Shades

NINE

Come home, boy.

Danny wandered the neighborhood until he received the summons, making sure to avoid the liquor store. He didn’t want to be spotted at the scene. Although he was calmer, he felt cored out and hollow. His energies had drained away, and what remained wasn’t enough to let him tie his shoes without getting winded. Despite his fatigue, as soon as Gustav called him, he started running.

The Russian stood in the living room. His expression was grim. The couch was empty.

“Is she all right?” Danny’s knees felt like rubber.

“She will be. I think.” Gustav sat down on the couch and patted the seat next to him. “What you did, Danny…that was dangerous. Stupid.”

Nodding with reluctant agreement, Danny sat down next to him and forced back tears. He’d cried enough for one day.

“The mind is breakable,” Gustav continued. “Very fragile. You almost killed your mother tonight, but I think I fix the problems.”

“I just wanted…I wanted to make her better.”

“Magic is like gun. It is tool to use, but is more than that. This is why you go to school, yes? To help you understand better what you do, so you don’t hurt people. Magic is dangerous, because it can’t be taken away.”

“What do you mean?”

“You have a gun, and I can hide it from you. Take it away and lock it up. You have magic; I have to trust you to know how to use it wisely. Yes? And what you did here and at the liquor store—that is not wise.”

Danny flinched. “How did you know?”

“Is on the news. I take care of your mother. Then wait for you. I get bored and turn on the TV. Liquor store explodes and three people inside are found in the water half a mile away. None of them know how they get there. But I know. And so do you.”

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I just…”

Gustav put an arm around Danny’s shoulders and squeezed.

“So, now you know, yes? You don’t play with minds. You don’t play with people. Because sometimes you can’t fix what you’ve done.”

“But we can fix Mom, right?”

“Your mother sleeps now. She needs rest. Tomorrow, you call work for her and tell them she’s sick. Maybe after that, she’ll be better.”

“Maybe?” That single word had never seemed so dire.

“Da, maybe. We won’t know until she wakes up, but I think I do good work. I am a specialist. What I did to her will help.”

“What did you do to her?”

“That is not important. What you did to her, Danny, was not good. That is important part and you have learned a lesson from it. But she’ll be okay, I think.”

They sat without speaking for a while. The only sound was the television, where the local late-night programming had been pre-empted by coverage of the liquor store explosion. There was nothing left but the foundation.

“I can’t believe I did that.” Danny stared at the screen.

Gustav rose, crossed the living room, and turned the television off. Then he turned on the lamp and sat back down. “Magic requires control. You fell against a wall and wound up here, along with your bike, because you were lucky. You burned a building and no one died, because you were smart. You made them go away. But you could have killed them anyway. You got lucky twice. But maybe not next time. Remember that. Magic has teeth.”

“So, are you mad at me?”

Gustav shook his head. “Nyet. Not mad. Disappointed. You should have talked to me first.”

Disappointed instead of angry. That didn’t make Danny feel any better.

Gustav patted the couch cushion. “Is more comfortable than my bed at home. I will stay here tonight.”

“What? Why?”

“You made a mess today. Someone will notice.”

“You mean like the police?”

“No.” Gustav walked to the window and pulled back the curtain. “There is another like us in this town. Your teacher. Michael Bedrik.”

“Mr. Bedrik? He’s like us?”

Gustav nodded.

“How long have you known?”

“Since the day I met you. When we saw his brother’s body.”

“Is he good or bad?”

Gustav shrugged. “There is no good or bad. Magic is what it is, power and knowledge. Sometimes is used for good, sometimes is used for bad. This time, I think he is using it as bad. Very bad.”

“Why?”

“Because, I’ve heard the dead screaming. That is never a good thing. There are lights in the graveyard at night where no lights should be.”

“So what do we do? I can’t go to school if he’s there.”

“Yes,” Gustav insisted. “You go to school, is important that you do. We must appear normal. And you must talk to him if he speaks to you. You must make him think you are not afraid. How you say—keeping up appearances? He knows about me. He does not know about you.”

“Actually,” Danny whispered, “he might.”

“Actually? Speak clearly, boy. What has happened?”

“Damn it,” Danny said. “I should have known. I forgot to tell you.”

“What do you mean? You suspected this?”

“No.” Danny explained the conversation he’d had with Bedrik in the school library, how the teacher had been familiar with Crowley and had recommended other works. His expression darkened as he admitted to Gustav that Bedrik had asked about him as well, and his connection to Danny.

“He said something weird, too. That Gustav wasn’t your real name. I was gonna tell you, but when I got to your house, you gave me the presents and I forgot all about it. I’m really sorry.”

Gustav let the curtains fall back into place. “Is okay, Danny. You are young. You get presents, you get excited. Is natural, no? Besides, it wouldn’t have mattered. He knows my name and that gives him power. But he does not know everything.”

“Like what?”

Gustav’s voice was flat and emotionless. “He does not know what I am capable of. I am willing to make sacrifices.”

789

Bedrik stood in an alleyway, staring at the smoldering wreckage of Giordano’s Happy Bottle Shop. Beneath the rubble, the fires still burned despite the rain. The storm’s fury had increased throughout the night. Rain fell in sheets, mercilessly blasting across houses, cars and trees. The gutters overflowed and the runoff swept through the streets, washing away debris. The cold water soaked through his clothing, dripped from his chin and nose, and plastered his hair to his head. But Bedrik felt no chill.

His hatred kept him warm.

Gustav had breached the wards he’d so carefully put in place around his home. Granted, the old man hadn’t pushed through with the assault, but the very fact that he’d penetrated them rattled Bedrik. Still, Gustav had fled rather than provoke him further. The Russian was probing, testing Bedrik’s power and strength. And if his distraction at the end proved anything, it was that their encounter had left Gustav drained. That was why the old man left—to recharge and recuperate. Gustav wasn’t nearly as strong as he’d expected. Bedrik knew that he needed to press forward now, attack his rival while the man was still weakened. But not here—Brackard’s Point was neutral ground. And it couldn’t be at Gustav’s domicile. That would be foolish, giving the old man an advantage. Nor could it occur in Bedrik’s home. Gustav had probed his defenses and found them daunting. He would not return.

There was only one place such a confrontation could happen; Gethsemane Cemetery. There, Bedrik’s power would be strongest, with hundreds of shades at his command, just waiting beneath the soil. In addition, he had his army of townspeople whose bodies already housed the dead. If he could somehow lure Gustav to the graveyard, disposing of him would be easy. The Russian couldn’t possibly withstand such an assault. His power would wane in the face of it. Then, Gustav would be under his control.

Bedrik turned his attention back to the wreckage. It had been all over the news. That was what had brought him here. Not the explosion, but the fact that three survivors had found themselves floating in the Hudson, rather than burned to a crisp.

Magic.

But it was raw, unchanneled. The work of an amateur. This couldn’t have been Gustav. This was someone else. Bedrik ignored the rain creeping down his back and concentrated on the ruins. He was not as adept with temporal magic as he’d like, but there had to be evidence he could use. All he needed was to catch the scent.

Investigators combed through the wreckage despite the downpour. None of them paid attention to Bedrik and he returned the favor. His eyes glazed over as he concentrated. There, beneath blackened bricks—a glimmer. He focused, finding a faint trace of the power that had caused this destruction. With that dying ember, he caught the psychic scent. The rest was easy. The magician, whoever it was, had shed residual energy as they left the scene, like a fizzling sparkler. Bedrik followed the trail back to its source.

Danny’s house. And Gustav was inside as well.

So. There was his proof. The Russian had taken the boy as an apprentice. An adept. And thus, he’d left himself open to defeat. Bedrik knew Gustav’s weakness.

Danny.

Now all he had to do was exploit it.

Bedrik summoned his minions, and then hurried home to prepare.

789

Normally, the sound of the rain drumming against the roof soothed him, but Danny couldn’t fall asleep. He finally gave up and wandered into the living room, where Gustav lay sprawled across the couch, snoring lightly. Danny shivered. The old man slept with his eyes open. Danny moved on to his mother’s bedroom and checked on her. She looked peaceful. She hadn’t woken yet, but Gustav seemed positive that she’d recover.

Danny sighed. Only a few weeks ago he’d wanted to leave Brackard’s Point and never come back. Now, looking down at his mother, he wanted to stay. But could he anymore? His Mom was hurt. Matt had been arrested and was probably in the juvenile detention center. Chuck, Ronny and Jeremy were pissed at him. He’d blown up a liquor store. And his teacher was a renegade magician. None of it made sense.

If magic was so great, why did he feel like such a loser? Cool new tricks, same old Danny.

Exhausted, but still unable to sleep, he lay down on the bed next to his mother and closed his eyes. The only sounds were the rain and her soft, low breathing.

Finally, he slept. His dreams were full of shadows.