Soul Thief

Thirteen-year-old Dan shuffled along lugging his bookbag, feet kicking up clouds of dust at each step. He bent his head away from the setting sun and scowled into the cold October wind. Worry about what awaited him when he got home from school gnawed at his stomach.

A lone figure approached from an alleyway, wearing a cape and a walking stick.

"Harold." Dan tried outwalking the sixteen-year-old, but he kept pace.

"How's your ma?"

"Fine." Dan kept his eyes on the ground.

"Really fine? Is her sickness any better?"

"None of your business."

"You know I can help heal her."

"She doesn't want magic potions. We don't believe in that."

"Sometimes the only solution is magic."

"No. It's evil. You're not a good wizard."

"How do you know I'm not? I've never harmed anyone."

Dan shook his head, his brow furrowed.

"Harold, your grandfather was a warlock, a member of the Dark Order. I shouldn't even be speaking to you."

Harold reached out a hand.

"Don't you trust me? I'm a student of the light, the White Order."

Dan's stomach cringed mightily. He looked Harold straight in the eye, lips pressed together, hands clutching his bookbag.

"We don't do magic, White or Dark. Best not to mess with it."

Harold shrugged.

"I'm only trying to help. If you need me, let me know."

"Yeah, right. Get lost, please."

Goosebumps tingled Dan's skin the rest of the way home. He looked over his shoulder every few minutes, breaking into a run.

He stumbled into his mother's one-room cabin on the outskirts of town and bolted the door. Only then did he relax, shoulders slumping as he divested himself of his burden.

"Ma? How you feeling?"

He approached the bed in the corner. The patched blanket heaved, revealing a pale face dim with exhaustion.

"Still in pain," she whispered, a thin smile breaking through as he held her frail hand. "How was school?"

"Same ole thing. I'll make you tea. Did you have anything to eat?"

"No. I couldn't get up."

Dan heaved a sigh.

'I wish I could make you better. I feel so helpless."

"I'll heal. You mustn't fret."

"But what if…?"

"Trust, my son."

***

Dan hunched over his homework by the light of the fireplace late that evening. A sharp cry came from Ma's bed. He leaped up to see what was wrong. Papers flew out of his lap across the room.

Ma was writhing, her face flushed and twisted in agony, beads of sweat on her forehead.

"Get help," she rasped. "Hurry!"

He flung the door open to rush to the doctor's house in town.

"My God, Harold!" Dan almost fell backwards as he recognized the cloaked boy lurking on the steps. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought you might need me." Harold waved a black bag. "If you're going anywhere, your ma shouldn't be left alone."

Dan sagged against the doorpost. I can't trust Harold to get the doctor. But I don't want him alone with Ma.

"Care for an emergency elixir?"

A low moaning from the bed pierced Dan's heart.

"You're not a doctor! You're just playing with magic."

"This is not a game." Harold pointed at the bed. "Give me five minutes and I'll save her life."

Dan glanced desperately from Harold to Ma and back. He wanted to ask her, but she was no longer awake, though clearly still suffering.

"There's not enough time to fetch the doctor."

"Ok, do it! But for God's sake, make it quick."

Dan moved aside to let him in. As Harold brushed past, the fire flickered and dimmed in the fireplace. Deftly he sat down beside Ma and unpacked his black bag. He pulled out a glass vial, picked up an eyedropper and added a drop. He held the vial under Ma's nose.

She sneezed. A softly glowing blue cloud flew out of her nostrils and drew itself into the vial. Harold corked it and held it admiringly up to the rapidly fading firelight.

"The cause of your ma's illness has been eliminated."

Dan stared at Ma's limp body. Her chest still rose and fell methodically, and the feverish flush was gone, but something about the pallid blankness of her slumber…

"When will she wake up?" he whispered.

Harold blinked, owl-like. The last glimmer of fire disappeared. All which remained was the faint glow of the blue cloud in Harold's vial.

"Never. I've taken her soul." He snapped his fingers and became invisible.

"No! You didn't!" Dan lunged out, trying to grab what he could no longer see. His fingers brushed the cape and missed. He fell to his knees.

Harold's footsteps headed for the door.

"You know how much these go for on the black market?" his mocking voice rang out as he disappeared into the night.

"Not if I can stop it! I know where you live."

Dan scrambled to his feet and leaped out after him, plunging straight into the woods towards Lake Renuncior. This is all my fault—why did I trust him? I should've shoved past, run for the doctor.

Brambles caught at his clothes and branches smacked him in the face as if trying to hold him back. The full moon followed him, casting unearthly shadows like bony goblin arms reaching for him.

At last the bristly path opened. He stood on a dock extending out into the lake. In the distance, suspended on a pine island, stood a towering mansion, every one of its innumerable windows filled with flat yellow light more unnerving than welcoming.

A rusty, unlit lantern lay on the dock, apparently abandoned. No boat or other means of transport. For all Dan knew, Harold flew across the lake on a broomstick.

He bent to pick up the lantern. It immediately flickered to life, as if waiting for someone to find it. The warm glow encircled him, making him feel a little braver.

He knelt at the edge of the pier, holding the lantern out over the murky waters, studying how to get across. Dan aimed his circle of light at a vague illusion on the water's surface, revealing a line of flat stepping stones leading to the island.

Cautiously he extended a foot, resting it on the nearest one. It held steady. He advanced slowly, shining the lantern on each one as he came to it.

At their front porch, he stood nose-to-nose with a fierce gorgon-head doorknocker. Dan gingerly lifted the loop in its mouth, dropping it with a hollow echoing bang.

The door slowly screeched open into a cavernous hallway. Dan gripped his lantern and stepped into a silence so heavy, it made his ears ring. He inched down the hall, checking any doors and finding them locked.

Finally, near the staircase, one door hung ajar. He burst through into a windowless laboratory. Harold leaned quietly against a countertop, watching him.

"So we meet again. You must really love your Ma."

"Where is she?"

Harold waved an arm at the floor-to-ceiling shelves surrounding him. Row after row of sealed glass vials lined them, each filled with a differently colored glowing cloud representing hundreds of stolen souls.

Dan scanned the shelves. He found Ma's unique shade of cornflower blue six feet up and pointed to it.

"Give her back."

"What are you willing to pay?"

"I don't have anything…" Dan's voice trembled.

"You do." Harold came a step closer. "Would you trade your soul for hers?"

"What?" Dan pulled back. "I couldn't do that!"

"Why not? It's your fault she's here."

"I… I—she would never allow it."

"I think she'd be happy to return to her body, don't you?"

"But…" Dan swallowed hard and stared at Ma's vial, wishing he could ask her what he should do. It's true, my own bad decision brought us here. If I take her place, at least I deserve it.

"Go ahead," Harold whispered. "She'll be proud of you."

Dan looked down at the lantern he was holding. It had reverted to the darkened, dilapidated state he'd found it in.

"My lure worked like a charm," Harold snickered. His careless sarcasm broke the spell of mournful guilt he'd woven. It became replaced by a flush of sheer anger as Dan realized he was caught in a trap.

"You think I'm gonna let you harvest my soul, you scheming bully? You'll take mine and keep hers too!"

Dan swung his arm, hurling the rusty contraption at Harold's smirking face. Harold ducked. The lantern smashed into one of the shelves behind him, releasing a fog of souls swirling blindingly around them.

"You idiot!" Harold screamed. "They'll escape, but we won't!"

The release triggered chaos. More vials spontaneously shattered and the fog grew to a choking density as the remaining trapped souls gained energy. Dan caught a glimpse of one vial as what looked like a tiny red tornado formed within. He threw his arms over his face as the excited soul exploded its bonds to join the ranks.

"Harold! What's happening?"

"Revenge!" His muffled cry was barely discernable. "They'll tear down the house!"

Plaster rained down from the ceiling. Dan rubbed his eyes as debris twirled wildly through the murky air.

A swarm of furious souls tangled around Harold's head, suffocating him as he lay huddled in the fetal position. Dan bent down and tried to swat them away with a rag.

"Stop! Go home!" he shouted uselessly. "Ma! Where are you?"

A cornflower blue cloud engulfed them, pushing aside the other soul clouds. Dan pulled the gasping Harold to his feet.

Ma's blue cloud guided them both towards the door, forming a protective barrier between the boys and the whirlwind of angry lost souls. They clung to each other, stumbling through the hall and collapsing in the wet grass outside.

Dan looked up to see streams of multicolored smoky fog gushing out the now-broken windows of the old mansion as the souls made their final escape into the open air. They dissipated like will-o'-the-wisps. The only one remaining was Ma, her blue glow reflecting on the lake.

Harold sat up and brushed the plaster out of his face.

"You… you saved me?" he wheezed. "Why?"

"Don't ask me," Dan scowled. "Apparently Ma likes you, you son of a warlock."

He turned to leave.

"Wait! I—I'm really sorry. Can I come over and apologize to her… and you?"

Dan glanced back at Harold, sitting rather pathetically on the ground in front of his shattered house. He looked ahead again at Ma's soul, waiting patiently by the water's edge. He turned around and stood over Harold, arms folded grimly.

"How do I know her soul will return properly to her body?"

"It's seamless. She'll never know."

"What about her sickness?"

"I did that. It'll be all gone, I promise!" he added as Dan glowered.

"Fine. I'm taking you back with us so I can wring your neck if anything goes wrong!"

***

At the one-room cabin, Ma's soul found her body, slipping into her nostrils on a breath as smoothly as a waft of mist. Dan prepared a pot of tea. He and Harold sat waiting for her to wake up, sipping tea and exchanging uneasy glares.

After what seemed like an eternity, Ma sighed, stretched, and sat up. She looked at the two anxious boys with eyes which twinkled the same cornflower blue as her soul.

"Isn't it early to be visiting, Harold?" She drew aside the curtains over her window to reveal a glorious sunrise.

Harold squirmed in his seat, tapping his fingers on the teacup and avoiding her gaze.

"I was concerned about your health, Ma'am. I must apologize."

"Really? How very thoughtful." She raised an eyebrow. "I'm perfectly fine. Was something wrong?"

Dan and Harold glanced at each other. They started laughing.

"No, Ma. Everything's good." He squeezed her hand, now strong and firm.

"Glad to hear it."

Words: 1,990.
Written for the October 2024 Short Shots, an Official WdC Contest.
Prompt: