Learning a New Life - 9. Chapter 9

Spring turned to Summer that lazily crept into Autumn as Michael's life settled into something that regular people would consider to be normal. His relationship with Nate progressed as well, the two becoming inseparable while at home and out for enjoyment, but with Nate still unable to come to work with Michael.

Meanwhile, Susan would periodically check in on Michael at work and chat with Avery to monitor how well Michael was fitting in. She was impressed with his progress and how his demeanor was improving with time as he adjusted to the mortal world. She kept her interactions with him a secret from her mother, and there was no reason to mention him to her boys.

But Joanna, in a way that would put most obsessive people to shame, had made it her mission to learn as much as she could about Michael. The family's grimoire, labeled plainly as The Book and likely one of the oldest and complete in existence had frustratingly offered little assistance in directly locating Michael or divining information about him and his companion.

It was during one of the many nights she had spent in the attic with The Book and her equipment that she was once again stymied and at a loss of what to do when a different approach struck her. Instead of trying to learn more about Michael or Nate, she would try for people who knew them, any previous acquaintances. It was significantly more difficult because there was almost nothing to go on, but if Michael and Nate were somehow magically shielded from direct divination, it may be the only way to learn more.

Joanna would have called her daughter but she was slightly suspicious because Susan had pressed her mother to drop the issue several times since their meeting in May. So Joanna, on her own, lit the hot plate and put on the small pot. She brought the shallow pool of water to a boil and dropped in several apple seeds. Reading from The Book, she added 2 leaves of blindweed, a pinch of cinnamon, a single clove she ground between her well worn fingers, and a stem of fresh mugwort that she had to run down to her own garden for.

After it had boiled and turned a pale green hue, she gently dropped a single lotus blossom into the brew. As soon as the blossom touched the water, it burst apart, releasing a spray of yellow into the air. The petals remained in the pot, intact, and a pale green smoke gently wafted up. Joanna peered in with a single, focused intent in her mind.

The very powerful scrying potion did not disappoint this time, now that her focus was different. When she peered in, she was momentarily surprised before she remembered from where she had originally thought she recognized Nate. Joanna walked quickly and purposefully to a large wooden shelf near the wall of her attic and scanned down the various jars before finding the one she wanted. She grabbed two very thin glass bottles and smashed one to the ground by her feet. A white smoke immediately enveloped her and she felt a cool, mist-like sensation on her skin.

A moment later, the smoke cleared and the sensation vanished and she emerged from behind O'Conner's pub downtown. The woman entered the tavern and sat where she had a clear line of sight to the bar, and she quickly ordered a cocktail. Joanna murmured a spell under her breath while staring at two young men with medium-length black, wavy hair and stubble that heavily shadowed their faces. As soon as the spell was completed, the sounds around the bar to Joanna's ears diminished to a whisper, while the conversation by the two men were as clear as though they were talking next to her.

"The funeral was nice. I'm glad you've been able to move on," one of the men stated.

"What makes you think I've moved on?" asked the other, bitterly, as he slammed his glass down on the counter for emphasis.

"John," replied the first, putting his hand on his friend's arm. "It's been five months. We went over the area ourselves before Julia called the cops. The pigs found no trace of him of course, but neither did we. What else can we do?"

"But Frank, Steve couldn't've just vanished. Killed by normal means, I would have found him immediately. Vanquished, I would have found the traces and made whoever was responsible pay."

"Shhh! Keep your voice lower, man," Frank looked around a bit nervously.

"Oh, who the hell cares? You were always too much of a worrier. I'm the one with a brother who can't be found."

"Dude, come on. We've been over this. I'm sorry, but your bro went in way over his head on his, thinking he could take on a whole clan of elves. Their magic is legend and your grimoire didn't have anything about them."

"Yeah, that's why he was going to steal their magic and slaughter them. It would have made us the most powerful warlocks in the whole fucking country!"

"Damn it, calm down!" Frank looked around and noticed some people were beginning to stare. He looked down at his own glass of whiskey he'd been nursing and started his own masking spell.

Joanna was unfamiliar with it, but she was powerful in her own right and knew more about the basics of magic than most, and she recognized the fundamental structure. She started her own local counter-spell so she could still understand what the two were talking about, while she then wrote down their spell to add to The Book.

After the brief distraction that culminated in the tavern patrons no longer paying any attention to the two men at the bar, John grudgingly looked to his companion and muttered, "Thanks."

Frank responded by flagging down the bartender and ordering John a fourth beer. When it had been served, Frank asked, "How did Steve even find them?"

John smiled wryly into his beer. "He didn't tell me directly, but he hinted. A lot. Said he had been chosen. Been picked for something special. A special mission."

"Are you sure he didn't have delusions of grandeur?"

John drank half of his glass without coming up for air before responding. "I don't know. It's possible. Or one of them could have told him."

"'Them?'"

John looked around before pulling Frank in close. "You know. A demon."

Frank pulled back. "You're shitting me."

John shook his head. "It all adds up. Been thinkin' a lot about this. Elves are really powerful illusionists, so they can't be found by normal divination and scrying. Steve wasn't that much better than either of us at potions and spells. And he was acting all weird for a few weeks before we met here that one night months ago and told us what he was gonna do. I mean, what else could it be?"

Frank sat nursing his glass while his friend's words sunk in. «What else could it be? Everything John said about Steve was right, but why would a demon contact him of all people? But on the other hand, demons don't have to make sense. They just are, and exist to cause chaos. Sure, there may be an overall plan, but no one had ever figured it out or lived to tell about it. Could a demon really have been involved with this?»

"Let's say you're right. Why would Steve do that? He's not stupid. He knows he can't take on an entire clan of elves."

"Look, I didn't say that it all made sense. But when demons are involved, doesn't have to." John finished his drink and motioned to the bartender. "Look," he continued, glancing around and moving in more closely, "I don't know if I'm right about this. Even if I am – hell, even if I'm not – I'm going to make whomever did this pay for what they did."

"Dude, you know I'm behind you. Just – you know – be careful." Frank finished his own drink as the bartender came over and the two paid, leaving a reasonable tip. As they got up and put their wallets away, Frank added, this time in a normal speaking voice, "Same time tomorrow, after work?"

"You bet."

Joanna cancelled her spells as the two left the establishment and flagged down the waitress so she could pay. She left as soon as she could, walked back down the narrow and poorly lit side street, used her potion to arrive back home, and ran down the attic stairs to find her daughter.

* * * * *

Susan and her mother walked into Sykes' Spice the next morning at 10. Susan was determined, Joanna was fuming. The conversation the previous night had not been pleasant.

After Joanna found Susan in the living room and shut off the television, she told Susan everything that she had heard, and that she found the two only after searching for some relation to Michael or Nate. Her conclusion was that somehow Michael and Nate were involved, and though she wasn't sure, she had already created an elaborate story to explain the connection.

After a few minutes of rambling, Susan finally realized she had to put a stop to her mother's speculation. That meant she had to come clean about her own involvement with Michael and Nate over the past several months and how she had hidden that from her mother. It did not help the situation.

That brought them to their mission this morning. They needed information. Joanna had insisted on bringing along a vial of truth potion to use on Michael, and though Susan knew Michael wouldn't let Joanna get near him with a vial of liquid, she knew that trying to prevent Joanna from bringing it would have been futile.

As the two entered the store, Kira was working at the front register while Michael was stocking some of the shelves. He had been brought up front about a month ago on a semi-regular basis after a full day of observation from both Susan and Avery. His social progress had been relatively fast, all things considered, and it was only in small idiosyncrasies that one may be able to tell that he still didn't quite fit in.

Kira nodded to the two women, who she knew rather well, and while Susan nodded back, her mother made a beeline for Michael. Susan caught up to her mother in time and said loudly in a happy tone, "Michael!"

He turned and smiled when he saw Susan but the corners of his mouth went slack when he saw Joanna. Likewise, Joanna appeared none too happy.

In a voice perhaps a little louder than necessary, Susan stated, "Michael, Mom and I wanted to talk about a few things with you. Let's go back to Avery's office, shall we?" She grabbed the hands of the two and led them gently but firmly towards the back. Susan knocked on the office door and Avery answered. When he saw the look on everyones' faces, he walked out the door, gestured the three in, and shut it behind him.

The scene inside the office was tense, and «clichés about cutting the air with a knife would fit well,» Susan thought. Michael and Joanna were staring at each other, both very tense. Before either might do anything they all would eventually regret, Susan started.

"Michael, we need to talk with you about what happened before you left the elves. What happened when the warlock attacked."

Michael visibly tensed further, if that was even possible, as he thought both back to that fateful day as well as what had happened to "that warlock." The thoughts running around in his head – despite his joints' stiffness – caused him to collapse backwards to a sitting position on Avery's desk.

Joanna saw her chance and sent the truth potion flying towards his open lips, but just before it reached him, a blue orb appeared in front of it and simply vaporized it. Joanna was stunned and Susan was furious while Michael seemed unphased. Susan was about to explode on her mother so that Michael would not retreat into himself further and refuse to help, but in glancing at him and taking a very peripheral sense, she realized he was not upset at what her mother tried to do.

Rather, the feelings she sensed from Michael were best summarized as derision. Michael, still sitting on the desk and facing the door, turned his head slightly to more directly face Joanna, who was at the back wall next to the door while Susan was slightly in front of her.

"You really don't get it, do you?" he asked simply.

Joanna did not answer.

"I'm not the evil one. I saved them. I saved the entire Glen."

* * * * *

Michael walked into the bar wearing a light tunic perfect for the August weather, hiding his necklace such that he didn't horribly stick out in the crowded room. He scanned around and found the table in the corner where Joanna and Susan were sitting, the former nursing a scotch and the latter a gin martini. Michael joined them and ordered a strawberry daiquiri with an umbrella; Joanna rolled her eyes.

The plan the three had agreed to that morning was simple: They would wait, watch, and listen for more information. They lingered over an hour, however, before Joanna pointed out when Frank entered, sat down at the bar, and ordered a drink. Ten minutes later, John entered and joined him. As their backs were turned, Susan this time took the opportunity to cast the spell for the three of them that muffled every else's voices to the three sets of ears at the table. The three listened intently as Frank started.

"You look different today. You look good, man. Good day at work?"

"No."

"Squish a fairy – either kind?"

"No."

"Hmm. Oh – get laid?"

"No."

"So are you going to keep me guessing, or just tell me? I already tried three times."

"I met him."

"Who?"

John looked around and then cast the spell his friend had last night, though Joanna was expecting that and had already cast a counter-spell for the three of them.

"I told you my theory last night about why Steve thought he could overwhelm the elves? You know – the whole demon thing?"

Frank nodded.

"I met him," John finished, downing his drink and signaling for another.

"I don't understand."

"After I went home last night, the demon was waiting for me. He said he offered me the same thing he offered Steve. If I could get rid of this local enclave, he offered me all their magic – all the spoils. It would make me the most powerful warlock in the world, or at least close to it. And that it could even guarantee me a place with them when I die … if I ever die."

With these last statements, Michael flashed back once again to that day so many months ago. He had already relived it once that morning, when he had told Susan and Joanna most of what he knew of what had happened.

Corther came to me the night before it all happened and reminded me it was his last night with them, but that the day of my passing on had not gone unnoticed. There would be someone waiting to destroy me and the entire Glen. It could have been coincidence, it might not have been – Corther always said he believed coincidences did not happen, that there was an overall guiding purpose for every event, no matter how small it may seem.

I needed to prepare. The elves were certain they could keep the Glen hidden from detection, and that even if not they could command enough of the forest to aid their cause. But while they seemed certain, Corther thought it a fitting parting gift for me, his foster son, should I manage his plan successfully.

He brought me to a part of the library that was hidden and to which I had never before beee. Corther directed me to a thin tome that was written in a script I didn't recognize. I learned later from your local library that it was an ancient, no longer known progenitor dialect of Arabic.

I cast the Polyphonic charm and read the short text. I was shocked – such magic was completely foreign to everything I had been taught so far, and it was dangerous. Corther smiled grimly and nodded, and then he took a small, hand-sized bag from within his robe and held it out to me.

I opened the bag and out fell a large diamond set in a simple platinum chain. "It's beautiful," I told him, admiring it and then I reached to fasten it around my neck.

"I was going to save it for tomorrow for your send-off. But with the present issue, I think this will be appropriate for the needed vessel. This stone has within it an untold power – even I do not know its origin nor the source of its magic. But it will allow you to cast the needed spell, will contain the outcome, and help remind you of me." Then Corthern turned to go and I knew what I needed to do: practice the active part of the ritual, creating the smokeless flame.

"But …" I had called after him, my eyes watering.

"This is your last test. Please, do not fail," Corther replied as he closed the door.

I spent hours – all night, in fact – trying to properly cast the charm and spell. It was only in the last desperate hour before dawn I finally managed it.

"Good."

I whipped around to see Corther standing behind me. "How long have you been there?"

"Does it matter?"

I knew the answer and gathered myself before exiting with my father and proceeding towards the clearing that was the only entrance point to the Glen. Under Corther's eyes, I cast the spell again, and at Corther's word I lay the diamond on the ground in the heart of it. In a manner and to an extent I had never seen, Corther used his own abilities and spells to mask them. Then we waited.

When Steve arrived at daybreak, the trap sprung. Steve no longer exists. I'm in love with Nate.

Michael was brought out of his memory by a sharp but gentle jab by Joanna's elbow, and the three continued to listen to the conversation coming from the two at the bar.

"So this demon comes to you and just tells you to do this and you get nothing else?"

"Hmm?"

"John, let's face it, Steve was destroyed when he tried to do this. Elves are not defenseless. Just knowing where they are is not enough."

"He told me how to reveal them, gave me the spell that would dissolve their cloaking."

"So you can see them when they kill you?"

"My inherent abilities should be more than a match for them. Fire throwing and deflection – offense and defense man, I have it made."

"Yeah yeah yeah, you're special and Mommy's ever-so-proud, we've talked about this. You still don't have nearly enough power stored up to both fend off an attack by an entire colony of elves and destroy them."

"So? That just means I take some time off from work in the next few days and go on a killing spree. Find some place nice, soak up some sun, kill some people, soak up some energy. Wanna come with? I was thinking Shanghai. I've always wanted to go there. I'll transport tomorrow and be back on Sunday morning for the elves."

Frank looked at him. "You're insane."

John stared at his friend with a very level and serious gaze. "Perhaps. Does it matter? I'm doing this. You can join me or not."

"Sorry bud, you're on your own here. I wish you luck – you'll need it."

"Suit yourself," John replied as he calmly drained his glass. "I'll miss you."

"You'll only be gone a few days."

"Yeah, but that's not what I mean." At that instant, John shoved his hand into his back pocket and pulled out an athame while at the same he thrust his other hand forward, bent at the elbow, and released a bright ball of flame that went shooting into Frank's chest. The flames consumed him at an unnatural rate but before they got too far, he plunged the knife into Frank's heart. Everyone looking only saw the murder except for Michael. Michael saw a very pale violet glow trace its way from Frank, down the knife, into John.

In the last second before Frank's head was consumed, he managed to utter a guttural, "Why?" As the question hung in the air, all that was present the next moment was a small pile of grey ash. John calmly put the knife back in his pocket before replying, "You had something I needed, and you were expendable. You were a good friend." Then he disappeared.

Someone a few tables away started to scream.