Death's Mantle: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Revelations Book 1)

by J. A. Cipriano

  “Well, here’s the thing, and I know it’s going to sound crazy, but I totally just got into a fight with a cyclops named Polyphemus.” Malcom didn’t say anything else, and while Ian thought he had to be kidding, Malcom didn’t usually joke. Besides, his face was set in the sort of no nonsense stare he got when he was concentrating really hard on something.

  “Are you screwing with me?” Ian asked, pointing his drink at Malcom’s Coke. That had been the name of the person he’d heard through the door before Amy had vanished. “Because if you are, I’m taking that back.”

  Malcom rubbed one hand over his shaved head and sighed. “Unfortunately, no. This cyclops came to attack Kim. I felt it like an electric shock running through my body. I ran out of class and found Polyphemus trying to make mincemeat out of her.”

  “Polyphemus? Are you sure that was his name?” Ian asked as the door swung open and a pimple-faced girl a little older than him set the pizza down on the table between them. Ian nodded at her and smiled, but instead of responding, the worker glared at him and made her way back inside.

  “Well that was rude,” Malcom said, staring at the pizza like he had never eaten before. “Anyway, that’s what the cyclops said his name was. Does it ring a bell to you or something?”

  “Yeah, that was the name I heard before Amy and Jesse vanished into thin air,” Ian said, ignoring Malcom’s horrified look. “What, you think you’re the only one who had an interesting day?

  “I, um, what happened?” Malcom asked, horror flashing across his face. “Are there more cyclopses? What did you see?”

  “I didn’t see anyone. Amy and Jesse were gone by the time I got the door open,” Ian replied, pulling out his phone and searching for the name Polyphemus. His eyes widened as he stared at the text. “Polyphemus is a cyclops from the Odyssey. You know, the story by Homer we read in English, sophomore year?” Ian grabbed a slice of pizza with his shaking hands and looked at his friend for a long time, waiting to see what Mal’s reaction would be.

  “Why would a cyclops from ancient Greece try to abduct Kim?” Malcom asked, finally breaking down and taking a slice of pizza. “And why would someone kidnap Amy and Jesse?”

  “That’s the million dollar question.” Ian finished his slice and grabbed another as Malcom shook his head in annoyance.

  Malcom smacked one huge hand down on the metal table. The sound was so loud it made Ian’s heart leap into his throat. “We need to figure it out before someone else gets taken.”

  Ian said nothing as the last words he had heard in Amy’s house came back to him. The voice had said Polyphemus was preparing to take the others. A bad feeling swelled in his stomach, and the pizza turned to ash in his mouth. He took a sip of soda to force it down and looked up at Malcom.

  “Okay, I believe you.” Ian held up his hand. “Just tell me if anything else happened, and we can figure something out.”

  Malcom let out a sigh of relief, his anger fading instantly as a smile broke out across his face. “I knew you would. I can’t say why. I just had a feeling. Anyway, the cyclops did say something else.” Malcom paused and looked around before leaning forward and shielding his mouth with his hand. “He called me Mors.”

  “Are you sure?” Ian asked, quirking an eyebrow at his friend. “Because Mors is Latin for Death. Not like ‘oh someone died,’ death, but like Death himself Death. Why would an ancient cyclops call you that?”

  “I don’t know.” Malcom shook his head. “But I’m suddenly glad you took Latin freshmen year.”

  “I actually liked the language, but my dad wanted something more useful. Latin being a dead language and all.” He grinned. So he’d taken French which was only slightly better in Southern California. He was about to ask if there was anything else when another thought struck him. The voice had called someone Bellum. That was War in Latin.

  “So what do you think it means?” Malcom asked, eyeing the pizza. Ian waved his hand dismissively and Malcom snagged another piece.

  “I’m not sure.” Ian shut his eyes, picturing the cuts lacing Amy’s body and shivering. Something was up, now they just needed to figure out what. “But I think it means you need to do some more research. Go look up the myths. See if there’s anything there. Maybe look up stories about Death. Maybe he causes a war or something.” Ian stood, ignoring the rest of the pizza and held out his wrist, showing his watch. “Unfortunately, I can’t help you. I have a test in AP Econ, and then I have to go to swim. You think you can manage that until I get back?”

  “I don’t know why you’re going to class when we clearly have more pressing problems.” Malcom made no move to go. “You know all that mythology stuff better than me anyway.”

  “Okay, here’s the deal, Mal.” Ian let out a slow breath. “I want to talk to Kim without you, and you said she went back to class. She’ll be at the swim meet. Do I need to keep talking or are we good?”

  “Fine.” Malcom said, voice flat as his feature’s tightened in rage. “Meet up after school and go to your place?”

  “Okay,” Ian replied as he stared out into the parking lot. He’d confirm with Kim what happened when he got back to school. If she confirmed Malcom’s story they had a mythical Greek cyclops named Polyphemus after them and two names. War and Death. Neither of those things seemed very good.

  Ian 01:04

  Their swim meet was almost over, it was nearly time for Ian’s last race, and he still hadn’t seen Kim anywhere. He was starting to wish he had just gone with Malcom. He shook his head, frustrated. Why hadn’t she shown up? He splashed himself with water as a freshman girl with long blonde hair walked up to Caden as he was about to step through the gate to the pool. He turned and glanced at her, eyes roaming over her for a long time before he smiled at her. She smiled back.

  “You want me to sign that?” Caden asked, flicking his hand toward the calendar in her hand. Partially as a joke and partially as a way to raise money, the swim team had done a swimsuit calendar. Caden’s month was April. “It’s really not the best time…”

  The girl turned beet red as she looked around, presumably for her friends, but no one came to her aid. “If you wouldn’t mind,” she squeaked, voice so quiet Ian could barely hear her, and for a moment, he wondered if it had been some kind of dare.

  Casually, Caden reached out and took the calendar from her. He opened it to his month and began to scribble something down. After a couple seconds, he looked back up at her, reached out, and squeezed her breast. She stared at him, her face turning bright red as a mixture of confusion and horror swirled together on her face. He wrote something else before closing the calendar and holding it out to her. Without a word, she took it and glared at him.

  “You should read what I wrote,” Caden called as he stepped past her into the gated area surrounding the pool.

  She stood there for a long time before rifling through the pages. Her eyes swiveled back and forth as she read his message, biting her lip. “You’re a jerk!” she called. Caden smiled at her and waved as she stomped off.

  “What’d you write?” Ian asked as Caden sat down on the edge of the pool and grinned while several people slapped him high fives. Caden smiled and took a bottle of Coke from one of his teammates. Without a second thought, he shook it maniacally.

  “I wrote ‘Have a nice day. By the way, your boob felt nice. Love, Caden.’” Caden winked before pointing the bottle at Ian and opening it. Thick fizz shot out of the bottle, covering Ian in foamy soda.

  “What’d you do that for?” Ian growled as Caden gulped down the now flattened soda.

  “Flattened soda is a great source of quick energy, you know that.” Even as Caden finished the words, a whistle sounded, and they all jogged over to their starting areas. Caden looked at the lineup of swimmers and grinned.

  “I’m going to kill you! Kill all of you! You can’t beat me! I’m unstoppable! You are all nothing!” Caden yelled as he got into position. Ian glared at him and gritted his teeth. No, this time Caden was wrong. This ti
me, he was going to win.

  The gunshot went off, and they dove into the water. Ian swam as hard as he could, his body cutting through the water like a knife. His insides burned as he pushed himself. He was in second place as he touched the wall to head back.

  He was a tenth of a second behind the leader when he slammed into the wall, defeated. He’d been so close. He cursed himself as he hauled himself out of the pool. He had been so close.

  “You almost beat me that time, maybe next time,” Caden said, eyes flashing with amusement. “Of course then I’ll have to kill you.”

  Ian didn’t say anything as anger welled up inside him. Just once, he’d like to win the damn race. His hands curled into fists as Caden turned away to greet the other teammates. Instead of joining them, he caught sight of Kim out of the corner of his eyes and raced after her.

  He caught her just outside of the locker room, no doubt waiting for Caden. As soon as she saw him, her face fixed into a glare.

  “Hello,” he called, forcing as much cheer into his voice as was humanly possible. “I need to chat with you.”

  “There is absolutely nothing I want to talk to you about,” she replied, glancing past him, no doubt looking for the others, but Ian knew it’d be a couple minutes before anyone else showed up.

  “Malcom said you got attacked by a cyclops. Is that true?” he asked, ignoring the anger she was aiming at him. It would be nice to say it was abnormal, bit it really wasn’t. Almost all of their interactions were hostile.

  Kim’s face quivered, her angry mask fracturing for a moment as fear filled her eyes. She looked away from him and stared at her white tennis shoes. “Malcom is crazy,” Kim snapped, narrowing her eyes. “He has to be…”

  “Are you sure, Kim? He didn’t seem like it at all,” Ian replied, fighting the urge to reach out, grab her chin, and force her to look him in the eyes. “And there was an attack at Amy—”

  “Nothing happened!” Kim said, stomping away from him without even a second glance. “Nothing!”

  Ian stared after her until she disappeared into the distance, trying to decide whether or not to go after her, when Caden clapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, you left in a hurry earlier, I’m surprised you’re not in the showers already. And I’m sorry about the soda thing, I thought it’d be funny, but in retrospect, I sort of feel like a jerk.”

  “Only sort of?” Ian asked as Caden pulled him into the locker room ahead of the throng of other swimmers.

  “Hey, I’m trying to apologize.” Caden looked at him sheepishly. “And don’t worry about the race. I’m sure you’ll win next time. That one was close.”

  Ian nodded and broke away from his friend to grab his stuff from his locker. Instead of showering, he just stripped off his clothes and changed before racing out to his car, a white Honda prelude, and climbed inside. He couldn’t say why, but he knew Kim was lying. The only question was why, and if anyone would know, it’d be Malcom.

  His cell phone buzzed annoyingly and unceasingly, filling the air with “We Like to Party” by the Venga Boys before he’d made it out of the parking lot. A sigh escaped his lips as he fished the device from his pocket and answered it. With his left hand on the wheel, he maneuvered through traffic as he put it to his ear.

  “Hello?” he asked the device.

  “Ian, you busy?” it answered him. He frowned.

  “No, Dad, I’m not. What’s up?”

  “How’d your swim meet go?” his dad asked, sounding genuinely interested.

  “I got second place, again. What’s up?” Ian repeated. His dad never called unless he wanted something.

  “That’s great! Listen, can you come by now?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be there.” Ian clicked his phone off, and in an unexpected bout of rage, threw it at his passenger door. He swung his car around erratically and changed course.

  He smiled in spite of himself. There was one thing he always looked forward to seeing when he returned to his father’s house. The front yard was surrounded with beautiful red rose bushes he had planted along with his mother. He hadn’t been more than five years old when they had planted them. After every last rose bush had been planted, she had held him close and whispered in his ear, “These roses will be our treasure forever. Even if I’m not with you, these roses will be here forever, timeless.”

  When he was a young child, he would cry a lot. He couldn’t help it, but no matter what happened, or how badly he lost at something, his mother was always there for him. Her smile was enough to dash away his fears and make him resolve himself to try harder.

  He looked up, and the realization that he had arrived at his father’s house by muscle memory snapped him from his daze. His father was standing outside to greet him. He was tall and thin, and still wore his dress slacks and a white button down shirt, though he’d removed his suit jacket and tie. He had a martini in one hand as he waved at Ian. Still, something was very wrong. Even though his dad seemed genuinely happy to see him, he wouldn’t normally wait outside…

  Ian felt his heart ache. There were tears in his eyes even as he tore himself from his car and ran up the walk.

  “Where are the rose bushes?” he yelled at the top of his lungs. Ian looked around frantically but couldn’t find any trace of the rose bushes that once lined the yard to the house. They had been replaced with bright yellow sunflowers.

  “We had them removed. It’s no good if the children get hurt,” his dad answered calmly. Behind him, two tiny faces appeared in the window for a moment before scurrying off once again. His father now wore the look of one who had, on some small level, expected the reaction he had received, but had dismissed it from possibility. Was this why he had waited outside? “Anyway, you’re not spending much. You look thin. Are you eating?”

  “I can’t believe you got rid of the roses. I planted those with mother! How could you just erase her memory from the world?” Ian’s vision blurred as he stared at the spot where the last trace of his mother had been, only now it was empty and gone. Taken away from him like everything else.

  He needed to leave, to get out of here before he got into a screaming match with his father. If that happened, well… what would his siblings think? Surely they’d hear the noise and want to know what was going on. Then Ian would have to apologize, and why should he apologize?

  Ian spun and sprinted back toward his car without another word, his jaw set in a hard line as he grabbed the door handle and jerked it open.

  “Ian, wait! I need to show you something. It’s important!” his dad called, moving toward the vehicle as fast as Ian slid inside and slammed his door shut.

  “I never should have come here!” Ian cried, and without waiting for a response, flung his car in reverse and took off. He could barely see the road as tears streamed down his face and ragged breaths tore from his throat.

  Ian 01:05

  The key turned in the lock to his apartment. Ian opened the door and stepped inside. Malcom sat in the middle of the floor with various books strewn about the room. It was the exact same position he had been in when he had come over earlier, talking about how a cyclops had invaded their school.

  It had sounded totally crazy that Kim would lie about the attack, but Ian couldn’t shake the feeling that Malcom might be right. Especially given what had happened at Amy’s house.

  “How’d it go?” Malcom inquired, not looking up. “You win?”

  “Second, Caden came in first.” Ian rushed past him, careful to shield his tear-stained face from his friend.

  “I see,” Malcom replied, still not looking up from his book. It was a heavy looking thing with a black leather cover and pages that gleamed like gold around the edges.

  “I’m taking a shower. Try not to excite yourself too much.” Ian didn’t expect a response as he made his way toward the bathroom. Malcom was clearly too involved in his studies to pay much attention. Good. He was in no mood to talk. Not just yet, anyway. He needed a moment to try and forget what his father had done with the r
oses. Besides, he smelled like chlorine, and it was starting to fry his brain.

  Once inside his bathroom, Ian turned on the shower and stripped. Without waiting for the water to warm, he stepped into the chilling spray. He always relished those first few moments when the temperature was too cold. For whatever reason, he’d always enjoyed colder water, which was part of the reason he had taken up swimming. Something about gliding through a chilled pool in the early morning made him feel more at ease than a long soak in a spa ever would.

  He put his head against the cool tile and smiled as the water cascaded over him, dragging all his pain and anguish down the drain along with it.

  Ian was pretty sure Malcom had spent the evening sitting on Ian’s floor surrounded by books he’d gotten from the library and plugging away at Ian’s spare laptop. Not that Malcom being over for long periods of time was uncommon since he didn’t have a computer of his own nor real quiet space. More often than not, he was like a roommate that didn’t pay rent, which suited Ian just fine because Ian lived alone.

  When he was six, his mom died from cancer. He remembered her wasting away in her bed, unable to even hold him. After that he had grown very quiet, what could he say, after all? As a child, he would run into the kitchen every morning expecting her to be there cooking breakfast, and at parent visitation days, he would look around expecting to see her, but there was never anyone there but his fondest wishes.

  Intellectually, he knew she was gone, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. When he turned thirteen, all the pictures of his mother disappeared from the house. Try as he might, he had been unable to find them anywhere. He still recalled the conversation that followed.

  “Dad, where are all the pictures of mom?” he’d asked, holding an empty frame as the cardboard backing stared back at him.

  “I put them away.” His father crossed his arms over the chest of his blazer and settled his blue eyes upon him, and for a moment, it seemed like he was gearing up for a fight.