Entire Book

The complete story. I'll be separating out the chapters over time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1: The Demon in the Alarm Clock

 

Tick. Tick. Tick. Went the little clock on the mantle. It had just clicked its aluminum hands to show one o’clock. It was one a.m., not that the clock knew. After all, how could it? Having only twelve numbers and nothing to differentiate between morning and night on its simple face. It didn’t have a brain either, but it didn’t mind much. Life for was easier that way for the little clock.

To think that’s all there is to thoughts. Some might say brains are only an excuse humans use to convince themselves that since they had the biggest ones they must be the smartest.  Take a moment to consider, not all thought is directly linked to grey matter, and is in fact held in the body. It’s even said that information is passed into objects through wave particles and that information is stored inside the object as memories of a sort. In other words, objects retain records of events they come in direct contact with soundwaves, objects, heat, light, etc. … and in tiny ways they respond.

How then, is this relevant to anything? Well, that information is this story’s segue to its protagonist. It was by this very phenomenon of nature that he made quite an important self-discovery. And he was never the same after. It was also because of this he … Well, you’ll see later on.

Digressing… the clock clicked over to one o’clock in the morning, or well, one o’clock anyway. It had no a.m./p.m. indicator, and therefore had no way of relating whether it was in fact morning or evening, leaving it instead up to the teller of the time to know by other means what portion of the day they were presently in.

Jon looked up and sighed deeply. He was wide awake. He was not wide awake because it was one in the afternoon, but because it was in fact one in the morning, and he was restless. I truth, he hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in some time. Ensuring his alertness, his bladder had reached capacity from his too frequent trips to the kitchen for water throughout the night. He registered his need to pee when he rolled over to double check the clock.

Standing up in the silver moonlight that draped his bed, Jon creaked along the scuffed and splintered wooden floor of his apartment towards the bathroom. With a flick of a yellowing plastic switch, his frame illuminated in the mirror, highlighting the white scar running down his left shoulder towards his sternum. It still hurt to touch, even after five years. A bold of electric force ran through him as he rubbed his collar bone subconsciously. The buzz of energy reignited his memories of the event he was constantly trying to disremember.

Furrowing his brow Jon frowned and shuffled over to the toilet. Business done, lights out, back to bed, but not back to sleep. In truth, there were many reasons he might not have been able to rest that night. There wasn’t much in his life to help him rest easy. Jon’s life was more/less a wreck. It didn’t make sense to his family. Not that he talked to them enough for it to matter anyway. He’d had a fairly good life. He was average in high school, not a jock, not a nerd, or a band nerd, or a gamer, or a pot head, or any-other-click-you-can-think-of kind of kid. He was just a teenager with above average grades, but he always ascribed it to studying hard.  Jon had always loved learning. His family had expected him to go to college. But he didn’t want to go until he had decided on a career path, which he still hadn’t done. When that didn’t happen, they hoped he’d try to find a good job. That didn’t happen either. They didn’t know why. Honestly, neither did Jon. He was just another whatever, someone destined to work at a gas station for the next forty years and have a heart attack from too many prepackaged donuts and soda pop. Oh well, too bad. It takes all kinds to make the world go round anyway, even washouts. He would tell himself. The truth of the matter was he felt stuck in limbo, lost in the ether of a billion prospects and yet none that he wanted.

Thinking about this, he stared out his window from his old full sized mattress that laid directly on the floor in the middle of his room. It was a full moon. Silver too. How pretty. He loved the metallic-blue light dancing around his room as clouds passed across the sky on nights like this. It should have felt so peaceful. But Jon was ill at ease. Something was out of place. He figured it must have simply been a sense of deeply ingrained dissatisfaction with his personal choices.

He turned and laid down to try and sleep, facing away from the bright light from his window when he saw it. Had a figure’s shadow just passed across his window? Impossible, he was three floors up, and there was no ledge. Just old wood slats all the way down. Weird. Must have be going too long without sleep, he thought to himself.

There it was again! This time, it stopped, clearly visible on the floor. The shadow of a person crouching down on his window sill. Oh man, what did people do in situations like these. He was paralyzed, feeling totally unprepared for this kind of thing. He could yell, but his neighbors probably wouldn’t care. Not in this neighborhood. People would just think it was another domestic disturbance. Maybe he could reach something sharp. Nothing in reach. Crap. No wait, not nothing. Well it was something anyway. He grabbed his alarm clock and turned swiftly. At this point it was do or die- hopefully not the latter.

He looked at the window perplexed. There was nothing there. Not a person or body, or even a figurine. He shook his head, and looked back at the wall he had seen the shadow on. Nothing was there. John stood up, weirded out now. Maybe a beer would help him nod off. It had been about forty hours since he slept last, and he’d heard that if you go to long without sleep you could begin to hallucinate. That must have been it. Out of caution, he kept hold of the alarm clock.

He opened the door, thankful for the incandescent light it cast about his small one-bedroom apartment. Hahaha… Wow, he was twenty-five and still couldn’t totally get over lame crap like fear of the dark. But that’s what was weird. He’d never been bothered much by it. Assuming it was all due to emotional distress and fatigue Jon pulled out a bottle of cheap IPA that tasted like second world bathwater and swilled half the beverage down in three big gulps. Something breezed by the back of his neck.

“What the hell was that!?” His voice seemed alien breaking the faint yellow silence of the apartment. His fear thickened the air around him palpably, suffocating his ability to call out again. The hairs on the nape of neck and arms raised as his sensed automatically heightened. Fight or flight, here we go. I’m holding a beer and a clock, wow. These wouldn’t have exactly his weapons of choice. He polished off the beer in another quick swill, hoping it would dissolve the creeping feeling running down his spine, and simultaneously banish any ghoulish hallucinations he might have been having. It was still his imagination. He chuckled nervously, feeling foolish. “Get a grip, moron. It’s just a breeze coming from the window.” But he remembered he had closed it earlier. Ohhhh, crap.

That was when he saw it. Something dark, a shadow traced along his wall and sliding into his bedroom. His refrigerator light blinked out. OHHHSHIT!! Ohmanohmanohman. What could he do? A knife. Get a knife, stupid. You’re in your kitchen. But how was a knife supposed to defend him against a shadow. What the hell was that thing?! It was a shadow, but it was in the shadow, and it moved in places a shadow couldn’t have been, like against the wall where his window was- which was the only light source. How could a shadow be casting toward a light? What was going on!?

He stood frozen. Nothing happened. Okay, apparently, it was his move. Maybe if he stood there for just another thirty seconds… Still nothing. Even in the dark, he could see the white on his knuckles from clutching the alarm clock. He forgot he was carrying it. And he forgot to grab a knife. Some of his wits returned and he grabbed a semi-rusted blade from the sink behind him. It was just a butter knife. Crap. But would ANY knife work against this thing?

Very cautiously, Jon walked into his bedroom. Something dark and electric bolted towards him. He threw up the hand he was clutching the knife with. S**t! The handle was metal too. A sharp buzz coursed up his arm and made his scar burn like fire and bolts of pain shot into his brain, then back down his arm. He dropped the knife. Oh no. Another quick attack. This time, it was the shadow itself. How was this thing not attached to a wall or something?!?! No time for logic now. This was real, or at least it felt like it. Barely dodging a hit to the face, he swerved to avoid another attack. A kick? He swerved again. A forth strike, this time a discernable fist. He reacted fast this time. All or nothing. He dodged and smashed the corner of his alarm clock into the side the shadow’s head.

That’s when things got even weirder. As the clock struck the shadow, an ovoid of light pulsed outwards from the contact point, and filled most of the room, seemingly pushing against its surroundings, then collapsing back into the clock. The shadow had gone. Destroyed? He seriously hoped so. And what the so-many-four-letter-words was that!? He realized he still held the clock. It was now glowing slightly. He looked at the clock, curious. It didn’t seem to be damaged, but now emitted a faint bluish light, slightly less blue than an Indiglow watch. Cool, but wtf. “I think I need another drink or something.” He stared at the clock as he walked towards his kitchen. Sitting it down on the table he walked over to the fridge, not taking his eyes from it.

“Ouch” he stubbed his toe on the kick board under the counter, still staring at the clock. That seemed to help him snap out of it. He started shaking. What do you do after something like that? Should he go to the ER to get checked out? Should he be in a psyche ward? Should he tell someone? Nooohohoho way Hose’. That’s the high road to the nut farm. He decided to keep this to himself. Or at least, that was his plan. As he pulled another beer from the fridge… Knock knock-knock. The sound startled him so bad he accidentally threw his beer behind him involuntarily. What the…

It was one-thirty in the morning, what could anyone want right now? He guessed it was one of the neighbors who had most likely heard the noise, most likely Mr. Zhang­�' one of those cranky neighbors who hated noise. John figured that considering the area he chose to live in, he must be a glutton for punishment. Speak of the devil… “Mr. Zhang? What are you doing up so late? Can I help you?” Timothy said through the cracked door.

With no introduction, the old man pushed into the room, disregarding that Jon was in his underwear. He had a very serious look on his face. But that wasn’t so unusual for Mr. Zhang. Even when he did tai chi across the street at the park, he always looked perturbed, as if he’d just lost a game of poker to a dirty card player. He grunted crankily in greeting as he looked over the room. Finally, he rounded on Jon who was embarrassed at both his state of undress as well as the state of the apartment, but was a bit perturbed at the sudden intrusion. “I hear noise in here.” Mr. Zhang said tersely.

“I’m really sorry about that, there was a really big cockroach in my bedroom and I had a hard time getting it.”

“That so… Easier to catch cockroach with lights on.” The old man was pragmatically rude as ever. He turned the light on, inspecting the space, looking up and down and everywhere. It was very strange. He then gave himself permission to go to into the bedroom. A light in the room flipped on. “You move everything to kill roach? Must have been big one,” there was now a clear note of disbelief in his voice. Following him in, John saw why. That strange blast of light had pushed everything against the walls, and had even knocked the few things that had been hanging on the walls down, including his guitar and posters.

“Ha-ha, well, I hate the damn things. I guess I overreacted…” John began.

“Overreact my a*s. I see your clock.” The old man pointed to the table as he reentered the kitchen. “Give here, let me look.” Jon was surprised, and suddenly nervous. Reluctantly, he forked over the clock to the tiny old man. Fear began to rise back up again. What was this guy’s game? Something was definitely up with him. Jon felt cornered, having the sense he was being suspected of something.

The old man took the object surprisingly gently. He held it in his hand and turned it around in every direction, bringing it in to his face and adjusting his glasses. He sighed an old man’s “Mmmmm…” his hum was low and gravely. He was apparently gaining some kind understanding through his visual inspection.

“You make this?”

“The clock? Ha-ha ... uh, no, I bought it at the store when I moved in …” Jon rubbed his scar nervously.

“Not, Clock, STUPID. This!!” He pointed furiously at the clock, indicating the light.

Jon thought fast. He didn’t want to sound crazy. “What do you mean? It’s just one of those clocks that glow in the dark, it runs on batteries…”

“Bahhh,” growled Old Man Zhang waving his free hand at Jon’s face. “Bad lies don’t help. Tell me what happen.” He took a seat still fixated on the little clock. Does this old man really know what was up?

Jon narrowed his eyes at the old man, attempting to figure him out. After a moment of appraisal, he gave up. Sighing, and digressing, Jon sat too. “Look, it’s crazy, you wouldn’t believe it. I’m probably nuts. I just don’t think …”

“Not crazy,” the old man said, cutting across John’s words. “This light is seal for something. Only dark things are caged by light. Light confines darkness. Poor little clock.” He said stroking the plexi-face of the alarm clock. He exaggerated the “k” in clock. “It only made to serve, but now so full of darkness. See? Light cover outside, keep what inside from getting out.” The old man seemed genuinely sad for the clock. It was strange to see such a mean person behave so lovingly toward an inanimate object. He seemed as saddened at the sight if it as a child might be over a dead bird in the grass.

“Isn’t it just a clock?”

“You know nothing.” The old man sounded angry again, looking up. “You tell me what happen, NOW!” His fist knocked on the table with a thud.

“Whoa! Okay fine.” Jon said raising his hands to pacify the man. Clearly this old guy knew more about this crap than he did anyway. Maybe he could explain some things to him. “Okay so… Uh…” Where to begin? “Umm. There was this shadow, and it came in through the window. It came off the wall. And it…  it attacked me.” Jon looked at Mr. Zhang, who wasn’t looking at him like he was crazy yet. “Well, then I hit it in the head with that clock, and, … and there was this light.” Okay, that was it. John ma boy, you’re nuts. He heaved a bracing sigh. “Look, this is crazy, none of this is even possible.”

“Finish story…” the old man seemed genuinely curious, but also concerned.

Sigh. “Well, like I said, there was this light. It kind of exploded out from where the clock hit the thing’s head, and made this weird bubble of light. It filled the whole room, and then shrank back down and covered the clock.” Call the nut farm. This one’s flown the coop. Maybe the old man was crazy too…?

“I see.” Mr. Zhen said briefly. He rose and looked around the apartment again. “You put clothes on now. We leave here. Not safe now.”

“Wait, what?” John was thoroughly confused. Hadn’t the violence ended? They were safe now, right? Plus, it was nearing 2 a.m. Where would an old Chinese guy and a 25-year-old dead beat go in the middle of the night. Wouldn’t the inside of his apartment be the safest place?

“You trap shadow. If shadow bad, shadow’s master worse. He come to find shadow. He come to find you.” What was this s**t? This was too real for him. Did he fall into a total fantasy delusion? Was he dreaming? That must be it. He was dreaming. He had finally nodded off and this was some weird, Mexican beer dream. Then again, in a dream, it was probably better not to swim against the current. Especially if the current is taking you to safety.

So, Jon threw on a pair of pants and a zip up hoodie, smashing a cap over his long hair. “You so slow. Need to hurry,” the old man was the pushy sort of guy you would typically never get to know too well as a neighbor. John had pegged him as soon as they’d met. They had shared a memetic contract not to bother one another. Both had obeyed it faithfully until this moment, aside from a couple of instances in which Jon’s music was up to loud for the old guy’s liking.

“Hang on, I’m just getting my shoes on.” His tube socked feet slid into his high-tops easily. He grabbed his wallet, cell phone and keys, and they were out the door. They didn’t even turn out the lights, though Jon made sure to lock the door and latch the windows. As they left, the old man muttered something strange before they walked out of the apartment. As they passed under the threshold, something viscous and iridescent like gasoline poured around them like water over a glass dome. S**t was getting weirder. “Holy… What the f**k is this?!” Jon was feeling dizzy and terrified.

“No time now. I feel them come. We go now.” The door clicked shut unaided behind them. And no sooner had john turned to step down on the landing had he realized he was no longer in his New Jersey apartment building. His attempted step down was met by an early footing, causing him to stumble a bit. Looking up he saw that he was on a side street surrounded by bodegas and Chinese shops. “Whaaaat the-”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2: Swag Dragons and Leaping through Space

“Stay close. We go to safe place now.” Mr. Zhang’s words were sharp, but concerned as he led Jon down the street and up to a worn-down looking building. They walked inside and Jon couldn’t help but recall the phrase, “don’t judge a book by its cover”. The cliché didn’t even do the situation justice. They were in an enormous foyer with intricate marble tiling, rot-iron banisters and two very large dragons of real jade on either side. The walls were a rich dark wood and the wide hallway was lined with cloisonné urns with deep green indoor palms blooming from their openings. Over their heads was a crystal chandelier gilt in gold. Old inked scrolls hung on the dark wood walls tastefully, each bearing a beautiful image of an animal or a misty landscape. It was a beautiful place, however much it looked like a Triad leader’s hideout.

“You follow.” Mr. Zhang said blandly, seeming nonplussed by the decadence surrounding them.

“Where are we?” Jon half whispered, as he passively followed the old man down the palm-laden hall.

“At my master’s house.” The old man had a way with words, always giving enough to explain, but somehow it never seemed to do Jon’s questions justice. Damnit, why couldn’t someone just explain what was happening here? The thoughts re-grounded Jon just as they reached the end of the hall and stood in front of an ornate red and gold door. “say nothing, I will speak.” As he walked forward the door opened without him touching it.

“Zhang Yao, come forward.” A voice from across the room said. The air was thick with incense and tobacco, and the dark paneled room was dimly lit by a fireplace off to the left of a chaise lounge. The room was richly and much more ornately decorated than even the foyer had been. Under-lit shelving lined the walls highlighting beautiful objects that seemed to be from every era and corner of the world manifesting an odd juxtaposition of things; odd, but beautiful.

They approached the chair where a man sat smoking a long pipe sitting crisscross style with his feet up. Joh thought the sofa seemed old, as though it had been plucked from a movie set in the 20’s, though really, Jon had no clue about things like that. As they drew close Old Man Zhang stopped and bowed to the ground, knees to the floor in traditional style. Jon was unsure what to do, so he nodded deeply in a sort of confused compromise, hoping not to breech some code of behavior.

“Master, I have saved the one you send me to. We escape just in time. This is Jon Sait. Also, I bring something else.” He rose still bowing slightly and looking at the floor. From his coat, he produced the clock, still bearing the eerie glow from earlier. He placed it gently on the desk. “Boy trap shadow inside. I heard and came running. Left just in time.”

“Are you certain you weren’t followed?” The mysterious man asked. “Even when it’s been bound, a master can sense his shadow.” It was strange to Jon. The man was dressed in a traditional Chinese robe that draped him loosely, giving him the appearance of having stepped out of an ancient Chinese watercolor. What made it seem weird was that he had no accent. He sounded American, and looked fairly young. He couldn’t have been more than thirty-five, but this old guy was acting like he was some ancient Chinese king or something. Had Jon not been in shock, he would have found the scene pretentious.

“Yes, master. We took portal just before they arrive. I close portal before anything come through. We not seen by anyone.” It was odd to watch this cantankerous old man behaving so humbly and polite.

“Very well Yao. Wait outside. I will speak to the boy in private.” For the first time the man looked directly at Jon. When he did, Jon realized his iris’ were electric blue and glowing faintly. They were much the same color as his clock. It made Jon feel suddenly small, and also very exposed and out of place, the way a child would who has been found playing in a place they shouldn’t have been.

The door closed quietly behind Mr. Zhen. “I’m sure you have many questions about your current situation.”

Jon took a deep breath, attempting to steady his voice. “Seriously, I really do. I …”

“It is complicated to explain all at once,” the man cut across. “But we will do our best to clear this up as much as possible for you.” Jon made to speak, but the man held up a silencing hand. “Unfortunately, you cannot stay here long. We must send you to a safe-house as soon as possible. Once there, you will come to fully understand your situation.” He sighed deeply, putting the tip of his pipe to his lips and taking a long deep drag. “Introductions first.” As he spoke, billows of thick smoke crawled from his mouth and nostrils. “Welcome to my home. My name is Master Zhang Senfeng. The man you know as Mr. Zhang is a member of my household. He has served this family in good faith for centuries. For that reason, he bears my surname. We are Tao practitioners who serve order, and strive to maintain the positive balance in the world.”

“Uhhhh…” Jon felt weird. This couldn’t be real. “I’m sorry, did you say centuries?”

“You are Jon Sait,” he said, ignoring Jon’s question, turning his pipe on Jon swiftly aiming the pointed end at Jon’s chest. “Several years ago, I sent out my servant to your future home to establish a barrier and watch over you. Last night, that barrier was breeched. Only a powerful malevolent force could have destroyed it. Any positive force would have been allowed access to your apartment without any knowledge of the barriers existence. The fact it was destroyed means that what came to you last night meant ill for you and was had to be quite powerful as well. Most likely, it was sent to kill you.” He stared at Jon for a moment, bringing the pipe back to his lips for a long while before continuing. Jon wondered if this was an invitation to speak. “My household’s craft,” Apparently not.  “Is old and powerful, including power endowed to my servants, especially in regards to Mr. Zhang, your neighbor.” He stopped speaking.

Jon waited for him to continue. He didn’t. Jon took the silence as his cue. “So why would something so bad come for me?”

“It may be because you haven’t realized the power inside you. Your name, Jon, is Hebrew for God’s gift or God has given. Your surname is French, meaning knowledge. Altogether, you name means God has given knowledge. You come from a long line of seers, Jon- practitioners who specialize in understanding. Typically, this sort of practitioner is sought out to gain knowledge of the future, or a person’s fortune, sometimes even, to find out about past events. But few know that seers have the ability to understand much more. As a seer, one who knows, you can tap into the knowledge of any object and know its past, present and future. That knowledge becomes power to your kind. There are others who would like to take that power for themselves, or even destroy it.

“I’m sorry, but this just can’t be true. That’s crazy. I mean so what if my name means that. That has nothing to do with anything.” Jon was dizzy from the irrationality of the situation. “My family is nothing like that.” He said, shaking is head. And besides, none of this can even be real. “We’re just a normal group of people who immigrated to the states after world war one. Everyone is just regular. I think you are mistaking me for someone else. And I think you must be either nuts or part of some delusion I must be having.”

“No! Your mother did not name you by mistake.” His severity jarred Jon. “Your name is proof. That clock is proof. The shadow within it is proof. The fact that you were awake to face it is proof. And that you are still alive is all proof!” He stared Jon down. “In the lines of seers there is no guarantee the gift will present itself to each generation. It ebbs and flows over time, but is never bred out. The gift itself remains present enough within each descendant to ensure they follow the path necessary to continue the line, working through their subconscious. This self-preserving power, which feels so natural, like an intuition, nearly ended with you last night. But it didn’t. It did just what it was meant to do. Without even realizing it, you have known something was coming for several days, but having no prior experience with magic, you couldn’t unravel the meaning behind your restlessness until the moment was upon you. You are the first Sait to awaken in over 150 years.”

“Awaken?” Sure, this was crazy, but Jon was hooked. He wanted to know more.

“In the community of practitioners, close bonds are formed among households, and with the world of sorcery being a much smaller cosm than common society, most of the households are connected in some way or another. This has been the case of yours and mine for some time. The connection between our families spans over 500 years. We have provided one another with services for centuries, and this, what I’m doing for you now, is one of those. During the ebbing periods your family goes through, the secret knowledge your family gains fades with the power, and is often forgotten. We are the protectors of that knowledge, and the safe keepers of your household during these periods of temporary dissolution. Now that you have awakened to your power, the time has come to transfer those arts back into the hands of their rightful owner, so you can protect your household, and help us in return.

 

Up to this point, Jon was engrossed but was feeling as far out of his depth as a grade school in a Theoretical Physics lecture. “… But wait, what? Help you? What do you mean by that? I know literally nothing about any of this. How is a person like me supposed to help you?”

“You are the emergent head of an old and powerful family of practitioners. When you have learned your family’s histories, and have acquired all your power, you will know what you can do. It would be wrong to burden a man with the weight of his destiny before he even knows the path of his journey.”

“Ooookay, Confucius. Look, I think it’s time I left now.” Jon said shifting toward the door.

Smiling between taking another drag from his pipe, Master Zhang said, “You’re right. You need rest. Mr. Zhang will lead you to a place where you may sleep, and wash the smell of cheap alcohol from you.”

The returned jab was slap in the face. He knew he’d overstepped his bounds. “Zhang. Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have called you Confucius.”

“Probably not.” The man said nodding courteously, smiling.

“And Thank you. I’m not sure what all this is, or if it’s even real, but if it is … I …  I appreciate your help,” Jon nodded hesitantly in gratitude. After all, what choice did he have but to trust them. If this was real, he was thousands of miles from home, and had nowhere and nobody to turn to. Playing this out was the safest bet.

“It is an honor and my duty to assist you. Make sure you rest well. You will feel better once get to the safe-house. I will make the necessary arrangements. Tomorrow will begin a rigorous journey for you. You must exercise arts none of your predecessors have performed. These are dangerous times. And even seers must be able to protect themselves, and fight when necessary.”

“Wait, I almost forgot,” Jon shifted back toward the master. What was that light thing I made?

“In truth, that was your first step, and, also a declaration of war. You must become dangerous.” The master smiled. “You may go.” He spoke with finality and Jon knew that was the most he was going to get out of him for the time being.

Jon turned and began walking to the door which opened in front of him without prompt or physically touch. Zhao had returned to escort him out. They moved to walk out.

Master Zhang called to him before he crossed the threshold. “Oh yes, and don’t forget your clock. But first…” He held the clock in one hand and waved another over it, muttering indiscernibly. Then without seeing it move, the small alarm clock was suddenly hovering in front of his face. Jon gasped in surprise but grabbed the clock from the air. He turned with wide eyes toward Master Zhang and nodded unblinking, feeling thunderstruck. He left the room as quickly as possible.

When he emerged on the other side of the doorway, Jon was standing in a strange new place. Looking out a large window to his right he could see snow dusting the ground, and mountains, so many mountains. There were large pines around, and he could see other parts of the building from his vantage point. It was large and made of stone, appearing to be very old. The sky was overcast, leaving everything in a dim cold grey, though the clouds seemed thin. Everything was diffused, and a mist engulfed the grounds. Were they in the clouds? How high up in altitude was he, and where did China go? Hearing footsteps, he turned in the doorway. It was now a very large and high-ceilinged hall. A small group walked by through an adjoining corridor, seeming not to notice him. They were dressed in dark grey robes, and they weren’t Asian. They must have been monks, but why would the old man take him to a monastery? Didn’t Christians hate witchcraft? This should have bothered him more, but he had succumbed to the idea that it was all just a very strange dream and he would wake up on his mattress back in New Jersey and everything would be normal again.

But in the meantime, he was watching the monks. They each carried a large stack of books, but one of them carried a large box as well. He seemed to be struggling a bit under the weight. They were in a hurry. “Get moving, we don’t have much time. Did you finish getting the room ready?” The oldest looking one was speaking.

“This is such short notice. We simply aren’t prepared,” whined one that appeared to be about Jon’s age. He couldn’t pin it, but something was strange with the way they spoke.

“Quiet, he might be listening. For all we know they’ve already brought him.” A couple of the men looked around nervously. “You don’t want him to think we don’t have it together do you?” said the oldest of the men, driving his point home.

“Hey you! We go in here.” Old man Zhao was motioning him back inside the room. Not wanting to find anything he might not be able to handle alone, Jon complied. He walked into the room and closed the door. All he noticed at this point was a bed. An amazing, comfortable looking bed. “Tonight, you sleep here.”

“No arguments here.” He said sitting down on its edge, sinking into it like a cloud.

“Not yet! The old man said, waving him over to him. “You stink. Take a bath.” The last word drug out of his mouth with distain. Jon stood up, reluctant to leave the comfort of the very large bed. Very soon bed, very soon. He made an I’m watching you motion with his fingers as he walked to away from the bed. The old man led him around a set of large room dividers. Jon was pleased to see a jacuzzi sized bath, steaming and filling the air with a soothing smell. “This your bath. I’m busy. Get in. Hurry!” Old man Zhang clearly had no sense of how much he was destroying this awesome moment. “I am going.” The old man said as Jon stripped and climbed into the tub.

“Oh, okay.” Only barely acknowledging the old man’s presence as his feet hit the water. It was nice. The tub was flush with the floor. It felt more like climbing into a pool for a dip then taking a bath. The water was perfect. As he kicked back, all his concerns drifted away as if being carried off by a current. He began to feel far away as his muscles relaxed. He hadn’t realized how tense he’d been. But that was probably to be expected after nearly being murdered by a shadow and then being teleported, possibly twice among many other bizarre discoveries. There was too much to keep track of in his tired state. As he tried to retain his thoughts to sort through them, they seemed to become more slippery. He closed his eyes to concentrate harder, but everything began going fuzzy and grey like the mist outside. Grey, to white, to a red color. The soft light in the room shining through the back of his eyelids faded to thick velvet darkness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3: The Magical Jackpot

He’d been dreaming. That’s right, just dreaming. Jon sat up, vaguely recalling a fragmented assortment of bizarre events. He winced from the light streaming across his face. Sitting up he discovered himself to be laying in a king size bed with silk sheets and an embroidered tapestry like duvet. He looked around to observe the room. Particles of foggy memories of going through a door into a large stone building came back to him. Just kidding, not a dream. A jumbled version of everything reconnected with terrible rapidity. The stress of it all hit him hard, making his head hurt.

Still grappling with his situation, he took in his environment. The room around him was brighter than Master Zhang’s study had been. But wait, he wasn’t still in the master’s home, was he? No, that was right, it wasn’t. He had the thought, recalling passing through the door and getting in the bath. … Wait, had he drowned? A claustrophobic feeling came over him. What if I’m underwater right now? He slapped himself hard. Nope, this was real. He really was there, or else he was having an incredibly realistic dream. Either way, he wasn’t drowning. He breathed deeply, grateful his lungs weren’t filled with water.

Traveling through two portals in one night had thrown him psychologically and made him unsure of his sense of reality. He didn’t even know where in the world he was. The walls in his present surroundings were a blueish, almost purple tint of grey with very large European paintings. Everything was so different from the design he had noticed the night before. There were glass French doors leading to what must have been either a veranda, or a very large balcony. The furniture was delicate and precise, in a Southern European way, he thought, trying to pin his whereabouts. So far, mission failed, but he felt he was closing in. He wished Old Man Zhao would show up. He needed clarification. And a familiar face would have been nice as well. He sat in the silence for several more minutes.

The air was still and quiet, making him more uncomfortable as time passed, like being a guest in a house, but the hosts had left without saying they were going- except really, they hadn’t actually shown up at all. Did anyone even know he was here? He stood up out of bed. He was now wearing a soft cotton bathrobe. When did I put that on? As nice as the apparent situation seemed to be, he was wishing more and more for it to be a dream. He walked over to the French doors. Pulling back the curtains, he… wait. What the heck is this? Where the hell was he now? Looking out, all he could see was miles and miles of mountains, so high up that clouds intermingled with them. Where have they brought me to?!

Panic was legitimately setting in. He ran to the bedroom door. Wait. There might be anything on the other side. He hesitated, wondering whether it was safe to walk through, afraid of another shadow or something worse that might pop out from the other side. Then again, he had to figure out what was going on eventually, and they had said it was a safe house. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

Mr. Zhang stood before him, as if expecting him. Jon could have hugged the sour old man. Zhang bowed slightly. “You sleep for long time” he said tapping a cheap looking watch. “Almost evening now. This Mr. Edward Talbot,” he gestured with his hand in revelatory fashion to the man on his right maintaining his bowed posture while simultaneously sidestepping to the left. His hand went down as his head came up in unison. “Mr. Talbot will help you recover family’s history.”

First things first. “Wait. Where are we now?” Jon was confused again. Behind Mr. Zhang and Mr. Talbot was a large long stone hallway, with ornate rot-iron chandeliers. It looked like a picture from a magazine about foreign country homes, remind Jon how clueless he currently was.

“We arrive in France this morning. Master Zhang tell you this. you travel to new home in Alps. Why so confused?” It was more a reproach than a question. Clearly Jon was the icon of idiocy in the eyes of Mr. Zhang, who obviously lacked patience for anything that even remotely resembled the moronic.

“I uh ... I just didn’t expect … I thought I would have a chance to prepare for the trip. How … How did the entire room …? But wait. You didn’t tell me we were going to France! I’m in France?! How am I supposed to get home?!

Mr. Zhang continued, unfazed by Jon’s outburst. “Room connected to both houses. Easy magic. You learn someday.” He literally rolled his eyes at this, igniting a fire inside Jon.

Apparently sensing something, the third man spoke up as his eyes traveled quickly between his company. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Master Sait. We have been looking forward to your arrival.” He owned a fruity English accent. “I’ve been informed of your situation. Unfortunately, the nature the events surrounding your departure make it impossible for you to return to your apartment I’m afraid. In time, I hope you will feel comfortable calling this place your home.”

“Umm… Thank you,” said Jon. “But I really can’t stay here. I’ve got to get back to my family and my job.”

“But sir, this is your castle. This is your job now.” Talbot sounded resolute and irritatingly optimistic.

“Wait… you look familiar.” Jon though hard for a moment. “That’s it! You were in my dream, or I mean, not dream, last night! I saw you and some people talking strangely while carrying books! Well actually, one of you was carrying a large box, but yeah. Weird.” Jon was proud to have sorted out this recollection.

“Oh, I see. In fact, that was not a dream. It was I you saw carrying the box. Though I don’t recall seeing you. Where was this?”

“Last night, as I came through the portal.”

“Oh!! that explains it then!” Jon wondered if his enthusiasm was feigned. “You must have still been partially inside the portal. A person is not visible until they fully emerge if you are on the back side of an opening. It’s a complicated matter of physics. You see, technically, you weren’t really here yet, Master Sait.” A sudden look of concern came over Mr. Talbot. “Oh dear, I do hope you didn’t hear anything distressing, did you?” It dawned on Jon that the group of men had been referring to him.

“Hold on. Master What?” Jon was only just registering the formality with which he was being addressed. To be fair, he had just woken from a heavy sleep after two days of sleep deprivation and teleported half way around the world twice. Honorifics hadn’t been something he was concerned with till just now. Why was he being spoken to like this?

“Well,” Mr. Talbot said, “you are Jon Sait are you not? The newly awakened Lord Seer? We were instructed by Master Zhang that Jon Sait would be arriving this morning as the new head of the great Sait family. It has been more than 150 years since our order has been presided over; the longest gap between masters our order has ever seen. Not to worry though young sir, as your viceroy, I’ve take responsibility to maintain everything in as good condition as it was previously left.” He smiled with a note of pride. ” Though, I must say to require such a long interim of me…”

“Wait, you were the Viceroy appointed to my predecessor? How old are you?” Jon eyed him suspiciously. His answer would determine how much trust Jon could spare him.

“Oh, hundreds of years sir. In fact, prior to my current appointment, I served for a time under the crown of Elizabeth 1.” So… no trust then.

“Hold it, how is that even possible?”

“What do you mean sir?  Since practitioners came to be, we have lived extraordinarily long lives. Why, Master Zhao for example is well over 800 years old, though very few know his actual age.”

Jon wanted to laugh, and did. “That man wasn’t a day older than 35. You can’t stand there and tell me he’s over 800.”

But sir, I myself am over 5oo years old. I assure you, longevity is a hallmark among sorcerers. The more power one bears, the longer they live for. Why your last predecessor, though the weakest awakened Sait in centuries, even lived to be 257 years old. The oldest lived for over 1000 years, and never looked a day over 29. In fact, he only died from impalement by a magical sword. Age had nothing to do with it. Well, not directly anyway.”

A disgusted feeling rose in Jon’s chest. “This isn’t happening. I’m not really here. I’ve gone crazy, and these people,” he pointed at the two men before him, “are part of my delusion.” He turned and closed the door on the two very perplexed strange men. “I’m probably sitting on the floor in my apartment, thinking all these crazy things. That’s the only explanation that makes any sense!”

Mr. Talbot came into the room after him. “No offense, but you aren’t real.” He said, dropping face-first into the silk duvet.

“I assure you Master, this is no delusion.” Mr. Talbot looked reassuring, but also a bit concerned.

Something touched his shoulders. His raw nerves seemed to make his body more sensitive. “Aaahhh! Jon screamed as he turned swiftly to see Talbot standing practically over him.

“No need for alarm. After all, I helped enchant this room, of course I would be able to pass through its doors easily.” Jon was probably going into shock, and wasn’t hiding it well. Not that he cared.

“Ugh… I don’t even know what to do now.” Jon said, flipping back over into the covers.

“Of course not, that’s why you’ve been sent here.” Master, if you would, hmmm … consider the possibility that this is real, I think we may be able to help you acclimate a bit more easily.

Where exactly is ‘here’?” Jon said shortly. His voice was muffled by the pillow raising a hand blindly at the general direction of the window.

“We are currently located at the Order’s chief estate, your new residence, Chateau de Toutes Choses. We are located high in the French Alps, to evade discovery by common men. And there are wards and barriers surrounding the castle so only friends of the order can come here.” He said beaming.

“You keep talking about this being an Order. What do you mean by that? Are you a bunch of Wizard monks or something?” Jon’s voice retained a sardonic quality.

Talbot seemed not to notice Jon’s attitude. “Well, we can go into greater detail later, but the short if it is, in the community of practitioners, or as you call them-wizards, there are multiple orders, or Powers That Be.  This order commands the oversight of prophetic and knowing classes of practitioners and guides the development of the craft, all while helping to maintain the balance of power-though all orders do their part in that. Mind you, it is not exclusive to that, and not all practitioners who are seers submit to our systems. They may belong to other orders based on personal interests or may even be rogue magicians. Some even belong to unrecognized orders or covens. Ultimately however, all wisdom gained by seers or those whose powers relate to the practice, must inevitably flow through us. This is the natural way, and supersedes tradition. It is integrated into the very infrastructure of the balance, the order of the world itself. We are part of nature, part of destiny. Our deepest sense of Duty is to ensure that the gift of seeing is not misused or otherwise used to sway the balance inappropriately.” He spoke as if giving an enjoyable lecture on some pet passion. Though, as Jon thought this, he realized, he probably was.

“Soooo… Wizard-monks then. This sounds like part of a schizophrenic episode to me,” Jon shamelessly retorted. He was not ready to give up on it being a dream yet.

With the same unfailing grin, Mister Talbot said, “Permit me to show you, Master” bowing deeply.

Jon weighed the offer for a moment. “Hmm, guess it couldn’t hurt. Okay. Prove it.” And while you’re at it, can you explain what happened last night?”

“Of course, but first you will want to change out of that robe.” Jon looked at himself. Yes, he looked like a girl at a spa. Time for a change.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4: Magical Monks and The Electric Slide

 

Apparently, all wizard-monks traditionally wore more, well, traditional clothing. Though instead of the dark grey woolen robes the other monks donned, Jon’s was white linen. It was reasonably comfortable, but draftier than he was used to. He was thankful the castle was well heated. He decided on wearing his own shoes instead of the provided slippers. He looked out of place in high-tops as he walked along, but he was comfortable.

Once he was changed and had his hair pulled back in a topknot, he was ready for his tour, feeling like he’d stepped into a scene from Monty Python’s Quest for the Holy Grail.

“As we begin sir, you must remember that everything here is under your dominion now. Think of yourself as a Lord. That is the closest analogy there is for a man of your position. There are those of us who will refer to you in such a way. It is important for you to note, for purposes of future diplomacy, that your position here is unique among heads of orders.”

“How do you mean?” Jon asked.

“Well,” Talbot continued. “The order of the seers was the first order to be established by an individual instead of a collective group. Your ancestor, the first Lord Seer, collected a vast amount of knowledge regarding the gift, and was affluent in his own right. Being a charismatic person, other seers rallied around him, devoting themselves to his service in exchange for his guidance. He was uniquely talented, and regarded literally the world over. He became much like a king, hence the title “Lord Seer”. There are no other Lords in wizard kind, excepting of course those who hold common human titles. But your lineage is the only one that actually presides dynastically within the magical community. You are the closest thing to royalty that exists to wizards.” Talbot looked at Jon appraisingly. “That said, it also means that the order is quite literally your property, which puts you in a delicate position, politically as well as magically. The Order of the Seers stands on a precipice between maintaining the balance and breaking it. Because of this, the order acts as both guide as well as servant to the rest of the world of practitioners.

“Well, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like how that sounded.” He smirked a little for the first time in two days. “But how does this put me in a delicate position magically?” He raised quote fingers around the word magically.

“Well,” Talbot began. “You see…Now this is a controversial issue mind you, but I’m speaking regarding the balance. It is a force much as electromagnetism is a force, but operates independently from the laws of physics. It exists within our universe, but is also free from it. The trouble is that the universe is not free from it. There is a kind of connection between magic, psychic energy, and the fabric of space-time. When magic is generally equally distributed in a sort of network alongside psychic energy within space and time in a positive shift, the universe is in balance. Now this is a holistic concept, mind you, and poorly understood, but essentially when power, magical power, is unevenly distributed along a singular axis, it strains the balance, and can quite literally rupture time and space. It would cause a singularity that would effectively disintegrate what we call existence. At least, that’s the popular notion. There are other perspectives on the issue, but this is the most plausible theory.” He paused, apparently waiting for a response. Jon was digesting the information. “So, as a centralized power, to prevent energies from pooling around you and the order, you are bound to serve the common benefit of all things, typically as a guide, sharing your knowledge. Of course, thankfully, this means the level of responsibility is determined to some extent by the power and intelligence held by a given Lord. The heads of other orders are not given this kind of authority over others or magic itself, typically balancing itself out naturally.”

“So why didn’t the order just dissolve itself? Why don’t people just revoke the rights from the Saits? Not that I’m crazy about that idea, but wouldn’t it be the best way to protect the… well, everything?” Jon asked.

“It would stunt progress and thwart world order in incredible ways, sending us back into the magical dark ages. It also means there would be no one to protect certain forces, which could be just as dangerous or more so.” A glint of a shadow crossed over Talbot’s face, but he recovered quickly.

“What forces are you talking about?” Jon’s interest was piqued, due in no small part to it now being his responsibility.

“You protect knowledge as much as you share it. There are other things as well, but we will get to that in time. For now, I’ve told you quite a bit more than an introduction merits. We still have to give you a tour today and there are many more introductions to be made!” He chuckled, with a bow, motioning Jon toward the door.

“So, you were going to tell me about last night. I assume you were filled in by Mr. Zhang?” Jon said as they exited the room.

“Yes, in fact I was. Oh, and I should tell you. Mr. Zhang went by portal back to China when you closed the door. He seemed put off.” Talbot smiled. Jon wondered if there wasn’t a sense of satisfaction behind the expression. “In the mean-time however, if you need to speak to a representative of the Zhang household, simply ask, at least until you learn the art for intra-dimensional communication yourself that is.”

Jon chuckled. “So … Like what, none of you guys have cell phones?”

Talbot put his hand to his mouth gasping in affront. “Cellular devices are greatly inferior to the arts we practice for communication.”

“And those are….?”

“Telepathy, crystal balls, vision pools, mirrors, astral projection and there are more sophisticated means that would be difficult to explain to you at your present level of knowledge. In fact, this kind of magic is something our Order specializes in. We have means of communicating with others that are kept secret from outsiders. It’s part of how we distinguish ourselves from other groups in dangerous times. To be sure, these are such times. Besides, there’s no cell reception here.” His smile had faded into a grim expression.

Dangerous times. Jon took note that this was the second time a powerful sorcerer had said that in a twenty-four-hour span. “So… options then. Okay. That’s a start.” Said Jon, not quite ready for such a foreboding conversation.

Talbot raised his brow and smiled reassuringly. Prompted by a sudden though he said “Back to the matter at hand. You wanted to know more of the details surrounding yesterday evening, or rather, very early this morning. Well, I do know that you unwittingly cast a binding spell on a very powerful familiar. Once you bind a familiar, it is like a form of imprisonment. With basic binding spells, such as you did, in which one contains someone or something within an object, it must remain close to the caster to retain power. At some point, you must learn a stronger form of binding, that doesn’t require you to be near what you’ve bound. This current form, while functional, perpetually taps into your energies as a power source for maintaining the charm. More sophisticated binding spells use the energies in other things, such as the binding object itself, or in the highest forms of binding, the power of the one being bound. That is the ultimate imprisonment. It seals the bound in a frozen state, unable to even think. It is as if time stops for them. The only greater punishment is destruction itself.

“Wow. That’s really intense.” But how did I do it? I’ve never used magic in my life.” Jon said, uncertain of himself.

“Is that so? Hmm... Tell me something master. You have a scar on your left shoulder that cuts down to your sternum correct? How did you get that scar?”

“When I was a teenager, I was in a car accident. But how did you know that” Talbot waved a dismissive hand at the question. Resigned, Jon resumed his explanation. “We hit a powerline in a rain storm. A transformer fell onto the car and an arch of electricity ran across me. It burned me, but even though it had so much energy behind it, I didn’t die. The doctors said it was a miracle.”

“All things have a memory. When you were struck by that electricity, which had been channeled and contained by that transformer, your power likely spiked. This was probably the first signal of awakening. At that time Master Zhang, who as you know has been guarding you, detected your potential, and began making preparations for the moment you were actualized as a sorcerer. The moment you cast your first spell.”

“You see, that energy retained memory of being channeled and contained, and when it passed through, it passed on that information. You absorbed that information, and due to the traumatic nature of the event, it bore into your subconscious as important. Your latent power is what enabled you to contain it using that information. It was in truth, the beginnings of a casting. As a seer, you must learn the value of this event. Nothing happens without reason. Without knowing it, you walked intentionally into that moment. You chose the path that would lead up to that car accident. Without it, you would not have gained the knowledge to bind the shadow that you now carry around in that clock.” He pointed at the little alarm clock on Jon’s bedside table. “That is why when you bound the familiar, the light looked electric. Tell me, from the moment you had the accident, the scar was sensitive and often sent shocks through your body when touched, did it not?”

“Yeah, how’d you know that?”

“It’s my job to know. Your family has had watchmen keeping guard using our gifts for centuries.  Though we have always deferred this information to Master Zhang, who was always the best suited practitioner to protect you, given the arrangements.” he smiled in a strange way. His mouth moved, but nothing from his nose up so much as flinched. “Now, tell me, since last night, have you felt any bolts of pain at all?”

“Hmm, now that you mention it, no. I usually wake up with shooting pains, but last night I slept like a log.” Jon mused at the thought, feeling enlightened.

“You acquired the knowledge to bind from that event. Part of that energy became trapped inside your scar, binding itself to you. Seer’s learn primarily by experience. This was your first experience. When you finally released the spell, the energy was free to escape. After so long inside your body, it had become something like a part of you, no longer able to exist without your will or presence, just like your own energy. This makes what you did quite like a basic binding spell. Though, truthfully, it’s not quite so simple as that, but this is the easiest way to explain the situation.”

“I get it.” He said, half lying.  “So why was that thing after me in the first place?” Was he finally going to get the answer to the question he wanted?

“Well, things have changed in the balance recently. There is division among the groups. The orders are supposed to be neutral forces, working together to ensure the world stays in order. But one of the orders has been corrupted. A dark power has risen from within its ranks, and usurped command, creating a splinter group. Unsatisfied with the control of one order, the dark sorcerer behind the rogue order began robbing un-awakened practitioners of their energies. In other words, he’s been eating the souls of wizards who cannot control their powers yet, among many other terrible things. In your case, he sent his own familiar. It would have been the most likely way to get the job done without risking their own life, considering your potential. Thankfully it wasn’t enough.” The man seemed concerned now.

“You’re new to all this, and know near to nothing of our societies roles. But by birth right, you are the new leader of the highest Order of practitioners. Though you have not yet ascended, you are the new Arch-mage. This is a title reserved for the strongest sorcerer alive. That role deferred to Master Zhang in the absence of leadership among our order, but you master, have the greatest potential of all sorcerers living today. I only tell you this to explain. You see, the mage that sent his familiar to apprehend you, wanted your soul as a guarantee. Eating your soul is the same as taking on your role. He would become as powerful as you. And though you haven’t experienced it yet, your potential is quite impressive master. It has been seen. Of course, fate does not write with a chisel, and things can change in rare instances, but there is no doubting your power.

Please don’t think this failure to apprehend your power means this person isn’t formidable yet. Some people think he is building his strength to ultimately go after the souls of all the current Masters in practicing society. He’s already taken a few powerful rogues and many un-awakened with varying degrees of potential. We think he may be working his way up the ladder.

Jon had waited for Talbot to finish. “So why are there Masters anyway?” Jon asked. The question had been plaguing him during the conversation. “Why couldn’t all wizards simply operate like people in normal society do and live more autonomously.”

“Well, technically they could, and some do. But magic is fickle, and there are those with a special knack for it. In magical tradition, knowledge is guarded closely, due to its powerful nature. Therefore, those with the most skill are often charged with guardianship over it.’

‘You see, magicians are a natural phenomenon. We exist within humanity, but aren’t quite human. Some mages even refer to us distinctly as Homo Sapien Magicae. We are certainly human enough to breed, but there are subtle differences in brain chemistry and wavelengths. We sync to our environments more readily, and can tap into metaphysical forces at will. Normal humans simply don’t possess the qualities needed to do that. They’re just different in that way. A mage might produce a human child, but a human can never conceive a mage. The traits are either passed down or not.”

“Ummm, that didn’t really answer my question.”

“My apologies. I tend to rabbit trail…” Talbots smile widened. “Because it is so important to guard these secrets, and certain kinds of power are inherently successive, it makes sense to entrust the most dearly guarded secrets to the most powerful people. So, millennia ago, some of the strongest practitioners came together and made a binding pact. They bound the secrets of their crafts to themselves to better protect them from people who were seeking them for the sake of power. This binding is life-long. When a practitioner becomes a master, it cannot be undone until he dies. All masters perform these rights, excepting that your house inherits them, though you cannot fully come into the knowledge of your house’s secrets until you perform the rights as well. You’ve inherited one of those bindings generationally. You see, although your families power ebbs and flows over time across the generations, the potential in your lineage is still that of one of most power crafting lines in the world, and when this pact was made, it directly interwove your destiny with that of the secret arts of the seers.”

But if that’s true than how is it possible for other people to learn these secrets. Well, as the inherent binder of the spell, you have the power to control the dissemination of that knowledge. You can teach it to others. But once they have acquired it, it is still impossible to for them to relay it to others as well. This power is only passed to one person per lineage, the Master of the Order.”

“But I don’t know any secret arts or whatever.” Jon was getting weighed down with information now, and frustrated too.

“I know sir. Here you will learn them.”

“But, if no one else alive can teach me, how am I supposed to learn? This is so convoluted.” The plot hole frustrated Jon and his trust in his situation was beginning to unravel.

“I was hoping you would arrive at that question!” The middle-aged looking man bounced along flamboyantly. “You see, that’s where I come in. I’m an alchemist, which does your order little good, but I’m also a medium. There was a time when all Europe regarded my skills as a skryer to be unequaled. This skill falls directly under your authority. Mediumship is directly associated with the powers of knowing. We will channel your ancestors, and they will instruct you.”

“So, what, you’re like a necromancer?” Jon said, a little creeped out.

“DON’T, ever associate me with…” Talbot paused and took deep breath, frowning darkly. “Forgive me. Master, take care not to confuse the two. Mediums act as doors through which the dead, deities, and other spirits can engage with the physical plane. Necromancy is something else entirely, and has nothing to do with our kind of power. Necromancers do not rely on knowing. They are takers. They assert power over the dead and force them to rise, usually in spirit, but sometimes, in the cases of very powerful practitioners, bodily. This art is dark, dangerous, and ignores the balance.” As he finished he recovered his grin.

“Oh, I… I see. Sorry for insulting you.” Jon felt perhaps they were getting off on the wrong foot.” Just what was behind that smile anyway?

“There is no way you could have known that, given you’ve only just begun engagement with magic.” He continued walking in silence. Jon still felt bad. He seemed to have struck a terrible chord.

They passed through several corridors and down a spiral staircase into a long hall. “Mr. Talbot, you said my ancestor looked only about 28 when he died at the age of 800, but you said you were around 500 years old, and you appear about 50 years old. I’m confused. This doesn’t make sense.” Hopefully age to wizards wasn’t as touchy a subject as with people. And hopefully, a new topic would thaw the ice in the air.

“Well,” Talbot perked instantly, apparently having completely shaken the offence. Success topic change. Good job Jon. “you see, a practitioner ages abstractly. Some age nearly as quickly as people, while others seem to not age at all. There are at least two factors in the process. The first is the age of awakening. Which you hit it the lottery on, having awakened at the age of 25. From the moment of awakening, if a sorcerer is fully grown, they will begin aging based on their magical potential. For some that is nearly limitless, for these people, they seem to hardly age at all. I suspect this will be the case with you. It is believed that some wizards have the potential for immortality, so long as they don’t die by means other than disease or aging, such as impalement, bisection, burning, or poison.”

“Oh my God” Jon recoiled. “That’s disgusting.”

“That’s how it is. Historically, this hasn’t been much of a concern for our people, since most actual witches and mages are nearly never burned at the stake. But things are changing. Up until the last two hundred years, most sorcerer deaths occurred in wizard duels or magical accidents. That isn’t the case anymore.”

“Dangerous times I guess” Was all Jon could say.

“Look at that. We’re here!” before them was erected a set of 12-foot-tall doors at the end of an arched corridor. The doors bore the same pointed arch shape as the ceiling.

“Where?”

“The dining-room.”

Jon ate a good dinner/breakfast, which Talbot ensured was very necessary for what was about to happen, they took time to meet the servants of the house hold. In their rounds, Jon discovered his new home functioned as a sort of a monastery or temple. Wizard-monks. Nailed it. People in his order apparently traveled here from all over the world to learn and do research or perform lengthy meditations and fasts. So, kind of a wizard-monk university then.

After their tour, Talbot had to part company for a while to attend to some of the visitors who had come for consultations. This left Jon to his own devices for a while, since he was still so green.

Wow, I guess I won’t be needing to go back to work at the supermarket. The manager’s an a*****e anyway. He found his way into a courtyard, with circular paths that wove in and out of one another, intersected by other geometric shapes and strange words written along the path in gold inlay. A strange old fountain rested in the center. It was oddly warm for being high in the alps, and there was a lot of greenery, with no traces of snow. Also, the fountain seemed to be non-functional, though there was water in it.

Jon paced around for a bit. The paths had a hypnotic effect on him that Jon blamed on the constant circular motion. Eventually, he ended up at the pool. The water was still as glass, and silvery, reflecting the sky. When he peered down, something was strange. It didn’t reflect his image back at him.

Suddenly the pool rippled outward from the center of his vision. As it did, imagery appeared. Fire. Jon slowly became aware of the sound of screaming. The voices seemed to be coming through a thick wall of mud, muffled. Then Jon saw a face, but something was wrong with it. It looked like a man, but also like an animal. It seemed almost cat-like, or maybe like a serpent? It didn’t seem to make sense. Then he saw a flying ship with large wings mounted on its sides. Weird…

“Jon.” At the sound of his name, the vision rippled and the fountain went to placid black again.

It was Talbot. “See anything interesting?” his smile looked mischievous.

“What is that thing?” Though, he had truthfully mostly figured out what it’s purpose was.

“That’s a vision pool. This is a meditation garden. You walk these paths, and go into a trance, and when you arrive at the pool, it acts as a tool through which you see visions.” This man was way too off the cuff. He spoke so flippantly about it.

“Oh, so that’s all it is then.” Jon hoped the irony would come across. “So, I just saw the future then?”

“Or the present, or the past, or a warning. The visions we see in trances, are unpredictable,” He became oddly serious suddenly, and very much like a high-school teacher in demeanor. “With enough skill, you can see into specific avenues, such as a person’s past, present or future, and gifted practitioners can even find answers to specific questions. But for an untrained sorcerer, the events are convoluted, sometimes blending together past, present, future, and even desire. You need to know that even with future sight, while most things are absolute, with all avenues flowing to the same end, there are still things which have a wide range of potential outcomes, able to disrupt the course of destiny. Regarding the future, you may be seeing a warning, a hope, or another possibility.” He seemed to be looking inside of Jon now. It was unsettling. “Most likely what you saw was a hodgepodge mix of things, past present and future possibilities. It could even reflect desires or fears, that have nothing to do with reality at all.”

“This is really complicated.” His head was beginning to hurt. Was it from the overwhelming load of information and its importance, or from what he had just seen?

“You have entered into the business of everything, I’m afraid.” He sighed “Well, Master, that was your first lesson for the day. I think it’s time you rested.” As soon as Talbot said that, Jon began to collapse. Talbot caught him and slung his arm over his shoulder.

He could barely keep his eyes open. “Why do I feel so awful?”

“Most likely it’s from that bit of high magic you just did.” That was no easy trick. Most men meditate for days before reaching the pool to gaze. You were only there for several hours. Of course, the most skilled practitioners can forego the meditation process altogether, having honed the skill to see.”

“Is the pool really such a difficult tool to use?” Thinking made his head throb.

“The pool itself isn’t magical at all, though truthfully after centuries of men gazing through it, it has become a sort of in-between place. It is only a vessel. The spell that you cast was your doing, not the fountain’s.”

“But I wasn’t trying to cast a spell.” I was just following the path.

“Wrong, Master Sait. As a seer, you have the potential to see beyond the scope of here and now at any time. When you began walking on the pathway, you slipped into a form of meditation. This facilitates a seer’s power. It makes them easier to engage. By using a vision tool, you activated that power unintentionally.”

At this point, Jon wasn’t really listening. He was beginning to nod off. They arrived at the door to his room after about 10 minutes, which seemed much shorter to Jon. Talbot helped Jon sit on the bed where he immediately fell asleep. He hadn’t realized it, but he had already been awake for over 10 hours, and although the courtyard seemed bright as daytime, it was quite late in the evening.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 5: Bindings are Permanent

 

The next morning, Jon woke up with what felt like a slight hangover. Opening his eyes, he saw a face hovering about three feet above him. It belonged to a young man, or rather young-looking. For all Jon knew the face might have been hundreds of years old if what Talbot had said was true. The thin pale face was staring with a slight grin, and overly excited eyes. He looked crazy, which was one of the most alarming things Jon had even woken up to.

“Ummmm… hi?” Jon said awkwardly, pulling his duvet up tight against him like a woman caught in shame.

“Oh! Hello Master Sait.” The face seemed to instantly realize its awkwardness, readjusting to a shy reproached smile. “I’m your retainer.” The thin man said bowing. He looked no older than 19. “My name’s Daniel. I’ve been sent to fetch you for breakfast.” He stood silent for a moment, waiting for a response. “Oh, sorry! Overshed. My full name is Daniel Overshed.” He nodded as he spoke. His original grin returned but Jon could see patchy red creeping into his face. “I have to say sir, it’s an honor to be in your service. Is there anything I can get for you?”

“Alka-Seltzer. Or Ibuprofen. Both would be better” Jon croaked.

“We can arrange for that at the table,” Daniel said, nodding slightly, still red-faced. “We should hurry though. The rest of the household is waiting for you to begin the meal.”

“Huh?” Jon glanced at Daniel a little confused, and slightly annoyed. He wasn’t a morning person, and the creepy wake-up call wasn’t helping.

Well, since you’re just settling in, Mr. Talbot felt that for the time being, it was best for everyone to eat together to help you get better acquainted with everyone.” He smiled blankly for a moment, blinking several times. “Plus, we’re all very excited. It’s been so long since we’ve had Sait at the castle.

“Okay. I just need a minute.” Jon sat up slowly, synching his robe as he pulled the covers back. He was still dressed in the white robes from yesterday.

“I’ve set your robes for today out for you sir.”

“Uh, thanks.” Jon saw a neatly folded set of fresh white robes at the edge of the bed.

I’m just gonna change. I’ll be ready in a minute.” He grabbed the robes, and headed for the bathroom.

The white robe hung on him loosely feeling like a linen bathrobe, but was very comfortable. Since the air was a bit chilly, he also wore an outer robe, which was slightly more ornate and a pale grey, embroidered with a shiny thread of the same color as the fabric, though the symbols seemed to catch the light more readily than the rest of the cloak robe.

He grabbed a hair tie and pulled half his hair back out of his face in a bun, letting the rest fall just past his shoulders. The effect was pretty wizardy he thought, laughing to himself.

Instead of putting on his high tops, he went for full effect and put on the slippers sitting at the edge of the bed. The outfit was more comfortable as a complete ensemble he decided, though he missed pants and his sneakers.

“Okay, let’s go.” He said to Daniel. “Mind if I call you Dan? I’m not really used to being so formal.

“You may call me anything you like sir. I’m here to serve,” He said smiling wide eyed again.

Jon sighed, “Well, okay then.”

 

The two walked down the same passages as Jon had followed the previous day with Talbot. When they got to the dining room, it was full of people, at least 40 others. Had he really met this many staff the day before? Everyone gave their good mornings in the out of sync way you would normally hear happy birthday being sung at the part where you insert the person’s name and the whole song seems to fall apart for a moment. He nodded and said, “Good morning,” stifling a slight yawn by taking a deep breath before taking his seat, followed by everyone else.

This is weird. He was being given the royal treatment for literally no reason. He was uncomfortable, and feeling very conspicuous, partly for the situation, partly for his outfit, and partly for how foreign this all felt. They must have the wrong guy. This isn’t me. This isn’t my life.

More people came out of the kitchen carrying trays of food. It was different than the evening meal from the day before, which had been fairly decadent. This seemed earthy, full of herbs, no meat, and a lot of vegetables. There was no tea, and no coffee, just water. Drag.

“Master Sait,” Talbot said, nodding to him slightly as he scooted his chair slightly closer to Jon in-order to have more private conversation. “Today we begin the real process of your education.” For the next several weeks, you will need to fast from certain foods, especially anything that is associated with impurity. This will make the load much easier on you as you train. It helps clear the mind, and for seers, it helps them discern between thought and vision.” He must have read the disappointed look on Jon’s face when he saw the meal. Was he such an easy read?

“Okay,” Jon was trying to sound accepting and nonchalant about this information, though he was sure it sounded more bracing. “So, I’ve still got some questions nagging at me. How is it possible for my family to have forgotten about all of this? How could they have simply walked away from it?” You even said that they have strong abilities even when the line is weakened.”

“That’s a discussion we’ll need have to have another time.” Talbot said in a flippant manner, but he shot Jon a look of warning. In other words, it was a sensitive topic that shouldn’t be openly discussed in front of other people.

Jon dropped it without a response. Though he had said it quietly, he realized several other people nearby seemed to be keyed in to their conversation. They were curious as well.

The rest of the meal went by casually enough. People made small talk and chatted about the weather and duties for the day. Another retainer who sat to the left of Talbot began explaining the roles of the household members to Jon in greater detail, as well as the general functions of the castle. As it turned out it really was a sort of temple. More precisely, it was the center of knowledge for the order. His suspicions were correct. The location had been chosen for its placement on the earths lay lines, which Jon didn’t really understand, but apparently this was the ideal location for meditating and seeing beyond the veils of the physical reams or something like that. Jon wondered if that was a hocus excuse to hide up in the mountains. Talbot dumbed it down for him. Apparently, it was a place where the gap between the metaphysical and physical realities was thin, making their craft easier.

They described the history of the castle to him as well. Apparently, the structure was 2500 years old. But over the centuries there had been several additions added, and a few updates, but for the exception of his quarters, nothing more recent than the grand corridor which dated back to the Gothic period. Old stuff. That explained why the place looked so ancient. It was.

After the lengthy meal, which felt more like a history lesson, Talbot and Dan took Jon deep into the structure. “These are the sub chambers.” Talbot said. They lie below the main levels of the structures and are used for only the most secretive ceremonies. Due to the private nature of your education, we’ll conduct your lessons here.”

“Whatever you say. This place is a little creepy.” The halls were unpainted and made of stone, and it was slightly darker down here than in the rest of the chateau. The place was a long hall full of heavy looking metal doors, giving it the look of a dungeon. For all Jon knew it had been. “You’re not gonna lock me up down here are you? Jon chuckled, half joking.

“I suppose you will just have to trust us won’t you” retorted Talbot in a mischievous tone followed by an impish grin. Jon wished he could tell if the man was joking, or whether it even mattered. Talbot was already a little creepy, and impossible to read most of the time. He was also bigger, rounder, and probably stronger than Jon if it came down to a physical fight. Did wizards get into fist fights? Or did they just blast their enemies into oblivion? Neither idea set well with him.

They reached a chamber about halfway down the hall on the left side. The wooden door seemed only a little less imposing than the rest, in spite of being bound together with cast iron hinges that extended across the doors exterior in what was intended to be a decorative style. It might have seemed cool and rustic on the outside of a building, but here, it just seemed a bit formidable.

The three entered. “Daniel, collect the box and place the contents on the center dais,” Talbot instructed. There was a platform that looked like a big stone table in the middle of the room. Above it was a kind of tunnel like a chimney. Was this a sacrificial altar? Jon got the shivers, suddenly wanting nothing more than to go home. Except this is home now.

Daniel walked over to the box which was resting on a side table against the wall, producing from it a large thick book, a milky white stone talisman set in silver on a heavy looking chain, a ring, and a cluster of … bones?

“Ummm, what the hell is all that?” Jon was fixated on the skull Dan had just produced and placed on the center of the dais.

These are ancestral relics belonging to your family. The bones are those of your predecessors. Having them near while we work helps me find them while I’m channeling.

“Ugh,” Jon couldn’t help but be grossed out.

“’Ugh’ all you like my Lord, but this is how you learn. He walked over to another table and grabbed a very old book, then walked back over to the stone table. Come forward,” he instructed Jon. “This,” he pointed to the large book on the dais, is the Grimoire of the Seers of House Sait. It is the codex of secret knowledge that your family passes down from Master to Master. You will learn its contents by the guidance of your ancestors as I channel them. That is my true role in your instruction. I’m not your teacher, I am a facilitator. I have brought Daniel with us to help me come out of channeling. He is quite adept at canceling spells and pulling people out of trances. Since I will be entranced for such long periods, it will be difficult for me to bring myself out of them, and you don’t have the skills yet to do it yourself. It should put you at east to know Daniel was selected by an oracle to assist in this task.”

“An oracle?”

“Yes, when you were discovered, some of the other Masters consulted an oracle, a spirit bound to this world by an object, to learn of how to assist you. They were instructed to use myself and Daniel. Truth be told, I was the obvious choice even before the consultation, but there you have it.”

Jon looked at Daniel. He was blushing. What a weird kid. Jon was beginning to suspect he really was only about 18. “Well, look at you!” Jon said, teasing Daniel, punching him in the arm. “The kid must have chops then, huh?”

Daniel’s grin widened as he continued to look at his feet, but was obviously proud.

“Daniel is a prodigy, and awakened as a child. He’s well suited for the task.”

“Okay, so what do we do?” Jon asked curiously.

Moving from the grimoire, he picked up the talisman. “This amulet is the object imbued with the binding spell originally activated by your ancestors. During the initial ceremony, we will unlock the mysteries to you. This amulet is the key.”

“I thought you said the secrets were hereditary?”

“They are. Only the heir to the secrets can unlock the mysteries, but the right must be accepted.”

“Oh, I see, sort of like a rite of passage, or receiving an inheritance?” Jon was reaching a bit for understanding to tie the scraps of knowledge together.

“Something like that, yes.” When you spoke of your family forgetting everything earlier, I could not speak openly because this is the most closely guarded secret your family holds, known only by their confidants and closest retainers. When the power in your family ebbs to the point they are not sufficiently powerful enough to maintain their mastery, the rights refuse to be passed down. At that time, to protect the weakened family and its lineage from usurpers, their memories of their lineage are erased and they live as normal people until the lineage awakens again. The secret is guarded until that time. You see, if a usurper were to destroy the line, the knowledge wouldn’t be lost, it would be open access for anyone to appropriate. A weak sorcerer wouldn’t be able to protect it from ill-meaning practitioners.”

“But what if I was an ill meaning practitioner?”

Then the safeguards on the seeing eye, this amulet, would reject your right as master and it would wait until another awakened who was powerful enough to care for its secrets. No to worry though, your gift protects your line. It would be a Sait that inherits, to be sure.”

“Everything you say is so heavy and loaded ...” Jon moaned. “Okay then, so what if I started out meaning for good, and turned bad? What would happen then?”

“Sorcery is benign, neither good or bad. So long as you intended to maintain balance, and prevent disorder, the amulet would grant you the knowledge. But if you did change, it would destroy your memory, and you would seemingly become like an ordinary person, just like the rest of your family, as you were prior to awakening. It would ensure your lineage, and lead you produce a future heir.”

“Whoa. So, my magic would make me have kids?”

“Correction, your magic will make you have children. Now, to business.” Talbot ignored Jon’s futile attempt at protest. “We will initiate the binding spell. This spell binds the object to you. Once activated, you will never be able to remove the talisman. It will be around your neck until you die.” Talbot spoke in a manner entirely too buoyant to be situationally appropriate.

“Good thing it’s pretty I guess.” Jon laughed, trying to shake the gravity of the conversation. So, what about the ring? What does it do?”

“That ring is also a binding object. It serves as a symbol of your mastery. It enforces the relationships of master and servant within your household. Some of the servants have already pledged themselves to the Order. When a sorcery makes a pledge, they bind themselves to their master in a contractual ritual. They can only be unbound if their master or his descendants break the contract either intentionally or otherwise. The only other ways out are the death of the servant or the consent of the master.”

“Damn. So, are you both pledged then?”

“I am,” said Talbot, but Daniel is too young. He is not full grown yet, and therefore has not slowed his aging, he is as young as he looks, and wasn’t alive when the previous master died.” So he was as young as he looked then.

“I do want to pledge though! Once you’ve taken the role officially, that is.” Daniel was clearly eager to participate in the goings on.

“Why are you so eager to enter into servitude?” Jon didn’t see the benefit in all this for a household member. “Besides, you will still have to wait until you are fully mature, right?”

“Yes, but only a household member is permitted to be taught the secrets of their master, and I want to learn everything I can.”

“The boy will make an excellent household member when he has come into his own. I’ve seen his potential.” Talbot was beaming at the boy. Jon suspected he had taken him in as a sort of pet project … and maybe something more as well?

“Well, it’s not like I’m gonna deny someone wanting to partner with me, so long as they have good intentions anyway.” Jon tried to alleviate the apparent fear on Dan’s face. Dan perked up a little, now looking back at Jon.

“We should begin,” Talbot had put his business face on. “Please disrobe sir.”

“Ahaha, what?” Jon chuckled nervously.

Talbot sighed. “When the binding spell is initiated, anything you are wearing becomes permanently bound to you. Do you really want wear the same clothes for the next several thousand years?”

“I guess not. Fair enough.”

Now, disrobe and stand up on the dais.” Jon Removed his clothes and handed them to Dan. He felt like he was prepping for surgery. He climbed stark naked up on the dais.

“Now I will begin the ceremony. Are you ready?”

“Of course not.” Jon said looking straight ahead, trying to prepare himself to whatever weirdness was about to occur.

Talbot took that as his yes. He cleared his throat and opened the old book in his hand. He began muttering in a hodgepodge mix of old languages, some sounded like Latin, some sounded Germanic, and … is that Chinese? As he spoke, the white stone in the talisman began glowing. The milky pattern of the stone began to stir as the object seemed to lose gravity, floating upward in front of Jon. It lifted itself over his head and rested down heavily on his shoulders. When the metal touched his skin, the sensation of rain poured over him. It felt cool and soft, but heavy, and growing heavier. Very quickly, he was so weighed down by the weight his knees were shaking. It forced him on all fours. It didn’t hurt, but the pressure was intense. It grew stronger and stronger. He was seeing white spots. He started screaming, everything was going white. Was it rejecting him? Was he bad? Or maybe he wasn’t the right heir? Maybe they got it wrong. Everything went black.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 6: A Very Important Meeting

 

Slowly the room came into view. He could see the blurry faces of Talbot and Dan in front of him. They looked lit up. What was shining up at them? He looked down. His body was glowing a strange white color. What was happening?

He was still shaking from the pressure, though the weight was gone now. Rising to all fours he felt sick. He sat down and looked at them. The amulet was still around his neck. The glow seemed to ebb away from his feet and finger tips, receding up to his chest, slowly absorbing into the talisman, and fading away.

“Did it work?” He could hear Dan say.

“Yes, the amulet stayed on. If it had failed, it would have lifted away from him.” He is now bound to the secrets of the Order.” There was a pause for a minute. Everything was coming back into view. “Are you all-right master Sait?” Talbot had a strange note in his voice. Worry? No, something different. Curiosity.

“I think so. I feel kind of heavy… and sick.”

Looking down, he saw he was also wearing the ring now as well. So, the old guy had done it all at once.

“You should take it a bit easy for a couple of days Sir,” Talbot cautioned. One binding spell is enough to knock anyone down for a while, but you just went through two. That’s quite a load, especially when dealing with such powerful magic.”

As Talbot spoke, Daniel draped Jon with his robe, holding onto the outer one. Dan pulled it around him, not bothering to put his arms through the sleeves. He was definitely going to throw up.

“Well sir, it’s getting late now. You should rest.” Talbot said gently to him.

“What do you mean? We only came down a moment ago.” Jon said.

“No sir, it’s nearing midnight. The ceremony took over 14 hours. We’ve been here all day.”

“What? Whoa.” Jon was shocked, but also curious. “What’s with this place and time anyway? Everything takes longer than it feels,” Jon said, holding back a wave on nausea as they helped him stand. Talbot kept him upright as Daniel put back the bones and the Grimoire back into the box.

They held him up and guided him back to his room. His brown hair was down still and in his face. All he could see was the floor. He noticed some of the household members asking after him worriedly as they passed through the corridors. His feet stalked limply along.

Once in his room they helped him under his covers, and left. He fell uneasily into sleep, still nauseous and didn’t wake for two days.

When he finally roused, Talbot and Daniel were standing at the foot of his bed. Talbot looked amused and curious, but Daniel seemed worried, like a child watching his friend do something dangerous.

“Good morning sir. How are you feeling?” Talbot inquired.

“The heaviness is gone,” said Jon sitting up, though he felt as if he himself had absorbed the weight into his body, becoming the heaviness itself.

“Good, then the binding spell has settled.” Talbot prodded Daniel who walked over to Jon with his clothes in hand. He helped him dress. No longer nauseous, he was still feeling very weak and could barely stand. His robes hung around him, and in spite of feeling like he weighed a million pounds, he noticed he looked slightly gaunt in the knees.

“Got anything to eat? I’m starving,” his stomach lurched.

“Of course, sir,” Talbot bowed. “I’ll have a tray brought up.” The “tray” turned out to be a “disappointment”. It was just a bowl of broth with herbs and root vegetables, with berries on the side. Too hungry to argue, Jon at it. Oddly, it did the trick, though it didn’t taste very good. He felt pretty good afterwards and was walking about the grounds by the afternoon. He even took supper with the staff that evening.

Over the next several days, he continued with a diet of herbs and vegetation. Unfortunate. Jon really liked meat. But his knobby knees disappeared quickly and he was looking healthy and lean again in a short few days.

After almost a week of the quazi-spa setting, Talbot and several of Jon’s retainers began teaching him basic arts. It turned out he was as a pretty fast learner. It felt less like learning and more like intuition. According to Talbot, it would be a while until he reached a level at which channeling his ancestors was necessary for his continued education. Jon was relieved to hear it. Being taught by dead people was too creepy for him just yet. And he was still getting used to the more benign forms of magic he encountered daily, floating objects, floating people, strange creatures, chimeras of different kinds, and most troubling of all, a strange vision he still didn’t understand. It was all very surreal. He still felt unsure if he would wake up at some point and find himself back in his one-bedroom apartment. But every day, he kept waking up in the large chamber he was told to call his new home. It was definitely a nice place, and cool to be doing such unusual things.

After about a month at the Chateau, he had a visitor. He had just dressed for the day, when there was a knock at the door. Come in, he said, still in the bathroom. A slight gust of air blew in through the bathroom door. It smelled familiar, like tobacco and incense. He walked into his bed chamber. It was Zhang, the master not the servant. Zhang bowed formally and smiled. “It seems you are well, this is good to see.”

Jon bowed back, returning the gesture. “Thank you. And welcome. What brings you here?” Jon was perplexed. Why would this guy come all the way from China?

“Well, as I said before, I’ve been charged with your protection until you come fully into power. I thought I’d check in on you to see how my old friend’s heir is doing.”

“Oh, so you knew the previous master?” Why was he surprised, weren’t they both super old? And Zhang did say their families had shared close ties for a long time. Of course they knew each other.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, we were confidants. We were very close.” This revelation was surprising to Jon.

“Then thanks Master Zhang for being a good friend. Helping a family for a friend who’s been dead for hundreds of years is real commitment” Jon nodded again.

“It’s nothing,” said Zhang and please, call me Senfeng. It feels strange for a Sait to regard me so formally, especially the Head of the Order. As Talbot said, your family have been friends to me as far back as the Order’s beginning.”

Jon flushed, now that he knew something of magic, he also knew of Zhang’s importance in the magical community, as well as of his power. His presence had filled the room with energy. Being on the receiving end of his regards was a little embarrassing.

“Of course, Senfeng.” By this time, Senfeng had walked over to the French doors and opened them, a warm breeze flowed in. Jon had avoided opening them up to now, worried the frigid mountain air would chill the room. He felt kind of stupid now.

He walked over to the balcony area. Outside, there was a sitting area, and some plants growing. “Would you like some tea or coffee?” Jon offered. Thankfully he had resumed a normal diet several days earlier.

“Tea would be nice, thank you. Standing next to Zhang, he realized the man was very tall, and also in the daylight he realized, he didn’t look very Asian. Jon called for Daniel who sent down for fresh tea. When he saw Senfeng, he immediately flustered, and nearly stumbled when he went to leave the room. Jon thought it was kind of funny. Senfeng was like a foreign dignitary, or king or something. He was very important to a lot of people. Senfeng smiled. He seemed like a gentle guy. His electric eyes were piercing though, and Jon was still slightly intimidated by him.

“Have a seat, please.” Jon gestured to the chairs by the railing. Without word, Zhang took one. They sat in what felt like an awkward silence for a while, while Jon tried to think of small talk. “So… you don’t really look Chinese.” Seriously? You couldn’t think of anything less racist?

Zhang smiled. “I’m not. At least, not mostly. My grandmother was Chinese, but she married a merchant, and their son was a philosopher, who married another merchant’s daughter. When they had me, they moved back to China to detach themselves from materialism where I was raised with a strong helping hand from my grandmother, who as it turns out was a fairly-powerful sorceress. She taught me the secrets of the craft. So, While I don’t look very Chinese, culturally, I was born and raised there.”

“So, what’s with the American accent when you speak English then?” Dude, could you be more inappropriate?” Wow, I’m sorry. That was rude. Forget I said that.” Jon felt stupid, but curiosity had taken over.

“It’s fine.” Senfeng laughed. “When you live this long, you tend to learn other tongues better than their natives know it. Linguistics are an important part of sorcery. Even pronunciation. Mastering a language gives you a better command over certain spells and incantations.” Jon could feel the gap if time between them, though the man looked only a few years older. He seemed eons beyond Jon. He only looked about ten years older, but every bit of how ancient he really was showed through now.

“If I can ask, how old were you when you awakened? You said your grandmother taught you the craft, right? So, were you a child?”

“No, growing up, she taught me the principles of chi and balance, but my powers didn’t awaken until I was thirty-four.”

“Wow, so you haven’t aged a day then.” Jon whistled. “Are you one of the people that other wizards think might be immortal?”

Senfeng laughed hard. “You’re an honest man, Jon.” No. It is true that people suspect me of immortality, but all natural things have limits, and an end. Though many wizards would like to think otherwise, there is no such thing as true immortality. We all have a destiny. And everyone must meet it.” In truth, Jon, that is partly why I’m here today. “I have a request to make of you.”

Jon was perplexed. What could this sage need from a total noob like him? “Ummm, how can I help?” he asked.

“I need you to make an inquiry for me. I need your vision.” He looked serious suddenly.

“But I still don’t really have control over my powers. I’m sorry, I don’t think I can help you.” Jon felt bad at being a disappointment.

“Don’t deceive yourself. I’ve been told of what you’ve done so far. You’re competent enough,” he said looking out at the mountains. “I have a question I need answered. This is very important. It something I must know.” He stared hard at Jon. “I need to know who is going to kill me.”

“What!? How can you ask something like that! Can I even tell you that? What if it screws up the balance? What if telling you prevents important things from happening? I don’t think that’s a very good idea.” Something struck Jon though. “Wait. How do you know that’s how you are going to die?” Jon eyed Zhang suspiciously.

“The last Lord Sait told me, but because it intertwined with his own destiny, the finer pieces of his vision were veiled to him. You see, it is true, that I haven’t aged a day since my awakening. But at some point, everything ends. Could I live to the end of the world, it might be so, but when the world perishes, so would I. Your ancestor told me part of a vision he had. It concerned my end. He saw me being murdered. But he said he was unable to tell me by who, but that his heir would have the rest of the vision.” The air in the mountains was thin, but suddenly the atmosphere filled with a strange substance. Somehow, this felt so important. There seemed to be a rightness in Senfeng’s words. It was the same feeling as when he correctly interpreted a vision for the first time. And sense of truth.

“Okay. I will do my best and tell you what I can. But I can’t guarantee anything.” Jon put his hands up in caution, as if to say, “Look buddy, its super possible you are barking up the wrong tree here.”

“I have faith you will find what I must know.”

“So why can’t you discern this yourself?” Aren’t like an all-powerful sorcerer? No offense, but why would you come to me for this? And for that matter, why’s it so important?” Jon was feeling a little heavy handed with his questions, but this was a very serious conversation.

“Well, you see, among the Masters, part of the agreement is that they cannot use another Orders’ arts except for benign tasks. It cannot affect the balance. To achieve this, only the master of that art, can use the magic. That helps maintain order, and keeps any one Master from becoming too powerful. It is written into our bindings.”

“But if this could affect the balance, is it really a good idea for me to be telling you?”

“I’m not asking so I can change the balance. I’m asking in hope of maintaining it. There is more to this situation than what I’ve said, but it is too early to reveal much more.”  He shifted uncertainly in his seat. “The one who murders me, is the one who sent his familiar to your home.” We need to find out who it is to stop them.

“If we find out who it is. Do you still have to die? That would be awful.” Fear crept into Jon’s mind. If this man could be killed by a bad person, then what about him? Was anyone safe?

“It is not for me to know whether my fate is fixed or not. What is important is stopping this person, before things shift any further. Chaos will come if nothing happens.”

“I’ve brought your tea” Dan said brightly as he walked out to the balcony with the tray in hand.

After sitting for a while at tea, along with Senfeng and Dan, who clearly was wishing to stay, so Jon invited him to, Senfeng stood.

“Well, I should be off. I’ve got things that must be attended to.” The three walked towards the bedroom door. Senfeng turned to Jon, “Please let me know when you have the answer to my question.”

“I will,” Jon said, having already passed it from his mind with all the small talk they had been having since Dan came back with Tea and food. The reminder struck him like a slap. His answer was grave and stunned.

Senfeng nodded, smiling. “Thank you for your time today. I look forward to our next meeting.” He bowed and the door opened automatically. As he turned away, Jon noticed his outer robe for the first time. It was patterned with ships with wings. Then he was gone, leaving the smell of tobacco and incense in his wake.

The two stood silently for a few seconds. “Weird guy huh?” Jon said trying to sound light hearted after the bizarre encounter, slapping Dan on the back. Dan coughed.

“Master Sait, you shouldn’t speak of Master Zhang like that, he’s very powerful.” Dan’s face looked serious and afraid.

“I know. But somehow, I don’t think he’d mind. And honestly, If I regarded him too highly, I might start being afraid of him. I don’t think that’d be a good thing.” He turned and raised his eyebrows at Dan. “Well, I need to walk off those cookies. Can you handle the clean-up?”

Daniel looked stunned. He was staring, blankly surprised at what Jon had just said. Coming too he shook his head like a dog getting out of the water. “Of … Of course, sir. Whatever you need.”

“I’ll leave you to it then.” Jon left the room. He needed an excuse to be alone and process the conversation he’d just had. This was so serious, and such a loaded situation. He would need time to process this, and he wasn’t even sure if he could see the vision Senfeng had asked him about, though part of him wondered if he’d already had a part of it. Only high-level practitioners were truly able to get answers to specific questions. And he was literally a total novice. He needed time and a lot of it. Was that something he had? It seemed like everything was speeding up suddenly, and he was already hundreds of years late to the party.

He spent the afternoon brooding over their conversation in the cloisters. People rarely went down there as there wasn’t much protection from the environment. The air was warm, but being right next to the edge of the slopes, there was a strong updraft. The noise and blowing wind helped to drown out some the worry. His overcoat and hair whipped around wildly as he paced while winged ships flew through his thoughts. No one would bother him here.

“Master Sait!” Almost no one. “Master! Come inside, it’s time for supper!” It was Talbot. His raised arms swinging through the air as he called, making him look like a wind sock. His muffled voice barely cut through the winds noise. Jon came at his beckoning. He was getting tired and hungry anyway. It felt more comfortable, though oddly silent once he made his way back inside. The cloisters were a good place to get a sense of solitude, but not a good place to relax most days.

“Daniel told me you received a visit from Master Zhang this morning.” Jon looked at the older man. He had a hungry look. Talbot was proving nosier than Jon liked.

“He did, did he?” Apparently very little around here was kept private. “Yes, in fact he was here.”

“How curious. What did he want?”

Jon shrugged. “He was just checking in. He wanted to make sure I had settled in well.” It was half true anyway. Jon wasn’t really sure who it would be safe to share this information with at this point. It was so gravely important. He had begun really trusting Talbot, but still…

“What a gentleman. I suppose you are something like a ward to him, all things considered.” He smirked. What was that supposed to mean?

“Yeah, I guess. Something like that anyway.” It was surprising to learn how far back my family’s history goes with him. He’s a very interesting person.

“Interesting doesn’t really do that man justice. There are more than a few names for that man. All very different, and all appropriate. He wears many hats. Until you awakened, there was no practitioner alive with greater magical potential.” He smiled genuinely at Jon as if eyeing a prize.

“How do you know my potential is greater than his?” Jon asked.

“Many seers have had visions of the new Heir to the House of Sait. They all describe him as being the greatest force of our time. Though, there are some that have seen otherwise. This is how we know it is potential, and not destiny.” His face was serious now.

“And what do the ones who see otherwise say,” Jon was a bit afraid to ask.

“Some see an untimely death. Others…” He turned and looked Jon hard in the face for a long moment. “Suddenly he burst out laughing. “you shouldn’t take everything so seriously! Master Sait, look. when the time is right to know your destiny, you will. After all, that’s part of your destiny too.”

Jon walked along side Talbot, feeling unsettled. Was he serious about what he’d said? Was his life going to be cut short? Or was that just a joke to scare him? Because it worked.

 

Dinner went smoothly. Jon was more-less accepting his role, and playing the part was getting easier. He found the hardest part had been adjusting to the culture. Feeling like a leader and learning magic was simple enough. He was logical by nature, congenial when he wanted to be. Running a castle was less difficult then he’d expected.

Everyone would wait for him to arrive for the meal and they would eat together. He’d decided to keep the activity as tradition, at least for now. At this point, some would report on research they were doing, which had to be further explained to him by Talbot in laymen terms, though he was catching on more and more. Once that was done, everyone would break into more congenial conversation. Most days they had at least a few guests staying with them, and since his awakening, news had spread like wildfire among the Order about there being a new Master.  He was beginning to feel like an accidental celebrity. People from all over the world, but mostly France, were coming to meet him and receive readings. He was getting better at them too. If truth be told, it had gone rocky at first. One member of the order, left so confused they didn’t know whether to take a spirit trek in Africa or seek out a transvestite sheik in Persia. Jon hoped it wouldn’t impose any lasting negative impressions regarding his reputation. Most of the guests were happy to simply be there to spend time meditating and sharing thoughts at the table with other members of the Order.

As the Head, he was expected to be able to produce wisdom at any moment for pilgrims seeking his aid. But he was still so green, he often deferred to Talbot on this issue. It still wasn’t very easy to use his sight on command. Sometimes if he overdid it, and practiced too much, wearing himself out, he’d slip into random visions that made little sense. That was usually followed by a dry spell, and he had yet to do any real studies with his predecessors.

One morning however, Dan came in a bit too loudly. “Looks like it’s time sir.” He said brightly in the early morning light. The sun hadn’t risen yet, and the light was blue in the room.

“Mmmmuhhh, wha--?” Jon wiped the drool from his face and pulled the pair out from his mouth. He’d been hugging a pillow in his sleep.

“Talbot says you’re going to take your first secret lesson today. I’ve got to say, I’m excited. I’ve been honing my retraction technique for pulling people from trances, and its coming along very nicely. I’m looking forward to using it on something that’s actually useful for a change.” He seemed to catch himself.

“But you’ve been using it the whole time anyway. Wait. What are you wearing?” Jon asked. Instead of the usual grey robe, he wore a long white belted skirt thing that was heavily pleated and fell to his ankles, which was the normal length of their robes, but instead of the skirt being part of a robe, it had no top. He wore a long overcoat of the same white fabric which was pleated similarly at the shoulders making it difficult to see where his arms were supposed to be.

“These are ceremonial. Before we start, you have to go through a cleansing, and I’ve brought you ceremonial robes to wear for today’s task.” Dan didn’t seem put off at all.

“What do you mean a cleansing?”

Before any proper channeling ritual, you need to sterilize your body and the environment the ritual will be held in. Not only literally sterilizing, but also spiritually. Now time get up, or we’ll run out of daylight.” He grabbed Jon’s arm and pulled him out of bed, throwing a bathrobe at him. It was different from his usual robe, but at least he didn’t have to go naked this time.  We need to go to the sweat house.

The cleansing took all day. Having been undergoing a dietary cleansing for the last week anyway and spending extra time meditating in solitude, there was only physical stuff left to do. He spent several hours in the sweat house, until he was nearly heat sick and fevered with dehydration. Afterward he bathed in a special bath that smelled like sage and other herbs. Afterwards, they beat him with reeds infused with incense, which stung, but he felt a strange heaviness lift from him when they were done. Finally, they sponged him down again and anointed him with oils.

Being left alone in an empty room, one of the household members that helped bathe him presented him with a set of neatly folded clothes.

He picked them up noting they were similar to Dan’s. He was given a robe that was as long as Dan’s had been. He had a similar belted skirt, but realized it was in two parts. The sides weren’t connected, the way a traditional gi was separated at its sides. What the hell? Whatever. It covered everything at least. Better this than being naked.

He put it on, feeling like a piece of fanart from a Japanese anime. There was no mirror, but he was sure he looked ridiculous, and not in a good way, like on social media. Ridiculous as in- WFT welcome to Comicon ridiculous. Whoever thought ceremonial regalia should look like this needed to be pistol whipped.

He walked out of the room, feeling like an idiot. By now, his hair had grown at least five inches. It had been almost a year since his training had begun. Today was finally the day. Jon was going to take his first lesson from the grimoire.

A small procession of sorcerers walked down to the lower chambers in front of and behind Jon. They had been selected for their discretion and wisdom, each a leader of the craft in their own right. When they got to the door of the ceremony room, on either side stood Dan and Talbot, who also wore the strange robes. Though, after a few centuries, he didn’t really have the figure for it. His stomach peaked out from his open robe, lending him the appearance of a golden buddha statue.

Jon stifled a laugh, wondering if he looked that ridiculous as well. The three entered the chamber as the smell of incense wafted in after them. They closed the door. On the same dais as before, there was the box. It hadn’t moved, but wasn’t dusty either. In fact, the musty smell from before was completely gone. All he could smell were herbs and spices and resin.

All at once everything felt serious, from the look on the faces of Jon’s entourage as the door closed between them, to the dim candle light posted at the cardinal directions, to the stark, precise chalk circle drawn around the dais. It felt to Jon as if the ceremony had already begun. He realized then it had been going on all day. This was the culmination, not the commencement.

He turned and saw Talbot had pulled a different book from the shelf from the last time they were down there ten months ago. This book was a dark blue color, almost black. It was gilt in gold. He instructed Jon and Dan to come over to him and form a triangle, facing each other around the dais. Once assembled, they all stood in silence. Jon didn’t know what to do, but they weren’t moving, so he figured he shouldn’t either.  He didn’t.

Quickly, Talbot opened the book and found the page he was looking for with ease and began reading from it in a strange language. The syllables, though clearly spoken, rang eerie, like a whisper spoken in the dark. The air became electric and everything seemed alive to Jon. The box on the dais started to tremble, and Talbot’s voice became a little louder. He was speaking in a forceful droning tone. The lid to the box burst open, startling Jon. Dan didn’t seem troubled. As Talbot continued, the bones inside the box slowly rose out of it, encircling Talbot and began to spin around him. How was this not necromancy again? Jon was getting incredible strange sensations swirling around him. Talbot was speaking very loudly now, and even more forcefully, or was it imploringly? He seemed to make a final request across some chasm, practically yelling. Everything stopped. The bones hovered in place. No one moved. Talbot closed his eyes and sighed long and deep. Did it work? Did they answer? Were they going to?

There was more silence. Then boom! A huge gust of wind surged from Talbot as his eyes burst open. Strange blue light was coming from his eyes, mouth and nostrils, even from his hair and fingertips. He continued his incantation, but this time it sounded like many voices, some close, some far away. They echoed through him in unison. He turned his gaze towards Jon, his mouth still open, saying nothing. Jon was a statue. This was literally terrifying. He was going to crap himself, he just knew. There were a whole lot of dead people looking at him through Talbot right now, and it was not okay. This was not okay. I want to go back to New Jersey now. The light receded from Talbot’s face congealing in a miasma that poured from his mouth as a liquid but became a flowing vapor as it hit the air. In a blue light-smoke trail, it flowed down his chest to the floor and snaked its way towards Jon. Oh s**t, oh s**t, oh s**t. What happens if that stuff touches me? He thought, panicking. Dan on the other hand, appeared very calm, though serious. The trail of miasma reached his feet and began climbing up his leg. It felt cool to the touch, and misty. He expected a slimy feeling, but if it hadn’t been so bad, he might have even described it as refreshing if it hadn’t been ghost smoke. The sinewy vapors wove around his chest and arms like a snake about to digest prey.

This is how it ends. Was all he could think. I’m done. Phantom food. My great, great so-and-so is gonna eat me right here. Suddenly, the as the blue smoke circled around his neck, it dispersed to the center of the dais. In its place, stood a blue glowing man that looked very much like Jon, though slightly older- His ancestor. “Jon Sait,” it said. I’m Jerome Sait. Six generations ago, I lived, and now you live in my place. It’s been too long since a Sait has maintained the balance. Master Zhang should not have been forced to shoulder that burden for so long. We owe him a great debt.”

“Uhhhhhh….” Jon was speechless. He had originally expected the spirit to just talk through Talbot or something, not full-blown manifest on the table. All he was able to manage was a slow nod.

“I understand your fear. It’s reasonable. This is unexpected. Talbot was intended as a vessel of instruction, but, something has changed. We will teach you ourselves. The skulls had by this point moved away from Talbot and were circling round the blue spirit. He was walking towards Jon. As he did, several other spirits came out of his back and fell in line alongside him. They looked older than Jerome, not physically. Some looked older, some younger, but each shade that emerged was dimmer than the last, save the last one. As they got close. The circle the bones made had grown larger and encompassed Jon as well. The spirits each turned back into a blue smoke trail and floated into Jon’s forehead one at a time.

There Bones fell with a clatter around Jon, and there was silence. Nobody spoke. Jon looked at Dan, who no longer looked okay, having forsaken his serious look to don one of surprise, and Talbot, who Jon though would be used to this sort of thing appeared stunned.

After a moment, Talbot broke the silence. “I don’t understand,” he muttered quietly. This was my destiny. What’s going on? This was foreseen. It wasn’t supposed to go like that.”

Talbot looked at Jon, clearly confused. This worried Jon immensely. The tree looked at one another for a long time before moving.

Eventually, without saying a word, they began slowly putting the room back in order. When they left the chamber, they did so in silence.

What did this mean? Jon ruminated as they took dinner together in his solar, the first regular meal with meat and beer they’d had in weeks. No one had bothered changing. Shock was still in the air among them.

The first person to speak was Jon. “So… Am I possessed now?” He asked frankly looking at Talbot, who was had just swilled a large glug of beer. Talbot looked at him blankly for a moment. Then seemed to collect himself somewhat.

“I-I’m not completely sure,” he said shaking his head. “This is unprecedented. I’ve never had a mediation end with the spirits inhabiting a person before.” He looked concerned. “If you really need a short answer, yes. There are spirits inside of you. But it isn’t cut and dry possession. Possession means a spirit has taken control of a living vessel, another person. In this case, the relation seems to be intended as symbiotic in nature, instructional even …” He trailed off for a moment. His brow furrowed. “Jon, from now on, you cannot view me as your instructor. You must learn to listed to your ancestors. All I can be to you now is your advisor, nothing more.”

That took Jon aback. He stared back at Talbot, afraid to speak. What was he supposed to do without a teacher? And how was he supposed to communicate with these beings inside him?

After a few moments. “I didn’t get to use the dissolution charm I’ve been working on. What’s the point of me. I was useless.” Jon looked at Dan. He seemed crestfallen. Talbot had snapped out of his trance when the miasma left his body. Dan had been merely an onlooker.

Jon figured he should attempt to salvage the mood, though he wasn’t feeling fit to do so. “Look, Dan, I have to be honest, I almost s**t myself in there, more than once. Seeing you keep your cool was the only reason I didn’t flip my s**t and run away.” That wouldn’t have been possible without you. And … I think, thanks.” Jon said putting his hand on Dan’s shoulder. It wasn’t exactly true, but a white lie felt like it couldn’t hurt.

The kid was so wrapped up in being a good practitioner. “Being useful with your skills isn’t the only important thing in life you know.” Jon sniffed out a chuckle. Dan nodded and smiled a little too, lifting his head and taking a drink of beer.

They didn’t speak about that even again. Even after they got used to the idea of what happened. Talbot had completely relinquished the goings on at the Chateau to Jon, and oddly, seemed happy to do so. It was a funny thing. When he first arrived, Jon had got the impression that Talbot liked the power. Dan remained close by as Jon’s confidant. It was strange, but somehow the events of that day changed Jon. He took on a seriousness about his role he didn’t have before. It felt more important now to be a good Master. If he really was the head of the Order, he needed to live it completely. He though perhaps that had been why Talbot had so quickly stepped aside, though he was still invaluable. He delegated a chunk of each day’s household management to Talbot, who took it well enough. This enable Jon to spend more time studying the grimoire.

He mastered most of the texts Talbot had recommended he get familiar with, and was sifting through the pages of his family’s secret book. Trouble was, it still seemed to be garble. He couldn’t understand it. The language was archaic and foreign. He had yet to be able to decipher a single phrase. He spent day after day pouring over the pages. At this point he’d been at the Chateau for years, but to Jon it felt as though he might have been there less than a fortnight. He had learned nearly everything he could get his hands on, and had no shortage of practice with all the visitors who came to seek his vision or help in one form or another. It wasn’t regular magic that was vexing him. He knew he wouldn’t be able to do anything about the dark order, which had been strangely quiet since his awakening, until he fully understood the Sait Grimoire. And he had other concerns as well. With as much as Talbot had repeated that enemies couldn’t breach the castle, Jon still had his doubts. And his fame was becoming more widespread. Anonymity was no longer a cloak for him, and neither was his location. Without doubt, there would be others seeking to find a chink in the Order’s protective measures. And they would, Jon knew, sooner rather than later, assuming they hadn’t already figured a way.

Truly, it had become difficult for Jon to trust anyone, so he confided only as much in others as he had to in order to run the order and assist the balance. He had noticed that more recently Talbot had been distancing himself. It hade Jon sad. He was the first person Jon felt he could count as a friend since he had come to France, and even regarded the man as a mentor. Jon knew that the additional duties he had asked of Talbot recently were partly to blame. There was less time for the two of them to share company. Jon was having a hard time knowing whether Talbot resented or reveled in some of his old responsibilities being restored to him.

Jon had found himself filling Talbot’s absence with Dan, his ever-present assistant. The young man had proven useful. His knowledge was formidable, though Jon had noted the gap in their grasp of the traditions of the order were closing. But wits were no match for wisdom, and Talbot had both in spades, though perhaps not such a great mind as Daniel would prove to have, given the time.

His other frustration was the utter lack of correspondence between himself and his co-inhabitants. Though they remained inside him, Jon had yet to be given any guidance whatsoever from his ancestors. He wasn’t sure which was worse, being possessed by a cluster of dead psychics, or them sitting silently inside him as he struggled to tease out meaning from an ancient book they were meant to be helping him learn. He’d been struggling to understand their motives for doing nothing for some time, but none of the possible answers he arrived at were comforting. The seemingly easy life he currently led was a stark juxtaposition against his fears and worries. Each day started beautifully, but for Jon it also started with a sense of dull dread for what the future held. He found it beyond frustrating that he couldn’t use his gifts to peak into his own future, to glean some wisdom about what he might do, or at least what lay in store. If he was going to have his soul ripped from him and absorbed by some necromancer, he would’ve preferred the opportunity to prepare himself for such an end, assuming it was a fixed fate he might see. All these things made circles in his head until one regular afternoon when he was walking in the meditation garden, near the fountain. He liked it there. He had stopped needing to meditate to see into the fountain some time ago, but still enjoyed the process. People who had been watching him were hailing him as a genius. In truth, he was frantically trying to catch up on lost time. He hadn’t realized his studies had exceeded most of his contemporaries months ago, or at least, he was ignoring Talbot when he said so. He was truly adept at the craft, and not only at seeing. All kinds of weaving, as it was called, came easy to him. He had no idea how unusual he was. But now, what was important was figuring out this Grimoire. He knew this was the next step closer to the vision Senfeng has spoken to him of. Wait! That was it! He bolted from the garden at a run, dropping his coat in the garden.

“Dan! Dan!” He came bolting into the library study. There were several stunned wizards looking directly at him from across a table. The one in the middle was Dan. “Get Talbot, we need to take a trip.”

“Uhhh, gahhh! Okay!” Dan stammered, dropping his books. He was trying to shake off the deep conversation he’d just been having about his research into disillusioning people from the realities they avoid and how to approach it with craftworks. Dan collected his books and bowing apologetically to the other two men at the table, left swiftly with Jon.

“Where are we going sir?” He asked nearly dropping a book.

Jon grabbed it for him without missing a stride. “China.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 7: Traps, Portals, and Reintegration into Society

 

When the three men were assembled, Jon had Dan collect his clock, the grimoire, and a few items they might need on the trip. “Talbot, I need you to watch over the Chateau until I return. Can you do that for me?

“Of course, I can. ”I practically already am. Again. His tone implied. But what’s the rush? Where are you going? What do you want me to tell people?” He was clearly flustered by the commotion.

“Tell everyone I’ll be back soon. I think I’ve found a way to read the grimoire, but I need to see someone first. Now, open the portal to Senfeng’s parlor.” He could have done it himself, but he wanted Talbot there to see them off. Jon was so excited he couldn’t help but smile. It must have been the prospect of answers that had him giddy. But he felt a nervous edge as well. If what he thought was true, then it could mean dangerous things were happening right under his nose.

“Of course, Sir,” Talbot responded with a light bow. He walked over to the door once Dan had collected all the requested items. Talbot touched the door with his palm, muttered an incantation, and knocked three times. The door opened without help, and in wafted the thick smell of tobacco and incense. Jon and Dan walked through.

Senfeng was sitting as before, on his sofa smoking his pipe, much as he had been that first night. There was a fire to his right. It must be winter here. Jon had done more than lost track of time since going to the mountain, he literally no longer knew when it was. “Hello Jon, Senfeng said informally, offering him a slight nod.” He seemed unusually relaxed. His robe hung loosely on him not even all the way on one shoulder, and, was he drunk? S**t, this could be bad.

“Senfeng, it’s good to see you. It’s been quite a while. How long exactly?” Jon was curious to know. The days always looked the same where he lived, snowy.

“It certainly has been a while. It’s been almost three years. I’d begun to worry you’d forgot about my question.”

“Wait, three years?! How is that possible. You were only at the Chateau a few months ago!” What a joke, three years, pfth.

“Yes, three years.” Very matter of fact. “Haven’t you been watching the stars? You are a seer, isn’t that under your jurisdiction?” He was right. But in truth, Jon had spent all his evenings attempting to unlock the secrets of the Grimoire and worrying why his ancestors hadn’t begun instructing him yet.

“Well, it’s complicated. And to get to the point, part of why I’m here is because all my time has been consumed by this book.” He grabbed the grimoire from Dan and held it up.

Senfeng narrowed his eyes and looked hard at the object. “Isn’t that…”

“I was hoping you could tell me. I’m sorry, I haven’t come with the answer to your question, just more questions of my own.” Jon was feeling sincere regret right now. There was nothing the man owed him. “In truth, if you help me with this, I’ll be in a much better place to be able to come up with something for you.” Not that I’m trying to bribe you or anything.” Jon tried not to sound too nervous laughing at his own bad joke.

“Hmmm. Bring it to me.” Senfeng gestured at the book. Jon obliged. Senfeng’s drunken demeanor had all but melted away. He seemed instantly collected and calculating. He looked at the book, then eyed Jon suspiciously. “Why did you bring this to me?”

“Frankly, you were the closest person to Jerome. It was a guess, but I figured that if anyone knew much about this book, it’d be you. There is something wrong. I can feel it, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.” He paused as Senfeng handled the book. Flipping it around, he ran his hand gently down the spine, doing everything short of actually opening it. “My thoughts are that either, this isn’t the real grimoire, or… Well, tell me what you think.”

Senfeng put his hand over the book and muttered a spell. Nothing happened. “Will you open this for me? It’s your book. I can’t open it myself. It will only respond to you.”

Jon took the book and opened it easily. “Thank you,” said Senfeng. He looked at the pages, leafing through them. “This is strange … I don’t like what I’m seeing …”

“Oh, Hang on, there’s something else as well.” Jon turned to Dan. “I just remembered, there’s a scroll I need from my study. Return home and fetch it for me. We are going to need it. Here,” He asked Senfeng for a pen and scrap of paper. He wrote for a moment and handed Dan the paper, folding it first. When you get back, release this incantation to release the information you need to remove the scroll from the shelf. Recite the incantation, and the scroll with come to you. It’s vital. Thank you,” he said handing the folded scrap of paper to Dan.

“Of course. anything you need Master.” With that, Dan put his hand to the door, muttered an incantation, and walked through to Jon’s chambers at the Chateau. The moment the door closed, Jon sprung towards it. Murmuring rapidly in Latin, Arabic, and ancient Sumerian, the door began to glow as several rings appeared in front of it, turning and weaving in and out of one another. It created a bizarre network pattern of activity, but the order changed over and over again, several hundred times. Then suddenly as they’d appeared, the rings flattened into a glowing golden target shape and slapped themselves in unison against the door with a heavy slam.

Jon turned to Senfeng. “We have to leave now. I’m sorry, but I’ve put you in very real danger.” He ran across the room, grabbed the clock and the grimoire and with a flick of his hand they zipped into the air and shrunk to practically nothing before zooming into a pouch at his side.

Senfeng was caught off guard. “What exactly are you talking about?” he asked as Jon grabbed his hand and yanked him from the sofa. Grab what you need immediately, and let’s go. I can explain when we get to safety.

Senfeng laughed. “Ha! I don’t NEED anything.” With that he stood up as Jon opened a portal and jumped through it with him.

Coming out on the other side, they were on a busy street in the middle of a busy city. Jon Still had a hold of Senfeng. They ran down the sidewalk, looking ridiculous in their robes against the contemporary backdrop of central London. “Why’ve you brought us here?!” Senfeng yelled as they passed by several honking cabs stuck at a traffic circle.

“We’re going to a safehouse!” Jon yelled back.

“Why?!” Jon barely heard over the commotion. It was like being at a fair.

“Because someone is trying to kill us!”

“What?!” He said as they brushed past several pedestrians and ran into an alley. They had already caught the eye of several people. He hoped they had taken them for larpers.

“Because,” Jon panted, thankful to be away from prying eyes and the bulk of the commotion. “Someone, is trying, to kill us.” He was breathless. “Come on, we need to change. He snapped his fingers, and from his small pouch, two sets of clothes, popped out and enlarged. They would have been trendy, and even kind of edgy several years ago. “Sorry they aren’t the coolest thing from the spring collection,” Jon said. Handing over the extra change of clothes and disrobing himself. When he’d changed he looked up, Senfeng was already dressed. “Hey, those aren’t the clothes I brought you?”

“I already told you, I don’t need anything.” He smiled and winked. Instead of the button down and jeans, that Jon had assumed would be Senfeng’s taste, he was wearing a trendy deep neck graphic tee and some black tattered jeans, with a cool leather jacket. He looked cooler than Jon, who was wearing dark blue Jeans, a tank, and a flat-brimmed cap. Feeling annoyed, he pulled his hair back into a bun, noting that too was probably now outdated. Jon noted how good it felt to be wearing street clothes again. He’d missed it more than he’d realized. Nostalgia threatened to take hold and remind him of the life he’d used to live. There’s no time for that right now.

They walked out onto the street as if they hadn’t just been dressed as two Halloween freaks in the middle of the summer. Turned out, it hadn’t been winter at all. Senfeng just liked having a fire going. They walked along the street muttering protective enchantments along the way. “So where is this safehouse?” Senfeng asked after they’d been walking for about twenty minutes through the city.

“Shhhh. I’m looking for it now.” Jon had his eyes closed and was walking apparently blindly forward, but doing it with confidence. Senfeng cringed as he narrowly avoided a pole, a fire hydrant, a gutter, and a bicyclist coming around the corner. But each time Jon paused, moved to just out of the way of his obstacle and continued.

“What are you doing?” Senfeng had never seen a sorcerer use this kind of technique.

“Well, I don’t know any magical people outside the Chateau and your place, so I had to divine the location. I’m using a homing spell. Now be quiet, I can’t concentrate.”

Senfeng smiled. “That’s pretty good for not having been able to read the Grimoire.”

“It’s just a combination of a finding spell, a request spell, and a sightless vision spell.  If you layer the incantations, and weave them together in the right places, all you have to do is close your eyes and concentrate on what you are looking for. The spell does the rest of the work.

“Impressive. I don’t know many wizards who can weave more than two spells. That’s some interesting synthesis.”

“We’re almost there. Just a couple blocks away. There! I can see it.” Jon opened his eyes for the first time in over half an hour. He began walking much more quickly. He led them down a row of town houses that were built tightly together.

“… Nine … Ten! This is it!” Jon counted the stoops, selected one, and knocked on the door. Senfeng followed.

“Wait, Senfeng said. Disguises.” He wove his hands over their faces and when he put them down, they both looked completely different. Just in time. The door was being unlatched.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” An older woman, around sixty asked through a chain latch. She had a grey curly bob and wore a periwinkle cardigan over and pink and blue frock.

“Hic requiem invenire poterimus?” Jon said furtively.

The old woman’s eyes widened and she quickly shut the door. “Way to scare the poor old thing.” Senfeng nodded in a mocking impressed attitude. Then there was more clicking behind the door. Latches and heavy metal scraping and a strange buzzing sound all happened simultaneously. The door opened again. It was the old woman, but her demeanor had completely changed from calm and sweet to serious and urgent.

“Hurry inside!” she said gesturing wildly as she glanced side to side along the street. There was no one about. They obliged, bowing to her as they entered. As she closed the door behind her, the sounds all occurred again in reverse order automatically, finishing off with the actual latch clicking.

“Now you two boys follow me. I’ll show you to your room. We’re full up tonight, so you’ve got to bunk up. I hope that isn’t a problem.”

“No ma’am,” said Jon, thankful he would have the opportunity to fill in Master Senfeng, and if truth be told, just thankful he would be somewhat safe at all. “Thank you for your hospitality.” We really appreciate you going to the trouble.

She waved him off from over her shoulder without turning her head. “We all need a little help from time to time. But to be clear, we do require payment. Can you pay?” At this she did turn around, stopping dead halfway up the staircase in the entryway. Jon nearly bumped into her.

“Of course,” Senfeng obliged, producing a small red sack from the air, full of Jon didn’t know what. “Will this be enough?” he asked passing it to Jon to hand to the woman. Why ways the sack squishy?

“Oh, my favorite.” She smiled brightly as she gazed into the pouch. She began to hum mildly as she led them upstairs. The stopped at a room on the right near the end of the hall on the second floor. As she unlocked the door she began a sort of wrote script. “Now, breakfast is at 7:30, if you’re late, you don’t eat. Which reminds me, except for that payment you made, I won’t tolerate any further conjuring on the premises. You’ll do your own dishes. Quiet hours have already started. No names, no matter what. In fact, don’t exchange personal information with other guests whatsoever. Doing so means immediate expulsion from the safehouse, and your memory of it will be wiped.  Are we clear?”

 “Yes ma’am,” both said in alert response as if speaking to a drill sergeant.

“Good. Now, most people here now are pretty quiet, but there’s a strange one who’s a long termer. He get noisy on random evenings. Let him be and he’s friendly enough. Don’t bother him if he’s in a fit. There’s a bathroom down the hall. Most have already gone to bed, so it looks like it’s free for the night if you need to clean up.” She paused. “Smells like you do. Oh! And here’s your key. Sorry, I’ve only got one, so you’ll have to share. And that’s about everything. Can I get you boys a night cap?” She was already at the door, but had politely turned to face them in a swift fashion clapping her hands together in front of her chest and keeping them there. Her dark brown skirt didn’t even flutter slightly, but rather obeyed her as if he were being forced in ln line with her movements, afraid to swish even a little.

“No, ma’am,” again in unison.

“Well, then,” She said with a curt look about the room. “If everything is in order, then good night gentlemen.” She turned to the door and walked out, but paused before closing it. “Be careful Senfeng, she whispered over her shoulder. There is no real safety for you. Not even here. Keep your disguise up around the house.” The door closed and she was gone.

The two men looked at one another for a moment. Senfeng put up protective spells on the door and window while Jon put sound sealing and secrecy charms all along the walls, floor and ceiling.

“Interesting woman.” Senfeng said nonchalantly as he finished up, clapping the dust from the window off his hands.

Jon sat on the bed. “How’d she know it was you, do you think? I mean, I know you’re famous, but you were disguised.”

“It may have been my payment method. That woman is an ogress. I handed her fresh livers. The fact that I could tell what she was, might have given me away. Very few people can tell an ogress apart from a sorceress. I’m well known for my discerning abilities.” He shrugged. “In truth though, it may have been more than that. Safe houses have very good and very old magic protecting them. Anti-deception magic is common among such weavings. While I was able to disguise our faces, we didn’t have time to weave any craftwork against that kind of magic. She may have known immediately.”

Jon was still grossed out by the squishy livers he’d handed over to the woman. “Were those human livers?”

Senfeng chuckled. “What if they were?”

“That’s just gross,” Jon half whispered, but loud enough for Senfeng to hear. Senfeng smiled more broadly. “What were you doing keeping something like that stored in subspace?”

 Senfeng ignored the question. “Well, best not to waste our energy.” Senfeng walked over to Jon and with a quick circular pulling gesture from both of his hand over their faces, they looked themselves again. Then he took a seat in the chair by the window, slouching like a teenager. “So, would you mind explaining what’s going on?” Senfeng sighed, resting his head on his knuckles.

Jon sighed. “Right. Okay, first, again, I’m sorry for bringing you into this. It really was the only way for me to know for sure.” Jon took a deep breath and took off his cap, fishing his manbun out from the wrangles of his hair tie. “I first started to suspect something the day I was supposed to begin instruction from my ancestors. Talbot was supposed to be summoning their spirits and act as a vessel for them to instruct me through. But that isn’t what happened. When he did the summoning, the spirits left his body and materialized. They said something had changed and they’d have to teach me directly. That got me thinking. But it wasn’t until I attempted to translate the grimoire that I realized something was wrong. Nearly all of my family’s texts are written in either Latin or Sanskrit. But the grimoire doesn’t seem to be written in either of those. That was the second clue. At first, I thought maybe it was written in code, so I tried for a time to decipher it. But like you said, the book only responds to me. So why would it need to be encrypted if only one person could look at the content anyway right? That seems like overkill, even as a rite of passage. Plus, it didn’t make sense since the plan was originally for the spirits to instruct directly from the text using Talbot as their medium. Coupling the bizarre events at the séance with the unusual situation with the text, I knew something had to be wrong. Someone has been trying to stop me from learning what’s in that book. They are trying to keep me weak. I didn’t know who to trust. I didn’t even tell Dan or Talbot. Good thing too. Eventually, I narrowed the possibilities of what was going on down to three things. Either the text itself was under a concealment charm that confused the language to keep me from learning it, making it impossible to decode, or I had been jinxed into being unable to read it, or it wasn’t the real Grimoire in the first place. The only way I could know for certain was to bring it to you. There were only two people who could have cause any of the three options. Whatever you told me, would reveal who it was. Based on your reaction I knew immediately.” He took another deep breath. This was a very complicated situation.

“Wow, you figured that out all on your own huh?” He clapped a little, but was obviously genuinely admiring the efforts.

“Yeah, I would have come to you sooner, but originally, I thought maybe you were the one responsible, especially after the conversation we had the morning you came to visit. I wasn’t sure if all this was an elaborate trap set by you. But recently everything started falling into place for me, mostly because I’d exhausted all my other options.

See, whether the book was real or not, I knew the text I was seeing was ingenuine. So, whoever was involved had never seen the inside of it, and wasn’t overly familiar with my ancestors’ work. That’s how I knew it couldn’t be you. You had told me you were Jerome’s confidant, and Talbot confirmed as much. I knew you two had done research together, and that at some point, you must have come into contact with the grimoire. You also would have known what form of writing should be in it. That’s why I brought it to you. When you said the book wouldn’t respond to you, it confirmed that the book was the original, so I knew it wasn’t swapped. And when you saw the text, it also confirmed I wasn’t bewitched, at least not in regard to the text itself. Finally, the fact that you openly expressed the issues showed me you had nothing to do with whatever was going on. That left only one option possible. The writing had been enchanted. That narrowed the possible culprits down from three to two to one. I knew instantly. Too bad I brought the wrong friend. The only people with access to the grimoire other than myself were Talbot and Dan. Both of them had handled it prior to my coming to the Chateau. When I first arrived at the Chateau, I saw them transporting the book to the chamber it stayed in until the ceremony was performed. Dan was frantic that there wasn’t time to prepare, but Talbot was calm and collected, like you’d expect his type to be. Counter-jinxes are a specialty of Dan’s. But for that to be true, he first had to be an expert in jinxes themselves. It’s still possible they they’re both in it together. But one thing I know for sure; Dan was at the center of it. I brought him with me because I was worried about him. I knew that if Talbot was guilty, leaving Dan behind was a death sentence for him. So, I brought him along in case my suspicions were wrong.”

“But what about Talbot? Isn’t he a sitting duck back at the Chateau now? He may already be dead.” Senfeng added gravely.

Jon shook his head. “No. I took care of that. Before I left, I told Talbot to take care of things while I was gone. We follow a strict schedule at the Chateau, and no one follows it more faithfully than Talbot, regardless of whether I’m around or not. Then man’s a flamboyant machine. So, I left a letter for him. The very next engagement of the day would be to do the rounds to ensure the Chateau was being properly cared for, starting with my study. He and I are the only ones who ever go there. So, I addressed a letter to him on the desk, warning him about Dan. I knew that when I told him where I was going, if he was involved in all this, he wouldn’t get the letter, and even if he did, it wouldn’t matter. But if he wasn’t involved, it was the very next place he’d go, and that he’d go there immediately. That would give him just enough time to find the letter, which he would certainly find, since I left the office extremely clean and it was the only thing on the damn surface. He’d be able to get everyone out in time, before Dan got back. I had to plan for everything to happen fast. Because either way, someone was bound to come back through the door between our rooms with pretty a dangerous plan.

“But you sent Dan straight to the study.”

 “Yes, and if he does actually go there, and if Talbot is actually innocent, then he has already set the trap. The incantation in the note I wrote is in a language I happen to know Dan won’t be familiar with. If he recites it, it won’t be a scroll zooming down from the shelf. It will be something much worse.”

“How can you be sure he won’t know it?” Senfeng asked?

“Because It’s in a language I made up. I got the idea from the Grimoire. I made it up attempting to decode the damn thing. But when I realized all I was reading was garble, I ran with the language and started working on incantations in it, to protect myself. When Dan reads that incantation aloud, it will set off a chain reaction of spells all over the chateau. Everyone will be gone, having already been teleported away by Talbot, and if not then by the spells the incantation triggers, and the Chateau will detonate magically, trapping the prisoner within a time-loop prison. Within it, there is no exit. Time for the prisoner moves forwards, but the events contained within it loop perpetually. The prisoner would be surrounded by explosions and crashing rubble over and over again for ever until the end of time. There would be no opportunity to stop it. They might protect themselves a bit, but eventually, they’d be crushed and burned to ash.” Jon was going hoarse now.

“You’ve acquired this amount of knowledge in less than five years?” Senfeng was clearly impressed. His mouth was gaping. Jon felt a little swell of pride in that moment. They were silent for a moment. Jon caught himself, and took a timidly proud posture.

“After coming up with that twisted plan, you called giving raw liver to an ogress gross? I think you have a slightly warped sense of reality,” Senfeng laughed.

“Seriously!? I made those plans up on the fly out of necessity. Who just has pouches full of livers that may or may not belong to people on and to give ogresses anyway?”  His eyebrows raised.

“Touché. But seriously, a perpetual rubble barbeque? You though that up in the moment? Normally a punishment like that takes some serious time and thought to come up with, and frankly,” he laughed, “that’s the darkest punishment I’ve heard of in a VERY long time, and I’m well over 8oo years old.” He was still smiling though. Clearly, he was approving of Jon’s quick thinking. “I shame myself to say it, but when we met I hadn’t pegged you as a genius.”

Jon thought for a moment. “Before we met, I wasn’t. I was just ordinary and boring. And, kind of a smartass.”

“Well, that much hasn’t changed.” Senfeng said, chuckling.

“You seem different too. I thought you were a much more formal person. But seeing you like this, you seem very laid back, bored almost.” Jon looked at Senfeng quizzically. Senfeng returned the look, saying nothing, but smiling a little.

“I’m gonna get a shower before I turn in. The ogress was right. We stink, or at least I do. And the last thing you want is to remind an ogress of what a person smells like. We might wake up to her salting our arms or something.” He walked to the door.

“Don’t take too long, I need one too, and its late.”

“Yeah you do.”

“Hey…” Jon feigned being taken aback.

After Senfeng had been gone a couple of minutes. Jon allowed himself to process the situation. Not logically, but holistically. Dan had become like a brother to him. He really loved him, but never said it. And he sent him off to die in such a terrible way… And the Chateau had become his home in a way that no place he’d ever lived had before. Talbot was like a father to him. He really hoped he wasn’t involved, and that he was safe. Jon started crying. In the last five years, he had lost everything, twice. Not that he had much to lose the first time around. But he did have a family before everything happened. Granted, they didn’t talk much, but he still loved them. He laid down facing the window, sniffed hard. Sobs began pouring out of him. He’d lived two lives in 30 years, and it felt as though both were over.

The door clicked. Oh s**t. Senfeng was back. He took his hat and covered his face, acting like he was using it to guard his eyes from the light as he feigned sleep.

“Hey, shower’s free,” he said, knocking the sole of Jon’s shoes with his knuckles. “You won’t have the energy to get up and do it if you don’t go now, and I’m not sleeping in the same bed as your smell. Unless you want to sleep on the floor…” Jon chuckled. He was right. The walk had taken hours, and the evening had been chilly, but they’d worked up a sweat in spite of it. His warning worked. Jon really had no choice but to hope the guy wouldn’t notice he’d been crying.

He sat up still facing the window, not really needing to pretend to be too exhausted to do much. He put his hat on and cocked it low over his eyes as he walked towards the door, passed Senfeng. “Hey, you did the best you could you know. There’s no fault in that. And it’s okay to mourn a loss. Even if he was a traitor.” How’d he know? Then again, it was probably pretty obvious. After how he had described being worried about him in case he was innocent. He’d taken an enormous risk bring him along. People don’t take risks like that unless they’re emotionally invested. Jon realized that was the sort of behavior that was like to get him killed if he kept it up.

“Thanks,” Jon said, with his head still down. Senfeng smirked sympathetically and took the hat off Jon’s head, tossing it away for the useless mask it had been. Jon went to take his shower.

The water felt good. And after everything it was nice to relax in a peaceful moment. When he got back to the room, he discovered Senfeng had all but taken over the bed, still in his towel. Jon magicked some underwear from inside his pouch and put them on, thinking he would need ask Senfeng how to make the subspace container so he might do the same. He went to the bed and pulled the covers over him. Senfeng was on top of the covers, so Jon used them as a lever to roll him over to the far side of the bed. The man barely stirred. Jon was so tired mentally as well as physically that he fell asleep with barely another thought.

“Wake up,” Senfeng said snapping Jon with his towel in the arm. Jon woke with an angry start. He looked at the man standing in front of him in disgust and threw a pillow at his naked bits. Senfeng laughed and began dressing. In their rush, they had almost forgot to put on their disguises. This time though, they included additional protective charms. Since they couldn’t conjure on premises, they knew missing breakfast meant no food, so they scrambled. As it turned out, Senfeng had no food in his subspace storage. How does a man have a liver, but not food?!

“Scrambled eggs, anyone? Said the ogress as she waltzed from the kitchen with a large iron skilled held quite easily in one hand. No human old lady would have been able to do that. Then again, a sorceress might have. The table was about 15 strong, and everyone looked somewhat worse for the wear. Jon figured that the especially disheveled man across from him was the strange man upstairs the ogress had mentioned. He was polite, but did seem slightly off somehow. Like maybe he was a touch soft, or not quite there. “Here you go lamb, said the ogress, dishing an especially large helping onto the man’s plate. His right eye winced and he began to snarl, but caught himself as he looked up at her and turned the snarl into a wry, very forced looking smile. It had the effect of a dentist pulling at the corners of one’s mouth to have a look inside. Jon couldn’t help noticing the man’s sharp teeth. He looked away, averting his gaze. Oh look, bacon!!

Jon was pulling toast and bacon onto his plate as Senfeng  was gulping down a glass of orange juice. The moment reminded Jon of a Rockwell painting. It could have been the fifth freedom: “The freedom to Lock yourself away in a safe-house so you don’t get murdered”. Yes, very congenial. Prints of it would hang in every refugee camp, everywhere.

No one spoke during the meal except to the ogress. Ironically, she was the only person there anyone trusted enough to speak to. It was all small talk anyway. “These eggs are great!” “Thanks for the wake-up call.” “Hope you had a quiet night.” “Blah, Blah…” Jon wanted a drink, a stiff one. Mostly though he wanted to figure out what was next. After breakfast, he and Senfeng returned to their room, both apparently thinking along the same lines.

“Is it bothering you?” Jon asked.

“Is what?” Senfeng was scribbling something invisible in the air with his fingers with both hands, looking like a crazed musical conductor. His face was full of concentration.

“What the ogress said last night. Her warning to you. I think we should arrange for a private conversation with her.” Jon said half musing, sounding somewhat listless.

“You think so? How do you suppose we do that?” Senfeng left his jaw gaping at the end of the last word, lifting his head up to peer down his nose, even deeper in concentration.

“Well, I know coming right out and asking her might raise suspicion. I’m sure the walls around here have ears. We need to get her to the room somehow…” Jon was pacing by the window now.

“Maybe we need to get to her room…” Senfeng said absently. He stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth really focusing hard now, writing in the air like a maniac.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jon laughed, but was really a bit concerned. But just then, Senfeng poked directly in front of his face at the space he’d been doing all his finger work.  When he moved his finger, there was a tiny hole. It expanded to a rectangular shape and created a sort of window, into… The ogresses room. “Oh. I guess you’re already on it.” Jon would have been impressed, had he not felt like some sort of joke had just been played on him. Senfeng was looking goofily in Jon’s direction, clearly waiting for applause. None came. Jon looked crankily out the window. Senfeng shrugged indifferently and continued to peer through the hole.

“Hello? Madam? Are you there?” Senfeng was calling through the hole in space.

“Ugh, how dare you?!” A long bony hand reached through the window. Its pointy red painted fingernails just missed scratching Senfeng’s nose as he pulled back. “How dare you invade my privacy like this!?” Was there blood in the hand? Jon got up to join the interaction.

“I’m terribly sorry to bother you like this, but we really required an audience, and this seemed to be the safest way.”

“You’ll see how safe it is when I climb through there and crunch your bones!” Jon grimaced at the visual. He put himself down next to Senfeng. It was blood. The woman had been eating something… and it had been raw. There was blood smear on her chin and running down her otherwise very tidy blouse. They had interrupted a very private meal. As she shifted closer to the portal, Jon though he caught a glimpse of a body in the background. Wasn’t that the guy that asked if her night had been quiet? He realized he didn’t want to know.

Was it okay to be consorting with an ogress? Especially one that’s just killed a man and was in the middle of literally consuming him? Jon shuddered a little.

“Again, we’re very sorry to disturb you, but our situation is quite urgent. After our conversation last night, we wondered if you might have any useful information for us?” Was Senfeng seriously not troubled by what they were looking at? Jon could barely stand to look, but also couldn’t look away.

“And what if I did? What’s there in it for me if I tell you? I did more than my fare share, putting my neck out just warning you was really more than generous,” She hmphed. Saucy ogress.

Nonplussed, Senfeng went for it again. “well, in exchange, we could keep quiet that your safehouse is, he nodded in towards the body behind her, “less than safe.” He smiled sweetly.

“So that’s how it is then? Look I’m doing you a favor love. That man was telling me he saw you two arrive last night, and was trying black mail me for more information. He saw you before you disguised yourselves. He knew who you two were. Lucky for your I’ve got communication jamming spells up the hilt here or he’d have blabbed the news to every rogue wizard in the London area that’d be willing to lay a shilling. I just took care of ‘em that’s all.” Her accent had shifted to something far less sweet as the conversation heated. Apparently, they weren’t the only ones with masks on. How’d you get through to my apartment anyway?”

“It wasn’t easy I assure you. There were some very complex defenses to navigate. You have a fine establishment.” He nodded. “In fact, I feel safer now than before, knowing the measures you’ve taken.” Somehow his flattery seemed to flip her mood. The ogress reverted back to her kinder manner of speech.

“Well thank you. Now take off those ridiculous disguises and speak to me face to face.” She said wiping her own with a handkerchief.

“As you wish,” Senfeng said smiling. “We couldn’t risk there being someone in the room with you who might recognize us.”

“Very understandable,” she said in her curt yet polite demeanor as Senfeng wiped the disguises from their faces.

“Now as I was saying, we were hoping you might know something that would help us.” He put on an imploring face. Somehow, she bought it. Is this old ogre into him? And is he milking it? Well, if its working, whatever.

“look, she said with a pant, all in know is this. There is someone looking for you.” She paused dramatically. “And him.” She eyeballed Jon sternly, then returning her gaze to Senfeng, continued in her polite demeanor. I was told the man who’s looking for you is a rogue wizard.”

“I figured as much.” Senfeng replied.

“Not just a rogue, though. A necromancer. You’d better watch your backs. There a knife out there for you. If he manages to do you two in, there’d be no stopping him. This is the first time in centuries that two wizards of such caliber have coexisted contemporaneously. And you know that the fresher the departed soul, the stronger the necromancer is when controlling them. If he was to use you two, he could topple the balance, and do as he pleased.” Her face was serious and worried. It was strange that an ogress should be worried for anything but herself.

“Do you know who this necromancer is?”

I’m sorry, I don’t.

Jon added, “How about your informant, can we speak with him?”

“No. You can’t.”

“Why not, is there a way to find him?” Jon implored, feeling a little desperate, grasping for anything.

“You already did find him love.” The ogress moved out of the way and thumbed at the body on the floor.

“I see,” Senfeng replied. “Well, then. Thank you for your time. We’ll be departing before the evening meal, so please, don’t prepare too much on our account.”

“That’ll be fine then,” the ogress replied curtly, but kind. The window closed. Jon and Senfeng looked at one another for a moment, at a loss.

“Well,” said Jon. We’re at square one I guess. I mean, even I guessed the man she was speaking about had to be rogue. It couldn’t be anyone serving an order, or he’d be unable to work against the balance.

“Speaking of… something’s puzzling me. How was Daniel able to betray you if he was with your Order?” He looked at Jon and an uncomfortable suspicious way.

“Well,” Jon started. “It’s simple, he wasn’t ever officially sworn to me. When we first met, he seemed so eager to bind himself to me as a household member, that when I finally had the power to do so, I never felt the rush to make it happen. Some other people had sworn themselves, but it seemed strange to bring it up to him. I took his loyalty for granted.” The thought of the betrayal and loss of his friend made him sad. He sunk slightly. “I was a fool.”

“You couldn’t have known. Not until it was too late anyway.” Senfeng patted Jon’s shoulder. “Come on, we need to prepare to leave.”

The two spent the morning planning their next move. They went over it several times, making sure they weren’t any mistakes in their plans that would give them away. After they’d eaten lunch, they took a nap for a couple of hours. It would probably be a while before they’d get to rest comfortably again. When they woke up, they cast as many protective spells as they could without causing them to interfere with one another. Jon even employed some fancy work with a four-spell weave that seemed to not only mask the other spells, making them undetectable which he hoped would give them slightly better odds when doing risky things. He’d even woven a luck spell. It was magic of the highest order. Many wizards would boast of doing it, but there were truly only a handful in history that had ever done it correctly, one of whom, was Senfeng. “I didn’t even consider a luck enchantment! That’s brilliant! Oooohhhoohoo, you’re good,” he said pointing a finger of blame at Jon. Jon went red in the face, smiling broadly. He really wasn’t accustomed to such high praise. And certainly not from someone as powerful as Senfeng.

When they were all finished with their preparations, they snuck out while no one was watching. They hoped.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 8: Transformations

 

It was exactly five p.m. when Jon walked into the rendezvous point, which was in truth, no more than a three-star chain restaurant, famous for its battered fried food. Though, if Jon was being honest, five o’clock seemed a little “early bird-ish” to him. But then again, his accomplice was over 800 years old, so perhaps it was justified. Regardless, he was worried they might appear conspicuous, even with Jon having just updated his look. It wasn’t that a few years made a big fashion difference, but he was young enough, that the juxtaposition of an older style on him as opposed to a thirty-year-old would feel oddly out of place. He wanted to do anything he could to blend in, and that included donning new clothes and hiding his long hair (which he refused to cut), which was now halfway down his back.

Looking around, Senfeng was nowhere in sight. So, he got there first huh? That was good he thought. He’d always like booth seats anyway, and Senfeng always wanted to be near the bar. But the window felt safer to Jon, and honestly, there were fewer people that could overhear them. The matradee led him to a booth in the corner away from the restroom, as requested. He didn’t like so many people walking by all the time. It was hard to keep track of them and talk at the same time, and figure out who was being nosey. Frankly it was just generally exhausting. So, nothing near bathrooms.

It was another several minutes before Senfeng actually arrived. Jon had already ordered their drinks and was feeling a bit anxious. Jon liked to be a little early. It was probably a side-effect from working with Talbot so long. The man had been strange, but always very punctual. Senfeng arrived at the same moment their beer arrived at the table. “Sorry. I’m not usually late. I had some difficulty procuring what we need,” he confessed.

“Don’t worry about it. Thanks for going to the trouble. You were doing it to help me anyway. I’m just sorry I couldn’t be of any use.” Jon was feeling a little guilty. They had decided the first thing they needed to do was to lift the charm on the grimoire. Whoever was after them, wanted to keep Jon weak, which meant that if he could master the book, they might just have one up on this guy.

They’d been spending the last two weeks hopping form safe-house to safe-house, never staying more than one night, and never wearing the same disguise twice. Sometimes they disguised just their faces, sometimes their ages, sometimes their ethnicities, and sometimes, even their genders. It got awkward a few times, but they did what they had to. They couldn’t risk being recognized. There was a price on them, and they knew why. They were powerful, but if enough people got together, they could still lose. And that would only mean one thing…

So as an extra measure, whenever Jon located a safehouse, they would do their homework. They’d figure out all the enchantments on the house and the residents inside first, which took them a full afternoon most of the time if they worked together. But it gave Jon good practice exercising his theoretical knowledge in a tangible way. That left them the evenings to work on deciphering the enchantment on the grimoire from the privacy of their room. For such a powerful text to become enchanted, somebody must’ve gone through great pains to make such and achievement. They had barely scratched the surface of the spell when they hit a wall. They realized that not only was the enchantment concealed, it was also protected, and that protective spell was sealed with a binding. The spell had woven itself into magic of the book itself. This was very complicated stuff, and would take someone who was particularly adept at disenchantments and bind-breaking. It was neither of their expertise. Jon had been trying to use a finding spell to find someone, but the extravagance of the book’s magic clouded his ability to see anything that could destroy it. This went beyond high-level crafting. It bordered on creation magic, which Jon had recently learned about. It was the highest order of magic. Only two practitioners in history were known to have mastered it, one was Merlin and the other was not hailed as a sorcerer at all. Both the men had technically died, sort of. The crafting of the book had taken it so far from what it had originally been that it was almost necessary to consider it a new thing. It didn’t bode well for Jon’s quest. If it was in fact creation magic, he would never be able to recover its contents.

With creation magic, laws were not worked around or distorted. The magic that worked itself might have its own set of laws, that could exist within yet separated from those of the surrounding space. For a spell to affect a person’s ability craft normally, and for it to distort the principles of magic that might affect it, it was highly likely to be creation magic. If not that, then it was at least a highly complex network of crafting, that went far beyond casting a single enchantment.

In a way, it was good news. This meant that while it was frustrating that his traitor had done such a difficult enchantment, it also meant that he had help. He was simply too young to have had the time to read and learn the amount of texts that would’ve been required for such complex work. That said, such help would be rare. There were very few sorcerers who were knowledgeable enough to weave that kind of magic that weren’t working to maintain the balance. What made it difficult was how secretive the world outside wizarding orders was. There were cults, covens, networks, and dark orders, all operating independently, and all with their own motivations. The magic underground had grown adept over the centuries at being inconspicuous.

Jon and Sen, as Jon now called him, had compiled a small list of potential culprits. More importantly, that list was also full of people who might potentially be able to help. First things first however.

They were now in a small town in Arizona in America, preparing to visit the head of an order that specialized in healing. They were getting ready to go to Sedona, which was also known as the Vortex for its placement on the ley line. The Order’s seat was in the middle of a tourist destination. Therefore, to protect its identity, they had disguised their location as a ranch/resort. Sen was on good terms with the head of the Order there, and knew they’d be relatively safe there for a while as they did their research. It was also much better protected than any safehouse could be which meant they’d be able to stay for more than one night. They needed a break. And they needed uninterrupted time for research. Part of why they hadn’t gotten very far was how busy they were simply trying to stay safe. Jon wondered why they hadn’t done this sooner.

So, there they were at a chain restaurant in a freeway town somewhere near the intersection of Route 66 and I40, drinking at 5 in the afternoon. “What was it you had to go do anyway?” Jon asked Sen.

“There’s an oracle nearby. I was hoping it might be able to tell me something about what’s been going on.” Sen said a little reluctantly.

“I see,” said Jon, slightly bummed. He had asked Senfeng to help find leads that might get them closer to answers, since Jon couldn’t look for himself due to his position as the head of the Order. He had asked Jon years ago to divine his potential murderer’s identity, but it was clouded to Jon. That was another reason getting the book dispelled was so important. Jon figured if he could read it, it might unlock some of abilities. And his ancestors had yet to offer any help, in the three years since they’d taken up residence in his head. They hadn’t even said a word to him. “So…?  Any luck?” He had mixed feeling about whatever the answer might be.

“Nothing. As it happens, the oracle here is rather weak. They’re very young, and disconnected from crafting society. On top of lacking any significant power, they’re sourcing their knowledge on human witchcraft, which is almost never genuine, so he’s extremely limited. His divining was very hit or miss, and he told me nothing important.” Senfeng looked a bit crestfallen.

“You know Sen, if you were to take me to him, even with his limited power, it would still augment my abilities significantly to align with another seer. I might be able to cut through all this fog surrounding us.” Jon was feeling a little perked up for the first time in quite a while. “But we should go now, before it gets dark, if we want to get to our destination in time.

“I’d thought of that, but there might be some pretty high-level risk involved.” You see this seer hasn’t just bought into human witchcraft, which is unsteady enough. He’s also made a pact with a familiar.

Jon’s hopes fell as quickly as they’d risen, like the crush of a wave on a beach. He’d read about familiars. There were wizards out there who had them, and if the wizard was powerful and careful enough, with the right knowledge, the bond could be mutually beneficial. In many cases however, the demons would simply take. They use their contractor, the wizard as a point of contact to graft themselves to the physical plane, and slowly leach their power, and when they’ve found their opening, destroy the wizard bodily in order to finally appropriate whatever might be due them upon the death of the wizard depending on the contract. It would leave them free to the make a new contract, provided they hadn’t been bound too long.

It was simple math. Demons didn’t care about people, why should they? The more people they could contract with, the more they could gain, the more powerful the demon could become. It was that simple. Whoever this guy was, it seemed to Jon he was in real trouble.

“None-the-less I think I’d like to go and try,” Jon said with a slight shift in his motivation. A new idea had occurred to him.

“Did you hear what I told you? It’s a bad idea. We should cut our losses and go.” He sounded clinical. It was in moments like this that Jon remembered Senfeng’s age. It wasn’t quite like he seemed to have lost his sense of humanity, but his sense of life and death and been somehow altered by hundreds of years of watching. He was detached from certain aspects of humanity. Death, seemed to hold small significance in his eyes. Wizards who were weak died from working with powers bigger than their abilities. It was just how it was to him. At, least that was Jon’s perception of what was going on.

“I know, but I have an idea I’d like to try. If it doesn’t work, we’ll move on, no harm done, hopefully.”

Senfeng eyed him suspiciously. “This is risky. I cannot see what purpose you would have seeing this boy if you aren’t going to attempt to a vision ceremony with him.”

‘I just need you to trust me.”

“I’m too old to believe in men.” His words were nonchalant, but they felt oddly icy in Jon’s ears. After a few moments, he seemed to relent, after Jon appeared to have won a kind of stare down. They were going to go.

After finishing their drinks, they hurried to the place Sen had first met with the oracle. It was like a scene from a film. They were in the middle of the desert, up on a lone mountain in a flat. The shadows cast by the mountains in the distance were long. It was nearing sunset. Between them and the sun sat a silhouette on a rock. Jon felt a sense of pomp and circumstance. It comically reminded him of meeting Sen, except his friend’s power seemed to bear the weight of such an introduction whereas this reeked of pretention.

The boy was sitting on a rock, and once Jon had got a good look, he saw he was no more than eighteen or nineteen. So, Jon knew he must still be young. He wore a linen cloth wrapped around him like a toga. A large crow was sitting on his shoulder. His familiar. If what Senfeng had said was true, this boy was in for a sad and short life.

“I was expecting to see you again.” What a convenient thing to say. Of course, a seer who was supposed to be open to cosmic vision at all times would try to reassure their guests with that kind of comment.

“Hello again,” Sen said with his usual friendly tone. “I’ve brought a friend with me this time. He wanted to meet you.

“I know,” The boy said, sounding slightly offended at the offer of information. Perhaps people didn’t usually bother explaining circumstances to oracles…

“My name is Jon, and I have a request to make of you.”

“Hello Jon, I am able to see anything you like.” He sounded proud and confident.

“I’m sure you are,” said Jon feigning confidence in the boy. But that isn’t what I’m here for. And I wasn’t asking you, Jackson Niyol, I was asking your familiar there,” said Jon, nodding toward the crow.

Senfeng’s eyes narrowed sharply. Turning to Jon he said, “Just what is it exactly you’re planning. I didn’t bring you hear to converse with a demon.”

“I know. I’m sorry, friend. I was concerned you wouldn’t bring me if I told you my plan.” He returned his attention to the crow, whose head was cocked to one side away from the boy, and was eying Jon unblinkingly.”

“How do you know my name? Are you an oracle as well?” Jackson’s expression seemed mixed with confusion and a strange hunger.

“Yes and no,” said Jon. He wanted to be cautious. He didn’t trust demons, and without a contract with this one, there was no guarantee of safety if he let too much about himself slip. “But I do have keen sight. Jackson, I’ve come to free you from your burden with your familiar.”

“What? …I mean… No,” Jackson said, shaking his sense of formality back into place. “He and I have a contract. You can’t break it, and besides, I don’t want to be freed. I’m not a prisoner.”

“I know you aren’t a prisoner. Your food. I’m sure you believe it’s been teaching you secrets other people don’t know. But it’s keeping your knowledge slim on purpose. It’s sapping your power. And It’s using you to get information on other wizards. Information is power Jackson. You’ve put a lot of sorcerers in danger because of that bird on your shoulder.” Jon hoped this revelation would crack through the thick layer of obvious pride the boy had shrouded himself in.

Jackson laughed. “What could a small-time wizard know about contracts with a familiar? He’s made me powerful. I’ve learned so much.”

“You need to listen to me, I have seen that you made a contract with this familiar in order for him to teach you. I know how you stumbled on the information to perform the ceremony. That dark bit of magic should never have existed in that magic shop. Things like that aren’t accidents. It planted itself there to prey on ignorant wizards who were looking for more.” Jon was speaking as he was seeing the history unfold in his mind. He hesitated to finish what he was wanting to say. “That bird…” Jon said. “It will eat you, flesh and soul.”

Jackson laughed loudly. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. This spirit and I …” But he was cut off by Jon again.

“Do you know what that spirit is? Have you read the lore from around here? Is he not familiar at all to you? His very nature is treachery.” Jon was becoming inflamed at seeing the boy in a trap he was unwilling to see himself. “That bird is more powerful than any young wizard could handle.” Without letting the boy speak, he turned to the bird. “So, will you hear my bargain. I’m sure you can sense my value.”

The bird who had not moved even slightly during this exchange hopped onto Jackson’s head. Jackson’s eyes turned white as the crow dug its claws into him. A trickle of blood ran down the side of his face where the bird had punctured his forehead. A strange wind came up that seemed to encase them. Dust flew in their faces. It was strange, the wind had died down already… Jon could sense magic working. The boy rose into the air hovering. A strange voice came from his mouth that was not his own. “Be gone Seer. I have all I need. You will not interrupt my plans.”

Jon tried not to appear intimidated. Senfeng looked steely, ready for a fight. “You know why I’ve come. I want to make a contract with you. You only need to leave this boy be, and come with me. You know my potential is greater than his.”

“Though your offer is tempting, I’ve decided. I will continue with the boy. He’s useful to me.”

“You will break your tie with the boy.”

“I will not. And contracts are not easily severed. He is mine now.” The boy smiled in proxy for the bird.

Was it really a good idea to engage with a demon in combat? Especially one so old and powerful? “Is this the danger you meant Sen?” Jon asked half smiling.

“I had considered things going awry, yes. I assume you know this bird?” he chanced a glance at Jon for information.

“I think it’s safe to say we both do, by reputation anyway.”

At Jon’s words, the bird’s and Jackson’s eyes widened dramatically. The boy’s body immediately began making strange movements and he was mumbling in a strange language. It didn’t sound remotely like anything humans would ever have spoken. It was harsh and raspy. A dark mass was forming around the boy.

Senfeng seemed to know what was coming. He cast quick work. Jon had not even seen the motions he’d made, but suddenly there was a repelling wall of light between them and the oracle. There was a sound like thunder and the wall shook, breaking apart from the center. The dark shroud seemed to have fired at the wall. The force of it sent a wave through Jon and Senfeng, who was already making his next move. Jon needed to get to a place where he could weave the craft he’d been mentally preparing since the restaurant.

“Whatever you’re planning, I hope you’re ready. This is not going last long!” Senfeng was encased in white light. He was striking the dark mass around the bird, preventing it from attacking again. With every blow, the shrouds around both the boy as well as Sen seemed to deplete a bit.

Jon worked fast. “Just get rid of the shroud! I’ll be ready!” He was straining to be heard over the booms of light and dark clashing. Jon was writing frantically in the air with his had, leaving streaks of light in the paths of his hands. He was creating a chamber. In some ways, it was similar to the dimensional portal that connected his door to Sen’s parlor.

“Get ready!” Senfeng shouted. He had dealt a heavy blow to the shroud that had grounded the bird and Jackson. “And…” He jumped back and with a strange weaving and a downward gesture as he flew backward in mid-air, a circular pattern of light appeared above the head of the crow, slamming down on him like a castle gate. “… Now!!!”

Jon was ready. The circle had done the trick. The dark mass had been crushed and the crow was trapped. “Crow! I call you by name! Trickster! I bind you in the mouth of your own trap!” As he spoke he finalized the weaving and the writing he had been making in the air became plainly visible. It was a shining golden color. It was brilliant to see. The weaving had been working its way invisibly toward the crow, almost like a tunnel filled with brilliant webbing. It made Jon think of a funnel spider’s web, but more elegant, and clean. The crow wretched in unworldly tones as it resisted being pulled in. Too late. The crow’s claws failed to secure themselves onto the boy, scratching him badly as it was pulled into the tunnel of light. As it passed into the vortex Jon had created, it thrashed wildly. The tunnel seemed to be pulling it through like a vacuum cleaner. As passed through, it’s feathers seemed to be fading from black, to grey to gold to white. As it changed, the bird itself seemed to regain its sense of composure. It looked less like it was crashing through space and seemed to find the wind. Nearing the end of the tunnel at which Jon stood, the bid had begun to soar gracefully through the space, seeming to welcome the change. By its exit, it the demon was covered in pure white feathers. It’s steel colored beak had become silver, and its dark eyes had turned to a solid electric blue. It was beautiful and unnerving at the same time.

The bird gently alighted on Jon’s extended arm and crooned softly. “And my name,” Jon said to the bird, stroking its head with his finger, “Is Jon Sait.” As he said it, his breath became like glowing string, the color of the writing he just crafted. It coiled around the bird from head to toe, tightening. The bird shuddered, and then the thread of light seeped through the bird’s feathers and disappeared.

“Are your sure that was wise?” Senfeng’s words broke the new and strange silence. It was now nearing the end of the twilight, and a deep silver-blue cloak had blanketed the valley.

“It was necessary.” The bird hopped incrementally up his arm and rested on his shoulder. “I couldn’t leave the boy to die like that.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d learned enough to realize the fate the boy was destined for.” Senfeng smirked a little. Was he proud of Jon? “That was masterful weaving. How did you learn that binding spell?”

“Well, I guess I didn’t learn it, technically.” Jon felt a little on the spot. I’d read about the principle. I knew that to bind a spirit, you had to overcome it with its own power, and that you needed to know its name to summon it into the binding. I also knew that the caster’s name was the final seal. Other than that, I pretty much winged it. I wove a bind that integrated trickery, which is where you came in. I had to lie to it to make the binding work. I knew he was the trickster when I saw him, from having read local legends about the southwest in native lore. So, I had its name. I knew it would be dangerous. It wouldn’t have worked if you hadn’t caught him off guard.  Honestly, with his nature being what it was, had I simply contracted him, he would have deceived me like the boy, breaking the contract and enslaving me. That’s how it works isn’t it? When a demon overpowers its contractor, they can take possession?”

“Yeah. It doesn’t matter how. It can even be a mental battle. You’re very fortunate. This is the only good outcome that would have been possible,” Senfeng said as he walked to Jackson who was heaped on the ground, his clothes in tatters. “In any case, I’m surprised you pulled it off. God work. That think will never be able to escape you now, so long as you breathe.”

Jon felt reassured. He was worried that there might be some loophole he didn’t know about that the Trickster might be able to use to escape.

“What you won’t find in a book or any scroll,” Sen said, kneeling and scooping up the boy, “is that once a spirit is bound to you, by capture and not by contract, they reform, taking on the identity of their master, becoming an extension of that person. Even if the Trickster could manage an escape or betrayal, it’s unlikely he would choose to. It’s not just a cage, it’s a transformation. You’ve created a new identity for that creature … His words seemed thick with meaning to Jon, for more than obvious reasons. It wasn’t just the gravity of having bound a demon to himself permanently. There was something veiled in his words.

“I’m just not sure how I feel about being bound to a demon forever,” Jon suddenly felt uncomfortable with what he had done.

“It’s too late for that. It’s done. Besides, that’s no longer a demon. it’s a familiar spirit now.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” Jon was puzzled now. He was fairly new to this kind of magic, and it wasn’t his specialty, adept as he seemed to be at it.

“You wove the casting, didn’t you? Couldn’t you sense the malevolent intent being purged from the spirit as it was bound? That’s why it required transformation magic. It was innately evil. For it to continue to exist in any form alongside as your subordinate, it had to transform. A bound familiar cannot bear a dissimilar nature from its master. This part of the magic is innate. If it hadn’t transformed, it would have been destroyed. This is the final choice a bound spirit makes, enslavement, or destruction, in some cases anyway. Once in a while, a spirit is already compatible with the caster binding it. But when that’s the case, a binding isn’t usually necessary. In those circumstances, a contract is usually enough.” This pearl of wisdom was very enlightening, but also opened up so many questions for Jon. He could hardly think straight.

“But I didn’t weave all that into my binding. How did …”

Senfeng sighed. “Were you listening? That part of the magic is innate.” It’s the nature of a binding. There is magic in actions as well as in words and gestures. Sometimes, magic is woven by a decision. That’s part of the fabric of most spells and enchantments. Your will at that moment was to save the boy, and nullify the demon’s ability to leach off others, right? Alongside your benevolent disposition, that probably integrated into your weaving without you having to literally inscribe it to the binding. This kind of magic is a more complete variety, forming the basis of the whatever magic acts as a base for. It’s creation magic.”

Jon was surprised. He was about to speak, but Sen cut him off. “It’s dark now, we should be going. This boy needs help.” Looking down, Jon could see the boy’s body was mangled. “Put your hand on my shoulder, I know a safe place.” Senfeng put a hand on the battered boy’s chest. The moment Jon touched Sen, they were surrounded by streaming light and hurtling through space.

As suddenly as they started moving, they stopped. They had warped through space in a moment. The result was disorientation, at least for Jon. Sen however, wasted no time moving toward the large wooden post gate that loomed ten yards away. It was labeled with branding marks, and horseshoes, the kind of southwestern kitsch common among ranches. Stacking Stone Resort and Health Spa was burned into the large pine post that hung about fifteen feet over the rot-iron gate. Jon struggled with the boy’s body as he rose, hurrying along. They passed thought the gate quickly. Several people in white polo shirts came running down the road toward them. How had they known they were there? Was there an alarm at the gate? They took Jackson from Jon’s arms. The one who seemed to be in charge, looked at the boy intensely, then up at Jon and Senfeng. “This is bad. We need to hurry.” They all walked quickly. Strangely, the scape seemed to scroll past them, like their journey was in fast-forward but their legs were not. Suddenly they were outside a large stone lodge structure. This was apparently the resort. It was contemporary and clean. There was a fountain at the entrance, which was paved, and large aloes and ocotillo cacti had been meticulously placed and tended. There was grass as well, bordered by the same flagstone pattern that made up the face of the building, lending a serene appeal.

The situation and the visual elements juxtaposed ominously in Jon thoughts, making it feel dream-like and ominous. Though that may have been more due to having recently teleported and then also magically sped up in quick succession.

They passed through the solid glass French doors which opened inward without help and entered a very modern Sonoran setting, complete with a very large flagstone fireplace in the center of an enormous, and strangely vacant lobby, save one person.

They were immediately confronted with an enormously tall woman. Not inhumanly tall, a bit on the freakish side, rounding out at about 6’6”. She nodded calmly in greeting to Sen and turned on the spot, leading the way through the complex. They went through the building and outside, down a path and stopped outside a small circular adobe building with a thatched roof. It looked clean, but vastly different from the rest of what Jon had seen up to that point.

“Tell me what happened,” the woman said in a deep, elegant voice. Her voice was like a large pool of calm water. It had a sonorous quality, Jon noted. Not booming like a singer in an amphitheater, but calling, like a quiet voice carrying across a lake.

Jon understood she was addressing him. “We unbound him from a possessing spirit. There was a struggle, and he was injured in the process.” He said processing the results of his decision for the first time. Guilt pinched at his guts.

“Mmmm. I see” she spoke just above a whisper, gaining apparent understanding that surpassed Jon’s weak explanation. Her eyes moved to Jon’s new familiar. “The spirit had taken control and you removed it by force then? That was quick thinking binding it to yourself in a pinch.” Her eyebrow raised at Jon as she motioned for them to place the boy’s body on the table in the center of the room. Jon had only just realized the great white raven was standing on the floor by his side. The lodge reminded Jon of the ceremonial chambers at the Chateau. He felt suddenly melancholy and nostalgic.

“It seemed to be the only way to save him.” Jon felt like he was defending himself.

“It was,” was all she said. Jon felt a course of relief travel through him, and the guilty tension in his gut eased slightly. “That doesn’t mean we can save his body though.” Her gaze was on the body on the table, her brows furrowed. “In truth, there may not be much we can do for him. The connection between his body and spirit has been almost completely severed. The spirit left very reluctantly.” As she spoke she was waving her hands over the boy’s form, her fingers wiggling oddly. “His body is badly damaged from the fight, but repairing it would be easy …” She became very serious. Jon looked from her to Sen, who was watching her intently, as if trying to see into her.

Jon looked back at her as she worked. She walked quickly over to a table against the wall and grabbed an unmarked bottle. The fluid inside was clear, but caught more of the light that seemed possible. She poured some on her hands, as if washing up, and then carefully dotted his body in several places, starting with his forehead and moving down. “Senfeng, I will need your help with this. I need you to root his qi into his body as I attempt to stabilize it.

Senfeng nodded and turned his attention to the body. His hands began to weave in undulating patterns, one pushed and the other pulled, it was a cyclical motion, repeating itself over and over as the woman worked individually at each of the points she had touched with the liquid. It had begun to glow silver white, and seemed to be drawing light into the body. Jon stood back, watching.

“You,” she said curtly at Jon. “Performing a reading. What is in the boy’s future.” Jon felt jarred. He shook his head to snap out of his observant complacency.

“Of course.” He stepped around to the head of the table. Placing his hands on the sides of Jackson’s head, Jon began to search. He wasn’t very good at seeing into the future yet, not clearly anyway. This was not the time however to declare his incompetence at the craft over which he was hailed as lord. As he searched, he felt shadows and light spinning around them. His eyes were closed, but he could see clearly, the body on the table, the spirit above it looking like silver light, being sucked in through the points the woman had placed on the body. He could the portion of the spirit that had been pulled in being cycled through the body by Sen as he pushed and pulled. Jon understood what they were doing clearly now. The circulating lights and darks were spirits. There was something pivotal about this moment for so many to be present, and in such a mixed group. He pushed forwards, into future sight, leaving the visual of the present space behind, focusing on Jackson. He saw Jackson, walking away. The world around was dark, and as he walked it began to disappear into the darkness. Jon could hear himself saying without trying to speak, “We are losing him, he is choosing to pass on.” His voice sounded far away, like a memory. A cry inside him lurched out. He had seen the boy’s past. It had been lonely. There had been no one to understand him. And his need to understand himself had led him further into alienation. He could sense Jackson wanted to give up. There was no hope in remaining. This would be his fate.

Jon couldn’t accept that. He returned to the now in his mind’s eye. Jackson’s spirit was hovering over his body still, but appeared faint. “No,” he though. “I came to save you. There is still hope. Don’t give up now.”

The spirit seemed to hear Jon’s thoughts. It looked at him with earnest. The pretense from their previous encounter was gone. The spirit, which Jon knew could not lie, was the real Jackson, without pretense. It was serious, and afraid, but steady, resolute. It spoke. “If you want to save me, there is only one way.” As it spoke, Jon understood its meaning.

“But no… that can’t be it. Not after what you went through. Not after what we just did.” Jon felt hot tears well up through his closed eyelids, running down his face.

“Only one who knows me completely can do this. If it’s going to be done, it must be by you. Will you do this? Will you contract me, as a spirit?”

“But that’s not a complete life. You’ll never be a person again.”

“I won’t really have a body, but that bond has already been too damaged to repair, and the woman knows it. Jon turned his head, with eyes closed to the face of the woman. It was like seeing double. She was working with her real hand and focused. But the silvery light version of her was shaking her head, out of sync with her body. Her silver white hands were at her side. Jon understood, it was not that she was not willing, but that it was not possible. He returned his attention to the spirit. This was why she had really called him to the table. She had known immediately what couldn’t be done. But she’d tried anyway. This was a last resort.

“If you are sure you don’t want to pass on, that you are willing to live on, as a familiar, and never be like a human spirit again, if you know that is what you want, I will contract with you.”

The spirit didn’t move. Jon knew it’s mind was made. “Know that … please know … This isn’t what I wanted for you.” Jon’s face was burning.

“That’s why I will only do this with you, and no other.” You wanted to show me hope for the world. I see it in you. I was a fool before, to call you weak. I … I don’t want to die like this.”

Jon breathed deeply. Without speaking. His hands spread out wide. As he did, the dark spirits were expelled from the room like paper in the wind. Only the light spirits remained, witnesses to unseen history.

Jon opened his eyes to see Sen looking at Jon. They exchanged a tacit understanding. The woman and already backed away, expecting, and hoping for this moment, ready for it. Senfeng backed away as well.

Jon spoke. “I, Jon Sait, Lord of the House of Sait, head of the Order of the Seers, call to you, Jackson Niyol. I offer you a place of service to me in exchange for your enablement to remain in corporeal bonds. Do you accept?” As Jon spoke he wrote in strange runes that floated in the air between himself and the now disembodied spirit of Jackson Niyol, which hovered above the table. The writing was in the same golden light that bound the Trickster. Jackson didn’t move, but spoke instead.

“I, Jackson Niyol, agree to abandon my destiny as an esper to engage in contract with you, Jon Sait, Lord of Seers. I offer you my service in agreement with your terms.” The process felt automatic. Jon had never performed a contract, but it felt like simply making an agreement. Really, he thought to himself, that’s all it is. It was far less ceremonious than he’d imagined it to be. As the words came from the spirit’s mouth, they formed into a similar looking, though silvery white, set of script to Jon’s, and intermingled with them. When they had interwoven completely, they enclosed their gaps and expanded in a ball of light around Jon and Jackson and the body. The invoker, the spirit, and the vessel, the three key things in a contract. The light retracted, and went inside Jon and the vessel. As the light retracted into the body, so did Jackson’s spirit. And that was that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 9: Spa Life

 

There was a period of quiet. It was restful, but heavy, like sitting in an ambulance after being attacked, knowing you’re safe, but knowing things are different, and shocked by what’s just happened. No one spoke, but Jackson opened his eyes. He sat up in his quiet and looked around observing the scene calmly. He let himself down from the table and knelt in front of Jon, kissing his ring in service. No words were necessary. This was the final step. Jon wasn’t sure how Jackson knew that this was the final act in engaging in service to an order. A sorcerer had to submit not only to their craft but also to the keeper of the order. It was old magic, that bound them to the secrets of their craft. Although they had been contracted to each other, for Jackson to serve Jon, this was a requirement.

Jackson stood up, and the woman walked quietly forward. She snapped her fingers quietly and a pile of white fabric appeared and fell into her outstretched arms easily. She passed a parcel first to Jackson, who was in tatters, then to Jon, then to Senfeng. The three of you should get some rest. There is a hot spring out back up the pathway you can soak in to clean up. It’s loaded with minerals and nutrients that will help you rest. When you’re done, send for me, and I’ll see to your sleeping arrangements.”

“Thank you, Elizabeth,” Sen said. “I’ll be sure to make proper introductions then.” As he spoke she nodded to him disappeared slowly into the air. The three looked around at one another, they all looked awful, though Jon was easily in the best shape. The other two looked like train wrecks. Sen’s clothes were nearly as destroyed as Jacksons, and he was also looking very beat up. Jon had been so busy weaving his trap against the Trickster he hadn’t seen Senfeng fighting the creature to keep it from interrupting the spell. A bath was a really good idea. Jon could smell Jackson, it was unpleasant. Had he been living on that rock?

The three walked out into the open air, where the breeze was warm but refreshing, and the sky was bright and clear with stars. “I see the appeal here,” Jon said. The stars are different than in France, but the sky is nearly as clear as in the Alps.” Truthfully it was the same sky as in New Jersey, but he’d never been able to see it well through the pollution.

“Yes, that’s actually part of why I wanted to come here in the first place. It was very convenient for us that it also hosts the best healers in the world. I had not anticipated needing their services in that way.” Sen said musing at their fortune.

“For the sky? I mean, I get it I guess.” Jon knew celestial divining in theory alone. He had thus far spent no time practicing the art. “So where are we anyway?” asked Jackson. “It looks like we’re still in Arizona.”

“We are. We’re near Sedona, as planned. We’re at what non-magic humans think is just a health spa.” He smirked at the audacity of hiding such a place in plain sight.

“So, it isn’t a health spa then?” asked Jon, beginning to wonder if he should feel disappointed.

“Well, yes and no. It’s true they do front as a health spa, and so offer all the same amenities, but it’s really a ruse. This area has become a very popular place for travelers and hikers in recent history, but has been called hope to the Order of Healers for over 150 years. In order to protect their secrets, they’ve created this disguise. “

“Ohhhh….” Said Jon and Jackson simultaneously. They looked at each other with comprehension, silhouetted by starlight.

The path was a bit hard to follow in the dark, but magically illuminating it wasn’t really possible since there were regular people on the compound. And they still weren’t sure if there were any people on sight they shouldn’t trust. They did eventually make their way to the spring, and Jon nearly slipped in by accident.

The three stripped down and climbed into the warm water. The breeze felt fresh and cool on Jon’s chest where the water had lapped up onto him. The pool was shallow enough to sit in like a hot tub. It was great.

“So, how are you feeling? Does it feel different?” Asked Jon.

“Who, me?” Jackson called to him.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Hmmm… Well, I feel lighter now. I didn’t realize how oppressive that demon had become over me.”

“That probably started when he began to take hold on you slowly.” Senfeng said quietly from his side of the basin. His head was back as he looked up at the stars. His long black hair was sprawled behind him on the mineral caked rock.

“That makes sense. It didn’t start out feeling like that when I first made my contract” Jackson looked at Senfeng, facing away from Jon, who noticed how skinny and unhealthy Jackson looked as he came up and waded waist deep around the middle of the pool, skimming the water with his hands. Jon knew he had been living ascetically, but had also struggled to get by doing readings.

His wet hair was obviously unkept, and when dry was somewhat bushy from its split-ends, though not very long, just messy. As he turned to complete his reply to Jon, Jon noticed in the faint light that his face was sunken in to a degree. It was obvious as he stood juxtaposed against Senfeng who was the picture of fitness, ironic considering Jackson was the teenager and Senfeng was over a millennium old.

“I feel less connected to myself, like I’m driving a car. But I feel more in control as well.” He put his hand on his chest, as though feeling something new that wasn’t there before. “And I can’t explain it, but I feel safer somehow.”

“That’s the power of your master.” Sen cut across the conversation.

“What do you mean?” asked Jon, who was still not completely familiar with bindings and contracts, though he had now performed three to date.

“Well, when a wizard contracts or binds with a spirit, they share power. It works like an exchange. If one has a power or skill the other does not, he grants that power to the other. In the case with the two of you, there is, and I mean no offense to you by this,” he said looking to Jackson, “but there is very little Jackson brings to the table in your arrangement. As a seer, though he may not be incredibly experienced, Jon is among the most powerful I have ever seen, and the rate at which he amasses his skills as a crafter, I have only known only one other as adept as he is.”

“Oh, Jackson looked somewhat crestfallen. That explains why he looked so bright when I saw his spirit.”

“Yes,” said Sen. “I’ve never encountered such latent energy in a single person before.” This was beginning to make Jon uncomfortable. He wasn’t that powerful, and didn’t need the power trip, or the ego boost.

“Okay. Okay, that’s enough,” he cut the conversation short. He was blushing at the, but really, he just couldn’t accept what they were saying. He was so far from mastery, and still hadn’t been able to read the book. What they were saying was impossible. He hadn’t meant to, but he had come across short.

Sen, who unlike Jackson was not magically bound to obey continued, to speak, but changed the subject anyway. “It’s not entirely a one-sided gain.” He was addressing Jackson. While, it’s true you aren’t as powerful as your master, you can offer him abilities unavailable to wizards without familiars.”

“What do you mean?” He looked perplexed. “I mean, I know that it offers duality of consciousness. You can use your familiar like a proxy and channel your presence through them. I used to do that with the Trickster.” He paused as Sen dunked his head under the water to clean his face and hair. “But, other than thank, I never noticed anything different, aside from augmented power, but you said yourself, I’m weaker than Jon.”

There was a pause as Senfeng scrubbed the dirt from his face and dunked again. Pulling his hair away from his face with his hands like a squeegee, he spoke again. “That’s true, but it also isn’t. As a spirit, you have latent access to your power. Your craftwork is direct. As living people, and I hope not to seem insensitive in light if the freshness of your situation, we as wizards must channel our energies through our bodies.”

“.. Mmmm, but I have a body.”

“No, you have a vessel.” It binds you to corporeality, but is no longer connected to you in the same way. You should think of it more as an anchor, than a container. Your power isn’t contained throughout it, but is in fact bonded to it.

“I get it!” Said Jon excited to have finally understood. “When you were trying to save him earlier, that woman had you attempting to re-interlace his spirit with his body!” This all made so much more sense.

“Exactly.” Senfeng nodded courteously. “However, when a person is really dying, and their destiny has come, the ties that bind them to life, to their bodies sever, and they pass on into a different form that can’t directly impact physical substance. Beings that crave that ability seek out contracts. There’s a lot of reasons why that might be. That’s why Elizabeth asked you to do a reading. She needed to confirm if it really was his destiny to die there. She could feel his spirit losing its grip on his body.

“I figured that, when I saw the look her spirit had.”

“What did you say?” Senfeng asked abruptly.

“Umm, well…” Jon felt caught off guard. “I saw her body and spirit at the same time when I was doing the reading. Her body was trying to weave, but her spirit seemed to already know what was happening, and had stopped trying. Spirits can’t lie right? Not even to themselves.”

“You should not have been able to see that in a reading.” Sen sounded grave.

“What?” we’ll have to discuss this later, inside.

“Uhhhmm ... okay, I guess?” Jon was confused and more than slightly irritated. He was the seer. And it didn’t feel any different than other readings he’d done. He should know, right?

Jon dunked himself and scrubbed his face up before they got out of the water, with the silence having grown tense and somewhat awkward. They put on the robes, which reminded Jon of a much thinner fabric version of his old robes, and carefully made their way down the path. It was easier now, the moon had risen, and was nearly full. It cast bright silver light into the valley. They were coming down a draw into the compound. They were farther up the hill than it had felt like they’d walked before.

It was Jackson who broke the silence. Sen had been too deep in thought. And Jon was feeling broody over Sens condescending attitude. So what if he was over 800 years older? Is he a seer? Don’t think so. Though admittedly, some knowledge of sight was open to all wizards, so seeing was still possible for him, but there were, without a doubt, things that Jon knew that Senfeng didn’t, he not being a member of the same order. Then again, he had been there when the grimoire was written its first draft, and had even been consulted as a confidant… In fact, he’d been the confidant to every head of his order past and present. This though struck up a few questions for Jon. For now, he would keep them to himself.

They arrived at the lobby within about five minutes. Elizabeth was there to greet them at the entrance. They hadn’t needed to call for her after all. “Well, you all look significantly better.” She said, guiding them inside, allowing them entry first, as her guests. As they re-entered the large open room, the space was full of guests, Jon suspected they were all -or nearly all- normal humans.

She congenially guided them in professional fashion around the complex, showing them the available amenities to them, that she would offer with their package. The cost was not being openly discussed for the time being.

It took some time, and they were nearly to their suite before Sen had a chance to disclose any pertinent information to her. “Elizabeth, I must be frank, I am unsure how long we might need your assistance for. We hate to be burdens, but this really is the best place for us to complete our work and do what we need.”

That’s certainly fine. If I can help in anyway, please let me know. After all you’ve done for me, I owe you a great debt.” She said sincerely with a kind of affection in her smooth voice. It wasn’t exactly romantic, but it was more than just friendly. Jon struggled to place the sentiment. Admiringly?

“I wish you could, but we can’t share any detail right now. Simply permitting us to lodge here for a while is more than enough. Besides, you’ve already done so much. I cannot guarantee that it will be entirely safe for you if we do.” He hesitated. “I hate say it, but it may not even be safe for you just housing us here,” he said bracingly.

Jon realized Sen’s hesitation. Telling her that might mean they’d have to leave, or worse, that she might let them stay anyway.

“Well,” she put her hand comfortingly to his forearm. “If that is the nature of your situation, then this is the best place for you to be. You know there’s no safer place on earth.”

“I remember well.” He said. “But even so …”

She cut across him. “It’s true, any enchantment can be broken. But pointless worry helps no one. You room is just here.” There was a sense of finality in the change of subject.

She led them to a door about half-way down the corridor, which had a glass roof, instead of a regular ceiling.

“Thank you. And if we should need any further help, I’ll let you know.” Sen said, taking the key-cards from her.

She smiled, and nodded, “I expect so,” walking away gracefully, which seemed a feat for such a tall woman. Grand, in every sense. Jon thought.

They entered the suite. It was huge. There was a living area, which had a step up to a kitchenette and bar area, with a bathroom off to the left. Beyond that behind a half wall, there was a bed area after another several steps up. It was swanky, and new. Jon had gotten used to nice things all being old. His castle, Sen’s urban compound. This was different. Everything was sleek, and new, but still a little earthy. It was a Sonoran spa after all.

“Wow.” Said Jon without reservation.

Sen smirked, “you should be used to this kind of thing by now.” He walked over to the walk-in closet in the chamber. It was full of three wardrobes worth of clothes for the three of them. “She always has outdone herself for me.” There was a note of affection in his voice, though strangely begrudging.

“Who is she anyway?” Asked Jon. “How do you know her?” By this point, he’d forgotten to be annoyed anymore.

Sen took a deep breath and sighed, pausing for a moment before speaking. “Her name is Elizabeth Hubbard, and I met her a very long time ago. She’d been possessed, so the head of the healing order, knowing that I was adept at bindings, asked my help.” He mused with a distant expression on his face. If he said it was a long time ago, it really must have been. “She’d been forced to do terrible things by her possessor. When I freed her, her gratitude was so great, she her swore eternal aid to me whenever I should need it. The oath was unnecessary, but I’ve been thankful for her friendship ever since.” He looked at Jon, knowing his thoughts. “It’s not like pledging to an order. “When a wizard pledges their aid, for whatever amount of time, or circumstances, it can be to anyone. She isn’t a member of my household. In fact, she’s now the head of the Order of Healers.”

“Makes sense I guess,” said Jon, who was exploring the contents of the bar. He extracted some gin and tonic. “Wish we had some limes…” he said looking down at the glasses he’d placed on the counter. A thin hand with a lime in it slid into his vision and hovered above the cups. It was Jackson. “Oh!? Hey, thanks! But, how did you? ...” and he proceeded to cut the lime up, but the how didn’t really matter so much as the drink he was about to imbibe. He hadn’t had to take care of himself for years until recently, and it honestly felt good to do. Not that someone magicking a lime for Him wasn’t a pleasant surprise.

He made the drinks and topped them off with some ice and handed out the round.

“well, Jon said, first things first, I think we’d better tackle that book. And second, I need to get a handle on the layout of the constellations around here. I know I was never particularly practiced at it in the first place, but now’s a good place to start.”

“Tomorrow, I think would be best. For tonight we should rest. It’s been a long evening.” Even as Sen said it, Jon could feel it as well. The events caught up to him all at once as he realized how long of a day it had been. He hadn’t physically excerpted himself much, but in a very short span of time, he’d cast a lot very heavy magic. He was starting to feel it, and could tell the next day was going to hit him like a hammer.

By the time Jon had handed Sen his drink he’d already changed into pajama bottoms. “You’re right. It’s been a long day. And Jackson probably needs more rest than either of us anyway.”

“Not really. It is good for him to rest to maintain his vessel, but familiars don’t need sleep. I’m not really sure if he’ll even age at this point. Even if he allows his body to sleep, he will remain alert, able to move his body around. You’ll never know the difference. He might even be sleeping now.” Jon looked at Jackson, who held his adult beverage like a pro, in spite of only being 19ish. He was sipping the drink looking around the room with a bemused look. He probably had never been in such a nice place. “Besides, you may not feel it quite yet, but doing so much high-level magic, for someone as new at practicing as you is sure to have taken a lot out of you. You’re going to feel it.

The idea of a sleepwalking sidekick was unnerving. “Hmmmm…” He grimaced. Jackson didn’t notice. Sen didn’t seem to mind. And Sen was right about it taking it out of him.

“Well, if it bothers you, you can command him to rest.” He said, smiling slightly. “But if I were you, I’d hit the bed as soon as possible. You look awful.

“He can do as he pleases. But the latter was definitely a good idea.”

“Be careful saying things like that about your familiars. What pleases them will likely not always please you.” Jon realized the gravity of the warning.

“Ohhh ... Gotcha. So,” Jon thought for a moment. “how is it you know so much about contracts and bindings?

“Well, you already know my order presides over Qi knowledge- energy flow. Spirit is energy. It’s Qi. All magic contracts are made between two or more spiritual beings, it’s a subject that deals heavily with qi flow and power balances. It falls under the jurisdiction of my order. So, as the head of my order, it’s my duty to be the ultimate authority on the subject.”

“Ooooh…” Jon gave a smart-aleck expression. “Well okay then, Mr. Ultimate Authority. I think I’m going to bed.” He chuckled, and Sen smiled, humoring Jon. Drink in hand, Jon walked to the enormous closed and discovered there to be a section for him, perfectly suited to his tastes in clothes. How would that woman have known that? He found a pair of linen pajama pants to change into. These robes were too… just not to his liking.

That was better. The far wall in the bedroom was made of several large panels of glass, with French doors in the middle, leading onto a balcony at the edge of a hill that Jon hadn’t noticed on their walk down. He wondered if Elizabeth had known they’d require seclusion for their tasks. Or maybe it was just standard whenever visiting wizards came to the compound.

Jon walked outside. The breeze was cooling down some, but was still very comfortable. There was a sitting area on the balcony as well as sunning beds. This was great. It was huge. The doorbell rang. “Room service!”

“Did you order room service?” Jon asked.

“No, I didn’t said Sen.”

Jackson opened the door. “Oh no …” Jon started. Too late.

“Hey thanks, please put it on the room tab. … does that include a gratuity?”

Jon could hear Jackson, but not the delivery boy.

The door closed. “Come eat!”

Jon was perplexed. In the living room, Jackson had already created a massive spread on the coffee table with food.

“I thought familiars didn’t need to eat.”

“Do you want me to look like a ghoul?” Jackson said digging in to some lo mein with a pair of chopsticks.

“As he is, he probably won’t age or die, so long as you’re alive, but it is still good if he takes care of his body.” Sen said as he walked into the living room and sat down to the meal, inserting himself into the conversation. “The spirit doesn’t need care, but the vessel will do better if it’s tended to.”

“Oh, I see.” Jon said as the remainder of the panic from the moment before left his body. “I though … Hey, do you feel hungry?” He said turning to Jackson.

“No, I just knew I needed to eat. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel hunger again.

“Probably not,” said Sen between bites of general tso’s chicken. “This in not real Chinese food.” He grimaced, but continued to eat.

“Wait, then are you even able to get drunk? Did I just waste perfectly good gin on someone who can’t even experience the effects of alcohol?” He felt oddly deceived.

“I think it’s a matter of wanting to for someone like Jackson.” Sen said for the boy, whose mouth was currently full of wonton. “Familiars have the ability to dissociate themselves more readily than people do from their vessels. If he wants to feel what’s happening to his body, he can, if not, he won’t. I’ve never been able to get a familiar to explain it any better than that to me.” He looked at Jon for a moment. “You should eat too, before you go to bed. After all the energy you spent today, you’ll be sick tomorrow if you don’t. Though I can’t guarantee results with this stuff anyway.” He was eyeing his chicken with haughty suspicion.

Jon chuckled and sat down, accepting the explanation, but keeping the gin close by, in case Jackson tried to take any more. He proceeded to get very drunk and full.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 10: How to Read a Book

 

When Jon awoke, it was to something sharp pinching his earlobe. “Ow,” he rose suddenly, his beautiful white bird flustered across to perch on the entertainment console in front of his bed. The t.v. was on, playing quietly in the other room, presumably where Jackson had been stationed all night, not sleeping, or perhaps sleeping but still functioning. Creepy.

He looked over at the bed next to his. Sen had already risen, and in fact was sitting outside on the balcony in swim shorts drinking tea, and reading something that Jon almost mistook for a newspaper. It was a scroll.

As he tried to collect his thoughts to form questions and orient himself, the sudden jolt of sitting up hit him and his hangover kicked in full force.

He jumped in the shower and when he came out, there was a plate of sliced fruit, croissants, and fresh coffee at the bar area. He plated up some mango, grabbed a croissant and poured himself a very large mug of coffee, still feeling sick. He proceeded to the balcony with his food, still in a towel. His sense of propriety had shifted in the last several years.

“Good morning” Sen said after sipping from his cup.

“Mmmm.” Was all Jon was prepared to say. He felt like death. He suspected it wasn’t just from the liquor either. It was a very draining thing to do a binding, and similarly so a contract, and he’d done both with less than an hour between.

“You should rest today.” Sen looked at Jon over his glasses. You don’t look good.

“Hmm” Jon half chuckled half frowned. The bouncing of his chest was jarring. His head was pounding. “S’pose you’re right.” He said suddenly clutching his head at his temples. “I feel like I’ve been run over by an army tank.”

“Well, saying you over did it would be something of an understatement.” You’re lucky. You’re stronger than you know.

Ugh, with that again. “Hey, something’s been bugging me.” Time for a subject change. “I’ve thought this for a long time, but never really voiced it. I guess I just assumed that it was the way things worked. Until seeing Elizabeth, I’ve never seen a sorceress. Is she like, an anomaly?”

“No, but for reasons that aren’t very clear, women tend to be weak casters. Most live as witches, and contract with powerful familiars, or group up in covens for protection and power.” Sen looked a bit dark.

“So then, for a woman to be powerful enough to head a household, Elizabeth must be an exceptionally powerful witch.” Jon mused aloud.

“Whatever you do, never call her that.” Sen gave Jon the look he usually did when correcting him on magical properties and misinformation. “She is known as the Great Enchantress, and by some the Sorceress Sage, but no one, ever, calls her a witch.” His tone was strange. He sounded as though Jon and insulted him personally.

“Whoa, sorry. I didn’t know. Why not?” Jon’s ignorance to magical society outside his chateau was frustrating even to him. Asceticism had some real drawbacks, the chief of which was social detachment. And none of his order that resided or visited the castle had been women.

“Well, the term ‘witch’ is typically derogatory, referring to the types of women I just mentioned. Technically, yes, she is a witch, but it’s falls near the realm of misnomer to label her as such. She is one of the worlds more gifted healers and craft weavers.” He seemed to beam with pride at the thought. “She has surpassed all her contemporaries in her craft, in both skill and benevolence.”

“So. Are you saying all witches are bad?”

“They are the w****s of demons. It’s a detestible thing to sell yourself into service to a demon. Nearly all witches do it, if they want to survive anyway.” Sen sounded calm and clinical but Jon sensed a lurking menace beneath his tone. He decided to drop the subject.

“So,” he sipped his coffee, “what are you reading?”

“It’s a star chart, which syncs up with ley lines both here on earth as well as in space. I figured while you’re resting, we could still get in some studying.” He was dedicated to the cause, not doubt about that. Jon felt a surge of gratitude.

Jon smirked. “Okay, as soon as breakfast is over, run through it with me. Do you have any other scrolls?

Over the next several days, they became deeply invested their studies. For the first time, Jon, whose jurisdiction this actually was, didn’t feel at a lack of knowledge in front of his colleague. Though he truly hadn’t studied enough to satisfy himself, his knowledge had surprised Senfeng, who assured him he hadn’t know any wizards for centuries who’d been so knowledgeable. That was very reassuring, but in a limited way, since any wizards who Senfeng would have encountered would not have been able to divulge any deep secrets of the art. That right rested with Jon alone. And he was sharing whatever he needed to with Sen to make progress. He’d grown to trust him irrevocably in the fairly short time they’d been traveling together.

Now a member of Jon’s household, which would have been inevitable even if he’d survived his circumstances in a normal way, Jackson was constantly with them, learning as quickly as he could. Jon hadn’t had a pupil before. He’d only ever given advice or explained lofty principles of seeing to members of his order. Now, he had someone under his tutelage. It made the gravity of his position more real to him. He was literally responsible for all the knowledge of the seers. And this seer/spirit, was especially important, since he was his personal familiar.

Though a familiar, he’d never experienced existence as an esper except for a brief moment of time. So, he had no idea what sort of power he really had, aside from what he’d learned from being the beneficiary of a contract. Jon had instructed the Trickster, whom he had determined to rename once he had the time, to teach him about his abilities as a familiar and a spirit. Jon also discovered that, though he didn’t like to, the Trickster could speak. So, conversation with him became more common, and giving him commands was more comfortable, knowing his communication went beyond translation through a vessel and was readily understood.

It did feel odd, being in a social group of four instead of two or three, but it was also much more comical now. The Trickster, though changed in nature, was still tricky, and enjoyed practical jokes, which it played often on Jackson, all in the name of education of course. One afternoon, after watching the trickster deceive Jackson into doing a bit of small magic that backfired humorously, leaving his body covered in green pustules, Jon was struck with a question. There were always so many questions.

“Sen, it is true, isn’t it? That a spirit can never lie? If that’s true, then how can the trickster ever have existed in the first place?” Jon had been racking his brain over the question for days and wanted a second opinion to the hypothesis he had been forming. “Is there a way to lie without lying?”

“Your question is ill worded.” Sen replied generously. He was always nice to Jon, but sometimes his direct manner of discussion was off-putting. Jon knew he meant well though and chalked it up as a consequence of longevity. Old man don’t give a s**t. Apparently. “A spirit can technically lie, but discernment and the ability to see truth dispel that power. But deception and lying aren’t exactly the same. Trickery, a form of deception, uses apparent truth to mask intent or actuality, or at least intent other than what is being directly presented. It’s a form of manipulation, which for its purpose, is better than lying.”

Jon understood. He had wondered if it was something like that. “Okay, so then, the Trickster wasn’t necessarily bad.”

“Wrong again, deception used for selfish gain is wrong and violates universal moral laws. The nature of that kind of deception is rooted in wickedness.”

“But how can that be,” Jon said, watching Jackson throwing minor Jinxes at Trickster. “when the trickster has been fundamentally changed, yet still plainly deceives others for entertainment?” Jon motioned like Vanna White toward the sitting area beyond the balcony, which is where he and Sen spent nearly all their time now.

“Again, your perception is slightly askew.” What you see isn’t selfish motivation in the Trickster. If you pay close attention to what the two have been doing, the trickster has only pranked Jackson in equal ratio to incorrect responses Jackson gives when the Trickster or you instruct him. It’s a system of punishments and rewards. It’s also served to endear Jackson to him, by relating to him in a way that relieves the tension of their negative history. He’s behaving in a similar fashion with ultimately harmless results in order to dissociate their present from their past. He’s weaning Jackson from his perception of who the Trickster used to be.”

“Oh my God you’re right. That crazy bird really thought that deeply about this?” Jon whistled, feeling struck by the thoroughness of it. He was also surprised Senfeng had teased all that out just by observation, though it seemed plain enough once explained. Most truth does though. “I just thought he was having trouble letting go of old habits.” He laughed.

“There may be an element of that in it as well, but the root of his intentions are no longer malicious. Your binding him changed that, transforming him completely into a reordered spirit. You cleansed him.” Jon felt dumbstruck by the thought.

“Huh. Okay then.”

“And don’t forget. The Trickster is a very old spirit. Even I don’t know his origin. For thousands of years, he’s been deceiving others, It’s taken this long for someone to outdo him. Don’t underestimate his intelligence. You might even think of him as the embodiment of cunning. He is the fox, the Coyote, the Rabbit, the Snake and the Crow.” He isn’t intelligent. He is intelligence personified. There has hardly been a greater ally you could ask for. Not even I am a match for that spirit.”

Jon felt the gravity of his position now. “But you defeated him.”

“No, I broke a spell he didn’t expect me understand, which gave you the opportunity you needed to bind him.” It wouldn’t have worked if we hadn’t beat him at his own game. That’s how bindings work. You must prove yourself stronger than the one you overcome.” He looked firmly at Jon.

“But then, shouldn’t he be your familiar and not mine, since you were the one who surprised him.” He thought for a moment. Sen didn’t respond. Jon knew why. It had been Jon’s plan, and besides, Jon had been the one to do the actual binding. He hadn’t been sure if it would work, but without knowing he was doing it, his trust in his friend enabled him to deceive the demon and capture him. “Hmmm. I get it.”

“Good.” Only you could ever be the master over a spirit like him.

“You keep saying things like that, but you’re way more powerful, and wayyyy wiser.”

“No, I’m just ‘wayyyy’ older.” Sen said, making quotations around the word with his fingers. You will have to accept at some point that it is your destiny to become the wisest of all Sages. In time, the world will look to you for wisdom. That is your office. In truth, you are the Oracle of the world.

Sen’s words seemed too full of gravitas to be true. Even though he was proving to be prodigious at his craft, that statement was too encompassing and too grand to be ascribed to Jon’s destiny. “Hmmm, whatever you say.” Jon said trying to diffuse the weight in the atmosphere.

“Well, like it or not, it’s true.” It’s also true that there has never been a seer with such latent power, nor a mage able to appropriate two familiars in a single evening, whatever the reason. Most mages never have more than one familiar at a time to begin with.”

Jon considered the statement, and decided to shelf it, for further consideration when he was alone. After a moment, he said, “I’ve been wondering, have you ever kept a familiar?”

“I keep one, yes.”

“Only one? But you’re so powerful. Couldn’t you keep more? If you wanted?” Jon was hoping not to sound impertinent or crass.

“The one I have is more than enough for me to handle.” Sen smiled a little when he said it.

“But why isn’t it ever with you?” Jon was growing more curious about his mysterious friend. Sen never offered information about himself. It was frustrating, since, having been the sworn protector of the Saits, Sen knew virtually everything about Jon a person could.

“But you’ve already met him,” Sen smiled serenely. “Though not in true form or name.”

“What do you m- ahhhhh….” Jon sighed with comprehension. “Old man Zhao! That’s your familiar?! Jon chuckled. Well, I can see why you’d say he’s a handful.” Jon remembered the several years in which he rented an apartment next to the old man. He had not enjoyed his kind of neighborliness. “So, what’s his true form?”

“He is by nature a guardian spirit. He prefers to take the form of a dragon. However, circumstances have required him to stay in disguise for a very long time, until now that is. Even now, he is hidden in plain sight.” Senfeng looked out and smiled.

Jon recalled something Jackson had said previously. “So then, you were able to observe me through him by projecting your consciousness? That’s how you kept an eye on me?”

“At times yes, though that was rarely necessary. He’s a good field agent, and always reported anything strange. For a being as powerful as him to need to rush you to my home was startling to say the least. It could only have meant that a force able to overpower him was on your heals. I don’t know what you know of dragons, but that would have to have been an incredible force.” As Senfeng spoke he put his hair into a bun and took a final sip of his coffee, rising. “I think I want to take a swim, want to come? It’s already been a long day, and the sun still feels good. The group, like most of the rest of the resort guests, had come to basically live in swimwear. It was that kind of place.

“Sorry, I just have one more question. Uh, how long have you been watching over my family?” Jon was very curious about how deep their family ties went.

“I suppose you had to know this eventually.” He stood for a moment, considering Jon. “Well, shortly after I became the head of my order. One of your ancestors approached me. They had narrowly escaped betrayal at the hands of a warlock in his household. To protect the line, he came to me, an outsider. At that time, they began to pass on the grimoire, not trusting advisors with its content, since it had been an advisor who had staged the betrayal. I swore an oath back then. I became the first human familiar in history, the head of one household, the servant of another. Though, my service is not to a man, but to the order itself. I am the familiar of the Order of the Seers. This means, that whoever is rightful head of the household, is my master, though that has limits. There are still laws which inhibit me. One master cannot intervene in the affairs of another order. For this to be possible, I myself had to be reordered using incredibly powerful creation magic. It took incredible sacrifice to make this possible.” He finished his sentence with the finality that Jon had come to learn meant the discussion was over. There was still just so much to learn about all this. It was much more complicated than he had expected.

#

Later, while down at the pool, Jon was laying back in a floating lounge chair, slugging on a rum and coke, deep in thought about the conversation he’d had with Senfeng. The exchange had been highly revelatory, though something was still nagging him. He just couldn’t place it. He stewed over everything he knew about the man. He His thoughts drifted to their first meeting. There it was! Suddenly Jon remembered the most important thing. How he hadn’t thought of it in the last five years, he could not grasp. It was literally right in front of all of them! Even Sen! ARGH!!! It was literally so stupidly simple!

He rolled off the floaty, disrupting two pretty girls near him, incurring rude remarks about him and feminine hygiene products. He didn’t even care that he had spilled half his drink, though he was sure not to waste the rest. He marched to the edge of the pool. And climbed out. “I’m going back to the room. I’ll see you guys in a bit. Stay here and enjoy yourselves. He said to Jackson and Senfeng.

He forwent grabbing a towel, choosing to retain his beverage and risk slipping on the tile along the way. By the time he reached his room, his drink was gone and so was his patience. He’d practically ran the last leg of the hall. He pulled out his keycard and stocked across the room to his bag where he kept his grimoire. Pulling it out, he sat absentmindedly on the bed, soaking it with his swim briefs. This was the moment he’d striven for years to arrive at. He closed his eyes.

As he entered into a trance state, his hands wrapped around the book. He could see it in his mind’s eye. He turned it over and over in his hands. It was good that he had grown adept at looking into the past, sensing memories. This was different though, he was looking at the memories of an object and not a person. Everything felt more concrete, not fluid like a thought, but tangible and unmoving, more like a recording. Though it was easier in some ways, it was also less familiar, making him feel unsteady. He felt years of darkness. Years and years. But there were also periods of profound use, though not by the rightful hands. It didn’t make sense. And then there it was. The change. It wasn’t like seeing a memory from a person, that was connected to senses. It was like understanding the identity of object and place, of soul. As it turned out, this book had a soul, but one very different from a person’s. There was a sense of violation, without emotion. It was a terrible injustice. Then reorder. Something was new. Something was different. Jon could not see what was before that event. This was the first memory recorded on this grimoire. But that didn’t make sense. If that were true, he had been able to trace the memory back through its creation, to the animals the vellum pages first belonged to. He should have been able to sense the hands penning the mysteries of his Order’s arts on the pages. But there was none of that.

As he though this however, something else did come to mind. A type of inscribing. The writing currently in the pages. He was experiencing the weaving of the enchantment. This was creation magic. It was reordering the book. The meaning was the same, but it was given a new form. Why was this? The casting felt familiar to him. The hand on the book was known to him. But something was unexpected. It wasn’t Dan, as Jon had expected. It was Talbot. Of course it was. Talbot was an alchemist. It made sense he would have understanding of creation magic.

There was something else though. He felt the violation. It had gone against nature, but not destructively. He felt it, it wasn’t so much a violation in the way he had thought. It still felt like a terrible injustice, but the reordering, wasn’t malicious in intent. Jon hadn’t realized you could discern intent in a casting. This was good to know. The terrible thing he sensed was terror. Talbot had done it in fear. When? Why? It had been such a long time ago. Jon understood when it had been done. He’d arrived at his answer. And having known the book, he no longer needed to read it. Its contents had made themselves plain to him. He understood their pages, though they had been scrambled, and rewritten in a language all their own. Naturally, the language had changed. It had to be something completely new, or it could have been unlocked. Jon hadn’t known that until now, he would have been able to unlock its secrets.  He didn’t have the knowledge or grasp on his own power to do so until recently. For this to be done, it required a magician of the highest skill in his order, of which there were only two, Talbot and himself. Jon was applauding Talbot for his faith in the line of Sait. He surmised that Talbot had done it with the hope that the true Lord Seer would be able to do a reading and understand the book with all its contents. He could only assume he hadn’t told him because it would be dangerous to do so openly. That was enough to give him confidence that Talbot wasn’t a traitor. The though gave him a stab of fear. He could only hope the skryer hadn’t been trapped in the castle when the trap went off, assuming it did.

Regardless, he had got what he wanted. He’d unlocked the book. And with that, he’d come out of his trance. It was dark outside. And he was sitting at the edge of the bed where he’d opened the book earlier that afternoon. The Trickster was watching him side-eyed. It crowed and the other two entered from the other room. Jon knew they’d been keeping watch over him. When did he get back to the room? Had he been so long entranced?

“Jon, you should be more careful,” Sen said, sitting bedside. If Trickster hadn’t comeback in shortly after you’d gone into that trance, you would have been left unprotected.”

“It was worth it.” Jon stood up. His back and legs ached. His right foot was asleep. He absentminded leaned against the bed and rubbed it as he spoke. “I’ve done it.”

Sen eyed him uncertainly. “Done what?”

“Remember our first meeting? You told me that seers have powers beyond visions of the future and past and fortunes if they know enough to understand.” Jon licked his lips he was parched. How long had he been sitting there? “You said we could gain deeper understanding, even of the objects around us.” Well, I’ve only just remembered that. And that’s exactly what I did! I know what’s in the book, and I know who changed it, and even a bit of why. But there’s still so many questions.” Jon began pacing, mostly to walk off the prickling in his foot, which was expanding up his leg instead of going away like it should. “And oh my God I’m so hungry!” He was suddenly overcome with fatigue.

“Jon, you’ve been sitting like that since yesterday.” Senfeng said cutting across Jon’s flow of though.

“Huh?” Jon looked at Senfeng like he was crazy, who was returning a similar look.

Senfeng sighed. “The Trickster sent us a message when he found you like this yesterday afternoon.” We’ve been here waiting for you to come round. We weren’t sure what had happened. We thought maybe the text had a curse on it you’d tapped into.”

Jon felt a mix of gratitude, and embarrassment. “Oh.. umm. I’m okay.” he looked out the window, unsure of what to say. “Thank you.” He hadn’t realized it would take that long to acquire what he needed. And it had only felt like a couple of hours at most. But when he broke it apart, he had sifted through over a hundred years of information, and committed the fundamentals of the entire content of the book to memory. “Jon looked at Senfeng, and grinned sheepishly, then fell to the floor, passed out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 11: Missing a Friend

 

He woke the next morning to both the Trickster and Jackson watching him from the end of the bed. They both appeared calm. But it was still creepy.  Jackson had been an orphan, so in a close group environment, he wasn’t exactly normal, having never been close enough to other people to properly integrate. He hadn’t been raised in a home. He’d been a runaway. Consequentially, Jon had been trying to accept Jacksons strange interactions for some time now. But they weren’t the only ones near his bed.

Elizabeth was sitting at his left side, on the edge of the bed. She was hovering over him, with her hand like a sentinel. He felt a strange sensation on him wherever her hand hovered. He’d seen this in action. He knew she was doing healing magic.

“You had us a little worried there. You should be more careful.” She admonished him, with a serious yet kind look on her face. Like Sen, she also seemed sweet. But unlike Senfeng, she seemed much more willing to drop the act.

Jon smiled. “Thank you for your help.” He tried to sit up. She put a very large hand on his chest and pressed him back down onto the bed. “No. You are to lie back and not move for a while. Using magic that deep is dangerous when you haven’t exercised it enough. You need more practice, with simple things. “Senfeng told me enough of what happened to know how to treat you.” If you are going to practice arts at such a high level consistently, you need to prepare your body as well as your mind and spirit for it. If you don’t, it could rip you apart from the strain.”

Jon got a visual in his mind. “Ugh, literally?” he grimaced in revulsion.

“In some cases, yes,” she shook her head sternly.

“Believer her, she’s seen it.” Senfeng had entered the room, fully dressed for the first time in weeks, though a sheer linen button down didn’t seem to really count. His shorts were white and hung mid-thigh, exaggerating his tan and testifying to the amount of time they’d all been out in the sun. Sen hadn’t heard his flipflops, and realized he was wearing deck shoes. The overall effect was agreeable on him. He looked like an all-American Hipster, though erring on the yuppy side.

Jon noticed Elizabeth as well. She wasn’t wearing the usual white polo and khakis she and her staff normally donned in public. She was in a tunic that wrapped her like a sarong. It accented her stature, but was comely on her. In it she took on the likeness of a statue of a goddess. Jon had been so taken up by her general largeness that he’d missed how pretty she was. It was a strong kind of beauty, but still feminine. It suited her. If he’d been more ignorant, he might just have taken her for divine.

With a “Hm.” She smirked in a satisfied manner and rose. Without thinking Jon tried to rise again. She rounded quickly and pointed at his face, her finger inches away from his nose. “Stay.” She said with force that seemed to bear more than verbal impact. Jon lied back down and clasped his hands over his chest, succumbing to his temporary immobility. It felt a bit like being on the embalmed end of a funeral viewing. There were people standing around him staring at him blankly.

“Don’t let him rise for the rest of the day. The bindings I placed with take time to settle in if he wants to heal properly.” He could see her conversing with Sen. Had the situation been that serious? He hadn’t felt terrible when he woke up the night before. None the less, Jon felt sure he understood her meaning when she spoke of bindings. She had spiritually sutured parts of his soul to his body. It was like she said. He had nearly ripped himself apart.

“Hey…. Heyyyyyy…. HEYYYYYY…… HEYYYYEEEE!!” The two looked down at him nonplussed. “I’m hungry.” Senfeng

 chuckled and sent Jackson to get some food.

“Something that can be liquefied. He can’t rise to chew his food.” Sen smirked at his friend. “and no Chinese!”

Jon smiled. “Gross.” Things were crappy at the moment, but he’d done it. He’d opened up the grimoire to himself. He was now truly the master of his craft.

After a bizarre tasting blended meal, Jon let himself fall asleep again. He couldn’t move around anyway. His dreams were strange. He heard voices coming from all around him. They were calling out to him. It felt eerie. He saw wisps of silver light as he walked through darkness. Faces came before him and spoke in French and something very old yet familiar. What was that language. Finally, he came to a wall that seemed to be made of water. There was a strange blue light beyond the surface. If only he could see into it … He’d understand so much …

Jon woke up feeling clammy. His sheet clung to him. The sun was beginning to rise. Good, it was okay for him to move around now. As he rose, he felt a strange pain in his stomach and right foot. The prickling that he’d felt before. So that wasn’t his foot having fallen asleep huh? Well, good thing Elizabeth had been available. She’d really saved him. He got up and felt sick. He rushed to the bathroom and felt to the floor, just making it to the toilet to upchuck from the pain in his stomach. It hurt like hell, but he felt certain what she had done had worked. He was hoping he hadn’t woken anyone else up with his heaving. He flushed and stood up. He walked to the mirror. He was naked and looked like hell. Dark circles traced his eyes, and his long blond hair looked like it belonged to a crack w***e. He also needed to trim his beard. He looked at his fingernails. Yeah, he looked like a naked hobo. He sniffed his armpit. Gross. Yep. He stank like one too.

After a good long shower, he put some clothes on. Sen was stirring at this point. Usually, Sen was always the first one up. It was strange seeing his morning ritual. Senfeng was usually up before Jon. He stretched slowly, and immediately collected his hair into a loose ponytail, looking cool. He stood and walked over to the perpetually open balcony door. It was a beautiful morning. Jon Looked at his friend with new respect and thankfulness. Sen hadn’t noticed Jon was awake. Sen had tied his blanked in a tangled knot about his waste for modesty, though was otherwise naked, as his custom was to sleep in the buff.  Jon coughed to get Sen’s attention. He turned, stretching slowly. He was clearly a morning person. “Mmmmmmmmorning,” he said transforming his yawn into a cheesy smile.

Jon who was not typically a morning person, but today was thankful to be alive, in spite of hurting everywhere, smiled back. “Good morning.” Said Jon. They made coffee and everyone went down to the café for breakfast.  Jon was feeling stir crazy and needed to get out of the room. Being outside felt really good. After a good meal, they took a walk up to the hot springs for a dip. Sen felt it would be good exercise for Jon without being too strenuous. He was right, and the water felt great, though the day was unusually warm and the hot sulfuric water wasn’t refreshing. The walk was good though. And once they were out of the water the air on Jon’s wet skin felt nice.

As they walked back, Jon strolled next to Sen. “We need to talk when we get back. There’s a lot I’ve learned.” He said it secretively, but unsure why.

“Are you sure you’re feeling up to it yet? You nearly died the other day. I don’t want to risk any relapses.” Senfeng was being his usual casual and happy self, but by now Jon had learned to read between the lines and discerned his worry.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. I really do feel much better.” Jon paused thinking. “Besides, we won’t be needing to do any magic for the rest of the day at least.” He shifted uncomfortable as he walked. “To be honest. Part of the problem is that now that I have some answers, its opened me up to even more questions. I need another head to put some things together. And frankly, I have some things I need to ask you privately.”

Sen looked at Jon in amusement. Jon felt unsettled and out of line. “Well, it is time you started treating me like an equal and not a superior I think. We’re colleagues.” Sen said. He waited for a moment for a response. “I know it must be hard. You’re still very new to most of this. In terms of longevity, by wizarding standards, you’re still in your infancy. What I am trying to help you see is that even in that state, you have already memorized nearly every book of your craft at the seat of your order, and have proven to be quick to master even the highest level weavings and casting …”

“You mean the order I potentially blew up along with the two most loyal friends I’ve ever had? And worse, its playing on loop. They’re doomed to experience that pain over and over and over again. Forever.” The gravity of his actions had finally surfaced. Since he’d made his recent discovery, he’d been fighting off that very thought.

“You did it for the right reasons. And they betrayed y-“

“But they didn’t! Not Talbot anyway!” Jon threw his hands up. He felt drunk. That’s part of what I’ve been wanting to tell you. Talbot made the changes to the book.” Jon was crying without reservation. The self-pity felt good. “He was trying to protect the line of Sait and its secrets.” And I killed him an infinite amount of times for it.” He was getting wound up. “And you know what that means right?!” He looked at his friend for a moment. “It means I had to have been wrong about Dan. I thought the way things went in your parlor were proof that he had to have been the one to betray me.”

Sen held up his hand, preventing a further onslaught of tears and verbal waste. “Jon, it may be true that you were wrong about some of the things. But remember, you put a warning in place to protect Talbot if he was really innocent.” He looked at Jon hard and sternly. It made him feel insignificant and weak. Now, I know you cared for Dan, but something bothered me about him, and when you spoke of his betrayal, there was truth in it. I’ve been around seers for centuries, and you learn recognize when a seer is experiencing intuition based on clouded insight. I believe that to be the case here. I can’t give you definitive evidence on it. But you need to trust your intuition, your sense of knowing. It will not betray you. There is no one who has sight truer than yours. If you cannot trust that, you will not grow.

Jon was stupified. He was trying to grip and accept what Senfeng was saying, but it seemed inaccessible, impossible even. He wanted it to be true, but he felt like it was a weak escape from his guilt. Had their entire journey been a farce?

“Jon, you must remember when we were running that first day. Remember the admonitions the Ogress gave us. Someone betrayed you. And you said yourself there were only two who may have been able to. And if you are absolutely certain it could not have been Talbot, then that only leaves one. Daniel has betrayed you.” He spoke with finality, and immediately changed the subject. “Now get a grip. We’re out in the open.”

Jon had forgot to be careful. Did it even matter? He silenced himself just in case. The rest of the walk was in silence, with Jackson hanging especially far back, not wanting to get involved. This had all been news to him. Not that it really mattered. So long as Jon was able to survive keep his familiars a secret, Jackson and Trickster would be safe.

Once back at the room. Sen locked the door and placed a do not disturb sign outside it. He asked Jon to order Jackson to guard the door and the Trickster to guard the window.

“Now,” he said, settling down on the couch while placing a set of stiff drinks between himself and Jon. “we are in a safe place here, and there’s no one around, so you can feel free to speak openly about anything you need.” He took a drink. “But first. I’m sorry.”

Jon was very confused. The situation should have been the other way around. Sen had been right about everything so far. There were just so many variables that couldn’t be accounted for… “For what?” he asked, genuinely unsure of Sen’s reasoning.

“I should have sat down with you over this immediately. I let other things cloud my judgement. Though I knew the implications of your suspicions, I hadn’t considered the impact it might be having on you. Not fully at least.” He put his hand on Jon’s drinking arm. “I’m very sorry Jon. My motivations were right, but my methods were very flawed. I think I’ve done more harm than good.”

Jon sighed long and deep, looking up at the ceiling. “If I have to, I’ll accept your apology. But honestly, you haven’t done anything to apologize for.” I’ve been impatient about all this, and it nearly even killed me. That was my own fault. All you three have done is try to keep me alive. I literally almost strained myself to death at a health retreat spa!” Jon laughed at the irony of it. He thought he heard Jackson chuckling as well in the other room, but the sound quickly transformed into a cough.

“God, I need to grow up.” Jon said taking another drink and sighing deeply.

“Well, now that’s all out of the way,” Senfeng said, let’s get down to it.”

“Right, Jon looked at his friend squarely. There are several things that are incredibly important. Firstly, which I already told you. Talbot has not betrayed me. When I was performing the reading on the book the other day, I felt his presence. I knew it was his magic changing the book. We were right, the book was altered. It was creation magic, which makes sense thinking about it, since Talbot is an alchemist, who specializes in transformations.”

Sen nodded, listening with intensity.

“I also felt his intent in his magic. It was to prevent betrayal. He was feeling terror at the time he performed the magic.” Did you know magic was imbued with intent and feeling?”

Again, Senfeng nodded. “Yes, the effectiveness and nature of the enchantment or spell depends on those two things, depending on the spell, as well as the strength of the cast. In most cases, the intent is the most important part, this latter is more important for barriers and protective spells and conversely spells meant to disenchant and unravel. It also matters with spells required to last for a long period of time. If the caster is weak, the magic breaks down more quickly, disintegrating back into the matrix of energy.”

Jon was relieved to have this confirmed by a voice outside his own head. It confirmed his suspicions. He continued. “Also when the creation magic was performed, during the reordering of the book, all previous memory held within the book of its creation was destroyed. There was no memory prior to that event. I couldn’t go further back.

“Mmm,” Sen didn’t nod this time, but was more encouraging Jon to continue.

The next thing may seem less important, but it was too strange to disregard. After the book was changed. It went through prolonged periods of darkness and lack of use, which I expected. But I didn’t expect it to be removed from darkness over and over again by the same hands, and I don’t mean by Talbot. The caster trying to use the book was attempting to unlock the pages. It seems they were the person who Talbot was trying to protect the book from.” Jon looked at Sen. “I think we need to find Talbot, to know if he is still alive. If he is, I think he can help us.” Jon felt a sudden certainty. There was a rightness in what he’d just said.

“Yes, we both need to speak with him I think…” Jon was concerned about Sen’s ominous tone. “Please, continue” Sen encouraged as he took another drink of liquor.

“Well,” he continued, “The night after I had done the reading, I had a strange dream, or dreams, I’m not sure. But In any case, there’s something you need to know. When Talbot, Dan and myself conducted my awakening ceremony, he was supposed to become the avatar for my ancestry to teach me through. Instead however, they rejected him, and said things had changed, and would have to teach me themselves. Then they…” Jon didn’t want to say it.

“They what, Jon?” Sen urged him.

“They…” He took a bracing breath. “They went inside me.” He looked at Sen for a reaction. Nothing. “and they haven’t left.”

“Jon, you really should have told me that sooner. This changes many things. Senfeng looked urgent.

“But they’ve been silent. That was two years ago, and I’ve heard nothing from them.” He paused again, still afraid to discuss it. “until I had that dream.”

“Tell me the dream.” There was no veneer to Senfeng’s attitude. He was all business right now. This had to be very important.

“I was in a dark void, like when I do a reading. But I started seeing silver smoky light circle around me. It was the same as the night of the séance. Then I saw them, or their faces anyway. And I was walking. I walked through the void until I came to a wall of water. It was like the surface of a pond or pool, but vertical. And there was a faint blue light. I felt like there was knowledge on the other side. I felt like I needed to go to it. Then I woke up.”

Jon looked at Senfeng. His gaze was the most intense he’d seen. It disturbed Jon. Sen said nothing. Jon waited. And waited longer.

Senfeng sat back. He’d been so intent on the story he had got right in Jon’s person space, which partially contributed to Jon’s current state of unease. Jon relaxed a little too. Sen looked toward the window wall for a long moment, sipping his drink.

Jon waited, fearful. He had no idea what kind of omen it was, other than the time had come to be trained by his ancestors.

“And you said you unlocked the secrets of the book?” Sen said shortly, not moving his gaze from the window.

“Yes, I have it nearly perfectly memorized. I could even write in the strange language if I needed.”

“You may yet need to.”

Jon felt he understood his meaning in what he said. “I think that my ancestors were trying to tell me it’s time to train me. I think I should spend more time in meditation.”

“No.” Sen was serious. “Do not meditate. That is the absolute last thing you should be doing.”

“Wah-why not?” Jon was startled at Sen’s abrubt and forceful reaction.

“You know what is hunting us. There is an incredibly powerful necromancer inches behind us. If this place weren’t so safe, we might have faced him down by this point. And we would have lost, considering the state we’re in, I might ad.” Jon was unsure why Sen was bringing this up now.

“Then isn’t that all the more reason I should be practicing the arts more? Elizabeth even said that I needed to exercise my gifting more if I am to be able to safely perform high level magic. And I can hardly imagine a palm reading will solve our problems.” Jon hesitated. “Besides, I want to fulfill my promise to you. I want to find out who is going to try to kill you…”

Senfeng seemed to let go of his sternness. He let out a long breath. “Jon, I believe the necromancer is setting a trap for you. I think your dream was not about your ancestors guiding you. They were trying to warn you. They circled you to keep you from going deeper into the void. That water’s edge. I’ve heard others describe it. Others that went into it. It isn’t wisdom on the other side, Jon.”

“How do you know all this?” Jon felt there was important information Senfeng wasn’t telling him. “What aren’t you saying?”

“I need you to trust me on this. For the time being, you must not go into trances, and you must be careful.”

Jon was confused, and unconvinced. “I think I need an explanation.”

Jon, for now, the best evidence I can give for my case is the Laws of the Orders. The head of an order cannot use his craft for personal gain. If your dream were a vision, then it’s an impossible dream. Your craft wouldn’t allow it. That’s part of the binding of the heads of orders. It’s the Law of Limits.”

“I hadn’t considered that.” Jon felt his answers slipping away from him. “Then what do you think it means? Why would my ancestors remain silent for two years?”

“I think there are several reasons.”

“Oh? And what are those?” Jon asked pointedly.

“First, they’ve been protecting you.” Sen said.

Jon failed to see the merit in that thought. How could keeping him ignorant be a form of protection? He must have looked like he didn’t believe the answer given.

“Listen, you’ve experienced firsthand what can happen if your knowledge and abilities are not at the same levels. That’s very dangerous for wizards. And there may be reasons we don’t understand yet either. It seems they have access to information we don’t currently have ourselves. And for some reason, they deem it necessary to withhold it from us.” These aren’t stingy spirits. They’re the espers of the wisest men in the history of the world, Jon. You have to trust them.

Second, think about how the Trickster has been teaching Jackson. Does he come out and tell him he’s giving him a lesson. You may be being educated by these spirits and not even know it.” Senfeng seemed finished.

Jon knew he was probably right. But not knowing in their present situation was daunting, and terrifying at the same time. “So what else can you tell me?” Jon prodded.

“I’m sorry Jon, but if this is the actions of your ancestors, then I have to say that I can’t tell you anything more right now. If I could, they already would have. If you must practice anything, practice discerning truth what others say, and what you see. Learn to sense it, to know it.”

Jon’s thoughts about everything that’d happened were crumbling. He had though that dream meant something else. But he knew Senfeng was right. Again. What a pain in the neck this situation was becoming. It seemed he had far fewer answers than he’d thought. And now, he had proof Sen was keeping secrets from him. Important secrets. He couldn’t ignore his frustration.

“Aahhhrgh!” he growled as he stood up and kicked his chair over. He walked out of the room. He’d been working so hard, and now lifesaving answers were at his fingertips, and he was supposed to do nothing?! At least it seemed that walk earlier had restored his strength. He walked out of the room slamming the door. He was still in swim briefs, so he determined a swim made more sense than a walk. At the pool he drank heavily. He was tired of thinking. Where had it gotten him anyway. By the time he actually made it to the water, he was very intoxicated. Neither Sen nor his familiars had bothered showing up. Good. He was hoping they’d let him be for the time being. He needed to blow off steam.

He noticed a group of pretty girls at the other end of the pool. Simultaneously he drifted off in though, to the dream. He couldn’t stand to admit it, but Sen’s words felt right with the images that swirled in his alcohol influenced mind, and when he thought back, he got a grating feeling, like something didn’t fit or work with the dream in his previous assessment.

The girls suddenly got quiet and left the pool. He must have gone into a blind stare while he was still facing them. Oh well. He was too drunk to care. And he was struggling accepting what he knew was true. He was sick of his plans falling apart.

But when he really thought about it, this was good news. And he was still basically right. Dan had in fact betrayed them, and Talbot was good, and had even �" probably �" escaped. To make things easier, he didn’t need to spend more time in meditation, which would have been tiring and rigorous. Turned out he was already doing all the right things. He deserved a pat on the back.

As his pool floaty whirled about, he noticed a woman sitting in a lounge chair with a book. She was in a reading posture, but was looking at Jon, smiling. He smiled back, turning his raft towards her.

Jon was strolling down the hall feeling much better than he had several hours ago, each step felt like he had dropped a dozen bricks from his shoulders. When he got to the room, he felt for his pocket to reach for his key card, but realized he wasn’t wearing pants. A degree of frustration climbed back to the surface as he made a fist to knock at the door. At that moment, a hand that wasn’t his clapped his back. It was a pudgy hand. Jon was startled. He hadn’t heard anyone following him. He turned and looked at the face of a man who was already fairly stocky, and widening further with age wearing Bermuda shorts. It was Talbot.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 12: Meeting the Family

“No way.” Jon said without thinking. In his drunkenness, he tipped backwards and hit his head on the door with a heavy thud. He grappled awkwardly to stay standing before finding his footing again. He righted himself and hugged Talbot, laughing. He may have been crying too, but liquor and other things already had his eyes fairly red, so it would have been impossible to tell at that point.

Talbot was laughing as well. “Well hello there! He said in his comically sing-song fruity demeanor.” He held a drink that had an umbrella in it. Jon wanted to laugh again, but resisted. “Thanks for the message,” he said smiling, though his eyes gave a different expression. “I think we should go have a chat, don’t you think?”

“That, is an excellent idea.” Jon suddenly felt three drinks more sober. “I’ve got a lot of questions for you.” Jon tried to sound stern, but slurred the “s” as he spoke, apparently less sober than he thought.  The door opened and Jackson was standing at it looking confused.

“I heard a knock. I thought it might have been the cleaning lady, he said, making way for the two to enter. As they crossed through the door, the Trickster squawked strangely, as if startled. He’d been perched on the television. Sen looked up with a bemused expression. “Speak of the devil” he remarked. Smiling slightly and nodding to Talbot.

“And the devil shall appear.” Talbot bowed more dramatically, true to his style. “And it looks as though we have some new companions,” he remarked slyly, looking from the Trickster to Jackson.

Jon nodded and made introductions as Talbot bowed kindly to Jackson, winking. Jon should have known he’d like him more than he should. He was already turning to the bird as Jackson was began to speak, but Talbot cut across him. “Master Trickster,” and Talbot bowed so deeply his forehead nearly touched his knee. The trickster straightened up, looking dignified, then spread his wings, he was engulfed in smoke and was suddenly a man in a solid robe with shoulder length silver hair and haughty features. His slanting eyes looked almost dangerous, sending off a slightly creeper vibe. Jon though that he probably would had all black clothing and had before his nature had been changed.

“And since when can you do that?!” Jon demanded, the most surprised person in the room. Jon was annoyed that his own familiar was suddenly revealing such an important ability at a time when there was so much else going on. His head was beginning to feel heavy and unwell.

“Since someone respected me properly.” Said the trickster. His voice was less crow-like, but still retained its character. It had a playful sound, but also somewhat dangerous.

“Well, you could have told your master about it.” Jon retorted at the rebuke. As surprising as this was, the occasion was too important to allow this to detract from the agenda. Jon shot a rueful glance at the man who should have been a bird. “We’ll talk more about this later.” He was still drunk, and wasn’t sure he’d even be upset about it when the time came. For now though, he was feeling immensely indignant.

“As I said…” The crow smiled haughtily, and returned his gaze to the larger yet shorter man next to him. “Master Talbot. I’ve been an admirer of your trickery for some time. Though admittedly, as you might have noticed, I am reformed, in more ways than one.”

“Yes, so I’ve heard, and now see,” he added bouncing on his heals examining the spirit.

“Wait, you’ve heard of what’s happened?” Jon cut it. “How?” They hadn’t been seen by anyone outside, and there were powerful anti-revelation enchantments over the resort. No one should have been able to disclose their location or identities or even stories about them once they left the compound. This made Jon nervous.

“Spirits and familiars have networks of their own,” Said Talbot. “And My ear’s been to the ground so to speak since you disappeared.”

“Is that how you found us?” Jon asked. “There are familiars out there talking about us?” He rounded to Senfeng. “This is bad, anyone might know where we are now.”

“No, my lord.” Talbot was relaxed but matched the serious tone of Jon’s apparent concern. “I received a message from Madam Hubbard.” Sen spoke next.

“I had her try to search for him. She must have only just found him. Since we knew he could only be alive if he hadn’t betrayed you, it was safe to attempt to locate him.” He bowed slightly towards Talbot at the comment. “I must be honest though, I was beginning to wonder if you’d passed on for one reason or another. It’s been some time since we arrived here. I would have expected you sooner.”

“Unfortunately,” Talbot began to explain. “I’ve been in hiding since the Chateau went into its cycle.” He clearly meant the looping destruction. “I knew the past was catching up to us, and that meant I was in very immediate danger, especially with Master Sait missing.” He looked at Jon with regret in his face. “I’ve been looking for you ever since though. I feared the worst.” It was just this morning a messaged reached me at the safehouse I was staying at.”

Jon was satisfied with his answer. But it still didn’t explain how the even with the Trickster hadn’t tipped the magical community off. He said as much.

“Well, the trickster is one of the oldest and most powerful demons there are. For him to have been defeated, the warlock doing the binding would have to be more than just incredibly adept in the arts, they’d need to be incredibly powerful.” He smiled at Jon and nodded, raising his eyebrows. “News of such a famous spirit being purified was certain to travel fast among the dead. I’m a medium remember.”

“But wouldn’t that mean the Necromancer would know it was me then.” Jon was concerned.

“Maybe not,” said Sen. It’s possible he still has no idea you’ve come into your powers so readily. It’s unheard of for a wizard to master his craft that the rate you have. Frankly, only a highly skilled wizard whose been around a bit would normally be able to pull off the level of magic you performed that night. Most likely, he thinks it’s a different sorcerer.” Sen’s words were reassuring.

Jon collapsed into a chair. The events were getting to him. He rubbed the sides of his head. “Talbot. I know it was you.”

“Hmmmmm?” Talbot humored him.

“That changed the grimoire. It’s time to stop keeping secrets and playing dumb. Why did you do it?”

Talbot’s face dropped into an open frown. “Oh. That, well… Yes.” He looked away from Jon as he spoke. “When the last Sait died, he’d been betrayed.” It had been a Necromancer. The one who hunts you now. He’s sent spirits during a ritual I was conducting… They took me over.” He sunk into a seat. There were so many.” He was hiding his face. “I couldn’t regain control. It was too late. Jon let him take his time.

“Then I remembered the book. I though perhaps he would try to steal it. I was worried he would come right away. So I enchanted it, so only the rightful Lord of the House of Sait would be able discern it’s meaning.”

“So why didn’t you tell me? And Sen, what about you?” Jon looked back and forth between them. Sen stared at Jon, who was turning scarlet with frustration.

“Because,” Talbot said. “To prevent anyone from having the information extracted, I put a spell on the book, which would disabled anyone from speaking of the events that had occurred. It would be like nothing had happened, as if the lord had simply disappeared. And that’s the manner in which it’s been discussed. Besides, there was little and less that Master Senfeng knew of the matter. And for that, I do apologize,” Talbot finished, turning to Senfeng and bowing in acknowledgement of his errors.

“Well, that’s great, except, its caused a lot of problems now. What if I hadn’t been able to discern the book?”

“Well, that is part of why Senfeng is your guardian. He can’t instruct you, or give you insight that would affect the outcome of your destiny, but he is able to provide you with the services needed to guarantee your survival until you come into your full powers. He is also able to discuss your family history with you, excluding what I just mentioned.” He added, “This was not his fault. Even I was bound to ultimate secrecy. It was to prevent spies from extracting information from us involuntarily.”

“I would certainly have told you if I could,” Senfeng attempted, “but the magic Talbot cast was powerful and very complete, there was no way around it, and it clouded my memory of those events. For me it was as if that period of time was spent in a fog where the House of Sait is concerned.”

Jon sighed. He leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes. “Okay.” He was ready for a new topic. “Talbot,” he said, “what can you tell me about the Necromancer.”

“Well sir,” he cleared his throat. “Now you’ve unlocked the book, and I’ve been unbound from my vow of secrecy, that is really the question.” He smiled excitedly. You see,” his face fell seriously again. “as I said, it was the necromancer who killed your ancestor. He had been a member of his Household, or at least everyone thought he had been. He had secretly created a Gollum that operated independently which actually thought it was him. It was genuinely loyal to your household. But since it was being controlled by the necromancer, everything the Gollum had learned was transferred to the Necromancer, in very similar fashion to the way a master is able to see and know what his familiar knows. He’d extracted what he needed to know about the house of Sait, and when the time was right, he destroyed the Gollum and acted. This took him over a century. He had to place himself into a position of such trust that he would have access to nearly any knowledge he wanted without being under suspicion.” He took a drink to wet his throat and continued. “That is very good thank you,” he remarked about the drink that had been sitting on the table. He had already discarded his own. “Once he’d done that, he was going to steal the book and usurp the power from the Sait line. I’m not sure how, but when you were revived, I retrieved the book to prepare to train you, but I discovered that my hands weren’t the only ones who’d handled it. I could sense powerful spells had been used on the book, attempting to read its pages. I am sure it would have been stolen had I not fixed the book to be removeable only by myself or the heir of the Sait line. I can only assume it was the necromancer who made the attempts.”

This worried Jon. How had the necromancer gained access to the Order? “Do you suppose he used another Gollum to infiltrate the castle?”

“I do not think that would be possible.” When it was discovered that he’d done so to betray the Saits previously, lengthy measures were taken to prevent such a thing from happening again.” He seemed confident enough. Jon felt he could reasonably assume that was true.

“Then how would he be able to even access the grounds without a proxy?”

“That I still don’t know. This is what’s the most troubling.” For the last six years, I’ve been working to unravel that bit of troubling information. In the meantime, countless protective steps have been taken in to prevent it’s happening again. One example is the connecting of your chambers with Master Senfeng’s den. This connection is more than a portal. It works like a security system, allowing him and his familiar to detect any presences with malicious intent on the grounds. Beyond that, his familiar was also patrolling the grounds at all times since your arrival, except of course when Master Senfeng required his presence.”

“But I never saw Zhao on property.” Jon was perplexed.

“You wouldn’t have.” Talbot explained. “He was non-corporeal, in his true form.”

“A dragon?” asked.

“Yes, as a dragon he is quite large, but also usually invisible unless he wishes to be detected, or Senfeng orders it so.” He smiled. “Zhao has been silently circling the castle in the air for over five years. Until now anyway. Currently he is resting beneath your balcony.”

“What!?” Jon was startled. He turned to Senfeng, who nodded, confirming it to be true.

“He has been instructed for quite some time to accompany you at all times. That means that wherever you go, he is nearly always there.”

Jon recalled Senfeng having said something recently about him being in disguise somewhere. He didn’t realize the beast was literally beneath their feet every day. That explained why Senfeng was so confident sitting out in the open discussing their plans. It was the safest place to be. “Thanks for clueing me in.” Jon wasn’t so much angry as he was perturbed at his own naivety. Still, he had to laugh a little at the idea of a giant dragon being next to him all the time without his knowledge.

“Well, this all solves one large, problem,” said Jon. We no longer need to go find Talbot.

“But it leaves a few questions hanging in the air.” Senfeng said, dispelling Jon’s relief. “We still urgently need to find out whether Dan survived your trap, and how he is connected to the necromancer. It also means he knew we had alarms and precautions in place and was able to work around them. How was that? If he hadn’t, he never would have been able to infiltrate the castle grounds. And how was he able to be on the grounds without using a Gollum?” The three looked at one another.

The whole time, Jackson, who was sitting back watching, apparently putting together the pieces of information he’d gleaned from Jon and Sen, who’d never seemed troubled to let him in on the entirety of the business. Jon only realized it as he looked at his familiar. I should let them in on more of what’s going on. For some reason, it hadn’t seemed to matter as much as it would have prior to making him his familiar. He felt disconnected from the issue. He chimed in now though. “Do you think maybe this Dan guy is related to the Necromancer?” He seemed a little embarrassed, but also annoyed that no one had considered this. “I mean, it sounds like it would have to be someone the necromancer trusts explicitly. Who can you trust more than family?

Jon considered this for a moment. “There may be something to that.” Jon said putting his index finger to his mouth in deep thought. We need a way to confirm it.

“Well. You do have two familiars who can go anywhere in any form you please.” Senfeng raised his eyebrows at Jon.

“Oh my God, Senfeng you’re a genius!” Jon looked between the two espers he’d grown to care for. It would be really dangerous. Was it safe to send a familiar? What would happen if the necromancer got a hold of them?

Talbot spoke up. “Considering we are dealing with a necromancer, I cannot say I think it wise to send spirits in as spies.” He looked concerned.

“But, they’re only going in as scouts. And would be able to make a quicker escape than we would if they were discovered.” Jon said rounding on the two spirits. He spoke to the Trickster. “It’s time we gave you a new name. It’ll make it less dangerous if the necromancer doesn’t know your identity, and as the trickster you’re too famous. I’ll put protective enchantments around your new identity.”

The Trickster cawed quietly. Did that mean he liked the idea, or was resigning himself to it? Jon closed his eyes, he spread out his arms, and the trickster seemed to be lifted into the air involuntarily, hovering a foot off the floor, still in human form.

Jon spoke in his vision, he felt his mouth move separately, after he’d already said the words.” Trickster, you have many names, and are the most cunning of all spirits, I call to you.”

The spirit glowed gold, spoke and changed form. He was still made of light, but shaped something between a person and a bird. “Master, speak as you would.” The espers voice echoed and reverberated around Jon like an instrument, clean and clear.

“Trickster, crow, fox, snake ...” As he spoke all the spirits names, strands of hazy grey and other dull colored light peeled off the spirit, dissolving in space.” “I name you Fidele.” As Jon spoke, his voice echoed around the room and seemed to become light, centralizing around the esper’s form. Lights of other colors were still sluffing off Fidele. The words he’d spoken became like string as well and wove around the being. The last strand that had removed itself from the bird seemed to fade and become black, then disintegrated into nothing. It was done.

“Thank you.” The being floated down to the floor and landed in a kneeling position. Jon opened his eyes. Fidele was before him, like in his vision, but no longer glowing in brilliant color. His head was like a crow, and he had wings, but his body was like a man, with arms, and legs and torso. Wearing a fabric that Jon couldn’t really describe. It didn’t really look woven, but instead seemed to be made of water as it hung from his shoulder.

“Fidele, there isn’t any time to waste. Now that we have some information, I want you to take Jackson, and search for Dan. Start at the castle. If you find him, protect him if you can. Most importantly though, find out what his angle is.” Fidele bowed at the command. He rounded to Jackson. “I want you to follow Fidele’s lead. It’s not going to be safe, and you are very new to all this. Above all else, guard your name, and don’t let yourself get noticed. If anything goes wrong, come back immediately, do not hesitate. If Fidele is taken, return immediately.

He called the two close to him, and put his hand on their shoulders. Silently he wove protective magic over their names and presences, so they’d be harder to detect.

The two stepped back, bowed to Jon and without a word, both jumped, twisting in the air toward the window and transformed into crows, one was pure white, the other a steely grey. Without stopping they flew through the open doors to the balcony and were lost in the early evening dark.

“I think we have a lot to do.” Jon looked at Talbot. “I’m sorry friend. I know we’ve only just been reunited, and it seems impertinent to go against the first recommendations your adviser gives you after a reunion, but Fidele is the wisest one of all of us, and sending two is safer than one. He will be most able to uncover what is being hidden. Secrets are his specialty.”

Talbot returned the apology with a smile. “I trust your judgements.” He bowed slightly. “And now I believe, it is our turn to set to work.”

And they did.

#

After a good meal, the three men set their plates aside and Talbot divulged his side of recent events. After Jon had sealed the door on the other side. Talbot had done just as Jon predicted he would, being a creature of ritual. He’d gone to the office to tidy up and prepare for the day. He’d noticed the note on his desk, and had managed to get everyone out to safety only just in time to see the castle encased on a sphere of light and flame, exploding over and over again. Notably, he hadn’t been able to find Dan after the explosion began. Whether he had managed to trigger the explosion to cover his tracks or had been trapped inside the time loop was unclear.

Things seemed to have likely gone according to Jon’s plan. At this point of the story, Talbot reached up, and seemed to stick his arm into a pocket of nothingness. His hand disappeared in the air between him and Jon. When he extracted his hand, it was holding sphere that was moving. The castle was in miniature. It looked like a violent snow-globe filled with flame, smoke and debris expanding and contracting in swirls of tiny doom. He handed it to Jon. “I believe this belongs to you. When it is safe, I’m sure you will find a way to undo this magic and restore the castle. I dare say, the rest of us found it quite impossible in the urgency of the situation.” He chuckled fruitily at his failure.

“Thank you.” Said Jon taking the ball. It was warm to the touch. In truth, he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to undo the spells and enchantments he’d cast upon his home. But it’d be worth trying, and he had no shortage of time for this task, though getting it done sooner might prove helpful. “It’s so small.”

“Well, it’s actually encased in an alternate dimension accessible to the touch, but not penetrable. The castle has not so much been resized as it has been relocated. The difference in size and weight you perceive has more to do with the barrier than the actual size of the castle. You see, the container is small, but the interior of the container is actually quite spacious. If you were to return to the site the chateau haled from, you’d see a clean rounded crater in the side of the mountain. Still strange, but by now, it’s sure to have snowed again and covered up the obvious gouge in the mountain form.

Jon smiled at the tiny ball. “Carrying my home around with me. It makes me feel a bit like a tortoise.”

He pocketed the globe, resolving to restore his home when he had more time, hoping there would be no roasted corpses inside, or should he be hoping there would be?

Now was Jon’s turn to speak. He disclosed the details of his unlocking the grimoire to Talbot and explained his dream. It seemed to deeply unsettle Talbot just as it had done Senfeng.

“Jon, Senfeng was right to be concerned. There is information you need to know, that he, given his unique situation could not tell you.”

“And can you tell me?” Jon was ready for answers, and growing impatient.

“Yes, now that you have fully awakened, as your adviser and member of your household, I can.” He settled in. The first thing you must know, is that there is a very good reason the necromancer is after you specifically. It is true that it is due in part to your latent ability. But more so, he wants your position. He feels it’s his birth right.”

My birthright? “What do you mean?”

“The truth is, this all goes back to the foundations of House Sait. The order of the Seers was founded by your ancestors, which you know. You see, it has always been under the authority of your family Jon.” Talbot continued. “Only two generations after the Order was established, the Lord of the Order had two sons. The eldest was very powerful and skilled, while the younger, who was still powerful, was not as strong as his brother. But something went wrong. The eldest brother went wrong somewhere, and was banished. His birthright was denied him. He became the first head of one of the dark orders. These are pseudo organizations that seek to disrupt the balance of power, to take it all in to themselves.”

“But couldn’t that destroy everything?” Jon asked. Didn’t he know that?

“The concept of balance hadn’t been tested really yet. There were many who didn’t believe in the balance. In truth, these events proved its existence.” He shifted again, becoming one with the recliner. “He went to war with the Saits, who just barely overcame him. The head of the Order died in the conflict, and the younger brother finished what his father had started.

“How did he do it, if he wasn’t as powerful?” Jon asked.

“He had help.” Senfeng inserted. “The heads of some of the other orders, also newly established helped to put a stop to the Rogue Sait’s ambitions. It was temporary though, and the repercussions for their involvement were nearly catastrophic. The world doesn’t remember, because many alterations were made to the memory of history to protect the truth, but nearly everything was destroyed. You hear stories about the fall of Babel, the sinking of Atlantis, and there are ruins of ancient cities frequently discovered at the ocean floor. Great migrations of people occurred around the same time. “Science refers to that time as a bottle-neck. It was a moment of catastrophe when the race of men was nearly completely wiped out. It wasn’t the first time. But thankfully, so far, it was the last. There were extreme droughts, floods, storms, tsunamis, volcanic eruptions, even plagues. Magic didn’t work to stop them, it was inexplicable.”

Jon whistled.

“It was a result of the balance being distorted. Power had nearly shifted entirely to a single entity, and when other powers tried to stop him, by lending aid to the Saits, it shifted the power again in a different direction, like a pendulum out of whack. Everything was nearly destroyed. So, the Law of Balance was proved, and to protect it, the Heads of all the orders gathered for a tribunal. There, they bound their Orders to protect the balance, and refrain from interference in the balance.”

Jon was thinking hard. Turning to Sen he said, “But, if that’s the case, then you helping me would be throwing off order. Isn’t it disrupting the balance?”

Talbot answered for Sen, who seemed oddly lip locked. “Yes, in a manner of speaking. Though, for several reasons, the impact is far slighter than what happened in the past. You see, when Senfeng bound himself to the Sait house, to become the only familiar ever to be bound to a non-human entity, he had to undergo powerful creation magic to make it possible, not very unlike what you’ve done with trickster. Though effectually, it is much different. You see, firstly, Senfeng is a human, so becoming familiar to an entity that wasn’t bound by time, such as an Order, which is fated to last to the end of the world, would necessitate that he be immortal. That was the first bit of creation magic that had to be done. The second bit is that he, who was already the head of an order, couldn’t lend his power to another order’s head. So, he underwent a second level of creation magic. The combination was both a blessing and a curse.”

“How do you mean?” Jon asked looking between Senfeng and Talbot.

“Well, to maintain the balance, only certain exemptions were able to be made, just to be safe. He only changed that he would be able to protect you, but not interfere magically with your household. This is the bit that’s cause you two so much trouble in your communications as of late. It is literally impossible for him to speak of anything that would influence the shift of power in your household. At least directly. And anything he does to protect you, if it affects your households power, directly affects him. This was part of his reordering. In order to protect the balance of the world, he is bound to take on the consequences of the shift into power himself.

“What?!” Jon was shocked. “Why would you do that? Why didn’t you say anything? Has anything we’ve done so far affected you?” Before Sen was able to give an answer, Jon turned to Talbot. “What happens to him if his actions do change things?”

“Well, He is immortal now, but he is not all-powerful. Any distortion to the balance he causes damages his soul. He cannot die, but he can become less than human. In the worst case scenario, he would be reduced to a shadow, literally.” The room was dead silent.

“Have you caused yourself harm at my expense since we’ve been traveling?” Jon asked Senfeng. Sen looked at Jon, and said nothing. “I see.” Jon had his answer. “I expect you to be more careful in the future. I wish you would have told me.” He felt grateful, and sad, and angry.

“But he couldn’t have, could he?” Talbot said. “If he’d said anything, it would have dramatically changed your actions. It might have done the opposite of his intentions. It might have effectively destroyed him.” Talbot paused a moment. “It was the best course of action to remain silent, and take the hits as they came.”

Guilt coursed through Jon like a river. “I made you come with me…” He felt trapped, like a man being enslaved as an executioner. With the precarious state he was it, it put Senfeng in an incredibly dangerous position.

“I chose this you know. I knew what I was doing. I helped write the enchantments that transformed and bound me. I penned my destiny with my own hands.”

Jon wasn’t relieved, but his thoughts were interrupted with a remembered promise.

“Hang on, you said there was someone who was going to try to kill you. You said you needed me to find out who was going to try to assassinate you. If you’re immortal, why would that matter?”

“It matters. It matters for my household as well. As the head of my Order, I have yet to have find a worthy successor. It would bring chaos if I died.”

“But you can’t die.”

“He can actually. If,” Talbot interrupted, “he was to be unmade. The creation magic would have to be undone. But you experienced it firsthand. The recreated object is a new thing. To undo the magic is to destroy the object. It is to uncreate it. If Talbot was unbound to the House of Sait, he would die.”

“But who could do that? Only the master of a familiar can unbind it, right?”

“That’s right.” Said Talbot. This leaves only three possibilities. “The first is our best hope, but current fear. If the current necromancer is the same as history teaches, then he is also a Sait. The possibility for him to or his kin to unbind Senfeng is unlikely, but might still be a problem for us. It’s a tricky situation. If he is still alive, it is hard to say whether he would have power over Senfeng, since he was banished and his position in the Order was revoked. But by birth he is still a Sait. Your order is unique in that it’s leadership is Dynastic. The successors are chosen by heredity, not selection. Only the Saits themselves are permitted the knowledge of why this is. It is a mystery you must unlock to understand what is to come. If he were to prove successful and usurp your role, the consequences might be grievous. This is why it’s so important we learn more about who is going to make the attempt.”

“The second possibility, is that one of the necromancer’s descendants has gained power, and infiltrated the House of Sait. Though this seems highly unlikely and should be impossible. Then again, if your new friend Jackson is correct…”

“Finally, our greatest fear, though I should hope the least likely and most impossible, is that you yourself could choose to unmake him.” The room fell silent once again.

After a moment Jon spoke. “I would never do that.” His voice registered just above a whisper. He as speaking more to himself than the other two.

“And to that hope, we must cling.” Talbot said, patting Jon’s shoulder with his hand. “Destiny is a strange path. And no one’s is so clouded as yours.” Jon looked at Senfeng, who returned the gaze, but seemed relaxed somehow.

After a moment, Talbot continued. “There is more. It pertains to your dream. You know the Necromancer was a Sait, but what you don’t know is why he became a necromancer in the first place.” Jon’s interest peaked again. “Do you remember asking me the difference between a medium and a Necromancer?”

“Yeah, Jon said. I remember you saying something about it having more to do with the way Necromancers engage with spirits, right?”

“That’s correct. I’m impressed you remember such a small bit of information,” Talbot smiled. It made Jon feel like a child. “A necromancer divines using the dead as tools, not by becoming a gateway by which the dead or spirits can communicate with the living such as is the case with mediums. Additionally, necromancers in some cases have been known to take power from the dead. They enslave them. It’s like having a familiar, but requires no exchange of power, instead, the power is leached from the dead until their soul deteriorates to little more than a shade or is destroyed. The necromancer is able to manipulate their power at will. It’s dark, heinous magic. When the necromancer is done with the spirit, sometimes, they are reduced to a shade. Able only to exist, but having no real self.”

“Is that what might happen to Senfeng?” Jon asked.

“It is possible, under certain circumstances. Though more likely he would simply be destroyed completely erased from existence. In truth, the latter is the kinder fate.” Talbot grimaced. “But we are straying from the point,” he said in quick change of attitude, striking the air with his finger. “Your dream. You see, the shift from medium to Necromancer is a slippery slope. Some mediums, after tasting the power that passes through them, begin to thirst for it. They become hungry for control over the latent power of the spirits they conjure.” He looked at Jon, transferring a tacit understanding. Jon thought of the blue wall. “You see, Jon. The basis of Necromancy lies in the art of seeing. The first necromancers were seers. And all necromancers since have been likewise.” Jon felt the prickling sensation of foreboding. “In your dream, when you came to the wall of water, you were at the bridge. When a seer calls to a spirit, they also come to the border. The gate between life and death. They call through the gate, and wait for the spirit to surface. When contact is made, a temporary contract is formed between spirit and medium, allowing the spirit to use the wizard as a vessel.”

Jon felt a surge of comprehension. “But I felt a strange fear when I was at the border, but I also felt a desire to go beyond the surface.”

“Beyond that border is a different kind of power. Not all of it is good. In fact, the use of it by men is against natural order. The knowledge beyond the surface is dangerous and deceptive. Not all spirits are good, and anything calling a man beyond the gate cannot be good. It was a trap.” He looked at Jon for a moment, searching. “It was likely a great power and deep secrets you might have uncovered. But there would certainly have been a great sacrifice to be made. You would not have returned the same, if you returned at all. Jon, that is how a warlock is made. Men fall to temptation. Your power is incredible, and your need for more of it is real, considering what you must face, but the kind of power gained by perversion… that is not what you need.”

Jon nodded slowly. He felt somewhat let down at the evidence that was now dashing any hope that Senfeng and Elizabeth might be wrong. He felt the truth sink in to himself, and as he accepted it, he felt a strange tension he hadn’t realized that had taken hold release its grip. He knew he could trace the feeling back to the encounter he’d had in his dream. And he knew that a piece of him had already known the truth. The foreboding he’d sensed, the fear; it was his gift, not just his instincts.

#

That night Talbot took the sofa, which made into a bed. And Jon and Sen took their respective beds. Jon laid abed, wide awake, thinking over the day’s turn of events. It had been highly revelatory. Senfeng seemed to be having no trouble sleeping however. Perhaps he’d already known all this and resigned himself to all the possibilities the truth held for them. That seemed likely. During their conversation, he seemed serious but generally unconcerned.

Jon studied his friend as he slept. He was silhouetted against the moonlight coming in from the window. Looking past him into the black he was reminded of the night everything had started. The disembodied shadow that he kept close at all times, trapped inside a small clock. Thankfully, he had since learned to weave better and had reworked the seal, enabling the spell to use power from the spirit itself so as not to distort surrounding energy fields or disengage should it get separated from Jon. He thought again of the help Senfeng had offered that night, and the advice. He was the source of all Senfeng’s troubles. He was the reason Senfeng was in danger. If he died, it would be Jon’s fault.

He rose, unable to douse the burning shame and fear inside his chest. He went to the bathroom and filled the sink with cold water. Jon threw his face into it, trying to shock himself out of his funk. The sensation didn’t help, but he kept trying, holding his head under until he needed breath.

“What are you doing?” came a voice as Jon rose from the basin. He felt oddly disoriented, and hadn’t expected anyone to be awake.

Senfeng was in the door way. Jon looked at his friend as water dripped down his chin onto his chest, cold and uncomfortable. Jon registered the strangeness of his own behavior. “I ... Umm ...” He was a grown man, he didn’t want to let his friend see his like that. Anxiety brought him to his knees anyway, shuddering with quiet sobs. Hot tears mingled with cold water as it dripped down his face.

Senfeng chuckled. “It’s going to be alright you know.” Jon cried harder. He didn’t believe him. “I’m sorry, Jon mumbled.” Sen put his hand on Jon’s head, petting his hair reassuringly until the sobs ebbed, eventually diminishing into a hushed, morose contemplation. Jon wiped his face clumsily as he stood up. Senfeng grabbed Jon by the shoulders. “This is a lot. It’s okay to be overwhelmed. When you need to, talk about it. Even if I can’t answer, I can listen.” Jon nodded. His friend brought him in for a hug drawing out a cascade of fresh tears. Maybe it’s okay for a friend to see me like this.

After exhausting his tears, Jon felt drained. He collapsed onto his bed and fell into a deep sleep, though dreams still came. He was there again. Before him was a wall of water, with its blue ambient light. He felt the clenching in his chest tighten again. It was tempting, but also frightening.

From the corners of his eyes, he saw it. Silver light was whipping around behind him. As it stole his attention, suddenly he was no longer at the wall, but surrounded by darkness, except for circle of silver espers surrounding him. It was his ancestors. They’d pulled him from the water’s edge. “We’ve been waiting to speak with you,” the one directly in front of Jon said. He didn’t look like the oldest, in fact, he was younger looking than most of his comrades, but Jon could tell he was the most esteemed among them.

“Who are you?” Jon couldn’t sort out the generations, though he saw there was a resemblance among all of them, including himself.

He asked the question, but instead of answering, the spirits joined hands, making a circle. All except the spirit facing Jon raised a free hand, leaving a gap in the chain to touch Jon’s forehead with his index finger.

Jon was blinded with light. Suddenly he was being rushed through time and space. A skull crushing amount of information was being pressed inside. It was like when he sifted through the grimoire’s timeline, only several times more intense, and much more fast-paced. There was no time to digest the information. It was simply becoming wrote memory. He would have to really digest it later. There were centuries of memories being downloaded into him. The pain was almost blinding from trying to focus on what was happening. He was being taken through all the lives of his ancestry, every generation of the house of Sait, even the nonmagical people. Somehow the nonmagical lives felt almost more invaluable then those surrounded with power. He saw the complete timeline of their history, from the first generation of the Order’s inception on. He felt as though it had all been his life, with different personalities, different behaviors, decisions he wouldn’t have made. It all felt like it belonged to him, his own past. He felt like a reincarnation, but knew that wasn’t it. They were all sharing their consciousness with him, their wisdom, their experiences. He felt what they felt, and knew their thoughts. Thousands of years of life were being downloaded into him instantaneously. The stream of events ended at the end of his last ancestor’s death, his grandpa. He’d known him as a child.

When the memories stopped, the chief Sait spoke again. He was the first Sait, who was founded the Order of the Seer. “Now we will look together at the sum of your mother’s history.” And Jon without thinking stepped into the gap in the circle and joined hands with the group. They were linked together chronologically, each next to their predecessor. Jon joined hands with his grandfather and the first Sait Lord. They collectively began searching through time, and saw everything leading up to Jon’s birth in his mother’s life. He even saw her perspective as she raised him. It was a strange feeling, knowing the thoughts of one’s parents. It confirmed his suspicions. She had been disappointed in him when he began to flounder after high school, though he could feel the intense affection of a mother there as well. The feeling was soured by a sense of loss. She had grieved for Jon after he’d disappeared. Though she had since moved on and resumed daily life again. Too bad she couldn’t see him now. He’d become one of the most powerful people in history. The knowledge somehow eased his concern for her feelings. He felt confident that she’d be proud if she could know and understand.

When the memories stopped again, he looked up and saw his ancestors smiling at him. So, this was how they had intended to teach him. He felt their power going into him now, not to empower him, but he knew the toll the experience he’d just had would take if he wasn’t protected somehow. Their power was keeping him together, containing the events effects. It enabled him to go through the experience without being torn apart. Normally, it would have been a process that happened one ancestor at a time, over a period of several years. This was a first. He knew why they’d decided to intervene in his education. They knew Talbot had been in danger, that teaching him slowly in the open could cause important information to be gleaned by those who posed a threat. It was nothing to do with Talbot’s trustworthiness or ability. In fact, he’d been the perfect candidate. Jon knew from his ancestor’s lives that Talbot was one of the most capable mediums ever. He would only ever be second to the Necromancer, and possibly, eventually, Jon.

As the events concluded, the spirits began disappearing in sequence from his grandfather back. He knew they were leaving, returning to where they belonged, behind the gate. The last to go was the first Sait. He and Jon stared at one another for a long time. Jon could feel his power. Jon knew why he lingered.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 13: VIP’s and Role Reversal

 

Several days had passed since Jon had sent his familiars on their reconnaissance mission. Whenever he began to feel concern for them, he would check in on their whereabouts. They hadn’t reported in yet primarily because there was nothing to report, but also because they were clamoring for information. They’d been very busy. They were searching spiritual as well as tangible networks. Jon was astonished at the avenues at his fingertips. He had even become adept at star gazing, though all his efforts to find useful information about the Necromancers were clouded. He suspected it was either due to his own involvement or them having taken extreme precaution to sure up their defenses. New tricks aside, they had had to be very careful. Jon was glad to see they were being very safe about it, though admittedly, the waiting game was waxing a bit strenuous on his nerves.

In the meantime, he had explained most of his dream and the methods of instruction his ancestors had chosen to Talbot and Senfeng. It had affected him dramatically. He was much different now. His personality was still more-less the same, but he felt far more clued in, and he felt much more even-keeled, though he wasn’t sure if that was a result of his new confidence or having a nervous breakdown in the bathroom. By this point, he knew almost as much about the history of the world as Senfeng, and much more about the House of Sait than either Senfeng or Talbot put together, exempting the last 150 years of official business. He even saw his confidants in new light. He was now able to speak freely to them about all their past interactions with his ancestors, as though he’d been the one they had been dealing with all along. Finally, he felt like a contributor.

He was surprised to find it was taking the two of them more time than he’d expected to adjust to this change however. They had become used to being relied on for information and had even seemed to enjoy that role. In truth, Jon missed it too. He’d admired and respected the two men, even revered them. Now however, they were all on equal footing, though he still respected their experience, and knew even they still had knowledge he didn’t. Additionally, outside perspectives always made for a more complete counsel. They were still invaluable to him. He trusted no one more, and they’d become like family to him, even more so now that he was more familiar with their history. The two men had shown to be consistently loyal, and despite Talbot having a somewhat dubious history with royalty and other crafters, had proven to be immensely reliable.

It was the fourth day after having sent away his familiars when Jon finally had the opportunity to speak with Talbot one on one. Senfeng had said he was going to pay Elizabeth a visit concerning some questions he had about the local star charts, but Jon noticed when he left he was headed in the opposite direction toward the suite of a pretty woman he’d met the day prior at the pool. Odd…

“Talbot, I have something I need to speak to you about.” Jon said once he sensed Senfeng was out of earshot and truly on his way to his secret engagement.

“What is it?” Talbot asked coming out to the balcony. He’d began sleeping in his own suite again, but was still spending nearly all his time with Jon and Senfeng, researching how to unlock mystery of Senfeng’s prophesy. They were all determined it was the key to everything.

“I want to talk about something that’s been bothering me about Master Senfeng.” Jon looked out at the valley below. The golden grass stretched out in the valley beyond the balcony, smattered with large beige rocks and ocotillo cactus, and yucca plants. He was surprised to find how at home he was beginning to feel surrounded by the unique landscape.

“Has he done something to disturb you, Sir?” Talbot took on an aghast intonation and bore a pseudo surprised look on his face. Jon had accepted that Talbot was always wearing a mask in front of others, but it still made him uneasy. It made it hard to trust anyone who wouldn’t be transparent about himself, but the man had proved himself over again and again. Jon had to remind himself of Talbot’s years of faithful service and all he’d done personally for Jon.

“No, nothing. It’s something else. After we were talking the other night, it reminded me that the head of an order is not able to use their power for their own benefit. If using their power will directly impact the balance, then, they are bound to be unable to use it as intended, correct?”

“Right, but are you…” Talbot narrowed his glance at Jon, picking up the subtext.

“Yes, I am.” Jon affirmed. “I’m growing worried that the reason my vision is closed to Senfeng’s fate is because I’m somehow directly involved in it. A seer cannot look deeply into their own future. You know that.”

Talbot took a deep breath in, holding it as he thought for a moment. Sighing he spoke. “I understand your concern, and think I see what you are getting at. But Jon, you must know that if you are directly involved in Master Senfeng’s future, it is not, and I stress, not necessarily because you will have a hand in his destruction. It may even be that you will be involved in his salvation. Have you considered that?”

He hadn’t. Jon thought on these words for a moment. He had been so worried about how potentially awful his role might be in Senfeng’s fate, that he hadn’t stopped to consider there might be a brighter side, or at least a side that was a little less dark. It helped some. “You’re right. Thanks. That brings me to something else. I am actually fairly certain that my involvement is the reason his prophesy is closed off to me, whatever the reason,” He held up a silencing hand to stop Talbot’s oncoming protests. “I know it’s true, though I don’t know the nature of it. That means it’s fruitless for me to continue. Even if I succeed, since it was Senfeng who asked me to look into it, if it does impact my decisions, it would hurt him. I can’t risk that.” Jon was speaking to the mountains now more than he was to Talbot.

“I see your reasoning.” The reassurance in his tone was a welcome bit of openness. Jon knew him to be a very serious-minded man beneath his veneer. “So, what will you do?”

“The only thing I can,” Jon said, looking to his friend. “I’m sorry to put a burden like this on you, but I have to give this one over to you, Talbot. I can’t go any further in the search. I can advise you in any area you need help with, now that I’ve truly mastered the arts, but I can’t look into this myself any deeper. You have to do it for me.”

Talbot nodded bracingly sage-like. “I was afraid you might say that. To tell you the truth, I’ve half expected this since the two of you first told me about the prophesy.” Talbot paused thinking. “It is difficult. In part, it’s because of the strong magic exempting Senfeng from the Laws of Balance. The rules surrounding him are different, in some ways. That makes looking into his future tricky. He’s in our world, but not quite part of the same fabric that makes up our universe. It’s a whole other set of laws and way of seeing.” I’m sure that’s why he came to you, though no doubt he must have had an inkling that you may run into this problem. Regardless of what the probabilities were, you were the ideal person to search for the answer, since you alone are able to see into the binding that is placed on him as a familiar. Understanding the rules surrounding him would make divining his future easier.

“Then I will remember and teach you, the way it was taught to me by my ancestors,” Jon replied. Talbot frowned deeply, obviously in no hurry to damage his soul. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you. Also, Talbot, I don’t want Senfeng to know about this yet. He’s too willing to break the rules. I know the reason he wants to know his fate, and it isn’t out of concern for himself. I don’t want him to do anything stupid.”

“As you wish, Master.” Talbot bowed a deep courtly bow. His over the top demeanor had been restored. Jon took this as a cue to go see a pretty girl he’d met the other day as well.

Jon didn’t return to his suit until very early the next morning, feeling slightly hungover, but very good. He walked quietly stalked to his bed, already undressed down to a robe and crawled in, noticing that Senfeng had already returned and was currently snoring softly. Jon felt a stab of something uncomfortable inside him. Sleep didn’t come easy after that. When he did find himself dreaming, he was in front of the water again. This time however, the clenching in his chest was gone. As he gazed beyond the gate, he could see that the blue light, wasn’t source-less anymore. He could define movement deep inside the water, far away from the surface. There were beings moving, some were enormous, while others were smaller. They were out of focus in the distance, but he could see their colors differed slightly. Some were blue, some were silver, and some were slightly green. He even noticed some were dark, pulling light in, but not casting their own glow, and not reflecting the light of those around them. They stuck out like voids.

Seeing them there, in their alien shapes was alluring, and eerie, but Jon found he had no desire to go to them or hear their secrets. He didn’t want to look deeper into the waters. He knew that it no longer held anything he wanted. What waited on the other side of the water were deception and uncertain visions, a trap. The fist sized knot of fear in his chest had subsided. As he thought this, he realized he was sleeping. And he was ready to wake up.

He sat up in bed, and saw Senfeng putting his hair up ritualistically. Jon knew his drill. He was about to get up to make tea and coffee after a lingering gaze at the vistas from the balcony. “Oh, you’re awake. Good morning.” He nodded to Jon.

“Morning.” Said Jon, who was still exhausted, but feeling alert after his dream-vision.

The three of them were sitting down to breakfast which was when Jon usually took a moment to check in on Fidele and Jackson, but was deep in thought about his night’s dream.

Talbot eyed him coyly. “Lost in thought about your excursion?” He playfully batted his eyelashes and put his hands under his chin in mock interest, as if story time was about to ensue.

“Hah, you’re a funny man,” said Jon. “No, I was actually thinking about something else.” He had noticed his chief counselor had been more overtly boisterous since his return and couldn’t help feel it was due in some small way to having missed them.

“Care to share?” Talbot’s head wobbled as he smiled humorously. He seemed to be thinking impure thoughts. Shut up, pervert. Jon didn’t want to know what those thoughts might be.

“Not right now, maybe later.”

“HMMMM???” Talbot said. “You’re certainly playing coy this morning.” He rounded on Senfeng. “Then how about you? The two of you left me alone in here, so I had to go find other things to do. I waited a while, but neither of you came back for a looooonnnnnng time.” He smiled knowingly at Senfeng.

Senfeng was nonplussed at the conversation. “I had some things to attend to. Actually…” he turned to Jon. “I spoke with Elizabeth yesterday about the stars around here. You know, there are a lot of astrologers in the area, and they said there is a strange event that’s been occurring. We couldn’t have noticed because it started before we arrived, and weren’t familiar with the stars in these parts, but there are stars that seem to be shifting.” That was very strange.

“You mean like, moving? Actual stars. Changing location?” Jon didn’t believe it. “That’s impossible. Entire stars don’t just change locations in the universe. They’d have to travel light years. Besides, if we saw them moving now, they movements wouldn’t be new anyway. It would’ve occurred millions of years ago. They must be confused,” he said biting down on his toast.

“I was inclined to think so at first as well, but I confirmed it with another source. It was very reliable.” Jon though he notices Senfeng shift a little as he said this. Maybe the trip to visit the girl yesterday was a little mixed in motive. Business with pleasure?

Jon decided to pry a little. This is important after all. “And what source was this?”

Senfeng straightened up. Jon was surprised to see his friend so shy about this sort of thing, considering his age. Maybe he didn’t get out as much as Jon had thought. He was a good-looking guy, so Jon has always assumed he’d got around. Unless…

“I also met with a stargazer, an astrologer. She is a notable person in her craft, though not affiliated with any guilds. If she was, she’d be among your lot.” He nodded to Jon. “I’m not sure how she has acquired her skills, but I know her to be reliable, and even Elizabeth acknowledges her abilities. Believe me, for Elizabeth to extend any credence to another sorceress is no small thing. She is far more inclined to relegate other women to the category of “witch” than most wizards I know, especially if the sorceress is unaffiliated.

Jon could tell he spoke the truth. He also sensed that pressing the issue with Senfeng more about his encounter with the sorceress was a bad idea, based on the vibes his friend was sending. His usually chipper demeanor seemed to have darkened at the questioning of his activities unexpectedly. Apparently, there were bits of his personal life off limits to inquiry. Fair enough. Jon thought.

This was good news over all in any case, albeit disturbing. It was an event they could explore that might have some bearing on the present magical climate. Jon looked at Talbot, silently assigning him the task of looking further into it.

“So, what did this sorceress have to say about it then?” Jon asked now curious for information. The words came across shorter than intended.

“Well, the trouble is, she didn’t know. Apparently, the movements are unlike anything the astrologers around here have encountered. When I discussed this with Elizabeth, she was surprised as well. She was shocked that Diana didn’t know what it means.” Jon was also surprised that Senfeng had so willingly divulged the woman’s name.

“Maybe we all need to have a round table discussion with her, to see what she can tell us. She may be able to explain things surrounding the even that she doesn’t realize bear a connection to it.” As Jon said it, he got the impression the truth was in it. He sensed there was a strong connection to their situation and the events in the sky. Senses and feelings were the best he could hope for regarding his own path. All vision or knowings were clouded to him concerning his own destiny or cause. Considering how their destiny might impact the balance, it did make some sense that major events related to it might occur. Jon suspected this affected Senfeng more than anyone else though, given his unique situation.

Talbot was looking sideways at Jon. They were in accord. This was linked. “I think you may be right,” Talbot said. Though first we need to confirm that she isn’t a danger to us, or herself.”

“There’s no need for that.” Senfeng assured them. “I’ve already looked into her history and credentials, she’s safe. Besides, she couldn’t be here if she had malicious intent. She’d have been expelled the moment her motives were detected, whether she was already in the gates or not.” Jon knew he was right, but also wondered if he was being slightly defensive about her.

“Okay, then tonight, let’s bring her in and hear what she can tell us.” Jon said, surprised at how easily the accord had been reached, though the three of them finished the remainder of their breakfast in awkward silence.

That afternoon, the three spent their time sorting through global news, checking in with secure contacts and Jon’s familiars while Talbot searched new avenues regarding the prophesy. After hours of networking and then researching instances where stars had moved in the past, they called it a bust. No one had found anything useful. Finally, Senfeng went to make the plans with Diana. He didn’t return until evening, when they’d just had dinner brought the room. Talbot shot him a mischievous grin, at which he stiffened and walked over to Jon, acting slightly awkward. They were all men, what was there to be embarrassed about? But he was feeling awkward as well.

“She’ll be along in a few minutes.” Without another word, he grabbed a plate and began eating as though the only interesting thing in the room was his food. Jon was bemused. They were about halfway through their meal when there was a knock at the door. Talbot answered it.

Standing in the doorway was the most beautiful woman Jon had ever seen. Her face was round, her eyes were large, and she carried herself with such a grace that it made one feel like they were gliding on silk just watching her. Her visage had a mesmerizing numbing effect that was difficult to shake. Her skin was luminously pale. It was as if the whole room was drinking her in. What was it she was reminding him of…

Senfeng stood and offered her a seat by him and gave her a plate of chicken parmesan. That night they sat at the table to eat. She nodded graciously, “Well thank you.” Her lips widened into a large, ruby smile, showing brilliant white teeth. She was uncanny. And her voice bubbled like a fountain. She seemed more than alive to Jon. There was something like a spirit about her. She seemed to almost glow silver. His mind pulled him back to the gate with all its blue and silver shapes echoing into the abyss. The sound of knives scraping on plates brought him back.

They had predetermined not to talk about the charts until after dinner, under the pretext of being welcoming hosts, but in truth, Jon and especially Talbot were curious about the woman. So they ate and made small talk, though it was mostly Talbot poking fun at Senfeng, whom she playfully defended. She appeared to be very into him. It made Jon feel good to see someone appreciate his friend so much. He had the impression that Senfeng felt generally alone in life. After dinner, Jon decided to take a moment on the balcony to think.

This woman was too familiar, and he kept feeling he’d seen her before. There were flashes and bits of her face. Ugh, how frustrating. He stopped to look at the stars, wondering which ones had moved. The moon was full and beautiful. The moon. Boom. The memory came at full force. He hadn’t met her before, but one of his ancestors had. On the balcony of his chateau. The same balcony where Senfeng had made his request to Jon. It had been a full moon night, and this particular ancestor had an unusual affinity for astrological divination. Based on what Jon had gleaned, most seers favored a specific form of knowing. As he looked into the memory, the moon shone brightly, and from it shot a bright light, and where it hit on the balcony, appeared a woman. Her clothes were silvery white, and her hair was flax colored. He round face was literally glowing. She was the the moon itself. She spoke so many things to the man concerning the future, and had taken a liking to him, presumable for his love of the night sky. She seemed to be flattered, and so had made a rare appearance for such a devoted fan.

Jon stalked back inside right up to the table. Standing across from the woman. He felt a sense of triumph, mostly at overcoming his own mental density. “Diana, I know who you are.”

She smiled sweetly and nodded. “Lord Sait. I thought you might.” She stood up and gave a sort of bow. Jon bowed deeply, knowing his place. She was basically a deity, and an important figure of divination, offering guidance to astrologers and star gazers.

Talbot appeared puzzled, though Senfeng didn’t. He had already known who she was. He hadn’t let them in on her secret. Though it was clear that Talbot had known there was more to this woman that the obvious. “I think a proper introduction is due to you,” he said with a respectful nod. Gentlemen, allow me to properly introduce you.” Jon said to the room. “This is The Great Diana, Sarina, Madonna, the Avatar of the Moon, the Queen of Heaven.” As he finished, Talbot gasped and nearly knocked his chair down getting up to bow the deepest bow Jon had seen him express, ever. Senfeng was sitting back smiling slightly, and also looking a bit sheepish as well.

“There’s no need for all this commotion. I’m as much here to visit with you as you all are me. I think we can help each other.” She spoke as she returned to her seat. Jon couldn’t help admire her proud grace. She was more than alive, she was literally a cosmic force.

“Now, you know that I don’t understand what’s going on with the moving stars. I’m sure Senfeng has told you that much?” The question was rhetorical, though she raised her eyebrow appraisingly at both Jon and Talbot. They nodded, but she was already speaking again. “I have to admit, I’ve not been completely honest with you though.” She looked at Senfeng and seemed genuinely apologetic. “I think it’s best if we continue the discussion on the balcony.

They all stood, allowing her to lead the way. On the balcony, she reached into the sky with her right hand. “I’m sure you all know that world events, past, present, and future, are written in the stars.” They all silently acknowledged her monologue. “And you,” she turned to Jon. “through the eyes of those who came before you, have seen for yourself that stars also contain the secrets of each man’s life. They work like a network, connecting all men and their destinies. Proof that mankind shares in a greater plan, however unique, varied, and in some cases…” he eyes lingered on him. “uncertain. Their stories may be individually.” Jon nodded grimly. As she spoke his mind’s eye swept back to Saits in times past using the stars to see into the lives of others. This was knowledge known only to the Head of the Order. It was knowledge protected by the grimoire. It was true that stars could be used to tell horoscopes and general fortunes could be gleaned, but every detail and possibility could be ascertained if the diviner truly knew how to star gaze. Their truth would unfold like map before the seer. Seeing larger events were another matter altogether however. I was like playing different kinds of games with the same deck of cards. The rules and meanings changed for each star and stellar movement.

“I am not only the avatar of the moon. I am an oracle of divination. By nature, I love those who love strongly, and are full of devotion.” She turned to Senfeng, cradling his cheek in her left hand. Her eyes seemed sad somehow when she looked at him. “I see it in you.”

“Then can you help us unlock these events? I think the event in the stars is related to our situation.” Jon was feeling very hopeful having the moon herself on his side.

“Elizabeth was telling the truth. I don’t understand the shift in the stars. It’s never happened like this before. But I do know one thing. Among the stars that have changed, are the stars that represent you,” she said looking around the group. “You know that the Law of Balance will not allow seers to know their personal destiny by their own arts. If that is true of men, with small power, how much more do you think it matters for the spirits of the heavens to be bound to such Laws. I cannot see my own future.” Jon understood before she finished explaining.

“Wait. So, this affects you as well as us?” Jon asked.

She nodded. “There has been a recreation in you, Senfeng, this even was foretold, and when it happened, your destiny changed once before. But when that occurred, your star continued to shift, and other’s whose destiny became intertwined with yours shifted also. Now, all of you,” she looked at the three men. “are anomalies. I cannot see your destiny, because it is also mine. That said, the blame for our current situation is not Senfeng’s fault, at least not entirely. Since that event, dark sorcery has been used to manipulate your path, and now yours.” She said, rounding on Jon and Talbot. Someone has been working tirelessly recently to alter your fates, and now mine.

“That’s really why you’re here then?” Jon asked. Her presence there at such a convenient time couldn’t have been coincidence.

“You’ve grown a lot in these short years.” She walked over to Jon and kissed him on the forehead.  He only just realized how tall she was. He didn’t even need to crouch or bow for her to reach his brow with her lips. In fact, she stood level with Senfeng. Jon though maybe that was intentional on her part.

Her kiss was unearthly. It sent a warmth surging through him. He felt something wash over him that he hadn’t experienced before, a new power. He was sure this was new, even to his ancestors. “Your friend has worked so long to protect others.” She looked pained. “He needs protection now. That much I can know without seeing.” She was frowning and a tear fell from her face. When it hit the floor, it became a diamond on the concrete.

Jon was moved. How could the moon herself care for a single person so much? But, Jon realized, Senfeng was one of the oldest people on earth. She had been watching his life for centuries. It made some sense she would care so much for him. It made Jon wonder if Sen felt something like that for the Sait line. Was that why he seemed so invested in Jon having only known him for a few years, and only really having gotten to know him over a couple of months? Before him stood the one being he’d probably ever meet who knew Senfeng better than he could. Maybe that’s why she was entrusting his health to him.

Jon looked at Senfeng. He would never become old. He would never get tired, or starve. But he may suffer the worst fate ever known to a wizard. It didn’t seem like a fair trade off. Looking back at Diana, he nodded. “I will do what you ask.” Jon knew that accepting a request from a Goddess, even informally was the same as a contract. He felt the warmth from her kiss expand within him as he accepted the mantle. He was now the servant of the Avatar of the moon, bound by contract to protect the man who she loved. It was different from human magic somehow. It didn’t feel binding, or forceful. It was ennobling. He felt compelled by some strange kind of virtue, a decision, not a requirement. But he felt it was also a kind of power.

“I can’t stay,” She said looking at the face of the great orb in the sky. It appeared to be unusually close to the earth. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you more.” So was Jon. Her chat had only left him more concerned.

She turned to Senfeng, and kissed him long and sweetly on the lips. “I will see you again, I feel the truth in that. Destiny has not taken that from me.” Jon wondered at her words. It made him think. He almost forgot to pay attention. She had backed to the edge of the balcony. She didn’t stop. She walked through the railing on to the air. She reached out and stroked something that glistened under her touch. Jon realized it must have been Zhao she was petting. Then she faded into a beam of light and was gone.

The three men were silent for a while, staring at the spot where she’d disappeared from, then at the moon, hoping to see her again in its face.

After a few minutes, Talbot silently tugged at Jon’s elbow, nodded towards Senfeng somberly, and then silently motioned they leave him to his thoughts. Jon concurred. Without a word, the two men went inside. For the first time in over a month, Jon closed the doors to the balcony. As he did, he saw Senfeng bend down and pick up the diamond, then return to looking at the moon.

The events that had unfolded should have disheartened Jon. That not even Diana knew anything useful was a big blow to their situation. Somehow though, after what had transpired, Jon didn’t feel disappointed. He felt repurposed. For the first time, he had a goal that extended beyond keeping himself alive. He had a friend to protect, and more than that, the world. The moment he promised to protect Senfeng, he knew he was also promising to stop the Necromancer forever. This was a heavy thought, but with her blessing, it seemed so possible. Jon and Talbot cleaned up dinner in silence, without even discussing the evening, or even recapping the conversation. It seemed unnecessary. Everyone understood what had happened, and what it meant. Why waste the words. They were both lost in thought.

After clean-up, Talbot gave a congenial good night and left. Senfeng still had not returned from outside. Jon understood a little better. Senfeng had cued in to how strongly Diana had felt for him, and without even trying, reciprocated. In a day, he’d fallen in love in a way no other may might ever understand, not even Jon, who alone understood the sensation of living so long, having experienced thousands of years of life in sequence as though they were his own. He felt naïve for thinking it. It wasn’t the same, not really. Apart from the Necromancer, if he was even the same one they feared him to be, there was no one as old as Sen. It must have felt isolating.

Jon waited a while for Senfeng to come back in, but when he didn’t he went out to the balcony to check on him. “You gonna stay out here all night?” Jon asked, already down to his underwear, ready for bed.

“Just a bit longer,” he was silent for a moment, stroking the back of his dragon over the edge of the balcony, not looking back. Jon saw the scales temporarily shine in the wake of Sen’s hand. “I’ll be in in a bit.” He looked a Jon smiling half-heartedly. Jon smiled and nodded without speaking, leaving the door open as he went back inside. He left Sen’s lamp on by his bed and turned out the rest of the lights. Jon laid awake for a while. Senfeng didn’t return inside before Jon fell asleep at a very late hour.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 14: Three Naked Men Riding a Dragon

 

The next morning, Jon woke up feeling more refreshed than he had ever felt. He wondered if it had to do with the Diana’s kiss. He looked over at his friend’s bed. Senfeng wasn’t in it. Jon got up to see if he was in the living room, but as he stood, he saw Senfeng’s hair draped over the back of a lounge chair outside on the balcony. He’d fallen asleep looking at the moon that night. Jon made some coffee and tea, taking Senfeng his morning cup. He was still sound asleep, which was unusual for him at such a late hour. Jon figured he must have been awake for a very long time. He nudged his naked shoulder with his elbow. “Hey. Coffee.” Senfeng groaned responsively, stretching out the cramping of the chair’s awkward position as he slowly looked up at Jon with lazy eyes.

“You alive?” Jon said, holding a cup out to Senfeng. He took it before replying.

“Thanks.” He yawned and stretched out again like a cat. The  swimshorts he was still wearing from the day prior stayed crinkled as his splayed forward.

“Good morning by the way,” Jon smiled.

“Mmmh,” Senfeng returned, having sat his cup on the side table and was now pulling his hair back. Jon was giving him time to really wake up before talking much. He was usually the same way when he first woke.

Once Senfeng had taken several sips of tea, Jon felt free to open discourse.

“You know,” Jon said. “I’m thinking it’s nearly time we left. I think we should do some searching of our own, and I don’t know there’s much more we can learn here.”

He expected Senfeng to disagree. Most likely he say something like, “Well, this is the safest place to learn. We still need to search for answers.” But…

“I think you’re right. There’s nothing else for us to do now but search for the necromancer. We’ve exhausted our other avenues. Every answerable question we’ve got has been answered.” He was right.  He’d wanted to protect his friend from the truth a little longer, but Diana had let the cat out of the bag. Senfeng knew that there was no way for any of them to divine his destiny.

“I’m sorry, Sen.” Jon said.

“For what? He looked him in the face directly for the first time that day.

“For a lot of things. But what I mean to say is I’m sorry I can’t help you find answers.” Jon looked away, ashamed of himself. He’d broken his promise.

“You can’t help that. I knew if there was a way, any way possible, you’d find it.” He smiled at his friend. Jon looked at him again as he spoke. “You even asked the moon for me.” He laughed. Jon did too. They’d definitely exhausted their resources, and still come up short. At least it wasn’t for lack of trying.

“It’s just that I promised you. And after everything you’ve done… I want to help you.” Jon was feeling something besides guild now. It wasn’t pity, or self-loathing. It was different. Remorse?

Senfeng smiled, grabbing Jon’s wrist. “Hey, you did everything you could. That’s all I really wanted. I didn’t really want to know for me anyway.”

Remorse. That was it. The feeling he felt. He’d lost his greatest chance to be helpful, and was in a kind of grief over it. “I know.” He confessed. “I just wanted to do something helpful. I thought if I could help you with this, maybe it would make things a little easier.”

By the time Talbot arrived, Jon and Senfeng already had everything packed up and ready to go. Jon was on the balcony alone, checking in with his familiars. Though there was no real news yet, there were whispers of a group of Necromancers in New York and others in Istanbul, the latter held more weight. Fidele and Jackson were investigating the rumors before going. They were being careful, covering their bases. It was important they weren’t discovered. Three powerful sorcerers showing up in the city wouldn’t likely go unnoticed by anybody who was as powerful as the necromancer. Jon knew how quickly information could spread.

“Oh, are we going then?” Talbot asked in his sing song way. Jon could hear him in the living room all the way out on the balcony, pulling him out of his daydream. He went inside.

“Yes,” Senfeng said, coming in behind Jon. “We’ve learned what we can here, and are well rested. If we need to recoup, we can always return, though it might be as safe the next time.” Jon knew that meant they wouldn’t be back.

“I’ll notify the desk we’ll be checking out then,” Talbot bowed slightly at them and walked over to the phone.

“I know we haven’t discussed it yet,” Jon said. “But where are we going next?” Senfeng had been something like a tour guide on their trip thus far, and Jon had come to expect him to make their travel plans, since he knew more about the modern magical community. In spite of all Jon’s newly gained insights, he was still fairly ignorant to current events.

“Well, I was thinking about that. Perhaps we can discuss it more when Talbot is done on the phone.” Senfeng had no sooner said that than Talbot had hung up the phone up on the receiver. Immediately following the plastic click was a knock at the door. “Oh,” Talbot said. Pursing his lips as he looked at Jon and Senfeng with surprised eyes. He looked like a fruity boy opening a large gift. It was Elizabeth.

“Hello again,” Talbot bowed deeply to the enormous woman, who nodded curtly as she entered. Apparently, she and Talbot had exchanged some discourse during his stay at the spa.

“I heard you’re checking out.” She said addressing Senfeng directly. How did she…

“News travels quickly here,” Senfeng mused to her.

“Only if you’re me.” She retorted, batting of underlying annoyance.

Senfeng smiled anyway. “Yes, we are leaving this morning before noon. We were actually just about to discuss our next destination.” He said looking to his friends.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear you have to leave so soon,” she said courteously to her long-term guests in a very kind but very professional manner. Jon would have expected her to slightly relieved at their going, but to the contrary. She seemed to be masking real regret at their departure. “I had hoped you might stay a bit longer.” Jon thought it odd. They’d stayed so long, he feared they might be intruding at this point.

“Unfortunately, we’ve tapped out our resources for research. No choice really. We’ve got to continue looking for answers,” Jon replied. By this time, Elizabeth had essentially been clued in to everything. “We really can’t thank you enough for your hospitality.”

She shook her head strongly. “It was nothing, really.” She emphasized with an outwards swipe of her hands. “I only wish I could have helped more. You know I owe this man my life several times over.” She was looking at Jon, gesturing with a nod toward Senfeng. Her demeanor was strong. She reminded Jon a little of a nurse with her no-nonsense attitude, but also of a pioneer woman. She carried herself in a strong, self-sufficient way that seemed incredibly down to earth, but still understanding of the importance of a warm home. Jon had come to really like her. She was a good woman, and he understood Senfeng’s defense of her character.

She smiled heartily at Jon as she spoke. “Seriously though,” her expression dropped slightly. “where are you planning to look next? I may be able to ensure you have a safe place to stay at least.”

“That’s very kind,” Sen said to the woman. “Well, we’ve heard there might be a group in Istanbul, but truthfully, before we go there, I think it’d be best if we did as our familiar friends and do some more research before marching into the city. As it is, we know next to nothing of what’s being planned, or who is really involved in this.”

“Mhm …” said the sorceress. “Smart move. Well, I know there is a group of warlocks dealing with some nasty kinds of arts in Istanbul. It’s likely you’ll find information there. It’s a hotbed for dark weaving. We see a lot of people coming for help who’ve run into trouble there.” She grimaced at an apparently grotesque memory. “The network is old in that area, and if you’re careful, I’ve no doubt you should be able to tease out some of the information you need there.”

“That’s incredibly helpful, thank you,” Senfeng said. “Your timing is truly impeccable.” Jon noticed an appraising look on Senfeng’s face.

“Wonderful! its decided then,” Talbot said, clapping his hands together.

“Thank you for your help.” Jon added to her.

“Of course, anytime.” She smiled. “Unfortunately, there’s no safe-houses in Istanbul that I can recommend. The city is so corrupt, and there’s so much magic already in the city, new enchantments are difficult to cast.”

“Naturally,” Sen said. Jon was getting a strange feeling. He started to prod as they dialogued. Oddly, both had put up psychic walls.

“Of course, you might set up camp outside the city. There’s a mountain range sacred to healers near there traditionally used by light magic users. You should find it easy to stay safe there.” She was lying. And doing it very well. Jon could see in in her face. She wasn’t being herself. Something was wrong.

“Wonderful advice,” Senfeng said, looking at Jon and Talbot, who were both trying to hide their suspicion.

“Well,” Jon said, rolling up the sleeves of his white cotton henley. “This is going nowhere quickly.” He knew where the situation was headed. Everyone rounded on him, each with a different expression mingling with their surprise at his gestures. He was already quickly writing in the air with his fingers. A web of blue electricity sprang to life from the light his fingers had left behind. It careened toward Elizabeth, pinning her to the wall.

“Who are you?!” he said, “And where’s the real Elizabeth Hubbard?!” It was easy for Jon to get so nervous that he knew he’d become clumsier if he allowed himself sit on the present situation any longer. He had only just been thinking how much he’d come to like the woman, and now was having to inquire about her to an imposter.

The witch laughed between winces through the electric webbing. Instead of answering, she melted through the wall. Jon looked at Talbot and Sen, who looked grim. “What was tha-“ Jon started.

“Run!” Senfeng yelled before Jon could finish. Without questioning, Jon and Talbot followed him quickly to the balcony. As they reached the bed the living room wall the woman had just disappeared through exploded violently, disintegrating the binding spell Jon had just cast. The woman flew into the room and turned in midair, hovering off the ground as she rounded on them. They kept running, all three jumping off the balcony. Talbot, who was the portliest of them, jumped last, being just missed by a neon colored hex. They landed straddling Zhao’s serpentine back. His body was as big around as a horse. He must have been a traditional Chinese dragon, long and skinny. They had all landed at different sections of the dragon’s coils. As the dragon rose in the air, they spread out.  It blew a ball of fire into the room at the witch. Jon heard her screams dissolve as they rose in altitude. Jon watched the dragon become visible from its head backwards. Its scales seemed to lift and rest back into place as they became corporeal. The effect was cascading like wind rippling through a field of wheat. The dragon’s scales were metallic green and gold. Their patterns were random, chunked, but transitioning slowly from green to gold in sections. The transitional colors were earthy and beautiful. Its beard was solid gold, and its large eyes were human like in shape, with irises the color of jade stone.

Jon was still taking in the beast’s appearance when Senfeng call back to him from up near the head. “Look for Elizabeth!” Jon knew what he meant.

“I’m on it!” He yelled into the air, certain the sound never carried to Sen’s ears. He closed his eyes, his inner vision went fast through the compound, searching for her presence. He found nothing. Wait, there was something. A trace. He was looking in her office. It was bad. He opened his eyes, not wanting to look. Hot wet streaked on his cheeks, turning cold.

“Did you find her?!” Senfeng called, looking back at Jon. Hopefully they were far enough apart for him not to see Jon’s expression.

Jon didn’t answer. “Well!? Did you find her?!” He was more demanding than asking. He was holding the dragon there for an impromptu rescue mission.

“She…” His words got caught in his throat.

“What?!” Senfeng yelled, thinking he wasn’t hearing correctly.

“She’s gone!” Jon’s voice cracked as he spoke. He’d seen it. Her body was on the floor by her desk. She was mangled, and her face was missing. There was blood everywhere. He could sense her traces on the body, confirming it was her, but her spirit had left it.

Senfeng didn’t reply. He turned forward and the Dragon quickly, suddenly, quietly swooped up high into the air. Why wasn’t it silent before? It doesn’t matter. As the beast rose higher, Senfeng rose to his feet, balancing easily behind the ivory horns of his familiar. He didn’t look back at Jon for a long time. Eventually, Talbot had made the long trek from the back end of Zhao’s tail. He’d wiggled on his butt all the way forward. Jon wasn’t sure if he’d heard what he’d told Sen.

“Elizabeth … Is …” Talbot put his hand on Jon’s shoulder. He knew. Jon’s eyes were burning again. Why was this affecting him so hard? He’d barely known her. After several hours, they had reached the Atlantic. The dragon was fast, and there was some kind forcefield surrounding them. They couldn’t even feel the wind as they flew. Jon figured he might be able to stand as well, since it seemed so easy for Sen. He made to stand, but the dragon lurched beneath him oddly, causing him to fall back down, hugging its body. Apparently only Senfeng had license to stand on him. The dragon picked up on his intentions though, and with a strange undulation on its body slid Jon and Talbot forward towards the its head.

“I wish the beast had done that sooner,” said Talbot, who spent over an hour inching forward from its back end.

There was little dialogue during their Journey. Jon wasn’t sure where they were headed. “So where are we going then?” It felt strange to break the silence with such a nominal sound question, but Jon felt it wasn’t a good time to address the situation with Elizabeth.

“Istanbul,” Senfeng said curtly.

“But she was an imposter. She was probably trying to lead us in to a trap!” Jon said, worried at the poor decision his friend was making. Maybe he was too distressed to think straight. He’d not known his friend to behave so rashly before. He didn’t think it was even possible for him act in such an emotionally connected way.

“I know that. But she wanted us to go there for a reason. I want to find out what that was. If it was an ambush, we’ll be ready now.” Besides, she was right. I had already been considering the city. There is an order of Warlocks there who practice a plethora of dark magic. It’s likely we will learn something there. She wasn’t lying about that bit. Remember I said the best deceptions are hidden in the truth.”

Jon recalled. He submitted to the rationale and sat back for the ride, choosing to lay back for the rest of the journey, wishing he’d had time to dress. In spite of the barrier between them and the elements, there was still a twinge of chill in the air, and underwear alone weren’t doing the trick. Hopefully sleeping would serve as a good distraction from the chill and everything else. He had a feeling Zhao wouldn’t let him fall, whatever happened, so he had no fear of tumbling off as he dozed. He kicked back and closed his eyes. By the time he was finally drifted off to sleep, they had been flying for over six hours, and Jon was both fatigued and hungry.

#

He woke to an unpleasant smell, and a gust of hot humid air. He opened his eyes to see the dragon peering down at him, looking oddly dog like, but grumpy. It was blowing hot foul breath onto him trying to wake him. Apparently in this form, he didn’t speak. Jon recalled Senfeng saying he preferred dragon form. Maybe he looked down on humans…

The dragon, seeing Jon was awake, convulsed and the part of its back that Jon was laying on thrust upward, throwing Jon into the air. He was too surprised to catch his fall and hit the ground with a crash from about six feet up. It hurt.

Talbot chuckled from nearby. He walked over and helped Jon up. As he rose, he tried to right his vision. “Where are we exactly?” Jon asked, still seeing spots.

“On the outskirts, just North of the city,” Talbot said. It was nearly dark, and Senfeng had already got a fire going. Jon sense they were in a safe place. There was a lot of strong magic here. He could feel it. How much was there when they arrived and how much had been put there by his friends was difficult to tease out, but he could sense much of it was old magic working. It was just as the false Elizabeth had described. Jon wondered if it was like that all over around the city. It was the oldest inhabited city on earth. Jon figured it only made sense that the layers and layers of construction must have been imbued with a lot of weavings throughout history.

He walked over to Senfeng, who was looking at the city lights. They were in the mountains near a large lake, which was really more of an inlet than anything, on the outskirts of the city. Jon silently hoped it wasn’t the same place the witch had described, though he’d effectively stopped her discourse before she’d got to the finer points of her directions.  The vantage point offered a beautiful view. They could look to their left and see the water while to their right, they could look at the Mediterranean city. The warm air was cool and salty, but Jon could also smell the dinge of pollution.

Neither of them said anything. They just looked out. Jon knew Elizabeth was special to him. He felt sorry for his friend. He put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. Senfeng sighed, and continued to look down at the earthbound starlight of the city streets. He looked up at the rising moon. Jon felt something inside him surge as he looked at the moon, now in the first stages of its waning. Jon felt Diana’s sadness reaching out to Senfeng. He squeezed his friends shoulder. How could they have got in unnoticed? The spa was protected. Wasn’t it?

Sen finally broke his silence. “When I met Elizabeth, she had been possessed. She was a young witch in Salem. The demon was the familiar of her father, a warlock posing as a doctor. He was collecting the souls of witches in the area. He had adopted her when her real father had died. She was forced to accuse a lot of people of witchcraft. Some of the people weren’t even magical. An enchantress living nearby sent for me. I removed the demon, and killed the doctor. But the familiar turned on her when he died. There was no one to control the possession that she was under. We dueled. It was chaotic, and she was already so strong. I severed her from the demon, and the enchantress helped me save her. She was a healer, and she took Elizabeth in. She ultimately learned her craft from that woman.”

“So that’s the story.” Jon said, glad his friend was talking. “she said more than once that she owed you a lot. Did you really help her more than once? I know the imposter said you did…” Jon hoped this wasn’t inappropriate to say.

“I did. About two hundred years later, I received another summons. This time it was from her, not the enchantress. The healer had fallen into the black arts. She was incredibly powerful, the strongest witch in the Americas. But she’d begun to work voodoo and other dark powers into her weavings. It stained her. She began to take communion with dark spirits and visit covens. She’d been so against that in the past. To this day I don’t understand what caused her to change. Elizabeth has never spoken about it, I suppose for respect of her mentor.”

“When Elizabeth caught on to the change, the enchantress imprisoned her, and began syphoning off her power. She kept her just alive enough to act as a conduit. When she had the chance, she snuck a message to me. Just that small bit of magic nearly killed her.” He took a bracing breath.

Jon looked at Sen, he was crying silently. Apart from the wet running down his face, you wouldn’t have known. He hadn’t changed a bit in appearance, not even his expression. Senfeng continued. “when I found her, she was barely breathing. I killed the enchantress.” He looked at Jon. “I know that sounds extreme, but that’s just how witches and warlocks were dealt with back then. You just killed them.” He laughed. “I say that like anything’s changed.” He chuckled ruefully. “It’s what I’ve always done.” His expression when cold and blank.

“She really cared for you.” Jon hoped it would help. “It was all over her face. She would have done anything for you.” Jon pursed his lips, thinking he wasn’t helping.

Senfeng drew a hard, bracing breath, suring himself against the threat of tears. He looked down from the moon and wiped his cheek. “Thanks Jon. For listening. It helped.”

Jon knew it was about more than just losing his friend. Senfeng was old, and he was tired. He’d always been fighting. It seemed to come with the territory of his kind of weaving. But Jon wondered something. “Did you know, what your life was going to be like? When you made the contract?”

Senfeng furrowed his brow, thinking. “Not entirely. But I also knew I didn’t know. I tried not to go into it with any real expectations. It needed to be done.”

“Why did you do it?” Jon asked. Senfeng had never really spoken about his reasons. He remembered making the contract with Senfeng. Having looked into the past, he’d seen that Senfeng had been the one who approached the Order with the idea. The head at the time knew the order needed protecting. “I mean, why did it need to be you? Couldn’t someone else, some other powerful wizard have done it?”

“It was my destiny.” He said nonchalantly. Jon had heard that phrase more than he was comfortable with, and it was giving him ideas. He was starting to dislike destiny, whatever it was.

“How did you know?” At this point Jon was more making conversation out of curiosity, and less out of interest for Sen’s well-being. Not that he wasn’t concerned, but something about this seemed important.

“Before he became a necromancer, the son of the first Sait came to me. He’d already begun dabbling in dark weaving. That was why he was expelled from the Order.” Jon knew, he’d seen it. He didn’t say anything though, letting Sen speak.

“At that point, he was becoming desperate. He as afraid of what he was becoming. He came looking for help. I performed a cleansing ritual with him, to purify his soul of the dark weavings he’d cast. He was pretty far gone by that point, but we managed it. It took several sessions, and it nearly killed him.” Senfeng was looking down at the city, his brow was fraught with serious-mindedness. “When he was cleansed, he offered to do a seeing as a form of payment for helping him. With balance in mind I accepted, though I hadn’t really felt the need to know my destiny.” Senfeng’s expression went from serious to dark. “That’s when he told me the choice I was going to make.” The moment he told me, I understood. It was what made the most sense. If I had done it over a thousand times, even without knowing the truth, I would have made the same decision. It was right.” He shook off his expression, and looked at Jon with a resigned smile.

“Do you think it may have been a trap?” Jon asked.

“No, he had genuinely wanted to change. He was at least temporarily reformed. It didn’t last long though. He had a passion for revenge that spread like a toxin in his heart. He hated his father, who had already died and his brother who he wished dead. His hatred bled back into his crafting and weaving. And when he fell the second time, he resigned himself to it. I tried to stop him …  Of course, he didn’t attempt to take the House of Sait for some hundreds of years after his brother had passed.” Jon hadn’t realized he had such a personal history with the Necromancer.

“Dinner is served!” Talbot cut into the conversation. He’d made dinner over a fire. With the help of magic, it wasn’t like a camping meal at all, but in fact was an incredible spread. It reminded him of the food back at the chateau, when he wasn’t fasting or preparing for a ritual.

As they ate, Jon had pulled out the orb absentmindedly. Talbot had been quick witted enough when they fled the resort to magic their belongings into his invisible bag as they bolted for the balcony. When they’d landed, he’d appropriately disseminated their belongings. Jon rolled the orb in his hands as he ate, half thinking about what Senfeng had told him, half thinking about how to fix his home.

After eating, Jon exchanged his underwear for pajama bottoms, since it was after two in the morning. Afterwards, they finished setting up the tents Talbot had brought with him. It took them the remainder of the evening to put everything in order. Following setting up their beds, they went down to the for a bath. There was still a while before dawn. Jon hoped it would be safe, knowing there were dangerous wizards in the area. “It will be fine,” said Senfeng. I don’t sense any negative energies nearby. That’s why I chose this spot.

After some more convincing, and finally accepting Sen’s word, Jon was the still last in the water. Senfeng was right. Nothing happened and Jon felt his nerves ease off after a few minutes. The water was warm, like a bath. He laid back, floating on his back. He listened to the quiet sound of the water against his ears. The still quiet was serene, and the stars were more familiar here, he noticed, looking up at the sky. He felt peaceful. He noted how ironic that was considering what they’d just been through that morning. He slowly raised his arms up, back-stroking in whatever direction he was already pointed it. He could hear the muffled sounds of his arms rising in and out of the water. He bumped into something soft. He righted himself, suddenly alert. He’d run into Senfeng’s back.

“Whoops. Sorry. He laughed.” Senfeng looked at him for a moment, saying nothing. Jon didn’t understand his silence. Suddenly, he bounded on him, tackling him into the water. It caught Jon by surprise. Breaking free, he clambered to overcome his opponent. Making it to the surface, Jon gasped for air, and put Senfeng’s head under his armpit, holding him under the water. Unexpectedly, Senfeng rose up anyway, with greater strength than Jon had thought possible without magic. Jon was totally out of the water, locked in a hold by Senfeng, who was holding his arm and leg. Sen Jumped backwards with a “Haaaah!”, wrestle mania style. Jon started to yell in surprise as he was thrown back, with Senfeng’s weight boring down from above, holding him under. That settled it. The match was over. Jon let go and free floated like a shocked frog. He felt a hand grab his arm and pull him up. Senfeng was laughing as Jon’s head rose out of the water. His hair was a mess in his face. Jon laughed too. Talbot was chuckling, but obviously glad not to be part of the chaos. He’d backed away several feet. Sen hooked Jon around the neck and squeezed a little, letting go, chuckling. Jon felt the stress of the recent months melting off him with as the waters calmed from their wrestling match. He struggled with the idea of whether it was okay to be having fun now or not, considering what happened at the resort with Elizabeth, and the knowledge they were being followed, and successfully at that.

Senfeng punched Jon in the arm, pulling him out of concentration, then took a deep breath and collapsed backwards, floating belly up, breathing calmly. Jon watched his friend float in circles, his smile slowly relaxing into a peaceful quiet. It was good to see him seeming more carefree. It was the most genuine expression he could recall seeing on Senfeng that hadn’t been melancholic.

Knowing he probably couldn’t hear, without turning from his friend, he asked Talbot, “You think he’s okay?”

“I think he’s as good as we can expect for now.” Talbot said breast stroking over to speak in confidence. Jon sunk down into the water for warmth.

“I guess that’ll have to be good enough for now then.” Jon reached out and pulled Sen’s big toe. He stuck his head up. “let’s be done. Its late.” And he turned to get out of the water.

“You’re right,” Sen said, still backstroking. He stayed like he was for a moment, then flipped over, swimming quickly to catch up as Jon got most of the way to shore. They air dried on the way back to their camp. Jon was shivering as they walked to their tents.

As he laid down, he considered what they’d just been through in the last 48 hours. Senfeng’s long-time friend was dead. They’d been uprooted unexpectedly again; granted, they were planning to leave anyway. Jon was now in service to the moon to better protect the man who was sworn to protect him. And, said moon was now in the throes of romance with Senfeng. The details of their obligations were becoming hazy. Who was protecting who, and from what? They’d been through so much, and still had so few answers, but they did know one thing. They were being tracked down by someone who wanted them dead.

Jon could only conclude the Necromancer was behind it. He had no other enemies he could name, and nearly all the wizards who knew him were members of his order, and they were magically bound to loyalty. Hang on … They’d been operating alone this whole time. But they were bound by their oath. They’d all made faith contracts with him. If he wasn’t mistaken, something like that might work as a point of contact. After-all they must still all be out there. If he could his contract to communicate with his familiars, it might be possible to communicate with everyone else in a similar way. He decided to try to work out a way to do it in the morning, when it wasn’t an ungodly hour. The idea felt like striking gold. They had a lot of available help, potentially. He could use the seers as an informant network to get the edge on the necromancers. He suddenly felt a shift in his hopes. He only wished one of them had thought of it sooner. Things were looking up.

He was now far too excited to sleep. He sat up and took out the chateau’s orb from a subspace portal. He’d realized how handy it was to have access to an invisible space you’d created for yourself. Both Senfeng and Talbot had them, so Jon had figured out the trick and made one for himself. He’d been fidgeting with the orb recently, trying to regain control of the objects interior. Whatever had happened in there had been done and over for some time. He’d magicked the loop to only affect the actual castle, so any person’s remaining inside would continue forward in time. This meant they’d be blown up over and over again, receiving more injuries every time, provided they’d survived any prior explosions. Every avenue of escape was blocked, and there were barriers up against teleportation and time manipulation. If Dan had been in there, he’d be little more than charred bones by now. Though he was pretty sure he’d made his escape anyway. Regardless, the loop had served whatever purpose it ever would and it was time to put the castle back in order, if not back to life size just yet.

He decided to try to perform a reading on the orb to create a mental map of the spells, so he could try to unravel them one by one while keeping the castle inside the barrier. He held the ball with both hands and closed his eyes. He had become adept at trances and could slip in and out of them at will. He slipped into one with little effort. He could feel the barriers around the castle. They’d been woven by over 20 casters, using pattern and weavings known only to his order. Normally such spells would serve to keep outsiders from developing a counter jinx to break through the barriers. He knew it would be difficult to undo alone, but for the moment, that was working in his favor, they were containing the damage to the sphere. He knew he’d have to sift through them to look for loopholes in the magic that might let trespassers in, but that was an exercise better committed to with additional eyes, namely Talbot and Senfeng. He decided to move beyond that, and check into dealing with the explosion. He could sense the overarching enchantment, as well as the time loop, wound around the castle grounds like a ball of yarn. Beyond that, he could feel the explosion curses he’d written on the walls and doors and windows. Each was in a key structural point, and there were over thirty of them. He’d put especially nasty spells on the floors in the center of most of the main rooms as well, to increase the effects of the explosion. He’d wanted to reduce anyone’s chances of escape, though he had mixed feelings about that failure. He was frustrated he hadn’t stopped his enemy, but it was still Dan after all.

He was trying to decide whether it would be better or even possible to undo the explosion magic first when his thoughts were interrupted.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 15: Campfire Songs With Warlocks

“Master,” he was ripped away from his vision. Before his mind’s eye stood the man-bird Fidele. Jon hadn’t expected him to contact him so late. It was alarming.

“Yes, what is it?” Jon asked. There was urgency in the familiar’s tone. “Did you find anything?”

“Yes, but something’s happened.” Fidele said. He sounded unusually feeling. Normally, nothing seemed to bother him, or ruffle him emotionally. In fact, thus far, exempting when they first battled, the bird had always seemed deadpan and sarcastic.

“Show me.” Jon said, and instantly his inner sight was filled with the bird’s surroundings. He was flying in the air, far above the ground. Below, there was a large bon-fire. It was a wooded area. “Where is this?” Jon asked.

“It’s in the Catskills, in New York.” Jon took a moment and felt out the distance and direction the familiar was currently from Jon’s position.

“What’s going on down there?” Jon was filling up with question. “Why are you showing me this?” Jon demanded.

“It’s a Sabbath. You’re looking at a coven of witches and warlocks. They’re performing a summoning, to control a spirit. They’re necromancers.” That perked Jon’s ears, or mind, or whatever it was that he was using to listen.

“Where is Jackson?” Jon asked. He was worried.

“They summoned him. He’s bound on the dais by the fire. They’re going to burn him and consume his spirit.” The words sounded bitter coming out the spirits mouth.

“I’ll summon him back.” He could feel Jackson’s presence, but calling him back was like speaking into a small empty room. There was no response, and the magic command fell like a stone in water. “I can’t get him to respond. We have to stop this.” Jon said, thinking wildly. I need you to create a distraction, anything you can think of. I’m going to transfer take over Jackson’s body and get him out of there.” Jon could sense Fideles’ agreement, as he continued to soar above the scene, circling the convection cell the fire’s heat created. “Wait for my say-so.”

Jon called out to Jackson’s presence again, this time with more power, and reaching more with his own spirit then commanding a response. It was similar to doing a finding. It took longer than it should have to get a response. There had been a border put around him, preventing communication between them. He sensed the source. They had enchanted the fire. It was creating a temporary barrier. Jon found a weak point in the weaving and went straight to Jackson’s spirit. “Jackson! Are you okay!?” Jon called out.

Jackson appeared before him, looking sedated. His energy had been sapped a bit already. “They’re taking it. I feel smaller.” He said. He had sounded weak, and Jon could feel his energy draining as well. He needed to act fast.

“I’m going to get you out of there, but you have to trust me okay?” Jackson’s shade nodded, and Jon set to work.

He felt himself enter into Jackson’s body, taking over. The sensation was strange, and foreign, but he had decent control. There was nothing he could liken the experience to. It was like a new life. He felt surreal. If he had to compare it anything, it was like being in a lucid dream.

He felt the effects of the bindings. His physical body was tied up, but there was also something like magical chains written into the ropes. It bound their spirits from escaping. Most likely it was a spell that could’ve been broken by anyone why wasn’t bound by it. Jon was learning that there were usually ways around that though.

The necromancers hadn’t seemed to sense the new presence inside the barrier, or even noticed it had been breached. There were a lot of people, all half-naked with black hoods over their heads, covering their faces. The scene looked primeval. Jon could sense a slight sapping from his energy. He was losing magic through his connection with Jackson. It was probably only due to their connection that his familiar was even still alive. Then Jon realized something else. His familiar was outside the barrier, and he couldn’t cast magic to reach him while bound. He also couldn’t exit Jackson’s body. He had trapped himself within his own familiar.

This was bad. He was tied up and couldn’t weave. His plans were shot, and he might die, all because he hadn’t thought the situation through. He watched the crowd that stood around the dais. Each person was enacting a pulling motion. They were literally ripping Jackson’s and Jon’s life forces from their bodies, absorbing them into their own.

Jon looked up, he could see the eyes of the necromancer conducting the ritual. He was on their right side. The fire was to their left. His eyes were solid white, reminding him of a dead fish. From below, the man seemed very tall and strong, which didn’t make Jon feel good. Even if he wriggled free, if they were spiritually weakened, he might need to resort to physical resistance. It wasn’t looking good. Jon was feeling around with magic, he was being contained, but not doused. His magic was still in operation, just being blocked from leaving the confines of the rope. Then he realized something, if their magic was being sapped, there must be a point of extraction woven into the binding curse. He also realized that he might be able to do a reading on the rope itself and unlock the enchantment, if he could only move his body. He couldn’t do it without being able to move his hands and perform a weaving. But if their presences were being drawn into others, then just maybe …

Jon went for it, following the channel in his mind of where Jackson’s spirit was being extracted to. At the moment, none of his energies had been extracted, they had only gone into Jackson. Jon took a leap of faith. Being careful not to allow himself to be divided, and made a jump. He felt himself let go of his familiar, creating a spiritual bridge in his wake as a way back. He had to stay connected to his body. It was dangerous extending one’s self through a secondary vessel into a third, and even more dangerous if it wasn’t via contract or permission. Jon didn’t know what would happen. If his connection to his body was severed, he would die.

He felt out the weakest mind in the group, and dove in. It was easy to overcome, the person didn’t even see it coming, and no one noticed the possession happening. Suddenly Jon was a greasy, hooded figure. He felt less skinny than he had inside Jackson, but the man’s mind was much slower. It made the body more difficult to control. Jon had to orient himself quickly. He was running out of time, and energy as well. He was still being leached.

He moved fast, literally blowing a hole of light through the invisible dome shrouding the ritual. It would have to serve as signal enough. It worked. In an instant, the bird crashed into the fire, dousing it. Jon felt the flow of energy leaving him ebb. Jon was thankful it had only been a spiritual barrier, not preventing physical entry. Everything went dark. There was screaming and chaos. The ceremony had stopped, at least for the moment. He could barely see, but he could sense his familiar. He ran forward, quickly dispelling the binding. It was an easy counter spell. Typically, a spell like that didn’t need to be hard to undo from outside, since the presumed threat was contained within. Jackson was free to move again. Jon was helping him rise.

Bam! Suddenly the blue-black of night was filled with large white stars. He’d been struck hard on the side of his face. He tried to shake it off. He felt something hot running down the side of his head. He rounded on the source, letting out a blast of energy. It shot white hot into the chest of the tall hooded figure. It was the conductor. Jon felt a strange chill looking at him. “Let’s Go! Jon yelled back at Fidele who had become something very large and was throwing and stepping on warlocks and witches in quick succession. Thank God he’s on my side.

Fidele looked briefly at Jon, and nodded. He was a large version of the birdman with arms that were half wings as well. Jon instantly returned to Jacksons body, and turned to see the large dark man weaving quickly. The work seemed to glow inversely, sapping what small light there was in the clearing. Jon didn’t wait to see what he was magicking. He Jumped with unnatural force into the air, and was caught by Fidele. He was holding on to his back. The esper had become over twice the size of a normal man, and was going so fast that in seconds they were miles from the scene. Jon was worried they might be followed. “Can you make a portal!? Jon asked. He’d never tried, and didn’t want to risk screwing it up.

“Yes.” The bird said in Jon’s mind. Oh yeah, they didn’t have to yell.

“I’m going to show you where we’ve set up camp. Take us there. I’m returning to my body now, hold onto Jackson.” When he felt Fidele’s arms reach back and grab hold of him, Jon returned instantly to his own body. He threw on a pair of pants. And ran from his tent. “Wake up! He yelled, we’ve got trouble!” As soon as he’d said it, Fidele stepped out of thin air. He had two sets of arms, one reached behind him, holding onto Jackson.

Jon magicked a fire and helped lay Jackson down. As he did, Talbot and Senfeng came running from their tents. Talbot was wearing striped pajamas.

“He needs help, he said to the others.” They’ve drained a lot of his spirit already. Jon picked up Jackson’s head, and rested it in his lap. “Hang on, we’re going to help you.”

“It feels strange.”  Jackson said. “I’m so dizzy.” His speech was slurred. This didn’t look good.

Talbot crouched down next to them, and Jon vaguely noticed Senfeng Casting protective boundaries like crazy in the background. As Jon looked to Talbot, he put his hand to the boy’s head. “His spirit is weak, and the binding that links him to his vessel is damaged.” Jon was shocked. It must have happened when they sucked out his spirit. How did you fix something like that? Even if he did fix it, could Jackson be restored. Had he lost part of himself? His mind raced. There must be an answer for this. Think! Think! This wasn’t getting him anywhere.

“What’s going to happen to him?” Jon asked Talbot as the man ran his hands across the air over Jackson’s body.

“I’ve come across spirits like this before. Once part of their essence has been taken into another being, it ceases to be part of them. They literally lose part of themselves. Their consciousness becomes malformed. It can’t be undone.” Talbot looked at Jon as he said it. “I’m sorry my friend. Even if we can save him, he will never be the same.”

Jon looked down at Jackson. “How are you feeling?” He asked, hoping to hear a new, different answer.

“It’s like I’m swimming. Swimming. Swimming.” Jon swelled with fear and guilt. He’d sent him on that mission, against Talbot’s advice. How did this happen? He’d protected his name… How had they summoned him? This shouldn’t have been possible.

No. He was Jackson’s master. These people didn’t have the right to take him from him. He could fix the binding, somehow, even if it meant making a new contract. Maybe he could give Jackson a new form? He could do a remaking. Maybe. But he’d still be less than he was. Jon couldn’t accept that. He hadn’t saved the boy only to have worse done to him a second time.

Then a though struck. He loved these strokes of insight. They felt like gifts. What if he could restore the missing pieces of Jackson’s soul? There were what, twenty or so lower level warlocks and witches back at the Sabbath? If the contract was damaged, that might mean that the parts of Jon they took still bore traces of his spell work, which meant he could still establish a connection with them, though perhaps not perfectly. He might at least be able to locate their current whereabouts and take them back. Jon did a seeking. He was right! He could sense traces of the contract in random places, though none of the magic was complete enough for him to transfer his presence to. If he wanted to do something, he’d have to act quickly.

“Talbot, is it possible to put a torn soul back together again?” Jon asked.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. I don’t know whether it’s even been attempted.

“Well, it’s about to be.” Jon said, setting Jackson’s head on the ground gently. “I need the two of you to stabilize him for now. His bonds cannot be broken from the vessel before I return do you understand?”

“That’s insane. You would have to go to whoever took his soul and rip it out of them. It’s completely unheard of,” Sen protested. “Besides, do you even know where the rest of his soul is, or who even has it?”

“Actually, I do.” Jon admitted. I was there. I had to possess on of the ritual participants.

“One of them?!” Sen was surprisingly upset at this. “Just how many people were involved in this??” He looked piercingly at Jon.

“Well, by a rough count, I’d say about 25 … or so.” Jon admitted sheepishly.

“And you think you can just waltz up to 25 warlocks or whoever and just reach inside their head, and rip out the pieces of Jackson they stole?! Do you know how crazy that sounds?”

“I do. But there isn’t any other choice. Look at him Senfeng! I can’t let him live like this for however many thousands of years I might walk this earth. We already knew there might be some necromancers working in groups. This isn’t going to be easy. I have to do it fast.” He said, steeling himself to his fears.

“Well, if you really are to do this,” Talbot said, “You’ll have to do it more than fast.” As the soul is absorbed, it begins to assimilate. The soul that takes it in digests it, assimilating the magic.” You must either accept Jackson as a permanently damaged familiar or do something now.” He looked almost angrily at Jon. But Jon didn’t sense his anger was all directed at Jon himself, more at the situation they were forced into. His anger became Jon’s as well, fueling him.

“How long does that take?” Jon asked. Dread flooded his brain.

“It depends on how powerful the wizard is, and how much magic they cast,” Talbot said. “It can take hours, or years. If they never need to tap the power from the soul, it can just sit there, though there’s no telling if or when that that would be the case with any of these people.”

That made the operation riskier. He would have to do this without allowing them to engage in any sort of fight. If that happened, there was no telling if they end up using part of Jackson’s power. Jon stood. He reached into thin air and extracted a text. He leafed through it, finding what he was looking for. He quickly reviewed it, and decided the best way to learn was trial by fire, given the situation. He had never traveled by portal on his own before.

“I’m going now,” he said re-shelving the text into nothingness. He had the theory. Hopefully he would be able to get it right the first time. He waved his hand in front of him, making subtle motions with his fingers, and focusing hard. He felt the invisible door open; he stepped through.

#

Suddenly he was behind the person whose body he’d invaded. Without hesitation, he grabbed the sides of his head. He stunned the man. Quickly he groped his mind, finding the piece of Jackson’s soul. The warlock had already begun to use the soul. Jon had figured the weakest people would tap Jackson’s power the quickest, wanting to cast more powerful magic. He ripped the soul fragment carefully. He had to work fast. Magic done, he opened his eyes, and disappeared through a new portal before the man could see what had hit him.

He was at the next person. There were three together, all from the group. He cast a freezing spell. All motion around him stopped. He went into their minds, one by one, freeing the fragments. There was no time to send it back to Jackson as he went. He was off to the next fragment, then the next. He dropped the necromancers in quick succession, catching them all by surprise.

There were two souls left. No one had gone far from the Sabbath site, save a few. But these two were still right in the camp by the fire judging by his perception of Jackson’s soul’s location. This was going to be tricky. It was the large man who’d been leading the ritual. He’d waited to attack him intentionally, building his confidence, also he was working his way up the strength ladder. But something was strange. The other person was familiar. Dan? No. It can’t be.

It was. How hadn’t he noticed him earlier? Perhaps he’d been too preoccupied. Though Jon figured he might have clued in to his presence at the tail end of the Sabbath when he took over the warlock’s body. Jon was leery, but had to move fast. He couldn’t linger where he’d just frozen his most recent quarry.

He took three quick deep breaths, and went for it. He was already weaving when he came through the portal. He caught them off guard, but just barely. He sent a binding web that threw them up against a tree. He froze them in time, entering their consciousness’s. He went into Dan first. The young man resisted. He had a sharp mind. Jon had anticipated it might be hard when he saw him, knowing his skills as a seer. After a struggle against becoming imprisoned himself, he whispered in his mind. “I’m sorry,” to his betrayer. He felt Dan scream inside himself. There wasn’t time to linger, to resolve their conflict peaceably if possible. He left his mind, guilt surging inside him over everything that had transpired between them.

Turning to the large necromancer, he put his hands on his head. It was a trap. He entered the man’s mind, but was suddenly stiff mentally, hardly able to register his environment. He felt the man’s spirit engulf him like a cage. Shiiiiiiiiit. He still hadn’t restored Jackson’s spirit. If he died here, Jackson would go on forever, addled and incomplete. He couldn’t let that happen; that or anything else these people would certainly do if he failed.

The unexpected power shift had caught him off guard, he couldn’t grasp what was happening. The necromancer was running in circles around him. And something else was strange as well. There seemed to be more than one presence in this mind, among many fragments of souls, there were a multitude of dark spirits encircling him. He was inside a cage. They’d begun sapping him. He tried to see past them, but was unable to. He could sense Jackson just beyond the border the spirits had made. He could also sense the necromancer behind it as well, focusing his energies on the soul. Jon struggled inside himself to get free. Nothing worked.

A flash of light blinded him, suddenly he was in his own body, soaring through the air, free falling. He hit a tree sideways, winding him. Which way was up? There were too many changes too fast. Jon was fried, like being drunk.

Gasping for breath he looked around wildly for the necromancer. The man was on the ground. Dan was collapsed in a heap, but Jon could see him breathing.  About five feet from him, Jon saw the source of the assault. Talbot was there. Jon was relieved. he’d been overcome this time, unable to finish the job.

“Now! While, he’s still in shock!” Jon heard his friend say. He closed his eyes, making the connection with Jackson, boring through the warlock’s consciousness like a disease. Jon felt the man’s body jolt with the invasion. Now he had the upper hand. He created a barrier against the spirits and the necromancer. Jon was controlling everything now. He violently cut out Jackson’s spirit from the slight attachment the warlock had begun to weave. He’d already used some of his magic. Jon extracted the piece, knowing he’d damaged the necromancer some in the process.  Hopefully the fragment was still in-tact.

He vacated the man’s mind as quickly as he could, leaving the mental prison in place. Jon was sure it wouldn’t hold for long.  “I’ve got it!” Jon shouted to Talbot rising as quickly as possible with his friends help. Talbot quickly opened a portal and guided them through.

They emerged back at camp. Talbot was quick to force the portal to disengage. Normally, they disappeared after a second or two. But a necromancer might be able to send a spirit after them if they didn’t seal it off right away.

Jon stumbled to Jackson’s body, his mind was heavy now from carrying an additional consciousness, however incomplete. They’d taken more than Jon had initially thought. He was holding on to the bulk of Jackson’s spirit. The remaining bit in the vessel was nearly as much a fragment as the pieces Jon had just rescued.

The three men set to work, wasting no time. The fight was over, but now they had an entirely new problem to deal with. How did you put a soul back together?

Senfeng was at Jackson’s left side. He was beginning to weave Jackson’s soul throughout his body. Jon was at his head while Talbot took Jackson’s right side. Jon Put his hands to the side of his Jackson’s temples and, closing his eyes, went into a trance.

He could see their spirits. Looking down at Jackson, he saw his fragmented soul. He still looked like himself, but he looked shaky and distorted, fainter than he should have. Jon released the fragments of his spirit he was holding on to. They siphoned out from him into Jackson’s face like quicksilver. Jon was awesome and gross at the same time. It was a miracle that shouldn’t have had to happen. To reorder a spirit that had been torn apart. It reminded him of surgery. As the liquid fragments pooled into Jackson, Jon felt them slowly drift into place, flowing throughout his vessel guided by Senfeng’s direction. Talbot was holding the vessel stable as the events took place. He watched him hold the body down with both his body and spirit, sending his own energy into the boy, strengthening him for the events unfolding. Jon watched as the esper became opaquer, and stable, shining more brightly.

As the spirit received the last fragments of self, he spoke. “Jon,” I can feel it. “It’s hard to hold on.” Jon noticed it too. The spirit was no longer shaking, but was mostly being held to his vessel by Talbot and Senfeng. His spirit seemed to rock in and outside his body, like waves on a beach. Jon understood. While he had been restored, the contract was still fractured in pieces. His bonds to his body were loosening. It was time for Jon to get to work.

He opened his eyes and called to the spirit, summoning Jackson to reform the fractured contract. “Jackson, I unbind you from our current contract, but call you again to remake what was lost.”

Jackson lifted outside the vessel, becoming physically visible. Senfeng and Talbot looked up, watching the scene. “I’m here, and will hear you.” He said, hovering above what was once his body.

“As you are, your name is known, and unsafe. To protect you, I have to rename you.” Jon looked at his friend. “Do you understand what this means?”

Jackson nodded. “I will be remade.”

“Do you accept these terms? To be reordered, as a new creation, a familiar in service to myself, the Lord Sait?” Jon knew this was an opportunity for Jackson to really be free, to go into the blue waters beyond the gate, and let go of the tangible. But Jon knew it was also a risk. Necromancers knew his name now. Until they were all dead, Jackson might not be safe, they could call on him again, and drain him until there was nothing left but a shade.

“Twice you’ve saved me,” Jackson said, looking at Jon. “We both know it’s not safe, but there is more for me here, I can feel it. I readily enter into your service once again, as your familiar.” Jon nodded, taking his consent. As they had spoken, gold and silver writing had left Jackson’s lips, ready for Jon to submit his terms. This was out of order. Usually a spirit waited for the contracting wizard to weave. None the less, Jon began to write in the air as he spoke, his words leaving his mouth and Joining the writing of his finger-work. The spell began to merge, enwrapping the magician, the esper, and the vessel.

 As Jackson began to settle into the body, Jon was finishing his casting. The last part was to call his new name. “Jackson Niyol, I give you a new name. From now onward, you are Lueur.” The words leaving his mouth became a circle of weaving between the esper and the vessel. As Jackson passed through it, his light turned from the silver Jon now associated with spirits to a glowing golden radiance, filling the atmosphere with heat. He sunk into the body, and was quiet.

There was an obligatory silence. The moment felt sacred, not to be disturbed. Jon began to cry silently, in part from the stress, but mostly from relief from the fear that had been consuming him over the last hour. Overwhelmed would have been an understatement. Trauma felt more applicable. He dropped his head to the chest of the familiar and sobbed into his shirt, clutching his shoulders. It wasn’t that he had now saved the boy’s life twice, it was that he had put the boy at risk twice. Because of him, the boy was nearly destroyed. How many times would this happen.

Senfeng and Talbot sat in silence, observing, but not intruding Jon’s penance. He felt Jackson stir beneath him. Jon sat up to give him space, wiping his face of tears and mucus with his arm. He wasn’t embarrassed, just relieved that Jackson - no Lueur - was okay.

As Lueur righted himself, Fidele returned to crow form and alighted onto his shoulder. Was this his idea of a hug? Or maybe just a convenient perch. As they rose, Jon took in the warmth of the fire. Maybe that was what had inspired Jackson’s new name. He’d just said what came instinctively, much as he had when he gave the Trickster his new identity. Lueur was a new person now, with a change in his very being. Jon could sense the change, but couldn’t pin it down. His soul didn’t feel quite the same as the rest of the Spirits Jon had encountered before. It was a matter he’d have to look into.

Jon felt fatigued. Once again, he’d overexerted himself. Though this time he was confident he’d be okay. He felt anchored somehow. He looked at the group around the fireplace. They were an interesting bunch: the fruity medium, the Dao Master, the White Crow, the strange spirit, and himself.

He remembered Talbot had saved him only a short time earlier, and realized he hadn’t thanked him. If Talbot hadn’t come, he would have died. “Talbot.”

“Yes?” Said the man, yawning widely, echoing the sentiments of the group at large.

“Thank you. You saved me. He would have killed me if you hadn’t done something.” He saw the slightly chubby man’s eyes looking at him over the fire. It was true, their situation didn’t agree with him. Jon could tell he could handle it, and had almost certainly handled worse. But the man was clearly cut from a cloth that preferred a clean bathroom and a fresh shave every day, with a full-service breakfast each morning with a real mattress to ease into at the end of the day. This was no good.

“Think Nothing of it, Jon.” He smiled kindly at Jon. “It was my honor to do so.” Jon considered his words. Sometimes he forgot his own position. He felt a sense of shame creep through him that his title had never given him before.

Choosing not to engage the last comment, Jon inquired about something else. “How did you find me anyway?”

“Fidele told me, or showed me rather,” he beamed. Jon looked at the familiar on Lueur’s shoulder. He can see where you are at all times, provided you don’t stop him. When you ran into trouble, he alerted us, since your consciousness’s are linked.

“Right,” That was a handy trick Jon thought. Having more than one familiar had certainly come in handy. He looked at the crow and held out his forearm. It turned its beak toward him, understanding and came to him, resting gently on it. “You too,” he addressed the bird. “Thanks.” He stroked the bird’s white head.

It crooked softly and gently pecked his hand instead of answering verbally.

Finally, after a debriefing of the events over the last several hours, they were all more than exhausted. By this point it was waxing extremely late, and Jon was more than ready for bed. Only three hours ago he’d been laying down for bed, thinking about his plans for the next morning. Now all he wanted to think about were his plans for the next three minutes. Covering up, closing his eyes, and falling fast asleep. “Well, I’m going to go to bed now. Again.” He said it with a sense of comedy in his voice. “Lueur, come.” The young man sat up, transforming into a small owl, and soared over to him. He walked to his tent, leaving the others to do as they would.

He stripped and fell facedown onto his surprisingly soft bed. Had it been that comfortable earlier? Perhaps it was like being hungry. The same food you would normally eat always tasted better when you really needed it. And his bed was like drifting into vacation.

#

Sleep came easy, but his dreams were troubled. There was a dark spirit. It spun around him, making him feel dizzy. It was moving too fast to catch. At random, it would blindside him, hitting him hard, sapping his power. It was frustrating. He started yelling at it in ancient Sumerian, putting up a barrier between himself and the thing. It was laughing. Angry, he blasted it with a swell of light, yelling as he released the power.

He shot up, awake. It wasn’t just a dream. There was something in his tent. He cast a light into the air, illuminating the tent. The presence was gone as quickly as the light expanded. Nothing. What had that been? He pulled on some clothes, thinking rapidly. There had been no malevolent presences when Senfeng had found the spot, plus he’d put up a ton of enchantments to dispel dark magic and spirits. What was going on.

Then it dawned on him. The portal. Something must have got through with them. Jon looked for his familiars. Somehow, they were still sleeping. No. They weren’t. Unconscious, they had fallen to their sides and returned to their humanoid forms. This was bizarre. What could have done this to a being as powerful as Fidele. Whatever it was must have caught him off guard if it didn’t wake Jon up.

He left the tent quickly. He was hoping the others were okay. “Sen! Talbot! Wake up! Something’s here!” A moment later Sen came stumbling of his tent, alert but obviously exhausted. This was getting to be too much for everyone. Talbot didn’t come out.

Jon ran to his tent. Opening the flap, anger overflowed inside him at what he saw. Hovering over Talbot was the dream-demon, it was sucking energy out of him. Jon dispelled it with a burst of power, casting it away, if it survived anyway. Destroyed or not, it wouldn’t be able to return. He’d forced it beyond the enchantment barriers. He rushed to Talbot. “Talbot! Are you okay!” Nothing. “Talbot!” No movement. He knelt down, reading Talbot’s energy. Why was there nothing there. What was going on. He shook Talbot. He was cold. No, this couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be happening.

“Jon! Out he �"" he heard. It was Sen’s voice. What was going on. He lept from the tent with no time to think. He saw them. Senfeng had been caught off guard calling for Jon and cast backward into a tree. Jon looked for the source of the blast. That’s when he saw him. Standing under the moon light, with his face hidden. Jon would have known that aura anywhere, especially after the last incident. It was Dan.

Rage flooded Jon. Talbot had been Dan’s mentor, his friend, even a father figure. How could he just kill him?

The scene unfolded in a storm of events. The wind picked up instantly. The tents and debris flew up into the air, circling around Jon. He began to glow silver-white, his eyes casting light on the hillside as he rose into the air. His face changed. He no longer looked like Jon, but rather, someone who resembled him. His skin glowed like the moon as strange white dust flowed from his hands. It wrapped around him, changing into a kind of bright armor and cloth. It was like the fabric Diana had worn, only this seemed to serve a more menacing purpose. Jon’s armor was that of the original Sait Lord. He wore strange head gear, a mix of metal work and animal parts. He had invoked his secret. Now it was in control, in full unfiltered power, using Jon’s body as a vessel. He stretched out his hand toward the traitor. In the light, horror was visible on Dan’s face. A large beam of what seemed like intense moonlight shot from Jon’s hand, surrounding Dan, making him look like a hyper exposed photograph. He began to scream, first in terror, then in pain. Then all that could be seen were chunks of coal and ash as his body was blasted to pieces. The bits that flew outside the beam glowed white hot. Dan had been reduced to a streak of grey ash and coal across the hill side.

Jon’s face became his own again, and the heavy glow faded, darkening the campsite again as the dust armor and cloaking blew away with the dying wind, leaving Jon a half-naked ghost from the residue. As the light faded, his body fell with a crash into a heap on the ground. Senfeng ran to him, helping him sit upright.

“Jon,” Voice echoed in the blackness. His ears were ringing. “Jon.” He felt a wave of nausea as the ringing increased following the echoing voice. “Can you hear me!” the voice was closer, louder now. “Jon,” it sounded right next to him. Opening his eyes incited a wave of nausea. Jon rolled forward across Senfeng’s lap, vomiting on the ground in front of them. “Talbot…” Jon said between retching, sniffing, and tears. “He … He’s …” Just like with Elizabeth, he couldn’t face the words. “Sen, he’s.”

“You don’t have to say it,” Senfeng said, patting Jon on the back as he heaved again, coughing afterwards.” The sick feeling left along with the contents of his stomach, so he righted himself shakily, closing his eyes. He breathed carefully for a minute with his eyes clenched, trying to keep any further bouts of sick at bay.

When he felt secure it was over, he opened his eyes. There was a black patch on the hillside with a streak of whitish color in the middle. It must have been where he reduced Dan to rubble. Looking around he saw what had been their camp. The tents were in piles of cloth and covered in dirt. Where they had made the fire pit was now a blank ambiguous indent in the soil. His familiars were sprawled out, but looked more-less the same as before, still breathing.

Talbot’s tent was the only portion of camp left undisturbed. Senfeng stood, walking to the tent. He was inside for a moment. When he came out, his face was grim. Jon stood to meet his as he approached. “I was too late.” Jon croaked.

“It wasn’t your fault.” It’s really a miracle you woke in time to catch Daniel before he killed us all in the first place. But how did he get here?

Jon already had the answer. “He must have sent a demon along with us as we teleported, and in the commotion, none of us noticed its presence in the camp. I’m thinking he must have traced its position and teleported using their connection as a point of contact. That’s the only way he could have got around your enchantments.  A piece of his mind must have been connected to the spirit, so he already had an in. There’s no other way.”

“Mmmm.” Senfeng conceded to Jon’s explanation. It was the most likely possibility. “A sound theory.” As he spoke, he rose his hands into the air. The motion brought forth power and their possessions rose into the air, falling neatly into place, as if nothing had happened. Even the bonfire had lit again. He didn’t address the issue of Talbot’s body. Senfeng wove something slowly, gently in the air. A white light flowed gently from his fingers directly to the tent, extracting a hovering Talbot. The light encased him, reminding Jon of a coffin.

“Is it safe to stay here?” Jon said more out of not wanting to dispose of the body unceremoniously than out of fear of further intrusion.

“I doubt he had the opportunity to let anyone in on our location. Besides, you shouldn’t move around too much right now. I’m not sure exactly what it was you just did, but if it’s anything like what I suspect it is, it would be very unwise for you to do anything more tonight. At this point any traveling we might do could be just as dangerous. We’ll know in plenty of time to take action if someone tries to come into camp again. That was a freak incident we couldn’t have accounted for.” Senfeng looked at Jon warning him not to speak. He seemed to know Jon was preparing an argument for his own blame in the incident. “We did the best thing we could in the circumstances. It was a dire situation, and I’m sure he would’ve done it again. This was not your fault. You didn’t kill him, that necromancer did. That was his doing, not yours. It’s always the final blow of an assailant to make those who are victimized feel they are the ones that should be held responsible.”

He knew Senfeng was right. He knew Talbot would’ve. Jon wished it was him instead. Talbot had died because he went to save him. Jon shook his head, but refused to look Senfeng in the face. He was still full of shame, and a sense of helplessness. How could Senfeng be so level right now? Had he really seen so much in life that this wasn’t a big deal to him?

Jon turned his attentions to his familiars. They were beginning to rouse. He had been able to tell they were only stunned, so hadn’t been very worried for them. As they woke, he called them to him. As the crow and the owl, they lighted on his shoulders, Fidele nipped his earlobe once, gently.

The reduced group sat around the newly lit fire on fresh logs, since the others had been hit by Jon’s attack and burned to a crisp. They sat in silence while Jon pet the owl who had moved to his lap. No conversation ensued. No one looked to the encased body beside the tent that had belonged to Talbot. No one went to bed. They remained silently watching the dancing flames until the sun rose.

“We should eat, then we need to decide our next move.” Senfeng was standing now, pulling meat and other miscellaneous food from the air. It spun freely over the flames, magically suspended as it cooked.

Jon didn’t respond. “who was that?” Senfeng asked him.

“It was Dan, didn’t you see his face?” Jon looked at Sen as he divided the food up onto four plates. The crow was the first to got to his, devouring his food ravenously. Lueur hopped down, taking human form to consume his meal in silence next to Jon, who took the plate being offered by Senfeng.

“Mm... Yes, I did.” Senfeng mused cryptically, making Jon strangely uneasy.

“So, are you saying it was someone disguised as Daniel?”

“Or something. I don’t know yet. But that aura … Something was wrong about it.”

“It was Dan’s aura. I’d know it anywhere.” Jon said, feeling defensive.

“Perhaps it was. But that wasn’t Daniel. Not really anyway.” Jon considered that for a moment, staring at the grey blotch on the hillside. A long moment of silence hung between them. The uneasiness that had settled into Jon had ebbed and replaced itself with the melancholy of their loss. Neither man spoke.

Then, as quickly as if he were announcing a card game. Senfeng stood up and clapped his hands together, dispelling the dark mood between them.

“In any event, that’s not who I was talking about when I asked you who that was.” He said shaking his head, looking at Jon. “That wasn’t you last night. Someone else took over. Who was it? They looked a lot like you.” The game was up. Jon couldn’t keep the secret any longer.

He sighed, and sat his plate down, only having taken a bite from it. “When my ancestors opened my family history up to me, and showed me the Secrets of the Order, something else happened as well. When the rest of my ancestors returned beyond the gate. The first Sait Lord stayed back. He offered to make a contract with me. He told me he’d been waiting for me, that he’d received a prophesy saying one day, he would help a Sait preserve the balance.” So, he became my familiar. In order to keep it a secret, I decided not to put his spirit inside an external vessel, so I could keep him as a trump card. So I used my own body.” Jon looked at Sen directly for the first time that morning.

“So, you you’re his master and vessel?” Senfeng asked. He looked bothered. “Jon, I’m not sure what this means for you.”

“Me either, but so far, it’s been a silent relationship. I think he’s content to be left to himself. He’s been dead a very long time. I don’t know what the dead normally do, but it seems it’s not much.”

“And what experience would you have had with that?” Sen was eying Jon suspiciously.

“I’ve never done necromancy, if that’s what you mean,” Jon retorted, affronted. “But I’ve been to the gate a few times, in my dreams.” He ignored the look Sen shot at him. “the dead just seem to float around, content in their realm. I never bothered to ask them, or even call one, but I got the impression they were just minding their own business, in a sort of limbo state.” The rest of his statement seemed to pacify Senfeng somewhat. Knowing Jon wasn’t interested in the powers of the dead quelled whatever reproach he was apparently cooking up.

Sen exhaled deeply. “Well, I hope you’re prepared for this for the long haul. I don’t know whether you know this or not, but when you cancel a contract with a familiar, the vessel is typically destroyed. Over time, their existence becomes intertwined with the contract itself, making it impossible to preserve it after the bargain is annulled.”

“I did know.” Jon said. “It takes time for that to happen though. I could break the bond today and be okay. But I don’t plan to do that. Both the First Lord and myself understood this to be a long-standing agreement.” Jon was resolute.

“Why didn’t it look like the first Lord? It was like a mix between him and yourself. That was odd. The difference was enough I couldn’t be sure if it was him.”

“I suppose that is part of the effect of being a vessel as well as a master. If I ever became completely him, then I wouldn’t really be in control anymore.”

“There’s no telling what this means long term, Jon.” Sen was taking small bites of food between speaking. “A vessel and familiar live as long as the host does, unwaveringly. The vessel will not decay once it’s been taken up by a familiar. You may never die, not by natural means anyway.” Sen said gravely. “I don’t think you understand what that really means.

In truth, Jon was somewhat disturbed, hearing that come from the mouth of an immortal, but he had made up his mind, and wouldn’t go back. “Well,” Jon replied. “I did swear to protect you. And if you’re going to live forever, then I suppose I had better as well, If I’m going to make good on my end of the deal anyway.” Jon smirked.

Senfeng gave a wry chuckle, “If that’s the way you’re going to have it.” It was the first time they’d openly addressed the change in their arrangements. Jon still had questions about the situation though. How did he not have to be remade, when Senfeng had? He had some questions for the moon, if he would ever get to see her again.

“Well then, we should get moving. I think we need to do some necromancer hunting. It would likely draw out their Lord. And that’s what we need more than anything.

Jon said this, feeling confident in the idea. “Sen, I think I fought him.”

“What?” Senfeng said, his face dropping again.

“I think he’s the one I took the last piece of Jackson’s soul back from. He’s the one Talbot had to save me from.” Senfeng looked unconvinced at his words.

Carefully, Sen said, “Look, it makes sense you’d want someone to blame for what happened last night, but…”

“But I’m not trying to blame anyone, it’s what makes the most sense.” The only people who might be able to summon one of my familiars is someone who knew their identities. The only one other than us would have been Elizabeth. And it’s likely that when they got to her, they did a reading and uncovered everyone’s names. The only exception would have been Fidele, since I’d renamed him. She hadn’t had a chance to hear his new name, had she?”

Senfeng nodded. So far this was making sense. “That’s probably why they only went for Jackson, and not both of them. Most likely they tried to summon him and it didn’t work. Besides, to summon a familiar to drain its power from the head of an order, especially one your order is attempting to kill? Don’t you think a decision like that would have to come from the top or not at all? He was the one running the ceremony, and he was incredibly powerful. There were dozens of demons inside his head that he was controlling all at once. They’d caged me in. That’s why I was unable to escape. No ordinary warlock could have been so powerful.”

“No wizard can control multiple demons at a time. Even attempting to use one is ultimately a deadly choice. That aside, I can see your reasoning, but we still need more evidence to know for sure.” Senfeng said.

“And that’s what we’re going to look for in Istanbul,” Jon shot at him with an intense look. He was revving up, wanting to do something.

“Yes, that’s a good idea. But first we need to take care of things here.” His expression became grim as he looked around. Jon followed Sen’s glance and looked at the body at the edge of camp.

“… Right.” Jon said. His throat was suddenly dry. He took a large drink of coffee, trying to wash down the image of Talbot. “About that. I think it’s only right if the rest of the order can pay their respects.”

Sen looked incredulous. “How is that supposed to happen? We’re on the run, and your order is scattered across the globe.” Jon could tell he was exercising restraint and patience.

“Look, I’ve had an idea. When a wizard joins the Order of the Seer, he swears allegiance, as a protective measure against traitors and espionage. I don’t know if your order has something like that, but when they do, they kiss my signet ring after saying an oath, creating a contract. My thought is that since I’m master of the contract, I might be able to use it in a similar way to how I communicate with Lueur and Fidele. It’s worth a try anyway, isn’t it? I had the thought when we first went to our tents last night, and was planning to try it today to organize an effort to gather more information on the necromancers. But, given the circumstances, I may be able to reach them, even if I have to try it individually. I know some of them must be being followed. They probably wouldn’t be able to all come at once. And I’ve had another idea. Since it could take a while. I suggest we say our goodbyes now, and place an enchantment on the body to burn itself and erect a monument on the spot once everyone who can come has.” Jon knew the idea was a bit shaky, and Sen might not go for it.

“If it was anyone else, I’d disagree. But I think we can pull your idea off… with an alteration to your plan. We don’t know whether your mages have been attacked or possessed. So, I say we don’t warn them of anything, but simply send out a signal to come as urgently as possible, make it compulsory. This area is well protected. If there are any who are being controlled or stalked by demons or necromancers, then they won’t be able to access the site. We should set up the directions for the mission here, so only an unpossessed member of your order can read. We’ll add additional filters to the enchantments that prevents more than two spirits to pass through the barrier at a time. This will keep any possessed or controlled seers out. We will attach a security enchantment to the information so it can’t be uttered to or taken by anyone with intentions that contradict the balance. Do you agree?”

“I do. This is the safest way.” With that, they disposed of their breakfast in the fire and set to work, packing up camp.

Everything done and all the preparations made, Senfeng, Jon, and their familiars, all in (mostly) human form- Fideles apparently had decided the closest thing to human he ever needed to become was the Crow-man, with the body of a man, the head of a crow, and large black wings coming out the back of his arms. They stood broadside Talbot, with the midmorning sun to their backs. Jon cried silently, having known him best in more recent years. No parting words were spoken. The group simply stood in silence for several minutes.

After a time, Senfeng said, “We should go now.” His voice was quiet and kind sounding. Jon, who had already stopped crying, nodded acquiescing to the suggestion. They all turned to depart but Jon. He walked up to the now revised magical encasement, and reaching through, put his hand on Talbot’s chest. “Thank you for everything you did. I’m going to miss you.” With that he turned to go. His friend was gone forever.

Before they left the now dismantled campsite, Jon called to Fidele, who knew what his master wanted. The familiar turned into a giant white crow, which Jon mounted, as Senfeng likewise mounted his dragon. Lueuer was about to climb up onto the large bird, but was shaken off. “You have wings to fly yourself,” The crow’s voice was deep and guttural in this form.

“Fine then,” an offended Lueur said begrudgingly as he lept into the air, becoming a golden owl. He then ensued to circle

 the crow’s head, obviously bating him.

“Enough,” Jon said, not in the mood for their antics. And they flew away toward the city.

#

Once in the air, Senfeng magicked the sound of the wind away from them, so they could speak freely without shouting. Jon was glad it would be a quiet ride, he didn’t like the constant whishing of the wind, and didn’t know how long they’d be flying.

“So, how are we going to locate necromancers in the city? It’s enormous, and there’s so many people!” Jon said fatigued at the mere thought. “Plus, it probably won’t be safe for us to just go walking around a place we know is crawling with dark magic users. There will probably be very few people who we’d find helpful, and I’m sure a great deal more that would be happy to turn us in to the necromancers. There’s bound to be a hefty reward on our heads.” The more Jon spoke, the more convinced he became this might be a bad idea.

“That’s where you come in! I am unfamiliar with the secrets of necromancy, but you’ve encountered it up close, and have even felt it’s draw. You should be able to sense the traces of it’s crafting on any caster who’s used it recently. This will give us a good head start.” Jon liked the idea of non-invasive investigation. But it still sounded daunting. “Once you’ve located some of them, you can check if it’s any participated in the Sabbath last night. If their base is here, or they have affiliations with the city at all, one of them might be here to report information to their affiliates. We can give them the drop and extract information then.”

Jon was thinking he never wanted to cross Senfeng. His plan was more than cunning; it was a bit scary. He sounded as though he’d done things like this before. Knowing him, he probably had.

As they flew over the city, invisible to the crowds below, Jon felt the hot wind of the Southern Turkish summer. He smelled the Mediterranean air, thick with salt in his nose. Down below he saw seagulls and pigeons in flight, and ant-sized people pushing through crowded, bodega lined streets. The tan brick and grey concrete reflected the sun up at the incognito group. Jon wondered if there were other wizards who were doing the same thing somewhere else. He imagined them comically flying into another group, startling everyone as they crashed downward. He nearly laughed out loud.

The day was refreshing him. Though the somber feeling imprinted on him over the last two days was still more than fresh on his mind, it felt like having work to do in such a beautiful place was cleaning him out. But, it was getting time to work.

As per usual when doing a cold reading, Jon closed his eyes, remembering the eerie presence of the necromancers’ arts. The city was literally infested. Jon hadn’t expected it. He opened his eyes to talk to Sen. “They’re everywhere! I don’t know where to begin.”

Senfeng replied… “Hmmm …” Is there a way you can isolate your search with in an area or radius?”

“I can try,” Jon responded. He had never gone general to specific quite like this when he was looking for someone, especially not knowing exactly who that someone is. Closing his eyes again, he returned to his search. He focused on the southern end of the city, by the water. Nothing, not anything familiar anyway. He scanned throughout the city. “There!” He found two presences in the southwestern edge of the city, still on the water, but farther away from their current location. “I want to see if there are others, maybe I can locate everyone who might be here that was connected. Then we can make a more informed decision. You know, I was thinking. It’s possible the necromancers have a communication network as well. Do you think? If that’s the case, this could be really dangerous.” That was it. Jon was now officially ready to call this off.

“When you spot the one’s you think we should go after, we’ll focus first on creating a barrier around them before dropping in on them.” Senfeng seemed to already be prepared for this. Jon was still concerned, but continued with his search.

Within the vast city, he had been able to isolate three other members of the group, making a total of five people. “Sen I have to say. I have a bad feeling about all this. I think we should just observe for now, and find a safe place to regroup and plan once we’ve heard back from the rest of the seers.” He felt chicken-s**t for wanting to back out in the middle of the mission, but something wasn’t right. His fear was mounting, and that wasn’t normal for him.

“If you think that’s best, then that’s what we should do.” Senfeng seemed very calm and accepting of the idea. It made Jon feel strange. Had he been more affected by yesterday’s events than Jon had realized. It must have been bothering him. Two people he’d known for centuries were gone. It must have been an incredible pain.

“Let’s find a safe place to land then.” Jon called to him. Cast hiding spells around them, and descended closer to the ground.

“There’s a good place to land over that way,” he pointed to a place by the water. It might be a safe-house. There’s strong light magic around it. I don’t sense any dangerous presences either. Jon flews alongside his friend, soaring smoothly towards the ground. It was very different than being on a plane. Jon felt as though he were coming up to dock in a canoe on a glassy lake. The sensation was exhilarating. The two familiars landed gently, without resistance in a cobbled alley along the pier. They dismounted and Jon watched his familiar melt into invisibility as he let go. He felt Fidele shrink to normal size, and could only assume the dragon Zhao had done the same. His invisible friends mounted his shoulders on either side and they made sure to don appropriate tourist attire prior to exiting the alley, in case their presence was discovered. They opted to both change their physical appearances as well as to remain invisible. It was safer to layer up. They kept the protective enchantments active around them as they walked, being sure to stay near enough to each other that they would benefit from one another’s enchantments. Jon lagged behind Sen slightly, allowing him to act as guide. He was the one who seemed to know where the safest location would be.

Jon looked south west, looking out at the sea. It was beautiful. By now it was mid-afternoon and the sun was casting a golden haze across the city, reflecting brightly on the green-blue water. It seemed inordinately serene for the border of such a corrupted city. Jon had seen the level of dark magic that had been cast there, and it without doubt outweighed the light. Regardless it was still quite a view.

Neither man spoke as they walked quickly to their supposed destination. Jon was concerned Sen might be frustrated with him. He refrained from speaking however because he feared they might be heard by the wrong people somehow. Had they cast a silencing spell? He didn’t want to risk it.

After a few minutes, they reached the edge of the pier and Senfeng turned toward a building. It was a warehouse. At first glance, it simply looked like it held old fishing boats and rusted scrap parts. The roof was high up, and the façade was an old tan stone that made Jon wonder how long it had been there. The image seemed real enough until they got directly in front of the door. The scene was warbling slightly, and its angles seemed slightly skewed, the way the bottom of a shallow pool seems to flatten slightly when you look in at an angle. Weird. John realized the building might not be as old as it had appeared.

Senfeng passed under the threshold of the framework, disappearing. Jon bolted upright, feeling nervous. He looked around for onlookers. No one was nearby. He was worried about what might greet him on the other side. Then again, not knowing what might greet him on this side made him less excited to stay behind. So, here goes nothing. He climbed through.

On the other side of the mirage was a sudden step up. Jon tripped over it unceremoniously. Unfortunately, this graceless act didn’t go unwitnessed. Crossing through the barrier he swan-dived into the small of Senfeng’s back. Fortunately, he had a foot forward already on an upper step, allowing him to absorb he majority of the weight.

A guffaw sounded above Jon’s head and as he looked up he heard, “oh, there’s another one!” The voice resounded in a thick Turkish accent.

Senfeng quickly composed himself with a physical eloquence that could only be possible from a person who was eternally young and vigorous. He didn’t seem to notice Jon much, who finished falling and hit his knee on the edge of a step.

“Yes,” Senfeng said looking down at Jon and smiling at his friend’s gauche entrance. “This is my traveling companion. We’ll be needing accommodations. Have you any space for us?” Jon noted that Senfeng had a way of superimposing a sort of snobbish formality when dealing with business matters. It made him recall their first meeting.

“Of course! Of course! There’s always room at my safehouse!” Jon felt this was supposed to be comforting, but got the sense it boded ill for their accommodations, at least when juxtaposed with the mouth speaking presently. Safehouses were only ever mostly vacant when they weren’t actually very safe.

Without further word, he brought them in. There was no hesitation as there was usually at other safehouses. It felt uncomfortable, but Jon’s experience didn’t seem to match his feelings. He felt safe. Was this a premonition? An illusion? An enchantment? He didn’t want to trust it, but knew it was okay to.

They followed the boisterous Turkish man into a grand foyer and subsequently down a very, very long hall. On both sides, dusty windowed doors that presumably led to miscellaneous sections of the warehouse were shut tight along the concrete patched stone walls. Jon was beginning to understand how there was always more room at this safehouse. At the end of the corridor, the entered an elevator.

Up they went. And up. And up some more. It seemed the building was even taller than it was deep and wide. This must have been part of the illusion’s power, to hide the buildings true dimensions. Either that or there was spacial magic at work.

After an unusually long elevator ride, to Jon’s relief, the elevator dinged to a stop. The Turkish mad had been loud and overbearing. Jon thought maybe he was overexcited to have guests there of such ranking. He just wouldn’t shut up.

By the time they got to the room on the opposite end of the hall, Jon had learned far more about the safehouse and the personal life of the keeper, whose name it turned out was Mehmed, than he ever would have hoped to know. He’d also realized the reasons there were vacancies. One was the proprietor, and the other was the house was so big.

Leaving them the key to the room and walking backwards down the hall still talking at a rapid pace, Mehmed’s voice droned and dimmed. Jon was thankful to be inside a building and even more thankful to be rid of the inn keeper. He turned the key and heard a noise like a knife being sharpened coming from the key hole. The door swung open. Jon raised an eyebrow at Senfeng. “It was a protective enchantment. That would have cut your hand off if you’d been a dangerous person.”

“Oh…” Jon said, subconsciously massaging his wrist.

As they stepped inside, there was a sense of forgotten luxury to the room. The paint was pealing to reveal the plaster and stone underneath, but what remained was a rich turquoise with beautiful gold patterns painted over it. The floor was a patterned marble design of several different colors, and there was a fireplace on the left wall. Across the room was a set of French doors with gaussian white curtains leading to a courtyard balcony. The wood on the door was carved into ornate patterns and there were small palms and citrus trees scattered around the room in old pots against the walls. There were a couple of leather chairs and a chess table near the fire place, and the bed had nice new linen. Every inch of the wood in the room was stained dark and gave the room a heavy rich feeling. All in all, it wasn’t bad though. It made Jon want to sink into a chair with a book and never leave the room. He walked over to the tea cart and was just thinking he wanted tea when the samovar began steaming from the lid. Huh. Really? Jon grabbed a cup and turned the old brass knob on the spout. Fresh hot tea poured forth. It smelled of Jasmine and spices. Jon didn’t wait to confirm whether it was safe. He prepared his milk and sugar and took a chair. “Ahhh...” He said temporarily forgetting the stress and loss of the last several days. He leaned back, slurping gently on the edge of the cup and closed his eyes. Sleeping would have been very easy for him in the moment. This was like a forgotten five-star hotel.

He heard a door close and remembered suddenly he wasn’t alone. Senfeng had gone into the bathroom. The two birds had now transformed into their humanoid forms, though Trickster still retained the face of a crow. It was always uncanny. Jon wondered if he could, actually, transform his face into a human or not.

“I can, but don’t want to.” The coarse voice crooned from across the room. The bird-man answered Jon’s thought. He’d forgotten their telepathic link was always on like a background program. The other familiar had chosen the seat across from Jon, looking much more comfortable in humanoid form than he had as a bird kicking back in the puffy leather chair.

As they relaxed by the windows, the familiars were already sleeping in the sunlight, reminding Jon of two cats. The crow had transformed back to animal form and was sleeping with his beak tucked under his wing. The sunlight shone gold against his white feathers.

Jon was musing on this when he looked over at Sen who seemed incredibly relaxed reclining on the edge of the bed, having just come out of the shower. He appeared to be preparing for a nap, but Jon had a nagging thought on his mind.

“Sen”

“Hmm?” his eyes were still closed.

“About what happened earlier… Are you really okay that I called it off?” Jon chewed the inside of his lip, apprehensive about the potential can of worms he might be opening.

“Of course I am.”

“Are you sure? I mean, he was your friend…”

“Yes, he was. He was yours too. But why would that make me unhappy with your decision?” Senfeng was now looking at Jon from the corner of one eye.

“Well, I mean, yeah. But compared to you, I only knew him for a moment…” Jon trailed off. The words felt unjust rolling from his tongue, like an insult. Talbot had been a mentor to him, even a father figure. He’d grown closer to the man in 5 years than he had his own parents in twenty-five. “I only mean, you have known him so long. I’m sure you were very close.”

“Yes, we were good friends Jon. But you must remember, I’ve known many people who are gone now, some of whom I loved very deeply.” He sat upright to address Jon properly. “And yes, I count Talbot among them. But Jon, I’ve lived well over 1000 years. And it’s a difficult thing to put this into context to a person who has only live for about thirty years, but in that kind of a time frame, even the deepest emotions come to… Join others equally familiar. I’ve felt it all, over and over again. Deeper and deeper, in many shapes and variations. The way a man my age copes is different, and done in a much more prepared manner than a man of thirty, or even of 100. The reason I was quick to accept your decision was because you felt it.

“Seriously?” Jon felt the comment was a bit incredulous.

“Yes Jon. You don’t understand the power you have. Of course, I wouldn’t accept that as an answer from most people. But your feelings aren’t just feelings. They’re connected to things we haven’t seen yet, In ways that are difficult to understand. And if you have an intuition that says something is a bad idea, I don’t feel like taking the chance that it might just be a fluke- whether you’re right or not.” His frankness and wisdom in the moment unsettled Jon. And though he didn’t notice it until then, part of the unsettling feeling was that he sensed the gap between them. The sheer distance of time and knowledge. He felt infantile. There was something else too.

“Got it.” Jon said. But in truth, he didn’t so much. He couldn’t shake the feeling he was just chickening out. He sighed and rolled his head back against the chair. He let his eyes close for what felt like the first time in a year. “I need to bathe before I sleep, he announced to no one and everyone. I’m straight up covered in moon dust.” After a soothing hot shower, he returned and dropped face first into the bed next to Senfeng. Neither man had bothered changing and were still in their towels. He reached out and grabbed Sen’s hand. Senfeng squeezed back. Very quickly, he was asleep.

When he finally woke he had a crick in his neck from the way he had been laying. Everyone else was still sleeping. The sun had gone down and all that remained of the day was the waning twilight. Jon stood up and walked over to look out the massive paned windows. The semi-westward facing room view was part sea, part city. The sea looked lonely in the near dark. Standing there, he felt alone for the first time in a while. He felt a gap between them and himself. They all had such a connection to it all. Two were basically made of magic, and the third was so unique, he seemed the very embodiment of what all magicians should aspire to.

Beyond loneliness, he was feeling another familiar feeling. He felt lost. For the first time in a long time, he was afraid he might have missed his chance. He had blown his opportunity to find closure and give meaning to Talbot’s death. And with each passing moment, the people responsible were becoming more and more difficult to find. He knew it. But they had to keep going.

#

The next morning, Jon and Senfeng found themselves walking down a dodgy street in the center of Istanbul. Jon couldn’t help but notice the fresh rubble as they passed certain areas. But they pressed on, having little time to consider their environment. The familiars were flying undetected above them in a small heard.

They rounded a corner into an alleyway, which took them down several stairways before their path opened up to a small back street. They hooked left. Jon noted the mid-morning sun beating heavily down on them. He was looking forward to getting out of it.

Finally, they saw it. A large warehouse that seemed to be made entirely of reclaimed scraps. The tin was rusted and the cedar wood had long since oxidized to a dark grey. They marched on anyway.

As they approached the open threshold of the loading bay, Jon noticed the interior seemed to warble a bit. As they stepped inside, the scenery changed completely. What had been a fish rear end of a hack market shop was now a grand lobby with gorgeous tan and white marble room. Gorgeous well precisely symmetrical paned windows enshrouded a kiosk where several smartly dressed and beautiful witches stood assisting some wizards with their questions. Palms lined the room in an array of sizes and there was even a water feature to the right of a grand staircase glistening in the morning sun. The effect was exquisite.

Jon couldn’t help but be a bit slack-jawed. In fact, he was just getting to grips with his surroundings when a particularly beautiful woman at the kiosk looked at them and cleared her throat, indicating she was ready for them to step forward.

With no smile, she posted a greeting. “Welcome to the Council of Balance and Authority, how may I assist you?” Her words rolled off her tongue with a subtle middle-east accent. Jon liked it, but looking at her face, she was thoroughly off putting in spite of being completely gorgeous. Her red lipstick and stark black hair contrasted with her pale olive skin.  She radiated beauty. She also radiated a bad attitude. As much as Jon wanted to like her, his immediate instinct was to put his fingers up in a cross motion and back away slowly.

Senfeng, who currently did not look like Senfeng, took the lead. “Yes, we need to speak to the Chairman of the Council.”

“Have you got an appointment?” She said blandly, not looking up from the orb in front of her which contained a stream glowing script she appeared to be reading.

“No, we haven’t. It didn’t seem prudent to do so.” Senfeng said kindly, ignoring her rudeness.

“Then I’m afraid it won’t be possible to see him today. Please schedule an appointment and come again. Ne�"“

Senfeng cut her off. He grabbed her hand that had begun to motion the next person in the queue. “I believe he will make time for this.” Sen took his left hand and waved it part way across his face, changing the shifted side back to normal discretely out of view from the people next to him, allowing only Jon and the woman to see.

Her eyes grew wide as he re-did his enchantment. “Oh. One moment please, Sir.” At seeing his face, her demeanor changed dramatically. She appeared to go into a kind of shock of common courtesy. Bowing slightly, she backed away and passed in reverse through the mahogany paneling behind the kiosk.

Shortly after, she reappeared with a serious but amicable face followed closely by a very tall black man. He addressed them with a British influenced Moroccan accent. “Gentlemen, if you would please follow me.” He said bowing in respect.

Jon and Sen exchanged a look. That’s more like it. Jon thought. It was about time they were treated with a little decency.

As they went back, they found themselves in a large atrium reaching three levels high. The ground level was neatly divided up by pony walled cubicles, each with one to three standing desks made of a fine wood and glass. Everything seemed modern and sleek, except for the building itself, which dripped with ancient architecture. Columns and arches surrounded the room with corridors behind forming glass railed balconies. Behind which one could see a plethora of dark wood doors.

They headed back to a staircase down the center aisle that led up to the second floor. At the top of the stairs, they entered set of heavy double doors, ornately hewn with floral patterns and geometric borders.

Closing the doors, the man and woman turned to Jon and Sen. “This room is secure. You can drop the disguised now, my Lords.” Jon was a little impressed they knew he was also in disguise, and also that they knew who he was.

The two undid their respective enchantments. “Thank you. You know, those begin to feel stuffy after a while.” Sen said. As their revealed themselves, Jon noticed their hosts bowing slightly to them. Jon felt this wasn’t such a bad situation. He hadn’t had this kind of treatment in months. He had come to expect it, and losing it suddenly had been a slight blow to his ego.

“So, Master Zhao Senfeng, Lord Sait- it is a pleasure meeting you in person.” The man said as both he and the woman bowed respectfully. The world has been wondering whether you to two were still alive.”

Jon spoke this time. “Then we’ve done well.”

“Indeed,” The Man said. Permit me to introduce myself. I am Chairman Qunae,” he said nodding slightly. “And this,” he gestured with his hand in deferment, “Is Jezebel Sarru, a liaison to entities outside the Council. You can trust her.” Jon did not.

He and Sen smiled anyway and bowed politely.

“So, what brings us the honor of your renowned graces today?” Ha! You charmer. Jon thought, recognizing someone blowing smoke.

“We are here,” Senfeng said. “To destroy the Order of the Necromancers.” The room fell silent.

Jon waited for a reply. And When none came he spoke up. “So… Would you like to help?”

END