Magikans: Chapter One - Final Draft

Below is the streamlined first chapter or prologue for my newly completed novel (finally). Any thoughts from the community would be greatly welcomed at this point as the most useful opinion for a writer's work is arguably an outsider's opinion. Hope you enjoy it!

Fire and Lightning

Thunder shook the air as the rain fell. The gutters of New York City struggled to swallow it, spluttering as they battled to keep the roads from drowning. A fierce storm raged above the skyscrapers, belching wind and spitting white fire. Two figures stood at the crest of the tallest tower, circling each other like lions.

The first was a young man dressed in a white shirt, grey waistcoat and matching trousers, tattered at the knees. He clutched a singed suit jacket and bellowed through the rain.

‘I was all for playing nicely Kortrap, but this…’ he yelled, motioning to the jacket, ‘cost me five hundred dollars! The only reason you’re still alive is because I can’t remember the exchange rate!’

Kortrap, the taller, broader man glared from beneath his hood. The lightning sliced bright reflections in his eyes as the rain pelted his heavy black jacket. His arm was outstretched to his side; a mysterious orb of red light hovering perfectly still just below his palm. The young man showed no interest in it.

‘I’m warning you, Michael,’ snarled Kortrap, the strange red orb of light brightening dangerously beneath his fingers. ‘I don’t have time to waste on the pathetic babble of a half-breed.’

‘Hey!’ scolded Michael, raising a finger. ‘That’s racist.’

‘I’m only going to ask you once,’ roared Kortrap over the howling wind. ‘Where is the boy?’ Michael squinted at him in confusion, cupping a hand over his ear. Kortrap bellowed in frustration. ‘Where is the boy!?’

‘Ha! Thought you were only going to ask me once?’ jeered Michael.

Snarling with fury, Kortrap swung the hand which held the orb and a brilliant bolt of flame tore across the rooftop. Michael turned his head to watch the wind carry the the fire straight past him, making sure to hold his jacket far out of reach.

‘Where is the heir to the Silver Skeleton?’

‘Somewhere you’ll never find him!’

Kortrap was about to attack again when his attention was caught by a new sound filtering through the storm. The rhythmic beating of helicopter blades. He turned to see the vehicle approaching unsteadily against the gale. A searching spotlight illuminated nearby rooftops in a sweeping beam of light. They were close to being spotted. Michael’s arms fell limp as the danger of the situation dawned on him.

‘Reinforcements? I thought you fought alone,’ said Kortrap, turning back to face his foe. The light of the red orb again grew in intensity as the police officers in the helicopter began to speak over the megaphone.

‘Kortrap!’ shouted Michael desperately over the almost deafening mix of noise: the helicopter, the megaphone, the storm. ‘Whatever this is about, it’s between you and me! I didn’t call them here, they don’t know who you are!’ Kortrap began to laugh.

‘It seems you’re finally taking things seriously’ he shouted. ‘Tell me where he is and I will spare them!’ 

‘Kortrap I…’

‘Tell me where he is!’

The helicopter came ever closer, scouring the skyscrapers; oblivious to the peril ahead.

‘Don’t do it, Kortrap!’ Michael shouted back at him, taking a step forward.

Kortrap spat in Michael’s direction and closed his hand over the red orb beneath his palm. Bright amber flames leapt from the light source, surrounding his forearm in a blaze of heat. He aimed his flaming fist at the helicopter. Michael threw his jacket aside and sprinted through the rain. Kortrap grinned as the fire surged.

Before the torrent of flame had reached the spinning blades, Michael had thrown himself into Kortrap. The force of the tackle sent both men crashing to the edge of the rooftop where they fought precariously for a terrifying moment before slipping into the storm. They fell; engulfed in flame. Wind tore at their skin as they plummeted through the air.

A bolt of lightning split the sky.