Haven: Revenge of the Viper (25 page)

Travis noticed Sam’s gaze, walked over, and placed his hand on the PlayStation. “Yeah, I’m gonna miss my old Jessy. She was good to me.”

Sam smirked. “Jessy? You named your PlayStation Jessy?”

Travis frowned and looked offended. “Whatever, Sam, you were never a serious gamer like me. Think of it like a racecar driver referring to his car with a pet name.”

“Yeah, I get the symbolism, Speed Racer,” Sam smirked.

“Whatever.”

“So, why Jessy?”

Travis began to blush. “Oh, well, long story.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Why Jessy?” he asked again, his gaze turning into a hard stare. Travis grimaced and sighed.

“Fine! You want to break a man down? I named it after … Jessica Rabbit. There, you happy?”

Sam could not help but laugh. The feeling almost felt foreign to him now. “Wha … What? Why Jessica Rabbit?”

“I was like five, dude, I don’t know!” Travis said, throwing his hands up in the air.

Sam shook his head, grinning. “Yeah, well, I’ve got a pretty good idea why.”

“Yeah, yeah … get your mind out of the gutter, perv!” Travis groaned and plopped himself on Sam’s bed.

Sam smiled as he surveyed the room for anything else he might need, when suddenly the room was illuminated with a flash of blue light and Lucio emerged, holding a silver flask in his armored glove.

“The flask, sir,” he said, holding out a small bottle. “Coppertop wasn’t particularly happy about relinquishing the potion but Mahan persuaded him.”

Demetrius took the flask from the Centurion. “Thank you, Lucio.”

“Yes, sir,” The soldier replied.

Demetrius turned to Sam and Travis. “This should solve your problem,” he said, and held up the silver flask. A series of black ligatures separated by small symbols lined the top and bottom of the container.

Travis stood up from the bed. “What does it do?”

Demetrius unscrewed the top of the flask and poured a few drops of the thick liquid into the cap. The opalescent potion sparkled and swirled on its own, emitting a perfumed smell into the air. Sam thought it was alive at first, like a large microorganism. But it wasn’t, he finally concluded, it just looked bizarre, like everything else from this other world.

“Silver Ever-lace is a very powerful potion,” Demetrius said. “It has the ability to erase the memory of those who drink it. With the proper incantation it can be directed to erase a specific situation, place, or thing, even a person’s entire memory. Not only will it wipe the memory of the one who drinks it, but any they come in contact with as well. It will continue to spread like this until the memory and everything related to it becomes nonexistent.

“So, like, if my grandmother takes it and then talks to my grandfather about me, they’ll both forget me?” Travis asked.

“Correct, “Demetrius said, “like you never existed. But you can also protect certain people from memory loss if you wish. Again, it all boils down to the proper incantation.”

“So, I’m guessing you have used this before and you know the incantation?” Sam asked.

“Yes,” Demetrius replied. “I have had to use it once or twice, depending on the mission I was on. But there was no time for me to acquire the potion before coming here since it’s a controlled substance. Proper procedures must be followed. Coppertop, on the other hand, being from the Department of Magical Sterilization, carries it with him at all times.”

“Great, a guy like that can wipe memories … I could have lived without knowing that,” Travis said shaking his head.

“Well, it’s regulated with a memory charm.” Both Sam and Travis looked puzzled. “Meaning that every time the potion is used the bottle will record how it was used and by whom. Flasks of Silver Ever-lace are always turned in to the Magical Artifacts Department for analysis after a mission is complete.”

Sam nodded like he understood everything Demetrius said, and it seemed to be enough for Travis too. “Okay so … what do we do now?” Travis asked.

“Wait, Trav,” Sam said as he took a step closer to Travis. “This is big. I mean, are you really okay with this? There is no going back. After tonight your grandparents will never know you even existed.”

Travis stared at Sam with a probing gaze, then lifted his chin, cleared his throat, and his expression became serious.

“The way I see it, Sam, is that I have two choices. Stay with my grandparents who may live another five years if I’m lucky or say goodbye now, on my own terms. I choose … my own terms,” he said with a sense of finality in his tone. “I hate having to choose, but I know I can’t stand by and do nothing and have the only other people I consider family walk out of my life.” Travis paused and looked down to the floor. “I can’t do it, Sam. I just can’t do it.” He took in a deep breath before looking back up. “They have my uncle Keven so I know they will be taken care of. Besides, you need me, Sam. You might not think you do, but you do. You need your family.”

Sam thought for a moment before speaking. He wondered what he would do if the tables were turned. Could he leave his grandparents if he had any? Could he risk his life to help someone he thought of as family? The answer to that question, he realized, was yes, he could. He was doing that already for Sarah and he would do it for anyone he considered family.

“Okay, Trav,” Sam said and pursed his lips. “I understand.”

Travis smiled and sighed in relief. “’Bout time,” he said and turned to look back at Demetrius, “So, you were saying?”

Demetrius raised his eyebrows. He seemed caught off guard, as if he wasn’t sure Sam and Travis were really done talking. After a moment’s pause he said, “I will take you to your home, Travis, where we can administer the potion. Sam will remain behind with Mahan. Demetrius looked to Sam. “Are you okay with that?”

“Um, yeah, I guess, but why can’t I go with you?” Sam asked.

“I think the fewer people that go the better. I don’t exactly blend in and the three of us together might draw unwanted attention. Besides, you will be safer here.

Sam didn’t necessarily like that answer but said nothing more about it.

“Lucio, please take Sam here down below with Mahan.”

The large Centurion turned and moved into the room, his magnificent armor reflecting the green and blue light that illuminated from the gemstones of the staffs.

“Yes, sir,” he replied.

Demetrius poured the contents of the Silver Ever-lace back into the flask and stowed it beneath the chest plate of his armor. He then took a step forward and brought Hollister between Travis and himself. “It’s time, Travis.”

Travis looked at Hollister and his face sank. “Yeah, okay,” he sighed as he placed a hand around the staff. Sam thought he already looked squeamish; he knew he wasn’t looking forward to evaporating again.

There was a green flash and the two bodies disappeared, leaving behind the familiar green mist in their wake. Sam zipped his backpack up, threw it over his shoulder, and took one final look around his room. He would miss this place. After all, it had been his room for thirteen years.

Sam looked up at Lucio and gave a tight smile. “I guess I’m ready, Lucio.” The Centurion nodded and placed his elegant silver staff between them. Sam took in a deep breath, knowing what came next. Slowly he placed his hand on the staff and hooked his thumb through the strap of his backpack. The shaft was warm, the room was silent, and then everything went dark.

When Sam reappeared he was standing on the bottom floor near the front door, and for the first time he didn’t feel like he wanted to throw up after evaporating. He glanced over at Lucio, who was looking down at him. Sam could see his blue eyes through the dark recesses of his helmet.

“Thanks for the ride,” he said. Lucio nodded and then evaporated, returning to his post upstairs.

Sam walked toward Mahan, who was standing guard near the back of the living room watching Coppertop. Two long, slender cases, his mother’s Quarrem, and Poppy lay at Coppertop’s feet. Sam assumed the slender cases were the Viper’s sword and Nara. Moving next to Mahan, Sam watched as Coppertop, with his wild hair and wiry body, began waving his wand in a large circular motion, turning clockwise each time his hand completed a full circle. Sam heard him repeating the same phrase over and over.

“Clean thy air and all that be. Leave nothing behind for man to see.”

Golden sparks shot from the tip of his wand and moved through the air, as if they were riding a gentle breeze around the room. Sam stood captivated as the shimmering sparks moved faster and faster until they were swirling like a giant dust storm in the center of the living room. The velocity of currents rattled the walls as pieces of broken furniture and debris rose from the floor, consumed by the swirling winds. Piece by piece, the wreckage was swept into the vortex and disappeared into the golden blur.

Sam could feel his hair whipping around his face. He was scared that something was going to fly out of the vortex and crush them.

“Is this supposed to be happening?” he yelled over the whistling winds to Mahan. But before Mahan could reply everything suddenly stopped and floated in midair—all except for the golden sparkles, which fell ever so lightly, like dust to the ground and vanished.

Coppertop looked over at Sam, and smiled, revealing his stained, yellow teeth again. Then he waved his wand in a circle like a mad conductor.

Sam watched as the smallest splinters and the largest pieces of wood flew together to form furniture again. Loose wires were sucked back into the walls, stagnant water from burst pipes disappeared, leaving the ground dry. The once demolished kitchen looked spotless with gleaming countertops and sparkling faucets. He watched in astonishment as the staircase and the top landing repaired itself and the banister flew back, landing slowly on top of its spindles.

Sam couldn’t believe his eyes; within a matter of minutes the entire house was back to normal.
This is magic I could get into,
he thought. Cleaning his room and the garage would be a piece of cake if he knew how to do all that.

“Wow, that was amazing!” he said, still looking around the room in disbelief. Coppertop looked over at Sam, quite proud of himself.

“There aren’t none better, boy!” he said grinning. Sam walked around the room, captivated at what he saw. There was not a single thing damaged, scratched, or out of place now. The house was just as it had been before the chaos, before the Vipers. But his walk slowed when he reached the coffee table and saw his mother’s mug of green tea and her copy of
Stretching A Dollar
by Reginald Blum. He felt a tightness in his throat and then looked away and stared down at his feet.

He wished he could go back and change what happened but he knew that was impossible, and letting his head fill with self-loathing thoughts was not helping anyone. He needed to be stronger, he told himself. He needed to keep his emotions locked down and focus on what lay ahead.

Sam turned to adjust his backpack on his shoulder when a burst of green light erupted in the center of the room. The next thing he saw was Demetrius grabbing Travis before he hit the ground.

“It’s okay, I have you!” Demetrius said.

Sam walked to the center of the room. Travis looked pale and his skin was a little blotchy.

“You okay, Trav?” Sam asked.

“Well, I’m not sure,” he groaned, “but if the power is back on and your house has magically put itself back together, then yeah.”

Sam smiled, “Then you’re okay.”

Travis’s eyes scanned room. “So, how did this happen?”

Sam tilted his head in Coppertop’s direction. “He did it. It was pretty awesome.”

“Man, this place looks better than before,” Travis said, looking around.

“Yeah, I know,” Sam agreed.

Demetrius helped Travis to stand up straight, which wasn’t easy considering the large camping backpack he had strapped to his shoulders.

“Wow, did you pack your whole closet, Trav?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, I got a little carried away,” Travis said. Sam noticed he had changed clothes too. He was wearing a ridiculous
Star Wars
t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers.

“Seriously, Trav, where did you get that shirt?”

Travis looked down at his t-shirt, which had a picture of Darth Vader’s head on it and a caption that read
, Sith Happens
. “What?” he said. “I love this shirt! My uncle Keven gave it to me and I never get to wear it.”

Sam shook his head, “I can’t believe you chose that shirt to go to another world in.”

“Whatever, it’s not like they’ll even get it. Right, Demetrius?” Demetrius was staring down at his t-shirt.

“What’s a Sith?” he asked.

“You see?” Travis said, happy to prove his point. Sam just shook his head again. It was funny, though, just to hear Demetrius say the word Sith.

“All done here, Lore!” a voice called out behind them. It was Coppertop. He was leaning against the kitchen counter petting Poppy, who was sprawled out on the bar above the sink.

“The only thing left is the sweep up. But I need you to leave for that,” he grunted.

Sam and Travis looked over to Demetrius.

“Sweep up?” Sam asked.

Demetrius nodded. “He will clear the house of all your belongings, which will be sent to the Majesty for storage until you are ready for them. Then he can cast an autosensory charm on the house.”

“What does that do?” Travis asked.

“It will give the illusion to anyone who is looking at the house that someone still lives here. From time to time they will even think they see you and your family coming and going.”

“Wow,” Travis said, looking over at Coppertop. Coppertop sneered.

“I’m good, boy.”

“Yes, quite impressive, Coppertop,” Demetrius added glumly.

“The best!” Coppertop continued. “There aren’t none better. You won’t find a trace of dark magic in the human bunghole!”

“Yes, and always pleasant,” Demetrius whispered. “I am sure we won’t,” he said louder with a pained smile. “We’ll let you get back to it. I know you still have perimeter work to do.” Coppertop squinted, loathing Demetrius’s very existence.

“Well, of course I do. There is always perimeter work to be done.” He spun around and walked to the kitchen door. “Poppy, come!” he yelled.