by Ben Reeder
“Your word against mine, human,” Deek sneered.
Shade’s hand moved, or at least I think it did, because I heard the crack of her palm on his cheek, but all I saw was the blur that went from her shoulder to his face.
“You will treat my gothi with respect,” she snarled. “He’s right. Lucas has bigger balls than you. If anyone should have run for the door, it was him; he stuck with us all the way, and all he had was a watergun. You didn’t even come inside. You’re a coward, and you’re not welcome here. You have no status with my pack, and if you want to challenge anyone, you start with my gothi.”
“He’s no challenge,” Deek sneered. “Do you think I won’t call him out because he’s so far beneath me?”
“You haven’t seen my gothi fight,” Shade said with a cold smile. The laughter behind us made Deek’s eyes narrow. “If you’d had the balls to stand with us tonight, you’d know that. Go.”
The word was more threat than command, and Deek was on his bike in seconds. My heart felt a little lighter as the sound of his bike faded. I turned to Shade and my friends.
“It’s my birthday, guys. I want you all there to help me celebrate it.” I had a chorus of yeses, except for Steve, who looked uncertain.
“I, uh,” he started.
“We just killed a major bad guy, man. Cake is the least I can do.”
Epilogue:
Shade’s body was pressed up against mine as we stood under the big oak tree in my backyard. Over by the grill, Dr. C was keeping watch over burgers and steaks, with Junkyard keeping an alert nose and eye out for the occasional scraps that just happened to get dropped. He’d claimed that manning the barbecue was his duty as a Texan, over Mom’s halfhearted protests. He’d done it right after Collins brought Mom and Dee home, so she didn’t figure out that he’d relieved her of most of the cooking until after we’d spent two hours catching up.
She still insisted on making a cake and cookies and Goddess knew what else. Dr. C had brought a long folding table and several extra chairs from somewhere, and Steve was regaling everyone else with the story of our fight upstairs. The rest of the pack sat protectively around Lucas, Wanda and their guests, Dani and Crystal. Crystal was curled up in Dani’s arms, and every now and then I watched them kiss or share a gentle touch.
“You helped make that happen,” Shade said softly as Dani pressed her lips to Crystal’s.
“So did you,” I reminded her.
She smiled and shrugged as she reached up and touched Wanda’s pentacle where it lay on my chest, her birthday gift to me. Dr. C had given me the LeMat, though unless I needed it, it stayed at his house until I turned eighteen. Lucas had given me a thick set of leather bound books, Tolkien’s The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings trilogy as a set, and a promise to repair my poor backpack.
“I want to give you something for your birthday,” she said softly.
I recognized the heat in her voice, and cocked my head.
“It’s . . . as much for me as it’s for you. I mean, it’s . . . it isn’t like the night . . . when I tried to,” she stammered to a stop and her cheeks turned red before she dipped her head to hide her face.
“I know what you mean,” I said softly. “It’s okay.”
She took a deep breath and looked back up at me. Her eyes weren’t full of desire so much as raw need.
“I need your touch,” she said.
I put my hand to her cheek gently, but she turned her face away and took my hand in hers. Slowly, gently, her trembling hand put mine over the first gentle rise of her breast, then brought my palm to her lips and kissed it, almost like a blessing.
“Soon. Please?”
I nodded. Her gift wasn’t her body; it was her trust. All I could do was nod, because words seemed too small for the job. I pulled her to me and kissed her gently, then wrapped her in my arms.
“Chance, your necklace is glowing,” I heard her whisper a moment later.
My eyes snapped open to see a man in the alley, looking straight at me. His face wasn’t remarkable to look at, in spite of the square jaw and high cheekbones. All of that was boring when it had to compete with the void of his eyes. I recognized those eyes, even if the face was completely different.
“I’ll be right back,” I said.
A few moments later, I was standing at the back fence with a heavy, cloth-wrapped burden in my hands that I couldn’t wait to get rid of.
The man came over to me and looked at my pentacle with open disdain.
“Remove that obnoxious bauble from my sight,” Thraxus demanded.
“My house, my rules. You don’t like it, you can go.”
“When did you gain faith?” he asked.
I shrugged.
“It was a gift. Sorry about the car by the way,” I said insincerely as I handed the fragment over to him. As soon as he took it, I felt the last burden I’d taken on seem to fall from my shoulders.
“It served its purpose. As did you.”
“Did Etienne?” I asked.
He looked at me with a smile.
“What ever do you mean?” he asked. Butter wouldn’t have melted in his mouth.
“Even if he hadn’t crossed the line with Collins, you already had that story with the fragment ready. The ritual he was doing took months to pull off, and there’s no way he could have started it unless he had it. There’s no way you went six months without missing it.”
“An interesting theory. One I have no doubt you will amuse yourself with for many nights to come as you try to understand why I would have wanted him to fail at the last possible moment, and how I could have predicted events so precisely as I did. When you comprehend that, I beg you, let me know of my great skill, because it eludes me as to how I would have accomplished it.” He turned and walked away, and my pentacle slowly faded.
“Arrogant prick,” Dr. C said from over my shoulder.
“How’d you know?” I asked.
“Wanda felt him. I think you’re right, by the way. He used Etienne as much as he used us. Not that I have any sympathy for the bastard. We’ll figure out what he was up to, don’t worry.”
“Hard not to,” I said as I turned to face the house and the impromptu party.
“Well, let me help take your mind off things,” he said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. “Happy birthday.”
“What’s this?” I asked.
The end of one of the keys was square, the other rounded. Both of them had the image of a running horse on one side, and the Ford logo on the other side.
“It’s a set of car keys. They’re for my old Mustang.” He smiled like he was about to tell the punch line of the funniest joke ever.
“A car? You’re kidding! Where is it?” I exclaimed.
“San Angelo. It’s yours on two conditions.”
“Name it!” I pretty much bounced.
“One, you ace Driver’s Ed. Two, get it running.”
“You got it. Your burgers are burning.” I smiled as he took off across the yard.
Shade came over and took my hand, and we leaned against the fence, basking in what passed for normal with us. A werewolf pack in my back yard, a wizard grilling steaks, and two lovers reunited because of what we’d done.
“Penny for your thoughts,” she offered.
“Just trying to figure out why saving the world doesn’t seem as cool as all this,” I said as I gestured at the impromptu party. “You know. Surviving my birthday. Saving my friend. Getting the hot girl. Looking the Goddess in the face is like . . . cool and all, but this,” I said as I kissed her lips. “Way better.”
“The little things are what make the big things worth fighting for,” Shade said softly.
She pulled me toward the table as Dr. C started serving up food, and I realized she was right. More than she knew, she was right. Being a mage wasn’t about saving the world. It was about making the world worth hanging onto. That, I could do.
Dear Readers,
Thanks for pi
cking up Page of Swords. I hope you enjoyed walking around in Chance’s world again. I know I certainly liked coming back to see some familiar faces and meeting some new folks as well. When I re-released The Demon’s Apprentice, the response was amazing and far better than I had ever imagined. I love seeing your reviews, as well as hearing from you through my website and author page on Facebook and through Twitter.
Page of Swords was a very involved book for me, since it starts to address some of the issues Chance is dealing with from his past, and his relationships with his friends and family. As well, we start to see the larger world behind the Veil, and learn that it isn’t all that squeaky clean. I especially enjoyed writing Chance and Shade’s complicated relationship and I’m looking forward to seeing that continue to grow.
As always, I love to know what YOU think. In fact, as a writer, I need to know what my readers think, and what you want to see next. Leave a review, drop me a line or leave a comment on my web page.
Finally, if you love high fantasy, steampunk or want some more urban fantasy, drop by Irrational Worlds. Turn the page to check out some of my fellow authors’ work.
Best regards,
Ben Reeder
From Irrational Worlds:
The Herald of Autumn
There are things unseen in the world of men, strange things that live in the secret cracks between places. Hungry monstrosities that the sons of man cannot fathom. It is The Herald's place to hunt them, protecting us from the darkness that we cannot see.
Every year, with the death of summer, Tommy Maple, the Herald of Autumn, awakens to again wander the land. Wherever he goes, red and golden leaves follow him, and he hunts the twisted creatures in the darkness.
This Autumn, however, is different from those in the past.
Tommy awakens to the taunting of a depraved enemy, a mysterious and elusive shaman. Tommy is powerless before his strange, bent magics, and knows that the old man has slaughtered his kind in the past. He is the last person the Herald should trust.
And yet, Tommy is forced to listen.
Soon, a sinister tale unfolds- a story that spans centuries and the entire continent. A story made from the whispering of forgotten legends that ends with a dark revelation. A story that Tommy has always been part of, even though he didn't know it.
Now the Herald faces an ancient abomination, unlike anything he has ever known before. For once, the hunter is the one that is hunted, chased through a misbegotten wood by a creature who seems to be little more than darkness and feckless hunger.
The behemoth is pure horror, and can unmake everything Tommy is.
As the Herald faces a foe unlike any other, will he fall to the darkness that haunts our world? Will the shadows of a lost age devour him, causing him to be reborn as one of the world's terrors? Or can he trust the shaman, a creature spun from little more than trickery, malevolence and deceit?
What are people saying about
“The Herald of Autumn?”
“Beautiful. It whisks you along with all the grace and power of an autumn wind, biting at times with its chill and whispering always at more to come. The blend of myth and modern, action and love, was superbly done. Definitely want to read more.”
“The story is compelling. It is brisk. It hints at other and deeper stories. It is, in all the senses of the word, captivating. If you don't think you like myth, legend and stories, this one - with ancient roots but a modern touch in the telling - might be a nice place to start.”
“I can honestly say this is one of my favorite books that I have read this year - and it's November so I've read a good many books. The Herald of Autumn earns a place on a very exclusive bookshelf - the one with books I will read over and over. I suspect each time I read it, I will find more I did not perceive before. There is no doubt that I will be buying more books by this author.”
On The Matter of the Red Hand
All Thom wants is to drink a few rounds with his friend and play some bar games, or maybe make friends with that new serving girl- but that's not in the cards. No, Thom has a problem- a problem that may get him killed.
Or worse.
Tonight, it is raining. Thom stands in the shadows as strange visions run through his head like molten silver- visions that show dark injustices, hidden behind strange inexplicable symbols.
It's enough to make a man want a drink.
Thom is on duty, however. These visions have brought him to the door of a madman- Santiago Il Ladren. Santiago is a monster, rumored to have his enemies tortured to death- that is, the ones that don't simply vanish.
It is possible that Santiago will have Thom killed, just for asking the wrong questions.
Soon, the mystery takes a sharp turn. There is a missing girl- and it happens that Santiago is her brother. Each is another step down a twisted road that leads to forbidden alchemies and experiments in horror, hidden in plain sight. Every move Thom takes leads him further into strange shadows, until finally he is confronted with truths that he never wanted to face.
Some nights, it's just not worth the trouble it takes to stay out of the taverns.
Rationality Zero
The world is not what it seems.
Michael Bishop is an Asset of the Facility- a job that comes with many strange perks. He is a man who never gets ill, who never pays taxes. He is effortlessly fit, and has a different woman every night of the week.
That is, when he is not on assignment.
When activated, Michael becomes Asset 108, an enhanced human who stands against the strange darkness that lurks at the edge of our world. Armed with equipment that most would find impossible to comprehend, he is sent on missions both strange and deadly. Each dossier pits him against irrational creatures and beings- most with the power to unravel his sanity, or reality itself. It's never a simple job.
This job, however, is more complex than most. Mysterious unknown targets are fracturing reality, somewhere in the middle of the Mojave desert.
The Facility has no other Assets in the area, and their telemetry is spotty at best. Without knowing what to expect, Bishop is activated, assigned to a cadre, and sent to the middle of nowhere.
What he finds there is both the beginning and the end.
This is a stanza from THE PAEAN OF SUNDERED DREAMS.