The Wizards of Central Park West_Ultimate Urban Fantasy Read online

  In unison, they raised their staffs, and different colored radiance shone forth from each toward the center and united with the energy above Marlowe’s own stick.

  A low, soft chanting started from the crowd that soon grew in volume. Eddie heard the words but couldn’t understand them, yet they carried a strange familiarity that spoke not to his rational mind, but to some primal force in his soul.

  The multiple rays of light from each staff grew brighter, and Eddie glanced at his own to see a red light shimmering on top.

  As they chanted, Marlowe returned to the rock and held his staff aloft. The beams of light formed an illuminated canopy over their heads.

  The chanting stopped as Marlowe raised his hand to speak.

  “Let us all pledge our faithfulness,” Marlowe’s voice echoed off the huge stones.

  “We hear and affirm,” the circle of men and women answered.

  “Since the dawn of time, there have been those who walk the way of the wise,” Marlowe shouted. “They have been known by many names: wizards, shaman, witch doctors, alchemists, faith healers, and countless others in all languages and places on this verdant earth. This night we bring within our fold a new member, the first in many years. He did not choose the path but was summoned.”

  The assembly broke into quick whispers of surprise. The word “summoned” flashed from person to person with excitement.

  “For those who do not know, Riftstone has moved to the higher plane of existence which we all must eventually go. He did not go by choice.”

  Another chorus of murmurs ran through the group: “Rest his bones”; “May he be at peace”; “Blessed be.”

  “Tonight we unite to welcome this new member and set him upon the path.”

  “Huzzah!” the crowd yelled as one voice.

  Marlowe turned to Eddie, his eyes seeming to shimmer with the reflected light overhead.

  “Edward Berman,” Marlowe said, “are you here by your own free will?”

  Eddie looked around at the group and thought, This is like a dream—make that a nightmare. I hope they don’t want me to drink blood or something.

  “I am,” Eddie found himself saying, surprised by the sound of his own voice.

  “You have been summoned by the staff you hold. All of the staves we possess came from the same ancient tree. Only those who choose the path or are summoned can wield the power within the wood.” Marlowe held his own staff aloft, and the stick glowed with layer upon layer of wax. “Each staff has been polished over long centuries through the blood and sweat of those that seek to improve this world and continue our learning. There have been many that have laid down their lives in this cause.”

  A muttering of approvals ran through the band.

  Marlowe turned to Eddie and stared deeply into his eyes. “Edward Berman, are you prepared to take this heavy burden upon you?”

  Eddie looked around at the figures surrounding him and the beams that glowed above his head.

  “Can you be a little more specific?” Eddie whispered hoarsely.

  “What?” Marlowe murmured back, embarrassed by the interruption.

  “Exactly what am I agreeing to?”

  “We are asking you, upon your oath and your honor, to be trained in our arts. To use them to protect lesser beings from evil and work with us to serve the good in this world.”

  Protect and serve, ran through Eddie’s mind. They’re asking me to join the metaphysical police.

  “In that case,” Eddie turned to the group and announced, “I—I agree!”

  “Do you swear by your oath before this honored assembly?” Marlowe said.

  “I do!”

  “Huzzah,” spoke the circle.

  Marlowe turned one way, and then the other, and spoke to the crowd. “Do you accept him to join with us?”

  “We hear and—”

  “Wait!” one voice bellowed, and the crowd grew instantly silent.

  “Is this what we wish?” A man stepped from the circle. His staff remained freestanding behind him, an ivory beam of light still emanating from its top.

  The man pulled back the hood. He was one of the few younger members of the assembly. A tall, white man with strong features and a pointed nose. He was clean-shaven, and his gray-black hair was long but stylish and well-cut. His fingernails shimmered from a recent manicure.

  “What say you, Drusilicus Greywacke?” Marlowe huffed, annoyance in his tone.

  “Is it prudent to bring one with no training into our fold?” responded Drusilicus.

  “He was summoned,” Marlowe argued, facing the man down. “The first in centuries—”

  “Yes, and the first brought to this circle in decades,” Drusilicus announced. “There are those of us with apprentices—fine students—and they are not allowed to join until we pass from this world.”

  Marlowe nodded. “‘Tis the tradition.”

  “Riftstone had no apprentice, though many suggested he should. He led a solitary life, though many of us reached out to him.” He glanced at Eddie disdainfully. “Are we showing wisdom bringing this…this…person to our bosom? There are so many others, trained and ready to take up the fight.”

  He stood and turned, his arms extended to include the group. Murmurs went through the crowd as they looked to each other and nodded.

  “He was summoned,” Marlowe declared. “That takes precedence. The staff knows best who is most qualified.”

  “Also the tradition,” Drusilicus cautioned. “However, there are those who say that Riftstone was struck down by the Great Evil.”

  Another murmur went through the crowd.

  “‘Tis true!” Frisha yelled out.

  Drusilicus observed the crowd like a trained attorney as he sized up a jury. “If that is so, then this is not the time for hasty judgments. We must consider the significance, as only the Five can cast out the Great Evil.”

  “The Five?” Eddie whispered to Marlowe. “Who are they?”

  Marlowe whispered back. “They carry the staffs of those who formed the first coven. They are the most powerful of all.”

  Drusilicus snorted. “See, he does not know even our most basic history.” He turned and faced the tall black man who stood unmoving in the circle. “Trefoil, you are one of the Five. What say you?”

  Trefoil planted his staff into the ground with one strong push, its blue beam shimmering from the stick to the circle’s center. He stepped forward.

  Trefoil did not break eye contact with Drusilicus, as the others listened intently. “I say the idea of confronting the Great Evil with someone untrained scares the crap out of me.”

  A quick titter went through the group. Trefoil lifted his hand for silence.

  “Riftstone was an odd fella, I’ll give you that. His solitary ways may have cost him his life.” Trefoil walked closer to the center stone. “However, I accepted his habits, and I trusted him. Which means I trust his staff. If Edward Berman was summoned, then he is the one who should take up Riftstone’s staff and walk the path.”

  A buzz of assent rushed through the men and women in the circle.

  “Then it is decided?” Marlowe began.

  “Wait!” Drusilicus raised his hand again. “Does he know that Riftstone was one of the Five? That he now holds the Staff of the element Fire?”

  “He will be instructed thus,” Marlowe said.

  “I would ask that someone else be considered to take that staff and join the Five. Until the initiation is complete, Marlowe, as you bear the Staff of Spirit, you can give it to any,” Drusilicus acknowledged. “A wizard of great power should accept it, and Edward Berman could be given another.”

  “We can’t do that,” Trefoil insisted, his mouth stern. “Riftstone’s staff chose him! There must be a reason.”

  “He speaks sooth, Drusilicus,” Marlowe maintained. “The Staff of Fire chose Edward Berman.”

  “How many other wizards must die?” Anger flashed across Drusilicus’s face as he looked at Eddie. “Who will save them?
Him? As I see it, we are all in jeopardy.” He grew calmer and spoke more carefully. “I do not deny him his rights. I merely recommend caution.”

  The crowd mumbled quietly, and the light on top of the staves began to diminish.

  Marlowe raised his hand, and the beams grew brighter as all eyes focused on him.

  “The Five always faced risk,” Marlowe proclaimed.

  “Then I would ask for a long unused codicil,” Drusilicus requested. “Give Edward Berman the ability to surrender the Staff of Fire to another if he so chooses.”

  “That is most unusual, Drusilicus,” Marlowe warned. “I do not see how it benefits.”

  Drusilicus shrugged like an actor playing to an audience. “If he discovers he is not up to the challenge, he may pass the staff to another. Only then will I approve.”

  Trefoil looked over to Marlowe and spoke in a low voice. “He’s got you there. One who is summoned to be one of the Five must be approved by the entire coven.”

  Marlowe looked at the ground and exhaled heavily. “Agreed.”

  Drusilicus bowed and returned to his spot in the circle, and then replaced his hood over his head and held his staff firmly. Trefoil looked at Marlowe questioningly and returned to his own place in the circle.

  “Do I get the job?” Eddie asked Marlowe just above a whisper.

  “That you do,” Marlowe replied in an undertone. “The spell I shall add will not affect your powers, but you have the ability to pass your staff to any as you will.”

  “Lucky me.”

  Marlowe waved his hand at Eddie’s staff, and the red light on top of it flickered for a moment then grew brighter.

  “There, ‘tis done,” Marlowe raised his hands and increased the volume of his voice so all could hear. “He has sworn to us upon his oath. What say you?”

  “We hear and affirm,” the others responded.

  “Do you accept Edward Berman into this circle?”

  “We do!” came the answer.

  “Then, as coven master, I state that Edward Berman is now one of us, to be trained in the path of the wise.”

  “Huzzah!” rose the cry from the circle.

  “Who shall take Edward as apprentice?” Marlowe queried.

  Drusilicus shifted his staff and leaned forward. “Since Marlowe supports this new member so strongly, I say he should train Edward Berman.”

  Marlowe looked panicked for the briefest moment, then set his jaw and nodded. “I shall, so mote it be.”

  “So mote it be!” reverberated through the crowd.

  Each member of the circle held up their staves, and Marlowe raised his and touched it to Eddie’s staff.

  “Hold very still,” Marlowe said, as energy flowed to Eddie’s, the beams of light resting on top.

  Marlowe moved from the rock and joined the circle, as two cloaked figures shifted to make space for him. A white beam of light lashed out from his staff and joined the others on top of Eddie’s.

  A chant began in each throat invoking that strange language as the beams of light grew brighter. A kaleidoscope of color danced atop Eddie’s stick. The multicolored illumination traveled down his staff and onto his hand. Eddie watched as his entire body began to glow.

  Then, all at once, the light was on him, in him, part of him. He was one with a rainbow which swirled about him. His brain was filled with it, and he felt as if his body was breaking down. It ceased to be skin, bone, and meat and became nothing but light.

  Even with his eyes tightly shut, it was dazzling. And in that blissful, blinding effulgence that bordered on nirvana, Eddie lost consciousness.

  Thirteen

  Eddie tried to lift his head, but it weighed three hundred pounds. Fireworks exploded behind his eyes, along with the mother of all headaches.

  He lay still and cursed as he attempted to recall when and how much he’d been drinking. It must have been a lot—so much that he’d forgotten everything, including the first drink.

  As he rested there, recollection slowly returned. The walk in the woods, the stone circle, the coven. Then that overwhelming light, like something alive that held him in a loving embrace.

  He carefully opened his eyes and silently hoped he was in his own bedroom and the occurrences of the previous twenty-four hours were only a dream.

  Dreams feel real when you have them, he decided, and you only know they’re not when you wake up.

  This reassuring thought was gone as Eddie realized he wasn’t in his own bed.

  The room was very dark, but he could fathom the slightly brighter outline of windows on the shaded walls, the crack of light under a doorway, and the green, glowing ball that hovered directly above him…

  The last object struck Eddie as something out of the ordinary, and his eyes returned to it. Something was indeed suspended over him, a glowing green, translucent blob that spun end over end. As he watched, a nose began to form, followed by a large pair of eyes, a mouth, and two stunted arms.

  “Boo!” the green face trilled with glee.

  Eddie’s scream echoed inside his own head so loudly that he felt as if it exploded. He fought to get up from the bed, tangled himself in the sheets, and rolled off and onto the floor with a resounding “thump.”

  On the floor, he struggled, which made the bed sheets cover him like a shroud. He rolled and fought to break free as the glowing creature laughed uproariously.

  “Bob!” came Marlowe’s voice as the door burst open. “Lights!”

  Eddie could see a pale illumination through his cloth prison. Then, Eddie felt himself lifted off the ground. He floated, weightless in the air, as the cloth fell from his limbs.

  The room stopped spinning, and he was lowered to the ground and onto his feet.

  He stood face to face with the green creature, it reiterated the word, “Boo!”

  Annoyed now, Eddie took a swing at it. His hand passed through the green, glowing shape and distorted it for a moment but did no damage.

  “Bob, stop this at once!” Marlowe commanded. The old man stood in pajamas and a red silk bathrobe, his head covered with a red night cap, as if he’d walked out of a story book.

  The small, misshapen, green glob cast its makeshift eyes toward the old wizard. The distorted mouth opened, and a pathetic “Aw” came out.

  “I mean it, leave him be!” Marlowe raised his staff, which made Bob curl into a ball and roll toward the ceiling to pass right through it.

  “Forgive me. I should have placed a barrier around your room.” Marlowe approached, and Eddie noticed that, besides the staff, Marlowe carried a silver goblet.

  He proffered the cup to Eddie. “Here, drink this.”

  Eddie still felt as if two hundred horses galloped through his cerebrum. He lifted the cup and smelled it.

  “Yuck!” Eddie held the cup away. “You cannot expect me to drink this.”

  “It will help with the pain in your head,” Marlowe noted simply.

  Eddie looked at the smaller man hopefully. “Really?”

  Marlowe said nothing but gave a small nod. Eddie held his breath and downed the noxious substance in one foul-tasting gulp. It tasted worse than it smelled, and Eddie grimaced as the substance went down his throat. He shut his eyes and rubbed his face with his free hand, as if to remove the vile taste.

  A moment passed, and Eddie’s head cleared. The headache didn’t merely fade; it was simply gone. He tentatively opened his eyes to find he felt terrific.

  “What was this stuff?” Eddie handed the goblet back to Marlowe.

  “My first calling was as an herbalist. You just drank a combination of plant extracts that aid in the recovery from an overwhelming psychic encounter.”

  “Of course.” Eddie wondered if he would always only understand half of what this man said. “What was that…that thing that woke me?”

  “You mean Bob?” Marlowe asked. “Don’t mind him, he’s harmless. A bit of a prankster.”

  “No, no, I mean what is he…or was he?” Eddie looked up at the ceiling at the
spot where Bob dematerialized.

  “A disembodied spirit. Don’t worry, he never incarnated, so you weren’t visited by a ‘ghost,’” Marlowe explained, his gaze also going to the spot where Bob was last seen. “He’s expressed no desire to be in a solid form, human or otherwise.”

  “What is he doing here?”

  “Oh, he lives here, assists me,” Marlowe affirmed and met Eddie’s eyes. “You know, minor errands, keeps me aware of appointments, incoming messages, that sort of thing.” Marlowe lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Nothing too complicated. He’s not the smartest fellow.”

  Marlowe reached into the pocket of his robe and extracted a small, glittering ball. “Now we must to business. There is much to tell.”

  He handed it to Eddie, who stared at the round glass. “Is that a crystal ball?”

  “Yes, a most special crystal, indeed. Focus deep inside the glass, and I shall begin the tale.”

  The ball began to glow in Eddie’s hand, and he saw shapes and images within.

  “Since the dawn of time, there have been the wise—those who carried a staff and worked wonders,” Marlowe said.

  Eddie could see a small figure within the glass wander over a hill of sand as he carried a staff much like his own.

  “Each staff is a remainder of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.”

  “Isn’t that the tree that Adam and Eve got the apple from?” Eddie wondered aloud.

  “Yes,” Marlowe agreed, and the image of a mighty and beautiful fruit tree appeared within the glass. “It is told in our legends that the Divine destroyed the tree—” A flash of lightning smashed the image of the tree in the crystal, which made Eddie jump back in surprise.

  “But the remnants rained down upon all parts of the earth,” Marlowe said. Within the crystal, Eddie could see pieces of wood falling in different lands.

  “The wise were drawn to the wood, which they made into staffs, and studied to learn their power,” Marlowe said, as Eddie watched a dirty, bedraggled man dressed in little more than a loincloth pick up a stick and hold it up to the sky.