Midwest Magic Chronicles Box Set

by Flint Maxwell

  All three turned their heads in the direction of the noise. Once Maria’s eyes focused on the Dragon Tongue standing at the edge of the beach closest to the paved road, the man clapped slowly. Under his arm was a thick book that was as old as time itself.

  “Very sweet,” the man said.

  “Spare me the bad guy monologue,” Maria replied, raising her voice. “I’ve heard it all before, and it never ends well for the enemy.”

  The man smiled. His teeth were longer than those of all the others, and the tattoos on his face seemed more intricate than the ones she’d seen on the other guards.

  That’s because this isn’t a guard, Maria. This is the head honcho, the big cheese. You’d better kill him before he can mess everything up.

  Maria lunged forward, but Gramps caught her as quickly as a striking snake.

  “Careful,” he whispered.

  “Yes; careful, my young witch,” the man warned.

  “My name’s Maria, asshole,” she shot back.

  “Maria, ah, such a sweet name for a foul-mouthed girl. I am Hunter, the leader of the men you have just maimed and killed.”

  “More like ‘Hunter, the destroyer of families and innocent people who have done nothing wrong.”

  Hunter grinned again. His teeth were so long, Maria saw divots around the bottom of his lip where they settled and had made permanent impressions.

  “I quite like that, Maria, but I’m afraid my new name shall be ‘Hunter, the Dragon Lord’.”

  “Such big aspirations for a man with such a small mind,” Gramps said. The fingers of his right hand wiggled as he called upon his wand. Maria noticed that he had, perhaps subconsciously, put himself between her and Frieda.

  “Quiet, old wizard,” Hunter said. He turned to Maria, his red eyes burning bright. “I want one thing from you, witch, and then you and your friends can leave this town without repercussions. I will look past all the men and, most importantly, all the time you’ve cost me.”

  “In your dreams,” Maria said, clutching the satchel closer to her body. It seemed everyone was after the damn music box; so much so, she had begun to hate the burden that had been thrust upon her. “The only thing I’ll give you is death, and it won’t be a swift one.”

  “I like the way you think.”

  “What is it you’ll have of her?” Gramps interjected.

  Maria looked at him, shocked.

  He leaned toward her and whispered, “I almost lost you twice, dear—with Malakai, and in the Cave of Delusion. I don’t plan on going for a third time. We will give him what he wants and regroup.”

  Maria was resolute. I will never negotiate with villains. I will die before I let Hunter wreak havoc on this town again, and I know that, deep down inside, Gramps feels the same way.

  “The sword,” Hunter said. “You have my sword; the sword of Anwyn, the Dragon Slayer. Now I am the Dragon Lord, therefore I am the rightful owner.”

  “That sword was bestowed upon me by my grandfather, and on him by his father before that,” Maria said. “It is not your sword, but I will give it to you—just not in the way you want.”

  Maria took off toward the leader of the Dragon Tongue, her sword raised. A moment of fear flashed over Hunter’s features, but he quickly composed himself. He stomped down on the sand, and a ring of fire surrounded him. Maria stopped short.

  “Maria!” Gramps yelled.

  Soon he and Frieda were by her side.

  Hunter was laughing, his forked tongue jutting out of his mouth. He opened the book he held to a marked page. “You witches and wizards are so cute. You think you can stop me, the Dragon Lord? Well, you are crazier than you are stupid!”

  “It’s over,” Maria said. “Your men are still out on the lake, there’s no townspeople to offer up to your dragon god, and you are trapped in a fiery prison with only an old book to keep you company. As soon as you come out, I will strike you down where you stand, Hunter. Know that we have you beat.”

  “Not in the slightest.”

  A great burst of light erupted from inside of the ring of fire. Maria shielded her eyes and stepped backward, almost falling. More flames shot from the ring like a lightning bolt, and they struck the beach near the water with a horrendous boom. After the sound reverberated in the distant mountains, all was quiet. Maria, Gramps, and Frieda watched the water, waiting for the inevitable.

  The lake rippled with a wall of flames, as if someone from above had poured them directly onto the water. Maria was helpless, as the boats, still holding barrels of fuel and containing more Dragon Tongue, exploded in an array of destruction. Some of the men jumped over the sides of the other boats only to be met with a burning demise.

  Heat baked the wanderers where they stood. Maria began to sweat.

  Worst of all, Hunter began to read from the book.

  “ ‘Nesir unde glorifica! Reis! Reis! Reis! Nesir unde glorifica! Reis! Reis! REIS!’ ”

  The ground shook. Gramps gripped Maria’s arm harshly. She looked to him and, for the first time, saw true fear in his eyes. Large waves broke the lake’s surface, throwing what was left of the boats toward the shore. Some landed with an epic splash, while the others hit the ground and shattered, splintering into a thousand pieces of burnt wood.

  “What’s happening?” Maria asked breathlessly. But she knew. They all knew.

  Hunter dropped the book as Maria turned back to him. She was ready to run through the flames, to grab him by the throat and demand that he take back whatever he had done.

  But she knew if she did, Gramps would follow and could be hurt or worse. Killed.

  By then, it was too late anyway.

  Water spewed from the middle of the lake, sending a tsunami wave in their direction. They should’ve run, but they couldn’t. Even if Hunter weren’t protected by a wall of flame, Maria didn’t think she could muster up the strength to fight him, for what she saw zapped the breath right out of her lungs. Her legs went weak; her head felt light. In her hand, the sword’s hilt shook violently.

  She was awestruck.

  From the water, a great winged beast rose, causing the lake to part like the Red Sea. It was brilliant white; its eyes, as big as the distant moons, burned a bright red—with hate, with malice, with death.

  Maria couldn’t believe it. The dream she had had only a night or two ago was becoming real. The dragon’s wings seemed to stretch the length of the sky. The beast’s great body, shiny with white and gray scales, blotted out the light from the moons. It flapped its wings as it got higher into the air, and a great, roaring wind whipped toward them, fanning the flames and the heat. Bodies and wood were caught in the tornado of its wings, and were flung this way and that. Maria grabbed Gramps and Frieda and pulled them down before their heads were taken off by a piece of charred wood the size of a Chevy truck.

  The dragon looked down on them and opened its mouth. Jagged teeth gleamed in the waning firelight. They were huge and protruding; the type of teeth that could chew tree trunks and eat giants whole.

  Beating its wings again, the dragon lurched forward and landed on the beach with a resounding thud, shaking the ground all the more. In the distance, Maria heard glass breaking, buildings toppling over, and the screams of townspeople and Dragon Tongue alike.

  Beneath the dragon’s scales, a red glow illuminated. The dragon’s chest shook and its head extended as the sound of broiling fire prepared to exit its body. With a roar, the dragon’s mouth unhinged.

  A thought crossed Maria’s mind; one so stupid and pointless she was ashamed she had ever thought it. Maybe I can absorb the dragon’s fire with my sword, like I’ve done with the Dragon Tongue.

  Luckily for her, Gramps was thinking straight, and he gripped Maria and pulled her and Frieda out of the way of the dragon’s burning breath. Flames washed over the beach , and the noise was enough to make her ears ring. The back of her shirt singed and caught flame; she beat it out before it could consume her.

  Once the dragon’s roar subsided, Hunter
’s screams of joy could be heard over the low crackling of the burning brush and scattered bodies of the Dragon Tongue.

  “My Queen! I have freed you from your underwater prison. It is I who will worship you until the end of time,” Hunter swore, still protected by his shimmering wall of fire.

  Maria poked her head up from the outcropping of rocks currently protecting her from becoming a charred piece of meat. She saw black specks moving through the hazy smoke in the distance.

  A loud bang echoed from near the front gate, which in turn shuddered and creaked forward.

  Hunter turned his head in the direction of the sound. No matter how excited he was, there was no escaping such a raucous noise.

  The great ivory dragon whipped its long neck in the same direction, and its tail followed suit, sending a spray of sand toward the road. It came down like rain on a rooftop in the dead of night. Maria was reminded of the old Native American rainstick that Gramps kept in the corner of the living room. Why she would associate such a pleasant thing with this hellish beast, she did not know.

  The gate banged again, harder. Through the gap between where the two gates met, Maria could see the world beyond. Whatever was out there wanted to get in very badly, and they would not stop until they did.

  Even if there was a dragon inside.

  The gate banged and shuddered a final time,. A giant fist bulged through the dark iron, and with a groaning creak that hung long in the air, the gate toppled over.

  Please let it be allies, Maria silently begged. She held her sword tighter. Her grip was firm despite the nervous sweat coating her palm and the blade’s handle.

  As the gate hit the ground with a thunderous thud, the dragon answered the noise with a call of its own—a roar so loud, Maria almost had to plug her ears.

  The dust settled around the fallen gate, and Maria’s heart stopped for a moment as she thought it was the Arachnids. Then she saw it was dark humanoid-like beings who were knocking at the front door. These creatures were ugly; their backs bent, their limbs long and gangly. They wore streaky white war paint and held long, rusty swords.

  “Orcs,” Gramps said over the roar of the creatures running right toward them.

  Maria gulped. “Orcs?”

  “Well, fuck,” Frieda groaned.

  “Allies?” Maria asked hopefully.

  “Not in the slightest. It would be safe to assume that these Orcs have been sent by the Orc King in alliance with the Widow,” Gramps continued.

  Maria’s heart hammered in her chest. First the Rogue Dragon, and now the Widow? It never gets easier.

  “Have no fear,” Gramps assured her. “We may be able to use the Orcs to our advantage.”

  Maria arched an eyebrow at her grandfather.

  Frieda smiled. “How?”

  “They are our enemy, but they are certainly not the Dragon Tongue’s allies,” Gramps answered. The dragon now made its way toward the rushing army, its large, horned head cocked at a curious angle.

  “You mean they might…” Maria began.

  Gramps nodded. “Correct, Maria. They might kill each other before it’s all said and done.”

  “So what do we do?” Maria was glad she could trust in her grandfather in such a troubling time. She may be powerful, but she was nowhere close to possessing the wisdom of Ignatius Mangood.

  Gramps rose slowly, offering a hand to both women as he did so. “It’s simple, dear,” he said. “We run.”

  Long ago, Lois had made a pact with Ignatius, Salem, and Agnes.

  They were old friends who’d fallen out of touch and gone their separate ways as life forces took them down different paths. But Lois had not forgotten about that pact.

  We will always help one another in times of need.

  Salem and Agnes, the wonderful witch and wizard they were, hadn’t reminded Lois of that pact—though they should’ve. The only reason Lois hadn’t gone with them to Oriceran in the first place was because of her life on Earth. There was the PDF, Earl, Patsy… and perhaps deep down, she had thought she was getting too old for adventures.

  Earl had given her his blessing; Patsy had begged to come along.

  It’s too dangerous. If something happened to you, I’d always blame myself, Lois had told her partner. Besides, the PDF needs you here.

  But as she came out of the portal and entered the lakeside town of Ashbourne, she quickly realized that adventure was just what she needed.

  She arrived just as the Rogue Dragon’s massive body parted the lake and took flight into the night sky, its belly glowing with smoldering fire.

  Chaos ran up and down the streets in the form of cloaked men, and then in the form of Orcs later on.

  She stuck to the shadows, searching for any sign of her friends.

  Then the dragon breathed fire up and down the road. Lois winced as a bit of flame caught her on the arm.

  That’s gonna leave a scar, dammit.

  Footsteps shuffled up behind her, and she turned to see the cloaked men with their fiery eyes.

  “Fresh meat,” one of them said, sticking out a forked tongue.

  “Give her to the Queen and we’ll be heroes!” the other said.

  Lois sighed and pushed her fogged-over glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Making a big mistake, fellas,” she cautioned.

  The men lunged, and Lois pulled her wand free as fast as a gunslinger from the Old West. Before the men could reach her, she had knocked them unconscious with a whopper of a spell.

  “Assholes,” she muttered.

  It was time to find Ignatius and the rest of her old friends.

  Just gotta not get burned again. That hurt like hell!

  A plan presented itself as she looked down at the bodies of the unconscious men.

  One of their dark robes looked to be just her size…

  Chapter Ten

  “Holy shit!” Claire shouted.

  “Keep your voice down,” Salem hissed.

  They had made it to Ashbourne, but both Agnes and Salem knew if they didn’t hurry past the toppled gates, it would be Ashbourne no longer. Instead, it would become a graveyard.

  “That’s a dragon, isn’t it?” Tabby asked.

  “I’m afraid so, dear.” Agnes put a hand on her shoulder, only for Tabby to shrug it off. There was a look of determination on her face they had not seen before.

  “I know what I signed up for,” Tabby said, matter-of-factly. “Let’s go kick some dragon ass.”

  “And Orc ass,” Salem added. “We mustn’t forget about the Orcs.”

  “And the Dragon Tongue,” Agnes said. “If we’re lucky, they will end up killing each other.”

  With her eyes wide as she stared at the great white beast that had taken flight above the city, Claire said, “I don’t think anyone is beating that thing.”

  Salem and Agnes continued on the trail, which led to the front gates. There, a larger version of what Claire thought was one of those battering rams S.W.A.T teams used, lay near the wreckage.

  At least they knocked first, Claire cracked to herself.

  Salem looked back, urging the girls onward. “If anyone can best the dragon, it is Maria. Come on! There’s hope yet!”

  Maria heard soft whimpering somewhere in the shadows as she, Gramps, and Frieda fled from the beach.

  “Sherlock?” she called.

  Maria? Oh, my Dog Lord! It is you. The Bloodhound poked his head out from around the corner of an alleyway. Maria ran toward him, crunching broken glass from a nearby building underfoot.

  “Where’s Gelbus?” she asked.

  “Here, my lady,” a muffled voice answered.

  The sounds of fighting were everywhere. Swords clashed against other swords, Orcs screamed—it was not a very pleasant sound to the wanderer’s ear. The dragon roared and breathed fire, chasing soldiers through the streets, igniting buildings, and ruining this quaint lakeside town.

  Gelbus suddenly stuck his head out of a trash barrel. A fishbone hung off his shoulder, and he smelled te
rrible.

  Yeah, I called dibs on the trashcan hiding spot, but he beat me to it. Plus, you know, he can’t hear me, Sherlock said.

  “Here, let me help you out,” Gramps offered. He and Frieda went over to the Gnome and pulled him out of the garbage.

  “Thanks,” he mumbled. “Once I saw the dragon, I froze. I’m sorry that I could not be of any more help, Maria.”

  Maria turned to him. “You were great,” she said. “You and Sherlock both.”

  Sherlock grinned and wagged his tail.

  Thanks, Maria, you were great, too. Can we get the hell outta here? I’d like to live long enough to take Claire to the Dog Prom.

  Maria rolled her eyes. She was about to tell him there was no such thing—again—when Gramps shouted, “Watch out!” and threw Maria out of the way.

  Maria hit the cobblestones hard, but was able to turn around to see what had tried to attack her.

  An Orc with a long, hooked sword was swinging down again. Just as its blade nearly connected with Maria, Gramps’s wand exploded in a flurry of blue. The Orc flew backward across the street, looking as if it had been sucker-punched, and hit a burning buggy full of bales of hay.

  “Close one,” Frieda said, dropping to Maria. “Are you all right?”

  Maria nodded as Frieda helped her up. “Thank you, Gramps,” she said. “Thank you, too, Frieda.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Gramps said. “Come on, we are reunited and now is the time to go.”

  Maria’s stomach tightened. “ ‘Go’?”

  “Maria…this battle is lost. We have gotten what we came for. Let’s see the Gnome to safety, and be on our way.”

  Maria shook her head. “No, I can’t. I can’t leave this town to die.”

  Gramps smiled.

  Was he just testing me? I’d recognize that sly smile anywhere.

  But she didn’t know for sure, so she went on. “I would rather die trying to do the right thing than live safely as a coward.”

  Gramps nodded.

  “I should expect nothing less from a young woman raised by Ignatius Mangood,” Frieda said. “I’m all for it. We came here to slay a dragon, didn’t we?”