Free The Forsaken - The Apocalypse Trilogy: Book Two by G. Wells Taylor Page A

magician looked up at Dawn and
gestured toward her. She dropped to the sidewalk, skipped forward
and bowed. “I performed the same trick just the other day with the
help of my good friend Mojo.” Mr. Jay smoothed the material over
Oscar’s shoulders. “Of course, Mojo was a little taller than you at
the start of it…”
    Oscar’s eyes went wide with astonishment, and
the gathered throng laughed.
    Mr. Jay mimicked the man’s expression before
continuing, “No, Oscar, I’m just pulling your legs of course. What
I would like is to have your participation in a magical conjuration
that comes down to us through the ages. A trick so profound that it
is rarely taught outside of Egypt, a trick so spellbinding that the
old gypsy woman who taught it to me did so only after extricating a
promise that I never perform it while she lived.” He scowled then
smiled. “So I killed her!”
    The audience laughed as they closed the
performers in a half-circle. The movement frightened Dawn a little.
She skipped back to the iron bars and climbed until she was well
above the group.
    “Hold now. Come no closer!” Mr. Jay held a
hand up. “We will need plenty of room for the magic to work.” The
people moved to obey. “But not too far. You must watch closely.
Behold…”
    Mr. Jay left Oscar and walked over beneath
Dawn’s perch where he had set his backpack. From it he slowly slid
his walking stick. He whipped around too quickly for Dawn to
register any of her concern with him. She didn’t like this trick
and her nerves were already frayed by the presence of so any
strangers.
    The magician walked over to Oscar, twirling
the cane as he did so. “Now Oscar!” He flashed the walking stick
before him, and then gently held it out for his new assistant to
inspect. “Please inform the audience of what your close inspection
reveals about my walking stick.” He gestured with the cane. “Go on.
Take it.”
    Oscar took the walking stick, twisted its
black enameled length in his hands, sighted along it like it a gun
barrel, and pulled on its silver ends.
    “And what have you found, Oscar?” Mr. Jay
bowed.
    “It’s steel with black paint on it. And the
ends are tin.” Oscar smiled.
    Mr. Jay’s head whipped up and he frowned.
“Tin!” He snatched the walking stick away from him. “Silver—genuine
silver! The very same taken from the Aztec ruins by the
conquistadors.” Mr. Jay frowned at the man in mock seriousness.
“Thank you, Oscar, that will be all.” The gathering laughed but
quickly fell silent as Mr. Jay held the walking stick by one end.
He flipped its dark length toward the sky, and held it out, his arm
parallel to the ground.
    “Since ancient times…” he began. Dawn inched
herself a little higher. “Men of little faith have needed proof to
convince their eyes of what their hearts could not see , but suspected .” Mr. Jay stepped forward. Slowly he walked around
the short half-circle in front of the audience. “And so the priests
of old were given the task of discovering methods for convincing
doubters.” He laughed, and rolled his eyes—shooting mysterious
glances at individuals in the group. “And so, I tell you now that
by the same arcane magic do I come to you today to mystify…” He
started to take slow circling steps. The upper tip of the walking
stick began to follow his gyrating movements. “I come to amaze…”
Mr. Jay stepped closer to the wrought iron fence. “And I come to terrify !”
    With that he dashed the walking stick on the
ground and a cobra ten feet in length appeared. It reared and
hissed, at the crowd. They cried out as it took two slow lunges at
them. The people retreated further. Dawn could see the black scales
speckling the creature’s back; she could hear its belly rasp the
wet concrete as it slithered.
    Mr. Jay bellowed. “Behold!” He raised an arm,
and the cobra turned toward him. The audience held its ground.
“True. I come to mystify.” The snake inched forward. “To