The Adventures of the Junior Phoenixes, Part 1: The Pendant of Life

Chapter 1: A Late Night Stroll

     A soft wind blew through the trees lining the Harbor Walk along the Old Harbor of Boston Bay. The wind made the leaves whistle as it snaked among the trees; it created a strange whining sound that one could hear only if one was silent. The wind brought the temperature lower; the wind chill dropped the cold Boston air from forty-five degrees to a chilly thirty-eight degrees Fahrenheit. The Harbor Walk along the bay was quiet, with the exception of the waves that smacked against the concrete quays. There were no boats in the bay; only a large barge which was empty and headed out to sea. The Harbor Walk was lined by a solid metal railing just north of the Old Harbor Park, and the concrete barrier rose to keep people from falling into the bay. A small concrete amphitheater lay at the water's edge, the center of the grass lawns and pavement walkways that made up the Harbor Walk. Though the grass was kept relatively green, through much trampling and stomping much of the grass that lined the Harbor Walk was dead or dying. There were several green benches that sat along the walkways. The amphitheater at night was a popular spot for locals familiar with the area. At night the city skyline cut a swath into the horizon. The lights shone bright as their reflections twinkled on the waters of the bay. The cool nights in the late summer were ideal for tourists, thinkers, and lovers as they walked along the Old Harbor Walk and watched the Boston lights dance upon the waves. The waves rolled in tirelessly, making an ambient noise that never ceased.
      Hidden in the shadows of the trees stood two strange-looking men; one short and thin, the other taller and husky. Both men had an awkward demeanor to them. Though the Old Bay was empty, and only a few people walked the Harbor Walk, the two men appeared to avoid any eye contact or attention from passersby. They wore dark clothing, both wearing long jackets and brimmed hats that concealed much of their faces.
      A young couple walked up from Ocean View Drive and approached the amphitheater, close where the two men stood. The young couple held each other close, the young man with his arm around his lady friend's shoulders, and her hands around his waist, oblivious to anyone around them. As they neared the amphitheater and the open air, the short man stepped out of the shadows. He was thin, short, and had wiry eyes. He had black hair, a thin mustache, a cleft chin, and thick eyebrows. He had a cherry-finished walking stick in his left hand and seemed to walk with a gait, favoring his left leg. He stood in the path of the young couple, tightened his grip on the walking stick, and raised his right hand. The short man seemed to mutter a strange word under his breath, his gaze set upon the couple. The young couple became bewildered and paused. They stood still for a moment, then turned about and walked away, back in the direction of Ocean View Drive. The short man lowered his right hand, loosened his grip on his walking stick, and chuckled to himself.
      "Were they of any importance?" the taller man asked from the shadows.
      "Nah," the short man replied, "Just a couple of Norms out for a late night stroll. Nothing to get a twist over." He grinned a sly grin.
      The taller man walked into the evening light. He gave a slight chuckle. "Norms," he remarked, "Sometimes they can be about as smart as sheep and just as gullible." He removed his hat and popped his collar. His shabby brown hair was a mess, and his yellow teeth glowed, even in the evening light. He strolled towards the short man and looked around. "Let's hope we don't have any other unnecessary Norm interlopers walking around when we're trying to conduct business."
      "Can you blame them, Gorn?" the short man mockingly said to the taller man. "It is such a lovely night, perfect for dancing and lovebirds and kisses and hugs and sweet little twinkling eyes going gaga for one another!" The short man made smacking sounds and teased. "Oh, what a night for young lovers! Ha!"
      "You're ridiculous, Quaverly," the taller man, Gorn, replied, "Now pay attention and keep an eye out. Scorn should be here soon. He's already late. Keep your staff out and try to stay awake this time!"
      "Hey, last time we played Look-Out when Scorn was bringing in a shipment it was the zombie part of the bloody morning when nothing's alive or stirring! The sun wasn't even up and I hadn't had any sleep! We had spent all night and all that money at Putnam's Pub up in Salem, remember?" Quaverly asked.
      "Don't remind me!" Gorn retorted, "You got me into some stupid political argument with that old pencil-pusher from the Bureau right when I was about ready to make a move on that little blue-eyed pixie sitting near the bandstand! I was about to make my move on her and then you go and bollix the whole darn thing!"
      "Calm down! Like you were going to have a chance with that pretty little thing," Quaverly said with a grin.
      "Shut up and look," Gorn said demandingly, "There's the boat." He pointed to the harbor. A small boat appeared out in the Old Bay. It approached slowly. Two men were in the boat as it drew towards the amphitheater and the quays.
      "I'll go and greet our friends on the boat," Gorn spoke. "Do me a favor and keep an eye out. The last thing we need is an interruption. The cargo needs to be moved quickly. I don't like being out in the open like this."
      "Oh, relax," Quaverly said, "There's no one around. You worry too much."
Gorn grunted in disapproval. He approached the railing along the edge of the concrete quay and waved at the boat. The two men waved back in response. Quaverly stood toward the center of the amphitheater, looking to and fro. Gorn called to the men in the boat, who nodded back. They each grabbed a wooden stick of stick of their own and waved them strangely, an eerie glow from the ends of their sticks.
     Several large duffel bags that were on the boat began to float in midair. It was an eerie sight, if there had been any normal person's eyes watching the scene. The bags levitated and floated. They hovered toward Gorn on the concrete quay. He drew from the inner pocket of his coat what appeared to be a stick. He pointed his stick, which was simple and knobbed (though the thicker, bottom part of the stick seemed to be fashioned into a handle), at the duffel bags and appeared to help levitate them over the metal railing and onto dry land.
      "Everything okay?" Quaverly called to Gorn. "Are we good?"
      "We would be if you weren't shouting at me and paying attention to your duties!" Gorn snapped back at the short man. "Turn around, you idiot!"
      Another couple approached the amphitheater, this time from the northern section of the Harbor Walk.
      "They weren't there a second ago!" Quaverly muttered.
      The couple who approached appeared to be young adults. They were occasionally loud, laughing loudly, followed by some whispering in hushed tones. The young woman was taller than the man. She had fair, pale skin. Her long dark hair was tied in two braids. She had long, skinny, almost gangly arms. She stood a few inches over the man, tall and pretty. She wore a rainbow-colored blouse-shirt and stone-washed jeans. The young man was tall, though not as tall as his companion. He was handsome in the face, except for a scar over his left eye that ran from forehead to chin; a nasty scar. His jet black hair reflected the moonlight in a bluish hue. He was unshaven with a thin beard and mustache. He wore a black button down dress shirt and a long black wool coat and blue jeans. His skin was an olive tone, and he had his hands in the pockets of his coat. The two of them laughed as they walked towards the amphitheater arm in arm, the woman leaning towards the man on her left. They had a carefree appearance, so it seemed to Quaverly.
      "I'll take care of them. You just worry about getting the stuff off the boat," Quaverly said.
      "Alright, alright, just make it quick and hurry it along. We can still catch Happy Hour at the pub!" Gorn hollered back.
      Quaverly turned to the couple and walked towards them, his grip on his walking stick tight.
The couple kept laughing and talking to one another as Quaverly neared them.
      "Sorry, folks," Quaverly spoke to the couple, "This area is closed. If you'll just go back the way you came or keep on walking, that'd be fine."
      "Oh, really?" the young man asked. "We wanted to hang out near the rails over there."
      "Not tonight, folks," Quaverly said. He raised his right hand and waved them off. "You'll have to come back another night." He grinned again. He muttered something under his breath.
      "I'm sorry," the young man said, "I didn't hear that last part."
      Quaverly closed his eyes for a brief second.
      "Sir?" the young man asked.
      Suddenly, Quaverly opened his eyes and shouted, "Wait a minute!"
      "Crap!" the woman burst out. In the flashes of a few seconds, the couple moved quickly and almost in unison with one another. The woman leaped to the right. From behind her back she pulled out a stick, similar to the one Quaverly carried (though a bit more ornate) and raised it quickly. A jet of air blew out of her stick and smacked Quaverly. His walking staff was sent it flying from his hand in a parabola. It flew over his head and landed behind him.
      The young man leaped to his left, and from his coat pocket he drew out a stick of his own. He pointed it at Quaverly as he shouted, "They're Bureau!" A ball of air erupted from the young man's stick and hit Quaverly in the chest. The blow sent him reeling back, tumbling over. Quaverly clutched at his chest and landed in a fetal position, where he remained for a while.
      "Watch it, Jinx!" The young man hollered at his female companion. Gorn rushed over with his stick aimed at Jinx. He muttered strange words and bursts of red fire shot from his stick at her. She jumped behind one of the park benches and avoided getting singed. Gorn then aimed at the young man. The young man ran near an empty shack-like building at the corner of the amphitheater. He ducked behind the building as Gorn continued his defensive assault.
      "Take him out, Jinx!" the man shouted to his female companion, "I'll get the boat!"
      "Ain't gotta tell me twice!" The woman, Jinx, hid behind a tree as Gorn kept trying to hit them both with fiery bolts. "We'll go on three!" Jinx shouted. "Ready? THREE!" She jumped out and began to unleash a bevy of pulsing light blasts at Gorn. She ducked behind a tree.
      "Darn you, Jinx!" the man said. "That was NOT a three-count!" He ran toward the railing, where Gorn had gathered the duffel bags. Gorn tried to hit him as he ran. Gorn shouted obscenities as the young man dodged fiery bolts shot from Gorn's stick. Jinx jumped out from behind the tree and shouted at Gorn with her stick aimed at him. Whatever spell she cast hit his stick and it went flying toward the railing. Jinx waved her stick. A jet of yellow light from the wooden shaft hit Gorn in the face. It blinded him momentarily, just enough for the young man to run up and strike Gorn in the face. The blow knocked him unconscious. He fell back and slumped against the railing.
      The young man looked over the railing. He saw the boat men raise their staffs and shout strange words. As they did, fire bolts and jets of light streaked toward the railings. The young man raised his wand. He aimed not at the boat men, but at their cargo; the remaining two duffel bags in the boat. The bags lifted and they moved away from the boat. The boat men tried reaching for the sacks when they realized what happened. Jinx leaned over the railing and shouted out another strange word. The boat's front blew, and the boat men reeled back. The two men looked at one another, and as Jinx attempted to sink the boat, they leapt into the water and vanished.
      "Shoot!" Jinx shouted. "They jumped!" She walked over to the young man, who was using his stick to levitate the two sacks up to the railing and the concrete broad way.
      "Don't worry," the young man said, "We'll get them soon enough." The man kept concentration. He moved the duffel bags onto the concrete, next to four other bags that Gorn had already procured from the boat.
      "Helius Solara!" Jinx shouted, her stick pointed to the sky. A yellow jet of light, like a beam, shot forth and up from the tip of her stick. She then walked over to the young man and punched him in the arm.
      "Ouch, Jinx!" The young man grabbed his arm. He rubbed where he was struck as she gave him an angry look. "What was that for?"
      "You were supposed to handle the delivery men in the boat! I had Gorn and Quaverly handed!" Jinx said, half-way angry and half-way wanting to laugh.
      "I forgot. My bad," the man said, still rubbing his arm. "Dang, Jinx, that hurt!"
      "Well, next time, Shade, you'll remember to stick to your job," Jinx said, grinning. "You had one job, man. And if you ever hold my hand like that again, I'll make sure the next time you wanna get a drink after hours you'll be holding your mug with a cast and a splint to keep your broken hand together, I don't care if we're undercover or not: Don't go holding my hand like that again! That's just icky."
      Shade laughed. "Good God, Jinx, calm down. We had to look the part of a couple."
      "You'll look the part of a cripple next time," Jinx said. She hit him again in the arm before kneeling down and opening one of the duffel bags.
     "What do we got?" Shade asked his partner.
     "Aw, man," Jinx said, whistling, "We got some crazy hardware here."
     Something moved in the corner of Shade's vision. Shadows began to move towards the scene. Shade looked up, then chuckled. "Looks like the cavalry's arrived," he said. "They're not going to be too happy with us coming in, wands blazing and not waiting for Turan's signal."
      "She'll get over it," Jinx said, "She likes us."
      Out from the farther lawns several more men and women began to appear. Some appeared out of thin air, as if they instantly appeared right on the spot. Others came walking up from Ocean View Drive. Each of them wore the same type of long coat: A black long wool jacket with a badge over the left breast. The badge was a strange emblem: A four-parted shield with a Caduceus in the center, surrounded by thirteen hollow stars. Some of them had a stick, wand, or staff of their own. Others had necklaces with large crystals on them.
      "Well, if it isn't the walking stick and her pet cub," a chubby man said. His clothes were a mess in comparison with the other, tidier-looking men and women who approached with him. His breath smelled like whatever he had eaten last. His hair was shabby and his thin beard uneven in parts. He did not have a friendly manner about him. He nudged past others with little regard for politeness.
      "If you're looking for some chicken pot pie around here, Knight, you came a little too late," Shade said to the chubby man, "But I can recommend a few places if you want."
      "Though, by the looks of it," Jinx said, "Looks like you had a few already tonight."
      "Go suck an egg, you pair of losers," Knight grumbled. He snorted at them and walked away.
      A pair of people in more official clothing, a blonde woman and a dour-faced man, walked up. Both had metallic badges on (a silver one for the man, a gold one for the woman) of the same emblem on their jackets. "What happened, Shade?" the man asked. "We thought your instructions were to wait for the signal to engage the suspects."
      "We jumped the gun," Shade apologized. "We saw the opportunity and we engaged. It wasn't our intent to undermine the plan. We simply acted, ma'am. I take full responsibility."
The woman gave Shade a sideways glance.
      "I see Gorn and Quaverly over there," the man remarked, "What about the boat men?"
      "They got away, Mr. Teller," Jinx said. She gave Shade a nasty look.
      "Quaverly and Gorn," the blonde woman said, her accent almost British when she spoke, "The usual goon-for-hire riff-raff. Who were the other two in the boat? Was one of them Mr. Scrapluk?"
      Shade walked over and picked up Gorn's stick. He handed it to the blonde woman. "I can't confirm that, Ms. Turan. I didn't get a good enough look."
      Teller looked over the railing, where a few of the others were descending and checking out the remains of the boat. "Do we think Scorn was one of the men on the boat?"
      Jinx looked to Shade.
      "No," Shade answered. "My guess is he wasn't here. But I bet he was nearby. Scorn Scrpaluk would want to keep an eye on his merchandise. That's what I would do."
      Teller opened the bag and pulled out the contents. To his surprise, there were all sorts of weapons inside: Swords, axes, daggers, and other metal-bladed objects. "These are not replicas," Teller said, "These are the real deal. These are hand-forged. They're sharp, too; sharpened and melee-readied. This is an unusual haul for someone like Scrapluk."
      "What was in the shipment Knight and Chimera intercepted?" Jinx asked.
      "Morphing Pills," Teller replied. "This, though... This is someone else entirely."
      Shade checked the other bags. "Looks like more weapons in the other bags."
     Ms. Turan chuckled to herself. "For a two-bit thug, Scorn Scrapluk is either smarter than we anticipated," she said, "Or he's the biggest collector of medieval-era weapons and we just happened to muddle his plans on creating a medieval cosplay event. He's resourceful, to his credit. I must say: this is an interesting line of work for someone who usually peddles illegal wares and designer drugs out of the back of vans; quite an escalation from drug dealer to weapons smuggler. Too bad we still have nothing to directly connect him to this or the other shipment that Knight and Chimera picked up last week. We need to connect the dots, people."
      "Oh, give me a little time with Gorn and Quaverly," Jinx mumbled, "I'll crack those eggheads and get them to spill all their secrets."
      Teller stood up quickly, holding an old mason jar full of what appeared to be colored beans. "What the heck are these?"
      Jinx walked over and took the jar. "The same stuff that Knight and Chris Chimera found last week," she said. She tossed the jar to Shade. He caught it, opened the lid, and inspected its contents.
      "Morphing Pills," Shade said. "Master Wolf at the school suspects Scorn's been selling these pills in Salem and Beverly. These little things are potent. Normally, they turn you into an animal for about an hour; something you would expect a kid or two to want to try if they get their hands on them. Scorn, or whoever is making these latest batches, has been messing with the dosages in the pills. Some of the people taking them are staying animals longer than they're supposed to. Been hard for the Healers to return the victims to normal."
      "You mean the young victims taking them," Keleigh Turan corrected him. "He's been selling these pills to kids, am I right?"
      Jinx and Shade nodded. They both knew that Scorn had been selling the pills to students who attended the Salem Academy of Magic. It was why there was such a high priority on the pursuit of Scorn Scrapluk. The school was a very prominent part of the Wizarding community in New England.
      Ms. Turan held one of the mason jars in her hands, then put it back into one of the duffel bags. "Personally, I'd hate to see more of these pills get out there. God forbid I come home from work one day and here that my daughter was tricked into taking one of these pills and has turned into a rhino and there's no way to reverse it."
      Teller stood up. Some more officials arrived on the scene. "Ms. Turan," Teller said to her,      "Exarch Malone and the Prime Magus are here."
      "I'll leave this to you all," Ms. Turan said. "Procurator Teller, please make sure we maintain the primary presence here. This is our investigation, not the Prime Magus'."
      Teller looked at her, then over to the approaching officials. "What about Malone?"
      "We are working together, Mared and I," Turan said quietly, "Only he doesn't know that."
      "Yes, ma'am," Teller replied. Ms. Turan turned and began to walk away.
      Shade followed her. "Excuse me, ma'am, but I was wondering: Is that why you are worried about these getting out onto the streets?" he asked in a hush tone? "Are you worried that your daughter might take some of these pills?"
      "Not really," Ms. Turan replied. "Echo isn't one to do something so stupid. She's more of a lone tiger. But I don't want her to be around some foolhardy fellow student who decides to go to gym class as an orangutan, or one of her classmates tearing up the school or the town and Echo getting caught in the melee. Any parent would be worried like I am."
      "Is she excited about the upcoming school year?" Shade asked. "Salem is always bustling about this time of year. Echo's going to be a senior, right? I remember my senior year."
      "She's as excited as she normally is, which isn't all that much, to be honest," Keleigh replied. She kept her gaze forward and did not turn to look at Shade. "My personal life is what it is, Mr. Richards. I thank you for your concern, but perhaps you should focus on the task ahead. I want to know where Scorn is getting these pills and weapons, and especially what he planned to do with them. Focus on that. We'll discuss my family life later."
      The pair of them stopped in front of the other two official people. One of them wore the same kind of badge as Ms. Turan, only where Turan's said "Salem" on it, Mared Malone's badge read, "Boston". The other person, a man in all black, a long coat, thin, dark hair, and dark eyes, scowled.
      "Exarch Malone," Ms. Turan said.
      "Exarch Turan," Ms. Malone replied with a smile.
      "It appears the combined efforts of two veteran Exarchs and their seasoned staff cannot hinder or contain the wiles of a street thug-turned-smuggler," the dark-haired man said condescendingly to Malone and Turan. He scowled. "Perhaps this assignment is too big for your combined departments to handle."
      Shade spoke up. "We'll find him. You have my word. We'll find Scorn."
      Keleigh Turan smiled a half-smile, as did Mared Malone; they both seemed embarrassed for him.
     The other man scoffed. "Rookie, I take it," He said of Shade, "Isn't this the one Master Wolf said was one of his best former students? Perhaps etiquette is lost on the training done at the Salem school. You should learn when it is your turn to speak, when to let your superiors speak, and certainly, when not to make promises you cannot deliver."
      Shade stood embarrassed for a moment.
      "You may go now," the man said. "The adults are going to speak now." The three officials walked away. Shade felt sheepish; he was flabbergasted and in a daze as Jinx walked up and hit Shade in the arm again.
      "Ow! What did I do now?" Shade asked. Jinx had hit him in the same spot.
      "Nothing. Just wanted to get you back down to Earth from wherever your mind floated up to. Help me with this junk," she said.
      Shade and Jinx walked up to the duffel bags. Men and women were bustling everywhere. They checked on the whole scene and brought the boat ashore. As the duffel bags lay on the ground, Teller continued to inspect the weapons.
      "What was Scorn going to do with this hardware?" Teller asked partially to himself.
      "That's what's Ms. Turan was wondering; so was I," Shade pondered aloud. "We kinda know what he's doing with the pills. But these are high-quality weapons, and none of them are replicas."
      "There's more to these weapons," Teller said, "I mean, physically, there's something about the properties of these weapons that I can't figure it out. At least, not here. I'll know more when we get them to the Hall. Something about these weapons makes me feel like there's more than meets the eye, you know?"
      "You sure Scorn's not just pawning them out?" Jinx asked.
     "You don't bring in ten of the same kind of sword to just pawn them for money," Shade said.    "That would be a good scam, but then why go through all this trouble just for a scam?"
      "If he's not selling these for a bunch of money," Jinx offered, "Then we can assume someone's paying ol' ugly-face's bills; this is a big job for Scorny to take up. That would mean he's not running his usual schemes, so he's must be making some coin doing this smuggling job, and someone has to be providing the coin. I mean, he's not even smart enough to be coordinating this kind of operation. He's as dumb as rocks, man."
      "That means whoever's paying his bills has enough cash to bankroll this kind of weaponry," Teller said. "Too bad Scorn's not around to tell us."
      "Then we'll just have to find out who's paying Gorn and Quaverly here," Jinx smirked. "Odds are it's the same person. Give me ten minutes with those two trolls there and I'll make them sing like sirens."
      "You'll get your chance, Jinxie," Shade said. "First, we need to finish up here and write up our reports. Then you can go play with the trolls."
      "You do the reports, Shade," Jinx replied, "You do the boring work. I handle the fun stuff."
      "But that's not fair to - OUCH!" Shade didn't finish. Jinx hit him in the arm again. "Alright, fine, I'll finish the reports! Knock it off! You keep hitting me in the same spot!"
Teller grunted. Jinx smiled a Cheshire smile. "I knew you'd see things my way," she said as she walked away.
      "She can be scary," Teller mentioned.
      "You have no idea, my friend," Shade said as he helped Teller with the inspection of the weapons. "You have no idea."