Forging Truth (The Truth Saga)

by Raymond Masters

  Caduceus paid her no mind. Instead, he turned back the way they had come and issued a wide sunburst blast that fanned out in a semicircle. “Aye, girl, I do know these woods. I know ‘em intimately, and I know their trickery. Now, lets find a safe place to wait.”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to do this whole time!”

  “Hush girl.”

  They didn’t have to wait long. And it was well worth the wait.

  12

  Talmage and Van Parson were the first to come down the path. They weren’t moving particularly stealthily, but instead gave off the confident air of all men who see themselves righteous in their cause. In their minds, they had already captured their prey; it was only a matter of time before the actuality caught up to what was preordained.

  A couple of beats later came the sorcerer and – this was a surprise – a revived, if a little charred and addled, Don Bishop. Because of his previous altercation, Bishop was the only one of the group that appeared to be taking precautions. He actively scanned the tree line and path for booby traps or an ambush. A ball of lightning remained coiled in his palm, just in case.

  The magician, on the other hand, was serene, choosing to float six inches above the ground, eyes closed in meditation as he traveled. Abruptly, he stopped, throwing open his snake’s eyes. He lit upon the path below. “Halt! Something’s wrong!”

  “You’re paranoid, old man,” Talmage snapped, “We’ve got them running scared.”

  “What,” Bishop asked, brandishing his gloved fist before him. There was no way he was getting caught off guard a second time.

  “What do you sense?” Van Parson studied the old man. He might not care for him much, but there were definite reasons he was a part of their team. His inklings were usually spot on.

  “Everyone gather in close, weapons ready. Something’s –.”

  Suddenly, Caduceus was upon them, appearing from thin air. But it was different than with his teleportation. There was no flash of white, this time. He simply wasn’t there one moment, and then he was. He manifested mid-swing, a fury of fists, connecting squarely with Bishop’s swollen, blackened jaw, sending him down once more.

  “Talmage, get him! Get him,” Van Parson cried, but it was too late. Before the big man could get into motion, Caduceus had already vanished. Furious, he ordered, “Spread out, and find –.” Suddenly, Van Parson was on the ground next to his henchman. It happened so quickly he was unable to sort out exactly what had happened. Then, he saw, and understood.

  Caduceus had done it again, and again, and again. A punch thrown here, a leg sweep there. Van Parson got to his feet, gauntlets raised. Caduceus appeared directly in front of him, pivoting himself with his leg raised for a devastating roundhouse kick. Van Parson was ready. He brought his gauntlets up to shield his face, simultaneously ducking away. The impact spun him around, but the equipment on his arms took the brunt of the blow, saving his face and perfect smile.

  As he righted himself, ready to return the fight to the relentless Caduceus, Van Parson had just enough time to realize what was coming, but not enough to do a thing about it. Caduceus was currently aiming his staff down the path and indirectly at him and his crew. The old man manifested a shield around himself, but that didn’t help lessen the blow for the others, as Caduceus let loose with a fan-blast of searing light. The two standing, unprotected were bowled over, and the incapacitated lawyer went rolling off into the forest like a dead log.

  13

  “Okay, that was way cool. Sorry I thought you’d gone nuts, Ducie,” Mao said, slapping him on the back. They had chosen a spot behind some dense foliage along the bank of the stream. With their pursuers taken out, though, she was ready to kick them while they were down. She began to go that direction, but Caduceus pulled her back.

  “Get back down here, girl, what’re you going to do, pelt the wizard with rocks and sticks? He is still active, you know.”

  “Crapola! I forgot. I’m just tired of doing nothing. So, what do we do about him?”

  “If I planned this out, I think he’s just … about … to get his. Ah, there,” Caduceus said, pointing at the white-haired man in black.

  He had lowered his personal protection barrier and was attempting to rouse Van Parson from the blast’s effects. Just then, Caduceus reappeared, punching and kicking in an exact repeat of the previous pattern. As the old man retaliated against the spectral pre-Caduceus, the now-Caduceus began to suffer corresponding side effects.

  “Your nose,” Mao gasped. Caduceus rubbed his meaty forearm across his ruined nose. Blood smeared and matted in his thick hair. As Mao looked on in horror, a bruise bloomed on his chiseled jaw line. “We’ve got to stop this before they kill you. If they kill that other you, then …”

  “Aye, we must act. I was … I was too confident in my actions, and it tripped me up. C’mon. Stay behind me.” Together, they tore up the bank, rushing the demon-man. Pre-Caduceus had just reached the end of his second cycle, and was readying his staff for the big finish. Now-Caduceus knew if they didn’t do what they needed to right away, they would lose their opportunity. If their opponent got his shield up this time …

  Before he could do that, now-Caduceus aimed and fired a teleportation blast at him, catching him by surprise and vanishing him instantly. Pre-Caduceus drew his staff up, as the loop demanded, and let loose his powerful arch … right into the midsection of the newly reconstituted Dark Monk. The original blast had been meant to fan out, so, by necessity, it had to start off as intense as possible to yield the greatest results over the widest area. This time, however, the fan had nowhere to go. Instead, the concussive force buried itself into the vital organs of the most dangerous of their pursuers, adding him to the pile of unconscious baddies.

  “Is he … is he dead,” Mao wondered.

  “Doubt it. Follow me and stay close.”

  “Where to, now?”

  “Back to the house.”

  Mao was confused. “But shouldn’t we finish them while they’re down?”

  “Sure, we could take their weapons while they’re out. I think that would weaken their defenses enough to put an end to them. But would you chance their waking while we’re still mid-task? Besides, I have to admit, I’m a little more winded than I let on. Whatever wounds they inflicted to the other me are really starting to play havoc. Let me walk and clear my head. It’ll help me recharge my staff, as well. Now, I think it would be best to head back to the house and try to contact our young friend, Kade.”

  “Kade and Aesculapus. We could use all the help we can get.”

  But Caduceus was already down the path, lost in thought.

  14

  Mao couldn’t stop herself from pacing the room. She kept thinking about the four goons that could come attack them at the drop of a hat. “Now what? How do you plan on getting a hold of Kade or your brother? It’s not like you can text him. Do you or Aesculapus even have a landline?”

  “Hmm, I don’t have the luxury of going through my usual channels.” He paused, considering. “I wonder, though. Meow, hand me that stationary and quill set.”

  “Um, this pen?”

  “Aye, the quill.” She handed it to him, and he began to scribble fiercely. After a minute, he looked up and said, “Done. Now, all I have to do is send this little note via the Caduceus Express straight into my brother’s foyer. May God direct it from there.”

  “And may Kade still even be there.” As she spoke, Caduceus doubled over and clutched his side. “Ducie, what?”

  “Side.” He hissed in air. “My side.”

  She squatted to inspect it, “Where?” She gently drew back the arm he held cradled at his side. Jagged bone poked its head from a hole in his shirt. Blood rippled outward, soaking the cotton. “Your ribs are broken.”

  “The loop in the woods. They’ve beaten it.”

  Another bombardment of bruises and contusions cropped up on Caduceus’ already weakened frame. Mao cradled him in her arms, uncertain what she could do to
help this sweet old man. “Ducie? It’s going to be all right. You’ve taken me in and helped me cope with my father’s death. I’m going to find a way to save you, I promise.”

  Caduceus whispered something that didn’t quite reach her ear.

  “I’m sorry, Caduceus. I can’t hear you.”

  With effort, he repeated himself, enunciating each syllable. “Go. Find Kade. I’ll be fine.”

  “You’re being stupid. I’ll stay; I’ll find some way to help.”

  Caduceus shook his head. “No.”

  “Your staff! I’ll use your staff. They’ll never know what hit them.”

  “No,” he said, again. But she was already leaning over him to take it from his cold hands. “Stop. You can’t fight them alone. Find help.”

  Now it was her turn to protest. “Not without you.” She tried once more to free the staff.

  “I love you, Mao F’Yang. You would have made me … a fine daughter.”

  She reached to wipe a tear from his cheek and perhaps give some words of encouragement, but was never allowed to do either. Caduceus closed his eyes and sent her away. Would she find Kade? Would she convince him to avenge not one but two souls now? Did it even matter? He lay back to wait for the inevitable.

  But death would have to wait, for the recall of a task left uncompleted forced his eyes wide. “The note,” he said, using a false burst of adrenaline, “If Meow doesn’t find him …” And so, with the last of his strength, Caduceus Whitmore sent the note onward to his brother’s house.

  15

  “Rise and shine, handsome. C’mon. Wake. Your. Old. Ass. Up.”

  “You’ll have to forgive Mr. Talmage’s bedside manner. I’m afraid he wasn’t loved much as a kid.”

  Caduceus opened his eyes to find he was no longer lying down, but rather he was forced upright in one of his chairs. His hands and feet were bound. He struggled feebly with his restraints.

  “Ah, ah, ah,” Richard Van Parson said, looming over him. “I’m afraid our friend here had to do a little magic trick to make sure these bonds would keep you docile. You see, if you struggle, the ropes will constrict to the point where your hands and feet will be cut loose from your arms and legs.”

  “Maybe I should do it anyway. Not like I need my hands and feet to kick your sorry arse.”

  Van Parson chuckled, shaking his head, “Healer, you do amuse me. You know, when I first met you after the attack, I’ll admit I didn’t care for you, not one iota. But you, you’ve grown on me. You’re a fun guy to be around. That trick in the woods was muy, muy clever.”

  “I’m glad you liked it. Wait till you see what I do next.”

  “Next? Next, you’re going to tell us where the girl is. My comrade says she’s not invisible. He’s checked. So?”

  “She’s gone. Away from you monsters.”

  “Aw, did you sacrifice yourself for her benefit?” He leaned in, shielding his mouth from the others. “Giving it up, is she? You old dog.”

  Caduceus thrashed wildly. His flailing around did little but reveal his captors had been speaking the truth about his restraints. Blood inched down his ankles and wrists. The pain was immense, but at least it cleared his head a little.

  “That couldn’t have been very enjoyable,” Van Parson purred. “Now, be still a while. We’re about to take you away from here. To someplace where you won’t be able to get in the way of our plans, but you’ll still be of easy access when we have questions. Questions about the Seeing Cove you have hidden somewhere in those woods of yours, for example?

  “Before we go, however, my associate, Donald Bishop, would like to have a brief … chat with you. Mr. Bishop?”

  Van Parson moved behind Caduceus, and Bishop stepped in. Caduceus saw he had acquired Caduceus’ staff. He was grimacing in pain. “Think you’re pretty smart, taking me out with those sneak attacks? Well, let’s see how well you do in a fair fight against me.” Not grimacing, Caduceus realized, but smiling through the swollen matted remains of his face.

  “He said, with no hint of irony,” Caduceus quipped. With his staff gone and his hands and feet charmed into submission, his words were all he had.

  Bishop didn’t care what he had to say, though. As far as he was concerned, Caduceus could sing a song and do a shuck and jive if he felt so inclined. It wouldn’t change what was coming. Bishop patted the staff in his open palm like a batter readying for that homerun hit. “Batters up,” he called and swung the staff around with maximum force.

  16

  “Feel better, Donny?”

  “Indeed I do, VP. Can I do it again?”

  “Why don’t we wait till later? I’d like to keep him around a little while longer.” Then, turning to address Caduceus, he said, “Right now, I want to talk to our friend about the scrying pool I mentioned earlier.”

  “Go. To. Hell.”

  “Naughty. Now, tell me. Or else.” Van Parson raised his gauntlets to Caduceus’ crotch and pressed in firmly. “And how would you like your balls prepared today?”

  In a flash, the old man was at his side, pushing Van Parson off balance. “I hate to throw your own words back at you, sir, but we really should get Caduceus back to my place before he gets any bright ideas. He is our immediate concern, not the pool of time. But do not fret, for we shall get our answers to that mystery shortly.” He turned to Van Parson’s stooges. “Boys, secure him and make him ready for transport.”

  Talmage snorted and bellied up to the old man, glaring daggers at him. Growling low in his throat, he said, “Now, you listen to me, as I won’t be repeating myself. I don’t get my paycheck from you. So, you don’t get to boss me around.”

  “That’s true, you don’t get it from me. I am, however, the one who decides if you live to cash it.” They stayed like that, eyes locked, for a second longer. In the end, the old man’s viper slits won out, and Talmage sulked away to do as he was bid.

  The humiliation of his man did not set well with Van Parson, however, and he chose that moment to file his grievance. “That’s it, you’re retired from this team. I’ve always thought I needed you more than you needed me. No longer. I’ll get the answers myself. If my men and I cannot get the respect from you we are due, then I will kill you myself.” He brought his Bloodstone gauntlets up, encouraging his adversary’s agreement. “Do I make myself clear?”

  With an unperceived swiftness, the Dark Monk drove his cane into the soft part on the bottom side of Richard Van Parson’s chin. “You know, mine is loaded and ready to fire, just as yours is. Trust me, son, you really don’t want that, not at all. I’ve been slinging magic since your great granddaddy was hanging from his mammy’s tit – as I think you well know. Besides, you wouldn’t risk it. The meal might be exquissite, but the aftertasste is horrid and lassts … forever.”

  “Boss?” Talmage and Bishop raised their own weapons in response.

  Van Parson lowered his gauntlets and motioned for his men to do the same. “It’s just old man’s drivel. Don’t bother with him; we might need him later with this one, anyway. Now, get Caduceus to the car, and let’s get the hell out of here.”

  The old man held up his hand in a halting gesture, and walked over to their prisoner. He peered into the man’s face, and said, “I have a better idea. Caduceus, I would like for you to do us … a solid … I want you to tell us how to sync this place up, with our destination.”

  Caduceus spat at him, and replied, “Your only destination is the fires of hell.”

  “I promise you, if you do not do exactly as I have asked, every person on this block – every man, woman, and especially every child – will share the same fate as the Jacobs and the Lendseys. So, now, whadda ya say, hmm?” The old man grabbed Caduceus by the neck as he slumped, broken, into his restraints. There is that same popping sound Caduceus has heard once before – at the dugout on Liberty Island. Just before Ambassador Andres – No, it was Richard Van Parson, not Andres – murdered that smart-mouthed kid. “C’mon, Caduceus, if you won’t do it for him, th
en do it for your dear ol’ brother.” Aesculapus pulled him closer to his cracked and spotted face. He gave Caduceus a conspiratorial wink and smiled. “After all, isn’t that what family is for?”

  REUNIONS

  1

  Despite everything I’ve been through (Caduceus and Aesculapus, resurrection and new abilities), I’m still more than a little uneasy about going home. Home. I hadn’t thought of Ransom in a long, long time. True, I hadn’t even had a memory of home for several weeks. More than that, I had tried to block out all thoughts of home my entire adult life.

  When dad died, mom was overwhelmed at the prospect of raising a teenaged son on her own. So what’s better than being raised by your widowed mother? Being raised by sisters. The Sisters, actually. How funny was it my mom, a lifelong Baptist, sent her son to a Catholic boy’s school? Was I conflicted? You bet.

  While I was there, I felt like I was in hell. I still hated it after graduation. But the past year or so, I guess I’ve started to soften some. Granted, it was years of my youth – years I could have been partying, drugging it up, sexing it up – spent with my nose buried in my Bible, on a strict schedule and even tighter curfew. Kept me clean and out of trouble while others my age were not so much.

  Speaking of others my age, it was there I got to meet two of my best friends, forming a bond that would transcend the years and reunions. And then there was Jessie. The bond I formed with Mao in such a short amount of time couldn’t be ignored, but the relationship I had enjoyed with Jess … She was going to be my wife. As in forever. I missed her so much. If not for my desire to close the gulf separating my mom and me, I would absolutely be on Jessie’s doorstep instead of my mom’s worn-out welcome mat. So, you could certainly see why I was completely taken aback, when my nervous knock was answered by none other than the beautiful blonde in question.