Duality by Rowan Erlking (best books for 8th graders .TXT) 📖

if to apologize. It was clear he would leave them.

“Mr. Omoni has been unable to remove it,” Malkia said. “That’s why.” She then dug her fingernails into the paper to tear it off. Not a scrap removed.

“I’ll even let you try,” Jonis said, now pushing the cabinet out of the hate ward with a cocked grin. He only let the front half go out though.

The police chief took a distrustful step towards the cabinet. Then he gestured to two of his men to go instead.

Both police looked flustered, casting suspicious looks at Jonis’s smirking expression—yet they took out their knives and started to scrape at the paper also. It didn’t even cut the red color or ink, though the wood around it scratched.

“That’s enough,” Jonis said, pulling the cabinet back into the ward. “I don’t need Mr. Farren’s cabinet damaged more.”

“Mr. Farren?” the police chief murmured. “You said this was yours.”

With a nod, Jonis replied, “It is. Mr. Farren was my guardian when I was a boy. When he died, he left it to me.”

“You mean, when you killed him,” the police chief said.

Jonis growled before answering. “No. But he was killed, if you want to be exact. It is a risky venture to take in a ‘demon’, even for a magister.” He then stroked the front of the chest where the paper kept it sealed. He did it fondly, like he was still in mourning over his guardian’s death.

In the corner of Bernum’s eye, he noticed the Blue Lord and the warriess go into the hole. The wizard slipped in after them. Only the bird man stayed, and that was only for a second before he launched into the dark sky. His white wings reflected light only for a second before he vanished from sight.

“Well, open it,” one of the police said, “if it really is yours.”

Nodding to him, Jonis dug his fingernails into the crack along the cabinet door edges. The paper broke off in brittle pieces. Bernum started to wonder if it had more to do with the demon’s magic touch, but Jonis did not give any of them time to find out if that were so. He opened the cabinet, front side, and then reached inside.

Jonis’s white fingers wrapped around a ribbon-tied collection of documents, the top sheet marked a contract with the circus. He set it on top of the cabinet. Then he went back into the space as if searching for something in particular. He cursed under his breath then kicked the cabinet side.

“It’s not here!”

Bernum peered in. “What’s not?”

Jonis scowled as he pulled his head out. “My pistol. It was a six shooter piece with a mahogany handle, a gift from a good friend of mine. I specifically set it aside in case I ever had to leave the army.”

“Leave the army?” the police chief murmured. “Can a demon do that?”

Jonis closed the cabinet doors. “His High and Haughty Eminence Patriarch of Brein Amon can’t stop me. And I’ve had enough of him pushing me around.” 

He pulled open the drawers next. The paper seal just flaked apart.

Inside the drawers were scrolls upon scrolls of spells, each one wrapped differently, some with ribbon where others were covered in oilskin to preserve them. Bernum and Malkia both hungrily peered over them, their palms itching to hold just one. Jonis glanced at the pair once, his smirk returning. He picked a scroll up, cradling it in his arms, stacking on the next one then the next. He looked over each scroll, ignoring the growing murmurs the policemen were making as he unloaded the contents, setting aside a couple scrolls to the ground where Jonis had his pack. The Cordril swept aside the tails of the magician’s coat and tucked a few scrolls into the inner pockets. But most of them he kept in his one arm—until he suddenly turned and dumped them into Bernum’s.

“Here. I’ve studied all these already,” Jonis said. “You might find them interesting.”

“What’s in them?” Malkia reached out to take a few.

Bernum was glad as Jonis started to load up another armful until that drawer was entirely empty. The demon then pulled open the bottom drawer, shoving the top one closed. He emptied that drawer just as quickly. In the end, Jonis only claimed about eight scrolls, tucking each one carefully into his pack while emptying his pocket.

“Mostly herbal spells. The written and drawn spells were in the top cabinet in larger scrolls. Those I chased down to a magician’s school in Wendora City. They just gave them back to me, thankfully.” Jonis patted the last of the scrolls he passed on to them, peeking at the policemen who watched the surreal exchange with a mixture of horror and confusion. Most remained perplexed that all the demon was doing was talking while binding up the scrolls with a rope for easy carrying.

“Now, you two should go,” Jonis said, looking straight at Bernum.

Bernum blinked, pulling back only slightly. “What?”

Nodding to the police, Jonis said, “I don’t think they are going to just let you go…especially after what happened tonight.”

Malkia clenched Bernum’s arm, peering back at the police who cocked their guns as if to comply with Jonis’s premonition. “But what about you?” she said.

Chuckling painfully, Jonis sighed with another glance at the police.
“Let them come after me. I don’t care. I expected it, really.”

Blanching, Bernum shook his head. “No. We can’t just leave you like this. Not after using you to—”

“I used you too,” Jonis said, smirking in his boyish way. He yanked his broadsword out of the ground, gesturing with his chin up to the skies. “Now, go. I’ll give you some time to get out of here. Don’t go back to your apartment—just leave the city. Ok?”

Bernum was about to protest—but just then a swoop of heavy feathers brought the black and white birdman down on top of the chest where the demon picked up the circus’s documents then sprang down onto Malkia, whipping her off the ground in one enormous flap. She screamed once, kicking with her hands, swiping at the grip the bird man had on her.

“Go,” Jonis said again then shoved Bernum to the side out of the hate ward.

Bernum toppled into the grass, tumbling to the side where the circus performers had gone. The hole was no longer there, though.

Setting his thumb and forefingers together as a circle, Jonis murmured the words to the hate ward. Bernum heard the boom and saw the rippling whoosh of wind that blew over the grass around him in a concentric ring, but it fluttered past the magician-in-training as if nothing more than a faint breeze. The police flew back, crashing into the ground and each other in heaps on the road.

Jonis swiped up his travel pack. His shining blue eyes were on the policemen, his fist clenching his broadsword as if he would slaughter them all. Bernum almost staggered back to stop the demon. But just as he rose onto his feet again, the bird man unexpectedly swooped down on him and picked Bernum up too.

“Leave him be.” The bird man flapped hard, taking them high into the dark boughs of the tree overhead. They landed in the center of it where Bernum found Malkia clinging to a thick branch, her face ashy as she stared down in horror at the forty foot drop—or maybe just watching the demon she had summoned moving below.

Bernum looked down again. His eyes followed the progress of the straw-haired demon as Jonis walked through the toppled-over policemen much as one would walk through a pumpkin patch, taking care not to step on the sprawled crop. Jonis didn’t go fast, his head watching each man he passed carefully, though with a mind to stab anyone that moved. When he reached the edge of them, Jonis sheathed his long sword onto his back then strode down the road as if he had merely concluded a piece of business with the merchant.

The police rose with aches, pushing off the ground. They shouted after the white demon to stop.

Jonis broke into a jog, glancing back once then turning the walled corner where Bernum and he first met. Bernum could no longer see him from there. By then all the police sprang up. The braver ones charged after the demon, though the more terrified lingered in the gateway, peering back at Omoni’s house.

“All good. From here I take you to horse house. You leave city from there.” The birdman settled on a limb next to Bernum.

Turning with a worn look, Bernum was about to protest that all was not good, but a cry from the house interrupted him. The policemen that had remained behind ran to the house, jogging up the drive to the busted open doors. They hurried inside, exclaiming at the damage to both bodies and property, crying out to those that were either coming to or were still holed up and hiding from the white demon.

Bernum shuddered, sharing a look with Malkia.

“They’re going to blame me,” Bernum murmured.

She shook her head. “No. Not you. Me. I’m the witch wife. Remember?”

Bernum clenched his jaw, his muscles tightening along his back. He had not intended this kind of chaos. It was dangerous to trust a demon, he knew. But this kind of carnage was not what he had in mind when he had planned to rescue Malkia.

He peered down to the far wall then up at the birdman who watched him. “News will travel fast. I need money to hire a coach. I need my things.”

“Summon them,” Malkia said. She climbed down her limb to a more comfortable perch, clutching the branch as she lowered herself down. “Summon them when we get to the carriage house.”

Though Bernum nodded, he felt sick inside. The wails coming from Omoni’s house increased.

“Mr. Omoni is dead!” One of the police called out to another officer standing guard.

Bernum shared a look with Malkia who did not appear as alarmed as he did. She seemed to already know.

“You didn’t—?” he asked, but she shook her head. She gestured for him to listen.

“Did that demon eat him?” the one police man asked the other.

“No.” They could see the other man’s head turn to look back into the house. “It was someone else. He was stabbed with—”

“The witch wife!”

“No.” That officer sounded almost dismayed that it wasn’t. “His body was stabbed all over with Perri throwing knives. Perri assassins did this.”

“No! That’s a lie! Why would Perri assassins come all the way to Jonori to—?”

“The circus, moron!” The policeman shoved past the man on the porch and marched down the drive. “I knew two of those performers looked funny. I knew they had to be Perri assassins! I have to tell the chief.”

“But what about that magician and the witch wife?” the other policeman shouted after him.

Bernum and Malkia listened for his answer.

“It was one bad night for Mr. Omoni,” the other answered before going out. “Four problems pouncing on him at once. The magician was the least of his troubles. I knew Mr. Omoni shouldn’t have taken up that circus. It was fishy from the beginning!”

He tromped off.

Looking to the birdman, Bernum noticed his grin set confidently. The demon then nodded to them both then lifted off from the tree. He was gone for all of three minutes before he returned, though in that time Bernum and Malkia had heard enough of the police’s conversations to understand that the circus performers had done them a larger favor by coming to the manor house than they had initially realized. Besides saving Bernum’s life, they had set themselves as a decoy so both he and Malkia could get away. If they hadn’t come, the police would be chasing only them and Jonis. Escape would not have been possible at all. But because they had, the police force of Jonori was now scattered throughout the city, chasing shadows and one white demon.

The birdman carried Bernum out of the yard first, reassuring him that Malkia would be safe