Magikans: Chapter One

Hi all, I've taken a break from the book for a while now but I think it's about time to get back into it. This is my 'happy with' draft of the first chapter, and I would be really grateful for any feedback at all so I can get an idea of how much work still needs doing. It's always easy to miss the obvious when it comes to your own writing...

Fire and Lightning

Rain cascaded over the lights of the city, a fierce storm raging above the tower blocks that scratched the sky. Two figures stood at the very peak of a skyscraper, ignoring the fierce winds and dizzying height. They circled each other like lions; slowly, completely focused. One was a young man dressed formally in a white shirt, grey waistcoat and matching trousers which were tattered at the knees. He clutched a singed suit jacket in his right hand as he shouted through the rain, his Irish accent just audible above the weather.

‘I was all for playing nicely Kortrap, but this…’ he yelled, motioning to the jacket, ‘cost me something close to five hundred bucks! The only reason you’re breathing right now is because I can’t remember the exchange rate so I don’t know whether to twist your arm for a refund or just break it off!’

Kortrap, the taller, broader man glared at his enemy. Dark eyes glinted maliciously in the lightning beneath a hooded coat as the rain beat at his clothes.

‘Your shopping does not concern me Michael’ Kortrap growled. ‘All I want is information.’

‘Don’t try to change the subject. You owe me a new jacket! And trousers! And a hat!’

‘You weren’t wearing a hat’ said Kortrap.

‘Well a hat would be nice. Especially since you ruined my date, we were really starting to connect.’

‘Ah, that yellow-headed wench you were entertaining at the table?’

‘She has name Kortrap.’

‘Which is?’

‘Don’t change the subject!’ bellowed Michael.

‘Oh I am sorry’ drawled Kortrap, a sarcastic smile playing about his lips. ‘Would you like me to replace her too?’

‘Replace her? You mean…like a date?’ asked Michael awkwardly. Kortrap’s sly grin disappeared.

‘I meant…like your jacket…not…’

‘I’m flattered, really, but I just don’t think…’

‘Enough!’ Kortrap boomed, clenching his fists. ‘I don’t have time for this, half-breed. Keep testing my patience and I will kill you.’

‘Ah you’re boring.’

‘If ending your life is the only way to shut you up’ said Kortrap, his wry smile returning, ‘then tell me what I want to know and we shall have some peace and quiet.’

‘I don’t know what you mean’ said Michael simply.

Kortrap flexed the fingers of his right hand and a mysterious orb of red light burst into life within his palm. It pulsed dangerously as Michael watched.

‘You barely managed to hit me at the restaurant’ he said, unconcerned, ‘and I was going easy on you.’

‘I will only ask you once. Where is the boy?’ There was a short moment in which Kortrap realised that Michael’s squinting eyes meant he hadn’t heard him over the roaring winds. ‘Where is the boy?’ he shouted in frustration.

‘Thought you were only going to ask me once?’ grinned Michael. Snarling with fury, Kortrap swung the hand which held the orb out in front of him and a brilliant bolt of red light burst across the rooftop. Michael stepped neatly aside to let it hiss past him, making sure to hold his jacket far out of reach.

‘The boy, Michael, where is the boy!? The heir to the Silver Skeleton, where is he!?’’

‘What are you talking about, what boy? What did you say? The bear with the silver wellington?’

The expression of pure confusion on Michael’s face only made Kortrap’s anger worse, but a new sound began to filter through the storm which caught his attention. The rhythmic beating of helicopter blades. Kortrap turned to look out across the labyrinth of skyscrapers and spotted the vehicle flying unsteadily towards them against the wind. A searching spotlight illuminated the rooftops in a frantically sweeping beam of light. It was only a matter of time until the police found what they were looking for. Michael’s arms fell limp as the danger of the situation dawned on him.

‘Oh no’ he murmured fearfully.

‘You called for reinforcements? Unlike you not to fight alone…’ Kortrap growled, turning back to face his enemy. The light of the red orb again grew in intensity as the police officers on board the helicopter began to speak over the megaphone.

‘Kortrap!’ shouted Michael desperately over the fierce 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! There’s no need to kill them!’

Kortrap began to laugh, a terrible sound that pierced through everything. It cut the police megaphone short.

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

‘Kortrap I…’

‘Tell me where he is!’

The helicopter was drawing near, scouring the city below but oblivious to the peril it was approaching.

‘I don’t know what you mean!’ Michael shouted back at him, standing as if he was about to leap forward at any moment. ‘What boy?’

Kortrap spat in Michael’s direction and closed his hand over the red orb beneath his palm. Bright orange flames leapt from the light source, surrounding his forearm. He aimed his flaming fist at the helicopter and clenched his teeth.

Michael threw away his jacket and sprinted through the rain. Kortrap began to grin as the fire rushed from his hand in a torrent of flame.

Before it had reached the spinning blades, Michael had thrown himself into Kortrap with a rugby tackle. The force of the blow sent both men crashing to the edge of the rooftop where they fought precariously for a terrifying moment before slipping into the storm. They were falling; engulfed in flame. Wind tore at their skin and clothes as they plummeted towards the ground.

A bolt of lightning cracked the sky.