curse of the magi 26

Elia edged up to the palace gates at 2315.

The palace guard gave her a suspicious glare. She glared back.

“I’m here to visit Hovsep.” The palace guard laughed.

“Very funny, now get out.”

“I’m being serious, call him if you want.” The guard raised his eyebrow as he picked up the intercom phone.

“Hello. Visitor for Hovsep.” His voice crackled over the intercom.

“Yup, send her in.” The guard slammed down the phone and grudgingly hit the
button that opened up the gate. Elia raised her eyebrows at him and went through.

pentacle 8

PART 1 – THREE OF SWORDS (cont.)

Adrian, who at this point in time was called Alice, was glued to the kitchen chair. Not literally glued, but figuratively, glued by obligation. Held down by the idea that if they got up, they would have failed. Which would have been the worst thing in the world. Janet placed a china plate on the table in front of Alice. Alice stared at it reproachfully, sure that the pretty pink roses were mocking them. All the roses had to do were be pretty, but Alice was obligated to stay here, and do what was required of them.

“Try it again,” ordered Janet, not unkindly. Alice stared at the plate until one plate turned into two. They were developing massive headache, and it seemed that their forehead as well would split into two. But as hard as they tried and hoped and desperately pushed with their mind, the plate would not move.

“Mom,” Alice pleaded. “I can’t do it. My head hurts.”

“Of course you can do it, sweetie,” Janet said, again, not unkindly. Alice started to cry.

“I can’t, mom, I can’t,” they said.

“Alice,” Janet said sharply. Alice flinched at the sound of their name. “You will do it. So keep trying.”

“No!” screamed Alice through sobs. At this, the plate shot through the air and shattered against the wall, just barely missing Janet’s head. A single shard fell away and sliced its way down the side of her face. Her eyes turned mean.

“Alice,” she said again, quietly, but this time, quite unkindly. Fear shot its way down Alice’s spine. They knew they were in trouble.

pentacle 7

PART 1 – THREE OF SWORDS (cont.)

Adrian and Aiden had retrieved the box. It was smaller than expected and cardboard with “From Bill and Janet” written in thick sharpie on the top. The scrawling script was clearly Bahir’s. Adrian, once again, had gone numb and was staring that the box, but not really at it all. Aiden put his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“I’ll get a box cutter,” he said. Adrian had not moved by the time he had returned. “It won’t open itself” he said, handing the box cutter over. Adrian nodded silently and sliced the tape deftly. The flaps fell open. The contents were bundled in bubble wrap. Adrian knelt down and carefully unwrapped the first parcel. As Aiden leaned over their shoulder, he could see that the other parcels were exactly the same, all stack on top of each other. It seemed that the box was filled with delicately painted china plates.

The plate Adrain was holding made no sound as it fell and rejoined the others. The plate was painted with tiny pink roses around the rim. Their breath turned shallow and quick as they recognized the pattern, and relived the memory they recognized it from.

pentacle 6

PART 1 – THREE OF SWORDS (cont.)

Adrian was sitting in the middle of Bahir’s bed. They hadn’t moved in nearly five minutes. Aiden was nonchalantly skimming the belongings strewn across the dead man’s desk. A pen was thrown across a half-finished notebook page. An empty coffee mug sat to the left. As if someone was about to pick up the pen and finish their thought. As if someone would come through the door any minute to clear away the empty mug. Aiden finally broke the silence.

“Ok something’s up, spill it,” he said. He held up his hand. “No, I know. There’s a lot that’s ‘up.’ There’s something else.” Adrian stared into space for what felt to Aiden like forever. But in what was actually only 30 seconds, they finally responded.

“I think he really did shoot himself. That seems to be true,” they paused again. Then continued. “On the left side of his head – I mean, there was makeup on it, but you could stills sort of see that -“

Aiden grimaced. “Okay, stop, stop, I get it”

“Oh,” Adrian continued, “well that part seems true, anyways, but Aiden,” for the first time since they had entered the room, they made eye contact, “there were bruises, on his wrist.” Aiden’s eyes went wide.

“Well how could you – I mean don’t they…” he gestured broadly “cover that up or something?” Adrian shrugged.

“Maybe not, if it’s supposed to be covered by the suit.”

“He’s wearing a suit?” Aiden snorted. “Boy, he would hate that.” Adrian let out one short, soft laugh, then another.

“It’s not like the undertaker would let me put him in a Hawaiian shirt,” they managed between laughs. Aiden snorted again. Adrian doubled over. And they each forgot, momentarily, the reason they were in this room alone in the first place. They forgot momentarily that the man they were laughing over was gone.

In the kitchen Joyce looked up from her late friend’s will and raised a single eyebrow at the sound of two friends laughing hysterically in the room of a dead man. She lined up the edges of the pages, slipped them into an envelope, and quietly absconded. Her work did not end here.

“Okay, okay,” Adrian said breathlessly, wiping away tears. “Let’s do what we came here to do.” They looked around, actually taking in the room for the first time. They pointed to the desk. “What’s in that notebook?”

Aiden moved over to take a closer look.

“Oh,” he said, “it’s to you. It starts ‘Yo Adrian!’ “

“It does not,” Adrian laughed. They stood up to [look over Aiden’s shoulder]. “Oh” their voice softened “it does.” [backstory about name goes here??]

Yo Adrian, the letter read, I thought you and Aiden would appreciate. Aiden and Adrian grinned at each other. The contents of this notebook will shock you. They will challenge your reality and introduce you to a world I worked hard to protect you from. I couldn’t protect you any longer, and I’m sorry for that. I ask that you take this information one page at a time. Each will take time to process.

Aiden, I know you are reading this too. The friends exchanged a sheepish grin. You and I both know Adrian. They are proud, stubborn, and fiercely independent. Adrian blushed. But this path is yours too, you will understand that soon. My task for you is to make sure Adrian doesn’t walk this path alone. Be as annoying as compassionate, and as persistent as I know you can be.

Aiden screwed up his face.

“He has to have to last word, doesn’t he,” Aiden complained. “Can’t even give me a break when he’s dead.” Adrian laughed. They both fell silent and tried not to look at the notebook. They failed. Adrian nervously adjusted their hat.

“Here goes nothing,” they said and flipped the page.

It won’t surprise you, Adrian, Bahir wrote, If I say that your adoptive parents did not have your best interest at heart. But it may surprise you to hear why that is. And why they adopted you in the first place. You see, they were interested mainly in your abilities. The reason is part of a much larger picture that will unfold as you continue to read my extensive notes. They died under suspicious circumstances only two years after you were removed from their care.

An article was cut and pasted onto the page. The headline read “Carmel couple found dead in their home” the picture was of the home Adrian had lived in until the age of seven. Seeing it again, even in black and white newsprint, raised the hair on the back of their neck.

What they left to you in their will is in a label box in the basement. Their death was ruled a suicide. But you should know that a suicide is not always self-inflicted.

pipe bomb dream 0

She tips her coffee back and forth. Stopping it right before it spills.

“It just wasn’t working,” he says. “You understand, right?” Tip forward. Tip back. Her fork has one bent tine.

“Sure.”

“Abby’s a nice girl,” Lucas says. Nice girl. Pale girl. Paler in his red sheets.

“I’m sure.”

He leans forward. Trying to make contact. Eye contact.

“We’re happy together,” he says. She sees Abby’s eyes. Her half-lidded eyes, sleepy. Disarmed. Where she lies in his red sheets. “That’s nice.”

“Cal?”

“What?”

“Can’t you be happy for me?” The window is wide. It has a white sign that’s backward from the inside. Abby’s eyes are lidded. In his red sheets. Animal rutting in his red sheets.

“Sure, why not?” He smiles. Relieved. Oblivious.

“We can still be friends right?” Oblivious.

“Sure, why not.”

prelude

The campfire flickered around the feet of the rebels, and shadows flashed over their faces.

Their leader propped his chin on his palm, his elbow on his spindly knee.

“For years, the Wizards have been oppressed,” he started, “forced to kiss the asses of the untalented, unimpressive humans that have controlled us. Well, no longer. We are the beginning of a new movement, a revolution. We have freed ourselves and we will free the rest of our kind. We will draw the blood of those who have harmed us until they draw their final breaths. We will not be defeated. We will only grow stronger.

Tonight is our first victory. Tonight we strike our first blow.” He slowly straightened his lanky body to its full
6’3” and cast a shadow even longer.

“Bring out the slave-driver.”

Two shadowed and hooded rebels wrestled the overseer to the corridor between their fire and their leader. The leader unsheathed his knife and gathered the man’s shirt in his hand. The cold blade kissed the overseer’s neck. His eyes froze and his body shuddered.

A grin snaked up the leader’s cheekbone.

“Any last words?” But the overseer’s tongue was frozen and his jaw locked.

The leader let out a laugh that chilled the air. “Don’t look so scared. We can’t kill you yet; you haven’t even been useful. Now,” the knife bit its single tooth into the man’s neck, “do you know a man named Phobos Dike?” The overseer let a hoarse croak escape his dry throat.

“Yes.”
“Do you know his students?”
“I don’t-“ the knife pressed harder and the overseer. “Fine. One is Hades Poseidon. The other one is just a legend.”

“You’re lying,” the leader growled, punctuating his sentence with another push of his knife.” The overseer grunted through the pain.

“I’m telling the truth. No one has ever found her, and no one ever will. Dike made her up to distract from the other one. He told me himself.” The leader let a sigh roll through his growl as he slid the knife away from his captive’s neck. The overseer held his hands over the blood and looked at the leader.

“Go.” The leader snapped. “You’ve been useful enough. Just don’t tell anyone about what happened here tonight. And if word gets out, I will skin you like a deer and use your pelt as my shower curtain. Understood? Now get!”

The rebel leader watched the overseer scuttle away, but, of course, he couldn’t bring word to his superiors. They would just have to find his body and do their own speculating.

The rebel leader hurled his bloody knife. It landed in the small of the man’s back
with a crunch and a thunk. The overseer slumped forward and the leader turned to his second in command.

“I don’t like taking chances.”

pentacle 5

PART 1 – THREE OF SWORDS (cont.)

Angel leaned forward.

“There is one thing though,” she said. Abby gave her a one-sided smile.

“Okay, what is it?”

“They’re saying that Bahir’s is really Adrian’s uncle” she revealed. Abby gave her a blank look. Angel sighed. “Oh I know, of course he is. No, what I mean is…ugh. Do you remember when Adrian was removed from their parents’ care. Well, we know Adrian was adopted. Bahir claimed next of kin. We all assumed he was related to Adrian’s adopted parents, but it’s going around that he was related to their birth parents.” Angel leaned back and let that sink in.

“So he knew Adrian’s birth parents?” Abby asked. Angel nodded. “Do you think Adrian knows?” Angel shrugged.

“I don’t know, but, if it’s true, they’re going to find out soon.”

pentacle 4

PART 1 – THREE OF SWORDS (cont.)

Joyce met Adrian and Aiden at Bahir’s house. Typically in a professional setting, Joyce was never anything but Dr. O’Connor. She hadn’t spend 5 years on her Ph.D. to be called Joyce. But for Bahir and his neiphling, and only for Bahir and his neiphling, she was Joyce, even in professional settings. In fact, it was only as a favor to her long-time friend that she even practiced law. Head of her law department, she was normally much too busy to take on a case, let alone something as small and straightforward as a will. But these were good people and old friends, and for them, she, Joyce, would be there.

“What’s up Dr. O’Connor?” Aiden greeted. Joyce nodded curtly.
“Aiden.” She put and hand on Adrian’s shoulder. “Adrian.” She knew better than to ask them how they were ‘holding up’. She simply lead them into the house by the shoulder. They all sat down at the kitchen table, Joyce holding copy of Bahir’s will.

“It’s pretty simple,” she said, looking up through her reading glasses. “Anything Bahir owned goes to you, Adrian. The house, everything in it, and a substantial sum of money.”

“Oh,” said Adrian, passively. They did not look up. They supposed that normally one might be excited to suddenly come into possession of their own house and a “substantial sum of money.” But they had a hard time getting excited. That the house was Adrian’s, and Adrian’s alone, only made it seem emptier and lonelier. They would rather live under a bridge in a box or something if it meant Bahir could still be here, lighting up the halls with his laughter.

“Yeah, I know,” responded Joyce. “But Bahir also left you items of a more…personal importance to him. I’ll call you later in the week to talk through the financial side of things. But for now, maybe you’d like to take a look at his bedroom?”

Adrian nodded numbly.

This was a big gamble. It was the sort of thing that could either make Adrian feel better or worse, but that didn’t really matter. Because Bahir had tasked Joyce with something much more important than the settlement of his estate. He had tasked her with guiding Adrian to the answers they would need. Whatever the cost.

curse of the magi 25

“Hovsep!” Elia answered. “Why haven’t you called before?” Hovsep sighed.

“I’m sorry. I’m a dick, but that’s not important now.”

“Right, sorry. Go ahead.” Hovsep took a shaky breath.

“I need you to help me break out these captives.”

“Wizards?”

“Yes. Will you?” Elia was silent. Hovsep’s heartbeat pounded into his eardrums.

“Of course.” The answer was flat and obvious.

“Come here at 2330 hours.”

“Where?”

“You’re the wizard. You find me.”

curse of the magi 24

Hovsep held his head in his scarred hands. He shouldn’t care. He should tell himself that these kids deserved it. He would have done that a long time ago, before he met Elia.

He heard her voice now. Filling his head with her trembling pain, her trembling
darkness.

I never meant to hurt them. But they had hurt her. Their words had cut into tender
heart and bleeding flesh, but she never struck back. It hurt her even more to see them in pain. To see Hovsep in pain.

Why didn’t you save yourself, Elia? Why did you have to be so good?

He remembered the prisoners’ faces.

They wouldn’t give up, but neither would the captors. It would be answers or death, and no answers would come.

The old Hovsep would have let them die.

The old Hovsep wouldn’t give an inch,
wouldn’t care any more, but not the new Hovsep, not Elia.

His right arm trembled as he drew out his phone, and his index finger shook even harder as he typed in a number he hadn’t called in months. Then he said those words he always hated to say.

“I need your help.”