Maksym Pachesiuk
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Wizard's First Lesson - Chapter 11
🕑 Added 2025-02-04 20:19:35 +0000 UTC“Harry,” I knocked on the door to his office and walked in without waiting, “I’ve got two urgent matters to discuss with you.”
The wizard gave me a tired look from under his brow, tugged nervously at his beard, and set aside the stack of papers – if you could call it that. The desk was buried under piles of handwritten sheets, but there were even more pinned to the walls and floor. Near the corner of the room, the notes were so densely packed that they formed a complete covering, on which Harry had drawn a full-scale replica of the arch. On the floor, there was another drawing, but this one mirrored the lines above it, leaving the empty spaces to be filled with runes, shapes, and symbols.
“Don’t step on it,” Harry warned.
“Wow, you’ve really got things in full swing.”
“Full swing? Hardly!” Harry waved his hand irritably and ripped a couple of sheets off the wall with telekinesis. The arch remained untouched, as he’d only snagged the notes around it.
“How’d it go at the library?” I decided to distract him and ease into my request.
“Fine. I restored your newspapers. Don’t do anything stupid again. And if you want to use the search system, the schematic…” Harry rummaged through and shuffled his papers until he found the one he needed.
I approached the desk, carefully navigating the clearest path through the paper chaos, and took the schematic drawn on a sturdy yellow sheet.
“A cross, a four-pointed star, four rings, and a couple dozen runes… And you said I wasn’t ready for complex spells like this?”
“Think you can recreate it without the sheet?”
“I could copy it.”
“Ha! Is that so?” Harry even clapped his hands in mock amusement. “Open your eye.”
I focused on the subtle layers of etheric energy and saw that the ink lines – and even the paper itself – had a faint ethereal glow, which turned the schematic from a simple spell diagram into a functional search amulet.
“Guess I’d better not lose this,” I concluded.
“Please don’t. That thing took me half an hour. Now, what do you want?”
I glanced at the wizard’s displeased expression and decided to sweeten the pill first. I told him I’d found a lawyer, then moved on to asking for protection from the ghost for the night and cautiously inquired about his progress on my susceptibility to compulsion.
Harry squinted suspiciously.
“I can fix it right now,” he said. “No creep will be able to mess with your head anymore. Unless they’re an absolute master.”
“Seriously?” I asked, wary. Good news doesn’t usually come with such a sinister look.
“Not a problem. Twenty minutes working with silver and stones, ten more for the procedure, and you’re good to go.”
“What procedure?”
“I didn’t mention that?” A wicked grin crept onto Harry’s face. “We take a little silver, make it into a thin wire, shape it into a lens – big enough to cover your third eye. Protection runes, rejection and filtration symbols, a few more lines and marks – we flatten it thinner than paper, then cut the skin on your forehead to secure it to the bone. You’ve got good healing potions; it won’t even leave a scar.”
I narrowed my eyes in disbelief.
“You said the natural protection would restore itself.”
“Not in a day! And here you are, expecting miracles!”
“Harry, I’m supposed to meet Gratch today.”
“Then keep your head down, Duncan. John’s not dragging you there to risk your neck.”
“Then what’s the point? With the baronet and the judge, at least it made sense. He’s got issues with the judge, and the baronet is about my age – we crossed paths at the reception... But why drag me to the vampires? Does he want to play on my ‘special’ relationship with Kate?”
“No, just to use you as a scarecrow,” Harry replied.
“A scarecrow? What for?”
“He’s going to scare her with you. You met two fathers, and both of them ended up dead. But keep a clear head about it. Who’s assigned to guard you tonight?”
“Some shifters from a Police Special Squad.”
“Good. Remember this: the fighting and intimidation – that’s their job, not yours. You’re just there to observe, stay quiet, and remember everything.”
“Got it… What about the ghost?”
“The ghost…” the wizard said. “Let’s kick his arse.”
We descended into the chamber where the ether was gathering. Harry grumbled something about the mansion needing a rebuild, then pulled out his spellbook and got to work. There were far fewer this time, but they reawakened old seals, as if they’d been carved into the ether itself – or maybe they actually had been. Symbols on the walls, floor, and ceiling flared with magic, lighting the room better than any lantern.
I noticed how the multi-layered ring of symbols, where I’d stood last time, had been renewed.
“There?” I asked.
“Yeah, and don’t move,” Harry ordered.
Harry refreshed his octogram, the triangle inside the ring between us, and the smaller rings scattered throughout the room. He drew a rune of materialization in the air, infused it with power, and activated it.
A wave of magic surged through the hall, struck the marks on the walls, and then rolled back. Simple traps began filling with specters, but there were far fewer than before – just three rats and a dog.
I braced myself for Simon’s appearance. The wave reached us, and he materialized in the trap, just as solid and opaque as the first time.
“Hello,” I smiled.
“Goodbye, loser,” Simon sneered, grinning with his one eye.
Harry lit a blue flame in his hand and thrust it toward the hole where the back of Simon’s head should have been, but Simon tilted his head to the side unexpectedly, and Harry’s hand met empty air.
Simon spun around sharply, grabbed Harry by the wrist, and jabbed his left index finger into the flame. His finger ignited, Simon growled in pain, and he let go of Harry, who was too stunned to react. Simon’s finger turned blue, became transparent, and began to lose its shape.
The ghost crouched down and jammed his finger into one of the triangle’s corners that formed the trap. The fire jumped to the lines, the trap’s invisible walls flared with mirrored reflections, and Harry cursed before striking at Simon again with his flaming hand.
Simon dodged easily once more and burst into a mad laugh. The walls of the trap glowed and crackled like logs in a fire.
“Not this time, old man!” Simon declared, shaking his hand as the rest of it fell to the floor in a lump of burning ectoplasm.
“Harry?” I couldn’t help but ask. “Am I really supposed to stay still?”
“Stay where you are!” the wizard barked, flipping through a dozen pages of his spellbook with a wave of his hand.
“You think you’re clever?!” Harry growled, tearing a multi-pointed star from the page. He made a sweeping gesture with his hands, turning it into a three-dimensional figure. Fire, air, steel, magma, ice, and ether runes lit up at its center and on its tips.
Simon stopped laughing.
Harry raised the star high, and just as the trap’s defenses began to collapse, he brought it down hard on the ghost.
Simon’s features blurred as he twisted into a vortex, trying to escape. It didn’t work. Ice froze the smeared figure in place, sharp points crushed and sliced the etheric flesh, and fire devoured what remained.
The scattered pieces of Simon’s form wriggled and writhed. Somehow, his head survived longer than the rest of his body. Mostly intact, it let out a final scream of rage and pain before disintegrating.
I was impressed and gave an enthusiastic round of applause.
“I want to do that.”
“When you grow up,” Harry grumbled like an old man, “get older, take on a student with a cartload of problems – then sure, go ahead.”
“Ha-ha. Says the guy whose baggage is any lighter. What was that?”
“A hybrid of a meteor and an ice star. Made it myself.”
“I wasn’t talking about the spell. Simon almost got away. His cunning is off the charts.”
“Not if you consider that he might be a future higher etherial.”
“What!?” I exclaimed. “No! No, no, and absolutely not! The last thing I need is an immortal, all-powerful ghost as an enemy! Ferrish was more than enough, and compared to Simon, he’s practically an angel.”
“Calm down,” Harry said. “To become a higher etherial, he’d need to resolve his earthly issues first.”
"You mean he has to kill me?"
“Most likely.”
I shot Harry a meaningful look.
“You’re not the center of the universe. Bastards can have grand goals too, and they’re not always about revenge. Though… it’s rarely anything good. Now get out of here. I’ve still got rats to deal with.”
“Last time, you wouldn’t let me leave until you finished with the other ghosts.”
“I’ve refined the ritual.”
“Fine.” I stepped aside, making sure the specters didn’t vanish or lunge at me, and decided to confirm one last thing. “He’s not coming back, right?”
“Not today.”
Harry began gesturing with his hands, and the ghosts in the traps flared blue. The ritual followed its usual course. Next, he’d clench his fist, the ghosts would burst into smoke, and Harry would condense it into ectoplasm drops to collect in vials. And he’s worried about construction? The cabinet under his wall already had enough vials to stock a small castle, let alone this mansion. Bremor could foot the bill and build it for him.
“Harry!”
“Now what?!”
“The clan has its own construction company in Avoc. They use earth magic in their work. The architects are top-notch. Peter Lough, for instance, graduated from Charlesbridge with a degree in architecture, interned in the capital, and spent a few years in America building skyscrapers. He could handle the mansion. You could pay with ectoplasm.”
“I’ll think about it,” Harry nodded.
Well, there you go. The day wasn’t wasted. Slowly but surely, I’m repaying the clan’s debt. Now if only I could make some money for myself... Wait! If I buy land in the slums, I could hire the guys for construction, and the finished houses would sell for more.
Damn it! It all comes down to money again. I might have enough for the land, but I can’t afford the construction. All right, focus. Vampires… Damn vampires.
At half-past eleven, Sunset was waiting at the gates of the Anvil. Unlike me, he didn’t bother changing into something else, sticking with the same work clothes he’d worn all day. The two guys in the back seat hadn’t dressed up either. Quite the pair – nearly identical faces, but one could easily tuck the other under his arm.
“Meet the Kilworth brothers,” John said, steering onto the road.
“Roger,” said the smaller one, quickly extending his hand over the back of the front seat. His hand was small but strong and tough as stone.
The bigger brother was slower. Even his name came out more deliberately, despite being only three letters long.
“Yan,” he said, offering his large, soft hand.
“Not to be rude,” I began, “but who are you, exactly?”
“Your security, kid,” Roger replied, though he wasn’t much bigger than me.
“Not what I meant. Spirits?”
“Badger,” Roger grinned.
“Bear,” Yan rumbled.
Not bad. This pair complemented each other perfectly, covering each other’s weaknesses. These two could definitely turn a few bloodsuckers into dust.
By midnight, we were at the Golden Tear. We boldly skipped the line, drawing a chorus of protests from the partygoers, and approached the bouncers guarding the entrance.
“Not so fast, boys!” one of the bouncers said, blocking our path with a hand on John’s chest. He wore a flawless black suit and was a massive brute, though he still looked a bit outclassed next to Yan. The bear stood half a head taller and had broader shoulders.
But Yan trailed at the back, while John led the way. It was John’s chest the bouncer’s hand now pressed against.
“This is an elite establishment,” the bouncer sneered. “Not for ragged riffraff. I suggest you change out of those rags into something more presentable and try your luck at the end of the line.”
“I have an invitation,” John said calmly, shoving a badge right under the bouncer’s nose. The guard had to lean back and squint to get a look at the tin crown.
“My apologies, sir. I’ll inform…”
“Yan,” Sunset interrupted.
The bear shifter stepped forward, reaching for the bouncer’s tie with his massive hand. As soon as he grabbed it, his hand sprouted coarse fur, his eyes gleamed yellow, and fangs appeared in his mouth. He yanked the guard closer and growled right into his face:
“We’re going in.”
But the bouncer wasn’t as simple as he looked. His eyes glinted in turn, revealing sharp wolfish features. In an instant, a revolver appeared in his hand, its barrel pressing firmly against Yan’s chin.
“I’ll inform…”
“We’re going in!” Roger said, grabbing the wolf by the throat with his massive clawed left hand while his right hand trained a pistol on the other guards.
“Looking to spend the night in jail?” Sunset barked at the security team. “I’ll have you out of those suits and into prison uniforms in no time! Stand down!”
The guards backed off. Yan moved the revolver away from his chin and snatched it out of the wolf’s hand, while Roger released his grip on the guard’s throat. His bear brother gave the man a shove, sending him stumbling back onto the pavement. The guard landed gracefully on his feet, straightened his tie, and glared at us with blazing yellow eyes.
“What kind of badge are you hiding behind, heroes?” he snarled.
“Why complain?” Roger replied. “That badge is the only thing keeping us from killing your kind on sight.”
“That’s enough!” John ordered, stepping through the door first.
This time, the club wasn’t blaring music. A lone trumpeter on stage played mournful notes, and the dance floor was sparsely occupied. However, there was no shortage of fake smiles and glitzy glamour. The clinking of glasses was louder than anything else – in the brief moment I took to look around, two champagne corks popped, and a single glass shattered.
Sunset didn’t linger and made his way straight to the center of the room. This vampiric matriarch clearly loved being the center of attention; the electric lights and diamonds ensured she could shine.
I didn’t recognize Nina at first – having only seen her in photographs – but I easily identified her lover, Kettle, and from him, deduced who the vampire was.
Gratch was dressed in a long yellow gown with a blue sash, blue gloves adorned with rings on every finger, and a necklace whose value I couldn’t even begin to estimate.
She looked young. Definitely older than Ellie but probably younger than Finella. However, there was far too much womanliness in her girlish appearance, and no hint that she was a centuries-old killer with more than five hundred years of experience. From the tips of her blue heels to the ends of her jet-black hair, Nina exuded elegance, and she knew how to flaunt it.
I might have believed that the scoundrel Kettle hadn’t noticed us approaching because he was so captivated by his lady. But the idea that she didn’t notice us as we purposefully crossed the room toward her? Not a chance.
I was right. We were just a few steps away when two men from a neighboring table silently moved their chairs and joined the couple. This clearly puzzled the baronet.
A familiar voice suddenly called out:
“Duncan!”
I flinched and looked up.
A fiery mane on the balcony immediately caught my attention. Finella waved enthusiastically.
I’d suspected I might run into the red-headed wild card here, but seeing her seated at the same table as Ellie and Kate Lindemann? That, I wasn’t sure how to process. I rarely curse, but this time I borrowed a few choice words from Knuckles’ vocabulary and quickly pressed a finger to my lips. Too late. The girls had been noticed. I suspect they were noticed much earlier. Kate wore less jewelry, but her bright red dress stood out, and the people in her company were always worth noticing. Now, however, Finella had drawn a direct connection between me and their company.
“Duncan!” Simon called out. “Finella!” He waved toward the balcony. Then, something seemed to click in his alcohol-clouded brain, and his demeanor grew more serious. “Detective,” he greeted.
“Detective Sunset,” Nina purred, throwing a fleeting glance at the balcony. She’d noticed the girls. “It’s been a while. What am I being accused of this time? I won’t offer you a seat; as you can see, all the chairs are taken.”
“Don’t worry, my lady!” Roger smiled. “We’ll clear some space for you. Though it’s odd – feels like we’ve already tossed this trash out before. Right, Yan?”
The bear nodded solemnly.
“Johnny, what are these unruly pups you’ve brought along today?” Nina asked, taking a sip of champagne.
“The same ones,” Roger said loudly, “who dragged your face across the floor two years ago. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?”
The stem of Nina’s glass cracked in her hand, but miraculously, the pieces didn’t fall. She managed to hold them steady. Her eyes filled with blood, her fangs emerged, and the air around her was so thick with murderous intent that even Kettle flinched in surprise.
“Are we going to play word games, or are we actually going to talk?” John asked.
“If you want to talk, summon me to the precinct,” the vampire replied. “But right now, kindly leave and stop ruining my evening.”
“It’s already ruined,” John said flatly. “We’ll either talk now, or I’ll take your toy away.”
“What?” Nina blinked, not understanding.
“Not what. Who.”
“On what grounds?” the vampire dismissed the suggestion.
“Suspicion of the murder of Valerie Lindemann.”
“You’re delusional!”
“Sir Kettle,” John said, pulling a pair of handcuffs from his pocket. “I’m afraid you’ll be spending the night in a cell.”
Nina shot to her feet, and the vampires at her table stood with her in perfect unison – along with two other pairs from nearby tables. Whatever Harry said about staying calm, I wasn’t taking any chances. I pulled my pistol, and it made me feel a lot better. Especially since the magazine was fully loaded with fire apples.
The shifters armed themselves as well. Roger wielded a revolver in each hand, while Yan pulled out a cleaver and a sawed-off shotgun. Only John remained unfazed.
From the balcony, Ellie jumped down, and Finella ignited flames in her hands.
God, where are you two doing!?
“If you don’t leash your dogs,” Sunset said, “then we’ll talk tonight – on entirely different terms.”
Nina regained her composure, donning the mask of a carefree beauty, and waved her hand. The vampires sat down in perfect synchronicity.
“I’ll remember this evening, Johnny.” She looked each of us in the eye, then glanced at the girls on the balcony and at Kate before turning back to Kettle. The vampire pulled him close and kissed him passionately. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of this.”
“I’m so moved I might cry,” John muttered. “Let’s not waste time.”
Simon hesitantly stepped around the table and held out his hands. Sunset clasped the cuffs on his wrists and gave him a pat on the back.
“Let’s go.”
We turned to leave, letting the shifters keep the situation under control. They didn’t lower their weapons.
“Frank,” Nina called out, her voice sharp. “Find out who those little bitches are with the red.”
I couldn’t hold back this time. Her words were clearly aimed at us – a veiled threat if I’d ever heard one.
I turned back.
“Don’t bother too much. The last bloodsuckers who got curious about them didn’t end well.”
“Oh,” Nina said, feigning calm. “Frank knows how to be careful.”
“Valentine and Lindemann thought so too,” I replied, wiping the smirk off her face. “Good evening.”
Comments
Jonathan Griffith
Tyftc!
