Something in the lovers said to take their shoes off. Only an hour before he had declared his love for her and she for him. Now, with the lights of Big City looking over the trees like a child watching ants on the pavement, the lovers walked barefoot through the dewy grass of Center Park. As if scripted, the man pulled the woman to him and they kissed. Nearby, an old Elf couple passing on a moonlight carriage ride, stole a glimpse of love just beginning. The lovers kept walking further from the path and the lights.

 

            Near a small lake, in a quiet corner of the park, they made love.

 

            They tried to hold back the world. They wanted to stop time and not have to return home to separate beds. They wanted to stay there forever.

 

            They never heard the splashing. They never saw the thing rise from the lake. The man only opened his eyes in time to see the thing bear down on them and rip them apart. When it was done the thing returned to the lake. It was tired. The next time, it would go further.  

 

            The remains of the lovers lay there, their arms still holding one another. Beside them, carved into the ground, the words:  FURY – ACTION – FREEDOM.

 

 

Big City

AVATAR

by Eric Schwartz

 

There was a creamer, then a box of blue-tip all-weather matches and a laminated bookmark (as a balancing agent). The capper was a crisscrossed grid of three swizzle sticks at 90 degrees to the three paperclips on top of them. This one had been standing for 7 days, nearly approaching the station record of 13 days.  Any files or packages were gently deposited on the other side of the desk.  The tiny sculptures and their longevity had become a source of office pride. As shifts came and went most everyone would take a look to make sure the little masterpieces were still standing. Anyone clumsy enough to knock one of the sculptures over had to buy doughnuts for the office.  If a perp being booked knocked it over, the responsibility then fell on the arresting officer.  Somehow over the years, the nervous habit of one detective had become the totem, the icon, the defining symbol of all his fellow officers. All the officers but one.

 

Needless was early as usual. He sat at the desk adjacent to his partner’s, glowering at the tiny sculpture that sat proudly on his partner’s desk. He would protect it from anyone…only because he desperately wanted to knock it over himself. He saw the sculpture as a personal threat. It was the physical embodiment of an ordered mind or at the very least, a mind trying to order itself. It stood for days daring him. It taunted the seed of chaos that had given the nickname Needless Action in the first place.

 

Somehow Needless could never bring himself to smash the little piles of stuff. Little angel vs. little devil – angel wins.  

 

            The man that the department knew as Stack sat at his desk. He was meticulously transcribing the taped phone conversation between a suspected arms dealer named Wilsted and a Goblin lawyer named Slith. Wilstead was suspected of selling weapons to street gangs for the remnants of the Manzetti crime family. Slith, it was believed was helping to launder the money. As yet the police had no proof.  This tap had been on Wilstead’s phone for weeks. Nothing out of the ordinary was heard. A dozen pizza orders.  A few calls to phone lines of ill-repute. Nothing.  He transcribed everything. Every last word archived in his computer.

 

            Stack stopped the tape and dropped his headphones on the desk. He looked across at Needless, who was staring at the small pile of objects that had been on Stack’s desk for a week.

 

            “Are you going to do any of this?”  Stack said to Needless. Without breaking his stare Needless shook his head slightly. “You really want to knock this down. Don’t you?”

 

            “In the worst way.”

 

They both became vaguely aware of two people standing next to the desks. Needless shook off his stare and looked up into the always-red face of their Captain, Dennis Breen. Standing with him was a shorter man. The man looked disheveled, like some one had just pulled him out of a coma, made him smoke a half pack of cigarettes and dumped him outside the police station. Stack and Needless stood up.

 

“Sgt. Forray. Sgt. D’yen. This is Albert Welp,” Breen said sporting a broad smile that indicated to the two that they were about to get the royal – gold plated – jewel encrusted – oiled gently shaft. “Mr. Welp this is Detective Sergeant Adam Forray and his partner Sergeant John D’yen.” 

 

Handshakes were exchanged. After a quiet moment Needless finally chimed in. “What’s going on?”

 

“Mr. Welp here is writing a book about the Manzetti Family. He’s here to follow you guys for a few weeks. You know, to ask questions about how you broke them up and stuff.” Breen said beaming. “Oh and you guys have been requested down in Center Park.” Breen laughed deep as he left Stack and Needles with Mr. Welp.

 

            “Okay,” Welp said pulling a notepad out of his back pocket, “which one is Stack Fury and which one is Needless Action?”  Welp then sat on the edge of Stack’s desk, knocking over the small creamer/matchbook pile that could have gone into the department’s record books.

 

*

 

            In the quiet dark the rat’s nails clicked along the concrete floor. The rat scampered along the corner of the room. It smelled something. Something it hadn’t smelled before. A hint of static electricity. Sweeter. Harder to define. The rat continued to move in the dark.

 

            In a sliver of light, a black eye followed the rat. A word was mumbled. The room filled with bright light as the rat erupted into flames. As the flames died away and the rat’s carcass sizzled, a hand reached down and snatched it from the floor. Within moments the rat was devoured and its bones picked clean.

 

*

 

            “Fury, action, freedom.” Stack read as he squatted next to the two lovers bodies. “I suppose it could be us but it’s kind of ambiguous.” He stood up and looked at Needless. “What do you think?” 

 

            “Got me?” He scanned the scene. “I mean these two are torn to shreds, there is this huge animal track and then ‘fury, action, freedom’. It’s not adding up to me.” 

 

            Stack turned to the patrolman standing near by. “Are they checking the lake?”

 

            “They’ll be sending a robot sub in about an hour.”

 

            “Tell me what they find.” Stack and Needless turned and headed back up to the car.

 

 

            “You thinking lake monster?” Needless said removing his latex gloves.

 

            “Man, I don’t know. If it is, it’s developed the incredible ability to write.” Stack stopped and looked back at the lake. “I don’t know what to think.”

 

            “You think it has anything to do with us?”

 

            Stack just stared out at the lake and started stacking coins in his pocket.

 

*

 

            Smiles Johnson pulled the toilet paper off his face where he had nicked himself shaving.  He wondered why the girl that drove the Java Jalopy didn’t say anything. He wondered why Maurice at the newsstand didn’t say anything. He wondered how many people had noticed this and no one told him. It was a conspiracy. A conspiracy of silence. The whole world laughing at him and plotting to keep him in the dark. Everybody but Charlie. He could always count on Charlie to tell him everything.

 

            “Is that better?” Smiles said dropping the bloody toilet paper into the trash can.

 

            “Smiles, have you ever considered maybe an electric? You know, with a rotary blade? Something where lotion comes out and leaves your skin nice and smooth?” Charlie flopped down on the forest green vinyl couch that he and Smiles had saved from a flea market 3 years before.

 

            “Charlie, my dear friend, don’t you have something to do?”

 

            “Nope. All our case files are closed. The coffee is made. Laura is at work. I’m free to harass you. How did you get to be the most sought after private investigator in the city when you can’t even tell that there is toilet paper on your face?”

 

            “Advertising. Look, you may not have anything to do but you do have your own office. Why don’t you go play one of those video games all the kids are crazy about.”

 

            Charlie stood up. “See ya later old man.” He left the office chuckling.

 

            “Shoo.” Smiles was already rummaging through cold case files, looking for something to do. Technically he shouldn’t have had these files. He took them when they left the force. He pulled some out whenever he needed something to do. Maybe there was something he missed. Perhaps he would gain a new perspective on an old crime. The only file he never opened anymore…was Gina’s. Even seeing the name on the tab was rough. It was getting better, but the pain was still there. Back in the drawer. He was relieved when there was a knock at the door.

 

            “Yep!” Smiles said jamming the file folders back into the drawer. A moment later Stack and Needless walked in with some guy who looked like he was buried overnight. “Hey guys come on in. Can I get you guys something? Charlie said the coffee is on.” Stack walked to Smiles and shook his hand as Needless and Welp sat down on the couch.

 

            Welp turned to Needless. “Now who’s this guy?”

 

            “That’s Robert Johnson. Everybody calls him Smiles. I haven’t quite figured it out why yet. Him and Stack were partners until about 6 years ago.” Welp jotted down a few things in his notebook. Needless watched him. “Why would you want to write a book about Pasketti?”

 

            Welp stopped writing and looked up. “Who?”

 

            “Paske…Manzetti.” Needless chuckled. “Sorry. It’s …a thing.”

 

            “Why would you call him Pasketti?”

 

            “Doodles. Doodles Pasketti. It’s a sign of disrespect. Smiles started it. Apparently Manzetti doodles all the time. Pasketti…is just a thing. So why the book?”

           

            “Because it fascinates me. The inner workings of the mob. How you guys broke up his syndicate. It’s a great story.” Welp went back to writing. “Do you think he’s still alive?”

 

            “Pasketti?” Needless’ face fell. “I hope for his sake he’s not.” Welp stared at him. Needless motioned to Stack and Smiles talking by the desk. “These two…they’d kill him if they ever found him.”

 

            Welp looked back at his notes. “Gina?”  Needless nodded silently. “What about you?”  Needless turned slowly and looked hard into Welp. “Manzetti killed your brother, right?”

 

Needless’ looked right through Welp, to the answer he had prepared for years before for this question. He looked at his hands. “What happened between my brother and Pasketti was known only to them.” Needless stood up, “You got a real knack for making people clam up. I’m getting some coffee.”

 

            Needless left the office. Welp sat for a moment thinking about how that could have gone better.

 

            “Lake monster?” Smiles said sitting on the desk.

 

            “That was my first thought but they checked the whole lake. Nothing.” Stack stared out the window.

 

            “So what do you need us for?”

 

            Stack turned back “You know the Department’s attitude toward Sweepers.”

 

            Smiles stood up with a sigh. “Oh boy.”

 

            “Look, Smiles, officially I can’t bring one in. If you do it, it’s all legit.”

 

            Smiles looked at him. “Okay. I’ll let you know what I find. I won’t be able to get to my Sweeper until tonight. I’ll have Charlie stake out the lake until the Sweeper can get in there tomorrow.”

 

            Stack shook Smiles’ hand. “Thanks.”

 

            Smiles smiled weakly. “Sure.”

 

*

 

            Charlie sat in his office reading the paper. The phone rang. He answered it and smiled. Probably Laura.

 

            The old man with the green eyes lowered his binoculars and shifted in his seat. He breathed a sigh and unwrapped his sandwich. Pastrami would be one of the things he would miss most when his job was done and he had to leave. Pastrami, Elven jazz and Goblin wine. A quarter century here had grown on him. He was a citizen of Big City. Like everyone else.

 

            He wouldn’t however miss endless days of bushes and rooftops watching the child. Protecting him from afar. He had grown to love Charlie like a son, living through everything with him. Every lost tooth, grade school play, kiss and heartache. Wanting to tell him everything he knew but being unable to.

 

            Someday he would be able to. Someday.

 

            The old man lifted his binoculars again. Johnson was now in Charlie’s office. They were talking. Watching closely, as that is what Watchers do, the old man finished his sandwich. Thinking again about how he loved pastrami.

 

*

            Laura dropped another strawberry into her mouth. There were worse things than spending a balmy night in the park with the man she loved, watching a lake.

 

            “So do you private eye types do a lot of this lake watching?” She said pulling her hair back into a quick bun. Charlie chuckled as he poured her another cup coffee. “I’m apparently in the wrong business. Who needs city council meetings, deadlines and murder trial stories when I could get into the growing field of water surveillance?” she said as she rested back on her elbows.

 

            “You got a pretty smart mouth. How did it get hooked up with the rest of you?” Charlie smiled.         She kissed him. “Anyway, you heard about what happened. Smiles is going to get a Sweeper and just wanted me to make sure nothing and no one showed up to clean the place.”

 

            Laura looked at him and shrugged. “I know I’m just a dumb girl, but… what’s a Sweeper?”

 

            “Uh…” Charlie searched for a way to make this sound less crazy, “..a Sweeper is like a forensic …magician.”  Laura let out a laugh. “No, seriously.”

 

            “I am all ears.”

 

            “Smiles explains it this way: every manipulation of energy, like a spell or a curse, leaves behind a trail. A marker. Like a fingerprint. Sweepers come in and sweep the place. Find out what happened.”

 

            “I’m assuming it’s not exactly legal.” Laura said, blowing on her coffee.

 

            “Well no, not really. But Sweepers were once used by the police all the time.”

 

            “Like 40 years ago.”

 

            “Yeah. There’s no reason to think they don’t still have their place. People are still out there using magic, albeit illegally. Everybody knows that.”

 

            As the two talked, the surface of the lake rippled and gurgled.

 

            Laura bit into another strawberry. “You know, during religious ceremonies and the like. It was banned. Self banned. The magic users themselves declared the moratorium on all spells, and secreted the library away. Big City is a magic free zone. It’s a nearly dead art. There hasn’t been a magic related crime in over 40 years.”

 

            “What about that kid they found all magged out on the flats last year? Icons and relics can still be purchased on the streets.” Charlie was fairly proud of his argument and sipped his coffee in approval.

 

            “Charlie, a quick buzz isn’t like conjuring up a murder. Okay, let me amend my statement. All the truly powerful magic is off the streets.” Laura lifted her coffee to her mouth and looked out at the water as the lake exploded with a roar.

 

*

            Smiles checked the address on the yellowed piece of paper again. The address was correct. This rundown tenement was home to one of the last living Sweepers. Smiles stepped over the drunk passed out on the front steps.  Sounds of a husband and wife fighting echoed through the hallways as he stepped over bags of garbage and some toys lying on the floor. Finally he reached the door and knocked.

 

            After moment a gravelly voice bellowed from the other side of the door.

 

            “Who is it?” came the voice.

 

            “My name is Robert Johnson. I’m a private investigator.  I’m looking for Wyshok Meen. This is the address I was given.”

 

            “You have the wrong address.”

 

            “This is the address I was given. Wyshok knew my father. Do you have another address you could give me?!” There was silence on the other side of the door. “Hello?” Still nothing. Smiles waited for a moment, listening for anything on the other side of the door. There was nothing. Smiles crumpled up the address and shoved it into his coat pocket. “Thanks anyway.” Smiles said as he moved away from the door.

 

            The door opened. Standing in the doorway was an old woman about a head and a half shorter than Smiles. She wore an ancient house coat.

 

            “You must be Frank’s boy.”

 

            Smiles turned back. “Yeah.”

 

She looked him up and down. “Frank was a hell of a guy. One of the best politicians this city ever had. He was an ass, but a hell of a guy. Come on in.”

 

Smiles stepped into the apartment.

 

*

            “Run!” Charlie yelled as he grabbed Laura’s hand and scrambled away from the water.

 

            “What the hell is it?!” Laura yelled as they ran through the darkness.

 

            “Big!” Charlie shouted.

 

The giant shadowy hulk stepped on shore and bounded after the two. Trees shattered in its path.

 

            Charlie and Laura burst out of the tree line and arrived at the car. Charlie threw open the door, grabbing his shotgun and a small velvet bag. The creature smashed into the clearing and howled at them.

 

            “Charlie! Get in the car!” Laura yelled .

 

            In the dim parking lot light Charlie could see the thing better. Nearly shapeless, yet defined. Parts of the creature became sharper and then softened as he looked at it. As though it was going in and out of focus. It stood nearly 20 feet. Charlie cocked his shotgun and aimed it.

 

            The Watcher with green eyes bolted out of the trees a ways off just in time to see the Charlie and the creature staring each other down. Then the creature turned and ran into the park away from Charlie.

 

            Charlie threw the shotgun into the back seat leapt onto the hood of the car clutching the velvet bag. “Follow it!!” He shouted to Laura.

 

            “Are you out of your mind?!?”

 

            “Follow it.”

 

            Laura threw the car into gear and drove off into the dark after the beast.

 

            The Watcher ran after the car pleading with them to stop but it was too late. He extracted a small metallic object from his pocket and was no longer there.

 

*

            Stack wasn’t sleeping.  He sat with a beer in his hand watching late night reruns. Something wasn’t right with the lake problem. He laid his bottle cap on top of the remote control which was balancing on a small stack of coasters.

 

            The phone rang.

 

            “Hello?” He answered. He heard the voice of one of the third watch cops.

 

            “Sgt. Forray? We just got a call from one of our mounted officers. Something is happening in Center Park.”

 

            “What kind of something?”

 

            “Something is loose.”

 

            Stack hung up the phone. “Charlie,” He murmured to himself as he grabbed his gun and headed for the door.

 

*

            Carriages and late night strollers scrambled for safety as the creature moved swiftly in a straight line across the park.

 

            The creature knew where it was going. It hoped it would make it this time. It could feel the weakness growing. The grip that kept it running was beginning to loosen.

 

            Charlie held tight to the roof of the car as Laura tried desperately to drive across the grassy terrain. They were catching up to the creature. It was obvious it was heading out of the park.

 

            “Pull up on it and try to keep pace next to it!” Charlie bellowed over the wind. He pulled a small piece of electronics out of the velvet bag and put it in his teeth.

 

            Laura would have rolled her eyes at the machismo if she hadn’t been so terrified. Instead she gunned it and gained on the creature. She brought the hood of the car even with the beast.

 

            Charlie pulled a switchblade out of his pocket, flicked it open, swallowed all common sense and took a running leap at the creature. The knife sunk into the surface of the creature as Laura slowed and pulled away. Charlie attempted to use the knife as leverage to get a hold on the creature. Until he realized that, as the creature’s skin shifted, his arm was being sucked in.

 

            “What the hell?!” He screamed as all tension vanished and he fell 12 feet to the ground. The creature continued on without him. Charlie heard a snap and felt pain shoot up his spine as he hit the ground and rolled to a stop.

 

            Laura sped after the creature.  Adrenaline slammed her foot to the floor. The creature was yards away from hitting the streets of Big City. A short prayer, which sounded like an expletive but was indeed a plea for help, crossed her lips as she barreled into the shrubs that lined the park. As she crashed through the line of shrubs onto the street, she realized the thing was gone. She slammed on the brakes but found they locked and the car began spinning out of control. As she hit the light post at full force she thought of Charlie. Glass shattered and she tasted blood in her mouth. Laura Medrano slipped into blackness as the streetlight toppled to the ground next to the car and shattered.

           

*

           

            Stack stood in the center of the aftermath barking orders at city workers and beat cops, telling them to question those people, close off that area of the park. Trying like hell to hold back the wave of fear, sorrow and guilt that were brewing just below the surface. Two friends were on their way to the hospital and it was his fault. He knelt next to the stretcher where Charlie was strapped down, waiting to move.

 

            “Charlie? I’m so sorry.” 

 

            Charlie looked at him. “Is Laura all right?”

 

            Stack could only shake his head. “I don’t know, Charlie. I really don’t know.”

 

            Charlie closed his eyes.

 

            Stack rested his hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Charlie. I have to ask. What was it?”

 

            “I don’t know. It was huge. It walked on two legs, and the skin. It wasn’t solid. It was…huge.” Charlie closed his eyes and thought of Laura. He felt sick and numb as the EMTs lift the stretcher into the ambulance.

 

            Stack watched as the ambulance pulled away. He put his hands in his pockets and sighed. He made his way back to the street where Laura’s car was being towed away, her unconscious body long since rushed to Big City General. He watched everything closely but he heard no sound. Just the mind-hum of concentration and guilt. His thousand yard stare was broken by the appearance of another officer.

 

            “Sgt. Forray?  We found something over here that I think you should see.”

 

            Stack followed the uniformed officer back into the shrubs that separated the park and the city street. Stack crouched near the patch of ground indicated by the officer. As the officer shone his light on the patch, the image became clearer to Stack.

 

            The words seemed blasted into the soft ground near the end of the beast’s trail.  The words read: “HELP ME.”

 

*

            It had taken the hospital staff almost an hour to tell Charlie what was going on with Laura. When they finally told him they said only that she was in surgery. He didn’t care about his leg. His mind was filled with Laura. He wanted the thing dead. He wanted to get his hands on it. Rage turned  to frustration and frustration turned to tears. He stared out of his hospital room window at the lights of the city.

 

            There was a knock at the door. He looked over slowly as Smiles walked in and stood by the bed.

           

            Charlie’s mouth was dry as he spoke. “Laura…”

 

            Smiles didn’t let him finish. “Laura is going to be fine. She’s out of surgery. There was some bleeding but they’ve stopped it. She’ll be in here a while, but she’ll be all right.” Like a fist loosening, Charlie let go a slight yelp as he started crying. Smiles pulled a chair up next to the bed. “You will probably be able to see her in the morning. For now the doctor wants you to relax and get some sleep,” Smiles said, sitting. Charlie wiped his eyes and nodded. Smiles loosened his tie. “I guess my suggestion would be that you get your head checked out.”

 

            Charlie looked his boss in the face, “What?”

 

            “What the hell were you thinking?!” Smiles exclaimed as he stood again. Charlie could only stammer. “Both of you could have been killed. We don’t even know what this thing is!”

 

            “You told me…”

 

            “I told you to stake out the lake. I never told you to go off half-cocked after the thing. It sounds like something Needless would do. I don’t want to lose you, Charlie. I don’t want to lose Laura.” Smiles folded his trench-coat over his arm. He looked at Charlie and knew what he was feeling but only managed to shake his head. Smiles put his hand on Charlie’s shoulder.

 

            Charlie stared at his blanket.

 

            “I don’t know what scares me more: the fact that I could have lost you or the fact that I would have done the exact same thing,” Smiles said in a low voice. Charlie looked up. Smiles patted Charlie’s shoulder and moved toward the door. “I’ll stop by tomorrow when we know more  about what that thing was,” he turned back, “and how to kill it.”

 

            Charlie smiled slightly as Smiles turned back to the door and left. Charlie was asleep before Smiles’ footsteps stopped echoing in the hall.

 

*

 

            A mist hung low to the ground in Center Park as dawn swiftly overtook the sky. Albert Welp made a feeble attempt to lay down the oily cowlick that rose from the back of his head. He hadn’t slept. He had tagged along most of the night with Stack and Needless as they interviewed witnesses to the Center Park incident.  Sipping his frothy latte, he read over what he’d written the night before:

 

            Sgt. John D’yen loves being a cop. He oozes machismo from every pore. His reckless steadfastness in the face of adversity and his ability to throw caution to the wind has rightly earned him the nickname Needless Action.

 

            In his car he keeps a box of mix tapes, each one created and labeled for the different types of calls that he could be on. Terry Stop, High Speed Chase, Rolling to Interview and  Serving Warrant are but a few that he keeps on hand. He has personally upgraded his standard issue gun with a much larger piece that he has lovingly name Penny.

 

            Underneath the hard-line cop image is something darker. A constant awareness of his mixed human/elven blood and the determination to clear his family name of the taint created by his brother’s corruption. His low simmer hatred of the Manzetti crime family makes him a player in the Manzetti story.

 

            In contrast to D’yen’s open-air, forceful approach is the intensity of his partner, Adam Forray. Forray is the thinker. Known throughout the force by his tongue-in-cheek moniker, Stack Fury, Forray is a man of well thought-out action. Part profiler and part hunter,             Stack is a driven man. The kidnap and eventual murder of his Fiancée, Gina Johnson, at the hands of Manzetti, has driven him to work tirelessly to break up Manzetti’s  hold on Big City.

 

            The third piece of the puzzle is the late Gina Johnson’s elder brother and Stack’s former partner, Robert Johnson. The Gina fiasco broke Johnson. It drove him from the force and into brief hospitalization. He now makes his living putting his mind to the troubles of paying customers as a private investigator.’

 

            Welp closed his notebook with a fair amount of satisfaction. He took another sip of his coffee and moved closer to the action so he could hear what was happening.

 

            Wyshok Meen crouched near the lake, her hand hovering at the surface. Her eyes were closed tight in concentration. Needless rolled his eyes and turned back to Stack and Smiles.

 

            “You’re killing me here.”

 

            Stack smiled. “I figured you would feel that way.” He turned to Smiles. “How’d you find her.”

 

            Smiles took a drag off a cigarette. “She knew my father. Apparently she worked for the city as a liaison between the City Council and the Magic Users. She did some Sweeper work for the force too.”

 

            “How long has she been dead?” Needless chuckled, “She’s ancient.”

 

            Stack turned to Smiles, “So what exactly was Charlie trying to do last night?”

 

            “He didn’t say,” Smiles shrugged. “If I had to guess, he was trying to get a tracking device on the thing.”

 

            Stack wanted to apologize again but instead just looked out to where Wyshok was Sweeping.

 

            The spell traces were strong on the lake. Wyshok could feel them when she was walking up to it. It wasn’t easy for her to keep her hand near the water. It was hot with magic. She felt something terrible. A vibration she hadn’t felt in years. She shuddered as she came across the main vibration.  It was like a scream. It was like a bolt of hate, like an angry child that was stomping its feet. Her blood ran cold as she reached deeper into the web of energy and she could feel the core of the vibration. A steady energy that fueled the hatred. Like a laser it cut through the center of the magic. The source. So pure. Older than anything.  A flaw. An emissary. The weaving of destiny’s threads. The future.  She withdrew her hand from the surface of the water and looked at Stack, Needless and Smiles. The residue of the magic marked them in her eyes. The path of each laid out before her.

 

            Stack stepped closer to her. “Well?” he said.

 

            “Who the hell did you piss off?” she said.

 

*         

            Corrections officer Ben Tandy approached the solitary cell. He hated this part of the job. He wondered quietly why he always got shafted with taking the shmuck in solitary his food. It was bad enough that he worked in a prison but this place was disgusting. It smelled like sweat and urine. He always swallowed his hatred of The Hole and did it for his kids.

 

            He banged on the metal door with his night stick. “I got your food. Step back from the door. “ He heard quiet mumbling inside the hole. He banged again. “Yo! Hey! Step back if you want your chow!” The mumbling stopped. There was silence behind the door. Tandy readied his taser as he unlocked the door.

 

            The door creaked slowly open and Tandy slid the tray across the floor into the dark. He looked into darkness. The prisoner stood still facing him from the back wall, his face obscured in the dark.

 

            “Crap, man! You scared me.” The Prisoner said nothing. Tandy shrugged. Another guy driven crazy in The Hole. He began to shut the door.

 

            The prisoner let out a dusty wheeze of pleasure. Then, like an animal, he leapt at Tandy and buried his hands in Tandy’s sides..

 

            Tandy let out a cry for help and fell back against the wall. He could feel the prisoner’s fingers melting into his sides. The pain was inhuman. The prisoner’s unshaven face was in his, snarling. Tandy tried to gasp but could feel the prisoner’s searing hands squeezing his innards. The prisoner was panting and growling words that Tandy couldn’t understand.

 

            Thinking of his children, Tandy raised the taser to the prisoner’s neck and triggered it.

 

            With the yelp of an animal, the prisoner flew back into the cell. Tandy staggered forward and hit him again with the taser . With his last bit of strength he slammed the door shut, then collapsed to the floor.

 

            His fellow officers found him trying to crawl out of the solitary hallway. He didn’t want to die there.  Not down there. Tandy slipped into blackness as he heard the other officers gasp at his wounds.

 

*

            Wyshok raised the glass to her mouth and gulped like she had just stumbled out of the desert. She put down the glass and stared back at the men who sat around her kitchen table. She took a breath.

 

            “I haven’t felt anything like that in years. It was so angry.”

 

            Smiles leaned up. “What do you mean? The magic was angry?”

 

            “No.” Wyshok shook her head. “ Magic itself can’t be angry. By it’s very nature magic is neutral. Spells can be cast in anger, but this was different.”

 

            “So the creature in the lake is being controlled by some kind of spell.” Stack said as he raised his glass of water to his mouth.

 

            “Yes. But the creature isn’t IN the lake. It IS the lake.”  There was a long pause as Smiles, Needless, Stack and Welp, who was writing furiously, blinked at Wyshok. She held up her glass. “Do you have any idea the kind of power it takes to turn this into a killer. You are dealing with an avatar. A water golem. This avatar is created through magic and is full of hate for you two.” Wyshok pointed at Stack and Needless.

 

            Needless threw his hands up. “So we find the guy who’s pissed off and we stop the creature? That’s easy.”

 

            “How do we prosecute?” Stack shook his head. “Since the Moratorium took effect, any magic that is used to gather evidence or secure a warrant is thrown out of court.”

 

            Needless smirked. “Who says we have to prosecute?”

 

            Smiles stopped them. “We don’t even know who this is yet.”

 

            “There’s more.” Wyshok’s voice cut across the discussion. They all stopped and looked at her. “There’s more. And I don’t know how to tell you without sounding crazy. Who ever this is isn’t in control. The avatar was projected but not on purpose.  This guy has a lot of anger and hatred toward both of you. But he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He has come into possession of something.” She hesitated because this was the crazy part.

 

            Finally Welp’s voice broke the silence. “What?”

 

            Wyshok sighed. “The Skiv.”  She waited for the shocked looks. All she got were blank stares and shrugs. “The Skiv? Clear amber-like rock chip? About yay big?” She indicated the size with her finger. She grunted in frustration. “Thirty years ago this was one of the most sought after relics in the world. It was feared, desired, hated, loved.  Are you all familiar with the Melk Stone?”

 

            They knew that one.

 

Needless stood up. “This is stupid. We’re wasting our time here. Smiles, I don’t know what you’re paying her, but she’s trying to give you your moneys worth.” 

 

Smiles flashed an angry look at Wyshok. “You can’t be serious.”

 

Stack put his face in his hands and Wyshok sat silently.

 

Welp looked around the table. “What’s the Melk Stone?”  he said weakly.

 

They all looked at Wyshok.

 

“The Melk Stone is a rock of incredible power…” she began.

 

“Fictional rock!” Needless interjected, “Fictional! Legendary. Whatever word you need to convey in your notebook that it doesn’t exist.”

 

Wyshok rolled her eyes. “The Melk Stone is a powerful magic relic. According to legend and the G’luh Mhal holy book, the Melk Stone is the weapon that the last Elf Messiah will use against the Elves’ oppressors and it will open the door to Mhalasia…uh  paradise.”

 

“Welp. I don’t know how versed you are in Elf culture, but no one believes this anymore. In fact most new printings of the G’luh Mhal have taken out the Melk Stone section. It’s an ancient load of hogwash and I’m leaving.” Needless turned to leave.

 

“Sgt. D’yen!”  Wyshok stood up. “Of every one here this should matter to you the most.”

 

“Look, I like fairy tales as much as the next guy, but this is too much. I will accept that the creature is the result of magic but…the Melk Stone?”

 

Stack finally spoke, “Needless. Please. We have nothing else to go on. Let’s hear her out before we pass judgment.”

 

Needless groaned and flopped back into his chair.

 

Welp looked back at Wyshok, “So, what is The Skiv?”

 

Wyshok went to her antique roll top desk as she spoke. “According to legend, there are three Elf Messiahs. The first stole the Melk Stone from the forces of darkness, the second protected it during the Goblin wars and the third, which is yet to come, will use the Stone to vanquish the Elves’ enemies once and for all.” Out of the desk she pulled a large, beaten up leather binder and moved back to the table. “According to the legend, during the Goblin Wars…eight hundred years ago, or something…The Second Messiah, in an attempt to protect the Elf King Onrius Skiv, chipped the stone with his own sword and sent it off to the front lines. On the way to the battle, the rider was ambushed by Goblins and the chip passed to them. The Goblins believe it turned the tide of battle. The King was killed and the stone became known as The Skiv Killer, and eventually just the Skiv.” 

 

“What do you think?” Smiles said, finally unfolding his arms.

 

Wyshok shrugged. “Mr. Johnson, I am a firm believer that behind every legend there is some truth. And Mr. D’yen, for your information I do not believe the stories as told. We know The Skiv exists.”  From her binder Wyshok pulled a stack of papers. She slid a black and white photo to Smiles. “This picture was taken 45 years ago at the home of the chief Magic User’s, a wizard named Hogarth, during a political dinner. Mr. Johnson, you might recognize the man in the photo with him.”

 

Smiles did indeed recognize him.

 

Needless looked at the picture. “Who is it?”

 

“It’s my father.” Smiles said, looking deep into the picture.

 

Wyshok pointed at the photo. “The Skiv is on the table in front of them, in that display box. It was part of Hogarth’s personal collection. When your father and Hogarth brokered the moratorium, it was hidden away with the magic user’s library and several other relics.” She flopped a yellowed stack of papers on to the table. “It’s even inventoried here as a matter of public record.” She sat back down. “All I know is this: The Skiv is a relic of exceptional power. Whether or not it is a chip of the true Melk Stone, I don’t know. I do know that some one has obviously as found the hidden library and the Skiv. Somehow our angry friend has it.”

 

By the time Wyshok had finished speaking there was a stack consisting of coffee cups, spoons, napkins, a wallet, two sugar cubes and a set of keys on the table and Stack was staring hard into it.

 

*

Charlie hadn’t moved in hours. He hardly noticed the dripping of the IV and the whispered bleeps of the monitors. He just watched Laura breathe, waiting for some sign that she was waking. He didn’t know what time it was. He kept drifting in and out of sleep in the chair. His brief nap was usually cut short by the sound of a cart in the hall.

 

The scene replayed over and over in his mind: how the creature’s skin was like liquid, what he could have done differently. He should never have tried to tag the thing, but he was tired of everybody else doing all the exciting stuff while he and Laura did all the bookwork. ‘Baby steps’, he thought.

 

Charlie felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up into the face of the nurse.

 

“Mr. Pickens? I need to