Favorite Scene Saturdays: a new tradition. You in?

From here on, Saturday’s are going to be known as Favorite Scene Saturdays (FSS), where I’ll post favorite scenes of mine, favorite moments in my books — and yours. Meaning? I would love, love, love to start posting favorite scenes YOU’VE written. Things you’re proud of. Interested? Then please, send them. Let’s start a new tradition together.

Today? A scene from TMC — Luke  gets his key; Mark makes a choice; and we meet a new friend. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

As he reached out and grabbed the key, he felt the numbness melt away; his whole body was glowing with happiness. A few seconds later, the light from the key had faded, along with the wings, yet the glow remained. He looked up at Mark. But Mark’s blue eyes appeared stormy.

“We gotta get out of here,” Mark said, scanning the room.

“What? Didn’t you just see what happened?”

Mark wasn’t paying attention.

“Look!” He held his key out, but Mark didn’t look long. All of a sudden, a loud rumble came from above. “What was that?” Luke asked. He didn’t have time to ask again when the sound repeated itself.

“Forget about the noise,” said Mark, who had just tucked a small brown book into his sweatshirt pouch. “Just follow me. And hide your key, ok?”

“What—” But he was out the door before Luke could question him. Frustrated, he shoved his key inside his pocket and followed Mark.

They made their way back up to the main grounds. But before they reached the top of the stairs, Mark stopped.

“Where are—” Luke started to ask, but his mouth stopped moving.

A wall of water materialized before him and a man, shooting out as if on a slide, landed deftly on his feet. Seconds later, the wall had disappeared. Not one drop of water appeared on the ground nor on the man’s coat. Standing, he was at least a foot taller than Luke. He had bushy eyebrows, grey hair, and square spectacles, perched perfectly on his nose. He looked well into his seventies; however, his strong stature and tall frame told Luke he wasn’t someone to challenge.

The man seemed not to notice Luke, and shaking Mark’s hand, the two proceeded to talk in hushed tones.

Something didn’t feel right. Was this the man who Mark had been talking to before? Was this the man who had been angry with him? But even in the dimmest of lights, Luke didn’t think the man looked untrustworthy. In fact, the longer Luke looked at him, the more he felt like he knew him.

“You two ok? He has his key?” asked the man, now looking at Luke. Hanging around his neck was a beautiful golden key.

“You’re a…Keeper,” muttered Luke.

“He just got it,” said Mark quickly. “But you’ve gotta go. Now. I don’t know how long Mortifer will wait.”

“Who?”

“You’ll learn soon enough,” said the man before Mark could answer. “But for now, I’m Cashal.” He held out his hand. Luke shook it, no less confused. Cashal then turned back to Mark. “Can you get outside to let me know if it’s clear?

“You can’t just disappear with him now?”

“No. My own spell would backfire on me. It must be through the main door.”

Luke’s heartbeat was racing by now. Spells? Backfire? What were they talking about? And how did Mark know this man? As Mark slipped out the hidden door, Luke finally managed a question. “What’s going on?”

Cashal looked at something in his hand. A small clear orb that when Luke looked carefully at it, had small figures floating inside of it. Without looking up, Cashal spoke. “It’s all too much to explain right now. But what you must know is I’m here to adopt you tonight. It’s not exactly how I had planned on it happening, but right now all I’m concerned about is getting you to my place safely.”

Something came to Luke.

“Were you the one writing me letters?”

“Letters?”

Suddenly, the door flew open and Mark came stumbling back inside. He was breathing hard. “No one’s there. The main hallway is clear, but I don’t know for how long.”

Cashal pocketed the orb. “Alright, let’s go. Luke,” he said, speaking right into his ear, “it’s imperative that you head straight towards the main doors. Do not turn around for anything, understand? The faster this is done, the faster you’ll be safe.”

“But my papers—she’ll never let you take me.”

“Oh I’m not concerned about Aberdeen, anymore,” said Cashal.

“Then what about Mark?”

“You just go,” said Mark. He looked older all of a sudden; all jovialness gone from his face.

Panic began welling up inside of Luke like a balloon. “No, you’re coming. You have to come!”

“I’ll do my best. Just worry about getting out that door, ok?” Luke didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. He was still digesting everything that was going on.

“Don’t do this to me, Cedrus. You have to go. Look, it’s your chance, ok? Trust me,” Mark said and gripped Luke’s shoulder. All Luke could do was nod.

The three of them made their way quietly into the entryway. The entire area was dimly lit; only the main candles were glowing in their holders, which cast flickering shadows along the ceiling. It was eerily quiet. Too quiet, Luke thought. Mrs. Hall always had something going at night, whether it was the dishwasher or the laundry. But as he walked across the hardwood floor, silence rang dead in his ears.

“Cashal, hurry,” said Mark suddenly.

Luke wanted to turn around, but heard Cashal say keep going. He planted his eyes firmly on the door and picked up his speed. He was only a few feet away from the door when it happened.

“What is he doing here?” came a piercing yell. Even though Luke couldn’t see her, he knew it was Mrs. Hall. “See?  I told you he’d backstab us! Get the little miscreant!” she yelled.

Every fiber of his body wanted to leave right then and there, no matter how dangerous it was going to be.  Anywhere was better than here. He would never have to see her again, never have to experience her fury, her hatred. He wanted out and he was getting out. Tonight. He hurried.

BANG! Then, a flash of light. Luke was desperate to turn around, but he kept going. He was so close to the door.  But what was happening? What was Mrs. Hall doing here? Suddenly, he felt an icy wave of air seep through his nose and shoot throughout his body. He couldn’t move. His body was frozen to the spot.

“Cashal,” he said, but Cashal was already pointing his key at his legs. His eyebrows were furrowed deep below his spectacles and for a few moments, Luke was afraid he wasn’t going to move again. Another loud bang sounded.  Cashal whirled around. Luke heard him gasp.

“Put him down, Mortifer!” cried Cashal.

Someone laughed. “I will do with him as I wish,” came a deep, raspy voice. It sent chills through Luke’s already chilled body. Very slowly, he looked over his shoulder.

Cashal had his key aimed at a man Luke had never seen before. He was wearing a long black jacket that skimmed the floor; he wore black gloves; even his hair was black. And his eyes—the darkest pools of grey Luke had ever seen. Mrs. Hall was nowhere in sight.

Cashal took a step forward.

“I said put him down.”  Luke turned his head a little bit farther and saw with horror Mark hovering in the air. His eyes were shut and his hands were on his throat. He looked like he was being held up by an invisible noose. The man in black stood calmly beside him, his face bereft of emotion. His eye twitched, however, as Cashal took another step forward.

“I do not recall you being one of my B.C.s,” said the man, coolly.

“What would that matter?”

The man seemed to contemplate this before shrugging his bony shoulders. “You are right—it would not.”

With a quick wave of his key, Cashal shot a golden beam straight at the hovering Mark. The light hit him, and instantly he fell, landing on the hard floor with a sickening thud.

“Mark!” Luke had to do something. He twisted his body around and suddenly felt all his limbs come back to life. He took a few steps forward when suddenly Cashal came crashing into him.

“Move!”

Luke had no choice but to turn and run. The two hit the door from their speed. Luke managed to grab the knob and turned. Suddenly, he heard a loud yell. He whirled around, his hand still on the knob. But all he saw before he was pushed outside was the sight of the man in black standing over Mark.

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