Friday Nightmares

by Corey Edward

  “I am starting to lose my patience.” He raised his staff into the air and brought it down, causing another mini-quake. “Do you not realize you’ve already lost, boy? I have raised the dead of this city, thousands upon thousands of them. If every one of them bites and kills even just one human, my army will multiply, and multiply, until they overrun this world. A world by Spellcrafters, for Spellcrafters. How could you not want that?”

  “You know what I want? I want you to shut up. Ignius!”

  The fireball roared from my hand and shot his way. Narlothotep jumped into the air, higher than any mortal ever could, and landed right in front of my face as the fire whizzed past him and ignited his black sarcophagus.

  I missed.

  But, wait… no.

  No, I didn’t?

  Flames engulfed Narlothotep’s entire bony body even though no fire had touched him. He wheeled around and waved a hand in the air, extinguishing the fire on the sarcophagus and thereby himself.

  It reminded me of what had happened when I had torched the Grimoire.

  Maybe it reminded me of that a little too much.

  But what did it mean?

  What could it mean?

  No time to wonder. He swept his hand at me and sent Rusty and I flying, shooting us so high that we almost touched the glass ceiling of the atrium. The fall alone would be enough to kill.

  I had about ten seconds to react before we hit the ground.

  “Descendium,” I shouted, taking control of our trajectory. Rather than plummet forty feet, we instead floated gently down to the floor. We landed upright, mere inches away from Narlothotep.

  “So this is how it will be, Henry Candle,” he said. “Prepare to die. Nixis Livi-”

  “Wait,” I shouted, holding out my hand and stopping him before he could cast the death curse. “Narlothotep Senebkay, I challenge you to a magic duel to the death!”

  There it was, my last-ditch, desperate effort in the face of certain defeat.

  It was impossible for a Spellcrafter to refuse a duel when challenged by another Spellcrafter. We were bound by magic itself to answer the challenge, and there were certain rules that we had to abide by- namely, that two Spellcrafters entered and only one left. I had never dueled anyone before, though my father was an expert at them and taught me the proper procedures.

  For many Spellcrafters, it was the final delay of the inevitable. It meant you had already lost. And Narlothotep clearly saw through my ruse for what it was.

  “Ah,” he said, lowering his hands. “A duel! I am so glad you called one. It’s been eons.”

  “Same,” I lied.

  “Well, then. No need to review the rules, since we’re both professionals. Let’s begin, shall we?”

  He snapped his fingers and raised a ring of blue light around the two of us. Rusty skittered out of the ring. Only two Spellcrafters were allowed inside of it. Nobody, not even a Familiar, could interfere.

  Please, Dad, I thought. I need you now.

  I’m here, kid, came his voice from within my mind. You got this. Just focus. Focus and remember your bloodline. First thing you’re going to do is conjure your ancestors to lend you their powers in battle. He’ll let you go first since you’re younger.

  And then what?

  And then you’ll both raise your barriers and take turns casting spells until the other is dead.

  Great. Just great. What had I gotten myself into now?

  “You may begin, Henry Candle,” said Narlothotep, his revolting mouth widening into a grin. “Since you’ve had so many of them, you should know what to do.”

  Luckily, I did.

  I raised my hands into the air and closed my eyes. I thought of the great wizards that had come before me and fought the forces of darkness just as I was doing now. I reached into the Realms beyond, conjuring their power and their strength, letting their Mana combine with mine.

  “I call upon the spirits of the Candle ancestors,” I said. “Wizards of the light, progenitors of my bloodline. Aid me in this duel. Help me defeat the undead scourge. So mote it be!”

  What felt like hundreds of unknown faces flashed in front of my closed eyelids. I was seeing the Candle wizards from beyond the grave as they lent me their magic. The last face I saw was the face of my father. Unlike the others, his didn’t fade away.

  I opened my eyes and looked at Narlothotep.

  I had conjured my ancestors.

  Now, it was his turn.

  He raised his staff high into the air and balled his other hand into a fist. I felt a rush of the darkest energy imaginable, like midnight itself condensed into one single force. I felt the light of my ancestors within me, and used it to shield myself against the darkness.

  “Pharaohs of Egypt,” Narlothotep boomed. “Mighty Spellcrafters of the Senebkay line. I implore you! Help me rain hellfire down on this pathetic teenaged wizard! Lend me thy strength!”

  He raised his staff and brought it down onto the museum floor. The dark wave almost knocked me back; if I didn’t have the Candle ancestors on my side, it would’ve sent me right onto the floor. But I held my ground, and that was something.

  Not bad, kid, came my father’s voice. Next, you’re going to raise a barrier. You’ve always been good as hell at those. Pull upon the Mana of our ancestors.

  I didn’t know about that, but he was the expert. I already had a faint barrier raised, but I could feel more Mana within me than I’d ever felt before. I dug into that and used it to fortify the barrier, strengthening it until it felt like it could withstand a tank.

  I knew that Narlothotep had strengthened his, too.

  All it meant was that I’d have to be stronger.

  Let’s do this, Dad said. Start with an Ignius Maxima. Set his shit on fire just like you did those zombies.

  That, I could do.

  I raised my hands and channeled my plentiful reserves of Mana. I felt power like I’d never had before- so much power it nearly melted me. I pulled into that ancient strength of Candle wizards of old, and summoned it into my soul-

  “Ignius maxima!” I shouted, and threw a fireball the size of a car right at Narlothotep. It landed against his invisible barrier and dented it, creating a crack that was much smaller than I had hoped, but still sizable.

  Just the first round, Dad thought. Don’t worry. Brace yourself for whatever he’s going to fire back.

  Narlothotep raised his staff into the air and summoned up a cloud of dark energy. Then, he slammed his staff onto the ground and congealed the black vortex into the shape of a giant cobra-head with pointed, venom-drenched fangs.

  “Serpentius!” he roared, and the cobra struck, sinking its fangs into the top of my barrier. Though it didn’t shatter, the holes he left were much greater than my own dent. I’d been bruised, but I wasn’t defeated yet. Couldn’t let myself be defeated.

  Now, it was my turn.

  He’s a Lich, Dad said. He’s weak to light magic. Channel some and fire it at his dead ass. Try the spell “Lumixis’.”

  I did as my father said, pulling the Mana into my veins again. I thought of the brightest, most brilliantly sunny day I’ve ever seen and summoned it into my hands. I imagined it collecting into a single ball of power-

  “Lumixis!” I shouted, and let the ball loose.

  It flew at the pharaoh and dented the barrier so deep it almost reached him. He snarled and recoiled. It felt like a small victory, and I smiled, feeling empowered by it.

  Nice work, kid, he said. Almost there. One or two more blows and it should give.

  But now it was his turn. I’d have to wait to see what else he’d throw at me this time. I braced myself, commanding my heart to slow down, as he again called darkness to his being.

  A flurry of pitch-black lightning came to the snake-head of his staff, causing its eyes to glow purple. He let it swim there and then raised it behind him and swung, shouting “DUMIXIS!” as he sent the lightning hurtling toward me.

  The cracks created by the serpent onl
y grew larger, wider. Now it looked like a dashboard someone had dropped a brick onto; most of it was distorted and severely weakened. Just like Narlothotep’s, it had only one good spell before it caved and I was exposed.

  I had to beat him this time. I had to make this spell the greatest I’d ever cast. If I didn’t, it’d be my head on the chopping block. All of Boston was riding on me. Rather than let that freak me out, I let it empower me.

  Think of a wrecking ball this time, Dad suggested. A wrecking ball made of all the most powerful light magic imaginable. Let it break through his barrier and knock him back into ancient times. You can do it. Go!

  I tried channeling my magic once again. Tried calling forth the power of the Candle wizard ancestors to blow a hole right in Narlothotep. But nothing happened.

  Actually, worse than nothing happened. The powerful Mana of the ancestors abandoned me entirely, vanishing into emptiness.

  And that wasn’t all.

  My own Mana left me, too. I felt it drain away like my very own soul had left my body. All I could feel was darkness: oppressive, overbearing, defeating.

  What? said Dad. No, it can’t be. Not yet. Not-

  The blue lines of the dueling arena vanished and so did my barrier. I felt empty, hollowed-out, and cold. I had never felt this way. Not even in my darkest hour.

  “What the-” I said.

  Shit, Dad thought, and then he was gone.

  That’s when I realized what had happened.

  It was midnight.

  November 1st.

  I failed to write my name on the desk in time for the deadline, and my magic was gone right when I needed it the most.

  I was Spellcrafter no longer.

  I fell backward from the shock alone, tripping over Rusty as I hit the ground and banged my head on the steps. No longer could we understand one another; now, he was just like any other dog, frantic and whimpering and confused. He ran off into a nearby hallway, cowering and yelping.

  “No,” I said, though I wasn’t sure who I was talking to. My dad’s voice was no longer there. My head was throbbing. “No, I accept; I want to take over Candle Paranormal Investigations, I-”

  Narlothotep only laughed. He folded his hand as if clutching onto a throat and I rose into the air, choking and sputtering, helpless against his immense magical power. “A Spellcrafter turned human,” he said. “Now, that is the joke of the millennia. And how fitting, for you. The weakest of the Candle wizards is defeated.”

  He raised me higher into the air. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t-

  “Let me show you what happens to my human subjects when they defy their king,” he boomed. “I will enjoy slowly squeezing the life out of you. And then, I shall do the same to your pug, and your grandparents, and finally, your friends.”

  I turned to look at Rusty as he vanished down the hallway in a panic. I couldn’t even tell what he was feeling; couldn’t even let him know how much I loved him. How sorry I was that I failed. How-

  “HENRY!”

  Enisa’s voice shattered the tension and so did the arrow that went whizzing past me and embedded into Narlothotep’s cheek. The Black Pharaoh roared and dropped me to the ground, leaving me sputtering and gasping for oxygen.

  Enisa, Frankie, and Molly came running full-speed-ahead into the atrium. Frankie had his Shades, Molly’s flying purse was overflowing with spell spheres, and Enisa held a real bow.

  Frankie grabbed a spell sphere out of Molly’s purse and hurled it at Narlothotep. It exploded in a cloud of purple smoke. Narlothotep squealed like a pig and fell backward, clutching at his face as its magic burned flesh.

  “H-how did you-” I asked as Enisa helped me to my feet. “How did you get here?”

  “Molly teleported us,” she said. “We had a feeling you’d be here. I hope we aren’t too late.”

  My face fell. “It’s after midnight. My magic’s gone. All gone.”

  “No, it’s not,” said Enisa, shaking her head. “Your magic runs deeper than that. Even deeper than your bloodline.”

  She was wrong. My magic was of the Candle line, and it was no more, and it was hopeless...

  Narlothotep waved his hand and an entire horde of zombies came bursting into the atrium, moaning and groaning, arms outstretched. There had to be hundreds of them, moving forward like a brainless army, gnashing their maggoty teeth. If they reached us… we’d all be dead.

  “You guys have to run,” I said. I was in so much pain that it was hard to even stand. “Please, hurry — if they bite you...”

  “We’re not going anywhere,” said Molly. “I’ll hold them off while you get your magic back. Enisa, Frankie, join me. Quick!”

  She held out her hands, which Frankie and Enisa both grabbed. She shut her eyes and began to chant, raising a huge barrier between us, the zombies and Narlothotep.

  But there were too many. They’d soon be overrun.

  Was it really over?

  Get your magic back, Molly had said.

  But how?

  Listen, kid, came my dad’s voice, shoving its way into my head. There may still be a way out of this. Sometimes a Spellcrafter can make two Phylacteries to contain their soul after death. The Grimoire was one. The other-

  Is the sarcophagus, I finished. I figured as much when I accidentally set it on fire and he caught fire, too. But what can I do about it now?

  More than you think. Your magic is greater than blood. Your magic comes from within.

  I don’t understand.

  You will. Be you. Be Henry. That’s where your deepest strength comes from.

  He left me with that. His spirit faded away and he abandoned me once again, maybe for the last time.

  And then, I heard a bark coming from the corridor behind me.

  A voice, too.

  “Henry!”

  Grams.

  Rusty hadn’t abandoned me at all. He was back, and with him were my grandparents. Gramps was pushing himself forward in a wheelchair and Grams had a nasty purple bruise on her face, but they were otherwise fine. That alone was enough to lift my spirits.

  “Grams,” I said, running over to them and wrapping them into a hug. “Gramps! You’re okay.”

  “And you are, too,” said Grams. “You came to save us, Henry. I’m so proud of you.”

  “You shouldn’t be. My magic… it’s gone. I’m powerless.”

  “Powerless? Far from it,” said Gramps. “Listen to me, Captain. You’re not magic because you’re a Candle. You’re magic because you’re Henry.”

  “Not true. I’m nothing special. I never was.”

  “To us, you’re more than special,” said Grams. “And what we share is more powerful than any spell any witch or wizard could even dream of casting. I don’t believe in magic, but I do believe in that. So let us be your power. Grab our hands. Grab them now!”

  I grabbed their hands as Molly’s barrier started to crack and she fell to her knees.

  In just a second, the barrier would be broken.

  All would be lost.

  But maybe not everything.

  I thought of my grandparents. I pictured the love we shared, and the warm memories we’d made, and how they accepted every last awkward, misplaced hair on my head. I thought of cinnamon candy and warm fires and Christmas Eve and pancakes in the morning.

  I thought of us.

  The most magic I ever felt came from two humans.

  Maybe magic was everywhere, in everyone, Spellcrafter or not.

  Maybe the strongest magic was the kind that could be cast without a single incantation.

  With those thoughts came the most powerful rush of Mana I’d ever experienced in my life.

  It wasn’t the Mana of the Candle wizards.

  It was the Mana of courage, the strongest force in the entire Cosmos.

  And it was all mine.

  I channeled all of it into my veins, gathering as much of it as I could muster. I let my grandparents and Rusty strengthen me as I conjured u
p a spell strong enough to detonate a sarcophagus and send an evil wizard straight to Hell.

  I held up my hands.

  I knew the words.

  They came naturally.

  “IGNIUS SUPRIMA!” I shouted.

  ~&~

  First, there was nothing: only a dark pharaoh and his undead army marching forth.

  Then there was a light.

  A brilliant, warm, white light that started deep in my chest, right where my heart was, but deeper still. It was the sort of primordial light that was present when the Cosmos was breathed into being, Mana in its purest, most powerful form. I felt it bubble up inside of me until it was almost too much to contain, filling my soul and lifting me off the ground.

  Then the light exploded from inside of me, filling the entire museum with blinding flames of pure Mana. There was almost nothing it didn’t touch. I suspected, in fact, that it probably reached all of Boston and chased away the dark energy that had risen along with Narlothotep.

  It was like a nuclear explosion of the soul. The zombies evaporated on contact. Narlothotep froze, face twisting into a look of fear for the first time since we met. And the black sarcophagus that was his last true phylactery detonated, shattering into a million pieces along with his blackened soul.

  It was the strongest spell I’d ever Crafted.

  And this time, it was all my own.

  ~&~

  The light faded away and so did everything else. I fell to my feet, letting go of my grandparents’ hands as I let the light return into my soul. I was a new person, empowered once more- and the best part was, my connection with Rusty had returned. I could feel his happiness, his relief, and his love. My Familiar jumped at me, tail wagging, overjoyed that we could once again understand what the other was thinking. He was carrying something in his mouth, like a piece of paper.

  It was a note.

  I LOVE YOU, KID. I’M SORRY.

  I slipped it into my pocket and nodded, understanding.

  “I love you, too, Dad,” I whispered. “And I forgive you.”

  I hope he heard me, wherever he was.

  The lights came on and my friends ran toward me, wrapping me up in a giant hug. Electricity had returned to the city, lifting the darkness. We were all together once again, and we were all we needed.