Chapter 10: True Magic

We're coming up on the climax soon, but that doesn't mean the fights will be less exciting! I'm excited for the buildup and I hope you are too! Once again, this chapter contains violence and blood. Discretion is advised.

Hunter stared across the living room at Alan. The thief had made himself quite comfortable on the couch, casually admiring Hunter’s bookshelf. Houdini stepped out of the kitchen holding a sandwich. 

“How did you get in here?” Hunter asked. 

“How do you think?” Alan replied with a smirk. Hunter furrowed his brow. 

“Why are you here?” Hunter pressed. Alan stood up, putting his foot up on the coffee table. 

“I just wanted to have a chat,” he said. “I know you went out to fight Cal today.” 

“And?” Hunter asked. 

“I’m guessing it didn’t go well,” Alan said sympathetically. Hunter paused, doing everything he could not to break down in front of this perfect stranger. 

“I lost Red,” he finally admitted, not meeting Alan’s eyes. The thief walked over and gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. 

“I know how it feels to fail,” he said. He walked over to the window, looking out at the night. Hunter moved to the couch and sat down. 

“I tried so hard to get Beowulf back for her,” he said. “But I failed.” 

“And you lost someone else that you love,” Alan said. “What are you going to do now?” 

“I don’t know,” Hunter sighed. He stared at the coffee table, his eyes boring a hole in the cheap wood. Alan turned back to Hunter and draped a brilliant red sweater over his shoulders. 

“You look cold,” he said with a soft smile. Hunter looked up at him. 

“Where did you get this?” he asked incredulously. 

“Where do you think?” Alan chuckled. Hunter shook his head. He’d rather not think about where Alan - a career criminal - had gotten this sweater. He instead just let the gesture speak. He looked at the sweater, furrowing his brow. 

“Red isn’t really my color,” he said. Alan smiled. 

“Then make it yours,” he said. He nodded to Houdini, who set his hand on Alan’s back. The two vanished, leaving Hunter alone with his thoughts. He sighed, pulling his arms into the sleeves of his new sweater. He tucked his hands in the pockets, raising an eyebrow as he found a flip phone inside. He opened it up. There was a single number in the contacts. He closed his eyes, then took out his own phone. He dialed Iris’s number and let the phone ring. 

—

Iris hung up her phone, closing her eyes. A sigh of relief slipped from her lips. She walked into Grenda’s room, where the girl slept peacefully in her bed. Iris smiled as she looked at the sleeping girl. She sat down in a chair and let herself drift off. Relief is the greatest substitute for melatonin. She slipped into a peaceful dream as Medusa watched over her. She knew that her Hero would wake her if anything happened. 

—

Hunter woke up in the morning. It was Monday, and he had obligations to meet. He trudged to the kitchen, rummaging for some breakfast. He found a leftover muffin sitting alone in the fridge. Isolated, and full of strawberries. He stared at the sweet treat, gritting his teeth. Then, he leaned against the fridge, finally letting himself cry. 

—

Finally, Hunter walked through the doors of the college. He went to class, his body moving without thought. He was on autopilot, running entirely on habit just to numb the pain of his loss. It was only when he saw Iris across the room that he offered her the barest hint of a smile. She approached him after class ended, resting her hand on his shoulder. 

“New sweater?” she asked as she looked him over. Hunter nodded. He said nothing, nothing needed to be said. Iris pulled him into a hug and set her head on his shoulder. Hunter trembled, setting his hands on her back. He closed his eyes, leaning against Iris. 

—

In a shabby little apartment with the doors blocked off, Alan prepared his master plan. He hummed to himself as everything fell into place. The apartment was quite messy, the floor covered in food wrappers and old packaging. The closet door hung off one hinge, not that there was anything inside it. It was a mess, but Alan didn’t care too much. He had a plan. Houdini watched his Player, observing with a coy little smile. 

“Are you sure about this?” he asked. Alan lifted up a tangle of wires and began to sort. 

“Trust me,” he said. Houdini chuckled. 

“I’m just saying,” he said. “I feel like we should approach this with a little more tact.” 

“This is tactful,” Alan grinned. The plan was almost ready. He finished sorting his wires, then hooked a small microphone to his shirt collar. He took a look at his computer screen, then plugged a device into the microphone. He tested the device, syncing it with his computer. Perfect. 

“Alright,” he said with a smirk. “Let’s go.” 

—

Cal sat at the edge of the park. He held a cool cloth to his broken nose, gritting his teeth. Damn Hunter… Damn Beowulf! He pulled the cloth away. At least the bleeding had stopped. His nose still felt tender. He sighed. He needed a win, and badly. He looked around, then stood up. Arthur appeared beside him, looking out at the park. He wore his suit, his golden tie clip gleaming in the sunlight. 

“Shouldn’t you be in school today?” he asked. Cal snorted. 

“Sure, I’ll just go to the place they expect me to be,” he growled. Arthur shook his head. 

“You’re tearing your life apart for this tournament,” he said. 

“Once I win the tournament, it’ll be worth it,” Cal replied. He smiled wickedly. “Tell me it’ll be worth it!” 

“It’ll be worth it,” Arthur said after a pregnant pause. Cal chuckled. 

“Of course it will,” he said. “I’m a winner.” 

The park went dead quiet. Cal looked around, trying to find the source of the sudden stillness. He turned, seeing Alan and Houdini standing there. Alan smiled at him. 

“Hello there,” he said. Cal grit his teeth and cracked his knuckles. 

“What do you want?” he demanded. Alan grinned. 

“I’ve come to bargain,” he said. “Your genie for my Houdini.” 

“You want to trade?” Cal laughed. “Sorry, that's now how this works.” 

“Can't blame a guy for trying,” Alan said with a shrug. Houdini stepped into a fighting stance. Alan and Cal stared each other down, before Cal finally summoned a golden lamp. He picked it up and rubbed its polished surface. 

“If you want him so badly, I'll humor you,” he said as smoke began to billow out. The Genie rose from the smoke, the wind ruffling his beard. He stared intensely at Alan with his piercing eyes. 

“Guess I'd better earn him, then,” said Alan with a smile. 

— 

Flannigan and Flaherty watched over Grenda, who was watching the TV in the corner of her room. Marian sat in her chair, when the door opened. O’Hara leaned in and beckoned for Marian to follow him. She stood up and followed after the chief. As the two walked together, Marian looked up at her boss. He seemed more grave than usual. Finally, the two came to a stop. 

“I’m sorry,” O’Hara finally said. 

“For what?” 

“For a lot of things. I didn’t believe you.” 

“I don’t blame you for that.” 

“You don’t?” He looked at her incredulously. 

“I gave you the weirdest report you've ever had to read. I don't blame you for thinking I wasn't taking this seriously.” 

“Well, you proved me wrong. Good job, Woods.” 

*Thanks, chief,” Marian smiled. “What happens now?” 

“I guess it's up to Hunter, Iris, and Alan.”

God help us,” Marian said with a smile. O'Hara laughed. 

—

[Fight song: Escape the Fate - One for the Money]

The Genie conjured three balls; one of flame, one of ice, and one of lightning. He raised his hand and flung the elemental attacks at Houdini. The escape artist barely deflected the attacks with his coat, hitting the ground at a roll. Alan grit his teeth as he looked at his dwindling cards. The fight had just started, and Cal had him on the back foot. 

He pressed a card, and Houdini lunged at his opponent. He delivered a swift punch to the Genie's stomach. Then, he vanished in a flash of smoke. The Genie narrowed his eyes as he scanned the park for any sign of the illusionist.

“You can hide,” he said, rising into the air. “But you cannot run. Not from the Genie!” 

“Oh boy,” Alan watched the Genie levitate skyward. Storm clouds gathered as the Genie searched for signs of Houdini. Houdini appeared, slamming into the Genie and wrapping him in chains. The Genie seemed amused by the attempt to imprison him. He snapped his fingers, turning the chains into butterflies. They flew away as Houdini fell to the earth. Alan winced. This wasn't going well at all! It was time for Plan B. The dastardly djinn clapped his hands together as the storm clouds rolled above him. 

“I grant you death!” He declared, his booming voice echoing across the park. Houdini screamed as three bolts of lightning screeched down from the heavens, each cutting through him like a hot knife. He fell to the ground, dissolving into a shower of golden sparkles as Alan fell to his knees. 

Cal chuckled as he approached the defeated thief. He cracked his knuckles, his eyes lit with bloodlust. 

“Looks like your precious hero couldn't save you,” he taunted as he approached. “I bet you wish you'd stayed in your cell.” 

“So what?” Alan asked, a little louder than his normal speaking register. “You're going to kill me, like you killed the barista and the mayor's son? Like you tried to kill the orphan girl?” 

“You're not very subtle, are you?” Cal mused. “No wonder you got caught.” 

“I just want to be clear that you're going to murder me for my cards,” Alan said, enunciating each word clearly. 

“Oh, my god, yes!” Cal said with a snarl. “I'm going to kill you!”

“Just like you killed Chad.”

“And Rupert! And just like I'm going to kill Iris, Grenda, Marian, and especially Hunter!” Cal grabbed Alan's shirt collar, pulling him to his feet. He threw him to the ground, sending the thief rolling in the dirt. Alan tried to stand up, panting heavily. 

“You're a monster,” he spat. Cal grinned.

“I'm a winner,” he said. “Genie, finish him.” 

“No,” the Genie stubbornly said. He crossed his arms, looking around. Cal glared at his hero. 

“No? I'm giving you an order!” He demanded. 

“I cannot kill a player,” said the Genie. 

“I wish you'd kill him!” Cal cried. The Genie smirked. 

“You and what wishes?” 

“You rotten little-” he grit his teeth. “If you won't kill him, I'll summon someone who will!” 

“I've got what I needed,” Alan said with a smirk. He stood and dusted himself off. Then he snapped his fingers, catching the attention of Cal and his belligerent hero. Houdini appeared behind him, taking a deep bow. 

“No…” Cal said, his eyes going wide. 

“Get us out of here, Houdini,” Alan said. Houdini placed a hand on his player's back. Cal shook his head and screamed. 

“I killed you!” 

Houdini began to teleport himself and Alan to safety, but the Genie raised his hands. Houdini was suddenly wrapped in golden chains, pulling at his limbs and trying to separate him from Alan. The escape artist struggled against the chains, then glanced at the Genie. He turned his gaze toward Alan and smiled. 

“See you on the other side,” he said. 

“Houdini!” Alan cried, before he was wrapped in the fabric of reality like a warm, comforting blanket. He vanished just as the Genie snapped his fingers, immolating Houdini in searing flames. Cal approached the hero as he turned into golden dust for the last time. He couldn't help the hideous grin as he felt Houdini's deck appear on his belt, right beside Little Red’s. 

—

Flaherty started the car and leaned back in his seat. Flannigan sat beside him, staring at the road. O'Hara had sent them off on a mission, to investigate a reported disturbance at the park. Flaherty sighed softly. 

“Any theories?” He asked his partner as he pulled out of the hospital parking lot. Flannigan bit his lip thoughtfully. 

“Some kinda magic Genie…” he began, wracking his mind for the possibilities. “Got in a fight with an escape artist. A famous one, one of them big-time magicians.” 

“How do you come up with this stuff?” Flaherty asked with a smirk. The two came to a stop at a red light. 

“Creative writing was always my passion,” Flannigan said proudly. Flaherty laughed as the light turned green. In that moment, space seemed to tear open in front of them, and a human being bounced off their windshield. Flaherty hit the hazard lights and threw open the door. He looked at the street, where Alan Keyes lay. 

Flannigan joined his partner on the other side of the car. The pair stared down at the thief, in awe of their good fortune. 

“That's the guy what broke out of the Penn, isn't he?” Flannigan finally said. Flaherty nodded.

“Think he's dead?” He asked. Alan groaned in response. 

“Guess not. Better for us,” Flannigan said, pulling out his chunky folding phone. He dialed 911, calling an ambulance for the injured thief as Flaherty tended to his wound. The pair closed the street, working swiftly to secure the scene until the ambulance arrived. Boy, did they have a story for the chief. 

—

A few hours later, O'Hara sat across from Alan as the burglar lay bedridden. The criminal sipped on a juice box, laying back on his comfy pillow and giving a self-satisfied smile. Flaherty and Flannigan stood in the doorway, watching the scene with great interest. O'Hara sat up stiffly, clearing his throat. 

“What happened?” He asked, eyeing the burglar. Alan smacked his lips thoughtfully, chewing the scenery. How was it that in a room full of cops, the career criminal was the only one comfortable? 

“I was out for a walk at the park,” Alan began before the chief cut him off. 

“From the beginning,” he demanded. Alan smiled.

“I could tell you,” he said. “Or, I could tell my lawyer how you interrogated me without him present. I bet he'd be real interested in that, and how your boys hit me with their car.” 

“He came out of nowhere!” Flaherty protested. 

“I saw the whole thing!” Flannigan nodded in agreement. O'Hara glared at both of them. Then he looked back to Alan, who was enjoying his juice. 

“What do you want?” He growled. 

“I want what I've always wanted,” he said simply. “My freedom.” 

*That's not my call,” O'Hara said. 

“There's a murderer on the loose and you won't let one burglar slip away to catch him?” Alan scolded playfully. “Besides, if all goes according to plan, I won't ever be a thorn in your side again.” 

There was a heavy pause. Flaherty shuffled, and Flannigan cleared his throat. Finally, O'Hara relented. 

“Deal,” he said. “I want everything you've got, and everything you know about Heroes.” 

—

The college toilet flushed, and Iris stepped out of the stall. She joined Medusa at the row of neglected brushed steel sinks, flecked with spots of rust. She washed her hands and dried them on a paper towel. Then she leaned against the sink and let out a sigh. 

“What's on your mind?” Medusa asked softly. 

“I can't stop thinking about Bloody Mary. We know so little about her despite being so late in the tournament.” 

“I understand. It must be unsettling, not knowing if she’s an ally or an enemy.” 

“I can’t sleep at night. Just knowing that she could be anywhere, watching us…” Iris shuddered. 

“What do we do, then?” 

“We focus on finding her. If we can make an alliance with her Player, then we should. If not… We’ll have to deal with her.” 

“I’m at your disposal.” 

“Thanks, Medusa,” Iris smiled at her Hero. 

Alice was absolutely mesmerized by the sinks, watching a stream of water dance from the tap and disappear down the drain. She swayed slightly as she stared, unblinking and lost in her thoughts. 

“The water flows toward its goal, not knowing but ever pulled forward. It does not know its destination, it simply moves,” she observed. “We too, must flow toward the conclusion. The king of swords is coming. Are we ready to face him? Or will we vanish down the drain?” 

“No more cakes for Alice,” Iris chuckled. “They make her a little loopy.” 

“The spirit watches, ever watches. The looking glass is looking at you,” Alice said, looking at Iris. 

“Okay, I think we’re done here, girls,” Iris said. She called her heroes back to their decks and stepped out of the bathroom. As the door shut and the lights clicked off, the mirror cracked. 

Thanks for reading! This chapter took a little longer than I would have liked, but I met my deadline and now you get to enjoy it! As always, you can support my ko-fi at the link below:

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