by Rain Oxford
“How dare you!” Patty shouted. “Don’t you see he’s torturing my daughter?”
Rebecca grabbed it and pulled, ripping a seam. I pulled harder. Exactly as I had suspected, Rebecca screamed, let go, and then burst into tears. She knew if she cried that she would get what she wanted.
“He hit her!”
“He didn’t hit her.”
“I saw it! My Rebecca doesn’t scream if she’s not in---”
“For the love of God, would you shut your mouth for once in your life?” he shouted, interrupting her.
Patty and Rebecca both sat in stunned silence for a moment before Patty slapped my dad.
I felt the heat burst out of me and thought I must have been hit with something, because at the same time, every window in the car shattered, including the windshield. My aunt and cousin screamed while my dad tried to get the car under control. Glass covered everything and I was bleeding. I wasn’t in any pain, though; the heat inside was overshadowing it.
The next thing I knew, we had pulled over and my dad was getting me out of the car. I told him my Pikachu was hurt and he said that it didn’t matter. “You can get another Pikachu. I can’t get another Nathan.” He brushed the rest of the glass off me, then got his mobile phone out of the glove box.
Patty was in front of the car, screaming that Rebecca was hurt. Rebecca was bleeding and crying, but she was always crying and bleeding didn’t mean she was really hurt. Nevertheless, my dad called an ambulance. It turned out she really was hurt.
Before joining Rebecca in the ambulance, Patty pointed at me, pure hatred in her eyes, and said, “This is your fault. You’ll pay for this.”
As they drove away, I wondered what had caused the windows to shatter. “Was that my fault?” I asked.
“Even if you broke the windows, it was Patty’s fault for yelling and hitting you.” He knelt in front of me to look me in the eyes. “No matter what happens, you don’t have to take someone treating you like that. I won’t hit Patty because she’s a woman, but if I hadn’t been driving I wouldn’t have let her hit me. Just because you’re too good to hit someone doesn’t mean you have to let them hit you. If a man ever hits you, you break his face. If a woman hits you, you can break her hand.”
“But I hurt Rebecca.”
He nodded. “Maybe. You were breathing really hard. What did you feel?”
“Hot.”
“When that happens, you have to stop it before someone gets hurt. Get away from people if you can or ignore them if you can’t. Pretend you’re somewhere else. It was my fault, too, because I knew you were getting riled and I didn’t do enough to help.”
“But I wanted to hurt her. She gets everything she wants the more bad she is.”
“I can’t blame you for wanting it, but wanting and acting are very different. There are people I want to hurt, but I won’t do it. If you act out violently, you’ll become what they call you.”
Everyone in the family except my parents believed Patty’s ridiculous story. I was adopted; I wasn’t really blood, so they believed her over my dad. I never saw my aunt or cousin again.
* * *
I woke sitting in a chair in a new room. It was a circular stone room, around twenty feet across, with no doors and white glowing symbols all over the walls and floor. In the middle of the room was a round altar made of black stone. It was covered in bones, books, candles, bottles of powders and liquids, and a mortar and pestle. Beside the altar was a circular pool of silver liquid. Behind it was a full-length, oval floor mirror with a gold frame and feet.
The chair I sat in was high-back and uncomfortable, covered in black leather. Luca was tied to an identical chair to my right. Across from us was Maori, who was exactly what I had expected him to look like. He had black hair pulled back and dark red eyes. His face was angular, his nose was sharp, and his sneer was cruel. He was slender and right at my height.
“You’re finally awake.” Even his voice sounded sinister, although it wasn’t particularly deep. I didn’t respond, so he continued. “It never ceases to amaze me how far my brethren will go to make others do their dirty work.”
I shrugged. “I can’t complain; I got what I wanted out of it. You know what we’re here for, right?”
“The gods sent you here to retrieve the Sword of Draskara. That isn’t what you want, though.”
“How’s that?”
“I knew they would send you two.”
“You know who we are?”
“You’re the Writer and the Painter. I can’t tell you two apart, though.”
“I’m the Writer,” I said.
“I’m Luca.”
“You’re the Painter in disguise,” Maori argued.
Luca looked at me and I shook my head, telling him not to correct Maori. “I have to say, it’s a little unfair that you know who we are and we don’t know anything about you.”
Maori smirked. “Well, that isn’t true. You know I am the ruler of Kradga.”
“How did you know they would send us? There are at least a hundred priests and even more casters who live outside the kingdoms.”
“You are their favorite pets. Twins are so rare on Syndrial. You’re not just casters; you’re demigods. As the sons of Set, you are inherently protective, clever, and difficult to kill. Together, your magic is stronger, so---”
“Wait, how does being Set’s sons make us protective?” I interrupted. “I kind of thought he was a jackass.”
Luca rolled his eyes. “Earth history is not exactly accurate. Set was first believed to be a ‘good guy’ and only became a villain later in Egyptian mythology. Remember what I… I mean, the Painter said; there is no good and evil. There are only differences of opinion. A lot of cultures once believed blood sacrifice was good, and some still do. Just because we don’t think the same doesn’t mean they’re wrong.”
“Can I get back to my explanation, or should I come back later?” Maori asked. When we both looked at him, he continued. “I knew they would send you because they would never put themselves in danger. I let them find out I had the sword because you have something I want.”
Neither of us spoke, although we both knew what he was talking about.
“I also knew you wouldn’t give up the Book of Names for the sword, since the book is more dangerous. Thus, I picked up something you wanted even more.”
Before I could decide on a sarcastic response, Maori made a motion with his hand and a scepter appeared in his grasp. The wand was fifteen inches long with the head of one of those komodo-dragon creatures the sand people used. Somehow, it looked a lot more deadly in stone. The stem of the scepter appeared to be made of black metal, while the head was made of carnelian. He pointed it at the mirror and the reflective surface changed. It looked like a hole into another room. Strapped down on a stone altar was a blindfolded woman with long red hair.
“Mother!” Luca gasped.
Chapter 8
“Our mother is dead,” I said.
Luca was shaking. “I saw the priest stab her in the chest.”
“She happened to fall through a portal and land in front of a person who could heal her,” Maori said. “When I found out about the Book of Names, I went looking for her.”
“You’re lying,” Luca accused.
He laughed. “Very well. If you won’t give me the book to save her, then I have no use for her. I will just kill her.”
“No!” Luca yelled, lunging for Maori. I grabbed my brother by the arms and held him back.
“We’ll give you the book. I’m tired of people being hurt by it. It’s not with us, though.”
Maori narrowed his eyes. “Then you go and get it. Your brother will stay here.”
I shook my head. “That’s not possible. It takes both of us to get to it.”
“We’re not trying to run,” Luca said. “We wouldn’t abandon our mother.”
“Fine. Get the book and call me when you have it.”
Luca pulled a stick of chalk out of his pocket a
nd drew a portal to get us home. “Are you sure you want him seeing that portal?” I asked.
He gave me a deadpan stare. “Right, sorry. It’s been a long time since we’ve done this kind of thing.” It wasn’t his intention to take us straight home, because that would give our home “address” to Maori.
Once he was done, I activated it. We both looked back at our mother again as we stepped inside. The world faded.
* * *
When light returned, we were standing in the pyramid, as if the gods had called us. The only light came from above us, but it looked like we were alone.
“Are we really giving up the book?” Luca asked.
“No.”
“We should. It’s not worth our mother’s life. It never was.”
“Whatever he wants the book for, it’s not good.”
“I don’t care. Our mother’s life is at stake.”
“We don’t know she’s alive. He didn’t have her there in the room.”
Luca groaned. “Use your brain, Brother. Only gods, half-gods, and souls can enter the god lands, and the same goes for Kradga. If she was there, that would mean she’s dead. I know it could be a trick, but she’s our mother. We have to save her.”
“We will, I promise. If she’s alive, we’ll save her. We need to get home, though. The book is on Earth.”
“Call your girlfriend. It’ll be quicker than me making a portal.”
“I didn’t bring my phone.”
Once again, he rolled his eyes. “When was the last time you had coffee?”
“You know when.”
“Right. She’s a goddess. Call her name three times and she’ll hear you.”
“Bast, Bast, Bast.”
With a flash of light, she appeared. “You called?”
“Wow, she’s such a good kitty,” Luca praised. “I can see why you like her so much.”
“Actually, it’s because I’m super flexible,” she responded without hesitation.
He wrinkled his nose as if contemplating it. “Is that really a useful skill, though? I imagine you two doing more role-playing than acrobatics.”
“Shut up, Luca.”
“We like to mix it up,” she said. “Do a little cat and mouse. I have no gag reflex, so I’m good at swallowing my prey whole.”
“Keira!”
“I always thought he’d go for the damsel in distress type. His first crush was on Princess Jasmine.”
I rubbed my forehead. “I’m going to smother you in your sleep. We need to get home,” I said.
“No problem,” Keira said, taking my hand and looping her free arm through Luca’s. “I look forward to hearing more about this princess I have to compete with.” With another flash of light, we were all standing in our living room.
“Can Maori summon us back to him or overhear us?” I asked.
“Not while I’m protecting you,” Keira answered.
“Good.” I went to my closet and pulled up the carpet, where I found the Book of Names set into a small hole. It was another modification I would have to rectify before moving out. I waved my hand over it and spoke the password, which released the magic trap I had on it. When I stood, Luca held out his hand to take it, but I didn’t give it to him. “We need a plan.”
“We give the book to Maori and get our mother back,” Luca said.
“We need a real plan. You know trading doesn’t work that way. We can’t give the book to Maori and we have to save our mother.” I grabbed a black tote bag out of the closet and slipped the Book of Names into it.
“You want to trick him?”
“Yes.”
Luca nodded. “Then I know who to go to. No one knows how to play people better than Langril.”
“I don’t know. Your old mentor kind of sounds like a creep.”
“Oh, he is one. But he’s still the best person for this job.”
“How do we find him?”
Luca shrugged. “The last time I talked to him, he said he was going to disappear.”
“What does that mean?”
“He needed to keep a closer eye on his enemies. I’m pretty sure he went back to his home world, Dothra.”
“We should get air miles for all the traveling we have to do. How do we get to him?”
Luca shrugged again. “No idea. I’m not the Painter anymore, so all I’m good for is looking pretty and telling historical facts. Getting to him is not as easy as making a portal.”
“I can send you to him,” Keira volunteered. “You have to picture his face.”
“That I can do. First, we need some supplies.” He ran around the house, gathering up flashlights. “Dothra wizards are not like those we know from TV and books.”
“How so?”
“Well, you will understand more when you see them, but there are really three things you need to know about them. First, they’re way more powerful than any wizard we’ve seen on TV. Second, every one of them will kill you in a heartbeat for no reason other than they saw you. And third, fear will get you killed.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“I don’t either. Langril wasn’t very clear on it, but I would do everything possible not to feel fear at all.” He stuffed two flashlights into his robe pockets and handed me another two.
“You look nervous.”
“I don’t know what kind of mood Langril is in, or even how much time has passed for him. Just give me a minute to calm down,” he said to Keira.
She nodded. “I might be able to whip you up a catnip cupcake if you think it’ll help.”
Luca laughed, losing the edge of his anxiety. “Thanks, princess, but I think I’m ready.”
I hoped she wouldn’t take offense to his new nickname for her, especially since he meant no offense. Luca had tested her and she’d passed. Bright light filled the room.
We were suddenly standing outside on a street. It was dark without any stars or moonlight. It looked like the most rundown town I had ever seen, because although there were streetlights, they were out. Buildings had boarded up windows and holes in them. There were no plants, although some of the concrete on the ground had cracks.
Luca pulled out a flashlight and switched it on. As soon as he did, shadows scattered from his light like cockroaches. “That is freaky,” I commented.
“Yeah, watch where you’re walking. Those bastards can be quick.”
“What bastards?”
The space before us darkened and it looked like the shadows were converging in one spot. It only took a second for a dark shape to form. Then Luca shined his light on it and the shape dispersed. “Those bastards. Like I said; wizards here are more powerful than casters or human wizards.”
“They’re shadows?”
“They can become shadows, yes.”
I pulled out my book and pen. “Cover me.”
A light appeared above the Writer and Luca and followed them throughout their journey on Dothra. It wasn’t enough to blind them, but it kept their enemies at bay.
“Whoa!” Luca said as a spotlight appeared above us. “Warn me next time, would you? I thought we were going to have to deal with aliens on top of wizards.”
“How do we find Langril from here?”
“Your girlfriend would have gotten us as close to him as we could get. I bet he has protection around him to keep anyone from popping up next to him, though. I bet he’s in one of these buildings. The Painter would be able to find him pretty easily. I don’t know his true name, though, or you could find him with your Writer powers.”
“I thought wizards don’t hide their names like Casters do.”
“Names are just as important on Dothra as Syndrial. It’s powerful magic anywhere.”
“That would have been good to know before we came here.”
“You know what else would have been good to know?”
“What?”
“That there were vampires here,” he said, freezing.
“Vampires…” I scoffed. “Stop joking.”
<
br /> “You’re going to regret those being your last words,” he said, pointing into the darkness ahead of us.
“There’re no such things as vampires.”
“You’re good with wizards and gods but not vampires?”
“I haven’t fully digested the gods part, either.” In the dark, three sets of glowing red eyes appeared. “Stereotypical.”
“I know less about vampires than I do Dothra wizards. All I know is that their eyes glow red. Let’s go.”
“Go? But we were about to invite you to dinner,” said a sinister voice behind us. We both automatically turned our backs to each other so that no one else could sneak up on us.
A man stepped into the light. He was six-five and slender, wearing a long, black leather coat and numerous flashy rings on his hand. His black satin shirt and black leather pants with thin chains around his torso. His hair was black, his face was pale, and his eyes glowed red.
“Well, someone learned how to vampire from Hot Topic.”
I could sense Luca’s eyes widening in shock. The vampire, on the other hand, didn’t know what I was talking about.
“I don’t think you want us for dinner. We just ate lots of garlic toast,” Luca said. “Got a stake handy, bro?”
“Do I look like Van Helsing to you?”
Two more vampires appeared next to him. “Well, now it’s a flock.”
“A group of vampires isn’t a flock,” I said. “It’s a colony or sometimes a camp.”
“I thought that was bats.”
“Same thing.”
“Vampires and bats aren’t the same thing.”
While we were talking, we were scanning our surroundings for anything helpful. It was so dark that there could have been weapons littering the ground and we just didn’t see them. I wanted to reach for the dagger in my boot, but experience had taught me to wait. If they really were vampires, the chance of a dagger hurting them was pretty low. On the other hand, if they tried to restrain us with rope, I could use it to cut us free.
The vampire on the right, who hadn’t said anything, lunged at us, but his comrades held him back. “They are different than the scum we have to feed on here,” the first said. “We will savor them.”
