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Page 6
“It’s a shadow creature that used to be a human soul, but it’s tainted. Souls get a choice to move on, and a dybbuk is what happens when those souls are so angry they can’t go to the other side. Eventually, solidarity drives them mad with hatred.” Owen explained.
“That’s so sad.” Ivy quietly muttered. Turning my head, I looked over at her. She did genuinely look upset, her eyes growing dark, and her lips turned down. I had never thought to pity dybbuks. They were souls who chose not to move on, they got what they deserved, but I suppose, in some perspective, it could be considered sad.
Owen set down the files and started to rummage through the stacks of tubs that the teachers left us full of resources. He pulled out a large tomb labeled Mythos Creatures and Spirits. Everyone owned that book, in fact, my father owned probably five copies. It was an encyclopedia that offered detailed descriptions of every Mythos creatures, their strengths and weaknesses, and how to ultimately defeat them. Owen found the page of dybbuks and laid the book on the table in front of us. Ivy leaned over my shoulder to get a closer look at the text. She smelled like green apples.
On one page was an illustration of a large shadowy figure, with oval-shaped, yellow eyes, and a twisted smile of razor-sharp teeth. On the other side was a detailed description of how they come to be and how to exorcise them.
“A dybbuk has to be attached to something, either their bones or a cursed object.” I read out loud. “To sever the attachment and allow the spirit to move on, one must obtain the object and perform this spell.” Following was a lengthy description of a spell, complete with illustrations and charts. As I had no outward magic, I didn’t pay that much attention to it. That was Owen’s department. . . And now I guess Ivy’s.
“Alright, so first thing, we either got to find this guy’s bones or the object he is attached to,” Owen said, setting his hands on his hips.
“I’ll start sorting through the resources.” Ivy volunteered. “You guys know more about this, so you should be on the hunt while I stay here and try to get more information.” It was smart but also big of her to volunteer for a task that lacked glory. We agreed to that, and Owen and I started with the kitchen. That was where the apparition was last spotted.
We took our time, assessing each room and the objects the apparition might be tied to. Usually, they were old, as it took many years for a spirit to manifest that type of strength. There were many antiques in the house, but we think we narrowed down the object to an old locket, a Civil War-era sword, or a wooden music box. It was usually something small.
Heading back down to the living room from the upstairs, Owen stopped in his tracks, causing me to nearly bump into him. I was about to chastise him when I noticed he was looking over towards the living room. The dybbuk had appeared. Ivy was on her knees, sorting files from a bin in piles on the floor around her. She had her headphones on. The apparition seemed almost fascinated with her as it floated near the ceiling over her. Ivy hummed with the music, totally oblivious to the deadly creature lurking above her.
There was no thought to what came next. I lofted over the banister, landed on my feet, and ran towards her. The creature hissed at me as I ran forward, barring its huge, numerous teeth. I tackled Ivy, covering her body with mine. A blue light flashed above me, as I knew Owen was using magic to temporarily banish it. It all happened in less than 5 seconds, but it seemed like longer as I clutched Ivy protectively to my chest. The dybbuk was gone, but for some reason, I just kept holding Ivy.
“Holy shit, dude!” Owen shouted, releasing a little whoop of victory. Ivy laughed, pushing away from my chest. She scrambled off the floor and high-fived Owen. She spoke of his valor, and they jested each other. For some reason that pissed me off. The adrenaline was still pulsing through my body, and my heart pounded in my ears. I tasted copper as I stood and glared at them.
“I’m only the one who fucking saved you.” I realized after my voice echoed off of the walls that I was the one who had shouted it. Owen and Ivy stared at me. Owen scowled, giving me a look of both disgust and confusion. His black brows mashed together as his blue eyes grew ever wider and his mouth gaped slightly open. Ivy, on the other hand, smiled, her big pretty eyes sparkling up at me.
Panic flooded inside of me. My instinct for survival flared up. Without a word, I turned and walked away, back up the stairs, and retreated into one of the bedrooms. I leaned against the closed door, my chest heaving for breath, as one question swirled around in my tired mind: “What the shit was that?”
Chapter Four:
Ivy:
“I like what you’re doing,” Owen said over one of the sandwiches we had prepared. Ryker still hadn’t descended from the second floor.
“What do you mean?” I asked after taking a bite of my own sandwich – peanut butter and honey.
“You don’t fool me,” Owen replied, giving me a daring look. “You’re driving him absolutely nuts. I’ve never seen him lose his shit like he loses it around you.” Owen laughed then, pausing to take a sip out of his juice box. I noticed that about him, he always drank some sort of juice. I wondered what that was about.
“I mean, I’m not doing anything. If that’s how he reacts, then so be it.” I shrugged.
The truth was seeing Ryker in the real world in the cafeteria yesterday had blown my mind. My dream guy was real! How many girls could actually say that? Over the past twenty-four hours, I realized that Ryker was mine. I knew it was illogical and bordering on psychotic, but I didn’t care, he was mine. The universe handed him to me, and I was keeping him. So, I made a plan. I’d let him think the whole thing was his idea. I’d play it cool, let him get over his human girlfriend and get to know my many attributes, and then he’d beg for me. Easy as pie.
But I wasn’t going to tell Owen that.
I made it a point to not stir under his gaze. I ate my sandwich and gave him a noncommittal stare back.
“Well, alright,” Owen said, leaning back. We were sitting on the floor in the middle of the living room, our plates on the coffee table. “But just so you know, if you were doing what I thought you were doing, I could help you.” Owen surprised me in so many positive ways. He has shown himself so far to be an excellent friend, resourceful, funny, and completely nonjudgmental. The surprises were how inquisitive he was. It was like our minds were playing a constant chess match, and I loved it.
“That sounds ominous.” I laughed. Owen smiled widely, enjoying the game as well.
“I suppose so.” He shrugged, “But then again, everyone knows that if you get the best friend, you get the guy.” He winked.
“I thought that saying was about the mother.” I offered.
“Ryker doesn’t have a mother,” Owen said, giving me a long pointed stare. Another thing I adored about my new friend was that he offered information willingly but not frivolously. He was careful about who he shared specific information to, and he always did it for a reason. I could deduce that he said it to me for two reasons. The first was the throw me off in the game we were playing, and the second was to show his helpfulness.
“I already have the best friend.” I shrugged, giving him a daring look. He laughed a huge belly laugh.
“Oh Ivy,” He said between chuckles, “damn it.” He wiped the tears from his eyes. He had conceded, and I won that round.
Since Owen could eat a sandwich in about four bites, he was always finished eating long before me. He leaned back on his hands, staring past me at the stairs.
“He broke up with his girlfriend today,” Owen said. I gave him a small smile, showing my gratitude. Another surprise about Owen, he wasn’t a sore loser.
“Is that so?” I asked. “Well, I suppose after last night, any girl would be suspicious.” The night before at the party, Ryker had played right into my hands. I knew I was hot, people had been commenting on my looks for as long as I can remember. I knew I shocked them I was so pretty, and that’s not ego, that’s fact. Therefore, I knew I could get a room full of drunken teenage boys to show
interest in me. Easy as pie.
“I always forget you haven’t been raised in our world,” Owen said thoughtfully then. “You know so much about magic, energy, and the universe, that I forget you don’t know the sociological parts.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“Rykers a knight, the King of Knights at that.” Owen started. “Don’t you think the powers-that-be might be interested in who the mother of the Legacy of Arthur Pendragon is?” Owen asked. My eyes widened as we were teenagers, there was no reason to be thinking like that.
“What?” I gasped.
“We pair up young here in the land of Mythos, as there are not that many suitable mates to breed with,” Owen said in a cheeky voice.
“Okay, so who was his girlfriend?” I asked. I actually had not known this. It made sense though. With the legacies being so powerful, it was only typical for a society to create some sort of caste system. It wasn’t that they married and had kids early, but they knew who it was going to be around this time. I also knew damn well that no one had a better bloodline than I did.
“She was the daughter of the Knight Charlemagne,” Owen answered. That was impressive, I had to admit. Charlemagne was right up in the ranks with Arthur, Alexander the Great, and Leonidas.
“Impressive.” I nodded, not showing emotion on my face.
“The powers that be also don’t like legacy lines to cross,” Owen added. I hadn’t known that either. It did make sense for keeping the bloodlines pure. What I didn’t understand is why they would? Magic was stackable, meaning that the power comes from the accumulation of generations of magical power, why not add double to that?
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I nodded.
“Yup, so looks like you need to stop looking at knights and start looking at Legate Warlocks.” Legate is what they described citizens of Mythos who have come from a comparatively short line or are the first in their line to have magic. The universe makes more of us, the same way it makes more human and animal souls.
“I thought this was a free country,” I replied smoothly. I hadn’t anticipated that societal constraints would get in my way.
“Free for those who have no threatening power,” Owen replied. He then leaned forward, so our faces were close. “And you, sweetheart, are like a nuclear bomb.” When I had explained the situation to Grams the day before, she hadn’t mentioned this as a possible roadblock. If Morgana Le Fay didn’t worry about it, then neither would I, but I would still ask her about it the next time I saw her.
“So, I guess we should keep on with the case,” Owen said after a moment. There wasn’t much I could tell him. The other files were filled with the history of the house and the land.
“I mean, this is new construction, built only about a year ago. The land was farmland before, no traces of Native American burials or any deaths really happening on it.” I explained. “There were a couple files on the house owners, the only thing that was kind of relevant was that the woman, the dentist, likes antiques. I think she might have picked up a cursed object, but I can’t say for sure.”
“Yeah, that’s what Ryker and I were thinking as well.” Owen nodded.
“How do we find a cursed object? Practically everything in this room is an antique.” I wondered. Owen thought about that for a moment.
“We could do a summoning spell.” He offered after a moment. I had never done one. My Grams had taught me the theory of it, but I had never actually performed it.
“Alright.” I nodded. Owen held out his hand, and his grimoire appeared. The leather bound book was old and looked like it had its binding redone about ten times. The pages were laminated to preserve the millennia-old parchment.
Owen read the book for a moment while summoning ingredients for the incantation. On the table, before me, appeared a small can of red paint and a thin brush, a set of five amethyst stones, three quartz, a hand full of feathers, a goblet, small jar of dirt, and seven black candles. We moved the furniture in the living room to create a large enough space for the altar. Since I was the artist, Owen had me carefully paint the runic lines of the spell-casting circle. It wasn’t a pentagram, those were used for the most powerful of spells, but just a ring with a series of lines and symbols running through it.
Once I was finished with that, Owen started to place the various items around the circle. In the center, he set a candle and the goblet. I could feel the power coming off of the completed altar. Certain items harnessed the energy of the universe, and when put together, they can create a power of their own. In every spell there had to be a representation of all four elements, hence the jar of dirt, the candles, the goblet of water, and the feathers for air. There also needed to be precious stones and metals. Amethysts were the most conductive of magic and therefore most spells called for them. Quartz was a grounding tool that offered protection to the spell caster.
“Alright, you ready?” Owen asked as we stood back and admired our work. I nodded, giving him my hand to hold. Energy could be passed between wizards through touch. Stretching out his free hand over the altar, Owen started to mutter the incantation. The universal rule was three, so we always said the spell three times. After the first, I joined him. The air in the room grew thick with energy, and a breeze from nowhere started to shift our hair and clothes.
When Owen shouted the last of the words, the altar disappeared, replaced with a swirling black hole. We both stood back, he pressed his hand in front of my torso, pushing me farther back behind him.
“Was that supposed to happen?” I asked, staring at the swirling vortex in the living room floor.
“Uh, no,” Owen replied.
“Ryker!” He then called. “Ryker!”
Ryker ran down the stairs, his eyes wide with worry and fury as he realized what we had done.
“What the hell is that?” He demanded.
“I don’t know,” Owen replied. Both of them then stared at me.
“I don’t know, either,” I said.
“Well, how do we stop it?” Ryker demanded. “We can’t just leave this here!” It wasn’t doing anything, no sounds were coming out of it, or energy, it was just a swirling of blackness, like dark smoke had billowed to the surface of something. Going to my knees, I started to reach my arm into it. I had no idea why, but I just knew I had to.
“What are you doing?” Ryker grabbed my arm, suddenly next to me.
“I just, I need to put my arm in there,” I said. Ryker looked up at Owen.
“Alright, but keep your arm around her,” Owen said. We had had many conversations about listening to the universe. We both found it sacred.
Ryker wrapped his arm around my waist as I leaned forward, dipping my hand into the smoke. It didn’t feel like anything, just like air. My hand disappeared under the smoke, and I felt around. My fingers came in contact with a small hard object. I grabbed it and pulled my arm back. The vortex disappeared, turning back into the altar Owen and I had just made, the objects sat undisturbed. In my hand was a pocket watch. It looked old, and on the back was an engraving that read Richard Yates. On the front, it had the head of a lion engraved into the silver medal.
“What is it?” Owen asked. Ryker still had his arms wrapped around me, as we were still crouched on the ground.
Before I could answer the air in the room grew cold and filled with static. We all started to turn our heads, looking for the dybbuk.
“Richard Yates?” I called to the air, wondering if this was, in fact, the cursed object and the spell had worked.
With a loud eerie shriek, the shadow monster formed directly in front of me. It opened its gaping mouth, showing its many rows of fangs gleaming in the light. The emerald necklace I wore that Grams had given to me started to glow. The dybbuk coiled back, hissing at the light. It shrieked, releasing a high pitched, ear-splitting sound. Then the couch came flying at us. Ryker was suddenly in front of me as the couch came hurling towards us. He cocked his body back, swinging his arm in a punching motion. Th
e couch split down the middle, splinters of wood and fluff and fabric shattering around us. The two pieces of the couch went flying past us and slammed into the far wall. I knew knights had accelerated strength, but I had never seen it in action.
It seemed to be after me, probably because I was holding its object. I skittered back on the balls of my feet, as Owen and Ryker closed the ranks in front of me. A beautiful ancient looking sword materialized in Owen’s hand. The blade was covered in runic symbols, and the hilt wrapped around his hand, forming the shape of a tree, with a large emerald embedded at the center. I could feel the magic coming off of it.
“Ivy, destroy it!” Ryker yelled as the dybbuk launched at me. Owen swung at it with the sword, but the shadowy figure dodged, hurling right at me. Ryker was in front of me, but there was nothing he could do. The dybbuk wasn’t a physical creature; touching it would be no different than touching smoke.
I didn’t know how to destroy it. Holding the object to my chest, I ran to the opposite wall, where a large decorative mirror hung. Pressing my hand against the mirror, I muttered the only incantation I could think of. The dybbuk followed, releasing its eerie scream as it rushed towards me, its mouth opened wide like it was about to swallow me up. I pushed the watch against the mirror just as Ryker ran in front of me. He swung his fist towards it. We both knew it would do nothing, but it was all he had.
Ryker's fist flew into the shadow. At the same moment, I wrapped my arms around him, the instinct to cower overcoming me, my hand with the watch, still pressed against the mirror. The dybbuk went flying back as if Ryker had actually punched it. It soared into the entryway, gravity not really applying to it, and then it disappeared. Owen stood in the center of the living room, his sword still in his hand. The sounds of the three of us gasping for breath were the only noise in the room. I had never seen anything like that. It was terrifying and yet exhilarating. If this is what I was signing up for, I knew I had made the right decision.