Magic and Loss: A Novel of Golgotham

by Nancy A. Collins

  “Excuse me, Mr. Lattimer,” Hexe asked politely. “Is Ashley home?”

  “Come inside,” Ashley’s dad sighed, stepping aside so we could enter. “Sweetie!” he called out. “Someone’s here to see you!”

  As we stepped into the living room, I spotted a framed photo sitting on the mantelpiece that showed an attractive fifty-year-old woman, wearing a Homecoming Queen’s tiara and corsage, standing next to a gawky seventeen-year-old boy in a rented tux. Both were smiling at the camera.

  There was the sound of hurrying feet, and a second later the same fifty-year-old woman, dressed in Aéropostale jeans and a top from Forever 21, came running down the stairs from the second floor. “Who is it, Dad—is it Justin?” She froze upon seeing her visitors, then grinned ear to ear, revealing her braces. “Mr. and Mrs. Hexe!”

  “Hello, Ashley,” Hexe smiled as he took the brass clock from his coat pocket. “Are you ready to turn back time?”

  • • •

  “It looks like FAO Schwarz exploded in here,” I said, staring in amazement at the nursery that had once been my bedroom. “Was he any trouble?”

  “Oh, no. He was a perfect little angel. Weren’t you, sweetheart?” my mother cooed. “By the way—what are you going to name him? You know, your father and I were hoping you would continue the Eresby family tradition. . . .”

  “You want us to name him Timothy?” I frowned.

  “Well, you’ve got to name him something—we can’t keep calling him ‘the baby.’ That’s going to sound funny once he starts school.”

  “Well, Hexe and I have been kicking around a few ideas,” I admitted. “But his family has their own traditions, and they go back a lot farther than the Eresbies. . . .” I trailed off as I saw the look of dismay on my mother’s face, and then sighed in resignation. “But we’ll definitely take it into consideration.”

  Hexe and my father were talking over scotch and sodas in the Grand Salon. As I entered, I saw that Hexe was allowing him to examine his new right hand.

  “There you are, Princess!” My father smiled. “Hexe was just showing off the prosthesis you crafted for him. I must say, I am extremely impressed! I have never seen anything like this before in my life! It’s not just functional, but elegant as well. It’s a true work of art.”

  “I guess my art degree wasn’t such a waste of time, after all.”

  “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that.” My mother sniffed, reminding me, potion or no potion, some things never change.

  “Mom, Dad,” I said, clearing my throat. “I appreciate you reinstating my trust fund. I know that things have not been that great between us in the past—but I want to change that. You are right—I have been shirking my responsibilities to the family business. Well—I’m finally ready to take my place on the board of directors. In fact, I actually have a long-range real estate investment and development plan I would like to submit at the next meeting,” I explained as I took a manila envelope out of my purse.

  My father opened the envelope and studied its contents for a long moment, and then looked at me for another long moment, as if truly seeing me as an adult for the first time. “This is quite an ambitious undertaking. Are you sure you’re ready to tackle something like this?”

  “I’ve never been readier in my life,” I assured him.

  “Very well; I’m prepared to back you on this,” he said, “but it’s going to cost you.”

  “Just name it,” I replied.

  “Exactly.” My father smiled.

  • • •

  “Okay, fellas!” I said into my smartphone. “Let ’er rip!”

  “You’re the landlady!” Octavia replied.

  A couple of seconds later, the huge banner advertising Golgotham Vue was cut free from its moorings at the top of the apartment building and fluttered to the ground like a surrendered flag, allowing sunlight to strike the face of the building unimpeded for the first time in months.

  As one of my ancestors was fond of saying, it takes money to fight money. And few people have as much money as the Eresbies. Not even Ronnie Chess, who, upon reading the latest poll numbers for Mayor Lash’s reelection, decided to divest himself of his Golgotham properties. Oh, he made a tidy little profit on the deal, of course—his type always do—but nowhere near the killing he had hoped for.

  The first order of business was changing the name of the building back to Machen Arms. The second was inviting back all the evicted residents, and reinstating their old leases. Octavia had already moved back in, but, as it turned out, Torn and Hana preferred living in Fetlock Mews, as it gave them the opportunity to serve as day care for their great-grandson while I was at work. Like Chess, I’m also interested in renting to humans looking to live in Golgotham—just not investment bankers, financial officers, and corporate lawyers. If the first wave of writers, visual artists, dancers, and musicians work out, then I’ll convert another property I have an eye on into genuine artists’ lofts, split equally between human and nonhuman creatives.

  There’s more than one way to have your world destroyed, and you certainly don’t need to open a portal to the Infernal Region to create hell on earth. All it takes is for those who can make a difference to do nothing. And after all I and my family have gone through to protect these few city blocks, and all the blood that was shed to keep it and those who call it home safe, I’ll be damned if I’m going to stand by and let a bunch of greedy real estate developers do what hordes of demons could not.

  “Sorry I missed the big unveiling,” Hexe said as he entered the courtyard. He was carrying our three-month-old son in a Snugli strapped to his chest and walking Beanie at the same time. “But someone needed a last-minute diaper change.”

  “There’s my boys!” I laughed, kissing two and petting one. “So—is Operation: Date Night a go?”

  “Ashley will be at the house by six o’clock to babysit,” Hexe replied. “I thought we would start off with drinks at the Calf, then cab over to Lorelei’s for dinner and a show, and then top it off by going dancing at the Golden Bough.”

  “Sounds positively delightful!” I smiled. “What do you think, Tymm?” My son and namesake laughed uproariously in response, because Beanie was licking his feet.

  I keep thinking about what Mr. Manto said about it being the dawn of a new world. Sometimes I wish I could still turn to him for counsel, but he and Clarence live in Fiji now. Yeah, that’s right. Clarence and Mr. Manto are shacked up. Talk about a September-February romance. Clarence hired Chorea’s husband, Faro the Mover, to teleport them halfway around the world, so he didn’t worry about travel sickness. At least Clarence can finally strut his Hawaiian shirts. I still believe Mr. Manto’s prophecy was a true one. It’s already a new era for Golgotham now that it’s truly rid of the Maladanti once and for all and it’s elected its first non-Kymeran mayor, not to mention the emergence of a new class of human artisan-wizards such as myself and Bartho. And then there’s the small matter of the first half-human member of the Royal Family to take into account. Of course, change is never easy, and I don’t doubt there will be plenty of opposition from both Kymeran and human society. But all that truly matters to me is that the Golgotham that emerges will be better, not worse, than the one I have come to love.

  And as for my son, Tymm, he may never be able to work magic the way his ancestors did—but that doesn’t matter to me or his father. That’s because we’re planning to raise him to be an artist, not a warlock.

  My mother will be thrilled.

  Golgotham Glossary

  Abdabs: The frights/terrors; any number of creatures known for harassing/frightening humans. Used in Kymeran slang to connote annoyance, as in “Bloody abdabs!”

  Ambi: Someone who practices both Right and Left Hand disciplines.

  Artifex, pl. Artifices: A type of Kymeran wizard, usually found within the Crafter class, who specialized in the domestication and “sculpting” of the amoebalike symbiotic organism known as living glass. Most artifices died during the drowning
of Kymera, along with the living glass they tended. The last known artifex was Lady Ursa, consort to Lord Arum, who managed to save the last sample of living glass in the world. There has not been another artifex born in ten thousand years.

  Bastet: A shape-shifting race taking the form of different big cats, such as tiger, lion, and panther. Also known as the Children of Bast.

  Berskir: A race of shape-shifters taking the form of various species of bear, such as grizzly, black bears, and polar bears.

  Centauride: A female centaur; also known as a centauress.

  Charmer: A wizard who creates charms for a living.

  Chuff/Chuffing/Chuffed: Euphemism for sexual intercourse.

  Come Hither: A spell that calls a man or woman against his or her will, often during sleep or in an altered state of consciousness. Because of this, the subjects of Come Hithers rarely have any memory of what happened to them once the spell is lifted. This spell is a favorite of date rapists and stalkers.

  Client: Humans who pay to consult Kymeran witches and warlocks for any number of reasons.

  Croggy: A subordinate or acolyte.

  Crossed: Also known as cursed, afflicted, hexed, jinxed.

  Dexter/Dexie: Someone who practices Right Hand magic, such as lifting curses and curing ailments. Right Hand magic is protective/defensive, as opposed to Left Hand magic, which is malicious/offensive.

  Dowser: A psychic who specializes in finding lost things or locating fresh water.

  Dunderwhelp: A stupid or unwanted child.

  Dysmorphophilia: An inflicted preference for ugly sexual partners. A favorite curse among ex-wives whose former husbands have dumped them for a younger woman. Considered a nuisance curse.

  Fecker: A contemptible person.

  Glad Eye: The opposite of the Evil Eye. A charm that casts good fortune and success, especially in love and business.

  Hamadryad: A shy, seldom-seen nature-spirit who lives inside one particular tree, such as an oak, birch, ash, or sycamore. Because of the urban nature of New York City, only a handful of hamadryads live in Golgotham.

  Hamble: To cripple an animal, supernatural or not, by cutting out the balls of its feet for the purpose of fighting. This mutilation guarantees that the animal cannot physically back down from a fight because it lacks the ability to move backward without falling.

  Hambler: One who specializes in crippling animals for the fighting pit.

  Heavy Lifter: A well-regarded banisher; one who can lift malignant curses.

  Hedger: Short for “hedgewitch” or “hedge doctor”; a wizard specializing in herbal treatments of various illnesses.

  Huldra: Female member of the huldrefolk, one of the supernatural races living in Golgotham. They resemble beautiful young women, except for the cow tails growing from the base of their spines. The males of their kind, known as huldu, appear as handsome men, except for the tails of bulls growing from the base of their spines.

  Inflicted: The state of having an illness or spate of misfortune supernatural in origin.

  Inflictions: A number of spiteful/socially embarrassing medical illnesses and physical conditions that are the result of supernatural agents. These curses mimic genuine physical and mental illnesses, such as cancer or schizophrenia, and require a diagnosis by a Kymeran healer. If the illness is natural in origin, the client is referred to a doctor. Also referred to as afflictions.

  Ipotane: One of the supernatural races found in Golgotham. Humans from the waist up, they are horses from the waist down. Unlike centaurs, they have only two legs. They are often mistaken for satyrs, much to their disgust.

  Juggler: Someone who is known as a competent practitioner of both Right and Left Hand magic.

  Lifter: A witch or warlock who specializes in lifting curses.

  Ligature: Magical binding using knotted cords that prevents someone from physically doing something.

  Maenads: One of the supernatural races living in Golgotham. Maenads are female followers of Dionysius, the Greek god of wine. They go into ecstatic frenzies during which they lose all self-control and engage in sexual orgies, ritualistically hunt down wild animals (and occasionally men and children), tear them to pieces, and devour the raw flesh.

  Misanthrope: An antihuman bigot.

  Norlock: A Kymeran incapable of magic due to being born with deformed hands or missing fingers. Norlocks are usually of mixed parentage, although some have been born to full-blooded Kymeran parents. It is viewed as a rare, but serious birth defect.

  Munted: Extremely drunk or otherwise intoxicated.

  Nump: A fool. A derogatory racial slur directed at humans.

  Peddler: Short for “charm peddler”—a wizard who specializes in selling charmed objects for commercial gain.

  PTU: Short for Paranormal Threat Unit, a separate branch of the NYPD in charge of policing Golgotham and responding to paranormal/supernatural events throughout the triborough area.

  Pusher: Short for “potion pusher”—a wizard who specializes in selling love potions, untraceable poisons, etc., for commercial gain.

  Satyr: One of the supernatural races living in Golgotham. Satyrs are humans from the waist up; goats from the waist down. They also sport horns on their heads. They are notorious for being prone to gambling, drinking, and kidnapping beautiful women. Female satyrs are called fauns.

  Talent: A natural magic ability, applying both to humans and Kymerans.

  Twunt: Slang for a paying customer who visits Golgotham’s red-light district.

  Widdershins: The direction in which a curse must be turned in order to undo it.

  The Witchfinders: An elite medieval military group composed of both Christian and Islamic knights and soldiers during the Unholy War. Famous for severing the extra “magic” fingers of Kymerans.