Jack Dragon's Summons
1
Jack Dragon smiled as he went into the last trick of his act. He used to juggle three swords, then throw them up where they would hover for a long time before returning to his hands. He changed the trick so that the three swords return as one long sword. His audience seemed to like the new addition. He already had minor alterations planned to add one at a time to keep his act fresh.
He flipped the three swords up out of sight of the audience on cue. He went to where he kept his bottled water, uncapped it, and sipped it calmly as he waited for the next cue. He returned to his spot and held up his hand. A long broadsword easily as tall as Jack fell into his hands. He swung it with a flourish before letting it flip to a point first landing in the special mat he used to protect the stage.
The curtain dropped as he bowed to the audience. He stepped out of sight, finishing off the bottle of water. He began to pack up his tricks as the magic club emptied. Wojohowitz would signal for last call in a moment, then shut down the bar and small kitchen.
The Magic Hat closed after Jack's last show of the night. It just took time to clear the capacity crowd from the large chamber in front of the stage.
Jack had just finished with his nightly chores when he heard a voice call his name. He thought at first his ears were playing tricks. He parted the stage curtain to look out at the auditorium. He was surprised to see a familiar face staring back at the raised platform.
Cora Keene stared up at the stage, shielding her eyes from the stage lights. She wore a light brown pants suit, and a small flower at her collar. She smiled as soon as she saw the magician.
Her companion looked doubtful at Mrs. Keene's side. She was gray, wore gray, and frowned as Jack walked to the edge of the stage. She seemed ready to leave despite Mrs. Keene's hand on her shoulder.
"Mr. Wojohowitz let us in so we can talk to you, Mr. Dragon," said Mrs. Keene. "This is Clara Bartlett. I think she has a problem that you can help her with, so I asked her to come down here with me to talk to you."
"It's a pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Keene," said Jack. "It has been a while since we last talked."
"It's Ms. Major now," said Mrs. Keene. "My divorce finalized while my husband was being sentenced."
"Sorry to hear that," said Jack.
Cora Major smiled slightly.
Mr. Keene had been behind a series of attempts on her life. His tries had allowed a spirit dog to manifest to warn her. That had brought her to Jack to find out what was going on. That had wound up in Mr. Keene being arrested for attempted murder, then for multiple murder when it was discovered previous wives had died in suspicious accidents.
"What can I do for you ladies?," Jack asked.
Wojohowitz stood in the door to the auditorium, holding up five fingers. It was a privilege to use the Magic Hat to interview clients, but the manager had his own life to live outside the club.
"Mrs. Bartlett is being haunted," said Ms. Major. "She has tried to have the place exorcized but the thing keeps returning."
"Another black dog?," Jack asked.
Ms. Major shook her head at the question. Her particular problem had faded away after her husband had been put on trial.
"I don't know what it is," said Mrs. Bartlett, her voice cracking under the strain of her problem. "I never see it, but things are moved around. I have lost my dogs and my husband's cat. He has moved into a hotel until something can be done."
2
Jack Dragon drove home in his van. His magic equipment had been locked in its racks as soon as he ended the meeting. Mrs. Bartlett's problem revolved in his brain as he tried to concentrate on the road.
There were plenty of things that could be haunting the Bartlett house. Some could be more dangerous than others.
He decided to look at the lay of the land before trying to come up with a solution. There could be more mundane explanations for what Mrs. Bartlett said she had experienced. Mrs. Bartlett could be lying about the whole thing as some sort of con job.
That had happened before.
Jack pulled into his driveway on a sigil he had engraved in the pale concrete. He turned off the engine and stepped out. A gesture activated the sigil in a tracing of light in the carved lines. The van sank into the ground in an instant. It would be checked and fueled in the limbo that Jack had created for it so that it would be ready for use when needed.
Jack headed for his front door. As soon as he had a bite to eat, he was going to get some sleep so he could look into the mystery with a fresh mind.
At least Mrs. Bartlett had promised to stay away until he had something to tell her one way, or the other.
3
Jack Dragon paused at the door of the Bartlett house the morning after his meeting with Mrs. Bartlett. It was a two story brick place with lawns like a golf course gone to seed. Windows circled the building in yellow frames.
It was the nicest place for a haunting that Jack had seen in a long time.
Jack covered his eyes with sunglasses. He wrote on the lenses as he took a deep breath. He hadn't asked for the key to the house, didn't need it. He wrote on outside of the two locks, pushed on the door with the palm of his hand.
Jack crossed the threshold, looking across the front of the house. The large front section had been divided into a den/living room, a music room housing a piano, and a small dining room. An assortment of small treasures and paintings decorated the walls, and wooden shelves. A wall blocked the front from the back of the house, a straight staircase led up in the center of things.
Jack decided to take a look at the rest of the bottom floor before looking around the second story. At least the ghost hadn't appeared yet.
Jack pushed open the door to the kitchen, looking around quickly. He was struck by a single pot on the stove. He checked it. Filmy water filled the utensil halfway to the top.
Jack dumped the water out in the steel sink. He placed the pot in the basin, noting that everything else seemed in place.
Time to check the upstairs.
Jack wandered back to the stairs, heading up to explore the second floor. His treated sunglasses had not showed him anything yet. Chasing wild geese might be what he was doing. He couldn't just brush things off, because of who he was, and what he did.
He checked each room from the front of the house to the back. Everything seemed in place, almost perfectly in place. Mrs. Bartlett, or her housekeeper, kept things looking brand new and never used.
Jack walked downstairs to the door. He took one last look around from the foyer before he took off the sunglasses. He carefully wiped the lenses with his fingers. He put the glasses in his jacket pocket as he locked the door behind him.
Maybe he needed to talk to Mrs. Bartlett again.
Jack walked over to where the blue MG he used for city driving was parked. He had Mrs. Bartlett's temporary address, and it wasn't too far as the crow flies. He cranked the engine with a gesture of his fingers.
So far her haunt only existed in her mind until he could secure some kind of proof. Maybe it had moved on to the next world, or the next life. That would make things perfect from his point of view.
Jack cruised through the morning traffic, thinking about the problem presented to him.
4
Jack parked his car in Ms. Major's driveway. He didn't want to give up after only one try. The thing could just be inactive in the day time. Perhaps Ms. Major could tell him about the Bartletts before he talked to the family himself.
The maid led him to the garden behind the house. He was impressed at the work Ms. Major had done since her divorce. Her husband had wanted her money to add to his own. Instead she had looted him with the help of her lawyer.
"What do you think about Mrs. Bartlett's problem?," Ms. Major asked, when she saw the magician observing the flowers.
"I didn't see anything unusual," Jack admitted. "I wanted to ask what you thought of her."
"She has the imagination of a brick," said Ms. Major. "Her husband is even worse. If they say something happened, then it did."
"I am going to talk to her again," said Jack. "Maybe she will be able to give me something more concrete to grab. Right now, the house seems clean of any intrusion."
5
The Bartletts had taken a set of rooms at the Guinevere Hotel within sight of the Church Hill clock. Jack parked in the garage under the building and took the elevator up to the rooms after checking with the desk. He straightened his jacket as he waited for the doors to open. He walked down the hall, looking for the right room number.
Mrs. Bartlett let Jack into the room. He looked around, taking in the makeshift work desk, cases placed next to the full closet, takeout from a taco place around the corner.
"I looked around your house this morning," Jack said. "I didn't see anything unusual. I was wondering if you could tell me about your problem in a little more detail."
Mrs. Bartlett sat on the bed, clenching her hands together. She closed her eyes, a tear appearing.
The first thing to happen were the strange noises. Then things began shift around the house when she wasn't looking. Pictures were vandalized in their frames. Then the stove had caught fire one day before she could begin cooking dinner. Even in lulls, the whole family had started having nightmares. Finally Mr. Bartlett had decided to move out until they could have something done to the house.
All the strange events happened at night. During the day, the house was quiet.
Jack nodded at the story, thinking.
6
Jack and Mrs. Bartlett returned to her house as the sun started going down. He had waited to talk to the rest of the family before asking her to accompany him. The excuse he gave was that he wanted to see the daily routine for himself as much as possible. A brief discussion had ensued but the magician had simply stated he needed to see things they were as much as possible.
Mrs. Bartlett let them in, cutting the lights on as she looked around. She relaxed as the house seemed empty and quiet.
"Show me what you do at this time of the day," Jack said. "I will be right here in case something happens."
Mrs. Bartlett nodded, draping her coat over the back of a chair. She rolled up her sleeves. She looked around, taking a deep breath. She walked to the kitchen, holding the door for Jack.
Jack stood in one corner as he watched Mrs. Bartlett prepare a fake dinner. He pulled his sunglasses on, tracing over the lens with a fingertip. He hoped this staging would draw out the mystery beast.
Something crashed in the living room. Jack held up his hand so Mrs. Bartlett wouldn't stop what she was doing. He went to her side, putting her hand on her shoulder. He didn't want her fear to put her in any more danger than she was just waiting for the thing in the living room to burst into the kitchen.
Jack waited, watching the door silently.
Something else dropped to the floor. It sounded a lot more fragile than the first solid thump. Crunching followed that.
Jack drew a playing card out of his pocket. He wrote on it as he placed it on the kitchen table. Hopefully it would provide a surprise for whatever was in the other room. He moved to stand between the door and Mrs. Bartlett.
This was a dangerous idea, but it seemed to have worked. The thing in the other room wanted to terrify Mrs. Bartlett, and only Mrs. Bartlett. Having her present had drawn it out but would it keep coming, or would it wait for Jack to leave first?
The dividing door swung open as Jack pulled another card from his pocket. He grimaced at the sight of it. He wrote on the card as invisible tentacles brushed pictures on the wall, hands scored the air with long claws. Rows and rows of jagged teeth clicked in series like the legs of crickets rubbing together. Black marbles glared at the stranger holding his hand up in front of it as it wanted to rub against its prey feeding it fear on the other side of the room.
Jack Dragon held up the card with the spell on it. The sigil lit in the symbol for wall. The letter word expanded across the kitchen in a solid obstruction for the invisible menace.
"I think where you are standing is close enough," Jack said.
"This is my place, human," said the thing, holes opening in its body to relay a language that could only be heard by those who knew what to listen for. "Where my reach extends is my territory. You can not command me."
"I beg to differ," Jack said. "I have the means to hold you at bay as long as I want. I could even send you back to your netherworld with the right word. I just want to know why you are haunting the Bartletts in the first place."
"That is not for you to know, or for me to tell you," said the fish mouths. "It is for me to eat my fill of her fear until I am ready to give birth."
Don't like the sound of that.
"I think we should discuss that," said Jack. "Mrs. Bartlett doesn't want to be used as food. She would prefer that you eat somewhere else. Do you have a problem with relocating to some other dwelling?"
"You have to be jesting," said the thing.
"Who are you talking to?," Mrs. Bartlett asked. The thing and Jack's wall was invisible to her. "What's going on?"
"I am negotiating with your house guest," Jack said. As long as it was talking, he might be able to persuade to go somewhere else. It was a slim chance, but he didn't like to battle with monsters unless he had to do it.
"Our bargaining is at an end," said the thing, tentacles flicking as its claws began to dig at Jack's wall. "You will allow me to feed, and I will allow you to practice your spells somewhere else. Defy me at your peril."
"Stay behind me, Mrs. Bartlett," Jack said, pulling another card from a pocket and writing on it. "This could be a little disconcerting."
The beast tore the wall down after securing its grip. Tentacles swept toward Jack. The female would suffer watching the mage being torn apart. Then he would have fun with her, as he ate up her emotions like candy.
Jack help up the card in his hand as invisible appendages wrapped around his body and legs. The symbol caught fire, burning the air around him with long strands of strange letters. The tentacles hurled away from him as the dancing sigils cut in the floor in a circle around his feet.
The thing changed its mind. Instead of pressing against the circle, it reached for Mrs. Bartlett. She was still in the open, and easily damaged.
Jack turned slightly, writing on Mrs. Bartlett's arm. The elongated limbs barely touched the woman before she vanished in a whirlpool at her feet. The tentacles crashed against the oven, rocking it back against the wall.
"Just you and me," Jack said. He had to lure it closer to the kitchen table to learn if his plan would work like he expected. If it disappeared, it might return only when it was sure he wasn't there to protect Mrs. Bartlett and her family. "Bring it on, coward."
The thing glared at the magician with its mismatched obsidian eyes. It looked for a weapon to use to get around the circle. The refrigerator would do.
The appliance floated away from its niche against the wall. Then it rocketed across the room, trailing its cord like a tail. The rectangular top missed Jack by inches as he jumped out of the way. He fell flat on the kitchen floor outside of his protective ward.
Jack jumped up as unseen ropes looped around an arm. He pulled on the grasping clutches, dragging the squirmy feelers to the edge of the table. The grip was already trying to pull him closer to his enemy's claws. Dragon gave one hard last tug to get on top of the table, rolling to the other side.
The thing pulled, its tremendous strength allowing it to pull the magician and table both to it. It would rip the meddler's arms off and use him to decorate the walls for Mrs. Bartlett to find when, if, she returned. More and more of its writhing tentacles wrapped around Jack as it yanked him and his flimsy shield forward around the outside of the still active circle on the floor.
"What do you have to say for yourself now, human?," it asked with a flexing of the round holes it called a mouth.
"Goodbye," Jack said.
The card he had prepared earlier had remained on the table top despite the jostling it had taken. The symbol lit up in a small vortex. A black talon stretched from that weird opening, hooking around the tentacles stretched over the furniture. It squeezed and yanked at the same time. The limbs followed it back in the whirlpool as Jack fell to the floor away from the effect. In seconds, the thing had followed its captured appendages.
"I hope you like being someone else's plaything," Jack said, massaging the arm that had been pulled on the most by his vanished foe.
Epilogue
Jack Dragon usually ended his act with a juggling of three swords in the air. He decided that he would wind up his act with the floating fog trick since he had hurt his arm. That was mainly standing on top of a low fog bank, bowing as the stage lights slowly went out one by one.
Jack stored away his equipment as the audience finished clapping and emptied out of the magic club. Wojohowitz was going to give him a break until his arm healed from dealing with Mrs. Bartlett's guest.
Cora Major waited for Jack at a table just in front of the stage. She sipped at a glass of club soda, smiling at the magician as he took one last look at the auditorium before going home.
"Clara wanted me to thank you," Cora said. "She doesn't remember what happened, but she knows that you did something. The house feels completely different to them now."
"No problem," said Jack. "If they need anything else, I will be glad to look into it for them."