An Affair Of Sorcerers

'Fuck you!' A little chant of my own. It was beginning to sound as though Esobus, my hoped-for secret ally, were reading my epitaph, and that we were nearing the end of this particular ceremony. But if Esobus was concerned that I was going to start shouting out accusations that he was a closet goody-goody, he gave no indication of it. His voice droned on without interruption.

'Twist and tangle, never to rise up again. Your eyes grow dimmer, your limbs grow numb. The angel of death now draws near. . Wait!. . There is an intruder among us!'

The last was definitely not part of the ceremony, and I grimaced as I felt the points of eight blades dig into me.

Suddenly I heard a familiar voice chanting, the words echoing through the chamber.

'O pentacle of might, be thou fortress and defense for Robert Frederickson against all enemies, seen and unseen, in every magical way!'

On the flickering outer edges of the firelight I could just make out the figure of Madeline Jones standing at the railing of the catwalk, above and to the far left. Her arms were stretched out to either side, and her eyes were closed in fierce concentration.

The sweat on my body turned ice cold, and I almost stumbled. My head spun, and for a moment I thought I had to be hallucinating. But I wasn't the only one in a state of shock: Krowl's mouth drooped open in astonishment.

'Damn you, Madeline Jones!' Krowl shouted. 'This isn't your affair! Be gone from this place, or die! So mote it be! So mote it be!'

Madeline's voice came again, soft in contrast to Krowl's rasping shout, floating in the dry, heated air like a sonic feather.

'Four corners in this house for holy angels. Christ Jesus, be in our midst. God be in this place and keep us safe.'

There was a short silence; then Madeline continued: 'You know who I am, John Krowl. I am of the belief and the society. Robert Frederickson is under my protection. Let him go unharmed. So mote it be!'

Krowl had apparently tired of chants. The curious battle of sorcerers was over, and it was Technology Time: Krowl was reaching inside his robe for his gun.

But Madeline had given me what I most needed: distraction. Having overcome my initial shock at seeing Mad, I sucked in a deep breath as though I were diving underwater, then dropped to the floor. A knife tip slashed my shoulder, but that was all. I rolled backward through a pair of legs, at the same time kicking my toe up into their owner's groin. Then I got up and sprinted around the edge of the fire toward the place where I'd left the rope. With a little luck, it would still be there.

'Be careful, Mad!' I shouted as I ran. 'Krowl's got a gun! And watch out to your left! Esobus is up there somewhere!'

Three gunshots rang out, and the wooden beam over Madeline's head splintered. Mad ducked away, looked around in desperation, then started running-in the wrong direction.

'Not that way, Mad!' I yelled as I saw her racing toward Esobus' cubicle.

The rope was where I'd left it. I swung out and shinnied up it into the darkness. Krowl got off a shot at me, but the dancing firelight must have distorted his vision, because he didn't even come close. I was up the rope in world-record time; but it was too late to stop Madeline. As I clambered over the railing I heard a scream, then a body falling heavily to the floor.

Below, I heard the sound of feet racing in all directions. Although I hadn't been able to find any, I was certain there was at least one stairway leading up to the catwalk, and probably two or three. The coven members would be on us soon, and they'd be shooting.

I raced down the catwalk, expecting a figure to leap out at me from the darkness at any moment. But Esobus was gone. Madeline was crumpled into a heap on the narrow platform leading to Esobus' cubicle. For a moment I thought she was dead, but when I turned her over I could see that she was still breathing. However, what Esobus had done was almost as terrible for a beautiful woman like Madeline; a cross had been carved into her forehead. Blood was flowing freely from the crosshatch wound, covering Mad's face. She began to moan softly, her hands fluttering like wounded birds about her face, as though she feared to touch it.

'Oh God, Mad,' I said, lifting her head. 'You have to get up. They'll be here any minute.'

I quickly tore off my shirt and pressed it to her bleeding forehead. Madeline slowly raised her right hand and held the impromptu bandage in place. With my hand under her arm, she struggled to her feet. Directly in front of me was one of the corridors I hadn't explored; that would be where Esobus had gone. I started to lead Madeline back the way I'd come.

'Where are you going?' Madeline whispered in a hoarse, cracking voice.

'We can get down to an alley. It's the way I came in.'

Mad shook her head, moaned with pain. My shirt was already stained crimson with her blood. 'Better … to go. . my way.'

'You can't see, and I don't know how you came in.'

Running footsteps echoed throughout the factory. The acoustics of the building made it impossible to tell who was where, but the hollow, popping sounds were definitely coming closer, converging on us.

'Where … I was standing,' Mad whispered. 'Corridor leads to. . window. Fire escape.'

There was no time to argue; one or two men had undoubtedly covered the doorway leading to the alley. 'I won't ask you if you can run, Mad. You have to. They'll kill us if they find us.'

'I know,' she murmured. 'Go ahead. Just. . don't let go of my hand. Straight. . down the corridor.'

Gripping her wrist tightly, I raced back down the catwalk. Madeline, pressing my shirt to her wounded forehead with one hand and holding on to me with the other, staggered after me. I found the corridor, turned down it.

The part of the warehouse we were in consisted of abandoned, dust-filled offices. At the end, as Madeline had indicated, there was a black-painted window which was ajar. The lock on it had been broken, and a crowbar lay off to one side. I pushed the window open, then helped Madeline through the aperture and onto the metal grate outside. The fire-escape ladder, held aloft by a counterweight, led down into the small garden/patio behind Krowl's brownstone.

There was a wail of approaching sirens.

'Damned if that doesn't sound like the cavalry,' I said, taking Madeline's elbow and guiding her down the rusted steel steps. 'Our cup runneth over.'

'Garth,' she whispered in the same pain-filled voice.

'Good. He'll be able to get you to a hospital fast.'

We reached the bottom, and I looked up, involuntarily flinching as I half-expected to see the flash of a gun from the open window. But it looked as if we were home free. Wherever the coven members were searching for us, it wasn't in the corridor we'd come down. I started leading my rescuer toward a gate leading out to a side street.

Madeline held back, squeezing my hand hard. 'Can't let police. . see me, Mongo.'

'Why not? Garth knows about you.'

'. . Called anonymously,' Mad said, her voice barely audible behind a terrible curtain of pain and shock. 'Garth doesn't. . know I'm here. They'll have the coven. But if they. . find me here, I'll have … to testify in open court. It will ruin me, Mongo. You know that. I'll. . lose everything that means. . anything to me.'

'Krowl and the other members will tell the police.'

'No. They won't, Mongo. No matter what. . happens, they won't tell how you escaped. Occult. . business.'