by R. J. Wolf
It lasted for more than twenty minutes and when the wave of pain finally passed, Fostu could do little more than blink. Voices whispered to him from the shadows but he could no longer make them out. He was fading, fading into the nothing he’d come from.
Quivering, Fostu took his final breath and his eyes rolled into his head. A golden mist seeped from his lips and swirled into the air. As it did, his body suddenly began to decay. His skin dried and flaked away, his limbs shriveled like prunes, and in a matter of seconds he was nothing more than a small pile of ash.
The mist lingered above Fostu’s remains for a moment. It was a dense vapor that moved like it had a conscious. It recognized the shadow, and the shadow recognized it.
“Find me another,” the shadow called in a deep voice. “One that will prove worthy, one that the psychic will trust.” His words echoed down the alley and rattled the walls. There was a sudden flash then the shadow and the mist vanished and the street lights came back on.
CHAPTER 5
A BROKEN PUZZLE
Eric yawned and rubbed his eyes. The Troubled 13 ballroom wasn’t especially comfortable, but something about the room made Eric long for sleep. The walls were a dull shade of blue that matched the plush furniture. The floor was made from Brazilian oak and a small fire crackled behind an ivory mantel the shape of a goat’s head.
Sulking, Gary wiped blood away from his forehead and grunted. Eric gave him a quick glance then turned toward the door as it swung open.
“I apologize again, Mr. Strange and Mr. Abbott,” Safron said as he held out a cup of elixir. “It is known by all that violence within these walls is prohibited. Your would-be assassin will be dealt with.”
Gary waved his hand. “No thank you, Safron. I’ll heal just fine.”
“Apologies, this isn’t for the body, but the mind. They say there is nothing that can’t be forgotten with the right amount of fae spirits. This particular cup has double the recommended portion.”
Gary smiled and eagerly grabbed the drink. He tipped it to his lips then sighed in satisfaction. “Delightful, Safron,” he beamed. “Do you have any more?”
“How do you plan to find him?” Eric asked and scowled at Gary.
“We have our ways. Networks, eyes all around the city. Let me assuage your worries, Mr. Strange, justice will be delivered…swiftly.”
“If…when you do catch him. I’d like to question him first, if that’s okay?”
“Normally that would not be our way, but I think you’ve earned that much.”
Eric shook Safron’s hand then turned to Gary. “I’m exhausted. I’m going to sleep. We need to talk about this tomorrow.”
Gary nodded as he gulped more from the cup. His eyes glossed over, and he fell back onto a couch and crossed his legs. “Tomorrow, Eric. We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”
Eric half-smiled then headed for the elevators. Ten minutes later he was laying in an oversized king watching the blades of the fan spin into a blur. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and he growled.
He still hadn’t grown accustomed to the heat. They’d been in California for three months and now that summer was finally winding down, he was looking forward to cooler weather. But so far, the heat was still unrelenting and even at night the desert felt like an inferno.
Eric suspected it was because of the proximity to hell. He could explain a lot of things with that theory. His mood, the voices, the limitless power he was able to tap into. He was more than a psychic now, but at times he felt like his body was being hi-jacked.
“Hello?” Eric whispered. He waited, expecting one of the voices in his head to answer him. “Are you in there?” The only reply was the sound of the fan as it wobbled from the ceiling.
“Piece of crap,” Eric seethed through clenched teeth.
The fan had been the object of Eric’s attention for the last hour as he tossed and turned. Pulling a pillow over his head, he rolled onto his stomach and slammed his eyes shut. He was exhausted but his mind was spinning with questions. He hadn’t unraveled his own truth and now he had a druid assassin to figure out.
Eventually, his exhaustion won out and he slipped into unconsciousness. His thoughts drifted to the man that attacked him and the strange connection he felt. He could see the man’s pale face in his mind. He could feel the stare of his gleaming, red eyes and hear the spells falling from his slithering tongue.
Fostu, the druid. Who was he and why did he want Eric dead? Questions like that cluttered Eric’s mind throughout the night and sent his dreams tumbling into an abyss. Dark memories of places he vaguely remembered and whispers of evil. He reached out to them but the vision faded and Anna stepped into view.
She was wearing a white gown that was shredded at the bottom. Her hair swayed like she was under water and her skin glowed from the flames behind her, illuminating her silhouette.
“Eric,” she called out.
“Anna,” he replied with a wide grin.
“Eric, you have to be careful. They’re coming for you.”
“Who?”
“They want to bring him back. They’ll do anything to bring him back.”
“Who?” Eric asked in bewilderment.
Anna reached out to him. Eric stretched his arms forward but just before they made contact, Eric was jolted awake. The shrill from his cell phone stabbed his ears and he rolled over and slapped it off the table. Wincing, he held his hands up as the sun spit blinding light through the slit in the blinds. Eight o’clock had arrived with vengeance and he could’ve sworn he’d just closed his eyes.
Rolling over, Eric thought back to his dreams but every image was fleeting. He barely remembered seeing Anna, much less what she had told him. But it was always like that, dreams that quickly faded, leaving Eric with a nagging feeling that he was missing something.
With an exhausted sigh, he forced himself out of bed and got dressed. As he pulled on a new t-shirt he stared down at the spot where he’d been stabbed. There wasn’t so much as a mark on him and the only evidence was his blood-soaked jeans lying in the corner.
He rubbed his hand over his abdomen and his mind flashed back. The darkness inside of him riled and he swallowed it down along with his memories of that night. Crossing the room, he opened the nightstand and pulled out Brittles’ amulet.
“Maybe I need you more than I thought,” he mumbled and slipped the charm over his neck, vowing to never take it back off.
He rubbed his thumb across the back of the medallion and it vibrated at his touch. He tucked it underneath his shirt and shuddered even though the metal felt warm against his skin.
“Eric!” Gary’s voice boomed from outside his door as a clumsy knock echoed through the walls.
“Jesus!” Eric replied. “Calm down.”
He swung the door open and Gary rushed inside, holding Neiman’s bag of diamonds. He dropped it onto the bed then started pacing back and forth.
It was obvious, he hadn’t slept at all. His hair was wilder than normal, like he’d been electrocuted by a blow dryer. His eyes were bloodshot and beady, the crackled lines spiraling from his blue pupils like arms reaching out for help. He wore the same clothes as the night before and smelled like a dumpster behind a biker bar.
“Gary?” Eric said as he soaked in his tousled appearance.
“I’ve been thinking, thinking a lot, thinking about things,” Gary rattled off like a machine gun. “Who could it be? Why would they do it? What do they want?”
Eric grabbed him and gave him a gentle shake. “What is wrong with you?”
“Me?! Someone tried to kill you last night! Not just someone, but, but a druid! Oh, and don’t forget they ran Neiman over in broad daylight.”
“That’s not connected.”
“Oh, it’s not? It’s no coincidence, Eric. It’s all connected, everything is connected. Can’t you see it?”
Eric rubbed his face and took a deep breath. He wasn’t quite ready to deal with conspiracy theories so early in the morning. “S
low down, Gary. What the hell got into you? Last night you didn’t seem too concerned.”
“I did some digging…found out a few things about that symbol on his leg. That’s the mark of the brotherhood.”
“The who?”
“The brotherhood, an ancient druid order. The last time they were relevant was during the signing of the accords.”
“Okay…so what?” Eric shrugged. “Some old, weird guys, with brands and fancy knives want to kill me. What’s new? They might as well get in line.” Eric said, almost believing his bluff. He was terrified but didn’t want Gary to know.
“Are you insane, Eric? These aren’t just old, weird guys. These are druids. This isn’t your run of the mill spellcaster, they draw their power from the earth.”
Eric gave him a blank stare. “So, what does any of this mean?”
“It means the commission has lost its mind is what it means?”
“The commission? I thought this was druids?”
“They’ve employed the help of druids before. So, why not now? I think we’re closing in on something that they don’t want us finding out. I think the Oracle was right.”
“And the diamonds?”
“That’s just it. I didn’t tell you this before, but Noll had me bring a case of diamonds in at the fae port. Like I said, all of this is connected. Plus…and this is gonna shock you, but I’m pretty sure those were commission guys that grabbed me back in New York and they wanted to know about the diamonds. They kept asking me about them.”
“What’s so special about these diamonds?”
“Stay away from them, Eric. They’re pure evil. They come from a volcano in hell…terrible things,” Gary finished and lowered his head.
“You brought the damn things in my room, Gary.” Eric looked back at the bed and focused on the bag. He shivered, trying to ignore the hushed voices that called from inside. His hand reached out without him thinking and he yanked it back then turned and walked off.
Gary raised an eyebrow and pulled his cell phone out. Clearing his throat, he punched in a series of numbers and sat down.
“Noll,” he said in a tired voice.
“Gary? What are you calling me for?”
“I need to know about those diamonds, Noll. Who wanted them and why?”
“What diamonds?”
“Don’t play stupid, Noll. You know what diamonds.”
“Why are you bringing this back up? I thought we were square, Gary?” Noll whispered.
“Noll! Just tell me damn it!”
“This isn’t a good time, Gary. Zoey will be back any minute and she’s pretty upset with me about the whole diamond ordeal already.”
“Noll! People are dying out here!”
“Okay…okay. I don’t know who wanted them. The guy was mysterious, some big, clumsy thing…probably part giant. I gave the diamonds to him. I suspected the commission was behind it, but now I’m not so sure.”
“What do you mean you’re not so sure?” Gary asked.
“Hold on. Someone’s at the door, I think Zoey is back.”
Gary grumbled and made an exaggerated moan. He stood up and walked the perimeter of the room as he waited for Noll to return.
“Who is it?” Noll asked to someone on his end.
There was a loud bang then a muffled thump. Footsteps echoed across the floor and the line suddenly went dead.
“Noll! Noll!” Gary screamed.
CHAPTER 6
ALL DEBTS MUST BE PAID
Noll dropped the phone and his mouth fell open. He stumbled backward as a hand closed around his collar and lifted him off his feet.
“Someone’s been talking, Noll.”
“Pongo!” Noll exclaimed. “Never!”
The half-giant pushed Noll into the wall then leaned into his ear. Noll cringed and turned his head away. Pongo’s breath smelled like death and his grip on Noll’s throat was like a pair of plyers.
“Lot of talk about diamonds, Noll. Lot of questions about diamonds, Noll.”
“Pongo, I…I—I have nothing to do with that. I haven’t said a word.”
“We’ll find out. The elves have their ways, Noll, and that’s exactly where we’re headed.”
Noll grabbed Pongo’s wrist and tried to wrestle out of his grip. He squirmed and kicked his tiny legs like a cyclone. Pongo laughed and lifted him higher into the air then slammed him onto the floor. “Get up! Time to take a little drive.”
“Please,” Noll whimpered as he staggered to his feet. He tried to run away, but stumbled and crashed into the coffee table. A cluster of trinkets fell to the ground and he scurried into the kitchen.
“You’re making this harder on yourself. If I have to chase you, Noll, I’m gonna hurt you bad.”
Noll grabbed a bottle of ale from the counter and hurled it at Pongo. “Just leave me alone. I never told, I never told anyone.”
The bottle glanced off Pongo’s head and he grunted. “Enough!” he roared then mumbled a summoning spell and pulled Noll across the living room. Gripping Noll by the arm, he dragged him outside and threw him into the trunk of a black Mercedes. “Just remember, you did this.”
“Please…please,” Noll cried as the lid slammed and he was engulfed in darkness.
“Shut up, Noll. There’s other ways to get you there…and there not as pleasant.” Pongo opened the door and crammed himself behind the steering wheel. The car’s suspension whined as it tried to distribute his weight. He squeezed the steering wheel and grumbled with annoyance. “I gave you your witch, and this is how you treat me? Ungrateful toad!”
Noll sniffled and lowered his voice. Shaking, he crossed his arms and closed his eyes as the car rumbled and they started to move. “I didn’t tell,” he stammered.
The ride was dark and bumpy. Noll spent most of it mumbling to himself or crying for Zoey. Pongo had a reputation for being ruthless and the way he conducted interrogations got him suspended from the commission before. Noll didn’t want to be on the receiving end of any type of questioning.
The car stopped and Noll felt a rush of adrenaline flood his veins and he nearly bit his tongue off. His hands quivered and he squeezed his fists together and braced himself.
“You still alive in there, you little rat?”
“Pongo, Mr. Pongo, I promise you, I didn’t say a word to anyone. This is all some kind of misunderstanding. I did just like you told me.”
The trunk swung open and Noll scampered away. Pongo looked down at him and laughed. “Dwarves,” he mumbled. “Well, get out. You look liked you pissed yourself.”
“Pongo, please.”
“I said get out, Noll.”
Reluctantly, Noll crawled out of the trunk and followed Pongo into a dreary, brick building with no windows. Everything about the place screamed death and as the doors closed behind him, Noll wondered if he’d ever see the outside again.
Inside of the building a rush of cool, moist air drifted in from a vent on the floor. The smell of mildew was thick and the walls were stained with what looked like old blood. Noll cringed and cemented his feet to the floor.
Pongo placed a hand on his shoulder and ushered him down a narrow hallway. He paused at a rusted metal door and whispered something under his breath. The door creaked open and they stepped into a small square room with nothing but a chair in the middle and a lightbulb swinging overhead.
“Have a seat, Noll.” Pongo shoved him forward.
Across the room there was an elf standing in the shadows with his hands folded across his chest. As Noll sat down, the elf slowly moved into the light and grinned. He was thin with long, blonde hair and eyes that glowed like headlights. Like most elves, his age was nearly impossible to judge but he was very powerful, which also meant he was very old.
He scanned Noll with mild interest then turned to face Pongo. Pongo straightened up and cleared his throat.
“Alexander sent me,” the elf said in a nonchalant tone. “Though I can hardly see why. This, this mole is the reason for all of
this?”
“This mole brought the diamonds.”
“I can hear you,” Noll interjected. “And whatever it is that Alexander thinks I did, I can assure you I didn’t.”
“Start with the hair,” Pongo said then turned around and left the room.
Noll stared after him and swallowed. With shaking hands, he turned back to the elf and lowered his head. “Mister…I, I promise you, I did nothing. I didn’t tell anyone. You have to believe me.”
“My name is Cohnal.”
“Cohnal, I didn’t tell anyone. I did just like Pongo told me. I got the diamonds in and I delivered them. I did my job.”
Cohnal smiled and swept his long, golden hair over his shoulder. His white eyes brightened and he started to circle Noll while carving a pattern through the air with his fingers. Suddenly, vines burst through the floor and wrapped around Noll’s wrists and ankles, strapping him to the chair. Noll flinched but knew better than to resist, he’d been treated fairly so far and didn’t want to get on anyone’s bad side.
“You know, they say we are closely related…dwarves and elves. Do you believe that?”
Noll shrugged and turned away.
“When I was young, I used to think it was completely possible. Aside from the obvious,” Cohnal said and rubbed his hand across Noll’s face, shuttering in disgust. “It seemed logical that we shared a common ancestor. We both derive magic from the earth, we both crave power and as your kind slinked away to caves and shadows, mine found solace in the forest and woodlands.”
“Cohnal?” Noll started.
“Not yet,” Cohnal said and waved his index finger from side to side. “As I grew older though, and my powers matured, I came to see your kind for what you were. Cretins, filthy little things that were no more related to elves than vampires. Why the Fae use your kind for their errands, will never make sense to me.”
Cohnal stopped behind Noll and ran his fingers through Noll’s knotted, gray hair. It was long and twisted, fraying at the ends like an old rope. Laughing, Cohnal pulled a dagger from his belt as he wrapped the tattered strands around his hand.
