A tale of wizardry misused.
|Roy got busy vacuuming up cast off spells and enchantments left in the graveyard. They were withered among the dead flowers strewn among secret nooks and dark shadowed cracks among new and old gravestones. Some of the wizardry held the contents of their closest coffins captive. “Darn it, another one escaped me. I’ll never get done.”
“Watch it. The thing almost got me.” Elvis, Roy’s younger brother smacked his lips, refusing to kiss the bark of a tree the love potion spell spun and hit. He became a tree hugger instead. Above the branches and leaves twisting in the moaning wind, the sky darkened and swallowed up the moon.
“Sorry. Almost done. Thought mom’s rosary and silver cross necklace would protect you.” Other witchcraft had become weak broken chains, yet still wielding some power. The last and most important, were those satanic spells only a shell of what they had been. These needed careful deciphering at great cost in time and effort. They held the greatest promise of forgotten and terrible forgotten lore.
A growing assortment of devilry chants hummed fluttering and weaving among themselves above Elvis’ head. Released from the captivity they’d been buried in they were having a free-for-all. Sparks showered, winked, burned and died as the incantations struck each other.
“I’m going home. I’ve had enough.” Elvis spit a foul tasting one out of his mouth that tried going in with his next indrawn breath.
“I’m looking for something extra special. We’ll need it.” Roy kept grooming his nozzle across the ground. “Something’s got it.”
He yanked, struggled, played tug-of-war with his nozzle before It flipped out of his hands. The bag bounced, caught on the rough edge of a decayed tombstone. “Duck. All my work is getting out.”
The air turned into a Fourth Of July fireworks display. Whistling rockets burst into colored sparkling showers exuding shockwaves of magical power. Love Spells, Prosperity Spells, Luck Spells, Beginner Spells, and Protection Spells clashed, exploding into each other. Curses of death, plague, enformity, blindness and deafness rotted the leaves off the trees, turned the grass into a withered black carpet of spiders, hornets and beetles crunched under the two boy’s feet.
Roy uncorked his flask of holy water ‘borrowed’ from Sunday church. He showered himself with it. He crossed himself, mumbling a prayer. Steam rose around him, covering him in a fine mist. The cloud of vapor transformed him into a hovering ghost among other dancing, flying graveyard apparitions launched from cracked open graves.
“Elvis?” The sound coming out of Roy sounded like a creaking opening door. “Where did you go?”
“Help. They got me.”
Dark shadows shivered around Elvis, gluing themselves onto his arms, legs, hands and feet.
From behind a monolithic towering tombstone a small sun flared. It arc’d into a comet aiming for Elvis’s voice. “That's a’ boy.” Elvis’ pet fire lizard’s tongue flamed, roared, lanced out. The long tailed reptilian gained speed, began swallowing the graveyard shadows fleeing before it.
“Stop playing. It’s starting to rain. Your flame will go out.” It’s chameleon changing colors wove loops, figure eights and arcs of rainbow light warming the midnight air.
“I got it.” A cloud shaped Roy sent spears of lightning towards the pet. His voice cracked into a thunderous roar. “Treat, Xinth. Treat.”
He barely had time to grab the pet before the graveyard became an avalanche of wind. Trees broke into shattered flying limbs, prodding sharp fingers pushing and flinging the boys before them.
“We’ll never make it.” They were so close to the graveyard iron fence. On the other side, across the street was home. Roy’s words tore out of his mouth leaving him gasping.
Elvis, rolled and struck a leaning gravestone making him see stars before his eyes. He blinked, rubbing grit and tears away. “Mom? Is that mom?”
Standing under a street light, Gail Simone licked the edge of a thumb with her lips. “Quiet. I’m concentrating.” Her black cat, Mystophalis, hissed at her feet as demons shrieked, bouncing off an invisible wall separating them from the calm and peaceful world beyond the graveyard boundary.
“Bring my own to me,” She dropped the black leather bound ‘Book Of Spells’. It hovered waist high in the air. Pages fluttered like wings opening and closing. “Now.”
A tunnel opened in the storm-swept graveyard, it wormed, shifting, hunting back and forth. “Climb in,” prompted Gail Simone, laughing at the eye-sores that were his two kids as they fought for access. Hair flying, cheeks pulled back from tight clenched teeth, Roy and Elvis clung to each other. Something popped.
“Are you ready to behave?” The storm-swept tunnel shook them like they were in a washing machine.
“Yes,” Roy cried out at the top of his lungs.
“Cross my heart, do or die,” Elvis yelled, pushing Roy’s foot from his mouth.
“Then come across and be swift.”
The tunnel narrowed, made gulping sounds. It spit out the sons at Gail Simone’s feet. She retrieved her book, slamming the covers shut. Across the iron fence, black clouds, hail and lightning ceased.
“Be as you were before you begun.” Gail Simone commanded with raised fist.
Roy scrambled and helped Elvis up to stare at a rejuniated graveyard that appeared like it had when they’d entered.
“Sorry, mom.” Roy glanced up as the dark gray clouds in his mother’s eyes faded in a final flash of fire.
“Me, too.” Elvis said, reaching down to rub static sparks along the black cat’s back.
“I think you’ve learned your lesson. No more experimenting on your own without asking.”
The cat let the way homeward across the empty night dark street towards their newly lit home.
“Sleep. You will forget all about evil chants, incantations, spells and curses. You’ll have to start over learning your own.”
Gail Simone looked in on them. “That will happen too soon. The world will not let this rest. I hope you’ll learn to handle them better when you think to use them next time.”