Spirit of the Dragon: A Story of Magic, a Witch, and the Third Reich

by J Cameron Boyd

  The Packard was his latest upgrade and within it was the Finder; a device magically adapted to the frequencies of anyone he would ever want to find in a hurry. Elizabeth wasn’t in the Finder’s program, but with Michael’s help, her essence would be an easy insert.

  That was what the orb was for. Within the orb was everything about Michael’s daughter the Finder would need to pinpoint her location. Deftly, Raul inserted the orb into his invention, punched in the appropriate information, and dialed up Elizabeth’s position.

  As the Finder searched, Raul readied the vehicle anticipating a high-altitude trajectory. The windows sealed, oxygen flowed, and the wheels prepared to rotate pointing the hubs earthward for maximum anti-grav flight.

  Hitting the last preparatory switch brought a smile to Raul’s face as he imagined what his fellows Lantians would say if they knew he was using Piretian technology.

  “At least I enhanced it with magic,” he smiled again just as the Finder clicked out the girl’s location.

  Following his thought with a quick look to make sure he was alone, the magician flipped the final switch. With a barely audible whoosh, the Packard shot straight up into the sky, becoming but a small speck of black against the afternoon blue.

  Seconds later Raul was speeding toward his destination, thanking the gods that the witchling just happened to be in his current time frame.

  CHAPTER 8

  The year was 1939. The Nazi’s expansion was in full swing. Austria and Hungary had come into the fold in thirty-eight. The western half of Poland and Slovakia had just fallen, and all of Europe feared this was only the beginning.

  As if mirroring the foreboding European mood, the solitary figure of a woman stood on the cliff overlooking the cold Baltic Sea. The frigid September wind tore wildly at her hair and cloak. The woman stirred, then looked down; not to the dark waters below, but into the ground beneath her feet.

  “Willow, you’re the expert. Can it be done?” Elizabeth called.

  “The rock here is without a fault. It’ll hold the converter,” Willow answered as she floated up through the soil to stand next to her friend.

  “Any difficulty?”

  “Like passing through butter.” She airily waved a hand. “You should try it sometime.”

  “No thank you. The idea of walking around in solid stone gives me the willies.”

  “Aww come on, Elizabeth, I could use an assistant.”

  “Have you ever asked yourself why you’re the only one building Ways?”

  “I figure it’s because witches are either claustrophobic or chicken.” Willow grinned at her as she secured her wind-whipped hair into a ponytail.

  “Let’s just say it feels better to let you dig in the dirt than to try it myself.”

  “You are chicken,” Willow gloated.

  “Call me what you want. It won’t get me down there.”

  “Oh well, you would make a great partner. Except,” Willow paused, “that spot you picked in Warsaw. I’d rather the Way begin in a more secure location.”

  Elizabeth rubbed her forehead with the heel of her hand. “I understand your concern, but by the time they fully realize how desperate their situation is, they won’t be able to escape if the entrance isn’t close by. Better we leave it in the Ghetto. The position isn’t ideal, but it gives them a chance.”

  “Still, there’s no way we’ll get them all out.”

  “I’ll be happy with half.”

  “Seriously? You intend to move sixty thousand humans through a Way?” Willow shook her head in disbelief.

  “No one deserves to be targeted as they have. And they certainly don’t deserve to die.”

  “I know, but the Way is meant to be our secret. No one but the gods and witches are supposed to know they exist.”

  “And it will remain so. Those coming up in Finland won’t remember a thing.”

  “Really?” Willow looked at her in surprise. “Elizabeth you sneaky thing. That’s going to be one heck of a project to mind-wipe that many people. Especially since it has to be for such a specific memory. And then alternate memories have to be planted. That’s an overwhelming task. But still … it’ll be exciting if it can be done. Who’s overseeing the spell?” she asked eagerly.

  “Julia.”

  “Ah, of course. Excellent choice.”

  “She and Frank will also be guarding the Ghetto opening. You know those two,” Elizabeth grinned. “Once you get it up and running, no one will know it’s there until it’s needed.”

  “What happens when we’ve done what we can? Someone is going to have to break it down.”

  “Are you volunteering?” Elizabeth looked hopeful.

  “I suppose I am. You’re not the only soft-hearted witch on the planet.”

  “Still, I won’t hold you to it.”

  “God willing, we’ll have a significant impact on the population of Finland.”

  Elizabeth smiled, picked up the two wooden poles lying on the grass beside her and tossed one to Willow. “Let’s go check out their new home. We’ll need a secure location for the exit.”

  Willow didn’t catch her pole. Instead, she raised a hand and stopped it a foot in front of her and set it to hovering at a height just above her knees.

  “You haven’t picked one out?” Willow asked in mock disbelief.

  “You would have just changed it. I figured I’d wait for you and conserve my energy.”

  “I suppose you’re right. After all, I’m the ex … what … what’s that?”

  A swiftly expanding shadow overhead caught the witch’s attention. Looking up, Willow saw a large, black apparatus speeding toward her head. Willow stood there with her mouth agape. Elizabeth grabbed her friend and yanked her out of the way.

  A split second later a brand-new Packard slammed down onto the grass. The vehicle hit, bounced, and came back down. Three of its tires rested (or almost rested) on the grass. The fourth tire was riding atop Willow’s wooden pole. The right front end of the vehicle was cocked upward at a thirty-degree angle.

  “Whoops,” a voice called out from the driver’s seat. “Sorry ladies, this dratted gear is a bit sticky. You know—Piretian technology and all that.”

  “Willow stop!” Elizabeth grabbed her friend's hand before she could launch the glowing, red ball of light she held. “Calm down. The Packard is protected.”

  Willow was breathing hard and looked ready to blast the vehicle back to where it came from. “How do you—”

  “I recognize the driver.”

  “And so you should, young lady,” the driver shouted. “I’ve been a friend of your father’s ever since he set foot into this dimension. How are you, Powahti?”

  “Just fine, Raul. But please, call me Elizabeth.”

  “Taken to the white man ways, have we?” joked the Lantian, who knew and loved Elizabeth’s mother.

  Taking no offense, Elizabeth accompanied her smile with an amused shake of her head.

  Continuing to chuckle, Raul turned his attention to Willow. “And who is this lovely, young lady?” he asked climbing out of his car. “Oh, my. The gods must be smiling on me. How did I get so lucky as to find such a beautiful woman on this lonely piece of land?” Raul gave her a small but elegant bow.

  Pertly arching an eyebrow, the ancient witch retracted her spell.

  ***

  “A Witch’s Way huh? I’ve only once had the pleasure. Found out I didn’t have the stomach for it. Have you thought about what to do with all the vomit? Those coming last are going to get quite messy.”

  Willow and Elizabeth looked at one another, realizing the magician was correct. The thought had not crossed their minds.

  “What would you suggest?” Elizabeth asked.

  “There’s a celery root potion. It’s high in potassium and extremely alkaline, and it’ll last for hours. You might want to consider something along those lines.”

  “And the spell for that potion?” Elizabeth asked.

  “I’ll show it to you,” Rau
l promised.

  “I’d rather hear your excuse for trying to crush us,” Willow interrupted not yet certain of her motive. The man, despite his massive size, was attractive. But his driving was an issue. The witch didn’t take well to being startled.

  “Seriously, my dear lady. It’s a flaw in the design. There’s no possible reason I would purposely put an elegant woman, such as yourself, in danger. The Piretian thing-a-ma-jig keeps sticking.”

  “Have you tried fixing it?”

  “I’ve been a little busy. But once I get a handle on this situation I’m in, perhaps you wouldn’t mind giving me a hand?” Raul smiled.

  “What situation?” Willow asked.

  “There is a magician that has gone missing, and I’m certain the Germans are the cause of it,” Raul answered as he turned to Elizabeth. “Powahti … I mean Elizabeth … it seems I need your help.”

  ***

  The Lantian’s explanation took a while. What with Willow’s questions, the pause to get the flying stick out from under the car, and Elizabeth’s concerns over meeting Urik’s son, Raul felt lucky to finish in under an hour.

  “So what say you, girl? Will you give us a hand?” Raul asked Elizabeth.

  “You really think your friend could be coerced into helping the Germans?” Elizabeth asked, looking doubtful.

  “Haushofer has the manuscripts. With enough time, there isn’t anything he can’t do.”

  “And you think his son is your best bet?”

  “With your help, I do. Unfortunately, his connection to his father is a double-edged sword. The son’s concern over his missing father clouds his ability to find him as much as their connection clarifies it.”

  “And this would involve me how?” Elizabeth asked. “Surely you’re not asking me to ease his worry?”

  “His problem is that is sure he is the only one that can find his father, and with that responsibility on his shoulders, he’s freezing up, making it impossible for him to find his father. Plus, I’m afraid the man thinks he must succeed simply because he is a man.”

  “In other words, his masculine side is blown way out of proportion,” Willow inserted.

  “That is indeed the case,” Raul sighed.

  “You want me to counter his masculine sense of duty?” Elizabeth questioned skeptically.

  “Not at all. Your strength is your sensitivity. Not only will it bring him balance, but I suspect your mere presence will distract some of that male nonsense he’s accepted. His Lantian/human masculinity has decidedly forsaken his more sensitive nature. His balance requires feminine energy that is a close match to the frequency of his masculine energy.”

  “Sounds like a science project,” Willow cringed.

  “It’s merely a desperate measure for a desperate situation. We must find his father before it’s too late.”

  “The situation does sound desperate. But I’m not sure I’m the match you’re looking for,” Elizabeth said.

  “I think you’d make a good team.”

  “Perhaps … but, frankly, Willow and I have a lot of work to do here,” Elizabeth said evasively. “And, when it comes right down to it, the blending of energies that would take might be beyond what I can accomplish at this point in my life.”

  Urial’s prophecy was rearing its head in Elizabeth’s awareness, and she could feel herself mentally digging in her heels. There was certain to be a blending of their energies, and she was determined not to be trapped into a volatile union with some man she knew nothing about, no matter how worthwhile the project was.

  “Again, all we have to do is pinpoint Urik’s location. After that, he and I can finish the job. Of course, if you want to stick around and set a few things right, I’d welcome your presence. If not, I will always be grateful for your help.”

  “Do you have a plan?” Willow asked skeptically, feeling rather protective of her friend.

  “If the two can locate his father, the three of us, if Elizabeth decides to accompany us,” Raul gracefully inclined his head toward Elizabeth, “will go, disguised, of course, as something to do with the Nazis.”

  “You’re what; six-foot-seven? How are you going to fit that into your disguise?”

  “Blond hair, fair skin, and the name Hans should do it,” Raul said airily.

  “I don’t know, Elizabeth. Magic and the Nazis—seems like a dangerous combination to me. Wouldn’t it be better to fight this situation from a distance?” Willow said fretfully.

  “If the Nazis get the power they seek, there won’t be a safe distance,” Raul pointed out.

  “He’s right,” Elizabeth reluctantly agreed. “I’ve heard of the books in question. If those spells are mastered, anyone they go up against won’t stand a chance. Even my father’s clan might have to vacate the planet.”

  “Seriously!” Willow gasped.

  “Yes,” Elizabeth and Raul solemnly answered in unison.

  Seconds later, an explosion rocked the side of the Packard.

  “My car! What was that?” Raul bellowed.

  “There!” Willow pointed at a group of men coming along the top of the cliff from the north.

  “Soldiers!” Raul had spotted their uniforms.

  “It’s a German patrol,” Elizabeth clarified, upset with herself that she had not kept her guard up. She knew the Germans had an outpost in this area. “We need to get out of here.”

  “Too late,” Raul countered, his hands instantly turning a brilliant shade of green.

  Before Elizabeth could stop him, the ancient magician cupped his hands together, then transferred the green mass to his right hand. As if getting ready to heave a football, his arm came back and rocketed forward, propelling the green mass toward the soldiers.

  The magician’s toss fell short, scorching a twelve-foot section of earth well in front of the soldiers’ path.

  The Germans hit the ground and started firing.

  “Duck!” the Lantian yelled.

  Willow and Elizabeth were already hunkered down behind the Packard.

  “What do we do?” Willow shouted.

  “Raul has sealed their fate,” Elizabeth shot back grimly. “We have no choice.”

  “It was only a binding spell,” Raul said defensively.

  “You missed,” Elizabeth snapped at him. She waved her hands in a fluid gesture and a layer of air solidified around her body.

  “Shield?” the Lantian asked.

  “Stay here,” Elizabeth growled as she stood up.

  Bullets began clanking off her energy bubble the instant she moved from the Packard’s cover. Assured of her protection, the witch broke into a sprint, intent on doing what had to be done as quickly as possible.

  Her impenetrable shield held fast, and Elizabeth never wavered. Though she did slow when the German stalk hand grenades began blasting holes beneath her feet.

  With the bullets slapping into the cushion of protective air and the explosions almost deafening her, Elizabeth got to the position she sought. When she was close enough to make sure she would hit her target, she let the spell fly. Before her, the latest in combat gear, an array of weaponry, and fifteen men all stopped existing at the same moment.

  There was no explosion, no sickening sound of life being extinguished, and no cries of anguish. She had done what she had to do, in the way that left her with the least amount of remorse. Now there was nothing—nothing but flowing grass, a low cliff, and a sea of water stretching off into the horizon.

  CHAPTER 9

  All three were subdued as they got ready to depart. Raul cleared the debris from the explosion out of his car as Willow and Elizabeth said their good-byes. Willow hugged Elizabeth and whispered in her ear, “Take care. This one,” she nodded toward Raul, “is going to take some watching. He’s just a little too,” she paused in thought, “exuberant to be altogether safe.” She then blew Raul a kiss that he returned with a dignified bow. Mounting her wooden pole, she headed to Finland.

  Elizabeth knew Willow was right. Working with the Lantian
looked like it could present some problems. He was, at one time, a great magician, but that was a million years ago. In many ways, as with that binding spell, he was a little rusty. Elizabeth wondered if she would have to be on guard the whole time she was working with him or if she could count on him having her back if she needed it.

  Still, his Packard was an improvement when it came to traveling inconspicuously. Manned flight had only been around for a bit over a hundred years, but as Elizabeth was never in one time period for long, she hadn’t yet gotten around to acquiring transportation that looked traditional but would also be multifunctional. A broom or stick had always done the job for her. The drawback to that was that she had to be on her guard the entire flight. The last thing she or any of her brethren needed was for someone to see a woman flying across the moon on a broom.

  “I like your car,” she offered as a way of breaking the uncomfortable silence.

  “Sorry about messing up back there,” Raul, who hadn’t said a word since the Packard took to the sky, offered.

  “With the war that is coming, their fate was probably set long before they ran into us. We just hurried them along.”

  “I suppose you’re right. Even so—”

  “I feel the same. No good comes from killing the defenseless. I’m afraid it will take some time for me to come to terms with this,” Elizabeth, not wanting to dwell on the deplorable situation that had gotten out of her control, cut the magician short. “So tell me about this person I’m supposed to be the compliment of.”

  “He’s young,” Raul began as the Packard streaked across the heavens. “I’d say maybe thirty. But don’t let his age fool you.”

  “You do know that, if you put my years one directly behind the next, they wouldn’t add up to very much?”

  “I suspected,” Raul admitted. “But then your reputation has grown for the past two hundred years. For you, my dear, time doesn’t apply.”