Forging Truth (The Truth Saga)

by Raymond Masters

  “And here we are with all our powers, yet we’re still accomplishing nothing. Nothing! And your little friend is the worst. He’s so worried about regaining his precious little memories. Are you kidding me? He controls real power, but he doesn’t even use it to end this war! Selfish!” She spat the final word and fell silent, seething.

  Caduceus bowed his head, allowing her to finish her rant. When she quieted, he said, “I still can’t believe you fooled me so when we first met. You do realize your English is as good as anyone’s, and better than most?” She stared a hole into him. He sighed. “Especially when you’re angry.

  “As for being selfish – and I don’t wish to draw your ire my own way, but – are you sure the boy is who you should be calling selfish?”

  “What’re you talking about?” Mao jabbed her finger into Caduceus’ chest. “I just said …”

  “Yes, Meow Fang, I heard you.” Caduceus grabbed her finger and gently folded it into her petite but powerful fist. “Consider, though: you speak repeatedly about stopping this war and about Van Parson’s role in it. Yet you and I know it is not the war that plagues your thoughts. Julinn was a good man, and it is right that you should long to make things good by him, but he would not want you to beat yourself up about it. Nor would he be happy at your shifting your anger to innocents.

  “I know you care about the war. I’m sure our special friend does, too. You both are on quests for justice and vengeance that are equally important. We will do all we can to prepare for the takedown of Van Parson and his cronies. I have a feeling when the time is right and the stars align – if it is destined – then, we shall all meet on the same path once again.”

  “Do you really think so? Do you believe we’ll see him again? Especially if he regains his memories of who he was?” Mao frowned, unconvinced.

  “I do. That is the reason I have remained anchored at this address. By all means, I should have packed my doorway and moved far, far away, but I remain hopeful yet.”

  “Thank God, because I have been having some strange feelings about him lately. And last night I had a very … intense dream about him.”

  “Indeed? Maybe you ought to keep it to yourself.” Caduceus offered her a friendly wink.

  “I think I will spare you the details, but I wanted to bring it up this morning just to say … it felt so real. It felt like he was really there. With me. Like we were really …” She inhaled sharply, flushing. “I-I’m sorry, C. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to even say that much. I just can’t convey to you how there he was. Technically, it was more like I was there with him. Like I was at Aesculapus’ creepy asylum.” She looked at him across her mostly untouched dinner, searching for answers.

  Finally, he said, “It has been known to happen. It actually happens more often than most would believe. The old saying goes “it is a small world.’ If that’s true here, it’s even more so, for the realm of the dreaming. The dream world is basically a continuation of this one. Or this world on a higher level. As often as you might run into an old friend at the grocery store, you can run into someone else’s dreams. This is especially true when those people have been focusing their waking attentions heavily upon each other. I am not surprised in the least. Do you think the boy knew it was you? I mean, really you – not just a dream you?”

  “I’m not sure. But there’re a couple more things I got from the dream … something, not part of the dream, but part of it just the same.” She had his attention. Caduceus leaned over the table and looked into her face. He was literally sitting on the edge of his chair. “A name. His name, I guess. Kade Truth. It echoed in my mind as I awakened. And Caduceus: he was frightened. Of what, I don’t have a clue, but he was deadly and completely terrified.”

  Caduceus was contemplating what she had said, and he was about to respond, when Mao cut him off. “Hey, I think your neighbors (What are their names again?) are having a party or something.”

  Caduceus was thrown off by the sudden turn in conversation. It was that way so often with her, though: “What party what? You mean the Jacobs?”

  “On the porch. Sounds like their guests are starting to arrive. I think we should crash it. Want to?” She was excited, now, thinking of finally getting out and doing something. “It might not be productive, but at least it would provide a brief escape from everything.”

  Caduceus frowned, not wanting to deflate her overdue happiness. “Meow, I know you’re feeling cooped up. I can’t blame you. I’m sorry, but I’m afraid no one’s crashing anything tonight.”

  Then, from across the living room, irony came calling, as the large front door splintered inward, blowing a rain of splintered wood against his multi-console television array and the farthest wall.

  7

  “Looks like someone begs to differ,” Mao observed, striking a defensive stance. The dust cloud settled to reveal three familiar forms. Mao subconsciously took a step forward, placing herself between their guests and her host.

  “Be easy, girl,” said the slim, weasel-faced man. “We’re not here for you.”

  “Come now, Mr. Bishop. Don’t speak out of turn.” Richard Van Parson came around his lawyer and started toward Mao F’Yang. “Why can’t we be after both of them?”

  “I concede your point, VP.”

  “Why don’t you step away from our friend, Caduceus, here, and we’ll deal with you momentarily? That’s a good girl.” He motioned for her to step aside, but the motion went unheeded. Instead, Mao’s tensed for action. “Very well, then. Mr. Talmage, would you mind?”

  Van Parson’s behemoth henchman started forward, intent on physically removing the meddlesome Mao from his boss’ path. He never got the chance, however. A warm light flashed brightly, momentarily blinding all in the room. When the light dimmed, Mao’s pursuer had vanished.

  The entire room turned toward Caduceus, who currently brandished his staff at Van Parson’s chest. Nodding his approval, Van Parson said, “Very clever, healer. My men told me of that particular trick. You do realize the problem with tricks, don’t you? Once you know to expect them, they lose their … impact!” Emphasizing his statement, Van Parson drew his silver-and-gold gauntleted hand from his hips and fired a volley of red energy blasts that impacted randomly around Caduceus. The final two connected with his right side, spinning him almost full circle.

  “Careful, careful, friend. Don’t. Drop. Your weapon.”

  “How did you –?” Caduceus stopped himself, shaking his head slightly. “Not important. Minor setback. You’re still going to pay for what you’ve done. To this great land and to this poor child’s father. He was a good man! But you, you are death.” He was geared up to say more, but had to stop short and duck aside as another jet of flame came crashing at him, this time, from his decimated front door.

  “Hey, Mr. Caduceus! Don’t forget to add what we did to your neighbors to your little scorecard. Ought to make us pay for that while you’re at it.” Caduceus erected himself in time to see Talmage – his hands still smoking – making his way back through the door. He had precious little time to dwell on his foe’s return – much less the source of his enemies’ new magics – as Talmage’s words hit home like an invisible boot to the gut.

  “What the hell did you do to the Jacobs,” he growled.

  “Dead, I’m afraid. Not just the Jacobs, either. I’m afraid the Lendseys have passed, too. A shame. At least those sweet kids won’t have to try to cope with their loss.”

  “Not much of a last meal. Meatloaf was a little dry,” Talmage added, rubbing his muscular belly.

  “Caduceus, no,” Mao shrieked. Her words were never heard, though. Caduceus was already in motion.

  8

  Van Parson had said a trick, once used, loses its viability. So the teleporting of Caduceus’ foes was obsolete now. Luckily for Caduceus, he still had other uses for his teleportation. This was quite unfortunate for Talmage, who was caught unawares by the volley of previously inanimate household objects. In rapid succession, Talmage found
himself under attack by several knickknacks from the shelves along the parameter of the living room. But that was just the beginning. While he was distracted, Caduceus slammed him hard with not only the two lamps from either side of the couch, but also their tables. “Shame,” Caduceus reflected, seeing them splinter.

  In his periphery, he picked up movement to the right of him and spun to see Bishop gathering a storm of electricity into a roughly softball-sized sphere of energy. Instinctively, Caduceus ported out of the way as the lightning ball was flung into the television array in the center shelves. He could say goodbye to his shows. Another of those brilliant flashes went off as Caduceus appeared at Bishop’s shoulder. “Ya missed, lackey,” Caduceus rebuffed, catching the lawyer in the face with a pointblank blast of his own.

  Caduceus’ was undoubtedly on a roll. Much of his winning streak he owed to the blind rage and adrenaline that coursed through his system. These intruders were the very men he and Meow had strived so hard to bring down; and here they stood in his very doorway, hunting him? And the Jacobs. The Lendseys. Lives of those, whom he considered a weird and distant sort of family, had been casually snuffed out to get to him.

  He might have been holding his own – more than that, he was taking it to them – but he was just one man, facing three. Sooner or later, his luck would run out.

  9

  Caduceus raised his staff high overhead to perform a final strike on Donald Bishop. Talmage chose that moment, however, to find his feet and perform his best imitation of a rhinoceros. Lowering his shoulder, he charged right into the kidneys of his quarry. Caduceus was flattened, fumbling his staff along the way. Blood trickled away from his face and into the grooves of the uneven flooring.

  Caduceus’ movements had been almost too quick for Mao to keep up with. She was fascinated by what she could make out. Until Talmage had taken her friend down, she had been content to sit back and take it all in. Now, however, she was reminded of her father and the life these men had stolen from him. And from her. She had seen the firepower they were packing. What could she possibly do? The only trick she had in her repertoire was invisibility. And let’s face it; she had gotten lucky playing defense against Van Parson’s goons when she had escaped before. What reason did she have for thinking playing the offense would yield more favorable results? None at all. Then, again, reason had nothing to do with it. They had killed her father, and now they were about to do the same to the man she was already using to fill that void. She wouldn’t allow it. With Bishop sidelined and Talmage and Van Parson’s focus trained on Caduceus, Mao knew it was now or never. Before she could second-guess herself, she blinked out of sight and dove into the fray.

  The bad news was they had already floored her larger and more experienced companion. Caduceus had managed to do quite a number on the larger thug, though; and that last blast had pretty much taken the lawyer out of commission. She weighed her options: could she take a page out of Caduceus’ playbook and begin pelting them with household items? As long as she kept moving, and kept her movement erratic, they wouldn’t be able to nail her. No, they could hit her with a wide blast or something and it would be all she wrote. Okay. Better to utilize her ability’s stealth. She scanned the room before finding what she wanted.

  “That’s enough, that’s enough,” Van Parson was saying. “We don’t want to kill him. Yet.” Talmage agreed and sent a final blow to Caduceus’ battered kidneys.

  Mao ignored it. She had to stay quiet and calm, if her plan were to succeed. If someone heard her, or noticed she was gone, it would be over before it had begun.

  Caduceus’ once-prized television consoles were before her. Their fried carcasses lay in ruins; their gray shattered faces stared at her dispassionately. They had served Caduceus well over the years, bringing entertainment to save him from his self-imposed exile, as well as news from around the globe. They were about to serve him one final time. Mao flattened her small frame and slid back behind the shelving. Quickly, she checked the positioning of the CEO and his remaining stooge. When she was satisfied, she braced her back against the corner and used her legs to push the shelving and its numerous consoles onto her targets.

  At least, that was how it was supposed to happen. Unfortunately, though, just as she heaved the large entertainment center over, a new voice filled the room. “Watch it!” This was in concert with a rusty flash of energy that splintered the offending furniture before it could do any harm.

  Van Parson cocked his arm up, shielding his face. He glared up at the newcomer. “I thought maybe you were afraid of getting your own hands dirty, old man? It’s about time you joined in.”

  The fourth figure made his way into the room and looked directly at Mao. And she recognized him, though from where, she had no idea. Addressing her, he said, “I know of your gift, little one, and I know you are there.”

  “Could it have anything to do with the fact I just pushed this heavy-ass shelf over from here,” Mao quipped, her voice shaking. She didn’t like that he could see her. In fact, it terrified her.

  “She offers a good point, gramps,” Caduceus rasped.

  “Oh, for the love of – I thought you were stilled,” Van Parson moaned.

  “Not by the likes of you rookies.” Caduceus forced a grin from his vantage point on the floor.

  The old man kept his back to the group, not intending to let Mao out of his sights now that he had locked onto her. “You might as well reveal yourself,” he hissed. “It’s over.” He waited for her to comply. When it became obvious she wasn’t about to, he continued, “Very well.” He raised the dark cane, pointing the carved handle in her direction. “Abraca-whatever.” His efforts were rewarded as a stricken Mao materialized before them.

  “What now? Going to kill me?” She had been caught, but her spirit was still free.

  “Yess, we absolutely are. Iss that alright by you?”

  Of course, a free spirit and a quarter won’t even buy you a cup of coffee.

  10

  Mao took on the stance she used when she and Caduceus sparred. Whatever was coming, she would face it as she had faced life: fighting.

  The ‘whatever was coming’ turned out to be a rescue by the most unlikely of shining knights. From behind the dark magician, Richard Van Parson hurled a brief but poignant gauntlet blast, striking her predator square in the back.

  Furious, he whirled around to face the businessman. “What cowardly double-cross is this?”

  “Shut it. It’s not a mutiny. Just open those cursed eyes of yours for a second. She’s just a girl with an annoying gift. Sure, she’s been a thorn in my side, and she’ll definitely pay for her espionage – maybe the same fate as your father, girl – but it’ll have to wait.

  “Our immediate concern is Mr. Caduceus, here. We’ve got to get him subdued, so we can find exactly what he knows about the workings of this realm.”

  “And the stream, boss,” Talmage offered.

  “Indeed. So, stop flirting and give us a hand.”

  “Very well, but next time, I would think twice before using force to gain my attention. Then, I would think twice, again, to be safe.”

  The old man stopped midway to the struggling Caduceus, and turned, once again, to Mao F’Yang. “As for you, girlie-girl: no more sneak attacks.” He flipped his wrist, and the floor crested in a wave of hardwood slats, knocking her off her feet.

  Off her feet, and strategically in reach of Caduceus’ staff.

  Mao stretched until her fingertips wrapped around the charmed thing. Having control of the staff could potentially turn the tide in their favor. Of course, it would have to go a little smoother than with the attempted avalanche. This time, everyone was ignoring the little Asian chick with an affinity for falling off the grid. She pulled the staff into her right palm. With her other hand, she scooped up a sizeable chunk of broken collectible. She waited for their focus to be strictly on her host

  (“I said keep his legs still!”)

  before raring back and letting it fly
at the mirror on the opposite wall. This time, her plan came through. The shattering of the glass served as the perfect distraction, causing each of the men – even Old Man White-hair – to turn to see what was happening. Mao pounced on the break in focus. “Caduceus!” Mao flung the staff through the air, spiraling it directly into Caduceus’ receiving hands. Caduceus gave a harsh sigh of relief. His baby was back.

  Realizing they had been played, the others turned to catch Mao as she righted Caduceus. “Get them, you uselesss lumpss.” The old man screeched, lapsing back into his serpentine speech. Van Parson and Talmage flanked their prey, waiting for them to make the first strike.

  This time, however, Caduceus opted for retreat over assault. “The woods, Mao. The woods!”

  Mao nodded, realizing he had pronounced her name correctly for the first time since he had met her, and spun to make a mad dash for the back door. Before she could begin her sprint for the kitchen, Caduceus grabbed her arm and turned her back to him. “There’s no time for that, Meow, I’ll do it.” She realized what he meant and nodded again. “I’m right behind you.”

  The next instant, they both vanished in a spark, leaving three of their four attackers still mobile and very eager to follow. Too bad for the visiting team, Caduceus had held the home field advantage for over eight decades.

  11

  Mao stood silently by the large, regal oak, watching Caduceus with a worried eye as he proceeded to shadowbox the air around him. He followed the punches with a random series of kicks, everything from leg sweeps to a final head-high number that connected with nothing at all. True, their attackers would be tied up for a while, trying to find a way down to the stream from Caduceus’ high porch, but that didn’t buy them an indefinite amount of time. “What are you doing? We’ve got to prepare. They’ll be on us soon – a couple of minutes, tops. Stop messing around, and help me find a place to hide, or ambush from, or something. You know these woods way better than I do.” He had only brought her down to the stream a couple times, and never this far. If he wouldn’t help her find a spot – and if he insisted on going insane right out in the open – battle fatigue – then what was she supposed to do?