Magic Rising (10 page)

“Oh, it’s good to see you.” Earl tried to be patient but it seemed to take forever for Niam to hand that bag over. “I was hoping you hadn’t forgotten about me.” Earl held the door open, waving Niam inside. He couldn’t help staring at the paper sack, hoping there was some alcohol in there.

“Good to see you.” Niam handed it over. “You look pretty hungry.”

Earl opened it and took out a plate wrapped in a towel then covered in foil. That he placed on the rickety table near the couch. Next he found the bottle of wine. He jerked the screw top off, and guzzled the sweet liquid down. The wine wasn’t cold, but he didn’t care. It would ease his nerves.

“Thank you, Niam. Thank you.” He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Please sit.” He took another drink. “Thanks.”

“How are you doing?” Niam studied him. “You look a little rough today.”

“I couldn’t get into town. Couldn’t get a drink. Saw some boys in my woods and got scared.” Earl hung his head. “Alcohol gets the best of me. It’s a shame. My eyes are bad, nerves are shot.” Hot tears grew in his eyes and he blinked them back, not wanting to look any more pathetic in front of Niam. “I almost killed someone. The damn drink nearly turned me into a killer. I didn’t pay attention and there she was and I shot. I thought the boys from town had found me but it was a girl.”

Niam came closer, following Earl to the couch, although he didn’t sit there. He knelt in front of Earl, crouching as if unwilling to touch anything in the house. Niam even gathered the hem of his trench coat, flopping it over one arm to prevent it from dragging the floor. Earl didn’t blame him but it was hardly comforting.

“What are you talking about? You’re not making any sense.”

“There was a lady here. Scared me half to death because she didn’t come in the front door, didn’t knock.” He would’ve hated himself if he killed that pretty little thing. “Said she used to stay here a long time ago.” He shifted nervously, not liking this conversation. “Pretty thing. Tall, thin, and she had long brown hair and the brownest eyes.”

Niam’s eyes turned to tiny beads and his lips thinned to an angry line. “How did she get in?”

“Crazy girl climbed up to the second floor and broke in through the window. I wouldn’t have known it except I saw her near the rail. Scared me half to death. I was expecting someone at the front door.” Earl drank more of the wine. “I shouldn’t have shot at her. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. She had just as much right to be here as me.”

While looking around, Niam rose, studying the landing above. The rail was speckled from the blast. Earl reckoned he should fix that. He’d done the damage so it was only right. Niam might be disappointed in him for it too. Earl hoped not. He needed Niam.

“I’ll fix that. I’m not one to wreck a place. She just shook me up is all.” He looked at the damage, wondering how in the world he could patch the old wood. “I’m awful sorry.”

“Did you hit her?”

“No. Fired twice. One shot got the closest. Turns out she was packing too.” Earl held up his wounded hand. “She could have killed me. Woman shot the gun out of my hand. I guess I should be thankful for that too.”

Niam came closer to Earl and something in the reverend’s eyes frightened him. Earl had never seen the man upset, until now. Niam reached for Earl’s hand and Earl wanted to withdraw, wanted to leave, but Niam took care of him. There was no one else to turn to.

“Minor. Bet it didn’t even bleed much.”

“No. I think she just wanted me to stop shootin.” He laughed and heard his nerves crackle in the sound. “Right nice of her not to put one between my eyes.”

Whipping that coat around him, Niam stepped outside and studied the building. Then he came back in and went upstairs, checking out the window and the touching the damage Earl had done with the shotgun. This was bad. Niam had to be pissed about it.

“Did she tell you her name?”

“No.” He thought for a minute. “Wait. She did. I had a hard time listening, it being so long since I had a little drink.” He sipped more from the bottle Niam had brought. “It was Sarah or Sally. Something with an S.”

“Did she mention why she was here?” Niam asked from the rail and Earl thought maybe Niam was more upset about the girl than the damage.

“I swear I didn’t hurt her.”

Niam’s eyes looked down, appearing darker than black, large and evil. “Did she say why she was here?”

“Not really. Took an interest in you though.”

Earl wished the words had never left his mouth. Niam flew down the steps, veins bulging in his face, eyes wide. The look on his face made Earl take several steps backward.

“What did you tell her about me?” He spoke from clenched teeth and for a minute Niam, his friend, looked more like a monster than any mortal man. It was as if the creature had dropped the mask for a minute and what existed beneath wasn’t kind or caring. The cruel mark in the eyes, those damn eyes, he’d seen nothing like them before and he didn’t want to see them now. “What did you say?”

Earl had been so taken with Niam’s quick descent down the stairs and the change in his demeanor that he lost the ability to speak. Maybe all this was a trick of the drink. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d doubted his eyes, especially since living here. The way Niam stepped forward, and pulled back his arm, like he might hit Earl soon, made his mouth start working again.

“Only your name and that you brought me food. She liked the fact that you were a reverend.” This was about the girl. She knew Niam and that’s why she came through the window. Sally, or whatever, had been afraid of who she would find living in this house. She’d been afraid of Niam.

“How long ago was she here?”

Earl wasn’t sure what he should say. There were obviously reasons to fear the reverend, but he’d been so nice until today. “An hour ago, maybe. Haven’t seen her leave yet. She’s probably still up at the big place.” He spoke too excitedly and he realized that he was far too eager to please a man buying him a drink.

“Really.” Niam touched his chin and stared at Earl. No that wasn’t exactly right, he looked through him. “I need to make a call.”

Earl sat back on the couch, trying again to distance himself from his odd friend. He’d seen Niam throw a fit, once. The temper was one to give a devil a run for his money. At the time, Earl thought it was okay because Niam was a reverend. It wasn’t as bad as now though. He’d never seen the reverend like this, so cold, like he vibrated with rage.

Earl worried, especially for the girl.

“Yes. I’m at the men’s dormitory. Send some of the guys.”

Niam’s back was to Earl but he heard enough of the conversation. It sounded like he was going to have visitors. He didn’t like visitors. They scared him. Earl reached down and took a long drink of wine, ignoring the food for now. Something told him that he needed to get good and drunk.

“Are you going to hurt that girl?” Earl shouldn’t have asked but the question slid past his lips before he could stop it.

The worst part was the way Niam answered. He didn’t say a word only laughed. It didn’t sound like a jovial Christian laugh either. This one was laced with anger and a maniacal quality that made Earl finish the bottle and wish for another.

Chapter Seven

Deirdre left Scorpion’s body upstairs, lying on the floor of her old bedroom. It wasn’t a proper burial but she didn’t know what else to do. Burying her here would be an insult, hauling the body into her car was insane, and she didn’t want to think about who might show up if she set up a proper funeral pyre. There were no rites that could be performed, nothing fitting at least. Deirdre had said a prayer over her. It wasn’t much. Praying had never been her specialty. It wasn’t taught at Stone House.

Even as she descended the stairs, she hesitated to leave her mother in such a state. Maybe she could come back in a day or two. There were plenty of cemeteries, some even on holy ground that would allow one more body into their soil.

She sat on the stairs, bathed in the light from the stained glass story of some bloody battle they’d taught in school. They glorified bloody battles, breeding warriors for an army she never wanted to join. She never cared about government infiltration or infiltrating Bilderberg.

Mom hadn’t really died on the exercise field. Somehow she set up an escape.

* * * *

The order for the attack on the field had been handed down because Scorpion had disobeyed orders and not punished her daughter for the failed assassination attempt. Dragonfly would’ve gladly taken her place but the leader wouldn’t have it. The result was called Contrition. Dragonfly never knew that it was designed as a death sentence.

Scorpion was taken to the main courtyard or exercise area. There she stood in the middle and faced three of Stone House’s finest warriors. Scorpion was an exceptional fighter, and Dragonfly never feared her mother’s fate.

Silver Touch attacked first. Scorpion wasn’t permitted a weapon. She had to face the three unarmed, while they had been well supplied. Silver Touch was a vicious fighter with her favored weapon, the staff. She was tall, wiry, with a deadly reach. Scorpion fought her while avoiding Fire Fox’s steady strikes with the morning star. That was no easy task. Fire Fox grew to be an expert with the ancient weapon, sending the spike covered ball into many skulls, then pulling back hard enough to make the chain rattle before slamming it down again.

In the middle of the field Silver Touch swung the staff, Scorpion grabbed it, kicked her head, then shoved Silver Touch in the striking range of Fire Fox. Fire Fox was a large burly man but no amount of strength would pull the steel ball back from its path. Powerless to stop it, he watched the spikes go through Silver Touch’s face, blood sprayed, people cried. Silver Touch came forward with the ball hanging in her. She walked a few steps until the spikes loosened from her head, then she fell to the grass.

Spider jumped toward Scorpion next. He had an axe embossed with a spider clinging where the handle joined the head of the axe. He was a better fighter than Fire Fox. Spider had more than weapons skill, and was highly proficient in hand to hand combat. Scorpion was on the receiving end of several blows to the head while trying to keep Fire Fox at bay.

Finally, Scorpion gained enough distance and went back to Silver Touch. The long staff held in her dead hands was Scorpion’s only salvation. She pried the staff free before Fire Fox struck, missing her chest by inches. Scorpion came back, striking Spider across the head when Fire Fox came back around. She held the staff, letting the morning star’s chain wrap around the wood. Fire Fox pulled, the staff broke, but it was enough to distract Fire Fox. Scorpion shoved one broken end into the bastard’s throat. Blood flew, pulsed in a wild spray and even Dragonfly knew that Scorpion had severed his major artery.

All that remained was Spider. Dragonfly knew that her mother could take him. In her eyes there was no greater fighter, no wiser person. Scorpion was better than these people and she would win.

Spider swung with his axe while Fire Fox held his throat, falling to his knees, staining the grass. The swing was wide. Scorpion avoided it, flipping backwards. That’s what Spider wanted. Before Scorpion was able to get back into position, Spider was on her. The axe came close, cutting through her shirt in a line of red and Dragonfly couldn’t believe it. She never believed her mother could bleed.

Without reacting to the wound, Scorpion kicked, hitting his face and turning his body with the momentum of the axe. She landed another hit, finishing his balance and Spider landed on the ground. Before he could rise, Scorpion landed on him, pinning his axe arm and breaking his neck. Dragonfly could still remember the sound. It echoed through the stone risers. Several cheered, others booed, and Dragonfly stood tall and applauded, even if the crack of bone breaking was the worst sound on the planet.

Everything should’ve been over. Scorpion had faced the challenge and had been successful. Victory belonged to her and no one could challenge it. At least that’s what Dragonfly thought.

Mercury stood in the crowd, demanding something be done. Scorpion had used a weapon to defeat them. Using the enemies’ weapons against them was standard practice but this was the first Contrition that Dragonfly had ever seen and here the leaders changed the rules on a whim. She was still shocked when one of the leaders allowed Mercury to challenge her mother.

Dragonfly held her chin high, knowing Scorpion would win. Her mother fought better than any of the men, still, the giant Jamaican frightened Dragonfly. He came down through the crowd causing a hush in the masses. Scorpion looked shocked but bowed, then took her stance.

It was the look of shock that Dragonfly remembered, the wide glassy eyes, the agape mouth. Scorpion looked at her daughter, stared at her for one moment. Her mother was afraid. There was a fighter Scorpion feared.

The fight was brutal. Mercury was physically her superior and swung a sword with the best of them. After being fatigued from defeating three warriors, Scorpion didn’t have enough strength to best Mercury. They went hand to hand, Scorpion holding her own until the sword cut across her back. At the end, Mercury straddled her and slit Scorpion’s throat, her mother’s throat.

Crying wasn’t permitted, so Dragonfly sat in the stands and bit her lower lip. There, in a crowd of more than two hundred, she was alone. For the first time in her life she realized how terrible this place was. Only evil would make a child an orphan. Now she had to confront the human-faced demons, her teachers, without her mother to protect her.