Chapter Seven

SPARKS HAD DONNED some clothes and waited outside his apartment building for less than ten minutes before Tully showed up in his silver Audi.

“Hop in!” Tully yelled, complete with a silly grin.

The top had been stowed, and as they drove off toward their intended destination, the warm summer breeze ruffled Sparks’s long hair. Sparks couldn’t remember another summer that had been so hot. The convertible ride proved to be a cool blessing.

“Yousef’s?” Tully turned to ask.

“Unless you have a better idea?”

“Nope. Whaddya think about getting our meals to go and then heading down to the Glade?” Tully threw out the suggestion which immediately got Sparks excited.

“I haven’t been down there since last summer! Let’s do it.”

To the rest of the world, the Glade appeared to be nothing more than a cleared-out section of forest scrub within Emily Murphy Park, a popular recreational area on the south banks of the North Saskatchewan River in downtown Edmonton. But if one were part of the Shadow Realm, the Glade was a mystical, sacred, and revered fountain of rejuvenation.

The vast majority of Edmonton’s city dwellers didn’t realize that the centre of the Glade pinpointed the exact spot where a ley line erupted at the earth’s surface. An abundance of magic gushed out from the clearing’s middle, contained on all sides by massive elms planted in a perfect Druidic circle. Those bound to the Shadow Realm would gather in small groups, or in solitude to watch the sprays of energy bursting forth in a fountain of liquid gold raw energy, its radiance fantastical to those whose magical abilities allowed them to see the metallic showers of wild spurting eruptions. Creatures that inhabited the area, both magical and otherwise, would venture close, as fascinated with the supernatural feature as humans. It wasn’t uncommon to see an ambling porcupine, a wayward coyote, or even a lurking mountain cougar spying on the activities within the dale. Great horned owls dotted the treetops, and the occasional clipped rhythm of pileated woodpeckers echoed through the wood. Once a bear had even been reported.

Guaranteed, if there were humans present in this often overlooked area, they were bound to the Realm.

Sparks surmised that adult humans who were regular folk dismissed what their intuition told them, and so they missed out on the charm and magic life offered all around them. But those who would listen to the whispering of the trees as river valley breezes blew through the leaves or got lost in the iridescence of insect wings were more apt to see the beauty and magic all around.

Nine times out of ten, those people were witches.

To get to the Glade, one had to follow a well concealed footpath through the brush leading away from Emily Murphy Park proper and toward the North Saskatchewan River. But once a foot was placed within the glen, a warm calm welled up inside, spreading through the body like an opioid high. The slow pulse and beat of the wellspring created a distinctly quiet shrine. A safe circle to stop and regroup, a time to set aside the troubles and worries of everyday life, where a witch could ground and recentre. Even a short visit guaranteed the visitor an instant feel-better rush, but for those in the supernatural community, the area’s fountain of health and wellness cleansed the negative vibrations from a witch’s soul.

The area had also been consecrated. The respected and cherished glen had not been blessed by any Christian devotee, but by the old Gods and their followers. Many of the city’s covens had also warded the surroundings to ensure peace, despite whatever philosophical or theological turf wars may have been current.

After the boys had grabbed their delights and said hellos to Yousef himself, a quick drive into the river valley, some clusterfucks in trying to find a parking spot, and then a quick hike had them sitting within the Glade with their food still warm.

Sparks peeled the paper from his falafel pita, stuffed full of crisp shredded lettuce, jalapeños, and black olives and liberally slathered with tzatziki sauce.

“Oh man, so good.” Sparks’s garbled words fell out while enjoying the tangy and spicy flavours dancing across his tongue. Heat from the peppers sank in after a few bites. Fire erupted as if live coals had been placed in his mouth. His cheeks reddened and the back of his neck ignited. Sensations Sparks thoroughly enjoyed.

Tully eagerly devoured his shawarma.

“So, I was thinking…” Tully gulped down a bite, then glanced at Sparks, who was lifting his soda and taking a sip. “Would you consider going to Byron’s place with me and retrieving some of our things?”

“I don’t know. It’s a little dodgy, don’t you think? I mean, after seeing Byron today, I’m torn. Sure, that stuff belongs to us, but he’ll be gutted once he finds out. I don’t think he can take another disappointment.”

“Hmph. Well, Byron’s feelings aside, it is sketchy. But there’s a treasure trove of witchy things that belong to the Guardians of the Night Grove—well, maybe not that coven anymore—but the next coven at least. They certainly do not belong to Byron. If nothing else, my workbooks and robes are still there, and I was halfway through researching a lineage of fire elementals. I would like to get those items back.”

“I’ve been thinking about this since dinner with you and Dev the other night, and especially after my collision with Radcliffe. I don’t disagree with you; I have stuff there too. But anything once used by the Night Grove has history attached to the object now. Byron’s vibes, actions, and motivations are all collected in those objects. I don’t know if I want to carry that forward into anything we start up. Isn’t it better to leave negative shit in the past?”

Tully sighed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He squinted his eyes and tilted his head. “I don’t know, but somehow taking the Guardians’ relics feels a bit like repayment. What Byron did was so shitty he should pay and I’m not fond of waiting for the law of three to kick in. He left an irreparable scar on Dev’s heart.”

“Toliver Mack! Are you being petty?”

“Oh honey, gay and petty. I want revenge. Never piss off a fag.” Tully winked as he said it. “But if you’re gonna make me mad, let me know. I have the perfect outfit for a revenge-rage occasion, and the wig to go with it.”

Sparks shook his head while giggling. “I don’t doubt your closet contains all kinds of surprises. Probably comes complete with matching spike heels. But I think we’re better off without confiscating tools imbued with negative energy. Honestly. A clean start would be best.

“You know, crafting some of our own altar adornments would be a great way to initiate a new tradition with the guys, creating the cornerstone of something new. I think there’s merit in starting fresh. All that negativity has physical and metaphysical ramifications. Byron looked twenty years older. He’s lost and broken. Frankly, he needs help.” Tully rolled his eyes in response to Sparks’s statement. “I know, but holding grudges isn’t healthy either. You didn’t see him. He’s a mess. Such a huge fall for someone who we all placed very high up on a pillar of success and power.

“No one has visited him either. He’s been in there for months, and he hasn’t had a single visitor. The ache in my heart as I stood there listening to Byron talk about Addas almost crippled me. He’s in so much pain. I don’t want to add to his misery.”

Tully leaned close to Sparks and bumped shoulders with him.

“You’re such a good person. I’m a total shit for even suggesting it.”

“No, you’re not. You’re one of the most positive people I know. And I think you wanting to get back at Byron is a little bit of protecting Dev. And I think that’s awesome of you. I wish I had someone in my life who’d do the same for me. But from what I’ve seen of Dev, newbie witch or not, the man can protect himself.”

“He most definitely can. I swear he’s got more ability in his pinkie finger than I do coursing through my whole body.”

“That talented, huh?”

“In spades, and not just in magickville either.” Tully gave Sparks a knowing side glance. “Well—” Tully shrugged and popped the last bite of his meal into his mouth, chewed and swallowed, then continued. “Maybe a quick stop at the old coven house to pick up only our things is in order. Yeah?”

“I can get on board with that.”

“We should go tonight, get our stuff, and be done with Byron. But I must stop at the house first and check on Uncle Bart. There are no home health services past eight. I need to make sure he’s taken his meds, leave him his glass of scotch, and switch the channel on the TV so he can watch reruns of The Golden Girls. You should come say ‘Hi.’ He loves when cute men come to visit.”

“I’d love to! I haven’t seen him in ages. He’s always got stories.”

Tully nodded. “That he does.”

Sparks crumpled the empty sandwich wrapper into a ball, intent on taking the trash with him, when a thick rumble of a growl crept across the grass like an angry swarm of ants.

“What the fuck?” Tully’s perpetual grin vanished, his eyes going wide.

Sparks motioned for Tully to be quiet.

“I thought this area was sacred?”

Sparks glared at Tully.

The Glade, despite its protection, still attracted all kinds of beasts, both virtuous and unsavoury, to its power. And the Shadow Realm held equal amounts of light and dark creatures. Nature always maintained a balance. A witch needed to be on constant guard in case something untoward slithered nearby. Technically, they should be safe within the arms of the ancient elms encircling the dale.

The growl materialized again, seemingly from all about them.

Both Sparks and Tully gazed around the clearing, attempting to source the nightmare snarl’s origin.

“Tully, I think we should head to the car.”

“Good idea.”

As the two gathered the leftovers from their dinner, they cautiously retreated.

Tully grabbed Sparks by the crook of the arm and whispered, “What is that?” He pointed at the ground toward the edge beyond the elms where the dense vegetation obscured the river.

Sparks squinted as he craned his neck to look. “A pair of shoes?”

Darting glances by both men attempted to spy any foul beast lying in wait, making them potential prey. The two cautiously approached their discovery.

Tully pulled aside a few branches, only to gag and look away.

“Holy shit.” Sparks motioned Tully to step aside. Being in the healthcare industry, he’d seen how magnificent and disgusting the human body could be. Festering wounds, bone poking through skin, blood gushing from lacerations, but none of those compared to what lay before them now.

The shoes weren’t empty. Poorly hidden in the shrubbery lay a desiccated corpse. Its skin blackened and taut against its bones resembling the ancient mummies Sparks had seen in the British Museum in the Egyptian room on a trip to London several years ago. The eyes had sunk into the skull, and the lips were stretched and pulled back, exposing white teeth as if the dead were baring its fangs in warning.

And whatever this had been, the beast had had fangs.

“Tully, look at its teeth.”

“Do I have to?”

“It’s a Shadow Realm beast.”

“How many monsters do you know wear running shoes?” Tully turned his head away to glance behind them. The light in the Glade had receded, casting a yellowish pall over the area. “The sun is going down. We need to get the hell out of here.”

“We do, but I need to—” Sparks yanked a few branches out of the way and examined the remains. “Tully, look! It’s got tufts of fur and the hands are…dammit, this is a werewolf. Well, was a werewolf? What the fuck can do this to a goddamned werewolf?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. We need to get the hell out and call the Magistrates. They’ll clean this up.”

“As much as I hate dealing with them, I agree.”

“Okay, now we really need to see Uncle Bart. He might have answers too.”

Sparks and Tully beat a hasty retreat to the silver Audi parked close by, but given the current circumstances, Sparks wished the car had been closer. Its current position, however, maintained a safe distance from the shrivelled werewolf remains. Unfortunately, the parking spot also lay beyond the sanctuary of the Glade.

The minute the two sat within the confines of the vehicle, both let out deep breaths as Tully pushed the button to enclose the roof. He didn’t want to sit in a convertible exposed to whatever may or may not be still out there.

Jolts of electricity lit and danced along the surface of Sparks’s skin.

“It’ll be okay.” Tully followed the electrical blue snaps of electricity as they ascended Sparks’s arm. He placed a hand on Sparks’s thigh, giving him a pat of comfort, while his other hand punched in the Magistrates’ number.

Six-six-six.

The Magistrates were the governing body of the Shadow Realm. They settled magical disputes, sometimes took the law into their own hands, and most importantly, kept the supernatural community safe from the darkest elements of both the magical and mundane world. Some would say the Magistrates protected the mundane world from the Shadow Realm. Regardless, they were known for swift justice and expedient cleanups.

Their word was law.

Behind closed doors and away from potential snitches, stories were told in hushed whispers of cases the Magistrates took where things went wrong. Innocent folks who had disappeared and evil beasts never caught were regular late-night topics of gossip around the cauldron fire.

In general, you wanted to stay as far away as possible from any involvement with them.

The phone only rang once when an automated call system launched. Tully pressed the button on his cell for speakerphone, which played the phone’s audio through the Audi’s speaker system.

You have reached the Magistrates. Please punch in your identity code followed by the number sign.

Tully punched his number in. All members of the Shadow Realm had one.

The phone went silent for several long seconds.

Thank you. Your number has been confirmed. Please listen carefully to the menu as our options have changed. If this is in regard to a supernatural dispute, coven boundary disagreement, or clarification of magical lineage, please press one. If this is a call to report a suspected presence of a tier four entity, please press two. If this call requires an immediate presence from a representative of the Magistrate Council, please press three. If you would like to leave a message and have someone contact you at a later date, please press four. To hear the menu options again, please press zero.

The presence of an unusual werewolf corpse didn’t warrant a tier four entity emergency, but what may have caused the body to look like a dehydrated rotted prune absolutely caused concern. Sparks hoped Tully wouldn’t press a number to invoke an immediate presence from the Magistrates. Reporting the incident, then having nothing to do with any of the representatives from the Magistrates would be the best possible outcome.

“What do you think?” Tully glanced over at Sparks.

“I don’t know. Two, I guess. Nobody wants them to show up.”

Tully pressed number two.

Please stay on the line. The location of your call is being triangulated.

The message went deathly silent, stirring panic in Sparks.

Thank you for your call. A representative will be at your location shortly. Please remain calm, and if possible, place yourself within a protective circle with appropriate defensive wards.

The line went dead.

“Shit.” Tully locked his phone and slipped his cell into his pocket.

Sparks stared at Tully. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“We’re supposed to stay here until someone arrives.”

“Seriously?

“I punched in my code, so they’re going to be able to identify me, and if I abandon the area now…”

“Ugh. This is not how I intended on spending my night.” Sparks groaned.

“Me neither, bud. Me neither.”

The two fell silent for several minutes, waiting for the imminent arrival.

Shadows were growing long as autumn twilight settled in; the sun dipped lower than the canopy line of the wooded city park. The sky blazed with streaks of orange and red. To the east, the horizon darkened.

“Man, what’s taking them?” Tully tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Shh…what was that?”

“What?” Tully asked.

“Shh.” Sparks leaned closer to the car’s window.

In the blink of an eye, whatever daylight remained evaporated as the car plunged into a void of inky nothingness.

“That is not good.” Sparks’s saucer-wide eyes stared at Tully. In all the years Sparks had been part of the Shadow Realm, he had never found himself in danger. Tonight, he could no longer make such a claim.

From outside the Audi, a phlegm-filled exhale slithered across the top of the car.

The temperature dropped several degrees as ice crystals formed in the corners of the windows, and Tully and Sparks’s breath hung in the air before them.

Sparks’s eyes widened as his usually pale skin whitened even more. “That is really not good. Fuck!”

Black mist wafted and swirled around them, writhing and twisting, growing so dense nothing beyond a couple of feet outside the windows was visible.

A skeletal hand lashed out from the vapour and grabbed the edge of the hood, followed shortly by another. Their contact with the car’s metal hood banging an ominous thunk, thunk.

“Oh my Gods, Tully, it’s a wraith. Who cares about the Magistrates? Get the fuck out of here!”

A skull emerged as the two hands clinging to the metal lip of the car’s hood, where metal met the glass of the windshield, twisted and pulled the spirit entity from the haze.

The blackened skull resembled the corpse they had found in the woods. Bits of rotted flesh stuck to the bone in random spots. Its jaw opened as another breathy hiss escaped the creature’s maw. The clothes this body had once worn were blackened, as if the evil of its being had stained them. Ripped and shredded, they hung from the torso like the spectre had donned a flowing cape and veil. The ragged ends disappeared into the mist, and discerning where the vapour began and the creature’s flowing cloth remnants ended became impossible.

“This is most definitely a tier four entity. Wraiths were all supposed to have been banished.”

“Tell that to him!” Sparks pointed at the ghostly visitor, its jaw snapping in jerky movements as it clawed at the windshield trying to get to the living occupants within.

Bone-like talons scratched down the length of the windshield.

From inside the car, a bright-white flash erupted as a ward sigil ignited, beaming with such intensity both Tully and Sparks had to cover their eyes.

“What the hell is going on?” Sparks cried out.

“An Uncle Bart feature. Did you see the rune in the middle of the sigil?” Tully peered between his fingers to see what was happening. The glare still beamed with blinding intensity.

“Bitch, I can’t see shit right now.”

The wraith retreated. It hovered a safe distance from the car, but gyrating and swiping in their direction all the same.

As the initial explosive glow subsided, the boys stared out the windows of the car. Each of the glass panes were etched in the same combination of witch marks. A pattern of runes meant to ward off anything attempting to do its occupants any harm. A circle of triangles pointed outwards, the symbol for Thurisaz, representing physical harm. Inside the circle, an upside-down U shape was Uraz, symbolizing spiritual power, and the rune Algiz which appeared similar to a stickman with his arms outstretched, a mark of protection.

“I think we should leave,” Tully suggested.

“You don’t say.” Sparks’s sarcastic retort was out of nature for him, but he had never been in this deep of a shit show.

Tully pushed the key fob button as the car revved to life. The extra electrical current running through the vehicle’s body juiced the magically enchanted windows.

They shone brighter, crisper, clearer.

The wraith outside retreated further.

Tully threw the car into reverse and slammed on the gas pedal. The car flew out of the parking lot and, in a hot second, left Emily Murphy Park to the wraith and the yet-to-show Magistrates.