Dark Magic (Harbinger P.I. Book 3) (17 page)

“Yeah, I think I’ll pass.”

His face grew furious. A blue glow began to crackle in the air around his hands. He raised them and flung them forward. A bright blue ball of energy shot toward me.

I raised the magical shield. The ball crashed into it and then dissipated.

Luke looked shocked. “No, this can’t be. You have to die, Harbinger!”

“Like I said, I’ll pass.” I summoned up my own magical blast, feeling it rise up through my body and down along my arms. I released it in Luke’s direction. Green lines of energy formed complex magical shapes in the air around my hands, shapes that I now thought were connected to the inscriptions on my bones, before massing together into a single ball of energy that shot forward.

Luke raised a shield of his own, a plain glowing blue wall. My energy ball hit it and sparked into thousands of glowing green shards.

I had to strike now before I became weak. I ran forward, preparing to swing my sword at his neck. He backed away, his feet going into the water, and raised another magical shield. The enchanted blade sliced through the shield in a shower of blue sparks. Luke stumbled backward into the lake, out of the sword’s reach.

Thunder rumbled over the lake, just as it had when the portal had been opened. I looked at Whitefish Island. The smoke was disappearing. The witches had finally taken action and closed the portal.

“No,” Luke groaned. “No, it can’t be.”

“Looks like your three-year ritual is ended,” I told him. “That’ll teach you to mess with knights.”

His eyes went to Gibl. The monster looked over at the closing portal, then at Luke. It advanced on him, obviously pissed that its ticket to our realm was now void. It had worked with Luke for all that time and now Luke had let it down.

A long pink tongue shot out from one of the multitude of mouths and wound around Luke’s arm. Another grabbed his leg. I stepped back, out of the way, as another tongue snaked around Luke’s neck.

His eyes bulged. “No, help me. Harbinger, help me.”

Gibl began to be sucked toward the island and the closing portal, dragging Luke with it. As they were pulled across the surface of the lake by the strong magical force, along with the frog monsters that were still alive, Luke began to scream. He was pulled into the smoke along with the monsters and then the smoke began to recede quickly, disappearing completely within seconds.

I turned from the lake and said to Felicity and Sherry, “Let’s go home.”

“She’s not going anywhere.” Cantrell’s voice came from the trail. He was standing there with his handgun in his hands, the muzzle pointed at Sherry. He was sweaty and dirty and there was blood on his uniform. The grim expression on his face told me he couldn’t be reasoned with.

Amy appeared on the trail behind him. “Dad, what are you doing?” Her uniform was also bloody and disheveled. There was a sadness in her eyes that hadn’t been there before today. She had lost friends and colleagues in the parking lot.

“I’m doing what I’ve dreamed of doing ever since your mother was killed,” Cantrell said. “I’m taking my revenge.”

Despite having a gun pointed at her, Sherry was calm. “Sheriff, I’m glad you’re standing in front of me talking about your wife because there’s something I have to tell you, something you are unaware of. Mary wasn’t involved with that church in the way you think she was. She was working with me to bring it down. You see, she wanted to be just like you and your daughter there. She wanted to make a difference.”

Cantrell’s hands wavered slightly. “What? What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that Mary wanted to do something good. She was so proud of you and your daughter and she wanted to make you proud of her.”

“Of course I was proud of her,” he said, his voice softening. “I loved her.”

“Yes, she knew that. But she thought of you and Amy as special and she wanted to be special too. That’s why she set her heart on taking down that church at Clara. She knew something was wrong there, something evil, and she wanted to make it right. Even when I told her she couldn’t be a part of my investigation, she wouldn’t take no for an answer because she knew she was doing something good.”

Tears had begun to well in Amy’s eyes. The sheriff looked sad and confused. He lowered the gun slightly.

Sherry looked at him with compassion in her eyes. “Sir, your wife died a hero and I have wanted to tell you that for such a very long time.”

Cantrell dropped to one knee, as if the exertion of the day had suddenly caught up with him. “Mary,” he said pitifully.

Sherry walked over to him and crouched in front of him. She put a hand on his shoulder. “Today, we finished what she started. I think she’d be pleased with that.”

Cantrell nodded slowly, his eyes gazing at the ground as he tried to comprehend what he had just been told. Amy went to him and put her arm around him. She was crying freely. When Sherry stood up, Amy mouthed, “Thank you,” to her.

Sherry nodded and walked up to the trail. Felicity and I followed. We walked in silence along the trail to the parking lot where a battle with a monster had once raged but now only broken things remained.

T
wo days later
, Felicity, Sherry, and I stood on the runway at Bangor International Airport, next to one of the Society’s private jets. Two Society security guards dressed in black suits and wearing aviator sunglasses flanked the metal steps that led up to the plane’s open door.

Felicity had called my father and explained Sherry’s plight and he had been understanding, as I knew he would be, and said that she could go and work for the Society in London. The recent expulsion of a number of members found to be spies for the Midnight Cabal meant there was a shortage of staff working from the London headquarters, and an investigator of Sherry’s high standard was more than welcome.

“Well, I guess this is it,” Sherry said, dropping her carry-on bag on the tarmac and giving me a hug. “Thanks for everything, Alec.”

“No problem. Be careful and don’t go getting into fights you can’t win.”

She arched an eyebrow at me. “Fights I can’t win? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, when you and I fought, you had to quit. Fighting against me, that’s okay because I’m an understanding guy, but not everyone will be so lenient.”

“Lenient? I could have kicked your ass.”

“You said, ‘I quit,’ and that’s when we stopped.”

“I said ‘time out.’ There’s a difference.”

I shrugged noncommittally. Sherry knew I was just pulling her leg. She looked at me with an incredulous look and then we both burst out laughing.

“The next time I see you,” she said, “there’s going to be a rematch. Then we’ll see who quits.” She hugged Felicity. “You take care, honey. And hold on to this one, he’s a keeper.” Then she added, “But don’t tell him I said that.”

Felicity grinned. “Have a safe journey.”

“Don’t you worry about me,” Sherry said. “I’ll send you a postcard from the Tower of London.” She picked up her bag and went up the steps to the plane. At the top, she turned around and said to me, “Harbinger, you’re one of the good guys. I hope we meet again.” With that, she disappeared into the plane.

Felicity and I walked back through the terminals to where I’d parked the Miracle Car. We’d given that name to June and Earl’s Caprice because when we got to the parking lot where the battle with Gibl had taken place, nearly every vehicle was scratched, dented, or crushed. Most of the police cruisers had been destroyed and Leon’s RV had been crushed at one end. But the Caprice had been sitting in the middle of all the action and hadn’t suffered a single scratch.

We got into the car and Felicity said, “Perhaps the sheriff will soften a bit now.”

I grunted. “I doubt it. I’m sure he’ll still be a pain in the ass.” I started the Caprice, drove us out of the airport, and headed for I-95.

Felicity shook her head. “You’re always so cynical, Alec.”

“I told you before, being cynical has kept me alive this long.”

“No, you said being suspicious has kept you alive this long.”

“Cynicism and suspicion go well together.”

She relaxed back in her seat. The sun flooding in through the windows lit her up as if she were on fire. “Well, I’m not going to let your mood affect me. We’ve just completed a case and there’s nothing bad happening at the moment. That makes a welcome change and I am going to enjoy it.”

I said nothing. There was always something bad happening somewhere. The Midnight Cabal was gaining power. I was indebted to a faerie queen. There were marks on my bones that had been put there with my father’s consent. Mallory was living on borrowed time thanks to an ancient curse.I knew the location of the Spear of Destiny, an artifact so powerful that nobody should ever get their hands on it. Just the fact that it existed meant there was potential for bad things to happen.

“You look serious,” Felicity said, “What are you thinking about?”

“Destiny.”

“Do you believe in destiny?”

Keeping my eyes locked on the road ahead, I said, “I believe that sometimes we can’t escape it.”

T
HE END

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hank you for reading
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A
dam J Wright

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