, though.”
“Maybe it is, but evil looks for people like that. They are the easiest to influence, to control. And the whole time the person never has a clue that they are being influenced.”
“So you’re saying that if I have an open mind, am open to new experiences, that I’m easy to influence?” Paul was indignant and slightly offended.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. You can get all huffed up, but we have to know the rules of the game before we can play it. There are always exceptions to the rule, though.”
“What do you mean?” Paul asked.
“It comes down to this. If you don’t believe one hundred percent in what you preach, you’re living a lie. If you’re running around dressed like a hipster society dropout, but working on the next dot com boom, you’re living a lie. The two are in direct conflict with each other.”
“It’s not a lie. Those people are trying to do something positive. Just because they don’t want to liven poverty is no reason to harsh on them,” Paul stated definitively.
“Look. “Today, I saw a thirty year old, parentally enabled Logan long-boarding to yoga class dressed like Stan Laurel. I wanted to put on brass knuckles, fire my self out of a cannon and shatter every bone in his pubic bearded face. The very definition of hipster is a person who supports fringe and emerging artistic movements. At their birth in the forties, hipsters came out of the black community and the movement flourished among whites who supported the Civil Rights movement. For someone to want to live like Elon Musk but preach that civilization is killing the spirit of man and earth is the very epitome of hypocrisy. And it’s that very hypocrisy that draws evil to them.”
Somewhere a light switched on in Paul’s brain. “So your telling me that if the actions of a person don’t match what they’re saying, they become a target.”
“That’s part of it. Another part is the hypocrisy of their very life choices. Hypocrisy degrades the soul in small doses, but over time leaves a distinct feel that can be detected by creatures not of this world. But there are members of the hipster movement that live what they preach and they are much harder to influence.”
“That’s a little clearer when you put it like that.”
“I’m just using today’s hipsters as an example. The same thing applies to the preacher that has a private jet, or almost every damn politician in the country. It can all be summed up in one word. Integrity. The less you have the easier of a target you become.”
“That makes more sense,” Paul said.
“What’s important in that you be able to discern who the magnets are and who is not. The more time you spend among the magnets, the more likely you are to be attacked. Or worse yet, recognized as a magic user. So that’s what you learn first. How to stay safe when you’re interacting with society.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Let’s get started then.
Chapter 8
Now that Magnus had taught him to see evil he decided to test his skills. Tonight his ribs felt well enough to walk around and do some investigation work. He wanted to see if he could pick up the trail of the barghest and track it. So far the beast had only attacked the homeless and people that were alone or solitary.
It probably wasn’t the brightest idea he’d had this year but he was anxious to see this if he could use his new ability without the help of Magnus. Paul had earlier decided his safest bet was to stay near the river. If he got in trouble he could always jump in the river and risk drowning. It was better than being tortured and gutted open by a barghest.
He started directly under the Broadway Bridge. There were always home
less people down there. The barghest might make an appearance since it was fairly secluded. He realized that if the barghest did attack someone, he could do absolutely nothing to help that person without getting attacked himself.
Paul moved away from his chosen spot and tried to blend in with the surrounding landscape. He had considered climbing a tree to watch, but decided against it. He had no doubt the beast could climb into the tree as well as he could, and could jump down even faster. So he stayed on the ground and tried to blend in.
He watched a couple of junkies lean up against one the support columns and break out their kit. After a few minutes of prep and a moment of heating their spoon, their spike was jabbing into the skin. As they leaned back and nodded, he could only assume they had reached whatever nirvana the drug offered them in exchange for the grimy reality of their current situation. A few moments later a pair of homeless walked by, drunk from whatever alcohol they had consumed.
This was a perfect place for the barghest to appear at. It had everything the beast could want. Paul called up the power Magnus had taught him to use. Sure enough, the area around the junkies was infused with swirls of silver. All he had to do was wait for a blackish-red to mix with the silver and he would be able to watch the barghest as it hunted. He wanted to find a pattern to how the barghest targeted his prey. Currently all he knew was that it hunted at night in areas filled with the desolate dregs of humanity. There had to be more to its patterns.
“There you are, beasty.” A small thread of dark red had creeped into the area. He had almost been ready to give up for the night. The barghest was near and closing in. The red became more prominent and began darkening in color, weaving its way through the silver, dominating it as it gained prominence.
A small fear creeped into his mind. Could the barghest smell him, remember his smell from the night it had attacked Marie and him? He hoped not. If the beast knew he was here it would come for him. He hunched as far down behind the boulder set in the ground as he could and still be able to glance at the scene. He was courting Fate, tempting Death, and he knew it. He was aware of it in an almost violent way at the moment.
Hunched down and partially hidden was as secure he could be right now. He needed to know as much possible about this enemy.
The dark crimson had almost obliterated the silver, and sure enough there it was. Paul could only see a shimmer of the beast, but it’s eyes shimmered like dying embers in a forge. It walked toward the two unconscious junkies and sniffed them from a small distance. It lowered its head and walked toward the men laying unconscious on the ground. It sniffed them, then raised it’s head. The barghest didn’t seem to be interested in them at all.
The barghest turned its head in his direction, took steps toward him and sniffed the air. “Shit. SHIT!” It had caught his scent. Paul didn’t know if it were the scent of his body or whether the beast could smell the magic he was using. It didn’t matter. The beast was advancing toward him.
Paul could feel the fight or flight instinct creeping up inside him. He reached into his pocket and rubbed furiously on the coin Magnus had given him. In a burst of muddled swirling blue light he was gone. He was in Magnus’s study now, and Magnus seemed none too happy.
For a moment Magnus stared sternly at him. He looked like the headmaster at a prep school ready to mete out punishment to his problem child of the year.
Anger replaced sternness and Magnus yelled “What the hell are you doing? That’s the second time the barghest has seem you, but this time he knows you have magic abilities. Now he knows your scent. He had time to track you, to familiarize your scent. You can’t go outside at night at all now. If you do, you’ll die.”
Paul stood there sheepishly. He was embarrassed like a school kid that had been embarrassed by his favorite teacher.
“Do you understand?” Magnus asked him. “Do you? Magnus yelled.
“Yes. I understand. I just wanted...”
Magnus cut him off “Wanted to what? Die? Is that it? Huh?”
“No. I wanted to study him, that’s all.”
“That’s like an ant saying he’s curious about the anteater and wants to study him. You get the same result. You die.” Magnus’s cheeks were crimson red from anger and frustration. “I’m trying to keep you alive, doing my best, and all you know to do is run into the arms of the enemy. You’re making my job fuckin’ impossible.” Magnus ran his fingers through his black curly hair and exhaled deeply.
Chapter 9
Paul waited for Magnus to calm down. He knew he had screwed up, and Magnus wasn’t shy about letting him know it either.
“Look, I just wanted to see if there was a pattern to the barghest’s kills,” Paul explained to Magnus. “It’s always better to know as much about your enemy before going into war isn’t it?”
“Going to war?” Is that what you thought you’re doing?” Magnus laughed in contempt. “Look, Paul, I’m won’t bullshit with you. I was sent her to look after you and train you because it came to someone’s attention that you were in danger. The enemy had finally found you. All those slaughters that happened recently? Those were just to make you curious and flush you out. That’s all they were. Your little girlfriend Marie? She was tore to pieces for one thing and one thing only. To scare you, to make you afraid, so that when it came time and you were offered a choice, you would gladly join the enemy rather than die. That’s how they work, it’s how they recruit new members.”
“Wait, wait. Slow down. Why would they want to recruit me? There’s nothing special about me.”
“Oh, I’m starting to believe that statement. You’re stubborn and self-willed in the extreme. You have no way to fight what’s after you or what’s coming if the barghest is successful. Your pitiful, ignorant man.” Magnus exhaled the disgust he felt with Paul right now.
In spite of his dislike of being called ignorant, he knew it was true. Paul knew nothing of this new world he had been thrust into. “So teach me. Show me how to defend myself, how to win against the barghest, how to do more than just hide in some secret room where I can’t be found.”
“You really think you can handle it? You can’t even stay in your apartment when asked to.” Paul’s eyes gave away his guilty plea. “You didn’t think I was keeping tabs on your every move? If a friend of mine hadn’t asked this favor of me, I wouldn’t give a damn about your fate. But my friend once gave up everything, his whole world, to save the world you live in. That’s why I’m here.”
“Does that mean that you’re going to teach me how to use magic to defend myself, then?”
Magnus let out a long slow breath and looked at the floor.
“It does, doesn’t it? You’re gonna teach me magic,” Paul said elatedly as he contained his smile.
Magnus looked up at Paul. “I guess I have no choice now.”
Paul broke out into a stupid-grin.
“First, there’s something I have to do,” Magnus said. Two seconds later he hit Paul directly on the crown of his chin as hard as he could. Paul crumpled to the floor. “Sorry about that.”
Magnus took the vial out of his pocket, opened Paul’s mouth and poured the liquid down his throat. “This is gonna hurt you a lot more than it hurts me. See ya when you wake up.”
PAUL WOKE UP WITH A pounding head and a bruised jaw. He was in a strange place he had never been to. He was in a strange jungle area. All the plants had hues that looked slightly off. There was blue running through the veins of of some of the leaves while others had hues of a golden yellow spots on them. The ground was firm beneath him, yet it was soft like a sponge. It was cool and humid. He imagined that Florida air felt like this in the winter months. He definitely wasn’t in Florida though.
Magnus strode out from a thicket of brush and walked toward him. “No questions right now. I need to explains that what you believe isn’t consistent with reality and that most of what you consider fact is nothing more than a fiction crafted to keep you safe from the stark realities and lies of the magic world. This
is where your training begins, Paul. This is where I teach you to use your wits and your will to not only survive but to dominate those that would come against you. This will be neither easy nor light on you. I will give you no quarter and I expect you to not give any. Is that clear, Paul?”
“Yes, clear. But why did you cold cock me? And where are we?”
“That was your first lesson. Never let your guard down, not even to someone you think you can trust. Only you can guard your well being. As far as where we are, we are at your first day of training. Now defend yourself,” Magnus told Paul and swung at his jaw a second time.
Chapter 10
Magnus and Paul stepped from the portal onto the walkway at the riverwalk. They were within feet of where Marie had first been attacked, the night that had changed Paul’s life forever. Paul turned around and closed the portal.
“Well, now what do we do? Wait for the barghest to arrive, or do we hunt it down?” Paul inquired.
“No, we’re not going to hunt it down. If it comes for you, this time you can at least defend yourself.”
“It’’s still not winter here?”
“Time flows differently where we were. It seems to flow faster, but it’s actually going faster. That’s why two years there is only a month or two here,” Magnus explained.
“Interesting,” Paul said. The air had begun filling with dark red tendrils, trying to swirl around him. “Here it comes. The barghest is near.”
“I see it,” Magnus replied. “Stay sharp. This is your first real test of your training.”
“You mean you weren’t my first test?”
“I went easy on you.”
“Is that what they call it when you’re sweating enough to water the Golan Heights? Good to know.”
“Shut up and concentrate before you get ambushed, Paul.”
Paul smiled. He knew Magnus was right, but he wouldn’t admit it.
