Poltergeeks (21 page)

  And I needed to make it the mother of all magical attacks. The good news was that Betty had an encyclopaedic knowledge of the arcane and my head was swimming with questions to ask. She'd earn her pay – or at least a milk bone – before I was done.

  I stepped into the library and placed the grimoire on the work table. "Betty, what do you know about bindings? My dad's grimoire lists a bunch of them that can be used as something he calls quick magic."

  Two enormous forepaws appeared on the edge of the work table as Betty the dog stood on her hind legs to get a better view of my father's grimoire. "Obviously you know the central purpose of a binding spell. I suspect your intent is to bind the practitioner to your will."

  I nodded. "Kind of. We figured out that Matthew Hopkins may be in possession of Hudibras' body and possibly even his subconscious. We need to figure out a way to bind Hudibras in place long enough to conduct an exorcism."

  Betty stretched out a ridiculously long pink tongue from between a set of floppy black lips and licked her chops. "The most powerful form of exorcism is by use of the Roman Ritual," she said with a loud smack. "Unfortunately we're not dealing with a creature from the abyss."

  "There's something in here called a 'strain binding'," I said. "What's that about?"

  Betty leaned in and I assumed she was scanning the page. "That might work, actually. It's a kind of binding spell that draws its power not only from the will of the spell caster, but also from the target."

  "That sounds like it would be powerful enough to bind Hudibras long enough to conduct an exorcism." Marcus said as he cleared a space on the work table.

  Betty the dog grunted. "That depends on the will of the person invoking the spell. I suspect that despite your relative inexperience, Julie, your Shadowcull's band would certainly compensate."

  I grabbed a felt marker and wrote the invocation on my left forearm. Yeah, I was making a cheat but it didn't matter. I needed to have an edge. "And the exorcism itself – what do you recommend?"

  Betty got down from the table and stretched with a loud groan. "I should think a standard exorcism would suffice, but you'll need to craft a vessel to contain the spirit of Matthew Hopkins. I'd recommend a funeral urn or something similar, preferably made from copper."

  "Why not use the box from the cemetery?" Marcus asked. "I remember your Dad's ghost saying it was copper and covered with sigils that were all spells of some kind."

  I span around. "Marcus, you're a genius! That's exactly what we'll use. Would you go upstairs and grab it out of my backpack?"

  Marcus grinned from ear to ear. "I'm on it."

  I returned to the worktable and flipped through Dad's grimoire again. "Marcus is out of earshot, Betty. I'm going to use my father's black curse if I have to."

  Betty the dog cocked her head to the right either as a display of confusion or general concern, I wasn't sure which. "You're certain you wish to invoke a black curse, Julie? Surely you're not expecting Hudibras might kill you."

  "It could happen," I said grimly. "If I'm going down, so will Hudibras, and I have no problem at all laying a black curse onto him. If my death means that my mom gets to live, then it's a fair trade as far as I'm concerned."

  Betty the dog shuffled over to the shelf and nudged at a clear Tupperware box containing a fine white powder that resembled sugar. She grabbed it between her powerful jaws and brought it over to the table. "You won't need a black curse," the giant dog said. "This is 'ember's salt', or what is commonly known as 'witch's chaff'."

  "And that would be…?"

  "A magical countermeasure," she continued. "Just like the chaff that pilots use to jam the guidance capabilities of missiles, witch's chaff can jam someone's magic if you get enough of it on their body. We just need something to act as a delivery device. It would be nice if we had some pyrotechnics."

  Marcus came back into the library and slid the copper box across the work table. "Did someone say something about pyrotechnics?"

  I nodded. "Yeah. We've got something we need to launch at Hudibras. Any ideas?"

  Marcus' lips turned up into a smile so large I thought his face might crack. "How about an arsenal worth of firecrackers?"

  I could have kissed him. "You've got firecrackers on you?"

  "Nope, but we've got a box full of 'em in the garage at my house. We were going to use them on Canada Day, but we got rained out. Can you use your magic to light them?"

  I made a small effort of will and snapped my fingers. A tiny blue flame flickered brightly from the center of my palm. "Does that answer your question?"

  Marcus beamed. "Okay
sweet,
and that is
really
freaking cool, Julie. I'll run home and be back in less than twenty minutes."

  "That sounds good to me," I said with a hint of optimism. "I'll walk you to the door so I can disarm the sentinels and then Betty and I can figure out how to lace those firecrackers."

 
 

 
 
 

I mixed the ember's salt in a large mortar and pestle. Betty said to lace it with something that would act as a kind of glue, and the only thing I could think of was a pouch of powdered glue, the kind you mix with water. If it worked, the powdered glue would enhance the ember's salt to such an extent that it would cling to not only Hudibras, but whatever kind of corporeal form Matthew Hopkins would take once I conducted the exorcism. I uttered a strong word of magic to unite the two ingredients and then sprinkled a handful into my father's copper box as a backup in case the spirit of Matthew Hopkins was somehow able to evade the multiple binding spells I'd invoked into the engravings on the box.

  I dumped the entire contents of the ember's salt into a large ceramic bowl and waited for Marcus to show up. Betty had disappeared for a few moments and returned with a blanket that dangled from her drooling doggy lips. She dropped it at my feet and let out a loud sneeze, once again covering me with dog snot.

  Oh yeah, being a witch rocks sometimes.

  "What's that?" I asked, poking at the blanket with my left foot.

  Betty stepped back and dropped onto her tan coloured haunches. "I found it in a box on a shelf in your mother's closet. I picked up the scent of your father's residual magic on that copper box and it led me to this."

  "What is it?"

  "A Shadowcull's cloak," she said. "It has protective spells sewn into the fabric and it's strong enough to stop everything from bullets to hellfire. You'd best wear it."

  I reached for the cloak and felt it tingling with magical energies. As my fingers brushed against the thick fabric, a pattern of complex sigils and runes glowed for a short moment and then dissolved back into the cloak. I picked it up and held it out for inspection. It was the blackest fabric I'd ever seen, so black the light from the desk lamp beside me couldn't penetrate it. I threw it over my shoulders and was nearly whacked in the eye by a copper chain with a perfectly round clasp that bore my father's mark. I hooked the clasp in a thick canvas loop. The cloak dropped down past my knees.

  "Don't forget the hood," Betty rumbled.

  "Right," I said, reaching back and pulling the hood over my head. It fell over my eyes and I was enveloped in a warm blanket of my father's will, not to mention some butt-kicking protection.

  "You look very much the Shadowcull," said Betty the dog. "The enemy is going to be in for a shock when he lays eyes on you."

  I lowered the hood and blinked at her for a moment. "Betty, I need a few minutes to myself. There's something I have to do before we duke it out with Hudibras."

  The giant dog nodded once and plodded off to the living room. "Very well, I'll keep an eye out for Marcus."

  I grabbed a stick of chalk and drew a circle on the kitchen floor and stepped inside. I took a deep breath and then knelt down and pulled the hood over my head as I closed my eyes and raised my magic.

  I concentrated as I reached for my peripheral focus and within seconds, I felt my spirit once again slingshot out at breakneck speed. The neighbourhood of Lake Sundance flew past me in a blur of light and sound as I flew over treetops and buildings. I soared over the Glenmore Reservoir, past sailboats tied to their moorings and over Glenmore Park. I zipped through the roof of the Rockyview hospital. I whisked through three floors and then past a nurse's station until I was looking down on my mother and when I saw her, my heart stopped.

  There was an intravenous bag hanging from a stand next to the bed. A tube led to a pump that beeped every few seconds as it delivered tiny drips intravenously to her body through a needle taped to her right hand. I felt my heart breaking as I reached out and suddenly I could see the vaporous form of my hand brushing gen tly against her cheek. I leaned in to whisper in her ear.

  "Mom," I said, pushing back the urge to start crying. "I love you so much and I'm so damned sorry for dragging you into all of this. I wish it were me lying there instead of you because you've always been the strong one. You've always been there for me – from the time that Dad died and through my whole life up to now. And I saw him, Mom – I saw Dad. I spoke with him. He told me why you've been protecting me ever since he died. I know that someone took him from us and now someone wants to take you from me, but I'm not going to let that happen. I've taken his place as a Shadowcull and I'm going to fight with everything I've got to save you… To save us. I don't know if you can hear me or feel me, Mom, but please hang on. Don't give up, okay? You've never given up on me in my whole life and I'm not about to give up on you. I just need a few more hours, so please hang on."

  I looked on her for another few moments when I felt the sentinels warn me of someone approaching the house. Instantly my spirit left the hospital room and I was alone in the kitchen. I quickly got back to my feet and in seconds I was peering through the peephole on the front door. It was Marcus. His backpack bulged over his right shoulder. I whispered a word of magic and lowered the sentinels enough to let him in the house.

  Marcus' eyes bugged out when he saw me in the cloak. "Whoa! You look like a J
edi
."

  I pulled back the hood. "And I'm strong with the ways of the Force."

  Marcus trotted into the house and handed me a backpack stuffed with enough firecrackers to put a man in orbit. "We've got enough pyro in here for an artillery barrage," he said.

  "Did you wake your parents?" I asked as I closed the door and rearmed the sentinels.

  He snorted. "Not a chance. My dad snores so loud that he can drown out low-flying aircraft."

  I motioned for Marcus to follow me back down the stairs to Mom's library. I glanced at my watch and saw that it was 1.45am. Sunrise wouldn't be until shortly before 7am, but people started heading for work in the industrial blocks of Calgary around 5am. That gave us a little more than three hours to take down Hudibras.

  Betty the dog was up on her hind legs again reading my father's grimoire as I dropped the backpack beside the ceramic bowl filled with witch's chaff. I had enough sense to spot a box of zip lock bags on the shelving unit and I gave a hopeful smile. "Marcus, grab those zip lock bags, I have an idea."

  "No problemo," he said, tossing me box. "What's your plan?"

  I caught the box with one hand and ripped open the top. "We're going to stuff each bag with the firecrackers and make a kind of grenade out of them. I figure we can concentrate the effectiveness of the witch's chaff that way."

  "Sounds good. What do you want me to do?"

  I pointed to the ceramic bowl. "Coat all the firecrackers with the chaff. I'm going to run upstairs and take a quick shower just to make sure none of the chaff's residue is on my body. The last thing I need is for my magic to be weakened in the heat of the duel."

 

The shower felt heavenly and I wondered for a moment if this might be the last shower I'd ever take.

  But only for a moment.

  I was very near the end of my quest to save Mom and while I was fully aware that I might not survive the next few hours, I was filled with a curious mixture of optimism and a strong desire for revenge. In the short span of a day and a half, Hudibras had turned my life upside-down and I aimed to take it out on his hide.

  You know,
assuming
my magic was strong enough.

  I glanced down at my Shadowcull's band as the hot water splashed down my shoulders. I had my amulet, my copper band, a vessel to capture Matthew Hopkins' spirit and some magical countermeasures that would weaken Hudibras. All that was left for me to do was to send a clear message into the night by means of a summoning spell and it would be up to skill, fate and a little bit of luck after that.

  I shut the water off and stepped out of the shower to dry myself. I should have been terrified about what I was about to do, but the attacks on me and those I loved fuelled a simmering anger and a desire to strike back.

  And I was starting to like this new, dark side to me.

  I hung up my towel on the back of the door and ran a comb through my damp hair. Marcus had stood by me, God love him, just like he said he would. It made sense for me to ask that he go home and wait to hear from me, but I knew that would fall on deaf ears. He'd already had a near-death experience tonight and it only acted to reinforce his resolve to be there for me, even when I was being a high maintenance you-know-what.

  Minutes later, I was back down in the lab when I noticed my laptop was still open. I walked over and was about to shut it down when I saw the flickering image of the end of the YouTube video showing the attack on those poor dogs. I clicked on the browser icon and saw that I had a notice in my toolbar informing me that I had email. I clicked on the icon and found a message in my inbox from Marcus. From the time stamp, it looked like he'd sent it after I shot him down in the basement the other day.