Of Song and Shadow

by Phillip Drayer Duncan

I snorted.

  He snorted back.

  I snorted again and said, “That may be true, but you didn’t ask for her advice. You asked her to find your missing heart.”

  “That was a good one, wasn’t it?”

  Fortunately, before I had to answer his question, the lights went out.

  Streams of light poured in from the windows and the red ‘Exit’ signs lit up, providing the only light in the hospital.

  “What do you suppose the chances are that this is coincidental?” Axel asked.

  “It’s a hospital,” I replied, starting toward Eva’s room. “The generators should’ve kicked on immediately.”

  “So, the chances aren’t good.”

  “No, Axel,” I growled over my shoulder. “The chances aren’t good.”

  Axel sped past me and put some distance between us. I was a bit sore from the day before, but it occurred to me that I really needed to start doing some cardio work.

  Axel rounded the corner into Eva’s room several paces ahead of me. He flew back out of Eva’s room a half second before I got there. His body shot past me and slammed into the opposite wall.

  He looked up at me from the floor and said, “Ouch.”

  I drew my sword and staff and stepped into the room.

  “Well, hello there, Blade Mage,” said the white-haired man from before. He stood beside the bed. Casual. Like any random family member visiting a patient. Well, like any random family member with a long ass katana in one hand.

  Eva, on the other hand, was terrified. Eyes wide and staring at the strange man, she tried to ease her way toward the edge of the bed. Unfortunately, she had a number of wires attached to her and couldn’t get far.

  “Get away from her,” I said, trying to sound as tough as possible as I approached.

  He grinned at me.

  I started forward, intent on hacking the smug off his lips.

  He raised his sword and pointed the blade at me. Before I could react, waves of energy ripped right through my magic shield. Like Axel moments before, my feet lifted off the ground and I fell backwards. My gut clenched with that same feeling you get when you slide on ice. That moment where you know you’re going down and there isn’t a goddamned thing you can do about it.

  Fortunately for me, Axel had made it back to his feet and was on his way back into the room. My body hit him like a human missile, and he was softer than the wall or the floor. Unfortunately for him, my weight drove him back down to the ground.

  We landed in a pile, both cursing and struggling to get away from one another.

  I rolled away from him and sat up just in time to watch the intruder take hold of the IV in Eva’s arm. She screamed as he ripped it clear.

  I struggled back to my feet, but by the time I did he’d already ripped out all of her medical attachments and was dragging her from the bed. Eva was tough, I had to give her that. Despite her fear and despite her weakness, she kicked and punched, scratched and bit. Like an animal in a snare, she struggled against him. It was no use.

  He threw her over his shoulder and made the slightest gesture at the door, causing the heavy wood to slam in my face as I charged forward. I hit it head on, rocking the old metal frame. My whole body jarred with the impact and I stumbled backward, wondering what the chances were that I didn’t have a concussion at this point.

  Then I tripped over Axel’s foot and fell. I clambered for something to hold onto and found only my friend, who’d once again just managed to get back to his feet. I dragged him down with me.

  “Come on,” Axel said in frustration. “Should I just stay down here? Maybe I can trip him on the way out.”

  Before I could reply there was the distinct sound of breaking glass from within the room, followed by another scream from Eva. Apparently, he wasn’t planning on escaping through the door.

  I charged it again and it swung open. The white-haired man stood by the window with Eva over his shoulder. He gave me a good-natured wink, then jumped through the broken glass.

  I sprinted across the room and climbed through the window after him. He’d made it look so easy, but I found myself straddling the frame and trying not to give myself a vasectomy on the broken glass.

  A moment later my feet touched down and I saw him head through the trees. I started after him but only managed a few steps before something hit me around the waist and drove me to the ground.

  I glanced over to realize a dark figure in combat fatigues was trying to pin me to the ground. I punched him in the balaclava and jerked free of his grasp. He tried to grab me again, but then Axel appeared over both of us. He jumped and did an honest-to-god elbow drop while bellowing a Macho Man Randy Savage style, “Oh yeahhhh!”

  Then he cried out in pain and clutched his elbow with a sort of childlike grimace.

  I shook my head at him and started after Eva again, only to have another black-clad soldier try to tackle me. I grabbed hold of his balaclava and twisted the material around over his eyes, then slammed my foot between his legs. As I shoved him away from me, more dark figures poured out of trees and surrounded us, all armed with assault rifles. These were the same goons from before.

  I didn’t have time for this shit. I didn’t know if these goons were aligned with the white-haired asshole or if he’d just led me into the middle of them for his own amusement, but I was out of patience.

  I drew my staff and sword once again and started forward, hurling a blast of energy at the two ahead of me, knocking both of them from their feet.

  Another nearly caught me from the side, but a blast of red energy knocked him clear. I heard Axel’s triumphant shout and knew he’d had the same idea. However, he immediately yelped and I risked a glance back to see him struggling with another of the goons.

  When I turned back three more had stepped in my path to cut me off, assault rifles leveled at my head. There was a roar and Paeter’s giant form appeared as he plowed through them, batting them aside like children.

  I started forward again. Ahead, the white-haired man glanced back and gave me another wink as the black mist swirled around him like before. There was no way I could close the distance in time, and to ensure that, one of the goons I’d already knocked down grabbed hold of my foot as I tried to sprint past. I went down hard, sputtering in the dead leaves.

  I kicked free and struggled to rise, only to find the fat barrel of a shotgun inches from my face. I swatted the barrel aside as the gun went off, a pounding roar in my left eardrum.

  I rolled and came up swiping at my assailant with my sword. He took a casual step back to evade my strike.

  As I came back up to my feet I realized my attacker wasn’t dressed like the others. He was in jeans and a western shirt, with a cowboy hat sitting atop his head. It was the one we’d pegged as the leader before.

  His eyes were hard and his face was leathered. I couldn’t guess his age, but he certainly looked like a man who’d covered some ground. He watched me with an expressionless face, a long scimitar in one hand and his double-barreled shotgun in the other.

  He flipped the release on his boom stick and the breach flicked open, ejecting the spent, smoking shells. A bandolier of shells was slung across his chest. Two of them floated free from their holder and drifted to the shotgun without the man touching them. As soon as the shells planted themselves in the gun, he snapped it shut again.

  I had to admit it was a cool trick. However, I didn’t have time to sit around appreciating it, on account of he was trying to kill me. I charged as he raised the gun again, swatting at it with my staff. He took another quick step back and took aim again. My magical shield would hold up against a regular shotgun shell, but there was no telling what this strange man might be using. I decided not to risk it and dove to the side as he fired again.

  I charged him full speed then, swinging my staff for his head. He sidestepped and raised his scimitar to strike. I swung Drynwyn. Our blades met in the middle.

  There was a blinding flash of light.

  A de
afening boom.

  Then a strange sense of weightlessness. Like the whole world was spinning around me, and in fact, it was.

  I was flying.

  Or at least that’s what I thought until I thudded against the ground.

  I may have lost consciousness for a few moments. Everything was spotty and a bit in and out. The first solid realization was pain. Particularly around my ass bone. Then it kind of spread everywhere. Whatever the hell had happened, I’d been hit hard.

  I slowly forced open my eyes, barely clinging to consciousness. The cowboy’s face hovered in my vision. After a few moments, he said, “Blade Mage… I think we need to talk.”

  Chapter 16

  My dreams were a haunted mess. I couldn’t remember much, save I was running from the shadows. No matter how hard I ran, they drew closer and closer.

  I woke up in a strange place. I knew it was foreign before I even opened my eyes. Around me I could hear quiet chatter from unfamiliar voices. No, that wasn’t quite right. I recognized the cowboy’s voice.

  I opened my eyes and glanced around.

  There was a window beside me, and judging by the sun, it was already late afternoon.

  I was curled up on a couch in what appeared to be the inside of an RV. I forced myself to a sitting position and looked around.

  The cowboy sat at a small table on the other end of the camper, chatting quietly with one of the black-armored goons.

  I looked around for my weapons but didn’t see them.

  As I studied my surroundings, the gentle patter of conversation died down and I glanced over to realize the cowboy was staring at me. He nodded at the goon who reluctantly exited the camper.

  “No need to be alarmed,” the stranger said as he pulled a can of Copenhagen out of his pocket. He took off the lid and grabbed a pinch between his fingers. After putting it in his lip he continued, “You’re safe here.”

  “Am I?” I asked.

  He made a brief chuckle and pointed at the other side of the empty table. “Come have a seat. Your weapons are here.”

  I hesitated. If he wanted to kill me he could have already, but that didn’t mean he was friendly. Furthermore, I didn’t know what had happened to Axel or Paeter. For all I knew, his men had killed them outside the hospital before taking me prisoner. In the end, though, I didn’t see much choice but to play along.

  I moved toward the front of the camper and saw that he hadn’t lied. My staff and sword were in the seat across from him. I picked them up and sat down, laying my weapons across my lap. I felt better just having them.

  “Where are my friends?” I asked.

  He pointed a thumb toward the door. “Outside hanging with my guys. They’re all right. The one never shuts the hell up, though.”

  “He really doesn’t,” I replied, feeling a sense of relief. If Axel was dead, this man wouldn’t have known what a chatter box he was. So, good chance he was telling the truth.

  “So,” he said, pausing to spit in a plastic cup. “You’re Wyatt Draven. Son of the man himself.”

  I nodded.

  “Your old man is fucking legend, kid. You know that?”

  He had a southern accent. Sounded Texan. I couldn’t remember having met this man before, and I was pretty sure neither him or his goons were from the Cabal.

  “I do,” I said finally. “He was a great man.”

  “The best,” he said, nodding. “I learned a lot from him. Shame he passed. Still had a lot more to teach me.”

  “Have we met?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “No. Unfortunately I missed the funeral or we might have. Been meaning to look you up, but you know how it is, always monsters to kill.”

  “Are you some kind of mercenary?” I asked.

  Apparently this was a rather funny joke because he started laughing as he shook his head. “You haven’t figured it out yet?”

  I shook my head back at him.

  “The name is Byron Walker,” he said, then tapped the scimitar sitting in the seat beside him. “Blade Mage of the Southern Circle.”

  I stared at him in disbelief. As far as I knew, there were at least two other Blade Mages in the United States, but I’d never met any of them. The Cabal did work with some of the other organizations, but none I’d ever been involved in. As far as the Arcane Guardians went, I’d only ever met a handful of them from the other groups.

  “Really?” I asked, yet somehow, I knew it was true.

  “Why do you think our swords went boom when they touched? They were sending us a message. Trying to tell us we were being jackasses.”

  “Wait, so, the swords knew?”

  “Well, yeah, of course,” he said, raising one eyebrow to give me a skeptical look. “How long have you had that blade now?”

  “A few years.”

  “And you still don’t know fuck all about it, do you?”

  “No really,” I admitted. “I’m not an active member of the Cabal.”

  “What’s that got to do with anything?” he asked. “You’re the Blade Mage, ain’t ya? You don’t need to play politics to work your station. That ain’t what it’s about. I’d have thought your old man would’ve explained that to you.”

  “I don’t think he knew I was going to follow in his footsteps.”

  “A fair point,” he said, then changed the subject. “You’ve got a lot learn about that sword you carry. It’ll teach you if you listen. It’s bound to you that way. A part of you, now. Inescapable. Hell, you couldn’t get away from it if you wanted to. Sometimes I wonder if the damn thing is sentient.”

  “Hold on,” I said. “If you’re the Blade Mage of the Southern Circle, what are you doing in Arkansas?”

  “Huntin’ bad-un’s of course,” he said, grinning. “That’s the job.”

  “Outside of your own territory? The Cabal isn’t big on trespassers.”

  “Yeah, I was planning on getting in touch with someone, but it doesn’t seem we can get a hold of them. Some asshole has a net around us.”

  “I heard,” I said. “Still not sure how that works.”

  “Me neither,” he said, then spit in the cup again. “Your friends filled me in on the details about your gal Eva. Awfully strange situation we’ve got ourselves here.” He sighed. “I suppose it’s only proper I tell you our side of things.”

  I nodded.

  “We got a mysterious tip about some witchcraft down in Victoria, Texas. Whole mess of bloody folk too damn dead to tell us their story. Goddamned massacre. Had all the bells and whistles of a nasty working. But the killer made a rookie mistake. Left us a magical scent. Stuck my tracker on it and we followed the trail. It was strange, though.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “You have much experience tracking other mages?”

  I shook my head. “Not much. I understand the basics.”

  “Well, say you wanted to hide your magical aura from your buddy out there. He might be a bit stronger than you, but if you could get far enough away, or if you were talented at veiling your craft, or had the right defenses in place, you could hide easy enough, yeah?”

  “Sure,” I agreed.

  “And if I were trying to find you, me having a bit more experience, you’d have a harder time.”

  “Right.”

  “Well, if I stuck my tracker on your ass, it’d be damned near impossible for you stay hidden. He’s good, my old tracker. Once Zedidiah had your scent, you’d be hard pressed to lose him. Understand?”

  “I do,” I said, nodding. “The stronger another mage is, the easier it is for them to find you, typically. I get it.”

  “Good. Wasn’t sure your Cabal trained y’all up like we do in the South.”

  “They do,” I said. “You were explaining why this was weird.”

  “Right,” he said, spitting in the cup again. “So Zedidiah picks up the trail clear as day. Hell, I sensed it too. Our target had gone north. Up around New Braunfels. So, we hit the road. Only we lost the trail on the way.” He paused to
snap his fingers. “Just like that, I can’t sense the target anymore. Zed can’t either. So, we park for the night, grab some beers and keep trying. Next day, we pick up the scent around Austin.”

  “So, the magical trail dropped in and out like bad cell phone reception?”

  “Exactly,” he said. “If our little psychopath was able to block effectively, the aura should’ve been weak, but I’m telling ya, it was clear as day. Easy. Then it was gone. Followed the trail to Austin where we found a few more dismembered corpses, then on to Waco. Lost the trail again in Dallas. This time we didn’t pick it up again for three days, but sure as shit, came through like a beacon, and up north further into Sherman. This time it led us to a gas station and we were able to see some video footage around the same time we picked up the trail. Saw a pretty woman on the screen who sounds an awful lot like your Eva.”

  “Was she alone?” I asked.

  “In the video clip, yeah,” he said, shrugging. “We followed the trail up sixty-nine into Oklahoma, then I40 into Arkansas. Headed north again on forty-nine, up through your Boston Mountains, which are gorgeous by the way, all the way until we ended up here.”

  “So, do you think she killed those people?”

  He stared at me for a few moments, assessing me with his sharp eyes. Everything about this guy was country, but as I’d learned a long time ago, a southern accent didn’t make someone stupid. Far from it. Byron Walker was sharp. That much was clear.

  Finally, he said, “I don’t rightly know, kid. What I suspect is that someone led me on a wild goose chase. Someone brought me here, right to you.”

  “But why?”

  “Maybe they hoped we’d kill each other,” he said, shrugging. “Damn near did. It’s the only thing that makes sense. I suspect some powerful mage has a veil on her. Lets us get a peak from time to time, just so we can stay on her trail. Always keeping us one step behind. That’s how we found your house and that’s how we caught up outside that lawyer’s office.”

  “Your men tried to kill us.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that,” he said with an apologetic shrug. “I told them to wait until I got there. You know how these mercenary types get. All balls and no brains sometimes. Working with a bunch of fucking newbies. Was on a training assignment when all this went down. I didn’t have time to wait around for the Circle to provide me an experienced lot. But I am sorry. It shouldn’t have gone down like that. We lost some good men to the shadows.”