Authors: Richard Jackson
I smile, resisting the urge to slip my arm around her. “Neither do I. The one that does isn’t speaking to me right now.”
Marino nods, perhaps hearing something in my voice. She murmurs “Thank you.”
We stand there as the stars flee the dawn, enjoying what could be a romantic moment. Her lips are dangerously close and like I fool I don’t take advantage of the situation. I’m as human as the next person but I just can’t do it. It wouldn’t be fair to her or Kara, no matter how tempting. Instead, we just enjoy the sunrise and each others company.
Chapter Twenty
Teachers and professors are a strange and wonderful lot. I don’t mean the ones who see it as just another job. I’m talking about the dedicated ones. The rare ones you remember years later because of the lessons they taught you, even the ones not part of the curriculum. My physics teacher was one of those individuals. He was a man of science who still had the passion of an explorer and the soul of a philosopher. His lessons were eye opening. You always left his class thinking, not just about science but about life and the way things worked. If he had a religion, it was education. He saw it as his duty to teach his students not only the subject matter but how to learn on their own. On the first day of class, he gave us all a warning. A closed mind, whether it’s yours or someone else’s is a dangerous thing. It breeds intolerance and makes you unreceptive to new ideas. In his opinion, it has led to more trouble than anything else in this day and age. That sounded pretty accurate to me especially now. An open mind is a prerequisite in my line of work. It also fits with my style. I like to look at things from different angles. Sometimes I can see things from someone else’s point of view. It’s helped me solve a lot of problems and avoid potential trouble. That’s not to say I don’t have my stubborn moments but I try to be flexible and leave room for being wrong.
Being a teacher is a new role for me. Scott or Sol could probably do a better job at it than me but it’s not their responsibility. I took it upon myself to re-introduce Jennifer to the supernatural. I can’t just let her stumble along blindly or foist her off on someone else. It wouldn’t be right. So I struggle to pass on the lessons I learned while trying not to bore the hell out of her. It helps that I enjoy spending time with Jennifer. She’s a fast learner and always full of questions. Later when she is ready to learn actual magic, I’ll see that she gets a good teacher. For now, she’s my responsibility.
Tonight, there isn’t much to talk about except magic. Our efforts to track down Meredith have been fruitless. I’m about to make myself a drink when Jennifer brings up the Bloodstone.
“You never told me how you got the ring from Meredith.”
“I didn’t. It just appeared on my desk.”
Jennifer is about to say, “That’s impossible.” Instead, she just smiles ruefully. Her world has gotten a bit more complicated now that magic is a part of it. It will take some time for her to make the adjustment.
“There is had to be a reason someone sent you the ring.” She says.
Jennifer has made a lot of progress over the last week. She thinks someone must have used magic to take the ring from Meredith and send it to me. There is another possibility.
“It could have come to me on its own. The Bloodstone might be attuned to me. I was told no one would be able to use it but me if that happened.”
“Where did you get it from anyway?”
“It’s a long story.” I say.
“Aren’t they all?” she replies.
***
As a child, I never spent as much time in Van Cortlandt Park as I would have liked. Even though it was in the same borough, it was far enough away to make travel there inconvenient. It wasn’t the largest or most famous park in the city. It didn’t need those honors. From its winding forested trails to its wide open fields, Van Cortlandt Park is a place of marvels. You never had to look hard to find something to do, especially at this time of year. It’s the end of spring and the beginning of summer. On a nearby field, the Big Apple Circus is putting up their big top and preparing to entertain the masses. I keep promising myself to catch their show. Sadly, it’s one of those promises I always break. As we leave the parade grounds behind, Kara’s thoughts touch me across the link bringing a smile to my face.
“
You’re in a good mood.
”
“
Why shouldn’t I be in one? Things have been going our way. I’m doing okay in my new line of work. I got to save a damsel in distress. What could go wrong?
”
She doesn’t reply immediately. We both know I got lucky that time. It could have been a lot worse if Hagan wasn’t there. The bouncer at the Jesse James and self proclaimed immortal drew a lot of fire. Together, we managed to solve Wendy’s little stalker problem. If I had been there by myself, I would most likely be dead. I have no illusions about my ability to fight off a bar full of people looking to rip me apart. Since that night, I have been a bit more careful as I learned the trade. There was a lot to pick up. Even though Kara won’t say it, she thinks I am making excellent progress.
“
Yes but don’t let it go to your head.
”
I nod. One of the leading causes of death in this business besides blind stupidity is overconfidence. It’s why Sol asked me to accompany Timothy on this little gig. Sol didn’t get the title “Solomon the Wise” because he took unnecessary chances. It’s his knowledge that comes from experience which makes him a master at his craft. Sometimes I take it for granted. He’s my friend first and sorcerer second. Today, I am on Sol’s payroll. My partner has more experience than me as a paranormal investigator but he lacks my little talent not to mention Kara brilliant insight and welcome companionship.
“
Flatterer.
”
I am about to reply to Kara when Timothy ruins the moment by speaking. It’s not what he says but how he says it.
“Let me handle this, Count.”
I don’t know what he thinks I’m here for but it’s not to take orders. Maybe he thinks, I’ll just slow him down or cramp his style. Either way, I’m not having it.
“Yes massa. I’s follow your lead massa.”
“Are you trying to be funny?” he asks.
“You’re quick, I like that.”
Kara chuckles softly. “
One of these days, we’ll have to work on your people skills.
”
Timothy frowns as he turns to face me. “Look, I’m allowing you to tag along as a favor to my employers.”
“And here I thought it was because your employers wanted you to have some backup. Let’s just get this over with. I’ll follow your lead but keep the orders to a minimum.”
Timothy mutters something too quiet for me to catch. It is enough to dispel Kara’s good humor.
“
I don’t like or trust him
” Kara says.
“
Neither does Sol. That’s why we’re here.
”
What I get in return is the equivalent of a mental nod. “
Just be careful. He doesn’t care about you.
”
“
I would be worried if he did.
”
“
That’s not funny. You know what I mean.
”
“
Yeah, I do.
”
I give Timothy the once over again. He seems like an okay guy but I don’t think we will ever be buddy buddy. He was dead set against me accompanying him. It couldn’t have been about the money. Hell, I could care less about it. I’m here because Sol asked me to be. More importantly, I wanted to see this through. When I helped out Wendy with her stalker, I stumbled onto a much bigger situation. Her stalker was using a powerful magic item to try and charm her. He wasn’t the only one, weeks later another item turned up in the hands of a cat burglar. Contrary to popular belief, powerful magic items aren’t all that common.
There are three classes of magic items. The first is used by spell caster to help them work magic. They can take many forms though a majority resembles your stereotypical magic wands and staves of power. The second are those items enchanted to work a particular effect. Potions and charms fall into this category and like the first type their form can vary. I’ve seen gems that hold a spell and scrolls that could be read to produce a magical effect. In these cases, the magic can only be used once before the item is either consumed or drained of power. I like to call the last type, Class Three. These items are imbued with a lasting or permanent effect. Their powers and strength vary. Some, like Excalibur, are the stuff of legends. To make these types of items requires a lot of time, effort and skill. With magic the way it is, only he most skilled practitioners can create such items. Even so, none can match the power of the items created in the early days. Any truly powerful item you come across was more than likely made a very long time ago. It was these items that were turning up. When these things turn up in such quantities, people get a little concerned especially when they start to fall into what Sol likes to call “the wrong hands”. That usually means anyone’s hands but his and a few close personal friends. In this case, I found myself agreeing with him.
As Sol searched for where these items were coming from, I worked with Hagan and others in the business to confiscate the more dangerous and powerful items. After weeks of hard work, we had done just that. The only thing left to do was to check out the place where they had all come from. I would have felt better with Hagan here but as he put it, there was no glory to be had crawling around in a cave. Instead, Timothy was hired by one of Sol’s associates to take Hagan’s place.
The park is far from being unexplored but there are parts of it that see little if any traffic. Out here on the back trails and in the hills, it feels like you’re no longer in the city. It was here I would hike and explore. All the while, I imagined I was some brave explorer seeking adventure in some far away land. Occasionally, the city sounds or noise from the highway would dispel the illusion as I hiked through the park. Today, I am back on those same trails with Timothy. This is my turf even though I have not been here in years. It takes us some time to find the trail marker we are looking for and to get our bearings. From there, it’s a long walk to the edge of the park that borders Westchester County and Yonkers. Here, the park takes on a different feel. The forested trail becomes more ominous while the hills seem more daunting. Garbage blown in from elsewhere litters the trails.
This is a part of the park I never visited in my youth and for good reason. There is danger here. Back then, it was only muggers and pedophiles I feared but now I can sense something else. Kara and Timothy feel it too.
“Maybe, it was a good idea to bring backup after all” Timothy says.
Kara’s words mirror my own thoughts. “
I wish we hadn’t come here.
”
I frown as we find the cave. It’s not much more than a jagged crack in the side of a rock face. Uninviting and hazardous, it is not the sort of place I would enter if given a choice in the matter.
“Remember what I said about following your lead? That means you get to go in first.” I say.
“Thanks.”
Timothy doesn’t bother trying to hide the sarcasm. I can’t blame him but I am not about to go in there first. If you want to play leader, you should lead from the front. At least, we both came prepared. With flashlights in hand, we move closer to the crack. Our feeble lights do little to pierce the gloom and doom that awaits us. One of these days, I’m going to have to invest in a Maglite and some glow sticks for this sort of occasion.
Timothy navigates the jagged opening, careful to avoid the sharp rocks tailor made to snag on his clothing or rip skin.
“Any idea what’s inside?”
The question is meant for Kara but I get an answer from Timothy that doesn’t help my piece of mind.
“Trouble. You better get in here.”
I turn sideways to make entering a bit easier. It’s still slow going. When I step into the cavern, I wish I had remained outside. It’s bigger than I thought it would be, extending down and into the hill. Without a doubt, this place is the source of the magic items we have been recovering. The broken coffers and open chests don’t seem nearly as important as the scorch marks on the floor and walls. The charred remains off to the side of the opening is nothing more than a pile of blacken bones twisted in a pattern that only dying in agony can produce. I nearly miss the pedestal of black stone that sits at the far end of the cave. A golden ring catches the light calling attention to itself amid the darkness. Timothy is already crossing the room to the ring while I stare at the corpse. It’s not the first time I have seen death. It’s something I hope I will never get used to. What caused this? Who is Mr. Crispy? Kara’s warning answers one of my questions.
“
There is a spirit here
” she says.
“
Like a ghost?
”
“
Maybe. There are many different kinds of spirits.
”
If a spirit did all of this, it is definitely not friendly. Timothy is almost to the pedestal when I call out.
“Wait. There is a spirit here.”
“Good” He says.
“Good?”
“Use your head, Count. It’s probably a ghost. If we can get it to manifest, we can learn about this place.”
Kara is shocked into silence while I just stare at Timothy as if he had announced his intentions to go screw my sister. His line of reasoning is flawed. If he is correct, it would be a fast and easy way to get some answers but that is a big if. The spirit could be the ghost of Mr. Crispy or something else. It also assumes the spirit is willing and able to communicate with us.
“
I think we are dealing with an elemental or worse.
”
“
Worse?
”
“
A demon.
”
“Whoa! Whoa! And whoa!!”
My sudden exclamation and justified panic doesn’t stop Timothy. He’s made up his mind and set his course. He doesn’t quite shout but he speaks loud enough to be heard throughout the cave.