A group of them rushed to Anthony, who was awake at this point and being rather whiny. Fortunately, they thought his wounds serious enough to load him on a stretcher, and rolled him to the back of one of the vans.
Two medics approached me then and I thanked them for getting Anthony out of earshot. Little did I know, they wanted to check me for injuries. They made a fuss over my forehead, but by that point it had stopped bleeding and I didn’t feel like I was concussed or dying. One of them waved a short white wand in front of my face, I assumed just to be annoying, while the other focused on bandaging me up.
The wand finally held still between my eyes, and the medic mage whispered a few words of power. There was a bright flash of light and the pain in my noggin shifted into a warmer, more comfortable feeling. I wasn’t sure if it was just a spell to ease the pain or an actual healing spell, but I wasn’t about to complain.
Once the medics were convinced both Parker and I were all right, we were ushered to one of the SUVs by two battle mages. Parker and I took the back seat and the mages took the middle one. Two more soldiers took the front.
Glancing around, I got the impression these guys were the more experienced of the lot. These few may have been Special Forces after all. It’s hard to tell, but that’s kind of the point.
Once we were headed down the road, Parker asked, “So, you ready to get this thing over with now?”
I stared out the window, not bothering to look at him.
“Come on, Wyatt,” he said, and I could feel his eyes on me. “Axel admitted he killed Kyle.”
“That he did,” I agreed, still not turning toward him. “There’re a few things I want to look into before I make a decision.”
“The sooner you get this over with, the sooner you can go back to your cabin.”
That was true, and as he’d said, Axel had admitted his crime. It was simple, really. Kill my best friend, and as payment, I got to go home. Well, at least until the next time they wanted me to execute someone. But hey, maybe that wouldn’t be for another whole five years.
There was a part of me that just wanted to bail. I could leave Drynwyn on the front steps of the compound, get in my truck, and just go. That was easiest solution. Put this nonsense behind me. But I couldn’t.
Maybe Anthony was right. Maybe I just didn’t want to believe Axel could be guilty of such heinous acts, despite the obvious evidence.
The obvious evidence.
That was the problem, really. Nothing with Axel was ever this straight forward. Something in my gut told me there was more going on here, and I couldn’t walk away until I knew the truth. I owed Axel that much, guilty or not. I needed proof.
Damn it all to hell.
I turned to Parker. “I’m not moving forward with the execution until I’m one hundred percent convinced Axel did what he’s accused of.”
“He admitted it,” Parker repeated.
“Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean anything,” I said, shaking my head. “If it was anyone else, I could take the confession at face value, but this is Axel Gunner we’re talking about.”
“So, you think he’s lying?”
“I know him, Parker. Even after five years, I bet I know him better than anyone. He’s hiding something, and I intend to find out what it is. Especially if it’s a missing child.”
“And the fact the demon said it was sent by Axel doesn’t mean anything to you, either?” Parker said.
“Actually, it does,” I said, feeling the grin spread across my lips. “Right up until that moment, I was just about convinced. But that creature, whatever the hell it was, threw up some mighty big red flags.”
“How do you figure?”
“Well, first of all, you’ve met Axel. You don’t think it’s a little bit odd that a powerful demon beast monster would be doing his bidding? How does Axel Gunner make friends with a creature like that?”
“How does Axel Gunner make friends at all?” Parker said, shrugging. “His magical ability is years ahead of most people your age. It’s not outside of the realm of possibility that he could’ve summoned it from God knows where and bound it with God knows what. And he’s always been an eccentric little shit.”
“Exactly,” I said, nodding. “That thing said Axel wanted me dead.”
“Yeah, so?”
“So, Axel asked me to make lightsaber noises when I cut off his head.” I paused and studied his face to see if he was keeping up. “Do you see where I’m going with this?”
“I’m not following you at all,” Parker said, shaking his head. “What the hell does lightsaber noises have to do with anything?”
“Everything,” I said, laughing with frustration. I glanced back out the window. “If Axel Gunner enthralled a monster somehow, it wouldn’t just tell me Axel wanted me dead. He’d demand it do something stupid, like, make Chewbacca noises, wear a Gandalf costume, or do an interpretive dance of the Ninja Turtles.”
There was a long pause, and I turned back to find Parker staring at me with one eyebrow cocked. “So, the confession isn’t enough to convince you, nor the obvious evidence, but you’re prepared to put this whole show on hold because the monster who tried to kill you seemed…too normal.”
“Well, when you put it that way…”
“It sounds ridiculous,” he said, shaking his head.
“But it’s Axel,” I replied, turning back to my window. “You have to admit it makes sense.”
There was another pause, then Parker sighed and said, “The Archmage isn’t going to like this.”
***
As soon as we walked into the compound, Parker was called into a meeting and I was asked to wait in a boring little foyer room. I could only assume the bigwigs wanted a first-hand account of the attack from the Shamus before getting my take. Made sense. He was more respectable and all that. Which, when you think about it, is exactly why they shouldn’t have left me alone.
It was just the chance I needed to escape.
I knew no one would support my ‘the monster wasn’t crazy enough’ theory. In fact, I had a good feeling the Archmage, Grand Enchanter Gunner, and everyone else in the Cabal would think my theory was just as bat shit mad as they thought Axel was. Hell, they might even find a cell to throw me in, just for proposing such a ridiculous theory. So, I needed to scram before my babysitter went back on duty.
I don’t know if they thought I’d be scared to leave after being attacked by an unidentified beast creature, or that I was just mature enough to follow orders, but it was their own fault for not leaving an adult to watch over me.
No one paid me the slightest bit of attention as I strolled purposely toward the front door. Outside, no one stopped me as I pulled my truck out of the drive and the guards monitoring the gate didn’t flag me down. On the contrary, they opened the gate with a friendly wave.
I headed straight for Branson. It was a tourist trap town for sure, but after dark, when the shows were done for the night and the buffets were closed, Branson was a bastion of supernatural activity. Back in the day, my team had worked quite a few cases in the area. I knew my way around, and better, if they were still active, there were people in the underground scene who might be able to provide insight the Cabal couldn’t.
It was still early evening when I found a cheap motel just outside of the Theater District. The rate was only fifty bucks a night, but for an extra fifty, the greasy old fat guy working the counter agreed to take cash and not to write a name down.
After I had my room, I moved my truck a block down the road and parked it in the lot of another cheap motel, one where I doubted they ever checked the license plates of their guests. The Cabal would be looking for my truck, and if they found it, my hope was they’d assume I was staying there.
My next order of business was to get another vehicle. My old beater was a dead giveaway, and knowing the Cabal, they might go so far as to have the human police out scouring the streets for it.
One of the things about being a player in the supernatural
arena is that you learn to always be prepared. That said, I wasn’t really an active ‘player’ in the supernatural arena anymore, so I was anything but prepared. I’d been smart enough to grab a few hundred bucks in cash, but that was it. I didn’t even own a debit card, and the motel would eat up most of my funds.
Which left me in a pickle when it came to renting a car. At one time, there’d been a lot nearby that would loan you a vehicle for a hundred bucks with a hundred-dollar deposit, no questions asked. The cars were crummy and likely stolen, but that was what the ‘no questions’ policy was for.
In the end, I purchased an old Huffy bicycle from a nearby pawn shop. The guy had wanted fifty, but I worked him down to thirty. Guess it was just my lucky day.
It took me a few minutes, but once I remembered how to ride a bicycle, I headed to the nearest fast food joint and bought a couple of sloppy burgers from the value menu. Then I pedaled my happy ass back to the motel.
Before indulging in my greasy dinner, I took the time to build a magical veil over my own aura, hoping it might help conceal me from the Cabal’s Trackers. Knowing it wouldn’t be enough, I used the complimentary motel pen to scribble a few sigils I knew on the door and fired them to life. Depending on how bad they wanted to find me, I knew that wouldn’t be enough, either. I’ve never been the best at making wards or veils.
If I’m being honest, I was never a particularly strong mage in any facet. I had the raw power, more than most, but I’d never settled into any particular skillset. Every mage is different. Everyone one has different strengths and weaknesses. Except me, that is. I mostly just had weaknesses. I could derail a train with the energy at my disposal, but I couldn’t complete complex spells. I couldn’t focus my gift in to any particular style, like most mages.
In school, Axel had studied very little, but had excelled. He was a jack-of-all-trades kind of wizard. Magic just came easy to him. I, on the other hand, had taken my studies very seriously, yet had barely scraped by. By the time you finish the Cabal’s basic wizard school, you’re supposed to have figured out your proficiencies and continue growing them. That wasn’t the case for me. If I hadn’t put in the work, I wouldn’t have even passed. I’d be little more than a hedge witch instead of an actual wizard.
Once I was done with my half-assed attempt at hiding, I chomped down my dinner, then crawled into bed, hoping to catch a few hours of sleep before I went out on the prowl.
Chapter 7
A voice spoke into my mind.
I sat up in bed, noting the darkness around me, sure I’d heard someone. I glanced around, peering at the shadows until I was sure I was alone.
“Wyatt,” a voice said in my head.
I’m not too proud to admit I jumped, realizing only a moment later the voice was indeed coming from inside my own head. It may sound strange to most folks, but wizards have a way of communicating telepathically, kind of a mind to mind connection sort of thing. The closer I was to another mage physically, and the tighter my relationship to them was, the better the connection.
The problem with this particular scenario was that I didn’t know who the hell had just said my name, though their voice was somewhat familiar.
“I know you can hear me, Wyatt,” the voice said.
“Uh, hey,” I said, then it clicked. Oh, shit.
It was the Archmage.
I rubbed my tired eyes and said, “Sorry, I was catching a nap.”
“I apologize for disturbing you, then,” he said, his voice passive.
“How are you mind-speaking to me?” I asked, glancing around again, just to ensure I was truly alone.
The Arcmage chuckled. “There’s much you still don’t understand, young Master Draven. I have the ability to communicate with almost any mage in the Cabal, regardless of the distance.”
Woah. I found myself wondering, and not for the first time, just how powerful the Arch Magus could really be. At best, there was only a handful of people I could communicate with, and I needed to be relatively close to them physically. The Archmage had just suggested he could reach any mage in the Cabal, just about anywhere. I’d heard rumors some mages were strong enough to communicate across continents, but we wizards tend to keep our secrets, so I’d never confirmed if that was true.
“And, because of our stations, you and I have a particularly strong bond, whether you realize it or not, Blade Mage.”
I did not, in fact, realize that.
He continued, “Yet, I can’t quite pinpoint your exact location.”
That didn’t make sense. There was no way my pathetic little veils could hide me from him.
“I guess you’ve discovered the sword’s ability to hide you, then,” he said in an approving tone. “And there I was worried you hadn’t taken the time to learn what Drynwyn can do.”
What?! The sword was veiling me from the Archmage? I had no idea it could do that. No point in admitting it, though.
“And it seems you’ve learned how to veil it from eyesight as well,” he said. “I was impressed when I heard you entered the compound with it strapped to your back, yet the others were blind to it. You fooled Parker Grimm and the lot of them. No easy feat. Only Marius knew you carried it. That’s quite good.”
“It’s not a normal veil spell,” I said, finally joining the conversation.
“No, it’s not,” he agreed. “There’s still a great many things you have to learn about Claíomh Solais, Wyatt. It will teach you in time. That is, if you let it.”
The subtext was clear, but I didn’t bother to respond. Also, I was surprised to hear him use the sword’s other name. Claíomh Solais. That’s what the Irish had called it. The Danes had referred to it as Skofnung. It was the Welsh who’d called it Drynwyn, which meant ‘White Hilt.’ Who knew what other names it may have held in other times and places? Who knew what else it could teach me? Other than the Archmage, apparently.
After a moment, he said, “Wyatt, I would like for you to return to the compound.”
It was a simple statement, and his voice remained passive, but it was an order just the same. Not a kind suggestion, but a directive. It may have been wrapped in silk, but it was delivered on the edge of a razor.
I paused for a moment, trying to think of something clever to say. Finally, I just sighed and said, “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“I understand your feelings on the matter,” he said, still calm and reasonable. “I can understand why you’re hesitant to move forward with your duty, but as I understand it, Axel Gunner has admitted his crime and taken full responsibility.”
“That’s true,” I agreed. “But it all feels a bit too convenient for me. My gut tells me there’s more here we don’t know.”
“Your gut,” the Archmage repeated back to me. “Wyatt, we’ve had our best Sleuths and Shamuses go over every detail. All evidence suggests that Axel is telling the truth. Should we derail his punishment because his childhood friend’s gut thinks there’s more to the story?”
“I know how it sounds,” I said.
“And Parker shared your theory about the monster being too normal. Is that truly a basis on which to make sound judgment?”
I choked down an angry retort and thought through what I wanted to say. I’d known this conversation was coming, but I figured it wouldn’t be until the Cabal caught up with me. And I definitely didn’t think I’d be having it with the Archmage himself. This was like getting a call from the President because you had a yard sale without getting a permit.
“And why can’t the execution be held off?” I asked. “Why does it have to be immediate?”
“The Cabal needs to make a statement. We need people to know we aren’t weak. We need them to know we’ll dole out justice to our own if they break the Solemn Covenant.”
“Then why not just do it?” I asked, my frustration getting the better of me. “Why have me brought in? Did you really think I would kill my best friend for you? After all this time?”
“You have a duty, do you not?” he
asked. “Did that change in these past few years, or do you still hold the sword?”
“But why now?” I asked, shaking my head even though I was alone. “Why wait until this incident came up to have me assume my role? Why ask me to execute my best friend?”
There was a moment of silence, then he said, “I could ask you why you waited until now to assume your role, couldn’t I? No one told you to leave, Wyatt Draven. You made that decision.”
“No one wanted me to stay,” I said, the years of bitterness pouring from me. “You never wanted me to be the Blade Mage. No one did. That much was clear.”
“We could argue over this endlessly,” he said, still keeping his calm. “But let me ask you this, Wyatt… What would your father say, hmm? What would he want you to do?”
Somehow I knew my father would get thrown in my face.
I fought back against the rage boiling in my mind. Held back from screaming every obscenity at him and his damned Cabal.
Taking a deep breath, I steadied myself, and did as he suggested. I thought about my old man and what he’d think about all this. What would he say?
When I had the answer, I replied, “My father would tell me to trust my instincts. He’d tell me to make sure I had it right before I agreed to take a man’s life. That’s what he’d say. Don’t you agree, Archie?”
“Perhaps,” he said, and I thought I caught the faintest hint of a chuckle in his voice. “And what is that you intend to do, exactly?”
I stumbled, unsure what to say. It was like I’d hit a roadblock in my own head. It was crucial that I steer the narrative in the right direction, but as he was waiting for my reply, I couldn’t think of anything clever to say.
“You don’t have a plan, do you?” the Archmage asked. He managed the question without a hint of the deserved patronization.
“Have we identified the monster that attacked us?” I asked, stalling for time.
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