Chapter 4
by Dan Kirk
“You are looking at me like I am crazy.” Stacy said with a slight chuckle and he nodded at her. Naturally he thought she was crazy! Talking about magic as if it was real. Next she’d probably talk about Gaia and Mother Earth as if the planet had a spirit, a mind of its own! She didn’t speak though, but what she did caused him to rock back on the bed and flinch.
“It’s a simple thing of course, but in additional to being a very useful basic cantrip, it is quite satisfactory in proving the existence of magic.” Stacy stated while holding up a hand. In the palm of the hand was a ball of purple light, perfectly spherical in nature, and casting shadows on the wall, as well as bathing the room in a soft, purple radiance. She lifted her hand as if tossing a ball and as the purple sphere reached the level of her head, another sphere of light appeared in her upraised hand. This time it was red, and as her other hand ‘caught’ the purple sphere, the red went into the air, to be replaced by a green sphere. As she juggled the three spheres, a blue one appeared, followed by a yellow. The room flickered in the multi-colored lights as she juggled them for nearly a minute. Then, one by one they each disappeared until the room was lit normally again, by the sunlight from outside and the lights overhead.
He believed.
The first thing that popped into his mind was all those times he was having sex, and imagined what kind of life the other person lived. Had he just been imagining, or was he sifting through their minds, taking their memories into his own? What about all those times it was like someone was reading his mind here? Had they really heard all the things he’d been thinking?
“Only sometimes, like this moment.” Stacy said with a gentle smile. “When you get really worked up, you broadcast a bit, but then so do all young people. I thought you knew what you were doing, but you probably didn’t even realize it. That’s good. Your family has always had a different set of ethics, but if some of the things you were doing were simply because you didn’t know what you were doing, then we might be able to reach some accommodation.”
“I…I’m not sure.”
“There is a way to find out exactly what is going on in that head of yours.” She said calmly. “I still find it hard to believe that you have managed to go all these years without learning some basic control. Yes, it’s possible to go without any training and still maintain equilibrium, but people like that never really use their abilities at all. You have been using yours. Jamie’s shared how he links with you whenever you two are in close contact, and that would not be possible if you were untrained at all.”
“I think I understand what you’re talking about, but it’s not deliberate.”
“But it should not be happening at all if you have received no training.” She persisted.
“I’d remember it if I had been trained, right?” He countered.
“Not necessarily.” She said and he was surprised. “It is possible, although many consider it unethical to make you forget your training. Then you would do things on what you believe to be instinct, and quickly forget about it after.”
“I… that sounds too much like what happens.”
“I will have to do a deep reading of you.” She said with a sigh. “It’ll be best to do it in the workroom, and I’ll want Jamie there.”
“Why?” He asked, suddenly defensive. For some reason he didn’t want Jamie present at all. The idea was frightening.
“Because of the way the two of you link by instinct.” She answered. “I think, yes, he will need to be there.”
“What if I don’t want him there?”
“If you are uncomfortable with him there, then he’ll not be there.” She said in a comforting tone. He relaxed at that and she smiled. “That’s better. You know my workroom is in the basement. We can meet there. Give me about fifteen minutes to prepare, okay?”
“Is there anything I should do?” He asked a little nervously, but the momentary surge of anger was gone.
“Yes, I want you to try and think about times when you might have used your gift without really knowing what you were doing.” She answered.
“I’m not sure if you’re going to want to see that.” He said with a slight blush. Most of the things that came to his mind involved sex.
“Don’t worry, I operate by a very strict code of ethics.” She assured him. “Whatever is seen in this reading will remain private, known only to those involved. Not even
“Okay.” He said exhaling a deep breath and she nodded once more before leaving the room. Yes, he was nervous he realized as he began to do what she’d instructed. Steph, the motorcycle rider came to mind, followed quickly by Emilio, the Hispanic guy who had studied kung-fu all his life. That was where he’d gotten the moves that he’d used in the fight with that white trash at the convenience store. Even as he thought about these things, though, he could feel something stirring deep inside him, something that wanted him to forget, to explain it all away. Maybe she really had used holograms, or lasers or something for her little display. She could have set all those up while he was out of the house.
“No.” He growled to the empty room and pushed away those thoughts. Something was trying to make him forget, again, and he didn’t want that this time.
Again?
Even as he began to wonder where that word came from, he realized that slightly more than fifteen minutes had passed. With a sigh, he stood up and left his room, heading for the stairway he’d seen Richie and Jamie using to get to the basement. Down there, only a single light lit the dark, cool room filled with bottles of wine and other things he didn’t spend any time examining, even though a very strong urge came up inside him. Something was trying to distract him, and it was bothersome. Gritting his teeth, he rallied his willpower, and pushed on for a room at the far side of the cellar.
“Come in.” Stacy said as he opened the door. Passing through the doorway, he felt a buzzing sensation, and his skin tingled as if he was passing some kind of barrier. Stacy was wearing the same caftan as before, and stood in the middle of the room. There was no furniture here, just plain concrete walls that glowed softly, unnaturally, providing a soft white light in the room. It smelt like incense, and there was something inside of him snarling slightly, but he did his best to ignore it. “Welcome to my workroom, young man.”
“I… part of me doesn’t want this.” He decided to warn her.
“I expected that.” She said firmly. “Come here to me.”
“Okay.” He said and crossed from the entrance towards the middle of the room.
“You felt a buzzing sensation as you entered?” She asked him.
“Yes.” He replied.
“Good.” She said as he stopped just in front of her. He could smell her breath, faintly like cinnamon at this range. “This room has many wards built into it, to protect the rest of the house, and those inside. In here, nothing from outside can intrude, and nothing we do here can affect the outside. Only those in here, within the wards will know what transpires.”
“I think I understand.” He said.
“You do.” She smiled again. “Relax, this shouldn’t hurt at all.”
“I’m trying.”
His entire body vibrated with that touch, and it felt like a thunderclap had sounded in the room, but he knew it was just inside his head. He could feel her presence there, inside of him. Here was Jamie’s bedrock. It was like she was rooted firmly in the ground, down to the core of the Earth itself. Her cinnamon-laced breath filled him with its scent, and the room spun.
No, he was eight years old again, and quivering in the corner of his playroom. Trina, his governess was laying in the middle of the room with a line of drool dripping out of her mouth and onto the carpet. He hadn’t meant it to happen, but she’d been angry at him for refusing to put away his toys, and he’d pushed at her with his mind. His father came into the room, looking immaculate in his casual slacks and dark polo shirt, with his hair perfectly in place as always.
“
Now he was twelve, and he’d had a good day. His mother had thrown him a birthday party attended by almost all the kids near his age at the country club. It had been fun. He’d gone to bed with a smile on his face, but had woken with his father standing over him.
“
“Come here, young man.” The man said and
Cold darkness reared inside of him, and snarled its defiance at the cinnamon-tinged presence inside of him. The cold froze at the granite rock, freezing it to make it brittle, and he thought he could hear the scream of a woman in pain. Sharp teeth bit at the frozen rock, chipping away at it, and part of him screamed with the woman. He was helpless to stop it though as the cold turned even colder, until some other presence entered his already crowded head. This was a warm, gentle light that felt familiar and clicked into place within him.
Somehow that light countered the cold, even as a wind came up to blow it out. The darkness faded to be replaced by the warm light, and the rock became less brittle as it warmed. Part of him could feel Jamie’s arms around him, and he leaned backwards into the warm embrace, welcoming it as he had not really welcomed the cinnamon-tasting rock.
This was what the cold darkness was afraid of, this gentle, warm light. When it first felt the light, it thought it could conquer it as it had so many others, but the light was stronger, and so it had hid deeper in its home. Hiding deeper kept it from discovery, but it also lost some of its control. Feelings that were normally turned aside were allowed to flourish, and the rigid controls it had set grew lax. New thoughts were allowed to grow into patterns never before allowed, and now the rock and the light moved together to expose more of its secrets.
Once a week, his Housemaster would come late at night, and he would follow him down into a room beneath his dormitory. Most of the time it would be just the two of them, but on occasion he would practice with one of the other students. At first the lessons were simple.
“Reach into yourself, feel your connection to the Earth, and ground yourself so that your power has a base.” The man instructed, and
Shielding was even easier, keeping his thoughts inside. That he had been taught from earliest childhood. Here he remembered everything, from the first time he had accidentally crushed the mind of a governess and his father’s rueful shake of his head at that. It was bothersome to clean up the mess, but that was all his father worried about. Otherwise, he was proud his son who was so strong at such a young age.
As he learned early on, the shields of his classmates were like poorly patched holes compared to his, and he was constantly sensing things from them. Which ones were sad, or jealous came easily to his mind, and he could slip little tendrils of thought into them, forcing them to do what he wanted. Most of the time it was instinctive, because each time he left the Housemaster’s workroom, his memories of his training and his abilities was subsumed, given over to the cold darkness.
At home during the summer, his father took over his training, talking mostly about ways to use the things he had learned in business and the world. Each time they finished the discussion, his mind would be put to sleep. At first it didn’t make sense why they would put part of him to sleep, but he grew to understand as the years went by.
It was that first summer, shortly before he turned thirteen that he woke for the first time outside of his training. He knew what sex was, and he knew what the feelings inside of him meant. His father’s only advice on the subject was to never get a girl pregnant, or make sure she aborted if it did happen, and to always make sure whoever he slept with would not spread tales. Part of him had been unlocked for that, at an instinctive level, but his father had been thinking about something else when he set that, and unlocked more than he expected.
He knew what to do because he lifted the information right from the teenager’s mind, and he got more than that as well. His last lessons at school had been about scanning a person’s mind, and he did it instinctively as his conscious mind imagined what it would be like to be this gardener, this older teenager. This set the pattern for what was to come, and always as he ransacked the mind of a partner during sex, he left them with a deep sense of shame, and a desire to never mention it to anyone. Sometimes it didn’t quite work, and money was required, but those were few and far between.
When his father found what he’d been doing, the man had laughed and tweaked his controls on his son to encourage it more. He had worried his son might one day wonder what life was like for others, and he knew the pitfall such daydreaming could become. His wife’s sister had fallen into that trap, and turned her back on the family. The elder
It was just a few months ago that his training at school took a new turn.
No, that last year
It was on the last day of the term that Brandon Meyers had been brought to the training room.
“You know it is possible to drain power from living things.” The Master said in his deep voice. “We do this slowly, normally, but on occasion it is necessary to have more power very quickly. This boy is a channel. He is gifted, but can do only the most basic of things on his own. His real use, his best use, is to provide power for someone like you. This is his sole purpose in life, and tonight he will be bonded to you so that for anyone else he is worthless, but for you he will always provide the support and power you need.”
“This is what Randall Smythe is, for my father.”
The answer had come bubbling to the surface of his mind as their blood mingled from the many cuts on Brandon during the ceremony, and in each one, over each of the body’s natural nexus points, Worthington shed a single drop of his own. Heart, Mind, Mouth, Eyes, Ears, Smell, Taste, Arm, Hand, Leg, and even Genitals were cut ever so slightly and a drop of
Brandon Meyers knew he would have a place in life, security, all the things he craved. He knew of Randall Smythe. The attorney had been one of his teachers in the early years, and he knew his life would by like Smythe’s dedicated to the Sinclairs, and that he would never want for money, or security. That was enough for
There was more, but for a moment,
As surely as he knew why
Nor did he resist, because he knew the time would come when he could claim the power as his own. He would bide his time until then, and each time they put part of him back to sleep, he went willingly, waiting for the day when he would wake for the final time, and never return to sleep. That day would be soon after his graduation, when he turned eighteen, and could claim the full right of a Sinclair adult.
That day was still years off, and the lightning had come before. Oh yes, he’d been partially awake, savoring the life of the laborer even as he savored the older boy’s body. It had been a nice body, and an even nicer soul, filled with hopes and dreams. How he savored those, and even more savored the new skills they brought with them. Lightness of feet, from years of kicking a soccer ball, a desire to succeed, to improve, but he was ready to reject the happiness that shined in that soul, the ability to get along with nearly anyone, and enjoy their company. Those were not things that he needed to succeed as a Sinclair. He wanted skills that would make him better, always improving, not skills that would make him weak. Sure he could use the suave personal skills that allowed this guy to get along with almost everyone, to have people like him, but he couldn’t take them without also taking in the way this guy looked at other people, accepted other people, and valued other people. They were locked hand-in-hand, and he didn’t need such goody-goody feelings cluttering up his life.
Then the lightning struck.
The house was warded of course, protected from such attacks by other powers. The Sinclairs had many enemies, and some of them were gifted. This attack though, penetrated through the shielding like it was tissue paper, and struck where most of the family was gathered. Another fork of the lightning struck towards the youngest Sinclair, but buttressed against the stronger personal shields that he always erected unknowingly when he was doing this with another boy. Once, his father had interrupted, and the interruption had left the boy nearly brain-dead. That was why, when he took another boy to his bed, the silent part of him, the sleeper deep inside that always acted without his knowing or understanding would throw up strong shields to keep from being interrupted.
It was those shields that saved his life. The lightning left little more than a scorch mark outside his room, but inside the room it had a more profound effect. That was because there had been nothing natural about the lightning. It was mage-summoned lightning, and the mage doing the summoning was strong, and had something special beyond normal magery behind the attack. There was something spiritual to the flavor, and it was a Sinclair, which was how it slipped past the most powerful of the defense spells on the estate.
Most Sinclairs were so powerful they didn’t need that method.
David William Sinclair, younger brother of Worthington Michael Sinclair the Fourth did need it, and got it from the ‘Christian’ worshipers who followed him. He had probably been hoarding their power, leeching it from them for years in order to make the three lightning bolts that had hit the Sinclair estates. In some ways he could have leveled a mountain easier than that strike.
His bolt meant for
Qualities that were the antithesis of
They were not immediately evident in him, but when
Then had come Jamie and his damn hand.
The bedrock in
Jamie linked with
But his plans had been foiled when a seer had told him his wife would be unable to bear more than one son. He could sire children on other women, but they wouldn’t have the power of a Sinclair/Bradwell match. He had known it would be a difficult birth, and she would never bear another child before he even married her. As with every Sinclair before him, he had hired the services of the oldest, most powerful Seer in the world. She died two years later, but her answers to his questions had given him the answers he needed.
No Seer would tell you when you were fated to die. Such things were forbidden by ancient codes that not even a Sinclair would violate. Still, the questions he asked were about new life, not death, and so he spent money to accomplish what he needed. He knew of his wife’s sister, the lesbian who had rejected her family to live as she wanted openly.
The seer had told him that if he wanted a second son, it would have to be from her, and so he had bribed the fertility clinic she was using to conceive a child. Her partner had conceived a child there the year before, and she wanted one of her own.
The light embracing
Now though, it was discovered, and it knew that it was in danger.
Then the Stacy bitch had intervened. Oh how it had tried to sway
The dark heart that resided in
Without hesitation, the darkness changed again, becoming the cold, vast empty void of deep space, sucking away the warmth of that light. Deep in space, there were things that even light could not penetrate, things that swallowed light itself, and the darkness became that thing, sucking in the now-flickering bits and pieces of light that were Jamie Bradwell. The fact that the strange part of itself, the part that had awakened in the last few weeks was being sucked into it was a bonus. There they would meld, become one again, with the darkness in control. The rock was splitting and would be easy to finish off, leaving it to reshape that which had been Jamie into something like it, so that there would be two instead of one. That had been the plan by its creator, by the Fourth, and it would carry it through.
Not my son you don’t! The mental cry was filled with all the fury of a mother protecting her cub, and the darkness trembled as a new force entered the battle. Even a black hole had its limits, and the force that swept into the battle filled it with so much concentrated furious red light that it couldn’t absorb it all at once. It was too much, and everything it had swallowed burst out, free from its grip.
The blackness knew when the fight was lost, and as the rock healed, and once again became a bastion of support for the others, it retreated. Over a lifetime it had spun itself into the corners and recesses of this mind, and no matter how many webs they burned, there would be more still hidden. Even as the three outside presences sought to do just that, the darkness retreated further and further.
The hunters went after all the webs they could find, and the darkness was hard-pressed not to laugh when they stopped, convinced they had gotten all of it.
It would take time.
They would be watching, waiting just in case it came back, so it would have to hide deep, in the deepest recesses of
Even as the other presences gathered up the tattered bits and pieces that was
There were elements of young
The father had taken steps when he discovered the near-ruining of his son. The woman was sent away, and died a week later in a freak auto accident. To kill the damage done, the father had created the darkness, to spin its web and keep his son on the right path. It knew that now, and would bide its time to set the son on the right path again.
Time was its ally.
