Dracula Hearts of Fire Book two of Dracula Hearts
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

IN THE BOREAL FOREST, there were demon voices in the wind.

Achak exited the wigwam with the large Blood Book under his arm. He placed it on the small antique table and flicked through the pages. The roaring fire behind him warmed his back, cracking and snapping with oxygen consumption. It was a pleasant enough morning, but he had had a restless night as shadowy figures danced in his dreams, bothering him every hour or so. His eyes were tired from lack of sleep, but he had excitement in his heart; he couldn’t wait to get back at it.

The voices encircled him. Several whispers passed one ear and then the other, quiet words of encouragement. One had approached so near it felt as if it had lingered near his eardrum, and he swatted at it. They cut through the air like embers.

The sorcerer performed his own Ghost Dance around the fire, chanting in his deep tone. It was preparations for the spell to be unleashed by and into the flames. His voice climbed into the blaze and shimmied into the light of the fire, dancing inside its energy; he repeatedly threw his voice into the fire. A flame leaped a dozen feet above the fire and fell back into it. His voice was smooth yet overemotional as he connected to some of the spirit souls. They wanted out into the physical world so much that some cried. Achak’s vision blurred, but that didn’t stop him.

“Ya ta heyyyyy Ohoooooooooo.”

The fire burned from more than a dozen spelled logs and was twice as tall as Achak. It snapped and popped as it sent out awful smells of burnt flesh. The smell was so strong that he could detect its salty taste. The yellow, blue, and gold flame had a life of its own, containing malevolent spirits hoping for their opportunity to flee. Skulls were floating in the fire as they tried to escape but could not. A single torso was burning near the very top of the fire. The wizard saw and observed several hearts of fire; he was transfixed by the sounds of those beating hearts for a time as they synchronized with his own heart. It felt as though his chest was on fire from the inside, intimately connected to the enchantment.

Being a wizard was a tricky business. The magic could turn on him without good protection spells, but sometimes the error was in knowing how much protection was enough. It involved supernatural substances that no one fully understood, and even the so-called experts had holes in their knowledge that one could run a freight train through. Playing with the unknown was not for those with weak spirits. It was trial and error, and the experience of both was what shaped a wizard. The Blood Book called to him like a naked lady in the night. It was a massive tome with such a high level of magic that wizards felt its pull from miles away. Achak picked up his black coffee and downed the remainder of it.

Achak stood turning pages in the book. He needed to get back to the same spell he had been perusing last night, and typically it wasn’t a problem as the book usually started with the last thing viewed.

The Blood Book attached to Achak was now only showing him evil spells. He had increased his negative energy to such a degree that he had caught the attention of evil ghosts. Those evil spirits were stretching from one dimension to another. They played with his mind and clawed at his soul with razor-sharp talons, and one threw a ball of fire out of the flames. When it burst at his feet, the spirit was satisfied it interacted with the outside world. It hoped for its release and the taste of fresh blood. The crackling fire sounded soothing to the wizard as the sound of rain on a tent.

A Yellow-bellied Sapsucker was pulled out of the sky and into the flames. Feathers then flew out of the blaze, burning up as they hit the ground. The woodpecker’s fate was sealed. The life energy contained within the bird was now in the fire. The flames appeared to produce a happier crackle, a state of excitement.

Achak stared at his wigwam and got lost in his thoughts. A man is built upon his actions and not on his thoughts; the poor do not feed on good intentions or well wishes. His soul cried inward for a change in direction, but he couldn’t hear it, and when it attempted to get his attention in his dreams, he couldn’t see it. His conscious continued to argue with him but was summarily dismissed; there was no time for that anymore. His once white soul was darkened by his deeds, filled with so much caustic smoke, dark and dreary. It choked the nature out of what it once was. He had freely chosen his path and was mired in it. It would not release him without an epic fight.

“Here we go.” Achak had come upon the page surrounded by dimensional red skulls; they spun slowly and occasionally halted their rotation as if to stare at him. There were nine skulls in all. It was the highest number he had seen on a page, and therefore assumed it was one of the most dangerous spells in the book. The words on the page changed as they morphed; it read, THE ENTITY RELEASED WITH THIS SPELL WILL SEEK OUT LEVELS OF ENERGY TO INCREASE YOUR ABILITIES NINE FOLD.

“That’s exactly what I need.”

Achak couldn’t fool himself any longer; this magic was as the earth would be without the sun. No light would escape from it. All the good deeds he had accomplished in the past would either be wiped away or set aside. Some said that the soul wrote two books, one white and the other black. Whichever was heavier at the end determined where a soul would be sent, heaven or hell. Achak’s little black book was now not so little and was more than twice the weight of the other.

“What is this? It wasn’t there yesterday.”

There was a warning at the bottom of the page, but the characters were in an unknown language. It resembled Egyptian hieroglyphics, but it wasn’t. The symbol of the sword and shield was repeated several times, and one that resembled a man hanging from the gallows. One could have been the symbol of fire, but he couldn’t be sure. Another looked like a man having his head chopped off with a sword. He had never come upon such a thing before, a warning from the book that was indecipherable. Other symbols were unrecognizable and resembled animal scratches. What was the point of showing the warning? Achak considered what to do next. He stared at the torso floating in the flames, watching it vanish into the fire.

As his level of power increased the better, he would be able to defend himself from anyone or anything. The page then quivered as if to get his attention. The warning turned into solid symbols, broke, and then fell onto the forest floor, turning to dust at his feet. It was as if the book had a mind of its own.

A skull larger than the others protruded partially from the fire; its gravelly voice spat flames and embers out of its mouth past rotten teeth, including one of the bird’s feathers. “Do you want to be a follower, or do you want to be a leader?”

Achak watched as an ember struck his left forearm and burned, it healed, but the scent of burning skin remained. He knew he lacked one vital ingredient for the spell; Achak needed a live wizard to toss into the fire because he certainly wasn’t going to jump in there. He could feel the fire pulling at him, but it wasn’t nearly strong enough to cause him to worry.

Two skulls in the fire were fighting one another, with the sounds of bone hitting bone as their heads collided. Tok, tok, tok! Achak turned and stared at the battle as if it was amusing. One hit the other with such velocity it knocked the other more than a foot out of the fire but was pulled back in.

Achak would have to leave his forest home to capture a wizard.