Bishop & Rook

  Bishop & Rook

  A MAGIK: THE AVATAR WARS PREQUEL STORY

  BY ANTOINE HENDERSON

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  © 2017 Antoine Henderson

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  Contents

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

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  Chapter 1

  Game Boy

  The diner was winding down. Only a few people remained seated and finishing up their meals. The sun was setting, with a beautiful horizon breaking through the fingerprint smeared glass. Rook sat at a table with a cold cup of coffee in front of him, tapping his finger next to it while resting his chin on his hand. He scanned the room, not paying attention to anyone in particular, but gazing, analyzing the surrounding people.

  Husband and wife… college student… shifty guy in the corner staring at people creepily... it doesn’t help that I’m doing the same thing, but oh well… Idiot wearing stupid sunglasses wasting my time…

  A pair of bells rang, signaling the diner’s door being opened, and it grabbed Rooks attention. A large pale man stepped inside wearing a black hat and jacket with denim jeans and brown loafers. It wasn’t a particularly odd style of dressing in the neighborhood they were in, but he stood out. He clutched a small duffle bag tightly to his chest. Dark sunglasses hid his eyes as he scanned the room for several seconds before settling on who he was looking for.

  This must be him—he took long enough. Maybe I should use a spell to speed things up? Bad idea, Uncle Niles would kill me if he found out.

  The man’s gaze locked on another, sitting at a booth near the window across from Rook. He was the idiot wearing stupid sunglasses as Rook described him. He was tall and slender, wearing a black jacket with the hood concealing his face. The only thing visible was his stupid sunglasses, an abnormal design of gold-framed fossil-eyed reflectors. His gaze met with the large man standing in the doorway. He nodded, signaling for the man to come over. Lumbering his way to the booth, he struggled to slide into it and get a comfortable position. Rook’s tapping increased, watching, but unable hear their conversation.

  What is taking so long?

  They shook hands before the large man settled and the other reached into his pocket. He scanned the room once more, before he retrieved a small envelope and placed it on the table, sliding it across until it was in the other’s reach.

  It would be hilarious if he took the envelope and tried running away with it. That alone would have justified sitting here for two hours.

  The man grabbed the envelope and took a peak. Satisfied with its contents, he reached into the duffle bag he was carrying and removed a small box, placing it on the table with careful precision to avoiding damaging what was inside.

  You’ve got to be kidding? I can’t take it anymore!

  Rook stood from his seat, almost knocking over the coffee and walked to them. The two men were so focused on their transaction, they didn’t see his approach.

  “I’m tired of sitting here, Bishop—it’s been over two hours! Why are you two acting as if you’re trading state secrets? You’ve been talking for over a week about that stupid thing—I have better things I can do right now, like searching for my sister!”

  “Rook, what you doing?” asked the slender man with gritted teeth. “I didn’t want anyone to know—”

  “Know what, Bishop? That you’re buying a stupid video game?” Rook yelled, pointing at the box. “I should have listened to Uncle Niles—”

  “I needed you as backup—in case—”

  “In case what? Who cares about you two and your video games?” Rook questioned. He turned to the other patrons at the diner who were watching, wondering what the commotion was about. “Do any of you care that this guy is selling a stupid video game and that my idiot friend here is buying it?” The patrons raised their eyebrows and looked at each other with confused expressions before shaking their heads. “See—I didn’t think so. Nobody cares.”

  “Fine, you made your point! But I’m not an idiot!”

  “Can we go now? You’ve paid for it already, haven’t you?”

  “Fine—sorry about this Vintage Gamer Eighty-Eight,” said Bishop. He stood and shook the large man’s hand as Rook walked out of the diner in a huff.

  Rook was halfway down the street by the time Bishop could catch up to him. He was out of breath and grabbed Rooks arm to bring him to a stop. “Hey, what’s wrong with you?”

  “You’re not seriously asking me that right now. We waited in that diner for over two hours for you to make that deal, and for what a video game?”

  “Well, why didn’t you stay home if you’re going to cry about it?” Bishop asked, turning his nose up.

  “Stay home?” Rook questioned. “You’re the one that begged me to come!”

  “I’m sorry it took so long man, it’s just—you can’t just buy this thing in stores. It’s vintage!”

  “So what? You could have just come here yourself, Bishop.”

  “Like I said, I could have needed your help in there. He could have tried to kill me or something!”

  “You’re a warlock, Bishop. You can handle yourself,” Rook argued. He sighed and looked at him. Bishop collected enough oxygen to stand straight, holding the package close to his side. “Aren’t you The Great Illusionaire or whatever?”

  “Of course! But why risk exposing myself? Besides, with my power, I would turn that diner into rubble,” said Bishop, holding a confident grin.

  “Right,” said Rook. He rolled his eyes, turned and walked down the street. Bishop followed. “The Great Illusionaire? Ha! You couldn’t even land a single shot on my uncle—and he’s blind!”

  “Whatever,” he scoffed. “You laugh, but there’s something seriously messed up with your uncle—he’s like the anti-magic! No matter what I do, he evades it. I’ll get him one day, mark my words!”

  “Yeah, okay,” Rook mocked. He placed his hands in the back pockets of his jeans as he walked. He and Bishop were complete opposites, but were best friends. Bishop had the unique ability to get him angry, but there was an undeniable charm and wit that he possessed. Rook grew accustomed to Bishop and his odd shenanigans and even came to appreciate it… sometimes. Bishop had the ability to put his mind at ease, even when it was he who was causing him stress.

  “What’s so special about that game, anyway?” Rook asked, giving way to his intrigue.

  “I knew you’d want to know,” said Bishop with a smirk.

  “Just because I want to know, doesn’t mean I care. I only want to know what the hassle was all about.”

  “Okay, okay—check it out,” said Bishop. He held the box in front of Rook and opened it in a slow methodical pace—his eyes wide as he peered inside. “This is—”

  Before Bishop could reveal its contents, the box was no longer in his possession and a silhouette of a man
running away with it was gaining distance. It happened so fast that Bishop still had his hand in the position it was when holding it out.

  “Thief!” Bishop shouted before giving chase. “Let’s go R—”

  Bishop turned to see Rook standing still. His eyes were wide and his tan skin was turning red as he covered his mouth before bursting into laughter. Bishop watched, lowering his eyebrows and eyelids glaring at his friend. Rook could see the anger in his eyes, and that made it all the more funny to him.

  “I thought it would be funny if it happened, but I didn’t think it actually would,” said Rook, clutching his stomach, blurting out into laughter once more.

  “How can you find this funny? He’s getting away!” Bishop shouted before setting off after the man.

  “Oh my,” said Rook collecting himself. “And here I thought the large man was a thief and turns out it was the creepy guy in the corner.”

  The man disappeared down an alleyway with Bishop hot on his tail before Rook joined the pursuit. Waiting in the diner for those few hours became worth it in his eyes, it served him right for keeping him waiting. Bishop getting egg on his face was well worth the trouble.

  The thief was fast and well ahead of Bishop by the time Rook could catch up. He threw garbage cans and other debris from the alley in their path as they gained, slowing their pursuit. Rook knew Bishop wouldn’t stop until he caught the thief. Whatever that video game was, it meant a lot to him and was worth the chase, not knowing if he had the ability to cause them harm or not. His enjoyment slipped away as they turned another corner and the thief widened the distance.

  “Does he… not need… oxygen?” Bishop questioned, gasping for air as he ran.

  “We won’t catch him this way… he’s too fast! We have no choice!” said Rook.

  “Good, now I can get my damn game back!” said Bishop.

  Using his magical pressure to launch himself into the air, Bishop landed on a large garbage bin, closing the distance with the thief. Rook followed him on foot, his hands radiated a bright blue aura and he waved away debris the thief had thrown in his way. Garbage cans, broken fences and other debris shared the same aura as his hands as he threw them aside.

  Rook watched in the distance as Bishop leaped onto fire escapes and rooftops until he was in reach of the fleeing man. With one last jump from, he tackled him to the ground. They rolled on pavement with such force; the box the thief took from Bishop flew from his hand and smashed into a steel door of a building. The man rose to his feet and made a dash for the door. Before he could reach it, it swung open, bringing him to a stop as two large men exited from inside, their menacing features causing the man to stumble back and fall to the ground.

  “What the hell is this?” The taller man questioned.

  “Hey Mitch—,” said the shorter of the two before slapping his arm. “Isn’t that Zane?”

  Mitch analyzed the frightened man before him. “Yea, that’s him, Ronnie! Willard Zane—thought I’d never see your face around here again! The boss will get a kick out of this!”

  “Thief!” Bishop shouted coming around the corner in a huff, his fossil-eyed reflectors now hanging from his face. The hood of his jacket fell off back, exposing his shoulder-length black hair and green eyes. “Where the hell is it?”

  “Who in the hell are you?” asked Mitch. “You better get outta here before ya get hurt!

  Bishop walked to the thief, ignoring the Mitch’s threat as Rook arrived, catching his breath. “I asked you a damn question, where is it?”

  “Are you hard of hearing or something? I told you to get the hell out of here!” said Mitch. The tall man grabbed Bishops shoulder, causing Rook to gasp and take a step back.

  “Oh no,” Rook muttered his breath.

  Bishop’s attention stayed on the thief as he grabbed Ronnie’s large hand from his shoulder. With little effort, he twisted it, causing him to scream in pain, until a loud pop caused Rook to cringe and turned away from the sight of his arm hanging from his elbow. Mitch rushed to his aid when Bishop, alerted by his presence, spun on the heel of his boot and kicked the man square in the chest, sending him into a pile of trash cans. In the same motion, he flipped Mitch on his back by his broken arm causing the towering man to bellow out another scream. A look of horror took over the thief’s face. He stepped away with slow and cautious steps until a brick wall stopped him.

  “You, thief—what’s your name?”

  “W—Willard Zane.”

  “Hm, Willard, I will ask you one more time—answer me or you’ll end up like these two dipshits,” Rook demanded.

  “It’s just a game, Bishop,” Rook pleaded.

  “Where is it?” Bishop questioned ignoring Rook’s plea.

  “Its—”

  The sound of a bullet being chambered interrupted him. He turned and his gaze met with Ronnie’s who was now aiming a pistol at him. He’d recovered quickly after removing the trash can and its contents off of him.

  “Who’s the dipshit now? Get up Ronnie!” he shouted.

  “Having a gun doesn’t change the fact that you’re still and always will be, a dipshit,” Bishop prodded.

  “Bishop don’t antagonize—”

  “Enough!” Ronnie demanded, now pointing the gun between the two. “You got a smart mouth on you!”

  “He broke my arm dammit, Ronnie, kill him!”

  “I said get up!”

  Mitch struggled to his feet, clutching his arm and falling a few times before finding his footing and standing straight. With every move he winced and wined while Ronnie grinned at the three of them. Blood dripped from the corners of his mouth as he held his chest with a firm grip, gasping for air. He waited until Mitch could stand before pointing the gun at Rook again, waving him to join Bishop and Willard against a brick wall to the left of the door. Rook raised his hands and walked toward them.

  “Look what we’re in now and over a stupid game,” Rook whispered through gritted teeth,

  “We wouldn’t be in this if you hadn’t ruined the deal.”

  “You’re blaming me? You didn’t have to break his arm—”

  “SHUT UP! THE BOTH OF YOU!” Ronnie roared.

  “Ronnie—my—my arm! Just kill these punks, ya gotta get me to a hospital!”

  “Okay, just give me a moment and we’ll get ya there,” said Ronnie. His attention went to the man then back to the others. “I just need a second to think.”

  “You? Think? Now that’s funny!”

  “Bishop!” Rook shouted through gritted teeth.

  “I’m… seeing flashes, man,” said Mitch, pleading with his partner.

  “He looks like he needs help,” Bishop suggested. He spoke with calmness, but his eyes burned with malicious intent.

  “Shut up! You’re the one that did this—I tell ya what, I’ll call the boss. He’ll know what to do. When he hears about this, you’re dead!”

  Ronnie reached into the pocket of his jacket and pressed a button on his touchscreen phone and waited a moment before speaking. “Hey boss…. I know I’m not supposed to interrupt you when… No, I’m not stupid… No, but boss—please listen. I got two guys up here with Willard Zane… Yea, that’s right—the punk that owes you fifty large. He’s up here with two punks… Okay boss… Yes… I’ll stop being an idiot.” Ronnie touched the screen on his phone and placed it into his jacket pocket. He grinned before tightening the grip on his gun, cycling his aim between the three of them. “The boss is on his way, now you’re in for it punk!”

  “Sounds like it, idiot,” Bishop sneered.

  “SHUT UP!”

  Chapter 2

  Servitude

  Ronnie stood with the gun pointed at them for what seemed like several minutes. Rook’s attempt to communicate with Bishop went ignored as he focused on the gun pointing in his direction, no doubt running through scenarios of how to take it from him. Rook recognized this side of Bishop. Although, seeing him this way was rare, it was a c
ause for concern. The situation would become worse the longer they were there; he could see it in his eyes. The video game was irrelevant now, his focus remained on Ronnie.

  The steel door swung open, and a well-built man wearing a black suit exited, flanked by two larger men wearing black suits of their own. His piercing blue eyes studied them as he walked with great strides passed Mitch, ignoring the injured man as he passed him. He wore a black fedora cap over his blond hair. Various tattoos snaked that were around his arms and neck. The two larger men had long black hair and thick sideburns and black sunglasses covering their eyes. Their menacing faces caused Willard to shiver, while Rook and Bishop remained still, but alert.

  “See boss? Here they are—and there’s that thief Zane!”

  The large men took position behind him as he stopped next to Ronnie and turned toward them. “Well, look who it is: Willard Zane. I never expected to see you again after you stole fifty large from me,” said the blond man. “I suppose it’s true what they say: good things come to those who wait.”

  “Boss, he—”

  “Shut up, Ronnie! I’ll handle it from here,” he ordered, bringing an end to Ronnie’s statement. “And lower that pistol before you hurt yourself, you stupid fool. Why I keep you around is beyond me!” His gaze landed on Mitch, who was pale, sweating and quivering while trying not to move his arm.

  “Get Mitch out of here, pronto!”

  “Pronto?” Bishop remarked, whispering under his breath only to stop when Rook elbowed him without getting their attention.

  “Yes, boss!” replied Ronnie. He put the pistol in a holster that sat inside of his jacket.

  Ronnie walked to Mitch and carried him slowly to the door, trying not to hurt his injured comrade, but his efforts were in vain as Mitch cried out in pain with each step.

  “Oh hush, you big baby, we’re gonna get ya fixed up soon.”

  “I can’t help it… it hurts!”

  Everyone watched them until they disappeared through the door. Their concern was with Ian and his men who turned and put their focus on them, Rook in particular, who tried to avoid their gaze at every chance.