Potter's Field

Chapter Three/Part Three: The Eachy

Mars returned to the hallway, book in hand, cane swinging to and fro.  Whistling an old Irish jig, he started back for the library when he paused, catching something out of the corner of his eye.  He turned around, head tilted as he peered through a slit in the boards of the small window at the end of the hall.  Someone stood down on the grounds.   Curious, he walked closer to the window, wondering if yet another magician had decided to test his guards.

            Someone had been testing his guards lately.  Quick little jabs at his barrier, a late night intruder on his property, scared off by Samuel, an underground probe of magic.  Each had proved fruitless for whoever was trying to get in, but they were irritating, nonetheless.  Maybe this time, Mars would catch the illusive magician and make sure he couldn’t try his guards again.  The thought of the punishment he had planned for his annoying little friend made him smile.   

            As he got closer to the window, though, his smile disappeared and goose bumps rose on his arms and the back of his neck as he realized what it was he saw.  At the edge of his land, right before his magical barrier, stood a figure shrouded in brown rags.  He recognized it immediately – the Eachy.  Silver had playfully called it Nicore once, and the name had stuck.

Before Mars set up residence, it had been in the mansion, haunting every floor, restlessly moving around, sniffing at corners, running its blackened hands down the walls as it searched for something.  Mars had considered letting it be for half a second until it launched itself at him unexpectedly, grabbing his face and staring at him. 

He’d been so surprised, he instinctively blasted it out of the mansion into the ocean.  It had come back, repeatedly, startling Mars every time it jumped on him.  He didn’t like the feeling he got whenever it touched him – like something was probing inside his head, searching for something.  

Each time the Eachy jumped on him, he blasted it farther with more vicious spells, wasting more and more time.  Still, it came back, repeatedly.  Nothing he did seemed to faze it.  It took him a while to finally find a barrier that worked against it.  Now, it sat at the edge of the docks, poked around the property line, never daring to cross, and wandered out on the ocean.    

Every time he saw it, Mars could sense how wrong it was.  He didn’t quite know what manner of being it was – “Eachy” was about as close as he could get.  But the feeling he got told him that it was something that shouldn’t belonged in this world. 

            He watched, safely invisible behind the tiny slit in the boards.  At least he thought so, until the Eachy looked up and turned its shrouded head toward him.  Mars swallowed hard, and though he couldn’t see its face or eyes because of the ragged cloak, a new round of shivers exploded down his spine.  Mars didn’t fear many things, but this thing, this Nicore, made him want more than anything to back away and never again look out the window for fear of what he would see.  But he couldn’t.  His feet seemed rooted to the floor, eyes glued to that figure out the window.  As he watched, riveted, the Eachy raised a shriveled, blackened hand and reached out toward Mars as though it could see him perfectly well.

            Eyes widening, he forced his feet to step backward, his eyes still glued on the Eachy.  His foot hit a rough patch of the floor, making him trip backwards.  Yelping, he caught himself, wincing as his wrist bent a little too far inward.        

            Jumping back to his feet, he scanned the view outside the window.   The Eachy was gone.  Jerking himself away from the window, he closed his eyes and breathed in his nose and out his mouth, trying to sort out his thoughts.  

          Mars shook his head, straightened, and started down the hallway, trying to put the Eachy from his mind.  He couldn’t resist a peek back toward the window, but it really was gone.

         By the time he reached the first floor, Mars calmed down enough to laugh at his reaction to Nicore.  The Eachy hadn’t ever done any real harm to him except to make him waste time keeping it from the mansion.  And here he was, shaking in his boots because it had appeared so suddenly and reached out toward him.  He should be ashamed of himself.  He was Luther C. Mars, greatest magician in the world – at least, when he could use his magic he was.  Definitely the most intelligent, though, no matter how much his age limited him.