The Freedman and the Pharaoh's Staff (27 page)

"He doesn't want to hold a trial, or make the public aware the Klan is in New York. We've just put down the last of them, and have had to quell several race riots. We don't want more animosity. Understood?” Before Jeb could answer, the sergeant turned about-face. He pulled his frock coat collar up to escape the sun shower.
 

Jeb watched him disappear into the street, amid a sea of umbrellas. He shut the door, unfolded the parchment, and read the directions. They were difficult to understand—in Northern dialect, he assumed and in poor handwriting. Jeb made his way back, muttering to himself. He kicked Crispus awake.

“What! I'm up. I'm up." At least that's what Jeb thought he heard. Crispus's jaw still looked like a mound of rotten meat.  

“We been so kindly deputized by the governor. He says this can lead us to where Verdiss's at,” said Jeb, shoving the parchment at Crispus. “Can you read it? I can't make a damn word out of it."

Crispus nodded, rubbing his jowl. “My jaw still hurts...but let me try.” With meticulous care, he smoothed the paper out to undo the fold. Then perused the note. “It seems there's an old dairy farm called Cow's Head that's just outside of Yonkers. I guess it's a town on the eastern bank of the Hudson River. What is this, Jeb?”

“The governor says Verdiss and him boys'll be at that barn doing some sort of ceremony. I'm thinking them monsters have turned on each other. Some kind of duel, maybe," said Jeb. “But, they need the staff, don't they?” He eyed the artifact, his hand on his sword. If he were quick enough he could snatch it from Crispus and shatter it. Though Cornelius made it out to be harder than that.

“Finished!” said Cornelius, putting down the
Magus Liber
. “Now listen to this." He motioned them to gather around him. Jeb leaned over his shoulders. “It says to activate the staff's magic one must repeat these words: ‘In the name of Narmer I command it'. And keep in your mind what you wish to happen. Wait—” He halted Jeb, as he opened his mouth to say something. "—there's more. You asked if it can be destroyed."
 

Jeb caught Crispus's glare, but ignored it.
I'll deal with him later.
 

“The
Magus Liber
says that
if the God-King Narmer's staff falls into corrupt hands, it must be destroyed.” Cornelius gave an annoyed grunt, then continued, “To do so, it must be broken in half by a blessed sword. Then it must be burnt to ashes and tossed into opposing oceans to be lost forever to the seas of time. Hmm, interesting.” Cornelius tugged on his beard.
 

Jeb reached to grab staff, but Crispus recoiled like a frightened child. “No, Jeb. I won't allow it! How can you want to destroy it? The Pharaoh's Staff can change everything. We can use it to unite our people, and bring peace to the world. I hear you at night, when you're sleeping. Those aren't pleasant dreams are they? You're dreaming about those boys you lost during the war.” Tears formed in Crispus's eyes. Why, thought Jeb. “
Our
boys who gave their lives for
our
freedom. Now we have a chance to change that. Change it all. Make everything all right. Make sure nothing like that happens again.” His grip tightened on the faience staff. “It's too important!”
 

Damn fool!
Jeb took a step closer. “Crispus, listen. Nothing can make everything all right." Voice calm, quiet, Jeb rested a hand on Crispus's arm. “I know. I know.” His body slacked under his own thoughts. How he wanted to believe what Crispus did. To have that kind of hope. “It just too dangerous. Verdiss and him boys'll never stop till they get the staff. You know what Fallon said happens if they get it. This evil king. He'll kill us all. We can't let that happen." Jeb put his other hand on the staff. Its glaze was warm, soothing, as if it
were
magic. “If they use it the way you say they can...all them deaths'll be for nothing. Elle Mae. Rayford. Lafayette. Who knows how many died back in Allenville.”
How many?
The thought was almost as frightening as that devil Verdiss.
 

“You got to see it needs to be destroyed. You got to see that, don't you?”

Crispus stood a long moment, thinking, eyes darting from Jeb to Cornelius to Fallon who stirred awake. Jeb could see the thoughts race through Crispus. Trying to think. Of what? An argument to convince him otherwise?
There isn't one. He needs to see I'm right.
 

No, not an argument. Maybe Crispus was trying to plan an escape. Break past him and flee into the city. But he wouldn't let it happen. Jeb would stop him. He could see Crispus knew it, too.

Jeb kept his hands on Crispus and the staff. The two stared at each other. Eyes fixated, both knew what the other was thinking. Both knew too well.

“Don't do it, Crispus. We got to break it,” said Jeb. “You know I ain't going to let you go.” He made it obvious his grip tightened around the staff.

“You're right, Jeb. Forgive me.” Crispus relaxed. “Naturally, we have to destroy it. I was foolish to think otherwise.”

Nodding, Jeb pulled the staff from Crispus's hands.
Fool's finally making some sense
. Was it the glaze or something else that gave the staff that soothing warmth? The fact it gave off anything...maybe it
was
the magic? Afraid to hold it any longer than he had to, Jeb dropped the earthenware staff to the ground. He unsheathed his saber as Crispus plopped down against a stack of books. His expression said it all—his hope was tapering off.
 

Jeb raised his saber, hands taught on the hilt. One fell swing, that's all it would take.
This insanity will be over.
He'll leave those crackers the staff, have enough time to escape New York with Keturah and Bettina and Jupiter, and even Crispus. They'd head out west, maybe California. There could still be some gold left out there.
 

“It's not going to work, you dolt!” Cornelius barked.

Even if it is magic, I don't believe it. So it'll break. That's how all magic works... right?
Jeb struck the staff, using his anger to fuel his blade. But the earthenware didn't break. Not just that, it somehow pushed his own force back at him. From the jolt, he lost his balance. Unable to control his body, Jeb stumbled a moment then fell backward onto his ass. He couldn't tell whether it was the room or his head spinning. Had it been the fall or the staff that shocked him? Through the twisting room, he could hear Crispus and Fallon laughing.
 

“I told you it wouldn't work.” Jeb heard Cornelius's smug voice. It took a long moment for the room to settle, all the while Jeb held his head between his legs.

After the world calmed down and he regained his senses, Jeb stood, glaring at the dwarf. “You're the one that said, ‘Of course it can be broken!' Talking like I'm stupid.” He scowled. “That hurt, dammit. Why ain't it break?”

Cornelius grunted. “Are you going to break a building with a fork? No, of course not. It
can
be broken, as I said. It's just a matter of
what
can break it. We're not dealing with some fossil wasting away with time. Like I said, I believe the staff's more powerful than that. As a rule, it is very difficult to destroy
real
‘magic' relics. If you want to use that silly word.” Cornelius rolled his eyes. “Think about
it like this.
Voodoo
. You say it only works if you believe it works, yes?”
 

Jeb nodded.

“Well, the staff is thousands of years old. That's
thousands
of years worth of believing. If believing gives the magic strength, or energy, then you can imagine how much energy this thing has in it. Energy can't be washed away or die with time. It's always there. Unseen. Yet still very real.”
 

Jeb itched his stubble, eyes on the faience staff. It mocked him, it's blue glaze laughing at his ignorance.
Dare break me! I am forever.
He imagined it saying. “I don't know anything about that. But." He turned to Crispus. “If we're gonna find Verdiss and them tonight, we're gonna need some more ammunition. I'm gonna go to the market and pick up some traps. Look for a blessed sword.” Jeb scoffed. Where the hell was he going to find one? Did it need to be blessed be a priest, a
houngan
, a preacher, a rabbi?
I'm supposing a houngan would do.
 

“Yes, of course! Excellent idea!” Crispus leapt to his feet. “Perhaps purchase some food and drink. We may need to spend some time at the farm before Verdiss and his men arrive.”

Jeb eyed Crispus. The fool had a plan. Probably to leave as soon as he stepped out the door. “Planning something? I think I'm taking the staff with me." Jeb grabbed for it, but Crispus managed to yank it away.

“No. Cornelius and I have to study it further. If we are to destroy it, we must learn what we can beforehand. Have you ever thought that destroying it might be dangerous? All that energy Cornelius was talking about might be unleashed. Correct?” Crispus looked to the dwarf, who was already pouring over the
Magus
Liber
again.
 

“Yes, yes. It may do all sorts of things,” said Cornelius. “Go procure what you need, Jebidiah. Crispus and I will talk. Don't worry. I'll keep an eye on him." He cut Jeb off with a glare. “You won't run off now, will you?” Cornelius turned to Crispus. He shook his head. “See? Now take the boy and go.”

“All right. Let's go, Fallon." Jeb retrieved his saber from the floor and slid it into its scabbard. He headed for the door, still nervous about leaving Crispus behind with the staff. But he was right, and good thing Crispus thought of it. Jeb was ready to destroy the staff without a moment's thought. Doing so could very well do something he'd never imagine. Explode. Shoot fireballs. Or any other magic thing from a fairytale. Hell, it could summon a lugaru to tear them all to pieces for all he knew.

“Coming!” Fallon chased after Jeb. “Anything to get out in the city and look for more haunted places.” The two went off into the city.

All the while, Jeb couldn't help thinking.
Shit. What the hell did you just do? You left that reckless fool with
the staff.
 

 

 

 

Chapter Forty-Two

 

“Cornelius.” When the door clicked shut Crispus crouched down beside the dwarf at his desk. “You know you have to let me go. As a historian, as a scholar, you cannot let the staff be destroyed. Forget what the legend says.” He kept his gaze on Cornelius. Where the dwarf shifted his eyes, Crispus made sure to meet them. “It doesn't matter if it's magical or not. It's crucial to keep it safe. For research, if anything. Imagine what we can learn from it. Secrets from the earliest king of Egypt. Five thousands years' worth of knowledge. That's magic in itself. We
have
to be keep it safe. Keep it away from Jeb. Agreed?”
 

Cornelius regarded Crispus, playing with his long beard. “I . . . agree." He paused mid-stroke. “But what do you plan to do with the Pharaoh's Staff if I let you leave? You and your brother-in-law seem to think it can turn lead into gold or some silliness. You will be sorely disappointed.” His expression grew stern. “If I could I'd just take it from you. But I suppose that could be considered stealing. I'm not a thieving scoundrel.”

Neither am I.
Crispus glanced away.
 

“So, I cannot stop you from taking it.” A scowl crossed Cornelius's face. “Remember, if you break it or lose it,
you
will be responsible for losing thousands of years of history. Can
you
live with that?”
 

All Crispus could offer was a nod. He couldn't bear that responsibility. Not that.

“I'm not going to deal with that brute you call a brother-in-law, so just be certain you're back before he is—“

“Of course!” Crispus leapt to his feet. “Don't worry! Don't worry. I'll be back before Jeb.” Already gathering his things, he rushed for the door while making certain the staff was secured in his satchel. Then his pistol, knife at his belt, and his hand was on the doorknob when Cornelius screamed.

“Be back before Jeb is! You hear me?”

Out in the street, the noon sun pushed aside the chill of autumn if for a moment. Pleasant aromas of food mingled with the stench of garbage. Across the street, overflowing with city folk enjoying lunch, sat the woodland of Central Park.

Trees graced the lush landscape. Red oaks, turkey oaks, and sugar maples swayed in the wind and glowed in the crisp daylight. The beautiful Yoshino Cherries covered most of the area, resembling pink, fluffy clouds. Children skipped and played among the trees like sprites.

Those children will have plenty to celebrate after tomorrow.
As much as Crispus wanted to wander through the park, enjoy nature not soiled by swamps and alligators, he couldn't. He needed to keep the staff safe. Safe from Jeb. Get far away from the warehouse. Jeb was a great soldier and good man, but he was a fool to think the staff should be destroyed. Misguided. Ignorant. He'd show Jeb though. Prove the staff's power by slaying Verdiss, Narce, and their
Geist
Führer
.
 

It took Crispus hours to trek through the maze of streets and alleyways. He got lost a number of times. But found his way up Madison Avenue into Harlem, left onto East 125
th
Street, crossing over onto Washington Heights. There he found a buggy to take him north to Yonkers via Riverdale Avenue. That lengthy, infuriating, and bone-aching trip took four hours. It would've taken far less
if
a cab had picked him up when he called for one.