by J. P. Rice
With no time to spare, I quickly booted the men carrying Owen, causing them to drop his body. Tremors of terror made my arms and legs go numb as more guards rushed into the front of the building, making escape impossible. If they caught me and took me to Arawn, the former Celtic God would surely put me to death. Unfortunately, my options had run out.
An idea hit me, wading through my confused and panicked state to come front and center. I recast the invisibility spell over Owen. Bits of glittery enchantment danced around his unresponsive body, sinking into his fur to complete the spell. Within seconds, his body disappeared.
A few guards still had hold of him, so I kicked their hands away from my friend and hoisted him up over my shoulder. I moved to an empty area near the entrance that wasn’t teeming with guards and waited impatiently as a procession of tall men filtered in through the front door.
The confused men shouted at each other, wondering what the hell had just happened. A leader took charge and instructed smaller teams to branch out and search different areas of the building. I bounced up and down on the balls of my feet, hoping the spells would last so that I could wait this out and then escape easily.
I was initially surprised that Arawn hadn’t come out of his office, but I realized he was probably protecting the spear. He likely thought there was an intruder coming after his precious spear.
I noticed the guards had moved away from the front door and I migrated toward freedom.
My shoes squeaked on the floor, but the guards were making enough noise that they couldn’t hear. As I approached the door, it flung open toward me, almost smacking me in the face. I hooked the door with my foot before it could shut and a cold blast of winter hit me, sending a nasty chill down my spine.
As I moved outside, the lamps around the parking lot highlighted guards stationed at various points around the building. As quietly as I could, I carried Owen’s heavy body across the entrance of the building. I smelled freedom when a scream that sounded like it had come from the depths of hell rent the winter air.
I spun around, wondering if my spell had worn off and I was now visible. There stood Arawn, his massive chest heaving in and out, breath clouds shrouding his figure. He leaned forward and pulled the sides of his hood snug against his angular facial features, his burning yellow eyes piercing the darkness of night. His wolf-skin cloak was clasped around his neck by rusted silver chains and swept the snowy ground as he took two steps forward.
A pale sliver of moonlight cast down upon his face, revealing the Celtic rune symbols covering most of his flesh. His ghostly white skin was barely visible among the jungle of black tattoos. His eyes narrowed and his head swiveled forcefully from side to side, searching for Owen and me.
I exhaled a sigh of relief and realized my invisibility spell included breath clouds. Lucky me, since I hadn’t thought about that and could have been a sitting duck.
I carried Owen across the entranceway. After a pulse-pounding escape, we passed the parking gate and were on the outside again. I set down Owen’s body to set a new plan. Nothing rushed into my head as I stretched out my tired muscles, preparing for the second leg of this trip.
I ran over and grabbed our coats from the tree branch where we had stashed them. Due to the strong chill in the air, I slid my arms into the sleeves of my leather jacket and zipped it up. I dusted the snow off Owen’s trench coat and suit jacket and hung them over my shoulder.
Owen needed eight hours to recover from death. I’d seen it before and didn’t understand it, but that was how it worked. I thought about going back to Mount Rainier to get advice from Johnny Tango, but it was such a long hike that I scratched the idea immediately.
I remembered a small wooded area we had passed on our way to the silo and figured that would be the best place to duck out for a while. I slung Owen over my shoulder again and walked down the side of a narrow road.
As we moved carefully toward the woods, I thought about what I had heard about Lugh’s Spear. As previously rumored, it was in two pieces, forcing Arawn to go to Pittsburgh to buy the other half. But from whom? I didn’t know the location or time of the deal, but I had to find out whom Arawn was making a deal with.
I needed to get back to Pittsburgh and put my ear to the streets. Somebody had to know who had the other half of the spear. I had an idea about finding the culprit, but it involved my dead friend whom I set down again as we entered the woods. As I stretched out my back, leaves rustled in the near distance and I craned my neck to see who it was.
The dark shadows twisted under the naked tree branches as a thin cloud floated in front of the moon. Nothing came to the fore, and the sound stopped. A rotten feeling took form in the pit of my stomach. Something wasn’t right. I scanned the area again, but couldn’t see anyone, not even an animal.
From behind a bush, I caught a flash of amethyst. I zeroed in on it, and as it took shape, my heart sank into my shoes. The Bounty Huntress’s afro. I was in her territory now. Fook.
I scooped up Owen and headed up a slight hillock with my calves and thighs burning. Knowing the Huntress could easily catch up, I tried to devise a quick plan. She and her associates would kill Owen just for being with me. I couldn’t let that happen. If they killed him, that would be his last life.
I walked into a slight clearing with a big pile of leaves and brush. Panic snaked through my body as I realized what I needed to do. I set Owen down near the pile and placed his coat over his body. Using the leaves and brush, I covered him up as best I could. Satisfied he wouldn’t be found, I strolled leisurely down the hill.
I couldn’t rely on the invisibility. Under the spell, I could still see my body. Without Owen, I didn’t know if I was visible and I couldn’t outrun her carrying a heavy body. I had to sacrifice myself to save Owen.
These assholes could take a spin with me, but they weren’t getting my friend. Perhaps I could kill the damned Huntress once and for all. I readied my magic and felt it bubbling under my skin as I continued down the hill.
A shrill voice cut through the freezing night, “Prepared to turn yourself in?”
Within the blink of an eye, the Huntress and three associates emerged from behind a tree trunk. I tried sizing up her help as the three men branched out, attempting to surround me. My eyes darted back and forth and I sniffed the air to see if they possessed magic.
The three men were dressed in black skintight suits with connected hoods. It resembled an Olympic skier’s outfit and only left their eyes, noses and mouths visible.
I smelled an herbaceous scent, and quickly narrowed it down to a member of the mint family. Basil. An Italian hit squad?
Practitioners used basil in a lot of fire spells, and I noticed the men’s hands were glowing red. I put my hand behind my back and conjured an invisible sword, as the men maneuvered around to keep me surrounded. I felt the grip in my hand and twisted my wrist, turning the blade, so I could slice the gentleman on my right in half.
I was about to unleash a mighty stroke of the sword when I caught a flash of silver out of my peripheral and turned naturally to check it out. As soon as I realized it was the barrel of a gun, the Huntress pulled the trigger from point-blank range.
I dropped the sword and prepared the dodge the shot, but it was already too late. A purple projectile exited the barrel and raced toward my heart. My muscles tensed as the pellet hit my chest and splattered purple paint all over my black leather jacket.
I looked down as my hand started to disappear and I got woozy. My mental faculties became clouded, and I felt a tremendous amount of pressure on my skull. Nauseated, I tried to fight off the cement mixer feeling in my stomach, when the world went dark.
My eyelids blinked open, revealing a dark cave. In a flash, the Bounty Huntress began to materialize in front of me. I turned to my right and located a small opening in the wall.
“Don’t even try it,” warned the Huntress. “The Lair of Justice is well protected. It’s over, bitch. I’ll collect my due. You will die while thos
e you stole from watch your demise. Everyone is happy.”
I said nothing. I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction.
“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” she asked and cackled. “Do you know where that saying originated?”
“Don’t care.”
Her insult reminded me of my last act on earth. Saving Owen. At least I’d ended things on a noble note.
The Huntress whistled and said, “You’re going to hear it anyway. In ancient Egypt, they would cut out the tongues of the blasphemers and feed them to cats. Perhaps we should do the same for you. Make yourself comfortable. You aren’t going anywhere.”
I knew nobody escaped from the Lair. I knew they decided the outcome of the trials before they even started. They had never deemed anyone innocent. Death was the only punishment served down here. The magic council was more of a hit squad than a judicial body.
The Huntress grabbed a torch from the wall and led me into another empty room carved out of stone with a post stretching from the floor to the ceiling. Two men in black robes entered the room and moved me in front of the post. They tied my ankles first, then pulled my hands around the post, tying my wrists behind me. The Huntress stood with her arms crossed over her chest and sported the smuggest look I’d ever seen. Even her stupid purple hair was smirking at me.
She waited until the men finished and left the room. As soon as the last man disappeared into the darkness, she rejoiced, “What a great day this is.”
I warned, “The Celtic Gods won’t be happy about this.”
She scoffed, “Please. You’re not part of the pantheon. In fact, I’ve heard rumors that the Gods don’t even like you.”
I tried to scare her. “Well, you’ve heard wrong. Example A. Machu Picchu. In fact, they are mulling me as an option to take Maeve’s spot in the pantheon. They won’t take this lightly. They will go to the other pantheons and shut you guys down. None of the Gods really care about your little secret police service. The script would be flipped, and you would be the one on the run.”
“They wouldn’t shut us down. The J.J.E. wouldn’t let that happen. I’m not letting you mess with my head. I’m getting my paperwork in order so I can collect the second they kill you.” She snagged the torch off the wall and squeezed sideways through a small opening in the wall.
As the light faded to black, they left me alone with my thoughts in the darkest room I’d ever been in. The lingering stench of death hung heavy in the thick air. Why hadn’t I thought about her following me out to Seattle? Why didn’t I stay in Hilton Head? Why didn’t that spell work on Owen?
The putrid stench of body odor attacked my nose and I knew it could only mean one wizard. It was hundreds, nay, thousands of years of built-up funk. A specific brand of cumin-dashed pungency that made one go cross-eyed.
The J.J.E.
Firelight illuminated one of the narrow openings in the wall. A hairy arm holding a torch emerged first, followed by a potbelly covered in burgundy robes. A plump face appeared from behind the flames. Reddened cheeks merged into a beard as white as freshly driven snow that fell to the middle of his chest.
Silver hair parted directly in the center cascaded down his back, stopping around his hips. He smiled widely as he eyeballed me creepily.
He tapped his chin with his sausage-shaped index finger as words spilled from his crusty, white lips, “My, my, what have we here? One of the top outlaws on our wanted list. Worry not. You shall receive a fair trial. As Judge, Jury and Executioner, you have my word on that.” His smile melted into his natural frown.
“I should have let you die back at Machu Picchu,” I said.
His angry scowl continued taking form, his cheeks and forehead wrinkling deeply. “Well, you didn’t. Machu Picchu proved one thing to me and the Gods. You were and still are a great danger to everyone including yourself.”
“And yet, I still saved your sorry ass. Why are you trying to piss off the Celtic Gods?” I asked, hoping to spook him.
He gazed around the room, his wandering moss green eyes finally focusing on me. “Oh, I hardly think they shall be offended. I’m fighting the war they are afraid to fight. Likely, they’ll thank me.”
I knew it would be hard to rile up one of the most powerful wizards of all-time, but his calm demeanor put me even more on edge. I said, “I seriously doubt that. And you aren’t fighting a war. You’re taking out your frustrations because I...”
Merlin cut me off. “A wise woman minds her lips and tongue. Regarding all occasions and situations. Wasted advice seeing as you’ll be dead soon.”
I chuckled. “I thought you said I was guaranteed a fair trial.”
“You are. As we converse, my servants are mounting their hides, readying to bring back the witnesses. Most of your victims will be here soon enough. One of them actually works for us. You’ve been accused by more than twenty beings. All the same story. The exact same story and the exact same scars.”
He tapped his bearded chin inquisitively and squinted. “But you say, you didn’t do it. If that were true, your arm would bear not a single scar. Shall we have a see?”
I remained silent, stewing. I didn’t have a defense. They had tied me against the post in all my clothes, including my leather jacket. In their haste, they hadn’t even confiscated my phone and wallet. Still, they would eventually expose my scars for all to see.
“Aahh. Slapped by that cruel mistress known as silence,” he said and paced in front of me. “Oh, what could have been if it weren’t for creatures like you. Magic was only to be used for pure purposes. We were in the midst of striking a deal with the demons to stop using dark forces. Then, Machu Picchu happened. And the never-ending war of magic continued. Dark versus pure.”
Merlin explained it as if I hadn’t been there and saved his ass from being squashed. My father and a slew of Gods from various pantheons were trying to strike a peace deal between the Seelie and Unseelie courts when all hell had broken loose.
He cleared his throat and continued, “I, of course, championed the elimination of dark magic. I put together the original force to combat it.”
I said, “There he is. The high and mighty Merlin. Thanks for the lecture, but you should just go ahead and kill me.”
“I wasn’t quite finished,” he told me as he stared into the flames of his torch. “Pure magic passes through the worthy entity, leaving no everlasting effects. Dark magic on the other hand, latches onto you, polluting your soul for all of eternity. When consumed in abundance, the results can be lethal.”
“Whatever, you fooking hypocrite.”
“Excuse me?” he asked, eyes blinking rapidly.
“Oh, please. You look down on me, but you have demon blood running through your system too.”
Merlin exploded, his baritone voice bouncing off the walls of the small room, “Which is precisely why I understand it to be so dangerous. I fight against the darkness every day.”
He marched up to me with the torch next to his head. His sour, yeasty breath hit me as he opened his mouth and said, “So I am certain that the amount of dark blood coursing through your veins and arteries is an outright danger to society. You can’t control it. I’ve seen and heard the stories of your destruction.”
He was right. I wanted to be good. It just wasn’t in my blood.
I stretched my neck and told him, “Just kill me already. Enough of the song and dance. Then you can run to my mother and tell her all about it.” Brighid oversaw the Supreme Magic Council.
Merlin stared at me coldly, the glossy whites of his eyes reflecting the rippling fire. “But that would be too easy. No. I’m afraid you will have to face the very creatures you stole from. You will be reminded of how awful you truly are before your ultimate demise. Then, your soul will have all of eternity to think about your actions in this life.” He belly laughed demonically.
I wouldn’t grovel before Merlin. It wouldn’t do any good. I stood there tied to a post with my muscles aching and my lips sealed.
Merlin stared at me proudly, like a fourteen-point buck’s head mounted to the wall. I was a trophy to him. He turned on his heel and glided toward the opening in the wall. For an obese man, he was nimble on his feet. The torch disappeared along with Merlin’s robed body, leaving me in darkness again.
Fook that Santa Claus lookalike. Merlin could go straight to hell.
Even though I’d wronged my victims, I couldn’t let them get into my head. I didn’t want to languish as a tortured soul, questioning my worldly motives endlessly. That was exactly what Merlin wanted. I couldn’t let them break me. I had to stand strong and take my medicine.
I did what I had to do. I did what I had to do. I did what I had to do.
Flickering orange flames appeared through the opening in the wall and a big purple afro followed. What did this bitch want?
As the Huntress entered the room, I noticed a tiny figure behind her. She put her hand on his bald head and guided him close to her side. The faint fire exposed a tiny man in dirt-stained white robes. As I focused on his facial features, my heart nearly stopped.
The Bounty Huntress said, “Judging by your bug eyes, I have a feeling you know this person. Haruki hasn’t forgotten you. That’s for sure. He was your first victim, I believe. The Lightning Mage was looked at as a God among his people because of his magical abilities. He planned to use his gifts to stop the brutal war being waged in Japan. His power was unmatched.”
I interrupted her, “If he was so powerful, how could a normal person like me defeat them? It beggars belief, no?”
The Huntress clenched her fist and took a step toward me. “How dare you? You know damn well the Morrigan helped you with your first few victims. Yet you stand here acting helpless. She filled you with more dark blood than you could ever control. And still you consider her your friend. She made you into a ticking time bomb, don’t you see?”
I responded, “You talk a lot of shit down here. But when you saw her on the street, you ran like a coward.”