Kyle the Apprentice Warlock

Chapter 88



Across the grass from Jim also shaded by the same grove of trees as the journalist, Camina was fussing with a vampire.  No, not fussing.  She was trying to pull out Ascalon, her incredibly powerful pact item.  A holy item with the power of the Big G.

Adrian Arcas, Director of The Museum of Unnatural Science and History, was struggling with her to stop her.  WHY?  People were in danger and he was just going to let them die?  At the hands of security golems?  One was a soldier.  A member of the United States Armed Forces.  A patriot.  How could the director be so cruel.

The soldier was shouting too.  Pointing to Camina and the Director as he hollered at them pleadingly.  Jim couldn’t make out exactly what was being said over the rumbling thrum of the approaching golems, but clearly, he was pleading with Camina and the director to save his life.  And the Director wasn’t letting Camina help the pair trapped under the fading shield spell.

The journalist narrowed his eye as he filmed the confrontation.  This was not a good look for the Museum.  Hell, it wasn’t a good look for Jim.  Was a licensed mage like himself really going to stand by and just let someone die because a vampire was being a prick?  No?  Unsure exactly what his intentions were, Jim made his way toward the struggling pair.  Still filming of course.  One must never stop filming.

His blood was pounding in his ears, and he was at that moment more scared than he’d probably been during the entire previous two?  Or was it three, days?  He’d been up and awake a long time now and even as the thought crossed his mind, Jim felt himself sway on his feet.  That was not good.  But bad things were happening.

While questioning whether or not he was even in a state to make good judgement calls or safely use magic, Jim Thafesh, embedded journalist extraordinaire, continued stumbling toward his boss and her opponent.  His approach brought their words to him more clearly, while the increasing volume of the golems’ footsteps warred with drowning their voices out.  Still, he was able to catch more and more of the argument.

“Just let me draw their attention.” The furious Camina protested.

“You will only increase their threat level, Camina.” Adrian tried to counter as he pulled on Ascalon. “Look you idiot.  You’ve already drawn their attention and it’s not slowed them down one bit.”

“That’s my son, you overgrown mosquito.” She jerked back hard on Ascalon as it was growing in her hands.

“Mosquito?”  Adrian growled and his eyes began to clow crimson. “See if you think the same thing after a…”  The complaint died into a hurt mumble before his voice came back stronger. “I can turn them off just stop trying to transform.  You’ll only further activate their threat assessments.”

“I’m supposed to trust the vamp who got my kid into this situation in the first place?” Camin jerked her pact item, and by extension the very well-dressed vampire, in the direction of the bright morning sunlight.

“Oh.  Woah.”  Adrian jerked himself back away from the sunny grass he’d almost fallen into. “You almost put me back in the light madam.  I could have been seriously harmed.” As if he wasn't already blistered red and slightly smoking after his run across the lawn.

“Then let go or I’ll show you some serious harm.”  Camina wasn’t relenting and a cold sweat beaded the vampire’s forehead.

“Just stand down and let me – ”

“Stand down?  My kid is in danger you flamboyant – whufpms” Whatever the Last Line had intended to say as she gathered power around her and prepared to cast some pretty unpleasant spells was interrupted by a wordless battle cry from Jim as he barreled into her.  The two fell in a tangle of limbs while the Warlock of Archangel Michael shrieked her fury and dismay.

“Jim?!”  Having never actually fought a vampire before, Jim had doubts as to whether or not he could even move the man, or if the expensively suited, tall, lithe, figure would just stand there like a mountain while Jim’s rushing charge bounced off of him with bone breaking force.

He just didn’t know.  What he did know was that he was in no state to be calling on magic.  Like, at all. And Camina needed a helping hand to get her opponent off balance.  So, a charge to knock the guy down seemed like the best option.

If he hadn’t been awake for so many hours and hopped up on stamina potions, maybe the journalist might have reconsidered his position.  Perhaps if he’d been able to hear better he would have realized that Adrian was trying to turn off the attacking golems but Camina’s mama bear reaction was creating further danger.  For others, not for her.  But Jim didn’t know, and couldn’t process that right now because the last few days had caught up with him and his brain wasn’t in the most rational state at the moment.

Camina was also not in the greatest frame of mind.  Which is why she didn’t notice when Jim started his charge yelling as he came.  Adrian had noticed, with a raised eyebrow and a simple response.  He just stepped back out of the way and let the young man fall into the angry mother Adrian was wrestling with.

“Thank you, Mister, I forget your name.  But thank you.”  He stepped away from the flailing pair wiping his hands as he began whispering an incantation.  A hissing sibilance of words that weren’t quite understood.  Were they Latin?  Were they Aramaic?  Greek?  It was impossible to tell as the built and grew, overlapping over and over again, circling out from the vampire who now raised his arms to the heavens. 

His spell had become an incoherent roaring chant in the air, visible lines of magic with the symbols and runes that enchanted the golems of Central Park and the museum security now linked each and every golem.  They had stopped advancing but their feet stomped and rumbled as the air hummed with magic.  Then… silence. 

No feet stomping.  No golems moving.  No echoing after the thunderous crescendo of the whispered spell.

Nothing.

A breeze blew through the meadow and Jones felt like his breath and his heartbeat were the loudest sounds that had ever existed in that moment.

“Ah… Mister Jones,” the director called over to him. “Could you please bring Kyle over to us.  I have a slight bit of trouble with the light.”

“Yes, Sir?”  Jones had to take a moment to let the words filter through his brain.  He was still coming to terms with the fact that the golem forty feet away had been intending to smash them with its feet.  He could tell from the way its foot was raise that it had entirely intended to step on the prone pair.  The Magicorps soldier felt hesitant through his stunned mind though he complied immediately, rolling the groaning Kyle over and then positioning the warlock over his shoulder.  Kyle and Jones had made it most of the way to the shade of the trees when a muttering Camina finally extricated herself from the delirious young man who had crashed into her.

“Oh my God.  My Baby.”  She staggered to her feet and rushed at Jones who kind of dropped Kyle in his terrified desire to be as far away as possible from the riled-up Camina Wattkins in mother mode. 

The director shot Jones a significant raised-eyebrow look over his shoulder as he picked up the young man at his feet.  Something about that look told Jones that this was going to be a very long day.

 

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