“Just secret badasses,” Claire said with a wink. “Besides, killing an Orc with a ton of bricks is a lot easier and less scary than plowing into a giant spider-dude with my rust-bucket of a Kia. I don’t think I’ll ever face anything as scary as that.”
Just then, the Dragon roared, and the air grew hotter still as flames lit up the dark night.
“Well, except maybe that. Wow,” Claire said. “Please tell me that thing is on our side.”
Maria frowned. “I wish I could. I would’ve beaten it by now, if that Orc hadn’t gotten to me.”
“Yeah, I’m surprised about that.” Claire arched an eyebrow. “The great Maria Apple bested by a lowly Orc—”
“A freaking huge Orc,” Tabby amended.
“Still, Maria, you all right?” Claire continued. “Never thought I’d see the day you almost lose, and now you have to go after a dragon…as big as that? Good luck.”
“ ‘Almost’ being the operative word here. I would’ve killed him…eventually. I’m just a little weak. It’s been a rough couple of days.” Maria looked up into the sky. The dragon was not airborne, but she could hear its great tail thrashing along the beach as the fighting continued between the Orcs, Dragon Tongue, and her family.
I hope they’re okay. Please let that little Gnome have kicked all of their asses.
Tabby elbowed Claire hard enough for her to rub the stricken spot. “She’s just kidding, of course.”
“Oh, come on! Maria knows this is how I cope with batshit-crazy things.”
“Speaking of batshit-crazy things, I do have to go slay this fucking dragon,” Maria said. “So if you’ll excuse me.”
Claire put her fist out, and Maria grabbed it, then they butted heads.
“Is that your new thing?” Tabby asked. “Not cool. Why do you always leave me out of these secret handshakes?”
Maria took Tabby’s fist and butted her head, much to Tabby’s pleasure.
“I’ll see you on the other side.”
Maria turned once again to the road that led to the water tower and went left. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw half a dozen Orcs emerge from the wreckage of a nearby building. Their clothes were damp with fresh blood. One held the head of a Dragon Tongue, its forked tongue lolling. Maria stopped. She would have to deal with these Orcs, too, before she got rid of the Dragon.
“No!” Claire shouted from the mouth of the alleyway. Her and Tabby each had an armload of bricks. “Keep going! We’ll hold these bastards off!”
The Orcs took off up the street. Tabby launched a brick and caught the leader square in the face. The Orc tumbled to the road, tripping two other Orcs and sending them into the nearby flames of a burning wagon. They both caught fire and ran around like chickens with their heads cut off. Claire fired her own bricks, connecting with another Orc’s groin. He fell to his knees, howling in pain. Another broke from the pack, zigzagging toward the two girls as they threw the rest of their bricks. They missed each time. Down to their last bout of ammunition, Tabby chucked hers with what seemed like all the strength she could muster.
One finally caught the Orc in the bridge of its crooked nose with a crack that Maria could hear halfway down the street. It fell face-first on the road, skidding to a halt right near the mouth of the alleyway. Tabby picked up the Orc’s crudely forged rapier and yelled at the top of her lungs. The remaining Orcs stopped in their tracks, fear erupting across their features as Tabby took off after them, the skinny sword held high above her head.
Maria stared in disbelief. About time those two leveled up. I’m proud. I’ve taught them well. She couldn’t help but smile.
Before Claire took after Tabby, she retrieved the dead Orc’s large sword from the alley, then came back out and waved at Maria.
“Go! Go!” she yelled. “You can do it. You possess more power than you think. Your sword—”
But Claire was cut off by more Orcs jumping out from the shadows. She clumsily blocked the hit and kicked out, connecting with the Orc’s midsection. She slashed him sloppily across both arms, drawing a deep black cut, and was forced to run as more closed around her.
It took everything Maria had not to run after her. But she couldn’t.
All right, Maria, they can handle it. They’re stronger now, and time is running out.
The prospect of death was still fresh on her mind; her own death, the death of her friends and family. She did not intend to die today, but if it happened, so be it. At least she would die doing the right thing, as she had told Gramps earlier.
He and the rest of her family were out there fighting to their own possible deaths for this little lakeside town, but, most importantly, for Maria’s ideals—the ones bestowed upon her by Ignatius Mangood himself. She owed it to them as much as she owed it to Penelope and the townspeople of Ashbourne, to go through with her plans. To defeat the dragon. To save them.
So Maria tightened her grip on the sword that may or may not have been from a legendary dragon slayer and put her head down as she ran toward the tower.
And, perhaps, to certain death beyond.
Chapter Eleven
Back on Earth, Joe Gilepo called Maria for the seventh time, again getting no answer. He sat in his car, still in his Rolling Hill Mall security outfit. It was natural for him to worry. Growing up with a couple of neurotic parents didn’t help much. He hadn’t even been allowed to play football when he was younger.
‘You’ll get too many concussions,’ he could remember his mother saying.
Then Dad chimed in. ‘Do you want permanent brain damage, son? You need to keep all the brain cells you have, buddy.’
When he had graduated high school and announced plans to join the police academy over the summer and hopefully start working in law enforcement by early the following year, Joe’s mom had a conniption fit.
‘There’s all sorts of undesirables out there, Joey! Do you want to get shot?’
Dad piggybacked: ‘Not to mention all those people out there who hate cops and wanna see ‘em dead just for the hell of it. No can do, Joe. You need to keep all the vital organs you have, buddy.’
So Joe compromised—a word he hated, especially when he got the shit-end of the stick—and applied to a third-party security guard company as an unarmed guard. He wound up at Rolling Hill Mall. It wasn’t a terrible job by any means—he had at least met Maria Apple out of the deal.
And kissed her…
But Joe always found himself wanting more when it came to his career, his life.
He tried calling Maria again.
“We’re sorry. The number you have called cannot be reached. Please hang up—”
Joe hung up. This is weird. What is Maria always up to? He wasn’t jealous, or anything like that. Of course, it hadn’t been that serious between the two of them…yet…but he was honestly curious. And what had been that business about the sword and hanging out at Salem’s Ice Cream with a bunch of old people?
It all seemed so…odd.
“Gotta get to the bottom of this,” Joe mumbled as he turned the key in the ignition. “Not because I’m a stalker or anything, but because I care.”
Yeah, that’s what all the stalkers say.
“I’ve always wanted to be a detective, right? Might as well try out my skills now.”
He shifted into drive and pulled through the parking space, heading toward Maria’s house.
But first, I’ll stop and get her flowers. That won’t be as weird. Worked before, didn’t it?
Back in Ashbourne, a storm had broken out. Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed. The dying flames on the lake lurched and swayed with the strong winds rocking its surface.
Maria reached the water tower, still thinking about Claire, Tabby, Gramps, Sherlock, and the newer members of her family.
As she scaled the rickety wood, now slick with rainwater, more Orcs and Dragon Tongue rushed up behind her. They were fighting, swords clashing against swords, magic burning bright.
Maria risked a glance back
and saw the Orcs prevailing. They were not as big as the one she’d met recently, but they were much bigger in comparison to the Dragon Tongue. Pure, brute force conquered the magic. Maria cringed as she saw innards spill out from sliced bellies, heads lopped off and landing in the mud with a sickening squelch. One Orc had been lit aflame, but he kept coming toward the fleeing Dragon Tongue, swinging his great sword like the blades of a malfunctioning helicopter. The steel broke bones and chopped limbs.
“Get the witch!” the Orc shouted. Maria looked back again and saw this Orc with his sword held high. He stood on a pile of robed bodies.
“Well, fuck,” Maria said under her breath. She planted her feet on the rickety wood. The grip on her shoes slid, and she shouted as she almost plummeted to the gathering Orcs below.
Two took off after her, climbing the structure with cat-like grace. Maria looked down. They both held gleaming daggers in their mouths, while the large hooked swords hung from their belts.
Maria drew on a bit of magical energy and willed it downward. An electric blue cloud walloped the Orc on the left in the face. He cried out, losing the dagger from between his clenched teeth, and then losing his grip.
It was all the magic Maria could spare. The top of the water tower was in sight. Despite the rain, once she got a footing up there, she would be able to better defend herself. She just had to keep going.
Her hands closed around the edge of the tower's top, and she pulled herself upward, now running on the reserve bit of energy she had left. There was no time to rest, because the Orc, possibly spurred on by the removal of his partner, had sped up. He was right behind her.
Maria scrabbled up the slightly raised top of the water tower and drew her sword. The Orc didn’t pull himself up slowly; no, he jumped, pulling himself into the air by the edge, defying all the basic laws of physics.
He landed with a crash. The wood split and cracked beneath his massive boots. The rain washed over Maria’s features, dampening her vision—but it was not hard to see the malice and evil present on the Orc’s face.
“Witch,” he grumbled, pulling his sword free.
“Orc,” Maria replied, her voice slightly humorous. “Listen, buddy, I’ve slain a few Orcs in my time. I really don’t want to waste any more precious seconds slaying you. So let’s make this quick.” She turned her back toward the Orc, focusing her senses on the situation—the wood straining as he lurched forward, the rain pattering all around them, his raised breathing, the smell of adrenaline and fear.
Maria whirled around just as he’d almost reached her and feigned a hit. It caught the Orc by surprise. He didn’t raise his sword to deflect it—didn’t need to—but he did stumble backward, his feet slipping on the surface of the sloped tower. He dropped his sword, pinwheeling his arms for balance. Maria reached out to try to grab him. As much as the beast wanted to kill her, she really did not want more blood weighing on her conscious.
It all happened so fast. Maria couldn’t help the Orc without risking falling herself. She watched as the Orc was there…and then he wasn’t.
The sickening crunch of his bones as he fell the three stories from the water tower filled her ears. The other Orcs cried out in disgust, in disbelief, Maria wasn’t sure, but she was sure of what they said next.
“Chop it down, boys! Make her come to us!”
Well, fuck.
Maria looked out toward the beach. The dragon had landed once more, and Hunter was in front of it, reading from his book, chanting words that carried over the storm. The ring of fire still protected him, the rain not affecting it.
Hunter’s eyes settled on Maria standing atop of the water tower. His voice boomed. “Hued fielder ujik!” he shouted and pointed.
The dragon’s massive head followed Hunter’s finger. Those blazing red eyes settled onto Maria. Her heart plummeted off of the water tower, leaving her body up there , empty.
But her bravery hadn’t wavered. She couldn’t let it. Looking out over the town, seeing all of the destruction and injured bodies lining the streets—undoubtedly townspeople and enemy alike—wouldn’t let her. Maria had to be brave for them, for the ones still standing and fighting, for her family, and for the villagers trapped in the world in between.
She raised her sword and shouted, “Yeah, lizard breath, come and get me!”
The dragon roared.
“Reis! Reis!” Hunter shouted. The dragon bent down and bit onto the back of Hunter’s cloak, bringing him upward. With a jerk of its head, Hunter flipped over and landed on the dragon’s neck. “Onreda! Onreda!”
The dragon flew straight up, the great blast of wind from its wings causing the rain to come at Maria like daggers. Maria was forced to stab her sword into the wood to prevent herself from being blown backward.
The dragon roared. Smoke and low flame flared from its nostrils. The sword-like teeth protruded from its great maw. It took everything Maria had inside of her to not cower.
She couldn’t. The stakes were too high.
Now the dragon was eye-level with her, carrying Hunter on its back, his own sword held high.
“I’m afraid your luck has run out, Maria!” he shouted. His voice took on an echo that carried across worlds. He was mad with the dragon’s power.
But Maria had the sword, the sword of Anwyn.
Suddenly, the blade thrummed with power. It caught Maria by surprise. What the fuck? Then, as if Anwyn’s sword had been possessed by his spirit—the blade spoke to her.
Attack, Maria, you must attack. The Dragon Tongue controls Odarth with false strings. Only you have the power to truly control it, to cut them.
“Sherlock?” Maria whispered. But no, that wasn’t Sherlock. Not his voice. Who?
I am Anwyn, Maria, a long distant relative. Now, attack! Attack for the sake of your family.
A lightning bolt came down from the heavens and met the tip of Hunter’s dark sword. It momentarily illuminated as bright as any sun. Hunter’s head tilted back, and insanity took his features.
This was Maria’s chance. If she didn’t take it now, she would die by fire or by fall, and dying was not in the cards today. Letting out a great battle cry, Maria took off across the slanted surface of the water tower. Before the wood ran out, she planted her feet and launched herself into the air. For a split second, it felt like Maria was floating. Then she hit the hard scales of Odarth with a jolt, almost falling from the great beast.
“No!” Hunter shouted.
Maria gripped one of the dragon’s great spikes to steady herself. “Yes!” Maria yelled back.
Inside of her head, that ancient voice from her sword was saying, Fight, Maria!
She swept her blade at Hunter, catching him off-guard, but not off-guard enough. The steel sparked and rang out as the swords kissed. He blocked her blow, but lost his footing. Maria saw this as plainly as she saw the dragon’s glittering scales beneath her feet. Her window of opportunity had just gotten wider, and she took it.
One hit. Two hits. Three hits.
Somehow each one was blocked, and Hunter’s eyes grew redder with fire.
Then, a flurry of hits came back in her direction. She parried each one, trying to channel some form of magic, but was too distracted to do so.
Fight, Maria! The ghost of Anwyn shouted in her mind. Fight! Don’t give up. Don’t you ever give up!
“I won’t!” Maria shouted.
As Hunter came at her with the deathblow, Maria slid down the dragon’s back. The wet scales allowed for easy enough movement, though she had picked up too much speed and was barely able to hold on.
Hunter's sword hit the dragon's back so hard that his sword shattered. The spray of steel caused him to shield his eyes with his forearms. He screamed as large daggers struck his hands, neck, and lastly, his face. The blood that ran down his cheeks was in thin tracks, like tears of death.
Another chance had presented itself, and though Maria hadn’t exactly taken full advantage of that chance, she would not let this one pass her by.
Focus came over her as fast as she could let it. From the power within the storm came a great bolt of magic, like lightning throughout her body. She accepted it, letting it flow through her. The night brightened up as she glowed electric blue. In the satchel, which had somehow survived all of this, the music box buzzed in response. It was a good feeling.
Words Maria didn’t know burst forth from her lips. It was a spell; one bestowed upon her through the years under Ignatius Mangood’s care, one as rooted in her subconscious as her magical abilities, and the spell came as natural as her heartbeat inside of her chest.
When the spell stopped rolling from her tongue, the great energy cloud swelled around Hunter, dampening the fire in his gaze. Then, as if an invisible hand had reached out and pushed him, the false Dragon Lord fell backward, as still as stone. It was not a great fall; certainly not one that would have killed him. He hit the beach, the sand cushioning his landing. Once the Dragon Tongue left the Rogue Dragon’s back, it was as if whatever spell was keeping the beast under his control had vanished.
The dragon reared its head back and roared. Fire spewed from its mouth, burning the pouring rain into steam. Then it arched its back and shook. Maria tried to hold on. It roared again, this time so loud that Maria’s ribs rattled, and her ears felt as if they were going to burst.
Maria’s hold on her sword slipped. The force of the dragon’s bucking caused her to lose her balance. Reflexively, she reached out for one of the dragon’s spikes to stop herself from falling. She gripped it. It burned so hot that her skin sizzled.
The dragon continued roaring. Sand flew up in great waves as its thick legs smashed into the beach. Maria was thrown to the left, her body dangling over the twenty or so foot drop. She looked down. It seemed so much higher than that. She saw Hunter lying nearby; he was not dead, not even the slightest bit. Hurt, maybe, but still going. He sat up. The fiery eyes searched out toward Maria and he raised his hands, palms out. Lips moved in soundless speech.
Another spell. Shit. As if hanging from the back of a dragon wasn’t bad enough.
Midwest Magic Chronicles Boxed Set Page 55