by Mark Tufo
“Potentially I could, but beacons of light would still be popping out through the top, and this spell is different; it appears to be hanging in the air. I would not be able to create a new cloak until hers dissipated.”
“We must stop,” Kalandar said. “I need to perform a ritual.” He shed his disguise.
I looked over to Azile; at this point, what did we have to lose? The demon put a grateful Oggie down. He clasped his hands over his head; a red energy crackled through and around his fingers. He strained as he pulled his hands apart, and the power stretched like a thick taffy. Small red shards splintered off and fell to the ground where they continued to glow, not burn. As his outstretched arms moved parallel to the ground, the energy split and surrounded us like we were in a canary cage–or a Faraday cage, more like. The yellow of Halifax’s spell crashed into the bars of Kalandar’s creation. There was a sizzle, like bacon being fried, though the smell was more of the ozone variety, not wholly unwelcome, sort of like the effects of a cooling thunderstorm during a hot summer night.
Sparks were shooting away from us like we were a transformer about to blow. We could hear the cries of warriors; perhaps we weren’t personally visible but our fireworks display was. I watched the light show as Kalandar’s magic burned through Halifax’s, or most of it. I could see tendrils of her spell leaking through, and each time they touched Azile’s protective cloak, it glowed a dull orange. Looked almost like blips on a radar screen. Kalandar was straining; veins nearly as thick as my forearm stood out upon his neck. More and more blips began to strike our shield. I could see them hitting like raindrops on a dome and then cascading down the side, stripping away our protection with each wet touch.
Anger began to flood in and through me. If she had been anywhere within sight I would have taken off toward her, rifle blazing. Fuck magic, I was going to go with the more traditional lead insertion. I was angry we were being hunted; I was angry those I loved were in danger; I was angry they wanted to kill me; hell, I was angry I could no longer get a Red Robin cheeseburger. I’m not entirely sure what I was thinking when I reached out and touched the small of Kalandar’s back; all I know was he went as rigid as a board. A deep magenta cloud burst forth from his cage and shot out as if a bomb had been dropped. Fried air hung thick and all was quiet.
“What did you do?” Azile asked looking around where tiny purple drops were falling. I’d like to say, “Like purple rain,” but that phrase has been taken.
“I…I don’t know.” I was looking at my hands as if they had betrayed me.
“I have never felt anything like that.” Kalandar sagged after the release of so much power.
“Did I hurt you?” I asked.
“I am fine; I was merely a conduit.”
“What have you done?!” Halifax screamed out.
“Hell if I know,” I answered, though much more quietly; I doubt she heard me.
“Mike, I can’t do any magic–” Azile seemed panicked. That was sort of like a fish suddenly unable to swim.
Kalandar placed his hands over his head. “Nothing…neither can I.” He seemed exhausted; his arms fell rather than were brought down.
Halifax screamed in rage.
“I’m going to go out on a limb and say she can’t either,” I said.
“Can you?” She was looking at me.
“I have no idea…I didn’t know I could do it before. I wouldn’t even know what to look for or what to do.”
“What were you thinking when you touched Kalandar?”
I thought before answering. It was more of an emotion, an urge, than a deliberate thought. “I was thinking I was fucking sick of magic.”
“Interesting,” Kalandar noted.
“We should get going.” Azile took a baby and we started moving away.
“It’s not permanent, is it?” I asked.
“I don’t believe so; likely it is a product of your colorful precipitation. Once we are free from it, we should be fine. Once we’re out of here, we are going to have to dive a little deeper into what you can and can’t do. Cutting witches and sorcerers off from the source is no easy feat and is generally reserved for beings many magnitudes of order higher than us.”
We were moving fast, away from Halifax and the majority of the Landians but not from all of them. We came upon a line of them a dozen strong, watching this area of the woods. Somehow, we surprised them more than they did us. Kalandar had snatched one up and had the man hanging upside down by his right leg. I handed MJ off to Azile and trained my rifle on another.
“How do you want to play this?” I asked the one I had the rifle on. “Before you answer I want you to know that your all-powerful shaman has been completely neutralized. The Red Witch here has completely stripped her of her powers. We don’t want to, but we will kill every one of you. There are too many deeds left undone for us to end here.”
“Our chieftess commanded either we capture or kill you; there is no room for negotiation.”
“Don’t make me do this.”
“There is no other way,” he said as he nodded. A spear whistled toward Kalandar; he deftly snagged it out of the air with his free hand. He’d no sooner stopped the flint-tipped stick when I put a bullet into the neck and throat area of the Landian squad leader. His head cranked to the side, blood erupted as he fell to the dirt.
Kalandar snapped the man he was holding like a person does a wet towel; there was a small ripple from his knee to his thigh that exaggerated as it moved to his torso by the time it got to his head, the ripple had increased to over three feet wide, making his head crash into the ground with enough force to split his skull wide open. Brain matter spewed forth from the gaping wound. Kalandar dropped the limp body and repositioned the spear. He sent it back to its owner twice as fast as it had come; it blew through his chest plate and pinned him to a tree. I gut shot the next Landian; he dropped to his knees, hands splayed over the wound before I drilled him in the forehead.
They had moved out of spear throwing range but were close enough to fire arrows. Two were hastily shot and landed nowhere near, but this was my children and my woman they were firing on; that was not going to work for me. If they weren’t convinced they needed to kill me, I was going to give them a solid reason. I moved with a speed afforded to me, all the while leading with bullets. Ten steps straight ahead, put four rounds into a woman preparing to fire; she spun and planted an arrow at her feet. I turned, took five more steps, three more shots, another Landian fell. Fifteen more steps, I drove the buttstock of my weapon into and through the orbital socket of another one. I could see his eyeball rupture; viscous fluid burst out in a circle from the point of contact. Kalandar was a hard target to miss and had taken two arrows, one to the side, the other high up on his chest. He was busy exacting his own revenge. He picked up the man that shot him and swung him like a baseball bat into another warrior; the collision of bodies and the resultant explosion of bones breaking dominated all sound.
We had killed half of them in under thirty seconds and still they would not break and run. At this point, it was a safe bet to say they weren’t going to, either. A warrior had advanced on Azile and the children, war axe raised. I had him in my sights, but Oggie interceded, getting in the way of a clean shot. The large dog had bristled; the man had turned his attention to the much more significant threat.
“First me, then my wife and kids, and now my dog? Fuck you.” I pulled the trigger. The top of his scalp blew up and to the side; his brain glistened in a spot of sun that shone down through the leaves. Oggie turned back to me; I swear if he could have talked he would have told me he had the situation handled. I blew through the rest of my magazine taking out two more Landians. There’ve been a lot of times where I’ve been angry, a lot of times where I’ve been scared, a few times where I’ve been both angry and scared. But right then…I honestly don’t think I have ever been so blindingly furious in my entire life. I tossed my rifle to the side and pulled my axe free from my thigh holster. The last warrior le
ft saw me coming. My chest was heaving, the axe down by my leg as I came at him. I saw his cheeks puff as he took a breath, drew back his bow and fired. I barely took notice of the arrow that was sticking out of my thigh.
Hurt like hell, and I could feel my muscles shredding with every step. Did not stop me. He had just nocked the next when I struck. I brought my axe hand up from the side and planted the blade up under his rib cage. I quickly pulled it free and swung over my head, shattering his shoulder and collarbone. He cried out as I once again removed the blade, and this time I spun the handle so I could strike with the heavy, flat part, which I brought over my head and crashed down onto his skull. His knees buckled and down he went.
“Motherfucker!” I yelled as I gripped the arrow and yanked it free.
“Are you all right?” Kalandar asked as he plucked the two arrows free from himself like they were bothersome splinters. If he even winced, it was on the inside.
“I will be. How about you?”
“They did not penetrate far.”
Azile came over and checked on my wound. I could tell she wanted to be angry for my foolhardiness, but it was relief that won out once she realized I wasn’t going to die. She had a hand against my chest, her head slightly down.
“Never did I think it would come to this.” She swept her gaze along the line of dead Landian warriors. “We have lost some of our closest allies.”
“Will this mean repercussions for Talboton?” I asked.
“Eventually it could. I do not believe Halifax a good candidate for all the power gifted to her. More likely, the Landians will be warring with themselves soon enough.”
“She’s going to want Inuktuk’s job,” I said.
Azile nodded. “She won’t want to stop there, either.”
“Should we finish her now?” Kalandar looked back the way we had come.
“We are both still without the ability to tap into the source, and there are too many warriors between here and there. We have children, and Michael has absolutely no clue as to what or how he has done what he has done. Not the optimum time for a fight.”
The shots and the commotion should have been enough to bring more Landians to us, but perhaps the sight of all their dead is what prevented them from pursuing. We were out of Landian territory by that night–that didn’t mean we were safe; it wasn’t like they couldn’t keep following, but it sure did feel safer, like perhaps we had crossed over the Berlin wall and into West Berlin, when that was still a thing.
“I may need my wounds tended to.” Kalandar sat down hard. The front of his tunic was doused in red.
“Shit Kal, why didn’t you say something?” I pulled his shirt off; his chest was bathed in a thick layer of blood.
“Michael, could you clean him up?”
I grabbed one of the babies’ towels…like trying to clean a picnic table with a wet nap.
“Sorry,” I said when I unintentionally slid over one of the wounds. “Thought you said they weren’t deep?” I was looking straight down into one of them, looked like a Florida sinkhole.
“You did not seem too distressed about your wound; I did not wish to be outdone by a human.”
“Machismo? Are you kidding me? You do realize that I’m a self-healing vamp-demon, right?”
“That fact had slipped my mind.”
Azile was busy creating a poultice while also saying some words of power over the ingredients. “This will help with the pain and speed the healing process,” she said as she applied the plant packets onto him. “There are strips of cloth in the baby backpack; you’re going to have to tie a few together so we can wrap him.”
“On it,” I told her. The packs had been dropped on the far side of where we were setting up for the night. I quickly went over and rummaged through, finding what I needed.
“Do not be in such a rush to go back, Tallboat,” Linnick said.
“Huh?”
“These ears I find myself with…I can pivot them in nearly any direction and they are far better organs than the ones I used to possess. Your wife and the demon are talking about you.”
I looked over. Azile was strategically placed so that all I could see was her back, she was in front of Kalandar’s head.
“What are they saying? They planning on running off together? Fine, let them. But the dog stays with me.”
“If you will be quiet, I will tell you.”
“Sorry, just sounded like the beginning of an awful country song.”
“Tallboat!” Linnick snapped.
“‘It was no secret Lamashtu wished the demise of your husband,’ that’s Kalandar speaking,” Linnick said. “Now it appears that Gabriel does as well; the question begs, why?’”
“I’m not even going to speculate at how Azile replied to him. She is speaking too softly.”
“That is fair enough. ‘You do not trust me enough to speak your mind, but you need to ask yourself why he is so important? Why do both sides wish him removed from the battlefield?’”
“Oh, she’s talking louder, ‘You’re right. I have my reservations regarding you and I also have some ideas about my husband. What of you, Kalandar? What do you believe and what actions are you thinking upon taking?’”
“‘If both sides wish him out of the conflict, then there are only two possibilities. The first is that he walks the line between both and could be the deciding factor on which side wins, or he may destroy both sides simultaneously. Either way, I would like to stay as close to him as possible and witness history in the making.’”
“‘You would not attempt to stop him?’”
“‘I owe no allegiance to any of my overlords, if that is what you are asking. The underworld does not foster devotion. It has always been every demon for himself. That is not to say there is not camaraderie amongst some, but to those in power? No, we comply purely out of fear of reprisal. If I had my choice, it would be that he defeats them both.’”
Azile looked guiltily away when I came up next to her.
“Got the bandages,” I said.
Kalandar leaned up and I wrapped him tightly.
“That is much better. I am going to rest now.” He was asleep within minutes.
“How you doing?” I asked Azile while we sat and tended to the kids.
She looked up. “I’m worried, Mike. There’s so much going on we don’t understand. I don’t like that everyone we know has either turned us away or wants you dead.”
“Naw, that’s not true! There’s you, the kids, Oggie, Linnick and Kalandar, Mathieu, and all of Talboton still with me, with us.”
“And all of Denarth, Landia, the Lycan, the Underworld and the Heavens against.”
“Well, when you say it like that, it is troubling.”
“Troubling?” she shouted loudly enough she upset a drifting-off Alianna. “I wonder if there’s a reward? I could be set for my rather extended life.”
“Yeah, but what fun would that life be? It would get so boring.”
“That is something I don’t have to worry about with you around.” She smiled, letting the concern that creased the corners of her eyes soften.
“Do you have any clue what is going on?” I asked.
“Besides everyone wanting you dead? Not really. I love you, Mike, with all my heart, but sometimes I wish I had let you live your life in your brother’s basement. You would have been better off.” She leaned her head against my shoulder.
“Oh, what I was doing was far from living. And I love a lot about this life right now! I mean, there’s the kids, there’s Oggie, even Linnick, who thinks I’m on par with a cave troll.” I caressed the side of her face.
“And?” she asked.
“Well, Kalandar’s alright, but it’s tough to get all warm and fuzzy about a fifteen-foot demon.”
“My spells work again.”
“And of course, you, my love, for without you, none of it is worthwhile.”
“Nice save.”
“I was saving the best for last.”
&nbs
p; “Getting a little thick in here.”
I kissed her.
Chapter 17
Two Old Men
The old and tired men sat across from each other, the round, smooth-surfaced marble table the only thing between them.
“It has been a long time since I have seen you,” the man on the right said. His long hair and beard rippled, though no wind was present. His eyes were bloodshot–as if he had been crying or not sleeping or, possibly, both.
“You don’t look good,” the other responded. The man across from him appeared unkempt, while he was freshly shaved and had a slicked-back haircut. He wore a dark suit in direct contrast to the flowing robes of the bearded man. On the outside, they appeared to be as different from each other as possible, but there was a connection there, respect, and maybe the lingering traces of love.
“I could say the same about you. The eyes do not lie.”
“What are you calling yourself these days?”
“‘Maker’ works.”
“Really? Seems like that stage of life might be long past you. I prefer Jinn, if it matters.”
“Are you going to end this?” Maker asked.
“I am attempting to do so.”
“Then why is it not done? You rule there; do you not? Are you not omnipresent?”
“Do not speak to me of omnipresence. I seem to remember a time not so long ago, by our standards, when there was open rebellion in your own home! And you? You remained somehow unaware of it until it was nearly too late. Even then, I had to intervene.”
Maker had been leaning forward; he sat back and sighed. “You’re right. You and I perhaps are growing too old, too feeble.”
“Do not give up on me yet, Old Man. I could not stand it if I had to deal with that insufferable Michael! Why you appointed him head of your angels, I do not know. He wants nothing more than to kill anything that offers him resistance.”
“He had a place.”
“Had,” Jinn emphasized. “Once you created your world and those in your image, that was when you should have stepped away. But you couldn’t. You let curiosity–hell, your ego–get in the way. You gave man free will, and it was all downhill from there. Your hubris led you to believe that you could control and somehow steer what was a sinking ship. Religion? Really? Did you think to control them through worship? And to collar them with souls….You should have just wiped the world clean and started over–that would have been for the best. Or better yet, not re-create it–leave it in ashes. I never understood your need to tinker with creation. Was what you had not good enough?” Jinn looked truly saddened. He reached across the table and grabbed the other man’s hand.