by Sean Stone
“Why do you think that?” My own voice was little more than a whisper. He wasn’t allowed to die and that was that.
“I just feel like my life is fading away.”
“Leave it with me, mate. I’ll have something soon.” I hung up without saying goodbye. I was too scared it would be the last one. I carried on walking home, wondering how I was supposed to cure two unknown deadly illnesses. I was certain that I only had a few hours before it would be too late.
Most of my magical stuff is kept at my storage unit but the absolute best stuff is in a special box under my bed. It was the best stuff I needed now. Ingredients that could cure most things. I was going to have to create a potion using all the best stuff and just hope it worked. I used this stuff very rarely; after all it was not easy to come by. But this was one of those rare justified occasions.
I walked through the front door and was greeted by Gavin sitting on the sofa on top of two large yellow rubber rings. One of them was in the style of a rubber duck. The image didn’t surprise me in the least. Not too long ago I’d witnessed him having his anus examined by his mother in this very room. I doubt I’d ever be surprised by him again.
“Two rings?” I asked. I don’t know why I bothered speaking to him. It’s not like I had time to kill. Or like I was even interested.
“My arse really hurts, Eddie. Doctor said I had the worst piles he’d ever seen.” I couldn’t believe that he was almost crying. Four people were dying and one had been bitten by a wendigo and this guy was on the verge of tears over a bit of arse pain.
“Poor you,” I said off-handedly and headed for the stairs.
“I know,” he moaned, failing to detect the sarcasm. “Honestly, I’d sell the devil my soul to get rid of these piles. Hell, I’d even handfeed it to him.”
I stopped dead as something clicked. “What did you say?” I turned back to him.
“I’d feed the devil my soul?” he said slowly. Skeptically.
“You bloody fucking genius!” I never thought I would ever say that to Gavin but thanks to what he’d said I’d figured out what was wrong with Matt and Emma and I had a hunch what was happening to Margie and… I realised then that I didn’t know her husband’s name. But I thought I knew what was wrong with him and that was the main thing.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I rushed out without another word. There was no time to lose! Well, there might have been some time to lose, I’m not really sure. I didn’t want to risk it, though. I didn’t bother with the ingredients for a potion, if my hunch was right then I wouldn’t be needing it.
When I watch American television a person hurrying can literally run out into the street and hail a cab with ease. That is not the case in England. Maybe it is in London, I’m not too sure, I don’t live in London. So with my revelation in mind I hurried down the road and to the nearest taxi office. They didn’t have any available taxis so I ended up walking to Matt’s. Luckily, he wasn’t dead when I arrived. But, he wasn’t far off. Emma answered the door and she looked pretty much the same as Matt had looked last time I saw him. Pale, thin face, bags under the eyes, vacant expression.
“I’m here to save the day!” I announced as I barged past her. I was doing a lot of barging lately. I had to move quickly to stop her from falling over. I saw Matt when I helped her to the sofa. He was laying across the other sofa staring absently up at the ceiling.
“He hasn’t spoke for a while now,” Emma said in a slow expressionless voice. “Did you bring the potion?”
“Won’t be needing one. Did your good luck start before or after you moved here?”
She took a moment to think it over. “After. Right after. Matt first, then I got sick too.” The order wasn’t really important, it only mattered when it started and as I suspected the luck came with the house. Or rather what was in the house.
“And did you get sick before or after your luck turned bad?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Same time,” Matt groaned. I looked down at him but he hadn’t moved. He was in the same lifeless position staring up at the ceiling. I looked up but there wasn’t anything there worth seeing. Just crumbling paint. There were better things to stare at. I suppose there were worse things too. I once saw an obese man having a shit. Don’t ask why because frankly I don’t want to relive it. You’ve already made me recall the episode so thanks for that.
“Well, the good news is you’re not dying. The bad news is it’s worse. You two have fallen victim to an aitvaras. A creature that I’m guessing was already in the house when you moved in. First it brings good luck and then bad luck, and with the bad luck comes the price. The price being your souls. It is quite literally eating your souls.”
“We didn’t agree to that,” Emma protested feebly.
“It’s not the devil. It doesn’t need a contract. It gave the good luck whether you wanted it or not and now it’s taking its fee.” By the way as far as I know there is no devil who goes around exchanging contracts from souls.
“What happens if it eats our souls?” she asked.
I grimaced. “You basically turn into zombies. But that’s not going to happen. I’m going to destroy it.” I walked through to the kitchen and started rummaging around. “I need like a big cooking pot,” I called to Emma.
“Cupboard left of the cooker,” she mumbled back.
I opened the cupboard and saw a giant metal pot, probably for stews. It was large enough to fit two cats in it. “There we go,” I said as I took it out. I filled it with water, popped it on the largest hob and then flicked it to full power. I turned around and my gaze fell on the wonky old shed in the garden.
“Have you ever been in your shed?” I asked.
“Only the day we moved in.” Coincidence? I think not.
I headed out into the garden and approached the shed. The aitvaras is known for liking places like barns and sheds. In the old stories it was often found hiding in a farm barn or somewhere similar. I was certain it was in the shed. I’d even put money on it but since everyone was dying, or more or less, there was nobody to bet against. In order to open the door I had to straighten the shed out. That meant pushing into an upright position with one hand and pulling open the door with the other. I used a little magic to keep the ramshackle building from slanting and I went inside. It was a fairly spacious shed. I saw right away why they hadn’t been back since moving in. Spiders had claimed the place as their own. Barely a millimetre of the ceiling didn’t have a spider’s web dangling from it. It was impossible to count all the spiders sitting above me. Matt and Emma both have a horrible phobia of spiders. Matt was once late for work because a spider was dangling over his front door and he was too frightened to pass it. I’m not too fond of spiders but they don’t scare me. Much. As long as I know where they are we don’t have a problem. If they start creeping around then they die. These spiders, I was very happy to see. They meant I was right. Spiders are for some reason drawn to the aitvaras. I don’t know why. I’m not an expert, I’ve only ever seen one aitvaras and that was in Rachel’s collection. She was the one who’d taught me all about it. She used to send me and Cameron to clean out the spiders every week. A day or two later new spiders came. Rachel still insisted on having them cleared out all the same.
I started searching the shed. It was cluttered with boxes and garden tools as you’d expect a shed to be. It made it harder to look around. Still, the task didn’t take long. After about five minutes I found the aitvaras. It had built itself a nest of ripped up cardboard under the workbench at the far end of the shed. It was not a handsome thing. It was about the size of a cat. It had a small, perfectly round torso which was very bulbous from the souls it had been consuming. Its skin was a horrid goblin green colour and it was covered in warts. Its legs were short and stubbly like a baby’s and its arms were the same. Its head was the most intriguing because it did not match its body in the slightest. It had the head of a black cockerel, complete with feath
ers. Its beady black eyes bore into mine. It was not happy at being found. I didn’t care. I wasn’t happy about it eating my friends’ souls. I don’t think it cared. I reached out for it and that’s when it let out a shrill cry. It was like a cross between a cockerel crowing and cow mooing. Weird, I know. Also not easy on the ears. I recoiled from it in a mix of emotions; shock, disgust and even a little fear. I was right to be afraid because at the aitvaras’s command every spider in the shed came for me. When I described all the webs earlier I wasn’t exaggerating. Over a hundred spiders scurried in my direction. I backed up first, panic seizing me. Like I said, I’m not scared of spiders but that’s when there are one or two. Over a hundred and I was fucking terrified. Then I remembered that I had magic. A wave of my hand set the cobwebs ablaze. The problem was that there were a lot of cobwebs and in seconds the roof of the shed was burning brightly. Most of the spiders fled but some still had some courage. They must have been on the rum. They came at me. Some across the floor, some fell from the blazing ceiling. I felt them scurrying up my legs and dropping from the ceiling. Their fangs dug into me. Burning pain covered my arms, legs, back and chest. I had no idea what kinds of spiders they were so I didn’t know the effect their venom would have on me. I splatted a couple with my hands but I wouldn’t be able to get them all. I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself. It was hard because they were still biting me. I sent a pulse of magic outwards and the horrid little creatures were thrown off me. They landed over the floor on their backs. It gave me some satisfaction to watch their hairy little legs curl up as they died. Don’t fuck with a warlock no matter how many legs you have. The bites were very itchy but I couldn’t focus on that now. I could whip up a salve or something to heal the bites later. Right now there was an aitvaras to kill.
I ran back to where the little creature’s nest was and saw that it had not moved. I wondered if its pathetic little legs could even hold its weight. I didn’t have time to contemplate it; the flames were already scorching my flesh as they spread across the shed. I needed to get out before I became a roasted warlock. I reached for the little monster and its head jutted forwards and its beak snapped shut just centimetres from my fingers. I acted on impulse and punched it right in the face. It let out that noise again as it rebounded backwards. I grabbed it under the arms and holding it up above my head where it could not peck anything, I ran from the burning shed. You’re probably wondering why I didn’t just let it burn. Good question and I’ll give you a good answer. It can’t be killed with fire. It’s immune. Even purple fire wouldn’t kill it. It would hurt it, and piss it off but not kill it. Only boiling water can kill the aitvaras. As I was exiting the shed I saw something on the door that made me stop. Carved into the wood was a symbol that made my blood run cold. You got it, the same symbol from Mote Park. I didn’t need to check to know that the same symbol would be on each wall of the shed. The aitvaras had been planted here. By Rachel. She must have arranged for my friends to get this place, or else she planted the creature after the tenancy agreement had been signed. Sneaky bitch. I was certain it meant she was responsible for the Sheridans’ illness too. There was no doubt in my mind that I would find a creature of some sort in their house. Right now, I had to deal with this creature, though.
I ran into the kitchen, some of the surviving spiders followed but there no more than five and they were very small. I put up a boundary spell as I entered the house and they got stuck outside.
The aitvaras was flailing about in my hands, pecking furiously, but its limbs were too short to reach anything and so was it/s beak. I let go of it over the boiling water on the stove and it fell straight in with a splash. The screams were bone-chilling. I mean, they weren’t as bad as the wendigo’s but they were bad enough to wake the neighbours. Although, if they were in bed at this time then it was their own fault. It was only half ten. Who goes to bed before half ten?
The aitvaras splashed about but it was already submerged. I watched its face of fury contort into all different expressions of rage as it began to melt. It took more than ten minutes for the ordeal to be over but finally it was reduced to a dark globular fluid that floated on top of the water. I wasn’t sure how to dispose of an aitvaras; Rachel had never taught me that. I took the same precautions I had with the wendigo. I scooped some of the remains into a plastic water bottle and then tucked it in my jacket next to the wendigo ashes. The rest of the stuff, I poured down the sink and hoped it didn’t block it. Then I remembered the shed. I put the flames out with a wave of my hands, not that it did the shed any good, nor its contents. That thing was gone. Only a burnt husk of a shed was left in its place. A small price for Matt and Emma to pay for their souls.
I hurried back into the living room and was relieved to see that Matt and Emma both looked a lot better already.
“I take it you killed it then?” Matt asked. He was sitting up and rubbing his eyes. His skin had regained some colour and he no longer looked so thin. He still had the bags under his eyes and was a little pale, though. Emma looked almost perfect again already, but she hadn’t been as far gone. It was amazing how quickly magic can get to work.
“Obviously. I’m good at my job,” I said cockily. I had every right to be cocky; I’d killed an aitvaras and a wendigo in one night. And there was one more monster on my list.
“We’re not paying you,” Matt said. He gave me with a cheeky look. He was back to his usual self already.
“You already did,” I replied, thinking of the sword I’d destroyed in the park. I let out a small chuckle. I headed for the front door. The Sheridans needed me now.
“What do you mean?” he called after me.
“Rest up and you’ll be back to normal in a couple of hours.” He could find out about the sword later.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I was lucky enough to get a taxi to take me to Ashley’s house. I was even luckier to find that nobody had died there either. Yet. Margie was unable to stand, her husband was on death’s door and Ashley was still in her state of delirium.
“Margie, I need to pick your brain,” I said urgently as I squatted in front of her chair. “I think that there is a creature of some sort in this house making you sick but I have no idea what it could be. Can you give me a clue?”
She opened her eyes a fraction. “I’m very hot,” she mumbled. She was sweating profusely but I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do about it. The windows were already open and a fan was billowing away at her side. There were more pressing matters to attend.
“Margie, concentrate. What creature could be causing this sickness?” I asked again.
“Aren’t fair,” she slurred at me.
“I know it’s not fair. It’s really fucking unfair but there’s no point—”
“Are fair,” she said louder.
“What?” How was it fair?
“Aria fairy!” she snapped and for the first time the words came out clearly.
“Oh, of course, an aria fairy.” Never heard of one. The fairy species is so wide and diverse there are probably hundreds of subspecies that I’ve never heard of. I’ve heard of quite a few of them; aria isn’t among those. “Where would it be hiding?” I asked.
“Dark. Damp,” was all she said. It made sense. Where else would something that spread the plague be dwelling?
There was nothing in the downstairs bathroom so I shot upstairs and searched the upstairs one. No fairies but there was a rather large spider hiding behind the toilet. It reminded me too much of my ordeal in Matt’s shed so I kept my distance. The bites were still irritating me. I stood on the landing scratching my head and trying to figure out where to look next. A low moan came from the room at the end of the hall. I assumed it was Ashley’s dad. Considering Ashley and Margie were both in the living room I really hoped it was Ashley’s dad. I still hadn’t met him or even seen him and despite being in the middle of something rather important I couldn’t keep my curiosity at bay. I wandered to the door and eased it open. The smell of
the room was foul. I mean seriously. Not just fart bad but rotting corpse bad that had also farted bad. Laying in the bed was a man, or what was left of one anyway. He wasn’t dead but he was so wasted that I could see his bones through his clammy white flesh. His face was covered in bulging red swellings and his mouth and nose had what looked like mucus dried around them. His eyes were closed but his moans let me know he was still alive. I regretted coming into the room. This was not how I should see Ashley’s dad for the first time. He should be healthy, standing and able to communicate. I backed out of the room again and made my way downstairs. He probably didn’t have long left so I needed to find the aria now. As I walked through the kitchen a drop of water dripped out of the tap and the proverbial light bulb in my head flicked on. The cupboard under the sink was both dark and damp. I dropped to my knees and yanked the door open. Straight away I saw Rachel’s symbol on the inside. Bingo.
I moved a couple of bottles of bleach out of the way and saw the aria. It was not what you’re expect a fairy to look like. When you say fairy most people think little female, skimpy outfit and wings. I’ve never seen one of those by the way. This thing could not have been further from that description. It sort of looked like a lump of hairy snot. Maybe that’s mean to say but I don’t care. I was going to do worse than insult it. It sort of looked like a lumpy, green old man, covered in coarse disgusting hair and shrunk to about the size of a coffee cup. Its head which was the only part of it not covered in hair was bald, spotted and had at least seven tiny yellow eyes on it. I’m sure you can appreciate that I really did not want to touch it. It didn’t move. It just stood there in the cupboard staring up at me. I wondered how good its vision was. Either that amount of eyes gave it some kind of super sight, or each of its eyes were really poor which was why it had so many of them. Well, I couldn’t stand around contemplating its biology all night. I lifted my hand and brought it down hard, aiming to squash the thing. To my amazement the ugly little aria extended both of its hands and actually managed to stop mine. It actually held my hand above its head like it was some kind of super fairy. I tried to force my hand down but apparently the little tiny fairy was stronger than me. I tried to pull my hand back but it wouldn’t let go. It was actually humiliating me. I was glad no-one was here to see it. Imagine if Ashley could see me getting outfought by something less than a tenth my size. It was like getting beaten up by a premature baby.
