Casey rang the doorbell for the second time. He glanced up at the sparrow that was in a tree beside the entrance. “Are you certain he’s home?”
“He returned not too long ago.”
“Was the sun still up–” Then the door suddenly opened.
A blond haired man with gray eyes stood at the door, wearing only jeans and a t-shirt that said had a rustic pentagram on it. “Casey,” said Mike. “Scott said you were coming to see me.”
“Yeah. Can I come in?”
“No,” Mike said, and stepped outside, shutting the door.
“You want to talk out here?”
“Yes.” He looked at the trees almost accusingly, then headed to a picnic table beneath the trees. “Which Native American god are we talking, here?”
“What did Scott tell you?”
“He said that some Native American god decided he liked him.”
“Lord Hino, god of thunder, storms, the sky and the ocean.”
“How the hell did that happen?”
“Hino hasn’t told me.” Casey finally sat down across from Mike. “Look, Mike, Hino thinks you’re a black magician.”
“I used to be. And I do use netherworld magic.”
“Explain that?”
“Why do I need to explain to you?” demanded Mike.
“You’re not explaining to me.” Casey motioned to the trees. “You’re explaining to them.”
Mike looked at the trees around him and knew what Casey was talking about: the birds. The god of the sky’s messengers were the birds. Mike focused back on Casey. “All right, then. Netherworld magic is using power from the afterlife, and from what’s known as hell, or the abyss. What do you call where the spirits go?”
“Spirit world.”
“What about evil spirits?”
“They go to the spirit world but they try to come back here to cause havoc with people.”
“I can use that power, that evil spirit, for my own use.”
“Seriously?”
“I can do that. But I don’t do that anymore. Use spirits, that is. I still use dark powers. I’m, well, tuned into that. But!” He held up a hand before Casey said anything. “But, I don’t use it for evil deeds.”
“How can you use black magic for good things?”
Mike smiled, “There’s the rub, isn’t it? You don’t believe that I can take life from one thing and give it to another to heal them? Or that I can concentrate dark magic into a series of pummeling near-solid clouds that both hurt an enemy both body and soul?”
“What’s an enemy?”
“It used to be everyone.”
“And now?”
“People I don’t know, or some people I know too well.”
“That could still mean everyone.”
Mike only smiled, not saying a word.
“So you’re not a black magician, and cause people – innocent people – harm.”
“I used to. I don’t anymore.”
A bird fluttered up into the sky, and Casey said, “That’s all I needed to hear.”
Mike nodded, and got up. “If you’ll excuse me, I have something in the oven.”
“Sure, sure.” Casey watched Mike leave and wondered how much of what Mike said was true. Casey had made a promise to Scott. But he wasn’t comfortable with it. At least Hino couldn’t read his mind.