Magecraft (Magik: The Avatar Wars Book 1) Read online

  MAGECRAFT

  MAGIK: THE AVATAR WARS | BOOK 1

  BY ANTOINE HENDERSON

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  © 2017 Antoine Henderson

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  Dedicated to you, the reader and to all aspiring writers in the world…

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  Contents

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  Chapter 1 - Magik

  Chapter 2 - Oppertunity

  Chapter 3 - Rathbone Estate

  Chapter 4 - Jumportal

  Chapter 5 - Link

  Chapter 6 - The Avatar War

  Chapter 7 - Translantern

  Chapter 8 - The Bell Tower

  Chapter 9 - Flame Ceremony

  Chapter 10 - The Final Link

  Chapter 11- Mutual Hatred

  Chapter 12 - Nemesis

  Chapter 13 - The Violet Witch

  Chapter 14 - M.A.N.A Investigation

  Chapter 15 - Doubt

  Author Note

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  Chapter 1

  Magik

  Rook exhaled and opened his gray eyes. They instantly settled on his uncle Niles sitting in a chair across from him. He hovered his hands in front of Rook’s chest, moving them in a circular motion. They radiated a glowing white aura that encompassed the pain Rook felt emanating from his heart, gradually reducing it with each passing second.

  Niles wore dark blue jeans and a black turtleneck sweater that covered his dark skin. Black dreadlocks fell behind his back, tied together with a white band. Darkened square sunglasses covered his eyes and a white cane rested on his lap.

  “Is this still necessary?” Rook asked, before sighing. He rubbed his hands over his blue jeans. It was roughly an hour since he sat down, and grew more impatient by the second. “It’s been two weeks since I’ve had any pain, so I don’t know why I have to sit here for so long.”

  “Yes, it is,” Niles replied with a stern, yet understanding voice. “Stop whining, it’s for your benefit. If you didn’t hang around that vagabond Bishop all the time, you wouldn’t be dealing with this nearly as much,” he cautioned. “It’s the only way to keep the pain from returning. You didn’t use magic until you were nine, so this is what we have to do. It’ll be over in a few minutes, just deal with it.”

  Rook hated that he had to endure his uncle’s spell every couple of weeks. It made him think he had been cursed with a magical sickness. Not because of the pain it caused, but it reminded him of how weak he was.

  Born a full blood warlock—having a mother that was a witch and a father that was a warlock—Rook had the ability to use magic since birth. But didn’t learn until he was nine-years-old. During that period his magic became unstable and using it to lift even a simple cup from a countertop became impossible for him at one point. He didn’t prefer having to sit and endure his uncle’s spell, but it was necessary and saved him from losing control and harming others.

  “Finished?” Rook asked, anxious and ready to go.

  “Hold your horses, I’m almost done,” Niles responded. “Instead of complaining, you should thank me. The pain you’re feeling now is nothing compared to the pain Bishop will cause you. It was only a few weeks ago you told me he got you dragged into some business with a crime lord and nearly killed by werewolves. And trust me, that is not something you want, Marques. When will you get rid of him?”

  “You know I can’t do that Uncle Niles, he’s my friend. Besides, he’s helping me find Isabella.”

  Niles raised an eyebrow above the frame of his sunglasses. “You’re not still looking for her are you? I thought we decided it was best to let that go, Marques?”

  “I decided nothing; you decided that for me, Uncle… I’m surprised that you’ve given up,” Rook snapped.

  “No… it’s just… it’s been over ten years, Rook. She could be anywhere or she—”

  Rook snapped a gaze at his Uncle. “What? Say it.”

  “I just don’t want you wasting your life looking for her. You don’t want to wake up one day and realize your life has passed you by and you’ve achieved nothing and end up disappointed in yourself for not finding her. You don’t want to live a life of regret.”

  “Finding my sister is more important than everything… I won’t just give up because it looks hopeless,” said Rook, with hope in his eyes. “That’s a lesson you taught me.”

  Niles focused on Rook’s features for several moments before speaking. “I know I did… You’re my nephew and I want what’s best for you, is all.”

  “What’s best for me right now is your support.”

  “And you have it,” Niles replied.

  Rook saw his uncle was forcing a smile, he’d seen him do it enough to know the distinction, but he didn’t want to discuss it further.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Have at it,” said Rook.

  “How is that idiot going to help you find your sister when he can’t even keep track of his bedroom key? I’ve made him nine copies already!”

  Bishop and Rook stayed with Niles in a four bedroom apartment above of the Blue Moon Cafe. His uncle owned and operated the establishment since he retired and it was also where Bishop and Rook worked as cooks to pay for their room and board. It was his home since he was nine, and Bishop had the tendency to misplace the key to his bedroom every couple of weeks.

  Rook chuckled for a few seconds before collecting himself. “Bishop is a… interesting individual, I know… I also know he’s not the most pleasurable person to be around for you, but he’s my friend and is doing whatever he can to help me. He’s shown me things I would never have had the chance to see before.”

  “Like the barrel of a gun? You should have listened—I tried to warn you about him.”

  “That was only one time, and it hasn’t happened since. I’ve lived with you since I was nine, and you’ve never so much as taken me outside of Brooklyn.”

  “It’s been for your own protection, I can assure,” Niles explained. “There’s nothing out there but trouble, no matter where you go. It was best you stayed home.”

  “You’re right, there’s trouble everywhere, but I wouldn’t learn anything if I experienced nothing myself, Uncle,” Rook argued. “I’m nineteen now, and I shouldn’t have to ask to go anywhere. I should be able to go wherever I want when I want.”

  “And you can, Marques, as long as it’s around here. Trust me, you’ll understand one day. I’m only trying to do what’s best for you.”

  Niles’ hand stopped glowing before he leaned back in his chair and exhaled. “There, all done,” said Niles. He sat quiet for a moment before forcing another smile.

  Rook put his long-sleeved white shirt on before taking a moment to wave his hand through his short black hair. “Look, I know you want what’s best for me, but there will come a time when I will have to figure things out for myself.”

  Niles sighed before scratching his chin. “I know, but until that day comes, promise me you’ll stay out of trouble?”

  “I promise.”

  The bell to the cafe door jingled as it opened. Bishop walked through, looking around before settling on Rook. The café was sm
all compared to the chains around. Four booths sat in its center, surrounded by small tables and chairs. To the left were a wooden counter and a set of swinging double doors leading to the kitchen. In the far back was a door that led to the basement next to a set of stairs leading to the apartment above.

  Bishop walked toward Rook as Niles rose from the chair. A black leather coat covered his white jacket with its hood over his black hair shrouding his face. He wore blue jeans and black boots, Bishop strode passed Niles used his cane to guide him, tapping on the floor with every step.

  “Speak of the devil,” Niles moaned. “Bishop,” he greeted, forcing a smile and nod as he passed.

  “Oh hey, Niles—it is a great day outside, you should see the beautiful clouds and bright sun—oops, I’m sorry sir, I totally forgot!” said Bishop, before covering his mouth.

  “Bishop!” Rook shouted, widening his eyes and tilting his head.

  “It’s okay, Marques,” said Niles, continuing to walk to the counter. “Are you still upset you can’t beat a blind man at chess?”

  “You’re cheating somehow, old man,” Bishop argued. “I’ll figure out how to beat you, one of these days.”

  “For that to happen you’d need to possess the ability to use critical thinking and—oops I’m sorry about that. I totally forgot; you don’t have a brain.”

  Rook erupted in laughter before Bishop could retort. He patted Bishop on the back and slid into a booth. “I warned you not to mess with him!”

  “If he wasn’t blind, I’d—”

  “Not be able to land a single attack on him, like the fifty times before?”

  “It wasn’t fifty,” Bishop corrected, reluctant to join Rook in the booth. He stared at Niles while the older man tapped around the bar with a victorious grin cracking the corner of his mouth. “It was twenty-two and I’ll tell you this,” he leaned in closer to Rook and whispered. “There’s something wrong with your uncle… there’s no way I can’t touch him without some form of trick or something... he can see, I’m telling you!”

  “Just because I can’t see well doesn’t mean I can’t hear you, Bishop,” said Niles. He grabbed the cordless phone and disappeared through the swinging doorway leading to the kitchen.

  “See what I mean?” said Bishop.

  Rook smiled while shaking his head. Bishop and his uncle shared a love-hate relationship since they first met. They wouldn’t admit it, but they were similar in a lot of ways. Both were eccentric, sarcastic and had lots of knowledge about magic. Rook believed their hatred stemmed for their similarities. When they were around each other it reminded Niles of his past and Bishop of his future.

  “Here, check these out,” said Bishop.

  He reached into his jacket and revealed a stack of small rectangular black cards. He placed them in front of Rook.

  “Now, we’re legit.”

  Rook pulled them close and picked one up, reading it out loud.

  “Magik: We make magic happen… We’ll take on any job, magical or not… for more information call seven—Bishop!”

  “It sounds better than the Magic Duo… Aren’t they sweet?”

  “No!”

  “What do you mean no? I spent over twenty-five bucks on those and I’ve been handing them out all day!”

  “Uncle Niles will kill you when he sees these—you put the address of the cafe on them!”

  “I figured this could be our base of operations so to speak, besides, he shouldn’t mind, it’ll drum up business… and heaven knows he needs it instead of leeching off of us for free labor,”

  “We work for him so we can live here, idiot!” Rook snapped.

  “It’s done, Rook. I can’t change them,” said Bishop, before snatching the stack of cards away from Rook. “You should be happy with this; we can do a few jobs and save up some money to track down Isabella.”

  “I appreciate you wanting to help me find my sister, but this is wrong,” Rook argued. “And the last job we were on nearly got us both killed!”

  “But here we are! Alive and well,” said Bishop, dismissing Rook’s argument. “I thought you’d be excited about this, I really did. I see you’ve been spending too much time with your uncle and just want to sit around here all day, doing nothing.”

  “That’s exactly what you do! You haven’t left you room in over a week until this morning.”

  “Sorry man, once I play BioShock I can’t put it down,” said Bishop.

  Rook through his arms up, relenting as there was no getting through to Bishop. He’d been in this position before. Bishop had a knack for talking anyone into giving him what he wanted. It worked with everyone, including Niles, who Bishop begged for hours to allow him to live in the apartment above the cafe. Niles finally gave up and allowed him to stay on the condition he become an employee and work for him, but they both had different ideals for what work actually was.

  Bishops ideal work day including lounging around the cafe, watching videos on the Internet or playing video games. Any time Niles questioned him about his work ethic or lack thereof, he had clever excuses—what he called reasons—for it. Initially, Niles would think he’s full of it, but the more he talked the more he became convinced of his reasons. Or he grew tired of arguing with them and gave up.

  “Fine, but the moment it gets bad, we’re done!”

  “I knew you’d come around, Rooky!”

  Rook glared at Bishop, tightening his features. “Bishop… never call me that again.”

  “Okay,” said Bishop raising his hands and leaning back. “I’m only kidding, sheesh.”

  Rook’s attention went back to the card before his face loosened up. He read the card several times before grabbing the stack back from Bishop and reading them one by one. He threw them aside after reading them. His eyes widened and his eyebrows lowered as he continued.

  “Rook? What’s wrong?”

  “… You realize you spelled magic wrong? It ends with a c, not a k.”

  Bishop grabbed a card from the table, glancing over it before tossing it back in the pile. “No, I spelled it correctly.”

  “Yes, you spelled it correctly in the tagline, we make magic happen, but you spelled the company name, Magik. That makes little sense.”

  “It makes perfect sense—you need to be thinking on a higher level here, Rook.”

  “Oh… I do?” Rook questioned. He placed the cards on the table and folded his arms. “Then tell me, Old Wise One, exactly what is this higher level of thinking I’m missing?”

  Bishop moved around in his seat before settling down. He placed his elbows on the table, locking his fingers in front of him. He cleared his throat while Rook sat and watched him, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

  “Only someone like myself, with a creative and artistic mind can use the same word twice and make it work. You and I, together we are Magik—with a k—and we make magic—with a c—happen. Spelling words differently is a sign of the times, Rook. You need to get out more.”

  Rook was silent for several seconds as he scratched his head and looked at the lamp above the table. His focus went back to Bishop, who smiled and nodded, confident in his explanation and his creativity.

  “Bishop, I’ve known you for almost two years and that may be the dumbest thing you have ever said… but what’s done is done right? We’re stuck with it!” Rook buried his face in his hands, sighing heavily.

  The swinging doors to the kitchen opened and young man wearing an apron holding a dish covered with a silver dome, stepped through. His hair was brown and skin was light. He had big blue eyes and smiled from-ear-to-ear as Niles exited the kitchen behind him and sat in a chair near the door.

  “Ah, Felix, there you are my young apprentice,” said Bishop. “I see you stopped at the facility for the visually impaired and brought him home, how thoughtful.”

  “Bishop!” Rook moaned while wiping his face slowly.

  “Welcome back! I was looking for you earlier,” said Felix. He walked to the table. “I wanted to show y
ou what I baked and don’t worry, I followed your recipe to the letter.”

  Felix removed the dome from the dish and revealed a pan of brownies, sliding it on the table.

  “My favorite!” said Bishop before reaching for a piece. “Did you put the extra treats in them before baking?”

  Rook snapped at attention. “You didn’t seriously teach him how—”

  “Relax, it’s only candy… It was a recipe I found on the Internet,” Bishop interrupted before biting into a brownie. He chewed for a few seconds then swallowed as Felix stood straight, awaiting his approval. “Good… tasty even… not as good as Marron’s, but you’re well on your way, Felix.”

  “Ah, thank Bishop, I appreciate that!”

  Rook turned to Niles while Bishop reached for another brownie. “Speaking of Marron, have you heard anything from her lately?”

  “Not since her letter a few weeks back,” Niles answered.

  “I hope everything is okay with her mother,” said Rook. “It’s unlike her to not call.”

  “I’m sure she’s fine. Her mother was doing better from her last letter, so it’s nothing to worry about.”

  Rook folded his arms and rested his chin on his hand. “You may be right, I’m sure we’ll get another letter from her sooner than later.”

  The cordless phone sitting on the counter rang, grabbing Niles’ attention. He felt the counter with his hand searching for it until he found it and raised it to his ear. “Hello… hello Jasper, I hope all things are well… good… take care, talk to you tomorrow.”

  Bishop sighed through his nose while chewing his brownie. “What is it with you and Jasper? Who is he anyway? Since the day I met you, every day, without fail, Jasper calls and you say the same thing: I hope all things are well. What’s with that?”

  “Frankly Bishop, it’s none of your business,” answered Niles.

  “It is if I have to hear it every day, you—”

  Rook tuned both his Uncle and Bishop out as he lowered his head and faced the table. The two ended up arguing if they spent longer than two minutes in a room together. Rook learned to tune them both out, but today was proving to be unsuccessful.