Broad-Shouldered Curmudgeonry

A Joshua Alexander short story (Number 2)

1

It was a quiet night, quiet week even, until then.

I was relaxing in the comfy chair the evening shift had installed behind the counter. Some film in which some romantic tiff was being played out for an excruciatingly long time adorned the screen. A half-empty packet of cookies sat next to me within arms reach of the remote control.

The place was deserted: it was, after all, a Thursday night. A stack of DVDs that needed filing and which I was doing my best to ignore sat in a ragged pile. An empty cup of tea (my third) was propping a couple of DVDs that would otherwise have fallen down when I'd placed my feet on the counter.

I looked at my watch. Seven minutes to nine. Five minutes until I could reasonably sneak away early.

The bell tinkled and I literally leapt off my feet. The owner has rarely been known to set foot inside the shop outside of his working hours (Sunday and Wednesday 2-6pm) yet even so, I still didn't want him to think I was completely neglecting my job (mostly – no problem. After all, I work in a video shop. It's to rocket science what the alphabet is to Shakespeare).

I looked over at the door, sighed and sat down again.

“Come in, Charlie”

Charlie McIntyre crossed the room in short, nervous paces and full of energy. I hadn't seen Charlie much lately. His dark hair was even longer than usual and hid most of his face. His green baggy jumper just didn't go with his brown cords and his jackboots (hell, even I knew that and I have never opened a fashion magazine) and his old fingerless gloves were even more worn and frayed than I remembered.

“Something up?” I asked, putting the DVDs back in their rightful places “The house hasn't been trashed by ogres again, has it?”

“Not yet” Charlie replied, without humour “But I still have no idea who is after me. It's only a matter of time before they strike again”

I took this comment with a shrug and continued to fill in the store accounts and put my foodstuffs away in the cupboard.

“So what brings you here now then?” I finally asked, turning off the film mid-kiss “It's obviously not to rent a movie for a gore-packed night of horror films”

“I was watching that” Charlie protested “Ah, yeah. I need some help. A dead body turned up on the causeway”

“And aren't the police supposed to deal with it?” I asked

“The police aren't equipped to deal with it” Charlie handed me three photos that had been taken by a Polaroid.

I was nearly sick where I stood. Dear God, it was horrific.

The first picture was of the man's face. Well, what was left of it anyway. Most of the skin had been peeled away, leaving an unrecognisable mess of blood and sinew.

The second photo was equally gruesome. It was a wider shot, this time taking in the man's body as well. His limbs looked to be broken and a series of bites or slashes seemed to have penetrated his torso in a rhythmic manner. I gulped and turned to the last image.

This one had been taken later. A taped outline of the body lay on the ground, surrounded by a tri-layered summoning circle. I was a relative novice at this, but even I could tell that this man had been killed as part of an important and dark ritual.

“Whoever did this did it for power” Charlie gathered up the photos and tucked them into his pocket “The victim's name, though the police don't know it yet, is Jonathon Dawson, a regular at the Old Flag Inn a few miles from where he died. He was a minor practitioner, could do a couple of useful tricks in a euchre match and kept a couple of spell books handy. I borrowed one from him about six months ago...” Charlie seemed to lose the thread of the story for a while, before resuming “Whatever did this to him has a decent level of power, no moral qualms about killing magical folk and is only going to get stronger if he is allowed to continue”

“So why haven't you tracked him down and killed him?”

“Because I don't know what it is we're up against yet” Charlie replied, talking to me as if I was six, enunciating all of his vowels “Until I do I can't know how to protect myself and the others”

“The others?” I asked “There are more of you?”

“I'm the only magician around here” Charlie amended “But there are others who have a gift or sensibility around abouts. This murder will have shaken them up”

I noticed Charlie's fists had curled into balls and were shaking slightly. I offered him a hand from his seat and half-led him to the door.

“I need to get home. Tomorrow after work I'll buy you a drink and then we'll work out what the hell to do”

 

2

“Dawson was one of the good ones” Charlie murmured, deep into his cider “He didn't deserve to go like that”

“Who does?” I asked. I'd barely touched my pint. It was only 4pm and I don't hold for heavy drinking before 6pm. After that I figure it's fair game.

“He left me a message, you know. Slipped it in my mailbox” Charlie took another gulp and refilled the glass to the top with what was left in the bottle “I didn't check until today. I have no idea how long it was sitting there for”

“Why didn't he call you?” I asked

“I don't have a phone” Charlie replied dully “Electrical things don't work so well around us magical types”

“Is that why we get so many power outages at our place?” I realised that this was completely off-topic “Sorry about that”

Charlie waved a dismissive hand.

“The note just said he wanted to catch up with me. Said it'd been too long. Course, I'd only seen him two weeks before that at the Old Flag...”

“You think it was in code?” I asked

“In code?” Charlie was baffled by the notion “Why would he do that?”

“If you're being watched by something or someone, perhaps” I replied “Perhaps he was worried it would be intercepted”

“It's a possibility” I could almost see the gears working in Charlie's head “It would explain a few things” he drummed his fingers on the table and then slapped them down hard, the sound muffled by his glove.

“Right. This is what we need to do. Josh, I need you to go to my cabin. I'll write you a list of things I need: it's all labelled”

He scribbled down a few items on the back of a receipt and handed it to me. I tucked it into my pocket.

“Where will you be?”

He paused for a second as he tried to drink as much of his cider as possible. He choked but managed not to splutter it all over the table. There was still half of it left.

“Meet me out where the harbour meets the beach. I've got some preparation work to do”

 

3

Charlie's place looked even more militantly organised than the last time I'd been there. There wasn't a scrap of dust on the floorboards and, true to his word, Charlie had labelled everything with white stickers and black marker pen.

I checked the list and began to look around. The labelling system was easy to follow: he'd done it alphabetically (what kind of person does that? Charlie really must get out more often). Within ten minutes I had everything he had asked for: holy water, a green powder that was labelled 'Solidifying paste', an amulet with an amber stone inside, three steel hoops of differing sizes, two old coca cola bottles labelled '#92' and '#43' containing different coloured fluids, a packet of super noodles and the rusty sword that he had lent me a month previously, when I had helped him to track down and kill three Blackskin Ogres that had been contracted to kill him.

Satisfied that I had got everything he needed, I made my way out. As I went to leave, a bat that had taken refuge in the cabin scattered away into the dusk. I watched it go through the woods and wondered if I would later regret not being able to do the same.

 

4

Charlie had his hands in his pockets and was pacing backwards and forwards as he waited. It wasn't snowing like last time, thank goodness, but it was still bitterly cold, particularly now the sun was almost down.

“Finally, Josh. What took you so long?” He picked his stick out of the ground and came marching over to me. I gave him the rucksack and he rifled through it.

“Perfect” he pulled out the amulet and the super noodles, took the hoops from me and walked a few paces back to where he had come from “Keep the sword. If anything breaks free, take a couple of good swipes at it”

Oh s**t. Why did I suddenly get the feeling we'd soon be in the company of yet more faeries?

I involuntarily took a step back as Charlie set the circles in differing sizes, similar to the ritual circle I had seen in the photo. He placed the super noodles in between the first and second inner circles and stepped back, whispering a litany of sounds, almost as if singing to himself.

Hell, he had quite a good voice. No John Mayer, but he'd be okay doing Karaoke on a Friday night down at the Lion.

A speck of red light appeared, and I waited for the tiny spark to explode into an evil beastie faerie, which would try and kill us both.

It didn't. If anything, it got smaller.

“McIntyre. It is thee” the faerie looked up at him. It was minuscule, barely bigger than a table spoon. It was tall and slender and looking very bored “What does thee want this time?”

“Hi, Gregory. I brought you some super noodles” Charlie seemed nervous of the little being and he was pacing again “But I need some truthful answers before you can have them”

“Hmm” the faerie leaned laconically “Ask away”

“Will you answer me truthfully?” he asked again

“I give my word”

“I ask you a third time” he was highly agitated “Can I trust your answers?”

“Ye gods, mortal” The faerie was angry too now “How long have you sought answers from me? And have I ever led you astray?”

“There was that time in Gweek” Charlie answered sullenly “I was lost for hours”

The pixie laughed.

“That was amusing yet inconsequential. I answer thee yes thrice, now ask before my patience tires. We have done this enough before, I scarcely know why you bother to bind me still...” the pixie glanced at me “What is that? And why does he flaunt the bane?”
“Put it away, Josh” Charlie was sweating buckets. Hell, he was nervous. I'd seen him burn a full grown mother ogre who'd just given birth to ashes and he was scared of a pixie. I shook my head in disbelief and sheathed the blade.

The pixie seemed less disgruntled now.

“What did you want, mortal?”

“There was a murder, magically driven”
“The Fae do not concern themselves with mortal slaying”

“So it was mortal?”

Gregory looked up at Charlie.

“You expect all of this for a packet of noodles?” He folded his arms and tapped his foot impatiently to illustrate his point “You'll get nothing more from me unless you offer me greater payment. A baby, perhaps”

“No babies” Charlie replied “Although I could offer you another of my Names...”

I'd been doing my homework in the last month and knew enough to draw a deep breath and begin to take out the sword. A Name is something exceptionally powerful when uttered by a magical being, but for that being to use it fully it must be spoken by the holder of the Name. This Gregory already knew Charlie's surname and for all I knew he knew his first name. It would be dangerous for Charlie to offer it more potential power over him.

Gregory knew this too and his ears pricked at the thought.

Charlie smiled for the first time in the conversation, letting the nervous charade drop.

“...or I could ask my good friend to take that sword to these circles and thrash you into pieces. I believe you heard he did a Blackskin in quite effectively in December”

“I remember” the pixie complained bitterly “The use of iron is an unforgivable sin, mortal” I realised he was addressing me “Do not make a point of crossing our paths any time soon”

“So what's it to be?” Charlie asked “Information or your ending?”

“Threats and lies shall not be permitted” the faerie spat “Yet I will answer your questions for now. Consider your current payment sufficient”

“I always have” Charlie leaned on his stick “Who killed Jonathon Dawson?”

“I don't much keep with foolish names” the pixie replied “Though there is a new force in town. Recently acquired power, wizard power. You would do well to stay from there”

“Where is there?” Charlie pressed

“The hillock, by some trees in a glade. There is a dwelling” Gregory tried to leave but found his way blocked by the circles “Release me, mortal one or feel my peril!”

“As you wish” Charlie clicked his fingers and the magical tension dropped. The pixie stepped gracefully forward, picked up the packet and began to fly away, his fluttering wings somehow managing to support him and the packet of noodles.

“What just happened there?” I asked, frowning

“We just got some important information” Charlie replied, gathering his hoops “Wish I knew what it meant”

“Where to next?”

Charlie shouldered the bag.

“We have to go meet a dead guy”

 

5

The Old Flag was barely crowded at 7pm on a Friday evening. There were sometimes a few live jazz bands but nothing that set the world alight. It was almost deserted that evening; it was almost as if people were avoiding it due to the proximity of Dawson's death to the place.

We went to the bar. I order an ale; Charlie ordered a sprite and orange juice, earning a weird look from the barman. We settled into the corner and watched as the regulars shuffled in slowly.

We were on our third drink (I was starting to worry that Charlie might have to drive home) when an elderly man shuffled into the bar. He grunted at the appropriate people and ordered a lager. He took it, paid with coins and walked over to where we were sat.

“This here was John's table” his expression was impenetrable “Used to come here every Friday night, whether they had music or not” he raised his pint “To John Dawson”

Charlie and I raised our glasses and we were silent for a minute as we all looked at each other over the table.

“He wanted to talk to me before he was killed” Charlie blurted to the stranger. I looked at him in despair. Sometimes Charlie just shouldn't speak.

There was an uncomfortable pause.

“Ain't that queer” The old man raised a bushy eyebrow “So what did he want to talk to you about?”

“I think he was in danger. He thought I could help”

“Well course he was in danger...” the stranger's eyes opened wide in realisation “You're McIntyre's boy, ain't you?”

“Charlie McIntyre”

Again the pause.

“Knew your Dad. Shame what happened to him”

“I get by” Charlie's expression was terse; he didn't like to talk about it “It was a few years ago now”

“Might know a guy who could know why John Dawson was so riled” he put a note on the table “Could be he can help, could be he can't”

I glanced at the note. It had an address but no name. Charlie palmed it before I could study it further.

“Good to meet you, son. You need any more help, I ain't got none to offer” he rose and walked over to the bar, where he ordered another pint to go with the one he had somehow managed to drain while talking to us.

“Spectacularly useless” I commented

“I don't know” Charlie patted his pocket “We know two things now: some new player is living on a hill nearby and John Dawson had something important to tell me before he died”

“We still have no idea what we're up against”

“Ah, that's no worry” Charlie's face had lit up “We're getting somewhere, at least”

 

6

Charlie took a bunch of things out of the VW Camper and arranged them about his person. He carried the two drinks bottles in his bag, had the holy water in one pocket and the powder in another. Finally, he wrapped the amulet around his left hand and took the stick in another.

“You got your sword?”

I took it from the back if the van.

“We're not going to do anything illegal, are we?”

“Would it stop you if we were?”

I thought about it for a second.

“I'm not really sure”

 

Before long we found ourselves traipsing along the old back roads that led through to a various clump of hamlets and nowhere villages. Charlie seemed to know where he was going, though buggered if I knew where. He held up his stick, which had a tiny flame flickering an inch or so above it, partially illuminating the way.

“How do you make your stick do that?” I asked “Can you do that with any old branch?”

“It's called a staff” Charlie snapped back “It's to focus my magics and make sure I don't disintegrate things accidentally”

“Just purposefully then”

“Not very often” Charlie shrugged “Sometimes it's necessary”

“So what are we going to do when we get to wherever we are going? It looks like you're all ready for a battle”

“Well, best to be over-prepared and appear menacing when we arrive. First impressions are important” he remarked

I looked at him, in his over sized fisherman's jumper and faded brown trousers going into his jackboots. Charlie McIntyre looked a lot of things and menacing was not a phrase that came easily to mind.

A small cottage came into view surrounded by a small copse of trees. Behind it Trencrom hill rose up from the earth.

“On the hill, by the trees, in a glade” Charlie murmured softly “Think this might be the place?”

 

7

Charlie knocked for the third time.

“So what are we expecting?”

“Not rightly sure” Charlie knocked a fourth time “Possibly a dark mage, maybe some kind of nasty creature, a werewolf or vampire, perhaps, with a bit of magics about them. There are a lot of possibilities” he knocked again “Ah, this is useless. Stand back” He raised his staff two-handed and pointed it at the lock “This might be dangerous – I'm no expert at this type of magic”

He readied his will and I felt a slight hum in the air, a tightening of power. I could feel the energy being drawn as if from the earth itself.

“Desabolger...” he tailed off as the door opened.

A man, or what resembled a man in his sixties peered out of the door. He had a neat beard and cropped salt and pepper hair. His eyes shone like turquoise pools, giving him a distinctly inhuman appearance.

“You must be Wizard McIntyre. I was expecting a visit. Please, come in”

Charlie was still gaping. I gave him a slight shove and we followed the, well – whatever it was, into its house.

 

“Do you take tea with sugar, lemon or honey?” he asked

“Just milk” I replied

“Honey and milk” Charlie still seemed slightly dazed

“Thanks” I added, when it was clear Charlie wasn't able to offer gratitude himself.

“I'll only be a minute” the non-person left the room without a sound.

As soon as he had left I turned to Charlie.

“What is that?”

“Azure Court Vampire” Charlie replied, slightly detached “I thought they were all extinct”

“Then what it one doing living on Trencrom Hill?” I asked “And what is this about an Azure Court?”

“Different vampires have different, talents, that they use, which affects their personalities” Charlie explained in a low whisper “Since earlier this year the Red Court have been at war with the White Council, the governing body of Magicians and Wizards. They are mostly in the Americas and Africa though. In Europe our problem has mostly been with the Black Court, who are like the one's in Dracula”

“Dracula, as in the book by Bram Stoker?” I asked

“Exactly” Charlie replied. He looked awfully pale “Though Drakul is still reckoned to be alive somewhere in Bulgaria these days and most of them have gone into hiding. Stoker was pretty accurate in detailing how best to kill them”

“So there are Red, Black and Azure Court vampires?”

“Plus White and Jade Court” Charlie added with a grimace “We don't see those much”

“You still haven't answered my question about the Azure Court”

“I don't know that much about them” Charlie admitted “I know one hasn't been seen for years. They are very solitary beings who dislike company of all types. They supposedly feed on human fluids, saliva, sweat and the like”

I pulled a face.

“That's disgusting”
“Tell me about it” Charlie raised an eyebrow “Apparently they can suck all of the water from your body in seconds if you let them get close enough”

“But surely we would hear if bodies were being dried out after death” I reasoned “I think we'd have noticed if John Dawson had died of lack of bodily fluids”

“I'm not sure” Charlie replied “I'd need to check my reference books”

Just then the Vampire returned, bearing three cups of tea. I raised an eyebrow.

“Any type of liquid will keep us alive, as long as the water content is high” he passed us our respective cups and kept one for himself “Of course, one can never quite match the taste of a human” he paused, almost relishing the thought “I've not fed for a long time. Our race leaves behind quite obvious traces when we kill. Besides, your White Council is quite determined to stamp our race out at present”

“It is the Red Court that provoked this war” Charlie replied curtly “And I do not come here as a representative of the Council”

“Indeed?” the vampire raised a ghost of a smile upon his face “Then what is it that you seek?”

“Firstly, I'd like to know what you are doing in this part of the world. I thought you all liked a bit more space between yourself and other folk”

“I've been around since Queen Victoria was mewling and crying for her mother” the vampire replied “Let's just say that every now and again I need a change” he stood and looked over at the window “Besides, it's not as if I have been causing, ahem, havoc and mayhem, have I?”

“That remains to be seen” Charlie had barely touched his tea “What do you know of the murder of John Dawson?”

the Vampire returned to his seat and elegantly perched upon it “I do not know of this man. What happened?”

“I'd rather not share that with you” Charlie retorted petulantly
“As you wish” the Vampire's eyes became unfocused for a second, then slipped back into their bottomless blue perfection “Ah, a basic power draining murder. Most likely with the help of a lesser demon”

“You can read minds?” I asked

“I can feel the vibrations in the brain fluid” the vampire replied “Difficult, but useful”

“Did you murder John Dawson?” Charlie had stood now and had the holy water opened in his gloved hand “I've no more time for games!”
The Vampire's eyes turned scarlet for a second and the room seemed to heat up considerably. It went from sitting to standing in less than a blink of the eye.
“I will not tolerate such insolence in my home” he moved again at lightning speed, so that he was less than half a metre from Charlie's face “Get out, now”

“If I find out that you are behind this” Charlie had somehow remained calm – which was incredible in the circumstances “I will hunt you down and destroy you even if it kills me”

The Vampire gave a low, mirthless laugh.

“It would. Be gone now, young Wizard. I have no reason to kill you yet. Do not give me one”

 

8

“William Holness” Charlie frowned at the letterbox by the wall “Interesting. Shame I couldn't have got him to say his name aloud”

“You could have taken him back there” I assured him “Right?”

“Not a chance in all the dimensions” Charlie replied “I was bluffing so hard I thought he would obliterate me there and then”

“But he can be killed, right?”

“I could dip him in a tub of holy water” Charlie mused “That alone gave him check to pause. But I don't think any other weapons work particularly well on the Azure Court”

“So if it does turn out to be him, we're stuffed”

Charlie shrugged.

“I'd certainly give it a go”

I looked him, half-bemused and half-respectful.

“You really do just not know when to give up, do you?” I ventured

Charlie illuminated his stick.

“Never”

 

9

“So this is what we have” Charlie began to jot notes onto a notepad. It was Saturday morning and I had six hours before I was due into work “The Vampire seems unlikely. If it was him, he'd have made it obvious. Besides,” he added, scribbling furiously “he doesn't need any more than he already has”

“So William Holness is off the list. Which means Gregory was wrong” I inserted

“Wouldn't be the first time” Charlie replied “Faeries are utterly unreliable. Plus sneaky as anything”

“So where does that leave us?”

“We have that address in St Ives we could look into” Charlie mused “Or we could go back and speak to the old man. There was something about him...”

“St. Ives” I suggested “No point going back to talk to that man until we know if his tip was any good”

“Can you drive me over?” Charlie asked

“Do I have a choice?” I shot back “I'm in this too deeply now to do anything about it”

 

10

The address was above one of the numerous galleries that adorned the seafront. The front door leading up to the apartment was unlocked, and Charlie gingerly prodded it open with his stick. I had mentioned that it was a bad idea to tote that around town but he had simply shot me a withering glance and taken it anyway.

There was a disturbing smell as we climbed the stairwell up towards the flat. As we drew nearer I realised that it was blood.

Our footsteps quickened and didn't even pause to knock as we entered through a slightly ajar front door. We followed the hall to where it led into a kitchen, where we stopped dead in out tracks.

The dead body of whoever lived here was lying inside three circles. A shadow the size of a human seemed to be feeding on it, devouring the lifeless flesh of the torso.

“The demon!” Charlie spat, chucking me the bag. I fumbled inside it and drew out my sword, the only weapon that I knew how to use. I put the bag behind me as Charlie drew the powder out of his pocket and smudged the black lines with his foot.

The power sunk around the circles and the shadowed-demon turned from the dead man. His body may have looked non-corporeal but his teeth certainly didn't.

“Oh, Demon, what big teeth you have” Charlie quipped. He readied his staff and threw the bag of paste over the demon's head.

As it spun above the demon he shot what looked to be a powerful jet of green light, piercing the bag and sending the powder over the demon in an aqueous paste. The demon began to writhe and wriggle, it's movements slowed as the paste began to clutch to it's skin.

“Now Josh!” Charlie commanded. I went forward with the sword held high and swept it straight through the demon. It howled and lashed out at me, ripping my t-shirt and sending me sprawling.

Charlie clenched his amulet and drove his hand forward “Forza” he boomed.

A hole blew straight through the demon's head, dropping it to the floor. As we watched it seemed to ooze into the ground before us, leaving a collection of soggy green paste behind.

“Well, that made it scamper away sharpish” Charlie laughed and came over to me “How is your arm?”

“Hurts like hell” I tried to move it and wanted to scream “Plus I'm bleeding”
Charlie inspected it.

“It's only a surface graze” he took a first aid kit out of his bag. He dampened a towel, cleaned the wound and wrapped a bandage around it, securing it with a safety pin “You'll need to replace that later”

“Later” I paused and looked at my watch “S**t”

“What?”

“I'm going to be late for work”

 

11

Charlie was waiting for me outside when I finished work.

“Don't you have anything better to do?” I asked

“Not really. Why, do you?”

“I guess not. My girlfriend is off visiting her parents this weekend”

“I need some back-up”

“What for now?”

“I'm going for a drink at the Old Flag” Charlie was playing with his fingerless glove “Plus you have a valid driving license”

 

We entered the pub. In the corner where we had sat before was the old man.

“What are you going to do?” I asked

“I want to be all dramatic and cause a scene” Charlie replied “But this isn't a pub where they tolerate that kind of thing”

“So don't”

“Fine” Charlie stalked over to the old man's table and I followed a few steps behind.

“Tom Farthbrough”

“That's me” he replied “Oh, McIntyre. How did it go with my contact?”

“You're contact is dead” Charlie replied “And you sent that demon after him”

I managed to sense power emanating from both of them. Charlie's was mostly pure, righteous anger. Not particularly powerful, but potent nonetheless. The old man's was fear, fury and something stronger. Black power. It was barely detectable now, but I could feel it.

I drew a deep breath and shallowed.

This man had committed those murders as surely as if he had put a knife through their heart.

I felt mildly sick.

“I challenge you to a duel under the rules of the Accords” Charlie spoke quietly across the table. Around us the chatter of the locals continued unabated. No one had noticed a thing “If you refuse I will request assistance from the White Council in the matter”

The old man sighed.

“Very well, I accept. No need to involve those old fools. But I warn you, McIntyre. I will win this”

“You are familiar with the rules?” Charlie asked

“Remind me” Farthbrough inclined his head “I was a second for your father once, but I do not remember the details”

Charlie's eyes darkened at the mention of his father.

“I challenge you so I choose the location and the time. You choose how we will fight from a list of choices given by a neutral emissary who will referee the duel”

“Do you have any suggestions?”

“I do” Charlie passed over a slip of paper “I figured Trencrom Hill at 11pm would be quiet enough for us. I recommend the Azure Court as the emissary, as they have not taken sides in the Red Courts war with the White Council. There is a vampire living locally”

“Very well. Contact him. You have a second?”
“Joshua Alexander” Charlie indicated me. Tom Farthbrough grunted.

“Very well. I will meet you here tomorrow at the same time. I expect to see the emissary then and will notify you of my second”

“Good” Charlie rose from his seat and walked towards the bar. I followed.

“Dear God” Charlie muttered as we ordered our drinks “I can't believe I just did that”

12

William Holness fitted in with the rest of the bar surprisingly well. He had managed to shrink his pupils back to normal size, so that they didn't tip off the unsuspecting public. He was dressed in a polo shirt and trousers with smart shoes, looking all the world like he had just come in from a round of golf.

“What will you have?” asked the barman as Charlie and I joined Holness, who was sipping a pint of water.

“Coke”

“Pint of Doombar Ale”

“Aren't you driving?” Holness asked suspiciously of me

“One won't hurt”

“With your reactions? I wouldn't” he turned and stalked over to one of the tables. Charlie and I followed.

“Tom Farthbrough will be here any minute” Holness consulted his watch “His second cannot, unfortunately, make it, so we will proceed without him. The time and location has been fixed and, given consent from both parties, will take place tomorrow night”

Charlie nodded and looked white. I murmured some form of barely-verbal consent.

“Here he is” William Holness didn't look around as Farthbrough entered the pub and neared us. He took a seat as far from Charlie as he could.

“We were just discussing dates. Does tomorrow evening suit you?” Holness asked, not wasting any time.

“Fine. I will need some time to prepare, but I can be ready for tomorrow”

“Very well. You have chosen the discipline?”

Farthbrough nodded. He looked nervous, almost as nervous as Charlie, who was shaking slightly. I kicked him under the table and he stopped.

“Will. Magics”

“That is fine by me” Charlie replied neutrally, with only a quaver of fear in his voice

“Very well” Holness nodded assent “We will meet tomorrow at 11pm on the hill. Any problems, you both know the channels through which to contact me. We are finished for tonight” he rose, then paused as he turned to go “Remember. If you do not turn up to the duel, or you fail to follow the rules of the duel, and your life becomes forfeit to me. Good night, gentlemen”

 

13

“Holness has been around a little too long for my liking” Charlie threw a rock up in the air and caught it “Truth be told, I'm more nervous of him than of Farthbrough”

“Then why did you suggest him to arbitrate?” I was trying to fix a glitch in the shop's computer system “Surely there were other referees you could have used?”

“None as strong as Holness. That vampire has such raw strength” Charlie threw the rock up and caught it again “I wouldn't have a chance against him”

“Don't hit anything with that stone” I warned “Surely Holness will remain neutral throughout. He seems to respect traditions”

“I just hope he doesn't turn a blind eye to any cheating” Charlie had given up on the rock and was biting a nail “I seriously doubt that Tom Farthbrough will play fair”

“What is he, exactly?”

“A warlock, I guess” Charlie hazarded “He's certainly not on the White Council and he's been toting more than minor-league power recently. Besides, that power he has is just evil”

“I felt”

“You felt his power?” Charlie looked at me quizzically “That's not possible”

“Why not? You certainly can, so why should I not be able to?” I replied shortly. I had abandoned my computer glitch-fixing and glared at Charlie

“I mean it's impossible” Charlie amended “As you have no magic about you. Trust me, I would be able to tell”

I thought about that for a moment.

“What does that mean?”

“Hell if I know” Charlie bit at another nail “I'm starting to think this wasn't one of my greatest ideas”

 

 

14

Trencrom Hill was illuminated by a half moon. Two shadows crossed the hill across to us.

“Good evening, gentlemen” Holness, looking a hell of a lot creepier in a black coat and with those huge dilated pupils looking straight through us, greeted “I was worried you were going to be late”

“Holness, Farthbrough” I greeted in monosyllables. Charlie uttered grunts as we all shook hands.

“Where is Farthbrough's second?” Charlie asked roughly

Farthbrough gave a smile. He looked like someone's kindly uncle.

“Let me just get him”

He walked over to where a set of concentric circles stood. Inside was a rabbit, trapped inside. Farthbrough uttered a string of syllables, presumably the demon's Name, and the circle began to bulge and wrench. The shadow-demon that he had been using to gain power emerged and descended upon the rabbit, which was devoured in a minute, during which Charlie and I mostly exchanged disgusted glances.

“Wrothrazagal” Holness commanded. The demon fell silent and seemed to look towards the Azure Vampire. I noticed it still looked injured, as if it had not recovered from the blows Charlie and I had dealt it. I checked for the bronze sword in my scabbard and was glad for its presence “Do you support Tom Farthbrough as his second?”

The demon rasped something in a snarl incomprehensible to me. Holness listened, nodded, then replied in a similar snarl. Seemingly pacified, the demon stood in the circle, motionless.

“We may begin. Would the seconds stand opposite each other and allow the combatants to take to the field”

I positioned myself opposite the demon, figuring it wasn't about to move much from where it was enclosed. Charlie, Holness and Farthbrough stepped inside an unseen circle, which illuminated into a reddish, half-transparent wall about a foot high.

“You may use any types of magics to defeat your enemy. The fight will end when one of the combatants perishes or gives in, unless the arbitrator is forced to step in” Holness coughed “I have been clear in my instructions. You will begin on my count”

I looked to each combatant. Charlie, with his gloves, amulet and stick, looked anything but menacing. I noticed that Farthbrough had a short blade in one hand and a cluster of dark feathers in the other. He looked a lot more agile than the first time I had seen him. I guessed he put the show of being fragile on to hide suspicion.

“Three, two, one. Begin”

Farthbrough was quickest off the mark. He yelled, incomprehensibly, flinging the feathers at Charlie. A wave of tiny, obsidian, bird-like creatures flew towards Charlie, who calmly drew a line in front of him with his stick and murmured “Blocco”
An orange glow halted the oncoming missiles as if they were candy, sending them flying off into the sides of the walls. They disintegrated the moment they left the circle.

“Forza!” Charlie pointed the stick at Farthbrough and a gunshot-like beam of energy shot towards Farthbrough, who used sword to deflect the magic. Charlie tried again, keeping his distance, and Farthbrough again countered, this time slower than before.

I realised then who would win this duel. Farthbrough was strong, but it was all borrowed power, stolen from other practitioners. If Charlie could keep him using his magic to defend himself, then he would wear him down to nothing. When it came to reserves, Charlie had much more left than Farthbrough already.

Farthbrough realised this too. In a moment of panic, he rolled aside, avoiding another blast of energy. He brought his sword down upon the circle, breaking it open with a slice. He then held his hand towards where the demon was trapped and yelled something in what was possibly Russian.

The circle opened and the demon emerged. Farthbrough turned, triumphant, with his arm stretching to cast a spell on Charlie.

Then William Holness drained him.

It was a sudden action. One minute Farthbrough was laughing, the next he seemed to implode, like a balloon suddenly being popped. Fluids poured from his orifices, congealing as they went and cascading in a stream literally into Holness. What was essentially a bunch of dried flesh and bones collapsed into a heap on the ground where Farthbrough had stood just moments before.

The demon meanwhile, had launched itself towards me. I screamed (I'm not proud to admit that) and drew my sword up in a desperate parry.

Holness had the demon covered too. He moved faster than I thought possible and literally picked him up, then slammed him to the ground. The demon, which seemed to become part-liquid as soon as Holness touched him, disappeared into a puddle of goo and water on the floor, splashing all of us in the process.

We both stood in silence for a minute, stunned. Holness pulled his coat around him and picked up a small briefcase.

“Our business here is concluded. Good night”

Holness walked off silently into the night.