Wizards and Thieves - Chapter Three
Chapter three: Magic Stuff Happens and Neal Stares at It.
Neal rubbed his head as Peter shooed the people out of the tower room. "Did I hit my head or something? I mean, I thought that I got away just fine when we took Finkle down, but maybe I really did get hurt? Or are you actually participating in Mozzie's game?"
"What are you talking about?" Peter asked. "You know, for a chosen one, you are rather odd. Normally this is the part where people will start babbling on about being in my presence."
"I thought that we’ve been through this already," Neal said. "I've really changed and I mean it. I wish you wouldn't suspect me all of the time."
"I don’t know you, so when I hear that you are the latest person that the High priest has sent to stop me, of course I am going to suspect you," Peter said. "I've made it this far by taking care of pests like you."
"Are you upset about the teasing?" Neal asked. "Because I said I was sorry." Neal searched peter's face, hoping for one sign that Peter recognized him. HIs stomach sank as he could see no traces in Peter's face and not even Peter was that good at acting. In fact, Peter was rather mediocre when it came to acting, putting just a bit too much of himself into it. Neal was sure that if Peter was really pretending, then it would show up somehow on his face. At the very least there would be amusement hidden somewhere on Peter’s face.
“I have no clue what you are talking about,” Lord Petros said. He chuckled. “Is that your way of getting my guard down?”
“No,” Neal almost exclaimed. He sighed, raking his hand through his hair. “Look, don’t you recognize me?”
“You fit the description of the chosen one and you were at the center of the magical backlash, but no, I do not recognize you,” Peter said.
Neal frowned. “Why do you keep saying magical backlash? Is that some sort of codeword or something like that?”
“Not much of a chosen one if you don't know magic,” Peter said. He gave Neal a considering look. “Very well, I will show you.”
Peter went over to the center of the tower room, where there was a pedestal. He tossed some items into a bowl and spoke a weird language. Magic stuff happened and Neal stared at it. Was it an optical illusion? But no, whatever that magic was, it was too real to be anything but real.
“So let me get this straight,” Neal said. “You are not Peter Burke and magic is real.”
“I am Lord Petros and I own this town,” the man wearing Peter’s face said. “The high priests have labeled me as a bad guy and they keep trying to raise people to kill me.”
“Why do they think that you’re evil?” Neal asked. He still wasn't counting the idea of all of this being some sort of a prank out.
“It’s probably the zombies.” Petros moved back over to the window and looked out. “They seem to think that zombies are perverse or something like that.”
“I never thought that zombies were good things,” Neal said. He then paused and reflected. “Zombies, really?”
"It's cheap labor and I only accept those who don't mind to live on," Petros said. He shrugged. "Honestly, that's nothing compared to what the high priests of that so called religions do."
"What do they do?" Neal asked. His justice side of him was pricking to attention; this sounded way more suspicious than even a Peter who raised zombies. If Petros was anything like Peter, he really did treat his zombies right.
"I haven't been able to pin down a lot of what they do, he keeps sniffing out my men and then he's been sending all of these chosen ones after me," Petros said. "And they've been getting worse each time. I think he's only a step or two away from an actual assassin."
"And you think that I am one of these chosen ones?" Neal asked, raising his eyebrow. He hummed to himself. If there was a man who looked like Peter, than there may just be a man who looked like Neal who was this chosen one. And if his counterpart was anything like Neal himself, Petros was right.
"All reports point to you," Petros said. "And then there is the staff."
"The staff?" Neal asked. He wracked his memory, but he couldn't recall any staff being near him when he woke up. "What staff?"
"The staff is what caused the magical backlash, though my men could not find the staff when we searched for it," Petros said. "And we have confirmations that your friend did not escape with it."
"Mozzie," Neal said. Then he corrected himself, the man who looked like Mozzie. In fact, this whole alternate reality thing explained Mozzie's odd actions quite well. "So, magic was what brought me here?"
Petros nailed him with a stare. "You really aren't from this world, are you? I thought that you were a bit odd, but I thought that you were suffering from the magical backlash, with a backlash that big you had to be suffering greatly, but I don't sense too much magical restudied on you."
"Residue?" Neal wrinkled his nose, that didn't sound too good. "No, I was on my way to meet with Mozzie after I got done with work and then it felt like a bolt of electricity hit me and the next thing I know, I wake up in this odd world."
"Hrm, two worlds," Petros said. He came forward and continued to inspect Neal. "We had suspected that the man was doing something big, but we had no idea that he was dabbling in alternate universes. And to drag in someone else. I assume that wasn't what he intended to do."
"If my counterpart, this chosen one, is anything like myself," Neal said. "He probably stole the high priest's staff, you said?"
"You're a thief?" Petros gave him Peter's penetrating quick glance.
"Alleged," Neal quipped the familiar quip. "And I'm reformed at the moment. Got an anklet to prove it."
Neal lifted his pant leg, showing off the tracking anklet. Both he and Petros frowned down at it. Petros because it was something odd, and Neal because none of the lights were lit up. "Fascinating," Petros said.
Neal felt a grin spread on his face. "Very."
Chapter Four