by Jack J. Lee
“Who’s giving the trolls the info on us?”
“I wish I could tell you.”
“Fuck! You’re certain. The trolls are going to attack us tonight?”
“Yeah.”
“Got any suggestions?”
B leaned back in his chair and dramatically blew out a big sigh. “Like I told you before, there are rules. You have to make your own plans. I can’t help you that way.”
I didn’t buy his sorry-ass excuse, “So what’s going on with Samael? He’s got to be breaking rules. He’s helping minions kill paladins and trying to start a war and you can’t do shit?”
B didn’t try to hide his thoughts. I saw him consider whether or not to blow me off. “Samael is a scheming, conniving, underhanded chunk of crap floating in raw sewage, but he was smart enough not to rebel. Jehovah is a pretty good boss. You give him loyalty and he’s okay with a couple fuckups here and there. The Bible is right. He’s into forgiveness, especially if you’re trying to increase his power and dominion. When Samael gets caught—and he will—he’ll get his hand slapped for wasting a few paladins. The Nordic Gods won’t have a prayer if the war gets hot. His reward for bringing eight new Universes under Jehovah’s control will more than make up for his punishment.” He shrugged. “With the advantage of hindsight, especially after a big, fat steaming load landed on my head, I can tell you that rebelling didn’t turn out so good. Like I said before, I’m on the Beloved Leader’s shit list; if I walk off the straight and narrow, my ass is grass. Right now, I can give you advice to partially offset the intel that the Jotunn are getting from Samael, but nothing else.”
Thoughts spun and twisted in my head. I had been so confident that I’d have time to prepare. “How good is the Jotunn’s intelligence? If I leave town, will they know?”
“They’ve got real time info of where you are.”
“Will they know how we’re armed?”
“Probably not, I can’t see Samael’s spy caring much, one way or the other.”
“What city within driving distance is best set up to fight the raiders?”
B raised one eyebrow. “Victor, you surprise me; I never saw you as the self-sacrificing kind. Of the cities in easy driving distance, Boise is probably the best defended. If you have help, there’s an itsy-bitsy chance of survival. Without help, you’ll have a snowball’s chance in hell. Using firearms is a nifty idea. The more guns you have the better your chances.” He flashed a grin, “Or should I say, the better our chances. You know as long as Salt Lake City is being threatened you can’t leave, right?”
“What if I was unconscious and transported while I was out?”
My guardian angel gave a surprised snort, “I’ve never heard of anyone trying that.” He stared into the distance. I could almost hear the gears grinding in his head. He mumbled, “If you weren’t conscious, the nausea wouldn’t hit you. With the Jotunn following you up to Boise, you’d have an imminent threat to your life. Your compulsions would probably let you fight when you got there. Yeah, it could work.”
“Can the Jotunn travel during the day?”
“If they shapeshift to human or animal form, yeah.”
“How do you think they’ll chase us?”
“Traditionally, they’d turn into some sort of hawk or a crow and fly, but it’d take ten hours for a bird to fly the three hundred and forty miles from Salt Lake City to Boise. Most of the warband has been here for a couple years. They’ll be a few who’ll know how to drive; driving would be a lot faster.”
“You think they’d attack us during daylight?”
“They’re a hell of a lot more powerful in their Jotunn form than in any other shape. Nope, I can’t see them attacking in any other shape; they’ll attack at night.”
I had a lot to do and not much time. “Thanks, B. I’ll see you later.” I paid the cashier on the way out, got into my truck and headed directly to the store.
When I got to the store at 1:15 PM, a sign was posted on the door, ‘Closed until further notice.’ Again, I felt the door unlock when I grabbed the handle. Everyone, including Tim, was waiting for me in the target room. “Sorry about being late guys. I’ve received information that changes everything. The trolls are still in town and if we stay we’re going to be attacked. If we had time to prepare we could take them, but we can’t right now. We have to get to Boise before nightfall.”
Everyone began to speak at once. The resulting confusion made it impossible for anyone to be heard. It took a couple tries, but Aidan finally was able to speak without anyone else trying to break in, “Victor, as the Paladin of Salt Lake City you can’t leave. As Oath Brothers, Tim and I can’t leave either.”
“I’ve got an idea on how to work around that.” I caught my true love’s eye, “Mina, I promise I’ll explain later when we have time. I know I keep asking you to be patient, but we have to get to Boise before it gets dark. I need you, Ben, and Andi to head home now and get packed. Limit yourselves to one piece of luggage. I want to leave in forty-five minutes.”
Mina met my gaze calmly, but I could see that she was going to hold me to my promise of a detailed explanation in the near future. “Tim drove us here. We’re going to need a ride back.”
“Tim, can you drive them back? Aidan and I have to talk.”
Tim began flapping his hands like he was trying to fly like a hummingbird, “Oh my God, Mr. Paladin! We can leave? I was sure we were going to die!” When he ran over with tears of happiness rolling down his face, I grabbed his shoulder with my elbow locked straight to prevent him from hugging me. I’d let him cry against my chest before because I hadn’t been expecting it. I wasn’t about to let him rub his snot on me again.
For a second, we stood frozen an arm’s length apart, Tim yearning for me like a kid grasping for candy being held just out of reach. I could see Mina biting her lip not to laugh. Ben and Andi were silently giggling so hard their bodies shook. Mina put her arm around the crying apprentice’s shoulder with a murmured “Let’s go, Tim” and led him away from me and out the door. Ben and Andi followed.
“How are we going to leave Salt Lake?” The leprechaun was skeptical.
“We’re going to cast spells on ourselves so we’re asleep. Then the Swensons will drive us to Boise while we’re unconscious.”
“That’s im…but when we wake, we’ll be forced to come right back.”
“I’m pretty sure the Jotunn will be following us. We’ll time our arrival in Boise to just before nightfall. When we wake up, they’ll be right on our ass. I’m going to need you to get in touch with the Boise Paladin and Brotherhood so we can arrange a warm welcome for them.”
Aidan looked stunned, and then laughed in relief. “Victor, that may well work.”
“We’ll need a spell to put us to sleep.”
“There are any number of them we can use.” He thought for a moment and then smiled. “I have just the one that’ll keep us asleep until we’re attacked, or until someone speaks the wake-up phrase.”
“What is it?”
“I can write it down for you.”
I shook my head, “It’d be better if you teach me the principle behind the spell. We’re going to need every advantage we can get. I have to be able to figure out how to cast spells on my own.”
Aidan got down to business. “Magic is the act of imposing your will upon the Universe. You have to have an absolutely fixed and clear idea of what you want, and then will it to happen. Words and specific ingredients help focus your mind but that’s all they really do. The sleep spell I think will be best for us has the following three commands; we will go into a deep restful sleep, we’ll awake if we’re in danger or at risk of being harmed, and a specific phrase will wake us up immediately. The usual phrase is ‘excito sursum.’ This is pivotal Victor. Your intent or what you desire the spell to accomplish is more important than the actual words you use.” He carefully studied my face to make sure I was listening and then went on, “Right now as a beginner, I think it’s a good idea fo
r you to use a different language for all your spells. You don’t want to cast a spell by accident. After you gain enough experience, you’ll be able to cast spells by thought alone.”
“How do I heal myself?”
He nodded. “Indeed. You’ll need to learn how to do that as well. Every time you cast a spell, your soul is damaged. To be safe, before you cast a healing spell, you must first know how healthy your soul is at that moment, and then how much of your soul you’ll burn in the casting. Sleep spells don’t take much energy; for low power spells like those you don’t need a soul gauge, but for more powerful spells like healing spells, a soul gauge will help keep you from burning all your soul.”
“Let me get this straight, by soul gauge you mean something like a power bar on a cell phone that tells you how much battery life you have left?”
“That it is. Casting too many spells—burning all of your soul, will lead to eternal death. Destroy your soul and you won’t rise as an angel
“Okay, tell me if I’ve got it right; to get a soul gauge I need to visualize a power bar. Only I can see to how healthy my soul is, correct?”
“That’s true”
“I’m going to give myself a soul gauge now.”
Aidan inclined his head in agreement.
“I-ay ant-way a-ay ower-pay ar-bay or-fay y-may oul-say.” A mostly green, translucent power bar with a sliver of red at one end appeared in the corner of my right eye. I felt pretty good. I wasn’t tired and my mind was clear.
“Excellent, that was perfectly cast. Now, you must be able to see how much of your soul you’ll use up before you cast a spell. This protection spell has two parts…”
“Aidan, I think I know how the protection spell works.”
He waved me on, “By all means, proceed.”
“To figure out how much power a spell will use, I have to first say the spell but then delay the actual casting until I know how much of my soul will be used up. I’ll have to come up with a word or phrase that will trigger the actual spell casting. And unlike the soul gauge spell, the protection spell will use a lot of power.”
“Victor my boy, it’s a pleasure teaching you.”
“Is there any reason not to cast the protection spell now?”
“No.”
“I-ay ant-way a-ay otection-pray ell-spay at-thay ill-way ell-tay e-may ow-hay uch-may of-ay y-may oul-say ill-way e-bay used-ay up-ay y-bay any-ay uture-fay ell-spay I-ay ast-cay. Y-may elease-ray ase-phray ill-way e-bay ake-it-so-may.” A third of my soul gauge turned red. I felt like I had downed half a fifth of scotch in one gulp. If I hadn’t prepped myself I would have fallen. When Aidan came to support me, I motioned him away. I had a headache from hell.
Aidan kept his distance, but he still sounded concerned, “Victor, you’re hypoglycemic. Some food is what you’re needing to take care of your headache. There’s orange juice and candy bars up in the kitchen. Get some of that in you and you’ll soon feel better.”
I stumbled out the door and started up the stairs. If I hadn’t kept my grip on the railing, I wouldn’t have made it. After downing two large glasses of OJ and three Snickers bars, I felt human again, and wanted the answer to my original question, “So, how does a healing spell work?”
“There’s many a way. The simplest is to record a metaphysical image of yourself when you’re rested and healthy. If you’re injured or sick, you’ll cast the spell to revert to your original healthy baseline. The amount of power that’s necessary is dependent upon the severity of your injuries. Don’t record you image now; you’d best wait until your soul is fully recovered.”
“How much power does it take to record the baseline?”
“Not much, about the same as soul gauge spell.”
“Will the heal spell work against poison?”
“As long as the poison hasn’t been magically enhanced. If it has, it depends on who’s more powerful—you or the person who enhanced the poison.”
“What if I need to be healed, but don’t have enough power to survive the healing spell? Is there way to just heal myself partially—just enough to keep myself alive?”
“Excellent question, my lad. The best way to do that is to make individual baseline images of your vital body parts so you can just heal those areas, as needed.” I made a mental note to myself to record baseline images of the Swensons the next time I saw them.
There was so much more I wanted to know about spells. I could have easily spent a couple more days asking Aidan questions on how to perform magic. I was curious how he had enchanted the pendant I had used earlier today. As usual, I didn’t have time. “Aidan, I need to talk to the Boise Paladin. You have his number? What’s his name?”
Aidan pulled out his phone and showed me the Paladin’s name, Bill Samson, and his number. I called Bill on my phone. The Paladin picked up on the first ring, “Yes?” His voice reminded me of Darth Vader—deep and calm and full of implied menace. I pictured a guy the size of a pro linebacker.
“I’m looking for Bill Samson.”
“This is he.”
“I’m Victor Paladin. Aidan Cahill gave me your number. Don’t know if you’ve heard, but I do what you do in Salt Lake City.”
There was silence for a few moments, but when he answered his voice was still relaxed. I couldn’t hear any evidence of excitement or surprise. “I hadn’t heard.”
“That’s not surprising; I started just a couple days ago. I wanted to give you a heads up. I’m headed up to your neck of the woods tonight and I plan on bringing trouble along with me.”
“Interesting, tell me more.”
“We’ve been having the same problems with the same bunch of riff-raff you’ve had. I’ve learned they have real time intel of what the local defense forces are doing. If I tell you everything now, there’s a chance the riff-raff won’t be surprised. I’ll tell you more when I call later tonight. It’d be good if you and your men are ready when I call.”
“I’m looking forward to our next conversation.”
I ended the phone feeling slightly better. I had just told Samson that trolls were coming his way; the last time it hadn’t worked out all that well for his men. He hadn’t said much or done more than stay calm and collected during our conversation. I don’t know why, but I got the sense he was looking for some payback.
Movies and books are filled with reluctant heroes; warriors who hate to fight but are good at it. Like most things in movies and books, it’s complete bullshit. Show me a Hall of Fame baseball player who hates baseball, a Nobel Prize winning scientist who hates science or composer who hates music. But no—fighters have to be different; they have to be reluctant—yeah, right. I try not to lie to myself. I hoped my instincts were correct—that it wasn’t just wishful thinking that Samson was as good as I needed him to be.
Aidan interrupted my train of thought, “I’ve been meaning to tell you, one thousand shotgun rounds are ready to be picked up. Shall we drop by the Thorgrin Warehouse on the way out of town?”
A few hours ago the answer to this question would have been a no-brainer. You can never have too much ammo in a firefight. “Aidan, you’ve known the Swensons since they were little. Do any of them know how to shoot?”
“I think not. Their father owned no guns, and I’ve not heard of any of them ever doing any shooting. I’ve not used a firearm before, either. Tim used to hunt with his family when he was younger.”
The Jotunn had spies getting them real time info on us. If an angel was helping them, we were screwed. I couldn’t see how I’d be able to take out an angel. I had to believe it was an Oath Brother or one of the Swensons—a spy I had a chance against. What did I really know about any of them? I couldn’t even be sure of Mina, my one true love. People hurt the ones they love every day.
Only Tim knew how to shoot. Even if he wasn’t a traitor, there was no way I wanted him behind me with a loaded weapon. Even if none of them were traitors, did I want any kind of noob behind me with a shotgun? There wasn’t much of a practical d
ifference between being shot from behind by an enemy on purpose, versus shot from behind by an idiot by accident. As much as I needed backup, my reluctant answer was no. “Aidan, we’ll leave the ammo behind. Let’s go. We’re losing daylight.”
Chapter 16: Road Trip
Tim and the others were ready to go, waiting in the kitchen when Aidan and I got to the house. The leprechaun had been planning to stay the night at our place and his bags had never been removed from the van. I grabbed the shotguns and training ammo I’d bought and ran them to my bedroom. I’d been living out of luggage the last few days. All I had to do was grab my toothbrush and razor and zip up my luggage.
I needed backup and the best place to get it was Boise. A year ago, there were hundreds of Oath Brothers in Salt Lake City. Yesterday, there had been five. Now, there were two. If Salt Lake City was an example of a cluster fuck, Boise was the shining ideal. The Paladin there and most of his Oath Brothers were still alive. My best bet was to get my ass to Boise as soon as possible. They probably had someone spying on them, too. Somehow, they’d been able to keep their mole under control.
On my way downstairs a thought occurred to me. Aidan wasn’t around; Tim was in the kitchen, “Hey Tim, there’s got to be a way to track the trolls, right?”
“If there is, we haven’t been able to find it. The problem is that it’s easier to magically hide than find. All of the Jotunn have power and some of them are very strong—too strong for any of us, even you, to track them.” Tim’s expression grew even more morose. “It makes no sense at all that the Jotunn are able to track us.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Tim raised his hands helplessly, “Mythic Heroes have to be on par with the monsters they’re sent to fight. The Jotunn can’t be that much more powerful than paladins. To be able to scry us, they’d have to be almost as powerful as archangels, but they can’t be and still be Mythic Heroes. What they’re doing should be impossible.”
Fuck! I did not want to hear that. Tim was making it sound like Samael was the mole. I forced my mind back on the problems I could do something about. “Tim, give me the keys to the van. Someone else needs to drive.”