Everyone started talking at once, and Gill beamed, obviously thrilled to have riled us all up. He refused to explain how he was going to get me all the ‘juice’ I needed, and he insisted on his timetable or something close to it.
Sorcha was the least willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, and everybody else apparently admired him enough to do exactly what he’d said. My instincts told me to trust him.
Before committing myself, though, I whispered in Laura’s ear, “What do you think?”
“I still don’t understand why you have to be the one to fight the bastard, but if Gill is sure you’ll win, I believe him.”
Because I was the one most at risk, I figured that I ought to get to choose. “We’ll do it his way. If he’s wrong, I’m counting on one of you here to kill him for me.”
He cackled like that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. Then he patted me on the back. “That’s my boy.”
-o-o-o-
Denver international Airport, Denver, Colorado
AFTER THE MEETING BROKE up, Laura and I headed back to the airport to pick up Sequoia. I’d expected her to spend the whole time disagreeing with my decision.
When we got to the terminal, she still hadn’t. I asked, “Do you want to hit me with my staff and knock some sense into me?”
She laughed nervously. “Don’t tempt me. I hope you haven’t started to believe that bullshit about being the Chosen One.”
“Nope. People don’t talk like that around me, so there hasn’t been much to hear. If I can beat Escobar, I want to. What he did to my family was unforgivable. But I promised you I wouldn’t take crazy risks.”
She shook her head. “Gill may like to pretend to be crazy, but he knows how to win. He’s figured out a way to make you stronger, and he wanted it to be a big surprise.”
A few minutes later, Sequoia emerged alone from the escalator, and he carried a small bag.
After we hugged him and said hello, I asked, “Did you check another bag?”
He shook his head. “I’m only planning on staying for a few days.”
Our trip back to the ranch was quiet. Sequoia was friendly, but he’d never had been much for small talk. After I asked about how his family was doing, Laura and I brought him up to date with my crazy stuff since we’d last seen him.
He listened and asked few questions. I wasn’t surprised, because he seemed to live in his own little world. But he’d come to try to improve my magic. That was the main thing.
Finally, he said, “I believe that the best way I can help you would be to show you the oldest bristlecone pine. We should be able to share its connection to the gods, and I think that will inspire you for your own meditation later.”
I’d figured he’d approach the problem that way, and I said, “Great, do you know where the old ones are here?”
He nodded. I have a friend within the Department of Interior who told me the location of this tree in confidence. It’s actually in a national forest, a few hours away. We should visit it tomorrow.”
-o-o-o-
Monday, August 5th
IT TOOK US THE better part of the morning to drive south to reach the closest road to an old stand of bristlecone pines. From there we had to bushwhack up a steep hillside to ten thousand feet in elevation. We never would’ve found the right tree without the exact GPS coordinates and a photograph.
The tree was over twenty-four hundred years old, but it didn’t look like much. The trunk was several feet wide at the base but only fifteen feet tall. Most of the tree was dead. A seven-inch-wide strip of bark led to the rocky soil to the single living branch. The tree’s twisted and gnarled wood provided mute testament to the incredible struggle it had endured over the millennia.
These trees weren’t majestic giants like the sequoias or coast redwoods, but the pines could live much longer. As we stood and gazed from a distance, I said, “The magic I received from the trees in California doesn’t do me much good in fighting. It only helps my ward.”
“Diana mentioned that to me when we spoke on the phone,” he said. “This trip will only strengthen your connection with the gods. I can see that you have been making great strides since we last met in connecting to the Infinite. If you can maintain your connection during stressful times, such as a battle, you won’t need a ward to fend off spells.”
That was a big if.
We touched the tree gingerly, grazing our fingers over the dead wood, which was most of the tree. I felt nothing under my fingertips until I brushed them across the strip of living bark. Then magic flowed into me freely.
I sat next to the tree and savored the experience. Sequoia did the same.
After a few minutes, he whispered even though there probably wasn’t another person within miles of us, “Remember, focus on the tree’s connection with the Infinite.”
The tree’s magical power came in the form of warmth, but the connection to the gods was a lower, deeper rumbling. I concentrated on that and felt the pine’s calmness flood through me.
By now, I was used to that connection, and I experienced it most days when I meditated. But I’d never felt it as strongly as at that moment.
A glowing smile came to Sequoia’s face. I could sense his underlying emotions because he was connected to the same underlying source as me. His mood was much calmer, probably because he didn’t face the problems that I did.
We sat for hours, just based on the passage of the sun across the sky. Neither of us spoke, and we both kept our minds still. That time was probably the happiest of my life. My worries slowly vanished, and the future meant nothing. I simply enjoyed the here and now on this sparse and cold mountainside.
Eventually, tall black clouds began to build to the west. Then they drifted our way. This exposed mountain was no place to ride out a thunderstorm, so we left to reach our Jeep and drive home.
Neither of us spoke. There was nothing to say. I’d either be able to hold that kind of connection during the fight, or I wouldn’t. Sequoia had done all he could to show me the way.
-o-o-o-
Tuesday, August 6th
Brigid’s Community Ranch, Boulder County, Colorado
LATE IN THE MORNING, my grandparents, five uncles, and one aunt arrived from Oklahoma in a chartered plane. It hadn’t been that long since I’d last seen them, but given the stress we were all under at the moment, we took extra time saying hello again. Then we ate lunch.
Afterward, Gill invited everyone who’d attended our last meeting to join my relatives in the ranch’s workshop. He also introduced Lucinda to everyone. Now was the time for his big reveal. I was intensely curious about what he had in mind, but some others seemed skeptical, particularly Sorcha.
Gill grinned like he’d just been voted man of the year and rubbed his hands together. “My idea is that we make Ian stronger by making his staff stronger, using official methods.”
He grinned at Lucinda who looked back at him with a frown and tight lips.
“That’s what you should have done last time,” she said.
“Exactly right,” he replied. “And I can tell you that Ian feels terrible for doing what he did without talking to me first.”
I had to fight to keep from bursting out laughing. I’d told him to let me take the hit, but I hadn’t expected that he’d do it so enthusiastically.
Gill had asked me to bring my staff, and when he motioned for my weapon, I gave it to him.
After inspecting it, he said, “this came out better than I’d expected.”
Lucinda growled. “Only because I repaired it. You suggest that again, and I will take your shriveled old nuts off with dull tinsnips.”
Gill nodded but rolled his eyes at me. Then he handed the staff to Lucinda.
“What we are going to do is to create a ring of power for Ian’s staff,” he said. “I’ve asked his family to bring photographs and other personal mementos. One by one, each of them will tell us the meaning behind each object.”
Gill handed me a small g
olden ball and said, “Squeeze this gold in your fist.”
Then he motioned for Grandpa Samuel to come forward. The old medicine man stood in front of me and held up a photograph of my parents wedding. For five minutes, Grandpa described how happy he was that his daughter had chosen to marry my dad and how Grandpa had continued to be thrilled with the family they’d created together.
When he finished, Gill said to me, “Does losing your parents make you furious?”
“You’re goddamned right it does.”
“Concentrate all your fury into the ball,” Gill said.
Lucinda stepped forward and covered my fist with both of her hands. Then she spoke a spell in Italian, and the ball warmed my fist. She took it from me and put it in a clay bowl.
Gill handed me another small gold ball and went through the ritual again with my grandma. Each time one of my relations spoke, they talked about the various members of my family that I’d lost. My rage continued to grow, and each time, I put as much of my anger into the ball as possible.
When everyone had spoken, Lucinda took all the gold balls and put them into a white-hot furnace. When they had all melted, she poured liquid metal into a form and created a strip about 6 inches long.
After that cooled, she formed the strip into a ring and used magic to embed it in my staff at the top.
She held my weapon in her hands for a moment and then nodded to Gill. He took it and said to me, “Your staff now contains plenty of power to fuel an attack spell. The ring will only release energy once. Make that hit count. The spell that triggers the ring is, ‘Holarthon, elbo détruit.’”
I took my staff from him and hugged him. “Words cannot convey how much I appreciate your help.”
Chapter 24
Thursday, August 8th
Colorado Capitol Building, Denver, Colorado
LATE IN THE EVENING, a group of twenty of my friends and relations joined me on the western steps to the state capitol. Diana or Escobar had gotten rid of the security and opened the door. We walked inside on the main level and stood in a rotunda far below the dome. Gold covered the outside, but the inside had been painted with a mixture of patterns, particularly alternating blue and gold.
The main floor of the building was mostly open, but in the center, an oval had been cut out so that people on the lower level could look up and see all the way to the top of the dome. A thick brass railing surrounded that opening, presumably to keep drunk politicians from falling through the floor breaking their necks.
Our group marched in and stayed on one side of that oval. Above us, each level consisted of a walkway circling the rotunda. Again, heavy brass or stone railings kept folks from tumbling down onto the marble floor at the main level.
If I hadn’t had blood on my mind, I would’ve loved to spend a few hours roaming this grand historic building. Instead, my group stayed on one side of the main floor, and Escobar’s half-dozen sorcerers stood on the other side of the room. Diana walked over to speak to them.
Gill pulled me aside and said, “A couple of things to remember: First, are you connected to the Infinite now?”
I checked to make sure. “Yep. I’ve been meditating with Sequoia the whole way here.”
He patted my back. “Terrific. Stay cool as long as you can. Once you get pissed, you’ll lose that connection for good. My second point is, try not to use the power ring until you’re absolutely desperate or ready for the kill shot.”
I nodded.
Gill stepped back and my family surrounded me. We sang an Osage war chant, and one of my uncles beat a drum. I’d already marked my chest with ashes from the fire where we burned Cantor’s scalp. Without knowing the details, I also had received ashes from Sitka’s cremation, and I wore some of them, as well.
After we finished chanting, Diana returned. “They’re ready,” she said to me in a low voice. “I know we’ve had our ups and downs, but I’ve never wanted anything in my life more than to see you win today.”
She hugged me tightly and then stepped away. Turning to the center of the room, she called out, “A territorial challenge has been made and answered. Control for a period of ten years for the Rocky mountain region of these United States hangs in the balance. Neither combatant may leave the field of battle until one of them has conceded. Let the battle begin.”
The buzzing in my ears started. Escobar stepped out of his group of sorcerers and pointed his staff at me. I recognized him from the day at my parents’ farm. He was tall and stout, probably in his fifties, and he wore a black karate uniform.
As Gill had told me, my main strategy was to remain calm and hopefully let Escobar wear himself out. Sequoia was confident that I could transfer the sorcerer’s attack spells to the gods. I only wished that I shared that confidence, but the rumbling of the Infinite continued in my mind. No ward.
Escobar moved to the right to get a clear shot at me. The sorcerer pointed his staff and silently fired off a spell. Red lightning.
The flash dazed me, blinding in the dim light, and I cringed. My skin began to burn, but it was nothing like I’d expected. In an instant, the flash and the pain vanished.
I breathed a sigh of relief. This crazy way of fighting works.
Escobar groaned.
While he was surprised, I rushed forward, holding my staff over my shoulder like a baseball bat. Before I reached them, though, I hit his ward. It was as hard as granite.
I was beginning to get frustrated, but I caught myself. My connection to the gods was flimsy. I had to focus all my effort on strengthening it.
Escobar then ran at me. I had just enough time to chant to myself, Holarthon, elbo protège. Sorcha and I had been practicing chanting spells for weeks, and it really seemed to help to say elbo at a lower note than the other words.
He slammed into my ward, and we were even now. But I didn’t want even, I wanted to crush the bastard…
No, not time for that yet. I controlled myself, needed to maintain my concentration.
Escobar yelled, “Fuck you and your entire family. When I’m finished with you, I’m coming after every one of them.”
Fury began to build within me. To give me time to settle myself, I ran to one of the grand staircases that led up to the second level. After I was out of his direct line of fire, I slowed and focused my mind on the memory of the old bristlecone pine I just visited. It had struggled with far worse situations than anything I faced and survived.
That memory renewed my connection to the Infinite. When Escobar chased me up to the next level, I stood ready and faced him. This time, I knew he’d hit me with his best shot.
The lightning spell came at my head. I couldn’t even close my eyes in time. I was surrounded by a brilliant light, and I could smell my hair burning. For a second I couldn’t breathe, but then the shock dissipated. This time, it didn’t leave entirely. My skin on my face stung, like it had been singed.
I doubted I could take another shot like that, but I hadn’t used any of my power yet. First, I prayed to the Mórrígan for strength.
Escobar bent over, gasping for breath. The second spell had taken too much out of him.
I rushed at him to take advantage of his weakness. I could fight with karate without being furious, and I lined up for a lunging punch.
But at the last second, he stepped sideways to let me pass and slammed his staff into the side of my head as momentum carried me by. The bastard had tricked me.
I dropped like a stone and fought to maintain my consciousness. The connection to the gods vanished. Blood poured out of a cut on my temple.
Without hesitating, he dropped onto me, punching my face and chest. I couldn’t breathe. Blood gushed out of my mouth from my cut lips, and the pounding on my chest kept me from inhaling. It was like he used a thousand fists, all made of steel.
I rolled sideways, trying to escape. Tried to create a ward, but the right words wouldn’t come. Gill’s voice rang in my head. Don’t lose it now, idiot!
I kept a tight grip on my staf
f and scrambled to my feet. He charged, but I whacked him in the head with the end of my staff. That stopped him cold. I pounced, hitting him with lunging punches and roundhouse kicks.
He screamed, but a few seconds later, a ward kept me back.
A bronze statue of a miner blocked part of the walkway, and I ran behind it to get a few seconds of peace. Again, I chanted, Holarthon, elbo protège.
He roared as he chased me, and I ran into a hallway leading away from the rotunda. I slipped into an ornate conference room, and I realized too late that there was no way out.
He burst through the door, and I circled the table in the center. I had nothing to hide behind, so I reinforced my ward.
Then I switched sides of my mind into the furious part where I’d been storing most of my anger at him. The son of a bitch had killed my family! I pointed my staff at his face. “HOLARTHON, ELBO ASSOMME!”
Even though I didn’t have much time to conjure the stunning spell, the recoil knocked me back against the wall in the conference room. The power of the spell launched Escobar into the air, flying ten feet backwards.
I ran to him and threw myself on his writhing body. With my fists and knees, I hit his face and stomach. After a few seconds, I calmed down enough to remember the techniques Don had taught me. Now I wasn’t the only one bleeding.
But he reformed his ward again, and I couldn’t get through. I attacked it with pulsed lightning. I remembered his laughter when he dashed out of my parents’ barn after slaughtering Carol. At the top of my lungs, I chanted, “HOLARTHON, ELBO FRAPPE!”
Each hit slammed against his ward, and it soon began to weaken. Sparks hit his body. Now his hair was burning. He was writhing from the lightning, but he still managed to cast another spell. A fireball hit me square in the chest and felt like it was burning through me. My consciousness began to dim. This seemed like the end.
But the pain lessened. I needed time to focus my mind again and restore my ward. I ran out of the conference room back to the rotunda. After I got there, I ran to the right to hide behind the miner statue again.
Vengeance (The Sorcerers' Scourge Series Book 3) Page 22