The Magic Shop

Nevada State





The crowd began to murmur just as a loud bang rang out from somewhere down the hall. It was like an explosion, powerful enough to demand everyone’s attention.

“What was that?” Pat asked, lowering her arms after her initial reaction caused her to raise them defensively.

“Call Roger on the radio,” Ellie said, turning back to the group. “I’m sure he can tell us.” Marcus watched his sister retch as she saw the table where her uncle had been. She was going to be sick.

“Roger’s not available,” Pat said. “He’s not like us, so when something like this happens, we kind of knock him out.” After the shocked looks the children gave her, she added sheepishly, “He’s never been the wiser for it.”

“So who is on security detail, then?” Marcus asked.

They heard another loud crash, this time followed by screams echoing throughout the hall. Then Marcus heard a voice he had hoped he would never hear again in his life.

“Where are they?” a shrill voice that was now all-too-familiar to Marcus shrieked. “We know they’re here.”

Marcus watched through the door as the crowd of wary patients parted in the hallway and hugged the walls. Winston ran to the door, and then leaned on the frame for support. Upon seeing the intruder, however, he stood a little taller and drew in a deep breath. He looked numb as he worked his way into the hall, walking as if he had been waiting for this moment for a very long time. Marcus followed him cautiously with Ellie, still wiping her eyes, in tow.

As they entered the patient-lined hallway behind their grandpa, Marcus saw Mirella and Sol, as mad and healthy as ever, very much in contrast to when he saw them on the ground, clutching their chests as Marcus and the others escaped The Magic Box.

“You know why we’re here, Winston,” Mirella said, breathing heavily. She held up a crystal vial and waved it at him mockingly. Red tendrils bounced against its walls, changing shapes and evolving dynamically. ”We’ve come for the children. The blood potion has finally matured, and, of course, it’s conclusive. No mistakes.” She threw the vial at Winston’s feet. It shattered, spraying clumpy, purple liquid on the ground. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“How could you?” Sol asked, shaking his fist and raising his voice.

“No,” Winston said blankly, shaking his head, his voice cracking. “Not now. Caleb just died. You won’t take what’s left of my family from me.”

“Did you really just say that?” Mirella asked, exasperated.

For a moment, Sol said nothing. He stared coldly into Winston’s eyes, and then said, “Caleb should have never meddled in my business, but that’s between us.”

“Marcus. Ellie,” Mirella said, focusing on the children, her voice sweeter somehow, “that’s what they’ve called you, isn’t it? Come along with us, and we’ll explain away all the lies.”

Ellie gasped. “Why would we go anywhere with you… murderers?”

“There you have it,” Winston shouted, pointing a rigid finger back the way they came. “Now leave, at once.”

“You are a crazy old coon, aren’t you? We’re not going anywhere without the children,” Sol said. “Not this time.”

Without warning, Charlotte darted out from the crowd and dashed at the intruders, screaming, “No!”

Sol lifted his cane and fired a red jet of magic at Charlotte, connecting with her torso. She fell backward immediately, as if she had slipped on something on the ground.

“Grams,” Ellie cried, and she ran over and kneeled at her grandmother’s side, tears welling in her eyes.

“What a front you had going, Winston,” Sol said as he advanced. “All this time we thought that there was just some other magic shop down the street that we were taking business from, that these were just some ordinary kids.”

“What does the Dun-Bhar care about children?” Anabell asked, surfacing from the crowd. Tears streamed from her eyes, and down her cheeks. “Other than to steal their magic and leave them for dead? That’s all anyone is to you, a vessel, to be overtaken and consumed. You take and you kill. No one is safe around you.”

Sol took another step forward, like he would lunge at her. But, unless Marcus was mistaken, he thought he saw a tear in his eye and a shadow pass over his face. “What did you tell them?”

“Enough,” Winston said as he removed his brim. “This ends now.”

Sol seemed to gain his composure at Winston’s threats. Any humanity that Marcus had seen in his face was swallowed up in the anger that surfaced. “Then that doesn’t make us too different, does it, Winston?” Sol asked.

Then Marcus saw Mirella’s lips quiver, and then she burst out, “Give me back my children.”

The room fell silent.

“What?” Marcus asked, stunned.

“Shut your mouth,” Winston said as he shot a bolt of energy at Sol that he deflected with a mere wave of his cane.

“Of course, you never bothered telling them that, did you?” Sol asked spitefully. “What did you say when they asked you what happened to their parents, some stupid cliché, like a car crash? Or did you put a little more creativity into your story?”

“Did you even tell them about us?” Mirella asked, swallowing hard.

“Liar,” Ellie screamed, her eyes pleading for an explanation. “Grandpa, tell them it’s not true. Please tell them.”

The kids’ grandfather wore a pained expression on his face, like he had a cut that wouldn’t heal. “I…,” Winston said through gritted teeth, “I can’t.”

“It’s not true,” Marcus said, lashing out. He could feel hot anger welling up inside him that he hadn’t felt in some time. “Did he spell you to say that, Grandpa? Is this some kind of mind control thing he can do?”

“No, no, my children,” Mirella said, getting down on one knee and opening her arms. “It’s the truth. Come see your mother.”

“You’re not my mother. You tried to kill me,” Ellie spat, looking directly at her without breaking eye contact, “And even if you were, I wouldn’t want you.”

Mirella clutched at her neck and gasped for air, like she had something stuck in her throat. Then Sol stepped forward, teeth gnashing. ”Never speak to your mother that way again,” he hissed. “You will show her some respect.”

“Those are big words for a coward,” Marcus said. “You just shot an old woman to the ground; the one that actually mothered us. You have to earn respect.”

“You’re confused, Son,” Sol said, his oily voice sounding softer. “You’re confused and upset. I’m afraid there is only one remedy for your confusion.” He lifted his cane, and with anger in his countenance, sent a furious barrage of electric magic at Charlotte.

She arched off the floor as if something had bitten her lower back, and then she screamed and writhed on the ground. “Make it stop,” she said, clawing at the ground.

“This is your doing, Marcus,” Sol said. “You have but one mother, and now we will remove any confusion. Who is your mother, Marcus?”

“No!” Winston exclaimed as he hurled a large bolt of energy at Mirella, sending her screaming in pain to topple to the ground behind Sol. Then she was silent. She didn’t move.

Sol immediately turned his anger toward Winston, letting up on Charlotte, who continued to twist on the floor a moment, and then stopped.

Pat motioned for her brim, but Winston waved her off seriously. “This is my fight, Pat. I started it, and I must be the one to end it now.”

Back and forth, Winston and Sol fired wild bursts of magic at each other down the hallway. Everyone took cover where they could. The patients hid behind overturned tables and beds. Marcus and the others rounded the corner of the hall opposite Sol and Mirella.

Then, just like that, a bolt of magic struck Winston in the shoulder, sending him toppling to the ground. He clutched his arm, seemingly unable to move, and then lost consciousness.

Pat reached for her brim.

“Grandpa,” Ellie shouted as she reached for him.

Sol laughed and advanced toward the children. “Playtime’s over, kids. It’s time to go,” he said.

Marcus was furious. He couldn’t sit by and let this happen to his family. He lifted his brim to attack Sol, but a burst of magic struck his hand just as he raised it, and he lost the sphere.

Sol clicked his tongue. “Don’t tempt me, Son.”

“Stop calling me that,” Marcus said as he cradled his hand, “I’m not your son.”

Then, without explanation, Pat yelled, “Now!”

The patients shot up from cover simultaneously, pulled out their own brims from their robes, and cast a barrage of magic at Sol. Completely surprised, Sol did the only thing he could do: he dove to the ground and scrambled behind the corner at his end of the hall, a stunned expression flashing across his face. He popped out from around the corner from time to time, and returned fire. He didn’t look nearly as confident as he had just moments earlier.

“Hurry,” Pat said, sounding proud of herself, “we won’t have long. We have to get you out of here.”

“Somebody help them,” Ellie yelled as one by one, the bodies of the patients began dropping all around them. With some effort, Pat helped Marcus and Ellie pull their grandparents across the floor and around their corner of the hall to safety.

“What’s happening?” Marcus asked as he saw a patient next to him fall to the ground after being struck by a blaze of magic. There was no blood, just a large hole in his chest.

Marcus covered his mouth. “I thought they were sick?”

“Some of them are,” Pat said as another patient fell, “but most are like Anabell. Think of this as a refuge for people like us. They come and go as they please, but they play the part during visitor hours.”

“Look, they’re pushing him back,” Ellie said, clapping. Then she pointed to the advancing group of Nevada State patients closing in on Sol.

“I’m getting Mirella,” Marcus said as he jumped out behind the patients and followed them as they advanced down the middle of the hall, ducking and dodging the magical blasts in their wake.

Ellie ran after him.

Marcus collected his brim. “What are you doing?” he asked as Ellie caught up to him. “Are you nuts?”

“I couldn’t let you risk it alone,” Ellie said as she ducked a jet of magic and grabbed Mirella’s legs. Marcus grabbed her arms.

“I just couldn’t leave her behind,” Marcus said. “I had to save her.”

“From what,” Ellie asked, “fate?”

“From Sol,” Marcus said, “from herself. I don’t know. I just can’t leave her here. There are too many unanswered questions.” They lugged her back down the hall towards their grandparents and Pat.

“What?” Marcus asked when he saw the angry looks on his family’s faces.

Pat wore a scowl on her face. “What were you thinking?” Pat asked as she smacked Marcus on the arm. “That was very foolish, not to mention dangerous. You could have been severely hurt, or gotten your sister killed.”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” he said, wincing and rubbing his arm. “I had to get her, okay?”

“Oh, no,” Ellie said pointing at several other patients as they fell to the ground. “How can we help those poor people?” The bodies in the hall were beginning to pile up.

“I wish there was something we could do, Ellie,” Pat said as she tightened her lip. “But they knew the risk was coming here.”

“Come on,” Marcus said, “I have my brim and know how to—”

“They’re more much more experienced than you are, Marcus, and they’ve trained for this day.” Pat wiped her forehead. “Look, we’ve got to get your family out of here. The problem is that there is only one way out, and Sol is blocking it.”

“Then we’ll have to have to go through him,” Marcus said. Then he turned just in time to witness the last of the patients fall to the ground, and he shouted, “no!”

“Any other tricks up your sleeve?” Sol asked as he emerged from the other end of the hall, kicking bodies out of his path, his cane bouncing in his hand. “Now give me my family.”

“Leave us alone,” Marcus yelled from around the corner. He scrambled to think of something to do, something to say. “We never asked for this.”

Sol continued to advance, stepping over his victims, and seem become angrier with every step that he took.

“Give me my family, Padrizia, or I will shred you all to pieces,” he said. “Last chance.”

“Padrizia?” Marcus asked, one eyebrow raised. “If I had a name that sounded like ‘Godzilla’, I’d go by ‘Pat’, too.”

Then the unexpected happened. Marcus saw the look on Sol’s face before it actually happened. It was like Sol sensed it coming, but just didn’t want to believe it.

Something exploded in the room next to the hallway. Smoke, soot, and debris launched into the hall, properly burying the patients that lay outside the door.

Blasts of the brightest blue flew from the smoke, looking like the lightning bolts in an electrical storm. Sparks ricocheted off the walls, creating an almost web-like pattern. The shadows under Sol’s eyes became deeper and the sparks reflected in his eyes as he lunged backward, parrying the magic with his cane.

Then there was a terrible yell, like something that had been pent-up for years. It made the hair on the back of Marcus’s neck stand on end. It was raw and primal—a war cry.

Someone darted out of the room. It was another patient, with a brim in each hand. He screamed, pitching tendrils and bolts of energy with one hand, then the other. With each step, ashes fell from his body. Magic enveloped Sol.

“What the?” Marcus said, breathing heavily. “Where did that patient come from?”

Sol dove to the ground, narrowly dodging the series of magical bursts that cracked the ground open. He retreated back to the corner at the end of the hall before he could return fire.

Pat’s eyes welled up, a smirk forming on her face. She bent over and shook Charlotte.

“Wake up, Charlotte,” Pat said. She did the same for Winston.

“What is it?” Marcus asked. “What’s going on?”

“That’s your uncle,” Pat said.

“Impossible!” Sol said, pulling back around the corner as blasts of magic grazed the walls and flew past him.

“How’s that possible?” Marcus asked, pointing at the soot-covered man charging down the hall.

“It worked,” Ellie said, clapping her hands together. “It must’ve worked.”

Anabell shot to her feet and started toward Caleb, but Pat grabbed her arm and held her back.

“Let go,” Anabell said angrily, trying to brush Pat off, but she must have had a vice-like grip on her, because Anabell was unable to get away despite being much younger and stronger.

Caleb continued advancing, hurling magic at Sol. “All you do is hurt people, Sol. You Dun-Bhar take and hurt and destroy. Now your way has come full circle, and you will die.”

“You are a thief,” Sol said, returning blasts of magic. “A thief of the worst kind. You stole my children from me, Caleb, and you have the gall to judge me?”

“We protected them from you, Brother. All you wanted them for was the new magic they brought into the world.”

“You don’t know me or my heart,” Sol said.

“I know your ways,” Caleb said. “The ways of the Dun-Bhar are selfish and destructive. Deplorable.”

“Selfish? Magic was given to us for our use. To want it and to use it is not deplorable, it’s our nature.”

“Is that what you were going to teach the children?” Caleb asked as one of his blasts of magic finally connected with Sol and threw him back onto the floor.

Sol screamed out in pain.

“Now you’ll pay for all your crimes,” Caleb said. “We will take you before the Kabbahl and they will determine your fate. And as you might recall, the Kabbahl is not always kind.”

Sol laughed and placed a hand on his shoulder, where the magic had pierced him. “The Kabbahl? The Kabbahl hasn’t been functional for years. You’ll be lucky if you could get them all in one room.”

Caleb fired more magic and another bolt connected with Sol. He gnashed his teeth and tried to suppress the pain.

“You will suffer for what you took from me,” Caleb said. “Whether by the Kabbahl’s hand or by mine, it will happen, Brother.”

“I will do no such thing,” Sol said. He lifted his cane and waved it over his head. His brim traced a circle of red light above his head, and as if he had opened the panel to a lighted room, bright beams of light reached down and enveloped him, then folded in on themselves, taking him with them.

The hall fell quiet. Only the sizzling sounds where magic had struck the walls and Caleb’s heavy breathing could be heard.

Then there was a rustle next to Marcus, something stirring.

“Son?”

Somehow Marcus knew the voice wasn’t directed towards him. He turned around to see his grandfather struggling to get up, then to move forward, clutching his shoulder still.

Caleb turned around, still breathing heavily, as if he had just run a marathon. His face was angry and his eyes were hard, but then his eyes met Winston’s, and all the harsh emotions seemed to melt away from his face.